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***

Anthony Stark woke up early - at noon. He yawned lazily and rolled over onto his other side.

- Sir, you have a business call with Abstergo....

- Leave me alone, Jarvis, I'm trying to sleep.

- Miss Potts has been trying to have this conversation for six weeks.

- Jarvis, I'm telling you to back off," Stark tried to sleep.

However, Jarvis complied with Miss Potts' instructions:

- 'According to the analysis centre's research, the electronics in Abstergo's smartphones are far superior to your military designs. And the molecular field transistor processor is far superior to the electronics in Stark Industries' missile defence system.

Stark jumped up on the bed.

- What did you say?

- I said you were made, sir. And not by someone cool, but by a phone manufacturer. The Ministry of Defence has requested that your ABM system be upgraded to a new one, on an elemental base similar to Abstergo's.

Stark, in his underwear, went to the bar:

- Get the owner of this company on the phone.

- Did you misunderstand, sir? Miss Potts has been trying to talk to him for six weeks.

- What, he doesn't have a phone and he lives in Siberia?

- Close enough, sir. The Urals, that's just outside Siberia.

However, Tony couldn't dial a number and demand to be sold the components. But he could find his trousers lying on the floor and dial Pepper's number.

- Miss Potts, have you scheduled a negotiation with someone from Abstergo? - he asked bluntly.

- Mr Stark, I hope you'll take this seriously," the secretary replied grumpily, "I've been calling Abstergo for almost two months, asking to be put through to the man in charge.

- And what, they dared to refuse? - Stark took a swig of something in a Starbucks glass. Cold coffee.

- This is Russia, Tony. You're respected in America and Europe, but Abstergo doesn't care how many bombs you've made for America. It's more like an excuse not to even talk.....

- So," Tony tossed back his empty glass, "then why don't you just tell them to fuck off?

- You can't. I got a call from Jobs and Hammer this morning. They're doing something.

- A dude who even goes to the loo wearing a white jacket and an old trainer fanatic?

Pepper took a deep breath, but answered:

- It doesn't matter. They're already in on the game. If you back off, Stark Industries will have to give way to the Hummer.

- What? Uh, no, never! - Give me that prick's number and I'll talk to him personally.

* * *

12.10.2005.

* * *

It was quiet in the ward. Quiet, smelling of pine. Peggy Carter opened her eyes, looking around. The place was unfamiliar to her, so she got out of bed to find out what was going on and where she was. However, the result was unexpected - first of all - she examined herself, finding a young, strong body. Peggy looked at her graceful arms, slim waist, small breasts and shapely legs with amazement. She even felt her skin and pinched herself - it wasn't a dream.

- Where am I? What's wrong with me? - she asked loudly.

Peggy didn't expect to hear an answer. She'd had enough surprise for one day. However, instead of an answer, the door of a wardrobe built into the wall opened, revealing to Peggy an array of beautiful suits, dresses, and so on. She ran over to it, afraid someone would catch her, and began rummaging through the wardrobe, picking out clothes. Everything appeared to fit her. Peggy put on jeans and a T-shirt. There was no make-up. There were no answers. Just as she finished dressing, the door opened and on the doorstep appeared....

- Steve? - Peggy's eyes widened in surprise. However, Steve was too - the sixteen-year-old version of Peggy was even cuter than the close-to-thirty lady he knew. Steve asked back:

- Peggy? Peggy, is that you?

- 'Well, I guess so,' she shrugged, 'now explain where we are and what's wrong with me! - Peggy stared at him demandingly," Wait," she started to remember something, "Steve, but you're dead....

Hyarty had warned Steve that transferring consciousness from an old, dying brain to a new one would inevitably lead to consequences like amnesia or partial disorientation in time and space.

- Peggy," Steve stepped closer and put his arms around her and kissed her. Peggy, who didn't realise anything at all, didn't have the guts to stop it. So for about five minutes they kissed, after which Steve led Peggy out of the hospital room by the hand:

- Peggy, what's the last thing you remember? - He asked.

- I..." she hesitated, slowing her step a little, "I remember everything, but it's hard to remember. It seems that recently you promised me a date..." she hesitated, "but you were late.....

