Chapter Text
Introduction
This story began as a response to a detail included in the second volume of Sean Lee Levin's Crossovers Expanded books, which masterfully carried on the work started by Win Scott Eckert in his excellent two-volume Crossovers series. These books have established a shared universe of fiction known as the “Crossover Universe,” which expands off of the Wold Newton Universe concept set forth by Philip José Farmer. The end of the second volume of Crossovers Expanded featured an Alternate Universe section, dedicated to detailing crossover stories which contradicts established Crossover Universe lore. (The second volume of Crossovers featured this as well.) In this AU chapter I was surprised to find Rick Lai's Shadows of the Opera stories, which tell a startlingly complex tale of vigilante justice that begins with an explanation of the mysterious Shadow in the Felt Hat from Gaston Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera and carries on into an adventure that unites the bulk of 19th Century French crime fiction with Spaghetti Westerns and the Cthulhu Mythos. Shadows of the Opera was one of the most comprehensively researched pieces of crossover fiction I'd ever encountered—how could it be an AU? The end of the entry revealed that Lai's tales present a genealogy for Walter Gibson's pulp vigilante, The Shadow, which contradicts the genealogy of The Shadow established by Philip José Farmer, in his Wold Newton books Tarzan Alive and Doc Savage: His Apocalyptic Life. Yet I thought Lai had good leverage to change the The Shadow's ancestry—for those two books of Farmer's contain a retcon that changes The Shadow's background. Farmer had been wrong before about The Shadow, so why couldn't he have still missed part of the truth? Rick Lai even wrote a story, “Judex Rules” (collected in Black Coat Press's The Shadow of Judex) which explains that numerous people, including Farmer, blended details from an alternate universe into the history of the “real” world by mistake. I understood the reasoning for why these stories were set in an AU, but I respectfully disagreed.
I began on a story to further justify Lai's theories working in the main Crossover Universe. This tale grew into a tale that incorporated aspects of Dennis E. Power's excellent story “The Judex Codex” (also from The Shadow of Judex), which contained details that contradicted “Shadows Reborn,” one of Rick Lai's Opera stories that dealt with The Shadow himself. Originally my plan was to dedicate the story to the two of them, until I realized that some of my concepts were also based on implications made in the works of Win Scott Eckert and Christopher Paul Carey—both of whom have elaborated on the meta-text of Farmer's complete works, a study which yields such wonders as worms unknown to science, crystals found growing in ancient African ruins, and immortal cavemen bent on world domination. In their work both shared and independent they have created meta-texts of their own, which yield larger stories when read in sum.
I recalled then that I had been reading the works of Eckert, Carey, Power, and Lai since I was about 13 years old, via the pjfarmer.com website and the Myths for a Modern Age essay anthology. I felt and feel like I owe them much. Doing a story that combined their crossover fiction together, with nods to other longtime Wold Newtonians (as well as a few additions from my own crossover work), hugely appealed to me. This fanfiction is my tribute to the belief in a Great Web of Fiction, a colossal postmodern union of storytelling and spacetime, history and humanity. I pray the tribute is not a poor one. This story is dedicated additionally to Jean-Marc and Randy Lofficier, Chuck Loridans, Christofer Nigro, Joshua Reynolds, Sean Lee Levin, Pete Rawlik, and Will Emmons, whose names I regrettably could not work out how to add into the title. And it is dedicated, of course, to Philip José Farmer.
Thank you for giving me so much to check out, guys.
I highly recommend checking out the Crossovers books and the author's websites and online listings to get lists of their stories and experience their works for yourselves. The Notes section explains the references made in the story.
~~~~~
Prelude.
Rip Gardenier's wife Roberta smirked as she deliberately phrased her question oddly. Robert Thorul loved messing with her husband sometimes, and so she cited an Internet meme of the early 21st Century as a sort of shibboleth, to show she wasn't weirded out by his unique condition.
“'Gee Rip,'” she paraphrased. “'How come your mom lets you have two timelines?'”
Rip laughed then; the inside-joke connected. “My dad's the one who lets me.”
“Tell me. C'mon.”
“I wish it was a short tale, but it's not,” he replied, leaning back into the comfortable chair of the Infinity Trust HQ cafeteria. “It took me a long, long time to figure out why my family had two histories, culminating in me. Well, I guess in truth they culminated in my father—but the curse was passed along. I ended up a fusion just like him. The man I call my father may actually be my half-brother. I may be the son of an affair Rip van Winkle had with his 1970s descendant, Judy Gardenier.”
“But that doesn't seem likely,” Roberta said. “I'm sure that Kent Lane is your father. It's just that the files we have on your dad are inconsistent.”
“Because he represents two timelines,” Rip said, feeling mildly like a broken record. “In one world, he was the son of Kent Allard and Margo Lane. In another, he was the son of Rip van Winkle and Thelda Blanchet, adopted by Allard after he pulled that stunt where he posed as Judex's son. It's complicated, because some things happened in both worlds—for example, in timelines Allard posed as Frederic-Jean de Trémeuse, alias Frederic-Jean Orth. He was aided in France by his 'brother,' Jean Aubry de Trémeuse.”
“As far as I understand, Allard himself represents a continuum of fused timelines,” Roberta replied. “According to Bruce Hagin Rassendyll, Allard existed in multiple forms. Bruce received psychic visions of a world where Allard was one of his own split personalities, along with his half-brother, Richard Wentworth; he was three guys in one. There was another world where Allard was the son of Ralph Rassendyll and Rhoda Delagardie. And then in another, he was a half-brother of Arsène Lupin, being the son of Lupin's father and Darlla Rassendyll, a cousin of Ralph. I've figured out that the woman known Irene Tupin seems to be a half-sister of Kent Allard, genetically. Bruce Rassendyll couldn't figure out though which of these timelines was the 'real' one after a while.”
“My grandfather, my father, and Judex, along with an associate of my grandfather's, were all affected by a particular stone. I don't mean of course to say the meteorite that affected most of their ancestors; I mean the Ruby.”
“The Ruby?”
“Like I said, hon, it's a long story...”
I.
March 1934
The vigilante clad in the black cloak and hat had difficulty remembering if he had been inside this particular cave in the domain of the Szincas. It was not the cave that ordinary housed their idol, and yet their idol was here, as if it was omnipresent. He had been summoned here by the woman who now stood before him. She addressed him and his agent, the hunter known as Sanger Rainsford. She knew that few people in the world knew that Sanger Rainsford, big game hunter and author, was a black man. While his editor was willing to publish him, including a photograph of his face was deemed a threat to sales. Sanger turned this into something valuable. Because no one knew Rainsford's face, the shadowy vigilante could use Rainsford's name and renown for his own ends. Through a deal with the vigilante, Rainsford sometimes swapped places with another man the vigilante impersonated, a wealthy man named Lamont Cranston. Cranston filled in for Rainsford when Rainsford needed to appear as a white man, to navigate the intense bigotries of the times. During this time, the real Sanger Rainsford became wealthy traveler Lamont Cranston. He enjoyed waltzing into the clubs and casinos of wealthy white European elites, knowing he had full security at all times against those who wished to eject him, or worse. While he was amused by his disruption of these backwards social system, he also took it seriously, as this was a way he could strike back at the white world which had taken from him his wife. The cringing snarls on the face of every bigot he saw made Rainsford a happy man; he'd stepped on toes that deserved stepping.
Aunt Hagar did not show any bigotry towards Sanger, because she too was black. Indeed, for all Sanger knew, he was of Szinca blood. Perhaps he was related to this old woman who stood before him, who also called herself Queen Mamaloi and Tahama Beulah. She stared hard at the pair, before speaking.
“Aigle Viviti, when you first came here, you found the Szincas at your service; for, through a theft of antiquity, the Czar of Russia possessed one of our girasol gems, and you obtained it while in the final Czar's service. Your showing of the girasol made the Szincas flock to your side, to aid you in your mission, granting unto you the second eye of our sacred idol.
“Recently, a comrade of yours obtained our third gem, the navel of our idol. We granted it to her on the understanding that she did your bidding. But we did not tell her the full tale—for that was something we could tell only to you.”
The vigilante did not speak, knowing that the woman would continue without his urging. But she took up his hands, and lifted them high so that the twin rings he wore were visible. The pair of girasols sparkled within their moorings.
“The navel of our idol represents a balance between the idol's eyes. For the left gem represents time, even as the right-hand one represents space. The gem I gave your ally is only half-real; some call it an aleph, though the one that was used as our idol's navel was called in the old tongue vor-na-tu. There are legends that these alephs sometimes hold the larva of monsters, monsters who are also half-real, who walk between the worlds. Among my people, it is said that these stones are tied to the roots of time because they came from such an early time in the history of the cosmos. My ancestors cut and polished aleph crystals from an enormous jewel-like tree in Africa.
“But I know, of all the Szincas, that that tree did not grow in the ancient past. It sprouted from a crack in time, a crack split open by an event that happened in an era yet to come. I believe this time may not come for another150 years. Perhaps sooner, though.” She blinked. “But we of the Szinca were descended from those born and bred in Opar. We still know the legends of the Gray-Eyed God. They are the key to the secret.”
“I will consider this information carefully,” the vigilante said. “Thank you for telling me. I have left this third girasol to the child of the woman you gave it to. I have adopted him as my own, though he is not mine.”
“He is yours, Eagle of Darkness,” Hagar replied simply. “In this world and others, he is your son.”
For a second the vigilante stayed silent, and Sanger Rainsford cast him an uncommon look. “That is not possible. She and I did not—”
“That does not matter. I see now that you fail to comprehend the riddle I have presented for you.” Hagar's face was nearly as cold as the vigilante's. “You should send the stone to another. Your distant relative, perhaps—the bronze man in New York.”
“He is indeed better equipped to handle matters of time and space than I. And perhaps he has encountered stones like it before.” He paused. “You have no regrets that all three of your gems are now gone?”
“It was foretold, young one, that these gems would pass from our possession. In fact it is the will of our gods.” She stared at him unflinchingly. “Let the bronze man examine the gem, Dark Eagle. Fulfill our destiny...and perhaps your own in the process.”
* * *
The man in black and his hunter agent stood outside the Szinca cave, preparing to leave. “Sanger, I intended to tell you at the end of our business—I shall require your identity again.”
“That's no problem, my friend. I'm going on another trip to the Congo soon and I'll be away from the world for a while. As ever few know my destination.” But the hunter paused then, seeming distracted. “I think this might be my last trip for a while, though. I-I don't mean to talk personally, but...”
“What troubles you, Rainsford?”
“Well, I'm not sure if I ever told you this...but...”
“You are thinking of your daughter.”
“Jesus! Those years in Tibet really did make you psychic, didn't they?”
“No. But there are signs. And I did some searching. I learned of young Francine. It stands to reason you'd like to return to her.”
“I don't know if we'll be able to meet up, just like that...like all these years just never happened. I think we'd have to run into each other by accident.”
Once more the vigilante did not speak. But eventually his lips moved again.
“You have served me faithfully, for many years,” the vigilante said. “We have lived as the same man, and so shall your daughter be my daughter as well. She shall be the brother of Thelda's son. I swear that I shall protect her, and watch over her. If she requires aid, of course.”
“Yeah, that's a point...I'm sure my little girl's a real scrapper,” Sanger chuckled. “Maybe she could even take your place someday.”
This time, the man once known as Kent Allard did not break his own silence. Though Sanger found his own thoughts on the trek through the jungle, The Shadow stared on ahead, heedless of what was in front of him.
He thought of what Aunt Hagar had said, about young Kent, Thelda's child, being his son. He did not know what to make of the feelings these thoughts awoke in him.
II.
June 1905
Excerpted from the files of Dr. John H. Watson:
“But Holmes,” said I, “are you quite sure?”
