CHAPTER 12

"So, while Ace and I were in the other room trying to get our Talismans out of the safe, you two were fighting Miss Robinson," Paul said. He leaned back in the chair and looked at Ace and Gene, who were slouching on the overstuffed couch. They had come back to Paul's apartment to sort out the details of that evening. Peter stood away from the others, watching the night sky through the window of the Manhattan penthouse.

"Right," Gene answered.

"So, what happened?"

"We won . . . but she was able to get away before we could stop her from disappearing into Limbo." Gene concentrated on Paul when speaking, never once leaving eye contact with him.

Peter stared out the window and said nothing.

"But, how did she steal our powers in the first place?"

Ace chirped in. "Probably had something to do with that symbol painted on the floor."

Gene looked at him quizzically. "How do you know so much?"

Taken aback by Gene's tone, Ace fumbled for the words. "Are you kidding? They always stick that mystical mumbo-jumbo stuff next to the space stuff in the bookstores. You can't help seeing it and becoming a little familiar with it. Probably some magic spell or something."

"But," Paul latched on to Gene's question, "how did she know that stuff would work? How did she do it? Frankly I'm a little fed up with not knowing what's going on."

"I agree," Gene said, glad that the topic at hand had switched to something other than the fight with Robinson. He could concentrate a little less on his answers. "I think we need to find out exactly who's running things here, and fast."

"If only there was some way for us to contact the guy who gave us the Talismans."

"There is."

Paul, Gene and Peter stared at Ace in amazement.

"What's wrong with you guys?" Ace asked.

Peter walked over to the others and spoke for the firs time since they had left Robinson's apartment. "You just said something, Ace, but it didn't sound like you."

Ace looked behind him, as if expecting to find the ventriloquist controlling him. He turned back to Peter. "You're nuts. I didn't say anything."

"Yes you did," Paul threw his hands up in the air. "I asked about the old man, and you suddenly started talking like Linda Blair in the EXORCIST -- "

"There is a way. In his mind is the way . . . ." The voice spoke again through the confused Ace's mouth.

"I didn't say that, guys."

"Maybe," Gene frowned in contemplation. "Maybe it was a post-hypnotic suggestion planted in your mind when you received your Talisman."

Peter looked at Gene incredulously.

"Well, Peter, anything's possible at this point. It would also help explain a question I've had running through my mind for ages. Ace always seemed to be able to use his powers more readily than the rest of us when they kicked in. If buried in that head of his are the instructions manuals for our powers, then that would explain it."

Ace felt insulted. "No way! Nobody could get into my mind and mess with it!"

"Mister Rogers could get into your mind, Ace," Paul rolled his eyes upward.

"Well, it's not coming back. I guess that's it."

"Not if I can reach it." Paul knelt down in front of the couch and placed his hands on Ace's shoulders.

"What are you doing?" Ace asked nervously.

"I'm going to look into your mind and try to locate that message you have in your head. If I concentrate, I might be able to bring up my powers and use the telepathic abilities to see into your mind." Paul closed his eyes and tilted his face to the ceiling.

"Great. Can you plant another suggestion to make me pick up some burgers on the way home?"

"Shut up, Ace."

The others watched as the two men sat motionless. A few seconds later, Ace's eyes closed and his head tilted back as Paul's had.

After just a couple of minutes, both men opened their eyes at the same moment. Paul groaned and stood up as Ace began to giggle hysterically.

"No -- oh brother," Paul collapsed back into his chair.

"What's wrong?" Gene asked with real worry.

"Nothing. I just can't believe what we have to do in order to contact the Talisman guy. Jeez." Paul shook his head in disbelief.

Ace was practically rolling with laughter by this time. Peter grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a shake.

"Well? What do we have to do?"

Ace calmed down and took a deep breath. He spoke between bursts of muffled chuckles.

"Nothing for you guys to do. I just have to do a little chant of my own creation in order to summon him to us. Evidently, discovering how to summon the guy was supposed to be the next step for us in learning about the Talismans, but we just never bothered to do it, so he's been sitting on his duff for the past several years waiting for us. Which is why we don't know more about our powers."

