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be too worried about me. As soon as I can get free I will rejoin you." The ornate signature was already familiar to me from the flyleaf of Zol's book.

“He's still got his notebook.” Bunny breathed a sigh of relief.

“But where is he being held?” I asked.

“I don't know. How can we find him?”

Tananda aimed a fingernail at Bytina. “Does it... or, should I say, she ... have any ideas?”

“Do you, sweetie?” Bunny asked, stroking the little de?vice with her fingertip.

Apparently she did. A blank correspondence card ap?peared in the center of the mirror. A long, fluffy quill dropped into view, dipped itself into an inkwell, and wrote upon the creamy whiteness, “Where are you?” The pen and ink vanished, and the card slid into an envelope marked 'To Zol Icty." The sealed letter dropped out of sight, leav?ing the mirror blank. The PDA hummed as though it was proud of itself. Bunny petted it some more.

“Isn't she clever?” my assistant beamed. I rolled my eyes.

We were in the middle of a second round of doughnuts and hot drinks when the ringing sound came that we had learned to associate with engraved messages being deliv?ered to Bytina. Bunny opened the little compact. We all crowded around the tiny mirror to see what it had received.

It wasn't a message. Instead, Zol's pale oval face looked at us out of the mirror. “Oh, how fortunate to see all three of you,” he exclaimed. “I am here on Scamaroni.”

“So are we,” I replied, relieved that he looked well and unharmed, though there were deep circles around his huge dark eyes. “We're in a cafe just off the main street, about three blocks from the jail.”

“I can't come to you right now,” the little gray man re?sponded, with a shake of his head. “I'm afraid I'm tied up.”

'Tied up!“ I echoed, ready to spring to my feet. ”Well,

we're here to rescue you. What kind of vile dungeon have they got you imprisoned in?"

There was a long pause, while Zol's whole face twisted strangely. I glanced at Bunny to see if Bytina was causing it to distort. It was a moment before he answered me.

“Good friend Skeeve, I think you misunderstand my circumstances, though I am proud that you have my best interests in mind. I must clarify: I cannot leave my present location because I have quite a number of people who need my services. Perhaps you can join me?”

I must have goggled. Bunny grabbed Bytina out of my hands. “Where?” she demanded.

“I'm in an open-​air cafe down by the river, running a group encounter session to help wean the Scammies from those evil goggles. If you walk sunward from the correc?tions facility bridge, you will soon see me.”

“Sure,” I agreed, faintly puzzled. We paid our bill, then followed his directions.

Myth 13 - Myth Alliances

EIGHTEEN

"Finding yourself takes a long time,

and costs a lot of money."

Ñs. freud

Cresting the top of a hill on the street that led away from the jail, I could not immediately spot Zol Icty. There was too much of a crowd. Down near the small bistro were a thousand or more Scammies. They were all sitting or lying down on the blue-​green grass on the bank, facing the cen?ter, where our little gray man sat at a table furnished with a teapot, a cup and saucer, and lofty stacks of his latest book. Every one of the audience members seemed to be in a blissful trance, smiling vacantly. The thin voice of our companion rose and fell in a sing-​song tone. The heads nodded in unison when he spoke.

"... Once you have really looked inside yourself and know who you really are, you can begin to understand the wonder that is you. You need no artificial stimulants or de?vices to enhance the very you-​ness of you. You have but to face your reality, and be satisfied with it. It doesn't matter if your acquaintances have riches or opportunities that you lack Ñyou have your identity, your uniqueness, and that is

more precious than gold, more interesting than any false storyteller. Be true to yourselves."

Eyelids fluttering, Bunny let out a huge sigh. Groaning, I led my friends down toward Zol. If there was anything more painful than realizing his advice was off-​kilter, it was listening to his mumbo-​jumbo. In my opinion it was the verbal equivalent of illusions, disguising the reality under?neath. But people seemed to respond to it. The rapt expres?sions were as fixed as anything I'd seen in hypnosis subjects.

Halfway down the slope I noticed that the site was sur?rounded by dozens of police officers. I skirted them ner?vously. They, too, were smiling contentedly. I spotted Officers Gelli and Koblinz. They saluted me pleasantly when I caught their eye. I knew they could not recognize me in my disguise, but it made me nervous all the same. They, too, had become true to themselves once again. I couldn't wait for Zol to finish autographing copies of his book so we could get out of Scamaroni for good, and leave our problems behind Ñor at least 80 percent of them.

“Madam,” Senior Domari repeated wearily, “we cannot produce that witness. I know you want to confront him. You can't. Now, I ask you again to explain how it is that two of your number escaped from this facility last night, but there were still eight of you in the cells this morning?”

“Sonny,” Vergetta countered, “All I want to do

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