Myth Alliances

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 running around town last night! We can't come and go as we please. They just think we can."

"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. Bunny, Tananda and I sat at his feet throughout the process. By the time his audience finally cleared the meadow beside the river I had a new respect for my hired expert.

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 manner of his, he made it sound as though the problem was minor, and they could fix it themselves by following the guidelines that he laid out. He put the most positive possible spin on their struggle, promising them that even if they didn't see quick results that they were still on the right path. No wonder he was famous throughout all the dimensions. There wasn't a thinking being alive who deep down didn't feel fundamentally flawed. Zol tapped into that feeling, but he persuaded them that it was okay.

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!"