Class Dis-Mythed m-16

by Robert Asprin

  He leveled a pair of hard eyes on me, all trace of laughter gone.

  "Just get 'em down here," he said. "Let me worry about how respectful they are."

  I looked at Bunny and shrugged.

  "Roust the students," I said. "Tell them we have a surprise guest lecturer."

  By the time the class was assembled around the table, Don Bruce and I were standing against the wall, conversing in low tones. I was asking him about what he thought would be an appropriate introduction, while he kept insisting that I keep my comments to a bare minimum and let him handle the rest. That sounded vaguely ominous to me, but I had little choice but to go along with him.

  As I turned to the group, my heart sank. The three Pervects had their heads together, giggling as they shot glances at Don Bruce, and Melvine was leaning back with his arms crossed with an "impress me" expression on his face, and Tolk was chewing at an itch on his foot. In fact, the only one who looked remotely attentive was Bee, who was watching Don Bruce with a thoughtful, puzzled expression.

  "All right, class," I said, raising my voice, "I apologize for the short notice, but I didn't know this speaker would be available until he dropped in for a visit. This is Bunny's uncle, a successful businessman here on Klah, and he's offered to share his insights with us on operating in the real world."

  I nodded to Don Bruce and stepped back, mentally crossing my fingers.

  He stepped up to the table and took a drink of wine before starting.

  There was a titter of laughter from the Pervects.

  "Yes, ladies?" he asked, looking directly at them. "Was there something you wanted to ask before I started?"

  "I was just wondering where you got your outfit," Jinetta said with a grin.

  "Yes," Pologne added. "Do you always dress like this, or is this special for our class?"

  This set the three of them to giggling again.

  "I dress this way because I want to," Don Bruce said calmly after the giggles had subsided. "When you reach a given level in the real world, you get to do that. In my mind, it's better than dressing to blend with or imitate any given group, or to rebel against an established norm."

  "Exactly what line of magik are you in?" Melvine asked, a note of skeptical challenge in his voice.

  "I don't dabble in it myself," came the response. "When necessary, I hire it done."

  "Then why should we listen—" Melvine began then seemed to think better of it. "Then exactly what kind of business are you in?"

  "You might say I head a little family business," Don Bruce said with a tight smile. "Actually, it's not so little. More like what you would call a mob."

  There was a moment's silence as the class exchanged glances.

  "Excuse me," Melvine said, his tone cautious. "Are we talking about organized crime here?"

  "Maybe that's what it's called from the outside," the Don said. "When you see it close up, like from the inside, it ain't really all that organized."

  "Um, sir?" Bee said, holding up a cautious hand. "Would your name by any chance be Don Bruce?"

  "Guilty as charged," the Don said with a nod, then he winked at me. "That's something you won't hear me say very often."

  My students were murmuring back and forth, their tone and manner noticeably more subdued.

  "Now then," Don Bruce said, returning his attention to the class, "I believe you were about to ask why you should listen to me. Before I answer that, let me ask all of you a question. Why did you all want to study under Skeeve here?"

  That took everyone aback. For a moment, no one spoke. Then they all tried to talk at once.

  "My aunt told me—"

  "Well, I heard—"

  "Everyone knows—"

  Don Bruce silenced them all with a wave of his hand.

  "Let's start at the top," he said. "Mostly, each of you wants to increase his or her value on the job market. Right?"

  There was a round of nods from the class.

  "To my thinking," he continued, "what that actually breaks down to is the acquisition and use of power."

  The nods were slower, and Bee raised his hand.

  "Um, not to disagree, sir," he said, "but I just want to help people. I thought that studying under Skeeve would help me to do that better."

  "Good answer," the Don nodded. "Very admirable. But you don't see many weak or poor people helping others, no matter how nice they may be as people. To help others, you have to be in a position to be able to help, and that gets back to what I was saying, acquiring and using power. See what I mean?"

  "I—I think so," Bee said hesitantly.

  "Now, this all gets back to why you should listen to me," Don Bruce said. "I may not be a magician but, as a businessman, one thing I have to know is how to acquire and use power. The problem with young folks like you, with the possible exception of the young gentleman here and the furry guy sitting next to him, is that you wouldn't know power if it bit you on the leg."

