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"PROJECT REGULUS I: The People Breeders"
"Project Regulus I - The People Breeders"
11/1-11/4/1988
I.
After the guard passed around the corner, Chen emerged from the wall. He passed through the concrete and tile of the wall as if it was just an image cast by a projector, but the truth was the opposite. It was Chen who had become unsolid through the effect of the ensalir Dragon Pendant he wore beneath his black tunic. As soon as he was clear, the young Chinese exhaled and took a deep slow breath. When he was unsolid, he could not breathe and this limited how long he could remain in that state. Now he flattened up against the pastel green tiles and listened acutely for anything to indicate he had been detected. There were wooden doors with frosted glass panels at intervals along the hall but nothing else. No signs, no diagrams of fire exits, not even an arrow to indicate where some specified location might be. Only the dimmest possible illumination came from nightlights set at intervals down by the floor.
At twenty-six, Chen Wong-Lai was the only living master of the Fang Lung martial art his father had created. Some of that art had been taught to Shiro Mitsuru and some to Chen's lover Tang Ming, but most still remained only in the elder Chen's notes and in what the son had learned. Fang Lung was an art which emphasized stealth and misdirection, it stressed timing and cleverness over sheer strength in a fight. Chen slid down the brightly lit hall so silently that it seemed unnatural. He was wearing the rubber-soled slippers, snug leggings and tunic of his Dragon of Midnight role, with the long sleeved tunic ending in thin cotton gloves. The hood of the tunic had been drawn up, and under it Chen hid his face behind a full face black mask which was thin as gauze. On the brow of that mask was an outline of a rampant Imperial Dragon in thin white lines.
All of this, from the outfit to the mystic Dragon Pendant to the martial art, had been passed down from his father, Chen Lee-Sun. So far he had not added anything of his own, but he intended to. The new Dragon of Midnight moved quickly down the corridor and froze into position as his enhanced hearing detected someone breathing just ahead. The hallway widened into a lobby, with a pair of elevators visible. A closed-circuit camera swivelled slowly high up in one corner, but Chen knew he could disregard it. The gralic force of his Pendant blurred photographs and made video images grainy and unreadable. Anyone watching the monitor of the camera would think something was wrong with the equipment and start fiddling with the controls for a while.
Peering around the edge of the wall, Chen saw a lobby twenty feet by forty, with a pair of elevators and a stairwell behind a door with a clear panel. Two benches, a few plastic chairs and a table with some newspapers. Behind a simple metal desk, a heavyset middle-aged man in a bright Kelly Green security uniform sat and studied a slim paperback. He wore a billed cap and an automatic was in a flap holster on his right side. Beneath the black mask, Chen smiled. He reached inside his sleeve and drew a thick metal dart from the leather wristband.
With two quick noiseless steps, the Dragon of Midnight crept up on the guard and jabbed the dart into the side of the man's neck. With his other hand, he pressed down hard on the top of the guard's head to hold him in place. As always with the darts, there was a flash of hot pain as the needle broke the skin and then nearly instantaneous stupor caused by the injection of the Trom anesthetic. Three to four seconds were needed before the victims passed out completely, but they were confused and befogged so quickly that they never knew what had happened when they revived an hour or so later.
As the guard slumped limply back into his chair, Chen tucked the empty dart away and riffled through the man's pockets. A key ring. A packet of Kool Lights with three cigarettes still in it, and a cheap disposable lighter. A packet of tissues. That was all, no wallet and no ID. The uniform had no name tag, no photo ID card, nothing indicating who this man was or what he worked for. It was strange. A walkie-talkie sat on the desk. Chen opened the three drawers of the desk and found they were completely empty.
The Dragon of Midnight straightened up, perplexed in a way he did not expect to be. What kind of facility had nothing on premises to identify it? No work schedules, no memos to the staff, not even a list of the cafeteria menus? It was weird and he was beginning to get creeped out. Top secret was one thing, but the CIA and the Mandate were plastered with paperwork. Just what was going on here with Project Regulus?
Chen began to search the lobby itself, still finding nothing. There was a fire extinguisher clipped to the wall, red lights over every door which presumably would flash in emergencies, even an in-house telephone at face level near the elevators. But nothing was marked.
The Dragon abruptly spun and flashed back to the hallway he had emerged from, swinging around out of sight. He had heard the hum of one of the elevators descending. As he cautiously watched around the corner, one elevator dinged open and an impressive specimen stepped out. The man was well over six feet tall, slim and fit. He was wearing a one-piece jumpsuit and boots of the same Kelly Green as the guard's uniform, with deep breast pockets and a belt with several pouches. The man had a strong face with a square jaw and deepset dark eyes, his thick mop of hair was jet black and he held himself with a kingly air. Yet, his most striking feature was his ashen grey skin. He had the colorless skin of a corpse.
At soon as he saw the unconscious guard, the big man reacted unexpectedly by charging directly at the corner where Chen was concealed. The Dragon had already tugged an anesthetic dart from his sleeve and he flung it fast and hard. The man slapped it aside as if brushing away a fly, and Chen gawked in disbelief. He would have sworn no normal Human could have done that. A second later, the man in green was upon him with outstretched hands. Chen dropped into a low stance and blasted a dozen alternating left-right body blows that would killed most men, then finished with a hooking right punch. The punches had no effect at all. To his complete shock, the man caught that punch in his open hand and stopped it cold. A simple straight jab from his other hand cracked Chen hard in the face and made his knees sag.
Realizing he was up against someone stronger and faster than normal, the Dragon of Midnight spun so his back was to the man, raised the hand that his opponent was gripping as high as he could, and threw the grey-skinned man over his shoulder in a complete flip that crashed him hard to the floor. Although he released Chen's hand, the man was not harmed by the impact and immediately leaped to his feet again, just in time to catch a high side kick directly to the face. Chen had thrown that kick full power, it was meant to be a killing blow, and he was distressed to see his enemy merely get knocked down and immediately rise unharmed.
The grey-skinned man shouted in a cultured baritone, "This is Rigel One. Intruder in Project Regulus. All Rigelites to the lobby at once." His voice echoed strangely as if being picked up on some intercom system. Chen had reached a decision. He felt he could hold his own against this man, Rigel One if that was his name, and soon be able to get a dart or two to incapacitate him. But if others like him were on the way, Chen would likely be captured and he did not want that at this point.
As Rigel One rushed at him, Chen sidestepped and cracked him viciously in the back of the head with an elbow. Then the Dragon of Midnight raced down the corridor and ran full tilt at a wall. Instead of striking it, though, he passed through it in a barely visible shimmer of blue light. Holding his breath, his vision uncertain, he moved through the wall and emerged out into a freezing Montana night. Stars flared brilliantly overhead. The only man-made illumination should have been a pair of lightpoles looking down on an empty parking lot, but they were dark as well. Still moving, Chen raced out into the night. Half a mile on, his car sat where he had left it behind a lone scraggly tree. The Dragon beeped it open with his keys and slid in behind the wheel. As he started up the new MG convertible, he glanced over at the strange complex he had infiltrated.
The lone three-story building with its separate annex was dark. Not a window was lit. If not for the fact he knew there were at least two people in there, the place would seem deserted. Chen put the red MG in drive and swung the car around just as he saw to his horror that Rigel One was hurtling toward him. The big man in the green jumpsuit was running faster than a man should be able to, covering the ground in a blur. Chen Wong-Zhen slammed his foot on the accelerator and the sports car almost left the group as it roared onto the access road. In the rearview mirror, he saw with relief that the big man was being left behind. When he hit the main highway, Chen finally sighed in relief. For a minute there, he had been worried that that strange man would have overtaken his car on foot.
II.
Fifteen miles away, Chen turned off the highway and drove across the hard-packed frozen dirt. After another mile or two, he cleared a rise and pulled up before a black stealth helicopter that stood alone on the high plains. As the Dragon of Midnight got out of his car, two men in black field suits with visored helmets stepped around from the other side of the copter to greet him.
"Good to see you made it back, Chen. What's the report?" Bane asked.
Chen recounted what had happened. "It's all very strange," he said. "I never saw any research facility with absolutely nothing in writing. No signs anywhere, no charts or schedules on the walls. None of the doors were marked. The guard's uniform was generic. Just strange."
