Part Two

Slowly, it obeyed. Malak flew overhead for a bit, watching to make sure it actually left. Once certain it would maintain its course away from the beach at least for a while, he turned his attentions to the other monsters. Most of them were by now already ashore. Though they lumbered, they still made progress on the land.

A quick check showed that they were attacking the celebratory venues and menacing the attendees. Fortunately, the bizarre creatures weren't fast out of water. Unfortunately, some of those attending were much slower. A quick test showed Malak that these were just as resistant to his spears as the greater monster was. Which meant they would likely also resist his phasing. Worse, unlike the first creature, they ignored his commands.

Fortunately, they were not immune to general physical force. Wing strikes and explosions from his spears hitting the ground near them could distract these smaller giants, and even turn them. However, there were fifteen of them. Despite frantic efforts Malak found himself failing to keep them away from the fleeing people. There were simply too many of the creatures, and they were too determined in their attack. He also had to be careful not to harm the attendees with his spears.

Suddenly, there was a flash of multi-colored light, and Rainbow - all in blue - entered the fray.

"I got a message that you could use some help?" she asked, in her charming Cockney accent, as she flew beside the winged man.

"Definitely," said Malak.

With two of them working on the problem they were much better able to protect people and property. However, there were still many of the creatures to deal with, and the monsters simply would not leave. Fortunately, more help soon arrived, in the form of both additional empowered and heavily armed special police and even some proper military. Many of the monsters were eventually killed. The rest finally got the message that they weren't welcome and left. Malak noted that they were going in the same general direction as the larger one. He needed to find where they were going, but that would have to be later.

"That was bizarre," said Rainbow, as she stared at the surface of the Channel, watching the fading wakes of the creatures from where she hovered. Her coloring flickered, bands of hue moving rapidly along her body, as on some deep sea creature. "They just... went away!"

She was obviously baffled, and not a little offended. Rainbow was not the only one confused by these events, either, and not the only one among the empowered present who were left dissatisfied with the end results.

Elements of the French Navy finally arrived. Though they were too late to deal directly with the monsters they stood guard to prevent the return of the creatures. Rainbow and Malak slowly descended towards a promontory as they watched the cleanup. The downblast from Malak's white wings stirred up the dry sand as they landed. Rainbow's landing was much more gentle.

"I can feel no sense of measure in this," said Malak, frowning, after a while of looking out over beach and ocean.

"Which means?" said Rudy, who had finally caught up with them on his walker. He was flushed and panting, but seemed otherwise unaffected by his exertions.

"I can't discern any motivation, beyond simply disrupting the ceremony. In which case, why wait until it's nearly over? Then simply leave when they finally meet significant resistance?"

"Because their timing was off?" said Rudy. "Whoever is behind them might have meant the attack to come earlier, but monsters is monsters, as a friend of ours used to say."

"I remember him," said Malak, with a fond smile.

He changed back into Aaron. Then simply stood, staring out at the waves.

"That someone would attack here, where so much blood was already spilled..."

"White wings?" said Rudy, perhaps to get his friend's mind away from such brooding thoughts.

"I was wondering about that, too," said Rainbow.

"They changed a couple of years ago, after I exerted myself stopping a madman from destroying the world."

Naturally, they both wanted more information about that adventure. Just as naturally, Aaron demurred, giving them only the barest details.

"So that's what happened," said Rudy, nodding.

"I remember some of that," said Rainbow, also nodding.

"You get up to a lot more than what the news covers," muttered Rudy, when the empowered man made clear that was all they were getting from him about that adventure. Rudy side-eyed the older man. "Remember I asked you one time why you didn't do more? You replied that you do do more. I think I understand that, now."

"Well, everyone does get up to a lot more than most people know about," said Aaron, with a disarming smile and a shrug.

He looked at the remains of the nearest monster, one of those few the defenders had managed to kill. It was already being poked and prodded cautiously by investigators.

"At the risk of sounding egotistical, they seemed to have been designed specifically to resist my power set," said Aaron. He turned to Rainbow. "Anyway, thank you, Maisie. Don't know what I would have done if you hadn't arrived when you did."

