It wasn't a message. Instead, Zol's pale oval face looked at us out of the mirror. "Oh, how fortunate to see all three of you," he exclaimed. "I am here on Scamaroni."
"So are we," I replied, relieved that he looked well and unharmed, though there were deep circles around his huge dark eyes. "We're in a cafe just off the main street, about three blocks from the jail."
"I can't come to you right now," the little gray man responded, with a shake of his head. "I'm afraid I'm tied up."
'Tied up!" I echoed, ready to spring to my feet. "Well, we're here to rescue you. What kind of vile dungeon have they got you imprisoned in?"
There was a long pause, while Zol's whole face twisted strangely. I glanced at Bunny to see if Bytina was causing it to distort. It was a moment before he answered me.
"Good friend Skeeve, I think you misunderstand my circumstances, though I am proud that you have my best interests in mind. I must clarify: I cannot leave my present location because I have quite a number of people who need my services. Perhaps you can join me?"
I must have goggled. Bunny grabbed Bytina out of my hands. "Where?" she demanded.
"I'm in an open-air cafe down by the river, running a group encounter session to help wean the Scammies from those evil goggles. If you walk sunward from the corrections facility bridge, you will soon see me."
"Sure," I agreed, faintly puzzled. We paid our bill, then followed his directions.
EIGHTEEN
"Finding yourself takes a long time,
and costs a lot of money."
—s. freud
Cresting the top of a hill on the street that led away from the jail, I could not immediately spot Zol Icty. There was too much of a crowd. Down near the small bistro were a thousand or more Scammies. They were all sitting or lying down on the blue-green grass on the bank, facing the center, where our little gray man sat at a table furnished with a teapot, a cup and saucer, and lofty stacks of his latest book. Every one of the audience members seemed to be in a blissful trance, smiling vacantly. The thin voice of our companion rose and fell in a sing-song tone. The heads nodded in unison when he spoke.
"... Once you have really looked inside yourself and know who you really are, you can begin to understand the wonder that is you. You need no artificial stimulants or devices to enhance the very you-ness of you. You have but to face your reality, and be satisfied with it. It doesn't matter if your acquaintances have riches or opportunities that you lack—you have your identity, your uniqueness, and that is more precious than gold, more interesting than any false storyteller. Be true to yourselves."
Eyelids fluttering, Bunny let out a huge sigh. Groaning, I led my friends down toward Zol. If there was anything more painful than realizing his advice was off-kilter, it was listening to his mumbo-jumbo. In my opinion it was the verbal equivalent of illusions, disguising the reality underneath. But people seemed to respond to it. The rapt expressions were as fixed as anything I'd seen in hypnosis subjects.
Halfway down the slope I noticed that the site was surrounded by dozens of police officers. I skirted them nervously. They, too, were smiling contentedly. I spotted Officers Gelli and Koblinz. They saluted me pleasantly when I caught their eye. I knew they could not recognize me in my disguise, but it made me nervous all the same. They, too, had become true to themselves once again. I couldn't wait for Zol to finish autographing copies of his book so we could get out of Scamaroni for good, and leave our problems behind—or at least 80 percent of them.
"Madam," Senior Domari repeated wearily, "we cannot produce that witness. I know you want to confront him. You can't. Now, I ask you again to explain how it is that two of your number escaped from this facility last night, but there were still eight of you in the cells this morning?"
"Sonny," Vergetta countered, "All I want to do is go home. What'll it take?"
"I wish I could pitch all of you into a bottomless pit, but I am required to follow the rule of law."
"Pitch us! It'd be better than spending another night in your pokey! I've been more comfortable in college dormitories!"
"Perverts," the judge muttered. "Pervects," Vergetta corrected him. "We have a right to be addressed properly, your honor."
"I'm not sure the word doesn't apply," Domari retorted. "I've heard some ugly things about Perverts."
"It's an ugly universe," Vergetta replied philosophically. "You don't want us staying here, judge. Look at the condition of your jail. And if we can slip in and out of here without detection, well, you can't keep us here against our will."
That statement made the judge even more nervous. "Then why are you still here?"
"Because we want to reassure you that we're law-abiding beings. You've heard a lot of other things about Pervects, right? Don't tell me you haven't. I can tell by your face. Let's come to some kind of agreement. I know you'd really like to settle this. So would we."
Senior Domari picked up his stack of papers and began to straighten them again. Vergetta knew she shouldn't harass him any more. The poor boy was at the end of his patience, but so was she. She had too many questions, and no one knew the answers. Who were the two Pervects that had been spotted running away last night? Niki and Caitlin wouldn't have run away if you'd shoved a basilisk in their faces. She hoped they hadn't tried a stupid rescue. Then-job was to stay on Wuh and keep the stupid sheep from bankrupting all of them in her absence. But who was responsible for landing them in jail in the first place? Who was out to destroy their reputation? Who had come in, unprovoked, and messed up their deal so their harmless little toy was considered to be the most dangerous thing since the do-it-yourself landmine kit?
The most puzzling thing was how a Klahd had gotten a hold of a pair of their goggles. It had turned up in the cell that had been vacated by the only real jailbreak. Moms-hone assured her that no units had ever gone to Deva or Klah. Paldine had been convinced at first that someone had created a knockoff and was planning to steal their market, but this pair was one of theirs.
"I must ask you again, er, ladies, which two of you led the patrol on a merry chase all over town early this morning, and then broke into the jail again. And why?"
None of them knew the answer to that question, but the Ten would be damned if they would let an outsider know they didn't know.
"Just a demonstration, your honor," Vergetta offered, a broad grin breaking out over her face.
"A demonstration?" Domari echoed.
"Of course! We're demons, right? So ... never mind," she averted the subject hastily, when the judge showed no signs of getting the joke.
The others glanced at her, but she gave them a hasty wave as if to say, Leave the talking to me, girls. We can use this.
"Look, your little prison might hold Scammies, and it ought to hold scam-mers, if you understand what I'm saying, but I'd like to point out that you couldn't keep a Klahd wizard behind bars for even one night, and believe me when I tell you darlink, that after another night or so those walls aren't going to hold us any longer. And look at the evidence: we can come and go as we please. So why don't you just let us leave? I promise you from the bottom of my heart, that when we go you will never see any of us again. Ever."
The judge looked genuinely tempted. Vergetta could tell that she was beginning to get through to him. She hoped so; it had been an exhausting time, staying up all night bashing at the walls. She wasn't as young as she used to be. It was one thing for young Charilor, who went out partying for a week, then could come home fresh as a daisy and beat up a neighboring army, but for the older folks it was tougher. She hoped the judge's resolve wasn't as durable.