Storiesonline.net
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                            Crossroads Rules
                            by Lazlo Zalezac

Copyright© 2005 by Lazlo Zalezac


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Description: Life gets interesting for Sid when he discovers what it means to be a hero according to the rules of Crossroads. 

Codes: MF ScFi rom
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Copyright© Lazlo Zalezac, 2005

I'd like to thank Drahkan for editing this story.

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Chapter 1



Cynthia Johnson eased into her seat hoping to be noticed, but terrified of becoming the center of attention. Her shoulder length sandy hair, complete with bangs that nearly covered her eyes, was cut to blend in with the hair styles worn by hundreds of other coeds on campus. She wore simple clothes, plain blue jeans that weren't tight and a slightly overlarge sweatshirt. Everything about her was selected to look average. Shy by nature and plain by intent, she managed to disappear into the background.

From her seat in the back corner of the room, she watched the door waiting for 'Him' to arrive. Even in her thoughts, there were quotes around the word him. As far as she was concerned, Sid was the sexiest man she had ever seen. His military posture conveyed a manliness that took her breath away. His Mediterranean features and excellent physique caused a reaction between her legs that spoke of sexual desire. When he answered a question in his intense manner, she wanted to faint.

It was easy to tell when Sid entered the classroom. The other women in the class raced to the desks around the one where he normally sat. Almost as one, they all turned their heads to watch him move through the room. Cynthia lowered her head as if to examine her desktop. From the corner of her eye, she watched him enter and take a seat. Her heart raced at the sight of him, but she cursed her shyness. This was as close as she was going to get to him.

Sid looked around the room and examined the women crowded around his desk. There were fewer women fighting for seats near his than a week ago. Apparently, a number of his admirers didn't appreciate his description of his ideal woman. At least the ones sitting near him were not showing off their navels with metal piercings. He sighed and thought of Sally Caretaker. Three more weeks before he could see her again.

Professor Susan Smith entered the classroom carrying a stack of papers and stood in front of the class for a moment. Rather than call the role, she handed out the papers without saying a word. Sid accepted his paper and stared at it. There was a grade of A-plus and a single comment written across the top, 'I completely disagree with your conclusion.' Puzzled, he watched her hand out the rest of the papers wondering why she disagreed with him. Sid focused on the lecture putting the strange comment out of his mind.

The class passed quickly and without incident. The lecture covered the topic of the paper, contrasting the Wife of Bath with Queen Guinevere of King Arthur fame. She made all the same points in her lecture that he had made in his paper. After making the next assignment, she dismissed class.

Sid waited for the classroom to clear before stepping over to the desk. Standing at parade rest, he looked at the instructor and asked, "Was there a problem with my paper, Professor Smith?"

"I had a question about it," replied the woman as she studied her favorite student. His paper was the best she had ever received from a student, but she was confused by his conclusion. It was the first time one of her students had argued that Guinevere was a total failure as a wife. Very puzzled, she looked up at him and asked, "Was Guinevere really that bad of a woman?"

"Of course," answered Sid as though shocked that someone could argue otherwise.

"Why?"

"She failed her duties and responsibilities as wife and queen," replied Sid surprised that she didn't understand why he answered in the manner that he had. He added, "She was the reason Camelot fell."

Professor Smith sat back and thought about his answer. It had the kind of absolute judgment about duty and honor she had come to expect from the young man. She asked, "What about her love for Sir Lancelot?"

"What about it? She should have sought out an alternative solution to her love that wouldn't bring down the kingdom," answered Sid.

"She had no choice," replied Professor Smith. Changing tactics, she asked, "What about Lancelot?"

"He was just as derelict in his duty to king and country," answered Sid with his back straight and jaw thrust forward. The idea of the knight undermining the authority of his king by putting him in a position of cuckold was far more repugnant than he could express. In many ways, he blamed Lancelot for his actions more than he blamed Guinevere.

"They were driven to their actions by love. They had no choice."

"There is always a choice," answered Sid. The behaviorists talked about fight or flight as the two fundamental choices of all animals when faced with danger. Humans with their desire for perfect solutions often forgot that the majority of solutions to problems were imperfect. An imperfect solution was not necessarily an unacceptable solution and an acceptable choice did not necessarily mean happiness.

"You believe that?"

"It's the sixth fact of life," replied Sid with a curt nod.

"Name one choice that she had," charged Professor Smith expecting him to name the trivial choice of doing nothing about her love for Sir Lancelot.

Sid was silent as he considered the number of choices that she had. Finally, he said, "She could have told Arthur of her desires. He loved Sir Lancelot and would not have stood in their way. He might even have invited Sir Lancelot to share their bed."

His answer surprised Professor Susan Smith. She did not think that Sid was the type who would think that a reasonable solution. She asked, "Are you saying that they could have had a threesome?"

"Why not?"

"And you would have a better opinion of Guinevere if she had done that?" asked Susan.

"Of course. All three of them could have upheld their duties and responsibilities to each other and the kingdom," answered Sid. With a smile as he thought about his answer in context of the story, he said, "Of course, it would have been a very different kind of story."

She thought for a moment about his previous answer. Earlier in the semester, he had stated the first and second facts of life. Now, he had stated what he called the sixth fact of life. Curious about what might be the third fact of life, she asked, "What's the third fact of life?"

"Physics rules the universe and biology rules life," answered Sid.

Wondering where he had gotten his facts of life, Professor Susan Smith chose not to pursue the topic. She decided it would be a better topic for another time. Instead, she said, "Thank you."

Professor Susan Smith watched Sid leave the classroom with interest. Once he was gone, she opened her notebook and wrote down his facts of life. He was the first individual whom she had met who viewed the facts of life as something more than a lecture about the birds and bees. The semester wasn't even half over and she was contemplating inviting a student to her house.

After leaving his English class, Sid went to his American History I class. For the first time, he went into the class anticipating the lecture rather than viewing it as a necessary duty that had to be performed. His single experience in Chaos had given him a much deeper appreciation of a subject that had been a burdensome requirement.

He listened to the subject matter with a new perspective, namely one that focused on how people worked and lived. The mention of pottery reminded him of the clay field that he had seen worked while in Chaos. He wondered if he had made a mistake by taking American History I rather than World History I. The latter course covered an earlier period of human history and probably dealt with technologies closer to Chaos than the former.

After his history class ended, Sid went to the student center to eat lunch before he was to work in the library. Grabbing a burger and fries, he went over to a table and sat down. Opening his notebook, he read his notes from class while eating. He had been assigned another paper in history and he considered what would be necessary to address the assigned topic.

Concentrating on his notes while absently eating his fries, he was not immediately aware that he had company at his table. His visitor, Cynthia Johnson, couldn't believe that she had actually gathered the necessary courage to sit down at the table with him. This was so unlike anything she had ever done in her entire life. Summoning the last of her courage, she said, "Excuse me."

Surprised to learn that he had a dining companion, Sid looked up at the plain woman. His eyes flicked over her face, down to her body, and back to her face without recognizing her. He couldn't help but wonder what she could possibly want from him. In as polite of a voice as he could muster, he said, "Hello."

"I want to be like her," stammered Cynthia, the words tumbling out of her mouth. She couldn't believe that she had actually managed to get the whole sentence out. At his confused expression that crossed his face, her cheeks turned red. In an attempt to clarify what she was talking about, she added, "You know, her, the one you told us about in class."

Still not sure what she was talking about, he cautiously replied, "Okay. I'm glad to hear that. What is it that you want of me?"

"I want you to teach me how to be like that perfect woman," said Cynthia in a very soft voice. She had reached the end of her courage and looked around the student center for a second preparing to flee the table.

"I don't know if I can," replied Sid surprised by the request once he realized what she was asking of him. His eyes flicked over her trying to imagine the plain woman dressed and acting like Sally. She would never be the same as Sally, but there was potential present in the woman.

"If you can't, then maybe she can," countered Cynthia.

"I don't think that is possible," said Sid thinking about the possibility of taking the woman to Crossroads. He wondered if he had been unwise in describing Sally Caretaker to the class. He recalled the gossip about his uncle and his references to Elizabeth.

The idea that Sid thought it was impossible for her to become like his ideal woman was crushing for poor Cynthia. At the thought of how he must view her, a sudden flood of tears filled her eyes. Deciding that she had made enough of a fool of herself, Cynthia stood and fled the room leaving behind a very startled Sid Jones.

Sid had no idea that his reply to her request to have Sally help her had been misinterpreted. Her sudden flight forced Sid to consider how difficult it had been for her to approach him. He understood that she was shy. She was, in her own way, a damsel in distress. Her plight touched his heroic side and he wondered what he could do about it.

As Sid sat eating the rest of his meal, he wondered about the rules concerning Crossroads and if they were as restrictive as Sally had told him. Then he realized that he didn't really know the rules of Crossroads. There were a lot of things that he didn't know. Why were the women so willing to risk their lives on Chaos? Why had Jennifer and Sally been so happy about the pregnancy? Why had Jennifer had to leave so suddenly? Thinking about it, he realized that the next visit was going to be spent getting answers to his questions about Crossroads.

Sid returned home from school and wandered around the house feeling frustrated by his thoughts about Crossroads and Chaos. Entering the study, he recalled the notebook that had been in the safe with the letter instructing him how to enter the portal. Curious about the information contained within it, he went to the safe and removed the notebook.

Sitting down at the desk, he proceeded to examine the journal very carefully. It appeared as if it had been constructed from three different notebooks that were bound together to form the journal. Each part utilized a different texture paper with different distances between the lines. In a few places, pages had been ripped out as though his uncle had chosen to destroy them rather than allow others to read what he had written.

The first part of the journal described how Gerald had been engaged in a brutal firefight with Japanese soldiers on Kwajalein Island and how he had killed a particularly brave man. The man had gone down protecting his fellow soldiers in a desperate last stand at the naval base. On searching the body, Gerald had found a diary and, deciding that he wanted to know more about the brave fellow, had kept it. It took him a year to decipher the writing, but what he discovered had amazed him. Inside the diary were detailed instructions on how to create a portal to another world.

The instructions for creating the portal were deceptively simple. On a doorframe of glass of sufficient size to step through, the builder was to place thin films of various metals electronically isolated from each other. The layers were to be of gold, aluminum, tin, platinum, copper, and zinc in that order with a final layer to be made of electrum. According to the diary, passing through the frame with a blue sapphire of sufficient size would send a signal through the ether to the machinery of a distant planet. The machinery would cause the immediate transferal of the individual passing through the frame to the distant planet.

The instructions were sketchy and lacked a scientific explanation of how it worked. The journal did say that the frame of glass could be mounted inside of an appropriate cover to be hidden from view. Curious, Sid went to the closet door and examined the entry to the closet carefully. From what he could see, it was clear that Gerald must have put the glass frame inside the doorframe.

The middle part of the journal described a set of experiments that Gerald had performed in trying to transport things with him to Crossroads. All of his attempts to take weapons across the portal failed with Gerald ending up in Crossroads and, as he discovered on his return, the weapons remaining on the floor of the closet. He had been able to take his clothes and papers, but nothing mechanical or electrical in nature. Sid did notice that his uncle had never tried to take another person through the portal with him.

In reading the journal, Sid was surprised to learn that there had been occasions when Gerald had not been able to go through the portal. Most of these occasions were when he was ill or became ill within a few days of the attempt. This convinced him that the original inhabitants of Crossroads had put in a failsafe to prevent the spread of diseases across the planets. The other time had been after Gerald took a prescription with the side effect of erectile dysfunction. When his ability to perform sexually had returned, he was allowed through the portal without a problem.

There was also a warning that attempting to stay in Crossroads would have very nasty consequences. Gerald described how trying to stay even a few minutes after the damsel had left had resulted in difficulty breathing, headaches, nausea, and cramps. Staying more than five minutes was too long. On one occasion, Elizabeth had to push him through the portal because he was unable to make his way on his own.

Sid had not been aware of the need to leave so quickly on his last visit. He had left feeling a little unsettled at how abruptly Sally had sent him on his way. The realization that it was a rule of Crossroads rather than a desire on her part was very comforting. It confirmed his belief that the relationship developing between them was more than just a passing thing.

The last part of the journal described Gerald's relationship with Elizabeth Caretaker. In true character of the old man, there were no hints of sex in the description -- other a few cryptic remarks that he had become close to Elizabeth in the manner of man and wife. There had been numerous pages torn out of this part of the journal. Of particular interest to Sid were a few reports of arguments between Gerald and Elizabeth.

The first argument that caught his interest concerned the first return visit after Gerald learned that he had made one of the damsels pregnant. The circumstances in which Gerald had learned of the pregnancy were almost identical to those in which Sid had found himself -- a quick exit by the young lady in question after dropping the news followed by a quick exit from Crossroads for Gerald.

Sid read how Gerald had returned to Crossroads determined to marry the damsel and raise the child. He saw it as a matter of honor for him to take responsibility for his actions. Elizabeth Caretaker had refused to allow him any contact with the damsel. Without her cooperation, there was nothing that he could do. He had been shocked by the sudden appearance of jealousy, particularly in light of the effort that she had taken for him to have sex with the damsel.

Over the first few visits, there had been many arguments of that nature. It was later in the journal when Gerald speculated that he had made every damsel pregnant. He decided it was the reason that the women of Cassandra participated in the game. Sid considered that information along with the fact that Sally and Jennifer had both commented on how different men from Earth and Cassandra were in bed. He wondered if the men in Cassandra were unable to ejaculate. That might mean that the women were so desperate for the chance to be mothers that they would accept a total stranger to father the child.

Sitting back in his chair, Sid stopped reading and thought about what it meant to be a sperm donor. He didn't mind the thought that he might be viewed as genetically superior to the men of Cassandra, but he did want his role to be placed in a more honest context. If he was a sperm donor, then what was the point of the game? Then it dawned on him - the whole point of the game was to assure that he was genetically superior in terms of survival and character.

He closed the journal and returned it to the safe deciding that he was going to have to think about the matter for a while. He had learned much, but didn't understand everything he had read. The information put his relationship with Sally and the damsels in a totally different light.

Thinking about relationships reminded him of the woman who had sat at his table earlier that day. He didn't even know her name, but her plea for help touched him. For a long time he sat at the desk wondering what he could do for her.