“Sure as I am on anything, Watson,” he replied. “It certainly is enough to make one question the reasoning behind our society's valuing such stones. Consider! A few slight chemical shifts, a few changes to the context responsible the gem's composition, and a shimmering diamond can become a gem thought of as possessing lesser value—a sapphire, a garnet.”
“Or a carbuncle.”
“Or a carbuncle! My dear man, a carbuncle most commonly expresses itself in the form of a garnet. But of course, a carbuncle can be any crimson gem...thus the jewel we encountered some fifteen years prior suffered a severe misnomer. But then, geese don't have crops, do they? Save for, it would seem, a mutant species native to England. Despite the example used in my prior speculation, it seems this gem has obtained for itself an upgrade. There is no doubt that the Blue Diamond I battled Lupin for was the same gem.”
“But how can you be sure?”
“As you often tend to, Watson, you've delayed in asking the correct question. It was a matter of studying the change of hands. I followed the trails that connected one gem to another. A long string of criminal connections brought the gem into its 'proper' owner's hands. I recognize now it would change nothing if I had allowed Lupin to escape with the jewel. It is destined, it seems, to forever burden a fresh owner.”
“You seem to use the word 'burden' with a particular emphasis.”
“Indeed. The papers I stole from Lupin suggest a darker mystery.”
“Holmes, surely you can't believe those documents! That Manders fellow must have been truly insane!”
“Recall, Watson, my oft-repeated dictum on eliminating the impossible. Just seven years ago, London was assaulted by what appeared to be extraterrestrial invaders. To suggest that this jewel is an egg for that mysterious, unknown worm is hardly extraordinary given the circumstances. I met both A.J. Raffles and his assistant, and while they were both possessed of a criminal nature they were entirely sane. I have considered that there is every indication it is the very same gem as the famed Moonstone, again, based on a reading of the changing of hands. Such a name gives a hint towards its origins, which are farther than one may initially think. You know, I believe it was during the Martian invasion that a man named Cave had access to a stone that allowed him to see the surface of Mars. I wonder if there is a connection.”
“Another type of gem, another color...this is too much like when you suggested the Pink Diamond of Lugash was another instance of this jewel.”
“The Lugashi maintain that their pink treasure contains an image of a springing panther. This image within the gem could be one of the alien worms.” Then he paused and did not continue, as if he privately felt he had said too much.
I was unused to my friend acting this tangential. Ordinary Holmes was keen, grounded, and focused; and yet there was something about this evening which took a strange toll on his mind. Although I feared the association he'd draw between the Blue Diamond and a mention of the man who stole it, I tried again to direct Holmes' thought on the matter of what was to be done with Monsieur Arsène Lupin—
[Here the account ends—it appears as if Watson never finished documenting this adventure, whatever it might have been. This document was found in the secret files of a building known to belong at one time to the organization known as Krafthaus.]
III.
June 1934
86.
85.
84.
The enemy had disabled the elevator. Dr. James Clarke Wildman Jr. counted the floors as he ran down.
83.
82.
81.
The bronze-skinned adventurer could have taken the time to fix the elevator, but even with the above-average speed at which he could perform such a task, it was still faster for him to sprint down the stairs of the skyscraper whose top floor cradled his base. The muscles in his legs were stronger than average, and he had a greater lung capacity than most people. For every three seconds a normal personal would take in descending the stairs, he took one. He could not let that specimen leave the building.
80.
79.
78.
His brain was on fire as it rushed with all the possibilities. He knew he would have to run over his data again. It was still a long way down, but for the next sixty-odd floors he considered of his recent discoveries.
Allard had been by his lab last night. If Doc wasn't pleased to see the shadowy vigilante standing in his base of operations, his face didn't convey it. But the men were like sculptures, one of bronze and one of jet-black marble.
He donated the stone, along with an incomplete document taken from one of offices held by the Moriarty brothers, written by Dr. John Watson. He explained that the stone was not a true stone, but instead something more powerful. The gem had taken many forms throughout time, and as Doc held it, it took on the form of a ruby. Allard had told him, as he departed, that it was supposed to be a girasol. Watson's writing indicated it was both a diamond and a garnet.
Doc did not see the world in terms of liking or disliking things, but he was uncomfortable holding the stone, once he was alone with it. It had a faint tactile resonance to it, like it was a power source. As he held the gem he had the sensation of an outside view of himself, as if he was watching himself through a camera. Yet the Doc Wildman he watched was not him. Briefly, he saw himself standing shirtless, with a dark hood covering his head; the gem in his hand was set into the front of his hood. Then this image faded away, and the hood vanished from the image Doc saw of himself. He was wearing a shirt once again but there was a band wrapped around his arm, a band of red fabric with a black-and-white symbol on it. Doc recognized this as a political symbol used by Hitler's men out in Germany. Though this image lasted only a splinter of a second, like the one before, Doc felt a certain degree of disgust at seeing this version of himself, and gently set the stone down.
He would take it up again after a moment. This time he saw himself again, as if someone had snapped a picture of him from above. Another image, lasting only a hair of a microsecond—he held in his arms a woman who he did not recognize, but who shared features with that French thief from decades back, Lupin. Doc thought briefly of the minor affection he had for Princess Monja of the Mayans, but only out of speculative curiosity.
The final image was the strangest of all of them. Doc saw himself standing in a cave lit by torches. He was looking up at nine shadowy figures, nodding to their words as if swearing to obey commands. He tried to look at the face of the foremost of these nine shadows, but he saw only a somehow-familiar smile before the image disappeared.
The nine figures reminded Wildman of an account he'd read from 1930, by the adventurer the Comte Jacques de Trémeuse. In 1929 the Comte and a man named Mystère discovered a crystal which brought them knowledge from a prehistoric civilization. Doc speculated there was some connection between this gem and that crystal. Nine mysterious men, along with a rogue archaeologist named Belloq, had pursued the Comte and Mystère with the intent of destroying the crystal.
This was all before he read the Watson text. That was what started to put it all into place.
It was not Watson's account by itself that drew Doc's attention. His allusion to the Raffles encounter brought images to his mind, ones far more unsettling than anything he'd seen in the crystal. He remembered the chamber in de Musard's castle. He remembered the baby bones, and the rusted knife.
That gem was the key to deciphering many of the great mysteries that had haunted Doc from what was effectively the beginning of his life. It was the key to learning more about the monster he'd found in Antarctica, and maybe even the citadel Johnny had discovered. He needed to get it back.
But the thief was clever, with that elevator trick. How had he discovered that Doc had the gem so quickly? To Doc it was both frustrating and suspicious that this had all transpired when his aides were away on work.
12...11...10...
The bronze man had only just broken a sweat. But he felt a tiredness in his lungs and a burning sensation in his gold-flecked eyes. It didn't matter. He had no intention of giving up.
7...6...5...4...
He would be upon the thief soon. He could not outrun him. He focused dead ahead, intending to search for any trace of a man on the run.
3...2...1...!
He made it. The ground floor.
But where...?
He scanned the various persons around him, observing swiftly that none of them appeared to be out of breath. Impossible. He could have ducked into one of the apartments above—but Doc would never know unless he looked. He would contact the proper authorities to begin the search. And if there was no luck, then he would go on the hunt. He'd get the jewel back.
IV.
Winter, ~ 10,000 BCE
The tundras were dark with the rage of a blizzard. Through the black-and-white wastelands trekked the solitary form of a man; he seemed ill-dressed for this climate, for these winds that threatened to turn warm flesh to rigid ice. Yet the barbarian-king was used to environs such as these—he had faced far worse in the life he led, which seemed to him to be much longer than it was measured in years. He wore a grim expression, but this was not an unusual face for him to take. He grimaced even when he was in more comfortable climes.
Conan's thoughts were dire ones. His love, Zenobia, had been taken by the Khitai sorcerer Yah Chieng. He had faced down the warlocks of the world often enough to know what sorts of dire fates awaited her in those distant, mildewed dungeons. He swore by his blade that no bride of his would be left begging for death.
He also had an oath to the people for whom he was king. The queen was beloved among all the people of Aquilonia, to the point where some sects worshipped her as their goddess. These Servants of the Black Robe hailed Zenobia as the center of their faith, often taking beautiful virgins to their temples to pose as the transubstantiated incarnation of his wife. Conan was simultaneously amused and disturbed by these activities, yet his wife often advised him of the political ramifications of persecuting the cult that sprang up in her honor.
It was times like these that Conan wished for the swift maturation of his son, so that he may have a successor to the throne. Though the wind tore as his skin and lungs, the king felt more comfortable in these wild lands than he did on this throne, governing the lives of hundreds of thousands. He ruled honorably, yet he knew he had been a thief, a pirate, a killer, a rogue. So too were many kings, and yet Conan's brow was troubled on occasion by these contradictions he saw in himself. His good kingship was said to be guaranteed thanks to a hitherto-unknown descent from King Elessar of Hyaralondie, but such talk came from his advisers, who were often as untrustworthy as the Aquilonians of old. He'd learned long ago that politicians mostly sought power, and they obtained it by currying favor with the powerful.
In any case, the Black Robe had its opposition, and might not last forever. An army of woman-warriors had appeared to serve as the cult's rivals. These women were led by a mysterious witch known as Surama, who was said to be one of the oldest people in the world, though she walked in a young woman's guise. A male sorcerer called Kathulos was said to have taken Surama's name to lead a faction of his own. Yet the Order of Surama—the real Surama—brought with it its own concerns. Their ranks were said to include the vampire Akivasha, who had once threatened Zenobia as Yah Chieng did now.
Akivasha was probably the same as Lilitu, the night-spirit who was whispered about anxiously in Aquilonia. After becoming king, Conan had learned many names for the blood-drinking demoness: the Empress of the Lilin, the Whore of Thulsa Doom, the Witch-Queen of Angmar, the Dark Goddess of the Skeksis. He did not understand all these names but they all pointed to one conclusion: Akivasha was not anything mortal, and probably never had been. She was probably like the things of the pit, those detested by Crom, who walked among shepherds and other innocent folk, whom they made their pawns. Beings like Hastur and the like, whose names were not to be named.
Now the barbarian-king was wondering if such beings had something to do with the strange structure he had just come across. Jutting out from the relentless depths of snow was a jagged pillar made of gleaming crystal.
It was gigantic, and indeed he had seen it on the horizon and made it his goal, even as he'd held his private musings. Now that he was close to it had no idea who could have crafted it. Was it of Khitai making? Atlantean? Or perhaps those monsters he had just thought of, who writhed and gibbered hideously at the dark edges of sanity. How long had it been here? Was he the first of these lands to find it?
He was calm as he grew closer to it, walking cautiously. The winds formed an eerie music around him. But there was also a strange tone within his mind, growing louder with each passing step. It became clear to him that at the base of the spire was a chamber; the crystal was thin at the side he approached, allowing him to peer inside. There was something opposite him, a light of some kind. The music in his head seemed to compel him. He was seized with the desire to break in.
His sword did the trick, shattering the wall with ease. He did not sheath his blade. In the light that came from the chamber inside the crystal, he could see his breath fog before him.
What was this place? He entered slowly, and the music became nearly deafening. Before him, the light flickered and flashed like a burning campfire, glowing in colors from all parts of the rainbow. The flame wobbled faster as Conan approached. He knew in an instant it was responding to his presence.
Suddenly, it sparked up, and began to cover the wall before him. Conan backed away and raised his sword defensively, but the flame stopped after a certain limit, and now flashed again, to reveal an image that looked like a mirror. For Conan saw himself staring back at him, also holding a sword in self-defense.
But something was wrong. Not only was this “reflection” holding its sword on the wrong side; but the sword he held was not his own. Now he began to see other differences. His other self had clothing similar to his, but made of different materials; and he bore scars on his body that Conan lacked, or had in different places.
“Who are you?” Conan demanded.
“Who are you?” his double echoed. “Who are you to speak to King Grignr?”
He had revealed his name, now Conan did the same. “I am Conan of Cimmeria, King of Aquilonia. I came across your crystal tower in search of my queen Zenobia, who has been abducted.”