"Swell," Peter said, "so there really is no direction sheet for these powers. Nice to know that three years down the line."

Ace stood up and stumbled to a cross-legged position on the floor, his arms resting at his sides. He eyes closed and he began humming.

Gene's response was to let his jaw practically drop to the floor. He turned to Paul who was staring at the ceiling.

"What's he doing?"

"I can't bear to tell you," Paul kept his sight on the ceiling. "Just get on with it will you, Ace?"

The humming turned to a chant as the others listened.

"Da . . . da . . . da . . . da" Ace opened one eye and a wicked grin appeared on his face. ". . . Day-o . . . Da-a-a-a-ay-o . . . Daylight come and me want to go home . . . "

If Gene's jaw could have dropped any farther, it would have.

"Hey, Mr. Talisman, tell us what to do now. Daylight come and me want to go home . . . ." At that point, Ace rolled onto the floor with uncontrollable laughter as the others groaned along with Paul.

"You called?"

The noise ceased abruptly as the four men turned and saw the old man standing next to the window. His appearance had changed slightly. The beard and sunglasses were still in place, but now he wore blue jeans, cowboy boots, a plain white t-shirt and a beat-up leather jacket. He looked more like an aging biker than some otherworldly stranger.

"It really is him," Gene said.

"Of course, it's me," Morpheus replied with mock indignation. "Mr. Frehley finally gave the call and so I came. I am Morpheus."

"Well . . . Morpheus," Paul cut in, "why didn't you ever come to us before?"

Morpheus smiled as if talking to a child. "I could not appear until you called, so you had to find out how to contact me on your own. Everything must be learned about your powers on your own; otherwise, there is nothing to learn, only to emulate. The suggestion I put into the first Talisman, which your friend Mr. Frehley received, was to come to the surface when the time came. No sooner."

"That's ridiculous," Gene stated. "What if it had never surfaced?"

"Mr. Simmons, that is part of the lesson. If the suggestion had not come to his consciousness, then I would never have returned . . . . Except to retrieve the Talismans at some point and locate other, more worthy, guardians. And you would all be up the creek, as they say."

"Look," Ace's voice was apologetic. "Sorry about our reactions. We do need your help now.

"Someone, or some group, has been trying to steal the Talismans. They've been hitting us at various times during the past year and tonight they managed to get two of the Talismans. Luckily we got them back. Now, the only people who know about our powers are the people right here in this room. Or so we thought."

"So," Gene added, "why don't you fill us in on some of the blank areas. Especially how our powers work and how someone could so easily take Paul's and Ace's Talismans using 'magic,' when the powers are supposedly bonded to us."

Morpheus' brow furrowed with concern at the second part of Gene's inquisition. "What kind of magic?"

"Um . . . it was some sort of weird symbol -- like this," Ace took a sheet of paper from a note pad on the coffee table and drew the symbol he had seen at Robinson's apartment under the safe. Morpheus grimaced as he saw the drawing.

"The fool. He's taken everything into risk with this sort of shenanigan."

"Who?" Gene shouted with enough force that Morpheus gave Gene a cold stare.

Morpheus walked over to the couch and sat down as if he had suddenly aged a thousand years. "Let me start at the beginning. Have any of you heard of the NECRONOMICON or the Elder gods?"

Both Gene and Ace nodded with more vigor than Paul and Peter. Gene launched into a rather informed explanation.

"The NECRONOMICON was a non-existent book supposedly written by the 'Mad Monk' who used its spells to reach into another dimension that separates the known world from another one. In this other dimension were two races: The Elder gods and the Ancient Ones. The Elders ruled and created order, while the Ancient Ones created chaos for the most part. They knew of our world, but humans knew nothing of theirs.

"If I remember correctly, the only thing they had in common -- besides powers beyond belief -- was that they both despised the human race. In fact, the only thing that helped us was that they hated each other more than they hated us.