Sid waited for the young woman after his English class with a note in his hand. It seemed to him that she was taking forever to collect her books and leave the classroom. He hadn't noticed her in the past and wondered if her dawdling was normal. If so, he wasn't impressed. As was the case when he had first met her, she was dressed in baggy clothes that hid her body. Looking over her attire, he wasn't impressed.

Embarrassed by her actions in approaching him and hurt by his comment that she was hopeless, Cynthia hung back in the classroom. She waited for him to leave so she wouldn't have to face him, but he continued to wait at the door. Firmly convinced he was waiting to make fun of her, she hoped that by moving fast enough that he wouldn't have a chance to mock her as she passed. Scared, she gathered her nerve and, hugging her books to her chest as if they were armor, she rushed towards the door.

Blocking the door in an attempt to force her to stop, Sid said, "Excuse me. I have thought about your request and would like to discuss it with you further."

Cynthia stopped in her tracks wondering if he was actually going to help her become like the woman he had described. She had been so prepared to hear a nasty comment that it took a minute to for it filter through her mind that he wanted to talk with her. Her face turned red upon realizing that she had misjudged him. Embarrassing her further, her voice squeaked when she asked, "Can you help me?"

"I am not sure if I can help, but I would like to try," answered Sid with a serious expression on his face.

A student tapped him on the shoulder to request he move out of the way. Sid stepped out of the room and into the hallway. Cynthia followed, keeping her distance out of fear of public humiliation. As the student stepped around them to get into the classroom, Sid added, "I think we should talk about it in a less public place."

"Okay," she replied relieved that he wasn't making fun of her, but wondering what he wanted from her for his help. She bit her lip and looked into his eyes -- seeking and finding compassion.

Handing her the slip of paper he had been holding throughout the discussion, he said, "Here's my address and phone number. Call me and maybe we can meet Saturday."

Her heart beat strongly as she stared at the sheet of paper and mumbled, "Okay."

Glancing at his wristwatch, he said, "Sorry, I have to go to my history class."

"Sure," she replied as she continued to stare at the sheet of paper. She couldn't believe he had given her his address and telephone number. Although she would never admit it aloud, it was her greatest hope that he might be interested in having a relationship with her. A student sliding around her made her realize she was partially blocking access to the door. She looked around the hall to discover that Sid had left.

Sid set a platter with pastries from a local baker on the table with care. Gerald had always said that a proper soldier should understand and practice etiquette. The art of graceful living was as important to winning a war as martial abilities. Treating a person with good manners and the appropriate respect could turn a potential enemy into a friend. Stepping back, he examined his work with a critical eye and decided the table setting was perfect.

A soft knock on the door that he could barely hear let him know that his guest had finally worked up the courage to come to the front door. He had seen her park her car in the street ten minutes earlier. Stepping out of the dining room, he walked briskly to the front door afraid that any delay would cause her to flee. Opening it, he smiled and greeted the young woman standing at the door. "Hello, Cynthia. You're right on time."

"I didn't want to be late," she replied.

Stepping back, Sid waved an arm in a gesture of invitation and said, "Come in and welcome my home."

Nervous, Cynthia took a few tentative steps into the house. She almost jumped when she heard the door shut behind her. Looking around, she said, "Your parents have a lovely house."

He smiled at the assumption that he lived with his parents. There was no way that he would bring a guest into his parent's house, but there was no way for her to know that. Sid replied, "This is my uncle's house. He left it to me in his will."

"Oh," said Cynthia. She wanted to hit herself in the head, but refrained from making the gesture. It seemed that every time she said something that it was wrong. She hadn't even known that his uncle had passed away.

"Please come into the dining room. I have prepared a small snack for us to eat while we talk," invited Sid in his rich warm voice that sent shivers through the young woman.

She protested, "You didn't need to go to all of that trouble for me."

"Nonsense. It is a pleasure to entertain," said Sid. He turned and extended an arm to take her into the dining room. Seeing that she didn't know enough to accept it, he dropped his arm before gesturing towards the entry. He led the way into the dining room.

Entering the dining room, Cynthia gasped in amazement. The table was polished to the point where it shined. Woods that she didn't recognize were inlaid in a rich intricate pattern. Once she lifted her eyes from the surface of the table, the first thing she noticed was a small vase with a single white carnation. She turned her attention to the end of the table. On opposite sides of the table were lace place mats. The china plate, saucer, and cup, placed with precision on the place mat, were of outstanding quality. Between the place mats was another piece of lace upon which there was a plate of pastries.

Cynthia was stunned that this military looking man was able to set such a nice table. Almost afraid to touch anything, she said, "It's beautiful."

Sid went over to a chair and pulled it out for her. Nodding to it, he said, "Please have a seat."

In her entire nineteen years of life, Cynthia had never had a man pull out a chair for her. Her face flushed red in fear of making a fool out of herself. She walked over to the chair and sat down with as much care as she could manage. Sid pushed the chair so that she was seated the proper distance from the table. Blushing, Cynthia said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Would you prefer tea or coffee?" asked Sid as he moved to the end of the table where she could see him.

"Whichever is fine with me," she replied wondering which would be the proper answer.

Since he had expected that answer, he had a pot of coffee already prepared. Smiling, he said, "Excuse me for a minute."

"Okay," replied Cynthia feeling as if she was behaving like an ill- mannered clod. Ever since entering the house, it had become very clear to her that she didn't know how to behave in polite society. She decided that it had been a stupid idea to ask him to help her become a woman like the one he had described in class.

As Sid filled a small coffeepot with coffee, he thought about the young woman in the other room. It was clear that his attempts to make her comfortable were not working. There was so much that she didn't know and it seemed as if every action exposed her ignorance that much more. Yet the reason for her presence in the house that day was to learn how to look and act like a lady of grace.

He carried a tray with the small china coffeepot into the dining room. Also on the tray were a sugar bowl and a small cream pitcher. Placing the items on the tray upon the table, he set the tray on a sideboard. Cynthia watched his every move, mentally taking notes on what he did and how he did it. Smiling at her, he took the seat across from her. He had learned her name when she had called to set up a time for a visit, but that had been a brief, 'Hello, this is Cynthia.' After settling into his chair, he said, "I fear that we have never been properly introduced. I'm Sid Jones."

"Oh... Ah... I'm Cynthia Johnson," she stammered.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Johnson," Sid said.

"Ah... Same here," she replied.

Picking up the coffeepot, Sid said, "Could you hand me your cup?"

"Sure." She picked up the cup and held it out for him.

He smiled at the fact that she had picked up only the cup rather than the saucer with the cup on it. Gently, he corrected her, "On the saucer, please."

Almost dropping the cup, she realized what he meant. Placing the cup upon the saucer, she picked up the saucer and held it out to him. When he grasped the saucer, he said, "Thank you."

She released the saucer and watched as he filled the cup with coffee. Once he had finished, he handed it back to her. She accepted it without saying thank you. Pulling the saucer from his hands led to a minor spill. An exasperated expression crossed her face as she realized why he had the thanked her earlier. It was a phrase used to let the other know when you had control of the saucer. She apologized, "I'm sorry for spilling the coffee."

"No apology is needed. That is what the saucer is for," explained Sid. Diverting attention from the most recent embarrassment, Sid said, "In the past, it was expected that the host would add the cream and sugar for the guest. Today, that tradition is not kept with the same rigor. I hope that you don't mind my adoption of the more modern practice."

"Oh... Ah... I don't mind."

Sid picked up the plate with pastries and finger cakes as he asked, "Would you care for a pastry or cake?"

She picked up a couple of finger cakes and set them on her plate. Once she had been served, Sid prepared a cup of coffee for himself and took a pastry. He took a sip of his coffee and then said, "I have given some thought to your request."

The sudden reminder of why she was there jarred Cynthia. She squeaked, "What have you decided?"

"There are three areas where you need help the most," replied Sid wondering how to tell her what he had observed about her.

"Three?" asked Cynthia thinking it was just a matter of dress.

"First, you need to change your wardrobe," said Sid as he looked at the loose sweatshirt and blue jeans she wore. Licking his lips, he offered, "I can help you with that."

"Okay."

"Second, you need to take Etiquette lessons. Mrs. Wilson, a very nice lady of the old school, has agreed to provide them to you. She gave me etiquette lessons when I was twelve. It will cost you nothing."

"Really? Why would she do that?" asked Cynthia wondering if she really knew what etiquette entailed.

Sid smiled as he recalled how Mrs. Wilson had reacted when he had asked her if she would be willing to give lessons to a young woman. The grand old lady had told him how much she would love to do that. She explained how she was afraid that manners were becoming extinct like the dodo bird -- hunted down by radical feminists who hated men.

He answered, "She wants to pass her knowledge on to a young woman before that knowledge is lost for good."

"Oh."

"She would appreciate it if you would come over the next three Saturdays. I must warn you that she will expect you to arrive at nine in the morning and stay until late in the evening."

Deep in thought, Cynthia picked up a cake, put the whole thing in her mouth, chewed a few times, and then washed it down with her coffee. Watching her, Sid decided that she definitely needed to go to Mrs. Wilson. When she set her cup down, Sid noticed that it was empty. He asked, "Would you care for some more coffee?"

"Sure," she replied.

After going through the process of refilling her cup, Sid said, "The third thing that we have to work on is your self image. A new wardrobe and the etiquette lessons will be a tremendous help in that area, but you still need to become comfortable with who and what you are."

"Oh," said Cynthia in a very flat tone of voice. Her wild idea of turning herself into something that would be attractive to him had turned into a little more work than she had intended.



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Chapter 2



Sid stepped through the portal and gazed upon the loveliness that was Sally Caretaker. It was hard to believe that she looked even lovelier since his last visit. All thoughts and questions Sid had wanted to ask flew from his mind to be replaced by desire for this woman. He moved to her like a man possessed.

Sally's smile could have lit the night brighter than a full moon. Her translucent green gown hinted at the treasures it contained. It captivated him and drew his eyes to seek out glimpses of her breasts. Her long legs, spread slightly, formed an arrow that pointed to her sex.

When he reached her, she took his hand. Her body undulated as she led him to the bedroom. The grace of her movements captivated him. Unable to take his eyes from her, Sid followed without being aware that he was even moving.

Upon reaching the bedroom, Sally released his hand and turned to face him so that he would have a perfect view of her unveiling. When she went to remove her gown, Sid took her hand and requested, "Allow me do that."

Surprised he would want to undress her, she replied, "I would be most pleased."

It took a minute for Sid to locate the strap holding up the gown. Releasing the knot, the gown slid to the ground. The diaphanous material was so smooth that it flowed over her skin and slipped though his fingers. There was no way for him to slow its passage to the floor, but the effect was more erotic than what he had planned. It took his breath away.

Sid stepped back and worshipped her body with his eyes. His fingers trembled at the thought of touching her bare skin. For a moment, it seemed to him that touching her would be a sacrilege. In a whisper, he said, "So beautiful. So perfect."

Once she was standing naked before him, Sally slowly undressed Sid. She took her time. She kissed his body as she removed each garment. Never had a woman paid such attention to his body. Sid discovered that he enjoyed the sensations far more than he would have expected.

When he was naked, she knelt in front of him and took his erection in her hands. She had never sucked a man's cock. In Cassandra, it was a wasted action since the man would come almost immediately and wouldn't be ready for sex for another day. She had been told that sex with a man from Earth would be far different than any other sexual experience. His last visit demonstrated that beyond a shadow of a doubt. She realized that Elizabeth Caretaker was correct in saying it required her to learn new skills.

When she took hold of his cock, Sid had wanted to stop her. His intention had been to take care of her needs first, but his desire for her had become so strong that he could not resist her. Thinking about it, he decided that taking the edge off his desire would allow him to better take care of her needs. Rather than resist, he relaxed so that he could enjoy her attentions.

Sally examined the rigid shaft remembering the advice of Elizabeth Caretaker. She slipped his cock into her warm mouth as she had practiced upon the dildo. The feel and heat of his cock gave her pleasure she hadn't known was possible. The scent of an excited man filled her nose awaking a sexual response within her.

For Sid, the unexpected feel of her mouth around his manhood sent a bolt of electricity racing along his spine. His world shrunk to that part of his body as sensations beyond description flooded through his body. She flicked her tongue over the sensitive areas of his cock as she sucked. Her right hand stroked the shaft while her left hand was busy gently caressing his balls. Legs shaking, he said, "I'm going to come."

She looked up at him and kept his cock within her mouth. He held his breath, hoping to postpone his orgasm until she pulled off his cock. Looking down at her, he saw she was not going to back off. With a groan, he came in her mouth.

Elizabeth had told her that the amount of fluid released would be small, but that her mouth would be filled with cock. She had been warned that it would be hard to keep his fluids in her mouth without backing off the cock. Sally followed the advice of the far more experienced woman and captured all of his come. Looking up at him, she swallowed his seed trying to decide if she liked the flavor.

Sid helped her rise from her knees and pulled her into an embrace. He kissed her with desire. The slight taste of his come was detectable from her mouth. Gesturing to the bed, he said, "It is your turn."

Once she was comfortable on the bed, Sid began his assault upon her body. It wasn't an assault of strength or domination, but a focused concentrated attention to each and every inch of her skin. He took his time. Starting at her forehead, he worked his way down to her toes over the course of an hour. When her front had been covered, he turned her over and gave attention to her back. Light kisses, passionate flicks of his tongue, and little love bites rained continuously upon her sensitive skin.

Easy to excite and bring to climax, Sally was quickly brought to an orgasm. Rather than a quick crescendo, she rode a wave of pleasure that lasted throughout the time he worshipped her body. When he settled between her legs, the wave of pleasure turned into a tidal wave. She lay upon the bed, her entire body quivering in time to the mystic beat of an ocean of sexual pleasure.

After bringing her to heights she did not believe possible, Sid backed off and returned to an incremental adoration of her body. Rather than relaxing, Sally stayed at a constant level of excitement. Sweat soaked the sheets. Fluids seeped from her pussy, coating her legs and buttocks. Her excitement announced itself as a pungent scent that filled the air.

After another hour, Sid stopped his caresses and mounted her. Changing the speed and strength of his thrusts, he was able to postpone his orgasm far longer than he thought possible. The changes had the opposite effect upon Sally. The teasing only brought her to higher levels of pleasure. Like a giant bass drum being struck, huge orgasms beat through her body. Like clockwork, one minute apart, her back arched. Muscles tightened in a reaction that made her look as if she had been struck by lightning.

