"Lost Science of the Ancients"
May. 15th, 2022 12:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dochermes"Lost Science of the Ancients"
4/12-4/13/1978
The guard had been found frozen solid on a beautiful April afternoon, a day with a high of sixty-one degrees and a sunny sky. His body lay on the floor next to his overturned chair, the keys had been taken from his shirt pocket. Frost covered the man's skin and hair, and his dark blue uniform was white with hard ice crystals. Inspector Wollheim tilted his battered fedora back on a balding scalp and exhaled sharply. He felt he was getting too close to retirement age to be given this sort of assignment all the time. Somehow all the weird and creepy crimes were dropped in his lap. He knew this unofficial procedure was his fault in a way because he had been bringing such cases to Kenneth Dred.
Wollheim looked around at the shelves which lined the long, high-ceilinged room under bright fluorescent lights. There were many locked drawers and many glass-fronted cabinets holding particularly rare volumes, here in the section of the New York Public Library dedicated to the occult.
Of course, one cabinet was hanging open, keys still in the lock, and a gap where books leaned on each other showed where a few had been taken.
As the forensics squad had finished their measuring and photographing and sampling, they faded out and two paramedics got the frozen body on a stretcher. Covering the bizarre sight with a sheet, they headed out the door, leaving Wollheim alone with Sgt Yeager and the strange young man he had brought here.
Wollheim took a sidelong glance as Bane studied the scene. He had an odd kid, no more than twenty-one if that, six feet tall and gaunt at barely a hundred and seventy pounds. Jeremy Bane dressed all in black.... slacks, turtleneck and sport jacket. He had short black hair, a narrow intense face and the palest grey eyes Wollheim had ever seen. Under heavy brows, the sharp stare of those eyes was unsettling.
"I still wish Kenneth Dred coulda come out here himself," Wollheim grumbled. "I've seen him straighten mysterious stuff out while the dust was still settling."
Bane glanced back over one shoulder. "Mr Dred doesn't leave his building much these days. I'm here as his agent. Has anyone found what books were taken?"
"Yeah. The librarian dug through the index cards. Three books, all from 1880 or before. Let's see.. ZHUNE, HOMELAND OF THE HUMAN RACE. LOST SCIENCE OF THE ANCIENTS. And EXCAVATIONS IN FAR LANDS. All written by some Colonel James Chitwood. Mean anything to you?"
"No," answered Bane bluntly. He wrote down the titles in a little notebook from his inner jacket pocket. "I'm no expert. I just report to Mr Dred and he figures things out." He went over to the desk where the guard had been seated and poked around. "The desk and the chair aren't cold. Just the man himself was frozen. How could that be done?"
"Beats me," Wollheim said. "My first thought was that someone sprayed the poor guy with liquid oxygen but a wide area would have frozen. I'm stumped."
Bane stood with arms folded, looking back at the open cabinet. "So, these are books not available to the regular public. Scholars have to apply in advance to see them and a library official stays nearby to make sure they're not damaged. Have I got that right?"
"Yeah. Go on."
"I suppose you've already checked the records of who applied to see the three books which were stolen?"
"You suppose right, kid. In the past year, only three researchers asked to see those books. One was a West Coast publisher interested in putting them out in paperback for those who like the occult. He decided they weren't sensational enough. Another was a professor of languages at Stonybrook, he has some crackpot theories about European languages originally coming from this so-called country Zhune. He studied them for a few days, took notes and hasn't been heard from since."
Bane turned those piercing eyes full on Wollheim. "And the third request?"
"Ah, that's the odd one. The joker. A European guy named Donald Schnitzer. His credentials apparently seemed a bit insufficient and his request was politely declined. That was three days ago. He didn't file a complaint or make a scene, he just accepted it." Wollheim clucked. "The head of this department said Schnitzer made quite an impression, though. Way over six feet tall, wide enough to fill a doorway, with a shaved head and a sour disposition."
The young Dire Wolf checked out the other books in the cabinet, none of them mentioned 'Zhune'in their titles. "Next step is to talk to the guy, I suppose."
"I have to say, you're thinking in the right sequences," Wollheim said. "Dred told me he wants you to get a PI license. But as it turns out, Schnitzer checked out of the Riverview Hotel the next day and hasn't been seen since. He may have gone back to Germany."
Bane did not speak for a long moment. Then, as he headed for the door, he said over his shoulder, "Mr Dred wants to thank you for calling him in on this. I'm sure he will keep you informed if we find anything." With that, he stepped into the hall and trotted down wide marble stairs to the front entrance. He was back out in the bright afternoon sunlight in a few minutes, turning right at the sidewalk and hurrying to East 38th Street.
II.
There was the old building where he had been living for the past nine months, working as a field agent for Kenneth Dred. In those months, he had already been through a dozen horrifying adventures, going up against madmen and creatures he would have sworn could not exist. Only a few weeks earlier, he had flown out by the Philippines to stop the demented medical experiments of Dr Kobyashi and he was still troubled by what he had seen out there. It was because he kept busy and didn't have time to dwell on the atrocities that he was able to function.
Unlocking the front door, the young Dire Wolf entered the hall and peered into the reception room on his left. Dred was waiting in there. At seventy-eight, the occult scholar was a dry, spare figure who moved slowly but thought quickly. Seeing Bane in the doorway, his gnomish face lit in a genuine smile. "Ah, back so soon, my boy?"
Dred was sitting behind an oak desk under a huge hand-painted map of the world as it had been in 1937. He folded the TIMES and motioned for Bane to have a seat in front of him. For the next ten minutes, the Dire Wolf recounted what he had seen at the library, every word that the inspector had said, even seemingly irrelevant details. He had become skilled at this, and he could repeat long conversation accurately and describe what people had been wearing down to socks.
As usual, Dred listened without interrupting and then only had one or two questions. Finally, he folded his bony fingers and leaned forward. "You have some questions, Jeremy?"
"Yeah, a couple. What's the deal with this Zhune place? Was it real or just a story?"
"Zhune was quite real, Jeremy. Thousands of years ago, it existed in the Middle East near where Sumer and Ur were. One of the earliest cities that human beings built. Not much archaeological evidence has been collected about Zhune because it was leveled to the ground by some sudden disaster and other settlements built over it." Dred paused. "The two of us deal mostly with the Midnight War, you know. If we deal with ancient artifacts or weapons, they are likely to be from the Darthan Age which few know about. In comparison to the Darthan Age, Zhune was recent. I myself have never encountered any artifacts or devices from Zhune in all my years."
Bane shifted uncomfortably in the leatherbound chair. His enhanced metabolism made him restless at the best of times. "Somebody wanted those books on Zhune bad enough to kill a guard. I can't figure any way they could have froze him solid like that in just a minute or two, without affecting the rest of the room."
"The Lost Science of the Ancients," Dred said slowly. "Zhune was known and feared for its knowledge. The philosophers and alchemists and physicians of Zhune made remarkable advances for a time when men still used copper blades rather than iron. A few references have survived in speeches from their enemies about the Zhunites using the Cold Flame, the Withering Breath, the Door Between Doors. Most scholars dismiss these references but I have always wondered if there was more truth to them than is realized."
"The Cold Flame? Well, I guess that explains the frozen guard." Bane started to get up to pace but restrained himself with effort. "These Zhune guys were early scientists,then."
"Yes, but in a strange and different way from the science pioneered later by the Greeks.. the science we still use today. It was a dark, demon-haunted world back then and the Zhune thinkers got results that seem incredible by modern standards." Bane stood up. "You must be starving, Jeremy, you skipped breakfast and it's past two. Go in the kitchen and make whatever you want. I'll be trying to refresh my memory about Zhune."
"Thank you, sir." Ravenous as always, the Wolf strode quickly from the room and down the hall. Left behind, Dred smiled at his young protege's enthusiasm. The lad was everything he had hoped for. Searching his memory, Dred went out into the hall, which like most of the building had walls lined with bookshelves. For fifty years, he had been building his library and several collectors and Midnight War scholars had left their own books to him. Now he went down the hall, thinking, then slowly up a flight of stairs. On the second floor, under an oil portrait of a Puritan with a dueling sword in hand, Dred bent and plucked a specific book from its spot. LOST SCIENCE OF THE ANCIENTS by Colonel James Chitwood. He knew he had a copy here somewhere. Beginning to read, he went back down the ground floor and to his desk.
Fifteen minutes passed before Bane returned to the reception room. He had cooked and devoured a four-egg omelet with Parmesan cheese and strips of ham, drank most of a bottle of apple juice and then finished with two bananas. Having his superior reflexes carried a few prices, including a constant appetite and a jumpy disposition. Cleaning the kitchen thoroughly before heading back, the young Dire Wolf felt ready for everything. Seeing Dred behind the desk with an open book, Bane sat and waited.
Soon, the elderly occultist closed the book and seemed to notice his assistant for the first time. "Ah. I have a feeling we may be starting something quite serious, my boy. Chitwood describes how a British expedition in 1868 reported finding a cache of Zhune artifacts in what was then called Mesopotamia. Several excited letters were sent back to the London Museum. Then silence. A detachment of British soldiers was dispatched and found the bodies of the expedition, strangely withered and dessicated. None of the reported Zhunite devices were ever located. The consensus of thought in the archaeological community was that if the expedition had located any trove of weird devices, bandits had taken it and killed all the archaeologists. And that was an end to the matter."
"But...?"
"Indeed. But? Two years ago, I heard rumours of some strange items being offered for auction. There is an international black market for mystic talismans, you know. Some of the items remind me of inventions attributed to Zhune. A collector I know slightly, Sabrina Thurston, wrote me that she had purchased the Revealing Light, but I never went to see it. If someone is interested enough in the lost science of Zhune to murder a guard over three books, I think a person actually possessing a Zhunite artifact might be in great peril."
Bane was already on his feet and by the door. "Just give me the address, Mr Dred, and I'm on my way."
