Robert Asprin's Myth-Quoted

by Jody Lynn Nye

  “Aahz, what are you doing?” I asked. I grabbed Gleep around the muzzle in case he went after Aahz’s—agent?—and held on to him.

  “Running for office, kid. Watch me.” He slapped me on the back.

  Bunny looked at Aahz. “What’s going on here?”

  “Didn’t you hear my campaign manager? I am here to run.”

  “Campaign manager?”

  “Yes. Didn’t I introduce you? Bunny, this is Shomitamoni. Shomi, this is Bunny, and that’s Skeeve, two of my partners.”

  “Gleep!” my pet interjected with reproof in his large blue eyes.

  “Yeah,” Aahz added, exasperatedly, “and that’s Skeeve’s dragon.”

  “Gleep!” Gleep looked satisfied and settled down at my side.

  “Nice to meet you,” Shomitamoni said. She tucked her hands into her sleeves. “So, all right, then, let’s get down to business. What do you need to see first?”

  “Miss Bunny, this is outrageous!” Orlow said. “I thought we agreed that this Pervert would have nothing to do with this election!”

  “That’s Per-vect!” Aahz bellowed.

  “Pervert, Pervect, call him what you like,” Shomi said, with a dismissive toss of her head. “Very soon you will be calling him Governor.”

  “We’ll see about that!” Carnelia said. “Miss Bunny, have him and this . . . powder puff removed from these proceedings!”

  Shomi drew herself up to her not-very-impressive height. “Powder puff! You watch it, madam, or I’ll organize your fur stole into the Interdimensional Ladies’ Working Garments Union!”

  Carnelia drew her rodents close to her bosom. “There’s no need to take that tack with me! I am just saying that that Pervert should not be here! Send him away!”

  “I can’t do that,” Bunny said. “If he qualifies, then he is entitled to run. Your statutes say so.”

  “What?” Orlow demanded. “Let me see them!”

  Bunny shrugged and beckoned to a pair of hefty Tipp assistants at the foot of the stage. Sighing, they bent and picked up each end of a large trunk. They trundled it up the stairs and dropped it with a BANG. One flipped open the lid to reveal dozens of dusty, leather-bound books.

  “Help yourself,” she said.

  Wilmer drew himself up. “I believe that I am sufficiently familiar with the relevant laws.”

  “And . . . ?” I prompted him.

  “I would sooner you didn’t entertain them.”

  “But you promised he would have nothing to do with this election!” Emo said.

  “We guaranteed that he wouldn’t be involved in running the election,” Bunny said. “I couldn’t promise he wouldn’t run for office.”

  Aahz smiled. “So, let’s get this show on the road!”

  “All right,” Bunny said, holding out her palm. “Birth certificate.”

  Shomi reached into her sleeve and came out with a translucent sheet of green glass. I could see words etched into it. She slapped it into Bunny’s hand. “Birth certificate. Official copy.”

  “And where was this distinguished gentleman born, as if I didn’t know?” Emo asked.

  “Perv,” Shomi replied. She whisked a sheet of blue paper from the other sleeve and smacked it onto the desk. “Translation into Tipp and Klahdish.”

  Bunny turned over the shining green square with interest. “I’ve never seen one of these before. It’s pretty!”

  “But he wasn’t born in Tipicanoo!” Orlow sputtered.

  “Doesn’t have to be,” Shomi said. She pointed at the trunk. “Volume nine of the statutes for elective office, page eleven oh four, column two, lines forty-six to forty-eight: a candidate is not required to be born a native of Tipicanoo to run for office. It is merely required that he or she or it will have been born. No Golems, Robots, or Figments of Imagination allowed.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Really,” Shomi replied. “Can we get on? My client is eager to participate in the election!”

  “I need proof of residence,” Bunny said.

  Shomi produced a scroll tied with a black ribbon and sealed in gold. “Residence.”

  “Now I know you can’t fulfill that requirement,” Emo said. “A candidate has to be resident in Bokromi to be governor. You live in Deva.”

  “I did,” Aahz said. “But I picked up a nice little property right here in town. Nothing fancy, just seven bedrooms, a swimming pool, billiards room with wet bar. Just a little pied-à-terre. It was a real steal. The owner was motivated to sell.”

