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dochermes"The Sheridan-McDonnel Pan-Dimensional Viewport"
10/7/2005
I.
It was just getting dark when Jeremy Bane pulled into Fawcett, New Jersey. He found the street address he was looking for and eased up to the curb a block away to study the scene. There were some pretty large houses in this neighborhood, built in the days a century ago of extended families and servants but now divided up into apartments. Despite his most suspicious gaze, he saw nothing out of place. A cold rain the night before had left the sidewalks littered with yellow leaves. Getting out of his dark green Mustang, Bane turned and walked off in the opposite direction to circle the block.
Now nearing fifty, the Dire Wolf did not look much different than he had at twenty. There were only a few grey hairs here and there. He still was a tall, gaunt man with pale grey eyes in a narrow feral face, he still dressed all in black - slacks, sport jacket, turtleneck. Bane walked completely around the block, searching for any signs of ambush but still spotting none. Grudgingly satisfied, he stepped up to the address he had been given. The wide handsome porch had been divided by a partition so the two apartments had separate entrances with a litte privacy. The mailbox on the left hand side read FLETCHER- MCDONNEL and Bane pressed the doorbell. Immediately, as if she had been standing there waiting, a pretty little woman with dark skin and thick wavy black hair swung the door open.
"You're not the pizza," she said in a accusatory tone.
"No," Bane replied. "Garrison Nebel sent me here."
At that name, two men jumped off the couch and rushed over. Both were about thirty. The tall thin one had staring blue eyes and was wearing a long-sleeved green shirt under a yellow T-shirt with some esoteric math equation on it. The other one was much shorter, no more than five feet six, bundled in an oversized hoodie. His glasses had noticeably thick lenses.
"You know Garrison Nebel?" the shorter man asked.
'I've worked with him for many years," Bane said. "He called and warned me about something you boys were working on-"
"His early books were relatively impressive," interrupted the tall thin one, standing with folded arms. "Well researched. But that was before he sold out and started writing all that New Age crapathon drivel. Tel Shai and gralic energy and all that."
This irritated Bane. Nebel was one of his oldest friends, one of the mere handful of Tel Shai knights who had survived the hellish Final Halloween in Necropolis. For a second, there was a cold glint in his grey eyes but he held his tongue. THe shorter man saw that menacing gleam, though, and quickly stepped in.
"You'll have to excuse Fletcher," he said quickly. "He uses Aspberger's as an excuse for rudeness. My name's McDonnel, Dr Vincent McDonnel. My colleague and roommate is Dr Sheridan Fletcher and our friend here is Neda Bityakul, she's a grad student helping us with our research. And you would be?"
'Jeremy Bane. I was upstate when Nebel advised me to come here and check out the situation."
"And just HOW would Garrison Nebel know anything about our private work?" scoffed Fletcher. "No wait, let me guess. He put on the famous Eyeless Helmet and became one with the universe and spotted us," he said with a giggle.
"Something like that." Bane turned toward the center of the apartment, where the furniture had been pushed back. An elaborate framework like an open doorway had been constructed, three iron bars covered with electronic parts and wired to various bits of machinery scattered around the apartment. "This must be what he was worried about?"
"Our pan-dimensional viewport? I hardly think so," sneered Fletcher. "We haven't published anything about it yet, or even discussed it with the academic community. I can safely assume you don't have a doctorate in physics, Mr Bane?"
The Dire Wolf gave one of his barely noticeable smiles. He was finding it easier to deal with this character. "Let me guess. You intend to open doorways into other dimensions, similar to but not exactly like our own, right?"
"Oh, very good." Fletcher seemed genuinely pleased. "It's more of a window than a door, of course."
"And do you think there is any chance of something from one of those dimensions entering ours?" Bane asked.
"Well, I HARDLY think so," Fletcher began but was cut off by McDonnel, who said, "We wish we had gotten that far. No, I'm afraid glimpses in other realties is the best we can hope for tonight. For whatever reason, you have shown up just in time for our first try."
"Even though tonight is ALWAYS our online Sudoku races," Fletcher grumbled. "But I will make an exception this one time."
Neda Bityakul had been listening intently and now she spoke for the first time. "Mr Bane, you look as if you are holding back when you have a lot to say. Am I right?"
The Dire Wolf took a breath. "You guys have to understand that I am from the streets. I don't know scientific theory, I don't know physics. But I can tell you there are thirty-odd pocket dimensions with easy access from this world. They are called the adjacent realms."
"And you know this how, exactly?" sneered Fletcher.
"I've been to most of them."
Fletcher opened his mouth but froze as he caught the expression in Bane's cold grey eyes. He suddenly felt he himself was in immediate physical danger. On some subconscious level, the pampered genius realized he was standing within arm's length of a genuine killer. Jeremy Bane had spent his life in perilous situations and had slain hundreds of dangerous opponents. It showed in his quiet confidence and even Fletcher caught a frightening glimpse of what the Dire Wolf really was.
