"Give In To the Group Mind"

[dochermes]

"Give in To the Group Mind"

5/8-5/11/1982

- MAN FOUND DEAD IN FIRE; HIS IDENTITY IS UNKNOWN

May 7 - Kingston police late Monday night are seeking the
identity of a man found dead the night before in what was
thought to be a vacant and abandoned house. Firemen found
the body in the attic of 44 North Front Street when they
entered to fight the blaze shortly after 9:30 PM. The man
was pronounced dead on arrival at Benedictine Hospital at
10:15 PM. Cause of death is being withheld pending an autopsy. -


Jeremy Bane read the clipping through more slowly, with a suspicious attitude. He turned his cold grey eyes up at the man who had handed it to him. "Okay, I'm probably missing something but I don't see how this is KDF business. Where's the supernatural angle?"



Standing next to the conference table, Michael Hawk smiled and took the clipping back. He was in his early sixties and looked it, with a wide weathered face and deepset eyes with bags under them. The brown hair was liberally flecked with white now, and the drooping mustache was all grey, but the body under that white dress shirt and black pants was still hard and muscular. "See, the clue is not in the clipping, my friend. The autopsy was held this morning and since I know the chief of police, he called me about the results."

At just twenty-five, Bane had much to learn about criminology from the famous manhunter. He felt he should be picking up something but had no idea what, and it annoyed him. "Still not seeing it, Mike."

"You'd think he died of burns or smoke inhalation. Right?"

"Sure. Wait, I got it. This was a mob-style execution, it's a mob case you want us to work on. You know the KDF doesn't do standard police work."

"Nope. Jeremy, the man died of exposure. He was frozen to death."

The Dire Wolf sat up straighter at the conference table and a new gleam came in his eyes. "Oh, now I'm interested. It's May. How does a man freeze to death in New York in May. Inside a building, no less?"

"That, captain, is why the Chief Wengert called me and wondered if I would be interested. I got this from our clipping service. The KDF - and you in particular- are getting quite a reputation for handling inexplicable crimes." Hawk picked up his tan jacket from the back of a chair and shrugged into it. No matter what he wore, he looked like an aging cowboy.



Bane unfolded the clipping and regarded it. "Are you going up to have a look at the body yourself?"



"Me? No. I have a court appearance tomorrow and Donna has accepted an extortion case I need to start as soon as I'm free. I figured you might want this. It does sound.. well, weird." He turned for the door. "I asked them to hold the body for you, but they still haven't had a positive ID yet."



Standing up, the Dire Wolf tried to hide his enthusiasm. He lived for trouble, high stress situations seemed to make him come alive. "I'll take one or two of our team with me. Garrison Nebel lives in that area. Maybe he can offer some information."



"Maybe I can join you if I wrap up my own cases quick," Hawk said at the door. "Good hunting, amigo."



"Thanks, Mike. Keep in touch." As the manhunter left the room, Bane picked up the clipping and tacked it to the bulletin board right inside the door. This felt significant. It had the ring of the Midnight War to it. Picking up his black sport jacket, he drew it on and starting planning. As always, he was dressed all in black, boots and slacks and long-sleeved turtleneck. And as always, the twin silver daggers given to him by Kenneth Dred were sheathed beneath his sleeves. Bane was six feet tall, thin to the point of being gaunt, and his grey eyes stood out dramatically under heavy dark brows.



From a clip on his belt, he took a metal device about the size of a pack of cigarettes. Having a Trom as a KDF member meant access to advanced technology not available to Human society. He thumbed a button and spoke into it. "Khang, are you there?"



On the third floor of the headquarters building, almost directly above him, was a room so Spartan as to seem unoccupied. The neatly made bed had never been slept in, the bathroom had never been used. There was no television, no radio, no bookshelves. No pictures hung on the wall. The curtains had been drawn back to show a late afternoon view of 38th Street but what Khang saw is not known, for he did not look at the world through Human eyes.



Khang loomed enormous in that dim room, arms folded across his chest. He looked like a stylized metal statue somehow brought to animate life. Over seven feet tall, he was built out of proportion with shoulders too wide and chest too massive and legs too long to look quite right. His smooth gleaming skin looked like burnished silver, although it was not true matter at all. He had no fingernails, no navel, no genitals, no toes.



Lowered as he glared down at the city, Khang's head was a polished ovoid helmet with hair or ears or facial features other than a pair of two rectangular slots which served as eyes. These glowed from within, as if he was a hollow shell filled with white fire.



Khang stood motionless, brooding. His chest did not rise or fall, for he did not breathe. A low knock came on the door. Without lungs or mouth, Khang spoke in a deep rumble that seemed to come from all directions. "Enter!"



Cindy Brunner breezed in, shutting the door behind her. She wore sneakers, faded jeans and a white sweatshirt slightly too large for her. When she crossed over to stand beside the silver man, her head barely came to the center of his chest. "Hey! You gonna join the world today?"



"Is there some foe I must slay?" he rumbled.



"No, nothing like that. But you ought to come out and socialize a little. You spend too much time in here by yourself." Just twenty-three, Cindy had the self-assurance that came from being a pretty blonde with a good figure and good health. Her telepathy just reinforced her confidence.



"I do not eat. I do not sleep," the silver giant said, still gazing at the window. "Save when my power is needed, I can hardly be said to be alive at all."



Cindy took his arm, although he did not seem to feel it. "Come on, what's eating you? It's me, you can tell me anything!"



The gleaming head swiveled to look down, and she saw once again the restless moving lights behind those eyes. Khang hesitated, then said, "Three years ago, I appeared on the streets on New York as I am now. I was uncertain and confused, and when the aides to Kenneth Dred found me, I accidentally slew William Murdock while he was in his astral state."



"We've been over that, Khang, you're not responsible for Will's death."



"Hear me out. To make amends, I agreed to work with Dred's heir, Jeremy Bane- the Dire Wolf. Not as servant, but as ally. Since then, I have lived here and gone forth when needed against deadly menaces. But I am still as uncertain and confused as I was that first night I awoke."



"What, what?" She stepped closer. "What do you mean?"



"Some things I know! I speak English, this city is familiar to me, I know American customs," Khang said. "I know somehow that I was a mortal Man granted this inhuman body and power by the will of Great Jordyn. But how do I know that? What leads me to think that? And most troubling of all, who WAS I?"



"We always thought you knew," Cindy whispered.



"I do not! I search for memories but there are none. I have no past. What man was chosen by Jordyn to become Khang? What kind of man was I? A holy saint being rewarded? A vile criminal being punished? What does this mean?" The eyeslots blazed up. "I've got to find out, Cindy, I must know."



Hanging from a wallhook was an oversize topcoat, and in its side pocket Khang's Link chirped. The silver man reached out a long arm and drew the device out. "Yes, captain?"



"Hey, glad you're in," came Bane's voice. "I have a new mission. You want to investigate a man's death?"



"Why? What makes it our business?"



"He froze to death in a burning building. Weird enough?"



Khang nodded. "Aye, it has the Midnight War touch. Very well. I will join you."



"I'm here, too," Cindy chimed in. "Count me in."



"Great," said Bane over the Link. "Get in your kit. We'll assemble in the conference room as soon as we're ready."



The blonde telepath swatted Khang on an impervious shoulder and sprinted out the door. Her own private room was just down the hall and she burst into it with enthusiam. Stripped down to bra and panties, she tugged on the flexible Trom armor. This looked like wet silk but which provided better protection than heavy ceramic plate armor. Tan work shoes, the same jeans she had worn a minute earlier and a blue cotton shirt which buttoned down the front completed her outfit. From her closet, she drew out a waist-length black jacket which contained various tools and weapons in its concealed pockets. Around her narrow waist she buckled a holster at the small over back which held one of the anesthetic dart guns, and she clipped her own link to her belt as well.



