The Mind
Matt shifted in his infirmary bed. He looked over at the tea on the table, just about finished steeping, gave the bag a quick up-and-down with his telekinesis, then levitated the cup over to his hand. He took a deep breath, and there was a stabbing pain in his left side. He twitched. A few drops of tea spilled on his gown. He thought of what Tess must be doing about now. Sitting at home, probably, wondering why he never came back. Maybe she figured he ran out of air over the South Pacific. He’d never specified he was back in the U.S. on his last call. Maybe she thought the police had him. Maybe she’d seen a broadcast from Stuttgart that had gotten a good look at him, and she knew he’d lied to her to go save the world or die trying. Without even saying goodbye, for that matter. His heart sank. What was he doing here?
The rotors droned on in the distance, roaring beyond the steel walls, going nowhere.
There were heavy footsteps in the hallway. The door opened. Matt instinctively tensed up as Thor entered the room. He looked around, head held high, and strode over to Matt’s bed. “Matt Garrety, child of Midgard,” he said, approaching and pulling up a chair, “We ought to speak.”
He sat down and put down Mjolnir. The hammer struck the floor with a clang. Matt winced. Thor clasped his hands and leaned forward. “It was not my intention,” he said, “to do you such grievous harm. I am sure you’ve been told, but we are comrades in arms now. Loki’s schemes threaten the planet I love; your planet. There ought to be no petty squabbles between allies.”
Matt wasn’t sure how to respond. “Look, I’m sure you were worried about my powers. I mean, I probably would have done the same thing. I mean, I did, with Loki, he was aiming the scepter at me, so I froze him.” He shifted a little. “I’m still new at this, and I think if I’d used that much force on a human…”
Thor sighed. “Rationalizing our failures is the easy way out. Learning from them is far better. I’ve come to apologize. I lost my temper. I promise, it will not happen again. Will you forgive me?” Thor said, making eye contact.
Matt nodded. Thor seemed to relax immediately. There was silence for a moment, then Thor spoke again.
“You were brave, to face a warrior from another world. I’ve been told you knew of my powers before you confronted me.” he said. “I’ve also been told you... lost a friend to lightning.” he said more quietly.
“Hey, you didn’t have anything to do with Steve, what does that have to do with anything?” Matt said, his demeanour becoming more guarded.
“You knew your powers could not stop the thunder. You came anyway, to finish your mission, to protect your planet. That is courage. You may have been defeated, but victory does not a true warrior make.” Thor said.
Matt blushed slightly. “You don’t think you’re overdoing it a little?” he said, annoyed.
“I am… sorry if I offend.” Thor said, confusion on his face.
“It’s just, you know, you sound like… People don’t talk like that on Earth. Outside of movies, and things.” Matt said.
“I am not from Earth.” Thor said, furrowing his brow. “Why should I not speak as is my custom? Is it considered impolite?”
Mat chuckled a little, then grimaced and tensed up as pain shot through his side. Thor looked away.
“Maybe I should go.” he said after a pause. “When you are recovered, perhaps we may speak again. I would like to know whence your... telekinitis came, and how it was able to subdue my brother.”
“Wait,” Matt said. “The hammer. I pushed it with everything I had. Why didn’t it stop?”
“It depends.” Thor said. “Are your powers part of you?”
“I don’t know,” Matt said, “But my barrier can stop things with a lot more momentum than the hammer would have had. I mean, unless it’s made of like, something really dense.”
“No man can move Mjolnir, child of Midgard. Only those who are truly worthy can lift it or alter its course in flight.” Thor said.
“What makes somebody worthy?” Matt asked.
Thor opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked slightly confused. “I’m not sure. But I am worthy. And apparently, you are not.” he said.
“Good to know.” Matt said. He took a sip of his tea.
Thor began to stand up, then sat back down and turned to Matt. “I do not mean to imply you are unworthy, per se, but certainly, the hammer…” he trailed off and started again. “Worthiness isn’t everything. It does not reduce you as a person if…” he said, in a faintly conciliatory tone.
