May. 29th, 2022

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"Golden Ring and Cobalt Lamp"

11/11/1997

I.

When the old man stepped through the front door of the KDF headquarters, his feet stuck firmly to the polished hardwood floor as if they had been nailed there. He scowled and struggled but not could lift either foot even a fraction of an inch.

Watching his visitor, Jeremy Bane felt his suspicions confirmed. This man had given his name as Radi ben Mohallet and had asked for an appointment to discuss a serious Midnight War crisis in the making. He seemed be about seventy, below average height although some of that might come from his back being curved with age. Mohallet wore unremarkable Western clothes, a light brown business suit with a tan shirt and black tie; his white hair was cropped short and contasted with the deeply tanned wrinkled face. A prominent beaklike nose and deepset glowering eyes did not make him any more personable.

Standing off to one side, well out of reach, Bane was not alarmed but intensely curious. At forty, he remained gaunt and wiry in his invariable outfit of black slacks, sport jacket and turtleneck. The infamous grey eyes were colder than usual. Leaving the inner door open, he moved around to where he was facing Mohallet while staying a prudent distance. "You can't move because you're a threat to me," he said evenly.

"This is intolerable!" Mohallet snapped with a distinct but unobtrusive accent. "I have come here in good faith. Whatever Black Magick you are using on me, I demand to be freed."

"It's the farthest thing from Black Magick," replied Bane. He did not explain that a potent Eldar talisman was secured beneath the floor directly inside his headquarters. Nor did he explain that the Shield of Elvedal guarded those who lived here and would not allow enemies to pass. This was a secret he intended to keep. "Listen. Either your intention is to attack me or you are carrying a malevolent gralic talisman on you. What's the deal?"

Mohallet took a deep breath and got hold of himself. "Oh. I see. Very well, Dire Wolf. I suppose a man with many enemies must take precautions. What do you make of this ring?" With that he held up his left hand, showing a gleaming band on the second finger.

The Dire Wolf moved closer, staying wary getting a better look. "Hmm. Not pure gold, I'd say 12 karat. Obviously old. The oval on the face has an outline incised of an old-fashioned railroad lantern complete with handle. There is an inscription on the outer surface but I would need a magnifying lens to make it out. I don't see anything supernatural about it."

"This is a mighty talisman from the Days of Ignorance," said Mohallet. "My family has passed it down for many generations. Right now, it is cold and empty. Its flame has gone out. Yet I suspect that enough gralic traces remain that whatever you use to guard yourself has reacted."

"Well, certainly I'm interested." Bane held out an open palm. "Tell you what. Let me put that ring on the bookshelf beside the front door, right behind you there. You should be able to move around normally after that."

"Surrender the ring....?" The horror in Mohallet's voice sounded as if Bane had asked him to cut off the finger as well.

"It's up to you. Otherwise, you can slide a few steps backwards, that's available to you. I'd have to talk to you outside."

Mohallet chewed this over, then finally decided to tug the ring off one gnarled finger. He held it out and Bane took it to the top of a bookcase, between a framed photograph of William Murdock and a curious five-pointed fossil.

"It's as safe there as anywhere," Bane told the unhappy old man. "When the front door closed, all the locks and alarms armed themselves. You should be able to move now."

Stepping around in an experimental circle, the aged mystic grumbled, "A good host makes his guest comfortable."

"Yeah, right. And a good guest doesn't show up wearing a hostile talisman. Let's go in my office, that door over there." The Dire Wolf ushered Mohallet to a chair in front of a wide oak desk, then crossed over to seat himself facing the man.

The sorcerer was regarding the beautiful handpainted map of the world as it had been in 1937 that hung over Bane's desk. "So much has changed," he muttered as he peered up at the details. "Empires have fallen, new nations have risen, the lands shift. The world goes downhill."

"That's the way it goes," Bane dismissed the thought. "So. Mr Mohallet, you called me for an appointment a few days ago. The Dire Wolf Agency mostly handles serial killers, assassins, maniacs and so forth these days. But you are obviously deep into the Midnight War."

After the old man got himself comfortable, he unbuttoned his suit jacket and leaned back. "Yes. I know your reputation, Mr Bane. You have been a Tel Shai knight for twenty years. Your list of conquered enemies is most impressive. As you can see, my days of swift action and physical confrontations are behind me. In this hour of dark uncertainty, I could think of no man better suited to intervene and protect the race of humans."

"It's nice to be appreciated," said Bane. "What is it you think I can do for you?"

"Ah. You see, that ring is one of a pair of talismans from the elder days. According to the lore passed down, it was crafted by the great Suleiman himself, wisest of men, at the same time he fashioned an oil lamp. The two sigils are linked."

"Excuse me for bringing up what must be obvious," interrupted the Dire Wolf, "But the lamp outline cut into the ring is not from ages ago. It looks to me like a 19th Century railroad lantern. The kind workers carried when they walked the tracks at night."

"This is so. Over thousands of years, the ring and the lamp have changed. Some think that it was done by wizards to make them less antique in appearance. Some.. and here I tend to agree.. feel that the talismans adapted themselves gradually to changing times."

Bane did not smile in the slightest. "The idea is that these objects reshaped themselves? Well, I've seen stranger things happen. Where is this lamp anyway?"

"Ah. That is the great peril." Mohallet leaned forward, bony hands clasped and stared a bit too intensely for comfort. "If the ring and the lamp are brought together, enormous gralic power will be released.For good or for ill. And here in this country of yours, a vile thief and notorious rogue is even now hot on the trail of the lamp. I know he intends to snatch the two artifacts and gain such magic power that no one will be able to stand before him. I do not think there is much time, Mr Bane. If Aden succeeds, this land will groan under the heel of a new tyrant who cannot be stopped."

the rest of the story )
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"The Monster Maker"

2/13/1997

I.

As she stepped out of the black helicopter CORBY, freezing dawn wind blew Cindy back against the hull. She gasped and lowered the helmet quickly down over her dark blonde hair. In a second, she had closed the seal between helmet and the high collar of her field suit. As quickly as that, she felt snug and comfortable, breathing warm air that had passed through the mandible filters of the helmet. The telepath straightened up and turned back to close and fasten the hatch.

"Dayum, it's cold!" she yelled. "Maine in February, why can't we have a case in Hawaii today?"

Stepping around from the other side of the CORBY, Bane was in an identical field suit, with his helmet already sealed and visor down. He adjusted his left ear pod and suddenly was talking with her through the communications system. "We take them as they turn up," his voice came clearly into her headphones. "Want to give me a hand securing the bird?"

"Oh, sure," she answered, taking a bungee cable from him. For the next ten minutes, they fastened the CORBY down to pegs that Bane drove into the hard ground with a hammer. Then a waterproof camoflauge tarp was secured over the helicopter and finally the Dire Wolf seemed satisfied. He went around the CORBY one more time, checking everything, then wedged the hammer beneath the landing gear.

Cindy was looking around. "I don't see any monsters so far." the rest of the story )

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