"Kalvin, I'd like to apologize."

He seemed to relax a little.

"Oh, that's okay, Skeeve. It's just that . . ."

"No, I insist. It was rude of me to order without asking if you wanted something to eat, too. It's just that it would have been awkward trying to order food for someone no one else could see. Understand what I'm trying to say?"

"Of course."

I seemed to be losing him again.

"It wasn't that I had forgotten about you, really," I pressed. "I just thought that as small as you are, you 68 wouldn't eat much and we could probably share my order.

Now I can see that that's rather demeaning to you, so if you'd like your own order ..."

"Sharing your meal will be fine. Okay? Can we drop the subject now?"

Whatever was bothering the Djin, my efforts to change his mood were proving woefully inadequate. I debated let- ting it go for the moment, but decided against it. Letting things go until later was how the situation with Aahz had gotten into its current state.

"Say ... um ... Kalvin?"

"Now what?"

"It's obvious that I've gotten you upset, and my trying to make amends is only making things worse. Now, it wasn't my intent to slight you in any way, but it seems to have happened anyway. If I can't make things better, can you at least tell me what it was I did so that I don't fall into the same trap again?"

"The wine doesn't help."

I nodded at Kalvin's terse response. He was right. The wine was. .h.i.tting me harder than I had expected, making it difficult to focus on him and what he was saying.

"It doesn't help . . . but that's not the whole problem,"

I said. "All alcohol does is amplify what's there already.

It may make my irritating habits more irritating, but it isn't causing them."

"True enough," he admitted grudgingly.

"So lay it on me," I urged. "What is it about me that's so irritating? I try to be a nice guy, but lately it hasn't been working so well. First with Aahz, and now with you."

The Djin hesitated before answering.

"I haven't really known you all that long, Skeeve. Any- thing I could say would be a snap judgment."

"So give me a snap judgment. I really want to . . ."

69.

"Your dinner. Sir!"

The Pervect who had first seated me was hovering over my table again, this time with the waiter in tow. That latter notable was staggering under a huge covered platter which had steam rising from it enticingly.

I was desperately interested in hearing what Kalvin had to say, but the sight of the platter reminded me that I was desperately hungry as well. Apparently the Djin sensed my dilemma.

"Go ahead and eat, Skeeve," he said. "I can hold until you're done."

Nodding my thanks, I turned my attention to the waiting Pervect.

"It smells delicious," I managed, honestly surprised.

"What is it?"

"Wan uf ze House Specialties," he beamed, reaching for the tray cover. "From Klah!"

The tray cover disappeared with a flourish, and I found myself face-to-face with someone else from my home dimen- sion of Klah. Unfortunately, he wasn't serving the meal. . .

he was the meal! Roasted, with a dead rat in his mouth as a garnish.

I did the only sane thing that occurred to me.

I fainted.

Chapter Eight:.

"There's never a cop around when you need one!"

-A. CAPONE "SKEEVE!".

The voice seemed to come from far away.

"C'mon, Skeeve! Snap out of it! We've got trouble!"

That caught my attention. I couldn't seem to get oriented, but if there was one thing I didn't need it was more trouble.

More trouble? What . . . later! First, deal with whatever^ going on now!

I forced my eyes open.

The scene which greeted me brought a lot of the situation back with a rush. I was in a restaurant ... on the floor, to be specific ... a Pervish waiter was hovering over me . . .

and so was a policeman!

At first I thought it was the same one we had encountered earlier, but it wasn't. The similarities were enough that they could have come out of the same litter ... or hatching.

They both had the same square jaw, broad shoulders and potbelly, not to mention a very hard glint in their otherwise bored-looking eyes.

71.

72.

I struggled to sit upright, but wobbled as a wave of diz- ziness washed over me.

"Steady, Skeeve! You're going to need your wits about you for this one!"

Kalvin was hovering, his face-lined with concern.

"W . . . what happened?" I said.

Too late I remembered that I was the only one who could see or hear the Djin. Ready or not, I had just opened the conversation with the others.

"It seems you fainted, boyo," the policeman supplied.

"I theenk he just does not vant to pay for zee food he ordered."

That was from the Pervect who had seated me, but his words brought it all back to me. The special dish from Klah!

'' He served me a roast Klahd on a platter!'' I said, leveling a shaky but accusing finger at the Pervect.

"Is that a fact now?"

The policeman c.o.c.ked an eye at the Pervect, who became quite agitated.

' 'Non-sense! Eet is against the law to serve sentient beings without a li-cense. See for yourself, Offi-sair! Thees is a replica on-ley."

Sure enough, he was right! The figure on the platter was actually constructed on pieces of unidentifiable cuts of meat with what looked like baked goods filling in the gaps. The rat seemed to be authentic, but I'll admit I didn't look close.

The overall effect was, as I can testify, horrifyingly real.

The policeman studied the dish closely before turning his attention to the waiter once more.

"Don't ya think it was a trifle harsh, servin' the lad with what seemed to be one of his own?"

"But he deed not look like thees when he came in! I on-ley served heem what he asked for . . . sometheeng from Klah!"

73.

That's when I became aware of the fact that my disguise spell was no longer on. I must have lost control of it when I fainted. When it disappeared, however, was not as impor- tant as the fact that it was gone! I was now seen by one and all as what I really was ... a Klahd!

The policeman had now turned his gaze on me and was studying me with what I felt was unhealthy interest.

"Really, now," he said. "Perhaps you could be tellin'

how it is you come to be wearin' a disguise in such a fine place? It couldn't be that you were plannin' to skip out without payin' fer yer meal, could it?"

"No. It's just that..." I paused as a wave of dizziness pa.s.sed. "Well, I've heard you can get better service and prices on Perv if folks don't know you're from off-dimen- sion."

"Bad answer, Skeeve," Kalvin hissed, but I had already figured that out.

The policeman had gone several shades darker, and his head almost disappeared into his neck. Though his tone was still cordial, he seemed to be picking his words very care- fully.

"Are ya tryin' to tell me you think our whole dimension is full of clip joints and thieves? Is that what yer sayin'?"

Too late I saw my error. Aahz had always seemed to be proud of the fact that Pervects were particularly good at turning a profit. It had never occurred to me that to some, this might sound like an insult.

"Not at all," I said hastily. "I a.s.sumed it was like any other place,, . . that the best prices and services were reserved for locals and visitors got what was left. I was just trying to take advantage of normal priorities, that's all."

I thought it was a pretty good apology. The policeman, however, seemed unimpressed. Unsmiling, he produced a notepad and pencil.

74.

"Name?"

His voice was almost flat and impersonal, but managed to still convey a degree of annoyance.

"Look. I'll pay for the meal, if that's what the problem is."

"I didn't ask if you were payin' for the meal. I asked you what your name is. Now are you going to tell me here, or should we be talkin', down at the precinct station?"

Kalvin was suddenly hovering in front of me again.

"Better tell him, Skeeve," he said, his tone matching his worried expression. "This cop seems to have an Eath up his Yongie."

That one threw me.

"A what up his what?"

The policeman looked up from his notepad.

"And how are ya spellin' that, now?"

"Umm . . . forget it. Just put down 'Skeeve.' That's my name."

His pencil moved briskly, and for a moment I thought I had gotten away with my gaffe. No such luck.

"... And what was that you were sayin' before?"

"Oh, nothing. Just a nickname."

Even to me, the explanation sounded weak. Kalvin groaned as the policeman gave me a hard look before scrib- bling a few more notes on his pad.

"An alias, is it?',' he murmured under his breath.

This was sounding worse all the time.