The Angel of Earth

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Seventeen

"What's that?" said Blackpool, as Aaron entered his office at the Repository, letter in hand.

"It's from Harold Petersen, one of my contacts in the US Justice Department. He says several agencies - including yours - are pooling resources to build a dedicated empowered detention facility."

"I knew there was word about that going around," said Blackpool, nodding slowly, "but not that they had put aside interagency rivalries and actually started building the place."

"That could be deliberate. What brought them around was your unauthorized exit from the empowered wing of that federal prison. They have decided to start from scratch, and build something even you couldn't exit from."

"Yes, I can see how they might be reluctant to tell me about that," said Blackpool, wryly.

"Anyway, Harold is involved with the project and has invited me to come and look things over during construction. I think they want my advice on how to make such a place truly escape-proof."

"That's probably not possible. They can't even make prisons escape-proof for people without powers."

"I know," said Aaron, with a slight smile. "Still, it would foster goodwill among those agencies for me to go there."

"I'd like to see the place, too," said Blackpool, grinning under his full-face mask, "but I doubt I'd be welcome."

* * *

Malak came out of his high-speed flight mode well above the agreed-upon location for his arrival. He could see an improvised parking lot below, with fairly ordinary cars and trucks left in a somewhat orderly fashion on the bare dirt and gravel. As well as someone obviously waiting for him. Nearby, work was underway, with heavy construction vehicles doing various earthmoving tasks. There was a lot of dust, in spite of recent rains. Fortunately, the wind was currently blowing away from the parking lot. Malak spread his wings and lost altitude rapidly in a tight spiral.

"I thought I'd be meeting Mr. Petersen," he said, after landing near the person in the suit. Who was wearing a hardhat and carrying another.

"He may be here later, but I am your assigned guide for this project," said the man, smiling. He offered his hand. "John Johansson."

Malak shook hands, while resisting his natural reaction to such a generic name.

The facility was still under construction, but well underway. Enough that Johansson could show him what lay beyond the concrete lined opening to a below-ground section already completed, though not equipped. Malak donned the proffered hardhat without complaint; only a silent observation that his head was likely far sturdier.

"Sorry; regulations," said Johansson, with a slight smile and a shrug.

He led Malak to a battery-powered vehicle. Sitting in this with his wings out was a bit awkward, but Howard had noted that Malak was the person they wanted to see. Perhaps just for show, or moral support. Fortunately, the trip was short.

The cart approached what at first seemed like the entrance to an underground garage. However, after descending a considerable distance the two-lane tunnel opened out into an enormous and somewhat irregularly shaped chamber. Johansson stopped their vehicle near the middle of the vast room and exited. Malak followed as the man led the way out onto the bare and somewhat loose dirt in the middle of the well-lit chamber.

"We picked this location because of a large, dry cave with little native life," he explained, gesturing broadly at the huge room. "Once we reach that part of the construction, we'll build facilities down here for the worst cases. The excavation of this chamber was the first part of the project, though. If we couldn't take it back to sound rock far enough to put the highest-security cell block in here, there was no use continuing. Fortunately, we were able to. It's being left mostly alone, for now, while work proceeds on the surface."

Indeed, there were only a few hard-hatted workers in here, and they didn't seem to be doing much except staring at Malak. Something he was very much used to.

"Now, if you stand right here, you can hear and interesting sound effect."

Johansson carefully positioned Malak; then, smiling, he began backing away. Perhaps it was hubris, but Malak simply stood and watched as the man withdrew.

"We have and are installing measures which would be enough to hold even you!" said his guide. "For example..."

He gestured, and the hardhat suddenly gave a loud, distracting buzz. With his more-than-human reflexes Malak had time to sweep it off his head, before excruciating pain erupted in his sandled feet. Two of the workers in the huge chamber advanced on Malak, carrying what looked like giant fishhooks with wooden handles, as Johansson continued to back quickly away.

Malak cried out, and reflexively tried to pull away from the pain. That, though, only made the sensations worse. He looked down, to see that glowing hooks had curled out of the ground and around his feet, the barbed point of the right one actually piercing his flesh, going all the way through the sandal. Both hooks went back into the ground. Whatever of his flesh the glowing metal touched smoked and sizzled.

That was all the opportunity the pair of advancing men needed. They activated their own weapons, which began glowing like the hooks on and in Malak's feet. These they hooked into Malak's wings.

Malak screamed as the glowing hooks wielded by the men bit deeply into his wings, preventing advance or retreat. He went to his knees, trying to phase, but the barbed hooks held him. As the first pair retreated more men closed in, carrying additional glowing hooks. Malak's Adaptation power was trying to adjust his body to tolerate the hooks - the glow - but failing. Those responsible for preparing this assault had evaluated and planned for anything which he might do to free himself. Anything but what he actually did. Malak changed into Aaron.

