dochermes | Entries tagged with avathor

"Passing Lane On the Highway To Hell"

3/28/2003

I.

"What is your knight even doing way over there? He's useless, absolutely useless. He can't even feed himself or wipe his own butt. I'd trade him for a used beat-up old pawn, if you asked me. Wait. When did you take my queen? I didn't even see it."

When the flow of chatter from Unicorn paused for a second, Megan Salenger looked up from the war helmet she was adding new circuits to. "Two moves ago. You were concentrating on trying to attack my rook on E4."

Ashley threw back her long platinum blonde hair and huffed."Are you sure you didn't zap me with your raygun and erase my memory for a few seconds?"

The Trom Girl replied calmly, "No. You are still reacting to moves as they happen. You need to look ahead four or five moves and position your pieces accordingly."

Studying her small magnetic chess set, Unicorn launched into another tirade. "I don't like the way your bishops work together. They're creepy. The two of them have got all the good openings blocked off, As soon as I learn some more strategy, I'll take out both bishops at the start of the game."

"You are both intelligent and adaptable, Ashley, but you lack patience. Your game will improve if you slow down and consider what your opponent is planning."

The little blonde pouted in a way that had melted many hearts. Ashley Whitaker had always been pretty and at twenty-two, she was gorgeous enough that people often forgot what they were doing as she passed by. She raised a piece, changed her mind and moved a pawn forward to block an advance.

"See, I know you're smarter than me," she said. "The Trom raised you to be a super-genius who could win a different Nobel Prize every year. But what I have is creativity! There's no way to predict what I'm going to next."

"You do have a strong random factor in your psychological makeup," the Trom Girl agreed. She clicked the chin bar on her helmet closed and painstakingly replaced the wire-thin tools to their case. Megan Salenger was a few years older than Ashley, a little heavier in build and a few inches taller. Her untidy short hair was black and she had dark inquisitive eyes to complete the contrast between the two of them.

Leaning over, Megan didn't even glance at the board before moving her queen down to B3. "That's mate. Your defenses are getting stronger."

Unicorn reacted as if she had been punched hard in the chest. "I am stricken, absolutely stricken. My life is ruined. I will have to wear a bag over my head so other players don't laugh at me."

Before Megan could reply, their captain appeared in the doorway of the office. "Glad to see you two are still here. I know this is your free day, Megan."

"Oh, no! She's got a clipboard..." said Unicorn. "It's not my turn to scrub out the refrigerator AGAIN?"

"Relax," Sable said as she crossed over behind her desk and settled into her swivel chair. "I've got a report from one of our observers of possible Midnight War activity. It might turn out to be nothing, most of our investigations do. But it might also turn out to be anything from Karl Eldritch to Red Sect to a pack of Skinwalkers."

"Better than putting on those yellow rubber gloves and kneeling in front of the refrigerator all day," Ashley grumbled. "Let me run up to my room and get my gear."

With the effortless agility of youth and regular exercise, she leaped up and dove out of the room. A second later, they heard her light footfalls racing up the stairs.

Sable tapped the small chess set and smiled. "She's been on this kick for a month now."

"Ashley tends to move from one hobby to another as soon as she feels a minimal competency."

"OH, yes. I remember her harmonica phase. Are you ready to go?"

Megan stood up, tucking her helmet under one arm. She was wearing her version of the KDF field suit, all black... boots, snug pants and a waist-length jacket. "My gravity shield is stowed in my Jeep, but my superiors have mentioned I should be more discreet about its use when I might be seen."

The Unicorn galloped back into the office and almost skidded to a stop. Instead of her usual all white outfit, she seemed to be going through a baby blue phase.. sneakers, jeans, T-shirt and denim jacket all that color with darker blue trim on collars and cuffs.

In her hands was a cylindrical white leather sheath three feet long, tapering to a point at one end. "Armor under my clothes, dart gun in the small of my back, emergency Kitkat bars in my jacket pocket. I'm bringing my Unicorn horn. If we meet any critters with gralic powers, I can shut them down. How about our briefing, captain?"

"Not much to go on, to be honest. One of our oldest observers reports a sighting in Jamaica.."

"Jamaica! We're going to Jamaica!"

"Jamaica, Queens. Calm down, Ashley. It's Bennett Ferguson, he was one of Jeremy's first observers and over the years he's been reliable. This time he says he saw a man standing by the rear wall of a pharmacy. As he watched, the man apparently melted through the wall and was gone from sight. A few minutes later, the man appeared again and ran off with a plastic shopping bag in one hand."

Megan had been listening intently and now she interrupted. "This would be the All-Stop Pharmacy at 446 Lincoln Avenue, wouldn't it? The staff is being questioned by the police because a large quantity of restricted painkillers is missing with no sign of a break-in. Fentanyl and Percocet were mentioned."

"Hey, wait," said Unicorn, "I didn't hear about this on the news."

"I skim a daily summary of police reports in the metropolitan area."

Unicorn pointed an accusatory finger. "Science Nerd, some day you are going to get in big trouble hacking into Pentagon and FBI and NYPD files the way you do."

Disregarding Ashley for the moment, Sable continued, "That's really all we have right now, I'm afraid.I want you two to go see Ferguson and get more details, look around the scene, ask some questions, the usual procedure."

Already moving for the door, Ashley was dangling her Unicorn horn by one strap. "On the job, captain! This guy will find me and Megan are a wall he can't walk through.

