Marcas Neodróin/Quanta

It was in the Galway county of Ireland that Marcas Neodróin had set up his laboratory six years ago. Obviously in that time it developed slightly, changing from a three acre site into one nearly three times that size. He was proud of this. He felt they were pushing the boundaries of energy research further than it could have been hoped.

Marcas was not alone in his creation though. One man, no matter what potential, will always need help. This help came in the form of Laura Clark, a bright young Irish scientist with her eyes set on improving. Victor Borkov, a Hungarian atomic physicist with a crude tongue and unique sense of humour. And finally there was Mary, the mother of the group. She was usually force feeding the trio when they inadvertently lose track of time in the laboratories carbon accelerator. He would forever be grateful that he knew these wonderful people.

However, one woman stood out in his mind greater then any other. Her name is Allyshia Healey, the social worker that rescued him from the clutches of human experimentation as a child. A picture of her was in his room. She would have been in her early fifties when the photo was taken and it epitomized the idea of a 'homely looking lady'. The picture wasn't the only tribute he paid to the woman, the institute was called the Healey Institute of Physics, or H.I.P.

The institute was no great secret, it was even funded by C.E.RN in Switzerland and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. After the very public court case for Marcas' release, it was near impossible to keep his power a secret from the World. But he uses that to his advantage now. Being able to manipulate energy is quite a useful feat for anyone in the energy business.

This did however come at some cost as some people would forever call him "an abomination" or, in some rarer cases, "the Anti -Christ". Every now and again a protest march would be lead to the lab. Who said saving the world makes you popular?

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It was Laura that woke Marcas on that hot July morning. It was a Saturday, so working was voluntary, but it usually took place anyway. "Marcas, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there are some rough looking guys at the gate." Marcas grudgingly arose from his single bed and slipped his feet into his pink slippers, before waving the dressing gown over his shoulder. Victor was standing in the doorway grinning. "Will you ever buy manly slippers Sir?" Marcas had often asked him to drop the 'Sir', but he never did. "Nothing wrong with a touch of colour". Marcas quipped.

He shuffled out of the cramped room and slid past the Hungarian. Leaving the two behind he continued on towards the kitchen. When he entered, Mary was already preparing his toast. "Morning Sunshine". Despite having twenty seven years to get adjusted to getting up early, he never quite did. She launched the toast at him and he gratefully murmured a "Thank you" as he walked toward the door.

When the door opened the laboratories AI spoke for the first time. "Careful now Sir, these ones brought sticks." The Irishman laughed at the sarcasm. 'Sticks' he thought, what a threat.

He strolled up the gravel path wearing his black pyjamas, black dressing gown and pink slippers whilst holding a half eaten piece of toast. His long black hair swayed in the wind as his shadow reflected his strong body.

The seven men at the gate began mumbling amongst themselves before one near the back shouted. "Nice slippers mate". Marcas continued, his steps unfaltering until they stopped at the large silver gate. One of them men ran a cricket bat against the bars, trying to intimidate the scientist. "Thank you, I bought them myself. Now leave. You interrupted my sleep." Early on a Saturday morning was not the best time to mess with Marcas.

He took another bite of his toast. "Or what? You'll go all sciency? Oh! So scared." Marcas chewed on his toast whilst he pondered a response. The men looked slightly baffled as the silence moved into an awkward silence.

"Fine" Marcas said. He dropped his toast and turned to walk back inside. "Oi! Where are you going". Marcas only had one thought in his mind. "Bed". "We aren't done with...." The Irishman sighed and cut off the stranger mid sentence. "I am done with you." With this all seven men were launched back into the air simultaneously and landed forty feet back, in the middle of a field of fresh cow manure.

Marcas could still hear the men producing profanities as the door of the lab sealed shut.

The End

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