This action might not be possible to undo. Are you sure you want to continue?
by J D Marksman
Returning to work after that compulsory week long vacation everyone at TelCom Network had to take was bad
enough, but knowing that four people had lost their lives on this very floor while discussing a rumor about
unexplainable deaths just three weeks prior was another thing altogether. It was some guy, probably the same one
who was responsible for wiping out a whole bank full of customers then slipped out from right under the police's
very noses as they surrounded the place.
In here, the rampaging blood bath had wrecked the carpet, the walls, the ceiling and cubicles not very far from one
man in particular. After finding his station just as he had left it a week ago, except for the bullet holes of course.
Turning, he glanced at the little mirror he had strategically positioned so that that annoying cubby-neighbor of his
could not come up behind him unannounced. Immediately, John Davidson began to feel overwhelmed with feelings
of uselessness and guilt for not being able to do something for those poor souls. "What could I have done to save
them," he murmured himself, "I would have been just as dead if I tried, so you have to get control of these emotions,
man or it will destroy you."
Living in a city of such great technologies, one would think they would be sheltered from the mass of criminal
activity, but in this day and age, no one is spared the assault of attack. Breaking into his reverie, he hears, "That's
what you get for being in a big city of southern California, dude." Tony, his annoying co-worker from the cubicle
next to his said abruptly after seeing the sorrow, the concern, and the frustration on John's face.
John countered with, "What do you mean, Tony?"
"Ah man, can't you see this job and place is killing ya?" Leaning on the top edge of the divider wall casually he
continues. "It's like I said from the beginning, two years ago man, this is not the place for you. You get affected by
just about everything. You're too kind-hearted to brave the storm of life in the big city where all the big criminals
"Oh, come off it Tony, I can too handle it! It's just... well, these past few weeks have been kinda hard on me, ya
know. After all, I nearly bought the big one right here, and we both know it." John blurted out defensively.
"Hey, woe there buddy, I'm on your side, not the shrinks the company sent you to last month. Remember that," he
countered, "when the chips start falling and ya need someone to back ya up."
"Yeah, you're right, I'm sorry for taking it out on you like that."
"That's ok Johnny boy, that's what friends are for," he quipped. "Hey, I have to run off for awhile, why don't we
have lunch later on today."
"Yeah, ok. That sounds like a good idea. Thanks."
After Tony rushes off on his errand, John slumps in his chair for a brief respite hoping no one else took notice then
headed for the men's room to freshen up abit. Feeling sorry for himself, he looks into the mirror for encouragement.
"Well, John, four days ago was your 34th birthday and you still haven't told a soul. You, have nothing really to show
for it but a few stories that were placed on the internet." Their short lifespan was due to the fact that one of his
readers removed them without saying why. "You have no social life to speak of. What do you have to say for
yourself?" He asked the one that stared back at him. "Come on John boy, snap out of it. After all, things couldn't
get worse that they have, could they?" The reflection in the mirror was not something he cared to see these days --a
troubled but an everyday, so-so face. The silence was not reassuring to him. Coming away from the mirror, he
leaves the men's room with a foul taste in his mouth and a sinking feeling in the gut. He stops as he gets a weird
premonition, stares off into nowhere. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he continues on toward his cubicle to
finish an overdue story.
Settling into his chair and facing the console that sat humming silently and awaiting more input, he thought "what
else can I put into this story before turning it in for appraisal. The bad guy's out of action and justice prevails once
more. What more could there be?" Suddenly, he hits upon an idea that would, he hopes, spur an interest in the
reader to want to read the next issue of his story.
"Core!" Phalor shouted in his mike.
"What is it? Did you find something?"
"Come here, quick!"
Core was the quiet, analytical, thinker while Phalor happened to be the excitable one which at this very moment is
banging the arm rest as if that would speed up Core's actions to come where he sat. "Come on." He rasped.
"All right. What is it this time." Phalor is doubtful there is anything new this time around. It's been like this for
nearly a decade which was the last time they thought a likely candidate was found but wasn't. They been scouting
this little blue planet with little success at finding a good candidate for their assigned project.
"I think this is the one. I really do!"
"Give me the status on him." Core says.
"The individual is a male of 34 cycles, is what the Earthy's call Caucasian. He resides just outside the major target
area but works within it. He's a bit over five of their measures. No siblings or parents survived the last planet quake
ten cycles ago. He is what they call a fantasy writer. His stories are of beings like themselves who possess
incredible powers. The most outstanding and qualifying characteristic --he possesses a desire to rid his planet of the
injustice that pervades to its very core even though he is incapable of doing anything."
"Why is that?" Core asks.
"He is somewhat of a timid man who is wishes he were different."
"According to many of the citizens down there, they would call him a 'softy' and a 'visionary' because of his kind
heart. Many of these people feel that anyone who still believes in justice for all is considered an idealist and a fool.
His believes in a being called God, a tradition among a sporadic few lately. As a result, this causes him to feel that
the criminal have no rights once they break their universal code of conduct, but should pay for their criminal activity
instead of going free unpunished. He believes in an 'eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth' philosophy."
"A real wannabe hero of his kind, it looks like." Core says. "Well, it's the best we've come across in decades since
our arrival and we can't spend any more time looking for another. Headquarters just flashed us about returning to
base in the next cycle turn-around, so let's do it. I'll contact HQ and give them the rundown to see if we might be
allowed more time to stay, considering the present situation."
"All right! I'll get preparations underway for translation." Whirling about in his seat, Phalor gives up a whoop of
delight. "Man, oh man. Are we going to have fun with this world!" He grins, jumps about in his seat, and starts
making an unusual sound he picked up from these Earth's.
Off in a private compartment of the ship, there is a heated conversation.
"...I repeat, after translation you will not remain more than one of their weekly cycles. Is that clear, Scoutmaster?"
Councilman Maneer stated from the comfort of his private chamber's comm station. Core began to look away and
bored by having to hear this same speech the Councilman have been giving for the past few assignments handed out.
"We may have already used more resources and time than we should have on this secret project. Remember, their
world is primitive, they have been surrounded by misguided fools since their technology abruptly began after their
20th century. We cannot allow them to detect you two and cause more chaos." With this his demeanor changed to a
more warmer attitude. "Make sure the candidate is imputed the maximum capacities we supplied you with. There is
a new monitor stored in the compartment marked 'Slash A'. Set it in their lunar's orbit with the proper shields
activated. We don't want them to discover what is up there before acquisition is made by the new candidate. Is that
"Yes, Councilman." Core replied grudgingly.
"Very good. You may proceed. Afterwards, I expect you back at HQ by one fifth of our cycles..."
With that over with, Core breathed a sigh relief. Then abruptly Councilman Maneer speaks once more in a personal
manner... "Safe journey my son."
Core pauses for a moment before replying. "I'll see you then father."
As John was driving home alone, he continued to have this nagging feeling that something was about to happen. A
delivery truck blares at him and yells at the top of his lungs. "Move out of the way or next time I'll run over you."
Shaking out of his reverie he grips the wheel tighter. "Whew, that was a close one. Another foot my way and I
would've been a grease spot." He chuckles at the thought of becoming a grease spot and the rescue squad trying to
figure out which was heads and which was tails.
Before he could do anything else, the earth starts trembling. He looks around to see what could be making that
happen. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he proceeds southeast to his suburban apartment. Casually he says,
"These quakes are becoming more frequent these days. A regular shake-n-bake town." But deep down he feared the
quakes -- ever since the big one ten years ago that took his parents and sister, he has felt skittish when they occurred.
Finally he can relax from the turmoil of city life, he thinks. Turning on TV and switching to the world network news
channel, he watches as another criminal is released from court from a lack of evidence. With a deep sigh of grief
and resignation, he shakes his head and thinks, "Will justice ever prevail?"
At this very moment, high up in orbit directly above John Davidson's home, there is an air of excitement permeating
throughout the ship.
"All systems are go," says Phalor excitedly.
"I read you." Replied Core. "Ten sectars from...my... mark."
As the counter ticks off the numbers, even Core is overwhelmed with expectation as he awaits the transformation to
take place down below. Viewing this event on the long rang viewer, the man named John Davidson is unaware of
what is to come. "Stay put fella, don't move off from that lounger. Just a few more sectars."
Soon the ship's tractor beam zooms down below gripping the human subject. Outside the range of human range to
see, a beam focuses on John as he is frozen in his seat looking for all the world like a scared rabbit trapped in a tight
spot by a hunting dog. He shouts, "What's... hap...pen...ing... to... me?" As each word and syllable is uttered, the
intensity of his words change from a high tenor to a solid baritone, but nobody hears him because the neighbors
have not yet come home, for it was only 2pm eastern standard time.
Even before the words escaped his lips, he feels his muscles expanding and solidifying more densely than he could
have imagined. Likewise, his whole physical frame began to lengthen to accommodate his new muscle and skeleton
structure. No sooner had his body apportioned itself, then a plasma beam catches him in the chest causing him to
rise from the couch he was sitting on and hang in mid-air, a foot above the floor with his head, arms and legs
hanging lax and downward.
From up above in the station, there are alarms going off right and left. The two scouts stare at each other in shock.
