“What the…?” Before I could complete that question I felt a surge of dark energy fueled by long-repressed rage and an aching hunger that threw me off balance. His offer triggered an unexpected resurgence from the residual consciousness of Ma Grendel and many of her less savory victims.
“Yeeessss…You are beginning to remember who and what you are, Master.” The creature leaned forward, bringing its cloaked head closer to loom over me, its own red eyes burning bright.
My vision blurred as I tried to regain my balance and strike at this thing with Excalibur. The sword became heavy and unwieldy though, straining my ability to keep it aloft, even with both hands grasping the hilt. Either the burden became too heavy, or the control over my hands became too weak, but the blade fell to the floor with a loud clang, dull and lifeless, no longer the glowing blade of vibrant energy that it had been not five minutes before.
“Take full control, Master. You are far too great to be ruled over by the weak spirit of a mere human. Rise up, restore yourself to your full glory!”
The creature inched ever closer as it wove the spell that seemed to be weakening my command over the darkness within my own body. I fell back against the still open door, trying every trick of Will that I had learned over the last year to regain even a modicum of control over the roiling forces of darkness and chaos that were striving with each other to take over my body.
Residual bits of Ma Grendel’s consciousness that I had sequestered far apart from each other began to coalesce back into a larger, more powerful and more willful entity as yet other remnants of other creatures began to reform themselves in order to strive for control over the newly available prize of my body.
I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the growing flames at the center of the Bane’s shadow enshrouded face, but no matter how bright those eyes became, nothing else of his face became visible.
I just barely noticed the thumping impact of my rear end hitting the ground. I had lost almost all control over the body that I was in.
The internal battle inside was now almost over, I felt Ma Grendel’s presence growing as she reabsorbed her many victims and took their power for herself. While still a mere shadow of what she had been when I had first battled her, I could tell that enough of her consciousness and her powers remained that she felt reborn, that she could regain all that was lost to her if she could only gain control over this body and sit on that foul throne.
Realizing that I could not now win against both the Bane and Ma Grendel’s resurgent shadow, I abandoned the fight over my body except for two areas. I focused instead on bringing my left hand up towards my chest. Slowly, in fits and starts, I was able to reach up and grab hold of the ring that dangled from the chain at my neck. Using the last ounce of strength I possessed, I did something I could never have before imagined doing.
“Drake,” I whispered, “I release you. Please help.”
I felt a cold, distant laugh. His voice was harsh. “So, Bones, you can’t handle a Bane? Why am I not surprised?”
I could only respond Spiritually, I no longer had control over any aspect of my body. “Drake, I can’t fight them both! I can’t let her loose again, not with this Bane helping her!”
His Spirit poured forth from the ring, overwhelming what little consciousness I still maintained as I felt myself being pushed into the ring he had just vacated.
“Now, my boy, you will experience what it is to feel completely helpless while someone else does what you are no longer capable of doing.”
Everything became dark and silent.
***
Oh, that was so painful. Bones has such a sappy writing style. Please don’t expect me to adapt to his style, I would rather present things in a more factual format. I don’t ‘feel’ things the way that poor sap did, so deal with it.
I must say though, I am very much enjoying this body of his. If he only realized how powerful he truly was, I would never have been given this opportunity to experience it.
So, you are probably wondering what happened on that ship?
Well, I will provide some details as to that soon. But I have a few more errands to run before I enlighten you folks. I have a few debts to repay.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Monday, May 07, 2007
Brother Mine...Part 2
Hearing and feeling that voice caused something deep and dark within me to stir. That part of me wanted desperately to reach out to its kindred.
I had to stop for moment and focus my Will on tamping down those vestiges of Ma Grendel that wanted so desperately to be free once again.
I knew that the Bane would be able to hear my response using the same magick that it had used to project its own voice, so I didn’t bother to yell my response. “Unless you are prepared to surrender to my blade freely, Dark Brother, there will have to be further violence. Feel free to restrain your beasts for now, if you like, but I will be disposing of them shortly in any event.”
I got moving towards the wheelhouse again, swor held in my right hand at the ready position.
“Yes, that is the human in you speaking, Little Brother, but I am looking forward to showing you who you really are. I want to awaken the Drashe’en within. You will find me waiting for you in the captain’s quarters of this miserable vessel. The Reavers shall not molest you further.”
I didn’t bother to respond, but I also didn’t trust his word, so I kept the sword out and ready as I found the door that would lead me into whatever trap this creature had laid for me…
***
As I passed through the maze of passageways and portals of the crew quarters, I witnessed the carnage of the Reavers. Blackened, rotting body parts and sticky, fly infested pools of blood lay scattered throughout, each spot marking the place where one or more crewmembers had met their untimely deaths. For once, I was glad that I lacked the ability to smell. I could only imagine the stench of this place.
My ‘brother’ must have instructed his servants to stay away, because I only their shuffling steps and their garbled moans as they fled before me. Excalibur continued to glow and hum in my hand, it seemed as eager as I was to rid this ship of these pests.
I could feel the presence of the Bane as I moved deeper into the ship. That feeling manifested as a sort of cold tingling sensation that grew colder and stronger the closer I seemed to get to it. As that sensation grew stronger, the darks whispers within me clamored all the more to be heard.
“We hunger!”
“Feed us!”
“Let us answer the Call!”
Ignoring them, I came to one last door. It was closed, but I knew that the Bane waited on the other side. The cold was so intense, that I shivered out of instinct, though it did no good. I had no metabolism to jump start.
I reached out to turn the handle of the door, only to see the knob shift seemingly of its own accord. I resisted the urge to shift into Spirit Sight as the door opened, remembering how the Doppelganger on South Beach had blasted me with some sort of spell that had blinded me. I didn’t want to take that chance with this thing.
The room beyond the door was lit only by the pale sunlight that found a way to trickle through the porthole of a window. It may once have been a finely furnished room, but was now a disaster zone of mangled metal, smeared blood, and broken wood. In the corner farthest from the window, my nemesis sat waiting for me, his towering form seated on a makeshift throne made up of bloated, human corpses that had somehow been molded and twisted into shape. Across his knees lay the staff that I had seen in the blurry video image, while each hand rested on a vacant looking skull.
The voices inside of me were nearly ecstatic with renewed lust.
“Take him!”
“Feed us!”
“He must become one of us!”
I stepped into the room, sword held out in front of me with both hands.
The creature stood up, it was tall and spindly and would have banged its head on the ceiling of the chamber if it had stood to its full height instead of stooping its shoulders. It had to be at least eight feet tall, but was very thin.
Moving with a grace and speed that belied its gangly appearance, the creature slipped to the left of the throne and stooped to one knee, waving with the ebony staff in its right hand towards the throne.
“For you, Master. I am at your command.”
I had to stop for moment and focus my Will on tamping down those vestiges of Ma Grendel that wanted so desperately to be free once again.
I knew that the Bane would be able to hear my response using the same magick that it had used to project its own voice, so I didn’t bother to yell my response. “Unless you are prepared to surrender to my blade freely, Dark Brother, there will have to be further violence. Feel free to restrain your beasts for now, if you like, but I will be disposing of them shortly in any event.”
I got moving towards the wheelhouse again, swor held in my right hand at the ready position.
“Yes, that is the human in you speaking, Little Brother, but I am looking forward to showing you who you really are. I want to awaken the Drashe’en within. You will find me waiting for you in the captain’s quarters of this miserable vessel. The Reavers shall not molest you further.”
I didn’t bother to respond, but I also didn’t trust his word, so I kept the sword out and ready as I found the door that would lead me into whatever trap this creature had laid for me…
***
As I passed through the maze of passageways and portals of the crew quarters, I witnessed the carnage of the Reavers. Blackened, rotting body parts and sticky, fly infested pools of blood lay scattered throughout, each spot marking the place where one or more crewmembers had met their untimely deaths. For once, I was glad that I lacked the ability to smell. I could only imagine the stench of this place.
My ‘brother’ must have instructed his servants to stay away, because I only their shuffling steps and their garbled moans as they fled before me. Excalibur continued to glow and hum in my hand, it seemed as eager as I was to rid this ship of these pests.
I could feel the presence of the Bane as I moved deeper into the ship. That feeling manifested as a sort of cold tingling sensation that grew colder and stronger the closer I seemed to get to it. As that sensation grew stronger, the darks whispers within me clamored all the more to be heard.
“We hunger!”
“Feed us!”
“Let us answer the Call!”
Ignoring them, I came to one last door. It was closed, but I knew that the Bane waited on the other side. The cold was so intense, that I shivered out of instinct, though it did no good. I had no metabolism to jump start.
I reached out to turn the handle of the door, only to see the knob shift seemingly of its own accord. I resisted the urge to shift into Spirit Sight as the door opened, remembering how the Doppelganger on South Beach had blasted me with some sort of spell that had blinded me. I didn’t want to take that chance with this thing.
The room beyond the door was lit only by the pale sunlight that found a way to trickle through the porthole of a window. It may once have been a finely furnished room, but was now a disaster zone of mangled metal, smeared blood, and broken wood. In the corner farthest from the window, my nemesis sat waiting for me, his towering form seated on a makeshift throne made up of bloated, human corpses that had somehow been molded and twisted into shape. Across his knees lay the staff that I had seen in the blurry video image, while each hand rested on a vacant looking skull.
The voices inside of me were nearly ecstatic with renewed lust.
“Take him!”
“Feed us!”
“He must become one of us!”
I stepped into the room, sword held out in front of me with both hands.
The creature stood up, it was tall and spindly and would have banged its head on the ceiling of the chamber if it had stood to its full height instead of stooping its shoulders. It had to be at least eight feet tall, but was very thin.
Moving with a grace and speed that belied its gangly appearance, the creature slipped to the left of the throne and stooped to one knee, waving with the ebony staff in its right hand towards the throne.
“For you, Master. I am at your command.”
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Brother Mine...Part 1
After what seemed an eternity of floating over the turbulent maelstrom that was the ocean in this place I spotted the tanker. It rode through the inky black waves, cutting a path straight towards the mainland. The deck of the vessel shimmered with a green, sparkling light that swirled and moved in malevolent waves of its own, passing around the shadowy figures that I assumed were the Reavers. The Bane was nowhere to be seen.
As I began to descend, I drew Excalibur and drew the Shadow close about so I could pass from this place to the mundane world. Just as I reached the edge of the strange sparkling light, I struck out with the blade. Excalibur glowed white hot as it cut into the spell that created that light and destroyed it in an explosion of light and force that blew me back with enough force to send me crashing against the rail of deck just as I transitioned between the two worlds.
Somehow, I had been able to retain a grip on the sword even as I struggled to regain my balance and stand up. The sword pulled my hand up into an overhead parry of the attack of the first Reaver, blocking the blow from a fire axe with a metallic clang.
I looked up into the vacant, soulless face of the former pirate. His right eye hung loose from his skull because the flesh surrounding it had long since rotted away. The tip of his nose was missing, leaving a gaping hole that showed a tangled mass of blackened cartilage and raw meat. The creature regarded me silently as he brought his axe back up for another powerful swing.
“Shit, and I here I thought I was pretty ugly.”
Sinking back against the railing, I parried the second blow with the sword again and reached out with my left hand to grab his rotting trousers and belt. In one swift move, I stood up while still holding the creatures clothing and hefted it up and over the railing behind me and into the ocean beyond.
Two more of the Reavers were coming towards me from the prow of the ship while a third clambered down onto the deck to my right from a ladder that led up towards the glass enclosed cockpit three stories above.
I turned to face the two since they were closer and moving faster. The larger of the two held a large spear like weapon in both hands with a long razor point on one end and a wickedly curved hook on the other end. The other Reaver held a pistol in its left hand and a cleaver in the other. It raised the pistol to take aim at me as the other slashed out with the hooked end of its weapon at my legs.
The muzzle of the gun flashed and a bullet slammed into my chest, but I was more worried about the hook sweeping towards leg. Excalibur flashed out and then down, slicing the right arm of the larger Reaver off at the elbow before slicing into the wooden haft of the weapon and sending the metallic hook flying to skitter across the deck. Another wicked slash sent the Reavers’ head spinning to join the hook as I turned and heaved the headless body into the smaller Reaver, disrupting his next shot.
Seeing an easy opportunity to take out the second Reaver, I gathered the Shadow and stepped through into the Shadowland. I passed around behind the foe as it tried to untangle itself from the still thrashing headless body of the other one, and returned to cleave it right down the middle. Both halves of that body and the headless body all collapsed into twitching heaps of tangled limbs and splattered gore.
Excalibur swung back up into a guard position as I stepped over the quivering mass of undead flesh and set myself to face the third Reaver that I had seen earlier. The only problem was that there was no other Reaver to fight.
Instead, a voice rode on the wind towards me, calling out in a grating, echoing whisper that still conveyed its message perfectly.
“Brother mine, I have recalled my Reavers. Surely there is no need for further violence?”
As I began to descend, I drew Excalibur and drew the Shadow close about so I could pass from this place to the mundane world. Just as I reached the edge of the strange sparkling light, I struck out with the blade. Excalibur glowed white hot as it cut into the spell that created that light and destroyed it in an explosion of light and force that blew me back with enough force to send me crashing against the rail of deck just as I transitioned between the two worlds.
Somehow, I had been able to retain a grip on the sword even as I struggled to regain my balance and stand up. The sword pulled my hand up into an overhead parry of the attack of the first Reaver, blocking the blow from a fire axe with a metallic clang.
I looked up into the vacant, soulless face of the former pirate. His right eye hung loose from his skull because the flesh surrounding it had long since rotted away. The tip of his nose was missing, leaving a gaping hole that showed a tangled mass of blackened cartilage and raw meat. The creature regarded me silently as he brought his axe back up for another powerful swing.
“Shit, and I here I thought I was pretty ugly.”
Sinking back against the railing, I parried the second blow with the sword again and reached out with my left hand to grab his rotting trousers and belt. In one swift move, I stood up while still holding the creatures clothing and hefted it up and over the railing behind me and into the ocean beyond.
Two more of the Reavers were coming towards me from the prow of the ship while a third clambered down onto the deck to my right from a ladder that led up towards the glass enclosed cockpit three stories above.
I turned to face the two since they were closer and moving faster. The larger of the two held a large spear like weapon in both hands with a long razor point on one end and a wickedly curved hook on the other end. The other Reaver held a pistol in its left hand and a cleaver in the other. It raised the pistol to take aim at me as the other slashed out with the hooked end of its weapon at my legs.
The muzzle of the gun flashed and a bullet slammed into my chest, but I was more worried about the hook sweeping towards leg. Excalibur flashed out and then down, slicing the right arm of the larger Reaver off at the elbow before slicing into the wooden haft of the weapon and sending the metallic hook flying to skitter across the deck. Another wicked slash sent the Reavers’ head spinning to join the hook as I turned and heaved the headless body into the smaller Reaver, disrupting his next shot.
Seeing an easy opportunity to take out the second Reaver, I gathered the Shadow and stepped through into the Shadowland. I passed around behind the foe as it tried to untangle itself from the still thrashing headless body of the other one, and returned to cleave it right down the middle. Both halves of that body and the headless body all collapsed into twitching heaps of tangled limbs and splattered gore.
Excalibur swung back up into a guard position as I stepped over the quivering mass of undead flesh and set myself to face the third Reaver that I had seen earlier. The only problem was that there was no other Reaver to fight.
Instead, a voice rode on the wind towards me, calling out in a grating, echoing whisper that still conveyed its message perfectly.
“Brother mine, I have recalled my Reavers. Surely there is no need for further violence?”
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Homeland Insecurity...Part 6
Stennos took less time than I thought he would need to recover from his. His face was still pale, but he straightened his uniform calmly as he picked up the stub of his cigar, tapped the pile of ashes from the end and took a long draw. He rubbed the end out in the ash tray and looked back up at me, his eyes narrowed.
“So, Agent Bones, what support do you need from me to end this incident your way?”
“I can get to the tanker, Commander, and I believe that I can neutralize the folks that have taken the thing over, but I’ve got no idea how to control a ship like that.” I pulled my phone from the pocket where I kept it. “If that creature on the ship doesn’t fry the circuits on my phone, I will call you to let you know when it will be safe for your people to come board the ship and take control of it.”
“And if your phone doesn’t survive, or you fail to neutralize the terrorists?”
I shrugged. “Do you have a flag I can use?”
He cocked his head. “What kind of flag?”
“Well, how about a Coast Guard flag, if you have a spare? I can raise that up the flagpole of the ship. That should serve to notify your cutters that the ship is safe for boarding. As to my failing to take the enemy out, well, then I guess your friends out there will have their chance to do what I fail to do.”
He sighed. “I was afraid that you would say that.” He moved over to a cabinet that stood next to the window and opened it. He reached in and took out a neatly folded piece of cloth. “Here is a Coast Guard flag. It is my personal flag, so I would certainly appreciate getting it back.” He walked over and set the flag into my outstretched hands. “You’ve shown me things that I never imagined were possible. I don’t know how you did that, or how you’ve come to have these strange abilities, but are sure that you can take on this whole task yourself?”
I took the carefully folded flag and tucked it into place inside my jacket. “Commander, I’ll do my best, I can guarantee that. As much as I might want to have some assistance from your people, I can’t in good conscience take anyone else with me on this mission. It is far too dangerous.”
He nodded. “OK, I’ll take care of my friends out there. How soon will you leave?”
I looked out the window into the bright California sunshine. I had dropped the Shadow covering from the windows upon our return. Everything looked so quiet and peaceful. “I should go soon. I want this over before the sun sets, one way or another.”
He extended his hand to me. I shook it, careful not to squeeze too hard. “Alright, Agent Bones, you take care out there. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
I had to admire the man. He had just been taken on a tour of the Shadowland by a pasty-faced, zombie of a federal agent who he was now trusting to avert either a huge environmental disaster or a large scale terrorist attack on an area over which he had responsibility. I didn’t know too many other ‘normal’ people who could have taken all of this in stride as easily as he did. I had seen his Spirit when I first met him, and had decided that he was a strong soul who was also a trustworthy public servant, but I was still surprised to discover the depth of his strength.
He had turned to reach for the door. He stopped just short of opening it however as I called out to him.
“Commander Stennos.”
He turned back to look at me. “Yes, Agent Bones?”
I patted the outside of my jacket where I placed the flag. “I’ll make sure you get your flag back.”