“It’s an undefined term. It doesn’t have any meaning without a set of criteria to define it.” Matt said.
“Maybe, when I do something I should have known better than to do, that is what makes me unworthy, and when I act as I should, then I am worthy?” Thor said, grasping his chin.
“It’s a catch-22. That would mean that you being Thor is what makes you worthy. Or, rather, the Platonic ideal of Thor.” Matt said.
“What is a catch-22? Is it some strange Earth animal?” Thor said.
“No, no, it’s from a book… it’s like, when you can only do something by doing another thing, but you can’t do the second thing without doing the first thing first.” Matt said, gesturing vaguely.
“But that’s impossible.” said Thor.
“Yeah, exactly.” said Matt.
“But I can lift the hammer.” said Thor.
“But only because you’re you.” said Matt. “So everyone else who wants to lift the hammer is just, screwed then?”
“No, no, Odin said ‘whosoever wields this hammer, if he be worthy…’, so it can’t just be me.” Thor said.
“Wait, does that mean women can’t wield it?” Matt said. “That’s kind of sexist, don’t you think?”
Thor frowned. “Maybe there are no women who are worthy? Odin is all-seeing, after all.”
“Dude.” Matt said.
“What?” Thor said. “I mean, of course there could be women who are worthy.” He paused. “Obviously. Maybe there just weren’t any, at the time. Being worthy isn’t common, after all, otherwise anyone could just-”
Matt shook his head. “Why don’t we talk about this some other time? It’s making my head hurt.” he said.
“You think you suffer. I still know nothing of this Platonic you speak of.” Thor said, a serious look on his face.
Matt couldn’t help but smile.
Thor picked up the hammer and left, muttering to himself. Matt took another sip of his tea and put it down on the table. He exhaled and relaxed. It was hard to believe he’d ever been afraid of the thunder god, now. He wondered if Tess could wield Mjolnir.
Probably.
Around the same time, in the armoury…
“No- no. I said, “explosive munitions”.” Wick repeated, speaking slowly.
“Query not recognized.” the console’s computerized voice said.
Wick stared down at the blinking lights and fields of blue on its face. He shook his head slightly and opened his mouth to speak again, but the door opened behind him. He turned immediately. It was Tony, who sauntered into the room like he owned it and said “Minerva, open all lockers, code Gadsden-1.”
There was a sound of rushing air and sliding hydraulics as every door in the armoury simultaneously opened, revealing a massive smorgasbord of armaments and technology beyond the fevered dreams of the most dangerous mobsters on the planet. Wick looked right, then left, and nodded once.
“Didn’t pin you as the type for government work.” Wick said.
“I’m not. Turns out, just in case the carrier gets attacked, anyone on the crew can open all these lockers, and the crew register,” he turned to Wick, “including voice matching for each individual crewman,” he turned back to the array of weapons before him, “is controlled by the quartermaster, and the quartermaster’s password is stored locally, and they’re using encryption software that I’ve already cracked, because…” Tony walked down the stairs to stand among the open lockers, “they’re bad judges of character, and they left me alone on the bridge for ten seconds. Hey, do you want to bet how many guns Romanoff has in her locker for everyday use? I’m gonna go with five.”
He looked at Wick. Wick stared back, realized he was waiting for a response, and shook his head.
“Not a gambling man, then?” Tony said, taking a quick look at Romanoff’s locker. “Good on you, cause I was right. Who needs that many weapons?” He put on an exaggerated expression of confusion.
“You’d be surprised how fast you go through handguns sometimes.” Wick said.
“You know, I still don’t know what you do here.” Tony said. “Just shooting things all the time sounds like kind of a boring job.”
“Pays the bills.” Wick said.
“What bills? Don’t you work for SHIELD? D.O.D. work is pretty cushy, just ask Rhodes when we get him back. Good job on not getting killed by him, by the way. Would have been a huge PR issue.” Tony said.
“Is everything a joke to you?” said Wick.
“Do I call you John, or Wick? Actually, I think I’ll just call you Point Break.” Tony said, taking out a bag of blueberries.
