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"Musical Chairs of the Mind"
6/13/1984
I.
For what seemed like ages, Bane struggled to fully regain consciousness. There was a fog of pain and confusion wrapped around him, holding him down. It was like trying to wake up from a deep slumber because an alarm clock would not stop ringing. Somehow he remembered his Kumundu training and began to breathe deeply in, hold it, then exhale more slowly. Again, drawing air in his lungs and clearing his head. Everything hurt. He became aware he was sitting up, but he could not move. Finally, one eye opened and then the other, blinking at the light.
He was in what looked like a rather ritzy hotel suite, with wine-colored carpeting and wood-panelled walls and modernistic furniture. A chrome sculpture of a rearing horse stood on a separate pillar of its own. Afternoon sunlight came in from French doors that opened to a balcony. He recognized the Chrysler Building in the skyline, so he was still in Manhattan. The Dire Wolf glanced down and saw he was strapped to a solid wooden chair that sat next to an identical chair. Leather straps held his wrists to the arms of the chair and his ankles to its legs, and there was a broader strap across his chest. Bane flexed and tugged, getting nowhere. There should be a way out of this. If he could start rocking and tilt the chair over... no, there didn't seem a chance it would break from the impact but if the straps loosened just a bit, maybe he could reach one of the gadgets hidden in his clothing. Always worth a try.
Then the door to the balcony opened and a huge man came through. Bane's pulse sped up and adrenalin surged through his blood. The man was seven inches over six feet in height, broad and muscular, dressed in a formal dark suit and tie with matching vest. His head was shaved, and pale hazel eyes under prominent brow ledges mocked Bane.
Karl Eldritch.
"I don't believe it," Bane said. "I was sure the world was rid of you."
"Jeremy Bane. Again we meet, but be assured this time will be the last. I am as weary of our encounters as you must be." Eldritch had a faint German accent, barely noticeable. "You and that female thief turned the Dwindle Horn against me. I have already punished her for that affront."
The Dire Wolf assumed that meant Rook was dead, and he managed to show no reaction. "The last I saw, you were the size of a flea and then you just disappeared. I hoped that you blinked out of existence."
"Hah! No, I cannot be destroyed that easily. Perhaps I cannot die at all. The ultimate secret of the universe.. converting matter into energy and energy back into matter. The secret I alone understand!"
"I know, I know," Bane interrupted. "We've been over this before. You studied the Lost Science of the Ancients. You figured out how the Zhune relics work and you collected everything from a teleporter to a freeze ray. I'm impressed. But still, you should be, I don't know... sitting on an atom somewhere?"
Eldritch stepped closer and seemed to be visibly restraining himself from beating his prisoner. "I was indeed no bigger than a dust mite when I stopped the process. Even at that size, my consciousness never lost control. I began to transmute light into mass, building up my body. It took weeks. Finally I managed to stick my hand into a wall outlet and draw on the current. Soon I was back to normal."
"And still obsessed with the relics of ancient Zhune," Bane said. His mind had been racing, coming up with and then discarding one plan after another. He let himself sigh. "The last I remember was stepping out of an elevator in a building on 59th Street."
"I was waiting. I gave you the tiniest blast possible of pure atomic fire. You were thrown down the hall and had second degree burns, but you heal remarkably fast. Your tagra diet from Tel Shai, I suppose." Eldritch bent and tugged the empty chair closer to where Bane was tied, placing it at a slight angle. "Curt! Ernst!"
Two men came in from another room, one a big bruiser in a windbreaker and billed cap, the other older and wearing a white lab smock. "Yes, doctor?"
"I am ready to begin. You know the procedure." Eldritch lowered his bulk into the empty chair and leaned back. "So, Dire Wolf. The talismans you took from me when we first met, I assume they are still secured at your headquarters building?"
"What do you think?"
"They are of no use to anyone but me," Eldritch rumbled. "Only I can generate the atomic fire which powers them. I intend to get those relics back."
"Good luck. I'd love to see you tackle Khang."
"Ah, he would be formidable if I went there as myself. But he would have no problem allowing you, his Tel Shai captain, into your vault, would he?" Eldritch laughed almost inaudibly.
As Bane watched, the older assistant raised a cylindrical helmet made of the copper-colored metal of ancient Zhune, steaming as if heated, and lowered it over the warlock's shaven head. The blank metal faceplate had only an arcane pattern etched on its surface, no holes for sight or breathing. The thug came over with an identical helmet and jammed its hot interior down over Bane's head. The Dire Wolf could neither see nor hear now, and he was only getting a little air from beneath the helmet's bottom.
The voice of Karl Eldritch said, "Lost Science of the Ancients! The men of old Zhune were geniuses indeed, Dire Wolf."
Sudden agonizing pain roared through Bane's head like a killing blast of electricity. He convulsed violently against the straps holding him in place, feeling vertigo as if he was spinning wildly through the air. He thought he must have blacked out for a second, then felt normal again. The Dire Wolf gasped for air and tried hopelessly to break free.
An unfamiliar voice said, "It worked! Ernst, it worked perfectly. Free me quickly, there is much to do."
Bane realized that somehow his arms and legs were free. He didn't know how that could have happened but he wasn't going to wait to try to figure it out. Reaching up, he yanked the helmet off and jumped to his feet... and then froze motionless at what he saw. Standing within reach was a gaunt man, six feet tall and dressed all in black. The man had short black hair and cold grey eyes in a narrow face. He looked exactly like Jeremy Bane himself. An imposter? Plastic surgery? What was Eldritch up to? For that matter, where was Eldritch?
Then realization struck him with paralyzing force. He was looking down at "Bane" from several inches higher, looking down at the room itself. He was huge, his body felt massive and yet sluggish and slow. With his mind almost stopping in shock, he ran his hands up over his massive bald head, the head of Karl Eldritch.
II.
The tableau held for a few seconds, as Ernst stepped away from where he had untied his master, 'Bane' chuckled and then broke into full gleeful laughter. He clapped his hands together. "Perfect, perfect! Oh, your expression is priceless, my boy."
In the giant warlock's body, the mind of the Dire Wolf seized control of itself. He had been in insane situations many times. This was just one more. Somehow, their minds had traded places in each other's bodies and there was no time to be be stunned by it, he had to get back in the game. 'Eldritch' lowered his hands and straightened to his full height. "All right. This is a neat trick even for you."
The body of Jeremy Bane stretched and swung his arms, then turned to his henchman. "Curt, keep him here but don't kill him unless unavoidable. I may want my original body back at some point. Well, Dire Wolf, you may want to take back all the snide remarks you made about the Zhune scientists, eh?"