Under a minute. Cindy washed her hands and face, gave her shoulder-length hair three quick brushes and raced from the room. She was almost giddy with excitement. She had found the real purpose for the mind-reading skills she had hidden most of her life. Hurrying down the stairs to the second floor, she burst into the conference so quickly that even Bane smiled.



Khang was already there, bundled in concealing clothing so that not a hint of his true appearance was visible. Heavy brogans, loose flannel trousers, a long coat, brown gloves, a red scarf wrapped around his face, opaque sunglasses held on by a strap and a wide-brimmed hat pulled low.. Khang was still imposing but the surreal sight he actually was. He glanced up as the telepath almost skidded to a stop.



"It's a two-hour drive to Kingston," the Dire Wolf said. "We'd be getting there around seven at night. I think we should leave the cORBY here, it's too conspicuous for city work." He slid aside a wooden panel on the wall to reveal a pale blue gem set in silver, which he started to unfasten. "So I figure an Eldar travel crystal would be best."



"Nay," rumbled Khang with a dismissive wave of the hand. "The crystals are too rare and hard to replace to risk casually. Rather, let me transport us using my own power."



"That means we would have to rely on you to get back. What if--"



"What? Nothing can harm one such as I. Come, Jeremy, cover the gem and let us be on our way."



"All right," Bane said grudgingly. He slid the panel back. Khang raised his huge arms and a flare of brilliant white force filled the room. When it faded, they were gone.



II.



She had been dreaming for weeks of the woman who looked like her. At first, Barbara was unnerved by the recurring visions in her sleep. Her parent's impending divorce, her bad grades at the community college, her string of one-date-only failed romances... she thought all these were just giving her funny neutrotic dreams. But she had soon come to enjoy the dreams as if a friend was visiting.



Now, as she turned off the light and slipped between the cool sheets, Barbara was almost eager to dream of the strange woman. Every time, she seemed clearer and more real. Every time she came closer. Barbara turned back and forth, settled in and smiled as she drifted off.



In her dream, she was walking in slow-motion through a field under early morning sunlight. She felt happy for once. Coming toward her from the other side was a woman who might be herself in a decade. At nineteen, Barbara Hoyt was five feet eight, slim and fit rather than curvy, with long legs. Her short hair was a mellow auburn color and she had large dark green eyes in a thoughtful face. She was used to having men, and women, take a second look at her. The woman striding slowly toward her looked almost exactly the same, except her hair was longer and her eyes forceful. The woman wore a short linen tunic sashed at the waist, and her arms and legs showed more definition than Barbara had.



Tonight, they almost touched. Stopping within arm's reach, the strange woman smiled and bowed low. "I am Karina," she said with a trace of the strangest accent. "It has long been fated that we should meet."



"It has? Yes. I think so." Barbara took another step closer, almost face to face. "Do I know you?"



"You have always been meant to know me," said the woman. "Barbara Hoyt, your life is not satisfying because you have been waiting for me. For your life's work. The Midnight War is calling you. Listen. I am an ancient spirit. Thirty thousand years ago, I led the nation of women-warriors named Myrrwha. I was their champion and their goddess. When wounded beyond healing or when age weakened my host, I entered a new body. I have not done so for ages, but now the time is right. We will become as one."



"You... and I? But I don't want to die. I'm young, I have a life ahead of me."



"Hear me and believe. I am a will and a purpose without proper substance, as you are substance without will and purpose. Together we will be more than the sum of our parts."



Barbara did not hesitate. "I must be going insane. I must be. But this sounds great. It feels like something I have been waiting for."



"So it is," said Karina. "Barbara, do you accept me?"



"I do! I am ready," she answered. In that dreamlike state, she held out her arms. Karina walked into them and melted into her body like a shadow returning home. There was a moment of unbearable heat and blinding light and Barbara sat up in her bed. She was out of breath, covered with sweat. She pressed a hand to her chest and tried to calm down. Turning on the light, she swung off her bed upstairs in her warring parents' house.

She jumped up, filled with a vitality she had never known before. Colors were brighter, textures sharper. Life rushed through her like hot lightning.



She had been sleepwalking all her life and now she was awake. But what were these images she was starting to see in her memories. Castles burning beneath stormy skies, women in armor striking blows with swords and axes against great apelike brutes... The images seemed so clear as if she remembered them herself.



She could not hold still. Going back to sleep was impossible. Barbara threw off her long pajama top and dug in her closet. The white jumpsuit that zipped up the front, with ribbed sleeves. She used it for running. Perfect. She yanked on socks and laced up her best sneakers. But there were no pockets. She grabbed her flat wallet with just the driver's license and a few dollars and carried it with her. Her car keys were on a leather loop that fit around her wrist.



Moving down the hall past the chilly silence of her parents' bedroom, Barbara Hoyt bounded noiselessly down the steps and out the front door. It was midnight. What had Karina said.. the Midnight War? Yes, the Midnight War was waiting. There was her red VW bug. She jumped in the seat, started it up with that unmistakable engine noise and eased out into the night. Glancing up into the rearview mirror, Barbara suffered a moment of doubt and unease that passed quickly. In the mirror, Karina was looking back at her...



III.



Not matter how much they were scrubbed with disinfectants, morgues smelled like death. In the chill white overhead light, Jeremy Bane studied the grotesque remains on the stainless steel table before him. "That's the score. Frozen solid, as if left out overnight in sub-zero weather, then given third degree burns over most of his body. If you know how it was done, let me in on it."



"An unnatural death," Khang muttered in a voice that echoed slightly. "And one which cries for retribution."



"According to the medical examiner, he's Unidentified Subject 36. White male, age late 40s, 5'8", 180 lbs. Fingerprints not on file anywhere. Not enough clothing left to offer clues." Bane folded his arms and sighed. "I wish Mike were here, he could rattle off a dozen observations."



Behind them, Cindy stepped through the thick freezer-like door. She had gone to get a white surgical mask to wear over her mouth and nose. "I spoke to the police chief and gave his mind a few subtle probes while he was checking out my rear end. He's not hiding any information. No leads on what started the fire, no persons of this description reported missing within the last seventy-two hours. They're stumped."



Khang made a growling noise. "We need no clues. It is my nature that I can follow the trail of gralic force. This man was slain by magick and I can follow its path, once having caught its scent."



"I was hoping you were going to say that," Bane said. He started to make a remark about a superhuman bloodhound but caught himself. Khang was touchy and humorless at best. The Dire Wolf led them through the door, past the desk where the medical examiner was laboring over paperwork. Thanking the man for his co-operation, Bane gave him a printed card with the KDF address and phone number, and promised to fill him in on whatever they uncovered.



"Thanks," said the man. "I shouldn't admit it but this area of the Hudson Valley has a history of strange occurences going back to colonial times. I've heard some creepy stories from people I respect."



Emerging into the parking lot on a warm night in May, Bane turned to the silver giant, still wrapped from head to foot. "Ready for the hunt?"



"We shall go on foot," Khang said. "It is not far. The use of a god-gate would draw attention." With that, he turned and stalked ponderously down the exit ramp into the small city of Kingston. Khang did not have normal human senses. His eyes were just markers to give some semblance of a face; in fact, the silver man saw in all directions at once, in darkness or in light. Within twenty minutes, the three Tel Shai knights came to a stop before a narrow doorway next to a hardware store on midtown Broadway. A rusty metal mailbox bore the name 'R. Webster.'



"Here is our quarry," the silver man said. "The unnatural emanations are strongest here."

With seeming to exert an effort, he pressed his palm against the door and it open inward as the lock snapped with brittle noise. Khang lumbered up thin-carpeted stairs and came to an unnumbered door on the landing. The silver man rapped as a normal man would, but the sound of his knuckles striking echoed like thunder.



Almost at once, the door opened and a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a prominent nose peered out at them. He was dressed almost too neatly, with every line of his dark brown suit straight and his tan tie knotted just right. He was groomed as if he had been expecting visitors. "What do you want?" he asked without anger.



The occult force centered around this man. Khang touched the flabby chest with his palm and sent the man staggering back to almost fall. He caught himself and repeated blandly, "What do you want?"



