Collaborative Fan-Fiction: Alan Marcus aka Catalyst- UES Dreamcatcher

Origin of Alan Marcus
Year 2035: Age 8
        Familiar pale blue walls greeted me as I drifted back into consciousness. My mother sat to the left of me with her hand wrapped about mine, loosely clenching it. I turned to her and returned the smile she beamed at me with. She looked up and to the other side of me, saying something I couldn’t make out. My eyes were still fuzzy from what the doctors had given me, so I put my head onto my pillow and watched her talk.
        My eyes snapped wide. What was that? It didn’t hurt, but something changed. Whatever it was, I couldn’t even describe it. All I knew was it surprised me. My mother must have noticed me moving because her hand closed on mine. She spoke over me to the doctor once again, nodding gently. I loved to watch her lips move. The shade of red she wore reminded me of hard candy, bright and shiny.
        Everyone always joked with me that I only had two interests in the world. Candy and computers. They could always get my attention with one or the other.
        The sensation came over me once again as the doctor beside me touched the back of my head, where they cut into me when I slept. I sought words to describe it, but I didn’t know how.
        “Hello, Alan,” his mother mouthed.
        The strange sensation accompanied the words her mouth formed. Could this be sound? Was I hearing her? I put my fingers to her lips and then signed to her. “Is that you?”
        She nodded as her face melted into the warmest, largest smile I had ever seen. For some reason, she also started to cry. What did I do to make her sad all of the sudden?
        In the knowing way she always seemed to have when it came to what I was thinking, she shook her head from side to side. “It’s OK. Nothing is wrong. Mommy is just very, very happy right now. So happy I don’t have room for any tears inside of me, so they are leaking out. I may never be able to be sad again.”
        I felt the grin spread across my face. She could be so silly. I put my hand up to the new device attached to the back of my head, gingerly touching it. It was so small when they showed it to me, but it felt bigger when I ran my fingers on the smooth plastic of its casing.
 I loved it immediately, for no reason greater than the fact it made her happy.

Year 2039: Age 12
        “Your teacher sent me another message this afternoon. You weren’t paying attention while in class again.” Father said as I entered the kitchen for dinner. “What have I told you about doing that?”
        I hated it when he started berating me before he said hello to me after coming home from work. “I already figured out that math problem and the next ten on the page. Why should I sit there and listen to her explain the answer to everyone else?”
        “Because she is there to teach you. You don’t know everything.” He pointed at the chair across the table from him, directing me to sit down. “I don’t want you messing with your implant again. It isn’t meant for you to play with.”
        “I wasn’t playing with it. Mom taught me how to adjust the inputs--“
        He slammed his palm on the table to cut me off.  “Your mother knew what she was doing. I can’t fix it if you break it. She could have, but I can’t. What are we going to do if you do break it? You tell me that?”
        Even after a year of her being gone, he still got angry every time I mentioned her. “I’m not going to break it. And if I do, I’ll fix it. I know where she keeps the design schematics.”
        He glared at me for an instant before leaning back in his chair and threw his head back, laughing. He so rarely laughed since she disappeared, I didn’t know what could have brought such a reaction on. It didn’t last long, but when he finished, he crossed his arms on the surface of the table and locked his gaze on me. “You’re so much like her. Give you a blueprint and you can wave your hand and fix anything, can’t you?”
        I pursed my lips, unsure how to reply. This was new territory. Father rarely mentioned her since the Space Force called off the search for her and the rest of her team a year ago. “She could… I mean CAN fix anything.”
They officially declared her dead three months after they ended their efforts to find her. Leave it to the government to give up that easily. Logic might dictate they were right, but I knew better. Mom always said, “Without proof, then it isn’t a fact.” The Space Force never had any evidence the space station had been destroyed, therefore there wasn’t any proof she was dead.
“Look, Alan,” he brought down his head, leaving his eyes to where I couldn’t see them. “I want to believe she is alive out there too. I really do. But the truth is she isn’t here with us right now. It has to be you and I looking out for one another. If I ask you to do something, you need to listen to me. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I agreed. “But it is boring to sit there when I already know what she is teaching. Is it my fault everyone else in the class is stupid?”
“Hey,” Father barked. “That is very unkind. I’m not good at math. Are you calling me stupid, too?”