Wick descended the stairs and started checking the lockers. He passed by a thick, heavy rifle with a segmented barrel and stopped to look at it.
The armoury door opened again. Both men turned to look. Steve entered, looking unimpressed.
“You know, SHIELD armouries are supposed to be secured except in emergencies.” he said.
“I know. Shameful, really.” Tony said, shoving a handful of blueberries into his mouth.
“Is everything a joke to you?” Steve said.
Tony shrugged. “Funny things are.” he said.
“Making Central think the ship’s under attack isn’t funny.” Steve said. “Why are you even in here? All your gear is on that armour of yours.”
“Figured I’d see what kind of equipment they had. I mean look at this, this guy’s got a… longbow.” He gestured to the locker he was passing by. “That guy over there, now, he’s compensating for something.” He pointed at the cannon with the segmented barrel Wick had passed by.
“You need to focus on the problem. Don’t you have training to do? We’ve got to be able to work together.” Steve said.
Tony didn’t seem to be listening.
“Grenade launcher.” Wick said. “Although that gun’s primary barrel has been removed, which is definitely not S.O.P.”
“That’s not what that is.” said Tony. “That’s alien tech.”
“How is that possible?” Steve said.
“You think these guys get all their weapons from me? We weren’t their plan A. We’re plan B. They’ve known aliens are coming here for two years. Why bring us in now?” Tony said.
Steve walked up to him. “Are you suggesting Central is hiding something?” he said.
“Yep.” Tony said. “Blueberry?” he said, offering one.
“What are you suggesting?” Steve said.
“Look. I’m kind of the only name in clean energy right now. I have more patents than Edison, and SHIELD is constantly bugging me about everything else I do. Why wasn’t I called to help them work on the Tesseract?” Tony said. “It doesn’t add up.”
“Vahlen seems like she has things under control.” Steve said.
“Vahlen-” Tony turned around and took a few steps. “Vahlen’s crazy, and even if she weren’t crazy she doesn’t exactly have the credentials you’re looking for in energy work. Look at her credentials, sure she can hold an intelligent conversation about quantum fusion matrices but think about it, what lies at the intersection of experimental particle physics, mechanical engineering, and materials science?”
Steve looked completely lost.
Wick stared at Tony for a moment and then said “A… laser gun?”
“Yeah, if you want to be a philistine about it, it’s probably a laser gun.” Tony said. “There’s another armoury on the ship. Why don’t you check it out?”
“Why don’t you do your job?” Steve said in retort.
“Apparently, I’m relegated to being the team comedian now, because there are no aliens to blow up, and Vahlen won’t let me into the lab, because she’s a certified, grade-A egomaniac.” Tony said. “So this kind of is my job.”
“Just don’t do this again.” Steve said.
“Password for getting into the armoury, by the way, is just to tell the ship “code Gadsden-1”. Not that you’ll ever use it, because then you’d be violating Scout’s Honour, but if you do, good hunting.” Tony said.
Steve shook his head and left the room. A tiny voice in the back of his head congratulated him for understanding that reference.
“Blueberry?” Tony said to Wick.
Wick walked over to the back of the room, took a few clips of explosive armour-piercing rounds, put them in his locker, and left.
Meanwhile, in the laboratory....
Vahlen loomed over the scepter, deep in thought. She stared at the glowing blue gem at its tip, as though if she kept her eyes fixed on it long enough it would come apart like a flower, reveal its contents. On the other side of the table, Banner ran it over for the fifth time with the scanner, picking up more readings. He glanced at her again. He’d been doing so, like clockwork, every time he returned. This time, he finally mustered up the courage to say something.
“Are you going to help me interpret the data? Or should I call Stark?”
Vahlen glared at him. “I hope that was a joke.” she said. What was that accent? Banner wondered.
“I’m just saying, I’m stuck. And I could appreciate some help making sense of these readings. They look like the ones from the Tesseract, same signature, but something’s different. That weapon isn’t powered by the cube like we thought.” Banner said.
“Of course it isn’t.” Vahlen said.
