Robert Asprin's Myth-Quoted

by Jody Lynn Nye

  He spent freely on parties every evening, shook hands and pinched cheeks. He became the darling of the reporters, always good for a sensational statement in time for the deadline.

  I had to hand it to Emo and Wilmer. They showed amazing restraint in the face of Aahz’s outrageous antics. When asked about his statements, they allowed themselves to be quoted in the Morning Gossip and other papers that they were holding out for the debate. “We want to give the best example of our character in an organized setting,” Emo had said.

  I wondered what we were in for.

  My suspicions were raised further when Orlow came to lean over the backs of our chairs.

  “Mr. Skeeve, Miss Bunny,” he said in a low voice. “How are you all today?”

  “Fine,” I said, suddenly wary. “What can I do for you?”

  He beamed at me. “Glad you asked. Nothing. I would hope you will do absolutely nothing. Don’t interfere in anything you see. I promise that no one’s gonna get hurt . . . who doesn’t deserve to.”

  I frowned. “I can’t make a promise like that.”

  Orlow leaned closer.

  “Please, Mr. Skeeve, I think it would be safer for everyone if you do, a master magician like you. Things might get just a little . . . free-spirited.”

  Bunny put a hand on mine.

  “It’s fine,” she told Orlow. “He won’t interfere. Neither of us will.”

  “Thanks, ma’am. You won’t regret it.”

  Bunny raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I will, but that’s all right. By tomorrow night I intend to be neck deep in a bubble bath surrounded by scented candles with a book and a glass of wine, and Gleep will have orders to eat anyone who even mentions the word politics to me. Shall we get started?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Orlow said with alacrity. He went over to Carnelia and whispered to her. They withdrew to the side of the stage, where chairs had been placed for all three campaign managers. I studied the candidates. My heart was in the pit of my stomach. If Aahz did well in the debate, it could propel him so far ahead that he couldn’t help but be elected. I didn’t want him to leave M.Y.T.H., Inc., though I’d never interfere with his ambitions. He was by far the most forthright and vocal of the candidates. Against him the other two seemed so . . . weak.

  I noticed Mrs. Weavil Senior in the audience, clutching her handbag on her lap. Behind her were dozens of Emo supporters, each with a bag or some other container. To her left was Wilmer’s nephew and chief rabble rouser, plus numerous Wilmer fans in purple, similarly furnished with hold-alls and lunch buckets. I knew none of the latter actually contained anything that had been edible for at least a week.

  “Uh-oh,” I said. I soaked up plenty of magik from the force lines and started to weave a barrier to protect the candidates from the audience.

  “Don’t,” Bunny said.

  I gestured at the crowd, now in the thousands. “But they’ve got mud! And vegetables!”

  “Let it happen,” Bunny said. “This is everyone’s chance to get out everything that they’ve been holding in for a month. Goodness knows I feel like heaving a few turnips myself.”

  “All right,” I said. I let my magik die away, but I felt power building up all around me.

  Bunny stood up and tinkled her little silver bell. To my surprise, the entire audience quieted down so much that I could hear birdsong in the meadow beyond it.

  Her voice rang out and was carried by the Echoes to the rear of the crowd. “Welcome to the final event in Bokromi’s election circuit, the last debate between the candidates. On the left, please welcome the candidate for the Wisdom Party, Mr. Wilmer Weavil-Scuttil.”

  “Booo!” yelled an Emo supporter in the front row.

  “Yay!” bellowed the entire purple contingent.

  “On the right, Mr. Emo Weavil, from the Friendship Party.”

  “Booo!”

  “Yay!”

  “And finally, in the center, please welcome Aahz, candidate for the A Plague on Both Your Houses Party.”

  “Boooooooooo!” Both fan bases crowding the stage voiced their displeasure.

  “Yaaaaaay!” came from hundreds, if not thousands, of Tipps ranged behind them.

  “Let me just start by saying I shouldn’t be on the same stage as these losers,” Aahz said. “They might steal the wallet out of my pocket!”

  The crowd roared with laughter.

