MA11-12 Myth-ion Improbable Something Myth-Inc

by Robert Asprin

  “Uh... Thanks, Aahz,” I sez, still a little confused by his new, mellow attitude.

  “Other than that, it sounds like you did a good job, Guido. All of you,” he sez. “It’ll be good to have you all back.”

  “Actually,” I sez, “Pookie and Spyder are still out. They’re doin’ a bit more checkin’ on that forest group. I just came in because of the arm. I was gonna talk to the Boss about sendin’ Nunzio out to replace me as their backup man.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Aahz sez. “Again, nice work. I don’t think I’ve ever said it, Guido, but I’ve always admired your professionalism. Nunzio’s, too. For short-lived humans who have never studied magik, you’re both remarkably effective.”

  An apology and a compliment in one conversation. I am now definitely confused, so I counter by changin’ the subject.

  “Thanks, Aahz,” I sez. “So what’s been goin’ on around here? Is the Boss okay?”

  There is another long silence. So long, in fact, that I am startin’ to get scared about what the news is gonna be.

  “I’m afraid Skeeve may be in over his head this time,” Aahz sez at last. “You were right about keeping this rebellion thing from him. He’s confused and desperate enough without fretting about how the hoi polloi are reacting to the situation.”

  I suddenly realize what is goin’ on.

  Aahz is worried about the Boss. Worried big time.

  I always knew that Aahz was fond of his partner, but usually he showed it with bluster and lectures. Seein’ him like this, quietly concerned, makes me realize how deep his feelin’s really ran. It changes my opinion of him... for the better.

  “It’s a tough one, all right,” I sez. “Different than any of the other capers we’ve been in on. Still, I figure the Boss has us to help him, so he’ll probably pull through.”

  “By ‘us’ I assume you mean you and Nunzio,” Aahz sez.

  “Actually,” I sez, “I was talkin’ about the whole M.Y.T.H. Inc. crew, not the least of which includes you. That’s one of the main reasons I got involved with the Mob in the first place, you know. You can only do so much alone. As part of a group, you got teammates to cover your back. Sometimes their strengths can make up for your weaknesses.”

  “I never really thought of it that way,” Aahz sez, “but you’ve got a point.”

  He’s quiet for a while, then opens up again.

  “You know, I almost didn’t come back from Perv,” he sez. “I was settling in and getting ready to work solo again.”

  I didn’t know that, but, as I said, Aahz and I didn’t really talk all that much... and not at all since he and the Boss came back from Perv.

  “What changed your mind?” I sez.

  “The fact that Skeeve came all the way to Perv looking for me, particularly when the team had just been saddled with a rough assignment, was flattering,” he sez. “I thought I’d tag along for one more round to see if I could help.”

  I could see him shake his head in the darkness.

  “So I come back, and look what we’re into,” he sez. “I’ll tell you, Guido, there are some situations that simply can’t be handled with magik or muscle, or even a combination of both.”

  “Like I said, that’s why we have teammates,” I sez. “Friends can help turn a situation around... and even if they can’t, you’re not facin’ the consequences alone.”

  Aahz heaved a big sigh.

  “I guess that’s the answer,” he sez. “Thanks for listening, Guido. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  That is my cue to resume the trek to my room. The conversation with Aahz has given me a lot of food for thought, though.

  I’m almost at my door when I hear voices. Angry voices arguin’ loud.

  The sound is comin’ from the Boss’s room.

  I LISTEN FOR a minute at the door, then knock loudly.

  The Boss answers, half lookin’ back over his shoulder at the man and woman shouting at each other behind him.

  “Is everything okay, Boss?” I sez. “I thought I heard voices.”

  “Sure,” he sez. “It’s just... Guido? What are you doing back? And what happened to your arm?”

  I am payin’ more attention to the battlin’ duo, who do not seem to have noticed my appearance yet. Neither of them is anyone I know as an associate of Skeeve’s. If anything, they look a little foreign... though that might be because of their funny outfits.

  “What’s goin’ on in there, Boss? Who are those two jokers, anyway?”

  I am not likin’ the look of this at all. While Nunzio and me take our bodyguardin’ duties seriously, we usually figure the Boss is safe in his own room.

  “Oh, those are just a couple friends of mine,” he sez. “Well... sort of friends. I thought they were just 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.”

  “Did you say ‘his wife’?”

  “That’s right,” he sez. “Why?”

  That settles it.

  “Get out of here, Boss,” I sez, beckonin’ him through the door.

  “What?”

  As I have noted before, the Boss is often not real quick on the uptake. “Boss, 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...”

  I try to be patient, but enough is enough. Without botherin’ to argue further, I scoop him up with my good arm and carry him out into the corridor before settin’ him down again.

  “Now stay here,” I sez. “Got that? Stay here!”

  I feel a little like Nunzio talkin’ to Gleep, but the message seems to finally get through.

