Chapter 5: Tenbou, the Savage

“And STAY out!!!!”

“Whoaaaaa!!!! ... OOF!!!!!” Macauly St. Crackin, owner of Bright-Star Pub on Eighth Street, located somewhere in the North American region of Earth, shook his fist angrily at the grounded Gregory Rodriguez, growled for good measure, and turned his back on the poor guy as he went back inside his bar.

Only a few seconds ago had Gregory been tossed out of the Bright-Star Pub. He was now currently flat on the street, scuffed up just slightly from the impact on the pavement. Although he was in pain, he couldn’t help but smile as an old feeling came back to him, and he rolled over on his back to shout at Macauly.

“Thanks for nothing, Mac!” he shouted. “I guess I’ll see you later, then!”

“Beat it!” shouted the bartender. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m gonna kill you!!!”

“Same old Mac...” sighed Gregory. His smile lasted even as the familiar sound of a gun being loaded came to his ears, and in his most carefree fashion, rested both his hands beneath his head as he stared up at the polluted sky. Like it or not, he was back home.

“The Earth hasn’t changed much...” he remarked to himself as he laid there. A woman came up to him, her long brunette hair braided in a fancy twist. She gave off a knowing smile, and crouched down slightly to examine him. Somehow through her chuckles, she managed to talk.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Gregory let out a long sigh and finally bounced to his feet. Dust and dirt had to be cleaned off his shirt before he could walk around again, but then again, he was on Earth. People wouldn’t mind if he was a little dirty, but she might have.

“Reasonably so,” sighed Greg as he cleaned himself off. “But that Mac’s not a reliable person. He kicked me out before I could gather anything. Did you have any luck?” The woman next to him, his partner Dana Withers, smiled as she crossed her arms.

“Not a thing,” she reported blandly. “Shift, I’m starting to realize why you don’t like this planet. The people here aren’t exactly friendly to foreigners, and it’s dirty and polluted, and most everything costs too much. On the other hand, they have plenty of places where one can lose their sobriety, or their income, or even their purity.

“But other than that,” she concluded wryly, “I don’t know why you’d ever wanna leave this place. Hey, you never told me why you left, anyway!” She smiled coyly, but now it was Greg’s turn to scowl. He turned away from her, hiding the glower on his face.

“You don’t wanna know,” he muttered bitterly. “Trust me--at least on that.” Dana, who was not so insensitive as to prod further into something so obviously delicate, simply decided to shrug and let things be. Gregory eventually shifted out of his dark mood, and followed her as the two of them left the Bright-Star Pub. It may have been a small world, but they had no luck finding anything concerning their next job...

Only a day or two had passed since the two adventurers met up with the alien bounty hunter, Zatore Esgaroth Thorndale--or just “Zet” to those who preferred not calling him by his full name. Like Dana and Greg, Zet was also an adventurer of sorts, but while they were both crude and laid-back, Zet was an extremely sophisticated, polite, and courteous warrior. His skills weren’t diminished in the least because of this, nor was his pride or his spirit.

For reasons he hadn’t revealed yet, Zet was searching for somebody--but unlike Dana, who had been pursuing the infamous criminal Cattia Prepells, Zet was not hunting for justice, but for protection. He only gave vague clues about his mission, but what he did say was rather unbelievable. Zet was looking for a young girl who had formerly been a member of a mysterious group of mages calling themselves the Chiyou. These Chiyou had apparently rejected this young girl from their circle--an action which they normally did not perform.

The girl’s name was Diana, and other than a few minor details, that was all that either of them knew.

“So where do you think Zet is?” asked Greg. Dana shrugged, and let Naja be her eyes when her human ones failed her. The aviaptile flew high up in the air, scouting out for the fair-faced elf, and flapped back down to Dana’s shoulder after only a few seconds in midair. Its tongue tickled her ear; this was their way of “communicating” with each other.

“ ... He says that Zet’s on his way,” said Dana after a pause. “We won’t have to wait long.” Gregory silently nodded his head, folding his arms in silent contemplation...

“Shift? Shift? Excuse me ... Shift...”

“Huh?” Gregory snapped out of his daze, just in time to see both Zet and Dana staring back at him impatiently. The elfish man sighed and shook his head slowly.

“I am sorry to say that you were not responding to anything,” reported Zet in his usual eloquent tone. “Apparently, you phased out of reality for a period. What happened?” Gregory grunted, and slowly ran his hand over his face to clear things up. Just a memory...

“ ... It’s nothing,” he said. “Don’t worry about it. Oh, say, did you find anything?” Zet paused, and pursed his lips together tightly. He only spoke one word.

“No.”

“Big surprise there,” sighed Greg. “Earth has always been like that. You couldn’t find a needle in a needle factory on this planet. Hey, are you sure this Diana chi--I mean, Lady Diana is on this world?”

“Yes,” said Zet with an air of finality, “I am positive. Besides, I would not have dragged either one of you all the way out here if I were not confident of my source.”

“You’ve got a point,” grunted Dana, stretching her weary limbs. She sighed, and rested her hands on her head as a new plan formulated in her head. “Well, we’re not making good progress. At this rate, those wizards you told us about might have found her by now.” Zet made a low growling noise, and his face became darkly twisted in restrained rage. Through clenched teeth, he shared his thoughts.

“I pray that that is not the case,” he hissed. “If it is, then many lives will be lost, on both sides. And if it is not...” He paused just long enough to bring out his deadly cannon, and aimed it at the sky.

“Then we had better hurry.” Gregory mutely nodded his head, and knew that what his two companions were saying was correct. Other than the fact (he hoped it was a fact) that this Diana lady was on Earth, they didn’t know anything else about her, least of all where to look. Inwardly, he cringed as he anticipated both Dana and Zet asking him to lead the way. Out of the trio, he was the only one who had been on Earth long enough to know his way around, so...

