Robert Asprin - Mything Persons

"This one's all yours, dear," Drahcir said firmly, his

posture erect and unmoved despite the sudden activity.

"Come on, honey," his wife pleaded. "You're so

much better at explaining things. You're supposed to

help me out when it comes to talking to people."

"It's a skill I polished at those personal appearances

you're so critical of," he retorted stiffly.

"Would somebody tell me what's going on?" I said

86 Robert Asprin MYTH-ING PERSONS 87

in tones much louder than I usually use when I'm a

guest in someone's home.

Before I could get an answer, the door burst open

again utterly destroying what little was left of my nerv-

ous system.

"Hey, Boss! Did you s—se—Wha—wa...."

"Outside, Guido!" I ordered, glad to have someone I

could shout at without feeling guilty. "Blow your nose

... and I'm fine, thanks! Nice of you to ask!"

By the time my bodyguard had staggered back out-

side, his face half buried in a handkerchief, I had man-

aged to regain most of my composure.

"Sorry for the interruption," I said as nonchalantly

as I could, "but my colleague does raise an interesting !

question .What was that?''

"Scary?" Massha suggested.

Apparently she had recovered her composure a little

better than I had. I closed my eyes and reflected again

on the relative value of cheeky apprentices.

"That," Drahcir said loftily, barely in time to keep

me from my assistant's throat, "was Vic... one of my

wife's weird artist friends who dropped in unannounced

for a prolonged stay and, unless I miss my guess, the

criminal you're looking for who framed your partner."

"He wasn't really a friend of mine," Idnew put in in

a small voice. "Just a friend of a friend, really. Weird

artist types tend to stick together and pass around the

locations of crash spaces. He was just another charity

case down on his luck who...."

"... who is currently winging his way back to his ac-

complice with the news that we're on their trail," I

finished with a grimace.

"Isn't that 'accomplices' as in plural?" Massha asked

softly.

I ignored her.

"Oh, Drahcir," Idnew said, "now we have to help

them. It's the only way we can make up for having pro-

vided a hideout for the very person they were trying to

find."

"If I might point out," her husband replied, "we've

barely met these people. We don't really owe them an

explanation, much less any help. Besides, you still have

a deadline to meet and...."

"Drahcir!" Idnew interrupted. "It could get real

lonely sleeping in the old kennel while I work day and

night on a deadline, if you catch my meaning."

"Now, dear," Drahcir said, sidling up to his wife,

"before you go getting into a snit, hear me out. I've

been thinking it over and I think there's a way we can

provide assistance without biting into our own sched-

ules. I mean, we do have a friend... one who lives a

little north of here... who's temporarily between as-

signments and could use the work. I'm sure he'd be will-

ing to do a little tracking for them at a fraction of the

fee that we'd charge for the same service."

He was obviously talking in the veiled references part-

ners use to communicate or check ideas in front of

strangers, as his words went completely over my head,

but drew an immediate reaction from Idnew.

"Oh, Drahcir!" she exclaimed excitedly, all trace of

her earlier anger gone. "That's perfect! And he'll just

love Massha."

"There's still the question of whether or not we can

get him here in time," her husband cautioned. "And of

course I'll want a percentage off the top as a finder's

fee...."

"WHAT! "I exclaimed.

"I agree," Idnew said firmly. "A finder's fee is to-

tally. ..."

"No! Before that," I urged. "What did you say

88 Robert Asprin

about there not being enough time? I thought the execu-

tion wasn't scheduled until the end of the week!"

"That's right," Drahcir said. "But the end of the

week is tomorrow. Your friend is slated to be executed

at high midnight."

"C'mon, Massha," I ordered, heading for the door.

"We're heading back to Blut."

"What for?" she demanded. "What can we do with-

out a tracker?"

"We've tried being nice about this, and it isn't work-

ing," I responded grimly. "Now we do it the other way.

You wanted action, apprentice? How do you feel about

giving me a hand with a little jailbreak?"

"What's wrong with a little harmless crime

once in a while?"

—M. BLAISE

"BUT I'm telling you, Boss, jailbreak is a bad rap. With

you operating at only half power in the magic depart-

ment, there's no tellin' what can go wrong, and

then...."

"Before we get all worked up about what can go

wrong, Guido," I said, trying to salvage something con-

structive out of the conversation, "could you give me a

little information on exactly how hard it is to break

someone out of jail? Or haven't you been involved in

any jailbreaks, either?"

"Of course I've been along on some jailbreaks," the

bodyguard declared, drawing himself up proudly. "I've

been an accomplice on three jailbreaks. What kind of

Mob member do you take me for, anyway?"

With a heroic effort I resisted the temptation to an-

swer that particular rhetorical question.

"Okay. So how about a few pointers? This is my first

jailbreak, and I want it to go right."

89

90 Robert Asprin MYTH-ING PERSONS 91

I was all set to settle in for a fairly lengthy lecture, but

instead of launching into the subject, Guido looked a bit

uncomfortable.

"Umm... actually, Boss, I don't think you'd want

to use any of the plans I followed. You see, all three of

'em were busts. None of 'em worked, and in two of the

capers, the guy we were tryin' to save got killed. That's

how I know about what a bad rap a jailbreak is, know

what I mean?"

"Oh, swell! Just swell! Tell me. Mister bodyguard,

with your allergies and zero-for-three record at jail-

break, did you ever do anything for the Mob that

worked?"

A gentle hand fell on my shoulder from behind.

"Hey! Ease up a little. High Roller," Massha said

softly. "I know you're worried about your partner, but

don't take it out on Guido ... or me, either, for that

matter. We may not be much, but we're here and trying

to help as best we can when we'd both just as soon be

bac.k at the Bazaar. You're in a bad enough spot with-

out starting a two-front war by turning on your allies."

I started to snap at her, but caught myself in time.

Instead, I drew a long ragged breath and blew it out

slowly. She was right. My nerves were stretched to the

breaking point....hich served me right for not follow-

ing my own advice.

We were currently holed up at the Dispatcher's, the

only place I could think of for an in-town base of

operations, and as soon as we had arrived, I had insisted

that both Massha and Guido grab a bit of sleep. We had

been going nonstop ever since stepping through the door

into Limbo, and I figured that the troops would need all

the rest they could get before we tried to spring Aahz.

Of course, once I had convinced them of the necessity of

racking out, I promptly ignored my own wisdom and

stayed up thinking for the duration.

The rationalization I used for this insane action was

that I wanted some extra time uninterrupted to recharge