Chapter 15: El Paso (II)
"Colette, get up already, I need your help!" her mother shouted from downstairs.
The redhead ignored the call, focusing on the mirror in front of her. She stared obsessively at her own reflection, paying attention to every negative detail about her. Her chubby face, her freckles, her broad, stubby nose, her lack of curves and her plump, short figure. She had inherited her father's body and her mother's facial features, a combination that seemed like some kind of cruel divine joke.
She brought her hands to her cheeks, massaging them and imagining what she would look like with a thinner face. Her appearance was something that dismayed her for as long as she could remember, even recalling the fateful day she earned the nickname troll girl, a title that haunted her throughout her childhood, adolescence and even adulthood.
"Colette!" her mother shouted again.
"I will be right there!" she responded immediately, startled by the sudden increase in tone.
The sun had not even risen, but the activity at the inn never ceased. Her father had been away for almost two weeks now due to a last minute trip to Polove, so now it was just her and her mother to attend to the endless amount of travelers who required food, bed, and supplies. They used to have workers to help them, but some financial difficulties caused by a few failed businesses of her father had forced them to fend for themselves to attend to the crowd and thus generate profits. Being the only inn in town was not only a great source of income, but also a constant stress.
Colette quickly proceeded to get ready, exchanging her nightgown for her work attire. Before leaving she pulled her hair back and put the headscarf on her head, taking one last look in the mirror in the hope that she might look more attractive.
"Good morning, mother," Colette said as she came down the stairs while putting on her work apron.
"Morning? Do you realize how late it is? It could easily be the afternoon!" her mother replied with intensity as she approached her with a basket of clothes and sheets so large that it almost looked like a tower.
Colette frowned at that comment. Through the window she could see that the sun wasn't even peeking over the horizon, barely being dawn hours.
"I need you to take these outside to the laundry room, you will have to wash them as soon as possible and put them to dry. You will have to do it quickly, because after that I want you to milk the cows, feed the pigs, collect the eggs from the hens, check the condition of the guests' horses, and once you finish that you will immediately come to the kitchen to help me prepare the food," her mother indicated as she handed her the heavy basket.
She was overwhelmed by the sudden torrent of orders, especially since she had barely managed to sleep last night, so her mind was not completely fresh.
"B-but—"
"But what?" her mother interrupted her as she folded her arms.
Her mother was a tall woman, even taller than her father, with an intense, fierce and stern face that did justice to her personality. Colette had inherited her hair from her, but unfortunately she had also inherited her father's passive attitude, causing her not only to be unable to stand up to her, but to most people.
"N-nothing," she whispered as she looked down.
"I thought so," her mother said. "Now hurry up, we do not have all day."
Her mother walked away towards the kitchen, ready for the titanic task of preparing food for all the guests who would soon wake up. Colette could only sigh in resignation as she made her way to the back door of the inn, having to push it with her back due to her busy hands. The morning cold was atrocious, but she was forced to endure it as she made her way to the outside laundry room.
"It is another day," she muttered to herself to cheer herself up as she entered the laundry room.
The redhead contemplated the other piles of clothes left over from last night accumulated in one of the corners of the room, which added to what she was carrying in the basket would mean a titanic amount of laundry. She sighed heavily as she rolled up her sleeves, preparing herself for what was going to be agony.
As she washed the sheets and scrubbed the dirty clothes she couldn't help but think about her future, and whether the family business would be all she would ever know. Most women her age had already found someone to marry, some being lucky enough to be able to attract the attention of an adventurer or merchant who had taken them out of town and somewhere more exciting.
Years of bullying and ridicule from the other girls in town had sparked a frequent fantasy for Colette, one in which some handsome and dreamy hero would rescue her from that town and lead her to a life of adventure and romance. It was an escapist fantasy in which she frequently lost herself, often daydreaming about something that would never happen. Despite the fact that they were childish fantasies not suitable for an adult woman, Colette couldn't help but have them. It was partly what allowed her to carry the monotony of her day to day life, especially since she now had no one to talk to about her problems. The one she once considered her best friend had been gone for several years now, and the hope of seeing him again diminished with each passing day.
