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***
Quickly contacting the nearest patrol of cops, I gave them the coordinates of the Thunderbirds. I set off on a long flight through the city.
Gotta get some air.
I can't believe I was actually ready to throw that thug down.
I land on a large high-rise and sit on one of the gargoyles.
And then the flashback with Uncle Ben. I don't understand.
Once again, two things are fighting in me. One is an idealistic heroic message, knowing that killing is wrong and the other is a dark pragmatic realism, saying that only by killing will I make criminals afraid of me.
The point is that even it is multifaceted.
For example, would it be useful to remove famous players like Kingpin or Silvermine from the board? After all, everyone knows that it's better the devil you know. I have at least a theoretical idea of what to expect from such elements, but to kill them?
Back in that life, I didn't think killing was something that would "stain you and your soul forever." There are things for which a person can find it in themselves to take a life and breathe easy afterwards. For example, paedophiles and murderers of children, the elderly and innocent people. If I meet such people in this world, or rather when I meet them on the streets, what will I do?
Like a decent superhero, beat them up and leave them to the cops? And if, God forbid, something like that happens right in front of me?
I need to think about it. Still, even among the spider's enemies, there are some I'd love to send to the grave myself. At the very least, if Morlan comes after me, I'll kill him with great pleasure.
Although mystical threats are one thing. Something has to be decided about the common criminals, my possible enemies.
I hang my head down and stare at my reflection in the glass of the building.
Should.... do I want the costume to be a symbol? Spidey, after all.... well he wasn't a particular favourite with the public, but in the end he inspired a lot of people. Sometimes even his own peers. So what happens if I turn into Punisher 2.0?
No. You have to take a more methodical route here. If there is a need to take someone out, the blood will NOT be on Spider-Man's hands. And if something is going to be personal, we'll see.
- Hello, darling. Great night, isn't it? - my thoughts are interrupted by an enchanting female voice.
And I bet, at this altitude, it can only be one girl.
- Black Cat, - I turn to the thief hovering on the cable, in a tight, almost latex suit.
- I saw you hovering thirty stories above the ground and thought I'd say hello.
- Look, I wanted to apologise.
- Apologise?
- The first time we met, I made a very inappropriate remark, and even though you attacked me first, I'm sorry.
- That's very sweet, Spidey. I was out of line, too. I'm not really some kind of thief-crazed criminal, you could call it... an homage. Don't ask. I bet a guy like you knows what it means to honour someone's memory, doesn't he?
- You have no idea.
We're sitting on the roof of a building, and after a few minutes of silence, Cat jumps up abruptly.
- Okay, tonight's too good a night for moping. How about we go for a little run around the rooftops? Let's get to know each other a little better, what do you say, handsome?
- Lead the way.
With a smile, Felicia jumps onto a neighbouring building, and I follow.
Once again, we jog across the rooftops of New York City, under the light of the moon. Although all this acrobatic movement, I've already reasoned, is more like a dance.
- So, red-blue, checkered all over the suit, huge bug eyes and a spider emblem, huh? Did you design it yourself? - Felicia asks a question as she's jumping.
- I agree, it's not the most original choice, perhaps mottled, but it's my personal design. Besides," I bounce off the flagpole with a wiggle, "I look damn stylish in it.
- No arguments, honey, but you'd look better in black.
- Who knows what I'll be wearing tomorrow?
- You like to change outfits?
- This one's definitely going to be in my top three favourites.
- Your choice," Cat shrugs?
- And your costume?
- I've always loved cats, plus a lot of the elements are also a tribute to the man in whose footsteps I followed.
- So you're the idea successor?
- Bingo. There was a thief, a long time ago, mid-20th century, everyone called him The Cat. He was elusive, a pro at his craft, a true legend," Felicia was silent.
- What happened to him?
Hardy shook her head as if warding off an obsession.
- Last case. He stole hundreds of millions of dollars worth of diamonds and left in the zenith of glory.
- That's a nice story.
- I thought you didn't approve of stealing.
- I was brought up by a man who spent his life earning an honest living, was fair and did not complain about difficulties. Most likely, his example influenced me in such a way.
- It's all from our childhood, right?
- That's right. And yet I can recognise talent. And this Cat was clearly a master of his craft.
Apparently, Felicia's positive assessment of her father's work flattered her.
- So Spidey's not as moralistic as he pretends to be?
- So Cat's not as much of a devil as she wants to be?
- Darling, I can be a very bad girl for you, - Fey answered seductively as always.
- 'Maybe some other time....
- Is something wrong? - Cat asked, becoming more organised in an instant.
