The Power of Ten Book Four: Dynamo

“Sure. I can give a tour to any of the others who want to come over, too, as long as I clear it with the FF ahead of time.”

“Uh, can I invite some other friends, too?” Peter Parker asked quickly.

I raised an eyebrow. “I actually wanted to get some work done, but if you just want a tour on your day off, sure. Are they aware of who you and your friends actually are?”

“Uh, no...” he admitted.

“Then that’s something you should do for them on your time, not mine. Actually, once Dr. Richards realizes you invented those web-shooters at your age, he’ll probably be pretty interested in you.”

“What? Really? Me?!” he exclaimed, pointed at himself.

“Know any other local geniuses who invented a multi-use, incredibly strong and adhesive polymer compound that dissolves in an hour while they were in high school? How about non-local geniuses?” I let that trail off as I watched him fidget in embarrassment.

“I think Dr. Richards invented a rocket fuel compound about the same age, looking back at his body of work,” I added, rolling my eyes and then fixing on him again.

“Uh, wow...” he managed. I reached out and thorked his head.

“Parker, Schmot Peeps are incredibly valuable people. Would it be fair to say that basically no one you hang with understands just how smart you are?”

He fidgeted and looked away. “They just know I’m a total geek and a nerd. That’s not a popular thing to be in high school.” I just lifted an eyebrow. “No, they just know I’m smart. I have to play it a little dumb just to get accepted a bit. I’m not even the highest in the class...”

“And the reason you’re not taking more advanced classes in a college or something is because-?”

He sighed loudly. “My aunt and uncle believe I need the social experience in high school more.” The look he sent at me was completely envious of my situation.

“From their point of view, they are absolutely right. They are normal people, and normal people get through life by leaning on one another, building connections, and having friends and family to turn to when they can’t do something by themselves. Those kind of things don’t just fall out of the sky, you know.”

“I... but... “ he grimaced.

“You feel like there’s so much more you could be doing. All the stuff you’re learning is levels below you, so easy to pick up and regurgitate?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed, clenching his fists, and looking up at the ceiling. “I want to learn more, learn faster, and I’m getting tested and force-fed all this simple, easy stuff-!” The frustration in his voice was totally believable.

“So, a work-study program at the Baxter Building would be totally doable?” I inquired.

His eyes snapped down to me in shock. “Work-study?”

“You’ll have to comp out of the classes you’ll be missing. Will that be a problem?” I went on, as if he’d not said anything.

“Yes! I mean, no! No! No, that won’t be a problem at all!” he spluttered eagerly. “How, how can I do that?”

“Impress Dr. Richards and me, and talk to your teachers and counselor about how to go about that kind of thing.”

“I will! I definitely will!” He grabbed my hand and shook it hard several times, then turned around and whooped, heading up the stairs at a spring, hooting the whole way.

---

I watched him go with a raised eyebrow. “Well, that was easy enough...”

Director Carter stepped out of the adjoining hall, looking in the same direction. “He’s a good lad, just needs someone to start him on a road who can understand him.”

“I’m aware of how smart you Shielders are, Director. But it’s a different kind of smarts, of course.”

Her brown eyes flickered. “There’s not too many people who understand that, Dynamo.”

“And you’re wise enough to not put it on display and cram it down their throats. Just let the world continually underestimate you and yours, it works out a lot better that way.”

“You speak like someone who is continually being underestimated.” Blue Shield John Walker walked up to join us. “Still up for that spar?”

“Does it have to be physical, or can we do this mentally?” I queried back, and they both blinked at me.

“Mentally?” Walker asked, as I met his eyes. “What’s that mean?”

“It means I trust your ability to run through scenarios. Without strapping on some power armor to get a strength advantage and impact resistance against me, you don’t have a chance against me in a fight unless you get in a very lucky shot with your sidearm.” I tilted my head at him calmly as Director Carter looked on. “You saw everything today. What data do you need filled in to be sure of your own assessment?”

“How strong is your Attract and Repulse ability?” he asked instantly, and the Director nodded as well.

“It depends on how much juice I put into it. It defaults to somewhere between two and three times as strong as I am physically.” Meaning I by default could stick to something and tear off my arm trying to pull free of it, if it was strong enough.

The two Shields glanced at one another tellingly. “Is it limited to your hands and feet?” the Director asked for both of them, having watched the whole training episode as well.

“No. I can manifest it from any and all parts of my body.”

Walker whistled despite himself, and the Director nodded slowly as they stared at me. “That’s like the spider-kids’ wall-crawling ability, only weaponized,” Walker commented.