III.
It was a sixteen-story apartment building on upper Park Avenue, with an awning that extended out over the sidewalk so the millionaires would not get their gowns wet if it was raining when they disembarked from their limos. Jeremy Bane regarded it sourly, he didn't think much of rich folks after his early life. On the steps was a stout man in a red and gold uniform, wearing white gloves, regarding the young man in black with suspicion. "Are you expected, sir?"
"Sabrina Thurston. My name is Bane, I'm here on business for Kenneth Dred."
The doorman used a phone set on the wall just outside the twin glass portals with their gold pushbars, spoke softly for a monent and turned back with a much more polite expression on his face. "Very good, sir. Suite 13. The elevators are to your left as you enter." And he held the door open.
"Thanks," Bane replied and headed in. Places like these, with the marble counters and deep wine-red rugs and polished dark wood walls, never felt quite real to him. They seemed phony. But he had grown up in alleys and rundown bars and cheap hotel rooms, so he admitted he had a resentment. He rode up to the thirteenth floor and got out in a foyer the size of an office. There was a couch and some chairs, a telephone on a stand, even fresh flowers in a vase in a niche. A wide mahogany door said GUZMAN TOWERS - SUITE 13, with a white doorbell and he pressed the bell as if it offended him.
Immediately, the door was opened by a good-looking Italian man with a deep smooth tan and curly hair. The guy was wearing a suit but no tie, his collar unbuttoned. "Mr Bane?"
"That's right. And you would be?"
"Thomas, Miss Thurston's personal assistant. Kenneth Dred phoned here not ten minutes ago and Miss Thurston informed me that you would be arriving. Please step in."
Bane was led into what resembled a showroom for some antique store. Glass cabinets displayed dozens of curious objects, while larger items stood on their own pedestals or shelves. It reminded him of the vault in the basement of Dred's building. A row of grotesque wooden masks ran across one wall. There were swords of strange design on racks, many little idols in bronze or stone, broken bits of pottery and slabs of stone with inscriptions, even misshapen skulls of what looked like alligators with horns. One case held an assortment of amulets and rings, another displayed three Asian helmets with fierce scowling features cast on their faceplates.
"Good afternoon," came a woman's voice from behind him. Bane turned as Sabrina Thurston came through a door which she closed behind her. "I was pleased to hear from Kenneth after all this time but also a bit surprised. He sounded worried. And you are his new agent, Jeremy Bane, I take it?"
"That's right." Bane took her in with a single glance. Thurston was in her late sixties, thin, still standing straight and unbent. Her hair had turned completely white, tied in a bun at the back of her head and she had a prominent nose and chin. Her dark pantsuit with white silk blouse was expensive but simple. And she was returning his appraisal with her own.
"You look like a dangerous young man," she said. "Let's cut to the chase. What brings you here?"
"Mr Dred thinks you're in danger because of something you own. A guard at the Public Library was murdered this morning and three restricted books stolen. They were about Zhune. I understand you actually own something from Zhune?"
"And whoever kills to obtains books about Zhune would certainly kill to obtain a Zhune artifact? Yes, I can see that line of reasoning. But we do have security here. If the doorman had not stepped on a button while admitting you, the elevators would not have worked for you. And Thomas here not only has a 9mm semi-automatic on his person, he is a Golden Gloves boxer. I thank you and Kenneth but really-"
Her voice broke off as she saw the wall to her left light up, then turn clear as glass. It was a dumbfounding sight. Suddenly, they could see right through the wall into the hallway outside and two men stepped through into the room with them as if the wall had evaporated. The smaller man wore regular clothes, a flannel shirt and jeans and work boots. He was carrying a large brass lamp with a hose coiled from its base to a glass jug. No one even noticed him, nor the way the wall turned opaque again. The giant who preceded him into the room dominated the scene completely.
"Eldritch!" snapped Thurston. "Karl Eldritch. I never thought you would dare to come back to this country."
"There is little I would not dare," the man rumbled. He was seven inches over six feet tall, broad and muscular in a dark blue suit with vest and black necktie. The wide hard face was lined, and the head closely shaven. Under thick brows glared a pair of light hazel eyes that moved from Thurston to where Bane stood warily watching. "Ah. Kenneth Dred's new helper. Dire Wolf indeed, you seem no more than a pup."
Coming around from behind them, Thomas had his gun in both hands, pointing it firmly at the huge man. "I don't know how you got in here, mister, but you'd better leave the same way."
Eldritch smiled thinly. "Your life is almost over, my friend. I hope you were paid well." He lifted an open hand and a gout of blinding white force rushed out to tear straight through Thomas, almost severing the man's torso. The stench of burning flesh was intolerable.
As Thomas fell, Eldritch turned back to Thurston and Bane. "Lost science indeed! The Zhunites knew the ultimate truth about how the universe works. I need only convert the tiniest part of my body- no more than a few skin cells- into energy and atomic flame is available as much as I desire. Nuclear bombs are crude toys compared to my skill."
"Whatever you want, Karl," gasped Thurston as if she were having trouble catching her breath, "just take it and go."
"Oh, I shall." The mage motioned for his companion to step back out of the way. "There is much here I could put to good use, Sabrina. You have a fine collection. But my goal for now is mastery of the Zhunite secrets. Bring me the Piercing Light and I will depart without harming you."
"Very well. It's worth it, I have no room for false pride under these circumstances." Thurston went over to the cupboard in one corner, reaching in her jacket pocket for keys. In that second that Eldritch was watching her, Bane whipped a 38 Smith & Wesson from its holster behind his left hip and snapped off two shots. Twin sparks of white force flared up over the mage's chest but he was not harmed. Bane lowered the gun slowly.
"You still do not understand," Eldritch smirked. "Have you ever heard of Einstein? E=MC2? No. Energy can be changed to matter and matter into energy if one understands the Great Mystery, as I do. Your bullets were converted to energy which my body absorbed. I am not some common sorcerer you may defeat, child. I am Karl Eldritch!"
The Dire Wolf reluctantly holstered his gun, stymied for the first time. He did not know enough about these matters to tell if Eldritch was being truthful or not. Their eyes locked in a struggle of will, and Bane tried in vain to think of a way to attack this man without being instantly killed.
Coming over to them, Sabrina Thurston was carrying a metal bar as long as her arm, with a round crystal lens at each end, one lens twice the diameter of the other. "The Piercing Light, as you can see."
"So. Hand it over." Eldritch examined it intently for a second and seemed satisfied. "Very well. I bear you no ill will, Sabrina. You will not be harmed." He turned to regard Bane thoughtfully. "Perhaps it would be prudent to simply slay you now, Dire Wolf. You know almost nothing of the Midnight War, you rely on innate speed and tenacity in your battles. Yet I have a feeling someday you will be a threat to even me."
"It's up to you," Bane said. "I promise I will bring you down for these deaths."
"Oh, spare me the delusions of youth." Eldritch raised a hand in a dismissive gesture and a thunderclap of force exploded in that room, echoing from wall to wall, hurling Bane hard against a counter to knock it over in a crash of breaking glass. Turning to his companion, the mage ordered, "Come, Inagra. The Door Between Doors." The man adjusted something on the lamp he was holding, the wall flashed brightly and became clear again. Eldritch and his crony stepped through the translucent barrier, which solidified and became normal again behind them.
On the floor, Bane slowly got to his hands and knees. He was surprised to be alive and wondeed why Eldritch had settled for stunning him with that blast when it would have been just as easy to vaporize him completely. The Dire Wolf picked broken glass from his hand, saw Thurston staring at him and straightened up. As he brushed bits of glass from his clothing, he turned toward where the body of Thomas still sprawled, almost seared in two. "I don't know what kind of story you're going to tell the police," he said. "That's gonna be hard to explain."
"I'll call Kenneth first. He's had experience dealing with situations like this. I'm sure he knows a way to handle this. Poor Thomas! He was just talking about taking a few days to visit his family..."
III.
Just over six hours later, Bane was allowed to leave the scene. Inspector Wollheim and the forensics squad were certainly in no rush to get going, he thought sourly. Kenneth Dred had coached him on how to handle police interrogations, how to respond when the same questions were asked a dozen different ways, what traps to look for in written statements before signing them. Bane was careful with his replies, keeping an even tone in his voice and not volunteering any information that wasn't asked for. Dred had also shown Bane how to use the questioning to find out what the police knew and didn't know, by what they were looking for.
Neither Bane nor Thurston said anything about the wall turning transparent and two men walking right through it. The charred condition of Thomas Crincoli's body was difficult enough for the police to deal with. The conclusion Wollheim reached unofficially was that the killer had gotten hold of some new top secret weapons, probably developed by the military or the CIA. A freezing device and a heat ray of some kind. Just what the world needed, he said.
Sabrina Thurston had identified the killer. He had given his name as Donald Schitzer at the library, but he was actually Dr Karl Eldritch. She had met him in Germany a few years earlier when they were both trying to obtain some ancient talismans. Eldritch had quite a reputation as a shady character, suspected of crimes he was never charged with. There were rumours that people disappeared who crossed him. She had been surprised to see him in America because she had heard that the FBI wanted to talk to him about some robberies.
Finally, Wollheim allowed Bane to leave. The Dire Wolf didn't hide his sullen disposition as he took the elevator down to the lobby. Before leaving the building, he went into one of the elegant phone booths with wooden doors which closed completely and called Kenneth Dred to report, saying he would be back at the 38th Street building in a few minutes. Back out on the street, it was getting dark. Annoyed at all the time wasted by the cops repeating themselves a dozen times, Bane hurried south. He stopped at a vendor to buy two hot dogs and a hot pretzel and devoured them before he got to the next block. Before he reached 38th Street, though, he managed enough self-awareness to realize he was mad mostly at himself for not being able to stop this Eldritch character.
