Spider-Man SI

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***

A cafe near the State University of New York. A little over a week later.

- Gwen, explain this to me. - I stretched out pathetically and pointed my finger at the third person at our table in an uncultured manner. - What is she doing here?!

- Pete, don't you like it when beautiful ladies like us sit next to you? - Felicia said in a husky voice.

- Pfft...' I shuddered. - One blonde is enough for me, it's impossible to feed! By the way, I won't feed you ice-creams! - I finished gloatingly.

- Pfft... - she echoed me, taking a bite of cake. - I don't like ice cream, I'm more into cakes. By the way, thank you, this one was delicious!

- Cats don't eat cake!

- Mrrrrrr... cats walk on their own... mrrrrr... mrrrrrr....

Yeah, that's how we live. It's the beginning of the second week already. Now we were sitting in a coffee shop near the university. Felicia showed us the place, and it's the only conventionally useful thing she's done. It's all she can do to be mean and snide all the time. Even the fact that she studies at another faculty and seems to have nothing to do with genetics does not prevent her from spending all her free time in our company. How she got a pass to Connors' lab, I just don't know. It's unbelievable! This nice lady sang together with Gwen, and now they both give me no rest, making life interesting and full of positivity. Although man is such a creature that gets used to everything, so I find something positive in my situation (well, I try to find...). Now, at least, the blondes have already moved away from that ill-fated party, and the events that followed. They are laughing again, and enjoying life, leaving that nightmare in the past. Cakes and ice cream from me are helping them get back to normal.

Yeah. That was a long night. It meant a lot to me. It added five new graves to my personal graveyard. But if my first victim was an accident, these people I killed deliberately. I made a big decision, and now I'm going to stick to it. My cemetery will grow. I've always been amazed at how superheroes go out of their way to catch the bad guys, bring them to justice, and just a week later they're out of jail. And then it's back to business as usual. It's crazy, isn't it? A bullet in the temple and all the problems are solved once and for all. The Punisher and Blade are the ones to look up to. But that's about my moral quandaries, which are of no interest to anyone....

I spent the rest of that night dealing with material matters. From the generous detachment of 'Hobgoblins' I was left a lot of equipment and gear. I had no intention of letting it go to waste. But I had some vague doubts... So I divided all the good into several piles. The first was weapons and ammunition. The second was the actual suits, unloads, and elements of defence. In the third, I put the jetpacks separately, because they looked the most dubious. And I also sent all the electronics I'd assembled to them as well. It took me a long time, but I got it all into separate hiding places. It's good that I'm not the first day of climbing all sorts of roofs and other dubious places, so finding a few hiding places was not so problematic.

When I was done with that, I decided to take care of myself. And so I directed my carcass to the Hell's Kitchen area. Daredevil had seemed to me to be a great expert in self-healing when we first met. And my wounded arm was starting to hurt even with the painkillers. The lawyer helped me as I'd hoped, but it took me almost an hour to find him. I should have taken his business card, it would have been easier. But that's just the way it was. I even made it home before dawn. I even got half an hour's sleep.

I left the house in the morning, didn't even eat breakfast. I'm afraid if my family saw me then, they would have taken me for a zombie. The main thing is that they made sure I was, like, home for the night. I rang Gwen and after talking to her, I went to her flat. Captain Stacey had left for work first thing in the morning, it was Sunday, which meant none of the three of us were in a hurry to get anywhere. As soon as I closed the door behind me, the girls wanted to pounce on me with questions, and generally share their impressions. But when they saw the circles under my eyes and my arm, which was almost hanging by a whip, they spared me and put me to bed.

After a short nap, I felt better. Even my arm stopped hurting so much. It took me a great deal of labour to persuade the girls that our adventures should not be publicised, and that the police should not be involved. It took me about four hours. We spent the rest of the day together. I felt that the blondes needed support, so I tried my best to cheer them up. I even ran to the shop and bought different kinds of ice cream for Gwen, and some small cakes for Felicia. So we sat there watching telly. The girls were huddled together, so I had to do my best to hold back the lustful glances. Two gorgeous blondes in tight tops and shorts that looked more like panties... ugh....

