dochermes

"Subjects of the Worm"

6/3-6/4/1980

I.

A flash of clear blue light flared up and faded, barely visible in the bright New Mexico sunshine. A man in black had appeared out of nowhere. Instantly, Jeremy Bane glared about him and got his bearings.

He was a gaunt figure six feet tall, wearing what had become his trademark uniform in the Midnight War. All black, the slacks, turtleneck and sport jacket made him seen even more lean than he was. With a narrow face under short fine black hair and a pair of pale grey under eyes under thick feral brows, the Dire Wolf made a striking impression anywhere he went. In one hand, he held a sealed manila folder with the red letters RESTRICTED ACCESS - EYES ONLY AS NEEDED stenciled on a diagonal bar across its front.

In the split-second after his appearance, Bane had taken in his surroundings as if he had been expecting a trap. He had been at war all his life and knew no other way. This was the Human Capability Enhancement facility, a cluster of six low concrete buildings way out in the desert. The blacktopped parking area was surrounded by a seven-foot high chain link fence topped with flood lights and cameras as if to keep out an army. Bane relaxed visibly. He had only been here a handful of times but he knew how good the Trom security defenses were.

Bane recognized with satisfaction he was getting better at using the Eldar travel crystals. The flash of blue gralic light had transported him instantly from the KDF headquarters in Manhattan to this site in the Southwest ninety miles from the nearest town. The process was also becoming less of a mental strain with practice. too. He barely had a headache.

Twenty feet away, rolled out beyond the open doors of a sheet metal hangar, stood a sleek black helicopter that had no identifying logo or numbers on its surface. There was no tail rotor, just two vertical vanes that used high-pressure air streams for control. One panel behind the cabin was open, exposing a solid surface of color-coded wires. Stretched out on a canvas mat under that opening, making adjustments with a tiny set of pliers as if doing the most delicate surgery, was a man in an olive-drab jumpsuit. Opened next to him was a toolbox marked HCE 16.

Bane approached and said, "Stephen Weaver?"

The man gave a start, rolled over and leaped nimbly to his feet. He was slightly taller than Bane, a bit older. Weaver was an American black man with short-cropped hair and a thick mustache under a prominent nose. Behind the friendly smile, wary deepset eyes watched this stranger. "Whoa. I was not expecting any callers today. And I figure I should have heard the gates open when you drove in?" From his hip pocket he yanked a crumpled rag and wiped his hands.

Bane offered his own hand, which Weaver firmly shook. "My name is Jeremy Bane. We spoke briefly on the phone yesterday. Leonard Slade said you'd be free from duty this morning if I came to see you."

Gesturing with a thumb at the black helicopter, Weaver said, "Where these birds are concerned, there's always maintenance to be done. They're never a finished product, just a work in progress. But I can take a break." He moved over to a wooden picnic table with flanking benches. "Coffee, Mr Bane?"

"Call me Jeremy. No, thanks, caffeine is the last thing I need." The Dire Wolf placed the folder on the table and took a seat as Weaver dropped down facing him. "Stephen, you and I have more in common than you might think at first. We both were born with something extra, powers normal Humans never suspect."

When he paused for reaction, Weaver simply said, "I'm listening."

"I'm going to talk to you about classified information that frankly I am not cleared for. My KDF team cannot be kept out by normal security measures. I know all about the Air Force's Black Angel Project, that you were the only functional levitator they ever found. And I know that after two years of testing you, developing the flightsuit and equipment and spending a fortune on the project, that the Pentagon shut Black Angel down. You were given an honorable discharge and pay raise on condition you accept this position here at the Human Capability Enhancement facility."

Weaver kept his face as impassive as he could. "Look.. Jeremy, I am not admitting any of this is true. Even it was true, I'd still be restricted by the Confidential Secrets agreement I would have signed. Right?"

"Sure." Bane unfastened the tab on the folder and passed it over. "Here. Of course, officially I never had these documents and you never got a look at them. They're going to be destroyed before I leave here."

