Myth-Nomers & Im-Pervections

by Robert Asprin

  "Of course."

  I seemed to be losing him again.

  "It wasn't that I had forgotten about you, really," I pressed. "I just thought that as small as you are, you wouldn't eat much and we could probably share my order. Now I can see that that's rather demeaning to you, so if you'd like your own order..."

  "Sharing your meal will be fine. Okay? Can we drop the subject now?"

  Whatever was bothering the Djin, my efforts to change his mood were proving woefully inadequate. I debated letting it go for the moment, but decided against it. Letting things go until later was how the situation with Aahz had gotten into its current state.

  "Say...um...Kalvin?"

  "Now what?"

  "It's obvious that I've gotten you upset, and my trying to make amends is only making things worse. Now, it wasn't my intent to slight you in any way, but it seems to have happened anyway. If I can't make things better, can you at least tell me what it was I did so that I don't fall into the same trap again?"

  "The wine doesn't help."

  I nodded at Kalvin's terse response. He was right. The wine was hitting me harder than I had expected, making it difficult to focus on him and what he was saying.

  "It doesn't help...but that's not the whole problem," I said. "All alcohol does is amplify what's there already. It may make my irritating habits more irritating, but it isn't causing them."

  "True enough," he admitted grudgingly.

  "So lay it on me," I urged. "What is it about me that's so irritating? I try to be a nice guy, but lately it hasn't been working so well. First with Aahz, and now with you."

  The Djin hesitated before answering.

  "I haven't really known you all that long, Skeeve. Anything I could say would be a snap judgment."

  "So give me a snap judgment. I really want to..."

  "Your dinner. Sir!"

  The Pervect who had first seated me was hovering over my table again, this time with the waiter in tow. That latter notable was staggering under a huge covered platter which had steam rising from it enticingly.

  I was desperately interested in hearing what Kalvin had to say, but the sight of the platter reminded me that I was desperately hungry as well. Apparently the Djin sensed my dilemma.

  "Go ahead and eat, Skeeve," he said. "I can hold until you're done."

  Nodding my thanks, I turned my attention to the waiting Pervect.

  "It smells delicious," I managed, honestly surprised. "What is it?"

  "Wan uf ze House Specialties," he beamed, reaching for the tray cover. "From Klah!"

  The tray cover disappeared with a flourish, and I found myself face-to-face with someone else from my home dimension of Klah. Unfortunately, he wasn't serving the meal...he was the meal! Roasted, with a dead rat in his mouth as a garnish.

  I did the only sane thing that occurred to me.

  I fainted.

  Chapter Eight

  "There's never a cop around when you need one!"

  -A. Capone

  "SKEEVE!"

  The voice seemed to come from far away. "C'mon, Skeeve! Snap out of it! We've got trouble!" That caught my attention. I couldn't seem to get oriented, but if there was one thing I didn't need it was more trouble. More trouble? What...later! First, deal with whatever's going on now!

  I forced my eyes open.

  The scene which greeted me brought a lot of the situation back with a rush. I was in a restaurant...on the floor, to be specific...a Pervish waiter was hovering over me...and so was a policeman!

  At first I thought it was the same one we had encountered earlier, but it wasn't. The similarities were enough that they could have come out of the same litter...or hatching. They both had the same square jaw, broad shoulders and potbelly, not to mention a very hard glint in their otherwise bored-looking eyes.

  I struggled to sit upright, but wobbled as a wave of dizziness washed over me.

  "Steady, Skeeve! You're going to need your wits about you for this one!"

  Kalvin was hovering, his face-lined with concern.

  "W...what happened?" I said.

  Too late I remembered that I was the only one who could see or hear the Djin. Ready or not, I had just opened the conversation with the others.

  "It seems you fainted, boyo," the policeman supplied.

  "I theenk he just does not vant to pay for zee food he ordered."

  That was from the Pervect who had seated me, but his words brought it all back to me. The special dish from Klah!