- That was seventy years ago, Peggy," Stephen said, his head down.

- What?" she jumped away from him, "what seventy years? What are you talking about? Where am I?

- Shh. It's all right. I've just been gone for seventy years. Remember, remember everything.

Peggy reached the base's living room and Steve sat her down on the couch that stood near the fireplace. Peggy tucked her legs under her and stared at the fire in thought. Steve looked around. The living room looked as usual - a large room with everything necessary and not so necessary - a sofa, armchairs, a fireplace, bookshelves and a television on the wall, a classic Earth computer that he used as a model and prototype parts scattered around the table.

- So I'm Peggy Carter. I'm ninety-eight years old..." she pondered, "wow. Then why do I look so..." she looked at her hands, "do you have a mirror?

- Yes, of course," Steve immediately asked Bersie for a mirror. It was on the wall, near the wardrobe. Peggy went to the mirror, Steve stood beside her. The girl gazed into her reflection and asked the boy for answers:

- You didn't answer. What's going on?

- My friend who got me out of the ice brought back your youth... - Steve put his arm around her shoulders. Peggy sighed heavily:

- But I'm less now!

- Biologically, you're sixteen years old. Don't ask me, he's the boss, he's decided that's a better age.

Carter pressed her lips together unhappily:

- How did he do it? And who is this He?

- How... just grew you a clone of your sixteen year old body and transferred your consciousness into it. Old lady Carter's body was burned in an incinerator..." Steve smirked, seeing that Peggy didn't believe him, "As for the personality, you'd better meet him in person. He's not an easy guy to get to know.

Carter took a deep breath:

- I'm hungry.

A voice from the living room answered her:

- Lunch is on the table, Miss Carter.

Peggy looked across the table at Stephen. Lunch was indeed there.

- I didn't see any waiters," she said suspiciously.

- Quantum teleportation. Unfortunately, we are still able to move small objects inside the base, but it's a great way to eliminate the need for chores," the same voice from the ceiling answered her.

* * *

I walked into the base, barely able to stay on my feet. I yawned, kicked off my shoes, and waddled to the couch. Steve and Peggy, the lovebirds, were already on the couch. They were asleep, so I didn't bother them and, yawning, fell onto the other couch. There were plenty of them in the living room. I cringed. Should I get a cat or a girl? No, better a cat.

He woke up to the sound of voices:

- Is he asleep?

- I don't know.

- He's awake now," I opened my eyes, "Good morning.

Steve smirked:

- It's nighttime, Hyarty. Wake up.

I stood up, struggling to get my head off the couch. Looked round at them. Peggy looked chic, Steve looked ordinary, which is to say, also very nice. I looked like a bum on the rublevka, in a wrinkled Italian suit and a sleep-deprived face.

- Pardon me," I got up and ran into the loo. Then into the bathroom. A normal man came out.

While I was bathing, the lovebirds were cooing about something.

- Bersey, how are they doing?

- The usual. Captain, why don't you talk to Peggy? Something seems to be bothering her.

I chuckled. Of course she's worried about everything.

After asking for breakfast to be delivered to the living room, I went out to the people, so to speak. Wow, there's three of us already. Why did I take these lovebirds in? They're supposed to be of some use to me.

- All right, my dears, what have you got? Peggy, welcome back. How do you like your new body?

Carter turned to me:

- And you are...

- Hyarty. A modest businessman," I smiled at her, "So, does it feel tight?

Peggy pounced on me with questions. She was much more curious than Stephen and asked questions in a completely different way:

- Why do you want this? I mean, what you did... Why do you want me?

What's the question, really?

- Peggy, are you all right? I told you before I took you out of the nursing home, you can work for me if you want. I got you a new body, just like I promised. Especially since, according to your biography, which is quite rich, you were at the origins of Shield, which is a good experience in creating creepy-secret-organisations.

Carter thought for a moment:

- So I'm supposed to work for you?

- No, you don't owe me anything. If you don't want to, that's your right," I resented that interpretation, "If you want to, Bersie will give you all the materials you need.

Steve put a hand on Peggy's shoulder:

- Peggy, your experience will be very useful.