"You'd have figured something out," she replied, grinning. "You always do."

* * *

The cleanup took much longer than the actual attack, as was typical even with mundane acts of violence. Then, dealing with the paperwork took longer than _that_. Aaron regretted missing the rest of the ceremonies, but realized that the event was probably over for the day; most likely for the year. "Canceled due to monster attack" was an unusual reason, but unfortunately this use of that excuse was far from unique.

Of course, the aftermath didn't end with the event. As just one complication, Aaron had to deal with the local police.

Unfortunately, the Inspector who interviewed him seemed obsessed with minutia at the expense of important data.

"What airline did you use when you came to Normandy?" asked the detective, pen poised over a form.

"I flew in on my own."

"I see. What airport did you use?"

"I thought you said you know who I am."

"Of course I do."

"Then why are you asking me these invalid questions?"

"No-one is above the law! You will answer these questions!"

"I didn't use an airport. I flew directly to the site of the celebration."

"Nonsense. There is no place there to land a plane. If someone attempted that we would of course notice!"

"Who said anything about a plane?"

"An airship, then? Which would be even _more_ noticeable!"

"No. Nor a helicopter."

"What other way is there to fly? You certainly didn't fly there under your own power!"

Aaron just looked at him, seeming amused. After a moment of staring blankly back, the Inspector rose, muttered "Excuse me." and left the room. He went to the his secretary.

"Notify Doctor Bellows."

"Another delusional witness?" she replied, reaching for her desk phone.

"This one thinks he can fly."

When he returned to his fifth-floor office the man was inexplicably gone. However, there was a single, large, white feather on the Inspector's desk.

* * *

Though the D-Day commemoration was a bust for this year, Malak had much else to occupy him. Even after the surviving monsters were located and destroyed. These days most disasters - natural or caused - were largely handled by the worldwide network of volunteers he had established, or similar efforts organized by other empowered. He therefore felt free to pursue additional ways to improve the planet, instead of merely dealing with immediate problems.

One of the more aggressive of these activities involved transporting lost shipping containers onto the properties of the companies which had sent them. Usually blocking the main entrance of the economic entity's main building in the process. Many of these containers were leaking toxins. Malak could have delivered them to the shipping companies, but figured that putting them where they inconvenienced those who owned the contents would cause the companies to be more careful about what they shipped and how, and cause them to put pressure on the businesses which had actually generated the shipping, motivating them to be more careful and responsible.

Malak had begun this work with the newest and shallowest of these containers, but quickly progressed to the oldest and deepest. He sometimes included parts of broken ships or even entire vessels with the containers. Once he had the procedure thoroughly worked out he set to work. Though no-one saw Malak or his doubles and other helpers doing this, and more of these containers had been moved onto the owners' properties than he was actually responsible for, most of his targets knew whom to blame. The problem for them was proving this. Especially since Malak was often sighted at widely distant locations at the same times the containers were placed. Well, the companies' immediate problem was dealing with the containers. After that, though...

* * *

Joe Blank met Melody at the airport for the last leg of her next visit to Haven. Normally, she would have asked her husband take her to the park in the center of town, but John was busy with an investigation for his job. Something about shipping containers. As Joe drove her to Haven - in what appeared to be the same station wagon as the one she had ridden in during her first visit all those years ago - she noticed that he only had a few more grey hairs. Melody suspected he was taking the Santa Cara drug. Maybe everyone in Haven was. The drug was expensive, but they _grew_ silphium, the plant it came from, there. She had read speculation that it might be possible to get animals to produce it, with sheep being mentioned most often, but so far laserpicium extract remained an entirely vegetable product.

For a change, Aaron was at his home when Melody arrived. Coral was still his housekeeper; she answered the bell for the side door and - with a glare but no words - ushered the reporter through the kitchen and into the living room. Melody found Aaron sitting on one of the couches, reading a book on ocean pollution. He immediately marked his spot in the book, put it down on the big, elderly coffee table between the couches and rose as she entered. That he was home when she arrived was happening more often these days, given the improvements made in detecting emergencies early, and the better communications involved in getting the word out to volunteers. In spite of that he looked tired. Though the reporter's arrival, as usual, seemed to greatly brighten his mood.

