"The Kings In the Crypt"
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dochermes"The Kings In the Crypt"
2/22/1973
I.
He was running for his life in the wrong direction. Fred Hogarty hurtled along the great sluggish brown river Nyatowa, heading away from where his two-seater seaplane was moored. But he could not help it. Close enough that their ferocious howling could be heard was a war party of the Acerimos. Their voices were getting louder as they gained on him.
The saw-edged high grass was cutting through his corduroy pants and khaki shirt, both soaked through with sweat from exertion in this hot humid climate. At thirty-four, Hogarty was in good condition but this situation was calling on more than he had to give. Holstered at his hip was a big Colt .44 with five bullets in its chambers but if he had to use it, he knew it would be best to put the barrel in his own mouth.
He had seen these Acerimos skinning captives over hot coals while screams echoed out over the trees. The Jaguar Ghosts, the xenophobic tribe called itself. They thought they were the only true people in the world and everyone else was prey.
There was no way to escape this. His legs were beginning to tremble. Soon he would fall, the Acerimos would seize him and carry him off with gales of triumphant laughter. That night, the stew pots would be extra tasty for these devils. Fred Hogarty felt not terror but sorrow... regret for all that he would never get to do in life. And so many had warned him not to venture into this Green Hell on the border of Venezuela.
Behind, delighted shrieks rang out. A dozen Acerimos burst into view and quickened their pace. These warriors had sleeky glossy skin with a distinct coppery red tint. They were tall and gangly, with long arms and legs. Their heads were mostly shaven, with caps made of jaguar fur. And they carried spears and short swords and clubs with pieces of sharp stone embedded in the heads.
Seeing them from the corner of one eye, Hogarty wheeled toward the riverbank twenty yards to his side. He would still be killed if he dove in. Spears would pierce his body, but maybe the current would carry him away so at least he would not be eaten. Small comfort.
A different note of confusion echoed in the tribesmen's voices. Fred Hogarty had a brief glimpse of something made of shiny gold flashing past him, heading toward the Acerimos. Despite all his instincts, he slowed and turned back to see an astonishing whirlwind of violence.
At the center of the mayhem was a short stocky Asian man. Not more than five feet six inches tall and stocky, he had a wide face and a nose that had been broken at some point. The man was in his late forties, his head was almost shaven with just a black bristle covering it. He wore boots and leggings of soft leather, but his loosely-sashed tunic was of a beautiful gold silk that glimmered in the late afternoon sunlight. In black on the back of his tunic were those Korean ideograms for 'gold' and 'sun.'
Incredibly, the newcomer moved through the savage spear thrusts and furious clubbing as if the Acerimos were trying to miss him. His co-ordination and deftness were that skilled. At every opening he saw, the man crashed out a fist or foot with murderous precision. He seized a warrior's arm by the wrist and pulled it out straight, at the same time kicking up into the man's armpit to dislocate that arm with torn tendons. In an instant, four of the Acerimos sprawled dead in the damp grass and three were reeling back with crippling injuries.
One of the spears came hurtling straight for his face at point-blank range. The Asian snatched it out of the air as if grabbing a vagrant butterfly, then snapped the thick shaft without apparent effort. That broke the warriors' nerves. Those still alive spun and ran, the wounded following as best they could.
"Ah ha ha! Golden Sun has taught you manners!" taunted the man. He threw the spear fragments aside and whirled to make the nerve-stricken Hogarty jump. "You! The American Fred Hogarty from Northwest University. Come with me and your chances of living are much better."
"Ack. Eeee, Erk," was all he could manage.
"Come on, man, get hold of yourself." Golden Sun grabbed Hogarty's shirt front and started him off at a trot. Despite his near exhaustion, the explorer managed to keep up.
After a few minutes at that steady pace, Hogarty caught his breath enough to ask, "Who are you?"
"Ah, curious eh? Not surprising. I am Chong Kyu Sung from a little town north of Seoul. Everyone calls me Golden Sun. I am the first Tiger Fury in a hundred years, the first man that Teacher Chael has dignified as recognizing as a Master of Kumundu in a full century."
Seeing the blank reaction, Sun continued with disappointment, "That means nothing to you, does it? Ah well. I suppose Tel Shai is not common knowledge. We're almost at the camp. When you meet my partner, he'll explain better what a mess you have thrust yourself into."
The man called Golden Sun slowed to a halt, listening. He nodded in approval. "Jaguar Ghosts, they dare call themselves. They run more like Rabbit Ghosts. Come on, Mr Hogarty. Andrew Steel is waiting."
II.
Ahead was a natural clearing within sight of the riverbank. Two canvas tents had been set up facing a firepit over which a kettle whistled on crossed sticks. Moored by guidelines driven into pegs on the bank, a strange aircraft bobbed up and down on the murky river. Forty feet long, with a twenty-three foot wingspread, it resembled a Harrier jet but was sleeker and more advanced. Its finish was a flat battleship grey and behind the rear vanes were the letters STEEL 1. Hogarty gaped at it for only a second. His full attention was held by the famous figure who stood with arms folded across his chest and smiled wryly at his arrival.
An inch over six feet tall, trim and athletic, Andrew Steel's well-known face with its short white hair and light grey eyes was instantly recognizable. The uniform of high boots, trousers and front-flap tunic, all made of some material with a glossy metallic sheen, was the same grey hue as the aircraft.
"Good work, Sun," the grey man greeted them. "Mr Hogarty, welcome to our camp. I'm glad we reached this area in time."
"Steel? Andrew Steel, it IS you, isn't it? I've seen your picture in the papers."
"The one and only," laughed Golden Sun as he went over to kneel by the fire. "Some strong brewed ginseng tea is called for."
"We need to get moving," Hogarty said with an apprehensive backward glance. "Those savages might be coming back with reinforcements."
"I don't think so," Steel replied. "They'll return to the village to tell exaggerated stories of the hundred warriors who attacked them, then they will need a feast with banana beer to work themselves up to another frenzy. I calculate we have until tomorrow at this time. Come here, meet my other associate. Jennifer?"
Emerging from one of the tents and straightening up, a tall thin woman in her thirties fixed a baleful eye on Hogarty. Jennifer had dark brown hair pulled back in a severe bun and greenish eyes in a long, slightly bony face. She was wearing hiking boots, tan shorts and a white shirt with two deep breast pockets. The expression on her face was not friendly.
"This is Jennifer Christine Ross, for eight years a Maine Coast Guard helicopter pilot, and for one year a paramedic for a Bangor ambulance service. Christine, Fred Hogarty--"
"I know who he is," she snapped. "I read about that fiasco in Cancun."
"Hey, no fair," Hogarty began, "The police were being bribed by a local cartel. I didn't start anything."
From where he squatted sipping tea out of a tin mug, Sun chuckled. "Don't try to defend yourself, sir. It's like sweeping back the ocean with a broom."
