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"Game Recognizes Game"
Jul. 31st, 2022 04:02 am"Game Recognizes Game"
11/13/1977
I.
"Ah, the English rose in early bloom," whined a nasal voice from right behind her.
Utterly surprised, Katherine Wheatley gave a start and whirled around. Was her telepathy failing her? How had this unimposing old man gotten up close enough to touch her without her detecting his mind? And why even now was she not picking up any thoughts at all from him? It was as alarming to her as suddenly going deaf would have been.
The man's apparent age and waistline were both about sixty, but at least he was reasonably well dressed in a lightweight white summer suit with a polka-dot bow tie that had been loosely knotted. He lifted an old-fashioned straw hat off thinning whitish blond hair and leered at her in a remarkably unsavory manner. Dominating his face was a bulbous nose as round and red as a tomato. "Forgive me if I startled you, my little crocus, but I seldom spy such a fair flower from the fair islands."
Even more perplexed, Katherine could not stop from asking, "How do you know I'm English? I didn't say anything."
"It is written on your piquant little face, sweetheart. Those cornflower blue eyes like gems catching the light, long straight hair as ebon as the raven wings of night, lips that curl up at the corners as if waiting for a chance to smile..."
"Oh, fuss and bother," she interrupted. Katherine was reassured that she was still picking up stray thoughts from the all the people going up and down the sidewalk outside Bryant Park, right behind the Public Library. Nothing was wrong with her gift, her telepathy was still functional but she could not pick up anything from this strange old man at all. This had never happened to her before. She was wearing a pleated skirt with her light maroon windbreaker and it wasn't reassuring how he was studying her slender legs with an interest not entirely avuncular. "Can I help you somehow or are you only remembering what it was like to flirt with teenage girls?"
"Zooks, you wound me to my very pith," he responded, twirling his hat and tossing it up behind him to catch it with his other hand. "I do believe I am the gentleman you are waiting here to meet. My name is Josiah Vandersanden. Mr Kenneth Dred has expressed interest in purchasing a rare item in my possession." Saying that, he held up a thin cylinder two feet long that had been neatly wrapped in brown paper.
Katherine raised one eyebrow, still worried about not being able to get a glimpse into this man's mind. Since early adolescence when her gift had first manifested, she had never had her telepathy fail her before. "Ah. Sorry to be so curt. My partner should be arriving directly, Mr Vandersanden, I was supposed to meet you here in case Jeremy was delayed..."
The old reprobate's response was cut short as they both spotted a thin young man in black striding across 42nd Street as if all the moving cars had paused for him. Jeremy Bane walked faster than most people could run. When he picked up speed as now, his movements seemed slightly unreal in their quickness. He was up on the sidewalk next to them before his arrival could quite register.
Barely twenty-one but already well-known in the Midnight War, the young Dire Wolf was wearing his trademark outfit of black slacks, turtleneck and sport jacket which made him seem even more gaunt than he was. A narrow feral face and pale grey eyes under heavy black brows gave him a striking appearance. "Katherine. I got here as soon as I could. You must be the Vandersanden that we were supposed to meet?"
"Hullo, Jeremy. Yes. This is Jeremy Bane, he also works for Mr Dred and he is the one authorized to make the payment."
Vandersanden's extended palm was met with an unfriendly glare. "Let's see this blasting wand first, okay?"
"Of course, of course," the old man immediately replied. "Yet perhaps this trinket is best not glimpsed by the unwashed hordes of New Yorkers. Shall we find a table to seat ourselves?"
Along that wall of the park, two rows of booths faced each other across a paved promenade. Everything from tourist-oriented T-shirts and posters, scented candles and jewelry were available but the booths mostly hawked a wide variety of food. On this chilly dank November day, the area was not as packed as it normally was. The three of them found an unclaimed wrought iron table and dropped down into chairs designed to be uncomfortable so that people would not loiter but make way for more paying customers.
Bane was visibly reluctant to sit down. Katherine was used to the way he always tried to have a solid wall at his back, but in this case the best he could manage was to have to have the side of a booth behind him. She seated herself facing him so that she could keep an eye on anyone approaching from that direction and gave him a reassuring nod.
Watching Vandersanden place his bundle on the table, the Dire Wolf said nothing until the wrapping paper had been torn away. Revealed was a cylinder of dark coppery metal, shorter and thinner than a human forearm, with esoteric symbols etched into the surface. Capping one end was a faceted green gem.
"Crafted by those abominable Darthim on the island of Maroch itself," drawled Vandersanden. "In the hands of one who can wrest control of its magick, this wand can blow a hole through a brick wall you can poke your arm through. To be quite honest, it's rather like walking around with an unexploded bomb to carry this vile device."
