Myth 18 - MythChief

by Asprin, Robert

  “Let me go back there and negotiate with him, Boss,” Nunzio pleaded. “Something ought to befall him for vio-​lating our copyright.”

  “Something's going to befall him, but not directly,” I said. “I think I'll take Gleep for a walk here later on.” Nunzio grinned. “Perhaps this is the day that his obedi-​ence training just happens to fail.”

  “I'm counting on it. The Cake ceremony imposters, though, have got to be shut down. That affects our very bread and butter, so to speak.”

  Myth 18 - MythChief

  TWENTY -THREE

  “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.” CHINESE COPYRIGHT ENFORCEMENT AGENCY “This is the address,” Massha said, after we had turned about eight corners.

  It looked like an ordinary bakery. I ducked my head to pass underneath the flour-​sack towel that had been nailed over the doorway. Inside, a bunch of blindfolded Deveel children were playing Pin-​the-​suit-​on-​the-​lmp. Each tot had a cutout of an incredibly ugly suit and was trying to tack it onto the image of an Imp wearing a red-​flannel union suit. He didn't look any more embar-​rassed than I was.

  “Hi, there!” called a nice, middle-​aged Deveel woman. “Are you one of the parents? Oh, wait, you're a Klahd. No offense. Can I help you?”

  I looked around. This was definitely the place. Imita-​tions, and cheap ones at that, of all of Hermalaya's beauti-​ful ritual objects were arranged throughout the big room, but it was a far cry from her oasis of peace.

  “Are you the one running Reynardan Cake ceremo-​nies?”

  “Sure am! You just missed one! We're all done now.” She caught one of the children as it raced by and wiped frosting off its smeared face.

  “But... all these are children,” I said, looking around.

  She planted her big hands on her hips. “But of course it's for kids!” she said, looking at me as if I was out of my mind.

  I fumbled for an explanation. “Yes, but, Dragon-​pinning is part of the sacred rites of Foxe-​Swampburg. You're cheapening it by using a different image. You're devaluing a historical rite!”

  “Pal, I'll rip off your arm if you don't keep your voice down. These kids are having fun!”

  “I am Skeeve the Magnificent. I am here as a represen-​tative of Princess Hermalaya of Foxe-​Swampburg. You shouldn't be doing all of this.”

  The woman glared at me. “Buddy, I don't care who you are, but if you frighten these kids off, I will give you a black eye so large it will cover your whole body.”

  “Now, see here,” I started.

  The woman lowered her horned head until we were eye to eye and nose to nose. “You see here, you skinny Klahd. The kids love it! I'm not stopping just on your say-​so.”

  “Take it easy, take it easy,” Massha said.

  “I'm not giving up on this one, Massha,” I declared. “Not twice in one day!”

  “You don't have to, Skeeve. Excuse me a minute.”

  She put a huge, meaty arm over the shoulders of the De-​veel and led her away quietly. I tried to listen over the din the children were raising.

  I heard the words“... genuine ... adult... contractor... Bazaar exclusive ... children.” When she returned to me, the Deveel was grinning broadly.

  “Mr. Skeeve, your associate told me all about what you're doing. I am so sorry to interfere with such a worthy enterprise. My name's Hepzibiltah, by the way.” She seized my hand in both of hers and pumped it up and down. “For-​give me for not introducing myself, but these kids make me crazy. It's a wonder I can remember to go home at the end of the day.”

  I tried not to look suspicious. Deveels didn't act solici-​tous and placatory unless you had them over a barrel, one in which they could see an advantage for themselves.

  “So, my associate, did she agree with the terms we pro-​posed?” I asked Massha, trying not to sound as though I was totally in the dark.

  “Well, master, she walked right into it... I mean, she likes the idea a bunch. Who wouldn't?” “Indeed?” I inquired imperiously.

  “Yeah, well,” Hepzibiltah said, a little awkwardly. “I mean, I heard about it on the Crystal Ether Net, and it sounded like something the kiddies would like. I mean, I am already running a bakery. Having the kiddies come here to have a party just seemed like a natural extension of my business. I didn't mean to move in on your territory. I mean, you're Skeeve the Magnificent! I forgot all about yI mean, it's been a long time since you've been around. I guess I thought you moved on.”