Steel interrupted. "Even with a breather before the headhunters return, we need to move. Mr Hogarty, how is it we find you in this admittedly remote locale?"
"What? Well, I'm not much of an archaeologist myself. I sometimes assist on digs. My real job is scouting. I'm good at exploring, hiking, climbing mountains and wading through swamps. Mostly using common sense and basic survival skills. I've been hired by Northwestern University to see if rumors of ancient ruins here might have something to them. That's it."
Jennifer Ross sniffed as disdainfully as such a mere noise could convey, then went over to kneel by the fire and helped herself to her own mug of tea.
"Those natives chasing me," Hogarty went on. "They were Acerimos, judging by their jaguar totemization. I understood that they were found far south of here, at least a hundred miles away."
The grey man gestured toward where Sun and Jennifer sat. "Help yourself to some tea and biscuits. You ran at least three miles."
While Fred Hogarty fell to the ground rather than seating himself, grabbing an already buttered biscuit and getting it down in a gulp, Andrew Steel watched him. The famous grey man was not emotionless as he was often described as being. He was however restrained and muted. The pale eyes took in every detail of the visitor to his camp.
"You're right about the Acerimos," he said finally. "Their territory is southwest of here, along a tributary of the main river. Three weeks ago, they moved into this area and claimed it. Doing so, they terrorized and abused many of the Cojobes."
"That's the tribe I was expecting to meet. Not those jaguar bozos thirsting for my blood."
"The Cojobes are not a bad bunch," Steel said. "They've done some trade upriver near the capital, and they're on good terms with most of the other tribes in this region."
"Except for a lapse into infanticide and slavery now and then, they're all right," Jennifer put in. "Kind of neighbors you're glad to welcome. Fooey."
"She has always had that chip on her shoulder," Chong Kyu Sun said while sitting right next to the woman. "Big as a two by four. You get used to it."
Jennifer Ross hopped nimbly up onto her feet. "Let's skip the banter and get to the real problem. The Acerimos haven't muscled into this area on their own. They're being led by an outsider... a criminal from our so-called civilized world."
"She is right," Steel said.
"Damn straight I'm right. A sorcerer or Alchemist or whatever, some Midnight War scum has taken over the Acerimos and wants them to explore the ruins." She began tapping one toe on the hard black dirt. "And we know what the big prize is!"
"Sorry to be so out of the loop..." Hogarty began.
"The artifacts of Zhune!" she yelled at him. "The Lost Science of the Ancients."
III.
A half hour later, Jennifer Ross waved to them from the cockpit of the moored aircraft STORMBIRD. In an inflatable raft, she had done a hundred-point visual check of the plane, warmed up the fuel and oil, rundown operating systems. Now she was satisfied. Within a one minute space, she would be able to detach the moorings and taxi away from the shore for a vertical lift-off thirty seconds later. If she saw the three men running towards the shore, her procedure would be to let them swim to the plane, climb aboard while she backed away and then lift off as soon as they were inside.
"You've planned for emergencies," Hogarty said.
"Hah! More than once, we've had to scramble onto that bird and crawl in through the hatches while it was taking off," retorted Golden Sun. Going into a tent, he had changed his silk tunic for a more prosaic cotton T-shirt which was however bright canary yellow with the Korean ideograms drawn on the back. He strapped a small knapsack high on his back and twirled a four-foot hickory staff experimentally.
Watching the man, Hogarty ventured to ask, "I'm curious what martial art you were using. I've seen Hapkido demonstrations..."
"I am a Master of Kumundu," Sun answered. "Teacher Chael devises what techniques will work best for each student's build and personality. I'll let you in on a sort of secret. We Tel Shai knights heal faster than you would believe. I can strike armor full force with my bare fists because the tiny fractures in my bones seal up so quickly I hardly notice. Techniques a normal man would not dare to use are routine for me. Concussions only make me angry."
"Really. I never heard of such a thing. Can you show me how to heal like that?"
"Oh, that is forbidden by the Teachers of Tel Shai. I've said too much already." The Korean went over to satisfy himself that the cooking fire was completely out, although the odds of the damp vegetation of this jungle catching fire were infintesimal.
Andrew Steel gave Jennifer a sort of salute with his index and second fingers together by his head. This was a characteristic 'all clear' signal of his. The strange grey man seemed completely at ease in his uniform of heavy material, covering everything but head and hands, even in the high humidity and ninety degree heat. Not only was he not perspiring, he didn't seem uncomfortable.
"We had only arrived an hour before you headed our way," Steel told their guest. "While we were setting up camp, I heard the Acerimos war cries. Sun volunteered to discourage them from bothering us and so you joined our party."
They started along the riverbank, where passage was easier than through the tangle of underbrush. Brilliantly colored birds rose squawking in indignation at their approach. Fred Hogarty soon became self-conscious about his tripping over roots or being scratched by brambles which clung to his clothing. Chong Kyu Sun stalked like a panther in contrast. And Andrew Steel glided untouched through the increasingly dense growth, almost as if the branches slid off his grey uniform.
As they walked, Steel looked back over one shoulder at Hogarty. "Have you ever heard of Zhune?"
"Yeah, sure. Quite a controversy." Hogarty slowed as they passed an alligator which, jaws gaping wide, seemed to be napping and unaware of them. "Lots of argument whether it existed or not. Zhune was supposed to be one of the earliest civilizations but its timing doesn't make sense. It seems to have existed in areas which should have been underwater at the time or where Humans hadn't yet appeared."
"I can tell you Zhune was very real," Andrew Steel said with his quiet authority. "It was founded by survivors who somehow retained memories of the Darthan Age. The geniuses of Zhune discovered the fundamental secret of the universe, how to convert energy into matter and matter into energy. Many think they destroyed themselves with this knowledge."
"Much as we today are hellbent on doing to ourselves," added Chong Kyu Sun. "No matter how wise Men become, they are still fools."
"Be that as it may, Zhune relics have been discovered on rare occasions. They are still potent, all these thousands of years later, still capable of harnessing immense destructive force. I suspect these ruins are a Zhunite outpost and some of their artifacts may remain intact."
As they made their way up a steep hill, Fred Hogarty said, "Hey, I get it. The mysterious outsider who is stirring up the headhunters.. he's after the Zhune relics?"
"That is exactly what I fear. Maybe Karl Eldritch or Wu Lung or Melchius, in any case someone both ambitious and knowledgeable to be able to use the Zhune machinery." Andrew Steel crested the hill and pointed. "There you are, my friends. The lost outpost of Zhune."
IV.
Spread below them were twenty buildings made of dark greenish stone, long low structures with arched doorways and squat towers. The surface of each building was covered with ornate carvings of abstract shapes that could not be identified, and several life-sized statues of jaguars reared up on ledges that protruded out over the doorways. Arrayed along the walls were stakes stuck in the hard ground with yellowed human skulls at their upper points. In the slanting light before dusk, the skulls seemed to have expressions change on their bony faces.
