"I Teach You the Superman"
May. 20th, 2022 03:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dochermes"I Teach You the Superman"
5/28-5/30/1988
I.
Folding the artificial batlike wings of red silk over aluminum tubing against his back, Stephen Weaver dropped his legs beneath him and landed lightly next to his teammates. The Black Angel stepped closer to Bane and Sulak, keeping his voice low. "There's some weird Zhune mechanism in the back yard, all right. I didn't spot any sentries."
Watching the cottage halfway down the hill from where they stood concealed in the trees, Jeremy Bane did not answer at once. "I haven't seen any movement down there either. I hoped we would get here before Avathor returned."
The third member of the Tel Shai knights loomed up over his friends. Sulak of Androval was only an inch or two taller than his partners, but he was an imposing mass of hard-defined muscle with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. The Melgar was wearing his traditional arena uniform of Royal blue tunic and leggings with white gloves, short boots and sash around his waist. He looked like the gladiator he was. Impressive as he appeared, even that did not hint at the superhuman strength in his body... the Legacy of Malberon.
"We should simply march down there and claim the Zhune apparatus," said the big Melgar. "Avathor being here is bad enough but if Karl Eldritch should show up...!"
Bane made an angry snort. "Our biggest fear, all right. Eldritch has been searching for Zhune relics for years. Every time he locates one, there's a disaster we barely survive." The Dire Wolf was a lean, taut man in the black field suit fitted with a dozen weapons and gimmicks. His grey eyes were unsettling at best but now they were actively intimidating.
Standing next to him, Weaver had unfastened his crested helmet and lifted it off for the moment. He was an American black man with a rather friendly, open face and thoughtful eyes. A thick mustache was his attempt to draw attention away from a slightly large nose. "I've never met this Avathor, captain. As I understand it, he's a Gralic Leech."
"He was a Melgar," Sulak grumbled, "But he was disowned by our King. Now he is a renegade and outcast without honor. Avathor is a living shame to my Race."
The Dire Wolf began moving toward the edge of the hill. Behind them, the remote back road was empty at four in the morning. They hadn't seen another vehicle pass in the hour they had been here watching the cottage set halfway down the hill. To their side was a walk made of flat shale slabs set in the ground, but Bane stayed well away from it. "Sulak, I want you with me. Steve, you should get in the air again and circle around to watch us from the opposite side of the yard. If there's trouble, you're back-up."
"Got it, captain," replied the Black Angel. He lowered the helmet on again, fastened its latches and checked the 45 automatic in the flap holster at his belt. At a command electronically relayed from the muscles in his back, the artifical wings rustled open to their full eight foot span. Without crouching or seeming effort, Weaver shot silently and smoothly straight up into the night air. He was the most gifted levitator known. The secret USAF Black Angel Project had never located another person near his level. Most levitators could barely rise an inch or two off the ground. Weaver could fly.
In the open back yard, where the grass had not started to grow yet after a long winter, a raised round plate of some coppery metal had been set up. It was three feet across and had a single vertical pole rising up to end in a round knob at chest height. The plate itself was incised with intricate patterns that seemed almost like a diagram. From one side of the apparatus, two thick cables of the red metal stretched across the yard to end with a small raised stand from which an identical rod stood up.
"Careful, careful," Bane grumbled. "Stay alert. Let's not jump into this. We'll inspect this outer control first." With Sulak beside him, the Dire Wolf stood near the rod which rose by itself away from the ground plate. "This knob on top activates the mechanism, I guess...."
Swooping down to join them, Black Angel brought his wings together at his back but did not cause them to fold up yet. "Say, Jeremy, I thought only Eldritch knew how to work these Zhune gadgets?"
"He's the only one who can charge them up," Bane answered, peering at the esoteric markings on the rod but unable to make any sense of them. "Eldritch learned the secret knowledge of Zhune and so far no one else has figured it out. But once a relic is charged with the primal atomic fire, anyone can use it."
"And Avathor, of all people, has recovered this one," Weaver said. "Bad news any way you look at it."
"Wait." Sulak was digging his boots into the loose earth that they stood upon. "Is it my imagination...?"
Bane swung around sharply. It was the first time his friends had seen him with his nerves obviously on edge. "What?"
"There's something under this dirt, captain," the big Melgar said as he rubbed his toe to clear away a gleam of the coppery metal. "By the White Horse, look."
In the instant that all three Tel Shai knights were staring in horror down at the ground, at the opposite end of the yard a huge dark figure leaped up from concealment near the metal plate. Avathor's hand clamped down on the control rod and twisted the knob atop it. The night vanished in a glare of intolerable white light that no living eye could endure, there was a roaring rush like a river around them, and the three men fell to the ground as it they had been struck dead. Then everything faded to normal.
Standing on the steaming metal plate, watching his enemies drop senseless, Avathor could not restrain his laughter. The Gralic Leech was several inches over six feet high, his powerfully built body concealed in dark tunic and pants, with high riding boots. His skin was so deeply tanned as to itself resemble copper, but short-cropped blond hair lowered to a widow's-peak over blue eyes. Finally, he managed to control his laughter enough to speak.
" 'I teach you the Superman,'" he quoted in his booming voice. "'Man is something to be surpassed.' Nietzsche was foretelling ME!"
II.
In less than a minute, the three Tel Shai knights stirred and forced themselves upright with great effort. Weaver groaned, "My ears are ringing. Can you guys hear me?"
"Where's Avathor?" Bane demanded immediately, staring around from a seated position. "I only caught a glimpse of him." After a second, he relaxed down into a slump and rubbed his aching head. He began forcing himself to stand.
Nearby, Sulak had an extended coughing spell before seizing the vertical metal rod and using it to pull himself to his feet. "We are on a hidden metal plate just like the one Avathor was standing on, captain. He tricked us."
Bane suddenly understood as his head cleared. "That bastard. He lured us onto the second section of the Zhune device. Steve- Sulak? Do you guys feel normal?"
"No," said the big Melgar, stretching and flexing with a worried expression. "I seem so weak. No more than Human, no offense."
The Dire Wolf set himself, feet well apart, took a deep breath and whipped his revolver from the holster behind his left hip. Normally, his draw was so quick that an observer could not follow the motion. Now it took a full half second. He tried again, with no better results.
"Oh my God..." he whispered. "What did he do to us?"
"I can't lift off! I can't lift off!" wailed Black Angel in a distressed voice they had never heard from him before. "He took my flight power somehow."
"He stole ALL our special abilities," Bane said. "Alright, calm down. This is bad but we have to deal with it. We don't know where he went or how soon he'll come back here." Snapping the Link from his belt, the Dire Wolf called the headquarters building back on East 38th Street in Manhattan. "Cindy? This has to be quick. You have the CORBY warmed up and checked out?"
"Wheels up in three minutes," came a young woman's voice.
"Bring it to this location fast. Take risks being spotted if you have to. This is a crisis." With that, Bane broke the connection and returned the device to his belt.
"Man, I can see why you're leader of the team," Weaver said. "I'm still dazed by the whole situation."
Sulak went over to wrap his arms around an elm tree and tried to pull it up out of the ground, grunting and straining but getting no results. "This is intolerable!" he yelled. "Avathor must die for this insult. Jeremy, I hope you have a plan?"
"Hah!" Weaver scoffed as his nerves settled down a bit. "When does our Dire Wolf not have a plan?"
"Okay, listen," Bane told his teammates. "Steve and I both carry a multi-tool on our suits. Sulak, you help as much as you can. We need to start disassembling this Zhune machine into sections as small as we can manage."
They immediately set to work, taking the ancient device apart and stacking the various pieces in a single pile. Luckily, no bolts or clamps were in evidence. Zhune relics seemed to have been mostly assembled by screwing one carefully fitted part into another. They quickly had the artifact broken down into a stack, with the biggest remaining pieces being the two main circular plates.
As they worked, Weaver said, "Hey, cap, isn't this Avathor's gig in the first place? He's a Gralic Leech. He sucks gralic-based powers out of victims to use himself, right?"
"That's right," Bane answered. He was sorting out the various pieces of metal, which still felt painfully warm to the touch. "By himself, he needs an hour or so near the person to take their abilities. And those stolen abilities fade within a week and have to be replaced."
"But... but with this machine to do the stealing, how long will he keep our abilities?" Weaver asked.
Jeremy Bane shrugged. "I won't give you false hopes. There's no way to tell. Right now, Avathor is out there with all our abilities combined. He can fly, he's faster and stronger than Human. We've never had to face an enemy like that. What was that he yelled about teaching us the Superman?"
"That was a quote from Friedrich Nietzsche," Sulak muttered. "Ubermensch. Have you read Nietzsche?"
"Who?" asked Bane.
III.
Within another ten minutes, a black helicopter lowered silently from the sky. Without any external lights, making no more noise than a faint breeze overhead, the CORBY was almost impossible to spot at night until it was almost on top of them. The craft came to a soft landing fifty feet away, its top rotors slowing but not coming to complete stop.
The pressurized hatch on the cockpit hissed open and a small blonde woman in a field suit hopped nimbly down to the ground. "Jeremy?" she called. "What's going on? Your minds are all so upset I can't read them."
Bane rushed to her, gripped her briefly by the upper arms and immediately started sliding open the storage compartment toward the rear. "Explain in a few minutes, hon. Every second counts. Come on, guys, stow those parts."
Without speaking, rushing frantically, the four Tel Shai knights carried all the sections of the Zhune artifact and loaded them into the storage bin. As soon as he was certain nothing had been overlooked, the Dire Wolf turned to Cindy again. "Back in the pilot seat, Cin. Get going this instant. Take this stuff to Hawk Island. We'll explain on the way."