“My tower? Surely you jest. I know this tower is yours, Conan of Cimmeria—or is there another reason I find you here?”
Conan's quick mind and senses were fast deciphering the riddles of this place. Certain ideas just made sense. The man called Grignr was too much like him to offer any other interpretation than what he conceived—furthermore, it was clear that the fire that had made this portal form was as unnatural to this world as Akivasha.
“Your Highness,” Conan said respectfully, “I believe that what you and I are experiencing now is a sign of two worlds coming together. Look at me. I am you, in a world where our youths were passed differently. I have traveled long and hard over a strange world, and I can believe at this point in my life that this idea is true.”
“Even if that is true, I don't like the look of you,” Grignr said. “I don't trust a man who wears my face, albeit less handsomely. Tell me, Conan, do bards sing or write of you?”
“I have inspired lines, yes,” Conan said.
“Ha! You speak in tones of false humility. You are a proud man, Conan, but no man who is proud lacks a reason for his pride! Your gods whisper to you, do they not, to bring this notion of two worlds? Now my gods, the true gods, whisper in my ear, and tell me that you are a great hero in your world. Beloved and feared alike. And I despise you for that, Conan of Cimmeria. I am a great hero as well, but I am cursed by the gods. No skalds or poetasters dare to even scribble of me, for fear of mockery. I am joined by a bard, Îrinnedsli, but he is a black-lotus-crazed drunkard. He actually fancies himself a wizard, inhaling the smoke of those evil flowers like some copycat Thoth-Amon.”
Conan shuddered briefly upon realizing that Thoth-Amon existed in both worlds. Grignr continued his rant: “I pray every night that the bard's opium-sodden rags never see survival beyond my fast-approaching death. If they were to be translated into later tongues, the unfortunate soul who brought it to light would be as cursed as I, damned to eternal mockery.”
The other man seemed to have calmed down somewhat, albeit by sinking into a morass of self-pity. At that point Conan smelled alcohol on his duplicate's breath.
Grignr's head snapped up suddenly, having sunken to stare at the ground. “I think I know what causing this. It's the same thing that causes every curse I've ever suffered. It's the gem I am doomed to keep. The Eye of Argon.”
“The Eye of...Aragorn?” Conan thought back to his palace advisers once again, who talked to him of his pre-Atlantis ancestry, in the days of Dark Lords and magic rings.
“No—Argon. The Eye is the last remnant of a demonic invasion into my world; it is sometimes called the Fire of Asshurbanipal. Warlocks make human sacrifices to call monsters into the Eye. They germinate within and the gem shifts to the form of their worm-like bodies. The Eye always finds its way back to me, no matter how often I sell it, usually when it has been impregnated with a creature who is about to break out. I wrestle it back into the form of a gem, usually a different gem than it was before. It is a wretched thing, and I regret ever claiming it.”
It was then that a strange, savage glimmer came into Grignr's eyes. He grinned, and it was the sort of grin that made Conan raise his sword. The other man didn't seem to care.
“Perhaps we are brothers, across a gap wider than any man can know,” Grignr said. “But that means that there is a chance the gem will not know me from you.” He laughed then, and his hand sprang his pocket, seizing out of it a glowing ruby. “Catch, you unfortunate fool!”
The stone flew through the portal and landed at Conan's feet. But even after it halted its journey, it retained movement. The thing slowly became jelly-like, unfolding into an oblong shape that stretched and strained into an ever-lengthening serpentine body. Yet it was much more worm-like than draconic, despite the people of the land often using the word “worm” to mean a dragon. He looked up from the growing thing to see that now the rainbow-fire was collapsing. The portal was closing.
“Just as I'd hoped—the transfer of magicks has severed the temporary connection between our worlds,” Grignr laughed. “The monster is your problem now. May fortune smile upon you the same as it has on me!”
Grignr's vulgar form vanished then, and Conan bade him a bitter good riddance. Then, without a moment's further hesitation, he set upon the worm-creature.
It made an unnatural shrieking sound at him as he began to hack at its body; thick blood spat from its pulpy flesh. But it turned on him, and lunged forward with the force of an ocean wave.
Anything that tried to pin Conan to the ground would face his blade. There was no bone interrupting the sword's arc, and so in that instant he split the thing open head to tail. Yet it still flailed atop him, smearing his body with a nauseating wetness, a combination of blood and a slime secreted through the beast's skin. With a roar he threw it off of him, but instead of writhing on the ground in death, the thing instead pounced at him again.
Conan was on the ground, his muscles weakening fast. The body of the monster shimmered and churned, sometimes taking on a shape that seemed almost human. Was it copying him? It was a hideous thing to consider.
It was here that Conan saw something that made him realize he'd been underestimating his foe: the creature's wounds were closing themselves. If the thing had somehow turned its gem-egg into an extension of itself, and then formed that egg into its adult worm incarnation, then it stood to reason it could seal its own wounds. He wouldn't last long enough to see the upper limits of its healing powers—not by just hacking and slashing at it. He needed to employ a degree of strategy.
Below him, the crystals of the wall he'd shattered scratched at his back. Long crimson ribbons marred his flesh. All around him, that crystal sparkled, a series of potential weapons, if only he could break them off.
Not like they would be of much use. They would do as much damage as his sword, and he could only wield one besides his blade. They could maybe help him get away but the thing would pursue him to the ends of the world. In any case, Conan was not one for running away. But he was thinking now of this tower of frozen swords beyond the use of just one.
He knew what he had to do. With a surge of strength, he hurled the creature off of him once again, and immediately turned his sword towards the sparkling walls. It would take many strikes to break through these thicker segments, but his arms were stronger and fast. Shards of quartz splintered off in a thick spray, until at last he broke through to the other side. Cracks ran along the whole base of the tower. Striking the opposite point from where he'd punched through would bring down the whole spire.
The monster blocked his path, but he would never surrender. Thinking quickly, he hurled his sword past the creature, until the blade's tip piercing the fractured surface. It cleaved straight through, due to his strength and true aim. The loud crack that emerged resonated through the entire crystal. Then, a radiating path of fractures split the roof of the tower above them.
He ran, hoping that the creature, having hatched but moments ago, would be sufficiently surprised. He was correct—its bulky body remained trapped within the structure as it fell to ruins. Conan looked back to see something he hadn't guessed before. Somehow the tower was mounted atop the snow, and now that the tower was imploding the snow collapsed under it. The worm would be dragged down below the snow, after suffering impalement from the crystals. Perhaps the weight of the crystals would even bury it below the ground.
Conan was perplexed. He did not understand the meaning behind what had just happened, if there was one. All he knew was that he had stopped something dreadful from happening—he had halted the path of a monster that would bring further peril to Aquilonia than the kingdom already faced. He thought briefly to stop and inspect the pit which was now rapidly filling up with snow. But there was no time. Zenobia was far ahead of him, and he couldn't be detained further. He would need all of his strength to press onward. All he did was recover his sword.
As he walked away, however, he remembered the eerie word of Grignr. He had called the Eye of Argon, the jewel from which the monster sprang, a curse. He had claimed to battle the worm-creature many times while traveling with the gem. Somehow, Conan of Cimmeria sensed that below that earth and ice was a sparkling stone, waiting to be dug up by those doomed to a horrible fate.
* * *
Almost 12,000 years passed, and geography and language shifted dramatically. Yet some things remained permanent. There was talk in the region of the Jewel of Argon, and while eventually the gem was long forgotten, the name remained: Argonne. This forest in France served as the staging ground for a bloody battle during the first of the World Wars of Earth's history. Perhaps the Eye of Argon was buried there still, and acted on the human magnetism that existed in two of the participants of the battle. It was at the Battle of Argonne that James Clarke Wildman Jr. met John Drummond-Clayton, adopted son of a jungle-lord who was in truth Wildman's cousin. Through Drummond-Clayton, Wildman met the jungle-lord, who shared with him a chemical formula that was the secret to eternal youth.
While Wildman and Korak first shook hands in the battered remains of the forest, a man crawled from the wreckage of the plane called the Scarlet Dragon. Baron Kurt von Hessel, who more often preferred the name “Karl,” smiled triumphantly.
V.
January 1919
This letter was discovered crumpled and unmailed in a house in Argonne, France, by Infinity Trust agents. Graphological studies matched the handwriting of the letter to that found in the log of the 19th Century ship Ghost, captained by one Larsen.
My dear Countess,
It feels like ages since I have written a letter—perhaps it was yesterday, perhaps it was a thousand years ago. I ordinarily do not entrust either messengers or traditional postage, yet recently I have discovered a secretive mail service that grew out of the old Thurn-und-Taxis Post in the Holy Roman Empire, which is willing to serve me in exchange for information on an enemy of theirs. Their age-old rivalry with another hidden postal service is fascinating, and I believe the resemblance between this dualistic conflict and a war between a certain pair of alien factions is not coincidental, just as it's not coincidental that those aliens would manufacture time-machines from a crystal tree grown among people who worship a pair of Twin Gods. But that is not the purpose of my letter. I hope that your recovery is proceeding quicker with each passing day.
Another stone has furthered my goals, Countess. Buried low in the earth the Eye of Argon acted on the human magnetic moment of my relatives, drawing them together. Of course, even if my theories about that attractive force were incorrect, I had manipulated young Drummond-Clayton's good friend Tom Miller into taking 'Korak' to the right time and place. I knew that the Aquilonian tablet would carry me far. I thank Conan for leaving this vital seed planted in the earth. I wonder if I ever bred with the Cimmerian's descendants over the years.
I have considered, Countess, after these long years of using the alien distorter, that the human magnetic moment has a root cause, just as the ultimate source of the distorter's crystal was a mineral-vegetable being which, like the useful shraask, only existed on the 'other side' of Time. I am nearly sure that it was the moment which brought the mineral king into this world that also granted the human magnetic moment to John Gribardsun. After all, upon his journey into the past, Gribardsun lived back through history as Sahhindar, the God with Grey Eyes. I have considered that Sahhindar and Gribardsun could be alive at the same time, though many maxims and edicts of science fiction and exotic physics dictate that that is impossible. But consider that these two instances of Gribardsun resist each other in a way that bends the cosmos around them—creating their 'magnetism.' Giving them the lives of adventure that granted them that moment in the first place.
So too does young Wildman live two lives—two lives with two wives, though I wish not to remind you of your one-time passion for him, my dear. I know you can be quite envious. But in one world, the Mayan girl is Wildman's paramour; in another, he is married to the daughter of the French thief. In his future, he finds the key to splitting his lives, just as Gribardsun finds it in the late 21st Century.
Of course, this distorter also grants me images of worlds far stranger than that created by the pianist's theft of the stone from Wildman's laboratory; ah, I have not yet spoken to you of that. I refer to the theft which cast the stone backwards in time twelve millennia, where its impact reshaped time to create two worlds. You remember my account of my 'brother' from another world, where Wildman was called Caliban, and Gribardsun, Grandrith. That world was spawned by Gribardsun's chronal journey. The world made by the pianist's blunder was a different one, where Wildman kept his name but wore a mystic hood upon his head.
Yet Time is a force of Chaos, and Chaos has bred yet other worlds: once, I made contact with a timeline where Gribardsun possessed two personalities. One was an illiterate brute who spoke only in broken sentences. Paradoxically, his alternate self was well-spoken and took to wearing clothing. He varied between calling himself 'Johnny' and 'Jim.' In some other forsaken corner of time, Gribardsun existed in yet another failed form, where he was a vulgar maniac, seemingly possessed of a heroin addiction. I still remember the foul odor of his ape companion, whom he dubbed 'Brachiate Bruce.' I will tell you now, my dear, that there were times in these journeys when I believed to be parted from my sanity; but I have lived far too long to go mad now.