Stepping forward around Khang, Bane took over. "Just answers. The man who was frozen and burned at the same time Sunday night, for starters.."



It was standard procedure for Cindy to unobtrusively probe into a subject's mind while Bane held his attention, then to compare what they found. But now the blonde telepath seemed disturbed. She was watching Webster with a puzzled expression and her dark blue eyes were narrow with effort.



"We do not answer questions," Webster said, standing calmly between Bane and Khang with no sign of being intimidated.



Bane went on, fixing his pale eyes on the man. "We know you had something to do with that death, mister."



"We see," answered Webster. "And we are deeply sorry for this."



"Sorry?" snapped Bane just as Webster gestured and a staggering wave of pure cold flung him back. The water vapor in the air froze into a thick coating of frost over his entire body. He went numb instantly and fell to his knees, choking and gasping.



A huge gloved hand dropped down hard on Webster's shoulder. The next freezing blast from Webster's hand struck Khang squarely. The bulky overcoat stiffened hard as wood and broke apart as the silver man moved but he was not harmed. Webster struggled, drawing on strength greater than his pudgy body should contain. Misjudging this, Khang lost his grip and the man wiggled loose. Despite his numbness, Bane had forced himself up again and he reached for Webster. A second surge of arctic chill blasted the Dire Wolf and he dropped senseless. As the strange fat man moved toward the door, a clenched fist of living silver smashed into him with bone-breaking impact to fling him hard against the wall.



Khang seized the man by the jacket and lifted him off the floor with one hand. "If he dies..." grated the inhuman voice. A brief flash of white light crackled around Webster and he passed out.



Cindy was crouching over the stunned Bane, clawing the frost of him and trying to get a pulse. Her telepathic mind reached out to him, giving support and comfort, finding him still fighting to snap back. The blonde swung to stare up at Khang. "Take us to Nebel's house. NOW!" In a flash of pure white force richer than true light, they left that shabby apartment.



IV.



In that nimbus of gralic energy, the four figures appeared in a two-story wooden home on Plymouth Avenue, miles away. Here lived Garrison Nebel, the blind mystic, with whom they had worked before. "There is no living being here," Khang announced.



Cindy moved quickly, dragging Bane into the upstairs guest room where they had stayed before. She stripped off the ice-crusted clothing and wrapped him in blankets. The Dire wolf was dazed but not quite unconscious and he resisted her at first without knowing it. Finally, she slipped his mind into a deep natural sleep and his breathing grew steady. The blonde stood up and almost started to cry with relief but caught herself. The war was still on.



Khang was waiting in the living room, looming up over the stunned Webster. "I see his lifeforce is strong. He has will to live, our Dire Wolf."



"You're telling me," she said. "I have an idea how to deal with Mr Instant Freeze there. Carry his fat self into the bathroom, okay?"



She filled the old-fashioned tub with lukewarm water. The man was tied tightly with strips from Khang's ruined overcoat and lowered into the tub, with his head tied to a folded towel so he couldn't hit his head against the hard porcelain.



Without the concealing coat, Khang's metallic torso gleamed in the fluorescent light. "He may still use his power to create cold, you know."



"Sure he can," she answered. "But the power projects from his hands, which are under the surface, he'll just freeze the water in the tub and pack himself in solid ice. That ought to make him think twice."



Was there a twinge of amusement in the booming inhuman voice? "I have often suspected, Cindy Brunner, that you are the true mastermind of the Kenneth Dred Foundation."



"Heck, I've known it all along," she replied blithely. Putting the cover seat down on the toilet, she dropped down and waited for Webster to revive. The heavy man grunted, blinked and immediately came to his senses. Apparently, he understood his situation in the water-filled tub immediately. "Clever for a single mind," he said.



Cindy studied him with frowning eyes, probing for his thoughts but being unable to reach them. Webster's consciousness was atypical in a way she had never encountered before. Its surface remained hard and impenetrable to her powers.



The man turned his unemotional face up to her, with nothing in his eyes but disinterest. "It is not too late for you. Leave now and do not return, you will be spared."



"You're not in the best position to make threats," she said. After a pause, she broke off her mental probe. "Just what am I dealing with here?"



"A single mind can not understand. You're history. Your kind no longer matters."



Khang made a low thunderous noise and raised a big flat hand as if to strike the helpless man, but Cindy touched his arm. "It's no use," she said. "His mind is structured differently. I think he will just divert any pain or fear elsewhere. We're not going to learn anything from him." The blonde touch a plastic box from an inside pocket of her jacket and removed a disposable syringe. As Webster watched blankly, she injected him in the neck with it, then wrapped the needle in a bit of toilet paper and returned it to the box for later disposal. The fat man snored.



"He'll sleep for five, maybe six hours," she said. "By that time, Jeremy will be awake and maybe Garrison Nebel will be here too." The telepath stood up and sighed. "I'm not sure what this guy really is, buddy."



"I feel it wise to wait for Nebel. He is a scholar of the Midnight War, he knows much of its lore." Khang checked that Webster was securely bound and left the bathroom, with Cindy following.



"I can feel Jeremy's mind," Cindy said. "He's sleeping and healing. Tell you what, though. Your silver skin is very pretty my friend, but we can't have you walking around in public like that. I'll go buy you a new coat, okay?"



"Have a care. There is danger here we do not understand."



"Always careful, Khang, you know that," she answered breezily and went out the front door. Remembering the area from the last time they had been here, Cindy got her bearings. She was in Forsythe Park, uptown. A brisk ten minute walk brought her to the Uptown Mall with its supermarket and Radio Shack and Pizza Palace. There was a Jamesway. She hiked down there and dug around in the men's department until she located the biggest beige topcoat they had. As long as she was at it, she picked a white sweatshirt marked 4X that would loose on a sumo wrestler. Buying both, she hauled the big package out into the pleasant spring night and trudged back up along North Front Street to make a left and go back the way she came. Stopping at a diner, she devoured a cheeseburger and hash browns, drank some iced tea and used the bathroom before heading back out.



In a few minutes, she was back on Plymouth Avenue, where all the yards were cared for, the lawns trimmed and the houses freshly painted. In front of Nebel's house, she paused. Jeremy was asleep. Khang was standing in the living room, brooding. That Webster freak was in a drugged state. It was safe to go in.



Showing Khang her purchases, she watched him discard the remnants of his coat and struggle into the sweatshirt and new topcoat, then readjust the hat and sunglasses and scarf until he was covered up again.



"That's the Khang we know," she said. "You look real mysterious. I'm going in with Jeremy. It's early but I might as well grab some sleep while I can, there's no telling when the action is going to start. Are you on guard?"



"Yes. I need no rest. Nebel has a fine library here. Rest well, Cindy."



She turned and went into the guest room, small and neat. Bane was motionless under the blankets. Cindy looked down thoughtfully at him. Three years on the tagra tea diet of Tel Shai had boosted his recuperative powers beyond what doctors could explain and he would just get more resilient as time went on. The same was true of her. Injuries which would have meant crippling pain were now just dull aches, cuts and burns went away overnight. She locked the door and undressed in the gloom from the draped window. Cindy was small and slim, with narrow hips and breasts a big large for her frame. The golden hair hung straight down her back and brushed her eyebrows with bangs. Folding her clothes on a chair, she opened one side of the bundle of heavy blankets and climbed in next to Bane's warm muscular body with contentment.



Feeling her press close, the Dire Wolf stirred. Half asleep, he rolled over to face her, mumbled something incoherent and kissed her gently. Then he was out again. She smiled and cuddled up. Time to get some sleep herself, tomorrow might be on the go. Cindy took a deep breath and let go. Sometime before dawn, she knew they would both stir and have some slow sweet sex in the dark but for now, just sleep.



V.