"But... wait...?" the blonde telepath began. Then she caught herself. "Whatever you say, Jeremy." She hauled herself back up in the cockpit, slid the hatch shut and pulled back on the stick. The CORBY shot straight up into the darkness, faster than it seemed a helicopter should be able to rise. In a second, it was gone from sight.
"The first time we fought Avathor, we kept him in the Brig on Hawk Island," Bane told the two men remaining beside him. "He knows where it is but he'll likely look for us at the 38th Street HQ first. Right now we have to worry about ourselves. Come on." He took off at a run back up the hill, but he was moving no faster than a normally athletic man. Used to seeing the Dire Wolf flash across ground in a blur faster than a real wolf, both Weaver and Sulak felt a cold distress seize them. It was the first time they were able to keep up with their captain on foot.
Jumping into the Subaru Outback they had left parked up by the road less than an hour ago, Bane took the wheel and went the way they had come at just past the speed limit. They were on the back roads just north of White Plains and traffic was light at this early hour.
"Captain," said Sulak after a breathless moment of watching trees whip past, "I know my strength and Steven's flight were gralic attributes. Flesh and blood cannot perform the deeds we do without a gralic charge to help. But I thought your speed was innate... that your body was just naturally quicker than a normal person's."
"I never knew one way or the other," Bane answered sourly. "It sure looks as if some of my ability was helped by gralic force. I guess that makes sense. Nerve impulses, muscle contraction, drawing on metabolic resources, these things all have upper limits I was used to constantly breaking."
In the back seat, next to the wings he had folded and detached, Weaver had the window down and his face out, scanning the skies. "No sign of that guy. I hope he didn't get a look at this car before."
"I don't think so," Bane said. "We were out of his line of sight." He unclipped his Link as he drove and made contact with his lover and closest friend as she was piloting the CORBY at near-MACH speed somewhere ahead. "Cindy? Hi. Thanks for coming so fast. Okay, here's the situation...."
After a minute of bringing her up to date, Bane heard the blonde telepath whistle. "This is gonna be rough," came her voice. "Listen, I'll stow these parts on Hawk Island and see which of our team is available. I think Karina might be in town. She mentioned visiting."
"I'm calling a red alert for everyone else to meet at 38th Street," the Dire Wolf said. "Avathor is a hedonist and self-indulgent. My fear is that he will go on a real rampage before even remembering to come after us."
Bane was driving south, back toward Manhattan. Daylight Savings Time had ended and they had more than an another hour before sunrise. In the front passenger seat, Sulak remained quiet for a while before speaking up hesitantly.
"I must ask, Jeremy," the big Melgar said. "I am no Midnight War scholar. Must we defeat Avathor to regain what is rightfully ours? Do we have to force him to stand on the Zhune machinery and reverse the process?"
"No, that's just about the only good aspect I can see." Bane entered upper Manhattan and sped down Lexington Avenue, pausing only for a second at stop lights and signs if he saw no police cars nearby. "Whenever Avathor has stolen someone's abilities, that person has eventually regained them. Sometimes it takes a while. Maybe months. But the gralic charge restores itself."
"That was just with Avathor's personal effect, though," Sulak said. "Not using this machine."
"No, using the machine changes everything. I don't know if the effect will last longer or even be permanent," the Dire Wolf admitted. "But! Remember one of the first things Teacher Chael told us when we started studying Kumundu? 'You cannot choose only the easy fights.'"
From the back, Weaver snorted. "Chael always gets to the point."
IV.
They made it to East 38th Street without incident. Weaver was monitoring police and news reports on the receivers in his helmet but heard nothing that could be related to Avathor. Bane turned left into the dead end alley and through the metal door which raised automatically as they approached. Down they went on a concrete ramp to an underground garage barely large enough for two cars. The other KDF vehicle was not there at the moment.
The Dire Wolf exhaled and got out of the Subaru gratefully. "Now we have a few minutes to think," he told his friends. "With the Yellow Shield under the front door, Avathor can't enter this building. We need to assemble every member we have and have a war council."
As they rushed along the corridor which led to the exit in a walk-in closet near the front door, then up the stairs to the second floor, Bane called on his Link again. "Cin? What's the situation?"
"Taxiing in to the hangar now," said her voice. "Standing by. What's going on with you boys?"
"We're at base, heading for the conference room. Secure the CORBY and stand by. Open meeting coming up."
"Okay, Jeremy. No point in telling you to be careful," she sighed.
Despite the situation, Bane had to smile. "It's never done any good so far."
As the three Tel Shai knights took seats at the long oak table which took up most of the conference room, Bane flicked on the cool fluorescent lights overhead. He paused as he heard the front slam below them. It could not be Avathor, he thought, not with the Yellow Shield right inside. No alarms sounded. It had to be a KDF member responding to the summons. He heard two distinct pairs of footfalls on the stairs. Bane waited, standing at the head of the table and watching the open hallway door.
Two very different men hurried in side by side. Garrison Nebel was older than most of his teammates, slight in build and quietly dressed, with light brown hair and tinted glasses which hid his blind eyes. Next to him, Kwali loomed up a half foot taller and much brawnier. The Danarakan warrior was very dark-skinned, with somber features in a square face and short-cropped hair. He was wearing black trousers and a plain white T-shirt, barefoot for some reason.
"We came as quickly as we could," rumbled Kwali, pulling out a chair for himself as Nebel went to an empty space next to him. The blind mystic moved as effortlessly and unerringly as if he had perfect vision.
"Glad to see you guys!" Bane said. He took his seat at the head of the table and pressed a few switches on a panel set before him. "I'm making this an open circuit for any member responding on their Link. Anybody else there?"
From the speakers overhead, a calm restrained voice answered, "Leonard Slade here. I am in conference with the Trom council and will be available for duty in twelve hours."
"This is Tang Ming. I'm in San Diego. Unless someone comes to get me, I'll have to settle for the first flight to New York I can catch."
"Okay, Ming. Proceed that way. We'll pick you up if we can. Anyone else?"
"Larry Taper reporting," came a voice. "Unfortunately, I am secluded in the Italian Alps on a dig into a hitherto unknown Megalithic culture. I also can only return by commercial airline, to my regret."
"Do your best," Bane said. "Anyone else? Khang? Jessica?"
"Ted here," said the Blue Guide. "I'm pulling the ER night shift at Metropolitan General. What with finishing reports before I can leave, I won't be able to report before nine, nine-fifteen at the earliest. Sorry."
"You're doing important work, Ted," replied Bane. "Get here when you can. Take care. Anyone else out there?"
There were no further replies. The Dire Wolf scowled and placed his hands palm down on the table in front of him. He had often thought of constructing a screen for the room on which the names of all KDF members would be listed, with a light beside each one to indicate if they were on duty, but he never seemed to get around to it. "And of course, no sign of Khang. Until we learn otherwise, we have to assume the remaining members are in adjacent realms where they can't be easily reached. Cindy, are you there?"
"Hear you loud and clear," said the telepath over the speakers.
"Good. I call this emergency meeting of the Kenneth Dred Foundation to order. Brothers and Sisters of Tel Shai, we are facing an enemy possibly more of a threat than any we have dealt with before. And making the situation worse, three of us have lost our enhanced abilities..."
V.
Dawn had broken before Bane felt they had covered all the needed data. Everyone now knew that Avathor was an exiled Melgar with a death sentence for sedition if he returned to Androval; that Avathor was a Gralic Leech, one of the rare beings capable of siphoning gralic force from victims and replicating their powers in his own body for a short while; and that he was an amoral plunderer with a long history of murder, rape and robbery for which he had never shown a hint of remorse.
The rare Zhune rartifacts were relics of an ancient civilization that had flourished immediately after the Darthan Age. They were based on a lost science which was called 'the ultimate secret of the Universe,' converting matter into energy and energy into matter in different forms. Only Karl Eldritch had ever figured this secret out, and if anything Eldritch was an even bigger menace than Avathor. Eldritch was a cold scheming planner where Avathor was an impulsive opportunist. So they had to worry as much as Eldritch turning up as they did about dealing with Avathor.
Finally, they reviewed the traits which had been stolen. Bane's reflexes and voluntary movements had been tested at just over twice the known Human limit, with briefly faster bursts possible. The limits of Sulak's strength and durability were not fully known, but he had survived wrapping himself over an exploding hand grenade without damage and he easily crumbled granite in his hands. How much he could lift had never been established, but recently he had thrown a Harley-Davidson motorcycle clear across a city street without seeming to strain himself. Stephen Weaver could levitate so well that he was in effect flying, with a top speed of over one hundred miles per hour and great manueverability. He could also use this ability in reverse, so to speak, and bear down with enough force to stop a car by making all four tires blow out.
Avathor had the abilities of these three men combined at the same time.
"He's like a living cannon shell," Cindy said over the speakers. "Have you guys ever heard of such an all-purpose bad guy? He's way over the top."
"Never!" snapped Kwali. The African avenger had been sitting with his chin resting in his cupper hands, elbow supporting it. The bright green eyes stood out vividly in the dark face, lambent cat's-eyes. "Not in all my studies of the Midnight War."
Bane straightened up. "If we ever needed Khang, this is it. But of course, he's nowhere to be found. Steve, I want you to check police and emergency calls to see if Avathor has been sighted anywhere. Garrison, I want you in your full outfit, especially the Eyeless Helmet, and start trying to locate our enemy. Kwali, same with the Cat's-Claw. See if it gives you any indication where Avathor might be."
