3 Guys and a Squirrel

by Jared Bellis

  “Hey! Dipshits! Quit staring! You’re gonna piss some of these people off!” admonished Balzac. The guys looked a bit chagrined before starting to stare once more. Balzac face-palmed.

  “Let’s get moving. We look like idiots standing here. We need to find a place to stay, somewhere to sell your flaming cock parts, and a place to get you all tagged.” He glared at Joe as he said this. The squirrel pointed Ray down the street and they all started walking again.

  They found a vendor fairly easily and got a decent price for their goods. Next they went to the local government office. A bored looking official greeted them as they walked in.

  “Welcome to Sedli, travelers. How may I be of service?”

  “We need to get a tag or something?” asked Andrew. The official nodded.

  “You look like you’re new to our area. How many credits would you like to start with?” They had enough for around a couple hundred each.

  “How does this work exactly?” inquired Ray.

  “It’s quite simple,” the official assured them. “I simply insert this chip under the skin in your wrist. When you wish to purchase something, you hold your wrist to the scanner. If someone is purchasing something from you, you do the same thing. It will also hold your identification, if needed. All I need is the money you wish to deposit, a small fee of 25 credits each, and the information you want on your identification papers.”

  They paid the man and each got tagged, although Joe wasn’t happy about it. They were about to take their leave when the official added one more comment.

  “By the way, the Theocrat would like to meet with you. He prefers to interview any that come through the portals and end up here. It would be…unwise to keep him waiting.” They all shared a look, nodded, and headed to meet up with the Theocrat.

  “Guys?” began Andrew. “What’s a theocrat?” Balzac face-palmed.

  “The Theocrat is one of the leaders of the city. He is pretty much a high priest,” replied the squirrel.

  “Is he dangerous?” asked Ray.

  “Of course. You don’t get to his position without being dangerous. Whether or not he’s dangerous to us? That remains to be seen.” They walked in silence until they found the large temple like structure near the center of town.

  “That looks like it was a catholic church that someone very inexperienced tried to rebuild,” remarked Ray. It was mostly brick with some wood filling in certain places. It had a high steeple and was in a cruciform shape. People milled about in the streets around the temple, and there were a few businesses scattered along the street, as well.

  The four of them entered the temple, expecting it to be packed with people. Much to their surprise, the sanctuary was empty except for a lone individual sitting on the stairs by the altar.

  “Ah! The new adventurers have arrived! Well met all!” he declared as they approached. They looked at him in wonder. He was an older fellow, with long white hair and a beard.

  “Dude! He looks just like Gandalf!” whispered Andrew, loudly. The Theocrat laughed.

  “I’ve heard that many times before, young one,” he said in a deep, booming voice. “Balzac, who’ve you brought to me this time?” Balzac looked confused.

  “What do you mean? I’ve not been here before and you don’t seem familiar,” replied Balzac, mystified.

  “No, you haven’t been here, but I’d recognize your aura anywhere! You weren’t a squirrel the last time I saw you, though. You brought me through a portal many years ago. I’m hurt you don’t recognize me,” stated the Theocrat. Balzac looked closer at the man.

  “Jaron? Is that you? I thought you died!”

  The Theocrat, Jaron apparently, smiled and nodded.

  “I did! But I got better! That’s a story for another time, however. Now, what brings you here, old friend?” Balzac was at a loss; he’d never run into one of his former heroes before.

  “Well, this is Andrew, Joe, and Ray. They recently came over and are…searching for their place in the world,” answered Balzac. The guys nodded as he introduced each of them.

  “Another crop of adventurers! Are they any good?” Jaron inquired. Balzac looked a bit embarrassed.

  “Not really, Theocrat dude. We aren’t interested in being adventurers. We’ve just been wandering around, trying to find a place to fit in. Oh, and there are some bandits whose asses we need to kick,” replied Ray, helpfully. The Theocrat gave him an odd look.

