MYTH-Interpretations: The Worlds of Robert Asprin (43 page)

"Well, you'd better start on that fast, then," Doc said, shaking his head. "Registration is up to their eyebrows with check-ins, and someone is bound to notice if he tries to take an hour off to look up specific room bookings. He'll have to work it in a bit at a time."

"You think it will take him an hour?" Max frowned.

"Easy," Doc said. "There are something like eight hundred professional guests at this thing. You'll see when you try to sort out the schedule. There are fourteen or fifteen separate lines of programming running hourly starting at nine in the morning and going on until midnight or later. I don't envy you the job of sorting out who's going to be where and when."

Max rubbed a hand across his mouth and scowled.

"Maybe we'd be better off focusing on the attendees," he said. "I'm sure there are some major events that most of them will be attending. That might be a good time to hit the rooms."

"I don' know," Doc said. "The costume competition is probably the best attended, but not everyone goes to that. I heard they cover it with closed-circuit television, so people can watch it in their rooms or in the bar."

"This just gets better and better," Max said, shaking his head.

"Well, here's another little goodie to try planning around," Doc said. "After today, maybe even as soon as tonight, security will only let people into the various main hotels if they have convention membership badges."

"What? They can't do that!" Max said. "What about someone like me who's a paid, registered guest of the hotel but not registered for the convention?"

"You'll probably have to work something with hotel security," Doc said. "Of course, that will draw attention to yourself as someone who's wandering through the hotel who isn't a member of the convention
.
.
."

".
.
.
and we don't want that," Max finished for him. "We'll just have to get convention badges for everyone."

"I was afraid you were going to say that." Doc sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, there's about a three hour wait in line to register for the convention," Doc said, "plus it costs something like a hundred dollars apiece. That'll run our overhead for this job right through the ceiling."

Max stared at him.

"Doc, we're thieves," he said carefully. "I didn't say ‘buy us all memberships.'
Steal
us some badges. Got it?"

"Got it," Doc said with a nod,

"I can't believe how tight a lid they're trying to keep on this thing," Max grumbled. "Who are they expecting, anyway? The Pope?"

"No. He was a guest two years ago," Doc said.

Max stared at him.

"I told you it was a big convention." Doc shrugged.

"You're kidding. Right?" Max said at last.

"As a matter of fact, I am." Doc grinned. "But it's still a big convention."

Max heaved a sigh.

"Okay. You got me, that time."

"Sure," Doc said. "If you bothered to check their website, you'd know the Pope canceled two months ago."

"Website?" Max said. "This thing has a website?"

Doc gave him a hard look.

"Max, my nephew has his own website. You might try living in this decade sometime."

"Yeah, well, they teach kids all kinds of stuff in college these days." Max grimaced.

"That's true enough," Doc said. "But my nephew's still in junior high. Well, I'd better start working on getting us those badges."

He headed for the door.

"The Pope canceled two months ago?" Max said, the comment finally sinking in. But Doc was already gone.

But Max's day was just beginning.

The next ones to check in at Briar Patch were Allen and Alexis, the brother/sister team of pickpockets. They both seemed a bit down at the mouth, which was surprising—particularly for Alexis. She was petite and curvaceous and always seemed to glow with sunny innocence. It was part of what made her the perfect distracter and let her brother do his work unnoticed.

"What's the trouble?" Max said. "You two look as if they just made petty theft a capital crime."

"It's this job," Allen said. "I'll tell you, Max, I'm about ready to throw in the towel. Pack it in and write the whole thing off as a bad caper."

"Is it the badges?" Max said. "They can't be
that
hard to liberate."

"No. In fact, that was easy. Here, we even got an extra for you in case you decide to wander around a little," Allen said, handing over a laminated rectangle on a lanyard. "We didn't even have to steal them. Doc figured out an angle. You see, if someone loses their badge, they go back to registration and report it, show some identification, and are issued a new badge for a token penalty fee. All we had to do is buy some badges from attendees for twenty bucks over the penalty fee. We get badges and they get replacement badges and a profit."

