sharp as it’s been in ages-why, I whipped that young upstart five or six different ways, even though he did try bringing in that little lizard as a ringer. I must say, he got lucky the last day we played. And then, to run completely out of balls! You’d think that’s something any golf course would make sure to have plenty of.”
“Yes, it does seem odd,” said Sparrowhawk, smugly.
“Just as well in the long run,” mused the general. “I need to get back to Rahnsome Base. I expect the boys’ve missed me-and I’ve got some damn good stories for them, now. Some of those fellows never get out in the field, see the troops, at all. Good way to go soft, if you ask me.”
“Yes, sir,” said Sparrowhawk. “As much as I enjoy getting out of the office, there’s going to be plenty of work waiting when we’re back.”
“It’ll be a little longer, yet,” said Blitzkrieg. “We stop over at Lorelei, you know. I have a lucky feeling, and I’m going to put it to the test in those casinos. You need to play that kind of hunch when you have it.”
“Very good, sir,” said Sparrowhawk. “I hope you’ll forgive me if I catch up with some work, instead. I’m afraid I’ve never been very good at gambling.”
“All work, no play, eh? You’ll wear yourself out at a young age,” said the general. “One reason I can keep going is that I’ve learned to pace myself, take time to smell the roses and pick a few, too. Why, I remember…” And the general was off on one of his rambling, self-congratulatory reminiscences.
Sparrowhawk smiled quietly. She’d heard it all a thousand times before. An occasional nod or “Yes, sir,” would suffice to convince Blitzkrieg that she was listening. And when they got to Lorelei, she’d take the opportunity to revamp her stock portfolio. All of a sudden, Phule-Pruf Mu-nitons was looking like a must-have commodity…
“Back again!” said Phule, as he stepped off the shuttle onto Zenobian soil. “Funny, this place is starting to feel like home.”
“I wouldn’t get too used to it, sir,” said Beeker. The butler followed close behind Phule, arm in arm with Nightingale. They’d decided, after some discussion, to end their vacation in Rome and travel back to Zenobia with Phule. He continued, “The Space Legion does have a policy of rotating its personnel from one assignment to another. In the normal course of things, another company will eventually get the Zenobia assignment. Now that General Blitzkrieg’s had a chance to see the place, he may realize that Zenobia is hardly the hardship duty he thought he was doling out when he agreed to let Omega Company come here.”
“Don’t bet on it, Captain,” said Lieutenant Armstrong, who’d accompanied Gears out to meet the shuttle. He chuckled, and added, “After some of what happened to him here, the general’s likely to think Zenobia’s the worst hellhole in the galaxy.”
“Really?” said Phule, raising an eyebrow. “I hope the company didn’t go out of its way to give the general trouble…”
“Oh, no,” said Armstrong. “In fact, we went out of our way to make him feel at home. Built a golf course for him and everything…“
“A golf course?” Phule’s eyebrow went up another notch. “That’s definitely bending over backward. I didn’t know anyone here even played. I mean, it’s been years since I even had a set of clubs, but I daresay I hit the ball pretty well back when I was in practice.”
“I-and a few other people on base-will be glad to give you the chance to prove that,” said Armstrong, grinning. “Just one warning-we’ve had a lot of practice since you were gone.”
“Practice?” Phule was even more puzzled. “I thought the general was here… How in the galaxy did you ever get a chance to practice golf while he was stalking around and growling at everything on the base?”
“Well, it’s a long story,” said Armstrong. “Why don’t we get you back to your office, and you can listen to it in comfort, with a cold drink in your hand.”
“Excellent advice,” said Beeker. “I suggest we follow it, sir. There are tales to tell on all sides.”
“So it appears,” said Phule, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Gears, pop open that luggage compartment and we’ll stow our gear for the ride back.”
“Sure thing, Captain,” said Gears, pushing the button to open the hatch. Phule lifted his duffel bag, and Gears stepped out to help stow the luggage.
Suddenly a voice came from the intercom speaker on the hoverjeep’s dash: Mother, from Comm Central. “Welcome back, darlin‘-you too, Beeky. Suggest you all duck inside the jeep for a sec-we got another incoming shuttle, and you might want to get out of the backwash when it lands.”
“Another shuttle?” Phule was genuinely astounded now. “Who in the world could be landing so soon after us? Why didn’t the shuttle service put them on the same ship as us?”
“I dunno, but I reckon we’re about to find out,” said Gears, tossing in Phule’s bag and returning to the driver’s seat. “Hop in and close the doors, unless y’all want dust in your drawers.”
“I’ll take a pass on that,” said Nightingale, climbing into the jeep’s back seat. Phule, Beeker, and Armstrong followed suit. After a moment, they could make out a moving object high above the desert, somewhat to the east of the landing site. Gradually it came west and descended until they could see that it was, in fact, another shuttle like the one Phule’s group had arrived in. In due time it slowed and touched down in a cloud of dust, not far from the first shuttle, which was still waiting for its passengers to clear the area before taking off again.
After a couple of minutes the dust settled. To Phule’s surprise, two familiar figures, both in Legion uniform, emerged. “Sushi!” he exclaimed. “Do-Wop! What were you two doing off-world?”
“Chasin‘ our tails in a circle,” said Do-Wop, sourly. “If it hadn’t been for the last bit, I’d say it was all a waste of time.”
“Waste of time? How can you say that?” said Sushi, although he had a weary look on his face. “You’ve had a first-class tour of the triffest vacation spots of the galaxy, at company expense. And in the end, we did our job-see, the captain’s home, all in one piece. And so are Beeker and Nightingale.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Do-Wop. “Except we’re back on a freakin‘ Legion base, too. Back to the same lousy routine, sergeants and marchin’ and orders and drills… You tellin‘ me that’s good?”
“It could be worse, young man,” said Beeker, with a barely raised eyebrow.
Do-Wop stared at the butler, scowling. “OK, I’ll bite,” he said at last. “What’s worse than the same lousy routine?”
“Why, no routine at all,” said Beeker. “I would find it intolerable to arise each morning with no clear idea what to expect that day.“
“I can vouch for that,” said Nightingale, smiling at the butler. “I had to hide the power module for his Port- a-Brain to stop him from trying to work on the captain’s portfolio. He was so antsy for his routine that he couldn’t just take it easy, even on vacation.”
“That sounds just like good old Beeker,” said Phule, grinning. “I guess I know why you never saw my emails, too.”
“As much as I enjoyed the vacation, I have to say I was disappointed not to be able to use the computer, sir,” said the butler, holding his head high. “After all, if I’d been able to work on your portfolio, I’d have had a perfect excuse to skip the Floribunda Fete.”
“You jerk!” said Nightingale, punching him on the arm-but grinning, at the same time. “Just see if I take you along on my next vacation!”
“That’s all right,” said Lieutenant Rembrandt. “Next time you go on vacation, I think there’ll be plenty of volunteers to go with you. In fact, you can put me first on the list. How about you, Armstrong?”
Armstrong raised a quizzical eyebrow. “What, and miss golfing with the general?” he said.
Phule knew he’d eventually figure out why everyone found Armstrong’s remark so hilarious. For now, he was just glad to be back with Omega Company.
