Class Dis-M.Y.T.H.ed

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Class Dis-M.Y.T.H.ed Page 21

by Robert Asprin


  "Welcome to Sink or Swim! This is Day Four of the brand new series set here on Perv. Our original sixteen teams have already been pared down to eight. Following is a holographic representation of some of the highlights of the last few days."

  Exciting music with a catchy, rapid beat rang out.

  "Yes, indeed, you had to be there! Now, you know the rules of Sink or Swim, but we're going to recap them for you now. Amateur magicians only. Entrants can never have accepted money for doing magik under any circumstances. It's not too late to go back in time and return that quarter to your Grandpa, kids!"

  Hilarious laughter from the studio audience and the three women watching from the sitting room.

  Schlein continued. "That restriction is enforced by an oath administered by our Spectre team with dire consequences visited upon anyone who is lying to try to get in. We don't mess around here, folks! All the contestants are split up into teams of one to eight players. Each team must fulfill any task assigned to it. No weapons except those listed in the rulebook. Uh-huh," he added gleefully as the audience laughed again at what I knew was an empty book. "That's right, folks. Mechanical or physical objects are not allowed. You have to use your wits!"

  Well, that was a weapon most of the viewing public wasn't going to be able to wield.

  At that moment the blue crystal emitted a shower of sparks. I tried to get it to do that again. When I next found myself paying attention, Schlein was several paragraphs farther in his introduction.

  "…Magikal interference with the performance of others is not only allowed, it's expected! Once you're out of a round, you may not use magik on anyone else remaining in play, or your whole team will be disqualified. Failure of any team to complete a task will put it on the Wheel of Misfortune, where one team will be eliminated after the end of each day by a spin of that day's most successful group. Once all teams but one have been eliminated, the members of that team will be pitted against one another in a life and death struggle for the Grand Prize—a commission to work for the famous Mistress Montestruc!"

  I didn't have to glance into the room to see the silhouette that appeared in Bytina's expanded image. When I had sat with Bunny to watch Sink or Swim: Zurik, I'd gotten the impression of plenty of long, red hair piled up on the head of a formidably statuesque female form. Because the rest of the figure was in shadow, I had no idea Mistress Montestruc's race. All that was visible was a glimmer that could have been satin or a glistening hide. Bunny cooed at the glimpses of huge, glittering gemstones around Mistress Montestruc's neck, waist and wrists.

  Schlein went on with his spiel. I could have recited it with him. "This fabulously wealthy and reclusive heiress has business interests across the dimensions. Who knows? You may end up president of a shipping company, operator of a casino, or running errands for the lady herself in her fantastic villa in the exclusive dimension of Nola! All this to one lucky contestant at the end. And now—will our teams Sink or Swim?" In my mind I could see Schlein wave his hands. "Sink or Swim: Perv," etched themselves in huge green letters on the air then dissolved.

  "Here's what happened yesterday!"

  More dramatic music, over which Schlein offered peppy narration. I had noticed that no matter which game or contest Bunny viewed, the commentators were all relentlessly cheerful, remarkably stupid, and endlessly talkative.

  "The All-Pervects really got into it with the Dragonettes. Where they had lost ground with the Volcano Challenge, the All-Pervects really surged back into the lead with the eating contest. At the gun the four Trolls and a dragon team had consumed nine whales, and the All-Pervects, nine and a half! What a mouthful that was!

  "Next, the Sorcerer's Apprentices, who won the Free Pass Challenge on the Acid Trapeze the day before yesterday, got to sit out the Wheel of Misfortune with the rest of yesterday's winners. The Dragonettes, the Gargoyle Girls, Sid's Slashers, Garonamus, the Bald Guy with Muscles, and the Sharkbait teams all had to spin to see who goes home! What suspense! What terror! What a surprise when Sid's Slashers drew the unlucky straw!"

  A trumpet blew a scale of descending notes, indicating disappointment. Tananda and Bunny added their sighs.

  "Well, we're happy they were here. The rest of the teams are still raring to go!"

  Fanfare!

  "Since we're past the halfway point in Sink or Swim: Perv" Schliney went on suavely, "we invite our on-the-spot odds-maker to give us his insight into how the contest is going. Will you all welcome—The Geek!"