Larry Taper had raised the visor of his helmet to reveal a wry expression. Normally, he did not wear a field suit because he summoned the Silver Skull armor when trouble started, but it was freezing out here on the plains in late November and the insulated field suit kept him comfortable. "Indubitably. Yet the real pachyderm on the playground has to be your verdant playmate. His ashen countenance is intriguing. Rigel and Regulus are obviously both stars, by that I denote celestial bodies and not thespians. What significance does that bestow on both that individual and the facility?"
"And I thought I spoke English well!" Chen snorted. "Rigel One is a handful to tangle with, I'll say that much. He's strong and fast, at Kumundu Master level or maybe a bit more. He didn't seem to have any combat training, but maybe he thinks he doesn't need any."
Jeremy Bane was gazing off into the darkness where the facility would be. "All I know about Project Regulus is the name," he said. "One of my observors caught a reference to it in an FBI memo that wasn't supposed to leave the office. Apparently, Department 21 Black hasn't got enough information to proceed on it yet."
"You have friends in the damndest places," Chen told his captain.
"It took twenty years to build my network," said Bane. The Dire Wolf still watched the night as if expecting an attack, then he turned to Chen and Taper. "We have no evidence that anything illegal is going on in there. As far as we know, it's a building out miles from nowhere, and since it's unlit and Chen only saw two people in there, maybe it's closed down. It could be some government project that lost its funding."
Taper made a scoffing noise. "The disbelief in your vocalization is blatant, Jeremy. You are already determined to investigate this Project Regulus."
The Dire Wolf nodded slowly. "You know me pretty well, Larry. Yeah. All my instincts say to look into this place. If nothing else, I want a look at this Rigel One character. Okay. My plan is to disable their electricity and go in and see what we find. You guys with me?"
"You bet," the Dragon of Midnight answered. The faint British accent from his schooling in Hong Kong was more prominent as he grew excited. "We're certainly not going to just walk away and forget about this place."
"Seconded," Taper said. "Like our captain here, I just have a premonition this facility indulges in nefarious skullduggery. Also, I'm bored."
"All right then. It won't be the first time we've stuck our noses in where we weren't invited." Bane slid open a cargo panel in the side of the CORBY and removed an electronic instrument that was the size of a Walkman. "I've got the Trom jammer. We'll leave the CORBY here out of sight and ride over there in Chen's sports car. Of course, once I activate the jammer, your MG won't work either, Chen."
"As long as it doesn't do any permanent damage, I'm okay with that."
"Let's go then." Bane swung open the front passenger seat and climbed in, while Chen Wong-Lai got behind the wheel and Dr Lawrence Taper seated himself in the back. With the headlights off, Chen drove back across the frozen dirt toward the mysterious facility.
III.
Leaving Chen's car on the farthest end of the parking lot, they got out and watched as Bane pressed two buttons on the Trom jammer. For the next thirty minutes, no electrical circuit would function within a three mile radius of the device. This included the light enhancers in their own helmets, so both Bane and Taper left their visors up. They raced past the main entrance with its smoked glass doors and around to the side. Finding a plain metal door set in a bare wall, the three of them came to a halt.
"This is where my talent comes in useful," said Chen. He took a deep breath and walked into the concrete wall, passing through it effortlessly. A second later, the metal door opened from within and he gestured for his teammates to enter.
"Misplacing your keys never poses a predicament for you," Taper told the Dragon, who chuckled. All three of them were dressed in black, difficult to spot in poor lighting and now impossible to see in any case, given the darkness inside the building. With the power out and no windows to the outside, the corridors were completely black. Bane led the way, one hand on the wall to his right. All three listened intently, but it was Chen who first halted his partners with a hand on their shoulders.
In a whisper barely audible next to them, the Dragon of Midnight said, "Voices. Twenty yards ahead, behind a closed door." They crept furtively forward and soon could spot a dim flicker of light along the floor which showed the bottom edge of a door. The three KDF members pressed up against the surface, slowing their own breathing to enhance their hearing and were completely surprised to hear a thin, reedy voice say, "Do come in, gentlemen."
The Dire Wolf did not hesitate. He pressed down on the handle and swung the door open. They entered a conference room with a large round table surrounded by swivel chairs. Several phones sat on that table, and a coffeemaker with the usual paraphenalia of cups, swizzle sticks and sugar packets occupied a counter against one wall. The room was lit with the uncertain flicker of two candles that had been set up on dishes.
Sitting at that table were three strange identical men. All had on the same Kelly green jumpsuits with high collars, breast pockets and boots that Rigel One had been seen wearing. The men were small and frail, not much over five feet tall, with narrow shoulders and delicate bone structure. Their most startling feature was the size of their heads. Above wizened elderly faces, the foreheads rose twice as high as normal, with only a fringe of feathery white hair around the ears and nape.
Even in the flickering candlelight, their skin was the same lifeless grey that Rigel One had shown. The elderly man in the center of the three rose slightly and bowed his enormous head. "Welcome to Project Regulus. Please be seated."
Entering the room, Bane instantly appraised it for traps or hidden doors through which attackers might emerge or for any sign of weapons near the old men. He grudgingly decided the risks of the situation were acceptable. "I assume you're going to explain what is going on?"
The grey-skinned old man smiled. "If you are willing to listen, Mr Bane. Oh yes, we know you. Jeremy Bane, the notorious Dire Wolf. Our Master has briefed us on you and your colleagues. Dr Lawrence Taper, the Silver Skull. Chen Wong-Zhen, the Dragon of Midnight. Such colorful title you lads bear. I am Sirius One, and these are my fellow Sirians. What is it you wish to know?"
"That query unleashes the veritable deluge," muttered Taper. He was examining the nearest of the Sirians. "Not hydrocephalism, rather accelerated cranial growth after adulthood. Identical in three unrelated specimens indicates some deliberate program to enhance brain capacity."
"You are quite right," Sirius One told him calmly. "We are genetically identical. I was first, so I have some slight cellular integrity that my brethren lack. It is best explain as being similar to making a copy of a photograph and losing some detail."
Bane and Chen exchanged worried glances. The Dire Wolf asked, "So you yourself are not the original, then? You're a sort of, I don't know, modified clone of a person?"
"Bravo," smiled the grey-skinned old man. "Really, you are catching on more quickly than I had hoped."
"And just where is the original?"
"He gave all he had to start the process," Sirius One said. "A noble sacrifice."
"I don't like the sound of that," muttered Chen.
"Heads up," Bane snapped, spinning around just as the first of a dozen big men in the green jumpsuits rushed in through the open door. He dropped into a crouch and smashed a vicious left hook that should have broken the attacker's jaw but which did not apparent harm. The Rigelite's head twitched slightly and he seized Bane by the arm, pulling him into a simple straight jab that connected perfectly. The Dire Wolf was taken offguard by that since he had expected the opponent to drop after the first blow, and he was dazed by the punch. More of the Rigelites poured in, crowding the small room. Taper and Chen were taken by overwhelming force, being struck from every side at once by opponents stronger and faster than Human. The KDF members got in a few blows, and the Dragon almost wiggled free but in a few seconds, they were beaten unconscious. Taper did not even have a chance to summon the armor and weapons of the Silver Skull. Bane managed to kill one of the Rigelites with a hand-edge to the neck, but a second later he was pinned. With a strongman holding each arm and leg out straight, even the Dire Wolf could not defend himself against more of the Rigelites pounding at him. He took a lot of punishment but eventually he was beaten unconscious.
As the big men in green picked up the battered forms of the three KDF members, their leader turned to the old men at the table. "The situation is under control, Sirius One."
"As was intended, Rigel One. Secure them. The Master is on his way. You have carried out your function satisfactorily." The withered old man raised a hand in salute. "Now Project Regulus can begin its second phase."
With just the faintest tinge of pride, Rigel One answered, "How could it have gone otherwise? It is what we were bred to do."
III.