When Sid came, a tidal wave washed through him draining all of the energy from his body. Her eyes flicked open once and then shut as her mind was forced to retreat from the overwhelming pleasure it had just experienced. Exhausted beyond description, he climbed off her and lay beside her still trembling body.

Unwilling to sleep, Sid turned to his side to watch the beautiful woman recover from the experience. Even after ten minutes, her body would tense as if another orgasm was ripping through her body. The sight fascinated him and reinforced his belief that she was something special. When the tremors would start to subside, he would run a hand over her sensitive skin returning it to that same excited state.

Unable to fight off his exhaustion, Sid fell asleep with the sleep that came after sex well done. It was hours later when he woke to find Sally sitting beside him. She was watching him with a dreamy look upon her face. Deep in her heart, she knew there was nothing she could deny him. Throat dry, he croaked, "You are so beautiful."

She ran a finger along his jaw with the tender touch. Even touching him brought a thrill to her body. In a soft voice, she said, "Restorative please."

A tall thin glass filled with a green fluid appeared on the nightstand. The glass itself didn't look to be wider than a test tube, although the base was large enough to provide a stable support for it. She reached out with a delicate gesture and took it. Handing it to Sid, she said, "Drink this. It will help restore your energy."

Smelling the liquid, Sid was puzzled by the odor. He didn't recognize it and couldn't even begin to describe it. It was as though every scent he had ever smelled was jumbled together. Upon taking a sip, an explosion of flavors burst through his mouth and energy flooded into his body. He sat up straighter and looked at the glass in amazement. The little sip had emptied half the glass. He finished the glass with a second sip.

Feeling much better, he smiled at Sally and, in a clear voice, asked, "What would I do without you to take care of me?"

"A better question is what I would do without you," replied Sally. The pleasure he had given her had overwhelmed her and destroyed all ability to resist him. She remained naked because she had to remain undressed. Her attempt to dress while he had been asleep had triggered sexual responses that nearly overwhelmed her. Curious, she said, "I've never taken a man in my mouth before. Did I do it right?"

"You were outstanding," answered Sid recalling with pleasure the sensations that she had induced in his body.

"What did you do to me?" she asked.

"I made love to you in the manner I've always wanted," answered Sid. He reached out and brushed the back of his hand along the side of her face. Her whole body reacted to his touch. Her nipples stuck out, her pussy released a flood of liquid, and her stomach rippled. Seeing the sudden change in expression on her face, he feared that his hand had been too rough for her delicate skin. Concerned, he asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I think I just came," she replied unsure exactly what had happened to her. It was as though every nerve of her body was poised on the edge of ecstasy. Sid smiled at the idea that his attentions had left her in that state. He reached out to touch her again, but she backed away. Almost pleading, she said, "I don't know if I can take more."

"I understand," he said, although in truth he didn't understand.

Feeling as though she needed to be busy doing something, she decided that it was time to undertake some of her other duties. First she would bathe and then feed him. Standing, she said, "Robe."

A robe appeared at the foot of the bed. Reaching down, she picked it up and held it out for him to step into. With a smile, she said, "Let us wash ourselves and then eat."

Sid put on the robe, being helped into it by Sally. He thanked her, "You take such excellent care of me. I'm the luckiest man in four worlds."

She stared at him unable to believe his words. If he was the luckiest man in four worlds, then she was the luckiest person in four worlds. Never had a woman of Cassandra been blessed with such a skilled lover. Softly, she said, "Let us go."

Sally bathed Sid and brought him to another orgasm using another trick taught her by Elizabeth Caretaker. She had done so by standing behind him and jacking him off with her right hand. Throughout the bath, she had tried to keep her distance from him out of fear that she would collapse with even the most causal touch. The problem was that she had no will left with which to resist him. At the first suggestion, she gave in and allowed him to wash her body. Each touch of his hand raised echoes of the pleasure that she had experienced earlier in bed. By the time he had finished washing her, she was nearly exhausted from a dozen orgasms and the effort to keep standing.

Over dinner, Sid remembered the questions that he wanted to ask of Sally. He slowly chewed a piece of steak as he considered how to explain his suspicions that his role in the game was as a sperm donor to the women of Cassandra. After taking a sip of his wine, Sid said, "While I was at home, I gave a lot of thought to what happened last time I was here. I came to the conclusion that I don't quite understand the rules of the game. Can you explain them to me?"

She had dreaded this conversation ever since she chased him through the portal at the end of his last visit to Crossroads. Looking over at Sid, Sally put down her fork and pushed away her salad. Her appetite had disappeared remembering how Elizabeth Caretaker had described the arguments with Gerald upon his learning that he had fathered a child.

She considered his request, realizing that she didn't really know how to answer him. There were a few things she knew held true, but there were situations that cropped up on occasion that surprised the caretakers. She said, "I don't think I can. We don't really know all the rules, just little things that work and some that don't work."

"So request a rule book," suggested Sid, recalling what happened when he requested a user's manual for the apartment. He had been given a very thin volume instructing him to ask his caretaker to attend to his needs. When she had requested a user's manual, she had received three of them.

"Uh, I don't think there is one," replied Sally surprised by the recommendation.

Shrugging his shoulders, Sid said, "You didn't know that there was a user's manual, but there was one."

Sally thought about it for a moment and then called out, "Rule book please."

Instead of a rulebook, a sheet of paper appeared on the table in front of her. Expecting it to say that there was no rulebook, she was surprised to discover that it was a list of rulebooks.

"What is it?"

She announced, "It's a list of rule books."

"A list?"

She read the list aloud, "Rules for Hero Greeters. Rules for Caretakers. Rules for Heroes. Rules for Hero Companions. Rules for Damsels. Rules for Companion Greeters."

Sid listened to the list with surprise. One item attracted his attention and he wondered what a hero companion was. However, for the moment he was far more curious about the rules for heroes. Excited, he said, "I'd like the rules for heroes."

Smiling, Sally said, "Rules for Heroes, Rules for Caretakers, and Rules for Damsels, please."

Three small pamphlets appeared on the table in front of Sally. She looked through the stack before handing the appropriate one to Sid. She put one down and sat back to read the third. Sid looked at the manual and then at the half-eaten steak still on his plate. Pushing the manual to the side, he returned to his meal. There was no way that he was going to let a perfectly good steak get thrown away. He watched as Sally read her pamphlet with great care.

After finishing his meal, he picked up the pamphlet and started to read. The first two rules were quite explicit concerning the role of the hero. The hero was required to be ready, willing, and able to fulfill the primary and secondary goals of the heroic mission: to rescue the damsel from her distress in Chaos and to impregnate her upon return to Crossroads. The secondary goal let him know that he had been correct in his earlier guess.

There were a few surprises within the rules. A few of them he would have broken if he hadn't had this chance to learn about them. Looking up, he said, "It says here that I'm not allowed to kill a protected species or harm an endangered species."

Sally looked up from her rulebook in surprise. No one had ever suggested that there were limits to what a hero could do to the source of danger when rescuing a damsel. All that was required of the Hero was to behave in a heroic fashion. She asked, "What species are protected and which are endangered?"

"Says here that mermaids, mermen, dragons, trolls, pixies, brownies, and hippogriffs are protected. Unicorns, fairies, will-o- the-wisps, and sphinxes are endangered."

"Ah, that explains a lot. That is why no hero has been able to go on a mission to rescue a damsel from a dragon," said Sally. In the past, the heroes planning on rescuing a Damsel from a dragon had left with the full intention of killing the dragon. Of course, it followed that the portal wouldn't open for a person who meant to break a rule.

Sid went back to studying the pamphlet. After a reading for a while, he reached the part of the manual that addressed bringing a companion with him from Earth. He said, "It says that I can bring a companion to Chaos."

The idea that he could bring a companion with him bothered Sally. She didn't want to deal with two men and definitely didn't want another woman competing with her for his attention. She asked, "What does it say about the companion?"

"They have to come from Earth and must serve as my caretaker while in Chaos. They have to do the cooking, cleaning, and most of the carrying. They can't participate directly in the rescue of the Damsel. That is the job of the hero," answered Sid. He wondered if that allowed the companion to hold the horses while he rescued the Damsel. He decided the companion was allowed to provide an indirect support.

"What about sex?"

"It appears that the only one I can have sex with in Chaos is a companion," answered Sid after an untimely pause. That was another rule that he would have broken without knowing it assuming the opportunity arose. He read that part of the pamphlet a second time before he added, "I can't have sex with the companion while in Crossroads. It seems kind of strange to me that I can have sex with the companion in Chaos and Earth, but can't in Crossroads."

Smiling at the restrictions, Sally replied, "It's not confusing to me at all."

Realizing that she was feeling a little possessive, Sid said, "Don't worry. There isn't an Earth women who can compare with you."

Pleased at the compliment, Sally flipped through her pamphlet searching for any information concerning hero companions. She found a few rules and read them. Looking up at Sid, she said, "It appears that I have to take care of a companion's basic food, clothing, and rest needs. At least I'm not required to have sex with them."

She read on and then exclaimed, "Oh, it does say that having sex with a Hero Companion is my choice and not the companion's choice."

"What does that mean?"

Deciding that there weren't any real downsides associated with him bringing a companion from Earth, Sally shrugged and put the subject behind her. In an off-handed manner, she said, "I guess I would have to read the rules for companions to determine that."

Sid thought about Cynthia and wondered if she would be willing to live with those rules for a chance to learn how to be a lady from Sally. He seriously doubted she would be interested, but he'd ask for the Rules for Hero Companions before going back to Earth. He asked, "Is there anything else?"

"Just that having a companion is your choice and that I'm not allowed to voice an objection," answered Sally. She flipped the pamphlet back to the page she had been reading earlier. She had just finished reading the part about how she was supposed to explain the rules to the hero. It was a little late for that.

Sid thought about it and decided that bringing a Hero Companion would be a topic for later discussion. He went back to studying the pamphlet. After a reading through the next section, he returned to the one about companions. Reading it a second time, he realized that what wasn't included in the rules was just as important as what was included. There was nothing in it about the gender of the companion.

After a while, Sally looked up and realized she had been a little derelict in her duties. Sid had finished his meal and his wine. She looked over at him and saw that he was reading the pamphlet a second time. At least he hadn't noticed she hadn't been paying attention to him. She said, "Two coffees please."

The coffees appeared on the table, one in front of each of them. Her statement broke Sid's concentration. Looking up, he spotted the coffee and said, "Thank you. You always seem to anticipate my needs."

"You're welcome," she replied with a smile. In many ways, she was lucky he requested so little from her. She heard stories of other heroes who were much more demanding.

"You're still naked," observed Sid with a smile. He could sit there and look at her all day.

"I couldn't put on my clothes earlier," said Sally with a blush. "I came just holding them against my body."

"Really?" asked Sid.

"Yes," she answered looking down at the table. Her blush covered more than her face and endeared her to him even more.

The next day, Sid stood next to Sally as she laid out the missions that were available for him to take. She pointed to an area on a map of Chaos and said, "In this town, there is a Damsel who has been kidnapped. The kidnapper believes that another man will pay her ransom and he may be right."

"So what's the matter?" asked Sid confused as to why she was bringing this to his attention. Since someone was willing to pay her ransom, she wasn't really in trouble. According to the rules he had read in the Rules for Damsels, she couldn't be considered a Damsel in Distress. He joked, "It sounds like she is a Damsel in Discomfort."

"I know that this adventure sounds petty. After all, it is a pretty common scenario and, since someone is willing to pay her ransom, we normally wouldn't consider her to be a damsel in distress. But this adventure is a special case. While investigating it, I found that the man holding her has killed past hostages even after the ransom has been paid."

"Just how dangerous is this guy?" asked Sid. That little piece of information changed things significantly. She was facing near- certain death and her situation now fit the definition of being in distress.

"In terms of fighting skills, he's pretty mediocre. However, he's a sneaky one and won't meet you straight on," answered Sally.

"How much time does she have?" asked Sid.

"At least two months," answered Sally. She pointed to the map and explained, "She is being held here and the man who will pay the ransom is all the way over here. It'll take at least a month for the ransom demand to arrive and then a month for the money to be returned. He won't kill her until he gets the money and slips away. At that point, her value as a hostage will vanish and so will she."

Sid thought about it for a minute. It sounded as if it could be a difficult mission, but one well within his abilities. He said, "Okay. That's one of the adventures. What about the second one?"

Sally shook her head as she turned her attention to the second adventure. In a light voice, she said, "There is still the Damsel who is being held against her will. I told you about this adventure last time."

It took him a minute to recall the details. A man was holding her until she would agree to marry him. He asked, "Has anything changed since then?"

"Well, there was a little incident a little while ago," answered Sally hoping he wouldn't pursue this one.

Her evasion sparked his interest when she wouldn't meet his eye. He asked, "So what happened?"

Looking away, Sally tried to find a good way to phrase her answer. Unable to find one, she blurted, "A hero was killed trying to rescue her."

"Really? Tell me more," prompted Sid getting very interested in this particular adventure.

Sighing, Sally replied, "The hero showed up and announced in public that the man was holding the Damsel against her will. Things escalated until there was a public duel. The man holding the Damsel is probably the best knife thrower in Chaos. Before the Hero had a chance to close in with his sword, there was a knife sticking out his throat."

"A knife?" asked Sid. His first thought was that when a man with a knife met a man with a sword, then the man with the sword automatically won the fight. He was surprised to learn that it wasn't always the case.

"Yes, a knife," answered Sally.

"There's a third adventure?" asked Sid wanting to know all of the missions before getting too many of the details about any single one of them. So far, both missions she presented were of interest.

Relaxing, Sally answered, "Yes, the third adventure. Although slavery isn't widespread on Chaos, it does exist. A slaver has captured one of the Damsels. She's on her way to a large plantation to work the field."

Life long loss of freedom fit the criteria for distress. Bristling at the idea that a human being had been kidnapped into slavery, Sid sat up and asked, "She's been taken into slavery?"

"Yes, slavery. There are a lot of people in that particular region who support it since their crops are labor intensive. You'll be pursued upon taking her by almost every one of the neighbors. They'll want to recover her since an escaped slave sets a bad example for the rest of the slaves." Sally stood back and watched as Sid thought about what she had told him. It was her hope he would take this adventure. Of the three, it was actually the safest.

"Which one of the three adventures do you want me to take?"

"The last one," answered Sally. One look at his face and she knew what his next question would be. Anticipating it, she said, "It's the safest."