"The Acerimos have already been here," Sun growled. "Them and their obsession with jaguars and with skulls!"
Turning slowly from the waist, hands down by his side, Steel said, "The Jaguar Ghosts have been here, adding their decorations. But building these structures took thousands of laborers working for generations. There must be hundreds of acres around here where fields were tilled, although it's all grown over now."
Golden Sun swung around protectively in front of Hogarty, pushing him back. "Movement by that pillar, grey one."
"I see it," Steel replied. He reached into the open side of his tunic's front flap and strapped a flat metal disc three inches across to his palm. "Sentries left on duty."
With a horrendous scream, three of the Acerimos leaped out from behind a stone pillar carved with ornate animals figures. They came running full tilt toward the intruders, spears brandishing.
"Turn completely around and cover your eyes," Steel ordered. As Hogarty automatically obeyed without understanding, the grey man raised his hand and the entire world seemed to turn intolerably bright. That flash only lasted half a second but it was enough. The attacking tribesmen tumbled to a halt, two of them losing their balance. They howled and wiped their eyes, dropping their weapons.
"Disarm them, would you?" Steel said to Golden Sun. The Tiger Fury strode over and threw the discarded spears far out into the underbrush, then yanked short knives from the Acerimos' loinclothes and flung them away as well.
"Goddam. I was turned around with my eyes closed and I STILL see spots," Hogarty said.
Steel replaced the disc inside his tunic and walked toward the yelling natives. "I try to use non-lethal defenses but nothing is completely harmless. These men may suffer some permanent damage."
By then, Sun had kicked the men lightly in the rear of each one's knee to get them down on the paved surface of the ruined city. When one tried to rise, he dope-slapped them on the backs of their heads while they still chattered to each other in terror.
In a fluid polysyllabic language, Andrew Steel's voice rang out, >"Hold still. Be quiet. Vision will come back to you if you do not move!"<
Leaning toward Sun, Fred Hogarty said, "How can he speak their dialect? I couldn't find more than a few phrases in any reference."
"Hah. I have yet to find a language the grey one does NOT know," Golden Sun answered. "You have not even begun to be impressed by him."
>"We come from the lands beyond the sunrise,"< Steel continued. >"Tell me of the outsider who has come into your lives."<
All three answered at once, and Steel made them repeat themselves one at a time. He told them to lie down and keep their eyes closed until their vision returned. To keep the prisoners secured, Golden Sun cut tough vines with a folding knife and tied their wrists and ankles together, finding them too demotalized to resist.
Steel said, "They tell me of a white man whose shoulders are above their heads. A man without hair, whose eyes are neither brown nor green, a cruel master who slays any who defy him."
"Well, that's bad news," Chong Kyu Sun grunted. "I was hoping Eldritch wouldn't be here in person."
"We must act quickly," agreed Steel. "That square mastaba seems most likely to be our goal."
"Wait, wait, give me something to work with." Hogarty was still blinking and tears trickled down his face but he could see well enough to move around. "What's this Eldritch business?"
"Karl Eldritch," Steel answered. "A sorcerer with twenty years of experience. He studied under a Darthan Kje and a Nekrosan before killing them to take their paraphenalia. Recently he has become obsessed with Zhune."
Unsnapped his flap holster, Hogarty did not know how to say, "You mean, he's an actual warlock? Black Magic, devil worship, that kind of thing?"
"And worse." Andrew Steel moved toward a square topped stone structure fifty feet to each side. The outer walls had been carved with not with jaguars but the beaked heads of vultures. Ages of exposure to weather and growth of vines obscured the macabre decorations. One side was fronted with a door wide enough to admit three men standing abreast, barred with a stone beam thick as a telephone pole.
"I believe this is the Crypt of Kings," the grey man said as he examined the door. "I have found only one reference to it."
"Listen, maybe I don't get the real meaning of what you and this Eldritch are up to," Hogarty objected. "This is a find of enormous significance. I need to inform the University. A team of archaeologists should be mapping and photographing this site before ANY digging is done..."
Golden Sun tugged on Hogarty's sleeve in a casual gesture that yanked the man off balance by two feet. "Not now. The grey one must act. If Eldritch gets his paws on Zhune relics, it's worse than a criminal lunatic grabbing nuclear warheads. That man knows too much already."
Placing his fists on his hips, the man in grey shook his head. "I hate to do this but it's necessary." He reached inside the front flap of his tunic and came out with two glass bottles, one with a red label and one with a green label, both marked X. Moving with great care, he dripped contents from the red bottle on each end of the crossbar, then sealed the bottle again and replaced it. Before continuing, he calmly said, "You two might want to step back."
Adding drops from the green bottle produced a cloud of vile black smoke and a bubbling hiss. Andrew Steel put the bottle back into his tunic and waved away the fumes. Deep ruts had been eaten into the stone crossbar, nearly severing it at each end.
Turning his head to see Hogarty gawking open-mouthed, Steel remarked, "You see why I keep the ingredients to that solvent separate, eh?" He bent and picked up a rounded stone bigger than his own head, lifting it as easily as he might lift a balloon. Steel brought the stone down hard in the center of the stone crossbar, which split and crashed in unequal halves to the ground.
"Closed for thirty thousands years," the grey man announced. "We're about the enter the Crypt of Kings."
VI.
Reaching into his knapsack, Golden Sun took a powerful flashlight for himself and handed one to Hogarty. After waiting a few minutes for outside air to circulate within the interior, the three men stepped into a mostly empty space. Arranged in an inward-facing circle were six thrones of elaborately sculpted stone, and on each sat a figure encased in a beaten gold plate armor. The face openings of those crested helmets revealed the shriveled faces of unspeakably dried mummies with empty eye sockets and lips long gone to show grimacing teeth.
In the center of their assembly stood a chest-high device of some unfamiliar copper-red metal which had a hot sheen to it in the beams of their flashlights. A rectangular box up on its narrow end was topped by an array of six metal globes ending in a spike pointing directly at one of the cadavers. Low and deep, felt more as a vibration through the feet rather than heard as a noise, the device hummed.
Fred Hogarty broke the hush with a mundane profanity and a long whistle. "I will never say I've seen everything. My God. The team that documents this will all be millionaires, museums will pay a national debt to own this junk. And of course, the guy who leads the dig team here will get a cut."
"Hah!" Golden Sun snorted. "I admire your optimism. You are thousands of miles within headhunter territory, facing Black Magic no one understands and likely to be confronted with the most dangerous warlock of our time. Survival should be on your mind, not wealth."
"I try to stay positive."
The Tiger Fury laughed out loud. "I like this one, Andrew. He has spirit."