  “What are you talking about? Not adventuring? You’re hunting bandits but you aren’t adventurers? Nonsense! I know you gained power coming through the portal. Are you telling me you aren’t interested in using it? That you don’t want to fight to make the world better?” he said incredulously. They nodded their heads. Balzac face-palmed.

  “Seems about right, yeah,” answered Joe. Jaron just looked at him.

  “How can this be? Balzac?”

  “CLARENCE GOT ME DEFECTIVE HEROES! IT’S NOT MY FAULT!”

  “Nutbag! I thought we were past that!” exclaimed Andrew, hurt by the accusation.

  “Well, if you’re staying in Sedli you’ll be expected to earn your keep,” Jaron the Theocrat informed them. “Typically, adventurers do that by killing monsters and such. What are you all going to do?” They looked at each other and shrugged.

  “I don’t guess you all will tell me what you can do?” he pressed. Balzac interrupted before they could speak.

  “Ray’s a fire elemental, Joe controls metal, and Andrew…Andrew was gifted with great fighting skill,” he answered quickly. Jaron nodded.

  “Well, you need to find something to do,” he sounded disappointed. “I suppose hunting the bandits could count. The council requires adventurers,” he stressed the word, “to perform a service in order to stay. I’ll warn you, don’t tell anyone what you’re doing. The bandits have people everywhere.”

  “Good to know, thanks,” replied Ray, testily. He didn’t seem to like the Theocrat very much.

  “Is there anything else you need?” asked Balzac. The Theocrat shook his head.

  “No, that is all for now. Just understand that you are expected to contribute to our society if you choose to stay here. If you can take down the bandits, great. But you won’t get any help from us. In the meantime, I suggest you find lodgings and work. We don’t support freeloaders here,” he finished, with an obvious dismissal. The four took their leave.

  “That guy was kind of a douche!” stated Andrew after they left the temple. The others all nodded.

  “Yeah, he was pretty full of himself when he first came here, too. I really thought he’d gotten himself killed with his mouth years ago. But now that I know he’s alive, I’m not surprised that he rose to a high rank. He is a powerful priest and healer, and he was always very ambitious,” said Balzac. But truthfully, the squirrel thought to himself, I’m not sure how trustworthy the man is. That’s why I decided not to inform him about Andrew’s healing abilities… [1]

  “Anyway,” the squirrel continued, “we need to find a place to stay. There are plenty of pubs and inns in town to choose from. As far as work, well, I don’t know what you all are good at.” Andrew wasn’t really paying attention. Instead, he was looking up between the buildings.

  “Hey, Balzac. What are those cables up there? They look like power lines.”

  “That’s because they are. What else would they be?” replied the squirrel, mystified.

  “I thought you said they didn’t have electricity here!” stated Joe angrily.

  “No, I said there isn’t power like there is back on your world. Bigger cities like this have their own power grid, mostly provided by solar and wind with a few fusion generators on the side,” retorted Balzac. “One of the perks of living in the city is free power, and protection and easy access to other resources provide even more good reasons for people to live here,” finished the squirrel.

  “So I would’ve been able to charge my phone?” asked Joe.

  “I have no idea. It may not be compatible with the power g
rid here,” answered Balzac.

  “Guess it doesn’t matter, since those stupid guards destroyed it,” said Joe sullenly.

  “Can we just find a place to stay? Maybe some food while we’re at it?” whined Andrew. Ray nodded his agreement and soon they were walking toward a street full of pubs and inns.

  “This one looks good,” stated Balzac from Ray’s shoulder. He was pointing over at a pub with a garishly painted sign with the words “The Purloined Pixie” on it. The guys all shrugged and walked in. The place was fairly busy; several patrons were sitting at some of the tables scattered around the room and bar. There was a small stage with a piano and a few guitars sitting around. The bartender was an attractive human woman with at least one metallic arm. There were two…beings waiting tables. One appeared to be a human male; the other was definitely not. It was about four feet tall and slender to the point of emaciation. It had blue-green skin, bulging eyes, and four long, thin arms.

  “Is that an…,” asked Andrew excitedly.