  “Okay, Guido,” he sez. “Here it is.”

  I give him the hairy eyeball for a moment to be sure he means to stay put, then turn and re-enter the room, shutting the door behind me.

  The two continue to ignore me as I decide how to proceed. It is not all that easy to think, as they is makin’ enough noise to drown out a busy kitchen durin’ the lunch rush.

  Finally, I recall watchin’ Nunzio one time, back when he was teachin’, and decide to give one of his techniques a try. Without movin’ any closer or gettin’ between them, I start to clap my hands together as loud as I can. This distracts them, and they turn their attention on me.

  “Who are you and what do you think you’re doing?” the guy with the beard sez.

  “What I am is standin’ between you and the B... Skeeve,” I sez. “What I’m doin’ is shuttin’ down this party.

  “This is a private discussion,” the doll sez. “You have no right interfering.”

  “Yes, ma’am. You’re right,” I sez politely. “It’s a private discussion between the two of you and I think it should be continued in private... not in someone else’s home. Know what I mean?”

  “Oh, come on, dear,” the guy sez. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I think he is gonna head out the door, but instead there’s a BAMPF and he disappears into thin air. She favors me with one last glare, then vanishes with a BAMPF of her own.

  Demons.

  I wait a few moments to be sure they’re gone, then open the door again.

  “You can come in now, Boss.”

  “All right, Guido,” he sez. “What was that all about?”

  Now that the crisis is past, I figure it is wise to revert to my normal polite manner.

  “Sorry to barge in like that, Boss,” I sez. “You know that’s not my normal style.”

  “So what were you doing?”

  “What I was doin’ was my job,” I sez patiently, still a little worked up from the situation. “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?” He gives me a smirk. “C’mon, Guido. They were just arguing. They weren’t even arguing with me. It was a family squabble between the two of them.”

  “Just arguing? What do you think...”

  I pause and take a long, slow breath, tryin’ desperately to get my nerves under control.

  “Sorry, Boss. I’m still a little worked up over that close call. I’ll be all right in a second.”

  “What close call? They were just...”

  “I know, I know. They were just arguin’.”

  I take a deep breath and flex my arms and hands, tryin’ to relax.

  “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.”

  I figure this is as good a time as any to further the Boss’s education, so I elaborate.

  “You see, Boss, people say that guys like Nunzio and me 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 situation.”

  “D & D?” he sez with a frown. “You mean that game you were telling me about with the maps and dice?”

  “No,” I sez, patient-like. “I’m talkin’ 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.”

  “Are you kidding, Guido?” the Boss sez. “What could happen that would be dangerous?”

  “More things than you can imagine,” I sez, grim-like. “That’s what makes them so dangerous. In regular hassles, you can pretty much track what’s goin’ 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 or with what, because they don’t know themselves.”

  “Why do you think that is, Guido? What makes fights between married couples so explosive?”

  “I never really gave it much thought,” I sez. “If I had to give an opinion, I’d say it was due to the motivationals.”

  “The motives?”

  “That, too.” I frown, wonderin’ why he is repeatin’ what I said. “You see, Boss, the business-type disputes which result in violence like I am normally called upon to deal with have origins that are easily comprehended... like greed or fear. That is to say, either Boss A wants somethin’ that Boss B is reluctant to part with, as in a good-sized hunk of revenue-generatin’ property, or Boss B is afraid that Boss A is gonna try to whack him and decides to beat him to the punch. In these situationals, there is a clear-cut objective in mind, and the action is therefore relatively easy to predict and counter. Know what I mean?”

  “I think so,” he sez. “And a domestic disturbance?”

  “That’s where it can get ugly,” I sez with a grimace. “It starts out with people arguin’ when they don’t know why they’re arguin’. What’s at stake there is emotions and hurt feelin’s, not money. The problem with that is that there is no clear-cut objective, and as a result, there is no way of tellin’ when the fightin’ should cease. It just keeps escalatin’ up and up, with both sides dishin’ out and takin’ more and more damage, until each of them is hurt so bad that the only important thing left is to hurt the other one back.”

  I pause and shake my head.

  “When it explodes, you don’t want to be anywhere near ground zero. One will go at the other or they’ll go at each other, with anything that’s at hand. The worst part is, and the reason neither us or the cops want to mess with it, is that if you try to break it up, chances are they’ll both turn on you. You see, mad as they are, they’ll still reflexively protect each other from any outside force... into which category will fall you or anyone else who tries to interfere. That’s why the best policy, if you have a choice at all, is to get away from them and wait until the dust settles before venturin’ close again.”

  “I think I understand now, Guido,” he sez. “Thanks. Now tell me, what happened to your arm? And what are you doing back at the palace?”

  The sudden change of subject catches me off balance.

  “Sorry I didn’t check in as soon as I got back,” I sez, stallin’ for time. “It was late and I thought you were already asleep... until I heard that argument in process, that is. I would have let you know first thing in the morning.”

