E.Godz

by Robert Asprin

  "Relax, Sis. We are golden. Say she does catch wise that someone's ferreting around in her system, the only way she can intervene is by locating the source. That would be child's play for her: Just slip a tracking spell into the wires. She can't do that to us the way

  I've got this set up. No wires, no way to trace the connection."

  "No wires, no electrical feed for the laptops," Peez said. "I've never tried anything like this before. What happens if we power down in the middle of it?"

  "We won't," Dov reassured her. "Not as long as we've got good, solid battery backup. Not as long as you keep feeding our batteries."

  "Yeah, but what happens when I run out of peanuts?"

  As if to answer her question, a large gray squirrel not six inches away from Peez's feet sat up on its haunches and set off a long stream of loud, chittering complaints. Peez threw him another peanut and thought that this was one hell of a way to harness the earth- power.

  It did look somewhat bizarre to the untrained eye. It even looked bizarre by the standards of some of E. Godz, Inc.'s more eccentric (pronounced "woo-woo") clients. Of course anything looks bizarre when it involves squirrels.

  A nineteenth-century French painter might have made a pretty picture of the siblings' command center for Operation Bad Mommy, titling it Le Takeover Hostile Sur l'Herbe. While Dov delved deeply into Edwina's databanks, Peez sat on the grass under the outspread branches of a venerable sycamore tree on the campus of Vassar College, a giant economy-sized bag of peanuts in her lap. Every so often she tossed a handful to the coterie of about twenty squirrels surrounding her, making sure to keep them from losing interest and scampering away. The squirrels' plump bodies pulsed with waves of energy which was being siphoned away along threadlike conduits all leading to Dov's tandem laptops, giving him all the power he needed.

  "By the time you run out of peanuts, we'll be done," he told his sister. "Then we'll go pay a little call on Edwina."

  "I hope you're right," Peez said. "And I hope the creatures will be satisfied with what I gave them. I don't like the way that big bull squirrel's looking at me. I think he might be plotting something. Did we have to use squirrels? Even back in New York City, they gave me the creeps. They're always watching."

  "Squirrels are nature's most compact and efficient gatherers of the earth-power," Dov said, sounding almost as dull as a tenured professor. "Have you ever seen how fast they can move? Pure energy. They press their little bodies right up against tree trunks for better power absorption, and they've perfected the method for extracting the potential energy of a full-grown oak, maple, pine, whatever kind of tree from the seeds, nuts, and acorns they ingest. You call them rodents: I call them fuzzy plutonium! And this place seems to have an infinite supply of the little buggers."

  "If you say so," Peez said. She continued to dole out peanuts. The squirrels, much like a gaggle of junior faculty members, put up with any kind of public humiliation if it meant that they got to stick close to a source of free food.

  At last Dov hit one final keystroke, slapped both laptops shut simultaneously, flopped over onto his back and triumphantly announced: "Finished!"

  "What did you do?" Peez asked.

  "Oh, nothing much." He rolled onto his stomach and sat up again. "I just isolated all of her assets, monetary as well as supernatural. She's down to the spare change level on all fronts. She may have more experience than we do when it comes to magic, but a fat lot of good that'll do her when she can't reach the stuff she needs to power her spells."

  "Like owning a Mercedes but only having enough money to buy a teaspoonful of gas?" Peez liked the idea.

  "Bingo." Dov tapped the tip of his nose. He stood up and offered Peez his hand. "Give the furry-tailed rats the rest of the peanuts and let's go pay a call on dear, dear Mamma."

  Giggling, Peez tossed the remaining peanuts to the squirrels before allowing Dov to help her up. As they walked off, Dov flipped open his cell phone to call for a taxi. He was so engrossed in the call that he didn't notice the big male squirrel sitting right in his path until he almost trod on him. The two of them exchanged peevish stares.

  "Shoo!" Dov commanded. "Scat! Get out of the way!"

  "That's him," Peez exclaimed, pointing wildly at the beast. "That's the one that was looking at me before! He wants something; I can tell."

  "What he wants is a kick in the rump for bothering my sister," Dov said grimly. "And I'm the guy to give it to him." He drew back his right leg, ready to suit the action to the word.

