Myth Alliances

FOUR

"Run those figures again for me, Caitlin, darling," asked the elderly Pervect in the flowered dress. She tapped the side of the console with her cane.

"Don't do that, Vergetta," snapped the very young female at the keyboard. She turned deepset amber eyes at her senior. "It upsets the gremlins in the motherboard."

"Well, they need waking up, if those are the answers you're giving to me," Vergetta remarked peevishly. "They shouldn't talk this way to anyone's mother. This is a wrong answer. It has to be."

"I think she's right," declared Oshleen, a tall, willowy Pervect, sashaying into the room with a slighter, shorter compatriot in her wake. She waited for the skirts of her floor-length silk gown to settle around her manicured feet. "I've done the calculations myself, and Tenobia has checked the store rooms. About ten percent of the treasury is gone." "Again?" Vergetta roared. She slammed a hand down on the console, earning a glare from Caitlin. "What is it with these Wuhses?"

"I told you you ought to let me confiscate that D-hopper," sneered the narrow-eyed Pervect in black, who was filing her claws to razor points in the corner of the room.

Vergetta turned to her patiently. "It's a toy, Loorna. It gives them pleasure."

Loorna sprang up, her long yellow fangs bared. "Every time they use that toy they end up spending money! Money they don't have! Money we don't have. They're such idiots."

"They're Wuhses, what do you expect? They're going to pull business acumen out of the ground?"

"If they'd dig up some self-control, then I'd set every one of them up with shovels and tell them to get to it. As it is, if you yell at one of them, he folds up and points at everybody but himself."

"If I could get my hands on the Deveel who sold them that D-hopper I'd park it under his pointed tail," Tenobia growled. "I've tried to get them to put it back in the treasury and sign it out when they want to use it, but no. They don't want to let us hold it for them. We might not give it back, and that's 'uncooperative and unfriendly'. So it gets passed secretly from hand to hand, never in the same place for five minutes. If we don't control it, we can't tell them where they can and can't go. And they do: they flit off to any dimension that takes their fancy. And every time they go off they come back with a souvenir. Every single time. So suddenly everyone has to have one of the new gizmos, and we have a flood of imports. Then, because this stuff isn't free, they raid the treasury to pay for it. No one ever asks—they're not assertive enough for that. So they sneak it out. Every single one of them feels entitled to spend some of the money. No one has ever had the backbone to take all of it, but they might as well. The trouble is that they don't check, in case someone says no. Like us."

"We made a mistake telling them we were close to solving their problem," Oshleen sighed, polishing her nails on her sleeve. 'They think the money shortage is over."

"It's not over!" Caitlin snapped. "I keep a spreadsheet going of input and output."

"I know that," Oshleen retorted. "I recalculate the balances every day, too, you know."

"On paper!"

"And if your gremlins stop working, what record do you have? Nothing!"

"Girls, girls," Vergetta chided them. "Enough!"

"It's natural to be interested in new things," Nedira interjected, soothingly. "They're curious. They like toys."

"It's not the toys that are the problem," Tenobia insisted. "It's paying for them. They don't sell their used toys when the novelty's worn off. They just accumulate them, and think that the money's going to fall out off a tree."

Paldine drummed her fingertips on her lip. "If we could only head off the trend before it catches on kingdomwide, we could control the flow and make a percentage on the value. Not to mention making sure they're not being cheated. As it is, they always pay too much, then they can't admit it. Sooner or later one of them sneaks in with the janitors and abstracts the coins when we're not looking. I told you we should have put a wyvern in the treasury."

"So they're not so good at personal responsibility either," Vergetta shrugged. "That's why they hired us."

"They need keepers, not financial managers," Loorna countered. "Shepherds, that's what, and maybe a bunch of border collies. Yes, that's it. Put them all in pens until we're finished straightening them out."

"If they would just have let us do our job," Oshleen drawled, bored with the never-ending arguments, "we could have been out of here six months ago. They're mak- ing it impossible. Paldine should never have agreed to a milestone-based contract, especially one that prevents us from taking any other consulting contracts in the meantime. It should have been strictly time-based."

Paldine, pristine and elegant in a two-piece skirt suit and flowered scarf pinned at the shoulder, jumped up from the couch and grabbed Oshleen by the neck of her silk gown. "If you say that one more time I'll rip your head off! Where were you when I was negotiating it? Sashaying around looking for more clothes? Strutting around on a runway?"

"I was humiliating myself for this group! We needed that device! We could have used the Bub Tube for mass hypnosis, and maybe broken the habit they've gotten into. That Deveel created a nation of shopaholics!" Oshleen said with a dangerous scowl.

"And you couldn't get it. You failed in the one assignment that should have been a walkover."

