A figure in bandages watched Eclipse and Scanner-Man speed away.

He was dressed similar to Nemesis, his features hidden behind dark spectacles and thick clothing. This figure was smaller with a more normal build. As the two of them rode away, he pulled at his bandages and clothing. Everywhere that he removed clothing or cloth, there was nothing!

The man was invisible, and, as he stashed his clothing, no one saw that he manipulated a magnetic harness to allow him to glide across the ground. He grabbed a passing vehicle and caught a ride with it. His feet were fitted with magnetic cuplinks that were as invisible as himself. He smiled though no none could see him.

As the figure glided behind the car, he kept sight of the Nightmobile and the Scanner Bike. At a stop sign he let go and glided up the line of traffic till he was latching onto the rear of the Nightmobile. The journey was short and ended in the depths of a darkened parking garage.

The compact black car tucked away behind a dumpster and the bike parked next to it. The two adventurers headed for a seemingly blank wall. Eclipse stood before the wall and took out a small flashlight; no light shone from the flash as Eclipse fingered it, but a small panel opened in the wall. Eclipse depressed a button and secret elevator doors opened admitting the two of them.

Even if the invisible figure could reach the elevator, he would barely fit into the elevator without alerting the two of his presence before he was ready to do so. Instead he repeated the code that he saw Eclipse enter, over and over in his mind.

After awhile the door opened again and a figure came out; he was of average height and weight. The figure that could not be seen decided that he was handsome in a way, but he probably knew it. The figure was stressed by the look of him; he kept running his hands through his hair and wrinkles of tension were forming on his face.

The man got in a sports car and sped out of the garage. The invisible man walked over to the panel before it could close and operated the key pad. The doors opened again and he stepped in. The elevator had only one designation. The figure stepped back out; he guessed that there would be all kinds of security devices in a high tech elevator like that. Instead he glided out of the garage and moved silently to the side of the building.

The figure set his gliding device on maximum power and gripped the wall. As he pulled on the wall at various outcroppings, he rose quicky as if he were climbing a wall on the moon. It took several minutes, but soon he was floating just above the surface of the penthouse patio. The figure deactivated the gliding harness and floated to the ground.

He looked into the windows to see a young man placing things away inside a hidden compartment behind a well-stocked bar. The man inside the room was of average build, maybe a bit wiry, and had a shock of blonde hair. The man's features were more pretty than handsome. The man walked as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

The invisible man reached for the door; it was open slightly and it was easy to force it further without calling any attention to the window. The invisible man entered the room and stood watching the young man. He was pouring himself a drink. The invisible man wanted a drink too--he had better get on with it before the guy passed out.

He stood at a few feet from the young guy and spoke. The instant he voiced a word, the young man leapt to his feet and grabbed a pistol from his coat. A menacing looking .45 automatic was brandished in the general direction that the invisible man was standing in. He thought to himself, then spoke again.

"Hey, put that down--you could put an eye out!" he warned.

The young guy just about jumped out of his skin.

"Where the hell are you?! Who are you?" asked Blane Merritt warily.

"Right here, can't you see me?" The invisible man was kind of a jerk.

Blane made a frustrated growl and continued to point the pistol in the direction of the voice. Blane summoned up some courage; after all, if he wanted he could make things even by blacking out the room and putting on his goggles.

"Ok, Mr. Poltergeist, what's your deal?"

"Poltergeist? Hmmmmmmmm, I like the way that rolls off the tongue," he purred.

"The deal....." Blane didn't like this guy very much.

"Oh yes, I have come to make you an offer...Eclipse!" The Poltergeist paused for dramatic effect.

Blane looked a little ghost-like himself as he spoke.

"All right, who are you and what makes you think that I am some psycho running around in a black mask?"

"I followed you ....invisibly!" The Poltergeist drew out the last part of his statement to make his point, then rubbed his invisible knuckles against Blane's head giving him a nuggie. Blane lashed out blindly and hit something.

"Ow! No need to get all huffy!" The voice cracked as if he was injured.

"Sorry, it's just hard to deal with a guy who you can't see."

"Yeah, try not being able to see your own body!" A trace of bitterness ran through in the Poltergeist's voice.

"Like I asked in the first place," Blane said lowering his pistol; "Who the hell are you?"

"I am Dr Casper Channing," declared the Poltergeist dramatically.

"Channing.....You were killed by an explosion in your lab!" Blane was confused, but only for a second. "Wait, you were not killed, just....changed."

Blane seemed impressed with the invisible man.

"Yes, changed forever, as far as I know." The Poltergeist was drawing his bandages from a hidden compartment in his clothing. The bandages snaked around his face like a coiling serpent. Then goggles were fitted into place.

"Whoa!" gasped Blane. "Where did you get those?"

"The drug store," stated the Poltergeist matter-of-factly.

"Fuck you," said Blane dryly.

"Ok ok, I got them from inside my clothing. Anything within a few inches of me for a few seconds turns invisible. The effect is temporary and I don't know how safe it is."

"Wow," said Blane admiringly.

The Poltergeist stood in full glory looking just like Claude Raines. A mummified crimefighter in a smoking jacket.

"You remind me of someone," laughed Blane.

"I would be happy to be anyone right now," stated Channing rather sadly.

"Does it hurt?" asked Blane.

"No," answered the Poltergiest. "But I'll tell you what does. It hurts everytime I think of my wife and child being killed in the destruction of my lab. It hurts when I think of my wife's face as the huge light-bending machine fell on her. It hurts when I remember the leering face of that guy and his thugs. The ones that came for my inventions."

Blane was silent; it had not been a good New Year for anyone it seemed. He did have one bit of news though.

"Hey, Poltergeist! Don't worry too much. Your son is alive--he was put in a foster home, at least for the time. We could go get him--oh no, I guess an invisible dad wouldn't be very cool."

"No!" spat the Poltergeist. "It wouldn't be cool to try and get him, but thanks."

The Poltergeist seemed to be calm now. Blane reached for a drink from the bar and passed it to the Poltergeist.

"Thanks, I really needed that."

"No problem, now why are you here?"

"I heard about you on the news and through old newspapers. When I saw that story about how you stopped the nerve gas from killing everyone in the city, I knew that you could help me. I must admit that you seem a little younger than you should be."

"I take really good vitamins," said Blane dryly.

"Well, it doesn't matter much--I just want to get back at the man who had my wife killed and made me into this." He gestured at his bandaged face.

"Well, why don't you start by telling me the whole story," prompted Blane.

It was at that time that there was a ringing at the door...

Next episode....The Cryptic Book!