“No, but…” I didn’t mean to be hurtful, but how else could I say it? My grades in all my classes were near perfect and it took hardly any time for me to do my assignments. I never had homework because I could answer all the questions in my textbook before I left school for the day. I thought of my classmates, several of whom were good friends and saw my father’s point. “I’m sorry.”
“Tell you what.” Father held his hand out across the table. “If you promise to never say anything like that again, and to leave your implant alone, I will come to your school tomorrow and talk to your teachers. If your classes are too easy for you, maybe we can do something to make them more challenging. Agreed?”
I took his hand and shook it, feeling more grown up somehow. “Sure thing, Dad.”
       

Year 2044: Age 17
        “Now, with your current program, I see you’re considering a double major in electrical engineering and neural biology. Is that correct, Mr. Marcus?” My faculty advisor, Mr. Smith asked over the viewscreen. “Those are both very difficult programs. Are you sure you are up to handle that heavy of a class-load?”
        “Without any doubt, sir,” I replied.
        “Good, good. I take it you have interest in our research into bio-augmentation.”
        “I think you already know the answer to that question.” I smiled. “You know how that technology has already had a big impact on my life. I want to be a part of that. You know, from lab rat to lab technician. Maybe one day, lab leader. That’s where the best cheese is, right.”
        I paused and waited for his amused chuckle before adding in my own.  I needed him to sign off on my curriculum plan. Even though he was an old acquaintance and co-worker of my mother’s, he was also a stickler for regulations. Dad advised me to open and forthright with him, but to show humor and humility. He also warned me not to bring up the fact Mom beat him out of several scientific awards or to compare myself to her in any way.
I needed to present myself as a fresh slate to him, not as a constant reminder of someone dozens of IQ points higher than he saw himself.
“That’s what I like to see, my boy,” Mr. Smith said. He scribbled some notes on his data-pad. “Goals and a healthy ambition to achieve them.” He set down his stylus. “But your age concerns me. I, of course, am aware of your accomplishments, of course. Top grades. Multiple leadership roles in a variety of your school activities. Your academic resume is impressive, but are you going to burn out if you continue such a pace?”
This was a question I had expected and prepared for. “For my argument, I will refer you to Newton’s First Law. An object in motion will stay in motion. Through effort and diligence, I’ve gotten to this point. I’m not afraid to work hard. In fact, I thrive on challenge.”
I gave a small pause before continuing, before delivering my coup de grâce. “I know that I will need help, too, from time to time. That’s why I feel so fortunate that you are my advisor. My mother always spoke so highly of you and how much she admired you, back before she… Well, I’m sure you know what you meant to her.”
“She was a wonderful woman. Her disappearance was a tremendous loss.” He drew his mouth to a tight line and brought his fist up, lightly pinching his lower lip between his thumb and finger, catching me in an intense, thoughtful stare. “I do keep up with your father, from time to time. How is he coping with his diagnosis?”
That question wasn’t one I prepared for. I didn’t know Dad had shared his condition with anyone other than me and his parents. My throat tightened, making me swallow as I attempted to temper my reaction to the question. “He’s doing well. They caught it early.”
“That is good to hear,” Mr. Smith said. He brought his hands together and rested them on the surface of his cluttered, wooden desk. “I’m sure you understand my concern, though. You would have a very full plate if only your classes were the issue. I would say less than five percent of our students could manage it under the most ideal circumstances. What if things change?”
The question I had been asking myself ever since he came home one day, cooked an extra-special dinner of all my favorites, and as we did dishes together, he filled me in on what the doctors told him. “He keeps telling me there isn’t anything to worry about, and I believe him. Over the last few years, we’ve gotten close. Closer than I ever imagined we would. He’s all art and people and belief.”
“When we were all together as a family, I never understood why they were married. It was me and her against him. Science vs wishy-washy wing-and-a prayer, leap-of-faith type crap. Don’t get me wrong, they loved one another, but they were so different. And she was Mom. Of course, I favored her.” I’d never admitted that to anyone else or said it aloud while alone in my room. Not even the therapist I saw after Mom had been declared dead could get that out of me. “After it happened, the space station disappearing, it was tough. For both him and I, but mostly for me. I missed her so much. I still do. But he taught me one lesson, every day, over and over, until I finally understood it. You can’t stop living because bad things happen.”