Studying the files in silence, Weaver started to scowl and finally slapped the folder down on the wooden lunch table with a loud retort. "I think you need to do a little bit more explaining, my friend."

"Of course," said Bane as he took the folder back and fastened it shut. "In the Midnight War, I'm known as the Dire Wolf. I am captain of a team of Tel Shai knights, and our cover is a non-profit research organization called the Kenneth Dred Foundation... the KDF."

Weaver snorted. "I understood maybe half of that."

"The Director of this facility, Leonard Slade, is a founding member of my team. He had a lot to do with having you assigned to the HCE and putting you to work on that CORBY. You must see that the avionics and propulsion on that copter are way more advanced than anything the military of any nation possesses, right?'

"I want to remind you again of the Official Secrets Act and of non-disclosure agreements I might or might not have signed here," Black Angel said. "But I can admit that you have my full attention, Jeremy."

The Dire Wolf leaned forward. "Listen, Steve. I need you on my team. Think of us as ghostbreakers, monster hunters, a paranormal SWAT team. We are fighting a desperate secret war against the most horrifying and lethal enemies the Human race has ever faced. Imagine every horror movies you've ever seen come to life, only worse. Every nightmare you've head, every monster and maniac that you thought people had made up in books and folklore.. they're all out there every night. Vampires, Ghouls, werewolves, Skinwalkers, Trolls... and there are worse things that most people have never heard of. There are the Darthim, the skull-faced Nekrosim, Snake men, the Night Gorillas, the Sulla Chun. Every night, the Midnight War starts up and creatures of darkness stalk Human victims."

"Whoa, whoa, stop for a second." Weaver wasn't amused at all, the icy conviction in Bane's voice prevented that, but he was recoiling in disbelief. "Hold on, Jeremy, wait. You can't expect me to believe all that without SOME evidence. I mean, come on."

The Dire Wolf did not smile. His grey eyes were bright with intensity that made Weaver more than a little uncomfortable. "Oh, you'll see more than enough proof, Steve," he answered. "I'm not going to just show you photos or reports. Come with me and my team tonight and see Midnight War for yourself."

"All right, suppose I do go along. Suppose it's all true. I've seen plenty of scary movies and listened to my grandma's stories about Haunts when I was a kid. People always get killed at the end, you know? That makes me a little cautious. Why won't we just get slaughtered too?"

"Because we are special cases ourselves. My team are all knights of Tel Shai with special abilities and training, not to mention advanced weaponry. I lead six people who all have an extra gift like you have. Like I have. We can take the initiative against these monsters and destroy them."

Weaver tried to take a deep breath and calm down. "Damn. I might as well admit what you obviously know. I am Black Angel. I'm the best levitaph ever known, I can in fact fly high and fast enough to catch a hawk by the throat. ...But what about you? You say you and your boys are special but I haven't seen any proof."

In reply, Bane simply stood up and turned to face the hangar door fifteen feet away from where they were. He handed an empty coffee mug to Weaver and said, "Here. Throw this through the door, Steve. Don't worry about breaking it."

After a moment's hesitation, Weaver grinned and lobbed the mug underhand toward the open hangar doors. Something happened that he couldn't quite follow. Suddenly, the white ceramic mug was dangling at face level on the hangar door, swinging back and forth, held there by a black-handled throwing dagger that hurled quicker than the human eye could register. Weaver snapped his head around. Jeremy Bane was just lowering his arm from that throw.

As Black Angel took in what had just happened, he saw Bane slide a second dagger out from a sheath under his right sleeve and transfer it to his left hand. He said, "Today is June Third," and again there was a blur that could barely be perceived. His arm lowered.

Weaver leaned over so he could see the calendar hanging behind the paper-littered desk just inside the hangar door. The dagger was protruding neatly from that calendar. "I don't need to go check," he said. "I'll assume that you hit June 3rd."

