A Phule and His Money by Robert Asprin, Peter J. Heck Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Robert Asprin, Peter J. Heck
resembled an armed camp. There were cartons of field rations and heavy-machine oil piled up as barriers, with razor wire strung between them. Farther back was a bunker made of soap boxes, the peak of a helmet visible just above it.
Despite himself, Armstrong felt a touch of pride that the Omega Mob could accomplish something so quickly. It had never been that way before Phule had arrived.
"Halt and identify yourself," came a mechanical voice from behind the barbed wire barricade. "Keep your hands in sight, and make no sudden moves."
"It's Armstrong," said the lieutenant, straining to see the speaker. "Louie, is that you? You know me, Louie. What's the situation here? It looks like you're ready for an invasion."
"Do not approach closer," said the voice. "What is the password?"
"Password?" Armstrong frowned. There'd been no password needed to enter the supply depot before-in fact, there'd been nothing to stop any curious passerby from walking up to it from the street beyond. Something must have changed. "Chocolate Harry, are you in there?" he called. Perhaps the supply sergeant would let him in and explain this strange game-whatever it was.
"There is nobody named Chocolate Harry here," said the voice. "Do not approach closer, and keep your hands in sight."
Armstrong raised his hands, putting his mouth within range of the wrist communicator. "Mother, there's something strange going on at supply," he said softly. "Can you patch me through to Chocolate Harry?"
"If I can't do it, nobody can," said Mother's voice. "Keep your pants on, sonny, and we'll hook you right up."
After a moment, another voice came through the speaker. "Who's there? Make it quick, I ain't got much time."
"Harry, is that you? This is Armstrong. What in the world is going on here?"
"You sound like Armstrong, all right, but I gotta be sure," said Chocolate Harry's voice. There was a brief hesitation, then "OK, who led the Galactic League in free flies last season?"
"Huh?" Armstrong thought frantically. Finally he said, "I don't know. Harry, this is ridiculous-I don't know anything about gravball."
"Hah! It's not gravball, it's scrumble. That's enough for me, though-you gotta be Armstrong. Ignorantest dude I ever saw when it comes to sports. What you want, Lieutenant?"
"Harry, I'm right outside the supply depot. The place looks like a fortress. What are you guarding-chips from the casino?"
"Right outside, hey? You see anybody suspicious out there, Armstrong?"
"There's nobody here except me! Tell your guard to let me in-I'm on company business."
"OK, Lieutenant, but hurry-and don't make any funny looking moves. Louie's got an itchy trigger appendage."
Lieutenant Armstrong stood up and smiled, waving to the Synthian on guard. He moved gingerly through the hastily implanted barriers outside the door to the supply depot, uncomfortably aware of Louie's shotgun aimed at him the entire time. Finally, he reached the door; it opened a crack and he saw the muzzle of a splat gun pointed at him briefly before the door opened wider to admit him. "Come on in, man, have a seat. Fix you a coffee?" Chocolate Harry said, beckoning; his gaze remained fixed on the area outside. Armstrong dashed through the door and plopped himself onto the proffered chair.
"What the devil is going on here?" demanded Armstrong. "Are we expecting another raid from the Mob?"
"No, worse than that," said Chocolate Harry, throwing a heavy metal bar into place across the door. "They've finally found me. I knew it was comin', I knew it all along. But they're not gonna just walk in and take me, Lieutenant. They got a fight on their hands if they try that."
"What in the galaxy are you talking about?" demanded Armstrong. "Who are they, and why are they after you?"
"It's a long story, Lieutenant," said Harry. "I'll give you the quick run-through. You know I used to ride with the Outlaws?"
"Yes, of course, we've all heard the story," said Armstrong.
"Well, then you know the part about me
Despite himself, Armstrong felt a touch of pride that the Omega Mob could accomplish something so quickly. It had never been that way before Phule had arrived.
"Halt and identify yourself," came a mechanical voice from behind the barbed wire barricade. "Keep your hands in sight, and make no sudden moves."
"It's Armstrong," said the lieutenant, straining to see the speaker. "Louie, is that you? You know me, Louie. What's the situation here? It looks like you're ready for an invasion."
"Do not approach closer," said the voice. "What is the password?"
"Password?" Armstrong frowned. There'd been no password needed to enter the supply depot before-in fact, there'd been nothing to stop any curious passerby from walking up to it from the street beyond. Something must have changed. "Chocolate Harry, are you in there?" he called. Perhaps the supply sergeant would let him in and explain this strange game-whatever it was.
"There is nobody named Chocolate Harry here," said the voice. "Do not approach closer, and keep your hands in sight."
Armstrong raised his hands, putting his mouth within range of the wrist communicator. "Mother, there's something strange going on at supply," he said softly. "Can you patch me through to Chocolate Harry?"
"If I can't do it, nobody can," said Mother's voice. "Keep your pants on, sonny, and we'll hook you right up."
After a moment, another voice came through the speaker. "Who's there? Make it quick, I ain't got much time."
"Harry, is that you? This is Armstrong. What in the world is going on here?"
"You sound like Armstrong, all right, but I gotta be sure," said Chocolate Harry's voice. There was a brief hesitation, then "OK, who led the Galactic League in free flies last season?"
"Huh?" Armstrong thought frantically. Finally he said, "I don't know. Harry, this is ridiculous-I don't know anything about gravball."
"Hah! It's not gravball, it's scrumble. That's enough for me, though-you gotta be Armstrong. Ignorantest dude I ever saw when it comes to sports. What you want, Lieutenant?"
"Harry, I'm right outside the supply depot. The place looks like a fortress. What are you guarding-chips from the casino?"
"Right outside, hey? You see anybody suspicious out there, Armstrong?"
"There's nobody here except me! Tell your guard to let me in-I'm on company business."
"OK, Lieutenant, but hurry-and don't make any funny looking moves. Louie's got an itchy trigger appendage."
Lieutenant Armstrong stood up and smiled, waving to the Synthian on guard. He moved gingerly through the hastily implanted barriers outside the door to the supply depot, uncomfortably aware of Louie's shotgun aimed at him the entire time. Finally, he reached the door; it opened a crack and he saw the muzzle of a splat gun pointed at him briefly before the door opened wider to admit him. "Come on in, man, have a seat. Fix you a coffee?" Chocolate Harry said, beckoning; his gaze remained fixed on the area outside. Armstrong dashed through the door and plopped himself onto the proffered chair.
"What the devil is going on here?" demanded Armstrong. "Are we expecting another raid from the Mob?"
"No, worse than that," said Chocolate Harry, throwing a heavy metal bar into place across the door. "They've finally found me. I knew it was comin', I knew it all along. But they're not gonna just walk in and take me, Lieutenant. They got a fight on their hands if they try that."
"What in the galaxy are you talking about?" demanded Armstrong. "Who are they, and why are they after you?"
"It's a long story, Lieutenant," said Harry. "I'll give you the quick run-through. You know I used to ride with the Outlaws?"
"Yes, of course, we've all heard the story," said Armstrong.
"Well, then you know the part about me
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