"Today is colder than usual," she complained as she left the room to to hang the wet clothes
Despite the dreadful morning chill and the melancholies of her mind, Colette efficiently carried out her morning work. In a matter of barely a few hours she had finished scrubbing and washing the sheets and clothes, which now hung to dry in the slowly rising sun. She gazed at the fruits of her labor with some pride, nodding to herself for a job well done.
"Colette!" her mother's scream resounded, causing the morning birds to fly away in fright. "Come here right now!"
Hearing that filled Colette with dread. That scream sounded urgent, perhaps signifying that she had taken longer than expected to wash and had fallen behind in her other chores. Already resigned to what was going to be a major scolding, she ran into the inn to get it over with.
"Did something happen?" she asked warily as she passed through the door, entering back into the inn.
She expected that when she walked in, the first thing she would see would be her mother's angry face, but instead she found something unexpected: her father walking through the entrance.
"Colette!" her father said cheerfully as he held out his arms. "Dear child!"
"Father!" Colette exclaimed with joy as she ran to him.
Without hesitation, the redhead threw herself with such force toward her father that she almost made him lose his balance, hugging him tightly. She and her mother had warned him not to travel after that terrible earthquake, but he had stubbornly insisted on continuing his business trip. Every day she was forced to listen to the tenants talk about how the trade routes had been ruined and how bandit activity had increased. Every night she went to sleep with the fear that the next day would dawn with the news that her father's body had been found, and although her mother tried to hide it under a serious expression, the dark circles under her eyes showed that she was equally eaten up with worry.
Father and daughter embraced affectionately, even letting out a few tears of joy, but the tender scene was quickly interrupted.
SLAP
"How dare you worry us like this, Arkaid!" her mother exclaimed, having slapped the man with such power that it echoed throughout the place.
Colette quickly walked away as soon as this aggression occurred, not even daring to raise her voice to defend her father. She knew it was a losing battle.
"Do you have any idea how many sleepless nights we have spent, worrying that we might never see you again?" the woman continued, berating her husband. "What would become of this family if you died? How could you be so selfish to walk away without thinking of the consequences?"
Arkaid laughed nervously, knowing he deserved that scolding.
"M-my dear, I know it was risky, but it was worth it!" he said as he started rummaging through his pockets. "Look!"
The man quickly pulled several golden coins out of his pocket, surprising the two who quickly approached.
"Is that what I think it is?" the older woman asked, covering her mouth in amazement.
"It is gold!" Arkaid exclaimed with joy. "These are real, genuine gold coins, there are many more of these in the wagon. And it is all thanks to a certain man I invited to stay."
With that said he turned away, focusing his attention on the door.
"Everyone, you can come in now!" he announced in a loud voice.
Both mother and daughter focused their attention on the entrance, watching as the door was opened. Three people passed through it, one of them being an acquaintance, but the others strangers. The acquaintance was Saphirette, a woman who despite not sharing blood ties was basically considered a member of the family. It had been a while since they had last seen her in person due to her work, but far from looking pleased as she did every time she visited, Saphirette had a rather troubled look on her face.
Next to her walked an unknown woman. She was a beautiful woman with short dark hair, a slightly pale, almost porcelain-like complexion, and piercing, hypnotic yellow eyes. Colette could not help but feel a flood of emotions when contemplating such a woman, from awe at such beauty to insecurity and complex at not being able to avoid comparing herself to her. Her attire was elegant, similar to Saphirette's scholar's clothes but being beige instead of dark, with a curious red tie falling in the middle of her chest. However, all that elegance contrasted with the strange metal ball the woman carried in her arms, held so lovingly against her chest that it almost seemed a sort of baby substitute.
However, that woman was far from being the most curious of Arkaid's group of guests. That recognition went to the person in dark armor walking behind the other two women. It was a towering figure, taller than everyone present, covered from head to toe in a type of armor that was not common in those lands. Several bandoliers surrounded its torso and waist, carrying all kinds of ammunition, giving it the air of someone experienced in battle. But undoubtedly the most terrifying aspect of its appearance was the helmet it wore, as it covered its entire face, with two bright red lenses located where she supposed its eyes were, giving it an inhuman and creepy look.
