Spider-Man SI

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***

Ten days after the battle for New York. Stark Tower.

The coffee was bitter.

I don't like bitter coffee. If you put more sugar in it and dilute it with milk, or better yet, condensed milk. Mmm. Delicious.

Another sip of disgusting coffee brought me back to sinful earth and made me look round the audience of the big conference hall with a slightly cloudy look. People were slowly gathering. More than half of them were already in their seats, and another quarter were chatting among themselves in small interest groups. There was only a little more to wait. Literally a couple or three influential people in the Big Apple and we could get started.

To tell you the truth, I wasn't even nervous. So what if I'm speaking in front of the cream of the crop? First time? Hmm, well, maybe not at this level, but I've had a lot of practice with Professor Connors' students. They've got more teeth and attitude than these business sharks. Students are sharks too, but they're young and hungry. And those who are sitting in front of me now are fat and aged fish whose teeth are not all their own. It's not always easy for them to bite.

Finally, everyone who needed to be gathered, and the redhead dressed, it would seem, in a simple strict outfit consisting of a light blouse and a strict black skirt, Pepper Potts came to the podium and stood in front of the microphone. She was a total charmer. Although her face expressed only the usual polite smile, but in her heart she almost sang. Probably, the attention that she has recently paid to her husband. Well, you don't have to thank me. I had nothing to do with it.

Well, almost.

It's not hard for me to give this 'philanthropist' the occasional nudge in the right direction. It's good for him. There are more ideas in his head, though not always scientific, but Mr Stark's productivity has increased by an order of magnitude. And what's the most important thing in work? The ability to rest.

Eh, at least they're doing well in their relationship.

- Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to welcome you to our humble meeting, - said the redhead, flashing an expensive necklace around her neck.

I wonder if any of them is choking on a red caviar sandwich right now? Apparently not. That's a shame.

- I hope you have had an excellent morning and are in good spirits, because today we are gathered on a rather important topic, and I would like you to give your full attention to the stage. I won't bore you with any more long speeches and will just introduce you to the person who will be performing in front of you today. Meet the rising star of scientific thought, Peter Parker.

Normally, the occasional clapping would have hurt my ego, but there was just the right amount of loud music playing in the auditorium. The spotlights hit my humble figure as I approached the microphone.

- Thank you, Pepper,' I said after the girl, and turned to the audience. - First of all, let me welcome you and offer my condolences. I know that many of you came here hoping that Mr Stark would take my place. But as you can see, he's busy eating a burger right now, and I've been given the honour of speaking to you.

I wanted to add 'bastard' at the end, but no-one would have understood the frivolity.

On the screen behind me for a moment, the camera showed a close-up of a smiling Tony Stark. He was dressed in a perfect super-expensive suit, sunglasses, and was holding an overbite of hamburger in one hand. Amazingly, even in this situation, he managed to dazzle all the women in the room with a perfect white smile. It's some kind of fucking innate playboy talent!

- I think most of you can already guess what we're here for. We live in the same city, and we all saw what New York was like ten days ago. It was as if a small local war had broken out on its streets, with all the attendant damage, both human and infrastructural. The Big Apple was unprepared for something like this. The aftermath of the ice giants' invasion will probably take a long time to clean up. Homes destroyed, roads torn up, cars torn to shreds, it's a sad sight. The city is practically paralysed, as if after a massive earthquake. Heroes and rescuers were day and night clearing the rubble in search of survivors. Needless to say, they're still at it. It's been ten days. The work is too slow, the wounds too great for the city to be able to heal quickly. Mr Stark in particular has been doing his best to help, but he's just one man in an iron suit. And that's when I thought, what if there were more people like that? How fast would New York City recover if a few dozen people in suits like this were involved in its healing? Hundreds of people?

There was silence in the room, and I studied the audience carefully to see if they were listening. Judging by the almost complete silence, they were indeed interested.

- But my suits are too expensive to manufacture,' Stark said. In the silence, even without a microphone, his voice was audible to everyone. - These are individual, one-off pieces. I couldn't mass-produce them because of the simple lack of funding.

This was far from the only and not the biggest reason why Stark initially took my proposal in the bayonet. But more on that later.

- It's true, Mr Stark's toys are too expensive for him to let anyone else play with them. But there's always cheaper options, right? I had the same thought, so I tried to keep it as cheap as possible. Throw this out, remove this, change this, change that. You've already seen the experimental fruits of our combined endeavours on the streets of the city. But let me officially introduce you to the project 'Architect'!

Solemn music played in the hall, the spotlights focused on the panoramic window that opened apart and a human figure immediately flew in. A rather massive costume made very close to the style of the 'Mark' series. Of the cardinal external differences could be called only two things: the colouring and the design of the helmet. I didn't want to transfer Iron Man's trademark grin to a peaceful series of suits.