This has never happened before, what could it be? Phalor looks over at Core as if he would have the answer which
he doesn't. In the meantime, he is racing to and fro from one station to the next trying to find the problem when all
becomes dead quiet. On the main control console, a set of green letters are flashing across the monitor.
'SEQUENCE COMPLETE. SPECIMEN STATUS NOMINAL' causing both scouts to breath a sigh of contentment.
"Whew, that was a close one, Core." Phalor exclaims with intense relief. "Another sectar, and we would have been
"Phalor, you make the necessary check on the monitor while I check out the cause of the overload." Five minutes
later Core found out why. "Phalor, listen to this." Sounding mystified. "It appears we chose a very unique human.
That overload we experienced was attributed to his emotional state at the time of translation and an unusual
chemical development. He was subconsciously drawing more power than we were suppose to provide."
"Is that suppose to happen?" Phalor asked with a look of horror. "We never gave that much translation power to any
"Well, it's too late now, but I think this project is going to turn out far better than we ever expected."
From their viewing monitors, they witness the results of their experiment. John Davidson is no longer a poor
weakling but a fine 6 and a half foot tall human male. His muscles rippling with raw power.
"It's time for me to explain to him his mission." Core announced after his monitors detect him moving about.
"Be careful, Core."
With a nod of acknowledgment and a flash of light, he was transported planet side to a spot close to his intended
subject's vicinity --his back yard.
After a half hour his time, John gets up from the floor shaken but not unsteadily to his feet. Bringing a hand up to
wipe the sweat from his forehead, he stops. This can't be my hand and arm, can it? he asks himself as he stares
down at the body that is attached to that arm which is his --but yet, not his.
Running to the mirror in the hallway, he freezes with horror mixed with fascination as he sees the person staring
back at him in the reflection. Instead of dark brown hair and a face with hazel eyes, the one looking back at him has
jet black hair and steel-gray eyes. He comes nearer to the mirror to get a closer look and while he stares with
concentration at the stranger's facial features, the mirror starts to change. It's form begins to bulge from where the
eyes would have been and flares outward like ripples in water with hot sinks of liquefied glass. Stumbling
backwards aghast, he notices the mirror halting its meltdown action and begins its cooling process. "This has got to
be..." he breaks off in mid-sentence as he hears the voice that is not his own, but a stranger's, speak from his own
As he wonders about all this he turns to the sound of static. With the look of surprise, he sees what appears to be a
3-d monitor display hanging in mid-air at the center of his living room. While investigating up close, there is an
abrupt change in frequency as if someone was just tuning into a radio station when a very strange man appears on its
surface. "What the..."
"Don't be alarmed. My name is Scoutmaster Core. You must be wondering about a lot of things right now and how
I am able to talk to you this way. It would be a little difficult to do in length at this time, in this way, so I would very
much like to speak with you face to face --but only if you are willing to."
"Uh... sure, I don't mind." John replied. Inside he was thinking, 'as if I had a choice in the matter.'
Abruptly the transmission ends and instantly the man on the 3-d display appears beside him dressed in what looked
like a two-piece maroon colored spandex outfit holding a container. "Greetings John Davidson. It's a pleasure to
"How... how do you know me?" he inquired.
"We, my scout partner and I, have been watching your world for over three decades searching for a suitable
candidate such as yourself."
"Candidate? Candidate for what?" He implored suspiciously.
"Why... to bring justice and order back into this world of yours." He politely states.
"So you're responsible for this transformation of mine!" he said pointing an accusing finger at this stranger.
"Yes, we are. I am sorry that it had to happen this way, but had we asked you, you may not have accepted our offer
and we do not have much time left for us to seek out another possible candidate. No one, and I repeat no one, must
know about us or how you have become as you are. For you see John Davidson, I am not from your world."
'Oh great, just what he needed. A confrontation with aliens after being changed by them.' He muses silently, but out
loud he says, "Aren't you afraid I might blab it all over town after you go?"
Amused, Core continued. "That would not be in your best interest. If you 'blabbed' or if anyone found out, there
would be groups who would more than likely want to put you under the blade and under a microscope to determine
how you came about or the power you now have."
"You mean my being able to mess up my mirror?" John intoned as he pointed over to the one on the wall in the
hallway with distorted round pockmarks.
"Oh, much more than heat rays. Much more indeed." Core explained. "You have been endowed with power that
rivals this comic book hero in this here document." Handing him the latest copy of a local super hero magazine.
"You have got to be kidding," John says.
"No... I am not. In our observation of your world, we have determined that crime and injustice outweigh the good.
What is in your heart was found to be greater than what was in the hearts of many --the desire to place your life on
the line for a total stranger. It appears that most of your fellow citizens are not willing to do so, not even to
challenge the forces of evil and fight the injustice of the world. You are rare."
"Is that why you chose me to be similar to these fictitious characters?" he asked.
"With all the fantasy literature this world had produced, none has come close to what one of these characters are
like. Your world needs a savior to help it along and to be its banner over crime. What better figure than one like this
character here. “Pointing at a figure dressed in red and blue. “After all, your people ache to have real heroes
dwelling amongst you to do for them what they are afraid to do themselves. They are indifferent, yet wish for
something or someone to do it. So, we decided to give what this planet so much desired, and with our technology
combined with your desire to help, we chose to give you a make-over in lieu of your new line of work."
After moments of deep thought in an attempt to comprehend it all, he says, "O...kay, I accept." says John. "Just
what kind of power and capabilities do I have?"
Impressed with his ability to adjust to extreme circumstances, he sits down beside him on the couch. "To start off
with, we made it possible for you to have nearly the same capabilities as this character is described as having. You
will be able to defy the forces of gravity at will...”
"You mean I will be able to fly?"
"Kewl!" John exclaims. "I've always wanted to do that."
"May I continue without interruption?" Sounding off with parental exasperation. With a nod of meekness from
John he continues. "Thank you. You have noticed that heat beams come from your eyes. You will, in time, be able
to focus them to be of any intensity you wish creating a sort of laser with them. With your new transformed body,
you will be nearly impervious to nearly all known weapons and viruses your civilization is capable of creating.
There is a small percentage that you are capable of being destroyed if you are not careful but it not worth
mentioning. You will more than likely die of extreme old age than of anything."
"You have the following capabilities: able to fly at great velocities; heat vision, acute hearing; capable of freezing
items with your breath, since your lungs are stronger than a normal person's, thereby creating lower air currents and
you are also able to hold your breath for an extended time period. Your strength is so great, you may be able to
pulverize steel with your bare hands, but that is not certain. Your power is generated by digestion of food and drink
as well as absorption from the magnetic influx created by all celestial bodies. Your unique physiology prevents
detection by any surveillance devices you people are capable of devising as you travel since the material needed for
the components are not of this world but from afar."
Without waiting for and injected comment during his pause for breath, Core continues. "For your further
enhancement and education, there is a monitor in orbit surrounding the lunar satellite of this planet which is to be
stationed on its dark side. It is protected by massive deflectors & screens and has evasive thrusters to avoid
anything approaching it except for you. It will automatically detect your presence via a device in this container.
Only when you are within the lunar's dark zone will it acknowledge your presence and let you board. Inside, you
will find technology your kind have only dreamt about ever existing; artificial intelligence and a physical
rejuvenator should you ever need it. All these precautions are in force so as not to be noticed by this planet's
technology. If you die without an heir, the monitor will implode within days. That heir will inherit like capabilities
you now possess. If you so desire, you may share some of this knowledge with only those men science you find
As Core explains all this, he stopped talking abruptly and looks him squarely in the eyes and says, "Do not think this
new life you have will be one of fun and glory. It will not. You may have cycles of unending work. Since your
people have already been indoctrinated by these types of fictional characters, you may be accepted rather quickly,
depending on how you handle yourself. It's all up to you. This is a most grave and honored responsibility you are
given. Use it wisely."
"Well," John says, "Now that we have this settled, do I stay here or will I have to relocate?"
In answer to that query, Core replies, "That's really up to you. But, you would be better off being near where you
would be able to maintain your double identity as a free-lance writer you have always wanted to be, and also by the
constant coming and goings be undetected. I know of the perfect place. It is presently unused and ready for
occupancy. If you wish we may check it out right now."
"That sounds interesting. Yes, lets do that." John answers with enthusiasm.
Core reaches down to his belt, presses a bubble button and they are instantly transported there in less than a blink of
the eye. As they materialize, John asks in somewhat shock, "Just what do you call what just happened?"
"That? Oh. Well, we call it "matter transference" with the aid of this device. It works in connection with the scout
ship." Changing the subject, he says, "What do you think of this place? There's plenty of room for whatever you
wish to do with it."
Indeed there was. Part of it was below ground with connecting passageways to various parts of the city. One level
below the first floor, there was a whole floor structured for use as a secret lab. As they came off the elevator and
entered the room, lights came on automatically sensing the presence of life. There was some source of lighting he
knew nothing of which illuminated the whole room, dispelling all shadows. Before them, there spanned electronic
devices and computers of all types arranged in a semi-circular fashion that would aid him in his duty to protect and
meet out justice. There was a chemical lab off to one side for analysis if the computers were unable to meet the
needs as required. "You had everything in order before I was selected, didn't you?" Core nodded in admission.
"Thank you. I won't disappoint you or let my people down."
To that confession, he only nodded approval, then led the way back to the first floor.