"Any instructions for us?" asked Cindy.
"Absolutely. Listen, I'm going to send Sulak to Hawk Island by Gateway crystal, with everyone else following in a little bit. I want that Zhune mechanism reassembled. With any luck, it still retains enough of the atomic fire to work one more time."
"Well... okay," came her voice from overhead. "If you're sure that's really a good idea."
"I have a few ideas," the Dire Wolf, and the ominous undertone in his voice made everyone sit up a little and take heart. Whenever they had heard that tone in Bane's voice, it had meant impending disaster for their enemies.
On the other side of the room, Weaver removed his headphones and turned off their communications equipment. He came over to the table but did not sit down. "This is pretty bad, you guys. Listen. Two hours ago, a nineteen year old college student was running with her dog around the outer perimeter of Central Park. Brittney Morrison from SUNY. Two witnesses saw something big and dark snatch her up and take her away in an instant. They are so confused by the incident that they can't make a coherent statement. One thinks it must have been a giant bird or something that carried her away."
"Oh my God..." said Cindy's voice. "That poor girl."
"She's dead. It's over for her now," Weaver went on. "I don't even want to say this. Her body was found on the roof of a sixty-floor apartment building on 89th. Judging by the broken bones, she had been thrown from a considerable height. Her clothes had been removed, there were obvious indications of violent sexual assault." He pulled out a chair and plopped down heavily. "I feel sick just saying it."
Everyone turned to face Bane expectantly. The Dire Wolf said, "We don't waste time on threats or dramatic speeches. Let's get to work. Steve, Sulak, over by the Gateway crystal. Kwali, Gary, start searching."
VI.
The Sorcerer of Truth stepped up onto the roof of the KDF headquarters and raised his helmeted head to the morning sky. Nebel wore plain white tunic and pants, bound at the waist with a sash. His boots and gauntlets were of soft white leather. As he took his place, he drew the ankle-length cloak of golden silk around his body for protection. Those threads were interwoven with fine strands of ensalir, the silver blessed by the immortal Eldarin themselves. That cape was a potent shield against both physical blows and gralic bolts.
It was the Eyeless Helmet that shimmered in the sunlight and which would draw the eye of any observer. Crafted before even the Darthan Age thirty thousand years ago, it was a solid helm which covered his head completely and which had no eye openings.. just the outlines of eyes etched into the pale gold surface. Sagehelm, the Eyeless Helmet, was a focus for Truth in a metaphysical way. It enhanced its wearer's perception on every level. It also was capable of undoing malicious spells and restoring beings or objects to their original rightful states.
Nebel had not mentioned to the others he was going up to the roof. He was used to keeping his own counsel. The blind mystic hoped he could draw Avathor to him before any other victims were claimed, and he thought he could undo the effect of the Zhune relic to remove Avathor's stolen powers.
Turning his hidden face upward, letting his perception extend itself, the Sorcerer of Truth made himself a beacon of gralic force. The ancient helmet gleamed more brightly than the sunlight alone could explain. Within moments, its call was answered. Hurtling down from overhead was the bulk of a man in dark clothing. He rushed at Nebel like a missile. The blind mystic raised his gloved hands and readied to flare up the radiance of Sagehelm which would reduce the enemy to normal status. But he did not have the split-second needed.
Avathor roared past him at face level, one tight fist exploding against the Eyeless Helmet with a clang like a bell being rung. Nebel swung halfway around and fell heavily to the rooftop without even trying to catch himself. He dropped like a dead man. Avathor swung around to hover overhead.
The Gralic Leech's dark-tanned face was twisted up with rage. Those blue eyes held murder in them, yet he could not approach closer. This building had too many defenses, he could feel many potent Eldaran talismans repelling him. There was some sigil down at the ground level that was particularly forceful. If he touched down on the roof, he was afraid contact would kill him. And his aching right hand burned agonizingly where it had struck Sagehelm. That helmet was one of the most powerful talismans in the Midnight War. Even now, just looking at the helm made him feel sick and fearful. He wrung his injured fist with his other hand and scowled at the pain.
Avathor straightened his body and shot straight up into the air. He would settle with these Tel Shai dogs somewhere else. He was out of sight within a second.
The trap door in one corner of the roof slammed open and Jeremy Bane vaulted up from the staircase below like a real wolf leaping after prey. He held his long-barreled 38 Smith & Wesson in one hand, but he holstered it instantly. "Gary? Gary!" The Dire Wolf rushed over to crouch over the limp form. There was a weak pulse. He pressed his other palm to the blind mystic's chest and felt unsteady breathing. Bane cursed under his breath and tugged the golden helmet off with some difficulty. A deep dent on its left side showed where Avathor had struck and that had made the headpiece difficult to remove.
Garrison Nebel was stirring feebly but unable to speak or rise. The impact he had taken would have killed an unprotected Human. Even with the helmet to break the blow, he had suffered a mild concussion. Bane did not try to move his teammate just then. He knew that, as a Tel Shai knight, Nebel had been on a Tagra tea regimen for years. Its effects gave him enhanced healing that was bringing him back from the brink of sliding into a coma. With every second, Nebel regained a little more strength.
"I don't know if you can hear me," Bane said. "I hope so. Hang on. Don't let go. You'll recover fast if you just hold on."
As he spoke, the Dire Wolf felt a gloved hand grip his arm without much strength. Nebel was struggling to revive. His was a mind that was never completely subdued. The blind mystic's breathing was visibly stronger as his chest moved. Bane took his friend's pulse again and found it strong and normal at 70 beats per minute. That was a relief.
Behind them, Kwali approached. The giant African champion knelt beside Nebel and made his own examination. He thumbed open one of the blind mystic's eyes, but those opaque pupils were no help in determining a concussion. Kwali reached over and respectfully lifted Sagehelm, surprised at seeing the visible dent in the faceplate.
"I think he's going to recover," Bane told the Danarakan warrior. "Thank God for the Tagra diet. We've all survived so much because of Tagra. It's an effect Steve and Sulak and I still retain."
Kwali pulled Nebel's cloak from under the man and folded it to cushion his head. "My hatred of this Gralic Leech grows stronger every minute," he said. "We must confront him, captain."
"I have a plan," Bane told him.
"Wait... I just need a few minutes," Garrision Nebel whispered, trying to rise up but not succeeding. "Do not.. be distressed over me."
"You hold still, that's an order," Bane said sharply. "We are going to carry you down to our medical ward. Kwali, take the legs?"
"Certainly." The two of them lifted Nebel and gingerly manuevered him down the steep staircase from the roof. Bane had tucked the Eyeless Helmet under one arm. Directly below them was the hangar where one of the CORBYs was usually stored, and there was the elevator they rode down to the first floor. Just inside the front door on the ground level was their medical ward. Weaver saw them emerge and rushed over to help. They lowered Nebel onto one of the three regulation hospital beds, yanked off his tunic and hooked him up to standard monitors.
The equipment in the medical ward had been improved and upgraded by the Trom, but it was still recognizable for the most part. They took vitals and found heartbeat, blood pressure and blood oxygen levels were all good. Weaver wheeled over a flat electronic screen on a stand and pasted a few electrodes to Nebel's chest, wrists and ankles. A second later, readings appeared on the screen.
"I'm not a doctor like Ted," he announced quietly. "But the EKG looks regular as heck to me."
Bane came over and tapped some more commands into the apparatus. "Just a second. Let's compare. Yeah, it matches the one on file from his last physical. Still..."
Letting out a deep sigh, Nebel raised one hand in a placating gesture. "My friends, I will be fine. Trust me. My own perception would let me know if I had taken any serious injury."
The other KDF members gave each other wry half-smiles at that reassurance. Bane said, "Your helmet is going to need a little hammering out. I didn't think anything could dent it like that."
"Everything has its limits," Nebel admitted. "I do think I might rest a few more minutes."
"I'm ordering you to stay put until Dr Wright gets here and clears you for duty, Garrison. That's speaking as your Tel Shai captain." Bane turned to Kwali and Weaver. "You two should join the others at Hawk Island. We're safe enough in this building, since Avathor can't defy the Yellow Shield or the other Eldar talismans. But we can't stay here. We have to face him right now. He has to be stopped."
Out in the front hall, standing at the bottom of the wide staircase which led up to the second floor, Black Angel snapped his fingers. "Wait. I also caught another sighting of our bad guy. At a credit union up by 110th Street. Let me paraphrase. A big dark-skinned guy with a blond crewcut ripped open an ATM with his hands. He shoved wads of money into all his pockets and had his hands full of it. When someone got in his way, he elbowed the poor sap aside and broke three ribs. No one saw him leave."
"Avathor had his fun with rape and murder last night," Bane grumbled. "Now he's satisfied with mere robbery. I hope some cop doesn't try to take a shot at him, Avathor will kill him in a blink."
"We're heading to the island, Jeremy," Weaver said as he trotted up the stairs. Kwali followed, turning his stern face back to his leader. "Take heart! This monster has not yet faced the Black Lion, captain."
VII.
Rocketing up the East Coast, Avathor fumed with a fiercer sense of grievance than he had ever felt before. To his way of thinking, he deserved whatever he desired. The fools of Tel Shai were unfairly standing in his way and he swore to himself they would all be dead before sunset. He had planned a victory feast with the three retainers who served him, but that would have to wait.
