The Angel of Earth

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Eighteen

They needed three attempts, each with a different method of providing the bogus information, before Malak himself arrived at the location the conspirators had chosen. This was a clearing in woods privately owned by a politician who had repeatedly opposed efforts to reign in the empowered. This way, whatever happened with the capture of Malak, the big man could have petty revenge against the woman.

* * *

"I may have some information on that group behind the attempt on you at the prison construction site," said Melody. She was on the phone with Aaron, who was at his office in Haven. The reporter gave a short laugh. "You need a teletype or something. I wasn't sure this was important enough to call you at work."

"It sounds like it is," said Aaron. Not mentioning that he had several volunteers who checked various teletype newsfeeds to keep him appraised of world events. He even had a direct feed from the White House. The latter only recently installed, at the chemical Repository. "Please, continue."

"Are you familiar with Dolores Springer?"

"Definitely. One of my few overt supporters in the US Congress."

"A groundskeeper for one of her properties reported unusual activity on a little-used section of land she owns. Something she didn't authorize. There were contractors renovating a carriage house. They showed the groundskeeper the work orders. They seemed to be properly filled out, but Congresswoman Springer knew nothing about them, even though her signature was on the contract! By this time the workers were gone, of course.

"I needed some digging to uncover that one of the owners of the company doing the work is owned by an anti-empowered businessman. The groundskeeper discovered they've also been installing some sort of unspecified equipment in the woods nearby."

"That does sound suspicious, though I don't see any connection to the prison attack," said Aaron, nodding even though he knew she couldn't see him. "Perhaps a clumsy attempt to discredit her and/or other empowered supporters. It definitely needs to be investigated."

"Yes, but I'm swamped right now," said Melody. "I told Blackpool, but he said he can't look into it any time soon personally, and his bosses don't think it's suspicious."

"I, fortuitously, am at the moment free of urgent commitments," said Aaron. "I'll let you know what I find."

"Just be careful," urged Melody.

"Don't worry. Once burned, twice shy."

* * *

Malak was not incautious. He approached the location invisibly and indirectly. Whatever work had been taking place on the property seemed over by the time he arrived. Malak saw no-one else in the area. The old carriage house had been modified into a dwelling most of a century before. He didn't go inside, but from what he saw of the outside and through the windows the work had simply been to make minor repairs and update the living quarters. So, he would next check what had been done in the woods.

The second location was not difficult to find. There was both a fresh footpath and vehicle tracks from the drive at the carriage house into the nearby woods. At the apparent focus of the activity there the ground had been disturbed and carefully resodded. However, the diggers hadn't even tried to match the natural growth which they had disturbed, just put down the same sort of sod which had been placed on the damaged part of the lawn at the carriage house. Most likely, the people who had done the work hadn't known the purpose of the job. They had simply been told what to do by someone who had never been there. The result was obviously a trap. One which Malak did not approach.

Still invisible, from ground level at what he assumed was a safe distance from the disturbed area, Malak produced one of his duplicates well above. He had it fly in, circle the trees overhead, then descend. Though expecting a trap, he was still surprised at the suddenness of the activity this produced, as well as the range at which it occurred. The duplicate vanished - with a substantial disturbance - while the doppleganger was well above the ground, taking some overhead growth with it. Interestingly, though it was faint, he still had contact with the duplicate.

Malak waited patiently nearby, remaining invisible. Within moments two men arrived to check the results.

"Whoah. I think it worked," said one, pulling up a piece of sod and brushing dirt away from something. "This shows around a hundred kilos in the trap, and that's pretty close to what we know Malak is."

"We got 'im!" crowed the other. "First we call the Doc, so he can verify. Then the boss. He'll notify the big boss."

* * *

Over an hour was needed for "the Doc" to arrive, and check the trap. The two men enthusiastically assured him they had seem Malak fly downwards toward the trap, and suddenly disappear when they triggered it. The "boss" arrived soon after. After receiving assurances from the Doc, he contacted his boss. Who arrived in just under another two hours.

During this time Malak received a few calls for assistance on his earpiece, but none were major and others covered most of them. He had been sure to alert the necessary people ahead of time that he would be busy for a while. He remained motionless, invisible, near the site.

The heavyset man was skeptical.

"How do you know he's in there?"

The minions repeated what they had observed.