He smiled. His complexion had returned to its normal hue. “I’ll hold you to that, Agent Bones.”
I pulled the Shadow close about and stepped back into the Shadowland.
“So, Agent Bones, what support do you need from me to end this incident your way?”
“I can get to the tanker, Commander, and I believe that I can neutralize the folks that have taken the thing over, but I’ve got no idea how to control a ship like that.” I pulled my phone from the pocket where I kept it. “If that creature on the ship doesn’t fry the circuits on my phone, I will call you to let you know when it will be safe for your people to come board the ship and take control of it.”
“And if your phone doesn’t survive, or you fail to neutralize the terrorists?”
I shrugged. “Do you have a flag I can use?”
He cocked his head. “What kind of flag?”
“Well, how about a Coast Guard flag, if you have a spare? I can raise that up the flagpole of the ship. That should serve to notify your cutters that the ship is safe for boarding. As to my failing to take the enemy out, well, then I guess your friends out there will have their chance to do what I fail to do.”
He sighed. “I was afraid that you would say that.” He moved over to a cabinet that stood next to the window and opened it. He reached in and took out a neatly folded piece of cloth. “Here is a Coast Guard flag. It is my personal flag, so I would certainly appreciate getting it back.” He walked over and set the flag into my outstretched hands. “You’ve shown me things that I never imagined were possible. I don’t know how you did that, or how you’ve come to have these strange abilities, but are sure that you can take on this whole task yourself?”
I took the carefully folded flag and tucked it into place inside my jacket. “Commander, I’ll do my best, I can guarantee that. As much as I might want to have some assistance from your people, I can’t in good conscience take anyone else with me on this mission. It is far too dangerous.”
He nodded. “OK, I’ll take care of my friends out there. How soon will you leave?”
I looked out the window into the bright California sunshine. I had dropped the Shadow covering from the windows upon our return. Everything looked so quiet and peaceful. “I should go soon. I want this over before the sun sets, one way or another.”
He extended his hand to me. I shook it, careful not to squeeze too hard. “Alright, Agent Bones, you take care out there. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
I had to admire the man. He had just been taken on a tour of the Shadowland by a pasty-faced, zombie of a federal agent who he was now trusting to avert either a huge environmental disaster or a large scale terrorist attack on an area over which he had responsibility. I didn’t know too many other ‘normal’ people who could have taken all of this in stride as easily as he did. I had seen his Spirit when I first met him, and had decided that he was a strong soul who was also a trustworthy public servant, but I was still surprised to discover the depth of his strength.
He had turned to reach for the door. He stopped just short of opening it however as I called out to him.
“Commander Stennos.”
He turned back to look at me. “Yes, Agent Bones?”
I patted the outside of my jacket where I placed the flag. “I’ll make sure you get your flag back.”
He smiled. His complexion had returned to its normal hue. “I’ll hold you to that, Agent Bones.”
I pulled the Shadow close about and stepped back into the Shadowland.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Homeland Insecurity...Part 5
Before Commander Stennos could reply, the tall man in the dark suit arched his eyebrow at me and spoke up. “This is a Homeland Security matter, Agent Bones, I’m not entirely sure that the Bureau should have been brought into this incident.”
I saw that this could quickly devolve into a pissing contest over turf, so I ignored the man and looked at Stennos square in the eye. “Commander Stennos, are you the current Incident Commander?”
Stennos nodded, obviously unsure of where I was going with that question. “I am. These folks are here to brief me on the assets and capabilities that their agencies can bring to bear on the situation, just as you are Agent Bones.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not here for that.”
That set him back on his heels and seemed to raise the hackles of both of his companions. “What do you mean by that Agent Bones?”
I smiled, making sure to show my less than pearly whites and my blackened gums in the process, knowing how much that tended to unsettle folks. “I’m not here to advise you on anything, or to represent the Bureau in some multi-agency boondoggle. I’m here to solve your problem without blowing that ship up or otherwise causing an environmental disaster.”
That sent all three of them to sputtering. “Excuse me…” “And just how is that even possible?” “How could you…?”
I raised my pale, scarred left hand and waved them silent. “I am not at liberty to discuss my methods with just anyone. Commander, I’ll need to speak to you alone, if you would. The methods and means that I will be using to put an end to this crisis are Top Secret and can only be revealed to the Incident Commander on a need-to-know basis. So, Commander, do you have somewhere that we can speak in private?”
Stennos nodded and pointed the way to the door to his office, despite the sputtering objection of his advisors. “Right this way Agent Bones. I have yet to see any potential solution that doesn’t end in some sort of disaster, so if you have something that will prevent that, I’m all ears.”
I followed him into the well-appointed office that looked out over the Port of Long Beach. A dozen large container ships and the cranes that unloaded them could be seen from the large picture windows opposite his enormous redwood desk. He pulled the door shut behind us and bolted the lock into place. “I don’t see how you can really offer much of a solution to this crisis, Agent Bones, but I am more than thankful just to have a break from all of those nattering harpies out there.” He slid behind his desk and plopped down into the plush leather chair and opened the lid of cigar box. “Would you like a smoke?”
“No thanks, Commander. I haven’t been able to enjoy a smoke in years.”
He went through the ritual of preparing the cigar for smoking. He carefully broke the seal of the clear cellophane, pealed it off, and brought the cigar to his nose, giving it a good, long sniff to absorb the aroma of the raw tobacco. He looked back up at me, only to see me glancing out the window to the busy port outside.
“Thank you for allowing an old man his indulgence. But this situation is truly grave. So if you really do have a solution to this situation, I need to hear it soon.” He waved dismissively with the cigar at the door behind me to the conference room before bringing it back down and slicing one end of the cigar off. “Those harpies won’t give us much time before they insist on creating the largest oil spill in the history of California.”
I reached into the same pocket that contained my credentials and pulled out the small envelope that I had been saving for just this kind of situation. It had been given to me by Zulu after I had recovered from the incident involving Ma Grendel. It was sealed with the personal seal of the President of the United States. “Bones,” Zulu had said at the time, “this envelope contains evidence that you speak with the full faith and confidence of the President. Keep it with you at all times, but don’t use it unless it absolutely necessary.”
“Commander, you are about to hear some very strange claims come out of my mouth. I am also going to take you on a small demonstration of what I am going to claim to do, but this letter will serve as confirmation that I am not as crazy as all of this will sound. I would like you to open this letter and read the contents.”
He put down his lighter after getting the cigar lit and reached out to take the letter with his left hand. His eyes grew wide as he noted the seal on the flap. Without saying anything else, he picked up his letter opener and carefully slit the envelope open, pulling the parchment out.
His eyes grew even wider as read the document, his lips moving silently to form the words as he read them. He set the cigar down into the large, spotless glass ashtray and took the letter in both hands, bringing it closer to his nose.
He put the letter down on the desk as far away from him as he could reach, picked the cigar back up and took a couple of deep draughts on the thing. He finally looked back up at me.
“OK, Agent Bones, that’s the strongest letter of recommendation that I’ve ever seen. But I still don’t know how you will be able to help end this situation.”
I nodded. “I understand, Commander. I’m about to show you how I’ll be able to help, but you needed to see that first, for your own sanity, if nothing else.” I approached the large glass windows and passed my hand across them, from right to left. A curtain of Shadow fell across the windows, plunging the room into almost total darkness. By the time I finished, the only light in the room was coming from the red glow of his cigar, the blinking of the voice mail button on his desk phone, and my own red eyes.
“What the hell…?”
“Relax, Commander. I will turn on a light for you in a moment.”
Once the windows were obscured, I stepped up to the lamp that sat on his desk and pulled the string that caused the fluorescent light to flicker on.
“How did you do that?” He was pointing to black curtains of Shadow over the windows.
I shook my head. “You might as well save your questions until I’m done, Commander. Are you a religious man?”
He nodded. “I don’t know too many sailors who aren’t.”
“Very well then. What you are about to see and experience may well challenge some of your most dearly held religious beliefs, and for that I am sorry. It is not my intent, nor my desire, to bring about a crisis of faith for you, but I am going to have to show you some things that may spur one. If you would, please come over here. It would be best if you left the cigar in the ashtray.”
He complied, moving to stand right next to me as indicated.
“We’re going on a small trip. We’ll be back before your cigar burns out.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, hoping to reassure him. He flinched at my touch. “You’ll be safe with me, but don’t try to leave my side.”
To his credit, he straightened out to his full stature and simply said “I’m ready, Agent Bones.”
I called the Shadow to envelop us and took him on a unique tour of his facility and the Port of Long Beach.
I saw that this could quickly devolve into a pissing contest over turf, so I ignored the man and looked at Stennos square in the eye. “Commander Stennos, are you the current Incident Commander?”
Stennos nodded, obviously unsure of where I was going with that question. “I am. These folks are here to brief me on the assets and capabilities that their agencies can bring to bear on the situation, just as you are Agent Bones.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not here for that.”
That set him back on his heels and seemed to raise the hackles of both of his companions. “What do you mean by that Agent Bones?”
I smiled, making sure to show my less than pearly whites and my blackened gums in the process, knowing how much that tended to unsettle folks. “I’m not here to advise you on anything, or to represent the Bureau in some multi-agency boondoggle. I’m here to solve your problem without blowing that ship up or otherwise causing an environmental disaster.”
That sent all three of them to sputtering. “Excuse me…” “And just how is that even possible?” “How could you…?”
I raised my pale, scarred left hand and waved them silent. “I am not at liberty to discuss my methods with just anyone. Commander, I’ll need to speak to you alone, if you would. The methods and means that I will be using to put an end to this crisis are Top Secret and can only be revealed to the Incident Commander on a need-to-know basis. So, Commander, do you have somewhere that we can speak in private?”
Stennos nodded and pointed the way to the door to his office, despite the sputtering objection of his advisors. “Right this way Agent Bones. I have yet to see any potential solution that doesn’t end in some sort of disaster, so if you have something that will prevent that, I’m all ears.”
I followed him into the well-appointed office that looked out over the Port of Long Beach. A dozen large container ships and the cranes that unloaded them could be seen from the large picture windows opposite his enormous redwood desk. He pulled the door shut behind us and bolted the lock into place. “I don’t see how you can really offer much of a solution to this crisis, Agent Bones, but I am more than thankful just to have a break from all of those nattering harpies out there.” He slid behind his desk and plopped down into the plush leather chair and opened the lid of cigar box. “Would you like a smoke?”
“No thanks, Commander. I haven’t been able to enjoy a smoke in years.”
He went through the ritual of preparing the cigar for smoking. He carefully broke the seal of the clear cellophane, pealed it off, and brought the cigar to his nose, giving it a good, long sniff to absorb the aroma of the raw tobacco. He looked back up at me, only to see me glancing out the window to the busy port outside.
“Thank you for allowing an old man his indulgence. But this situation is truly grave. So if you really do have a solution to this situation, I need to hear it soon.” He waved dismissively with the cigar at the door behind me to the conference room before bringing it back down and slicing one end of the cigar off. “Those harpies won’t give us much time before they insist on creating the largest oil spill in the history of California.”
I reached into the same pocket that contained my credentials and pulled out the small envelope that I had been saving for just this kind of situation. It had been given to me by Zulu after I had recovered from the incident involving Ma Grendel. It was sealed with the personal seal of the President of the United States. “Bones,” Zulu had said at the time, “this envelope contains evidence that you speak with the full faith and confidence of the President. Keep it with you at all times, but don’t use it unless it absolutely necessary.”
“Commander, you are about to hear some very strange claims come out of my mouth. I am also going to take you on a small demonstration of what I am going to claim to do, but this letter will serve as confirmation that I am not as crazy as all of this will sound. I would like you to open this letter and read the contents.”
He put down his lighter after getting the cigar lit and reached out to take the letter with his left hand. His eyes grew wide as he noted the seal on the flap. Without saying anything else, he picked up his letter opener and carefully slit the envelope open, pulling the parchment out.
His eyes grew even wider as read the document, his lips moving silently to form the words as he read them. He set the cigar down into the large, spotless glass ashtray and took the letter in both hands, bringing it closer to his nose.
He put the letter down on the desk as far away from him as he could reach, picked the cigar back up and took a couple of deep draughts on the thing. He finally looked back up at me.
“OK, Agent Bones, that’s the strongest letter of recommendation that I’ve ever seen. But I still don’t know how you will be able to help end this situation.”
I nodded. “I understand, Commander. I’m about to show you how I’ll be able to help, but you needed to see that first, for your own sanity, if nothing else.” I approached the large glass windows and passed my hand across them, from right to left. A curtain of Shadow fell across the windows, plunging the room into almost total darkness. By the time I finished, the only light in the room was coming from the red glow of his cigar, the blinking of the voice mail button on his desk phone, and my own red eyes.
“What the hell…?”
“Relax, Commander. I will turn on a light for you in a moment.”
Once the windows were obscured, I stepped up to the lamp that sat on his desk and pulled the string that caused the fluorescent light to flicker on.
“How did you do that?” He was pointing to black curtains of Shadow over the windows.
I shook my head. “You might as well save your questions until I’m done, Commander. Are you a religious man?”
He nodded. “I don’t know too many sailors who aren’t.”
“Very well then. What you are about to see and experience may well challenge some of your most dearly held religious beliefs, and for that I am sorry. It is not my intent, nor my desire, to bring about a crisis of faith for you, but I am going to have to show you some things that may spur one. If you would, please come over here. It would be best if you left the cigar in the ashtray.”
He complied, moving to stand right next to me as indicated.
“We’re going on a small trip. We’ll be back before your cigar burns out.” I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, hoping to reassure him. He flinched at my touch. “You’ll be safe with me, but don’t try to leave my side.”
To his credit, he straightened out to his full stature and simply said “I’m ready, Agent Bones.”
I called the Shadow to envelop us and took him on a unique tour of his facility and the Port of Long Beach.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Homeland Insecurity...Part 4
I was glad that Commander Stennos was waiting for me on land. I emerged from the Shadowland and into a dark storage room at the Coast Guard station at Long Beach, California. I was kind of dreading the next trip that I would have to make through the Shadow, since it would necessarily involve trying to land precisely on a ship that was traveling across the ocean.
The open water was one of the most dangerous areas of the Shadowland. The creatures and entities that lurked within the chaotic, turbulent oceans and lakes of the Shadowland were very reminiscent of the monsters that ancient mapmakers drew along the edges of unknown waters. I had learned that lesson the hard way very early on, but that will be a story for another time.
Stepping up to the closed door of the storage room, I discovered that it was locked. I didn’t want to destroy the door, and I didn’t really want to emerge from the Shadow in full view of the maintenance crews working in the repair bay on the other side of the door, so I had to resort to another trick that I had learned recently.
I placed my hand over the lock and closed my eyes. I called upon the Shadow to coalesce inside the lock itself, filling the gaps that the key would, and turned the ShadowKey with a twist of the wrist. The lock clicked, allowing me to open the now unlocked door. I smiled as I did so. That was going to be a handy skill to have.
“Hey, who the hell are you and how did you get in there?”
I held up my empty hands to show that I wasn’t a threat to anyone. There were three fresh faced young men in their late teens or early twenties lined up next to the heavy set, older NCO with oil-darkened hands who had challenged me as soon as he saw me open the door.
“I’m sorry, I must have gotten lost.” I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my badge and credentials, flashing them with practiced ease. “I’m Special Agent Rusty Bones of the FBI, I’m looking for Commander Stennos.”
The NCO grunted, bobbed his head towards one of his young charges. “Johnson, escort this…agent…to the Commander’s office.” He picked up his wrench, shaking his head as he looked back to the disassembled boat motor laid out in pieces his workbench. “I don’t know how you ended up in that room, Mister, but I would appreciate it if you remain with Johnson here, he’ll make sure you get to the conference room with all of the other muckety-mucks.”
“I appreciate it. I’m not too familiar with your facility.”
I followed the shy young man as he led me through the warren of hallways, stairs and doors until I found myself in a large, airy conference room with several Coast Guard, Navy and Air Force officers joined by several other men and women in the professional attire of civilian officials.
Commander Stennos was a short, solid looking man with a balding pate, a broad, lined face, and the dark complexion of his Mediterranean heritage. He was speaking with a taller man in a dark suit and a female officer in Navy dress whites as I entered.
The room fell silent as I crossed the threshold, leaving the young mechanic to return to his tasks. I flashed my credentials again as I moved towards Commander Stennos. “Hello Commander, Agent Rusty Bones.”
His eyes narrowed as he glanced at my credentials and extended his right hand. “Agent Bones, I’m glad that you’re here. I don’t know how you got here so quickly, but you were true to your word.”
The Navy officer looked me up down disapprovingly. “Commander, didn’t you say this Agent was coming from Michigan?” She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow as she looked me in the eye. “How did you get here so quickly?”
I shrugged, knowing that none of these folks would believe me if I actually told them how. “I am from Michigan, but you happened to catch me out visiting a friend in LA. I was worried about traffic, which is why I asked for an hour.”
Stennos nodded. “You should have said something when we spoke. I could have sent a driver for you.”
I shot him a grin. “No worries. I’m here now. So are there any changes to the situation in the last hour?”
The open water was one of the most dangerous areas of the Shadowland. The creatures and entities that lurked within the chaotic, turbulent oceans and lakes of the Shadowland were very reminiscent of the monsters that ancient mapmakers drew along the edges of unknown waters. I had learned that lesson the hard way very early on, but that will be a story for another time.
Stepping up to the closed door of the storage room, I discovered that it was locked. I didn’t want to destroy the door, and I didn’t really want to emerge from the Shadow in full view of the maintenance crews working in the repair bay on the other side of the door, so I had to resort to another trick that I had learned recently.
I placed my hand over the lock and closed my eyes. I called upon the Shadow to coalesce inside the lock itself, filling the gaps that the key would, and turned the ShadowKey with a twist of the wrist. The lock clicked, allowing me to open the now unlocked door. I smiled as I did so. That was going to be a handy skill to have.
“Hey, who the hell are you and how did you get in there?”
I held up my empty hands to show that I wasn’t a threat to anyone. There were three fresh faced young men in their late teens or early twenties lined up next to the heavy set, older NCO with oil-darkened hands who had challenged me as soon as he saw me open the door.
“I’m sorry, I must have gotten lost.” I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my badge and credentials, flashing them with practiced ease. “I’m Special Agent Rusty Bones of the FBI, I’m looking for Commander Stennos.”
