Time had not been well to this dilapidated city. It had once been a lively town, with shops and homes and parks, but for years the well-worn streets have long since been empty, the homes and storefronts abandoned. The statues and fountains were crumbling, the plants were overgrowing their rotting wooden planters, and no window in town was uncracked.
Yet today, those empty streets were full and active once more. But not with the peoples who once lived here; not with the shop owners hawking their wares, not with the children tugging on their parents' sleeves. No, this time the streets were overflowing with machines; beetle-like robots, their shiny black backs visible as far as the eye could see.
And in the middle of a clearing of these bots, standing calmly, was a man. This man, clad in a white robe and wide straw hat, was a stranger to this city as well, but he was not a stranger to the situation he found himself in. Still with an almost surreal calm, he removed his hat and tucked it securely in his robe. He lifted his head and scanned the scene around him.
Two, four, six... seven hundred. The hero cracked a smile. He would have to sharpen his blade tonight.
The insectine robots reared themselves up on their hind legs in a concentric wave from the man in white. With a slow scratching noise, he withdrew the sword from the scabbard at his waist, never taking his eyes off of the red optical sensors of the foremost beetle.
With a silent signal, the three innermost robots moved in for an attack. The samurai raised his sword into position, and-
"Eeeeyyyahhh!" The ground shook slightly as a large, rotund man in plaid jumped from a nearby building between the samurai and his foes. With three deft strikes from his own long, wide sword, six robot beetle halves separated with showers of sparks and splurts of oil.
The samurai was stunned, but when he realized who his new accomplice was, he smiled. The large man caught his eye and smiled back. Both wielding their weapons, they positioned themselves back to back in the center of the robots. Words were unnecessary; they both knew what would come next.
The rest of the bots held back a moment, their computerized brains recalculating their plan; but soon, the nearest ones to the heroes moved in for another strike.
No robot survived.
"You ninny!" the Scotsman chided in his hearty brogue. "Trying to have fun without me, eh?"
"Friend!" the samurai exclaimed, instinctively starting a bow, then switching to an extended hand. "It is good to see you again! Will you join me for a beverage?"
"Oh, I'd love to, mate," the large man said as he shook hands firmly, "but there's no time for that now. Please, come with me. I have a boat waiting for us at the sea."
The samurai frowned as he followed the path the Scotsman was making through the robotic carnage. "Oh no. Your wife isn't in trouble again, is she?"
The Scotsman let out a hearty laugh. "No, my girl is just as healthy and beautiful as ever. No, this time, I've got some good news! Come on, let's get to the docks and I'll explain the whole thing on the way home. Ah, home..."
The Scotsman told the story as they sailed.
A rambunctious night of lightning storms had started a fire in a dense forest near the Scotsman's lodge, at the edge of a lake. After it died out, a small stone pillar, previously obscured by the thick foliage, had been found among the ashen trees. The pillar was covered with runes, but they were of an ancient script—similar to those the Scotsman had on his sword—and nobody from the lodge was able to read them.
Word of the pillar spread southward and was brought to the attention of one Professor Rourke, a learned man of a village upstream known for its poor but esteemed school of higher learning. Though the Professor's knowledge—and personality—was eccentric, his specialty was the history of this land, and he was always on the lookout for new finds. His colleague had hardly finished his sentence before the Professor was on his horse, galloping furiously north, to the Scotsman's lodge. When he arrived, he asked no time be wasted on hospitality, and demanded to be taken to the pillar immediately.
Once it was in sight, the Professor almost giddily hopped right up to it as fast as his old knees would allow. He tucked a tuft of white hair under his derby, then ran his fingers over the characters chiseled into the stone pillar as he translated them aloud. "In this lake was a small island where a strange doorway was found. This doorway had the dangerous capability to transport people to other times in the past or future; thus, it could only be used with the King's permission, and was guarded heavily. However, one night, powerful forces shook the Earth, and in the morning, the island and everything that was on it was gone, sunk beneath the surface of the lake, and our people were unable to find the doorway. May future generations who may find it be aware of its dangerous power."
"So, ya see, laddie, if we can just find that portal, maybe we can get you home!"
"Yes, perhaps." The samurai leaned over the stern of the ship, looking out over the horizon.
