dochermes

"The Barrow On Lonesome Peak"
4/24/2022

I.

"This is the Barrow we have come to investigate," Frank Mills said, laying one hand lightly on the grass-covered earth which composed the strangely symmetrical mound. A cool, detached scrutiny in his dark eyes came to rest on the great pile of massive weather-worn dirt. Grass grew on it but sparsely.

"Talk about a desolate place!" Unicorn said. "Who would have thought to find such a spot in this vicinity? Except for the smoke from that chimney over the hill, you'd never suspect there's a good-sized city right nearby! Looks like the Olivera family owns more land than I thought."

"Even before the Oliveras closed the area to the public, the locals have shunned this Barrow for centuries," the Trom replied.

"Yeah? Why is that?"

"Folklore and local legends warn them," Mills said in his even tones as he walked around the pile. "Nothing more substantial than that."

"We've found local legends sometimes are worth listening to!" Unicorn muttered uneasily. "Folklore handed down gets distorted but it can be based on real menaces." Ashley regarded her new partner without warmth. Just over five feet tall and barely one hundred pounds, the platinum blonde was still gorgeous at forty and the snug black field suit flattered her but her sour expression made her feelings clear.

She still found it unsettling how exactly Frank Mills resembled founding KDF member Leonard Slade. Six feet one, around two hundred pounds and in great athletic shape as shown in his own field suit, the Trom had the same regular bland features, clear olive skin and short black hair she had seen in many photos of Slade. If she had been shown the photos without knowing how old they were, she would have had no hesitation in saying they were of this man. But Slade had died thirty years ago.

Did the Trom clone themselves? Did they breed different occupations the way dogs were bred? Ashley Whitaker was becoming increasingly uneasy as she realized how little she knew about this strange Race.

"Historical records indicate that the Olivera family claimed this property in 1733," Mills announced. "They were not farmers themselves but leased out land to tenants and became wealthy. I can not find more than one mention of this Barrow, and that is a brief reference in a June 1853 letter to 'the cursed mound on Lonesome Peak.' There have not been any magazine or newspaper articles on this Barrow, to my knowledge."

Deciding she had to try to be civil because she was going to be working with this guy on the team, Ashley said, "Kenneth Dred left so many thousands of books. He collected forbidden knowledge for fifty years. We've managed to catalogue the titles and authors but honestly I doubt if anyone has even skimmed through most of them, let alone read them."

"Our captain has not agreed yet to allow a team of Trom researchers to begin scanning all the texts systematically. This would provide an invaluable amount of information about the history of the Midnight War but Sable declines to allow it."

"Well, that's her decision," Ashley replied, managing not to snap at him. "So. As I understand it, this thing is basically a tomb? It's a big pile of dirt over an ancient grave of some king or aristocrat?"

"Yes. They were more common in Northwestern Europe, but the practice has been found wherever Humans occupied land. My sensors are not functioning properly and I am not sure why. Readings are taking much longer than usual to collect."

Ashley began pacing around the mound, checking it out from different angles. "I bet that's gralic energy. It interferes with your tech. Megan had the darndest time dealing with gralic manifestations."

"I agree. One reason why my people have wanted an agreement with the KDF is to be able to study gralir. We have not been able to quantify it. Gralic force seems to connect conscious thought with known effects such as electromagnetism, gravity and kinetic energy."

The little blonde could not hide a gleeful smile. "That must drive you guys nuts, something you can't explain even in theory."

"We are motivated to seek knowledge," Mills replied evenly. "But we accept that many phenomena may remain beyond the scope of understanding."

Ashley sighed. You couldn't tease Frank Mills or bait him into getting annoyed. She knew, of course, that the Trom were not normal people repressing emotions... they were the result of thousands of years of breeding out emotions. Even their hormones were detached from their behavior. It was like having to interact with the fantasy of a perfect serene Zen master in a way. She hated it.

"Anyway," she said, "You're going to be busy trying to scan this heap?"

"Yes. There is no way to tell how long it will take to obtain useful results." The thin flat device in his hand chirped as if to comment.

"It's getting dark. I'm not gonna be of any use right now, to be honest. I think I'll get a few hours sleep while I can. The way the Midnight War goes, once things start to happen, we might be on the go for a couple days non-stop."

Frank Mills seemed not to have heard her at first, but finally he said, "You might sleep inside the CORBY. That would provide security."

"Nah, it's a beautiful night. Warm and dry and breezy. I think I'll sack down a little distance away, over by those trees there. Beep me if you need me."

"Understood." Studying the screen on his Link, the Trom apparently had already dismissed her from his mind.

Trudging through the high grass, Ashley had enough self-awareness to realize she resented this new member because she felt he was trying to take Megan Salenger's place. In a literal sense, he was. Frank Mills had been sent by the Trom to apply for membership in the Kenneth Dred Foundation and to be sponsored at Tel Shai, filling the vacant slot in the team left by Megan's death. That was reasonable enough, and the team would benefit from his joining. From a practical view, it made perfect sense.

But emotionally...! Megan had been Ashley's closest friend, not only in the Midnight War but since her childhood. They had spent many of their free days traveling and socializing happily. Even Megan's romance with Archie had left space for Ashley. And Megan's sudden violent death only two months earlier had stricken Ashley to the heart. She was still healing from her divorce as well, which didn't help. But even though the Unicorn understood her loss and grief had nothing to do with Frank Mills, she couldn't help disliking the man. Or the Trom.

In a round clearing near the edge of Lonesome Peak, the CORBY sat, landing gear held by chocks. The all-black stealthcopter had no markings on it, and its sleek sharklike shape gave it a decidedly sinister appearance. Ashley unbolted a hatch into the rear storage compartment and tugged out her knapsack with its sleeping bag fastened around its upper edge. From a cooler, she extracted a chilled water bottle, a ham and cheese sandwich in cling wrap and a bag of corn chips which she tucked away in her pack as well.

Staring up at the brilliant late Spring night sky with its crescent moon, Ashley relaxed enough that she realized how tense she had been. Even a few hours sleep would clear her mind. Ashley was picking a likely spot to stretch out when she sensed movement near her.

( the rest of the story )

"Ignore Your Chains"

7/17-7/21/2022

I.

The long dark night came to Josef Jubilec without warning. He sat up gasping, trembling, in the center of his hand-carved canopy bed. The fine linen sheets were soggy with his cold sweat. What was wrong? Automatically, he swung his head aound to see that the small green and blue lights were blinking steadily on the headboard panel. No intruders. No one had set foot on his island off the Georgia coast.

Nor were there any servants in the building. After Lucy and Sunny Jim had left his employ to get married and start over on the West Coast, he had gradually let his staff go. The chef, the groundskeeper, the two maids had all been discharged with a generous bonus and references to another good job. He had been left alone in the eight million dollar house. That was what he had thought he had wanted.

