''Row, please, please hold the line!" said Alessandro aloud, as he tried to stop the crush from brawling in an attempt to snatch each other's seats. ''Look, it's enough that ... that's right, and the next guy back there.'' He extended his arm toward a woman in a worn sari, motioning her forward. ''Yes, ma'am, you go ahead.''

It took another minute to unravel, but eventually everyone present was neatly arranged in single file in front of Alessandro. The eyes of the entire group converged on the orange container stranded on the sand behind him.

''There, that's perfect, now that's fine,'' Alessandro announced smugly, resting his hands on his hips. ''So, who needs flour?''

All the onlookers raised their arms in unison.

''Okay, maybe the question was stupid,'' Alessandro admitted embarrassed. ''Look, let's do this, you tell me what you need based on the people you have in the house and I'll give it to you, okay?''

The first woman in the ranks, a girl with oriental features wearing a turquoise hijab, stepped forward.

''There are six of us in the family and we need twenty kilos of flour,'' he explained while keeping his eyes downcast.

''Twenty kilos?!" blurted out indignantly a man five seats back. ''He said what you need, you don't have to fill our pantry!''

"We have nothing in the house!" retorted the girl in shame.

''When you said, what you need, what exactly did you mean?" asked the dark-skinned older gentleman standing immediately behind the girl in the hijab. ''For a day or a week?

Alessandro rose on his heels to observe how far the line went. This one started from the wide-open doors of the container and crossed a good portion of the beach, stopping just short of the stone path that led all the way inside the abandoned resort. At a rough guess there must have been over fifty people

At least in theory, with the food contained in the container it would have been possible to feed even more people, but if he had merely given a day's supply to each of the people there, and then waited for more people to arrive (an unquestionable certainty, given the speed with which news of the landing of a shipment of food would have spread), he would soon have found himself having to deal with a line not of fifty, but of five thousand needy civilians.

It was obvious that this was a feat beyond his capabilities. And if, on the other hand, he had been crazy enough to simply tell them to help themselves, little but certain this would have set off a gigantic brawl, in which only the strongest and best-armed would have come out on top

Faced with such alternatives, better to give enough to a few than virtually nothing to many. In any case, as soon as the siege of the city was over, humanitarian aid convoys would take care of the matter in a far more professional manner.

''About a week,'' Alessandro replied, venturing a rough estimate.

''Then I need twenty kilos,'' the girl in the hijab confirmed to him.

''No problem''

And after turning on his heels he disappeared inside the container. Except for the echo of his footsteps on the metal floor, the only noises that could be heard at that moment were limited to the whispers of people in line, the lapping of waves on the shoreline, and the screeching of seagulls.

By the time he re-emerged from the container, the sun, which had been up for about twenty minutes, was beginning to overhang the tops of the withered palm trees that bordered the beach, and the pleasant rosy hue it spread across the sky had come to lap up even what remained of the Burj al-ʿArab, whose imposing ruins towered above an artificial islet three hundred meters from the mainland.

''Twenty kilos to you,'' Alessandro announced, placing a large green and white cloth sack in front of the girl. Beneath several Arabic inscriptions, the inscription in the center read, ''WHEAT FLOUR - ALL USES.''

''Thank you very much,'' the young woman said, bowing her head in appreciation.

Having lifted the package not without some difficulty, he therefore set off as fast as he could toward the road beyond the beach.

The dark-skinned older gentleman who followed squared Alessandro with interest.

For the occasion he had taken on the appearance of a 40-year-old man dressed in a heavy, electric-blue overalls, paired with a moss-green baseball cap, beneath which was a jovial face provided with a pair of dark beady eyes and a thick black beard. As soon as he had made eye contact with the elderly man, a broad smile rippled his lips.

"How much do you need?" she asked affably.

''Thirty kilos,'' replied the man. ''We are seven in the family.''

"Right away," said Alessandro all fired up.

Back inside the container he lingered there for almost a minute before his head peeped back through the ajar doors.

''There is no thirty,'' he explained in a mortified tone. ''Is twenty plus ten the same?''