  My ears perked up at the familiar name. I had known the Geek for a long time. He was a Deveel, well known around the Bazaar. The last time I'd seen him, coincidentally, was about the same time I had seen Markie. He had foisted her off on me to try and destroy my reputation in the Bazaar. To say there was no love lost between us was to make the relationship sound warmer than it was.

  "Geek, welcome."

  "Schlein, always happy to be here."

  Yes, that was the Geek, all right. He sounded oily enough to grease a castle drawbridge with his tongue. Not a bad notion, now that I thought about it. I wondered how I could engineer that happy accident, and whether I could sell tickets. I knew plenty of people who would buy one.

  Temper, temper, I chided myself.

  "Geek, you've been watching the action since Day One. Give us your feedback, and let us hear your predictions for the outcome of this most thrilling contest."

  "Well, Schlein, we've lost a few contenders. I gave good odds that the Battling Bugbears would have made it through to the final round, but when the Imperators tripped them up on the obstacle course, all bets were off. Then the Imperators got their own clocks cleaned by Sid's Slashers—my odds-on favorites—who just lost the Wheel of Misfortune challenge. Then there was the problem that the Gargoyle Girls had against the always-dangerous Second Lieutenants with Compasses, but eventually won out. As for the others, I told you from the beginning the odds in their favor were too long to bet on."

  "I'll bet you did!" Schlein retorted perkily. "So, as we go into the next round, tell me the odds on the remaining teams. What's your angle on today's contest?"

  "Well, Schlein, the Ogre-wrestling contest has always been a favorite of mine…"

  Chapter Twenty-One

  "Did I forget to mention that?"

  B. Elzebub

  Before I knew I had even gotten up, I found myself on the threshold of Bunny's dimly lit sitting room. Tananda sprang up from the squashy chair in the corner near the fireplace and folded herself around me like a very tight-fitting straitjacket.

  "Hey, Tiger, how are you doing?" She kissed me thoroughly, which is just a Trollop's way of saying hello.

  "Mmmph mppphhffpp!" I replied, in no real hurry to extricate myself. She was a wonderful kisser. Too bad I had come to think of her more as a sister than a potential love interest.

  "Is that all you can say to me?" Tananda asked with a wink.

  "Hi, Skeeve," Markie said shyly.

  "Couldn't stand eavesdropping any longer?" Bunny asked.

  "I heard the Geek talking," I said, trying not to sound sheepish. I felt my way through the illusion that Bytina spread across the room to find myself a place to sit. "I guess I was curious. His angles are usually bent in some way."

  "I don't see how," Bunny said, frowning. "These are games of skill, not chance. You can't deal a volcano off the bottom of the deck."

  "I understand where you're coming from," Tananda acknowledged. "The Geek's only as honest as the facts that can be checked."

  We all gazed at the image.

  The Geek looked about the same as when I had last saw him, but his race lived a very long time compared with Klahds. Schlein looked dapper and sincere in a white collar and blue-flowered tie. Between the red Deveel and the green Sittacomedian, a huge chart appeared.

  "Here are my picks in reverse order. At twenty-five to two against, Sharkbait! Next up the list, I give the Gargoyle Girls twelve to one. The Bald Guy with Muscles, our only surviving one-man team, is at nine to one. The
Shock Jahks comes in at five to two. The Dragonettes are at three to one. I give Garonamus three to one. The All-Pervects are at even odds."

  Schlein interrupted him. "But the real surprise is how well the Sorceror's Apprentices are doing. You've got them at six to one to win today's matchup!"

  "That's right, Schlein," the Geek said suavely. "This underdog of a team—no offense to the Canidian in the ranks!—has survived every one of their tasks, even the dangerous Crocodile Cage Match. Frankly, I'm amazed. You'd think any team that had a Klahd in it would be history from the get-go. But no. He's not holding them back too much. So, they're a team to watch. But the All-Pervects are still my number one pick."

  "Do you hear that? His number one pick!" Schlein announced to the audience. It responded with roars of approval. "Yes, Perv has reason to be proud of its Perverts!"

  "Booooo!" the crowd roared.