Twenty minutes passed before Bane snapped back to full awareness. One eye was swollen shut and the front of his face felt congested with dry blood. Everything hurt. He had not taken a thrashing like that in some time. He tried to sit up and couldn't. After a second, the Dire Wolf got a grasp of the situation. He was tied down to some sort of sturdy examination table. Raising his head, Bane saw he was wearing only the one-piece Trom armor which covered him except for head, hands and feet. This had happened before. Enemies might remove the field suit jacket, shirt and slacks and boots, even the helmet. But the armor was sealed in a way that Human knowledge could not understand yet.
His head throbbed but that would pass soon. The Tagra diet he had been on at Tel Shai for more than a decade had enhanced his healing abilities beyond what medical science could explain. Already his bruised eye was opening and the swelling in his face was easing. He would not suffer permanent damage from the beating, there would be no blood clots or concussion. It still hurt, though, he reflected sourly. Bane raised his head and looked around.
Larry Taper and Chen Wong-Zhen were fastened down to identical tables on either side of him. They had also been stripped down, Taper to the flexible armor and Chen to just a pair of white boxers. Both of them were groaning and starting to stir. It would only be a moment until they were conscious as well.
They were in a brightly lit operating theatre. This meant the jammer out in Chen's car had shut itself off after the timer hit thirty minutes. Bane recognized some of the medical equipment surrounding them but not all. Some of the electronic consoles looked pretty advanced. Strangest of all was what resembled an old-fashioned bathtub up on a wheeled platform, made of a gleaming copper-colored metal with a hot sheen. Bane's heart sank as he recognized that metal and he realized the enemy they would be facing. It seemed they would never be rid of him.
The door clicked as it unlocked and swung inward. One of the tall men in the green jumpsuits entered and caught Bane's eye. The Dire Wolf said casually, "Rigel One, I guess? How can we tell you guys apart if you don't wear numbers?"
"It is enough that we can tell," answered the grey-skinned man. He watched Bane thoughtfully. "You three showed unexpected capabilities while being captured. You yourself ended a Rigelite's life. You are not normal Humans."
"Coming from you, that's funny! Tell me, do they grow you Rigelites in test tubes or what?" Bane was testing the restraints on his arms and legs but found nothing encouraging in the way they held him. At the moment, he had no plan for getting free by himself. And yet... if he could tip the bed over and get hold of that railing along the wall...
"I am not here to answer your questions," the strange man answered without emotion. Despite the way he had captured the intruders, his attitude toward them seemed to be just mild curiosity. "Here is where Deneb One will take over." He stepped aside to allow a woman to enter the room, just as Taper and Chen came back to full awareness with some grumbling and cursing.
Deneb One was slightly above average height, slim rather than voluptuous in one of the Kelly green jumpsuits which had been tailored more carefully than the ones worn by the men. She had glossy straight black hair which reached down past her shoulder blades and bright blue eyes which stood out dramatically in the grey face. Despite the colorless skin, she was gorgeous and had obvious been chosen for that factor. A slight smile barely turned up the corners of her full lips as she met Bane's hostile gaze.
"Good evening," she said. "I am Deneb One, and you men have been captured breaking into a restricted area."
"Nothing is posted," Bane growled. "There are no signs saying this is private property, no warnings against trespassing."
"Project Regulus is above Top Secret," she continued as if she hadn't heard him. "Who knows you have come here?"
"Everyone!" Bane snapped. "My lawyer, my staff. The NYPD. Department 21 Black of the FBI."
"Forgive my disbelief," Deneb One said. "I have done some research on you and your Kenneth Dred Foundation. You act without legal justification as mere vigilantes. I have to warn you, you are in an unsafe situation right now." She turned to face the other two. "Dr Lawrence Taper, Chen Wong-Zhen. This applies to you as well. You would be wise to cooperate and volunteer whatever information Project Regulus asks of you, for your own safety."
"What ARE you people?" Chen demanded. "Aliens? Zombies? Clones? What's the story?"
"You may receive answers in due time," Deneb One told the Chinese man. "But for now you will be answering questions rather than asking them. I think we might as well start with you." She knelt and unlatched the examination table which Chen was lying upon, turned it and started to push it toward the door. As she paused in the hallway beyond, she turned back toward Bane and Taper with the same confident smile. "This will not take long." And she closed the door on them.
"She brightens a room by leaving it," Taper observed. "Are you rejuvenated to your usual superlative level of competence, captain?"
"Yeah, I'm ready for action," Bane said. "Time for you to bust us loose."
The air shimmered around Taper and instantly he was wearing the black leather tunic and leggings and high boots of the Silver Skull, with the breastplate and greaves under it. On his head had appeared the macabre helmet which gave his role its name; sheathed at his belt was the sword Chalcemar and on his left forearm was a circular shield two feet across. All this gear had been ensorcelled by the Eldarin themselves to appear on him whenever he summoned it, and now it neatly snapped the restraints apart that had been holding him down.
"That's a neat trick," Bane admitted. Taper drew the sword and cut through the tough leather straps on the table. The Dire Wolf leaped to his feet, wearing only the flexible Trom armor, barefoot and bareheaded. "Thanks, Larry. See anything in here that could make a weapon?"
"Hmmm. Prospects seem decidely sparse." The dramatic figure in black and silver began digging through cabinets. "Mostly diagnostic supplies. You can't duel with an oral thermometer."
"No, but these will be useful." Bane slammed a drawer shut and stood up with a large scalpel in each hand, twirling them and testing their balance. "Okay, let's interrupt whatever they have in mind for Chen."
Opening the door, Bane peered cautiously out but spotted no one. With the Silver Skull beside him, he began moving down the unmarked corridor and listening at each doorway. As they neared a bend in the hall, one of the Rigelites swung into view. The Dire Wolf leaped forward, spinning sideways to drive a stiff leg directly into the center of the grey-skinned man's chest, pinning him hard against the wall. Bones cracked audibly. The Rigelite sagged and fell to the floor as Bane withdrew his leg and glared down at him.
"Ouch," said Taper mildly.
"I was pulling my blows before," Bane said. "Now that I know these goons are tougher than normal, I'm not playing any longer with them." He slammed the palm of his hand just above the doorknob behind him, snapping the lock cleanly, and hauled the limp figure into that room. For a second, he glanced around but there was only a meeting table, chairs, a bank of phones and some video equipment. Nothing was labelled. No papers were in sight. The walls were bare.
"This place is weird," Bane muttered as he left the injured Rigelite in a corner. "How do they get by without records? It doesn't make sense."
"A profound perplexity," answered the Silver Skull. He had sheathed his sword and was poking around for clues. "Some enlightenment would be gratifying."
Bane yanked the Rigelite's jumpsuit off without much gentleness and got into it. It was too large, but he tightened the belt around his gaunt waist and pulled back the sleeves. The boots were an adequate fit. The deep pockets only held four keys on a ring and a laminated card with a bar code on it. The Dire Wolf said, "Let's see how Chen is doing," and headed out into the hall again.
Within a few minutes, they heard a voice through one of the doors with frosted glass panes. It sounded like Deneb One, speaking at normal conversational level. Bane found the door wasn't locked and walked through into a brightly lit chamber filled with five identical women in the green jumpsuits. They were standing around the table where Chen was tied down, facing away from the door.
Deneb One held up the Dragon Pendant on its fine-link chain and held it where Chen could see it dangle. "Why does this trinket fog film? Why does it blur videotape? Tell us and we can move on toward your release."
"It's magick," laughed Chen Wong-Zhen. "That pendant was crafted by the immortal Eldarin on Elvedal itself, thirty thousand years ago. Happy now?"
Even with the dead grey skin, Deneb One was beautiful and she was trying to use that on the Dragon of Midnight. She leaned close to him, pressing one soft breast against his arm and breathing in his face. "No, tell me the truth about this pendant."
"I'll take that," interrupted Bane, yanking the sigil from her grip and shoving her roughly aside to collide with two other identical Denebians. As they struggled not to fall, Deneb One yelled, "Call the Rigelites!" The Dire Wolf placed the Dragon Pendant around Chen's neck and stepped back. Holding his breath, Chen sat up and hopped off the table as he passed through the restraint straps as if they were smoke.
Taper was blocking the doorway, preventing the Denebians from leaving the room. He had one gloved hand on the wall phone, so that they could not call for help either. "Curb your enthusiasm," he said in a voice made hollow by the skull-shaped helmet.