"Well, gee, laddie, I thought you'd be a little more excited than all that."
The samurai smiled. "I'm sorry. I appreciate it, I really do. But you have to understand that I've come across a dozen time portals so far; and whenever I find one, Aku shows up at the last minute and ruins things somehow."
"Aku! Ha!" The Scotsman spat vigorously into the sea. "He won't be causin' any trouble now. Leave it to me."
The samurai burped, causing three large bubbles to rise to the surface.
His return was welcomed at the lodge with a celebration unlike those he had ever seen before. After a bone-crunching hug from the Scotsman's wife, a meal was begun promptly, of various dishes that the samurai found quite tasty, as long as he didn't ask too many questions about what he was eating. The meal lasted almost three hours; and the samurai, not wanting to seem a rude guest, ate and drank as much as what was set before him as he could. The jubilations were far from over, however; after the mealtime, the crowd told boisterous stories and jokes, and played lively fetches on the bagpipes, always accompanied by dancing—thrice that night the samurai found himself clutched to the great bosom of the Scotsman's wife as she swung him about the room. Even the visiting Professor, the stout old man, joined in on the fun; indeed, he knew some of the raunchiest jokes. It was midnight before the jubilations would let up, only to continue (albeit on a smaller scale) the next morning. The samurai's stomach was more full than it had ever been in his life.
Presently, the samurai was swimming under the murky waters of the lake, searching for any signs of the time portal or the island it was on. A long hose extending back to the beach allowed him to breathe—an innovation of the Professor. Though he was only into his second hour of searching, things were not going well; the glass mask covering his eyes worked well, but the water was so thick and dirty that he could hardly see the hand at the end of his arm. Though the lake was not very large, it would take weeks to search it at this rate. So far, the samurai had found nothing more interesting than dirt, rocks, more dirt, and an occasional tree branch or rogue oar.
No, this isn't working at all, the samurai thought. Maybe…
His thought was interrupted by the horrendous sensation of water filling his lungs.
With all the force his limbs and full stomach could muster, the samurai rocketed towards the surface. What had gone wrong? He coughed furiously, trying to get the dirty water out of his lungs. Once he regained his senses, he looked around him, trying to figure out why the hose had failed. His sharp eyes saw that the hose was still leading from the surface into the water… Standing next to it was the Professor, a curious look on his face.
"Professor? What happened to the hose?"
Silently, with as little movement as possible, the Professor gestured to behind the samurai with his hand. Quickly, the samurai turned around. Something not unlike a wet tree trunk obscured his view.
Why is there a tree in the middle of a lake?
The samurai's eyes followed the trunk up, up, up. only to find, at the top, a head. A head with red glowing eyes, wide nostrils, and a section of hose dangling out of its mouth.
Oh.
Right about now, the beast's slow-working brain had decided that there was a good chance that that the funny fundoshi-clad thing in front of it might be a tastier and more filling snack than a bit of old hose. With a slow but strong movement, it bent its long neck down toward the samurai, its jaws opening widely exposing a set of very large and razor-sharp teeth.
Deftly, the samurai dived under the water as the snapping jaws splashed into the waters above him. Furiously he swam for shore, towards where his robe and sword lay. When the water was shallow enough, he ran with a high step, the monster's head on its long neck arcing toward him. He looked over his shoulder, then dived for shore as the jaws once again snapped behind him. The samurai rolled, then regained his bearings and ran, snatching at his sword.
"Aye, made yourself a friend, I see," the Professor joked.
"This is no time for jokes, Professor! Run! I shall defeat the monster."
"No! Please, don't harm her!"
"But... But why?"
"I've heard stories about these creatures!" the Professor squealed giddily. "Ancient beasts that live in the lakes in our country. Some people think they're just myths, but now I—"
"Look out!" The samurai leaped and pushed the old man aside, just as the jaws snapped above him. The tattered remnants of the Professor's hat slowly floated down through the air.
"Of course, much can be learned by dissection as well…" the Professor stilted as he pulled himself up.
The samurai smiled as he gathered speed, then did a flying leap at the beast's head, his sword held high.
