STK, whoever you are, you made me laugh. I like to think that somewhere in the multiverse, a Harry Potter is being strangled through the internet right now. :D
Earth
"Potter, right?"
Madeline Roux, dressed much more smartly than she had been in the park but still with her hair tipped pink, strode forward to shake his hand with the same bullish enthusiasm she had for Mike.
His bodyguard made a sound. Too quiet to be a cough, it nevertheless reminded the ex-army woman of his presence - and hyper-vigilance when it came to keeping his charge safe. There was no such thing as 'trusted' when it came to a bodyguard. The best assassin was one they didn't expect, so they were trained to assume everyone was - especially old friends or acquaintances. A rough-and-ready approach to him was one thing - to his principle? Not so much.
Recognising that, the woman slowed her approach at the last second and her handshake was downright civilised. There was an awkward second where she reached for his forearm and he her hand, but she adapted a second later.
"I wanted to thank you again for opening dialogue and coming along today." The woman carried on without a beat, utterly ignoring David (who'd insisted on coming along as Harry's legal representative). She was an odd blend of earnest and stiff, clearly ill-practiced at dealing with people in a more glossy 'professional' way. It made Harry like her just that little bit more and his smile reflected that.
"Thanks for taking me seriously." He returned. "I didn't particularly want to go to the RDA but I would have if I had to." He winced a little internally at saying that in front of David. He was too used to it being just him and Mike.
"Then we both win." Madeline nodded, at him then - vaguely smugly - at David. "I have to admit," she said, as she led the two deeper into the busy building "I was a little disbelieving at first. Thought maybe Mike had put you up to it just to get me to stop calling. But I figured - fuck, any communication was better than none. And now here you are. With samples. If they can do even a fraction of what you claim, the skinnies down in the labs are gonna stroke out."
Harry glanced behind him, at the 'potions' box being carried along behind him by a flat little robot on wheels. David had called for one the second they'd arrived and corralled a pair of security guards to lift the heavy box onto it. It was pretty cool. He'd been given a ring to wear whilst inside so the robot would know who to follow but it navigated the same way a human would - by looking around itself and plotting a path. It stopped when he did and would call for him if someone prevented it from following. It could also act as a guide by either verbally directing him or making little lights in his ring flash to show the way. He wasn't actually using that function, but it was still cool.
He'd brought the box despite his and Michael's misgivings because he couldn't remove anything from it without the plant immediately starting to degrade and he hadn't wanted to risk the journey over being enough to render them unusable. Sitting on top of the box was his breakfast bowl, now taped over. Inside it, hastily planted in some dirt taken from his office, a tiny Devil's Snare was working on some bloody strips of (very expensive) raw steak.
They took an elevator down. It was a long ride, aiming for 'SL25' and interrupted every so often by suited and labcoated men and women.
"So, what exactly do you do here?" Harry asked, after a lady who'd pulled out her eye to fiddle with the circuitry on the back had left. The lift slowed again, this time opening up onto their floor. Madeline led the way out as she answered.
"Officially, we're working on a lot of things. We have micro-groups all over the world focusing on raising awareness, of course, and helping people help themselves and their local areas - but this building is dedicated to the settlement theory."
"More like isolationist theory." An eavesdropping woman grumbled as she passed them in the corridor. Madeline flicked a rude two-fingered gesture at her without even looking.
"What's that?" Harry asked.
"Microclimates." Madeline answered cryptically, just as they entered a massive room broken up by plants and desks and semi-enclosed areas.
"It started as research into extra-terrestrial colonies - it was our R&D that produced most of the off-world colony tech, the RDA just license the patents - but these days we're looking at something a little closer to home. We want to create enclosures on the surface of the Earth that are not only self-sustaining but are large enough to have their own microclimates." As she spoke the led them in a winding path to where a holographic model took up several meters of floorspace. It was a vaguely rectangular, rounded, peaked shape built from just below the peak of a mountain, over the mountain and then down into a valley and even enclosing some beach and ocean space.
It was huge, and judging by ghost-like additions, was intended to be modular or maybe expanded later.