The NCO grunted, bobbed his head towards one of his young charges. “Johnson, escort this…agent…to the Commander’s office.” He picked up his wrench, shaking his head as he looked back to the disassembled boat motor laid out in pieces his workbench. “I don’t know how you ended up in that room, Mister, but I would appreciate it if you remain with Johnson here, he’ll make sure you get to the conference room with all of the other muckety-mucks.”
“I appreciate it. I’m not too familiar with your facility.”
I followed the shy young man as he led me through the warren of hallways, stairs and doors until I found myself in a large, airy conference room with several Coast Guard, Navy and Air Force officers joined by several other men and women in the professional attire of civilian officials.
Commander Stennos was a short, solid looking man with a balding pate, a broad, lined face, and the dark complexion of his Mediterranean heritage. He was speaking with a taller man in a dark suit and a female officer in Navy dress whites as I entered.
The room fell silent as I crossed the threshold, leaving the young mechanic to return to his tasks. I flashed my credentials again as I moved towards Commander Stennos. “Hello Commander, Agent Rusty Bones.”
His eyes narrowed as he glanced at my credentials and extended his right hand. “Agent Bones, I’m glad that you’re here. I don’t know how you got here so quickly, but you were true to your word.”
The Navy officer looked me up down disapprovingly. “Commander, didn’t you say this Agent was coming from Michigan?” She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow as she looked me in the eye. “How did you get here so quickly?”
I shrugged, knowing that none of these folks would believe me if I actually told them how. “I am from Michigan, but you happened to catch me out visiting a friend in LA. I was worried about traffic, which is why I asked for an hour.”
Stennos nodded. “You should have said something when we spoke. I could have sent a driver for you.”
I shot him a grin. “No worries. I’m here now. So are there any changes to the situation in the last hour?”
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Homeland Insecurity...Part 3
I closed down the SecureNet connection from my laptop and sat back, thinking.
I was obviously going to have to get on that damn ship, but how strong was that…creature…with the staff? Were those undead crewman zombies or were they some other kind of unknown undead creatures? What were these things doing on a tanker full of crude oil heading to the US?
As I tried to come up with some coherent answers to those questions, I remembered a snippet of the really long conversation that I had with Drake at Yggsdrasil this last time.
***
“My father and the rest of the An’girasii will not try to take direct control of any population, but with use their angelic image and the religious imagery of the people they are trying to fool in order to gain control of their hearts and minds.
“They have any number of very dark and evil looking servants who serve them in secret. The Doppelgangers are one example but there are others as well. It should be quite obvious by now how the Doppelgangers operate. But you haven’t yet seen the full arsenal of servants that the An’girasii have to call upon.”
“So why don’t you enlighten me then, Drake?”
He laughed. “Rusty, you have no idea how many of humanity’s nightmares are based in reality. The An’girasii have dozens of different orders of secret servants that they use to sow terror, chaos, and discord so that they can ‘ride’ in to save the day.”
“Such as?”
“Well, if you haven’t seen them already, you are likely to soon encounter the Banes and their servants the Reavers.”
“What the hell is a Bane?”
“The Banes are a race of foul creatures that have been some of the most reliable and predictable servants of the An’girasii over the eons. They are tall, thin creatures that cause disease and terror wherever they go. Many of the worst epidemics of disease in the history of human kind were caused by their activities. They are also Casters of tremendous power; each one would be a good rival of El Diablito on the scale of raw power, although their powers tend to be more focused darkness, shadow, deception and Necromancy. I have known some to have command over elemental powers such as water or air as well, but those are rare.
“The Banes have been dormant for quite some time. The last time I faced them was during the Black Death that ravaged Europe, but I have heard that some of them had gone to ground in very remote locations in Africa and Asia. Wherever the Banes show up, they are likely to be accompanied by a retinue of Reavers.”
“So what are these Reavers then?”
“Reavers are created by Banes from humans they come into contact with. They are usually low-life riffraff such as criminals, pirates, mercenaries, or other types of men who harbor a certain amount of evil within themselves. The Bane promises these men (very rarely will they be women) eternal life and power beyond their comprehension to serve them. They immediately gain an almost supernatural strength, the ability to ignore even grievous wounds, and the inability to experience pain. The longer they are around the Bane, however, the more of their life energy is consumed by the Bane. Almost all of them die within weeks, but then the Bane animates their bodies, calling forth other dark Spirits from beyond the veil to animate the corpses. They are then officially Reavers. The Spirits that are called to serve as Reavers are chaotic and evil in nature, reveling in death and destruction.”
“You know Drake, there’s something awful familiar about this who Bane and Reaver scheme. The Bane promises eternal life and power, eh? I seem to recall some similar discussions with you.”
“Bones, I did what I had to do. I make no claims to being a good person. If I hadn’t taken those actions, you wouldn’t be in the position that you are now in.”
“You prick. If you hadn’t created the Omega Project, none of this shit would have happened in the first damn place.”
“Sorry Bones. However much you might like to think so, I didn’t cause all of the woes of this world. Events have been in motion for hundreds of years, ever since I last helped to defeat the An’girasii. With the rapid changes in human society over the last couple of centuries, I knew that I would no longer be able to defeat the An’girasii and their servants again by myself. I needed allies who were strong enough to face these foes with or without me. The Omega Project accelerated things perhaps a little faster than I was prepared for, but now that I am unable to participate in the battle, you are here to fight in my place, with a set of allies (and even perhaps some enemies) who can help you in this fight.
“You have the strength of the Drashe’en flowing through you now, Bones. You have a body that is as indestructible as I once was, and you have the drive and enthusiasm for the fight that had been ebbing from me.
“Your charge that I had resorted to the tactics of my enemies is all too true. It is precisely that reason that I have fallen. I could not have won this coming battle. I don’t know for sure if you can either, but you and your allies will have a far better chance than I would have.”
That left me speechless for a moment.
“OK, so how do I defeat these creatures? Tell me everything that you can…”
***
“Damn, a Bane is on the move already.”
I reached down and picked up my cell phone. I clicked through the menu, found the last number that called me, and hit the call button.
“Hello, Commander Stennos? Yeah, this is Agent Bones. Tell me your location and I will be there within the hour. I think I might be the only one who can help you with this current situation.”
I was obviously going to have to get on that damn ship, but how strong was that…creature…with the staff? Were those undead crewman zombies or were they some other kind of unknown undead creatures? What were these things doing on a tanker full of crude oil heading to the US?
As I tried to come up with some coherent answers to those questions, I remembered a snippet of the really long conversation that I had with Drake at Yggsdrasil this last time.
***
“My father and the rest of the An’girasii will not try to take direct control of any population, but with use their angelic image and the religious imagery of the people they are trying to fool in order to gain control of their hearts and minds.
“They have any number of very dark and evil looking servants who serve them in secret. The Doppelgangers are one example but there are others as well. It should be quite obvious by now how the Doppelgangers operate. But you haven’t yet seen the full arsenal of servants that the An’girasii have to call upon.”
“So why don’t you enlighten me then, Drake?”
He laughed. “Rusty, you have no idea how many of humanity’s nightmares are based in reality. The An’girasii have dozens of different orders of secret servants that they use to sow terror, chaos, and discord so that they can ‘ride’ in to save the day.”
“Such as?”
“Well, if you haven’t seen them already, you are likely to soon encounter the Banes and their servants the Reavers.”
“What the hell is a Bane?”
“The Banes are a race of foul creatures that have been some of the most reliable and predictable servants of the An’girasii over the eons. They are tall, thin creatures that cause disease and terror wherever they go. Many of the worst epidemics of disease in the history of human kind were caused by their activities. They are also Casters of tremendous power; each one would be a good rival of El Diablito on the scale of raw power, although their powers tend to be more focused darkness, shadow, deception and Necromancy. I have known some to have command over elemental powers such as water or air as well, but those are rare.
“The Banes have been dormant for quite some time. The last time I faced them was during the Black Death that ravaged Europe, but I have heard that some of them had gone to ground in very remote locations in Africa and Asia. Wherever the Banes show up, they are likely to be accompanied by a retinue of Reavers.”
“So what are these Reavers then?”
“Reavers are created by Banes from humans they come into contact with. They are usually low-life riffraff such as criminals, pirates, mercenaries, or other types of men who harbor a certain amount of evil within themselves. The Bane promises these men (very rarely will they be women) eternal life and power beyond their comprehension to serve them. They immediately gain an almost supernatural strength, the ability to ignore even grievous wounds, and the inability to experience pain. The longer they are around the Bane, however, the more of their life energy is consumed by the Bane. Almost all of them die within weeks, but then the Bane animates their bodies, calling forth other dark Spirits from beyond the veil to animate the corpses. They are then officially Reavers. The Spirits that are called to serve as Reavers are chaotic and evil in nature, reveling in death and destruction.”
“You know Drake, there’s something awful familiar about this who Bane and Reaver scheme. The Bane promises eternal life and power, eh? I seem to recall some similar discussions with you.”
“Bones, I did what I had to do. I make no claims to being a good person. If I hadn’t taken those actions, you wouldn’t be in the position that you are now in.”
“You prick. If you hadn’t created the Omega Project, none of this shit would have happened in the first damn place.”
“Sorry Bones. However much you might like to think so, I didn’t cause all of the woes of this world. Events have been in motion for hundreds of years, ever since I last helped to defeat the An’girasii. With the rapid changes in human society over the last couple of centuries, I knew that I would no longer be able to defeat the An’girasii and their servants again by myself. I needed allies who were strong enough to face these foes with or without me. The Omega Project accelerated things perhaps a little faster than I was prepared for, but now that I am unable to participate in the battle, you are here to fight in my place, with a set of allies (and even perhaps some enemies) who can help you in this fight.
“You have the strength of the Drashe’en flowing through you now, Bones. You have a body that is as indestructible as I once was, and you have the drive and enthusiasm for the fight that had been ebbing from me.
“Your charge that I had resorted to the tactics of my enemies is all too true. It is precisely that reason that I have fallen. I could not have won this coming battle. I don’t know for sure if you can either, but you and your allies will have a far better chance than I would have.”
That left me speechless for a moment.
“OK, so how do I defeat these creatures? Tell me everything that you can…”
***
“Damn, a Bane is on the move already.”
I reached down and picked up my cell phone. I clicked through the menu, found the last number that called me, and hit the call button.
“Hello, Commander Stennos? Yeah, this is Agent Bones. Tell me your location and I will be there within the hour. I think I might be the only one who can help you with this current situation.”
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Homeland Insecurity...Part 2
Dear Agent Bones,
The situation is critical and time is very short, so I will be brief.
Approximately 2 weeks ago, the MV Horn of Africa, an independent supertanker flagged out of the Philippines, was hijacked by a small band of pirates in Indonesian waters. All radio communication with the crew of that ship was lost at that time.
That tanker is now steaming at full speed toward the California coast, apparently heading towards Long Beach. At its present speed and course, it will reach that port in less than 24 hours. It does not respond to any of our radio transmissions to stop and be boarded. We have made two attempts to intercept this vessel in the last four hours. On the first such attempt, the tanker failed to alter course or slow down to be boarded. We attempted a high speed boarding maneuver with several smaller boats, but suffered several casualties in the attempt due to the weather and the uncooperative tanker swamping several of the boats before they could get into place.
A second attempt at boarding by an airborne assault team was scuttled when all three helicopters experienced electronic problems as they approached within a couple of hundred yards of the vessel.
This tanker is riding low in the water and is presumed to be full of crude. We have the firepower in place to disable this vessel, but we would run the risk of creating a significant oil spill that would contaminate several hundred miles of California shoreline, which would be an ecological disaster.
To be honest, I don’t know that you can assist in this situation, but I have been referred to you by my superior officers. I have enclosed links to two different video streams of the failed airborne assault of the vessel. Please review this footage and let me know if you can provide any assistance that would avert any potential ecological damage.
Sincerely,
Cmdr J. Stennos
US Coast Guard
I clicked on the link to the first video stream. It took a few moments to for the software to load up and build the buffer.
The first image was of the blurry profile of the immense tanker as the first chopper approached it from the side, not very high above the waves itself.
The cameraman panned down the length of the ship along the deck, but the relatively low altitude of the cameraman meant that the few figure visible on the deck were indistinct. Just as the chopper was rising in altitude and the cameraman was able to begin a focusing on a tall figure walking toward the front of the vessel, that figure pointed a stick-like object towards the camera. The image dissolved and went blank.
Frustrated, I clicked on the second link and waited for the buffer to finish loading up.
The grainy footage began with a distant shot in front of the approaching tanker. The vessel was too far away, and the image too blurry at first, too make out any detail. As the copter and the tanker drew together though, the images became much clearer and the details easier to make out.
The operator of the camera used a zoom feature to get a good view of the bridge of the vessel, showing a shattered window that revealed a strange figure at the helm of the ship.
The figure used to be a man, but his race or ethnicity was no longer apparent, since what flesh remained was black with decay. Large white patches of skull clearly showed through. His eyes were the only thing that seemed to be animate. I noted an eerie resemblance of his bright red dots of fire with my own eyes. Something nefarious was animating this corpse.
As if in response to this gruesome, unbelievable image, the cameraman quickly shifted the lens of the camera to the deck below, near the very front of the ship itself. A small group of figures stood in a loose circle formation.
At the center of the formation was a figure that was taller than the others, but it was stooped over. It was covered by hooded cloak that billowed back in the breeze of the sea, but its body was still obscured by dark robes beneath. The figure leaned heavily on a staff.
Five other smaller figures stood in a loose circle around this central figure. These other figures appeared to be wearing the remnants of t-shirts and jeans, their skin resembling that of the pilot of the vessel, hanging in loose, blackened chunks.
The central figure stood up to its full height, pointing its staff with one long, skeletal thin arm towards the camera. The image disappeared into grey fuzz and then ended altogether.
The situation is critical and time is very short, so I will be brief.
Approximately 2 weeks ago, the MV Horn of Africa, an independent supertanker flagged out of the Philippines, was hijacked by a small band of pirates in Indonesian waters. All radio communication with the crew of that ship was lost at that time.
That tanker is now steaming at full speed toward the California coast, apparently heading towards Long Beach. At its present speed and course, it will reach that port in less than 24 hours. It does not respond to any of our radio transmissions to stop and be boarded. We have made two attempts to intercept this vessel in the last four hours. On the first such attempt, the tanker failed to alter course or slow down to be boarded. We attempted a high speed boarding maneuver with several smaller boats, but suffered several casualties in the attempt due to the weather and the uncooperative tanker swamping several of the boats before they could get into place.
A second attempt at boarding by an airborne assault team was scuttled when all three helicopters experienced electronic problems as they approached within a couple of hundred yards of the vessel.
This tanker is riding low in the water and is presumed to be full of crude. We have the firepower in place to disable this vessel, but we would run the risk of creating a significant oil spill that would contaminate several hundred miles of California shoreline, which would be an ecological disaster.
To be honest, I don’t know that you can assist in this situation, but I have been referred to you by my superior officers. I have enclosed links to two different video streams of the failed airborne assault of the vessel. Please review this footage and let me know if you can provide any assistance that would avert any potential ecological damage.
Sincerely,
Cmdr J. Stennos
US Coast Guard
I clicked on the link to the first video stream. It took a few moments to for the software to load up and build the buffer.
The first image was of the blurry profile of the immense tanker as the first chopper approached it from the side, not very high above the waves itself.
The cameraman panned down the length of the ship along the deck, but the relatively low altitude of the cameraman meant that the few figure visible on the deck were indistinct. Just as the chopper was rising in altitude and the cameraman was able to begin a focusing on a tall figure walking toward the front of the vessel, that figure pointed a stick-like object towards the camera. The image dissolved and went blank.
Frustrated, I clicked on the second link and waited for the buffer to finish loading up.
The grainy footage began with a distant shot in front of the approaching tanker. The vessel was too far away, and the image too blurry at first, too make out any detail. As the copter and the tanker drew together though, the images became much clearer and the details easier to make out.
The operator of the camera used a zoom feature to get a good view of the bridge of the vessel, showing a shattered window that revealed a strange figure at the helm of the ship.
The figure used to be a man, but his race or ethnicity was no longer apparent, since what flesh remained was black with decay. Large white patches of skull clearly showed through. His eyes were the only thing that seemed to be animate. I noted an eerie resemblance of his bright red dots of fire with my own eyes. Something nefarious was animating this corpse.
As if in response to this gruesome, unbelievable image, the cameraman quickly shifted the lens of the camera to the deck below, near the very front of the ship itself. A small group of figures stood in a loose circle formation.
At the center of the formation was a figure that was taller than the others, but it was stooped over. It was covered by hooded cloak that billowed back in the breeze of the sea, but its body was still obscured by dark robes beneath. The figure leaned heavily on a staff.
Five other smaller figures stood in a loose circle around this central figure. These other figures appeared to be wearing the remnants of t-shirts and jeans, their skin resembling that of the pilot of the vessel, hanging in loose, blackened chunks.
The central figure stood up to its full height, pointing its staff with one long, skeletal thin arm towards the camera. The image disappeared into grey fuzz and then ended altogether.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Homeland Insecurity...Part 1
My discussion with Drake at the tree lasted for several days. Obviously, I can’t post the contents of that entire discussion in this forum, but you will get further glimpses from Drake himself when I allow him to post snippets here on the blog.
As for me, let’s just leave it that I now have a much better understanding as to who and what I am facing with the An’girasii and their various servants.
In the meantime, I returned home to prepare for the draft in the Fantasy Baseball league I had entered with the Professor.
The draft was set begin, so when the phone rang, I figured it was going to Jim trying to trash talk. “Look Jim, there’s nothing you can offer me A-Rod, I’m keeping him this year.”
“Hello, Agent Rusty Bones?” It was not Jim.
“Oh, I’m sorry, yes this is Agent Bones. Can I help you?”
“Yes, I am Commander John Stennos of the U.S. Coast Guard. I was given you’re number by an Agent Wilson. We have a…situation…that we may have need of your assistance in resolving.”
“Well, if Agent Wilson referred you to me, then it must be pretty serious.”
“Yes, sir. It is deadly serious.”
“OK, so what’s going on?”
“Sir, I’m afraid I can’t discuss this on a non-secure line, this is a very sensitive Homeland Security matter that we cannot afford to have leaked out until the situation has been handled.”
“I see. Well, I need to get a briefing on the situation in order to let you know if I can help you or not.”