Running his fingers along the rod, Bane made a satisfied sound. "Warm to the touch. What would you say the temperature is today, Katherine?"
"Forty at best, Fahrenheit that is," she said. "I do wish I had chosen a heavier jacket."
"And this talisman feels to be at body temperature. That's a sign it's genuine. All right. Mr Dred has authorized me to pay you this. Fifteen thousand dollars."
Accepting the thick business envelope, Vandersander riffled through the bills critically. "Crisp and fresh as autumn leaves underfoot. Well, young fellow, I believe we are both better off after this exchange."
"I can write a receipt if you want," Bane said, already tightening the wrapping paper up around the metal cylinder again.
"Sir! A gentleman's word is ironclad enough. A firm clasp of honest hands should suffice." Hauling himself up to his feet, Vandersanden extended his right hand, which Bane obligingly shook. Then, tipping his hat at Katherine, he waddled briskly away in the sparse crowd.
"There's a booth on the corner," Bane said. "We'll phone Mr Dred and report. But as long as we're here, we might as well grab some food."
Katherine gave a pleasant chuckle at his enthusiasm. "I swear, you have the metabolism of a hummingbird, Jeremy. If I ate as much each day as you, I believe I would weigh three hundred pounds, but certainly, I am a bit peckish. Bring me a smaller serving of whatever you are having."
"There's cheeseburgers on a grill right opposite us," Bane said as he rose. "Three for me, one for you. Keep an eye on this wand, though."
"Of course." Left for a second by herself, Katherine leaned forward curiously to stare at the end of the Darthan talisman protruding from the rewrapped package. That was curious. She picked it up, holding it closer and suddenly twisted the end counter-clockwise.
Holding a cardboard tray with their burgers, Jeremy Bane froze in mid-step. "What the hell?"
"Oh my goodness, it's a fake. Look at this. This is why it's warm!" The telepath held out her open hand and caught two D-sized batteries falling from inside the tube. "It's got wires inside that heat up."
Visibly shaken for the first time since she had met him half a year earlier, the Dire Wolf fell onto his chair. "He suckered me. And I fell for it."
Their dazed state only lasted for a second longer, because a heavyset man wearing a full-length winter coat approached them. He was holding a canvas bag the same general size at the phony talisman. "Jeremy Bane, I take it?" he asked cheerfully. "Vandersanden here, Josiah Vandersanden. I'm here to do business."
( the rest of the story )
11/13/1977
I.
"Ah, the English rose in early bloom," whined a nasal voice from right behind her.
Utterly surprised, Katherine Wheatley gave a start and whirled around. Was her telepathy failing her? How had this unimposing old man gotten up close enough to touch her without her detecting his mind? And why even now was she not picking up any thoughts at all from him? It was as alarming to her as suddenly going deaf would have been.
The man's apparent age and waistline were both about sixty, but at least he was reasonably well dressed in a lightweight white summer suit with a polka-dot bow tie that had been loosely knotted. He lifted an old-fashioned straw hat off thinning whitish blond hair and leered at her in a remarkably unsavory manner. Dominating his face was a bulbous nose as round and red as a tomato. "Forgive me if I startled you, my little crocus, but I seldom spy such a fair flower from the fair islands."
Even more perplexed, Katherine could not stop from asking, "How do you know I'm English? I didn't say anything."
"It is written on your piquant little face, sweetheart. Those cornflower blue eyes like gems catching the light, long straight hair as ebon as the raven wings of night, lips that curl up at the corners as if waiting for a chance to smile..."
"Oh, fuss and bother," she interrupted. Katherine was reassured that she was still picking up stray thoughts from the all the people going up and down the sidewalk outside Bryant Park, right behind the Public Library. Nothing was wrong with her gift, her telepathy was still functional but she could not pick up anything from this strange old man at all. This had never happened to her before. She was wearing a pleated skirt with her light maroon windbreaker and it wasn't reassuring how he was studying her slender legs with an interest not entirely avuncular. "Can I help you somehow or are you only remembering what it was like to flirt with teenage girls?"
"Zooks, you wound me to my very pith," he responded, twirling his hat and tossing it up behind him to catch it with his other hand. "I do believe I am the gentleman you are waiting here to meet. My name is Josiah Vandersanden. Mr Kenneth Dred has expressed interest in purchasing a rare item in my possession." Saying that, he held up a thin cylinder two feet long that had been neatly wrapped in brown paper.
Katherine raised one eyebrow, still worried about not being able to get a glimpse into this man's mind. Since early adolescence when her gift had first manifested, she had never had her telepathy fail her before. "Ah. Sorry to be so curt. My partner should be arriving directly, Mr Vandersanden, I was supposed to meet you here in case Jeremy was delayed..."