"That's my specialty," the Dire Wolf replied as he went to retrieve his knives. "I was born a bit quicker than the average person. Steve, I want you on the team as a fighter. I've read your record. And we need you as a pilot and mechanic for the second CORBY that Len is preparing for us. But that's not the full reason."

Coming back over to stand next to Weaver, Bane went on, "You are a Combat helicopter pilot and field repair specialist, Lieutenant Weaver of the United States Air Force. I know you can keep your head under stress, you can face danger and go under fire without losing it. You won't panic and you also won't go berserk. That's a rare set of traits. You are the one Human in a thousand who can handle being a knight of Tel Shai and a KDF member. What I'm offering is a chance for you to accompany our team tonight for one mission and see for yourself. If you're the man I think you are, you'll be excited and eager and want to sign up. Well. What do you say?"

Weaver did not answer immediately, meeting the cool, hard gaze of those grey eyes directly and judging his own reactions. Finally, he stood up with a grin and held out his open hands palms up. "I'm going to have to verify all this with Slade, of course. All I have right now is your side of the story. But for some reason I believe you. I believe it all.

"All my life, I've been an outsider," he continued. "I tried to hide what I should have been proud of. And now you give me a chance to meet other people like me, to use my gift for a good purpose. If I turned it down, for the rest of my life, I'd regret not found out for myself. Count me in. Dire Wolf, Black Angel is with you."

( the )

"Where Your Heart Should Be"

10/1/1980

In the front hall of the headquarters, Jeremy Bane hung up his coat on the oak rack just inside the street door. He had already taken hers when they had come in from the rain. The Dire Wolf saw that Cindy was still holding the ominous green jewel they had retrieved from a novice sorcerer not a full hour ago. Destroying it would not be easy, but he had to find a way.

Cindy Brunner had lifted the delicate pale gold talisman that she wore around her neck on a fine-linked chain. This was a tiny wheel, crafted by the immortal Eldarin ages ago. Only a handful were in existence. With the protective Eldar talisman in her other hand, she felt relief from the oppressive influence of Darthan magick.

Glancing over, Bane snapped, "Hey! Don't let those things touch whatever you do."

Turning her head to reply, Cindy accidentally brushed the Eldar wheel against the Darthan gem. The detonation of primal gralic force flipped her completely upside down so that she landed face flat on the floor with a horrifying thud. Black smoke rose from her clothing. Ten feet away, Bane was driven back off his feet by that blast but even as unearthly thunder echoed in the hall, he was up again and leaping toward Cindy. She was limp. He couldn't find a pulse. For one second, he thought his own heart was going to stop. How quickly could he get her to the nearest hospital? But what would they do, treat her for shock as though she had been electrocuted by a mundane force?

Getting one hand under her knees and the other across her back, Bane sprang to his feet with the idea of taking the CORBY. Even without clearance, he could land on the heliport within three minutes. Let the CORBY be confiscated and all his secrets revealed. Let him get thrown in prison for the rest of his life. None of that mattered. Then he felt her stir in his arms.

Beyond all hope, he bent and pressed an ear to her chest, where the material of her shirt was hot and scorched. Yes, a heartbeat, growing stronger. She took a shallow shuddering breath and Bane nearly collapsed with relief. He sank to his knees and checked her pulse, listened to her breathing. Cindy weakly raised one arm to drape it around his neck and he had never been more grateful to feel a human touch.

Her eyelids fluttered. Bane tried to speak but nothing would come out. Struggling to survive, her telepathic mind reached out to the one person she trusted above all others. For the first time in his life, the Dire Wolf dropped all defenses, threw aside all barriers and mental blocks, to let her in. They both sank to the floor and lay still.

Twilight fell before either stirred. The windows were black and only a nightlight down by the front door had come on automatically. Bane forced himself awake first, getting his bearings and sitting up. Neither had moved for hours. As he looked down, he saw her dark blue eyes open and meet his as if for the first time.

"Hospital," he managed to croak. "We have to get you to a hospital."

"No, no, wait," she said. The blonde reached up to tighten both arms around him. "Hold me, Jeremy. FEEL it. Feel yourself holding me."

