Phule's Paradise by Robert Asprin (rsv) Read Free Book Online

pose only slightly.
          "My thoughts exactly." The commander nodded, jotting another note on his pad."I assume you're interested in us finding you work in the restaurant kitchen?"
          The cook gave a quick nod. "Things can go wrong in a kitchen-too many things. Need someone there to watch for"-he gestured with his hand slightly as he searched for the right word-"too many accidents. Bad for food ... bad for business."
          Phule leaned back in his chair.
          "Now, you realize that you probably won't be head cook or chef for the casino hotel ... that you'll probably have to report to someone else."
          Escrima hesitated for a moment, then bobbed his head again.
          "Good," he said, flashing a quick smile. "Sometimes it's good not to be in charge. Maybe ... how you say ... learn something new for a change."
          The commander shook his head slightly. "I was thinking more in terms of possible trouble," he said. "Say, for example, if someone told you to do something you didn't want to ... or maybe even criticized your cooking techniques."
          Escrima's dark eyes glittered for a moment. The cook's temper was legendary, and he was particularly sensitive to slights regarding his culinary skills. In fact, his presence in what was once the problem company of the Legion was due to several such spirited discussions ... which led to hospitalization of his critics.
          "I promise, Captain. No trouble ... I never start trouble."
     
    "Do you mind if we do this together, Captain? I think it will save time."
          Phule could not keep the surprise off his face.
          "Brandy ... Super Gnat. Certainly. Come in together if you wish."
          The two women filed into the office, giving the sketchiest of salutes before seating themselves in front of their commander's desk. Though once standoffish toward each other, they had grown into a close friendship since the company was reorganized and reoriented.
          "The reason we're both here," Brandy said, taking the lead, "is that we figure you'll have the same objection to either of us volunteering. This way, we only have to go over it once ... win or lose."
          The commander nodded. "Very well. Proceed."
          "The way we see it," the top sergeant continued, "you'll figure that we can't go under cover because of that pinup spread that we did with Mother-that we'd be recognized as part of the company."
          "It's a factor I'd have to consider," Phule agreed. "Also, the fact that Super Gnat represented us in the fencing match with the Red Eagles, which was covered by the media."
          "I was wearing a mask for most of that," Super Gnat said, waving a hand in vague dismissal.
          "True, but you weren't wearing a mask for that photo session ... or much of anything else, as I recall."
          "That's what we wanted to talk to you about," Brandy interrupted hastily. "We wanted to make the point that women can change their appearance dramatically with a change of hairstyle or color, or makeup, or wardrobe."
          "Or just by putting our clothes on," Super Gnat added with a bawdy wink. "Tell me the truth, sir. When you look at one of those nudie photo spreads, how much time do you spend looking at the woman's face? Would you recognize her if you saw her on the street? Without a staple through her navel?"
          "I ... I'll admit I never gave the subject much thought," Phule said. Though he tried not to show it, the conversation was making him uncomfortable ... just as the photo spread in question had when it first appeared. "If we accept for the moment that you can change your appearance sufficiently to avoid recognition, though, what would you do? Do you have any specific covers in mind?"
          The Gnat shrugged. "No problem there. I used to do a little waitressing from time to time, both dinner and cocktail. I'd probably prefer cocktail waitressing, if given a