"The Night Gorillas of Danarak"
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dochermesThe Night Gorillas of Danarak
(original "Gorilla Warfare")
7/19/- 7/20/1986
I.
Bane had been well trained. He read the expression in his enemies' eyes, saw the degree of tautness in the muscles of their leader's forearm as his fist closed tight on the imported revolver. The three hulking warriors disguised in drab business suits were members of the Night Gorillas, a killing sect feared through half of Africa. To Bane, they were just three targets.
The biggest warrior's throat muscles moved and he took in a breath. He was going to say, "Now!" in Sawhili or English, and then all three would fire. Bane did not wait. In a split-second blur of motion, he had closed the distance between himself and the killers. His left backfist snapped out like lightning, dislocating the leaders jaw before he could even give the command. In the same move, his body pivotted sideways and his boot drove deep into the next killer's stomach. All this happened before the third fully realized something unexpected was going on. That final Night Gorilla had a fragmentary glimpse of chill grey eyes and the knuckles of a fist whistling straight at him.
Jeremy Bane stood over the three moaning men and kicked the gun away from their hands down the hall. He thought, I wonder how many teeth I've loosened in the past nine years. Swamps, deserts, alleys, glacial caverns, aboard ships and now, here in a swank hotel corridor in Honjabi. He wondered if there was a record for that sort of thing and if, before he was done, he would pass it.
The Dire Wolf's thoughts caught short as he heard the faintest of sounds. Cloth rubbing against cloth, shoe leather on carpeted floor. He spun in a crouch, the dart gun appearing in his hand quicker than an untrained eye could follow. Three more men were standing at the foot of the stairs which led up from this ground floor. It was too far for him to read their reactions. But one was bracing the wrist of his gun hand across his other forearm.
Bane decided to take a chance. The Trom-metal armor under his field suit would protect him from anything except a hit to the head, and those were unlikely against his speed. He called out without forcing menace into his voice, "Who sent you?"
The lead gunman seemed seemed hesitant, whether because the odd-looking dart gun was pointed unwaveringly at him or because he had just seen this stranger take down three of the dreaded Night Gorillas in less than three seconds. In any case, he shouted in English, "Are you the American?"
"I'm AN American, there's more than one. Now, again, who sent you?"
All three spread out, the leader's gun slowly raising. "We have only death to give you."
"That's too bad," said Bane with remarkable calmness. "What I want are answers."
"Don't worry!" boomed a deep voice from the stairs behind the killers. "I'LL get you answers!"
The Night Gorillas had barely begun to react to that voice when a huge dark figure hurtled down the staircase to dive right on top of them. Like a lion on its prey, the stranger sent all three tumbling to the floor. One had taken a knee in the small of the back and would not rise. The newcomer was a big man, five inches over six feet tall, powerfully built. He was African too, wearing a tight bodysuit of black cotton. One of the men scrambled to his feet and looked back to scream, "Kwali! Kwali Cat's-Claw." The scream was cut off as Kwali yanked the man up by one arm and threw him with backbreaking force against the wall.
A third Night Gorilla had managed to get his pistol raised when a big black fist exploded into his face like a hammer, smashing his nose and flinging him down, gun clattering away. The Cat's-Claw swung around, taking in his scene. He saw Bane holstering the dart gun.
"Jeremy? I did not expect to see you so soon." Kwali straightened. His face was square, massive, not so much handsome as impressive, like an ancient statue. His skin was so dark as to be almost opaque in the dim hotel light but his eyes were oddly light green and lambent, He spoke with a faint accent.
"I came in a Corby as soon as your message arrived at KDF headquarters," said the Dire Wolf. He had unfastened his helmet and now tucked it under one arm. "You're some fighter, Kwali. If you ever change your mind about joing our team..."
The African smiled and gazed down at the shorter man. "I am tempted, Dire Wolf. To have Tel Shai training would be a great advantange. But Danarak is my homeland and my duties are mostly here. Still, if you need me, you have but to call. I remember our battles with the Snake men and in Bruenig's cemetery with pride and excitement."
"Fair enough." The Dire Wolf gestured with his thumb at the seven stunned or unconscious men scattered around the hotel floor. "So, who are these guys?"
Kwali's face tightened. "The Cult of the Night Gorillas. Very old, very evil. I've been trying to stamp them out for a year now, but there is deep money supporting them. Two turn up for each I knock down. There is little point in turning them over the police, I have stopped trying. Whatever ridiculous bail is set, Kamende will pay."
"Kamende? AREM Kamende?"
"Yes."
"Finally," Bane said. "Arem Kamende, the Spear of Destiny. He's surfaced at last."
"Jeremy, I believe the Night Gorillas have become the assassin arm of Kamende's organization. The Black Fury has his hands in many sins." He looked up as faces started appearing behind barely opened doors. "Hah! Now they dare to show themselves. Come, let us go. Obviously the enemy knows I have rented a room here."
Bane went to the foot of the stairs as Kwali retrieved a bundle of clothing. He draped himself in a plain beige-colored robe that hung to his shins, and slung a leather pouch over one shoulder. The Cat's-Claw slid his feet into rope sandals and started moving. "Tell me, what do you know of Danarak?"
"Not much. I've never been here before. Danarak exists on two levels. There is the real nation which lies here in Africa, but there is also the adjacent realm it's named after. The Danarak of the Midnight War. The main thing I remember is about the Corruption on Ulgor. A warlock from Danarak learned forbidden secrets from the Sulla Chun. Gralic projection, muscular tension and shape-shifting. His name was Wakimbe."
"Just so," said Kwali as he led the way through the lobby to the street. It was getting near dusk, and not as hot as Bane had expected as a stiff wind was blowing. Honjabi had interesting architecture, low stone buildings with arched doorways and shuttered windows. Many of the outer walls were painted in startling combinations of yellow and green. They walked past a bazaar that was winding down, with many of the stalls being closed up.
