Dr. Froth (aka Ted Carbonet)

Theodore Carbonet was born 14 July 1986 in Eugene, OR into a family of proud Francophile Catholic intellectuals. Sandra Marquette and Julian Carbonet were both descendants of families whose ancestors had come to the Americas in the 17th Century – the Carbonets with Samuel de Champlain in 1604, and the Marquettes with Father Jaques Marquette in 1673 (the Jesuit priest’s nephew, Pierre, founded the American line). The similarities of their family histories and a shared love of genealogy drew the young Sandra and Julian together when they met as undergraduate students at Stanford in 1978, and they soon fell in love.

After completing their undergraduate degrees, Sandra in French Literature, Julian in Physics, the couple married in 1982, and after a brief honeymoon immediately began their graduate studies at University of Astoria in Oregon. In 1985 they both were offered teaching positions at the University of Oregon in their respective fields, and they relocated to Eugene. In 1986 their only child was born.

Growing up, young Theodore enjoyed hearing the tales of his French ancestors, and their prolific spread across the continent, from Maine and Quebec to Michigan to Oregon and California. He especially loved the the tales of the fur trappers and hunters, and of the French and Indian Wars. But despite the pleasure he took in his mother’s history and literature lessons, young Theodore’s heart most truly lay with his father’s hard sciences, particularly chemistry and engineering.

His parents sensed his intellectual capacity early, and enrolled him in O’Hara’s Catholic Elementary School, after a disappointing kindergarten year in public school. He seemed to thrive in the more regimented environment, and his parents decided to continue with what was working, sending him to Marist Catholic High School, an academically challenging college prep school considered one of the best in the Pacific Northwest. Ted graduated with top honors, half a year early.

Wishing to pursue studies in the hard sciences, Ted considered offers from a number of top schools, including his parents’ alma mater of Stanford, but in the end he left his familiar West Coast to attend MIT in Cambridge, MA.  There he majored in Chemistry, with a minor in Civil and Environmental Engineering.  That first year, 2003, proved to be somewhat less extraordinary than his high school years, as he suddenly found that he had to really work to keep up. He was younger than most of peers, true, but he wasn’t the youngest… nor was he the brightest, a fact it took him some time to adjust to.

But he did adjust, and by his sophomore year he was solidly near the top of his class again, if not at the very top. This failure to reach the educational pinnacle he expected of himself he would later blame on the little family “gift” that presented itself  to him that second year – severe migraines. The first one, shortly after the school year began, left him panicked and freaked out – the loss of vision, the numbness on the right side of his face and in his right hand, the nausea, all left him certain he was having a stroke. After the student health center assured him it wasn’t a stroke, he spent the next three days in bed with the most excruciating pain he’d ever experienced shredding his brain, wishing he owned a gun so he could just… make… it… stop!

When he finally recovered and called his parents to tell them about it, they sighed deeply, and regretfully let him in on a family secret: his dad also had suffered from migraines, as had many generations of Carbonet men. It was clearly genetic, but as with all migraines no one had yet learned the precise cause of the devastating headaches.  They had never told him because they had hoped he wouldn’t suffer from them, as his mother’s family had no history with headaches of any sort; and there had really been no way to know until and unless they actually manifested, so why give him something to worry over and anticipate? The only good news was that the headaches seemed to stop around age 30 in the Carbonet men, so he could expect to eventually outgrow them. Of course they also usually started at a much younger age, so who knew?

Through trial and error, Ted figured out that the best cure for his migraines was meditation and biofeedback, and the best way to cultivate those skills was through exercise. The repetitive nature of regular workouts helped him center his mind, so that as soon as the migraine “aura” began (usually not so much during stressful times, as after the stress was removed) he could focus inward and try to “short circuit” the headache. While it didn’t always work, it did so often enough to make the condition bearable; and he got better at it as the years went on.

He tried out for and gained a spot on the university’s prestigious crew team that same year, which required him to work out and/or row on the Charles River almost every day. He found being on the water to be a profoundly relaxing experience, and as his connection to the water grew, he also took up to sailing and SCUBA diving, all of which helped with his control of the migraines.

At the end of his four years, Ted opted to stay on at MIT for his postgrad studies, and it was while he was working on his Masters in Civil and Environmental Engineering that he first met a brilliant physics student named Kyle Steiner. Ted was a TA in an advanced chemistry class Steiner was taking, and he was impressed by the freshman’s grasp of the complicated subject matter.

After class one day, talking about a particularly convoluted problem to which Kyle had found an unorthodox solution, they decided to go for beers and ended up in an all-night bull session, something Ted hadn’t done since his own undergraduate years. While the two didn’t become fast friends, they did become friendly acquaintances… Ted attended a couple of Kyle’s fencing matches, and Kyle came out for a few of Ted’s rowing competitions, and they met for beers every so often.

