Interlude - The Old Man (1/2)

The old man was not a genius. He was intelligent. Bright. Gifted, even. But his discoveries were built on the shoulders of giants. He lacked that spark of true creation that a real genius held within him.

So he built himself a better brain. He shared it with his companions, with his country, with the world. By the time he understood the truth of what he had created, it was far too late.

Humans were not made to burn so bright. Their minds could not handle the strain. It took time; the buildup was slow but constant. Thoughts became rigid, inflexible, only able to focus on the very greatest of their ambitions. Nothing else was important. Nothing else could be important. It was a slow death, a creeping madness, a fundamental truth.

Genius needs direction.

Marcus Mercury pulled his eyes away from the faded old photograph clutched in his hands. He hated this part of the process; wallowing in the past was a bitter prospect for a man as old as he. There was nothing left there for him. Nothing but dead hopes and dead friends.

He had such purpose once, such drive. He needed that now, that single-minded focus. In the old days, the goal had been the advancement of humanity. To secure the future for all mankind. To eliminate strife, and bring the world into an age of enlightenment. It had been his guiding star. It kept him on the path of righteousness. It kept him sane when he dove into madness of his own design. He needed that now, that old fire. He needed a way to rekindle it.

But it had been so long.

So long out here in space, without care or thought or worry towards the future. So long without a purpose, living for the sake of living. No goals, no stakes, no hopes or dreams. And though he could still remember that young man filled with fire and determination, the truth was that the embers had long burnt out. Marcus would not find what he was looking for in his memories. Not anymore. Not after so long. There were no wounds left to reopen, to spill out blood and oil and reignite his sense of purpose.

Genius needs direction.

He was an old man; his scars had faded long ago. The methods of the past would no longer suffice. He needed a different tactic. Marcus placed the picture back in its frame, a small wooden thing, carved by unskilled hands. The frame went into a box, and the box went into a closet, and Marcus left the past where it belonged.

He found himself strolling through the long hallways of his space station, gazing out the window at the splendor of Neptune. Meditation was a necessary skill for someone in his position, and the planet was his favorite point of focus. He wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe because the sheer size and grandeur granted him a sense of perspective. Maybe because, regardless of his past failures, it was only through his hard work that this sight was even possible. Maybe because it reminded him that there was always more to see in this vast universe.

Or maybe because it was his favorite shade of blue.

Regardless, he walked and watched and pondered. His brow furrowed deeply as he considered a way to gain the control that he desired.

Genius needs direction.

Seconds passed, turning into hours, turning into a full day. Twenty four hours had passed since he'd kicked Dan off his station, when Marcus found his answer. It was so obvious that he couldn't help but snort. His shoulders shook, slowly at first. Then, again. Chuckles could be heard, evolving into cackles, into full blown guffaws. He leaned against the hardened glass window, almost collapsing with gut-wrenching laughter.

He wiped away a stray tear from his eye, muttering, ”Always forward. But of course.”

An old motto, one meant to inspire his students. At some point it had taken on a life of its own, becoming the central tenet by which he lived. He clung to it when he left for the extreme borders of accessible space, fleeing his problems and his past. He lived by it over the years, as he experimented without rhyme or reason, working to advance the cause of science for its own sake.

Trying to use his past as a focus? To use the memories of dead friends as a catalyst, after all these years of lonely exile? How absurd! It was amazing how habits can blind a man, even after all these years. Not the past, but the future. That was where his focus could be found.

Genius needs direction.

So Marcus considered the future.

Dan. Young and naive and hopeful, so determined to make a difference in the world yet so unprepared for the task. An unpolished stone, but there was potential there. Marcus enjoyed teaching, even now. Watching a student grow was the closest thing to fatherhood that he would ever experience. Unskilled, unlearned, unexceptional, Marcus could work with these things. The desire to improve oneself was all that was required.

He could admire that, that simple dream: To be better tomorrow than you are today.

Focus.

Marcus shook away his musing. Daniel was his student. He wanted to watch his student grow. In order to do that, he needed to teach him. Knowledge was easy, given time and effort, but it wasn't enough. Daniel's body held secrets that some would kill to learn. He needed to be able to protect himself.

Fortunately, the boy could teleport.

But there was potential there for something more, Marcus could feel it. Powers, those granted by chance rather than through upgrades, could grow through practice. Not just in skill but in scope. To keep Daniel safe, Marcus needed to help him grow his power. In order to grow the boy's power, Marcus needed to better understand how the fucking thing worked.

Daniel's power pulled him into the Gap Between Worlds. The not-space between reality whose existence was known to Marcus only through the nigh-incomprehensible babble of a juvenile sentient space ship named Spackle! And that... that thought burned at him. The lack of knowledge, of data, of the ability to even see his target, sent fury coiling through his gut. How could he study a thing that he could not interact with!?

He needed to see into the Gap.