"The War Squid"
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dochermes"The War Squid"
2/11/1983
I.
In the freezing seas off the Northwest Coast near Washington state, Atron the Destroyer tore swiftly through the water just beneath the surface. He was raging with a fury that was unusual even for him. At first, the Gelydra seemed to be a normal Human man six feet tall and lean, dressed in a skintight garb of grey sharkhide with the rough scaly side outward. But looking closer, one would see his whitish-blond hair was stiff and bristly like seal fur, the bones of his face were not quite right and his feet were twice as long as a normal person's. As he swam, those feet had spread open to reveal toes with wide webbing in between them. Atron swam with powerful kicks of legs that never tired, shooting through the murky water faster than the fastest fish.
One of the Gelydrim of Ulgor, Atron Ke had been exiled to the real world for years now but had not come close to accepting his fate. He had tried to make the best of things. Here off the Northwest shores of America, he had found the ruins of an Ulgor outpost from centuries ago and he had rebuilt it into his own little palace. Exploring, hunting, fighting with the monsters of the deep, he had kept busy enough to pass the time. Perhaps he would have found some measure of peace if the surface people had not been so foolish and thoughtless. It was too bad those sailors had had to die, but they would not listen and they had left him no choice.
Diving sharply, Atron saw below him the circular stone walls and flat roof of the military outpost left behind by his people. Two hundred years ago, they had come to this real world to establish a few footholds and to bring back sea life which did not exist in Ulgor, delicacies the Lords of Ulgor craved for their feasts. With great labor, Atron had repaired this outpost and made it his home.
Standing in front of his palace without diving suit or scuba gear was a huge surface man wearing an outfit of snug black rubber on his massive body. The bald head and deepset eyes were upturned to watch. Not breathing, not needing to breathe, Karl Eldritch watched his supposed partner approach and silently planned the next stage of his scheme.
II.
At the bitter cold dawn of February 11th, the USS AEGIR left San Diego and headed northwest at cruising speed. Its departure had not been announced to avoid newsmen and the curious. The AEGIR was still a novelty that the public wanted to know more about, the most advanced nuclear submarine in the world and one dedicated to scientific research rather than for military uses. Five hundred and twenty-six feet long with a beam of forty-three feet, shaped like a torpedo except for a distinctive manta-shaped prow, the AEGIR had been the subject of many articles and even a special feature on 60 MINUTES.
At the prow were three curved windows of plexiglass six inches thick to resist the water pressure of the deep. Every inch of the walls was covered with electronic equipment.. dials, gauges, screens, rows of buttons and switches, color-coded cables. Standing at the command station in his khaki uniform with tie and radiation badge, Admiral Quincy W McCormack stood with folded arms and no one bothered him as long as he seemed lost in thought. A genius leading a hand-picked team of engineers and physicists, McCormack had spent eight years designing and building the AEGIR. Its first four missions had all been pure research, then it had been sent to rescue the crew of a sunken ship before their air ran out and after that the AEGIR was front page news all over the world.
At sixty, McCormack was getting stocky. He had crisp greying hair and a neat mustache beneath an admittedly bulbous nose, with bushy eyebrows. Suddenly he cleared his throat and turned to face the young man standing just to his right. Tall and fit, Captain Donald Amberson had dark movie-star good looks but his record in the US Navy was impeccable and he was the most suitable candidate possible to command AEGIR. The research sub was privately owned by McCormack's Mentor Foundation, but worked with the Department of Defense for funding and logistics. Reluctantly, McCormack had included forward torpedoes and two ballistic missles in the design, but the AEGIR was not meant to be a weapon of war.
Standing behind the two officers were two men who were not part of the crew nor resident scientists. Jeremy Bane stood with folded arms, soberly watching through the front windows as the sub sped through the ocean at 40 knots while submerged to 90 feet. Bane was wearing the black field suit with its heavy boots, pants, and waist-length jacket. In the crook of his arm, he held a visored helmet. Although the men of the AEGIR did not know it, that field suit could seal water-tight. With an oxygen tank attached to the helmet, it would serve as a diving suit. The Dire Wolf had done so before, and he wore the suit now ready for use. Next to him, Stephen Weaver was also staring out at the depths.
McCormack twisted his head around to regard his guests. "You haven't said much, Mr Bane."
"No. I'm watching and hopefully learning," answered the Dire Wolf. "This sub is an impressive piece of work, Admiral. But if I'm right, we're heading to face an enemy more powerful and more unpredictable than any hostile nation."
"I'm still not sure what organization you represent," interrupted Captain Amberson. He had been watching Bane and Weaver with unconcealed suspicion since they had boarded the sub. Amberson had experienced some clashes with Soviet spies a few years earlier and had never gotten over it.
"I'm from the Kenneth Dred Foundation," Bane answered coolly. "KDF. We are a research group investigating paranormal claims. You've seen my clearance. The FBI vouches for me and for my partner here."
"Not just the FBI, but their Department 21 Black. They're an interesting bunch." Amberson turned to look at Weaver. "And you, sir. In addition to the FBI voucher, you have backing from the Air Force."
Stephen Weaver smiled easily. He was a young black man with very dark skin and a thick mustache. Like Bane, he was just over six feet tall and slim to the point of being almost gaunt. On board the sub, he had changed into dress slacks and tan polo shirt. "That's right. Combat helicopter pilot and field repair specialist, Lt Stephen Weaver of the United States Air Force. Discharged with honors and still serving on call as needed."
"But that's not all, is it? I heard something about a secret project, the Black Angel."
"I couldn't comment on anything secret, could I? You're a Commander in the Navy yourself, even though you're addressed as 'captain' because you're running this sub. You understand discretion," Weaver told him evenly.
Amberson grinned unexpectedly. "You handled that well, Mr Weaver." He looked over his two guests. "The complete disappearance of three fishing boats off the Washington coast has naturally caused an uproar. Sightings of unexplained huge marine creatures have added to the commotion. That's what the AEGIR was designed to investigate."
"It's what we were designed to investigate as well," Bane said with no trace of humor in his voice.
III.
The main room let light in through high narrow window openings barred with metal strips. Atron Ke was seated stiffly on a throne built of stone blocks with sponges for padding, posing as if a king receiving supplicants. On top of the high pointed back of the throne was a pair of Great White jaws fastened to gape behind Atron's head. The throne room was decorated mostly with trophies of creatures that he had killed himself, ranging from a huge Moray Eel forty feet long to the skull of a Polar bear. Many were deepsea beasts not known to the surface world. An armorplated fish like a barracuda with long upper fangs, a Human-sized starfish with poisonous grippers on its arms, a scorpion the size of a horse. Much of Atron's time had been spent seeking out these monsters and challenging them.
There was also great wealth on display. In the years of his self-imposed exile, the Destroyer had plundered sunken ships and retrieved a huge amount of precious stones, gold and silver in various forms. On a carved pillar sat a pearl larger than his head, which he had taken from a giant clam personally. When he had moved among the surface people, Atron could have done so as a millionaire.
In front of the throne was a bench, but Karl Eldritch did not choose to sit down. Seven inches over six feet tall, when standing he was still at face level with Atron on the throne. He wanted to keep this level rather than appear as an inferior. Under a heavy brow ledge, the pale hazel eyes watched the Gelydra warily. Eldritch knew he was dealing with a dangerous warrior infamous for fits of berserker rage.
For his part, the Destroyer stared back with cloudy blue eyes that were always suspicious. Atron was bitter beyond words at his lot in life. "So. You still have not explained to me how you can breathe underwater, warlock?"
"I am breathing in seawater now, although I don't need to," Eldritch answered. "Only I know the secrets of the ancients, of Zhune which fell ages ago. The scientists of Zhune had discovered the ultimate secret of the universe. They could change matter into energy and energy into matter. My body is charged with primal atomic fire. It absorbs any attack done it and turns that into usable energy."
"I have never heard of such a thing before," Atron said. "You must be a formidable opponent."
"Undoubtedly. Yet I am beginning to see the wisdom of avoiding confrontation. One gets more accomplished without conflict. Is the water outside cleaner now?"
"It is beginning to clear," the Destroyer growled. His eyebrows lowered and even Eldritch felt a bit threatened. "The arrogance of the surface men! They dump the deadliest poison they know into the ocean. MY ocean! My home. I was weak and sickly for days. When the second ship arrived, I took no chances and confronted them."
