Star Harbor Nights

"Good morning, starshine," D.J. said. "Where's your bunny?"

"Put him back up on the shelf," Perfect said. "I feel lousy enough without listening to him saying 'I told you so' over and over again."

"You're not in pain, are you?" D.J. asked, glossing right over the reference to Mr. Buttons talking in favor of the more salient details of Perfect's well-being.

"Not from the battle wound... that's still healed. But, my head hurts, I can hear my pulse, and I feel like I vomited Novocain," Perfect said. "Is that a hangover?"

"It is," D.J. said. "Considering that last night, an alien robot was trying to turn you into a ventriloquist dummy, I'd say you came off pretty well."

"That never would've happened if I hadn't been drinking," Perfect said, sinking down on the couch beside her. "Lesson learned."

"You know, there's more than one lesson you can learn from this," D.J. said. "You've always been a fast learner, but there's some things you can't pick up from books. Maybe you should get out and socialize more... stay away from booze, obviously, but there're places you can go and meet people. I'll bet it wouldn't take much first-hand experience for you to learn how to tell when somebody's hitting on you, and when they're leading you on. That, and you might find it fun."

"Yeah, it probably would be fun to learn that kind of stuff," Perfect said. "I could compare my psychology training to the real world experiences and see how they stack up."

"I meant, it would be fun for you to meet people," D.J. said. "But baby steps, I guess."

"Anyway, I'm not completely hopeless with people. I've actually had four heroes hit on me since I started going out," Perfect said. "I only let two of them buy me drinks, and only had sex with one... but since two of them were women, I guess that's still only a fifty-fifty track record for me."

"How did that happen, anyway?" D.J. asked. "You never seemed like the type of person to do something completely on impulse before... I mean, you did some stuff that looked spontaneous, but then it turned out you'd been planning it for weeks or months."

"I don't know," Perfect said. "I guess, in a way, I had been planning on it. I always had this idea... okay, this fantasy, really... about meeting a good-looking male hero and we'd be partners, and there'd be tension... you know, uh... sexual tension," she said, repressing a giggle, "and then we'd fall in love. I recognized it was a fantasy and it probably wouldn't happen like that... even when I did meet a good-looking hero and there was--at least, I think there was--sexual tension... but then he opened up and told me all this stuff, and... it really felt like he loved me. I guess he didn't say it, but that's what it felt like it. Then the next day I find out he'll say anything to sleep with anything with a pulse... and just in case I wasn't feeling miserable enough, everybody who knows him tells me that I'm not his type but he'd probably sleep with me if he was desperate." She sighed. She looked close to tears, but she blinked them away. "Not exactly a storybook romance, huh?"

"Depends on which books you read," D.J. said. "Romance novels may have the charming prince, but they've usually got the handsome cad, too."

"I haven't really read any romance novels," Perfect said. "I don't really read as much fiction as I do non-fiction." She paused and reflected for a moment, then added, "And I guess what fiction I do read is probably aimed at a younger audience than romance novels are. But, can we talk about something else?"

"Sure," D.J. said. "Anything on your mind?"

"Well, when I asked if you were a superhero, you said 'kind of'," Perfect said. "At the moment, I was just happy to see you... but I'm also kind of curious what you meant."

"Well, at first, I never thought of my new capabilities as 'powers' or considered what I could do with them. Then, I was at this party thrown by Callisto... I went outside for some air, and the Hex Kittens were fighting some kind of vampire things," D.J. said. "Or maybe I should say, the Hex Kittens were fighting and there were some kind of vampire things there, too... I actually stood there watching for a few minutes before I stepped in and ended it. Stuff like that's happened a couple other times... I was just on the spot when something was going down. I gather it happens to the Hex Kittens all the time, though. Something about them draws mystical menaces to them, or vice versa."

"So they do actually have powers?" Perfect mused thoughtfully.

"Oh, so the Hex Kittens, you've heard of," D.J. said in a playful-hurt tone.

"I've only really taken note of them in conjunction with the speculation about their supposedly mystical nature," Perfect said with a shrug. "I don't think I'd be able to identify any of their songs if I heard them."

"Yeah, same as anything else that came out after the early nineties," D.J. said. "An appreciation for the classics is one thing, but... time marches on, you know?"

"I just like what I like, that's all," Perfect said.

"Well, I did some counting backwards," D.J. said, "and the way I figure it, your musical tastes froze when you were only nine or so... which would also be the time all the stuff your room dates to."

"Yeah, that's kind of interesting," Perfect said, reaching for the remote. "Hang on, I want to watch this." She hit the button to unmute it, but the TV went off instead.

"Did something happen to you when you were nine?" D.J. asked.

"I said I wanted to watch that," Perfect said, turning the TV back on, only to see it re-mute itself with an invisible wave of infrared rays from D.J. "Jeez, you sound like Ray... does everything in life have to have some big tragic explanation for it?"

"No," D.J. said. "I'm just... well, I'm trying to understand, is all."

