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Monster Girl Quest-The Next Generation	By : Ditmag Category: +M through R > Monster Girl Quest Views: 1517 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Monster Girl Quest is owned by Tortorro Resistance. I make no money from this. It is a labor of love.

Chapter List
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- 2
Ben was stressed. He was staring at his computer screen, trying his hardest to figure out how to stretch his work out to term paper length. The problem was that he tended to think in concise terms, but term papers required a certain level of bullshitting to stretch out the length. Bullshitting was not among his talents. So there he sat, eyes glazing over as he looked at the screen, trying to figure out how to say more about what civil rights and privileges different races of monster were entitled to.
Obviously, the more animalistic monsters who could barely speak or not speak at all, had no concept of rights. They couldn’t stand trial when they did wrong, they couldn’t express themselves beyond their basic need to eat and survive. They were treated like animals. Still, society should not be unnecessarily cruel to them, he thought. Experimentation on unintelligent monsters had a long, sordid history and had only been outlawed a century ago.
Obviously, intelligent monsters had full civil rights and responsibilities. In fact, some monster races were far superior in intelligence to humans, and occupied the commanding heights of wealth and the intelligentsia. That didn’t mean there were no problems, but at least there were no legal dilemmas about how those monsters should be treated.
The toughest issue, one that society had been wrestling with ever since monsters and humans had ceased their constant warfare many centuries ago, was the status of low intelligence monsters. Monsters who could not function well in a technological society, but who weren’t wild and feral either, and thus uncomfortable in nature with the more animalistic species. They were intelligent enough to see how comfortably humans and the more intelligent monsters lived. They knew enough to want that comfort for themselves. And yet they had no way to grasp it with only menial jobs available to them.
Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen such a common subject, Ben thought. What can I possibly add to the centuries of commentary by people much smarter than me? Nevertheless, saying all the right things on this subject usually got a student an easy A, and Ben liked easy As. He was intelligent and studious, but far better at test taking than long form writing. He tended to half ass projects and make up for it by always turning in his homework assignments and then getting perfect scores on tests. But a term paper was not something that could be phoned in. Or at least, he couldn’t look like he was phoning it in.
Deciding that nothing more would be accomplished by just sitting and staring at the screen, Ben pushed himself away from his desk and decided to go pick up some sodas from the convenience store down the street. Maybe a hot dog would be a good idea, too.
“Mom! Dad!” Ben yelled as he left the large condo he’d lived in all of his life to go fetch some refreshments. “I’m going out to grab some sodas at the convenience store! Want anything?”
“Donuts!” his mother yelled. “Chocolate donuts!”
“Beer!” his dad chimed in.
“Dad, I’m not twenty-one yet!” Ben shouted back. “You know I can’t buy beer for you!”
“I thought the drinking age was eighteen!” his father shouted back.
“Dad, it hasn’t been eighteen since you were eighteen!”
“Aw, well, I’ll take some fruit punch and chips then!”
“Got it! Chocolate donuts and chips!”
“Be careful out there, Ben!” his mother urged. “It’s almost dark out! The streets aren’t safe after dark!”
“Got it, mom!”
Ben walked out the door and downstairs to the street. His mother was such a worry wart, as many mothers were. The streets were no more dangerous than in any other big city. Edenburg, if anything, was one of the safer cities in the world. It was prosperous, with the streets brightly lit, a well funded, professional police force, and not too much poverty. That didn’t mean he could walk the streets blissfully unaware of his surroundings. No city was that safe. Muggings were fairly common. Rapes, especially of young men like himself, happened all too often. There were gangs in the city, although they were not allowed to run the streets as they did in some neighborhoods in other cities. The police did fine work. Some said they might be a little too enthusiastic at times.
Billboards and large signs were everywhere in this part of the city, Edenburg’s midtown. Ben had been born in Edenburg and had lived in midtown all his life. He knew the city well, could sense when trouble was around a corner. He knew not to be afraid to walk the streets, but he also knew to respect the streets. It didn’t hurt that Edenburg’s streets were more forgiving than many other cities’. He’d been brought up in relative privilege in a middle class professional family. His father was an account executive for a pharmaceutical company, his mother a paralegal with a prestigious law firm. Together they’d saved enough to send him to a fine college, but the college he really wanted to get into was beyond their means. He would need a scholarship. Fortunately, he had a shot both at an academic or an athletic scholarship. His preferred college: Wentworth College in New Remina, the finest liberal arts school in the world, located on far off Hellgondo. He wanted a scholarship badly. He’d lived in the same condo his entire life and wanted to start taking steps towards independence and adulthood. If he didn’t get a scholarship, he might have to settle for Eden College, which had a solid academic and athletic program, but was also a religious school. Yuck. Not only that, he’d be stuck in Edenburg for the next four years.