Josef took his pulse, finding it was rapid but coming down to normal. He could not remember any nightmares that might have alarmed him into waking, nor any dreams at all. He didn't feel sick. In the darkness, he fumbled over to his nightstand and picked up the advanced Trom device his team called a Link. He took his vitals. Temperature was 97.1, so he had no fever. Blood pressure 110 over 70, blood oxygen level 99 per cent on room air, EKG showed a heartbeat so regular and strong that no variations could be seen.

Then what was wrong? Why had he been jolted awake so dramatically?

Still not turning on a light, the Blind Archer reached over to the wall at his right side. Propped up there was the yew longbow he had fashioned himself and a V-shaped leather quiver holding twenty arrows. These were seldom out of reach if he could help it. As soon as he had been big enough to walk, the instructors of his sect had placed a bow and an arrow in his hands. Yet now, with a deeply troubling uncertainty, the bow felt foreign to him... as if he had never touched one before.

Wearing only the plain cotton pajama pants, Josef stood up in the gloom. Nearly fifty, he had the sharp definition and sleek musculature of an Olympic athlete barely twenty. His survival had hung on being fit. By then, he had caught his breath and was steady on his feet but something was still terribly wrong.

For the first time, he wished he had retained at least a valet. It was rare that he felt the need to talk to someone but this was no ordinary night. In the darkness, he left his bedroom and went out into the hall where a tiny blue nightlight shone in a corner down by the floor. Two original oils by Rouchard hung where he could see them each morning, one showing a sailing ship in a storm and another a rearing white horse against a starry sky. He did not even notice them now. Josef padded on silent bare feet down the stairs and reached the front hall. Without knowing why, he urgently needed to be outside.

It was a clear, chilly night in late October. As soon as he stepped onto the porch which ran the width of the house, Josef felt some relief but he was still uncomfortable. He lowered himself to the top of the five steps leading down to the paved courtyard and buried his face in his hands. What strange pain was this? Not the usual broken bones or pulled muscles, not another stab wound or the battered bruising he was used to, but a deep heavy aching inside his entire body.

Miserable as a mute beast suffering in silence, Josef Jubilec sat motionless for what seemed like hours. He wasn't consciously thinking but something was stirring in his mind he had long forgotten. Eventually, inevitably, faint rose-colored streaks began to show to the East. At the first hint of dawn, relief eased his pain. The Blind Archer rose slowly, stretched and swung around to head back inside with the eagerness of sudden understanding.

( the rest of the story )

TIGER NATION II

2/9/2022

I.

"I'm scared, I don't have a problem admitting it," Timothy Limbo said. Still watching the row of monitor screens and status lights, he pushed the collective/cyclic stick forward and brought the CORBY up to four hundred miles per hour. "Maybe I shouldn't have watched those videos of tigers leaping up fifteen feet in the air with no trouble. Or that one where a tiger catches up to a car going forty."

Next to him in the co-pilot seat, Jocelyn sounded more tired than anything else. "You've seen my Red Spectre, Tim. She is living lightning. She is faster than anything of flesh and blood and she can blast through granite."

"Yeah. That's true, and I'm glad you're paired up with me, to be honest. My caspers are great for searching and spying and stuff, but not much use against Tigermen." In the subdued light of the CORBY cabin, Timothy's face looked as exhausted as his teammate's voice sounded. His bright yellow hair had finally been trimmed by a professional barber, it no longer hung down over his forehead almost in his eyes. "Having you and your Spectre with me is a big comfort."

"I've got your back, my friend." In the years she had lived in New York, Jocelyn Garimara's accent had eroded so much that someone meeting her would not immediately know she was Australian from her voice. But the rich dark brown skin, straight black hair and distinctive facial bone structure made it clear she was Aboriginal, from the Northwest. Timothy was not a big man, a few inches under six feet and lanky but she was small as well. Both were wearing the KDF field suits with the layer of silk-thin armor and tiny weapons and gadgets in numerous pockets. She went on, "I never trusted anyone until I met our team."

"This is awful. My heart has broken in half. I'm still having trouble processing what happened but instead of having time to think, here we are chasing monsters again. How are you doing?"

"Okay, I guess," she replied. "It happened. We lost Megan. Maybe it's better to keep busy now. We certainly should concentrate on what we're doing for our own sakes."

"Yeah. Looks like another three or four minutes before we need to find a touchdown. I'm sure no one will be ready for us. Sensors aren't picking up any radar within miles, we're in a black stealth copter with no external lights flying through a moonless night. And the CORBYs don't make any more noise than a stiff breeze passing by."

Jocelyn took a moment before venturing, "Do you ever get tired of this, Tim? It feels like we've been fighting the Midnight War all our lives. We were barely adults when we started. I'm not sure I want to do this forever."

"No, I haven't felt like that. Not yet. But I'll tell you the truth, I'd rather be doing more research and rescues than fighting." He turned his head for a second and saw she was watching him thoughtfully. "Anyway, right now we don't have a choice. Those monsters are out there. They'll keep killing innocent people until we stop them. So they don't have a choice, either."

"I know. They're like animals, not good or bad, they act the way they're born to act. I've been given my Red Spectre, you've been given your caspers. I think we've been made special for a reason. We can save a lot of lives tonight, how can we turn away?"

"Yeah, I'm not arguing with that. We do have an obligation. Okay, I'm slowing down and descending. Night vision screens are working great but all I see are miles of trees. We need a clearing in the next few miles. See anything?"

"Not yet. Shogren's cabin is almost within sight, maybe we should circle a little... Hey! On your nine o'clock, there's a spot."

"Great, I'm bringing us down now." The CORBY touched down so gently that no impact at all could be felt, and as the rotors slowed, the Trom-built impulse engines reduced even their whisper to silence. Tim checked the status lights one last time, then the cabin went black as he shut the stealth copter down. Through the windscreen, not even starlight could be seen on this overcast night.

Jocelyn unbuckled the restraint straps from around her waist and across her chest. "We're suited up. All we need to put on is our helmets and gloves."

"We'll be glad to have these suits tonight. It's twelve degrees out there."

"You and your Fahrenheit," she said, lowering her helmet down and tightening the seal where it attached to her suit's high collar. Her voice came clearly through a speaker in the chinbar, "America's a civilized country except for its dumb measurements."

They got out, sliding their hatches shut, and the CORBY automatically locked itself and armed its alarm systems. Timothy held up an individually crafted handgun with a barrel thicker than normal, clicked its mechanism and holstered it again at his right thigh. "No dart guns this time. I'm not counting on anesthetic darts against people with tiger DNA, hell no. They'd be done eating me before the drug put them to sleep."

Jocelyn placed a hand on her friend's shoulder and squeezed. "We're heading north northwest, this way. Come on, Tim. We're doing what Megan would have wanted us to continue doing." She sat out with a brisk stride and he followed without hesitation.