I've found that there are writers on Earth who channel these odd realities into their fiction through their dreams. I have investigated the potential usefulness of these psychic scribes, and their relationship to the human magnetic moment; yet it has proven to be an irritation, as even by writerly standards, these individuals are eccentrics. Obscure occultist favorite Irene K'thalnova is one of them, along with the self-proclaimed 'Ghoul King' Yaubus Redford, but those two are dwarfed in lunacy by a friend of theirs, a rather useless madwoman by the name of Astraea Malina Bayrolles. Bayrolles (alias 'Manos,' or 'Lamb') lives a long life and by the time of her mysterious and unsolved murder in 1994 she has made a number of odd contributions to metaphysical theory, including the idea that the events of the 'video games' of the late 20th Century take place in a borderland at the edge of the universe, and that time-traveling Moreau-gorillas alter our world's history at will. A most confusing and dangerous woman—worse even than her own literary hero, Pegasus Johnson Farrell, who in 1912 decided to use an event from the 'Brachiate Bruce' timeline to tell a surprisingly riveting novel of governmental and dimensional manipulation called The Newfangled Engine (also published as The Tale of An Exploding Ticket). But that text vanished from our universe in January of 1918, under circumstances as strange as Ms. Bayrolles' murder. As least I know who slew Bayrolles. You would have quite enjoyed her final screams, child.
To expedite my return to the world of sanity, I decided to investigate the future of other men who are holders of the human magnetic moment. Using the same type of immortality I have just conferred upon my grandson here at Argonne, the man once called Allard simply translated his alias to become L'Ombre, the ostensible son of the avenger Judex. Allard's cousin Rassendyll also received the formula, and he was still alive in the early 1960s under the name 'Jet Jackson.' Rassendyll shared the drug with his half-brother Wentworth, and in late 1970s Wentworth is still active as 'Blue Steel.' At least, that is true in one version of those eras. Once again I call your attention to the pianist's blunder. The Ruby has perhaps created multiple fractures in time. Yet were it not for one of those otherworlds, the pianist would not have bungled things to begin with. He was tripped up by a creature from another timeline known as Count Wampire. But that is a tale for another day.
I am yours in eternity, and through eternity shall you know this lesson: the universe lies, and to win power, one must carry the lies of time and space.
VI.
July 1934
In 1918, pianist Stephen Orlac got in a train wreck that cost him his hands. But thanks to the work of a surgeon named Cerral, Orlac had received a new pair. To his horror, however, the pair of hands he received belonged to a murderer, and the hands themselves seemingly compelled him to kill. Yet he and his wife had prevailed in the end, exposing the truth behind the murders that surrounded him. Those had been in different times, before he explored his ancestry, and made deals with devils.
Stephen Orlac knew that he had made a colossal mistake.
Worse, he had committed it in service of his Master. The punishment would be dire. Orlac knew that he would need a tremendous offering in order to appease the one he obeyed. One that would perhaps take years to trap and sacrifice. Did the Dark Lord know that the Bronze Man was like a demon from Hell? Of course, to the Master, demons were faithful servants. To a mortal man like Stephen Orlac, however, Dr. Wildman was as terrifying as any monster of mythology.
He thought he'd been safe for a month, but then he'd noticed the Bronze Man's assistants snooping around his rural hotel, which he'd once thought to be a safe distance from New York City. One of them, the ape-like man who was perhaps the most annoying individual Orlac had ever met, had spotted him. He had left the hotel without his wristwatch and the simian-man spotted the scars that indicated where he had a new pair of hands attached, after his 1918 accident. He ran for the fields near the hotel. Somehow the fields went on and on, and Orlac ran for hours. He was not an athletic man and he knew the Bronze Man would catch up to him. But he wondered if his Master was watching over him when he saw that Wildman came alone. What had happened to his assistants?
That was not the question Orlac asked himself again and again as he ran. That question was: “What is this stone I've stolen?”
All Orlac knew was that it was desired by his Master, and that it had been stolen before—once by a man named Bozzo-Corona, and once by the killer Fantômas. When Orlac touched it, strange visions swam in his mind. Suddenly, the face of a bald man stared out at him with a desperate and accusatory expression on his face. Somehow, he distantly resembled the surgeon Cerral, but a voice lashed into his mind, pronouncing the duosyllabic name “Gogol.” Then another face appeared before him, this time speaking the word “Vampire” with a thick Romanian accent. The face was pale and gaunt, possessed of red eyes and white hair, with the latter making up a large shock-white mustache. This was the face of his Master: the immortal monster known as Dracula.
Just as he asked himself repeatedly what the stone was, he was assailed over and over again with a feeling of malice. It stemmed from the image of this other Dracula, this Count Wampire. He had sensed, somehow, that Wampire—if he was even real—intended to cross over into Orlac's timeline, and invade, to have a new ground on which to feed.
But such a thing was impossible. Orlac could believe he was the descendant of the King of Vampires, but there were no other worlds but this, and the people of those worlds couldn't invade another world even if they did exist. It was too challenging for even the greatest technology to travel between different points in time. Stephen Orlac wasn't sure of much these days, but he could be sure of that.
All the same, his caution produced a scream when he turned to see his Master behind him. Under the dark of the night, he was barely visible amid the treeline that stood in Orlac's hours-long path.
For a moment, he thought he was the Bronze Man. Then, when he saw the deathly pallor of the skin, he wondered if it was Wampire. But the face starred at him with perfect familiarity. It was hard to mistake that monstrous alien distance that separated the ancient vampire from the human species to which he ostensibly once belonged.
“M-my Lord...”
“Where is the stone?” Dracula demanded. “Give it to me at once.”
“O-of course, my Lord. But there have been...there have been developments.”
“You and I both knew that Wildman would pursue you.”
“No, my Lord. Touching the stone...it gave me a vision. I saw you, but—but in a different form.”
“I have many bodies across many lands, Stephen Orlac. I have learned to transform others into extensions of my will, or else grow homunculi who are satellites in a similar fashion.”
“No, this was different. This was on another world.”
Dracula looked impatient.
“I have enlisted you to acquire the star-stone. Give it to me now.”
Orlac couldn't resist him. He gave him the stone. But he observed that his Master's fingers flinched away from the gem, before they closed around it.
Then Dracula gave a roar of pain.
“What is this?!” he hissed. “The stone resists me. But I am the master of the star-stones! I have used them to create my other selves!”
He roared again, and suddenly there was a burst of crimson light. It swallowed up the gem and suddenly, the stone was gone.
“It must have reacted with the magicks I carry in my body,” said Dracula quietly. “There is something about that stone that separates it from the star-stones I have used in my rituals. The one I used to create my scepter.”
Orlac recalled that Dracula had crafted a wolf-headed cane which was a source and symbol of his power. It was set with a star-stone. The cane had been part of the collection of a man called Stanton, who had recently lost it to a Romani band. He swore to get it back some day.
“This requires greater consideration. I have no further use for you at present, Orlac. I will depart. Pursue me at your own peril.”
“But—but my Lord. What about Wildman? Surely you can't...”
“Do not presume to command me, pianist. You share my blood, but not my rank. I shall now take leave of you.”
And Dracula vanished into the forest. Orlac dared not follow him. Which meant that Wildman had him cornered.
He had no way of defending himself. He could see the Bronze Man now, and in minutes he would be upon him. He remained frozen with terror, awaiting the end of things.
But then, in his peripheral vision, he saw a flash within the forest. There was a strange light forming within the darkness of the night. His breath choked in his throat. Was this salvation from his Master? A last-minute display of mercy?
“Stephen Orlac,” Wildman called, “it's all over. I want the Ruby.”
“I-it's gone. I don't have it anymore!”
“I know for a fact you had no chance to unload it onto a fence or any other illicit buyer. Where is it?”
“I turned it over to the one who sought it. But he lost it.”
“In such a short time?”
Orlac couldn't explain what happened, not without the Bronze Man doubting him. But now, Wildman caught a glimpse of the lights within the forest. His eyes narrowed, and Orlac heard a strange trilling sound emerge from the adventurer's pinched-tight lips. What alarmed Orlac is that that trill had a twin. It came from the shadows of the woods.
From the darkness emerged a second Dr. Wildman. But to Wildman's shock, it was the alternate version of himself he'd seen in the light of the Ruby—the shirtless incarnation who wore the Ruby as part of a hood that clothed his head. There was something wrong with him, however; his face was twisted in a hateful snarl, and his eyes blazed red like those of a demon from Hell. Orlac knew in an instant that this other Wildman was a vampire, and for the Wildman of Orlac's universe, it was an instant's deduction.
The two stared at each other in silence for many moments.
“Who turned you into this?” the main Wildman asked at last.
“I have learned to serve the Dark Lord Count Wampire,” said the alternate Bronze Man. “The Ruby is his. It is his star-stone, his source of clones and werewolves. I thought it belonged to the monks of Tibet I obtained it from. But those monks were the disciples of Kah, High Priest of the Seven Vampires. I used the Ruby to destroy beings like my Master, until at last I embraced my destiny.”
Wildman had begun simply referring to his vampiric duplicate as “The Other” in his mind. In sociology and psychology, The Other had significance in the conceptualization of the Self, on both a personal and national level. In his mind, The Other Wildman represented a comparison, a parallel in a sense of the Shadow, as Freud and Jung understood it. Wildman did not believe in fate, but there was something about battling one's own id, one's own inner darkness, that represented a significant point in one's personal development. To him, it was not a matter of whether he would defeat or destroy this other self—that was the fearful approach of lesser men. It was what he would learn at the end of everything when he defeated The Other.
“I believe you understand what's coming next,” Wildman said.
“I do,” The Other replied. “My Master has seen you in his Ruby. He knows that you are one of the principle obstacles to his invasion.”
Wildman did not give one-liners; he did not need verbal permission to start a fight. The Other was a threat, and he had infinite jurisdiction to strike against him.
Orlac watched as the muscled bronze shape that was his pursuer lunged towards the other bronze shape, who was his savior. That was all he could take. He bolted away, with every intent to run on until he found a town where he could get transportation. Then he would find an airport and get back to France. He knew that Dracula would seek him again—or was it that he hoped he would? Now that the vampire's great presence was gone, Orlac found himself growing weaker.
He recalled the tale of the man Renfield.
Then he ran faster, so he could make himself hurt.
The two James Wildmans were left alone. Left to the wisdom of the Shadow.
* * *
The Other blocked Doc's lunge easily, stalling his momentum in the air. But Wildman's quick hands took The Other's wrists, and he kicked him hard in the stomach. He mostly wanted to get distance between himself and his double, so that those fangs couldn't strike him. But The Other resisted the blow, and he wasted no time in grappling Wildman to haul him closer. Doc was not surprised by the strength in those arms—after all, they were his own, and unlike many physically-powerful men, he knew his own strength.
And he knew how to escape his own grip. He had enough freedom in his arms to strike at The Other's elbows, striking a nerve that released his tight pinch. The Other's reflexes were dulled by his undead status, but evidently his nervous system still had some sensitivity. That meant he might be paralyzed when Doc used the opening to lash at one of the nerves in his counterpart's neck, once he'd wriggled free from his grip. Sure enough, The Other let out a cry and toppled forward. Still, this was not victory. As soon as he hit the ground, his arm reached for Doc's ankle, and pulled him down. With all his strength Doc fought against the tug on his leg, but he fell forward, only barely having time to face back up again when The Other climbed atop him to pin him to the ground.
The Other hissed and opened his mouth wide, revealing long, pointed canines. With one hand, Doc gripped him by the throat, like he was handling an enormous, venomous snake. The Ruby on the vampire's forehead glistened strangely. Doc's other hand groped at The Other's hood, trying to tear the stitching on the frame that held the Ruby to the fabric. At this, The Other seemed to panic, and his fist slammed hard into Doc's torso. He anticipated the blow, and as it struck his legs kicked upward, and he once more shoved his double off of him.
“You should welcome the bite,” The Other said. “Our father wanted us to be stronger, remember? Wampire's blessing is the key to this power. You could set right this world of yours if you became that much harder to destroy.”