Bullets had been useless. He had the two silver daggers up his sleeves and he had the enhanced speed that had always been his greatest advantage, but he had no seen a way to use them successfully against Eldritch. Next time will be different, he promised himself. There's always a way. He turned on Lexington and saw the two lights in their cast iron holders had been turned on over the door. Bane unlocked the door, entered the hall and saw light coming from the open door of the dining room. Three times a week, Dred had two housekeepers come in to prepare huge meals which ensured leftovers for the following days, to catch up on laundry and do some light cleaning. Tonight was one of those nights.
His stomach growled audibly as he caught the scent of roast turkey. The dining room was mostly taken up by a long dark wood table with six chairs around it. There were sideboards holding cold cuts and desserts and appetizers, and a small wine rack. As Bane entered, he saw the table held a medium-sized turkey with the usually trimmings... stuffing, sweet potatoes, corn and green beans, hot buttered rolls. The Dire Wolf restrained himself from simply grabbing handfuls of the food and calmly said, "Evening, sir."
Seated at the head of the table, Dred half rose and motioned for Bane to seat himself on the left. A guest was already sitting by Dred's right side. "Dig right in, Jeremy," said the old scholar. "After you called, I had Mr and Mrs Katchurian lay out the meal before they left. We'll have to clean up, but that's not a problem."
Bane piled his plate high, filled a tumbler with ice water and got to work. His metabolism burned calories mercilessly. After a few bites, he glanced over at the man seated next to Dred and nodded.
"Jeremy, this is Garrison Nebel. I've known him for quite a few years now. I invited him over tonight to get his thoughts on the current problem. Good of you to come at such short notice, Garrison."
"Oh, I've enjoyed the Katchurians' cooking and that swayed me," Nebel said with a grin. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, a slim man with light brown hair and a long narrow face. Nebel wore slacks and a white dress shirt with the cuffs rolled back. He finished chewing and put down his fork. "Glad to meet you, Jeremy. I don't know if you realize what a stir you've caused in the Midnight War."
"I have?"
"Oh yes. You've been working for Kenneth here only since last September and you've tackled some very dangerous opponents in close succession. You're actually a bit of a celebrity in the Midnight War now."
"Huh," Bane said as he ripped a hot roll in half and shoved it in his mouth. "I'm just Mr Dred's agent."
"And," Nebel continued, "Kenneth tells me just today you crossed paths with Karl Eldritch. He's a major problem wherever he turns up."
"What's his story? How can I handle him?"
"Well. Eldritch was a sorcerer like many others in the Midnight War. He developed the ability to focus gralic power and he got hold of a few Darthan talismans. That was bad enough. But a few years ago, he developed an obsession with Zhune. It started with one book he came across, then he began reading everything he could find on the topic. Eldritch managed to locate a cache of devices from Zhune that had been lost for almost a century, he experimented with them and figured out how to make them function. He solved what Zhunites called the Great Mystery."
As Nebel paused to eat, Bane did the same. He had already cleaned his plate and he put a few more slices of turkey together with cranberry sauce. Kenneth Dred watched with a fond smile, not eating much himself.
A few minutes later, Nebel continued. "This is excellent, Kenneth. I wish I could afford to have the Katchurians come cook dinner at my house. Anyway. Eldritch dropped gralic sorcery to concentrate on Lost Science. He has at least a dozen devices from Zhune that do amazing things. You saw one of them today, the Door Between Doors. The consensus is that the Door Between Doors somehow aligns spaces between molecules so that one object can pass freely through another. Eldritch and his helper used the device to walk through a solid wall."
"Then Miss Thurston handed him something called the Piercing Light. It was a thing with a lense at each end," Bane said.
"The Piercing Light. Yes. I believe that's a sort of X-Ray gadget. One reference says that the Zhunite wise men could see inside fortresses and vaults with the Piercing Light, even look into a living person and watch the heart beating. Eldritch has the Cold Flame as well, judging from what happened to that poor guard." Nebel put down his fork and knife, wiped his mouth with a napkin. "God only knows how many other Zhunite inventions he has collected."
Bane was done with his meal as well, and he began taking the plates across the hall to the kitchen. His job was to act as investigator, bodyguard and courier but he helped out in the building automatically. As he went to pick up what was left of the turkey, Dred said, "Oh, please leave that, Jeremy. I want to wrap it and sort the leftovers out myself."
Sitting back down, the Dire Wolf looked over at Nebel. "What was Eldritch going on about, matter into energy and energy into matter?"
"That's what the Zhunites called the Great Mystery. They had a sort of atomic theory a thousand years before the Greeks, although they visualized it differently. You know how a nuclear bomb works. It converts a tiny bit of matter into a huge amount of energy. The Zhunites found a way to work the process both ways. When Eldritch killed Sabrina's assistant, he was taking a tiny bit of his own body and releasing it as atomic flame... hotter than the surface of the sun."
"And the way he sucked up two bullets?" Bane asked.
"He converted the bullets into light and soaked it into his skin." Nebel shook his head. "Eldritch is a terrible threat. I don't see how he can be beaten. Maybe if taken offguard, he could be killed but he is always wary."
The young Dire Wolf finished a tumbler of ice water and put it down. "We can't just take the easy fights."
IV.
Garrison Nebel said, "Kenneth, let me look through your library tonight. Don't you have a copy of Hiroshi's MYSTERIES OF THE AGES? He had sketches of some Zhunite devices. I remember something called the Ultimate Nullifier..."
"Certainly, feel free. There are guest rooms on the third floor all made up if you decide to stay." Dred got to his feet, a bit stiffly. "I myself have many loose notes I should go through. Everything in the universe has a weakness, everything can be stopped if we just see the way."
Bane stood with folded arms, scowling. "Listen. Aside from this Zhune business, what else would this Eldritch be up to while he's in town? Does he go drinking in night clubs? Visit call girls? Where would I find him at night?"
"Karl Eldritch..." Nebel said. "He's disciplined and single-minded. He does enjoy classical music, but I don't think there's anything right now that would appeal to him. Let me think. I can see him touring art galleries and museums."
"The Museum of Natural History? The Metropolitan Museum of Art?"
"No, I don't think so. He is in this country illegally, and he certainly wants to keep a low profile especially with his being tied to two murders."
Bane was getting annoyed. "The cops will be asking at every hotel if someone of his description is registered there. They'll be at every place you can rent a car. We can't match their manpower, we have to beat them in a different way. Who does he know in New York? Any friends he'd visit?"
Now Kenneth Dred sat up straighter and raised an eyebrow. "Not friends exactly, but he used to be allied with Red Sect. For a while, it seemed he was about to take leadership of the group. I can see him staying with the Lundborgs to keep out of sight."
"Red Sect! Those guys.." Bane said. "I'm going to check it out. Mr Dred, I'll take the car and call here after I make contact." He started for the hall, but paused as Dred warned, "We don't have a plan. We have no suggestion how you can deal with the power Eldritch wields."
The Dire Wolf allowed the faintest of smiles across his deadpan face. "I always think of something, sir." He left the room and went into the walk-in closet by the front door, through a sliding panel and down steep concrete steps. Bane hurried along a narrow walkway between storage rooms and opened the plain door to the underground garage. Here sat Kenneth Dred's dark blue Buick Regal, waxed and polished and gassed up, always ready to go. Bane started the big car and rolled up the ramp, making a sharp turn as a sliding steel panel automatically raised and then lowered behind him. He turned onto the Lexington Avenue and was out in the night. Now he felt alive. He was a creature of the night himself in many ways. Bane headed north.
Leaving the city itself, he cruised up to White Plains, stopping to top off the gas tank. By now, it late at night, with almost no traffic, as he drove into Schuylerville. On the outskirts of the town, next to a veterinary hospital, was a steep hill on which sat a big and rather garish Victorian mansion. Bane drove past it, pulled over and parked on a side road, then hopped out of the car. In his black suit, he was a barely visible blur in the night as he trotted through a wooded area and crept onto the estate of the Lundborg family.
As he crept along the waist-high stone wall that encircled the property, the Dire Wolf smiled at the way Nebel had described Eldritch as disciplined and restrained, concerned with classical music and art galleries. Well, not hardly. As a young man, Eldritch had met the Lundborg brothers in Europe and they had founded Red Sect. Using gralic magick for down-to-earth goals such as crushing business rivals, living in luxury and throwing week-long drunken orgies, Red Sect had been a success for decades. Bane expected Eldritch had not changed much. If he was here in America illegally, the Lundborg estate would be the logical place to take cover. Bane hopped over the wall and moved from tree to tree, heading for the back of the mansion. There was a guard, right in the obvious place.
Unseen in the darkness, moving low with fingertips almost touching the ground, the Dire Wolf darted forward and leaped up to crack the edge of his stiff open hand to the base of the guard's neck. It was a killing blow. He caught the body before it fell and hauled it into the bushes. That was one thing he liked about occult sects, he thought.. they did not have the practical sense of setting up security that common mobsters did. Breaking into gang property would be riskier than sneaking onto the Lundborg estate because the warlocks were more concerned with other sorcerors than with someone who had no gralic powers. Like himself.
Bane stepped closer toward the rear of the mansion. Here was a gravel area with a driveway leading around to the road, and four cars parked in a line. Pretty nice cars, he thought. One was an El Dorado. The Dire Wolf froze next to a tree and waited. He expected one more guard and, sure enough, here came a big guy in black trousers and a white dress shirt. There was too much open space for Bane to rush him successfully. The guard was holding a small 9mm semi-automatic pistol in one hand, but he stuck it in his belt and dug for a cigarette. As he placed the filter end in his mouth, a slim throwing dagger suddenly thumped home in the middle of his chest. The guard wheezed and fell straight down to the gravel.