It was amazing how the elevator was ingeniously hidden in the study. On one side of the room hung a full length
mirror which was hinged on its side and was opened only by pressing a recessed button behind the framework which
allowed entrance to the elevator. John's hand had to be placed in a predetermined place to activate the door panel
which would in response to his touch dissolve into thin air. After activating the panel once more to show him where
to place his hand, Core backed off and had John initialize it with his own.
After the initialization was finished, Core said that if the right person did not place their hand on the wall socket, it
would remain looking as any of the other walls in the room to the unsuspecting. As the elevator door re-solidified,
the mirror would then swing back into position. Before the door would 'open' while coming up from below, the
mirror would automatically swing open and the door panel would dissolve allowing passage out. Upon saying this,
he said, "We must now return to your former home. Come."
After another hour of instructions in the use his new capabilities and the varied devices in the container Core
brought. "Now." He said as he became somewhat jovial. "We have designed an outfit that would be appropriate for
you to appear in public." With thus said, he opened the container that was kept close to his side by pressing a secret
panel. The top dissolved creating an opening disclosing the contents inside. There were, he noticed, neatly folded
items of clothing and several interesting devices. Removing the outfit, he handed it to John. "Your costume brave
hero," he said with a grin.
"I should have known," John said without a bit of surprise detected in his voice. Looking at the blue outfit, he was
skeptical of being taken seriously, saying as much.
"Don’t be such a pessimist. Why don't you try it on and see how it looks." Core prompted.
After several minutes, John walks out rather embarrassed. "Well, well. Aren't you a fine specimen of your kind!"
Core exclaimed with more of his humor but also with a touch of admiration.
In truth, John was truly an incredible sight. Muscles were bulging in all the right places, but were not in any way
grotesque as some bodybuilders might look. He was the epitome of what a human ought to look like in their finest
hour. His cape came down to around the back of his knees, overlapping the boots he wore. This body suit was a
two-piece unit and of thin, self-sealing material that stretched over the whole surface once it was put on. It was an
intense blue that seemed to reach out and grab you. The form fitting boots, the letter across the chest, and the cape
were a dark navy blue. The cape, when hooked on around the neck and shoulders would meld to its mountings that
were within the fabric of the main body suit and could be removed only by a certain combination of touches so as
not to be lost in flight.
"Is this outfit truly necessary?" John asks.
"Yes." Core replies. "The blue combination is symbolic as well as practical. The blue is for: 'the sky's the limit' to
one's dreams, and the dual color tones signify your experiences through good times and the bad. For that which is
worth fighting for is not always easily attained. The color will also make it more difficult for someone to notice you
coming. You may be wondering what the 'A' is for. John nods to that inquiry. "It will be for 'Avenging Angel'. Your
fellow beings are obsessed with flying creatures, and this 'angel' fad is the strongest of them all."
Explaining the ideals he must always uphold while dealing with criminal activity, Core wound it all up by giving his
farewell to the Avenging Angel.
Back aboard the scout ship, Core looked totally enthralled at Phalor. "Our job is complete once the monitor is in
place." He said.
"That may be a problem." Phalor mischievously said.
"And why is that?"
"Well you see, while you were tutoring our friend down there, Councilman Maneer flashed us a quick message... to
return at once. It appears the other Council members have decided to relocate him --to..., to...,"
"Well... to where?" Core demanded.
"To the outer ring world where the center of attention seems to be these days. He asked that you hurry as fast as you
can to help in this unusual situation. So I took it upon myself to activate the monitor in 'Slash A' as you mentioned
before leaving planet side so that we could start out immediately upon your arrival onboard. Core, why you of all
people, does Councilman Maneer asks for? You are just another Scoutmaster like myself... aren't you? I mean,
we've been through alot together in many missions. Why you?"
Core slowly sits next to his longtime friend without saying a word. After a moment of extreme silence and
discomfort and looking down at his hands, he looks up and says, "He's my father, Phalor."
Surprise and bewilderment crosses Phalor's face. "What do you mean, he's your father. Your parents are both dead
and that's why you and I were raised in the Children's Ward. We were selected and trained to do this type of work,
'to search out other life forms' and if they are capable of integration into the collective community, we bring back
this news to the council members." Sadly, Core shakes his head sadly then began to tell him the whole, undiluted
truth, this time.
For all intents and purposes, Core's family was destroyed during an accidental tour to the outer ring society. But in
reality, the day his father was offered the position of chancellor to the then Master Councilor Jor, Core's mother
disapproved and left him the baby without notice or saying good-bye. No one knew she had just given birth to Core
except the Birthing Aid, so when the shuttle boat exploded prior to docking with the outer ring, Maneer decided that
it would be better if Core did not stay with him without a mother. Maneer felt that to be brought up in a home of a
council member without the tender love of a mother to raise him, he would unforgivable. He would be chastised
and harassed beyond tolerances as he grew up, so Core was placed in the Children's Ward where other children who
did not have parents would treat him more kindly.
As the years progressed, Maneer kept his eye on the young man and was constantly manipulating situations that
would lead him to where he was now; Space Exploration, Recon and Special Projects --or Scoutmaster, if you
"But, when did you find out about your true identity, Core?" intoned Phalor.
"It was during the Last Cycle switch over." He said. "I was just returning from a harrowing mission ahead of
schedule, it was the one you were kept from going on because it a very secret and sensitive one, remember? Well,
Maneer was in a link-up conference session with Hanger Bay Administrator, Tulok. Before they were finished, I
had reached the holding room outside his portal and overheard part of the conversation." Hearing this, Phalor was
shocked to hear Core would have been so bold to do such a thing as eavesdrop on his superiors, but Core ignored his
friend's expression. "Tulok thought no one was scheduled to arrive any time soon, so he left it open. What was one
to do, pretend one wasn't talking about them behind their back? Anyhow, my father was saying to him that the
mission he sent me on was too dangerous for the likes of his son, me, and that Tulok would be reprimanded for
placing me in harm’s way. From then on, I started to piece together the reason my life took the course it did and
realized it was Councilman Maneer who was behind it all along."
"What did you do then, Core?"
"I didn't do anything about it... immediately that is. It was after a quarter cycle that I approached him about my
"Did he deny it?"
"Of course. Wouldn't you!" Core said. "But, when I relentlessly pointed out all the events that shaped my career
that only he could have done, he surrendered and began telling the truth."
"It mustn't be easy knowing your true identity when everything you've come to know was a lie, I suppose." Phalor
said trying to console his friend.
"We have a long way to go, him and I, before we are close. Nobody else must ever find out I am his son, do you
hear?" He said fiercely grabbing his friend's shoulders tightly.
"Ow! Hey, let go. But why not?"
"Because there are those in position that would not hesitate to use this secret against him, and if it were made public,
could ruin his reputation and standing in the council chamber. He’s too good at what he does to let something like
this ruin his career, that’s why."
"Oh. That must be why he was summoning you in such the way he did." Phalor stated expectedly.
"We shall see." Abruptly switching from a somber mood to one of business, he asked. "Has the monitor responded
to your verification code?"
"Then let's return to HQ and see what we shall see, whether it be for the good or the bad." Core said in a deadpan
Moments later, with a streak and a brief flash, the scout ship hurtled through space as the trans-warp engines
operated at maximum speed leaving the tiny blue planet to itself and their new savior.
As the excitement and the thrill of flight was sinking into John's being, he realized that this was not just a game or
joy ride, but was a great privilege and responsibility that Core people had bestowed upon him.
Breaking out of his reverie, he heard gun shots down in the streets below. Immediately he dives to the scene. In a
blue streak he lands between the gunmen and a group of bystanders who were cowering in fear of the being hit by
the bullets being splayed in all directions. The gunmen paused briefly at this person who suddenly dived down and
stood in their path of flying bullets intended for the passerby's.
Staring with disbelief and shock, they recover. Using the remaining amount of ammo, they attempted to riddle him
with bullets. Holding his cape out wide so as to deflect and catch any stray bullets that could have gone around him
to the onlookers, he just shook his head in a reprimanding fashion that could've been comical in any other
circumstance. After they emptied their weapons, he lowered his cape. The sound of falling of impacted lead bullets
could be heard over the stillness of the crowd.
"That was not a good idea, gentlemen," he said casually. "Attempted murder will not go well for you." After the
shock wore away, some tried to run from this blue clad stranger, while some were tripping over each other trying to
escape this wonder of wonders. Within seconds they were rounded up by a swirling blur of blue.
Moments later, the cops were on the scene wondering how these men happened to be all tied up. As they were being
lead to the squad cars, they were rambling on and on about a flying man. Some of the by-standers were also trying
to explain through hysteria that a man in blue tights and a cape had saved them from a massacre these men would
surely have done. It was too incredible for the cops to believe when they heard this. 'Surely these people are in
shock and in need of medical attention,' thought the officer in charge. Instead of protesting, they pointed to the sky
to where the man in blue went. Scouring the sky, he was nowhere to be seen.
Meanwhile, the Avenging Angel was busy inspecting his suit several miles up in the sky, directly above the incident
that just took place. "Not a scratch on me." He said incredulously. "Incredible! With all those bullets blazing at
me, one would think there'd be at least a few nicks or scratches, but nothing! It looks as if that small force field
emanating from this suit's material actually works." With that said, he dove down to a new emergency he detected 4
miles away from the first site.