As soon as daylight brightened her bedroom window, Barbara Hoyt snapped instantly awake as she never had before- alert, alive, filled with energy. But she knew at once something was wrong. She was fully dressed in her white jumpsuit, even her sneakers were on, and she had been lying on top of the blankets. Well, that was odd. Her hands stung and she looked down to see the knuckles were swollen and bruised. Now she was worried. Barbara slid out of bed and went to the mirror over her dresser and became really concerned. What was that that long scratch down her cheek? Was she getting... a black eye?



Falling back to sit on her bed, the teenager fought to straighten out her thoughts. Where had she gone last night? The last she remembered was jumping in her VW and heading on the road. Had she been drugged... raped? No, she dismissed that. She was clear and alert this morning. Her clothing was intact, she was not sore down there. But it sure seemed as if she had been in a fight. At the thought, the memories rushed back. Oh God. She had gone to the Blue Gardenia down town and walked into the worst bar in town with a chip on her shoulder. Someone had tried to hug her, and after that it was a blur of punches and kicks and throws. She had walked back out to her car alone and gone home.



The dream about Karina...it wasn't a dream.



Suddenly she felt suffocated by this house. She would not need much. Getting her suitcase from under the bed, she threw in socks and underwear, a pair of jeans, three shirts. All the pretty shoes and handbags looked useless now. A hairbrush, a toothbrush, some nail clippers. What more was needful? Barbara grabbed her checkbook with the VISA card Dad had given her for emergencies and which she seldom used. Nothing else in this room had any signicance for her today. The framed photographs, the souvenirs, the little knick-knacks meant nothing.



Grabbing the suitcase, she trotted down the stairs. It would be best to leave a note for Barbara's parents. That stopped her. BARBARA's parents? Why had she thought that? They were her parents, weren't they? She paused long enough to write in firm handwriting that she was fine and in no trouble and would be back soon, they shouldn't worry. When she signed her name, it looked alien to her.


Stepping outside into a sunny warm morning, she threw her suitcase in the back of her VW bug. Something was pulling her north, not far away. Her instincts were stronger now. Putting on oversized sunglasses from the glove compartment, she gunned the motor and grinned wickedly with anticipation of battle. Karina drove away from Barbara Hoyt's house.



VI.

Before eight the next morning, bacon and coffee announced their presence in the house. Bane stirred and sat up completely alert. A normal person might be hospitalized with pneumonia and frostbite, but his tagra-reinforced body shrugged the effects of those freezing attacks with a few hours sleep. The Dire Wolf saw Cindy sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging on her work shoes.

She grinned at him over one shoulder. "That bed will always have memories of us now, hon."

Bane seemed deadpan to those who did not know him, but his responses were just restrained. The barely visible smile on his narrow face was clear to her. "This is Nebel's house, right? You brought me here after that guy blasted me?"

"Yep. Smells to me like Garrison is out there preparing breakfast for his guests. Webster, the freezing freak, should still be tied up in the bathroom. I left Khang in charge while we snoozed." She went out the door. "I'm starving."

The Dire Wolf eased out of bed. At first, he seemed almost too thin for best health, but the long hard muscles on his body contradicted that. Quickly, he slipped into the flexible Trom armor, then the rest of his outfit. Cindy had known to leave the twin silver daggers strapped to his forearms overnight; he was so used to them that he would not have rested without feeling their presence. As he tugged down the black turtleneck and grabbed for his sport jacket, Bane's mind reviewed what he knew of the situation. More questions than answers. He stepped out into the hall and used the bathroom before heading down to where the kitchen was. Audible rumbling came from his stomach.

In the bright morning sunlight through a picture window, he found Cindy already seated at a round table and plowing into a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. She winked at him. Standing to one side, head grazing the ceiling, Khang remained bundled so nothing showed but his head swiveled to greet him.

"Good morning," said Garrison Nebel cheerfully near the stove. He was older than Bane, in his mid-thirties, tall and lanky, with a long face and light brown hair. Nebel wore glasses with opaque lenses to spare others the sight of his blind eyes, even with guests like these whom he knew well. He had two cast iron frying pans going, and he gestured for Bane to take a seat.

Pulling out a chair next to Cindy, the Dire Wolf said, "Sorry to intrude on you last night, Gary. It was an emergency."

"Khang explained it all. You folks are welcome here any time, after the way you helped me deal with my.. loss last year." He stepped over and shoveled bacon and eggs on the plate in front of Bane. "Dig in. There's plenty. Orange juice and milk in the refrigerator there."

"You move with such assurance," Bane said between mouthfuls. "Someone who didn't know you..."

"Wouldn't think I was blind? Yes. My gralic perception has developed enormously." He went back to the stove and filled his own plate. "It's not as good as eyesight, of course. I can't see colors, I can't read words on paper. Yet. But I can perceive what sighted people cannot. Maybe it's a gift in disguise."

As Nebel sat and poured himself a tumbler of juice without any apparent difficulty, Bane found it hard to remember that the man was in fact blind, that his eyes had been permanently damaged by the Group Mind a year earlier. The Dire Wolf finished his plate. The enhancement which gave him his superior speed also made him burn calories furiously.
"The last we heard, you were still looking for the Group Mind."

"Yes," Nebel said. He ate slowly and thoughtfully. "They are definitely in this area, hiding, growing in numbers. If I knew where to find them, I would have called you and your team to come in and strike them. Khang, you were not present last year when we clashed with this threat."

"No," said the silver man.

"It's a strange phenomenon. I have found a few references to earlier unions like this over the ages. There was one in England two decades ago. The Group Mind is, how do I put it, a collective consciousness. Members lose their individual awareness to join as a new being with great mental powers. The separate bodies communicate telepathically with each other. When they are present in more than three, they can exert mental duress on normal Humans. They can brainwash and control anyone without a strong will."

"Creepy," muttered Cindy. "That's why I couldn't read Webster's mind last night?"

Nebel nodded. "You were trying to break the defenses of more than twenty minds united as one. The original Ralph Webster of Shokan isn't there anymore. His body is a unit of the Group Mind."

"What a nightmare," she said. "Like a colony of ants?"

"Pretty much. Like any organism, the Group Mind wants to grow. They don't have a leader, but sometimes one of them serves as a spokesman. This is called Prime, chosen I guess because he's tall and distinguished and normal Humans will defer to him. Prime told me that eventually the entire Human race will be absorbed into the Group Mind. He promised an end to war and crime and unhappiness. I said, also an end to love and free will and creativity, and he didn't argue the point."

They were all finished with breakfast. Cindy jumped up and started collecting the plates and silverware. "No, no, I'll do them," she said. "I want to." She headed for the sink.

Bane said, "What about that freezing power Webster demonstrated?"

"Still another effect of the Group Mind. I think you know that many Humans are variants. They possess the potential to develop gralic abilities if given the right stimulus. I believe your own extra speed is such a development, maybe from something in your childhood."

"Maybe. What about that Webster man?"

"The Group Mind strives to develop gralic powers in its members. I've seen two or three in action. One could levitate enough to reach the top of a house. Webster evidently possessed the potential for cryonic blasts." Nebel leaned forward. "They're a growing threat, Jeremy."

The Dire Wolf turned his pale eyes on the mystic. "We'll see what we can do about that."
They went to the first floor bathroom to check on Webster. Khang had been keeping an eye on the prisoner during the night. The pudgy man seemed to have gone into a trance of some kind, breathing only a few times a minute. Bane took a pulse and thumbed up an eyelid.

"He's alive, but just barely." The Dire Wolf straightened up. "What's going on, Gary?"

"The Group Mind is withdrawing from him. He is of no use to them like this."

Bane studied the comatose man. "He's going to be a problem. We can't roust him and let him go, and we can't turn him over to the police.." As he spoke, Webster shuddered and gasped, then went limp. Bane checked him again. "Dead, all right. Convenient, I guess."

Garrison Nebel turned to the silver giant filling the doorway behind them. "I would have trouble explaining a corpse in my bathtub, Khang. Would you relocate him?"

"Gladly," rumbled Khang. "I shall gate him out miles up deep into the Catskills. If his remains are ever found, his death will remain a mystery."