  "He served me a roast Klahd on a platter!" I said, leveling a shaky but accusing finger at the Pervect.

  "Is that a fact now?"

  The policeman cocked an eye at the Pervect, who became quite agitated.

  "Non-sense! Eet is against the law to serve sentient beings without a li-cense. See for yourself, Offi-sair! Thees is a replica on-ley."

  Sure enough, he was right! The figure on the platter was actually constructed on pieces of unidentifiable cuts of meat with what looked like baked goods filling in the gaps. The rat seemed to be authentic, but I'll admit I didn't look close. The overall effect was, as I can testify, horrifyingly real.

  The policeman studied the dish closely before turning his attention to the waiter once more.

  "Don't ya think it was a trifle harsh, servin' the lad with what seemed to be one of his own?"

  "But he deed not look like thees when he came in! I on-ley served heem what he asked for...sometheeng from Klah!"

  That's when I became aware of the fact that my disguise spell was no longer on. I must have lost control of it when I fainted. When it disappeared, however, was not as important as the fact that it was gone! I was now seen by one and all as what I really was...a Klahd!

  The policeman had now turned his gaze on me and was studying me with what I felt was unhealthy interest.

  "Really, now," he said. "Perhaps you could be tellin' how it is you come to be wearin' a disguise in such a fine place? It couldn't be that you were plannin' to skip out without payin' fer yer meal, could it?"

  "No. It's just that..." I paused as a wave of dizziness passed. "Well, I've heard you can get better service and prices on Perv if folks don't know you're from off-dimension."

  "Bad answer, Skeeve," Kalvin hissed, but I had already figured that out.

  The policeman had gone several shades darker, and his head almost disappeared into his neck. Though his tone was still cordial, he seemed to be picking his words very carefully.

  "Are ya tryin' to tell me you think our whole dimension is full of clip joints and thieves? Is that what yer sayin'?"

  Too late I saw my error. Aahz had always seemed to be proud of the fact that Pervects were particularly good at turning a profit. It had never occurred to me that to some, this might sound like an insult.

  "Not at all," I said hastily. "I assumed it was like any other place...that the best prices and services were reserved for locals and visitors got what was left. I was just trying to take advantage of normal priorities, that's all."

  I thought it was a pretty good apology. The policeman, however, seemed unimpressed. Unsmiling, he produced a notepad and pencil.

  "Name?"

  His voice was almost flat and impersonal, but managed to still convey a degree of annoyance.

  "Look. I'll pay for the meal, if that's what the problem is."

  "I didn't ask if you were payin' for the meal. I asked you what your name is. Now are you going to tell me here, or should we be talkin', down at the precinct station?"

  Kalvin was suddenly hovering in front of me again.

  "Better tell him, Skeeve," he said, his tone matching his worried expression. "This cop seems to have an Eath up his Yongie."

  That one threw me.

  "A what up his what?"

  The policeman looked up from his notepad.

  "And how are ya spellin' that, now?"

  "Umm...forget it. Just put down 'Skeeve.' That's my name."

  His pencil moved briskly, and for a moment I thought I had
gotten away with my gaffe. No such luck.

  "...And what was that you were sayin' before?"

  "Oh, nothing. Just a nickname."

  Even to me, the explanation sounded weak. Kalvin groaned as the policeman gave me a hard look before scribbling a few more notes on his pad.

  "An alias, is it?" he murmured under his breath.

  This was sounding worse all the time.

  "But..."

  "Residence?"

  "The New Inn."

  My protests seemed to be only making things worse, so I resolved to answer any other questions he might have as simply and honestly as possible.

  "A hotel, eh?" The pencil was moving faster now. "And where would your regular residence be?"

  "The Bazaar at Deva."

  The policeman stopped writing. Raising his hand, he peered at me carefully.

  "Now I thought we had gotten this matter of disguises settled," he said, a bit too casually. "So tell me, Mr. Skeeve, are you a Klahd...or a Deveel masquerading as one?"

  "I'm a Klahd...really!"

