Star Harbor Nights

Perfect and D.J. exchanged surprised looks. Neither of them had been sure what--if anything--they would find on top of the reputedly haunted Harbor Hill, but the nude woman apparently formed of plant matter who'd just off-handedly declared that the world might be in need of saving was whole orders of magnitude outside their expectations.

"Let's start slow here," Perfect said to her.

"Okay. I can do slow," Vine said amiably.

"We've established that you're not a ghost," Perfect said. "And that you think you might be a dryad. But what does that mean, in real-world terms? Can you tell us what you actually are?"

"I'm the elemental embodiment of plant," she replied. "I think."

"I don't remember 'plant' being an element," D.J. said. "Either on the periodic table or the random encounter table. What gives?"

"The four classical elements in the Greek system were earth, air, fire, and water," Perfect said. "The Asian system didn't recognize air, but did include metal and wood... which, I guess, could be construed as plant life. Is that what you are?"

Vine nodded her head, though the look on her face said she was anything but certain.

"How many others are there like you?" Perfect asked her.

The elemental creature scrunched up her green face in concentration. Perfect observed that her face lacked the usual underlying musculature. Instead, her skin... which seemed to be similar to a waxy green plant stalk... simply bunched up on itself. It looked real enough when at rest, though.

"More than one," Vine said finally.

"How many more than one?" Perfect asked. Vine shifted uncomfortably, but said nothing. Perfect asked her, "How high exactly can you count?"

"More than one," Vine repeated.

"So math's not her strong point," D.J. said.

"Are you the only plant elemental, or is there 'more than one' of those?" Perfect asked.

"I think I'm the only one," Vine said. "But there's... others. My sisters... like the ones that you said before."

"And do they all happen to conveniently live in civic landmarks scattered about the Star Harbor metropolitan area?" D.J. asked.

"Um... no?" Vine answered, though it sounded like a guess. "The others live... places."

"She wasn't kidding when she said she could do 'slow'," D.J. said in a quiet aside to Perfect.

"Let's just focus," Perfect replied. "Okay, Vine... you said you think the world needs saving. From what?"

Vine shrugged.

"I dunno," she said. "It's just... a feeling I have."

"What kind of feeling?" D.J. asked her.

"Okay, well, um... you know that feeling you get when it's like, your body is connected to a vast and primordial force and that force is being threatened by an ancient and unspeakable force of destruction from outside the bounds of time and space?" Vine said.

Perfect and D.J. exchanged looks again.

"Uh... not as such, no," Perfect said.

"Oh!" Vine said. "Well, it feels kind of like your body is connected to a..."

"Yeah, I think we got the gist," D.J. said tersely.

"Now, there's no reason to get snappy with her," Perfect said. "She's still a person... kind of."

"Look at her... she's like a biodegradable blow-up doll," D.J. said. "She talks like a voice box from the Sexist Stacy Shopping Action Playset Registered Trademark, and I bet she'd have sex with anything that has a penis."

"Oh, I'm not that picky," Vine said with a shrug. "All physical expressions of love serve their purpose in nature."

"See what I mean?" D.J. said. "Even her body looks like it's straight from the central casting department in an adolescent boy's subconscious."

"Oh, Holly helped me shape this body," Vine said. "My last one was more, um, willowy? But he said if I was going to be his superhero partner, I needed to look like one. He also said that... um... I would be an inspiration to young girls everywhere by... being confident in my own sexuality... and... um... showing that I wasn't afraid to... assert myself? As... a... man's equal on the... world stage?"

She blinked up at the two expectantly, like a child who'd just recited the answer to an oral quiz, waiting to be told that she had done well.

"A voluptuous vegetable coached in the gay man's take on the pop culture version of girl power," D.J. said, rolling her eyes. "God save us all."

"So, what else can you tell us about this feeling, Vine?" Perfect asked gently. "When did it start?"

"Earlier," Vine said. "Like... before now?"

"How much earlier?" Perfect said. "Days? Months?" Then a thought hit her. "Would you say it was about a week ago?"

"How many times did the sun rise and set since it started?" D.J. asked, thinking that might be a measurement of time important to a plant nature spirit.

"More than one time," Vine said, without hesitation.

"I think we've just about squeezed all the information we can out of this lead," D.J. said.

"I hate to say it, but I think you're right," Perfect said. "Vague portents of doom... that I don't even know are related to what I'm working on. But you know what? I set out to find the Harbor Hill ghost, and I did."