"Annoyingly, it's much harder (and more expensive) to build than an off-world colony. We have donations, drives, grants and income from commercial branches of the GLF but we're still falling short of funding even the critical core zone." She slid a look at Harry. "That's why I kept calling you. After I saw you on the TV - for the hair thing - I realised who you were. It might be short term, but you're famous right now. An endorsement from you would help us get closer to production."
Harry glanced away.
"Anyway," Madeline moved on. "With the rise in sea level we've got Mount Esther and Mount Whiteface in range of forest, farmland, lakes, springs and ocean. The land needs some serious repair in some areas but - it's doable. We've already bought up the area. The bulk of our cost now is the specialised roofing we'll need and the sheer mass of normal building materials. It needs to be a minimum of two miles high - three times the height of Austin's Bell Tower. Or, around seven times the height of the old Empire State Building, if you know it."
He'd heard of it.
"Well, it's high." She summed up dryly. "We have the technology to do it, but it's expensive. So are the materials, we're not just slapping some glass and steel together. But ideally, some day, it'll be a reborn Garden of Eden. Healthy, protected from the polluted world and a base from which to work on repairing the rest of the planet."
Harry stared at the holograph. It might not be glass, but an awful lot of it looked transparent. What it didn't look, was defensible. He hadn't been in the future very long but if the people here were anything like they were in his time, a paradise would come under fire from the greedy and the resentful almost immediately. Would it even work in the first place? Could the world's life energy be sectioned off so easily? Maybe it could, trapped in root and fish and tree - at least until they died.
…He really needed to dig up the study on how the world and his ability to interact with it actually worked.
"The other major problem is actually purifying the interior. Our goal is to be completely independent of machine support, even if we need to use air scrubbers for a few years first, but the soil is saturated with pollutants which will continually respirate into the air for decades, never mind the potential danger for crops and livestock. Ditto for all the waterways. We've invented machines, chemical processes, but…" She looked at him, hard and steady. "If they can be replaced by something natural, operating costs alone would drop. Your carbon-plant, if it operates anywhere close to what you claim, could be cultivated to start repairing the planet right now, with no need for a microclimate at all! That's completely beyond anything we'd been planning, been hoping." Madeline's eyes were bright, transforming her from ex-army powerhouse to idealistic young woman. It took decades off of her. Harry sensed more eyes watching them, busy people all sharing the same dream and all trying not to get their hopes up lest it crash back down again. Beside him, David was frowning at the holograph with surprisingly intense distaste.
"This has been tried before." He muttered. "It never works. What a waste of money."
"Previous attempts were nowhere near on this scale!" Madeline shot back, apparently possessed of ears like a fox. "The Enclosure will have room for nimbostrati - maybe even altostrati over the mountains. Natural cloud formation, in an area more than expansive enough for pressure cells to form. We're installing a cloud-seeding system in the roof just in case - to prompt rain - but it might not even be needed."
"'Might not', wow." David scoffed quietly. "That's some science."
"It uses materials we can harvest from within The Enclosure." The woman said coldly. "Non-toxic and the rain it produces? Also non-toxic. You won't get sick from it, won't get burned from it, won't have to cover up your bike or close your windows to prevent damage to your stuff. And," she added belatedly "it might not ever need to be used. It'll be the best money we ever waste."
The two glared at each other for a long moment. David looked more than ready to continue, at least until Harry shifted his weight and cleared his throat. A second later the man was looking away, face smoothing out until it was his usual amiably pleasant expression.
Harry turned to Madeline.
"I can grow one of the plants for you today." He changed the subject. "And I don't mind leaving samples of the others with you, if you can take care of them. I'm also wondering if, uh…"
"We'll do more with them than this?" She nodded at the holograph, then grinned. "Yeah, don't worry. We've prepared several proposals to use what you've shown us and I hope to convince you to allow us access to the rest of your plant database - even if something doesn't seem immediately useful to you (or us), there are often secondary or derived uses for natural things." She hesitated for a split second. "We're prepared to pay a license fee."
Harry shook his head hastily.
"It's alright," He assured. "I've already decided that select scientific institutes - trustworthy ones - will have free access to the written records."