Mr. Smith reclined back in his chair and steepled his hands on his chest as he listened. “True, but that doesn’t mean there shouldn’t be an adjustment period or a time to prepare for such occasions, if one is forewarned. Why overburden one’s self when a crisis might be at hand?”
“I don’t think you are getting the point, sir.” I cocked my head and took a deep breath. “Either a person has control of their own actions or circumstance chooses. My going to school is what is best for him. Believe me, Dad and I have talked about this. He doesn’t want me to give up on what I have been working so hard to do. I’ve asked him multiple times if wants me to take the year off to help him through his treatment. His answer is always the same.”
“And what is that?” Mr. Smith asked.
“Hell no.” I shrugged and smirked, remembering how my father looked while saying it. “There is a world of worse-case scenarios out there, and my worst-case would be you being stuck here with you looking after me when you could be out there learning what you need to know to change the world. Frankly, you’re too bossy to be my nurse.”
The edges of Mr. Smith’s thin mouth curved upward a hair. “That does sound like your father.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “He swears he is going to be fine. His parents and sisters promise to be there for him while I am at school. I’ve studied biology enough to know he isn’t as well as he wants me to think he is, but my being there would only add stress to his condition. I wouldn’t regret giving up a year or two to be at his side, but he would. As much as it hurts me to leave, it might hurt him more if I stayed. I can’t risk that. I have to choose to do what he wants if I want him to have the best chance to get better.”
“And I suppose a heavy class-load will help keep your mind off what he is going to be facing?” Mr. Smith picked up his stylus and rolled it between his fingers.
“It couldn’t hurt.”


Year 2046: Age 19
        I walked back into the research laboratory for the first time in three months. Other than a foot-high pile of correspondence on my desk, everything looked just as I remembered it. Several of my co-workers huddled together and whispered while others looked up from their work with wide eyes. I wouldn’t have been a bit surprised if they didn’t expect me to return.
        Up until this morning, I hadn’t decided whether or not I would.
        I dropped my belongings in their satchel into the large, bottom drawer of my desk. Glancing at the names on the top few labels of my pile of mail, I found them to be uninteresting. Or at least, not enough to spark enough interest to open over the elephant in the room. I pushed the mail pile over, splaying it across my desk and walked over to the double doors at the far side of the room.
        “Alan. Hold on.”
        The lead scientist I worked with for the last year, Dr. Robert Michaels, called out to me from the back of the room as he rose from his design table.
I moved to the side of the room to intersect his path toward me. “Dr. Michaels. I didn’t mean to interrupt your morning.”
“Don’t fret, dear boy.” Dr. Michaels said. “You’re always welcome here. How are you doing? You got our cards, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Everyone has been very kind. Thank you.” I replied. “I’m nearly fully recovered, or at least that’s what the BADGE physicians keep telling me.”
“Such a strange, unexpected world we live in. Who would have thought these Morphon particles the Legion brought would change the world so quickly?” Doctor Michaels shook his head and tutted. “Everyday, normal people suddenly developing super-human abilities. There have always been theories and ill-conceived experiments I’ve read about or heard whispers of over the decades, but to see it happen right before my eyes. What is it like?”
I looked down at my hands, turning my palms up and fully extending my fingers. People kept asking me that question and I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t feel any different than I had before my exposure but as soon as I actively thought about it, my palms began to itch. I half expected sparks to fly from my hands or some amazing flare of energy, but it never did. “Strange. If I had expected anything, I don’t think this would be anywhere close to it.”
As if on que, I could hear every conversation on the floor, as well as the fans circulating air, fingers typing on keyboards, heartbeats within people’s chests, and every other ambient sound within the room. “Can we go sit in the lounge?”
“Of course. Are you OK?” Dr. Michaels asked, his voice coming across as a scream.
I took out my control table from my shirt pocket and lowered the audio sensitivity to my implant to its lowest setting. “I’ll be fine. It’s going to take time to get used to it.”
He and I exited the lab and moved to the small meeting room we used as a staff lounge. I took a seat while he stepped to the counter and poured both of us a cup of coffee. He placed one before me before taking a seat at the opposite side of the table. “Did you get to spend much time with your father?”