It's been a busy week since then, too. The first thing I did was take over my deceased friends' communal pools. Thereby improving my financial situation quite a bit. The money of that unknown woman I did not touch yet, they were safely hidden, so I did not doubt their safety. Then I got to grips with the Goblin inheritance. If I had been Norman Osborn, I would have fitted my equipment with tracking devices. After all, the Goblins carried some pretty expensive pieces of modern scientific genius. During the interrogation, I learnt that the suits were made of some kind of bulletproof material. An analogue of Kevlar. In fact, the suit itself acts as a light armour waistcoat, quite light, but at least so. Particularly vulnerable places on the human body were covered with thicker plates that could save from larger calibres. For me, a suit of this kind was very important, especially after a wound. Since I had less desire to blow holes in my body, even such protection from at least most types of guns was worth a lot. If I wanted to, the suit could withstand a machine gun bullet. I guess bruises and bruises are better than a hole in the belly. Of course, the suit could not be an absolute defence, but hopefully it could help me if my spider sense failed me.

Actually it was only the suits, and if you think of jetpacks! Such obviously expensive equipment had to be packed with bugs. As it turned out, apparently Osborne and I were thinking along the same lines. Property must be protected. I've searched everywhere I can and hopefully found all the bugs. Still, I didn't risk taking everything back to my house, just found better hiding places, and re-hidden things.

My wound was surprisingly almost healed. Of course I'm still dressing it, but that's more to keep the blondes from getting suspicious. So, I don't really care about it anymore. You have that spider to thank for that again? I guess. I can't think of any other explanation for my accelerated regeneration. This came as a pleasant surprise to me, as I had no idea the original Spidey had such talents. It's a shame his wounds don't heal like Wolverine's, but it's not bad, not bad at all.

- Pete! - I got elbowed in the side.

- W-what? - I hissed, kissing the table.

- Don't pretend! I didn't hurt you at all! Stop daydreaming! Lunch is over, let's go back to the lab.

Connors. That's a separate story. Our apprenticeship with the Prof is over, well, mine is. I don't want to praise myself, so I won't. It's just that initially my knowledge was a bit more extensive than Gwen's. So it took me less time to assimilate Kurt's knowledge, theories and postulates. Even though I was spending my time living a second life. I couldn't, like Gwen, devote all my free time to science. I had to sometimes maintain my superhero reputation by helping the police. Nevertheless, I could already grasp the concept of a human regeneration prof. It probably looks like pure fiction from the outside, but I've already seen it - it's quite realistic, just need to solve literally a few obstacles. Already now in the laboratory are experiments on animals. Poor rats and rabbits... yep.

But that's not even the point. I'm really starting to fear for Connors. He scares me. Like me, like Gwen, and even like Felicia, he wears a mask. Behind the guise of fun-loving, and even somewhat of a joker, he hides longing and pain. Losing an arm is a hard blow for an up-and-coming surgeon. As much as I get to know Kurt, I realise that he was and still is more of a doctor, an extra-class surgeon than a scientist. He is undeniably a talented geneticist and researcher, but if it's really interesting to me, it's a must for him. Everything he's achieved has been about getting his arm back and being able to operate. I don't want him to lose it.

- Peter! Hey! Brock didn't look too good. It looked like he hadn't been to bed in at least two days. Frizzy hair, dark circles under his eyes, his eyes were red as hell. Clothes unironed and sloppily dressed. Hmm... he hadn't been seen in the lab yesterday, had he?

- Yeah, hi, Eddie. Where have you been? You don't look too good.

- Huh? Never mind. Listen, Pete, I want to talk to you. Just out of sight,' he gave Felicia a pained look. She was mocking another lab assistant Connors, she's so often amused, bored, you know. Gwen, on the other hand, was busy near the prof, so she was neutralised for the time being.

- Let's go away, then, - it wasn't bad to take a break from Felicia, too, so I gladly agreed to talk to Brock. At least he's a guy, and he doesn't have a bad habit of blowing people's minds. We slipped out of the lab, found an empty auditorium, and hid there.

- Pete. I was going through the files the night before last, and I found something interesting. Did you know that our parents weren't just friends? Our fathers worked on at least one project together.

- Yeah. Connors told me something like that. But hardly any details.

- Mm-hmm. - Brock looked around, like he was looking for surveillance or something. - So I was sorting through the files, and I found a whole box in the basement left by my dad. There were lab journals, diaries, and just a bunch of tattered formulae and calculations... It was their project materials. I don't think I slept at all. Pete, you have no idea what they were working on. It's amazing.

- Wait, what's it called? An autonomous bioengineering facility. Yes? ABC? Prof mentioned something like that.

