Super Genetics

Terry very purposefully looked around the poorly-lit alley, noting the distinct lack of potential customers. He arched a brow at Terraform in question.

“Marlon’s a bit eccentric.” Terraform shrugged with a wry smile. “But he’s trustworthy—”

Stomping feet sounded from inside the shop, followed by an animal growl.

“I told you to—” The large figure stopped at the doorway, his furious expression melting away as he noted Terraform. “Oh, it’s you. Hurry up then, get inside.”

Marlon was a big man, round and disheveled. His hair dipped back from his forehead, creating a large bald spot on the top, while the sides were long and mangy. A grizzled beard coated his cheeks and neck unevenly, doing nothing to hide his quivering jowls. Wrapped around his large belly was a besmirched apron, slathered in a brown substance that Terry couldn’t recognize.

The Traveler pivoted around with a huff, his pants fighting for dear life to provide the proper cover for his plumber’s crack—and failing spectacularly.

Silver and Terry exchanged a look filled with doubt, before his grandfather turned to Terraform.

“Him? Really?”

Marlon’s voice barked out, cutting across any reply. “Get in or piss off!”

Terraform cast them both an apologetic smile, then indicated for them to go first.

Silver hesitated, clearly annoyed at the Traveler’s gruff demeanor. But Terry appreciated that someone so clearly eccentric might also be someone less than interested in revealing a certain F-ranker’s unusual powerset. So he passed through the threshold and into the most bizarre shop he’d ever seen.

Shelves lined the store, positioned haphazardly, crisscrossing back and forth rather than in straight lines, creating a sort of maze that obscured the rest of the space. He didn’t know what kind of goods a Traveler could sell, but whatever that was, it wasn’t this.

Each shelf was stuffed edge-to-edge with a dizzying array of pottery in some form or other. Half-finished vases, broken bowls, rainbow-colored plates and dozens of other pieces telling a story of an amateur just learning a craft—and making very poor progress.

His grandfather followed behind, stopping at his side as they both took in the frankly unsettling sight before them.

“Who is this loon?” he asked Terraform. “There’s gotta be someone…else.”

Before Terraform could reply, a small shape leaped down from the rafters above, landing among the top row of a nearby shelf. Terry jumped in surprise, then relaxed as he recognized the shape as a cat. His eyes tracked above and widened as he spotted half a dozen more of the felines lounging among little cat-sized hammocks or prowling the rafters.

Silver also noted the cats and did an about-face, heading for the door.

“Nope. Nuh-uh. Not doing this with a blustering cat-boy who couldn’t work a potter’s wheel if his life depended on—”

He cut off as the cat prowling the top shelf leaped back up to the rafters, sending a half-dozen pieces of pottery tipping to the floor below.

Or, they should have tipped to the floor below.

In a flash, six small portals split across the air, catching each falling piece before they shattered against the floor. A blink later, six more portals materialized at different points on the shelf, right where each piece had been resting before the cat’s sudden leap.

Six pieces of pottery eased out of their respective portals, settling delicately back into their spots. But the shelf was still rocking from the cat’s departure, and one of the more misshapen vases teetered as the portal deposited it, rocking off the edge of the shelf for another trip to the floor.

Terry watched with bated breath as the vase fell, cringing as he waited for it to shatter below.

To his surprise, another identical portal flashed into existence, catching the vase once more. But this time, the depositing portal didn’t open on the shelf, but over thin air. It slid out of the portal slowly, then continued its fall back to the floor. Another portal opened at the last moment and caught it, where it was promptly deposited back into the air once more.

As it made its third fall toward the floor, a much larger portal opened beneath it, and a meaty hand reached out as if it were extending from the ground. It caught the vase, then pulled it back through as the larger portal shut with a snapping sound. Marlon came around the set of disorderly shelves, his hand clutching the vase in question. He delicately set it back on the shelf in its former position, his lips pursed in annoyance.

Terry’s eyes were wide, not quite understanding what he had just seen. At his side, Silver’s frosty demeanor had melted and he nodded appreciatively.

“Not bad. I see the portal anchor, but is that a temporal component, too?” he asked.