When the battle was over, the samurai had another fresh scar to add to his collection, and had had another lungful or two of water as well. But the beast was far worse off.
After an hour's rest, the samurai explained the difficulty he had had searching in the water to the Professor.
"Hmm," the Professor scratched his un-derby'd head contemplatively. "Maybe we could use an underwater light of some sort—or I could make a lens that—"
"No need, Professor," the samurai said. "I think I've got an idea. How far is it downstream to the ocean?" he asked of the Scotsman, who had come to join Jack and the Professor when he had heard of the excitement.
"'Bout a half an hour, if ye take a rowboat downstream."
"Great! I can be back before dark."
"Well, it takes a bit longer to row upstream-"
"I won't have to row." The samurai, still in his fundoshi, dove into the lake, swimming towards the sizable river that ran out of it. "I'll be back soon!"
"Hey! Don't you want a boat?" The Scotsman yelled, but the samurai was already out of earshot. Scratching his glanced at the Professor, who merely shrugged his shoulders and went back to inspecting his new and quite dead lake beast specimen.
When the samurai reached the rocky beach, he was at first worried that he wouldn't find one, and silently cursed himself for leaving the one tucked into his yukata behind. But a moment of searching finally turned one up; an intact conch shell. The samurai waded into the cold ocean surf, then held the shell to his lips, and, manipulating his fingers in a well-practiced pattern, sounded a few melodic notes into the water.
That should do it. Lazily, he waded back to the beach, cleared himself a sandy spot, and let his mind wander.
An hour and a half later, the samurai's meditations were interrupted by a strange new sound among those of the waves and gulls. The samurai brought himself to his feet just in time to see an odd green man with three horns drive up to shore in an organic, fish-like submarine.
The Triseraquin stepped out of the submarine, smiling. "Hey, Jack. What'll it be? The usual?"
"No, actually, this time I am wondering if I may borrow that." The samurai pointed at the odd vehicle. "I can have it back to you in two days' time."
"But of course, Jack," the green man said with a thick accent. "Take all the time you—" He was interrupted by the sound of the samurai's stomach growling voraciously.
The samurai blushed. "Oh, and, uh… perhaps a little of the usual."
The Triseraquin smiled even broader than before as pulled a large platter of lobster, fish and other undersea delicacies from the vehicle, while the samurai snapped two sticks off of a driftwood branch.
With the submarine's speed and light-emitting phosphorescent eyes, Jack was able to cover more of the lake's floor much faster. Jack was excited at first, but slowly he became discouraged again. Without the submarine, all he could see was a little dirt; now, with the submarine, he could see a whole lot of dirt much more clearly.
But then, something gave him pause. The normally flat lake bottom began to swell a bit, and then a bit more, until it was almost a good five meters above the bottom of the lake. And there, among the sparse waterlogged remnants of a small forest, tilted and half-buried in dirt and muck, was the unmistakable shape of a time portal; its ornate oval-shaped frame made of some substance with the density of rock but glint of black metal.
The combined strengths of the samurai and the Scotsman were great, but not enough; it took almost the whole clan to pull the heavy portal out of the mire via a long rope. It had been brought to shore and quickly wiped clean and inspected by the Professor, and now, a crowd had gathered around it. By then the sun had set completely, and large torches illuminated the scene.
"Well, let's give her a go, eh?" the Professor said with a smile toward Jack. Slowly, he dropped a lever marked "Activation" in the ancient language.
bzzzsnap! wrreeeee… The hollow round frame of the time portal flickered, then filled with that all-too-familiar oscillating black and white pattern. The crowd erupted in cheers. The smile on the samurai face beamed… then slowly dimmed as did the image in the frame, growing gradually more transparent as the machine's noise faded.
"No!" he shouted, running full speed towards the portal. He dived through head first… but it was too late. The portal had already lost too much power. The samurai flew right through the ring and instead of feeling the sickening bodily twist of time travel, he felt the ground meet his face as he landed headfirst onto the turf on the other side.
He pounded his fist on the dirt, then pulled himself up, a familiar despair in his eyes.
"There, there, m'boy," the Professor said as he slapped the samurai on the back comfortingly. "At least we know it used to work. You've had a long day. Tell ya what; why don't you turn in for the night, eh? I'll take a look at 'er overnight and see if I can't get 'er workin' again."
