Class Dis-Mythed

By now, Chumley's head was hanging in shame.

"Then, we levitated him over—" Melvine began. I held up a hand to halt his narrative.

"I understand," I laughed. "We don't have to relive every one of the splashes." Melvine looked disappointed. I turned to Chumley. "Big Crunch, I think your seminar has been a huge success."

"More than huge," Chumley mumbled. "They did good job."

"Top marks," I said. "Everybody, take the evening off. You've earned it."

Tolk dashed to the door then back to Bee. "I'm taking a walk! Come with me!"

The young soldier scrambled up from his bench. "Why not? Permission to go walkies, sir?" ? "Granted," I said. "Have fun."

"How about you?" Tolk asked the Pervects.

"That's very nice of you," Pologne said, "but I'm just dying to have a hot bath."

"Okay okay okay! Tomorrow?"

"Maybe. Thanks."

Freezia approached Pologne almost shyly. "I noticed your manicure got snagged while you were stringing up those nets. I'm going to do my nails. Would you like to use my buffer?"

"Oh, yes!" Pologne exclaimed, clearly grateful for the detente.

"Then we can try on each other's clothes," Jinetta said. "I think you'd look lovely in my new twinset, Freezia. I know it'll be a little long on you, but that's the style this season, you know."

"That is so nice of you, Jinetta!" Freezia beamed. "I love that sweater set." They bustled toward the stairs. The exchange didn't have the warm friendliness that they had arrived with some weeks before, but it was less tinged with fear and distrust than some of their earlier exchanges.

"I thought they'd never leave," Melvine said. He stumped out of the room.

Chumley let out a low whistle. "That's a formidable lot you have there, old scout. Particularly when they do put their minds to it to work together."

"Yes, it is," I said. "It's a shame they'll never see each other again when they leave."

"The girls will," Bu

I shook my head. "I may suggest they join forces, but they have to go their own ways. It's a shame, if you ask me. They could put their mark on the world."

Chumley eyed me with amusement. "Someone to assume the mantle of M.Y.T.H., Inc., perhaps?"

I gri

Late that evening, I went to look out at the stars. I had been enjoying the company, but the wide open night sky reminded me I occasionally craved solitude. Sometimes I liked it when it was just me and the universe.

A hard-scaled head came and thrust itself underneath my palm. I gri

Gleep's head twisted around, and he let out a low growl in his throat. A moment later I heard scratchy footsteps.

"Uh, Skeeve, can I talk to you?"

I relaxed. "Sure, Bee. What is it?"

"Well, sir," the figure moved closer. Bee's homely face, blue in the faint starlight, looked concerned. "I notice you've been watching me pretty closely, and I think you must be disappointed. I wonder if you think I ought to stay or not. I don't think I'm living up to your expectations."

"I don't have any expectations," I said, surprised. Then I stopped. That wasn't quite true. "Yes, I have been watching you."

"Permission to ask why, sir?"

I decided to lay my cards on the table. "Massha's ring. I have been thinking you blew it up."

"Why, sir? You said that the perpetrator apologized to you, and that the matter was settled."

"Not exactly," I said. "All five of the other students came forward and said they had set it off. You were the only one who didn't."

"But I didn't blow up the ring, sir," Bee said, sounding puzzled. "Why would I confess if I didn't do it?"

I was taken aback. Why indeed? Why had the others been so quick to assume responsibility? I had to think about that. I believed Bee's protestation of i

"You're right," I said. "I wouldn't expect you to take the blame for something you didn't do. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression I suspected you. No, you're doing fine. I don't want you to leave, unless you're unhappy."

"Oh, no, sir," Bee said. "This is the best thing that ever happened to me since I was born, except for meeting Sergeant Swatter and Nunzio."

"Everything's okay," I assured him. "You're doing fine. I'm proud of the progress you're making."

Bee stood up straighter, if such a thing was possible. "Thank you, sir!"

He spun on his heel and marched back into the i

I stayed out for a while longer with Gleep and the stars.

Chapter Eighteen

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You're pi

"Do I have my purse?" Pologne asked.

Markie dropped out of her threatening pose, which, when a being stands less than three feet tall and has a head full of soft golden curls, was not threatening in any traditional sense.

"If you normally carry your purse everywhere, then, yes, you have your purse."

"Good," Pologne said. She reached into the capacious handbag, whipped out a shiny silver four-foot-long gun and leveled it. I pulled Bu

"Never, and I mean never, point that at anyone you don't plan to shoot. And never whip out a weapon like that unless you are pla

"Oh, but I would," Pologne said. But she sounded doubtful. She caressed the barrel. Studded with blue gemstones, it looked like it was made of solid platinum. Since I never carry anything larger than a pocket knife, I had no idea what the bulges and protrusions meant. I guessed that neither did Pologne.

Markie seemed to have the same impression. She planted her tiny hands on her hips. "Have you ever shot that thing?"

Pologne looked horrified.

"No, it would mess up the finish. Isn't it pretty? Daddy gave it to me as a graduation present."

Markie sighed. "Then leave it at home. Hasn't Skeeve ever told you that hesitation just hands a weapon to your enemy?"

"Well, he has, but we don't have any enemies!"

Markie raised an eyebrow. "The universe is full of danger, sweet pea. What happens when you move into your first sixth-floor walkup, and a drunken jerk who lives on four staggers over to you in the laundry room?"

"Why, I would never be in any place like that!"

"All right," Markie said. "That's good."

"That is?"

"Yes. You wouldn't be in a situation like that because you have pla

"No," Pologne said. "I mean, I wouldn't live in a sixth-floor walkup because no elevator means it's a dump. Right?"

Markie groaned. "Think of it in more general terms. You can apply those rules to any situation. You already know what you think of as an acceptable scenario. Let's dissect the state of mind which led you not to be in that apartment in the first place. You want a place to live. You assess where you need to be, what geographical points you need to be near. Add in your personal level of risk, balance that against your cash in hand, tolerance of noise and other nuisances, and so on. That will kick out a list of things you can avoid while still leaving the field open for the greatest number of viable choices, including some you might not have considered at the outset. When you leave out the undesirable factors, only your personal prejudices and preconceived notions would prevent you from seeing all the possibilities."