- That was the original name of the project. The ABC was supposed to be a universal pill, a cure for cancer. A symbiote suit, integrating with the host organism and reacting quickly to pathological changes in its condition. But... - he looked round the empty audience again, and, lowering his voice continued. - But in the process of research it turned out that the symbiote has unplanned capabilities. More precisely... with the help of the suit, a person's physical strength increased and all abilities could improve. Vision, hearing, touch, regeneration, of course... Everything! You know?!

- Yeah, Eddie, that's amazing, but what's next? I take it they didn't succeed?

What Eddie was just telling me, that's what was amazing. If... if that's what I think it is.... But that's impossible! It wasn't like that! It wasn't like that at all! I need to calm down... the Eddie Brock situation is unique. If everything else happening to me and around me has any resemblance to what I remember, then... Symbiote... but it can't be him, can it?

- Whether it succeeded or not...I can't say. According to my father's notes, they were close. But I don't know... the notes are incomplete, some of them are missing, some of them are not legible at all. Perhaps you still have your father's notes? Then we might understand more.

- I... I don't know Eddie... we'd have to look. I wasn't interested in that.

- Look... yeah, look. - he looked round again, and he swallowed convulsively. - Pete, I don't know if they got everything they planned. But what I can tell you for sure is that they-- they weren't given the opportunity. My dad wrote, and I remember that moment, and they had a big fight... The project had its funding cut off. So they were forced to go under the wing of some paramilitary company. The latter wasn't interested in a cure for cancer, but soldiers.... Strong, resilient soldiers were needed. Gradually, they were removed from the project. Cut off from their life's work, and then there was that plane crash.

- Eddie, are you telling me that-- no, it's-- I've read the articles, and I've asked my uncle, and they were on a big passenger plane. Dozens of people died on it. To do something like that, that's-- that's--

- I don't know, Pete. I don't know. But the last dated entry is two days before the tragedy. And that's the one that said they'd been completely reassigned to other secondary projects.

- Oh, Eddie... well, you've got me stumped... okay. I'll have a look round my house, I might have my dad's inheritance too, I'll have to ask my uncle. Can you give me copies of what you found, by the way?

- Yeah, sure. I can give them to you now,' he pulled a thick folder out of his bag and handed it to me, 'I wanted to give them to you myself. Pete... I don't know if this is going to sound stupid... but maybe we can finish their work.

- Honour their memory in this way? There's something to it, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'm sorry, Ed. I've got to get this all out of my head, digest it.

I don't remember much of the rest of the day. My thoughts were always revolving around what Eddie had said. It was hard to digest. This project, the Symbiote, the new details of my parents' deaths that I didn't know about - everything was jumbled into a horrible swirl of speculation. So I tried to abstract myself, to leave the problem for a while and think it over with a fresh head. Gwen was busy with the prof. Felicia had disappeared from the lab altogether. Yep... on those rare occasions when you need them, when chatting with them about little things might help rather than just annoy, they're either busy or can't be found. Selfish creatures, only thinking of themselves!

Not finding moral support from my own girlfriend, or at least from her friend, I decided to go to work. I took out a notebook and continued to study in detail the concept of prof. I had a few ideas, it was necessary to spill everything on paper. It's easier for me, and it works better. I was just finishing drawing a chain of reactions when I received a notification on my phone. The usual automatic one. Shaking myself, I took off my dressing gown, and picked up my bag and ran outside. It seemed like an opportunity for a little bit of relaxation....

The worst thing in my... m-ma... well let it be a profession, is that I have to change clothes in some back alleys, dark gloomy, and devoid of any comfort. But I have to.... A recycled goblin costume, hastily put on, and here I am already flying on the web. Jetpacks I haven't touched yet. First, to handle them properly, you need training. And where to do that? But that's not even the point. Using them is worse than putting a sign around your neck that says, 'I stole from Osborne.' If only it were possible to put up with the anger of Norman himself, who, without being a fool, would immediately guess who had eliminated his men. So, probably, now in the police, or in the FBI is a statement of the tycoon that he stole five sets of experimental military models of uniforms. I do not need problems with law enforcement agencies, I have such a hard time maintaining with them, if not friendly relations, then certainly neutrality, that I have no desire to ruin the reputation! I even repainted the suits themselves in dark blue colour, and stripped off all unnecessary elements, so to speak, decorations. So, most likely jetpacks will need to be pushed to the side, only to whom ...

