Star Harbor Nights

The third annual Conference on Parahuman Participation in the Scientific Process had been held in Nebula City, hosted by the UNC science campus. This might have seemed an odd choice, given that most of the superpowered scientists in America were concentrated on the west coast, and indeed, the previous years' conferences had been held at the DELPHI Institute of Crescent Bay. The end result was that nobody outside the tight-knit community of mutant researchers even noticed... it was like a slightly overcrowded faculty luncheon.

This year's had been more of an occasion. Doctor Jonathon Day, PhD, had played host at the previous attempts. This time, he'd been the keynote speaker and guest of honor. The pale skinned, dark haired beauty he brought with him was introduced as his associate, and favored any who referred to her as his assistant with a glacial stare. Her nametag read "Trinity Night." There were no initials after it. She had no degree or accreditation from any university or organization that any scientist would recognize, and it was widely rumored that she was one of "those people."

If not for the topic of the symposium, it might have been assumed that the phrase referred to a mutant. The mainstream scientific community tended to look down its nose at any research that had been aided by mutant powers, as the cornerstone of the scientific process was reproducible results and most mutant abilities were one of a kind anomalies that seemed to break or ignore the usual laws of physics. Even if it was rarely voiced, the sentiment that mutants should be studied rather than studying was not uncommon in the halls of academia.

The unwieldily-named CPPSP sought to change all that by dragging mutant theorists and researchers out into the open, and allow them to display the groundbreaking achievements they'd made. If the first two attempts had been non-events, the third had been a qualified success. The mainstream media had showed up, and even if most of the mentions would fall under the heading of "weird news", there was nobody in the scientific community who didn't know the value of getting one's name in the paper.

On the basis of this, the doctor's associate was able to convince him they had cause to celebrate. Thus the close of the evening found the pair dining al fresco at Reflet d'Or, an upscale Nebula City eatery. They had already been dressed formally for the conference so they didn't even have to change. There were only three other parties enjoying the crisp autumn evening on the fenced-off patio. The food was excellent, the wine was divine, and the only direct light came from a frosted glass candleholder in the middle of the table. It was the perfect end to an exhilarating day... the perfect time for conversation to turn away from the all-important work of the conference towards more personal topics.

Or that's what Trinity thought.

"The whole thing is really very childish. If the rest of the world could only see what I see every time I look up at the sky, there'd be no problem funding the space program, SETI, or any of it, really," Jonathon lectured over desert. He took off his glasses... the thin plastic lenses specially treated to to block all but the normal visible spectrum... and gazed upwards. "There's a beauty in space you can't imagine... it's alive with colors that can't be described except to see them."

"Don't you ever worry that when you spend all your time looking at things a million miles away, you might miss seeing something that's right in front of you?" Trinity asked.

"Why... yes," Jonathon said slowly, thoughtfully. He put his glasses back on and looked across the table at Trinity very solemnly. "I think I do know what you mean, at that."

Trinity leaned forward in anticipation, candlelight glinting off the obsidian pendant that adorned her chest.

"I think I am getting to be a touch far-sighted," Jonathon continued, taking his glasses off again and examining the curve of the lenses. "I think I'm going to have to ease up on the telescopic vision or get these fitted out as bifocals. Can you feature that?"

He chuckled at the idea. Trinity sighed.

"Still and all," he went on. "I have to say, I enjoyed this little trip more than I thought I would... the getting out there, meeting people, exchanging ideas... it's all really rather invigorating, isn't it?"

"If you spent a little less time in the lab, you could make that a statement instead of a question," Trinity said with a half-smile.

"Well, I didn't just mean the conference," Jonathon said. "I also quite enjoy... I say, did you hear that?"

"No, go on," Trinity said, though she knew she'd heard something, too... a heavy thud-thud sound, not too far off.

"It sounds like footsteps... big footsteps," Jonathon said. "Like that time in Bolivia, with the... the archeologist woman, you remember? The thing with the, er, dinosaurs."

"There are no dinosaurs in Nebula City," Trinity said. "And even if there were, this city has superheroes."

"The Wisdom Twins were doing security at the campus," Jonathon said. He stood up and scanned the skyline. "I don't see Storm Siren. Most of the others are young enough to be students who were probably at the conference, which means they’re probably still clear across town. I think... this might be on us."