“Yes, sir, I understand. Agent Wilson has provided me with your SecureNet e-mail address. I can have a detailed report with video links and all of the information you will need sent to within the next five minutes. I just wanted to contact you personally to apprise of the incoming message.”
“Thank you, Commander Stennos. I will be watching for the message. Please provide your location with the message. If I can help I will need to know where to find you.”
“It will be in the report, Agent Bones. I’m not sure how one person can really help with this situation, but I look forward to hearing back from you after you have viewed the message. Thank you for your time.”
The line went dead.
His voice had a tense quality to it that betrayed the pressure of the situation he was seemingly under.
I set the phone down and turned back to the upcoming draft. With a shrug, I set the thing to auto-draft, hoping that I would have a half-way decent team at the end of it and then toggled the SecureNet switch on the laptop, so that I could begin the login verification process onto the Bureau’s secret, shadowy internet where secure communication could take place and waited for the message from Commander Stennos.
As for me, let’s just leave it that I now have a much better understanding as to who and what I am facing with the An’girasii and their various servants.
In the meantime, I returned home to prepare for the draft in the Fantasy Baseball league I had entered with the Professor.
The draft was set begin, so when the phone rang, I figured it was going to Jim trying to trash talk. “Look Jim, there’s nothing you can offer me A-Rod, I’m keeping him this year.”
“Hello, Agent Rusty Bones?” It was not Jim.
“Oh, I’m sorry, yes this is Agent Bones. Can I help you?”
“Yes, I am Commander John Stennos of the U.S. Coast Guard. I was given you’re number by an Agent Wilson. We have a…situation…that we may have need of your assistance in resolving.”
“Well, if Agent Wilson referred you to me, then it must be pretty serious.”
“Yes, sir. It is deadly serious.”
“OK, so what’s going on?”
“Sir, I’m afraid I can’t discuss this on a non-secure line, this is a very sensitive Homeland Security matter that we cannot afford to have leaked out until the situation has been handled.”
“I see. Well, I need to get a briefing on the situation in order to let you know if I can help you or not.”
“Yes, sir, I understand. Agent Wilson has provided me with your SecureNet e-mail address. I can have a detailed report with video links and all of the information you will need sent to within the next five minutes. I just wanted to contact you personally to apprise of the incoming message.”
“Thank you, Commander Stennos. I will be watching for the message. Please provide your location with the message. If I can help I will need to know where to find you.”
“It will be in the report, Agent Bones. I’m not sure how one person can really help with this situation, but I look forward to hearing back from you after you have viewed the message. Thank you for your time.”
The line went dead.
His voice had a tense quality to it that betrayed the pressure of the situation he was seemingly under.
I set the phone down and turned back to the upcoming draft. With a shrug, I set the thing to auto-draft, hoping that I would have a half-way decent team at the end of it and then toggled the SecureNet switch on the laptop, so that I could begin the login verification process onto the Bureau’s secret, shadowy internet where secure communication could take place and waited for the message from Commander Stennos.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
A Visit From an Old (New?) Enemy
After several minutes of trying to sort things out in my head, I felt a change in the atmosphere of this place. Even though I can’t feel temperature changes, I could feel the chill that descended on the clearing as a being stepped from the surrounding forest and cast a long, deep shadow.
Papa Locks.
The leaves of the tree whispered in the whipping winds.
I stood up and began picking my way through the tangled roots towards the edge of the canopy.
Papa Locks made his way towards the tree.
We met in at the very edge of the canopy. Only his shadow fell across the threshold of the tree’s reach.
“Locks, what are you doing here?”
His tall frame towered over me. His dark cloak blew in the wind, but his hood remained in place. He was wearing heavy boots, dark trousers and a tunic-like shirt that was tucked into a large, black leather belt with a heavy brass buckle. His frame was thinner than I remembered. He brought his arms up to his chest, folding them as he stood there staring at me. His hands were covered in long black gauntlets. No part of his skin was visible.
He spoke in that same deep Haitian-accented rumble that he had always used when he finally answered me. “I am looking for you, Bones.”
“Why?”
His head tilted back as he let forth a hearty laugh. “Because, Bones, you have something that I want.”
My hands were down at my side, clenched in anger. I made a special effort to open my fists and work my fingers. I had the feeling that I would need to use them soon. “I’m not prepared to give you anything that I have, Locks. I would strongly recommend that you return to your new owners and forget how you found me.”
He shook his head back and forth. “I’m not going to do that, Bones, not until you give me what I want.”
My right hand began to creep up my side towards my shoulder, where Excalibur waited. “Just what is it that you want, then?”
He uncrossed his arms and held his hands out in front of him. “Keep your shiny blade sheathed, Bones. I don’t think you will actually miss what it is that I have come for.”
I stopped my hand about waist high, but did not drop it. I knew that I could draw the blade and strike him down before he could draw any weapons on me. I was also reasonably confident that whatever power he had over Spirits would be of little use against the Darkness that already resided within me. He had been killed before I met Ma Grendel.
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve come for Drake. Give him to me.”
I was taken aback at that. “What do you mean? Drake’s dead. Didn’t El Diablito fill you in on that front since you’ve come back?”
A rumbling chuckle leaked forth from beneath the hood. “Yes, I know that Drake’s body has been taken by his father. I also know that you possess a token with his Spirit contained within it. That is what I have come for, Bones. Give it to me and you will be done with him forever.”
I had to admit that I did at least consider agreeing to his request. Drake was a pain in the ass and there was a certain amount of justice in the idea that I pass the jerk into the hands of one of his former minions.
“OK, even if I did admit to knowing what you are talking about, why would I do that, Locks? Why would I turn over the Spirit of one of my greatest enemies to another enemy, who is himself newly risen from the dead?”
“Stop playing games, Bones. We both know that you have Drake’s Spirit with you right now. I want him for my own purposes, which are none of your concern.”
I shook my head this time. “That’s not good enough. You’ve got a shit load of convincing to do before I’ll even entertain the notion of giving him up. What are you up to? Why shouldn’t I just strike you down right here and be done with you?”
He crossed his arms again. “When my Spirit roamed the worlds, I learned things. I know things about those creatures that I doubt Drake has revealed to you yet. I know what it is that you face. I also know what it is that you’ve become.”
“And just what is that?”
“Drashe’en.”
Hearing that word come from him caught me by total surprise. “What did you just say?”
“I know that your Spirit has been meshed with that of a Drashe’en. I know that you have somehow made yourself into that which the An’girasii fear the most. You have the soul of a Man, but the power and strength of a Drashe’en. You are a marked man, Bones. The An’girasii will not be able to ignore you for long. Once they learn that you have all of Drake’s knowledge at your disposal, you will find no safe haven from their minions.”
“How the fuck do you know all of this, Locks?”
He threw his head back and laughed again. “Bones, you may have the essence of a Drashe’en within you, but you are still that naïve local cop at heart. You are but a babe in this realm of Spirits and Magick, of Angels and Demons. I have made a lifetime of study in this realm. No matter how much Drake thought of you, you will never be up to the tasks that will be required of you. Give Drake to me. I will make him give me the knowledge of how to destroy the An’girasii. I will share that knowledge with you and your allies. We can join forces and destroy them once and for all.” He had moved forward as he spoke until he was right outside of the edge of the canopy of Yggsdrasil, but he stopped short of crossing that threshold.
I reached up with my left hand and touched the ring that dangled from its chain around my neck. I pulled it out from underneath my shirt to let it hang in full view. “How can I trust that you are actually Papa Locks? How can I trust you even if you are who you appear to be? How do I know that you aren’t one of the An’girasii or one of their servants?”
He stood silently as I took a big step backwards, so that he would have to come well under the canopy of the tree, something which he seemed unwilling to do. I used my left hand to pull the chain that held the ring over my head. I reached up and placed the chain over one of the lower hanging branches and over a clump of fluttering leaves.
The wind had really picked up. I hadn’t noticed it before as we spoke, but the branches of the tree and our clothes were being whipped about by the howling, swirling winds. We were at the center of a maelstrom.
My words were barely audible over the rustle of the leaves and the creaking of the branches. As I spoke, I noticed that the one branch that remained motionless in this whole mess was the one from which Drake hung motionless and unaffected.
“If you want him so bad, Locks-or whoever the Hell else you are, come and get him for yourself.”
It looked like he was trying to walk into the zone defined by the canopy, but he couldn’t push through. He reached out one grasping hand as the winds picked up even higher speeds, pushing him back even further.
“Don’t be such a fool Bones! Give him to me! I will have him!”
His voice grew fainter and fainter as his body became slightly translucent and was pushed farther and farther back.
“You are doomed, Drashe’en!”
With that last echoing cry, he was gone. Just as quickly as they had come, the winds died down.
All was quiet, except for the chuckling rustle of the leaves of Yggsdrasil. I shook my head in disbelief as I reached up and picked the necklace off the branch and balled the chain up in my closed fist.
“Fuck. There was my chance to get rid of your dumb ass, Drake. But it looks like you and I have some more talking to do.”
Papa Locks.
The leaves of the tree whispered in the whipping winds.
I stood up and began picking my way through the tangled roots towards the edge of the canopy.
Papa Locks made his way towards the tree.
We met in at the very edge of the canopy. Only his shadow fell across the threshold of the tree’s reach.
“Locks, what are you doing here?”
His tall frame towered over me. His dark cloak blew in the wind, but his hood remained in place. He was wearing heavy boots, dark trousers and a tunic-like shirt that was tucked into a large, black leather belt with a heavy brass buckle. His frame was thinner than I remembered. He brought his arms up to his chest, folding them as he stood there staring at me. His hands were covered in long black gauntlets. No part of his skin was visible.
He spoke in that same deep Haitian-accented rumble that he had always used when he finally answered me. “I am looking for you, Bones.”
“Why?”
His head tilted back as he let forth a hearty laugh. “Because, Bones, you have something that I want.”
My hands were down at my side, clenched in anger. I made a special effort to open my fists and work my fingers. I had the feeling that I would need to use them soon. “I’m not prepared to give you anything that I have, Locks. I would strongly recommend that you return to your new owners and forget how you found me.”
He shook his head back and forth. “I’m not going to do that, Bones, not until you give me what I want.”
My right hand began to creep up my side towards my shoulder, where Excalibur waited. “Just what is it that you want, then?”
He uncrossed his arms and held his hands out in front of him. “Keep your shiny blade sheathed, Bones. I don’t think you will actually miss what it is that I have come for.”
I stopped my hand about waist high, but did not drop it. I knew that I could draw the blade and strike him down before he could draw any weapons on me. I was also reasonably confident that whatever power he had over Spirits would be of little use against the Darkness that already resided within me. He had been killed before I met Ma Grendel.
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve come for Drake. Give him to me.”
I was taken aback at that. “What do you mean? Drake’s dead. Didn’t El Diablito fill you in on that front since you’ve come back?”
A rumbling chuckle leaked forth from beneath the hood. “Yes, I know that Drake’s body has been taken by his father. I also know that you possess a token with his Spirit contained within it. That is what I have come for, Bones. Give it to me and you will be done with him forever.”
I had to admit that I did at least consider agreeing to his request. Drake was a pain in the ass and there was a certain amount of justice in the idea that I pass the jerk into the hands of one of his former minions.
“OK, even if I did admit to knowing what you are talking about, why would I do that, Locks? Why would I turn over the Spirit of one of my greatest enemies to another enemy, who is himself newly risen from the dead?”
“Stop playing games, Bones. We both know that you have Drake’s Spirit with you right now. I want him for my own purposes, which are none of your concern.”
I shook my head this time. “That’s not good enough. You’ve got a shit load of convincing to do before I’ll even entertain the notion of giving him up. What are you up to? Why shouldn’t I just strike you down right here and be done with you?”
He crossed his arms again. “When my Spirit roamed the worlds, I learned things. I know things about those creatures that I doubt Drake has revealed to you yet. I know what it is that you face. I also know what it is that you’ve become.”
“And just what is that?”
“Drashe’en.”
Hearing that word come from him caught me by total surprise. “What did you just say?”
“I know that your Spirit has been meshed with that of a Drashe’en. I know that you have somehow made yourself into that which the An’girasii fear the most. You have the soul of a Man, but the power and strength of a Drashe’en. You are a marked man, Bones. The An’girasii will not be able to ignore you for long. Once they learn that you have all of Drake’s knowledge at your disposal, you will find no safe haven from their minions.”
“How the fuck do you know all of this, Locks?”
He threw his head back and laughed again. “Bones, you may have the essence of a Drashe’en within you, but you are still that naïve local cop at heart. You are but a babe in this realm of Spirits and Magick, of Angels and Demons. I have made a lifetime of study in this realm. No matter how much Drake thought of you, you will never be up to the tasks that will be required of you. Give Drake to me. I will make him give me the knowledge of how to destroy the An’girasii. I will share that knowledge with you and your allies. We can join forces and destroy them once and for all.” He had moved forward as he spoke until he was right outside of the edge of the canopy of Yggsdrasil, but he stopped short of crossing that threshold.
I reached up with my left hand and touched the ring that dangled from its chain around my neck. I pulled it out from underneath my shirt to let it hang in full view. “How can I trust that you are actually Papa Locks? How can I trust you even if you are who you appear to be? How do I know that you aren’t one of the An’girasii or one of their servants?”
He stood silently as I took a big step backwards, so that he would have to come well under the canopy of the tree, something which he seemed unwilling to do. I used my left hand to pull the chain that held the ring over my head. I reached up and placed the chain over one of the lower hanging branches and over a clump of fluttering leaves.
The wind had really picked up. I hadn’t noticed it before as we spoke, but the branches of the tree and our clothes were being whipped about by the howling, swirling winds. We were at the center of a maelstrom.
My words were barely audible over the rustle of the leaves and the creaking of the branches. As I spoke, I noticed that the one branch that remained motionless in this whole mess was the one from which Drake hung motionless and unaffected.
“If you want him so bad, Locks-or whoever the Hell else you are, come and get him for yourself.”
It looked like he was trying to walk into the zone defined by the canopy, but he couldn’t push through. He reached out one grasping hand as the winds picked up even higher speeds, pushing him back even further.
“Don’t be such a fool Bones! Give him to me! I will have him!”
His voice grew fainter and fainter as his body became slightly translucent and was pushed farther and farther back.
“You are doomed, Drashe’en!”
With that last echoing cry, he was gone. Just as quickly as they had come, the winds died down.
All was quiet, except for the chuckling rustle of the leaves of Yggsdrasil. I shook my head in disbelief as I reached up and picked the necklace off the branch and balled the chain up in my closed fist.
“Fuck. There was my chance to get rid of your dumb ass, Drake. But it looks like you and I have some more talking to do.”
Sunday, March 18, 2007
A Visit From an Old Friend
I emerged from the Shadow into the forest surrounding the clearing where Yggsdrasil stood. Since I was in my actual physical form as opposed to my Spirit form, the path did not form for me as it normally would have.
I couldn’t remember the last time that I had come to this place in body as well as soul, but I felt a niggling little pull in the back of my consciousness that told me that it was time to come here. Traveling in this manner was the lazy way of accomplishing the task since it didn’t require any meditation.
I picked my way through the dark, gloomy forest, crunching heavily through the thick, dry underbrush. The forest seemed to resent my intrusion. Every low lying branch hung an inch or two lower than I thought, each root cluster standing an inch or two taller than it looked. But despite the obstacles, I pushed through and emerged into the clearing that John Red Bear had first introduced me to in his earliest instruction. Of course, I had since planted the seed that had grown into the massive black tree that now stood sentinel in the middle of the clearing.
Its massive, gnarled trunk would have required the interlocked arms of ten men to cover its entire circumference. Its enormous crown of leaves whispered in the breezes of this place, sometimes forming words that could be understood when the tree wanted to be understood, but the strangest thing about those leaves was their color. The top side of each leaf was black as the darkest, moonless night, while the bottom side of each leaf was milky white. I had found fallen leaves with the faces of people I knew etched on the white sides. The thick, gnarled root clusters spread from the trunk of the tree in every direction rising up high enough in more than one place to become impromptu benches where I, and others, could sit under the canopy. On the far side of the trunk there was a small, dark opening where the roots of tree parted to reveal a stairwell down to a cavern where a reflecting pool had formed. That part was always the same, the cavern was always on the opposite side of the tree from where I entered the clearing, no matter which direction I came from.
Sitting on its haunches amidst the roots near the trunk of the tree was the brown form of an enormous bear, a bear with a splotch of red fur on its front, left shoulder.
“John? Is that you old friend?” I almost ran as I called out towards the creature.
The massive head of the creature turned to face me, its mouth curling into a snarl that become a smile as his form shifted from that of the bear to a near-human form the glowed with an internal radiance. John raised his right hand in greeting as I approached.
“Jason!” He looked around him, pointedly glancing at the tree trunk and the canopy of black and white rustling leaves. “I see that you have seen fit to redecorate our old meeting place. I must say that I’m rather impressed.”
I reached out to take hold of his glowing hand in mine, noting the stark contrast of light and darkness as he pulled me into a fierce hug.
I shrugged as we pulled apart. “I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.”
He laughed. His smiling face was now free of the lines of premature aging that had once marked it. “That is not unusual in this place. Take care in this place, for all actions taken here are likely to bring about consequences that you didn’t intend.”
“Yeah, so I’ve noticed. Now instead of a quiet place of contemplation, I get a grumpy tree that likes to laugh at me and gives all sorts of cryptic advice.”
The rustling of the leaves grew louder, as if in complaint at my characterization of it, but nothing intelligible was discernible. Probably just as well.
“The Tree is a reflection of its creator, Jason. There is much for you to learn from it, however.” He pointed to a cluster of roots that was tall and long enough for both of us to easily sit. “But I called you here today to speak about other things.”
“So it was you who called to me!”
He nodded. “I have wanted to speak with you for a long time now, but I haven’t been able to get back to this place until now.”
“I would have thought that you travels through the many worlds would have taken you far from this place, John. Frankly, I’m surprised that you’ve come back at all. I’m glad you have though, because I’ve missed our lessons.”
He nodded as he looked directly into my own eyes. I felt as if he could see everything about who and what I had become since we had last spoken. I wanted to tell him about it, but speaking seemed so frivolous, so unnecessary.
“Jason, I can see that you have become far more than I ever could have imagined. I have watched as you have battled first to regain your humanity and then to become…more than human. I cried when I saw you fall to that foul creature of darkness beneath New York.