Eldritch was careful to keep his voice neutral. "They would not listen, though."
"No! They thought I was a madman, some sort of stray surface dweller who had fallen overboard and managed to reach their ship. When I demanded they turn back, some of them laid hands upon me. That cannot be borne, of course, so I slew them all. I let the ship drift miles away, further out to sea, before scuttling it."
"Atron," the giant warlock said, "There will be more such ships. You have sunk three, but there will be more. Even worse, the surface men will send real warriors to confront you. These were unarmed sailors, you will facing the Marines and Navy SEALs."
"Let them come! Do you think I fear any air-breathers? I am Atron Ke, the Destroyer, exposed to the Sulla Chun at birth. I fear nothing that lives." The Gelydra leaped to his feet with a clenched fist gesturing angrily. "Indeed, I would welcome one of their warships." At his temples, two round bumps suddenly extended into fleshy horns like those of a snail. Eldritch was not startled by this. He had known Atron was one of the rare Geldyrim who possessed that trait. The horns emitted a high-pitched noise used mostly for echolocation when light was absent, but at highest intensity the sound could be a weapon that stunned and disoriented enemies. The Destroyer seemed unaware his horns were out.
"Ah, but I do not think they will send a warship. I know they have a new research submarine in California ready to sail. I think the government will ask the commander of the AEGIR to come up here and investigate the mystery. This is why I have proposed we work together."
Atron suddenly grinned. "You want that submarine for yourself, don't you? Isn't that it?"
"Exactly. With the AEGIR under my control, I can recover more artifacts of Zhune that I cannot locate now. Perhaps you will travel with me, explore the ocean. The seas are vast, Atron, there are thousands of square miles you would never see by yourself."
"Hah! I am no fool. I see you intend to use me for your purposes, Eldritch. You cannot trust a warlock. I learned that from Li Tung." Atron sat back down again and folded his hands in his lap. "And yet, so long as our interests coincide...."
"I see you understand the realities of life," Karl Eldritch told him.
IV.
Five hours crawled by. Weaver had developed a knack for napping whenever possible, so he simply found a corner, folded his arms and closed his eyes and was lost to the world. Bane however was restless and itchy at the best of times and the day was torture for him. He prowled the submarine as far as he could, getting turned back continually. He watched the crew at their posts, annoyed researchers who were busily taking notes and conferring, and finally ended up sitting in a chair quietly doing isometric exercises until his arms ached. After what seemed like days, a crewman came over and told them it was their turn for chow.
Like the rest of the AEGIR, the galley was cramped and every inch was intended to be used. Only twelve people could be seated at a time at the two tables, so the eighty-man crew and the guests had their meals scheduled. At the time allotted to them, Bane and Weaver sat in the chairs and dutifully ate a meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, peas and carrots with a Dixie cup of vanilla ice cream. Coffee was available, which Bane declined but Weaver accepted.
Sitting to their right were crew members digging in. The AEGIR was mostly staffed by Americans, but there were a number of German and Korean crew members for some reason, as well as a dozen researchers aboard for various projects. Because of their nearby presence, the two KDF members did not discuss the mission they were on, but instead chatted about trivial matters.
"See, that's why I try to always drink a big glass of water before going to bed," Weaver was saying. "Trust me, your mouth doesn't get all sticky and disgusting overnight. But you have to go pee when you wake up anyway, so what's the difference? Ah, hi there Admiral. We're just finishing up." Weaver put down his mug as McCormack approached their table.
"Good. Gentlemen, we need to talk." He watched silently as the two KDF members dumped their debris and returned the trays, plates and silverware to the proper area. McCormack led them from the galley through the narrow walkways to a door that said CONFERENCE NO ADMITTANCE. He opened it with an ID card fastened to his belt on a reel, then ushered them in. The room was small and held little more than a table with six chairs around it. Everything aboard the AEGIR was in subdued pastel shades to be less stressful for the crew on long voyages, and this room was painted in light green and olive. "Please be seated." As he pulled out the chair for himself, Admiral McCormack began with, "I know about Atron."
"I'm a little surprised," Bane responded. "I wouldn't think many Humans had heard about him."
"Oh, sailors hear a great many tales that they take more seriously than land people do," said McCormack. "For more than thirty years, there have been encounters with a blond savage who lives underwater, who sometimes rescues shipwrecked men but who also can be a brutal murderer with little provocation. Atron Ke, the Destroyer. My father told me about meeting him. I believe I myself once spotted Atron fifteen years ago in a storm, when I saw a man in the water staring at me. When I began to cry 'Man overboard' to rescue him, he swam away from the ship faster than a marlin."
"Sounds like Atron. I can tell you that he is not truly Human. He is a Gelydra, one of a cousin Race who live in a sunken realm called Ulgor which cannot normally be reached by people." Bane paused to see the reaction. "Atron has been exiled from his country because of his violent rages. He is much stronger than a Human and very difficult to harm. I've fought him a few times, and each time was an ordeal to be honest."
"And you think he has something to do with the three fishing boats which are missing?"
"I think there's a good chance," Bane said. "Atron was last seen up by British Columbia a year ago. Cold doesn't bother him, his people have outposts near the Arctic Circle. He might still be in the area. For some reason, he sticks close to large landmasses most of the time."
Steven Weaver had been silent so far, watching McCormack with thoughtful eyes. "Admiral, I know you have been cleared for Top Secret because of the nature of your work. The AEGIR is considered a top priority by the Defense Department because of innovations they hope to copy onto their own nuclear subs. Do you know the real story about those fishing boats?"
"I'm not sure I follow you," McCormack answered cautiously.
"Admiral. You're dealing with the KDF. We have a way to learning what is meant to be kept secret forver." Weaver leaned forward, and despite being in a closed room, lowered his voice. "We know those boats were actually dumping toxic waste from Project Regulus."
McCormack gave a start, staring at the young black man in horror, then turning to Bane with fearful eyes.
"Oh yes," said the Dire Wolf. "There's no use beating around the bush with us. Intelligence agencies are forced to deal with the KDF because we can't be kept in the dark. We're not part of the usual games of deception and betrayal that agencies like INTERCEPT and the Mandate play. Project Regulus! That's playing with genetic gunpowder. And dumping the byproducts in the ocean seemed like a good idea to them. Except they happened to unload it right where Atron has set himself up."
Admiral McCormack sputtered and half rose. "I'll call security. The guards will throw you two into solitary confinement."
"They could try," Bane said coldly. "Calm down, Admiral. We're here to help. Steve and I have a plan to take Atron prisoner if he is there. Before he can wreck this submarine as well."
"Wreck... the AEGIR?" yelled McCormack. "One man? One man against the most advanced vessel in the world today?"
"You don't know Atron," Bane said calmly.
The intercom by the door buzzed loudly three times and McCormack shot to his feet to press the button. "I'm here."
"Admiral," said a voice, "sonar is picking up something big coming our way. Captain Amberson wants you on the bridge."
"Another sub?"
"Techs don't think so. It's big and fast."
"I'm on my way." McCormack broke off to find Bane and Weaver standing beside him. "I suppose it's best you come come along, then." The three of them hurried down the cramped walkways, turning sideways to let crew members squeeze past, until they reached the bridge. Here a half dozen men sat at their stations, monitoring equipment and taking readings. A six-foot high video screen showed what cameras in the prow were seeing, so far nothing but cold dark water with occasional fish swimming close. Then something dark, bigger than a Greyhound bus and approaching quickly, loomed up in the distance. Alarms sounded and red lights flashed on the bridge.
V.
Atron had learned as a child the Ulgoran techniques for taming great near-mindless creatures of the deep. Most feared of these was the War Squid. He had to dive deep at first to roust one, using the sonic pulses from his horns to steer the monster the way he wanted it to go. Over time, he found that the beasts had started to stay closer to the surface, almost as if they enjoyed being under his control. It was strange but he had not given it much thought, nor did he have any definite plans for using the creature. Taming a few War Squids was just a way to occupy his time and they might be convenient at some point. Now that opportunity had presented itself.
