The Secret Origin of Direwolf - part 1 "I see a lot of promise in you..."
by Direwolf

Museum of Ancient History, just after 3:00 PM-

Curtis Conroy, a security guard at the Patriot City Museum of Ancient History, stood beside the museum doors, watching the young man pounding up the broad marble steps, backpack swinging wildly in one hand while his brown corduroy jacket flapped open. Curtis smiled and swung the thick door wide, carefully standing out of the way.

"Watch out, Jason, the floors got waxed last night."

"Thanks, Mr. Conroy! Bus was late again!"

Jason Cross raced through the door and headed across the museum lobby, skidding on the polished granite floor. Overhead, a huge bronze and brass model of Copernicus’s vision of the solar system hung above the atrium gallery. A cluster of schoolchildren shepherded by their teacher was crossing the atrium in front of the wide stairs that lead to the upper floors. They were heading for the Oriental Studies wing and right in his way. Jason squawked in alarm and desperately veered to avoid the clustered children who stood suddenly rooted in surprise at the sight of the young man hurtling towards them. Arms flailing for balance, Jason slide around with inches to spare.

"You hooligan!" the irate teacher shouted at the blond haired man young man. The children laughed until she glared down at them. "Come along class, no time for foolishness."

Feeling like he was back in High School on the track team, Jason shot through the Roman wing and headed for a door marked "Staff only". Rather then risk a bruised shoulder, he skidded to stop, and pulled a large key affixed to a trilobite fossil fob from the back pocket of his blue jeans. Of course, the key stuck.

"Come on, come on!" At last, the lock opened and Jason pelted down the stairs. The museum basement was divided in to a dozen different rooms, each labeled with a dusty sign. Against the far wall, a heating system that could have served as an exhibit in the early industrial hall wheezed. A freight elevator stood open by the furnace. The basement air smelled of dust, mildew, damp cement, and what Jason always thought of as knowledge. He ran to the room marked "Fossil Collection" and ducked inside.

"Maybe..." he whispered. But no, his luck was holding true to form. Doctor Walter Q. Sedgwick, curator of the museum and a stickler for punctuality was already in side, pointedly examining an antique gold pocket watch. As always, Doctor Sedgwick sported a far from fashionable tweed suite and shoes polished mirror bright. His wispy gray hair that feathered out from the side of his head and habit of looking down his nose through balanced glasses always made Jason think of stork looking for a tasty frog. And right now, he felt like that frog.

"You are late again, Mr. Cross," Doctor Sedgwick said, each syllable as precise as a block of type. He snapped the watch closed, polished against his vest and tucked it back into its pocket. Jason was willing to bet nothing other then that gold watch ever went into that pocket.

"Sir, I..."

"I’m sure you have an explanation and I’m sure it is quite truthful, Mr. Cross. That is not the issue. You were given this position on the recommendation of your masters adviser, some one I greatly admire, Professor Atwater. One would not expect to find a masters student in paleontology from City University in charge of a collection as extensive as ours, but she spoke quite well of you. And your work has been exemplary."

Sedgwick shook his head sadly. "But there is more to science then brilliant field work or bolts of genius. Precision is at least as important as genus. And keeping a schedule is a sign of a well-ordered mind. Please consider this, Mr. Cross. I would rather not disappoint Professor Atwater and, truth be told, I see a lot promise in you. Given the chance, I believe you will achieve great things."

The professor walked to the door, weaving through the tables and boxes. "The final crate arrived from Paris this morning. I expect to see the fully assembled Canus Dirus skeleton assembled by this time tomorrow, and on display. Good afternoon, Mr. Cross."

The door shut with a decisive click. Jason sighed as he set his backpack on the floor. That could have been a lot worse.

Jason took of his coat and tie, draping them across the worn wooden chair by a desk nearly buried in heap of papers and rock specimens, then rolled up his sleeves. The room was large, nearly 30 feet on a side, but felt cramped. Banks of cabinets and drawers lined the walls, holding the museums stored fossils. Three large tables fought for floor space with the filing cabinets, map table and a couple of workbenches. One cupboard, the door long gone missing held cans of shellac, brushes, paraffin, plaster and other restoration and preserving supplies. Three old florescent lights, one that flicked intermittently, lit the room. Jason filled a coffee pot from the old cast iron sink in the back corner and set the pot on hot plate balanced on pile of textbooks. He had work to do. But first, he opened his backpack and removed the odd object he found beneath the bus stop at City University. As he opened the pack, a soft violet glow lit his face.

It was a metal cylinder, about a foot and a half long and about six inches in diameter. Polished to a bright sheen, the object was remarkably light yet strong. He suspected it had to be some sort of titanium or aluminum alloy. There was no obvious writing on the outside and the only external marking was a circle that seemed to be inscribed on one end, suggesting an aperture. The source of the purple glow was another mystery.

"Weird," he murmured, "I wonder what it is?"