At the mention of the words “our father,” Doc hesitated. But then he found words.
“You may be the son of James Wildman, but we are not the same,” he said. “My father would want me to fight this condition with all my strength, and you have given into it.”
The Other wavered, and for a second his face became more like Doc's own.
“Or have you?” Doc continued. “If you are like me, then you can still fight. What our father gave us is still in there.”
The Other struggled as he considered Doc's words. But the Ruby flashed; Doc knew it was by the will of the hidden monster, Wampire. He realized that he couldn't go to that other world to fight Wampire. Only his Other self could stand a chance against him, and to do that he needed to be without his hood.
Doc hoped that there was a fighter beneath that hood—he could never use it again once he took it from him. But he stood by what he said. He could trust him.
He made it look so easy, but in truth it was only possible through years of training. So much had changed in the long years since Loki, since Meuse-Argonne. He was something truly astonishing now. The Other moved with superhuman speed, and Doc whirled around like a dancer to catch the vampire in his arms. This time he held him from behind, trapping his arms and leaving his mouth pressed close to his counterpart's ear.
“Work with me,” he whispered.
Then, he released one arm. In that instant, The Other could have struck out at him and brought a new round to the battle. But his concentration flickered, and Doc seized the hood in his strong hand. He tore the fabric away from his duplicate's head, exposing tangled locks of untrimmed bronze hair. At once, the red tone in the alternate Wildman's eyes faded away. Doc hurled the hood into the brush beyond them, where the jewel glittered in the shadows.
The once-hooded James Wildman sighed, and blinked. He looked out at the horizon, and saw the sunrise coming up on them. He did not fear it, as he once had.
His voice came out with a strange and uncanny confidence: “I was told that thing was called the Powerstone. I believed it was my fate to accept it. The abilities it gave me were...incredible.” He seemed to laugh then. Doc raised an eyebrow, but only because he realized the critical factor that differentiated him from the other man: this Wildman grew up in a world where he believed in fate.
The face of the alternate Wildman took on a solemn expression. “Those powers belonged to Wampire. Everything I did he allowed me to do.” He stared then at Doc, with familiar gold-flecked eyes. “I will go back, and I will destroy him. Give me the Ruby.”
“I can't allow him to connect with you again.”
“I won't don the hood. I can use its power on touch. I will open a gate back to my timeline, and I will set right what that monster has made wrong.”
“But I insist on keeping the jewel in my universe. It contains the secrets to a great many mysteries of my life.”
“There is a problem with that. While I used the Powerstone, I understood that it came to my world through a long journey through time. I believe that the one called Stephen Orlac—who also exists in my universe—may have caused this journey to begin. When he gave the jewel to the Count Wampire of your world, who calls himself Dracula, the curses that Dracula bore combined with the magics of the Powerstone and sent it back to a point in time near to when it was first chiseled from a crystalline source by ancient humans. The impact of the stone's landing is what split our timeline, creating my world from yours.
“But because the jewel was the cause of the split, then it ended up existing in both timelines. The Powerstone is my timeline's version of the stone from your world. As such, it may have different properties than what you expect.”
Doc did not want to sacrifice a human life to see if a worm grew within the stone. That was the secret, he was sure—it was like the spent life-energy somehow made contact with forces on what many people called “the other side,” and impregnated the gem with an infant creature. He would see to it that no one would ever have a chance to use that gem for such a grotesque purpose. Not even his Fortress was safe. He would drop it from a plane into a locale he had recently discovered known as Skull Valley. It was an obscure jungle said to be ruled by a branch of the Cult of Ung. He doubted the Cult would be able to use the stone but they might guard it anyway. He would leave no written record of the Powerstone or where he'd hidden it.
But for now, the other Doc Wildman needed to go home.
He took up the hood, and for a second, Doc thought he was going to put it on. But instead, he raised it before him. It was a psychic process; slowly, the light Doc had seen earlier reappeared, and it began to eat away at the space before them, until it formed a gate. A nigh-identical forest stood before them. Somehow, the other Doc knew at once that it was home.
He approached the gate, and at first the Doc who stayed behind thought they would part without words. They did, but at the last moment, his double turned back, and flashed a grin at Doc as he waved his hand.
He tossed the hood back through the opening, and the gate closed. The dark fabric and the sparkling was at Doc's feet, awaiting the fate he chose for them.
He stood there contemplating for a moment. He considered that if time varied because the jewel had created shifts in time, then there was the full possibility that he himself wasn't the “real” Doc Wildman. As such, it was possible that, as far as the larger cosmos was concerned, this adventure of his may have only happened in an alternate timeline.
It didn't matter. He took the gem, and weeks later he flew a small private plane over the jungles of Skull Valley, and let it fall it to the ground, to be lost forever. Or so he hoped.
VII.
Outside Time
Qiang Jiantou watched on the viewscreen as Stephen Orlac sprinted through the trees, holding the object the Trust had identified as a Hemkra Quartz. Francine Rainsford, Theresa van Helsing, and Mórdún Saorduine were essential in making that identification. Jiantou's wife Rama was present now with him, watching the view of 1934 on the large monitor.
“He looks almost like Jones,” Jiantou said.
“I've noticed that, my love,” Rama said. “It is strange to consider that they may be relatives. After all, Bacchus Jones used Dracula's wolf's-head cane to smash the Earth's timeline to pieces and crack open the universe's dimensional membrane, after stealing the scepter from Rood Stanton. And so...” Her voice trailed off playfully. “...the consideration of such a thing was so fascinating to me that I just had to do some digging before you called me here.” She turned off the video feed, replacing it instead with one of the Infinity Trust's data-files. As she did so, she smiled at her husband.
“I love you,” he said, with a mutual grin.
“Love you too,” Rama replied happily. “Now, we can see here that Stephen Orlac was a cousin of a Dr. Dionysus Orloff, making it all the more likely that he would have a son with a name as obscure as 'Bacchus.' I determined that he had an affair with a woman named Katja Orloff—who is—”
“Dr. Orloff's time-traveling daughter,” Jiantou said. “The Cuckoo-Girl. This just got a lot more complicated.”
“Recall, however distantly, that Katja's time-traveling abilities were exploited by a worshipper of Manos called Datu Sumlang. He impregnated her retroactively. Genetic tests reveal that Bacchus Orloff had a twin sister, Karma Orloff. While Bacchus is the son of Stephen Orlac, Datu Sumlang is the genetic father of Karma.”
“This is unusual, to say the least. Even in our line of work,” said Jiantou. “It may be strange to peer in on, but I would like to observe the birth of Bacchus and Karma.”
“I agree. We need to consider the chance that that crystal Orlac stole has something to do with Katja Orloff's powers—with why she's born in multiple eras at once.” Rama managed to summon a laugh. “I can't describe the feeling of looking back at the birth of my greatest enemy. I bet Bacchus Jones is an ugly baby.”
“Few have an opportunity such as this. We will give poor Katja privacy, but we should look for anything unusual.”
The view changed, and suddenly, they were watching a blonde-haired woman giving birth in a hospital of the 1920s. Her sounds of pain were hard to listen to—though neither of them had experienced it, they knew that the already agonizing act of childbirth was twice as challenging with twins. They lowered the volume but did not mute it.
The video that showed reality revealed nothing overly strange to them. Indeed, their viewing of the event revealed nothing out of the ordinary. All the same, late that night, Qiang Jiantou found that his wife couldn't sleep. He asked her what was wrong.
“There was someone there at the childbirth who stood out to me,” she said. “I'm sure he was just an uncle or something, but he didn't resemble any of the other family members.”
“That's strange. Which guy do you mean?”
“I mean the one with the big beard, and the monocle that was like an eyepatch. I mean the one who looked like Odin.”
“Odin? Hm, yeah, that is odd.” He sighed. “I'm sorry, my love, but I'd rather discuss it in the morning.”
“Me too,” she said. Then, quietly, so quietly her husband couldn't hear: “I don't want to have any nightmares.”
VIII.
March 1935
The large, old house that belonged to the Comte de Trémeuse was quiet this night. At least, so it seemed from the outside, and from the perspective of the rooms at the outer edges of the house. It was in the rooms nestled deep within the structure, the rooms with no windows, that contained the house's secret activity. In the depths of the creaking house was its owner, the shadowy avenger known as Judex. Before him was the crystal he had first encountered six years ago. The reward of a long search and battle against nine mysterious pursuers had shown him an image of a man who claimed to be his ancestor; he called himself Elessar. He warned that the crystal—the palantir, he had called it—had only enough power left for he and his descendant to commune once. But he needed to activate it again, and had called upon the trusted mage known as the Sâr Dubnotal to provide the charge, which he graciously did. A handful of weeks ago, Judex was contacted by a trusted family friend, his cousin in spirit if not in blood. Sometimes the Comte called him by the name he would have had, in another life: Kenton Lupin. Kenton was the son of the Revenant, who was the leader of an organization which included Julia Orsini, his mother and predecessor in the role of Judex. The documents Kenton provided, which drew together notes from James Clarke Wildman, Sherlock Holmes, and others, suggested not only that the mission he and Mystère had undertaken was more complicated than it seemed, but that the palantir itself was more complex than it first appeared. For it was no crystal orb in truth—it most often possessed multi-faceted sides, and instead of a white glow or transparency it was lit by a radiant hue, usually blue or red. Now that the Sâr Dubnotal was gone, Judex felt a strange and newfound apprehension of the crystal ball.
But in time the white light parted, and the face he'd glimpsed six years ago reappeared. The brow of King Elessar knitted in confusion.
“I did not expect to see you again,” he said. “Has all proceeded as I requested? Does the author of your era possess the books that show the truth of the lost world?”
“I am told the first account is due for publication in a small handful of years,” Jacques de Trémeuse said. “But I am now in doubt that you have spoken the truth to me. This crystal, this palantir—I reactivated it because I have now been told that it travels in time. And where it goes, it alters time, sometimes reshaping history, and sometimes creating new worlds out of possibilities that might have been.”
The old man long dead took time to answer.
“I understood that you may have had remnant questions when the mists of time once more divided us,” said the ancient king. “And you have now followed your curiosity, with the aid of the man I knew in my time as Olórin.”
“You knew the Sâr Dubnotal?”
“Time repeats, as I told you once. But it took me long decades to comprehend the depth of Olórin's words. I did not know how many mirrors lined the corridors of Time. How many repetitions. And yet these mirrors show many aspects of Time, just as Olórin himself did. As I knew him he was both Grey and White, and yet he know other names. His spirit lives on through the one called Omega, by the grace of Lloigohrmazd. As he walked with me he walked in many lives at once.”
“I do not understand,” Judex said then. “You told me it was necessary to preserve the truth of Time from the Men in Black. And yet, you've revealed to me now that there are many instances of Time, each contradicting one another!”
“But that is the lesson,” Elessar insisted. And in that moment, Judex understood.
History's truth was that there were many Histories, some interfering with each other. And they splintered off from this strange alien stone, which was made of Time itself. The palantir was a droplet of the Blood of Time.
For a moment, reality seemed to destabilize. At the edge of time were unknowable things, of which Judex received only a passing impression. In a future dream, perhaps, he would see the wolf's-head cane that splintered Time, or the demon that waited at the border of reality to prey on a weakened universe.
But then, all that Jacques de Trémeuse knew reasserted itself in his mind. He knew the truth of his world, and that was all that mattered. Time existed in a contradictory dual state: rigid and malleable both at once.
“You have only begun to learn what wizards know in their childhoods,” the king said, with a degree of what Judex interpreted as nostalgic humor. “Time is summarized and expressed and contained within this palantir. It is the whole of Time in a single bead, which rolls with others in a grand marble-game. Each time leaving a unique and bizarre trail.”