Its sixty-foot long cylindrical body was black and shiny, and its tentacles whipped about furiously as it swam directly toward the oncoming AEGIR. Strapped to a sharkhide saddle behind the staring eyes sat Atron with a viciously-pointed prod, goading the great beast on. The submarine had started to slide down and to its starboard in obvious hopes of avoiding collision. Atron let the vessel pass beneath him and spurred the War Squid to seize the rear guidance vanes with its tentacles. The sub kept moving but was diverted and turned over on its side, then steered to start rising to the surface. The Squid hung on with immeasurable strength, forcing the AEGIR to rise despite itself.
The struggle took place with glacial slowness. The sub's nuclear reactor and pulse jets gave it enough propulsion that it should have been able to break loose, but the War Squid was unnaturally strong. It was a different species from the specimens of Giant Squid that surface scientists had obtained samples of. The War Squid was considerably larger and heavier, its tentacles shorter and thicker. Even the sperm whales who fed on Giant Squid left these monsters alone. Unable to control its guidance vanes, the AEGIR could not get free but it could resist being forced to the surface and it did.
Then, from the forward torpedo hatch rushed a spout of compressed air and a human form shot out with lightning speed. It was a man in a black rubber suit with red trim, wearing an oxygen tank hooked to a helmet with a crest. At his waist was a one-foot long steel cylinder with a cable connected to a thin rod the man held in his right hand. Weaver had changed into his Black Angel uniform but left the aluminum-and-nylon wings behind for underwater use. Doing a jackknife, he reversed course and whipped through the water back toward where the Squid was wrestling with the nuclear sub.
Weaver's unprecedented ability at levitation had led to the Air Force starting the Black Angel project years earlier. He could fly under his own power at speeds up to seventy miles per hour, and when underwater he managed fifty knots against the resistance. Now he sped toward the War Squid with amazing speed, as fast as Atron himself could have managed. Surprised at seeing this attacker rushing toward him, the Destroyer hesitated and did not react instantly. Then he kicked loose from the sharkhide saddle and rose up to do battle. By then it was too late.
Accelerating sharply, Black Angel closed in and extended his arm. From the metal wand, a cloud of white smoke exploded under pressure to engulf Atron entirely. The vapor clung and boiled around the Gelydra. Atron convulsed wildly, doubling up and then thrashing with his arms and legs before going limp. It was a concentrated dose of the anesthetic the KDF used in their dart guns. Weaver clipped the wand to his belt and seized the unconscious Gelydra under the arms, then swung around to zoom back toward the front of the AEGIR. Even though Atron was limp and harmless at the moment, Weaver wasn't sure how long the powerful Destroyer would remain so and he wasn't enthused at the prospect of having a grip on a reviving Atron.
Using the radio in his helmet, Weaver requested the airlock be opened. It took five minutes to get through the outer hatch into the waiting chamber, they had to wait for the water to be pumped out before the inner hatch could be opened and they could step into the interior. Atron still showed no signs of stirring. Immediately, two of the biggest crewmen on the crew seized the Gelydra and secured him with handcuffs behind his back and leg manacles that only allowed a few inches movement between the ankles. Jeremy Bane had supplied these restraints, which were considerably thicker and of a higher grade steel than normal. He directed the crewmen to haul Atron to the brig.
As Weaver unfastened his helmet and drew it up off his head, a black crewman came to assist him in getting the SCUBA tank off. "Always wanted to meet you," the crewman said with a slight Georgia accent. "But tell me the truth, what's with the 'Black' Angel stuff? If you were Chinese, would they call you Yellow Angel?"
Unzipping the heavy rubber outfit to the waist, revealing a tan T-shirt beneath, Weaver laughed. "I know, right? It annoyed me at first, but I got used to it. Once I asked to be called African-American Angel and the brass didn't know what to say." He chuckled. "Ah, they don't mean any harm."
"I suppose not. Anyway, glad you're here. We watched you on the external cameras. Amazing! I'm still shook up at the size of that squid, not to mention that nut riding it like a horse..!"
Weaver clapped the man on the shoulder. "It's a crazy world, my brother. Most people don't know a teeny bit of all the weirdness going on out there. Catch you later." Carrying the fibreglass helmet under one arm, Weaver headed past staring crew members down a walkway to where a guard stood in front of an open door marked CONFINEMENT. He entered a room with the usual pastel-colored metal walls. It held two bunks, one fastened three feet above the other, and on the lower bunk, Atron was stretched out. The Gelydra was breathing normally and did not seem to be harmed.
Standing next to Jeremy Bane were McCormack and Captain Amberson. They looked up as Weaver entered.
"Atron seems okay," Bane told his partner. "That was a heavy dose he got but we couldn't take any chances. Good work, Steve."
"Yeah, I'm not eager to duke it with that guy," Weaver admitted. "So, what about his pet out there?"
Amberson glanced up. "The squid is still trying to force us to the surface. I've given orders to cut the engines to minimum and let the AEGIR rise. We were straining our engines resisting and the guidance vanes were going to be damaged."
"It was the right decision," McCormack said. "Maybe on the surface we can dislodge that monster somehow."
Bane agreed. "And without Atron to control it, it might get bored or hungry and just go about its business. I can't predict when this guy will come to, gentlemen, but I do know him and I guarantee he's going to react violently. Better that we're not right next to him."
"All right," Amberson said. "I need to be on the bridge to see what that squid is doing and get any damage reports. Keep me posted."
"Very well," Admiral McCormack acknowledged. "I'll be joining you shortly." After Amberson left, the man who had designed the AEGIR regarded Bane and Weaver soberly. "All the tall tales that sailor spin. Now I wonder how many of them are true, after all. This man lives underwater. And he made a squid bigger than any on record seize hold of my submarine. What else is out there that I don't know about?"
"Lots," Weaver told him with a wry smile. "You're just scratching the surface of the Midnight War."
VI.
Standing in the walkway outside the brig, Weaver said, "So, Jeremy, what's your plan for Squid Vicious out there?"
"Wait, what?"
Black Angel grinned. "Squid Vicious. You know, like the singer. Sid Vicious?" Seeing a blank response, he went on, "There was a punk rocker named Sid Vicious. From the Sex Pistols. He died real young. I forget sometimes you never listen to music, Jeremy."
"Sorry if I don't get your jokes," Bane said. "Anyway, I've been thinking about how to force that monster to let go of the sub. Maybe we can go out there with a few grenades and scare it away."
"And have an enraged cephalopod with tentacles over a hundred feet long chasing us? I don't know if that's a good idea, captain. How about heating up the hull with torches until it gets uncomfortable and Squid Vicious gives up?"
The Dire Wolf nodded. "Could work. I don't think Atron is going to be too cooperative." His grey eyes narrowed as they heard a furious bellow from the brig behind them, then a loud thud. They spun and entered to find the Gelydra rolling around on the metal floor and struggling against the handcuffs. The fleshy horns were full extended and his face was red.
Stepping closer, Bane crouched and caught his eye. "Settle down there, Atron. You're not going anywhere for the moment."
"Dire Wolf! I did not expect you to be dealing with these scum. Let me free! They are poisoning the oceans!" The Destroyer rolled over and sat up. "Free me, I say."
"Calm down," Bane said. "Yes, we found out they were dumping chemical waste in the water. It was illegal. The company has stopped and will be facing a stiff fine, not that they care. But at least they won't be dumping again."
"So they say!" Atron roared, trying to get to his feet. "Can you believe them? I expected better from you, Bane! We have fought each other and we have fought alongside each other. I thought you a man of honor."
Unexpectedly, Bane knelt behind the Destroyer and unlocked the heavy duty handcuffs. "You realize I don't have to do this, don't you?" He took another key and released the ankle restraints. "Show me I'm not making a mistake."
Atron became much quieter instantly. His cloudy blue eyes widened and then he exhaled sharply and visibly relaxed. "Clever. Now I am in your debt for freeing me. You are shrewd, Dire Wolf. Very well." He rose to his feet and rubbed the raw skin on his wrists.
"You have your own code of honor," Bane admitted. "This submarine had nothing to do with that dumping of waste. The people aboard are not warriors, they are scientists and explorers. Okay?"
"I believe you. You have spoken only truth to me since we first met." Atron glanced over at Weaver. "And you, the Black Angel. Both of you risked your lives to help New Ulgor years ago when you did not have to. You are both good men." The Gelydra started to head for the door of the brig. "I will leave now."
