"Why?"
"Excuse me?"
"Why didn't you open the door and come in when I buzzed you through?"
"Oh, is that what that was? I'm sorry, I didn't know. Could you...buzz me through again?"
"What's the matter, haven't you ever seen a remote lock before?"
I suppose it was meant as a rhetorical question, but my annoyance at being embarrassed prompted me to answer.
"As a matter of fact, I haven't. I'm just visiting this dimension. We don't have anything like it back on Klah."
There was a long silence, long enough for me to wonder if it had been a mistake to admit I was from off-dimension. The buzzer went off, somehow catching me unaware again even though I had been expecting it.
This time, I managed to get the door open before the buzzing stopped, and stepped through into the vestibule. The lighting was dim, and got downright dark after I let the door shut. I started to open it again to get my bearings, but pulled my hand back at the last minute. It might set off an alarm somewhere, and if there was one thing I didn't need right now it was more trouble.
Slowly my eyes adjusted to the shadowy dimness, and I could make out a narrow hall with an even narrower flight of stairs which vanished into the gloom above. "Come right up" she had said, so I took her literally and started up the stairs...hoping all the while I was right.
After ascending several flights, this hope was becoming fervent. There was no sign of habitation on any of the halls I passed, and the way the stairs creaked and groaned under me, I wasn't at all sure I wasn't heading into a condemned area of the building.
Just when I was about to yield to my fears and retreat to the ground floor, the stairs ended. The apartment I was looking for was right across the hall from where I stood, so I had little choice but to proceed. Raising my hand, I knocked gently, afraid that anything more violent might trigger a catastrophic chain reaction.
"Come in! It's open!"
Summoning my courage, I let myself in.
The place was both tiny and jammed with clutter. I had the impression one could reach out one's arms and touch the opposing walls simultaneously. In fact, I had to fight against the impulse to do exactly that, as the walls and their contents appeared to be on the brink of caving in. I think it was then I discovered that I was mildly claustrophobic.
"So you're a friend of that no-account Aahzmandius. I knew he'd come to no good, but I never dreamed he'd sink so low as to hang around with a Klahd."
This last was uttered by what had to be Aahz's mother...it had to be because she was the only person in the room besides myself! My eye had passed over her at first, she was so much a part of the apartment, but once she drew my attention, she seemed to dominate the entire environ...if not the whole dimension.
Remember when I said that Pookie was one of two types of females I had noted on Perv? Well, Aahz's mother was the other type. While Pookie was sleek and muscular in an almost serpentine way, the figure before me resembled nothing so much as a huge toad...a green, scaly, reptilian toad. (I have since had it pointed out to me that toads are amphibians and not reptiles, but at the time that's what she made me think of.)
She was dressed in a baggy housecoat which made her seem even more bloated than she really was. The low, stuffed chair she was sitting in was almost obscured from view by her bulk, which seemed to swell over the sides of the chair and flow onto the mottled carpet. There was a tangle of white string on her lap which she jabbed at viciously with a small, barbed stick she was holding. At first, it gave the illusion she was torturing string, but then I noticed there were similar masses draped over nearly every available flat surface in the apartment, and concluded that she was involved in some kind of craft project, the nature of which was beyond my knowledge or appreciation.
"Good afternoon, Mrs...."
"Call me Duchess," she snapped. "Everyone does. Don't know why, though...haven't had royalty on this dimension for generations. Beheaded them all and divvied up their property...those were the days!"
She smacked her lips at the memory, though of royalty or beheadings I wasn't sure, and pointed vaguely at the far wall. I looked, half expecting to see a head mounted on a plaque, then realized she was pointing at a faded picture hanging there. I also realized I couldn't make it out through the dust and grime on its surface.
"It's the maid's day off," the Duchess said sharply, noting my expression. " Can't get decent work out of domestics since they outlawed flogging!"
I have seldom heard such an obvious lie...about the maid, I mean, not the flogging. The cobwebs, dust, and litter which were prevalent everywhere could not have accumulated in a day...or in a year for that matter. The shelves and cases throughout the room were jammed with the tackiest collection of bric-a-brac and dust-catchers it had ever been my misfortune to behold, and every dust-catcher had caught its capacity and more. I had no idea why the Duchess felt it necessary to imply she had servants when she obviously had little regard for me, but there was no point in letting her know I didn't believe her.
"Yes. Well...Duchess, I've been trying to locate your son, Aahz...mandius, and was hoping you might have some information as to his whereabouts."
"Aahzmandius? That wastrel?" Her narrow yellow eyes seemed to glow angrily. "If I had any idea where he was, do you think I'd be sitting here?"
"Wastrel?"
I was starting to wonder if we were talking about the same Aahz.
"What would you call it?" she snapped. "He hasn't sent me a cent since he left school. That means he's spending so much on himself there's nothing left to share with the family that nurtured him and raised him and made him what he is today. How does he expect me to maintain the lifestyle expected of our family, much less keep up my investing, if he doesn't send me any money?"
"Investing?" I said, the light starting to dawn.
