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by Robert Asprin


  “Well, I’ve never been one to complain about clearing a profit,” Aahz said, flashing one of his ear-to-ear displays of teeth. “Even when it means acquiring a casino we neither want nor need.”

  This was definitely sounding like a lecture shaping up instead of a testimonial as to what a fine job I had been doing. While I could make time for a chat and would always take time for “Atta boys”, I was in no mood to have my shortcomings expounded upon.

  “What’s done is done, and hindsight is academic,” I said briskly, cutting short the casino conversation. “What was it you wanted to see me about?”

  I almost started fidgeting with the paper on my desk to press the point home that I was busy, but remembered in time that they were the casino financial reports ... definitely not the way to draw conversation away from that particular subject.

  “Oh, nothing much,” Aahz shrugged. “I was just heading out on a little assignment and thought you might want to tag along.”

  “An assignment? I haven’t given you an assignment.”

  I regretted the words as soon as I said them. Not only did they sound bureaucratic, they underscored the fact that I hadn’t been finding any work for Aahz, despite our heavy work load.

  My old mentor never batted an eye at the faux pas.

  “It’s not really an assignment. More a busman’s holiday. I was going to do a little work on my own time. A favor for a friend who can’t afford our normal fees.”

  I should have been suspicious right then. If I’m at all moneygrubbing, it rubbed off from Aahz during our association. Anytime Aahz starts talking about giving something away that we could sell, like our time, I should know there’s something afoot.

  “Gee, Aahz, I don’t think I could take the time. I’ve been really busy.”

  “... Levitating pencils and checking for embezzlement of funds that are all gravy anyway?”

  His attempt at an innocent smile was short enough of the mark to be a deliberate botch.

  “C’mon, Aahz. That’s not fair. I have been working hard. I just need a break once in a while. That’s all.”

  “My point precisely,” my partner said, springing his trap. “It’s about time you got out of this office and out in the field before you become a permanent part of that chair. You don’t want to get too far out of touch with the troops, you know, and this little chore is just the thing to remind you what it’s like to be on assignment.”

  I could feel myself being outflanked the longer he talked. In desperation, I held up a hand.

  “All right, all right. Tell me about it. Who is this friend of yours?”

  “Actually, he’s more of an acquaintance. You know him too. Remember Quigley?”

  “Quigley? Demon hunter turned magician? That Quigley?”

  Aahz nodded vigorously.

  “That’s the one. It seems he’s got a problem he’s not up to handling himself ... which isn’t surprising, somehow. I thought you might be interested in lending a hand, since we were the ones who set him up for it.”

  Check and mate.

  “Okay, Aahz,” I said, looking mournfully at the unfinished work on my desk. “Just let me clear a few things with Bunny, and I’ll be right with you.”

  Aahz’s Tale

  JAHK HADN’T CHANGED much from our last visit, but then these off-the-beaten-track dimensions seldom do. We were traveling in disguise, which we Pervects have gotten into the habit of doing when visiting a dimension we’ve been to before, and the Kid picked up the trick from me. You see, contrary to popular belief, Pervects don’t like to fight all the time, and the second time through a dimension we usually end up in a fight with anyone who recognizes us and figures they’re better prepared than the first meeting. This only confirms the belief we hold on Perv that the rest of the dimensions are antisocial and we’d best swing first to get the surprise advantage, not to mention doing our best to discourage off-dimension visitors whenever possible. Our dimension is unpleasant enough without having strange riffraff drifting through stirring up trouble.

  Of course, being a Pervect wasn’t the only reason certain citizens of Jahk might want to hang our scalps out to dry. The last time we passed through here, we stirred things up pretty well with our surprise entry into their Big Game. As old and cynical as I may be, I have to smile when I think of the havoc we wreaked then.

  “How long do you think this problem of Quigley’s is going to take, Aahz?” Skeeve said, breaking into my wandering thoughts.

  “I really don’t know,” I shrugged. “I imagine we’ll have a better idea once he fills us in on exactly what the problem is.”

  The Kid stopped in his tracks and scowled at me.

  “You mean you agreed to help without knowing what you were volunteering for? Then how did you know we set him up for it?”

  Even though Skeeve’s proved himself many times over to be a fast learner, there are still times when he can be dense to the point of being exasperating.

  “What was Quigley doing when we first met him?”

  “He was a demon hunter. Why?”

  “And what’s he doing now?

  “Last thing we heard, he was holding down a job as Court Magician for Ta-hoe.”

  “Now what do you suppose prompted him to take up magik for a living instead of sword-swinging?”

  “Oh.”

  He looked a bit crestfallen for a few moments but rallied back gamely.

  “I still think you should have found out what the problem was. Once we’re in there, there’s no telling how long it’s going to take, and I can’t be away from the office too long. I’m really busy these days.”

  “Well, then,” I smiled, “we should probably be hooking up with him ASAP instead of standing here in the street arguing.”

  The Kid rolled his eyes melodramatically and set off marching down the road again.