Having forged bugs out of Osborne's equipment, I was sinfully thinking of hammering them down and throwing them into the waters of the Hudson River. But I thought better of it. No good thing to go to waste! Taking a screwdriver and a soldering iron in my hands, I started to reprogram and re-flash these bugs thoughtfully. It was fun, and half of this junk I messed up. Did I mention my love of tinkering with things? I think I did. Anyway. I got a little carried away. I got a little Shark on my back and bought some spy stuff through him. Started messing around with them. I also took a master class from Shark on how to use the toys I bought and how to counteract them. At a certain point I was eager to test my new knowledge and my developments in practice. That's when I remembered that not all of Osborne's tracking equipment I had used for my experiments.

As the time for the Hobgoblins to kidnap Felicia was approaching, the fate of the squad that showed no signs of existence would soon be inquired about. So I decided to make an ambush. Not that I needed to... As already mentioned, I wanted to test my new toys in action. I found an abandoned half warehouse half workshop, and installed hidden video cameras, motion sensors, and more. All set up to work autonomously. If there was anyone in the warehouse, I'd get a notification on my phone. Like now...

I had to hurry, as I feared that Osborne's men wouldn't stay in the warehouse for too long. Of course, I'd be able to see them on video anyway, but..... I wanted more.

Showing myself was stupid, let my 'friend' Norman remain in ignorance about the person who killed his men and stole expensive equipment. So I crept up to the warehouse as carefully and slowly as possible. Having settled down in a convenient, well for me, as a spider convenient, place, I considered the car on which the guests arrived and left near the entrance to the building. Having fixed for any fire number, make and colour I was about to sneak inside as I saw that two more cars were coming to the entrance. Two black Humvees parked a little before the warehouse, and out of them fell about a dozen people in identical military uniforms without insignia, fully equipped with weapons. Only one middle-aged man was wearing a simple black suit. Rough, stone-cut features, sunglasses, and a rather muscular build - I didn't notice anything else noteworthy. The man climbed out, looked around, and sat back down, though without closing the door. The others spread out in the courtyard, pointing their automatic rifles at the warehouse doors. Oh, yeah! Competitors? That's weird and strange. Well, let's see what happens next...

Five minutes later, a trio of men came out of the building. When they saw the newcomers, they didn't seem to be very happy, as two of them immediately reached for their weapons. Two simultaneous short machine-gun bursts, and two men fell at the feet of the third. To my utter surprise, the latter was not frightened. Only frowned and went to the humvees, the machine gunners parted, letting this strange type through. The same stone-faced man came out of the car to meet him. A few metres away, they stopped.

- What do you mean, Rock? - addressed the strange man to his interlocutor. I almost guessed it, Scala - what a name! - Am I being recalled?

- What is it tired of walking in the image of such a weakling? Ah, Fantomas? - The Rock smiled, which made him even scarier, he wasn't that good-looking before, and now...

Stop! What are they talking about? This weirdo is supposed to be Osborne's man. I don't get it at all. Wait a minute! The figure of the strange man, meanwhile, was floating. As if he were made of plasticine. And in just a few minutes, the strange man was replaced by a completely different person, with only his clothes unchanged. As far as I could see, the strange man now hardly resembled a human being at all, completely bald, his face like a frozen mask, it had nothing remarkable, completely average parameters, it even seemed to float a little, not allowing himself to be remembered. And the strangest thing of all was the colour of its skin - a completely grey, unnatural colour... It's really creepy.

- When are you going to remember? My name is Chameleon, not something else. - The voice was supposed to express indignation, anger, or at least protest, but there was only indifference. - You seem to be still trying hard to imitate your boss in his younger years.

- Ha! - the interlocutor spat. - Such an authoritative man can and should be imitated! You should think about it too. You should work out your biceps and do some iron lifting. You're just a mushroom, hehehe.

As I continued to listen to the conversation, I considered the significance of the strange man's real name. Chameleon. On the one hand, it didn't tell me much. Since I don't remember much about this type's personality. But on the other, even crumbs of information can be useful. If I'm not mistaken, in the cartoon it was a regular person wearing a mask and a technological belt capable of changing Chameleon's appearance. That's about the birds. What's more important now is that he's a spy by occupation. I understand he's now pretending to be someone in Osborne's inner circle. I wonder who he's really working for?

- You still haven't answered,' Chameleon continued without reacting to his interlocutor's words. - Am I being recalled?

- Not now. The implementation plan is still being worked out.

- Why did you have to kill these people? - nodding at the two bodies near the warehouse entrance.

- The boss sends his regards to Mr Osborne,' the Rock smirked again. - You tell that wise guy that debts need to be repaid. Pay it back on time. And, yeah, you want to paint your own black eye? Or do you want me to help you? - The Rock cracked his knuckles.