( the rest of the story )

"King Homir's Treasure House"

4/19-4/21/1987

I.

Wearing Melgar clothes, Jeremy Bane is in Androval on the trail of the ancient Alchemist Melchius. By chance, he spots the renegade Avathor at a low tavern. Peering in through an open window befor entering, Bane discovers Avathor is meeting with high mountain bandit chiefs,and he finds Human adventurerss Ruffian spying there as well (and also posing as a Melgar, although she is Myrrwhan). Ruffian is tall, five feet seven and athletic. She has darkened her distinctive auburn hair to dark bown to fit in better. Over the previous five years, Ruffian has built a reputation as a bold and inventive thief with acrobatic skills

Identifying Avathor's fmous golden horse hitched to a fence by the tavern, Bane plants one of his tracking discs under the saddle. Then he enters, slugs some of the bandits and breaks up the conference. Avathor runs outside. While getting Ruffian ready to flee, Bane is knocked out by Avathor's Korean mercenary Bronze Ronin. This is Mikage Tstsuo, top street fighter with a healing factor. Bane recovers in time to follow the tracking signal to a shack a few miles away where he finds Ruffian beaten, stripped and bound, with the Melgar symbol for "dog" in shallow cuts across her body. He smashes Avathor's men before they can kill her and takes her to safety.

Ruffian explains to Bane about Avathor's plan to rob King Holmir's Treasure House. This is a single vast chamber cut into the side of a sheer mountain wall, with no known entrances or exits other than the massive woodem gate. staffed with a permanent garrison, it holds a vast treasure of gold, silver and gems. Holmir also is known to store valuable statues, paintings and chronicles there for safekeeping.

Following the tracer disc he planted inside the Melgar's saddle, Bane trails Avathor to a remote part of Androval not far from the Royal Treasure House, bringing along the bruised but furious Ruffian, who vows to assassinate Avathor. Both being extremely skilled in stealth, Bane and Ruffian sneak into Avathor's camp in the mountains and overhear him conferring with Dolomir, an agent of Melchius. Avathor is pleased with the compressed air bomb filled with Alchemical poison gas potent enough to kill an army. Modern technology will function perfectly well in Androval but it is taboo culturally and legally.

With Ruffian beside him, Bane overhears Avathor explain his plan. A labor gang of Trolls under Melgar supervision will be headed to the mines with their wagons to fill with ore. This is a common sight in the mountains. Avathor explains the Trolls will wheel away as much gold and silver as they can. But the two are discovered and Bronze Ronin kills Ruffian with his lethal fists. Avathor intervenes, using his electrical powers to stun Bane into helplessness. Bane is captured and strapped to a table with a sharp-edged cabre poised near his neck. A Gralic Leech, Avathor wants to siphon off Bane's speed for his own but has to wait a few days because his body is already holding as many powers as it can for one time.

While Bronze Ronin is busy elsewhere, Bane escapes his cell and witnesses Avathor's second meeting with the Melgar bandit chiefs, who are supplying horsemen to accompany the Trolls for the assault. Avathor plans to breach Treasure House by releasing a deadly Alchemical serum into the atmosphere, killing the personnel. This serum will be sprayed from the air by Melgar mercenary Beldor and her five Air Maidens riding rare winged horses from Okali. Then the Trolls will fill their wagons with as much treasure as will fit and hurry to their tunnels in the mountains.

The bandits scorn Avathor's scheme, particularly one named Khuthir who demands to be paid immediately so he can leave. Avathor admits that since the caravan of Trolls is already on its way, he doesn't need the chiefs anymore. Stepping into an airtight cell, he gasses them to death with an Alchemical potion and rants to himself that he will do the same to any who might tell his tale.. Bane is captured by Beldor and taken back into custody. Bane confronts Avathor over the logistical implausibility of moving tons of gold, silver and gems. The Trolls will only be able to carry off a fraction of the treasure. As Avathor laughs and says he has a more subtle agenda, Bane deduces from the presence of the minion that Avathor has been offered a deadly gas bomb by Melchius the Alchemist to detonate inside the vault and poison the gold for decades. Avathor doesn't care much for claiming the treasure, he wants revenge on King Holmir.

III.

Again trying to escape, Bane engages in a fight with Beldor that ends with them both battered and willing to talk. He tells her that Avathor killed the Melgar bandits and will soon have no use for her. The next day, on the rare winged horses, Beldor's maidens spray the gas over Treasure House, seemingly killing the guards and workers. The garrison is so surprised and fascinated by the flying horses that no arrows are loosed until it is too late. The heavier than air gas quickly forms an ankle-high mist that can be walked through safely for short periods of time. Wheeling overhead, the Air Maidens fly back in the directon from which they had come... except for Beldor, who suddenly breaks away and speeds off to the South.

Avathor's Troll press gang breaks through the outer gates of Treasure House and beats down the door to the inner vault as Avathor arrives with the poison gas bomb. In the vault, Melchius's henchman Dolomir, ties Bane down across the bomb with ropes. This gives Avathor great glee and he can't stop laughing. The Trolls and the bandits loot with frantic haste, loading crates of gold and silver coins, leather bags of jewels and some heirloom weapons on to the carts while also filling their pockets.

"Androval will fall!" gloats Avathor to the stoic Bane. "With no gold or silver that can be handled, with nothing to back it up, Androval's money will be worthless, the economy will collapse and this realm will collapse into raw panic. Holmir will be deposed as he deserves to... and a new, stronger man will claim the throne." Bane says nothing and Avathor leaves him. Bronze Ronin is ordered to remain behind until the last minute to be sure the well-known tricky Bane doesn't get loose somehow.