"You are not going to get away with this." As he spoke, 'Eldritch' clenched his beefy fists and lunged forward but ran right into a left cross that swung his head to one side as it connected. A split-second later, a right hook from 'Bane' blurred out to smack like a hammer against the side of the shaven head. 'Eldritch' dropped to his hands and knees, dazed by the rapid blows that he had not been able to avoid or block.
"There is nothing you can do to stop me," laughed 'Bane.' "The famous Dire Wolf, more than twice as fast as a normal Human, a body trained at Tel Shai these seven years to be a hardened fighting machine... I am in that body now. I can strike between the blinks of your eyes. I must admit, it's exhilirating to be this physically fit."
Laboriously getting to his feet again, 'Eldritch' touched his bruised face. "Let's try that again," he snarled.
"I don't think so," answered 'Bane' with a smile. He raised his hands and searing white light played around them, bright enough to cast new shadows. "You still haven't realize how complete my triumph is. In addition to your physical ability, I retain my knowledge of the Lost Science. I can convert just a few of your skin cells into pure atomic fire. Before you reached me, you would be vaporized. Ah, but let us avoid that if we can. Once I regain my property, perhaps I will return to my own body." The atomic crackle faded from his hands. "You will be kept alive until then."
'Eldritch' started to move forward anyway, but halted as he saw the brutal Curt raise a Parabellum to point directly at his face. In this untrained body, limited by Human reflexes, he was not confident he could take that gun away. 'Eldritch' slowly lowered his hands and turned to glare at the warlock inhabiting his rightful body.
'Bane' turned to Ernst. "Lock the helmets away again, old friend. Help Curt watch the prisoner until I return. He is tricky and cannot be underestimated, he WILL try to escape."
"I understand, doctor," said Ernst, "but this situation is confusing. Even though I know it is your mind in the American's body, you do seem to be Jeremy Bane."
"That is what I am counting on to fool the enemy. They will be deceived by the most perfect disguise there could possibly be." He paused to grin wickedly at the helpless 'Eldritch.' "Ah, you insufferable nuisance! Suffer as you wait, knowing your friends will trust me and that will make it easy to kill them."
III.
Emerging from the elevator, 'Bane' crossed the hotel lobby to where three wooden telephone booths and went inside one. As he closed the door to the booth, the light came on and the overhead fan whirred. He dialed the number of KDF headquarters on 38th Street, what had been Kenneth Dred's home for forty years, and waited. On the third ring, a man's voice answered, "Kenneth Dred Foundation."
That voice had an Asian accent, faint now but still noticeable and 'Bane' realized who was answering. "Shiro. Listen," he gasped. "I've been hurt. Come get me, I'm at 57th and Park." The warlock in the Dire Wolf's body made his voice weak but didn't overdo it. He hung up and frowned. Now came the one part of his plan he had not been looking forward to. Still sitting in the booth, 'Bane' raised one finger and ignited the primal power of Zhune. A thin pencil shape of white atomic fire glared around that finger. 'Bane' ran it down the side of his face from brow to chin, crying out at the pain as he snapped the fire off. He had not expected it to burn that badly because his own body had been basically numb and insensitive for years.
Leaving the phone booth, 'Bane' walked through the lobby shakily. The left side of his face was blistered and swollen, with some hair burned away. He got outside and found a doorway to a woman's shoe store that seemed closed for some reason, and sank down to sit on the raised entrance. His face throbbed, but he remained detached enough to realize every detail helped his impersonation.
The wait was not long. Within a few minutes, a cherry red two-seater MG pulled sharply up to the curb. A young Asian leaped out nimbly and rushed over to him. Shiro Mitsuru was dressed in jeans, sneakers and a plain white T-shirt. He was bent over 'Bane' in a flash. "Jeremy? Look at you! What the hell happened?"
"Eldritch," said the imposter. "It was Karl Eldritch. He's back. He ambushed me and left me for dead." Getting up with Shiro's help, 'Bane' plopped into the passenger seat as the Tiger Fury raced around and dove in behind the steering wheel.
"The nearest hospital is only-" Shiro began but was cut off. The imposter yelled, "No, not the hospital. No time. Get me back to our headquarters. I'll be fine."
"You're the captain," Shiro grumbled, "But I don't always agree with your orders." He slid out into traffic. Shiro's parents had stolen the treasury from the White Web and so had lived the rest of their lives on the run. From birth, Toshiro Mitsuru had grown up in hotel rooms and cabins around the world, being taught various martial arts from every master his parents could find. It was really all he knew. With their deaths, he had continued his studies with single-minded obsession until final he ended up as a student of the Order of Tel Shai, studying Kumundu under Teacher Chael.
"You realize I am not a KDF member," he said finally. "I am a free agent, I work with you on my own terms. I seriously think you need medical attention, Jeremy."
"Fool! Do as you are bid," snapped the imposter. Then his voice softened, "I'm sorry,my friend. My head hurts and I am still a little dazed. But take me to headquarters, eh?"
"Very well." Shiro headed downtown, thinking he had never heard the Dire Wolf talk to a teammate like that before. He must be in great pain. When they reached East 38th Street, he turned left on Lexington and eased into a dead end alley. To his left, a metal door slid up automatically and he rolled his car down into the small underground garage. He had been here earlier in the day and knew that Cindy had the Mustang way upstate, leaving room for his MG. They both got out and Shiro noticed 'Bane' was looking around as if this garage was unfamiliar to him. He was getting worried about his captain.
The Tiger Fury led 'Bane' from the garage, down the narrow walkway between the armory and the vault, then up steep concrete steps. They emerged through a panel in the back of a walk-in closet, then stepped out into the main hall. Bookcases lined the walls. To their right was the medical ward and elevator, then the wide bannistered staircase. Opposite them was the open door to the reception room, and it was from here that Khang emerged.
Karl Eldritch was used to being the tallest figure in any gathering, and when he had first met Khang, the experience was humbling. Well over seven feet tall, enough to play pro basketball, Khang was not lean and lanky but had the wide shoulders and massive chest of a wrestler. The silver man was so bundled that not a glimpse of his appearance could be glimpsed. Heavy work boots, flannel trousers, a white trenchcoat tightly belted with its collar up, a slouch hat pulled low... his face was concealed behind rolls of adhesive bandages with only opaque goggles to mark where his features would have been.
The silver man raised a huge gloved hand. "Jeremy! You are hurt," he said in a voice that seemed to come from all directions at once.
"I'll be all right," answered 'Bane.' "You know I heal fast. But... it's hard to concentrate. I can't seem to remember things well. Tell me, who's here right now?"
"Only Shiro and myself. Some of the others will be back tonight. Stephen is expected to arrive around seven. Cindy will not return until tomorrow at the earliest."
