The Peregrine Omnibus, Volume Two

by Barry Reese

  The grisly work was soon complete and Max took his wife’s hand as they began to leave the hold. “Sorry for not sticking to my promise. I swore this would be one trip where I wouldn’t wear the mask at all.”

  “It’s okay, Max. I knew who and what you were when I married you. It’s just like my acting career—you know that sometimes I have to be away for a while.”

  Max knew what she meant. When they’d first met, Evelyn had been a stage actress but she’d soon graduated to B-Movies. As a result of this, she was sometimes off in California for weeks at a time, leaving Max to tend to the house and family.

  It all made for an interesting arrangement but it was one that worked for them. As they stepped up onto the deck, the moon now beginning to peek out from behind the clouds, Max felt a pounding begin just behind his eyes. His vision swam and he released his grip on his wife’s hand so that he could rush forward to lean against the rail.

  “Max…?” Evelyn asked, though she recognized the signs of what was happening. Not long after witnessing the death of his father, Max had begun experiencing painful visions of the future. These visions usually centered on violent crimes of some sort and often took the form of enigmatic glimpses of potential events, rather than hard-and-fast depictions of what lay ahead. The knowledge that these visions came from his dead father did little to lessen the pain they induced.

  Evelyn approached cautiously, knowing her husband was lost in a world she could not see. She tentatively reached out for his shoulder but he jerked away from her.

  In his mind’s eye, The Peregrine was witnessing a number of things that made little sense to him, but which nevertheless filled him with dread:

  He saw a man with bronze skin and blue eyes wearing a parka, trudging through the snow towards a strange emerald dome.

  He witnessed himself being tortured by three women, all of them beautiful but cruel.

  And he saw a wave of pure light washing over Washington, D.C., destroying everything in its path. He saw the White House reduced to cinders while the Lincoln Memorial was annihilated from the face of the Earth.

  When his vision cleared and he was once more aware of his surroundings, Max turned his head and saw Evelyn watching him with obvious fear in her eyes. “It’s okay. I’m okay,” he said, though his voice shook a bit as he spoke.

  “What did you see?”

  The Peregrine reached up and removed the mask from his face. He dropped it into the pocket of his coat and began rubbing his temples with both hands. He summarized what he’d seen but the words did little convey the horror of the images. It was always this way: no matter how he might try, he could never make someone else understand what it was like to witness destruction on such a massive scale. Thankfully, he’d been able to prevent most of the predicted disasters from occurring… but eventually, he was bound to slip up and fail. That thought kept him up at nights.

  “You didn’t get any idea who was behind it all? Was it those girls? Or the man with the blue eyes?”

  “I didn’t see those women and the man together. But I do get the sense that there’s some connection between them. I wish these visions were clearer!” The Peregrine slammed his fist down on top of the railing and stared out over the water. “I have no idea who they are or where to find them. I don’t know when the attack on Washington might come or how to stop it. Sometimes these things seem more like taunts than anything else, like my father is daring me to stop these crimes.”

  “You know that’s not the case. Your father was… is… many things but one thing you know is that he wants to see criminals punished.”

  “Yes. Even if it means torturing his son and turning him into an instrument for his vengeance.” Max couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. He shook his head. “Enough self-pity. I’ve got work to do when we get back home. I have to stop those things from happening.”

  “Well, you know I’ll do anything I can to help. And you have friends you can call on.”

  The Peregrine knew whom she was talking about. In recent years, he’d undertaken adventures with a wide variety of fellow heroes: the Russian superman Leonid Kaslov, the mysterious Black Bat, the supernatural detective Ascott Keane and the Domino Lady1. All of them would do whatever they could to assist him if he gave them a call… but he would hold off on that as much as possible. They all had their own problems and their own lives.

  Evelyn squeezed her husband’s hand. “You’ll save the day,” she said with a smile. “You always do.”

  “I hope you’re right, Evelyn. Because the things I saw… I have a feeling that the entire world could be in danger if I don’t.”