  “Now, just a minute!” Wilmer protested.

  “I’m not a loser!” Emo said. “And I don’t steal trash!”

  “Hold it!” I said. “First of all, the debate hasn’t started. Second, the public has let us know that they want honesty from you about your plans if you are elected governor.”

  Aahz produced a smile that showed all of his teeth. “Sure! I have all kinds of programs ready to go.”

  “As do I,” Wilmer said.

  “I have already been working on a project for my first hundred days in office,” Emo said.

  “Good,” I said, rising. I reached into my belt pouch. From it I took three little Xs made of gold. “Then you won’t mind putting these on.”

  Aahz recoiled. As an aficionado of Beliaz’s Joke Shop in the Bazaar, he surely knew what they were.

  “Now, wait just a minute, Skeeve. That’s not fair!”

  “What are they?” Emo asked.

  “Honesty Monitors,” Aahz said glumly. I pasted one to the middle of his chest.

  “Do you swear to tell the truth throughout this entire debate, cross your heart and hope to die?” I asked. Aahz gave me a sly look.

  “Well . . . I . . . Ow! All right, yes!” The little X dug its four tines into his skin. “You didn’t have to resort to measures like this!”

  “Yes, I did,” I said. “I’ve been reading the papers for the last week.”

  Aahz wobbled a hand in the air.

  “Maybe I did stretch the truth a little.” We both saw the X rear up again. “Okay! I lied through my teeth!”

  I swore in the other two and attached Honesty Monitors to them. When they were fixed in place, I stepped back.

  “Okay,” I said, dusting my hands together. “We can get started.”

  * * *

  “Mr. Weavil-Scuttil, you’re evading the question,” Bunny said, not for the first time. The stage was littered with expired vegetables and a spreading mud puddle my father’s pigs would have adored. The candidates had avoided many of the missiles, but plenty of them had struck home. Wilmer’s beautiful white coat was dyed red and green from the tomatoes and melons that had hit him. Emo had huge gray mud polka dots all over his gaudy clothes. Aahz’s face was encrusted with rotten garlic that no one but a Pervect could have tolerated. So far, our side of the stage was clear.

  Wilmer ducked sideways to avoid a mudball thrown by Emo’s mother. “Well, ma’am, it’s hard to think with things being thrown at me while being pinched by this fiendish contraption!”

  “Not Fiendish,” I pointed out. “Deveelish. Fiendish brooches don’t distinguish between truth and lies. They just hurt the person wearing them.”

  “I stand corrected,” Wilmer said. A stalk of celery, gray with age, came hurtling out of the crowd and winged his shoulder. “Confound it!”

  “Mr. Weavil-Scuttil, on what grounds do you call Aahz a ruthless profiteer?” Bunny asked again.

  “No one can ever say that I have called my opponent a ruthless profiteer,” Wilmer declared, hand high as if swearing an oath. “No, indeed! Nor have I referred to him as the scourge of all things decent. I leave my constituents to draw their own conclusions!”

  “You’re drawing things out pretty clearly for them,” Aahz said. “All the money that has been collected by my able associate, Shomi, has been used for my campaign, and to enrich the good people of Bokromi. Not one copper piece has gone into my pocket for personal gain.”

  He didn’t wince at all. The Honesty Monitor glowed. I was as surprised as anyone that what he said was true.

  “What about you, Mr. Weavil?” Bunny asked.
/>   Emo was just as forthright. He banged his fingertip down on his lectern. “I have not referred to my opposite number as an unscrupulous scalawag, a terror to society, and a blight on the landscape who causes drought just by looking at a field. No, I haven’t! And anyone who says I have will have to show me in writing just where I did.”

  “What do we know about this Pervert?” Wilmer added, pointing at Aahz. “Just what he tells us. We can’t check up on him. We don’t know if he’s bilked senior citizens out of their last coin. We don’t know if he inveigles schoolchildren into robbing houses for him. We have just his say-so, and the reputation of his people!”

