Robert Asprin's Myth-Quoted

by Jody Lynn Nye

  “Thank you, friends, thank you!” he shouted.

  “In the purple corner, with the total acclaim of the Wisdom Party, weighing seventy-five kilos, dignity in every bone in his body, Wilmer Weavil-Scuttil!”

  Wilmer strutted forward, hands grasping lapels and bowed gravely to each direction.

  On cue, a rain of spoiled grapes and seeping tomatoes hurtled toward him. Wilmer stood his ground bravely, trusting me to protect him.

  I didn’t let him down. Not only did I manage to prevent a single fruity sphere from impacting on his pristine white suit, I made the magik rebound the missiles in the direction from which they had come. Like a rain of arrows from an army of greengrocers, the vegetation pelted down on the Friendship Party. They let out some pretty unfriendly-sounding gripes as they wiped verjuice and tomato paste out of their eyes. I grinned. I’d been practicing that move for days.

  “And at a little over ninety kilos of muscle and, er, scales, the newcomer to our fair shores and a mighty contender in his own right, the favorite of the A Plague on Both Your Houses Party, Aahz!”

  Aahz sprang forward with his fists pumping toward the sky. “Good morning, Bokromi!” he roared.

  I braced myself. From all directions, vegetables that had probably been decaying for months came hurtling toward Aahz. I built a cylinder of power around him. The heaps of stinking onions, gourds, peaches, and limons hammered at it until he was almost waist-deep in them. Aahz looked supremely unconcerned. With a flick of his wrist, the rotten vegetables went flying outward.

  I was astonished. I had not really had a chance to talk with Aahz in days. Maybe the joke powder that Garkin had used on him in our cottage on Klah had worn off at last. He looked as if he were back to the way he used to be, a master magician with full control of his power. Maybe that was why he didn’t need us anymore.

  Then I saw Shomi. She flicked her little claws very close to her wide sash, as if she were conducting an orchestra of ants. She was doing it, making it look as if Aahz had a Pervect’s full complement of magikal control. I was relieved. It also impressed the onlookers. They kept on heaving mud and soggy fruit at Aahz and took it without rancor if it came hurtling back at them. In fact, they were all having a great time. Maybe Bunny and I had been wrong to deny them that part of their campaign.

  I could have smacked myself in the forehead. What was I thinking? This was supposed to be a dignified process!

  “Now, I hope you folks are gonna fight this election out fairly, with peace and mutual respect,” the mayor said.

  “What makes you think something like that?” Aahz asked. He slapped the astonished mayor on the back. “Absolutely! I plan to show my opponents every bit of respect they deserve. Right, folks?” He turned to the audience. His volunteers laughed uproariously. Wilmer and Emo didn’t look that amused.

  “Now, all three of you have a little presentation for us, don’t you?” the mayor asked.

  “Yes, indeed,” Wilmer said. He took a card from his pocket. “I want the good people of Bokromi to know exactly where their donations have gone to date, and where they will go if they are generous enough to open their pocketbooks to us today. First, office rental. My manager, Orlow Suposi, managed to get us a good deal on an empty building at the most reasonable fee of nine silver pieces a day. Now, that may sound like a lot, but for a property that size, it’s pretty good. Next, posters. Can’t have a campaign if no one knows you’re there. The copy-elves have been great, just great. Their fees to date ran . . .”

  “Aaaa—oooo—booo—rrringgg—aaagh!” Aahz stretched his arms and yawned. Wilmer turned to glare at him.

  “Sir! I beg your pardon!”

  Aahz was the picture of innocence.

  “What’s your problem?” he asked.

  “You . . . yawned.”

  “Excuse me, I didn’t get too much sleep last night. Sorry to interrupt.”

  “Well, all right,” Wilmer said. “. . . Posters and banners, twenty-four gold pieces. Meals and entertainment . . .”

  “Eeeee—yah!” Aahz nearly yodeled, throwing back his head. His mouth opened wide, giving the crowd an excellent look at two rows of pointed, four-inch teeth, a purple tongue, and four tonsils. “Sorry. I fell asleep in accounting class in school, too. Go on. It’s very interesting. Isn’t it, folks?”