Steel had circled the chamber, studying the inscriptions and the mummies at close hand, then getting down on one knee to examine the shimmering metal construct. "This is still potent," he said. "After so long, it retains its charge of atomic fire somehow."
Hogarty and Sun came over to stand near him. They kept playing their beams around the chamber, finding new carved jaguar heads snarling or stone replicas of human skulls leering at them. After a few minutes, Hogarty rushed back to the entrance to satisfy himself that the massive stone door was propped open with a segment of the crossbar and could not possibly swing shut to trap them inside.
"Wait," Steel said as he rose and took a step back. "This device has started humming."
Whispering through their heads, thin and reedy as a wind over the mountains, a voice echoed. "Behold, you stand before Urtan, last King of this outpost."
"And Simbol, King before him..."
"And Wavur Taf, King before him...."
Golden Sun clapped his hands over his ears. "I don't understand it. Grey one, what are those voices?"
"Recordings, perhaps," Steel answered with remarkable calm despite the situation. "These might be the words these mummies spoke into this mechanism and it's now playing them back."
"There are three of you, but one does not live as Men know life. He is cleverly made," whispered the voice.
"We have not come to steal your treasures, nor pay you disrespect," Golden Sun shouted.
The voice went on, "Where are the priests? The sacrifices left at our door?"
"Your empire fell ages ago," Andrew Steel said. "None of your subjects are alive this day."
"No," "It cannot be," and "This is blasphemy" all sounded at once. "Where are the serfs tending the fields? The market and bazaar? The brave soldiers in their rainment?"
"All gone," the grey man answered. "The very shape of the lands and the rivers have changed. You have slept long."
"We must think on this. Simbol, Wavur, what say you?" echoed that ethereal voice heard only in the mind.
Steel and Golden Sun caught each other's eye and moved a few steps nearer to the humming artifact. Fred Hogarty could hardly catch his breath, not because of the musty tomb but from excitement.
"Behold, wickedness draws close..." whispered that telepathic murmur from a brain long dead.
All three of the men spun toward the entrance. There, filling the door from side to side with his shaven head barely clearing the top, loomed an immense man all in black. Karl Eldritch.
VI.
"Stay where you are!" ordered the giant warlock. "Defy me at your extreme peril."
Chong-Kyu Sun and Fred Hogarty stood as if paralyzed at the dramatic entrance, but Andrew Steel folded his arms across his chest. The grey man's voice was steady, "You're playing with dangerous forces, Eldritch."
"More than you realize. I am close, so close, to understanding the ultimate secret of the Universe. Already I can summon primal atomic fire. Only I can charge up the Zhune artifacts to their full potency. They rightfully belong to me!" he concluded by striking his own chest with a massive fist.
"No..." the eerie voice drifted through the tomb. "You are mistaken..."
"This is one of your tricks, Steel," Eldritch rumbled. "I have warned you to stay out of my way."
"The secrets of Zhune are not for you... We still claim the secrets of our philosophers..." came thaty telepathic whisper.
"Oh, I see." Unexpectedly, Karl Eldritch boomed out a guffaw of genuine amusement. "This device is some sort of mental amplifier. The thoughts are still rattling around inside your dried skulls like a pea in a hollow gourd, hee hee."
"Eldritch, I must warn you," Steel began but was cut off by a sudden flare of intense white light.
The warlock held up a broad flat hand, from it shone that radiance that made eyes tear up and strange shadows dance. "Look and marvel, Andrew Steel. Primal atomic fire, basis of all that is. When I have mastered it fully, I will carve my name upon the surface of the Moon."
"I'm aware of what you can do," the grey man replied as if discussing mundane business. "My words are not a threat but a warning to turn back while you can."
"You waste my time. Flee if you will, this mechanism is mine." Moving lightly for his great size, the sorcerer took three long strides and closed his hands on the humming metal device.
"No!" hissed the telepathic voices in unison. "This will not be! Stop! You are commanded by the Kings of Zhune."
Stiffly, creaking as they moved, the six withered mummies pushed down with their gauntleted hands on the arms of their thrones and stood up. Bits of their armor flaked off, one of the Kings lost an arm which fell apart into pieces, a helmet tumbled away to reveal a leering skull covered with patches of leathery skin. But still they rose and loomed ominously over the dumbfounded Eldritch.
Without a word, Andrew Steel vaulted out of that tomb, snatching up Hogarty under one arm and Sun under the other, racing as if their added weight meant nothing. Out in the clammy night air, he dropped the two men and wheeled around to slam the thick stone door shut again.
"Huh? What? Who..?" muttered Hogarty as he tried to comprehend the rapid action of the past few seconds. More used to such events, Golden Sun joined Steel in jamming the broken pieces of the crossbar over the door. Even as they finished, blinding white light shone out through cracks in the stones and under the door, brighter than the noonday sun if stared at directly. A deep thump under their feet knocked them rolling away. A second later, with a thunderous crash and a choking cloud of dust, the crypt fell in upon itself.
"Oh, come on. What's LEFT? What can happen next?" grumbled Fred Hogarty as he struggled back to his feet, coughing at the stone dust in the air and trying to blink away the afterimages which swam in his vision. Next to him, Golden Sun hopped up, rubbing a bruised shoulder but alert and ready for more trouble.
Only Andrew Steel was unfazed by the collapse of the tomb. He stood staring at the wreckage, arms down by his sides, without a scratch on him or a mark on his uniform. That confident voice still remained in control. "Unfortunately, we can not spare the time now to excavate that mess," he said. "Sun, you remember we're meeting with the new INTERCEPT chief in a few days."
"Aw, we can come back with a crew and some equipment," Sun responded. "It's a sure bet that Karl Eldritch won't be going anywhere."
"I wish I was as certain," said the grey man. He turned to face Hogarty in the gloom. "Come to our camp, Fred. We'll fly you to where your plane is moored and escort you as far as the border. We are heading north, but you'll want to go to the capital, I assume."
The mercenary shook his head. "You know, I think it's better not to report this, to the University or to anyone. Maybe I'm getting gullible but I figure it's better that all those talking mummies and weird gadgets and that big bald-headed monster stay buried."
"You'll be losing your commission for this trip," Steel said. "You were hired to find the lost city."
"Easy come, easy go. The past three weeks hiking through Green Hell weren't so bad. Chalk it up to experience."
The Tiger Fury crossed over to stand next to his grey partner. "Mr Hogarty--Fred-- how would you feel about accepting a few assignments from us?"
"You have many skills that are useful in our work," Steel added. "And even after what you've seen, I see you're not hysterical or in denial. Your nerves are solid. Jennifer and Sun are invaluable partners in my mission, but I could use one or two more brave souls."
"Hmm. Everything's negotiable. We have to discuss terms, salary, that stuff." He started laughing. "Who am I kidding?! I was praying you guys would ask me!"