The Dire Wolf was not the only white man in sight by any means. Several Europeans hurried past with brief cases, a redheaded taxi driver rattled past and there were even two Japanese businessmen arguing in a doorway. The Danarakans themselves were very dark, rather thin and just of average height. They mostly wore Western clothes, T-shirts and trousers and sneakers.
Kwali went on, "Today, of course, much of that knowledge has been forgotten. Gralic projection survives only in a limited form as voodoo. Muscular tension is the basis of Kumundu and other martial arts. And controlled shape-shifting is mastered by a mere handful."
"You're in that handful," Bane interrupted. "I still remember you as that giant Black Lion I fought three years ago. That was no illusion. You actually turned into a cat the size of a horse."
"We were well matched the night we fought, you and I. The struggle could have gone either way. And yet..."
They were near the edge of the town, where a dirt road led out to a dry field. A row of workers' huts stretched off for the next half-mile. Bane stopped and turned to the African hero. "Something bothering you?'
"When we fought in New York, I knew that I was the stronger of we two, and you were the swifter. Yet we were balanced. But a minute ago, when you struck those men, I could hardly follow your movements. You have gotten much better in just a few years, Dire Wolf."
Bane smiled slightly. "Thanks."
"It is no idle flattery. Not only do you move more quickly in combat, but your bearing has changed. You're confident. Calm. Something has changed you."
In the growing gloom, Bane's grey eyes gleamed. "I'm still me. But I have been studying at Tel Shai. Does that explain it?"
"Tel Shai... Yes, I see." Kwali resumed walking.
"Let's get back to Kamende," Bane said. "You know he has taken over the Night Gorillas cult?"
"Yes. He is the spider, weaving his webs, planning and sending out his killers. They have a reign of terror in this city and the villages around it, demanding tribute. It is not just the strong arms of the Gorillas that strike fear, it is the knowledge that behind them is a warlock of dread power." Kwali spat into the dust. "I have not been intimidated. I will always fight them."
Bane said quietly, "Here come some now." He raised his helmet to his head.
Ten huge men came from the fields on either side, blocking the dirt road. None carried weapons. Tthey flexed powerful hands long exercised in strangling arts. Bane and Kwali stood shoulder to shoulder as the assassins drew closer.
Kwali growled deep in his throat and seemed ready to transform, but Bane placed a restraining hand on his arm. "Let me do my share."
Stepping right up to the closest Night Gorilla, the Dire Wolf said, "How about you take us to your leader and save some time?"
"We want the life of Kwali Cat's-Claw!" shouted the leader. "This is not your fight, white man."
"It's been my fight for years," Bane said. "I make it mine." With those words, he abruptly turned into an eye-defying blur of deadly motion. He took one quick hop forward like a fencer and dropped the nearest Night Gorilla with a high side kick to the jaw that spun the man completely around. It seemed as though the crack of boot hitting chin came from nowhere. The Night Gorilla fell face down in the dust.
And Bane said, "One."
The stranglers came rushing at him from all directions. Bane met one with a ride side kick to the lower stomach -"Two!" -, smacked another across the face with a roundhouse and backhand from the same fist -"Three!- and pummeled another coming directly at him with a flurry of alternating left-right hooks - "Four!"
Still the killers lunged at him. The Dire Wolf broke a jaw with a reverse crescent kick- "Five!", spun into a tight circle to smash a Gorilla sideways to the ground with a reverse crescent kick -"Six!" and grabbed the backs of two more heads to crash them together with a noise like two coconuts being broken- "Seven and eight!"
These were not barroom brawlers or cheap hired thugs but Night Gorillas, feared with good reason across half a continent. They were taken as children, often sold by impoverished families, and raised in training camps out in the wilderness. Each had to strangle a grown man before being initiated. They had been brought up without pity or fear, living for their trade. And yet, against the speed and accuracy of a knight of Tel Shai, they were helpless. With only two stranglers left, Bane decided to take one for questioning. He waited until the charging man was within arm's reach and then jumped straight up. In the second before he touched down again, he had struck twice. A left front kick to the solar plexus doubled the man up and a front snap kick with the right leg straightened the African back upright, to fall over backwards.
"Nine," said the Dire Wolf, swiveling toward the final remaining strangler. This man had just seen nine of his fellows mowed down by this strange white man with metal-gray eyes, but no fear touched him. Death before failure was the code he lived by. With a hoarse bellow, he leaped straight forward. Bane deftly side-stepped, kicking down at the back of the Night Gorilla's knee. The man dropped and Bane pounced with an open hand strike to the stranger's nape that sounded like an axe biting into wood. The Night Gorilla sagged to his hands and knees but could not rise.
"Ten," Bane said quietly, to himself. He looked up to see Kwali giving him a critical gaze.
"Showing off for my benefit, eh?" the African hero said.
"I guess I was," Bane admitted sheepishly. "I'm still trying to sell you on Tel Shai membership." He bent the Night Gorilla's arm up high behind the back and hauled the man to his feet."Time for some interrogation."
Kwali stepped over a groaning man. He reflected the cult was taking a beating tonight that would not do their mystique any good. "These are fanatics, American. He will not talk. The police have been several to death with no results."
"I wasn't thinking of torture," Bane said. "I have our own truth serum, veratilin, with us. Add some hypnosis and body reading, and we should find out whatever this loser knows. Before dawn, Kwali, I think we will have our showdown with Arem Kamende."
II.
At twenty minutes to midnight, two dark figures trotted through the high grass. There was only jungle in a strip at the southern end of Danarak, it was mostly savannah edged on desert to the north. Kwali wore his black stalking suit and carried no weapons other than his talisman. Bane was in his field suit, a semi-military looking tunic and pants and boots, with pouches and slits filled with tools and weapons. He kept pace with the Cat's-Claw in a smooth pace that would eat up distance without wearing them down. A half-mile behind them, the stealth helicopter CORBY stood beneath a solitary tree, concealed beneath a camoflauge tarp. Bane had flown them as close as they thought prudent.
"How do you know Arem Kamende?" Kwali asked as they made their way.