"Ladies, ladies," Nedira interrupted, pushing in between them. Her plump body made an effective buffer as the two taller Pervects glared at one another over her shoulders. Charilor came up quietly behind Paldine and detached her hand from Oshleen's throat with a sharp tug. Paldine glared and massaged her wrist. "Why are we fighting? What's done is done. What we need to do now is find a solution."

Oshleen rubbed her throat. "Every single time we get these fools out of debt, one of their precious committees spends the new profits, without letting us deduct expenses, or taking into account what any of the other committees are doing with the proceeds. They're spending it faster than we can earn it. We can't even request payment because of your contract. We have to get them on their feet and keep them there for a period of sixty days. That's what we agreed to! We can't even get paid. Our work would be undone completely if we request our fee—that would clear out the rest of what's left in the treasury. And if we leave without fixing the leak, we'll be blamed for it. Our reputation will be ruined throughout the dimensions."

"She's right," agreed Tenobia. "We've got to hang in here until we get them up and running, and make it stick."

Paldine groaned and clutched her head. "Oh, I just want to leave here and never come back!"

"What if we set up one big score that would net all the money the budget would need for the sixty days, including our fee," Caitlin suggested, a wicked look in her eyes, "but that the Wuhses would be responsible for? Then we could leave. The kingdom would be in excellent shape, financially if not socially."

"And what would happen when the creditors descended?" Nedira chided the little Pervect. "It would take them less than a week to use up two months' worth of money. Where can we increase revenue legitimately?"

"Well, there's no more money to be made out of Pareleyan exports," Paldine stated, firmly. "I'm already straining the markets for handweaving. Their books of poetry went over like a dead horse. We were doing pretty well in the factories that assemble housewares. If only Vergetta and Charilor," she glared at the stocky young female, who went to lean against the wall with her arms folded, "hadn't blown their caper on Deva we'd have had a virtually infinite customer base."

"And that was our idea?" Vergetta snarled. "Forget it. If I ever get my hands on that Trollop, I'll paint her wagon, just before I fix it for good."

"We did," Charilor smirked. "We smacked her and her two henchmen around fairly thoroughly. We paid in advance, if you look at it one way."

"Well, I don't!"

"Please!" Nedira shouted over the others' voices.

"I believe," Monishone spoke up for the first time from her work station close to the window, "I may have the solution."

The others turned to her. Of the group she was easily the best magician, though Vergetta believed she hated all technology, unnatural for a Pervect. "So what you got, baby?"

The slender, delicately built female came forward. Her blue silk robes clashed horribly with her green scales, but it was the traditional color for ceremonial magik. She pulled back her wide sleeve so the others could see the small device balanced on her palm. "This."

"Glasses?" Niki asked. "So you're leaving the Luddite contingent at last?" Where Monishone was the technophobe, Niki was the technophile. If something broke down Vergetta didn't bother to try and fix it herself; she always called Niki.

"Don't be stupid," Monishone stared at her haughtily. "They're storytelling goggles."

"Come again?" Niki demanded. "What's the difference between those and virtual-reality headsets?"

"Because they're magikal, wirehead," the smaller Pervect spat. "They work, unlike the crap you play with."

"All right, all right, no more fighting," Vergetta soothed them. "We just fixed the wall again last week." She swooped down and snatched the spectacles out of Monishone's hand. "How do they work?"

"Just put them on."

The elder female hooked the ear-pieces over her large ears and settled the frame on the bridge of her nose. "So what am I supposed to see?"

"Do you see the little books in the corner? Pick one and flick a tiny bit of power at it."

"And…?" Vergetta pressed. Monishone waited, a little smile on her lips. "Aaaaagggghhh!"

Niki leaped forward, and plucked the spectacles off Vergetta's face. "What's wrong?"

The elder Pervect grabbed them back. "Give me those! It's wonderful!" She put them back on.

"What's wonderful?" Tenobia asked, taking them away and propping them on her own nose. "Wha—wow!"

"Let me see," Oshleen insisted, hooking the eyeglasses with one long claw. She stiff-armed the shorter female with one arm while she put them on. "Fantastic! I could almost pluck those jewels off the walls!"

"Inconsiderate bitches," Charilor snarled, twisting Oshleen's arm up behind her back. With her free hand she felt around the other's face until she got the spectacles.

"Ow! You hit me in the nose!"

"Let me see!" Nedira demanded, pushing the others out of the way until she reached Charilor.

"Enough!" Vergetta bellowed. The stone room shook until the hanging lamps danced. Eight of the Ten stopped squabbling and turned to look at her. Monishone stood with her arms crossed, wearing a smug expression. "Give me those! Now!" She put out an imperious hand to Charilor. Very reluctantly, Charilor peeled the goggles off and put them on Vergetta's palm. "You all sit down, and you wait until I am finished with these, and then everyone may have a turn! Just because I'm the oldest doesn't mean I can't kick your behinds from here to tomorrow!"