That trek was little more than a mile and nothing unusual happened, but it was nightmarish for both of them. Grief and lack of sleep left them not at their best. Bane's description of the Tigerman he had faced had been terrifying in itself, but the reports of another savage killing in this area by one of these monsters made it worse. An experienced hunter with a Marlin in his hands had been ripped open. If an alert man holding a rifle didn't deter these Tigermen, then normal unsuspecting Humans would be completely helpless prey.

Making as little noise as possible, relying on the light enhancers in their helmets' visors, Jocelyn and Timothy covered ground quickly. Their nerves were raw. Even the slightest sound from the forest around them made both swing around with hands dropping to clutch their weapons. A brisk wind had picked up, howling through tree branches with no leaves to soften its whine. Even though they were both warm and comfortable in their field suits, they frequently shivered anyway.

Walking up an elevation that made jogging difficult, they slowed to a walk and finally peered out between a clump of birch. Ahead, on a hill from which the trees and brush had been cleared, sat a simple one-story cabin of redwood planks. The single window showed yellow light. They could make out a generator beside the humble structure, black smoke drifting in the wind away from a stovepipe chimney. Next to the cabin sat three all terrain vehicles.

As they studied the scene, from around them came the snapping sounds of things deliberately making noise. Timothy and Jocelyn pressed their backs together, turning in a circle, hardly breathing.

A low, mocking voice said, "Looks like a feast tonight."

II.

Years of Kumundu training failed Jocelyn and Timothy that night. The deepest, most primitive fears overwhelmed them. It was instincts older and stronger than martial arts or civilization itself, instincts from dim ages when their tiny primate ancestors ran shrieking from gigantic predators. Every nerve pulled at them to run as fast as they possibly could.

But the two Tel Shai knights stood where they were and showed none of this.

Moving out between the widely spaced trees, four men in dark clothing stalked in at them, encircling them. With their light enhancers, Timothy and Jocelyn could see that these Tigermen remained mostly Human normal except for the fangs and claws where their teeth and fingenails had been. The way they moved so lightly on their toes, slightly crouched, shoulders up, was inevitably suggestive of cats moving in on prey.

The fifth man was different, walking in a Human manner, holding a 12 gauge pump action shotgun with both barrels aimed squarely at the two prisoners. "Keep quiet," he warned. "Not another house for ten miles around, no one to hear you scream."

Surprising everyone, Jocelyn placed both hands on her narrow hips and calmly asked, "Is Baron Shogren up there?"

"Har! What do you care? You're gonna be dinner in a minute."

One of the Tigermen rumbled deep in his chest. "I smell fear but not enough. What's going on?"

"We have an offer for the Baron. Serious money from a group that wants to back him. You've heard of STIGMA, right?" Jocelyn said.

"He's not here, no matter what offer you got," scoffed the shotgun man. "He's in Florida and by the time we could reach him, these boys will be cracking your bones for the marrow."

"They can try," was her answer. From inside her torso, a shimmering crimson outline of a woman's form lifted up into the night. Crackling, surrounded by an aura that made its details indistinct, the Red Spectre hovered at head height. Faced with something they could not understand, the Tigermen cringed back as they would from a raging fire.

The normal one yelled, "I was told all about you!" and let loose both barrels of the shotgun right at Jocelyn's chest. At pointblank range, that storm of pellets would have shredded an unprotected person. Her Trom armor under the field suit dissipated most of the impact but nothing is completely effective. The air was driven out of her lungs with a gush and she fell backwards without trying to catch herself.

The Red Spectre seemed to resist being drawn back to her. Despite its flailing, the weird apparition flashed backwards to merge into Jocelyn's limp form.

Pumping the action on his shotgun, the Human menace started to say something but there was the sharp crack of a pistol immediately followed by a deeper boom as the man's body flew apart in gouts of blood and flesh. Timothy whirled, firing three more times as quickly as he could. Three more explosions thundered in the woods. The Tigermen were blown into bits before they could realize what was happening. Timothy had brought one of the KDF concussion guns, intended for actual all-out combat, and each resonance cap was more devastating than a grenade.

He managed to get three of the monsters before the fourth Tigerman sprang fifteen feet through the air and pounced down upon him with all its weight. Timothy had happened to have his gun hand raised when he was slammed down to the ground. The creature's jaws gaped wide and clamped down on Timothy's forearm with force that would bite cleanly through a bare arm. Even with the protection of the Trom armor layer under his sleeve, Timothy screamed as the bone broke.

The gun had fallen from his hand. There was no hope of reaching it, and he was pinned down in a way that prevented him from reaching his survival knife or other weapons. Timothy couldn't draw his legs up under him or wriggle loose. Panic ran cold through his chest. Even if this monster couldn't bite through the armor, those fangs and claws could do enough internal damage to kill him in a few seconds.

Red lightning blinded him. A fierce sizzling rang in his ears as Timothy suddenly felt the crushing weight lift off him. He took deep, shuddering breaths. The Tigerman slumped to one side with a trench seared through the torso that made the corpse fall into unequal halves. Gulping for air, his right arm dangling in horrible pain, Timothy scrambled to his feet and looked for his partner.

"Jocelyn! Jocelyn, are you okay?" he yelled but could hardly hear his own voice. Even with his helmet dampening loud noises, those explosions a few seconds earlier had left his ears ringing.

"I'm all right. I'm all right. Just.. got the wind knocked out of me. Damn, Tim, you sure blew them away. Not enough left to dress up for the wake, as we say."

Despite everything, he laughed at that. "Ow, ow. I'm pretty sure my right arm is broken. Our healing factor should get rid of the pain in a few minutes."

"I'll make a sling. Here's someone's shirt sleeve with not much blood on it. Hold still." She fashioned a workable sling and tied it up behind his neck. "Will you hold STILL! Stop wriggling."

"I guess my arm will heal in a few hours. That's the norm for us, but if the bones are misaligned, they'll seal up that way."

"Can't be helped right now, mate. If that happens, you'll need a little surgery and get a day or two off. Right now, we have to search that cabin and the vehicles."

Tim grunted and let his arm relax, feeling the sling hold it securely. "Good work with this thing. Yeah, you're right. We need as much information as we can find up there. How many of these creatures are there? Where are they? We might be taking that place apart all night."

"First, let me tell the others what happened. The man with the gun mentioned Florida, that might be exactly what our team needs to know." She twisted the left earpod on her helmet two clicks counter-clockwise. "Hello. Sable? We're both fine but we have a lot to report..."

III.

When the segmented roof panel slid open, freezing night air poured down into the tenth floor hangar. Sable's black hair whipped around and she shivered, but it would only be for a moment. Behind her, Ashley and Sheng stood unaffected because their field suits had an internal power source that kept them heated and comfortable.

Weirdly silent even at such close range, the dark stealthcopter CORBY II descended to touch down with gentle precision in the marked off circle on the floor. The top rotors slowed to a halt and the right front hatch slid open.

Stepping down from the pilot seat, Josef Jubilec crouch-walked over to where his teammates waited. "She's ready for action, captain," the Blind Archer said.