The blaze in the retirement home was too intense. As the local firefighters tried in vain to extinguish it, they all felt
it was a lost cause. While the fire chief was explaining a few options to one of his firemen as to how they might
extinguish this hellfire, an attendee was calling out to one of her charges with the hopes of finding her. Frantically
she kept calling her name. "Louise, Louise," but with no reply.
"Sharon, Louise didn't come out with the rest of us. Maybe she is in another group." An old weathered patron said
as she hobbled up to her.
"What?! She didn't come out with you? Then where could she be? I've already checked the other groups and she's
not among them." Sharon couldn't believe her ears. 'Not sweet, dear Louise. Oh dear God, not Louise.' She was a
close friend of hers since coming to work for the retirement home 6 years ago and she was the closest thing one
could call family. Getting frantic, she panics. Without thinking, she sprints towards the entrance and shouting
through sobs to any of the firemen close by, she pleads for help. "Please, somebody help me, Louise is still inside!
Don't let her die!"
Immediately, the fire chief is in motion. Running to her side he halts her progression towards the burning building
and asks what she is talking about. In reply he says, "Ma'am, nobody can go in there. It's just too hot even with our
suits. Nobody could survive that inferno."
"But you have to send somebody in, she's my friend." She cried.
"I'm sorry, but..." Suddenly, they are knocked down with a whoosh of air. "What... was... that?" the chief wondered
after seeing what he thought was a faint blue form racing towards the building seventy five feet away.
Searching the area with his enhanced vision, John scours the area of the complex. Suddenly, the ceiling in the main
lobby begins to creak and give way, but he doesn't care. He needs to find the woman Louise before it's too late.
Hearing a moan in the direction of the kitchen, he finds there a small figure of a woman lying partially in the walk-in
freezer. Quickly, he rushes to her side taking the most direct route possible, through tables which are in his path
which are bolted to the floor. Flipping them aside as if they were match sticks, he reaches her tiny frame in a brief
moment and checks her vital signs. "Great! She’s still ok," he murmurs and giving a sigh of relief. "It's not your
time to die, old woman," he quietly says.
Thinking she heard someone's voice, Louise opens her eyes. As she briefly looks upon her rescuer, she faints from a
shocking sight. She saw not a fireman in rescue gear but a man in tights with nothing else except a look of concern
for her. Seeing that she will survive, he rushes out moments before the ceiling collapses completely throughout the
first floor in the building.
"Chief, who or what is that coming out?" the chief's most seasoned fighter asked in amazement.
"Whatever it is, Jake, it can't be human, that's for sure. No man could go in that mess and come out alive."
"Well, whatever it is, it's coming this way. Look! He has something. Why... it's the old woman," Jake said
flabbergasted, as John emerged with Louise in his arms and wrapped in his cape. As he is walking away from the
building, everyone not fighting the flames stand and stare at the sight before them --a tall costumed man with a
Instead of gaping at the stranger like Jake was, Anthony O'Tool, Chief of fire station 17 meets the stranger at the
ambulance. "The only thing I can detect with her is extreme smoke inhalation. She was protected mostly by being
halfway in the walk-in freezer when I found her. That must've been what kept her alive until I reached her," he said
to the attendee who was himself overwhelmed by being this close to him.
Chief O'Tool gathered up what remained of his failing courage then spoke to this tall stranger. "I... I would like to
thank you for... for helping us here." He stammered unconsciously for the first time in his life. "Did... did you see
anyone else inside?"
"No, I didn't. It was just this woman, Louise, here."
"How did you know here name was Louise?
"I heard that woman over there crying out for her before I got here." the stranger replied.
"But... that's impossible!" Chief O'Tool declared.
"Sir, nothing is impossible," of which he flew up and out of sight.
"Chief, hey Chief."
"Huh... what, Jake? What did you say?" he said in confusion as he was trying to see where this fellow had flown off
"Who was that guy?" Jake inquired of his boss.
"I don't know, Jake." While trying to reason it out, he said. "You saw him, didn't you. He walked out of those
flames undamaged, then he flew away. I mean he actually flew! But... that's impossible, isn't it, Jake?"
"I don't know what I saw, but I do know one thing. He's a Godsend, that's for sure."
"Amen to that." intoned the Chief.
Turning on the TV in his new home, the Avenging Angel, a.k.a. John Davidson, began watching the evening news.
On nearly every station, there were stories of a mysterious being that flew off after coming to the rescue of several
instances that day. One person being interviewed, was saying in an animated voice, "It's one of them, I tell ya, it
really is. In flesh and blood. It was a real live superhero!"
"Sir," the female reporter was saying, "Whoever or whatever you saw could not possibly be what you claim him to
be. Those are just fictional characters, whereas the one doing all these impressive feats was real, of flesh and
"You weren't there, I was. How can you deny what I saw with my VERY OWN EYES!"
"Well folks, there you have it. Straight from the horses mouth. A real live flying superhero of some sort, coming to
our rescue. This is World News for this evening. I'm Julie Edwards. Good night."
When the cameraman had turned off the video camera, she slumps in exhaustion against the news' van looking at her
co-worker. He has this 'I told you so' look which always drives her crazy in times like these. "Oh, shut up, you,"
she fumes and hands him the pick-up mike.
"What did I say now, Julie?"
"You didn't have to say anything." she says in sarcasm. "I know that look you gave me and what you must be
Scott Tribidou, her cameraman says, "Who, me?" ever so innocently.
"Yes, you, dodo brain."
"Ah. Every time you call me that, my heart goes pitter-patter knowing how much you truly care about me," he said
"Can it, lug head." Almost every day he does this to her. 'Why.' She asks herself, 'why does he do it. He knows it
drives me crazy.'
"Edwards, get in here, now!"
"Oh boy, here it comes," she says to Scott. "He doesn't sound too happy about something."
"Maybe you mispronounced a word or two while on the air."
"Oh, your real funny," she responds.
"Edwards..., NOW!" His voice reverberates the office walls and she cringes upon reaching for the knob.
"Um, did you want something, boss," she asks brightly with head poking around his office door.
"Get in here, you." he says tightlipped.
Just as she feared, 'Nope, this does not look good.'
"What is the meaning of this little stunk of yours on the air this evening?" Roger Filmore booms out at her.
"Well, sir," she stammers. "There were reports of some guy..."
"I know all about that!" he yells. "What I want to know is where were you and Scotty during all this time, while
this fly boy is performing all around town?"
"Oh," is all she can say.
"Is that all you can say is, 'oh'?" he demanded. "You're paid good money to catch ‘live action’ shots, when it
happens, not to do interviews after something has happened. That's why you are allowed to have all that electronic
gear and satellite linkup stuff in the van you are allowed to drive home ev...ery night."
"Sir, the van had a flat during that bank robbery this morning and by the time Scott and I arrived, no one was
around. Then, there was too much traffic to get to the fire which was 4 miles away. It was said that some of the fire
engines couldn't even get thru as they should have. The traffic was just too heavy. We didn't even know about the
DC plane that nearly collided with that 747, sir. I mean...
"Alright, alright. I get the picture. I'm sorry for yelling at you like I did. Thought you were slacking like last
month." he quipped.
"But sir, last month wasn't my fault either," she pleads.
"Last month was too your fault, and we both know that to be so. Don't we? Well, enough said about this. I think
you get the idea."
Relief washed over her tensed body as she realized she was holding the chair arms too tightly and that she was off
the hook --at least... this time anyhow.
"I want you to focus most of your attention on this fella that supposedly can fly. Keep your ears on all the time, ya
hear me, girl?" She translated it as his way of saying, 'keep the scanners going including the ones in your
apartment 24 hours a day from now on, or I may decide to find another reporter who can do the job, Miss Edwards.'
A definite warning to take serious.
Seeing her come out still alive but looking solemn instead of bristling as she often times will, Scott asks her, "So, are
we still a team or what?"
"Yeah, we're still a team, bozo."
"Oh, I love it when you use such language. Oooh." Shaking his upper body for effect was usually funny, but not
"Come on Romeo, we've got work ahead of us, leaving little time to play." With this said, she pats him on the arm
in a tired way and walks off.
"I told you to keep the spare tire in the van, but, noooo, you said we needed the extra space for equipment and we
wouldn't need it." Scott says in a mocking tone of voice.
"Oh, hush now. Just get it fixed, quick. I don't like being stuck in this neighborhood any longer than it is
necessary." Looking around anxiously, she smacks the side of her leg in an attempt to encourage Scott to work
An hour later, he is still favoring his sore thumb and scraped knuckles from the repair job while racing off to another
supposed citing of this flying man. The last lugnut holding the tire on was stubborn coming off when the tire wrench
decided to have fun by slipping off causing his hand to crash into the wheel rim. All because this woman sitting next
to him was getting paranoid and just had to rush the repair job. Women!
Do you see him yet, Scott?" she says peering into the clear blue sky two days later at 11 in the morning.
"Yea, I see him alright, but I don't believe it."
"What don't you believe?" She asks.
"I'm looking at him with binoculars, right? Well, from this distance of about a mile, he shouldn't be able to see me,
right? Well, there he is staring right back at me, smiling no less, and... Uh, oh!" he gasps scurrying about trying to
get down from the top of the van.