For the longest moment of his young life, the Dire Wolf was swamped with something he could not recognize. Everything had changed. It was as if he had been nearly blind all his life and now could see, or as if he had always been chilled and was now warm and comfortable for the first time. "I don't understand," he said at last. "What happened? What did you do to me, Cin?"

"Nothing. We did it for each other." The petite form pressed warmly against him and she finally got the strength to reach her face up and kiss him lightly. "I was dying. I could feel myself slipping away. I reached out with my mind and you gave yourself as an anchor. Jeremy, can't you tell what's going on? Your emotions are unblocked. You're really alive."

"It hurts," he said. "I'm afraid.. but I like it." The cold grey eyes had never even misted with grief or joy before but unexpectedly tears flooded out and ran freely down his face. "Oh my God. It's so strange. Cin, I was always fighting to keep you out. I wanted to be close to you but I couldn't."

"I know, hon, I know. It was ripping me up inside. You've had a locked box where your heart should be. Sometimes I thought I couldn't take it anymore but I always hung on one more day." She shifted on his lap to get more comfortable and pressed her face into his shoulder. "Are you glad this happened?"

"Yeah. Absolutely. I'm having trouble dealing with it. I'm not crying exactly, I have never been able to cry, but my eyes keep pouring. I kept everyone at such a distance. Cin, I could never tell Mr Dred how much he meant to me. He was the first human being to ever show any trust and faith in what I could become. And I never really thanked him."

"Don't get up. Not yet. Listen, Jeremy, Mr Dred knew you loved him. We talked about it when he was training me how to use my powers. He once told me that you weren't the son he never had... you were BETTER than the son he never had."

Bane realized he was squeezing her a little too tightly and eased up. "Ooof," she said gratefully. "My ribs were starting to give. I think there is a lot we have to figure out. I feel a permanent rapport between us now. Hon, our minds will always be in contact from now on, well, at least within my range of a few miles. You'll always be able to reach me with a thought."

"That sounds good," he admitted. "I like the idea."

Reaching up, she pressed her fingertips to his wet cheeks. "I will follow you into Hell if you want, Jeremy. And I know that if I went there, you'd come for me." She chuckled. "And all it took for us to unite was a near-death experience."

Bane made a funny snuffling noise that turned into laughter. For the first time he could remember, the Dire Wolf actually let out full unrestrained laughter and Cindy joined him.

3/17/2019

"The Terror of Li Tung"

2/14/1980

I.

The doorbell rang in a single unbroken note, as if whoever was outside dared not let it stop. It was one-thirty on a dark cloudy night with a wind chill in the single digits, and the old ten-story building had been dark except for a single light on the second floor. In a few seconds, lights blazed on in the windows of the first floor and a gaunt young man dressed all in black opened the door to the street. "Okay already," he snapped. "What's the problem?"

"Let me in, hurry, hurry please." The visitor was a beefy man in shabby clothes, unshaven and not smelling too fresh. He tried shoving past the young man, who turned sideways to let him into the tiny foyer. It was just big enough for the two of them to stand without brushing against each other, all it held was a bench and a shelf with a lamp on it. On the wall was an oil portrait of a gnomish elderly man tagged KENNETH DRED 1900-1979.

"You better calm down," suggested the man in black with just a trace of menace in his voice. "Give me your name and why you're here, right now."

"Metzger! Phil Metzger. I need to see Kenneth Dred. Hurry, please."

The young man glared with cold grey eyes at the frantic visitor. "You're a little late, pal." He pointed at the portrait behind him. "Mr Dred passed away last year. My name is Jeremy Bane, I'm carrying on his work."

"Oh my God, no. What am I gonna do? Listen, I met Dred a few years ago when I got mixed up with Red Sect. He helped me escape them. He told me to come here if I ever needed help again." Metzger's eyes swung wildly around the tiny room. The door to 38th Street still stood wide open. "You're Dire wolf, aren't you? I've heard of you."