  Sun Koh—Man of Destiny

  CHAPTER III

  The Daughter of Kali

  Sun Koh lay awake, nestled in amongst warm female flesh. He was onboard the zeppelin, which was flying towards Europe. The Furies were all nude and covered with a fine sheen of sweat, their breathing deep and rhythmic. Sun Koh had exhausted them with his sexual prowess and they had fallen into a deep slumber immediately afterwards. This left Sun Koh in peace, allowing him to think things through.

  Käthe lay with her head upon Sun Koh’s chest, a faint smile on her lips. Akemi was on the other side, her cheek resting on The Man of Destiny’s taut belly. Imelda was on the far edge of the bed, spooning with Käthe. All three women had been ardent lovers but Sun Koh had maintained a cool distance, even during the more intimate moments of their relations. Sun Koh knew all the ways to please a woman even though he regarded most of them as being lesser than a man and thus unworthy of his full attention. An Aryan woman was far above the men of the lesser races… but they were just as far below an Aryan man. Even a woman like Käthe, whose intelligence and skill were beyond reproach, would have better suited for her natural role: that of a mother, bringing new life into the world.

  Only one woman had ever truly deserved equality with the men around her. Unfortunately, Sun Koh wasn’t sure if she still lived. Of all his aides, she was the only one who hadn’t accompanied him on his ill-fated return to Atlantis. All the others were now dead… but his beloved Ashanti might yet be out there somewhere, awaiting his return.

  Ashanti Garuda, whose named translated as “The Daughter of Kali,” was Sun Koh’s mistress and his trusted assassin. Sun Koh had generally called her Shani, a pet name that no one else would have dared used. A true Aryan born and raised in India, Shani was a wondrous human being, defying the limitations of her gender. She had mastered alchemy, sorcery, Yoga, Siddha medicine, Kalaripayit and too many other Indian mystical arts to count. Thanks to Elixir of Life that she routinely drank, she was perpetually young and beautiful. Sun Koh had no idea how old she truly was but her skin was also smooth and firm, her curves defying gravity in an enticing manner. A devotee of Kali, she had been gifted with the powers of pacifying, paralyzing, subjugating, obstructing, driving away and death dealing. She accomplished all these things with the temple that was her body, mastering all the pressure points that could be used to render men helpless, be it from pain or pleasure.

  Her body, the dimensions of which Sun Koh could recall with perfect clarity, had been the canvas that displayed her devotion to Kali. In the center of her red tikala mark on her forehead was a tiny golden Swastika. Twelve more Swastikas adorned the rest of her body, located on the soles of her feet, the palms of her hands, the inside of her thighs, the inner portion of her arms on the outsides of her buttocks and the sides of her breasts. Sun Koh had traced them all with his hands and mouth.

  The Atlantean slide from the bed, careful not to rouse The Furies. He found a robe that had been set aside for him and he slipped it on, cinching the belt in front. The hum of the engines was steady and consistent beneath his feet. He left the women’s quarters and moved quietly through the zeppelin’s hallways, finally entering the bridge. There were only four people present—three men who were studying gauges and charts and Captain Mueller.

  Mueller, who had been sitting in his chair drinking a cup of coffee, stood up
when he saw Sun Koh. “I trust the accommodations are to your liking?” the captain asked.

  Sun Koh could sense the man’s discomfort. “They are more than adequate. If I may ask, Captain Mueller, why is it that so many of your men seem uneasy in my presence?”

  “Well, since your disappearance, your adventures have become a bit of modern folklore. I myself have a nearly full set of your heldromans.”

  Sun Koh nodded, suddenly understanding. During his last visit to this time, he had allowed several enterprising authors to fictionalize his adventures for consumption by the German masses. These pulp novels took certain liberties with the truth but all of them were inspired by actual events. “Käthe told me of the last to be published. The one where I raised Atlantis, made Thule whole again and made the interior portions of the world safe for Aryans.”

  Mueller caught the tone in Sun Koh’s voice. It was full of sardonic humor and it was quite apparent that the Atlantean didn’t think much of the heldromans. “So none of it was true?”