  “I have a reputation for being completely honest and aboveboard in all my dealings,” Aahz said. He winced as the Honesty Monitor dug in. That one had to hurt. “Calling my character into question is definitely two pots making personal remarks about the kettle.”

  That provoked a barrage from the audience. Clumps of sod sailed toward Aahz. He flicked a finger at the incoming missiles. Most of them went flying to either side, further dirtying his opponents. I knew Shomi was behind his defense. She scarcely moved a muscle. I admired her control.

  “Both of them have held back giving straightforward reports to the press for weeks!” Aahz said. “Now, when I’m your governor, I will confer daily with the newspapers and other media. I want total transparency between the government and the people on the streets!”

  “We weren’t giving reports directly to the papers because they weren’t printing them!” Wilmer bellowed.

  “Do you deny you were holding back on them?”

  “Well, no . . .” Wilmer said.

  “Do you call that responsible campaigning?”

  “I . . . uh . . . All necessary information was conveyed through outside contractors! We got the word out in spite of the papers!”

  “So you decided to bypass the legitimate journals in favor of a scab performer and a bunch of messengers?” Aahz asked, rhetorically. “You might just as well have hired bloggers!”

  “Hired what?” Emo asked. He glanced at Orlow for help. The campaign manager shrugged. “What does the timber industry have to do with the press?”

  “Wood pulp is what they print on,” Wilmer said, dismissively.

  “I know that!”

  “Then why ask?

  Bunny brought them back into line with a shake of her bell. They all turned to look at her.

  “Can we get back to the original question?” she said, pointedly. “What are your plans to straighten out the finances of this island? They’ve been ignored for over five years. I’m sure the voters out there would like to hear your thoughts.”

  “Public safety is a chief concern,” Wilmer said. “I plan to assess where funding is needed and where it is not, then apply capital as seems appropriate to me.”

  “Sounds like a stunning revelation,” Aahz said. “If you like the obvious. Doesn’t it make sense to do a comprehensive audit and see where fat can be trimmed before talking about adding revenue?”

  “Fair enough, Mr. Aahz,” Wilmer said, holding on to his lapels. They were not as white as they had been at the beginning of the debate. “What about your plans to increase spending in the fire and rescue department?”

  “As far as I know, they’re just like yours,” Aahz said, nonchalantly. Wilmer’s nephew sent a bucket of slop hurtling toward him. Aahz flipped a hand, and the pail upended in the middle of the stage with a juicy splash. “Only without the added ten percent for the special interests. I’m not from around here, so I can budget without my feelings getting involved.”

  Wilmer sputtered. “Now, wait just a minute, my plans aren’t padded!”

  “So you didn’t leave any room for contingencies?” Aahz asked. “Tsk, tsk. I guess you saved all your planning to call me names. Would you say that was a pretty fair assessment?”

  The audience broke into spontaneous applause.

  “No! I . . . that’s not . . . he’s twisting my words!” Wilmer said.

  Aahz grinned. “They’re so eminently twistable.”

  BAMF!

  “Hey, Bunny-honey!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  “A rose by any other name still has thorns.”

  —A. TITCHMARSH

  Both Bunny and I turned in the direction of the voice. Cousin Sylvia appeared on the edge of the stage with Gascon the Deveel beside her. She wore a skin-tight green satin dress that rose about six inches above her knees. The tight skirt made it hard for her to climb the stairs, but she bustled up to us and leaned over to give me a kiss on the cheek. I tried hard not to look down her dress.

  “Hey, Skeevie-pie,” she said, fluffing up my hair with her long nails. “You’re looking divine.”

  “Uh, thanks, Sylvia,” I said, feeling my cheeks turn scarlet. “Look, we’ve got this debate going on . . .”

  Bunny was more direct.

  “Sylvia, we’re busy. Not now.”

  Sylvia pouted.

  “Yes, now. Uncle Bruce is in a sky-high snit, and your mother wants you there to help settle things. Skeeve can handle this silly little debate. Can’t you, Skeeeeevie-pie?”

  I was all too aware that everything she said could be heard by thousands of people in the audience. The three candidates and their managers grinned at me.