The colouring was a dark yellow base and stripes of green fluorescent paint. As close as possible to firefighter costumes, so that people would immediately have the right associations. This was a representative of the emergency services, not a warrior or even a peacemaker. And people should have realised that immediately.

The pilot walked across the stage, showing off his futuristic outfit. He was clearly high on what was happening. I could feel his emotions. But I couldn't understand what he was getting off on. The fact that he was performing in front of such an audience, or because he was dressed for the future.

Giving the tall audience a chance to see the Architect in detail. I began to brief them as briefly as possible on his characteristics. To be honest, this suit is like a rusty old Zaporozhets and a hand-built collector sports car compared to Mark. Make up your own brand. To your liking.

I'm exaggerating, though.

The Architect has been stripped of everything superfluous in material terms, but programme-wise it matches Stark's basic suits. It may have had its outer covering replaced with plastic almost everywhere, but it's the damn toughest plastic in the world! I just wouldn't want the pilot to get run over by some plate. And everything else in that vein.

- Mr um... Parker,' said J. Jonah Jones when I was done. - Let me ask you a question.

- Please.

- This is all wonderful. Your efforts are commendable and all, but wouldn't this be a case of good intentions paving the road to hell? Tony Stark's suits are weapons, no matter what anyone says, what happens if they fall into the wrong hands?

Yeah. I knew the future mayor would get on my nerves.

- You know, I'm not gonna say this will never happen. Not in our crazy world. But we have done and are doing everything we can to make sure it doesn't. For example, all the pilots' actions are monitored, and if one of them turns off his route to eat a hot dog round the corner the operator will know about it. And if he realises that the pilot is not going to the nearest fast food, he will simply switch off the suit. Remote control is provided, control can be intercepted at any time from the control panel. Actually, we didn't start making robots, but settled on suits, in particular for such dual control.

I probably won't tell them about Jarvis. It's too early for humanity to know about AI. Stark's personal artificial butler monitors the pilots remotely. But he doesn't have the resources to control them himself. He's got enough on his plate.

Now, having mentioned that this could all be automated, but we didn't. I was hoping to get them to think that we as developers care about saving jobs. And people don't have to worry about being replaced by robots.

- And we've looked at the problem from a different angle. We've tried to make the Architect less interesting to all sorts of nefarious individuals. Its armour can't withstand a tank shell, or even a few machine gun rounds. The pilot's personal protection certainly has a place, but it corresponds to the third standard of protection according to the classification of the National Institute of Justice, no more. Its conventionally combat capabilities are also significantly reduced. Perhaps most importantly, the Architect is not equipped with a cold fusion reactor. It has a different fuel system, which I will not mention. What I can tell you is that the cells that power the suit have a finite and rather small energy reserve. To put it simply, you can't buy batteries for it in any supermarket, nor can you charge it from the mains.

When developing the Architect, I tried to make it as difficult as possible for any criminal elements and supervillains that would definitely try to hack or kidnap it. I'm concentrating more on the latter since Jarvis can handle the former. Well, I certainly hope so. If he fails, I have notes on a parallel cybernetic security system.

As for the scenario where the suit is brazenly stolen and attempted to be physically hacked. I've given it my best shot. The energy-replacement batteries I've already mentioned are just the tip of the iceberg. At the bottom of the iceberg was the self-destruct system. Oh, no, no! There will be no huge explosion that will kill the pilot and the nearest bandits! We're civilised people, we wouldn't do that. Just if some villain manages to hide the suit from all the tracking systems that are installed in it and loses all communication with Jarvis, the automation will go off, and all the high-tech electronics, all the important systems and nodes, all this goodness that is in fact the main value of the Architect will burn to hell.

That's the pie.

After answering a couple more questions about the technical part, I gave way to Stark's assistant, as the next questions were more about the organisational component. I could have answered them myself, but my fists were really starting to itch at the sight of those glossy faces. And why do I only hate so much all these rich people and leaders of destinies?

I watched the end of the circus from Stark's office. To be honest, it didn't make much difference. Jarvis was broadcasting the whole thing for me. With the replay technology he had, I was there in person. Where's a surround cinema going to go?!

I wanted to give up and go flying on the web. Or just fly. But this meeting was important. It was crucial for me to have the support of these people. Frankly, I could have done without. Stark had more than enough resources to build a batch of these suits and put them on the streets. Even the pilots weren't a problem. There were plenty of Shark people who wanted one of these outfits. But I didn't want to limit myself to New York, I didn't want to outlaw this initiative. I believed there would be plenty of incidents like New York in the future. So I needed a tool to deal with the consequences of fights between heroes and villains. It came to fruition in the Architect, almost spontaneously, but nonetheless.