With his wings no longer there, those two hooks fell harmlessly to the ground. This left only the hooks through and around his feet, greatly reducing his agony. Mostly able to think, now, he materialized his shield behind him, then formed a spear in each hand. These he threw ahead to the left and right respectively. The resulting explosions threw the men approaching from his front off their feet. Meanwhile, the shield protected his back.

Aaron closed his eyes, in spite of the pain thinking far more quickly and clearly than any of those attacking him or watching the effort from afar. This form was, indeed, somewhat weaker than his angelic variation, mainly due to lacking those mighty wings. However, there was an ability he had only in this form, one which he rarely demonstrated but which had served him well down through the decades. An ability to absorb, analyze and manipulate energy.

Aaron tried to absorb the foreign energy of the hooks, but it was too alien, too antithetical to his very nature. Instead, he quickly changed tactics and simply repelled it. Its incompatible nature now worked in his favor, making this easy. That done, he reached down - crying out yet again as the glowing metal attacked his hands - and yanked the hooks from his feet. The barbs of the right one passing backwards through his flesh were especially painful, but Aaron was of the "yank the bandage off quickly" school. He pulled so hard and fast that the mechanical devices which had manipulated the hooks came with them, trailing power and control cables and sparks. He tossed the now-dead hooks aside, then took a moment to heal himself. That done, he straightened, ready to deal more decisively with his attackers.

Malak's wings sprang out and he swept them in a circle as he spun. Attackers all around were sent hurtling through the air, including those who had thought themselves out Malak's reach. Some managed to briefly brush their glowing weapons against his feathered appendages, but none of the hooks bit in. Malak wasn't going to let that happen again. With the closest attackers now down, he began forming and launching spears.

One of Malak's spears found one of the cameras which had been hastily installed in the chamber to watch the attack. The spear destroyed it and the cable. In fact, the charge followed the wires back to the control room. What havoc it wreaked there Malak would find out later. For now, he used wings, spears and shield to disable all those in the chamber, making certain none were still able to fight.

That done, he flew down the tunnel to the left, where Johansson had fled. He was on full alert, and watching for traps and attacks. However, he found none. Apparently, whoever was behind this had been so certain of their hooks they didn't think a backup plan was necessary. They had almost been right.

Despite Malak's speed, Johansson made it far enough down the hallway to reach the first side room. He was frantically trying to close the door to it as Malak approached. Malak slid to a stop and used his left wing to slam to pocket door back into its recess. Knocking it off track in the process. A quick look inside revealed no obvious escape route. A bit longer look told Aaron - in spite of the damage done by the charge from his spear - that the monitors, desks and other accoutrements were all portable gear brought in and installed just for this action against him.

"Don't move," said Malak. "I'm already contacting Blackpool. He'll alert the Empowered Matters Agency. All of you will wait right here until they arrive."

There were multiple cries of protest and defiance against this. Mainly from people who claimed they were simply observing. However, the man who had brought Malak to the trap was closer and therefore better heard. He had lost his hardhat somewhere during the chase, now revealing his crew cut hair.

"The pain should have been unbearable!" he yelled. As if the fact that the angelic empowered man had escaped was an inexcusable wrong committed by him.

"Do you think," said Malak, quietly, "I am a stranger to pain?"

People from the Empowered Matters Agency arrived in short order, being already on site. They were mainly there to provide security for the construction workers and equipment at this stage, but they were, indeed, federal agents with arrest powers. Malak quickly explained what had happened and stepped aside.

"You are all under arrest," said the senior member among the agency personnel who had so quickly arrived.

"Now, hold on!" Johansson tried to explain, "this is all a misunderstanding! We were just demonstrating our prisoner control technology - something Malak had agreed to - and he panicked when it was more effective than he was expecting."

"That doesn't explain how you are on the site with forged documents!" snapped the older man. He turned to Malak. "We were already on alert, 'cause someone found Harold Petersen bound and gagged in a storage shed. Oh, he's fine, the worst of it was he had both legs fall asleep. He told us ahead of time you were coming to visit, and also that he was supposed to meet you himself, so we were wondering where he was. He didn't know anything about these jokers."

* * *

"They still haven't found out his real name," said Melody, to Aaron, later, over the phone to his home in Haven. "His fingerprints aren't on file, which puts the lie to his claim of working for the government."

"That's more than they've told Blackpool. He is trying to get a telepath in to see Johansson, since he's not cooperating at all with the investigators," said Aaron. He sighed, and Melody could almost see him rubbing his head in that endearing habit of his. "The prisoner wouldn't be told that there was someone reading his mind, in case he's had training in how to resist. Just have the usual interrogators - who won't be told, either - ask the usual questions. Any reasonably talented mind reader would pick up what he thinks but doesn't say. However, for whatever reason the people in charge of Johansson are reluctant to allow Blackpool to be involved."

"Well, I hope this is the other shoe you and Insight were expecting."

