Robert Asprin

by M. Y. T. H. Inc Link

  "I oughtta turn youse over to da authorities! A clumsy hijack like this could give our profession a bad name. Know what I mean? Are you listenin' ta me? Now take your buddies and get outta here before I change my mind! And don't come back until you find some decent help!"

  I had to admit that Nunzio had a certain degree of style...for a human. If he had been fortunate enough to be born with a brain, he might have been a dragon.

  While he was busy throwing the latest batch of attackers out the door, I decided to do a little investigating. After three attempts to relieve us of our prize, though Nunzio was only aware of one of them, I was beginning to grow a bit suspicious. Even for as crime-prone a lot as humans tend to be, three attempts in that close succession was unusual, and I wanted to know more about what it was we were guarding.

  The cases still smelled of paper and ink, but that seemed an inadequate reason for the attention they had been drawing. As casually as I could, I swatted one of the cases with my tail, caving it in. Apparently I had not been casual enough, for the sound brought Nunzio sprinting to my side.

  "Now what are you doin'? Look! You ruined...Hey! Wait a minute!"

  He stooped and picked up one of the objects that had spilled from the case and examined it closely. I snaked my head around so I could look over his shoulder.

  "Do you know what dis is, Gleep?"

  As a matter of fact, I didn't. From what I could see, all it was was some kind of picture book...and a shoddily made one at that. What it didn't look like was anything valuable. Certainly nothing that would warrant the kind of attention we had been getting.

  Nunzio tossed the book back onto the floor and glanced around nervously.

  "This is over my head," he murmured. "I can't...Gleep, you keep an eye on this stuff. I'll be right back. I've gotta get the Boss...and Guido! Yea. He knows about this stuff."

  Admittedly perplexed, I watched him go, then studied the book again.

  Very strange. There was clearly something in this situation that was escaping my scrutiny.

  I rubbed my nose a few times in a vain effort to clear it of the smell of ink, then hunkered down to await my pet's arrival.

  "Comic books?"

  Skeeve was clearly as perplexed as I had been.

  "The 'valuable shipment' we're guarding is comic books?"

  "That's what I thought, Boss," Nunzio said. "Screwy, huh? What do you think, Guido?"

  Guido was busy prying open another case. He scanned the books on top, then dug a few out from the bottom to confirm they were the same. Studying two of them intently, he gave out with a low whistle.

  "You know what these are worth. Boss?"

  Skeeve shrugged.

  "I don't know how many of them are here, but I've seen them on sale around the Bazaar at three or four for a silver, so they can't be worth much."

  "Excuse me for interruptin'," Guido said, "but I am not referrin' to yer everyday, run-of-the-mill comic. I am lookin' at these, which are a horse from a different stable."

  "They are?" my pet frowned. "I mean...it is? I mean...these all look the same to me. What makes them special?"

  "It is not easy to explain, but if you will lend me your ears I will attempt to further your education. Boss. You too, Nunzio."

  Guido gathered up a handful of the books and sat on one of the cases.

  "If you will examine the evidence before you, you will note that while all these comics are the same, which is to say they are copies of the same issue, they each have the number 'one' in a box on their cover. This indicates that it is the first issue of this particular title."

  I refrained from peering at one of the books. If Guido said the indicator was there, it was probably there, and looking at it wouldn't change anything.

  "Immediately that 'one' makes the comic more valuable, both to someone who is tryin' to obtain a complete set, and especially to a collector. Now, certain titles is more popular than others, which makes them particularly valuable, but more important are titles which have indeed grown in popularity since they made their first debutante. In that situational, there are more readers of the title currently than there were when it began, and the laws of supply and demand drive the price of a first-issue copy through the roof."

  He gestured dramatically with one of the books.

  "This particular title premiered several years ago and is currently hotter than the guy what swiped the crown jewels. What is more, the print run on the first issue was very small, makin' a first-issue copy exceedingly valuable...with the accent on 'exceedingly.' I have with my own eyes seen a beat-up copy of the comic you are currently holding on a dealer's table with an askin' price of a hundert-fifty gold on it. Mind you, I'm not sayin' he got it, but that's what he was askin'."