'Bane' let a grin slip despite himself. The girl telepath had been his biggest concern, since her powers would expose his deception at once. "And what about Nebel?"
"Nebel?" answered Shiro. "He's in Fanedral as far as we know. He comes and goes without bothering to tell us."
"I see," said 'Bane,' fighting back a grin. Garrison Nebel, the Sorceror of Truth, had been the other KDF member he had feared would reveal his impersonation. "Well, the three of us can handle Eldritch. Shiro, go to the vault and bring up the Zhune relics we took from him."
The strangest expression fell over the Tiger Fury's face. He brushed back his mop of coarse black hair with anxious fingers. "I- I can't do that, captain. You and Cindy are the only ones who know the code for the vault. Don't you remember?"
The imposter was silent for a long moment. The danger of giving himself away would increase the longer he was here. "I'm sorry," he said eventually. "I guess I took more damage than I realized. I can't seem to remember the code right this minute..."
Khang pointed a big gloved hand toward the steps. "Perhaps you should rest, captain. I will see if Ted can come and examine you."
"Yes. I think you're right. I'll be okay, the tagra will heal me soon." The warlock in Jeremy Bane's body started up the steps, then paused to look down at Khang and Shiro. "You two go about your normal duties. Don't worry about me." Then he headed up the staircase as Shiro gave Khang an anxious stare.
At the second floor landing, 'Bane' paused. He was furious, the whole point of this strategem was to regain those Zhune artifacts! Every minute delayed increased the chance he would say something completely hopeless and reveal himself. 'Bane' glanced through the open door to his right, spotted the long oak table with twelve chairs around it and realized this was the conference room he had heard of. He entered, closing the door behind him and saw a thick leather-bound ledger sitting at the head end of the table. On its cover was written in neat cursive writing FORBIDDEN KNOWLEDGE and beneath that, KENNETH DRED.
Immediately the warlock swung over and began thumbing through the book. This was the legendary compendium of lore about the Midnight War, compiled by Kenneth Dred himself over fifty years. There were no other copies. This was priceless. 'Bane' pulled out a chair and began to skim through secrets no one was ever supposed to even suspect....
IV.
Curt gestured with his gun toward the chair with the straps. "Sit," he growled. Behind him, Ernst had produced a .32 revolver and was holding it awkwardly.
Looming up in the center of that hotel suite, 'Eldritch' raced through a dozen thoughts in less than a second. This body did not have his inborn extra speed, it had never been trained to be hard and flexible and responsive the way his own had. The muscle memory of various kicks and punches would not be there. But, as Teacher Chael had told him, physical tools were only half of a Kumundu master. It was the mind that completed the warrior, and the mind was the more dangerous half. He still had strategy, timing, the will to win.
As soon as Curt said, "Sit," a huge hard fist cracked right in the center of his face, breaking his jaw. The other hand of the giant warlock's body seized Curt's gunhand and broke its wrist, letting the pistol drop to the floor. 'Eldritch' whirled to face the other henchman just a second too late. The 32 barked sharply and two bullets thumped home in the broad chest.
They barely stung. They were like a flea bite. 'Eldritch' looked down in surprise and saw there was no blood seeping from the bullet holes. Of course! He was in the body of Karl Eldritch, the body which converted energy into matter and matter into energy. This body had just absorbed the slugs harmlessly. As soon as he realized this, 'Eldritch' lunged for Ernst, slapping the revolver aside and bringing the outer edge of his open hand down across the old man's neck like an axe. 'Eldritch' watched the corpse drop to the deep piling without a sound, then turning just in time to see Curt rising with his own gun still in hand. 'Eldritch' snapped off a single shot aiming instinctively, sending a slug right into the henchman's left eye. The man fell backwards with the loose thump of a pile of laundry.
Time to get out of here, 'Eldritch' thought as he tossed the gun aside. Then he thought of something, paused and started racing through the suite. There, in the bedroom, sitting on the dresser. Two large cylindrical containers. He yanked open the lid and saw the metallic helmet within, then picked up both containers by their handles and strode quickly toward the door. It wouldn't do to find out later he couldn't get back in his own body without the helmets.
Getting in the elevator with no one else in sight, 'Eldritch' made it to the lobby and to the street without being stopped. Maybe no one had reported those gunshots yet, this was New York City after all. Out on the sidewalk, he hailed a cab and got one quickly enough. "Thirty-eighth Street," he rumbled in a voice deeper than his own.
During the ride, he opened his shirt a few buttons and examined where he had been shot. Not even a bruise. This could be useful. Maybe he couldn't shoot atomic fire from his hands because that required arcane knowledge but it seemed Eldritch's body was adapted to the matter-energy conversion by itself now.
As they approached 38th Street, 'Eldritch' told the driver to let him off where they were. Carrying the helmet containers, he paid the fare and started walking. So far, he had not really had time to let sink in just how outrageous the situation was. This was why he hated coming up against Karl Eldritch more than other bad boys. The Lost Science was just so outrageous. It did things never heard of in the Midnight War. That Dwindle Horn that shrank people, or these mind-switching helmets. He would have sworn these effects were impossible because they hadn't happened in the world he knew. And it annoyed him, because he knew he could never predict what Eldritch would come up with next.
Standing before the familiar ten-story stone building at 28 East 38th Street, with the brass plaque KENNETH DRED FOUNDATION on the door, the towering figure paused. This would be tricky. He walked up to the front door, flipped on a concealed wooden panel and punched a code into the keypad. Locks clicked and buzzed. He opened the front door and stepped into the tiny vestibule barely large enough to hold a bench, a short table with old magazines on it and a lamp on a shelf. On the wall was an oil portrait of Dred himself. 'Eldritch' sighed as he saw it, then went to the inner door and repeated the entry procedure but with a different code. Putting down the helmet boxes, he swung open the inner door.
A giant gloved hand seized his shirt into a grip more unbreakable than any vice. He was lifted clear of the floor, swung overhead and flung violently down the front hall to crash hard on the staircase. 'Eldritch' was not hurt by the impact, just taken aback, and he did not rise immediately.
A towering figure bundled in concealed clothing faced him from the open doorway.
"Khang, wait!" cried 'Eldritch' desperately. "Listen to me! I'm Jeremy! I'm your captain. Do you understand? I'm Jeremy Bane!"
"Mayhap you have lost all reason," answered the silver man. "Your madness will not save you, though."
'Eldritch' rose to his feet and stepped away from the stairs, holding out his open hands palms up. "Somehow Eldritch put our minds in each other's bodies. His Zhunian science, somehow. You've got to believe me."