  * * *

  "How are you feeling, Mr. Godz?" the doctor asked brightly.

  "Better. I think." Dov moved cautiously on the examination table, but not cautiously enough. Sharp pains shot all up and down the length of his right side where the squirrel had ducked inside his trousers and run races around Dov's leg before finally scooting out and away.

  "You're just lucky that the scratches were superficial and that you didn't get bitten," the doctor went on. "Of course even without a bite there's still the chance of rabies infection if—"

  "Rabies?" Dov was panic-stricken. "But that's just from bites. That rotten little bastard didn't bite me."

  "True, but if the squirrel was rabid and some of his saliva got into your system via those scratches ... Would you happen to know if that happened?"

  "You want me to figure out if the bloody damn squirrel that ran up my pants was drooling at the time?"

  "Well, failing that knowledge, and since we don't have the squirrel itself to examine, I would suggest that you have the inoculations."

  "Shots? You want me to have rabies shots? No. No way. I know all about them and they hurt!"

  "They don't hurt as much as they used to," the doctor said primly. "But rabies still kills."

  "Doctor, let me talk to my brother," Peez said. "I think I can persuade him to take the shots. May we have a moment alone?"

  The doctor shrugged. He was busy. "Have them page me when you're ready," he said, leaving the examination room.

  "I am not having rabies shots!" Dov declared, clutching his leg. It was almost completely swathed in bandages where the doctor had tended to the squirrel scratches. Pulling his pants back on over all that gauze would be an adventure.

  "Shush; you don't need them." Peez laid her hand on Dov's leg and closed her eyes. She began to hum and murmur, swaying back and forth gently. Dov felt a warm, pleasant sensation creeping over his leg, as if he were slowly immersing it in a tropical sea. Peez stopped humming and opened her eyes. "It's okay," she said. "The squirrel wasn't rabid."

  "How do you know?"

  "A little something I picked up in my travels. Part of it's stuff I learned out in Arizona, part's drawn from things Mr. Bones taught me, but it all boils down to being able to read the body so you can heal it. Your body says it's definitely not harboring any rabies virus, the scratches will be gone in a few days, and for the love of heaven, stop eating all that damn pastrami."

  "Thanks, Sis." Dov got off the examining table and started getting dressed. "We've lost enough time over that blasted squirrel. Let's get out of here, grab a cab to Edwina's and do this thing." He stopped wrestling with his trousers when he heard Peez laughing. "And what is so funny?"

  "Remember right before that squirrel ran up your pants leg when I said he wanted something only I didn't know what?" she said, still snickering. "Well, now I do know what he was after: bigger nuts. Bwahahaha!"

  Dov made a face. "I think I liked you better when you were a virgin."

  * * *

  The taxi dropped them off outside the gates to Edwina's house. Dov and Peez gazed at the building they hadn't seen in years. After they'd left home, their return trips had gone from compulsory holiday get-togethers bristling with hostility and ill will to grudging individual social calls. In time they'd given up coming at all, except when Edwina sent for them to discuss business matters. Soon even those visits stopped and all such meetings were held via e-mail, fax or phone.

  "I never saw the point of comi
ng back here," Dov said. "This never felt like home."

  "What did?" Peez said.

  "Nowhere." He looked at her. "Nowhere so far. Maybe that's going to change, too. Peez, have you ever seen Miami? It's a neat place. I think you'd like it, and I know a lot of people down there who'd help me show you a good time. How about Thanksgiving? Or before that, if you've got the time."

  "I'd like that, Dov." Peez smiled. "But if you came up to New York for Thanksgiving we could see the Macy's parade together. My office has a great view of the route. Oh! And you absolutely have to come up for Christmas! Everyone loves the city lights, whether or not they celebrate the holiday. I have a duplex; you can stay with me."

  "I'll tell you what: Why don't we take care of Mom first, then we can decide who's bringing the mince pie, okay?"

  There was no problem gaining access to the grounds. Dov's explorations in cyberspace revealed that Edwina did not maintain the kind of security system you could buy through normal channels. When you had magic, who needed burglar alarms? Why defend your grounds when all the stuff worth stealing was inside the house?

