Back with the story! Sorry, had some things to catch up on.
Jay belongs to Disney Channel. Now with the story...
"We have to do what?" I asked DJ as we headed down Callowhill Street.
We'd taken a bus to reach the area Tails had pointed out – the Old City, which held most of Philly's tourist attractions. I hadn't been psyched about going there – not because of crime, mind you, but because it would be an extra-long bus ride back home. But Tails had told DJ to go there to meet Jay, so that's where we were going.
DJ had been the one asked, yes, but she could take one other person with her, and she'd chosen me because I was the least likely to blow something up for fun. (The other two hadn't been happy about that.) She'd just given me a briefing on the errand she'd been requested for, and I wasn't psyched to hear what it was. It certainly wasn't the way I wanted to spend my Sunday early morning.
"Jay wants us to retrieve some relic," she repeated again. "Apparently someone stole it, and he wants it in the right place. But he can't go in to get it himself."
"It's still stealing no matter how you spin it," I muttered. "And why can't he–?"
"Maybe I should let him tell us."
I didn't like the sound of that. So, naturally, I changed the subject.
"Nice widgets," I said, tapping the device that was on my wrist. Vinny Lee and Imira had grabbed their respective wristbands and clipped their gadgets on them, but DJ had clipped hers directly to the waistband of her skirt. "I mean, why didn't you take up a wristband, DJ? The skirt doesn't seem like the best place to hook it. Why not put it on your wrist?"
"And risk the Forcecuff shorting it out?" she retorted.
"Good point." I glanced at the device on my wrist, sizing up the speaker and buttons. The arrangement reminded me of a walkie-talkie – or some other unit. "Honestly, I feel like James Bond with this thing. Seems more appropriate to put it on a wristband. More like a smart watch." I pressed the blue button and said in a Tim Allen impression, "Buzz Lightyear to Star Command, come in, Star Command."
I wasn't expecting any reaction from DJ (she's used to me goofing around), but she jumped like I'd just dropped a bug down her leotard. (Which, for the record, I only did one time.) "Hey, what–" She yanked the device off her waistband and held it gingerly in her hand, as if it were radioactive. "Did it just–"
"Is something wrong?" I asked.
She then frowned as if getting an idea. "Amos, try that again. Without the Buzz Lightyear impression, perhaps."
I pressed the blue button and intoned into the speaker: "Buzz Lightyear to Star Command, come–" I paused at come, because I could have sworn I heard an echo from the blue device in DJ's hand.
DJ craned her neck as if thinking, interesting. "It's coming out of mine!"
"What do you suspect?" I asked her. Kind of stupid to ask when I was getting an idea of what Tails had given us, but I needed to confirm my suspicions. Besides, I usually default to DJ, since her instincts are better than mine.
"These must be communication devices!" DJ said after a moment. Her voice was excited, something she usually didn't show around any of us. "The colored buttons are channels! They're color-coded! Dang, why didn't Tails just straight up tell us? Imira's been hassling him about it since Norgate!"
An idea occurred to me. "We should get a code! Like real secret agents would."
DJ laughed. "Yeah, sure."
"I wasn't joking. These seem kinda exposed for comm units. And I'd rather make it as difficult as possible to eavesdrop."
DJ weighed the remark. "We'll start with codenames," she said.
"Royal!" I shouted.
"Royal?"
"Royal blue?" I pointed toward her device. "Your Comclip is that color. And, well, you're the leader… royalty?"
DJ frowned. "What?"
"Because you're the–"
"No, before that. What did you call the widget?"
"Comclip. It's a comm device on a clip."
"Eh. Has a nice ring to it. So does Royal. How about you?"
I glanced at the pink device in my hand. What was a less girly term for the color? Aha.
"I'm going with Rose," I said. "After my avatar pal."
"Nice choice," said a voice behind us.
FYI, talking behind somebody is a great way to get them to simultaneously spin and leap in the air, which is what we did. And this was probably the second time this morning I'd landed on my butt. I really needed to get out of the habit.
"Jay Alraj!" DJ yelped.
Jay emerged from behind the wall, coming up Broad Street. He cut quite the figure – his shoulder-length brown hair streaming under a red beanie, a yellow and maroon vest showing off his muscular arms, together with skinny blue jeans and black combat boots which reflected the same survivor vibe as Ash's own pair. The key difference – an oil lamp, like you might find in a Middle Eastern market, was hooked to his belt. The lamp actually morphed into a snake staff – like the one his in-universe counterpart's father used, but much more powerful. He'd actually pranked us with it a few times, getting us to stand on our heads with a little suggestion.
"I suppose this is the part where you tell us what you want us to steal?" I asked, picking myself up off the asphalt. "Another question – how long is this going to take? We'll have to study for school tomorrow, you know."
Jay grabbed something out of his pack. It looked like a huge pearl, or one of those communication orbs from the 2012 TMNT series. "The Oracle Pearl," he said softly. "Answers any question. Of course, you each get one question. So make yours good ones."
"Why can't–" I cut off before the question got asked – partly because it didn't seem like a good question to ask the orb, partly because I didn't want to sound like a whiner.
DJ walked up and whispered into the orb, "What relic are we looking for?"
