The concerted efforts of Hermes, Amy, and Delta failed to sway Zoidberg's decision. "See that stone column with the engravings on it?" said the lobster. "That's how the Selvans keep track of time."

Amy stepped onto the mostly bare tablet on which the column stood, and over which it cast a long shadow. "There's only one mark on it," she observed, pointing at the notch with her foot. "Shouldn't there be twelve? They do have twelve hours in a day like we do, right?"

"They're not quite that sophisticated," said Zoidberg. "When the shadow touches the notch, it's time for tea. And after tea, the fight."

"Omigosh," said Amy, measuring the distance between the shadow and the mark with her toes. "That's only…four inches away!"

"I can't believe you'd approve of such a barbaric ritual," said Hermes.

"We Decapods have been observing this 'barbaric ritual' for more than eighteen years now," said Zoidberg, "and you humans have practiced it as recently as the year 2000 A.D."

"2000 A.D.?" said Hermes incredulously. "Where are you getting your information, mon?"

"From that documentary with Russell Crowe," replied the crustacean. "You know the one I'm talking about."

Amy excused herself, and the remaining three wandered into the nearby forest. Zoidberg idly plucked a mochuka from a tall bush, which alarmed Delta. "You really should stop eating that fruit, John," said the fembot. "The parasites may be enhancing your abilities, but I'm afraid they're also affecting your mind."

"There's nothing wrong with my mind," Zoidberg assured her. "I'm still the same Great God Kootooloo I've always been."

While the lobster-god's back was turned, Hermes looked about warily. No native guards were visible, only trees and a few huts in the distance. He nodded furtively toward Delta. "It's time," he mouthed.

The pair acted without hesitation. Delta stretched out her arm, grasping Zoidberg's throat with her corrugated fingers. While she held him in place, Hermes withdrew a surgical scalpel from inside his jacket, reared back his hand, and plunged the blade into Zoidberg's lower back where he expected a kidney to be located. "I'm very sorry about this," he stated.

Zoidberg gave him a look of disappointment as pain wracked his body. "Et tu, Hermé?" he groaned. "Then Zoidberg falls!"

Hermes yanked out the scalpel, and Delta propped up the victim's back as his knees buckled and gave way. "I hope you didn't hit anything vital," she said, blood from Zoidberg's wound gushing over her metallic arms.

"I spent the last fifteen minutes studying Decapod anatomy," said Hermes, grabbing the lobster's two-toed feet. "Now let's get him to the ship."

They had only carried their alien friend a few paces when they heard his voice, clear as a bell: "You can put me down now."

Startled, Hermes released his grasp on Zoidberg's ankles. Delta, once she had pushed him into a standing position, saw to her disbelief that there was no trace of the scalpel wound in the crustacean's back, only smooth scarlet skin. "Fantastic," she muttered.

Zoidberg stepped back, eyeing his two attackers with contempt. "I thought you were my friends," he said. "Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown, indeed."

"Don't think this is over, mon," said Hermes, shaking his fist. "We won't stand by while you turn Leela into a killer. We'll stop you any way we can."

"I'm afraid I have to take Hermes' side, John," said Delta.

Zoidberg seethed, but managed to speak rationally. "I'm a compassionate god," he told them. "A lesser god would reward disloyalty with death, but I shall content myself with merely banishing you."

"No!" cried Delta. "You wouldn't!"

"You may remain among us long enough to witness the makupitu," Zoidberg continued. "When it ends, I'll perform the ceremony of banishment, and you will be classified as enemies of the people. As I, the Great God Kootooloo, have spoken, so shall it be done."

The indignant lobster trudged away toward the village. Hermes turned to Delta, shook his head, and remarked, "He's loonier than a Canadian dollar, mon."


Her shackles snipped off by Zoidberg's claws, Leela reveled in the freedom of her fists by repeatedly punching a large, suspended sack of alien beans. It's a good thing Mildred liked going to the health club, she thought. With her strength and agility, and my Arcturan kung fu, I should have no trouble taking down Kupura. When she was done with the beanbag, she tried sparring with some of the weapons hanging on the walls of the training room, such as a spear, a short-handled ax, and a battered iron sword. In the end she concluded that she would do best fighting with bare hands.

The training facility had two bamboo doors, one leading to the outside, the other to what the natives called the gimani. This was a large arena with rough wooden planks for seats, and a sandy field in the center where tests of strength and cunning took place. Everyone in the village, and many from neighboring villages, had gathered to brave the uncomfortable seats and witness the battle between the fiery-haired goddess Zogax and the undefeated champion, Kupura.

Zoidberg, wearing a lavish red robe, sat as close to the action as possible, his toes touching the sand from his front-row seat. It was a spot reserved for tribal leaders and dignitaries, distinguished from the other seats only by a small canopy built for shelter from the suns. His friends Amy, Hermes, and Delta sat together in the highest row, not wanting to be conspicuous.

"Poor Leela," said Amy. "Even if she backs out of the fight, where will that leave her? She'll have to resist the killing urge for the rest of her life."

"Can't you find a way to turn the chip in her head back on?" Hermes asked the fembot next to him.

"It would require a long series of special command frequencies," replied Delta. "Compared to the effort involved, cracking Raven's command protocol is like looking for a dollar store in Pittsburgh."

Zoidberg stood, and all the villagers fell into a reverential silence. Raising his gem-encrusted claws, the lobster-god proclaimed, "Let the makupitu begin!"

Two doors on the opposite end of the gimani opened, and the combatants, Leela and Kupura, strode onto the field. Leela had abandoned Mildred's blouse and sneakers in favor of a brown tube top and bare feet, while Kupura, who loomed above her by more than a foot, wore only his loincloth and shaggy beard. The spectators flew into an excited panic, most screaming, "Kupura! Kupura!" while a few sided with the underdog, crying, "Zogax! Zogax!"

When they reached the center of the arena, Kupura stood stiffly and saluted by raising his arm and pointing his hand at Zoidberg. "Zamuki golumph pakata!" he bellowed respectfully.

Leela, uncertain of Kupura's meaning but desirous to maintain the spirit of the occasion, made a similar gesture. Raising her hand in the same manner, she exclaimed, "We who are about to die salute you!"

The two fighters turned and faced each other. The audience became quiet again, except for a few impatient murmurs. Then Zoidberg made a downward sweep with his claw, accompanied by the utterance, "Fight!"

Leela and Kupura began to circle each other. At the top of the arena Amy and Hermes gritted their teeth, wishing the fight would stop but also morbidly curious to see the outcome.

I hope his genitals are as sensitive as a human male's, thought Leela. As long as Kupura's arms were, she would need to execute a flawless flying kick to safely connect her foot with his groin. She sprang forward, her right leg stretched out, her left knee straightening forcefully—so far, so good.

Not so good. Kupura's hands clamped tightly around her upraised leg, and in no time at all she was spinning like a ballerina. When her opponent let go, centrifugal force carried her halfway across the field. She landed painfully on her shoulder and rolled three times before stopping.

That was stupid, she told herself. He had me. He could have easily broken my leg, but I guess he wants to give the natives their money's worth.

Kupura paced slowly towards her, a triumphant grin on his face, as the transfixed crowd watched.

Rage built up within Leela's heart, and she welcomed it. Fury, she thought. I am fury.


To be continued