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"The Brotherhood of Forty Hunchbacks"
May. 16th, 2022 10:35 pm"The Brotherhood of Forty Hunchbacks"
7/22-/24/2020
I.
Lightning crashed way too closely for comfort, glaringly bright against the deep black sky. During its flash, Timothy saw a frozen diorama of distorted figures right on top of him. In the blinking afterimages left on his eyes and during the thudding roll of thunder, he was thrown
down by massive weights climbing over him. Powerful fists and feet smashed into his body where he was lying in the mud. The flexible Trom armor dispersed most of the impact but his exposed head took a vicious onslaught. The rain made everything so slippery it was hard to get a fix on the situation
With long years of Kumundu training, Timothy did not curl into a defensive ball as instinct told him. He got over onto his stomach and leaped up to get out of reach of his attackers. Then he could wheel around and fight back, first drawing the dart gun holstered at his side. The tactic didn't quite work. One boot slid in the sloppy mud and he went down on one knee again. Hands seized his lower arms and pulled them out straight, hauling him up right.
In the heavy rain, even as his vision returned after the lightning, Timothy Limbo could only make out that his attackers were solid bulky men, not tall but wide and stocky. The hands holding him were stronger than Human normal. Timothy hooked one foot behind an opponent's ankle and kicked that man's leg forward to get him off balance. As the enemy fell, his grip loosened and Timothy wrenched his arm free to immediately slammed a short hooking punch to the other one's unseen face. It was like hitting a slab of frozen beef. Something crashed against the back of Tim's head that made sparks blink behind his eyes and his knees buckled. If he fell again, he would have a hard time defending himself.
Then unexpectedly, a new figure rushed out of the darkness. Hard blows landed with the crisp decisiveness that meant perfect impact had been made. The misshapen attackers yelled and bellowed. Freed for the moment, Timothy seized a pencil flashlight from inside his leather jacket and thumbed it on.
That brilliant thread of light showed the high rounded backs of four deformed men running off into the storm. Hunchbacks, four hunchbacks. It WAS the Brotherhood Timothy swung the beam around to reveal a dramatic muscular figure in a black leather uniform. Strapped to the left forearm was a round circular shield and sheathed at the left hip was a straight sword three feet long.
The newcomer wore a silver helmet crafted to resemble a grim unsmiling skull. In a hollow voice, the man said, "We will meet again." Then he spun and raced off into the storm.
Left alone in the cold drizzle, hearing thunder roll again further away this time, Timothy Limbo gingerly touched the lump at the back of his throbbing head. Well, at least the enemy hadn't gotten inside that house where the Palimpest was thought to be hidden. He could search in there and return to Manhattan to report. But at the moment, he was giddy at the thought that the Silver Skull had returned to the Midnight War.
II.
"It's been fifteen years since the Skull has last been seen," Sable told her teammate around the long oak table. They were in the conference room on the second floor of KDF headquarters, meeting where four earlier generations of heroes had assembled. That night, only two were in attendance. "Even then, no one found out his true identity. He showed up when needed and fought hard, but then left without explanation."
"Who WAS that masked man?" Timothy quoted.
"Exactly." Sable leaned back and tilted her head quizzically. "You say he stood six feet tall?"
"Yeah. A couple inches taller than me. A little heavier." Timothy himself was a slightly built young man with a thick mop of butter-yellow that badly needed trimming. "It was hard to judge from just the glimpse I got of him, but I'd say he weighs maybe two hundred even. Not heavy in build, just athletic."
The team leader clasped her hands before her and regarded her teammate somberly. Lauren Sable Reilly had been up waiting Tim's return. She wearing Navy blue slacks and long-sleeved pullover with an open white cardigan across her shoulders. "I don't know if this is good news or not. He did help you in a tight spot, Tim."
"Well, yeah, I have to admit that's true. I didn't exactly have them begging for mercy. And the house had already been searched before they got there, there was nothing in the hidden drawer you wanted me to find."
