"I don't like your implication," Eastman bristled.
Mays held up a hand. "Let me respond to that, Boris," he said. Then he turned back to Phule. "Captain, I'm sure that my police could find the sniper quickly enough, if they questioned some of your new associates. Oh, that reminds me of a quesion I had--when can we expect you to turn over the rebel leaders to stand trial for their crimes?"
"I'm not convinced they've committed any crimes, Colonel," said Phule. "You've made plenty of accusations, but nobody's shown me hard evidence of criminal acts. Lacking that, I must consider any attempt to arrest them a treaty violation by the government."
Colonel Mays rose to his feet. "Boris, I can see we're wasting our time here. The captain will whistle a different tune when his commanding general hears about his obstructionism. Until then, we have business to attend to."
"Good day, Colonel," said Phule. "Be sure to come back when the park opens, gentlemen. I'll have Taep set aside free tickets for you both."
"The rebel park will never open," said Eastman. "Good day, Captain." And he and Colonel Mays stalked out of the office.
"Thrill rides," said Armstrong. He shook his head. "They upset my stomach. Why would somebody travel halfway across the galaxy to get on something that upsets his stomach?"
"Don't ask me," said Rembrandt, leaning back in her chair. They were in the hotel's conference room, waiting for Phule to come brief them on the company's new project. "I can take 'em or leave 'em. I mean, they're fun once in a while, but you'd never get me to stand in line for half an hour to get on that UltraDragon, over at the beach."
"Half an hour? The lines were seventy minutes long yesterday afternoon!" Armstrong said, his face a study in perplexity. "For a ride that lasts ten minutes! And this is a run-of-the-mill amusement park on a backwater planet."
"Don't let any Landoorans hear you say that," said Brandy. "They kind of like this place, and they're serious about those rides. Besides, it is a burnin' hot ride--I'd say it's worth the wait, yeah. Even Tusk-anini seemed to like it, once Gnat persuaded him to try it. And Do-Wop and Mahatma got back in line to ride it again."
"Mahatma? I wouldn't expect anything else of Do-Wop, but Mahatma..." Armstrong paused and scratched his head. "Maybe I don't understand Mahatma," he said at last.
"Man, if you did, you could give courses in it to the rest of us," said Brandy, chuckling. "But these Landoorans really have a thing for thrill rides. The capital isn't all that big a city, but it's got five different parks with a couple of pretty good rides apiece, or so the tourist guidebook says. So I'd bet the big park the government is building will have half a dozen really good rides. The rebel's park has to match that--or top it, if they can. So maybe you better take your motion-sickness pills and climb on a couple of roller coasters. It looks like we're gonna be in the business."
"Oh, we're already in the business," said Armstrong resignedly. "The captain's made up his mind, and that's all I needed to know. But I'll gladly let Do-Wop and Mahatma do the ride-testing. There has to be some advantage to being an officer in this outfit!"
"Advantage to being an officer? That's the best joke I've heard all year," said Phule, sweeping into the room. He had a roll of blueprints under his arm, which he dumped on the conference table. Behind him was a tall man in a metallic silver jumpsuit, silver-tinted goggles, and silver hair. Seeing his officers' curiosity, Phule said, "I should introduce our new consultant: Maestro Mario Zipiti, the galaxy's leading expert on thrill rides."
"Eet ees ze plaisir to make ze acquaintance," said the Maestro, with a florid bow. "Togezzer, ve make ze most grand ride yet to be see in ze galaxy!" He pronounced the last word with the stress on the middle syllable.
"Maestro Zipiti has brought designs for all the great rides from around the galaxy for us to study," said Phule. "He's also got several original designs that he assures me go beyond anything ever built. With his help, we can expect NewAtlantisPark to open its doors with the most exciting attractions on the planet..."
"Not only on ze planet, but anyvere in ze galaxy!" said the Maestro, with another sweeping gesture that forced Armstrong to duck back a pace.
"Exciting is good," said Armstrong. "I suppose we're going to make sure they're safe, as well?"