"That was one of the reasons we finally found out about them. The Ancient Ones felt that, by gaining control of this world, they could get the upper hand and control their own dimension. Thus, they began to use members of the human race as their 'tickets' into our world. When this happened, the Elders combated the Ancient Ones' plan. Again, using humans as pawns."

"Very good, Mr. Simmons. Your knowledge of our history surprises me."

Gene frowned. "I just know my H. P. Lovecraft. I don't necessarily believe it. I don't believe the Elders, if they existed, were gods."

"And well you shouldn't," Morpheus turned to Ace. "What do you know, Mr. Frehley?"

"Uh, actually, Gene seems to know more about it than I do."

"Well, I'll take care of the rest then. The Elders are real . . . and so were the Ancient Ones. However, we were never gods. Thinking so was our undoing."

Morpheus rose from the couch and began to pace around the room.

"We were a powerful race. We controlled our dimension much as you control your simple motor skills. Because of that ability, we began to believe we were more than an exceptional race of beings. We believed that we were gods.

"The Ancient Ones were our children. The renegades of our race. They felt we were too slow, too short-sighted. They wanted to move beyond their existence and control other dimensions. We knew of their plans to use your race for their own glory, and we knew we had to stop them. Some way. Somehow.

"The passage to Earth was virtually impossible. It took most of an Elder's power to visit this world, and it still does. To stay here and fight was inconceivable. Thus, we had to find another way. That is when the Talismans came to be.

"There were nine, at first. Given to humans we felt would be the most helpful in our battles against the Ancient Ones. With the Talismans, each individual received powers that were adequate for one-on-one contact with the enemy. That was how the war was fought for many years. A victory here, a loss there. A new champion to carry on. That is, until this century.

"The Ancient Ones were planning a final assault. Since their power had grown weak due to sloppy tactics, they gathered all their agents together and planned to wipe out our forces. That way they could seize the Talismans and gain control of our own powers.

"So, in the early part of this century, in what you call the U.S.S.R., the stage was set for the final confrontation. Our nine agents faced the Ancient Ones' masses."

Morpheus paused and bowed his head. "We won. The Ancient Ones were destroyed. But at such a cost. Such a cost.

"Five of our agents were killed in the battle, and their Talismans destroyed. The price had been too high for us as well. In fighting for so long, we lost our souls as well as half our power. Our age-long war with the rebels took its toll on our minds as well as our bodies. The war became our obsession. It was what we lived for, what we existed for."

Morpheus turned to the window and stared at the new moon.

"When it was over . . . finally over, we thought it was a new beginning. It wasn't. Because of the war, we had lost sight of what we were or what we could become."

The others listen as Morpheus' gaze fell.

"We had stopped our children. But we were dying. There was nowhere for us to go. No advancement to be made for a dead race." Morpheus smiled to himself. "As you can imagine, it was all downhill for there. Our only hope, we soon realized, was that perhaps we could teach what we had learned to our fellow beings.

"The four remaining Talismans were returned to your race's possession. The Elders felt that through the Talismans we could help humans realize the potential they had. Be it for good or evil."

"For good or evil?" Gene smirked.

"Good or evil, black or white, salvation or damnation." Morpheus looked straight into Gene's eyes in the reflection of the glass. "There are always two paths. The potential for either is within every individual, at any time. The decision must be made by that individual in order for justice to remain supreme."

Morpheus saw Gene's skeptical expression.

"You don't believe me, Mr. Simmons?"

"No," Gene answered. "You certainly don't look like an elder to me."

"And what should I look like?"

"Well, according to Lovecraft --"

" -- who was not a well man at the time," Morpheus interrupted. "You see, he was in possession of the power as you are. It had begun to affect his mind, and he began to fantasize on what we were, who we were, and why we were. He knew only the basics and added his own world to create the stories."

Gene had no reply.

"Which was fine with us. People believed it to be a fine piece of fiction, and that was that." He shuffled around and winked at Gene. "Though I never liked it that people didn't realize what a handsome guy I was."

Gene grinned slightly as Morpheus turned back to the window.

