Powers Contest Entry: Where Does He Get Those Wonderful Toys?

Contest Entry: ID 21306
Catalyst
Nth Dimensional Senses
Jet Flight
Shrink Ray
Where Does He Get Those Wonderful Toys?
        BADGE technicians studied the devices spread across the stainless-steel table before them as Director Nova waited for them to complete their analysis. “What exactly are these items supposed to do, Mr. Marcus?”
        A young man with sandy brown hair stepped up to the table. “Would you like demonstration?”
        Director Nova nodded. “Feel free. Knock my socks off.”
        Alan, or Catalyst, as he was called by most at BADGE, smiled and picked up a mask. Most everyone in the United States knew of Alan Marcus from his youth. The boy whose mother helped create the most sophisticated neural interface to date so he would be able to hear. The adolescent weeping at his father’s side when his mother was declared dead after she disappeared with the crew of an orbital space station. The college student who spent a month in a coma after an accident in a laboratory after Morphons triggered superpowers across the world. News sources reported as Alan’s father sat at his bedside the entire time, battling cancer as he waited for his son to wake up, losing his fight the hour before Alan regained consciousness.
        “This is the NDS, or Nth Dimensional Senses,” Alan said. He pulled out a small cord from the mask and plugged it into a data-pad. A computer screen on the laboratory wall sprang to life and projected an image from a camera withing the NDS. “When used, these would allow a BADGE agent to not only see perfectly in all conditions, but additional scanning layers available to track extremely slight thermal variations.”
        Alan pointed the mask at the ground where the technicians shuffled about. On the screen, the areas glowed where they had stepped in patches of bright yellows, oranges, and reds.
        “Useful,” Director Nova said.
        “Not done,” Alan said. “Four more senses to go. It can determine a chemical profile when within 20 feet of target.” He pointed the mask at one of the technicians. A steam of names of chemicals, followed by non-scientific nomenclature identifying the molecular formulas. “You ate a meal of garlic, chicken, pasta, and alfredo sauce recently and use Axe body spray.”
        “Don’t need a special mask to tell us that one,” a female technician said. The rest of the scientists chuckled in agreement as the target of the mask’s sensor turned bright red.
        Alan continued with his presentation, giving a brief apologetic smile to the embarrassed tech. “Audio tech can detect and identify sound within 100 yards. It can detect the human heartbeat at 30 feet, even behind up to 5 feet of dura-steel. It sends out high-frequency bursts, like a sonar scan, to create a three-dimensional representation of surroundings.” The image changed again as a light pulsed on the screen and a computer-generated representation of the room, people, and equipment within came into being, including several feet into the hallway outside the door. “The information gathered is fine enough to determine structure and most textures. Even finger-prints.”
        Holding his hand beneath the mask, the image changed to a very detailed, enhanced image of Alan’s hand and fingers, down to his fingerprints and pours.”
        “What else do you have for us?” Director Nova looked at some of the other items on the table.
        “What does that do?” He pointed at a harness that resembled a pair of suspenders.
        “A new device. During League War, I came back to BADGE headquarters and needed to go to New Orleans, but I do not have ability to fly like many others do.” Alan pulled the harness over his head and attached it to his chest. He flicked a switch on a small control panel now on his chest and he levitated into the air. “Now I can.”
        Director Nova walked around him, inspecting Alan as he floated halfway up into the room. “It’s quiet as a mouse. No noise or exhaust at all. How fast can you travel in it?”
        “Just like Jet Flight.” Alan landed. “But only that fast with right protective gear. Unprotected, 100 mph with ease.”
        “And you could share the plans and designs for these items with BADGE for use by our field agents. What about construction costs? Who can manufacture these?” The lead technician stepped forward with a copy of Alan’s information packet for his proposal.
        “We can get to that later,” Director Nova said. “These are all fascinating, but how about an example of something with a bit more teeth. Have you designed any weapons that would be useful to our agents?”
        Alan nodded and moved around the lead technician and back to the table.  He picked up an item that resembled an old fashioned, Flash Gordon style ray-gun. “I made this. Would you like to see what it can do? It is completely non-lethal but very effective.”
        “What is it?” Director Nova raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the device.
        “A molecular compressor.” Alan pointed it at Director Nova. “Some call it a Shrink Ray.”
        “NOPE!” Director Nova’s face paled and he held his hand up and stepped to one side, veering out of the line of the weapon’s firing arc. He violently shook his head from side to side, clearly troubled at the sight of the weapon. “I don’t need to see that one. No. No. No. Just put that one away. Not again.”