"Safe? Pah!" Maestro Zipiti flung up his hands. "Ze true trill riders care nozzing for safe! Ze ride, ze rush, she is everyzing!"
"The rides will be safe, of course," said Phule. "It turns out that one of the rebel leaders is an engineer with substantial experience in building and maintaining rides. He built several popular rides in the existing parks. I looked over his resume, and none of his rides has ever had an injury except for one or two caused by misconduct by customers. I asked him to come to this meeting. I wonder..." There was a knock on the door. "That must be him now. Brandy, will you go let him in?"
Brandy opened the door and in came a wiry man with a grizzled beard and gold hoop earrings. He was still wearing the jungle camouflage and red bandanna that was the unofficial rebel uniform. "Hello, Buster," said Phule. "I'd like you to meet Maestro Zipiti, the famous thrill-ride expert."
"Zipiti, huh?" Buster squinted at the man in the gleaming jumpsuit. "I heard of you--never expected to see you here, though."
Zipiti drew himself up straight and said, "I haff come to build ze greatest rides ever in history!"
"Well, that'll be different, won't it?" said Buster, clearly unimpressed. "Tell you what, Maestro--you give me the drawings and the specs, and unless you're asking for something plasteel won't do, I'll get the durn things built. We got a deal?"
"It sounds like the perfect deal to me," said Phule, cutting off Zipiti, who had his mouth open to answer. "Now, let's see what we've got on the drawing board." Smiling, he unrolled the first of several plans, and the group got down to work.
It was nearly three minutes before the first argument broke out between Zipiti and Buster, and it lasted most of the meeting. But with Phule's prodding, things moved forward. It began to look as if the rides could actually be built. Quite possibly they would even be ready on schedule. That was assuming that it could be done without either Maestro Zipiti or Buster killing the other before the project got off the ground.
The first priority for NewAtlantisPark was to build a roller coaster more impressive than the behemoth in LandoorPark--which Phule's troops took to calling "The Thing." This was a daunting challenge for a group that had never set up so much as a simple "spin-and-puke" ride, let alone an attraction that could impress the citizens of a planet that considered roller coasters its highest art form. But Maestro Zipiti rolled out a design for the coaster of his dreams, which was immediately given the code name "Zipper." This design offered an initial plunge five meters higher than the government ride. It also had an unusual number of rapid side-to-side shifts on its final straightaway, and what Zipiti touted as the tallest loop of any roller coaster in the galaxy. On paper, it dwarfed The Thing, and it was quickly adopted as the centerpiece of the park.
Phule was ready to build not only the Zipper, but several of Maestro Zipiti's other designs. But here he met opposition from his other local consultant, Okidata. "You don't want to do that yet, Captain. The Zipper's gonna be a triff ride, no question. But as soon as the government sees you building this ride, they're gonna try to top it. And you're gonna have to top them in turn, or look like a second-rater. Better keep a few plans held back, 'cause you're gonna need 'em."
Maestro Zipiti nearly exploded. "Zese provincial bunglers cannot match ze least of my designs! Ve vill build zem all!"
"Maybe you should jes' set tight, Maestro," said Buster. "The kid's got the right of it, says I--and I been goin' to ride parks longer than he's been born, so I oughta know."
"We'll wait and see," decided Phule. "With all our workers concentrating on one ride, we should have the Zipper up quickly enough, and then we'll know which direction we need to go in."
"Zis is schtupid!" muttered Zipiti, but he was outvoted. And, as it turned out, he was wrong.
Chapter 16
Journal #426
One who had never embarked on the construction of an amusement park would undoubtedly consider it a simple proposition. One needs to erect a few rides, set up areas where customers may purchase food and souvenirs, and then open the gates and watch the money roll in. Even I, who tend to see shoals of difficulties where others see only smooth sailing, had no idea how complex the undertaking would become. Fortunately, neither did my employer, or he might never have embarked on the project.
