The Angel of Chicago

Part Ten: A Major Disturbance

by

Rodford Edmiston

"Those of us who attended the teleconference decided on multiple approaches to deal with the revelations from those documents Blackpool provided," said Aaron, as the trio prepared supper. "That approach being necessary because we still don't know what any of the goals actually are, beyond 'turn more people against the empowered.'"

"God, I haven't even gotten that far yet," said Melody, sounding exhausted. She looked down at the carrots on the cutting board, resting her hands on the kitchen counter in front of her, knife tightly held in the right one. "I'm still working on figuring out what these documents actually say and telling other people about that."

"What did all those empowered brains come up with?" said Arielle, who was preparing the onions. "I just hope this time they remember to ask people to help, instead of simply expecting them to comply with their idealized plans."

Melody sensed a great deal of animosity in that last bit.

"One thing which they did insist was essential is that we police our own more diligently in the near term," said Aaron, as he put the beef roast in the pan. He began adding seasonings and water. "That a force of volunteers keep themselves available to act against empowered who are misbehaving. Because it appears that not only does the conspiracy involve blaming us for crimes we had nothing to do with, but also inciting the more excitable empowered into committing offenses. I'm going to need the rest of those vegetables, soon."

"And you volunteered for that," said Arielle, rolling her eyes as Melody resumed chopping the carrots. "Uh, the policing, I mean."

"I can be anywhere on Earth in less than half an hour, and I'm both persuasive and formidable," he said, with a modest smile. "I can also heal the injured, be they participants in violence or bystanders."

"Healing was one of your first powers, wasn't it," said Melody, remembering her need for background. She handed Aaron the carrots.

"Yes. At first I could only heal when in my angelic form, but I soon learned to heal like this, as well."

"I know some empowered can cure disease, but the references say you can only heal injuries." Melody laughed. "'Only,' she says!"

"I can, indeed, heal illnesses these days," said Aaron, nodding and looking solemn. "The only reason I tell you that is that there are many who are far better at healing than I am. Even fixing a broken arm takes something out of me. Those who heal through devices or nostrums need far less effort and can help far more than I can. Some can even revive the recently dead, although that is much more common in modern medical practice."

"Well, my editor really wants me to interview Blackpool, since he's the one who actually acquired those papers. When will that be possible?"

"That is up to him," said Aaron, sternly, as he finished adding the last of the vegetables. "He is a surprisingly private person underneath that mask. He's not one of those who put a costume on for notoriety, but to maintain his anonymity while doing his job."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he's already gone," said Arielle, smirking.

"Wait, what?! Already?!"

"I'll ask Doc Lisowski to pass along your request," said Aaron, smiling. "No promises. It's up to Blackpool."

He opened the oven door with a flourish and shoved the covered pan inside.

* * *

"It's times like this I wish the Futurists were still around," said Arielle, as they cleaned up after supper.

"The which?" said Melody.

"You may recall that a group of some of the most potent - especially those who were mentally powerful - of the early empowered left the Earth in the late Forties," said Aaron. Melody noted that his expression was carefully neutral. "They saw how much better the world could become if people would only work for that, and were disillusioned at how even most empowered preferred to focus on their personal goals. 'What's the world ever done for me?' was a common attitude, even among the superhumanly intelligent."

"I do remember reading about that," she said, nodding. "They didn't publicize it or get preachy about why they were leaving. They just left, and if anyone asked, those who knew them gave varying explanations, depending on how willing they were to defend those who were involved."

"That was a group of real miracle workers," said Arielle. She sighed. "Even back in the Twenties, they came up with plants which could feed the starving, miracle cures, computation machines... We could definitely still use them."

"Yeah, I've read about them," said Melody, nodding again. "Some of their inventions are still used."

"They found a planet they thought was either livable or could be made livable around Delta Pavonis," said Arielle. "They built a big ship which used a combination of gadgets and powers to operate and... just left."

"I lost a lot of friends," said Aaron, quietly. "Supremely competent people whose idealism simply wasn't matched by patience and determination."

"Do you know if they made it?"

"Oh, yes," said Aaron, nodding. "They left communication devices here with friends and occasionally send updates. Their path has not been easy, but most are still alive and their population is growing."

"I wonder how the world might be if they had stayed," said Melody, quietly.

* * *

Melody got the go ahead to speak with Blackpool just after lunch the next day. As it turned out, the empowered crime fighter wanted to tell his story. His two conditions were that Melody make no mention of his legal identity or show a photograph of him out of costume.

"They won't tell me the former," she said, nodding. "I didn't bother to bring a camera on this trip. I was expecting any photos used with my articles to be from stock."

She smiled.

"I'm also a terrible photographer."

Blackpool, nodded, face expressionless. Melody wondered how much of that was training and how much just his nature.

"I'm currently persona non grata at the Agency, though that is completely unofficial," he said, voice calm, even and formal, after Melody sat in the chair beside his bed. "There are no charges against me, no formal arrest warrant, though I am wanted for questioning. However, I believe my immediate superior has either been arrested or killed and suspect that someone influential would like me to be next. I would appreciate you mentioning D'arsonval, by the way; if he is still alive that might pressure those holding him to reconsider their actions."

"You have my word I will do what I can to learn what happed to Mr. D'arsonval," said Melody. She settled into her chair and opened her notepad. "I actually met you once before, briefly, along with your supervisor, at a press conference for Secretary of State Gambolle, last year."

"I'm afraid I don't remember."

"Well, I was one of many reporters in the pool," said Melody, with a shrug. "All right. As I understand it, you became involved in this due to wishing to see a problem with the security at the Empowered Reality Television Awards properly handled."