Marlon’s head shot up in surprise. “A fellow enthusiast?” Silver nodded and the man’s eyes lit up, his voice becoming animated as he spoke. “It’s an anti-fall enchantment. Or, rather, it’s the first step towards an anti-collision enchantment. Still working out the kinks. Gravity is a persistent bitch—sticks around like syphilis—”

“Thank you, Marlon.” Terraform stepped forward, cutting off what appeared to be a burgeoning tirade. “This is Silver and his ward. The young man can replicate powers and he’s interested in your F-grade teleport.”

Marlon cast a dismissive glance toward Terry before turning back to Terraform. “Imitation is the basest form of art. How could you ever innovate if all you’re doing is replicating, hm?” He pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Though, I wouldn’t mind having a copy monkey to take over some of my responsibilities so I can focus more on experimentation.”

“Just your F-grade teleport, thank you, Marlon.” Terraform’s tone was stern, like a parent scolding a child into cleaning their room.

Marlon waved a dismissive hand. “Bah, I’m far too busy. How long would this copying take, hm?”

Terraform turned to Terry in question.

“Umm, hour and a half? Maybe two?” Copying his father’s body tempering had taken three hours, but his Presence Attributes had improved since then. Plus, he felt like he was starting to get a handle on the Skill after his long session with Silver. Though, he was still mentally exhausted from not only the session, but the run in with the Hypnotist. “It could be longer,” he amended. “I’m not sure.”

“Out of the question,” Marlon huffed, turning his back. “I’ll give you thirty minutes.”

He started threading his large bulk through the tightly-packed shelves and Terry looked toward Silver and Terraform indecisively.

The Elementalist shrugged, shaking his head. “His sense of time is nebulous. Once you get started, I doubt he’ll have any concept of how much time has passed.” He put a steadying hand on Terry’s shoulder. “Don’t let his crass demeanor frighten you. He’s more harmless than his kittens.”

Silver frowned. “Are you sure we can trust this guy? Doesn’t exactly seem…all there.”

Terraform nodded confidently. “Wouldn’t even cross Marlon’s mind to sell you out. If it’s not portal related, he doesn’t care. Plus, he never leaves the Market, so I’d know if he tried anything. Never leaves his shop, actually. He’s agoraphobic.”

“An agoraphobic Traveler?” Silver asked skeptically.

Terraform smiled sadly. “There was an incident—”

“What are you still doing back there!” Marlon shouted. “Get over here, boy. You’ve got twenty-eight minutes!”

Terry cast a harried look at Silver, who just shrugged. Terraform gave him a reassuring smile and nodded in the direction Marlon had disappeared to.

With a bit of reluctance, he started off through the pottery shelf maze, reaching more than one dead end barricaded by broken bits of pottery and other debris before he finally broke free from the ceramic graveyard.

The backside of Marlon’s shop smelled of cat and clay—a potent mix that had Terry wrinkling his nose. It wasn’t an overly large space, most of the shop dedicated to the pottery shelves. But there was a small area cleared enough for the shopkeeper to sit and work on his pottery wheel. A small wicker chair groaned under Marlon’s bulk as he started up the wheel with flicks of his foot.

“Take a seat, copycat.” The man’s eyes never left the clay as his hands began to work it into shape.

Terry looked around, wondering if he was supposed to sit on the floor. Broken pieces of ceramic and splatters of clay were layered around the wheel, and he hesitated uncertainly. But a moment later, Marlon flicked a hand—and a glob of clay—in Terry’s direction. A portal split open at waist height and a matching wicker chair popped through.

His analysis Skill itched as the portal sprung into existence, then dimmed as it slammed shut.

“Twenty-seven minutes,” Marlon grunted.

Terry plopped down in a rush, his eyes wide. “I need you to hold the Skill active.” Marlon’s eyes flicked up through thick eyebrows and Terry gulped. “Please, I mean.”

The man grumbled, flicking another piece of clay as his aura shifted. A fist-sized portal slashed across the air horizontally. An identical one appeared right below it so that they were facing each other. He couldn’t tell how he knew, but it was clear that only one side of each portal could be entered; the back sides faced the floor and the ceiling, respectively.

“Twenty-six minutes.”

Terry felt an indignant flash rise up—there was no way a full minute had passed—but he quickly shoved it down, slipping into that familiar state of focus he had been cultivating during his analysis sessions.

He let the Skill activate, extending his mind and aura forward. As he wrapped around the two portals, he was astounded to feel just how different this Skill was from Body Tempering or Silver’s Metal Telekinesis.

