Coulson Squared

Not Everyone's a Battlefield

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"Gravitonium," Fitz stated. "It's an extremely rare high-atomic numbered element. That powers the device. It's so extremely rare that most people didn't believe it existed, much less the theory that an isolated positive charge—"

"—would turn the flow from isotropic—" Simmons continued.

"Guys, high-school dropout here," Skye reminded them.

"And someone with zero Ph.D.'s or any college experience, for that matter," you added.

"How does the device work again?" Skye asked.

"Well, Gravitonium distorts gravity fields within itself, causing an undulating, amorphous shape," Jemma explained, using slightly more understandable words.

"Which causes these, um wiggly bits here," Fitz continued, clearly struggling to use everyday language. To make up, he began demonstrating what he meant with his hands. "But when an electric current is applied, the Gravitonium solidifies. And those gravity fields erupt, randomly changing the rules of gravity around it. Well, so, now you can imagine what would happen to a big rig at 100 kilometers per hour. Or, uh, well, you could just remember, 'cause we saw it already, didn't we?"

"Yeah, and guess which genius published every theory about Gravitonium and possible applications years ago?" Simmons asked, much like a teacher.

"Dr. Franklin Hall," Skye answered.

"Correct," Fitz affirmed. "And Dr. Hall attended the University of Cambridge at the same time as Ian Quinn."

"Have you two ever considered teaching together?" you questioned, half serious. "You'd be good at it."

"Um, thank you, but we haven't, no," Simmons said.

"Okay, this all lines up, but I think Coulson may be off on this," Skye expressed. "Quinn is a notoriously good guy. His charity endowment's something like eight billion dollars."

"Yes, with money made from leeching the earth of its resources," Simmons pointed out. "Looks like he's dug up another."

--

"The man's a prisoner, and it's up to us to get him out," your father stated.

Everyone was wandering around the living space of the Bus, pondering the best way to go about this. You sat in a chair, your chin resting in your hand, watching Skye as she leaned up against a wall.

"We've checked the specs. There's no way into Quinn's compound without a large SHIELD strike force or a man inside," Ward argued. "He's got neodymium laser fencing surrounding the property."

"They'll never allow a strike force into Malta," Phil pointed out. "Plus, this weekend, Quinn worldwide's got its annual shareholders gathering. We'd risk global outrage, but--"

"If we go in alone--" May began.

"SHIELD can disavow us, claim ignorance," he concluded.

"Without a man inside, it's impossible, unless you're immune to pulse laser emissions," May said.

"I feel like we should already have some tech for that, but I searched it and came up with nothing," you added.

"If we had a monkey, we could get in," Fitz interjected seriously.

"Ugh, Fitz!" Simmons groaned, throwing her hand into the air.

"If we had a small monkey, he could slip through the sensors and disable the fence's power source with his adorable little hands," he continued nonetheless.