MA08 Myth-Nomers and Im-Pervections

by Robert Asprin

  “But if it would be easier for me if you stayed ... ”

  “That’s right. It’s a contradiction,” Kalvin grinned. “Confusing, isn’t it? Forget right and wrong for a while. What do you want?”

  That one was easy.

  “I’d like you to stay and help me look for Aahz,” I said firmly.

  The Djin smiled and nodded.

  “Not a chance,” he replied.

  “What?”

  “Did I stutter? I said ... ”

  “I know what you said!” I cut him off. “It’s just that you said ... I mean before you said ... ”

  “Oh, there’s no problem in your asking me ... or in your terms. I’m just not going to stay.”

  By now my head was spinning with confusion, but I tried to maintain what little poise I had left.

  “ ... But I thought ... oh, well. I guess I was mistaken.”

  “No, you weren’t. If you had asked me in the first place, I would have stayed.”

  “Then why ... ” I began, but the Djin waved me into silence.

  “I’m sorry, Skeeve. I shouldn’t tease you with head games at a time like this. What changed my mind was something you said while you were explaining why you didn’t ask. You said you were scared and insecure, which is only sane, all things considered. But then you added something about how you were afraid to trust your own judgment and therefore needed someone else along to tell you whether you were right or not.”

  He paused and shook his head.

  “I can’t go along with that. I realized then that if I stayed, I’d fall into the same trap all your other colleagues have ... of inadvertently doing your thinking for you when we express our own opinions. The sad thing is that we aren’t, really. You decide yourself what advice you do and don’t listen to. The trouble is, you only remember when you go against advice and it goes wrong ... like when you got drunk tonight. Any correct judgment calls you assume were made by your ‘advisors.’ Well, you’ve convinced me that you’re a right guy, Skeeve. Now all you have to do is convince yourself. That’s why I’m going to head on back to Djinger and let you work this problem out on your own. Right or wrong, there’ll be no one to take the credit or share the blame. It’s all yours. I’m betting your solution will be right.”

  He held out his hand. I took it and carefully shook hands with this person who had been so much help to me.

  “I ... well, thanks, Kalvin. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

  “It’s been a real pleasure, Skeeve ... really. Good luck in finding our friend. Oh, say ... ”

  He dug something out of his waistband and placed it in my hand. As he released it, it grew into a full-sized business card.

  “That’s my address on Djinger. Stay in touch ... even if it’s just to let me know how this whole thing turns out.”

  “I will,” I promised. “Take care of yourself, Kalvin ... and thanks again!”

  “Oh, and one more thing ... about your having problems with your friends? Forget trying to be strong. Your real strength is in being a warm, caring person. When you try to be strong, it comes across as being cold and insensitive. Think about it.”

  He gave one last wave, folded his arms, and faded from view.

  I stared at the empty space for a few moments, then started the walk back to my hotel alone. I knew where it was ... what I didn’t know was where Djinger was.

  “I HEAR YOU got jumped last night.”

  I paused in mid-move of easing myself into the cab’s back seat to give the cabbie a long stare.

  “ ... And good morning to you, too, Edvick,” I said drily. “Yes, thank you, I slept very well.”

  My sarcasm was not lost on the driver ... a fact for which I was secretly grateful. Sometimes I have cause to wonder about my powers of communication.

  “Hey! Nothing personal. It’s just that people talk, ya know?”

  “No, I don’t ... but I’m learning.”

  It seemed that however large and populated Perv appeared to be, there was a thriving network of gossip lurking just out of sight.

  I had come down early, hoping to have a chance to talk with J. R., but between my room and the front door I had been stopped by two bellhops and the desk clerk, all of whom knew that I had been in a fight the night before. Of course, they each expressed their sympathies ... in varying degrees. As I recall, the desk clerk’s sympathy went something like “You’re welcome to use the hotel safe for your valuables, sir ... but we can’t accept responsibility for any losses.”

  Terrific!!

  I had rapidly discovered that I wasn’t wild about the idea of my escapade being discussed by the general populace, especially not since it ended with a session with the police.

  Even though he had noted my displeasure at discussing the prior night’s incident, Edvick seemed determined not to let the subject die as we started on our way.

  “I told you, you should have gotten a bodyguard,” he lectured. “Carrying that kind of cash around is just askin’ for trouble.”

  “Funny, the police said the same thing ... about the cash, I mean.”

  “Well, they’re right ... for a change. Things are dangerous enough around here without drawing unnecessary attention to yourself.”

  I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. I hadn’t slept well, but the brief time I had spent in a horizontal position had allowed my muscles to tighten, and I ached all over.

  “So, I discovered,” I said. “Oh well, it’s over now. Besides, I didn’t do such a bad job of taking care of myself.”

  “The way I heard it, someone showed up to help bail you out,” Edvick pointed out bluntly, “and even then it was touch and go. Don’t kid yourself about it being over, though. You’d just better hope your luck holds the next time.”

  Suddenly, my aching muscles were no longer the main claim to my attention.