The old reprobate's response was cut short as they both spotted a thin young man in black striding across 42nd Street as if all the moving cars had paused for him. Jeremy Bane walked faster than most people could run. When he picked up speed as now, his movements seemed slightly unreal in their quickness. He was up on the sidewalk next to them before his arrival could quite register.
Barely twenty-one but already well-known in the Midnight War, the young Dire Wolf was wearing his trademark outfit of black slacks, turtleneck and sport jacket which made him seem even more gaunt than he was. A narrow feral face and pale grey eyes under heavy black brows gave him a striking appearance. "Katherine. I got here as soon as I could. You must be the Vandersanden that we were supposed to meet?"
"Hullo, Jeremy. Yes. This is Jeremy Bane, he also works for Mr Dred and he is the one authorized to make the payment."
Vandersanden's extended palm was met with an unfriendly glare. "Let's see this blasting wand first, okay?"
"Of course, of course," the old man immediately replied. "Yet perhaps this trinket is best not glimpsed by the unwashed hordes of New Yorkers. Shall we find a table to seat ourselves?"
Along that wall of the park, two rows of booths faced each other across a paved promenade. Everything from tourist-oriented T-shirts and posters, scented candles and jewelry were available but the booths mostly hawked a wide variety of food. On this chilly dank November day, the area was not as packed as it normally was. The three of them found an unclaimed wrought iron table and dropped down into chairs designed to be uncomfortable so that people would not loiter but make way for more paying customers.
Bane was visibly reluctant to sit down. Katherine was used to the way he always tried to have a solid wall at his back, but in this case the best he could manage was to have to have the side of a booth behind him. She seated herself facing him so that she could keep an eye on anyone approaching from that direction and gave him a reassuring nod.
Watching Vandersanden place his bundle on the table, the Dire Wolf said nothing until the wrapping paper had been torn away. Revealed was a cylinder of dark coppery metal, shorter and thinner than a human forearm, with esoteric symbols etched into the surface. Capping one end was a faceted green gem.
"Crafted by those abominable Darthim on the island of Maroch itself," drawled Vandersanden. "In the hands of one who can wrest control of its magick, this wand can blow a hole through a brick wall you can poke your arm through. To be quite honest, it's rather like walking around with an unexploded bomb to carry this vile device."
Running his fingers along the rod, Bane made a satisfied sound. "Warm to the touch. What would you say the temperature is today, Katherine?"
"Forty at best, Fahrenheit that is," she said. "I do wish I had chosen a heavier jacket."
"And this talisman feels to be at body temperature. That's a sign it's genuine. All right. Mr Dred has authorized me to pay you this. Fifteen thousand dollars."
Accepting the thick business envelope, Vandersander riffled through the bills critically. "Crisp and fresh as autumn leaves underfoot. Well, young fellow, I believe we are both better off after this exchange."
"I can write a receipt if you want," Bane said, already tightening the wrapping paper up around the metal cylinder again.
"Sir! A gentleman's word is ironclad enough. A firm clasp of honest hands should suffice." Hauling himself up to his feet, Vandersanden extended his right hand, which Bane obligingly shook. Then, tipping his hat at Katherine, he waddled briskly away in the sparse crowd.
"There's a booth on the corner," Bane said. "We'll phone Mr Dred and report. But as long as we're here, we might as well grab some food."
Katherine gave a pleasant chuckle at his enthusiasm. "I swear, you have the metabolism of a hummingbird, Jeremy. If I ate as much each day as you, I believe I would weigh three hundred pounds, but certainly, I am a bit peckish. Bring me a smaller serving of whatever you are having."
"There's cheeseburgers on a grill right opposite us," Bane said as he rose. "Three for me, one for you. Keep an eye on this wand, though."
"Of course." Left for a second by herself, Katherine leaned forward curiously to stare at the end of the Darthan talisman protruding from the rewrapped package. That was curious. She picked it up, holding it closer and suddenly twisted the end counter-clockwise.
Holding a cardboard tray with their burgers, Jeremy Bane froze in mid-step. "What the hell?"
"Oh my goodness, it's a fake. Look at this. This is why it's warm!" The telepath held out her open hand and caught two D-sized batteries falling from inside the tube. "It's got wires inside that heat up."
Visibly shaken for the first time since she had met him half a year earlier, the Dire Wolf fell onto his chair. "He suckered me. And I fell for it."
Their dazed state only lasted for a second longer, because a heavyset man wearing a full-length winter coat approached them. He was holding a canvas bag the same general size at the phony talisman. "Jeremy Bane, I take it?" he asked cheerfully. "Vandersanden here, Josiah Vandersanden. I'm here to do business."
( the rest of the story )