7/8/2020
2/22/1973
I.
He was running for his life in the wrong direction. Fred Hogarty hurtled along the great sluggish brown river Nyatowa, heading away from where his two-seater seaplane was moored. But he could not help it. Close enough that their ferocious howling could be heard was a war party of the Acerimos. Their voices were getting louder as they gained on him.
The saw-edged high grass was cutting through his corduroy pants and khaki shirt, both soaked through with sweat from exertion in this hot humid climate. At thirty-four, Hogarty was in good condition but this situation was calling on more than he had to give. Holstered at his hip was a big Colt .44 with five bullets in its chambers but if he had to use it, he knew it would be best to put the barrel in his own mouth.
He had seen these Acerimos skinning captives over hot coals while screams echoed out over the trees. The Jaguar Ghosts, the xenophobic tribe called itself. They thought they were the only true people in the world and everyone else was prey.
There was no way to escape this. His legs were beginning to tremble. Soon he would fall, the Acerimos would seize him and carry him off with gales of triumphant laughter. That night, the stew pots would be extra tasty for these devils. Fred Hogarty felt not terror but sorrow... regret for all that he would never get to do in life. And so many had warned him not to venture into this Green Hell on the border of Venezuela.
Behind, delighted shrieks rang out. A dozen Acerimos burst into view and quickened their pace. These warriors had sleeky glossy skin with a distinct coppery red tint. They were tall and gangly, with long arms and legs. Their heads were mostly shaven, with caps made of jaguar fur. And they carried spears and short swords and clubs with pieces of sharp stone embedded in the heads.
Seeing them from the corner of one eye, Hogarty wheeled toward the riverbank twenty yards to his side. He would still be killed if he dove in. Spears would pierce his body, but maybe the current would carry him away so at least he would not be eaten. Small comfort.
A different note of confusion echoed in the tribesmen's voices. Fred Hogarty had a brief glimpse of something made of shiny gold flashing past him, heading toward the Acerimos. Despite all his instincts, he slowed and turned back to see an astonishing whirlwind of violence.
At the center of the mayhem was a short stocky Asian man. Not more than five feet six inches tall and stocky, he had a wide face and a nose that had been broken at some point. The man was in his late forties, his head was almost shaven with just a black bristle covering it. He wore boots and leggings of soft leather, but his loosely-sashed tunic was of a beautiful gold silk that glimmered in the late afternoon sunlight. In black on the back of his tunic were those Korean ideograms for 'gold' and 'sun.'
Incredibly, the newcomer moved through the savage spear thrusts and furious clubbing as if the Acerimos were trying to miss him. His co-ordination and deftness were that skilled. At every opening he saw, the man crashed out a fist or foot with murderous precision. He seized a warrior's arm by the wrist and pulled it out straight, at the same time kicking up into the man's armpit to dislocate that arm with torn tendons. In an instant, four of the Acerimos sprawled dead in the damp grass and three were reeling back with crippling injuries.
One of the spears came hurtling straight for his face at point-blank range. The Asian snatched it out of the air as if grabbing a vagrant butterfly, then snapped the thick shaft without apparent effort. That broke the warriors' nerves. Those still alive spun and ran, the wounded following as best they could.
"Ah ha ha! Golden Sun has taught you manners!" taunted the man. He threw the spear fragments aside and whirled to make the nerve-stricken Hogarty jump. "You! The American Fred Hogarty from Northwest University. Come with me and your chances of living are much better."
"Ack. Eeee, Erk," was all he could manage.
"Come on, man, get hold of yourself." Golden Sun grabbed Hogarty's shirt front and started him off at a trot. Despite his near exhaustion, the explorer managed to keep up.
After a few minutes at that steady pace, Hogarty caught his breath enough to ask, "Who are you?"
"Ah, curious eh? Not surprising. I am Chong Kyu Sung from a little town north of Seoul. Everyone calls me Golden Sun. I am the first Tiger Fury in a hundred years, the first man that Teacher Chael has dignified as recognizing as a Master of Kumundu in a full century."
Seeing the blank reaction, Sun continued with disappointment, "That means nothing to you, does it? Ah well. I suppose Tel Shai is not common knowledge. We're almost at the camp. When you meet my partner, he'll explain better what a mess you have thrust yourself into."
The man called Golden Sun slowed to a halt, listening. He nodded in approval. "Jaguar Ghosts, they dare call themselves. They run more like Rabbit Ghosts. Come on, Mr Hogarty. Andrew Steel is waiting."
II.
Ahead was a natural clearing within sight of the riverbank. Two canvas tents had been set up facing a firepit over which a kettle whistled on crossed sticks. Moored by guidelines driven into pegs on the bank, a strange aircraft bobbed up and down on the murky river. Forty feet long, with a twenty-three foot wingspread, it resembled a Harrier jet but was sleeker and more advanced. Its finish was a flat battleship grey and behind the rear vanes were the letters STEEL 1. Hogarty gaped at it for only a second. His full attention was held by the famous figure who stood with arms folded across his chest and smiled wryly at his arrival.
An inch over six feet tall, trim and athletic, Andrew Steel's well-known face with its short white hair and light grey eyes was instantly recognizable. The uniform of high boots, trousers and front-flap tunic, all made of some material with a glossy metallic sheen, was the same grey hue as the aircraft.
"Good work, Sun," the grey man greeted them. "Mr Hogarty, welcome to our camp. I'm glad we reached this area in time."
"Steel? Andrew Steel, it IS you, isn't it? I've seen your picture in the papers."
"The one and only," laughed Golden Sun as he went over to kneel by the fire. "Some strong brewed ginseng tea is called for."
"We need to get moving," Hogarty said with an apprehensive backward glance. "Those savages might be coming back with reinforcements."
"I don't think so," Steel replied. "They'll return to the village to tell exaggerated stories of the hundred warriors who attacked them, then they will need a feast with banana beer to work themselves up to another frenzy. I calculate we have until tomorrow at this time. Come here, meet my other associate. Jennifer?"
Emerging from one of the tents and straightening up, a tall thin woman in her thirties fixed a baleful eye on Hogarty. Jennifer had dark brown hair pulled back in a severe bun and greenish eyes in a long, slightly bony face. She was wearing hiking boots, tan shorts and a white shirt with two deep breast pockets. The expression on her face was not friendly.
"This is Jennifer Christine Ross, for eight years a Maine Coast Guard helicopter pilot, and for one year a paramedic for a Bangor ambulance service. Christine, Fred Hogarty--"
"I know who he is," she snapped. "I read about that fiasco in Cancun."
"Hey, no fair," Hogarty began, "The police were being bribed by a local cartel. I didn't start anything."
From where he squatted sipping tea out of a tin mug, Sun chuckled. "Don't try to defend yourself, sir. It's like sweeping back the ocean with a broom."