"Which of the three Damsels is in the greatest danger?"

Sally looked down at the floor as though studying the pattern of the carpeting. Not looking at him, she answered, "The second Damsel. The man holding her is getting impatient as a result of the fact that his actions have become public knowledge. He'll get rid of her if she doesn't agree to marry him. He'll probably maim or kill her. I estimate that she only has two or three days left."

"Since he's already killed one Hero, I assume you consider this to be the most dangerous of the adventures."

"Of course it is."

Sid paced the room thinking over everything that Sally had told him. Personally, he wanted to rescue the Damsel from slavery, but she wasn't the Damsel who needed him the most. The second adventure involved a highly trained knife fighter. That was the most dangerous kind of opponent that he could face.

He came to a sudden decision, namely that it wasn't necessary for him to decide which adventure to take at that particular moment. Turning to Sally, he said, "I need some time to think about it."

Taking him by the hand, Sally led him out of the mission room and into the living room. Once there, she pointed to the couch and said, "There is something else on your mind. Would you like to tell me about it?"

Accepting that this was as good of a time as any to discuss the matter of Cynthia, Sid took a seat and patted the space next to him. Sally joined him on the couch and curled against him. She emitted a contented purr as he held her to him. It was hard to say which of the two was more satisfied by the situation.

Sid had watched her glide across the room and take her seat. Once again, he amazed at the grace with which she moved. Unbidden, the words tumbled out of his mouth, "You are so graceful."

"Thank you."

"I guess that is where my little story should start," said Sid.

"What? I'm graceful?"

Nodding, Sid started telling his story. "Back on Earth, I'm in college. One day in my literature class, the topic of the ideal woman came up. I made a mistake and described you to the class."

Surprised that he considered describing her to be a mistake, she pulled back and asked, "What do you mean by that?"

"Several things. You set a standard of beauty so high that the women in my class are unable to match it. It made more than one of them upset, particularly when every man in the class admitted he desired a woman like you."

She sat up and turned to look at him, thinking he was teasing her in some strange fashion. The expression on his face let her know he was speaking the truth. Shocked at the description of Earth women, she said, "Surely that can't be true."

"Oh, it is true enough. The majority of women on my planet move like cows, dress in fashions that are designed to be unattractive, and talk like sailors. None of the women in my class could even hope to compare with you on your worst day and their best," answered Sid.

"My goodness." Sally was stunned at his description of the women on Earth. She wondered how the men of Earth could even be interested in such women. She asked, "So what happened?"

"One day a woman in my class came to me and said she would like to learn how to be more like you."

Sally smiled at the announcement and returned to her comfortable position of lying against Sid. So one of the women decided to learn how to act like a woman and approached Sid to find out how. She could understand that. She asked, "So what did you do?"

"I set her up with an old friend of my Uncle Gerald. She will teach the young lady etiquette," answered Sid.

"To learn manners?" asked Sally surprised that one had to take lessons for that.

"Yes, I sent her to learn how to act and behave in a proper fashion. Mrs. Wilson will teach her to act and move with social grace."

"I take it that Mrs. Wilson knows how to dress and move like a lady," observed Sally.

"Yes, but she is in her eighties and is the last of her kind," countered Sid. He swallowed heavily and then added, "It will probably be up to me to teach her how to dress and to work on her self confidence."

"Probably?"

Smiling as he realized that he had a perfect way of broaching the real subject, he said, "Unless you would like to be the one to do that."

The suggestion surprised Sally. Sitting up, she turned to look at him and said, "You are saying that I could teach her how to be like me."

"I can think of no one better," he answered with a smile.

Her mind raced as she considered the suggestion. Rather than making a decision immediately, she said, "Two Cognacs, please."

Two snifters containing Cognac appeared on the table. Sally leaned forward and picked up one of the snifters. She handed it to him with a smile and said, "I'll have to think about it. For now, let us enjoy a drink and each other's company."

"Thank you," said Sid as he accepted the Cognac from her. He watched as she leaned forward and took the second snifter from the table. He shifted so that she could lean against his chest while allowing both of them to enjoy their drinks. He held her with his left arm, his forearm resting just under her breasts. He sighed and said, "This is so nice."

"Yes, it is."

Sid enjoyed the time spent sitting together. At another time, he would have wanted to escalate it into sex, but this was better in a different way. He asked, "Do you know what is missing?"

"What?"

"A fire in a fireplace and soft music playing in the background," answered Sid.

"That sounds romantic," said Sally. She mentally went through the steps required to make the suggested modifications to the room. Once she had figured out how to do that, she tried to figure out how she could return to the control room without disrupting the atmosphere of closeness that had descended upon them.

Feeling the subtle increase in tension through her body, Sid said, "Not now. For now, I just want to lie here with the most beautiful woman on four planets in my arms."

'The most beautiful woman on four planets.' She liked the sound of that and nestled against him. She took a sip of her Cognac and cooed her pleasure.



-------

Chapter 3



The main street of the town was a mess. Rain had turned it into a strip of mud that sucked at the feet and threatened to pull his boots off with each step. Although he had expected to see wood planks laid out to make crossing the street less messy, there were none. It wasn't even clean mud, but had manure from a variety of animals mixed in with it. The air was ripe with the odor of shit, spoiled food, and human activities.

In the middle of the town, a two wheeled cart pulled by an ox had sunk to its axle. Even the ox had sunk into the mud. It was struggling to pull the cart free while the drover was whipping it. The cart wasn't the only one stuck in the mud. There were two others that were in just as bad of a situation, but the drovers had unhitched the oxen and led them away leaving the carts where they were until the rain stopped.

Sid couldn't tell what the carts were carrying, but they must have been heavily loaded based on how they had torn up the street. What looked like a small puddle often turned out to be a deep hole created by an ox. The slick mud made slugging across the street difficult, but the holes and ruts made it nearly impossible.

A cold biting rain was falling, thoroughly soaking Sid as he trudged his way towards the closest inn. Although it was only across the street and four buildings down from the bank, it seemed like a long trip. By the time he reached the narrow strip of wood that served as a porch for the inn, his leathers were soaked and his boots were filthy. He muttered to himself, "Not a very auspicious beginning for this adventure."

He looked for, and found, a small metal stand next to the door of the inn. A pile of mud surrounded the stand giving a clue as to its purpose. He had observed another man using a similar stand in front of the bank. Sid went over to it and scraped his feet along a projection of metal removing the majority of mud that covered his boots.

He stood outside the inn for a moment before he commented, "Never thought about what it meant to have paved streets."

There was no one to hear him since anyone with brains had stayed indoors. He opened the door and stepped into the inn. A sudden blast of smoky air brought tears to his eyes. A small fire in the fireplace appeared to be spewing more smoke into the room than out through the flue.

Pulling the door closed behind him, he paused to look around the room. The fireplace was along the right side of the room. There was a long table to his right and two long tables to his left. The seats were pairs of benches that ran half the length of the tables. There was a short counter at the back of the room. A short bald man stood behind the counter watching him. In a loud voice that could carry over a crowd, the man shouted, "Wipe your feet."

Sid looked down and saw that he was standing on a horse hair mat. He wiped his feet a couple of times and then stepped away from the door. Seeing that the man wasn't coming to greet him, Sid walked over to the counter. Upon reaching it, he said, "I need a room for the night."

"Board?"

"Yes," answered Sid since the only place to eat in town was the inn.

"Three quads for room and board for the night," said the man with a grunt. He had already taken note of the fact that Sid carried a staff and a homemade one at that.

"Three?" asked Sid bothered by the unusually high price. The typical rate for a night in an inn was two quads. The price could run up to six quads for a night, but that was for a high-end inn located in a very large city. Looking around at the rough wood walls, simple tables, and pewter tankards it was obvious that this wasn't a high-end inn.

"Take it or leave it. You leave it, you get to sleep in the rain," said the man. For the first time since Sid had entered the building, the man smiled.

Sid grimaced at the sight and felt like telling the man that he shouldn't ever smile. His mouth was filled with crooked teeth that were a sickening shade of yellow green. The man was disgusting and greedy.

Considering that there wasn't much of a choice concerning where he could stay the night, Sid bowed to the inevitable. He pulled out his coin purse and removed three quads. Handing them to the man, he said, "The room had better be clean at these prices."

"Clean enough," replied the man as the coins disappeared. Gesturing to the hallway to his left, the man said, "The room is the first one on the left."

"Got one further from the public room?" asked Sid thinking that a few loud drunks in this room would keep him awake the whole night. Even putting some distance between him and the public room wouldn't assure a good night's sleep. The odds were pretty good that he'd have to share the room with others and one of them was bound to snore.

"Only got one room," answered the barman with a chuckle.

"Pitcher of watered wine," requested Sid realizing that he was not going to much sleep that night.

"That'll be two pinches," answered the barman giving him the same creepy smile.

Before the words had even left his mouth, Sid had swung his staff in an arc and slammed the length of it flat on the counter with a loud bang. There was less than a half an inch between the staff and the barman's hand that had been resting on the counter. Growling in a low voice, Sid said, "Don't play those games with me."

The speed and ease with which Sid had swung the staff surprised the barman. He was talking and then the next thing he knew the staff had struck the counter right next to his hand. Looking down at the staff, it was clear to the barman it was exactly where Sid had wanted it. He had barely seen the young man move.

The barman was used to a rough crowd and prided himself on being able to spot the customers who were likely to make trouble. Belligerent drunks weren't usually a problem. While they were busy swaggering around, he'd just hit them up side the head with his club. They weren't dangerous, just loud. The dangerous ones were the quiet men trained in the use of weapons.

The barman reevaluated Sid and decided that the young man was to be treated with a lot more respect. In as calm a manner as possible, he moved his hand away from the staff and said, "I believe I may have misspoken. The... ah... price of the room and board includes two pitchers of watered wine."

Sid smiled as he replied, "I thought that might the case."

Turning away from the counter to fill a pitcher with watered wine, the barman eyed his club that rested under the counter. Glancing back at Sid, he noticed that the young man was once again holding his staff in the same easy manner as before. Deciding it would be better not to try anything, he went ahead and poured a pitcher. After grabbing a pewter tankard, he returned to the counter and set them both down.

Sid carried the pitcher and tankard over to the table near the fireplace. His clothes were still wet and he wanted to get dry. He positioned the bench so that he was seated with his back to the wall, straddling the bench. There was no way that he was going to sit with his back to the barman or in a manner in which it was difficult to stand. His placed his staff so that it leaned against the wall within easy reach.

He filled the tankard with some of the watered wine and took a sip. Much to his surprise, it was a high quality watered wine. He settled in for a long wait. It would be several hours before dinner was served and hours after that before he could head to bed. Until then, there was nothing for him to do except wait and think about how he was going to complete this adventure.

Looking around, Sid considered his situation. He was less than a hundred yards from the Damsel in Distress and he still had no idea how to rescue her. The man holding her was very dangerous. It made sense that he was skilled with a weapon. One didn't earn enough to retire to a house in a city at such a young age without using a weapon to achieve such wealth.

The time passed with him thinking and drinking his wine. Deep in his thoughts, Sid was only peripherally aware of others entering the public room. The noise level slowly rose until it was too loud to think. Looking around, he examined the individuals who had joined him in the room. More than a dozen individuals were crowded around the other two tables. Most wore knives, but two were carrying clubs and one wore a sword.

Sid noted with a smile that his table remained empty of company. A few individuals turned to look him over, but quickly returned to their conversations when they noticed he was watching them. Based on the attention that he was getting, Sid wondered how many strangers came to this town. He thought it was likely that the recently deceased Hero had been the last stranger to visit.

Sid poured the last of the watered wine into his tankard. It only filled about a quarter of his cup. He took a sip and looked over at the barman positioned behind his counter. In Chaos, the barman never left the safety of the bar since customers were expected to come to him to get their drinks. Some of the bigger inns might have a barmaid who would serve the customers, but those kinds of places were rare.

A small scuffle broke out between two men with clubs. Sid watched as the larger of the two men pushed the smaller in his direction. The smaller man appeared to stagger backwards with his arms windmilling as if to maintain his balance. Sid grabbed his staff while standing to move. Without pause or hesitation, he moved to stand in front of the fire while watching the other man. At the last moment, the smaller man turned towards where Sid had been sitting. His club was raised in the air in a perfect position to descend on a person sitting at the bench. The man's face showed his surprise that Sid was no longer there.

The man slowly turned until he faced Sid realizing that his trick had been anticipated. He took in the relaxed stance and casual manner in which Sid held the staff. After shooting a glance at the larger man, he said, "Sorry, we got a little carried away with our argument. Didn't mean to frighten you."

Sid laughed and shook his head at the audacity of the man. At the sound of his laughter, the others in the room got very quiet. Sid looked over at the larger man, observing that he had actually taken a step back. He said, "I wouldn't argue with your friend anymore if I were you. You never know what kinds of accidents will happen when you argue with friends."

"Yeah, you're probably right," said the man as he edged over to the other side of the room. He understood the implied threat.

"Nothing probable about it," said Sid with a smile. It wasn't a very friendly smile.

The man returned to the other side of the room as fast as he could make it without turning his back on Sid. When he reached the side of the larger man, he stopped. The larger man put a hand on his friend's shoulder and said, "It might be a good idea for us to go now."

"Yeah, I think so," said the smaller one.

After the two men left, Sid went over to the table and picked up his empty pitcher. Every eye watched him as he carried it over to the bar. Upon reaching the counter, he asked, "When's dinner?"

In the silence of the public room, the voice of the barman was overly loud as he answered, "When ever you want it."

"I'll take it now," replied Sid. He leaned against the bar giving him a clear view of the room and the barman. The room watched him.

"Bird or beast?" asked the barman.

"What manner of beast?" asked Sid knowing that beast could refer to any meat, including mutton, goat, pork, venison, and beef.

"Rabbit," answered the barman.

"Sounds good to me."

Refreshed from a full night's sleep, Sid woke alone in the room of the inn. No roommates had disturbed his sleep and the public room had been exceptionally quiet once he left. Sitting up in the bed, he stretched and yawned. For a half second, he started to search for his boots, but recalled that he had slept with them on. The last thing he wanted was to have to run out of the inn in the middle of the night barefoot.