“Not sure why you haven’t told them to use it in combat. Perfect grip and sticky fighting is incredibly valuable in a fight.” I kept his eyes as I folded my arms across my chest. “Anything else you need to know?”

“Can you deal with power armor?” he asked pointedly.

“In a test of endurance, unless you’ve a limitless power supply, I’ll outlast a suit. If it comes to slugging, are you familiar with the Crux’s Hand of God?” I held up one hand, there was a crack and snap, and the white field coalesced around my fist. “For armor.”

He looked at me incredulously, at the equally impressed Director, and threw up his hands. “And you can track fast-moving objects through multiple vectors and angles...”

“My reflexes are as fast as yours, if not faster. Lots of time to calculate things in a fight, yes.”

“Then this session is all about me.” I arched my eyebrow at him. “We don’t get to tangle with superior combatants on a friendly basis too often.” His knuckles cracked faintly as he clenched his fists, smiling down at me. “I’m going to bring it like I rarely get to. This should be fun!”

-------

“Uncle!”

“Uncle!”

“Uncle!”

“Uncle!”

“Uncle!”

The open-hand portion of our sparring was basically a series of one-second exchanges at the beginning, him rapidly calling out as soon as I stuck his hands to wherever they hit, generally my arms, and simply waded in on him, pulling him in with my superior strength even as he tried to retreat.

He couldn’t sneak a blow past my reflexes, and he could see every one of my blows coming, but found it very hard to get out of the way of them.

As I promised, I had no problem following multiple things going on, so sneak attacks and using the terrain didn’t work. When Shield-bounces off the ceiling, the pillars, and the walls that popped up didn’t catch me off-guard or even divert my focus much, it was plain that in close combat he simply couldn’t deal with me.

I could literally stick him to me, render him almost helpless with superior strength and locking myself to the floor, and then simply grab and do whatever I wanted to him, from blinding him with eye stabs, channeling voltage through his brain, breaking his neck, tearing off his jaw, or cracking any or all of his bones. I could even stand on his toes, curl my legs backwards, and shatter his knees by forcing them to bend the wrong way.

He finally had to just call off my Sticky-fu and tell me just to use normal techniques so he could test himself against me.

That was a fun session of exchanging back-and-forths. He had a lot more variation than I did, I could simply move faster.

He thought the Sun Strike was going to surprise me when he finally landed the combination and put one in my breadbox. I slid backward five feet.

“Finally!” I exclaimed. “How much more open did I have to get before you used that?” I complained.

His grin faltered, and fell as Director Carter, watching all this raptly, just shook her head. “You knew?” Walker protested.

“A Psychic Focus reverberates in your Kirlian Aura!” My hands sparked tellingly. Electricity, duh. “Of course I knew! Just like I can sense the basic ki in your fists!” I rolled my eyes, dusting off my stomach. “Do I look like that hurt at all?” I said crossly. “Stop holding back or I’m going to start bouncing you off everything!”

He took that seriously, and the fight rapidly entered a new stage.

Shielders were all Core-users, and in addition had at least basic profound training in ki to enhance their static ability to inflict damage, enabling them to fight against all manner of opponents normal mortals couldn’t. He had at least the basic solid heavyfoot, could unleash a Sun Strike and hit like a total brick, and had been waiting to surprise me with all that.

My utter lack of surprise just meant he could really start doing high-end stuff that even when sparring with other Shielders he had to be careful with, but I could take it without too much trouble on my end.

Despite himself, he was still surprised when I brought up my gloves during charge-runs at him, and the dum-dum bullets he was emptying at me from all angles started bouncing back at him, forcing him to dodge abruptly or be nailed by his own shots. That turned into an acrobatic chase through the pillars and ramps as he fired furiously at me, going through a lot of rubber bullets as he tried to pin me down, bouncing the shots off the floors, walls, and ceilings in a blizzard of incoming fire.

The shots bounced right back to him as the Full-Temp steel on my forearms and hands deflected the glancing shots off to newer and interesting angles, helped along by my Repulse and ki. His Shield could deal with all of it, of course, but it couldn’t guard every angle, as he couldn’t move it fast enough to do so.

Naturally enough, I didn’t start shooting at him myself until he wanted me to, and then I put him through the paces with his own tactics of angled shots, rapid-fire that never seemed to want to stay centered on his Shield and pounding uselessly on it, and basically ever-moving streams of mostly-harmless charged energy were moving wildly around him as he dodged and deflected as fast as he could.

Being able to maneuver as fast, aim as accurately, and shoot as rapidly as I could, it was akin to dodging the incoming fire of dozens of shooters, and he was definitely getting a workout!