"Good work, Josef," replied Sable. "Thanks for going to Hawk Island and bringing it here. I can't remember when we last had both CORBYs in use."

"There's still the third one at the HCE Project. I contacted Stephen earlier to see if he was working on her and he guaranteed that copter can be wheels up in ten minutes. He also said he's standing by to bring her in and he'll be ready himself for anything we want him to do."

Sable nodded, untensing as the roof closed up again and the hangar returned to normal room temperature. "I don't know if that will be necessary. Jocelyn and Tim should be back with the other CORBY in an hour. If we have it here, Unicorn and Sheng will have to return this one to the island and then drive back down from Maine. There's barely enough room here for one CORBY at a time."

"We'll see what happens," Josef said. "I'm ready to go with them right now."

"No. I want you here in case we find another pack of these Tigermen. I'm still searching for where Baron Shogren has his hideouts. It's taking me forever. I can't simply hack into DMV and power company records as easy as Megan could. I'm not as smart as she was."

From behind her, Sheng Mo-Yuan said, "None of us are. We're doing the best we can with what we have."

Ashley Whitaker, the second Unicorn, chipped in, "You're dealt your cards and you play the game. That's what my mom used to say."

Sable jerked a thumb toward the door behind her. "You're off duty for four hours, Josef. I'd like you to nab some sleep. None of us have been getting as much as we should the past few days."

The Blind Archer's normally terse voice had softened as he went toward the door. "I'll be ready when you need me."

When he had gone from the hangar, Unicorn said quietly, "I've never seen him so gentle. He's trying to be supportive, captain."

"I know, I know. Josef has feelings, he was brought up not to show them but he's as hurt by Megan's death as the rest of us. Back to business. We have our hands full and we need to concentrate on our mission no mattrr what."

The Unicorn's perfect little face revealed more exhaustion than it ever had before. Dark circles under the crystal blue eyes showed she had not applied even her minimal make-up that day. Yet her voice remained firm and clear. "You don't have to remind us, Sable. I believe in what we do! Being Tel Shai knights is an honor and a duty."

Next to her, Sheng had lowered his helmet over his head, leaving the visor up. To most people, the Chujiran seemed to be Northern Chinese but that beaked eagle nose suggested his true origins. "We've got the co-ordinates of Shogren's facility," he said. "I'm going Mach-plus as soon as we're high enough, we should be there by dawn."

"All right. I'll be here, tracking down more leads. Jeremy is going through his own sources. He promised to contact us if he found anything instead of going after it on his own. But you know how he is."

Heading for the pilot side of the stealthcopter, Ashley scoffed. "Dire Wolf! If you ask me, he should really be called Lone Wolf." She hopped up lightly into the seat and raised one gloved hand toward Sable in a sort of salute, two fingers up by her temple. Beside her, Sheng got in from the other side.

"Good luck," Sable called as the rotors began to turn again. "Be careful." Overhead, the steel roof panels rolled open and a gust of subzero wind rushed in. The black helicopter shot straight up more quickly and silently than anything made by Human technology could match. Sable watched it go, finally allowing her face to lose some of its stoical strength now that no one was there to see her doubts and worry. "Please be careful."

IV.

As they shot up to twenty thousand feet, Ashley helped Sheng by watching all the monitor screens and gauges. The interior of the cabin was illuminated by dozens of blue and green lit dials. Any one of them going red would have stood out dramatically. "Radar realignment working fine," she said. "Although, to be honest, what would really happen if anyone picked us up? A tiny blip for a few seconds before vanishing? Any air traffic controller would shrug it off."

"Good to be careful anyways," Sheng replied. "Okay, we're accelerating to just under Mach-One. Still can't feel any shuddering but in a minute we'll be able to crack the barrier and really travel."

"These are amazing aircraft, all right. Mom gave me some lessons in a Bell she leased and they're incredibly hard to fly. You have to worry about fuel, which you don't with a CORBY, you have to watch oil pressure and engine temp and a dozen other things while you're also balancing lift and thrust to keep the bird from crashing. It's nerve-wracking and I have iron nerves of course."

"Yeah." Sheng hesitated before adding, "I wonder if the Trom will send one of themselves to do maintenance on these?"

"I dunno. I hate to think about it. Megan used to spend two days a week servicing the CORBYs and our Links and all our other equipment. I guess Jeremy or Sable will be working out a new arrangement with those guys. Bunch of cold-hearted emotionless geniuses!"

"We're speeding up now. Rotors are locked and Trom impulse engines cranked up. Hitting the resistance. There! We're through."

"I hardly felt anything," the little blonde said. "These things are basically spaceships disguised as helicopters. Hey, Sheng, I wanted to ask you. Remember when you fought that Turner guy who turned into a tiger?"

"As if I'd forget. Cirkoth watch over me! He wasn't like these monsters, he physically went full tiger. Nine feet long. he tossed me around like a stuffed toy. My Argent powers weren't much help. I can tell you, I'm not exactly excited to be faced an unknown number of Tigermen." Sheng made a disgusted noise.

"Huh. And I don't think my Horn will be any help either. Sure, it removes gralic abilities from anything from werewolves to Dragons to sorcerers. But these critters don't have any gralic force in them. I came packing serious weaponry this time."

Sheng checked a monitor screen. "ETA is one hour, eleven minutes to Florida itself but then we have to go into the Everglades, so who knows how long the whole trip will take. I figure we'll finding Baron Shogren's headquarters around two this morning."

"You know what's weird? I had a favorite Mad Scientist bad guy. I thought Cogitus was hilarious. He had a head like a watermelon long side up, and he wore mechanized exoskeleton armor because he was so damn old he wouldn't be able to hold his head up without it."

"I remember him. His real name was Sinclair."

"Well, I always laughed at the way he insulted everybody. He didn't even know he was doing it. Everytime he opened his mouth, he said how smart he was and how we were barely better than trained monkeys. After awhile, I almost looked forward to listening to him."

Sheng glanced over at his friend. "You're ODD, Ashley, but in a good way. He was trying to kill us, when he wasn't unleashing a horde of Insectoids or trying to keep brains alive in fish tanks."

"Oh, sure. He was still funny, though. Maybe being raised to be an action girl by my mom left me with a strange sense of humor. Listen, don't you think we should have had a service for Megan?"

"I'd have liked that," Sheng responded more somberly. "Back in Chujir, we had two days of fasting when a family member died, everyone got to say something about them, then we all got drunk on rice wine and hugged each other."

"We need something. We need closure." Unicorn pulled her helmet up and hung it on a hook on the back of her seat. Pulled up in a bun, the silver-blonde hair shone in the subdued cabin light. "I know her will said she didn't want any ceremony. She didn't believe in rituals or holidays or even birthdays. I know she's already been cremated and her urn will be buried by Archie's parents when the ground softens up. Where's that again?"

"St Anne's Church, up by Albany."