  “. . . Fourteen-gold-pieces-transportation-five-gold-pieces-rental- ninegoldpiecesbuttonshatsandothergiftstwentytwogoldpieces!” Wilmer finished in a breathless rush. His eyes bulged out, and he panted. “Thank you all. I look forward to receiving your kind donations and good wishes!”

  His supporters let out a ragged cheer. Emo took his place. He shot Aahz a cautious glance. Aahz appeared to be examining his nails. Emo fluttered his false lashes and smiled at the audience.

  “Ladies and gentlemen and children, I’ve prepared a little song for you today.” He beckoned, and a couple of musicians dressed in green climbed up to the podium carrying a guitar and a harp. They sat down on either side of Emo and struck up a gentle air. Emo burst out singing. “Bokromi needs a leader / someone who is good and true / who has your best interests in mind / so what’s a candidate to do? Oh, run run run / like your life depended on it / Run run run / that’s what I plan to do!” He dropped to one knee and threw his arms imploringly to the people. “Run run run / straight to the gov’nor’s mansion—”

  TAAA-RAN-TAAA-RAAAA!

  The blare of horns exploded deafeningly in the square. Everyone clapped their hands to their ears. Around the corner from both ends of the street, two enormous groups of musicians strode, converging on the gazebo. From the east came the brass band that had led Aahz’s parade. From the west a more diverse assemblage approached. It consisted of jazz musicians from Satchmo, a dimension that was famous for its music, led by a gray-haired Satch in a lemon-yellow suit and hat and carrying a matching umbrella over his head. Emo looked shocked, then furious. He leaped to his feet.

  “Who is respo—” he bellowed.

  BRRRUUUM! BRRRUUUM! BRRRUM-TUM-TUM! BID-BIDDIDITY-BOP, BIDDY-BOP! RAN-A-TANG-TANG-TANG, BOPPITY BOP. BOP. BIDDITY-BOP. BOP. BA-DAAAA! The Satches tootled, banged, bowed, strummed, and struck their instruments in such an exciting fanfare that almost no one could keep from moving to the rhythm.

  “Silence!” Emo shouted. The music died away. “I wasn’t finished with my song!”

  “Sorry,” Aahz said. “The entertainment I hired arrived a little early. Shame on you guys,” he told them. The musicians bowed their heads. “Go on. I’m sure everyone wants to hear the rest of it.”

  “All right,” Emo said, a little mollified. He turned to his accompanists. “From the chorus? Oh, run run run / like your life depended on it . . .”

  BIPPITY-BOP-BIPPITY-BOP, BOOP DE BOOP!

  “What are they doing? Make them stop!” Emo cried, jumping up and down. The Satch players looked up, askance.

  “They’re just joining in with your musicians,” Aahz explained. “To give you more of a backup.”

  “I don’t need them! I wanted to do it my way. You’ve ruined it.”

  Aahz shrugged. “A fellow tries to do you a favor, and this is the thanks I get.”

  “I didn’t ask you for a favor,” Emo said, pulling himself together. “It was very kind of you, but your help isn’t needed. Ladies and gentlemen, I want to be your governor. I promise that I will do my best to see that your needs are met and that I can help Bokromi to prosper. You will always find a listening ear and an open heart in my office. Please give generously. Thank you.”

  With a final flirt of his eyelashes, he withdrew. His supporters cheered. The marching bands offered a smattering of applause, then struck up a loud chorus as Aahz strode up to the edge of the stage.

  “Morning, everyone!” he said. “Nice of you to save the best for last! Now I’m sure my two opponents are worthy of taking office and doing great things with it—that is, if you want your governor to be a math teacher or a song-and-dance man.” Emo and Wilmer looked shocked. A gasp ro
se from the crowd. Aahz kept going. “I believe that you all want your political leader to have a clue as to how to get a point across. I’m a successful businessman. I want to be your governor. I need your help and your money to get elected. Now, enjoy the show.”

  The Satch bandleader and the Whelf drum major beat out a four-count.

  BIPPITY-DO-BOP BOP. BIP—

  “Now, just hold on here!” a voice bellowed from above.

  The music died away. I recognized the voice as my adversary, Sergeant Boxty, echoing in the stone canyon. From every direction, both on the ground and from the air, hordes of Tipicanoo police descended on the gazebo and formed a stern-faced ring around it, facing outward. Boxty himself flew in and landed right in front of us. He smacked his nightstick into his palm and walked around Aahz, looking him up and down.