Ben reached the local convenience store, which was helpfully named “Convenience Store”, as if there weren’t ten thousand of them in Edenburg, Ben browsed the sodas. Ben was more of a Coke guy than a Pepsi guy. There were numerous other soda brands available, but nothing beat the classics. Selecting a few cherry cokes and a couple of regulars for that good old classic taste, he gently placed them in a basket and went to get the donuts, Gatorade, and chips.
The proprieter, a grumpy looking middle aged lamia, huffed in annoyance when Ben requested a hot dog, but since the store was her livelihood, wasn’t about to turn down a sale, even though it forced her to pause her crossword puzzle.
“Condiments are over there,” she said with barely concealed annoyance. “Let me know when you’re ready to check out.”
Ben put some mustard, ketchup, and relish on his hot dog, thinking that this hot dog had definitely not been prepared with love. Still, it would fill his belly long enough to hopefully finish that damned term paper. He paid for his food and walked back into the street, munching on his hot dog while it was still hot, and fumbling for one of the sodas. His mouth was full when he heard the commotion in a nearby alley.
Walking towards the entrance of the alleyway, still munching and drinking, Ben saw what was causing the commotion. Three rat girls were harassing a human woman, demanding money. Rat girls were part of most cities’ permanent underclass. Not pretty enough to be good at attracting human mates who could give them a good life, not smart enough to do well on their own. Yet somehow they thrived in the cities. His history books had informed him that rat girls were not common at all in medieval times, that their large increase in numbers had coincided with the rise of modern cities.
Unfortunately, petty crime was one way that many rat girls chose to get by. What he was witnessing was obviously going to turn into a mugging. His first instinct was not to interfere. The woman had been stupid, walking alone into a dark alley. Losing her purse would be part of the normal process of learning basic survival skills in the city. But as he watched, Ben became concerned at the level of aggression being shown by the rats. They seemed primed for violence. The woman, on the other hand, didn’t even seem concerned, smirking at the rats and insulting them, which only served to provoke them. This might not end well, Ben thought.
Cursing and depositing his unfinished hot dog and soda into a nearby trash receptacle, he walked briskly into the alley way, hoping to deescalate the situation. The rat girls sniffed the air as he approached, locking their gaze onto him. The woman turned to look as well, as if to see what had distracted her harassers. Ben noticed that the woman was quite pretty, late 20s, by the looks of her, with brown hair in no particular style, yet it still worked for her.
When Ben reached the four ladies, he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. So he went with the obvious opening, “Is there a problem I can help you ladies with?”
“Look, Tilla, a delicious smelling boy has decided to come to this bitch’s aid,” one of the rat girls said.
“Young boy doesn’t know how dangerous these streets can be,” another said, a predatory look in her eye.
“Got any kids, boy?” the one named Tilla said. “Maybe we make you give us some. The city can never have too many rats.”
Ben gulped at the thought. He had never been raped and had no desire to get raped tonight. This wasn’t your typical group of rat girls more into pick pocketing and purse snatching. These girls were aggressive and mean.
“Look, you obviously want money,” Ben said. “Here, take my wallet. There’s not much, about Forty Lukas, but that’ll get you food for a couple days at least. I’m sure the lady can’t have much more than that.”
“Maybe not,” Tilla replied. “But we’ll take your money, her money, and fill our other bellies with your semen before we make you give us babies.”
“Have a care, rats,” the human woman said. “This young boy couldn’t possibly survive you three raping him so that you can eat and then raping him again for mating purposes. Aren’t there enough rats in jail?”
“In this city, he’s just going to be another body found in an alley,” Tilla said. “Happens all the time. Very unfortunate. So tasty smelling too.”
“Has to be an Earth boy,” one of the rat girls added. “That fine smell is hard to miss.”
“I think you better run, boy,” the brown haired woman said. “A kid like you with a bright future shouldn’t die in an alley like this. You don’t have to be a hero. Heroes die horribly.”
