Part Ten

"I checked with Insight," said Aaron, when Melody called from her office the next morning. She was at work, while he was still at home, enjoying a post-breakfast second cup of coffee. A rare luxury, even with his reduced schedule these days. "It agrees with my analysis. However, it can't find her."

"That's... surprising," said Melody. "As well as worrying. I suppose it's not because she's dead?"

"No. Somehow she's actively hiding. I guess it makes sense that someone with superhuman senses would be good at concealing herself."

"So how do you find her?"

"By being patient. Every time she acts she reveals something of herself."

"I don't like the idea of you simply waiting for another attack," said Melody. "You should try to be more proactive."

They chatted for a bit, mostly about innocuous stuff. Then there was a pause. Which was broken by Aaron, after another sip of coffee.

"I miss the Automat," sighed Aaron, in an apparent non-sequitur.

"The automat?!"

"The Automat. Horn & Hardart. They had such good coffee," said Aaron, with another sigh, and yet another audible sip from his cup. "From the late Twenties into the Sixties, I used to fly to New York - usually to a particular Automat in Manhattan, on Times Square - at least once a week, just to indulge. They used a French Press method. I went not only for the coffee, but the excellent food, of which they had a wide selection. I took my wife a few times, but she wasn't really a fan. Except of the deserts."

He gave her a sad smile, through the phone.

"They eventually went out of business, of course. They couldn't compete with the inferior quality but cheaper fast food chains. However, I still fly to Vienna on occasion for some genuine Wiener schnitzel. For the same reasons."

"I found your weakness!" laughed Melody. "Food!"

"I think you already knew that. With my senses I get far more out of good food than do most people. It has to be well made, though."

"So quantity prevailed over quality, yet again," said Melody. "In killing the Automat, I mean."

"Automats were a German invention, from the late Nineteenth Century, as I believe you know. As often happens, Americans took some other nation's creation to its peak form. Then let it die."

He looked into the distance wistfully, momentarily ignoring the phone as he saw something in his memory.

"You can still get their coffee blend, mail order..."

"I'd noticed that your coffee was pretty good," said Melody. "As well as that the coffee at the town cafeteria is almost as good."

"I make certain of that."

* * *

The Schemer scowled. Not only had the attempts to discredit Malak failed, in large measure they had backfired. The false angel was better known and more popular now than before the attacks began. Partly because the attacks had led to more people being aware of him and what he had done to make the world better. As well as generating sympathy. Naturally, his crimes were ignored.

Not all of these developments had been passive on his part, either. He had even made friends with someone who was supposed to be his enemy!

Perhaps the time had come for more overt actions.

"It's outrageous. No matter what direction you point him in, he turns towards the course which will eventually make the best impression on others. Even when that is not the most immediately optimal choice for him! Yet he persistently rejects doing certain things which would improve his public image!"

"He does what he thinks is right, even when doing it damns him in the eyes of the politicians," said Bludgeon, with a shrug. He gave the Schemer a meaningful glance. "Like I've said before, you need to go after him directly. Maybe not physically, but directly in some way."

"All right. However, we're not going to use brute force. Instead, we'll try something weird."

* * *

Malak returned to Haven after helping with some wildfires in California. Having supplicants waiting when he returned to his home following such an excursion was not unusual. This time, besides the usual members of the Haven community, there were several strangers. Two stood out, a man and a woman. They were not obviously together, but something about them looked similar to Malak. He noticed that the townsfolk waiting for him were avoiding both of them, even though their normal manner towards visitors was welcoming.

The woman seemed to be typical of people seeking some boon from Malak. She was modestly dressed and well-groomed, presumably to try and make a good impression. The man appeared rather destitute, though his clothes were clean and worn well.

The woman approached as Malak landed; in fact, she arrived near his landing spot while he was still a bit above the ground. Even while still in the air, he noticed that her eyes kept changing color. Not all the white at once, like Rainbow's, but in fragments, wedges, angular sections. Like a kaleidoscope. Just as he touched down, she spoke...

"Your hair is horrible."

A deep slice appeared on the radius of Malak's right wing.

Despite the pain this caused, Malak manifested one of his shields, between himself and the strange woman.

"Your robes are disheveled."

This time the gash was across his chest. The shield was untouched, even though it was between him and her.

"BE QUIET!!" said Malak, snapping his wings wide, despite pain from the cut in one of them.

Whether because of the charisma effect or simple surprise, she opened her mouth but in astonishment rather than to speak.