"I trained with him," the Dire Wolf said angrily. "He was a student at Tel Shai before I was, with much knowledge and skill. He was thought to be a fine man. But something went wrong. HE went wrong."
"Yes? Tell me all of it."
"Okay, there's a difference between what Kamende says and what he really believes. He's a schemer. He claims that Danarak needs to return to its former glory. It has been independent for twenty years but he wants to throw out all European investors and companies. He wants to make war on the neighboring nations and double in size. And he says it is all to make the nation the glorious empire it once was."
Kwali slowed almost perceptibly. "There is something to that. Danarak was a proud land before the age of imperialism. Much was lost, we suffered greatly. I can see how many of my countrymen would follow a leader who promised to restore us."
"There's the problem. Kamende has always been a liar. He will loot Danarak and move on. He was thrown out of our Order in disgrace, taking with him knowledge of gralic sorcery, of Kumundu fighting, of forbidden knowledge. He's what I hate most - a traitor and a renegade!"
"Several local politicians have been murdered by the Night Gorillas," Kwali said. "I know Kamende is setting up his own men in the vacant offices."
Bane held up a hand. "That talisman you wear?"
"Cat's-Claw? What of it?" He touched it as it hung under his outfit on a leather cord. The claw was seven inches long, ivory-colored and viciously pointed.
"It is from the Corruption, you know." They had come to a halt.
"Of course! I know that. When the Sulla Chun gave forbidden knowledge and the Midnight War truly began. The claw I wear is a
holy relic of Wakimbe himself. Without it, I am a warrior of the Bakwanga but not the Black Lion."
"That talisman is dangerous," Bane said coldly. "It is potent like everything from the Corruption and it has a lawless side. I can't give you evidence, Kwali, but I suspect the talisman is tainted. I have a bad feeling about it."
Kwali raised a finger in warning. "I will not hear such words. The Claw Of Wakimbe is sacred and has guarded our people since the first dawn. Do not malign it." With that, he took off at a brisker pace and The Dire Wolf followed in silence. They ran for the next hour as low foothills started to rise under the faint crescent moon. A stream flowed away from the hills and they raced alongside it. Finally, the sound of drumming and chanting could be heard. Kwali started to circle to the left, into the more numerous trees and undergrowth. Bane found it hard to keep up without making noise.
Standing beneath a tree, leaning on a staff with one knee drawn up,was a sentry. Bane reached to unsnap the holster of his dart gun but Kwali was already stalking him. Bane wondered for an instant if something was suddenly wrong with his own hearing. He could see the Cat's-Claw moving through the bushes but heard nothing despite his trying. The giant African warrior came up behind the Night Gorilla, clamped a hand over the man's lower face and twisted. The sound of a neck breaking was hardly audible. Kwali lowered the corpse to the grass and motioned Bane to follow.
In a tramped-down clearing under the moon, Night Gorillas danced in a frenzy around a roaring bonfire.
There were thirty of them, muscular ebony-skinned men leaping and twirling in a circle. Each wore a loincloth and metal bands on their biceps. They laughed and chanted and bellowed in joy. Nearby was a carved wooden throne taller than a standing man, covered with furs and crowned with a gold disc that glowed in the firelight. Chained on either side were two shaggy hulks sitting on the dirt-- actual gorillas, Bane realized with a start, those are real gorillas there. No, wait. They were stuffed. Nice way to treat your totem, he thought, but what can you expect from that guy? On the throne, dominating the scene, sat a fierce figure of a man.
Arem Kamende.
The Spear of Destiny was six feet tall and weighed two hundred pounds, all sculptured muscle without any fat. He wore a long red apron from a leather belt, with a white sash across his chest. Kamende's skin was jet-black, taut over his massive body. His head was clean-shaven, with a high forehead over a square, stern face. Dark eyes under thick brows burned with a brooding charismatic force that Bane felt twenty yards away. He saw a vague resemblance to Kwali, but then both men were from the Bakwanga tribe.
Bane stiffened as Kwali whispered in his ear. "Let us drawn them into the trees where we may slay them at will."
"No," replied the Dire Wolf. "I have to confront Kamende directly. He's from my Order, he's my responsibility. You stand by as a back-up."
The Cat's-Claw growled, "Do not order me! I am not your servant, Jeremy." The green eyes flared in the firelight.
Bane nodded in the gloom. "If I am killed, you can just carry out your own plan anyway. Right?"
As Kwali drew back with a surly noise, the Dire Wolf shrugged out into the clearing, walking with a firm unhurried step.
A sentry saw him and shouted the alarm. As Bane drew near, five of the stranglers were running for him, laughing with bloodlust. Bane did not draw his weapon or change his pace. The first Night Gorilla leaped at the smaller stranger in a flying tackle. Bane neatly swayed to one side, the back of his fist smacking against the man's head with a sharp thump. Two Gorillas came at him at the same time from either side. The Wolf dropped one with a roundhouse kick to the face, then shifted his weight and caught the other with a reverse kick from the same leg. These were not half-hearted moves. Each blow landed with killing impact. One of the killers was the biggest of the lot, with huge arms and broad shoulders, and he drew back his fist for a roundhouse. Before he could throw it, Bane had jumped inside and cracked the man's jawbone with the heel of his hand. The fifth attacker hesitated and then plunged forward, right into a left hook that spun him around with a spray of blood from his mouth.
The rest of the cult had drawn back, forming a semi-circle around the throne of their leader. Bane continued at the same even pace and stopped before the feet of the man he hated most. "Arem Kamende!"
"Do I know you?" asked the warlock mockingly. "Oh, yes. Bane, wasn't it? What brings you to Danarak? Not our nightlife, I fear."
"My duty. In the name of the Order of Tel Shai, I tell you to give up your bid for power here."
"I cannot do that," Kamende smirked. "It is not choice, but destiny."
"Men make their own destiny. I want the cult of Night Gorillas disbanded and your return to the Teachers for judgement."
Now the warlock chuckled. "You are as arrogant as ever, younger brother. You always thought too highly of yourself."
"I am giving you a choice you don't deserve," Bane said.
