"It's nice to be wanted." J.JAMES

A high female voice ventured timidly, "Are you...Aahz?"

I looked up from a half-empty mug, and nearly spat out my mouthful of beer. Gazing down at me in the close confines of the Haggard Sheep Inn in the Bazaar on Deva were three Pervish females wearing trim, two-piece business suits and clutching briefcases tightly to their chests. My first impulse was to sidle away rapidly, keeping my back against the nearest wall. Next to dragons and Trolls, Pervect women are some of the most dangerous creatures in all the dimensions. I ought to know: I was a Pervect male. Our green, scaly skin covered impressively dense and strong muscles, and inside the skull between our batwing-shaped ears lay devious brains capable of following complex lines of analysis, always geared to our own advantage.

The females stared at me, yellow eyes watchful. I had long ago scoped out the exits in every public building within five miles' radius of our headquarters. The back door was fifteen steps behind me behind a curtain. Could I make it before they drew weapons or cast spells?

Guido, a Klahd and former associate with whom I was having a friendly drink, froze, then his hand inched toward the front of his suit coat where he concealed a miniature crossbow. His pinkish-tan skin paled to a buff color. He obviously shared my discomfort, but he wasn't going to let a business partner face a formidable foe alone.

"Who wants to know?" I growled at the three.

But the Pervish females weren't wearing expressions I associated with assassins or bill collectors. In fact, I realized that their suits were in fashionable pastels with short skirts and

their satchels were color-coordinated to go with the outfits. At first I thought they must be lawyers. Then I realized how young they were. They weren't professionals. They were school girls.