Marlon’s aura seemed to be prying space apart where the portals stretched, holding it open to create a gap to somewhere. A tendril of aura branched off from the initial portal, extending through space to form a connection with its sister portal. Terry could feel inherently that there was a danger to a lone portal, that entering an unconnected split in space would lead to nothing—death, or perhaps some indescribable limbo.

He pushed away those thoughts, diving into the process, beginning his mold. Despite the seeming complexity of the dual portals and the tendril of power connecting them, it was a blessed relief to analyze an F-grade Skill after his session with Silver. His mind felt along the first portal’s aura, memorizing the crevices and shapes easily in comparison.

It was only when he had finished cataloging the first portal, did he run into a snag.

His aura ranged along the connecting tendril, but found no shape to catalog. It felt as simple as a piece of thread linking together the two portals and he felt immediately that it wasn’t triggering his Skill like it should have.

Rather than get frustrated, he moved on, swapping to the second portal. He found it simple enough, the mold merely inverted to create an exit rather than an entrance. Which was interesting, because that meant these portals were one way. There was that same issue of being stuck in limbo should something accidentally enter through the incorrect portal.

He shelved that question for later, focusing on carefully verifying the mold of the second portal to ensure there weren’t any deviations he might have missed. When he was done, he let the Skill go and sat back. It was impossible to tell how much time had passed—the piece of misshapen clay on the pottery wheel showed no evidence of having been molded into anything of value and there was no sunlight in the Market to mark time. But when he looked up, Silver was standing there, watching him expectantly.

He raised his eyebrows in question, but Terry just shook his head subtly; there had been no notification that he’d cataloged the Metaphysical Component.

Something was missing.

“Uh, Marlon, sir?” Terry ventured. “I think I’m missing something.”

The man grunted, not bothering to look up. “Course you are. A copycat’ll only understand the surface level. And Traveling can’t be done with just a surface-level understanding.”

“Will you teach me?” Terry asked.

“No,” the man replied simply. “Time was up ages ago. Only let you keep going cause I was in the groove with my vase.”

Terry glanced down at the blob of clay that lay limply on the wheel, then back toward Silver with a shrug.

His grandfather’s face was a cloud of anger and he stepped forward. “Listen, cat-boy. We ain’t leavin’ till he’s copied the Skill. Got it?”

Marlon finally looked up, a bored disinterest on his face. “Oh, yes you are.”

Terry’s analysis Skill activated just as a silver-blue portal began ripping open beneath his chair. Before it fully formed, a flash of aura unlike anything Terry had ever felt before cut across the portal, slamming it shut with violent energy.

Silver grabbed Marlon by his shirt with a growl, hauling his large bulk to his feet effortlessly.

“No. We’re not.”

Marlon’s eyes were wide—the first expression Terry had seen on the man’s face that wasn’t bored disinterest. He glanced back to where his portal had been forcibly slammed shut, then whipped his eyes back to Silver.

“You’re the Prime!” His tone was practically idolizing. “Why didn’t you say anything! The things I could do with your energy! It could advance my research decades—”

Silver rattled the man—gently, but just enough to shut him up. “I’m not here to be your lab assistant. Teach the boy what you know and maybe—maybe—I’ll see what I can do.” He leaned in, his eyes opaque with silver magic. “Got it?”

Marlon seemed completely unintimidated. In fact, he seemed more excited than anything.

“Yes, yes! Whatever you need!”

Silver’s eyes bored into the man for a beat longer, than he sat him back into his wicker chair. Marlon turned toward Terry, his enthusiasm a stark contrast to his earlier demeanor.

“Your juvenile attempts at fumbling around my aura notwithstanding, you missed nearly half the Skill.” Terry ignored the subtle jab, excited to finally get the Skill cataloged. “When I activate the portal, send your aura through the entrance. Tell me what you feel.”

He nodded agreement, both excited and a bit worried. The portals had felt like hungry maws, black holes where space didn’t exist. What if Marlon snapped it shut on his aura? Would he lose a part of himself? But he steeled his determination, ready to take the risk. If Marlon did miscalculate or cause an issue, Terry was certain Silver would be able to intervene…he hoped.

The two parallel portals sprang back into existence and this time, Marlon gave Terry guidance.

“Send aura through the entrance and tell me what you feel.”