"It doesn't matter if you guys believe me or not," Bane went on. "For all I know, your pan-dimensional portal might just show glimpses of weird psychedelic junk with no connection to our world. Fine with me. I'll leave you to your work. But if you are opening doors to the adjacent realms of the Midnight War.. Maroch or Perjena or Chyl, for example, and this draws their attention, then the three of you are putting yourselves in real danger."
McDonnel was staring at the terrified expression on Fletcher's face. The tall thin physicist had taken a few steps back away from Bane. "Wow. I never saw Fletcher well behaved for more than a few seconds. So, Mr Bane, do I understand that you are here to help protect us somehow if some other-dimensional nasty Thing tries to get at us?"
The Dire Wolf pointed at a wall calendar tacked over the sink at the other end of the apartment. "Pick a date."
"What? Oh. October 14th, that's-"
He stopped in mid-word at the sound of a crisp thwack from the calendar. A black-hilted throwing dagger was protruding from the calendar, Silently, Dr McDonnel crossed over and peered at it. "October 14th," he confirmed.
"I didn't see his arm move!" Fletcher said in a shaky voice. "I was looking right at him. I saw his left arm lower after the throw, but could not follow the throw itself. How is that possible?"
Bane retrieved his dagger and slid it back into its sheath under the sleeve of his jacket. "You fellows are experts in your trade," he said mildly. "I'm expert in mine."
II.
After that, Fletcher's attitude changed drastically. He watched Bane with the same wary fascination he would toward a tiger that had wandered into the apartment. Bane didn't seem to notice, he was studying the metal framework as Dr McDonnel explained its workings.
"I'll try to explain this in layman's terms," McDonnel said. He had an offsetting habit of tilting his head back and peering through the bottom of his thick-lensed glasses as he spoke, but Bane decided this was just an effect of being so short. "This is the Fletcher-McDonnel Pan-Dimensional Viewport. I came up with the basic theory but it was Fletcher who implemented the construction. Neda and I only helped as he built the device-"
"You could have done MUCH more if you had not been so preoccupied with going into Vincent's room for copulation," sniffed Fletcher.
"Don't knock it if you've never tried it," Neda put in cheerfully.
Fletcher sniffed and looked the other way as McDonnel continued, "Um, I really don't know how to explain this, Mr Bane, in terms you'd understand. Most physicists in fact have difficult grasping the concepts. To be honest, Fletcher and I sometimes find ourselves on shaky ground with this project. Basically, this device gathers iformation from hypothetical existence states... other dimensions.. and translates them here into images our brains can comprehend. The images will come at random. It's like a telescope into other realities."
"Fair enough," Bane said. "I have two concerns. You said you don't think anything can emerge from these images into our world?"
"I don't see how that would be possible even in theory, no."
"How about someone on the other side seeing us looking at them?" the Dire Wolf asked.
Now Neda Bityakul spoke up. She had put a white lab smock on over her T-shirt and jeans for no obvious reason, perhaps just because it put her in a professional state of mind. "I have been wondering about that myself. I have a theory there will be a mirror effect, and our images will be sent back to the dimensions we observe. If we see beings who react to our movements, that would be confirmation."
"Like most of your theories, the odds are better that you will sprout fingers from your ears," Fletcher put in unhelpfully.
"You'll find my fingers in your eyes," she said. "EXplain to me again why we put up with him?"
"Fletcher IS a certified genius in theoretical physics," McDonnel said. "His lack of social graces is something we just have to let ride."
"You have done some passable work in bringing my brilliant ideas into mundane reality," Fletcher admitted. He had gone to a closet and also shrugged into a long white lab coat, but his had a name tag.
As McDonnel and Neda started plugging things in and and flipping rows of switches, Fletcher went to an old-fashioned blackboard that stood in one corner and studied the tiny equations and mathematical symbols which covered every inch of its surface. "I know there's a contradiction here, I can smell it. Vincent, are you sure you went over this mess closely?"
"It's from YOUR notes, Fletcher!" McDonnel said as he thumbed a red button and the metal frame began to hum. The lights in the apartment dimmed noticeably.
"I'd hate to have the electric bill you two are running up," Neda chuckled. "Everything seems nominal. Viewport should begin function in thirty seconds."
Everyone gathered on one side of the device, just as a vague mist began to swirl and thicken within the framework. The portal abruptly contained a bright image within its open area... it was just like looking outside through an open door. They saw brilliant summer sunshine on a level field of short grass sprinkled with white flowers, with blue mountains far in the distance.
"Congratulations," "congratulations," "congratulations," the three scientists said to each other, shaking hands in turn. Fletcher added, "That Nobel Prize money will be come in handy."
Bane was standing with fists on hips, watching the scenery. "Elvedal," he said finally.
"What's that?"
"This is Elvedal," said the Dire Wolf. "And sure enough, here comes an Eldar." As he spoke, a slim figure strolled into sight and stopped short as it seemed to catch sight of them. This was a young, rather androgynous man with long golden-blond hair and lightly tanned skin, wearing a sleeveless tunic and leggings of plain cotton cloth. The man peered curiously out at them. As he drew closer, they could see his ears rose to distinct points.