"Kill him," said Kamende in the same tone of voice.
The ring of stranglers stirred, perhaps less than to be the first to charge this stranger. Where he stood, Bane drew and fired in a single motion, twelve darts hissing through the night to drop eleven Gorillas senseless. One missed. The Dire Wolf holstered his gun with a scowl, but he knew no one was always accurate. The remaining cultist suddenly shook themselves and thundered at him, and he dove headlong into their midst with a flurry of fists.
As the Gorillas and the intruder turned into a howling mass of thrashing bodies, a dark shaped moved in from behind to pounce like a cat on Arem Kamende. The warlock reacted with incredible reflexes, seizing the attacker and flinging him forward to the ground. "So! A cowardly attack, eh? Your bones will melt for that!" The Tel Shai renegade thrust out his open hand in an accusatory gesture and a blast of red gralic force crackled out like a spear. But Kwali was as elusive as his totem, swerving aside just enough and lunging at his foe. Swift as he was, the Cat's-Claw could not reach a fighter who had been trained in Kumundu, the primal martial art. Kwali swung his open hand in a neck-breaking blow that had never failed him. The warlock blocked and countered in one vicious continuous movement. It was over as quickly as that. Caught square in the face, the Cat's-Claw fell onto his back, got over on his hands and knees and struggled through the pain to rise. Arem Kamende ignored him and rose to face his oldest enemy.
Now almost within arm's-reach, Jeremy Bane had left a straggling line of dead or dazed men on the ground behind him. It had not been as unfair a fight as it seemed. Despite their numbers, the Night Gorillas were trying to bring down a man with armor under his clothing and a visored helmet, both of which were bulletproof. The Wolf's boots had steel toes and heel caps. He moved over the last groaning killer and raised the visor of his helmet. "Kamende, there is more to your game than you have let on. You dream bloodier dreams than this."
"Indeed," said the warlock. He moved to stand where Kwali was getting to his feet. "Indeed there is, little brother. You are so proud of your Tel Shai, but their time has passed. A new star is rising. There is a balance to all things and I am founding a new school of knowledge. My Order will be called Dark Cloud, opposite to your Bright Path."
Bane smiled grimly. "Not a chance in Hell, you traitor." Faster than a real wolf springing, he left the ground and came in with a fist that made a whooshing noise. Rarely had Bane met his equal in fighting arts- only Karina and Shiro Mitsuru. Now he suddenly faced a superior. Kamende slapped that blow to one side and and returned a backhand that struck Bane right on the temple. The impact lifted the Dire Wolf off his feet. Instantly, he was up again, furious. Kamende had studied longer than he had but still, he was not used to being met head-on like that. He got up to his feet next to Kwali.
Behind them, some of the Night Gorillas were rising also. They had taken hard blows but they were toughened assassins. Four or five got up and started to circle. For once, Bane and Kwali were taken unaware because their full attention was on Kamende. Two of the stranglers grabbed the Cat's Claw from behind, seizing his arms. The African hero swung his arms together and smashed them into each other. A third grabbed Kwali around the neck with an arm that had broken other necks but he was surprised as he was thrown down hard to the ground and an iron fist broke his sternum with one blow.
"This is my country and my fight!" roared the Cat's Claw at both Kamende and Bane. Drawing on the power of the ancient talisman he wore, the Danarakan began the lightning transformation that would give him the body of the Black Lion itself. Seven feet long, shimmering with gralic energy, that beast would slay even Arem Kamende in a heartbeat.
For an instant, Kwali's black-clad black-skinned body seemed to grow darker still, glossier, his muscles quivered. In another breath he would swell into a monstrous beast that stood five feet at the shoulder. But the change did not come.
Kamende smiled. "Having trouble with your trinket?"
"Come on," snapped Bane. "let's take him together."
They rushed at Kamende and were catapulted back by a thunderclap of lurid red flame. Oily smoke swirled around the warlock's hands. Bane's body, made more resilient than normal by the tagra tea of his Order, was still stunned. Kwali was battered as if beaten by a sledge, blood coming from his nose. Both would need a second to recover.
"Take a message!" shouted Arem Kamende in triumph. "The time of light is ending and darkness falls over this world. Give my warning to the Teachers.. Jathis, Chael, Kerlaw, Anulka... tell them all. This is the ascending hour of the Dark Cloud."
In an explosion of deep red energy, with a clap like thunder at arm's length, Kamende was gone in a god-gate. The Night Gorillas who had managed to revive fled to the darkness in panic, and neither Bane nor Kwali felt inclined to pursue them. The Dire Wolf winced as he stretched bruised muscles. The tough fabric of his field jacket had been burned away, exposing the singed crewneck shirt underneath. "Looks like all my parts are still tied together. How about you, Kwali?"
The Danarakan hero pressed the back of one hand to his bleeding nose. "I cannot live with this disgrace. He played with us like an adult toying with children."
"He's tough, all right," Bane admitted. "So what? We've bought brought down bigger game than him." Opening an inner pocket of the jacket which still smoldered, he brought out a sterile gauze pad. "Here. I know your pride has taken some hard knocks tonight, but we aren't discouraged that easy."
"That's not it. Didn't you see? I tried to transform and he stopped me. He has a way to remove my power."
"That's not my area of knowledge," Bane said as he removed his helmet and wiped sweat from his face. "Maybe an expert would know a way for you to overcome him."
"I have been humbled this night. Kamende can cancel the Claw of Wakimbe and without it, I am only a man like other men." He dabbed at his nose, which had stopped bleeding. "At Tel Shai - your Order- do your Teachers know these matters?"
"I'd bet on it. They have wisdom lost to the outside world."
Kwali did not speak for a long moment. "Then..."
"They would teach you," Bane said. "I'm sure of it. Come with me to the Order, and let them share their knowledge."
"It is not easy for me to ask for help. Pride has ever been my failing."
"Ah, it'll be fine," the Dire Wolf said in the light of the dying fire. "The Teachers will be glad to accept you. After all, they took even ME in."