But that would have to wait. He poured some coffee grounds into the now steaming pot and moved to the packing crate by the door. Professor Sedgwick said it was the rest of the bones. Jason pulled the nails from the box’s lid with a crowbar and prided it open. Layers of cotton padded the interior. Amid the padding lay sixteen fossil bones, including the skull and lower jaw of an adult Canus Dirus.

Canus Dirus, the dire wolf, a pack hunting ice age predator that roamed Europe thousands of years ago. In his mind, Jason imagined the wolf as it must have been in life, nearly six feet tall at the shoulder with lowered head as if always ready to charge. His mind filled in the details; think gray fur rising to a slight ridge along the back, amber eyes alert with primal inelegance, lips pulled back into a hunting snarl.

"Must have been quite a sight, a pack of these bearing down!" He pulled on a pair of gloves and carefully lifted each fossil bone from the box, checking both for any signs of damage as well as assessing the job of preservation. The bones were heavy and dark brown, shinny with a sheen of varnish over the stone. The preserved detail was amazing. Even with out a magnifying glass, Jason saw the detail preserved in the fossils. He set the fossils out on a workbench and jotted a few notes on size and condition in his reconstruction notebook, then added a little cold water to his coffee pot to settle the grounds. After pouring a cup, he looked towards the door where the rest of skeleton, already wired together, rested on a dolly. He had to fit these last bones into the whole to complete the creature and document how they would have connected. He figured this was going to be a three-pot night.

After less then an hour, Jason heard an odd humming sound from out side the building that vibrated through the bones of his skull. Echoing screams of panic and the crackle of some sort of energy discharges followed it. Something was up out side the museum.

"I supposed I should take a look." Not bothering with his jacket, the young man grabbed the crowbar and headed for the stairs. Fortunately, the museum had closed so he didn’t have to deal with panicked people running through the halls. The sounds of battle grew louder as he neared the door.

He found Mr. Conroy hunkered down by the cracked open main door, his .38 Special in hand. Jason stopped beside him and peeked out. "What’s going on?"

"Freedom Force is dusting it up with some big headed, gray skinned critters with ray guns. Can’t tell much more then that," the guard offered. "So far, I’d say the good guys are winning."

Jason risked poking his head out for a quick look. Wrecked cars, broken light polls and scorched trees littered the ground. He saw two of the gray creatures; one slumped on the sidewalk the other protruding from a hedge and thought they looked like something from the cover of Amazing Tales. To his right, he saw Freedom Force finishing off a final creature that had trapezoid shaped red eye patch over his right eye.

A pink and dark blue clad woman gestured and bolt of blue white light shot from her fingertips.

"This is no place for a homecoming queen!" he heard Alche Miss exclaim as the final large headed creature fell.

"Looks like the excitement’s over for now," Jason remarked. He thought there was something familiar about Alche Miss’ voice"

"Mark my words, young man. Nazis are behind it. Oh I know everyone says we did ‘em in for good in WW two and now it’s the reds, but you mark my words, there still out there and still trying to bring down this great nation of ours."

"Well, with your war record, I suppose you’d know." Jason smiled. If all of his war stories were true, then Curtis Conroy had been a pivotal force in just about every major battle in North Africa and Western Europe. "I’d better get back to work. If I don’t finish this project tonight, Professor Sedgwick will have my job."

The ex-solider holstered his revolver and stood up. "Go ahead, I’ll stand watch."

Jason hurried down the stairs to resume the reconstruction. As he entered the basement, he saw another figure wheeling the now completed skeleton towards the service elevator. The figure was a young man, clean-shaven with slightly too long blond hair and half smile.

"That’s me!" he gasped, watching himself move the fossil into the elevator. Then the apparition was gone. The elevator screen was down and the car still. There was no one there. He pressed his hand to his head, wondering if he was feverish. Nothing.

"Must be working too hard," he rationalized.

The fossil wolf was right where he left it. Jason stared at it for a few moments, wondering if the bones would suddenly assemble themselves but no such luck. He was going to have to do this the old fashion way. He refilled his coffee cup and picked up a coil of fine copper wire. The skull was next.

Throughout the evening and into the night, Jason had more little ‘occurrences’ that made him begin to question his sanity. He’d reach for a tool he’d just set down only to find it already in his hand or across the room, in a toolbox. Or a page of notes would suddenly be blank or filled with writing he hadn’t added yet. Once, when trying to make fresh coffee, he was sure he the can held bright red coffee berries and green leaves, only to see them become the dark brown powder he’d expected. It was as if time was skipping back and forth.

"I’ve got to be getting sick," he said to the nearly complete dire wolf. "Good thing I’ve got a weekend to recover before class."