- What's the assignment, you know? - This Chameleon is a terrible, cold-blooded type.

- Nothing in particular,' the stone-faced man grimaced in annoyance, but then he cheered up sharply. - I hope you're not afraid of heights? - The two men were silent for a moment, and then Skala spat disappointedly. - You're boring, Grey! Get ready to be a Shield agent! It'll be more interesting than this, won't it?

Chameleon nodded, seemingly unconsciously.

- Definitely... more interesting.

- What can I tell the boss? He was interested in Osborn.

- He'll have a detailed report tomorrow. Just tell him the Hobgoblins have been liquidated by someone.

- What?! That corrupt bitch Helena's finally dead!?! Lovely, just lovely! Details! - The Rock has undergone a miraculous transformation, making him look less like a dumb bully.

- It's not clear yet. I've been assigned to look into it. Yesterday, the police found the bodies of the group. There was no equipment on them. All I found were beacons, and not all of them. - The Chameleon showed his interlocutor a clear polythene bag with bugs in it. - And a thank-you note. And this. - a piece of paper was transferred into the hands of the Rock.

I'm sorry. I couldn't deny myself the pleasure of making fun of Osborne. So I left a piece of paper next to the bugs with a printed thank-you note to the patron of the arts. I also left a piece of paper next to the bugs.

- Joker? - The Rock chuckled, twirling the map in his hands.

There are no comics about the Night Knight in this universe, and no films have been made. Accordingly, there is no psychopath painted as a jester. As a huge fan of this particular character, I wouldn't forgive myself for neglecting my idol.

- Do you know someone with that nickname? - Chameleon wanted to make things easier for himself.

- I do. Or rather I knew, and even more than one. But this nickname is too much of a hound. So far, no one has been able to carry it for long. All right, I'm wondering who to thank for Helena, too. I'll try to find out who it is. I'll let you know. That's it?

- That's it. - The Chameleon had transformed back into that weirdo. Only now he didn't look like he'd been beaten up.

The Rock and the machine gunners got into the Humvee and Chameleon got behind the wheel of his car. I heard the noise of engines being switched on, and I followed the Humvees without hesitation. I was curious about the identity of the Rock's boss. Who the Chameleon really works for.

***

State University of New York. Genetics lab. After lunch.

- M-ma-- Felicia, I'm sorry! I think Professor Connors called for me. - one of the Prof's lab assistants with a funny name hurried away.

- Mr-r-r... - the girl gave the boy a thoughtful glance. - Ugh! Something I purr too often... - the blonde muttered under her breath.

It's Parker. Where did he get the idea that she looked like a cat? She didn't mind being called that, though. And she liked purring so much that it became a habit. It was like she did it all the time. The game, which she had started as a joke on Pete, immediately appealed to her. It was easy to identify with the feline family, and deep in her soul she realised that the role of a cat suited her even better than that of a human.

Felicia looked around the lab. All the available lab technicians had gone somewhere. Boring. Who she would make eyes at and ask hundreds of unrelated questions. Who's going to get a tomato-coloured complexion with a little flirting? These lab technicians are so innocent and so obviously reactive, she just couldn't deny herself the pleasure. A little revenge on the entire male species... So far so small and almost harmless. But only for now.

So who hasn't hidden yet? The Professor explaining something to Gwen. Well, unfortunately, they're not her clients. Connors made a good impression on the girl, the aura that hovered around the sturdy man didn't allow for easy teasing. Gwen, on the other hand, was a girl... In principle, it was enough, because Felicia tried to rape a guy, so the underlying anger and fear was directed only at the creatures of the male species. But aside from all that, Gwen was one of the two creatures Hardy could call friends. Yes. Strangely enough, the beautiful, strong-willed, rich and popular girl had no friends until recently. Lots of mates, crowds of acquaintances, but no one close enough to be called a friend. Except her mum. And then Mum. is Mum.

Turning her head, the girl glanced at her second friend. Peter was concentrating on something, occasionally nibbling the tip of his pen. There was a separate situation with this sensible one. The blonde remembered him when he'd burst through the door, when he'd beaten up Ryan... he'd seemed very scary to her then, and more creepy than even her ex. But at the same time she wanted to hide behind him, even though he was the source of the fear. Then the guy opened up in a whole new way. Pete let himself be pulled. He made funny martyr faces, but he tolerated all the jokes. Felicia realised that almost all the negativity that had settled in her after that unfortunate party, she discharged on this guy. After all, it was he who was there, he took the blow, and just turned the other cheek.... Felicia was glad she had a friend like that. The one who just kept quiet and fed the two unfortunate girls sweets.