  That stung, but it wasn't her fault. I regarded her with a benevolent face. “I am sure you did not mean to offend. Then it is agreed?”

  “You bet,” the matron said heartily. “I get two-​year ex-​clusive Bazaar rights to run this operation for kiddies, op-​tion to be renegotiated at the end of that time. And I will study to become a real Cake Master. I'm looking forward to it. It's been a hoot so far. Er ... you won't mind if the definition of kiddies gets expanded a little? Sometimes I get teenagers in here, the occasional frat party ... ?”

  “As long as they don't have kiddies of their own, they can count,” Massha said. “You know, twenty-​nine is the new nine.”

  “Uh, okay,” she said, doubtfully. “Sounds fair. But your fee? Twenty percent of the gross sounds a little, er, hefty.”

  “In exchange for calling yourself an official representa-​tive of the Foxe-​Swampburg Cake Ceremony, it is minor. But... since you seem to be operating in a friendly and hygienic setting”I glanced at Massha for her approval and got it“fifteen percent will do.”

  “Still a little top-​heavy. Ten?” I spread out my hands. “Twelve and a half. Skeeve the Magnificent does not haggle.”

  “That is what they all say. buddy. But okay. Weekly col-​lection is okay. That's when I pay all my suppliers.”

  “Enforcement of exclusivity will be handled by you, I assume?” I eyed her under my lowered brows. “Honey, you can count on it. My husband's Mettro. You probably have heard of him?”

  Mettro ran a large underground network of enforcers that worked in the Bazaar but had hired out to other di-​mensions for a fee. I had never needed his services, but I heard he was reasonably priced and would go anywhere. I raised one eyebrow. “Yes, I have.”

  “So, no problem. The kiddies get their Cake and eat it, too.” Hepzibiltah burst into hearty laughter, which shook her ample flesh all around. “Get it?”

  “I... got it.”

  Massha beamed as I shook hands with my new partner and swept out of the shop.

  We turned into a side street where I dropped my dis-​guise.

  “Whew,” I said.

  “Not too bad,” Massha greed. “A little extra in the kitty. I looked at her books. She's pulling in almost ten gold coins a week profit already.”

  “Sounds kind of marginal to me,” I said. “Around here, ten gold coins is nothing.” I started to turn back. “Maybe we could just make do with ten percent. Or five.”

  “Hold it right there, Hot Pants,” Massha said, dragging me back by my arm. “Don't let your heart get in the way of the real reason we did that. Hermalaya needs the bucks, and you don't want anyone to get the idea that you're a pushover. You handled one difficult situation pretty well. Let's go back to Bunny and turn in this money. We're do-​ing pretty darned well right now. Don't forget that.”

  We went back and handed over the funds. Bunny tilted her head as we explained the day's work.

  'I wonder if you should get credit for the subsidiary rights, Skeeve,“ she said. ”No offense, but you didn't strike the bargain."

  I felt my face go scarlet, but she was right. I couldn't take Massha's glory away from her.

  “Okay,” I said. “Chalk that contract up to experience. Hermalaya gets the money no matter who gets credit for it.”

  “No,” Massha said. “It's his. We work as a team in the field, Bunny. We always have, We play off each other's strengths and weaknesses. I was there. I just jumped in. He would have gotten around Hepzibilta
h in the end, but he was starting off from the wrong place, and it would have taken a much longer time. I just cut through some of the thicket. He did finish off the negotiation in the end.”

  Bunny smiled at her. The two of them had become very good friends over the years.

  “Okey-​dokey,” she said. “I get it.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief as she inked in the profit un-​der my name. In spite of setbacks and disappointments, I was collecting a pretty impressive sum. I just wondered what other booby traps Aahz was setting for me. I might have to lay a surprise or two of my own.

  Myth 18 - MythChief

  TWENTY -FOUR

  “Come on,” I said, pulling Dervina along with me through the dank, chilly corridor of the Foxe-​Swampburg castle. Centuries of Hermalaya's ancestors glared down at me from fancy gold frames in between sconces giving off a faint, blue light. “He'll be glad to see you.”

