Standing on the cornice of a Twistville rooftop, Diana had been waiting for the phone in her hand to ring. When it did, it was open and up to her ear so fast the ringtone Doppler shifted.
“You’re the devil,” Diana said.
“Who told you?” Zero asked.
“I’m serious,” Diana said. “Either that, or you’re a reality show producer.”
“I believe I’ve just been insulted.”
“Why else would you keep me kicking around the harbor just to ride herd on my ex to make sure he keeps going back to the new woman in his life?” she asked.
“I told you, dear one: because the fate of the world is in the balance,” Zero said.
“I had an easier time taking that seriously before I knew you had an overweight pop starlet on the payroll.”
“That’s a ridiculous exaggeration,” Zero said smoothly. “I never pay any of you.”
“Why her?”
“I need her,” Zero said. “It might surprise you, Number Seven, but I didn’t actually call you so that you could question my methodology.”
“I’m sure she’s the best there is at what she does,” Diana said. “I’m just not sure what that is.”
“She turns into a cat.”
“I saw,” Diana said. “So?”
“You don’t get to ’so’ me.”
“I just did,” Diana said. “As you pointed out, you don’t pay us but you do need us… so either assuage my bruised ego, or I dropkick this phone across Thirty-Seventh Street. I hate carrying the damned thing around, anyway. The extra weight on one side throws off my balance. So, tell me: why her?”
“Pettiness is an ugly color on you, Diana,” Zero said. “Though you’ve never let aesthetic concerns influence you when it comes to colors. Isn’t not being spotted the whole point of being a ninja?”
“I’m not a ninja, thank you very much,” Diana said. “And dressing up like a tropical bird makes it less likely that I’ll be recognized when I go out in street clothes… or noticed when I do dress for stealth.”
“When exactly is that?”
“If you’ve never noticed, then I’m doing it right… and don’t think I didn’t notice the change of subject.”
“Nothing gets past your keen ninja senses,” Zero said. “Of course, the other reason you dress so outrageously… as well as the reason you use that ridiculous nickname… is to make your opponents more likely to underestimate the threat you pose, something they are already somewhat inclined to do as you are a woman.”
“You’re not telling me anything new,” Diana said.
“How much more likely would they be to underestimate you if you were a housecat?”
“Would that really be underestimation, though?” Diana asked. “How dangerous could a housecat be?”
“Precisely,” Zero said. “That is why I need her.”
“Why did you call?”
“You seemed certain I would.”
“Only because I’m annoyed with you and you always call when I’m annoyed with you,” Diana said. “Further evidence that you are, in fact, the devil.”
“Just so long as I’m not a reality show producer,” Zero said. “I have an assignment for you.”
“A real one?”
“As with all things, it depends on how you define reality,” Zero said. “This one is not quite as critical as the other little jobs you’ve been doing, but you should find it a bit more challenging all the same. How do you feel about getting your hands dirty for me?”
“You know my rules about killing,” Diana said.
“Who said anything about that?” Zero said. “I’m afraid I was talking about politics.”
“‘Bishop’, huh?” Broker said into his office phone. “I’ve had two alerts about an Officer… ’scuse me, a Detective Lieutenant Bishop down Nebula way, but I don’t think that’s who you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, I don’t, either. Hey, listen, Bro… ker,” Ray said, “the other reason I’m calling is… well… have you heard anything about any new arrivals in town?”
He was using Perfect’s kitchen phone, as he still wasn’t completely comfortable with talking on the miniaturized and gadgetized phone she’d created for him, concealed in the folds of a bandana. As the landline phone was on the wall right next to the basement door, he wasn’t completely comfortable using it, either… he could hear Perfect’s muffled voice babbling away down in her lab. It was just possible that Dani or Adonis was down there with her, but he doubted it… and that meant she was talking to her stuffed rabbit again.
“Why, have you heard something?” Broker asked.
“I’m just wondering who’s going to be the next in the parade of exes to come bouncing around,” he said. “It’s like there’s a convention. First Pam, then Diana, and now Willow.”
“Pussywillow’s in town?” Broker asked. “Now that announcement makes a little more… okay, it still doesn’t make any sense. But her involvement explains that.”
“Galerie Awesome?” Ray asked.
“Galerie Awesome,” Broker said. “‘Dedicated to the promotion of art that is better than you.’ She’ll probably lock the door on opening night and sneer at everybody from the second floor window.”
“Probably.”
