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The Kobold scribes were too busy with their keyboards to look up at us as we entered, but they had noticed us. Several of the screens offered flashes of welcome. A vast silver curtain filled the wall opposite the door. On it was a complicated design that looked like a web. I would have hated to meet the spider-​bear that had woven it; it was gigantic.

“There are an infinitely large number of dimensions that can be reached directly from Wuh,” Zol lectured, ges?turing up at the curtain. A pale beige light erupted close to the center of the web. “As you can see on this screen, we are here,” he pointed to a small silver light immediately ad?jacent to the pale dot. At another gesture the whole chart burst into brilliance as the first-​generation connections lit up. “Based on research I and other field researchers have already gathered, these are the other dimensions we know of that are on a first-​jump basis with Wuh. Now, Pervects have a tolerance for far more poisonous atmospheres and less salubrious terrain than, say, Klahds and Trolls, but we can begin to eliminate numerous dimensions from the to?tal. First of all, we can ignore the ones that don't use magik. And the ones whose level of civilization is insuffi?cient to accept the presence of demons, particularly ones who resemble Pervects. You must admit their appearance takes a little getting used to.”

“You can say that again,” I asserted fervently. Tananda elbowed me hard in the ribs.

“Skeeve!”

“Moreover, we need one whose denizens can make use of a sophisticated philosophical device, one that has a good deal of disposable income, respects wizards openly and has two eyes in a fairly narrow head.”

“How did you figure that out?” I said, genuinely curi?ous. While Zol could be a bit of a pain, there were times when I was overawed by his applications of logic.

"Why from the object that Mistress Tananda ab-

stracted,“ Zol explained, holding up the spectacles. He put them on his own nose. The ear pieces slid down the sides of his head, having no visible ears to clip onto, but the spectacles were still too wide to fit. ”It must be put on will?ingly; there is no spell, strap or adhesive to adhere it to the wearer's head. Once donned it is bespelled to speak di?rectly into the wearer's mind, and to transmit a good deal of data therein."

“What kind of data?” I asked suspiciously.

“Fantasies,” Zol frowned. “Nonsense. Mind-​filling trash that numbs the emotions and dulls the calculating faculties.”

I was horrified. “They're going to take over another di?mension by brainwashing the inhabitants. Who is it? Where is it? We've got to go there and warn them!”

“We have reduced the number of possibilities to thirty-​five dimensions,” Zol calculated, peering into the magik mirror of his book. “It will take some time to narrow our target further.”

“We can visit each one,” I offered. “As soon as one of us spots these glasses, we'll know we're there.”

“It would be easier to wait for the data,” Zol suggested. “Don't exhaust yourselves searching unnecessarily. Let our fingers do the walking.”

I glanced at my companions.

“I have to admit it makes sense,” Tananda shrugged. “Dimensions can be big places. This isn't like a house-​to-​house search.”

“Okay,” I agreed at last, though I was itching to go in search of the Pervect Ten's latest victims and liberate them. “We'll wait.”

Paldine paused until Vergetta and Oshleen materialized be?side her on the steps of the First General Savings Bank of Scamaroni, Volute branch. Volute was a medium-​sized

town within a day's ride of the capital city. Merchants, mostly those who had big holdings in dry goods, kept their factories here, where they could oversee them from their vast and handsome manors. Privilege oozed out of every pore. Even second, third and fourth children had their own carriages. Babies were tended by captive or indentured Genies and Brownies. Even the working class had good clothes, whole shoes and a general air of cleanliness. The?aters and other entertainments abounded, including magikal revues and small venues for performing wizards. They'd ascended far enough above peasantry to be the ideal market for the storytelling goggles. Scamaroni was not unlike Perv, Paldine mused, of several hundred years before Ñif that unnamed Pervect had not discovered elec?tricity and realized it was good for more than a really hilar?ious practical joke. A statue to that long-​ago inventor still stood in the capital, lightning jolting upward from its out?stretched palm, though the name had been excised cen?turies ago, probably by the families of jealous rivals who would like to have taken credit for such a revelation, or by outraged consumers because he had tried to extort a roy?alty every time someone plugged in a vacuum cleaner. A greedy bastard after Paldine's own heart.

“And we're here for what, this early in the morning?” Vergetta asked, as Paldine pulled them into the alley be?tween two buildings to avoid being seen by the locals. “Take it easy on the material, darling.”

“To see the evolution of our marketing empire,” Paldine gloated, pointing. “See there?”

“It's a shop. I've seen thousands.”

“It's our first outlet. I signed him up yesterday. The shop owner, who, by the way, owns ten stores in Volute alone, loved the goggles. His mate loved them. Their children loved them. They thought they were fabulous, the best en?tertainment they had ever seen. Once he got over being

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