  “Hush! She’ll hear you! Yes, it’s an alien. Now let’s see if we can find rooms. The three men and their squirrel headed to the bar. Ray took the lead.

  “Hey, bartender,” he started.

  “Yeah?” she answered. “You want a drink?” Her voice was soft and melodious. Andrew was immediately entranced.

  “No thanks, we’re actually looking for rooms,” answered Ray.

  “You’re going to have to talk to the boss about rooms,” she answered, pointing over towards the stage. There was nobody there. All three guys gave her an odd look. She sighed.

  “Just listen, he’s easier to hear than see sometimes, especially when the lights are dim,” she responded. The guys did as she suggested, walking towards the stage with their ears open and eyes wide.

  “M’Leep! Be careful with those mugs! Rondo! Quit hitting on the customers! Chalandra! Pour me a drink! I’m going to get warmed up; these people need to be entertained! Luckily, they have me!” They saw a tiny, glowing figure on the edge of the stage and heard what sounded like bagpipes being inflated. As they drew closer they saw a man, maybe six inches tall, with bluish silver hair and blue whorl tattoos on his shoulders and pecs, who was wearing nothing but tight, knee length leather pants. He had tiny little wings that matched the color of his hair and was preparing bagpipes. He looked up as they walked over.

  “What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?” he demanded.

  They just looked at him, dumbfounded.

  “Are you stupid? Do you not understand what Ruul is saying?” he continued, his tone condescending as he looked the guys up and down. “Why do you have a squirrel? We don’t allow rodents in here!”

  “Dude, are you a…faerie?” asked Andrew. The small man started to turn red, dropped his bagpipes, and flew right up in Andrew’s face.

  “FAERIE? FAERIE?! I AM A PIXIE YOU ENORMOUS SHEEP SHAGGER!” The pixie then started punching Andrew in the nose. It didn’t really hurt, but it was annoying.

  “Ow! Stop it dude! I’m sorry okay? I’ve never seen a pixie before!”

  “Ruul will accept your apology, as you are obviously an idiot. Don’t let it happen again,” replied the pixie with a glare. “Now, what do you want?”

  “Umm, Ruul, sir. I assume you’re the owner of this place?” asked Ray hesitantly. Ruul nodded, pleased at being called “sir.” “We were told we needed to talk to you about getting rooms?”

  Ruul nodded. “We have rooms, yes. What will you offer for them?” They all looked confused.

  “We have a little money…” started Joe.

  “Of course, we will take your moneys,” said Ruul. “What else?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Ray.

  “Ruul does not enjoy speaking to so many of you. This one,” he pointed at Ray, “the less stupid looking one, can speak. They rest of you will remain silent!” he ordered. “If you are going to stay here, I expect work as well!”

  “You want us to pay you so we can work here?” asked Ray. Ruul grinned and nodded.

  “That doesn’t seem quite right…” responded Ray. Ruul frowned.

  “You will get to keep part of any tips you might earn. Now, what can you do?” The guys shrugged.

  “I’ve done some bartending; I can help with that,” answered Joe.

  “I can bounce, I guess,” added Andrew. Ruul looked confused.

  “What good is jumping up and down?” he asked.

  “I mean, I can take care of anyone that gets violent and stuff. Kick them out.”

  Ruul nodded. “That could be funny; you look skinny and weak. My customers will beat you to a pulp! Alright, you can bounce.”

  Ray just walked over and picked up one of the guitars, a classic electric guitar by the look of it. He strummed it a bit, made a few adjustments, and broke into a high-powered rendition of Johnny B. Goode. Everyone in the building turned to watch as he put on a tremendous performance, and there was a great deal of applause after he played the last note. Balzac stood on the floor with his jaw dropped in shock.

  “I can play a little guitar,” Ray said.

  “You are nearly as good as Ruul! You may be an entertainer! M’Leep! Come take our guests to their room!” shouted the pixie. Everyone expected the small alien to walk over but, instead, the handsome man came and led them upstairs.

  “What does the squirrel do?” asked Ruul as they started away. “We won’t have freeloaders here!”