Colette's legs betrayed her the moment she saw that intimidating stranger, trembling noticeably as she opened her mouth to say something but only emitted small shrieks instead.
"Mr. Grognak, please take off your helmet, you are scaring my daughter!" Arkaid said as he grabbed the redhead by the shoulders to reassure her.
"Sorry 'bout that, fella," said the stranger, his voice muffled under his helmet.
The man proceeded to remove his helmet, lifting it up and thus exposing his face, revealing something Colette had not expected at all. He had a handsome tanned face, with chiseled features that were not marred by the numerous scars that decorated his countenance. His hair was dark and slicked back, and although gray hair was already showing at his temples, the expression on his face denoted the vitality and joviality of someone who did not let the years stifle his spirit.
"Howdy!" he exclaimed in a friendly manner.
The two women were perplexed by the greeting. Colette still looked intimidated by that peculiar stranger, although now being able to see his face had caused a slight blush to appear on her freckled face.
"Aunt Gertrud, cousin Colette, it is a pleasure to see you again after so long," Saphirette said as she stepped in front of the stranger and approached them, possibly in an attempt to calm their nerves. "I apologize if Mr. Grognak has disturbed you, he is somewhat... disruptive."
There was noticeable resentment in Saphirette's voice when she said that.
"She is right," the other woman concurred as she likewise took a step forward. "The man here, Grognak, may be a somewhat turbulent individual, but I assure you he is harmless."
Saphirette turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow of disbelief at that last statement.
"I retract what I said, he is not harmless, but he is manageable," she corrected.
At this they both nodded in agreement, much to the bewildered gaze of Gertrud and Colette.
"I have a lot of explaining to do to you two," Arkaid said as he scratched his head. "But before I explain, I promised our guests here that they would taste Colette's delicious cuisine, so how about we proceed to the dining room and enjoy a delicious breakfast?"
Paula rolled over on the bed, still sore in her head. It had been only a few days since she had almost succumbed to the fierce sun, passed out in the middle of nowhere along with her beloved Doris. Funnily enough the horse had passed out long before she did, and in what could only be described as an act of foolish benevolence she decided to carry the tired horse on her back for hours under the inclement sun, an action that ended up draining her already depleted energy and causing her legs to give out on her.
She had only managed to save herself thanks to a merchant caravan that managed to find her by pure chance at her most critical moment. In a funny twist of fate she ended up being taken to Ironpost, the very place she had almost died trying to reach, where she was treated and healed. Also, to her embarrassment, she could see on the map that Ironpost was closer than she had expected, and that in fact her long and deadly journey had been the product of circling the endless plain. One of the well-known and famous Three Musketeers almost died of dehydration in the desert due to lack of planning and circling in the same place, a fate that was anything but desirable.
The blonde had spent the last few days resting at the local inn, spending her days lying down and feeding, recovering her energy. Doris rested in the stables, equally recovering from what could easily have been certain death. Despite the recent experience, Paula was in good spirits, as spending the last few days sleeping and tasting the owner's daughter's delicious food had basically been the dream vacation she hadn't allowed herself to have since her life as a hero began, and it was something she had taken full advantage of, the previous night being an example of this, when she basically wiped out all the alcohol reserves in the inn, causing her current headache and hindering her recovery.
When she returned she would have to apologize to Alameria and Olivie, but for now she wanted to continue enjoying that idyllic rest and prepare for the breakfast that the owner's daughter was probably already preparing. However Paula couldn't help but feel that she was forgetting something, for something in the back of her mind let her know that she had gone to that town for a reason, but the near-death experience and the abundant banquets had made her forget what it was.
"... the women!" Paula exclaimed as she jumped out of bed.
She had finally remembered that she had gone to Ironpost because of the rumors of missing women in recent days. She even remembered hearing people whispering amongst themselves about well-known women in town who had disappeared overnight, but she had had her attention focused solely on the delicious meals she was being served, so she barely paid any attention to those extraneous conversations. She had not even left the inn in her days of stay, her routine being a constant walk from her room to the dining room and back, so she had not even gone out to converse with the townspeople to investigate the circumstances of the mysterious disappearances.
