The Angel of Earth

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Fifteen

Aaron was actually working in his office at the Repository when the alert came in. The Middle East negotiations he had been a part of were finally over, much to Aaron's relief. He had been heard to joke that his feathers could now grow back, since he'd been pulling them out in frustration. He was currently spending all his time not used for dealing with emergencies here, in the Rockies. Even for some of the crises which required Malak's attention, he could use his duplicates. In addition to feeling a need to wait here for The Protectorate, he found having a military secretary to help deal with calls and mail - on top of his crew in Haven - very useful. Aaron was even sleeping most nights at the Repository. He made sure this was widely known, to avoid causing problems at Haven through his enemies. Blackpool made sure the whereabouts of Aaron/Malak were even more widely known. Including, by surreptitious methods, to The Protectorate. He had actually passed along far more than that. The advice the group received - provided through a string of intermediaries - was that if they arrived in a certain spot by a specific route they would not be detected until they moved out from it. All of which was pure fabrication.

Aaron was at his desk in his Repository office, a couple of hours after local Noon, when his phone rang. This was only a few days since he and Blackpool agreed to try and arrange for The Protectorate to attack where they wanted.

"Here they come," said Blackpool, over the phone line. "Clear radar signature. Otherwise running silent. No radio chatter; no transponder."

The weather was mostly clear, with only a few, high clouds. The area they had set up for the landing was in the lower part of the same valley in which the Repository was stationed near the head of.

Aaron had been surprised at the number and variety of empowered he and the federal agent were able to organize in just a few days. Mostly due to the work of Blackpool. Apparently, many people wanted to help Malak and/or wanted a piece of The Protectorate. All Blackpool had to do was let certain folks know that Malak needed help against that group, and quietly tell other people that there was a chance coming up to legally bloody The Protectorate's collective nose. Aaron thought his friend might be overdoing it. However, when he realized there were three hypersonic VTOL transports landing in the level area a few klicks downhill from the Repository he felt impressed with Blackpool's foresight. Even with Insight helping predict the response by The Protectorate, Blackpool had come uncannily close to matching their number. On top of that, the group he had assembled probably exceeded their opponents' total power level.

Blackpool insisted on going in first, and alone, after the hostile team began to debark from their vehicles. To give the intruders fair warning. As well as to allow the other defenders time to get into place.

The members of The Protectorate were fanning out in their accustomed order, preparing for an advance on the Repository, when their preparations were interrupted. Blackpool suddenly jumped onto an exposed boulder, between the leading edge of their formation and their destination.

"You are in violation of an FAA restricted air space," he called out, his voice quite loud though he had no obvious amplifier. "Reboard your craft and leave immediately! This is a restricted location!"

He was not only shouted down, not only jeered, but fired on.

Blackpool dove for the shadow at the base of the boulder, and reappeared in a deliberately curtained corner of the control room in the tower at the Repository. He moved quickly to the bank of radios and grabbed a mic.

"All volunteers, advance!"

At his barked command, people hidden among the rocks which lay between the Repository and the landing site stood and started toward The Protectorate force.

This included not only the empowered who had offered to help with this fight, but also some of the soldiers from the Repository. In fact, there were more of the men and women in uniform, and they went first, rifles out and ready. Their approach gave a bit of pause to some of The Protectorate, but not to their leader. Sneering, The Grand Protector contemptuously lifted into the air.

"I am supreme!" crowed The Grand Protector, beaming as he hovered above his array of forces, his hands spread as if to deliver a benediction. "I am over all. Bow down before me and bring me Malak in chains, or die!"

None of those advancing on his allies bowed. Therefore, he fired one of his energy blasts at the closest group of troops. The bolt was deflected by Malak's shield.

The angelic figure - already high above the battleground - became visible as his shield faded.

"If you want me, here I am!"

Immediately, The Grand Protector changed targets, and began firing at Malak.

* * *

Meanwhile, Blackpool was on a different radio, reporting the activity to his superiors. Mainly to be on the record. He wasn't just giving a play-by-play of the action - which he could view through the tower windows - to the people on the other end, he was also explaining his own motivation.

"The Protectorate are violating basic laws and Constitutional safeguards. The primary purpose of those protections is to shield the wrongly accused from the overly zealous and opportunists. They have repeatedly demonstrated they are both."

"Sir?" said one the the soldiers in the control tower. "You better look at this."

"This" was the radar, which normally was used to monitor both aircraft and the weather. According to what it currently showed, a major storm front was forming right over the area of the fight.

"Oh, shit," said Blackpool, dread rising. "One of The Protectorate is a weather manipulator."

Which one, though? There was nothing about this in the records!

Malak and The Grand Protector were definitely not the only combatants. They were not even the only ones on either side who could fly. Despite them both starting out well above the others involved, their maneuvering soon separated them, as others got in the way. Partly of this crowding was due to all the flyers being forced lower by the rapidly growing and lowering cloud cover.

The heat of the battle also often required that their attention be on something besides each other. Malak found himself repeatedly being diverted from his fight with The Grand Protector to aid his allies. The Grand Protector was also called on to help those of his team who found themselves in trouble. He didn't like this - and didn't always respond - but found himself devoting more of his attention and energy to attacking troops and defending people on his side than to annihilating Malak.

One of the first interventions Malak had to perform was putting his shield between a female archer from The Protectorate and some of the regular troops from the Repository. What made this particularly necessary was that her arrows exploded much like Malak's spears. He recognized her as Łuczniczka, who had taken her public name from a Polish legend

"This is not a fight you want," said Malak, in a loud, firm voice, as he landed between her and her targets and spread his wings.