"It's just... I'm not sure how to react to this," Sable said. "The Silver Skull is such an ancient heritage. It goes back to the Darthan Age, thirty thousand years ago. It has been passed down from one wielder to a chosen successor ever since."
"Not in an unbroken line, of course. I've been studying Midnight War lore." Timothy couldn't help reaching up to the back of his head but there was no sign of the beating he had taken earlier that night. His enhanced healing from the Tagra diet enabled that. "There have been long stretches, sometimes centuries at a time, without a Silver Skull."
"We are always so short-staffed," Timothy abruptly burst out. "Sorry for changing the subject, but we never did a find a replacement for Haley. Shouldn't Galvan or Jin be here tonight? Their kid is almost a year old by now."
"I hear you," Sable said. "But let's face it, potential Tel Shai knights are hard to find. Galvan was here yesterday, working out upstairs and cooking some mutton. There wasn't an active case underway for him. I think Jin comes on duty at eight this morning." She raised a single finger more to signal attention than admonishment. "Back to the matter at hand. One of the founding members of our KDF was a Silver Skull, Dr Larry Taper. None of us met him of course, he died in 1990. And his successor showed up a few times about five years later but he was the one who didn't reveal himself."
"Is this the same man?" Tim wondered. "Fifteen years is a long stretch for fighting Midnight War."
"No way to tell. He hasn't been reported since, oh 2012 or so. Maybe this is his successor." The leader of their team stood up. "Now for the other part of our current problem. The men who attacked you. I ran a search through KDF records and found nothing about such possible suspects. Then, while waiting for you to drive back here, I started rushing through paper records which haven't been entered yet."
"There are so many reports and memoirs and letters and such," Timothy agreed. "Rooms full of them. We could have someone working full time to scan the pages and put them into the computer files."
"I did find one suggestive phrase," said Sable. "Only a name and a date. In 1987, Jeremy fought something called the Brotherhood of Forty Hunchbacks...."
( the rest of the story )
7/22-/24/2020
I.
Lightning crashed way too closely for comfort, glaringly bright against the deep black sky. During its flash, Timothy saw a frozen diorama of distorted figures right on top of him. In the blinking afterimages left on his eyes and during the thudding roll of thunder, he was thrown
down by massive weights climbing over him. Powerful fists and feet smashed into his body where he was lying in the mud. The flexible Trom armor dispersed most of the impact but his exposed head took a vicious onslaught. The rain made everything so slippery it was hard to get a fix on the situation
With long years of Kumundu training, Timothy did not curl into a defensive ball as instinct told him. He got over onto his stomach and leaped up to get out of reach of his attackers. Then he could wheel around and fight back, first drawing the dart gun holstered at his side. The tactic didn't quite work. One boot slid in the sloppy mud and he went down on one knee again. Hands seized his lower arms and pulled them out straight, hauling him up right.
In the heavy rain, even as his vision returned after the lightning, Timothy Limbo could only make out that his attackers were solid bulky men, not tall but wide and stocky. The hands holding him were stronger than Human normal. Timothy hooked one foot behind an opponent's ankle and kicked that man's leg forward to get him off balance. As the enemy fell, his grip loosened and Timothy wrenched his arm free to immediately slammed a short hooking punch to the other one's unseen face. It was like hitting a slab of frozen beef. Something crashed against the back of Tim's head that made sparks blink behind his eyes and his knees buckled. If he fell again, he would have a hard time defending himself.
Then unexpectedly, a new figure rushed out of the darkness. Hard blows landed with the crisp decisiveness that meant perfect impact had been made. The misshapen attackers yelled and bellowed. Freed for the moment, Timothy seized a pencil flashlight from inside his leather jacket and thumbed it on.