Judex had no words. There was a part of him that believed the old man was mad. After all, he'd read the accounts that the English professor was now novelizing. When Elessar created the Ring that Judex used to become invisible, he recreated the ultimate evil of the world as his era knew it. He had turned that Ring into a force of good, true, but had he failed, he would have undone what he and his friends sacrificed so much to accomplish. Yet perhaps this contradiction was a result of the crystal as well. Perhaps there were many Kings Elessar, who each varied in some small way.
“I believe I must leave you now, descendant. I wish you well with your newfound burden. But in time, that burden shall become lighter. The truth is not always cruel madness, as some old songs say. I bid thee farewell.”
And the image faded from the mysterious crystal.
Judex was left in darkness, but he knew he also carried with him the light of truth. His ingenious mind was slowly assembling the fact that reality existed in a state stranger than any scientist had previously known; for the reality of the universe was contingent on observation. Perspective determined not only opinions and viewpoints, but also the points in history one was adjoined to by the passage of time. It was sentient, mortal will that determined the shape of the cosmos.
But such a power was as terrifying as it was enrapturing. Already dictators like Hitler were using physical force to destroy the truth of history, to instate a propagandistic one that placed him and his Nazis above all humanity. Book-burnings and murder were becoming the law of the land in Germany. Judex recalled Belloq, the archaeologist he'd run into in 1929; there was talk now he had allied himself with the Nazis. Judex desired his death all the more fervently. His, and Hitler's.
He hoped that it would be a long time before there was a serious struggle for the definition of truth. He understood that time moved on; he was not nostalgic, nor was he a traditionalist. But he realized now there was reason to fear the future.
But he had to have faith in Justice. New champions arose in the wake of his battles, to take his place. He had to believe that that would go on forever, and there would always be heroes. The world would know Truth as long as there was Justice.
~~~~~
Conclusion.
“Wow,” Roberta Thorul said then. “You weren't kidding. That was a long story.”
“That's how I live a life with multiple pasts,” Rip said. “My past is made of contradictory timelines that nonetheless exist within one continuum.”
“I was fascinated when you brought up the part of about the Powerstone. My uncle used that to fight his rival back in the '40s. It gave him nearly enough power, but not quite enough, to stop the Man of Steel.”
“It must have changed, after the Ung cult made it part of one of their idols. Your uncle never showed any signs of possession by Count Wampire.”
“I suppose.”
There was a long pause.
“Are there other versions of this stone? I don't fully feel right calling it the Powerstone, but I can't decide on calling it a diamond, a garnet, or the vor-na-tu...”
“I call it the Ruby because I first heard about it through the alternate Doc Wildman,” Rip said. “His adventures ended up being turned into comic books on our world. Through the same dream-mechanism the Baron wrote about, when he ranted about mad writers. Sometimes story ideas are leaked through from other dimensions.”
“So you're saying that our adventures are likely fictional somewhere?”
“They always have been.”
“Heh. Well, I bet the poor suckers on that other end don't realize that there are worlds where they get written about too.”
“It's a big Multiverse. And it's always moving and changing. That crystal only represents our universe, babe. That marble-game that came up? It's bigger than any wizard could ever imagine. The cosmos is just moving, living parts, in every direction, forever.”
“I wonder what it all adds up to,” Roberta then said. “I wonder if there's a greater order that the great machine is shifting towards. Is that too human a belief?”
Rip chose not to state his belief that reality only existed because everyone else from every other universe created it. If sentient life created the Multiverse, that meant there likely was a narrative, an arc, a pattern.
But he was tired of speaking, for now, and with good reason. She was sleepy now, just as he was.
“I suppose only Time will tell,” was all he said, as he took her hand.
Chapter 2: Notes
Summary:
An explanation of the references made in this story.
Chapter Text
Rip Gardenier is from my book Quinary Infinities, while his wife Roberta Thorul first appeared in Gatherings. Rip is meant to be the son of Kent Lane, who was the son of Walter Gibson's Shadow introduced in Philip José Farmer's “Skinburn” (1972). In Rick Lai's story “Shadows Reborn,” Lai suggests that Kent Lane was actually the son of Rip van Winkle (from Washington Irving's story of the same name) and Thelda Blanchet (from The Shadow novel The Death Tower); the latter was posing as The Shadow's assistant Margo Lane. The encounter between van Winkle and Blanchet is based on a sexual encounter between Margo Lane and a time-traveling Rip van Winkle seen in Farmer's “The Long Purple Wet Dream of Rip van Winkle” (1981). Kent contains both timelines: he is the biological son of Kent Allard and Margo Lane, and also the biological offspring of Rip van Winkle and Thelda Blanchet. Rip suggests that he himself may be the son of Rip van Winkle by van Winkle's own descendant Judy Gardenier, which is also depicted in “The Long Purple Wet Dream.”
Roberta Thorul is meant to be the niece of DC Comics' Lex Luthor; she is the son of Luthor's sister Lena Thorul, who was once married to Navy officer Jeff Colby in the comics. The two had a psychic son, Val Colby. In Gatherings however I had Roberta married to a second husband, Alex Zorka III, who was descended from Dr. Alex Zorka from the film serial The Phantom Creeps (1939). Roberta was their daughter; Alex Zorka III was orphaned by an alien attack at a young age, and he was adopted by Gary Seven and Roberta Lincoln, who were seen in the Star Trek episode “Assignment: Earth.” Roberta was thus named for her grandmother. The name Roberta Thorul was originally a nod to Robert Jordan's fantasy series The Wheel of Time, with her first name referencing the author, and her surname being an inversion of the name of the main character, Rand Al-Thor. Two of the stories that make up Gatherings were originally written as a wedding gift for my friend and fellow author Joe Molohon, who is a fan of Wheel of Time. Gatherings implies that Roberta Thorul was the enemy of Supergirl who the comics called Nasthalthia Luthor.
The “two timelines” shibboleth is a reference to the “Two Wieners” or “Gee, Bill!” meme, which can be seen in its original form here (the original image is Safe for Work): https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/gee-bill-how-come-your-mom-lets-you-eat-two-wieners
The Infinity Trust is a Multiverse-spanning team of adventurers who have come together to protect reality; they first appeared in Quinary Infinities.
Judex, alias the Comte Jacques de Trémeuse, is the eponymous crimefighter from the French film serial Judex (1916). Frederic-Jean Orth is from Alain Page's L'Ombre series, which began with L'Ombre Plays Tag (1957). Lai's “Shadows Reborn” says that Frederic-Jean Orth was the alias Kent Allard took to continue his crimefighting career into the 1950s. Dennis E. Power's story “The Judex Codex,” however, says that Frederic-Jean Orth was born Frederic-Jean de Trémeuse, and he was the son of Judex. Here I try to reconcile the two accounts by saying that Allard posed as Judex's son. Jean Aubry de Trémeuse is Judex's adopted son, the child of his wife, Jacqueline Aubry—both are from Judex.
Bruce Hagin Rassendyll is the name Philip José Farmer gave to Robert J. Hogan's pulp aviator character G-8; he is a relative of Rudolf Rassendyll from Anthony Hope's The Prisoner of Zenda (1894). His encounters with alternate realities appeared in Rick Lai's “Judex Rules.” Lai's story dealt with the continuity issues that arose in Farmer's Tarzan Alive (1972) and Doc Savage: His Apocalyptic Life (1973) surrounding The Shadow. Initially Farmer believed that The Shadow, G-8, and Harry Steeger's pulp hero The Spider, were all one man, who suffered from a severe split personality disorder. He retconned it to say that The Shadow and G-8 were the children of Ralph Rassendyll and Rhoda Delagardie, with The Spider being the son of Rhoda and Lord John Roxton, from Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World (1912). In Rick Lai's Shadows of the Opera series, The Shadow is the son of Darlla Rassendyll, alias The Revenant. She is the cousin of Ralph, who was the father of G-8 just as John Roxton was the father of The Spider. Allard Kent Rassendyll's father was Theophraste Lupin, father of Maurice Leblanc's Arsène Lupin—Lai's texts indicate that The Shadow would have been born Kenton Lupin had his parents not had to hide from the criminal forces Darlla battled as the Revenant. Irene Tupin is from the horror film La Residencia (1969); she was revealed to be The Shadow's half-sister in Shadows of the Opera. The stone that affected Rip's ancestors is the 1795 Wold Newton meteorite from Farmer's work, which released mutagenic radiation to the ancestors of many of Earth's great heroes and villains.
The vigilante in black is of course The Shadow. The Szincas are the Xinca people from the original pulp tales; their girasols are also from Gibson's stories. Sanger Rainsford is the big game hunter protagonist of Richard Connell's “The Most Dangerous Game” (1924). In my stories about the pulp vigilante Bloody Mary, seen in Odd Tales of Wonder, Sanger Rainsford's daughter Francine is Bloody Mary's secret identity. The Bloody Mary stories featured Sanger as an agent of “L'Aigle Viviti” (or the Dark Eagle, the name The Shadow used in World War I). Lamont Cranston is the millionaire who The Shadow impersonates. Aunt Hagar is from the film Drums o' Voodoo (1934), while Mamaloi is a name for a voodoo priestess; in my story “'As Thou Has Decreed, So Have I Done!'” I have Aunt Hagar's title of Queen Mamaloi stolen by the criminal Fah lo Suee, leading to the latter's use of the name in Sax Rohmer's The Island of Fu Manchu (1941). The name Tahama Beulah references the characters played by Madame Sul-Te-Wan in the films King of the Zombies (1941) and Revenge of the Zombies (1943). An aleph is a time-crystal containing the whole of time, seen in Jorge Luis Borges' story “The Aleph” (1945). The vor-na-tu, or Vor'Na'Tu, is a Jedi crystal from the video games based on Star Wars, specifically Star Wars: Galactic Battlegrounds. The half-real monster is the Shraask from Philip José Farmer's unfinished novel The Monster on Hold. The crystal tree in Africa is from Farmer's Tarzan and the Dark Heart of Time (1999); “Carries Lies, Win Power” implies that the tree was created or released into the universe because of a crack in time caused by the chronal journey of John Gribardsun (aka Tarzan) from the year 2070 to prehistoric times, seen in Farmer's Time's Last Gift (1972). Opar is the lost city from Edgar Rice Burroughs' original Tarzan books. The Gray-Eyed God, or Sahhindar, is from Farmer's Ancient Opar series, which began with Hadon of Ancient Opar (1974) and Flight to Opar (1976), and continued on in Christopher Paul Carey's The Song of Kwasin (2008), Exiles of Kho (2012), Hadon, King of Opar (2015), and Blood of Ancient Opar (2018). Carey's books featured a crystal root system that destroys Khokarsa, as well as the nethkarna seed, which grows the Tree of Kho, which is related to or the same thing as the crystal tree from Dark Heart of Time. These crystal roots are related to the mineral-vegetable king from J.-H. Rosy aîné's The Amazing Journey of Hareton Ironcastle (1922) and Philip José Farmer's 1976 adaptation of such. Win Scott Eckert explores these connections in his story “The Wild Huntsman.” Additionally, Will Emmons has proposed a connection between these crystal structures and those seen in J.G. Ballard's The Crystal World (1966).
Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson need no introduction. They discuss the titular gem from Arthur Conan Doyle's “The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle” (1892). The mention of mutant geese is a reference to an error in “Blue Carbuncle,” seen as Doyle's greatest in the Holmes canon, where a gem is found in a goose's crop; geese do not have a crop as other birds do. The Blue Diamond, and Holmes' clash with Lupin over it, was depicted in Maurice Leblanc's “The Blonde Lady” (1907). Manders is Bunny Manders, assistant of E.W. Hornung's gentleman thief A.J. Raffles. The account in question is that from Philip José Farmer's “The Problem of the Sore Bridge—Among Others” (1975), where Raffles and Bunny run into an extraterrestrial worm. The story is based on Holmes' unsolved cases mentioned in Doyle's “The Problem of Thor Bridge” (1922), which mentions Isadora Persano, “who who was found stark staring mad with a match box in front of him which contained a remarkable worm said to be unknown to science.” The term “worm unknown to science” reappears in Farmer's Escape from Loki (1991), an authorized novel featuring Lester Dent's pulp hero Doc Savage, where Doc finds such a worm at the site of a human sacrifice. “The Problem of the Sore Bridge” has the alien worms grow from eggs that resemble blue gemstones. The alien invaders Holmes mentions are the Martians from H.G. Wells' The War of the Worlds (1898). The Moonstone is from Wilkie Collins' 1868 novel of the same name. Notably, the Moonstone is based on the stories of the Hope and Orloff Diamonds, where the gems were ostensibly once pieces of a Hindu idol; this story also inspired the Xinca girasols of the Shadow stories. “Cave” is the inheritor of the Martian view-crystal seen in H.G. Wells' “The Crystal Egg” (1897). The Diamond of Lugash is from the Pink Panther movies. Krafthaus is from John Buchan's The Power-House (1916); as seen in Win Scott Eckert's “The Malevolent Moriartys, or, Who's Going to Take Over the World When I'm Gone?”, Krafthaus was run by James Noel Moriarty, the younger brother of the first Professor Moriarty and the second man to use that name. Krafthaus grew out of the alien-worshipping Circle of Life cult from George H. Smith's The Second War of the Worlds (1976). According to Eckert's first volume of Crossovers, Krafthaus was created to distance Moriarty from the Circle of Life cult; instead of worshipping aliens, they became dedicated to erasing all records of them, leading people to forget that London was invaded by Martians.
Dr. James Clarke Wildman is Lester Dent's Doc Savage—the Wildman name was created by Philip José Farmer. His base of operations is on the 86th floor of the Empire State Building, hence his count beginning at “86.”
The version of Doc with the hood and Ruby is the comic book superhero Doc Savage who first appeared in Doc Savage Comics #5 (Aug. 1941). The Nazi Doc Savage is Sun Koh, a pulp character created by Paul Alfred Muller in 1933—a version of Sun Koh is generally accepted to exist in the main version of the Crossover Universe, but this one is from an alternate timeline. Adélaïde Lupin, daughter of Arsène, is Doc Wildman's wife in Win Scott Eckert's fiction, mother of Doc's daughter, Patricia Wildman. In the timeline set out by in the stories of DC Comics and others, Doc married Monja, a Mayan character from the Lester Dent series, and they had a son, Clark Savage III. Eckert's story “Doc Wildman: Out of Time” (2006) reveals that in 1990, Doc Wildman traveled back in time and began a new life with Adélaïde. This particular alternate timeline reveals Doc's future, instead of an otherworld incarnation of himself. Also seen is Doc Caliban, from Philip José Farmer's Secrets of the Nine series; the shadowy figures are the immortal Nine. Doc distantly recognizes the foremost of them, XauXaz, because XauXaz is also Baron von Hessel. XauXaz is associated with the Norse god Odin, who was identified by Christopher Paul Carey as the trickster god who used the name Baron von Hessel, based on statements by Philip José Farmer identifying Wotan/Odin as an ancestor of important Wold Newton figures. XauXaz/Baron von Hessel also posed as Wolf Larsen, from Jack London's The Sea-Wolf (1904), in whose guise he became Doc Savage's grandfather.
The Comte de Trémeuse is, as mentioned above, Judex. Raymond Mystère is Judex's companion in Power's “The Judex Codex.” He is the son of Paul d'Ivoi's Doctor Mystère and the father of Alfredo Castelli's Martin Mystère. Belloq, who also appeared in “The Judex Codex,” is from the Indiana Jones film Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981).
Baron de Musard is from Escape from Loki—his castle is where Doc encounters the alien worm. The Antarctic monster Doc faced is the shapeshifting alien from John W. Campbell's “Who Goes There?” (1938), which inspired the films The Thing from Another World (1951) and The Thing (1982). Campbell's story features a physically and mentally powerful bronze-skinned hero, who is similar to Doc, leading Wold Newtonians to label this a Doc Savage adventure. “Johnny” is William Harper Littlejohn, one of Doc's aides. Philip José Farmer believed that Johnny was the character called William Dyer in H.P. Lovecraft's At the Mountains of Madness (1936), hence the reference to the “citadel” of the Elder Things. The connection between the alien worm, the Antarctic monsters, and the Elder Things has been made before by Eckert and Carey.
Conan the Cimmerian was created by Robert E. Howard. Zenobia appears in Howard's The Hour of the Dragon (1935); she and Conan were married in Bjorn Nyberg and L. Sprague de Camp's The Return of Conan (1957), which is also the source of her abduction by Yah Chieng. The Servants of the Black Robe are the predecessors to the Black Robe from the film Secrets of Chinatown (1935), which does indeed worship a mortal goddess named Zenobia.
“Elessar,” who appeared in “The Judex Codex,” is Aragorn from J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. “Hyarlondie” is one of the names for Gondor.
“Surama” is meant to be the crime-lord Sumuru from a series of books by Sax Rohmer. Sumuru, whose real name is Astar, was theorized by Rick Lai in his “Astar of Opar” to be the sister of La of Opar. In Christopher Paul Carey's Ancient Opar books, La and Astar (or Asatar) are daughters of Hadon. In my book Kinyonga Tales, I gave a Stone Age origin for Sumuru, where she was a young girl named Smarra from the tribe of Wahn'go (a fantasy reimagining of the all-women tribe from the 1958 film The Wild Women of Wongo). Either Asatar killed Smarra and took her name and place, or Sumuru is another individual with multiple timelines. Sumuru's Order of Our Lady formed the basis of the Order of the Madonna, from my novella The Divine Mrs. E. That story attempted to reconcile all the different cinematic incarnations of Emanuelle, by suggesting that Emanuelle/Mrs. E was a higher-dimensional entity whose entry into realspace created multiple avatars that lived individual lives while still being parts of the same being. This, too, could explain the discrepancies in Sumuru's long life. But the name “Surama” is also used by a skeletal male wizard in H.P. Lovecraft and Adolphe di Castro's “The Last Test” (1928); this Surama is explained here to be the dessicated Kathulos, from Robert E. Howard's “Skull-Face” (1929), having appropriated Surama's name.
Akivasha is a vampiress from The House of the Dragon. Lilitu is from Robert E. Howard's “The House of Arabu” (193?). The “Empress of the Lilin” refers to E. Hoffmann Price's “Queen of the Lilin” (1934). Thulsa Doom is from Robert E. Howard's Kull of Atlantis stories. The Witch-Queen of Angmar was presumably the wife of the Witch-King of Angmar, from Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. The title “Goddess of the Skeksis” refers to the Skeksis monsters from the film The Dark Crystal (1982). Crom is the god Conan prays to in Howard's stories. Hastur is from Robert W. Chambers' The King in Yellow (1895), and H.P. Lovecraft made him part of the Cthulhu Mythos. The name of Hastur originates from Ambrose Bierce's “Haïta the Shepherd” (1893), where Hastur is the god of shepherds, hence the mention of them here.
Grignr is from Jim Theis' The Eye of Argon (1970), infamously described as one of the worst books of all time. This is, of course, also the source of the Eye of Argon itself, which mutates into a monster at the story's end as it does here. The bard Îrinnedsli is an original character, but he is meant to be a distant ancestor of the title character of Amanda McKittrick Ros' Irene Iddesleigh (1897); Ros' prose is often said to be as awful as that of Eye of Argon. The worry that Grignr expresses for the future author who translates Îrinnedsli's writing is an attempt to redeem Jim Theis, who did, after all, write his book at age sixteen.
The black lotus is from Robert E. Howard's Conan tales, as is the wizard Thoth-Amon. The Fire of Asshurbanipal gem is from Howard's 1936 story of the same name. It is suggested here that a human sacrifice—such as that seen in Escape from Loki—summons a Shraask into a nethkarna gem to incubate.
John Drummond-Clayton, aka Korak, is from the Tarzan books. In the original stories, Korak is Tarzan and Jane's biological son, but issues raised by Philip Farmer in his essay “The Great Korak Time Discrepancy,” have revealed he is their adopted child instead. It is by Farmer's account that he met Doc Savage at the Argonne. Tarzan obtains immortality in Edgar Rice Burroughs' Tarzan's Quest (1935). The Scarlet Dragon plane is from Charles Ira Coombs' Ace of the Argonne (1967); this book was first brought to the attention of crossover researchers by Christopher Paul Carey, who took note of the name of the Dragon's pilot, “Baron Kurt von Hessel.”
This letter is written by Baron von Hessel. The “Countess” is Lili Bugov, Countess Idivzhopu, the Baron's ally seen in Escape from Loki. The Thurn-und-Taxis Post was an actual private postal service in the Holy Roman Empire; however, the reference here is to the organization of the same name from Thomas Pynchon's The Crying of Lot 49 (1965). The Baron compares the war between Thurn-and-Taxis and the Tristero (also from Pynchon's book) to the war between the Eridaneans and Capelleans from Philip José Farmer's The Other Log of Phileas Fog (1973), which was continued by Joshua Reynolds in Phileas Fogg and the War of Shadows (2014) and Phileas Fogg and the Heart of Osra (2016). The Eridanean-Capellean time-machines are the distorters from Farmer's novel; Win Scott Eckert's “The Wild Huntsman” reveals that XauXaz travels in time and space using one. Also in “The Wild Huntsman,” John Gribardsun sees a sapphire on XauXaz's distorter that reminds him of the nethkarna of Khokarsa, implying that the jewel may be a piece of the crystal tree. The implications of the statement about the “Twin Gods” are my own speculation. The Twin Gods are worshipped by the people who live near the crystal tree in The Dark Heart of Time. The Twin Gods are extraterrestrials, but consist of two pairs of Twins. After the first faction left Earth a second set of Twin Gods appeared and declared the first Twins who appeared to be impostors. It is possible that the first set of Twin Gods represented one faction of the Eridanean-Capellean conflict, while the other represented their enemy. The second set of Twin Gods sought to spread division among the loyalists of the first pair, with this conflict eventually creating the agents who war against each other in Other Log. It is possible that the crack in time created by Gribardsun's time-machine, which resulted in the growth of the crystal tree, served as a beacon which attracted the two races to Earth.
Von Hessel refers to the Countess' “recovery”—at the end of Escape from Loki, the Countess gets in a train crash which scars her horribly. The “other stone” he mentions is the Wold Newton meteorite; that XauXaz engineered the Wold Newton event in 1795 was revealed in “The Wild Huntsman,” based on hints by Farmer. The “human magnetic moment” comes from Tarzan Alive, and is used as an explanation for how Tarzan and other heroes ended up having tremendous luck, as well as a multitude of incredible, perhaps unrealistic adventures. Tom Miller is the main character of Ace of the Argonne; in that book, Miller has a friend in the form of fellow pilot Eddie Lansing. In the Tarzan films, Tarzan's adopted son Boy was born under the name Richard Lancing. While the Tarzan films are largely fictional, it is possible that the name "Lansing" was used as a code to indicate the presence of Korak. The vegetable-mineral being is, as mentioned above, from J.-H. Rosny and Philip Farmer's Ironcastle.
XauXaz makes a nod to Doc Wildman's life across two timelines. As per Carey and Eckert, the passion Doc shared with the Countess in Escape from Loki resulted in the birth of Doc's son and greatest enemy, John Sunlight. XauXaz suggests that the timeline containing Doc Caliban and Lord Grandrith, from Farmer's Secrets of the Nine, was created by the impact of Gribardsun's time-machine on the timeline; I believe this detail is from Eckert, but it is inspired by Dennis E. Power's excellent articles “Triple Tarzan Tangle” and “Tarzan? Jane?” which credits Tarzan's trip to the past for the creation of the Nine.