No, there was no need to touch him now. You could, of course, but you didn't want to. Strangely enough, Miss Hardy had a conscience, albeit a conscience deep beneath the fur. Sighing sadly, the girl decided to go home. Since there was no one in the laboratory to talk to, and no one to morally load. Near the university, a car with a driver and security guards was waiting for her. She had to make these concessions. After she told her mother about the kidnapping, she simply put her daughter in front of the fact that now she would have to put up with harsh people in black suits and guns under her arm for some time. Mum had tried to impose security guards, a personal driver, and a bunch of servants on her daughter before. Status be damned! But Felicia never tolerated restrictions, the guards were driven by the nose and raised the alarm almost every day. Until Lydia got tired of it, and she didn't call off the guards. In fact, the girl planned to do so now, but for the peace of mum was ready to tolerate control for a few more days. Ha! Her friend was right!

One single word from Peter Parker... as soon as he called her a cat, it was as if a door had opened inside the girl. Now she tried to review her life, and realised with surprise and some joy that she had always had a feline temperament. All the trouble she had caused her mum, all the jokes she had made, and everything she had done, had all been done by the cat inside her. That kitty that her father had raised... Yes... Peter had awakened the main thing, he had awakened her memory of her father. Now Felicia more and more often remembered her childhood, her youngest years, when there was a handsome young man with a mane of black as tar hair. It was he who had first called her daughter kitty cat. But she always knew that he was the real representative of the feline species. And that's why she tried to repeat everything after him. Gait, movements, manner of behaviour, the smile of a cat that had eaten a lot of sour cream. And the happy father, seeing his daughter's endeavours, jokingly taught her all sorts of tricks.

The car stopped near Hardy's country residence. Felicia got out of the cabin, and, still indulging in memories, went to look for her mother. Smooth movements, completely silent, as he had taught, carefully put a foot, do not rustle clothes, muffled breathing, half-closed eyes, falling into a trance, because so much easier to go. In such a state you can slip near a man staring at you so that he will not notice anything. Somewhere in the back of the house a door slammed and the girl woke up.

- Hello, Mum.

Lydia Hardy flinched at the voice behind her back. And her daughter couldn't understand how she had ended up in her mother's study, half the way through she had no memory at all.

- Hello, daughter. - Lydia answered nervously, and smiled sourly. - I didn't see you come in. I've been working too hard. Did you want something?

- It happens. - thoughtfully stretched out her daughter sitting down in the chair. - Yes, I did. Remember, you suggested I take a self-defence course?

- Of course! Did you really decide? - Lydia calmed down a little, and now in her voice already slipped sarcasm. - Usually you never listen to me.

- Why not? I trust your taste, even though I think it's a little conservative, but I always wear the things you bought for me. - The girl resented me.

- At least you inherited something besides hair from me. - muttered the mother quietly.

- Oh!' Felicia suddenly exclaimed, and raised her eyebrows. - Since you yourself have spoken of your father, don't be sorry. Don't you think I'm old enough to know the truth?

- But, dear...' her mother began disconsolately, but was interrupted.

- Stories about father being a pilot and crashing in the jungle and the like are not going to fly now! - pressed the younger Hardy. - I want to know! I...remember him...Mum, please.....

Lydia was silent for a long time, looking at her daughter with blank eyes. It wasn't clear whether she was stalling for time, hoping her daughter would back down, or just didn't make up her mind. Felicia did not want to retreat, not now, not today. So she was prepared to wait forever.

- He was a thief,' Lydia whispered through her lips. - Everything we have is his doing. Everything he stole from others...

Felicia had become the very embodiment of hearing. She listened to the enchanting love story of a thief and an aristocrat, and sang with her soul... she... she was happy, no matter how wild it might seem from the outside, but she was happy. The puzzle was coming together. And the fact that her father turned out to be a famous thief in certain circles did not cause any negativity or rejection at all. On the contrary! Everything was clear and simple now. He was a cat. Which meant that his daughter would inevitably become a cat!

Now Felicia had several goals. After all, how nice to know that your father wasn't dead, that he was still alive. He just can't visit her and pat her on the head. I mean, he's in prison. It's sad, but you can escape from any prison. And she'll definitely help him! If that's the case, there's nothing to delay. The mother's story was long, but now the two women who had stolen the man were silent, thinking about their own things.

- Look at this. - Felicia shook off the obsession and handed her mother a small business card.

