Part Six

The Friday afternoon gathering was held in the largest of the underground storage rooms so far cleared and cleaned. There was even a table of refreshments, though when Melody and Blackpool arrived those had barely been touched. The reporter wondered if that were due to the former use of the room.

Melody was astounded at both the number and variety of types of people present. They ranged from very normal looking - which included her, of course, apart from her currently untamed hair - to individuals who looked in no way human. There were a few whom Melody wasn't even certain counted as biological! She quickly learned that even many of those of normal appearance were actually empowered. Aaron chief among them.

She already knew several of those in attendance, though some only by reputation or news photos. One of those was someone she kept her distance from, at least for now: Lady Dragon. More than her reputation made the reporter feel a bit of a chill in the tall, dark woman's presence. Where Aaron's demeanor was warm and comforting, she seemed to radiate a cool aloofness. Still, she had a record of helping others, though sometimes only when pressured by people like Aaron.

In fact, except for exchanging pleasantries, Melody kept quiet for now. She instead observed the interactions between those present. Especially how the different "ranks" of empowered treated each other. Melody felt grateful that none of the - sellouts might be too strong a word, but she felt it was appropriate for most of them - empowered celebrities were present. None of those here sought the limelight, though some did little to actively avoid it. Most of the empowered attendees were not officially registered, though some were.

Take Zoomer, for instance. He was registered with the Empowered Matters Agency as a messenger. He wasn't a publicity hog - more than once saying he already had more paying job offers than he could fill and no desire for fame - but didn't avoid the news media. He was also famous for helping out in emergencies. Which he apparently did seek out, since he was involved with them far more often than mere chance would allow. Just now he was part of a subgroup among those gathered in the large room, members of which were enthusiastic about participating in the upcoming rescue. Though some of those standing nearby, looking on, were not so clear about their intentions.

"What about you, Dragon Lady?" said Zoomer, turning his famous grin in her direction.

"That's Lady Dragon," she said, her tone icy. "Yes, I'm in. Though I'll mostly likely be held in reserve in case you need to stop an army."

Well, she might be egotistical or merely supremely confident. Either way, her history confirmed that she was indeed formidable in a fight. This and other interactions told Melody that the meeting was mainly to confirm who would be participating in the rescue, and bring them together to get to know each other.

"I get the feeling she doesn't like you," Melody joked, though quietly, to Zoomer, a little later.

"Yeah, well, if she can't take the heat..."

"Why is she even here?" said CornFed, obviously not happy about the other empowered woman's presence.

"Only two people have ever beaten the Caspian Sea Monster in single combat," said Melody, indicating a direction with a nod. "They're over there, talking."

CornFed, puzzled, looked in the indicated direction, and saw the reporter was referring to Lady Dragon and Aaron. Who were having a quiet and very serious conversation.

"Oh..." said CornFed, weakly.

"I still haven't heard when you'll begin the operation," said Melody, casually.

"You won't," said CornFed, grinning, actually - and pointedly - cutting off Zoomer. "Not until just before it starts. Partly due to security concerns. Partly because we're still looking for the optimum time."

She sighed, and suddenly looked tired.

"People are suffering, but if we go in at the wrong time we could get a bunch of innocents killed. We have to wait."

"Just keep me in the loop, please," said Melody.

* * *

Ramzi made sure his little sister was in her bunk and would stay there. At fifteen he had been forced into the role of head of family. He had no idea where their parents were, or whether they were even still alive. Doja was only a year and a half younger, but had regressed, acting like she was a preteen. Part of the reason for her odd behavior was simple hunger. She kept wanting to scrounge for something to eat, and had to be watched. To make sure she stayed inside after curfew, that she didn't steal from the wrong person, that she didn't eat something hurtful.

She wasn't alone, in any of this. No-one in the camp got enough to eat. Even most of the guards were hungry all the time. Not like those they watched, but enough to ensure that they would steal from their charges. Of course that also meant they could be bribed with a bit of food. Ramzi's stomach hurt from giving most of his day's rations to a guard to prevent him from taking Doja away for "interrogation." He cried silent tears of suffering and privation and despair. He didn't know how much longer he would have the strength to protect her.

The odd disturbance began just after lights out at the camp. As people in one of the large but cramped and unfinished buildings settled in to a sleep made difficult by hunger, illness and worry, a quiet but very attention-gaining voice spoke. Not only in the local language, but the idiom of those in the building.

"Do not be alarmed. If you wish to leave this place we have prepared a refuge for you. Please, quietly gather your belongings and be ready to move quickly. Those of you who are able-bodied please aid those who aren't."

Several other voices - some of them known to some of those listening - also spoke. Confirming what the first said, and encouraging the prisoners.

Ramzi quickly rolled out of his bottom bunk. He shook Doja awake, made sure she was actually getting up. Then he piled their meager belongings onto the filthy, worn blanket on his bunk and rolled that into a bundle.