"Conditional access." David interjected. "All participating institutions will be required to sign confidentiality agreements to protect Mr Potter's patent and property rights, as well as negotiated clauses covering ownership and liability for any and all products, services etc that may be developed as a result of that access."
Harry blinked. "Right. Yes." He agreed. "But, we both want this to work out, so I'm sure our negotiations will be friendly. Right?"
A wry twist to her lips suggested that Madeline didn't hold such faith, but the woman just nodded.
"Alright, this way: I think we'd like to see you and your stuff in action and then… we'll get down to business."
Earth
There'd been some short debate about which plant to 'bring to life' first. Air and water filters were top contenders but with speculation on the accuracy - and speed - of testing, eventually it was decided that the plant which stored carbon in pods - the Flamma Gout - would be best. A box of damp soil was provided in a sealed room and everyone - Harry, David, Michael, Madeline and three scientists - put on proper, windowed gas masks that covered their entire face and which sealed against outside air.
Michael and David both checked the seal on his, much to his annoyance.
Then the scientists did something that made the ceiling glow and radiate heat before pumping CO2 into the room, digital sensors recording and displaying its levels in multiple colour-coded holographs hanging in mid-air.
Harry turned to the potions box and removed the lid. A touch and a name had the desired plant box under his fingertips and a murmured password - he'd read the instructions this time around - allowed him to pull just one sample from the tiny box without destabilising it. He moved the sample to the box of soil, tucking it half in, then waited till the CO2 was as high as it could safely go.
Then he took a deep breath, gathered his personal energy and fed it into the plant.
It wriggled and writhed its way to life, shooting out roots and pumping up deep brown fronds that almost immediately bent under the weight of thick, porous purple leaves. The CO2 in the air was absolutely vital for this to succeed - even with magic - because, like trees, it was a major building component for the plant. As it grew, the holographic CO2 levels dropped and small nubs under the surface of the soil started to swell up enough to break through.
The world blurred and dimmed, his ears ringing like the time Aunt Petunia had walloped him one with the frying pan. He felt.. weak. What was he doing?
"Grab him!" Someone shouted, even as someone already was.
Michael. He recognised the strength in the arms that caught him around the waist and lowered him swiftly to the floor.
"Crank his O2 up!" A woman barked, and a hand bumped into his mask. He tried weakly to turn his face away, confused and drifting and wanting the weird constriction there to go away, but couldn't escape it. There was a series of tiny clicks and the mask began forcefully venting cool air onto his face.
As he breathed it in his mind and vision cleared. He still felt as weak as a wet noodle, but he was more aware of the world around him. Enough to try to force himself not redden in embarrassment. Was it too much to ask, really, for him to just stay upright when doing serious magic? Just once? He'd stuffed himself with breakfast before coming here, the plant had grown itself mostly through carbon taken from the air but still the pull on his magic had been savage. Judging by the vague tingling he felt in all of his limbs - and the snarling hunger in his gut - his preparation (and careful selection of plant to grow) hadn't been anywhere near enough.
He blinked hard and looked around, trying to test the strength in his limbs without being too obvious. Michael was crouched at his side, having been the one to crank his mask up, but he split his focus between Harry and the rest of the room. David was kneeling on the floor at Harry's feet, patting his ankle lightly and gaping over his shoulder at the massive plant now curled up under the ceiling.
Madeline was crouched on the opposite side of Michael, long rough fingers pressing against his throat as she watched her watch - counting his pulse, he realised.
"I'm ok." He croaked, coughing a little to clear his voice. He was starving and thirsty and trembling just a smidge, but he really was otherwise healthy.
"You dropped like a rock." Madeline shot back, all army. "Forgive me if I doubt your assessment."
Despite her genuine - if coarse - concern, she couldn't stop herself from sneaking looks at the towering plant. The three scientists weren't paying Harry the slightest attention. They were pouring over the plant - with its foot-long, wide purple leaves, concrete-rough roots and brilliantly orange flowerbuds.
"It just took a little out of me." Harry argued back, shoving his elbows underneath him to lever himself up. Michael shifted for a split second, like he was going to push him back down again, before resuming his standard behaviour of obeying whatever the hell Harry wanted to do and helped him up instead.