“No,” Ben said firmly. “I’m not leaving you to get beaten to death by these rats.”
“Oho,” Tilla said, laughing. “The boy does have delusions of being a hero.”
While Tilla was taunting him, the other two were getting around him to block his escape route. Ben was committed now. He would have to fight. The attack came suddenly, all three rats rushing him at once. They were fast, but not terribly strong, although stronger than most humans. Ben was in magnificent shape, however, a three sport athlete, lean and muscular and fast himself. He flailed around, landing punches left and right, doing his best to avoid the rat girls’ sharp teeth and claws. The woman simply watched the fray with a smirk, hands in her jean pockets. When one of the rats staggered towards her, reeling after a particularly strong punch from Ben to her skull, the human woman leveled her with a punch of her own, taking her out of the fight.
Tilla and her other companion were still battling, however, as the fight spilled out onto a busy street. Cars slammed on their breaks to avoid hitting the combatants as they rolled around in the street, all fists and claws and tails.
Ben was starting to fear that he was losing, until he heard sirens. A few seconds later, Tilla was roughly pulled off of him by a police officer and thrown to the ground, struck repeatedly with the officer’s baton. The other rat girl tried to run, but was chased down and tackled. Ben could see that the officer that had apprehended her was a dog girl, one of the few monsters that could catch a rat girl over a short distance.
“I didn’t do nuthin!” the rat girl protested. “it was just a misunderstanding!”
“Two rat girls beating on a young boy isn’t a misunderstanding!” the dog police officer growled. “That looked like an attempted rape to me! Are you okay, citizen?”
Ben rose and checked himself for cuts, to his relief finding none. He was a little bruised up, but imagined he would heal fast. He’d been lucky. Rats could do serious damage with their natural weapons. They’d been known to dominate human gangs despite the humans bringing switchblades, chains, and baseball bats.
“Let me go, you pig!” Tilla raged as she was forced into the police car, her friend joining her seconds later in the back. When the other officer turned to look at Ben, he saw that she indeed was literally a pig girl. The police profession was very popular among pigs and dogs, although two thirds of the force were still human in Edenburg.
The dog girl walked up to Ben with a pad to take his statement. He couldn’t help but notice how young and pretty she was. Dog girls, like rat girls, thrived in modern civilization, although their status was much higher than rats. Although they usually weren’t intelligent enough to go to college, they were almost universally law abiding citizens and gravitated to law enforcement. They loved humans, seeing themselves as protectors, especially of the young boys that were so often targeted for rape by various monster girls in the city. They were highly sought after as wives due to their intense loyalty and quickness to forgive almost any slight. No man married to a dog girl ever got nagged for leaving his underwear on the floor!
Ben read her name tag: Susan. Although most police officers preferred to go by their last names, dog girls preferred to be on a first name basis with everyone. As he gave his report, Ben also looked around for the woman he had tried to save. She was standing in an alleyway talking to another two police officers, humans, who had arrived to back up their comrades and collar the third rat girl.
Ben turned his attention back to Susan as he completed his statement. “Do you wish to press attempted rape charges?” Susan asked.
“Um…. I… I.. don’t think so,” Ben stammered. “Those poor girls, aren’t there enough rats in prison already?”
“Not nearly enough,” Susan said matter of factly. “Half our collars on any given day are rats.”
“I still don’t want to press any charges,” Ben said. “No harm, no foul, right?”
“Why don’t you give me your phone number and we can talk about it in case you change your mind?” Susan asked, maintaining her business like tone. “I can call you from the station, or maybe we can talk about it over coffee?”
“Um…. Sure, sure,” Ben stammered, looking to see if he had a pen and paper. “Um… can I borrow your…?”
“Oh, sure,” Susan said, handing her pad to Ben, who found a blank page and wrote his phone number on it. She smiled as he handed it back to her. “You can expect to hear from me.”
I hope so, Ben thought. This day had turned out better than he’d dared hope. He’d even gotten a bit of a civics lesson, first hand, that might give him more inspiration to pad his term paper. Rat girls were a genuine dilemma for society and there seemed to be no easy answers. Although Ben found Susan’s obvious prejudice off-putting. Civil rights groups constantly protested police brutality against rats, and he’d just witnessed a pretty rough arrest of the three, although in fairness they’d tried to do far worse to him.