"Whoa, what about your pet out there?" asked Weaver quickly. "You know, the big guy?"
"The War Squid? I will take him with me."
"Not so fast," Bane said as he stepped in the way. "Have you forgotten the ships you sank in the past month? Fifty-six men are missing and presumed dead, and you know damn well they ARE dead because you killed them. You're not going to just dive overboard and swim happily away."
Atron gave the Dire Wolf a quizzical look. He was one of the few who was not intimidated by the cold grey eyes because he had fought Bane a few times and seemed evenly matched. "Are you going to bring me to trial, then? What court will you use? What will you tell your judge, that one man swam up to a fishing boat and killed everyone on board and then sank the boat, with nothing more than a long knife? They will think you have lost your senses."
"No, I'm not taking you to court. We are going to hold you ourselves in the cells on Hawk Island. I intend to turn you over to your own people, to the King of Ulgor, and request he keep you imprisoned." Bane did not flinch before the growing rage in the Destroyer's face. "Those men did dump illegal toxic waste, Atron, but they didn't deserve to be slaughtered like that. I'm taking you prisoner."
The Gelydra's voice got very low and soft. "You think so."
The tension of the moment was broken as Admiral McCormack came rushing up in distress. "Quick, hurry. You have to see this. It's insane. Hurry." He grabbed Bane by the arm, yanking him as he ran back along the walkway. The Dire Wolf went along in puzzlement, giving Atron a stern glare as he was hauled away.
Left alone with the Gelydra, Stephen Weaver shrugged. "We might as well see what's going on. We can always fight later."
Atron snarled deep in his chest but agreed. The two of them hustled to catch up to McCormack and Bane. Captain Amberson was already waiting. Everyone stopped at a metal ladder that led up to a circular hatch in the ceiling. The hatch had been opened, and they climbed up it into a cylindrical compartment that opened to reveal they were outside by the conning tower. It was freezing. February winds splashed salt spray in their faces. All five of them had enough room to stand on a round platform surrounded by an open railing. The bronze hull of the AEGIR stretched out in front of them. The conning tower, topped by various antennae and sensor apparatus was behind them. Immediately, their eyes locked in horrified fascination as the gigantic War Squid still clinging to the guidance vanes of the sub with an unbreakable grip.
The huge eyes of the monster focussed on Atron, as if recognizing him. The Destroyer smiled grimly at that.
A deep booming voice came up at them the surface of the sea. A small yacht, not particularly luxurious but well equipped, bobbed up and down almost within arm's length of the sub. Standing behind the wheel was a big man in a black rubber diving suit. As soon as he saw that hulk with the shaven head and the deepset hazel eyes, Bane suddenly understood.
"Eldritch again," he muttered as if to himself. Then his temper broke and he shouted down with raised fists, "Why won't you just stay dead? I keep killing you and you keep coming back! You're getting on my nerves, Eldritch."
A deep chuckle came from the warlock. "Ah, always a joy when old friends meet. Never fear, Dire Wolf, after today our paths will not cross again. Oh, and the Negro who flies, Black Angel isn't it? Nice to see you again as well."
Next to the conning tower, McCormack seemed to finally grasp the situation. "What the devil...? Who IS this lunatic? What does he want?"
Standing next to the admiral and the captain, Bane said quietly, "The most dangerous sorcerer in the world today. Let me do the talking." Raising his voice again, he shouted, "Fine, give us your speech, Eldritch. We'll listen."
"Hah! Listen well." The big man's voice carried with unnatural clarity. "I claim this submarine effective immediately. The crew and commanders will be allowed to remain and carry on their duties under my direction. I have no use for the researchers and journalists aboard, they must be thrown overboard-"
"Are you insane? In this weather? They'll be dead within minutes!" the Admiral yelled.
"Very well, you are expendable too." Eldritch raised a broad hand and searingly bright atomic fire crackled from it to explode against the man like a lightning bolt. A few parts of the Admiral were sent flying. A hand, a leg, part of the head, were all flung away into the water, but genius inventor Quincy W McCormack was gone forever.
Where he had stood, Captain Amberson sagged at the knees and almost had a heart attack. His eyes still saw the bright after-images of that flash of primal energy. Catching his breath seemed a struggle, as he grasped the railing and tried to keep his sanity.
"You seem to be in charge now!" Eldritch shouted to Amberson from his yacht. "Cooperate and live. If I wished, I could disintegrate this vessel and every living soul aboard it."
Amberson turned wild eyes at Bane, who nodded. "He could do it," said Bane. "We can't fight him directly. I've always had to use tricks."
"Atron! Hear me. I thank you for your help. You shall have a place of honor on the AEGIR as we explore the depths and terrorize the shipping of every nation. Now, bring the civilians out so we can dispose of them and get underway." The giant warlock gloated openly, delighting in the shocked expressions he was causing.
"Is this the kind of warrior code you follow?" Bane demanded harshly of Atron. "You talk of honor, is it just talk?"
Now Atron spoke for the first time. His gaze swept from the immense bulk of the War Squid still grasping firmly on the guidance vanes over to the yacht where Karl Eldritch stood. "I do not approve of this," he announced coldly. "I will not kill women and old men who have done me no harm."
"I thought you were harder than that!" shouted Eldritch. "Are you not the dreaded Destroyer?"
"Our partnership is ended," Atron yelled as he suddenly leaped straight up ten feet in the air and came down in a steep dive into the water on the side of the sub away from the warlock. Watching, Bane had a curious expression of hope on his face. Just maybe...
A minute later, the War Squid stirred, its tentacles wiggled and their grip slackened. The enormous body of the beast slid away from the AEGIR and submerged entirely. Atron was nowhere to be seen, but he had to be nearby to be directing the monster. The water boiled and surged as a gigantic mass moved just beneath the surface. Everyone held their breaths, uncertain what was about to happen. Karl Eldritch moved to the railing of his yacht, leaned over...and a tentacle as thick as his body whipped up to wrap around him and drag him beneath the surface. There wasn't even time to scream.
"Whoa!" said Weaver. "I did not see that coming."
"I was hoping for it," Bane snapped. "It all depended on how Atron reacted. Come on. Captain, we need to get below. The AEGIR needs to get away from here right now." The Dire Wolf shoved Amberson sharply into the conning tower and down the stairs to the bridge. As he followed, Weaver remained a second to match sure the hatch was secure.
"Get this tub moving fast," Bane told Amberson. "Any direction as long as it's away from here."
Seemingly in a daze, Amberson seized an intercom mike and thumbed the button that made a klaxon sound throughout the ship. "Now hear this," he announced clearly. "This is the captain speaking. The AEGIR is free. Proceed south by southeast at all possible speed, engage!" He hung up and sagged. Then the man turned shakily toward Bane. "McCormack... dead! He was blown apart just like that, right next to me! I.. I could have been killed too." His knees buckled and Bane supported him.
"Come on, come on," the Dire Wolf found a bench and dropped the captain on it. "Sit there. Let it sink in. You're going to be all right. The ship, the crew, we are all going to be fine. Say it. We're going to be fine, say it."
"We're going to be fine," Amberson repeated dully. He took a deep shuddering breath. "The poor Admiral. But we're going to be fine."
Weaver was watching the man unhappily. "I don't know about him."
"He took a jolt, that's for sure. What I'm worried about is a shock wave in the water if Eldritch blows up that monster with his atomic blasts." Bane tilted his head, holding onto a rail, as if listening. The minutes passed as they could the throbbing of the jet pumps from the stern. Finally, the Dire Wolf relaxed just a bit. "I guess it's okay."
"You think Eldritch is finally dead?" Weaver asked him.
"I wish!" Bane snorted. "How many times have we been sure he was destroyed and he just turned up again as if nothing had happened? No, I think we'll always have to be ready for his return. Maybe the best we can hope for is to get rid of him for a while until his body can reconstitute itself." Bane placed a hand on the shivering back of Captain Amberson. "Let's get this guy to sick bay, he's going into shock if I'm any judge."
Helping the captain up, Weaver said, "You know what I think? Or rather, what I hope? That Squid Vicious bit Eldritch's head off. He still can't die, but now his headless body is crawling around on the ocean floor, groping for the head to put it back again."
Bane gave one of his very rare laughs. "Hah! I like the way your mind works, Steve. Let's hope he has a long long search ahead."