Bending over the body, Bane dragged it out of sight behind a shed which held a lawn mower in its open doorway. He retrieved the silver dagger and cleaned it carefully before sheathing it again under his sleeve. He had always had some skill at knife throwing but in the months he had been working for Kenneth Dred, he had developed real proficiency with these matched daggers. They were so well balanced, just right for the size of his hands and his throwing style. The Dire Wolf straightened up again, glared around in the gloom and stepped up to the rear door of the Lundborg mansion. It was unlocked and he went in.
The next ten minutes went by with agonizing tension as Bane stole through darkened hallways. Every time he placed a foot down, it was carefully chosen not to make a floorboard creak, every time he peered into a doorway, it was with his breath held and a hand on the hilt of a silver dagger. Ahead, faint music was playing and he grudgingly made his way toward it. At the foot of the stairs going to the second floor, he crept around and looked into the main room. There was no furniture, big throw pillows were piled on the floor. Twenty naked bodies sprawled in complete exhaustion, arms and legs flung over each other. Empty bottles and three hookahs were visible, the smell of sweat and opium and wine was heavy in the air. In the center of the pile, arms around two blondes who really did not look to be of legal age, was the great obscene bulk of Karl Eldritch. The man was snoring contentedly. In one corner, a fat old man turned over with a sigh and went back to sleep.
Disgusting, thought Bane, but at least they were not sitting there waiting for him to arrive. He began searching the house again. One door was partly ajar, light coming from behind him, and he sensed movement. The Dire Wolf got closer, listening as he slowed his own breathing. He heard a man clear his throat on the other side. Drawing a dagger with his left hand, he flung the door open with his right and lunged in. In the tiny fraction of a second that the beefy guard glanced up in surprise, a silver blade slid into his heart. With his other hand, Bane had clapped the man's mouth shut and he lowered the body to the floor, then closed the door and looked around.
This was a cloakroom, with coats hanging on pegs and boots lined up on mats. Shelves on the wall had been cleared to make room for a half dozen bizarre items. There was the steel rod with a lense on each end, that Thurston had handed to Eldritch. The Piercing Light. And there was the lamp with a cord going into a tank, the Door Between Doors. One device looked like a bellows with a long nozzle, another resembled a crossbow but with a shiny disc instead of a string. All the relics were rather small, easily held in one hand. Bane jumped into life. Now was the time for quick action. He looked around, opened a deacon's bench and took out a brown tarp. Not taking the greatest care with the ancient artifacts, he wrapped them in the tarp and tied the ends to make a bundle.
Eldritch was a fool not to have kept these locked deep in a cellar or somewhere, he thought. But the guy probably wanted to show off his treasures to his colleagues in Red Sect. Boasting had been the downfall of shrewder men than he was. Bane got out in the hall and moved as stealthily as before to the rear of the house. As he went out the back door, he heard a woman from the party room groggily complain, "Not AGAIN," and then he was racing through the dark yard, over the stone fence and onto the side road. He dumped the tarp into the trunk of Dred's Buick, then fired the big car up and tore off into the darkness.
V.
In the middle of the night, Jeremy Bane drove down the concrete ramp into the small garage beneath Dred's building. He parked the Buick with a feeling of relief, then got the tarp from the trunk and hauled it upstairs. Once he had put a few miles between him and the Lundborg estate, he had pulled into a gas station and called here to fill Dred in, so he was not surprised to find both Dred and Nebel wide awake in the reception room waiting for him. A coffee pot was plugged in on a sidetable, and the aroma was strong.
The top of the desk had been cleared off, and as Bane lowered the tarp to the rug, all three men began placing the Zhunite artifacts carefully on the desk. "Amazing," said Nebel, "It's hard to believe these devices are more than four thousand years old. What do you think they're made of, Kenneth? Surely it can't be stainless steel?"
"I don't see how that would be possible. Not a sign of rust or corrosion." Dred began arranging the artifacts in a row. "This certainly is the Piercing Light. And this, the Door Between Doors. From the description in Chitwood's book, this bellows produces the Cold Flame. But here is not the place to experiment with these, my friends. Later, outside, preferably with a great deal of open space is where we can find out what these inventions actually do."
Nebel's voice had its first spark of excitement as he examined the crossbow-like device. "The Ultimate Nullifier. This I recognize from Chitwood's book. It's a safety feature. The Nullifier neutralizes the power source of the other devices in case they were to fall into the wrong hands."
Standing well back with arms folded, Bane asked, "Just what do these things use for power anyway? They couldn't have had wall outlets way back then!"
"Heh. No, indeed. These devices each have a sort of battery in them, a dry cell which was charged by a jolt of the atomic energy the Zhunites knew how to release." Dred glanced over at where the young Dire Wolf stood. "What you saw Karl Eldritch kill that poor young man with, only much better controlled. Without the knowledge of conversion of matter into energy, I doubt if any of these machines could ever be made to function."
Bane carefully picked up the device which resembled a crossbow with a copper disc where its bowstring would be. The Nullifier felt warm to the touch, with a slight vibration he could just perceive. "I'll tell you what, these gizmos are charged up right now. I bet Eldritch keeps them ready for use."
"We haven't mentioned it," Nebel said, "but how long do we have before Eldritch realizes his treasures have been filched? And before he comes here looking for them?"
"Hard to say." Bane kept the Ultimate Nullifier in hand, studying its obvious trigger mechanism. "Between the drugs and the wine and the orgy, you'd think he'd be asleep until noon. But I wouldn't count on it with a guy like him."
Standing by a window looking out on 38th Street, Kenneth Dred said, "You'd be right. He must have roused himself almost as soon as you left, Jeremy. Here he is now."
Standing behind his mentor, the Dire Wolf spotting a black Lincoln coming to a halt in front of their building. From behind the wheel, a huge man in dark slacks and white shirt loomed suddenly up and swung furious eyes at the front door of the building. He slammed the car door shut and strode angrily up to the sidewalk.
V.
Bane said, "Maybe you two should get downstairs? This is my job."
Neither Dred nor Nebel responded. The Dire Wolf felt a little chagrin having suggested it, but it seemed to him that he was paid to do the fighting. He stepped out into the hall just as intolerable white light shone through the inner door. The locks and doorknob vaporized, leaving a clean circular hole and Eldritch kicked the door open to step inside. Behind him, the outer door hung open with a similar hole burned right through it.
"All right, we're going to send you the bill for those," Bane said calmly.
"Be still!" came the deep voice. In the subdued lighting of the hall, the shaven head gleamed and the hazel eyes stood out sharply. "Your life is forfeit already. But return my property and I will let Kenneth Dred live what years are left to him."
"YOUR property?" asked Dred from the door to the reception room. "What you killed at least two men to steal."
Eldritch held out a huge meaty head, palm up. "I will not debate. This young fool must disappear completely as atomic fire breaks his very being apart. But you, Kenneth, I have some respect for you. I found your books well-written and lucid. If I can spare you, I will. Either way, the Zhunite relics leave with me this morning."
"Says you," snorted Bane. He had been standing slightly sideways, with his left side away from the sorcerer. Now he swung up the Zhunite device that resembled a crossbow and squeezed what he hoped must be the trigger. The relic bucked in his hands and a loud clunking noise echoed as a burst of white light rushed from the disc to envelop Eldritch. The sorceror cried out and fell back, knocking over the coatrack as he was slammed against the wall.
"Sure hope this works," the Dire Wolf muttered as he watched Eldritch groggily get to his feet. With a curse, the sorcerer thrust out his open hand and nothing happened. He tried again. The expression of dismay on his face was almost comical. He stared down in disbelief at his hands. "The Ultimate Nullifier... but how did you know?"
Bane placed the device on top of a shelf and knotted his fists. "You know, seeing as how you don't have your atomic blasts anymore, it's a good chance to rough you up a little. I bet it's been a long time since anyone stood up to you!" He took a step forward.
"Imbecile! I will break you like a wishbone. I am twice your size."
"The dinosaurs were big, too," Bane laughed, "and look where they are today."
Nebel unexpectedly stepped up next to the Dire Wolf and threw a lever on the bellows device. A high-pressure stream of frigid air gushed out and poured over the still groggy Eldritch, covering him with a thin coating of frost. Taken by surprise, the sorcerer fell headlong to the floor again and this time he did not rise.
"Hey!" yelled Bane angrily. "I wanted to punch his face in!"
"Sorry," Nebel replied. "It's not that I wouldn't enjoy watching you beat the tar out of him. But you'd wreck Kenneth's hall in the process. As it is, he'll have to replace those doors." He lowered the Cold Flame device. "You know, I think this boy is still moving."
Kenneth Dred slowly crouched over the icy form and saw an arm twitch. "He's breathing, but just barely. Maybe you did not give him a full dose of the Cold Flame, Garrison."
"Or maybe he's just a big tough gorilla," Nebel said. "That guy must be six feet six or better. He filled your doorway when he was standing in it."
"Time to call the cops?" asked Bane.
"No. Not the police, Jeremy." Dred rose rather stiffly, at seventy-eight he was fighting arthritis more and more. "They'd put him in a holding cell and he'd break out within twenty-four hours. We don't know how long until his power returns." The old man sighed. "As much as I hate dealing with Department 21 Black, I guess we have to turn Eldritch over to them. They specialize in Midnight War prisoners and I believe Eldritch is wanted for many crimes across Europe. These last two murders would be impossible to prove in court."
"If you say so, sir." The Dire Wolf could not keep disappointment from his voice.
"I'll call the local FBI office," said Dred. "They should have some 21 Black agents here in ten or fifteen minutes, judging by past clashes with them. Jeremy, would you wrap these Zhunite relics and secure them in the vault. The last thing we want is 21 Black getting hold of them."
"Sure thing," Bane said, taking the Nullifier and the Cold Flame into the reception room. As he wrapped all the ancient artifacts, he was still sullen about the way the confrontation had ended.
Out in the hall, Nebel asked almost in a whisper, "Could Jeremy really have taken this brute in a hand to hand fight?"
"Absolutely," Dred answered with a smile. "I think you saved Eldritch's life by intervening."
