Myth Alliances

"That's them, officer!" Bofus explained, appearing beside him. "They're the ones who sold me those glasses! I swear I had no idea that they meant for me to betray my own people."

The cop turned to her. "Is this true?"

"Of course not!" Paldine protested. "It's all a misunderstanding!" The officer's face was imperturbable. "We'd like you to come down to our headquarters for questioning." Glancing over his shoulder, Vergetta realized that he was accompanied by about a hundred other officers, probably the force sent to deal with the riot.

"So sorry, bubchen," she apologized, patting him on the cheek. "Can't do it. Join hands!" The Pervect Ten minus Two tried to unite.

"They're trying to get away!" the crowd howled, and mobbed them, knocking their hands away from one another's. There were other ways to dimension-hop. As dozens of pairs of hands reached for her, Vergetta started chanting one of the old, more power-intensive charms.

"All right, all right, all right," the officer shouted, pushing into the midst of the crowd. 'They're not going anywhere!"

And they weren't. Vergetta chanted again. And again. No matter how she phrased the syllables, or delved for power from the lines running all over the town, her spell didn't work. Her surprise was echoed seven times on her companions' faces. Scammies must be operating dispellers strong enough to dampen even a Pervect's talent. Who in the nine levels of Marshall Field's State Street had sold them those?

Their momentary shock was long enough for two officers apiece to take them by the arms. The touch brought the senior Pervect to her senses. She threw the first police officer high over her head into the crowd. The second two retired from the fray clutching sensitive parts of their anatomy that had been viciously kicked. But gradually, enough police joined their brethren in bearing the eight Pervects to the ground.

"This is no way to treat ladies," Vergetta grunted, as thick irons were fastened around her wrists.

"You are under arrest for corruption of public morals, operating unsafe devices within the city limits and," the of- ficer added, wincing, "assaulting officers of the law." He gestured to his army. "Take them away!"

"But, bubby," Vergetta explained, holding out her manacled hands to the black-robed judge, "this is all a big misunderstanding. Look at me. I'm just an old lady. I wouldn't hurt a fly."

A sharp inhalation of breath came from behind her, probably from one of the officers she had kicked on the way in. He was lucky she only wanted to disarm him and get away. It did cramp a lady's style when she intended to be merciful. The other Pervects sat behind her on a hard wooden bench. Not so comfortable on one's old nether parts. She was more comfortable standing.

"We have had two riots in two days," the magistrate intoned, leaning over his tented hands toward her and the others. "In both cases demons were involved. We have had numerous situations in the past where outworlders have caused a lot of trouble. Now, I am trying-to be lenient, but the evidence against you and your ... companions is overwhelming."

"What evidence?" Vergetta said, bluntly. "We sell toys. That's all we're here to do: make people happy. Have you tried our product? It's fabulous. You would enjoy it so much. It would take your mind off your so very responsible job, and I can tell an important man like you could use a break once in a while, if you get my drift." She gestured toward him and the chains jingled. "You think maybe you could take these off, sweetie? They're a little tight."

The judge paid no attention. "Your account does not agree with what our other witness said, madam. He claims that your toy has more sinister motivations."

"Motivations, shmotivations! I heard what the crowd said, but it's not true! We're just businesswomen." Vergetta tried a friendly smile, but the sight of her teeth made the judge's bronzy-green face pale to polished brass. "Look at it from my point of view. Here I am with all my friends, coming in to see how well our new venture with our good friends on Scamaroni is going, and the next thing I know, I'm arrested! Now, how do you think that makes me feel?"

"At present, it makes me think that you're going to be here for a long while, madam," the judge replied. "According to our witness ..."

"Yes, your so-called prophet!" Paldine exclaimed. "We want to see him!"

"I know Scammie law," Loorna snapped. "We have the right to be confronted by our accusers. Trot him out. We want to hear from him why he thinks we're ..."

"Brainwashers," the officer supplied.

"Right. Thanks ... Brainwashers."

The judge nodded, his color restored. "A reasonable request. It so happens that he is also enjoying our hospitality. We'll be happy to let you see him." He turned to the bailiff. "Go get the other prisoner."