January 18th, 2011
"Medical Spray Trial #17 completed. Gideon, grab the laser and dispenser gun," I said, turning down the heat beneath the glass tube it rested on.
The liquid was a cloudy, light blue color, something that had taken me two weeks to perfect after discovering and building upon the recipe my father had created.
It was a surprise to learn that my father had been part of the medical research division on Viltrum.
Reading his notes over the past two weeks had shown just how advanced Viltrum was in the medical field.
Advanced prosthetics, similar to the one Conquest wore in the comics, and medicines capable of curing simple things such as the common cold were commonplace on the planet.
Not that Viltrumites ever got trivial things like a cold.
But it helped me understand their mission as a whole. Like Nolan explained in the first season, Viltrum would target a planet, demand its submission and absorption into the Empire, and in return they would uplift the worlds that joined them.
If they didn't act like conquering assholes who slaughtered civilizations on a whim, I'd actually agree with the mission.
Perhaps I could do the same with this planet, without the need to conquer them or slaughter them needlessly.
I am the last Viltrumite after all; who in the Empire is going to stop me?
The current concoction I was working on was one my father had developed a few years before his death and my subsequent flight from Centuri-Six.
It seemed my father had been working on a cure for the Scourge Virus for nearly fifty years, and while this particular formula had failed as a cure, it had led to a separate breakthrough.
He had managed to create a healing agent that, when applied, could accelerate the body's natural recovery far beyond normal limits.
In all honesty, it was extremely similar to Bacta from the Star Wars universe.
Which was insane to me, because Bacta was one of the most powerful healing agents in its galaxy, capable of restoring someone like Darth Vader from the catastrophic burns he suffered on Mustafar.
While the agent itself in its liquid form was formidable, it was my goal to convert it into a spray that could be applied directly to wounds for rapid treatment.
Once that worked, I would also create a patch that could be placed over injuries to achieve a similar effect.
This would be revolutionary in the field of medicine, both the patches and the spray could mean the difference between life and death in the field for first responders and military personnel.
"Here you are, Master Edward." Gideon said, placing the two items on the table.
Now let's see if this attempt will be a success.
The laser was the only thing I had found capable of piercing my skin while leaving a wound that wouldn't heal within the hour.
There were still many things in storage on the ship that I hadn't gone through yet. Currently, I had Gideon cataloging everything while I was at school.
I winced slightly as the red beam burned into my skin, opening a two-inch-wide gash.
Next, I loaded the cartridge of blue liquid into the gun, the glass tube locking into place as the nozzle extended at the tip.
"Medi-Spray Trial #17 commencing, Gideon." I nodded to him, and his amber eyes shifted to blue to signal he was recording.
The spray oozed from the nozzle, forming a fine blue mist in the air before settling over the wound. Upon contact, it turned clear, then began to foam.
That hadn't happened before, which was hopefully a good sign.
A few seconds later, I felt my skin begin to knit itself back together, cell by cell, until it stopped.
Grabbing a towel, I wiped away the foam to reveal unblemished skin, not even a scar left behind to show there had ever been a wound.
I waited another hour for any side effects and was relieved when nothing unusual occurred.
A bright smile spread across my face. "Medi-Spray Trial #17 concluded. Status: Success."
"Congratulations, Master Edward. Shall I begin the registration process for the patent?" Gideon asked, his eyes returning to their usual amber sheen.
"Please do, Gideon."
All I needed to do was patent it next, and the Medi-Spray would officially become my first invention.
Now came the hard part, figuring out how the hell I was going to sell this without any contacts.
I had two names in mind, especially since I had no desire to approach the government: Stark Industries and the Fantastic Four.
With the Fantastic Four, they had the contacts and credibility to get my product out on the market, along with the resources to mass-produce it.
It was the same with Stark Industries. With the current shift in direction their company was taking, my Medi-Spray would be the perfect product to help move them away from selling weapons to the military.
I had watched the interview Stark gave at the Senate a few months ago—which was even funnier knowing these were real people, by the way.
My product might actually help Stark Industries smooth over relations and get the U.S. government off Tony's back.
Though I could figure that out later.
Because right now, I had a physics project due tomorrow, it was currently 11:30 PM, and I hadn't done a single thing.
January 21st, 2011.
After registering the patent for Bacta Water, Bacta Spray, and the Bacta Patches, as I had renamed them, I made inquiries with the two companies I had planned to approach. Surprisingly, it was Stark Industries that responded first.
They set up a meeting in the recently completed Stark Tower, and while I hadn't expected to meet Tony Stark, seeing as he was likely busy rediscovering a new element in his garage, I was surprised when I learned the meeting would be with Pepper Potts herself.
Tucked safely inside a stainless-steel briefcase, lined with Viltrumite polymer on the interior, were three vials of Bacta Spray, along with a pouch containing two dozen Bacta Patches. With that in hand, I made my way toward Stark Tower.
I would have loved to fly, or even use superspeed, but I didn't want to risk damaging the product in any way.
So, after a long subway ride and a short ten-minute walk, I found myself staring up at the newly completed Stark Tower.
Judging by the several moving trucks stationed outside, hauling large crates to and fro, they were still in the process of moving in.
The glass front doors slid open to reveal a massive entry hall, high ceilings, giant monitors displaying Stark Industries products and locations, and a large circular reception desk outfitted with the latest Stark tech that likely hadn't even hit the market yet.
