Myth-Nomers & Im-Pervections

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Myth-Nomers & Im-Pervections Page 8

by Robert Asprin


  The Butterfly did not live up to any of my preconceived notions or fears about what a financier was like. First of all, instead of an imposing office lined with shelves full of leather-bound books and incomprehensible charts, it seemed he worked out of his apartment, which proved to be smaller than my own office, though much more tastefully furnished, Secondly, he was dressed quite casually in a pair of slacks and a pastel-colored sweater, that actually made me feel uncomfortably overdressed in my disguise-spell generated suit. Fortunately, his manner itself was warm and friendly enough to put me at my ease almost immediately.

  "Pleased to meet you...Skeeve, isn't it?" he said, extending a hand for a handshake.

  "Yes. I...I'm sorry to impose on your schedule like this..."

  "Nonsense. Glad to help. That's why I'm self-employed...so I can control my own schedule. Please. Have a seat and make yourself at home."

  Once we were seated, however, I found myself at a loss as to how I should begin the conversation. But, with the Butterfly watching me with attentive expectation, I felt I had to say something.

  "Um...Edvik tells me you met at an art auction?"

  "That's right...though I'll admit that for me it was more of a whim than anything else. Edvik is really much more the collector and connoisseur than I am."

  The cabbie preened visibly under the implied praise.

  "No. I just dropped by out of curiosity. I had heard that this particular auction had a reputation for being a lot of fun, so I pulled a couple thousand out of the bank and wandered in to see for myself. The auctioneers were amusing, and the bidding was lively, but most of the art being offered didn't go with my current decor. So when that one particular item came up..."

  I tried to keep an interested face on, but my mind wasn't on his oration. Instead, I kept pondering the easy way he had said "...so I pulled a couple thousand..." Clearly this was a different kind of Pervect than Aahz was. My old partner would have been more willing to casually part with a couple pints of his blood than with gold.

  "...But in the long run it worked out fine."

  The Butterfly was finishing his tale, and I laughed dutifully along with him.

  "Tell him about your friend, Skeeve."

  "That's right. Here I've been rattling on and we haven't even started to address your problem," the financier nodded, shifting forward on his chair. "Edvik said you were trying to locate someone who might have been active in our financial circles."

  "I'm not sure you'll be able to help," I began, grateful for not having to raise the subject myself. "He's been off-dimension for several years now. His name is Aahz."

  The Butterfly pursed his lips thoughtfully.

  "The name doesn't ring any bells. Of course, in these days of nesting corporations and holding companies, names don't really mean much. Can you tell me anything about his style?"

  "His style?"

  "How would you describe his approach to money? Is he a plunger? A dabbler?"

  I had to laugh at that. "Well, the words 'tight-fisted' and 'penny-pinching' are the first that come to mind."

  "There's 'tight-fisted' and there's 'cautious,' " the Butterfly smiled. "Perhaps you'd better tell me a little about him, and let me try to extract and analyze the pertinent parts."

  So I told him. Once I had gotten started, the words seemed to come rushing out in a torrent.

  I told him about meeting Aahz when he got stranded on my home dimension of Klah after a practical joke gone awry robbed him of his magikal powers, and how he took me on as an apprentice after we stymied Isstvan's plan to take over the dimensions. I told him about how Aahz had convinced me to try out for the position of Court Magician for the kingdom of Possiltum, and how that had led to our confrontation with Big Julie's army as well as introducing me to the joys of bureaucratic in-fighting. He clucked sympathetically when I told him about how Tananda and I had tried to steal the trophy from the Big Game as a birthday present for Aahz. and how we had had to put together a team to challenge the two existing teams after Tananda got caught. He was amused by my rendition of how I got stuck masquerading as Roderick, the king, and how I got Massha as an apprentice, though he seemed most interested in the part about how we broke up the Mob's efforts to move into the Bazaar at Deva and ended up working for both sides of the same brawl. I even told him about our brief sortie into Limbo when Aahz got framed for murdering a vampire, and my even briefer career into the arena of professional Dragon Poker which pitted my friends and me against the Sen-Sen Ante Kid and the Ax. Finally, I tried to explain how we expanded our operation into a corporation, ending with how Aahz had walked out, leaving a note behind stating that, without his powers, he felt he was needless baggage to the group.

