“No, Sid, it’s my fault for not staying,” I said. I cursed my temper. I shouldn’t have let Aahz and Shomitamoni get to me, especially when I knew they were baiting me on purpose. He probably wanted me out of the way before he bribed as many voters as possible. “Thanks for getting the facts out there. You’re doing a great job.”
The She smiled. “It’s a great job. I’ll miss it when it’s over.”
I sighed. “I wish I could say the same thing.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“You have to know how to handle children.”
—R. PLANTAGENET
“Waaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!”
I felt like crying myself. The lightning round of the baby-kissing contest was not going as smoothly as the first one had. Bunny and I sat dejectedly at a table in front of the gazebo where we could see all three candidates. The files of mothers with infants reached well out of the square and into the nearby streets. We were required by legal precedent not to block our ears, so the full brunt of the blubbering babies couldn’t be shut out. Bunny winced every time a new child started to cry.
“I thought I wanted to have children one day,” she said, between gritted teeth. “Now I just want a flower garden.”
Even Gleep hid under the table with his paws over his ears, crooning unhappily. I would have sent him home, but his presence helped keep the crowd in line. Not that the usual protesters would have endangered small children, but I had seen them cause disruption in countless other ways. Painful as it was for him, Gleep understood.
The rules of the lightning round were different than in the previous contest. The candidates were going for speed over accuracy. Not surprisingly, having Aahz lunge toward a Tipp infant sent both mother and baby into hysterical tears more than half the time. The chalk marks under his name on our slate mounted up steadily.
As fast as he was going, Aahz did his best not to upset the babies. I knew he was a father, and one of his pieces of advice I had never forgotten was, “The proof that a person learns from experience is that no one ever wakes a baby twice to see it smile.” I began to suspect that not every outburst was from seeing a Pervish face full of fangs leaning close for a kiss.
I glanced toward Wilmer’s team. The candidate himself was too busy to cause trouble, and Carnelia stood beside him, offering anxious encouragement. Instead, I watched Morton, the Wisdom Party magician. He seemed more intent on how Aahz was doing than on Wilmer. I felt power growing subtly and stood up so I could see what he was doing. As Aahz bent to smooch a little boy holding a silver rattle, a surge of magik hit me in the back. Then another hit me in the front, from the opposite direction. The baby and I both began to cry.
“Waah!” the little boy yelled.
“Boo-hoo-hoo!” I sobbed. I took a deep breath, trying to control myself. Bunny looked up in concern.
“Skeeve, what’s wrong?”
“Illicit interference,” I said, taking a deep breath, then burst into tears again. A very little girl in a pink dress nearby looked up sympathetically and offered me her lollipop. I was so unhappy I almost took it. “M-m-m-Morton did it! Boo-hoo-hoo!” Then I noticed that Riginald looked pleased with himself. A strong miasma of magik swirled around him. I pointed at the Friendship Party’s magician. “And Riginald, too! Wah-hah-haaa!” I gasped for breath and sobbed again.
“Now, just a moment!” Carnelia said, bustling over to me. One of her rodents offered a handkerchief. She took it and dabbed my face with it in a motherly fashion. “You surely aren’t accusing our magician of interfering with Mr. Aahz’s efforts? Not when he has so many natural disadvantages of his own? I mean, that face and everything! You’re just feeling hysterical. Crom knows the rest of us feel that way about now.”
Orlow was right beside her. “You can’t blame our fellow! Why, he can hardly see Aahz from where he’s standing.”
I took another deep breath.
“Ju-ust beca-hic-use I’m crying doesn’t mean I am hysterical! I felt the spells hit me,” I said, trying to catch my breath. I rubbed my eye with my fist. “I saw—I saw—I saw them! They’ve been making tho-ose babies cry!”
“Right,” Bunny said. “That’s ten points against Wilmer, and twenty against Emo!” She chalked firm lines on the board.