"Hi, I have a meeting with Ms. Potts at eleven," I said, approaching and greeting the nearest receptionist, who gave me a scrutinizing once-over.
I couldn't really blame her. I wasn't exactly dressed in anything fancy, and she was probably expecting someone much older—not a teenage boy barely brushing adulthood.
"Name?"
"Blackwood, Edward."
"Edward… Edward… hmm. All set, Mr. Blackwood. If you would take a seat nearby, I'll have an escort sent for you shortly."
I nodded, offering the woman a polite, charming smile before heading toward the sitting area.
A few minutes later, a guard arrived to escort me up to the conference room. On the seventieth floor.
Luckily, the elevator was fast.
I was led down a short hallway to a large glass conference room that already had several occupants, most of whom were dressed in lab coats.
It was the person seated at the head of the table who drew my attention, however, Gwyneth Paltrow in all her glory as Pepper Potts.
Standing a few paces behind her, looming over her shoulder, was none other than Jon Favreau himself, stern-faced and watchful.
"Ms. Potts, your eleven o'clock."
Pepper looked up and locked eyes with me. I gave her a warm smile before nodding to the rest of the room and taking my seat at the opposite end of the table.
"Mr. Blackwood, no offense, but when we spoke on the phone, I did not expect to be meeting a boy still in high school. May I ask your age?" Pepper began. I was glad to see she sounded more intrigued than dismissive.
I smirked. "Seventeen, Ms. Potts. And no offense taken, it's become a common theme for people to underestimate me because of my age."
Pepper chuckled before introducing the rest of her colleagues, all of whom were part of Stark Industries' various research divisions.
"Well, I have to say, the product you spoke of certainly piqued both the board's and Mr. Stark's personal interest. You may begin when you're ready." Pepper leaned back in her chair expectantly.
Placing the briefcase on the table, I opened it to reveal a sleek, organized interior. Three glass cartridges filled with blue liquid rested on one side alongside the spray gun, while several sealed packets of Bacta Patches and disinfectant wipes sat on the other.
At the center was a small metal cylinder—another invention of mine, one I was subtly hoping would draw even more interest.
"Now, I know you may be hesitant, but this works best with a live demonstration. Not to worry, I've personally tested the product on myself several times and can guarantee there are no side effects," I explained, hoping that wouldn't be a deal breaker.
Luckily, the people in the room seemed to recognize the potential of what I was offering. Several of them volunteered without hesitation.
Taking a scalpel, I sterilized the area before making a clean, two-inch-wide cut along the volunteer's arm.
This was where my second invention came into play. A small camera embedded in the briefcase emitted a soft blue wave of light, scanning the patient from head to toe.
The data was instantly routed to the cylinder at the center, which lit up and projected a three-dimensional hologram, an X-ray displaying vital signs and highlighting injuries in real time.
A red marker pulsed where the arm had been cut, accompanied by a small data readout detailing the injury.
I heard several sharp intakes of breath as the scientists began murmuring among themselves, their voices hushed but excited, as I continued the demonstration.
Grabbing one of the Bacta cartridges, I loaded it into the spray gun and adjusted the nozzle before releasing a fine mist onto the wound. The foaming process began almost immediately.
"Now, you may feel a slight sting, but that's simply the skin knitting itself back together," I reassured the volunteer. He winced faintly, but his expression quickly shifted to awe as the wound visibly closed on its own.
On the holographic display, the injury shifted from red to yellow, indicating minor trauma, then to green as it fully healed, before returning to the normal blue of the rest of the body.
"The Bacta Spray, as I've dubbed it"—I smiled as a few of the occupants chuckled at the name—"yes, it's inspired by Star Wars.
So far, I've only tested it on shallow wounds like the one you just saw, but I'm confident it will be a major boon for first responders and military personnel worldwide, preventing potentially fatal injuries from becoming exactly that."
We moved on to the Bacta Patch next, which was slightly harder to demonstrate, as it was intended for larger wounds that would heal over the course of several hours.
"Now, what you've seen here today are both the airborne and topical applications of my creation, Bacta."
The holo-projector displayed an image of the substance, which appeared slightly cloudier and lighter in color than its spray counterpart.
"My theory suggests that a patient submerged in Bacta for anywhere from a few hours to several days could heal from virtually any injury, restoring their body to peak condition.
Bacta is capable of regenerating damaged tissue, nerves, and muscle. For example, a patient could recover from a broken bone in a matter of days rather than spending months in a cast.
It's my hope that Bacta will revolutionize medicine and prevent injuries that would otherwise be fatal from ever claiming lives again." I finished, looking around the room expectantly.
As expected, the scientists and board members alike looked practically ravenous at the opportunity to both develop and market my product.
"Well, I think I can speak for everyone here when I say Stark Industries is very interested in the production and distribution of your product," Pepper said, the majority of the room nodding in agreement.
"Thank you, Ms. Potts. Shall we move on to discussing the details?" I asked, unable to completely hide my smile. She returned it as the scientists and researchers began filing out, leaving behind Pepper, several accountants, lawyers, and Happy to negotiate a deal.
In the end, we settled on a seventy-thirty split, thirty percent of the revenue paid out to me monthly, while Stark Industries retained seventy percent. I had pushed for more, but I understood the costs associated with manufacturing the product.
As for the holo-projector, I informed them it was still in the prototype phase and required further refinement before it could be mass-produced.
Now all I had to do was get a lawyer to review the contract, and I knew exactly the right one.