Now I needed the powers that be to support my initiative. To get the costumes approved and legitimised. That way I could not just make them for my own needs and to equip my web-hut, but to enter the global American and then the world market. Sell Architects to the authorities, make a buck, but at the same time lead the world into the future.

I don't know how it is in the comics, but I didn't want to have all the high tech just for myself. Personally, I didn't mind sharing some of it with the world. Even though I didn't have that kind of determination a fortnight ago. But then I hadn't faced such large-scale battles and more horrible consequences. Now everything has changed. I wouldn't say that my worldview has changed dramatically, but it's been shaken up.

I realised that I can live not only for myself, and not even for my loved ones. I can give something to the world as a whole. With such opportunities, do I have the right to miss them? Even though it is a huge responsibility, and inside I am gnawing fear that my initiative will eventually get out of control and things will get worse, but....

I once heard it said that indifferent people are the worst people in our society. Worse than any villains. I don't want to be like that.

At least I'll try.

I have to say, we had a decent chance. Well, at least at getting the first step of my plan off the ground. I think I had more trouble convincing Stark of my idea than setting up and directing this meeting. Yes, yes, you heard me. It was all planned. The front rows were filled with people already loyal to me, except for Jameson. And he'd been spoken to beforehand. The police, firemen, even the paramedics were there to support me. The Lydia Hardy Foundation and its close partners were already on my side. Not to mention even the Avengers were in solidarity with me. Next to Tony Stark munching on a hamburger, on one side sat Captain America, smiling at the camera, and on the other side sat Spider-Man with his foot on his leg. Or rather, the Spider-Man suit under C's control, but that's the specifics. There were a whole bunch of other people who had been pre-tuned and convinced by my high-ranking friends.

There was no need to worry.

But I did.

And the reason for that was more than substantial.

Among all those present, somehow there were people I was not expecting at all. Namely, an actual mutant delegation. Professor X was leading it himself. Fucking telepaths. Worse than all the rich people put together.

Despite the misgivings, the meeting went well. In fact, today we just showed everyone our baby, or rather, not so much. The architect has been testing and working in the city for a few days now. We have officially presented it, and publicly stated our intentions. Now we just have to wait for the right amount of time, let everyone realise the new horizons, wait for the authorities to be ready for cooperation and actually start it.

The event was finally over, and the local elite began to sprawl into their Burrows. And I was obviously in for a tough conversation. There was a bald guy in a wheelchair right in front of the Spiderman costume. Okay, I take control from C, and say goodbye to Stark and Cap. You gotta face your enemies with courage. Face them, not hide behind your friends.

- Spider-Man,' he smiled at each of us. - I'm glad I got to meet you at this meeting.

- Frankly, I can't say the same, Mr Xavier.

The not-yet-young man raised an eyebrow slightly, and then another one went up.

- Oh, so I'm communicating with a robot,' he wondered sincerely, or had he really just checked. - Or rather, with a suit that looks like this Architect.

- That's exactly why I'm glad to see you,' the synthesised voice repeated after me.

- I'm sorry, I don't quite understand,' he frowned.

- Well, what is there to understand? You impudently and unceremoniously got into my head, without any concern for confidentiality or the banal human right to privacy of thought.

Professor X, smiled kindly and said:

- When I studied jurisprudence somehow, I did not find anything there to guarantee a person's right to privacy of thought.

- I don't like our laws in many ways either. They're a little outdated. And you haven't reassured me one bit with your words.

- I apologise,' he said with a wave of his hands. - I didn't expect our conversation to turn out this way, so I let myself go too far with my words.

- Just words? - I snorted and folded my suit arms across his chest.

- You're a witty young man. I understand your wariness of my abilities, but you must realise that they are part of me. You can't cut off a man's arm and consider him complete.

- There's no need to pity me. I am well aware of your ability to control yourself. Perhaps I'm a bit biased, but I don't think I should be grateful to you just because you haven't tried to take over the world by stealth yet. Even just getting inside the head of the person you're talking to pisses me off.

- Don't we all use our unique abilities to our advantage? How would you behave if you could read other people's minds?

- I don't have such powers, so my answer is irrelevant because it can't claim to be true.

- You're just afraid, aren't you? - The old man, unable to read my mind, seems to have shown miracles of deduction and cleverness for once. Well, that's a good thing for him, cos he's not a lost cause. - Afraid of telepaths, what we're capable of.

- Hmm, it's silly to hide,' I said with my hands folded.

