MA04 Hit or Myth

by Robert Asprin

  “HEY GUIDO! How’s it going?”

  The big bodyguard spun around, scanning the crowd to see who had hailed him by name. When he saw me, his face brightened.

  “Mister Skeeve!”

  “Never expected to run into you here!” I lied.

  From Gus’s description, I had known that both Guido and his cousin Nunzio were part of the Mob’s contingent at the Bazaar. This ‘chance meeting’ was the result of nearly half a day’s worth of searching and following rumors.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked confidentially. “Shopping for a few little items to wow ‘em with back at Possiltum?”

  “Just taking a bit of a vacation. That new queen and I don’t get along so well. I thought things might ease up if I disappeared for a while.”

  “Too bad. If you was shoppin’, I could line you up with some ‘special deals,’ if you know what I mean.”

  “You guys are really moving in, then?” I marveled. “How is it going? Any problems?”

  “Naw,” the bodyguard bragged, puffing out his chest. “You was right. These Deveels are like shopkeepers anywhere. Lean on ‘em a little and they fall in line.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re handling this all by yourself! I mean, I know you’re good, but ...”

  “Are you kiddin’? I’m an executive now ... well, at least a team leader. Both Nunzio and me have a dozen men to order around, courtesy of our ‘extensive knowledge of the Bazaar.’ Pretty good, huh?”

  “You mean you’re running the whole operation?”

  “That’s Shai-ster’s job. Me and Nunzio report to him, but it’s us gives the orders to the boys.”

  I looked around expectantly.

  “Is your team around? I’d like to meet them.”

  “Naw. We worked this area a couple days ago. I’m on my way to meet ‘em and give out today’s assignments. We’re going after the area by the livestock pens today.”

  “How about Nunzio’s team?”

  “They’re about three hours west of here. You know, this is a really big place!”

  I put on my most disappointed face.

  “Too bad, I would have liked to have met some of the ones who do the real work.”

  “Tell ya’ what,” Guido exclaimed, “why don’t you drop by Fat’s Spaghetti Parlor sometimes? That’s where we’re all hanging out. If we’re not there, they can tell you where we are.”

  “I’ll do that. Well, don’t work too hard ... and be careful. These guys can be meaner than they look.”

  “Piece of cake,” he laughed as he headed off.

  I was still waving merrily at his retreating figure as the rest of my ‘gang’ faded out of the crowd around me.

  “Did you get all that?” I asked out of the corner of my mouth.

  “Two teams, neither one in this area. Shai-ster’s running the show and therefore holding the bag,” Tananda recited. “This area is both clear and under protection.”

  “Fat’s Spaghetti Parlor is their headquarters, which is where we can find Shai-ster,” Chumly completed. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah,” Aahz grinned. “Skeeve has a standing invite to drop by, and when he does, they’re ready to tell him which team is working what area that day. Nice work.”

  “Lucky,” I admitted with no embarrassment. “Well, shall we start?”

  “Right,” Aahz nodded. “Just like we planned, Tananda and Chumly are a team. Gus, you’re with me. Skeeve and Massha, you start here. We all move out in different directions and space our hits so there’s no pattern. Okay?”

  “One more thing,” I added. “Keep an eye on your disguises.

  I’m not sure of the exact range I can hold that spell at. If your disguise starts to fade, change direction to parallel mine.”

  “We meet back at the Yellow Crescent Inn,” Gus finished. “And all of you watch your backs. I don’t stock that much first aid gear.”

  “Good thought,” I said. “Okay. Enough talk. Let’s scatter and start giving the Mob a headache.”

  The other two teams had melted into the crowd of shoppers before I had even turned to Massha.

  “Well, anything catch your eye for us to have a go at?”

  “You know, you’re starting to sound a bit like that troll.”

  That sounded a bit more abrupt than was Massha’s normal style. I studied her curiously.

  “Something bothering you?”

  “Just a little nervous, I guess,” she admitted. “Has it occurred to you that this plan has a major flaw? That to implement it potentially means getting the entire Bazaar after us, as well as the Mob?”

  “Yes, it has.”

  “Doesn’t it scare you?”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Well, how do you handle it?”

  “By thinking about it as little as possible,” I said flatly. “Look, apprentice, aside from doing shtick in court for the amusement of the masses, this profession of ours is pretty dangerous. If we start dwelling on everything that can go wrong in the future, we’ll either never move or blunder headlong into the present because our minds aren’t on what we’re doing right now. I try to be aware of the potential danger of a situation, but I don’t worry about trouble until it happens. It’s a little shaky, but it’s worked so far.”

  “If you say so,” she sighed. “Oh well, gear me up and let’s get started.”

  With a pass of my mind, I altered her features. Instead of being a massive woman, she was now a massive man ... sort of. I had been experimenting with color lately, so I made her purple with reddish sideburns that ran all the way down her arms to her knuckles. Add some claw-like horns at the points of the ears and rough-textured, leathery skin on the face and hands, and you had a being I wouldn’t want to mess with.

  “Interesting,” Massha grimaced, surveying what she could see of herself. “Did you make this up yourself, or is there a nasty dimension I haven’t visited yet?”