"Of course. I've been doing all the investing for our family since my husband passed on. I was just starting to get the hang of it when Aahzmandius quit school and disappeared without a cent...I mean a trace. I'm sure that if I just had a few million more to work with I'd get it right this time."
"I see."
"Say, you wouldn't by any chance have access to some venture capital, would you? I could invest it for you and we could split the profits...except it's best to put your money to work by reinvesting it as soon as you get it."
I was suddenly very aware of the weight of the checkbook in my pocket. The conversation was taking a decidedly uncomfortable turn.
"Um...actually I'm a little short right now," I hedged. "In fact, I was looking for...Aahzmandius because he owes me money."
"Well, don't you have any friends you could borrow a million or two from?"
"Not really. They're all as poor as I am. In fact, I've got to go now. Duchess. I've got a cab waiting downstairs and every minute I'm here is costing more than you'd imagine."
I suppose I should have been despairing as Edvick drove Pookie and me back to the hotel. My last hope for finding Aahz was gone. Now that tracking him down through the magicians had proved to be futile, I had no idea how to locate him other than knocking on every door in the dimension...and I just didn't have the energy to attempt that even if I had the time. The mission was a bust, and there was nothing to do but pay off Edvick and Pookie, check out of the hotel, and figure out how to signal Massha to pick me up and take me to Klah. I hoped that simply removing the ring she had given me would bring her running, but I wasn't sure. Maybe I would be more effective at stopping Queen Hemlock than I had been in finding Aahz. I should have been despairing as I wrote out the checks for my driver and bodyguard in preparation for our parting, but I wasn't. Instead, I found myself thinking about the Duchess.
My first reaction to her was that she was a crazy old lady trying to live in the past by maintaining an illusion of wealth that nobody believed except her. Ideally, someone who cared should give her a stern talking to and try to bring her back into contact with reality so she could start adjusting to what wa
s instead of what had been or should be. I guess, on reflection, I found her situation to be more sad than irritating or contemptible.
Then, somehow, my thoughts began wandering from her case to my own. Was I as guilty as she was of trying to run my life on was and should be instead of accepting and dealing with reality? I had been an untraveled, untrained youth, and that self-image still haunted me in everything I said and did. I felt I should be a flawless businessman and manager, and treated both myself and others rather harshly pursuing that goal. What was my reality!
Even before coming to Perv, many of my associates, including Aahz, had tried to convince me I was something more than I felt I was. Time and time again, I had discounted their words, assuming they were either trying to be nice to 'the Kid', or, in some cases, trying to badger me into growing up faster than I was ready to.
Well, maybe it was time I decided I was ready to grow up, mentally at least. The physical part would take care of itself. One by one, I started knocking down the excuses that had been my protective wall for so long.
Okay, I was young and inexperienced. So what? "Inexperienced" wasn't the same as "stupid." There was no reason to expect myself to be adept or even familiar with situations and concepts I had never encountered before. It was crucial not to dwell on my shortcomings. What was important was that I was learning, and learning fast...Fast enough that even my critics and enemies showed a certain degree of grudging admiration for what I was. They, like the Pervects I had encountered on this mission, didn't care what I didn't know last year or what I still had to learn, they reacted to what I was now. Shouldn't I be doing the same thing?
Speaking of 'learning', I had always been self-conscious about what I didn't know, yet I planned to keep on learning my whole life. I always figured that if I ever stopped learning, it would either mean that I had closed my mind, or that I was dead. Putting those two thoughts together, it occurred to me that in being ashamed of what I didn't know, I was effectively apologizing for being alive! Of course there were things I didn't know! So what? That didn't make me an outsider or a freak, it gave me something in common with everyone else who was alive. Instead of wasting my energy bemoaning what I didn't know, I should be using what I did know to expand my own horizons.
The phrase "Today is the first day of the rest of your life" was almost a cliche across the dimensions. It occurred to me that a better phrasing would be "Your whole life to date has been training for right now!" The question wasn't what I had or didn't have so much as what I was going to do with it!
I was still examining this concept when we pulled up to the curb in front of the hotel.
"Here we are, Skeeve," Edvick said, swiveling around in his seat. "Are you sure you aren't going to need me anymore?"
"There's no point," I sighed, passing him his check. "I've run out of ideas and time. I'd like to thank you for your help, though. You've been much more than a driver and guide to me during my stay here. I've added a little extra onto the check as a bit more tangible expression of my gratitude."
Actually I had added a lot more onto it. The cabbie glanced at the figure and beamed happily.
"Hey, thanks, Skeeve. I'm sorry you couldn't find your friend."
"That's the way it goes sometimes," I shrugged. "Take care of yourself, Edvick. If you ever make it to Deva, look me up and I'll show you around my dimension for a change."
"I just might take you up on that," the cabbie waved as I let myself out onto the street.
Pookie had popped out of the taxi as soon as we stopped, so it seemed I was going to have to settle accounts with her out in the open.
"Pookie, I..."
"Heads up, Skeeve," she murmured, not looking at me. "I think we've got problems."
I followed her gaze with my eyes. Two uniformed policemen were bracketing the door to my hotel. At the sight of me, they started forward with expressions of grim determination on their faces.