11/24/2014
2/11/1983
I.
In the freezing seas off the Northwest Coast near Washington state, Atron the Destroyer tore swiftly through the water just beneath the surface. He was raging with a fury that was unusual even for him. At first, the Gelydra seemed to be a normal Human man six feet tall and lean, dressed in a skintight garb of grey sharkhide with the rough scaly side outward. But looking closer, one would see his whitish-blond hair was stiff and bristly like seal fur, the bones of his face were not quite right and his feet were twice as long as a normal person's. As he swam, those feet had spread open to reveal toes with wide webbing in between them. Atron swam with powerful kicks of legs that never tired, shooting through the murky water faster than the fastest fish.
One of the Gelydrim of Ulgor, Atron Ke had been exiled to the real world for years now but had not come close to accepting his fate. He had tried to make the best of things. Here off the Northwest shores of America, he had found the ruins of an Ulgor outpost from centuries ago and he had rebuilt it into his own little palace. Exploring, hunting, fighting with the monsters of the deep, he had kept busy enough to pass the time. Perhaps he would have found some measure of peace if the surface people had not been so foolish and thoughtless. It was too bad those sailors had had to die, but they would not listen and they had left him no choice.
Diving sharply, Atron saw below him the circular stone walls and flat roof of the military outpost left behind by his people. Two hundred years ago, they had come to this real world to establish a few footholds and to bring back sea life which did not exist in Ulgor, delicacies the Lords of Ulgor craved for their feasts. With great labor, Atron had repaired this outpost and made it his home.
Standing in front of his palace without diving suit or scuba gear was a huge surface man wearing an outfit of snug black rubber on his massive body. The bald head and deepset eyes were upturned to watch. Not breathing, not needing to breathe, Karl Eldritch watched his supposed partner approach and silently planned the next stage of his scheme.
II.
At the bitter cold dawn of February 11th, the USS AEGIR left San Diego and headed northwest at cruising speed. Its departure had not been announced to avoid newsmen and the curious. The AEGIR was still a novelty that the public wanted to know more about, the most advanced nuclear submarine in the world and one dedicated to scientific research rather than for military uses. Five hundred and twenty-six feet long with a beam of forty-three feet, shaped like a torpedo except for a distinctive manta-shaped prow, the AEGIR had been the subject of many articles and even a special feature on 60 MINUTES.
At the prow were three curved windows of plexiglass six inches thick to resist the water pressure of the deep. Every inch of the walls was covered with electronic equipment.. dials, gauges, screens, rows of buttons and switches, color-coded cables. Standing at the command station in his khaki uniform with tie and radiation badge, Admiral Quincy W McCormack stood with folded arms and no one bothered him as long as he seemed lost in thought. A genius leading a hand-picked team of engineers and physicists, McCormack had spent eight years designing and building the AEGIR. Its first four missions had all been pure research, then it had been sent to rescue the crew of a sunken ship before their air ran out and after that the AEGIR was front page news all over the world.
At sixty, McCormack was getting stocky. He had crisp greying hair and a neat mustache beneath an admittedly bulbous nose, with bushy eyebrows. Suddenly he cleared his throat and turned to face the young man standing just to his right. Tall and fit, Captain Donald Amberson had dark movie-star good looks but his record in the US Navy was impeccable and he was the most suitable candidate possible to command AEGIR. The research sub was privately owned by McCormack's Mentor Foundation, but worked with the Department of Defense for funding and logistics. Reluctantly, McCormack had included forward torpedoes and two ballistic missles in the design, but the AEGIR was not meant to be a weapon of war.
Standing behind the two officers were two men who were not part of the crew nor resident scientists. Jeremy Bane stood with folded arms, soberly watching through the front windows as the sub sped through the ocean at 40 knots while submerged to 90 feet. Bane was wearing the black field suit with its heavy boots, pants, and waist-length jacket. In the crook of his arm, he held a visored helmet. Although the men of the AEGIR did not know it, that field suit could seal water-tight. With an oxygen tank attached to the helmet, it would serve as a diving suit. The Dire Wolf had done so before, and he wore the suit now ready for use. Next to him, Stephen Weaver was also staring out at the depths.
McCormack twisted his head around to regard his guests. "You haven't said much, Mr Bane."
"No. I'm watching and hopefully learning," answered the Dire Wolf. "This sub is an impressive piece of work, Admiral. But if I'm right, we're heading to face an enemy more powerful and more unpredictable than any hostile nation."
"I'm still not sure what organization you represent," interrupted Captain Amberson. He had been watching Bane and Weaver with unconcealed suspicion since they had boarded the sub. Amberson had experienced some clashes with Soviet spies a few years earlier and had never gotten over it.
"I'm from the Kenneth Dred Foundation," Bane answered coolly. "KDF. We are a research group investigating paranormal claims. You've seen my clearance. The FBI vouches for me and for my partner here."
"Not just the FBI, but their Department 21 Black. They're an interesting bunch." Amberson turned to look at Weaver. "And you, sir. In addition to the FBI voucher, you have backing from the Air Force."
Stephen Weaver smiled easily. He was a young black man with very dark skin and a thick mustache. Like Bane, he was just over six feet tall and slim to the point of being almost gaunt. On board the sub, he had changed into dress slacks and tan polo shirt. "That's right. Combat helicopter pilot and field repair specialist, Lt Stephen Weaver of the United States Air Force. Discharged with honors and still serving on call as needed."
"But that's not all, is it? I heard something about a secret project, the Black Angel."
"I couldn't comment on anything secret, could I? You're a Commander in the Navy yourself, even though you're addressed as 'captain' because you're running this sub. You understand discretion," Weaver told him evenly.
Amberson grinned unexpectedly. "You handled that well, Mr Weaver." He looked over his two guests. "The complete disappearance of three fishing boats off the Washington coast has naturally caused an uproar. Sightings of unexplained huge marine creatures have added to the commotion. That's what the AEGIR was designed to investigate."
"It's what we were designed to investigate as well," Bane said with no trace of humor in his voice.
III.
The main room let light in through high narrow window openings barred with metal strips. Atron Ke was seated stiffly on a throne built of stone blocks with sponges for padding, posing as if a king receiving supplicants. On top of the high pointed back of the throne was a pair of Great White jaws fastened to gape behind Atron's head. The throne room was decorated mostly with trophies of creatures that he had killed himself, ranging from a huge Moray Eel forty feet long to the skull of a Polar bear. Many were deepsea beasts not known to the surface world. An armorplated fish like a barracuda with long upper fangs, a Human-sized starfish with poisonous grippers on its arms, a scorpion the size of a horse. Much of Atron's time had been spent seeking out these monsters and challenging them.
There was also great wealth on display. In the years of his self-imposed exile, the Destroyer had plundered sunken ships and retrieved a huge amount of precious stones, gold and silver in various forms. On a carved pillar sat a pearl larger than his head, which he had taken from a giant clam personally. When he had moved among the surface people, Atron could have done so as a millionaire.
In front of the throne was a bench, but Karl Eldritch did not choose to sit down. Seven inches over six feet tall, when standing he was still at face level with Atron on the throne. He wanted to keep this level rather than appear as an inferior. Under a heavy brow ledge, the pale hazel eyes watched the Gelydra warily. Eldritch knew he was dealing with a dangerous warrior infamous for fits of berserker rage.
For his part, the Destroyer stared back with cloudy blue eyes that were always suspicious. Atron was bitter beyond words at his lot in life. "So. You still have not explained to me how you can breathe underwater, warlock?"
"I am breathing in seawater now, although I don't need to," Eldritch answered. "Only I know the secrets of the ancients, of Zhune which fell ages ago. The scientists of Zhune had discovered the ultimate secret of the universe. They could change matter into energy and energy into matter. My body is charged with primal atomic fire. It absorbs any attack done it and turns that into usable energy."
"I have never heard of such a thing before," Atron said. "You must be a formidable opponent."
"Undoubtedly. Yet I am beginning to see the wisdom of avoiding confrontation. One gets more accomplished without conflict. Is the water outside cleaner now?"
"It is beginning to clear," the Destroyer growled. His eyebrows lowered and even Eldritch felt a bit threatened. "The arrogance of the surface men! They dump the deadliest poison they know into the ocean. MY ocean! My home. I was weak and sickly for days. When the second ship arrived, I took no chances and confronted them."
