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DC Futures Fan Fiction focuses on the future of the DC Universe. Characters in DCF are often the descendents and proteges of the modern-day DC characters, but they are original creations of the authors. Dr. Mid-Nite created by Charles Reizenstein & Stanley Asch.  Dr. Mid-Nite: DCF created by Schuyler Bush Zen Reaper created by Mich McNally ***** Dr. Mid-Nite: DCF "Darkness is my Ally" Chapter Three Written by Schuyler Bush ([email protected]) Edited by Jason Tippitt ***** The Honshu Metroplex is one of the world's largest  metropolises. The area's combined 2112 population exceeds 62  million. This population consists of the descendants of old  Japan, and the millions of people who immigrated to the island  after the "Great Troubles" of the early 21st century.     Volcanism, earthquakes, and other natural disasters drastically  changed the landscape and culture of Nippon in the 21st  century. Much of the industrial infrastructure in old Japan had  been built on landfill materials, from which artificial islands  were sometimes created. Because landfill materials can liquefy  during earthquakes, the many earthquakes that struck in the  late 20th and early 21st centuries caused tremendous destruction  in this densely populated area. Nearly two thirds of the  population were killed.     After the collapse of the old Japanese government, the island  became a refuge for political and social malcontents from  around the world. Millions of people settled in the ruins of  what had been Japan, and built a lawless, anarchistic society.  In 2075, Kyoto City and the UniGen corporation were founded in  the shadow of this chaos. By 2090, Kyoto City was casting the  shadows over the rest of Honshu, and was asked to join the UN. ***** Justice League Embassy New York City, NorAm Jonathon Bolander massaged his temples, hoping to rub away the  fatigue and aggravation. He was a warrior, not a bureaucrat.  Nevertheless, the League insisted that its squad leaders stay  informed about events that might affect them all. Thus was born  the endless stream of reports, memos, and analyses that flooded  his Telenet account on a daily basis, all of which Bolander had  to read and initial.      < And for some perverse reason, we still call it 'paperwork'.  As if it was still printed on plant fibers or something,  > the  man known to the world as Hourman thought to himself.      <It's not as if I don't have enough on my mind these days, what  with Lewis getting shot, and that damn "Wonder Woman"  incident…> (see recent issues of Suicide Squad: DCF and Sudden  Death for details about Hourman's troubles – Helpful Schuyler)     <Well, hating it doesn't make it go away any faster, and  Mentalist is probably watching right now through a Spy Eye, or  one of our telepaths. > Feeling more aggravated than usual with  the lack of privacy all Justice Leaguers lived with, he stuck  his tongue out at the nearest wall, hoping some technician was  monitoring him just then.      "Telescreen, display next message," he muttered, bringing his  eyes to focus on the screen in front of him. His exhaustion was  quickly forgotten when he saw the high-level security  encryption on the message. Patiently he waited while the  computer hidden in his desk bathed him with scanning beams to  confirm his identity and security clearance.     <Well, THAT'S interesting, > Bolander whistled in surprise as  he scanned the contents of the message. Apparently someone had  managed to break into the Justice League computer system and  access classified materials. The culprit was thought to have  recently been in Nippon, and was the prime suspect in a mass  murder there. Hourman's eyes fell on a colored hyperlink at the  bottom of the message. Its yellow icon indicated a potentially  related item. He waved his light pencil over the link, activating it.     Reading the next memo, Bolander almost dismissed it as a barely  related subject. Apparently there were unconfirmed reports of a  masked vigilante operating in Nippon. He opened his mouth to  tell the computer to delete the message when he noticed the  vigilante's name.     "Who the hell is Dr. Mid-Nite?" ***** Honshu Free Clinic Sterling Street, Iga Province "James, will you PLEASE stop channel surfing like that? You're  driving me crazy," Lt. Jacqueline Hasaki snapped. The two  friends were in one of the clinic's recreation lounges, along  with their other friend, Dr. Diego Siddig. James Baskon was  sprawled comfortably on one of the comfortable recliners, still  dressed in his expensive but rumpled pajamas even though it was  late afternoon. In one hand he held an old fashioned remote  control for the holo-wall, in the other was a half drunk  martini. His long red hair was pulled back in a sloppy  ponytail, and his aristocratic face was set in an expression of  frustrated boredom. Diego and Jackie shared one of the nearby  couches. Diego, as always, wore a doctor's lab-coat. His  thinning black hair was slowly turning gray at the temples, and  his dark features were beginning to show the marks of age and  worry.  