- What's this-' Lydia snapped out of her recollection and examined the square of heavy paper.

- I was told that at this address you can get any kind of training you want. And I want it. Please arrange it for me.

- Felicia...' her mother said in astonishment. - But... let me ask you, how can you be so sure that you were told the truth? And who gave you that card in the first place?

- Confidence? A friend recommended it to me. A friend I trust completely. Is something wrong?

- Interesting friends you have...' the woman muttered. - Would you introduce me?

- I don't see a problem. I'll invite them over for dinner sometime. But you seem worried about something, don't you?

- No. I'm just curious. You've made some friends. And apparently not just any friends. You see, daughter, you've been recommended a really good place, but it's only known, of course... but to a very small circle of the initiated. Well, I'm glad you've decided to get smart. And that you've made some good friends. - ignoring her daughter's dismissive snicker, Lydia continued. - I'd definitely like to meet them.

- So you'll help? - The girl asked.

- 'Of course,' the woman assured her.

- Thank you, mum... and for your father too... Okay, I'll go!

Felicia didn't say anything to her mother about the failed rape attempt. It was her business and she would get even with Ryan....

***

Evening of the same day. Parker house.

- Hey! Young man! - An indignant voice snapped me out of my reverie.

- Huh?' I said, and struggled to focus my eyes on Uncle Ben. - I'm sorry, I was thinking.

- He was thinking! - Uncle Ben grumbled angrily. - What took you so long?

- Yes... - I tried to find a decent excuse. How bad it is sometimes to have a good, and sometimes even violent imagination - now in my head at once formed so many versions that at once and can not choose ...

- Did you see the girl home? - Uncle's face immediately took on a snide expression. - You smell like a woman's perfume a mile away! And there's a bad lipstick mark on your cheek. hehehe... - he answered my unspoken question.

Yeah. Well, it was Felicia's perfume. Sprayed me from head to toe. And why did she have to react so violently to my innocent remark that she didn't have to perfume herself so much in the morning? It's a good thing most of that scent has gone away by now....

Well, the lipstick on her cheek. That's Gwen. My, um, girlfriend is quite jealous of Felicia's, um, intimate attempts on my body. To be honest, I didn't know whether to be happy about that or not.....

- Sort of... - I answered my uncle modestly. Sometimes you don't even have to make up an excuse, and someone has already voiced it for you.

- Wash your hands and let's go to the table! - For some reason he exclaimed too cheerfully, and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

Quickly throwing my things into my room, I just as quickly changed my clothes and went to the kitchen too. While I was thoughtfully stuffing my stomach with my aunt's delicious food, I felt the stares of my relatives with every fibre of my being. Yeah... I'm so busted. I never said a word to them about the fact that they were trying to ring me. Oh, man. Now they're gonna be asking me questions.

- ...but our reporters have already spotted a new beau in the company. However, we haven't been able to identify him yet. Surprisingly, this young man has never been--

In complete silence even not loudly working TV was perfectly audible. In fact, my aunt and Uncle Ben and I had barely wrestled the TV in the kitchen away from my aunt. She was very much against our bliss. But we managed to persuade her to put a little box on the fridge. It's a good place to catch a glimpse of the news. Now some horrible red-haired presenter was giving us the news from the boomtown. Some actress has broken up with her basketball player boyfriend and started dating someone else... very important... mm-hmm... though....

- Tony Stark - son of the famous inventor and arms magnate Howard Anthony Stark, head of the industrial giant Stark Industries, and as brilliant an inventor as his father was, is in the spotlight again! In addition to all his bright sides, Stark is no less a notorious troublemaker in the secular world! It's not the first time he's been on the front pages of newspapers and all the news bulletins. Last night Stark crashed a brand new Lamborghini Gallardo STS. One can only wonder, how miraculously this man of fortune managed to get away with only a few abrasions? But even that wasn't the end of his adventures. That same night Tony was seen naked in the pool of a nearby hotel....

Hmm. Tony Stark. Well, that's interesting. In fact, you should periodically keep track of some of the key personalities. So to speak, for general development, m-ma... maybe it will be useful to me somehow, who knows....

Eh, I wish I had some information about someone like Ambal now... Dreams. I never managed to find out for sure who Chameleon and his jolly friend Rocky were working for. I followed the Humvees for a long time, and the bastards were all over town! I even had to change the web cartridges! That's how many kilometres I've done, I can't believe it. But even the worst things have an end. Like this crazy stakeout. The Humvees stopped at an interesting building, and The Rock went into it. Of course, I can't say for sure, because I didn't go inside, but in the cartoon, this building was the headquarters of a crime boss named Fisk. I didn't want to get into the place, which is probably stuffed with various security systems, so I used the Internet to find out that the building is really owned by this businessman. The World Wide Web is a cool thing, especially for a spider, hehe!