  “Oh, there were kernels of truth in all those tales, Captain. But I have not read my final adventure.” Sun Koh smiled wistfully. “I would imagine that they would have changed some of the details so that I might have gone out as a hero and not as a fool.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “My companions and I journeyed to that location for the expression purpose of raising Atlantis. That part of my plan worked exactly as it should have. But something was wrong… there were no remnants of our civilization, save for my father’s throne, his iron crown and a few hieroglyphs on a cave wall. It was as if… all of my life had been condensed into that one cavern.”

  Mueller pursed his lips thoughtfully. He wasn’t at all sure what to say. He had always regarded Sun Koh as the perfect Aryan warrior—an ideal to which he could secretly aspire. But now he was seeing that the legend had feet of clay, eaten away by self-doubt. But almost as soon as he was thinking these things, he saw a change come over his hero’s face. It was if Sun Koh, too, had realized how he looked and sounded. Sun Koh threw off the shroud of sadness that had overtaken him and his face adopted the look of indomitable will that was usually associated with him.

  “Captain, I would prefer not to journey to Berlin just yet. I have someone that I wish to look for.”

  Mueller was about to say that his orders came from The Fuehrer himself when a radio communications officer entered the room. After a quick exchange of salutes, the officer held out a communiqué with a stiff arm. “This just arrived, Herr Mueller.”

  The look on the young man’s face gave Mueller pause. He knew that this message must have come from someone high-ranking enough to leave the man awestruck. Mueller glanced over the words, his jaw tightening. He looked at Sun Koh with an unreadable expression on his face. “New orders have arrived from Berlin. We are to return to the island and leave The Furies there to continue looking for anything from Atlantis that might remain. The Reich could benefit from the superior technology your people were rumored to possess.”

  Sun Koh sensed that the next part of the communiqué was what truly disturbed Mueller. “And what else, Captain?”

  “We are to drop you off at the next Axis military base. You will be taken by plane on a covert trip.”

  “To where?”

  “To the place where you entered our world: London, England.”

  “And for what purpose?”

  “Because there’s a woman there. A woman who somehow managed to contact the highest powers in Germany and convince them that she has to see you as soon as possible.”

  Sun Koh’s lips twisted, beginning to form the faintest hint of a smile. “What is her name?”

  Mueller fumbled with the pronunciation but Sun Koh didn’t mind. Ashanti Garuda was alive… and she wanted to see him. He wondered idly why she was in England—her loathing of the British knew no bounds—but such concerns could wait.

  Sun Koh was going to be reunited with his lover.

  * * *

  “I cannot believe this. We find him and revive him… and our reward is that we’re dumped back on the island?” Imelda spat on the ground, her hands on her hips. The three women had rowed ashore after being deposited in a raft some three miles from coast of Atlantis.

  Akemi and Käthe exchanged a glance as they continued pulling supplies from the boat. It was Akemi who chose to address Imelda and her tone contained barely disguised loathing. “You sound like a cow when you moan that way. If your teats are so bloated, go and give them a hard pull!”

  Imelda stared at her in shock. Then her face began to redden and she took several meaningful steps in Akemi’s direction. The Japanese girl unsheathed her katana and adopted a battle-ready stance.

  Käthe automatically opened her mouth, ready to try and soothe the wounds that lay between the two women. But then she decided to step back for once. She was disappointed as well and she found it hard to condemn Imelda for speaking out. Instead, she slung a backpack over her shoulder and began trudging towards the dense vegetation that covered the rocky terrain. The volcano was her ultimate destination. Sun Koh had been quite clear in saying that there were no volcanoes in ancient Atlantis and if the Fuehrer wanted confirmation of Sun Koh’s stories—and Käthe was sure that was what this mission was now about—that seemed as good a place as any to start.

  Akemi lowered her sword, staring at Käthe’s back. The fact that their recognized leader had not intervened was not lost on either Akemi or Imelda. “She’s hurting,” Akemi said.

  “And well she should be. How many months has she wasted on this? And this is how she’s treated?” Imelda sighed and shook her head. “My apologies, Akemi. I am… tired.”

  The Japanese woman’s expression softened and she sheathed her blade, providing her companion a brief nod. “Accepted. I should not be so quick to respond to your provocations.”