Bane jabbed a finger into Metzger's chest. "Get a grip. Tell you what. Step inside and you can tell me what you're so afraid of."

"There's no time. Li Tung knows I'm running. I thought he was a fraud but he's real... I've seen too much. I've seen the monster he keeps. Someone has to stop him!"

Those were Metzger's last words. Jeremy Bane instinctively swung aside, flattening against the wall as his instincts for danger flared up. A blinding flash of lurid red light tore right through Metzger's chest with a stink of burning meat. He didn't even have time to scream before Bane was catching his corpse. With a low curse, the Dire Wolf dropped the body and dove out through the open door into the empty street. He was just a second too late, the red tailights of a black Pontiac were swinging around the corner to Lexington Avenue. Fast as he was, he couldn't catch it on foot and all he had on him was the anesthetic dart gun which was no use against a vehicle.

For one second, his eyes swept the buildings on the opposite side of the street, but he couldn't spot a clue that anyone would have seen what happened. The few lit windows in apartments above ground level stores were closed and curtained against the winter. Instantly, he swung back inside and closed the door. The Trom-built locks and alarms went on automatically with low clicks. He stared down at the body at his feet with a calmness that was remarkable under the circumstances but then, he had become used to sudden unexplainable violence in his life.

At the moment, he was alone in the headquarters building. His teammates were all scattered on their own business, even Cindy was at Tel Shai training for a few days. Taking a pair of thin latex gloves from a pocket of his black sport jacket, he knelt down and searched the body as Hawk had been teaching him how to do. Metzger was wearing work shoes, jeans and a red flannel shirt, all almost worn out. Whoever Li Tung was, he didn't seem to pay his stooges well. The pockets held three keys on a ring, none of them for a car. There was an ancient wallet which did hold a driver's license though, as well as a few assorted ticket stubs and so forth. There was forty dollars and some change, a folding knife and a clean red handkerchief. Bane put all these items on a shelf just inside the inner door, then picked up the body under the arms and dragged it inside.

The Dire Wolf closed the inner door and hauled what remained of Phil Metzger into the emergency room to his left. This held two adjustable hospital beds and he placed the corpse on one of them, got a sheet from a closet and covered it up. He had no intention of reporting the death. It was far from the first felony he had committed this way. The Dire Wolf had decided to dispose of the corpse through a Gateway crystal, sending it hundreds of miles out into the Atlantic. Several hitmen who had been sent after him had disappeared this way, leaving no evidence and soon their bosses had stopped trying.

As he covered the body, Bane felt a slight twinge. If he had let Metzger into the hall and closed the door, the man would still be alive. Under the floor was the powerful talisman Yellow Shield which would have blocked that gralic bolt. Well, too late now. If this guy had hired out to a warlock after having previously gotten in trouble working for Red Sect, he had been no choir boy. Bane remembered everything that Atron Ke had told him about Li Tung when they had met a year earlier. The warlock was a Gelydra and a worshipper of Grelok, so he would be as near the ocean as possible. Using one of the Eldar arrows that pointed toward gralic force, Bane thought he should be able to track down Li Tung almost at once, especially if he headed down toward the Battery to start. Right now was a good time for that start.

Turning off the light in the emergency ward, the Dire Wolf trotted quickly up the stairs toward the second floor but before he reached the landing, an oppressive sensation of impending danger hit him with almost physical intensity. His Midnight War experiences had sharpened all his instincts. Bane stopped in mid-step and swung around to see a roiling ball of red light churn in the air almost within reach.

He folded his arms in front of him, hands near the hilts of the silver daggers sheathed under his sleeves. This was something new. A grotesque face took shape within that red cloud, unstable and wavering as if seen through turbulent water, growing clearer and suddenly seeming able to see him. It was the grotesque face of one of the Ulgorans with marked piscine qualities. The bulging dark eyes, two thin mustaches hanging from the corners of a wide lipless mouth, the smooth rubbery skin.. all marked the man as an inhabitant of sunken Ulgor.