"What's 'uh, oh' suppose to mean Scott?" she hesitantly asks.
"He means, 'Uh, oh' I'm here," the stranger in tights says suddenly by her side.
"Whoa there mister. Don't ever do that to me!" She yells.
"Sorry." He exclaimed meekly. "Didn't mean to scare you like that, ma'am."
"First off, don't call me 'ma'am'. That's for old women, and I'm not old or decrepit."
"That's for sure." The stranger says brightly. "And might I add, I'm glad I stopped by." Saying this made him
smile at her. Inside he's thinking, 'Man alive, John, she is one heck of a woman. Some guy will have quite a catch
should he nab her for his own. She's tall, athletic, and beautiful to boot. What a gal!'
Sneering up at him, she pauses as his eyes bore into hers with an intensity she never knew before, she suddenly feels
very weak in the knees, vulnerable and shy. 'Nobody's been able to do that to me before with just his eyes. Now,
why would that be?'
Continuing, he says to her, "Saw you were having a problem earlier with the tire and when you stopped again,
thought I would drop in and see if everything was alright. Are they? Besides, I wanted to know why you two have
been following me these past few days."
"No, we're ok, right now. Um, you know about our following you around?" she said in awe.
After an awkward moment between the two of them, while Scott just stands there at the front of the van snickering
at her discomfort, she speaks up. "So, mister. Who are you? Are you from around here. Lastly, what are you
doing wearing this silly outfit that belongs only on some lame actor in a short lived TV series?"
"Oh, that's a good one. OK... let's just say I'm your Avenging Angel, as it were. I'm here to get justice back on line
and to rescue fair maidens in distress." This last part he says jokingly, knowing full well it will set her off.
"How dare you!" Flaring brightly at him. "What right have you to say that to me? I can take care of myself,
thank you very much," she sputters.
He laughs wholeheartedly at the face she makes and from the tease but stops abruptly as he hears a siren off in the
distance. Looking at her kindly, he says, "Duty calls. If you really want to know where I'm headed off to, it's, oh,
around 34th and Main Street I'd say. You can reach it by taking a short cut through Elm and Broadway. From there,
it's a clear shot to the scene."
"Yeah. Thanks mister," she says loudly as he zooms off for another rescue.
In a whoosh, he's gone. "Oh wow.... what a rush!" exclaimed Scott.
"Come on, space cadet. Let's move it!" As she too comes out of her own dreamy haze, she calls out while climbing
into the driver's seat and revving up the engine of the van.
Starting off before Scott can close the sliding door, he looses his balance and bumps his shoulder on the equipment.
"Hey, take it easy, will ya!" yelping like a wounded puppy.
"You heard him." She said excitedly and jumping around in her seat. "If we take Elm and Broadway, we might be
able to see him in action. That's only a few blocks away from here."
"Yea, but let's make sure we get there alive to do it."
"Oh, stop whining, will you," she says, sticking out her lower lip in a pouty fashion that adults do to imitate little
kids that sulk.
"Man, oh man! Is this good stuff or what, Scott."
"That it is, Julie!" He says with hurt in his voice that continues to linger from the reckless race to get there.
They both watch, along with fifty other spectators as the Avenging Angel goes into in action. There are ten
construction workers pulling pieces of plaster and concrete from the outer ridge of the collapsed building in hopes of
finding a live per person while he lifts mighty chunks of steel and concrete that was covering two more people --one
was a baby and the other, it's mother. Both are unconscious.
All of a sudden, someone lets out a blood curdling scream as more beams fall from above directly over the three
people. "Hey stranger, watch out!" Quickly he spread-eagles over the two to protect them. The sound of tortured
metal is heard. <Crash, crunch, screech.>
With sounds of anguish coming from the crowd as they witness this horrible sight, they see nothing moving. As
each one holds their breath with the hope that they are still alive, the dust begins to settle and they see the carnage of
stressed and mangled I-beams heaped up where they were. The crowd continue to strain their eyes to see any sign
of life from the pile.
With their hope of a miracle waning, a faint sound of movement under the pile can be heard as I-beams begin to
shift aside. An arm appears, then the black hair of the blue clad stranger surfaces, followed by the woman and her
baby that is crying from sheer fright. The crowd roars with delight at the sight of the survivors and rushes toward
Not one for taking the credit for doing what needed to get the job done, the John goes back to scanning the
remaining debris for life signs. Noting where each one is, he quickly flies up to the second floor and rapidly fastens
an over hang around its perimeter just in case more beams decide to come crashing down, causing more problems
for those trapped.
As the last one is safely in the clear, the construction foreman is asked whether they were building it up or tearing it
down. "It's was suppose to come down, but I don't dare let any of my people go in there to do it after this incident,
what with its weakened state and all."
"Don't worry, I'll take care of it," this tall stranger says to him. "Just make sure everyone is safely out of harms'
"No problem, mister." Using a megaphone, he yells, "Everyone, get way back... it's coming down."
With the grace and speed of a humming bird, the Avenging Angel carefully maneuvers within the structure. Years
ago, it was a famous building in which people controlled the stock market, but after the second major economic
upheaval, the city closed it down. It's six stories that remained were carefully removed piece by piece in fast motion
with a blur of blue swirling around it. As the crowd watched in wonder, the components were being neatly stacked
according to their shape and size. Three hours later, it was completely disassembled. As he has these past few days
after helping others, he makes sure all are ok then zooms off into the air without a backward glance.
Stepping outside on his way to the supermarket, John sees the van that Julie Edwards drives around the city hurdling
past him on yet another of her wild stories. Thankfully, he does not have to go to the site.
It's been almost four months since his debut. Now that things had simmer down a little, he needed to get out as a
regular guy. So with a need to buy food for the next week to come, he's on his way to the local market.
"Excuse me, but could you reach that package of Lasagna for me."
"Yes, of course." John replies without turning to look at the one who asked the favor. Upon turning he realizes who
it was that asked. There before him stood a woman of the average height of five foot six inches, graceful build and
beautiful eyes. Knowing full well who she is but not letting on that he did, he hands her the package.
"Thank you. I don't know why they have to put these way up high for those who aren't tall enough to reach them.
That's inconsiderate of this store," she remarked then catching herself momentarily. "You look familiar. Have we
met somewhere before?"
"Um, I don't think so." He says brightly but with his guard going up. 'Be careful John, don't blow it.'
"I have seen you before."
'Uh oh, here it comes,' he thinks.
"You're John Davidson, the writer, aren't you?"
With inward relief, he says, "Yes, that's correct. I freelance. I'm abit surprised anyone even makes out my face from
the photos these publishers use nowadays. Why they insist on placing them on the back covers is beyond me. I
don’t even look like those photos, really."
"Oh, your pictures aren't that bad, really. It's just that that smile yours is a little lopsided that’s all." She countered
good naturedly. "I hear you recently moved to the San Diego area. Anyplace interesting?"
"It's that tan colored Colonial house near Mission Trails Regional Park --the one no one seemed to want."
"Oh... I've always wondered if anyone would buy that place. It was said that the owners were very picky in who
they sold it to. I suppose congratulations are in order then."
"Why, thank you," he said with as much modesty as he could muster; for he knew no one ever lived in it since being
built decades ago.
"Have you been around to see the sights or meet anyone since arriving?" Asking ever so coyly, hoping against hope
he hadn't had the chance to meet anyone or be committed to anyone. Stopping herself short, she wonders why she
hoped that just now. Normally, when it comes to personal relationships, she is very inept. Just the contrary when it
comes to doing her job.
"Actually," he whispered in a conspiratorial fashion after looking this way, then that way, "I haven't been having the
opportunity to do so, what with being caught up a whirlwind of activity my work demands of me these past few
"Well, since we’re both grocery shopping and you are still fairly new in town, how about us having dinner
together... tonight... at your place?" Looking up into his dark steel-blue eyes, she nearly caught her breath. 'Where
have I seen eyes like those before?’ she wonders.
"Sure, that sounds fine with me. How about six thirty? Is that ok with you?"
"That would be splendid." She purred.
Arriving at 6:30 on the dot, Julie finds a note attached to the front door. At first Julie began to think he skipped out
on her. Instead, the note read.
Will be back in a few moments,
had an unexpected errand to run.
"Well, at least he didn't leave me wondering what happened," she said, musing at the message.
"Reading a love note from someone?"
Startled by the voice, she nearly dropped her bag of groceries. "Oh, it's you. When are you going to stop sneaking
up behind me?" she yelped angrily. Behind her was Scott. He had been following her to her secret rendezvous and
had snuck up from behind to scare her. "What are you doing here, anyhow?"
Ignoring her first question, he goes abruptly to the next one. "Thought I would check to see if you were going to be
alright in this area, at this time of the night. That's all."
"I'll be alright, don't you worry any. Now get out of here before you're spotted," she said drilling him with her
eyes before he decided to relinquish his position. 'How dare he follow her on a dinner date. The nerve of the fella.'
Before his car rounded the corner, the front door started to open. Twirling around once again, she now faces the one
she doesn't mind looking at. "How did you get here without being seen?"
"Oh. Well, there's a rear entranceway to the house where the garage is located. I came in that way. Were you
"No. As a matter of fact, I just got here."