  Now it was Skeeve's turn to whistle. I might have been tempted myself, but whistling is difficult with a forked tongue.

  "If that's true, this shipment is worth a fortune. He's got enough of them here."

  "That is indeed the puzzlement. Boss," Guido said, looking at the cases. "If my memory is not seriously in error, there were only two thousand copies of this issue printed...yet if all these cases are full of the same merchandise, there are considerably more copies than that in this shipment to which we are referrin'. How this could be I am uncertain, but the explanation which occurs to me is less than favorable to the owner."

  "Forgeries!" Nunzio squeaked. "The guy's a multicolored paper hanger!"

  "A multi...never mind!" Skeeve waved. "What good would forged comics be?"

  "The same as any other forgery," Guido shrugged. "You pass 'em off as originals and split with the money before anyone's the wiser. In some ways it's better'n phony money, since it isn't as hard to duplicate comics and, as youse can see, they're worth more per pound. The paper's cheaper, too."

  My pet surveyed the shipment.

  "So we've been made unwitting accomplices to a comic-forging deal, eh?"

  "...And without even gettin' a piece of the action," Nunzio snarled.

  "That wasn't what I was thinking about," Skeeve said, shaking his head. "I was thinking of all the collectors who are going to plunk down their money to get a genuine collector's item, only to have the bottom drop out of the market when it's discovered that it's been flooded with forgeries."

  He rubbed his lower lip thoughtfully. "I wonder how much my lunch buddy has insured this shipment for?"

  "Probably not much, if at all," Guido supplied. "To do so would necessitate the fillin' out of documents declarin' the contents of said shipment, and any insurance type knowledgeable enough to give him full value would also know the discrepancy between the shipment count and what was originally printed. You see. Boss, the trouble with runnin' a fraud is that it requires runnin' additional frauds to cover for it, and eventually someone is bound to catch on."

  Skeeve wasn't even listening by the time Guido finished his oration. He was busy rubbing the spot between my ears, a strange smile on his face.

  "Well, I guess nobody wins all the time."

  "What was that. Boss?"

  My pet turned to face them.

  "I said that M.Y.T.H. Inc. fumbled the ball this time. Sorry, Nunzio, but this one is going into the records as a botched assignment. I can only assure you that it will not be reflected on your next performance review."

  "I don't get it," Nunzio frowned. "What went wrong?"

  "Why, the fire of course. You know, the fire that destroyed the entire shipment due to our inattentiveness and neglect? Terribly careless of us, wasn't it?"

  "Fire? What fire?"

  Skeeve stepped to one side and bowed to me, sweeping one hand toward the cases.

  "Gleep? I believe this is your specialty?"

  I waffled briefly between using a #4 or a #6, then said "to heck with it" and cut loose with a #9. It was a bit show-offy, I'll admit, but with Guide and Nunzio watching, not to mention my pet, it was pointless to spare the firepower.

  They were impressed, which was not surprising, as #9 is qui
te impressive. There wasn't even any afterburn to put out, since by the time I shut down the old flame-thrower, there was nothing left to burn.

  For several moments we all stood staring at the charred spot on the warehouse floor.

  "Wow!" Guido breathed at last.

  "You can say that double for me," Nunzio nodded, slipping an arm around my neck. "Good dragon, Gleep. Good dragon."

  "Well, gentlemen," Skeeve said, rubbing his hands together, "now that that's over I guess we can head...What's that?"

  He pointed to the collapsed portion of the floor, noticing it for the first time.

  "That?" Nunzio squeaked innocently. "Beats me, Boss. It was like that when we got here."

  I didn't bother to return his wink, for I was already starting to retreat into heavy thought. I only hoped that in the final analysis I wouldn't decide that either Guido or Nunzio was an unsettling influence on my pet. Time would tell.

  Chapter Six

  "Not everything in life is funny."

