"Okay. Tell him I'll be down in a few minutes."
"Sure thing. Oh... the other thing I wanted to ask you... Is it okay if this guy Aahz finds out you're looking for him?"
I had to think about that for a few moments. Aahz had left without talking to me, but I didn't think he was avoiding me to a point where he'd go into hiding if he knew I was on Perv.
"That shouldn't be a problem. Why?"
"I was thinking of running an ad in the personal section of the newspaper, but then it occurred to me that he might owe you money or something, so I thought I'd better check first."
"The personal section?"
"It's a daily bulletin board the paper prints," Kalvin supplied as he joined us in mid-yawn. "Notes from people to people... birthday greetings, messages from wives to wayward husbands, that sort of thing. A lot of people read them faithfully."
Somehow that didn't sound like Aahz's cup of tea, but there was always a chance that someone who knew him would see it and pass on the information. In any case, it couldn't hurt.
"Oh, right. The personal ads. Sorry, I'm still waking up. Sounds like a good idea," I said, rummaging around for some loose change. "How much does it cost?" To my surprise, the bellhop held up a restraining hand., "I'll go the cost on my own if you don't mind, Mr. Skeeve."
"Oh?"
"Sure. That way, if it works, there won't be any doubt who gets that reward you mentioned."
With that, he flashed me a quick grin and left. It occurred to me that I should start watching my spending to be sure I'd have enough to actually pay a reward if the bellhop or one of his friends managed to locate Aahz for me.
"So what's the plan for today, Skeeve?" Kalvin followed me into the bathroom and asked his question as I was peering at my face in the mirror. Things were getting to a point where I had to shave, but only occasionally... and I decided today wasn't one of those occasions. It's funny, when I was younger I used to look forward to shaving, but now that it was fast upon me I tended to see it as the nuisance it was. I began to understand why some men grew beards.
"Well, I don't think we should just sit around here waiting for Aahz to answer the bellhop's personal ad," I said. "Be sides, it won't produce any results today, anyway. I figure we should do a little looking on our own." As soon as I said it, I realized how simplistic that sounded. Of course we were going to go looking for Aahz. That's what we would have done if the bellhop hadn't come up with his "personal ad" idea. If Kalvin noticed, however, he let me get away with it.
"Sounds good to me. Where do we start?"
I had been giving that some thought. Unfortunately, the end result was that I was embarrassed to realize how little I knew about Aahz's background... or the background of any of my other colleagues, for that matter. "The main things Aahz seems to specialize in are magik and finances. I thought we'd poke around those circles a while and see if anyone can give us a lead."
As it turned out, however, there was one small episode which delayed the start of our quest.
We had just stepped out of the doors of the hotel and were looking around for Edvik when I noticed the street vendors. They had been there the day before when we checked in, but I had failed to really notice or comment on them. Today, however, they caught my attention, if for no other reason than their contrast to the hustlers who populated the same area at night.
The night hustlers were an intense, predatory lot who seemed willing to trade for some of your money only if they felt like they couldn't simply knock you down and take it all directly. The day people, on the other hand, seemed to be more like low-budget retailers who stood quietly behind their makeshift briefcase stands or blankets and smiled or made their pitches to any passersby who chanced to pause to look at their displays. If anything, their manner was furtive rather than sinister, and they kept glancing up and down the street as if they were afraid of being observed at their trade.
"I wonder what they're watching for?" I said, almost to myself. I say almost because I forgot for the moment that Kalvin was hovering within easy hearing.
"Who? Them? They're probably watching for the police."
"The police? Why?"
"For the usual reason... what they're doing is illegal."
"It is?"
I had no desire to have another run-in with the police, but I was genuinely puzzled. Maybe I was missing some thing, but I couldn't see anything untoward about the street vendors' activities.
"I keep forgetting. You're from the Bazaar at Deva," the Djin laughed. "You see, Skeeve, unlike the Bazaar, most places require a license to be a street vendor. From the look of them, these poor souls can't afford one. If they could, they'd probably open a storefront instead of working the street."
"You mean this is it for them? They aren't distributing for a larger concern?"
On Deva, most of the street vendors were employees of larger businesses who picked up their wares in the morning and returned what was unsold at the end of their shift. Their specific strategy was to look like a small operation so that tourists who were afraid of dickering at a storefront or tent would buy, assuming they knew more and could get better prices from a lowly street peddler. It never occurred to me that the street vendors I had been seeing really were small, one-person operations.