And yet.. it was difficult to stay enraged. The sheer exuberance of his new physical attributes was exhilarating. He was flying under his own power, hundreds of feet above the cold Atlantic which sparkled in the sunlight. This required concentration and was not effortless by any means, but it was an incredibly liberating experience. Feeling the lightning speed and steel-smashing strength roar through his body, Avathor fought back an urge to laugh in triumph. He still wore the polished riding boots and dark pants, but had changed to a white dress shirt left unbuttoned almost to the waist. He was vain and showed off his body as much for his own admiration as for others.
Perhaps he should return to Androval, despite his exile. What could they do to him? He was invincible. He could slay the entire army without being scratched. How satisfying it would be to crash into the royal court, to snap King Holmir's neck personally and take the crown for himself. Why not? Who could stop him? Avathor the First. Any beautiful woman that caught his eye, any fine cuisine or art treasures would be his. He could sit on a mountain of gold coins if he chose.
But first, those Tel Shai dogs. The Dire Wolf, that damned Sulak, the others. Once they were dead, he could plan his conquests in detail.
Below him, he saw a small rocky island. Avathor slowed his flight, arching his body like a diver to descend. He had never seen Hawk Island from above, of course, but he remembered the shape of the building he had escaped from. Yes. There was the hangar and the boathouse. The Gralic Leech grinned in anticipation. He came down way too fast, not having Weaver's years of practice and control, and hit the ground with a force that drove his feet into the rocky soil up to the ankles. Avathor kicked free and glared around.
He could see that vile black helicopter showing within the open hangar door, so some of his enemies must be here.
No one seemed to be in sight. The Gralic Leech began striding toward the hangar in increasing frustration, thinking he could at least destroy this facility. Then he saw a tall African in skin-tight black cotton tunic and leggings emerge from behind the building to stand watching him. The man strangely had pale green eyes that caught the sunlight as the eyes of a cat would. Those eyes watched him without fear.
"I don't know you," Avathor announced. "Where is the Dire Wolf? Where is Sulak?"
"Worry about yourself," answered the man, stepping lightly forward. "I am Bakwanga Kwali, the Cat's-Claw, heir to Wakimbe himself. And this is the hour of your death."
The deadly calm in the man's voice was unsettling but the Gralic Leech still did not take him seriously. As Kwali moved closer, Avathor doubled his fists and decided to keep this man alive for a while. He wanted to get some information first.
In an instant, Kwali dropped forward onto all fours and his body swelled up, changed form and lunged forward. A midnight-furred cat bigger than a horse pounced on Avathor. The Black Lion swatted out one huge paw that flung the Gralic Leech violently aside to crash against a rocky outcropping. Avathor's body cracked the stone and left an imprint.
Throwing back its maned head, green eyes flaring with their own lambent light, the Black Lion let out a roar that echoed for miles. Not since prehistoric times had such a challenge been sounded in that area. Rising unharmed, Avathor stared with bulging eyes despite himself at the great beast. The sheer presence of the creature was overwhelming.
Then he caught himself. Lifting up off the ground, the Gralic Leech shot forward to dive headlong onto the Black Lion. They rolled furiously over and over, with Avathor seizing one of the giant beast's forepaws in each hand and pulling them out to the sides. Huge jaws clamped down around his head and shoulders, fangs seven inches long dug into his flesh. Wresting himself free, Avathor managed a wide roundhouse blow that cracked to the side of the maned head and threw the beast off him.
The Black Lion rumbled deep in its chest and crouched. Avathor gingerly touched his shoulders and neck where his skin had been broken, shocked that anything could harm him with his new powers. Again, he flew straight forward to tackle the giant creature, fists pounding with a sound like cannons firing. Driven back a few steps, the Black Lion reared up on its hind legs and came down with a thump to pin its enemy beneath a massive paw harder than stone.
In those few seconds, Avathor realized he could not harm his enemy. The Black Lion was not flesh and blood, but a gralic construct. On the other hand, even with the stolen power from Sulak, Avathor was still mortal. His wounds stung and he felt he might weaken as he bled. Drawing up both legs, he thrust them up and managed to throw the great cat off him. The Gralic Leech cast himself up into the air, barely escaping the clash of huge fangs beneath his heels as the Black Lion leaped up its own length and tried to bite him in half.
Avathor hovered up out of reach, touching his gouged shoulders and feeling hot wetness. He had never been so outraged. The Gralic Leech arched his body and dove down to seize the gigantic beast by its hind legs. Using all of Weaver's levitating ability, he rose up and flashed out over the island. Even as the cat twisted and contorted in a furious effort to reach him, Avathor hurtled out over the Atlantic. The strain was incredible. Lifting the Black Lion was at the very upper limit of his stolen flight power, only the usurped strength in his arms enabled him to hold on.
He managed to get three miles out to sea before he felt the beast wriggling loose from his grasp. Still moving at high speed, he whirled around in a tight circle and let go. The Black Lion spun up high and then plummeted down to hit the ocean surface with a geyser of cold water. Its roar of defiance was cut short as it sank out of sight.
"Hah! You are dealing with the true superman now!" Fingering his wounds gingerly, Avathor had a discouraged feeling that he had only bought some time. He doubted that monster could drown, it probaby didn't even need to breathe and could walk back on the bottom of the ocean. He worried that he himself was still bleeding, although it seemed to be easing. The Gralic Leech set himself, swung around in mid-air and started flying back toward Hawk Island. If any of the Tel Shai knights were there, he would relish finishing them off.
VIII.
By the time he made it back to the island, Avathor was weary. His wounds had stopped bleeding but they still stung and he ached from bruises. That monster cat would have been able to kill him in a few more minutes. He was shaken by the realization that he was not completely invincible, after all.
The Gralic Leech touched down near the helicopter and exhaled sadly. His expensive silk shirt hung in strips, one sleeve attached only at the cuff. His exposed skin had been tanned by exposure so long that it seemed a bit dry and damaged, its darkness contrasting oddly with the blue eyes and blond widow's-peak. Avathor caught his breath and decided to start smashing the facilities here. Not only would he demoralize his enemies, he might well find some valuable talismans that Tel Shai had been hoarding.
Strange, that tent by the hangar. A large olive-green tent eight feet to a side. He had not noticed it before. What was that glitter he spotted a few yard away from the tent, in that circle of dug up earth? He should have been more cautious, he knew Bane had a reputation for trickery and misdirection, but Avathor felt a strange compulsion to investigate that glitter. He had to see what it was.
The Melgar exile strode over and knelt beside an open chamois bag that had spilled out a dozen blue-white diamonds. He knew gems. These were valuable. Avathor dropped to both knees, picking the largest diamond to hold it up to the sun. Only then, when it was too late, did he realize what a mistake he had made.
Even in the brilliant morning sunshine, the white flare which enveloped him blotted out all vision. As the roaring noise faded, Avathor sank to his knees and then fell over on his side. From within the tent, Jeremy Bane emerged and spoke into his Link.
"Cindy, search and rescue for Kwali! He may still be in the lion body, swimming back here," he snapped.
"On my way," the telepath replied. From within the hangar, the CORBY taxied out with its rotors beginning to rotate. The black helicopter rolled a short distance and then rose sharply to head out to sea with startling acceleration.
Coming over to stand by the stunned Avathor, Weaver and Sulak glared down angrily. Bane judged that the Gralic Leech would not be an immediate threat, and he turned to his two friends. "You guys feel back to normal?"
"Absolutely," answered Sulak, swinging his arms and grinning. "And a great relief it is, too."
"My abilities are back, too," Black Angel said. He cradled his helmet in the crook of one arm. "That was a risky gamble, captain."
"I wasn't happy with our chances, to be honest." The Dire Wolf had drawn his 38 S&W and was covering Avathor with it at point-blank range. "If that Zhune artifact hadn't worked right... or its charge had faded too low to activate, I think this goon would have been able to rip us apart and we wouldn't have been able to stop him. We were damn lucky to get him to stand where the transfer plate was hidden as it was."
Sulak was stretching and testing himself but he stopped at a thought. "What would have happened if our attributes had been returned to the wrong person?"
"I guess we would just have to adjust to the change," the Dire Wolf said. "You'd be fast, I'd be flying. Steve would be strong. We'd have to work with it."
Gazing at in the direction where the CORBY had disappeared, Weaver asked, "Was Cindy using her powers to steer him? I distinctly felt that telepathic tickle in the back of my head."
"Yeah," Bane replied absently. "She was guiding him to be curious about the diamonds. Those are real diamonds, by the way. We recovered them in Golgora's loot but no one knows who they belong to."
"This guy is too dangerous to take chances with," Weaver said. "It would be just prudent to execute him here and now. But I can't do it. After what I saw in my second tour of duty... what they made us do over there..."
"I can't kill in cold blood either," Bane told them. "Maybe I'm not hard enough for the Midnight War, but executing someone like that just isn't in me. I'd never sleep at night again."
Sulak waved a dismissing hand. "This is not a problem, my friends. Avathor is a fellow Melgar with a sentence already on his head. I will bring him back to Androval myself and tell of these deeds. After what he did to that poor Human woman, I have no doubt he will kneel on the executioner's block within the day."
The Black Angel sighed and moved a little away to sit down on the rocky soil. "I keep thinking about that girl, too. Brittney Morrison, only nineteen. She had her life ahead of her and now..."
"There is something very wrong in Avathor's mind," Sulak said. "In Androval, they say those are like him have been born without a soul. Humans call them sociopaths, I think. They know right from wrong but they don't care."
As the Gralic Leech groaned and began to revive, the Dire Wolf kept his gun trained dead steady. "Some superman," he said.