“What?” Orlow declared. “Why?”
“For cheating, then lying about it!” She turned back to the stage and clapped her hands. “Candidates, a fifteen-second break! I have an announcement to make!” Emo, Aahz, and Wilmer put down their current smoochees. “Cheating is not going to be tolerated while Skeeve or I am here! If anyone on your staff causes interference with another candidate’s babies, you’ll get a penalty. With every subsequent infraction, it will go up by ten more points. Do I make myself understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Orlow said.
“All right.” Carnelia let out a loud sigh.
Aahz’s campaign manager didn’t reply.
“Shomitamoni?” Bunny asked, warningly.
The little female waved a dismissive hand. “All right, whatever!”
“Good. Candidates! Pick up your next baby, aaa-and kiss!”
I sat down next to Bunny.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. From the broad white force line overhead, I pulled down as much energy as I could possibly hold. I enveloped myself in it, imagining that I was in a cloud, floating high in the sky. Soon, the deep unhappiness receded. I opened my eyes. Bunny was looking at me intently. I smiled at her and picked up the chalk.
Even with the threatened penalties keeping potential cheating at bay, Aahz was so far behind I didn’t know how he could recover enough to win the contest. He was crooning obscenities, but in a nice, soothing voice so as not to upset the children.
“Ratzining framling heptapods should be boiled in lava sauce,” he cooed, dandling a tiny baby girl. She poked him in the eye with a finger. He kissed her hastily and handed her back. “Yank their gizzards out with a slather-hook and feed them to a pack of wild landsharks, yes, I will.” The next baby began to whimper as Aahz reached for him.
“What a shame that you can’t charm the babies with illicit gifts, Mr. Aahz,” Wilmer said, as he picked up a pair of twin girls from their carriage.
“What illicit gifts?” Aahz asked, giving a hasty peck to a young Gorillaard that tried to climb up his tunic and plant a long skinny tongue in his ear. “Cut it out, kid, or I’ll tie a knot in that.”
“Waaaah!” Sensing disapproval, the baby whimpered at him. Aahz looked sulky. I had to chalk a penalty against his name. Aahz thrust it back into the arms of the Tipp female who had brought it up.
“Seems like you just lack the knack, sir,” Emo said, tickling a Deveel infant under the chin. It went to bite his finger, but to give him credit, it didn’t cry. “What are you, a couple hundred points down already?”
Aahz shot a glance at the chalkboard and looked peeved. “If I thought there was any point in these stupid contests, I’d be worried,” he said.
“Of course there’s a point!” Wilmer said, shocked.
Aahz put down the child he was holding. “And that is?”
“To show the public we care about them!” Emo said. He hugged the little girl in his arms. She let out a squeak of protest.
Aahz raised an eyebrow. “By exposing yourself to the little plague-carriers’ germs? I bet the public is thrilled, especially the moms who are number two thousand in line. How many colds are you giving the kids by passing along every virus that you pick up? Not to mention exposing yourselves. You’ll probably have to govern the first two months of your term from a hospital bed. I’m going to go get a drink. If all these parents are smart, they’ll join me!”
The females began to look uneasy. They started whispering among themselves. A few pulled out of the queue and strolled nonchalantly toward the edge of the square.
“No, ladies, come back,” Emo pleaded. “I promise you we have your children’s very best interests a
t heart.”
“Aahz,” I said, warningly. “You agreed to participate in this event. We’re not here to judge how Tipicanoo structures its elections.”
“And you started believing in the Prime Directive, when?” Aahz challenged me.
Since I had no idea what he was talking about, I let his gibe roll off my back. He was in a dangerously petty mood. I was familiar with the symptoms. All I could do was try to sweet-talk him back into cooperating.
“But, Aahz,” I said, “you want to win a Tipp office. I know you could take on a slate of Pervects without even breaking a sweat.”
Aahz considered the question. “Well, I’ve never been nominated . . .” he began, modestly.