Jackie, the youngest person in the room, looked slightly  out of place in her Honshu Metroplex Police Department uniform.  Her dark hair was cut severely short to accommodate the helmet  she wore while on duty, and at the moment her almond shaped  eyes were narrowed in aggravation at Baskon. The room was  tastefully decorated in cheerful (but not garish) colors.  Flowers from the clinic's rooftop greenhouse added color and  fragrance to the atmosphere. A high-resolution holo-screen took  up one wall, while the other walls were used to display artwork  from one of the Art-Therapy groups.      "Hey, I'm trying to find the No Rules Fighting championship.  James Marshall's going to be defending his title from that new  kid, Thaddeus Grant. Should be a good fight. Can't understand  why none of the networks are carrying it though, maybe it was  canceled?"     "Maybe he'll forfeit, and you can come out of retirement. The  Return of the Nippon Kid!" Diego said, with a teasing smile.     "Ha! There's a world of difference between collegiate free- boxing and the NRC championship," James Baskon replied.     "Oh you're too modest my friend. You were captain of the team,  AND you won the Eurasian Collegiate Finals your senior year."     "That was a long time ago Diego. A looonngg time ago."     "Hmph. That free-boxing crap wouldn't have done you much good  in the NAF (NorAm Armed Forces – the UN's military) combat  training courses.  And I'd like to see one of these No Rules  fighters get in a ring with drill sergeant from boot camp!"  Jackie interjected.     "Oh Gawd, not another boot camp story. Please, I beg you!" The  three friends all chuckled at that, and Jackie actually blushed.     "Okay, okay. No boot camp stories. By the way James, I meant to  ask you, how's Brian doing?"     "Well, he dumped me about a month ago. Said I was a good for  nothing lazy drunken wastrel who planned on doing nothing but  frittering his life away. Since he was absolutely right, that,  as they say, was that."     "Damn James, I'm sorry to hear that. I know how much you liked  him." Baskon merely shrugged, and pretended to watch whatever  program was displayed on the holo-wall.     "Uhm, well, how about you Diego? How are things here at the  clinic?" Jackie asked, deciding to change the subject.     "Well enough I suppose. We had a few cases of Nosferatis week  before last though, gave us a bit of a scare."     "Damn, not the Goth plague, that's the last thing we need!"     "Don't worry, the patients recovered completely, and no other  cases have been reported yet. Hopefully we stopped it before it  became a full fledged outbreak. Still, I'd feel more comfortable if we knew how the disease had cropped up again."     "You're telling me! I'm not too happy with the thought of  dealing with a bunch of half-crazed dying people who're trying  to eat everyone they meet," Jackie exclaimed. Diego could only  nod in agreement. The victims of Nosferatis became extremely  pale as the disease progressed, and the fever that came with it  drove them crazy. Huge amounts of adrenaline and endorphins  began flooding their bloodstream, and they invariably became  homicidal. Luckily the disease could be cured in its early  stages.     "Well, I'm sure you guys have everything under control. By the  way, thanks again for doing this autopsy for me. I know you  could get in a lot of trouble for it. Still, I'd feel better if  you'd done it yourself, instead of having your assistant do  it."     "It's my pleasure Jackie. After all, you've done quite a few  favors for us over the years. As for my assistant Greg, don't  worry. He's extremely skilled, and I trust him absolutely. And  I wouldn't worry about us getting into any trouble. The HMPD  can't touch us. The clinic may be privately funded," and Diego  gestured at James, and the billionaire grinned back. "But we  operate under a United Nations charter. Officially, the local  police have no jurisdiction here."     "Well, you two are just full of surprises. All these years I've  known you, and that little tidbit never came up. Any other  secrets I should know about?"     "Of course not Jackie. My ask you a personal question however?"     "I suppose…"     "Why the autopsy? No offense, but you've never seemed  interested in bucking the system before. Why so angry suddenly  at flesh-gangers going unpunished? Why is it so important to  track down whoever killed this girl?"     "It just is Diego. I have my reasons, okay?"     "Of course, I didn't mean to pry." The conversation was  interrupted at that point when Diego's assistant, Dr. Gregory  Hatsumi Lee, entered the room. The young man was dressed in a  lab-coat like Dr. Siddig's, with the exception that Lee's was  covered in blood. In one hand he held a data-comp, and on his  face he wore strange goggles, similar to the kind of eye wear  used for Virtual Reality.     "Niicceee spectacles Greg!" Baskon said, looking up at the  young intern.     "Thank you Mr. Baskon, I'm glad you like them," Lee answered  with a shy grin.     "Uhm boys, I don't want to be nosy, especially seeing as how  you're doing me a big favor and all, but aren't those NAF issue  sensor goggles? If I remember correctly, its illegal for  civilians to own or use them…" Jackie asked.     "Well, let's just say they were a 'gift' from an anonymous  donor," Diego answered with a small smile. "But come to think  of it Lt. Hasaki, those goggles only came into use last year,  well after you left the NAF and joined the police. How is it  you recognize them?"     "Ah well, I guess you busted me Diego. The truth is, I managed  to 'requisition' a case of them for the officers in my squad.  The HMPD maintains a few contacts with the NAF, especially my  boss, Commander Ross.  I won't tell if you don't."     "It's a deal Jackie. Now Greg, I'm assuming those are the  autopsy results you have?"     "Yes Dr. Siddig. I determined that the young woman was killed  two days ago, after being bound with a length of tarred rope.  The removal of most of her organs was done on board an older  military ship, probably a Chinese naval vessel, which most  likely was in Chiba Harbor at the time."     "Wow, I'm impressed Greg. How'd you figure all that out?"  Baskon asked, his expression of boredom changing to one of  intense interest.     "Using these sensor goggles, I was able to discover organic  fibers in the cuts on the girl's wrists. They were hemp fibers  covered in a petroleum derivative commonly known as tar. Hence  the tarred rope, which was commonly used on nautical vessels  until hemp products were largely replaced by Kevlar. Underneath  her nails and in some of her wounds, I found flakes of a  corroded metal alloy, which was exclusively used by the Chinese  military in the late 21st century for the construction of their  Navy. Hence my identification of the vessel. I also discovered  that her clothing and skin showed evidence of recent exposure  to a rare form of algae. That algae can only be found in our  Chiba Harbor here in Nippon."      "Again I say, 'Wow!' That's some damn fine detective work  Greg," Baskon replied, obvious respect for the doctor on his  face.     "I hope that was helpful Lt. Hasaki?" Greg asked Jackie.     "Very mush so Dr. Lee. I don't think I'll have too much trouble  tracking down an old rusty Chinese warship anchored in Chiba  Harbor! Gotta run boys!" And with that, Jackie stood up, fierce  determination in her eyes. ***** A dark alley across the street from the Honshu Free Clinic A man dressed in a wrinkled Keravin business suit sat on a  dumpster, watching the clinic with narrowed eyes. He'd been  there for quite some time now, observing the people that came  in and out of the clinic. He was feeling twitchy, and the  ground around him was littered with several packs worth of  cigarette butts. He kicked over a  crumpled food carton in  frustration.     <Damn, my contact AND my target are both inside there. What the  Hell's going on?  A double-cross maybe? This was supposed to be  a straight forward job. Just snatch and grab. Now this. Should  I just storm in and do the job? Or wait and see what's going  on? >     With a sigh the killer called Zen Reaper sat back down,  beginning a series of Tibetan calming techniques. After several  minutes of rhythmic breathing, he felt more clear-headed.     <No, I'll wait. Only an amateur goes into a situation without  fully understanding it. Besides, I'm getting paid by the day.  But I'm gonna need more smokes…>     On a nearby rooftop, another figure was watching the clinic,  and the Zen Reaper. Deadeye Dick had managed to track down the  vigilante known as Dr. Mid-Nite to this clinic, but the sight  of the man in the alley had stopped him for the moment. He  wasn't sure what was happening here. Like the other observer,  he settled in to wait.  ***** Honshu Metroplex Police Headquarters  Iga Province, Nippon Like an ancient samurai preparing for battle, Commander Nori  Ross pulled on his gloves. Picking an imaginary piece of lint  from his dress uniform, he gave his small, spartan office a  final visual check, then decided that his battlefield was as  ready as it would ever be. He pressed the intercom button on  his desk terminal and spoke in the calm authoritative voice he  reserved for these occasions.     "Please ask the Daimyo to come in."     The door opened with a quiet hiss, and two men entered. The  first was the Daimyo called Jade Monkey, of the Iga Province  Bouryokudan (gangster organization). Jade Monkey was a short  man in his late sixties. Despite his age, the Gen'aku (head  gangster) was a vigorous man who had stayed in excellent shape.  His squat frame was still sheathed in powerful muscles that  stretched his expensive black suit. Like Ross, he was also one  of those rare people in Nippon who could claim to be of purely  Japanese descent.     Behind him came one of his gunjin. The gunman took a position  next to the door and stared straight ahead, effectively  imitating an inanimate object. Ross noted the fact that the  soldier's pinky finger on his left hand was missing the last  joint. This was a common practice among the criminal  organizations in Nippon, and it dated back to ancient times. It  signified a bond of duty and loyalty to the head of his  Bouryokudan.     Ross gestured towards the chair opposite his desk, inviting the  Daimyo to sit down. The Commander then poured sake from an  electric pot on his desk. He set one cup in front of the  Gen'aku, and one in front of himself. Jade Monkey raised an  eyebrow, recognizing the sakazuki ritual. This ancient practice  was performed to define the relative social status when two  people met. The two cups were both filled  to the rims with  warm rice wine, a declaration that Ross considered  them to be  social equals. The Daimyo frowned at this, but drank the sake  down in one gulp, tacitly accepting Ross as an equal. The  Commander drank without expression, but inside the sake and a  sense of having scored the first victory warmed him.     "How may I assist you today Daimyo?" Ross asked in a calm,  neutral voice. The Gen'aku seemed to hesitate for a moment  before answering.      "As you are no doubt aware Commander, my organization has been  plagued by…certain troubles over the last month," Ross gave a  small nod of acknowledgement and waited for Jade Monkey to  continue. The Daimyo cleared his throat, obviously  uncomfortable with discussing the topic with an outsider. "I  would consider it a great…favor…if your department would form a  task force to deal with this masked vigilante who has been  hounding my operations."     Ross, leaned back in his chair, carefully keeping an expression  of astonishment of his face. The Bouryokudans of Nippon NEVER  went to the police for help. This was a rare opportunity, and  one that had to be handled with great care.     "I assume you're talking about this…Dr. mid-Nite character?"     "Yes, that is the name he has given my gunjin. Apparently the  arrogant dog wishes to be a 'superhero', like the ones in  NorAm."     "Yes well, be that as it may, I'm not sure the department  SHOULD form a task force to deal with this…person." Jade  Monkey's face flushed with anger, but before he could open his  mouth to speak, Ross continued. "Please, if I might explain?  How would it look to the other Daimyos if the police were to  help you in such an obvious fashion? It might be seen as a sign  of…weakness. I don't think that's something you can afford  right now. However, there might be something less obvious we  can do."     "You raise a good point Commander. What do you propose?"     "Simply that I 'unofficially' alert my officers to arrest this  Dr. Mid-Nite. When that happens, we turn him over to you. All  off the official record of course." The Daimyo smiled, stood up  and bowed to Ross.     "You have a fine grasp of tactics Commander. My organization is  in debt to you. Would you ever consider coming to work for me?  You would be a valuable asset."      "Thank you for the offer Daimyo, but no. I'm afraid my life is  devoted to civil service," Ross replied, then stood up and  returned the Daimyo's bow.     "Well then, if you ever change your mind the offer remains  open. We will leave you to your work now Commander," with that  Jade Monkey gestured to his gunjin and the two left the office.  