  “Next time?” I said, sitting up straight. “What next time?”

  “I don’t want to sound pessimistic,” the cabbie shrugged, “but I figure it’s a given. Those guys you messed up are going to be back on the street today, and will probably devote a certain amount of their time and energy trying to find you for a rematch.”

  “You think so?”

  “Then again, even if I’m wrong, the word is out that you’re carrying a good sized wad around with you. That’s going to make you fair game for every cheap hoodlum looking to pick up some quick cash.”

  I hadn’t stopped to consider it, but what Edvick was saying made sense. All I needed to make my mission more difficult was to have to be watching my back constantly at the same time!

  “I’m sorry, what was that again?” I said, trying to concentrate on what the driver was saying.

  “Huh? Oh, I was just sayin’ again that what you should really do is hire a bodyguard ... same as I’ve been sayin right along.”

  He had been saying that all along, and Kalvin had agreed with him. I had poo-pooed the idea originally, but now I was forced to reexamine my stance on the matter.

  “Nnnnno,” I said, finally, talking to myself. “I can’t do it.”

  “Why not?” Edvick chimed in, adding his two cents to the argument drawing to a close in my mind.

  “Well, the most overpowering reason is that I can’t afford one.”

  The cabbie snorted.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. With the money you’ve got?”

  “It may seem like a lot, but nearly all of it is already committed to you and the hotel.”

  The cab swerved dangerously as Edvick turned in his seat to stare at me.

  “You mean that’s all the money you have? You’re carrying your whole bankroll?”

  As upset as I was, that thought made me laugh.

  “Not hardly,” I said. “The trouble is that most of my money is back on Deva. I only brought som
e of it along for pocket expenses. Unfortunately I badly underestimated what the prices would be like here, so I have to keep an eye on my expenses.”

  “Oh, that’s no problem,” the cabbie retorted, turning his attention to the road again. “Just open a line of credit here.”

  “Do what?

  “Talk to a bank and borrow what you need against your assets. That’s how I came up with the money for this cab ... not to mention my other ventures. Sheese! If everybody tried to operate on a cash basis, it would ruin the dimension’s economy!”

  “I don’t know,” I hesitated. “Nobody on this dimension really knows me. Do you really think a bank would be willing to trust me with a loan?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Edvick shrugged. “Tell you what ... there’s a branch of my bank not far from here. Why don’t you pop in and talk to them? You might be surprised.”

  The bank itself was not particularly imposing; a medium-sized storefront with a row of teller windows and a few scattered desks. Some doors in the back wall presumably led to offices and the vault, but they were painted assorted bright colors and in themselves did not appear particularly ominous. Still, I realized I felt no small degree of nervousness as I surveyed the interior. There were small clues here and there which bespoke a seriousness which belied the studied casualness of the decor. Little things, like the machines mounted high in the corners which constantly swept the room as if monitoring the movements of both tellers and customers. The tellers themselves were secure behind high panes of innocent-looking glass, doing business through an ingenious slot and drawer arrangement at each station. An observant person such as myself, however, could not help but notice that if the degree of distortion were any indication, the glass was much thicker than it might first appear. There were also armed guards scattered around the room draped with an array of weapons which did not look at all ceremonial or decorative. There was a great deal of money here, and an equally great effort was being made to be sure no one decided to simply help themselves to the surplus.

  I had a hunch the kind of business I had in mind would not be handled over the counter by a teller, and, sure enough, when I inquired, I was ushered immediately through one of the brightly painted doors into a private office.

  The individual facing me across the desk rose and extended a hand in greeting as I entered. He was impeccably dressed in a business suit of what could only be called a conservative cut ... particularly for a Pervect, and he oozed a sincere warmth that bordered on oily. Green scales and yellow eyes notwithstanding, he reminded me of Grimble, the Chancellor of the Exchequer I had feuded with back at Possiltum. I wondered briefly if this was common with professional money guardians. Everywhere ... maybe it was something in the ledger paper. If so, it boded ill for my dealing today ... Grimble and I never really got along.

  “Come in, come in,” the individual purred. “Please, have a seat Mister ... ?”

  “Skeeve,” I said, sinking into the indicated chair. “And it’s just ‘Skeeve,’ not Mr. Skeeve.”

  I had never been wild about the formality of “Mister” title, and after having it hissed at me by the police the night before, I was developing a positive aversion to it.

  “Of course, of course,” he nodded, reseating himself. “My name is Malcolm.”

  Perhaps it was his similarity to Grimble, but I was finding his habit of repeating himself to be a growing annoyance. I reminded myself that I was trying to court his favor and made an effort to shake the feeling off.

  “ ... And how can we be of service to you today?”

  “Well, Malcolm, I’m a businessman visiting here on Perv,” I said, aware as I spoke that I was unconsciously falling into a formal speech pattern. “My expenses have been running a bit higher than I anticipated, and frankly my ready cash supply is lower than I find comfortable. Someone suggested that I might open a line of credit with your bank, so I stopped in to see if there was any possibility we might work something out.”