Steel interrupted. "Even with a breather before the headhunters return, we need to move. Mr Hogarty, how is it we find you in this admittedly remote locale?"
"What? Well, I'm not much of an archaeologist myself. I sometimes assist on digs. My real job is scouting. I'm good at exploring, hiking, climbing mountains and wading through swamps. Mostly using common sense and basic survival skills. I've been hired by Northwestern University to see if rumors of ancient ruins here might have something to them. That's it."
Jennifer Ross sniffed as disdainfully as such a mere noise could convey, then went over to kneel by the fire and helped herself to her own mug of tea.
"Those natives chasing me," Hogarty went on. "They were Acerimos, judging by their jaguar totemization. I understood that they were found far south of here, at least a hundred miles away."
The grey man gestured toward where Sun and Jennifer sat. "Help yourself to some tea and biscuits. You ran at least three miles."
While Fred Hogarty fell to the ground rather than seating himself, grabbing an already buttered biscuit and getting it down in a gulp, Andrew Steel watched him. The famous grey man was not emotionless as he was often described as being. He was however restrained and muted. The pale eyes took in every detail of the visitor to his camp.
"You're right about the Acerimos," he said finally. "Their territory is southwest of here, along a tributary of the main river. Three weeks ago, they moved into this area and claimed it. Doing so, they terrorized and abused many of the Cojobes."
"That's the tribe I was expecting to meet. Not those jaguar bozos thirsting for my blood."
"The Cojobes are not a bad bunch," Steel said. "They've done some trade upriver near the capital, and they're on good terms with most of the other tribes in this region."
"Except for a lapse into infanticide and slavery now and then, they're all right," Jennifer put in. "Kind of neighbors you're glad to welcome. Fooey."
"She has always had that chip on her shoulder," Chong Kyu Sun said while sitting right next to the woman. "Big as a two by four. You get used to it."
Jennifer Ross hopped nimbly up onto her feet. "Let's skip the banter and get to the real problem. The Acerimos haven't muscled into this area on their own. They're being led by an outsider... a criminal from our so-called civilized world."
"She is right," Steel said.
"Damn straight I'm right. A sorcerer or Alchemist or whatever, some Midnight War scum has taken over the Acerimos and wants them to explore the ruins." She began tapping one toe on the hard black dirt. "And we know what the big prize is!"
"Sorry to be so out of the loop..." Hogarty began.
"The artifacts of Zhune!" she yelled at him. "The Lost Science of the Ancients."
III.
A half hour later, Jennifer Ross waved to them from the cockpit of the moored aircraft STORMBIRD. In an inflatable raft, she had done a hundred-point visual check of the plane, warmed up the fuel and oil, rundown operating systems. Now she was satisfied. Within a one minute space, she would be able to detach the moorings and taxi away from the shore for a vertical lift-off thirty seconds later. If she saw the three men running towards the shore, her procedure would be to let them swim to the plane, climb aboard while she backed away and then lift off as soon as they were inside.
"You've planned for emergencies," Hogarty said.
"Hah! More than once, we've had to scramble onto that bird and crawl in through the hatches while it was taking off," retorted Golden Sun. Going into a tent, he had changed his silk tunic for a more prosaic cotton T-shirt which was however bright canary yellow with the Korean ideograms drawn on the back. He strapped a small knapsack high on his back and twirled a four-foot hickory staff experimentally.
Watching the man, Hogarty ventured to ask, "I'm curious what martial art you were using. I've seen Hapkido demonstrations..."
"I am a Master of Kumundu," Sun answered. "Teacher Chael devises what techniques will work best for each student's build and personality. I'll let you in on a sort of secret. We Tel Shai knights heal faster than you would believe. I can strike armor full force with my bare fists because the tiny fractures in my bones seal up so quickly I hardly notice. Techniques a normal man would not dare to use are routine for me. Concussions only make me angry."
"Really. I never heard of such a thing. Can you show me how to heal like that?"
"Oh, that is forbidden by the Teachers of Tel Shai. I've said too much already." The Korean went over to satisfy himself that the cooking fire was completely out, although the odds of the damp vegetation of this jungle catching fire were infintesimal.
Andrew Steel gave Jennifer a sort of salute with his index and second fingers together by his head. This was a characteristic 'all clear' signal of his. The strange grey man seemed completely at ease in his uniform of heavy material, covering everything but head and hands, even in the high humidity and ninety degree heat. Not only was he not perspiring, he didn't seem uncomfortable.
"We had only arrived an hour before you headed our way," Steel told their guest. "While we were setting up camp, I heard the Acerimos war cries. Sun volunteered to discourage them from bothering us and so you joined our party."
They started along the riverbank, where passage was easier than through the tangle of underbrush. Brilliantly colored birds rose squawking in indignation at their approach. Fred Hogarty soon became self-conscious about his tripping over roots or being scratched by brambles which clung to his clothing. Chong Kyu Sun stalked like a panther in contrast. And Andrew Steel glided untouched through the increasingly dense growth, almost as if the branches slid off his grey uniform.
As they walked, Steel looked back over one shoulder at Hogarty. "Have you ever heard of Zhune?"
"Yeah, sure. Quite a controversy." Hogarty slowed as they passed an alligator which, jaws gaping wide, seemed to be napping and unaware of them. "Lots of argument whether it existed or not. Zhune was supposed to be one of the earliest civilizations but its timing doesn't make sense. It seems to have existed in areas which should have been underwater at the time or where Humans hadn't yet appeared."
"I can tell you Zhune was very real," Andrew Steel said with his quiet authority. "It was founded by survivors who somehow retained memories of the Darthan Age. The geniuses of Zhune discovered the fundamental secret of the universe, how to convert energy into matter and matter into energy. Many think they destroyed themselves with this knowledge."
"Much as we today are hellbent on doing to ourselves," added Chong Kyu Sun. "No matter how wise Men become, they are still fools."
"Be that as it may, Zhune relics have been discovered on rare occasions. They are still potent, all these thousands of years later, still capable of harnessing immense destructive force. I suspect these ruins are a Zhunite outpost and some of their artifacts may remain intact."
As they made their way up a steep hill, Fred Hogarty said, "Hey, I get it. The mysterious outsider who is stirring up the headhunters.. he's after the Zhune relics?"
"That is exactly what I fear. Maybe Karl Eldritch or Wu Lung or Melchius, in any case someone both ambitious and knowledgeable to be able to use the Zhune machinery." Andrew Steel crested the hill and pointed. "There you are, my friends. The lost outpost of Zhune."
IV.
Spread below them were twenty buildings made of dark greenish stone, long low structures with arched doorways and squat towers. The surface of each building was covered with ornate carvings of abstract shapes that could not be identified, and several life-sized statues of jaguars reared up on ledges that protruded out over the doorways. Arrayed along the walls were stakes stuck in the hard ground with yellowed human skulls at their upper points. In the slanting light before dusk, the skulls seemed to have expressions change on their bony faces.
