MA05 Myth-ing Persons

by Robert Asprin

  I heaved a quiet sigh inside and leaned back to wait, propping my feet up on a chair. This particular quarrel was old before Vilhelm had left on his shopping trip, and I was tired going over it again and again.

  “Be reasonable, Aahz,” Tananda said, taking up the slack for me. “You know we can’t wander around town like this ... especially you with half the city looking for you. We need disguises, and without a decent power source, Skeeve here can’t handle disguises for all of us. Besides, it’s not like we’re using mechanical magic. We won’t be using magic at all.”

  “That’s what everybody keeps telling me,” my partner growled. “We’re just going to alter our appearances without using spells. That sounds like mechanical magic to me. Do you know what’s going to happen to our reputations if word of this gets back to the Bazaar? Particularly with most of the competition looking for a chance to splash a little mud on the Great Skeeve’s name? Remember, we’re already getting complaints that our prices are too high, and if this gets out ...”

  The light dawned. I could finally see what was eating at Aahz. I should have known there was money at the bottom of this.

  “But Aahz,” I chimed in, “our fees are overpriced. I’ve been saying that for months. I mean, it’s not like we need the money ...”

  “... and I’ve been telling you for months that it’s the only way to keep the riffraff from draining away all your practice time,” he shot back angrily. “Remember, your name’s supposed to be the Great Skeeve, not the Red Cross. You don’t do charity.”

  Now we were on familiar ground. Unlike the disguise thing, this was one argument I never tired of.

  “I’m not talking about charity,” I said. “I’m talking about a fair fee for services rendered.”

  “Fair fee?” my partner laughed, rolling his eyes. “You mean like that deal you cut with Whatshisname? Did he ever tell you about that one, Tananda? We catch a silly bird for this Deveel, see, and my partner charges him a flat fee. Not a percentage, mind you, a flat fee. And how much of a flat fee? A hundred gold pieces? A thousand. No. TEN. Ten lousy gold pieces. And half an hour later the Deveel sells his ‘poor little bird’ for over a hundred thousand. Nice to know we don’t do charity, isn’t it?”

  “C’mon, Aahz,” I argued, writhing inside. “That was only five minutes’ work. How was I supposed to know the silly bird was on the endangered species list? Even you thought it was a good deal until we heard what the final sale was. Besides, if I had held out for a percentage and the Deveel had been legit and never sold the thing, we wouldn’t have even gotten ten gold pieces out of it.”

  “I never heard the details from your side,” Tananda said, “but what I picked up on the streets that everybody at the Bazaar was really impressed. Most folks think that it’s a masterstroke of PR for the hottest magician at the Bazaar to help bring a rarity to the public for a mere fraction of his normal fees. It shows he’s something other than a cold-hearted businessman ... that he really cares about people.”

  “So what’s wrong with being a cold-hearted businessman?” Aahz snorted. “How about the other guy? Everybody thinks he’s a villain, and he’s crying all the way to the bank. He retired on the profit from that one sale alone.”

  “Unless Nanny misled me horribly when she taught me my numbers,” Chumley interrupted, “I figure your current bankroll could eat that fellow’s profit and still have room for lunch. Any reason you’re so big on squirreling away so much gold, Aahz? Are you planning on retiring?”

  “No, I’m not planning on retiring,” my partner snapped. “And you’re missing the point completely. Money isn’t the object.”

  “It isn’t?”

  I think everybody grabbed that line at the same time ... even Pepe, who hadn’t known Aahz all that long.

  “Of course not. You can always get more gold. That can’t be replaced is time. We all know Skeeve here has a long way to go in the magic department. What the rest of you keep forgetting is how short a life span he has to play with ... maybe a hundred years if he’s lucky. All I’m trying to do is get him the maximum learning time possible ... and that means keeping him from using up most of his time on nickel-and-dime adventures. Let the small-time operators do those. My partner shouldn’t have to budge away from his studies unless the assignment is something really spectacular. Something that will advance his reputation and his career.”