The gunslinger began to dress hurriedly, taking off her sleeping gown and hastily putting on her outfit. She pulled her leather chaps up to her knees, put the skirt-bandolier around her waist and tightened it firmly to hold it in position, she tucked in her short white shirt that reached above her navel, and tied her red bandana around her neck and then hung her mandatory cape on her back. Lescatie heroes were free to choose their attire as they preferred, with the only condition being that they had to wear a cape when on duty. She never understood the reason for it, but Wilmarina herself followed that rule, so she had to as well.
She readied her weaponry, finally attaching her handgun to the gun holster at her waist, and before leaving she donned her iconic feathered hat, one of the Musketeers' emblems. That done, she proceeded to walk briskly through the corridors of the inn, looking for the exit. It was still early, and most of the guests were still asleep, so she found no one in her path. But just as she was about to walk out the front door and finally do her hero's work, a delicious, fragrant aroma caught her attention.
"Th-that smells like..." Paula began to say as she turned around, drool beginning to escape her lips.
She could smell the delicious aroma of bacon, eggs, sausage, beans, biscuits and even baked potatoes. Almost instinctively she moved towards the place where that exquisite aroma was coming from, her stomach growling like a wild beast. Again her main task left her mind, now occupied with only one thing on her mind: breakfast.
"Good morning!" she announced encouragingly as she entered the dining room. "It smells delicious!"
Normally, at that hour, the only people in the dining room were the owner and her daughter, and rarely any guests who had gotten up early, but never the number of people that were now gathered. There were a remarkable number of people together, who had assembled a few tables to eat together. The owner and her daughter were seated next to a plump man, while at the other table were two beautiful dark-haired women, one wearing glasses and the other holding a strange metallic sphere to her chest. However, the one who attracted the most attention was the man sitting in the middle of the two, being someone tall, taller than everyone at the table, broad-shouldered and with a face she recognized as attractive. Most impressive, however, was how he devoured plate after plate of food, to the point that she felt almost challenged.
"Oh, good morning, Miss Paula!" Colette said as she got up from the table to attend to her.
The redhead approached her, smiling uncharacteristically. Paula did not know the girl well, as she had only been at the inn for a few days, but in the time she had been there she could see that the redhead had a meek and shy personality. That she was now acting in such a mood could only mean that something special was going on.
"Is there a party or something?" the gunslinger asked as she looked at the assembled group.
"My father is back! We are celebrating, please join us!" Colette responded enthusiastically as she grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the tables.
Paula didn't try in the least to resist that pull, especially since the table she was being led to was the one with a massive pile of biscuits dipped in gravy and next to it a generous pot of baked beans and several tankards filled to the brim with frothy ale. The blonde took a seat and began to devour with gusto, her eyes sparkling as the redhead placed a nice plate of bacon in front of her.
"Who is she, a guest?" the stubby man asked, impressed to see her eating with such ferocity.
"This is Paula, she was brought here unconscious by Mr. Evans a few days ago," Colette explained as she poured another serving of mashed potatoes onto her father's plate. "He found her fainting in the middle of the plain next to her horse, so we have been taking care of her."
"She only stays here because she pays, this is not a hospital," Gertrud commented as she took a sip from her coffee cup, visibly disgusted by the blonde's lack of table manners.
"You were unconscious in the middle of nowhere? How terrible!" said the bespectacled woman. "What was it that got you into that situation, if I may ask?"
Paula tried to respond, but her mouth was full of biscuits, so all that came out of her lips were indecipherable mumbles.
"You'd better swallow before you speak, miss," the man said along with a slight chuckle as he passed her a tankard of ale. "Lest you're going to choke."
"Grognak is right, swallow first and then you can talk calmly," said the short-haired woman beside said man, still carrying that strange metallic ball.
Hearing that name caused Paula to stop her hurried eating abruptly, looking up. For a few brief seconds the need to feed left her mind, and the memory of her original mission came to her: to capture the individual known as Grognak on orders from Wilmarina. The original reason she had left Lescatie and begun her adventure, the mysterious man who had attracted the attention of the Order, the target for which the musketeers had been sent, was right now in front of her on the other side of the table eating a biscuit so drenched in gravy that it stained the tip of his nose in the process.