"A little food and rest and I'll be fine." Harry concluded on trembling knees, stifling a yawn. "The energy to grow it had to come from somewhere, is all."
Madeline went very, very still.
Harry, now eyeing the plant himself, didn't notice.
Earth
A hovering medic and hastily-provided spread of food later, Harry was doing his best to look like someone several years older and wiser. Madeline hadn't been exaggerating about the presentations the GLF had lined up for him. Apparently their researchers had competed for the chance to get ten minutes in with him to showcase their ideas (based on what little he'd shared with them already) and/or plead for more. It was simultaneously a heady and nerve-wracking experience. Detoxifying fungal growth for rooftops, water-purification or desalination plants where the biological replaced mechanical - and Harry actually knew a bit about that process as it was one of the things he'd looked up. Desalination by machinery was high in energy consumption and produced dense saline waste - which could wreck the local ecosystem if allowed out but was an expensive pain to store or offload in an already-ruined location. Replacing the machinery with the simple purification plant he had in his stores would be an ideal solution in multiple ways - not least of which was how the plant would grow and propagate, generating no waste whilst also allowing for multiple other desalination/purification plants to open for a pittance.
But.
None of the cases put before him took into account the magic requirement of the plants they wished to use. He himself had no idea how it worked on any kind of empirical scale. How much magic was required for a magical plant to merely exist? Even those which seemed to consume non-magical elements and therefore might be reasonably assumed to be un-magical, still were (as evidenced by their lack of current existence).
Because of this, he called for a time-out fairly early on. He had Madeline bring in the leaders of the research division and explained to them as best he could the invisible requirement that hung over and would likely prevent most everything they seemed to want to do. He'd come prepared and had (after an insistent David had everyone involved sign incredibly binding contracts) given the GLF leaders a digital copy of the reports Hermione and other Unspeakables had put together about what he was and how he - and thus the magic of the world - worked, along with all other texts which referenced it and his databases of plant and animal samples.
He brought out the Devil's Snare and demonstrated how the tiny tentacles - already as long as his middle finger and as thick as a worm - thrashed about despite no clear capability to do so, thus proving that magic (or something beyond the norm) was required. There was a gap in all their knowledge which needed to be resolved before any more plans were made. All of the people who'd thrown together presentations for him would need to revise them based on this new information.
Rather than be annoyed by wasted time, the scientists and researchers were ecstatic with the new information. They shot ideas back and forth between each other, arguing over the material which they seemed to absorb as fast as they could lay eyes on it. Rolling her eyes at them, Madeline turned to Harry directly.
"Is food the only form of energy you can convert?"
Harry blinked. One of the scientists broke away from his fellows and started paying close attention.
Convert? Well, yes, he supposed that was what he did. He'd known as much without really considering it in those terms, but…
"I don't know." He replied honestly. "I've never… there's never been cause to try anything else? I… what other kind of energy are you thinking?" He had a sudden image of himself wired into the electrical grid - and shuddered.
"Thermal, electrical, a range of radiation - or chemical, which you already seem to utilise in the form of food." The scientist chimed in, eyes gleaming with the new avenue of inquiry. "But food is massively inefficient - have you ever had a more concentrated nutritious substance? Is any particular type of intake - protein, carbohydrates, glucose - more effective than others?"
Harry could only shrug helplessly. Unperturbed, the scientist took up his glass pad and started entering notes, muttering to himself as he constructed what sure seemed like some sort of illegal human-testing procedure.
Harry turned to David, more than slightly alarmed. His semi-social-worker patted his shoulder and turned a stern look on the room - which went unnoticed. Harry rolled his eyes but let himself relax as he reminded himself that Michael - standing behind him - would take immediate action if he thought for even a second that someone was about to drag him off against his will.