“I rejoiced to see you return and come to grips with the changes that were brought about by that experience. I wanted so badly to warn you from trying to free the creature that you know as Dracaar, but I was not permitted to interfere.”
“What do you mean that you weren’t permitted? If I had really known what it was that we were trying to do, what it was that was being freed from that damn urn, I would have taken it far, far away from our world and left it to rot.”
A single glistening, radiant tear fell down his right cheek. “I know, Jason. But as I said, I was not allowed to interfere, to help you in any way at that time.” He held up a hand to stay my next question. “I cannot discuss who prevented me, or I why I wasn’t allowed to help. It must suffice for me to say that I was simply not permitted to intervene. What is important is that the deed has been done and that it cannot, now, be undone.
“Dracaar was going to be released, by you or someone else, but it was critical for you know this new foe and for you to have access to information that would allow you and your allies to have a chance to face him and his ilk. It was crucial for you to see the nature of your true enemies.”
“Well, I’ve certainly seen that these damn creatures need to be defeated. But I have no clue how I am to do it. I had trouble facing one of their damn servants!”
He looked down at the mass of roots spread out beneath us. “Yes, the doppelganger in South Beach. You did better with the second one, but you were right in your assessment that the one in Detroit was weaker. You have made yourself known with that killing. The An’girasii will not take the slaying of one of their valuable servants lightly. That is one of the reasons I called you here.”
“Are you going to give me some clues as to how to kill these things?”
He shook his head at that. “No, that touches on other things of which I am not permitted to speak. However, I can tell you that have access to all of the clues that will lead you to find a way to stave off defeat at their hands, if only temporarily.” He reached out and touched me on the chest with his right hand and then waved up at the canopy of leaves and the tree trunk behind us. “Just as you carried within you the seed to plant this magnificent tree, your seed has been used to give birth to the one person who can bring about the final defeat of the An’girasii.”
I sat back. “Alexa?”
He nodded. “Yes. Only she can now bring about their total defeat, though the costs may be higher than even she may be able to bear. But while only Alexa can trigger the keys to final victory over the An’girasii and their minions, she will never be permitted that chance unless you and the ORC’s first find those keys and get them to her, all while protecting her from them.”
I shook my own head. “How can the fate of the world rest in the hands of toddler? How can all that pressure rest on the head and shoulders of any one person period?”
He raised his hand to stop my questions. “It has taken extreme efforts over many millennia by secret allies that I cannot reveal to bring about this one chance.”
“You mean there are ‘secret allies’ out there that have been running this show? Why can’t these assholes, whoever the Hell they are, step in give us some real damn assistance? John, can’t you help me to understand this?”
A second tear rolled down his cheek. “I can only say that there are Laws that prevent these allies from providing any of the direct assistance that you are asking for.”
I threw up my hands. “What the Hell is it with all of these damn ‘laws’? I was a cop and am now and FBI agent. I don’t know of any damn ‘laws’ that would affect this shit! Drake keeps talking about ‘laws’ that the An’girasii have to live by, and that damn elf queen, the Lady of the Lake or whatever the Hell she was, mentioned stuff about ‘laws’ too.”
He laid a hand on my leg. “Jason. I know this all seems so foreign and strange to you now. When I was alive, I was not aware of any of this myself. It is only in the traveling that I have done since my death, and the knowledge that I have gained in those travels, that has given me the perspective I now have. Please understand that the people you have just mentioned have already provided you some of the clues that you will need in order to have a chance at helping Alexa succeed in achieving her mission. Drake is with you for a reason. He holds answers that no one else possesses about the An’girasii.” He brought his hand to tap me on the chest. “Drake has answers about who, and what, you have become. Listen for those clues in what he has to say and perhaps you will find the strength to do what must be done.”
He looked away from me as I sat in stunned silence.
“You have time yet, to seek those clues. The An’girasii are just beginning to emerge again and will take some time yet to gather their strength. They have yet to understand your true significance and the significance of Alexa. Luckily, they also have a disdain for human technology and methods of communication or the telling of this story as you have been until now could be disastrous.”
“Oh shit. Should I stop blogging about this stuff?”
John shook his head again and looked me in the eyes. “No. It is part of what keeps you in touch with your humanity. And it is that which will enable you to face the coming challenges with a chance to succeed. If you lose touch with your humanity, then all hope is lost.”
John stood up. The glow within him grew brighter, his body more translucent. “Jason, I must take my leave.”
I stood up as well. “Will I see you again, John?”
His face looked very somber. “Perhaps. If given the opportunity, I will gladly visit with you again, but that may not be for me to decide.”
I reached out to touch him as his body continued to grow brighter and more transparent. He took my hand in a grasp that was warm and strong. I could feel energy flowing from him as it entered into my own Spirit, filling me with joy and peace as he flashed brighter and faded away.
The whispering of the leaves reflected a sadness that I shared as I sat down again to think on all that was said.
I couldn’t remember the last time that I had come to this place in body as well as soul, but I felt a niggling little pull in the back of my consciousness that told me that it was time to come here. Traveling in this manner was the lazy way of accomplishing the task since it didn’t require any meditation.
I picked my way through the dark, gloomy forest, crunching heavily through the thick, dry underbrush. The forest seemed to resent my intrusion. Every low lying branch hung an inch or two lower than I thought, each root cluster standing an inch or two taller than it looked. But despite the obstacles, I pushed through and emerged into the clearing that John Red Bear had first introduced me to in his earliest instruction. Of course, I had since planted the seed that had grown into the massive black tree that now stood sentinel in the middle of the clearing.
Its massive, gnarled trunk would have required the interlocked arms of ten men to cover its entire circumference. Its enormous crown of leaves whispered in the breezes of this place, sometimes forming words that could be understood when the tree wanted to be understood, but the strangest thing about those leaves was their color. The top side of each leaf was black as the darkest, moonless night, while the bottom side of each leaf was milky white. I had found fallen leaves with the faces of people I knew etched on the white sides. The thick, gnarled root clusters spread from the trunk of the tree in every direction rising up high enough in more than one place to become impromptu benches where I, and others, could sit under the canopy. On the far side of the trunk there was a small, dark opening where the roots of tree parted to reveal a stairwell down to a cavern where a reflecting pool had formed. That part was always the same, the cavern was always on the opposite side of the tree from where I entered the clearing, no matter which direction I came from.
Sitting on its haunches amidst the roots near the trunk of the tree was the brown form of an enormous bear, a bear with a splotch of red fur on its front, left shoulder.
“John? Is that you old friend?” I almost ran as I called out towards the creature.
The massive head of the creature turned to face me, its mouth curling into a snarl that become a smile as his form shifted from that of the bear to a near-human form the glowed with an internal radiance. John raised his right hand in greeting as I approached.
“Jason!” He looked around him, pointedly glancing at the tree trunk and the canopy of black and white rustling leaves. “I see that you have seen fit to redecorate our old meeting place. I must say that I’m rather impressed.”
I reached out to take hold of his glowing hand in mine, noting the stark contrast of light and darkness as he pulled me into a fierce hug.
I shrugged as we pulled apart. “I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.”
He laughed. His smiling face was now free of the lines of premature aging that had once marked it. “That is not unusual in this place. Take care in this place, for all actions taken here are likely to bring about consequences that you didn’t intend.”
“Yeah, so I’ve noticed. Now instead of a quiet place of contemplation, I get a grumpy tree that likes to laugh at me and gives all sorts of cryptic advice.”
The rustling of the leaves grew louder, as if in complaint at my characterization of it, but nothing intelligible was discernible. Probably just as well.
“The Tree is a reflection of its creator, Jason. There is much for you to learn from it, however.” He pointed to a cluster of roots that was tall and long enough for both of us to easily sit. “But I called you here today to speak about other things.”
“So it was you who called to me!”
He nodded. “I have wanted to speak with you for a long time now, but I haven’t been able to get back to this place until now.”
“I would have thought that you travels through the many worlds would have taken you far from this place, John. Frankly, I’m surprised that you’ve come back at all. I’m glad you have though, because I’ve missed our lessons.”
He nodded as he looked directly into my own eyes. I felt as if he could see everything about who and what I had become since we had last spoken. I wanted to tell him about it, but speaking seemed so frivolous, so unnecessary.
“Jason, I can see that you have become far more than I ever could have imagined. I have watched as you have battled first to regain your humanity and then to become…more than human. I cried when I saw you fall to that foul creature of darkness beneath New York.
“I rejoiced to see you return and come to grips with the changes that were brought about by that experience. I wanted so badly to warn you from trying to free the creature that you know as Dracaar, but I was not permitted to interfere.”
“What do you mean that you weren’t permitted? If I had really known what it was that we were trying to do, what it was that was being freed from that damn urn, I would have taken it far, far away from our world and left it to rot.”
A single glistening, radiant tear fell down his right cheek. “I know, Jason. But as I said, I was not allowed to interfere, to help you in any way at that time.” He held up a hand to stay my next question. “I cannot discuss who prevented me, or I why I wasn’t allowed to help. It must suffice for me to say that I was simply not permitted to intervene. What is important is that the deed has been done and that it cannot, now, be undone.
“Dracaar was going to be released, by you or someone else, but it was critical for you know this new foe and for you to have access to information that would allow you and your allies to have a chance to face him and his ilk. It was crucial for you to see the nature of your true enemies.”
“Well, I’ve certainly seen that these damn creatures need to be defeated. But I have no clue how I am to do it. I had trouble facing one of their damn servants!”
He looked down at the mass of roots spread out beneath us. “Yes, the doppelganger in South Beach. You did better with the second one, but you were right in your assessment that the one in Detroit was weaker. You have made yourself known with that killing. The An’girasii will not take the slaying of one of their valuable servants lightly. That is one of the reasons I called you here.”
“Are you going to give me some clues as to how to kill these things?”
He shook his head at that. “No, that touches on other things of which I am not permitted to speak. However, I can tell you that have access to all of the clues that will lead you to find a way to stave off defeat at their hands, if only temporarily.” He reached out and touched me on the chest with his right hand and then waved up at the canopy of leaves and the tree trunk behind us. “Just as you carried within you the seed to plant this magnificent tree, your seed has been used to give birth to the one person who can bring about the final defeat of the An’girasii.”
I sat back. “Alexa?”
He nodded. “Yes. Only she can now bring about their total defeat, though the costs may be higher than even she may be able to bear. But while only Alexa can trigger the keys to final victory over the An’girasii and their minions, she will never be permitted that chance unless you and the ORC’s first find those keys and get them to her, all while protecting her from them.”
I shook my own head. “How can the fate of the world rest in the hands of toddler? How can all that pressure rest on the head and shoulders of any one person period?”
He raised his hand to stop my questions. “It has taken extreme efforts over many millennia by secret allies that I cannot reveal to bring about this one chance.”
“You mean there are ‘secret allies’ out there that have been running this show? Why can’t these assholes, whoever the Hell they are, step in give us some real damn assistance? John, can’t you help me to understand this?”
A second tear rolled down his cheek. “I can only say that there are Laws that prevent these allies from providing any of the direct assistance that you are asking for.”
I threw up my hands. “What the Hell is it with all of these damn ‘laws’? I was a cop and am now and FBI agent. I don’t know of any damn ‘laws’ that would affect this shit! Drake keeps talking about ‘laws’ that the An’girasii have to live by, and that damn elf queen, the Lady of the Lake or whatever the Hell she was, mentioned stuff about ‘laws’ too.”
He laid a hand on my leg. “Jason. I know this all seems so foreign and strange to you now. When I was alive, I was not aware of any of this myself. It is only in the traveling that I have done since my death, and the knowledge that I have gained in those travels, that has given me the perspective I now have. Please understand that the people you have just mentioned have already provided you some of the clues that you will need in order to have a chance at helping Alexa succeed in achieving her mission. Drake is with you for a reason. He holds answers that no one else possesses about the An’girasii.” He brought his hand to tap me on the chest. “Drake has answers about who, and what, you have become. Listen for those clues in what he has to say and perhaps you will find the strength to do what must be done.”
He looked away from me as I sat in stunned silence.
“You have time yet, to seek those clues. The An’girasii are just beginning to emerge again and will take some time yet to gather their strength. They have yet to understand your true significance and the significance of Alexa. Luckily, they also have a disdain for human technology and methods of communication or the telling of this story as you have been until now could be disastrous.”
“Oh shit. Should I stop blogging about this stuff?”
John shook his head again and looked me in the eyes. “No. It is part of what keeps you in touch with your humanity. And it is that which will enable you to face the coming challenges with a chance to succeed. If you lose touch with your humanity, then all hope is lost.”
John stood up. The glow within him grew brighter, his body more translucent. “Jason, I must take my leave.”
I stood up as well. “Will I see you again, John?”
His face looked very somber. “Perhaps. If given the opportunity, I will gladly visit with you again, but that may not be for me to decide.”
I reached out to touch him as his body continued to grow brighter and more transparent. He took my hand in a grasp that was warm and strong. I could feel energy flowing from him as it entered into my own Spirit, filling me with joy and peace as he flashed brighter and faded away.
The whispering of the leaves reflected a sadness that I shared as I sat down again to think on all that was said.
Drake's Tale--#3
It appears that my rather unreliable ‘host’ has finally permitted me to tell my story again. Given his track record, I am going to make the most of this opportunity. Please pardon the length of this post, but this information that will be needed if he and his allies are to have even a prayer of success in this endeavor.
Some of this tale has been mentioned previously, although others have spun the tale to suit their needs, instead of mine. You may rest assured that what I have to say is in fact The Truth.
In my youth, I was seen as the defective child. I had no visible manifestation of the power of the An’girasii running through me like Sorud and Nehmad did. In addition to their powers, they also had the physical stature that allowed them to dominate the normal humans around them, while I was seen as small even by the standards of the people of my home city of Ur.
When it was established that I would never grow out of my puny stature, I was ignored by my father. He also ordered my brothers to ignore me as well, stating that I was not worth their time or attention.
So as my brothers were personally tutored by Dracaar in how to harness their abilities and in the arts of war, I was left to my own devices. I spent my time learning how to be come invisible. I was not invisible in any kind of magickal sense, mind you, but invisible in the way that servants and slaves are invisible around their masters. Such folk are taught early on to keep to the sides, remain silent unless spoken to, and to be properly deferential at all times, head bowed, as they move from task to task, always keeping busy with some little task or another. Following those guidelines, slaves can slip in and out of the most private moments of their masters without being consciously noticed.
It was during a number of those private moments between Dracaar and my brothers that I learned of the true nature of the An’girasii. He spoke to them at such times in the harsh, foreign tongue of the An’girasii, a language I had heard previously only in my dreams, but I found that I somehow understood what was being said.
As I listened to him tell the stories of Creation and Destruction from the An’girasii perspective, I began to understand that Dracaar was not alone, but was instead one of at least several dozen other such beings who had come to this world with the goal to rule over it as gods.
Indeed, many of the names of other such entities that Dracaar told my brothers about, were names of myth and legend that the people of Ur worshipped as Gods, or feared as Demons.
Here is a snippet of one particularly interesting lesson:
Sorud: “Father, these people are so weak! Why must we live among them as we do? Why can’t we set ourselves apart as some of the others have done and just be worshipped as is our right?”
Dracaar: “That is a very good question, son. Each of the others, including Tiamat, has lived amongst these weak humans just as we ourselves are doing now. In other worlds, other places, we have come and conquered or ruled without having to live amongst the lesser beings that inhabit those places, however this world, this place is different. This is a world of flesh and bone. In order for our full powers to manifest here in this place, we must be born of flesh to a creature that is native to this place. That is why your mother, as strong as she is, is still human.”
Nehmad: “Is that why Sorud and I have to train so hard to come into our full strength, because we were born of a human mother?”
Dracaar: “Indeed. It is no small or easy thing, even for the Spirit of an An’girasii to access its full array of powers and memories once it is born into the flesh, as you two have so recently been. There is something about this world and the laws that bind it that prevents almost all Spirits, even those of us who are so much stronger than humans, from having access to the full knowledge of who and what they truly are.”
Sorud: “So both Nehmad and I are of the same order as you?”
Dracaar: “Yes. Both of you are strong An’girasii Spirits. Once you have learned how to fully manifest yourselves, you will come to realize your true nature and take your rightful place amongst us.”
Nehmad: “Father, what of our younger brother…”
Dracaar: “Shush Nehmad. His name is not to be spoken of in our language. His Spirit is weak and puny. He is not of our kind. Something went terribly wrong with him. Your mother’s human weakness must have allowed for a lesser Spirit to come during our coupling. He is not your brother. He is a human.” That last word was spit out like it was an insult.
Sorud: “So why was it allowed to live? Why don’t we kill him so that our name is not associated with something so weak?”
Dracaar: He laughed before responding, a deep, chilling laugh. “Ah Sorud, you are coming into your own. It will not be long now before you Awaken to your true self. But let me answer this question. When a child is first born, the connection between the Spirit and the flesh is not as strong as it will become over time. It is not immediately apparent with young babies in this world just what kind of Spirit has attached itself to body of the baby. For that reason, some patience is required. When that child was born, the body was small and puny, but the Spirit was strong and bright. I had great hopes that one of my ancient brethren had come through the Veil that separates our native world from this one. But while his Spirit showed strength and vitality for an infant, it never developed beyond the initial promise that he had showed. Instead, as he grew into childhood, his Spirit seemed to diminish even further, changing in ways that I had never before seen, even for a human. Once it was clear to me that he was not one of us, I resolved to study him for my own purposes. Once I have learned all that I can from him, he shall be sent to his death.”
Nehmad: “Will you give him to us, father? Can we slay him?”
Dracaar: “No. That is something that I cannot risk. As much as I believe that he is not of the An’girasii, there are laws that may not be broken. His death will have to be at the hands of others. Have no fear. There are no laws of any consequence that prevent humans from killing each other. In fact, it is something that humans are very good at. They can be made to kill each other with very little incentive.”
Sorud: “What laws prevent us from killing each other, father?”
Dracaar: “When you come through your Awakening, these things will be known to you. But it is good to discuss them now so that you don’t violate the law unwittingly. You must never slay another An’girasii.”
Sorud: “Why not? Haven’t you been teaching us that we are Immortal spirits, that if this body is slain that we will be able to take over another at our leisure?”