Leaving the silver man with that body in the tub, Bane went with Nebel back to the kitchen. Cindy was wiping her hands with a dish towel. "You know, I felt his life snuff out in there. The Group Mind is a bit ruthless about its own members, isn't it?"

"Yes. As far as I know, only Gitano and I ever broke away from the collective and survived. They have left me alone for some reason, and he has gone into hiding."

"Gitano?" Bane repeated. "I don't think you've mentioned anyone by that name."

Nebel turned away. "You remember me saying I entered the Group Mind as an experiment. I was vain enough to think I could join and then leave whenever I chose. Feh. Prime blinded me to bring out the gralic perception they sensed in me. But it backfired, because the perception freed me and I left the collective. Gitano was a different story. His real name was Adrian Harmon. A drifter, a musician, sort of solitary gypsy. The power which came out in him centered in his hands. But the Group Mind was responsible for the death of his girlfriend. She was going to the authorities about them."

After a second, Bane prompted, "What happened to this Gitano?"

"Seeing his girlfriend murdered right in front of him made him break loose. He killed a few of the members and got away. They gave him the brain blast and deadened his memories, all he retained was a hatred for anyone with unusual abilities. He has fought a warlock or two this last year. He destroyed the Amethyst Slug and the Blonde Widow, there are untold stories there. But mostly he has kept out of sight."

"I see. I think we need to meet this Gitano. You know where he is?"

Nebel took off the tinted glasses and wiped them irrelevantly. "He's in Woodstock. He's helping to run a used record album store. But he's forgotten about the Midnight War and I have not bothered him. He seems to be happy." The mystic turned his opaque eyes up at the Dire Wolf. "We are both refugees."

"He may be able to lead us to this Group Mind," Bane said. "We came up here because that man Webster killed someone and was going to go unpunished. The Group Mind can't be allowed to grow and grow. It needs to be stopped while we still can stop it. I'm sorry, Gary, we're going to go see this Gitano right now."

VII.

The mattress lay unceremoniously on the floor, next to a tiny black & white TV with rabbit ears and a pile of old magazines. Adrian was stretched out on it under a sheet, deep in slumber. Janie Koeppen decided to let him be. He gotten up after those nightmares again, gone outside to walk and only come back to her at dawn. Standing in the doorway of the tiny bathroom, she brushed her hair and watched him sleep. She never tired of looking at his hands, they were so mismatched. The slim long-fingered left hand of a pianist and the wide stub-fingered paw of a boxer. How odd. Adrian never explained them, nor his past, which was fine with her. She had her own history she would rather let fade.

She stepped out of her apartment, if it could be called that, into the store. VINYL HEAVEN made enough money to pay the bills. There were collectors who wanted LPs and thought nothing else would do. There were even people who just bought the covers. Janie took a deep breath, opened the front door and left it open to let in fresh air. It looked like a nice day out there. She crossed over to the cash register and had started sorting receipts from their pile under the counter when the woman in white rushed in.

The intruder was a tall girl, still a teenager, with a shag of lovely auburn hair. She was wearing a one-piece white jumpsuit and her figure was so sleek and trim that Janie felt dumpy in comparison. The girl's large green eyes had a sly, mocking expression in them.
she walked up to Janie in a smooth flow and demanded, "Who else is here?"

"Well, good morning to you, too!" Janie snapped. "Is that how we say hello?"

Karina stepped closer. "It is how I say hello. Someone sleeps in that back room. I'm going to see if it's the one I hunt."

"What? No, hold on a minute." Janie stretched her hand out to intercept and the strange woman caught it in a wristlock that was agonizingly strong. "Oww. Let me go!" Janie yelped. "You're hurting me."

"Yes," came a cold voice from the doorway. "Let her go."

Karina released the woman's wrist, swung around around and plunged at the man in the doorway, all in one motion. Jeremy Bane met her headlong with a high side kick that caught her in the chest and threw her back. Not hurt in the slightest, Karina came BACK faster than before and the two of them traded a flurry of a dozen punches and blocks within a few seconds. Their fists and arms meeting sounded like whiplashes cracking. As Janie watched in fascination, the woman in white and the man in black circled each other and then clashed again.

Both were amazingly fast and agile, both skilled at the higher levels. Neither seemed able to really connect solidly against the other. They moved still more quickly, throwing blows that almost whistled, blocking and evading as if they had choreographed the fight and rehearsed it endlessly. Both had started with sublime confidence. As the first minute went by, and neither could gain an advantage, each began to feel a disbelieving awe. They had not even bumped into any of the displays in the store, so perfect was their control. Both Bane and Karina felt the first stirring of doubt as to how this duel would end.

A strange predatory gleam came into Bane's grey eyes. He was beginning to enjoy this. Abruptly, his opponent lost her focus. For one split-second, she hesitated and her defense dropped a few inches. The Dire Wolf blurred in and caught her perfectly on the side of the chin with a lightning backfist. Karina swayed, her arms lowered, and he drove the edge of his stiffened hand to the base of her neck with a noise sharp as wood breaking. The redhaired woman fell face down and he stepped back. He was breathing just a bit faster than usual.

"Sorry," said Cindy's voice behind him. He turned to see her standing in the doorway with arms folded and a smirk on her face. "I know you were enjoying it but you two looked like you were going to be dancing for hours."

"So you dazed her?" Bane asked unhappily.

"Just a wee bit of telepathy," answered Cindy. She stepped into the store and caught Janie's terrified gaze. "It's all right. Everything's okay now, we're investigators. That woman is not going to hurt you."

The Dire Wolf took out his leather billfold and showed Janie his P.I. license. That seemed to calm the woman. Cindy watched without interfering; she could have given Janie a slight sedating effect but she didn't do that without good cause.

"That woman there- she's crazy. She just barged in here and started trouble!" Janie said. "Do you know who she is?"

Bane did not answer. He suspected at the moment that Karina was connected to the Group Mind but he couldn't explain things like that to the public. "She's coming into custody with us," he said ambiguously.

Cindy Brunner was looking around and her gaze went to the door at the back of the store. She had picked up the mind of a sleeping person. "Jeremy. Gitano's in there."

"Gitano? I don't even KNOW anyone named Gitano. How about telling me what's going on? Please, just some explanation."

"You may know him as Adrian Harmon," Bane said. "He's not in trouble. We need him to help us locate some dangerous people-"

"Those dangerous people have found you," came a new voice from the doorway. Two big men in dark suits, with neat ties and polished shoes, had appeared there. Even as Bane whirled and his dart gun appeared in his hand, even as Cindy thrust out with her telepathy, the room was flooded with a flare of lurid red energy. It hit them like a blast of boiling water, knocking them senseless to the wood floor. Bane fell on top of the dazed Karina, and Cindy sprawled within reach of him. Janie was untouched.

The two men picked up Cindy and carried her out the front door where a white U-Haul van was idling. Moving quickly, they went back for Karina and then for Bane. The strangers threw all three into the back of the van with no gentleness, slammed the back door shut and climbed in the front. In less than a minute, the van pulled out and sped up Tinker Street.

At no time did they even glance at Janie Koeppen, who was shaking so badly she couldn't walk. Her eyes were wet as if she were about to cry over what she had seen in the past few minutes. Slowly, trying to catch her breath, she moved unsteadily to the back of the store and opened the door. Adrian Harmon, Gitano, still slept.

VIII.

At Nebel's house, the blind mystic leaned back in an easy chair and listened to the morning news on the television. The local station carried a brief mention of the body that had been found a few days earlier in a burning building but with no new details. Nebel sensed the silver giant towering behind him, motionless, not breathing.

"You didn't go with Jeremy and Cindy to Woodstock?" he asked.

"I did not. Let them rent a car and drive there, if they will. I have my own means. There is much you still have not told us, Garrison Nebel." Khang strode around to loom up in front of the mystic.