  “I see.”

  He ran his eyes over me, and much of the warmth went out of the room. I was suddenly acutely aware of how I was dressed.

  After overdressing for my interview with the Butterfly, I had decided to stick with my normal, comfortable, informal appearance. I had anticipated that bankers would be more conservative than financiers, and that a bank would probably be equipped to detect disguise spells, so it would be wisest if I was as open and honest as possible. Courtesy of a crash course by Bunny, my administrative assistant, on how to dress, my wardrobe was nothing to be embarrassed about, but I probably didn’t look like most of the businessmen Malcolm was used to dealing with. His visual assessment of me reminded me of the once-over I would get when encountering a policeman ... only more so. I had a feeling the banker could tell me how much money I had in my pockets down to the loose change.

  “What line of work did you say you were in, Mister Skeeve?”

  I noted that the “Mister” had reappeared, but wasn’t up to arguing over it.

  “I’m a magician ... Well, actually I’m the president of an association of magicians ... a corporation.”

  I managed to stop there before I started babbling. I’ve noticed a tendency in myself to run on when I’m nervous.

  “ ... And the name of your corporation?”

  “Um ... M.Y.T.H. Inc.”

  He jotted the information down on a small notepad. “Your home offices are on Klah?”

  “No. We operate out of Deva ... at the Bazaar.”

  He glanced up at me with his eyebrows raised, then caught himself and regained his composure.

  “Would you happen to know what bank you deal with on Deva?”

  “Bank? I mean, not really. Aahz and Bunny ... our financial section usually handles that end of the business.”

  Any hope I had of a credit line went out the window. I didn’t know for sure we did any banking. Aahz was a stickler for keeping our funds readily available. I couldn’t imagine a bank wanting to deal with someone who didn’t trust banks, or to take my word for what our cash holdings were ... even if I knew what they were.

  The banker was studying his notes.

  “Of course, you understand we’ll have to run a check on this.”

  I started to rise. At this point all I wanted was out of his office.

  “Certainly,” I said, trying to maintain a modicum of poise. “How long will that take, just so I’ll know when to contact you again?”

  Malcolm waved a casual hand at me as he turned to a keyboard at the side of his desk.

  “Oh, it won’t take any time at all. I’ll just use the computer to take a quick peek. I should have an answer in a couple of seconds.”

  I couldn’t make up my mind whether to be astonished or concerned. Astonished won out.

  “ ... But my office is on Deva,” I said, repeating myself unnecessarily.

  “Quite right,” the banker responded absently as he hammered busily on the keys. “Fortunately, computers and cats can see and work right through dimensional barriers. The trick is to get them to do it when you want them to instead of when they feel like it.”

  Of the assorted thoughts which whirled in my mind at this news, only one stood out.

  “Do the police have computers?”

  “Not of this quality or capacity.” He favored me with a smug, tight-lipped smile. “Civil services don’t have access to the same financial resources that banks do ... Ah! Here we go.”

  He leaned forward and squinted at the computer’s screen, which I couldn’t see from where I sat. I wondered if it was coincidence that the view was blocked from the visitor’s chair, then decided it was a silly question.

  “Impressive. Very impressive indeed,” he shot a glance at me. “Might I ask who handles your portfolio?”

  “My portfolio? I’m not an artist. I’m a magician ... like I told you.”


  “An artist. That’s a good one, Skeeve ... you don’t mind if I call you Skeeve, do you?” the banker laughed as if we shared a mutual joke. “I meant your portfolio of stocks and investments.”

  His original warmth had returned ... and then some. Whatever he had seen on the screen had definitely improved his opinion of me.

  “Oh. That would be Bunny. She’s my administrative assistant.”

  “I hope you pay her well. Otherwise some other outfit might be tempted to swoop down and hire her away from you.”

  From his tone, I could make a pretty good guess as to which outfit might be interested in doing just that.

  “Among other things, she holds stock in our operation,” I said pointedly.

  “Of course, of course. Just a thought. Well Mis ... Skeeve, I’m sure we can provide you with adequate financial support during your stay on Perv. What’s more, I hope you’ll be sufficiently impressed with our service that you’ll keep us in mind should you ever want to open an office here and need to open a local account.”

  Pervects have an exceptional number of teeth, and Malcolm seemed determined to show all of his to me without missing a syllable. I was starting to get impressed myself. I had known our operation was doing well, but had never stopped to assess exactly how well. If the banker’s reaction was an accurate gauge, however, we must have been doing very well indeed!

  “If you’ll give me just a moment here, Skeeve,” he said, lunging out of his seat and heading for the door, “I’ll get the staff started while we fill out the necessary paperwork. We should be able to have some imprinted checks and one of our special, solid gold credit cards ready for you before you leave.”

  “Hold it, Malcolm!”

  Things were suddenly starting to move uncomfortably fast, and I wanted a bit of clarification before they went much further.

  The banker stopped as if he had hit the end of an invisible leash. “Yes?”