The police left, leaving him standing on the sidewalk with crushed chips and donuts. At least he still had his wallet so that he could go back to the convenience store and buy more. Before he could begin making his way back to the store, he noticed that the brown haired woman was still standing at the entrance to the alley.
“That was pretty heroic of you,” she said. “I didn’t really need the help, but that was very impressive. You fight well for a human. Was that rat girl right that you’re of Earth ancestry?”
“Yeah, my great great grandfather immigrated here during the worldwide depression on Earth,” Ben explained. “My family has lived in Edenburg for the last two hundred years.”
“So that means you have monster blood too, right?” the woman asked. “Since no human can immigrate here without being brought here by a monster in the usual way.”
“Yeah, he was brought here by a monster,” Ben said. “They were married, had lots of kids, and I’m one of those descendants. It’s why I’m a little stronger and faster than most humans.”
Doh! Ben just realized that he’d completely missed an important subject in his term paper: the difference in physical ability between Earth descended humans, humans with monster blood, whether descended from Earth ancestors or not, and the relatively weak humans who were one hundred percent native to this world, with little or no monster blood. Although there was no discernible difference in intellectual capacity between those groups of humans, athletics were dominated by humans of mixed ancestry. Especially if that ancestry involved immigrants from Earth.
“So that explains why you could hold your own against three rats,” the woman said.
“Excuse me, I didn’t get your name,” Ben observed.
“It’s Pamela,” she answered with a smile. Without warning, her smile turned lewd and she pushed Ben up against a wall. “You know, as my knight in shining armor, you deserve a little reward.”
“Ulp,” Ben gulped. “It’s okay, really. I just didn’t want to see you get beaten and mugged, that’s all.”
“If you don’t want me to, all you have to do is tell me,” Pamela said, reaching into his pants and pulling them down, exposing his penis, which had become erect in anticipation.
The truth is, Ben wanted her to and didn’t at the same time. He was a virgin, had never even had a woman so much as touch him there. He wanted the first time to be special, and in an alley didn’t seem very special to him. And yet…. A grateful older woman rewarding him for saving her was pretty erotic. The idea was making him quite hot and bothered.
Noticing that he wasn’t objecting and that he had become rock hard, she stared into his eyes and began stroking him. He moaned in pleasure at her touch. She licked her hand to provide some lubrication, which caused him to moan even louder.
“I’ll never understand why this is so amazing for men,” Pamela said, still staring at him seductively. “All I’m doing is what you do to yourself, just with less skill because I don’t know what you like. What is it about this that’s so exciting for men?”
“It’s not my hand,” Ben gasped. “I’ve never had a woman touch me there before.”
“Ah, a virgin,” Pamela said, her warm, sweet breath making him even more excited. “I thought as much.”
She licked her hand again and began stroking him faster, causing his legs to buckle. She steadied him against the wall by leaning on his chest with her breasts, further adding to his excitement. A minute later he came, trying to stifle his cries so that no one would peek into the alley and see him in this compromising position.
Pamela was collecting his semen into her other hand. When he was spent, she pulled out a tablet, opened an aperture, and poured the semen into it. She gave a smirk of satisfaction as it came to life.
“Wait, did you just use me to charge your tablet?” Ben asked in disbelief.
“Check your privilege, boy,” Pamela responded. “We women don’t get to just charge our devices whenever we want like you do.”
“Um…. Yes you can!” Ben said, “Because nowadays everything charges with electricity! I’m sure you’ve heard of it! How old is that thing, anyway? I haven’t seen a semen powered device that wasn’t at least a hundred years old!”
“It’s a lot older than that,” Pamela said. “And it doesn’t just run on semen. It runs on solar power as well. Much greener than those big coal plants they use since they stopped collecting semen to power cities and villages.”
“A city’s power needs are too great for it to be possible to run one on semen now,” Ben noted. “Wait a minute, why am I even standing here discussing this with you? You just gave me my first ever handjob so you could power up your ancient device.”
“This ancient device does more than almost any modern device,” Pamela responded. “For example, it can do this.”
She raised the device up and a flash went off, nearly blinding Ben.
“Thanks for that,” Ben said. “And… and thank you for that very impersonal hand job. You do realize I can never have a first hand job again. You just wasted that one for me.”
“Shut up before I give you a blow job too,” Pamela said, staring at her tablet.
