He put a token in the slot and pulled the lever... .

Lola walked out of the High Rollers' Lounge in the Fat Chance Casino burning with curiosity. Her first encounter with Victor Phule had been, much stranger than shed had expected. About the only thing that fit any predictable pattern was the bodyguard's moving in gently to encourage her to end the conversation with his client Phule must have flashed him some signal she'd missed. But that was all right-she'd actually gotten to talk to him much longer than she'd hoped to. Unfortunately, she hadn't learned very much of use. Victor Phule's explanations of why he was playing the casino's quantum slots didn't make any sense-and that set off all her alarms. She didn't see any reason to point out.

that nobody else but the armaments tycoon was playing the five-thou sand-dollar machines. Without the undisciplined players he depended on to build up the losses, his supposed "system" was nonsense. Besides, everybody but the most unthinking fish knew that the slots gave the worst odds in the whole casino. Obviously, nobody who could build a financial empire like Phule-Proof Industries could be so cavalier about throwing away his money. So there must be something else going on here. What was Victor Phule's real game? Was his conspicuous high rolling nothing more than shilling, meant to encourage others to play recklessly? Was his so-called system just a way to convince players that the slots might not be the bad investment that every sensible gambler claimed they were? Or was something even deeper going on here? Lola did her best to keep her face cheerful, to keep Victor Phule talking. Whatever his game was, she intended to find out-and to be there to scam him out of a share of the proceeds, whenever it did payoff. It wasn't going to be an easy job, Lola told herself. But it had a lot better chance of paying off than Victor Phule's system for playing the slots. And whether or not he realized it, she had a lot more at stake than he did. She smiled again. Always bet on the hungry fighter, said the old gambler's cliche. One thing for sure: she was a lot hungrier than Victor Phule. And she was going to get her bite out of him, one way or another.

Back at Zenobia Base, Willard Phule's wrist intercom buzzed, then Mother's voice came through the speaker.

"Hate to wake you up, cutie pie, but we've detected an incoming ship. You might want to tidy up before they get here."

Phule, who had been wide-awake {it was midaftenoon, after all) and working at his desk, grinned "Thanks, Mother," he said.

"That must be the party of bigwigs we've got to entertain for Ambassador Gottesman. Try to hail them, and patch me in when they answer."

"Will do, sweetums," puited Mother, and she broke the connection.

"Do you plan to meet these, uh, bigwigs in person?" asked Beeker, looking up from the financial program he'd been running.

"Sure, if it really is them," said Phule. "I'm not going to go charging out to meet just anybody again. I learned my lesson with those AEIOU inspectors. I all but rolled out the red carpet for them, and they've been nothing but trouble ever since."

"That's an understatement, sir," said Beeker, sniffing faintly. "I found them an unpleasant company from the beginning. I am more and more convinced that they were dispatched here by one of your enemies and now need to find sufficient violations to justify the expense of shipping them to this planet."

"It does seem like the kind of thing General Blitzkrieg would try," Phule said, musing. "Although it might even be a bit too subtle for him. He's more the kind to try something direct, like sending Major Botchup to replace me in command. That's the old Legion way, which is all Blitzkrieg seems to understand."

"I don't think I'd use the term understand to describe the general's mental processes," said Beeker. "Still, I wouldn't be so quick to overlook the possibility that he might from time to time come into the possession of competent advice and actually follow it. Even as you do on occasion, sir."

Phule stared at Beeker, trying to figure out whether or not the butler expected him to take offense at the comment.

After a long moment, he shrugged, and said, "Well, I can't deny the possibility. But now that they're here, figuring out who sicced them on us is secondary to figuring out how to get them off the company's back. 1 think we're about as environment-friendly..."

"A barbarous locution," muttered Beeker.

Phule hesitated one beat, then continued, "About as environmental-friendly as we can be and still carry out our mission," he said. He was used by now to the butler's correcting his grammar and diction on the fly, although he couldn't always figure out exactly what Beeker was objecting to. Judging from Beeker's sour expression, his attempt to correct himself hadn't made things any better. "Besides, this is the Zenobians' home world," he added. "I'd think as long as they're happy with the company's performance, a bunch of Alliance bureaucrats don't have much to say about it."

"Don't be so sure of that, sir," said Beeker. "Have you looked into the precise terms on which Zenobia joined the Alliance? 1 would be very surprised if the natives of a new world were allowed to come in without major concessions to the powers that be-of which the regulatory bureaucracy is a not insignificant constituent. Having gotten a toehold on this world, the AEIOU is bound to do all it can to increase its power and influence here. No sensible person could expect otherwise."

"Hmmm . .." Phule frowned. "I think I'm going to send Chief Potentary Korg a note about these people, emphasizing that they came without our being informed.

From the way he acted when 1 told him about the hunting party, he's pretty touchy about what off-worlders try to do on Zenobia..." Phule was interrupted by the buzz of his communicator.

"Captain, we've made contact with the incoming ship," said- Mother. "Just as you thought-it's those' fat cats Ambassador Gottesman sent here. You want talk to them, or shall I send them away?"

"Oh, thanks, Mother," said Phule. "Of course I'll talk to them-put them through." Then a new thought crossed his mind. "Umm... actually, give me a moment to think about where to have them land. I'd rather not have the AEIOU people notice them."

"It'll be rather a challenge to keep someone from noticing a nearby shuttle landing, sir," said Beeker. "At least, I can think of nothing short of having them alight on the opposite side of the planet, which hardly seems compatible with the ambassador's orders to treat them as honored guests."

"You're right," muttered Phule. "Wait a moment! Why don't we invite the AEIOU people to tour our base, show them all the latest environment-friendly features built into it..."

"It's still a barbarous locution," said Beeker.

"And while they're indoors, the bigwigs' shuttle can land without the AEIOU team noticing it," Phule continued. He was grinning, now. "We just have to keep the two groups from noticing one another! Mother, you call the AEIOU team and extend the invitation-nicely, mind you! I'll talk to the hunters and stall them while we get the environmentalists out of the way. If we play our cards right, we can keep them from ever knowing of each other's presence. And maybe we can even persuade the AEIOU that we're really nice guys, after all."

"It's a really stupid idea, but it just might work," said Mother. "I'll do my best, sweetie. But if they bring Barky, all bets are off."

"I doubt we can get them to leave Barky behind," said Phule. "Well, just warn everybody-particularly the nonhumans in the company-that he's coming, and that they might want to watch their step."

"In case Barky decides to drop a little pollution on his own?" asked Mother. Before Phule could answer, she said, "I'll pass the word, sweetie-poo. Hold on, now-I'm patching the hunters through." There was a light crackling sound from Phule's wrist communicator, and a red LED glowed.