Standing up, he looked down at the bed. He had expected a bed frame with ropes upon which a straw mattress infested with all kinds of biting vermin would rest. That kind of bed was the source of the saying, 'sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite.' In the dark of the previous night, he hadn't been able to make out many details about it. Now in the light of morning, he could see how the bed was actually constructed. A thick heavy denim-like material had been cut into strips and woven together to form the sleeping surface. The ends were held tight to the frame by hooks. It reminded him of one of those aluminum lawn chairs with the woven vinyl straps.

Under the bed was a chamber pot. Since the inn didn't have a privy and he didn't feel like pissing out the back door, he decided to use the chamber pot. Finishing his business, he put the cover back on the chamber pot. Now that his bladder was empty, his stomach demanded food.

Sid wandered out of the bedroom and into the public room in search of food. A plate of cheese and small loaves of bread had been placed on the table where he had waited through the night. Setting his staff down by the table, Sid turned his attention to the food. Rather than a metal knife, there was a wooden knife laid across the block of cheese. He cut off a chunk cheese and grabbed one of the loaves of bread.

The barman watched him from behind his counter. He shouted, "I've got hot tea."

Carrying his staff under his arm, Sid took his cheese and bread over to the counter. Leaning against it, he said, "I'll take some tea."

While the barman went to get the tea, Sid took a bite out of the cheese. For Sid, cheese came in two major flavors - American and Swiss. This was neither and most closely resembled Edam. He found he liked it and decided he would have to explore Earth cheeses upon his return.

The barman returned with a pewter tankard of hot tea. Sid looked at the tankard and asked, "You serve tea in Pewter?"

Shrugging, the barman answered, "It's cheap and it doesn't break."

The comment reminded Sid of the fact that Pewter had been the plastic of the distant past on Earth. At the same time, an image of Clint Eastwood in one of his spaghetti westerns flashed through his mind. He smiled as an idea came to him. Picking up the hot tankard, he took a sip of the tea. The barman waited expecting Sid to return to his table. Instead, Sid asked, "Is there a blacksmith in town?"

"Sure, he's up at the end of the street," answered the barman surprised by the question. The previous night, Sid had sat alone at his chair without talking to anyone.

"Is there a place where I can get a pewter plate?"

"Yeah, you can get some from the general store two buildings down the street."

Since the barman didn't make a gesture that would let him know what direction was down the street, Sid realized that he was going to have to go exploring through the town. After taking another bite of cheese and bread, Sid asked, "Is it still raining?"

"Stopped last night," answered the Barman. He stared at Sid wondering why he was suddenly talkative.

Finishing his breakfast, Sid said, "I might need a room tonight."

"Same price," answered the Barman wondering what his business was here in town. It was odd that he didn't know if he would need a room for the night.

Looking over at the Barman, Sid asked, "Do you let your customers get jumped by other customers in here?"

The reference to the events of the previous evening caused the man to color darkly. He'd been surprised by the actions of Harry and Larry. He shrugged his shoulders and answered, "It's a dangerous world. Sometimes things happen."

"You don't say," replied Sid looking at the barman with narrowed eyes.

"I do say," said the barman. There hadn't been anything he could have done about the two men. Looking back at Sid, he said, "You handled yourself well."

The small store was packed with merchandise, most of the items were easily recognizable. There were bolts of cloth, shovels, axes, nails, and other items of common daily use both in Chaos and Earth. There were also things that were common antiques on Earth - butter churns, washboards, and chamber pots. There were some things that took him some time to figure out. One was a device for making toast by a fireplace.

He found the pewter ware near the back of the store. Picking up one of the plates, he noticed that it was bent and dinged. Most of the plates appeared to have already suffered some damage in transport. The fact that the plates didn't look brand new didn't bother him. It was the fact the plates showed signs of damage that dismayed him. The nicks meant that the metal was probably too soft to stop a knife. He lifted a plate and saw that it was barely thick enough to serve as a plate. Disappointed, he shook his head and looked around the store to see if there was something else within it that would serve his purpose.

The shopkeeper came over and asked, "Are you looking for something?"

"I was, but you don't have what I need," answered Sid. He knew that browsing through a store was something that one didn't normally do in a place like this. Folks knew what a store contained and normally asked for what they required directly. The storekeeper would collect the merchandise rather than the customer. His ignorance of some of the items within the store would be viewed as strange.

Sid left the store and stood outside looking around. Out in the street, men were struggling with the carts that had become stuck during the rainstorm. The mud was a little firmer since it wasn't raining, but it was still slick and grabbed at the men's feet. It would be days before the mud would dry enough to adequately support one of those carts. Looking at the condition of the road, he wondered if they ever had four days in a row go by without rain.

He looked across the street where the Damsel resided. Deciding to make one last attempt to pursue his plan, he headed down the street to the blacksmith's shop. Cursing the lack of sidewalks, the trip down the street left him in a bad mood - almost as foul as the odor of the mud.

Upon reaching the blacksmith's shop, Sid looked around. The building had a back wall, two half walls along the side, and a rather substantial roof. The rest of the building was open. The dirt floor was dry because of the heat coming off the furnace. Even at the front of the store, he could feel the heat coming off the furnace.

A small table held what he assumed were objects produced by the blacksmith. He was surprised to see the number of weapons on display. There was only a single plow blade and no horseshoes. The lack of horseshoes surprised him since he assumed that every blacksmith had horseshoes.

The blacksmith, a huge man with massive arms, came out from behind the building carrying a basket of charcoal. Glancing over at Sid, he poured the charcoal into the furnace. Stepping over to the bellows, he started pumping it as he asked, "What can I do for you?"

Jerry had knelt down to look at a basket of rusted chunks of metal. Recalling a passage in his history book, he looked up and asked, "Is this bog iron?"

"Yes. You know your metals," said the blacksmith surprised by the question. He pumped the bellows a few more times trying to decide what he'd do if the stranger asked him where the found it.

"I thought so," said Jerry as he examined a piece of the bog iron. He dropped it back into the basket and stood up to face the blacksmith.

"What do you need?" asked the smith while examining the furnace. The temperature in the furnace was approaching the point where he could smelt the bog iron to form what was called a bloom. It was the first step in a long process to turn the bog iron into a form that was usable. He pumped the bellows to keep the air moving through the coals.

For a moment, Sid struggled to remember how to specify a thickness of a quarter inch before recalling that a quarter inch was the thickness of a pinch coin. That wasn't enough to specify the dimensions that he needed. It took him a minute to recall that the thickness was referred to as 'on the thin' while the diameter was referred to as 'on the thick.' This system of measurement was about to drive him crazy. Having thought out how to make his request, he said, "I need some iron plate, three hands by three hands by a pinch on the thin."

"Don't have any," said the smith, "and you couldn't afford it if I did. That'd be enough iron to make three swords and a dozen knives."

"Okay, it's just not my day," replied Sid shaking his head. He didn't know if he'd be able to afford a piece of iron that large or not, so he didn't debate the smith on that point. He glanced at his staff and thought about asking if he could make metal caps for it, but knew that would take too much time.

"Anything else?" asked the man.

"No," replied Sid as watched the blacksmith work the bellows some more. The heat coming off the furnace was almost more than Sid could stand. He watched as the smith started dropping pieces of bog iron into the furnace wondering why the man wasn't using a crucible. He didn't know that the heat of the furnace wasn't enough to melt the iron. He wished he could stay to watch the whole process, but there was a damsel up the street who needed rescuing.

Walking up the muddy street, Sid paused to watch the men trying to get one of the carts out of the mud. The three men were covered in mud, the ox had churned up the whole area, and the cart was tilted to one side. He still couldn't make out what was in the cart. He did notice that the wheels were made of solid planks of wood rather than a wood rim with spokes. There weren't metal rims on the wooden wheels of the cart. In fact, he couldn't see any metal on the cart.

Finally reaching the front porch of the house in which the damsel was being held, Sid took a few minutes to clean his boots on the metal stand. The bronze device had tarnished with time and weather. There wasn't any mud around it, so he concluded that the man hadn't had any visitors or someone cleaned off the porch earlier that morning. Movement at the window let him know that the owner had observed him.

The door opened before he had a chance to knock on it. A smallish man with a huge handlebar mustache opened the door and glared at him. Without any kind of greeting, the man asked, "What do you want?"

"To talk to you," answered Sid. He examined the man. He wore a brace of eight throwing knives across his chest in a leather holster. Two knives were in sheaths on a belt around his waist. The man was running a finger along the handle of a knife in his chest holster.

"I don't want to talk to you," asserted the man as he started to close the door.

"Chirurgen, I think you do," replied Sid using the business name of the man as he leaned his staff against the front of the house. He knew that if the man had been able to take out a swordsman with his knife, that his staff would be of no value to him in a fight.

The man paused and looked as Sid wondering why he had put aside his weapon. The use of his business name suggested that Sid had a job for him to do. Although he wasn't interested in working at the moment, he decided to listen to what Sid had to say. He smiled at the thought that he could carve up the unarmed man if he tried anything. Opening the door, he said, "Come in."

Sid entered the house and looked around at his surroundings. So far, he hadn't seen the inside of a house in Chaos, but he could tell that this one was very well built compared to the rest. Rather than bare wood, there was real plaster on the walls. The wood floor was smooth and polished. The furnishings were made of very high quality wood that had been varnished rather than bare or painted.

Stepping closer to the man, Sid commented, "Very nice."

"What did you want to talk about?" asked the man with a frown when he realized that Sid had moved closer to him. His hand shifted to the knife at his waist.

"You're holding a woman here against her will. I've come to rescue her," answered Sid.

At the announcement, the man took a step backward to put greater distance between him and Sid, but Sid stepped forward to keep the distance. He was just a couple of feet too close for the man to throw a knife at him and too far for the man to gut him. Chirurgen grunted, "Get out of here."

"Not without her," replied Sid.

Even as Sid spoke, Chirurgen pulled his knife with practiced ease. Sid resisted the urge to take a step back believing that if he did so, he would find the knife sticking out his chest a fraction of a second later. The man's hand flicked out with the knife as though attempting to stab him. Sid knew the distance between them was too great for the knife to reach him. Attempting to grab the lightning fast hand would have gotten him cut.

The secret to a winning a fight is in controlling the timing and distance. Since Sid had established control of the distance, it was now a matter of establishing control of the timing. That was easier said than done. Sid feinted and watched as the man reacted with speed and precision. The style reminded him of a medieval knife fighting technique he had observed during a demonstration back on Earth. It was a very fast and very deadly style of fighting in that the blade was constantly moving and attacking.

Chirurgen glided forward with the knife slashing. He had changed his grip so that the knife was held with blade downward from his hand, thereby protecting his forearm. Backing away while trying to maintain his balance Sid barely managed to block the knife from slicing him through his upper arm, but received a small cut in his hand as the man changed the direction of the attack almost instantaneously.

The fight was going as Sid expected. He didn't have a chance and he knew it. Responding to the immediate threat to his upper body, Sid leapt back and found that his butt was pushed against the back of a chair. In a desperate move, he leaned back and windmilled his arms as though he was trying to keep his balance. In fact, he was trying to hide that he was actually supported by the chair. He knew that if he failed, his opponent would cut him to shreds before he could recover.

His opponent moved in to take advantage. As Sid had expected, the knife slashed towards Sid's upraised leg. Sid brought his foot down on the kneecap of the other man accomplishing two things; getting his leg out of the way of the knife and taking out his opponent's support. With a startled yell, the man found himself falling to the floor. It was a cheap trick, but in a fight like this one there were no rules.

Sid danced to the side and then forward placing a kick to the man's head. With a sickening thump, his foot made contact leaving a large muddy spot across the side of the man's head. Unsure if the man was unconscious, dead, or playing possum, Sid kicked the knife away.

Stepping back, he looked at the fleshy part of his left hand amazed at the amount of blood that was pouring from it. He couldn't believe how much it hurt. A shiver went through his body as he tried to conquer the pain through will power. It didn't work. Knowing that he would have to stop the bleeding, he looked around for something to use as a bandage. There wasn't anything except for the man's shirt. He knelt down and removed one of the knives from the man. It didn't take long to cut off part of the shirt to make a bandage.

It was awkward trying to bandage his hand, but he managed it. Unable to tie it off, he closed his hand around the bandage hoping that would hold it in place. He bent down and started to remove the man's weapons. According to the rules of combat, he had a right to take them and all possessions the man carried with him. More important than getting ownership of the weapons was getting the man unarmed.

A few minutes later, Sid was the new owner of twelve knives and a small coin purse. Ten of the knives were bronze throwing knives of exquisite balance and manufacture. The weapons, more than the house, spoke of a very successful fighter. He stood up and swayed for a moment. The bandage was already soaked a bright red.

Beads of sweat formed on his forehead from the pain produced by the cut. There was something unnatural with how much it hurt. His whole hand tingled. It reminded him of sticking his hand under hot water when it was freezing cold. He kept jerking his hand back as if to pull it away from whatever was producing the pain.

Looking around, Sid knew he was forgetting something. Sid wanted to hit his forehead when he realized he had forgotten about the damsel. He called out, "Ava Foreman of Cassandra! Where are you?"

A shout from a closed door caught his attention. He went over to it and saw it was bolted shut on the outside. Sliding back the bolt, he opened the door. Inside, a very attractive red head was standing inside the center of the room. He said, "We've got to get out of here."

Ava looked at Sid, realizing that her hero had finally come to rescue her. Her second thought was that he didn't look very heroic. His face was white, there were beads of sweat on his forehead, his left hand was wrapped in a blood soaked bandage, and he swayed as if he was about to faint. She stepped forward and saw her captor on the floor. She asked, "Is he dead?"



-------

Chapter 4



"No," answered Sid in answer to Ava's question about having killed the villain of the adventure. He had not killed the man although he didn't expect the man to rise from the floor anytime soon.

"Let's get out of here," the young woman begged. She was anxious to leave the place where she had been held captive. Over the months, her captivity had become increasingly more threatening.

Taking a good look at her, he noticed that she wasn't wearing shoes. In his weakened state, there was no way he was going to be able to carry her through the mud all of the way to the bank. He said, "You're going to have to put on some boots. It's muddy out there and you definitely don't want to walk in it barefoot."

"I don't have any," she replied looking down at her bare feet. Her captor had taken her shoes. It was meant to slow her down if she tried to escape.

"Take his," said Sid pointing to the man on the floor. It seemed to him that the floor was moving.

