If this seems like a sudden bolt from the blue to you, it isn't. The area of Perv I was covering was large enough that I was spending considerable time riding back and forth in Edvick's taxi, and it gave me lots of time to think and reflect on what I was seeing and hearing. What's more, the advice given me by the Butterfly and Kalvin, not to mention the questions I had to ask myself about trying to fetch Aahz, had given me cause to reexamine my own attitudes and priorities, so I had plenty to think about. Dealing with what seemed to be an endless parade of people who had never heard of me before, much less met me, gave me a unique chance to observe how people interacted. More and more I found myself reflecting on how I reacted to them and they reacted to me. Pervects had a reputation for being nasty and vicious, not to mention arrogant. There was also ample evidence that they could be more than slightly rude. Still, I had also encountered individuals who had been helpful and gentle, such as the Butterfly, and even those like J.R. who would risk themselves physically for a near stranger who was in trouble. Clearly there was danger in stereotyping people, though it was interesting to observe the behavior patterns which had developed to deal with a crowded, competitive environment. Even more interesting was noting those who seemed immune to the environmental pressure that ruled the others about them.
The more I thought about it, the more I began to see pieces of myself reflected in the Pervish behavior. Kalvin had commented on my actively trying to be strong... of being cold and ruthless in an effort to hide my own feared weaknesses. Was it all that different with the blustering Pervects who would rather shout than admit they might be wrong? Were my own feelings of insecurity and inadequacy making me insensitive and closed to the very people who could help me?
The thought was enough to inspire me to voice my frustrations to Edvick and ask if he had any thoughts as to alternate methods of searching the magikal community.
"I was just thinking about that, Skeeve," he said over his shoulder,' "but I didn't figure it was my place to say anything unless you asked."
"Well, I'm asking. After all, there's no shame in admitting you know this dimension better than I do." That last was said as much to myself as to Edvick, but the cabbie accepted it in stride.
"Too true. Well, what I was thinking was that instead of working to get magicians to talk about potential competitors, maybe you should try checking the schools."
"The schools?"
"Sure. You know, the places that teach these spell slingers their trade. They should have some kind of records showing who's learned what. What's more, they should be willing to share them since you're not a competitor."
That made sense, but it seemed almost too easy. "Even if that's true, do you think they would bother to keep current addresses on their old students?"
"Are you kidding?" the cabbie laughed. "How else could the old Alma Mater be able to solicit donations from their alumni? This may not be Deva, but do you think a Pervect would lose track of a revenue source?"
I felt my hope being renewed as he spoke. "That's a great idea, Edvick! How many magik schools are there, anyway?"
"Not more than a dozen or so of any note. Nowhere near the number of businesses. If I were you, I'd start with the biggest and work your way down."
"Then that's what we'll do. Take me to the top of the list and don't spare the lizards... and Edvick? Thanks."
The grounds of the Magikal Institute of Perv (MIP) occupied an entire city block. I say grounds because much of it was well trimmed lawns and bushes, a marked contrast to the closely packed buildings and alleys that seemed to compose the majority of Perv. Stately old buildings of brick or stone were scattered here and there, apparently oblivious to the bustling metropolis that screeched and honked scant yards from their tranquility. Looking at them, one could almost read their stoic thoughts: that if they ignored it long enough, maybe the rest of the world would go away. There was an iron fence surrounding the school in token protection from intrusion, but the gate stood wide open.
I peered out the windows of the cab in curiosity as we drove up to what Edvick said was the administration building, hoping to catch a glimpse of the students practicing their lessons, but was disappointed. The people I saw were much more interested in being young—skylarking and flirting with each other—than in demonstrating their learning to a casual visitor. I did, however, notice there were more than a few students from off-dimension in their number. Either the school was much more tolerant of off-worlders than the rest of the dimension, or they simply weren't as picky about who they accepted money from. I never did get a chance to find out which it really was.
After a few inquiries, I was shown into the office of the head record keeper. That individual listened carefully to my story, though he was so still and outwardly calm that I found myself fighting a temptation to make a face at him in mid sentence just to see if he was really paying attention. I have a hunch I would not do well in a formal educational environment.
"I see," he said, once I had ground to a halt. "Well, your request seems reasonable. Aahz... Aahz... I don't recall the name off-hand, but it does ring some sort of a bell. Oh well, we can check it easily enough. GRETTA!?" In response to his call, a young female Pervect appeared in the office door. She glanced quickly at Pookie who was leaning against the wall behind me, but except for that ignored my bodyguard as completely as the record keeper had.
"Yes sir?"
"Gretta, this is Mr. Skeeve. He's trying to locate someone who might have been a student here. I'd like you to help him locate the appropriate file in the archives... if it exists. Mr. Skeeve, this is Gretta. She's one of the apprentices here who helps us... is something wrong?" I had suddenly drawn back the hand I had been extending to shake hands with Gretta, and the record keeper had noted the move.
"Oh, nothing... really," I said embarrassed. I quickly reached out and shook the offered hand. "It's a... bad habit I learned from Aahz. I really should break it. You were saying?"
The record keeper ignored my efforts to cover the social gaff.
"What bad habit is that?"
"It's silly, but... Well, Aahz, back when he was my teacher, wouldn't shake hands with me once I became his apprentice. When we first met and after we became partners it was okay, but not while I was his student. I don't shake hands with apprentices he used to say... only louder. I hadn't realized I had picked it up until just now. Sorry, Gretta. Nothing personal."
"Of course... Aahzmandius!"
The record keeper seemed suddenly excited.
"Excuse me?" I said, puzzled.
"Gretta, this won't require a file search after all. Bring me the file on Aahzmandius... it will be in the dropout file... three or four centuries back if I recall correctly." Once the apprentice had scampered off, the record keeper returned his attention to me once more. "I'm sorry, Mr. Skeeve. I just managed to recall the individual you're looking for. Refusing to shake hands with apprentices was the tipoff. It was one of his least objectionable quirks. Aahzmandius! After all these years I can still remember him."
After searching so long I was reluctant to believe my luck.
"Are you sure we're talking about the same person? Aahz?"
"Oh my, yes. That's why the name rang a bell. Aahz was the nickname Aahzmandius would use when he was exercising his dubious love of practical jokes... or doing anything else he didn't want reflected on his permanent record, for that matter. There was a time when that name would strike terror into the hearts of any under-classman on campus."