He put his hands on top of the iron railing and hopped the fence.

"Oh, alright... but when this is over you owe me a quiet night out," Trinity said, following suit.

"Your logic is faulty," Jonathon said. He focused his vision down the street. Something was coming up the middle of the street. It was smaller than a dinosaur, but far bulkier than a man. There was an unmistakable commotion now on top of the massive footsteps. Cars were turning off the street, pulling u-turns, or just plain being abandoned as people scrambled to get out of its path. The other diners could not yet see what was happening, but were starting to get nervous just the same. "Hello... aren’t you a big fellow?"

"Is it one of mine or one of yours?" Trinity asked, slipping on a pair of dark shades. She studied the approaching figure... creature? It was a shiny black, very metallic. It was covered in some kind of heavy plates. There were six insect-like limbs protruding from around its back in addition to more conventional humanoid arms and legs. It had a horn on its head that looked something like a bottle opener and big mandibles like a stag beetle's. Now that she could see it, it looked like a robot or a suit of powered armor. "Looks like yours."

As they watched, the thing kicked a sedan out of its way, then picked up a van with four of the insect arms and crumpled it like an accordion. It let out an electronically amplified roar, with only the barest hint of a human voice behind it.

"I thought this town was supposed to be lousy with heroes!" the beetle-like figure shouted. "Who has the balls to face Carapace?"

"That's the difference between a demon and a supervillain," Trinity said. "The villains always want you to know their names."

"I suppose if it was a 'demon' you could make it disappear with a word if it told you... but yes, this is definitely technological," Jonathon said, surveying the massive black figure over the top of his glasses. "There's not enough of a signal coming from it for remote telemetry, so the pilot must be inside. The armor's too dense to get much of a reading, but there's a distinctly electromechanical signature leaking out from the joints where it's less insulated. Hmm... less insulated. Now there's an idea... keep it busy for a minute, won't you? I'll be right back."

Without waiting for a reply, Doctor Jonathon Day scrambled back over the fence and dashed into the dining room.

"Keep it busy, he says," Trinity said, looking dubiously down at her outfit. She sighed. "I just wanted one nice night out..."

She waved her hand down the front of her dress until its low-trailing diagonal hemline straightened and began to rise. She glared reproachfully when it stopped moving well below her knees and it quickly shortened to mid-thigh. Her stilettos widened as they shrank into slightly more sensible pumps. She looked about for something to use as a weapon. Her glance fell on the wrought iron fence that surrounded the patio dining area... or rather, on the shadow it cast on the pavement. She stooped down, seized the shadow of one of the spear-like bars with both hands, and ripped it free.

"Here's hoping one of my ancestors was a champion javelin thrower," she said ruefully, as the giant  mechsuit swaggered down the street.

Word of the rampage had not reached inside the restaurant, where the scene was much very much subdued... except for Jonathon sprinting across the floor towards the bar. Along the way, he bowled over a bus boy, grabbed a cloth napkin out of the hand of a startled gourmand, and leapt over a dessert trolley with indecipherable apologies.

He hit the brakes mere feet away from his destination and spun about to snatch a ring from a box in a kneeling gentleman's hands. He lifted his glasses and looked at it for only a moment before yelling "You cheap bastard!" and throwing it down at the stunned suitor's feet. In doing so, he spied the diamond stud in the man's ear and yanked it out. He shot an apologetic look at the man's dismayed would-be-fiancée-to-be and said "You can do so much better." before turning and vaulting over the bar.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the bartender asked as the eminent scientist grabbed a heavy bottle of grain alcohol, unscrewed the top with his teeth and stuffed the napkin down its neck.

"It's okay, I'm a doctor," Jonathon said, spitting out the bottle cap. He quickly popped the diamond out of its setting and then ran its corner along the edges and sides of the bottle, scoring the glass deeply. "Seems there's a rather nasty bug going around. Best keep indoors. Ta!"

Seconds later, he was back outside. Carapace's advance had come to a halt not far from the restaurant, where Trinity held his attention. Jonathon arrived just in time to watch her roll out of the way of a trio of spikes launched from his forearm. She returned fire by throwing a javelin of darkness that caught the villain in the shoulder.

"You seem to have things well in hand," Jonathon shouted, noting several of the black poles protruding from the villain's suit.