"Well then, let's get started." He proposed.
Upon finishing the simple but filling meal Julie speaks up. "That was delicious, John. Thank you for inviting me
over." Leaning back in the chair with contentment, she wipes her mouth with the ornate napkin then taking note of
"Well, actually it was you who did the inviting, but that’s ok. If it weren't for the pasta sauce you brought, it would
not have tasted as good." He countered.
"True." She says lightheartedly. "So. What do you have in mind for an encore?" Hoping for a little flirtatious
activity but not daring to bring it up herself.
"Do you like videos? I have quite a collection that tends to spark my imagination while writing stories."
"You do? I never knew of any writer who did such a thing. That's interesting."
"Would you like to see them?"
Upon entering his study/writing room, her eyes bugged from the scene. There were two 60 x 12 foot walls from top
to bottom, displaying nothing but videos --all in categorical order.
"This is too much!" She exclaimed. "What did you do, clear out a video shop?"
"No, not exactly." He chuckles. "I have a contract with some major producers to evaluate their completed works.
In return, they allow me to keep the discs, along with receiving a modest fee, of course."
"I'll bet you do," she said with admiration.
"So, what types of movies do you care for?"
Walking over to the Science fiction-fantasy-romance section, she gives a noticeable start, as if caught off guard, and
says demurely, "I like the ones where the hero comes away with the fair maiden." Nearly choking on the last few
words almost ruined the mood she was trying to create with him. For some bizarre reason, what she just said and
the feeling she was having, reminded her so much of that encounter she had a few months ago with that blue clad
flying man and what he had said to her.
"Well, there is a list that is automatically updated for each section if you wish to review it before deciding." All of a
sudden a beeping noise is heard and he reaches down to the beeper at his waist then excuses himself for a private
Quickly he removes his outerwear and zooms out the back door to an emergency across town. It was a good thing
he took the governor's offer of having that special beeper to summon him should there be an incident requiring his
As he flew overhead, he noticed the problem. The drawbridge had stopped ten feet up. Instead of stopping, the
person driving the car had continued to race onward hoping to cross over in order to elude the police. At the last
second, the car was snagged on the edge of the seam where the two halves meet holding them in place. If it were
just the criminals involved the authorities would not have bothered to summon the Avenging Angel, but inside the
car was a little boy they had dragged away from the convenience store as their insurance of a safe get-away. The car
was now teetering dangerously close to slipping over the edge. With all the jostling in the car as the men argued
over their lousy luck, it decided to go over the edge while its passengers screamed. They continued to scream as it
fell twenty feet when abruptly it was caught gently in mid-air and lifted up over the embankment to the spot where
the authorities stood watching.
The words, "You in the car, throw out your weapons and come out one at a time," was the last thing John heard
while flying back home and to his evening guest.
"That must've been a one sided conversation, coz I didn't hear a word from your end." Julie stated as he re-entered
the study/writing room.
"You wouldn't have heard a word no matter how loud I spoke. The walls were sound proofed after acquiring this
place." He said. "I prefer my privacy in the few areas there is in my life. One could scream at the top of their lungs
without being heard from within or from outdoors."
"Is that so," she says in a husky low voice and with half closed lids. "I think I found the one to watch." Handing
him a double disc pack labeled, 'The Charmed Life', she moves to the viewing couch.
"Um... Are you sure you want to watch this one?" He asks nervously, not remembering all of it but just enough to
know that it had a few really sentimental/steamy scenes that almost always caused people to want to be with another.
She insistently declares, "Definitely!"
As the second disc was being activated Julie began edging as close to John as she possibly could without being too
forward. She was going to force him to make a move on her. If he didn't soon, she was.
Not able to take his being a gentleman any longer and rejecting the feelings she was experiencing while in his
presence, she turned to him and whispered in his ear, "If you don't make love to me this very moment, I'm gonna go
out of my mind."
Staring at her in surprise, he told her that he enjoyed her company very much, but to do something like that would
ruin something beautiful they had going.
"Well, at least hold me so I don't feel so alone. Please?" She murmured in a little girl's voice.
Hearing her plea and seeing the look on her face, he decides that that would be acceptable. That evening, they
watched two more double length movies of a more lighter note. With Julie resting in his powerful arms while
dozing off after the last movie was seen, he beholds the gentle beauty she possesses. By now it is early morning
with the sun just coming up over the horizon. Suddenly, she jerks wide awake and stares up into his steel-blue eyes.
With a demure "Good morning," she slips out of his arms and freshens up in the hall rest room. Returning slowly,
she thanks him for the grand evening they had and asks if they can do it again sometime.
As she pulled into her parking slot at work a few hours later with a natural high, she was hoping to do a file check
on a recent story before starting out on the road. Instead, she was intercepted by her cameraman, Scott, before she
could reach the garage elevator alone.
"So, how was your dinner date with Mr. Davidson?" Scott asked innocently as they rode up together to the eight
Trying to hide a smile but failing miserably, she explained that he was quite an entertaining gentleman with a love
for the arts.
"Yeah, I bet he does."
"Get your mind of the gutter, why don't you. I don't give in to any man no matter what you might think." She
exploded unexpectedly. "So what if he is charming and... and... irresistible! What kind of girl do you think I am?"
Trying to hide these very thoughts and her embarrassment of her wanting John last night, and upon being triggered
so easily by Scott.
"Take it easy, lass. I was just wondering, that's all." Saying this, he backs up to the far wall with hands up in
defense. "I was just curious, nothing more. I know the mood you were in, especially after meeting this fellow at
that grocery store you stopped at. You meet him, then suddenly you're seeing him that same day. Well, it caused me
to wonder about your safety and vulnerability. Lonely people can sometimes do crazy things unexpectedly, ya
"Yeah, I guess you're right," she admitted peakedly. "I'm sorry for tearing your head off like that."
"So. Why are you here so early and bright eyed? Inquiring minds want to know."
"There's a few checks I want to do before heading out on the road. Any objections?" Seeing none coming forth
from him, see walks out of the elevator to the reference center on their floor.
Several months later...
"Edwards, Tribidou," Roger Filmore, their boss shouts from his office door opening, "get your butts in gear. There's
a terrorist at the Rocketfeller building claiming to blow it, himself, and 26 hostages up if his demands aren't met in
One small man is shouting at the top of his lungs from the twelfth story. After arriving at the scene, Julie and Scott
clamor through the crowd for a vantage point to capture the action undisturbed. Not seeing a good place to set up,
she spots an unlocked door and motions Scott to follow. Sneaking in the back entranceway, Scott begins to complain
about the possibility of getting caught.
"Scott, don't you have the guts for this anymore? Where's your thrill for adventure?"
Bending over trying to catch his breath from all the running they've done so far, he looks up, stops dead cold, and
says stony faced, "I'm... afraid I just lost it."
"What are you talking about?" making a face and being exasperated with him in a time like this.
"He means, my dear, 'he just lost it'. Someone says behind her as he mimics Scott's own words.
As she whirls around, he cuts her short by barking out, "Don't!" and emphasizing it by pointing a menacing
automatic in her face.
The Avenging Angel, a.k.a. John Davidson is walking down 133rd street when he over hears a commotion coming
from the next block up ahead. Hurriedly, he makes his way there as a normal pedestrian would upon hearing such a
disturbance. Making sense of all the commotion, he scans the building in hopes of detecting the bomb the terrorist
claims to have rigged to go off in 45 minutes.
Finally he sees it and almost forgetting where he is, he nearly leaps into the air with his civilian clothes on --in front
of everyone no less. Looking around frantically, an empty alley is spotted and he races down far enough not to be
noticed. Seconds later, in a blur and a whoosh, he does a low flyby just above the crowd to the portico on the
building at the twelfth floor closest to the site of the bomb. To his surprise, there is an electrical forcefield that
prevents his being able to deactivate the bomb. Touching it causes his fingers to go instantly numb. "There has got
to be a way to get to it." He mumbles.
"What's the matter blue-boy?" A haughty but whiny voice behind him says. "Is there a problem?"
Twirling around, he stops in mid-step as he sees what is in this man's possession. A multi-switch detonator... and a
terrified Julie Edwards. “Careful! We don’t want any accidents, now do we?”
"What do you want with the girl?" This powerful man asks of the tiny but arrogant man, trying desperately to sound
neutral --though his heart is racing. "What does she have to do with this? Let her go." He commands.
"Ah, what's the matter?" turning, he says to the other hostages which had been tied up and sitting against the far
wall. "Looky here folks, the flying wonder has a heart of putty when it comes to pretty women in danger?"
"Just let her go, or you'll be sorry."
"Ohhh, 'I'll be sorry,' he says. I doubt that."
Stepping forward ever so slowly to get within proximity of both the girl and the detonator without being a threat to
the man, he stops as the terrorist pantomimes flipping a switch if he came any closer.
"Don't try it big boy. All I want is the money I asked for and a safe getaway, so don't endanger these wonderful
people with your heroics."
Seeing the look of concern on his face for her and the others, her mind races through a collection of similar faces
who possessed such a look in the eyes. 'Where have I seen that look before.' This very morning there were several
things she wanted to check out that seem to be troubling her dreams as of late. 'If you get thru this Julie, you are
gonna have to check out a few more things, even if taking a vacation from work is necessary to get it taken care of,
you will do it.' Her future planning schedule is broken by the forceful way in which the one in blue tights just said,
'let her go,' for the third time.