- Ufff... - I said, pushing my plate away and rising heavily from the table. After the bite of that evil spider, I had a vicious appetite and could eat for three. - Thank you, auntie! It was delicious! - and sideways, sideways to the exit.

- Piyit... don't you have anything to tell us? - Aunty sang, smiling enigmatically.

- Me? - it never hurts to ask again. - Nope, nothing! - I confessed honestly and frankly, approaching with my back to the saving exit.

Feeling the doorjamb with the back of my head, I tactfully escaped from the interrogation. I ran into my lab and locked the door. Ugh! They won't get me here! I hope so.

It would be a good idea, before running out of the kitchen, to ask relatives about the things and documents left by my parents. It's been a busy day today, and it's not even close to being over. But still, the information Brock had told me had to be sorted out somehow. I didn't feel like going back to my aunt's house, so I'd read the papers Eddie had given me, and then I'd think about it.

Oh.

I didn't realise such a small folder could contain so much information! Honestly! It gave me a headache! Looking at the clock with red eyes, it's half past eleven. Hmm. I haven't finished reading it yet... so why am I distracted? There are a couple of virgin pages in the folder I haven't read yet. My hand reached for the desk... but a sharp knock on the locked door stopped it.

- Pete, open up! - Uncle Ben?

With a sad look at the papers, I went to open the door.

- Come in.

- Nephew, you shouldn't get so carried away after all. - Uncle Ben said, looking me in the eye. - You're so much like Richard.

I wasn't thinking straight after reading, so I just nodded like a dummy. Uncle walked round the laboratory, poked his finger into the microscope. He chuckled, and, carefully moving some rubbish from one table, sat down on the vacated area.

- You know, Mei and I have always been very proud of you. We always tried to bring you up as our own son, but at the same time we didn't even try to replace Richard and Mary (the author himself is shocked 0_0). Because we realised it was useless. Parents cannot be replaced... We just tried to surround you with love and care.

- You succeeded. - I smiled warmly.

Uncle was an interesting conversationalist, and I always enjoyed listening to his stories. Dad's brother wasn't as smart as him. Ben was just wise. In fact, he was more of an influence in shaping my character. There was no one else I'd ever talked to so closely, and no one else I'd ever told my childhood secrets to. Sadly, I hardly knew my father, nor did I know my mother. Sometimes I have dark thoughts, and I realise that if they had stayed alive, I would still be growing up with my aunt and uncle. My parents didn't know how to raise children. They were from a different world, and they weren't interested in anything but science. Not even me.

- Thank you, Peter. - Uncle's face darkened. - Unfortunately, we got too carried away. Me and Mei saw your passion for your studies, we saw how you spent your nights reading books. We saw it, and we were glad... But when we realised that you were hardly interested in anything else but science, it was too late. Your peers were rebelling, they were doing stupid things, they were having relationships and then breaking them off, they were teenagers, they were having a childhood... You were sitting behind the books....

We missed it. We were so proud of you that we didn't realise how we stole such an important piece of your life from you....

For some reason I didn't like this topic of conversation, and I tried to convince my uncle that he was wrong.

- Come on, Uncle! You told me yourself that I'm just like my father in every way. It's only logical that I'm so interested in science. It's not your fault! I didn't mind, and I don't regret my childhood and teenage years.

Uncle smiled sadly.

- You've changed a lot lately. Your behaviour, yourself... At first we were very worried, we didn't know how to react. But then... we just decided to wait, we thought that sometimes it was better to let things go. I guess it's been a little too long and I shouldn't be having this conversation, but... I think we were right this time. You've grown up, you're finally out of the books, you've got a life of your own. I don't know what it is, but I can see it's good for you. Peter... that's what matters most to Mei and me, and I want you to know that.

Getting up from the table, he smiled at me and walked towards the door.

- Uncle. - I called out to him. - I'm sorry. You're right. I have a life of my own, secrets...' I was quiet for a while, gathering my thoughts together. - I used to always share my problems with you. But... to be honest, I'm not ready yet... You always tell me that great power gives birth to responsibility. I remember that phrase, and I never forget it. I want you to know it too.

With a thoughtful nod, Ben left the lab.