Ava went over to the unconscious man and pulled his boots off him. Although she presented an attractive sight, bent over and pulling on the boots, Sid didn't notice. He was too busy trying to remain standing. It felt as if his entire hand was on fire. His fingers on the cut hand had stopped working. He was barely aware of when Ava went to one of the chairs and sat down to put on the boots. They were too large for her, but they were better than wearing nothing. Standing up, she announced, "I'm ready."

Stepping outside, Sid paused to pick up his staff with his good hand. He wanted to use it like a crutch, but knew it would do nothing more than sink into the mud. He pointed towards the bank and stepped off the porch sinking to his ankles in the mud. The texture reminded him of mashed potatoes.

Sid led the way to the bank with Ava following behind. She was happy to have been rescued, but she was disgusted at the muddy street. As much to assure himself as her, he said, "We're almost there."

When they reached the bank, Sid staggered over to the counter and emptied the two coin purses on it. He examined the collection of coins on the surface, noting that it included a couple of pinches, some quads, two shells, and even a conch. The conch was worth fifty shells. Ava looked at the coins and commented, "That's enough money to purchase a horse."

The bank-teller swept the coins into the bin and waited for Sid to put his finger in the hole. When Sid didn't react, he said, "Put your finger in the hole, sir."

"Oh, right," replied Sid wondering why his mind felt so sluggish. He stuck a finger of his good hand in the hole. After a few minutes, the area around the hole glowed with a green light. Sid hardly noticed. The pain in his hand had spread up his arm and it now felt as if he had stuck his entire arm in a pot of boiling water.

"That's one conch, three shells, a quad, and three pinches," said the clerk with a tone of respect in his voice. A conch was a lot of money, representing more than a year's wage by the average person.

Gesturing for the damsel to follow him, Sid staggered towards one of the storerooms. On the way, Sid nearly collapsed and would have fallen if Ava hadn't caught him. Worried that he was going to die before making complete her escape, Ava asked, "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," replied Sid. He was beginning to wonder if he was actually going to make it to the storage room. It dawned on him that he could have thrown the coin purses, with coins, into the storage box and avoided wasting time with the teller.

Reaching the storage room, Sid opened the door and gestured for Ava to enter. Upon closing the door, he put his finger in the hole that would bring his storage box. A few seconds later, it appeared on the table. He opened the box and looked inside. The old sword and broken knife from his first trip were still inside. He placed his staff and knives in the box. It still looked empty despite the fact that he was slowly accumulating a cache of weapons.

Remembering that they couldn't take anything from Chaos back to Crossroads, he looked at Ava and asked, "Do you have anything that you can't take back to Crossroads?"

"No," answered Ava. Her time in Chaos had been spent primarily in captivity. Whatever goods she had accumulated, Chirurgen had taken so that she wouldn't be able to use them during an escape.

Satisfied by her answer, Sid closed the lid of the storage box. The storage box disappeared followed a briefest moment later by their transferal to the portal room in Crossroads. Barely able to control the pain, Sid stumbled through the door of the portal room. Ava followed and steadied him so that he didn't fall.

Sally looked over at Sid with dismay. He stood swaying, white faced, sweat covering his entire body, and his left hand covered in a white cloth that had turned bright red from blood. His left arm hung limp and useless to his side. She gave forth a little yelp and ran to him. Gesturing to Ava for help, she said, "We've got to get you to the healing chamber."

He allowed her to lead him to the healing chamber, stumbling as he walked. The incredible pain had spread to his chest. If the two women hadn't been holding him up, he would have fallen. Even as Ava helped Sally, she watched Sid with wide eyes barely able to believe she had finally been rescued.

Ava knew a hero had died trying to rescue her and she felt guilty about his death. Her captor had been furious about the public exposure the hero had brought down upon him. He felt that the people in town were looking at him with expressions of disdain. Even he had become convinced that he couldn't be much of a man if he had to hold a woman hostage to get her to marry him. With each refusal to marry him, he had become even angrier.

Chirurgen had told her that if he couldn't have her, then no one would. At that moment, Ava became convinced he was going to kill her before the week was over. After the death of one hero, the odds that a hero would come to rescue her had been slim. When she'd heard the fighting outside her door, she believed that it had nothing to do with her. Then Sid had called out her name. Her heart had fluttered as relief spread through her.

Ava bit her lip afraid that her hero would die. She prayed that he would recover and watched as Sally stripped him of his clothes. The sight of his naked body sent a thrill through her despite the fact that he was so weak. Sid was not a pale wraith of a man even when injured so severely.

When Sally removed his bandage, blood started dripping to the floor. The wound was a short slit that gaped swollen, red, and angry. It wasn't natural that such a small wound would bleed so much. Afraid of losing him, she wrestled him into the healing chamber. Peaceful oblivion settled over him when the door closed. It was several hours later before he sat up in the healing chamber feeling like his old self.

"I'll never be able to watch another action movie without laughing at the ridiculousness of it. I'm going to go to Hollywood and cut every screenwriter there. Maybe that way the hero won't run twenty miles after getting shot or stabbed," groused Sid. He looked at his hand expecting to see a huge scar, but there was nothing. It was as though he hadn't been cut. He flexed his fingers and was pleased to see that everything worked correctly. Aloud, he said, "Wow, I'm impressed."

Sally entered the room, feeling guilty that she hadn't been there when the chamber had opened. She grabbed his hand and examined it with concern. Relief spread over her face when she saw that it was healed without a sign of injury and he was able to flex his fingers. Feeling much calmer, she said, "You made it back."

"Yeah," replied Sid. The amount of pain and the blood loss didn't quite jive with his experience of cuts. He expected some pain and some bleeding with a cut of that size, but not quite so much. Puzzled, he asked, "Why did it hurt so much?"

"The knife was poisoned," answered Sally. After placing him in the healing chamber, she had waited to put Ava in the other chamber until after the diagnosis of his condition had been displayed. When she saw his physical condition displayed on the console, she was shocked nearly senseless. It was a miracle he had lived long enough to reach Crossroads.

At the surprised look on his face, she explained, "It had a venom on it that is both a neurotoxin and an anticoagulant. It paralyzes by causing all of your nerves to fire rather than suppressing them. If he'd hit your arm, you'd have lost use of it almost immediately."

"It hurt like nothing I've ever felt," said Sid. The memory of the pain was still fresh in his mind. In a way, it was a relief for him to know that he wasn't a wimp that couldn't take such a small cut.

"It would have killed you eventually if it hadn't been for the healing chamber. I didn't know about it until I put you inside it," answered Sally feeling guilty about the fact that she had sent him off on this adventure unprepared for such a possibility. The villain had been even far more dangerous than she had thought. She was relieved that Sid hadn't gone on this adventure on his first visit. In hindsight, it was hard to believe that she had referred to it as a simple snatch and run.

"Hey, you can't know everything," said Sid turning his attention to the distraction that was Sally's body. He didn't even know what to call her outfit, but it was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. Now that he was feeling healthy, his cock reacted in the predictable fashion.

Sally smiled at seeing his reaction to her. To her it was an honest compliment of the highest order, since in Cassandra men didn't get erections just from looking at a woman. Tilting her head, she said, "Ava is ready for you."

"Looking at you drove all thoughts of her from my mind," replied Sid overwhelmed by her beauty. Her concern and expression of worry for his welfare sent sexual thrills through his body.

"Well, let's get you clean and fed so you can drive her to sexual heights few women of Cassandra have ever known," she said with a smile. Praise from two women about his sexual prowess wasn't enough to establish a reputation throughout Cassandra, but it was a good start.

"I fear that I didn't really take a good look at her. If I recall correctly, she's a red head," said Sid trying to remember what Ava looked like, but drawing only a fuzzy memory of her.

"Yes, she's a red head. A very pretty one at that," commented Sally as she led him out of the room by the hand. She looked forward to teasing his body to a high state of sexual arousal during the bath. Ava, concerned about him being able to perform, had requested that Sally attend to them during her experience with Sid in the bedroom. She giggled at the idea that Sid would need any help performing in bed.

After preparing Sid for his tryst with Ava, she led him into the bedroom where Ava was relaxing on the bed. At the sound of their entrance, she had turned and looked at the pair. Her eyes widened at the sight of his hard erect cock unable to believe that he was already erect. She glanced over at Sally and saw the wide grin on her face. She couldn't help wonder what kind of man he was that he was able to get so excited and remain that way without coming.

Sid took a moment to examine Ava wondering how he had missed her obvious beauty. The redhead, the bright patch of red hair between her legs left no doubts that she was a natural redhead, was lying on the bed. She had not meant to look sexy, but her relaxed pose was the epitome of sexy. A lock of her long hair curled around her lush breast drawing attention to her puffy pink areola topped by a small hard nipple. Her fair skin, lightly freckled, looked as though it had never been touched by the sun and begged to be caressed. Her red lips, parted sensuously, demanded to be kissed.

The reaction of seeing her had the expected effect. His cock throbbed at the idea of making love to her. Seeing it, Sally smiled and winked at Ava. Pressing a hand against his back, Sally pushed Sid towards the bed as she said, "Give her pleasures she has never dreamt possible."

Grinning, Sid approached the bed and climbed onto it. On hands and knees, he crawled to her like a cat stalking a mouse. The aggressiveness of his approach sent thrills through Ava. Her eyes widened in amazement that a man could or would take such an active role in sex. In a soft voice, she said, "Oh my goodness."

For the next thirty minutes, Sid kissed and stroked every inch of her body. For a while, he played a game of connect the freckles with his kisses. It was a game that sent shivers through Ava, bringing her to a small orgasm that took them both by surprise. Sid followed that up with attention to her breasts, stroking the nipples with feather-light touches before kissing them. When he gave her a little love nip, she gasped as another orgasm took her by surprise.

Sid took his time so that he could fully enjoy the experience. He lost himself in her body, exploring every crevice. By the time he reached her pussy, the scent of her excitement hung heavy in the air. It was amazing how wet she had become in anticipation of being entered. He lapped at her juices like a kitten at a bowl of milk. His tongue explored every complex fold of her pussy. The outer lips, swollen in excitement, spread open to reveal her inner lips. The entire area was coated with her juices giving her a flavor that he appreciated and desired.

Ava gasped each time she came until he brushed his tongue over her clitoris. Her gasps turned to screams that only got louder when he finally entered her. With each thrust, she screamed out her pleasure unable to believe that a man was able to provide it and in such quantity. Her pleasure reached a crescendo when he came. It was so intense that she lost consciousness. Her fair skin had changed from white to red demonstrating a full body sexual blush.

Sid rolled off Ava and looked around for Sally. Other than the two of them on the bed, they were alone. Sally had left the room once she had known that Ava was enjoying his attentions. He looked back at Ava. There was a smile of satisfaction pasted on her face. She regained consciousness, looked at him licking her lips, and then drifted off to sleep. She cuddled next to him and cooed in her sleep.

It was several hours later when Sid woke to find that Ava had wrapped herself around him. She was hugging him with crushing force and rubbing her pelvis against him. She gave forth a gasp identical with those had accompanied her orgasms previously. It took Sid a moment to realize that she was still asleep and dreaming about her sexual experience with him. He wondered if she had just experienced an orgasm.

A giggle from Sally made him aware that she was in the room. He turned his head to look at her. It was easy to see that she was enjoying the show. She handed him a glass of restorative and whispered, "Drink this."

"Thanks," he whispered back. The restorative worked its magic on his body.

"Wake her up, now. You know how to do it," she whispered while making a little gesture involving an extended finger on one hand and the curled fingers of her other hand. It was delightfully obscene and brought a smile to his face.

"Join me," he begged.

"Later," promised Sally with a wink. She wanted Ava to know without a shadow of a doubt that it was Sid who provided the joy ride to sexual heaven.

Sid turned his attention to Ava to break out of her grip and mount her. Her eyes flew open when he entered her, sleep and pleasant dreams replaced by an even pleasanter reality. The only sounds she made were the gasps emitted whenever an orgasm washed over her. Ava was as limp as a rag doll by the time Sid achieved his climax.

Afterward, Ava stared at Sid incredulous at what he had done to her. She wouldn't have believed that a man could be so active in bed. Awed, she asked, "How is it that you are so feminine?"

"Excuse me," begged Sid shocked at being labeled feminine after his last performance. He sat up and stared down at her wondering if he was supposed to be insulted.

"You're so aggressive in bed," she replied confused by his reaction.

"Being aggressive in bed is a feminine trait on Cassandra?" asked Sid incredulous at her statement.

"Of course, men just lie there in bed doing nothing. If women didn't initiate things, there'd never be any sex in Cassandra," explained Ava with a sigh. She much preferred how Sid acted in bed.

"How is it that women from Cassandra are so quick to come?" asked Sid. It was unnatural for a woman to respond so quickly to the least little attention to her body. He knew that he wasn't some sort of sex god who could drive women wild with ease. His uncle had always reminded him that he had to be honest with himself. Once a man started lying to himself, then it became easy for everyone to lie to him.

"I don't think we come so quickly," countered Ava.

The door of the bedroom opened and Sally entered. She glanced at Ava and saw the satisfied smile on the woman's face. Looking over at Sid with pride, she asked, "Is there anything you would like?"

Uncertain that he had the quote correct, he said, "A loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and you."

Ava looked confused and said, "That's a strange thing to want."

"It's supposed to be romantic," replied Sid deciding that he had blown the quote. He made a mental note to look it up when he returned to Earth.

"Really? Why?"

"Uh," he stuttered, "I don't really know how to answer that. It is a line from a very famous poem about love."

"Oh," replied Sally with a confused look on her face. She wasn't sure how she felt being put in the same category as bread and wine. Why not steak and eggs? There had to be hundreds of things that were better than bread and wine.

Sitting up, Sid said, "I'll bring the whole poem. Maybe that will explain it."

"So what would you really like?" asked Sally.

"I'd like a little something to eat, to drink, and the chance to relax with the two of you in my arms," answered Sid.

Brightening, Ava said, "Oh, I get it. You wanted to enjoy her company without worrying about being hungry or thirsty. That way you can concentrate on her!"

Sally smiled at the explanation and said, "I set up a fire place in the living room. How about cheese and fruit with some wine in front of a nice fire?"

Sid followed Sally and Ava out of the bedroom. He enjoyed the view that following the two naked women provided. When they reached a soft rug placed in front of the fireplace, Sally said, "Fire in the fireplace, please. A plate of cheeses and sliced fruits please. Three wines."