'You can't hurt me while I have this girl and this detonator, and we both know it." He speaks as though he believes
he has the upper hand in this show of force.
"I see you leave me no other choice."
The little man intones. "You're finally seeing the light, fly-boy. That’s good. It's about time you did too, because
we only have ten more minutes to go before we all...”
Before the arrogant little man utters his last statement he sees the strangest look on the suited man's face. All of a
sudden he screams in utter pain and watches in horror as the detonator is being melted. During this time the girl
breaks free of his grasp and falls to the ground out of harm's way. The material of the detonator's casing & its
internal components dissolves and spreads all over his hand. Sparks and crackling noises erupt from the electronic
components that were once fuses, condensers, resistors, along with a miniature atomic power pack.
Looking up in disbelief, he screeches out a protest to this freak in tights that stands in front of him before he
collapses in a sobbing heap of despair. All his plans have been ruined by this... this... THING coming towards him.
"Stay away from me you freak! Don't you touch me!" he shrieked. "Stay away."
Walking up to a few feet of him, the costumed man quietly says to the shriveling, curled up man, "I said you'd be
sorry if you didn't let her go."
Just then, as always, the police show up --looking just as dumbfounded at the scene. Checking the bomb for any
signs of activity but finding it was deactivated when the detonator was melted, they turn to the man in blue for
questioning. After informing the authorities of what had transpired, the man in tights walk over to the girl named
Julie seeking her welfare. "Are you going to be alright?"
Looking up into his strong face with fear and wonder, she nods affirmation. Before he is able to fly away she grabs
his powerful arm and implores, "Who are you? What are you?"
"I'm just a man who wants to help those in need," was his only answer.
"It looks as though your going to need help yourself. Look at your fingers." At this he did and notices they all have
burnt marks on the finger tips and turning blackish as a result of trying to grab the bomb with his bare hands. As she
touches them, it produces a tingling/numbing effect with pain shooting up his arms. Seeing his discomfort, she
"Don't worry, I'll be ok." And with that he flies off.
"Well Mr. Davidson, it appears that you have somehow burnt the tips of your fingers but royally. The only way I
can think of one could do that is by coming in contact with a large dosage of electricity. Frankly, son, I'm surprised
you're still alive, if that was the case." After obtaining other vital information on his patient, the old man says,
"You'll be ok in a few days. Just remember to apply this salve liberally twice daily and keep those fingers bandaged
as much as possible until the redness goes away. Otherwise, the nerve endings might not heal properly."
"Thank you Dr. Brickman." John says.
"I'll want to see you in five days to check it's progress, but I doubt there is much I can do for you at this stage," says
"I will doctor. Thank you."
"But John, I thought we had a date tonight," wailed Julie. "Just because the frying pan fell off the stove and caused
you severe burns doesn't mean we can't see each other. Does it?"
"I suppose not," sighed John over the speaker phone.
Hearing him sigh like that caused her to think fast. Since that is what she does best under moments of stress, she
suggests that they go out for pizza and that she would feed him every bite he takes. Afterwards, she'll treat him to a
moonlit carriage ride.
He says that he'll have to think about the carriage ride, but the pizza thing sounded like a good idea. It was 4pm
already and she won't get off until 7 tonight she said, so there were still some time between now and the date to have
some gloves made in case he had to go off on a rescue. He had to keep those fingers protected at all cost. That's
when he remembered what the visitors that were responsible for his transformation had said about the Monitor
which was out there for him to use as needed. 'Why don't I go to it and see if some gloves can be made or if my
fingers can be healed. The one named Core said there was a regeneration device onboard. It couldn't hurt to try it
out.' So with that decided, he locates his equipment and hooks onto a utility belt the device he would need to be
detected & allowed on board the monitor then puts on a sealed helmet with a small air canister attached to his waist
before heading out into space.
Flying through vacuum, he muses, 'I never knew space could be so beautiful. Everything is so crisp and clear, even
if it is a bit chilly.' Since his molecular design did not respond the same as a normal human would under the same
circumstances, he didn't need a spacesuit. He felt truly free and at one with the universe right at that moment while
gazing at the many different colors emanating from the multitude of stars shining brightly.
As he approached the dark side of the moon, the device attached to the utility belt started to pulse in a rhythmic
fashion. Suddenly, a rippling affect began to occur before his very eyes upon which an opening yawned to accept
him and closed just as abruptly.
Looking about, John removes his helmet and lays it on a nearby counter before jumping out of his skin. <Welcome,
savior of planet Earth> The disembodied voice echoed. It did not sound anything like a normal echo as it
ricocheted down the metallic, oblong room filled with unheard of devices & undreamed of technology. Instead, it
had a warm solid sound to it. <How may I help you?>
Uncertainty crept into his voice as he looked everywhere trying to find the source of the voice. Gulping a few times
he says, "Um... I... um... my fingers and the nerve endings were damaged by a high voltage force field today. Can
you help me?"
<Follow the glowing sphere until it stops and changes shape>
When the glowing orb materializes, he follows its lead until he comes to a console. Without preamble, a low lying
table emerges from the wall. <Lay down please>
After getting comfortable, a pair of laser beams one blue and another one red scan his whole body, starting at his
head and slowly moving downward to the feet in a crisscrossing fashion. Feeling nothing out of the ordinary, while
the glow roves his frame, he thinks, 'this is almost like a massage, I could learn to like this alot.'
When the warm lasers blink off. He is instructed to follow the glowing sphere once again to another station.
After receiving answers to several of his questions, John asks, "What do they call you?"
<I am called Monitor> a pause <If there is a more desirable name you wish to address me by, you may>
"Hmm. How about I call you Max?"
<Max, it is then> <You are healed, and you must go now, for you are needed by your planet in the area zone where
"Thank you, and... 'I'll Be Back'."
"Here he comes Chief!" A fireman who has kept his eyes peeled to the sky hoping the man in the funny suit would
arrive in time, shouted the warning.
As the costumed stranger lands the fire chief says, "Man, am I glad you're here. We have a fire on the 30th floor
that contains paint and other highly flammable items. They were being used in redecorating some of the offices up
there. The only thing is, we don't have anything that can reach that far up and the stairs have collapsed just out of
reach of our ladders. All power including backup power for the emergency lift is out. To top it all off, there was a
party going on up there with over 36 people on the 33rd floor, but we don't know where they all are."
Sensing the chief’s desperation, he leaps up and into the sky towards the 30th floor and nearly reached the right one
when a series of small explosions occurred. Rushing in though the flames, he finds that each office and hall is filled
with smoke. As he is putting out the flames and clearing the air, he thinks he is nearly done. 'One more room to
search, then I can go home and get ready to relax with Julie.' Just then the room he was about to enter exploded
outward catching him with the full force of the mighty explosion. Being dazed, he slowly gets up from the floor and
goes about putting out the flames and checking for the building's structure & integrity. With that checking out fine,
he goes travels up the three flights of stairs to check on those at the party up above. No one was hurt thankfully.
Then after a brief period of silence one woman spoke up mentioning that a couple saying something about leaving
early and they didn't appear to be anywhere in the suite where the party was going on so they must've left. Leaving
to check the way they thought the couple always went while leaving the office suite on that floor, he scouts out the
area tossing aside rubble from fallen debris.
Hearing the scuffling and moving debris up above, a man yells frantically. "Hello? Is somebody there? Help us,
please. Somebody, please help us!"
"I see you, hold on." From down below in a collapsed stairwell, a man and woman were hanging from the few
remaining handrails that refused to give way. Floating down to where they were, he grabs hold of the woman who
has collapsed and flies out of the building to the ambulances then immediately returns to the site to... to an empty
stairwell. 'Where is he?' he wonders. Looking about frantically, he can't find him. "Hello? Mister... can you hear
me?" With fragments of the building falling down from above, he continues to search the area where he last saw the
man and woman together. "Is anyone down here?"
The sound of stressed metal and cracking plaster produces an abrupt cry further down than he expected. "I see you.
Stay put, I'm coming for you."
"Hurry! I don't think this beam will hold much..."
As the dangling man says that, the beam bends and the man starts his dangerous plummet to the bottom of the ruined
stairwell. Before he has descended 4 floors, he sees a blur coming towards him and suddenly his descent has halted
and is now being lifted to safety. "Where did you come from?"
"From up there."
Arriving at Julios' Pizza Parlor, they find a quiet corner and order their specialty of black olives, onions, pineapple
and mushrooms on a large pan pizza.
Holding hands, she notices that his fingers are alright causing her to blurt out as she pulls away from him, "I
thought you said you burnt yourself this morning with the frying pan?"
"They were. I guess Dr. Brickman's ointment worked faster than he assumed it would."
"That'll be a first." she scowled at him. "He has been known to dabble in unorthodox methods for as long as I can
"How do you know that?" he asked, intrigued by her newest bit of information that she seems never to run short of.
"He was the doctor who delivered me... he has also done many horrific experiments on me that produces quirks at
unexpected moments." she replied, first being real serious then finishing the sentence in an imitation of Igor with a
slobbering tongue hanging out of her mouth with eyes crossed in such a gruesome yet comical way.