  The Butterfly listened to it all, and, when I finally ground to a halt, he remained motionless for many long minutes, apparently digesting what he had heard.

  "Well, one thing I can tell you," he said at last. "Your friend isn't a financier...here on Perv, or anywhere else, for that matter."

  "He isn't? But he's always talking about money."

  "Oh, there's more to being a financier than talking about money," the Butterfly laughed. "The whole idea is to put one's money to work through investments. If anything, this Aahz's hoarding techniques would indicate that he's pretty much an amateur when it comes to money. You, on the other hand, by incorporating and diversifying through holdings in other businesses, show marked entrepreneurial tendencies. Perhaps sometime we might talk a bit about mutual investment opportunities."

  I suppose it was all quite flattering, and under other circumstances I might have been happy to chat at length with the Butterfly about money management. Unfortunately, I couldn't escape the disappointment of the bottom line...that he wouldn't be able to give me any information that would help me locate Aahz.

  "Thanks, but right now I think I'd better focus on one thing at a time, and my current priority is finding my old partner."

  "Well, sorry I couldn't have been of more assistance," the financier said, rising to his feet. "One thing, though, Skeeve, if you don't mind a little advice?"

  "What's that?"

  "You might try to take a bit more of an active role in your own life. You know...instead of reactive?"

  That one stopped me short as I was reaching for the door.

  "Excuse me?"

  "Nothing. It was just a thought."

  "Well, could you elaborate a little? C'mon, Butterfly! Don't drop a line like that on me without some kind of an explanation to go with it."

  "It's really none of my business," he shrugged, "but I couldn't help but notice during your story that you seemed to be living your life reacting to crisis rather than having any real control over things. Your old partner and mentor got dropped in your lap and the two of you teamed up to stop someone who might try to assassinate either of you next. It was Aahz who forced you to try for the job as court magician, and ever since then you've been yielding to pressure, real or perceived, from almost everybody in your life:

  Tananda, Massha, the Mob, the Devan Chamber of Commerce...even whatzisname, Grimble and that Badaxe have leaned on you. It just seems to me that for someone as successful as you obviously are, you really haven't shown much gumption or initiative."

  His words hit me like a bucket of cold water. I had been shouted out by experts, but somehow Butterfly's calm criticism cut me deeper than any tongue-lashing I had ever received from Aahz.

  "Things have been kind of scrambled..." I started, but the financier cut me off.

  "I can see that, and I don't mean to tell you how to run your life. You've had some strong-willed, dominating people who have been doing just that, though, and I'd have to say the main offender has been this fellow, Aahz. Now, I know you're concerned about your friendship, but if I were you, I'd think long and hard about inviting him back into my life until I had gotten my own act together."

  Chapter Eleven

  "How come I get all the hard questions?"

  -O. North

  "S
KEEVE! HEY, SKEEVE! Can ya ease up for a bit?"

  The words finally penetrated my self-imposed fog and I slackened my pace, letting Kalvin catch up with me.

  "Whew! Thanks," the Djin said, hovering in his now-accustomed place. "I told you before I'm not real strong. Even hovering takes energy, ya know. You were really moving there."

  "Sorry," I responded curtly, more out of habit than anything else.

  In all honesty, the Djin's comfort was not a high priority item in my mind just then. I had had Edvik drive us back to the hotel after we left the Butterfly's place. Instead of going on up to my room, however, I had headed off down the sidewalk. The street vendor I had spoken to earlier waved a friendly greeting, but I barely acknowledged it with a curt nod of my head. The Butterfly's observations on my life had loosed an explosion of thoughts in my mind, and I figured maybe a brisk walk would help me sort things out.