"I don't know how you were brought up, young lady, but in my day we didn't talk like that to people!"

Malak kept speaking as he quickly approached her, not letting the woman get a word in. Her eyes widened with alarm as he manifested a spear, but he only used it to cut a strip from her jacket. This he used to gag her.

"There. That should stop your cutting remarks."

Local police officers were already on the way and quickly moved in to grab her. However, as they took the strange woman away the man Malak had previously noted moved in.

"I'm Shepherd," he said, mildly. "I'm here to end you."

"Well, it's good that our roles in this are clearly defined," said Malak, a bit startled.

"Your work is finished," said Shepherd, calmly. "You can go now."

"I can go but I won't," said Malak, surprising him. "I choose. Not you. I don't think my work is done."

"You have no work!" said the man, yelling in frustration, obviously not accustomed to someone defying him like that. "Your self-appointed task was completed decades ago!"

"I am simply continuing to do what I have done for the past century and a bit. Trying to make things better. Nothing you say or do can change that."

"Your time is past!"

"Time has the final word. Not you."

"No-one appreciates what you do!"

"Time makes fools of us all," said Malak, calmly. "Sic transit gloria mundi. The glory of the world eventually fades. Only I don't do this for glory."

He might have continued sparing with the man, except that Malak noticed that stranger's words were beginning to affect the remaining police officers, who were waiting to see what was going on before taking action against the stranger. So Malak simply stepped in and put a choke hold on the man. Once the stranger was unconscious, he motioned for the officers to approach.

"He needs to be taken to the medical center at my clinic," said the winged man. "Warn them that his words can harm. Actually, that goes for both of them. You better take her there, too, and use the same precautions."

* * *

Naturally, Melody had to visit Aaron after this attack. Again, her husband was glad to oblige, and not just because investigating these attacks was part of his job.

"So, is this part of the effort against you? It seems much more direct than anything except the monster attack at Normandy. Though we still aren't certain you were the main target of that."

"Yes," Aaron replied, as he poured coffee into her cup. Not for the first time, Melody noted the delicious aroma, though this time she knew why it smelled so good. "This is an obvious escalation. One which endangered bystanders. Which means that I need to be more active in the matter."

"As I have recommended before," said Melody, as she appreciatively took the proffered cup. Aaron had already put in the amounts of cream and sugar she liked. Melody shrugged and gave him a humorless smile. "As for those two attackers, how do you defend against what they can do? Well, besides keeping them both gagged all the time. Isn't there any way to neutralize powers?"

"Not yet, though there are some promising leads," said Aaron. He shrugged. "I will get that done, but it won't be quick. It may take longer than those two will live, but I will do it. Or someone else will and I'll use their discovery."

Melody felt a bit of a chill at his "longer than those two will live" though she wasn't certain why. Perhaps because this was an indirect reminder of her own mortality, though she had long accepted that Aaron/Malak would likely outlive her.

This wasn't the first time the problem of countering the abilities of captured empowered had come up, of course. In many countries they were kept sedated. In a few places they were summarily executed.

"Unfortunately, those two have no information on the mastermind," said Aaron. "They were hired by an intermediary. Who was likely also hired by an intermediary. We're searching for that first man, regardless."

"Did you get the legal problems whoever is behind this caused you straightened out?"

"Yes, though I almost had to cash in my coin collection," said Aaron. To someone who knew him this admission implied a serious concession to necessity. "To pay my legal expenses, I mean. My wife and I amassed it with the understanding that it would only be used for financial emergencies. We never had to use it, fortunately, and subsequently its value has increased greatly. However, my recent legal expenses nearly exhausted my personal resources. If I hadn't found some of the lost White Russian treasure a couple of years ago, I might have needed to sell the collection. I just didn't feel justified asking those who support my town and clinic to contribute. Fortunately, my attorneys were able to settle matters within the limits of my available resources."

He gave a deep sigh.

"I was planning to use that money to help people."

"You really need to find the person who is behind all this."

"No argument."

* * *

The syndicated radio show was on in the evening, at a time when many people would be relaxing after supper but before bed. The show was famous for the host being provocative and controversial. He was also known to be strongly anti-empowered, though his rants against that group were actually rare. This particular broadcast he was supposed to have a guest who would provide evidence against allowing the empowered to "just do what they want." Many people neutral towards or even sympathetic to the empowered tuned in just to hear what the "expert" said.

