His world gained another facet, one where mysterious secret agents really did dance for the downtrodden, where the desperate really could see a hero swoop to their rescue -- it was true.

 

          And as Stewart returned his Agent badge to hiding, as Phoenix searched for words, hands fell light on his and Maya's shoulders.

          "Come on," Stella said, smiling, "We've got a lot to show you."

         

          The detention center's chill gave way to shaded alleys, a maze of piled garbage to avoid and Stella's dark fall of hair to keep in sight. And she stopped suddenly, dug in her purse and found something that chirped dully. The space before her responded, shimmering, reforming -- a chrome-gleaming car hid in plain sight.

          "Just like in the movies," Maya hissed, tapping excitedly at his elbow.

          Circling to the driver's side, Stella shot a smirk at them. "You wouldn't believe what a little ion technology can do."

          True, Phoenix thought with a smile -- he probably wouldn't.

 

          The seats creaked soft, and the engine growled to life with Stella's turned key; the now-familiar star insignia at the steering wheel's center drew Phoenix's gaze, magnetic.

          "So, Stella--"

          "Agent Starr, here," she corrected, and produced her own badge to flip open -- code number and a flash of gold badge. And, glancing warm to him, "Just call me Starr."

          "I told you, Nick," Maya chirped from the back seat.

          Two Agents, then -- all the more for his thoughts to absorb. "So ... Starr," Phoenix tried, "Can you tell us what's going on, now?"

          She nodded, and turned the car onto a side street. "We're going to the nearest Agency base, Mr. Wright, there's plenty you'll need to know if you're going to help us. As for J's story? He was on patrol duty this morning and helped a lady being mugged, most likely the same lady who was killed. Moments later, he sensed someone else lacking rhythm -- don't worry, we'll explain all that--"

          He hadn't thought his bafflement showed so plainly; Phoenix tried smoothing his face into something studious.

          "--And that was when he threw off the shades and his microphone. Oh, did you find the microphone?"

          They should have searched more carefully: any other evidence hidden by that path would surely be in police custody now, the opportunity lost. "No," Phoenix said, "We didn't. I'm sorry."

          A grimace washing brief over her face, Starr went on, "Anyway, that was when he ran from the park, into the alley. Whatever he was chasing disappeared and that was when the police caught him."

          "Disappeared?" Maya leaned in between them.

          "I'll let the Commander explain our theory on that." Starr sighed, and flicked dark hair out of her eyes. "You've got a challenge on your hands, Mr. Wright. We'll help you, any way we can, but ... it's still going to be a trick to pull off."

 

 

          Phoenix wasn't sure what he was expecting -- a large base, maybe, something glass-and-steel sleek -- but the car purred to a stop outside the worn grey of an office building. Car doors' thump resounded in the empty lot, off the soot-dark walls fencing it. He looked around, up to the shard of blue sky -- not especially impressive as a destination, but the Agents were good at staying out of sight, after all. He rounded the car's gleaming hood and let his female friends take lead.

          "So, is there a cool secret agent entrance?" Maya followed close at Starr's heels, sparkling bright. "DNA test? A retina scanner? Do we get to backflip through laser beams?"

          Coming to a door, one as dingy as the rest of the building and sporting a worn numberpad above its knob, Starr smiled warm at Maya. "Sorry, nothing that interesting."

          "Oh."  She watched Starr's fingers flurry over the digits, a clicking tune. "That's not very dramatic."

           Opening the creaking door, Starr ushered them in with a waved hand. "Well, technology is all about picking your battles."

          And Maya's free time seemed to be all about renting her movies. Phoenix paused in the dim hallway -- Starr looked around, wary duty on her face and breeze stirring her blouse's ruffles, before letting the door groan-click closed. Secrets always forced people to watch their backs.

          "Welcome to Elite Beat Agency base Alto," she finally said, passing Phoenix and Maya to lead, "I know, it doesn't look like much right now, wait 'til we get to the lower levels."

          Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, and Starr's heels clacked harsh on the off-brown laminate. The frosted glass doors and dull plaster looked a lot like the Wright and Co. Offices's entrance, years in a future without sympathetic janitors. If the building's aim was to not look like a secret agency base, it was doing a marvellous job.

          "Are these Agent offices?" Maya wondered, "Don't tell me you have to do paperwork!"

           Starr laughed, a sunny ringing in the stark hallway. "Only if we're bad."

          Phoenix, in all honesty with himself, couldn't tell if she was serious.

          She stopped at a set of silver elevator doors and turned to Maya, regret drawing her brows. "Everything in here is need-to-know basis, sorry. But there are no lasers or anything else fun, I promise. Not on this floor, anyway."