  "...Who lives on Deva," the policeman finished grimly. "That's a pretty expensive place to be callin' home, boyo. Just what is it you do for a livin' that you can afford such an extravagant address...or to pay for expensive meals you aren't going to eat, for that matter?"

  "I uh, work for a corporation...M.Y.T.H. Inc.... It's a co-op of magik consultants."

  "Is that a fact?" The policeman's skepticism was open. "Tell me, boyo, what is it you do for them that they had to hire a Klahd instead of one of their local lads?"

  Maybe I was recovering from passing out, or maybe his sarcasm was getting to me, but I started to get a bit annoyed with the questions.

  "I'm the president and founder," I snapped, "and since I personally recruited the staff, they didn't have whole bunches to say about my qualifications."

  Actually, they had had a lot to say. Specifically, they were the ones who railroaded me into my current lofty position. Somehow, though, this didn't seem to be the time to try to point that out.

  "Really?" The policeman was still pushing, but he seemed a lot more respectful now. "It's clear that there's more to you than meets the eye, Mister Skeeve."

  "Steady, Skeeve," the Djin said quietly. "Let's not get too aggressive with the representatives of the local law."

  It was good advice, and I tried to get a handle on my temper.

  "You can check it out if you like," I said stiffly.

  "Oh, I intend to. Would you mind tellin' me what the president of a corporation from Deva is doin' in our fair dimension? Are you here on business?"

  "Well...I guess you could say that."

  "Good. Then I'm sure you won't mind givin' me the names of our citizens you're dealin' with."

  Too late I saw the trap. As a businessman, I should have local references. This may seem like a silly oversight to you, but you'll have to remember my background up to this point. Most of my ventures into the various dimensions have been more of the raider or rescue mission variety, so it never occurred to me there was another way of doing business. Of course, admitting this would probably do little toward improving the impression I was making on this stalwart of the law.

  I considered my alternatives. I considered trying to lie my way out of the predicament. Finally, I decided to give the truth one last try.

  "There isn't anyone specifically that I'm dealing with." I said carefully. "The fact of the matter is that I'm looking for someone."

  "Oh? Then you're hirin' for your corporation? Out to raid some of our local talent?"

  That didn't sound too good either.

  "It's not a recruiting mission, I assure you. I'm trying to find my...one of our employees."

  The policeman straightened a bit, looking up from his notebook once more.

  "Now, that's a different matter entirely," he said. "Have you been by a station to fill out a missing person report?"

  I tried to imagine Aahz's reaction if I had the police pick him up. Mercifully, my mind blocked the image.

  "Are you kidding? I mean...no, I haven't."

  "...Or do you think you're better at locatin' folks than the police are?"

  I was getting desperate. It seemed that no matter what I said, it was getting twisted into the worst possible interpretation.

  "He's not really missing. Look, officer, I had a falling out with my old partner, who happens to also be the co-founder of the corporation and a Pervect. He left in a huff, presumably to return here to Perv. All I want to do is locate him and try to convince him to come back to the company, or at least make amends so we can part on more agreeable terms. In short, while it's business related, it's more of a personal matter."

  The policeman listened intently until I had finished.

  "Well, why didn't you say so in the first place, lad?" he scowled, flipping his notebook shut. "I'll have you know my time's too valuable to be wastin' chattin' with everybody who wants to tell me his life story."

  "Nice going, Skeeve!" Kalvin winked, flashing me a high sign. "I think we're off the hook."

  I ignored him. The policeman's comment about wasting his time had reignited my irritation. After all, he had been the one who had prolonged the interrogation.

  "Just a moment," I said, as he started to turn away. "Does this mean you won't be running that check on me?"

  "Skeeve!" the Djin warned, but it was too late.

  "Is there any reason I shouldn't?" the policeman said, turning back to me again.

  "It's just that you've taken up so much of your valuable time asking questions about a simple fainting, I'd hate to see you waste any more."