  “When did you buy it?” I asked, then I realized I knew. “Ecstra told me that someone from our company had bought a piece of property in Bokromi. I thought she was making a mistake.”

  “No mistake,” Shomi said. “This is the plat of survey.” She held out a small globe. She shook it, and the particles of sand inside settled into a small blueprint, complete with arrows and a transparent image of a house, or rather mansion, superimposed above it.

  “You’ve been planning this for a while, Aahz,” Bunny said, with a look that said We’ll talk about this later.

  Aahz brushed it away and grinned. “I have always prided myself on making a plan come together. This little place just fell into my lap.”

  “I’ll bet it did,” I said. I was torn between admiration and annoyance that he had been doing all this behind our backs.

  “And why not?” Shomi asked. She didn’t wait for an answer. “Next, please?”

  “Nominating petitions,” Bunny said. The thick ream of paper that landed in front of her made the desk shake. She looked up at Aahz. “What did you tell people to get them to sign this?”

  “I told them I represented the A Plague on Both Your Houses Party,” Aahz said, with a grin. “They couldn’t wait to sign up.”

  Bunny donned her visor and went to work with her lens. You could have heard grass growing as she thumbed through page after page. To my astonishment, not a single name lit up. When she came to an end, Bunny squared the papers off and set them down. “Aahz has over twenty thousand signatures here. They’re all valid.”

  “Twenty thousand?” Emo echoed. The two Tipp candidates were dumbfounded. Aahz’s outnumbered their totals put together. By contrast, the managers looked admiring, even envious.

  “Nothing but the best,” Aahz said. “I have some pretty motivated campaign workers.”

  “And donations,” Bunny said.

  Shomitamoni handed over a ledger. Bunny went through it. Emo and Wilmer peered curiously at it, then edged closer and closer to see, until they were looking over Bunny’s shoulders.

  “Do you mind?” she asked.

  They looked sheepish, but retreated only one pace.

  “Say, wait a minute!” Wilmer said, squinting to read. “Frimple, Deva, five gold coins . . . Trlngn, Ymryg, three gold coins? These are all from outside Tipicanoo?”

  “Nothing in the rules says all donations have to come from here,” Shomi said, dismissively. “Or any, for that matter.”

  “But . . . donations are usually given by people who want to support a candidate where they live or work,” Emo said.

  “In other words, what’s in it for them?” Shomi asked. She didn’t seem to be a big fan of dancing around a topic. “Access! Aahz is the next governor. If they are interested in trade with this sad little backwater, and I don’t know why they should be, he has promised to look at their proposals favorably in exchange for donations.”

  “That’s unethical!” Wilmer stated.

  “Is it?” Shomi asked, peering up at him with her bright black eyes. “And what do your constituents get for helping elect you to office?”

  Wilmer leaned back and grasped his lapels. “The thanks of a grateful governor, that’s what.”

  “Pah! You can’t take that to the bank.” She turned to Bunny. “Well, missy? Is everything in order?”

  Aahz had a way of taking over a room, but his associate carried assertiveness to a much higher standard. To my surprise, it didn’t seem to offend Bunny.<
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  “It is.” She cleared her throat. The Echoes picked up the noise and carried it all the way to the back of the crowd, though it was so silent that she could have whispered it unamplified and everyone on the island would have known in a minute. “Aahz is qualified to run. I am pleased to declare that these three gentlemen are the sole and well-qualified candidates for the high office of governor of the island of Bokromi in the dimension of Tipicanoo.”

  The audience went crazy with joy. Aahz grinned out at the sea of Tipps. At his side, Shomi tucked her little hands into her sleeves.

  “But . . . but . . .” Emo Weavil sputtered. “This is making a mockery of the election system!”

  Aahz shrugged. “Sounds like politics to me.”

  Shomi turned to the crowd, which was watching this whole proceeding agog. “Aahz is hosting a small party tonight at his townhouse. Drinks and hors d’oeuvres. You are all invited.”

  “Yay!” the audience cheered.

  “But that’s not on our schedule,” Carnelia said.

  Orlow looked horrified. “We haven’t had time to plan parties.”