''As long as the total is thirty it doesn't matter,'' the older gentleman informed him.

Heartened by the response Alessandro immediately went back inside, only to come out a few moments later holding in his hands two cloth sacks, one twice the size of the other.

''Here you go,'' he said as he laid them both on the sand at the waiting man's feet.

''Thank you,'' the older gentleman echoed him. And he too left, taking the two bags with him.

''Next,'' Alessandro announced, addressing an encouraging nod to the third person in line.

The man in question was wearing a long brown dishdasha, in addition to a red and white keffiyeh. Judging by the olive skin and the accent in his voice, he could have been a local.

''Is there anything else in there besides flour?" he asked in a blunt tone, pointing with his arm to the container doors. ''Rice, beans, or stuff like that?''

Alessandro shook his head contritely.

''I'm sorry, I've already checked,'' he confessed sadly. ''Unfortunately, there is only flour.''

Although he seemed clearly disappointed, the man decided not to press on.

''Fifty kilos,'' he said in a firm tone.

Several grim looks focused on the fellow's back, as if they were trying to electrocute him by sheer force of thought, but Alessandro pretended not to notice. Not even a minute later he was back holding a huge sack of flour on his shoulders, which he placed in front of the applicant with a satisfied air.

''Fifty kilos,'' he stated smugly, touching the brim of his cap.

''What association did you say you belong to?" asked the man in the keffiyeh, as he struggled to lift the bulky burden.

He had never actually said it, but since pointing it out would make him even more suspicious he decided to make it up on the spot.

''Of the...Traveling Young Humanitarian Foundation,'' he replied, nodding with conviction.

''Never heard of it,'' commented the dry man.

''We are new to the industry,'' Alessandro cut in short. ''Next up.''

The guy scrutinized him suspiciously, but when the roar of an airplane resounded through the sky he finished loading his sack on his shoulder in a hurry, and then stomped off across the sand in the direction of the road.

Meanwhile, the other people in line had looked upward, as if they feared they might suddenly see the silhouette of some military jet peeking out from behind a cloud.

''Don't worry, nothing will happen,'' Alessandro reassured them, flashing a broad smile at the people in line.

''The last person who had told me such a thing died crushed under a ten-ton column,'' the Indian girl in front of him revealed, continuing to keep an eye on the sky.

''Good thing we are outdoors so,'' Alessandro commented in a light tone. ''Go ahead, tell me.''

Albeit with some reluctance, the girl stopped looking up and focused on him.

''Twenty kilos,'' she said hastily.

Sensing her fears Alessandro decided to come to her aid.

''Let's try to speed things up.'' She leaned to the side and pointed to the two bearded and turbaned Sikhs standing in line behind her. ''You two back there, how much do you need?''

''Thirty,'' replied the former.

''Thirty for me, too,'' the second echoed him.

Alessandro raised his index finger in the air as if to ask for some patience

''Just a moment''

''Do you need help?" one of the two waiting Sikhs asked him, as soon as he saw him coming out of the container holding three twenty-something bags on his shoulders and two ten-something bags in his hands.

''No, thank you, I can manage,'' he replied quietly. And walked the last few steps that separated him from the line, he tipped the bulky burden onto the sand. ''So, to whom was what going?''

''To me twenty and the other thirty,'' replied the Indian girl.

''Okay''

''How did you get this container here?" one of the two men asked curiously, as soon as he had handed the young woman the sack she requested. ''Between the fleet and the aviation I thought it was impossible.''

''We have our own methods,'' Alessandro replied vaguely.

''Do we really not have to pay?" the other Sikh asked cautiously.

His companion shot him a dirty look, but Alessandro smiled.

''If we asked for money for this we would be a very strange charity, wouldn't we?''

A second rumble echoed through the sky, and although not a single plane was in sight this time either, all the gazes of those present instantly converged upward.

''I told you to take it easy,'' Alessandro repeated in an easygoing tone as the two Sikhs walked away with their sacks. ''They will not bomb today. In fact, the war will end very soon.''

"And how do you know?" asked a skeptical elderly lady wrapped in a long black abaya

''Be patient a little longer and you will see that I am right,'' Alessandro insisted serenely.