“You might as well let me be the leader for now,” he said suddenly. Both adventurers looked his way, but he kept his back turned. “I mean, do any of you know your way around this planet?” A pause.

“No,” came two voices.

“Then you may as well let me be in the lead,” he continued. “I’m the only one who knows this planet well. I’m not gonna like it, but I may as well bite the bullet.”

“Excuse me for asking, but why would you not like roaming around this world?” asked Zet. “Surely this planet cannot be that bad.”

“The planet itself isn’t what bothers me,” said Gregory in a low, calm, dark voice. He didn’t finish his thought; he merely proceeded forward, and let his two allies follow him at their own discretion.

No sooner had they taken a few steps did Greg pause. As he stopped in his tracks, his mood increased significantly, and a bright smile came to his face. All fear of what might have lurked on this mother planet vanished as a cheap neon sign glittered in his eyes.

“Oh, yeah!!!!” he exclaimed. “Fatsy’s!!! I haven’t been here in ages! Guys, come on!”

“What now?” moaned Dana, who was barely trudging along. Greg’s smiling face did nothing to quicken her step.

“Guys, it’s Fatsy’s! I used to come here all the time!! If anybody can help us, it’s gonna be Fatsy! C’mon!!” And without waiting for anybody to react, Gregory rushed inside the poorly-built entertainment facility, leaving both Zet and Dana to stand there in confusion.

“What... ?”

“It is best not to ask questions at this point,” sighed Zet wearily. “Perhaps it would be best for us to inquire inside a facility more familiar to our friend. We may even be able to find extra assistance inside. Come.” Zet quietly followed Greg inside, leaving Dana to roll her eyes.

“Why do I get the feeling that I’m gonna regret this? ... Hold on!!”

The entertainment center known as Fatsy’s was a fairly large place. It was exceptionally dark, though, with few lights to guide thrill-seekers. These few lights were in poor condition as well, so one had to have exceptional vision to see where they were going. The smell of the building was better than the sight, but only by a small fraction. It stank of carpet that hadn’t been washed since the last century, and that was probably the reason why.

Fatsy’s was stuffed with every sort of gambling vice known to man, and to woman, and to nonhuman, and to ... well, it was stuffed. Slot machines were dotted everywhere, and there were roulette wheels and card tables, and games for the rich and games for the poor. Since Fatsy’s was technically a family joint, a small portion of the room had been reserved for people from five to ten, and another from eleven to sixteen. These “special corners” for children were many years in need of an update; Gregory easily recalled playing most of the very same ones in his own youth.

Fatsy himself was not around, however, which made Greg disappointed. His replacement was, ironically, a very thin and wiry man who was always looking down at people, despite their height. All three travelers ignored him, and concentrated on trying to pick up whatever pieces of information everyone else had. Since this was a gambling resort, sort of, most people had no clues about Diana.

Greg made a show of sighing as he blew his light-brown hair out of his eyes. He didn’t recognize anybody; whether that was a good sign or not was indeterminate. He was about to call it quits when he heard a very familiar curse, followed by a laugh he would never have forgotten.

“Doggone it! I can’t win here!”

“EH hehehehehehhhh! Don’ worry, mebbe tomorrow you have better luck, eh?” Greg allowed a smile to come to his mouth as a defeated blackjack player shuffled away from a table, looking about as despondent as a man could become. It was clear that he had lost a lot of money, and unless Greg was wrong, he had lost it to a very familiar individual...

With one spot open on the table now, Greg pulled up a chair and invited himself in. The dealer partially ignored him as he handed the obligatory two cards, and Greg took count of his hand as he sat. Six and five ... he was safe no matter what the dealer gave him. A familiar growl-laugh bubbled up from the table, and all players save Gregory grew nervous. The last time that harsh chuckle had played out, one man lost 5,200 units of money.

“Hit me,” said Gregory, and he received another card--seven of spades. That made his hand eighteen. Most people would have quit then, and on a normal circumstance, Greg would too. But the ever-present smile of a certain gambler amongst them prodded him to go forward, and the dealer lazily handed the shifty Rodriguez a card that would make or break his fortune.

Gregory silently kept his smile as his eyes kissed the three of diamonds.

“Stay,” he said, and soon every other player in the pack kept their hand as well. The dealer asked them to show all cards, and most people moaned as they laid their hands down.

“Seventeen.”

“Twenty-two. Busted...”

“Fourteen.”

“Nineteen.”

“Ha!!” chortled one of the gamblers. His hand slapped down four cards, and his toothy grin boasted when his words failed him. “Read em’ and weep, eh! A straight twenty-one, howdoyalike that?” The gambler began chuckling, and he would have laughed all night if Gregory hadn’t laid his hand down as well.

“Oh, imagine that!” he sang. “I have a twenty-one as well!” The young boy smiled smugly, and looked into the puny face of his adversary. Said opponent cursed as the dealer declared a tie, but his angry face faded instantly as he recognized the boy across from him.

“ ... Sheeft?” His accent was alien, and so was his build. The creature was incredibly tiny, easy as tall as Gregory’s foot was long, and looked something like a little demon. His two hands each bore three fingers with a claw atop each, and his feet had only two toes to match the heel. He had huge golden wings sprouting out of his back, and three great scars across his otherwise miniscule chest. This creature may have been tiny, but he was certainly no pushover: he was as strong as he was small.

“ ... Sheeft?” asked the creature again, and Greg nodded his head enthusiastically.

“Yeah!!! I’m surprised you remembered me! It’s been ages!!!” The creature paused once more to ascertain Greg’s presence, and his small face lit up brightly as his brain finally registered the boy’s memory.