"Can't be all that good if it don't leave you time to goof off," said Do-Wop, sulking. "You're startin' to act like a freakin' officer."

"Who, me? Watch your mouth," said Sushi with an indignant expression. "If I'd wanted to be an officer, I'd have had my father buy me a commission and gone to the academy."

Do-Wop slouched against the doorway and crossed his arms. "All I know is what I see," he said. "You'd think now that we're in the theme park business, we'd get a chance to go on a ride or two. But no. This whole Yazooka thing has you tied up hand and foot."

"Yakuza," corrected Sushi. "Look, I'm sorry. I really have to finish this report, OK? Why don't you get somebody else to go along on the new rides with you this time?"

"Like who?" asked Do-Wop. "Tusk-anini would go along for the ride, but what we gonna talk about while we're waiting on line? He'd just pull out a book and start reading."

"You could take Mahatma or the Gambolts," said Sushi, looking up distractedly.

"Sure, except they'd have to cut out of training, which they wouldn't do. I tell ya, Soosh, this new generation of legionnaires is going straight down the tubes. Ain't a single one of 'em that really appreciates the fine points of goofing off."

Sushi chuckled. "I suppose not," he said with a broad grin. "Remember, back on Haskin's Planet, how we rigged the drinks dispenser in the Plaza Hotel to double as a slot machine? You had to push the button for Diet Prunola to get it to take your bet."

"Yeah," said Do-Wop. "Worked like a charm until Chocolate Harry found the machine and complained to the management when he couldn't get a can of the stuff."

"We should've figured there'd be somebody who'd drink that god-awful junk," said Sushi, finally looking up from the computer and laughing. "But you're right; none of these rookies would ever think up a trick like that. And none of them would set up a holo of themselves when they had to stand guard duty, so it'd look like they were walking their rounds when Lieutenant Armstrong came checking up on them."

"I don't think Armstrong would ever have found out about that one if I hadn't forgot and left the projector running after I was supposed to come off duty," said Do-Wop. "Yeah, those were the days, all right."

Sushi chuckled. "They sure were," he agreed. "We must have been the champion goof-offs of Omega Company-and if that's not world-class, I don't know what is."

Do-Wop laughed and said, "Yeah, we had it down to a science back in the old days." Then a troubling thought came to him, and he frowned. "So what's wrong with us, Soosh? Why aren't we out raising hell like we used to?"

Sushi's expression was dead serious as he answered. "Maybe we're just growing up, Do-Wop."

"Growing up?" Do-Wop scoffed. "No freakin' way." He paused for a moment, then added, "I couldn't look myself in the mirror if I thought I was growing up."

"That's OK," said Sushi, grinning again. "Nobody else can stand to look at you, so there's no reason you should have to, either."

Do-Wop punched him on the biceps and said, "See? You just proved my point. So, don't you think we oughta go check out that new coaster?"

Sushi sighed and turned off the computer. "I guess I'm not going to get any more work done until I agree, am I? OK, then, let's go."

Journal #475

The Omega Company's move to Landoor was not without its complications, primary among them the necessity of vacating the Fat Chance Casino on Lorelei, where the company had become majority stockholders. Leaving such a casino unattended would have been the equivalent of sending engraved invitations to every rustler in the galaxy. Even when the company had been on duty, organized criminal elements had tried to take over the casino. And while their attempts had failed, any sign of weakness would inevitably attract more predators.

My employer's solution was to give the impression that the casino was guarded as closely as ever, with a squad of actors impersonating Legion personnel (and a cadre of trained security personnel for the infrequent cases where real muscle was needed). And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

The tourist shuttle came to a stop in front of the Fat Chance Casino, disembarking a small crowd of sophonts of assorted shapes, sizes, and colors, with luggage to match. One thing they had in common: All were comparatively affluent. Otherwise, they could not have afforded the spaceship fare to the orbiting pleasure colony of Lorelei, the gambling center of the galaxy. Lorelei was in the business of separating tourists from their money, and it frowned on tourists who had no money to be separated from. This batch, being fresh off the ship and therefore presumably flush, was greeted at the door with the broadest of smiles.

A casino manager, dressed in an outfit that somehow gave the impression of style and sophistication while still remaining unmistakably a uniform, addressed the group. "Welcome to the Fat Chance, gentlebeings!" she said warmly. "You've chosen the friendliest destination on Lorelei, and we want all our guests to enjoy every minute of their stay with us. So, relax, put aside any worries you might have, and get ready for a great time. If you'd like to get to your rooms right away, please step into the hotel lobby to your left, where our clerks will register you and make you feel at home."

She stepped back and gestured toward the elegant doors behind her, modeled after those of a famous resort on old Earth, and continued. "For those who'd prefer to get started having fun, you can step into the casino lobby to your right or go directly ahead to one of our Galaxy-class restaurants. Our staff will take care of your luggage, and if you'd like to have it checked into your rooms, simply give me a copy of your registration letter, and we'll have it done for you while you enjoy yourself. We'll bring your room key to you. Does anyone have any questions?"

A pink-faced human in a shirt that looked as if it glowed in the dark raised his hand and said gloomily, "I don't know about anybody else, but I'm not letting my luggage out of my sight. My brother went to New Baltimore on a vacation last year, and they stole his suitcase right out of the taxi-while it was moving!"

"Oh, Henry!" said the thin woman standing next to him. "This is the Fat Chance. Nobody would dare try something like that here. After all, the guards are from the Space Legion!" She pointed to the casino entrance, flanked by two black-uniformed figures. Both looked trim, fit, and alert.

"That's right, ma'am," said the casino manager brightly. "And not just any Space Legion company-we have Phule's Company standing guard here. And as you may have heard, the legionnaires are all casino stockholders. It's not just a job to them. It's to their personal benefit to see that all of our guests have a safe, enjoyable experience-and come to visit us again."

"And lose plenty of our money," grumbled Henry. "Well, it won't work this time. I've got a way to beat the house, and the Fat Chance is going to be the proving ground for my system!"

"That's the spirit," said a new voice. The crowd of tourists turned and saw an enthusiastic young man dressed in a Legion officer's uniform. He was slim and energetic, with a smile that radiated sincerity. "If there's one casino on Lorelei to test a system at, this is the one! For starters, we won't throw you out if you start winning with it, the way some other houses will."

"Captain Jester!" said the casino employee.

"I was just on my way back to the office from a lunch date," said the smiling figure. "Heard this guest's comment and thought I'd made sure he knew our policy. Carry on, Miss Shadwell, I'm sure you're doing a fine job." He turned to the guests and said, "Welcome to the Fat Chance. If there's any trouble, my office door is always open." He smiled, sketched a bow, and hurried off.