"Do you feel that?" Massha asked.
"Yes," Chumley replied, surprised. "A ... pull."
"What kind of pull?" I demanded. "I don't feel a thing."
"It's magikal," Massha explained.
"That is the draw of power," Eskina insisted.
I looked up, then scowled as I realized, for the millionth time, that I couldn't see the lines of force in this dimension—or any other dimension. What a pain in the butt it was not to have my powers!
"He's drawing power from force lines?" I asked.
"No, from the people around us," Massha explained. "Some of them get their energy from the force lines, and it's flowing down to him."
"We have to stop him," I insisted. "Now!"
"Clear the area," Parvattani ordered, flashing the badge he was carrying. The green-skinned captain barked out orders to surround and disperse the mob.
Easier said than done. The phony had their full attention. Young women, and some young men, hopped up and down to look over the heads of the people in front of them. Little old ladies clambered up on the backs of Deveels and Ginorms to get a better view. As the crowd shifted, I got the occasional glimpse of a skinny arm or a bare foot down below.
"Da-DUM-DUM-da-DAH!Da-dadada-DA-dum!"
A howl of laughter arose from the watchers. Massha zipped upward as a tunic came flying overhead past her. I pushed apart the two Imps blocking my way, and caught sight of the impersonator still a hundred feet away. Now bare-chested, he started to fumble with his trouser fastenings. I stumbled down three more levels.
"Stop that Klahd," I bellowed.
"Catch, big guy!" Massha shouted. We glanced up. Massha dropped Eskina into my arms and started fumbling with the pouch of jewelry at her belt. A big plum-colored gem popped out into her hand.
Suddenly, the room went dark. The band music died away. The audience wailed with disappointment. I set Eskina down in the dark and started moving down toward the center of the arena. I kept my orientation by focusing on the sound of the fountain tinkling, pushing aside all the bodies I encountered, seeking out the right one. I didn't have to see the Skeeve-clone. Klahds had a pretty distinctive smell, and the fake copied it down to the last olf. If only he didn't change form before I got to him.
The next moment I caught a scent. It was him!
"He's down there!" I shouted. "Chumley, Massha!" I sped up, climbing over bodies where I had to. The aroma got stronger. I must have been within ten, maybe twenty feet. I threw out my hands, flailing for the impostor.
"I have him, captain!" a voice shouted. I felt arms go around me.
"Let go, you idiot!" I roared. I threw my weight forward, then spun, grabbing a pair of uniformed shoulders and shoving them away. I kept going toward the laughing sound of the water, but the invisible guard tried to tackle me again, leaping on me from behind. "I said, let go!" Tugging him over my shoulder with one hand, I heaved him up over my head and threw him into the crowd. If there was no mosh pit for him to land in, that was his problem.
I reached the cold marble lip of the fountain just as the lights went on again. Chumley, Massha, and I had all reached it at the same time. Except for the twinkling waters, the tiered marble basins were empty. No, not quite. A heap of clothes, including a blue, sequined G-string, lay draped over the edge.
"Awwww!" the crowd bleated. But without an attraction to keep it there, the audience finally drifted away. I kept my eyes open.
"He's around here somewhere," I yelled, waving the handful of garments, "and he's naked as a jaybird!"
Parvattani arrived at my side, already transmitting this information into the globe held to his ear. The other hand waved wildly in emphasis. "Be on the lookout for a naked Klahd. Above-average height, and-a . .. never-a mind! He's naked! That ought-a to be distinctive enough!"
"What the hell is wrong with your guards, Par?" I demanded. "I would have gotten him if one of your men hadn't jumped on my back! They're supposed to help, but I'd do better with a rubber crutch!"
"Whattayou mean?" the captain asked, his ears twitching defensively. He took a step back, but came right up to me again, his fists clenched.
"I mean," I explained, reining in my temper, "that just as I was about to take down that phony, that bad Xerox copy, that fake, one of your guys wrapped me up and tried to apprehend me! Even in the dark, how could anyone mistake my Pervect physique for a Klahd?"
Par's fury turned to surprise.
"My guards should-a been able to tell you apart in any condition. They are-a highly trained to recognize-a the residents of six hundred-a dimensions!" He lifted the globe. "All security forces-a in area L, report to the open stage. Right-anow!"
Within minutes the tiered steps were full of uniformed Flibberites. A few shot puzzled glances at their captain in mufti, but sucked in their bellies and squared their shoulders as Parvattani marched up and down their ranks.
"All right-a," he barked. "We just hadda situation. All you have to do is arrest one Klahd. He's not armed, he's not even-a dressed! And one-a of you mistakes this-a Pervert—"
"That's Per-vect" I corrected him, peevishly. Par didn't miss a beat.
"—Pervect for the perpetrator-a! Now, whatsamatta with you? Who did it?"
The denials were instant and unanimous. "Not me." "Nope." "Not a chance." "I know what Klahds are." "Me, touch a Pervert?" "Nope."
"Come on," the captain bellowed, his voice ringing in the rafters. "Who is it? No punishment if you come-a clean now."
But no one admitted grabbing me.
"Mr. Aahz, maybe you recognize the fool who interrupted you?"
I eyed them all. None of the guards present fitted the silhouette of the guy I'd flung away. "None of them."
Parvattani goggled. "None of them?"
"No," I insisted. I turned away, disgusted with my own impotence. "None of them. Another shapeshifter had to be waiting in the crowd. In the dark none of your men could have identified him as a fraud."
"This is my fault," Massha moaned, floating down beside me. "Sorry, Aahz. My blackout ring went a little haywire. It was only supposed to plunge Skeeve in darkness, not the whole wing. I think the overload that was in the air affected my gizmos."
"It's okay," I reassured her. "I was tracking the shapeshifter by smell." I sighed. "I need a drink."
It didn't help my mood that the buzz about the stripteasing Klahd was already making the rounds at every bar in -The Mall. I nearly coldcocked an Imp who was giving an animated description of the event to a group of his laughing friends, but it wouldn't have done any good. And it wouldn't have made me feel any better.
"It doesn't make any sense," I complained over my beer. "No one's giving the false Skeeve money or anything valuable. How can that draw energy from an audience."
"They're paying attention," Chumley suggested, after a moment's thought. "Have you never told anyone your time is valuable?"
"Time is money," Eskina interjected. "And money is power, and power is—"
"—What Rattila's trying to get," I finished, slamming a fist into my palm. "Well, we can't let it happen again. We have to head off any more performances like that. Par, can you have your guards patrol all the open spaces? If the impostor starts dancing or singing or reciting Hamlet's soliloquy, cut him off before he can gather an audience."
"Aahz, they tried," Par replied, his hands spread helplessly. "He had begun his act by the time anyone noticed. And then, you saw. Too many people were already there."
"We need to fight magik with magik," Massha insisted. "The flow cut off when the house went dark."
"But how can we do that?" Parvattani asked. "None of us are magicians."
Massha beamed broadly. "Nothing to it, honey. I know just what you folks need. Let's go shopping."
"Your boss can pick up the tab," I added. Par looked dubious as Massha led him out of the bar. I tailed along, grinning. He was about to see a real expert in action.