"Thanks, captain," said the Dragon. "What's the situation?"
"Still trying to make sense of this place," Bane said. He gripped Deneb One by the shoulder and spun her to face him, and his voice was cold. "Time for answers. Who are you people? What are you?"
"We are Denebians, members of the Deneb class. Records-keepers and archivists," she answered. "When the Rigelites get here, you will be sorry you laid hands upon us."
"We'll see," Bane told her. "Why do you all look alike?"
She seemed confused. "Why, we grow from the same source. Of course we look alike."
"So, you ARE some kind of clones. You're grown here at this facility to serve as its labor force. What role do the Rigelites serve?"
"Security. The Sirians are researchers. The Arcturans are laborers." She abruptly ducked down and tried to lunge past Bane, but he caught her with an iron grasp on her shoulder that made her wince. "You are hurting me!"
"Just a few more answers," the Dire Wolf said as everyone in that room watched. "I think I already know, but who is behind all this? Who is the mastermind behind Project Regulus?"
Before she could answer, the entire room turned solid white, unbearably bright and hot as a wave of force swept them all off their feet and flung them to the floor. For a moment, they were all dazed and bewildered, unable to see as their vision was filled with swirling spots. Then Bane slowly got to his feet with dogged perseverance, swaying but determined.
Filling the doorway was a bulky man seven inches over six feet in height, wearing a well-cut dark blue pinstripe suit. His bullet-shaped head was clean-shaven and his pale hazel eyes glowered under a heavy brow ledge. One meaty hand lowered with a crackle of primal atomic fire still playing about it.
Karl Eldritch said, "I have all the answers you seek, my old friend."
IV.
As everyone struggled to recover from that blast, the giant warlock stepped into the room and started helping the Denebians up. "All of you, leave us. Report to the Sirians for now. I want to speak with these men." As the women groggily made their way out the door, Eldritch turned to the three KDF members. "For once, let us speak in a civilized manner, eh?"
"All right. A truce, for now." Bane answered grudgingly. He pulled out a chair and settled himself, and his teammates followed his example with some bewilderment. "We've fought a dozen times and where does it get either of us?"
"Finally, the light dawns." Eldritch seated himself on the opposite side of the table. Even seated, he loomed up over his enemies. "I cannot say I am too surprised to find you here, Bane. You seem to sniff me out wherever I am working... perhaps the Dire Wolf name is no coincidence."
"I've lost track of how many times we thought you were dead. What was it last time? Dragged by a giant squid to the bottom of the ocean? Frozen solid? Having a hole blown open through your chest? It doesn't matter. Sooner or later, you recover and just start up again." Bane placed his palms on the table and leaned forward. There was no anger in his voice, only a sort of resignation. "I think you were right when you said you're now immortal."
"So it would seem," Eldritch answered. "The greatest secret of the ancients! My body converts energy into matter and matter into energy as needed. I no longer need to breathe or eat or sleep. No matter what, my work goes on."
"Well, I have not crossed paths with you before," said Chen. He was studying the giant warlock warily. "All I know is that you collect artifacts from ancient civilization."
"Zhune! Yes indeed. The ancient wisdom of Zhune, where the first scientists produced by the human race created wonders. They unlocked the basic secrets of the universe, and only I can read their inscriptions." Eldritch seemed excited at the topic. "I can convert the tiniest particle of my body into energy and unleash primal atomic fire... as you saw. The relics of Zhune are advanced beyond what modern technology can match."
"We've seen that," Bane admitted. "So let me guess. This facility. This Project Regulus, it's your latest attempt at recreating Zhune science?"
"Exactly. I have recreated what Zhunites called 'the cauldron of life.' It is a means to spawn copies of a life form, but refined and modified. These are the staff at Project Regulus. The Rigelites, the Sirians, the Denebians. I am breeding the perfect work force, devoted and loyal as normal Humans can never be."
"Clones," Bane said. "The ancients discovered cloning?"
"In a way," Eldritch replied slowly. "But not quite. The essence of the donor is injected into a seed cell, which grows rapidly in the cauldron. In a few months, the specimen is full grown, emerging with most of the memories of the donor but more compliant."
The Dire Wolf's eyes were getting angry, despite his efforts to remain civil. "Let me guess. You intend to breed a perfect army. Obedient soldiers ready to fight for whatever country you sell them to!"
"No, no, not at all. You misunderstand. The chemicals required are much too expensive. An army of these specimens would never be practical, each one costs as much as a jet fighter to produce. I am creating my staff solely for research." Eldritch raised a thick forefinger in an admonishing gesture. "Have any of my people left this facility? No. Have I broken any laws? Have I posed any threat to anyone? No. We are minding our own business here. Perhaps you should do the same, Mr Bane."
"You're suggesting we should just walk away?"
"Why not? You are so used to confrontation when it is not necessary. I assure you I am doing no harm here. My researchers and laborers and archivists are busily working on exploring the secrets of ancient Zhune for me. Soon I will be ready to publish. I expect a Nobel Prize for my work, to be honest."
Bane turned to his partners. "Chen. Larry." He stood up and they did the same. Taper had slid the circular shield off his arm as he was seated and now he strapped it back on. The Dire Wolf tugged at the green jumpsuit he was wearing and said, "Naturally, we will expect our gear to be returned."
"That will not present a problem." Eldritch gestured at the open doorway and a Denebian woman stuck her head in. "Deneb Nine, fetch the clothing of our visitors, will you?"
In a minute, a short stocky man in one of the bright green jumpsuits appeared, hauling two duffel bags. He was not like the others they had seen, but a muscular brute with a simple-minded expression on his coarse features. He had only a small tuft of brown hair on a cranium that seemed almost pointed. The man dropped the full duffel bags in front of Eldritch and stood there placidly waiting for instructions.
"This is an Arcturan," the warlock explained proudly. "They love labor. Carrying heavy loads, digging and building, these are their greatest joys. Isn't that right, Arcturus Three?"
"Yes, master," answered the beefy man in a monotone.
"Place those bags outside by the helicopter out on the plains," Eldritch dismissed him. "Then return here." As the worker obeyed, the warlock turned back to his enemies. "A sensible precaution, I think you will agree. Oh, I know your stealth copter is out there. Now, I need you to swear that you will leave me in peace."
Bane paused a long moment before answering. "I'll go this far. If we don't hear anything about you posing a public menace- if these Rigelites and whatever don't hurt anyone or go on a crime spree- I promise the KDF will not come back here. Sound fair?"
"I find that acceptable," Eldritch said. "In time, I predict you will be glad you made this decision. The cure for many diseases will come from my research here. You will have done mankind a favor."
The Dire Wolf paused by the door. "We'll see." With that, he led Chen and Taper out into the corridor toward the exit. Eldritch stood with folded arms until he was sure the intruders were well away from the facility.
"Neither of us believe in this true," the warlock rumbled to himself, "It only buys time."
Rigel One appeared in the doorway and said, "Master, the seeds are established. Do you wish to see them?"
"Of course." The giant warlock followed the grey-skinned man down a corridor that branched and took the left turn. Another Rigelite stood before an unmarked door. As they approached, the guard stepped aside and the door opened on its own at the proximity of Karl Eldritch.
They entered a chamber dimly lit with a lurid deep red illumination. Two of the Sirian researchers stood before a complicated appartus of intertwined tubes and vats of smoking fluid. The Sirians turned their oversized heads to stare up at the giant sorcerer. "Everything seems nominal, master," said Sirius One.
"Good. I am pleased." Eldritch examined a rack which held three transparent vats the size of gallon jugs, fed by tubes of bubbling liquids and warmed by red heating elements. In each one, something humanoid the size of a tadpole floated and twitched feebly.
The warlock peered at the tiny organisms. "The other two intruders were of no interest to us. Their abilities derive from the talismans they carry. But our main opponent, he is different. His abilities are innate. Nearly three times as fast as a normal Human, that's the Dire Wolf." Eldritch tapped one of the vats thoughtfully. "And now there will be three who will surpass him. A wolf pack." Suddenly, laughter he could no longer keep pent inside burst out of Eldritch. "A Dire Wolf pack!"
