Then, in a different tone, "Hey, Flort, didja view the Tail-vippers last sundown?"

"Sssst, dey raise a stench in my nostrils," said a third voice-apparently Flort. "Dey haven't had an efficient leaper since Blurg retreated to his domicile."

"Watch it, Zoot," said Qual. "Don't overcrank..."

"Tightly vocussed at two and a fift," said the first voice again. Then Zoot added, "Don't underrate Kloog. Yen he's in the league a little longer been, an exemplary leaper he'll be."

"Kloog is widout grace," growled Flort. "He could take lessons from a gryff."

"This shit don't make no sense," said Do- Wop, drumming his fingers on the table next to the equipment.

"1 think they're talking about some kind of sports team from their home city," said Sushi. "Hard to tell exactly, because the words don't all translate into anything we have an exact equivalent for."

"That's for damn sure," said Do-Wop. "I think Rev's lookin' for a weefle in a viddleworf. If it wasn't such a sweet deal workin' for him instead of pulling regular Legion duty, I'd tell him so myself."

Sushi looked at him with raised eyebrows, then said, "Well, I don't see any percentage in ruining a good scam, either. But you know, even if Rev's ideas never pan out, this whole Zenobian language thing is fascinating. If I could figure out a way to rig translators to deal with it, I bet there's a lot of money to be made. So I'm not just in this to get out of other work. And if you're not just looking for a new way to goof off, it could work out to benefit you, too."

Do-Wop looked doubtful. "I dunno, man. You listen to a bunch of crazy stuff long enough, you could maybe end up crazy yourself."

Over the speaker, Flight Leftenant Qual's voice said, "Now doxen up the regulator for a test projection."

"Gott it, Leftenant," said Zoot. Then, after a pause, "Regulator energetically doxened; ready to project, sir."

Do-Wop waved a hand. "See what I mean? Nothin' but crazy stuff. Maybe it's worth a million, I dunno."

"Kloog seems graceful enough for me," said Zoot over the speaker. "The purpose is not the senses to bedazzle, but to advance the pellet."

"Kloog cannot retain da pellet in his claws long enough to advance it," said Flort. "He raises a continual stench in my nostrils."

"Maintain the doxenization or we will be forced to recommence," said Qual, sternly. "Your sporting chatter can be retained for a more propitious occasion."

"Double vision, Flight Leftenant," said the other two Zenobians, almost in unison.

"Double vision?" said Do-Wop. "I told ya, this is crazy stuff. You keep listenin' to these lizards, you're gonna end up with scales on your ass."

"So should I tell Rev you're tired of working on this project?" said Sushi, with a mischievous expression. "I hear tell Remmie' s asking for volunteers for a heavy construction squad..."

"Uh, hey, Soosh, just kiddin'," said Do-Wop. "Lizard talk is the real deal for me. What did you say you wanted me to do?"

"Well, for starters, you could run down to supply and get about a dozen blank recording cartridges," said Sushi. "We don't want any of this immortal Zenobian conversation to get lost just because we ran out of cartridges, do we now?"

"Cartridges comin' up," said Do-Wop, and headed out the door.

Sushi watched him leave, chuckling, then put the headphones on again. Maybe there was a way to broaden the standard semantic filtering circuits...

"You've got the right idea, old boy," said Victor Phule, standing up. He put a hand on Ernie's shoulder. "Come on-I'm buying. We'll have things sorted out in no time at all." Tullie Bascomb looked up in alarm as Ernie stood up, grinning. "Hold on, Mr. Phule. The captain hasn't authorized you to strike any agreements with these people..."

Lola was already on her feet, hands on her hips. "Ernie, I can't let you make any deals without my advice."

"Oh, encapsulate it," said Victor Phule, waving a hand. "You two buzzards want to dictate every pixel of this agreement, but that's the stupidest possible way to go about things. I'll tell you what's going to happen. This gentleman and I will sit down together and find a solution we can both agree on. Then we'll bring it back to you two to fiddle with the details; I'm sure there'll be plenty of detail work left for you. But for now, you're going to leave it up to the principals. And Bascomb, if you don't like it, you can call up my son. I suspect he'll tell you to step aside and let two gentlemen arrive at something we can all live with.

Come on, Ernie. Let's go get a drink." He walked out the door arm in arm with Ernie, leaving Bascomb and Lola staring after them, openmouthed.

"What do you think they're up to?" asked Lola. She and Tullie Bascomb were nursing twin glasses of synthascotch on the rocks in his office, waiting for Victor Phule and Ernie to return.

"Hell, I'd just like to know where they are," said Tullie.

"No sign of 'em in the casino lounge, and the security system says that nobody's entered Mr. Phule's room in the last three hours. They must be outside the Fat Chance, and I don't like that one damn bit."

"Neither do I," said Lola. "I hope they at least took Mr. Phule's bodyguard along with them."

"Well, there's no sign of him, either, so that's the way to bet," said Tullie. He took a long sip of his drink, then glanced at the computer monitor on his desk. "Just how far do you trust your guy, by the way? Is he going to listen to sense once they come back to us?"

"I trust him just about as far as you trust your guy," said Lola, staring at him over the rim of her own glass. "Which, from the way you've been talking, is about as far as you can throw a small asteroid two-handed."

"That's what I was afraid of," said Tullie, grimly. "I've got one advantage over you, though."

"What's that?"

"My guy is my boss's father," said the casino manager.

He can get me in a bunch of trouble, and he's as stubborn as any man I've ever seen. But I don't think Captain Jester is gonna fire me just on the old man's say-so. Not unless he's got some reason to believe I've really screwed up.

Your guy, on the other hand..."

Lola grimaced. "Yeah, does the phrase 'loose cannon' mean anything to you? And since he's the one who pulled the handle on that machine of yours, Lorelei law says he's the one who gets the last word. Well, I've talked him out of stupid things before, and I can do it again."

"Lorelei law is an extremely flexible instrument," said Tullie Bascomb, grinning. "Considering who made it, that shouldn't surprise anyone. I think we can work with that."

"As long as you don't work with it to cheat my client out of what he's got coming to him," said Lola, firmly. She stared at her empty glass, then looked up, and said, "What exactly are the terms you were offering on that jackpot?"

"If you want to know the real truth, we didn't expect anybody but Victor Phule to win it," said Bascomb. "We set up that whole bank of slots with odds that ought to have dissuaded anybody with brains from playing it, and a price that should've clinched the deal."

"What were you doing that for?" asked Lola, setting down the glass.

"The old skinflint got the idea that our payouts were too generous," said Tullie. He'd emptied his glass quite some time before. "Victor Phule thought he could prove it by playing a system, and we decided to let him-teach him a lesson the hard way. Captain Jester approved it, too. But who the hell expected a billion-to-one shot to payoff in less than a week?"

"Well, I'm just as glad it was my guy who hit the winner," said Lola. "Remember, though-I'm here to make sure the casino honors its promise. You offered a share of the casino, and that's what you're going to deliver. Or I'm going to yell so loud they hear it on Altair N."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," said Tollie. "We'll play it as honest as we can afford to, don't you worry. What worries me is whether those two gentlemen are going to cook up something neither one of us can live with."