“What do you think it is?” Banner said.
“A work of art,” Vahlen said, “makes a crude bludgeon. Using it as a weapon is like… hammering nails with a calculator.”
“You know, I feel like that’s what I’m doing right now.” Banner said. “None of the equipment is giving me anything but the energy readings, and that’s telling me nothing.”
“Maybe it doesn’t want us to understand.” Vahlen said. “It controls minds effortlessly.”
“Are you suggesting it’s alive?” Banner said, taking a tiny step back.
“Yes. Remember my 2009 artificial intelligence paper?” Vahlen said.
“I remember. I usually don’t follow AI but when I heard you were working with Dr. Hofstadter I had to read it. The quantum computing results were especially-” Banner said.
“Exactly. We already know the energy matrix in the Tesseract is quantum-based. A highly advanced quantum computer, coupled to a miniaturized fusion matrix the same sort as the Tesseract.” Vahlen said, cutting him off.
“But that would mean this thing is even more advanced than the Tesseract itself. And why can it control human minds? What do these aliens know about us?” Banner said.
“Questions for another day. I think the salient point, Doctor, is that something is alive in there. This is a prisoner, not a tool. Loki seems desperate. Angry. Maybe someone is controlling him.” Vahlen said, no longer looking at Banner.
“Then we have to lock this thing in one of your chambers, or maybe have Shen build a cage for it. What if it’s influencing our minds? What then? You should have said something.” Banner began gesticulating and walked around the table, close to Vahlen.
“I’ve been listening to it. Why do you think the readings don’t make sense? It’s all coming together now, it’s talking to me.” There was awe in her voice.
“No, it’s not. And if it is, it’s an alien invader trying to get in your head. Look, Vahlen- I’m calling Central. He can decide what to do with it, okay?” he said. Banner looked around the room twice before he found the intercom. He picked it up and dialed the bridge. Vahlen said nothing. She mouthed a few words and reached for the scepter.
“Are you listening to me?” Banner said. He grasped her forearm.
Vahlen shook her head and took a deep breath. She looked at Banner and slowly withdrew her arm. “You’re right. I’m going to put it in the back in the secure locker. Tell Central what happened.”
Banner walked to the intercom. “Hey. Central, Hill, whoever picked up the phone over there, the scepter’s doing some creepy stuff, we need a security detail down here and we need to put it into storage right now.”
“Intercom doesn’t work.” Vahlen said, turning to Banner. He put up his hands in a gesture of confusion.
“I don’t like American spies watching me. Is that so hard to understand?” Vahlen said.
“We’re gonna have to talk about our work environment later, okay? This is all… very freaky.” Banner said.
He left the room, shaking his head, and began down the hallway. Vahlen closed the door. She turned, fixed her eyes on the scepter once more, then took a few tentative steps toward it. She reached out and touched it. The metal was warm and shivered like her own quaking flesh, anticipating her. There was a low and secretive sound coming from the gem. Its waking sounded like the buzzing of distant insects.
In a motion, she lifted it from the table and placed the tip to her head.
Space is cold and dark and its ways are long, lonely and treacherous. This Vahlen understood within seconds. She hurtled through the stark, unforgiving void for what felt like days. Sometimes space clung to her like a sea of honey. Sometimes it receded like the tide, leaving vastness behind it. Nothing had ever felt so empty. At the end of the journey, she collided with a wall of rock, and stood, bruised, pebbles floating through the void all around her, tossed up by the impact. Atop a short ridge on the asteroid, ahead of her, was a cowled, twelve-fingered, imposing figure. Were his teeth bleeding, or were his bones red? His eyes were veiled, and he wore armour and sacerdotal robes. A war priest? A theocrat?
“You are not Loki.” he said, descending the ridge. Vahlen scrambled back across the asteroid’s surface, cutting her hands on sharp bits of rock, then stood. She held the scepter out like a spear and clenched her teeth.
“Who are you? What is this place?” she said, more to herself than the creature. She didn’t even look at him, as though ignoring him would make him go away. Instead, her head turned wildly, observing only barren rock and cold, distant stars.