Unknown to Avathor, Bane's talk with Beldor convinced her to change sides. She diluted the Alchemical solution to harmless levels. So the Alchemical serum has knocked all the Melgarin soldiers out and left them sick but still alive. Avathor locks the inner vault leaving Bane and Bronze Ronin trapped inside. The bomb itself is still fatal and ready to blow.

IV.

As the Troll wagons roll away as quickly as they can manage, Avathor withdraws to a hilltop to observe from a safe distance. Bane frees himself with the razor blades hidden in his cuffs, but Bronze Ronin tackles him before he can stop the bomb. Bane quickly manages to defeat Bronze Ronin then forces the lock off the serum bomb and figures out how to disarm it. He sits down with a bad case of the shakes after realizing how close he came to being killed.

A deep rumbling outside draws him to the ruined gate. One hundred Melgar calvary on their great war horses thunder by in pursuit of the fleeing Trolls. Bane realizes that the fighting will be brief and merciless. Unarmed, facing mounted Melgarin with lances and sabres, even the powerful Trolls will have no chance. Some of the riders stay to safeguafrd the Treasure House. Their captain dismounts. He and Bane fill each other in on the situation, and the captain thanks Bane for saving Androval from ruin and a coup. Beldar is a prisoner at the nearby lancer fort. She had landed her winged horse and informed the officers in charge of the ongoing attack at Treasure House, so her life is safe for the moment.

For her service in preventing all the deaths, Beldor will be pardoned all her crimes by the King. Bane is told he will be the first non-Melgar to be awarded the Green Star medal for heroism. The poison gas bomb is hauled along until a way can be found to safely destroy it. Both are escorted by a squad of the calvary to the Royal Court for audience with the King, but Avathor and his surviving fighters attack the group. In the struggle, Avathor's sword chops open a seal on the gas tank and sprays Avathor with the gas. Bane and Beldor get back safely from the deadly fumes but the Gralic Leech withers into a mere mummy.

12/31/2022

"The Chill Within"

9/29/1995

I.

The sword missed him by a good three inches and sank deeply into the wooden beam holding up the roof of the porch. For that next second, the Melgar warrior tugged, trying to get his weapon free and the Dire Wolf moved in with a short hooking punch that almost broke the man's jaw. Tough as Melgarin were, that blow dazed the man and his defenses dropped. Bane drew his fist back to his own armpit and drove it forward with a savage impact that forced the air from the Melgar's lungs with a whoosh. The warrior sagged to a seated position and desperately tried to catch his breath.

Jeremy Bane seized the hilt of the straight sword and yanked it loose from where it had been wedged into the support beam. He glanced around, no one else was in sight. This small summer cottage sat at the end of a dirt driveway and the main road could not be seen through all the bushes and trees. Good. He noticed fresh tire tracks in the dirt next to the cottage, but no sign of the vehicle itself.

The Melgar was recovering, trying to get to his feet. Bane threw the sword far out into the bushes and turned to face the warrior with bare hands. As the Melgar rose, the Dire Wolf whirled on one foot and blasted a reverse crescent kick with the other leg that smacked his heel against the warrior's cheek with a loud crack. The man sagged again and ended sitting up on the porch with his head down.

"Stay put," the Dire Wolf snapped. ( Read more... )

"The League of Predators"

5/3/2000

I.

The doorbell woke her when it rang. From where she had been napping on the couch in the office, Unicorn bounced up so quickly that she almost fell. For an instant, she was not clear on where she was or what she was supposed to be doing. In fact, her sleep-muddled mind had some vague idea that she was going to be late for school again. Then she snapped out of it. The bell rang again. Ashley Whitaker tugged down her white pullover where it had ridden up, wiped at her eyes and rushed to the hall to get to the front door. She was still so tired. This erratic training schedule was killing her, she thought.

The little platinum blonde wished she could take a second to press an ice pack over her burning eyes. That was a trick that had helped her go without sleep many times. Sliding open a wooden panel slightly above her own face level, she revealed a monitor screen and a bank of buttons. She pressed one and mumbled, "Hold on, I'll be right with you."

A familiar voice answered, "Hiya, Unicorn. No rush." It was the unmistakably hoarse smoker's voice of Inspector Harold Klein. As the monitor screen lit up, she clicked by mistake the controls that opened both the street door and the inner door. That was her first fatal mistake. The foyer was revealed as the inner door swung open, showing the short stocky form standing there in the ancient white raincoat. She knew that weathered face with its noticeable glass eye, crinkly greying hair and wry crooked smile.

"Come on in," she said and that was the second mistake that would bring her to the edge of death. No matter who was out there, even Bane himself, the proper procedure demanded she wait until the Trom sensors produced a positive ID of anyone trying to enter the building. She herself had often had to wait to be cleared even after only stepping outside for a minute.

Ashley managed a smile at Klein. The cranky old grouch. "What are you waiting for?" she said, stifling a yawn with the back of one tiny hand. "I said you can come in." Then she glanced up at the monitor screen next to her and her heart missed a beat. The image on the monitor wasn't Klein. It showed a tall haggard man with a prominent nose and deepsunk shadowed eyes. He was wearing a formal dress suit that had seen better days. Unicorn recognized him from the files she had studied that very day.