"Hey, it's normal that you find me more pleasing to the eye than food, but at least try to disguise it," the man said playfully as he noticed she was looking straight at him.
Paula stood up abruptly, planting her foot on the table and drawing her gun, pointing it quickly at the individual.
"I, Paula Tronmail, Musketeer of Lescatie and hero of the Order, place you under arrest, Grognak!" she declared loudly, much to the surprise of everyone present.
That action had been so abrupt and unexpected that everyone else present had fallen deeply silent, barely processing what had just happened, all except the man, who had swiftly drawn a firearm and aimed it at her at the same time she did. The man had reacted incredibly quickly, almost as if it was instinctive for him.
"Arrest? Arkaid, you brought a criminal into our home?!" Gertrud exclaimed angrily.
"I may be many things, but criminal ain't one of them," the man stated as he held his handgun up, pointing it at her. However he put his free hand to his chin, beginning to remember something. "Well, technically I'm considered one in parts of California, Arizona, and other places, but I don't think that applies here."
"And if you are not a criminal then why is there a warrant for your capture by the Order?" asked Paula in an overconfident manner. "By Wilmarina's direct order I am to take you with me to Lescatie, it is up to you whether you cooperate or you will make me use force!"
"W-wait a moment, please!" the glasses-wearing woman stood up hurriedly, trying to defuse the situation. "There is no need to resort to this, I am an official scholar of the Order, and we have a special permit from King Malik Polove certifying my status and that of my companions, please lower your weapons and—"
"Trial by Duel," the other black-haired woman interrupted.
Both Paula and the man turned to look at her as soon as she said that, both still pointing guns at each other.
"The what?" the man asked.
"An ancestral Lescatian tradition regarding the innocence of an accused," she began to explain calmly as she took a sip from her coffee cup. "The accused has the right to demand a duel against the enforcer upon arrest if they firmly believe in their own innocence. Every such duel is supposedly observed in person by the Chief God, who will benefit with victory the one who has the backing of justice on their side."
Having said this she raised her gaze, fixing it on Paula, who could not help but feel a certain trance the moment she saw those hypnotic yellow eyes.
"If there is a duel and you win, you can arrest Grognak and take him away, but if he wins he will win his freedom and you will have to dismiss the charges against him. Do you accept the challenge, Musketeer?" she issued the challenge, much to the surprise of everyone present.
It was unexpected, but captivating. Olivie had told her about the honorable duels that occurred between holy knights and criminals looking to save their skins. It was dishonorable for any son or daughter of Lescatie to deny such a challenge, for it would call into question the Chief God's endorsement of them, though Paula didn't really understand about such matters, she simply found the idea of dueling amusing.
"A duel?!" the woman in glasses exclaimed in horror as she jumped up from her chair. " Miss Anne, you cannot be serious, the least we need right now is to—"
"That sounds like fun!" Paula exclaimed enthusiastically, interrupting the woman's complaint. "I accept the challenge!"
The sun was just rising on the horizon, timidly peering over the mountains and illuminating the dirt streets of the town. It was deathly silent, with no one present except the two combatants and Saphirette, who reluctantly served as the referee in the duel. Arkaid and his family, as well as Sofiva and ED-E, were watching from the safety of the inn, something that the already awakened townspeople were doing as well, all watching with great interest the duel that was about to take place.
The Courier was wearing his Elite riot gear helmet, taking advantage of its advanced optics to give him a greater advantage in the duel, as well as to prevent his opponent from seeing the direction of his eyes. In his gun holster he carried the Ranger Sequoia, ready and loaded to be drawn and bring the encounter to a quick end.
"Now, before we start the duel I want to make the conditions clear," announced Saphirette, who was visibly in a bad mood. "First of all, the duel will be first blood, not to death. The first to take damage will lose."
The Courier was startled to hear that. "Oh shit, really?"
"Yes, really," Saphirette replied as she folded her arms. "The least we need is for someone to suffer an unnecessary death, so at the first damage the duel is over and the winner is declared."
"In that case I need a brief time out," he said as he turned around to face the inn, raising his hand high. "Birdie, come here and bring ED-E with you!"