3/22/2017
5/28-5/30/1988
I.
Folding the artificial batlike wings of red silk over aluminum tubing against his back, Stephen Weaver dropped his legs beneath him and landed lightly next to his teammates. The Black Angel stepped closer to Bane and Sulak, keeping his voice low. "There's some weird Zhune mechanism in the back yard, all right. I didn't spot any sentries."
Watching the cottage halfway down the hill from where they stood concealed in the trees, Jeremy Bane did not answer at once. "I haven't seen any movement down there either. I hoped we would get here before Avathor returned."
The third member of the Tel Shai knights loomed up over his friends. Sulak of Androval was only an inch or two taller than his partners, but he was an imposing mass of hard-defined muscle with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. The Melgar was wearing his traditional arena uniform of Royal blue tunic and leggings with white gloves, short boots and sash around his waist. He looked like the gladiator he was. Impressive as he appeared, even that did not hint at the superhuman strength in his body... the Legacy of Malberon.
"We should simply march down there and claim the Zhune apparatus," said the big Melgar. "Avathor being here is bad enough but if Karl Eldritch should show up...!"
Bane made an angry snort. "Our biggest fear, all right. Eldritch has been searching for Zhune relics for years. Every time he locates one, there's a disaster we barely survive." The Dire Wolf was a lean, taut man in the black field suit fitted with a dozen weapons and gimmicks. His grey eyes were unsettling at best but now they were actively intimidating.
Standing next to him, Weaver had unfastened his crested helmet and lifted it off for the moment. He was an American black man with a rather friendly, open face and thoughtful eyes. A thick mustache was his attempt to draw attention away from a slightly large nose. "I've never met this Avathor, captain. As I understand it, he's a Gralic Leech."
"He was a Melgar," Sulak grumbled, "But he was disowned by our King. Now he is a renegade and outcast without honor. Avathor is a living shame to my Race."
The Dire Wolf began moving toward the edge of the hill. Behind them, the remote back road was empty at four in the morning. They hadn't seen another vehicle pass in the hour they had been here watching the cottage set halfway down the hill. To their side was a walk made of flat shale slabs set in the ground, but Bane stayed well away from it. "Sulak, I want you with me. Steve, you should get in the air again and circle around to watch us from the opposite side of the yard. If there's trouble, you're back-up."
"Got it, captain," replied the Black Angel. He lowered the helmet on again, fastened its latches and checked the 45 automatic in the flap holster at his belt. At a command electronically relayed from the muscles in his back, the artifical wings rustled open to their full eight foot span. Without crouching or seeming effort, Weaver shot silently and smoothly straight up into the night air. He was the most gifted levitator known. The secret USAF Black Angel Project had never located another person near his level. Most levitators could barely rise an inch or two off the ground. Weaver could fly.
In the open back yard, where the grass had not started to grow yet after a long winter, a raised round plate of some coppery metal had been set up. It was three feet across and had a single vertical pole rising up to end in a round knob at chest height. The plate itself was incised with intricate patterns that seemed almost like a diagram. From one side of the apparatus, two thick cables of the red metal stretched across the yard to end with a small raised stand from which an identical rod stood up.
"Careful, careful," Bane grumbled. "Stay alert. Let's not jump into this. We'll inspect this outer control first." With Sulak beside him, the Dire Wolf stood near the rod which rose by itself away from the ground plate. "This knob on top activates the mechanism, I guess...."
Swooping down to join them, Black Angel brought his wings together at his back but did not cause them to fold up yet. "Say, Jeremy, I thought only Eldritch knew how to work these Zhune gadgets?"
"He's the only one who can charge them up," Bane answered, peering at the esoteric markings on the rod but unable to make any sense of them. "Eldritch learned the secret knowledge of Zhune and so far no one else has figured it out. But once a relic is charged with the primal atomic fire, anyone can use it."
"And Avathor, of all people, has recovered this one," Weaver said. "Bad news any way you look at it."
"Wait." Sulak was digging his boots into the loose earth that they stood upon. "Is it my imagination...?"
Bane swung around sharply. It was the first time his friends had seen him with his nerves obviously on edge. "What?"
"There's something under this dirt, captain," the big Melgar said as he rubbed his toe to clear away a gleam of the coppery metal. "By the White Horse, look."
In the instant that all three Tel Shai knights were staring in horror down at the ground, at the opposite end of the yard a huge dark figure leaped up from concealment near the metal plate. Avathor's hand clamped down on the control rod and twisted the knob atop it. The night vanished in a glare of intolerable white light that no living eye could endure, there was a roaring rush like a river around them, and the three men fell to the ground as it they had been struck dead. Then everything faded to normal.
Standing on the steaming metal plate, watching his enemies drop senseless, Avathor could not restrain his laughter. The Gralic Leech was several inches over six feet high, his powerfully built body concealed in dark tunic and pants, with high riding boots. His skin was so deeply tanned as to itself resemble copper, but short-cropped blond hair lowered to a widow's-peak over blue eyes. Finally, he managed to control his laughter enough to speak.
" 'I teach you the Superman,'" he quoted in his booming voice. "'Man is something to be surpassed.' Nietzsche was foretelling ME!"
II.
In less than a minute, the three Tel Shai knights stirred and forced themselves upright with great effort. Weaver groaned, "My ears are ringing. Can you guys hear me?"
"Where's Avathor?" Bane demanded immediately, staring around from a seated position. "I only caught a glimpse of him." After a second, he relaxed down into a slump and rubbed his aching head. He began forcing himself to stand.
Nearby, Sulak had an extended coughing spell before seizing the vertical metal rod and using it to pull himself to his feet. "We are on a hidden metal plate just like the one Avathor was standing on, captain. He tricked us."
Bane suddenly understood as his head cleared. "That bastard. He lured us onto the second section of the Zhune device. Steve- Sulak? Do you guys feel normal?"
"No," said the big Melgar, stretching and flexing with a worried expression. "I seem so weak. No more than Human, no offense."
The Dire Wolf set himself, feet well apart, took a deep breath and whipped his revolver from the holster behind his left hip. Normally, his draw was so quick that an observer could not follow the motion. Now it took a full half second. He tried again, with no better results.
"Oh my God..." he whispered. "What did he do to us?"
"I can't lift off! I can't lift off!" wailed Black Angel in a distressed voice they had never heard from him before. "He took my flight power somehow."
"He stole ALL our special abilities," Bane said. "Alright, calm down. This is bad but we have to deal with it. We don't know where he went or how soon he'll come back here." Snapping the Link from his belt, the Dire Wolf called the headquarters building back on East 38th Street in Manhattan. "Cindy? This has to be quick. You have the CORBY warmed up and checked out?"
"Wheels up in three minutes," came a young woman's voice.
"Bring it to this location fast. Take risks being spotted if you have to. This is a crisis." With that, Bane broke the connection and returned the device to his belt.
"Man, I can see why you're leader of the team," Weaver said. "I'm still dazed by the whole situation."
Sulak went over to wrap his arms around an elm tree and tried to pull it up out of the ground, grunting and straining but getting no results. "This is intolerable!" he yelled. "Avathor must die for this insult. Jeremy, I hope you have a plan?"
"Hah!" Weaver scoffed as his nerves settled down a bit. "When does our Dire Wolf not have a plan?"
"Okay, listen," Bane told his teammates. "Steve and I both carry a multi-tool on our suits. Sulak, you help as much as you can. We need to start disassembling this Zhune machine into sections as small as we can manage."
They immediately set to work, taking the ancient device apart and stacking the various pieces in a single pile. Luckily, no bolts or clamps were in evidence. Zhune relics seemed to have been mostly assembled by screwing one carefully fitted part into another. They quickly had the artifact broken down into a stack, with the biggest remaining pieces being the two main circular plates.
As they worked, Weaver said, "Hey, cap, isn't this Avathor's gig in the first place? He's a Gralic Leech. He sucks gralic-based powers out of victims to use himself, right?"
"That's right," Bane answered. He was sorting out the various pieces of metal, which still felt painfully warm to the touch. "By himself, he needs an hour or so near the person to take their abilities. And those stolen abilities fade within a week and have to be replaced."
"But... but with this machine to do the stealing, how long will he keep our abilities?" Weaver asked.
Jeremy Bane shrugged. "I won't give you false hopes. There's no way to tell. Right now, Avathor is out there with all our abilities combined. He can fly, he's faster and stronger than Human. We've never had to face an enemy like that. What was that he yelled about teaching us the Superman?"
"That was a quote from Friedrich Nietzsche," Sulak muttered. "Ubermensch. Have you read Nietzsche?"
"Who?" asked Bane.
III.
Within another ten minutes, a black helicopter lowered silently from the sky. Without any external lights, making no more noise than a faint breeze overhead, the CORBY was almost impossible to spot at night until it was almost on top of them. The craft came to a soft landing fifty feet away, its top rotors slowing but not coming to complete stop.
The pressurized hatch on the cockpit hissed open and a small blonde woman in a field suit hopped nimbly down to the ground. "Jeremy?" she called. "What's going on? Your minds are all so upset I can't read them."
Bane rushed to her, gripped her briefly by the upper arms and immediately started sliding open the storage compartment toward the rear. "Explain in a few minutes, hon. Every second counts. Come on, guys, stow those parts."
Without speaking, rushing frantically, the four Tel Shai knights carried all the sections of the Zhune artifact and loaded them into the storage bin. As soon as he was certain nothing had been overlooked, the Dire Wolf turned to Cindy again. "Back in the pilot seat, Cin. Get going this instant. Take this stuff to Hawk Island. We'll explain on the way."