"Pretty sure it is," said Łuczniczka, with a smirk.

She deftly drew and nocked an arrow, pulled the bowstring back and loosed in a smooth, quick sequence. Only she wasn't quick enough. Malak charged two spears. One took out the arrow; the other hit the ground at Łuczniczka's feet. She was literally thrown through the air by the resulting explosion. At the very least, she was stunned and out of the immediate fight.

"Zabby!" yelled a man in a white and steely blue outfit, who was fighting near her.

He turned his attention from icing non-empowered troops in place to Malak.

"Hey, you!" yelled Frosty. "Chill out!"

Malak swept his left wing around to block the icy burst. He then flexed it, sending shards of ice flying and making his attacker duck.

"How many have you killed with that attack?" demanded Malak, his tone as icy as Frosty's blast. "How many have you mourned?"

He advanced on Frosty, obviously angry, a spear with a brightly glowing tip forming in his hand.

Someone popped in behind Malak. He was already reacting when that person hit him at the base of his right wing. His passive sonar only gave Malak a short blip of waring. Then, the attacker was gone.

Combat teleporter, thought Malak.

Someone with that ability was one of the most dangerous people on the battlefield. The strike hurt, which was surprising. In fact, Malak decided he wouldn't even try take to the air again until he could heal himself. In the meantime, he had to deal with at least Frosty and the unknown person with the rapid sequential teleport ability. The latter also had what might have been armor-piercing strikes.

He again used his left wing to intercept a freezing blast from Frosty, the insulating value of his feathers helping greatly with this. As expected, the speedy teleporter took advantage of what he presumed to be Malak's distraction and popped in behind him. Malak spun around, swinging his ice-covered wing, flexing it as he moved to send ice shards hurtling at the attacker.

The teleporter, a slim man, was caught by surprise. He shied back and reflexively shielded his face from the spray. Malak continued the spin and caught him in the torso with the wing, to send him hurtling away. Malak continued that spin, until he came far enough around to hurl the readied spear at Frosty. Both attackers were now out of the fight. Malak took a moment to heal himself, then spread his wings to again take to the air. He didn't make it.

Malak suddenly cried out, and visibly sagged. Not far away, an innocuous-looking man suddenly became taller, as wings sprouted from his back and his clothes changed to robes and sandals. Malak quickly straightened, and looked at the source of the power drain. Mr. Average, for his part, had an odd look on his face. A look of... revelation. However, he, too, quickly recovered, shaking his head and getting back to business.

For just a moment the two winged men glared at each other across the battlefield. However, before the allies of Mr. Average could take advantage of the presumed halving of Malak's power, the rogue suddenly rolled his eyes back into his head and fell over, his recent changes reversing.

"Bit off a bit more than he could chew, I reckon," said Mysterious Pete, smiling, his presence revealed by the collapse of Mr. Average. "Not used to his new powers, yet. Made him easy prey for an attack from behind."

Malak tossed a quick salute of acknowledgment to the serape-wearing, barefoot man and jumped back into the fray.

There was a flurry of activity to Malak's right. He took off, and provided close air support for several non-empowered soldiers being hard pressed by a costumed pair from The Protectorate. With them both down, he again prepared to fly higher and re-engage The Grand Protector. Again, he was interrupted. This time by a sudden burst of mental static.

Malak shook this off, and decided that finding the source of the psionic attack took priority. Diving a bit to fly low and fast with wings outstretched, Malak swept his gaze around the group until he came to the mentalist, standing alone near one of the transport planes. He knew of SuperMind by image and reputation. Now that he'd had a sample of the man's power, he realized that the telepath's abilities had been underreported. No wonder so many government leaders had fallen under his sway. He felt a surge of rage at this violation of mental sanctity.

"You," said Malak, turning towards him.

The simple mental blast had been less effective than SuperMind had assumed it would be. SuperMind therefore actively tapped into Malak's thoughts, looking for what the older empowered planned to do and for a lever to use in controlling him. He had never considered that someone with a greater than human force of personality might have a greater than human force of will. With a corresponding greater than human capacity for anger.

SuperMind gave a cry of mixed pain and alarm, grabbing at his head as he quickly broke contact. He still had enough awareness to note that Malak had landed and was walking unhurriedly towards him, obviously furious.

"Your schemes wouldn't have worked if others hadn't already been selfish and at best neutral in regard to following the law," said Malak, minimizing the man's achievements in corrupting so many. "That includes your teammates. You, though... You saw that they were willing to use their powers for their own, short-sighted benefit and pushed them into doing just that. You not only made them go further, faster than they would have otherwise, you coordinated those abuses committed by the team and influenced those in government who might have reined you in."

SuperMind looked frantically around. His usual plan of staying away from the physical fight meant there was now no-one close to come to his rescue. He began backing uncertainly away from the approaching figure, towards the planes.

"Nowhere to run," said the angelic figure, tone ominous. "Nowhere to hide. Your powers useless against me. What will you do?"

SuperMind was arguably the biggest threat The Protectorate presented. That was because few people - empowered or not - had a defense against his power, and it had no visible effect combined with a considerable range. Malak very deliberately guided him into an action which would take him out of action for the foreseeable future.

SuperMind turned his powers on himself, turning off his mind to avoid a situation he could not deal with. He collapsed.

Malak quickly checked to make sure the plainly-dressed man was actually, and only, unconscious. Then, with a sigh, he rose and turned back to the battle.

Several members of The Protectorate, hurrying towards the planes in response to SuperMind's desperate call for help, now stumbled to a halt in confusion. Perhaps realizing for the first time in months that they had been acting very out of character. At least, very unlike how they thought of themselves as acting.