As if to confirm my analysis, one of them giggled.

"You must be Aahz. You look just like your picture."

The others tittered. I eyed them.

"Where did you see my picture?" I asked.

"Your mother showed it to us," the tallest one replied.

"My mother?"

"Your mother?" Guido asked curiously, leaning closer. I waved him back.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

"Well, Aahz...mandius?" the tall one began in a tentative manner.

"Just Aahz," I interrupted tersely. I was aware that all the patrons within five tables, mostly red-skinned Deveels, the natives of this dimension, had stopped drinking and had leaned as close as they could, the better to hear our exchange.

"Aahz, then. We need—This is kind of embarrassing—"

"Then sit down and lower your voices," I advised, beginning to lose patience. I glared at the eavesdroppers, who suddenly remembered they had better things to do.

I gestured at the bench on the other side of the table. With uneasy and distasteful glances, as if they had just picked up on their surroundings, the three females slid onto it.

"Yeah?" I urged them.

They dithered.

"You ask him, Jinetta," said the smallest.

"No, it was Pologne's idea," the tallest said.

"It was not!" the middle one exclaimed.

My species is not easily embarrassed, so whatever was eating these three had to be pretty bad. From birth we Pervects are raised to know we're a superior race throughout the dimensions. Few types are capable of supporting both magik and technology, and Perv has both. We're stronger, faster and smarter than most other dimension

travelers, or demons for short, so if that self-knowledge makes us a little arrogant, so be it. Of all the beings in the Bazaar, these three Pervects had come to consult one of their own.

I was becoming bored with the byplay. Cleared my throat meaningfully. The three stopped their bickering and turned to face me.