“You wouldn’t dare!” Ben said. “Would you?”
“You sound hopeful,” Pamela responded.
“No! No! Not hopeful!”
“Suuurreeee….” she said, then frowned at whatever she was seeing on the screen. “Hemmm.... Interesting..”
“What's interesting?” Ben asked. “You know what? I don't care. Thank you again. Now can I go get the things I came out here to buy and go home?”
“No,” Pamela said. “You’re not going home.”
“Not going home? What do you mean I’m not going home? I’m definitely going home! I can’t not go home! Are you going to try to kidnap me?”
“No, I’m not kidnapping you, I’m persuading you,” Pamela said. “I need you.”
“Need me? Need me for what?”
“We’re going to go on a quest for a thing,” she said matter of factly. “And you’d better not get too attached to all those firsts being special, because you’re probably going to experience all of them in very awkward and occasionally violent situations on this quest.”
“I’m not going on a quest!” Ben protested. “I have… school! Term papers! Finals! I’m trying to get into Wentworth College!”
“You’re that smart?” Pamela asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you taking your classes online?”
“Yeah I’m taking my classes online! Doesn’t everyone!”
“No, in some places they actually go to a real classroom,” Pamela said. “You do realize Wentworth uses real, physical classrooms?”
“I know that! I also play sports on real fields!”
“Well good,” Pamela said. “Perfect timing, then. Sports are over for the year.”
“You’re acting like I’m actually going with you,” Ben said. “Why do you want me to go on this stupid quest with you?”
“Because you’re the most promising candidate I've encountered,” Pamela replied. “And I’m running out of time. The world is running out of time.”
“Geez, could you be any more cryptic?” Ben asked. “I… I’m going to need more than that before running off to go find a thing.”
“The fact that you’re still asking me about it tells me that you’re going,” Pamela said smugly. “You have an instinct for helping people.”
“No, no, no….” Ben stammered. “I’ve never done what I did back there in my life. And I’ve certainly never gone on a quest, unless you count fetching donuts for my mom as a quest.”
“Well, you’re about to go on one now,” Pamela said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’ve just bought us plane tickets.”
“Plane tickets? To where?”
“Grand Noah,” she said. “It’s the first place I want to look for the thing.”
“Why don’t you go find the thing yourself?” Ben asked.
“Because I can’t use the thing,” Pamela answered. “You might just be able to, however.”
“I’ll give you my address!” Ben suggested. “Then you can bring me the thing!”
“Sorry, once the enemy Is aware that I’m looking for the thing in question, there’s going to be a target on your back and on the backs of everyone I’ve talked to that is a prospect for using the thing. You’ll be safer on the move, especially if you’re with me.”
“You’re a crazy woman! Are you saying you put me in danger just by talking to me?”
“No, I put you in danger by doing this,” she said, flashing him with her tablet again.
“That’s great, now you just did it twice!”
“So you have no choice but to come along,” she said. “Going back to your folks’ house will just enable the enemy to track you there and hurt your parents. You keep them safe by not going back.”
“Can I at least call them?”
“You can probably get away with that,” Pamela said after some thought. “Just make sure you use a cell phone and keep the conversation short. The enemy isn’t very tech savvy. She operates mainly by smells and impressions. She’ll start tracking you here once she’s aware of you. She’ll then follow your movements from this point on. Thus the reason you can’t go back home.”
“Assuming you’re telling me the truth here, when can I go home?”
“When you find and use the thing and defeat the ancient evil that threatens the world.”
“You’re going to have to give me a lot more than that,” Ben said. “am I going to get more terrified the more you tell me?”
“Definitely,” Pamela said, grabbing Ben’s hand and leading him back onto the sidewalk. “First, we need to catch a bus to the airport. We’ll miss our flight.”
Oh please let this just be a crazy woman, Ben prayed.

To Ben’s surprise and delight, Pamela had sprung for first class tickets. Ben had never flown first class before. So much leg room!
As the plane taxied for takeoff, Ben turned to Pamela. “So you must be pretty well off to just buy first class tickets on hours’ notice.”
“I’ve saved my pennies here and there,” she replied.
“So how does this work?” Ben asked. “I just do my homework and term paper and stuff while I’m out on this quest? Will I have time?”
“Don’t worry about that,” Pamela assured him. “You’re a high school senior, right? Nothing you’re doing is challenging for me. You have the best tutor in the world. If necessary, I’ll do the work for you.”