Eldritch was careful to keep his voice neutral. "They would not listen, though."
"No! They thought I was a madman, some sort of stray surface dweller who had fallen overboard and managed to reach their ship. When I demanded they turn back, some of them laid hands upon me. That cannot be borne, of course, so I slew them all. I let the ship drift miles away, further out to sea, before scuttling it."
"Atron," the giant warlock said, "There will be more such ships. You have sunk three, but there will be more. Even worse, the surface men will send real warriors to confront you. These were unarmed sailors, you will facing the Marines and Navy SEALs."
"Let them come! Do you think I fear any air-breathers? I am Atron Ke, the Destroyer, exposed to the Sulla Chun at birth. I fear nothing that lives." The Gelydra leaped to his feet with a clenched fist gesturing angrily. "Indeed, I would welcome one of their warships." At his temples, two round bumps suddenly extended into fleshy horns like those of a snail. Eldritch was not startled by this. He had known Atron was one of the rare Geldyrim who possessed that trait. The horns emitted a high-pitched noise used mostly for echolocation when light was absent, but at highest intensity the sound could be a weapon that stunned and disoriented enemies. The Destroyer seemed unaware his horns were out.
"Ah, but I do not think they will send a warship. I know they have a new research submarine in California ready to sail. I think the government will ask the commander of the AEGIR to come up here and investigate the mystery. This is why I have proposed we work together."
Atron suddenly grinned. "You want that submarine for yourself, don't you? Isn't that it?"
"Exactly. With the AEGIR under my control, I can recover more artifacts of Zhune that I cannot locate now. Perhaps you will travel with me, explore the ocean. The seas are vast, Atron, there are thousands of square miles you would never see by yourself."
"Hah! I am no fool. I see you intend to use me for your purposes, Eldritch. You cannot trust a warlock. I learned that from Li Tung." Atron sat back down again and folded his hands in his lap. "And yet, so long as our interests coincide...."
"I see you understand the realities of life," Karl Eldritch told him.
IV.
Five hours crawled by. Weaver had developed a knack for napping whenever possible, so he simply found a corner, folded his arms and closed his eyes and was lost to the world. Bane however was restless and itchy at the best of times and the day was torture for him. He prowled the submarine as far as he could, getting turned back continually. He watched the crew at their posts, annoyed researchers who were busily taking notes and conferring, and finally ended up sitting in a chair quietly doing isometric exercises until his arms ached. After what seemed like days, a crewman came over and told them it was their turn for chow.
Like the rest of the AEGIR, the galley was cramped and every inch was intended to be used. Only twelve people could be seated at a time at the two tables, so the eighty-man crew and the guests had their meals scheduled. At the time allotted to them, Bane and Weaver sat in the chairs and dutifully ate a meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, peas and carrots with a Dixie cup of vanilla ice cream. Coffee was available, which Bane declined but Weaver accepted.
Sitting to their right were crew members digging in. The AEGIR was mostly staffed by Americans, but there were a number of German and Korean crew members for some reason, as well as a dozen researchers aboard for various projects. Because of their nearby presence, the two KDF members did not discuss the mission they were on, but instead chatted about trivial matters.
"See, that's why I try to always drink a big glass of water before going to bed," Weaver was saying. "Trust me, your mouth doesn't get all sticky and disgusting overnight. But you have to go pee when you wake up anyway, so what's the difference? Ah, hi there Admiral. We're just finishing up." Weaver put down his mug as McCormack approached their table.
"Good. Gentlemen, we need to talk." He watched silently as the two KDF members dumped their debris and returned the trays, plates and silverware to the proper area. McCormack led them from the galley through the narrow walkways to a door that said CONFERENCE NO ADMITTANCE. He opened it with an ID card fastened to his belt on a reel, then ushered them in. The room was small and held little more than a table with six chairs around it. Everything aboard the AEGIR was in subdued pastel shades to be less stressful for the crew on long voyages, and this room was painted in light green and olive. "Please be seated." As he pulled out the chair for himself, Admiral McCormack began with, "I know about Atron."
"I'm a little surprised," Bane responded. "I wouldn't think many Humans had heard about him."
"Oh, sailors hear a great many tales that they take more seriously than land people do," said McCormack. "For more than thirty years, there have been encounters with a blond savage who lives underwater, who sometimes rescues shipwrecked men but who also can be a brutal murderer with little provocation. Atron Ke, the Destroyer. My father told me about meeting him. I believe I myself once spotted Atron fifteen years ago in a storm, when I saw a man in the water staring at me. When I began to cry 'Man overboard' to rescue him, he swam away from the ship faster than a marlin."
"Sounds like Atron. I can tell you that he is not truly Human. He is a Gelydra, one of a cousin Race who live in a sunken realm called Ulgor which cannot normally be reached by people." Bane paused to see the reaction. "Atron has been exiled from his country because of his violent rages. He is much stronger than a Human and very difficult to harm. I've fought him a few times, and each time was an ordeal to be honest."
"And you think he has something to do with the three fishing boats which are missing?"
"I think there's a good chance," Bane said. "Atron was last seen up by British Columbia a year ago. Cold doesn't bother him, his people have outposts near the Arctic Circle. He might still be in the area. For some reason, he sticks close to large landmasses most of the time."
Steven Weaver had been silent so far, watching McCormack with thoughtful eyes. "Admiral, I know you have been cleared for Top Secret because of the nature of your work. The AEGIR is considered a top priority by the Defense Department because of innovations they hope to copy onto their own nuclear subs. Do you know the real story about those fishing boats?"
"I'm not sure I follow you," McCormack answered cautiously.
"Admiral. You're dealing with the KDF. We have a way to learning what is meant to be kept secret forver." Weaver leaned forward, and despite being in a closed room, lowered his voice. "We know those boats were actually dumping toxic waste from Project Regulus."
McCormack gave a start, staring at the young black man in horror, then turning to Bane with fearful eyes.
"Oh yes," said the Dire Wolf. "There's no use beating around the bush with us. Intelligence agencies are forced to deal with the KDF because we can't be kept in the dark. We're not part of the usual games of deception and betrayal that agencies like INTERCEPT and the Mandate play. Project Regulus! That's playing with genetic gunpowder. And dumping the byproducts in the ocean seemed like a good idea to them. Except they happened to unload it right where Atron has set himself up."
Admiral McCormack sputtered and half rose. "I'll call security. The guards will throw you two into solitary confinement."
"They could try," Bane said coldly. "Calm down, Admiral. We're here to help. Steve and I have a plan to take Atron prisoner if he is there. Before he can wreck this submarine as well."
"Wreck... the AEGIR?" yelled McCormack. "One man? One man against the most advanced vessel in the world today?"
"You don't know Atron," Bane said calmly.
The intercom by the door buzzed loudly three times and McCormack shot to his feet to press the button. "I'm here."
"Admiral," said a voice, "sonar is picking up something big coming our way. Captain Amberson wants you on the bridge."
"Another sub?"
"Techs don't think so. It's big and fast."
"I'm on my way." McCormack broke off to find Bane and Weaver standing beside him. "I suppose it's best you come come along, then." The three of them hurried down the cramped walkways, turning sideways to let crew members squeeze past, until they reached the bridge. Here a half dozen men sat at their stations, monitoring equipment and taking readings. A six-foot high video screen showed what cameras in the prow were seeing, so far nothing but cold dark water with occasional fish swimming close. Then something dark, bigger than a Greyhound bus and approaching quickly, loomed up in the distance. Alarms sounded and red lights flashed on the bridge.
V.
Atron had learned as a child the Ulgoran techniques for taming great near-mindless creatures of the deep. Most feared of these was the War Squid. He had to dive deep at first to roust one, using the sonic pulses from his horns to steer the monster the way he wanted it to go. Over time, he found that the beasts had started to stay closer to the surface, almost as if they enjoyed being under his control. It was strange but he had not given it much thought, nor did he have any definite plans for using the creature. Taming a few War Squids was just a way to occupy his time and they might be convenient at some point. Now that opportunity had presented itself.