- It's been a difficult evening.
- If you need to talk, I'm here for you," Hardy said, putting her hand on my shoulder.
In the almost a year since I got my powers, and in this world in general, I hadn't been able to have a heart-to-heart talk with anyone.
First of all, because I just didn't want to. Another reason was attitude.
It was still difficult to realise that everything around me was real and to get rid of my scepticism about cardboard people.
But that's all changed now.
And why wouldn't it?
I'm not gonna make it any worse by easing my mind.
- You see, I'm at a crossroads, Cat. Six months ago was my first real hero adventure. I was chasing gang leaders, I thought I'd cover the whole world of organised crime. Inevitably, it turned out to be a trap. And a simple fight turned into a massacre. There were casualties. My fault. Miraculously escaped with a few bullet wounds myself.
I must have been really depressed, cos the girl came over and took my hand.
- But you know what the worst part is? I've been choking on anger ever since, and I'm torn about what to do next. Whether or not to take the lives of my enemies.
- You're afraid of your choice, aren't you? Because you've made up your mind a long time ago?
- Maybe I need an outside perspective.
- I'm no saint myself, Spider-Man," Felicia put her arm around her shoulders, "I've had some very unpleasant things happen in my life. In those....situations I could have killed my abusers," Hardy turned to me, flipping her platinum hair, "I'm a thief, but I'm not a killer. I agree, some do deserve to die, but not everyone will be able to live with that choice.
Suddenly Felicia opened up to me from a new side. I thought she'd be more adamant about it.
- Thank you for listening. I needed someone to share it with.
- I was glad to have a heart-to-heart talk, too. You know," Cat walked to the edge of the roof. - There's a great view up here. How about we make this building our place?
- Our place? - I might be blushing a little underneath the mask.
- I don't know if you want to talk again or just go for an evening jog before bed," the girl tried to give her voice a nonchalant tone.
- I'd be happy to include it in the route of my patrols.
- How about another lap, then?
- Let's go!
***
- Oooh," I yawned across the room.
I slept so well. Evening walks do wonders.
I lean back in bed with my arms behind my head. Saturday morning. What should I do today?
I squint at the bedside clock. Six o'clock in the morning. Good old Spidey vigour. Four hours' sleep and I'm good as new. That'll come in handy when I'm a student.
I'm lying there thinking I don't have to go to work. All the projects and tasks for the beginning of the school year were done in June. I'm even already concerned about the university. In the laboratory everything goes on as usual. Several projects are in embryo, so I don't see any point in working on granite. You could, of course...
I'm interrupted by the sound of a notification.
I wonder who's texting this early.
"Morning, Pete. You're probably still asleep, or wondering who's writing this early in the morning.) Anyway, I need to talk to you about something, so when you wake up, write to me."
Harry Osborne.
Busy.
As soon as summer came, our friendship circle broke up for a while. Miles and his family went travelling all summer. George did something similar to cement his relationship with Gwen. Harry, on the other hand, has been stressed out by who do you think? Norman Osborne himself.
I'm sure me and Osborne Junior were equally fucked up.
For Norman himself to get involved with his son and start teaching him something? I'm not sure if there's any version of an altruistic Osborne Sr. So I'm secretly expecting a catch.
Maybe he decided to subject Harry to genetic experiments or something? I have no doubt that the future Gobby realised long ago that the Spider-Man who appeared had something to do with experiments from his lab.
Admittedly, that was the reason I tried to keep my distance. Norman and I still hadn't crossed paths face to face.
So this sudden "matter to be discussed" has the gears in my head turning.
I don't deny it, it's probably just a normal friendly topic. Maybe Harry just wants to hang out? Still, I need to be wary.
"Morning, Gar. I just woke up and was just wondering what to do. So what's the question?"
"Tell you what, pack up and come to my tower. Don't worry about breakfast, it's my treat."
What was he so eager for?
"Got it. I'm on my way, see you later."
After sending the message, I get dressed and look for my rucksack. I put my uniform on the bottom and throw in my suit with throwers. On top of all that stuff, books and junk to blur the eye.
The reason I don't wear a suit under my civilian clothes is banal - the first layer is always scuffed up and scorches the suit. So even in a peak situation, I can quickly don a spider suit when it's in my backpack. So far there have been no instances of this method fatally affecting anything. So I'm just doing what I'm used to.
I move to the bathroom, trying not to wake the family, clean myself up and go downstairs. I leave a note about my absence and leave the house.
I can listen to some music while I get to the Osborne Tower.