The woman raised her arms in an eloquent gesture.

''May Allah listen to you''

Alessandro smiled and rested his hands on his hips.

''The Next Three''

***

Wishing to enjoy the view of the sun rising over the desert to the last, Alessandro continued to keep his gaze to his right, although when he felt the upward momentum gradually diminishing, he finally decided to point his eyes downward. By now he was about to hit the ground.

At the moment it landed, a very strong wind was blowing over the observation deck of the Burj Khalifa. The huge breach, which had opened in the glass and steel barrier when the top of the skyscraper had collapsed, allowed the currents from the desert to rage without any more obstacles to hold them back. The parquet floor, which had become almost completely black from the fire that broke out months earlier, was covered with a thin layer of sand.

Given a brief look around, just enough time to admire his surroundings, Alessandro placed the large sack he was holding on his shoulders on the ground and checked its contents. Inside were two sacks of flour of twenty kilos each, plus one of ten, many cartons of long-life milk, as many packets of sugar, as well as several boxes of cookies, candies and chocolates.

At first glance, everything looked in order. If nothing else, the packages of sweets had not been dented too much, although it would have been delusional to hope that none of the cookies had already turned to dust.

Unfortunately, however, he could not do otherwise. Taking into account the fact that crossing the city on foot would have taken him forever, unless he was so reckless as to whiz down the streets at three hundred miles per hour, and flying in dragon form holding the sack between his paws would simply be out of his mind, the only viable route remained that one.

Of course, leaping from skyscraper to skyscraper could not be considered a totally risk-free option either, but being able to see something so small as it sped silently through the sky was still difficult, not to mention that even on the off chance that some passerby had managed to capture it, hardly anyone would have believed him. It would almost certainly have been thought to be a photomontage.

Putting his sack back on his shoulder, Alessandro approached the gap opened in the panoramic window around the observation deck, and looked at the landscape stretching below him. The city's buildings and skyscrapers, kissed by the morning light, stretched for several kilometers in all directions.

Dr. Latif's clinic was not supposed to be more than about twenty miles away, and if he kept going as he had been doing up to that point, another half-dozen jumps would be enough to reach it.

Locating the next target took but a handful of moments. After all, except for the one he was standing on, it was the tallest building within several blocks.

Taking a short run-up, he therefore sprinted in the direction of the gap and then took a leap forward. The leap proved to be quite accurate, although he ended up landing very close to the edge. Aware that the less he stood still the less likely he was to be discovered, he did not linger on the roof except for the time strictly necessary to locate his next target, represented by a sleek skyscraper equipped with a helicopter landing strip.

The moment he had reached it, he departed almost instantly, heading for a hotel with its facade gutted by a missile. The luxurious structure abutted an arm of the sea that penetrated several kilometers inland, and was surrounded by several equally opulent buildings, although a couple had collapsed completely, leaving behind nothing but rubble.

One of those still standing had a flat roof and had been painted such a bright white that it reflected sunlight as efficiently as a mirror

He had not yet begun to descend when Alessandro realized he had taken the wrong trajectory. At that rate he would have landed on the building with the glittering roof and not on the hotel. At first he was almost tempted to try to change direction, but when he realized that finding himself in such a place would hide him from view better than an invisibility cloak he decided to let it go, and he took advantage of the few seconds he still had left to think about what he would do once he got to the clinic.

If one considered the robbery of the Saudi cargo ship and the subsequent submarine transport to the coast, he believed for his part that he had exposed himself sufficiently for that day, without even having to add to it a prediction that was as totally unrealistic as it was accurate about the imminent end of the war

However, there was really nothing rash about relaxing at least a little before leaving for Somalia. Moreover, he liked the idea of giving Latif or his patients, and especially Chandra's family, an albeit small helping hand one last time. With the ingredients he had recovered, Abhay could drink all the milk tea he wanted. Not to mention the rest. He could already imagine the look on the little boy's face once he showed him the boxes of sweets contained inside the sack

Right, the sack. He couldn't show up with it. And if he happened to be told to leave it, how the hell was he going to explain that he couldn't? It was obvious that he had to find a solution to the problem quickly.

