We haggled back and forth for a few minutes, but eventually settled on a figure. It seemed fair, and I wasn’t exactly in a position to be choosy. If the device the cabbie had used was widespread in his profession, my disguise would be blown the second I stepped into a cab, and there was no guarantee the next driver would be as well disposed toward off-dimensioners as our current junior entrepreneur.
“Okay, you’ve got yourself a guide,” the driver said at last. “Now, who am I working for?”
“I’m Skeeve, and the Djin with me is Kalvin.”
“Don’t know about the Djin,” the cabbie shrugged. “Either he don’t talk much or I can’t hear him. Pleased to meetcha, though, Mr. Skeeve. I’m Edvik.” He extended a hand into the back seat, which I shook cautiously. I had encountered Pervish handshakes before and could still feel them in my joints in wet weather. “So, where do you want to go first?”
That seemed like a strange question to me, but I answered it anyway.
“To a hotel, same as before.”
“Uh-uh.”
“Excuse me?” I said, puzzled.
“Hey, you hired a guide, you’re going to get one. You’re about to check into a hotel, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, you try to check into a Pervish hotel the way you are, without luggage, and they’re going to give you a rough time whether they figure you’re from off-dimension or not. They’ll be afraid that you’re trying to get access to a room to steal the furniture or maybe to try to break into other rooms on the same floor.”
That was a new concept to me. While I had a fairly extensive wardrobe at home, I usually traveled light when I was working . . . like with the clothes I was wearing and money. It had never occurred to me that a lack of luggage would cause people to be suspicious of my intentions. “What do you think, Kalvin?”