The samurai sighed. A bath and a bed would feel pretty good right about now. "Don't you want to rest as well?"
The Professor chucked. "I'm an old man; don't worry about me. I'll get all my sleeping done when I'm dead!"
So, with that, the samurai retired for the night, leaving the Professor to inspect the portal under the light of the full moon.
The samurai rose before the sun.
As he came around the corner to the clearing by the lake, his heart filled with dread. The Professor was there, but he was sprawled out on the ground in an odd position.
The samurai dashed to the old man and shook him gently, then firmly. "Professor? Are you… are you all right?"
The Professor snorted, then cracked open his eyes. "Aaah, hello, Jack. No, I must have nodded off…"
"But you said you would only sleep when you were dead, and I thought…"
"Bah! Never mind what I said now. Look at this." From a pocket on the inside of his jacket, the Professor produced a perfectly clear, perfectly polished crystal, about as long as a hand's breadth.
The samurai took the gem and studied it. "What is this? A diamond?"
"No, my boy. It has a different structure than a diamond." The Professor's body creaked and snapped as he pulled himself to his feet. He plucked a pair of glasses from his jacket pocket and slipped them on as he examined the crystal again; they made his eyes appear to be the size of tea saucers. "I found it in what appears to be the portal's power conduit. I think it might be a depleted power source of some sort, but I've never seen anything like it in my entire career."
Jack studied the crystal further, scratching his chin. Something about it was oddly familiar.
"So if that won't work, maybe we can find another source of power. I think I may be able to—"
"Wait! I have!"
"You have what, my boy?"
"I have seen gems like this before; only the ones I have seen are red."
"Red, you say?" He examined the crystal again. "Hmm, perhaps depletion alters its chrominance properties… Where did you see them? Are they nearby?"
"Oh, no, they're very far away, but I have some friends who may be able to help us. I made their acquaintance very long ago, and they gave me this…" The samurai produced a small box from inside his robe. The box had a small switch on it next to a light, as well as an extractable antenna, which the samurai pulled out to its full length. "They said that if I ever needed their aid, all I had to do was to turn this switch, and this box would make a sound that would signal them."
The Professor took the box from him, examining it from all sides. "Fascinating!"
"You may wish to cover your ears," the samurai said as he took the box back. "I have not had use for this device before, and the sound it makes may be very loud."
"That's sound advice, my lad," the Professor chuckled as he stepped away and plugged his fingers in his ears.
The samurai held the box out at arm's length, steeled his own ears for the powerful noise, and flicked the switch with his thumb.
The small orange light next to the switch lit up, but no noise was heard.
The samurai flicked the switch off, then on again. Again, nothing. He tried again, then several more times in succession. The Professor, watching, unplugged his ears. "Did you do it yet? I didn't hear anything."
"Neither did I," the samurai said, perturbed. "The light lights up, but it does not emit a noise as the dogs said it would." He flicked the switch a few more times, then threw the box aside.
"Dogs, you say?"
Suddenly, with a streak of light, a small rocketship appeared in the clearing, followed by a long, loud rumble a second later. The glass top to the ship slid back, and out came a thin blue dog in a bow tie, safari hat and monocle.
"Jack!" The dog's tail wagged furiously as he jumped to the ground, wagging his tail.
"Hello, Rothchild." The samurai shook the dog's paw. "But how did you know to come? I thought the signal was not working." The samurai picked up the box again.
"Whatever do you mean, my boy? We heard it just YEOW!" Jack had flicked the switch back on, and now Rothy was holding his paws over his ears and cringing in pain. "I DARE SAY, MY BOY, COULD YOU PLEASE TURN IT OFF?"
The samurai flicked the switch back off. "But how could you hear it? I cannot hear a thing."
"Wavelengths!" the Professor exclaimed. "Different sound frequencies!" Again he snatched the box from Jack's hands and began examining it. "Can I take it apart?" He didn't bother for the answer as he pulled a screwdriver from his jacket and began prying away.
Rothy watched for a moment, then cleared his throat. "So, Jack… To what do I owe the pleasure of this occasion?"