Perhaps he should have left everything just outside the clinic, retrieved a real container, and then returned to get the food. In fact, no. He would first enter the clinic with the bag on his shoulder and then replace it with something else.

Okay, but where exactly could he make the exchange? In the bathroom? No, it wasn't going. It would have been enough to cross Abhay ahead of time to screw up the whole plan.

Idea-just deliver the sacks of flour to the kitchens, go to Chandra's room, let them take it all out, and then make the sack disappear by pretending to stuff it in his pants pocket. Brilliant. Now all he had to do was.

Panic took hold of him as soon as he had turned his gaze toward the ground. The roof of the building toward which he was about to land, and which until a few moments before been virtually invisible because of the glare of the sun, could now be seen well enough to reveal the rows of photovoltaic panels neatly arranged above it.

The already tiny distance separating him from that sort of blue mirror barrier was shrinking by the second. What to do! Change shape?! And what would have become of the sack! Maybe if he had managed to...

Too late.

Alessandro impacted against the panel wall with the power of a meteorite, only to pass through it as easily as a knife penetrated butter. Once on the other side, however, he found not a solid surface waiting for him, but rather a long empty space that proceeded toward the ground for at least a good thirty meters

Shit!

Alessandro tried to turn, but he did not even have time to think of anything when his head impacted against a concrete railing. Penetrating several inches into the concrete with his forehead, he then bounced back, performed a mid-air spin, slammed his back against a steel railing, and plummeted headfirst several meters, before smashing through a glass-brick wall arranged parallel to the ground.

At that point, he finally touched the ground

As soon as he opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was the floor strewn with shards of glass and the black sack still stuck to his right hand. Since he could not let go of it, to get back on his feet he was therefore forced to prop himself up on his left. Despite the terrible tumble he felt no pain, nor did he feel that he was hurt, although he certainly could not say the same for his own pride

Above him, the skylight he had just broken through opened onto a huge stairwell of what was clearly a covered carport. About a hundred feet higher, beyond the hole he had created by crashing into the photovoltaic panels, a small sliver of sky could be discerned.

Emitting a sigh of frustration Alessandro quickly freed himself from the shards of glass that had become entangled in his clothes and then prepared to open the bag. After such a flight he should have considered himself lucky if at least one milk carton remained intact.

He was about to slip his hand through the opening when he caught out of the corner of his eye a movement to his right that prompted him to turn his head in that direction. Alessandro held his breath. An olive-skinned boy, few years younger than Abhay, was staring at him with his mouth ajar in front of a giant jeep, parked along with several other large cars behind the young boy

Not knowing how to justify his scenic irruption Alessandro decided to simply ignore that aspect, quickly moving the conversation elsewhere.

''Hey there baby,'' he began, sketching a conciliatory smile.

The child did not respond, and Alessandro began to feel nervous. In an attempt to stall for time he cleared his throat and then set about observing his surroundings. Everywhere he turned his gaze he saw nothing but a large number of cars, each of which was covered with a thick layer of dust mixed with sand.

''What are you doing around here?" he asked nonchalantly as he scanned the rows of parked vehicles, yet being very careful not to lose sight of his interlocutor.

''I was looking for food,'' the child replied in a high-pitched voice.

Alessandro raised an eyebrow.

"In a parking lot?

''Those who left maybe left snacks in the car,'' he explained in an innocent tone.

During the short break that followed, Alessandro took the opportunity to take a closer look at him. He was wearing a pair of bottle green shorts, a striped T-shirt with no logo, and a Pokemon-themed backpack. If it were not for the dust-smeared hands and tattered sandals on his feet, he could have been mistaken for a student returning from school.

''Do you have no food at home?" asked Alessandro cautiously, breaking the silence first.

The child shook his head.

''Yesterday Dad managed to find dates, but they were very dry, and we ran out anyway.''