As always, he made it a point to obtain expert advice from all over the galaxy. His connections, augmented by those of his family, gave him access to a range of talent few others could call on. It was therefore no surprise to anyone who had seen him in action that within days of signing the agreement with the rebels, several leading lights in the world of entertainment and of amusement park design in particular had joined our camp. Of course, Maestro Zipiti was on hand to supply his expertise in thrill rides. Lex came in from Lorelei to oversee the plans for a series of indoor and outdoor stages for live entertainment.
From within the ranks of Omega Company, Phule detailed Escrima to draw up plans for the food service areas, with an eye to providing gourmet treats in mass quantities. And the rebel camp had its own array of talent--Buster turned out to be a top-class engineer, with an uncanny ability to turn almost any blue-sky idea into functioning hardware. And Okidata had a surprising fund of useful knowledge.
And, of course, the government insisted on sticking its own oar in, whether or not anyone wanted it...
It was somewhere near midafternoon on the second day of construction work on the Zipper that the Landooran government appeared on the scene. A small fleet of black hovercars delivered Boris Eastman, Deputy Minister of Development, to the park entrance. Eastman had a team of inspectors in tow. Phule was there to meet him at the gate.
"What a pleasure to see you, Deputy," said Phule, grinning as if he meant every syllable of it. "We aren't set up to entertain visitors yet, but of course you're always welcome."
"This is no social visit, Captain," said Eastman, turning a stony glare on the beehive of activity going on all around him. "It has come to my attention that you have begun this project without obtaining the necessary permits."
"Oh, quite to the contrary, Deputy," said Phule, holding up a hand. "I made sure we had all the relevant permits before we turned the first shovelful of earth--the military has given me plenty of experience dealing with regulations, and so I make it a point to fulfill all the requirements before I find out I can't do something I want. If you'll step over to my office, I'll be happy to let you inspect them."
"I would be very interested to inspect these permits," said Eastman, his eyes narrowing. "As of this morning, my department had no record of their being issued."
"Undoubtedly the normal bureaucratic backlog," said Phule. He made a gesture as if to usher the deputy toward the temporary building housing his office. "If you'll follow me..."
"Very well," said Eastman, sniffing. "We shall soon see what is in proper order and what is not." He and his flunkies fell in line behind Phule.
Chocolate Harry, who had paused from setting up the ground-clearing machines to watch the conversation between Phule and the ministers, broke into a grin at the sight. "Check it out, man--this is the first time I ever seen the chickens line up to follow the fox into his own hole."
"I wouldn't be so sure," said Buster, scratching his bearded chin. "Them government fellers got the look of career criminals to 'em. If that deputy don't at least triple his salary in bribes, I'd be disappointed in him."
"Don't you be worried," said Chocolate Harry. "By the time the Cap'n's done with these dudes, they'll swear he's got every permit they ever thought of, and a few spare, blank ones. He's even figured out how to bribe somebody so they stay bribed, and I thought that was against the laws of economics."
"Economics, hell--that's against the laws of physics," said Buster, picking up the wrench he'd set down when the inspectors arrived. "But if he's as good as you say, I guess we might as well go right on ahead with the job."
"Might as well," said Harry, and they went back to their task. After a while, Eastman and his inspectors emerged from the office building. They marched straight back to their hovercars and departed for the city. If there had been any deficiency in the permits, it certainly was not serious enough to cause any delay in the project--at least for the moment.
"Zere design--eet ees garbage," said Maestro Zipiti. He put a strong accent on the second syllable of the last word, as if it rhymed with garage. "Here"--he pointed to the diagram showing the first, long climb--"zey make ze quick drop, go to ze left instead of straight, zo as to zeem more the dangerous. But Pah! Eet ees a trick even a child could zee t'rough. Gar-bage!"
"Sure, Maestro," said Buster, very patiently. It was the fourth or fifth time he had heard Maestro Z criticize the shortcomings of the rival park's showpiece roller coaster. "We don't want no garbage in our park. That's why we brought you in to design this here ride for us." He shifted another blueprint to the top of the stack and pointed. "Now, remin' me again, what's the load on these-here cross-braces?"
"Zat ees all written out!" said the Maestro, flinging his long locks of hair back over one shoulder. "'Ave you no read ze plan?"
