MA07 MYTH Inc Link

by Robert Asprin

  “May I help you, Miss?” the twitty-looking fellow seated there said with a notable lack of sincerity.

  “Yes. I’d like to see Mr. Hoos.”

  That got us a long, slow once-over with the weak yes, his gaze lingering on me for several extra beats. I did my best to look innocent ... which is not that easy to do for a troll.

  “I’m afraid that’s quite impossible,” he said at last, returning his attention to the work on his desk.

  I could sense Tananda fighting with her temper and mentally crossed my fingers.

  “It’s extremely urgent.”

  The eyes flicked our way again, and he set his pencil down with a visible sigh.

  “Then perhaps you’d better deal with me.”

  “I have some information for Mr. Hoos, but I think he’d want to hear it personally.”

  “That’s your opinion. If, after hearing it, I agree, then you might be allowed to repeat it to Mr. Hoos.”

  Stalemate.

  Tananda seemed to recognize this as well.

  “Well, I don’t want to start a panic, but I have it on good authority that this bank is going to be robbed.”

  I was a little surprised by this, though I did my best not to show it. The bank manager, however, seemed to take it in stride.

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, young lady,” he said with a tight smile.

  “My sources are seldom wrong,” she insisted.

  “You’re new to Arcadia, aren’t you?”

  “Well...”

  “Once you’ve learned your way around, you’ll realize that there isn’t a criminal in the dimension who would steal from Mr. Hoos, much less try to rob his bank.”

  This Hoos chap was starting to sound like quite a fellow. Little sister, however, was not so easily deterred.

  “What about a criminal from another dimension? Someone who isn’t so impressed with Mr. Hoos?”

  The manager raised an eyebrow.

  “Like who, for example?”

  “Well ... what if I and my friend here decided to ...” That was as far as she got.

  For all his stuffiness, I had to admit the manager was good. I didn’t see him move or signal, but suddenly the bank was filled with armed guards. For some reason, their attention seemed to be centered on us.

  I nudged Tananda, but she waved me off irritably.

  “... Of course, that was simply a ‘what if.’”

  “Of course,” the manager smiled, without humor. “I believe our business is concluded. Good day.”

  “But ...”

  “I said ‘Good day.’”

  With that he returned to his work, ignoring us completely.

  It would have been bordering on lunacy to try to take on the whole room full of guards. I was therefore startled to realize little sister was starting to contemplate that very action. As casually as I could, I started whistling Gilbert and Sullivan’s “A Policeman’s Lot Is Not a Happy One” as a gentle reminder of the police station not half a block away. Tananda gave me a look that would curdle cream, but she got the message and we left without further ado.

  “Now what, little sister?” I said, as tactfully as I could manage.

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  I thought about that for a few moments.

  “No,” I admitted frankly. “Seems to me you’ve come up against a dead end.”

  “Then you weren’t listening in there,” she said, giving me one of her smug grins. “The manager gave me a big clue for where to try next.”

  “... And that was?”

  “Don’t you remember he said no criminal would rob this Hoos guy?”

  “Quite. So?”

  “... So if there’s a criminal connection here, I should be able to get some information out of the underworld.”

  That sounded a tad ominous to me, but I have long since learned not to argue with Tananda when she gets her mind set on something. Instead, I decided to try a different approach.

  “Not to be a noodge,” I noodged, “but how do you propose to find said underworld? They don’t exactly list in the yellow pages, you know.”

  Her pace slowed noticeably.

  “That’s a problem,” she admitted. “Still, there must be a way to get information around ...”

  “Can I offer you a glass of cold juice, Miss?”

  It was my friend from the morning with his vending cart. A part of me wanted to wave him off, as interrupting little sister in mid-scheme is not the healthiest of pastimes, but I couldn’t think of a way to do it without breaking character. Tananda surprised me, however. Instead of removing his head at the waist for breaking into her thought process, she turned her most dazzling smile on him.

  “Well, hi there!” she purred. “Say, I never did get a chance to thank you for giving me directions to the police station this morning.”

  Now, little sister’s smiles can be devastating to the nervous system of anyone of the male gender, and this individual was no exception.

  “Don’t mention it,” he flushed. “If there’s anything else I can do to be of assistance ...”

  “Oh, there is one teensy-tiny favor you could do for me.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered like mad, and the vendor melted visibly.

  “Name it.”

  “Wellll ... could you tell me where I could find a hardened criminal or five? You see, I’m new here and don’t know a soul I could ask.”

  I thought this was a little tacky and fully expected the vendor to refuse the information in a misdirected attempt to shelter the pretty girl from evil influences. The old boy seemed to take it in stride, however.

  “Criminals, eh?” he said, rubbing his chin. “Haven’t had much dealings with that sort for a while. When I did, though, they could usually be found down at the Suspended Sentence.”

  “The what?”

  “The Suspended Sentence. It’s a combination tavern/inn. The owner opened it after getting off a pretty sticky trial. It seems the judge wasn’t wrong in letting him go, since he’s gone straight, as far as I can tell, but there’s a bad element that hangs out there. I think they figure some of the good luck might rub off on them.”