  The house itself was another story. Dov and Peez both sensed the all-enshrouding presence of warding spells. These were set on "Low," intended to be more deterrent than destructive. If a trespasser couldn't take the hint, there would be stronger stuff awaiting him inside.

  Dov deferred to Peez, letting his big sister disarm the wards while he called up a counterspell to create the illusion that the wards hadn't been touched at all. Peez cleverly snagged a couple of scraps from the warding spells before discarding the rest. She slipped them over herself and her brother so that they could enter the house undetected. It was like tearing a camouflage tarp off a tank and using it to mask your own presence. The same wards that discouraged intruders by making them feel as though they were trying to penetrate doors and windows snugly clogged with yard-thick layers of rubber cement also had the power to make surveillance spells rebound.

  Once thus concealed from view, there was no reason that Dov and Peez had to play ninja. They waltzed right into the house by the front door, their only precaution being to waltz as quietly as possible. Now all they had to do was locate their mother and spring their surprise.

  Where do you think she is? Dov mouthed silently at Peez.

  What? She mouthed back.

  This time he exaggerated his lip movements: I said, where do you think she is? In the bedroom?

  Did you say the bathroom?

  Right, right! Pretending to be dying.

  Peez nodded. No harm in trying, she agreed, starting to climb the staircase to the upper floors.

  Dov followed. He had just set foot on the first step when suddenly, as if from nowhere, a small, round, bushy-tailed shape darted out of the shadows and planted itself right in his path. Beady eyes glittered balefully, teeth like tiny chisels clashed together, and Dov found himself staring into the fuzzy face of doom.

  He couldn't help it: He screamed.

  Peez whirled around just in time to be the first human being on the face of the planet to hear a squirrel laugh.

  "There you are, children," said Edwina. A double crash underscored her appearance. She had thrust aside the sleeve doors of the front parlor (the actual parlor, not the one that was her incognito office) with a dramatic gesture like Samson pushing down the pillars of the Philistines' temple. The thick panels flew aside on their well-oiled brass rollers, making a thunderous noise that was quite impressive.

  The squirrel bounded down the stairs and scurried up Edwina's skirt, hopped onto her arm, and clambered onto her shoulder. When she reached up to scratch his belly, he closed his eyes in delight and showed the world that squirrels do know how to purr.

  "Ah, Mister Nibbles, what would I ever do without you?" Edwina mused aloud. "Good job." Returning her attention to her children, she added: "Come into the parlor, please. We've been waiting for you."

  "And we have been waiting for you!" Dov declaimed, his cheeks still hot with embarrassment. "It's all over, Mom! Your days of deceit are at an end."

  "Of course they are, dear," Edwina said placidly, still petting Mister Nibbles. "Shall we have a nice cup of tea to celebrate, now that you've finally arrived? I knew Mister Nibbles would manage to detain you for a time, but I didn't think you'd be this late. Either you took your sweet time treating Dov's leg or else my baby boy still runs to the ER over any little scratch." She turned her back on them and ambled into the parlor.

  Dov and Peez exchanged a look that was half bewilderment, half apprehension. "I guess we've learned a valuable lesson here," Peez muttered. "Caffeine is no substitute for genius. She knew we were coming. She knew enough to sic a spy squirrel on us and hold us up so she could make tea! She probably stockpiled enough magic from her own batteries to counter any spells we could throw at her before you even accessed her accounts. Not a lot of punch left to a surprise attack once you take the surprise part away."

  "Don't be silly, Peez darling," Edwina called from the parlor. "I was very surprised. Really, I was. Now come in here before all the scones are gone. I've got your favorite flavor: orange-cranberry."

  Reluctantly, suspiciously, Dov and Peez entered the parlor just in time to see Edwina in a tug-of-war over the last orange-cranberry scone with Teddy Tumtum. Mister Nibbles was chittering angrily at the bear, who was seated on the sofa within easy grabbing distance of a large platter of scones, muffins, and assorted tea cakes.

  "I might have known," Peez said bitterly, seating herself in a high-backed chair as far from Teddy Tumtum as possible.