"Yeah, that's it. I think we need to all go up there and say goodbye. Otherwise, I dunno, we'll never feel like we were respectful enough. And another thing, don't you think Archie's taking it well?"

"He IS," Sheng agreed. "I mean, you can see he's crushed but he has been coming over to our headquarters building and working on Tim's motorcycle or our cars every day. I guess he wants to be doing something useful."

Ashley leaned over toward her teammate. "Don't tell anyone, but I'm glad he's acting like that. I expected him to blame us! I seriously thought he would hate all of us for getting her into danger."

"Guess not. He knew she loved this life. Listen, Ash, you sound like you're ready to drop."

"Yeah. I guess I'll stretch out in the back compartment and take a nap." She punched him lightly on the bicep. "I couldn't be any safer than being in this bird and having you nearby."

After she had unbuckled the restraint straps and wriggled through the clear divider panel into the rear compartment, Sheng Mo-Yuan exhaled sadly and patched into their satellite channels. He found some soft music he liked, something called post-rock, and settled down for the flight.

He didn't miss Chujir any more. Actually, he had lived in Manhattan longer than he had lived back in his home realm. His family there were only some uncles and aunts he barely knew, he had not had many friends in his village but he did like to visit Sifu Tang once in a while. Tang Ming, once a Tel Shai knight and KDF member herself. If not for her, he would never have known about the real world, let alone dared to live in it. He should go home soon and visit her, bring some gifts from so-called civilization.

There was Uncle Pao to think about, too. The old man had been very fond of Megan Salenger, one of the few white people he ever warmed up to. Sheng had often wondered why, but then who could explain why some people got along better than others? Uncle stayed at Sheng's office on Canal Street so much he was practically living there. Before he visited Sifu Tang, Sheng thought he should take Uncle Pao on a little vacation. Going to Arizona in the middle of winter should please the old Chinese. They had thought of each other as uncle and nephew for so long that either would have been startled at being reminded that they were no blood relation at all.

Sheng blinked as he realized they were on the edge of the Everglades. He had sunk deeper in thought than he had realized. The chronometer told him they had been in the air for an hour and a half. The Chujiran throttled down, eased the CORBY down below the speed of sound so he could engage the rotors again.

"Ashley! Hey blondie, we're almost there," he called over his shoulder.

The Unicorn mumbled something that sounded like, "Come on Cory, five more minutes, okay?" She could be heard yawning, getting up and climbing back into the cabin. "Drat, I was out like nobody's business. Some strange dream about climbing trees in the rain, I remember that much. Let me get strapped in."

"That's Highway 88 below us," Sheng said. "I haven't seen a car for the past twenty miles. This is really isolated territory. There! That house there up its little side road, that's on the co-ordinates Sable turned up."

Peering down through the windscreen, Unicorn wrinkled her nose. "Imagine living there. Almost an hour to the nearest store. Who the heck built that house in the first place?"

Instead of answering, Sheng said, "I'm going to swing around again. Do me a favor and use thermal imaging and neural scans. See if anything living is down there."

"I'm on it. Nah. Nothing. Maybe a few mice that are too small to detect."

"Really? That's disappointing. Oh well, we better search anyway. There could be useful information about these Tigermen. That area behind the house looks big enough for the CORBY and the trees say it's solid enough to land on."

"Go for it, Sheng. We must be crazy, you know? We're feeling let down that there isn't a pack of extremely dangerous bloodthirsty half-Human half=tiger monsters for us to fight."

"Landing gear down. Descending," Sheng said. "Here we go. Yeah, when you put it that way, it's funny. But we'll be looking for these creatures until we find them. Touch down, we're good." He began slowing the rotors, and switching off various functions.

Ashley opened the hatch to her left but, before exiting the copter, she held up a handcrafted pistol with an unusually thick barrel. "Our strongest resonance caps. You can blow up an engine block with these shells. Believe me, I'm keeping it ready until we're back in the air again."

V.

When they met by the CORBY's nose, Sheng had fastened his own helmet on but had not drawn his dart gun. Seeing Unicorn's questioning expression, he said, "I'm shifting to durability. As dense as I can get. Right now, my skin is bulletproof, muscles and bones are like leather and granite. I feel a little safer."

"No one can hear us talking, right?"

"As long as we're using the coms in our helmets, no." He began moving toward the house slowly, looking around the area. The light enhancers in their visors illuminated everything brilliantly. In this moonless cloudy winter night, they saw at a level comparable to noon in summer sunlight. The only drawback was range, the visible area only extended thirty feet in any direction.

"Say, Sheng, did you ever find a way to use two gralic effects at the same time? You know, be fast AND strong or strong AND invulnerable?"

"Nah. Not that I haven't tried," he laughed. "Teacher Jathis says I do actually have some secondary effects each time, though. When I get strong, my body also toughens up otherwise I would hurt myself. Same for when I get fast, so I don't rip tendons. And when I go dense, like now, my normal strength goes up a degree, too, otherwise it'd be hard to move."

"Jest wondering. Not that I'm envious of you having actual gralic abilities or anything, although I am! Check out how chewed up this front yard is. Lots of cars were parked here and almost got stuck in the mud."

"You're right." They stood in front of the house for a moment, studying the scene. Sheng said, "Looks to me like there was quite a crowd here and they left recently. The tire tracks are still sharp-edged, they haven't softened with erosion. There was a cold rain two days ago, judging by the mud, so these Tigermen were here after that."

"The detective speaks! What else?"

"Expensive vehicles, too. I'm not as good at identifying treads as I should be, but going by the size alone, these were mostly ATVs. Not a good sign. We're not dealing with one mastermind and only a few thugs."

"A Tiger Nation," Ashley suggested. "Not great news. Let's circle the house."

Behind the building, two aluminum garbage cans were full and there was a black plastic bag next to them, tied up tight. Sheng poked it with his boot. "Yeah, we're going to have to rummage through that before we leave. It's amazing how even otherwise sharp crooks leave receipts and envelopes in their garbage instead of destroying them." He turned back to the house itself.

"Ranch style," he continued. "Brick walls. I'd say built in the early 50s. The usual low-pitched roof, large windows, sliding glass doors. Not really popular in Florida, but then Shogren wasn't from this country."

"If you say so." Ashley had not relaxed her vigilance in the slightest. While her partner looked at the house, she kept turning in all directions, searching the trees behind them and watching the corners of the building, expecting Tigermen to come charging at them at any second.

"Door's unlocked." Sheng entered into a long kitchen that had been left with all its hanging pots and pans, coffeemaker, microwave on the counter and even some untouched fruit in a bowl on the round table. Coming in behind him, closing the door silently, Unicorn opened the refrigerator door a crack. There were still some items in there, but it was not stocked.

For the next full hour, they moved through the house. The living room had five blankets stretched out on the rug, with pillows or rolled up towels at the end of each one. The bedroom had two more blankets on the floor, as well as unmade sheets and blankets on the bed itself.