Dr. Michaels’ face froze in horror. He turned his head to one side, biting his bottom lip while obviously searching for the conversations rewind button. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…I’m so sorry.”
Responding to his guilt would have been my standard reaction, but the mention of the subject of my father still staggered me. “I’m told he was in my room every day.”
“And you didn’t wake up from your coma until after he passed. I knew that. Sometimes, for a scientist, I can be so very stupid. Please forgive me. I never should have mentioned him.” He clenched his fists as they rested on the table, distressed by his slip of tongue.
I took a sip of coffee as an excuse to not speak. Stale and needing sugar, I let the flavor sit on my tongue until I felt ready to speak again. “Don’t beat yourself up about it.” I wiped away the growing collection of damp around my eyes. “I had known for some time that his time was limited. We said everything we needed long before the day came that he passed. I…” I knew what I was saying was pure BS, so I stopped before digging any deeper.
The accident robbed me of the last days with my father. I was down two parents now. I’d never see either of them again. My heart ached so much more than it had when we lost Mom. Was it because I was older when he died, because I was forced to abandon him when he needed me, or was it because of a thousand other reasons I couldn’t think to name? I closed my eyes to halt the growing tide of tears.
“He talked to me the whole time. He hoped I could hear him, but knew I couldn’t, since they deactivated my implant and removed what they safely could for testing.” I drew in a deep breath, relieved to be talking with someone other that my extended family. Every time I spoke, they would close in and want to hug or touch me, trying to be comforting. It’s very hard to talk when someone’s shoulder is buried in your face. “Being the clever devil he was, he recorded every visit he had with me so I wouldn’t miss anything he said. That way he knew I’d know what he said if he went before I woke up.”
He didn’t say anything for a few minutes as we sat and drank our coffees. Either he didn’t how to respond or didn’t want to interrupt me if I continued. I’d spent the last few weeks listening to each of the recordings, laughing at his dad jokes and his stories. I couldn’t keep from thinking that if he hadn’t wasted the energy talking to me each of those thirty days, he might have still been there when I woke up.
The silence finally became too oppressive for me. I came here for a purpose and needed to see it through. “Have you made any progress since…?”
“Since you’ve been gone?” He asked. “Nothing groundbreaking. We’ve repaired most of the equipment. We are looking at other candidates for testing the Enhanced Artificial Intelligence device on, but as you know, there aren’t many people with implants such as yours.”
“I’d like to get back to work on it next week, but until I get this blasted power under control, I can’t undergo the procedure again.”
“Nobody’s asking you to, lad,” he chuckled. “It’s a grand idea you have, creating a cybernetic intelligence modifier. While so many people are looking at creating purely artificial intelligences, you are attempting to level the playing field to give everyone maximized access to their own brain’s capability. It could change everything. Instead of only some people being able to understand higher level mathematical and scientific concepts, all of humanity would share the same gift to process conscious thought.”
“You don’t need to sell me on my own idea,” I said with a grin. “But I do need a favor from you.”
“Whatever you’d like,” Dr. Michaels nodded. “Just ask.”
 “I’d like to see the lab and the footage of the accident, if I could.”
His face blanched. “Why would you want to see that? Alan, you didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing could have changed what happened.” He said. “We’ve gone over every detail, every minute bit of data we recorded. The power surge generated when you connected to the EAI interface…there was no way we could have predicted it.”
I cracked my neck as I rotated it. “I know. BADGE told me all about how the Morphons are completely unpredictable ever since the Legion introduced them to the atmosphere. But I don’t remember anything of that day. It’s like a huge piece of ME is missing.” I tapped my chest as I said this, emphasizing where the incomplete sensation came from. “I have to see what happened myself so I can process it. It probably doesn’t make any sense, but it’s what I need.”
He thought for a moment. “Bring me a release from your doctor and we will set a date. I want someone from the psych department there, just in case.” He pursed his lips. “There may be a reason why your brain doesn’t want you to remember what happened. I don’t want to be a part of anything that is going to hurt you more that you already have.”
“I appreciate that,” I said. “And I don’t blame you for being precautious. But I have to do this. I’ve been forced to sacrifice too much to get this far, my father gave too much for me to get here. Some good has to come from it, doesn’t it?”