Original title - "Gorilla Warfare"
(11/24/1976 - 4/10/2013)
(original "Gorilla Warfare")
7/19/- 7/20/1986
I.
Bane had been well trained. He read the expression in his enemies' eyes, saw the degree of tautness in the muscles of their leader's forearm as his fist closed tight on the imported revolver. The three hulking warriors disguised in drab business suits were members of the Night Gorillas, a killing sect feared through half of Africa. To Bane, they were just three targets.
The biggest warrior's throat muscles moved and he took in a breath. He was going to say, "Now!" in Sawhili or English, and then all three would fire. Bane did not wait. In a split-second blur of motion, he had closed the distance between himself and the killers. His left backfist snapped out like lightning, dislocating the leaders jaw before he could even give the command. In the same move, his body pivotted sideways and his boot drove deep into the next killer's stomach. All this happened before the third fully realized something unexpected was going on. That final Night Gorilla had a fragmentary glimpse of chill grey eyes and the knuckles of a fist whistling straight at him.
Jeremy Bane stood over the three moaning men and kicked the gun away from their hands down the hall. He thought, I wonder how many teeth I've loosened in the past nine years. Swamps, deserts, alleys, glacial caverns, aboard ships and now, here in a swank hotel corridor in Honjabi. He wondered if there was a record for that sort of thing and if, before he was done, he would pass it.
The Dire Wolf's thoughts caught short as he heard the faintest of sounds. Cloth rubbing against cloth, shoe leather on carpeted floor. He spun in a crouch, the dart gun appearing in his hand quicker than an untrained eye could follow. Three more men were standing at the foot of the stairs which led up from this ground floor. It was too far for him to read their reactions. But one was bracing the wrist of his gun hand across his other forearm.
Bane decided to take a chance. The Trom-metal armor under his field suit would protect him from anything except a hit to the head, and those were unlikely against his speed. He called out without forcing menace into his voice, "Who sent you?"
The lead gunman seemed seemed hesitant, whether because the odd-looking dart gun was pointed unwaveringly at him or because he had just seen this stranger take down three of the dreaded Night Gorillas in less than three seconds. In any case, he shouted in English, "Are you the American?"
"I'm AN American, there's more than one. Now, again, who sent you?"
All three spread out, the leader's gun slowly raising. "We have only death to give you."
"That's too bad," said Bane with remarkable calmness. "What I want are answers."
"Don't worry!" boomed a deep voice from the stairs behind the killers. "I'LL get you answers!"
The Night Gorillas had barely begun to react to that voice when a huge dark figure hurtled down the staircase to dive right on top of them. Like a lion on its prey, the stranger sent all three tumbling to the floor. One had taken a knee in the small of the back and would not rise. The newcomer was a big man, five inches over six feet tall, powerfully built. He was African too, wearing a tight bodysuit of black cotton. One of the men scrambled to his feet and looked back to scream, "Kwali! Kwali Cat's-Claw." The scream was cut off as Kwali yanked the man up by one arm and threw him with backbreaking force against the wall.
A third Night Gorilla had managed to get his pistol raised when a big black fist exploded into his face like a hammer, smashing his nose and flinging him down, gun clattering away. The Cat's-Claw swung around, taking in his scene. He saw Bane holstering the dart gun.
"Jeremy? I did not expect to see you so soon." Kwali straightened. His face was square, massive, not so much handsome as impressive, like an ancient statue. His skin was so dark as to be almost opaque in the dim hotel light but his eyes were oddly light green and lambent, He spoke with a faint accent.
"I came in a Corby as soon as your message arrived at KDF headquarters," said the Dire Wolf. He had unfastened his helmet and now tucked it under one arm. "You're some fighter, Kwali. If you ever change your mind about joing our team..."
The African smiled and gazed down at the shorter man. "I am tempted, Dire Wolf. To have Tel Shai training would be a great advantange. But Danarak is my homeland and my duties are mostly here. Still, if you need me, you have but to call. I remember our battles with the Snake men and in Bruenig's cemetery with pride and excitement."
"Fair enough." The Dire Wolf gestured with his thumb at the seven stunned or unconscious men scattered around the hotel floor. "So, who are these guys?"
Kwali's face tightened. "The Cult of the Night Gorillas. Very old, very evil. I've been trying to stamp them out for a year now, but there is deep money supporting them. Two turn up for each I knock down. There is little point in turning them over the police, I have stopped trying. Whatever ridiculous bail is set, Kamende will pay."
"Kamende? AREM Kamende?"
"Yes."
"Finally," Bane said. "Arem Kamende, the Spear of Destiny. He's surfaced at last."
"Jeremy, I believe the Night Gorillas have become the assassin arm of Kamende's organization. The Black Fury has his hands in many sins." He looked up as faces started appearing behind barely opened doors. "Hah! Now they dare to show themselves. Come, let us go. Obviously the enemy knows I have rented a room here."
Bane went to the foot of the stairs as Kwali retrieved a bundle of clothing. He draped himself in a plain beige-colored robe that hung to his shins, and slung a leather pouch over one shoulder. The Cat's-Claw slid his feet into rope sandals and started moving. "Tell me, what do you know of Danarak?"
"Not much. I've never been here before. Danarak exists on two levels. There is the real nation which lies here in Africa, but there is also the adjacent realm it's named after. The Danarak of the Midnight War. The main thing I remember is about the Corruption on Ulgor. A warlock from Danarak learned forbidden secrets from the Sulla Chun. Gralic projection, muscular tension and shape-shifting. His name was Wakimbe."
"Just so," said Kwali as he led the way through the lobby to the street. It was getting near dusk, and not as hot as Bane had expected as a stiff wind was blowing. Honjabi had interesting architecture, low stone buildings with arched doorways and shuttered windows. Many of the outer walls were painted in startling combinations of yellow and green. They walked past a bazaar that was winding down, with many of the stalls being closed up.
The Dire Wolf was not the only white man in sight by any means. Several Europeans hurried past with brief cases, a redheaded taxi driver rattled past and there were even two Japanese businessmen arguing in a doorway. The Danarakans themselves were very dark, rather thin and just of average height. They mostly wore Western clothes, T-shirts and trousers and sneakers.