"That's right," Kalvin was saying. "What you see is what you get. Most of those people have their life savings tied up in... Hey! Where are you going?" I ignored him, stepping boldly up to one of the vendors I had noticed the day before. He was in the same spot as yesterday, squatting behind a blanket full of sunglasses and cheap bracelets. What had caught my eye yesterday was that he was young, even younger than I was. Considering the longevity of Pervects, that made him very young indeed.
"See anything you like?" he said, flashing an expanse of pointed teeth I would have found unnerving if I hadn't gotten used to Aahz's grins.
"Actually, I was hoping you could answer a few questions for me."
The smile disappeared.
"What are you? A reporter or something?"
"No. Just curious."
He scowled and glanced around.
"I suppose it's all right, as long as it doesn't interfere with any paying customers. Time's money, ya know."
In response, I tossed a gold coin into his blanket.
"So call me a customer who's buying some of your time. Let me know when that's used up."
He made a quick pass with his hand and the coin disappeared as his smile emerged from hiding.
"Mister, you just got my attention. Ask your questions."
"Why do you do this?"
The smile faded into a grimace.
"Because I'm independently wealthy and get my kicks sitting in the rain and running from the cops... why do you think? I do it for the money, same as everybody else."
"No. I meant why do you do this for money instead of getting a job?"
He studied me for a moment with his Pervish yellow eyes, then gave a small shrug.
"All right," he said. "I'll give you a straight answer. You don't get rich working for someone else... especially not at the kind of jobs I'd been qualified for. You see, I don't come from money. All my folks gave me was my name. After that I was pretty much on my own. I don't have much school to my credit, and, like I say, my family isn't connected. I can't get a good job from an old pal of my dad's. That means I'd start at the bottom... and probably end there, too. Anyway, I gave it a good long think, and decided I wanted more out of life."
I tried to think of a tactful way of saying that this still looked pretty bottom of the barrel to me. "... So you think this is better than working at an entry-level job for someone else?"
His head came up proudly.
"I didn't say that. I don't figure to be doing this forever. This is just a way to raise the capital to start a bigger business. I'm risking it all on my own abilities. If it works, I get all the profits instead of a wage and I can move on to better things. What's more, if it works well enough, I've got more to pass on t
o my kids than my parents did. If it doesn't... well, I'm no worse off than when I started."
"You've got kids?"
"Who, me? No... at least, not yet. Maybe someday. Right now, the way things are going. I can't even afford a steady girlfriend, if you know what I mean." Actually, I didn't. I had plenty of money personally, but no girlfriend. Therefore, I didn't have the vaguest idea what the upkeep on one would be.
"Well, I'd say it's a noble cause you have there... wanting to build something to leave for your kids."
At that he laughed, flashing those teeth again. "Don't try to make me sound too good," he said. "I won't kid you. I'd like a few of the nicer things in life myself... like staying at fancy hotels and driving around in cabs. I'd use up some of the profits before I passed them on to my kids."
I was suddenly aware of the differences in our economic standing... that what he was dreaming about I tended to take for granted. The awareness made me uncomfortable. "Yeah... well, I've got to be going now. Oh! What was it, anyway?"
"What was what?"
"The name your parents gave you."
"It wasn't that hot, really," he said, making a face. "My friends just call me J. R."
With that, I beat a hasty retreat to my waiting cab. "What was that all about?" Edvik said as I sank back into my seat.
"Oh, I was just curious about what made the street vendors tick."
"Them? Why bother? They're just a bunch of low-life hustlers scrabbling for small change. They're never going to get anywhere."
I was surprised at the sudden vehemence in his voice. There was clearly no love lost there.
It occurred to me that Edvik's appraisal of the street vendors pretty much summed up my initial reaction to his own enterprising efforts with his cab and self-publishing company.
It also occurred to me, as I reflected on my conversation with J. R., that I had been even more lucky than I had realized when I had taken to studying magik... first with Garkin and then with Aahz. It didn't take the wildest stretching of the imagination to picture myself in the street vendor's place... assuming I had that much initiative to begin with. All in all, it wasn't a particularly comforting thought.
Chapter Ten:
"All financiers are not created equal!"
—R. CORMAN
"So WHERE ARE we off to today, Mr. Skeeve?" Edvik's words interrupted my thoughts, and I fought to focus my attention on the problem at hand.
"Either to talk with the magicians or some financial types," I said. "I was hoping that as our trusty native guide you'd have some ideas as to which to hit first... and it's just ‘Skeeve,' not ‘Mr. Skeeve.'"
The "Mr. Skeeve" thing had been starting to get to me with the bellhop, but it hadn't seemed worth trying to correct. If I was going to be spending the next few days traveling with Edvik, however, I thought I'd try to set him straight before he got on my nerves.