"Don't listen to him, Khang," snapped a familiar cold voice from up on the stairs. 'Eldritch' turned and saw his own original body standing there with folded arms. Beside 'Bane,' Shiro Mitsuru watched the scene with anxiety all over his face. "You know he's tricky, he'll try to confuse you."
"There is no danger of that," Khang answered as he took a menacing step forward. "His claim is mere nonsense."
"Hold it," the Tiger Fury said suddenly. "I'm not sure. How did Karl Eldritch know the combinations to both entry pads? And why is our captain so uncertain of things he should know? Jeremy... how many CORBYs are there?"
"Stop it," barked 'Bane' angrily. "My memory is coming back but my head still hurts. I took some serious trauma just an hour ago."
In between Shiro and Khang, 'Eldritch' smiled slightly. "There's the answer. Shiro! I know how you feel about Caporeira... you say it's flashy but overrated. You failed your drivers test, twice. You hate Mexican food. Your favorite American movie is HIGH NOON. Convinced?"
The Tiger Fury nodded slowly. "All true." He started walking down the steps toward the giant warlock. "Go on."
Swinging toward the silver man, 'Eldritch' went on, "Khang! The night Will Murdock died, we made a pact. I hold you to it now. We have never mentioned our pact to anyone. What else? You enjoy Celtic music. You have been reading Mark Twain at night while the rest of us sleep. You tease Cindy about her freckles. Do I sound like the man you know?"
"You do indeed," the silver man agreed. Raising his concealed face, he pointed an accusing finger at the man in black on the stairs. "You! How did you choose the name of Dire Wolf?"
"Stop it!" yelled 'Bane.' "Have you both gone crazy?"
"Maybe," Shiro answered. "Crazy as it seems, I'm starting to believe that your minds were switched. You ARE Karl Eldritch in the body of Jeremy Bane. Prove I'm wrong. Tell me something personal an outsider wouldn't know."
The gaunt figure on the staircase lifted his hands and searing white light crackled around them in a haze. "Very well, we can play the game this way."
V.
Grabbing Shiro by the shoulder, 'Eldritch' ordered, "Into the reception room. Khang, you're up at bat. This one's yours!" The huge warlock shoved the Tiger Fury into the reception room and followed himself.
Khang strode toward the figure on the stairs. "Lower your hands," came the hollow voice from all directions. "Your atomic fire cannot harm me."
"Fool! It is the primal force of the universe." 'Bane' pointed his open hand and a thick beam of white force hissed through the air with a noise like a waterfall, striking Khang directly. The towering figure was concealed in that fireball for a moment. Then, as the radiance faded, Khang was revealed. Only a few scraps of his clothing remained, hanging off him. A giant form seemingly made of living silver, the servant of Halar-Koth stood unharmed. The door behind him was charred and smoldering, his outline remaining untouched on its surface.
Khang's head was a smooth helmet of silver without hair or ears or mouth. Its only feature was a pair of eyeslits which blazed as if lit from within. With no lungs or mouth to move air, the silver man's voice boomed out in that hall, "You waste your time and mine, Eldritch. Shall I show you what real power is?" Khang lifted his own hand. The hall went pure white for a second, a solid glare that living eyes could not function within. Thunder detonated in that hall, shaking pictures off the wall. A few seconds later, sight returned to 'Eldritch' and Shiro watching from the doorway of the reception room.
The form of Jeremy Bane sprawled face down on the stairs, moving feebly as he tried to rise but failed. Steam rose from his clothing.
Khang lowered his hand. "That was not even a bolt, just the barest summoning of the gralic force I can weild. You have much to learn, Karl Eldritch." He turned his blazing eyes toward the two men in the doorway. "It is safe to come out, my friends. He is dazed."
"Good work, Khang," said 'Eldritch.' "I'm glad you didn't blow my real body to dust."
Shiro cautiously approached the twitching form on the stairs. "This is still hard to believe. What if you two stay like this?"
"We're going to try to reverse it," answered 'Eldritch.' He had gone to the vestibule and retrieved the two containers, bringing them into the hall. Going over to the stairs, he and Shiro raised the limp burden of Bane's real body and lowered it to the floor. 'Eldritch' pulled the Zhune helmets out of their containers and placed them on the carpet next to his body.
"I know Eldritch is not going to cooperate," he said as he sat down next to his real self. "So we have to try without him. Shiro, take that helmet. When I put this one on, place that one on my head. You know what I mean, the head of my real body there. And get ready to yank it off."
"Understood, captain." Raising the head and shoulders of Bane's body off the floor under his own knees, Shiro held the copper-colored featureless cylinder ready.
"I hope this works," 'Eldritch' muttered to himself. "Okay, Shiro, let's do it." Lowering the warm metal helmet over his head, 'Eldritch' took a deep uncertain breath. Again, a thrill of piercing agony ran through his head and he twitched as he felt exactly as if he were falling from a great height. He shuddered convulsively, reached up and tugged the helmet off, gasping for breath.
Instantly, he knew he was back in his own body again. He felt normal for the first time since he had woken up in that hotel suite only a few hours earlier. Bane turned his head and saw Shiro kneeling and holding him up. The Tiger Fury had never looked more worried.
"It's all right," Bane said. "I'm back. It worked." Bane sat up, got to his feet and swayed but caught himself.
Khang had come over and regarded the Dire Wolf thoughtfully. "Welcome back, old friend," sounded the eerie voice. "It is good to see you as you were meant to be."
"Thanks. Both of you did good work today. Let's check on that rat." Bane bent over the hulk of Karl Eldritch and removed the helmet. The warlock was still unconscious. He took the man's pulse and listened to his breathing. "Odd. He's alive. Vital signs are strong. But he's not coming out of it."
The deepset hazel eyes opened, stared straight again blankly, then closed again. The warlock took a deep breath and went back to sleep. Bane stood up, still holding the helmet of ancient Zhune. "You know, I have a feeling his consciousness never made it back to his real body. He wasn't awake during the transfer."
"My God," said Shiro. "So.. this is just his body lying here. Without a mind in it? That's horrible."
"No worse than what he deserves," Bane snorted. "He intended to kill the three of us and any of our teammates he could find. Well. I guess we'll keep him here for observation today. When Cindy comes back, she can probe his head for any signs of awareness but I doubt if she'll find any."
The Tiger Fury folded his arms and shuddered. "This gives me the creeps. I am at home with straighforward fighting against flesh and blood. What are we going to do if he doesn't come back to normal, captain?"
Bane shrugged callously. "Dump him at some hospital emergency room without being seen. I bet he ends up in a bed somewhere with an IV in his arm and nurses checking on him twice a day. At least he's out of our hair from now on."
"It seems strangely familiar," rumbled Khang. "Didn't you play that game as children? When the music stops, everyone tries to sit and one player is left without a chair. Musical chairs."