  “All right,” Bunny said, resigned. She gave me an apologetic glance. “Do you mind?”

  “No!” I said. “I hope it isn’t trouble.”

  “I hope not,” she said. “Thanks.” She passed the bell to me and followed Sylvia down the steps. Gascon drew his magik circle, and the three of them vanished.

  BAMF!

  “Okay,” I said, ringing the bell for order. “Let’s get back to the debate, all right?”

  “Sure, Skeeeeeve,” Aahz said, drawing out the vowel in my name, though he didn’t continue the jeer.

  “Yes, sir!” Emo said. “To answer the question that my opponents have already covered, I say that it will be incumbent upon me as governor to make public inquiries, comprehensive ones, to see what the people are thinking! I want to know what they need as well as what they want!”

  “Are you kidding?” Aahz said. “Given a chance, the public will always vote itself a raise. Now, I have no intention of asking anyone what I should be spending. They’ll find out when the bill hits the legislature. They’re electing me to make the hard decisions for them, and I will.”

  Emo frowned at him. “I thought you just said you favored transparency in government.”

  Aahz looked taken aback. “That’s not exactly what I said!”

  “But you did! It was just a few minutes ago.”

  Aahz leaned over the lectern and grinned at the audience as if taking them into his confidence. “You must have heard me wrong.”

  The crowd wearing yellow Vote for Aahz ribbons laughed.

  “No, I’m sure that’s exactly what you said!”

  Aahz’s fans threw water bladders at Emo. The Friendship Party candidate went wide-eyed when he saw them coming. He ducked underneath his lectern.

  SPLASH!

  When he came up again, his fur was plastered to his skull. At least the water had washed some of the mud off.

  “Not only that,” Aahz added, “I favor restricting information when it might be unnecessarily embarrassing to my administration.”

  “Okay, Aahz,” I said, holding up a hand. “I heard you, too. You’re contradicting yourself.”

  “With this thing doing an outpatient coronary bypass on me?” Aahz asked, pointing at the Honesty Monitor. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I don’t know how you’re scamming it, but stop it.”

  Aahz turned to his fans. “Do you think that sounds fair and impartial? It doesn’t sound impartial to me.”

  “Boooo, Skeeve! Boooo, Skeeve!” the crowd chanted.

  Suddenly, bushels of leaking tomatoes came hurtling in my direction. I threw up the biggest magik shield I could make. Just before they hit it, I felt it dissipa
te. I was left openmouthed as the tomatoes struck and exploded, covering my hair, my face, and my clothes with acid juice. I fell backward to the stage. The tomatoes were followed by soggy grapes, mushy peaches, and wilting lettuce. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed for my chair. My shoes slid in the ankle-deep mound of sludge. I wiped my face and glared at Aahz.

  “Don’t look at me,” Aahz said, his face blank with innocence. “You know I couldn’t have done that.”

  I felt my temper rising.

  “Well, if you—?”

  Another would-be compost heap catapulted toward me. I fell to my knees. I pictured a steel umbrella over my head and pushed all the power I had into it.

  TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK TWACK!

  SPLUSH!

  My umbrella gave out unexpectedly. The rain of rotting vegetation covered me like a shower of manure. I squeezed my eyes closed until the pelting stopped. I spat out sweet, mealy pulp. I smelled like the back room of a tavern. My feet slipping with every step, I stood up and confronted the candidates.

  “Who did that?” I demanded. I looked at Emo and Wilmer. Both Tipps were grinning like idiots. “Which one of you was responsible for that?”

  They pointed at each other.

  “I promise you, sir,” Wilmer said, his lips twitching, “I did not deprive you of your protective spell, nor did I heave a single piece of produce in your direction.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Emo said, fluttering his false eyelashes. “You’re our judge! I treat you with respect! Ooch!” He clutched his chest, and held up a hand in surrender. “Perhaps I encouraged my fans a little. I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!”

  “All right,” I said, fighting down my ire. Bunny would be angry with me if I lost my temper again. “That’s a point against you. Let’s get started again.”