"But... wait...?" the blonde telepath began. Then she caught herself. "Whatever you say, Jeremy." She hauled herself back up in the cockpit, slid the hatch shut and pulled back on the stick. The CORBY shot straight up into the darkness, faster than it seemed a helicopter should be able to rise. In a second, it was gone from sight.
"The first time we fought Avathor, we kept him in the Brig on Hawk Island," Bane told the two men remaining beside him. "He knows where it is but he'll likely look for us at the 38th Street HQ first. Right now we have to worry about ourselves. Come on." He took off at a run back up the hill, but he was moving no faster than a normally athletic man. Used to seeing the Dire Wolf flash across ground in a blur faster than a real wolf, both Weaver and Sulak felt a cold distress seize them. It was the first time they were able to keep up with their captain on foot.
Jumping into the Subaru Outback they had left parked up by the road less than an hour ago, Bane took the wheel and went the way they had come at just past the speed limit. They were on the back roads just north of White Plains and traffic was light at this early hour.
"Captain," said Sulak after a breathless moment of watching trees whip past, "I know my strength and Steven's flight were gralic attributes. Flesh and blood cannot perform the deeds we do without a gralic charge to help. But I thought your speed was innate... that your body was just naturally quicker than a normal person's."
"I never knew one way or the other," Bane answered sourly. "It sure looks as if some of my ability was helped by gralic force. I guess that makes sense. Nerve impulses, muscle contraction, drawing on metabolic resources, these things all have upper limits I was used to constantly breaking."
In the back seat, next to the wings he had folded and detached, Weaver had the window down and his face out, scanning the skies. "No sign of that guy. I hope he didn't get a look at this car before."
"I don't think so," Bane said. "We were out of his line of sight." He unclipped his Link as he drove and made contact with his lover and closest friend as she was piloting the CORBY at near-MACH speed somewhere ahead. "Cindy? Hi. Thanks for coming so fast. Okay, here's the situation...."
After a minute of bringing her up to date, Bane heard the blonde telepath whistle. "This is gonna be rough," came her voice. "Listen, I'll stow these parts on Hawk Island and see which of our team is available. I think Karina might be in town. She mentioned visiting."
"I'm calling a red alert for everyone else to meet at 38th Street," the Dire Wolf said. "Avathor is a hedonist and self-indulgent. My fear is that he will go on a real rampage before even remembering to come after us."
Bane was driving south, back toward Manhattan. Daylight Savings Time had ended and they had more than an another hour before sunrise. In the front passenger seat, Sulak remained quiet for a while before speaking up hesitantly.
"I must ask, Jeremy," the big Melgar said. "I am no Midnight War scholar. Must we defeat Avathor to regain what is rightfully ours? Do we have to force him to stand on the Zhune machinery and reverse the process?"
"No, that's just about the only good aspect I can see." Bane entered upper Manhattan and sped down Lexington Avenue, pausing only for a second at stop lights and signs if he saw no police cars nearby. "Whenever Avathor has stolen someone's abilities, that person has eventually regained them. Sometimes it takes a while. Maybe months. But the gralic charge restores itself."
"That was just with Avathor's personal effect, though," Sulak said. "Not using this machine."
"No, using the machine changes everything. I don't know if the effect will last longer or even be permanent," the Dire Wolf admitted. "But! Remember one of the first things Teacher Chael told us when we started studying Kumundu? 'You cannot choose only the easy fights.'"
From the back, Weaver snorted. "Chael always gets to the point."
IV.
They made it to East 38th Street without incident. Weaver was monitoring police and news reports on the receivers in his helmet but heard nothing that could be related to Avathor. Bane turned left into the dead end alley and through the metal door which raised automatically as they approached. Down they went on a concrete ramp to an underground garage barely large enough for two cars. The other KDF vehicle was not there at the moment.
The Dire Wolf exhaled and got out of the Subaru gratefully. "Now we have a few minutes to think," he told his friends. "With the Yellow Shield under the front door, Avathor can't enter this building. We need to assemble every member we have and have a war council."
As they rushed along the corridor which led to the exit in a walk-in closet near the front door, then up the stairs to the second floor, Bane called on his Link again. "Cin? What's the situation?"
"Taxiing in to the hangar now," said her voice. "Standing by. What's going on with you boys?"
"We're at base, heading for the conference room. Secure the CORBY and stand by. Open meeting coming up."
"Okay, Jeremy. No point in telling you to be careful," she sighed.
Despite the situation, Bane had to smile. "It's never done any good so far."
As the three Tel Shai knights took seats at the long oak table which took up most of the conference room, Bane flicked on the cool fluorescent lights overhead. He paused as he heard the front slam below them. It could not be Avathor, he thought, not with the Yellow Shield right inside. No alarms sounded. It had to be a KDF member responding to the summons. He heard two distinct pairs of footfalls on the stairs. Bane waited, standing at the head of the table and watching the open hallway door.
Two very different men hurried in side by side. Garrison Nebel was older than most of his teammates, slight in build and quietly dressed, with light brown hair and tinted glasses which hid his blind eyes. Next to him, Kwali loomed up a half foot taller and much brawnier. The Danarakan warrior was very dark-skinned, with somber features in a square face and short-cropped hair. He was wearing black trousers and a plain white T-shirt, barefoot for some reason.
"We came as quickly as we could," rumbled Kwali, pulling out a chair for himself as Nebel went to an empty space next to him. The blind mystic moved as effortlessly and unerringly as if he had perfect vision.
"Glad to see you guys!" Bane said. He took his seat at the head of the table and pressed a few switches on a panel set before him. "I'm making this an open circuit for any member responding on their Link. Anybody else there?"
From the speakers overhead, a calm restrained voice answered, "Leonard Slade here. I am in conference with the Trom council and will be available for duty in twelve hours."
"This is Tang Ming. I'm in San Diego. Unless someone comes to get me, I'll have to settle for the first flight to New York I can catch."
"Okay, Ming. Proceed that way. We'll pick you up if we can. Anyone else?"
"Larry Taper reporting," came a voice. "Unfortunately, I am secluded in the Italian Alps on a dig into a hitherto unknown Megalithic culture. I also can only return by commercial airline, to my regret."
"Do your best," Bane said. "Anyone else? Khang? Jessica?"
"Ted here," said the Blue Guide. "I'm pulling the ER night shift at Metropolitan General. What with finishing reports before I can leave, I won't be able to report before nine, nine-fifteen at the earliest. Sorry."
"You're doing important work, Ted," replied Bane. "Get here when you can. Take care. Anyone else out there?"
There were no further replies. The Dire Wolf scowled and placed his hands palm down on the table in front of him. He had often thought of constructing a screen for the room on which the names of all KDF members would be listed, with a light beside each one to indicate if they were on duty, but he never seemed to get around to it. "And of course, no sign of Khang. Until we learn otherwise, we have to assume the remaining members are in adjacent realms where they can't be easily reached. Cindy, are you there?"
"Hear you loud and clear," said the telepath over the speakers.
"Good. I call this emergency meeting of the Kenneth Dred Foundation to order. Brothers and Sisters of Tel Shai, we are facing an enemy possibly more of a threat than any we have dealt with before. And making the situation worse, three of us have lost our enhanced abilities..."
V.
Dawn had broken before Bane felt they had covered all the needed data. Everyone now knew that Avathor was an exiled Melgar with a death sentence for sedition if he returned to Androval; that Avathor was a Gralic Leech, one of the rare beings capable of siphoning gralic force from victims and replicating their powers in his own body for a short while; and that he was an amoral plunderer with a long history of murder, rape and robbery for which he had never shown a hint of remorse.
The rare Zhune rartifacts were relics of an ancient civilization that had flourished immediately after the Darthan Age. They were based on a lost science which was called 'the ultimate secret of the Universe,' converting matter into energy and energy into matter in different forms. Only Karl Eldritch had ever figured this secret out, and if anything Eldritch was an even bigger menace than Avathor. Eldritch was a cold scheming planner where Avathor was an impulsive opportunist. So they had to worry as much as Eldritch turning up as they did about dealing with Avathor.
Finally, they reviewed the traits which had been stolen. Bane's reflexes and voluntary movements had been tested at just over twice the known Human limit, with briefly faster bursts possible. The limits of Sulak's strength and durability were not fully known, but he had survived wrapping himself over an exploding hand grenade without damage and he easily crumbled granite in his hands. How much he could lift had never been established, but recently he had thrown a Harley-Davidson motorcycle clear across a city street without seeming to strain himself. Stephen Weaver could levitate so well that he was in effect flying, with a top speed of over one hundred miles per hour and great manueverability. He could also use this ability in reverse, so to speak, and bear down with enough force to stop a car by making all four tires blow out.
Avathor had the abilities of these three men combined at the same time.
"He's like a living cannon shell," Cindy said over the speakers. "Have you guys ever heard of such an all-purpose bad guy? He's way over the top."
"Never!" snapped Kwali. The African avenger had been sitting with his chin resting in his cupper hands, elbow supporting it. The bright green eyes stood out vividly in the dark face, lambent cat's-eyes. "Not in all my studies of the Midnight War."
Bane straightened up. "If we ever needed Khang, this is it. But of course, he's nowhere to be found. Steve, I want you to check police and emergency calls to see if Avathor has been sighted anywhere. Garrison, I want you in your full outfit, especially the Eyeless Helmet, and start trying to locate our enemy. Kwali, same with the Cat's-Claw. See if it gives you any indication where Avathor might be."