  “Disturbing the peace, are you?” he asked.

  Aahz snarled at him. He had never been too fond of legal authorities. “Who says I am? A flying stoat?”

  With a disapproving glare, Boxty flipped open his ticket book. “Well, I’ll just add giving lip to a police officer as one of the charges against you!”

  “Charges?” I asked, pushing up beside Aahz. “What charges?”

  Boxty flicked his pencil point down a list on the page. “Running an unregistered campaign? Enrolling workers who don’t have proper identification? Interfering in the functions of duly certified candidates for a lofty and dignified office?”

  “Who says I am?” Aahz demanded.

  The other two candidates and their managers watched this exchange with growing satisfaction. Their eyes gleamed with malice.

  “We do!” Wilmer said.

  “He’s not unregistered, sergeant,” I said, alarmed. “That was all settled last night!”

  “What about all of these people here?” Boxty asked, aiming the eraser end of his pencil at the crowd.

  “Well, I don’t know . . .”

  “Take him in, sergeant, so we can go on with this fund-raiser!” Emo said. “These good people shouldn’t be troubled by a Pervert who can’t follow the law!”

  “That’s Per-vect,” Aahz announced in a voice that shook the gazebo. “So, sergeant, what do you intend to charge me with?”

  “I’m sure there’s been some kind of misunderstanding,” I said. I didn’t want Aahz to go to jail as I had.

  “You would know all about misunderstandings regarding campaign laws, Mr. Skeeve,” Sergeant Boxty said.

  “Well, I didn’t, but I do now. Aahz hasn’t done anything wrong! Can we talk about this?”

  “And to what end would we be talking, Mr. Skeeve? It would be pointless. Officer Malarkey!”

  “Yes, sergeant!” The burly Tipp landed beside his senior officer and saluted.

  “I accuse this Pervect”—he glanced at the crowd and the other two candidates—“of being a very fine fellow who will make a damned good governor!”

  “What?” I demanded.

  “What are you saying?” Wilmer asked, running a finger around in his ear to clear it. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean!”

  “Arrest him!” Emo exclaimed.

  “Don’t have to,” Boxty said. He and Aahz gripped hands and laughed. “This fellow cares about the law! He’s been working with me all along to be sure his supporters are registered properly, with cards and all. He’s going to have my vote next week!”

  “You can’t do that! It’s a violation of practice!” Orlow said.

  “What practice is that?” Sergeant Boxty asked.

  “Public servants aren’t supposed to endorse candidates!” Wilmer said.

  “Or take part in cheap charades!” Emo added.

  “That wasn’t a cheap charade,” Aahz said. “It cost me plenty! One big contribution . . . to the Police Benevolent Fund. Naturally, Sergeant Boxty wouldn’t take money for his own enrichment. That would be bribery of a public official!”

  “But . . . but . . . this is against our agreement,” Carnelia said.

  Aahz stared her down.

  “Did I sign a contract?”

  “No! But you should!”

  “Why?”

  “Aahz!” I said. He grinned at me. I was too shaken to grin back. “Was this a setup all the time?”

  “Sure! Good publicity. Sergeant Boxty was glad to go along. It got everyone’s attention. It got yours.”

  “Aahz, I thought you were going to be arrested!” I said.

  “Don’t worry about me, kid,” Aahz said, spreading out his hands. “I have this in the bag.”

  “Only if you finish in first place,” I said, suddenly angry. “You could still get disqualified.”

  “On what grounds?” Aahz asked. He was miffed that I didn’t see the joke.

  “On the grounds of not following the rules of this election!”

  “What rules?”

  “There are books full of them! Bunny followed them to certify you so you could participate. There are codes of conduct. The others have agreed to follow them, and they’re paying us to administer this election. Are you planning to chip in?”

  The Aahz I knew hated to spend money, but he certainly had been spreading it around in Bokromi, and he knew how much work Bunny and I had been doing. He tilted his head, doing some internal calculations.

  “Well . . .”

  “Why should we?” Shomi asked, pushing up and poking me in the chest. “Since you are already doing it, are you planning to stop running things just because Aahz has joined the contest?”