"The Acerimos have already been here," Sun growled. "Them and their obsession with jaguars and with skulls!"
Turning slowly from the waist, hands down by his side, Steel said, "The Jaguar Ghosts have been here, adding their decorations. But building these structures took thousands of laborers working for generations. There must be hundreds of acres around here where fields were tilled, although it's all grown over now."
Golden Sun swung around protectively in front of Hogarty, pushing him back. "Movement by that pillar, grey one."
"I see it," Steel replied. He reached into the open side of his tunic's front flap and strapped a flat metal disc three inches across to his palm. "Sentries left on duty."
With a horrendous scream, three of the Acerimos leaped out from behind a stone pillar carved with ornate animals figures. They came running full tilt toward the intruders, spears brandishing.
"Turn completely around and cover your eyes," Steel ordered. As Hogarty automatically obeyed without understanding, the grey man raised his hand and the entire world seemed to turn intolerably bright. That flash only lasted half a second but it was enough. The attacking tribesmen tumbled to a halt, two of them losing their balance. They howled and wiped their eyes, dropping their weapons.
"Disarm them, would you?" Steel said to Golden Sun. The Tiger Fury strode over and threw the discarded spears far out into the underbrush, then yanked short knives from the Acerimos' loinclothes and flung them away as well.
"Goddam. I was turned around with my eyes closed and I STILL see spots," Hogarty said.
Steel replaced the disc inside his tunic and walked toward the yelling natives. "I try to use non-lethal defenses but nothing is completely harmless. These men may suffer some permanent damage."
By then, Sun had kicked the men lightly in the rear of each one's knee to get them down on the paved surface of the ruined city. When one tried to rise, he dope-slapped them on the backs of their heads while they still chattered to each other in terror.
In a fluid polysyllabic language, Andrew Steel's voice rang out, >"Hold still. Be quiet. Vision will come back to you if you do not move!"<
Leaning toward Sun, Fred Hogarty said, "How can he speak their dialect? I couldn't find more than a few phrases in any reference."
"Hah. I have yet to find a language the grey one does NOT know," Golden Sun answered. "You have not even begun to be impressed by him."
>"We come from the lands beyond the sunrise,"< Steel continued. >"Tell me of the outsider who has come into your lives."<
All three answered at once, and Steel made them repeat themselves one at a time. He told them to lie down and keep their eyes closed until their vision returned. To keep the prisoners secured, Golden Sun cut tough vines with a folding knife and tied their wrists and ankles together, finding them too demotalized to resist.
Steel said, "They tell me of a white man whose shoulders are above their heads. A man without hair, whose eyes are neither brown nor green, a cruel master who slays any who defy him."
"Well, that's bad news," Chong Kyu Sun grunted. "I was hoping Eldritch wouldn't be here in person."
"We must act quickly," agreed Steel. "That square mastaba seems most likely to be our goal."
"Wait, wait, give me something to work with." Hogarty was still blinking and tears trickled down his face but he could see well enough to move around. "What's this Eldritch business?"
"Karl Eldritch," Steel answered. "A sorcerer with twenty years of experience. He studied under a Darthan Kje and a Nekrosan before killing them to take their paraphenalia. Recently he has become obsessed with Zhune."
Unsnapped his flap holster, Hogarty did not know how to say, "You mean, he's an actual warlock? Black Magic, devil worship, that kind of thing?"
"And worse." Andrew Steel moved toward a square topped stone structure fifty feet to each side. The outer walls had been carved with not with jaguars but the beaked heads of vultures. Ages of exposure to weather and growth of vines obscured the macabre decorations. One side was fronted with a door wide enough to admit three men standing abreast, barred with a stone beam thick as a telephone pole.
"I believe this is the Crypt of Kings," the grey man said as he examined the door. "I have found only one reference to it."
"Listen, maybe I don't get the real meaning of what you and this Eldritch are up to," Hogarty objected. "This is a find of enormous significance. I need to inform the University. A team of archaeologists should be mapping and photographing this site before ANY digging is done..."
Golden Sun tugged on Hogarty's sleeve in a casual gesture that yanked the man off balance by two feet. "Not now. The grey one must act. If Eldritch gets his paws on Zhune relics, it's worse than a criminal lunatic grabbing nuclear warheads. That man knows too much already."
Placing his fists on his hips, the man in grey shook his head. "I hate to do this but it's necessary." He reached inside the front flap of his tunic and came out with two glass bottles, one with a red label and one with a green label, both marked X. Moving with great care, he dripped contents from the red bottle on each end of the crossbar, then sealed the bottle again and replaced it. Before continuing, he calmly said, "You two might want to step back."
Adding drops from the green bottle produced a cloud of vile black smoke and a bubbling hiss. Andrew Steel put the bottle back into his tunic and waved away the fumes. Deep ruts had been eaten into the stone crossbar, nearly severing it at each end.
Turning his head to see Hogarty gawking open-mouthed, Steel remarked, "You see why I keep the ingredients to that solvent separate, eh?" He bent and picked up a rounded stone bigger than his own head, lifting it as easily as he might lift a balloon. Steel brought the stone down hard in the center of the stone crossbar, which split and crashed in unequal halves to the ground.
"Closed for thirty thousands years," the grey man announced. "We're about the enter the Crypt of Kings."
VI.
Reaching into his knapsack, Golden Sun took a powerful flashlight for himself and handed one to Hogarty. After waiting a few minutes for outside air to circulate within the interior, the three men stepped into a mostly empty space. Arranged in an inward-facing circle were six thrones of elaborately sculpted stone, and on each sat a figure encased in a beaten gold plate armor. The face openings of those crested helmets revealed the shriveled faces of unspeakably dried mummies with empty eye sockets and lips long gone to show grimacing teeth.
In the center of their assembly stood a chest-high device of some unfamiliar copper-red metal which had a hot sheen to it in the beams of their flashlights. A rectangular box up on its narrow end was topped by an array of six metal globes ending in a spike pointing directly at one of the cadavers. Low and deep, felt more as a vibration through the feet rather than heard as a noise, the device hummed.
Fred Hogarty broke the hush with a mundane profanity and a long whistle. "I will never say I've seen everything. My God. The team that documents this will all be millionaires, museums will pay a national debt to own this junk. And of course, the guy who leads the dig team here will get a cut."
"Hah!" Golden Sun snorted. "I admire your optimism. You are thousands of miles within headhunter territory, facing Black Magic no one understands and likely to be confronted with the most dangerous warlock of our time. Survival should be on your mind, not wealth."
"I try to stay positive."
The Tiger Fury laughed out loud. "I like this one, Andrew. He has spirit."