That brilliant thread of light showed the high rounded backs of four deformed men running off into the storm. Hunchbacks, four hunchbacks. It WAS the Brotherhood Timothy swung the beam around to reveal a dramatic muscular figure in a black leather uniform. Strapped to the left forearm was a round circular shield and sheathed at the left hip was a straight sword three feet long.
The newcomer wore a silver helmet crafted to resemble a grim unsmiling skull. In a hollow voice, the man said, "We will meet again." Then he spun and raced off into the storm.
Left alone in the cold drizzle, hearing thunder roll again further away this time, Timothy Limbo gingerly touched the lump at the back of his throbbing head. Well, at least the enemy hadn't gotten inside that house where the Palimpest was thought to be hidden. He could search in there and return to Manhattan to report. But at the moment, he was giddy at the thought that the Silver Skull had returned to the Midnight War.
II.
"It's been fifteen years since the Skull has last been seen," Sable told her teammate around the long oak table. They were in the conference room on the second floor of KDF headquarters, meeting where four earlier generations of heroes had assembled. That night, only two were in attendance. "Even then, no one found out his true identity. He showed up when needed and fought hard, but then left without explanation."
"Who WAS that masked man?" Timothy quoted.
"Exactly." Sable leaned back and tilted her head quizzically. "You say he stood six feet tall?"
"Yeah. A couple inches taller than me. A little heavier." Timothy himself was a slightly built young man with a thick mop of butter-yellow that badly needed trimming. "It was hard to judge from just the glimpse I got of him, but I'd say he weighs maybe two hundred even. Not heavy in build, just athletic."
The team leader clasped her hands before her and regarded her teammate somberly. Lauren Sable Reilly had been up waiting Tim's return. She wearing Navy blue slacks and long-sleeved pullover with an open white cardigan across her shoulders. "I don't know if this is good news or not. He did help you in a tight spot, Tim."
"Well, yeah, I have to admit that's true. I didn't exactly have them begging for mercy. And the house had already been searched before they got there, there was nothing in the hidden drawer you wanted me to find."
"It's just... I'm not sure how to react to this," Sable said. "The Silver Skull is such an ancient heritage. It goes back to the Darthan Age, thirty thousand years ago. It has been passed down from one wielder to a chosen successor ever since."
"Not in an unbroken line, of course. I've been studying Midnight War lore." Timothy couldn't help reaching up to the back of his head but there was no sign of the beating he had taken earlier that night. His enhanced healing from the Tagra diet enabled that. "There have been long stretches, sometimes centuries at a time, without a Silver Skull."
"We are always so short-staffed," Timothy abruptly burst out. "Sorry for changing the subject, but we never did a find a replacement for Haley. Shouldn't Galvan or Jin be here tonight? Their kid is almost a year old by now."
"I hear you," Sable said. "But let's face it, potential Tel Shai knights are hard to find. Galvan was here yesterday, working out upstairs and cooking some mutton. There wasn't an active case underway for him. I think Jin comes on duty at eight this morning." She raised a single finger more to signal attention than admonishment. "Back to the matter at hand. One of the founding members of our KDF was a Silver Skull, Dr Larry Taper. None of us met him of course, he died in 1990. And his successor showed up a few times about five years later but he was the one who didn't reveal himself."
"Is this the same man?" Tim wondered. "Fifteen years is a long stretch for fighting Midnight War."
"No way to tell. He hasn't been reported since, oh 2012 or so. Maybe this is his successor." The leader of their team stood up. "Now for the other part of our current problem. The men who attacked you. I ran a search through KDF records and found nothing about such possible suspects. Then, while waiting for you to drive back here, I started rushing through paper records which haven't been entered yet."
"There are so many reports and memoirs and letters and such," Timothy agreed. "Rooms full of them. We could have someone working full time to scan the pages and put them into the computer files."
"I did find one suggestive phrase," said Sable. "Only a name and a date. In 1987, Jeremy fought something called the Brotherhood of Forty Hunchbacks...."
( the rest of the story )
