Now, some of you might be wondering why I was so willing to experiment with a strange drink after everything I've been saying about food on Perv. Well, truth to tell, I was son of hoping this venture would end in disaster. You see, by this time I had cooled off enough to acknowledge that Kalvin was probably right about going back to the hotel, but I had made such a big thing out of making an independent decision that changing my mind now would be awkward. Somewhere in that train of thought, it occurred to me that if this new drink made me sick, I would have an unimpeachable reason for reversing my earlier decision. With that in mind, I raised the glass to my lips and took a sip. The icy burst that hit my throat was such a surprise that I involuntarily took another swallow... and another. I hadn't realized how thirsty I was after my brisk walk until I hit the bottom of the glass without setting it down or taking a breath. Whatever this stuff was, it was absolutely marvelous, and the vaguely bitter aftertaste only served to remind me I wanted more.
"Bring me another of these," I ordered the bartender, who was still sorting through my coins. "And can you bring it in a larger container?"
"I could bring you a pitcher," he grumbled.
"Perfect... and pull a little extra there for your trouble."
"Say... thanks."
The bartender's mood and opinion of me seemed to have improved as he made his way to the bar. I congratulated myself for remembering what Edvik had said about tipping. "I suppose it would be pushy to try to point out that you're drinking on an empty stomach," the Djin said drily.
"Not at all," I grinned.
For once I was ahead of him and raised my voice to call the bartender.
"Say! Could you bring me some of that popcorn while you're at it?"
Most of the bar snacks that were laid out seemed to be in mesh-covered containers to keep them from crawling or hopping away. Amidst these horrors, however, I had spotted a bin of popcorn when I came in, and had made special note of it; thinking that at least some forms of junk food appeared to be the same from dimension to dimension.
"Happy now?"
"I'd be happier if you picked something that was a little less salty," Kalvin grimaced, "but I suppose it's better than nothing."
The bartender delivered my pitcher along with a basket of popcorn, then wandered off to greet some new patrons who had just wandered in. I tossed a handful of the popcorn into my mouth and chewed it while I refilled my glass from the pitcher. It was actually more spicy than salty, which made me revise some of my earlier thoughts about the universality of junk food, but I decided not to mention this discovery to Kalvin. He was fussing at me enough already. "So, what do you want to talk about?" I said, forcing myself not to immediately wash down the popcorn with a long drink from the glass.
The Djin leaned back and cocked an eyebrow at me. "Well, your mood seems to have improved, Imt I was under the impression you might want to talk about the Butterfly's advice this afternoon."
As soon as he spoke, my current bubble of levity popped and my earlier depression slammed into me like a fist. With out thinking I drained half the contents of my glass. "I don't know, Kalvin. I've got a lot of respect for the Butterfly, and I'm sure he meant well, but what he said has raised a lot of questions in my mind... questions I've never really asked myself before."
I topped off my glass casually, hoping the Djin wouldn't notice how fast I was drinking the stuff. "Questions like... ?"
"Well, like... What are friends... really? On the rare occasions the subject comes up, all people seem to talk about is the need to be needed. All of a sudden I'm not sure I know what that means."
Somehow, my glass had gotten empty again. I refilled it as I continued.
"The more I look at it, the more I think that if you really need your friends, it's either a sign of weakness or laziness. You either need or want people to do your thinking for you, or your fighting for you, or whatever. Things that by rights you should be able to do for yourself. By rights, that makes you a parasite, existing by leeching off other people's strength and generosity."
I started to take a drink and realized I was empty. I suspected there was a leak in the glass, but set it aside, resolving to let it sit there for a while before I tried refilling it again.
"On the other hand, if you don't need your friends, what good are they? Friends take up a big hunk of your time and cause a lot of heartache, so if you don't really need them, why should you bother? In a sense, if they need you, then you're encouraging them into being parasites instead of developing strength on their own. I don't know. What do you think, Kalvin?"
I gestured at him with my glass, and realized it was full again. So much for my resolve. I also realized the pitcher was almost empty.
"That's a rough one, Skeeve," the Djin was saying, and I tried to focus on his words. "I think everybody has to reach their own answer, though it's a rare person who even thinks to ask the question. I will say it's an over-simplification to try to equate caring about someone with weakness, just as I think it's wrong to assume that if we can learn from our friends, they're actually controlling our thinking." He stopped and stared at my hand. I followed his gaze and realized I was trying to fill my empty glass from an empty pitcher.
"I also think," he sighed, "that we should definitely head back to the hotel now. Have you paid the tab? Are we square here?"
"Thass another thing," I said, fighting to get the words out past my tongue, which suddenly seemed to have a mind of its own. "What he said about money. I haven't been using my money right."
"For cryin' out loud, Skeeve! Lower your voice!"
"No, really! I've got all thissh money..." I fumbled my moneybelt out and emptied the gold onto the table.
"... And has it made ME happy? Has it made ANY BODY happy?"
When no answer came, I blinked my eyes, trying to get Kalvin back into focus. When he finally spoke, he seemed to be very tense, though his voice was very quiet. "I think you may have just made someone happy, but I don't think it'll be you."
That's when I noticed the whole bar was silent. Looking around, I was surprised to see how many people had come in while we were talking. It was an ugly-looking crowd, but no one seemed to be talking to each other or doing anything. They just stood there looking at me... or to be more exact, looking at the table covered with my money.
Chapter Twelve:
"HOLY BATSHIT, FATMAN! I mean..."
—ROBIN
"I... THINK I'VE made a tactic... tad... an error," I whispered with as much dignity as I could muster.
"You can say that again," Kalvin shot back mercilessly. "You forgot the first rule of survivaclass="underline" Don't tease the animals. Look, Skeeve, do you want to get out of here, or do you want to get out with your money?"
"Want... my money." I wasn't that drunk... or maybe I was.
The Djin rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"I was afraid of that. That's going to be a little rougher. Okay, the first thing you do is get that gold out of sight. I don't think they'll try anything in here. There are too many witnesses, which means too many ways to split the loot." I obediently began to pick up the coins. My hands seemed to lack the dexterity necessary to lead them back into my moneybelt, so I settled for shoving them into my pockets as best I could.
The bar was no longer silent. There was a low murmur going around that sounded ominous even in my condition as various knots of patrons put their heads together. Even without the dark looks they kept shooting in my direction it wasn't hard to guess what the subject of their conversation was.
"The way I see it, if there's going to be trouble, it will hit when we leave. That means the trick is to leave without their knowing it. Order another pitcher." That's when I realized how much I'd already had to drink.