  "I mean "Pervects, of course! The All-Pervects are the top of the chart!"

  More cheering. Schlein wiped his brow.

  "A Klahd on a team?" I asked. "I'm amazed he hasn't been toasted by now."

  The others shot me an impatient look. I shut up.

  Images of the teams popped into view next to their names on the chart, then each picture spread out around the room, increasing to life size so they were easier to see. The All-Pervects were fierce, four males and two females in coveralls that made them look like they meant business. The Bald Guy with Muscles wore black trousers and a skimpy shirt without sleeves. He snarled at the magician capturing him in crystal. For a moment, the image shook. I chuckled. He had psyched out the magician. I bet he was a tough competitor.

  The laugh died away in my throat as I turned to the next bubble. The Sorcerer's Apprentices looked strangely familiar. I gawked at the faces of three Pervects in matching pastel jumpsuits, one Cupy in a flannel sleeper, the Canidian in question, and one Klahd. One freckled, red-headed Klahd: Bee, formerly of Her Majesty's Army of Possiltum. My blood seemed to freeze in my body.

  "What are THEY doing in there?" I exclaimed.

  "Oh, Skeeve," Bunny squealed, clutching my arm, "I forgot to tell you when I got home. The Myth-ka-technic University group entered Sink or Swim! See? They named themselves after you."

  "They did?" I thought about it. Sorcerer's Apprentices. I might have liked Skeeve's Sages or The Spellbinders better, but Sorcerer's Apprentices wasn't bad. "I guess they did." A horrible realization came to me. "Is this why they asked me to teach them? For a GAME?"

  "I guess so," Bunny said. "Aren't you happy this is why they needed you, and not some nasty reason?"

  "For material gain?"

  "And why is this suddenly a problem?" she asked. "Isn't that why you wanted to learn magik in the first place?"

  "I—" Honesty compelled me to stop and admit that to myself. My own motives had not been pure. I'd thought only of magik as an adjunct tool to help me in my first profession, theft. "But why didn't they mention it?"

  Tanda cuddled in on my left side. "I guess, Tiger, that they didn't want you to know. They might have been embarrassed." I frowned. This from a woman who was scarcely ever embarrassed about anything. "You might have said no. You know what you just said. Maybe other teachers would have had scruples against helping amateurs crib for a contest for pure monetary gains."

  Garkin would have, I realized. He kept trying to tell me to study magik for myself, but I'd been young and stupid, like these kids were. No, they hadn't been stupid—I had. There were so many questions I had not asked.

  "Did Chumley know about this?" I demanded.

  "I—" Tanda's green cheeks deepened to the color of spinach. "Yes, he did. He told me, but he'd been 'sworn to secrecy, what?'" she added, in an imitation of her brother's cultured speech pattern. "And he asked me to keep it mum. Believe me, I thought about letting you know, but I couldn't see the harm in it. After all, it's not like they were dragging you in there with them."

  "But they are!" I exclaimed. "I mean, what if something happens to them? I'll be responsible for giving them a false sense of security."

  "You did nothing of the kind," Markie assured me. "I was here. I saw how you encouraged them to get into the game and try. Even my horrid nephew prospered, and I thought he was a forlorn hope."

  "So YOU knew, too."

  Markie nodded. "Frankly, I was hoping that spending time with you would make him realize he didn't want to enter the contest, but you cannot tell kids anything. You are selling yourself short, Skeeve. I think you've given him and the others a chance at surviving it honestly. I wanted you to give him the confidence not to have a tantrum and get distracted. That would be the worst thing he could do."

  "It could be far worse," I said severely. "Have you seen some of these contests? He could get killed! All of them could! What about Bee? I can't believe Massha would hand me a green youngster and expect me to turn him into a killer contestant!"

  "Ooh, look, there he is!" Bunny said suddenly, picking up Bytina to increase the level of sound.

  At the side of the arena, a perky Sittacomedian stood with my former students. She was interviewing Bee.

  "…Surprised to see someone from Klah in the competition," she was saying. "Tell me, how did you come to join us here on Sink or Swim?"