Bane had never seen the face before but there was no doubt. "So. Li Tung, eh? You've got your nerve."

"Surface man!" hissed a voice across a great distance. "You have much to answer for."

"Yeah? You blasted a hole through a guy right inside my front door and you tell me I did wrong? We're going to meet face to face, buddy, and I promise you that you won't like it." Bane stood his ground as the unsteady red cloud drifted closer.

Li Tung did not speak for a long moment. Evidently he was used to people being terrified by this image of his face appearing in mid-air and Bane's steady defiance surprised him. The Ulgoran sorcerer continued, "You will tell me now what that fool said to you!"

"I will tell you now to drop dead," Bane answered. He suddenly whipped out a dagger from its sheath and slashed it right through the red aura. Those daggers had their silver blades ensorcelled by the immortal Eldarin and they were potent. The boiling cloud dispersed with a sharp popping noise like a bubble bursting. Bane watched the space where it had been suspiciously before sliding the dagger back under his sleeve. "And don't come back," he snapped at the empty air.

II.

In a damp chamber deep underground, Li Tung cried out and reeled back a step. He pawed at his face and was reassured he had not actually been harmed. When those ensalir daggers had pierced his gralic projection, it had felt as if his real face had been slashed. Getting his bearings, drawing his long heavy cloak about his corpulent body, the Geldydra hissed angrily and turned to face his three Human hirelings. They shrank back in unconcealed dread.

It was disconcerting to see big powerful men, with thick necks and muscular arms, step back fearfully before the stare of a single strange being. Any one of them looked as if he would be able to break the sorcerer without trouble, but they all fell back against the wall as if he were aiming a deadly weapon at them. The chamber they were in had rough stone walls decorated with abstract murals painted in shades of blue and green. In one wall was set a massive steel plate ten feet to a side, and against the wall facing it was a carved stone throne draped with some rubbery fabric. The high back of that throne curved forward in a shape resembling a shark snout, even the eyes reresented by black gems. The sorcerer stood in front of that throne, trembling with murderous rage.

"The fool Metzger has gone to join his ancestors," Li Tung announced in a voice that had slight sibilance to it. "But he has spoken to a surface man. Now that air-breather must die as well. My presence here above the waves must remain secret until I am ready to strike. Madigan! You are a member of this city's criminal underworld. It is you who will slay this Jeremy Bane."

"Bane....?" gasped Madigan. He was massive enough to be a professional wrestler, and his flattened features suggested he had taken a few beatings in his life. "You mean, the Dire Wolf? Kill him? Hell."

"Yes." Li Tung held up clawlike hands and a vague red shimmer played around them. "Do not tell me you fear him more than you do me!"

"No, boss, of course not." Madigan stood up straighter, tugged his jacket down and squared his shoulders. "You want him dead, he's on the way to the morgue."

The warlock smiled, his face more fishlike than ever. "It is well you have answered thus. Your rewards have been substantial so far, have they not? You have been given more wealth since serving me than you have ever seen before." Li Tung lowered his hands and the gralic force faded. "Make your plans. Purchase whatever weapons you need, hire more men if necessary, but I want to see the head of this Dire Wolf on the floor before me."

From nearby, a deep rumbling growl sounded through the thick walls. Again, the hired thugs flinched involuntarily and Li Tung smirked as he saw this. "Do not fear the Malak," he reassured him. "He will be well fed on normal meat from now on. Go now. I command you to slay Jeremy Bane."

"You can try," came a mocking voice from behind him.

III.

Everyone jumped as if stung by scorpions. In the doorway to that chamber stood a thin figure all in black, watching them with grey eyes that missed nothing. The three hired goons snatched for shoulder holsters or waistbands but, although they were tough hardened killers, their reflexes were hopelessly inadequate against what they faced. Bane drew and fired three times so quickly it sounded like one explosion, his long-barreled Smith & Wesson booming unbearably loud in the enclosed space. The thugs twitched and fell in different directions, one of them staying alive just long enough to break his fall with his hands before sagging down to the moist floor. The echoes of those three shots slammed back and forth from wall to wall.