  I don't know how long I walked before Kalvin's plea snapped me out of my mental wheel-spinning. I had only vague recollections of shouldering my way past slower-moving pedestrians and snarling at those who were quick enough to get out of my path on their own. The police would have been pleased to witness it...only on Perv two days and already I could walk down the street like a native.

  "Look, do you want to talk about this? Maybe some place sitting down?"

  I looked closer at the Djin. He really did look tired, his face streaked with sweat and his little chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Strange, I didn't feel like I had been exerting myself at all.

  "Talk about what?" I said, realizing as I spoke that the words were coming out forced and tense.

  "Come on, Skeeve. It's obvious that what the Butterfly said back there has you upset. I don't know why, it sounded like pretty good advice to me, but maybe talking it out would help a bit."

  "Why should I be upset?" I snapped. "He only challenged all the priorities I've been living by and suggested that my best friend is probably the worst thing in my life. Why should that bother me?"

  "It shouldn't," Kalvin responded innocently, "unless, of course, he's right. Then I could see why it would bother you."

  I opened my mouth for an angry retort, then shut it again. I really couldn't think of anything to say. The Djin had just verbalized my worst fears, ones I didn't have any answers for.

  "...And running away from it won't help! You're going to have to face up to it before you're any good to yourself...or anyone else, for that matter."

  Kalvin's voice came from behind me, and I realized I had picked up my pace again. At the same moment, I saw that he was right, I was trying to run away from the issues, both figuratively and literally. With that knowledge, the fatigue of my mental and physical efforts hit me all at once and I sagged, slowing to a stop on the sidewalk.

  "That's better. Can we talk now?"

  "Sure. Why not? I feel like getting something in my stomach, anyway."

  The Djin gave a theatrical wince.

  "Ootch! You mean we're going to try to find a restaurant again? Remember what happened the last time?"

  In spite of myself I had to smile at his antics.

  "As a matter of fact, I was thinking more on the order of getting something to drink."

  While I spoke, I was casting about for a bar. One thing about Perv I had noticed, you never seemed to be out of sight of at least one establishment that served alcoholic beverages. This spot proved to be no exception, and now that I was more attuned to my environment, I discovered just such a place right next to where we were standing.

  "This looks like as good a spot as any," I said, reaching for the door. "C'mon, Kalvin, I'll buy the first round."

  It was meant as a joke, because I hadn't seen the Djin eat or drink anything since I released him from the bottle. He seemed quite agitated at the thought, however, hanging back instead of moving with me.

  "Wait, Skeeve, I don't think we should..."

  I didn't dally to hear the rest. What the heck, this had been his idea...sort of. Fighting a sudden wave of irritation, I pushed on into the bar's interior.

  At first glance, the place looked a little seedy. Also the second and third glances, though it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. It was small, barely big enough to hold the half-dozen tiny tables that crowded the floor. Sagging pictures and clippings adorned the walls, though what they were about specifically I couldn't tell through the grime obscuring their faces. There was a small bar with stools along one wall, where three tough-looking patrons crouched hunched forward in conversation with the bartender. They ceased talking and regarded me briefly with cold, unfriendly stares as I surveyed the place, though whether their hostility was because I was a stranger or because I was from off-dimension I wasn't sure. It did occur to me that I was still wearing my disguise spell business suit which definitely set me apart from the dark, weather-beaten outfits the other patrons wore almost like a uniform. It also occurred to me that this might not be the wisest place to have a quiet drink.

  "I think we should get out of here, Skeeve."

  I don't know when Kalvin rejoined me, but he was there hovering at my side again. His words echoed my own thoughts, but sheer snorkiness made me take the opposite stance.

  "Don't be a snob, Kalvin," I muttered. "Besides, sitting down for a while was your idea, wasn't it?"

  Before he could answer, I strode to one of the tables and plopped down in a seat, raising one hand to signal the bartender. He ignored it and returned to his conversation with the other drinkers.