"He's beautiful," Neda said. "He reminds me of the surfer dudes in Malibu."
"He's probably thousands of years old. The Eldarin are close to immortal," Bane said.
The scene shifted to a dim chamber of stone blocks, lit by two torches in sconces high up on the walls. A huge open book stood upon a lectern and two robed figures bent over it. As the image sharpened, the two robed men seemed to become aware they were being observed. They swung around and stalked closer and as their faces were revealed, the three Human scientists gasped loudly. The robed men looked like living skulls, with a thin layer of yellowed skin stretched tautly over bone. There was no hair and no visible ears; the noses were just stubs and the dark eyes glowered under protruding brow ledges.
"Oh my God," breathed Neda, "how horrible."
Bane had stepped protectively in front of the three scientists. As the skull-faced men spotted him, the Dire Wolf raised one fist, back of the hand outwards in a threatening gesture, and the strange beings drew back and stepped out of sight. The image shimmered and started to transition.
"They- they seem to recognize you!" Fletcher said incredulously.
"I've had dealings with the Nekrosim." Bane growled. "They'd better remember me!"
Another scene materialized within the portal. It was a muddy field under a cloudy sky, with two huge men in heavy quilted padding whacking each other with thick bludgeons. One had the emblem of a rearing white horse painted on his tunic over the padding. The two men were going at it full blast, and the loud smacking of blows landing made the watching scientists wince in sympathy.
"This is Androval," Bane said quietly. "You guys are definitely tapping into the near adjacent realms. These are Melgarin, not a bad bunch."
"I was expecting something barely comprehensible," Dr McDonnel said. "Something truly alien. This is a little disappointing."
Bane shrugged. "The adjacent realms border our world so closely that psychics get glimpses of them. I imagine if your machine keeps searching, it will go further and further away. But these are all familiar realms so far."
Neda turned her attention to Bane. "How do you know of these dimensions, Mr Bane? You say you have been in these 'adjacent realms'... how?"
"Magick. Gralic force beyond Human understanding." Bane shrugged. "I don't expect you guys to believe it, I just know what I've seen."
Fletcher sniffed. "Perhaps a lost science of an early civilization? Zhune, I suppose?"
"If you say so," Bane answered. "I'm not much on theory."
III.
The image dissolved and began to reform. This time it resolved itself into a sort of den with walls lined with scrolls set in niches, dazzling sunlight slanting down from high narrow windows. Seated behind a table piled high with pieces of parchments was a tall thin figure in a green silk robe with bell sleeves. As they saw the man, he seemed instantly to be equally aware of them. His head snapped up and a bizarre visage glared at them. Skin and hair were whiter than any albino, white as chalk. In a long narrow face, bright green eyes fastened on them and the wide thin-lipped mouth leered the most wicked and unnerving smile any of them had ever seen.
"A Dartha!" hissed Bane. "You WOULD find Maroch, wouldn't you?" Stepping in front of the three scientists, he whipped the daggers from their sheaths beneath his sleeves and held them before him with their blades crossed. Suddenly the blades flared up with a cold white light. The Dartha hissed and drew back.
"Hah! You know silver daggers when you see them, right?" Bane snarled. He slid the knives across each other and the white-skinned man turned away as if in pain. The image in the portal trembled and dissolved into drifting mist.
The Dire Wolf lowered his daggers and let out a shaky breath. "Whew. You guys have no idea how much danger you were in just now. That was a Dartha! and he was perfectly capable of blasting all of us across whatever distance separate us."
"This is astonishing!" Fletcher yelled. "The biggest discovery of the century! I see so many fields which will benefit from our portal..."
With a wry smile, Dr McDonnel added, "If we can establish communication with the inhabitants of these dimensions, the possibilities are endless!"
Looking at the Dire Wolf quizzically, Neda asked, "What do YOU think, Mr Bane?"
"Me? I think you guys are tap dancing on a mine field. I guess science is always dangerous, though."
Fletcher giggled. "That albino looked like he wanted to do us grievous bodily harm, it's a good thing nothing can come through the viewport other than translated images."
Bane gave him a skeptical look. The image in the viewport was shimmering again, shifting, turning into a snow-covered rocky terrain. Under a leaden sky, flurries swirled and snow spun over jagged stone.
"Not sure about this one," Bane said. "Could be any number of realms. I don't see any distinctive life forms."
As they watched, McDonnel frowned. "It must be just my imagination... but is it getting COLD in here?"
"Really, Vincent," Fletcher scoffed. "You must control your undisciplined thought processes."
"LOOK!" yelled Neda, pointing at a few snowflakes drifting into the room and settling to the carpet.
"I don't believe it," McDonnel said. "I would have sworn this was impossible."
Fletcher almost hugged himself in glee. "This just goes to show I'm a greater genius than even I knew. I wonder who will play me in the biopic?"
But Bane's stern voice brought them to a sudden sobriety. "Do you have a cut-off switch? A plug we can pull?"
"We can power it down in a minute or so," Neda answered. "But surely that won't be necessary?"