"We decided to choose four individuals from Earth to represent our cause, and then distribute the Talismans for them to use in whatever fashion they saw fit.

"However, they have to learn about the powers in their own way. If we pushed the powers upon you too early, you would not be able to handle it. If we told you too much, you might not have been willing to allow the powers to become a part of you. Or that the powers would take over you. Too much risk involved. It had to be over time. But when the time came, you began to understand the powers. That is what is important."

"But how do we know when they work?" Paul asked.

"When you need them."

"Not much of an answer, Morpheus. Just another riddle." Gene crossed his arms.

"The truth is called a riddle when it isn't understood, Mr. Simmons," Morpheus meant it as a slap to Gene's ego and from Gene's expression, it had worked. "Think back. When you needed the powers of the Talismans they came readily to you. Oh, maybe it took you some time to activate them properly, but they did come to you. The time when you caught your hand in the fire in Detroit; the time of Mr. Criss being captured on the set of the movie. Before then, there was never a need for them to be activated as you were never in a position to do anything with them."

"If we had known we could use them when we wanted, we would have tried to use them more," Gene said in exasperation.

"Why? What would be the point of that? As I stated, Mr. Simmons, the Talismans are for your use as a learning experience. You have really only now taken the first step towards understanding them, and that was by sending for me. There is still much to learn before you will be able to just call upon the powers at will."

Ace decided to change the subject. "You mentioned something about telling us why Paul's and mine powers were so easy to take away."

"The sign you saw underneath the safe in Robinson's apartment is one of the numerous signs used by the Ancient Ones."

"Whoa," Paul held up a hand as he spoke, "you said that you defeated the Ancient Ones, not like two minutes ago."

"We did. But defeating them does not mean that we killed them. We just merely locked them away until the time comes for them to rejoin us. They are our own kind. They are our children. We could not just let them die for their mistakes, no matter what the ultimate cost was to our race."

"So Robinson got hold of this symbol by using the NECRONOMICON?" Ace asked.

Both Morpheus and Gene shook their heads in unison. Morpheus was about to say something when he noted Gene's movement, paused, then went on.

"As Gene already knows, the book that Robinson referred to as the NECRONOMICON is not the real book of spells. It is a fake. Only those who died at the time battle in the U.S.S.R. knew anything remotely related to the spells."

"Then how did Robinson know about the symbol?" Paul asked.

"She is one of the many servants of a . . . man . . . you might know as Blackwell."

"Blackwell?" Gene turned to Peter, who was leaning up again the wall by the window with his back to the others. "Peter, didn't Robinson mention someone by the name of Blackwell?"

"I don't remember," Peter mumbled without turning around.

"I do," Gene continued thoughtfully.

"Y'know," Ace stated, "that's weird. About five years ago, some guy by that name was trying to sign us up with his record company. We turned him down, which seemed to really tick him off."

"Yes," Paul said. "Now that you mention it, his name was Blackwell. He seemed to be a bit crazy. I remember that he got really angry with us and began threatening us."

"Do you think . . . ?" Ace turned to Morpheus.

"It's the same man? Oh, yes. I know it is."

"Well," Gene fought his way back into the conversation, "who is he?"

"When the final battle came into play on Earth, we had used the majority of our energy to send one of the Elders from our Council here to help fight against the Ancient Ones. When the battle was over, he collected what remained of the Talismans and returned to us as a hero. He became a right-hand-man to the President of the Council, and was looked upon with great respect.

"For a time, his role in the Council was adequate for him, and he ruled strongly but fairly. Then things began to change. You see, the battle with the Ancient Ones had gone on much longer than just the involvement of humans. It has been around since before your race was even born. Blackwell was there from the start. He understood that , in order to preserve order, chaos must be contained. He was the first to expose the Ancient Ones and the first to fight them.

"With the war over, there was nothing left for Blackwell to command, nothing for us to pursue. He grew restless and agitated.

