Robert Asprin - M.Y.T.H. Inc In Action

"Then you still figure to try for Hemlock?" the ex-general frowns.

"I think," Chumley announces, standin' up and stretchin', "I think that we're all too tired and have been drinking far too much to make a rational decision. I suggest we all retire for now and pick up this discussion in the morning when our heads are clearer."

"You know, that's the first sensible idea I've heard in the last half hour," Tananda sez, stretchin' a bit herself ... which would be fun to watch if I wasn't still thinkin' about the problem at hand.

"Good thinking, Chumley," Nunzio sez.

"Right."

"Sounds good to me."

With everyone in agreement, the party breaks up and we all start to drift off to our rooms.

"Nunzio," I sez, as soon as the others are out of hearin' range. "Are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

"That we should figure on getting up a little early tomorrow?" he sez.

"... Because if anyone goes for the queen, it's gonna be us," I declare.

"... And if we leave it to the group to decide, someone else might get the job ..." he adds.

"... Whereas if we simply present them with a fait accompli, it'll be too late to argue," I finish. "Right?"

"Right," he answers.

Like I say, though Nunzio and I sometimes have our differences, we work together pretty well when the stakes are high ... which is why we are both smilin' as we wave good night to the others.

"We must hurry ... it's almost over!"

-P. FOGG

As I MENTIONED, Nunzio and me have brought along a few accessories on this assignment which we stored at Big Julie's for fear the army might be less than appreciative if we showed up to enlist already equipped ... especially as our personal gear tends to be of a much better quality than that which the army issues.

Bein' true professionals, we spend considerable time sortin' through our travelin' kits for items which would be of specific use for the job at hand. The knuckle dusters, sawed-off pool cues, lead pipes and such we set aside ,...s they would normally be used for much more subtle ventures, and attemptin' to apply them in a fatal manner would be both time-consumin' and messy. Though it broke our hearts, we also decide to leave behind our lolo crossbows. While they are great in an open confrontation, they are a bit bulky to be considered as concealable weapons which counts against them as whatever we use will have to be carried in under the noses of the queen's guards. While these deletions shorten our equipment list somewhat, we are still left with a fair assortment of tools from which to make our final selection.

Nunzio finally settles on a pocket, pistol-grip crossbow and a length of piano wire ... just in case ... while I opt for a blowgun and a nice set of throwin' knives. For those of youse who may be surprised by the latter choice, I would note that while I might not be as good as Snake is, I am still no slouch when it comes to shivs. Unfortunately I cannot provide youse with references to this fact, as those who would be in a position to testify on the degree of my skill from firsthand experience are, un fortuitously, no longer with us ... but I digress.

"You know, Guido," Nunzio sez, startin' to stash his gear in the spiffy civilian clothes we're now wearin' again, "there is one problem with us taking this contract on ourselves."

"What's that?"

"Well, if we get caught afterwards, which as Big Julie points out is a definite possibility if not a probability, then we are again faced with a situation where it looks like the Mob is interfering with the kingdom of Possiltum."

"Come on, Nunzio," I sez. "We have been workin' for the Mob for a number of years now, and in all that the time the authorities have not even come close to provin' there is any direct connection between ourselves and that august organization."

"I wasn't thinking about the authorities," my cousin sez, grim-like. "I was thinking about Don Ho and the other Mob bosses to which Don Bruce referred."

"Oh ... Yeah."

I had not considered this, but it is definitely a point worth reflectin' upon. However, I am still unwillin' to let one of the others on the M.Y.T.H. Inc. team take the fall instead of us.

"Tell you what," I sez. "Chances are, only one of us will do the actual whackin' ... right?"

"Well, yeah. So?"

"So if it looks like he's gonna get caught, then the other one whacks him. Then the survivor can say that the one what whacked the queen was a renegade, and was eliminated for violatin' the Boss's orders."

"Sounds good to me," Nunzio sez. "Let's get going."

If, perhaps, our attitude toward dyin', not to mention the possibility of maybe whackin' each other, sounds a little callous, I would suggest youse consider anew what it is Nunzio and me do for a livin'. We is bodyguards ... which means that along with our jobs, we accept the possibility that at some point one or both of us might have to die so that the person what we are protectin' does not. I repeat, it is part of the job ... and we'd be pretty dumb bunnies if that part of the job description came as a surprise to us after all this time.

As to the possibility of one of us havin' to whack the other ... well, I don't relish the thought of droppin' Nunzio any more than I like the idea of him droppin' me. Still, once one has accepted the above referenced possibility of dyin' on the job to protect the Boss's body or reputation, then it requires little additional justification to accept that dead is dead and afterwards it doesn't really matter exactly who it was what did the number on youse. If anythin', if Nunzio did me or vice versa, then at least we would be assured of it bein' a neat, professional job with a minimum of fuss and bother.

Anyhow, it is just after dawn as we sneak out of the villa, openin' the door an inch at a time in case it squeaks, then easin' onto the patio as soon as it's open far enough for us to slip through. At this point seein' as how it seems we have effected our exit without arousin' the others on the team, I pause to give Nunzio a wink and a thumbs up sign.

"Morning, boys!" comes a familiar voice from the far side of the patio. "Care for a bit of breakfast?"

Big Julie is sprawled on a recliner, soakin' up the morning sun as he picks at the food laid out on the table next to him.

"Shhh! Could you keep it down?" Nunzio hisses, puttin' a finger to his lips as he hurries over to our host.

"What for?" Big Julie sez, still speakin' in that loud, projectin' voice of his.

"Well ... ummm ..." I sez, shootin' a glance at Nunzio who just shrugs. "To tell you the truth, Big Julie, we are takin' it on ourselves to bring yesterday's argument to a close by goin' after the queen before there is any further discussion. This effort will, of course, go to waste if the others hear you and emerge before we have made our departure."

"Oh ... it's too late to worry about that," he sez, casual-like.

"Excuse me?"

"They've already gone ... one at a time, of course."

"They did? When?"

"Well, let's see ... Tananda was the first . , . she left last night ... then Chumley took off when he woke up and realized she was gone. Massha ... well, she lit out about an hour ago when she found out the others had gone ... you know, that woman moves pretty fast considering the weight she's carrying."

"So they're all ahead of us," Nunzio sez, disgusted-like. "And here we thought we were being clever getting an early start."

"Well, there is one detail I notice your teammates neglected to mention yesterday," Big Julie sez. "You see, today is the day the queen holds her public court and hears cases and complaints from anybody ... first come first served. That makes it perfect for the kind of questionable deed you were discussing ... but the lines form early, both for those seeking an audience and those who simply want to be in the audience."