  “My own creation,” I admitted. “The reputation you’re going to build I wouldn’t wish on any dimension I know of. Call it a Hoozit from the dimension Hoo.”

  “Who?”

  “You’ve got it.”

  She rolled her eyes in exasperation.

  “Hot stuff, do me a favor and only teach me magic, okay? Keep your sense of humor for yourself. I’ve already got enough enemies.”

  “We still need a target,” I said, slightly hurt.

  “How about that one? It looks breakable.”

  I looked where she was pointing and nodded.

  “Good enough. Give me a twenty count head start. If they’re not protected, I’ll be back out. If you don’t see me in twenty, they’re fair game. Do your worst.”

  “You know, she smiled, rubbing her hands together, “this could be fun.”

  “Just remember that I’m in there before you decide exactly what today’s ‘worst’ is.”

  The display she had chosen was a small, three-sided tent with a striped top. It was lined with shelves that were crowded with an array of stoppered bottles of all sizes and colors. As I entered, I noticed was something in each of the bottles—smoky things that shifted as if they were alive.

  “May I help you, sahr?” The Deveel proprietor asked, baring what he doubtless thought was a winning smile.

  “Just browsing,” I yawned. “Actually, I’m seeking refuge from gossip. All anyone can talk about is this pack of ruffians that’s selling insurance.”

  The Deveel’s face darkened and he spat out the door.

  “Insurance! Extortion I call it. They ruined two of my treasures before I could stop them long enough to subscribe to their services. It was a dark day when they first appeared at the Bazaar.”

  “Yes, yes. Believe me, I’ve heard it before.”

  Having established that this shop was indeed under the protecti
on of the Mob, I turned my attention to the displays.

  With studied nonchalance, I plucked up a small bottle, no more than a hand’s-width high, and peered at the contents. Murky movement and a vague sparkle met my gaze.

  “Be careful,” the proprietor cautioned. “Once a Djin is released, it can only be controlled if you address it by name.”

  “A Djin?”

  The Deveel swept me with a speculative gaze. Since I wasn’t doing the heavy work, I wasn’t in disguise and looked like ... well, me.

  “I believe in Klah, they’re referred to as Genies.”

  “Oh. You have quite a collection here.”

  The Deveel preened at the praise.

  “Do not be fooled by the extent of my poor shop’s selection, young sahr. They are extremely rare. I personally combed the far reaches of every dimension ... at great personal expense, I might add ... to find these few specimens worthy of ...”

  I had been wondering when Massha was going to make her entrance. Well, she made it. Hoo-boy, did she make it. Right through the side of the tent.

  With an almost musical chorus, the stand along that wall went over, dumping the bottles onto the floor. The released Djin rose in a cloud and poured out the open tent side, shrieking with inhuman joy as they went.

  The Deveel was understandably upset.

  “You idiot!” he shrieked. “What are you doing?”

  “Pretty weak shelves,” Massha muttered in a gravelly-bass voice.

  “Weak shelves?”

  “Sure. I mean, all I did was this ...”

  She shoved one of the remaining two shelves, which toppled obligingly into the last display.

  This time the Djin didn’t even bother using the door. They streaked skyward, taking the top of the tent with them as they screamed their way to freedom.

  “My stock! My tent! Who’s going to pay for this?”

  “That’s Hoozit,” Massha retorted, “and I’m certainly not going to pay. I don’t have any money.”

  “No money?” the proprietor gasped.

  “No. I just came in here to get out of the rain.”

  “Rain? Rain? But it isn’t raining!”

  “It isn’t?” my apprentice blinked. “Then, good-bye.”

  With that she ambled off, making a hole in yet another tent side as she went.

  The Deveel sank down in the shattered remains of his display and cradled his face in his hands.

  “I’m ruined!” he moaned. “Ruined!”

  “Excuse me for asking,” I said. “But why didn’t you call out their names and get them under control?”

  “Call out their names? I can’t remember the name of every Djin I collect. I have to look them up each time I sell one.”

  “Well, at least that problem’s behind you.”

  That started him off again.

  “Ruined!” he repeated needlessly. “What am I going to do?”

  “I really don’t know why you’re so upset,” I observed. “Weren’t you just saying that you were insured?”

  “Insured?”

  The Deveel’s head came up slowly.

  “Certainly. You’re paying to be sure things like this don’t happen, aren’t you? Well, it happened. It seems to me whoever’s protecting your shop owes you an explanation, not to mention quite a bit of money.”

  “That’s right!” the proprietor was smiling now. “More the latter than the former, but you’re right!”

  I had him going on now. All that was left to be done was the coup de grace.

  “Tell you what. Just so your day won’t be a total washout, I’ll take this one. Now you won’t have to stay open with just one Djin in stock.”

  I flipped him the smallest coin in my pouch. True to his heritage, he was sneering even as he plucked it out of the air.

  “You can’t be serious,” he said. “This? For a Djin? That doesn’t even cover the cost of the bottle!”

  “Oh come, come, my good man,” I argued. “We’re both men of the world ... or dimensions. We both know that’s clear profit.”

  “It is?” he frowned.

