Free Two To The Fifth by Piers Anthony Page A

that this was a maiden in need of rescue. Maybe even a Damsel in Distress, He hurried closer.
    “I'll scream!” she threatened.
    The thug pinned her against a tree trunk. “You're a real piece of resistance, know that?”
    “That's pièce de resistance,” Cyrus called, pronouncing it correctly. It was in his memory bank. “The main event. And not for you. Let her go.”
    “And suppose we don't?” the thug demanded belligerently.
    “Then I will have to force the issue.”
    “Har har har!” The thug reached out to rip open the damsel's bodice.
    Cyrus realized that these thugs were not going to be reasonable. He dismounted and strode forward. Don moved to block off the other two thugs.
    “What the bleep?” the thug demanded as Cyrus caught his arm. “I'll pulverize you!”
    Cyrus threw the arm into the brush. Since the thug remained attached, he followed it, landing on a stink horn. There was a foul-smelling noise and an awful-looking stench. The thug was soon enveloped in a noxious cloud, choking helplessly.
    Meanwhile Don was kicking ass, his way. One hind hoof booted the bottom of the second thug, and the other hind hoof pasted the posterior of the third thug. Both flew through the air to land on their own stink horns.
    In hardly more than a moment and a half all three stinking thugs were fleeing the scene.
    “You saved me!” the Damsel exclaimed gratefully. “However can I reward you, handsome stranger?”
    “Oh, there's no need. We were just passing by.”
    She glanced at him thoughtfully. Her ponytail flicked off a stray fly from her shoulder. “At least let's get to know each other I am Algebra, good at math because I wear a bra made of algae,” She glanced down at it, now exposed by the thug's bodice rip. It was somewhat green and furry, but supported very nice mounds. “I am a nymph with some equine ancestry.” Her ponytail flicked off another fly.
    “I am Cyrus Cyborg, a playwright, on my way to see the Curse Fiends.”
    “A playwright! Oh, I always wanted to be an actress!” Then she reconsidered. “But that doesn't compute. My real passion is mathematics. I must not be diverted from it. What is a cyborg?”
    “I am half human, half machine.”
    “That's why you're so strong! And handsome too.” She glanced at him again, taking a deep breath that stretched the living bra. “Are you sure I can't reward you with a kiss and perhaps more? I am really in your debt for rescuing me from those thuggees.”
    Cyrus was getting half a glimmer what she offered. But it would surely delay him unduly, “No thank you. I have to be moving on.”
    “Then maybe you will accept this. It is exactly what you will need.” She reached into the crevice between her full mounds and brought out a tiny vial. “Three drops of lethe elixir. It will make you forget something for three days.”
    “No thank you. I don't need to forget anything.”
    “Not now, maybe. But some time you will need this. It's a mathematical certainty. Please, it's the only way I can repay you for saving me.”
    When she put it that way, it was difficult to decline. “Thank you, Algebra,” he said, accepting the vial and putting it in his shirt pocket.
    “You are more than welcome, Cyrus.” Then she laced her bodice back together and departed.
    “You're a fool,” Don remarked as they resumed their trek, “She was eager to make you deliriously happy for a calculated instant or two.”
    “I guess it's my nature,” Cyrus agreed. “I don't really know how to handle women.”
     
    In due course they reached Lake Ogre-Chobee, where ogres and chobees roamed. As it happened, there was a middle-aged curse fiend standing by the shore, “Cyrus Cyborg, I presume?” he asked. “I am Curtis Curse Friend.”
    Cyrus was astonished. “You expected me?”
    “Indubitably. We have an interest in those who set up competing play troupes.”
    That had not occurred to him. “I did not realize that it was competitive. I merely want to realize my