"What is it?" said Doja, as reluctant to wake to this harsh reality as she had earlier been to go to sleep.

"Help is here."

He didn't know that for certain, but whatever was coming had to be better than what they had... Right?

* * *

The strange announcement was repeated in each ramshackle building, then at each makeshift tent. By the time the last group had been alerted, those in the first shelter were busy moving through the strange circle which had appeared in one wall.

Some were skeptical, but hope dies hard and many of those here still hoped for rescue. They could see illuminated buildings on the other side of that circle, with people like them calling, smiling and motioning them on. They moved, a bit hesitantly at first but with gathering momentum.

On the far side of that disc they faced another camp, similar in some ways to what they had left but in most ways vastly different. The compound was open, there were no armed guards, everything looked new, clean and well built, unlike the crude hovels their previous shelters had started as. People already there urged them on, into gatherings away from the circle, to make way for those still coming through. With the first building emptied - and checked, quickly and thoroughly by empowered with appropriate skills - the circle blanked for a moment, then moved to the next group of refugees.

Ramzi blinked at the additional lights which now came on. Before the illumination had been low, partly to avoid blinding those being rescued, and partly to avoid attracting the attention of their captors, back at the detention camp. There was a rapidly rising babble, augmented by cries from people awaiting those just rescued. Many of those already there were calling out to someone they knew among the newcomers, and responding cries of relieved recognition came from them.

Suddenly, Doja yelled with happy excitement. She grabbed her brother's arm and pulled him towards one of those calling out. Now, no longer dazzled by the lights, he recognized their father's younger brother!

"Uncle Moha!" said Ramzi, giddy with relief.

They came together in a fierce, three-way hug, as more and more people hurried through the circle, into the light.

The more alert among the refugees were startled to note the presence of the press, held back by sawhorses. There were no fences, no armed guards, just new buildings, smaller in size but greater in number and much nicer than those they had left.

Slowly, even the most skeptical began to relax. To smile. They were welcomed, and told where they could find a place to sleep, or wash, or get hot food.

Meanwhile, the rescue continued.

* * *

Melody was not at the refugee camp. Instead, she remained at the repository, at the rear of the room where the events were being managed. The new communicators Aaron and his people were using helped greatly with that work. As did several empowered with communication abilities. She arranged for a phone line out, and what Melody said was not only recorded by her paper but went out live on one of the New York State university radio stations. Melody didn't learn until later that some parts of her report were also carried live by the network the station was an affiliate of.

She stood at the back of the room holding the phone, on a low platform which let her and the few other reporters present look over the assembly. Things were frantic, but thanks to preparation, powers and skills serious problems were few. The rescue had started a little after 1:00 PM at the repository. Personnel actually participating had been quietly moved to the empty destination camp and had made themselves ready. By the time they started, it was late enough at the refugee camp that most of the guards would be asleep and those still on duty starting to get groggy. Hopefully.

Finally, a surprisingly short time after the operation started, word came from the death camp that all the prisoners had been rescued and the tunnel closed. No casualties. A cheer went up. Melody joined in without reservation.

* * *

Multiple celebrations began not long after. One of them was at the repository. Melody found herself mingling with numerous giddy people, many of them empowered. Some of the participants returned to the repository under their own power. Others employed the same method used to rescue the refugees to get back. Still others stayed to celebrate with the rescuees, or simply to rest. While she gladly witnessed - and mentally documented - the celebration, what Melody really wanted to hear about were the problems. Because no matter how smooth and successful it all went, she already knew there had been some. Finally, she was able to corner Zoomer. This was a bit ironic, since his speed usually made him hard to catch.

He at first simply echoed the mood of the celebration, gleefully if tiredly telling Melody how glad they were all had gone well. Once she got both of them seated in a corner in folding chairs, however, he admitted not everything had been perfect.

"There were a few people who needed more convincing than the rest," he noted, mood finally sobering. "Malak convinced them, yeah. Better believe it! There were also a few elderly or disabled who had to be helped. A few children hiding who had to be found. All that we pretty much expected. There was one thing, though..."

"What?" said Melody, eagerly, as he paused.

"We were just about to pull the last of our people out of the last shack - including Malak - when we heard shouting," said Zoomer, speaking quietly but rocking back and forth a bit. "Malak and I hurried outside and saw a family of five running towards the building, the father carrying the youngest. Keep in mind these weren't the healthiest of people. They looked pretty desperate. Anyway, there were guards just starting after them. Those men didn't know what was going on, yet; just that these people were out after curfew, running and making noise. Malak and I intercepted the family and while he shielded us with his wings I helped them inside. However, I saw that the warp tunnel was starting to collapse. I called the problem out to Malak, and he ghosted ahead of us and braced himself in the opening on that end, somehow holding it open! The family and I made it through just before it collapsed.

"That left him on the other side, but, naturally, he had no trouble leaving."