"All right. Skeeve it is," the cabbie agreed easily. "Just offhand, I'd say it would probably be easier to start with the financial folks."
That hadn't been what I had hoped he'd say, but as I've noted before, there's no point in paying for guidance and then not following it.
"Okay. I'll go along with that. Any particular reason, though?"
"Sure. First of all, there are a lot of people in the magik business around here. We got schools, consultants, co-ops, entertainers, weather control and home defense outfits... all sorts. What's more, they're spread out all over. We could spend the next year trying to check them out and still have barely scratched the surface. There aren't nearly as many financiers, on the other hand, so if they're on your list I figured we could start with them. Maybe we'll get lucky and not have to deal with the magik types."
I was a little staggered by his casual recitation. The enormity of what I was trying to do was just starting to sink in. I had only allowed a week to find Aahz and convince him to come back. At the moment, it seemed next to impossible to accomplish that in so short a time, yet I couldn't take any longer with the rest of the crew taking on Queen Hemlock without me. With an effort, I tried to put my doubts out of my mind. At the very least, I had to try. I'd face up to what to do next at the end of the week... not before. "What's the other reason?"
"Excuse me?"
"You said ‘First of all... . ‘ That usually implies there's more than one reason."
The cabbie shot me a glance over his shoulder. "That's right. Well, if you must know, I'm a little uncomfortable around magicians... current company excepted, of course. Never had much call to deal with ‘em and just as happy to keep it that way. I've got a buddy, though, who's a financier. He just might be able to help you out. Most of these finance types know each other, you know. Leastwise, I can probably get you in to see him without an appointment."
Kalvin was waving a hand at me, trying to get my attention.
"I probably don't have to remind you of this," he said, "but your time is rather limited. I didn't say anything about your chatting with that scruffy street vendor, but are you really going to blow off part of a day talking to a supposed financier who hangs out with cab drivers?"
"How did you meet this guy?" I queried, trying desperately to ignore the Djin's words... or, to be exact, how closely they echoed my own thoughts.
"Oh, we sort of ran into each other at an art auction."
"An art auction?"
I didn't mean to let my incredulity show in my voice, but it kind of slipped out. In response, Edvik twisted around in his seat to face me directly.
"Yeah. An auction. What's the matter? Don't you think I can appreciate art?"
Left to their own devices, the lizards powering our vehicle began veering toward the curb.
"Well... no. I mean, I've never met an art collector before. I don't know much about art, so it surprised me, that's all. No offense," I said hurriedly, trying not to tense as the cab wandered back and forth in our lane.
"You asked. That's where we met."
The cabbie returned his attention to the road once more, casually bringing us back on course.
"Were you both bidding on the same painting?"
"No. He offered to back half my bid so I could stay in the running... only it wasn't a painting. It was more what you would call literary."
Now I was getting confused.
"Literary? But I thought you said it was an art auction."
"It was, but there was an author there who offered to auction off an appearance in his next book. Well, I knew the author... I had done an interview with him in one of the ‘zines I publish... so I thought it would be kind of neat to see how he would do me in print. Anyway, it came down to two of us, and the bidding got pretty stiff. I thought I was going to have to drop out."
"That's when the financier offered to back your bid?"
"Actually, he made the offer to the other guy first. Lucky for me the other bidder wanted the appearance for his wife, so he wouldn't go along with the deal. That's when the Butterfly turned to me."
"Wait a minute. The Butterfly?"
"That's what he calls himself. It's even on his business cards. Anyway, if he hadn't come in on the bid, you'd be spending a couple chapters talking to some guy's winsome but sexy wife instead of..."
At that point I was listening with only half an ear as Edvik prattled on. A financier named Butterfly who backs cabbies' bids at auctions. I didn't have to look at Kalvin to tell the Djin was rolling his eyes in an anguished "I told you so." Still, the more I thought about it, the more hopeful I became. This Butterfly just might be offbeat enough to know something about Aahz. I figured it was at least worth a try.
Strange as it may sound, I was as nervous about meeting the Butterfly as Edvik claimed to be about dealing with magicians. Magicians I had been dealing with for several years and knew what to expect... or if my experiences were an accurate sample, what not to expect. Financiers, on the other hand, were a whole different kettle of fish. I had no idea what I was getting into or how to act. I tried to reassure myself by remembering
that this particular financier had dealt with Edvik in the past, and so could not be too stuffy. Still, I found myself straightening my disguise spell nervously as the cabbie called up to the Butterfly from the lobby. I was still traveling as a Klahd, but had used my disguise spell to upgrade my wardrobe a bit so that I at least looked like I was comfortable in monied circles. I needn't have worried.
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 leatherbound 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..."
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