In response, Alessandro opened the sack and checked inside. Miraculously, nothing seemed to be broken. Even the milk cartons appeared to be intact, although very bruised. Finding it outrageous to act otherwise, Alessandro curved his back slightly and motioned the little boy to come closer.

''Come on, come here,'' he said affably.

The child gave him an indecipherable look, but did not move.

''Don't worry, I won't do anything to you,'' Alessandro reassured him, renewing his invitation.

Albeit with a certain amount of hesitancy, the child began to move forward, although when he was about two meters from him he seemed to determine that it was not prudent to proceed further, so he stopped. Seemingly satisfied, Alessandro slipped his arm inside the sack.

''Your parents probably told you never to accept food from strangers, but in this case I think they would agree.''

Under the child's incredulous gaze he pulled out the ten-pound package of flour, two cartons of milk, a package of sugar, plus a particularly bulky bag of gummy candy. At that point he stepped back, so as to make it clear to his interlocutor that it was his intention to hand them over.

The child's eyes lit up.

''Are they really for me?" he asked in amazement as he grabbed the bag of candy and gazed at it eagerly.

''Of course,'' Alessandro calmly replied. ''Take care though, take everything home right away and try not to be seen. If you meet the wrong people they might try to rob you.''

The child nodded with conviction.

''Okay, I'll be careful.''

''Very good,'' Alessandro commented, pointing at him with an air of complicity. ''I'm counting on you.''

He closed the sack and put it back on his shoulder, but as soon as he had lifted his gaze to the smashed skylight, the child spoke again.

"Are you a superhero?

Alessandro lowered his head and met the little one's gaze. His eyes sparkled with admiration.

''Sort of,'' he admitted embarrassed. The child seemed to get even more excited, prompting Alessandro to add, ''Look, could you not tell anyone? I would be very grateful.

She knelt before him.

''It will be our little secret, all right?" she whispered, winking at him.

The child's lips stretched into a wide smile.

''I promise,'' he announced, nodding emphatically.

''Thank you,'' Alessandro said smugly.

And after getting back on his feet, he took a leap that led him first to bounce against a concrete railing halfway down the stairwell, and then to the roof of the parking lot, where he disappeared from view under the solar panel barrier

Once outside, Alessandro could only see the absolute impossibility of leaving following the same mode he had used up to then. Leaving aside the hole he had opened at the time of the crash, the photovoltaic panels looming above his head cast their shadows over the entire surface of the roof, leaving not even a small gap.

It was clear that before continuing his journey he had to get down from there and find a building that was clear enough to allow him at least a single jump. He did not want to further damage the food packs.

Having spotted a disused café with shattered glass just about ten meters below, he felt that he could find nothing better, so he prepared to jump over it. Since there did not appear to be any passersby nearby, and the sign on the cafe's roof was very large, it would have been sufficient to land behind the neon sign and take off immediately afterwards to minimize the risk of being spotted

A roar of frightening power ripped through the silence

Alessandro instinctively looked upward, but all he saw was the back of the solar panels. In any case, he did not have to lean over the edge of the roof to trace the cause, as two military jets darted across the sky only moments later. Alessandro saw them fly over the neighborhood where he was standing, the next one, and the one after that, until he saw two small dark silhouettes detach themselves from the underside of the two aircraft, then plummet downward.

The echo of the explosions reached him almost at the same moment as the blaze of fire and the blanket of smoke that followed began to rise from the point of impact of the devices. The realization of what had just happened hit him with such impetuosity that he could not have been more affected even if it was he who had been bombed

Without a second thought, Alessandro tipped the entire contents of the sack in front of the trunk of a dust-submerged sedan, and after assuming the guise of a peregrine falcon, rocketed off in the direction of the columns of smoke.

It could not have been what he feared. He must have been mistaken. Maybe he had seen wrong. After all, there was no reason to hit the clinic. And anyway, the war was over! Bashir had assured him that he would end the bombing as soon as possible.

That the order had not yet reached the troops, despite all the hours that had passed since he had left Riyadh? No, it was simply absurd

But then what the heck was the explanation! Had the pilots gone mad and attacked for the sake of bombing?