  There was a long silence while everybody digested that one, especially me. Since Aahz had accepted me as a full partner instead of an apprentice, I tended to forget his role as my teacher and career manager. Thinking back now, I could see he had never really given up the work, just gotten sneakier. I wouldn’t have believed that was possible.

  “How about this particular nickel-and-dime adventure?” Tananda said, breaking the silence. “You know, pulling your tail out of a scrape? Isn’t this a little low-brow for the kind of legend you’re trying to build?”

  The sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable, but it didn’t faze Aahz in the least.

  “If you’ll ask around, you’ll find out that I didn’t want him along on this jaunt at all. In fact, I knocked him cold trying to keep him out. A top-flight magician shouldn’t have to stoop to bill collecting, especially when the risk is disproportionately high.”

  “Well, it all sounds a little cold-blooded for my taste, Aahz,” Chumley put in. “If you extend your logic, our young friend here is only going to work when the danger is astronomically high, and conversely if the advancement to his career is enough, no risk is too great. That sounds to me like a sure-fire way to lose a partner and a friend. Like the Geek says, if you keep bucking the odds, sooner or later they’re going to catch up with you.”

  My partner spun to confront the troll nose-to-nose.

  “Of course it’s going to be dangerous,” he snarled. “The magic profession isn’t for the faint of heart, and to hit the top he’s going to have to be hair-triggered and mean. There’s no avoiding that, but I can try to be sure he’s ready for it. Why do you think I’ve been so dead-set against him having bodyguards? If he starts relying on other people to watch out for him, he’s going to lose the edge himself. That’s when he’s in danger of walking into a swinging door.

  That brought Guido into the fray.

  “Now let me see if I’ve got this right,” my bodyguard said. “You don’t want me and my cousin Nunzio around so that the Boss here can handle all the trouble himself? That’s crazy talk, know what I mean? Now listen to me, ‘cause this time I know what I’m sayin’. The higher someone gets on the ladder, the more folks come huntin’ for his head. Even if they don’t do nothin’ they got people gunning for them, ‘cause they got power and respect and there’s always somebody who thinks they can steal it. Now I’ve seen some of the Big Guys who try to act just like you’re sayin’ ... they’re so scared all the time they don’t trust nothin’ or nobody. The only one they can count on is themselves and everybody else is suspect. That includes total strangers, their own bodyguards, their friends, and their partners. Think about that for a minute.”

  He leaned back and surveyed the room, addressing his next comments to everyone.

  “People like that don’t last long. They don’t trust nobody, so they got nobody. Ya can’t do everything alone, and sooner or later they’re lookin’ the wrong way or asleep when they should be watchin’ and it’s all over. Now I’ve done a lot of jobs as a bodyguard, and they were just jobs, know what I mean? The Boss here is different, and I’m not just sayin’ that. He’s the best man I’ve met in my whole life because he likes people and ain’t afraid to show it. More important, he ain’t afraid to risk his neck to help somebody even if it is in his best interest. I work double hard for him because I don’t want to see anything happen to him ... and if that means comin’ along on weird trips like this, then that’s the way it is. Anybody that wants to hurt him is gonna have to come through me ... and that includes fight
in’ any of you if you want to try to turn him into somethin’ he isn’t and doesn’t want to be.”

  Massha broke in with a loud clapping of her hands.

  “Bravo, Guido,” she said. “I think your problem, Green and Scaly, is that your idea of success is out of step with everyone else’s. We all want to see good things happen for Skeeve, here, but we also like him just the way he is. We’ve got enough faith in his good sense to back him in whatever move he makes in his development ... without trying to frog-march or trick him up a specific path.”

  Aahz not only gave ground before this onslaught of protest, he seemed to shrink in a little on himself.

  “I like him too,” he mumbled. “I’ve known him longer than any of you, remember? He’s doing fine, but he could be so much more. How can he choose a path if he can’t see it? All I’m trying to do is set him up to be bigger than I ... than we could ever think of being ourselves. What’s wrong with that?”