All four watched in sudden silence as the image in the iron framework whirled and resolved itself to show a hillside somewhere under a cloudly sky. Grazing in a clearing was a white animal the size of a deer, with a tuft on its tail like a lion and fur over its hooves like boots. From its forehead protruded a straight horn three feet long that ended in a point.
"A... unicorn?" breathed Neda. "Oh my God, I never dreamed I would ever see a real unicorn."
"That's what it is," Bane said warily. "This is Okali. That's a unicorn. But stay alert. Wherever there are grazing animals, there must be predators."
All three of them turned to look at him with sudden alarm as his words sank in and, almost as if it were a cue, a deep bestial growl rumbled from the viewport. The unicorn bolted and raced away, but a huge dark form stalked forward, staring at the humans on the other side of the viewport. Three scientists froze in unreasoning terror, holding their breaths as their hearts raced. The rear half of the beast looked like an African lion with dark brown hide but its front half was that of a gorilla.
"Impossible!" said Fletcher Sheridan. "Evolution couldn't possibly..."
"Quiet," ordered Bane. He was holding the silver daggers in his hands, legs braced well apart. He had seen manticores before and knew they were not natural beasts but the product of Darthan experiments. Like many of the more bizarre creatures of the Midnight War, manticores had been created by Darthan tampering.
The weird beast came closer, its black eyes moving over each of them in turn. The manticore opened its mouth, showing yellow tusks and roared, and Fletcher screamed a high-pitched yelp. At that, the beast crouched like a cat, wriggled its hindquarters and leaped out of the viewport into the apartment. The next few minutes were a confused blur of vicious movement. Bane shoved Fletcher hard, sending him flying far to one side and got the manticore's attention. The creature reared up on its leonine hind legs, raising its apelike arms to grab. Moving as fast as he ever had, the Dire Wolf swung around behind the manticore and leaped up on its back, clasping his legs around its middle as hard as he possibly could and stabbing deeply with both daggers. The beast bellowed in pain and rage, flinging itself around the room. It rolled over and over, and tried to reach behind itself to grasp the creature on its back. But it had only a few seconds left in its life. Bane was plunging the silver blades in and out of the animal's chest and the great heart was punctured several times, a lung collapsed and the manticore suddenly convulsed and fell over on its side.
A sudden silence filled the room like the hush after thunder. The scientists had unthinkingly scrambled as far away as they could manage, McDonnel and Neda were hugging in terror. The framework of the viewport had been smashed, and electronic parts were scattered in all directions. From beneath the five hundred pound carcass that sprawled on the carpet, Bane's voice came. "Hey, how about a little help getting this thing off me?"
Neda and McDonnel hesitantly crept forward a few inches.
"It's okay, the manticore's dead!" Bane yelled. "Just give me a hand getting out from under it!"
Finally, the two scientists took hold of the beast's hind legs and managed to roll it over. Bane struggled to get up. Much of his black clothing was ripped half off, revealing what looked like flexible armor underneath, and he was covered with dark blood. The Dire Wolf staggered and stretched. "Damn, took a beating that time! If that had gone on another few minutes, he would have bitten my head off." He knelt and wiped his daggers on the animal's hide, then sheathed the weapons beneath his sleeves again. There was a stiffness in his movements.
"Are you okay?" Neda asked.
"JUst bruised, I think, I'll be all right." He went over and dropped down into an easy chair with a grunt. "This all seemed so much easier twenty years ago."
Neda was examining the manticore. "I don't understand how an animal like this could possibly exist. It's all one organism, it just can't be possible..."
Bane gestured for Neda and McDonnel to come closer. "Listen closely. I just saved your lives. You realize that?"
The couple glanced at each othen, then agreed. "We sure couldn't have defended ourselves against that monster," McDonel said in a shaky voice.
"Okay, so you two owe me this. That body has to disappear. It can't be dissected in a lab or put on display or anything. It has to vanish. I am going to call a section of the FBI called 21 Black. They have offices in Manhattan. In an hour, a half dozen men in black suits will come here and wrap this carcass in a tarp and haul it into a van, never to be seen again."
"But..what about us? Are we going to be arrested? These men in black, I've heard of them. They make people disappear too."
"No," Bane said. "You guys are under my protection. They won't bother you. In fact, after I call them, we are all going to get in my car and go to a diner for the next few hours until this is all over. 21 Black won't bother you, they just dispose of evidence of the Midnight War." He got to his feet and flexed his arms and legs experimentally. "Ouch. Still sore. Good thing I have a spare set of clothes in my car."
Neda and McDonnel whispered for a few minutes, then turned back to the Dire Wolf. "It's a great loss to science, but we agree. We'd be dead if not for you. That's a big debt. We'll go along with whatever you want."
"Good," Bane said. "It's for the best, believe me. I can't tell you not to continue your experiments but I might suggest you take a lot more precautions. Maybe put the viewport in a secure room and watch it on closed-circuit or something. Say, where's the other one? Fletcher?"
From the door to a bedroom, Fletcher Sheridan shamefacedly emerged. He was threading a belt through a different pair of pants. "I- ah, I had to change."