4/25/2014
4/12-4/13/1978
The guard had been found frozen solid on a beautiful April afternoon, a day with a high of sixty-one degrees and a sunny sky. His body lay on the floor next to his overturned chair, the keys had been taken from his shirt pocket. Frost covered the man's skin and hair, and his dark blue uniform was white with hard ice crystals. Inspector Wollheim tilted his battered fedora back on a balding scalp and exhaled sharply. He felt he was getting too close to retirement age to be given this sort of assignment all the time. Somehow all the weird and creepy crimes were dropped in his lap. He knew this unofficial procedure was his fault in a way because he had been bringing such cases to Kenneth Dred.
Wollheim looked around at the shelves which lined the long, high-ceilinged room under bright fluorescent lights. There were many locked drawers and many glass-fronted cabinets holding particularly rare volumes, here in the section of the New York Public Library dedicated to the occult.
Of course, one cabinet was hanging open, keys still in the lock, and a gap where books leaned on each other showed where a few had been taken.
As the forensics squad had finished their measuring and photographing and sampling, they faded out and two paramedics got the frozen body on a stretcher. Covering the bizarre sight with a sheet, they headed out the door, leaving Wollheim alone with Sgt Yeager and the strange young man he had brought here.
Wollheim took a sidelong glance as Bane studied the scene. He had an odd kid, no more than twenty-one if that, six feet tall and gaunt at barely a hundred and seventy pounds. Jeremy Bane dressed all in black.... slacks, turtleneck and sport jacket. He had short black hair, a narrow intense face and the palest grey eyes Wollheim had ever seen. Under heavy brows, the sharp stare of those eyes was unsettling.
"I still wish Kenneth Dred coulda come out here himself," Wollheim grumbled. "I've seen him straighten mysterious stuff out while the dust was still settling."
Bane glanced back over one shoulder. "Mr Dred doesn't leave his building much these days. I'm here as his agent. Has anyone found what books were taken?"
"Yeah. The librarian dug through the index cards. Three books, all from 1880 or before. Let's see.. ZHUNE, HOMELAND OF THE HUMAN RACE. LOST SCIENCE OF THE ANCIENTS. And EXCAVATIONS IN FAR LANDS. All written by some Colonel James Chitwood. Mean anything to you?"
"No," answered Bane bluntly. He wrote down the titles in a little notebook from his inner jacket pocket. "I'm no expert. I just report to Mr Dred and he figures things out." He went over to the desk where the guard had been seated and poked around. "The desk and the chair aren't cold. Just the man himself was frozen. How could that be done?"
"Beats me," Wollheim said. "My first thought was that someone sprayed the poor guy with liquid oxygen but a wide area would have frozen. I'm stumped."
Bane stood with arms folded, looking back at the open cabinet. "So, these are books not available to the regular public. Scholars have to apply in advance to see them and a library official stays nearby to make sure they're not damaged. Have I got that right?"
"Yeah. Go on."
"I suppose you've already checked the records of who applied to see the three books which were stolen?"
"You suppose right, kid. In the past year, only three researchers asked to see those books. One was a West Coast publisher interested in putting them out in paperback for those who like the occult. He decided they weren't sensational enough. Another was a professor of languages at Stonybrook, he has some crackpot theories about European languages originally coming from this so-called country Zhune. He studied them for a few days, took notes and hasn't been heard from since."
Bane turned those piercing eyes full on Wollheim. "And the third request?"
"Ah, that's the odd one. The joker. A European guy named Donald Schnitzer. His credentials apparently seemed a bit insufficient and his request was politely declined. That was three days ago. He didn't file a complaint or make a scene, he just accepted it." Wollheim clucked. "The head of this department said Schnitzer made quite an impression, though. Way over six feet tall, wide enough to fill a doorway, with a shaved head and a sour disposition."
The young Dire Wolf checked out the other books in the cabinet, none of them mentioned 'Zhune'in their titles. "Next step is to talk to the guy, I suppose."
"I have to say, you're thinking in the right sequences," Wollheim said. "Dred told me he wants you to get a PI license. But as it turns out, Schnitzer checked out of the Riverview Hotel the next day and hasn't been seen since. He may have gone back to Germany."
Bane did not speak for a long moment. Then, as he headed for the door, he said over his shoulder, "Mr Dred wants to thank you for calling him in on this. I'm sure he will keep you informed if we find anything." With that, he stepped into the hall and trotted down wide marble stairs to the front entrance. He was back out in the bright afternoon sunlight in a few minutes, turning right at the sidewalk and hurrying to East 38th Street.
II.
There was the old building where he had been living for the past nine months, working as a field agent for Kenneth Dred. In those months, he had already been through a dozen horrifying adventures, going up against madmen and creatures he would have sworn could not exist. Only a few weeks earlier, he had flown out by the Philippines to stop the demented medical experiments of Dr Kobyashi and he was still troubled by what he had seen out there. It was because he kept busy and didn't have time to dwell on the atrocities that he was able to function.
Unlocking the front door, the young Dire Wolf entered the hall and peered into the reception room on his left. Dred was waiting in there. At seventy-eight, the occult scholar was a dry, spare figure who moved slowly but thought quickly. Seeing Bane in the doorway, his gnomish face lit in a genuine smile. "Ah, back so soon, my boy?"
Dred was sitting behind an oak desk under a huge hand-painted map of the world as it had been in 1937. He folded the TIMES and motioned for Bane to have a seat in front of him. For the next ten minutes, the Dire Wolf recounted what he had seen at the library, every word that the inspector had said, even seemingly irrelevant details. He had become skilled at this, and he could repeat long conversation accurately and describe what people had been wearing down to socks.
As usual, Dred listened without interrupting and then only had one or two questions. Finally, he folded his bony fingers and leaned forward. "You have some questions, Jeremy?"
"Yeah, a couple. What's the deal with this Zhune place? Was it real or just a story?"
"Zhune was quite real, Jeremy. Thousands of years ago, it existed in the Middle East near where Sumer and Ur were. One of the earliest cities that human beings built. Not much archaeological evidence has been collected about Zhune because it was leveled to the ground by some sudden disaster and other settlements built over it." Dred paused. "The two of us deal mostly with the Midnight War, you know. If we deal with ancient artifacts or weapons, they are likely to be from the Darthan Age which few know about. In comparison to the Darthan Age, Zhune was recent. I myself have never encountered any artifacts or devices from Zhune in all my years."
Bane shifted uncomfortably in the leatherbound chair. His enhanced metabolism made him restless at the best of times. "Somebody wanted those books on Zhune bad enough to kill a guard. I can't figure any way they could have froze him solid like that in just a minute or two, without affecting the rest of the room."
"The Lost Science of the Ancients," Dred said slowly. "Zhune was known and feared for its knowledge. The philosophers and alchemists and physicians of Zhune made remarkable advances for a time when men still used copper blades rather than iron. A few references have survived in speeches from their enemies about the Zhunites using the Cold Flame, the Withering Breath, the Door Between Doors. Most scholars dismiss these references but I have always wondered if there was more truth to them than is realized."
"The Cold Flame? Well, I guess that explains the frozen guard." Bane started to get up to pace but restrained himself with effort. "These Zhune guys were early scientists,then."
"Yes, but in a strange and different way from the science pioneered later by the Greeks.. the science we still use today. It was a dark, demon-haunted world back then and the Zhune thinkers got results that seem incredible by modern standards." Bane stood up. "You must be starving, Jeremy, you skipped breakfast and it's past two. Go in the kitchen and make whatever you want. I'll be trying to refresh my memory about Zhune."
"Thank you, sir." Ravenous as always, the Wolf strode quickly from the room and down the hall. Left behind, Dred smiled at his young protege's enthusiasm. The lad was everything he had hoped for. Searching his memory, Dred went out into the hall, which like most of the building had walls lined with bookshelves. For fifty years, he had been building his library and several collectors and Midnight War scholars had left their own books to him. Now he went down the hall, thinking, then slowly up a flight of stairs. On the second floor, under an oil portrait of a Puritan with a dueling sword in hand, Dred bent and plucked a specific book from its spot. LOST SCIENCE OF THE ANCIENTS by Colonel James Chitwood. He knew he had a copy here somewhere. Beginning to read, he went back down the ground floor and to his desk.
Fifteen minutes passed before Bane returned to the reception room. He had cooked and devoured a four-egg omelet with Parmesan cheese and strips of ham, drank most of a bottle of apple juice and then finished with two bananas. Having his superior reflexes carried a few prices, including a constant appetite and a jumpy disposition. Cleaning the kitchen thoroughly before heading back, the young Dire Wolf felt ready for everything. Seeing Dred behind the desk with an open book, Bane sat and waited.
Soon, the elderly occultist closed the book and seemed to notice his assistant for the first time. "Ah. I have a feeling we may be starting something quite serious, my boy. Chitwood describes how a British expedition in 1868 reported finding a cache of Zhune artifacts in what was then called Mesopotamia. Several excited letters were sent back to the London Museum. Then silence. A detachment of British soldiers was dispatched and found the bodies of the expedition, strangely withered and dessicated. None of the reported Zhunite devices were ever located. The consensus of thought in the archaeological community was that if the expedition had located any trove of weird devices, bandits had taken it and killed all the archaeologists. And that was an end to the matter."
"But...?"
"Indeed. But? Two years ago, I heard rumours of some strange items being offered for auction. There is an international black market for mystic talismans, you know. Some of the items remind me of inventions attributed to Zhune. A collector I know slightly, Sabrina Thurston, wrote me that she had purchased the Revealing Light, but I never went to see it. If someone is interested enough in the lost science of Zhune to murder a guard over three books, I think a person actually possessing a Zhunite artifact might be in great peril."
Bane was already on his feet and by the door. "Just give me the address, Mr Dred, and I'm on my way."
III.
