Issue 56 – Helping Hands
Dr. Richards accepted the silver and white gauntlet agreeably, looking it over with everyone else.
“The Teutonic Cross. The Crux?” he asked, his voice level but cool.
“They call it a Hand of God or Angel Fist, I believe. Close-combat force-amplifying power weapon. Delivers a massive kinetic blow when it strikes something, but I think it’s only got the power to deliver half a dozen of them. Strong enough to send Mr. Grimm across the room, or make a normal human explode.”
“Interesting.” His fingers became flat and thin, inserted into several places, and with a combination of pressure, spinning, and leveraging, various screws and slotted components came apart rapidly, almost falling apart in his hands, at least as fast as I could disassemble it.
He looked over the circuitry and the capacitors coolly. “This battery is one of Wittman’s designs. This section is based on Kree technology, and that looks like a Skrull discharge array around the fingers.”
“Like they have in them staves some of their troopers use,” agreed Grimm, also looking it over. “Looks like their labs have been busy, Stretch.”
“The materials would slow them down, as getting the correct Isotopes for all these would not be easy.” Dr. Richards looked at me. “I’d like to study this for a bit if I could. Is there something you wanted with it?”
Voltage jumped between my hands in green-white arcs. “I’m a living bioelectricity generator. I don’t need any batteries or capacitors. I was hoping to remake the thing into a somewhat less ostentatious piece of work for my own use.”
“Some form of limited power armor, eh?” He smiled despite himself. “A lot of more advanced alien races stay away from power armor because of the existence of EMP disruptors. It’s far too easy to shut down power armor at their level of technology, so you rarely see them wearing such things, as they tend to be deathtraps. The amount of shielding required to have viable mechs or functional robotic soldiers means their normal soldiers get along on their admittedly prodigious natural gifts.”
“I’m detecting a dig at Stark and a lot of armor wearers,” I noted with amusement.
He waved it away. “We don’t have the same level of EMP technology readily available here... but we will someday. In the meantime, it’s noteworthy that armor wearers aren’t considered front-line troops against alien combatants in many instances. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Champions or High Guard have several examples of portable EMP technology in their arsenals.”
“Neither would I. But since I’m the power source, such a gauntlet would be inert until I sent the power through it.”
“An interesting and useful feature of such a device. I may be able to finetune a similar device to your needs. Do the bracelets you’re wearing work on similar principles?”
“If you mean ‘Am I the power source?’, yes. I don’t have a very good ranged component to my electricity, twenty paces at most. It modulates the charge to a plasma burst or precision attack from a general discharge thataway.” I waved in a rough direction at nothing.
“You have a unique outlook on your powers,” Susan Storm smiled. “Most people tend to be either very enthusiastic about them, or scared of them, in our experience.”
“Meh. Just more tools. Very convenient and powerful tools, mind you, but just tools.” I glanced at her. “I’ve heard that you do more than turn invisible. Something about force fields?” I inquired.
“I can generate invisible force fields and shape them to my will.” She opened her hand and closed it, and I felt something clamp tight around me.
There was a flash of silver from my hands, conducted up through the transparent shackles around me, and right to her forehead, blasting her back off her stool and against the wall. She fell to the ground awkwardly, nearly losing her nightgown.
“Sue!” shouted Dr. Richards, at her side instantly and cradling her head, which had a burn mark on her forehead. “What did you do to her?” he demanded instantly, and the other two men were looking at me hostilely, too.
“The discipline of Argent Savancy, control and disruption of Force effects. My apologies, it was reflex; I don’t like being bound up by anyone.” I pulled up the Amulet around my neck, and wrapped it around my fist as I Repulsed the chain open. “She’ll be fine in a moment.”
I stepped out from behind the island calmly, obviously not feeling threatened nor guilty. “One moment, Mrs. Richards.” She blinked at me and the glowing Amulet rather dazedly, still not sure exactly what had happened, and the teardrop pearl touched her forehead.
The burn mark of the Argent discharge vanished from her forehead, and moved over to mine, where it promptly began healing away and would be gone inside a few minutes. Her dazed state went away instantly, as did the pain in her back and posterior.
“Empathic Healing.” Dr. Richards looked at me both curiously and with newfound respect. “Do you have a measure of self-healing ability, as well?”
“All the voltage running through me gives my cells a lot of juice, in more ways than one,” I said, refastening the Amulet around my neck. I could actually just Cure the damage away, but I let it stand as it was. I held out my hand, and her lips quirked, but Mrs. Richards took it as I pulled her effortlessly to her feet.
“That’s not a true Force effect,” I informed her, “nor is it invisible. It’s aerokinetic; you’re holding air molecules solid. I gather you’ve never tried to form the effect in a vacuum?”