  He turned his attention back to Bee.

  "I couldn't help but notice that you seemed to recognize me or my name. Can I ask if I'm right?"

  "Yes, sir," Bee said. "I was in the army with Swatter— Guido—and he often mentioned you with the greatest respect. Just like he mentioned Skeeve."

  "The army, eh?" the Don smiled. "I thought you showed more sense than normally comes out of a book. For the record, I have the highest regard for Guido. I only wish he was here to help me make my next point."

  "Um, if I may, sir. If it will help—"

  Bee closed his eyes in concentration, and suddenly Guido was sitting there in his place.

  "Hey! That's pretty good," Don Bruce said then turned to me. "What is that? Some kind of transfer spell?"

  "It's just a disguise spell," I said. "It's actually still Bee sitting there."

  "Well, it'll do for the moment." He went back to addressing the class.

  "Now, my question to you is this: Look at Guido here, then look at me. Then tell me which of us you would least like to have angry with you."

  It really wasn't much of a choice.

  "Guido," Melvine said. "No offense, sir, but he's a lot bigger."

  The rest of the class nodded their agreement.

  "Uh huh," the Don said. "Guido is not only big, he's one of the best, if not the best, at what he does—which is to say, controlled violence.

  "Thank you—Bee, is it? The point is made."

  There was a shimmering in the air, and Bee was back.

  "Now, you all made the obvious, expected choice. Unfortunately, you're all wrong."

  He smiled at the frowns around him.

  "Guido is big and strong, and I'd never disrespect him," he said. "The truth of the matter, though, is that I have over a hundred like him working for me. All of them specialists in controlled violence. If Guido gets mad at you, you have to deal with Guido. If I get mad at you, you can have the whole pack of 'em down on your neck. Are you starting to see what I mean about power?"

  The class was murmuring back and forth again, but they were also watching Don Bruce with a new level of respect.

  "The key word in what I was saying," the Don continued, "is control. Guido doesn't walk around randomly pounding on people. He knows how much power he has and the repercussions if he misuses it. He's not a bully looking for a chance to show off. He's effective and only uses as much power as is necessary for the situation. Technically, I have more power at my disposal than Guido has. That means I have to be that much more careful about how and when I use it."

  He leaned back and smiled.

  "All of that brings us back to why you're studying under Skeeve. Now, if I understand it right, most of you were recommended to him or heard about his reputation. I'm willing to bet that you were all a little disappointed when you actually met him because he isn't flashier or more impressive. That's because most of you are still young and tend to look at the surface, just like you were more afraid of Guido than of me."

  All of a sudden, he wasn't smiling.

&nbs
p; "Well, I'm not young and impressionable. I've been around for a long time and earned my position against some tough competition in conditions where, if you make a mistake, you don't get a bad grade or expelled from class, you get dead. Based on long, hard experience, I'll tell you here and now that your teacher, Skeeve, is one of the most powerful men I've ever dealt with. What's more, I don't think there's anyone that I admire and respect more."

  He looked at me and gave a slow nod with his head in salute.

  Startled as I was by his declaration, the only thing I could • do was return his nod with equal dignity.

  He turned his attention back to the class.

  "You might want to hear a little of how he built that reputation. Since he's not likely to tell you himself, let me fill you in on few of the highlights.

  "When I first met Skeeve, he was the Court Magical for Possiltum. At that time, he had just backed off the largest, best-led army this dimension had ever seen. What's more, he did it with only a Troll, a Trollop, a Pervect, an Imp, a Gargoyle, a salamander, and an Archer to help him."

  "Gleep was there, too," I said.

  "I stand corrected. And a baby dragon. Even so, that's fairly impressive odds by anybody's books. As I was saying, when I met him, he was standing in for the king, who had taken it on the lam to get out of a marriage. If Skeeve had wanted to, he could have stayed and run the kingdom from then on. Instead, he straightened the mess out and moved to the Bazaar at Deva, where the Chamber of Commerce hired him for their Magician in Residence.