Sofiva, still under her human disguise, calmly stepped out of the inn and walked over to where he was, carrying ED-E in her arms. She looked very serene despite being responsible for the situation.
"Could you remind me why you thought it was a good idea to get me into a duel without my permission?" he questioned as he opened ED-E's compartment, beginning to rummage through the various weapons the eyebot carried inside.
"I have heard rumors about the Three Musketeers of Lescatie, and seeing you duel with one would be most interesting and enriching," the owl mage admitted as she shrugged her shoulders.
"Well, color me impressed, you're more manipulative than I thought. I have to admit that's pretty attractive, Birdie," the Courier mused as he finally pulled out an AEP7 laser pistol, one of his weaker weapons but appropriate for a non-lethal encounter. "But don't you think it's risky? What would have happened if it wasn't for Glassies' rule and I ended up killing her?"
"Do you think I did not foresee that?" she replied. "I will just say I already have something planned with which to restrain you in case you get out of control."
The Courier raised an eyebrow in amusement at this. He was tempted to ask what that measurement was, but he knew it was neither the place nor the time to do so, so he would have to remember to ask later. In the meantime, the ED-E emitted a steady series of beeps by way of a question.
"I don't think anyone would mind, so sure, you can play Ralphie's theme song to have mood music for the duel, lil' buddy," he replied as he gave the eyebot a light caress before turning around and returning to confront his combatant. "Now get back, you don't want a stray bullet hitting you."
The owl mage carried the eyebot back to the safety of the inn, leaving the two combatants and the referee alone again.
"Sorry 'bout that, you can continue, Glassies," the Courier said as he stowed the revolver inside his duster.
"As I was saying," Saphirette continued. "The use of magical techniques and weapons are allowed, outside assistance is prohibited, and in the event of a tie I will be responsible for declaring a winner. Any questions?"
"None!" shouted Paula as she had her hand near her gun holster, ready to draw.
"All good over here," replied the Courier.
"In that case..." Saphirette raised her hand high. "Begin!"
Both combatants drew almost at the same time, with the Courier having a slight advantage of a few seconds, but instead of firing he just stared in bewilderment at what the blonde was doing.
"What in the…" the Courier whispered.
Paula had drawn her gun, but far from aiming at him and firing, she was firing at the sky consecutively. She wasn't even looking up, she was still looking at him as she fired upwards again and again, smiling confidently. The Courier looked at her in confusion, even glancing to his sides thinking maybe it was some sort of joke.
"Bullet Rain!" Paula screamed as she fired the last bullet into the sky.
Soon the Courier's instincts kicked in and he quickly looked up into the sky, seeing to his surprise how multiple energy projectiles were floating in the sky. Before he had time to say anything, the energy projectiles fell at incredible speed toward him, forcing him to run to dodge them.
"The fuck is going on?" he shouted as he ran and jumped from side to side, barely dodging the multiple projectiles from the sky.
"Projectiles maneuvered by manipulation of thermological and gravitational energy," said the voice coming from the Pip-boy.
The Courier quickly raised his left arm, seeing to his surprise the digitized face of the AI, who had finally awakened.
"Do you know what that thing is?" the Courier asked hurriedly as he was forced to roll on the ground to avoid a consecutive series of projectiles coming for him.
The AI's digitized face nodded on the Pip-boy's screen. "Certainly, it is similar to the expansive tracking technique designed for the armaments of my Master's people."
"Hard shot!" Paula announced as she aimed her weapon directly at the elusive Courier, building up a massive amount of energy in the gun's barrel before firing.
From the barrel of the gun shot out a powerful concentration of energy at a speed almost undetectable to the human eye, so much so that the Courier, even with his cybernetically enhanced senses, could barely process it in time, narrowly dodging that energy beam that followed its trajectory into the distance.
"Don't tell me, that's also something your master and his friends used to do, right?" he said as he grabbed the heavy lid of a nearby barrel to shield himself from the last projectiles still falling from the sky.
"That savage..." the AI spoke with a venomous tone full of grudge. "I don't know how she got that technology, but I ask you to please retrieve it when you annihilate her."