“While we’re on the subject… Pummella’s still here,” Broker said. “She came by the bar today.”
“I’m surprised she’d hang… wait, today?” Ray asked. “As in, in daylight? During business hours?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you do?”
“I told her we were all big fans of the show and had her sign a picture to put up on the wall,” Broker said. “What was I supposed to do? Say ‘Excuse me, Ms. Superhero, but could you please not visit my secret superhero bar outside of secret superhero hours?’ There were reporters following her. I don’t know what the hell she was thinking. She was fishing for your sidekick’s number, too.”
“Oh, that’s perfect,” Ray said, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, I know her name, jackass,” Broker said. “By the way, I want to know what the two of them did that got Elfmaid so riled up.”
“What? Hey, I didn’t have anything to do with that,” Ray said. “I haven’t seen or spoken to Avalla in years… though, the way things are going, I guess she’d probably be next in the line-up, wouldn’t she?”
“Next time you run into the bird woman, see if she’ll go talk to her,” Broker said. “Woman scorned to woman scorned.”
“Funny.”
“I’m serious,” Broker said. “A no-questions-asked healer who’s better than a hospital. That’s not the kind of resource I want to see slip away.”
“‘Resource’. You’re all heart.”
“Human resource,” Broker said.
“If she heard you calling her that, she’d put an arrow in your heart.”
“Parahuman, then.”
“I think she’s one of the ones who prefers ‘posthuman’,” Ray said.
“Christ. Didn’t anybody tell those lunatics that the meek are supposed to inherit the earth?”
“The meek don’t have superpowers,” Ray said. “Anyway, she’s no supremacist. She’s just a bitch.”
“A bitch with a healing aura. I’m serious, Vallenzio… I want her back.”
“Why is that my problem?”
“Because two of your mistakes pissed her off in the first place,” Broker said. He sighed. “I don’t think there’s anything to be done, honestly, but you know her better than anyone.”
“Knew her,” Ray corrected.
“Just try, okay?”
“Fine,” Ray said.
“Great,” Broker said. “I’ll run this Bishop thing and find out what I can find out. Hey, did you ever consider that it might be an actual…”
“Yes, we did,” Ray said. “Keep us posted, okay?”
“Will do. Talk to you later.”
“Later,” Ray echoed, and then they hung up.
“Who was that?” Perfect asked, coming up from the basement and letting her hair down now that she was done working in the lab.
“Broker,” Ray said. “Just passing on the new info.”
“Sounded like a longer conversation than that,” Perfect said.
“You weren’t listening, were you?”
“No, but you were right by the door,” Perfect said. “Anyway, I’ve got a batch of blackout dye going now, and I’ve started turning the cloth sample Dock Shadow gave me into a costume.”
Ray didn’t exactly have the best poker face in the world. His expression betrayed him horribly as he contemplated what kind of costume she could have made from such a small piece of cloth.
“Not for me, stupid… butt,” Perfect said. “For Mr. Buttons.”
“Uh…”
“I know he isn’t real,” Perfect said. “I mean, he’s a real, actual stuffed bunny, but he isn’t… anyway, I thought it might help forestall more questions about why the Black Rabbit’s mascot isn’t black, and if somebody happened to get a picture, it might give me some plausible deniability. That’s why superheroes wear costumes, right? To protect the people in their lives?”
“Mr. Buttons is a superhero now?” Ray asked, raising a non-existent eyebrow.
“Lots of people talk to their pets,” Perfect said. “Do you think that’s crazy? Though, actually, there is growing evidence that canines can learn to understand actual words and not just posture and tone, as is often claimed, so I guess it’s possible that talking to pets is less crazy… not that I’m crazy, literally, clinically… but in the colloquial sense, if you were going to regard…”
“Perfect, I don’t care,” Ray said. “Okay? I threw two women out of my apartment today who are both crazier than you are. Well, only one, literally.”
“Literally crazy?”
“Literally threw,” Ray said. “But it’s okay. She was a cat at the time, so I’m pretty sure she landed on her feet. The fact that that sentence came out of my mouth should be a pretty good indicator of how little I should care that you talk to a stuffed toy. I might give you a weird look sometimes… I don’t mean to, but I can’t help it. It is weird. But I live in Twistville. Weird doesn’t bother me.”
“That’s good to know,” Perfect said. “Because I kind of wanted to get out of the lab for a bit, and I was thinking of a walk in the park. Do you fancy meeting the Harbor Hill Ghost?”
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