The Dire Wolf swung his pistol over to cover Li Tung, holding his arm out full length. The sorcerer glanced back and forth from the intruder to the three dead men, then deliberately strode over to the throne set against the far wall and lowered himself with as much dignity as he could summon. He concealed his taloned hands in the loose sleeves of his robe and met Bane's glare without unease.

"You will want to know why I am here in your surface world," said the warlock with a smirk. "Surely you will not slay me before you learn that?"

"Don't be too sure," Bane answered, but he did gently lower the hammer on the pistol and brought his arm down. "It might be safer to just plug you now."

"I must know, how did you locate me? And so quickly?"

"Why should I give away my tricks? Look, Li Tung. Your life is hanging by a thread right now. I suggest it's in your best interests to start telling me things." The Dire Wolf stepped closer, moving past the still-warm body of the man who had been called Madigan. "Every time a Gelydra shows himself on the surface, there's a lot of dead people. Maybe we can prevent that. Maybe you yourself can survive this night."

Li Tung made a wheezing sound that was his Race's type of laughter. "Oh, the confidence of youth! Little air-breather, you have more to learn than I have patience to teach. But let me give a slight lesson. Do you know this throne room is under sea level? That this wall right there has tons of water beyond it?"

"Yeah, so does the Lincoln Tunnel. So what?"

"And that steel panel suggests nothing to you?" As he said that, Li Tung saw Bane's eyes flicker almost involuntarily toward the huge metal plate set in the far wall and the sorcerer yanked a chain that hung by his throne. The plate crashed down inward on hidden hinges and a solid wall of freezing sea water thundered into that chamber like a living thing. It swept furiously to fling Bane off his feet and throw him head over heels. Even as he realized what had happened, the Dire Wolf was tugged a thin clear membrane from its slit inside the lapel of his jacket. The membrane had tabs which hooked over his ears to cover his nose and mouth.

With an effort of will because it was not a natural thing to do underwater, Bane took a breath. The Trom-crafted membrane separated oxygen from water by its one molecule-thick permeability. The Dire Wolf got his footing as the chamber had been known filled completely with icy water. He could survive with the membrane, but it was meant for emergencies and he was not drawing in as much to breathe as he would in open air. He always felt out of breath when using the Trom membranes. Stroking with his arms, he faced the Gelydra warlock and realized he had dropped his gun during the deluge.

Li Tung breathed in through his lipless mouth and as he exhaled, gills slits opened on either side of his throat. It was the final touch to demonstrate just how inhuman he was. He had not stirred as the room had been flooded. "Interesting. I thought you would be floating dead by now, but you seem to have some clever surface gadget. Hah! Well, I have a few surprises of my own yet."

"Time to finish this," Bane answered, his voice distorted by the water. He lunged toward the sorcerer but swung around barely in time to evade a huge dark shape that had flashed toward him and which his peripheral vision barely caught. The clash of fanged jaws snapping shut was right in his ear. The Dire Wolf pushed up off the stone floor as strongly as he could and just escaped being swiped by a dark leathery arm as thick as his body.

It was a Malak! He had never seen one but he had read of them in Kenneth Dred's notes. Created by the Darthim to guard the island of Maroch, they were unnatural hybrids. Its ten foot long body was like that of a tiger shark but with humanlike arms and legs ending in clawed digits. The Malak's head had a noticeable forehead and vicious intelligence in the glassy eyes. The beast swept up toward Bane, its gaping mouth opening wide enough to take him in whole in another second. Fighting the water resistance, the Dire Wolf twisted sideways. He heard Li Tung laugh gleefully. Bane swirled upwards toward the ceiling, drawing his daggers and as the Malak lunged, its snout was sliced deeply by a silver blade. Black blood spread in the water.