"Indigo!" she yelped, jabbing for the button that would close the inner door but reacting far too late. The Illusionist raised a massive Colt .45 automatic and snapped off three shots that were deafening indoors. One bullet slammed into her stomach, the next two struck her high on the chest and Ashley was flung back off her feet to roll into the open doorway of the room where she had napping a minute earlier. She remained sprawled in an awkward pose with one arm bent under her.

Behind Indigo, the other four members of the League of Predators were revealed as the illusion of concealment faded. Avathor, Repel, Duffy the Sumo, and Fatal Wasp. They closed the outer door behind them and stepped inside the front hall, but only with some difficulty. Their feet seemed to drag until they were well inside, nearly at the base of the wide staircase leading up to the second floor. Ahead of them was a wide staircase with carved mahogany bannisters, leading up to the second floor. Both walls of the front hall were lined with bookcases broken by unmarked and closed doors.

"That's funny," Repel grumbled. He looked athletic and fit enough, with a square sullen face under short black hair. "It was like walking through quicksand. I had a helluva time for a second there."

Avathor laughed. He was a dramatic figure whose darkly bronzed skin which contrasted vividly with the white crewcut and pale blue eyes. He wore an outfit of riding boots, corduroy breeches and tan flannel shirt. The Gralic Leech hurried to explain, "That fool girl gave us permission to enter. Otherwise, this building has a potent mystic defense... I suspect the Yellow Shield might be under the floor."

"Right, whatever you say," Repel scoffed. "Listen, better make sure blondie there snuffed it before we go any further."

The two remaining members of the gang could hardly have looked less alike. Despite his name, Stuart Duffy seemed to be a full Japanese, towering six feet eleven inches tall and weighing well over four hundred and forty pounds, while Holly Kirschner barely reached four feet nine and would struggle to make eighty pounds. Yet they were dressed very much alike in boots, dark pants and long-sleeved work shirts tailored for them because their extreme sizes made it impossible to buy clothes that would even begin to fit. The Sumo smiled down at the Fatal Wasp, who glared back at him with green eyes as venomous as her codename.

"He's right, Indigo," Avathor ordered. "Finish her. One more bullet but in the back of the skull."

"No, no, she took three slugs in the torso. I don't want to look at her head blownn open," Indigo protested.

The Gralic Leech took a menacing step toward the Illusionist. "You left your courage behind you when you got out of prison," he said slowly. "Maybe you aren't strong enough to be on this team."

"I had a successful career all over Europe for decades," Indigo snapped. "You should only last as long."

Before the confrontation could go any further, the door of a small elevator to their right opened with a DING! and a flash of the light bar. Naturally, the League of Predators swung as one to see who or what might be emerging. With perfect timing, Sheng Mo-Yuan hurtled down the staircase and dove headlong into them.

( the rest of the story )

"Sceptre"

7/24/-7/25/2000

I.

Unicorn was dressed all in white as usual... hiking boots, thick cotton socks,snug shorts and a white T-shirt with a leather vest over it. The vest had six deep pockets holding gadgets, with two more on the inside, and the brown leather belt around her narrow waist held further pouches full of equipment as well as one of the anesthetic dart guns in a flap holster. Although she wore the silk-thin Trom armor under her clothes, she had retracted it up to her crotch and up to her elbows to leave her legs and forearms bare.

Slung in across her back was the white leather cylindrical sheath which held her talisman which gave her both her powers and her code name... the Unicorn horn.

As Argent saw her flash a brilliant smile at him when she hopped over a fallen log in their way, he had to admit she was a gorgeous young woman. The slender but curvy little body, the perfect chiseled face with long platinum-blonde hair and crystal blue eyes now hidden behind polarized aviator's gunglasses... she looked like she should be posing for magazine covers. But, he also realized, despite all that she could be such an intense pain in the neck to work with. The girl was just impossible.

In contrast to his partner, the Chujiran was wearing the full KDF field suit. All black. The boots, tough pants and waist-length jacket with its second inner layer of the Trom armor, and with the visored helmet on, gave him more protection than ceramic plate and Kevlar would have but weighed no more than regular clothing would have. He was comfortable enough even in the near-tropical heat because the humidity was low and the field suit fabric regulated his body temperature to optimal. He had two canteens on his belt.

"I can't imagine why Jeremy doesn't make you wear a field suit like the rest of us," he grumbled as he caught up with her. "I swear, he lets you break more rules than the rest of us combined."

"Aw, every teacher has a pet," Ashley chuckled. "Say Sheng, did I tell I was talking to my friend Gwen, you remember, she works at her father's Red Pepper restaurant on Canal Street? Anyway, I asked her about Chujir. She said some Chinese believe it's a sort of mythical homeland of the Han people. Like a Garden of Eden sort of fable."

"So I've heard," Argent said as he stepped up next to her. "If they only knew how real Chujir is.I don't think there are more than three of us in the world at any time. Wait. Sshh." He held up a hand in warning as the sound of feet tromping came nearer. Ahead of them, the trail bent sharply and a squad of Melgar soldiers marched into view.

Sheng shifted the focus of gralic energy in his body to enhanced speed. His reflexes and voluntary movements doubled in speed instantly and he was hurtling forward before the Melgarin could react to his sudden appearance. The nearest one, a grizzled veteran with long mustaches down either side of his mouth, had barely begun to swing his long-handled axe up before Argent exploded a one-two-three combination of punches that threw the man back hard against the comrades behind him. Sheng hopped over all three as they got tangled and confused. He found himself between two brawny Melgarin both taller and heavier than he was, but at only five feet five, the Chujiran adventurer was used to this. He blasted a side kick into the nearer soldier's stomach, drew that leg back and shot out a reverse roundhouse that slewed the other man's jaw askew with a crunching noise.