Shamefacedly the rest of the Ten settled down into their favorite seats to watch her. The only sound was that of Caitlin's fingers clicking on the keys of her computer. Vergetta nodded and resumed the goggles.

Inside the glasses it was dark except for the tiny glowing bookshelf in the upper left edge of her field of view. It didn't take a master magician to manipulate the individual books. The merest touch of power caused each one in turn to open and display its title page to her. A pink one was entitled The Rose in the Tower, a blue one Dragonfest, and a black tome It Came From Klahd… "Horror, too?"

"Anything you like," Monishone confirmed.

Dragonfest looked good. Vergetta went back to it and opened it again. With the merest touch of magik she turned the first page.

Suddenly she was not seeing the tiny book, but a landscape that surrounded her completely. In the distance were three active volcanoes spewing smoke into the gray sky. Her feet shifted on the uneven ground. She looked down, and realized she was standing on a mountain of gold coins and jewels. She started to bend to pick up a handful of treasure.

"Hiyyaaaa!" a voice screamed behind her. The jewels scattered. She turned around to see a little being clad in shining silver armor waving a sword at her. He stood no higher than her knee. He plunged forward, waving the brand. It flashed down and hit her in the knee.

"Ow!" she roared. A jet of flame shot out of her mouth, narrowly missing the knight. "Hey! I'm the dragon! This is great!" She stopped to examine her hands. They were long, slender blue paws with gleaming red nails. "This clashes, baby."

Abruptly, a narrow band of rainbow light appeared next to her right hand. "That one," she decided, pointing at a stripe of burnt orange. "Always go for the complementary color." Before she'd finished speaking the nails had turned orange. "Very nice. Now, for you, you little pesgunyik!"

But the knight didn't wait around for her to revarnish her fingernails. He hauled his tin behind down the hill as fast as his fingerlong legs would carry him. It took no trouble at all, even walking dragon fashion on all fours, to catch up with him. Vergetta grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, rolled back on her long, scaly tail, and started slapping his face from one side to the other. "You don't pick on a lady like that! Didn't your mama tell you anything? Behave yourself!"

She had the knight blubbering like a baby in no time. When he had apologized no fewer than fifty times she let him drop to the ground. He picked himself up and started running. With a puff of breath she gave him a hot seat to remember her by. He vanished over the crest of the hill. She bent down at last to count the treasure in the hill.

When she took off the goggles her eyes were wet with tears. "That vas beautiful, darling," she told Monishone. "Brilliant! You're a genius! It's a Pervect fantasy."

All eight of the others pushed forward, grabbing for the glasses. "Me next!" "No, me!" "Me!"

"Everyone gets a turn, in order of age. Caitlin?"

The little girl jumped down from her chair and ran up to Vergetta, her hands up. The older female held the spectacles just out of reach. She pointed an admonitory forefinger.

"What do you say?"

"Gimme, you old trout!"

Vergetta beamed and patted the child on the head. "Isn't she darling?"

The rest of the group watched Caitlin's face as it twisted and contorted. Her mouth occasionally gaped open to reveal gaps where a few baby teeth had fallen out and the adult fangs had not yet grown in. Of the Ten the next in age had almost twenty years on Caitlin, but they couldn't do without her. Something about computer technology only yielded its innermost secrets to the very young. She had a gift for data analysis that rivaled Oshleen's less-technical approach. The wisdom to make use of it would come with time. In the meanwhile, her total lack of fear let her wholeheartedly enjoy every experience. Under the goggles' spell she yowled and grunted and crowed, then let out a loud shout.

"Awesome!"

She whipped off the glasses with a look of triumph, and handed them to Charilor.

One by one the Pervect Ten took their turns wearing the Storyteller Goggles. Vergetta watched their faces. Every one of them that had tried them had a gleeful look on her face. When at last Nedira took them off and handed them back to Monishone, they were all wearing the same expression.

"Well, ladies?" Vergetta asked.

"It's amazing," affirmed Tenobia. "It'd be a gold mine," insisted Paldine. "How many of them can I get, and how quickly?"

"How much do they cost to produce?" Oshleen wanted to know.

"I want to try them again!" announced Charilor.

"No!" Vergetta chided. "Not now! All right. All in favor of producing and distributing Monishone's invention, say 'aye.'"

"Aye!" The call was unanimous.

"Any opposed?"

Silence. Vergetta swept her eyes across nine eager green faces. She clapped her hands together. "All right, then! Chop, chop! I want a business plan laid out by ten o'clock tomorrow morning. This is our big chance to blow this meshugina burg and go home!"

The Pervect Ten burst into loud applause and cheers.

Outside, the Wuhses of the democratic kingdom of Pareley shivered and held one another. The terrifying females in the castle were asserting themselves again. And did they have to do it so loudly?