  "You and me both," said Dov, taking the chair closest to his sister. He had just caught sight of the glint of silver. Peez's treacherous teddy bear was wearing Ammi around his furry neck.

  "Give me back that scone, Teddy Tumtum," Edwina said. "It's not as if you're actually able to eat it. You've just been tearing them to pieces and getting the crumbs all over my nice, clean house."

  "And my nice, clean head," Ammi added.

  "I don't care." The bear was sulky. "This way she can't have 'em either."

  "Now you're just being needlessly vindictive," Edwina chided him. She let him keep the scone while she filled two teacups from the steaming pot and passed them around. "What next, dare I ask? Tying her shoelaces together? Lighting bags of dog poop on her front steps? Freezing her power assets through the Internet?"

  She looked meaningfully at her children.

  "You were right, Peez," Dov said.

  "Once I found out that the two of you were together at last, I suspected you'd try something. I wasn't sure what, but thanks to some inside information and advice"— Edwina lavished a grateful look on Teddy Tumtum and Ammi—"I was able to narrow down your possible points of attack."

  "And you didn't try to stop us?" Peez asked. "You didn't make any ... withdrawals before Dov secured your system?"

  "I suppose I should have, but I was just so fascinated, watching you and your brother at work together, that I lost track of time. Silly me."

  "So that means that we—that we still control your magic?" The cup and saucer in Dov's hands were clattering wildly.

  "Well of course you do, dear. And I wouldn't have it any other way." Edwina sipped her tea. "I suppose I owe you an apology," she went on. "Or not. I admit that I deceived you, telling you that I was at death's door when in reality I haven't even begun to ask for directions to his house."

  "You don't think we deserve an apology for putting us through that?" Peez could hardly believe what she was hearing. Inside she was a turmoil of conflicting emotions which coalesced into the long, piteous cri de coeur that escaped her lips: "Mooommm! That's not fay-yerrr!"

  "I didn't want fairness; I wanted results. And I got them." Edwina gazed at her children and smiled. "I also want to retire, travel, visit old friends, make new ones, and enjoy every last day of the rest of my life. I couldn't very well do that when the two of you were still at each other's throats, now, could I? Well, I suppose I could have, if I didn't mind
watching the business I put together from nothing get torn to pieces before my eyes like—like—" Her gaze wandered the room as if searching for an appropriate image and at last fell on Teddy Tumtum. "—like a common orange-cranberry scone!" she concluded.

  "So this was all just a ploy to get us to make peace?" Dov asked, marveling at his mother's bald-faced effrontery.

  "You make that sound like a bad thing," Edwina replied, feeding bits of corn muffin to Mister Nibbles. "But I don't think that's the only thing you got out of your travels, is it?"

  The Godz siblings thought this over.

  "I can't speak for Dov," Peez said, "but I learned more about who our clients are and what they believe than when they were just a list of names and numbers in the company databank."

  "Me, too," Dov said. "I guess it's better for everyone this way, huh? For Peez and me, for the clients, for the company ..."

  "And for me," Edwina concluded. She gave Mister Nibbles the last crumb of corn muffin and stood up. "You may not believe me, but I love both of you more than words can say. You're my children, and I've raised you the best way I knew how. I made mistakes—I have yet to meet a parent who didn't—but I think that by and large you turned out beautifully. You just needed a few finishing touches."

  "You may love us as much as you claim," Peez said, "but you love the company more. You said it yourself: The only reason you cared about getting Dov and me to reconcile was so that we didn't destroy your precious E. Godz, Inc. after you were gone."

  "Oh, Peez, do you really think that?" Edwina looked genuinely sad. "All this time you've spent learning about the different ways we seek the power of the earth-magic, and you've never once thought about how the earth herself treats her children? Sometimes she's kind, sometimes harsh, sometimes she makes all of us cry out that she's unfair, but always, always she provides for us and does her best to scatter her gifts with a generous, even hand among all her children. If we can't see that, it's because we're children, and children never see things the way their parents do until they become parents themselves." Then she gave her daughter a very suggestive wink and added: "But that's something you'll find out soon enough, my darling."