"I like this less and less!" Unicorn grumbled. "At least ten of these varmints were staying here. Add another one on the couch. I didn't mean 'Tiger Nation' as a literal phrase, I was hoping there was only a few of them."

She watched how Sheng searched quickly but systematically, tilting or moving furniture to look underneath, checking for any items that had been dropped and forgotten. From his lack of comment, apparently nothing he found was of any significance. Ashley herself checked the underside of drawers and in other classic hiding places, but with no better luck.

It was the biggest room by the front door that gave them the most to think about. All the furnishings had been removed. Deep parallel scrapes in the polished wood floor led from several directions toward the door. One coil of heavy-duty orange extension cord had been left behind, as well as a few scraps of cardboard and loose wrapping paper.

"Whoa, seems to me like this is where that Zhune equipment was used. They dragged it out without trying to protect the floors," Ashley said. "I bet it was because of Jeremy killing that Tigerman back in New York. They knew some Humans had learned about them and they ran for cover."

Sheng made a non-commital sound, as he was kneeling to examine scorch marks around an electrical outlet near the floor. "It has to be Zhune artifacts doing this. They need so much electricity that there's a danger of starting fires in the wall."

"I vote we stop for a minute," Ashley said. "First, I need a bathroom break. And a few protein bars, I haven't eaten since breakfast. Also, I think we should report to Sable."

"Okay. Yeah, you're right," he said, straightening up. "I brought some sandwiches. We can eat them while we take a break. Sable always worries about us on a mission, but I'm sure she's even more concerned right now."

Unicorn couldn't keep a saddened tinge from her tones, "Because of what happened to Megan. I get it. Let's go sit in the CORBY and take five."

Going back through the house and out the rear door again, they both found themselves moving slowly, facing in opposite directions so they were almost back to back. "Drat it all, Sheng," Unicorn said in a low voice, "I don't remember us ever being so timid. We've tackled the most bloodthirsty nightmares the Midnight War could throw at us."

"Why are you whispering?" asked Sheng. He approached the CORBY's tail, which did not have rotor blades but instead two vertical vanes using high-pressure air streams to help control flight. With all his training and experience, as keyed up as he was, he was still taken off guard. A huge bulky form scrambled up from under the stealthcopter's tail and crashed into him with bone-breaking impact, immediately swerving to leap up beyond head height and pounce down on Ashley. She cried out more in surprise than pain, feeling her gunhand pinned down to the ground by more than two hundred pounds of weight, the other foot pressing down on her chest and keeping her from drawing in a breath.

"Hey!" shouted Sheng from where he had jumped back on his feet. "Eat the bigger one first."

In a split-second, faster than an untrained eye could have followed, the Tigerman spun and vaulted across the intervening distance, ready to rip and slash. He dove right into a fist at the end of a stiffened arm as rigid as a bar of steel. Sheng had braced himself and didn't budge as the brute cracked its face against that fist.

Not expecting that at all, the monster fell back a step, shaking its head. Sheng closed in and swung a wide looping overhand punch that started down by his knees. That blow hit like a hammer swung by a determined blacksmith. Blood splashed out from a broken nose. The creature loped back out of reach and swung around to escape.

But Sheng Mo-Yuan ran and actually tackled the brute, catching him off balance and throwing him down on his back. Straddling on his knees over the Tigerman, Sheng blasted furious alternating left-right hooks to a face that was beginning to lose shape under those impacts. "You started this!" Sheng yelled as loud as he could, "But I'm going to finish it!"

Before he could be killed, the creature thrashed about, got Sheng off him and was up on his feet again. In the last second of his life, he saw a small dark figure aiming a strange looking handgun at him. Then the sharp crack of the explosion sounded as his head flew apart into fragments too small to be recovered.

The echoes of that blast echoed from the forest behind them. Ashley lowered her gun and shouted, "Hell yeah! We're the top of the food chain for a reason."

Sheng loomed up over the corpse, with its mangled neck a mere stump and the head obliterated. "Ash? Can you hear me?"

"Barely. I hope I'm not permanently deaf. That shot nearly broke my little wrist, these resonance firers have some recoil."

"Use the infrared in your visor," he snapped. "Right now. We need to see if there are any more in the woods sneaking up on us."

After a few tense moments, they both relaxed very slightly. Sheng said, "Nothing."

"Me neither. That ambush was my fault, buddy. When we were in the air, I searched the house for heat sources. But I didn't check the woods around the house. My bad."

"Next time, we'll know better. Cirkoth guard me, that was actually scary. I lost it because I was mad at myself for being afraid."

Bending down over the headless body, Unicorn scoffed. "I'm not going to bother looking for a pulse. Man. Sheng, we have a lot to tell Sable about now. Let's sit in the CORBY and I'll call her. She's gonna be glad to hear we're both okay. Such a mom."

Before turning away from the dead thing, Sheng noticed how the splashes of blood were steaming in the frigid night air. "Why did this one remain behind? Why was he waiting out of sight?"

"Because this Tiger Nation knows who is after them," offered Ashley. "Next time we catch up with them, they'll be ready for us. I have that sinking feeling we're headed for a full scale, no-fooling battle."

4/6/2022

"Even a Crooked Stick Can Draw a Straight Line"

9/3/2022


I.

"This is weird," Bane said out loud. His surroundings made no sense at all. White mist swirled up to his shins, completely obscuring whatever surface he was standing on. Overhead was a wildly intense night sky with blazing stars crowding each other more closely than any sky he had ever seen. The effect was an eerie twilight. It was chilly but not unbearably so. The air felt brisk and refreshing

Looking down at himself, the Dire Wolf saw he was wearing what had been his trademark uniform all his adult life... black slacks, turtleneck and sports jacket. But the matched silver-bladed daggers were not sheathed to his forearms, which alarmed him. He never left his house without them. All the concealed pockets and slits built into his clothing were empty, too. Bane pulled up his shirt and felt bare skin beneath it. He didn't have the silk-thin Trom armor on, either. The situation made less and less sense the more he took it in.

Jeremy Bane turned slowly around, but there was nothing in sight other than the mist on the ground. No horizon as far as he could tell. Really strange. His prosaic, matter-of-fact mind immediately began ticking off possibilities. The last he remembered had been stretching out on the living room couch in his Forest Hills home. So, was he dreaming? Could be. There had been a few times where he had been aware of being in a dream just before it ended. Or was this one of the adjacent realms? Not one he had ever heard of, but then even Midnight War scholars admitted there were realms which had been forgotten over the ages and of which even the names were no longer remembered.

What other possibilities could there be? Maybe this was an illusion of some kind? Either a sorcerer using gralic magic or some spy group with advanced technology was putting this in his head while he was in a trance or coma or something. That had happened a few times to him and to members of his KDF team. Once, Karl Eldritch had put him into an artificial reality that had seemed completely real, one of the worst experiences of his life. He should resist the illusion and try to snap out of it.