7/15/2014
I.
For what seemed like ages, Bane struggled to fully regain consciousness. There was a fog of pain and confusion wrapped around him, holding him down. It was like trying to wake up from a deep slumber because an alarm clock would not stop ringing. Somehow he remembered his Kumundu training and began to breathe deeply in, hold it, then exhale more slowly. Again, drawing air in his lungs and clearing his head. Everything hurt. He became aware he was sitting up, but he could not move. Finally, one eye opened and then the other, blinking at the light.
He was in what looked like a rather ritzy hotel suite, with wine-colored carpeting and wood-panelled walls and modernistic furniture. A chrome sculpture of a rearing horse stood on a separate pillar of its own. Afternoon sunlight came in from French doors that opened to a balcony. He recognized the Chrysler Building in the skyline, so he was still in Manhattan. The Dire Wolf glanced down and saw he was strapped to a solid wooden chair that sat next to an identical chair. Leather straps held his wrists to the arms of the chair and his ankles to its legs, and there was a broader strap across his chest. Bane flexed and tugged, getting nowhere. There should be a way out of this. If he could start rocking and tilt the chair over... no, there didn't seem a chance it would break from the impact but if the straps loosened just a bit, maybe he could reach one of the gadgets hidden in his clothing. Always worth a try.
Then the door to the balcony opened and a huge man came through. Bane's pulse sped up and adrenalin surged through his blood. The man was seven inches over six feet in height, broad and muscular, dressed in a formal dark suit and tie with matching vest. His head was shaved, and pale hazel eyes under prominent brow ledges mocked Bane.
Karl Eldritch.
"I don't believe it," Bane said. "I was sure the world was rid of you."
"Jeremy Bane. Again we meet, but be assured this time will be the last. I am as weary of our encounters as you must be." Eldritch had a faint German accent, barely noticeable. "You and that female thief turned the Dwindle Horn against me. I have already punished her for that affront."
The Dire Wolf assumed that meant Rook was dead, and he managed to show no reaction. "The last I saw, you were the size of a flea and then you just disappeared. I hoped that you blinked out of existence."
"Hah! No, I cannot be destroyed that easily. Perhaps I cannot die at all. The ultimate secret of the universe.. converting matter into energy and energy back into matter. The secret I alone understand!"
"I know, I know," Bane interrupted. "We've been over this before. You studied the Lost Science of the Ancients. You figured out how the Zhune relics work and you collected everything from a teleporter to a freeze ray. I'm impressed. But still, you should be, I don't know... sitting on an atom somewhere?"
Eldritch stepped closer and seemed to be visibly restraining himself from beating his prisoner. "I was indeed no bigger than a dust mite when I stopped the process. Even at that size, my consciousness never lost control. I began to transmute light into mass, building up my body. It took weeks. Finally I managed to stick my hand into a wall outlet and draw on the current. Soon I was back to normal."
"And still obsessed with the relics of ancient Zhune," Bane said. His mind had been racing, coming up with and then discarding one plan after another. He let himself sigh. "The last I remember was stepping out of an elevator in a building on 59th Street."
"I was waiting. I gave you the tiniest blast possible of pure atomic fire. You were thrown down the hall and had second degree burns, but you heal remarkably fast. Your tagra diet from Tel Shai, I suppose." Eldritch bent and tugged the empty chair closer to where Bane was tied, placing it at a slight angle. "Curt! Ernst!"
Two men came in from another room, one a big bruiser in a windbreaker and billed cap, the other older and wearing a white lab smock. "Yes, doctor?"
"I am ready to begin. You know the procedure." Eldritch lowered his bulk into the empty chair and leaned back. "So, Dire Wolf. The talismans you took from me when we first met, I assume they are still secured at your headquarters building?"
"What do you think?"
"They are of no use to anyone but me," Eldritch rumbled. "Only I can generate the atomic fire which powers them. I intend to get those relics back."
"Good luck. I'd love to see you tackle Khang."
"Ah, he would be formidable if I went there as myself. But he would have no problem allowing you, his Tel Shai captain, into your vault, would he?" Eldritch laughed almost inaudibly.
As Bane watched, the older assistant raised a cylindrical helmet made of the copper-colored metal of ancient Zhune, steaming as if heated, and lowered it over the warlock's shaven head. The blank metal faceplate had only an arcane pattern etched on its surface, no holes for sight or breathing. The thug came over with an identical helmet and jammed its hot interior down over Bane's head. The Dire Wolf could neither see nor hear now, and he was only getting a little air from beneath the helmet's bottom.
The voice of Karl Eldritch said, "Lost Science of the Ancients! The men of old Zhune were geniuses indeed, Dire Wolf."
Sudden agonizing pain roared through Bane's head like a killing blast of electricity. He convulsed violently against the straps holding him in place, feeling vertigo as if he was spinning wildly through the air. He thought he must have blacked out for a second, then felt normal again. The Dire Wolf gasped for air and tried hopelessly to break free.
An unfamiliar voice said, "It worked! Ernst, it worked perfectly. Free me quickly, there is much to do."
Bane realized that somehow his arms and legs were free. He didn't know how that could have happened but he wasn't going to wait to try to figure it out. Reaching up, he yanked the helmet off and jumped to his feet... and then froze motionless at what he saw. Standing within reach was a gaunt man, six feet tall and dressed all in black. The man had short black hair and cold grey eyes in a narrow face. He looked exactly like Jeremy Bane himself. An imposter? Plastic surgery? What was Eldritch up to? For that matter, where was Eldritch?
Then realization struck him with paralyzing force. He was looking down at "Bane" from several inches higher, looking down at the room itself. He was huge, his body felt massive and yet sluggish and slow. With his mind almost stopping in shock, he ran his hands up over his massive bald head, the head of Karl Eldritch.
II.
The tableau held for a few seconds, as Ernst stepped away from where he had untied his master, 'Bane' chuckled and then broke into full gleeful laughter. He clapped his hands together. "Perfect, perfect! Oh, your expression is priceless, my boy."
In the giant warlock's body, the mind of the Dire Wolf seized control of itself. He had been in insane situations many times. This was just one more. Somehow, their minds had traded places in each other's bodies and there was no time to be be stunned by it, he had to get back in the game. 'Eldritch' lowered his hands and straightened to his full height. "All right. This is a neat trick even for you."
The body of Jeremy Bane stretched and swung his arms, then turned to his henchman. "Curt, keep him here but don't kill him unless unavoidable. I may want my original body back at some point. Well, Dire Wolf, you may want to take back all the snide remarks you made about the Zhune scientists, eh?"