"Do you remember the—"
Just then, the Scotsman jumped out from the forest, his sword drawn. "What? Where is it?" His head looked around furiously; spotting the rocket with its landing gear deployed, he did a flying leap with his sword over his head—"YAAA!"—and sliced it cleanly in two. Unfortunately, the resulting explosion forever warped his handiwork—and blew him back several meters as well.
Rothchild's mouth fell agape.
"Have you gone mad?" the samurai yelled as the Scotsman pulled himself up.
"That noise! It was that monster!"
"What monster? What noise?"
"That squealing noise. Didn't you hear it? It must have been that beast! I came as fast as I could, but I was still in bed and had to get dressed first. If I came in my skivvies, it would not have been a pretty sight—"
"That was no beast, you fool!" Rothy said, as angrily as his monarchial accent could emote. "That was my spaceship!"
"Whose spaceship?" The Scotsman looked around, trying to identify the speaker.
The dog cleared his throat again, and finally the Scotsman eyed him. Again he drew his sword, this time pointing it at Rothy's throat. "A talkin' demon dog!"
"Good heavens! Wh-…" The dog regained his composure and cleared his throat once more.
The samurai stayed his friend's sword. "No. Please. He is a friend."
"I dare say, Jack," Rothchild said, "you have met some of the most odd creatures in your adventures—"
"Oh, and you're one to talk, ye mangy mongrel!"
"Well, I never—I most certainly do not have mange! And I prefer the term mixed breed, thank you very much—and only the finest breeds—"
"Stop! Please…" The samurai held out his hands between the two. Again, he turned to the dog. "This request may be a bit difficult now that your ship has been destroyed, but I was wondering if you may be able to lend me one of those power crystals the dogs used to mine near Central Hub."
The dog sighed; the latest of his many expressions of exasperation in the last minute. "Actually, it's probably easier." He walked over to the remains of his rocket and rummaged around for a bit. After a moment, he walked back with a red crystal in his teeth. "Here you go." He dropped it into the samurai's hand. "Keep it. I clearly have no use for it at the moment."
"Thank you!" The samurai turned to the Professor, who was sitting on the ground with the pieces of the signal box spread out around him. "Professor?"
"Confound it," the Professor grunted. "I can't seem to get this back together…"
Rothchild sighed again.
The samurai rubbed the dog slobber off of the crystal (out of eyeshot of Rothcild, of course) and handed it to the old man. "Do you think this crystal may power the portal?"
"Hmm…" The Professor examined the crystal in his hands, the mid-day sun glinting in his glasses. "Well, won't know 'til we try, will we?" He walked back over to the machine, then slid back a small panel in its frame. He snapped the red crystal into place where he had found the clear one the night before, then slid the panel shut again. "Let's give it a go!" he said, as he flipped the activation lever again.
bzzzsnap! wrreeeee… Once again, the frame of the portal was filled with the circular black and white circles. Only this time… they stayed. The samurai's heart leapt towards the sky, and so did he. The Scotsman reached for his pipes; realizing he had forgot to bring them, he simply broke out in song. Even Rothy's tail started wagging again.
Jack once again shook paws with Rothchild, then with the Professor, thanking them both profusely for their help. He then turned to the Scotsman.
"Please, friend, come with me. Help me destroy the foundations of evil in this world."
"Gee, I'd love to, friend, but I can't." The Scotsman looked a bit sheepish. "I've got my duties to me clan, not to mention the wife—"
"Say no more. I understand."
"But, hey, I'll be with you in spirit, laddie!" He punched the samurai in the shoulder, and the samurai punched back.
With a deep breath and a calm smile, the samurai turned towards the portal, ready to walk through it and finally fulfill the mission he had been training for his whole life.
He took a step.
Suddenly, the air began to throb to an all-too-familiar pulse; the ground began to vibrate, ever so softly.
The samurai's heart dropped into his gut. No.
With the noise of a thousand conflagrations, a great black mass sprouted out from the ground between the samurai and the portal. As if liquid, it twisted and swirled, then took the form of the tall demon wizard, eyes ablaze.
"Aku!" The samurai unsheathed his sword, as did the Scotsman. The dog and the Professor fled for the forest, both barking wildly.