"Nothing important. Maybe you can sense somehow how I was betrayed by one I loved? How Michelle turned me over to the Group Mind, from spite, wanting me to be punished for winding down our relationship!" For the first time, genuine emotion rang in the calm tone of voice.

"You are troubled," Khang said. "I know the pain of betrayal."

"More than that. I was deceived. I was lied to by the one person I thought I could trust with my life." Nebel rose to his feet and went to the window. "Maybe you can sense it. I don't know if your perception is much different than mine. But after I escaped the Group Mind, I swore I would never be fooled again. I have dedicated my life to finding the truth and facing it."

Nothing of Khang could be seen beneath the enveloping clothing. The scarf, the goggles, the slouch hat... he was concealed entirely. It was only his posture that showed concern. "You have found purpose, Garrison. And more... I sense you are looking for an object to help you. A talisman."

"Imthril. The Eyeless Helmet of the Eldarin." Nebel made a disgusted noise. "But finding it and claiming it may not be within Human ability. Ah, enough of that. I am not the reason why you came up here from the city. Did you dispose of Webster?"

"Yes. His body lies hundreds of miles deep in the Catskills. It may never be found. At least you will not have to explain its presence to the police." The silver giant went over to peer down at Nebel. "You have a strange destiny before you, Garrison. I can feel it. But for now, I have my own agenda to pursue."

"Take me with you. I want to help in the fight against the Group Mind."

"Not yet. You have no fighting skill. Your occult perception will be useful in its time, but I am heading to war now... and there you may not go." The giant being tried to make its voice gentle. "We will meet again and work together. But now, I must go." He raised a gloved hand, the white light detonated noiselessly and when it faded, Nebel was left alone in that house.

The same burst of gralic force flared up in the bedroom behind the VINYL HEAVEN store, brighter than sunrise. Janie Koeppen gave a start and fell down against a dresser at the unexpected jolt. Standing beside her, tucking a light blue work shirt into faded jeans, stood Gitano. He was not a big man, well under six feet tall and slim. His black hair covered his ears and the back of his collar, and his short curly beard was trimmed. Dark deepset eyes did not blink as Khang appeared.

"There is no true evil in you," came the hollow voice of the silver man. "You are not the enemy I seek.. yet I can tell you have some gralic force of your own."

"You might say that," Gitano answered.

"Are you trying to give me a HEART ATTACK!" screamed Janie. "What did you do, set off a bomb in here?"

Gitano moved over and put both arms around her. "You're safe, Janie. This man is not here to hurt us." He glanced up at the shrouded figure. "Are you?"

"No. I am here to help. I am called Khang, a servant of light and a defender of humankind. You should come with me, Gitano, to combat a dire menace you know well."

"The Group Mind...." sighed the wanderer. "I suppose I knew I did not have forever. Listen, Khang. This girl tells me that not one hour ago there was a fight in this store. A man in black and a woman in white fought like tigers. With them was a smaller blonde woman. Then strange men set off some sort of blast which stunned everyone and they took the three intruders away."

Khang lowered his head. "That would be my captain, Jeremy Bane, and Cindy. Although I do not know who the woman in white might be, all three are now prisoners of the Group Mind. Are you ready to come with me?"

There was no answer for a long moment. The wanderer bent and picked up a worn denim jacket that had a yin-yang symbol on its pocket, shrugging it on. "There is no choice to be made," he said sullenly. "I forgot who I am and what I am. But I am not lucky enough to forget forever."

"Adrian? What are you talking about?" the girl demanded.

"I must go. The Midnight War has not released me." He did not kiss her goodbye nor ever hug her as he walked stiffly out the door. Janie Koeppen watched in disbelief as her man went out of sight, with a towering figure wrapped in concealing clothing stalking behind him. Everything she had experienced that morning overwhelmed her and she slid to the floor in a daze.

Parked under an elm was an old red Dodge Ram with considerable rust and a few dents. "All I have for a home," Gitano said. He swung up behind the wheel and gunned the motor, which sounded rough. Climbing into the passenger seat, Khang occupied nearly all the available space and had to bow his head to fit.

"I can feel where the collective is," Gitano said. "Almost like smelling their trail. Once you're part of the Group Mind, you're never entirely cut off from them." He pulled out on Tinker Street and bore left.

"Nebel told me that you broke away from this monstrous union. Haven't they sought you out?" Khang's voice echoed in the truck.

"Once or twice. I keep a low profile, I keep moving," Gitano said. "This is the first time I've been up here since.." He didn't finish the thought.

"Do you know who I am? Who Jeremy Bane is?"

"Vaguely," the wanderer muttered. "Just rumours. I've always been drawn to the occult, the paranormal but I never actually believed in it. Now I wish it weren't true." He glanced over at his passenger. "You know, I can't see an inch of what you look like."

Khang did not answer. After a few minutes, Gitano tried again. "Gary and I got away from the Group Mind but kept our abilities. Is that what happened to you? Are you a refugee, also?"

"Perhaps," said Khang. The mystery of his origin still troubled him deeply. "That could be why I am drawn to smash this Group Mind." He lapsed into silence.

As for Gitano, only the mechanical part of his mind concentrated on driving as he headed south. He thought back three long years to the sudden death of Ruth Welles, his Ruth. Poor little dreamer, who had not realized the danger of the forces she toyed with, not until she had that moment of terrible clarity just before she was spinning to hit the Hudson River from the bridge. Yes. He had wanted to forget, but that mercy was denied him. He thought of the Group Mind, and where his brutal right hand clenched the steering wheel, the plastic blistered and cracked.

IX.

Bane snapped back to full awareness, with an aching pain in his joints that he recognized as the effects off a gralic bolt. The Eldar talisman in his collar had not provided much protection that time. Not opening his eyes, not stirring, he tried not to show he was conscious in case he was being watched. He analyzed his sensations. He was naked. His field suit had been stripped from him, even the daggers were not on his forearms. He was sitting up, leaning back against what felt like rough wood. His wrists were bound behind him, by metal he thought. The Dire Wolf fought down instant rage and tried to remain still.

Focussing, he heard breathing on either side of him. His training was not refined enough yet to identify people that way- he had only been at Tel Shai three years- but he thought they both sounded steady and healthy. Then the breathing to his right quickened and gasped, and he heard the person stir. Bane squeezed an eye open the barest fraction and caught a glimpse.

It was the auburn-haired woman, also naked and also fastened to the wall with chains holding her wrists behind her back. She looked very young, not even twenty, with the tight body of a gymnast or dancer. As her head lifted, large green eyes swung around to fasten on him with sardonic amusement. "So. You're not one of the enemy or you wouldn't be here, am I right?"

Bane opened both eyes and met her gaze. "I was thinking the same thing. We seem to have a common foe." He twisted his head to his left and saw Cindy wriggling to get into a more comfortable position. The little blonde tried to stand up but slid down again. "Oww, that's gonna leave splinters."

The Dire Wolf said, "Cin. Situation?" He had taken in that they were bound to the inner wall of a barn that had been cleaned out. The dirt floor was hard and dry, the wide double doors were wide open to let in a broad wedge of afternoon sunlight. Just inside those doors were three neat piles of clothing and equipment.

"Aside from the obvious, that we are bare-ass naked and tied up in a barn? Well, the girl next to you is Karina. She was a college student named Barbara Hoyt but she thinks she has been possessed by the spirit of an ancient warrior goddess from the Darthan Age." The telepath paused. "And as far as I can tell, she has been."

"Now you know who I am," Karina chuckled. "What about you two?"

"My name's Cindy, Cynthia Lee Brunner. I'm a telepath. This is my man, Jeremy Bane, the Dire Wolf. We're investigators into everything weird and creepy."

Bane experimented with the chains holding his wrists behind him. "I'm starting to think we might be on the same side and got off on a misunderstanding. I've read about Karina, the original Karina, in Mr Dred's books. She always fought for justice and against tyranny in her nation of Myrrwha."