Bane's survival training had included using constellations to determine his location and what time of the year it was. The sky was totally unfamiliar. He couldn't find any star groups he recognized, not even from the viewpoint of the Southern Hemisphere or the Arctic. Okay, then this had to be an illusion of some kind. He dismissed the vague thought that he had somehow been transported to another galaxy or something as so far-fetched it wasn't worth considering. His life in the Midnight War had taken him to bizarre realms but travel into outer space had never even been hinted at.

So far, he hadn't come up with anything useful to do about the situation. Instead of raw terror or panic, Bane felt annoyed.

Where had Nebel come from? Suddenly, the familiar form of the blind mystic was walking toward but Bane had no idea why he hadn't seen the man before. Maybe nothing would make sense wherever they were. Nebel was wearing the blue cotton pants and long-sleeved tunic of a Tel Shai student. Presumably he had on the soft black slippers as well, but the ground mist hid them. They hadn't seen each other in person for a few years. Nebel's hair was completely white now at seventy, his long solemn face more gaunt than ever. And the eyes with their opaque pupils still had the unsettling habit of moving as if he could see.

"Hi, Garrison!" Bane said. "You're exactly the one person I'd want to see turn up under these circumstances. Where are we anyway? Is this real?"

"It is more real than the mundane world you see around you every day," replied the Sorcerer of Truth. "You are getting a glimpse beyond the illusion of the world."

"If you say so. Honestly, you know I'm not a deep thinker. Whatever is going on is probably going to be beyond what I can figure out."

Nebel smiled and nodded, his voice reassuring. "You are what you are meant to be, Jeremy. I can not explain this test and must leave you again. All I can suggest is that you speak honestly and from the heart to the three visitations."

"You lost me already," the Dire Wolf admitted. "This is a test? Who's giving it? And what are the rules?"

The blind mystic reached over and rested a comforting hand on Bane's shoulder. "It is a classic rite of passage, old friend. You will experience three visitations who will reveal much you have forgotten or have not yet learned. I have faith you will do well and we will meet again one final time." Then, without a sound, Nebel was gone.

( the rest of the story )

CORONET II: Even Cold Comfort Is Better Than None"

6/23/2022

I.

Keeping well back, Galvan and Unicorn had endured watching Sable painstakingly investigate the grounds for the past six hours. They knew their captain's intense concentration and wanted to do nothing to interrupt it. Sable's gift was enhanced sensory perception. She used gralic force to increase her eyesight, sense of smell and tactile awareness to levels far beyond what flesh and blood were thought to be capable of achieving.

Through each room of that mansion, disturbing little beyond occasionally lifting an object and then replacing it exactly, Lauren Sable Reilly saw details at an electron microscope level as she chose. She could see in the infra-red or ultra-violet range, she sniffed traces of odors that no forensics equipment could detect, she heard the wooden fibers in the floor and the furniture still creak as they straightened out after being stepped on the day before. Information poured into her mind in a deluge that only decades of strict discipline could assimilate into any useful coherence.

In her early forties, Sable was a trim, athletic woman of average height and build in the black KDF field suit. Her jet black hair was brushed back from a high forehead. Large dark eyes, a snug nose and full lips gave her distinctive face that normally showed a warm friendly nature but right now her features were set in a taut mask.

The giant Melgar and the petite platinum blonde Unicorn followed, silently making their own observations and drawing their own conclusions. Galvan loomed up a full foot taller than his teammates. He had the massive muscular build of a lumberjack, and his rough outdoorsy clothes and work boots added to that impression. So did the curly light brown hair and short thick beard. Not demanding Sable tell him what she had learned was taking all his strength of will. Staying close to him to give emotional support, Ashley Whitaker also was aching to find out what their captain had learned and was biting her lip not to start rattling off questions. Keeping silent went against her basic personality.

Finally, after what seemed an interminable afternoon of prowling the mansion, Sable dropped down gracelessly onto the wooden bench in a gallery lined with original oils. Most of the paintings were of Hudson Valley landscapes and historical scenes. As she sat down, the team captain buried her face in her hands and exhaled sharply. "Oh. My head is killing me," she said and drooped forward in weariness. "That was a long stretch of using my powers."

"You want some water, captain?" asked Ashley, breaking the silence of the day. The little blonde dug in a pocket of her own field suit. "I've got some high-protein bars here."

"What? Oh. No, thank you, Ashley, I'm fine. So much to take in. First, let me say that our friends were alive and unharmed when they were taken from here. No traces of necrotic tissue smell anywhere where they had been. Jin, Timothy and Archie were captured by an Alchemical vapor that enervated them. I recognize its odor. 'Yellow Lotus' is what it's usually called, it makes you too weak to even raise a hand but there's no permanent damage. Our friends were carried away, helpless but unhurt."

"An Alchemist?" rumbled Galvan. He had begun pacing back and forth, even the plush carpeting not able to muffle his heavy footsteps. "They are always bad news."

"Especially in this case. Let me summarize what I've found. Nine people have been staying in this mansion for more than a month. One was a middle-aged white American man in only fair health, with nothing Midnight War about him. He did maintenance and upkeep. There was a Southeast Asian woman about forty who prepared meals, and a specifically Chinese woman in her early seventies who served as maid and personal assistant. A medical doctor in his sixties, no longer in professional practice. They were mere servants to the real threats. I've identified two men as familiar enemies. Jorge Vargas, called Repel, and Indigo the Illusionist. A young woman who stayed here is one of the Calveron. I'm certain she's the Amelia Mancuso that Jeremy met three years ago. She has Invocation skills. The fourth Midnight War denizen is an non-powered man with technical skill involving Trom tech and I am certain he is the criminal called the Flying Fool."

"Dang," interrupted Unicorn as she plopped down next to her captain. "I HATE it when someone organizes a team of bad guys to imitate us. It's always a disaster fighting them. As soon as we joined, Sable, we had to tangle with Avathor's League of Predators and then that bunch who called themselves Dark Cloud."

"I remember, Ashley. Repel and Indigo were in fact members of both of those squads. The others are all dead. Duffy the Sumo, the Fatal Wasp, Avathor himself and even Arem Kamende, all out of the way." Sable straightened up and turned her gaze toward her teammates. "So we're dealing with one of these squads who are assembled to act as a strike force. There was also a Human bodybuilder staying on these premises but I picked up no hints of any gralic powers in his traces. He acted as a driver, as far as I can tell."

Galvin bent forward, studying her face. "You know who the Alchemist is who is leading this team, don't you?"

"Yes. It's bad news," Sable admitted. "We're dealing with Olivia Wang, the Spinner of Webs, probably the most dangerous mastermind still active. There are rumors in the badlands that one of her lieutenants has staged a coup and driven her off her throne. That would be Samuel Policastro. Our sources hint that Olivia has been on the run for more than a year, spotted all over East Asia and Europe with Policastro's assassins right behind her. It seems she has been gathering a team like our own for protection."