The orb began to glow. I half expected something grandiose, like a being popping out of the orb to answer the question. Instead, it shimmered and spat a holographic image up, something that looked like…
"A censer," DJ blurted out.
"Excuse me?" I demanded, because it sounded a lot like something else that I disliked.
"It's for incense," DJ clarified. "You burn incense in it. I'd call it a thurible, but from the look of it, censer seems more appropriate."
It did look pretty ancient. It appeared to be forged from pure gold, with designs that might've once been angels, but were lost in the image. I caught some stains from a different time, but then the orb acted in a different way, sending up a scent.
Not an unpleasant one, mind you. This was more like what DJ was talking about – a whiff of frankincense and something else. This was ancient, clearly meant for–
"The censer of Aaron," Jay said in a hushed voice.
I couldn't help it. "Get out!" I yelled. "For realsies?"
"It was the original censer used by the high priest Aaron for the offerings," Jay continued. Then he registered me. "Good choice, bringing a Jew along. He'd recognize it quickly."
"Jay." DJ's voice was firm, reminding him that she hadn't chosen me because I might recognize it. Or because of my ethnicity. She never judged along that line – unlike the thugs from this morning – which I liked about her.
Speaking of this morning…
"Were you planning to put Ash on the mission?" I asked. (Thankfully, the orb did not react. It must've sensed I was talking to Jay and not it.) "Or did something change your mind? Perhaps some violent tendencies?"
"Ash?" DJ inquired. "Evil Dead, last name Williams, chainsaw for a hand – that Ash?"
"No, Ash Ketchum from Pokémon. Of course, Ash Williams!"
"Is that the novice who saved your butt this morning? I didn't recall him being in the original crowd from the start of the summer."
"Wait, this morning?" Jay asked, and I realized he hadn't been informed about the missile strike yesterday or my recent near mugging.
"Back to the censer," I said, leaning toward Jay. I really did not feel like going into the morning's peril or the missile strike, certainly not with the way Ash and Tails were handling the news. "Where is it now?"
Only then did I realize that I'd asked a question while standing next to the orb.
The thing swirled again and spat out another image – a rebus, with the numbers 325 followed by a big 13.
"It's an address," DJ interpreted. "Three-Two-Five Thirteenth Street."
"Thirteenth Street?" I said warily. I hoped the street name wasn't an omen.
"Sonder the Heid's on this address," she said, frowning at Jay. "You really want us to break into a hotel?"
"Well, your boy used up the orb, so I guess I'll just tell you," he replied with a tone that said, it was fun while it lasted. "Third floor. Should be easy to access once you reach the balcony. The guy in that room has the censer. But he's a real shady and treacherous type."
"Sounds like most of the humans we've faced," I quipped, remembering the GABAFFS and Norgate incidents in particular. "What's his name?"
Jay paused. "His name is Patrick Starr."
I didn't dare laugh, but all I could think of was the dopey starfish from SpongeBob SquarePants. I wondered how the guy was taken seriously with a name like that – and was surprised he hadn't legally changed it yet.
"Patrick Starr," I repeated.
"Only the most in-demand forger and creator of fakes. Pottery, jewels, manuscripts – you name it, he copies it. He's aided a lot of petty thieves in replacing precious works of art – of course, he can't get past me. My powers allow me to sniff 'em out."
"I'd imagine." Jay's power was Morphis, a minor extension of Tails's shapeshifting power that allowed him to take on the qualities of whatever he touched – like Number Five from Lorien Legacies. But the kicker came when he found relics – he could use the Morphis to access their powers. This taken with his love of fine things gave him a real sense for when relics were nearby.
"So, we go into his room," DJ said. "We find the relic, grab it, and go. Without getting caught."
"Check."
"Why can't Ash go?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. Even a senior avatar was likely to get noticed poking around Starr's room (again, they're pretty distinct), and just from this morning, Ash seemed rather trigger happy. Then again, most novice avatars were like that.
"One: he wasn't interested, and he's been such a pain in the neck to mentor that I didn't bother arguing the point. Two: Starr's music tastes… leave a lot to be desired."
"Great." I braced myself for death metal or polka or even hip-hop. "But why us?"
"You're VLADJIs, you won't be noticed easily, and you won't wind up magically switching Starr's men's magazines with Mortal Instruments novels."
"Do I want to know?" DJ asked. I sure didn't, so naturally, I asked another question.
"How do we know if it's the real censer?" I asked. "If this guy's a forger…"
"Glad you think of every possibility, Amos," Jay said dryly. "The true censer emits a glow and scent that can only be noticed by one with true sight. Such as yourselves."
"Nice," I replied. "Just sniff and look around."
"On top of that–" Jay bit his lip. "I've been hearing rumors that Starr's involved in a lot worse than counterfeiting. Just… be careful."
"Roger that," I said.
With that, Jay disappeared around the bend.
"So," DJ said, "onward?"
I hated myself for suggesting it, but since an avatar had commissioned us, there was nothing left to do but go forward with it. Besides, if Starr duplicated that thing… I didn't even want to think about the consequences of that. People in DJ's church were punished for selling sacred items. I was not anxious for one of my people's relics to be desecrated like that.
"Onward," I muttered.
Well, where's this going to take them?
Verse for the update: Ecclesiastes 4:5-6. Stay tuned!