He was still asking himself those questions when he arrived at the site of the explosion, where he discovered that his worst fears were unfortunately well-founded. The target of the two missiles was indeed Dr. Latif's clinic.

Swooping downward, Alessandro landed behind the rusting carcass of an old car on the street corner, and then regained human form. Running at a speed far greater than he would normally allow himself to display in public, he then burst into the clinic courtyard where he was confronted by a chilling spectacle.

The entire west section of the structure had collapsed along with much of the east section, dragging behind several rooms and completely leveling the infirmary. Fatima and Uma were giving first aid to survivors, while Latif and Jaleel tried to pull the bodies of patients still trapped under the debris from the rubble. The courtyard floor was littered with the wounded, some simply shaken and traumatized, others in such a pitiful condition that it seemed impossible to seriously believe they were still alive.

The air was soaked with dust and reeked of death.

Driven by the emotionality of the moment Alessandro was about to run up to Latif to help him extract any survivors from the rubble, when he saw Chandra shouting in front of the door leading to the kitchens, inside which a fire seemed to have broken out so fiercely that the flames had even reached the doorframe at the entrance.

''Abhay!!!'' she screamed at the top of her lungs as she desperately tried to find a gap in that wall of fire. ''Abhay!!!''

Realizing what was happening, Latif stood between her and the fire and then tried to reason with her. Chandra, however, did not calm down and continued to shout her son's name, stubbornly wanting to advance toward the kitchens. Circling around the injured people huddled on the courtyard floor, Alessandro reached the two and turned to the woman.

"What's going on?" he asked in a hasty tone.

Latif seemed surprised by his unexpected appearance, but Chandra did not mind at all, rather gave him a hopeful look, and immediately began to speak.

''Abhay is-he came in,'' she sobbed through her tears, pointing with her arm to the fire beyond the door. ''He must be there because I can't find him anywhere and...''

Alessandro did not wait for her to finish the sentence and hurled himself over the doorway, disappearing into the flames. Chandra brought her hands to her mouth in shock as Latif cried out in terror, ''No!!!''

Barely ten seconds elapsed, at the end of which Alessandro emerged from the wall of fire holding Abhay's unconscious little body in his hands. Both appeared unharmed, although thin spirals of smoke continued to rise from Alessandro's clothes.

Judging by his shocked expression, Latif seemed not to believe his eyes.

''But how...''

''Forget the how!" shouted Alessandro to him, handing him the child's body. ''Save him!!!''

Having recovered from his initial bewilderment, the doctor did as he asked, and after laying Abhay down in the first vacant seat he could find, he immediately began to perform the resuscitation maneuver on the child's unconscious body

A few meters away, her sister Nadia, also unable to move due to the cast encasing her leg, observed the scene by lying on the courtyard floor, while meanwhile Fatima, Uma and Jaleel continued to assist the injured.

Having performed mouth-to-mouth respiration for the second time, Latif stopped to take Abhay's pulse, and then immediately resumed CPR. Chandra watched helplessly with tears flowing relentlessly down her cheeks, Alessandro, on the other hand, merely stared vacantly at the attempts to resuscitate the little boy, who continued to remain unconscious.

A minute passed, then two, until just as the third one struck, Latif brought his index and middle fingers close to Abhay's carotid artery to measure his pulse. At that point he turned to Chandra and shook his head sadly.

The woman's eyes became huge and a moment later she let out a terrible scream. A cry of pain and despair that made her skin crawl. Collapsing on her knees beside her son's body, she clutched him tightly to her and took to cradling him, crying with lowered eyelids. Meanwhile, having found out what had happened, Nadia had also burst into tears. Her sobs joined those of her mother in one heartbreaking wail, which echoed through the courtyard along with the moans of pain of the wounded.

Realizing that his presence had now become superfluous, Latif returned to his feet and ran to help Fatima and Uma with the patients.

As for Alessandro, he neither did nor said anything, remaining motionless where he was and staring with an impassive expression at that dreadful spectacle. However, although it was literally impossible to catch the slightest emotion from his face, as Chandra hunted yet another poignant cry addressed to the sky, his hands clenched into fists.