“That’s just because no one knew you might be interested,” I went on, with all the sincerity I could muster. “Now, here in Tipicanoo, it’s a fresh challenge. Hardly worth your talents, I know. Of course you could win doing things the Pervect way, but if you win honoring the Tipp customs, there will be no doubt that the voters elected you because they wanted you, not because you were a novelty candidate.”
Beside me, Bunny held still, not daring to breathe. I watched Aahz’s expression go from scornful to suspicious. I kept my face devoid of anything but concerned innocence. Then, he let out a loud laugh. He slapped his knee.
“Kid, you’re right. I can beat anyone at their own game. Gimme that baby!”
The next mother in line, overwhelmed by the force of his demand, handed him her infant, a little boy wrapped in a yellow blanket. Aahz crooned at it before giving it a sound kiss that I thought might take off one of the baby’s ears. He thrust it back at her and scooped up the next infant. I gave him an admiring look, then signaled to the other two to resume their osculations.
The fact remained that Aahz was probably too far behind to win this contest. Emo and Wilmer were far too experienced at the game to make easy mistakes, as Aahz was. It didn’t help him that when a baby broke out in hysterics on seeing him, he couldn’t calm it down. With a grim expression, he carried on.
Bunny looked at the clock in the square and tinkled her little bell.
“Candidates, we’re down to the last fifteen minutes!”
I did a quick calculation on the chalkboard. No doubt about it, Aahz was going to lose by a huge margin. The other two were virtually neck and neck.
“Uuurp!”
Wilmer jumped back as the inevitable happened, for the fourth time that morning. The child who spat up on his white coat smiled up at him toothlessly. Wilmer pecked him on the top of his little head as aides rushed to help him change clothes. Emo couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“How come they never do that to you?” Wilmer asked Emo. “Your clothes make adults sick.”
“I charm them,” Emo said, holding a little darling tenderly. I noticed Shomitamoni watching him. She raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, Emo held the baby away from him. An assistant moved in hastily to dab at his colorful waistcoat with a cloth.
“I see,” Wilmer crowed. “They prefer to show their opinion in other ways!”
“That’s not funny!” Emo said.
“Why, I think it is!”
“A little yellow looks good on you!” Shomi yelled.
“Did Shomi do that?” Bunny asked.
“I don’t know,” I said. “If she did, her magik is too subtle for me to detect.”
Emo looked furious. He shot a meaningful look at Riginald. The bulky Tipp nodded acknowledgment. The very next child Wilmer took out of its stroller vomited spectacularly.
“That one I felt.” I stood up. “Thirty points against Emo!”
“Why, you rogue!” Wilmer said.
The rate of accidental bladder voidings increased dramatically, as did upchucking, wailing, tantrums, and screams. Both the Friendship Party and Wisdom Party magicians threw spells freely. I had a hard time keeping up with the penalties earned by both sides. The candidates kept trying to kiss babies while avoiding their outbursts. Aahz put down the last child he was holding and watched with obvious glee.
The clock struck the hour. Bunny tinkled her little bell. The candidates stopped and stared at her in bemusement.
“The contest is over!” she announced. “Skeeve, what’s the score?”
I turned to the chalkboard and my scrawled addition in the corner.
“Well, Aahz kissed six hundred and three babies. He lost three hundred and four points for crying. That means he has a total score of two hundred ninety-nine.” The other two candidates looked smug. “Emo kissed six hundred twenty-five, but he lost three hundred thirty points . . .”
“What?” Emo said, horrified.
“I told you that the penalty increased every time your staff used magik against another contestant,” Bunny said severely. “It added up! Your score is two hundred ninety-five.”
Wilmer looked smug. “And me, Mr. Skeeve?”
“Six hundred thirty, minus three thirty-five. That’s also two ninety-five.” Bunny shook her head. “That means Aahz is the winner!”