"Over an' over," said Buster. "By now, I may understand it better than the feller what drew it up. What I want to know..."
"Merde! Un'erstan' eet better zan Maestro Zipiti! Per'aps you 'ave ze eye of ze mechanic, but zat is nozzing, nozzing! Ze soul of a genius..."
Buster's voice didn't change. "Yeah, I know you's a genius 'cause you done told us so. Now, maybe you can tell me what's gonna be holdin' up this here stretch of track when a car full o' people's settin' on top of it. It looks real pretty the way you draw it, but I gotta build the damn thing. Figure we got twenty-four people in a car, average weight of a hundred ten kilos apiece..."
Zipiti was outraged. "Zat is too high! I design eet for ninety-five!"
"An' what happens if you get a fat people's convention?" drawled Buster. "We gonna shut down all the rides? I figure we gotta have at least... What the hell?"
The latter exclamation was prompted by a loud explosion, followed by frantic shouts. A cloud of smoke was rising from near the park gates. "'Scuse me, Maestro," said Buster. "I reckon I gotta go see what's up." He turned and sprinted off toward the growing commotion.
Maestro Zipiti peered off into the distance, his face turning red. "Cretins!" he shouted. "Salauds! You sabotage my beautiful rides, I keel you! I keel you all!" The smoke kept rising, and somewhere in the distance a klaxon began to sound. It was the start of another typical day.
The holovision picture showed men and women in hard hats in the background, running heavy machinery. A framework of girders, bent into intriguing curves and dips, loomed against the skyline. Up front stood Jennie Higgins, interviewing Le Duc Taep.
"New AtlantisPark will be the vindication of our free way of life," Taep was saying. "It will embody the traditional Atlantean values of self-determination, free enterprise, and hard work. And it will be a wonderful vacation experience for the whole family."
"How would you compare it to the new park the government is building, LandoorPark?" said Jennie.
"The government has a false vision of what the people want," said Taep, puffing himself up as if the additional air would add conviction to his words. "They follow the old formula of bread and circuses, empty entertainment. But they care nothing for the soul of the Atlantean people. We will present the heritage of our nation, something to inspire the people and to show the galaxy our rich indigenous culture."
"We understand that your two parks are engaged in quite a competition to build the most exciting thrill ride," said Jennie. "What can you tell us about that?"
"Thrill rides are the finest expression of the art of New Atlantis," said Taep. "Our rides will draw on the knowledge and skills of our native craftsmen as well as t
he vision of experts from all over the galaxy."
Phule's communicator buzzed. He turned down the sound on the holoset and said, "What is it, Mother?"
"Sorry to bother you, sweetie, but that Deputy Eastman and Colonel Mays are here again. Want to see them?"
"I suppose there's no point in postponing it," said Phule, sighing. "Send 'em on in."
Moments later the door to Phule's office opened and the two government officials barged through. "There," said Eastman, pointing to the image of Jennie, still visible in the holo-viewing area. "What do you say about that?"
"I say it's great publicity for the park," said Phule. "It's been running every half hour, in every major market in this sector. If it brings visitors from off-planet, your park will benefit, as well."
"I expected some such impertinence," said Eastman. He pointed his finger at Phule. "What do you have to say about publishing state secrets? That's espionage, no matter how you slice it."
Phule raised his brows. "State secrets? I can't imagine what you mean."
Mays leaned forward over Phule's desk. "Do you deny tipping your journalist friend about LandoorPark?"
"Of course I deny it," said Phule, leaning back in his desk chair. "Jennie is a good reporter--she can find things by herself, and I suspect that's all she did here. I won't deny telling her about NewAtlantisPark. Publicity is a big part of the game plan, Colonel. If Taep's going to repay my loans, his park's got to get off-planet customers. We've got to let the people on other planets know it's here. What better way than talking to a reporter?"
"And in the process, you force our hand," said Mays. "If we copy your tactics, we undergo a radical increase in expenses. If we ignore them, you gain the edge in publicity."
"It doesn't cost anything to talk to Jennie," said Phule. "If you hadn't turned down her interview requests..."
A Phule and his Money Page 24