Although his training in Kumundu under Teacher Chael was still that of a novice, back in Chujir he had been studying under Tang Ming for the past two years. She had gotten him in condition and taught him basic moves. His power of increasing his strength or speed was at this point his greatest asset. One of the Melgar soldiers managed a wide slash with a three-foot-sword but Sheng leaped aside quite out reach, then dove in again to slam a backfist to the cheek that made his opponent sway drunkenly. Within a few seconds, half of the Melgarin were dazed or dumbfounded and only beginning to get their bearings.

Off to one side, Ashley Whitaker held the long-barreled air pistol and squeezed off one silent shot after another. She was the best in marksmanship of the new team. Since childhood, Ashley had been strenuously raised by her mother to take over as the second Unicorn. Where she spotted bare skin, she sent an anesthetic dart with unerring aim even though her targets were moving. The men who were hit slapped at the unexpected stinging but then dropped unconscious only a few seconds later.

The soldier moving toward her had a high collar and long sleeves on his mail shirt, as well as a tough leather cowl. There was not much of an opening left uncovered to aim for. Not knowing she was making what her mother called 'that stupid face,' Ashley squinted one eye, stuck her tongue out and sent a dart right into the bulbous tip of the Melgar's prominent nose. The crosseyed expression at he tried to focus on the dart made her grin wickedly.

A Melgar with a bright yellow beard had managed to seize Argent from behind in a fierce bear hug. The Chujiran struggled for an instant before shifting his focus to increased strength. The bigger man found he was suddenly trying to hold a wriggling opponent who was stronger than he was, who inexorably forced his arms apart and broke free. Sheng seized the front of the bearded man's mail shirt and yanked him into an elbow strike to the face.

At this point, the enemies who were not unconscious were too stunned or pained to be any immediate threat but they would be shaking it off in a minute. Ashley straightened up, calculating that she still had five darts in her clip, as a loud buzzing sounded right behind her. She whirled right into a small hard fist that connected to her chin with forty miles per hour behind it. Unicorn yelped and fell over backwards into the underbrush, rolling to jump back up on her feet. She saw Fatal Wasp looping around and diving straight at her.

Tiny and lean at several inches under five feet tall, Holly Kirschner was dressed all in dark green with yellow trim... low slippers, tights and a long-sleeved pullover. The long black hair swung free. At her back, Wasp's translucent wings blurred into near invisibility as she hovered at face level. Ashley had kept a grin on her dart gun and, as she got her footing, she swung the weapon up into position.

"Oh no, not you again!" she blurted out before the Fatal Wasp whirled around in mid-air and kicked her high on one cheek. Unicorn fell down hard with lights flashing in her vision and her hearing obscured. She did not catch herself but landed on one side and groaned. Seeing this, Sheng shifted back to heightened speed and rushed to snatch the Wasp out of the air in a leaping tackle. They landed on the hard dirt with his weight forcing her out flat. Even taken by surprise like that, Kirschner grabbed the wrist of the hand pinning her down and extended sharp black barbs from beneath her fingernails. Sheng howled in unexpected pain as a massive dose of venom was injected into his bloodstream. He broke away, clutching at his wounded hand and feeling that arm grow numb up to the elbow. For the moment, he was preoccupied with not passing out.

Rising up off the ground, wings beating furiously, Fatal Wasp yelled at the Melgarin. "The Master has sent me to summon you back to base! You! and You! Help those who are having trouble getting on their feet, let's go!"

Over by the bushes, Ashley got to her hands and knees, rubbing the side of her bruised face. Seeing Sheng injured only made her angrier. The little blonde unsnapped the catch on the leather sheath across her back and drew out the Horn. Its flat end was capped with ensalir to further strengthen the spell put on it by the Eldarin thousands of years ago. Holding the ancient talisman up with both hands, Ashley sang out in a clear voice, "With this Horn, I remove thy power!"

The effect was instantaneous. Fatal Wasp gasped as her wings retracted into her body through slits in her tunic and she fell to hit the ground, stumbling but staying on her feet. The sharp barbs slid back into her fingers and were gone. She was Human again.

Rising herself, gripping the Horn ready to use it as a club or a stabbing weapon, Unicorn yelled, "Be careful who you kick in the face, missy!"

Wasp's dark green eyes had narrowed to slits. "Oh, I'll do worse than that, little girl...." she hissed as she curled her hands into fists and stalked forward.

Suddenly wishing she had followed procedure for once and worn the protective field suit with its helmet. Ashley shifted the Unicorn horn in her grip and put on her brave face. "Where's a can of Raid when you need it?"

"I don't find you funny," Kirschner replied. "I ought to shut you up for good."

At that exact second, the clearing was filled by a score of Cojobe tribesmen running in from all directions, screaming as loudly as they could. The dark-skinned men in their coarse white pants and ponchos brandished knives and spears, several held swords they had taken from fallen enemies. But the Melgarin had mostly recovered and were standing with their own weapons at the ready. The next few minutes was a confused melee of shouts and agonized screams, thuds and slashing noises. Bigger, brawnier and better armed than the Cojobes, the Melgar soldiers had mail coats and helmets to give them a further edge. After the first few seconds, the skirmish turned into a slaughter as the fierce natives were cut down one after
another.