* * *

Peggy took up the task of setting up the organisation with enthusiasm. A large staff was to be replaced by a single iskine, although the day after I started work, Peggy gave me a list of required specialists. Above all, people were needed. Living staff, not a single, albeit very capable machine. I wouldn't be personally chasing around the planet, watching for any suspicious activity, would I? And it wouldn't be Steve, would it?

Peggy was given a very nice office, and she was quickly settling in. The delivery of goods from Earth to the moon was in full swing - Peggy was ordering all sorts of goodies.

I was busy working on a low-orbit ion cannon. To be more precise - not exactly an ion cannon, but rather a multifunctional geostationary satellite. The satellite was needed for signal retransmission, jamming of radio signals, mobile communication, observation of the planet, and among other things - attack on ground objects. I'll keep silent about navigation - it's a matter of course - there is no desire to use the American very curious system. I'm not an exhibitionist.

Carter came into my hangar:

- Can I see you?

- Yes? - I'm distracted by the satellite's big bandura, what have you got, Peggy?

- I've been doing the math. We need people. And we need enough people we can trust.

I shrugged:

- Good. Where are we going to get them? - I wiped my hands with a rag, tossing it aside.

Peggy looked at her companion and waved her hands:

- You can't get good specialists on the road. We have to either recruit someone or grow our own.

I wondered. Peggy was right. There's nothing to be done - we should start recruiting. Only not everyone has to know about the moon base. Better if no one knows at all, except for the three of us.....

Carter was interested:

- What's this - she jabbed her finger at a satellite.

- A multifunctional satellite. A prototype. It's got almost all the functions of satellites - communications, surveillance, fire support...

Peggy nodded:

- 'Yeah, well, we're not going to give every agent a quantum transmitter... That's good.

- Peggy," I interrupted her thought, "I don't want to keep a duplicate Shield on my personal balance sheet. The basic idea of my organisation is that it should be dealing with real threats, not chasing every piece of junk from an alien ship in the hope that humanity will remain ignorant of the existence of extraterrestrial life for a while longer....

- Hyarty, but it's necessary, for the greater good....

- Peggy, get that nonsense out of your head. Contactology with underdeveloped civilisations is a whole science, and there's no reason to believe that Earthlings will go mad en masse. Unless it's just the Americans.

Carter gasped in frustration:

- Americans, then?

- Yes. No offence, but your nation's mentality has been affected by years of living in isolation from outside threats. You've lost your sensitivity to threats, you've become irritable. Like a turtle under a shell. That is why you consider any potential threat as a challenge to yourself, although potential threats have always existed and will always exist. Take the Red Menace, or the terrorists of September 11th.....

- By the way, this is not a joke!

- Peggy, according to Bersey's information, the atomic weapon was created in America. And America used it, and the only thing that kept the Americans from using bombs on the Reds was the lack of a carrier plane. Stalin unleashed the war in Korea to delay World War III, and had time to create his own bomb. I see that one, economically and technically developed state created a weapon, and the second, devastated by the war, was forced to try its best to delay the war and parry the threat by creating similar weapons. So, who do you think was threatening whom here? The following is an illustration of what I'm saying. The fact that there is another nation in the world with the power to go to war with America was perceived as a threat. Then it took on the scale of madness - propaganda, crude and subtle, brainwashing... and this is the result. Everyone is convinced it's the Reds who are so bad....

Peggy asked doubtfully:

- Well, if you look at it this way...

- Islamic terrorists are just a handful of fanatics. But everyone here understands everything but is silent - the USA invaded the Middle East, pumping oil with a terrible force and as a consequence - getting profit from it. It is useless to fight - the USA is stronger, it is impossible to put up with the fact that Uncle Sam came into your house and robbed your fridge. The only thing left to do is kick the Invasion. When the last American soldier leaves the middle east - we will see if the terrorist attacks will continue or not.

- I'm afraid the US will never leave this region," Carter said confidently, "the whole economy is behind it.

- Peggy, never say never," I smiled, "say, if I brought to market fusion energy technology, cheap and very capacious batteries that could cut the cost of a car almost in half? In a year, the last petrol car would be scrapped. And aeroplane. And ship. And oil will be sold at the price of raw materials for plastics. And all those bonzes who sponsor bloody oil extraction with genocide of Arabs - will instantly leave the region, trying to survive without the oil needle.