Year 2049, Age 22
        The stars glisten high above me as I walked across Central Park, hustling to make it to the restaurant. I’d forgotten I had made plans for dinner until Dena sent me a text reminding me to bring her flowers. It had become our habit. My work schedule frequently ran over and left her waiting for me to arrive. She was the kind of girl who didn’t mind waiting for me while still making the point her waiting deserved acknowledgement and appreciation.
        She was smart, attractive, and absolutely perfect.
        I wasn’t going to be late for once, and I decided tonight would be the night to surprise her. The flowers were in my hands and a special something else I had purchased last week rested in my jacket pocket.
        A mechanical horse pulled a carriage along the sidewalk with an older couple leaning on one another in the rear seat. Glowing white lights mounted to the frame sparkled as it trotted along. I bet Dena would love to do this after dinner. God, I hope she says yes.
        My new cognitive enhancement project was going very well. After the invasion by Legion, I made several connections with BADGE and its affiliated heroes, thanks to my computer, and Morphon-granted, skills. While I didn’t fight directly with other “heroes”, I had earned a codename, CATALYST, and assisted in the BADGE HQ during most of the conflict and occasionally afterward.
        It turned out that while the Morphon-abilty I gained did cause my accident, it also proved to be very useful in my work once I figured out how to control it. I could enhance, or negate, most systems that benefited from the use of energy. When it first triggered as I attempted the trial run with my EAI device, plugging me into a cybernetic database, the ability manifested and flooded my cerebral system, essentially overstimulating my brain’s processing ability, knocking me into a coma for a month.
        What I didn’t know at the time was that the same ability enhanced my own biology, both bio-mechanically and neurologically, to heal myself. I would have remained in the coma if not for the powers I gained.
        The couple on the carriage turned to one another and shared a kiss. A smile crept onto my face, imagining Dena and I together in the future, hopefully as happy as they appeared to be. I wished my parents had more time together like that. They had so little time together.
        I know you would both love her, Mom and Dad. I wish she had the chance to know both of you.
        They say your life flashes before your eyes as you are about to die. I stopped and took a deep breath of the cool, night air, contemplating that it wasn’t only when you are about to die, but when your life is about to drastically change. It was the only thing that made sense when I considered my many recollections as I moved ever closer to meeting up with Dena.
        Ahead, at the edge of the park, I noticed a gathering group of people. Blue, red, and white lights flickered at the scene still a few hundred of yards before me. I wonder what’s going on.
        I enhanced the gain on my implant, boosting the gain on its sensors so I could hear what was happening. Gasps of horror and shock greeted me as events unfolded. I heard a police officer speak.
        “We’ve got to keep this crowd back. The gunman’s inside the restaurant with a hostage. We have additional units coming in to assist.”
        My heart stopped dead in my chest. I pulled my phone out of my pocket as I maximized the sensory input to my implant further. I needed to know everything that was happening there. My pace increased as I pressed the screen to dial Dena’s number. Despite the growing buzzing in my head, I strained to siphon away any bit of information I could.
“Hello, Alan,” Dena said as her voice came over the phone and into my auditory processer. I don’t remember ever being so happy or relieved at the same time. “Something’s happening up the street. Be careful.”
A screech brought me to my knees, worse than any noise I had ever encountered. It whirled and wheezed, but behind it, I could hear something else.
“Alan, honey. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you can. I’m alright. We’re all alright. We’ve tried to make contact with everyone back home, but something must be blocking our signals. They came and—”
“Mom?” I’d heard her voice enough from recordings from her presentations and classroom instructions to recognize it even after so long, but how could it be her?
“Alan, if you can somehow hear this, we need help. There isn’t much time before—”
I fought to hear what she said, but the squeals and screeches took over and I couldn’t hear her voice any further.
“Alan, what’s going on? Who are you talking to?” Dana asked over the phone.
I stood there, stunned, and lifted my head up to the great, wide sky. She’s still out there, and she’s ALIVE.
*****
I knocked at the door of an office deep within BADGE HQ.
“Come in.”
I brushed a sprig of lint from my suit before I opened the door. “Hello, Mrs. Fae. I’m here about the position as Science Officer on your new ship.”