"Have you ever seen another physician about this distinctive problem you seem to display? By the way, do you
have these quirks often?" John asks with a somewhat serious look on his face.
"Oh you," she declares.
And, as if fate would have it, they find themselves looking into each other's eyes and holding hands once more.
Suddenly she gives a start as inspiration clicks in. Eyes wide with surprise she blurts out, "You're him!"
Good naturedly he asks her, "I'm who?"
"You're HIM." Seeing a blank face on him, she continues. "You know... the one who flies around. The Avenging
"Do I look like someone who could fly and rip steel apart --someone who burns their fingers on a hot skillet? I
don't think so!"
"That's another thing. The same day this fella burns his fingers on that nasty force field, your accident in the
kitchen occurs. Coincidence? I don't think, buster."
"Oh... I get it. This has got to be a joke you and Scott came up with, right?" He snorts in amusement then stops
when he sees she's not joking but having a queer expression on her beautiful face. Looking around nervously, he
expects others to join in on the gag. Thankfully nobody has noticed a thing she said --they're oblivious to the young
Leaning forward with her head cocked to an inquiring angle she asks, "How... how do you know what his name is?"
"Hmm? Oh... well you must've let it slip without realizing it a couple of months back after we met," he replied
"Uh, uh. I never mentioned his name to you before. I know darn well the network don't mention his name in the
cast and credits in connection with mine, because he threw a royal fit about that a month ago." She said. "So, I am
right after all, aren't I?"
Making a somewhat rude sound with his mouth he says, "Yeah, right." Sobering up quickly, he counters with, "Do
you realize what you're saying?" He leans across the table towards her with an intense look on his face.
Not intimidated with that look she has seen him do with others, she continues. "Yes. I couldn't put my finger on it,
but when you looked at me this morning at the site with that terrorist, I knew there was something odd about the
two of you which seemed all too familiar. So afterwards, I checked out a few things and wracked my brain trying to
make all the pieces fit, but it didn't hit me until just now when we looked into each other's eyes. You both had that
aching desire to hold me during a critical moment like this."
Leaning back in his booth's seat in a defeated slouch and focusing on the table to keeping from having to look up at
her, he nods his head and says, "Yeah, I'm the guy alright." Snapping his head up he bore right into her eyes saying,
"You mustn't tell anyone of my identity. It would be too dangerous. For you. For me." Imploring her with his
eyes, he allows silence to enforce what he just said.
‘Yes, there was those selfsame heartbreaking steel-grey eyes again that she saw on that fateful morning. He loves
me and doesn't want to loose me.' Swallowing hard to push the lump that accumulated in her throat down, she just
looks at him.
"Marry me!" He blurts out.
"Excuse me?" She says in a stunned, shocked voice.
"WILL... YOU... MAR-RY... ME?" He repeats in an exaggerated, drawn-out way.
Thinking about all that has happened in the past months and the many encounters with this incredible man, she
replies sweetly, "Yes... I will."
"You... you will?"
"I'd love to be married to one that has a heart such as yours. I love you even though sometimes I am scared to death
of the incredible powers you have displayed. Beside, nearly every waking moment I find myself thinking of you
even on the job. Why not make it better by totally completing our relationship?"
"Can't argue with that line of reasoning. Besides, I feel the same way about you. Every time I look at you, I
experience contentment that fills every square inch of my being. Every time we part company, it leaves me wanting
more of you the next time."
"I never thought you to be such a romantic?" she says glossy eyed.
"That's the best part of a relationship. Learning more of one another and enjoying those moments we share
"How about this Friday?"
"For what?" he asks stupidly.
"'For what?' Why, to get married silly."
"Ok. Sure. I just didn't think you wanted to rush it, what with all the planning and all and with Firday being only
five days away."
"Don't worry about the wedding plans. I know someone who can whip up a grand program with little effort and still
have it turn out a success."
"I leave it in your capable hands then, Julie."
Just then the waiter brings over their pizza which they eat with gusto in no time flat. Not wanting to stay there, they
stroll through Balboa Park watching the yachts cruising along in the harbor off in the distance with their running
lights glowing in the mist.
As people were continually congratulating the newlyweds of being the perfect couple and wishes of goodwill, his
beeper once again goes off. "Sorry folks, but I have urgent business to attend to. Please excuse me."
Before leaving the room, he could hear one of the ladies declare to Julie, "Girl, if you think that your husband ought
to be able to take off on some errand whenever some friend calls, especially on his wedding day, how sure are you
of his dependability in other areas?"
Looking in his direction, she smiles as she notices his look of amusement, knowing that he too heard the woman
speak. Thinking back to the first day they met, she realizes that he has always done that, and coming back to the
conversation, she says, "He was always a bit flighty at first, you know, taking off when you least expect it and then
popping back in the same way." But she knew he would always return in no time at all. Under her breath, she says,
"Go my love." With that, he silently slinks from the room to change out of his tux and into his suit which he had
refused to wear beneath it.
Twenty minutes later, he was back in his tux and carrying out his expected role of honored guest and groom.
Coming out of his study/writing room looking none the worse for wear from his little adventure out at sea, a guest
confronts him. "So John, I hear from Julie that your a freelance writer and part-time movie critic." The man was
Roger Filmore, Julie's boss.
"Yes sir, that's correct. Whenever producers have a new release, they send me a special edition of their movie
which I review then tell them what I think of it. As a result, I get to keep the disc and receive a modest fee as well,"
he humbly admits.
"Well, the reason I mentioned this is I have been looking for an individual such as yourself for similar work as
needed. Would you be interested?" He asks.
"Well, I suppose I could squeeze you in from time to time as needed. We'll see how it goes, alright sir?"
Julie walks up to the two men and asks jokingly, "What's going on here? You're not trying to get your meat hooks
into him too, are you boss?"
"No, no. Just asking him for his perspective on something."
"Well, whatever it is he's offering you John, be very careful to take him up on it. He's sneaky as a snake."
Squinching up her nose and making a funny face at him for effect made her boss chuckle. Moving outdoors to the
snack bar, she asked, "Was he really offering you a job proposition or just asking for advice like he said?" Seeing
the affirmative response reaction in his eyes as they always did almost in an involuntary way whenever he was put
on the spot, she cursed ever so lightly so as not to startle the others near them, "I never gave a definite answer to
him, so it's not like I threw my whole career down the drain by saying, 'we'll see'. Don't worry." To the way he
said it, she brightened up dramatically. Satisfied with her change of mood, he says, "Now, shall we participate in the
"Most assuredly, husband." She returned in like manner as they melodramatically walk back inside, hand in hand,
to where their other guests were milling about for the few remaining hours of their reception.
His decision to marry her was made sure after the look on her face when he first disclosed his double identity in the
pizza shop. Bringing her into his confidence was the best thing he ever did. He disliked having to make up reasons
for sudden disappearances while spending time together. Now that they were married, there would no longer be any
need to keep secrets from her. No more.
Hours after all guests had left and they return from his treating her to a touring experience she'll never forget, they
consummate their wedding vows in the privacy of their home --the way true love allows.
"No John, please, not that one again. You're killing me. Stop." She has a hard time containing her laughter as he
spins around the large spare room that was set aside as their room for recreation. Stopping periodically and striking
a goofy pose or with a silly look on his face, she once more splits open with peels of uproarious laughter. Soon she
is crying & laughing all at the same time when he finally floats down by her side and gathers her up into his arms.
"Oh, you're so horrible. Don't you ever stop, my love."
“I won’t. Ever.”
Bringing her joy and happiness has always been his ambition since they married two years ago this very day. Since
then, it has been a rollercoaster ride of thrills and sorrows, but they would never have given it up if they had to do it
all over again.
One of those not so pleasant times, was when an unstable scientist discovered the Avenging Angel's true identity by
accident. He had for several months been wondering where this extraordinary man hid himself, and as he was
resting momentarily from his walk thru Mission Trails Regional Park one day, he was thinking of the various
possibilities. As he was doing so, the Davidsons passed by as they trudged along toward their home, totally
engrossed in their conversation and not realizing he was sitting on the bench, nor knowing who he was.
Not wanting to tell her of the planned meeting but holding off all week long, she was a little agitated upon learning
about it just then. This scheduled conference meeting with the world leaders was done in secret and with his having
to fly off to a location where even she wasn't allowed to know, irritated and worried her to no end. That was the
same night when they had previously planned to spend that time alone together and where she would have him all to
herself for a change. Hearing this caused the scientist to follow behind them at a discreet distance unnoticed where
he could snoop around the outside of their home after they entered through the front door. Unable to hear anything
from within, he waited for the situation to develop allowing him to formulate a plan of action. That's when he heard
and saw the Avenging Angel exit the home in flight a few moments later to meet with the conference leaders.
Thinking he could barter a deal with her life, he kidnapped her for ransom. Although he got his money, little did he
know it was laced with a traceable irradiated solution that the great avenger of truth could follow once the prisoner
He is now in an insane asylum with a mind that is deteriorating fast. That was the nature of coming into contact
with the solution --it left the contaminated perpetrator's brain somewhat like cold mush. It was some real nasty stuff,
but then again... nobody messes with this man called The Avenging Angel.