  “Uh-huh. No problem. But since we’re talking now, what happened?”

  “We ran into a little trouble, is all,” I sez, casual-like. “Nothin’ serious.”

  “Serious enough to put your arm in a sling,” he sez. “So what happened?”

  “If it’s okay with you, Boss, I’d rather not go into details. Truth is, it’s more than a little embarrassin’.”

  “All right,” he sez. “We’ll let it ride for now. Will you be able to work with that arm?”

  “In a pinch, maybe. But not at peak efficiency. That’s really what I wanted to talk to you about, Boss. Is there any chance you can assign Nunzio to be Pookie’s backup while I take over his duties here?”

  “I don’t know, Guido. Nunzio’s been working with Gleep to try to figure out what’s wrong with him. I kind of hate to pull him off that until we get some answers. Tell you what. How about if I talk to Chumley about helping out?”

  “Chumley?” I sez. “I dunno, boss. Don’t you think that him bein’ a troll would tend to scare people in these parts?”

  “Doesn’t Pookie have a disguise spell or something that would soften Chumley’s appearance?” he sez. “I was assuming that she wasn’t wandering around the countryside showing the green scales of a Pervect.”

  “Hey! That’s right! Good idea, Boss. In that case, no problem. Chumley’s as stand-up as they come.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk with him in the morning.”

  “Actually, Chumley’s a better choice than Nunzio,” I sez, warmin’ up to the idea. “Pookie’s still kinda upset about shootin’ me, and Nunzio would probably...”

  “Whoa! Wait a minute. Did you say Pookie shot you?”

  Now I am annoyed with myself. After havin’ successfully dodged the question earlier, I have proceeded to re-introduce the subject all by myself.

  I decide to settle this once and for all by takin’ it on head on... with a bluff.

  “Really, boss,” I sez, hurt-like, drawin’ myself up to my full height. “I thought we agreed that we wasn’t gonna talk about this. Not for a while, anyway.”

  With that I make my exit, with as much dignity as I can muster.

  “NO TROUBLE AT all, old boy. Glad to help. Could use a change of scenery, really.”

  This is Chumley talkin’. I came to see him as soon as I rolled out in the morning to ask him about bein’ backup muscle for Pookie and Spyder. As a Troll, he is probably the strongest, toughest member of our team, next to Nunzio and me, even if he does talk funny when he isn’t workin’.

  “The Boss was sayin’ that Pookie could take care of your appearance with her disguise spell,” I sez.

  “Actually, that won’t be a problem,” he sez. “Little sister left me a gizmo that should handle things. Where did I put that?”

  He rummages around in a drawer and comes up with a device I recognize. I had seen his sister, Tananda, use it when we worked together briefly on our last assignment.

  It looks like one of those mirror-compact rigs that the dolls use, except this one has a couple dials that, if you knew how to manipulate them, could change your appearance just like a d
isguise spell. That much I know. How to use the thing I haven’t a clue.

  “So, you’re all set?” I sez. “When do you figure you can get started?”

  “Oh, there are a couple things I’ve got to finish up first, then I’ll be ready,” he sez. “It would also probably be discreet to wait until I heard officially from Skeeve before embarking. Don’t you think?”

  This takes me a bit aback.

  He’s right, of course. Usually team assignments are handed out by the Boss. The trouble is that havin’ rigged things to investigate the so-called rebellion without clearin’ it with the Boss, plus pretty much captainin’ the team while we were in the field, has gotten me in the habit of independent action. Of course, as I mentioned earlier, in the Mob such habits of independence are not necessarily conducive to one’s continued health.

  “Of course,” I sez, not lettin’ on that I overlooked that loop. “I guess I’m just kinda anxious to get things rollin’ so’s Pookie won’t have to operate too long alone.”

  “From what I’ve seen of Pookie,” Chumley sez, “she seems quite capable of taking care of herself... and several others, besides.”

  I am glad Chumley has not asked for details about my wounded arm. Even though she asked me to do it, I am not really comfortable attributin’ Spyder’s error to Pookie.

  “Well, I’m off to see Massha,” I sez.

  “Tell her ‘Hi’ for me,” he sez. “I may not get a chance to stop and see her before I go. Besides, frankly, I find all her preparations for the wedding to be a little unnerving.”

  “You know,” I sez, shakin’ my head, “I still can’t believe that neither the Boss nor Aahz said anything to me about Massha gettin’ married. I saw both of ‘em when I got in last night, and neither of them even mentioned it.”

  “They both seem to have a lot on their minds these days.” Chumley sez. “Besides, Massha seems to be taking care of the arrangements herself, so they haven’t really been that involved... so far.”

  As I make my way to Massha’s room, however, it occurs to me that this is yet another example of how the way the Boss does things differs so radical-like from other Mob operations. In the regular Mob, a marriage is a major event. Comin’ in second only to the attention they give funerals.