Sween Myth-tery of Life m-10

by Robert Asprin

  My other reaction was far less predictable. Maybe it was because I had been thinking so much about women and marriage lately, but, while watching her demonstrating her shape shifting skills, it popped into my head that she would be an interesting wife. I mean, think of it: a woman who could assume any size, shape, or personality at will! It would certainly ease the fears of being bored living with one woman for the rest of your life.

  "Very impressive," I said, forcing my previous train of thought to a halt. "Tell me, have you ever considered a career in modeling?"

  Daphnie's eyes narrowed for a moment, then her face relaxed again.

  "I'll assume that was meant as a compliment. Right?" she said.

  That one had me really confused.

  "Of course," I said. "Why? Isn't it?"

  "I'm so attractive, I could make a living at it. Is that what you were thinking?"

  "Well ... Yes. Even though when you put it that way, it does sound a little dubious."

  "You don't know the half of it," the Djeanie said, rolling her eyes.

  "Look, Skeeve. I tried that game once . , . and you're right, I can do it and there's good money in it. It's what goes with it that's a pain."

  "I don't understand," I admitted.

  "First of all, even though the job may look glamourous from the outside, it isn't. It's long hours in uncomfortable conditions, you know? I mean, it's fun for most people to go to the beach, but try sitting in the same spot for six hours while waves break over you so the jerk photographer can get 'just the right look and -lighting' ... and even then more often than not they don't use the shot."

  I nodded sympathetically, all the while wondering what a photographer was and why she would hold still while he shot at her.

  "Then again folks think there's a lot of status attached to being a model." she continued. "There's about as much status as being a side of beef on a butcher's block. You may be the center of attention, but to the people working with you, you're just so many pounds of meat to be positioned and marketed. Now mind you, I like having my body touched as much as the next woman, but I like to think that while it's going on, whoever's doing it is thinking of me. The way it is, it's like you're a mannequin or a puppet being maneuvered for effect."

  "Uh-huh," I said, thinking that if I ever got a chance to touch her body, I'd certainly be keeping my mind on her in the process.

  "Of course, there's always the job of keeping the equipment in shape. Most women feel they'd look better if they lost a couple pounds or firmed up the muscle tone ... and they even work at it occasionally. Well, let me tell you, when your livelihood depends on your looks, keeping the bod in shape is more than a leisure-time hobby. It's a full-time project. Your whole life is centered around diets and exercise, not to mention maintaining your complexion and hair. Sure, I have an advantage because I can shape shift, but believe me, the less you have to do magikally, the less strain you put on the system and the longer the machine lasts.

  "Which brings up another point: Whatever you do to maintain your looks, it's a losing fight with time. Djeanies may have a longer life span than some of the women from other dimensions, but eventually age catches up with everyone. Strategic features that once used to catch the eye start to droop and sag, the skin on the neck and hands starts to look more and more like wet tissue paper, and faster than you can say 'old crone/ you're back out the door and they've replaced you from the bottomless pool of young hopefuls. Terrific, huh?"

  That one made me think a bit. One thing about being a magician was that age wasn't a prime factor. Heck, for a while when I was starting out, I used my disguise spell to make myself look older because no one would believe that a young magician would be any good. The idea of losing one's job simply because one had grown older was a terrifying concept. I found myself being glad that most jobs didn't have the age restrictions that modeling seemed to.

  "Then, just to top things off," the Djeanie said, "there's the minor detail of how people treat you. Most men are intimidated by your looks and won't come near you on a bet. They'll stare and drool, and maybe fantasize a little, but they won't try to date you. Unless they have stellar looks themselves or an iron-clad ego, they're afraid of creating a 'Beauty and the Beast' comparison. The ones who do come on to you usually have a specific scenario in mind ... and that doesn't involve you either talking or thinking at all. They want an ornament, and if there's actually a person inside that glamourous package, they're not only surprised, they're a little annoyed."

  She sighed and shook her head.