It was a sixteen-story apartment building on upper Park Avenue, with an awning that extended out over the sidewalk so the millionaires would not get their gowns wet if it was raining when they disembarked from their limos. Jeremy Bane regarded it sourly, he didn't think much of rich folks after his early life. On the steps was a stout man in a red and gold uniform, wearing white gloves, regarding the young man in black with suspicion. "Are you expected, sir?"
"Sabrina Thurston. My name is Bane, I'm here on business for Kenneth Dred."
The doorman used a phone set on the wall just outside the twin glass portals with their gold pushbars, spoke softly for a monent and turned back with a much more polite expression on his face. "Very good, sir. Suite 13. The elevators are to your left as you enter." And he held the door open.
"Thanks," Bane replied and headed in. Places like these, with the marble counters and deep wine-red rugs and polished dark wood walls, never felt quite real to him. They seemed phony. But he had grown up in alleys and rundown bars and cheap hotel rooms, so he admitted he had a resentment. He rode up to the thirteenth floor and got out in a foyer the size of an office. There was a couch and some chairs, a telephone on a stand, even fresh flowers in a vase in a niche. A wide mahogany door said GUZMAN TOWERS - SUITE 13, with a white doorbell and he pressed the bell as if it offended him.
Immediately, the door was opened by a good-looking Italian man with a deep smooth tan and curly hair. The guy was wearing a suit but no tie, his collar unbuttoned. "Mr Bane?"
"That's right. And you would be?"
"Thomas, Miss Thurston's personal assistant. Kenneth Dred phoned here not ten minutes ago and Miss Thurston informed me that you would be arriving. Please step in."
Bane was led into what resembled a showroom for some antique store. Glass cabinets displayed dozens of curious objects, while larger items stood on their own pedestals or shelves. It reminded him of the vault in the basement of Dred's building. A row of grotesque wooden masks ran across one wall. There were swords of strange design on racks, many little idols in bronze or stone, broken bits of pottery and slabs of stone with inscriptions, even misshapen skulls of what looked like alligators with horns. One case held an assortment of amulets and rings, another displayed three Asian helmets with fierce scowling features cast on their faceplates.
"Good afternoon," came a woman's voice from behind him. Bane turned as Sabrina Thurston came through a door which she closed behind her. "I was pleased to hear from Kenneth after all this time but also a bit surprised. He sounded worried. And you are his new agent, Jeremy Bane, I take it?"
"That's right." Bane took her in with a single glance. Thurston was in her late sixties, thin, still standing straight and unbent. Her hair had turned completely white, tied in a bun at the back of her head and she had a prominent nose and chin. Her dark pantsuit with white silk blouse was expensive but simple. And she was returning his appraisal with her own.
"You look like a dangerous young man," she said. "Let's cut to the chase. What brings you here?"
"Mr Dred thinks you're in danger because of something you own. A guard at the Public Library was murdered this morning and three restricted books stolen. They were about Zhune. I understand you actually own something from Zhune?"
"And whoever kills to obtains books about Zhune would certainly kill to obtain a Zhune artifact? Yes, I can see that line of reasoning. But we do have security here. If the doorman had not stepped on a button while admitting you, the elevators would not have worked for you. And Thomas here not only has a 9mm semi-automatic on his person, he is a Golden Gloves boxer. I thank you and Kenneth but really-"
Her voice broke off as she saw the wall to her left light up, then turn clear as glass. It was a dumbfounding sight. Suddenly, they could see right through the wall into the hallway outside and two men stepped through into the room with them as if the wall had evaporated. The smaller man wore regular clothes, a flannel shirt and jeans and work boots. He was carrying a large brass lamp with a hose coiled from its base to a glass jug. No one even noticed him, nor the way the wall turned opaque again. The giant who preceded him into the room dominated the scene completely.
"Eldritch!" snapped Thurston. "Karl Eldritch. I never thought you would dare to come back to this country."
"There is little I would not dare," the man rumbled. He was seven inches over six feet tall, broad and muscular in a dark blue suit with vest and black necktie. The wide hard face was lined, and the head closely shaven. Under thick brows glared a pair of light hazel eyes that moved from Thurston to where Bane stood warily watching. "Ah. Kenneth Dred's new helper. Dire Wolf indeed, you seem no more than a pup."
Coming around from behind them, Thomas had his gun in both hands, pointing it firmly at the huge man. "I don't know how you got in here, mister, but you'd better leave the same way."
Eldritch smiled thinly. "Your life is almost over, my friend. I hope you were paid well." He lifted an open hand and a gout of blinding white force rushed out to tear straight through Thomas, almost severing the man's torso. The stench of burning flesh was intolerable.
As Thomas fell, Eldritch turned back to Thurston and Bane. "Lost science indeed! The Zhunites knew the ultimate truth about how the universe works. I need only convert the tiniest part of my body- no more than a few skin cells- into energy and atomic flame is available as much as I desire. Nuclear bombs are crude toys compared to my skill."
"Whatever you want, Karl," gasped Thurston as if she were having trouble catching her breath, "just take it and go."
"Oh, I shall." The mage motioned for his companion to step back out of the way. "There is much here I could put to good use, Sabrina. You have a fine collection. But my goal for now is mastery of the Zhunite secrets. Bring me the Piercing Light and I will depart without harming you."
"Very well. It's worth it, I have no room for false pride under these circumstances." Thurston went over to the cupboard in one corner, reaching in her jacket pocket for keys. In that second that Eldritch was watching her, Bane whipped a 38 Smith & Wesson from its holster behind his left hip and snapped off two shots. Twin sparks of white force flared up over the mage's chest but he was not harmed. Bane lowered the gun slowly.
"You still do not understand," Eldritch smirked. "Have you ever heard of Einstein? E=MC2? No. Energy can be changed to matter and matter into energy if one understands the Great Mystery, as I do. Your bullets were converted to energy which my body absorbed. I am not some common sorcerer you may defeat, child. I am Karl Eldritch!"
The Dire Wolf reluctantly holstered his gun, stymied for the first time. He did not know enough about these matters to tell if Eldritch was being truthful or not. Their eyes locked in a struggle of will, and Bane tried in vain to think of a way to attack this man without being instantly killed.
Coming over to them, Sabrina Thurston was carrying a metal bar as long as her arm, with a round crystal lens at each end, one lens twice the diameter of the other. "The Piercing Light, as you can see."
"So. Hand it over." Eldritch examined it intently for a second and seemed satisfied. "Very well. I bear you no ill will, Sabrina. You will not be harmed." He turned to regard Bane thoughtfully. "Perhaps it would be prudent to simply slay you now, Dire Wolf. You know almost nothing of the Midnight War, you rely on innate speed and tenacity in your battles. Yet I have a feeling someday you will be a threat to even me."
"It's up to you," Bane said. "I promise I will bring you down for these deaths."
"Oh, spare me the delusions of youth." Eldritch raised a hand in a dismissive gesture and a thunderclap of force exploded in that room, echoing from wall to wall, hurling Bane hard against a counter to knock it over in a crash of breaking glass. Turning to his companion, the mage ordered, "Come, Inagra. The Door Between Doors." The man adjusted something on the lamp he was holding, the wall flashed brightly and became clear again. Eldritch and his crony stepped through the translucent barrier, which solidified and became normal again behind them.
On the floor, Bane slowly got to his hands and knees. He was surprised to be alive and wondeed why Eldritch had settled for stunning him with that blast when it would have been just as easy to vaporize him completely. The Dire Wolf picked broken glass from his hand, saw Thurston staring at him and straightened up. As he brushed bits of glass from his clothing, he turned toward where the body of Thomas still sprawled, almost seared in two. "I don't know what kind of story you're going to tell the police," he said. "That's gonna be hard to explain."
"I'll call Kenneth first. He's had experience dealing with situations like this. I'm sure he knows a way to handle this. Poor Thomas! He was just talking about taking a few days to visit his family..."
III.
Just over six hours later, Bane was allowed to leave the scene. Inspector Wollheim and the forensics squad were certainly in no rush to get going, he thought sourly. Kenneth Dred had coached him on how to handle police interrogations, how to respond when the same questions were asked a dozen different ways, what traps to look for in written statements before signing them. Bane was careful with his replies, keeping an even tone in his voice and not volunteering any information that wasn't asked for. Dred had also shown Bane how to use the questioning to find out what the police knew and didn't know, by what they were looking for.
Neither Bane nor Thurston said anything about the wall turning transparent and two men walking right through it. The charred condition of Thomas Crincoli's body was difficult enough for the police to deal with. The conclusion Wollheim reached unofficially was that the killer had gotten hold of some new top secret weapons, probably developed by the military or the CIA. A freezing device and a heat ray of some kind. Just what the world needed, he said.
Sabrina Thurston had identified the killer. He had given his name as Donald Schitzer at the library, but he was actually Dr Karl Eldritch. She had met him in Germany a few years earlier when they were both trying to obtain some ancient talismans. Eldritch had quite a reputation as a shady character, suspected of crimes he was never charged with. There were rumours that people disappeared who crossed him. She had been surprised to see him in America because she had heard that the FBI wanted to talk to him about some robberies.
Finally, Wollheim allowed Bane to leave. The Dire Wolf didn't hide his sullen disposition as he took the elevator down to the lobby. Before leaving the building, he went into one of the elegant phone booths with wooden doors which closed completely and called Kenneth Dred to report, saying he would be back at the 38th Street building in a few minutes. Back out on the street, it was getting dark. Annoyed at all the time wasted by the cops repeating themselves a dozen times, Bane hurried south. He stopped at a vendor to buy two hot dogs and a hot pretzel and devoured them before he got to the next block. Before he reached 38th Street, though, he managed enough self-awareness to realize he was mad mostly at himself for not being able to stop this Eldritch character.