  Tananda punched me lightly in the ribs and winked.

  “Well, that sounds like my next stop. Where’d you say this place was, old timer?”

  “Just a couple of blocks down the street there, then turn left up the alley. You can’t miss it.”

  “Hey, thanks. You’ve been a big help, really.”

  “Don’t mention it. Sure you wouldn’t like some juice?”

  “Maybe later. Right now I’m in a hurry.”

  The old man shook his head at her retreating back.

  “That’s the trouble with folks today. Everybody’s in such a hurry. Don’t you agree, big fella?”

  Again I found myself torn between entering a conversation with this likable chap and watching over little sister. As always, family loyalty won out.

  “Ahh ... Big Crunch in hurry too. Will talk with little man later.”

  “Sure. Anytime. I’m usually around.”

  He waved goodbye, and I waved back as I hurried after Tananda.

  Little sister seemed quite preoccupied when I caught up with her, so I deemed it wisest to keep silent as I fell in beside her. I assumed she was planning out her next move ... at least, until she spoke.

  “Tell me, big brother,” she said, without looking at me. “What do you think of Bunny?”

  Now Mums didn’t raise any stupid children. Just Tananda and me. It didn’t take any great mental gymnastics to figure out that perhaps this was not the best time to sing great praises of little sister’s rival. Still, I would feel less than truthful, not to mention a little disloyal, if I gave false testimony when queried directly.

  “Urn ... well, there�
�s no denying she’s attractive.”

  Tananda nodded her agreement.

  “... In a cheap, shallow sort of way, I suppose,” she acknowledged.

  “Of course,” I said carefully, “she does have a little problem with overachievement.”

  A little problem! Chumley, you have a positive talent for understatement. Bunny’s one of the pushiest bitches I know.”

  I was suddenly quite glad I had not verbalized my thought comparing Bunny’s overachievement problem with little sister’s. I somehow doubted Tananda was including herself in her inventory of pushy bitches. Still, there was one more point I wanted to test the ice with.

  “Then again, her performance may be influenced by her infatuation with Skeeve.”

  At this, Tananda lashed out with her hand at a signpost we were passing, which took on a noticeable tilt. Though she isn’t as strong as yours truly, little sister still packs a wallop ... especially when she’s mad.

  “That’s the part that really grinds me,” she snarled. “If she thinks she can just waltz in out of left field and take over Skeeve … I was about to say she’d have to do it over my dead body, but it might give her ideas. I don’t really want to have tasters munching on my food before I enjoy it. She’s got another think coming, is all I’ve got to say!”

  I gave her my longest innocent stare.

  “Why, little sister!” I said. “You sound positively jealous. I had no idea you entertained any romantic designs on Skeeve yourself.”

  That slowed her pace a tad.

  “Well, I don’t, really. It’s just that ... blast it, Chumley, we helped raise Skeeve and make him what he is today. You’d think he could do better than some primping gold digger from Mobdom.”

  “And just what is he? Hmmm?”

  Tananda shot me a look.

  “I’m not sure I follow you there, big brother.”

  “Take a good look at what it is we’ve raised. Right now Skeeve is one of the hottest, most successful magician/businessmen in the Bazaar. Who exactly do you expect him to take up with for female companionship? Massha? A scullery maid? Maybe one of the vendors or come-on girls?”

  “Well, no.”

  I had a full head of steam now. Tananda and I rarely talk seriously, and when we do it usually involves her dressing me down for some indiscretion or other. I wasn’t about to let her slip away on this one.

  “Of course Skeeve is going to start drawing attention from some pretty high-powered husband hunters. Whether we like it or not, the lads growing up ... and others are bound to notice, even if you haven’t. In all honesty, little sister, if you met him today for the first time instead of having known him for years, wouldn’t you find him a tempting morsel?”

  “He’s still a little young for me, but I see your point ... and I don’t tumble for just anybody.”

  “Since when?” I said, but I said it very quietly.

  Tananda gave me a hard look, and for a moment I thought she had heard me.

  “To hear you talk,” she frowned, “I’d almost think you were in favor of a Bunny/Skeeve match-up.”

  “Her or somebody like her. Face it, little sister, the lad isn’t likely to tie onto some nice, polite, ‘girl-next-door’ sort with his current life-style ... and if he managed to, the rest of us would eat her alive in crackerjack time.”

  Tananda’s pace slowed to almost a standstill.

  “You mean that hanging around with us is ruining Skeeve’s social life? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  I wanted to take her by her shoulders and shake her, but even my gentlest shakes can be rather violent and I didn’t want to get arrested for an attempted mugging Instead, I settled for facing her with my sternest expression.

  “Now, don’t go all maudlin on me. What I’m trying to say is that Skeeve is used to associating with heavy hitters, so it’s going to take a tougher-than-average lady fair to be comfortable around him, and vice versa. He’d be miserable with someone like that Luanna person.”

  “What’s wrong with Luanna?”

  I shrugged and resumed our stroll, forcing Tananda to keep up.