 

          The elevator slid open with a mellow chime, and they stepped in: Phoenix kept careful watch over Maya, nightmare visions of her borrowing secret agents' equipment lurking in his imagination. And as the doors closed -- as the elevator rumbled downward, with no pressed buttons to guide it -- Starr leaned on the wall and regarded them, head canted. It was a pose of confidence, Phoenix could see that now in the gentle calculation dancing behind those tinted glasses.

          "You'll be briefed on arrival." Consideration laced her Agent words -- she was trying them out in a new context. "I think my role here is done. So ... I'm glad you're the ones on the mission, Mr. Wright, Ms. Fey. Best of luck to you."

          Sharp urge hated the formality, the Misters and Misses and the distance they created; he bit back call me Phoenix and nodded, shifting grip on his briefcase handle.

          "Starr," Maya murmured, and twisted robe's hem between her fingers, "Will we ever see you again?"

          She smirked broad at that. "When you wonder if you'll ever see someone again, the answer is maybe. No matter what."

          And however odd it sounded, Phoenix realized, glancing to his Fey companion, it was very, very true.

 

          With another chime, the elevator doors opened and Phoenix followed Maya out, eyeing the surroundings over her topknotted head. The walls shone cleanly white, and that was all he noticed before movement caught his eye, brown hair and vivid scarlet jerking to a stop in front of them.

          "Mr. Wright, Ms. Fey?" The girl clearly already knew the answer, excitement shining in her wide eyes.

          "Yes," Phoenix said, at the same time Maya chirped, "That's us!"

          And with a flick of gold Agent's badge, the newcomer squeaked, "Agent Missy, here! You're really doing it, wow, this is great!"

          She put away the badge -- where, Phoenix wasn't sure, and examining her revealing cheerleader's outfit for pockets would be all sorts of inappropriate. Missy offered a hand, beaming. And after a baffled moment, Phoenix took it to shake.

          "Welcome to base Alto," Missy said, enfolding Phoenix's hand in her smaller ones. "And thanks so much for coming, you're the perfect team for the mission, I just know it!"

          The word mission began to itch: what did the Agents have in mind? A full-scale courtroom invasion?

          A eternity passed while Missy gazed up at him -- radiating delight, bonfire-welcoming -- before she moved on to Maya, taking her hand for a much briefer moment.

          "Okay, so I'm supposed to take you to the Commander." Missy turned, twin braids whipping, and beckoned. "He's right this way, let's go, please!"

          And the trek resumed, and Phoenix took in as much as he could -- the blinding white all around, the computer-panelled security station Missy must have come running from, steel doors evenly spaced in the corridor. He thought he would have noticed Starr slipping away -- there was hardly anywhere to hide.

          "Well, he's not really this way, but his uplink is." Missy peered over her shoulder at them, braids bouncing with her stride, tinted glasses flashing. "Everybody's on tenterhooks over poor J, we're all behind you, Mr. Wright!"

          Faintness fluttered in him -- the nerves that ushered in every case he had ever defended. Phoenix raised a hand to his neck. "E-Everybody?"

          "Oh yeah, the whole Agency!" She banked sharp around a corner, deeper into the bright-lit warren. "You're taking care of one of our own, Mr. Wright, we know you're good, go get 'em!"

           He swallowed, and hoped hard that wasn't a wink Missy shot back at him.

          "You really are famous, Nick!" Maya's ever-subtle elbow jabbed at his side. "You'd better sign some autographs before we go!"

          Getting ridiculous; the nerves began to tremble in his chest. "I'm just a defense lawyer."

          "A great defense lawyer," Missy chirped.

          "Who helps innocent people," Maya added.

          "When they need the help!"

          Maya balled determined fists. "And have nowhere else to turn!"

          "And the odds are stacked a mile high," Missy turned a circle, walking momentarily backward, sweeping a dramatic red-clad arm, "And it's down to the wire and only the very exceptional best will do!"

          "Yeah, that's him, all right!"

          A shared grin flashed between the girls; Phoenix tried, and couldn't stop the smile tugging at his own face.

 

          Their path wound, more featureless white until Missy stopped sharp -- Phoenix heaved against his own momentum and hoped for a panic-blinding instant not to step on her.

          "Right here," Missy said, and her grin held mischief, "Ready?"

          Maya nodded, too quickly. And nothing in the world could have prepared Phoenix, but unfortunately, that had never stopped him before.

 

          Faint sketches of boardrooms fled Phoenix's imagination: the uplink room looked like an office break room reincarnated open and café-sleek, all clean lines in Agency white and black and chrome.

