Dinah Cirzy<br/>Landing in New York City Municipal Airport<br/>Evening<br/><br/>Mankind has always dreamed of flight.  Only one man has ever achieved such a thing under his own power, and he is the next best thing to a god that we've ever had.<br/><br/>I sit with my legs crossed, one hand upon the armrest, the other playing one of the many games I often do when waiting.  It is not boredom that prompts me.  Boredom is a state of mind, and states of mind are such fluid things.  The glint of the golden Double Eagle glints, sparking through the eyes of the stewardess as she stares, fascinated by the quick flipping of the glistening coin.  I could call her over to me with a simple gesture, frown and crush her spirit with depression, or smile and make her feel good for the rest of the day.  I do none of these things and make the coin vanish, watching the lovely stewardess come to her senses with a rather amusing look of befuddlement.<br/><br/>The coin slides along my wrist with a cool kiss, a faint memory of a kiss I'd given to another so long ago.  It slips into the pouch hidden under my sleeve, much like the truth of what happened back then.  The plane is descending, the silent engines running on principles and designs created by a god gently lowering us as we approach the  center of human attention: New York, New York.  Doctor Manhattan is there; Rorschach feared and awe inspiring; the newly returned Nite Owl.<br/><br/>And Laurie.<br/><br/>The Comedian has died, an ignominious, seemingly pointless death, a giant felled at the foot of his home, like the one in the faerie tales.  But it would take someone with incredible skills, a determination born of either madness or desperation to kill him.  I can only guess at the few people who could manage it; the reason any of the people I could think of would have for doing it is another matter entirely, and beyond me.<br/><br/>"If you wouldn't mind fastening your seat belt, miss?"<br/><br/>I look up and smile at the stewardess, who blushes and looks down, though she isn't really sure why she should do so.  She doesn't remember, and won't ever remember, not really.  She might dream about it, or catch herself daydreaming of it, but it will never surface in her memories.  "Thank you, Suzy," I reply with a smile and do as she asks.  First class is full of tantalizing benefits, such as personal service when a bell and a lit sign could serve as well.  And a large and soundproofed washroom.<br/><br/>I sigh as the plane begins its final run and feel the heavy flutter of my heart.  Will Laurie have forgotten, sublimated what she could remember fondly with the reins of her parent's disapproval?  I remain very sure she doesn't know about her father; no one does, except her mother, and me.  Unless Doctor Manhattan knows.<br/><br/>And that thought sends shivers down my spine.<br/><br/>Soon I'll be in New York, and the hunt will begin.  Because I have to make sure, have to know that this is one thing Laurie doesn't find out the hard way.  Because if she does, it could do something to her, break something fundamental inside her.  I don't want that to happen.<br/><br/>Not unless it's me who does the breaking.  I deserve that much, at least.