  "Well, I was just learning some extra magik-Ooof!" He stopped as Jinetta edged into the picture and nudged him hard in the ribs with her elbows. "I met these folks on Klah, and well, we all get along pretty well. I never heard of the contest before. They liked me enough that, when they left Klah, they convinced me to come with them. They said it would be fun."

  "And is it?" the winsome reporter asked with a huge smile toward the crystal ball.

  Bee nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes, ma'am. It's about the most exciting thing I've ever done!"

  "He's going to get killed," I pronounced glumly. "All he ever wanted was a head start on his new profession, and he's going to die in a game show. I thought I was helping him!"

  "You ought to be proud," Tanda said. "He's taking a chance. Most of your people never get the opportunity to really test themselves like this."

  Bunny agreed.

  "Everyone at the unicorn show was really impressed when I said they were all your students. The Geek is right. They're doing really well."

  "How?" I demanded. "They're still as raw as steak tartare!"

  "Oh, you wouldn't believe it," Tananda assured me. "You'd never know they're complete amateurs. I've never seen Pervects cooperate with any other race like that, well, since you and Aahz, really. The whole group operates like a well-oiled machine. They split up a task and tackle it. You'd think they had the details of every event planned out in advance."

  "Knowing the Geek, someone might be tipping them off," I said worriedly. I scanned the other teams and groaned. Dragons! Trolls! Landsharks! Deveels! The opposition looked like the Who's Who Compendium of Tough Competitors. Next to them, my students looked like a field trip from a junior high school.

  "But they all take an oath to play fair," Bunny insisted. "They wouldn't cheat."

  "If they were told that being given the information was part of the game, they may not be aware it was cheating. Remember, they really are new at this. They won't know they're being manipulated," I said.

  "Are you sure?" Bunny asked. "Melvine sounded pretty savvy."

  "I think it's all window-dressing," I said. "He bluffed a lot. He'd say he knew how to cast a spell even when he had no idea."

  "What about the Pervects?" Tanda asked.

  "College students," I moaned. "They believed everything their professors told them. They would take anything an authority figure said at face value."

  "Shh!" Bunny said. "The game is beginning."

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  "We're not dead yet."

  M. Python

  The team pictures vanished in a dazzling array of colored lights. Schlein emerged in the center of the coruscation and smiled directly at us.

  "And for our first task tonight, the Hot Pota
to contest! Yes, this is a very popular competition. All of the teams will send a representative to the Arena. This is a very special hot potato, as all of you know."

  An irregular brown oblong appeared in Schlein's hand. He tossed it up and down a couple of times. "It gets hot then hotter then hottest! The player who handles it last is the winner! Of course, the one still holding onto it when it explodes loses. And occasionally we lose a couple of audience members, too, but it's all in good fun. So, who will win…Hot Potato?"

  The invisible orchestra produced a deafening fanfare. The lights died away, leaving eight spotlights pointing down at the stage.

  "Oh, who will the Sorcerer's Apprentices send?" Bunny asked, bouncing up and down in her seat clutching a handkerchief between her hands. "The Pervects can't handle fire. Tolk will burn his mouth! And Bee—"

  In a moment we had our answer. On the floor of an arena with deeply raked sides, eight figures each took their places on a circle of light. A huge Troll, an Imp, a male Pervect, a female Jahk, a Gargoyle, a muscular man without a hair on his head, and a flying shark stomped, strode or wriggled into view. They were joined by a tiny figure wringing his hands together over his head in a sign of victory.

  "Melvine?" I asked.

  "Don't worry about him. We're pretty impervious to heat," Markie said, waving away my concern. "It's one of the first things you learn in fourth grade. That's the Fire Elemental class."

  Schlein appeared on the center of the circle of contestants. He held up the brown potato, and tossed it to the Troll. The Troll caught it between thumb and forefinger and threw it to the next contestant in line, who passed it on at once. It didn't look like a challenging contest to start.

  I was wrong. Before the vegetable had made a complete round it started glowing slightly. Sweat breaking out on the face of the Imp told me that it had grown almost too hot for him already. He tossed it away and rubbed his palms together. Disdainfully, the Pervect received the missile and sent it on. The Jahk threw it to the Gargoyle with a pained shriek.

 

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