During those few minutes, when Ashley's attention was momentarily distracted by the fighting, the Wasp lunged in and seized the Unicorn horn with both hands to wrest it free and fling far out of reach into the brush. Ashley threw a decent straight punch, but before it could connect she was grabbed from behind by one of the Melgarin and lifted free of the ground. His arms around her chest cut off her breath and pinned her arms to her sides. The Wasp chose a spot on Unicorn's chin, drew her fist back past her own ear and punched the girl as hard as she possibly could. Ashley was not completely unconscious but she dropped in the Melgar's grasp and showed no signs of further resistance. Blood appeared on a split lip.

"You, Lundigar," ordered Fatal Wasp. "Bring her at once to the Master. Do not fail."

"To hear is to obey," the big Melgar grumbled as he turned and trotted off down the trail. The Wasp saw that some fighting was still going on. Almost within her reach, a Cojobe abruptly had his head lopped cleanly off by a Melgar sword whirling in a horizontal arc. She drew back from the skirmish. How had that blonde kid taken away her powers? Despite her desperate concentration, neither her wings nor her barbs would emerge. Feeling vulnerable as she had not in years, Holly Kirschner realized she was a rather petite woman standing a few feet away from murderous giants in armor who were swinging their weapons with gusto. She spun and wondered if she could retrieve that strange ivory horn she had thrown away...

A hand grasped her shoulder and swung her around to receive a brutal hooking punch to the solar plexus. The Wasp blacked out from that blow. Sheng had not been on the Tagra tea diet long enough to receive its full benefits, but his healing factor was elevated enough that he could more or less function. Still in blinding pain as the venom burned in his system and with his right arm numb, the Chujiran fighter saw that Unicorn had been carried away by a Melgar. He started after them, stumbled and caught himself. He was in no condition to pursue anyone. Reluctantly, Sheng decided the best course of action to take and he got the stunned Wasp up over one shoulder, then headed back toward his own team at the best pace he could manage. Drawing on enhanced strength to a limited extent, he heard the final thuds and yelling of the fight fade behind him.

( the rest of the story )

"The Silk Tigers"

7/12-7/17/2014

I.

It looked like there was going to be a thunderstorm at any minute as Bane pulled into the little strip mall near the northern end of Manhattan. Hot and muggy, with a sky filled by heavy black clouds, it was a July day that had people hoping for a storm to clear the air. Bane got out of his Subaru Outback near the cleared area near Snyder's Jewelers and showed his PI license to a uniformed officer before being allowed into the crime scene.

At fifty-seven, Jeremy Bane was still instantly recognizable with those grey eyes in a narrow face that had barely begun to line and which was still not jowly or any wider. He was still gaunt in the black outfit of slacks, turtleneck and sport jacket and he still moved quickly and decisively. More flecks of grey were showing in the short black hair, but anyone who had known him at twenty-one would think time had hardly passed for him.

Lt Montez resented this and frequently said so. In the dozen years he had worked unofficially with Bane, Montez had given up on trying to keep his weight down and his belly stuck out like a beachball. His hairline had retreated in defeat also, and he had eyeglasses he kept putting on and taking off as he struggled to accept their necessity.

"Hey," he said quietly. "You might be interested in this. Very neat smash and grab. Ever hear of the Silk Tigers?"

"Just a little," Bane admitted as he peered past Montez into the store. "European jewel thieves, supposed to be very good. Not really my area." He shook his head. "That's a lot of broken glass, lieutenant."

( the rest of the story )

"I Teach You the Superman"

5/28-5/30/1988

I.

Folding the artificial batlike wings of red silk over aluminum tubing against his back, Stephen Weaver dropped his legs beneath him and landed lightly next to his teammates. The Black Angel stepped closer to Bane and Sulak, keeping his voice low. "There's some weird Zhune mechanism in the back yard, all right. I didn't spot any sentries."

Watching the cottage halfway down the hill from where they stood concealed in the trees, Jeremy Bane did not answer at once. "I haven't seen any movement down there either. I hoped we would get here before Avathor returned."

The third member of the Tel Shai knights loomed up over his friends. Sulak of Androval was only an inch or two taller than his partners, but he was an imposing mass of hard-defined muscle with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. The Melgar was wearing his traditional arena uniform of Royal blue tunic and leggings with white gloves, short boots and sash around his waist. He looked like the gladiator he was. Impressive as he appeared, even that did not hint at the superhuman strength in his body... the Legacy of Malberon.

"We should simply march down there and claim the Zhune apparatus," said the big Melgar. "Avathor being here is bad enough but if Karl Eldritch should show up...!"

Bane made an angry snort. "Our biggest fear, all right. Eldritch has been searching for Zhune relics for years. Every time he locates one, there's a disaster we barely survive." The Dire Wolf was a lean, taut man in the black field suit fitted with a dozen weapons and gimmicks. His grey eyes were unsettling at best but now they were actively intimidating.

Standing next to him, Weaver had unfastened his crested helmet and lifted it off for the moment. He was an American black man with a rather friendly, open face and thoughtful eyes. A thick mustache was his attempt to draw attention away from a slightly large nose. "I've never met this Avathor, captain. As I understand it, he's a Gralic Leech."