11/29/2013
10/7/2005
I.
It was just getting dark when Jeremy Bane pulled into Fawcett, New Jersey. He found the street address he was looking for and eased up to the curb a block away to study the scene. There were some pretty large houses in this neighborhood, built in the days a century ago of extended families and servants but now divided up into apartments. Despite his most suspicious gaze, he saw nothing out of place. A cold rain the night before had left the sidewalks littered with yellow leaves. Getting out of his dark green Mustang, Bane turned and walked off in the opposite direction to circle the block.
Now nearing fifty, the Dire Wolf did not look much different than he had at twenty. There were only a few grey hairs here and there. He still was a tall, gaunt man with pale grey eyes in a narrow feral face, he still dressed all in black - slacks, sport jacket, turtleneck. Bane walked completely around the block, searching for any signs of ambush but still spotting none. Grudgingly satisfied, he stepped up to the address he had been given. The wide handsome porch had been divided by a partition so the two apartments had separate entrances with a litte privacy. The mailbox on the left hand side read FLETCHER- MCDONNEL and Bane pressed the doorbell. Immediately, as if she had been standing there waiting, a pretty little woman with dark skin and thick wavy black hair swung the door open.
"You're not the pizza," she said in a accusatory tone.
"No," Bane replied. "Garrison Nebel sent me here."
At that name, two men jumped off the couch and rushed over. Both were about thirty. The tall thin one had staring blue eyes and was wearing a long-sleeved green shirt under a yellow T-shirt with some esoteric math equation on it. The other one was much shorter, no more than five feet six, bundled in an oversized hoodie. His glasses had noticeably thick lenses.
"You know Garrison Nebel?" the shorter man asked.
'I've worked with him for many years," Bane said. "He called and warned me about something you boys were working on-"
"His early books were relatively impressive," interrupted the tall thin one, standing with folded arms. "Well researched. But that was before he sold out and started writing all that New Age crapathon drivel. Tel Shai and gralic energy and all that."
This irritated Bane. Nebel was one of his oldest friends, one of the mere handful of Tel Shai knights who had survived the hellish Final Halloween in Necropolis. For a second, there was a cold glint in his grey eyes but he held his tongue. THe shorter man saw that menacing gleam, though, and quickly stepped in.
"You'll have to excuse Fletcher," he said quickly. "He uses Aspberger's as an excuse for rudeness. My name's McDonnel, Dr Vincent McDonnel. My colleague and roommate is Dr Sheridan Fletcher and our friend here is Neda Bityakul, she's a grad student helping us with our research. And you would be?"
'Jeremy Bane. I was upstate when Nebel advised me to come here and check out the situation."
"And just HOW would Garrison Nebel know anything about our private work?" scoffed Fletcher. "No wait, let me guess. He put on the famous Eyeless Helmet and became one with the universe and spotted us," he said with a giggle.
"Something like that." Bane turned toward the center of the apartment, where the furniture had been pushed back. An elaborate framework like an open doorway had been constructed, three iron bars covered with electronic parts and wired to various bits of machinery scattered around the apartment. "This must be what he was worried about?"
"Our pan-dimensional viewport? I hardly think so," sneered Fletcher. "We haven't published anything about it yet, or even discussed it with the academic community. I can safely assume you don't have a doctorate in physics, Mr Bane?"
The Dire Wolf gave one of his barely noticeable smiles. He was finding it easier to deal with this character. "Let me guess. You intend to open doorways into other dimensions, similar to but not exactly like our own, right?"
"Oh, very good." Fletcher seemed genuinely pleased. "It's more of a window than a door, of course."
"And do you think there is any chance of something from one of those dimensions entering ours?" Bane asked.
"Well, I HARDLY think so," Fletcher began but was cut off by McDonnel, who said, "We wish we had gotten that far. No, I'm afraid glimpses in other realties is the best we can hope for tonight. For whatever reason, you have shown up just in time for our first try."
"Even though tonight is ALWAYS our online Sudoku races," Fletcher grumbled. "But I will make an exception this one time."
Neda Bityakul had been listening intently and now she spoke for the first time. "Mr Bane, you look as if you are holding back when you have a lot to say. Am I right?"
The Dire Wolf took a breath. "You guys have to understand that I am from the streets. I don't know scientific theory, I don't know physics. But I can tell you there are thirty-odd pocket dimensions with easy access from this world. They are called the adjacent realms."
"And you know this how, exactly?" sneered Fletcher.
"I've been to most of them."
Fletcher opened his mouth but froze as he caught the expression in Bane's cold grey eyes. He suddenly felt he himself was in immediate physical danger. On some subconscious level, the pampered genius realized he was standing within arm's length of a genuine killer. Jeremy Bane had spent his life in perilous situations and had slain hundreds of dangerous opponents. It showed in his quiet confidence and even Fletcher caught a frightening glimpse of what the Dire Wolf really was.