"I will do so again. Listen, Mr Bane. I can see from here that you are in handcuffs. The handcuffs have a chain wrapped around them that goes up to a hasp fastened to the wall. Can you see if that's the same for me?"

"Exactly the same," the Dire Wolf said. "You know, the chains are new, the hasp looks new. But the wall itself looks fairly old and maybe not too sturdy."

"That's all I need to know," answered Karina. "Let's see if Barbara's body is up to what I require of it." She got her feet under her and stood up.

Three people appeared in the open doorway and walked up to the prisoners. One was a doughy middle-aged woman, one a gangly teenage boy with long yellow hair. But their obvious leader stood in front of them. He was several inches over six feet tall, solidly built, with a square strong face and crisp brown hair going grey at the sides. In an impeccable tailored suit, he looked like the CEO of some major company. His eyes regarded them with a deadly calm.

"This one speaks for the union," he said. "We feel you three should be given an opportunity to join us. Your abilities are rare and would be valuable additions. Do not answer rashly. Dying is less desirable than becoming a member of our union."

"Becoming a mindless ant in your swarm, you mean!" Cindy snapped. "No. Never."

Bane met the man's gaze steadily. "You're Prime?"

"This body has been designated as Prime, for convenience, but we are all one."

"The Group Mind..." Bane said. "You're worse than I thought you would be."

Prime did not react. The other two members of the Group Mind stepped to either side of him. "These two bodies will guard you. One can cause fatal electric shocks and the other can protrude venomous stings from his fingers. They will kill you if you attempt escape."

Pulling tentatively on his chains, Bane judged how much slack he had. He had gotten to his feet. "You're waiting for something. You're keeping us here for a reason."

"We want former members returned. The ones you call Gitano and Nebel are lost and must be brought back to the union. You may serve as bait until you decide to join us." He turned on his heel and strode quickly from the barn without further comment.

"Good riddance," Cindy said. "That guy gives me the creeps."

As the two sentries stood and stared patiently, Bane finished planning his escape. Cindy gave him a knowing look. She had established their mental rapport, they had been working together so closely that they could act in unison. But Karina would be the unpredictable factor.

"I'm ready," Bane said. The middle-aged woman abruptly staggered, took a few steps closer, clutched at her head and fell to the dirt right at Karina's bare feet. Completely surprised, the blonde teenager stepped toward her. From under his fingernails, thin black stings slid out and glistened. As he bent forward, Bane whipped a reverse crescent kick that crashed the outer side of his foot to the boy's cheek with merciless impact. The boy's head twisted far to one side and he fell with his head hitting the dirt audibly.

"Nice trick," Karina said to Cindy. "Telepathy?"

"You bet. I managed to override her motor skills. Her brain is basically short-circuited for the moment. I don't know how soon the rest of their ant colony will realize it."

Karina brought her knees up suddenly and swung her feet overhead behind her, doing a quick backward flip that pressed her feet against the barn wall behind her body. Her legs were doubled up, her body horizontal to the ground. Taking deep breaths, she began to straighten her legs with every bit of strength. The long sleek muscles in her body stood out dramatically. For an endless moment, nothing seemed to happen. Sweat broke out on her body, running down between the small breasts and her face was a feral mask of determination. The chains were quivering, the handcuffs bit into her wrist but no blood oozed out.

It happened suddenly. The plate which was fastened to the wall tore loose as the dried old wood splintered under the strain. Karina fell forward on her face, rolling and quickly getting up again. Nimble as an acrobat, she leaped off the ground and brought her bound hands up under her feet to get them in front of her.

"Not bad," Cindy said. "I have to admit I couldn't do that."

The auburn-haired woman started wrestling with the handcuffs. Bane said, "Wait. In the inside right pocket of my jacket over there is a lockpick set. It's a small leather case with a clasp."

Without a word, she leaped to the pile of his clothing and clawed out a lockpick set from a pocket of his black jacket. "I have no idea how to do that," she began but the Dire Wolf interrupted her. "Give me the thin metal rod with the hook on the end. Yes, just put it in my hand." He had the common handcuffs off in a few seconds. Wheeling, he rushed over to Cindy and freed her as well. "You get our friend loose," he snapped. "I'm arming up!"

Cindy had not been practicing locksmithing with the same grim dedication that Bane had, but even so she had Karina freed in under a minute. The auburn-haired girl flung the chains aside and said, "Thanks so much."

"Don't mention it."

Characteristically, Bane had immediately strapped the silver-bladed daggers to his forearms, hilts forward. They were his main weapons, his best defense against magick and they had been given to him by Kenneth Dred at the very start of his apprenticeship. Next, he tugged on the silk-thin Trom armor and then hurried into the rest of his clothing. Beside him, Cindy was going through the same process with her own gear.

Yanking on her simple white jumpsuit, pulling up the front zipper, Karina stepped over by the open doorway of the barn. "Here comes trouble," she muttered.

As he got one arm into a sleeve of his jacket, Bane saw what she warned about. From a two-story frame house one hundred yards away, eleven people were marching briskly right at the barn. The people moved in step like an army... united by the Group Mind.

X.

"Stop this car," Khang commanded, "For evil draws near."

Gitano skidded over to the side, leaving the motor running. They were on Dutch Town Road, barely wide enough for two cars at the same time, with miles of forest on either side. "I don't see anything," he grumbled.

"You are not Khang." The silver man swung his door open and, as he stepped out, the truck body visibly lifted from having his weight eased. He strode to stand in the middle of the road, a towering figure wrapped in clothing which still could not entirely conceal the restless energy within his metallic body.

As he took his stance, a white U-Haul van came barreling around a curve straight at him. Khang held up a gloved hand and his voice echoed louder than a voice made by flesh and blood could, "HALT!" The van accelerated instead, speeding up and swerving to the center of the road to come right at him. The giant raised one fist overhead and waited.

The van crashed headlong into him, wrapping itself around a being who was not budged an inch. Khang stood more immobile than an iron post buried in the ground. The front of the van collapsed and folded up with a grinding of metal and clatter of shattered glass as the vehicle spun sidewise and came to a stop half off the road. One man was thrown out through the windshield and rolled across the road, and the horn blared wildly before going silent.

Unharmed, the silver man stepped back as a fender fell off. He took two strides toward the driver's side, gripped the door and yanked it off entirely to fling it aside. Khang peered inside. The driver was dead, his chest crushed against the steering column and blood in a mass from his nose and mouth. The passenger in the front had sailed through the windshield. Two men in the back stirred and moaned in agony.

Gitano jumped from his truck and ran up. "I recognize him. The driver. He's from the Group Mind. And that one in the road is Wallis..."

"If I had not sensed their utter evil, I would never have allowed them to strike me," Khang boomed. "Is the leader, the one called Prime, here?"

He stopped because he saw a thin man in a white shirt and jeans pass through the solid metal of the car, drifting through steel like smoke in human shape. "Delaney!" yelled Gitano. "He goes intangible, you can't harm him--"

"You think so?" Khang pointed an open hand and launched a thunderbolt of white light that struck Delaney in mid-step. The light faded, and nothing more remained of the man.

Gitano realized his mouth was hanging open. He had witnessed mystic force before, fought warlocks and demons, but he had never dreamed that something like Khang walked the Earth. He could not speak.

"Stand well back," the silver man warned him. "A car of innocents may come along at any second." Khang raised both hands and a burst of intolerably bright energy exploded like an atomic fireball. Little head was given off, but the glare was unbearable. When Gitano's watering eyes finally recovered, he blinked in horror.

Khang stood alone on the narrow back road. There were no traces remaining of the van or the men who had been in it. A thin hot streamer of vapor rose from the ground, and the surface of the road was cracked for three feet. The silver giant lowered his arms and swung around to stride back toward Gitano. He climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door. "Why do you wait? Get in and drive! One way or the other, this business will be finished..."

XII.


Extending her hand and bracing it with her other arm, Cindy snapped off five shots with the airgun. Nothing happened. She knew her skill and saw the enemy twitch as the anesthetic darts jabbed home in their bodies, but the darts had no effect. The strong drug that was injected with each dart normally dazed a subject within half a second and dropped him unconscious within five seconds. "Uh-oh," she said.