  “Oh, she’s pretty enough, I suppose. But she’s a small-time swindler who’s so shortsighted she’d sell him out at the first hint of trouble. In short, she’d be an anchor around his neck who would keep him from climbing and potentially drag him down. If we’re going to fix the lad up with a swindler, she should at least be a big-league swindler ... like, say, a certain someone we know who has the Mob for a dowry.”

  That at least got a laugh out of Tananda, and I knew we had weathered the storm.

  “Chumley, you’re incredible! And I thought women were manipulative matchmakers. I never realized it before, but you’re a bit of a snob, big brother.”

  “Think yew,” I said in my best clipped accent. “I accept that observation with pride ... when I consider the alternatives. I feel everyone would prefer to be snobs if they ever really had the choice.”

  “Why are we stopping?”

  “Well, if we’re done deciding Master Skeeve’s future for the moment, I believe we have a spot of business to attend to.”

  She looked where I was pointing and found we were indeed standing in front of a dubious-looking establishment, embellished with a faded sign which proclaimed it to be the Suspended Sentence. The windows that weren’t painted over were broken or gone completely, revealing a darkened interior. It might have been an abandoned building if it weren’t for the definite sounds of conversation and laughter issuing forth from within.

  Tananda started forward, and then halted in her tracks.

  “Wait a minute, big brother. What did you mean, ‘we’?”

  “Well, I thought that since I was here, I’d just ...”

  “Wrong,” she said firmly. “This is still my assignment, Chumley, and I’m quite capable of handling it by myself.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t breathe a word.”

  “No, you’d just loom over everybody with that snaggletoothed grin of yours and intimidate them into cooperating with me. Well, you can just wait out here while I go in alone. I’ll do my own intimidating, if you don’t mind.”

  This was exactly the sort of thing I was afraid of. “It would be less brutal if I were along, I argued weakly.”

  “Why, big brother,” she said with a wink. “A little brutality never bothered me. I thought you knew that.”

  Outflanked and outmaneuvered, I had no choice but to lean against the wall and watch as she marched into the tavern.

  “Oh, I know, little sister,” I sighed. “Believe me, I know.”

  Though forbidden to take active part in the proceedings, I was understandably curious and kept one ear cocked to try to ascertain what was happening from the sound effects. I didn’t have long to wait.

  The undercurrent of conversation we had noted earlier ceased abruptly as Tananda made her entrance. A pregnant pause followed, and then there was a murmured comment prompting a sharp bark of laughter.

  I closed my eyes.

  What happened next was so preordained as to be choreographed. I recognized little sister’s voice raised in query, answered by another laugh. Then came the unmistakable sound of furniture breaking. No, that’s not quite right. Actually, the noise indicated the furniture was being smashed, as in swung quickly and forcefully until an immovable object was encountered ... like a head, for example.

  The outcries were louder now, ranging from indignation to anger, punctuated by breaking glass and other such cacophonies. Years of hanging around with Tananda had trained my ear, so I amused myself by trying to catalogue the damage by its sound.

  That was a table going over ...

  ... Another chair...

  ... A mirror (wonder how she missed the glasses?) ...

  ... That was definitely a bone breaking ...

  ... Someone�
�s head hitting the bar, the side, I think ...

  ... There go the glasses ...

  A body hurtled through the plate-glass window next to me and bounced once on the sidewalk before coming to a halt in a limp heap ... a fairly good-sized one, too.

  Unless I was mistaken, little sister was resorting to magic in this brawl or else she wouldn’t have gotten that extra bounce on a horizontal throw. Either that or she was really annoyed! I debated whether or not to chide her for breaking our unwritten rules regarding no magic in barroom brawls, but decided to let it slide. On the off chance that she was simply overly perturbed, such comment would only invite retaliation, and Tananda can be quite a handful even when she isn’t steaming.

  By this time, the din inside had ceased and an ominous stillness prevailed. I figured it was jolly well time I checked things out, so I edged my way along the wall and peeked through the door.

  With the exception of one lonely chair, which seemed to have escaped unscathed, the place was a wreck with everything in splinters or tatters. Bodies, limp or moaning, were strewn casually about the wreckage, giving the overall effect of a battlefield after a hard fight... which, of course, it was.

  The only surprising element in the scene was Tananda. Instead of proudly surveying the carnage, as was her normal habit, she was leaning against the bar chatting quietly with the bartender. This puzzle was rapidly solved, as the individual in question glanced up and saw my rather distinctive features in the doorway.

  “Hey, Chumley! Come join us in a drink to my long-overdue remodeling.”

  Tananda glanced my way sharply, then nodded her approval.

  “Come on in, big brother. You’ll never guess who owns this dive.”

  “I think I just figured it out, actually,” I said, helping myself to a drink from a broken bottle that was perched on the bar. “Hello, Weasel. Bit of a ways from your normal prowl grounds, aren’t you?”

  “Not anymore,” he shrugged. “This is home sweet home these days. Can’t think of anyplace else I’ve been that would let me operate as a respectable businessman.”