"And now she's got our guys!" Unicorn blurted, "Jin and Tim and Archie are all prisoners. They came here to investigate the stolen yacht and instead they were captured. Sable, we need to get after them right this second! Where can we find them?"

Getting back up on her feet, tugging down the field jacket where it had risen up, Lauren Sable Reilly gave Ashley a sad look. "I know Olivia too well, honey. She will be contacting us soon, certainly today."

"Why are we waiting for that?" roared Galvan as his self-control finally broke. "She's had our people for twenty-hours! Who knows what tortures she's putting them through? Let's get after them right now."

Reaching up, the tiny Unicorn rubbed a small hand between Galvan's shoulder blades. The Melgar's muscles felt like warm granite, so dense that rifle bullets would glance off and so charged with gralic force that he could fling a car across a parking lot. But his heart was as loving and vulnerable as any Human child's.

"It's going to be okay," Ashley told him. "We are too valuable to mistreat. Look, both of us have been taken prisoner by enemies, right? We got out fine. They know we hold in our heads all the secrets of Tel Shai lore and Midnight War history, stuff worth huge fortunes. The Spinner of Webs won't chance damaging us if she can get at that knowledge."

Watching with a cool detached eye, Sable nodded once. "More than that, Galvan. Olivia is a schemer and a planner, not hotheaded in the least. She doesn't want you or Sulak or our Blind Archer coming after her in a murderous rage. Nor does she want the Dire Wolf of all people enraged at her. She will not harm Jin, or Timothy or Archie without urgent need."

The big Melgar deliberately unclenched those great hands and lowered his shoulders. "I suppose even cold comfort is better than none at all."


( the rest of the story )

"Zombie Fight Club"

4/12/2022


I.

It was not just because she was naked that Jocelyn Garimara pulled the curtain aside the barest inch to peer down at Graham Street in Flushing. Almost a decade of Tel Shai training and her experiences in the Midnight War had made her constantly cautious. She was always aware of her surroundings, always knew exits from any room she entered, always positioned herself as expecting an attack at any moment. She wasn't even aware of this. Arthur had once said that she lived like a spy working undercover and he had a point.

At thirty-six, Jocelyn looked much younger because of her fitness and her enhanced healing. She glanced down at herself in the apartment's subdued lighting, Only an inch over five feet tall and not much over one hundred pounds, she had the taut unobtrusive muscles of a gymnast. The rich dark brown skin and straight black hair almost shone with health. The healing factor from the Tagra tea regimen meant she had no scars even after all the grievous wounds she had suffered in her career.

Well, no visible scars, she thought glumly.

The sounds of the shower had stopped. She knew Arthur would be toweling dry and getting dressed in the bathroom. It was an odd touch of modesty she found endearing, that despite all the times they had made love, he was still reluctant to be nude around her otherwise.
Jocelyn hastily scooped up her own clothing from the chair next to the double bed and tugged it on. First, the full body suit of flexible Trom armor that looked like dark silk, then her jeans and yellow T-shirt with a loose red flannel shirt over it that she left untucked. She had pulled on her socks and only her boots remained on the floor as Arthur came out of the bathroom and said "Hey there!" with infinite cheerfulness.

A few years older than Jocelyn, Arthur Tran was several inches taller and forty pounds heavier but still a relatively small man. He had the narrow shoulders and fine-boned hands common to people from his family's area of Vietnam, but he kept trim and athletic. The glossy black hair was a little long, going down over his collar and covering his ears, but the alert good-natured face was appealing. As usual, he was wearing black slacks and a white dress shirt as if ready for the office.

"It's a beautiful day out there," she said, coming around to embrace him.

"Hmmm," he said, after they kissed, "It's a beautiful day in here as well. I'm so glad you've been able to spend more time with me lately."

Jocelyn squeezed him tighter, then disengaged to go get her boots. "I swear to God it's not easy. In theory, I have one free day from the KDF each week but we're always on call.
Once a week, I'm off during the day but then I'm on watch duty from eleven at night to seven in the morning and I better not doze off then either. When we're not chasing monsters or serial killers, we're training like we're either getting ready for the Olympics or a Navy SEALs raid. It's a hectic life."

Arthur's apartment was incredibly cluttered with shelves full of books, DVDs, science fiction toys and anime figures. The walls had several movie posters, there were three hanging plants and a terrarium which at the moment was unoccupied. He dropped down into a
swivel chair in front of his huge TV and watched her putting her boots on with immense satisfaction. "Well, I appreciate you juggling your schedule so we can get together, Joss."

"I don't want to risk our drifting apart," she said. "It's a bleeding miracle we met at all. More than ten thousand miles from home and we bump into each other in Manhattan one day. I was so tickled to hear you order coffee at Starbucks with the genuine blue Aussie accent! I had to say hello. An Abo like me and a nice Hmong boy with a good office job."

Arthur Tran grinned and got up to pull on his suit jacket. "You don't have to report back at KDF headquarters until five. Plenty of time to enjoy a good meal at that Hoffbrau restaurant and do a little shopping. You promised to help me actually buy some new shirts with a little life to them."

"Oh, I'm gonna enjoy that," she chuckled. "You could use a colorful sweater or two as well, Arthur. I just hope and pray I'm not called for a mission..." Her words were cut off as a low persistent beeping sounded from her coat draped over a chair. Jocelyn loosed a stream of extremely vulgar language as she fetched her Link from a coat pocket.

"And you look like such a demure little lady," Arthur laughed.

"Oh, close your facehole," she replied as she thumbed a contact patch on the Trom device. "Hello, Sable? What's up? No, I can take a call. A what? Really...." She listened for a bit, asked for an address and then ended the call with, "Sure, no worries. I'll go see him and then report to you by my regular starting time. Okay. Bye."

She broke contact and gave Arthur a rueful glare. "See what I mean? Bloody hell! Any time day or night, Sable might call and send me out into the secret warzone. I swear to God I'm tempted to chuck it all and get a job cleaning bathrooms or washing dishes if I have to."

"What does she want you to do?"

"Go talk to some bugger named Dionysios Spiridakis. Can you tell he's Greek? He's on the outskirts of the damn Midnight War, he's not a sorcerer himself but he deals with them. The fool isn't supposed to be in the States but he's been spotted at a house in Queens not far from here and Sable wants me to go see what he's up to. My day off is a joke, Arthur."

He came over and placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently. "Joss, it's not even nine yet. We've got the whole day, you can meet this Spiridakis guy and then we can still have fun running around town. Right?"

"Oh, I don't know about that. Hon, I love you to pieces but you ARE a civilian and I would never place you in danger. But wait, I'm just supposed to talk to this riff-raff and let him know we're aware he's here. No gunplay, no explosions, should be safe as eating dessert. And I can always let my Red Spectre out, she's wild lightning ready to strike. Okay, tell you what. Just this once, I want you to come with me."

( the rest of the story )