  Skeeve has changed a lot in the years I’ve worked with him. When we first met, he was a kid. Now, he’s a young man ... even though I still tend to think of him as “the Kid.” Old habits die hard. He’s grown from a gangly boy into a youth who has to shave ... even though it’s only necessary occasionally, so he tends to forget until Bunny reminds him. Even more astonishing is how much he’s gained in confidence and poise to a point where he’s acquired a certain amount of style. All in all, it’s been interesting watching my young charge develop over the last few years. I just wish I felt better about the directions he’s been developing in.

  You see, Skeeve’s most endearing trademark has always been that he cared for people ... really cared. Whether it was his feeling for Garkin when his old teacher died, even though my colleague never really gave the Kid a fair shake as a student, or the lengths he went to to bolster Ajax’s sagging ego when the old Archer was doubting his own value in a fight, Skeeve has always had an unerring ability to see the good in people and act accordingly. That’s a lot of why I stuck around to work with him ... as much to learn as to teach.

  Lately, however, things seem to be changing. Ever since he has taken the slot as president of our corporation, Skeeve seems to be worrying more and more about business and less and less about people. The others may not have noticed it. Bunny and Tananda have been so busy trying to one-up each other they wouldn’t notice if a brass band marched through the room, and Chumley’s had his hands full just keeping them apart. Massha and the hoods are big on blind loyalty. They’d probably follow Skeeve right off a cliff without thinking twice or asking question one. Then again, they haven’t known him as long or as well as I have and may simply think his current behavior is normal. To me, however, it represents a major change.

  This whole casino purchase thing is just one example. The Skeeve I’ve known would have insisted that Hysterium know all the facts before signing the contract, or at least given him a more generous price for his efforts. Instead, we were treated to a display of opportunis
m that would make a hardened Deveel haggler envious.

  Now, you all know that I have nothing against making a profit, especially a sinfully large one ... but that’s me. Skeeve is supposed to be the counterbalancing humanitarian. While I’ve been learning about people from him, I’m afraid he’s been absorbing the wrong lessons from me ... or the right one too well.

  Anyway, that’s why I didn’t chuck Quigley’s letter in the wastebasket when it got forwarded to us at the Bazaar. I figured it would give me some time alone with Skeeve to find out whether I was just being a Nervous Nelly, or if there was really something to worry about. So far, I was leaning toward the latter.

  Fortunately, Quigley hadn’t moved. As impatient as the Kid was being, I was afraid he’d back out of the whole deal if we had to take extra time just to run him down. Our knock was answered with a cautious eye appearing at the crack of the door as it opened slightly.

  “Oh! I was hoping ... that is, I was expecting ... Can I help you gentlemen?”

  We had seen the “old man” disguise before, so there was no doubt that it was really Quigley peering out at us.

  “It’s us, Quigley,” the Kid said briskly before I could even say ‘Hi.’ “Will you let us in, or should we just go home?”

  “Skeeve? Oh, thank goodness. Certainly ... come right in.”

  I personally thought Skeeve was being a bit abrupt, and Quigley’s fawning over him wasn’t going to improve his manners at all.

  “Sorry for the reception,” the magician said, herding us inside, “but I was afraid it might be one of my creditors.”

  As he closed the door, Quigley let his disguise spell drop ... too much effort to maintain, I guess. Viewing his true appearance, I was slightly shocked.

  The years had not been kind to our old ally. There were strain marks etched deeply into his face that hadn’t been there when we were here before. The place itself seemed the worse for wear. The walls needed painting badly ... or at least washing, and the furnishings showed signs of being repaired instead of replaced.

  “This place is a dump!” Skeeve observed with his newfound lack of diplomacy. “Really, Quigley. If you won’t think of yourself, think of the profession. How are people supposed to respect magicians if they see one of them living like this?”

  “Ease up, partner,” I said softly. “We can’t all own casinos. Some of us have had to live in broken-down shacks in the forest ... or even sleep under trees on the open road.”

  That earned me a sharp glance, but Quigley intervened.

  “No, Skeeve’s right. All I can say is that I’ve tried. That’s part of what’s gotten me into the mess I’m in. I’ve overextended my credit trying to keep up a good front, and now it’s catching up with me.”

  “Gee, Quigley, if that’s your only problem we can take care of it in no time at all. We can arrange a quick consolidation loan to get the wolves off your back ... with a slight interest charge, of course. Right, Aahz?”

  The possibility of a fast resolution of the problem seemed to brighten Skeeve’s mood immensely. I was almost tempted to go along with it, but I had the feeling there was more to the situation than was meeting the eye.

  “I dunno, Skeeve. I think I’d like to hear a little more about exactly what the problem is, if it’s all right with you.”

  “C’mon, Aahz. Let’s just settle his accounts and split. If we hurry, we can be back at the office by lunch.”

  While I had tried to be patient, even promised myself to be, his wheedling tones finally got to me.

  “Look, Kid,” I said, using the phrase deliberately. “If you’re so all-fired eager to get back, then go! I’m going to give a shot at trying to solve the real problem here, if I can ever find out what it is, maybe even without just throwing money at it. Okay?”