"Isn't that kind of crooked?" Max said.

"Well, duh. We are supposed to be thieves, aren't we?"

"I meant for the attendees."

"So?" Allen shrugged. "It's not like we have an exclusive on being crooked."

"Then what
is
the problem?" Max pressed. "I think that with crowds like this, the two of you would make out like bandits, if you'll excuse the expression."

"You haven't seen the crowds," Allen said. "There are a lot of costumes out there—and I mean a
lot.
It's hard to pick a pocket when all they're wearing is a spangled G-string and some glitter. If nothing else, it kills Little Sister's bit as a distraction. With so much flesh parading around, she barely rates a glance."

Max suddenly realized why Alexis seemed depressed.

"And that's not the worst of it," Allen continued. "Right along with the costumes everywhere, there are the photographers."

"Photographers?" Max said.

"So many of them that sometimes it's hard to move across the lobby," Allen confirmed. "They're mostly focusing on the –costumers, but they're bound to get some of the crowd in the pictures as well. All we need is to have some sharp-eyed bunko expert spot us in a bunch of pictures and the balloon will go up big time."

"Well, if you two haven't been working, then what's all this?" Max said, waving a hand at the shopping bags the two had brought in with them.

"Alexis decided we should hit the Dealers' Room," Allen said.

"Dealers' Room?"

"It's kind of like a huge flea market," Allen explained. "There are three ballroom-sized rooms full of tables and booths selling just about anything. They've got T-shirts, DVDs, swords, capes, jewelry, posters, games, and masks. It's really quite impressive."

"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em," Alexis put in. "I'm not going to let a bunch of bimbos in wings and bondage rigs make me look like a wallflower. I picked up a few items that will put them in their place and put me back in position as the team's distracter."

"A few items?" Max said, eyeing the bags and trying not to picture Alexis in a spangled G-string. "Say, wait a minute. How many of those dealers are taking plastic and how many are only accepting cash?"

"I haven't the foggiest," Allen said. "To be honest, I wasn't paying attention. Why?"

"I just thought of a new angle for getting some money out of this job." Max smiled. "Hang on a second."

He grabbed his cell phone and called Doc.

"Hey, Doc," he said when the other answered, "I've got an assignment for you."

"Can it wait a half hour to an hour?" Doc said. "I'm in the autograph line right now."

"Autograph line?" Max said.

"Yeah. They've got a whole Hall of Fame here full of actors and actresses from the movies and television series," Doc explained. "Some of my favorite Scream Queens from the B-films are here signing pictures of themselves and I want to meet them and pick up a couple souvenirs."

Max rubbed his forehead between his eyes.

"Well, when you get done there, I want you to scout the Dealers' Room," he said. "Watch to see which ones are only taking cash, and try to get their names. If we can find out what rooms they're in, it might be a better score than trying to go after the professional guests. Okay?"

There was only silence.

"Doc?"

"Yeah, I'm here, Max," came the reply. "I just got distracted for a moment. There's a Klingon and an Imperial Storm Trooper squaring off for duel."

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Sure. Dealers' Room. Look for cash only. Get names," Doc recited. "I'm on it."

"Check in with me when you're done," Max said, and broke the connection.

Staring at the phone, he shook his head.

"Autograph line," he muttered under his breath.

The day didn't get any better.

Several members of the team never checked in and weren't answering their phones. Max wasn't sure if that was because they had been picked up by the authorities, quit the job in disgust, or had been lured off by the various attractions of the convention.

The members that did check in were mostly discouraged by their lack of success, though nearly all admitted to being distracted by the convention attendees.

It was nearly eight o'clock when Doc knocked on the door again. Max was not smiling as he let him in.

"It's been over six hours," he said coldly.

"Yeah, well, it's worth your life to catch an elevator," Doc said, putting down his bags and packages.