Its sixty-foot long cylindrical body was black and shiny, and its tentacles whipped about furiously as it swam directly toward the oncoming AEGIR. Strapped to a sharkhide saddle behind the staring eyes sat Atron with a viciously-pointed prod, goading the great beast on. The submarine had started to slide down and to its starboard in obvious hopes of avoiding collision. Atron let the vessel pass beneath him and spurred the War Squid to seize the rear guidance vanes with its tentacles. The sub kept moving but was diverted and turned over on its side, then steered to start rising to the surface. The Squid hung on with immeasurable strength, forcing the AEGIR to rise despite itself.
The struggle took place with glacial slowness. The sub's nuclear reactor and pulse jets gave it enough propulsion that it should have been able to break loose, but the War Squid was unnaturally strong. It was a different species from the specimens of Giant Squid that surface scientists had obtained samples of. The War Squid was considerably larger and heavier, its tentacles shorter and thicker. Even the sperm whales who fed on Giant Squid left these monsters alone. Unable to control its guidance vanes, the AEGIR could not get free but it could resist being forced to the surface and it did.
Then, from the forward torpedo hatch rushed a spout of compressed air and a human form shot out with lightning speed. It was a man in a black rubber suit with red trim, wearing an oxygen tank hooked to a helmet with a crest. At his waist was a one-foot long steel cylinder with a cable connected to a thin rod the man held in his right hand. Weaver had changed into his Black Angel uniform but left the aluminum-and-nylon wings behind for underwater use. Doing a jackknife, he reversed course and whipped through the water back toward where the Squid was wrestling with the nuclear sub.
Weaver's unprecedented ability at levitation had led to the Air Force starting the Black Angel project years earlier. He could fly under his own power at speeds up to seventy miles per hour, and when underwater he managed fifty knots against the resistance. Now he sped toward the War Squid with amazing speed, as fast as Atron himself could have managed. Surprised at seeing this attacker rushing toward him, the Destroyer hesitated and did not react instantly. Then he kicked loose from the sharkhide saddle and rose up to do battle. By then it was too late.
Accelerating sharply, Black Angel closed in and extended his arm. From the metal wand, a cloud of white smoke exploded under pressure to engulf Atron entirely. The vapor clung and boiled around the Gelydra. Atron convulsed wildly, doubling up and then thrashing with his arms and legs before going limp. It was a concentrated dose of the anesthetic the KDF used in their dart guns. Weaver clipped the wand to his belt and seized the unconscious Gelydra under the arms, then swung around to zoom back toward the front of the AEGIR. Even though Atron was limp and harmless at the moment, Weaver wasn't sure how long the powerful Destroyer would remain so and he wasn't enthused at the prospect of having a grip on a reviving Atron.
Using the radio in his helmet, Weaver requested the airlock be opened. It took five minutes to get through the outer hatch into the waiting chamber, they had to wait for the water to be pumped out before the inner hatch could be opened and they could step into the interior. Atron still showed no signs of stirring. Immediately, two of the biggest crewmen on the crew seized the Gelydra and secured him with handcuffs behind his back and leg manacles that only allowed a few inches movement between the ankles. Jeremy Bane had supplied these restraints, which were considerably thicker and of a higher grade steel than normal. He directed the crewmen to haul Atron to the brig.
As Weaver unfastened his helmet and drew it up off his head, a black crewman came to assist him in getting the SCUBA tank off. "Always wanted to meet you," the crewman said with a slight Georgia accent. "But tell me the truth, what's with the 'Black' Angel stuff? If you were Chinese, would they call you Yellow Angel?"
Unzipping the heavy rubber outfit to the waist, revealing a tan T-shirt beneath, Weaver laughed. "I know, right? It annoyed me at first, but I got used to it. Once I asked to be called African-American Angel and the brass didn't know what to say." He chuckled. "Ah, they don't mean any harm."
"I suppose not. Anyway, glad you're here. We watched you on the external cameras. Amazing! I'm still shook up at the size of that squid, not to mention that nut riding it like a horse..!"
Weaver clapped the man on the shoulder. "It's a crazy world, my brother. Most people don't know a teeny bit of all the weirdness going on out there. Catch you later." Carrying the fibreglass helmet under one arm, Weaver headed past staring crew members down a walkway to where a guard stood in front of an open door marked CONFINEMENT. He entered a room with the usual pastel-colored metal walls. It held two bunks, one fastened three feet above the other, and on the lower bunk, Atron was stretched out. The Gelydra was breathing normally and did not seem to be harmed.
Standing next to Jeremy Bane were McCormack and Captain Amberson. They looked up as Weaver entered.
"Atron seems okay," Bane told his partner. "That was a heavy dose he got but we couldn't take any chances. Good work, Steve."
"Yeah, I'm not eager to duke it with that guy," Weaver admitted. "So, what about his pet out there?"
Amberson glanced up. "The squid is still trying to force us to the surface. I've given orders to cut the engines to minimum and let the AEGIR rise. We were straining our engines resisting and the guidance vanes were going to be damaged."
"It was the right decision," McCormack said. "Maybe on the surface we can dislodge that monster somehow."
Bane agreed. "And without Atron to control it, it might get bored or hungry and just go about its business. I can't predict when this guy will come to, gentlemen, but I do know him and I guarantee he's going to react violently. Better that we're not right next to him."
"All right," Amberson said. "I need to be on the bridge to see what that squid is doing and get any damage reports. Keep me posted."
"Very well," Admiral McCormack acknowledged. "I'll be joining you shortly." After Amberson left, the man who had designed the AEGIR regarded Bane and Weaver soberly. "All the tall tales that sailor spin. Now I wonder how many of them are true, after all. This man lives underwater. And he made a squid bigger than any on record seize hold of my submarine. What else is out there that I don't know about?"
"Lots," Weaver told him with a wry smile. "You're just scratching the surface of the Midnight War."
VI.
Standing in the walkway outside the brig, Weaver said, "So, Jeremy, what's your plan for Squid Vicious out there?"
"Wait, what?"
Black Angel grinned. "Squid Vicious. You know, like the singer. Sid Vicious?" Seeing a blank response, he went on, "There was a punk rocker named Sid Vicious. From the Sex Pistols. He died real young. I forget sometimes you never listen to music, Jeremy."
"Sorry if I don't get your jokes," Bane said. "Anyway, I've been thinking about how to force that monster to let go of the sub. Maybe we can go out there with a few grenades and scare it away."
"And have an enraged cephalopod with tentacles over a hundred feet long chasing us? I don't know if that's a good idea, captain. How about heating up the hull with torches until it gets uncomfortable and Squid Vicious gives up?"
The Dire Wolf nodded. "Could work. I don't think Atron is going to be too cooperative." His grey eyes narrowed as they heard a furious bellow from the brig behind them, then a loud thud. They spun and entered to find the Gelydra rolling around on the metal floor and struggling against the handcuffs. The fleshy horns were full extended and his face was red.
Stepping closer, Bane crouched and caught his eye. "Settle down there, Atron. You're not going anywhere for the moment."
"Dire Wolf! I did not expect you to be dealing with these scum. Let me free! They are poisoning the oceans!" The Destroyer rolled over and sat up. "Free me, I say."
"Calm down," Bane said. "Yes, we found out they were dumping chemical waste in the water. It was illegal. The company has stopped and will be facing a stiff fine, not that they care. But at least they won't be dumping again."
"So they say!" Atron roared, trying to get to his feet. "Can you believe them? I expected better from you, Bane! We have fought each other and we have fought alongside each other. I thought you a man of honor."
Unexpectedly, Bane knelt behind the Destroyer and unlocked the heavy duty handcuffs. "You realize I don't have to do this, don't you?" He took another key and released the ankle restraints. "Show me I'm not making a mistake."
Atron became much quieter instantly. His cloudy blue eyes widened and then he exhaled sharply and visibly relaxed. "Clever. Now I am in your debt for freeing me. You are shrewd, Dire Wolf. Very well." He rose to his feet and rubbed the raw skin on his wrists.
"You have your own code of honor," Bane admitted. "This submarine had nothing to do with that dumping of waste. The people aboard are not warriors, they are scientists and explorers. Okay?"
"I believe you. You have spoken only truth to me since we first met." Atron glanced over at Weaver. "And you, the Black Angel. Both of you risked your lives to help New Ulgor years ago when you did not have to. You are both good men." The Gelydra started to head for the door of the brig. "I will leave now."
"Whoa, what about your pet out there?" asked Weaver quickly. "You know, the big guy?"