  "On the side, he and a few of his friends challenged the two champion teams on Jahk to the Big Game and beat them out of their own trophy. Then there was the time that his partner, Aahz, was in jail in the dimension Blut—that's the one with vampires and werewolves—and Skeeve had to bust him out and prove his innocence."

  That one got a reaction from the class. I had told them I would be sending them to Blut on a field exercise, but I had deliberately neglected to mention to them how I happened to be familiar with the place.

  "One bit you ladies might find interesting was the time that Aahz resigned from M.YT.H., Inc. and Skeeve here went to Perv all by himself to convince him to come back. I'm still gathering information as to exactly how he pulled that one off and came back intact."

  The three Pervects were eyeing me now with thoughtful expressions. I was glad Don Bruce had either failed to find out or chosen to omit mentioning how that little escapade got me deported from Perv as an undesirable.

  "Now, you might think that all that would be enough to build a reputation for anyone. Well, it might, but in Skeeve's case, it's only the tip of the iceberg. Where his real reputation comes from is that he's a true gentleman.

  "I said at the beginning that I was telling you all this because he won't. That ain't his style. He don't brag or bluster or swagger. What's more, he don't throw his weight around unless it's absolutely necessary. He don't have to. His track record speaks for itself. More important, Skeeve genuinely likes people. He's polite and respectful to everybody including his enemies, whether they're strong enough to hurt him or not. If you don't believe me, ask around.

  "You've all met Massha? Well, when they first met, they were opposite sides of a caper—specifically, that Big Game on Jahk I was telling you about. Afterward, not only did he accept her as an apprentice, he set her up to replace him as the Court Magician at Possiltum. And my niece, Bunny. She had it in her head that she wanted to be a mob Moll, so I sent her to Skeeve as a bit of a test for both of them. As it turns out, he won't let her be a floozie. Instead, she ends up using all the financial training she got at school to straighten out the kingdom's books for Possiltum, and now she's got a rep of her own as a financier and negotiator. As a matter of fact, there's at least one bank in Perv that's been trying to hire her away from Skeeve for years, but she won't budge."

  This was the first I had heard about it. I glanced at Bunny, but she was smiling at the class and nodding.

  "That's the kind of reputation Skeeve has. Everybody respects him. He earns the kind of loyalty from his friends and associates that money can't buy."

  He looked around one more time and rose to his feet.

  "Well, I've been ranting here for a long while, and I'll be on my way. Just one last thing, though. Remember when I said I was more powerful that Guido? Well I'll tell you here and now that your teacher, Skeeve, is more powerful than I am. Of everyone I've met or worked with, he's at the top of my list to turn the Mob over to when I retire. Think about that the next time you want to mouth off about how your professors or friends know more than he does."

  With that, he waved at Bunny and me and left.

  It was a quiet, thoughtful group that drifted off back to their rooms.

  After Don Bruce left, the dirty tricks and practical jokes seemed to tail off for good. The students listened more closely to what I had to say. Not as Melvine had after Markie left, but in a more thoughtful manner. What Don Bruce had said to them may have been profoundly embarrassing to me, but it seemed to touch my six students deeply. I was grateful.

  "Okay, guys," I said, winding up the D-hopper, "this is your final examination. I'm sending you on a field mission, to infiltrate a party of strangers and retrieve an object for me. I want you to go to Limbo, a dimension I've had some experience in. It's a very interesting place. Your object is to visit the Woof Writers." They're a couple of Werewolves I know who live outside the main city. I want you to bring back one of their books. I wouldn't have suggested going there before, because the people in Limbo are very nervous about dimensional travelers. Most of them are vampires."

  Bee clutched his throat. "Vampires! Are you sure we have to, sir?"

  "Don't worry," I chuckled. "They are a LOT more frightened of you than you could be of them. They don't do a lot of magik because there are few force lines in Limbo."

  "Oh, not another underprivileged dimension," Melvine groaned.

  I paid no attention. "Keep your disguises up all the time, and you should have no trouble at all. If you need help, look up Vilhelm. He's the Dispatcher of Nightmares in the city of Blut. I've written out the address. Are you ready?"