She paused as she stared at me, then over at her husband, who blinked as well. “No, I can’t say that I have...”
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“You will probably notice either limitations on area you can form, or the strength of the effect. The field isn’t invisible, it’s exactly as transparent as the air is. Because you’re using air, however, it’s still more energy-efficient than a pure force effect.
“I can’t tell if there’s a limit on what gasses you can grab and wield; that’s something for further testing. The first application I can think of is ripping air out of water and making your own air supply, among other things, or perhaps filtering breathable gases from smoke or airborne pollutants or poison. An extremely flexible and powerful ability, Mrs. Richards.”
“And taken down so easily,” she sighed, giving me a once-over. “Is that an alchemical discipline?” she had to ask.
“As it applies to Force effects regardless of source of creation, the Argent Savancy could be called alchemical in that it crosses all normal lines of study, I suppose. Higher tech levels of science, as well as psionics and magic, are all replete with Force effects.”
“A skill to wield different Force energies,” Dr. Richards began, and I saw the light in his eyes. “That sounds extremely interesting. If I could...”
“Reed!” the other three spoke up together, making him blink.
“Another time, Dr. Richards. Don’t eat one another’s muffins. I’ll come back in a day or two at a more reasonable hour. Is there an access code or something you would prefer I use?” I smiled.
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Okay, positive contact made with the Fantastic Four, I mused as I glided away. Richards would naturally want to test the heck out of me and my abilities, and I didn’t have a good reason to say no. Not revealing my Dealer abilities would be crucial, but seriously, there was so much to this Totemic stuff that it didn’t matter all that much.
Scaling up would be something, but I had thoughts about all of that, as well.
I was crossing the river when a shadow swung over and past me. Marginally surprised, I glanced over and saw a woman riding on a hover bike, Amazonian in figure with long brown hair, helmeted, and with a Shield slung over her back.
This would be... Peggy Carter-Rogers, wife of the Patriot, and the States’ second super-soldier and Shielder. Also the new Director of SHIELD for New York, since her husband had hooked up with the Avengers.
“Nice day for a fly,” I opened up, and she glanced at me with interest.
“A voice that carries right through the wind. Nice trick,” she called back, her own Voice reverberating with Core power and clearly audible. She wasn’t a psion, but all the Shields had Cores and could use Core Disciplines, often to devastating effect.
“To what do I owe the honor of a Shield escort?” I inquired calmly.
“You were involved in an altercation earlier between the Crux and the organization of Wilson Fisk. Not much later, one of his warehouses burned down, and oddly enough, two men who should have been in police custody were dragged out of said warehouse with severe injuries from beating.
“Now you come flying out of the headquarters of the Fantastic Four. SHIELD would like to know what is going on.”
I thought about that. “I am not willing to tell SHIELD that. I am, however, willing to tell YOU that. I am sure you can appreciate the distinction, Director.”
She seemed pleased that I knew who she was and her rank. “I can, and I know when to keep my mouth shut, too.” She pointed at one of the buildings we were coming up on. “Atop the Hilton there?”
“Sure.”
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She was just over six feet tall, with the Amazonian physique of mental and physical perfection the Super-Soldier Serum granted. There had been a LOT of attempts in various places to replicate the success of Dr. Erskine’s formula, but their success rates were bad in both achieving any results and especially in achieving mentally stable subjects.
On the other hand, there were now bunches of enhanced and violent men around willing to do violent things, who had to be fought with equally violent means. The Shielders were mentally and physically predictable in success, stable in mind and body, and widely trusted because of it.
Her hoverbike’s rotors turned sideways and became wheels, while gyros kept it standing upright after she came down on the hotel’s roof. She slid off it with smooth control as I landed, turning off Repulse and falling to the ground... or an inch above it, as it were.
She noticed all of it, of course. “So, what name are you going by?” she asked rhetorically, as if she’d seen it all before.
Bioelectricity swarmed between my hands, which did generate some interest. At least I wasn’t some poser tourist or a free Psion wandering around making a nuisance of themselves. “Dynamo,” I replied, shrugging, and powered up my bracelets visibly, shooting them once into the air as she watched.
“Appropriate,” she conceded politely. “But you have entered a dangerous world, Dynamo. Do you think you are ready for it?”
I had to smile slightly. “With all respect, Director, I was born into this world. It’s the mundane world I have problems with.”
“You definitely move like someone with training, and your composure is not that of a newcomer,” she admitted. “Are you a mutant?”
“No. Mutate, radioactive treatments, blah blah.” She sighed again, and I smiled slightly. “I understand it was done to save my life, but, yes, totally in agreement on that. I understand radiation poisoning deaths are not uncommon among those hungry for super-powers.”
“And those hungry to give them,” she nodded once. “Well, first tell me what happened tonight. I can adjust the official report accordingly.”