"Yet, the worst was when we discovered that our path down through the ages had lead us to a cliff and nowhere else to go. Blackwell could not stand to see our victory turn so shallow. Plus, the continuation of releasing our energy to power the Talismans for the Human Race just frustrated him even more. When Blackwell found out the --" Morpheus noticed that Ace was shaking his head in a negative manner, " -- found out that he could gain control of the Talismans be choosing who would be the next Guardians, he decided to do just that. I suspected his motives at the time and exposed him before he had a chance to give the Talismans to others, including Mr. Deveraux and Ms. Robinson.

"He was banished from our ranks. He also disappeared shortly thereafter. I thought he might come here and try to gain your loyalties, but so far I had seen no reason to intervene."

"So what are the Elders going to do now that you know how dangerous this is?" Paul asked.

"Us? We can do nothing. It is against our beliefs for your race, and we couldn't do anything even if we wanted to."

"Why not?"

"It takes a tremendous amount of energy just to bring me here to explain what little I can. We can do nothing more ourselves physically on this plane."

"But," Ace wondered, "if that's true, how does Blackwell continue staying on Earth?"

Somehow Morpheus' facial features turned darken than it had before. "The symbol under the safe was one devised by the Ancient Ones. If Blackwell is involved, he may have turned to his own past enemy for help in remaining on Earth. Probably saw their cooperation as a means to get what he wants. He knew he had to stay here in order to gain control of the Talismans. He found a way. And a darker, more dangerous way I cannot think of."

"So, if the Elders don't help, we have to save the world on our own?" Gene questioned.

"Right."

For the first time, Peter moved from the window and into the center of the group, clearing his throat.

"You'll have to do it without me."

"What do you mean?" Ace's voice was mixed with worry and recognition.

"I'm leaving the band."

"Do you mean it?" Gene asked calmly, not looking at Peter.

"Yeah . . . I've thought about it for a while, and I think it's time for me to head out on my own. You guys are special to me -- and always will be -- but my instincts are to branch out. I want to do things, musically and otherwise, that I can't do within the framework of KISS."

"B-but, we need you," Ace stammered anxiously. "Right, Morpheus?"

The old man shook his head. "It is better this way, actually. The powers that rule through Mr. Criss' Talisman are far too weak to be effective for very much longer."

"I don't understand," Paul said, scooting to the edge of his chair.

"The Talismans act an activator of powers from within and without. It is not the source of power itself, but a nexus point to allow the powers of the holder to be harnessed and shaped. Mr. Criss has faced more danger than the rest of you. Only the Talisman saved him from death those many times, but the nature of his powers is of flesh and blood. If it is passed on it will regenerate, but held by the same man it will run out eventually. In other words, the cat only has nine lives. It would be best for all of you if he turned the Talisman over to someone else."

Peter saw Morpheus' outstretched palm reach out to him. He took his Talisman and laid it in the man's hand. Once doing so, Peter could feel the change, though it felt nothing more than like a soft breeze on his shoulders and chest. With its passing, relief flooded him, and he laughed.

"If you give this to some geek, I'll really be mad." Peter laughed again and started to gather his things. No one else spoke. He walked back to the group and looked at each of them.

"Look, I'm going to go away for a few days, and then we'll worry about how to end it all up. I just want some time to think. I'll see you later."

Peter walked toward the door slowly, giving his friends a final glance. Without another word, he left the apartment.

Ace was the first to speak.

"Wow . . . I can't believe it . . . wow . . . ."

"So what do we do now?" Paul asked the group.

"Don't worry," Morpheus assured them. "The person who will take Mr. Criss' place will come soon. Just be ready for him."

"And how will we know?" Gene asked him.

"Trust me." Morpheus winked and started to fade from the room. The others were shocked.

"What are you doing?" Ace said.

"The time has come for me to go. I cannot do any more right now. Just watch out for Blackwell."

Only a voice remained in the room.

"And make sure that Talismans never reach his hands. Should he gain control of all four, it will be the end for all."

Then there was silence. The three sat stunned at not only Morpheus' warning, but also at the suddenness of Peter's quitting. Finally, Paul turned to face Gene.

"Well," Paul said, "that's another studio day down the toilet."

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