“An Earthling, wielding the master’s favour. Blasphemous child.” the Other said, approaching swiftly.
She pointed the scepter at him and stared at his veil. He continued his advance, but more slowly, and smiled wickedly. Red teeth, red bones. An alien. “Who do you think you are?” he said.
“I’m Moira Vahlen. Earth’s foremost scientist. How do you know I haven’t unlocked the secrets of your device?” she said, her voice wavering. Her knees weakened. One by one she recalled the symptoms of panic attacks and hypoxia, her mind racing, trying to figure out what was happening to her body.
The Other’s smile faltered. He stopped. “You can understand me.” he said. “No matter.” He reached for the scepter. Vahlen stepped back, tripped over a rock and collapsed against the ridge behind her. The alien advanced one more step, his bloody teeth glinting in the diamond-bright starlight, a night terror hewn from the outermost dark between those cold pinpricks of light above.
“Why did it bring me here!?” Vahlen shouted. She raised the scepter like a rifle, took aim at the Chitauri’s chest. “Give me answers, or I will destroy you!” Her lie was transparent. Every part of her mind abjured death, but expected it.
The Other stood there for a moment, grimacing, his face inscrutable beneath the veil over his eyes. Even in his grim silence, she could see his posture soften, his shoulders recede. He seemed to be in a negotiating mood. “I do not know.” he said. He paused contemplatively, then spoke again. “Has Loki failed? Have you defeated him?”
“Yes. He is our prisoner.” she said. There was another pause. The Other tapped his thumbs on the right hand together, thrice, rhythmically. Impatience. “What is your plan for Earth?” she said.
“We will conquer your armies in glorious battle. We will rule, and we will watch over your people. Our master is just, and fair. He will be even-handed even as he brings you low.” the Other said, menace in his tone, but surprisingly sincere in his sentiment. “What do you know of the Tesseract?” he asked after a brief pause.
“It is a quantum fusion matrix which concentrates, in a compact housing, the required energy and physical mechanisms to open a wormhole to another point in space. Our knowledge of the mechanisms is thus far limited.” Vahlen said, speaking quickly, hoping he would answer again, just one more question; “How do I return?”
“Why should I send you back?” the Other said. There was a long pause. The motes of light arrayed amidst the cloying dark were as eyes watching Vahlen, circling like vultures. She was certainly hallucinating. Or, perhaps, those stars were spacecraft. Hundreds of them. “Give me the Scepter.” he said.
Vahlen took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding. The air here was thin. Unconsciousness was perhaps only a minute away. “I won’t give it to you. And if you try to take it again… I’ll shatter the housing. Free the power source and the mind inside it.” She had no idea whether it was possible, but there was no other alternative. It had to be enough to make him back down.
The Chitauri stepped back. “You’ll die.” he said. “Beg, surrender, and live.” There was an adamant quality to his words, the fervent demand of one rarely defied.
“You don’t deserve this power.” she spat at him. “A conqueror. W-why conquer when you could save our world through technology? You’re no b-better than Earth’s warlords. I won’t bow!” Her voice still wavered, but her words rang out clearly.
The Other turned and walked back towards the ridge. He turned again to face her, standing to his full height, his chin upturned. He made a sign in the air; a six-pointed star.
“I’ll send you back, earthling. To harness the stone! Not blasphemy, but fate; the star-mind seeks the extension of your life. I will not defy a piece of God. And I will not slay an opponent who, alone, powerless, defies a superior foe. No, a death in the ignominious dark would be unbefitting. Go. Go, and warn your pitiful planet I am coming. It will not save you, Moira.”
The void collapsed upon her, like a dam had burst above her head, and a riptide swallowed her whole, sending her hurtling into the icy, pitch sea. This time, on the way back through the violent currents of space, she held the scepter close to her chest. The gem was warm and soft against her cheek, and it whispered in dulcet tones, reducing the vast uncaring darkness to the small, cozy corner where its voice could be heard. This time, she slept.