"The War Squid? I will take him with me."
"Not so fast," Bane said as he stepped in the way. "Have you forgotten the ships you sank in the past month? Fifty-six men are missing and presumed dead, and you know damn well they ARE dead because you killed them. You're not going to just dive overboard and swim happily away."
Atron gave the Dire Wolf a quizzical look. He was one of the few who was not intimidated by the cold grey eyes because he had fought Bane a few times and seemed evenly matched. "Are you going to bring me to trial, then? What court will you use? What will you tell your judge, that one man swam up to a fishing boat and killed everyone on board and then sank the boat, with nothing more than a long knife? They will think you have lost your senses."
"No, I'm not taking you to court. We are going to hold you ourselves in the cells on Hawk Island. I intend to turn you over to your own people, to the King of Ulgor, and request he keep you imprisoned." Bane did not flinch before the growing rage in the Destroyer's face. "Those men did dump illegal toxic waste, Atron, but they didn't deserve to be slaughtered like that. I'm taking you prisoner."
The Gelydra's voice got very low and soft. "You think so."
The tension of the moment was broken as Admiral McCormack came rushing up in distress. "Quick, hurry. You have to see this. It's insane. Hurry." He grabbed Bane by the arm, yanking him as he ran back along the walkway. The Dire Wolf went along in puzzlement, giving Atron a stern glare as he was hauled away.
Left alone with the Gelydra, Stephen Weaver shrugged. "We might as well see what's going on. We can always fight later."
Atron snarled deep in his chest but agreed. The two of them hustled to catch up to McCormack and Bane. Captain Amberson was already waiting. Everyone stopped at a metal ladder that led up to a circular hatch in the ceiling. The hatch had been opened, and they climbed up it into a cylindrical compartment that opened to reveal they were outside by the conning tower. It was freezing. February winds splashed salt spray in their faces. All five of them had enough room to stand on a round platform surrounded by an open railing. The bronze hull of the AEGIR stretched out in front of them. The conning tower, topped by various antennae and sensor apparatus was behind them. Immediately, their eyes locked in horrified fascination as the gigantic War Squid still clinging to the guidance vanes of the sub with an unbreakable grip.
The huge eyes of the monster focussed on Atron, as if recognizing him. The Destroyer smiled grimly at that.
A deep booming voice came up at them the surface of the sea. A small yacht, not particularly luxurious but well equipped, bobbed up and down almost within arm's length of the sub. Standing behind the wheel was a big man in a black rubber diving suit. As soon as he saw that hulk with the shaven head and the deepset hazel eyes, Bane suddenly understood.
"Eldritch again," he muttered as if to himself. Then his temper broke and he shouted down with raised fists, "Why won't you just stay dead? I keep killing you and you keep coming back! You're getting on my nerves, Eldritch."
A deep chuckle came from the warlock. "Ah, always a joy when old friends meet. Never fear, Dire Wolf, after today our paths will not cross again. Oh, and the Negro who flies, Black Angel isn't it? Nice to see you again as well."
Next to the conning tower, McCormack seemed to finally grasp the situation. "What the devil...? Who IS this lunatic? What does he want?"
Standing next to the admiral and the captain, Bane said quietly, "The most dangerous sorcerer in the world today. Let me do the talking." Raising his voice again, he shouted, "Fine, give us your speech, Eldritch. We'll listen."
"Hah! Listen well." The big man's voice carried with unnatural clarity. "I claim this submarine effective immediately. The crew and commanders will be allowed to remain and carry on their duties under my direction. I have no use for the researchers and journalists aboard, they must be thrown overboard-"
"Are you insane? In this weather? They'll be dead within minutes!" the Admiral yelled.
"Very well, you are expendable too." Eldritch raised a broad hand and searingly bright atomic fire crackled from it to explode against the man like a lightning bolt. A few parts of the Admiral were sent flying. A hand, a leg, part of the head, were all flung away into the water, but genius inventor Quincy W McCormack was gone forever.
Where he had stood, Captain Amberson sagged at the knees and almost had a heart attack. His eyes still saw the bright after-images of that flash of primal energy. Catching his breath seemed a struggle, as he grasped the railing and tried to keep his sanity.
"You seem to be in charge now!" Eldritch shouted to Amberson from his yacht. "Cooperate and live. If I wished, I could disintegrate this vessel and every living soul aboard it."
Amberson turned wild eyes at Bane, who nodded. "He could do it," said Bane. "We can't fight him directly. I've always had to use tricks."
"Atron! Hear me. I thank you for your help. You shall have a place of honor on the AEGIR as we explore the depths and terrorize the shipping of every nation. Now, bring the civilians out so we can dispose of them and get underway." The giant warlock gloated openly, delighting in the shocked expressions he was causing.
"Is this the kind of warrior code you follow?" Bane demanded harshly of Atron. "You talk of honor, is it just talk?"
Now Atron spoke for the first time. His gaze swept from the immense bulk of the War Squid still grasping firmly on the guidance vanes over to the yacht where Karl Eldritch stood. "I do not approve of this," he announced coldly. "I will not kill women and old men who have done me no harm."
"I thought you were harder than that!" shouted Eldritch. "Are you not the dreaded Destroyer?"
"Our partnership is ended," Atron yelled as he suddenly leaped straight up ten feet in the air and came down in a steep dive into the water on the side of the sub away from the warlock. Watching, Bane had a curious expression of hope on his face. Just maybe...
A minute later, the War Squid stirred, its tentacles wiggled and their grip slackened. The enormous body of the beast slid away from the AEGIR and submerged entirely. Atron was nowhere to be seen, but he had to be nearby to be directing the monster. The water boiled and surged as a gigantic mass moved just beneath the surface. Everyone held their breaths, uncertain what was about to happen. Karl Eldritch moved to the railing of his yacht, leaned over...and a tentacle as thick as his body whipped up to wrap around him and drag him beneath the surface. There wasn't even time to scream.
"Whoa!" said Weaver. "I did not see that coming."
"I was hoping for it," Bane snapped. "It all depended on how Atron reacted. Come on. Captain, we need to get below. The AEGIR needs to get away from here right now." The Dire Wolf shoved Amberson sharply into the conning tower and down the stairs to the bridge. As he followed, Weaver remained a second to match sure the hatch was secure.
"Get this tub moving fast," Bane told Amberson. "Any direction as long as it's away from here."
Seemingly in a daze, Amberson seized an intercom mike and thumbed the button that made a klaxon sound throughout the ship. "Now hear this," he announced clearly. "This is the captain speaking. The AEGIR is free. Proceed south by southeast at all possible speed, engage!" He hung up and sagged. Then the man turned shakily toward Bane. "McCormack... dead! He was blown apart just like that, right next to me! I.. I could have been killed too." His knees buckled and Bane supported him.
"Come on, come on," the Dire Wolf found a bench and dropped the captain on it. "Sit there. Let it sink in. You're going to be all right. The ship, the crew, we are all going to be fine. Say it. We're going to be fine, say it."
"We're going to be fine," Amberson repeated dully. He took a deep shuddering breath. "The poor Admiral. But we're going to be fine."
Weaver was watching the man unhappily. "I don't know about him."
"He took a jolt, that's for sure. What I'm worried about is a shock wave in the water if Eldritch blows up that monster with his atomic blasts." Bane tilted his head, holding onto a rail, as if listening. The minutes passed as they could the throbbing of the jet pumps from the stern. Finally, the Dire Wolf relaxed just a bit. "I guess it's okay."
"You think Eldritch is finally dead?" Weaver asked him.
"I wish!" Bane snorted. "How many times have we been sure he was destroyed and he just turned up again as if nothing had happened? No, I think we'll always have to be ready for his return. Maybe the best we can hope for is to get rid of him for a while until his body can reconstitute itself." Bane placed a hand on the shivering back of Captain Amberson. "Let's get this guy to sick bay, he's going into shock if I'm any judge."
Helping the captain up, Weaver said, "You know what I think? Or rather, what I hope? That Squid Vicious bit Eldritch's head off. He still can't die, but now his headless body is crawling around on the ocean floor, groping for the head to put it back again."
Bane gave one of his very rare laughs. "Hah! I like the way your mind works, Steve. Let's hope he has a long long search ahead."
11/24/2014