“What, have you won Nobels or something?” Ben asked jokingly, still positive that this woman was insane.
“I’ve won twelve,” she replied with a smirk.
“Now I know you’re not on the level,” Ben said. “No one’s ever one more than two.”
“Not under the same name, no,” Pamela replied.
“So are you some kind of scientist?”
“You could say that,” she answered.
“Are you ever going to give me detailed answers to any of my questions?”
“Sure, when your questions are relevant to anything important,” she replied. “How well do you know your history?”
“Pretty well,” Ben said tentatively. “I’m better with modern history than medieval times or ancient history, but I got good grades across the board.”
“How much do you know about the Hero Luka?” she asked.
“Luka?” Ben asked. “I mean, he’s like George Washington and the messiah all rolled into one. He ended the conflict between humans and monsters, ushered in the era of coexistence that exists to the present day, and tamed the gods. At least that’s what the legends say.”
“Legend?” Pamela chuckled, eyebrow raised. “You think he’s just a legend?”
“I mean, it’s well established by historians that he was a real person. He married a Monster Lord back in the days when Monster Lords were powerful and together they ushered in a golden age. But no one believes those stories about gods, magic, all those great feats. I mean, it makes for awesome movies about his legend, but no one believes that stuff actually happened.”
“Believe me, it looked even cooler in real life,” Pamela said.
“You’re not much older than me, stop acting like you know the guy.”
Pamela gave a low laugh. “So what else have you been taught about his life?”
“Well, he and the Monster Lord, was it Alipheese the Eighteenth?”
“Alipheese the Sixteenth,” Pamela corrected.
“Yeah, that was it,” Ben said. “Luka had some kind of immortality ring, according to the legend, and had a long happy, marriage with her that produced twins. I forget, did one of them end up being Monster Lord?”
“No,” Pamela said. “They were mostly human, and in any case not powerful enough to compete in the succession contests. Alice ended up having a successor with another human. She became Alipheese the Seventeenth, the greatest Monster Lord in history.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Ben said, now remembering. “She reigned one hundred and eighty years and presided over the greatest peace and prosperity the world had ever known. Alipheese the Sixteenth had stepped down as soon as her daughter was ready to take over because she wanted to live a stress free life with Luka. Supposedly her position was causing tension in the marriage?”
“From time to time, yes,” Pamela confirmed. “There’d been a major conflict during Luka’s last big adventure that nearly broke their relationship. The issues were never completely resolved. Stepping down when she was only ninety did resolve those issues nicely, and gave the two of them another one hundred and twenty years of marital bliss.”
“But then she died,” Ben said. “And Luka married the Heavenly Knight, Granberia, a few years later.”
“Wrong again,” Pamela said. “He married Tamamo. Granberia turned him down.”
“Yeah," Ben said, snapping his fingers. "Luka married Tamamo, supposedly forever, since Tamamo was immortal.”
“And what happened after that?” Pamela prompted.
“That’s where the legend ends,” Ben said. “Some speculate that they still live happily ever after somewhere in the world. Others say that Luka died when he took his ring off voluntarily.”
“Why do you think he would do that?”
“He was human,” Ben mused. “We aren’t meant to live so long. Maybe he was just tired. Then there’s the other legend: that Eden took him directly to heaven as a reward for such a pious life.”
“Pious? That’s funny. What do you think happened?” Pamela asked.
“I think Luka Fateburn was some guy who lived a normal lifespan, probably died long before Alice, and they kept his legend alive to preserve hope in the world. As well as to deter those who would want to disturb what Luka and Alice had built. He never did anything really heroic after he supposedly defeated Ilias and the Dark God for the second time. There are no accounts of him doing anything after that point, actually. No documentary evidence that he existed beyond eighty years old. You want to know what I think happened? I think he died when Alice was ninety, and she was so distraught that she couldn’t do the job anymore and left it to her daughter.”
“Oh, is that what you think?” Pamela said, quite amused.
“Luka defeated the gods almost two thousand years ago. No one really knows what happened to him. Or what’s real and what’s fantasy.”
“You don’t say?” Pamela responded. “Did you ever hear anything about his plan to keep the world safe after he was gone?”
“No,” Ben replied. “Should I have?”
“Maybe, maybe not. So, you don’t believe in magic or gods?”