Dracaar: “Yes. All of that is true. But if you have not gone through your Awakening, you will have to be born again into the body of another human child. Once you have been Awakened, you will have the ability to take on the body of any living creature near you and modify that one to suit your needs. However, if one An’girasii slays another, things are different. A struggle between two of us not merely a struggle of flesh of bone, but of Power and Spirit as well. We are a primal race. If one An’girasii were to slay another, terrible things happen, the Spirits of both entities merge and change, becoming something dark and chaotic. The name we have for those creatures that survive such an event the Drashe’en—the Fallen. If you fail to honor the law and become Drashe’en, there is no return. There is only hunger and pain, suffering and loss.”
Nehmad: “Are there Drashe’en here in this world?”
Dracaar: “Yes. There are a few. We must always keep a vigilant eye out for them, for they are among the greatest dangers we face.”
Sorud: “How can the Drashe’en be stopped then, father? Can we slay them without suffering the same fate?”
Dracaar: “There are ways of dealing with the Drashe’en, but you will not be able to understand them until you have gone through your Awakening. Now, let us go train with our weapons, soon it will be time to test you in battle.”
Some of this tale has been mentioned previously, although others have spun the tale to suit their needs, instead of mine. You may rest assured that what I have to say is in fact The Truth.
In my youth, I was seen as the defective child. I had no visible manifestation of the power of the An’girasii running through me like Sorud and Nehmad did. In addition to their powers, they also had the physical stature that allowed them to dominate the normal humans around them, while I was seen as small even by the standards of the people of my home city of Ur.
When it was established that I would never grow out of my puny stature, I was ignored by my father. He also ordered my brothers to ignore me as well, stating that I was not worth their time or attention.
So as my brothers were personally tutored by Dracaar in how to harness their abilities and in the arts of war, I was left to my own devices. I spent my time learning how to be come invisible. I was not invisible in any kind of magickal sense, mind you, but invisible in the way that servants and slaves are invisible around their masters. Such folk are taught early on to keep to the sides, remain silent unless spoken to, and to be properly deferential at all times, head bowed, as they move from task to task, always keeping busy with some little task or another. Following those guidelines, slaves can slip in and out of the most private moments of their masters without being consciously noticed.
It was during a number of those private moments between Dracaar and my brothers that I learned of the true nature of the An’girasii. He spoke to them at such times in the harsh, foreign tongue of the An’girasii, a language I had heard previously only in my dreams, but I found that I somehow understood what was being said.
As I listened to him tell the stories of Creation and Destruction from the An’girasii perspective, I began to understand that Dracaar was not alone, but was instead one of at least several dozen other such beings who had come to this world with the goal to rule over it as gods.
Indeed, many of the names of other such entities that Dracaar told my brothers about, were names of myth and legend that the people of Ur worshipped as Gods, or feared as Demons.
Here is a snippet of one particularly interesting lesson:
Sorud: “Father, these people are so weak! Why must we live among them as we do? Why can’t we set ourselves apart as some of the others have done and just be worshipped as is our right?”
Dracaar: “That is a very good question, son. Each of the others, including Tiamat, has lived amongst these weak humans just as we ourselves are doing now. In other worlds, other places, we have come and conquered or ruled without having to live amongst the lesser beings that inhabit those places, however this world, this place is different. This is a world of flesh and bone. In order for our full powers to manifest here in this place, we must be born of flesh to a creature that is native to this place. That is why your mother, as strong as she is, is still human.”
Nehmad: “Is that why Sorud and I have to train so hard to come into our full strength, because we were born of a human mother?”
Dracaar: “Indeed. It is no small or easy thing, even for the Spirit of an An’girasii to access its full array of powers and memories once it is born into the flesh, as you two have so recently been. There is something about this world and the laws that bind it that prevents almost all Spirits, even those of us who are so much stronger than humans, from having access to the full knowledge of who and what they truly are.”
Sorud: “So both Nehmad and I are of the same order as you?”
Dracaar: “Yes. Both of you are strong An’girasii Spirits. Once you have learned how to fully manifest yourselves, you will come to realize your true nature and take your rightful place amongst us.”
Nehmad: “Father, what of our younger brother…”
Dracaar: “Shush Nehmad. His name is not to be spoken of in our language. His Spirit is weak and puny. He is not of our kind. Something went terribly wrong with him. Your mother’s human weakness must have allowed for a lesser Spirit to come during our coupling. He is not your brother. He is a human.” That last word was spit out like it was an insult.
Sorud: “So why was it allowed to live? Why don’t we kill him so that our name is not associated with something so weak?”
Dracaar: He laughed before responding, a deep, chilling laugh. “Ah Sorud, you are coming into your own. It will not be long now before you Awaken to your true self. But let me answer this question. When a child is first born, the connection between the Spirit and the flesh is not as strong as it will become over time. It is not immediately apparent with young babies in this world just what kind of Spirit has attached itself to body of the baby. For that reason, some patience is required. When that child was born, the body was small and puny, but the Spirit was strong and bright. I had great hopes that one of my ancient brethren had come through the Veil that separates our native world from this one. But while his Spirit showed strength and vitality for an infant, it never developed beyond the initial promise that he had showed. Instead, as he grew into childhood, his Spirit seemed to diminish even further, changing in ways that I had never before seen, even for a human. Once it was clear to me that he was not one of us, I resolved to study him for my own purposes. Once I have learned all that I can from him, he shall be sent to his death.”
Nehmad: “Will you give him to us, father? Can we slay him?”
Dracaar: “No. That is something that I cannot risk. As much as I believe that he is not of the An’girasii, there are laws that may not be broken. His death will have to be at the hands of others. Have no fear. There are no laws of any consequence that prevent humans from killing each other. In fact, it is something that humans are very good at. They can be made to kill each other with very little incentive.”
Sorud: “What laws prevent us from killing each other, father?”
Dracaar: “When you come through your Awakening, these things will be known to you. But it is good to discuss them now so that you don’t violate the law unwittingly. You must never slay another An’girasii.”
Sorud: “Why not? Haven’t you been teaching us that we are Immortal spirits, that if this body is slain that we will be able to take over another at our leisure?”
Dracaar: “Yes. All of that is true. But if you have not gone through your Awakening, you will have to be born again into the body of another human child. Once you have been Awakened, you will have the ability to take on the body of any living creature near you and modify that one to suit your needs. However, if one An’girasii slays another, things are different. A struggle between two of us not merely a struggle of flesh of bone, but of Power and Spirit as well. We are a primal race. If one An’girasii were to slay another, terrible things happen, the Spirits of both entities merge and change, becoming something dark and chaotic. The name we have for those creatures that survive such an event the Drashe’en—the Fallen. If you fail to honor the law and become Drashe’en, there is no return. There is only hunger and pain, suffering and loss.”
Nehmad: “Are there Drashe’en here in this world?”
Dracaar: “Yes. There are a few. We must always keep a vigilant eye out for them, for they are among the greatest dangers we face.”
Sorud: “How can the Drashe’en be stopped then, father? Can we slay them without suffering the same fate?”
Dracaar: “There are ways of dealing with the Drashe’en, but you will not be able to understand them until you have gone through your Awakening. Now, let us go train with our weapons, soon it will be time to test you in battle.”
Monday, March 12, 2007
The Shadow
Dancing between Light and Dark, it is neither Life nor Death, but the thin line between.
Illusory
Ever present
Hollow
Ordinary
Fleet
The flitting Shadow beckons, always near, yet never to be caught.
Hovering amongst Dreams and Nightmares, stoking Hope and fueling Fear.
Dangerous
Simple
Silent
Mysterious
Ambivalent
The Shadow serves, but the wary Master guards against deceit.
Doubting both Faith and Reason, it harbors neither Love nor Hate.
Lonely
Voracious
Irksome
Magnificent
Fractious
The Shadow seeks those that Tremble and breaks those who Dare.
Illusory
Ever present
Hollow
Ordinary
Fleet
The flitting Shadow beckons, always near, yet never to be caught.
Hovering amongst Dreams and Nightmares, stoking Hope and fueling Fear.
Dangerous
Simple
Silent
Mysterious
Ambivalent
The Shadow serves, but the wary Master guards against deceit.
Doubting both Faith and Reason, it harbors neither Love nor Hate.
Lonely
Voracious
Irksome
Magnificent
Fractious
The Shadow seeks those that Tremble and breaks those who Dare.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
I, Zombie
I am Rusty Bones.
I am a being of the Shadow.
I walk between Light and Dark. I am of neither, at home with both.
My body is that of a zombie, of flesh and bone that once lived, of machine and magick that brought it back. My Spirit is free, though once it was trapped.
I gather the Shadow as my Mantle, my Shroud, so that I may stand vigil over the innocent.
I am Death incarnate.
I am Rusty Bones.
I am a being of the Shadow.
I walk between Light and Dark. I am of neither, at home with both.
My body is that of a zombie, of flesh and bone that once lived, of machine and magick that brought it back. My Spirit is free, though once it was trapped.
I gather the Shadow as my Mantle, my Shroud, so that I may stand vigil over the innocent.
I am Death incarnate.
I am Rusty Bones.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Enemies Mine...The Clean-up
As soon as Papa Locks’ portal closed up, a collective sigh of relief was released by my three companions.
Jim’s face turned a pale shade of green as he looked about the room for a garbage can. When he spotted it, he grabbed the thing and hobbled out of the room, mumbling something about coming back in a few minutes.
Ravyn shot a look of concern Jim’s way, but decided that he preferred to be alone, so she pulled out a chair and sat down. “I can’t believe that Papa Locks is back! How did they manage that? Cerrydwen is not going to be happy at all when she learns about this.”
I grabbed the head of the doppelganger from where I had last placed it and then walked over to where the hand was laying on the floor. I knelt down to pick that up as well. “You know, I don’t know why I didn’t think of the possibility of his return previously. He was a very powerful priest in his own right, and it just makes sense that they would have taken some sort of precautions to be able to bring themselves back from the dead if they were going to do it for the local cops like me who they had snared into the Project.”
Zenny reached down to the table and picked up the Soulscope that she had placed on it to show El Diablito. “Rusty, it seemed like you were the only one in the room who knew what was going on. This encounter didn’t go anything like we expected. How did you know they would back down like that?”
I shook my head as I dropped the head and the hand of the doppelganger next to the main carcass. “I had no idea that Papa Locks would be here, or even that Chandler was a doppelganger until he led us out of that elevator. Something about the way he moved and the way he noticed me looking at him in the Shadowland reminded me of the doppelganger on South Beach, although I don’t think this one was as strong as the other one. As to knowing that they would back down like that, I didn’t. Once I saw how shocked they were that Chandler wasn’t who he said he was, I took the bit in my mouth and bluffed like I had never bluffed before.”
Zenny cocked her head. “Bluffed? What does that mean?”
I grinned. “It is sort of like pretending to be in stronger position than you really are. It is something you do a lot in a casino like this. I used to play a lot of poker when I was alive.”
Slightly less green about the gills than he was, Jim limped back into the room, making a point of not looking at the still smoldering body on the floor. “Well from what I saw Rusty, you might have a future in playing poker again. I was pretty impressed by how you handled that after the surprise of the…creature.”
Ravyn got up impatiently and walked over to Jim, showing him to a seat where the body wasn’t in view. “So how could you tell that the butler was a doppelganger Rusty? If these things serve the An’girasii, then we are going to need to know how to spot them in the future. You won’t always be around to deal with them for us.”
“Well, first I noticed how calm the guy was down in the lobby when he was waiting for us. He seemed to be keeping himself supernaturally still, and then kind of came alive when he noticed us approaching. I’m sure Chandler was a very good butler, someone who had a cool, calm demeanor, but I don’t know too many humans who can keep themselves that calm.
“Second, in the elevator, I noticed how he moved. The first doppelganger that I met in South Beach was super fast. It moved way faster than I ever could, unless I was using magick of some sort to enhance my speed. In the elevator, the butler moved with such speed and grace that I began to have my doubts at that point. That’s when I slipped into the Shadowland to take a glance at his Spirit form. His Spirit form reflected a sense of power and calmness that I didn’t quite think was appropriate for a human. What sealed the deal though was when he gave me a slight nod of acknowledge in the Shadowland, like he sensed me looking at him there. I have yet to meet a normal human being who can sense things simultaneously in both the physical world and the Shadowland and distinguish between the two places. I knew then that he was either a very powerful Caster or something else.
“The final straw was when he exited the elevator and didn’t touch anyone as he slipped past all of us to get ahead again. That was simply inhuman. I’m betting that at least some of these creatures only have the power to fool human sight, but not the sense of touch. I think the doppelganger in South Beach was stronger, that it could fool other senses, but not this one. That’s probably why he chose to impersonate a servant who would not be required to get that close to anyone else—he had a reason to keep his distance from other people.
“It will be very hard to distinguish these creatures from the people they are trying to impersonate. Agent Wilson and her crew will be taking the body back to Quantico and conducting an autopsy of it in the hopes of discovering some of their secrets.”
Agent Jennifer Wilson walked through door to the room just as I mentioned her name. She was followed by several agents in bio-hazard suits, two of whom were carrying a stretcher sheathed in a plastic of some sort.
She glanced at the corpse on the floor, wrinkled her nose at the smell of things and started giving orders to her team to gather up the body. A second crew followed the first, this crew pushing a cart with all sorts of bottles filled with liquid and various cleaning tools. She put those folks to work cleaning up all of the droplets and puddles of liquid that I had helped to create.
“I want this room roped off until we’ve got the task done. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get this done in good time.”
Once she had finished giving her orders and the body had been flipped onto the stretcher and the other parts collected and covered, Agent Wilson let her guard down a bit as she gave Ravyn a big hug. “It’s been too long Mistress Fyre.”
“Oh, stop that. Call me Ravyn. You aren’t my student any longer. So you’re leading a team now, I see.”
Agent Wilson stood slightly taller than the diminutive Ravyn, but it was almost like she still looked up to her. “Yeah, this team was Rusty’s idea, actually. He pulled some strings at HQ to let me form a special response team. Each of the team members has some measure of Talent that most of them were unaware of until I tested them using those techniques you had taught me back at the Coop. I’ve been bringing them along slowly, showing them evidence from our files that had been previously disregarded as unexplainable or as anomalies. I was just about to give you a call actually, before Rusty gave me the heads-up to show up here with the team.”
“Oh, what about?”
“I was wondering if we could set up a sort of intern program with you at the Coop. I’d like some of these agents to really hone the Talents they have, some of them could become decent Casters, if they had the training. It might also help you out to have a couple of agents in residence, in case more creatures like this thing come calling.”
I walked over to them. “That sounds like a good idea, actually. By the way Jennifer, what have you decided to call the team?”
She grinned and looked down at her feet sheepishly. “Zulu recommended that I call it the Omega Team.”
That brought a groan from my lips. “It figures. Well, why not use the designation for something positive?”
Jim stood up now that the body had been removed. He was close to his normal color again. “Well, that might be a good idea for the Coop. However, I would have to see whether or not we could increase the budget to allow for the extra expenses.”
Jennifer shook her head. “No worries there, Sir. If Ravyn agrees to host the agents, I’ve been given the green light to authorize a per diem expense at the going rate for the Chicago area for their living expenses, which should more than cover any expenses incurred by the extra agents in residence.”
Jim nodded. “Yeah, I think you are right. I don’t have any objection then. Do you, Ravyn?”
Ravyn shrugged. “I have no objection, so long as they know who the boss around there is! They can’t be any worse than this dumb zombie of ours is!”
Jim’s face turned a pale shade of green as he looked about the room for a garbage can. When he spotted it, he grabbed the thing and hobbled out of the room, mumbling something about coming back in a few minutes.
Ravyn shot a look of concern Jim’s way, but decided that he preferred to be alone, so she pulled out a chair and sat down. “I can’t believe that Papa Locks is back! How did they manage that? Cerrydwen is not going to be happy at all when she learns about this.”
I grabbed the head of the doppelganger from where I had last placed it and then walked over to where the hand was laying on the floor. I knelt down to pick that up as well. “You know, I don’t know why I didn’t think of the possibility of his return previously. He was a very powerful priest in his own right, and it just makes sense that they would have taken some sort of precautions to be able to bring themselves back from the dead if they were going to do it for the local cops like me who they had snared into the Project.”
Zenny reached down to the table and picked up the Soulscope that she had placed on it to show El Diablito. “Rusty, it seemed like you were the only one in the room who knew what was going on. This encounter didn’t go anything like we expected. How did you know they would back down like that?”
I shook my head as I dropped the head and the hand of the doppelganger next to the main carcass. “I had no idea that Papa Locks would be here, or even that Chandler was a doppelganger until he led us out of that elevator. Something about the way he moved and the way he noticed me looking at him in the Shadowland reminded me of the doppelganger on South Beach, although I don’t think this one was as strong as the other one. As to knowing that they would back down like that, I didn’t. Once I saw how shocked they were that Chandler wasn’t who he said he was, I took the bit in my mouth and bluffed like I had never bluffed before.”
Zenny cocked her head. “Bluffed? What does that mean?”
I grinned. “It is sort of like pretending to be in stronger position than you really are. It is something you do a lot in a casino like this. I used to play a lot of poker when I was alive.”
Slightly less green about the gills than he was, Jim limped back into the room, making a point of not looking at the still smoldering body on the floor. “Well from what I saw Rusty, you might have a future in playing poker again. I was pretty impressed by how you handled that after the surprise of the…creature.”
Ravyn got up impatiently and walked over to Jim, showing him to a seat where the body wasn’t in view. “So how could you tell that the butler was a doppelganger Rusty? If these things serve the An’girasii, then we are going to need to know how to spot them in the future. You won’t always be around to deal with them for us.”
“Well, first I noticed how calm the guy was down in the lobby when he was waiting for us. He seemed to be keeping himself supernaturally still, and then kind of came alive when he noticed us approaching. I’m sure Chandler was a very good butler, someone who had a cool, calm demeanor, but I don’t know too many humans who can keep themselves that calm.
“Second, in the elevator, I noticed how he moved. The first doppelganger that I met in South Beach was super fast. It moved way faster than I ever could, unless I was using magick of some sort to enhance my speed. In the elevator, the butler moved with such speed and grace that I began to have my doubts at that point. That’s when I slipped into the Shadowland to take a glance at his Spirit form. His Spirit form reflected a sense of power and calmness that I didn’t quite think was appropriate for a human. What sealed the deal though was when he gave me a slight nod of acknowledge in the Shadowland, like he sensed me looking at him there. I have yet to meet a normal human being who can sense things simultaneously in both the physical world and the Shadowland and distinguish between the two places. I knew then that he was either a very powerful Caster or something else.