"Where?" Vine asked, looking around.

"Yep," Perfect said. "The important thing is that I did what I said I would."

"Oh, good!" Vine said happily.

"So, we're going now?" D.J. asked Perfect.

"Yeah," she said. To Vine, she said, "We'll be back when we know more about Holly. Well, I'll be back," she amended. "It's probably best if you stay out of sight until then."

"Okay!" Vine said enthusiastically, immediately toppling backwards--and out of sight--into the tree against which she'd been leaning, which also then somehow folded itself away from sight in a way that neither Perfect nor D.J., even with her computer-assisted senses, could catch.

"Didn't you expect that the basic forces of the world would be less... basic?" D.J. said.

"I don't think I ever expected to meet an elemental embodiment of anything," Perfect said, turning and heading back down the hill. "But that's one reason I wanted to do this. I have no reasonable basis on which to form expectations, when it comes to supernatural forces."

"Well, based on our statistical sample of one, supernatural forces are pretty damn stupid," D.J. said, following alongside her. The trees which had seemed so oppressively close on the way up now seemed more open and inviting.

"You're really stuck on that, aren't you?" Perfect asked. "I look at more like, she is what she is. I mean, how smart is an anthropomorphic talking plant supposed to be? It's like the old line my daddy always uses about the mule playing poker: 'Never mind that he loses every hand...'"

"'...what's impressive is that he can do it at all.' Yeah, well, didn't she remind you of all those vacuous ditzes we went to school with?" D.J. asked. "The ones who only got into Avalon because of who their parents are?"

"Be fair," Perfect said. "Very few people get into a school like Avalon unless their family's rich and important. The fact that some of us also happened to deserve it could be described as a lucky coincidence at best."

"True," D.J. said. "I don't know if I can really explain this, though... I mean, I know school wasn't exactly a picnic for you, but at least when the other girls in the house looked at you like you were from outer space, it was because you personally acted like somebody from outer space."

"Uh... thanks?"

"I'm just saying, Vine reminded me, in a superficial way, of some superficial people," D.J. said. "And, okay, so... maybe... I reacted badly to her as a result of that. It was... probably... wrong."

"I'm glad to hear you admit that," Perfect said. "You can apologize to her the next time we come back to see her."

"Hey, now, let's not get carried away..."

"Just to let you know," Diana told Ray as they approached Hascomb Park later that evening, "I've got a couple of stooges in charcoal suits who've been shadowing me off and on since I got back into the city."

"Forbies?" Ray asked. His tone almost made it an oath. Diana nodded. "Great," he said. "I've been trying to stay off their radar, you know."

"You're not just off it, you're beneath it," she said. "Believe me, they already know as much as they care to about you... you've never registered, but you don't exactly keep your powers and activities a secret. If they ever had a specific use for a nigh-unkillable fire-breathing clown, they'd haul you in for noncompliance in a heartbeat and lean on you until you played ball."

"And you rate their attention how?"

"Gee," Diana said. "Let's stop and think: what use would a shadowy government agency have with a world-class martial artist who also happens to sometimes act as, as you put it, 'a fucking assassin?' If they thought they had proof that I'm a mutant, they'd be all over me like... you on anybody."

"What, they haven't caught you doing the 'running-up-the-wall' thing?" Ray asked. "Or punching through a steel door? Or fighting a dozen ninjas blindfolded in the dark?"

"Yes, multiple times, and why am I blindfolded if it's dark?" Diana said. "But the thing is... all of those things are possible for an ordinary martial arts master... or maybe a Darkwell one, anyway, but Darkwells aren't subject to the mandatory registration laws. Anyway, fighting off a dozen ninjas is easy. It's when you run into one ninja that you know you're in trouble."

"Why's that?"

"The Law of Conservation of Ninjitsu," Diana said casually.

"Confucius say what?"

"Conservation of Ninjitsu," Diana said. "It states that there is a finite amount of ninjitsu to be distributed among either side of a battle. Therefore, the threat presented by each individual ninja decreases proportionally to the number of ninja allies present."

"How can you go from talking about being an assassin to joking?" Ray asked.

"You used to like jokes," Diana said. "Anyway, kidding aside... I think there is actually something to it."

"How's that?"