12/2/2014
11/1-11/4/1988
I.
After the guard passed around the corner, Chen emerged from the wall. He passed through the concrete and tile of the wall as if it was just an image cast by a projector, but the truth was the opposite. It was Chen who had become unsolid through the effect of the ensalir Dragon Pendant he wore beneath his black tunic. As soon as he was clear, the young Chinese exhaled and took a deep slow breath. When he was unsolid, he could not breathe and this limited how long he could remain in that state. Now he flattened up against the pastel green tiles and listened acutely for anything to indicate he had been detected. There were wooden doors with frosted glass panels at intervals along the hall but nothing else. No signs, no diagrams of fire exits, not even an arrow to indicate where some specified location might be. Only the dimmest possible illumination came from nightlights set at intervals down by the floor.
At twenty-six, Chen Wong-Lai was the only living master of the Fang Lung martial art his father had created. Some of that art had been taught to Shiro Mitsuru and some to Chen's lover Tang Ming, but most still remained only in the elder Chen's notes and in what the son had learned. Fang Lung was an art which emphasized stealth and misdirection, it stressed timing and cleverness over sheer strength in a fight. Chen slid down the brightly lit hall so silently that it seemed unnatural. He was wearing the rubber-soled slippers, snug leggings and tunic of his Dragon of Midnight role, with the long sleeved tunic ending in thin cotton gloves. The hood of the tunic had been drawn up, and under it Chen hid his face behind a full face black mask which was thin as gauze. On the brow of that mask was an outline of a rampant Imperial Dragon in thin white lines.
All of this, from the outfit to the mystic Dragon Pendant to the martial art, had been passed down from his father, Chen Lee-Sun. So far he had not added anything of his own, but he intended to. The new Dragon of Midnight moved quickly down the corridor and froze into position as his enhanced hearing detected someone breathing just ahead. The hallway widened into a lobby, with a pair of elevators visible. A closed-circuit camera swivelled slowly high up in one corner, but Chen knew he could disregard it. The gralic force of his Pendant blurred photographs and made video images grainy and unreadable. Anyone watching the monitor of the camera would think something was wrong with the equipment and start fiddling with the controls for a while.
Peering around the edge of the wall, Chen saw a lobby twenty feet by forty, with a pair of elevators and a stairwell behind a door with a clear panel. Two benches, a few plastic chairs and a table with some newspapers. Behind a simple metal desk, a heavyset middle-aged man in a bright Kelly Green security uniform sat and studied a slim paperback. He wore a billed cap and an automatic was in a flap holster on his right side. Beneath the black mask, Chen smiled. He reached inside his sleeve and drew a thick metal dart from the leather wristband.
With two quick noiseless steps, the Dragon of Midnight crept up on the guard and jabbed the dart into the side of the man's neck. With his other hand, he pressed down hard on the top of the guard's head to hold him in place. As always with the darts, there was a flash of hot pain as the needle broke the skin and then nearly instantaneous stupor caused by the injection of the Trom anesthetic. Three to four seconds were needed before the victims passed out completely, but they were confused and befogged so quickly that they never knew what had happened when they revived an hour or so later.
As the guard slumped limply back into his chair, Chen tucked the empty dart away and riffled through the man's pockets. A key ring. A packet of Kool Lights with three cigarettes still in it, and a cheap disposable lighter. A packet of tissues. That was all, no wallet and no ID. The uniform had no name tag, no photo ID card, nothing indicating who this man was or what he worked for. It was strange. A walkie-talkie sat on the desk. Chen opened the three drawers of the desk and found they were completely empty.
The Dragon of Midnight straightened up, perplexed in a way he did not expect to be. What kind of facility had nothing on premises to identify it? No work schedules, no memos to the staff, not even a list of the cafeteria menus? It was weird and he was beginning to get creeped out. Top secret was one thing, but the CIA and the Mandate were plastered with paperwork. Just what was going on here with Project Regulus?
Chen began to search the lobby itself, still finding nothing. There was a fire extinguisher clipped to the wall, red lights over every door which presumably would flash in emergencies, even an in-house telephone at face level near the elevators. But nothing was marked.
The Dragon abruptly spun and flashed back to the hallway he had emerged from, swinging around out of sight. He had heard the hum of one of the elevators descending. As he cautiously watched around the corner, one elevator dinged open and an impressive specimen stepped out. The man was well over six feet tall, slim and fit. He was wearing a one-piece jumpsuit and boots of the same Kelly Green as the guard's uniform, with deep breast pockets and a belt with several pouches. The man had a strong face with a square jaw and deepset dark eyes, his thick mop of hair was jet black and he held himself with a kingly air. Yet, his most striking feature was his ashen grey skin. He had the colorless skin of a corpse.
At soon as he saw the unconscious guard, the big man reacted unexpectedly by charging directly at the corner where Chen was concealed. The Dragon had already tugged an anesthetic dart from his sleeve and he flung it fast and hard. The man slapped it aside as if brushing away a fly, and Chen gawked in disbelief. He would have sworn no normal Human could have done that. A second later, the man in green was upon him with outstretched hands. Chen dropped into a low stance and blasted a dozen alternating left-right body blows that would killed most men, then finished with a hooking right punch. The punches had no effect at all. To his complete shock, the man caught that punch in his open hand and stopped it cold. A simple straight jab from his other hand cracked Chen hard in the face and made his knees sag.
Realizing he was up against someone stronger and faster than normal, the Dragon of Midnight spun so his back was to the man, raised the hand that his opponent was gripping as high as he could, and threw the grey-skinned man over his shoulder in a complete flip that crashed him hard to the floor. Although he released Chen's hand, the man was not harmed by the impact and immediately leaped to his feet again, just in time to catch a high side kick directly to the face. Chen had thrown that kick full power, it was meant to be a killing blow, and he was distressed to see his enemy merely get knocked down and immediately rise unharmed.
The grey-skinned man shouted in a cultured baritone, "This is Rigel One. Intruder in Project Regulus. All Rigelites to the lobby at once." His voice echoed strangely as if being picked up on some intercom system. Chen had reached a decision. He felt he could hold his own against this man, Rigel One if that was his name, and soon be able to get a dart or two to incapacitate him. But if others like him were on the way, Chen would likely be captured and he did not want that at this point.
As Rigel One rushed at him, Chen sidestepped and cracked him viciously in the back of the head with an elbow. Then the Dragon of Midnight raced down the corridor and ran full tilt at a wall. Instead of striking it, though, he passed through it in a barely visible shimmer of blue light. Holding his breath, his vision uncertain, he moved through the wall and emerged out into a freezing Montana night. Stars flared brilliantly overhead. The only man-made illumination should have been a pair of lightpoles looking down on an empty parking lot, but they were dark as well. Still moving, Chen raced out into the night. Half a mile on, his car sat where he had left it behind a lone scraggly tree. The Dragon beeped it open with his keys and slid in behind the wheel. As he started up the new MG convertible, he glanced over at the strange complex he had infiltrated.
The lone three-story building with its separate annex was dark. Not a window was lit. If not for the fact he knew there were at least two people in there, the place would seem deserted. Chen put the red MG in drive and swung the car around just as he saw to his horror that Rigel One was hurtling toward him. The big man in the green jumpsuit was running faster than a man should be able to, covering the ground in a blur. Chen Wong-Zhen slammed his foot on the accelerator and the sports car almost left the group as it roared onto the access road. In the rearview mirror, he saw with relief that the big man was being left behind. When he hit the main highway, Chen finally sighed in relief. For a minute there, he had been worried that that strange man would have overtaken his car on foot.
II.
Fifteen miles away, Chen turned off the highway and drove across the hard-packed frozen dirt. After another mile or two, he cleared a rise and pulled up before a black stealth helicopter that stood alone on the high plains. As the Dragon of Midnight got out of his car, two men in black field suits with visored helmets stepped around from the other side of the copter to greet him.
"Good to see you made it back, Chen. What's the report?" Bane asked.
Chen recounted what had happened. "It's all very strange," he said. "I never saw any research facility with absolutely nothing in writing. No signs anywhere, no charts or schedules on the walls. None of the doors were marked. The guard's uniform was generic. Just strange."