  "Sorry to ramble like that, but it's a pet peeve of mine. When you stop to think about it, it's a little sad to think of women who feel that all they have to offer the world is their looks. Personally, I like to think I have more to offer than that."

  Taking a deep breath, she blew it all out noisily, then smiled and cocked her head at me.

  "Um ... How about if I just say that I think you look fantastic, and forget about speculating on your potential as a model?" I said cautiously.

  "Then I'd say 'Thank you, kind sir'. You aren't so bad looking yourself."

  She smiled and made a small curtsey. I successfully resisted an impulse to bow back to her.

  Mostly, I was trying to think of what we could talk about next, having exhausted the subject of beauty.

  "So, how do you know Kalvin?" Daphnie said, solving the problem for me. "He made it sound like the two of you were old buddies."

  Now we were back on familiar footing.

  "Actually, I bought him over at the Bazaar at Deva. Well, to be accurate, I bought his bottle. I only was entitled to one wish from him ... but I don't need to explain that to you. You probably know the drill better than I do. I didn't get to know him until a couple years later when I got around to opening the bottle."

  "I don't understand," she said, frowning prettily. "Why did you buy his bottle if you weren't going to use it for several years?"

  "Why I bought it in the first place is a long story," I said, rolling my eyes comically. "As to why I didn't use it for so long, I'm part of a fairly impressive team of magik users ... the head of it, actually. We do a pretty good job of handling most problems that come up on our own without calling on outside help."

  Okay. So I was blowing my own trumpet a bit. Even though I didn't know if anything would ever develop between us, she was cute enough that I figured that it couldn't hurt to impress her a little.

  "So he was with you the whole time? From when you purchased his bottle until his discharged his duty on Perv? When was that, exactly?"

  She didn't seem very impressed. If anything, it was as if she was more interested in asking questions about Kalvin than in learning about me, a situation I found slightly annoying.

  "Oh, it wasn't all that long ago," I said. "Just a couple weeks back, in fact. Of course, time doesn't advance at the same rate on all the dimensions ... as I'm sure you know."

  "True," she said, thoughtfully. "Tell me, did he say he was going straight back to Dijinger? Or was he going to stop somewhere along the way, first?"

  "Let me think. As I recall, he didn't ... Wait a minute. Didn't he make it back to Djinger? I thought you said that he was the one who told you to look me up."

  I was both concerned and confused. If Daphnie was looking for Kalvin, then how had she found out about me? I didn't know any other Djins ... or anyone who traveled to Djinger on a regular basis.

  "Oh, he made it back all right," she shrugged. "I was just a little curious about ..."

  There was a soft BAMF, and a second Djin materialized in the room. This one I recognized immediately as Kalvin, who I had just been speaking to Daphnie about. I could tell at a glance, though, that something was wrong.

  Chapter Fifteen:

  "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall take flack from both sides."

  UNOFFICIAL UN MOTTO

  I HAD GOTTEN to know Kalvin pretty well during my trip to Perv, and all through that adventure he had been as unshakable in a crisis as any
one I had ever known. Now, however, he was exhibiting all the classic symptoms of someone who was about to lose control of his temper ... clenched teeth, furrowed brow, tight expression, the works.

  Fortunately, his anger seemed to be directed at my guest rather than at me.

  "I should have known!" he snarled, without so much as a nod to acknowledge my presence. "I should have checked here first as soon as I found out you were gone."

  It occurred to me that, as little as I knew about Djins, that it could be markedly unhealthy to have one upset with you. Realizing that magik, like a knife, could be used both benevolently or destructively, my first instinct probably would have been to try to calm him down quickly ... or to vacate the premises.

  To my surprise, however, the Djeanie spun around and leveled what seemed to be an equal amount of anger back at him.

  "Oh, I see," she spat back. "It's all right for you to disappear for years at a time, but as soon as I step out the door, you've got to come looking for me!"