He did as the Traveler said, reaching forward with his mind. His aura passed through with no resistance and he could feel the inside of that space like he’d stuck a hand into the portal. His aura pressed against the interior, finding that it triggered his Skill just like the portals had. He began running his aura across the surface of the tunnel, but was interrupted by Marlon’s voice.

“Well?” he barked. “What do you feel?”

Terry started, stammering for a moment before recovering. “Oh, uh, it feels just like the exterior of the portals. There’s folds and shapes that I have to memorize in order to cata…” He trailed off as Marlon shook his head.

“No, boy. What do you feel?”

Unsure what the man was driving at, he looked to his grandfather for support. But Silver simply nodded for him to continue, so he focused on the aura inside the portal, trying to put in to words the sensation.

“It feels like…space is…condensed, maybe?”

Marlon glowered, his frown thickening. “You asking me or telling me?”

A bit of frustration welled up. “I don’t know! Asking, I guess!”

“Not asking you to unlock the secrets of space-time, boy. Just tell me what you feel. What are your senses telling you?”

He wanted to fire back, tell the man off for being so cryptic. But instead, he forced in a deep breath and turned his attention back to his aura.

What am I feeling? he wondered.

His aura felt…smaller, compressed, like the inside of the portal was thinning it out. No, not thinning, but stretching. Like the space between the entry and the exit wasn’t a foot across, but infinitely smaller.

“I feel stretched,” he replied. “Like the aura is being pulled. But it doesn’t feel like the distances line up. Almost like space itself is being stretched, maybe?” He shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know. It’s hard to put into words.”

He looked over to see Marlon nodding frantically as if he’d just said the most profound thing he’d ever heard. “Excellent. Very good. You’re not a complete waste of time, then.”

Terry didn’t know whether that was a flush of pride coming to his cheeks or if he should be annoyed at the man’s previous assessment of him.

“Stick your hand in now and focus on the sensation on your flesh,” Marlon said casually.

Stick my…

He looked up to Silver in dawning horror.

“It’s fine,” his grandfather said easily. “He couldn’t shut it on you if he tried. Not with me here.”

Marlon grumbled under his breath at that, but otherwise didn’t protest.

Terry turned back to the portal entrance, images of his hand being sliced off at the wrist flashing in his mind.

“Okay…” he replied with a fair bit of hesitation. His hand stretched forward, his fingertips playing against the silver-blue surface. It felt cold to the touch and he lingered there for a moment before taking another deep breath and shoving it through.

His hand immediately popped out the far side of the exit portal, his fingers wiggling back at him, seemingly disconnected from his body at the wrist.

The sight was disorienting, but what really struck him was the feeling on his wrist. It felt pulled across the distance, like he was both occupying the space between and not. If he couldn’t see where his wrist entered and exited, he would have assumed nothing was in the space between them. But he could feel it—both with his mind and his body. A piece of him was still in there, distorted, but whole.

“You feel it, then?” Marlon asked.

Terry nodded, continuing to wiggle his fingers as if to verify he still had that control.

“Weight takes energy to move,” Marlon continued. “Moving a human-sized object across any length of space would take a colossal burst of energy—far more than you can provide at the F-rank. That’s why most F-rankers can’t teleport. The System doesn’t provide the guidance to condense the structures being passed. We Travelers either learn it on our own or need to build toward it as we rank up.” He blew a raspberry in clear derision. “Only idiots pick those Skills. Learning to condense the matter yourself is far superior.”

Terry’s eyes widened. “Condense the matter? You can do that?”

“Of course. Otherwise the drain of maintaining the muscles, tendons, bones, and vasculature of your forearm would drain me dry in moments.” He narrowed his eyes, seeming to study Terry for a moment, before flicking his eyes up toward Silver. “How about this? I’ll teach my proprietary method to you—it’s incorporated in my Skill, so you should be able to replicate it. And in exchange, I get thirty minutes of your time—” He said with a nod toward Silver. “—to examine the Physical Singularity.” He looked back to Terry, then seemed to realize something, flipping his eyes back to Silver. “It is digested, yes?”

Silver pursed his lips, but nodded.

Marlon’s face lit up and he clapped, startling Terry—and all of his cats, judging by the flurry of sudden activity above. A series of leaps onto shelves caused pottery to cascade into portals that caught their falls, but Marlon seemed not to even notice, even as some of the anti-fall portals lost the trajectory of their charges and pottery clattered to the ground.

“Then let’s begin. Here’s how you condense living matter…”