Larry Taper had raised the visor of his helmet to reveal a wry expression. Normally, he did not wear a field suit because he summoned the Silver Skull armor when trouble started, but it was freezing out here on the plains in late November and the insulated field suit kept him comfortable. "Indubitably. Yet the real pachyderm on the playground has to be your verdant playmate. His ashen countenance is intriguing. Rigel and Regulus are obviously both stars, by that I denote celestial bodies and not thespians. What significance does that bestow on both that individual and the facility?"
"And I thought I spoke English well!" Chen snorted. "Rigel One is a handful to tangle with, I'll say that much. He's strong and fast, at Kumundu Master level or maybe a bit more. He didn't seem to have any combat training, but maybe he thinks he doesn't need any."
Jeremy Bane was gazing off into the darkness where the facility would be. "All I know about Project Regulus is the name," he said. "One of my observors caught a reference to it in an FBI memo that wasn't supposed to leave the office. Apparently, Department 21 Black hasn't got enough information to proceed on it yet."
"You have friends in the damndest places," Chen told his captain.
"It took twenty years to build my network," said Bane. The Dire Wolf still watched the night as if expecting an attack, then he turned to Chen and Taper. "We have no evidence that anything illegal is going on in there. As far as we know, it's a building out miles from nowhere, and since it's unlit and Chen only saw two people in there, maybe it's closed down. It could be some government project that lost its funding."
Taper made a scoffing noise. "The disbelief in your vocalization is blatant, Jeremy. You are already determined to investigate this Project Regulus."
The Dire Wolf nodded slowly. "You know me pretty well, Larry. Yeah. All my instincts say to look into this place. If nothing else, I want a look at this Rigel One character. Okay. My plan is to disable their electricity and go in and see what we find. You guys with me?"
"You bet," the Dragon of Midnight answered. The faint British accent from his schooling in Hong Kong was more prominent as he grew excited. "We're certainly not going to just walk away and forget about this place."
"Seconded," Taper said. "Like our captain here, I just have a premonition this facility indulges in nefarious skullduggery. Also, I'm bored."
"All right then. It won't be the first time we've stuck our noses in where we weren't invited." Bane slid open a cargo panel in the side of the CORBY and removed an electronic instrument that was the size of a Walkman. "I've got the Trom jammer. We'll leave the CORBY here out of sight and ride over there in Chen's sports car. Of course, once I activate the jammer, your MG won't work either, Chen."
"As long as it doesn't do any permanent damage, I'm okay with that."
"Let's go then." Bane swung open the front passenger seat and climbed in, while Chen Wong-Lai got behind the wheel and Dr Lawrence Taper seated himself in the back. With the headlights off, Chen drove back across the frozen dirt toward the mysterious facility.
III.
Leaving Chen's car on the farthest end of the parking lot, they got out and watched as Bane pressed two buttons on the Trom jammer. For the next thirty minutes, no electrical circuit would function within a three mile radius of the device. This included the light enhancers in their own helmets, so both Bane and Taper left their visors up. They raced past the main entrance with its smoked glass doors and around to the side. Finding a plain metal door set in a bare wall, the three of them came to a halt.
"This is where my talent comes in useful," said Chen. He took a deep breath and walked into the concrete wall, passing through it effortlessly. A second later, the metal door opened from within and he gestured for his teammates to enter.
"Misplacing your keys never poses a predicament for you," Taper told the Dragon, who chuckled. All three of them were dressed in black, difficult to spot in poor lighting and now impossible to see in any case, given the darkness inside the building. With the power out and no windows to the outside, the corridors were completely black. Bane led the way, one hand on the wall to his right. All three listened intently, but it was Chen who first halted his partners with a hand on their shoulders.
In a whisper barely audible next to them, the Dragon of Midnight said, "Voices. Twenty yards ahead, behind a closed door." They crept furtively forward and soon could spot a dim flicker of light along the floor which showed the bottom edge of a door. The three KDF members pressed up against the surface, slowing their own breathing to enhance their hearing and were completely surprised to hear a thin, reedy voice say, "Do come in, gentlemen."
The Dire Wolf did not hesitate. He pressed down on the handle and swung the door open. They entered a conference room with a large round table surrounded by swivel chairs. Several phones sat on that table, and a coffeemaker with the usual paraphenalia of cups, swizzle sticks and sugar packets occupied a counter against one wall. The room was lit with the uncertain flicker of two candles that had been set up on dishes.
Sitting at that table were three strange identical men. All had on the same Kelly green jumpsuits with high collars, breast pockets and boots that Rigel One had been seen wearing. The men were small and frail, not much over five feet tall, with narrow shoulders and delicate bone structure. Their most startling feature was the size of their heads. Above wizened elderly faces, the foreheads rose twice as high as normal, with only a fringe of feathery white hair around the ears and nape.
Even in the flickering candlelight, their skin was the same lifeless grey that Rigel One had shown. The elderly man in the center of the three rose slightly and bowed his enormous head. "Welcome to Project Regulus. Please be seated."
Entering the room, Bane instantly appraised it for traps or hidden doors through which attackers might emerge or for any sign of weapons near the old men. He grudgingly decided the risks of the situation were acceptable. "I assume you're going to explain what is going on?"
The grey-skinned old man smiled. "If you are willing to listen, Mr Bane. Oh yes, we know you. Jeremy Bane, the notorious Dire Wolf. Our Master has briefed us on you and your colleagues. Dr Lawrence Taper, the Silver Skull. Chen Wong-Zhen, the Dragon of Midnight. Such colorful title you lads bear. I am Sirius One, and these are my fellow Sirians. What is it you wish to know?"
"That query unleashes the veritable deluge," muttered Taper. He was examining the nearest of the Sirians. "Not hydrocephalism, rather accelerated cranial growth after adulthood. Identical in three unrelated specimens indicates some deliberate program to enhance brain capacity."
"You are quite right," Sirius One told him calmly. "We are genetically identical. I was first, so I have some slight cellular integrity that my brethren lack. It is best explain as being similar to making a copy of a photograph and losing some detail."
Bane and Chen exchanged worried glances. The Dire Wolf asked, "So you yourself are not the original, then? You're a sort of, I don't know, modified clone of a person?"
"Bravo," smiled the grey-skinned old man. "Really, you are catching on more quickly than I had hoped."
"And just where is the original?"
"He gave all he had to start the process," Sirius One said. "A noble sacrifice."
"I don't like the sound of that," muttered Chen.
"Heads up," Bane snapped, spinning around just as the first of a dozen big men in the green jumpsuits rushed in through the open door. He dropped into a crouch and smashed a vicious left hook that should have broken the attacker's jaw but which did not apparent harm. The Rigelite's head twitched slightly and he seized Bane by the arm, pulling him into a simple straight jab that connected perfectly. The Dire Wolf was taken offguard by that since he had expected the opponent to drop after the first blow, and he was dazed by the punch. More of the Rigelites poured in, crowding the small room. Taper and Chen were taken by overwhelming force, being struck from every side at once by opponents stronger and faster than Human. The KDF members got in a few blows, and the Dragon almost wiggled free but in a few seconds, they were beaten unconscious. Taper did not even have a chance to summon the armor and weapons of the Silver Skull. Bane managed to kill one of the Rigelites with a hand-edge to the neck, but a second later he was pinned. With a strongman holding each arm and leg out straight, even the Dire Wolf could not defend himself against more of the Rigelites pounding at him. He took a lot of punishment but eventually he was beaten unconscious.
As the big men in green picked up the battered forms of the three KDF members, their leader turned to the old men at the table. "The situation is under control, Sirius One."
"As was intended, Rigel One. Secure them. The Master is on his way. You have carried out your function satisfactorily." The withered old man raised a hand in salute. "Now Project Regulus can begin its second phase."
With just the faintest tinge of pride, Rigel One answered, "How could it have gone otherwise? It is what we were bred to do."
III.