"Your own father said that I was probably the highest functioning double Darkwell he's ever met," Perfect said. "If I am DDK, and I still have problems with that theory, then maybe the question isn't why I'm wrong in the head so much as how I'm so right."

"I didn't mean that you're 'wrong in the head'," D.J. said. "You want to cling to some reminders of your childhood, that's fine with me... I mean, by some peoples' measurements, you still are a child. And let's face it, whether we're talking musical artist or superhero, there's some professions where you probably can't get by without a slight case of arrested development. But if you're planning on facing life-and-death situations on a regular basis, I don't think you can afford to have any unexploded landmines lying around in your psyche, you know? You don't have to talk about it with me, but you should at least think about it... and think about talking it over with a professional. Broker would probably know somebody trustworthy."

Perfect appeared to be listening to her words, but suddenly she sprang up from the sofa, vaulted over the coffee table, went into a forwards roll to the TV and came up, hitting the volume button and covering the infrared receiver with her other hand.

"Most people just plug their ears and go 'la la la'," D.J. said wryly.

"Shh," Perfect said, moving away from the screen so that D.J. could see what had caught her attention. The television was showing night time footage of a burning church, which then cut to a scene of a smoking ruin the next morning.

"What is that, new developments on the church fire?" D.J. asked.

"That isn't the same church," Perfect said, even as the picture changed to the remains of yet another church. She turned up the volume further.

"...baffled by two more Catholic church burnings last night, each following the same mysterious M.O. as the arson at Saint Martin's. Saint Augustine and Saint Cecelia's caught fire in the early morning hours. A spokesmen for the Archdiocese of Star Harbor said that..."

"I guess we can rule out the 'prelude to the Bone Lord ritual' theory," Perfect said, switching off the TV as, in the absence of any real details, the news went on to another story. "If not, it could mean there's something even bigger still coming... now, I'm actually finding myself hoping it turns out they're not related. Other than the timing and the magic connection, there's not that much to suggest that they are."

"So, how much do you know about all this stuff?" D.J. said. "I gathered it's the case you've been working on... well, I heard most of your conversation with Broker, actually."

"Well, that's really about it," Perfect said. "Other than some stuff Charade told me about the runes which started the fire. It's an ancient Aramaic spell, which translates roughly to 'I will unmake as I speak.'"

"Charade? The magician?" D.J. said. "Damn, Dock Shadow, me, then that big blonde bitch, and Charade, too. You're getting all the celebrity guest stars. So, he does real magic?"

"Uh, not in the way you mean," Perfect said. "I think. He kind of had his own viewpoint on that stuff. Anyway, so far it's more like brushes with fame... and I guess when you get right down to it, I don't know that much about the Bone Lords or the church thing. Maybe that's part of the problem. Patrolling is important, in a big picture kind of way, but other than the meeting with Charade--which Ray set up--and a little poking around in my own library, I haven't done much in the way of actually investigating. What's the point of having a great big brain if you don't use it?"

"You don't know how many times I wanted to ask you that last night," D.J. said. "Where do we start?"

"You want to help?"

"What's the point of having a computer brain if you don't use it?" D.J. replied. "I'll make you a deal... I'll tag along with you during the day today and help you with whatever sleuthing you want to do, and you tag along with me tonight."

"What's tonight?" Perfect asked.

"I'm going to a party at a club... as a guest, not a performer," D.J. said. "I'll get you in the door, you can work on your people skills a bit."

"I don't know," Perfect said. "I don't really have anything club-worthy to wear..."

"We'll get you some clothes, then."

"I don't know how to behave in..."

"That's why you need to learn," D.J. said insistently.

"I won't know anybody there but you," Perfect said.

"That's, uh, not completely true," D.J. said. "You're actually going to be my plus-two. My dad 'suggested' to me that, as long as I'm in the Harbor, I should try to spend some time with Adonis... and maybe get him to work on his people skills, too."

"Adonis?" Perfect said. "Well, I suppose that means I won't be the most socially inept person in the room."

"Great," D.J. said. "So... where do we start?"

"Well, since neither of us are mystic types," Perfect said, "the first thing we need to do is contact somebody with knowledge of the supernatural."

"Who did you have in mind?"

"No idea," Perfect admitted.

"Not a problem," D.J. said. "As it happens, improvisation is my specialty."

"Great," Perfect said. "You know, I feel a lot better after talking to you... and now, having a plan... well, sort of... but, anyway, the fact that I'm going to be doing something on my own initiative, instead of waiting for Ray or somebody. I think this is just what I need... a little touch of self-reliance."

 "I agree," D.J. said. "You want some coffee or anything?"  

"No, I'd rather get cracking," Perfect said, getting to her feet, though she headed for the stairs instead of the front door. "Gimme a minute, and I'll be ready to go."

 "You gonna change into your costume?" D.J. asked.

 "No, not during the daytime," Perfect said, heading up the stairs... and knowing her friend's audio processors would follow the sound of her voice. "Just gotta grab one thing from my room."

D.J. had a pretty good idea what that one thing would be.