  “Well, no,” I said. “But . . .”

  She cut me off. “No? Then we decline. But thank you for your good service. I trust it will continue as smoothly it has been? When Aahz is governor I am sure that he will consider you for a trusted position.”

  At least Aahz looked a little embarrassed by Shomi’s statement, but I felt my temper flare up.

  “No, thanks!” I said. “When Aahz is governor, this is the last dimension where I’m going to spend any more time!”

  I stormed away. So much for a dignified process!

  “Come on, people!” I could hear Shomi call behind me. “Donations, please! Pass the hat!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  “Just a little something to remember me by.”

  —SHAH JEHAN

  I scanned the Morning Gossip by the thin light filtering in the north-facing window of our little office. It had rained all morning, which suited my bleak mood.

  To no one’s surprise, the fund-raiser had not made the papers. Instead, they carried extensive coverage of a children’s hopscotch tournament in the outlying suburbs. In a way I was glad. I was furious at Aahz. How could he fool me like that, for the sake of publicity?

  He had warned me that politics corrupted people. I never thought that it could take someone like Aahz down. I would have expected him to tip me off beforehand that he was pulling a stunt.

  I guess I was just sore that he had strung me along with the crowd. He wanted me to react with everyone else, as if he thought I might betray the joke with some word or gesture. I thought he trusted me more than that. I could keep a secret!

  To be fair, though, I was an election official, and I was supposed to remain neutral. I supposed I could see the point. I just hated being taken in.

  “Are you coming with me to see Sid the She?” I asked Bunny. Gleep, excited at the prospect of a walk, romped and cavorted around my legs, his weight shaking the floor with every bounce.

  She had her nose in a thick ledger filled with black and red ink. Startled, she glanced up when I spoke.

  “No, thanks,” she said, with a quick smile. “I’ll meet you at the debate. Is that all right with you?”

  “You’re the boss,” I said. I used the word playfully, but she seemed to wince at it. Did my cruel words of the week before still sting? A thought struck me. I looked down. “Gleep, stay here with Bunny.”

  “Gleep!” my pet said, his eyes huge with disappointment.

  I knelt down beside him and looked dee
p into those blue orbs. “Make sure she gets there safely, all right?”

  “Oh, Skeeve, I’ll be fine,” Bunny protested.

  “Gleep,” my dragon said, closing one eye in a wink. I nodded. I didn’t trust the Syndication, or the two other parties, and at the moment, I didn’t trust Aahz.

  * * *

  “. . . Dooo-ooo-ooo-naaaa-tions were generous! The gods looook down favor-aaaably on those with oooopen hands!”

  Sid held her arms out before her, her face glowing beatifically as if seeing a sacred vision. The square around the gazebo was packed with young people dancing and older people listening intently. There was no doubt about it: The crowds got larger every day. Sid was a hit. I was pleased. We had managed to work around the Syndication’s obduracy.

  “. . . In gratitude, the candidates did give balloons and toys to the smallest and youngest! Those of age received the waters of life!”

  I frowned. Elixirs? Potions? Who could afford to give away potions? I waited until Sid made an announcement about the upcoming debate and parties at all three campaign headquarters to follow and concluded her performance. As the crowd started to clear out, I skirted puddles and met her at the bottom of the stairs. The She swept down to me, her gray gown fluttering around her feet.

  “How was that, Skeeve?” she asked.

  “Uh, effective as always,” I said. Her cheeks hollowed with pleasure. I had removed the wax from my ears so she wouldn’t see the plugs. “What was that about gifts from the candidates? That wasn’t in the briefing we gave you.”

  “It’s true,” she said. “I’m sorry to alter your report, but I remained after your departure. To the children, the three distributed small presents of a harmless nature. Then, Aahz gave the adults bottles of Whisky.”

  “He did?” I asked. “Real Whisky?”

  “Not the true liquor from Whis, but the distillation served in most bars around the dimensions.” She looked at me with concern. “Did I do something wrong? My understanding was that we are still the only true source of news in this place. I thought it best to inform people accurately as to the events. I didn’t include my observations of the annoyance of the other two candidates, because I felt that would be editorializing, and I am only supposed to report.”