Spider-Man SI

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***

Soon after Thor's departure, the three X-men also went home. Hawkeye had time to have a few words with their leader Cyclops. It is clear that he is probing the ground, on Fury's orders, no other way. Or is he such a proactive bloke himself? Then he's definitely got a plus on his spy karma.

The rest of us have been busy removing debris and searching for survivors. Some of them did more harm than good:

- Bro, it's not my fault, I was just passing by, and this ATM machine exploded! Honest to God! - Deadpool assured me, shamefully hiding his smoking grenade launcher behind his back.

- Are your reflexes out of control?! - I asked tiredly.

- Mm-hmm,' he mooed sadly and shuffled his feet.

- Listen, bro, I have a mission for you. A special and very important one.

I've been frantically running through my options on where to take this psychopath and I can't think of anything better than:

- You know this neighbourhood? Great. So you find the container and blow it up. Somewhere well away from the city, okay?

- Sir, yes, sir,' the ex-mercenary said, chest out.

- But don't even think about pushing a generator to some leftist freak. Not only will I take offence, but half the city could blow up if some smart guy tries to take apart an unstable reactor!

A brazen lie, but a lie for the greater good. That reactor I left on the outskirts of town is stable and shouldn't blow up like that. Ideally. But we had to keep him busy!

- That's a shame, bro,' Poole seemed genuinely upset, 'how could you think a hero like me would do something like that?! And to your mate!

- Sorry, tough day,' I sighed, taking out another dose of painkillers.

The left side of my rib cage at the site of the fracture hurt like hell, and continuing to actively move, jumping and lifting the debris of buildings I only aggravated my situation. What can you do if there's no other way.

- Drugs? - The talkative mercenary asked excitedly, sucking in air through his nostrils.

- Here, - I took the hint and took out the last dose and handed it to the man, - Just get out of here!

- Thank you, author! Now you're my mate too! - Poole yells into the sky.

- What?' I ask him with a frown.

- I wasn't talking to you. Don't worry. All right, I'm off!

The mercenary disappeared over the horizon playing with the syringe like an aeroplane.

After pushing the madness into the back of my mind, I went to look for survivors under the rubble. Again spider sense along with empathy helped a lot in this. Using my abilities, I rushed to save as many people as possible.

The soldiers who had come from nowhere tried to take matters into their own hands, kicking everyone else out, cordoning off the area, and generally getting on my nerves. The matter threatened to turn into a direct confrontation between us and them, but the situation was saved by the timely appearance of Fury. She flashed a sheet of paper in front of their commander and ordered them to leave. Gritting his teeth, he retreated.

But rescue crews arrived at the scene of the fight. Professionals in their business not only significantly accelerated the process of searching for survivors, but also realising that some of the superheroes have superpowers and easily lift concrete debris, they competently organised our work. If before it was mostly only me who was searching purposefully, the others were searching literally by luck, now, with the help of experience and special equipment, everyone was engaged in a well-organised and planned work.

Probably, only now I realised that fighting is not the worst thing. It's much harder and longer to heal. You know, it's always nice to have fun at a party, but few people like to clean up afterwards. In my case the fight with the ice giants flew before my adrenaline-pumped mind like a high-speed train, but the search for survivors stretched out like a slow and old freight train overflowing with smouldering coal.

It was hard on a purely physical level, but it was even harder mentally. It was simply unbearable to find crushed corpses under the rubble or seriously wounded people who had almost no chance to get out.

He was found by a fatigued Luke Cage. His face and right side were all bruised beyond recognition. But my gut was just howling.

Teleporting over to the dark-skinned analogue of Captain America, I gasped. A slightly frayed police captain's badge was attached to the surviving part of his body armour.

- Gwen,' I contacted the girl, forgetting all about conspiracy and the importance of using code names, 'Find me.

The girl appeared near us as quickly as if she had teleported too. She must have sensed something too, because I could feel her fright even before she saw her father's barely alive body.

- Pa...' she started, realising the whole situation, but stopped abruptly. With a shake of her head, she resolutely picked up his body and carefully placed it on a relatively solid piece of concrete and crouched down beside it.

What happened next was something I never expected to see.

The white part of the girl's costume suddenly came to life, floated like heated wax. In an instant, it flowed over Gwen's outstretched arms and onto her father's body.

My temples constricted. There was only one word in my head:

Symbiote! Symbiote! Symbiont!

A delicate palm, clad in black latex-like material, came down on my shoulder. A long black tail wrapped around my right leg.

- 'Calm down,' Felicia said tensely, 'she's treating him, look closely.

On my left hand stood Ghost. The ribbons of her costume also encircled my figure. Are they serious? Or have they also been taken over by symbiotes? Shit!