The “illiterate brute” Tarzan is the film Tarzan played by Johnny Weissmuller; XauXaz's disdain for him is a joke based on various pulp authors' comments about how the film Tarzan is not the “real” Tarzan. (Admittedly, there are some real stinkers in among those films.) Weissmuller's Tarzan is hypothetically the same as the Tarzan played by Lex Barker, as his first movie, Tarzan's Magic Fountain (1949), sees Jane played by Brenda Joyce, who played Jane in three of Weissmuller's Tarzan films. Tarzan's split personality, “Jim”/“Johnny,” is a reference to the Jungle Jim films made by Weissmuller immediately after his run as Tarzan. Jungle Jim was based on Don Moore and Alex Raymond's comic strip of the same name, and eventually rights to the strip transferred to the Jungle Jim TV show, which also starred Weissmuller. Weissmuller continued the Jungle Jim movies anyway, by changing the character's name to none other than “Johnny Weissmuller.”
The maniacal heroin-addict Tarzan, as well as “Brachiate Bruce,” is from Philip José Farmer's “The Jungle Rot Kid On the Nod” (1968), which was an attempt by Farmer to write what would have happened if William S. Burroughs instead of Edgar Rice Burroughs had created Tarzan. Farmer tried and failed to write a reverse attempt, if Edgar Burroughs had written William Burroughs' Nova Express (1964). For more on that see below.
Writers receiving images of other worlds that they believe to be dreams, which they fictionalize, is an old trope, but I was first introduced to it through Gardner Fox's run on DC's second Flash. Irene K'thalnova is from my book Quinary Infinities, where she is a product of an alliance in the 1910s between the Church of Starry Wisdom (from H.P. Lovecraft's 1935 tale “The Haunter of the Dark”) and the Nova Mob, from William Burroughs' Nova Trilogy, of which Nova Express is the last book. She was the inspiration for Marvel Comics' 1940s hero called the Black Widow, though they ascribed her mystic abilities to Satan rather than Great Cthulhu, who was worshipped by the Church of Starry Wisdom and provided part of her surname. Possessing eternal youth, she ended up in France in the early 1980s, where she encountered a serial killer named Ogroff (depicted in Norbert Mautier's fantastic film, 1983's Ogroff). She realized that while Ogroff was unwell, and a murderer, his victims had been used to feed and satisfy an army of zombies that would otherwise break out and cause terror through all of France. Seeing the good in the forest hermit, she romanced him, and their child was author Katherine Avalon.
Yaubus Redford is the author of Kuru; or, the Zombies (2011), a bizarre work. Following Redford's death, I collected his last papers and photos into a book called Devil Skull Takes London (2012), with the permission of his estate. Astraea Malina Bayrolles shares my initials. Her surname links her to the seer Bayrolles from Ambrose Bierce's “An Inhabitant of Carcosa” (1886) and “The Moonlit Road” (1907). “Lamb” references LAM, a spirit who supposedly visited occultist Aleister Crowley, and who I used as an author stand-in in my book Kinyonga Tales (with LAM implicitly standing for “Lord Atom Mudman,” a family in-joke). “Manos” references the film Manos: The Hands of Fate (1966), but also the guise taken on by Amos Slimechap Berkley, an author avatar who appeared in my story Words from the Inner Circle. Bayrolles' murder takes place in 1994, the year I was born. Each of her strange theories reference crossover essays or stories of mine which I have published in spite of their potentially heretical views. In Kinyonga Tales I suggested that the worlds of video games like Super Mario Bros. and The Legend of Zelda exist in a hyperdimensional borderland accessible through earthly virtual-reality tech. The time-traveling Moreau-gorillas, created by Marlon Brando's version of H.G. Wells' Dr. Moreau, are from my essay “The Cosmos of Dr. Moreau.” Katja Orloff originally hails from Henry Robertson Waterhouse's “The Cuckoo-Girl; or, Jeffrey Pratt's Wedding” (1883), where she is a “Cuckoo-Girl” who embeds herself in various families through time and space, being born in multiple eras at once. Quinary Infinities revealed that her status as a Cuckoo allows her to birth other Cuckoo-Children in eras prior to her own, who are her genetic offspring despite the gap in time.
Pegasus Johnson Farrell is a fictional version of Philip José Farmer; he is a reference to some of Farmer's characters who share his initials, including Peter Jairus Frigate from Riverworld, and Paul Janus Finnegan from World of Tiers. The Newfangled Engine, or, The Exploding Ticket is meant to be the text that resulted from a successful experiment to write Nova Express in the style of Edgar Rice Burroughs. (See the note on “The Jungle Rot Kid On the Nod” above.) Farrell must have had dreams where he foresaw William S. Burroughs' writing, given that the author he emulated wouldn't be born for another two years after he published his novel. January 1918, the point where all copies of The Newfangled Engine vanished, is the month and year of Philip Farmer's birth.
G-8 becomes (or could become) Jet Jackson. Jet Jackson was the hero of Jet Jackson, Flying Commando, a redubbed version of the 1954-1956 Captain Midnight series, based off of the 1938-1949 Captain Midnight radio show. In “The Life Story of King Kong” (1975), Jim Harmon identified G-8 and Captain Midnight as the same person, who was also the pilot who shot down the titular giant ape from King Kong (1933). The Spider, then, was called Blue Steel in at least one timeline—this refers to the book Legend in Blue Steel (1979) by “Spider Page,” which began life as an unprinted Spider novel before being printed in a copyright-friendly manner by the Python Publishing Group. Count Wampire was Bram Stoker's name for his famous vampire in the early drafts of Dracula (1897).
Stephen Orlac is from Maurice Renard's The Hands of Orlac (1920); a brief summary of the novel is given in the story. Orlac was a villain in my story “The Curse of Orlac” (Tales of the Shadowmen Volume 14: Coup de Grace), set in 1954; he served Dracula because he was a descendant of him through Dracula's homunculus “son,” Count Orlok of Nosferatu (1922), whose relationship with Dracula was seen in Dennis Power's “Best Fangs Forward.” Power's article makes use of Chuck Loridans' idea of “soul-clones” to explain inconsistencies between different depictions of Dracula, which Loridans put forth in his groundbreaking article, “Children of the Night”; this spawned the M.O.N.S.T.A.A.H. timeline site (monstaah.angelfire.com), where Loridans continued his speculations on Wold Newton vampirism alongside Christofer Nigro. Orlac does indeed spend a long time finding the right offering for Dracula, as it takes him twenty years to trick the Sâr Dubnotal into nearly meeting his doom at Dracula's hands in 1954. (The Sâr Dubnotal, an occult adventurer, was created in 1909 by Norbert Sévestre.) The simian assistant of Wildman's who spots Orlac is Monk Mayfair. Orlac recalls that both Colonel Bozzo-Corono (from Paul Feval's mid-19th Century Black Coats series) and Fantômas (from Marcel Allain and Pierre Souvestre's 1911 novel of the same name and its sequels) have stolen the stone. This could be used to explain the odd, rashly-made references I made to Colonel Bozzo-Corona in my novella Deus Mega Therion, which I have discussed in Quinary Infinities and elsewhere. It can also explain the discrepancies between Fantômas' backstory as given in Jean-Marc and Randy Lofficier's adaptation of Arnould Galopin's The Man in Grey (1911) and his backstory as given in Rick Lai's Shadows of the Opera. Dr. Cerral is the surgeon who gives Orlac his new hands in Renard's novel. When the 1935 film Mad Love adapted The Hands of Orlac it made the Cerral figure a sinister mad doctor played by Peter Lorre named Dr. Gogol. Dr. Gogol existing in an adjacent timeline (which, as seen at the story's end, could occasionally overlap with the “prime” timeline) could be used to explain the references to him in Pete Rawlik's crossover novel Reanimators (2013), which, like Rick Lai's Shadows of the Opera, is considered an AU to the Crossover Universe.
In Loridans, Power, and Nigro's works that discuss the soul-clone concept, star-stones are used to create satellite bodies. The wolf's-head cane from The Wolf Man (1941) is described in their work to be an artifact of Dracula's; the Romani band who possessed the cane are from that film. Stanton is Rood Stanton, from Katherine Avalon's experimental work Fuck Off S.R. (2018), which features a wolf's-head cane being used by a white supremacist, Bacchus Jones, to destroy history in an attempt to create a new world where so-called “inferior” peoples do not exist. He is opposed by Qiang Jiantou, Jiantou's husband West, and their wife Ahsayrramah. S.R. is a harsh critique of Sax Rohmer's Fu Manchu stories, with the characters being reincarnations of the cast of Rohmer's series: Jones was once Denis Nayland Smith, Qiang Jiantou was Fu Manchu, West is a reincarnated Dr. Petrie, and Ahsayrramah is a reborn Kâramanèh.
Kah is from the film The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires (1974), where he is a servant of Dracula. Renfield is of course from Stoker's Dracula.
The Powerstone and Skull Valley are from the Superman story “Powerstone” in Action Comics #47 (Apr. 1942); the Powerstone is used for evil by Lex Luthor, hence Roberta's comment at the end. The Ung Cult is from George F. Worts' Peter the Brazen story “The Hand of Ung” (1930); in his essay “The Hand of Kong,” Rick Lai connected the Ung cult to Skull Island from King Kong, thus allowing me to make a connection between Skull Island and Skull Valley.
Hemkra Quartz is from my Bloody Mary stories, and thus there's a nod to Francine Rainsford here—Hemkra Quartz was inspired by the M'Krann Crystal from Marvel Comics. Theresa van Helsing, aka Immortée, is the daughter of Bloody Mary's similarly-named companion Immorté. Theresa/Immortée not only took over Immorté's title and battle against evil, but she became the leader of the people of Rheton, the planet her father ruled over. This planet was depicted in semi-accurate form in The Phantom Planet (1960). In my stories, Hemkra Quartz is well-known to the people of Rheton. Mórdún Saorduine is the name I used in Kinyonga Tales for Gordon Freeman, hero of the video game Half-Life (1998) and its sequels. In Kinyonga Tales the Xen crystal which triggers the events of Half-Life is described as being a Hemkra Quartz.
Bacchus Jones, né Orloff, is from Katherine Avalon's Fuck Off S.R. Dionysus Orloff is the name I've given to the title character of the film The Awful Dr. Orlof (1962) in my fiction about the Orloff family; Bacchus is the Roman version of Dionysus. Datu Sumlang is a cultist from the film Moro Witch Doctor (1964). His daughter Karma Sumlang, née Orloff, is based on Karma Grainger, from the film Fog Island (1945). His siring Karma with Katja anachronistically is explored in Quinary Infinities and Gatherings. One reason why Jiantou and Rama may be upset by Katja's sounds of pain is that one of Katja's incarnations, Catnip Pons, is a member of the Infinity Trust. Cat Pons first appeared in Gatherings. The man at the birth who looks like Odin is XauXaz.
The palantir is from Lord of the Rings. Olórin is another name for Gandalf, hence the mentions of “Grey” and “White.” “Omega” is a reference to Doctor Omega, from Arnould Galopin's 1906 novel of the same name; thanks to a suggestion by Jean-Marc Lofficier, Doctor Omega often appears in crossover fiction as a stand-in for the Doctor of Doctor Who, due to his resemblance to William Hartnell's First Doctor. “Lloigohrmazd” refers to Lloigor, twin of Zhar, from the Cthulhu Mythos, as well as Ohrmazd, revered in Zoroastrianism. In The Divine Mrs. E, Lloigohrmazd and his counterpart, Zhariman (which combines Zhar with Zoroastrianism's Ahriman), manifest or are connected to Gandalf and Doctor Omega, and Saruman and The Master, respectively. The demon Judex witnesses is Tsuu-Aas, from the Bloody Mary stories and Kinyonga Tales; Tsuu-Aas destroyed the world in one possible future timeline visited by Bloody Mary. Elessar's reference to a “marble-game” is a nod to Hermann Hesse's The Glass Bead Game (1943), where isolated thinkers play a game with the “total contents and values” of human culture.