Ross sat back down, and with a sigh of relief, removed his  uniform gloves. The meeting had gone far better than he'd  expected. He mulled over the possibilities it had presented,  and rubbed the scarred stump of his left pinky finger, which  was missing the last joint. ***** Chiba Harbor, Nippon Night had fallen on Nippon, obscuring the jumbled skyline of  crumbling buildings in a merciful  shroud of darkness. In the  distance, the glowing force fields that protected Kyoto City  from the rest of Honshu Island lit up the sky. Behind Kyoto  City, the once proud peak of Mount Fuji could just barely be  glimpsed. In Chiba Harbor several rusting hulks sat at  permanent anchor. Once they had been proud ships that commanded  the oceans of the world. Now they merely floated in place,  slowly corroding away, reminders of a by-gone age of commerce  when the seas had been the gateways to power.     On the deck of one of these grand old ladies of the sea, Dr.  Mid-Nite stood up, an unconscious flesh-ganger at his feet. The  other guards who had been patrolling the deck of the decrepit  naval vessel were already asleep, victims of the sleeping gas  form Dr. Mid-Nite's multi-gun. With the last sentry taken care  of, he approached a nearby porthole. Overhead his robotic ally,  the artificial owl named Hooty, kept watch, ever vigilant.     Peering into the porthole, Dr. Mid-Nite saw a scene that made  his blood boil. In what had once been a cargo hold, several  crude bunks had been arranged. On these beds were eviscerated  bodies, obviously members of the Eta caste, barely kept alive  by the complex life support systems they were attached to. All  of the victims were missing various limbs, and several seemed  to be lacking crucial internal organs. They all wore blissful,  almost ecstatic expressions, no doubt supplied by the  intravenous drips that fed into their veins. None of them  appeared to be older than their early teens. Most were far  younger. Having seen enough, Dr. Mid-Nite prepared for his  assault.     Inside, the ship's owner and operator, a chop-doc known as  Waldorf Toorima, walked amongst his 'patients', checking the  various readouts displayed on their bio-monitors. He was an  elderly man, with a kind, almost grandfatherly appearance. A  warm gentle smile was on his face as he increased the flow of  an IV here, or softly caressed a fevered forehead there.  He  spoke to the people in the bunks in a sing-song, crooning  voice, the sort that one uses to comfort a newborn child.  Behind him, two strange figures followed him on his rounds. The  first was a tall, almost skeletally thin man who had a grayish  brown, downy, feathery covering over his entire body. He held a  shinai, a bamboo practice sword used in Kendo, loosely in one  hand. His only garment was a simple loincloth. His companion  was a powerfully built woman, whose skin had a greenish,  leathery look to it. She wore a brightly colored kimono with  stylized dragons that ran rampant across the garment.      "So Kenku, what do you think of my children?" Toorima asked the  feathery bird-man.     "I try not to," was the quiet response. The brutish looking  lizard woman next to him laughed. Toorima glanced at her  sharply, his eyes blazing with fury.     "My children are no laughing matter Madamukora. Until you and  Kenku have paid your debt to me for your bio-enhancements, you  would do well to remember that"     "Walter Toorima, I am sure that Madamukora meant no disrespect.  We are your humble servants until that time that are debts are  paid in full," Kenku replied with a deep bow.     "My apologies Kenku, and Madamukora. It's just that I'm very  sensitive when it comes to my children. After all, if not for  me, who would care for them? The world has cast them aside to  starve and suffer. I take them in, and give their lives  meaning. They spend their last days on earth in pure ecstasy,  with the knowledge that their lives will go towards making  others healthy and happy. I ask you, what greater gift could I  give them?"      An outburst of rude laughter disturbed the conversation at that  point. Toorima glared at the source of this interruption. Three  members of the flesh-gang called the Lounge Lizards were  huddled in a corner of the room, playing Mahjong. Apparently  someone had just had a stroke of luck and was loudly gloating  over his victory. Toorima seethed inside, hating the presence  of these yotamonos.  In his mind they were nothing more than  simple hooligans; layabouts, good-for-nothing thugs. But they  worked for the Daimyo, and he had insisted that all of his  operations needed stronger security. So the chop-doc tolerated  their presence, but just barely.  He opened his mouth to tell  them once again to be quiet, when mayhem broke out.     