“Not really,” Ben answered. “Why, do you?”
“You first,” Pamela demurred. “So you aren’t religious either? Edenburg’s still a pretty religious city.”
“I’m not a follower of that faith. I guess I’m technically Jewish, since that’s been my family’s religion going all the way back to our Earth origins.”
“Ah, so you follow an Earth faith!” Pamela said. “There are a lot of Christians ever since the Big Immigration Wave. They still are outnumbered by the Eden followers, but the faith has been spreading.”
“Well, Judaism is similar to Christianity,” Ben said. “We worship the same God.”
“I know. Earth religions fascinate me. I’ve always wondered what they are based on, if the events described in their holy books really happened.”
“Of course they didn’t!” Ben said. “Just like none of that stuff with Ilias, or Eden, or the Dark God ever happened!”
“You seem pretty sure about that.”
“Aren’t you? I thought you said you were a scientist.”
“I’ve seen a lot of things, boy,” Pamela chuckled. “You’re going to see a lot as well, assuming you survive long enough.”
“That’s… very comforting, thank you. And why are you still calling me ‘boy’? Wait a minute, you’ve never even asked me my name!”
“Oh, what’s your name?” Pamela asked, sounding about as disinterested as it was possible to sound.
“It’s Ben,” he said, annoyed. “Benjamin Greenberg. What’s your name? I mean, your full name?”
“Pamela Stein,” she said, holding out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Stein? Are you Jewish too?”
“No, definitely not Jewish,” she said with a laugh. “I worship no gods. I’ve only ever believed in myself. And one other person.”
“Who was that?”
“We’ll get to that,” she said, blowing his question off. “First let’s talk about why we’re going to Grand Noah. There’s a tournament going on. Winner gets a ring. I want that ring. You’re going to win it for me.”
“Waitwaitwait, a tournament?” Ben asked in disbelief. “Monsters compete there! Not rat girls, but big, scary monsters! There’s no way I could win! Would they even let me compete?”
“Sure, there’s always openings ever since they stopped allowing rape in the coliseum. Now fewer people are interested in participating.”
“Yeah, but.. but.. there’s still hitting, and clawing, and biting, and swords, and axes…. I’ll get killed!”
“Oh, quit worrying!” Pamela admonished. “No one’s died in a tournament in at least five years!”
“Someone died last year!”
“Oh, really? I didn’t watch last year’s tournament. I thought the last death was five years ago.”
“There is no way I can win! That means there’s no way you’ll get that ring! What do you need it for, anyway?”
“The ring might be the thing,” she replied. “Powerful artifacts have been accidentally given away at Queen’s Cup tournaments from time to time over the years. Most of the time the prizes are just expensive baubles, but every once in awhile they get their hands on something truly powerful.”
“What, like magic? Are you serious?”
“Quite serious. But you’re probably right. Having you compete is a bad plan.”
“So you’re going to come up with a different plan, right?”
“No,” Pamela said.
“I don’t understand,” Ben said frantically. “I’m going to compete in the tournament even though I’m sure to lose, which means you don’t get that ring! How is that still your plan?”
“Because I don’t have a better one yet,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
If Pamela had a new plan, she wasn’t sharing. She checked herself and Ben into a fine hotel with two beds, much to Ben’s relief. She sure wasn’t being stingy with her money. She must be really well off, he thought as he jumped onto the most comfortable bed he’d ever laid in, and drifted off to sleep. It was past one in the morning. He still couldn’t believe he was going along with this insanity.
When he awakened, Pamela was already up, working on her tablet.
“You use that thing constantly,” Ben said. “Please tell me you’re not going to need to have me fill it like every day or something.”
“Don’t worry, my prude friend,” she said. “This thing can work continuosly for thirty days if there’s decent sunlight. Ten if there isn’t.”
“You’ve got an ancient tablet that lasts that long? I thought those tablets were only good for a day or two? Even modern tablets only work for five days!”
“I made some modifications,” she said smugly. “You probably won’t even survive long enough for me to need to pump you again.”
“Thanks again for that. Wonderful thing to hear so early in the morning. Why am I even doing this? I must be as crazy as you.”
“Because somewhere, deep down, you have the heart of a hero and you won’t risk this being the real thing and walking away. If I’m crazy, then you had a little crazy adventure and you go home. If I’m telling the truth, you’re embarking on the greatest adventure since Luka fought gods. You could be the one who saves the world.”
