Free Phule Me Twice by Robert Asprin, Peter J. Heck Page A

please-help me!" Sobbing, she fell to the ground right in front of the passerby, her eyes closed and her limbs as limp as she could make them.
    "What's the matter, miss?" said an unfamiliar voice.
    Her eyes popped open. Standing over her, a look of concern on his face and a large tray balanced on his right hand, was a room service waiter.
    "Nothing's wrong," she snapped, and began to rise to her feet, gathering her carefully ripped dress close around her.
    "But, miss, you asked for help," the waiter said, a confused look on his face.
    "Oh, shut up," she said and flounced away. The waiter stared after her for a moment, then shrugged and went about his business.
    A few minutes later, Captain Jester strolled past, without incident. But a short distance away, beyond the range of his hearing, Lola was explaining to Ernie, in very graphic and detailed terms, exactly how important precise timing was to this plan and just how badly he'd missed his cue. A spectator would have had no doubt, at this point, which of the pair was most in need of rescue. Perhaps, fortunately for Ernie, there were no spectators.
     
    Journal #511
    By taking on the task of convincing the Yakuza's leadership that he represented a superfamily, Sushi had in effect elected himself an officer. By this, I mean that he had taken on a level of decision making responsibility well above that of an ordinary legionnaire. Like the officers, he could no longer afford to "goof off" when there was no immediate task in front of him. There was always something that needed doing, something that couldn't wait. And there was always somebody asking him to do one more thing he hadn't planned on.
     
    Sushi leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He'd been staring at the computer screen ever since he'd come off duty, and it felt as if the images on the screen were beginning to burn themselves into his retinas. The tension in the back of his shoulders was another sure sign that he'd been working too hard-or, more precisely, worrying too hard. He wasn't used to this. The fact that he'd brought it on himself didn't make it any better.
    It had been at least an hour-no, nearly two hours, he realized when he checked the time display-since Do-Wop had tried to get him to go down to the bar for a round or two with the guys. He'd told his buddy he'd be right along, "As soon as I get this one detail cleaned up." He was still nowhere near finished. It was tempting just to let things slide and go down for a drink. The only thing that kept him from doing exactly that was the realization that he was playing a life-and-death game, and that it was his own life on the line if he screwed up. That was enough to keep anybody's nose to the grindstone. He hadn't bargained for this. But there wasn't any going back, either.
    A rap on the door jolted into the present. He walked over and said, "Who's there?" There'd been a time when he would just have opened it. Now he thought twice about that kind of thing.
    "It is I, Beeker," came the familiar voice from the other side. Sushi opened the door, and Phule's butler entered.
    "Have a seat," said Sushi, indicating the hotel suite's couch and matching easy chairs. "What's the occasion?"
    "The captain is concerned about a situation involving a member of Reverend Ayres's sect," said the butler. "The difficulty is that many members have had their faces altered, so as to resemble their master. This entails obvious difficulties in telling one from another."
    "Yeah, I know what you mean," said Sushi, lowering himself into a chair opposite the butler. "A couple of guys I know had the operation done, and now I can't recognize 'em until they start talking. What do you want me to do about it?"
    "The police have surveillance camera coverage of an incident in which they believe one of our people is the guilty party," said Beeker, steepling his fingers. "The camera clearly shows a member of the Church of the King robbing and damaging a local restaurant and beating the