"No can do," he replied as he pointed the laser pistol at the blonde. "Killing her is out of the question, but afterwards we can ask her where she got her gun."
The Courier took aim and fired, causing a reddish-colored beam projectile to shoot out at the speed of light. The shot was instantaneous, with an assured hit, but much to his surprise, Paula managed to dodge it by a quick leap to the left.
"How in the f—"
"Consecutive fire!" Paula shouted as she pulled the trigger of her pistol consecutively, causing countless rounds of projectiles to shoot out of the barrel of the gun in an almost unnatural manner.
Those shots were even faster than the previous ones, hardly noticeable to the Courier's already superhuman senses. At that point he would not have time to dodge them, not naturally.
"Implant GRX, activate," he mentally commanded.
The subdermal Turbo injector implanted in his brain reacted instantaneously to the mental command, delivering the chem. The effects were immediate, with the Courier's surroundings being massively slowed down. The birds in the sky seemed frozen in place, the people in the surrounding buildings remained paralyzed, and even those energy projectiles that were right in front of his face moved at an extremely slow speed. Meanwhile the Courier was able to move normally in that slowed-down world, taking advantage of the brief two-second time period to move to the side and dodge the energy projectiles.
The brief effect of the chem came to an end, with the Courier's perception of time returning to normal.
"Wow! How did you manage to dodge that?!" Paula asked in amazement, for from her point of view her opponent had moved faster than she could blink. "Is that some kind of special technique?! Please tell me!"
"You're not the only one with secrets," replied the Courier as he kept moving, walking to the right side and watching for any movement. "Hey, is it just me, or do your eyes look prettier than they did before?"
"Oh, these? It is nothing special!" Paula said as she brought her left hand up to her face close to her now bright eyes while laughing with some embarrassment due to the flattery. "These are just my Sniper Eyes, an ability that allows me to predict attacks for a few seconds before they happen!"
"Oh, so you know the trajectory I'm going to shoot at before I do?" inquired the Courier curiously.
"Yeah, it is my secret and super special ability!" the blonde proudly proclaimed.
After that there were a few seconds of spectral silence in the place. The spectators of the duel could not believe that the musketeer had revealed her advantage so openly to her opponent.
"... crap!" Paula cried out, realizing that she had revealed crucial information to her opponent. "I was not supposed to tell you!"
The Courier smiled under his gas mask, now starting to run to the left. Meanwhile the blonde's face was red with embarrassment at having been so easily tricked into revealing her special ability.
"You will pay for making me look like a moron!" she threatened as she again pointed her gun to shoot. "Take this! Guided bu—"
Before Paula could fire, the Courier swooped to the side, firing before landing on the ground. Again a beam projectile as fast as light shot out of the weapon, although Paula easily dodged it by simply stepping aside.
"Ha! You missed!" Paula proclaimed with a laugh.
The lightning projectile flew past, now aiming at one of the buildings that was unlucky enough to be close to the combat zone. The final destination of the reddish beam ended up being a mirror that was leaning against the building, causing the beam to bounce off and be reflected, being returned at a different angle and coming back, hitting Paula's back.
"Agh!" she groaned in pain as she received that laser shot, feeling the burn on her back.
"The duel is over, Grognak is the winner!" Saphirette announced as she stepped in between the two, declaring the end of the fight.
The Courier let out a sigh of relief. Calculating the trajectory and angle of the energy beam was a complicated task to do when running and dodging at the same time, and a miscalculation would have resulted in an injured innocent and the whole town wanting to kick him out.
"No hard feelings, eh, gal?" he said in a jocular tone as he approached her.
Paula looked perplexed at her defeat, still processing what had just happened.
"You…" she began to say. "You… were so cool!"
The blonde's eyes sparkled with almost infantile excitement, completely ignoring the burning pain in her back and shaking the Courier's hands enthusiastically.
"You can also control the movement of your magic bullets? It is incredible, I could not even see its trajectory, you must teach me how you did it!" she said with a long smile plastered on her lips. "Oh, I have to tell Alameria and Olivie about this, you have to meet them and fight them, it would be so much fun!"
The Courier could not get used to the bizarre reactions of the people of this world to defeat. He was beginning to miss the people of the Wasteland who, when defeated, insulted him and even tried to kill him.