"It doesn't matter if you guys believe me or not," Bane went on. "For all I know, your pan-dimensional portal might just show glimpses of weird psychedelic junk with no connection to our world. Fine with me. I'll leave you to your work. But if you are opening doors to the adjacent realms of the Midnight War.. Maroch or Perjena or Chyl, for example, and this draws their attention, then the three of you are putting yourselves in real danger."
McDonnel was staring at the terrified expression on Fletcher's face. The tall thin physicist had taken a few steps back away from Bane. "Wow. I never saw Fletcher well behaved for more than a few seconds. So, Mr Bane, do I understand that you are here to help protect us somehow if some other-dimensional nasty Thing tries to get at us?"
The Dire Wolf pointed at a wall calendar tacked over the sink at the other end of the apartment. "Pick a date."
"What? Oh. October 14th, that's-"
He stopped in mid-word at the sound of a crisp thwack from the calendar. A black-hilted throwing dagger was protruding from the calendar, Silently, Dr McDonnel crossed over and peered at it. "October 14th," he confirmed.
"I didn't see his arm move!" Fletcher said in a shaky voice. "I was looking right at him. I saw his left arm lower after the throw, but could not follow the throw itself. How is that possible?"
Bane retrieved his dagger and slid it back into its sheath under the sleeve of his jacket. "You fellows are experts in your trade," he said mildly. "I'm expert in mine."
II.
After that, Fletcher's attitude changed drastically. He watched Bane with the same wary fascination he would toward a tiger that had wandered into the apartment. Bane didn't seem to notice, he was studying the metal framework as Dr McDonnel explained its workings.
"I'll try to explain this in layman's terms," McDonnel said. He had an offsetting habit of tilting his head back and peering through the bottom of his thick-lensed glasses as he spoke, but Bane decided this was just an effect of being so short. "This is the Fletcher-McDonnel Pan-Dimensional Viewport. I came up with the basic theory but it was Fletcher who implemented the construction. Neda and I only helped as he built the device-"
"You could have done MUCH more if you had not been so preoccupied with going into Vincent's room for copulation," sniffed Fletcher.
"Don't knock it if you've never tried it," Neda put in cheerfully.
Fletcher sniffed and looked the other way as McDonnel continued, "Um, I really don't know how to explain this, Mr Bane, in terms you'd understand. Most physicists in fact have difficult grasping the concepts. To be honest, Fletcher and I sometimes find ourselves on shaky ground with this project. Basically, this device gathers iformation from hypothetical existence states... other dimensions.. and translates them here into images our brains can comprehend. The images will come at random. It's like a telescope into other realities."
"Fair enough," Bane said. "I have two concerns. You said you don't think anything can emerge from these images into our world?"
"I don't see how that would be possible even in theory, no."
"How about someone on the other side seeing us looking at them?" the Dire Wolf asked.
Now Neda Bityakul spoke up. She had put a white lab smock on over her T-shirt and jeans for no obvious reason, perhaps just because it put her in a professional state of mind. "I have been wondering about that myself. I have a theory there will be a mirror effect, and our images will be sent back to the dimensions we observe. If we see beings who react to our movements, that would be confirmation."
"Like most of your theories, the odds are better that you will sprout fingers from your ears," Fletcher put in unhelpfully.
"You'll find my fingers in your eyes," she said. "EXplain to me again why we put up with him?"
"Fletcher IS a certified genius in theoretical physics," McDonnel said. "His lack of social graces is something we just have to let ride."
"You have done some passable work in bringing my brilliant ideas into mundane reality," Fletcher admitted. He had gone to a closet and also shrugged into a long white lab coat, but his had a name tag.
As McDonnel and Neda started plugging things in and and flipping rows of switches, Fletcher went to an old-fashioned blackboard that stood in one corner and studied the tiny equations and mathematical symbols which covered every inch of its surface. "I know there's a contradiction here, I can smell it. Vincent, are you sure you went over this mess closely?"
"It's from YOUR notes, Fletcher!" McDonnel said as he thumbed a red button and the metal frame began to hum. The lights in the apartment dimmed noticeably.
"I'd hate to have the electric bill you two are running up," Neda chuckled. "Everything seems nominal. Viewport should begin function in thirty seconds."
Everyone gathered on one side of the device, just as a vague mist began to swirl and thicken within the framework. The portal abruptly contained a bright image within its open area... it was just like looking outside through an open door. They saw brilliant summer sunshine on a level field of short grass sprinkled with white flowers, with blue mountains far in the distance.
"Congratulations," "congratulations," "congratulations," the three scientists said to each other, shaking hands in turn. Fletcher added, "That Nobel Prize money will be come in handy."
Bane was standing with fists on hips, watching the scenery. "Elvedal," he said finally.
"What's that?"
"This is Elvedal," said the Dire Wolf. "And sure enough, here comes an Eldar." As he spoke, a slim figure strolled into sight and stopped short as it seemed to catch sight of them. This was a young, rather androgynous man with long golden-blond hair and lightly tanned skin, wearing a sleeveless tunic and leggings of plain cotton cloth. The man peered curiously out at them. As he drew closer, they could see his ears rose to distinct points.
"He's beautiful," Neda said. "He reminds me of the surfer dudes in Malibu."