"Any instructions for us?" asked Cindy.
"Absolutely. Listen, I'm going to send Sulak to Hawk Island by Gateway crystal, with everyone else following in a little bit. I want that Zhune mechanism reassembled. With any luck, it still retains enough of the atomic fire to work one more time."
"Well... okay," came her voice from overhead. "If you're sure that's really a good idea."
"I have a few ideas," the Dire Wolf, and the ominous undertone in his voice made everyone sit up a little and take heart. Whenever they had heard that tone in Bane's voice, it had meant impending disaster for their enemies.
On the other side of the room, Weaver removed his headphones and turned off their communications equipment. He came over to the table but did not sit down. "This is pretty bad, you guys. Listen. Two hours ago, a nineteen year old college student was running with her dog around the outer perimeter of Central Park. Brittney Morrison from SUNY. Two witnesses saw something big and dark snatch her up and take her away in an instant. They are so confused by the incident that they can't make a coherent statement. One thinks it must have been a giant bird or something that carried her away."
"Oh my God..." said Cindy's voice. "That poor girl."
"She's dead. It's over for her now," Weaver went on. "I don't even want to say this. Her body was found on the roof of a sixty-floor apartment building on 89th. Judging by the broken bones, she had been thrown from a considerable height. Her clothes had been removed, there were obvious indications of violent sexual assault." He pulled out a chair and plopped down heavily. "I feel sick just saying it."
Everyone turned to face Bane expectantly. The Dire Wolf said, "We don't waste time on threats or dramatic speeches. Let's get to work. Steve, Sulak, over by the Gateway crystal. Kwali, Gary, start searching."
VI.
The Sorcerer of Truth stepped up onto the roof of the KDF headquarters and raised his helmeted head to the morning sky. Nebel wore plain white tunic and pants, bound at the waist with a sash. His boots and gauntlets were of soft white leather. As he took his place, he drew the ankle-length cloak of golden silk around his body for protection. Those threads were interwoven with fine strands of ensalir, the silver blessed by the immortal Eldarin themselves. That cape was a potent shield against both physical blows and gralic bolts.
It was the Eyeless Helmet that shimmered in the sunlight and which would draw the eye of any observer. Crafted before even the Darthan Age thirty thousand years ago, it was a solid helm which covered his head completely and which had no eye openings.. just the outlines of eyes etched into the pale gold surface. Sagehelm, the Eyeless Helmet, was a focus for Truth in a metaphysical way. It enhanced its wearer's perception on every level. It also was capable of undoing malicious spells and restoring beings or objects to their original rightful states.
Nebel had not mentioned to the others he was going up to the roof. He was used to keeping his own counsel. The blind mystic hoped he could draw Avathor to him before any other victims were claimed, and he thought he could undo the effect of the Zhune relic to remove Avathor's stolen powers.
Turning his hidden face upward, letting his perception extend itself, the Sorcerer of Truth made himself a beacon of gralic force. The ancient helmet gleamed more brightly than the sunlight alone could explain. Within moments, its call was answered. Hurtling down from overhead was the bulk of a man in dark clothing. He rushed at Nebel like a missile. The blind mystic raised his gloved hands and readied to flare up the radiance of Sagehelm which would reduce the enemy to normal status. But he did not have the split-second needed.
Avathor roared past him at face level, one tight fist exploding against the Eyeless Helmet with a clang like a bell being rung. Nebel swung halfway around and fell heavily to the rooftop without even trying to catch himself. He dropped like a dead man. Avathor swung around to hover overhead.
The Gralic Leech's dark-tanned face was twisted up with rage. Those blue eyes held murder in them, yet he could not approach closer. This building had too many defenses, he could feel many potent Eldaran talismans repelling him. There was some sigil down at the ground level that was particularly forceful. If he touched down on the roof, he was afraid contact would kill him. And his aching right hand burned agonizingly where it had struck Sagehelm. That helmet was one of the most powerful talismans in the Midnight War. Even now, just looking at the helm made him feel sick and fearful. He wrung his injured fist with his other hand and scowled at the pain.
Avathor straightened his body and shot straight up into the air. He would settle with these Tel Shai dogs somewhere else. He was out of sight within a second.
The trap door in one corner of the roof slammed open and Jeremy Bane vaulted up from the staircase below like a real wolf leaping after prey. He held his long-barreled 38 Smith & Wesson in one hand, but he holstered it instantly. "Gary? Gary!" The Dire Wolf rushed over to crouch over the limp form. There was a weak pulse. He pressed his other palm to the blind mystic's chest and felt unsteady breathing. Bane cursed under his breath and tugged the golden helmet off with some difficulty. A deep dent on its left side showed where Avathor had struck and that had made the headpiece difficult to remove.
Garrison Nebel was stirring feebly but unable to speak or rise. The impact he had taken would have killed an unprotected Human. Even with the helmet to break the blow, he had suffered a mild concussion. Bane did not try to move his teammate just then. He knew that, as a Tel Shai knight, Nebel had been on a Tagra tea regimen for years. Its effects gave him enhanced healing that was bringing him back from the brink of sliding into a coma. With every second, Nebel regained a little more strength.
"I don't know if you can hear me," Bane said. "I hope so. Hang on. Don't let go. You'll recover fast if you just hold on."
As he spoke, the Dire Wolf felt a gloved hand grip his arm without much strength. Nebel was struggling to revive. His was a mind that was never completely subdued. The blind mystic's breathing was visibly stronger as his chest moved. Bane took his friend's pulse again and found it strong and normal at 70 beats per minute. That was a relief.
Behind them, Kwali approached. The giant African champion knelt beside Nebel and made his own examination. He thumbed open one of the blind mystic's eyes, but those opaque pupils were no help in determining a concussion. Kwali reached over and respectfully lifted Sagehelm, surprised at seeing the visible dent in the faceplate.
"I think he's going to recover," Bane told the Danarakan warrior. "Thank God for the Tagra diet. We've all survived so much because of Tagra. It's an effect Steve and Sulak and I still retain."
Kwali pulled Nebel's cloak from under the man and folded it to cushion his head. "My hatred of this Gralic Leech grows stronger every minute," he said. "We must confront him, captain."
"I have a plan," Bane told him.
"Wait... I just need a few minutes," Garrision Nebel whispered, trying to rise up but not succeeding. "Do not.. be distressed over me."
"You hold still, that's an order," Bane said sharply. "We are going to carry you down to our medical ward. Kwali, take the legs?"
"Certainly." The two of them lifted Nebel and gingerly manuevered him down the steep staircase from the roof. Bane had tucked the Eyeless Helmet under one arm. Directly below them was the hangar where one of the CORBYs was usually stored, and there was the elevator they rode down to the first floor. Just inside the front door on the ground level was their medical ward. Weaver saw them emerge and rushed over to help. They lowered Nebel onto one of the three regulation hospital beds, yanked off his tunic and hooked him up to standard monitors.
The equipment in the medical ward had been improved and upgraded by the Trom, but it was still recognizable for the most part. They took vitals and found heartbeat, blood pressure and blood oxygen levels were all good. Weaver wheeled over a flat electronic screen on a stand and pasted a few electrodes to Nebel's chest, wrists and ankles. A second later, readings appeared on the screen.
"I'm not a doctor like Ted," he announced quietly. "But the EKG looks regular as heck to me."
Bane came over and tapped some more commands into the apparatus. "Just a second. Let's compare. Yeah, it matches the one on file from his last physical. Still..."
Letting out a deep sigh, Nebel raised one hand in a placating gesture. "My friends, I will be fine. Trust me. My own perception would let me know if I had taken any serious injury."
The other KDF members gave each other wry half-smiles at that reassurance. Bane said, "Your helmet is going to need a little hammering out. I didn't think anything could dent it like that."
"Everything has its limits," Nebel admitted. "I do think I might rest a few more minutes."
"I'm ordering you to stay put until Dr Wright gets here and clears you for duty, Garrison. That's speaking as your Tel Shai captain." Bane turned to Kwali and Weaver. "You two should join the others at Hawk Island. We're safe enough in this building, since Avathor can't defy the Yellow Shield or the other Eldar talismans. But we can't stay here. We have to face him right now. He has to be stopped."
Out in the front hall, standing at the bottom of the wide staircase which led up to the second floor, Black Angel snapped his fingers. "Wait. I also caught another sighting of our bad guy. At a credit union up by 110th Street. Let me paraphrase. A big dark-skinned guy with a blond crewcut ripped open an ATM with his hands. He shoved wads of money into all his pockets and had his hands full of it. When someone got in his way, he elbowed the poor sap aside and broke three ribs. No one saw him leave."
"Avathor had his fun with rape and murder last night," Bane grumbled. "Now he's satisfied with mere robbery. I hope some cop doesn't try to take a shot at him, Avathor will kill him in a blink."
"We're heading to the island, Jeremy," Weaver said as he trotted up the stairs. Kwali followed, turning his stern face back to his leader. "Take heart! This monster has not yet faced the Black Lion, captain."
VII.
Rocketing up the East Coast, Avathor fumed with a fiercer sense of grievance than he had ever felt before. To his way of thinking, he deserved whatever he desired. The fools of Tel Shai were unfairly standing in his way and he swore to himself they would all be dead before sunset. He had planned a victory feast with the three retainers who served him, but that would have to wait.