Standing beside her, Bane holstered his own dart gun. "They're spreading the effect among all of them. Damn. Sometimes I wish I had stuck to my old Smith & Wesson, that did the job."

The mind effect came. It was invisible and hard to describe, but immensely potent. Eleven conscious wills were focused with intensity on the task of controlling the mind of others, and that unseen wave slammed into the heads of Bane and Karina and Cindy. Probably the nearest one might feel in normal life would be standing before a crowd of people you know and having them urge you to do something you didn't want to do. It was like that, peer pressure given overwhelming force. An unshielded Human would have yielded instantly.

Facing them, fists down at her sides, Cindy Brunner closed her eyes and drew on all her telepathic powers. Teacher Anulka had shown her how to resist an attack like this. She visualized a barrier, a stone wall ten feet high and as thick, solid as the Earth itself. Their attack could not pass through it. The little blonde broke out in a cold sweat and her body trembled but she held her own. The invisible surge of domination rolled against the barriers put up by her discipline.

"Jeremy...." she whispered. "DO something."

The Dire Wolf saw only his partner and lover standing as if holding back a tsunami but he understood what was going on. Faster than a real wolf, he raced forward and decked the nearest member of the collective with a vicious left hook that spun the man around. The mind effect flickered and weakened for just a moment. As the man reeled drunkenly, Bane drove a straight punch to the center of the chest that stopped the man's heart and threw him lifeless to the ground.

Karina caught on and rushed to stand beside the Dire Wolf. The mind effect was held at bay, at least for the moment, by Cindy's efforts. The goddess of ancient Myrrwha spun, her leg blurring up in a roundhouse that broke a member's jaw and dropped him to the dirt. Even as that foot came down, Karina was hopping in to smash a high side kick to the throat of a beefy man, crushing the windpipe. Another member jumped on her from behind, Karina drove back her elbow to crack his sternum. As that man lurched in pain, she clapped both hands to his ears with killing force.

The most unnerving aspect was how emotionless the Group Mind was. Their faces were as bland and empty as if they were daydreaming, even as they attacked. There was something so inhuman about this serenity that they seemed like walking dead.

With three of their numbers downed in a few seconds, the crowd drew back. Bane seized one and blasted an elbow down to the neck that drove the man hard to the ground. But less than a second later, he had to jump far to one side as a jet of yellow flame shot where he had been standing. A wiry young man with curly dark hair was enveloped in an aura of flame. It moved around him as if he had been doused with gasoline and set afire, but he was not hurt.

Heat rolled off him and the air shimmered. The man pointed and a stream of flame rushed forward toward the Dire Wolf. Bane was too quick to be caught, though. He bent and picked up a rock the size of his fist and flung it hard to crack directly into the firestarter's face. The man's head snapped back and he fell, the flames sputtering out. Bane pounced and stamped his boot to the firestarter's chest with deadly impact.

As the firestarter died, another of the collective fell before Karina's attack. The goddess of ancient Myrrwha grabbed a blonde woman's long hair and yanked it back. As the woman's throat was exposed, Karina crushed it with her fingers and flung the corpse aside. She stepped on to the next opponent with fierce eagerness.

Six of their members were lost in a minute, and neither Bane nor Karina had been injured. Another of the Collective rose up as if seized by hurricane winds. This was a big black man with a shaven head. He swooped down straight at the Dire Wolf with hands ready to clutch, only to be sliced open with a swipe of a silver-bladed dagger. Bane sidestepped as the dying man crashed to the ground, but he himself was tackled by a small woman no more than five feet tall. Her skin had a strange dark gleam to it, and as she struck him in the back of the head, the impact sounded like rocks colliding. Her body was hard as stone. Bane flung her off, but he was dazed just enough for her to punch him again in the face with a hand like granite. Bane stepped back defensively, saw her moving in and seized her arm to fling her away with an aikido throw.

Karina had her own hands full. A Group Mind member wrapped himself around her with arms and legs that seemed rubbery and boneless. She fell to the dirt, rolling and trying to break loose but it was like wrestling with a python. Her breath was being cut off.

Still back at the barn door, Cindy was beginning to gain leverage over the mental attack. Every time one of the collective broke off to use a special power, his or her contribution to mind force was lost. She felt that she could overcome it completely in a few minutes but those were minutes she did not think she had. There were still a dozen of the beings standing, staring at her with cold emotionless concentration.

The one called Prime stepped away from the cluster. He strode slowly toward Cindy, and as he came nearer, the others froze into position. Bane and Karina paused, then moved toward him to intercept before he could reach the telepath. Prime's eyes shimmered and glowed with a lambent green light, flickered as if about to lash out like a whip...

The old pick-up truck roared up and skidded to a stop, almost plowing into the crowd. Gitano jumped from behind the wheel. "Hey! Hey, you monster! Here I am. I'm the one you want."

Prime did turn his head toward the wanderer. "Gitano..." he managed to say before a silver dagger thumped deep into his chest. Bane lowered his arm from the throw and moved over to where the spokesman for the Group Mind sprawled.

"He was going to hurt Cindy," the Dire Wolf said a chilling tone.

With Prime downed, the Group Mind drew back, then suddenly rushed forward as a mob. Khang stood in their way. The unbearable white light detonated as if lightning had struck at point-blank range and the thunder was like a solid blow. Bane, Karina, Gitano, Cindy... all were struck down and left senseless. It was a few minutes before their hearing and sight came back to useful levels. None of the mob remained. The hard dirt of the farmyard was empty, with wisps of steam rising up from the ground.

Khang turned his concealed face toward his comrades. The opaque lenses of the goggles were unreadable. "None could be spared," he said. "They were beyond redeeming."

Jeremy Bane stared at his most powerful ally and restrained a shudder. If Khang should ever turn against them... Without speaking, he checked that the others were all right. Karina had gotten to her feet, holding a bruised arm. Gitano seemed unsteady but he also stood. By the barn, Cindy slowly sank to a seated position and wiped her sweaty face as the mental effort had been broken off. She sighed and lowered her head.

Bane knew how she felt. Suddenly weary, he crouched to retrieve his dagger and gave a start as the body of Prime spoke. Through lips which barely moved, a faint croak said, "Do not.. think you have triumphed. This was but one Colony. We live. The Group Mind can not be destroyed..."

"I'll give it a try," Bane snorted and yanked the knife out. He cleaned it carefully on the tailored suit and sheathed it beneath his sleeve again. For another minute, he watched the corpse but seemed satisfied that it was really over. Cindy got up and came over to take his arm.

"What's next on the agenda, captain?" she asked.

"Hot showers. Food. Sleep. Tomorrow, who know?" He turned to Karina. "Thanks for everything. I wasn't sure I could get loose from those chains in time and I certainly wouldn't want to have fought that mob by myself. You do good work."

Cindy broke in. "You're welcome to come back with us. You know, meet the rest of our team, hang out for a while. Be nice to have another female in the boys club."

When she smiled, Karina suddenly seemed like a teenager again. "Perhaps I will. There is nothing to hold me here. Perhaps we may fight side by side against other enemies."

"And you, Gitano?" asked Bane. "You are Gitano, right?"

"What about me?" The wanderer had kept off to one side, head down and shoulders lowered. "Killing these monsters means nothing. It cannot undo what was done. I just want to be left alone." He swiveled and stomped off toward his Dodge without looking back.

Watching him go, Cindy Brunner narrowed her eyes. The wanderer hesitated and stood still for a few seconds, shaking his head, then got behind the wheel and sped back down the road the way he had come.

Bane said, "You erased his memories, didn't you? Just like that."

"It was easy because it was what he wanted," Cindy answered. "But I only blocked them off. Oh, it won't last forever. Some day, something will trigger them and he will remember everything again. But let him be as happy as he can be for now."

1/18/2014