Bullets had been useless. He had the two silver daggers up his sleeves and he had the enhanced speed that had always been his greatest advantage, but he had no seen a way to use them successfully against Eldritch. Next time will be different, he promised himself. There's always a way. He turned on Lexington and saw the two lights in their cast iron holders had been turned on over the door. Bane unlocked the door, entered the hall and saw light coming from the open door of the dining room. Three times a week, Dred had two housekeepers come in to prepare huge meals which ensured leftovers for the following days, to catch up on laundry and do some light cleaning. Tonight was one of those nights.
His stomach growled audibly as he caught the scent of roast turkey. The dining room was mostly taken up by a long dark wood table with six chairs around it. There were sideboards holding cold cuts and desserts and appetizers, and a small wine rack. As Bane entered, he saw the table held a medium-sized turkey with the usually trimmings... stuffing, sweet potatoes, corn and green beans, hot buttered rolls. The Dire Wolf restrained himself from simply grabbing handfuls of the food and calmly said, "Evening, sir."
Seated at the head of the table, Dred half rose and motioned for Bane to seat himself on the left. A guest was already sitting by Dred's right side. "Dig right in, Jeremy," said the old scholar. "After you called, I had Mr and Mrs Katchurian lay out the meal before they left. We'll have to clean up, but that's not a problem."
Bane piled his plate high, filled a tumbler with ice water and got to work. His metabolism burned calories mercilessly. After a few bites, he glanced over at the man seated next to Dred and nodded.
"Jeremy, this is Garrison Nebel. I've known him for quite a few years now. I invited him over tonight to get his thoughts on the current problem. Good of you to come at such short notice, Garrison."
"Oh, I've enjoyed the Katchurians' cooking and that swayed me," Nebel said with a grin. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, a slim man with light brown hair and a long narrow face. Nebel wore slacks and a white dress shirt with the cuffs rolled back. He finished chewing and put down his fork. "Glad to meet you, Jeremy. I don't know if you realize what a stir you've caused in the Midnight War."
"I have?"
"Oh yes. You've been working for Kenneth here only since last September and you've tackled some very dangerous opponents in close succession. You're actually a bit of a celebrity in the Midnight War now."
"Huh," Bane said as he ripped a hot roll in half and shoved it in his mouth. "I'm just Mr Dred's agent."
"And," Nebel continued, "Kenneth tells me just today you crossed paths with Karl Eldritch. He's a major problem wherever he turns up."
"What's his story? How can I handle him?"
"Well. Eldritch was a sorcerer like many others in the Midnight War. He developed the ability to focus gralic power and he got hold of a few Darthan talismans. That was bad enough. But a few years ago, he developed an obsession with Zhune. It started with one book he came across, then he began reading everything he could find on the topic. Eldritch managed to locate a cache of devices from Zhune that had been lost for almost a century, he experimented with them and figured out how to make them function. He solved what Zhunites called the Great Mystery."
As Nebel paused to eat, Bane did the same. He had already cleaned his plate and he put a few more slices of turkey together with cranberry sauce. Kenneth Dred watched with a fond smile, not eating much himself.
A few minutes later, Nebel continued. "This is excellent, Kenneth. I wish I could afford to have the Katchurians come cook dinner at my house. Anyway. Eldritch dropped gralic sorcery to concentrate on Lost Science. He has at least a dozen devices from Zhune that do amazing things. You saw one of them today, the Door Between Doors. The consensus is that the Door Between Doors somehow aligns spaces between molecules so that one object can pass freely through another. Eldritch and his helper used the device to walk through a solid wall."
"Then Miss Thurston handed him something called the Piercing Light. It was a thing with a lense at each end," Bane said.
"The Piercing Light. Yes. I believe that's a sort of X-Ray gadget. One reference says that the Zhunite wise men could see inside fortresses and vaults with the Piercing Light, even look into a living person and watch the heart beating. Eldritch has the Cold Flame as well, judging from what happened to that poor guard." Nebel put down his fork and knife, wiped his mouth with a napkin. "God only knows how many other Zhunite inventions he has collected."
Bane was done with his meal as well, and he began taking the plates across the hall to the kitchen. His job was to act as investigator, bodyguard and courier but he helped out in the building automatically. As he went to pick up what was left of the turkey, Dred said, "Oh, please leave that, Jeremy. I want to wrap it and sort the leftovers out myself."
Sitting back down, the Dire Wolf looked over at Nebel. "What was Eldritch going on about, matter into energy and energy into matter?"
"That's what the Zhunites called the Great Mystery. They had a sort of atomic theory a thousand years before the Greeks, although they visualized it differently. You know how a nuclear bomb works. It converts a tiny bit of matter into a huge amount of energy. The Zhunites found a way to work the process both ways. When Eldritch killed Sabrina's assistant, he was taking a tiny bit of his own body and releasing it as atomic flame... hotter than the surface of the sun."
"And the way he sucked up two bullets?" Bane asked.
"He converted the bullets into light and soaked it into his skin." Nebel shook his head. "Eldritch is a terrible threat. I don't see how he can be beaten. Maybe if taken offguard, he could be killed but he is always wary."
The young Dire Wolf finished a tumbler of ice water and put it down. "We can't just take the easy fights."
IV.
Garrison Nebel said, "Kenneth, let me look through your library tonight. Don't you have a copy of Hiroshi's MYSTERIES OF THE AGES? He had sketches of some Zhunite devices. I remember something called the Ultimate Nullifier..."
"Certainly, feel free. There are guest rooms on the third floor all made up if you decide to stay." Dred got to his feet, a bit stiffly. "I myself have many loose notes I should go through. Everything in the universe has a weakness, everything can be stopped if we just see the way."
Bane stood with folded arms, scowling. "Listen. Aside from this Zhune business, what else would this Eldritch be up to while he's in town? Does he go drinking in night clubs? Visit call girls? Where would I find him at night?"
"Karl Eldritch..." Nebel said. "He's disciplined and single-minded. He does enjoy classical music, but I don't think there's anything right now that would appeal to him. Let me think. I can see him touring art galleries and museums."
"The Museum of Natural History? The Metropolitan Museum of Art?"
"No, I don't think so. He is in this country illegally, and he certainly wants to keep a low profile especially with his being tied to two murders."
Bane was getting annoyed. "The cops will be asking at every hotel if someone of his description is registered there. They'll be at every place you can rent a car. We can't match their manpower, we have to beat them in a different way. Who does he know in New York? Any friends he'd visit?"
Now Kenneth Dred sat up straighter and raised an eyebrow. "Not friends exactly, but he used to be allied with Red Sect. For a while, it seemed he was about to take leadership of the group. I can see him staying with the Lundborgs to keep out of sight."
"Red Sect! Those guys.." Bane said. "I'm going to check it out. Mr Dred, I'll take the car and call here after I make contact." He started for the hall, but paused as Dred warned, "We don't have a plan. We have no suggestion how you can deal with the power Eldritch wields."
The Dire Wolf allowed the faintest of smiles across his deadpan face. "I always think of something, sir." He left the room and went into the walk-in closet by the front door, through a sliding panel and down steep concrete steps. Bane hurried along a narrow walkway between storage rooms and opened the plain door to the underground garage. Here sat Kenneth Dred's dark blue Buick Regal, waxed and polished and gassed up, always ready to go. Bane started the big car and rolled up the ramp, making a sharp turn as a sliding steel panel automatically raised and then lowered behind him. He turned onto the Lexington Avenue and was out in the night. Now he felt alive. He was a creature of the night himself in many ways. Bane headed north.
Leaving the city itself, he cruised up to White Plains, stopping to top off the gas tank. By now, it late at night, with almost no traffic, as he drove into Schuylerville. On the outskirts of the town, next to a veterinary hospital, was a steep hill on which sat a big and rather garish Victorian mansion. Bane drove past it, pulled over and parked on a side road, then hopped out of the car. In his black suit, he was a barely visible blur in the night as he trotted through a wooded area and crept onto the estate of the Lundborg family.
As he crept along the waist-high stone wall that encircled the property, the Dire Wolf smiled at the way Nebel had described Eldritch as disciplined and restrained, concerned with classical music and art galleries. Well, not hardly. As a young man, Eldritch had met the Lundborg brothers in Europe and they had founded Red Sect. Using gralic magick for down-to-earth goals such as crushing business rivals, living in luxury and throwing week-long drunken orgies, Red Sect had been a success for decades. Bane expected Eldritch had not changed much. If he was here in America illegally, the Lundborg estate would be the logical place to take cover. Bane hopped over the wall and moved from tree to tree, heading for the back of the mansion. There was a guard, right in the obvious place.
Unseen in the darkness, moving low with fingertips almost touching the ground, the Dire Wolf darted forward and leaped up to crack the edge of his stiff open hand to the base of the guard's neck. It was a killing blow. He caught the body before it fell and hauled it into the bushes. That was one thing he liked about occult sects, he thought.. they did not have the practical sense of setting up security that common mobsters did. Breaking into gang property would be riskier than sneaking onto the Lundborg estate because the warlocks were more concerned with other sorcerors than with someone who had no gralic powers. Like himself.
Bane stepped closer toward the rear of the mansion. Here was a gravel area with a driveway leading around to the road, and four cars parked in a line. Pretty nice cars, he thought. One was an El Dorado. The Dire Wolf froze next to a tree and waited. He expected one more guard and, sure enough, here came a big guy in black trousers and a white dress shirt. There was too much open space for Bane to rush him successfully. The guard was holding a small 9mm semi-automatic pistol in one hand, but he stuck it in his belt and dug for a cigarette. As he placed the filter end in his mouth, a slim throwing dagger suddenly thumped home in the middle of his chest. The guard wheezed and fell straight down to the gravel.
Bending over the body, Bane dragged it out of sight behind a shed which held a lawn mower in its open doorway. He retrieved the silver dagger and cleaned it carefully before sheathing it again under his sleeve. He had always had some skill at knife throwing but in the months he had been working for Kenneth Dred, he had developed real proficiency with these matched daggers. They were so well balanced, just right for the size of his hands and his throwing style. The Dire Wolf straightened up again, glared around in the gloom and stepped up to the rear door of the Lundborg mansion. It was unlocked and he went in.