But they moved in different circles, and when Ted received his PhD in Environmental Chemistry in 2010, at the age of 24, having wowed the doctoral committee with his thesis on carbon sequestration in ocean water, they lost touch. Ted heard about Kyle’s spectacular win at the 2012 Olympics, of course, but after that he seemed to drop out of sight, and his own work occupied his full attention.

Having been away from the West Coast for so long, after collecting his doctorate Ted decided it was time to go back home. His parents had been hinting that it would be nice to have him closer… and besides, the West Coast had many more opportunities for experimental research in climate change than did the East Coast. He figured he could write his own ticket out there, as opposed to working for years as somebody’s underling in Boston or New Atlantis.

Having made the decision, he put out feelers, and fielded several offers up and down the coast. By far the most lucrative offer he got was from the Talon Island Refinery (a wholly owned subsidiary of Sovereign Industries) in Astoria, Oregon.  Ted certainly had some misgivings about working for a company he’d spent years thinking of as an enemy of the environment… but location (up-and-coming tech-centered city in his home state, close to Mom and Dad), perks (a condo in the University District, full healthcare, 401k, stock options) and a great salary all combined to tip the scales. He rationalized that he would work from within the “belly of the beast” to help change the company’s environmental impact.  Plus, if he was successful, the benefits of his work would be felt literally all over the world.

His parents were thrilled with the move, if not so much with his employer, and for several years everything seemed to be going great.  He was able to set up his own lab and conduct experiments on using sea water to sequester carbon, and his results were promising.  Socially, he was able to take advantage of his trendy location by hanging out with old friends from Eugene, many of whom had relocated to the City of Tomorrow, and going on a great many dates – though in his mid-20’s he was in no rush to settle down.  He also bought an 18’ cutter so he could keep up with his sailing. He never tired of the thrill of crossing the dangerous Columbia Bar, and the challenges of navigating the coastal waters of the inaccurately named Pacific Ocean.

Perhaps the only thing missing from his life was the opportunity to row, and to make up for it, he joined a gym in an effort to keep strong and stay healthy. His migraines, while not gone by any means, were more-or-less under control, and as is typical with a lot of people, once away from the structured life of a university, Ted’s discipline started to slip. His trips to the gym weren’t always as regular as they should’ve been, and his nights out were often later than was probably wise. Ted had a lot of leeway at work – being in charge of his own lab, he could arrive late in the mornings if he wished, making up for it by simply working later in the evenings.

On the Friday evening of Easter weekend, Ted was alone in his lab working on one of the bigger tanks in which he monitored the injection of carbon into salt water. He wanted to get this latest experimental test run finished so he could drive down to Eugene and his parents’ house with a clear conscience tomorrow. Suddenly, out of nowhere, an intense pain shot through his brain like a white hot ice pick – it was the worst migraine he’d suffered since that first one, but with no warning, no precursor, no aura! The shock and sudden disabling pain staggered him, and he slipped on the wet catwalk, catching his foot on the edge of the open hatchway. As he tumbled over into the tank he reached out blindly for support, but only managed to catch the edge of the hatch. As he splashed into the briny water he heard it slam closed above him.

Suffering debilitating pain and disoriented in the pitch darkness, Ted panicked, thrashing around the cold water and shouting futilely for help. Damn, why had he let his lab assistant go home?! The thought that he might die in here suddenly pierced the pain in his brain. He was a good swimmer, to be sure, but how long could he tread water?  Was there enough air in the tank to last… shit, until Monday? And then the real problem cut through his fog – the injectors were set to run the new test on a timer, and it would go off any–

The roar of the massive carbon injectors deafened him, and almost made him black out as the pain in his head redoubled. Through the shreds of his fading consciousness he became aware of a percolating sound… bubbles all around him… and then they seemed to gather below his feet… his last thought was to wonder who would tell his poor parents, before he was carried upward on a sudden jet of water. He only partially managed to shield his head as he slammed into the hatch, which flew open as his body was driven upward… and everything faded to black…

When he awoke, he was lying in a hospital bed, his worried parents by his side. They told him that his lab assistant had come back, having forgotten her iPhone, and found Ted laying on the wet floor next to one of his tanks. She called an ambulance, and then Ted’s parents, who had been at his bedside for 14 hours, waiting for him to wake up. Ted, still confused and not a little embarrassed about what had happened, told them that he must’ve slipped while up on the catwalk.  Despite what was assumed to be quite a fall, the only damage he seemed to suffer was a concussion; he had no broken bones and just had the one bump on his head and some nasty bruises on his left arm.

His parents wanted to take him home to Eugene with them to oversee his recovery, once the doctors released him, but Ted just wanted to go home to his condo in the University District. After a tense meeting with the Talon Island Refinery HR rep, where he managed to sooth the woman’s fears that he would file a workman’s comp claim, he talked his parents into driving him home. They insisted on spending the night, but the next day, after church, they could see he seemed to be doing just fine, and headed back to Eugene.