"He's probably thousands of years old. The Eldarin are close to immortal," Bane said.
The scene shifted to a dim chamber of stone blocks, lit by two torches in sconces high up on the walls. A huge open book stood upon a lectern and two robed figures bent over it. As the image sharpened, the two robed men seemed to become aware they were being observed. They swung around and stalked closer and as their faces were revealed, the three Human scientists gasped loudly. The robed men looked like living skulls, with a thin layer of yellowed skin stretched tautly over bone. There was no hair and no visible ears; the noses were just stubs and the dark eyes glowered under protruding brow ledges.
"Oh my God," breathed Neda, "how horrible."
Bane had stepped protectively in front of the three scientists. As the skull-faced men spotted him, the Dire Wolf raised one fist, back of the hand outwards in a threatening gesture, and the strange beings drew back and stepped out of sight. The image shimmered and started to transition.
"They- they seem to recognize you!" Fletcher said incredulously.
"I've had dealings with the Nekrosim." Bane growled. "They'd better remember me!"
Another scene materialized within the portal. It was a muddy field under a cloudy sky, with two huge men in heavy quilted padding whacking each other with thick bludgeons. One had the emblem of a rearing white horse painted on his tunic over the padding. The two men were going at it full blast, and the loud smacking of blows landing made the watching scientists wince in sympathy.
"This is Androval," Bane said quietly. "You guys are definitely tapping into the near adjacent realms. These are Melgarin, not a bad bunch."
"I was expecting something barely comprehensible," Dr McDonnel said. "Something truly alien. This is a little disappointing."
Bane shrugged. "The adjacent realms border our world so closely that psychics get glimpses of them. I imagine if your machine keeps searching, it will go further and further away. But these are all familiar realms so far."
Neda turned her attention to Bane. "How do you know of these dimensions, Mr Bane? You say you have been in these 'adjacent realms'... how?"
"Magick. Gralic force beyond Human understanding." Bane shrugged. "I don't expect you guys to believe it, I just know what I've seen."
Fletcher sniffed. "Perhaps a lost science of an early civilization? Zhune, I suppose?"
"If you say so," Bane answered. "I'm not much on theory."
III.
The image dissolved and began to reform. This time it resolved itself into a sort of den with walls lined with scrolls set in niches, dazzling sunlight slanting down from high narrow windows. Seated behind a table piled high with pieces of parchments was a tall thin figure in a green silk robe with bell sleeves. As they saw the man, he seemed instantly to be equally aware of them. His head snapped up and a bizarre visage glared at them. Skin and hair were whiter than any albino, white as chalk. In a long narrow face, bright green eyes fastened on them and the wide thin-lipped mouth leered the most wicked and unnerving smile any of them had ever seen.
"A Dartha!" hissed Bane. "You WOULD find Maroch, wouldn't you?" Stepping in front of the three scientists, he whipped the daggers from their sheaths beneath his sleeves and held them before him with their blades crossed. Suddenly the blades flared up with a cold white light. The Dartha hissed and drew back.
"Hah! You know silver daggers when you see them, right?" Bane snarled. He slid the knives across each other and the white-skinned man turned away as if in pain. The image in the portal trembled and dissolved into drifting mist.
The Dire Wolf lowered his daggers and let out a shaky breath. "Whew. You guys have no idea how much danger you were in just now. That was a Dartha! and he was perfectly capable of blasting all of us across whatever distance separate us."
"This is astonishing!" Fletcher yelled. "The biggest discovery of the century! I see so many fields which will benefit from our portal..."
With a wry smile, Dr McDonnel added, "If we can establish communication with the inhabitants of these dimensions, the possibilities are endless!"
Looking at the Dire Wolf quizzically, Neda asked, "What do YOU think, Mr Bane?"
"Me? I think you guys are tap dancing on a mine field. I guess science is always dangerous, though."
Fletcher giggled. "That albino looked like he wanted to do us grievous bodily harm, it's a good thing nothing can come through the viewport other than translated images."
Bane gave him a skeptical look. The image in the viewport was shimmering again, shifting, turning into a snow-covered rocky terrain. Under a leaden sky, flurries swirled and snow spun over jagged stone.
"Not sure about this one," Bane said. "Could be any number of realms. I don't see any distinctive life forms."
As they watched, McDonnel frowned. "It must be just my imagination... but is it getting COLD in here?"
"Really, Vincent," Fletcher scoffed. "You must control your undisciplined thought processes."
"LOOK!" yelled Neda, pointing at a few snowflakes drifting into the room and settling to the carpet.
"I don't believe it," McDonnel said. "I would have sworn this was impossible."
Fletcher almost hugged himself in glee. "This just goes to show I'm a greater genius than even I knew. I wonder who will play me in the biopic?"
But Bane's stern voice brought them to a sudden sobriety. "Do you have a cut-off switch? A plug we can pull?"
"We can power it down in a minute or so," Neda answered. "But surely that won't be necessary?"