  “But aren't we expected?” the Gnome asked. The fussy little creature kept tapping her fingertips together over her little round midsection.

  “Constantly,” I assured him.

  Most of the hallway was deserted, now that about half the servants and almost all the courtiers had been dis-​missed, I knew where we were going, because I could see the two guards flanking the door two-​thirds of the way up the hall. Dervina looked nervous as we passed them, which I put down to the local livery. Over their already feral faces, the guards wore helmets of bronze cast into the like-​ness of insane wolves with slavering jaws and anatomi-​cally correct dentition, giving each of them almost as fearsome a snarl as a Pervect. The fur cloaks over their shoulders looked like they might have been skinned off the backs of defeated enemies. Dervina gulped.

  “Hi, boys,” I said, slapping the one on the right as we went by him. “”The big guy's expecting me."

  Theirs was not to reason why, I figured, since they didn't stop us. On the other side of the door, we were halted by an ice-​cold look from Matfany himself.

  “What are you doing here. Mister Aahz?”

  “'Business,” I said, amiably, hoping to engender the same mood from him. It didn't work. The gaze grew even more chilly.

  “Mister Aahz, I informed you that it would be best if you made an appointment before bursting in. I am very busy most days and don't have time to drop everything on a whim. Perhaps I didn't impress you enough with the im-​portance of my position here and the respect that derives from it?”

  “Sure you did, sure you did,” I assured him. “And that is why Dervina here wanted so much to meet you in person.”

  I stepped aside. The Gnome bowed over her folded hands. Matfany peered at her over his glasses and rose to his feet.

  “Ma'am, I apologize. I am afraid I just didn't see you there.”

  “Perhaps we should leave, Mister Aahz,” Dervina said, nervously. “If Prime Minister Matfany is too busy ...?”

  “Not at all, ma'am,” Matfany said, automatically turn-​ing on the courtesy. He came around the document-​strewn desk with his hand extended. “Please, be welcome in Foxe-​Swampburg. How may we serve you?”

  “She's looking for a little something in a library or a symphony hall,” I said. “What have you got?”

  Matfany put on a pained smile. “We have a couple of fine libraries, ma'am,” he said. “The Orchestra Hall is where the orchestra plays, but we've also got an opera house. Both of those are pretty popular.”

  “I can show them to you on the map,” I said, brandish-​ing my chart. I glanced at his desk and at my prospect. It had taken me weeks and half a dozen favors to get an ap-​pointment with anyone in the Zoorik banking industry. Dervina was the only banker willing to talk to me about Foxe-​Swampburg. Evidently their bond issues were down below an F-​rating, and no one in Zoorik wanted to even talk about Foxe-​Swampburg and money in the same sen-​tence. She liked the idea of a cultural center with her name on it, but being more cautious than the Geek or Gribaldi, she wanted to see the place first. We needed to wow her. “You haven't got a lot of room here. Let's move into the throne room and take a look at the map in there.”

  “Let's not, sir,” Matfany said, just as firmly. “This is my office. It is where I do business. Pray allow me, ma'am?”

  He escorted Dervina to his chair and helped her to sit down. He rang a handbell on his desk. When one of the masked guards looked into the room, Matfany beckoned to him.

  “Will you go ask the kitchen to bring this lady some refreshments? Would you like coffee, tea, or a little some-​thing stronger?”

  “Oh, tea, thank you!”

  I would have liked something a lot stronger and in de-​cent quantity, but Matfany ignored me and my wishes. Ef-​ficiently, he tidied everything off his desk and spread out the map facing our guest. When the tea arrived on a cart pushed by a surly maidservant in a frilly pink apron, Mat-​fany took it from her. He fussed over Dervina, fixing a cup for her just the way she liked it. I finally caught him alone by the door when he went out to ask for a few more lamps over his desk.

  “Look, pal,” I hissed at him, "this gal could mean a bucket of money. I don't want her to think the two of us don't get along. You have been torqued off at me for days.

  You have a problem with me? Let's hear it. You want my help, or not?" Matfany pulled himself up to his full height and looked down his nose at me.

  “That encounter in your offices continues to trouble me, sir. I need your help for the kingdom's sake, sir, but I will not have you blackening the name of our princess.”