  -R.L. Asprin

  THE CREW SEEMED to be in high spirits as they gathered in my office for our monthly board meeting. Congratulations and jibes were exchanged in equal portions, as was the norm, and they began to settle in for what promised to be a marathon session.

  I was glad they were in a good mood. It might make what I had to say a little easier, though I doubted it. I was still reeling from the one-two punch I had just received, and now it was my job to pass it on to them.

  My own view of the pending session was a mixture of dread and impatience. Impatience finally dominated, and I called the meeting to order.

  "I know you all came prepared to discuss the sale of The Fun House," I said, looking around at the team members sprawled hither and yon, "but something has come up that I think takes priority over that. If no one objects, I'll temporarily table the casino discussion in favor of new business."

  That caused a bit of a stir and an exchange of puzzled glances and shrugs. Not wanting to be sidetracked by a round of questions or comments, I hurried on.

  "There's an assignment...no, I can't call it that. There's no payment involved and no client. It's just something I think M.Y.T.H. should get involved in. I don't feel I can order anyone to take part...in fact, I don't even see putting it to a vote. It's got to be on an individual volunteer basis."

  Tananda raised her hand. I nodded at her.

  "Do we get to hear what it is? Or are we supposed to volunteer blind?"

  I searched for the words for a moment, then gave up. Instead of speaking, I pushed the little oblong box that was on my desk toward her. She frowned at it, glanced at me, then picked it up and raised the lid.

  One look inside was all it took for her to get the message. Sinking back in her seat, we locked eyes for a moment; then she shook her head and gave a low whistle.

  "I say, is this a private horror, or can any number play?" Chumley grumbled from across the office.

  In response, Tananda held up the box, tilting it so everyone could see the contents. Inside was a severed finger, a woman's finger, to be exact. It was wearing a particularly gaudy ring.

  There was a long silence as the assemblage stared at the missive. Then Massha cleared her throat.

  "How much for just the ring?" she quipped, but from the tone of her voice she wasn't expecting anyone to laugh.

  Nobody did.

  "I don't get it. Boss," Guido scowled. "Is this supposed to be a joke or sumpin'?"

  "You and Nunzio weren't around for the big finale, Guido," I said. "Remember Queen Hemlock? Back on my home dimension of Klah?"

  "Sure," he nodded. "She was an okay skirt...a little creepy, though."

  "I guess it depended on which side of her favor you were on," Tananda commented wryly, tossing the box back onto the table.

  I ignored her.

  "Bunny, you weren't around for any of this, so..."

  "I've picked up some of it talking to Chumley," she waved.

  "Well, Queen Hemlock had an interesting plan she wanted to put into effect after she married Rodrick: to combine Possiltum's military strength with the wealth of her own kingdom of Impasse and fulfill her lifelong dream of conquering the world. Of course, she also planned to kill Rodrick if he opposed the idea."

  I picked up the box and toyed with it idly.

  "I thought I had stopped her by giving Rodrick wedding rings that they thought linked their lives, rings that wouldn't come off. The one in the box here is hers...of course, she had to cut off her finger to get rid of it. I hadn't anticipated that."

  "I rather suspect she wanted her dream more than her finger," Chumley said with a grimace.

  "So it would seem," I nodded. "Now she's on the loose, with an army we inadvertently supplied her with back when I was Court Magician of Possiltum. I'm not the greatest military appraiser around, but I don't think there's anything on Klah that can stop her...unless M.Y.T.H. Inc. takes a hand in the game."

  "What I don't understand," Chumley said, "is why she informed us of the situation via that missive. Wouldn't she be better off unopposed?"

  "Don't you know a challenge when you see one, big brother?" Tananda sighed. "Gauntlets are out of style, so she's giving us the finger."

  "You all seem ta have a higher opinion of Queenie than I do," Massha spoke up. "Ta me, it looks more like an invitation to a trap. As I recall, old Hemlock wasn't too well disposed toward us when we split. For all we know, her plan may have already run its course...in which case we get to be the featured entertainment at the victory celebration."