"So far, it's actually a bit of a draw," Trinity explained. She held one last shadow spear in her hand, which she used to bat at the winged drones that flew at her from the empty ports left by the spikes Carapace had launched. "If I make the shadows solid enough to do any real damage, they'll just glance off the armor."

Jonathon gave her a familiar skeptical look, as if to say "Then why bother?"

"You said to keep him busy," Trinity said. "I assume you have a plan."

"As a matter of fact, I thought I'd buy him a drink," Jonathon said, holding up the bottle. "But what's a novelty cocktail without an umbrella?"

"Parasol," Trinity corrected automatically as he picked up the implement in question from where she'd left it at their table. Carapace launched a foul-looking chemical glob from a cannon on his hand, but she stopped it with an outstretched hand and a conjured disk of darkness which swallowed it without a trace.

Jonathon put the bottle in the crook of the handle and stared over his lenses at the wick until it caught fire, then whipped the parasol in an overhead arc like an Aztec spear thrower, catapulting the flaming missile in a parabola calculated to terminate at the peak of Carapace's horned helmet.

The scarred glass shattered explosively on impact, raining liquid fire down upon the mammoth figure. Though the armor plates were fireproof, the alcohol trickled down the segmented armor, seeping into the joints where the softer materials melted and burned, damaging the integrity of the whole. The man inside the suit howled in rage and fear far more than pain as his mechanically assisted limbs beat at the flames with ever-decreasing power and dexterity.

Now that her foe had something to think about other than causing destruction, Trinity found herself with a clear space to think. She plunged her shadow-spear into the ground, still gripping the butt end with both hands. She closed her eyes and began to chant. All over the street, the shadows of street signs and power lines and lamp poles shook and stirred themselves to life. They slithered over the concrete, slinking towards a network of large cracks that had been tarred over. The shadows hesitated briefly at the edge of this black river, then plunged into it as one. Almost instantly, the tar began to bubble and rise out up from the pavement, swelling in size many times as it snaked towards the flame wreathed villain.

A tendril of tar begin wrapped around his leg, climbing eagerly towards the flames while more of the sticky blackness spread out beneath him, rooting him to the spot.

"That was probably overkill," Jonathon opined later, as they watched the 4B emergency crew cutting the badly shaken pilot out of the burnt out mess.

"Your little cocktail was already dying down," Trinity pointed out. "A few more seconds and it would have been out."

"Of course... I chose alcohol because it burned just hot enough to damage the internal systems but not hot enough or long enough to endanger the pilot or any bystanders. There's an eighty-seven percent chance the suit would have been too badly damaged to continue fighting," Jonathon said.

"Which leaves a thirteen percent chance it wouldn't have," Trinity said. "Call me superstitious."

"Superstition's right. Solid shadows," Jonathon said, shaking his head. "Do you have any idea how many laws of physics you broke tonight?"

"If you spend enough time in the darkness, you start to think of them as well-meaning suggestions," Trinity said. "And... it got the job done."

"Speaking of," Jonathon said, pulling a buzzing cell phone out of his pocket. He held up the LCD screen where Trinity could see it. The display read 000-000-0000. He flipped it open and spoke into it in hushed tones, cuppiong it protectively in his hands. "This is Agent Two. Powered armor? You don't say... yes, we're in the area. We took care of it... she's with me right now. In a bit of a mood over something, actually. Yes. Well, no. The Department showed up and took custody... I see."

He snapped the phone shut.

"I am not 'in a bit of a mood', you... ugh," Trinity said, snatching back the parasol he still carried. She frowned. "I'm surprised Zero was interested at all, though. Something like this seems beneath him... and he's usually more on top of things than that."

"Yes, well, if not for the weakness in the joints that armor would have been a potential city killer," Jonathon said. "I imagine he just wanted to make sure it didn't end up in anybody else's hands. In any event, it's 4B's concern now."

"I suppose," Trinity said, though the look on her face said otherwise. "So, before we were so rudely interrupted… I believe you were about to say something."

"Was I?" Jonathon asked. "You know once I'm faced with a problem to solve, everything else kind of flies out of my head. Was it about the conference? Because I have the most fascinating idea for a paper to present at next year's, if I can find somebody with the appropriate background in sociology to assist..."