Myth Alliances

Senior Domari picked up his stack of papers and began to straighten them again. Vergetta knew she shouldn't harass him any more. The poor boy was at the end of his patience, but so was she. She had too many questions, and no one knew the answers. Who were the two Pervects that had been spotted ru

The most puzzling thing was how a Klahd had gotten a hold of a pair of their goggles. It had turned up in the cell that had been vacated by the only real jailbreak. Moms-hone assured her that no units had ever gone to Deva or Klah. Paldine had been convinced at first that someone had created a knockoff and was pla

"I must ask you again, er, ladies, which two of you led the patrol on a merry chase all over town early this morning, and then broke into the jail again. And why?"

None of them knew the answer to that question, but the Ten would be damned if they would let an outsider know they didn't know.

"Just a demonstration, your honor," Vergetta offered, a broad grin breaking out over her face.

"A demonstration?" Domari echoed.

"Of course! We're demons, right? So… never mind," she averted the subject hastily, when the judge showed no signs of getting the joke.

The others glanced at her, but she gave them a hasty wave as if to say, Leave the talking to me, girls. We can use this.

"Look, your little prison might hold Scammies, and it ought to hold scammers, if you understand what I'm saying, but I'd like to point out that you couldn't keep a Klahd wizard behind bars for even one night, and believe me when I tell you darlink, that after another night or so those walls aren't going to hold us any longer. And look at the evidence: we can come and go as we please. So why don't you just let us leave? I promise you from the bottom of my heart, that when we go you will never see any of us again. Ever."

The judge looked genuinely tempted. Vergetta could tell that she was begi

Domari cleared his throat. "It's… just not that simple, madam. There's the matter of the psychological harm that you may have caused to the population. When you have an expert of the magnitude of Zol Icty himself condemning your device, it becomes quite a serious situation. So many of our fine people have required virtual deprogramming to return to their normal lives…"

"Psychobabble!" Oshleen protested.

"Psycho-what?"

The slender Pervect rose to her feet, giving a raised eyebrow to Vergetta. The elder female handed off the talking stick without protest. Oshleen had obviously come up with a good wrinkle on her own.

"It's nonsense. It's clear that he has no faith at all in your citizenry. In their mental resilience. I mean, look at the wonderful device—you admitted that you tried it and enjoyed it yourself. How could we, as honest merchants, have believed you could not tell the difference between fantasy and reality? You're smarter than that," she added, in her most persuasive voice. Oshleen undulated forward, as far as her chains would let her. "He's the one you ought to arrest."

"I… I can't do that." But Oshleen had gotten him so confused that he didn't know what to think. "What surety will you give to remain away from Scamaroni forever? Besides refunding the money to our honest citizens for the goggles."

"Refunding the money…?" All of them gasped at once.

The judge looked at them impassively. "Unless you wish to remain in our slowly deteriorating jail for the duration of your potential sentences. And after the last few days, I am inclined to hand out maximum sentences. I will allow you to confer."

He smacked his gavel on the desk, and retired from the courtroom.

The Pervects put their heads together. "We can't do that," Loorna hissed to the others. "It'll eat up all of our remaining resources."

"Which would you rather have, our resources or our lib- erty?" Charilor countered, then stopped herself with a grimace. "What am I saying? Never mind… but we weren't the ones who were ru

"We can recoup our losses in some other dimension," Monishone argued. "We'll take the intact pairs elsewhere."

"There aren't that many intact pairs," Paldine retorted. "There's no chance of getting our investment out, not when Zol Icty himself has condemned the goggles. The word will spread faster than a dance craze. We're stuck. There are very few dimensions where a toy like that will pass the marketing research test."

Vergetta set her face grimly. "We have no choice. Someone has left us with only one option, and if I ever get my hands on that someone, I have a use for all those broken sets of goggles, bubbies, and I don't mean making a mosaic."

Paldine sighed. "I'll handle the negotiations."

It took longer than a day for Zol to finish his encounter session. Bu

He managed to prove to me that you can sell a million books by convincing people that there was something wrong with them, and that they can only solve the problem by reading the book. When Zol spoke in that calming ma

On the other hand, he was genuinely good at picking up the traits that a race largely shared. He told the Scammies that they were too gullible for their own good, falling for the most convincing story or the newest toy. But then he sold them copies of his latest book.

What bothered me was that he didn't see anything remotely hypocritical about that. I honestly think he did believe in his own advice, and a practical way always to have it on hand was to own the book. I wondered what he would say was wrong with Kobolds.

The final book was at long last signed. We were left in a meadow of trampled grass. Zol drained his teacup and set it daintily on the saucer.

"Thank you," he told the proprietor of the cafe. "It was good of you to lend us your establishment for such an extended session. I hope we didn't inconvenience you too greatly."

The restaurateur, looking exhausted but still dazzled, pumped his hand. "It's been an honor, sir. An honor! Zol Icty, in my cafe!"

He shook hands with all of us. I noticed that his staff of three were sprawled in chairs against the wall. No pastries or sandwiches remained under the glass domes, and the huge containers of the local lemonade, tea, coffee and milkshakes had long ago been emptied. They hadn't lost a thing by having a famous author descend upon them for an impromptu shrink-fest.