"I understand that you have more questions for me," he said, after their hug was over.

"Did you know that the French police have a warrant out for you?" said Melody, with an amused smile. "Except that while they have your name right, they say you are a young Frenchman who disrupted the D-day ceremonies and tried to avoid responsibility by lying about what happened. Then escaped custody during questioning."

"None of that surprises me. The detective I spoke to was a real Clouseau."

"Hah! Anyway, what I want to ask you about - among a few other things - is the recent increase in empowered pornographic material. There are rumors that Mannikin is behind much of it."

"Well, Doctor Carver did encourage them to find an outlet for their creative impulses," said Aaron, with a grin and a shrug.

"There are some people who are saying that these... performances are hurting the cause of empowered rights."

"Shouldn't empowered have the right to do what they want, as long as it's legal?" said Aaron, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not arguing they shouldn't. Just letting you know there could be a backlash, and asking about your response."

She sat on the other couch, across the coffee table from her host. Aaron in turn sat. For once there were no cats present.

"I watched some of the videos Manikin is supposedly in or responsible for," said Melody, when her host gave no indication of answering. "Purely for research purposes, mind you. They are rather... wild."

"While most of us tread warily within the halls of sanity, Manikin parties outside."

Melody smirked, having been witness - and even subjected - to some of Manikin's "parties." She pulled a hand-written list from her purse and perused it for a moment. Then she smiled, again.

"Anyway, I have some questions from my readers. There is actually speculation about what you wear under your robes. Ranging from armor of some type to nothing."

"Uh..." said Aaron, for once caught off guard.

"I've seen you as you fly overhead, remember," said Melody, still smirking. "This is from readers."

"Hmph. I didn't choose the outfit; it came with the wings. The material resembles cotton, but is far tougher. It also repairs and cleans itself when I transform. The basic outfit, I mean. The other two robes have to be cleaned and repaired separately, but I don't use them much. However, I can switch between the three at will."

He may have been dissembling a bit. Given the nature of the question, that was understandable. Melody nodded and checked her notes. She grinned.

"What is your favorite food?"

"Would you believe angel food cake?"

"No."

"Heh. Well, what I like largely depends on what mood I'm in. Though fried chicken is usually a good bet."

"Do you have any medical problems which 'normal' people don't?"

"You mean aside from having wings to worry about part of the time? Well, my resting blood pressure is too low, my resting heartbeat is too slow and my body temperature is also too low, as they all have been since I first gained my abilities. This is true of both my forms. Keep in mind that we only have a bit over a century of properly recorded medical experience with empowered. I have remained healthy through that interval despite these departures from the human average."

"Another common question is how much of the posing you do is deliberate. "

"Wait, what posing?"

"There are some... postures you take which make you look positively Zoroastrian," said Melody, grinning. "Especially when you spread your wings wide. You look like the Faravahar angelic image, with your wings anchored at the small of your back and your center feathers going down almost to your ankles and fanning out, like a tail. Though unlike those images you have human legs and feet."

"You've been studying," said Aaron, grinning back at her.

Despite his obvious amusement, Melody could tell he was uncomfortable. As he tended to be any time someone mentioned that Aaron - or, much more often, Malak - seemed to be connected in some way to an actual religion.

"I think people are just looking at images of me and picking those in which they think I'm posing in some way related to something from a faith," he continued. "Any resemblance to actual religious iconography - beyond those features generated by the stories of angels my Mother told me during my childhood - is purely coincidental."

"Confirmation bias, we in the press call that." She looked back at the list. "Okay, this came from multiple readers. 'What famous figures have you met? Which ones do you wish you had met?' They specifically mention Mae West, Will Rogers and Mark Twain, among others."

"What's telling is what they _aren't_ asking about people I've met. As just one example, I heard Marian Anderson sing at the Lincoln Memorial in 1939. I even remember when Constantinople was officially changed to Istanbul in 1929. Now _that_ was an interesting year..."

"Wow..."

