dochermes | Entries tagged with indigo

CORONET III: Lightning's Only Happy When It Strikes

6/2022

I.

Five armed guards escorted Josef Jubilec from the lobby into the elevator and then out to a hallway on the fifty-first and top floor of the office building at 156 West 82nd Street. The men wore black slacks and light blue shirts with the logo CRAMER SECURITY over the left breast pocket, and each carried a .45 Colt revolver in a holster on a separate Sam Browne belt. The guards were all burly, intimidating men but even they seemed uneasy around one of the dreaded Blind Archers.

Josef was used to this reaction and had come to expect it. He wore a dark brown business suit of conservative cut, complete with a tan shirt and brown tie and co-ordinated vest. A lifetime spent drawing longbows had given him a massive chest and brawny arms which the suit could not conceal. Short sandy blond hair topped a bony face with bleak, dark blue eyes which gave away nothing of what he thought. The Blind Archers were raised from infancy to keep poker faces no matter what. Assassins were wise to keep their intentions secret.

They waited for a few seconds before an unmarked green metal door buzzed. One of the guards held the door open for Josef, who passed through without comment into a bare cubicle of white tile. Only a massive steel door broke the gleaming walls. None of the guards entered the cubicle, they all stepped back as the outer door closed and locked with a decisive click.

The Blind Archer stood motionless, patient as a born hunter. He could not spot any of the cameras that he knew must be scrutinizing him at that moment. Then the inner door opened silently and a huge bruiser in one of the security uniforms peered out at him. At a gesture from the guard, Josef squeezed past him into an old-fashioned office with many bookshelves, deep plush carpeting and substantial easy chairs. From behind a paper-strewn desk, an old man half rose politely and gestured for him to be seated.

Although the Alchemist looked to be in his well-preserved late sixties, closer study showed the thin dry skin of the face was covered with a maze of fine wrinkles. The receding snowy hair was still thick, even the bushy eyebrows were solid white, lowering over shrewd blue eyes. That tailored suit fit the wiry body perfectly. "Mr Jubilec. Knights of your Order of Tel Shai are not known for paying social calls on members of my community. You have some business proposition, perhaps?"

"I am here to offer information you should find useful," Josef replied. He had from his teen years been able to put any accent he wanted into his voice, and now he slightly mimicked a Sicilian tinge. "But first, understand I do not subscribe to the cliche about the enemy of my enemy being my friend."

"As world wars have shown, even bitter enemies can form alliances of convenience," the old man immediately responded. "Temporary alliances, of course."

"Exactly. There is no misunderstanding between us. Let me mention that one hundred and thirty miles north of where we sit are the Catskill Mountains. There, the Spinner of Webs is indeed spinning her webs and thinks she is secure..."

( 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 )

"CORONET I: Falling Into the Sky"

6/22/2022

I.

Two uniformed officers were waiting on the scene when the cherry-red Jeep Cherokee pulled up to a stop at the farther edge of the parking lot. Yellow warning tape formed an open rectangle ten feet on its longer sides but the body it had surrounded had already been taken away. Cars going by on the side street slowed slightly as drivers caught sight of the cops and the tape, but there was nothing visible to keep their attention. On a muggy overcast day where a thunderstorm seemed imminent, people were focused mostly on getting home.

Two wildly mismatched men climbed out of the Jeep. Straightening up from behind the wheel, Archie McAllister was a massive bearlike figure in rough work boots, trousers and red flannel shirt with the cuffs rolled up. Six inches shorter and a hundred pounds lighter was Timothy Limbo. In his biker boots, well-worn jeans and black leather jacket over a plain white T-shirt, he might as well have been wearing a uniform of sorts.

"Hi, Morrissey," Timothy called as they approached. "Thanks for calling us in on this one."

"Tim! Yeah, Detective Beckert had to go, he's juggling more than one mess right now, but he knew you'd be interested in this." The officer nodded at Archie. "Seems I recollect meeting you as well, sir."

Archie McAllister grumbled something unintelligible but polite enough sounding. Big and imposing as he was, in the round, unshaven face the gentle blue eyes belied his true nature.

"Right off the bat, one question comes to mind," Timothy began, circling the taped-off area. "This is where the body of Lionel Groeters was found, face down, arms and legs full extended, right?"

"Yep. After the forensics boys scraped up as much residue as they could, the asphalt was water blasted but that stain is gonna be there for a while," the cop volunteered.