  “Of course,” I said, gesturing at the broken glass on the floor. “No one can tell how many bottles were just broken. I know you’ll just include this one on the list of lost stock and collect in full from your insurance in addition to what I just gave you. In fact, you could probably add five or six to the total if you were really feeling greedy.”

  “That’s true,” the Deveel murmured thoughtfully. “Hey, thanks! This might not turn out so bad after all.”

  “Don’t mention it,” I shrugged, studying the small bottle in my hand. “Now that we’re in agreement on the price, though, could you look up the name of my Djin?”

  “I don’t have to. That one’s new enough that I can remember. Its name is Kalvin.”

  “Kalvin?”

  “Hey, don’t laugh. It’s the latest thing in Djins.”

  “WELL, EXCEPT for that, how are things going?”

  “Except for that?” Shai-ster echoed incredulously. “Except for that? Except for that things are going rotten. This whole project is a disaster.”

  “Gee, that’s tough,” I said, with studied tones of sympathy.

  I had gotten to be almost a permanent fixture here at Fat’s Spaghetti Palace. Every night I dropped by to check the troops’ progress ... theirs and mine.

  It was nice to be able to track the effectiveness of your activities by listening to the enemy gripe about them. It was even nicer to be able to plan your next move by listening to counter-attacks in the discussion stage.

  “I still don’t get it,” Guido protested, gulping down another enormous fork-full of spaghetti. “Everything was goin’ terrific at first. No trouble at all. Then BOOM, it hits the fan, know what I mean?”

  “Yeah! It was like someone was deliberately workin’ to put us out of business.”

  That last was from cousin Nunzio. For the longest time I thought he was physically unable to talk. Once he got used to having me around, though, he opened up a little. In actuality, Nunzio was shy, a fact which was magnified by his squeaky little voice which seemed out of place coming from a muscleman.

  “I warned you that Deveels can be a nasty lot,” I said, eager to get the subject away from the possibility of organized resistance. “And if the shopkeepers are sneaky, it only stands to reason that the local criminal element would have to have a lot on the ball. Right, Guido?”

  “That’s right,” the goon nodded vigorously, strands of spaghetti dangling from his mouth. “We criminal types can beat any honest citizen at anything. Say, did I ever tell you about the time Nunzio and me were ...”

  “Shut up, dummy!” Shai-ster snapped. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re footing the bill for these local amateurs. We’re getting our brains beat out financially, and it’s up to you boys to catch up with the opposition and return the favor ... physically.”

  “They’re scared of us,” Guido insisted. “Wherever we are, they aren’t. If we can’t find ‘em, they can’t be doin’ that much damage.”

  “You know, brains never were your long suit, Guido,” Shai-ster snarled. “Let me run this past you once real slow. So far, we’ve paid out six times as much as we’ve taken in. Add all our paychecks and expenses to that, and you might have a glimmer as to why the Big Boys are unhappy.”

  “But we haven’t been collecting very long. After we’ve expanded our clientele ...”

  “We’ll be paying claims on that many more businesses,” Shai-ster finished grimly. “Don’t give me that ‘we’ll make it up on volume’ guff. Either an operation is self-supporting and turning a profit from the beginning or it’s in trouble. And we’re in trouble so deep, even if we could breathe through the tops of our heads we’d still be in trouble.”

  “Maybe if we got some
more boys from back home ...”Nunzio began.

  Shai-ster slapped his hand down on the table, stopping his lieutenant short.

  “No more overhead!” he shouted. “I’m having enough trouble explaining our profit/loss statement to the Big Boys without the bottom line getting any worse. Not only are we not going to get any more help, we’re going to start trimming our expenses, and I mean right now. Tell the boys to ... what are you grinning at?”

  This last was directed at me.

  “Oh, nothing,” I said innocently. “It’s just that for a minute there you sounded just like someone I know back on Klah ... name of Grimble.”

  “J. R. Grimble?” Shai-ster blinked.

  Now it was my turn to be surprised.

  “Why yes. He’s the Chancellor of the Exchequer back at Possiltum. Why, do you know him?”

  “Sure. We went to school together. Chancellor of the Exchequer, huh? Not bad. If I had known he was working the court of Possiltum, I would have stuck around and said ‘hi’ when I was there.”

  Somehow, the thought of Shai-ster and Grimble knowing each other made me uneasy. There wasn’t much chance of the two of them getting together and comparing notes, and even if they did, Grimble didn’t know all that much about my modus operandi. Still, it served as a grim reminder that this was a very risky game I was playing, with some very dangerous people.

  “I still think there’s another gang out there somewhere,” Nunzio growled. “There’s too much going down for it to be independent operators.”

  “You’re half right,” Shai-ster corrected. “There’s too much going down for it to be a gang. Nobody’s into that many things ... not even us!”

  “You lost me there, Shai-ster,” I said, genuinely curious. The mobster favored me with a patronizing smile.

  “That’s right. As a magician, you don’t know that much about how organized crime works. Let me try to explain. When the Mob decides to move in, we hit one specialty field at a time ...you know, like protection or the numbers. Like that. Focusing our efforts yields a better saturation as well as market penetration.”