"Would you object to some tests?" Madeline broke in, kicking the male scientist rather viciously under the table - judging by his sudden white face and bit lip. "We won't do anything without your full knowledge and express permission, of course, but for the most part it'd be pretty boring. Just monitoring your background energy levels - whatever we can pick up - then giving you, say, a warm blanket or compact/specialised nutrition source or minor electrical charge - barely even enough to stand your hair on end - and then just observe the difference in your levels. We'll also provide you with different materials to 'feed' with your energy, see if it can't be stored or contained. Even such minor tests can be extrapolated from to provide priceless data. And of course, you're more than welcome to bring whoever you need to feel comfortable."
Harry took a deep breath. This was what he'd wanted, right? To make a difference. To maybe fix the world.
"Alright." He agreed. "Let's do this."
Earth
"Bored yet?"
Harry didn't look up from where his head was buried in his folded arms, but he did groan - long and loudly - to answer. Madeline laughed, ruffling his hair roughly - an unwanted and unexpected touch that had him straightening up to pin her with a bleary glare.
Seven and a half hours. Seven and a half hours of tests, on top of the time he'd spent just getting here and getting the tour and hearing the pitches and growing the plant and eating lunch and GARH he wanted to go home.
"Hey, listen…" The woman pulled a chair closer and sat down, sending a wary look over to where David was arguing fiercely with the lead scientist and Michael was leaning against a wall. His bodyguard wasn't in earshot but his eyes narrowed on her like lasers. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice even further.
"Listen," She repeated. "Some of the results we're getting… they're incredible, but they've also opened up certain… possibilities. Do you, uh… do you remember the rat?"
He frowned sharply. Did he remember the feeling of it quivering beneath his hand, its warmth leeched away as its pitiful spark of living energy was stolen by him before he could stop it? Did he remember it dying? Yes. Yes he did, thanks.
"It wasn't your fault, it was ours." The woman said immediately, maybe catching some of his thoughts on his face - or just remembering how horrified he'd been, how nauseated to have taken a life… even that of a rat. That it had been accidental just made it worse.
"But look, we investigated it and… we think, if you hadn't stopped so quickly… you might have just broken down most of its body for energy too - and maybe got a lot more than you did."
He upgraded his frown to a scowl. Did she think that was something he wanted to hear?!
She shook her head sharply and ran both hands through her hair, growling at herself.
"I'm shit at this." She muttered. "Look, I'm just saying - of all the sources of energy we tried, that was - proportionally - the most effective. By a long shot. And there's this project we've been wanting to do, but… well it'd be helpful if we could test this a little further first, see if-"
"If killing larger animals results in more energy?" Harry interrupted coldly, now sitting razor-straight. "What next? People?"
Madeline didn't quite blank her expression fast enough. Harry gaped at her for two and a half heartbeats before standing.
"Harry!" The woman tried, standing with him.
"It's Mister Potter to you." Harry bit back frostily, turning away. Michael was already on his way over and David seemed to be winning whatever argument he was having, judging by all the sour looks directed at him.
"We're leaving now." Harry announced to the room, too angry to feel even the slightest bit self-conscious. He did make an effort to reign it in when speaking to the lead scientist however. What was his name? Carlsberg? Heineken? Guinness? Some sort of beer, anyway.
"You have my tag, if you have any further questions or proposals." He said firmly. "But I'm not interested in any more testing. I would appreciate being kept up to date on how any projects involving my samples are going, if only so I understand my own boundaries a little better." He glanced around the room, meeting everyone's eyes but his own people and Madeline's.
"Thank you, everyone. I'm grateful for your time and expertise - and patience. It was nice to meet you all."
He turned and left, Michael falling into step behind him with David rushing to follow a minute later. His legal representative slash social worker tried to pry the reason for his sudden temper out of him but Harry kept mute. The fewer people who knew about Madeline's - Ms Roux's - dangerous idea, the better.
If people thought the world could be saved through the death of strangers… he didn't even want to imagine what they'd do.
He didn't want to, but he could. All too easily.
Earth
The Sanctuary rejected all unnecessary forms of technology so by the time the news reached them - filtered in by some of the younger new recruits - it was fairly old.
Sister Ancilla watched the footage with wide eyes. A boy and a child, squatting together in a pitiable attempt at a garden deep within one of the planet's infection sites. The boy, reaching out, doing something that caused an indistinguishable blob to grow and change, into a recognisable plant. Another boy, kneeling, pulling the plant from the ground - the vandal! - to reveal its full and heavy roots.