The sharkbeast pawed at its injured nose and plunged forward again, but Bane evaded that charge and the silver blades slid along the monster's flank, slitting the skin for a good nine inches. That hide was so abrasive that just brushing against it tore Bane's skin. With a roar, the Malak spun and its tail crashed against Bane harder than a sledge hammer. The Dire Wolf spun backwards, losing control and dropping one of his knives. The flexible Trom-foil armor he wore under his clothes was good but not perfect and some of that impact got though. It was hard enough to breathe through the membrane and now his ribs ached and he was not drawing a full breath at all. Bane shifted his grip on his remaining dagger as the Malak touched its wounded side. The small piglike eyes fastened on him with murderous intent.

In that instant, a new form hurtled through the opening to the ocean and slammed headlong into the injured brute. The newcomer was a man in a grey hide outfit, wielding a three-foot knive with a bone blade honed sharper than steel. He drove that weapon deep into the Malak's chest cavity, twisted it and tugged it down to cut the beast's torso open so internal organs spilled out into the water. All this happened in less than a second. The newcomer kicked away from the dying brute and stared up at the stunned Dire Wolf.

Atron Ke had sandy blond hair over a bony angular face and cloudy blue eyes. He wore his usual tunic and leggings of grey rough sharkhide, and the bone-bladed machete now had strings of dark blood and gore clinging to it. As he saw Bane, Atron chuckled. The two short fleshy horns at his temples gave him a demonic aspect.

"Ah, you have not forgotten me, Dire Wolf! Did you think you would be glad to meet the Destroyer again?"

Bane caught his breath, sheathed his dagger and managed a smile. "Yeah, you picked a good time to make a dramatic entrance." He hesitated, but added, "Thanks, Atron. I had my hands full."

"And where is Li Tung?" demanded the Destroyer. They both glared about the submerged room but only the dead were there with them... the Malak and the three thugs. "Ever the coward. When he saw me arrive, the warlock fled. He has no stomach for battle. Bah, what a weakling."

Retrieving his other dagger, Bane sheathed it carefully. Those blades had been a gift to him from Kenneth Dred when they had first met and he would do whatever was necessary to hold onto them. "You came here looking for Li Tung? What was he up? What was his scheme this time?"

"Take time to let your breath return," the Gelydra warrior told him. "This water is too cold for your Human body, Dire Wolf. Come. Let us get up in the air." Bane swam toward the door through which he had entered that chamber and they moved up steep stone steps. As the two of them emerged to a corridor above sea level, they broke surface and were standing on a dry floor. Bane yanked off the oxygen membrane and took some deep breaths. That device kept him alive under water but it was nowhere near as good as natural air.

Watching him, Atron had rinsed off his weapon and now he placed it in the carved walrus tusk scabbard across his back. "Long have I pursued Li Tung," he somberly said. "Never will I forgive him for his attempts to enthrall me... as happened on the night we fought, you and I. Well, he may have postponed my cutting his head off for the moment but I will catch him yet. Back to my world beneath the waves I go! Fare thee well, Jeremy."

"Wait. Atron, wait. I need to know what Li Tung was planning. In case he comes back, so I can keep an eye on him." Bane was dripping and shivering but his voice kept its usual authority.

The Gelydra shrugged. "I know he was meeting a Human named Lee Hutchins. An Alchemist. What he intended to do with this Alchemist, I cannot say. But you would be wise to locate Lee Hutchins and keep a wary eye on him."

"I'll do that. Thanks again, Atron. Maybe I can repay you someday."

The ferocious Destroyer grinned and raised an admonishing forefinger. "I do not doubt it. We shall meet again, perhaps as allies, perhaps not. The Midnight War rages and both our lives are far from over." With that, Atron dove headlong down into the cold dark waters which covered the steps leading into the flooded chamber. Bane stood there thoughtfully watching the ripples lessen, then his pragmatic matter-of-fact mind took over and he decided that the moment his main concern was getting into dry clothes in a warm room. Then he realized he never did find out what Li Tung's scheme had been.

1/24/1972- Rev 6/15/2014