  It was a cheap shot, but Skeeve had been asking for it. For a minute I thought he was going to take me up on my suggestion and leave, but instead he sank onto a sofa and sulked. Terrific. I turned my back on him and switched my attention to Quigley.

  It seemed funny after all these years to take the lead in what was essentially a “people” situation. Usually I handled the tactics ... okay, and occasionally the money ... and left the people-handling to Skeeve. It was his part of the partnership to keep my abrasive personality from alienating too many people, particularly our friends. With him off in a blue funk, however, the task fell to me, and I was badly out of practice. Heck, I’ll be honest; I was never in practice for this sort of thing. Ironically, I found myself trying to think of what Skeeve would say and do at a time like this.

  “So, Quigley,” I said, trying to smile warmly, “what exactly seems to be the problem?”

  He fidgeted uncomfortably.

  “Well, it’s a long story. I ... I’m not sure where to begin.”

  I suddenly remembered that non-Pervects tend to get nervous at the sight of Pervect teeth and dumped the smile.

  “Why don’t you start at the beginning? How come you’re having money problems? You seemed to be doing all right the last time we were here.”

  “That’s when it started,” he sighed, “the last time you were here. Remember how they used to settle who was going to be the government around here? With the Big Game?”

  Actually I hadn’t thought about it for years, but it was starting to come back to me as he talked.

  “Uh-huh. The Big Game between Ta-hoe and Vey-gus each year would decide who would get the Trophy and be the capital for the next year.”

  Quigley nodded vaguely.

  “Right. Well, that’s all changed now. When you guys won the game and took off with the Trophy, it stood the whole five-hundred-year old system on its ear. For a while there was a faction that maintained that since you had the Trophy in Possiltum, that’s where the capital should be for a year. Fortunately, wiser heads won out.”

  It was nice to know that there were some hassles that passed us by. I noticed that in spite of himself, Skeeve had perked up and was listening as Quigley continued.

  “What they finally decided was that a Common Council should run the government. The plan was put into action with equal representation from both city-states, and for the first time in five hundred years the government of the dimension stabilized.”

  It actually sounded like some good had come out of our madcap caper. That made me feel kind of good. Still ...

  “I don’t get it, Quigley. How is that a problem?”

  The magician gave a wry smirk.

  “Think about it, Aahz. With the feud over between the two city-states, there was no reason to maintain two magicians. It was decided that one would do just fine.”

  “Whoops,” I said.

  “‘Whoops’ is right. Massha was their first choice. She had served as magician for both city-states at one time or another, and, frankly, they were more impressed with her than with me ... especially after I let their hostage demon escape at the Big Game. When they went to tell her, though, she had disappeared. That left them with me.”

  I found myself wondering if Massha had signed on as Skeeve’s apprentice before or after she knew about the organizational change and Quigley getting the boot.

  “She’s working with us over on Deva,” Skeeve commented, finally getting drawn into the conversation.

  “Really? Well, I suppose it makes sense. After you’ve gone as far as you can go on the local level, it’s only natural to graduate into the big time.”

  “I still don’t see how you ended up behind the eight ball financially,” I said, trying to steer the conversation back on course.

  Quigley made a face.

  “It’s my contract. I ended up having to take a substantial pay cut under the new situation. My salary before was adequate, but nothing to cheer about. Now ...”

  His voice trailed off.

  “I don’t get it,” Skeeve said. “How can you be maki
ng less money for serving two city-states than you made working for one?”

  “Like I said, it’s my contract. There are clauses in there I didn’t even know about until the council hit me with them.”

  “What kind of clauses?” I frowned.

  “Well, that the employer has the right to set my pay scale is the biggest one I remember. ‘According to the need of the community,’ and they pointed out that with no feud, my workload, and therefore my pay, should be reduced accordingly. Then there’s the ‘No Quit’ clause ...”

  “The what?”

  “The ‘No Quit’ clause. In short, it says that they can fire me, but I can’t quit for the duration of my contract. If I leave, I have to pay my replacement, ‘sub-contractor’ I think they call it, myself ... even if they pay him more than they were paying me. That’s why I’m stuck here. I can’t afford to quit. By the time I got done deducting someone else’s wages out of whatever I was earning on my new job, I’d be making even less than I am now. I can’t believe I could land a position making more than double what I’m currently earning. Not with my track record.”

  For a moment I thought Skeeve was going to offer him a position with our company, but instead he groaned and hid his face in his hands.

  “Quigley! How could you sign a contract with those kind of terms in it? Heck, how could you sign any contract without knowing for sure what was in it?”

  “Frankly, I was so happy to find work at all I didn’t think to ask many questions.”

  “... There’s also the minor fact,” I put in, “that when he was getting started in this game, he was all alone. He didn’t have a teacher or a bunch of friends to look over his contracts or warn him off bad deals.”

  I t was getting harder and harder to keep the Kid from getting too intolerant of other people’s mistakes. Even that not-too-subtle admonishment only had partial success.

  “Well, he could have asked me,” he grumbled. “I could have at least spotted the major gaffes.”

 

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