“The final straw was when he exited the elevator and didn’t touch anyone as he slipped past all of us to get ahead again. That was simply inhuman. I’m betting that at least some of these creatures only have the power to fool human sight, but not the sense of touch. I think the doppelganger in South Beach was stronger, that it could fool other senses, but not this one. That’s probably why he chose to impersonate a servant who would not be required to get that close to anyone else—he had a reason to keep his distance from other people.
“It will be very hard to distinguish these creatures from the people they are trying to impersonate. Agent Wilson and her crew will be taking the body back to Quantico and conducting an autopsy of it in the hopes of discovering some of their secrets.”
Agent Jennifer Wilson walked through door to the room just as I mentioned her name. She was followed by several agents in bio-hazard suits, two of whom were carrying a stretcher sheathed in a plastic of some sort.
She glanced at the corpse on the floor, wrinkled her nose at the smell of things and started giving orders to her team to gather up the body. A second crew followed the first, this crew pushing a cart with all sorts of bottles filled with liquid and various cleaning tools. She put those folks to work cleaning up all of the droplets and puddles of liquid that I had helped to create.
“I want this room roped off until we’ve got the task done. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get this done in good time.”
Once she had finished giving her orders and the body had been flipped onto the stretcher and the other parts collected and covered, Agent Wilson let her guard down a bit as she gave Ravyn a big hug. “It’s been too long Mistress Fyre.”
“Oh, stop that. Call me Ravyn. You aren’t my student any longer. So you’re leading a team now, I see.”
Agent Wilson stood slightly taller than the diminutive Ravyn, but it was almost like she still looked up to her. “Yeah, this team was Rusty’s idea, actually. He pulled some strings at HQ to let me form a special response team. Each of the team members has some measure of Talent that most of them were unaware of until I tested them using those techniques you had taught me back at the Coop. I’ve been bringing them along slowly, showing them evidence from our files that had been previously disregarded as unexplainable or as anomalies. I was just about to give you a call actually, before Rusty gave me the heads-up to show up here with the team.”
“Oh, what about?”
“I was wondering if we could set up a sort of intern program with you at the Coop. I’d like some of these agents to really hone the Talents they have, some of them could become decent Casters, if they had the training. It might also help you out to have a couple of agents in residence, in case more creatures like this thing come calling.”
I walked over to them. “That sounds like a good idea, actually. By the way Jennifer, what have you decided to call the team?”
She grinned and looked down at her feet sheepishly. “Zulu recommended that I call it the Omega Team.”
That brought a groan from my lips. “It figures. Well, why not use the designation for something positive?”
Jim stood up now that the body had been removed. He was close to his normal color again. “Well, that might be a good idea for the Coop. However, I would have to see whether or not we could increase the budget to allow for the extra expenses.”
Jennifer shook her head. “No worries there, Sir. If Ravyn agrees to host the agents, I’ve been given the green light to authorize a per diem expense at the going rate for the Chicago area for their living expenses, which should more than cover any expenses incurred by the extra agents in residence.”
Jim nodded. “Yeah, I think you are right. I don’t have any objection then. Do you, Ravyn?”
Ravyn shrugged. “I have no objection, so long as they know who the boss around there is! They can’t be any worse than this dumb zombie of ours is!”
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Enemies Mine...Part 5
El Diablito’s eyes narrowed and his voice took on a harder edge as he looked from the red-faced Ravyn to Zenny. “Speaking of pets, is this Bernstein’s little pet? I’ve heard and read so much about her. I must say, I can see what drove him to distraction.”
Zenny stepped up from behind me, her own face a mask a barely hidden pain. “I am no one’s pet, you butcher. Your words cannot harm me any worse than others have already done with their deeds. I have found something you probably wish had remained lost to the sands of time.” She reached into a pocket and drew out the Soulscope. She placed it on the table with the stark Nazi swastika facing up.
El Diablito sat back in obvious shock. “Wherever did you find that?”
I moved forward to the edge of the conference table, placing both hands on the edge and leaning onto it. “Let’s just say that we’ve been digging into your past, Dr. Klimm, and we’re not done yet.”
Dick Arnold finally recovered enough of his wits about him to glance up from the head of the doppelganger that still sat directly in front of him to El Diablito. “Lito, why do these crazy people keep calling you by this other name? Who is Dr. Klimm?”
The Professor finally made his way past the smoking corpse of the doppelganger, moving to Ravyn’s left side. He plopped his backpack on the table, reached in and pulled out a plain manila folder, less than half an inch thick. He tossed the folder to land just to the left of the head and its small pool of sizzling black liquid, on the other side of the head from El Diablito.
“Mr. Arnold, in that folder, you will find copies of the evidence to show that the man sitting at your side was previously known as Juergen Klimm, a German scientist during Hitler’s Third Reich. He is a wanted war criminal. The photos and articles inside that folder should be all the proof that you need that the man you have listed as D. B. Lito in all of your SEC filings for Bone Financial and the Mercury-Unlimited Group is a known and wanted war criminal. This information has not yet been made public, but additional copies of that folder are safely in the hands of those who will ensure that every major newspaper in America will have this information if anything should happen to us tonight. I don’t think your stock holders and investors will like the idea that the man known as the Zombie King in Nazi Germany is up to some of his old tricks with their money.”
El Diablito had recovered from his shock, his face taking on the expression of someone who was thinking hard to come up solutions to an unexpected problem.
During this whole exchange, Papa Locks had stood motionless between and slightly behind both of the sitting men. His arms were crossed, his face still obscured by the enormous hood of the cloak.
Dick Arnold’s expression became one of a businessman engaged in a serious negotiation. He licked his thin lips, intertwined his fingers and looked from the folder, still untouched, back up to Jim.
“So, what is it that you want from us? You obviously could have gone public with this information, but have chosen not to use it yet. Why not?”
That was my cue. I stood up straight again and nodded in El Diablito’s direction while looking Dick Arnold directly in the eyes. “We know who you have working for you.” I glanced up at Papa Locks. “And what you have been doing with his knowledge and expertise. We also know that Dr. Klimm here is building an organization of Caster’s of questionable ethics and character.” I strode down the length of the long table until I approached where the two men were sitting.
The guards behind them nervously fingered their weapons, trying to decide if I was posing a threat to their charges.
I got close enough to Dick Arnold to reach down and palm the top of the head of the doppelganger. In the same motion I picked the head up, droplets of acidic black ichor trailing across the table as I did so.
“As much as we’d like to dedicate the time and resources to putting you and your little undead factories out of business, there are greater enemies out there right now.”
I turned the head of the doppelganger so that I look into its vacant eyes for a moment before turning its dead gaze back on the lesser foes sitting before me.
“This creature, this doppelganger, is but a minor servant of an enemy of all of humanity that sees Casters like Dr. Klimm and Ravyn as threats to be eliminated so that they can take control easier. They see beings like myself, and now apparently Papa Locks, as well as any other undead you dumbasses have managed to create as possible tools to taken and used and discarded at will.
“Dick, you were surprised to see that your longtime manservant, Grimes, was actually a monster in disguise. How long do you think you have been making your plans in front of that servant, not knowing that he served another more powerful master? How many other such spies are around you?”
I brandished the head, letting the little droplets spray around as I did so. “These creatures can take any damn form that they want to, shifting their bodies and their Spirits to match the forms of the person they are killing. They can take your voice, your mannerisms, and enough of your memories to pass as you so well that your own mama wouldn’t know the difference. How much longer do you think you would have lived if this doppelganger had decided that he wanted to be you, instead of your poor servant?”
Dick Arnold sat back and gulped at the thought.
I wasn’t done yet, however. “We agreed to come here tonight to see you in the hopes of getting you to pay attention to the real enemy that we all are facing right now. The An’girasii have been awakened. They are taking stock of the world and gathering their forces.”
I slammed the head back down on the table for emphasis. It landed with a thick, wet splat, droplets spraying all over. Arnold and his guards jerked back in reaction to the spray.
“Finally, we are here to give you warning.” I leaned down and picked up the folder, now splotched and smoldering in a couple of spots. “We don’t expect a lot of help in facing this enemy from the likes you and your cronies, but if we think for one minute that you have decided to throw your lot in with that enemy, or you hinder us in any way—everything that you have built up, your fortune, your reputation, and your companies will all be destroyed without mercy.”
I was looming over Dick Arnold now, his guard having shrunk back in fear at the way I was moving and carrying myself. “And, Dickie boy, I will hunt you down like the dog that you are, and there is not a damn thing you, or any of your servants and stooges will be able to do to stop me. Do I make myself clear?”
His mouth was moving up and down again, but no intelligible sounds were coming out of it.
I turned my attention to El Diablito. He was trying to glare back at me with defiance, but it came across more like petulance.
“You and I have some unfinished business, Klimm. If we both survive the coming struggle against Drake’s ancient foes, you will have much to answer for. I am looking forward to that day. In the meantime, you had better keep a civil tongue in your head, or I’ll make time to deal with you sooner rather than later.”
Finally, I looked straight up into the darkness created by the hood of Papa Locks cloak. He stood unmoving, unimpressed.
“I’m not sorry to see you back, Locks. Now I’ll have that chance to settle my own score with you. But that too, can wait for now.”
I stepped back and made a dismissive wave with my left arm. “I would recommend that you all take your leave now. A team of specially trained investigators and field agents from the FBI will be here shortly. I don’t think it will be a good idea for you to be here when they arrive. The body stays.”
Papa Locks nodded. “I have taken my measure of you anew, Bones. You have grown into your powers impressively.” His laugh rumbled forth from his body again. “I am looking forward to our next encounter, it shall be most interesting.” His hood shifted slightly as he looked down as El Diablito and then Dick Arnold. “Come, my little friends. We have seen and heard enough tonight.”
His skeletal right hand emerged from within his cloak and drew on the power of the Shadow to create a portal. The guards were the first to step through, then El Diablito, his lips pursed in thought. Dick Arnold reached down and took the folder that had been given to him before he too stepped through.
Papa Locks was the last one left. He glanced back in my direction and raised his left hand in either a salute or a challenge. “Until we meet again, Bones.”
Zenny stepped up from behind me, her own face a mask a barely hidden pain. “I am no one’s pet, you butcher. Your words cannot harm me any worse than others have already done with their deeds. I have found something you probably wish had remained lost to the sands of time.” She reached into a pocket and drew out the Soulscope. She placed it on the table with the stark Nazi swastika facing up.
El Diablito sat back in obvious shock. “Wherever did you find that?”
I moved forward to the edge of the conference table, placing both hands on the edge and leaning onto it. “Let’s just say that we’ve been digging into your past, Dr. Klimm, and we’re not done yet.”
Dick Arnold finally recovered enough of his wits about him to glance up from the head of the doppelganger that still sat directly in front of him to El Diablito. “Lito, why do these crazy people keep calling you by this other name? Who is Dr. Klimm?”
The Professor finally made his way past the smoking corpse of the doppelganger, moving to Ravyn’s left side. He plopped his backpack on the table, reached in and pulled out a plain manila folder, less than half an inch thick. He tossed the folder to land just to the left of the head and its small pool of sizzling black liquid, on the other side of the head from El Diablito.
“Mr. Arnold, in that folder, you will find copies of the evidence to show that the man sitting at your side was previously known as Juergen Klimm, a German scientist during Hitler’s Third Reich. He is a wanted war criminal. The photos and articles inside that folder should be all the proof that you need that the man you have listed as D. B. Lito in all of your SEC filings for Bone Financial and the Mercury-Unlimited Group is a known and wanted war criminal. This information has not yet been made public, but additional copies of that folder are safely in the hands of those who will ensure that every major newspaper in America will have this information if anything should happen to us tonight. I don’t think your stock holders and investors will like the idea that the man known as the Zombie King in Nazi Germany is up to some of his old tricks with their money.”
El Diablito had recovered from his shock, his face taking on the expression of someone who was thinking hard to come up solutions to an unexpected problem.
During this whole exchange, Papa Locks had stood motionless between and slightly behind both of the sitting men. His arms were crossed, his face still obscured by the enormous hood of the cloak.
Dick Arnold’s expression became one of a businessman engaged in a serious negotiation. He licked his thin lips, intertwined his fingers and looked from the folder, still untouched, back up to Jim.
“So, what is it that you want from us? You obviously could have gone public with this information, but have chosen not to use it yet. Why not?”
That was my cue. I stood up straight again and nodded in El Diablito’s direction while looking Dick Arnold directly in the eyes. “We know who you have working for you.” I glanced up at Papa Locks. “And what you have been doing with his knowledge and expertise. We also know that Dr. Klimm here is building an organization of Caster’s of questionable ethics and character.” I strode down the length of the long table until I approached where the two men were sitting.
The guards behind them nervously fingered their weapons, trying to decide if I was posing a threat to their charges.
I got close enough to Dick Arnold to reach down and palm the top of the head of the doppelganger. In the same motion I picked the head up, droplets of acidic black ichor trailing across the table as I did so.
“As much as we’d like to dedicate the time and resources to putting you and your little undead factories out of business, there are greater enemies out there right now.”
I turned the head of the doppelganger so that I look into its vacant eyes for a moment before turning its dead gaze back on the lesser foes sitting before me.
“This creature, this doppelganger, is but a minor servant of an enemy of all of humanity that sees Casters like Dr. Klimm and Ravyn as threats to be eliminated so that they can take control easier. They see beings like myself, and now apparently Papa Locks, as well as any other undead you dumbasses have managed to create as possible tools to taken and used and discarded at will.
“Dick, you were surprised to see that your longtime manservant, Grimes, was actually a monster in disguise. How long do you think you have been making your plans in front of that servant, not knowing that he served another more powerful master? How many other such spies are around you?”
I brandished the head, letting the little droplets spray around as I did so. “These creatures can take any damn form that they want to, shifting their bodies and their Spirits to match the forms of the person they are killing. They can take your voice, your mannerisms, and enough of your memories to pass as you so well that your own mama wouldn’t know the difference. How much longer do you think you would have lived if this doppelganger had decided that he wanted to be you, instead of your poor servant?”
Dick Arnold sat back and gulped at the thought.
I wasn’t done yet, however. “We agreed to come here tonight to see you in the hopes of getting you to pay attention to the real enemy that we all are facing right now. The An’girasii have been awakened. They are taking stock of the world and gathering their forces.”
I slammed the head back down on the table for emphasis. It landed with a thick, wet splat, droplets spraying all over. Arnold and his guards jerked back in reaction to the spray.
“Finally, we are here to give you warning.” I leaned down and picked up the folder, now splotched and smoldering in a couple of spots. “We don’t expect a lot of help in facing this enemy from the likes you and your cronies, but if we think for one minute that you have decided to throw your lot in with that enemy, or you hinder us in any way—everything that you have built up, your fortune, your reputation, and your companies will all be destroyed without mercy.”
I was looming over Dick Arnold now, his guard having shrunk back in fear at the way I was moving and carrying myself. “And, Dickie boy, I will hunt you down like the dog that you are, and there is not a damn thing you, or any of your servants and stooges will be able to do to stop me. Do I make myself clear?”
His mouth was moving up and down again, but no intelligible sounds were coming out of it.
I turned my attention to El Diablito. He was trying to glare back at me with defiance, but it came across more like petulance.
“You and I have some unfinished business, Klimm. If we both survive the coming struggle against Drake’s ancient foes, you will have much to answer for. I am looking forward to that day. In the meantime, you had better keep a civil tongue in your head, or I’ll make time to deal with you sooner rather than later.”
Finally, I looked straight up into the darkness created by the hood of Papa Locks cloak. He stood unmoving, unimpressed.
“I’m not sorry to see you back, Locks. Now I’ll have that chance to settle my own score with you. But that too, can wait for now.”
I stepped back and made a dismissive wave with my left arm. “I would recommend that you all take your leave now. A team of specially trained investigators and field agents from the FBI will be here shortly. I don’t think it will be a good idea for you to be here when they arrive. The body stays.”
Papa Locks nodded. “I have taken my measure of you anew, Bones. You have grown into your powers impressively.” His laugh rumbled forth from his body again. “I am looking forward to our next encounter, it shall be most interesting.” His hood shifted slightly as he looked down as El Diablito and then Dick Arnold. “Come, my little friends. We have seen and heard enough tonight.”
His skeletal right hand emerged from within his cloak and drew on the power of the Shadow to create a portal. The guards were the first to step through, then El Diablito, his lips pursed in thought. Dick Arnold reached down and took the folder that had been given to him before he too stepped through.
Papa Locks was the last one left. He glanced back in my direction and raised his left hand in either a salute or a challenge. “Until we meet again, Bones.”
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Enemies Mine...Part 4
I let the carcass fall to the ground and glanced at the blade. The black blood was now dry and flaking off. I gave the flat of the blade a hearty tap on the edge of the table and watched the rest of the stuff fall off in jagged flakes.
Everyone watched in silence as I guided the end of the blade back into its special sheath with my left hand, the weapon, sheath and all slipping into the Shadowland as it clicked into place. I raised my hands in a belated show of peaceful intentions.
“Let’s have everyone put away the weapons. I don’t see any need for more violence tonight.”
The guard on the right was the first to visibly relax. He rose from his kneeling position, moving the muzzle of his pistol away from me and towards the ceiling.
El Diablito settled back into his chair as he regained his composure, allowing his power to dissipate. “That was an impressive display, Rusty. How did you know that Grimes was an imposter?”
Dick Arnold was still staring in disbelief at the monstrous smoking head that had landing directly in front of him. Hearing the name of his missing manservant seemed to restore the ability to speak. “Grimes! What happened to my Grimes?”
The brooding figure of Papa Locks crossed his arms. “You’ve changed a great deal since the last time we met, Bones, but so have I.”
“Yeah, Locks, I seem to remember you being killed in Miami. May I presume that you are not just a spokesperson for Bone Financial, but a client as well?”
He didn’t respond.
Ravyn stepped over the fallen form of the doppelganger with a look of disgust. “You had better have a good reason for requesting this meeting, Dr. Klimm.” Her voice dripped with acid as she spoke his name.
El Diablito’s facial expression shifted from smug to shock back to smug within in microseconds. “Ah yes, I’ve enjoyed our duels, young lady. But I am less than fond of your pet bird, I must say.” He rubbed his hands together as he spoke.