  That hadn't occurred to me. I seemed to be missing a lot lately.

  "You may be right, Massha," I said. "Under the best of circumstances, I'm not sure there's anything that can be done. That's why I'm putting it up for discussion. It's my home dimension, and I was the one who contributed to the problem, so my judgment is biased. In many ways, it's a personal problem. I can't expect anyone else to..."

  "You're talking it to death, Hot Stuff," Massha interrupted. "You're our peerless leader, for better or worse. Just go for it. We'll be right behind you."

  I shook my head and held up a restraining hand.

  "It's not that simple. First of all, I don't want this to be a group commitment where a dissenting individual has to be an exception or go along with something they don't agree with. That's why I was calling for individual volunteers...with no stigma attached to anyone who doesn't want to sign up. Second..."

  This was the hard part. Taking a deep breath, I plunged into it.

  "Second, I won't be along for this one. Something else has come up that takes priority over Queen Hemlock. Now, if she's not that important to me..."

  "Whoa. Stop the music!" Tananda exclaimed. "I want to hear what this hot deal is you've got going on the side. What's more important to you than defending your own home dimension?"

  I avoided her eyes.

  "It's not a deal or a job, really. It...It's personal. Something I can't delegate. I've got to handle it myself."

  "So tell us," she demanded, crossing her arms. "We're family. If nothing else, don't you think we have a right to know what the head man is going to be doing while we're off fighting a war for him?"

  I had had a feeling I wouldn't be able to slip this by unnoticed. With a sigh, I dropped the other shoe.

  "Look around the room," I said. "Notice anything missing?"

  There was a pause as everyone complied. It took a distressingly long time for them to figure it out.

  "Aahz!" Chumley said at last. "Aahz isn't here."

  "Say, that's right," Massha blinked. "I thought the meeting was a little quiet. Where is old Green and Scaly?"

  "Gone."

  It took a moment for it to sink in. Then the team stared at each other in shocked silence.

  "The note was on my desk this morning," I continued. "It's his letter of resignation from M.Y.T.H. Inc. Apparently he feels that without his powers he's deadwood...taking up space without earning his pay. He's packed up and gone, headed back t
o Perv."

  I dropped the paper back on my desk.

  "That's why I'm not going after Queen Hemlock myself. I'm going to Perv...after Aahz."

  The room exploded.

  "To Perv?"

  "You've got to be kidding. Hot Stuff."

  "But, Boss..."

  "Skeeve, you can't..."

  "I say, Skeeve. What if he won't come back?"

  I homed in on that last comment. As usual, Chumley managed to hit the heart of the matter.

  "If he won't come back...well, I'll have tried. I've got to at least talk to him. We've been together too long to let it go with a letter. I'm going to Perv to talk with him face to face...and I'm going alone."

  A new wave of protest rose in the room, but I cut it off.

  "When you go after Queen Hemlock...excuse me...if you go after Queen Hemlock, you're going to need all the manpower you can muster. It's bad enough that I can't be there; don't divide your strength more than it already is. Besides..."

  My voice faltered a little here.

  "This is my problem...I mean really my problem. I've been doing a lot of thinking since I read this note, and the problem is bigger than Aahz."

  I swept the assemblage slowly with my eyes.

  "I've gotten pretty wrapped up with being president lately. It's been hard to...I've been trying to justify the faith you all have in me by making the business go. In the process, it's gotten so I'm pretty sparse with my 'thank yous' and 'atta boys,' and I've all but lost contact with all of you outside of a business context. Aahz has been my best friend for years, and if he...Let's just say I'll be looking for myself as much as for Aahz."

  There was dead silence as my oration ground to a halt. If I had been hoping for any protests over my analysis, I was playing to the wrong audience. Suddenly, I wanted the meeting to be over with.

  I cleared my throat.

  "I'm taking a leave of absence to find Aahz. No discussion is required or allowed. Now, the subject at hand is whether or not M.Y.T.H. Inc. is going to attempt to stop Queen Hemlock's assumed attempt to take over Klah. Are there any volunteers?"