Kwali went on, "Today, of course, much of that knowledge has been forgotten. Gralic projection survives only in a limited form as voodoo. Muscular tension is the basis of Kumundu and other martial arts. And controlled shape-shifting is mastered by a mere handful."
"You're in that handful," Bane interrupted. "I still remember you as that giant Black Lion I fought three years ago. That was no illusion. You actually turned into a cat the size of a horse."
"We were well matched the night we fought, you and I. The struggle could have gone either way. And yet..."
They were near the edge of the town, where a dirt road led out to a dry field. A row of workers' huts stretched off for the next half-mile. Bane stopped and turned to the African hero. "Something bothering you?'
"When we fought in New York, I knew that I was the stronger of we two, and you were the swifter. Yet we were balanced. But a minute ago, when you struck those men, I could hardly follow your movements. You have gotten much better in just a few years, Dire Wolf."
Bane smiled slightly. "Thanks."
"It is no idle flattery. Not only do you move more quickly in combat, but your bearing has changed. You're confident. Calm. Something has changed you."
In the growing gloom, Bane's grey eyes gleamed. "I'm still me. But I have been studying at Tel Shai. Does that explain it?"
"Tel Shai... Yes, I see." Kwali resumed walking.
"Let's get back to Kamende," Bane said. "You know he has taken over the Night Gorillas cult?"
"Yes. He is the spider, weaving his webs, planning and sending out his killers. They have a reign of terror in this city and the villages around it, demanding tribute. It is not just the strong arms of the Gorillas that strike fear, it is the knowledge that behind them is a warlock of dread power." Kwali spat into the dust. "I have not been intimidated. I will always fight them."
Bane said quietly, "Here come some now." He raised his helmet to his head.
Ten huge men came from the fields on either side, blocking the dirt road. None carried weapons. Tthey flexed powerful hands long exercised in strangling arts. Bane and Kwali stood shoulder to shoulder as the assassins drew closer.
Kwali growled deep in his throat and seemed ready to transform, but Bane placed a restraining hand on his arm. "Let me do my share."
Stepping right up to the closest Night Gorilla, the Dire Wolf said, "How about you take us to your leader and save some time?"
"We want the life of Kwali Cat's-Claw!" shouted the leader. "This is not your fight, white man."
"It's been my fight for years," Bane said. "I make it mine." With those words, he abruptly turned into an eye-defying blur of deadly motion. He took one quick hop forward like a fencer and dropped the nearest Night Gorilla with a high side kick to the jaw that spun the man completely around. It seemed as though the crack of boot hitting chin came from nowhere. The Night Gorilla fell face down in the dust.
And Bane said, "One."
The stranglers came rushing at him from all directions. Bane met one with a ride side kick to the lower stomach -"Two!" -, smacked another across the face with a roundhouse and backhand from the same fist -"Three!- and pummeled another coming directly at him with a flurry of alternating left-right hooks - "Four!"
Still the killers lunged at him. The Dire Wolf broke a jaw with a reverse crescent kick- "Five!", spun into a tight circle to smash a Gorilla sideways to the ground with a reverse crescent kick -"Six!" and grabbed the backs of two more heads to crash them together with a noise like two coconuts being broken- "Seven and eight!"
These were not barroom brawlers or cheap hired thugs but Night Gorillas, feared with good reason across half a continent. They were taken as children, often sold by impoverished families, and raised in training camps out in the wilderness. Each had to strangle a grown man before being initiated. They had been brought up without pity or fear, living for their trade. And yet, against the speed and accuracy of a knight of Tel Shai, they were helpless. With only two stranglers left, Bane decided to take one for questioning. He waited until the charging man was within arm's reach and then jumped straight up. In the second before he touched down again, he had struck twice. A left front kick to the solar plexus doubled the man up and a front snap kick with the right leg straightened the African back upright, to fall over backwards.
"Nine," said the Dire Wolf, swiveling toward the final remaining strangler. This man had just seen nine of his fellows mowed down by this strange white man with metal-gray eyes, but no fear touched him. Death before failure was the code he lived by. With a hoarse bellow, he leaped straight forward. Bane deftly side-stepped, kicking down at the back of the Night Gorilla's knee. The man dropped and Bane pounced with an open hand strike to the stranger's nape that sounded like an axe biting into wood. The Night Gorilla sagged to his hands and knees but could not rise.
"Ten," Bane said quietly, to himself. He looked up to see Kwali giving him a critical gaze.
"Showing off for my benefit, eh?" the African hero said.
"I guess I was," Bane admitted sheepishly. "I'm still trying to sell you on Tel Shai membership." He bent the Night Gorilla's arm up high behind the back and hauled the man to his feet."Time for some interrogation."
Kwali stepped over a groaning man. He reflected the cult was taking a beating tonight that would not do their mystique any good. "These are fanatics, American. He will not talk. The police have been several to death with no results."
"I wasn't thinking of torture," Bane said. "I have our own truth serum, veratilin, with us. Add some hypnosis and body reading, and we should find out whatever this loser knows. Before dawn, Kwali, I think we will have our showdown with Arem Kamende."
II.
At twenty minutes to midnight, two dark figures trotted through the high grass. There was only jungle in a strip at the southern end of Danarak, it was mostly savannah edged on desert to the north. Kwali wore his black stalking suit and carried no weapons other than his talisman. Bane was in his field suit, a semi-military looking tunic and pants and boots, with pouches and slits filled with tools and weapons. He kept pace with the Cat's-Claw in a smooth pace that would eat up distance without wearing them down. A half-mile behind them, the stealth helicopter CORBY stood beneath a solitary tree, concealed beneath a camoflauge tarp. Bane had flown them as close as they thought prudent.
"How do you know Arem Kamende?" Kwali asked as they made their way.
"I trained with him," the Dire Wolf said angrily. "He was a student at Tel Shai before I was, with much knowledge and skill. He was thought to be a fine man. But something went wrong. HE went wrong."