"You are not going to get away with this." As he spoke, 'Eldritch' clenched his beefy fists and lunged forward but ran right into a left cross that swung his head to one side as it connected. A split-second later, a right hook from 'Bane' blurred out to smack like a hammer against the side of the shaven head. 'Eldritch' dropped to his hands and knees, dazed by the rapid blows that he had not been able to avoid or block.
"There is nothing you can do to stop me," laughed 'Bane.' "The famous Dire Wolf, more than twice as fast as a normal Human, a body trained at Tel Shai these seven years to be a hardened fighting machine... I am in that body now. I can strike between the blinks of your eyes. I must admit, it's exhilirating to be this physically fit."
Laboriously getting to his feet again, 'Eldritch' touched his bruised face. "Let's try that again," he snarled.
"I don't think so," answered 'Bane' with a smile. He raised his hands and searing white light played around them, bright enough to cast new shadows. "You still haven't realize how complete my triumph is. In addition to your physical ability, I retain my knowledge of the Lost Science. I can convert just a few of your skin cells into pure atomic fire. Before you reached me, you would be vaporized. Ah, but let us avoid that if we can. Once I regain my property, perhaps I will return to my own body." The atomic crackle faded from his hands. "You will be kept alive until then."
'Eldritch' started to move forward anyway, but halted as he saw the brutal Curt raise a Parabellum to point directly at his face. In this untrained body, limited by Human reflexes, he was not confident he could take that gun away. 'Eldritch' slowly lowered his hands and turned to glare at the warlock inhabiting his rightful body.
'Bane' turned to Ernst. "Lock the helmets away again, old friend. Help Curt watch the prisoner until I return. He is tricky and cannot be underestimated, he WILL try to escape."
"I understand, doctor," said Ernst, "but this situation is confusing. Even though I know it is your mind in the American's body, you do seem to be Jeremy Bane."
"That is what I am counting on to fool the enemy. They will be deceived by the most perfect disguise there could possibly be." He paused to grin wickedly at the helpless 'Eldritch.' "Ah, you insufferable nuisance! Suffer as you wait, knowing your friends will trust me and that will make it easy to kill them."
III.
Emerging from the elevator, 'Bane' crossed the hotel lobby to where three wooden telephone booths and went inside one. As he closed the door to the booth, the light came on and the overhead fan whirred. He dialed the number of KDF headquarters on 38th Street, what had been Kenneth Dred's home for forty years, and waited. On the third ring, a man's voice answered, "Kenneth Dred Foundation."
That voice had an Asian accent, faint now but still noticeable and 'Bane' realized who was answering. "Shiro. Listen," he gasped. "I've been hurt. Come get me, I'm at 57th and Park." The warlock in the Dire Wolf's body made his voice weak but didn't overdo it. He hung up and frowned. Now came the one part of his plan he had not been looking forward to. Still sitting in the booth, 'Bane' raised one finger and ignited the primal power of Zhune. A thin pencil shape of white atomic fire glared around that finger. 'Bane' ran it down the side of his face from brow to chin, crying out at the pain as he snapped the fire off. He had not expected it to burn that badly because his own body had been basically numb and insensitive for years.
Leaving the phone booth, 'Bane' walked through the lobby shakily. The left side of his face was blistered and swollen, with some hair burned away. He got outside and found a doorway to a woman's shoe store that seemed closed for some reason, and sank down to sit on the raised entrance. His face throbbed, but he remained detached enough to realize every detail helped his impersonation.
The wait was not long. Within a few minutes, a cherry red two-seater MG pulled sharply up to the curb. A young Asian leaped out nimbly and rushed over to him. Shiro Mitsuru was dressed in jeans, sneakers and a plain white T-shirt. He was bent over 'Bane' in a flash. "Jeremy? Look at you! What the hell happened?"
"Eldritch," said the imposter. "It was Karl Eldritch. He's back. He ambushed me and left me for dead." Getting up with Shiro's help, 'Bane' plopped into the passenger seat as the Tiger Fury raced around and dove in behind the steering wheel.
"The nearest hospital is only-" Shiro began but was cut off. The imposter yelled, "No, not the hospital. No time. Get me back to our headquarters. I'll be fine."
"You're the captain," Shiro grumbled, "But I don't always agree with your orders." He slid out into traffic. Shiro's parents had stolen the treasury from the White Web and so had lived the rest of their lives on the run. From birth, Toshiro Mitsuru had grown up in hotel rooms and cabins around the world, being taught various martial arts from every master his parents could find. It was really all he knew. With their deaths, he had continued his studies with single-minded obsession until final he ended up as a student of the Order of Tel Shai, studying Kumundu under Teacher Chael.
"You realize I am not a KDF member," he said finally. "I am a free agent, I work with you on my own terms. I seriously think you need medical attention, Jeremy."
"Fool! Do as you are bid," snapped the imposter. Then his voice softened, "I'm sorry,my friend. My head hurts and I am still a little dazed. But take me to headquarters, eh?"
"Very well." Shiro headed downtown, thinking he had never heard the Dire Wolf talk to a teammate like that before. He must be in great pain. When they reached East 38th Street, he turned left on Lexington and eased into a dead end alley. To his left, a metal door slid up automatically and he rolled his car down into the small underground garage. He had been here earlier in the day and knew that Cindy had the Mustang way upstate, leaving room for his MG. They both got out and Shiro noticed 'Bane' was looking around as if this garage was unfamiliar to him. He was getting worried about his captain.
The Tiger Fury led 'Bane' from the garage, down the narrow walkway between the armory and the vault, then up steep concrete steps. They emerged through a panel in the back of a walk-in closet, then stepped out into the main hall. Bookcases lined the walls. To their right was the medical ward and elevator, then the wide bannistered staircase. Opposite them was the open door to the reception room, and it was from here that Khang emerged.
Karl Eldritch was used to being the tallest figure in any gathering, and when he had first met Khang, the experience was humbling. Well over seven feet tall, enough to play pro basketball, Khang was not lean and lanky but had the wide shoulders and massive chest of a wrestler. The silver man was so bundled that not a glimpse of his appearance could be glimpsed. Heavy work boots, flannel trousers, a white trenchcoat tightly belted with its collar up, a slouch hat pulled low... his face was concealed behind rolls of adhesive bandages with only opaque goggles to mark where his features would have been.
The silver man raised a huge gloved hand. "Jeremy! You are hurt," he said in a voice that seemed to come from all directions at once.
"I'll be all right," answered 'Bane.' "You know I heal fast. But... it's hard to concentrate. I can't seem to remember things well. Tell me, who's here right now?"
"Only Shiro and myself. Some of the others will be back tonight. Stephen is expected to arrive around seven. Cindy will not return until tomorrow at the earliest."