  The interest I had been feeling in Daphnie came to a screeching halt. In the space of a few seconds her personality had changed from a flirtatious coquette to a shrill shrew. Then, too, there seemed to be more to her relationship with Kalvin than just an "acquaintance" as she had billed it.

  "That was business," the Djin was saying, still nose to nose with my visitor. "You know, the stuff that puts food on the table for our whole dimension? Besides, if you were just going out to kick up your heels a bit I wouldn't care. What I DO mind is your sneaking off to check up on me."

  "So what? It shouldn't bother you ... unless you haven't been telling me everything, that is."

  "What bothers me is that you can't bring yourself to believe me," Kalvin shot back. "Why do you even bother asking me anything if you aren't going to believe I'm telling you the truth?"

  "I used to believe everything you told me. YOU taught me how stupid that was. Remember?"

  This seemed to be going nowhere fast, so I summoned my courage and stepped forward to intervene.

  "Excuse me, but I thought you two were friends."

  Kalvin broke off his arguing to spare me a withering look.

  "Friends? Is that what she told you?"

  He rounded on the Djeanie again.

  "You know, babe, for someone who keeps accusing me of lying, you play pretty fast and loose with the truth yourself!"

  "Don't be silly," the Djeanie said. "If I had told him I was your wife, he would have just covered for you. You think I don't know how you men lie to protect each other?"

  "Wait a minute," I interrupted. "Did you say 'wife'? Are you two married?"

  Whatever was left of my interest in Daphnie died without a whimper.

  "Sure," Kalvin said with a grimace. "Can't you tell by the loving and affection we shower on each other? Of course we're married. Do you think either of us would put up with this abuse from a stranger?"

  He gave a brief shake of his head, and for a moment seemed to almost return to normal.

  "By the way, Skeeve, good to see you again," he said, flashing a tight smile. "Sorry to have forgotten my manners, but I get ... Anyway, even though it may be a bit late, I'd like to introduce you to my wife, Daphnie."

  "Well, at lest now I know what it takes to be introduced to one of your business friends."

  And they were off again.

  There was a knock on the door.

  I answered it, thinking as I did that it was nice to know at least a few people who came into my room the normal way ... which is to say, by the door ... instead of simply popping in unannounced.

  "Is everything okay, Boss? I thought I heard voices."

  "Sure," I said, "it's just ... Guido?"

  My mind had to grapple with several images and concepts simultaneously, and it wasn't doing so hot. First was the realization that Guido was back from his mission as a special tax envoy. Second, that he had his arm in a sling.

  The latter probably surprised me more than the former. After all our time together, I had begun to believe that my bodyguards were all but invulnerable. It was a little unsettling to be reminded that they could be hurt physically like anyone else.

  "What are you doing back?" I said. "And what happened to your arm?"

  Instead of answering, he peered suspiciously past me at the arguing Djins.

  "What's goin' on in there, Boss?" he demanded. "Who are those two jokers, anyway?"

  I was a little surprised that he could hear and see my visitors, but then I remembered that it's only while a Djin is under contract that he or she can only be seen and heard by the holder of their bottle.

  "Oh, those are just a couple friends of mine," I said. "Well ... sort of friends. I thought they were dropping by to say 'Hi,' but, as you can see, things seem to have gotten a little out of hand. The one with the beard is Kalvin, and the lady he's arguing with is his wife, Daphnie."

  I thought it was a fairly straightforward explanation, but Guido recoiled as if I had struck him.

  "Did you say 'his wife'?"

  "That's right. Why?"

  My bodyguard stepped forward to place himself between me and the arguing couple.

  "Get out of here, Boss," he said quietly.

  "What?"

  At first I thought I had misunderstood him.

  "Boss," he hissed with aggravated patience. "I'm your bodyguard. Right? Well, as your bodyguard and the one currently responsible for the well bein' of your continued health, I'm tellin' you to get out of here!"

  "But ..."