"Can we look, to make sure?"

"No," said Dr. Pynchon, firmly. "Of course not. Not unless you want to let him out. If we could see what was in the containment that would mean it wasn't working. The only thing we can measure is the change in total mass. Said change being consistent with Malak's known mass."

"What if it's not him, though?!"

"Boss, he hasn't been seen anywhere in the world in several hours," said his immediate underling. "Despite calls for help directly to him."

"So we got him," said the big man. He abruptly did a little dance. While chanting, with increasing breathlessness, "We got him! We got him! We got him!"

"So, uh, what do we do with him, now?" said the underling.

"Let 'im starve!" shouted the big man, triumphantly.

"He can supposedly do without food," said the Doc, helpfully. "Air, as well."

"Then let him die of loneliness! I don't care! We got 'im and we're keeping him bottled up!"

"Uh, actually, we only need to let this run for a few hours to confirm that the discontinuity is complete," said the "Doc," looking increasingly uncomfortable. "There's no reason..."

"As long as we keep the power on, he can't get out, right?" said the upper boss. "Well, we'll make sure it never goes off. We'll install solar panels and everything!"

"No need to go to all that trouble," said Malak, becoming visible and stepping out into view. "By the way, I've already called law enforcement. The word I have is that they're parking at the carriage house and getting out of their cars to come here."

"No, that's not possible!" said Pynchon, incredulous. "That was a complete barrier!"

"You neglected entanglement, which generates instantaneous, nonlocal events," said Malak, speaking of his contact with the duplicate, though well aware that the physicist might well take it otherwise. "Your device creates a discontinuity in space-time, but space-time is not the base level of reality. It emerges from the underlying plenum."

"Ah!" said Dr. Pynchon, eyes widening in revelation. "Of course! A true stasis would require a stoppage of time, as well!"

"Would somebody please kill these idiots before they bore me to death with their technobabble?" screamed the big man.

"You are not killing anyone," said Malak, looking around sternly to reinforce this. "In fact, when the people I called get here you will all surrender peacefully. That includes you, Dr. Pynchon, unfortunately."

"I can make a good case for being in fear for my life if I didn't do what they said," he replied, seeming unconcerned. He offered his hand to the angelic figure. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry I took part in this. I am also very glad you figured a way out of it."

"As am I," said Malak, gravely taking the physicist's hand.

* * *

That was definitely not the end of the matter. After the big man was arrested, he and his people were thoroughly investigated. He turned out to be named Gustav Humboldt.

"No wonder he never gave his name," said Blackpool, dryly. His tone turned angry. "Well, at least we now know who crewcut was working for. Another group which is violating the law. By taking upon itself the task to remove the 'threat' of the empowered. Humboldt, by the way, is a grandson of German immigrants, yet he is outspokenly anti-immigration."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to be in on the his interrogation," said Aaron. "I have... questions for him."

"Understandable," said Blackpool. "They tried to have you, well, taken out of service, after all. However, neither of us should be involved in the initial investigation. I'll try to get you access to him later in the process."

* * *

Eventually, Blackpool and Malak were, indeed, allowed to question Humboldt. Mostly because the official interrogations were completed and the overall investigation into his activities well underway. When they did ask questions of the man, the two empowered were on one side of a table, with four federal law enforcement interrogators from three different agencies. On the other were Humboldt and his three attorneys. The interview was of limited utility for Blackpool and Malak.

Mostly, the lawyers stated, flatly, that their client would not answer the questions asked. For the rest they required clarifications. A few Humboldt simply didn't want to answer.

Getting him to explain his motivation was difficult. The questioners had to remove any mention of illegal acts, first. When Humboldt finally did explain himself, the result was an incoherent ramble of conspiracy theories, long-debunked ideas about evolution and simple greed.

"Oh, this is rich," said Malak, finally. "You are part of an elitist group which exists to remove the influence of the empowered. Yet you ignored The Protectorate, one of the most intrusive and dangerous empowered groups which have ever existed. You are also anti-immigrant, even though you are no more than three generations from immigrants."

"They did our work for us!" the man screamed. "Now we have to do it ourselves!"

"No comment," said Blackpool.

* * *

"Well, that was unproductive," said Malak, as he and Blackpool walked down the corridor towards security station afterwards.