A fire appeared in the fireplace and the other items showed up on the table. Looking down at the rug, she said, "Soft pillows for floor."

A pile of pillows appeared on the floor. Sally gestured to the pillows. They made themselves comfortable in front of the fire with Sid sandwiched between two lovely women. He put his arms around both women pulling them to him. He sighed and said, "This is heavenly."

Ava asked, "Is he always that good in bed?"

"Oh, yes. Sometimes it is almost too much for me," answered Sally as she fed him a piece of cheese. With his mouth full of food, Sid couldn't make a comment.

"You're a lucky woman," said Ava with envy.

Sally held a piece of fruit to him, but he ducked around it and kissed Sally. After a minute, he turned to Ava and kissed her. Both women were breathing hard when he broke off the kisses. Once he had their attention, he suggested, "Let's talk about something else."

Sally, amazed at his humility, said, "I can't think of anything I'd rather talk about than you."

Searching for a topic of conversation, Sid said, "According to the rules, I'm supposed to help find new heroes. What can they expect to happen when they come here?"

Surprised by the question, Sally answered, "He will be greeted by a Hero Greeter. She'll help him select a caretaker in the same way that Elizabeth Caretaker helped you."

"Is there anything special that I should look for in a hero?" asked Sid wondering if there were any religious or racial preferences.

Grinning, Sally said, "He probably shouldn't be as good in bed as you. I'd hate for you to have competition in that area."

Giggling at the idea that anyone could be better in bed than Sid, Ava said, "Yes, it would probably kill the damsel that he rescues."

"I'm serious," said Sid amazed at the turn in conversation. These women seemed to think about sex as much as men.

"So are we," Ava replied with a giggle.

Allowing Sid to change the subject, Sally said, "He should be well trained in the martial arts and have the character appropriate for a hero. After all, he needs to be able to survive the adventure."

"True," said Sid nodding his head. Chaos was dangerous for the unprepared. He said, "I don't know of anyone who could have survived that knife wielding villain back on Chaos. He was the most dangerous person that I've ever seen."

"Why was he so dangerous?" asked Ava.

"His expertise. There is nothing more dangerous than a knife fight. I'd rather go against a thug with a gun than a man with an edged weapon," answered Sid.

Sally sat up and looked at Sid on hearing the seriousness with which answered the question. She had assumed that a gunman would be more dangerous. Frowning, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"A knife is a slashing and stabbing weapon. A knife cut can easily go to the bone severing veins in the process. You'll bleed to death in a few minutes. With cut muscles and nerves, parts of your body become useless making you vulnerable to the next attack. A knife can be used to stab and destroy critical organs. Death can be nearly immediate," answered Sid. It was also a very personal form of fighting. He had been able to see in the man's eyes that he wanted to kill Sid. He sighed as he added, "You can even win the fight and still die."

"Is that why you were so worried about that mission?" asked Sally. She had been afraid because the man had killed another hero. She hadn't appreciated the true degree of danger that the adventure had represented.

"Yes, I had doubts that I could over come a trained knife fighter," answered Sid. He decided that he was going to have to change the emphasis of his training. He'd had formal training in the oriental martial arts along with Olympic style fencing. At the insistence of his uncle, he had also trained in some of the styles taught by the Society for Creative Anachronism. It had been the later experience that allowed him to survive his encounter on Chaos.

"Doubts?"

"I fully expected to come back maimed, if I came back at all," said Sid.

"Why did you take it?" she asked.

"Ava was the damsel in the most trouble," answered Sid with a shrug.

The red headed woman stared at Sid and asked, "Do you mean that you went there knowing that your chances of success were slim just to rescue me?"

"Sure, what kind of person would I be if I didn't try to rescue you," answered Sid. He looked down at his left hand. If it hadn't been for the poison, he had come out of the fight in much better condition than he had expected. The cut could even have been avoided with the use of a small hand shield. He hit his forehead and shouted, "I'm so stupid!"

"Huh," asked Sally.

"I spent all of my time trying to figure out how to create some sort of cheap armor. I should have thought about a cheap shield," groaned Sid. Even a pewter cup smashed flat could have served as a simple hand shield. The handle would have allowed him to hold it.

Sally nodded her understanding even though Ava looked confused. Seeing the confused expression, Sally explained, "If you can't block an attack, then you are left having to scramble to avoid it. A small shield would have given him a lot more options."

Sid was about to make additional comments, but Sally put a finger over his lips. There was a time and place for reviewing the events of the adventure and this wasn't either. She said, "We'll go over the mission later. For now, you are supposed to relax."

Looking to his left and then to his right, Sid appreciated the view presented by the two women. No healthy male could resist such a sight. A dark Asian mystery to his right and a Celtic fire to his left, Sid was in fantasy heaven. He replied, "How can I relax surrounded by such beauty?"

The statement made Ava look down at his erection. She gasped and, wide-eyed at the sight of his throbbing erection, said, "You're ready to go again! My God, I can't believe it."

"Believe," said Sally as she pulled the pillow out from under Sid so that he was lying flat on his back. He winked up at her and licked his lips in an obvious invitation. As she climbed to straddle his face, she said, "Don't let that erection go without comfort for too long or I'll use it."

Ava didn't need to be told twice. She mounted him and rode with a tentativeness that conveyed her fear of triggering an early orgasm in Sid. She screamed when he started thrusting up into her. Giving over to the demands of her body, she relaxed and rode him for her pleasure.

Under two attractive women using his body for their pleasure, Sid was in heaven. By the time he came, his pair of beauties had exhausted themselves. Ava fell of to the side and didn't move. Sally fell forward almost smothering him with her body. Sid extricated himself from under the two women and looked at them with a smile. Going to bed with women who were so easy to satisfy was really great for the ego, but he wondered if he'd ever be able to satisfy an Earth woman again.

Two weeks passed in an orgy of sex, food, and conversation when Ava came out of the bathroom one morning and announced, "I'm pregnant."

"Congratulations," said Sid going over to give her a hug. It was a bittersweet feeling. On one hand, he knew that he was helping repopulate an entire planet. On the other hand, he wanted to be more then a sperm donor for these women and children. Worst of all, he knew her announcement meant they would both have to leave soon.

The women hugged for a moment and then Ava walked out the door. Sid watched her go with sadness at having a lover walk out of his life for good. He knew the rules and so did Sally. Turning to face him, Sally said, "You're going to have to go now."

"I need the manuals," said Sid looking around the room for them.

Sally stepped over to a table and returned with the stack of pamphlets she had prepared in anticipation of his departure. Sid took them from her with a heavy heart knowing that the time for good-byes was growing short. The increasing tension in his stomach told him that it was time to separate. She smiled and said, "Come back in two weeks."

"One week," countered Sid, "I want to rescue the Damsel from slavery."

"Okay, one week," said Sally opening the door to the portal.

Just before stepping inside, Sid kissed her farewell. It was a long passionate kiss intended to make them both remember their parting. As she closed the door, Sid stared at her naked body memorizing it once again. It would be only a week before he saw her again, but it would be a week too long.

There was a flash and Sid found himself in the closet back at his house. Stepping out, he glanced at the atomic clock on the desk and saw that exactly fifteen minutes had passed. He looked down at the pamphlets in his hand and was pleased to see they had come through without a problem.



-------

Chapter 5



Sid arrived in class early to watch the arrival of Cynthia. It was her grand unveiling - the first day in which she went into public wearing her new wardrobe. He wondered which of the new outfits she would wear. He hoped that it was the blue dress since it was the sexiest of them.

When Cynthia glided into the room, even Sid was surprised at the transformation. The loose fitting blue dress came down to her knees, was tight at the waist, and had a plunging neckline that just begged a man to check out her breasts. As nice as she was dressed, it was the way that she moved that drew the eye to her.

One of the young men in the room asked, "Are you supposed to be in this class?"

"Yes, I am," she replied softly. During the trip from her car to the classroom, she had been stopped several times by young men wanting to initiate a conversation. She couldn't believe the attention that a minor change in wardrobe had brought about.

"It's kind of late in the semester for you to show up to class for the first time."

"I've been here every class," replied Cynthia realizing for the first time just how invisible she had been in the past.

"Hey, I would have noticed a fox like you."

"That's a very nice thing to say," said Cynthia. She smiled at the compliment and looked over at Sid. He was watching her with an expression that let her know that he appreciated what he was seeing. She decided that it was time to reward her hero. She was going to visit him that night to thank him for all of his efforts by giving herself to him.

She walked over to her normal chair and seated herself. Every male in the class watched her walk through the room. For many of them, she was the most graceful and elegant woman they had ever seen. Even a few of the women watched her, although their interest was of a very different nature. The sudden appearance of a beautiful woman in the classroom threw many of them for a loop.

One of the women looked thoughtfully at Sid and asked, "Your perfect woman, is she like her?"

"Very close," answered Sid with a smile.

For the rest of the day, one man after another approached Cynthia in attempts to have her notice them. People turned to watch her when she entered a room. Young women who were used to being the center of attention found very quickly that she had stolen the show. The normal reaction would have been to label her a slut, but there was nothing slutty about her appearance; she looked classy.

The pamphlets that Sid had brought back with him from Crossroads were in a pile on the coffee table. He had put them there after reading each one several times. It was an interesting collection of material that included instructions on how to construct a portal. The instructions were identical to the ones that appeared in Gerald's journal, although it included illustrations and variations.

Yawning out of boredom, Sid stood and stretched. His homework for the day was done. He still needed to look up some more material for his paper in history, but he planned to do that when he went to work in the library. He had been given his choice of several topics for his paper and had chosen to do it on early American industries.

Nature called and he headed down the hall towards the restroom. Just before reaching the door, there was a knock on his front door. In the entire time he had been living in the house, he'd had two visitors, his aunt and Cynthia. Cynthia had been to his house once. All other interactions with her had been in school or at stores when they had gone shopping together. Surprised to have company, he turned to answer the door with the hope that it wasn't family.

Sid opened the door and looked out at his visitor. For a moment he stared at her speechless. Recovering, he said, "Cynthia! What a pleasure to see you again."

Sid was not being generous when he said that it was a pleasure to see her again. She looked even better than she had in class that morning. Her bright green outfit demanded a first and second look while showing off her figure to best advantage. There was enough of a cleavage to draw the eye to her breasts. The dress was short enough to show off her legs. It hugged her body sufficiently to show off her figure while being loose enough to flow as she moved.

"I just wanted to thank you. I hope it is not too late to stop by," said the young woman. Cynthia stood on the porch, poised and confident while showing just a trace of vulnerability that was sexy. She could see by the expression on his face that she had impressed him with her appearance. It was the first time she had seen him look at any woman with more than superficial interest.

"Not at all," replied Sid happy to see her and finding it difficult to keep his eyes off her. Remembering his manners, he said, "Please come in."

Cynthia glided into the room with newfound grace. She walked like a fashion model; all evidence of a duck-like gait was gone. He noticed that she stood with her back straight, head level, and her shoulders back. Mrs. Wilson had worked miracles in teaching her how to stand and move.

Closing the door, he gestured to a chair as he said, "Please take a seat here in the living room."

Cynthia glided over to the chair and sat down in a proper manner. Sid followed her into the room. Sitting up straight, she crossed her legs at her ankles and turned her upper body to look over at her host. Maintaining eye contact, she smiled and then said, "Thank you."

Although Sid wanted to continue the conversation, his bladder was busy reminding him of its need to be relieved. Unable to wait much longer, he said, "I was about to take care of something rather important. If you would excuse me for a second, I'll be right back."

"Of course. Please take your time," replied Cynthia with a slight nod of her head.

"Thank you," replied Sid as he backed out of the room. Once out of sight, he raced to the bathroom. As he relieved the pressure in his bladder he thought about the changes in behavior of Cynthia. She was almost a different person from the non-entity who had stopped at his table that day.

While Sid was out of the room, Cynthia noticed the stack of pamphlets on the coffee table. Mrs. Wilson had said that books left on a coffee table were intended to provide a topic of discussion when people were unable to find something to talk about. Curious, she picked up the pamphlet entitled, 'Rules for Hero Companions.' She opened it and started to read.

Engrossed in the material contained within the pamphlet, Cynthia didn't hear Sid return. When he saw what she was reading, he said, "Ah, I see you discovered one of the rule books."

Looking up at him, she replied, "This is a very strange little publication. It reads like some sort of a cross between a fairy tale and a driver's manual. What is it?"

Taking a seat across from her, he answered, "Which one are you reading?"

"Rules for Hero Companions," answered Cynthia with a hint of a blush. She had been rather embarrassed by the rules concerning the requirement that a hero companion must take care of the sexual needs of the hero while in Chaos.

"That is the rule book for people from Earth who choose to accompany a hero on his adventure in Chaos," replied Sid. He spread the other pamphlets out on the coffee table and explained, "These are the other rule books that I brought back from Crossroads. You might want to take them with you and read them."

Looking over at him with an amused smile, she asked, "You brought them back from Crossroads?"

Sid had not meant to say that, but he wasn't about to take back the truth. He answered, "Yes."

"Interesting."

"Would you care for some coffee or tea?" asked Sid wanting to change the subject away from his accidental slip.

"I would enjoy some tea," answered Cynthia confidant in her answer. On her first trip to his house, she had been made uneasy by the question. Mrs. Wilson had explained that being offered the choice was exactly what it implied. She was being asked which of the two beverages she preferred and there wasn't a wrong answer.

"Excuse me while I prepare some tea," said Sid.

"Of course," replied Cynthia. She watched him leave the room and then returned to reading the pamphlet wondering if he had really been serious about having brought it back from Crossroads for her. She reached the part where she was required to have sex with the caretaker should the woman make the demand of her.

She looked up and thought about what was in the pamphlet. She frowned at the idea that he was using that as a means of sleeping with her, but that is how it appeared to her. She wondered why he was doing it that way. Of course, the part about having to take care of the camp, carrying his goods, and cooking sounded like some medieval treatment of a woman. She didn't know what to think about the whole thing.

Putting the pamphlet to the side, she picked up the rulebook for heroes. She giggled at the adolescent fantasy that it appeared to represent. Aloud, she said, "Gaggles of women just wanting to sleep with the hero. Right."

Entering the room with a tray on which he had the tea and pastries, Sid smiled at the characterization of the adventures. Setting the tray down on the coffee table, he said, "Yes, I suppose it does sound like a teenage fantasy."