"Hello, puny samurai," the wizard enunciated. "What could you be up to this time? Oh? What's this?" His huge clawed hands picked up the large, heavy portal. He had truthfully been monitoring these goings-on for several hours now, but preferred to wait for just the right moment to make his dramatic entrance and crush the samurai.
No. The samurai was not about to let his chance be taken away from him; not this time. With a running start, he leapt his highest leap at Aku, his sword high above his head; alas, the wizard was in good form this time, as he rapidly morphed into a bird-like creature, still holding the portal in his talons, and flew out of Jack's reach.
"Why, Jack, I do believe this constitutes illicit usage of a time portal! Tsk tsk tsk… I made a law against that, you know." And with that, he squeezed the portal between his claws.
It did not break.
"Ooh?" Aku's eyes were wide as he squeezed harder. The samurai, seeing Aku's foolish attempt, smirked and sheathed his sword again. Temporarily ignoring the samurai, he morphed back into his wizard form and attempted to crack the portal between both his hands, but it didn't even bend. "What's this?"
"It's emboldened with ancient runes, just like me sword," the Scotsman chuckled. "You can squeeze 'til your eyebrows go out and you won't break it."
The wizard brought his head down to the Scotsman's level, eyeing him. "And who are you? One of the puny samurai's buddies, I assume?"
The Scotsman punched the wizard in his very large eye. It hurt the Scotsman more than it did Aku, but it got his point across.
The wizard reeled back up. "No matter. I have a proven method for getting rid of that which I cannot destroy." And with that, he screamed a blood-curdling scream the samurai had heard once before.
Black and white rings erupted from the wizard's mouth, forming a undulating column on the ground far away from the samurai. The samurai wondered why the wizard had missed him by such a great deal. Then he realized, and ran towards the column as fast as his wooden sandals would take him.
The wizard flung the portal, still activated, into the column of light.
The samurai made a diving leap, but, for the second time in as many days, he was too late. The rings disappeared, taking the portal with them, thousands of years into the future, and the samurai went face-first into the turf and dirt.
Though he was on the verge of tears, the samurai quickly pulled himself up and charged the wizard, his sword drawn. "Akuuuuu!"
"Oh dear, I do believe this is where I make my exit!" the wizard said smarmily. He morphed into his bird form to once again dodge a leap by the samurai. The samurai landed and prepared to throw his sword into the bird, but with a swirl of black mass and a guttural "Goodbye, foolish samurai," the wizard was gone.
The samurai's sword clattered onto the rocky lakeside.
And so, once again, the hero found himself on the road… Always searching, always thinking, always praying for his chance. He doesn't know it yet, but one day, very soon, the samurai will have it.
THE END
OUTTAKES:
"Hey, Jack," the Scotsman asked, flecks of food flinging out of his stuffed mouth. "What is that you're eating there?"
"It's tekkamaki, a delicacy from my homeland. It's raw fish and cold rice wrapped in seaweed and topped with salmon eggs."
"Eeehyugh, that's disgusting!" he grunted as he crammed another forkful of haggis into his mouth. "And how can you eat with those goofy little sticks, anyway?"
"Oh, no, they're very far away, but I have some friends who may be able to help us. I made their acquaintance very long ago, and they gave me this…" The samurai produced a grappling hook from inside his robe. "No, that is not it," he said, as he threw it aside. Next he pulled out his straw hat. "No;" this was thrown aside as well. He pulled out a conch shell, delicately setting it aside as to not break it. He pulled out a bow and a quiver of arrows—"No…" and a well-worn ball—"No…"—and set these aside as well. "It must be in here somewhere," he said sheepishly. In quick succession, the samurai pulled a Swiss Army knife, a key for a forgotten lock, a tuna sandwich, a bumper sticker reading "Visualize Whirled Peas," a 3/16ths wrench, a book he had forgotten to return to the Library of Alexandria, a pair of lacquered chopsticks, the bumper from a an Aku-brand flying Akoup, fourteen shekels, a Japanese/Italian dictionary, a comb, an illicit magazine from medieval England, a tin cup, a toothbrush, a bottle of Aku Cola, a Bee-Gees 8-track, and, finally, a small box. "Ah, here it is."