And yet.. it was difficult to stay enraged. The sheer exuberance of his new physical attributes was exhilarating. He was flying under his own power, hundreds of feet above the cold Atlantic which sparkled in the sunlight. This required concentration and was not effortless by any means, but it was an incredibly liberating experience. Feeling the lightning speed and steel-smashing strength roar through his body, Avathor fought back an urge to laugh in triumph. He still wore the polished riding boots and dark pants, but had changed to a white dress shirt left unbuttoned almost to the waist. He was vain and showed off his body as much for his own admiration as for others.
Perhaps he should return to Androval, despite his exile. What could they do to him? He was invincible. He could slay the entire army without being scratched. How satisfying it would be to crash into the royal court, to snap King Holmir's neck personally and take the crown for himself. Why not? Who could stop him? Avathor the First. Any beautiful woman that caught his eye, any fine cuisine or art treasures would be his. He could sit on a mountain of gold coins if he chose.
But first, those Tel Shai dogs. The Dire Wolf, that damned Sulak, the others. Once they were dead, he could plan his conquests in detail.
Below him, he saw a small rocky island. Avathor slowed his flight, arching his body like a diver to descend. He had never seen Hawk Island from above, of course, but he remembered the shape of the building he had escaped from. Yes. There was the hangar and the boathouse. The Gralic Leech grinned in anticipation. He came down way too fast, not having Weaver's years of practice and control, and hit the ground with a force that drove his feet into the rocky soil up to the ankles. Avathor kicked free and glared around.
He could see that vile black helicopter showing within the open hangar door, so some of his enemies must be here.
No one seemed to be in sight. The Gralic Leech began striding toward the hangar in increasing frustration, thinking he could at least destroy this facility. Then he saw a tall African in skin-tight black cotton tunic and leggings emerge from behind the building to stand watching him. The man strangely had pale green eyes that caught the sunlight as the eyes of a cat would. Those eyes watched him without fear.
"I don't know you," Avathor announced. "Where is the Dire Wolf? Where is Sulak?"
"Worry about yourself," answered the man, stepping lightly forward. "I am Bakwanga Kwali, the Cat's-Claw, heir to Wakimbe himself. And this is the hour of your death."
The deadly calm in the man's voice was unsettling but the Gralic Leech still did not take him seriously. As Kwali moved closer, Avathor doubled his fists and decided to keep this man alive for a while. He wanted to get some information first.
In an instant, Kwali dropped forward onto all fours and his body swelled up, changed form and lunged forward. A midnight-furred cat bigger than a horse pounced on Avathor. The Black Lion swatted out one huge paw that flung the Gralic Leech violently aside to crash against a rocky outcropping. Avathor's body cracked the stone and left an imprint.
Throwing back its maned head, green eyes flaring with their own lambent light, the Black Lion let out a roar that echoed for miles. Not since prehistoric times had such a challenge been sounded in that area. Rising unharmed, Avathor stared with bulging eyes despite himself at the great beast. The sheer presence of the creature was overwhelming.
Then he caught himself. Lifting up off the ground, the Gralic Leech shot forward to dive headlong onto the Black Lion. They rolled furiously over and over, with Avathor seizing one of the giant beast's forepaws in each hand and pulling them out to the sides. Huge jaws clamped down around his head and shoulders, fangs seven inches long dug into his flesh. Wresting himself free, Avathor managed a wide roundhouse blow that cracked to the side of the maned head and threw the beast off him.
The Black Lion rumbled deep in its chest and crouched. Avathor gingerly touched his shoulders and neck where his skin had been broken, shocked that anything could harm him with his new powers. Again, he flew straight forward to tackle the giant creature, fists pounding with a sound like cannons firing. Driven back a few steps, the Black Lion reared up on its hind legs and came down with a thump to pin its enemy beneath a massive paw harder than stone.
In those few seconds, Avathor realized he could not harm his enemy. The Black Lion was not flesh and blood, but a gralic construct. On the other hand, even with the stolen power from Sulak, Avathor was still mortal. His wounds stung and he felt he might weaken as he bled. Drawing up both legs, he thrust them up and managed to throw the great cat off him. The Gralic Leech cast himself up into the air, barely escaping the clash of huge fangs beneath his heels as the Black Lion leaped up its own length and tried to bite him in half.
Avathor hovered up out of reach, touching his gouged shoulders and feeling hot wetness. He had never been so outraged. The Gralic Leech arched his body and dove down to seize the gigantic beast by its hind legs. Using all of Weaver's levitating ability, he rose up and flashed out over the island. Even as the cat twisted and contorted in a furious effort to reach him, Avathor hurtled out over the Atlantic. The strain was incredible. Lifting the Black Lion was at the very upper limit of his stolen flight power, only the usurped strength in his arms enabled him to hold on.
He managed to get three miles out to sea before he felt the beast wriggling loose from his grasp. Still moving at high speed, he whirled around in a tight circle and let go. The Black Lion spun up high and then plummeted down to hit the ocean surface with a geyser of cold water. Its roar of defiance was cut short as it sank out of sight.
"Hah! You are dealing with the true superman now!" Fingering his wounds gingerly, Avathor had a discouraged feeling that he had only bought some time. He doubted that monster could drown, it probaby didn't even need to breathe and could walk back on the bottom of the ocean. He worried that he himself was still bleeding, although it seemed to be easing. The Gralic Leech set himself, swung around in mid-air and started flying back toward Hawk Island. If any of the Tel Shai knights were there, he would relish finishing them off.
VIII.
By the time he made it back to the island, Avathor was weary. His wounds had stopped bleeding but they still stung and he ached from bruises. That monster cat would have been able to kill him in a few more minutes. He was shaken by the realization that he was not completely invincible, after all.
The Gralic Leech touched down near the helicopter and exhaled sadly. His expensive silk shirt hung in strips, one sleeve attached only at the cuff. His exposed skin had been tanned by exposure so long that it seemed a bit dry and damaged, its darkness contrasting oddly with the blue eyes and blond widow's-peak. Avathor caught his breath and decided to start smashing the facilities here. Not only would he demoralize his enemies, he might well find some valuable talismans that Tel Shai had been hoarding.
Strange, that tent by the hangar. A large olive-green tent eight feet to a side. He had not noticed it before. What was that glitter he spotted a few yard away from the tent, in that circle of dug up earth? He should have been more cautious, he knew Bane had a reputation for trickery and misdirection, but Avathor felt a strange compulsion to investigate that glitter. He had to see what it was.
The Melgar exile strode over and knelt beside an open chamois bag that had spilled out a dozen blue-white diamonds. He knew gems. These were valuable. Avathor dropped to both knees, picking the largest diamond to hold it up to the sun. Only then, when it was too late, did he realize what a mistake he had made.
Even in the brilliant morning sunshine, the white flare which enveloped him blotted out all vision. As the roaring noise faded, Avathor sank to his knees and then fell over on his side. From within the tent, Jeremy Bane emerged and spoke into his Link.
"Cindy, search and rescue for Kwali! He may still be in the lion body, swimming back here," he snapped.
"On my way," the telepath replied. From within the hangar, the CORBY taxied out with its rotors beginning to rotate. The black helicopter rolled a short distance and then rose sharply to head out to sea with startling acceleration.
Coming over to stand by the stunned Avathor, Weaver and Sulak glared down angrily. Bane judged that the Gralic Leech would not be an immediate threat, and he turned to his two friends. "You guys feel back to normal?"
"Absolutely," answered Sulak, swinging his arms and grinning. "And a great relief it is, too."
"My abilities are back, too," Black Angel said. He cradled his helmet in the crook of one arm. "That was a risky gamble, captain."
"I wasn't happy with our chances, to be honest." The Dire Wolf had drawn his 38 S&W and was covering Avathor with it at point-blank range. "If that Zhune artifact hadn't worked right... or its charge had faded too low to activate, I think this goon would have been able to rip us apart and we wouldn't have been able to stop him. We were damn lucky to get him to stand where the transfer plate was hidden as it was."
Sulak was stretching and testing himself but he stopped at a thought. "What would have happened if our attributes had been returned to the wrong person?"
"I guess we would just have to adjust to the change," the Dire Wolf said. "You'd be fast, I'd be flying. Steve would be strong. We'd have to work with it."
Gazing at in the direction where the CORBY had disappeared, Weaver asked, "Was Cindy using her powers to steer him? I distinctly felt that telepathic tickle in the back of my head."
"Yeah," Bane replied absently. "She was guiding him to be curious about the diamonds. Those are real diamonds, by the way. We recovered them in Golgora's loot but no one knows who they belong to."
"This guy is too dangerous to take chances with," Weaver said. "It would be just prudent to execute him here and now. But I can't do it. After what I saw in my second tour of duty... what they made us do over there..."
"I can't kill in cold blood either," Bane told them. "Maybe I'm not hard enough for the Midnight War, but executing someone like that just isn't in me. I'd never sleep at night again."
Sulak waved a dismissing hand. "This is not a problem, my friends. Avathor is a fellow Melgar with a sentence already on his head. I will bring him back to Androval myself and tell of these deeds. After what he did to that poor Human woman, I have no doubt he will kneel on the executioner's block within the day."
The Black Angel sighed and moved a little away to sit down on the rocky soil. "I keep thinking about that girl, too. Brittney Morrison, only nineteen. She had her life ahead of her and now..."
"There is something very wrong in Avathor's mind," Sulak said. "In Androval, they say those are like him have been born without a soul. Humans call them sociopaths, I think. They know right from wrong but they don't care."
As the Gralic Leech groaned and began to revive, the Dire Wolf kept his gun trained dead steady. "Some superman," he said.
3/22/2017
