"I mean," I explained, reining in my temper, "that just as I was about to take down that phony, that bad Xerox copy, that fake, one of your guys wrapped me up and tried to apprehend me! Even in the dark, how could anyone mistake my Pervect physique for a Klahd?"

Par's fury turned to surprise.

"My guards should-a been able to tell you apart in any condition. They are-a highly trained to recognize-a the residents of six hundred-a dimensions!" He lifted the globe. "All security forces-a in area L, report to the open stage. Right-anow!"

Within minutes the tiered steps were full of uniformed Flibberites. A few shot puzzled glances at their captain in mufti, but sucked in their bellies and squared their shoulders as Parvattani marched up and down their ranks.

"All right-a," he barked. "We just hadda situation. All you have to do is arrest one Klahd. He's not armed, he's not even-a dressed! And one-a of you mistakes this-a Pervert—"

"That's Per-vect" I corrected him, peevishly. Par didn't miss a beat.

"—Pervect for the perpetrator-a! Now, whatsamatta with you? Who did it?"

The denials were instant and unanimous. "Not me." "Nope." "Not a chance." "I know what Klahds are." "Me, touch a Pervert?" "Nope."

"Come on," the captain bellowed, his voice ringing in the rafters. "Who is it? No punishment if you come-a clean now."

But no one admitted grabbing me.

"Mr. Aahz, maybe you recognize the fool who interrupted you?"

I eyed them all. None of the guards present fitted the silhouette of the guy I'd flung away. "None of them."

Parvattani goggled. "None of them?"

"No," I insisted. I turned away, disgusted with my own impotence. "None of them. Another shapeshifter had to be waiting in the crowd. In the dark none of your men could have identified him as a fraud."

"This is my fault," Massha moaned, floating down beside me. "Sorry, Aahz. My blackout ring went a little haywire. It was only supposed to plunge Skeeve in darkness, not the whole wing. I think the overload that was in the air affected my gizmos."

"It's okay," I reassured her. "I was tracking the shapeshifter by smell." I sighed. "I need a drink."

It didn't help my mood that the buzz about the stripteasing Klahd was already making the rounds at every bar in -The Mall. I nearly coldcocked an Imp who was giving an animated description of the event to a group of his laughing friends, but it wouldn't have done any good. And it wouldn't have made me feel any better.

"It doesn't make any sense," I complained over my beer. "No one's giving the false Skeeve money or anything valuable. How can that draw energy from an audience."

"They're paying attention," Chumley suggested, after a moment's thought. "Have you never told anyone your time is valuable?"

"Time is money," Eskina interjected. "And money is power, and power is—"

"—What Rattila's trying to get," I finished, slamming a fist into my palm. "Well, we can't let it happen again. We have to head off any more performances like that. Par, can you have your guards patrol all the open spaces? If the impostor starts dancing or singing or reciting Hamlet's soliloquy, cut him off before he can gather an audience."

"Aahz, they tried," Par replied, his hands spread helplessly. "He had begun his act by the time anyone noticed. And then, you saw. Too many people were already there."

"We need to fight magik with magik," Massha insisted. "The flow cut off when the house went dark."

"But how can we do that?" Parvattani asked. "None of us are magicians."

Massha beamed broadly. "Nothing to it, honey. I know just what you folks need. Let's go shopping."

"Your boss can pick up the tab," I added. Par looked dubious as Massha led him out of the bar. I tailed along, grinning. He was about to see a real expert in action.

"Beautiful, beautiful!" Rattila applauded Garn when he got back to the Rat Hole. "What a marvelous improvisation! I enjoyed the astonished expressions on all of those faces, and the eagerness they evinced watching you. Why have we never used mass entertainment before? It was fantastic!"

"I felt stupid," Garn admitted, handing over his Skeeve card. "I mean, all those dudes looking at me? I felt like, I was shaving all my fur off in public."

Rattila clutched the small blue square to his chest. Even without the Master Card in his hand to complete the transaction the delicious energy tickled his nerve endings. "Intoxicating!" he declared. "You may not have been comfortable, but you showed a natural talent for attracting attention."

"I do?" Garn asked, blankly.

"You do." Rattila looked at the rest of the mall-rats. "I am sure each of you conceals a hidden talent like Gam's. From now on you will all do that kind of performance art with the Skeeve card, at least once a day."

"C'mon, Ratty," Strewth whined. "We're mall-rats. We shop. We don't act. We don't sing. We don't dance. I mean, it doesn't come naturally. We haven't got any talent. I mean, what's our motivation?"

The lights in the Rat Hole went out, leaving Rattila's blazing red eyes as the only source of light. Strewth and the others cowered deep into the slimy muck.

"I suggest you look deep inside yourselves for the proper motivation," Rattila intoned. "In fact, I insist. Get me a handle on the visitors! And don't call me Ratty!" "Let's see," the female Jahk beamed, floating ahead of the pack of guards up the hall like the banner before a troop of toy soldiers on parade. "Shall we try Meldrum's Magik-land, or Binnie's Spell Box?"

"Magik shopping," Wassup whispered to Yahrayt. "She must have half the guards on duty with her."

"Awesome," Yahrayt breathed. "It'll be all clear for the others to shop."

"Totally!"

Disguised as an elderly male Imp and a Klahdish child of six holding his hand, the two mall-rats fell into line behind the others.

"Goin' on a lion hunt," Wassup sang happily. A Mall guard glanced back over his shoulder. "Goin' on a lion hunt!"

"Shaddup!" Yahrayt hissed. "Mayno should never have brought that Imp's card to Rattila. He's not right in the head!"

"You don't love me?" Wassup asked, forlornly.

Yahrayt had had enough. He tugged Wassup by the ear into the flap of a nearby tent. "Change cards! Now! Anybody?'

Wassup pulled out his deck and selected one at random. The cloth around them bulged as he expanded suddenly from an undersized Imp to a full-sized Gargoyle.

"Cool," he gritted. "Yer right. I feel smarterer now."

"C'mon," Yahrayt snorted, grabbing his arm and hustling him after the file of guards, now disappearing into the crowd. "Follow that Jahk!"

"Wendell's Emporium?" Massha inquired, thumbing through the index at the back of the atlas as she hovered over the heads of the rapt guards. I was bored already with the enterprise, but it would have shown a lack of faith in my associate to split.

"So," I asked the nearest Flibberite, a skinny youth whose huge tunic was more or less wearing him, not the other way around. "How'd you decide to join The Mall security force?"

"My father was in it, sir!" snapped out the recruit. "And my father's father. And my—"

"Never mind," I interrupted him.

"Yes, let's try here," Massha suggested, levitating down to eye level.

"Hey, lady," a heavy voice grated. "Would youse mind answerin' a few survey questions?"

Massha spared a brief glance for the huge Gargoyle who shouldered through the horde of shoppers toward her bearing a clipboard. "Not right now, thanks."

"Hokay. Den would youse take dis survey, and drop it off anyplace when youse done wit' it?" The heavy fist proffered a sheet of closely printed parchment.

"Sure," Massha agreed absently, rolling up the paper and sticking it into her cleavage.

"How about youse, sir?" the Gargoyle requested, turning to me. "You gotta minute?"