"Yes? Tell me all of it."
"Okay, there's a difference between what Kamende says and what he really believes. He's a schemer. He claims that Danarak needs to return to its former glory. It has been independent for twenty years but he wants to throw out all European investors and companies. He wants to make war on the neighboring nations and double in size. And he says it is all to make the nation the glorious empire it once was."
Kwali slowed almost perceptibly. "There is something to that. Danarak was a proud land before the age of imperialism. Much was lost, we suffered greatly. I can see how many of my countrymen would follow a leader who promised to restore us."
"There's the problem. Kamende has always been a liar. He will loot Danarak and move on. He was thrown out of our Order in disgrace, taking with him knowledge of gralic sorcery, of Kumundu fighting, of forbidden knowledge. He's what I hate most - a traitor and a renegade!"
"Several local politicians have been murdered by the Night Gorillas," Kwali said. "I know Kamende is setting up his own men in the vacant offices."
Bane held up a hand. "That talisman you wear?"
"Cat's-Claw? What of it?" He touched it as it hung under his outfit on a leather cord. The claw was seven inches long, ivory-colored and viciously pointed.
"It is from the Corruption, you know." They had come to a halt.
"Of course! I know that. When the Sulla Chun gave forbidden knowledge and the Midnight War truly began. The claw I wear is a
holy relic of Wakimbe himself. Without it, I am a warrior of the Bakwanga but not the Black Lion."
"That talisman is dangerous," Bane said coldly. "It is potent like everything from the Corruption and it has a lawless side. I can't give you evidence, Kwali, but I suspect the talisman is tainted. I have a bad feeling about it."
Kwali raised a finger in warning. "I will not hear such words. The Claw Of Wakimbe is sacred and has guarded our people since the first dawn. Do not malign it." With that, he took off at a brisker pace and The Dire Wolf followed in silence. They ran for the next hour as low foothills started to rise under the faint crescent moon. A stream flowed away from the hills and they raced alongside it. Finally, the sound of drumming and chanting could be heard. Kwali started to circle to the left, into the more numerous trees and undergrowth. Bane found it hard to keep up without making noise.
Standing beneath a tree, leaning on a staff with one knee drawn up,was a sentry. Bane reached to unsnap the holster of his dart gun but Kwali was already stalking him. Bane wondered for an instant if something was suddenly wrong with his own hearing. He could see the Cat's-Claw moving through the bushes but heard nothing despite his trying. The giant African warrior came up behind the Night Gorilla, clamped a hand over the man's lower face and twisted. The sound of a neck breaking was hardly audible. Kwali lowered the corpse to the grass and motioned Bane to follow.
In a tramped-down clearing under the moon, Night Gorillas danced in a frenzy around a roaring bonfire.
There were thirty of them, muscular ebony-skinned men leaping and twirling in a circle. Each wore a loincloth and metal bands on their biceps. They laughed and chanted and bellowed in joy. Nearby was a carved wooden throne taller than a standing man, covered with furs and crowned with a gold disc that glowed in the firelight. Chained on either side were two shaggy hulks sitting on the dirt-- actual gorillas, Bane realized with a start, those are real gorillas there. No, wait. They were stuffed. Nice way to treat your totem, he thought, but what can you expect from that guy? On the throne, dominating the scene, sat a fierce figure of a man.
Arem Kamende.
The Spear of Destiny was six feet tall and weighed two hundred pounds, all sculptured muscle without any fat. He wore a long red apron from a leather belt, with a white sash across his chest. Kamende's skin was jet-black, taut over his massive body. His head was clean-shaven, with a high forehead over a square, stern face. Dark eyes under thick brows burned with a brooding charismatic force that Bane felt twenty yards away. He saw a vague resemblance to Kwali, but then both men were from the Bakwanga tribe.
Bane stiffened as Kwali whispered in his ear. "Let us drawn them into the trees where we may slay them at will."
"No," replied the Dire Wolf. "I have to confront Kamende directly. He's from my Order, he's my responsibility. You stand by as a back-up."
The Cat's-Claw growled, "Do not order me! I am not your servant, Jeremy." The green eyes flared in the firelight.
Bane nodded in the gloom. "If I am killed, you can just carry out your own plan anyway. Right?"
As Kwali drew back with a surly noise, the Dire Wolf shrugged out into the clearing, walking with a firm unhurried step.
A sentry saw him and shouted the alarm. As Bane drew near, five of the stranglers were running for him, laughing with bloodlust. Bane did not draw his weapon or change his pace. The first Night Gorilla leaped at the smaller stranger in a flying tackle. Bane neatly swayed to one side, the back of his fist smacking against the man's head with a sharp thump. Two Gorillas came at him at the same time from either side. The Wolf dropped one with a roundhouse kick to the face, then shifted his weight and caught the other with a reverse kick from the same leg. These were not half-hearted moves. Each blow landed with killing impact. One of the killers was the biggest of the lot, with huge arms and broad shoulders, and he drew back his fist for a roundhouse. Before he could throw it, Bane had jumped inside and cracked the man's jawbone with the heel of his hand. The fifth attacker hesitated and then plunged forward, right into a left hook that spun him around with a spray of blood from his mouth.
The rest of the cult had drawn back, forming a semi-circle around the throne of their leader. Bane continued at the same even pace and stopped before the feet of the man he hated most. "Arem Kamende!"
"Do I know you?" asked the warlock mockingly. "Oh, yes. Bane, wasn't it? What brings you to Danarak? Not our nightlife, I fear."
"My duty. In the name of the Order of Tel Shai, I tell you to give up your bid for power here."
"I cannot do that," Kamende smirked. "It is not choice, but destiny."
"Men make their own destiny. I want the cult of Night Gorillas disbanded and your return to the Teachers for judgement."
Now the warlock chuckled. "You are as arrogant as ever, younger brother. You always thought too highly of yourself."
"I am giving you a choice you don't deserve," Bane said.
"Kill him," said Kamende in the same tone of voice.