The large steel door that the Lounge Lizards were squatting in  front of burst open with an ear-shattering shriek. Torn  violently from its hinges, the massive door collapsed right on  top of the stunned flesh-gangers with bone breaking force. The  proud figure of Dr. Mid-Nite stood in the exposed doorway as he  took the situation in at a glance. Tumbling into the macabre  torture chamber of Walter Toorima, Dr. Mid-Nite shot off a  number of gas pellets from his bulky multi-gun.     Kenku and Madamukora shoved Toorima behind them, facing the  trench-coated vigilante. Toorima began coughing as the clouds  of gas filled the room, then he slumped over one of the bunks,  unconscious. A frown crossed Mid-Nite's face when he realized  the two bodyguards weren't succumbing to the sleep-gas. His  frown was met by a pair of toothy grins as the two bio-enhanced  mercenaries saw his consternation. Kenku began spinning his  shinai, and Madamukora dropped into a Sumo fighting stance.      "Well, well. Looks like we're gonna get to earn our pay finally  Kora," the gaunt bird-man chuckled.     "Ha, he don't look so tough to me. Let's see how he does  against something a bit tougher than some pissant flesh- gangers." Suddenly, faster than the human eye could follow, Dr.  Mid-Nite leapt at Kenku. Unfortunately for the Honshu Avenger,  Kenku was no longer entirely human.  With blinding grace, the  avian assassin spun away from Mid-Nite's leap, striking a  glancing blow with his shinai to the base of Mid-Nite's neck.  The vigilante managed to control his leap, despite the pain  shooting through his entire body. He rolled to a stop near a  bulkhead and came up in a fighting stance, obvious pain etched  on his face.     <Damn, he's a hell of a lot faster than me, and probably a  better fighter.  Maybe I'll have better luck with the other  one,> Dr. Mid-Nite thought through the fog of agony that the  one blow had caused. His lower limbs felt like jelly, and his  arms shook uncontrollably. He knew that he'd been struck in a  vital nerve cluster, and that his nervous system was in a state  of shock.     "You're fast boy, no doubt about it. Not exactly Flash Corp  material, but you're pretty fast," Kenku mocked.  Dr. Mid-Nite  didn't answer, but rather leapt again, this time straight at  Madamukora.  The slower moving lizard-woman didn't bother  trying to dodge, instead she took Mid-Nite's attack head on.  A  flying kick, similar to the one hat had destroyed the cargo  hold's armored door with ease, crashed into her stomach. Her  only reply was a grunt, as Dr. Mid-Nite  practically bounced  off of her. Madamukora lashed out then, but Mid-Nite easily  rolled out of the way. The bulkhead behind him wasn't as  fortunate.  It crumpled like cloth beneath the force of  Madamukora's blow.      A feeling of cold dread gripped at Dr. Mid-Nite as he realized  that this was a fight he might not win. Steeling himself for  the battle to come, Mid-Nite reached into one of the inner  pockets of his dark green trench-coat, and pulled out a small  capsule. He flung the marble sized pellet at Madamukora, and it  shattered in her face. A silvery liquid spilled over her eyes,  and the brutish woman howled with pain as she felt her eyes  shatter like glass. The quicksilver substance was a cryogenic  chemical even colder than liquid nitrogen. Where it came into  contact with Madamukora's cornea, the liquid in those cells  froze so rapidly that they shattered the cell walls like cheap  glass.     The howling woman desperately tried to hold the splinters of  her eyes in place as Dr. Mid-Nite flung himself at Kenku once  again. But the feathered swordsman was too fast to be taken  unawares. Once again he dodged Mid-Nite's attack, and again he  stabbed out with his bamboo sword. This time he caught Dr. Mid- Nite underneath his armpit, in a fleshy, vulnerable spot.  Mid- Nite felt his entire left side go numb, and fell to the floor  in a heap. A huge fist crashed into the side of his head as  Madamukora lashed out blindly.  Blow after blow began raining  down in him from his two assailants. Dr. Mid-Nite drew his  wrist-com in front of his mouth and barked out in a voice  flushed with pain,      "Hooty! 911! I repeat! 911!" ***** In a dark room at the Honshu Free Clinic, a red light on a  computer console began flashing repeatedly. ***** To Be Continued ***** Next issue; We really do find out who Dr. Mid-Nite is! No really… It's also the end of the first Dr. Mid-Nite mini-series! The DCFutures FanFiction Group recognizes that Dr. Mid-Nite and all related characters are property of DC Comics. These stories are written for no profit, but rather a strong desire to peer into the future of the DCU. The stories and concepts presented herein, however, are property of the author. So there. This DC Futures story is © 1999 by .