Twenty minutes passed before Bane snapped back to full awareness. One eye was swollen shut and the front of his face felt congested with dry blood. Everything hurt. He had not taken a thrashing like that in some time. He tried to sit up and couldn't. After a second, the Dire Wolf got a grasp of the situation. He was tied down to some sort of sturdy examination table. Raising his head, Bane saw he was wearing only the one-piece Trom armor which covered him except for head, hands and feet. This had happened before. Enemies might remove the field suit jacket, shirt and slacks and boots, even the helmet. But the armor was sealed in a way that Human knowledge could not understand yet.
His head throbbed but that would pass soon. The Tagra diet he had been on at Tel Shai for more than a decade had enhanced his healing abilities beyond what medical science could explain. Already his bruised eye was opening and the swelling in his face was easing. He would not suffer permanent damage from the beating, there would be no blood clots or concussion. It still hurt, though, he reflected sourly. Bane raised his head and looked around.
Larry Taper and Chen Wong-Zhen were fastened down to identical tables on either side of him. They had also been stripped down, Taper to the flexible armor and Chen to just a pair of white boxers. Both of them were groaning and starting to stir. It would only be a moment until they were conscious as well.
They were in a brightly lit operating theatre. This meant the jammer out in Chen's car had shut itself off after the timer hit thirty minutes. Bane recognized some of the medical equipment surrounding them but not all. Some of the electronic consoles looked pretty advanced. Strangest of all was what resembled an old-fashioned bathtub up on a wheeled platform, made of a gleaming copper-colored metal with a hot sheen. Bane's heart sank as he recognized that metal and he realized the enemy they would be facing. It seemed they would never be rid of him.
The door clicked as it unlocked and swung inward. One of the tall men in the green jumpsuits entered and caught Bane's eye. The Dire Wolf said casually, "Rigel One, I guess? How can we tell you guys apart if you don't wear numbers?"
"It is enough that we can tell," answered the grey-skinned man. He watched Bane thoughtfully. "You three showed unexpected capabilities while being captured. You yourself ended a Rigelite's life. You are not normal Humans."
"Coming from you, that's funny! Tell me, do they grow you Rigelites in test tubes or what?" Bane was testing the restraints on his arms and legs but found nothing encouraging in the way they held him. At the moment, he had no plan for getting free by himself. And yet... if he could tip the bed over and get hold of that railing along the wall...
"I am not here to answer your questions," the strange man answered without emotion. Despite the way he had captured the intruders, his attitude toward them seemed to be just mild curiosity. "Here is where Deneb One will take over." He stepped aside to allow a woman to enter the room, just as Taper and Chen came back to full awareness with some grumbling and cursing.
Deneb One was slightly above average height, slim rather than voluptuous in one of the Kelly green jumpsuits which had been tailored more carefully than the ones worn by the men. She had glossy straight black hair which reached down past her shoulder blades and bright blue eyes which stood out dramatically in the grey face. Despite the colorless skin, she was gorgeous and had obvious been chosen for that factor. A slight smile barely turned up the corners of her full lips as she met Bane's hostile gaze.
"Good evening," she said. "I am Deneb One, and you men have been captured breaking into a restricted area."
"Nothing is posted," Bane growled. "There are no signs saying this is private property, no warnings against trespassing."
"Project Regulus is above Top Secret," she continued as if she hadn't heard him. "Who knows you have come here?"
"Everyone!" Bane snapped. "My lawyer, my staff. The NYPD. Department 21 Black of the FBI."
"Forgive my disbelief," Deneb One said. "I have done some research on you and your Kenneth Dred Foundation. You act without legal justification as mere vigilantes. I have to warn you, you are in an unsafe situation right now." She turned to face the other two. "Dr Lawrence Taper, Chen Wong-Zhen. This applies to you as well. You would be wise to cooperate and volunteer whatever information Project Regulus asks of you, for your own safety."
"What ARE you people?" Chen demanded. "Aliens? Zombies? Clones? What's the story?"
"You may receive answers in due time," Deneb One told the Chinese man. "But for now you will be answering questions rather than asking them. I think we might as well start with you." She knelt and unlatched the examination table which Chen was lying upon, turned it and started to push it toward the door. As she paused in the hallway beyond, she turned back toward Bane and Taper with the same confident smile. "This will not take long." And she closed the door on them.
"She brightens a room by leaving it," Taper observed. "Are you rejuvenated to your usual superlative level of competence, captain?"
"Yeah, I'm ready for action," Bane said. "Time for you to bust us loose."
The air shimmered around Taper and instantly he was wearing the black leather tunic and leggings and high boots of the Silver Skull, with the breastplate and greaves under it. On his head had appeared the macabre helmet which gave his role its name; sheathed at his belt was the sword Chalcemar and on his left forearm was a circular shield two feet across. All this gear had been ensorcelled by the Eldarin themselves to appear on him whenever he summoned it, and now it neatly snapped the restraints apart that had been holding him down.
"That's a neat trick," Bane admitted. Taper drew the sword and cut through the tough leather straps on the table. The Dire Wolf leaped to his feet, wearing only the flexible Trom armor, barefoot and bareheaded. "Thanks, Larry. See anything in here that could make a weapon?"
"Hmmm. Prospects seem decidely sparse." The dramatic figure in black and silver began digging through cabinets. "Mostly diagnostic supplies. You can't duel with an oral thermometer."
"No, but these will be useful." Bane slammed a drawer shut and stood up with a large scalpel in each hand, twirling them and testing their balance. "Okay, let's interrupt whatever they have in mind for Chen."
Opening the door, Bane peered cautiously out but spotted no one. With the Silver Skull beside him, he began moving down the unmarked corridor and listening at each doorway. As they neared a bend in the hall, one of the Rigelites swung into view. The Dire Wolf leaped forward, spinning sideways to drive a stiff leg directly into the center of the grey-skinned man's chest, pinning him hard against the wall. Bones cracked audibly. The Rigelite sagged and fell to the floor as Bane withdrew his leg and glared down at him.
"Ouch," said Taper mildly.
"I was pulling my blows before," Bane said. "Now that I know these goons are tougher than normal, I'm not playing any longer with them." He slammed the palm of his hand just above the doorknob behind him, snapping the lock cleanly, and hauled the limp figure into that room. For a second, he glanced around but there was only a meeting table, chairs, a bank of phones and some video equipment. Nothing was labelled. No papers were in sight. The walls were bare.
"This place is weird," Bane muttered as he left the injured Rigelite in a corner. "How do they get by without records? It doesn't make sense."
"A profound perplexity," answered the Silver Skull. He had sheathed his sword and was poking around for clues. "Some enlightenment would be gratifying."
Bane yanked the Rigelite's jumpsuit off without much gentleness and got into it. It was too large, but he tightened the belt around his gaunt waist and pulled back the sleeves. The boots were an adequate fit. The deep pockets only held four keys on a ring and a laminated card with a bar code on it. The Dire Wolf said, "Let's see how Chen is doing," and headed out into the hall again.
Within a few minutes, they heard a voice through one of the doors with frosted glass panes. It sounded like Deneb One, speaking at normal conversational level. Bane found the door wasn't locked and walked through into a brightly lit chamber filled with five identical women in the green jumpsuits. They were standing around the table where Chen was tied down, facing away from the door.
Deneb One held up the Dragon Pendant on its fine-link chain and held it where Chen could see it dangle. "Why does this trinket fog film? Why does it blur videotape? Tell us and we can move on toward your release."
"It's magick," laughed Chen Wong-Zhen. "That pendant was crafted by the immortal Eldarin on Elvedal itself, thirty thousand years ago. Happy now?"
Even with the dead grey skin, Deneb One was beautiful and she was trying to use that on the Dragon of Midnight. She leaned close to him, pressing one soft breast against his arm and breathing in his face. "No, tell me the truth about this pendant."
"I'll take that," interrupted Bane, yanking the sigil from her grip and shoving her roughly aside to collide with two other identical Denebians. As they struggled not to fall, Deneb One yelled, "Call the Rigelites!" The Dire Wolf placed the Dragon Pendant around Chen's neck and stepped back. Holding his breath, Chen sat up and hopped off the table as he passed through the restraint straps as if they were smoke.
Taper was blocking the doorway, preventing the Denebians from leaving the room. He had one gloved hand on the wall phone, so that they could not call for help either. "Curb your enthusiasm," he said in a voice made hollow by the skull-shaped helmet.
