"A gentlemen's agreement between those two is the last thing we need," agreed Lola. "But if Victor Phule doesn't have the authority to cut a deal for the casino, why are you worried about him running off to talk with Ernie? If he can't bind you to anything, you've got nothing to lose...Right?"

Bascomb leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. "One thing you learn in this business," he said. "You've always got something to lose. And there's always somebody standing there ready to pick it up and run away, the minute you drop it. So you cover all your exits, is the only way to play the game. Which is why I'm worried about the old man-and about your guy, too."

"They're-wild cards," said Lola, nodding.

"Worse than that," said Bascomb. "I can figure the odds on a wild card, and make allowances for it. Your guy-I thought I had some idea what he was, but now I'm not 'so sure."

"I've known him longer than most people, and sometimes he scares even me," said Lola. "What about Victor Phule?"

"I don't even want to think about Victor Phule," said Tullie. He reached for the synthascotch. "Which is why I'm havin' another drink. How about you, sister?" Lola nodded again. "First good idea I've heard today," she said.

"Hey, Soosh, quittin' time," said Super-Gnat, sticking her hear through the door. Behind her was Tusk-anini, with a baleful stare that might have worried Sushi if he hadn't recognized it as the Volton's habitual expression.

"Sure," said Sushi, stretching his arms above his head. "It doesn't look as if anything's going to happen here, anyhow. Give me a minute to put it on auto for the night, and I'll be right with you."

"All right," said Super-Gnat. "Just don't make Tusk start counting, OK?"

Tusk-anini's scowl became even more menacing. "Why no counting? I count good as anybody," he said.

"Yeah," said Super-Gnat, grinning. "Now all we have to do is teach you when not to do it." She gave him a friendly elbow in the short ribs.

While the two legionnaires bantered, Sushi quickly ran through his routine to set up the listening apparatus for automatic recording of the Zenobians' conversation. He didn't expect to find any great amount of material when he came back. The natives tended to end their workday around the same time as the legionnaires. In fact, Flight Leftenant Qual was often seen in the lounge, having a drink with the captain and the other Legion officers before dinner.

Almost without thinking, he glanced at the translated text scrolling across his computer screen before turning off the display for the night. That was when the word" 'L'viz" jumped out at him. "Hold on a minute, guys," he said. "Something weird's happening here..."

"Sure, like that's anything new," said Super-Gnat "This whole outfit is about the weirdest experience I've ever had anything to do with."

"Uh-huh," said Sushi, peering intently at the screen. He spoke a soft command, and the text scrolled backwards. He leaned closer, muttering softly.

"Uh-oh," said Super-Gnat "This looks like one of those minutes that turns out to be all night long. Hey, Soosh, are you comin' or not?"

"He standing still, looks like to me," said Tusk-anini.

"Yeah," said Sushi, turning around to meet their gazes. "Look, guys, something really interesting just came up. It'll take me a little while to figure out. Why don't you go ahead and I'll catch up with you."

"Sure," said Super-Gnat, shrugging. "We'll save you a seat Just don't expect us to save you any beer."

"Yeah, OK," said Sushi, obviously only half-listening. Then he said, more to himself than to any listener, "Why didn't I think of this before?"

But Super-Gnat and Tusk-anini were already gone.

"Where in Ghu's name are they?" Tullie Bascomb stared through bloodshot eyes out the window of his office at the neon-lit landscape of Lorelei. He and Lola had been waiting for Victor Phule and Ernie to come back for over, six hours. Several discreet (but increasingly urgent) searches of the hotel and surrounding area had produced no sign of the two delinquents.

"Yow guess is as good as mine," said Lola. "I'd have bet on the nearest bar, but we've tried that-the nearest dozen bars, I think. And you say they're not in Mr. Phule's room."

"Security says so, and I trust my security people," said Bascomb. "More than I trust Victor Phule-let alone your guy."

Lola set down her drink-she really didn't need any more, not if she wanted to have some semblance of her wits about her when Ernie and Phule Sr. returned with whatever crazy deal they'd agreed on-assuming they did agree on something. She looked Bascomb directly in the eye and said, "Look, my guy just wants you to deliver what you said you were gonna pay to the jackpot winner-a partner's share of the casino stock." She paused. "I don't see how it's our problem if you didn't intend for him to win. Not if you're running an honest business, the way you claim you are."

Bascomb drew himself up straight, and said, with as much dignity as he could muster after four stiff drinks, "I wish I had any reason to believe you two are as honest as 2 Fat Chance Casino. We're as honest as anybody in this business-a lot more honest than most-and if you've done your homework, you ought to know that"

"All right, I'll give you that much," said Lola. "The point is, my client Mr. Erkeep is entitled to the jackpot for the machine he played. The casino has no rules posted concerning any eligibility for prizes or jackpots other than having to be of legal gambling age-which on Lorelei means tall enough to reach the handles of the slots. My client qualifies."

"What if he obtained the winning chip fraudulently?" said Bascomb. "We've got precedents covering that."

Lola shook her head emphatically. "Fraudulent? How do you get fraudulent? Vic Phule gave Mr. Erkeep a chip to gamble with, he played and won, and gave Mr. Phule back half his winnings-as agreed up front. The remaining chips were his to do with as he wanted. He could've thrown them into a trash disintegrator if he'd wanted--in fact I bet you'd like that."

"Nab, not really," said Bascomb. "There's always a small percentage of chips that never get cashed in. The customers take 'em home for souvenirs, or lose 'em down a drain or someplace else where they never get found. Sure, it's money we don't have to payout, but the legal beagles and the bean counters get headaches about it. They always worry that somebody's gonna show up one day with a huge spacechest full of chips and clean out the bank. Outstanding liabilities, they call it. And when they worry, that gives me headaches."

Lola stared hard at him for a long moment, then nodded. "OK, I guess I do believe you," she said. "But if you're so worried about what the bean counters and the shysters think, why'd you even offer a deal like the one Ernie won? Didn't they scream bloody murder?"

"We never asked 'em," said Bascomb. "I thought it up, and Captain Jester approved it himself, and that was good enough. We didn't expect anybody but the captain's father to play at such lousy odds. And if by some quirk of the odds, the damn machines did payoff, the captain didn't see anything wrong with passing a share of the casino to his old man. As long as it stayed in the family, he figured he wouldn't have to worry about how it was being run."

"What, he thinks his whole family has the golden touch ?"

"No, he just thinks they're smart enough to leave something to the professionals when they can't do it themselves," said Bascomb. He shook his head, and continued, "Now that I've put him in the hole this way, I wouldn't blame him if he decided to get in some new professionals to run the joint." He sighed and took another sip of his drink.

"Well, you're not fired yet," said Lola. "Look, as long as my guy gets a fair shake out of this, he's not going to let them cut you loose."