  "Now don't go tryin' to tell me how to do my job. Mister Skeeve," he snarled, pushing his face close to mine. "Per yer information, I'm not so sure this is as simple as you try to cut it out to be."

  "It isn't?"

  That last snappy response of mine was sort of squeaked out. I was suddenly aware that I was not as far out of the woods as I had believed.

  "No, it isn't. We have what seems to be a minor disturbance in a public restaurant, only the person at the center of it turns out to be travelin' in disguise. What's more, he's from off-dimension and used to usin' aliases, and even though he claims to be an honest businessman, there doesn't seem to be anyone locally who can vouch for him, or any immediate way of confirmin' his story. Now doesn't that strike you as bein' a little suspicious?"

  "Well, if you put it that way..."

  "I do! However, as I was sayin', we're pretty busy down at the station, and for all yer jabberin' you seem harmless enough, so I don't see much point to pursuin' this further. Just remember, I've got you down in my book, boyo, and if there's any trouble you'll find I'm not so understandin' next time!"

  With that, he turned on his heel ,and marched out of the restaurant.

  "That was close," Kalvin whistled. "You shouldn't have mouthed off that last time."

  I had arrived at much the same conclusion, but nodded my agreement anyway.

  The waiter was still hovering about, so I signaled him for our check. The last thing I needed to do now would be to forget and try to walk out without paying.

  "So where do we go from here?" the Djin asked.

  "I think we'll settle up here and head back to the hotel for some sleep. Two run-ins with the police in one day is about all the excitement I can handle."

  "But you haven't eaten anything."

  "I'll do it tomorrow. Like I said, I don't relish the thought of risking another brush with the law...even accidentally."

  Despite his advice to go easy with the police, the Djin seemed unconcerned.

  "Don't worry. So far it's been just talk. I mean, what can they do to you? There's no law against being polite on the sidewalk or fainting in a restaurant."

  "They could run that check on me. I'm not wild about having the police poking around in my affairs."

  The Djin gave me a funny look.

  "So what if they do? I mean, it's annoying, but nothing to worry
about. It's not like you have a criminal record or have connections with organized crime or anything."

  I thought about Don Bruce and the Mob. Suddenly, my work with them didn't seem as harmless as it had when I first agreed to take the position as the Mob's representative on Deva. Fortunately, no one on Deva except my own crew was aware of it, and they weren't likely to talk. Still, with the way my luck had been running lately, there was no point in risking a police check. Also, I could see no point in worrying Kalvin by letting him know what kind of a powder keg I might be sitting on.

  Chapter Nine

  "...You gotta start somewhere."

  -S. McDuck

  I HAD PLANNED to sleep late the next morning. I mean, I was eager to locate Aahz and all that, but it was rare that I had the opportunity to lounge in bed a couple extra hours. Business had been brisk enough that I usually headed into the offices early to try to get some work done before the daily parade of questions and problems started. Even when I did decide to try to sleep in, the others would be up and about, so I felt pressured to rise and join in for fear I might be excluded from an important or interesting conversation. Consequently, now that I had a chance to laze about I fully intended to take advantage of it. Besides, between the restaurant and the police it had been a rough night.

  Unfortunately, it seemed the rest of the world had different ideas about my sleeping habits.

  I had had trouble dozing off anyway, what with the unaccustomed traffic noise and all. When I did finally manage to get to sleep, it seemed I had barely closed my eyes when there was a brisk knocking at the door of my room.

  "Wazzit?" I called, struggling to get my eyes open far enough to navigate.

  In response, the door opened and the bellhop who had brought my luggage up the day before came bustling into the room.

  "Sorry to bother you so early, Mr. Skeeve, but there's..."

  He stopped abruptly and peered around the room. I was still trying to figure out what he was looking for when he returned his attention to me once more.

  "Mr. Skeeve?" he said again, his voice as hesitant as his manner.

  "Yes?" I responded, trying to hold my annoyance in check. "You had something to tell me? Something I assume couldn't wait until a decent hour?"