Bunny listened attentively. When I was done, she nodded her head.
"... And unofficially?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"You said, ‘Officially, etc., etc.' That implies there are reasons you haven't mentioned."
That's when I realized how tired I was getting. A verbal slip like that could be costly in the wrong company. Still, Bunny was my confidential secretary. If I couldn't confide in her, I was in trouble.
"Unofficially, I'm doing it for Aahz."
"Aahz?"
"That's right. Remember him? My old partner? Well, when we were taking care of that little favor for Quigley, he kept needling me about The Fun House. There was a fairly constant stream of digs about ‘throwing money at a problem' and bow ‘we never planned to run a casino'... stuff like that. I don't know why, but it's clear to me that the casino is a burr under his saddle, and if it will make him happy, I've got no problems dumping it. It just doesn't mean that much to me."
Bunny arched an eyebrow.
"So you're selling off the casino because you think it will make your old partner happy?"
"It's the best reason I can think of," I shrugged. "Bunny, he's been a combination father, teacher, coach, and Dutch uncle to me since Garkin was killed. I've lost track of the number of times he's saved my skin, usually by putting his own between me and whatever was incoming. With all I owe him, disposing of something that's bothering him seems a pretty small payback, but one I'll deliver without batting an eye."
"You might try to give him an assignment or two," she said, pursing her lips. "Maybe if he were a bit busier, he wouldn't have the time to brood and fault-find over the stuff you're doing without him."
I waited a heartbeat too long before laughing.
"Aahz is above petty jealousy, really," I said, wishing I was more sure of it myself. "Besides, I am trying to find an assignment for him. It's just that Perverts... excuse me, Pervects... aren't noted for their diplomacy in dealing with clients."
Not wishing to pursue the subject further, I gathered up a handful of proposals.
"Right now, I've got to go through these proposals a couple more times until I've got them straight in my mind."
"What's the problem? Just pick the best one and go with it."
I grimaced bitterly.
"It's not that easy. With some of these proposals, it's like comparing apples and oranges. One offers an ongoing percentage of profits... another is quoting a high purchase price, but wants to pay in installments... there are a handful that are offering stock in other businesses in addition to cash... it's just not that easy to decide which is actually the best offer."
"Maybe I can help," Bunny said, reaching for the stack of proposals. "I've had a fair amount of experience assessing offers."
I put my hand on the stack, intercepting her.
"Thanks for the offer. Bunny, but I'd rather do it myself. If I'm going to be president, I've got to learn to quit relying on others. The only way I'll learn to be self-reliant is to not indulge in depending on my staff."
She slowly withdrew her hand, her eyes searching mine as if she weren't sure she recognized me. I realized she was upset, but, reviewing what I had said, couldn't find anything wrong with my position. Too tired to sort it out just then, I decided to change the subject.
"While you're here, though, could you give me a quick briefing of what's on the dockets for tomorrow? I'd like to clear the decks to work on this stuff if l can."
Whatever was bothering her vanished as she became the efficient secretary again.
"The only thing that's pressing is assigning a team to a watchdog job. The client has a valuable shipment we're supposed to be guarding tomorrow night."
"Guard duty?" I frowned. "Isn't that a little low-class for our operation?"
"I thought so," she smiled sweetly, "but apparently you didn't when you committed us to it two weeks ago. A favor to one of your lunch buddies. Remember?"
"Oh. Right. Well, I think we can cover that one with Gleep. Send him over... and have Nunzio go along to keep an eye on him."
"All right."
She started to leave, but hesitated in the door.
"What about Aahz?"
I had already started to plunge into the proposals again and had to wrench my attention back to the conversation.
"What about him?"
"Nothing. Forget I asked."
There was no doubt about it. The staff was definitely starting to get a bit strange. Shaking my head, I addressed the proposals once more.
INEVITABLY, WHEN CONVERSING WITH my colleagues of the dragon set, and the subject of pets was raised, an argument would ensue as to the relative advantages and disadvantages of humans as pets. Traditionally, I have maintained a respectful silence during such sessions, being the youngest member in attendance and therefore obligated to learn from my elders. This should not, however, be taken as an indication that I lack opinions on the subject. I have numerous well-developed theories, which is the main reason I welcomed the chance to test them by acquiring a subject as young and yet as well traveled as Skeeve was when I first encountered him. As my oration unfolds, you will note... but I'm getting ahead of myself. First things first is the order of business for organized and well-mannered organisms. I am the entity you have come to know in these volumes as...
"Gleep! C'mere, fella."
That is Nunzio. He is neither organized nor well-mannered. Consequently, as is so often the case when dealing with Skeeve and his rather dubious collection of associates, I chose to ignore him. Still, an interesting point has been raised, so I had probably best address it now before proceeding.
As was so rudely pointed out, I am known to this particular batch of humans, as well as to the readers of these volumes, simply as Gleep. For the sake of convenience, I will continue to identify myself to you by that name, thereby eliminating the frustrating task of attempting to instruct you in the pronunciation of my real name. Not only am I unsure you are physically able to reproduce the necessary sounds, but there is the fact that I have limited patience when it comes to dealing with humans. Then, too, it is customary for dragons to adopt aliases for these cross-phylum escapades. It saves embarrassment when the human chroniclers distort the facts when recording the incidents... which they invariably do.
If I seem noticeably more coherent than you would expect from my reputed one-word vocabulary, the reason is both simple and logical. First, I am still quite young for a dragon, and the vocal cords are one of the last things to develop in regard to our bodies. While I am quite able to converse and communicate with others of my species, I have another two hundred years before my voice is ready to attempt the particular combination of sounds and pitches necessary to converse extensively with humans in their own tongue.
As to my mental development, one must take into consideration the vast differences in our expected lifespan. A human is considered exceptional to survive for a hundred years, whereas dragons can live for thousands of years without being regarded as old by their friends and relations. The implications of this are too numerous to count, but the one which concerns us here is that, while I am perhaps young for a dragon, I am easily the oldest of those who affiliate themselves with Skeeve. Of course, humans tend to lack the breeding and upbringing of my kind, so they are far less inclined to heed the older and wiser heads in their midst, much less learn from them.
"Hey, Gleep! Can you hear me? Over here, boy."
I made a big show of nibbling on my foot as if troubled by an itch. Humans as a whole seem unable to grasp the subtleties of communication which would allow them to ascertain when they are being deliberately ignored, much less what it implies. Consequently, I have devised the technique of visibly demonstrating I am preoccupied when confronted with a particularly rude or ignorant statement or request. This not only serves to silence their yammerings, it slows the steady erosion of my nerves. To date, the technique yields about a twenty percent success ratio, which is significantly better than most tactics I have attempted. Unfortunately, this did not prove to be one of those twenty percenters.