"Uh, Miss Paula, I hope that you are not forgetting what was agreed," Saphirette said as she approached them. "Grognak being the winner, all charges against him will be dismissed."
"Oh yeah, right!" she began to rummage in one of the compartments of her bandolier belt. She finally pulled out a folded and crumpled document, opening it and handing it to Saphirette. "Here, I keep my word!"
Saphirette took the crumpled paper, contemplating it curiously before reading it. There she stood for a few seconds in silence, analyzing the contents carefully. Soon the expression on her face became one of disbelief.
"M-miss Paula," Saphirette began to say. "T-this is not a capture warrant or an arrest warrant. It is a request to find a potential hero and escort him back, at no point is the need for the use of force indicated."
The Courier and Paula turned to look at Saphirette in surprise at that. Paula quickly grabbed the paper and began to read it to make sure it was true.
"Oh... it had been quite some time since I read the letter, so I guess I misremembered the orders," she said as she laughed in embarrassment. "Whoops!"
Saphirette and Courier looked at her in bewilderment, now realizing that the entire conflict had been a waste of time.
"You're lucky you have a pretty face, gal," said the Courier as he put his hand on Paula's shoulder. "Because if not, I'd strangle you."
"COLD, HORRIBLE AND NOT-WARM COLD," Klein complained as he gazed at the screens showing the snow-capped mountains and tundras surrounding the current location of the facility.
Weeks had passed since they had conducted the teleportation experiment by following the vague and barely traceable transmission. They had complications at first, and the possibility of causing an explosion that would annihilate the entire facility had almost taken place, but they had successfully accomplished a teleportation of such magnitude, a feat that had never been achieved before. Klein, however, was not happy.
"HOW I HATE THIS DAMNED MEXICAN SNOW," the brain complained despite not being able to feel cold.
"Mexican? It's more like Canadian snow!" Doctor Zero interfered. "Don't you know the difference, you senile old brain?"
"MEXICAN, CANADIAN, WHAT IS THE DIFFERENCE? NONE, I TELL YOU," Klein barked back. "IF YOU HAD THE NECESSARY DOCTORATES, YOU WOULD KNOW THAT MEXICO IS NOTHING MORE THAN A SOUTHERN CANADA, AND THE SAME APPLIES IN THE REVERSE."
Dr. 8 jumped into the discussion, giving his opinion via RobCo termlink protocol, resulting in loud whirring noises.
"Dr. 8 is right, none of those nationalities apply here," Dr. Kala said, likewise interjecting into the discussion. "Remember, we are in an alternate dimension."
"WHY OF COURSE I REMEMBERED THAT, I WAS JUST TESTING YOU ALL, AND ALL WITH THE EXCEPTION OF O PASSED WITH HONORS," Klein said quickly defensively.
"I've already told you a billion times that it's Zero, not O! It even has a slash and everything!'' Dr. Zero reproached him.
Again Dr. 8 tried to calm the situation by giving his point of view on the matter, communicating it through unholy static noises.
"Once again Dr. 8 is right, for what reason have we been invoked today? I personally had some... important... business to attend to," Kala said, trying to pretend.
"YES, YES, YOU CAN RETURN TO YOUR REPUGNANT FORMOGROPHY ONCE I MAKE MY ANNOUNCEMENT."
With that said Dr. Klein floated into the midst of those present.
"AHEM, ESTEEMED GENTLEMEN AND GENTLE-NOT-MAN, I HAVE SUMMONED YOU ALL HERE TO EXPLAIN THE NEXT STEP OF OUR TELEPORPATION EXPERIMENT," he announced with vainglory.
"Shouldn't we call Doctor Borous? He's still busy experimenting on the local animals," Kala interrupted.
"AS I WAS SAYING, NEXT STEP," Klein insisted, annoyed by the continuous interruptions. "I PROPOSE WE CHANGE LOCATIONS."
All members of the Think Tank remained silent in response to this proposal.
"Why?" Zero asked dryly.
"BECAUSE I CAN'T STAND THIS DAMNED MEXICAN-CANADIAN COLD ANYMORE," Klein exclaimed in a rage.