The ring of stranglers stirred, perhaps less than to be the first to charge this stranger. Where he stood, Bane drew and fired in a single motion, twelve darts hissing through the night to drop eleven Gorillas senseless. One missed. The Dire Wolf holstered his gun with a scowl, but he knew no one was always accurate. The remaining cultist suddenly shook themselves and thundered at him, and he dove headlong into their midst with a flurry of fists.
As the Gorillas and the intruder turned into a howling mass of thrashing bodies, a dark shaped moved in from behind to pounce like a cat on Arem Kamende. The warlock reacted with incredible reflexes, seizing the attacker and flinging him forward to the ground. "So! A cowardly attack, eh? Your bones will melt for that!" The Tel Shai renegade thrust out his open hand in an accusatory gesture and a blast of red gralic force crackled out like a spear. But Kwali was as elusive as his totem, swerving aside just enough and lunging at his foe. Swift as he was, the Cat's-Claw could not reach a fighter who had been trained in Kumundu, the primal martial art. Kwali swung his open hand in a neck-breaking blow that had never failed him. The warlock blocked and countered in one vicious continuous movement. It was over as quickly as that. Caught square in the face, the Cat's-Claw fell onto his back, got over on his hands and knees and struggled through the pain to rise. Arem Kamende ignored him and rose to face his oldest enemy.
Now almost within arm's-reach, Jeremy Bane had left a straggling line of dead or dazed men on the ground behind him. It had not been as unfair a fight as it seemed. Despite their numbers, the Night Gorillas were trying to bring down a man with armor under his clothing and a visored helmet, both of which were bulletproof. The Wolf's boots had steel toes and heel caps. He moved over the last groaning killer and raised the visor of his helmet. "Kamende, there is more to your game than you have let on. You dream bloodier dreams than this."
"Indeed," said the warlock. He moved to stand where Kwali was getting to his feet. "Indeed there is, little brother. You are so proud of your Tel Shai, but their time has passed. A new star is rising. There is a balance to all things and I am founding a new school of knowledge. My Order will be called Dark Cloud, opposite to your Bright Path."
Bane smiled grimly. "Not a chance in Hell, you traitor." Faster than a real wolf springing, he left the ground and came in with a fist that made a whooshing noise. Rarely had Bane met his equal in fighting arts- only Karina and Shiro Mitsuru. Now he suddenly faced a superior. Kamende slapped that blow to one side and and returned a backhand that struck Bane right on the temple. The impact lifted the Dire Wolf off his feet. Instantly, he was up again, furious. Kamende had studied longer than he had but still, he was not used to being met head-on like that. He got up to his feet next to Kwali.
Behind them, some of the Night Gorillas were rising also. They had taken hard blows but they were toughened assassins. Four or five got up and started to circle. For once, Bane and Kwali were taken unaware because their full attention was on Kamende. Two of the stranglers grabbed the Cat's Claw from behind, seizing his arms. The African hero swung his arms together and smashed them into each other. A third grabbed Kwali around the neck with an arm that had broken other necks but he was surprised as he was thrown down hard to the ground and an iron fist broke his sternum with one blow.
"This is my country and my fight!" roared the Cat's Claw at both Kamende and Bane. Drawing on the power of the ancient talisman he wore, the Danarakan began the lightning transformation that would give him the body of the Black Lion itself. Seven feet long, shimmering with gralic energy, that beast would slay even Arem Kamende in a heartbeat.
For an instant, Kwali's black-clad black-skinned body seemed to grow darker still, glossier, his muscles quivered. In another breath he would swell into a monstrous beast that stood five feet at the shoulder. But the change did not come.
Kamende smiled. "Having trouble with your trinket?"
"Come on," snapped Bane. "let's take him together."
They rushed at Kamende and were catapulted back by a thunderclap of lurid red flame. Oily smoke swirled around the warlock's hands. Bane's body, made more resilient than normal by the tagra tea of his Order, was still stunned. Kwali was battered as if beaten by a sledge, blood coming from his nose. Both would need a second to recover.
"Take a message!" shouted Arem Kamende in triumph. "The time of light is ending and darkness falls over this world. Give my warning to the Teachers.. Jathis, Chael, Kerlaw, Anulka... tell them all. This is the ascending hour of the Dark Cloud."
In an explosion of deep red energy, with a clap like thunder at arm's length, Kamende was gone in a god-gate. The Night Gorillas who had managed to revive fled to the darkness in panic, and neither Bane nor Kwali felt inclined to pursue them. The Dire Wolf winced as he stretched bruised muscles. The tough fabric of his field jacket had been burned away, exposing the singed crewneck shirt underneath. "Looks like all my parts are still tied together. How about you, Kwali?"
The Danarakan hero pressed the back of one hand to his bleeding nose. "I cannot live with this disgrace. He played with us like an adult toying with children."
"He's tough, all right," Bane admitted. "So what? We've bought brought down bigger game than him." Opening an inner pocket of the jacket which still smoldered, he brought out a sterile gauze pad. "Here. I know your pride has taken some hard knocks tonight, but we aren't discouraged that easy."
"That's not it. Didn't you see? I tried to transform and he stopped me. He has a way to remove my power."
"That's not my area of knowledge," Bane said as he removed his helmet and wiped sweat from his face. "Maybe an expert would know a way for you to overcome him."
"I have been humbled this night. Kamende can cancel the Claw of Wakimbe and without it, I am only a man like other men." He dabbed at his nose, which had stopped bleeding. "At Tel Shai - your Order- do your Teachers know these matters?"
"I'd bet on it. They have wisdom lost to the outside world."
Kwali did not speak for a long moment. "Then..."
"They would teach you," Bane said. "I'm sure of it. Come with me to the Order, and let them share their knowledge."
"It is not easy for me to ask for help. Pride has ever been my failing."
"Ah, it'll be fine," the Dire Wolf said in the light of the dying fire. "The Teachers will be glad to accept you. After all, they took even ME in."
Original title - "Gorilla Warfare"
(11/24/1976 - 4/10/2013)