  “Does that sound like my problem?” Shomi asked. “Come on. We have a fleet of luxury carriages waiting for all you nice members of the press corps. Aahz!” Shomi didn’t wait to see if he followed her. She bustled off the stage.

  “Aahz, wait a minute!” I called.

  He tipped me a wink and strode down the steps of the stage in her wake. The gang of reporters at the foot of the stairs surrounded him, shouting questions. The crowd closed around them.

  “Wait for us!” Emo shouted. He hurried off, followed by Wilmer and the rest of their staffs. Bunny came up to stand beside me and Gleep. We watched the crowd hurry away.

  “What is he up to?” Bunny asked.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “I like starting off with a big splash.”

  —M. PHELPS

  “Hey, how ya doing? Vote for Aahz!” Aahz shook hands with an astonished Tipp in a checked cap and tweed jacket on the third tier on the cliff above the main square. “Morning. A vote for Aahz is a vote for sanity, if you know what that means.” A grasped hand and a big grin, and he strode on to a group of mothers. “Cute kids. You know they’d do better under my administration than those other two clowns, right? Vote for me. Only two weeks left until the big day!” He pinched a pretty girl’s cheek. “Hey, gorgeous, vote Pervect! You know you want to.”

  Aahz’s legs were shorter than mine, but I had to run to keep up with him. Behind us a cadre of reporters all armed with notepads pursued us along the pathway, shouting questions. New posters had joined Wilmer’s and Emo’s on walls and signposts. Aahz’s face leered at me from every side. I ducked under an ornamental hanging flowerpot and hurried up to his side. I lowered my voice.

  “Aahz, what’s going on? What are you doing here?”

  “Looks like you needed some help, kid,” he said. He thrust his way into the crowded vegetable market and stopped to pick up a huge green melon. He took a huge bite out of it. Juice ran down the sides of his mouth. “That’s great! When I’m governor, this will be the official fruit of Bokromi!” He handed the half-chewed fruit to the nearest reporter. “Here, hang on to this for me.” The others gathered around to look at it. Aahz moved on, shaking hands and kissing women.

  “Aahz, you can’t do that!”

  He raised his eyebrows at me. “Name an official fruit? Why not? Some places even have official bacteria.”

  I had no idea what a bacteria was, and at that moment didn’t care.

  “No, I mean run for governor. They already have two candidates.”

  “Had two. Now they have three. Hey, how ya doing? I’m running for governor. The only viable candidate. Vote Aahz. I’ll make sure you have job security.” This last was addressed to a street sweeper who was picking up fruit peels and rotten vegetables.

  “Aahz, what would you get out of taking office in Tipicanoo?”

  Aahz kept his grin in place as he shook hands and picked up babies to kiss. To my surprise, the infants cooed and laughed at him instead of the way their parents reacted, which was to recoil in disgust. “Skeeve, this is the biggest power vacuum I’ve seen in a long time. It wouldn’t take much to waltz in and take over. Maybe I want a cushy office job for a change. Without my magikal powers, I’ve been stunted. I like the sound of ‘Governor Aahz.’ Looks good on the résumé. Got to fund my retirement.”

  “But aren’t you spending a lot of money on this campaign?” I asked. “A house, posters, hats and parties and everything?”

  Aahz turned to me in shock. “Kid, haven’t you absorbed a single thing I’ve taught you? Never, never, never use your own money. Everything I’ve spent has come from donations and contributions. Which reminds me, we’re going to have a major fund-raiser tomorrow. Come on down and see the event. It’ll be a blockbuster. I hired a couple of musical acts and a tumbling team that’ll knock your eyes out!”

  “That’s the same day as the next debate,” I said.

  “So?”

  “Don’t you want to participate in the scheduled events?”

  “I’m a leader, not a follower,” Aahz said dismissively. “Shomi will inform the other guys of what I’m doing. They can decide if they want to go through with their debate or join me shaking the can.” He glanced ahead and pointed to a painted sign swinging from a horizontal standard. It said The Tipp o’ the Hat. “There’s a tavern. Let’s go inside. I want to get to know the locals and find out what’s on their minds. Bartender!” He pushed through the door and shouted to a round-bellied Tipp who was indeed wearing a distinctive hat. “A round for the house!”