All four watched in sudden silence as the image in the iron framework whirled and resolved itself to show a hillside somewhere under a cloudly sky. Grazing in a clearing was a white animal the size of a deer, with a tuft on its tail like a lion and fur over its hooves like boots. From its forehead protruded a straight horn three feet long that ended in a point.
"A... unicorn?" breathed Neda. "Oh my God, I never dreamed I would ever see a real unicorn."
"That's what it is," Bane said warily. "This is Okali. That's a unicorn. But stay alert. Wherever there are grazing animals, there must be predators."
All three of them turned to look at him with sudden alarm as his words sank in and, almost as if it were a cue, a deep bestial growl rumbled from the viewport. The unicorn bolted and raced away, but a huge dark form stalked forward, staring at the humans on the other side of the viewport. Three scientists froze in unreasoning terror, holding their breaths as their hearts raced. The rear half of the beast looked like an African lion with dark brown hide but its front half was that of a gorilla.
"Impossible!" said Fletcher Sheridan. "Evolution couldn't possibly..."
"Quiet," ordered Bane. He was holding the silver daggers in his hands, legs braced well apart. He had seen manticores before and knew they were not natural beasts but the product of Darthan experiments. Like many of the more bizarre creatures of the Midnight War, manticores had been created by Darthan tampering.
The weird beast came closer, its black eyes moving over each of them in turn. The manticore opened its mouth, showing yellow tusks and roared, and Fletcher screamed a high-pitched yelp. At that, the beast crouched like a cat, wriggled its hindquarters and leaped out of the viewport into the apartment. The next few minutes were a confused blur of vicious movement. Bane shoved Fletcher hard, sending him flying far to one side and got the manticore's attention. The creature reared up on its leonine hind legs, raising its apelike arms to grab. Moving as fast as he ever had, the Dire Wolf swung around behind the manticore and leaped up on its back, clasping his legs around its middle as hard as he possibly could and stabbing deeply with both daggers. The beast bellowed in pain and rage, flinging itself around the room. It rolled over and over, and tried to reach behind itself to grasp the creature on its back. But it had only a few seconds left in its life. Bane was plunging the silver blades in and out of the animal's chest and the great heart was punctured several times, a lung collapsed and the manticore suddenly convulsed and fell over on its side.
A sudden silence filled the room like the hush after thunder. The scientists had unthinkingly scrambled as far away as they could manage, McDonnel and Neda were hugging in terror. The framework of the viewport had been smashed, and electronic parts were scattered in all directions. From beneath the five hundred pound carcass that sprawled on the carpet, Bane's voice came. "Hey, how about a little help getting this thing off me?"
Neda and McDonnel hesitantly crept forward a few inches.
"It's okay, the manticore's dead!" Bane yelled. "Just give me a hand getting out from under it!"
Finally, the two scientists took hold of the beast's hind legs and managed to roll it over. Bane struggled to get up. Much of his black clothing was ripped half off, revealing what looked like flexible armor underneath, and he was covered with dark blood. The Dire Wolf staggered and stretched. "Damn, took a beating that time! If that had gone on another few minutes, he would have bitten my head off." He knelt and wiped his daggers on the animal's hide, then sheathed the weapons beneath his sleeves again. There was a stiffness in his movements.
"Are you okay?" Neda asked.
"JUst bruised, I think, I'll be all right." He went over and dropped down into an easy chair with a grunt. "This all seemed so much easier twenty years ago."
Neda was examining the manticore. "I don't understand how an animal like this could possibly exist. It's all one organism, it just can't be possible..."
Bane gestured for Neda and McDonnel to come closer. "Listen closely. I just saved your lives. You realize that?"
The couple glanced at each othen, then agreed. "We sure couldn't have defended ourselves against that monster," McDonel said in a shaky voice.
"Okay, so you two owe me this. That body has to disappear. It can't be dissected in a lab or put on display or anything. It has to vanish. I am going to call a section of the FBI called 21 Black. They have offices in Manhattan. In an hour, a half dozen men in black suits will come here and wrap this carcass in a tarp and haul it into a van, never to be seen again."
"But..what about us? Are we going to be arrested? These men in black, I've heard of them. They make people disappear too."
"No," Bane said. "You guys are under my protection. They won't bother you. In fact, after I call them, we are all going to get in my car and go to a diner for the next few hours until this is all over. 21 Black won't bother you, they just dispose of evidence of the Midnight War." He got to his feet and flexed his arms and legs experimentally. "Ouch. Still sore. Good thing I have a spare set of clothes in my car."
Neda and McDonnel whispered for a few minutes, then turned back to the Dire Wolf. "It's a great loss to science, but we agree. We'd be dead if not for you. That's a big debt. We'll go along with whatever you want."
"Good," Bane said. "It's for the best, believe me. I can't tell you not to continue your experiments but I might suggest you take a lot more precautions. Maybe put the viewport in a secure room and watch it on closed-circuit or something. Say, where's the other one? Fletcher?"
From the door to a bedroom, Fletcher Sheridan shamefacedly emerged. He was threading a belt through a different pair of pants. "I- ah, I had to change."
11/29/2013