The guest was introduced as "Doctor" and claimed to be a psychiatrist. His main grievance with the empowered seemed to be that they were free to act as they pleased, like everyone else. He was especially critical of those with powers who donated their services to helping others. He claimed they were, by (his) definition, insane.

"Take this Malak, the so-called Angel of Chicago," said the man. "Who doesn't even live in Chicago! He not only compulsively helps others against his own best interest, he has convinced other empowered to do the same. He is by definition mentally ill. His little cult of empowered won't last long. It will end as soon as one of them thinks to ask what's in it for them, which will disrupt the entire effort."

He continued like this at length, often citing good works by Malak and his team as evidence that they were irrational. He stated overtly that no sane person would willingly commit so much effort - often at great personal risk - "out of the goodness or their hearts." Ignoring the fact that this had been going on for decades.

"Humans by nature are selfish. Acting like this is violating human nature."

The phones were opened for comments. Which were uniformly against the "psychiatrist."

"You're the one who's selfish!" was a typical comment. "You're trying to cash in on the good works of others by claiming they're wrong! The best people are the generous ones! Just because you're a selfish jerk doesn't mean that most people are. Stop acting like everyone is as greedy as you!"

"Empathy is part of human existence," was another typical reply. "A lack of empathy - of caring about others - is a sign of a psychopath!"

In general, the callers argued that generosity and magnanimity, not selfishness, were the markers of proper humans. That the "saintly" behavior of Malak simply proved that he was one of the best.

The "psychiatrist" calmly rebutted the callers, often with points which did not actually address what they had said. He held to his expressed beliefs, despite all evidence.

At one point, though, seeming to think his mike was off, the guest angrily yelled "What's wrong with the people you hired to comment?!" The host - his own mike off but clearly heard through the guest's - replied "These aren't the people we hired! Some empowered must be influencing things!" However, he closed with impartial comments. He almost sounded conciliatory towards empowered.

"That was actually a bit refreshing," said Melody, turning off the large, console radio.

"I bet that by his next show he's back to being 'neutral,'" said John, with a sigh.

"Well, I'm betting that most of the people who listened to this are pro-empowered. Or at least pro-Malak. They just flooded the phone lines."

"Given the usual audience for this show, that's saying something."

* * *

Aaron was in his home office, reading mail, when a messenger from the Mayor came knocking. He looked up as Cora escorted the flustered-looking young man into the hardwood-walled room.

"Mayor didn't want to trust this to a call," the young man panted. "There's half a dozen Secret Service Agents waiting outside your official office!"

This turned out to actually understate the case. There were three unmarked US government cars parked - properly, in the marked spaces - in front of the small structure, each with a driver. Plus six men and women waiting with obvious impatience outside the door.

"It's not locked," said Aaron, as he calmly approached.

"And you are...?" said the man who turned out to be in charge.

"Aaron LeBelle." He stepped past the man and opened the door. "Would you like to come in?"

He did. The others waited outside. However, the moment the door was closed the Secret Service man opened with a demand.

"You will not take any actions against the government of the United States!" said the man, flatly.

"Unless there's a gross, overt violation of civil rights," said Aaron, looking the man in the eye. He sighed, and shifted topics slightly. "I believe that empowered individuals or groups endorsing a candidate or running for office themselves leaves all of us with powers vulnerable to accusations of cheating. I have stated that supporting the work of an elected official is fine, though I believe there should be sharp limits. For those and other reasons, I don't interfere in governmental matters and encourage other empowered to likewise not interfere."

"It's hypocritical of you to tell other empowered to avoid involvement in politics, when you were instrumental in the fall of one former president and the ascension of another!"

"That's a gross misstatement of the situation with Sandusky and Duff. That was actually a matter of the progression of events," said Aaron, not showing to this man what those events had cost him. "It was not indicative of my endorsement of the positions of either Sandusky or Duff."

"You're trying to kill the President!" the man yelled. "The current one!"

"Why would I do that?" said Aaron, honestly startled.

"Because you hate his policies!" said Yungman.

"I barely know what his policies are," said Malak, blithely. "I don't pay much attention to politics. I do know that some of his cronies have tried to get me to endorse him. They seemed to assume that I would support his causes, because they think he's divinely inspired, and thought that I am as well. When I turned them down they demonized me. I'm used to that, though. None of my current or recent activities involve the President, that I know of."

"We are watching you!"

"Good luck with that. I tend to go places where few others could survive. Now, if that's all..."