  Despite my irritation at having my life discussed as if I weren’t in the room, I was quite touched, by my friends’ loyal defense of me, and most of all by Aahz.

  “You know, partner,” I said softly, “for a minute there, you sounded just like my father. He wanted me to be the best ... or more specifically, to be better than he was. My mom always tried to tell me that it was because he loved me, but at that time it just sounded like he was always being critical. Maybe she was right ... I’m more inclined to believe it today than I was then, but then again, I’m older now. If nothing else, I’ve had to try to tell people I love them when the words just won’t come ... and gotten upset with myself when they couldn’t see it when I tried to show them.

  “Aahz, I appreciate your concern and I want your guidance. You’re right; there are paths and options I can’t even comprehend yet. But I also have to choose my own way. I want to be better eventually than I am today, but not necessarily the best. I think Guido’s right, there’s a big price tag attached to being at the top, and I’d want to think long and hard if I wanted to pay it ... even if I was convinced I could, which I’m not. I do know that if it means giving up the trust I have in you and everybody else in this room, I’ll settle for being a nickel-and-dime operator. That price I’ll never pay willingly.”

  Silence started to descend again as each of us retreated into his or her own thoughts, then the werewolf bounded into the middle of the assemblage.

  “But what is this, eh?” he demanded. “Surely this cannot be ze great team of Aahz and Skeeve, ze ones who can laugh at any dan-gair?”

  “You know, Pepe,” Aahz said warningly, “you’ve got a great future as a stuffed head.”

  “My head?” The werewolf blinked. “But she is not ... oohh. I see now. You make ze joke, eh? Good. Zat is more like it.”

  “... and as far as laughing at danger goes,” I joined in, determined to hold up my end of the legend, “the only danger I see here is dying of boredom. Where is Vilhelm anyway?”

  “I know you and Aahz are fond of each other, Skeeve,” Chumley yawned, “but you’ve got to spend more time with other people. You’re starting to sound like him. Maybe you can tag along the next time I have an assignment.”

  “Over my dead body,” my partner said. “Besides, what could he learn from a troll that I couldn’t teach him myself?”

  “I could teach him not to catch birds for Deveels for ten gold pieces,” the troll grinned, winking at his sister. “That seems to be a part of his education you’ve neglected.”

  “Izzat so!” my partner bristled. “You’re going to teach him about price setting? How about the time you set your own sister up to steal an elephant without bothering to check ...”

  And they were off again. As I listened, I found myself reflecting on the fact that while it was nice to know the depths of my friends’ feelings about me, it was far more comfortable when they managed to conceal it under a cloak of banter. For the most part, open sincerity is harder to take than friendly laughter.

  THINGS WERE PRETTY much back to normal by the time Vilhelm returned with our disguises ... which was a good thing as the process of masking-up proved to be a test of everybody’s sense of humor.

  Until I had hooked up with Aahz, I had never had occasion to pretend I was anyone but myself. As such, I had no way of knowing how long it took to don a physical disguise without resorting to magic. By the time we were done, I had a new respect for the skills I had learned, not to mention a real longing for a dimension ... any dimension with a strong force line to work with.

  Tananda was a major help, her experiences with the assassin’s guild came into play and she took the lead in trying to coach us into our new roles.

  “Guido, straighten up!” she commanded, exasperation creeping into her voice. “You walk like a gangster.”

  “I am a gangster!” my bodyguard snarled back. “Besides, what’s wrong with the way I walk? It got us to the jail, didn’t it?”

  “Half the town wasn’t looking for you then,” Tananda argued. “Besides, then you could pick your own route. We don’t know where the opposition’s holed up. We’re going to have to walk through crowds on this hunt, and that walk just doesn’t make it. Ninety percent of costuming is learning to move like the character you’re trying to portray. Right now you move like you’re looking for a fight.”