Chapter Nineteen
"I am not a crook!"
-Any Crook
"ZAT EES HEEM! Ze third from ze right!"
Even with the floodlights full in my face, I had no difficulty recognizing the voice which floated up to me from the unseen area in the room beyond the lights. It was the waiter I had clashed with the first night I was on Perv. The one who claimed I had tried to avoid paying for my meal by fainting.
I wasn't surprised by his ability to identify me in the lineup. First of all, I had no reason to suspect his powers of observation and recall were lacking. More important, of all the individuals in the line up, I was the only one who wasn't a Pervect. What's more, all the others were uniformed policemen! Nothing like a nice, impartial setup, and this was just that...nothing like a nice, impartial setup.
What did surprise me was that I didn't seem to be the least bit upset by the situation. Usually, in a crisis like this, I would either be extremely upset or too angry to care. This time, however, I simply felt a bit bemused. In fact, I felt so relaxed and in control of myself and the situation, I decided to have a bit of fun with it...just to break the monotony.
"Look again, sir. Are you absolutely sure?"
I knew that voice, too. It was the captain who had given J.R. and me so much grief the last time I had the pleasure of enjoying police hospitality. Before the waiter could respond, I used my disguise spell and switched places with the policeman standing next to me.
"I am sure. He ees the third...no, the second from the right!"
"What?"
Resisting the urge to grin, I went to work again, this time changing everyone in the lineup so they were identical images of me.
"But...but thees ees imposs-ible!"
"MISTER Skeeve. If you don't mind?"
"Excuse me, captain?" I said innocently.
"We'd appreciate it a lot if you'd quit playing games with the witnesses!"
"That makes us even," I smiled. "I'd appreciate it if you quit playing games with me! However, I think I've made my point."
I let the disguise spell drop, leaving the policemen in the lineup to glare suspiciously at each other as well as at me.
"What point is that?"
"That this whole lineup thing is silly. We'll ignore the bit with putting all of your colleagues up here with me for the moment and assume you were playing it straight. My point is that I'm not the only one who knows how to use a disguise spell. Anyone who's laid eyes on me or seen a picture of me could use a disguise spell well enough to fool the average witness. That invalidates the lineup identification as evidence. All you've established is that someone with access to my image has been seen by the witness...not that I personally, was anywhere near him."
There was a long silence beyond the lights.
"You're denying having had any contact with the witness? I take "it you recognize his voice."
"That's a rather transparent catch question. Captain," I laughed. "If I admit to recognizing his voice, then at the same time I'm admitting to having had contact with him. Right?"
I was starting to actually enjoy myself.
"As a matter of fact, I'm willing to admit I've had dealings with your witness there. Also with the doorman and bellhop, as well as the other people you've dragged in to identify me. I was just questioning the validity of your procedure. It seems to me that you're putting yourself and everyone else through a lot of trouble that, by itself, won't yield any usable results. If you want information about me and my movements, why don't you just ask me directly instead of going through all this foolishness?"
The floodlights went out suddenly, leaving me even more blinded than when they had been on.
"All right. Mister Skeeve. We'll try it your way. If you'll be so good as to follow me down to one of our 'interview' rooms?"
Even "trying it my way" was more hassle than I expected or liked. True, I was out from in front of the floodlights, but there were enough people crowded into the small "interview room" to make me feel like I was still on exhibition.
"Really, Captain," I said, sweepin
g the small crowd with my eyes. "Is all this really necessary?"
"As a matter of fact, it is," he retorted. "I want to have witnesses to everything you say as well as a transcript of our little conversation. I suppose I should inform you that anything you say can and may be used against you in court. What's more, you're entitled to an attorney for advice during this questioning, either one of your choice or one of those on call to the court. Now, do we continue or shall we wait for a legal advisor?"
My feeling of control dimmed a bit. Somehow, this seemed much more serious than my last visit.
"Am I being charged with anything?"
"Not yet," the captain said. "We'll see how the questioning goes."
I had been thinking of trying to get in touch with Shai-ster, one of the Mob's lawyers. It occurred to me, however, that just having access to him might damage the image I was attempting to project of an innocent, injured citizen.
"Then I'll give the questioning a shot on my own," I said. "I may holler for legal help if it gets too rough, though."
"Suit yourself," the policeman shrugged, picking up the sheaf of papers he had brought in with him.
Something in his manner made me think I had just made the wrong choice in not insisting on having a lawyer. Nervously, I began to chatter, fishing for reassurance that things really weren't as bad as they were starting to seem.
"Actually, Captain, I'm a little surprised that I'm here. I thought we had covered everything pretty well my last visit."
The police who had picked me up in front of my hotel and delivered me to the station had been extremely tight-lipped. Beyond the simple statement that "The captain wants to see you," they hadn't given the slightest indication of why I was being pulled in.
"Oh, the IDs were just to confirm we were dealing with the right person," the captain smiled. "A point you have very generously conceded. As to why you're here, it seems there are one or two minor things we didn't cover the last time we chatted."
He picked up one of the sheets, holding it by his fingertips as if it were extremely fragile or precious.
Myth-Nomers & Im-Pervections Page 14