  “. . . And that’s what’s wrong with the government today,” said an elderly Tipp with prominent front incisors, pointing a finger at Aahz’s nose. “No respect for the working Tipp. Everyone pays in, but nothing comes out.”

  “Aye,” his cronies intoned, like a theatrical chorus. “Not like it used to be.”

  “Things are gonna be better,” Aahz said, firmly, pounding a fist on the bar. “I promise when I’m governor, people will get out of government what they put into it.”

  “About time someone understood that,” another gray Tipp said. “Bartender, another one for my friend. Beer okay with you, Mr. Aahz?”

  “Beer, wine, liquor, whatever you’re having,” Aahz said expansively.

  I had to admire Aahz’s tactics. There had been a dozen old males in the inn when we had arrived. I knew how much he hated to part with money, so I was a little shocked to see him buy a round of drinks, but it had paid off handsomely. Presenting himself as a willing listener, and a generous one at that, had gotten him an earful of complaints but tray after tray of free drinks. He quaffed beer out of a half keg while his new friends hoisted pewter tankards. And of course, you couldn’t drink without something to eat. At the request of the regulars, the bartender had put out baskets of crispy snacks. I tried one and found it greasy and salty—in other words, perfect tavern food. Aahz downed them by the handful, offering his wisdom in between bites. The crowd grew, supplemented by the noontime crowd and the host of reporters who had followed us there. Everyone wanted to tell the new candidate what they thought, and he was such a good listener! Inexorably, I was shoved away from his side until he was surrounded by Tipps talking and waving their arms.

  “Now, if you really want to know what I think, I’ll tell you,” Aahz said. “When it comes to money, nothing works like having a lot of it.”

  He held forth at length on something that sounded like economics, but I couldn’t follow all the jargon. To me it sounded like nonsense, but the crowd filling the room nodded knowingly as if he were letting them in on valuable secrets. My mind started to wander. I yawned. Aahz making a long speech was nothing new to me. When he stopped to take a breath, an ocher-furred male Tipp I recognized as a reporter for the Daily Tipp-Word held up a pencil.

  “Sir, may I ask you a question?”

  Aahz turned a big smile on him.
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  “The gentleman from the press?”

  “Yes, Mr. Aahz. You’re new on the scene. What do you think you can bring to the electoral process that’s been missing the last five years?”

  “Fresh perspective,” Aahz said promptly, as if he had been waiting for someone to ask him just exactly that question—and I suspected that he had set it up to be asked. “You’ve been listening to the same guff for a long time now. And what have they told you? The same old thing. Now, I have experience ranging across a hundred dimensions about how to bring prosperity, order, and safety to Tipicanoo, starting from right here in Bokromi. I want every one of you to join me on that journey.”

  “Mr. Aahz! Mr. Aahz!”

  “Yes, the pretty girl in the blue lighting up the room.” Aahz pointed. “Hey, babe.”

  She simpered with pleasure. “Mr. Aahz, do you have plans to expand government or reduce it?”

  “You can bet on it, sweetie,” he said. “Next question?”

  “Mr. Aahz! Mr. Aahz!”

  Aahz sat back with a big grin and a newly refilled beer, offering his opinion to anyone who asked for it. He posed for Shutterbug images, signed autographs, and shook hands. I could see Tipps crowding in the door trying to catch sight of him.

  “Mr. Aahz!” a broad-chested Tipp called to him. “What about the debate tomorrow?”

  Aahz waved a hand. “You want to be bored? Go ahead! If you want to hear interesting ideas about your future, come and listen to me the day after tomorrow! I’ll be speaking in the gazebo in the town square at two o’clock sharp. But I’m not greedy. I invite my opponents to take their place on the stage with me and offer their own suggestions! Tomorrow, I’m holding a fund-raiser. If you can spare a coin or two for the sake of your government, bring it tomorrow. Even copper pieces will be welcome. Every little bit will help build the road to your future!”

  It would have made a great personal-interest story in the paper, except nothing favorable about the campaign was being published. The Syndication would find a way to skew the story of Aahz’s candidacy to push the election as far into the future as possible. I thought I should warn him, but I was interrupted by a fanfare of horns from outside the building.