"He was a Melgar," Sulak grumbled, "But he was disowned by our King. Now he is a renegade and outcast without honor. Avathor is a living shame to my Race."

The Dire Wolf began moving toward the edge of the hill. Behind them, the remote back road was empty at four in the morning. They hadn't seen another vehicle pass in the hour they had been here watching the cottage set halfway down the hill. To their side was a walk made of flat shale slabs set in the ground, but Bane stayed well away from it. "Sulak, I want you with me. Steve, you should get in the air again and circle around to watch us from the opposite side of the yard. If there's trouble, you're back-up."

"Got it, captain," replied the Black Angel. He lowered the helmet on again, fastened its latches and checked the 45 automatic in the flap holster at his belt. At a command electronically relayed from the muscles in his back, the artifical wings rustled open to their full eight foot span. Without crouching or seeming effort, Weaver shot silently and smoothly straight up into the night air. He was the most gifted levitator known. The secret USAF Black Angel Project had never located another person near his level. Most levitators could barely rise an inch or two off the ground. Weaver could fly.

In the open back yard, where the grass had not started to grow yet after a long winter, a raised round plate of some coppery metal had been set up. It was three feet across and had a single vertical pole rising up to end in a round knob at chest height. The plate itself was incised with intricate patterns that seemed almost like a diagram. From one side of the apparatus, two thick cables of the red metal stretched across the yard to end with a small raised stand from which an identical rod stood up.

"Careful, careful," Bane grumbled. "Stay alert. Let's not jump into this. We'll inspect this outer control first." With Sulak beside him, the Dire Wolf stood near the rod which rose by itself away from the ground plate. "This knob on top activates the mechanism, I guess...."

Swooping down to join them, Black Angel brought his wings together at his back but did not cause them to fold up yet. "Say, Jeremy, I thought only Eldritch knew how to work these Zhune gadgets?"

"He's the only one who can charge them up," Bane answered, peering at the esoteric markings on the rod but unable to make any sense of them. "Eldritch learned the secret knowledge of Zhune and so far no one else has figured it out. But once a relic is charged with the primal atomic fire, anyone can use it."

"And Avathor, of all people, has recovered this one," Weaver said. "Bad news any way you look at it."

"Wait." Sulak was digging his boots into the loose earth that they stood upon. "Is it my imagination...?"

Bane swung around sharply. It was the first time his friends had seen him with his nerves obviously on edge. "What?"

"There's something under this dirt, captain," the big Melgar said as he rubbed his toe to clear away a gleam of the coppery metal. "By the White Horse, look."

In the instant that all three Tel Shai knights were staring in horror down at the ground, at the opposite end of the yard a huge dark figure leaped up from concealment near the metal plate. Avathor's hand clamped down on the control rod and twisted the knob atop it. The night vanished in a glare of intolerable white light that no living eye could endure, there was a roaring rush like a river around them, and the three men fell to the ground as it they had been struck dead. Then everything faded to normal.

Standing on the steaming metal plate, watching his enemies drop senseless, Avathor could not restrain his laughter. The Gralic Leech was several inches over six feet high, his powerfully built body concealed in dark tunic and pants, with high riding boots. His skin was so deeply tanned as to itself resemble copper, but short-cropped blond hair lowered to a widow's-peak over blue eyes. Finally, he managed to control his laughter enough to speak.

" 'I teach you the Superman,'" he quoted in his booming voice. "'Man is something to be surpassed.' Nietzsche was foretelling ME!"

( the rest of the story )

"Castaway"

9/4/2009

I.

As far as staying overnight in holding cells went, that hadn't been bad. The other occupant had been a sleeping drunk, so Bane had been left alone. He was by nature hyper and restless, which made sitting still all night a real effort for him but eventually they came and brought him to the DA's office. His legal advisor, Taylor Worth, had been there to tell him that there was not sufficient grounds to hold him as a material witness, particularly since the killer had surrendered and was found with all manner of incriminating evidence on him. The fact that Bane had discovered the body and had been standing there studying the scene when the police arrived had been just bad luck.

In his office, the new District Attorney was watching Bane the way one would watch an unfamilar growling dog. Van Aken was not someone to inspire confidence, being a rather mousy little guy with uneven hair and an unfortunately large nose but he was good at his job. "You're free to go, Mr Bane," he said as they all got up. "But I want you to think about a few things. I know all about the famous Dire Wolf. I know my predecessor and certain higher-ups in the police administration have allowed you to skirt the law any number of times. Yes, I myself have been told that there are mysterious threats to the public only you can handle due to your alleged superior abilities."

Bane said nothing. He was unshaven and grimy, still wearing the clothes he had had on after a busy previous day. He turned his pale eyes on the DA and waited.

"I don't accept it," Van Aken said. "It sets a bad precedent. Our fine police force does not need freelance outside help. Any so-called extraordinary threats can be handled by the NYPD." His voice became gentle, almost affectionate suddenly. "I do not want to hear of you being called on as a vigilante again. Is that clear?"

"Got it," said Bane. Taylor Worth took his arm and led him from the office. They went down a busy hall, took the elevator to ground level and to the processing room. She reminded him strongly of her mother Donna. Although she was an inch taller and slighter in build, both had long inquisitive faces, dark reddish hair and green eyes. Taylor worked as a junior partner for her mother's law firm and had come to escort him from police headquarters many number of times before. At the ancient, chipped desk behind a metal link barrier that slid open, Bane inspected his belongings and signed for them. The only items he was really concerned about were the two silver-bladed daggers he habitually wore strapped to his forearms. He inspected them suspiciously for damage.