The next ten minutes went by with agonizing tension as Bane stole through darkened hallways. Every time he placed a foot down, it was carefully chosen not to make a floorboard creak, every time he peered into a doorway, it was with his breath held and a hand on the hilt of a silver dagger. Ahead, faint music was playing and he grudgingly made his way toward it. At the foot of the stairs going to the second floor, he crept around and looked into the main room. There was no furniture, big throw pillows were piled on the floor. Twenty naked bodies sprawled in complete exhaustion, arms and legs flung over each other. Empty bottles and three hookahs were visible, the smell of sweat and opium and wine was heavy in the air. In the center of the pile, arms around two blondes who really did not look to be of legal age, was the great obscene bulk of Karl Eldritch. The man was snoring contentedly. In one corner, a fat old man turned over with a sigh and went back to sleep.
Disgusting, thought Bane, but at least they were not sitting there waiting for him to arrive. He began searching the house again. One door was partly ajar, light coming from behind him, and he sensed movement. The Dire Wolf got closer, listening as he slowed his own breathing. He heard a man clear his throat on the other side. Drawing a dagger with his left hand, he flung the door open with his right and lunged in. In the tiny fraction of a second that the beefy guard glanced up in surprise, a silver blade slid into his heart. With his other hand, Bane had clapped the man's mouth shut and he lowered the body to the floor, then closed the door and looked around.
This was a cloakroom, with coats hanging on pegs and boots lined up on mats. Shelves on the wall had been cleared to make room for a half dozen bizarre items. There was the steel rod with a lense on each end, that Thurston had handed to Eldritch. The Piercing Light. And there was the lamp with a cord going into a tank, the Door Between Doors. One device looked like a bellows with a long nozzle, another resembled a crossbow but with a shiny disc instead of a string. All the relics were rather small, easily held in one hand. Bane jumped into life. Now was the time for quick action. He looked around, opened a deacon's bench and took out a brown tarp. Not taking the greatest care with the ancient artifacts, he wrapped them in the tarp and tied the ends to make a bundle.
Eldritch was a fool not to have kept these locked deep in a cellar or somewhere, he thought. But the guy probably wanted to show off his treasures to his colleagues in Red Sect. Boasting had been the downfall of shrewder men than he was. Bane got out in the hall and moved as stealthily as before to the rear of the house. As he went out the back door, he heard a woman from the party room groggily complain, "Not AGAIN," and then he was racing through the dark yard, over the stone fence and onto the side road. He dumped the tarp into the trunk of Dred's Buick, then fired the big car up and tore off into the darkness.
V.
In the middle of the night, Jeremy Bane drove down the concrete ramp into the small garage beneath Dred's building. He parked the Buick with a feeling of relief, then got the tarp from the trunk and hauled it upstairs. Once he had put a few miles between him and the Lundborg estate, he had pulled into a gas station and called here to fill Dred in, so he was not surprised to find both Dred and Nebel wide awake in the reception room waiting for him. A coffee pot was plugged in on a sidetable, and the aroma was strong.
The top of the desk had been cleared off, and as Bane lowered the tarp to the rug, all three men began placing the Zhunite artifacts carefully on the desk. "Amazing," said Nebel, "It's hard to believe these devices are more than four thousand years old. What do you think they're made of, Kenneth? Surely it can't be stainless steel?"
"I don't see how that would be possible. Not a sign of rust or corrosion." Dred began arranging the artifacts in a row. "This certainly is the Piercing Light. And this, the Door Between Doors. From the description in Chitwood's book, this bellows produces the Cold Flame. But here is not the place to experiment with these, my friends. Later, outside, preferably with a great deal of open space is where we can find out what these inventions actually do."
Nebel's voice had its first spark of excitement as he examined the crossbow-like device. "The Ultimate Nullifier. This I recognize from Chitwood's book. It's a safety feature. The Nullifier neutralizes the power source of the other devices in case they were to fall into the wrong hands."
Standing well back with arms folded, Bane asked, "Just what do these things use for power anyway? They couldn't have had wall outlets way back then!"
"Heh. No, indeed. These devices each have a sort of battery in them, a dry cell which was charged by a jolt of the atomic energy the Zhunites knew how to release." Dred glanced over at where the young Dire Wolf stood. "What you saw Karl Eldritch kill that poor young man with, only much better controlled. Without the knowledge of conversion of matter into energy, I doubt if any of these machines could ever be made to function."
Bane carefully picked up the device which resembled a crossbow with a copper disc where its bowstring would be. The Nullifier felt warm to the touch, with a slight vibration he could just perceive. "I'll tell you what, these gizmos are charged up right now. I bet Eldritch keeps them ready for use."
"We haven't mentioned it," Nebel said, "but how long do we have before Eldritch realizes his treasures have been filched? And before he comes here looking for them?"
"Hard to say." Bane kept the Ultimate Nullifier in hand, studying its obvious trigger mechanism. "Between the drugs and the wine and the orgy, you'd think he'd be asleep until noon. But I wouldn't count on it with a guy like him."
Standing by a window looking out on 38th Street, Kenneth Dred said, "You'd be right. He must have roused himself almost as soon as you left, Jeremy. Here he is now."
Standing behind his mentor, the Dire Wolf spotting a black Lincoln coming to a halt in front of their building. From behind the wheel, a huge man in dark slacks and white shirt loomed suddenly up and swung furious eyes at the front door of the building. He slammed the car door shut and strode angrily up to the sidewalk.
V.
Bane said, "Maybe you two should get downstairs? This is my job."
Neither Dred nor Nebel responded. The Dire Wolf felt a little chagrin having suggested it, but it seemed to him that he was paid to do the fighting. He stepped out into the hall just as intolerable white light shone through the inner door. The locks and doorknob vaporized, leaving a clean circular hole and Eldritch kicked the door open to step inside. Behind him, the outer door hung open with a similar hole burned right through it.
"All right, we're going to send you the bill for those," Bane said calmly.
"Be still!" came the deep voice. In the subdued lighting of the hall, the shaven head gleamed and the hazel eyes stood out sharply. "Your life is forfeit already. But return my property and I will let Kenneth Dred live what years are left to him."
"YOUR property?" asked Dred from the door to the reception room. "What you killed at least two men to steal."
Eldritch held out a huge meaty head, palm up. "I will not debate. This young fool must disappear completely as atomic fire breaks his very being apart. But you, Kenneth, I have some respect for you. I found your books well-written and lucid. If I can spare you, I will. Either way, the Zhunite relics leave with me this morning."
"Says you," snorted Bane. He had been standing slightly sideways, with his left side away from the sorcerer. Now he swung up the Zhunite device that resembled a crossbow and squeezed what he hoped must be the trigger. The relic bucked in his hands and a loud clunking noise echoed as a burst of white light rushed from the disc to envelop Eldritch. The sorceror cried out and fell back, knocking over the coatrack as he was slammed against the wall.
"Sure hope this works," the Dire Wolf muttered as he watched Eldritch groggily get to his feet. With a curse, the sorcerer thrust out his open hand and nothing happened. He tried again. The expression of dismay on his face was almost comical. He stared down in disbelief at his hands. "The Ultimate Nullifier... but how did you know?"
Bane placed the device on top of a shelf and knotted his fists. "You know, seeing as how you don't have your atomic blasts anymore, it's a good chance to rough you up a little. I bet it's been a long time since anyone stood up to you!" He took a step forward.
"Imbecile! I will break you like a wishbone. I am twice your size."
"The dinosaurs were big, too," Bane laughed, "and look where they are today."
Nebel unexpectedly stepped up next to the Dire Wolf and threw a lever on the bellows device. A high-pressure stream of frigid air gushed out and poured over the still groggy Eldritch, covering him with a thin coating of frost. Taken by surprise, the sorcerer fell headlong to the floor again and this time he did not rise.
"Hey!" yelled Bane angrily. "I wanted to punch his face in!"
"Sorry," Nebel replied. "It's not that I wouldn't enjoy watching you beat the tar out of him. But you'd wreck Kenneth's hall in the process. As it is, he'll have to replace those doors." He lowered the Cold Flame device. "You know, I think this boy is still moving."
Kenneth Dred slowly crouched over the icy form and saw an arm twitch. "He's breathing, but just barely. Maybe you did not give him a full dose of the Cold Flame, Garrison."
"Or maybe he's just a big tough gorilla," Nebel said. "That guy must be six feet six or better. He filled your doorway when he was standing in it."
"Time to call the cops?" asked Bane.
"No. Not the police, Jeremy." Dred rose rather stiffly, at seventy-eight he was fighting arthritis more and more. "They'd put him in a holding cell and he'd break out within twenty-four hours. We don't know how long until his power returns." The old man sighed. "As much as I hate dealing with Department 21 Black, I guess we have to turn Eldritch over to them. They specialize in Midnight War prisoners and I believe Eldritch is wanted for many crimes across Europe. These last two murders would be impossible to prove in court."
"If you say so, sir." The Dire Wolf could not keep disappointment from his voice.
"I'll call the local FBI office," said Dred. "They should have some 21 Black agents here in ten or fifteen minutes, judging by past clashes with them. Jeremy, would you wrap these Zhunite relics and secure them in the vault. The last thing we want is 21 Black getting hold of them."
"Sure thing," Bane said, taking the Nullifier and the Cold Flame into the reception room. As he wrapped all the ancient artifacts, he was still sullen about the way the confrontation had ended.
Out in the hall, Nebel asked almost in a whisper, "Could Jeremy really have taken this brute in a hand to hand fight?"
"Absolutely," Dred answered with a smile. "I think you saved Eldritch's life by intervening."
4/25/2014