  Apparently Guido wasn't willing to debate the point further. Instead, he scooped me up with his good arm and carried me out the door into the corridor, where he deposited me none too gently against the wall beside the doorway.

  "Now stay here," he said, shaking a massive finger in my face. "Got that? Stay here!"

  I recognized the tone of his voice. It was the same as when I tried to give Gleep a simple command ... for the third or fourth time after he had been steadfastly ignoring me. I decided I would try to prove that I was smarter than my pet by actually following orders.

  "Okay, Guido," I said, with a curt nod. "Here it is."

  He hesitated for a moment, eyeing me as if to see if I was going to make a break for the door. Then he gave a little nod of satisfaction, turned, and strode into my room, closing the door behind him.

  While I couldn't make out the exact words, I heard the arguing voices cease for a moment. Then they were raised again in angry chorus, punctuated by Guido's voice saying something. Then there was silence.

  After a few long moments of stillness, the door opened again.

  "You can come in now, Boss," my bodyguard announced. "They're gone."

  I left my post by the wall and re-entered my room. A quick glance around was all it took to confirm my bodyguard's claim. The Djins had departed for destinations unknown. Surprisingly enough, my immediate reaction was to be a little hurt that they hadn't bothered to say goodbye.

  I also realized that I wanted a goblet of wine, but suppressed the desire. Instead, I perched on the side of the bed.

  "All right, Guido," I said. "What was that all about?"

  "Sorry to barge in like that, Boss," my bodyguard said, not looking at all apologetic. "You know that's not my normal style."

  "So what were you doing?"

  "What I was doin' was my job," he retorted. "As your bodyguard, I was attemptin' to protect you from bein' hurt or maybe even killed. It's what you pay me for, accordin' to my job description."

  "Protecting me? From those two? Com'on, Guido. They were just arguing. They weren't even arguing with me. It was a family squabble between the two of them."

  "Just arguing!" my bodyguard said, looming over me. "What do you think ..."

  He broke off suddenly and stepped back, breathing heavy.

  I was genuinely puzzled. I couldn't recall having seen Guido more upset, but I really couldn't figure out what was bothering him.

  "Sorry, Boss," he said finally, in a more normal tone
. "I'm still a little worked up after that close call. I'll be all right in a second."

  "What close call?" I pressed. "They were just ..."

  "I know, I know," he said, waving me to silence. "They were just arguing."

  He took a deep breath and flexed his arms and hands.

  "You know, Boss, I keep forgettin' how inexperienced you are. I mean, you may be tops in the magik department, but when it comes to my specialty, which is to say rough and tumble stuff, you're still a babe in the woodwork."

  A part of me wanted to argue this, since I had been in some pretty nasty scrapes over the years, but I kept my mouth shut. Guido and his cousin Nunzio were specialists, and if nothing else over the years I've learned to respect expertise.

  "You see, Boss, people say that guys like me and Nunzio are not really all that different from the cops ... that it's the same game on different sides of the line. I dunno. It may be true. What I am sure of, though, is that both we and our counterparts agree on one thing: The most dangerous situation to stick your head into ... the situation most likely to get you dead fast ... isn't a shoot-out or a gang war. It's an ordinary D&D scenario."

  "D&.D," I frowned. "You mean that game you were telling me about with the maps and the dice?"

  "No. I'm takin' about a 'domestic disturbance.' A family squabble ... just like you had goin' on here when I came in. They're deadly, Boss. Especially one between a husband and wife."

  I wanted to laugh, but he seemed to be utterly serious about what he was saying.

  "Are you kidding, Guido?" I said. "What could happen that would be dangerous?"

  "More things than you can imagine," he replied. "That's what makes them so dangerous. In regular hassles, you can pretty much track what's going on and what might happen next. Arguments between a husband and wife are unpredictable, though. You can't tell who's gonna swing at who, when or with what, because they don't know themselves."

  I was beginning to believe what he was saying. The concept was both fascinating and frightening.