Then the first boy, looking up and around, before:
A wave of growth, of life, rippling out from him in a perfect circle. Every living thing caught in his radiance surging joyously to fruitful life.
It was beautiful, a piece of paradise - of healing - in the centre of an open wound.
Then the boy collapsed, weakened by his generosity. The other boy and his friend just left him, wittering back and forth until a grown man appeared - her nails bit into her palm with alarm - but thankfully the man just moved the boy to the side and made him more comfortable. Well, as comfortable as one could be on cold stone flooring. A jacket under his head but nothing to cover him, and no more attention paid to the miracle worker as dozens of people began trickling in and touching what the boy had done, amazed and greedy.
She watched, displeasure growing as the boy was attended to only after he woke - attended to and asked for more! The boy was kind and generous and did not deny them more minor miracles, little workings of power that brought delight to all, before he was whisked away inside.
Brother Nitor, who'd brought it to her, offered her an old battered pad which contained other articles of news he'd been able to find. None of the order were particularly experienced or clever with the digital network of information, something she now regretted for the first time in her life, so he'd only managed to find what was most freely available on the net.
'King Arthur' , names himself Harry. Found sleeping beneath the sunken Stonehenge. In the legal custody of the RDA.
Her grip tightened on the screen, rainbow circles reflecting the furious pressure of her fingertips. "We have to rescue him!" She looked up at Brother Nitor. They'd known each other for years and she knew he wouldn't have brought this to her if she didn't feel exactly the same way. The RDA were pure evil, the old 'devil' in modern form. They raped the planet and gloried in it, revelled in a world that relied on them doing so, that thanked them for it with their wage-slave earnings. Not content with their consumption of the Earth, they'd moved onto the shining moon - and poisoned the skies with fallout. Unstoppable, they'd moved onto Mars and would have spread like locusts through every planet in their system if long-range range probes hadn't focused their eyes on a juicer prize. Not even the presence of life - both sentient and non - had been enough to stall them. They were unstoppable, pitiless, inhumane, greedy, evil! They would do to this boy what they did to everything else - take from him everything that was special and discard the dead or dying husk.
The Sons and Daughters of Gaia had fought them before, with knives and poison and even explosives and guns. They spread the word of the Great Mother of All and they tried to open hearts and minds, to rally people into becoming the planet's immune system against such evil, but far far too often, they failed.
This boy… this… this chosen child of Gaia… they could not fail him. Could not fail the Great Mother. She had sent them all a second, hundredth, final chance. She had sent them a Little Brother, one to be taken into the fold, nurtured and protected, until he could take his rightful place as Eldest Brother and - together with Eldest Sister - lead them in following Gaia's will. Lead her children that they might save her.
"I will bring this to the Elders." She assured her brother. "Go, and gather what we will need. We must be ready. We must save him!"
Brother Nitor met her eyes, nodded, and left at a run.
She breathed out,shakily, and crossed to the wall where she pulled a rope as hard as she could, over and over. The emergency assembly bell rang out, echoed soon after by other bells, each calling to more distant sections of The Sanctuary. That done, she turned to the chipped screen that was looping the footage. She watched again, with bated breath, as the boy brought life and strength to his Mother. She smoothed her hands - one still clutching the pad - down the side of her simple woollen shift. Her hair, cut short to aid in resisting vanity, tickled her skin with sweat. This was awe-inspiring and she was not immune. She bowed, as she would to a tree they needed to cut or an animal they needed to eat, except lower. Normally, no brother nor sister bowed to each other - not even to the Elders. It helped prevent arrogance and entitlement from taking root. But to this boy, this gift, this Earthchild, how could she not?
Then she left, hasty and - for the first time in decades - hopeful.
Earth
As you can probably tell, I'm making stuff up when it comes to the feasibility of The Enclosure. I did as much research as I could (check out the Biospere 2! It's fascinating despite being impossibly too small) on the maximum possible height of buildings and the requirements for micro-climates within an enclosed area along with some other stuff but I probably missed something important. If you see anything too obviously wrong, please do let me know.