***
Queens Centre flights. Even on a Saturday morning, the bus is packed. Maybe I should think about getting my licence.
Anyway, I'm here.
One thing Norman Osborne has going for him is that he demonstrates his superiority by any means necessary. Whether we're talking intelligence, power or wealth, the Goblin will always try to consolidate his power. One day, he may even become president.
All I have to do is tell him Harry Osborne is waiting for me, and I have no problem getting a pass.
The lift goes from the ground floor to the top.
I get out and find myself in an incredibly spacious living room. I could fit three of my rooms in here, no kidding.
- Hi, Pete! - Harry waves to me from the kitchen.
- Hey, Gar," I high-five my friend and tap him on the shoulder. - Did I mention this room is like three of mine?
- Every time you come to visit. Don't be so smug, Pete. At least your house is cosy, with a family around, whereas mine is," Osborne frowned, "but let's not be sad. There's something I wanted to talk to you about," Harry started, inviting him into the kitchen.
- I'm all ears," I sat down at the table.
- You may have heard that a new generation of children's medical clinics is about to open, under the auspices of Ozcorp and the financial influence of Wilson Fisk.
- Yeah, I heard," What's his point?
Harry hands me a portion of cereal, taking a second plate.
- So, I'll be needed at the opening. The official part, then the banquet and all that. I could use a friend's help. You get the invitation, the person with full clearance, what do you say?
- I'd love to, but Bogle's sending me to the same event. Socialite. I'm afraid the society your father wants you to join won't appreciate a journalist with that kind of access on your behalf.
- You didn't tell me.
- I haven't had time yet," I shrugged.
Harry hesitated.
- But you're just a photographer, right?
- Pretty much.
- Then I'm sure there won't be any problems," Harry leaned back in his chair lightly. - So my friend comes in with a camera and takes pictures of different objects and people, what's the big deal? You're not one of those pesky yellow papers, are you?
- That's right, my friend, I'm a journalist, but a very tactful journalist," I put my fist to my chest honestly.
Harry and I start laughing together.
- Anyway, we're still a few months away from the opening, so they'll have time to make it look good. Trust me, Pete, it's gonna be great.
- Yeah, a society of snobby snobs who will look at me like a third-worlder just because I'm not wearing a two-thousand-dollar tuxedo is a dream come true," I say sarcastically.
- It's not that exaggerated.
- I know, Gar, I'm sorry, but it's your world, not mine.
- Again, not an excuse. Believe me, I've seen people in high society who, compared to you, are from a different evolutionary branch.
- Like, not homo sapiens, but homo idioticus?
- Exactly. But there are some very interesting specimens, plus or minus our age. Like my mum's daughter from Europe. They're both involved in charity work and, with Mum's encouragement, Lydia Hardy's company is expanding in America. And her daughter Felicia is coming to "build a beachhead".
Ooh, what exciting news.
- It looks like it's really going to be interesting, Gar," I smirk enigmatically, but Osborne Jr. doesn't seem to care.
Suddenly there was the sound of the lift doors opening.
I cast a questioning glance at Harry, but he just shrugged.
A man I'd seen on posters, TV programmes and newspapers, but never in person, appeared in the doorway.
- Harry, I have to be back in the lab in ten minutes, I've come to get the formula from the office. And who is this young man," Norman casts a thoughtful glance at me.
I try to keep my face calm, but I'm clenching inside. I tense all my senses involuntarily.
Does he know? Could Norman have found out my greatest secret?
- Dad, this is my friend Peter. We used to hang out a lot when we were kids, perhaps you remember?
- Pleased to meet you, Mr Osborne," I calmly extend my hand in greeting.
Norman thinks about it for a while, but then he shakes my hand with confidence.
- That's right! Peter Parker, Richard's son. Oh, yes, I remember. Your father was a great scientist, I'm sorry for your loss.
- Thank you, Mr Osborne.
I don't know why, but his benevolence didn't relax me.
- Please, Mr Osborne was my father, just Norman.
- I'm sorry, my upbringing doesn't allow it, Mr Osborne.
- Oh, I see. You were raised by Richard's brother Ben, weren't you?
- I was.
- I see you've been brought up to be a polite young man. I'm sorry, boys, but I've got to go. See you tonight, son. Peter," Norman said in a much colder tone.
- Wow, you really have a talent for getting people to like you, Pete. First Flash, then my father. Who's next, the president?
- Nothing complicated, just being polite.
- Simple? My father's been that nice to three people in my memory. One of them is my mother.
- Maybe you're right. Maybe you are a talent. - I hum nonchalantly. - So what were you saying about the discovery?