"From what I was told on the way over, Groeters looked as if he had fallen from a minimum height of one hundred and fifty feet. Impact deformation was classic, your CSI team said. But the buildings in this clinic are only two stories high. At the most, he couldn't have fallen more than twenty feet if he had dived off a roof after a running start." Timothy scratched at the back of his neck beneath the lank yellow hair. "Hard to figure, you know?"

Archie turned slowly around, scanning the nearby buildings. "If it wasn't for the blood on the ground, I'd suggest that he fell somewhere else and was brought here after he was already dead. But that's out. You say your experts think he fell a hundred and fifty feet at the most, so he wasn't pushed out of an airplane or helicopter, you'd have a hundred witnesses."

"Puzzling, right?" asked the cop. "Sounds like some of that Midnight War craziness you guys handle." He handed a tablet to Timothy. "You realize we can not show any crime scene photos to civilians, not even KDF members who have been helping out for years and years."

With Archie looming up behind him, Timothy Limbo studied the gruesome images before handing the Ipad back. "Unofficially and off the record, denying everything, I see only one suggestive item. The victim was dressed for the office. Polished shoes, pressed slacks, neat white shirt and you can see the end of a necktie up by his shoulder. But no jacket. It may not mean anything but I've seen murder cases solved by smaller clues."

"Could be. Well, me and Tompkins are supposed to report back now. Good seeing you guys again. I know lots of men wearing a shield resent you KDF as vigilantes and loose cannons, but personally I've seen you clear up some awful atrocities. Good luck."

"Thanks again," Timothy said, watching as the officers eased out into traffic.

Archie McAllister was pacing around the taped off area, big hands jammed into his trouser pockets. "Honestly, I'm going to be completely useless on this. Megan was the genius. On all those 'Trom Girl mysteries,' I listened to her rattle off solutions and maybe once in a while I threw a punch."

"Heck, I don't claim to be nearly as smart as she was, Archie. Who is? But you've had ten years experience on those cases, so any suggestions you come up with are welcome. Besides, you're good company and I hate driving in rush hour traffic." The KDF member stared up at the sky again. "You know, I can't quite remember the details but I think Sheng fought a crook who might be connected with this, maybe a year ago. It's far fetched but worth checking out. We never found out his real name, he was known as the Flying Fool."

"That's goofy. And you think maybe he was the one who dropped that poor guy out of the sky?"

"Worse than that," Timothy said, "I think first he made Lionel Groeters fall up INTO the sky."

( the rest of the story )

"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 )

"Indigo the Illusionist"

11/21/1994

The doorbell rang. Jeremy Bane turned with one foot on the stairs and raised an eyebrow. He had been planning on a workout in the gym on the seventh floor and he had no appointments. This might be much more interesting.

Bane was a gaunt, dangerous-looking man with short black hair and intimidating pale grey eyes. He was wearing his usual uniform of black slacks and long-sleeved turtleneck, but the sport jacket had been left in his office for the moment. As the bell rang again, he strode quickly to the door and thumbed the intercom button. "I'll be there in a second," he said, and heard a familiar gruff voice reply, "Fine."

Swinging open a wooden panel set at eye level, he activated the monitor screen and saw what the street camera was sending. He studied the two people standing on the steps outside. One was a frequent visitor, a short, dark man with grizzled curly hair and a thick unlit cigar clamped in a bulldog mouth. Inspector Harold Klein. He did not recognize the other man. The Dire Wolf hit a button on the control panel that opened the outer door and said, "Come in."

The two visitors stepped into a vestibule that was just big enough to hold them and maybe one other person. There was a bench, a shelf with a ceramic lamp and some magazines, and an oil painting on the wall of Kenneth Dred himself. For twenty seconds, there was faint buzzing and humming noises as advanced Trom sensors scanned the men more thoroughly than any CAT scan or MRI. Bane saw that Klein was carrying his usual Smith & Wesson Detective Special, handcuffs, folding jackknife. The other man did not have anything resembling a weapon, analysis showed no unusual chemical signature and the yellow letters flashed ID UNCONFIRMED. So he wasn't listed in any files that the KDF had tapped into.

Bane closed the panel with a click and opened the inner door. "Morning, Inspector."

"Hiya Bane," came the reply in a real New York City accent. He kept his beige raincoat on, as he did even on the hottest days and as he had done since it had been new and white, but his companion shrugged out his heavy topcoat. Bane took the coat and hung it on the rack to the left as one faced the door.

"Got any cases on the fire?" Klein asked.

"It's been slow lately. Back in the old days, there'd be bodies all over this place."

( the rest of the story )