"Elevators," Max said flatly.

"It's a mob scene what with everyone trying to get somewhere else," Doc said. "It must have taken me half an hour to get up here. Anyway, I brought you some dinner."

"That's half an hour," Max said, accepting the bag of food. "I want to hear about the other five and a half hours."

"Well, it took me another two hours to finish up in the Hall of Fame," Doc said, flopping down in a chair. "Then I hit the Dealers' Room like you told me. Man, that Dealers' Room is really something."

"I notice you made a few purchases," Max said, gesturing at the collection of stuff piled on the floor.

"Okay, I'll admit. I got sucked in a little," Doc said. "But really, you should see the stuff they have down there. I figure I'm all set for Christmas. I picked up some T-shirts and a couple Anime DVDs for my nephew. I even scored the complete run of some of the old television shows my Mom and Dad like. I don't know who I'll give the jewelry to, but it's nice enough to keep until the right person or occasion comes along."

"Of course, none of this is for you," Max said drily.

"Some of it is, sure," Doc said. "They've got stuff down there that I haven't seen for sale anywhere else."

"Did you manage to get any of the information I sent you after?" Max said.

"Sure I did," Doc said, acting slightly injured. "I'm not sure how much good it will do you, though. First of all, a lot of them go by nicknames like Big Buddha or the Dark Prince, which probably aren't the names they're registered under. I thought of trying to follow them back to their rooms, but with the crowds and the elevator situation, tailing them won't be all that easy."

"Did you even try?"

"I tried a couple times, but both times they headed for the bar and not their rooms," Doc said. "What's more, from what I overheard of their conversations, most of them have a pack of people staying in their rooms to run down extra inventory as needed, so I'm not sure that we'd ever find a time when the rooms were empty that we could crack them."

"Okay. That's it," Max said, getting to his feet. "I want you to man the Patch for me for a while."

"Where are you going?" Doc said.

"I'm going to check out this convention myself," Max said, gathering up the badge that Allen and Alexis had given him.

"But I think the Dealers' Room is closed now," Doc protested.

"I'm not thinking about the Dealers' Room," Max said. "I want to take a cruise through the whole convention and see exactly what's going on. I still think there's a way to make money of this damn event, and I'm going to try to figure out what it is."

It was early afternoon the next day before Max let himself back in the Briar Patch.

Dropping a couple bags of purchases on the floor, he flopped down on the bed and heaved a deep sigh.

"That," he said, "is one hell of a convention going on out there."

"You'll notice I'm not giving you the ‘Where have you been' greeting that I got," Doc said, looking up from the book he was reading.

"Yeah, well a couple of those bimbos Alexis was complaining about invited me to a room party," Max said. "One thing led to another, and it took a while."

"I see you found the Dealers' Room," Doc said, glancing at the bags.

"Yes, and you were right. They have some incredible things down there," Max said. "Some of it is flat out irresistible."

"Well, for your information, while you were out the team had a little pow-wow," Doc said, putting his book aside. "The consensus seems to be that we should call it quits. There's no real score here worth our time, and we seem to be spending more than we're making. We'll write it off to experience and know not to come back next year."

Max sat up on the bed and gave him a grin.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that if I were you," he said.

"Why not?"

"I told you I'd find an angle, and I did," Max said.

"What've you got?" Doc said.

"Well, at that room party I mentioned, I got to chatting with a couple of the convention organizers," Max said, lying back down. "We'll be back next year, all right, but working for the convention as Security Consultants. That gets us free memberships and rooms, as well as a hefty fee. It'll be a different kind of con job for us, but it gives us an excuse to come back."

editor
'
s note: There is a sad aspect to this amusing story. It first appeared in August 2008 in
Here Be Dragons
, a collection of stories set at one of Bob's favorite conventions, DragonCon in Atlanta. The day after he emailed it Bob died peacefully, but very unexpectedly at his home in New Orleans.