Everyone watched in silence as I guided the end of the blade back into its special sheath with my left hand, the weapon, sheath and all slipping into the Shadowland as it clicked into place. I raised my hands in a belated show of peaceful intentions.
“Let’s have everyone put away the weapons. I don’t see any need for more violence tonight.”
The guard on the right was the first to visibly relax. He rose from his kneeling position, moving the muzzle of his pistol away from me and towards the ceiling.
El Diablito settled back into his chair as he regained his composure, allowing his power to dissipate. “That was an impressive display, Rusty. How did you know that Grimes was an imposter?”
Dick Arnold was still staring in disbelief at the monstrous smoking head that had landing directly in front of him. Hearing the name of his missing manservant seemed to restore the ability to speak. “Grimes! What happened to my Grimes?”
The brooding figure of Papa Locks crossed his arms. “You’ve changed a great deal since the last time we met, Bones, but so have I.”
“Yeah, Locks, I seem to remember you being killed in Miami. May I presume that you are not just a spokesperson for Bone Financial, but a client as well?”
He didn’t respond.
Ravyn stepped over the fallen form of the doppelganger with a look of disgust. “You had better have a good reason for requesting this meeting, Dr. Klimm.” Her voice dripped with acid as she spoke his name.
El Diablito’s facial expression shifted from smug to shock back to smug within in microseconds. “Ah yes, I’ve enjoyed our duels, young lady. But I am less than fond of your pet bird, I must say.” He rubbed his hands together as he spoke.
Enemies Mine...Part 3
Seizing on the opportunity created by the surprise of seeing Papa Locks standing across the room, I stretched my right hand up to my right shoulder and seized ahold of the hilt of Excalibur.
In a blindingly fast move that I had been practicing ever since that nasty encounter on South Beach, I drew the blade and lashed out with it. Even with surprise, however, I would have missed my target if the blade hadn't adjusted itself in mid-swing.
The magickal blade whizzed out faster than the human eye can see, taking Chandler's head and the hand that he had brought up in an attempt to ward off the blow that no one else knew was coming. Hand and head went flying up in the air as tremendous energies and a fountain of blackish ichor were unleashed in a gushing flood. The lights of the room flickered as the Spirit of the creature was destroyed by the blade's deadly magick.
Dick Arnold sat stunned, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. His hands clenched to the table as he watched the head of his long time servants head go flying, only to see the head of a monster land on the table with a thud. The empty eyes of an alien creature stared back at him.
El Diablito had the presence of mind to kick back from the table and stand up, a ball of powerful energy gathering around his right hand, ready to smite any who threatened him. "Bones, what is the meaning..."
The two guards reached for weapons at their sides, the guard on the right side ducking down to use the table as cover as he drew a weapon. The guard on the left had his pistol up and out in a standing postiion.
Only Papa Locks didn't react in utter surprise. Even though his head was obscured by the dark hood of the cloak, I saw it tip back as a laughter echoed forth, his shoulders shaking in mirth. "You see, Little Devil, I told you that butler was not who he seemed to be!"
I heard Zenny gasp in surprise, while Jim uttered a series of curses that would have shocked his students. I could feel Ravyn gathering her own power, whether in response to El Diablito or to my actions, I wasn't sure.
I reached down to the oozing form of the doppleganger on the floor, hooked my left hand into the hole at the top of its neck and pulled the body up for all to see. Excalibur still smoking in my right hand, I looked to my other enemies across the table.
"We need to talk."
(To be continued tonight...)
In a blindingly fast move that I had been practicing ever since that nasty encounter on South Beach, I drew the blade and lashed out with it. Even with surprise, however, I would have missed my target if the blade hadn't adjusted itself in mid-swing.
The magickal blade whizzed out faster than the human eye can see, taking Chandler's head and the hand that he had brought up in an attempt to ward off the blow that no one else knew was coming. Hand and head went flying up in the air as tremendous energies and a fountain of blackish ichor were unleashed in a gushing flood. The lights of the room flickered as the Spirit of the creature was destroyed by the blade's deadly magick.
Dick Arnold sat stunned, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. His hands clenched to the table as he watched the head of his long time servants head go flying, only to see the head of a monster land on the table with a thud. The empty eyes of an alien creature stared back at him.
El Diablito had the presence of mind to kick back from the table and stand up, a ball of powerful energy gathering around his right hand, ready to smite any who threatened him. "Bones, what is the meaning..."
The two guards reached for weapons at their sides, the guard on the right side ducking down to use the table as cover as he drew a weapon. The guard on the left had his pistol up and out in a standing postiion.
Only Papa Locks didn't react in utter surprise. Even though his head was obscured by the dark hood of the cloak, I saw it tip back as a laughter echoed forth, his shoulders shaking in mirth. "You see, Little Devil, I told you that butler was not who he seemed to be!"
I heard Zenny gasp in surprise, while Jim uttered a series of curses that would have shocked his students. I could feel Ravyn gathering her own power, whether in response to El Diablito or to my actions, I wasn't sure.
I reached down to the oozing form of the doppleganger on the floor, hooked my left hand into the hole at the top of its neck and pulled the body up for all to see. Excalibur still smoking in my right hand, I looked to my other enemies across the table.
"We need to talk."
(To be continued tonight...)
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Enemies Mine...Part 2
We were met in the lobby by a thin, tall, middle-aged black man wearing a black tuxedo, highly polished shoes, and white gloves. He had been waiting in the middle of the room, calmly ignoring the never-ending stream of humanity that simply parted around him as they sought the golden spawning grounds in the gaming rooms behind him.
As we approached however, he came to life as if having been turned on. His spoke as we came near and bowed his head ever so slightly in my direction. “Agent Rusty Bones, I presume?” His accent distinguished as someone who trained or lived in England for a very long time.
I stopped. “Yeah. I’m Agent Bones. What can I do for you?”
He tilted his head again in the faintest hint of a bow of deference. “My name is Chandler Grimes. I have been asked to take you to your party.”
“Have you now? And just what party is that Chandler?” I stared directly into his eyes, trying to gain his measure, quite aware that many people found it hard to look directly at me for any significant period of time.
He returned my gaze, unfazed and unblinking as he replied. “I am in the personal employ of Mr. Richard Arnold. He has asked me to meet you and your party and to escort you to his private chambers.”
I extended my right arm, palm up and open. “Well then, my good man, why don’t you lead the way?”
He bobbed his head one more time, looked directly at my three companions for the first time. He bowed more substantially to Raven and Zenny while he barely acknowledged Jim’s existence. He turned on a dime and began a slow, march through the ever changing stream of customers, effortlessly avoiding contact with any of them as made his way towards a roped off elevator just off the side of the main lobby.
As we moved to follow, Ravyn leaned over to me. “What happened with meeting him in a public place?”
Jim’s quizzical look asked the same question without any words.
I brought my hand up to my mouth to prevent anyone from reading my lips while I pretended to cough. “It’s OK. Trust me.”
She arched an eyebrow at that, but didn’t otherwise respond.
A security guard pulled the velvet rope to the side, allowing us to follow behind Chandler into the elevator.
“Chandler, is an elevator necessary? This place can’t have more than four floors?”
The butler bobbed his head again before he spoke. “I am following my instructions, Agent Bones.”
The door closed as Jim brought up the rear of the party. It was just us and Chandler in the spacious elevator. I decided to take a chance and shifted in my vision into the Shadowland.
Chandler’s Spirit form was a very calm, deep blue in color and matched the shape and size of his body. His form looked right at me as I looked at him. It seemed that he gave me the same sort of slight nod that he had given me before. I shifted back into normal vision just as the elevator reached the third and top floor. The door opened with a chime.
Chandler somehow found a way through us and into the hall beyond before anyone could even shift out of his way. He didn’t seem to move that fast, but he was effortlessly leading the way again down a quiet, deserted hallway full of closed doors.
He stopped in front of a set of double doors, waiting for us to catch up to him. As we approached, he pulled open both doors so that they clicked into place and remained open without anyone holding onto them and stepped inside the beautifully appointed conference room.
Once inside, his announced in a loud, clear voice. “Mr. Arnold, it is my pleasure to announce the arrival of Agent Rusty Bones and party.” He turned to wave us into the room with his gloved left hand.
Stepping inside the large room, I saw Dick Arnold and El Diablito seated next to each other at the end of a long conference table. Standing behind them were three figures. Two of the figures, one to each side, were clearly guards, although they didn’t seem to be the same kind of goons that Drake and Dick Arnold had employed in the past. These two guys were clearly not your average soldier turned mercenary types.
But it was the third figure that caused me to stop in my tracks. I couldn’t make out any actual physical features because he was shrouded in a hooded dark cloak that obscured his face. But there was no mistaking that aura as soon as I saw him, I recognized him.
“Papa Locks!”
As we approached however, he came to life as if having been turned on. His spoke as we came near and bowed his head ever so slightly in my direction. “Agent Rusty Bones, I presume?” His accent distinguished as someone who trained or lived in England for a very long time.
I stopped. “Yeah. I’m Agent Bones. What can I do for you?”
He tilted his head again in the faintest hint of a bow of deference. “My name is Chandler Grimes. I have been asked to take you to your party.”
“Have you now? And just what party is that Chandler?” I stared directly into his eyes, trying to gain his measure, quite aware that many people found it hard to look directly at me for any significant period of time.
He returned my gaze, unfazed and unblinking as he replied. “I am in the personal employ of Mr. Richard Arnold. He has asked me to meet you and your party and to escort you to his private chambers.”
I extended my right arm, palm up and open. “Well then, my good man, why don’t you lead the way?”
He bobbed his head one more time, looked directly at my three companions for the first time. He bowed more substantially to Raven and Zenny while he barely acknowledged Jim’s existence. He turned on a dime and began a slow, march through the ever changing stream of customers, effortlessly avoiding contact with any of them as made his way towards a roped off elevator just off the side of the main lobby.
As we moved to follow, Ravyn leaned over to me. “What happened with meeting him in a public place?”
Jim’s quizzical look asked the same question without any words.
I brought my hand up to my mouth to prevent anyone from reading my lips while I pretended to cough. “It’s OK. Trust me.”
She arched an eyebrow at that, but didn’t otherwise respond.
A security guard pulled the velvet rope to the side, allowing us to follow behind Chandler into the elevator.
“Chandler, is an elevator necessary? This place can’t have more than four floors?”
The butler bobbed his head again before he spoke. “I am following my instructions, Agent Bones.”
The door closed as Jim brought up the rear of the party. It was just us and Chandler in the spacious elevator. I decided to take a chance and shifted in my vision into the Shadowland.
Chandler’s Spirit form was a very calm, deep blue in color and matched the shape and size of his body. His form looked right at me as I looked at him. It seemed that he gave me the same sort of slight nod that he had given me before. I shifted back into normal vision just as the elevator reached the third and top floor. The door opened with a chime.
Chandler somehow found a way through us and into the hall beyond before anyone could even shift out of his way. He didn’t seem to move that fast, but he was effortlessly leading the way again down a quiet, deserted hallway full of closed doors.
He stopped in front of a set of double doors, waiting for us to catch up to him. As we approached, he pulled open both doors so that they clicked into place and remained open without anyone holding onto them and stepped inside the beautifully appointed conference room.
Once inside, his announced in a loud, clear voice. “Mr. Arnold, it is my pleasure to announce the arrival of Agent Rusty Bones and party.” He turned to wave us into the room with his gloved left hand.
Stepping inside the large room, I saw Dick Arnold and El Diablito seated next to each other at the end of a long conference table. Standing behind them were three figures. Two of the figures, one to each side, were clearly guards, although they didn’t seem to be the same kind of goons that Drake and Dick Arnold had employed in the past. These two guys were clearly not your average soldier turned mercenary types.
But it was the third figure that caused me to stop in my tracks. I couldn’t make out any actual physical features because he was shrouded in a hooded dark cloak that obscured his face. But there was no mistaking that aura as soon as I saw him, I recognized him.
“Papa Locks!”
Enemies Mine...Part 1
We pulled into the unlighted parking lot on the edge of Detroit’s Greektown district. Jim backed the large white Co-op van into the spot the attendant had indicated, but not until the man had collected a $10 bill from the grumbling Jim.
Turning off the van, Jim turned to face the rest of us in the van. “I still think you should have agreed to meet him outside. Nothing good happens in a casino unless you happen to own the thing.”
“Yeah, well I was actually trying to keep everyone from freezing to death when we met with them. Plus the crowds will hopefully keep things from coming to blows between us and minimize any possible dirty tricks they can try to pull on us.”
Jim shook his head as he pocketed the keys to the van. “I don’t know about that, with Arnold’s money and influence, I’m worried that we’ll be walking into a trap.”
“Hey, they’re on my turf now, Jim. Trust me. I’ve got it all under control.”
Ravyn looked back from the front passenger seat, incredulous. “Trust you? After all of the times you’ve walked blindly into danger? Yeah, right. We’re not all dead, you know, and we’d rather not get that way! Let’s go.”
The four of us got out of the van, our boots crunching in the crusted snow that hadn’t been cleared in the week since the last storm. The cold winter air had enough bite in to show the breath of each of the other three in the party.
Zenny pulled her hijab closer to her forehead with her gloved hands. She stomped her feet and shivered as she waited for Ravyn and Jim to join us.
“How can people live in such a cold place?”
I shook my head. “Detroit’s not bad. A lot of your fellow Iraqi’s live here too.”
She looked down at her feet, pushing the snow side to side with her left boot. “I don’t know what could have brought them here.”
Happy to have a chance to talk about my native community and show a little of my local lore I decided to expound a little bit in her native tongue. “Well, Henry Ford and his $5 a day work day brought a lot of immigrants to this area starting about 80 years ago, including a lot of laborers from Yemen and Lebanon. I think the Iraqi’s are mostly refugees from Saddam though, they didn’t start coming in large numbers until the Iran/Iraq war started. The Detroit area is home to the largest concentration of Arabs outside of the Middle East. When we’re done here, we can probably get some good food for you from a really good bakery.”
Zenny replied in Arabic. “This is one Arab who wishes that it was warmer here in the winter.” She cracked a small smile and switched back to English. “Thank you, Rusty. It is always nice to hear you speak Arabic.”
As Jim and Ravyn joined us, we began the short walk to the casino. Jim carried a small backpack that he slung over his shoulder.
Ravyn walked silently next to him, her eyes darting between abandoned buildings and nearly empty lots. “This is downtown Detroit? I thought it would be a little more alive than this.”
Our crunching steps and hushed words were just then overshadowed by a siren as an ambulance screamed down a nearby street. “It’s actually better now than a few years ago. This entire area was empty, except for a few Greek restaurants. Before the casinos and the new stadiums, this entire section of the city was a wasteland.”
Jim harrumphed, waving his free right hand about as he spoke. “But how much public money was spent to attract and build those things here? I’ll bet that those tax dollars would have been better spent on something more productive than helping the wealthy get wealthier.”
I glanced over to Jim. “At least now there is something for people to do when they come to this city. Before this stuff, there wasn’t anything to bring them here.”
We rounded the corner and saw the glitzy signs of the casino and the bustle of patrons going in and out.
I stopped. “So is everyone ready? Any questions on the plan of action?”
All three shook their heads.
“OK, then, let’s get in, do our business, and get out.”
Turning off the van, Jim turned to face the rest of us in the van. “I still think you should have agreed to meet him outside. Nothing good happens in a casino unless you happen to own the thing.”
“Yeah, well I was actually trying to keep everyone from freezing to death when we met with them. Plus the crowds will hopefully keep things from coming to blows between us and minimize any possible dirty tricks they can try to pull on us.”
Jim shook his head as he pocketed the keys to the van. “I don’t know about that, with Arnold’s money and influence, I’m worried that we’ll be walking into a trap.”
“Hey, they’re on my turf now, Jim. Trust me. I’ve got it all under control.”
Ravyn looked back from the front passenger seat, incredulous. “Trust you? After all of the times you’ve walked blindly into danger? Yeah, right. We’re not all dead, you know, and we’d rather not get that way! Let’s go.”
The four of us got out of the van, our boots crunching in the crusted snow that hadn’t been cleared in the week since the last storm. The cold winter air had enough bite in to show the breath of each of the other three in the party.
Zenny pulled her hijab closer to her forehead with her gloved hands. She stomped her feet and shivered as she waited for Ravyn and Jim to join us.
“How can people live in such a cold place?”
I shook my head. “Detroit’s not bad. A lot of your fellow Iraqi’s live here too.”
She looked down at her feet, pushing the snow side to side with her left boot. “I don’t know what could have brought them here.”
Happy to have a chance to talk about my native community and show a little of my local lore I decided to expound a little bit in her native tongue. “Well, Henry Ford and his $5 a day work day brought a lot of immigrants to this area starting about 80 years ago, including a lot of laborers from Yemen and Lebanon. I think the Iraqi’s are mostly refugees from Saddam though, they didn’t start coming in large numbers until the Iran/Iraq war started. The Detroit area is home to the largest concentration of Arabs outside of the Middle East. When we’re done here, we can probably get some good food for you from a really good bakery.”
Zenny replied in Arabic. “This is one Arab who wishes that it was warmer here in the winter.” She cracked a small smile and switched back to English. “Thank you, Rusty. It is always nice to hear you speak Arabic.”
As Jim and Ravyn joined us, we began the short walk to the casino. Jim carried a small backpack that he slung over his shoulder.
Ravyn walked silently next to him, her eyes darting between abandoned buildings and nearly empty lots. “This is downtown Detroit? I thought it would be a little more alive than this.”
Our crunching steps and hushed words were just then overshadowed by a siren as an ambulance screamed down a nearby street. “It’s actually better now than a few years ago. This entire area was empty, except for a few Greek restaurants. Before the casinos and the new stadiums, this entire section of the city was a wasteland.”
Jim harrumphed, waving his free right hand about as he spoke. “But how much public money was spent to attract and build those things here? I’ll bet that those tax dollars would have been better spent on something more productive than helping the wealthy get wealthier.”
I glanced over to Jim. “At least now there is something for people to do when they come to this city. Before this stuff, there wasn’t anything to bring them here.”
We rounded the corner and saw the glitzy signs of the casino and the bustle of patrons going in and out.
I stopped. “So is everyone ready? Any questions on the plan of action?”
All three shook their heads.
“OK, then, let’s get in, do our business, and get out.”
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