          "What a high-tech coffee machine," Maya remarked -- apparently about one of the silver appliances gleaming on a far countertop, "I'll bet you discuss Agent business over fancy cappucinos, don't you, Missy? Shaken, not stirred!"

          Phoenix shifted on his feet. "I don't think you shake coffee ..."

          "Caffeine," Missy said, dolloping sarcasm thick and rolling her eyes, "Is bad for you. That thing's a juicer and I never want to see a carrot ever again." She perched on a tall black chair, and draped one leg over the other. "Everything's a go, Commander!"

          Phoenix hadn't noticed the video screen until it hummed to life -- a full wall lighting up. And there, behind a desk, sat a man grey-haired and uniform-clad, hands laid together, thought lining his face.

          "Thank you, Agent," his voice rumbled from speakers, "And welcome, Mr. Wright, Ms. Fey, to base Alto. I am Commander Kahn, head of the task force we call the Elite Beat Agents -- thank you for joining us."

           His authority wasn't a look, wasn't a sound so much instinct -- the man was to be obeyed. Phoenix straightened, gripped his briefcase handle tight and nodded; Maya's salute caught his edge of vision and he winced inside.

          "You have questions, I'm sure, so I'll begin from the beginning." Kahn adjusted his sunglasses -- they flashed jade -- and leaned forward. "Our world is one driven by music. Every living thing exists to a rhythm and a beat, even one as simple as a heartbeat. And in the right hands, music can be a powerful force."

          "Music power," Missy agreed, maybe to herself.

           Kahn let a pause linger brief, and continued, "When a person is scared and overwhelmed, their rhythm falters. It's a difference clear as day to those able to sense it."

          "Sense it?" Phoenix wondered.

          "Like hearing a string played and recognizing that it's out of tune. Or recognizing that a band is playing out of synch." Propping elbows on the desk, Kahn rested twined hands against his chin. "Music sense is a rare gift. With enough practice, a person with this gift can hear the innate rhythm in the world around them. They can make their body an instrument, and channel the very essence of life -- that's what my Agents do when a person needs help."

          "Music sense ... It sounds almost like spirit channelling," Maya murmured.

          A smile came to Kahn, pulling crows' feet under the frames of his sunglasses. "Spirit mediums and Elite Beat Agents are a lot alike, Ms. Fey. Our training protocols drew inspiration from the the Kurain technique."

          "Oh, you know about that?" She clapped her hands together, delighted.

          Nodding, his face hardening once more to business, Kahn said, "And that's why this murder accusation is so serious. I'm sure you're familiar with Misty Fey, and her channelling to aid a murder case."

          Quiet hung thick -- they knew. The worn edges of case files stirred in Phoenix's memory, sorrow-heavy.

          "That seance had an unfortunate result, because ..." Kahn paused, and searched for tactful words. "Such uncommon abilities are difficult for the public to grasp. They become suspicious, it can't be rationalized. So mediums keep their talents within their traditional villages, and the Elite Beat Agency ... doesn't technically exist. Not on any records, and not as far as any government official knows or will state." His jaw tightened. "Mr. Wright, Ms. Fey -- Agent J cannot be tried for murder. That would expose our operations, that could confirm the existence of the Elite Beat Agents, and that would defy our investors' trust."

          "Then," Phoenix tried, "We're ...?"

          "You'll be defending a Mr. Stewart Julian Lowe, and as far as any and all records show, he is not a member of any agency."

          Realization widened his eyes; dread gathered. "But that's--"

          Kahn folded his hands on the desktop. "In plainest terms, yes. We're asking you to lie, Mr. Wright. But it's for the good of everyone involved --  this team does good work, I have the utmost faith in every member and I wouldn't compromise this Agency for anything." He paused. "Maybe someday ... the world will understand. Maybe Agents will be loved and cheered for. But that day isn't today, and it won't be anytime soon if Agent J is accused of murder."   

          It felt suddenly tragic -- Maya pouring over tabloids' murmurs of Agents, Stewart sitting nerve-strung in a cell. The miracle was real, but at what price? How hard did the Elite Beat Agents work to guard their existence from the very masses they helped? Phoenix nodded slow. "All right."

           "And I'm sure you realize that everything you know of the Agency must be kept confidential. Strictly confidential."

          "O-of course." He didn't want to imagine the trouble brewed from spreading secret agents' information around.

          Relief settled over Kahn. "Excellent. As you know, we don't have much time. You'll have all the infomation our network can provide, and every Agent who can be spared will come to your aid -- this is our highest priority, Mr. Wright, Ms. Fey."

          "Part of our team." Missy stood by Phoenix, shooting a smile sideways at him -- he hadn't even heard her move. "So, all set, Commander?"