Despite the distractions, he wired the last bone, the lower jaw, into place just after nine thirty. He stepped back to admire his work. He’d tried to achieve what he thought of as a hunting posture, head down and slanted forward, jaws parted to show the teeth, and one front foot raised as if it were stalking. He’d succeed. There was no doubt about it, the skeleton was an impressive sight and would make a great addition to the Pleistocene display. He made one last check of the wires to make sure all the bones were secure, it would be a disaster if any came loose, then collected his coat and back pack. He wheeled the fossil out into the basement, then turned back to switch off the workroom lights and lock the door.

"I wonder..." Jason thought as he pushed the fossil into the freight elevator. He looked back to the stairs, more then half expecting to see himself but the stair way was empty. The main floor of the museum was a maze of shadows. Most of the lights were out and the halls felt cavernously empty. There was no sign of Mr. Conroy so Jason assumed he was inspecting the interior. He didn’t go looking for the watchman. Hungry, tired and still convinced he was getting sick, it was late enough he just wanted to get the fossil into place so workmen could set it in the display come morning, and head home. The Pleistocene display was across the gallery and to the left, just beyond ancient Greece and next to Egypt. The dolly squeaked all the way.

He moved past the dioramas of mammoth herds and the human models standing over stone tools. A massive ground sloth reared in the shadows next to a mastodon skull complete with huge curved tusks. There was the place for the wolf right beside complete with a plaque giving a brief description of the animal and the place in France the fossil had been found. He saw his name listed at the bottom and grinned. His first professional credit.

Unseen behind him, the air in the hall of ancient Greece shimmered, twisting in on itself with a ripple of red threads of light that expanded outwards. A huge form, its head nearly scrapping the vaulted ceiling, suddenly stood before one of the display cases. A massive hand, gloved in gold and magenta armor reached out, passing some how through the glass of a display case and lifted a simple set of fired clay pipes from amid the artifices. A low laugh, deep and full of dark triumph filled the room as the figure vanished in another burst of red light.

In the Pleistocene room, Jason looked up as the red light shown briefly from the archway leading to the display of Greek artifacts. He walked towards the room just as the second wave of light shone out and the menacing laugh sounded. Then time shuddered around him as the past collided with the present. A babble of voices speaking classical Greek echoed near a stone tablet, the voice of scribes. In the Roman wing, the sound of shattering pottery echoed as if a massive water jug suddenly experienced the blow that broke it nearly two thousand years ago. The writing on an Egyptian papyrus gleamed wet and fresh as newly applied ink and a mummy near by twitched with impossible life. And in the Pleistocene room, Jason clearly heard the sound of a mastodon trumpet and the click of stone on stone as a spearhead took shape. And then a single low growl stole his attention. He turned and saw the dire wolf skeleton lift it’s head.

"I’m not sick, I’m crazy."

With a series of sharp twangs of parting wire, the assemblage of stone bones pulled its feet from the platform. Clicking, the fossil stepped down to the marble floor. It’s head swung side to side, the empty sockets scanning the room. Then the head fixed on the startled young man. It paced forward, drew back slightly, then charged.

The possibility this might all be some sort of fever dream vanished as the stone wolf plowed into him. Jason shot across the hall and smacked into the wall with crushing force. Struck by the wolf, his backpack tore open. The young man wheezed for breath. The wolf stalked closer.

"This thing is going to kill me," he realized. As if to prove him right, the animate skeleton lunged. Jason brought his arm up just in time to protect his throat. Stone teeth snapped shut, cutting through flesh and lodged in his bone. Blood sprayed. Jason roared in pain as the wolf shook it’s head, trying to pull off his arm. His free hand scrabbled across the floor in a primal search for a weapon, anything that might free him. He felt something smooth and hard, grabbed it with out looking, and swung at the fossil wolf’s skull.

The metal cylinder smashed into the stone skull and erupted in a flare of brilliant purple light. The flair engulfed man and fossil. Two stray bolts shot out, bouncing from the walls and ricocheting off into the museum. One struck a fist sized carved, silver scarab beetle in the Egypt display. The carving took on a faint purple sheen. The other, lesser bolt found the recumbent form of Conrey, slumped by the forced open back door.

When the haze of light around Jason faded, the dire wolf skeleton was gone, only twists of copper wire and the savage wounds on Jason’s forearm showing that it had even been there. Unobserved, the lacerations began to seal.

Moments latter, a slender form dressed in snug black clothing slipped down the main stairs, a bag full of Renaissance jewelry heavy at it’s side. The thief glanced quickly into the Pleistocene room and saw the sprawled man, decided that he wasn’t a threat, and moved on the Egypt room. It took only a minute and a half to disable the alarm on the main case. An intricate gold and carnelian bracelet went first, and then the thief reached for the silver scarab. There was a bright flash of light and the shadows seemed to swirl inward, gathered by the purple flair. The thief staggered, nearly falling, catching the edge of the case. The mysterious form quickly recovered and looked around the room as if confused by the location, then ran from the hall. In the gallery, the figure stood indecisive then bolted for the front door. The door crashed open and the thief vanished into the night. Behind, alarms howled into the night"

To be continued...