  "Yes!"

  "Good. Who's going to be mission commander?"

  Modestly, Jinetta stepped forward. "They've selected me, Skeeve."

  "All right." I handed her the D-hopper. "It's set to take you to Limbo. Move the dial back to here to return. You've got," I peered out the window at the midmorning sun, "eight hours until sunset here. Go!"

  BAMF!

  Suddenly, they were gone. I tried to shove aside my feelings of worry. They weren't greenhorns any longer. Bunny stood behind me with her arms crossed.

  "Are you sure this is a good idea, Skeeve?"

  "I am," I replied. "Well, almost sure. I set the whole thing up with Drachir and Idnew. They've got an encounter group staying with them who pretend to be Klahds and play elaborate live role-play games that echo what they think a Klahd lifestyle is like. They dress up in flowered and striped clothing and paint their faces pink or brown. Drachir thought it would be very funny to have a real Klahd drop into their midst. Bee's second best spell is Datspell, so he should be able to keep up a vampire disguise on unless he wants to drop it. They were also eager to meet Tolk. I think they believe Canidians to be long-lost cousins of Werewolves. Vilhelm will be monitoring the group from the time they appeared in Limbo. It's all as safe as I can make it."

  "How safe is that? Aahz nearly got killed there. So did you!"

  "I am aware of that," I said. "But I know a lot more about the dimension now, and I have a few friends there. It's not as if I am sending them into the unknown, or making them walk a tightrope across burning coals. They have all day to do what ought to take them as little as an hour, maybe two if they fall for one of Drachir or Idnew's rituals. They said they had some really funny ones dreamed up for the Klahths, which is what the wanna-be Klahds call themselves, but Idnew assured me they're harmless. Disgusting, but harmless."
/>   "Things can still go wrong," Bunny warned me.

  I sighed. "I know it, but I can't always be there to hold their hands. Tomorrow they go home, and they'll be on their own from then on. At least tonight we can have a round-table critique session on where they thought they were weak. That will give them something to think about in weeks to come. In the meantime, I can spend the day worrying."

  "I've got a better idea," Bunny said, pointing in the direction of the kitchen. "I've been doing all the chores for six weeks. You can clean up while your students aren't here to see it."

  I grinned ruefully. "I deserved that." I went off to find the broom.

  BAMF!

  At the telltale noise, I dropped my dishcloth and went running into the main room of the inn. Bunny followed me. My students, somewhat disheveled and red-eyed, stood leaning on one another. Melvine was clinging to Freezia's back. Jinetta held onto the D-hopper as if it was her lifeline. They were smiling. That was a good sign. They were singing. That was also a good sign.

  "What do you do with a drunken vampire? What do you do with a drunken vampire? Fill his glass with week-old ketchup, ear-lie in the morning!"

  "Ow, ow, owwww!"

  I raised my eyebrows. I'd heard the song before. The verses contained plenty of salty language, most of which I never thought would pass the lips of the genteely raised graduate students, but here they were belting it out in three part harmony with a Canidian howl for counterpoint.

  "What do you do with a drunken satyr? What do you do with a drunken satyr?" Freezia began then paused.

  "I dunno!" Pologne said, a trifle unsteadily. "What comes after that? I've forgotten the words."

  "Shing it again!" Melvine's voice quavered. He lost his grip and slid off Freezia to the floor.

  "What do you do—hiya, Skeeve! Hiya, Bunny," Jinetta said, grinning at us with every tooth showing.

  "Teach! Howya doin'?" Melvine shouted. He was dressed in a plaid kilt with a flowered shirt the sleeves of which were rolled up to let his hands stick out. He waved his arms to get his balance and sat up. "We're back!" He fell down again. "Uggghh. I don't feel so well."

  "Here's the book!" Bee said, thrusting a blue leather-bound volume into my arms. He wore a pie-eyed expression, not as far gone as Melvine but still well on his way to ethanol poisoning. He had a suspicious-looking mark on his neck. I peered closer. He backed away.