  “Try walking like Don Bruce,” I suggested. “He’s a gangster, too.”

  That earned me a black look, but my bodyguard tried to follow my instructions, rising up on the balls of his feet and mincing along.

  “Better,” Tananda said, leaving Guido prancing up and down the room with a scowl on his face.

  “How are we doing?”

  “Lousy,” she confided in me. “This is taking a lot longer than it should. I wish there were more mirrors in this place ... heck, any mirrors would be nice.”

  It hadn’t been until we started gearing up that we realized the Dispatcher had no mirrors at all. He claimed they weren’t popular or necessary among vampires. This left us with the unenviable job of checking each others’ make-up and costumes, a chore which would have been Homeric even if less sensitive egos were involved.

  “How’re my teeth?” Massha demanded, sticking her head in front of me and opening her mouth.

  It was like staring into the depths of an underground cave.

  “Umm ... the left side is okay, but you’re still missing a few on the right. Hang on a second and I’ll give you a hand.”

  Teeth were turning out to be a special problem. We had hoped to find some of the rubber fangs so prevalent in the Bazaar novelty stores to aid in our disguises. Unfortunately, none of the shops in Blut had them. The closest thing they had in stock, according to Vilhelm, were rubber sets of human teeth designed to fit over fangs. The vampire assured us that locally they were considered quite frightening. Faced by this unforeseen shortage, we were resorting to using tooth black to blacken all our teeth except the canines for a close approximation of the vampires we were trying to imitate. When we tried it out, it wasn’t a bad effect, but the actual application was causing countless problems. When one tried to apply the stuff on oneself without a mirror, it was difficult to get the right teeth, and if one called on one’s friends for assistance, one rapidly found that said friend was soon possessed by an overpowering impulse to paint one’s tongue black instead of the teeth.

  “I don’t like this cloak,” Guido announced, grabbing my arm. “I want to wear my trench coat.”

  “Vampires don’t wear trench coats,” I said firmly. “Besides, the cloak really looks great on you. Makes you look ... I don’t know, debonair but menacing.”

  “Yeah?” he retorted skeptically, craning his neck to try to see himself.

  “You think you’ve got problems?” Massha burst in. “Look at what I’m supposed to wear! I’ll trade your cloak for this rig any day.”

  As you might have noticed, the team was
having more than a little difficulty adapting to their disguises. Massha in particular was rebelling against her costume.

  After having been floated over our escape like a balloon over a parade, we feared that she would be one of the most immediately recognizable of our group. As such, we not only dyed her garish orange hair, we insisted that her new costume cover as much of her as possible. To this end, Vilhelm had found a dress he called a “moo-moo,” a name which did nothing toward endearing the garment to my apprentice.

  “I mean, really, High Roller,” she said, backing me toward a corner. “Isn’t it bad enough that half the town’s seen me as a blimp? Tell me I don’t have to be a cow now.”

  “Honest, Massha,” Vilhelm put in. “The style is fairly popular here in Blut. A lot of the ladies wear it who are ... that is, are a bit ...”

  “Fat!?”

  She loomed over the little vampire.

  “Is that the word you’re groping for, Short and About To Become Extinct?”

  “Let’s face it, dear,” Tananda said, coming to the rescue. “You are carrying a little extra weight there. Believe me, if there’s one time you can’t kid yourself about your body, it’s when you’re donning costumes. If anything, that outfit makes you look a little slimmer.”

  “Don’t try to kid a kidder, sweetie,” Massha sighed. “But you’re right about the costuming thing. This thing is so drab, though. First I’m a blimp, and now I’m an army tent.”

  “Now that I’ll agree with,” Tananda nodded. “Trust a man to find a drab mu-mu. Tell you what. There’s a scarf I was going to use for a belt, but maybe you could wear it around your neck.”

  I was afraid that last crack would touch off another explosion, but Massha took it as a helpful suggestion and the two of them went off in search of other possible adornments.

  “Got a minute, partner?”