"Is this some sort of game like Dungeons and Dragons?" asked Cynthia.

"It is real, but I don't expect you to believe me without experiencing it yourself," answered Sid.

"Why would I want to do that?"

"You asked if Sally Caretaker could teach you," answered Sid, "and I investigated how you could meet her. Being a Hero Companion is the only way."

She stared at him in shock. Her thoughts raced, 'His perfect woman didn't really exist? His perfect woman was some sort of fantasy woman? This guy actually believed in this fantasy world? What have I gotten myself into? I don't want to be involved with someone who's crazy!'

Cynthia came to a decision. She wasn't going to thank him in the manner she had planned. There was no way she was going to give up her virginity to a madman.

While Cynthia was trying to make sense of what she had just learned, Sid calmly prepared a cup of tea for her. He interrupted her thoughts when he said, "Here's your tea."

Automatically, she accepted the tea and said, "Thank you."

"I imagine you think that I'm crazy," said Sid.

"I'm sure of it," replied Cynthia immediately regretting it. The words slipped out of her mouth before she had a chance to think of the consequences of calling a crazy man crazy. She wondered if she should drink the tea.

"I will make a deal with you," said Sid watching the expression on her face. He knew that she wasn't going to believe him until she stepped through the portal and experienced Crossroads for herself. If he really wanted to convince her that he wasn't crazy, getting her to step through the portal was the biggest problem he faced.

"What kind of deal?"

"Think about what is in the rule book. If you think that you could act as required by the rules upon proof that Crossroads is a real place, then come here next Saturday. I won't ask you to do anything until you are satisfied that Crossroads is a real place," Sid said with calm assurance.

"I will think about it," replied Cynthia thinking that it would be best to play along with him.

"If you wish, you may bring someone with you to my house to make sure that I don't do anything to you that you don't want to have happen. All I ask is that they wait for fifteen minutes in the living room while we go on the adventure," said Sid realizing that he wanted her to go with him.

"Fifteen minutes?"

"I'm sure you noticed that the rule book said that no matter how long you are in Crossroads, only fifteen minutes will pass here on Earth," explained Sid. He added, "I don't know how it works, but my experience shows that it is true."

Cynthia wondered what could happen in fifteen minutes if she had someone waiting for her outside the room. Her imagination filled in plenty of details, none of which were pretty. A shiver went through her body. She repeated her question, "Fifteen minutes?"

"Yes, fifteen minutes," answered Sid not sure what her question meant.

Deciding to act as if she was taking his fantasy seriously, she asked, "So what do you get out of it?"

"Out of what? Going to Crossroads or having you come with me?" asked Sid.

"Going to Crossroads."

Despite having been there three times, Sid hadn't really thought about an answer to that question. His first thought was that he went back to be with Sally Caretaker, but that wasn't really the whole reason. He said, "In a way, it is a male fantasy world. First, there is Sally Caretaker. She's a beautiful woman; the most beautiful woman I've ever met. She's also smart and very knowledgeable about many subjects. I could spend the rest of my life talking with her.

"Second, there are the Damsels in Distress. It's not the reward for rescuing them that attracts me, although that is a very pleasant benefit. I really feel good about rescuing them from danger. The first Damsel was about to be sold into indentured servitude. She'd have ended up a prostitute if I hadn't saved her. The last Damsel would have been killed or maimed by the man holding her against her will.

"Third, there is the adventure itself. I've seen things that I never thought possible. I've watched men digging for clay along a riverbank. A blacksmith was smelting bog iron on my last trip there. I've even spent an evening in an inn watching people in a world where electricity doesn't exist.

"I also get to test my martial arts skills against others in an honest fight. By honest fight, I mean one that is not fought according to any artificial rules. It is a real fight where your opponent is likely to try anything at all, including using poisoned blades. I was almost killed on my last adventure, but I got a much better understanding of my abilities than I would get in any Earth competition.

"I guess I've also come to appreciate the things we take for granted. You don't think about it, but concrete sidewalks and streets are modern miracles. We flush toilets without realizing what life would be like without them. There is no way that I could have come to those realizations without having experienced Chaos," said Sid.

It was a far more complete answer than she had been expecting. She noticed that the sex was only a minor motivation. Curious, she asked, "Why would you want me to come along?"

"I don't really know how to answer that question. You had asked if Sally could help you become like her, so I found out if that was possible. I wasn't really thinking about what I would get out of it. Now that we are talking, I realize that I want someone to talk with concerning events there," answered Sid.

Cynthia frowned at the idea that he was hoping to drag her into his fantasy world. She asked, "So why should I want to go there?"

"Good question," answered Sid. He hadn't given any thought as to what would motivate a Hero Companion to undertake such a high- risk activity. After a minute, he said, "I have no idea."

She smiled at the fact that he didn't say she would get to sleep with him, although she was tempted to believe that he thought it. Curious, she said, "Care to speculate."

Realizing that he didn't really know enough about her to speculate about what might motivate her, he replied, "Not until I know enough about you to know why you would do something so dangerous."

"It's dangerous?" asked Cynthia.

"Very dangerous," replied Sid. He hadn't realized it at the time, but his uncle had spent years preparing him for these adventures. He had years of martial arts training, little projects in which he was given the skills to create weapons, and camping trips for surviving in the wilderness. Although he would enjoy having her come along, he wouldn't trick her into it.

"So why would I go?"

Trying to get a moment to consider his answer, Sid took a sip of his tea. The tea was tepid and tasted horrible. Setting down his cup, he asked, "Have you studied any of the martial arts?"

"No."

"Do you like to camp?"

"Never done it," answered Cynthia.

"Then I think it would be a very bad idea for you to go," said Sid deciding that taking her along would be the equivalent of killing her outright. He wouldn't do that and said, "Forget my earlier offer."

The retraction of the offer surprised Cynthia. In the course of the discussion, she had become convinced that he believed in his fantasy and it made her curious. She took a sip of her tea and grimaced at the taste. Looking up, she said, "My tea has gotten cold."

"So has mine," said Sid feeling that he wasn't fulfilling his role as a host. Embarrassed, he said, "Allow me to get you a fresh cup."

"I have a better idea," replied Cynthia. "Why don't we go to a coffee shop and get a cup of coffee there?"

"Sounds good to me," said Sid. Looking down at his clothes, he realized that he wasn't exactly dressed to accompany Cynthia in public.

Recognizing what he was thinking, she said, "Don't worry about it. We'll just be going to a coffee shop."

Nodding, Sid stood and extended a hand to help her out of her chair. She took it and stood putting only a light pressure on his arm. Mrs. Wilson had explained that the gesture was an offer of support, not a demand that she pull herself out of the chair. An elderly woman might actually make use of that offer, but it should be offered to both young and old. She hadn't understood why it should be offered to a young woman until Mrs. Wilson suggested how insulted a woman might be if she was suddenly treated differently because she was viewed as getting old. On standing, she said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," replied Sid appreciating the improvement in manners. He felt like he was dealing with a lady rather than a dock worker. It was a refreshing change for him.

They drove to a local all night coffee shop in separate cars with Sid following her. It was not the first time they had met somewhere in public. Sid had gone shopping with her and helped picked out the outfits she had purchased. This trip seemed to have a different flavor for Sid. Somehow it had stopped being a self-improvement project and become a date. He wondered how that had happened.

Cynthia drove to the coffee shop wondering why Sid had changed his mind about her going along with him to Crossroads. It didn't seem that cooking in a camp could be dangerous. Carrying his stuff might be a hassle, but she wasn't a weak woman. If his fantasy world did exist, then even having sex with him wouldn't be that bad. She'd come over to his house with the intention of allowing him to make love to her.

Sid pulled into the parking lot behind Cynthia and parked his car in an empty spot a little distant from where she parked. They met at the front door and, upon entering, waited for the hostess to take them to a table. Following the hostess, Sid observed a man reach out and pinch her on her bottom. Along with the pinch, the man commented, "Nice and firm."

Without a second thought, Sid reached down, groped the man's private parts, and then said, "Nice and firm."

Furious, the man stood up and faced Sid with clenched fists. A vein in his forehead throbbed as he shouted, "You fucking faggot!"

"It's not so nice when someone fondles you against your wishes, is it?" asked Sid in a low threatening voice while staring the man in the eyes. In a half second, he had gone from relaxed to ready for battle.

Considering the nature of Sid's actions, it was obvious that he was more than willing to escalate to violence. Seeing the stance Sid had taken, it was also clear that Sid was quite capable of taking him apart in a fight. The thought that he could end up seriously injured gave the man pause. Backing off a little, the man replied, "Keep your hands to yourself."

"I suggest that in the future, you do the same," answered Sid.

Having missed the event that triggered Sid's actions, Cynthia had watched the exchange with an open mouth. The hostess was embarrassed, but also thankful. When the manager headed over to them, she shook her head and said, "Your table is over here."

Sid backed away as the man returned to his seat. After a few steps, Sid turned and followed the hostess and Cynthia to the table. Once there, the hostess said, "Thank you."

"My pleasure, ma'am," replied Sid with a slight nod of his head.

"I must admit that I get tired of the groping, lame pickup lines, and boorish behavior," admitted the weary hostess. It was worse when the bars closed and the bar crowd came into the place. Too many of them were drunk and loud. After hours spent in pickup joints, the men all looked at women like meat in a butcher shop.

Looking over at the other table, Sid commented, "My uncle used to say that there were not enough gentlemen left in this world. I find that I agree with him."

"Have a seat and your waitress will be with you in a minute," said the hostess with a smile. It seemed to her that men didn't talk like that anymore except in the old movies.

Cynthia slid into the booth realizing that Mrs. Wilson had not told her how to deal with booths. It was difficult to slide into a booth while looking graceful. After Sid had taken his seat, she said, "I think the whole world has conspired against the manners of the old times. There is no graceful way to enter one of these booths."

"That is true," said Sid as he slid into his seat. Settling down, he said, "I must apologize for that little scene back there. Some men don't realize that their attempts to get the attention of women are offensive."

"I will say that I was a little taken aback by your willingness to create a public scene," replied Cynthia.

"It was create a scene or allow an offense to pass without remark," replied Sid with a shrug of his shoulders. Although he doubted that his intervention would have the effect desired, he said, "Perhaps in the future he will think twice about doing such an action again."

"I wasn't quite sure what he did."

"He pinched the hostess when she passed by him and made a rude comment about her. As my uncle Gerald would say, he deserved a good thrashing."

Cynthia giggled at hearing the word thrashing. It sounded so old fashioned and was definitely out of place in a modern coffee shop. The waitress arrived at the table and said, "I saw what you did. Thanks from all of us."

"My pleasure," replied Sid.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Turning to Cynthia, Sid asked, "Would you care for coffee or tea?"

"Coffee please."

"It's getting late. Would you like regular or decaf?"

"As much as I hate decaf, I should probably go with it," answered Cynthia. She was enjoying how Sid went about ordering for her. Mrs. Wilson had explained that this was a dance of sorts by which a man kept his attention focused on the lady he was escorting. The elderly woman had insisted that it had nothing to do with keeping a woman helpless or in her place.

Turning to the waitress, Sid said, "We'd like two decafs, please."

The waitress didn't know what to make of the exchange. She'd written down the order for the decaf as soon as Cynthia had stated her preference. After she left, Cynthia turned to Sid and commented, "You remember your lessons from Mrs. Wilson quite well."

"Thank you. She is a wonderful instructor. It is a shame that more people are not interested in learning the gentile arts," said Sid.

Raising an eyebrow, she said, "You were a soldier at one time and now you claim to be an adventurer in Crossroads. Why are you so concerned with good manners?"

Surprised by the question, Sid answered, "There are a number of reasons, although two reasons stand out the most. A soldier or adventurer stands a good chance of becoming a brutal thug if he doesn't pay attention to things such as honor, discipline, and chivalry. Manners are an important part of that. Brutal thugs don't say please or thank you; they take without asking.

"My Uncle Gerald used to say that it is far easier to make friends than it is to vanquish enemies. Manners are important in making friends. They make you aware of the intrinsic humanity of the other person and, thus, they remind you to consistently show respect. A lack of manners can create enemies. I'd rather have friends than enemies, hence I pay attention to my manners."

The answer surprised Cynthia and yet made a great deal of sense to her. She asked, "Have you ever wondered if the reason manners are dying is because people have stopped vanquishing enemies?"

"That's an interesting question."

The waitress arrived with their coffee cups and a thermal carafe filled with decaf. She set them on the table and asked, "Would you care for cream?"

Sid turned to Cynthia and asked, "Would you care for some cream?"

"No, thank you," she replied.

Turning to the waitress, Sid said, "No, thank you."

Irritated at what she considered to be an overbearing treatment of his date, the waitress said, "She can answer for herself."

"I was not aware that she hadn't answered for herself. She was quite clear in stating that she didn't want cream," replied Sid as he picked up the carafe and poured a cup of coffee for Cynthia.

"Thank you," said Cynthia when he set the cup in front of her before filling his own.

Slightly put off by his response, the waitress asked, "Would you care to order something now?"

Sid asked, "Would you care for a dessert?"

"No, thank you. I fear that I don't have an appetite," answered Cynthia with a smile. Although she was pleased with the attention that she was getting, it was clear that his behavior was irritating the waitress.

"How about you?" asked the waitress turning to Sid.

"The lady and I are fine with just coffee. Thank you."

The waitress started to walk away when Cynthia said, "Please, hold on a moment."

Turning back to face Cynthia, the waitress did her best to ignore Sid. A two-coffee order wasn't going to produce much of a tip, so she stopped her attempts at being polite. She asked, "Did you change your mind?"

"No. I just wanted you to know that my companion is a perfect gentleman. He is treating me like a lady. He's not being rude or disrespectful. He is attending to my desires and treating them with greater importance than his. And I must tell you that I am perfectly delighted to be treated in this manner," said Cynthia.

The waitress stared at her for a moment and then turned to look at Sid. Confused, the young woman said, "Okay."

"Thank you," replied Cynthia feeling in complete charge of the situation.

The baffled waitress walked away with the understanding that the 'thank you' had been a dismissal. She had never been so politely and firmly dismissed in her life.

Once she was gone, Cynthia looked thoughtful for a moment before she asked, "Don't you find it odd that good manners are interpreted as rudeness?"


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The End
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Posted:  2005-06-02
Last Modified: 2006-04-22 / 09:11:31 pm
Version: 1.20
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