She awoke drenched in sweat, sitting against the counter opposite the scepter’s table. She breathed hard and fast, gasping for oxygen in the sterile, choking laboratory air. She threw the scepter away from her. It clattered along the ground and halted, inert and silent, a few feet away. She looked at her hands, which were uninjured. There was no physical evidence of her journey. Her eyes shot to the clock; only a minute had passed. Doubt and terror and savage implication assailed her. She took a deep breath, tried to calm herself, halt the shaking of her limbs. She failed.
Agent Coulson found her hiding in the storage locker, curled up in the corner, arms around her knees, staring ahead, totally still.
“Doctor?” he said, hesitantly reaching towards her.
She looked up at him. “Agent Coulson. I’ve made a discovery.” she said, even-toned. “I’ve uncovered some new intelligence on the enemy’s plans. Furthermore, I think I have a better understanding of the scepter.”
Coulson looked uncertain. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, concern in his voice. “I think maybe Dr. Banner should take over here, for the time being, don’t you? Why don’t you come with me, somewhere quiet, and we can talk about what happened with the scepter, alright? Alright?” He repeatedly extended his hand to her. She took it and he pulled her up.
“I’m perfectly alright. I’m just experiencing an advanced fear response. It’s past now, mostly. If you could just give me a little more time…” she said.
“Bradford says that’s a bad idea. We’re putting the Scepter in storage.” Coulson said quietly.
“No. Don’t. When I came into contact with it, it told me things. I think I might be able to use it to track down the Tesseract.” she said. “Dr. Banner’s spectrometer network cannot find the cube in time. We don’t have time. People are going to die, Agent Coulson! An alien fleet is coming. Thor was right. We have to stop them from coming to Earth!”
Coulson stopped for a moment at the exit to the storage room, still holding Vahlen’s arm. Banner and Agent Hill were standing by the lab door.
“What happened?” said Hill. Banner stood behind her, averting his eyes.
“I talked to the scepter.” said Vahlen. “It’s alive, there’s a consciousness there, and it has a mind of its own. I saw Loki’s ally. He called the stone in the scepter a… piece of God. Please. It has some significance to them, and it’s connected to the Tesseract, the housing emits the same radioactive signature. If you’ll just let me study it further-”
“Hey,” said Banner, weakly.
“Doctor, you’re not well. If it’s really alive, we have to lock it up like we locked up Loki. Bradford said to keep it contained by any means necessary.” Hill said.
“Hey,” said Banner, “what if we just-”
“I’m not insane!” Vahlen said loudly. “What if it’s our only chance to find the Tesseract?”
“Hey!” Banner said, raising his voice. Everyone fell silent. Hill backed up a few steps until she was behind him, then put a hand on her gun.
“Look. She’s right. She’s an idiot,” he paused, “but she’s right. It’s dangerous to mess with that scepter, I get it, but just, look… what if we studied it under her supervision? If she learned something about it, we might be able to use it to make a breakthrough on the cube. It’s that simple.”
“Bradford was very clear.” said Coulson calmly.
“Bradford’s being careful, that’s his job, it’s not ours. How about this, you guys go tell him we’re continuing work. Tell him what happened with Vahlen, and tell him we’re gonna keep a team here, they’re gonna be armed, we’ll have guys on call and Tony and I-”
Vahlen put a hand on her forehead and closed her eyes.
“Tony and I will study the Scepter under Vahlen’s supervision, with agents present at all times. If anything else happens, we lock it up no questions asked, but, look, Maria, this is the only lead we have.” he said, turning around to look at Agent Hill.
There was silence for a moment.
“I’ll talk to him.” Hill said. “Phil, you stay here.”
Coulson nodded. He walked over to the scepter and looked down at it, then backed away.
Vahlen looked at Banner. Their eyes met. There was concern and sympathy on his face. She crossed her arms. “I’m sorry.” she mouthed. He nodded.
From the floor, the stone called to her with subtle, radiant notes that shone like daylight. She steeled her mind against the yearning to touch it again. Reason, she chastised herself, will rule here. She raised her head, and returned to proper posture.