Indeed, Osmo had counted correctly. The jerk and his four thug companions tightened the circle around the young man. While the jerk had no weapon, Osmo noticed that everybody else carried a makeshift bat, and all the bats were being waved menacingly in the air. The opponent on the jerk's left rushed in to attack first, trying to catch Osmo with an old broomstick.
Osmo ducked and the broom handle sliced through the air, contacting nothing until it clubbed the goon directly behind Osmo. And the first attacker gasped in surprise because Osmo had latched onto the stick as it had swung, and, using the momentum of the flying broom handle, tugged that guy holding it off his feet. The guy's weight, which he had put behind his swing, carried him into another member of the brave gang which attacked a solitary person with such large odds.
And that was how the battle continued for a few minutes. Osmo gave better than he received, because he mostly managed to keep from getting hit. Of course, he couldn't evade their sticks all night long, and he suffered a few bumps and bruises, but not like the ones he gave to them.
The backdoor opened, and Albert called out, "Hey, what's taking you so long? That boob didn't knock you out, did he- Whoa! What's this?"
Osmo had sent one of the attackers sprawling in Albert's direction. The tossed miscreant smashed into the doorway, almost landing into Albert, who quickly stepped aside. Albert gave the dazed man a boot to the butt, and so the man flew inside the open door, coming to rest on the floor of the Tourist Trap.
The manager threw a fit. "This is how things get damaged. I've had enough! I'm calling the police!"
Albert called to Sheila and Mita, "Hey, there's a bunch of no-goods all fighting Osmo at once- he was set up!" Without hesitation, Albert ran outside to aid his pal.
Sheila jumped up from the table and also hurried for the open doorway to assist Osmo. As she headed toward the door, she called to Sec. Ldr. Clyden, "Don't just sit there! You're security. Do I have to tell my uncle you're afraid to bust up a barfight?" She was out the door in a flash, and she and Albert helped improve the odds dramatically.
Clyden told Gazelle, "You wait here. I guess there's more of 'em out there. Who would've expected that?" He, too, raced for the back door, nearly stumbling over the worn-out looking robot tending to the tables- one of the few robots in this financially hurting district.
"Hey! Watch the robot! I can't afford another one!" the barkeep shouted. "Oh, sorry, didn't realize it was you, sir," he mumbled, catching Clyden's eye as the security leader exited.
The rest of the patrons tried to figure out what the heck was going on.
Together Osmo's team made short work of the gang.
Gazelle, anxious for Clyden and also concerned for Osmo, who had been fighting the bums by himself for quite awhile before help came, ignored Clyden's request to stay at their booth. She rushed outside, only to see the last of them standing right by the door as he took one final swing at Sheila. Sheila dodged, and an iron pipe missed her, only to collide with Gazelle's temple. Stunned, Gazelle fell backward against the wall. The wall kept her from falling down onto the ground.
The trouble-makers all vanished into the night.
Sheila embraced Osmo. "Oh, oh, how badly did they hurt you?"
But Osmo called after the retreating thugs, "Yeah, you better run, before I get mad!"
Clyden noticed Gazelle holding her head and trying to stay on her legs. "Hon, you shoulda listened to me! Are you okay?!"
Gazelle tried to shake the cobwebs from her skull. "I think so. Luckily that on swings like a girl!"
Albert said, "Well, that can be pretty hard; did you see how Sheila put the hurt on them?"
Gazelle forced a laugh. "What will Capt. Shatner say? The night before I finally am able to return to Earth, and I get into a fight."
Mita came outside to see what the fuss was all about. "Oh, that's terrible," she said, when Albert filled her in on what had happened. "I can't stand cowards who need to fight in packs." Albert noticed she never asked Osmo how he was, but it was obvious Osmo was okay, just a bit banged up. Still, that never stopped Mita in the past from rushing to his aid.
Osmo wondered, "Now what was that all about? Who would want to beat up lovable me?"
Then some uniformed Security Agents showed up, but Clyden explained the situation had been resolved and dismissed the police. Everybody split up and headed out.
Clyden and Gazelle walked up the street to his car.
Gazelle held her aching head."I don't understand why you parked so far away, now that you made your spot a reserved parking spot."
Clyden shrugged. "Why not? I got to thinking about what the punk said last Saturday, that I'm getting a gut on me. Maybe a little exercise will be good for me. Say, maybe we ought to get you to the doc to look at your head."
When the couple reached the car, Clyden paused a moment, hearing a "Pssst" come from a nearby dark alley. Then he ignored it and opened the door for Gazelle. Again, "Psssst! Over here!"
Gazelle still held her head. "Who is that, Tretl? Where are you going? You be careful-"
"It's nothing," he replied, turning into the alleyway to investigate. In the shadows waited the jerk from the Tourist Trap, who had been watching Osmo all day, and who had picked the fight.
"What do you want?" Clyden whispered to the riff-raff.
"I want more money is what I want. You said to meet ya here after, and you'd pay me the other half. You said it'd be just that kid. Not a whole free-for-all."
"You had a couple minutes all by yourselves with him, and you were unable to knock him down. I don't think you deserve the money you got," Clyden whispered back. "Now get out of here, before I arrest you for disturbing the peace! One of your men hit my girl with a metal bar!"
"Hey, don't threaten me-"
Like a cobra striking, Clyden's fist flashed out and struck the instigator in the face. He hit him a few more times, until the guy, woozy, moaned and sank down to the dirt of the alley. "See? That's how it's done. That's how you were supposed to knock out that Martin guy, so he'd get the message and leave our cozy little world. Next time you try to get more money that you didn't earn from me, I won't be so easy-going, Struber."
Clyden turned back toward the car, ready to leave the alley, and found Gazelle standing there at the entrance. She gaped at him in shock. "Oh, baby," he called to her with concern in his voice, "What are you doing up and about? You should be taking it easy. Go rest in the car and we'll go see a doctor."
"That's the trouble-maker. You hired him to cause some mischief! How could you! I know in your job you sometimes have to do bad things for the governor, but that young man had nothing to do with the governor. You had no reason to get him beat up. Why did you do that, Tretl?"
"This doesn't concern you, hon. Just forget it and let it go."
"Why, Tretl, why? I know I told you last week how rude the Martin kid was on the rocket, and I know he took your spot last week, but why beat him up for that?! Did you do it because you just don't like people with money who never had to work for it like you had to? Is that why? What kind of a man are you, that you would be so jealous of someone who never did you any harm?"
He took her by the shoulder. "Just calm down and get back into the car. We should get a doctor now to look at that crack on your head-"
She pulled free. "Let go of me. I don't need your help. I can get along just fine without you. I don't believe I want to see you anymore-"
"Hey, don't be rash. And don't be standing on a soap box, either. As you said, you know what kind of stuff I sometimes must do- Hey, what's wrong-"
Gazelle held her head tightly with both hands and shrieked. Her eyes turned upward and she collapsed, right near where the trouble-maker had fallen down, almost on top of the unconscious Struber. Clyden rushed to Gazelle's side to assist her.
She glared at Clyden. "Don't... touch... me..." And then she passed out. Clyden tried to wake her, but couldn't.
At the Hospital