The schemer has a point. If I had his powers, I'd probably lose all my bearings, and most of Earth's heroes and villains would be walking at attention in front of me by now. I would have rewritten everyone's brains with bookmarks, like the laws of robotics voiced by the well-known science fiction writer Isaac Asimov. Let's not be radical, but I would reduce the crime rate, if not to zero, but to indicators not much higher.

- But why? Possessing superhuman abilities you should treat other mutants with understanding, - as if convincing more himself he said.

- Not all mutants are the same, not all are united, and not all are willing to share your philosophy. Magneto's example should have taught you that, shouldn't it?

Xavier perked up.

- You show remarkable awareness.

- Everyone has their secrets. But I don't poke around in your head, don't be afraid. You'd notice if I were.

- I suppose I would,' he said uncertainly. - Unless you're a stronger telepath.

- I've never noticed anything like that before,' I admitted honestly. - And, to my knowledge, there are only a handful of such people in our world.

I glanced at the professor's red-haired student. Jean Grey was talking to the blonde Thunderstorm a little further away from us.

- I think we're getting off topic here,' he said gravely, visibly slumped and obviously following my gaze. I felt a pang of guilt for a moment, but I pulled myself together quickly.

- I don't think it's even been lifted yet. You still haven't told me what you're here for, - yes, yes, tell me and go to your institute.

- Oh, that. Actually, there are several reasons. The first one we were just discussing. I just wanted to see such an active mutant. There's been a lot of buzz around you lately. You're a leader who's slowly building up a strong and diverse group of like-minded individuals. Since you know so much about me, you must have some idea of my values and aspirations. I wish only peace and prosperity for all mankind, regardless of whether it is a mutant or an ordinary person. But I don't know your goals.

- Do my actions not speak for me?

- Undoubtedly, but they may be a deception, or they may hide the true causality behind them. Face-to-face conversation is a much better way to understand the other person.

- Conversation with parallel mind-reading,' I snort.

- Anyway, I genuinely just want to know what motivates the hero called Spider-Man. Nothing more, I swear.

After I swallowed another barb, I took a deep breath and calmed down. I didn't want to go off on a tangent and make a new, stronger enemy out of nothing. The old man's methods may be unpleasant to me, but he seems to really want the best for our blue ball. I couldn't see emotion from a distance, but Jarvis's software perfectly analysed the telepath's face, and claimed he was ninety-five percent sincere.

Let's believe it.

For once.

- All right, fine. I'll try to answer your question as honestly as I can. And now you're gonna have to take my word for it. Unless you're a long-distance mind reader, and you're in my head right now learning my deepest secrets.

- It's hypothetically possible. But I assure you, I don't do that. I'm just warning you, as a gesture of goodwill, and so to speak, to consider extra security measures.

- Mighty Squirrel Girl,' I exclaimed, and again took some time to calm down. Fucking telepaths! - I'll be sure to take it, you bet I will! I'm gonna go to Magneto's and steal his fucking helmet. Just to be sure!

- Oh, you'd be doing me a great favour. But I don't recommend it. Eric has a temper and sometimes he doesn't know when to stop. I wouldn't want you to get hurt. Especially in those suits, you're an easy target for him. It's like a candy bar wrapped in a nice metal wrapper.

- That's a good analogy. Thank you. I'm already relieved.

- You're welcome.

- Hmm, so what are my intentions? They're simple, and they don't contradict yours.

Briefly, but as honestly and convincingly as possible, I have endeavoured to express my worldview. I had been thinking about it recently, and the necessary thoughts easily formed into words. In essence, he and I were similar, striving for the same. But, unlike me, he seemed to be afraid to make decisive steps. Instead, he put all the responsibility on his students. That's the idea. No, I've decided to build my own school for mutants, I'm also looking to the future, but I don't put everything on it. If you're not willing to do something specific, how can you pass that quality on to your students? It's nonsense!

- I'm glad we've found common ground,' the bald man smiled. - And also that the world won't become another radical madman.

- I'm still not thrilled with your company. Why don't we shake hands and part ways?

- One last quick question I'd like to discuss. It concerns a certain teacher of mine and your ward. They didn't get a chance to socialise as scheduled, some unforeseen circumstances that required Wolverine's attention. But now he's back, and he's in a bit of a pickle.

That's it. Right, I remember he and Laura had an appointment, but instead of that smoker, Thunderstorm flew in for a meeting. After a quick chat, the telepath and I sorted out a new meeting date, and finally said goodbye. Good thing the meeting was over. The bad thing was that now I'd have to take a whole bunch of tests to see if my psyche had changed after that dangerous conversation. It's a little precautionary, but it's something.

Meet m-mother.