  Imelda frowned, seemingly unhappy with the lack of a true apology in response. She said nothing, however, and the two of them completed their task of packing up their supplied. They trudged after Käthe, trying to keep their footing on the slick rock surface. The rainfall had left deep puddles here and there, adding to the treacherous nature of the terrain.

  They caught up to Käthe in a large clearing where a number of white-stoned ruins lay in various states of crumbling. There appeared to be four buildings in all, one-story affairs with multiple windows. In the center of the clearing was an old raised well. Käthe was staring down into it when Akemi stopped at her side, panting from the exertion. All three women were in remarkable shape but even they were taxed by their rapid travel though the jungle.

  “This is promising,” Akemi said. “First signs of habitation we’ve found on this place, aside from the cave.”

  Käthe reached into the bag she’d set down at her feet. She pulled out a small coin and dropped it into the well. A splash was heard approximately eight seconds after she let it go.

  “What do you think this was?” Imelda asked. “Looks too small to have been a village.”

  “I think it was a holy place,” Käthe replied. “The priests lived in those two structures there and this one to my left was where their attendants slept. The final building was a common house where they took their meals and had prayer.”

  Imelda stared at her with a disbelieving grin on her face. “And how do you know all that?”

  “I found a scrap of paper while the two of you were cresting that last hill.” Käthe pulled it from one of her pockets and held it out to Imelda. The Italian studied the script and then shrugged. “It’s in Atlantean,” Käthe explained. “I translated it.”

  “I’m surprised Sun Koh didn’t propose marriage,” Imelda said. “You know almost as much about his people as he does.”

  “The only things I know are the scraps of information he gave German Military Intelligence.” Käthe sounded slightly defensive and Imelda wondered if she hadn’t hit on something. Had Käthe really thought that Sun Koh was going to make her some Aryan princess?
“Besides,” Käthe continued, turning away and looking around at the ruins. “Sun Koh had a lover. Or at least, he did.”

  “That didn’t stop him from taking on all three of us,” Imelda pointed out with a satisfied chuckle.

  Käthe didn’t bother replying to that. She knew that Sun Koh was a prince and was used to having multiple consorts. In fact, she’d read reports that had specifically mentioned his incredible stamina and sexual appetites. As such, she had certainly not been offended that he had wanted to include Imelda and Akemi in their lovemaking.

  “We’re not alone,” Akemi whispered and both Imelda and Käthe responded without questioning. Käthe drew a bullwhip, keeping it coiled at the ready. Imelda was now brandishing two pistols of Italian design. They scanned the surrounding jungles, but saw and heard nothing.

  Akemi sensed their confusion but didn’t rush into an explanation. Her senses were the most keen of The Furies and she was positive that she’d heard the crunching of leaves. It could certainly have been an animal of some sort but so far they had seen nothing but birds and monkeys and both species were keeping high to the trees.

  “Over there,” Imelda hissed, training her pistols on a man who was staggering into view. The man was dressed in blood-encrusted Buckskins and a coonskin hat with the ragged remnants of a striped tail hanging off the back. He was huge, a veritable mountain of a man, with salt-and-pepper whiskers. He came to an abrupt halt when he spotted the three women, his mouth working in amazement.

  “Who are you?” Imelda demanded, repeating the question in multiple languages.

  “English,” Käthe said. “He speaks English.” She lowered her weapon. “You’re Jim Hoover, aren’t you? Better known as Alaska-Jim.”

  The hunter nodded slowly. “That’s me.” He swayed unsteadily on his feet. “You have to get off this island,” he said. “This isn’t Atlantis. Not at all…”

  Akemi relaxed a bit as Käthe moved closer to the man. She knew of Alaska-Jim. He was one of Sun Koh’s closest companions, a hunter and trapper from the Old West who sometimes worked for the Canadian police. A Canadian of German descent, Alaska-Jim had been very fervent in his defense of Aryan ideals. Akemi knew that true Aryans would look upon her own people as a lesser race but she allowed her loyalty to Käthe to overcome any distaste she had for such racial notions.