"Thanks, captain," said the Dragon. "What's the situation?"
"Still trying to make sense of this place," Bane said. He gripped Deneb One by the shoulder and spun her to face him, and his voice was cold. "Time for answers. Who are you people? What are you?"
"We are Denebians, members of the Deneb class. Records-keepers and archivists," she answered. "When the Rigelites get here, you will be sorry you laid hands upon us."
"We'll see," Bane told her. "Why do you all look alike?"
She seemed confused. "Why, we grow from the same source. Of course we look alike."
"So, you ARE some kind of clones. You're grown here at this facility to serve as its labor force. What role do the Rigelites serve?"
"Security. The Sirians are researchers. The Arcturans are laborers." She abruptly ducked down and tried to lunge past Bane, but he caught her with an iron grasp on her shoulder that made her wince. "You are hurting me!"
"Just a few more answers," the Dire Wolf said as everyone in that room watched. "I think I already know, but who is behind all this? Who is the mastermind behind Project Regulus?"
Before she could answer, the entire room turned solid white, unbearably bright and hot as a wave of force swept them all off their feet and flung them to the floor. For a moment, they were all dazed and bewildered, unable to see as their vision was filled with swirling spots. Then Bane slowly got to his feet with dogged perseverance, swaying but determined.
Filling the doorway was a bulky man seven inches over six feet in height, wearing a well-cut dark blue pinstripe suit. His bullet-shaped head was clean-shaven and his pale hazel eyes glowered under a heavy brow ledge. One meaty hand lowered with a crackle of primal atomic fire still playing about it.
Karl Eldritch said, "I have all the answers you seek, my old friend."
IV.
As everyone struggled to recover from that blast, the giant warlock stepped into the room and started helping the Denebians up. "All of you, leave us. Report to the Sirians for now. I want to speak with these men." As the women groggily made their way out the door, Eldritch turned to the three KDF members. "For once, let us speak in a civilized manner, eh?"
"All right. A truce, for now." Bane answered grudgingly. He pulled out a chair and settled himself, and his teammates followed his example with some bewilderment. "We've fought a dozen times and where does it get either of us?"
"Finally, the light dawns." Eldritch seated himself on the opposite side of the table. Even seated, he loomed up over his enemies. "I cannot say I am too surprised to find you here, Bane. You seem to sniff me out wherever I am working... perhaps the Dire Wolf name is no coincidence."
"I've lost track of how many times we thought you were dead. What was it last time? Dragged by a giant squid to the bottom of the ocean? Frozen solid? Having a hole blown open through your chest? It doesn't matter. Sooner or later, you recover and just start up again." Bane placed his palms on the table and leaned forward. There was no anger in his voice, only a sort of resignation. "I think you were right when you said you're now immortal."
"So it would seem," Eldritch answered. "The greatest secret of the ancients! My body converts energy into matter and matter into energy as needed. I no longer need to breathe or eat or sleep. No matter what, my work goes on."
"Well, I have not crossed paths with you before," said Chen. He was studying the giant warlock warily. "All I know is that you collect artifacts from ancient civilization."
"Zhune! Yes indeed. The ancient wisdom of Zhune, where the first scientists produced by the human race created wonders. They unlocked the basic secrets of the universe, and only I can read their inscriptions." Eldritch seemed excited at the topic. "I can convert the tiniest particle of my body into energy and unleash primal atomic fire... as you saw. The relics of Zhune are advanced beyond what modern technology can match."
"We've seen that," Bane admitted. "So let me guess. This facility. This Project Regulus, it's your latest attempt at recreating Zhune science?"
"Exactly. I have recreated what Zhunites called 'the cauldron of life.' It is a means to spawn copies of a life form, but refined and modified. These are the staff at Project Regulus. The Rigelites, the Sirians, the Denebians. I am breeding the perfect work force, devoted and loyal as normal Humans can never be."
"Clones," Bane said. "The ancients discovered cloning?"
"In a way," Eldritch replied slowly. "But not quite. The essence of the donor is injected into a seed cell, which grows rapidly in the cauldron. In a few months, the specimen is full grown, emerging with most of the memories of the donor but more compliant."
The Dire Wolf's eyes were getting angry, despite his efforts to remain civil. "Let me guess. You intend to breed a perfect army. Obedient soldiers ready to fight for whatever country you sell them to!"
"No, no, not at all. You misunderstand. The chemicals required are much too expensive. An army of these specimens would never be practical, each one costs as much as a jet fighter to produce. I am creating my staff solely for research." Eldritch raised a thick forefinger in an admonishing gesture. "Have any of my people left this facility? No. Have I broken any laws? Have I posed any threat to anyone? No. We are minding our own business here. Perhaps you should do the same, Mr Bane."
"You're suggesting we should just walk away?"
"Why not? You are so used to confrontation when it is not necessary. I assure you I am doing no harm here. My researchers and laborers and archivists are busily working on exploring the secrets of ancient Zhune for me. Soon I will be ready to publish. I expect a Nobel Prize for my work, to be honest."
Bane turned to his partners. "Chen. Larry." He stood up and they did the same. Taper had slid the circular shield off his arm as he was seated and now he strapped it back on. The Dire Wolf tugged at the green jumpsuit he was wearing and said, "Naturally, we will expect our gear to be returned."
"That will not present a problem." Eldritch gestured at the open doorway and a Denebian woman stuck her head in. "Deneb Nine, fetch the clothing of our visitors, will you?"
In a minute, a short stocky man in one of the bright green jumpsuits appeared, hauling two duffel bags. He was not like the others they had seen, but a muscular brute with a simple-minded expression on his coarse features. He had only a small tuft of brown hair on a cranium that seemed almost pointed. The man dropped the full duffel bags in front of Eldritch and stood there placidly waiting for instructions.
"This is an Arcturan," the warlock explained proudly. "They love labor. Carrying heavy loads, digging and building, these are their greatest joys. Isn't that right, Arcturus Three?"
"Yes, master," answered the beefy man in a monotone.
"Place those bags outside by the helicopter out on the plains," Eldritch dismissed him. "Then return here." As the worker obeyed, the warlock turned back to his enemies. "A sensible precaution, I think you will agree. Oh, I know your stealth copter is out there. Now, I need you to swear that you will leave me in peace."
Bane paused a long moment before answering. "I'll go this far. If we don't hear anything about you posing a public menace- if these Rigelites and whatever don't hurt anyone or go on a crime spree- I promise the KDF will not come back here. Sound fair?"
"I find that acceptable," Eldritch said. "In time, I predict you will be glad you made this decision. The cure for many diseases will come from my research here. You will have done mankind a favor."
The Dire Wolf paused by the door. "We'll see." With that, he led Chen and Taper out into the corridor toward the exit. Eldritch stood with folded arms until he was sure the intruders were well away from the facility.
"Neither of us believe in this true," the warlock rumbled to himself, "It only buys time."
Rigel One appeared in the doorway and said, "Master, the seeds are established. Do you wish to see them?"
"Of course." The giant warlock followed the grey-skinned man down a corridor that branched and took the left turn. Another Rigelite stood before an unmarked door. As they approached, the guard stepped aside and the door opened on its own at the proximity of Karl Eldritch.
They entered a chamber dimly lit with a lurid deep red illumination. Two of the Sirian researchers stood before a complicated appartus of intertwined tubes and vats of smoking fluid. The Sirians turned their oversized heads to stare up at the giant sorcerer. "Everything seems nominal, master," said Sirius One.
"Good. I am pleased." Eldritch examined a rack which held three transparent vats the size of gallon jugs, fed by tubes of bubbling liquids and warmed by red heating elements. In each one, something humanoid the size of a tadpole floated and twitched feebly.
The warlock peered at the tiny organisms. "The other two intruders were of no interest to us. Their abilities derive from the talismans they carry. But our main opponent, he is different. His abilities are innate. Nearly three times as fast as a normal Human, that's the Dire Wolf." Eldritch tapped one of the vats thoughtfully. "And now there will be three who will surpass him. A wolf pack." Suddenly, laughter he could no longer keep pent inside burst out of Eldritch. "A Dire Wolf pack!"
12/2/2014