Steel had circled the chamber, studying the inscriptions and the mummies at close hand, then getting down on one knee to examine the shimmering metal construct. "This is still potent," he said. "After so long, it retains its charge of atomic fire somehow."
Hogarty and Sun came over to stand near him. They kept playing their beams around the chamber, finding new carved jaguar heads snarling or stone replicas of human skulls leering at them. After a few minutes, Hogarty rushed back to the entrance to satisfy himself that the massive stone door was propped open with a segment of the crossbar and could not possibly swing shut to trap them inside.
"Wait," Steel said as he rose and took a step back. "This device has started humming."
Whispering through their heads, thin and reedy as a wind over the mountains, a voice echoed. "Behold, you stand before Urtan, last King of this outpost."
"And Simbol, King before him..."
"And Wavur Taf, King before him...."
Golden Sun clapped his hands over his ears. "I don't understand it. Grey one, what are those voices?"
"Recordings, perhaps," Steel answered with remarkable calm despite the situation. "These might be the words these mummies spoke into this mechanism and it's now playing them back."
"There are three of you, but one does not live as Men know life. He is cleverly made," whispered the voice.
"We have not come to steal your treasures, nor pay you disrespect," Golden Sun shouted.
The voice went on, "Where are the priests? The sacrifices left at our door?"
"Your empire fell ages ago," Andrew Steel said. "None of your subjects are alive this day."
"No," "It cannot be," and "This is blasphemy" all sounded at once. "Where are the serfs tending the fields? The market and bazaar? The brave soldiers in their rainment?"
"All gone," the grey man answered. "The very shape of the lands and the rivers have changed. You have slept long."
"We must think on this. Simbol, Wavur, what say you?" echoed that ethereal voice heard only in the mind.
Steel and Golden Sun caught each other's eye and moved a few steps nearer to the humming artifact. Fred Hogarty could hardly catch his breath, not because of the musty tomb but from excitement.
"Behold, wickedness draws close..." whispered that telepathic murmur from a brain long dead.
All three of the men spun toward the entrance. There, filling the door from side to side with his shaven head barely clearing the top, loomed an immense man all in black. Karl Eldritch.
VI.
"Stay where you are!" ordered the giant warlock. "Defy me at your extreme peril."
Chong-Kyu Sun and Fred Hogarty stood as if paralyzed at the dramatic entrance, but Andrew Steel folded his arms across his chest. The grey man's voice was steady, "You're playing with dangerous forces, Eldritch."
"More than you realize. I am close, so close, to understanding the ultimate secret of the Universe. Already I can summon primal atomic fire. Only I can charge up the Zhune artifacts to their full potency. They rightfully belong to me!" he concluded by striking his own chest with a massive fist.
"No..." the eerie voice drifted through the tomb. "You are mistaken..."
"This is one of your tricks, Steel," Eldritch rumbled. "I have warned you to stay out of my way."
"The secrets of Zhune are not for you... We still claim the secrets of our philosophers..." came thaty telepathic whisper.
"Oh, I see." Unexpectedly, Karl Eldritch boomed out a guffaw of genuine amusement. "This device is some sort of mental amplifier. The thoughts are still rattling around inside your dried skulls like a pea in a hollow gourd, hee hee."
"Eldritch, I must warn you," Steel began but was cut off by a sudden flare of intense white light.
The warlock held up a broad flat hand, from it shone that radiance that made eyes tear up and strange shadows dance. "Look and marvel, Andrew Steel. Primal atomic fire, basis of all that is. When I have mastered it fully, I will carve my name upon the surface of the Moon."
"I'm aware of what you can do," the grey man replied as if discussing mundane business. "My words are not a threat but a warning to turn back while you can."
"You waste my time. Flee if you will, this mechanism is mine." Moving lightly for his great size, the sorcerer took three long strides and closed his hands on the humming metal device.
"No!" hissed the telepathic voices in unison. "This will not be! Stop! You are commanded by the Kings of Zhune."
Stiffly, creaking as they moved, the six withered mummies pushed down with their gauntleted hands on the arms of their thrones and stood up. Bits of their armor flaked off, one of the Kings lost an arm which fell apart into pieces, a helmet tumbled away to reveal a leering skull covered with patches of leathery skin. But still they rose and loomed ominously over the dumbfounded Eldritch.
Without a word, Andrew Steel vaulted out of that tomb, snatching up Hogarty under one arm and Sun under the other, racing as if their added weight meant nothing. Out in the clammy night air, he dropped the two men and wheeled around to slam the thick stone door shut again.
"Huh? What? Who..?" muttered Hogarty as he tried to comprehend the rapid action of the past few seconds. More used to such events, Golden Sun joined Steel in jamming the broken pieces of the crossbar over the door. Even as they finished, blinding white light shone out through cracks in the stones and under the door, brighter than the noonday sun if stared at directly. A deep thump under their feet knocked them rolling away. A second later, with a thunderous crash and a choking cloud of dust, the crypt fell in upon itself.
"Oh, come on. What's LEFT? What can happen next?" grumbled Fred Hogarty as he struggled back to his feet, coughing at the stone dust in the air and trying to blink away the afterimages which swam in his vision. Next to him, Golden Sun hopped up, rubbing a bruised shoulder but alert and ready for more trouble.
Only Andrew Steel was unfazed by the collapse of the tomb. He stood staring at the wreckage, arms down by his sides, without a scratch on him or a mark on his uniform. That confident voice still remained in control. "Unfortunately, we can not spare the time now to excavate that mess," he said. "Sun, you remember we're meeting with the new INTERCEPT chief in a few days."
"Aw, we can come back with a crew and some equipment," Sun responded. "It's a sure bet that Karl Eldritch won't be going anywhere."
"I wish I was as certain," said the grey man. He turned to face Hogarty in the gloom. "Come to our camp, Fred. We'll fly you to where your plane is moored and escort you as far as the border. We are heading north, but you'll want to go to the capital, I assume."
The mercenary shook his head. "You know, I think it's better not to report this, to the University or to anyone. Maybe I'm getting gullible but I figure it's better that all those talking mummies and weird gadgets and that big bald-headed monster stay buried."
"You'll be losing your commission for this trip," Steel said. "You were hired to find the lost city."
"Easy come, easy go. The past three weeks hiking through Green Hell weren't so bad. Chalk it up to experience."
The Tiger Fury crossed over to stand next to his grey partner. "Mr Hogarty--Fred-- how would you feel about accepting a few assignments from us?"
"You have many skills that are useful in our work," Steel added. "And even after what you've seen, I see you're not hysterical or in denial. Your nerves are solid. Jennifer and Sun are invaluable partners in my mission, but I could use one or two more brave souls."
"Hmm. Everything's negotiable. We have to discuss terms, salary, that stuff." He started laughing. "Who am I kidding?! I was praying you guys would ask me!"
7/8/2020