“Gee, we haven’t had a winner before,” I said. “Congratulations, Aahz!”
Aahz held his hands over his head as the crowd cheered. Reporters converged on him, shouting questions. It was a shame that nothing Aahz said was going to appear in the papers.
Wilmer, Emo, and their managers approached our desk.
“I wish to contest this outcome, dear lady,” Wilmer said.
“On what grounds?” Bunny asked.
“On account of that Pervert cheated! I just conferred with my magician here, and he swears that he did not start the, er, leaks that plagued the last round of the contest.”
“Skeeve the Magnificent is a magician with repute across many dimensions,” Bunny said. “He sensed Morton and Riginald breaking the rules, and after I warned all of you!”
“But Aahz cheated, too!”
“Can you prove it?” Bunny asked.
“Yes!” Emo said. “I felt magik coming from his direction just before one of the babies, er, expressed himself.”
“That’s impossible,” I said.
“How can you say that?” Emo demanded. “He’s a Pervert! They are powerful magicians. A tiny thread of magik like that! I wouldn’t have noticed it at all except that I have had to learn to look out for such subterfuge in these contests.” He looked at Wilmer, who nodded agreement.
“Well, because I know Aahz,” I said. “He wouldn’t cheat like that.” I couldn’t explain that Aahz didn’t have any magik. No one in this dimension knew that except for me and Bunny. If anyone was to blame, it was Shomi, but I would never be able to get either of them to admit it.
“Perverts are Perverts!” Emo said. “If only Tipps were involved, I wouldn’t have these concerns.”
“Quite right!” Wilmer declared. The two of them exchanged emphatic nods.
“All right,” Bunny said, with a deep sigh. “I’ll declare the contest void, in that case—if you’ll excuse the expression. One event more or less won’t make any difference on Voting Day.”
“Thank you, Miss Bunny,” Wilmer said, bowing over her hand. “You are the soul of grace.”
Emo took her hand and looked deeply into her eyes. “Until the evening, dear lady.”
“Yes,” Bunny said, retrieving her fingers and checking to see if they were still there. After all, they had just been handled by two politicians. “When we do this all over again.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“A good wife is hard to find.”
—HENRY VIII
The Hotel Tippmore was the site of Meet the Candidate’s Family event. With Bunny’s help, I chose a formal outfit in the Bazaar’s most exclusive boutique that catered to Klahds and other demons who didn’t have tails. I came out dressed in a dark-blue silk shirt that Bunny said went well with my hair and eyes, smoke-gray suede vest and trousers, and a gleaming black leather boots and belt. She wore a plum-colored dress that dived low between her breasts and was open nearly all the way down her back. If it hadn’t
had a long skirt as well, I would have found it impossible to concentrate on anything else but her. I bought her a pair of long gold earrings with bronze-colored stones that she had admired. After all, what was the fun of having money if you couldn’t buy things for your friends?
We did not attend alone. Guido wore a black suit with a black shirt and white tie that made him look like a solid wall with a white stripe on it. Gleep wore a new collar that I made him promise not to eat until after the event was over. I wanted to have something to hang on to if he decided to chase someone I didn’t want him to chase.
The room was full of reporters and Shutterbugs, as well as several hundred members of the public browsing around and chatting quietly to one another. Ecstra caught my eye. She gave me a hopeful little wave. I waved back, then pointed toward the middle of the room as if I had something important to do. She looked sad but resigned. I was, too. The Syndication had been unusually quiet. We had been able to publicize our notices with the help of Sid the She and my process servers without interference for days. Call me paranoid, but I suspected a strike of some kind was imminent. I didn’t want to end up in a dark cave again, but I wished that the papers were covering the election as they should have been. This event would have made for several great articles.
All three candidates had set up refreshment tables in three corners of the chandelier-draped ballroom. The fourth corner was occupied by an eight-piece orchestra in formal black coats or dresses, sawing away at something slow and classical.
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