  "C'mon, Skeeve. Let's catch a cab back to the hotel and have our conversation there," Kalvin said, joining me. "You're in no frame of mind to start drinking. It'll only make things worse."

  He made a lot of sense. Unfortunately, for the mood I was in, he made too much sense.

  "You heard the Butterfly, Kalvin. I've been letting too many other people run my life by listening to their well-meaning advice. I'm supposed to start doing what I want to do more often...and what I want to do right now is have a drink...here."

  For a moment I thought he was going to argue with me, but then he gave a sigh and floated down to sit on the table itself.

  "Suit yourself," he said. "I suppose everyone's entitled to make a jackass out of themselves once in a while."

  "What'll it be?"

  The bartender was looming over my table, saving me from having to think of a devastating comeback for Kalvin's jibe. Apparently, now that he had established that he wouldn't come when summoned, he wanted to take my order.

  "I'll have..."

  Suddenly, a glass of wine didn't feel right. Unfortunately, my experience with drinks was almost as limited as my experience with members of the opposite sex.

  "...Oh, just give me a round of whatever they're drinking at the bar there."

  The bartender gave a grunt that was neither approving nor disapproving and left, only to return a few moments later with a small glass of liquid which he slammed down on the table hard enough for some of the contents to slop over the edge. I couldn't see it too clearly, but it seemed to be filled with an amber fluid with bubbles in it that gathered in a froth at the top.

  "Ya gotta pay by the round," he sneered, as if it were an insult.

  I fished a handful of small change out of my pocket and tossed it on the table, reaching for the glass with the other hand.

  Now, some of you might be wondering why I was so willing to experiment with a strange drink after everything I've been saying about food on Perv. Well, truth to tell, I was son of hoping this venture would end in disaster. You see, by this time I had cooled off enough to acknowledge that Kalvin was probably right about going back to the hotel, but I had made such a big thing out of making an independent decision that changing my mind now would be awkward. Somewhere in that train of thought, it occurred to me that if this new drink made me sick, I would have an unimpeachable reason for reversing my earlier decision. With that in mind, I raised the glass to my lips and took a sip.

  The icy burst tha
t hit my throat was such a surprise that I involuntarily took another swallow...and another. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was after my brisk walk until I hit the bottom of the glass without setting it down or taking a breath. Whatever this stuff was, it was absolutely marvelous, and the vaguely bitter aftertaste only served to remind me I wanted more.

  "Bring me another of these," I ordered the bartender, who was still sorting through my coins. "And can you bring it in a larger container?"

  "I could bring you a pitcher," he grumbled.

  "Perfect...and pull a little extra there for your trouble."

  "Say...thanks."

  The bartender's mood and opinion of me seemed to have improved as he made his way to the bar. I congratulated myself for remembering what Edvik had said about tipping.

  "I suppose it would be pushy to try to point out that you're drinking on an empty stomach," the Djin said drily.

  "Not at all," I grinned.

  For once I was ahead of him and raised my voice to call the bartender.

  "Say! Could you bring me some of that popcorn while you're at it?"

  Most of the bar snacks that were laid out seemed to be in mesh-covered containers to keep them from crawling or hopping away. Amidst these horrors, however, I had spotted a bin of popcorn when I came in, and had made special note of it; thinking that at least some forms of junk food appeared to be the same from dimension to dimension.

  "Happy now?"

  "I'd be happier if you picked something that was a little less salty," Kalvin grimaced, "but I suppose it's better than nothing."

  The bartender delivered my pitcher along with a basket of popcorn, then wandered off to greet some new patrons who had just wandered in. I tossed a handful of the popcorn into my mouth and chewed it while I refilled my glass from the pitcher. It was actually more spicy than salty, which made me revise some of my earlier thoughts about the universality of junk food, but I decided not to mention this discovery to Kalvin. He was fussing at me enough already.

  "So, what do you want to talk about?" I said, forcing myself not to immediately wash down the popcorn with a long drink from the glass.

 

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