"No one touched them," said the seriously hairy officer behind the desk. "Believe me, Mr Dire Wolf, everybody knows about your babies there and they were left alone. Sign here. And here. Initials here. All right, until next time."

Bane took the plastic shopping bag and thick manila envelope and began stowing the items about his person. Watch, keys, phone, wallet. Money in a clear bag with the amount written on it in marker. It wasn't until they were outside police headquarters and on the street that Bane stopped to wriggle out of his jacket and tug up the sleeves of his black turtleneck. Not caring who saw him, the Dire Wolf fastened the straps to his forearms and checked that the daggers slid out easily when he pulled his sleeves back down. Putting the jacket back on, he turned to see Taylor Worth smirking happily at him.

"Not feeling naked anymore?" she asked. "Good to see you again, Jeremy. I'll be sending you the bill from our firm."

Bane gave her the faintest of smiles. "Thanks, Taylor. And say thank you for me to your mother. She has been bailing me out of trouble since before you were born."

Taylor started to walk alongside him, crossing 23rd Street. She had a satchel over one shoulder that held her laptop and papers, and her phone started to beep but she ignored it until it went to voicemail. "She's told me unbelievable stories. Before she met my father, when she was with Michael Hawk. I always tell her she's making it up in her old age."

"No. No, I am sure she has not told you half of what went on in those days. These are quieter times. Is that your car?"

"The Prius? Yes. Can I give you a lift uptown, Jeremy?"

"No thanks, I feel like walking. Thanks again. I'll be seeing you."

Chirping her car door open, Taylor Worth chuckled. "I'm sure you will. Keep some bail money available."

Bane watched her pull out and drive away. After a second, he turned and began heading uptown. He was thinking about the DA's warning and the way the tone of voice had been almost friendly. It was as if the words were contradicted by the tone. It was odd. He wondered if Van Aken had been trying to tell him to continue his unofficial troubleshooting but just keep it discreet, so he wouldn't have to hear about it. Just as well, because Bane had no intention of ever changing his ways.

Heading north, walking quickly because it was his nature to walk as fast as the average person could run, Bane reached 47th Street a little after ten a.m. He swung right, crossed over to Third Avenue and stepped up to the stoop of his apartment building. Most of the time, Mrs Choi was sitting by the window looking out and she was there today. Bane gave her a wave and she returned it with a cheery grin. For the most part, she knew which tenants had which visitors and her experiences in the old country had left her watchful for suspicious strangers. If there had been any shady characters asking questions or trying to get in, she would have let Bane know.

He went up the flight of worn steps to the second floor, punched in the security code in the little box he had installed by the door and entered his apartment. It seemed odd to people that Jeremy Bane was in fact wealthy but lived so modestly. If he had wanted to, he could have bought the entire building and remodeled it. But he did not have the instincts of luxury, it just did not appeal to him. Crossing to his bedroom, he went into the small bathroom that had been installed and threw his stale clothes in the hamper, lathered up and took the razor with him in the stall. He took a hot shower tnen switched to cold at the end. Toweling dry, Bane pulled fresh clothes from a dresser in his bedroom that were exactly the same as what he had been wearing. Black dress slacks and a long-sleeved black turtleneck, with another of the three identical sport jackets, always all black. Now he was coming back to life.

In the living room, he turned on his messages and listened to them as he dug through the waist-high refrigerator. Four eggs, some cheddar, maybe that piece of ham. He dragged down the heavy cast iron frying pan from its hook on the wall and started an omelet while listening to his messages. As the omelet cooked, he poured cranberry juice into a huge tumbler and diluted it with water, then drained it in a gulp.

The messages were the usual updates and reports from colleagues. Bane dished the omelet onto a plate and gave it a sour look. It had come out more like scrambled eggs. The Dire Wolf devoured it and felt he could have downed another one if he had more eggs. Cleaning the frying pan and plate, Bane reminisced a little about Donna Worth. After the death of Michael Hawk, she had decided not to let her degree go to waste and eventually started her own law firm. In time, she had met someone new and settled down to have two daughters. The older one, Taylor, was the legal assistant who had come to help him out this morning.

He suddenly realized he didn't know what had happened to Donna's other daughter and decided to ask about her the next time they talked. It was all so long ago. Mike had died in what, 1983? In the Snake War that broke their hidden empire. Taylor looked to be in her mid-twenties. Donna could easily be a grandmother by now, which was a funny image....

Drying his hands, Bane was still thinking about Van Aken's warning. it annoyed him a little to be asked to risk his neck and go fight some dangerous psycho and then be told later to stop doing it. Damn. If he was caught in incriminating circumstances and up on charges, the NYPD would not back him up. He would take the rap. Maybe he should start demanding some sort of immunity before rushing out to wrestle with monsters and madmen.

The Dire Wolf paused to glance around the apartment. Everything was turned off and put away. He went out into the hall, the alarms turning on automatically as he closed the door. Passing Mrs Choi as he stepped outside, he asked her if she wanted anything and she said no. Then he headed south. His office was three blocks away on the same avenue. As it had turned out, he had found the office first and then turned up the apartment as close as he could get.

It was a fine day, breezy and cool. Bane thought he would check his messages again and see if there was a case in them he could start, something weird and mysterious. Little more than a mile away, a man fell to the sidewalk and broke into frozen pieces.

( the rest of the story )