'Bane' let a grin slip despite himself. The girl telepath had been his biggest concern, since her powers would expose his deception at once. "And what about Nebel?"
"Nebel?" answered Shiro. "He's in Fanedral as far as we know. He comes and goes without bothering to tell us."
"I see," said 'Bane,' fighting back a grin. Garrison Nebel, the Sorceror of Truth, had been the other KDF member he had feared would reveal his impersonation. "Well, the three of us can handle Eldritch. Shiro, go to the vault and bring up the Zhune relics we took from him."
The strangest expression fell over the Tiger Fury's face. He brushed back his mop of coarse black hair with anxious fingers. "I- I can't do that, captain. You and Cindy are the only ones who know the code for the vault. Don't you remember?"
The imposter was silent for a long moment. The danger of giving himself away would increase the longer he was here. "I'm sorry," he said eventually. "I guess I took more damage than I realized. I can't seem to remember the code right this minute..."
Khang pointed a big gloved hand toward the steps. "Perhaps you should rest, captain. I will see if Ted can come and examine you."
"Yes. I think you're right. I'll be okay, the tagra will heal me soon." The warlock in Jeremy Bane's body started up the steps, then paused to look down at Khang and Shiro. "You two go about your normal duties. Don't worry about me." Then he headed up the staircase as Shiro gave Khang an anxious stare.
At the second floor landing, 'Bane' paused. He was furious, the whole point of this strategem was to regain those Zhune artifacts! Every minute delayed increased the chance he would say something completely hopeless and reveal himself. 'Bane' glanced through the open door to his right, spotted the long oak table with twelve chairs around it and realized this was the conference room he had heard of. He entered, closing the door behind him and saw a thick leather-bound ledger sitting at the head end of the table. On its cover was written in neat cursive writing FORBIDDEN KNOWLEDGE and beneath that, KENNETH DRED.
Immediately the warlock swung over and began thumbing through the book. This was the legendary compendium of lore about the Midnight War, compiled by Kenneth Dred himself over fifty years. There were no other copies. This was priceless. 'Bane' pulled out a chair and began to skim through secrets no one was ever supposed to even suspect....
IV.
Curt gestured with his gun toward the chair with the straps. "Sit," he growled. Behind him, Ernst had produced a .32 revolver and was holding it awkwardly.
Looming up in the center of that hotel suite, 'Eldritch' raced through a dozen thoughts in less than a second. This body did not have his inborn extra speed, it had never been trained to be hard and flexible and responsive the way his own had. The muscle memory of various kicks and punches would not be there. But, as Teacher Chael had told him, physical tools were only half of a Kumundu master. It was the mind that completed the warrior, and the mind was the more dangerous half. He still had strategy, timing, the will to win.
As soon as Curt said, "Sit," a huge hard fist cracked right in the center of his face, breaking his jaw. The other hand of the giant warlock's body seized Curt's gunhand and broke its wrist, letting the pistol drop to the floor. 'Eldritch' whirled to face the other henchman just a second too late. The 32 barked sharply and two bullets thumped home in the broad chest.
They barely stung. They were like a flea bite. 'Eldritch' looked down in surprise and saw there was no blood seeping from the bullet holes. Of course! He was in the body of Karl Eldritch, the body which converted energy into matter and matter into energy. This body had just absorbed the slugs harmlessly. As soon as he realized this, 'Eldritch' lunged for Ernst, slapping the revolver aside and bringing the outer edge of his open hand down across the old man's neck like an axe. 'Eldritch' watched the corpse drop to the deep piling without a sound, then turning just in time to see Curt rising with his own gun still in hand. 'Eldritch' snapped off a single shot aiming instinctively, sending a slug right into the henchman's left eye. The man fell backwards with the loose thump of a pile of laundry.
Time to get out of here, 'Eldritch' thought as he tossed the gun aside. Then he thought of something, paused and started racing through the suite. There, in the bedroom, sitting on the dresser. Two large cylindrical containers. He yanked open the lid and saw the metallic helmet within, then picked up both containers by their handles and strode quickly toward the door. It wouldn't do to find out later he couldn't get back in his own body without the helmets.
Getting in the elevator with no one else in sight, 'Eldritch' made it to the lobby and to the street without being stopped. Maybe no one had reported those gunshots yet, this was New York City after all. Out on the sidewalk, he hailed a cab and got one quickly enough. "Thirty-eighth Street," he rumbled in a voice deeper than his own.
During the ride, he opened his shirt a few buttons and examined where he had been shot. Not even a bruise. This could be useful. Maybe he couldn't shoot atomic fire from his hands because that required arcane knowledge but it seemed Eldritch's body was adapted to the matter-energy conversion by itself now.
As they approached 38th Street, 'Eldritch' told the driver to let him off where they were. Carrying the helmet containers, he paid the fare and started walking. So far, he had not really had time to let sink in just how outrageous the situation was. This was why he hated coming up against Karl Eldritch more than other bad boys. The Lost Science was just so outrageous. It did things never heard of in the Midnight War. That Dwindle Horn that shrank people, or these mind-switching helmets. He would have sworn these effects were impossible because they hadn't happened in the world he knew. And it annoyed him, because he knew he could never predict what Eldritch would come up with next.
Standing before the familiar ten-story stone building at 28 East 38th Street, with the brass plaque KENNETH DRED FOUNDATION on the door, the towering figure paused. This would be tricky. He walked up to the front door, flipped on a concealed wooden panel and punched a code into the keypad. Locks clicked and buzzed. He opened the front door and stepped into the tiny vestibule barely large enough to hold a bench, a short table with old magazines on it and a lamp on a shelf. On the wall was an oil portrait of Dred himself. 'Eldritch' sighed as he saw it, then went to the inner door and repeated the entry procedure but with a different code. Putting down the helmet boxes, he swung open the inner door.
A giant gloved hand seized his shirt into a grip more unbreakable than any vice. He was lifted clear of the floor, swung overhead and flung violently down the front hall to crash hard on the staircase. 'Eldritch' was not hurt by the impact, just taken aback, and he did not rise immediately.
A towering figure bundled in concealed clothing faced him from the open doorway.
"Khang, wait!" cried 'Eldritch' desperately. "Listen to me! I'm Jeremy! I'm your captain. Do you understand? I'm Jeremy Bane!"
"Mayhap you have lost all reason," answered the silver man. "Your madness will not save you, though."
'Eldritch' rose to his feet and stepped away from the stairs, holding out his open hands palms up. "Somehow Eldritch put our minds in each other's bodies. His Zhunian science, somehow. You've got to believe me."
"Don't listen to him, Khang," snapped a familiar cold voice from up on the stairs. 'Eldritch' turned and saw his own original body standing there with folded arms. Beside 'Bane,' Shiro Mitsuru watched the scene with anxiety all over his face. "You know he's tricky, he'll try to confuse you."