"Yes. My report made it clear that Mannequin was only able to act so easily due to a lack of both personnel and plans for dealing with problems. When I heard there would be no followup I thought that was just standard bureaucratic avoidance of responsibility. I pursued the matter myself, and soon found that the person - Walter Beerman - above the person in charge of security - Brent Lawrence - wanted the matter covered up. I thought that if I investigated on my own - I have considerable latitude in my choice of investigations - that I could force the admission of fault and improvement in security."

"Only that didn't work."

"No. Orders from high up elsewhere in the government prevented my agency from acting on my information. However, as it turned out, I wasn't the only one distressed over the lax management techniques of Assistant Director Beerman. Several of my informants told me personal accounts of similar episodes going back decades, and two told me where to find documents supporting their claims. One of them - a woman who had far more than a mere professional grievance against Beerman - told me of a document repository with records which would provide information about several questionable projects he had been involved with during his nearly forty years in federal service."

"At what point did you realize that Mr. Beerman was anti-empowered?"

"I knew that even before the awards ceremony," said Blackpool. "What I didn't know was the extent of his bigotry. Or that he and several like-minded others were actively plotting against the empowered."

He described his actions at the storeroom, his attempts to report to his superior, his decision to disseminate the information on his own, the destruction of his home. Though he left out details on that last which would have made it easy to identify him, he knew that was still possible with the information he was giving Melody. He was trusting her to honor her promise and also to be cautious about what she revealed.

"I read about that fire!" said Melody, shocked. "I knew it was arson, but not that it was connected with this! Several people died in that!"

"Another crime they must answer for."

They spent nearly three hours, mostly just talking, Melody sometimes consulting her notes or asking a specific question about her copy of the documents. There was no time limit except what he set; Blackpool was almost fully recovered, and was primarily being held for observation, to make sure he was properly on the way to recovery. Melody had the impression that although he desired to get back on the case, he was glad to have something to occupy his time until his release.

"I think that's about it," she said, finally. "Before I finish, though, I would also like to get your ideas about what this big plot is. Does it have anything to do with that illegal stockpile of toxins?"

"I don't have any hard information on that," said Blackpool, even more seriously. "However, that is the way to bet."

* * *

Halberd had quick reflexes, but he couldn't fly or otherwise transport himself quickly. The time he spent finding where Crunch was going to be and traveling there could have been time he spent cooling down. However, not only was that not his nature, more information on the trash talk directed against him by Crunch kept coming in, keeping his anger stoked. When he actually arrived on the wide lawn in front of the Shriners' hospital he appeared calm, and was incredibly focused. Finally, after years of mistreatment, insults and dissing, he was going to show that bastard who was best.

Crunch, meanwhile, was actually enjoying himself. He and bunch of other performer empowered were visiting a children's hospital, and he loved kids. As the group of celebrities walked towards the front door following their visit, Crunch moved in close to his agent.

"Hey, Marcella, this was a good idea," he said, quietly, as he continued to smile and wave at staff and patients. "I had a good time and actually lifted some spirits."

"Remember, it's all tax deductible," said Marcella, who was far more mercenary than Crunch.

Once they got outside, though, they noticed several people staring at something.

"Is that Halberd?" said Crunch, confused, as he saw the hulking, costumed figure standing in the sun. "What's he doing here?"

"He's calling you out, bro!" said Bolter, cheerfully. "Says it's payback time!"

Crunch was in a good mood, and didn't want to fight. More, his agent was pulling on him, trying to get him to go back inside before Halberd saw him. However, the other empowered man, growing impatient, walked to a parked car, lifted it and threw it at the hospital building.

Crunch put on a burst of speed, ran outside and leapt at the car. He couldn't quite stop it, but he made it fall short, himself dropping onto the drive which went to the entrance.

"Are you nuts?!" yelled Crunch, as he nimbly rolled back to his feet. "There are kids in there!"

"Yeah, and I'm gonna show them what a pathetic fucker you really are!"

"What's wrong with you?"

As an answer, Halberd charged in, swinging. This was no scripted showpiece; he expected this to be a quick, easy fight. However, Crunch was also an experienced brawler - had been even before the chemical accident which had empowered him - and nimbly spun away from the attack. He stepped back, holding his hands up.

"C'mon, man. Not in front of the kids. You want to fight, let's..."

Halberd screamed his fury, and lunged again. Crunch realized he didn't have much choice. One thing he could do was move quickly away from the building, well out onto the carefully manicured lawn, as he evaded his attacker's repeated punches. Halberd followed quickly, but warily.

The two titans circled for a few moments, sizing each other up, looking for an advantage, much like Grecian wrestlers. Then, as if on cue, they both jumped forward.

* * *

Melody's second-last day at Haven was supposed to be spent mainly on cleanup and consolidation. That is, making sure she had what she needed before heading back home. In fact, much of her time was spent relaxing with Arielle, the two of them just walking around and sharing each others' company.

"So much has happened in the last week," Melody said, as she and Arielle sat under a shade tree on the edge of the town pond. "It hardly seems real."

"Oh, it was real," said Arielle, with a laugh. "Sometimes too real. I..."

She stopped and seemed to listen for a moment, then quickly moved out from under the obscuring leaves of the tree to peer at something in the sky. She looked worried.

"That was Dad, going somewhere in a hurry. I wonder what's happened..."

"We better get to the town hall and find out," said Melody, standing, her reporter sense tingling.

As it happened, Joe Blank met them on the way, having been sent to find them.

"Aaron got a call that two empowered were fighting at a children's hospital and took off," said Joe. "Crunch and Halberd. This was no pretend match, either. They both are out for blood."