"Actually, it was very productive," said the federal agent. "You have to know how to interpret, but he gave us a lot of important information."

They soon reached the yard outside the public front to the building. Malak spread his wings with a grateful sigh.

"Well, give Melody my regards."

"She again sends her apologies for sending you into that trap."

"Well, I actually didn't enter the trap. Partly because she also urged me to be careful. Anyway, I'm off to help with hurricane relief in India."

"Good luck."

* * *

That evening, as part of the day's wrap-up, Blackpool had a meeting at the Repository with the Brains Trust, as he mentally labelled those working on the quantum computer. He considered their interpretation of what the device reported to be more important that what it actually said. Which, despite years of work on that device and its predecessors, was still not giving messages in plain language. For any language. However, one thing was clear; official opposition to the empowered in the US was increasing. Despite the elimination of the influence of SuperMind.

"You would think that with SuperMind captured and too drugged to use his powers, that the influence against us would stop," muttered Blackpool. "Instead, it seems to be getting worse."

"You think that's bad," said CornFed, sourly, "Insight has gone from indirect but decipherable, to cryptic, to gobbledygook! Some of the other researchers are starting to mutter that we need to scrap it, figure out what's wrong, and start fresh with the next iteration!"

"That seems the logical action," said Multi, firmly.

"I think it's just as confused by the continuing problems as we are," said CornFed, glaring at him. "It predicted things would get better, as we did, and doesn't understand why they haven't. Meanwhile, we can't enlighten it. So it is increasingly confused."

"I'm going to check on some of the last coherent warnings it gave," said Blackpool. "Maybe I'll find something connected with them which explains the change in content."

* * *

Aaron got a semi-panicked call from Melody that evening.

"Blackpool is missing," she said, without preamble, as soon as he picked up the receiver in his den in Haven. "He told people at the Repository and his agency he was going to check on some things - without any specifics, naturally - and nothing since then. I'm starting to get worried."

"I'll do some checking of my own and get back to you," promised Aaron.

* * *

Melody was surprised to hear the knocking on her balcony door not long after. She was not surprised that the person knocking was Aaron.

"I should take you to the Repository," he said, looking worried. "I don't have anything firm to offer about your husband's absence, but the fact that nobody - including Insight - can find him is worrying. There's also a concern expressed by several people that whoever targeted him might come after you next. If you're there you will be better protected and able to participate directly in the search. You should pack a bag for a few days."

"All right," said Melody, after a few seconds of hard, quick thinking. "I can call my boss tomorrow and let him know. Just give me a moment. I'm really glad right now I don't have a cat or plants."

* * *

Taking a trip in Malak's arms was always an event. Unfortunately, Melody only seemed to go through the experience when there was a dire need. Once at the Repository Aaron made sure she was settled into the guest quarters he had arranged for her before allowing her any visitors. This gave Melody a chance to recover from her abrupt change of location and compose herself.

Melody's friends at the installation were both serious and supportive. Even though most supposedly did not know that Melody and Blackpool were married, they were very concerned for her, as well as him. They gathered together in the small living room of her cabin that same evening.

"I suspect that some members of the Protectorate who are still free are behind both Blackpool's disappearance and Insight's confusion," said CornFed, scowling as she paced an irregular path around furniture and occupants.

"They aren't all in jail," said Multi, nodding. He was seated, and seemed much more calm than her. "Most are, and their properties - including bank accounts - have been seized, but there have been persistent clues that the feds didn't get all of either."

"Why go after Blackpool, though?" said Melody, also seated, almost desperately. "He was hardly involved in taking them down."

"Well, he was pretty involved," said CornFed, pausing to put a hand on the reporter's shoulder. "After all, it was his idea to lure them here, for the big fight."

"Also, whoever is behind this might have decided to go after him first," said Mannequin, for once serious, "as a warmup for going after Malak."

"I still think it's Humboldt's friends," said Melody, firmly. "They still haven't all even been identified."

"We're checking all likely suspects, as well as looking for signs for Blackpool directly," said Aaron, managing to sound confident and reassuring. "We'll find him. We'll also find whoever is responsible. Just keep in mind that he might have gone to ground on his own."

"Thank you," said Melody, actually sniffing a bit before putting on a brave face.

"I still think you better continue staying here for now," said Aaron.

"No argument," said Melody.