"Somehow, I don't think so." He sighed again. "No, I have a feeling there's something big, still coming down the pike. This incident - and whatever follow-up comes in response - is closer to business as usual. Though rather more effective than most attempts against me."

"That people would still hate you after all you've done," said Melody, with a sigh of her own. "Some of whom even blame you for the problems you solve."

"I didn't start this fire," said Aaron, sounding calm but determined. Perhaps even quietly angry. "However, I have done what I can to fight it. In spite of interference from those who did start it! As well as those who mistakenly welcome its deceptive warmth!"

"Well, just be careful," said Melody, a bit alarmed at that anger. "We need you around. No matter how much some people might disagree with that."

* * *

"We're not finished yet!" the big man declared to the handful of men with him in the small, comfortable room. That he would be reduced to holding such a meeting in his own den! "That bastard cost me my right-hand man, but I have others to help me. Some of you are here, but there are also others elsewhere. One of you will find someone who can build a trap which will hold Malak!"

"We all have a shared goal," said one of the other men, more quietly but with equal determination.

"I may have something," said a third man, a bit tentatively. "There's a scientist who claims to have developed a barrier which completely isolates things from the universe. I don't pretend to understand the physics, but it should let us capture Malak."

"Set up a meeting!" said the big man, emphatically.

Meanwhile, reports continued to come in of emergencies both natural and man-made, around the world. Some of which saw an angelic figure arrive to help.

* * *

The "scientist" was rather unkempt and a bit absent-minded. Which was fine, as long as he could deliver. The loss of so much of the big man's resources to the damnable false angel made doing this work harder, but not impossible. Unfortunately, the current prospect for making a trap which would hold an angel was being explained by someone who was barely coherent.

"You have to know the dimensions of the box before you can be certain you are thinking outside of it."

"Uh, yes," said the well-dressed but obvious flunky. This was the man from the small group meeting at the big man's house who had told them about this "scientist."

"Well, in defining the box, I came up with the idea for this project, to remove things from the box," said the beaming man, who was actually a top theoretical physicist. "While applying the mathematical tool of extremal surfaces to model an evaporating black hole, a strange thing happened. Early in the evaporation process, I found, as expected, that the entanglement entropy of the boundary of the extremal surface split what was inside from the rest of the universe. There are no hairy singularities. There was an absolute boundary between the inside and the outside, which was the majority of the universe. On the other side was a here-there-be-dragons realm about which the boundary had no information. The position of the quantum extremal surface was highly significant. It was located just inside the horizon of the singularity I was examining."

"You still haven't explained how this thing can hold Malak," said the heavy one, whom Dr. Pynchon had by now identified at the person in charge. He seemed irritated, bordering on angry.

Dr. Pynchon repressed an exasperated sigh. He had already explained. However, from his previous experience with people like this he could tell that the bossy individual suffered from an exaggerated impression of his own intelligence and education. Ignoring the fact that this man had sent his people to Pynchon to solve a problem beyond him, he would perceive any sign that Pynchon did not consider him at least an intellectual equal as criticism. Dr. Pynchon also had learned - the hard way - that people like the big man did not react well to criticism. No matter how well deserved. So, he needed to offer a simplified explanation.

"It's... it's a discontinuity in the structure of space," said Pynchon, trying desperately to find an analogy which these simpletons could envision. He had a sudden inspiration. "It's like a snow globe! The surface of the globe consumes no energy, but it is a barrier between what's inside and what's outside. In the case of the extremal surface, the only significant energy expenditure is in establishing the surface, with just a trickle needed thereafter to maintain it. The contents are irrelevant to that energy requirement. What's inside is completely isolated from our universe. The path integral closes to unity!"

He'd had them right up to that last sentence. Fortunately, what he'd said before that was enough.

"So it will hold him?" said the big man, hearing what he wanted to hear. "Excellent!"

* * *

Preparing the trap was not only expensive, it was absurdly difficult. They had to build and test this new technology, making sure it worked. Then they had to find a place where they could bait Malak into it. Finally, though, the trap itself was ready. Now, how to apply it...

Several plans were discussed in regard to this problem; most were discarded out of hand. Pynchon had no part in these discussions. Indeed, except for calls asking about the practicality of several locations and an occasional monetary benefit from the big man's henchman, he had no contact with the group. The physicist knew vaguely what they wanted his device for, but had little concern about that. He finally had the necessary funding to test his idea! Also, it wasn't like they could use the device to harm anyone. All it could do was isolate them.

Eventually, the plotters decided that the way to get Malak to come to them was to leak that their boss was holed up in a country mansion one of them knew about. There were multiple locations in and around the building where the device could be concealed. While its range was limited to roughly 125 meters there would be plenty of opportunity to capture Malak with it.

"What do we do if he shows up with friend?" said one of the men.

"We grab all of them!" said the big man.

"What if Blackpool or someone else shows up and not Malak?"

"Then they find nothing, and we reset the trap somewhere else!"