Ted was given medical leave from work so he could recover – HR had actually insisted on it – and he planned to take advantage of the situation. The first night was rough, which he’d hidden from his parents, so the second night he decided to relax in his Jacuzzi before bed. He lit a couple of candles, filled the tub and got in. While lying eyes closed in the hot, soothing water, he realized that he’d forgotten to turn on the jets. He thought about sitting up, but the idea of fumbling around for the buttons was exhausting, frankly.

He was pleased, therefore, when the jets turned themselves on. At first he assumed there must be an automatic timer, but as he lay in the warm bubbling water, he realized it did not, in fact have such a feature… and he didn’t hear a motor or any other mechanical sound. As he sat up in sudden consternation he also realized that the bubbles weren’t hitting him from all sides like they would with the spa jets… instead, they seemed to be directional…away from him…?  He lifted his hands out of the water and a blast of concentrated bubbles shot out of his finger tips, hitting the stuff on his bathroom counter and sending everything flying in all directions!

His first thought – after what the fuck!? – was that he had gained a super power.  How great was that! The second thought, as bubbles continued to fly uncontrolled around the room, destroying everything in their path, was that he didn’t know how to make it stop!  With that thought, the stream of bubbles ceased, fading out almost instantly.  Ted sank back into the water in stunned disbelief. It might not be the greatest superpower he’d ever heard of, but it was something!

Ted took another week off from work after the first one, using his accumulated vacation time, and spent the days experimenting with his new power. When more space was needed, and he needed fewer things to be destroyed, he went up to the roof of his building to shoot bubbles into the sky. He didn’t think much of the possible consequences until he heard a shout from a neighboring building, “Cool bubbles, man!” Ted kicked himself then for not considering the need for secrecy… he hoped the guy thought he was just blowing bubbles with a wand or something. “Thanks,” he called back weakly, with a friendly wave. After that, he conducted his experiments in more secure locations.

Which did not included his lab. He wasn’t sure how much his employers really cared about his research, or how closely they watched him, but he wasn’t prepared to bet that they didn’t have some means of spying on him if they wanted to. Best not to risk it… Decisions needed to be made. Should he reveal his power to the world or keep his identity a secret?  What could he actually do with this odd power anyway?  Sure, he could manipulate bubbles in very interesting ways… he’d found he could even fly, sort of, by lifting himself up on a column of frothing bubbles…  but could he defeat the Steel Shogun, for instance?  Should he try to fight crime or just join the Cirque de Soleil?  Maybe he should he quit his job… he didn’t fully trust his corporate overlords, and who knew what they’d try if they knew about his power?

In the end Ted decided to keep his job, going back to his lab after his two week period of recovery and reflection. He also decided that he needed to keep his power and his identity a secret, at least for now. But if he ever did need to use his powers, he needed some way to keep his face concealed. He shopped at various costume retailers around town, trying to find a decent mask, but nothing seemed right.  He didn’t want to look cheesy or steal an existing hero’s (or villain’s) identity.

He was at a loss until he found himself combing through his back closet and came across his old SCUBA gear.  The pullover top and hood, while not perfect, would be adequate, and no one locally had seen him wear it. Plus, they sort of matched the primary colors of his standard bubbles, blue, green and purple. Coupled with a pair of blue-tinted ski goggles, it would be more than enough to hide his identity.  Of course, the scuba top was very unforgiving, so he renewed his efforts at the gym in a serious way.

A month passed, but he’d still not found the right time to try out his new “superheroic” persona… although he had finally decided on a name – Dr. Froth! He’d worked his ass off for that doctorate, no reason he shouldn’t enjoy the fruits of it even in an alternate identity. He continued to practice with his powers, and he was constantly finding new ways to use them… but he still didn’t feel confident enough yet to debut them in a real-life situation.

He was sound asleep on a Monday morning in mid-May, when the phone woke him.  He fumbled groggily for it, but didn’t recognize the number… “H’llo?”

“Good morning Ted,” a deep, resonate voice said. “It’s going to be a beautiful day today. Perfect for starting a new chapter in your life, really.”

“What?” Ted mumbled, trying to come awake. “Who is this? What do you mean–”

“Oh Ted, I think you know exactly what I mean,” the voice cut him off, sounding amused. “Don’t you think you’ve dicked around enough? Time to commit… although I think it might be a bit warm today for the wetsuit. I’d just take the hood and the goggles, personally. And if you leave in the next 20 minutes, you should just get to the Silver Mile in time.”

“In time for what?” Ted demanded, suddenly very much awake. “And, uh, what do you mean about a hood and goggles? I don’t know what–”

But the line was dead. And Ted had a decision to make…