  I blew a raspberry. “Former princess, pal, let me remind you, since it was you who booted her out. Remember?”

  Matfany looked pained. “Also for the sake of our na-​tion, as I told you, but you must understand, I still have the greatest respect for her.”

  “Fine!” I snarled. “I won't insult her anymore. But this Gnome is a serious prospect who wants her name on a fea-​ture in Foxe-​Swampburg. Keep the charm going, and it'll pay off in gold, remember? Prosperity equals respect?”

  “ I have to talk to you about that, Mister Aahz,” Matfany began. “Later,” I said. “That tea okay, Miz Dervina?”

  “Yes, yes,” the Gnome banker said, blinking up at us. “This is a most curious opportunity, Prime Minister. I have to admit that it intrigued me. There are few intangible assets that carry value. I intend to retire next year, and hav-​ing my name on a building would be a legacy I should en-​joy in my retirement. Can you show them to me?”

  “Why, they are right there,” Matfany said. “That is the old library, right here facing the castle. The new library is the building here next to the university on the edge of town. The other new library's over here. Which one do you like'?”

  “Oh, I'd have to see them to decide,” Dervina said. “I never buy a property without a thorough inspection. We Gnomes are cautious by nature, you know.”

  “Ma'am, you do understand that you aren't really buying the item in question?” Matfany asked, with more emphasis than usual. “You're providing a name, in exchange for a consideration”'"

  “I do understand, sir,' Dervina said. ”But. perhaps also with an additional honorarium, I might be allowed a taste-​ful plaque with my name on it affixed to the edifice in question, the fee to allow that designation in perpetuity? I would be prepared to go as high as a thousand . . ?"

  A thousand! I tried to keep from whooping out loud.

  The prime minister's face cleared. “That would be quite all right, ma'am. I'd be happy to escort you around to the various sites you want to see. May I warn you in advance that there's been some little trouble as of late? You might see things that I hope won't upset you.”

  “I know all about the pinchbug infestation, Prime Min-​ister,” she said.

  “Well, it's not exactly THAT,” Matfany said, with a significant look at me. I could see more discussion coming my way, but I had no idea why. “Ah, but if you please, your time is valuable.” He pulled back her chair and stuck out his elbow. “This way,
ma'am. Sir.”

  I trailed along behind him. The heralds at the door raised long trumpets and blew a fanfare, and the guards threw open the big main doors as we approached them. Matfany marched proudly out with Dervina on his arm. I followed, and stopped short.

  When I saw what he called “some little trouble.” I had to hand it to him for understatement. “What the hell is this?” I asked. “Clearly, you did not come in this way,” Matfany said. I whistled. “No kidding.”

  The courtyard wasn't distinct in any way from thou-​sands of enclosed spaces of fortified houses and citadels across the dimensions, except in its present population density, which had to comprise a good quarter of the Swamp Foxes in Foxe-​Swampburg. As soon as they saw Matfany, they raised protest signs over their heads and shook their fists at him. The signs were badly lettered, but I could read most of them.

  “Bring Back Hermalaya!” and “We Want Our Prin-​cess!” was the gist of the majority, but “Keep Foxe-​Swampburg Beautiful!” was on a good third of the placards out there. Other gripes filled the rest, but I got the point. They surged up the stairs and surrounded us. Dervina cringed.

  “Get back!” I roared. The Foxes crowding me recoiled slightly, but kept pressing in. The next one that

  touched me, I heaved into the air and flung. He landed on six or eight of his fellows. I lunged for the next one, but he dodged out of reach. I grabbed two more and banged them to-​gether. They fell down. The Foxes behind them tripped over the bodies and whacked each other with their signs.

  The prime minister maintained a dignified mien down the long staircase, Dervina on his arm. A group of Vixens came running toward him with their signs up.

  “Bring back the princess!” they cried.

  Matfany flung up a hand. They barreled to a stop. He lowered his head so he was looking over his glasses at them. He dropped his fingers and flicked them twice. The females scrambled backward, retreating into the crowd. He started walking forward. A path cleared before him. The protesters started shouting again, but they never got closer than arm's length. It only took a glare to make them back off. If I could have bottled that look, I would have been the wealthiest merchant in the Bazaar.