"I didn't know he could do that," said Melody, frowning. "I didn't know he had any sort of warping powers."

"He's been doing a lot of new things, lately," said Zoomer, looking at her at for least two seconds straight for emphasis. "You should see some of his sparring sessions. He's even figured out how to make a big shield, for extra protection."

He gave a tired smile, but that soon faded. Zoomer leaned towards her a bit, and lowered his voice.

"There's something I realized, recently - maybe because I can spend more relative time thinking, maybe just because I work with him so much - that I think is important. Something few others seem to realize. Aaron is one of the oldest known empowered, yes, but there are dozens - maybe more than a hundred - at least as old. They have all - well, the ones still around - become far more powerful through the years than they were early on. However, as far as I've been able to find out, he's the only one whose main goal has been to actively improve himself. In an unselfish, altruistic way."

"Not just to become more powerful," said Melody, nodding slowly as she considered his words. "To become better."

"Exactly. So, how does that translate into what he can do now? As well as where he's going with that?"

"I'm... actually reluctant to think about that," said Melody, shifting uneasily in her seat. "Worse, what happens when he decides we mere humans - empowered or otherwise - aren't worth the trouble?"

"What I'm worried about is what happens when he decides that we need to be better?"

* * *

After the party ended - which didn't take long; even those who had stayed at the repository were exhausted - Melody decided to speak with Aaron privately. She learned he had left the party at some point before it broke up. Asking around, she learned he had mentioned something about needing a shower.

Melody went to the locker rooms and heard both a shower running on the men's side and someone singing. Several someones. Not all of them male. It sounded almost like a choir.

"Hello? Is Aaron in there?" she called out, feeling unusually embarrassed.

"Just a moment!" came the familiar voice.

She was astonished when Aaron came out of the men's side alone, in just a towel. He gave Melody a friendly smile.

"Sorry I didn't speak with you at the celebration. I was tired, dirty and feeling a bit pressed by the crowd."

She realized some of that was dissembling; he'd been there as Malak. To get clean all he had to do was change back. Or had he showered in his angelic form and changed? Melody wasn't certain how that worked. However, she did not follow him as he walked back into the men's side to his locker.

"Who else is in here?" said Melody, confused.

"Just me," said Aaron, his voice echoing a bit. "Why?"

"I thought I heard people singing."

"Oh, that was just me," he said, actually sounding a bit embarrassed. "I was... celebrating a bit. I like to sing when I'm happy."

"I heard multiple voices!"

He looked at her around the end of the wall dividing the two sections, smiled and shrugged. He now appeared completely dry and nearly finished dressing.

"Are you telling me," said Melody, slowly, as he again ducked out of sight, "that you can sing with several voices at once?"

"I didn't tell you that."

Melody shook her head and muttered under her breath.

"Did you want something?" He stepped back around the end of the wall, now fully dressed.

She gave him an "I will get back to this, but later" look.

"You didn't tell me that your quantum computer could affect reality!"

"That's still theoretical," said Aaron, with a careless shrug. "Even if it can, it would only affect things on the quantum level."

"Little things lead to big things," said Melody, ominously. "'All for the want of a nail.' and all that."

"More generally, anything anyone does affects everything," said Aaron, quietly. "The whole 'butterfly flapping its wings' concept. Don't worry; we're being careful."

"I do worry! Everyone should worry!"

"About everything," said Aaron, nodding. "Most can't be bothered."

He gave her a tired smile.

"I hope you'll excuse me, but I need to get to the after-action report. Then back to Haven."

"Am I allowed to hear that report?" said Melody, eagerly.

"Sorry, no. People will be talking about things - including powers - which need to be kept between members."

"Oh. Well, then, you owe me an interview about the rescue."

"Deal," he said, grinning.

* * *

Hours later, back at his office in a building beside the city hall of Haven, Aaron found much work waiting for him. There were stacks of mail, hand-written messages from his staff and recordings on his answering machine. Most of this could be - should have already been - handled by his assistants. However, they tended to forward anything which they had doubts about to him, often with extensive notes. Those at least showed the assistants had evaluated the matter. Generally, they knew what to do and let him know their recommendations, but left the final decision to him.

Aaron gave a tired, aggravated sigh and began sorting. One item which attracted his attention was an invitation to attend the 75th anniversary celebration of the D-Day invasion. However, soon after reading that he noticed a flagged letter which had gotten buried in the pile of less personal messages. Aaron's youngest son, Richard, was worried about his youngest child, Louis. Fortunately, the date on the flag showed it had just arrived the day before.

Aaron read through the letter carefully. Richard was not someone to worry needlessly. Neither was he the sort of person who casually put what he saw as his duty onto someone else, due to a strong streak of independence. The fact that he was asking his father for help with a family matter was significant. Aaron finished the letter, and sat, frowning, for a very long time. Then he reached for his phone.