"I met Einstein several times, though for all but two of those I was part of a group. I met Orson Welles several times. He asked me to play roles of various importance in some of his movies and TV programs, but I always declined. I got to hear Buddie Petit perform, during a couple of occasions when we were both in Baton Rouge. You probably don't know of him, but he was one of Louis Armstrong's inspirations. As to the question about people I wish I had met, the missed opportunity which stands out involves Theodore Roosevelt. I had a chance as a young man to meet him after attending one of the speeches he gave as president, but turned it down. I have regretted that ever since. He died a few years after I was empowered but before I was actually widely enough known to leverage a meeting with him.

"Speaking of Louis Armstrong, I actually met _him_ several times. Among other things, he convinced me to become involved with civil rights.

"As for the others, yes, I actually met all three of the people you mentioned, though briefly in each case. Rogers is the one who made the best impression. Mae West was surprisingly insightful, someone whose intelligence was and is often underestimated. Twain, or Sam Clemens, was rather elderly when I met him but still sharp of mind and wit. My father was a fan of his works - my father was, after all, an English teacher - and managed to arrange a meeting in 1909. He took me along, probably for moral support."

"Okay..."

"This is far from the first such list of questions I have been asked. Something I find unexplainable is that some of them ask about my connection to things which happened well before I was born."

"A lot of people don't get numbers," said Melody, expression neutral.

"Enough about me for now," said Aaron, with a chopping gesture. He looked more closely at Melody. "I see you are taking your medicine."

"Well, yes," said the reporter, blushing.

"You actually look younger," said Aaron, frowning in deep thought as he examined her with vision and senses not available to normal doctors.

"A couple of years ago our then new chief editor at the paper asked at a meeting what one super power people there would want," said Melody, changing the subject a bit. "He may have gotten the idea from my columns on the empowered. Anyway, I think he did it partly to get to know us better, partly as a team-building exercise. There were the usual things, such as great strength and invulnerability. However, one answer stuck in my head. The guy replied 'Immortality. Given time, I can learn the rest.'"

"Smart man. What did you choose?"

"Stealth," said Melody, with a slight smile.

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Getting back to the readers' questions..." said Melody, looking down at the list. She rolled her eyes at the next one. "This person wants to know what you thought of Disco."

"Well, some good music came out of that, but mostly I thought of it as yet another short-lived music fad. Like rap seems to be. That could yet fool me, but it seems to be little more than beat poetry set to music. However, I don't have the animosity towards it which many do. Remember, Jazz was called the Devil's music and condemned by many, and in its early days did not look like it was long for this world, but it's still around. I'm also still a fan. It's actually very popular today, and has many sub-genres. As do the Blues, which I also like, as you well know, and which was also looked down on when new."

"'You spend a lot of time and effort helping others. Can you name a time when _you_ needed help?'"

"Just recently, at the D-Day commemoration ceremonies, as just the most recent example of many."

"Somehow, I don't think that's the sort of thing they have in mind," said Melody, dryly. "Oh, here's a good one. 'What's it like being you?'"

"Terrifying," said Aaron, quietly, and surprising her. "I can do essentially whatever I want. Fortunately, my conscience reins me in. Power without discipline is useless or worse."

"I think that is the thing about you which terrifies a lot of people," said Melody, softly. She sighed, and put the paper away without even looking at the rest of the notes on it. "They think about what they would do with such power, and generalize. They don't understand how disciplined you are, and only see the potential for damage of your power. I also think that a large part of the reason so many - in authority and out - are still afraid of you is that you are so private. They never get to know you.

"Of course," she quickly continued, "even beyond the fear factor, people are curious about you, and you frustrate that. By keeping to yourself so much, you have maintained your status - at least in the public eye - as being aloof from humanity. If you had satisfied their curiosity early on you would have probably faded to the back page by now, as so many other empowered have, regardless of their accomplishments. Instead, you provide answers only rarely, so people are still curious about you. You remain third, second or even front page news, in part because there is so much mystery remaining about you."

"All I do is help people," said Aaron, sadly. He gave her a sad smile. "As James Madison said 'If men were angels we wouldn't need government.' Or charities. Or over half the first responders we have."