  “Pretty much nothing except play with his nuts,” said Andrew with a grin. Balzac gave him a dirty look. Ruul shook his head and shooed them away.

  CHAPTER 17

  “So, your name is M’Leep?” started Ray as their guide led them up to their room.

  “No. My name is John,” he replied.

  “Then why…?”

  “Ruul says he can’t be bothered to learn the names of lesser beings. He just picks something and calls us that. Frank, the little guy with four arms, didn’t like it much at first, but you learn to live with it. The only one he doesn’t do that with is Chalandra. I think she threatened to cut his balls off if he got her name wrong,” he continued. “Anyway, here’s your room. Drop your crap off and get back downstairs. The boss will expect you to start immediately.” With that, he handed over the key and went back downstairs.

  The guys entered the room. It was modestly furnished, with three small beds and a couple ratty chairs. There was a bathroom attached, which each of the men used gratefully.

  “I never thought I’d be so excited by toilet paper!” exclaimed Andrew. “I was afraid it didn’t exist anymore.”

  “What would people wipe their asses with, then?” asked the cranky squirrel. “We didn’t suddenly become barbarians just because the world ended!”

  “Maybe we should just head back down,” interrupted Ray. He was excited to get back to the guitars. He hadn’t played in ages and had forgotten how much he enjoyed it.

  “What was that, anyway?” asked Balzac. “I had no idea you could play.”

  “Why would you? You never asked,” pointed out Ray. “You know how Andrew and Joe had to do something physical growing up? Well, my parents made me get into music. I can play guitar, piano, and the drums. I sing a little too,” he said smugly.

  “He’s pretty good, little dude. Pretty much a one-man band. You should be more open-minded instead of thinking we’re worthless because we don’t want to be heroes,” admonished Joe. Balzac started to deny the allegation, but shut his mouth when he realized that Joe was right. He hung his head instead.

  “Sorry, I’m trying. I really am. It’s just that you all keep surprising me in different ways. Everything you do, and even some of what you say, shows me that you could be great heroes. I’m still trying to accept it isn’t going to happen.”

  “It’s okay. You’ll figure it out soon enough. So how are we going to find those bandits?” said Andrew.

  “And there you go, sounding like an adventurer,” muttered Balzac.

  “Oops, didn’t mean
to. But we need to take them out so we can settle in somewhere. The slaving thing isn’t cool. I don’t want to fight anyone, but I have to draw the line somewhere,” answered Andrew. The other guys nodded their agreement. Balzac threw up his fuzzy little hands.

  “Gah! This is why I get so confused! You can’t act like a slacker one second and a hero the next!”

  “Obviously we can,” pointed out Joe. Balzac gave up. Again.

  “Whatever. While you all work for the pixie, I’ll scout around town. Nobody will notice a squirrel listening in. I’m sure someone will have some information. I’ll share it when I hear something.” With that, they headed back to the bar to do their jobs.

  The next few weeks were pretty peaceful. Joe tended the bar with Chalandra, Ray played for the people, and Andrew provided security, not that any was needed. Crowds at the Purloined Pixie were generally well-behaved, less due to any fear of Andrew and more due to the desire to keep from angering the owner. Ruul had a bad habit of pissing all over anyone that upset him.

  Balzac scurried all over town during that time, trying to get information on the bandits. He didn’t have much luck, however. Most people in the city were terrified of them and rarely spoke of them. All he learned was that they had a strong presence in the city, they ran protection rackets on most of the businesses, and their camp was in the woods nearby.

  “This is getting frustrating,” stated Ray during one of his breaks. The three guys were sitting at the bar taking a break as Balzac reported another failure to get any useful information. “I like playing and all, but we aren’t getting anywhere. To be honest, Ruul is getting on my nerves and I’d like to move on,” he added in a whisper. The others all agreed.

  “What’s frustrating?” asked Chalandra. She’d proven herself a pleasant coworker, although one that wouldn’t take shit from anyone. The guys all looked at each other warily.