          Kahn nodded once. "In the interest of time, you'll be briefed seperately: Mr. Wright on the case's known details, and Ms. Fey on the specifics of music sense. Specialties, of course, make for a stronger team. Good luck," and a proud smile pulled his face, "--We're counting on you." 

         

          The bright hallways felt nearly familiar, however foreign each turn was.

          "It's a lot to take in, huh?" The impishness had left Missy's voice -- she glanced back at them with a whip of braids. "My first briefing wasn't that long ago. It'll all make sense soon, don't worry!"

          "If music sense is like spirit channelling," Maya thought aloud, "Then it's not that hard to figure out. It's got rules just like everything else. This won't be so hard, Nick!"

          Maya definitely needed to start speaking for herself.

          "Nick?" A flash of smirk from Missy, the look he was already starting to dread, "That's so cute! But yeah, when you're with the Elite Beat Agency, the first thing you learn is that you're never alone. You've always got teammates to help you, even if you can't see them, they're there." Her back straightened, the bounce of her stride evened -- dignity, it seemed, wasn't just a word to the Agents. "So if you're confused or worried about anything, just ask us! It wouldn't be the first time we've helped!"

          That was much too large to grasp. "You," Phoenix forced from his mouth, "You mean you've--"

          Missy waved a hand. "We haven't completely bailed either of you out of anything, no! But the rhythm you stir up when you're in a trial? Especially you, Mr. Wright?" She walked backward, clasping her hands together, shining adoration widening her eyes once more. "Wow. It's ... it's this huge rainbow of things, you're so desperate and scared but you're not going to give up, either, not for anything! The Commander finally decided we didn't need to worry about anything Mr. Phoenix Wright was involved in, things always turn out okay when you're around!"

          His mouth worked -- he couldn't speak. He had no words for the shivering pride, no way to express properly that he understood what he did. Phoenix was the one standing strong now, scolding the world for its cruelty -- maybe others were forever changed by his objecting cry. Maybe if he told Edgeworth, he'd get a knowing smirk in return.

          Maya caught his eye and smiled -- just for a moment -- before saying to Missy, "So the spectator stands at Nick's trials were full of Agents cheering him on, right?" She giggled, and turned to watch where she led. "Best mission ever! No, he just kept distracting the heck out of Agents patrolling, nobody actually danced for him. Well ..." And with a sly look thrown back at Phoenix, "Except me."

           "You?!" he spluttered, "Really?" Intense as court could be, Phoenix was fairly sure a dancing girl in bright red chaps would catch his attention.

           "I wasn't dancing!" Missy flailed both hands. "I just watched a few trials, and there was one where Ms. F-- I'm going to call you Maya, okay? Good -- where Maya wasn't there and there was something about a detective and a thunderstorm ... I don't remember, I just remember you at that defense stand, pounding on it like you could hear yourself off-tempo and you knew but you just couldn't fix it. And you felt so alone, Mr. Wright--" a sadness took her voice, cotton-soft, "--I thought if you didn't have teammates then, I'd just have to help you instead. So I sat in that balcony and I channelled for you. Just a bit of finger-tapping, I hope it helped!"

          Case details swarmed back to Phoenix, and yes, he had fought alone -- Lana tight-lipped, Ema oblivious, Gant a cold-eyed predator across the courtroom. No Feys stood by him and he heard Mia's murmur of encouragement anyway; maybe music played a role then, maybe his new allies weren't so new after all.

          "Anyway," Missy chirped, "Oh, hey, Starr!"

 

          They rounded a corner and there leaned a familiar figure -- wearing cheerleader's scarlet, hair tumbling blonde, but with the same considering gaze through tinted lenses.

          "Hello again," Starr said, and favoured them with a smile before looking to Missy, "I'm on call until this is over, no missions. Can I help with the briefing?"

          "Sure!" Missy turned, jerking a thumb back at Starr. "Our master of disguise here, she gets all the cool undercover stuff. So, Maya, we'll be briefing you all about music sense, right this way, please!"

          "Mr. Wright," Starr offered, gesturing to the open doorway she stood beside, "You're right through here. Agent Foxx will go over the case details with you."

          He nodded -- down to more business.

          "I don't know if I'm much good at dancing, but I'll try my best!" Maya turned eager-bright eyes to Phoenix. "See you later, Nick!"

          "Yeah," Missy chimed, and grinned mischievous, "Later, Nick!"

 

          He managed to close his mouth as the three of them left: clacking shoes, vivid colours and Maya and Missy's bright voices. Rubbing his neck, Phoenix faced the open doorway, and hoped for the energy to keep up.

 

Chapter 4