That's what she's interested in:

- You mean you have this technology?

- And I've already built the first fusion reactor on earth," I nodded, "but so far it's only powering my smartphone factory. I'm already putting batteries in the equipment, but their scale is still small. And I have the patents.

Peggy was impressed.

- But this means--

- A revolution. First of all, the influence of the US and Russia will decrease, and China will increase in importance as the only country with real industry. Ecology and transport will become much better, especially in big cities and industrial centres.

Peggy, dumbfounded by the information dumped on her, said:

- It looks like I need to rethink some plans....

- Plans?

- If we're not in the business of secreting the presence of aliens, what's the point of having a large staff? You're right about that. About the reaction... also, oddly enough.

- I shrugged, "I'm an Xandarian, I don't care about your Earth stuff. You know, it's like growing up. When a child is a child, he's overconfident, he thinks he's the centre of the galaxy, and he doesn't understand the reality of things. Over time, he rethinks his position in society. Children think that everything is easy and simple, but as we grow up we realise that the world does not revolve around us. That there are stronger, smarter, richer people out there and there is nothing we can do about it. I foresee that adolescence in Earth civilisation can be painful and have unpredictable consequences.

Peggy raised an eyebrow in surprise:

- Adolescence? I don't think that comparison is appropriate.

- Rethinking your position in society," I rephrased, "Take, for example, the three hundred and twentieth division of the Xandar Space Marines-two million, six hundred thousand men, six hundred combat space landing craft, eighty thousand armoured vehicles-tanks, walkers, drones, aerospiders... no matter how hard you try, the Earth can't stand up to such a force. And that's only one of the eight hundred divisions of the Xandar Air Force, and not the largest and strongest. Okay, standard. Right now, Earthlings are like a tribe of Australian aborigines. Isolated, far from the centres of civilisation and under an alien protectorate. You have to base your strategy on these realities.

Peggy is a little out of touch with reality. Not for long:

- Good. I'll take that under advisement.

* * *

30.10.2005.

* * *

The business situation has changed dramatically. First of all, the long-awaited event happened - Hammer and Jobs made their move. They tried to send spies to me, to recruit people, and also tried to ban the sale of my gadgets. The latter was a bust, but they successfully recruited spies. The director found out about them in the first few days and began to leak our plans to them, which made Hammer and Jobs very nervous. However, I wouldn't be me if I didn't strike back. First of all, I prepared a whole package of stolen documents - the old man's reports to the CIA. The old man was bending his back to the officials who proudly and uselessly called themselves "agent". Although they were not agents, as an agent is an employee working "in the field". In brief, the CIA provided him with a list of its firmware programmes, tracking programmes. A copy of the letters in which Jobs was forced to make a non-removable flash drive and battery - that it was impossible to remove the memory physically and it was impossible to completely switch off the phone - even in a switched off state it could transmit a signal, it would be switched on unnoticeably and turned into a bug. That's democracy and freedom of speech. And they were also dissatisfied with "big brother"... Their work was productively organised. Well, I just chose the most murderous letters and extracted quotations from them and compiled it all into a ready newspaper article.

The article was rich with quotes from Jobs himself and from the CIA who were involved in mass surveillance. Especially amusing was the fact that the main apple man of the planet considered his customers to be animals that obey "primitive instincts, like Pavlov's dog". The description of the whole policy of Apple was in one of their most secret directives, and it was full of the most cynical conclusions about the current consumer - the document detailed how they will occupy and hold the hegemony of their company, at the expense of the "low psychological attitudes" of their consumers. And it works like clockwork.

That's the information bomb I planted on Apple. I'll take care of the dude in a very special way.

First the documents leaked to wikileaks. Then the data of the developers of the newest, fourth iPhone leaked to wikileaks, then the schematics of tracking elements in the phone and software codes, including the codes of their online shop, security system. Audio recordings of private conversations between Jobs and the CIA.....

The leak started to spread even before the end of the download. First of all - major American media suddenly started contacting Apple and CIA, however, in China and Russia, and later in several European countries, began processing the information. And, the next day, analytical articles were posted on behalf of the incognito journalist. The material is killer, frankly.