"Well, if you run across a band of a dozen or more goons, you can assume they're just that: goons. There just aren't that many top-notch fighters in the world, and the ones there are don't necessarily like to work together."

"Really?" Ray said. "Because when I think of you, 'team player' is the first word that springs to mind." 

"Oh, give it a rest," Diana said. "Anyway, a truly skilled warrior would feel insulted to be placed alongside fighters of lesser prowess rather than over them, so when you've got a group of martial artists wearing the same uniform and rank indicators, you know you're dealing with a least common denominator, skill-wise. On the other hand, if you're dealing with two or three... or, heaven help you, just one... then there could be almost any level of skill, and if we assume that the ninja in question was employed against you for a purpose, then it makes sense to assume that level's somewhere in the neighborhood of 'really fucking high.'"

"You lose me when you throw in that secret martial artist lingo like 'really fucking high'," Ray said.

"The fact that top warriors command top salaries factors into it, too... somebody with an army of minions is probably not paying the whole group half as much as what the person with a single skilled henchman is spending, because they went for a group discount. Do you follow me?"

"If you mean, do I track your logic, then yes," Ray said. "But I'm starting to wonder exactly why I'm following somebody who's devoted so much thought to ninja economics... into a crime-ridden park... after dark."

"I needed a couple extra credits senior year and ninj-ec was an easy A," Diana said, giving a fluid shrug. The comment actually elicited a smile from Ray. "Anyway, you can't seriously be worried about a few muggers and gangbangers, can you?"

"Not really," Ray said. "It's just, you never actually told me what we're doing here... I mean, I know we're meeting a contact Shad gave you, but why here? Doesn't this kind of thing normally go down in shadowy bars or back alleys and things?"

"Normally," Diana said. "But Guzman said he wanted to meet me somewhere nobody'd be watching. Nobody ever goes into 'Has-Scum' Park after dark without a good reason. It was either here or Harbor Hill... but I figured if you were going to be backing me up, I'd keep it on your territory."

"I do know my way around it, yeah," Ray said. "So where we heading? The stone footbridge?"

"Yeah, he's supposed to meet us there in about an hour and a half," Diana said. "I figure we'd show up early, get in position somewhere out of sight. You can be pretty stealthy... considering how big and loud and smelly you are."

'I am not smelly... and an hour and a half?" Ray asked incredulously. "Whatever happened to showing up thirty minutes early?"

"The person who shows up half an hour before always gets ambushed by the person who showed up an hour early," Diana said.

"So why isn't that us?"

"Because that's when the bad guys'd show up, thinking we'd get there only half an hour early."

"Maybe the bad guys have places to be," Ray said.

"You said you didn't have anything else going on tonight," Diana said. "If I can put up with your company for ninety minutes... anyway, quiet... I hear something ahead."

"Maybe somebody showed up two hours ahead," Ray said. "Or maybe they brought a sleeping bag and a folding chair, like those people who wait in line for..."

"Quiet!" Diana hissed, pulling Ray off the foot path and out of the light.

"What is it, a heartbeat?" Ray asked quietly.

"Way too far off to tell," Diana whispered back. "I'm better in an enclosed space. There's definitely somebody up by the bridge, though. It might not have anything to do with us, though. I mean, we are pretty early."

"You think?" Ray said sarcastically as she slipped off between bushes. He followed. He was fairly agile and generally light on his feet, but that didn't stop Diana from shooting him a dirty look over her shoulder every time she felt he was making too much noise.

They came to the point where the concrete path unnecessarily split, with a loop going up and over the old stone footbridge and another branch going straight under it. A big, stocky man was visible in the harsh orange glow from the light strung on the middle of the bridge. It was impossible to make out his features.

"Is that your man?" Ray asked Diana as quietly as he could.

"It was," she said, her eyes narrowing as she stepped forward out of the bushes. Ray watched, his confusion fading as the man slumped and fell face forward, revealing another man standing behind in an exquisitely tailored black suit with a black shirt, and a silver vest, tie, gloves, and domino mask. He held a short, square-bladed ninjato sword out level in front of him.

"Diana Peacock," the man said. He whisked his sword off to the side, flicking the blood off the blade, then went into a small bow. "The illustrious... ah... Parakeet." He chuckled, then brought the sword up into a ready stance. "It will be a pleasure defeating you."

"Help me out, Di," Ray said in a stage whisper. "Math has never been my strong point... but... that would be one ninja, right?"