“So where is this threat?” Ben asked. “The world’s moving along just fine as it has for the last two thousand years!”
“So it seems,” Pamela responded. “The idea is to get you ready for what’s to come before the trouble really gets started. I like to be proactive.”
“And what’s coming?”
“Today, all that’s coming is the tournament,” she replied. “That’s more than enough excitement for you to worry about. Let’s go shopping. You’ll need a weapon.”
“Oh god, she’s buying me a weapon,” Ben fretted. “This is actually happening. Oh my God! I just realized! My dad watches that tournament! He’s gonna kill me!”
“Nah, I’m sure he’ll be proud of you,” Pamela said. “Call him after your first bout today, that way he’ll believe you when you say you’re in Grand Noah.”
“That’s great, just great! I’m in Grand Noah, I’m fighting in a tournament, I’m probably gonna get pulverized with my dad watching and then he’s gonna pulverize me when I get home. What the hell am I supposed to say to him?!”
“Tell him you did it for a girl,” Pamela replied. “it’s the truth, and dads understand that.”

Pamela and Ben browsed the weapon shop, looking for an appropriate gladiatorial style implement for Ben to use. The Queens Cup was the only true fighting tournament held in the world, and it was held once a year. The entire rest of the year, the coliseum hosted scripted gladiatorial contests, where no one really got hurt(most of the time), and contestants competed for the support of the crowd mainly through their exaggerated personalities. It was a lot like professional wrestling, but something about the coliseum created a mystique around the events that drew big crowds even though almost everyone knew it was fake.
But the Queens Cup was still real. Many of the fake performers who competed in the coliseum year round would compete in the Queens Cup, to satisfy fan speculation about how well they would do in a real fight. The betting was always intense, the arguments in the bars and by the water coolers even more intense. No human had won the Queens Cup in over one hundred years. Prior to that, a human had last won four hundred years ago. Ben sincerely doubted that he would be one of those rare winners. He was an athlete, but not much of a fighter. His reflexes and conditioning were useful against street thugs, but would be of little help against professional gladiators.
“Ah, this sword is good,” Pamela said. “Did you know that Luka won the Queens Cup using a sword like this?”
“I heard he won most of his matches with no weapon at all,” Ben said.
“I think you’re right. I knew he won the final match against Kyuba without a weapon, but I guess I didn’t remember how he won the undercard matches.”
“Did he only compete once?”
“Yeah, he always meant to go back if Granberia competed, but for some reason they never got around to it.”
“So I have no idea how to use a sword,” Ben said. “Maybe this?”
Ben grabbed a mace from the rack and gave it a couple of practice swings. It was too heavy.
“Hey, do you have a lighter version of this?” He asked the proprieter, a middle aged human male.
“Maces don’t come light, son,” the man answered. “Your choices are sharp, or heavy. A light mace doesn’t get the job done.”
“Pamela, I don’t think we’re going to find anything I can use here,” Ben said. “C’mon, I have a better idea.”
“Oh, now you have ideas?” Pamela said sarcastically. “I can’t wait to see this.”

What “this” was, looked utterly ridiculous to Pamela. Ben was standing in front of her wearing a football helmet and shoulder pads, a catcher’s chest protector, while wielding a baseball bat. The look on her face said, “we are so screwed.”
“What? It’s a weapon I can use well, and it’s armor. Look, I don’t know fighting, but I know sports. This stuff feels like a second skin to me”
“Assuming they let you use it in the coliseum,” Pamela said skeptically. “It’s not regulation, but I guess it’s not very dangerous to your opponent. Maybe they’ll allow it.”
“Assuming they even let me in,” Ben reminded her.
“Oh, that’s already done,” she said, holding up her tablet. “I already registered you online. See? You’re a fifteenth seed!”
“There’s only sixteen competitors!” Ben protested.
“I wonder who they judge to be worse than you?”
“if I’m a fifteenth seed, that means in a field of sixteen, I draw the second seed! That’s going to be like… the second toughest competitor! Probably a huge monster! I am so going to die!”
“No you won’t,” Pamela assured him. “The good news is that if you beat the second seed, it’s smooth sailing until the finals. So just win your first match! It’s easy when you think about it that way!”
“Yeah, easy.” Ben said. I am so dead, he thought.
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Monster Girl Quest-The Next Generation