"There is no danger of that," Khang answered as he took a menacing step forward. "His claim is mere nonsense."
"Hold it," the Tiger Fury said suddenly. "I'm not sure. How did Karl Eldritch know the combinations to both entry pads? And why is our captain so uncertain of things he should know? Jeremy... how many CORBYs are there?"
"Stop it," barked 'Bane' angrily. "My memory is coming back but my head still hurts. I took some serious trauma just an hour ago."
In between Shiro and Khang, 'Eldritch' smiled slightly. "There's the answer. Shiro! I know how you feel about Caporeira... you say it's flashy but overrated. You failed your drivers test, twice. You hate Mexican food. Your favorite American movie is HIGH NOON. Convinced?"
The Tiger Fury nodded slowly. "All true." He started walking down the steps toward the giant warlock. "Go on."
Swinging toward the silver man, 'Eldritch' went on, "Khang! The night Will Murdock died, we made a pact. I hold you to it now. We have never mentioned our pact to anyone. What else? You enjoy Celtic music. You have been reading Mark Twain at night while the rest of us sleep. You tease Cindy about her freckles. Do I sound like the man you know?"
"You do indeed," the silver man agreed. Raising his concealed face, he pointed an accusing finger at the man in black on the stairs. "You! How did you choose the name of Dire Wolf?"
"Stop it!" yelled 'Bane.' "Have you both gone crazy?"
"Maybe," Shiro answered. "Crazy as it seems, I'm starting to believe that your minds were switched. You ARE Karl Eldritch in the body of Jeremy Bane. Prove I'm wrong. Tell me something personal an outsider wouldn't know."
The gaunt figure on the staircase lifted his hands and searing white light crackled around them in a haze. "Very well, we can play the game this way."
V.
Grabbing Shiro by the shoulder, 'Eldritch' ordered, "Into the reception room. Khang, you're up at bat. This one's yours!" The huge warlock shoved the Tiger Fury into the reception room and followed himself.
Khang strode toward the figure on the stairs. "Lower your hands," came the hollow voice from all directions. "Your atomic fire cannot harm me."
"Fool! It is the primal force of the universe." 'Bane' pointed his open hand and a thick beam of white force hissed through the air with a noise like a waterfall, striking Khang directly. The towering figure was concealed in that fireball for a moment. Then, as the radiance faded, Khang was revealed. Only a few scraps of his clothing remained, hanging off him. A giant form seemingly made of living silver, the servant of Halar-Koth stood unharmed. The door behind him was charred and smoldering, his outline remaining untouched on its surface.
Khang's head was a smooth helmet of silver without hair or ears or mouth. Its only feature was a pair of eyeslits which blazed as if lit from within. With no lungs or mouth to move air, the silver man's voice boomed out in that hall, "You waste your time and mine, Eldritch. Shall I show you what real power is?" Khang lifted his own hand. The hall went pure white for a second, a solid glare that living eyes could not function within. Thunder detonated in that hall, shaking pictures off the wall. A few seconds later, sight returned to 'Eldritch' and Shiro watching from the doorway of the reception room.
The form of Jeremy Bane sprawled face down on the stairs, moving feebly as he tried to rise but failed. Steam rose from his clothing.
Khang lowered his hand. "That was not even a bolt, just the barest summoning of the gralic force I can weild. You have much to learn, Karl Eldritch." He turned his blazing eyes toward the two men in the doorway. "It is safe to come out, my friends. He is dazed."
"Good work, Khang," said 'Eldritch.' "I'm glad you didn't blow my real body to dust."
Shiro cautiously approached the twitching form on the stairs. "This is still hard to believe. What if you two stay like this?"
"We're going to try to reverse it," answered 'Eldritch.' He had gone to the vestibule and retrieved the two containers, bringing them into the hall. Going over to the stairs, he and Shiro raised the limp burden of Bane's real body and lowered it to the floor. 'Eldritch' pulled the Zhune helmets out of their containers and placed them on the carpet next to his body.
"I know Eldritch is not going to cooperate," he said as he sat down next to his real self. "So we have to try without him. Shiro, take that helmet. When I put this one on, place that one on my head. You know what I mean, the head of my real body there. And get ready to yank it off."
"Understood, captain." Raising the head and shoulders of Bane's body off the floor under his own knees, Shiro held the copper-colored featureless cylinder ready.
"I hope this works," 'Eldritch' muttered to himself. "Okay, Shiro, let's do it." Lowering the warm metal helmet over his head, 'Eldritch' took a deep uncertain breath. Again, a thrill of piercing agony ran through his head and he twitched as he felt exactly as if he were falling from a great height. He shuddered convulsively, reached up and tugged the helmet off, gasping for breath.
Instantly, he knew he was back in his own body again. He felt normal for the first time since he had woken up in that hotel suite only a few hours earlier. Bane turned his head and saw Shiro kneeling and holding him up. The Tiger Fury had never looked more worried.
"It's all right," Bane said. "I'm back. It worked." Bane sat up, got to his feet and swayed but caught himself.
Khang had come over and regarded the Dire Wolf thoughtfully. "Welcome back, old friend," sounded the eerie voice. "It is good to see you as you were meant to be."
"Thanks. Both of you did good work today. Let's check on that rat." Bane bent over the hulk of Karl Eldritch and removed the helmet. The warlock was still unconscious. He took the man's pulse and listened to his breathing. "Odd. He's alive. Vital signs are strong. But he's not coming out of it."
The deepset hazel eyes opened, stared straight again blankly, then closed again. The warlock took a deep breath and went back to sleep. Bane stood up, still holding the helmet of ancient Zhune. "You know, I have a feeling his consciousness never made it back to his real body. He wasn't awake during the transfer."
"My God," said Shiro. "So.. this is just his body lying here. Without a mind in it? That's horrible."
"No worse than what he deserves," Bane snorted. "He intended to kill the three of us and any of our teammates he could find. Well. I guess we'll keep him here for observation today. When Cindy comes back, she can probe his head for any signs of awareness but I doubt if she'll find any."
The Tiger Fury folded his arms and shuddered. "This gives me the creeps. I am at home with straighforward fighting against flesh and blood. What are we going to do if he doesn't come back to normal, captain?"
Bane shrugged callously. "Dump him at some hospital emergency room without being seen. I bet he ends up in a bed somewhere with an IV in his arm and nurses checking on him twice a day. At least he's out of our hair from now on."
"It seems strangely familiar," rumbled Khang. "Didn't you play that game as children? When the music stops, everyone tries to sit and one player is left without a chair. Musical chairs."
7/15/2014