At that moment I could feel their fear that Cat and Ghost were afraid. Not afraid of Gwen as they should have been. No. They were afraid of me.

Grrr! What the hell is going on here!?

When I touched the emotions of the girl kneeling before her father, I calmed down dramatically.

Gwen was calm and collected. She was doing what she thought was right. Fear was splashing around in her mind, but so deep I could barely feel it. But other than it, her mind was crystal clear of any negative emotions.

- 'Boss! Her symbiote is unintelligent! It's astonishing! There's not even a hint of primitive animal intelligence. Just a set of algorithms!' - C's voice broke through the ringing silence around my mind. I only nodded briefly. And felt something similar myself.

The white substance seemed to be absorbed into Captain Stacey's body, and in five minutes he was half dead, a rosy-cheeked, handsome man, but he never regained consciousness. Gwen looked tired, sitting on her knees she additionally leaned on her hands and breathed heavily. Her costume was now dominated by the colour red. Of the white, what remained was the area near her eyes and a small collar around her neck.

- Take care of them,' I said in a low voice, 'Get them to a hospital or something. You probably know best.

- Spider...' Cat began.

Without waiting for her to continue, I teleported as far away as possible. Actually, it wasn't just the centre that was destroyed. I could have helped somewhere else.

***

A grey-haired man with a moustache and old-fashioned braces over a slightly wrinkled shirt glared at me glumly.

- So, let me ask you how the hell you got my phone number. - he asked.

In my usual superhero costume, I'd look like a goth at the queen's reception in this big, pompous office. So for this meeting, with the help of the Holograph, I dressed up in a stylish dinner jacket, with only a mask on my head and gloves. Some would say that it's like dressing a Goth in a formal outfit, but not washing off his make-up. Maybe that person was right, but personally, I liked my image in the mirror, so whatever.

Putting my foot behind my leg I vaguely answer:

- Well it's not a state secret after all, and it doesn't really matter right now Mr J. Jonah James.

In fact, Felicia got that number easily, and a long time ago. You could have broken into the information tycoon's office for nothing, he's got such good security. But I wanted to make an appointment with a minimum of decorum. I mean, not many people like having a costumed freak break into their house.

- And what does he have, Mr Spider? - The man asked sarcastically.

- Common interests, of course.

- Common interest? Listen Spider, frankly speaking I don't like you. I feel almost extreme dislike for you and the methods you prefer. So I doubt that any of our interests can coincide.

- Only a blind man could miss your attitude towards me, and even then it's doubtful,' I smile. - To be honest, I'm a bit puzzled why your information platforms haven't poured tonnes of shit on me yet. A couple of critical articles in all this time, it's not even serious.

- I'm a professional,' J.J. snapped. - I don't let personal attitudes affect my work!

- I'm sorry, it's rare to find a highly moral journalist.

- Moralists? I'm certainly not one of them, I'm an old-school journalist, that's all.

- But you're running for mayor of our marvellous city. Isn't it because you care about its people?

- Are you out of your mind, boy? Who the hell cares? Isn't it obvious that a man like me wants power, influence and big business? Fame at the end of the day!

- Vanity isn't such a bad quality if it doesn't get in the way of business.

- What do you mean?

- Just that an old-school man won't do anything half-assed. That you'll eventually want to leave New York City's top chair, remembered as one of its best mayors, not as a businessman who got his hands on the trough. If I'm right, you'll be looking out for the welfare of the citizens one way or another, so does it matter what your motives are? Morality or vanity.

There was a menacing silence in the office.

- You have a tongue, I admit it,' he said at last. - Well, let's say we've sorted out my interests, but why do you need the well-being of the townspeople? Why do you need to dress up in that stupid costume and be a hero?

- Vanity,' I shrug. - I want to go down in history as an outstanding person, too. And then there's the spider's predatory instincts. You know, I consider this whole town my hunting ground. My domain. It makes me feel good to know that I'm the biggest spider in this jar.

JJ hummed vaguely, so I couldn't tell if he bought what I was saying.

- A predator needs sacrifices like a hero needs feats, right?

- I see where you're going with this. You're partly right. But no, I'm not gonna purposely flood the city streets with villains for a showdown. This crazy world is full of freaks and threats from unexpected places. I don't think I'll be short on competition.

- All right, I'll pretend I believe you. But let's get to the point. Why do you need the help of a possible, underlined only possible future mayor?

- Don't belittle yourself and your campaign team, I'm sure you can do it, otherwise I'd be sitting in this chair.

Well, this journo really went into the race with a great team in tow. He's a solid man in the prime of his life, so to speak. I remember that in that past life there was some mention of a comic-book Jay Jonah becoming mayor of New York. But I did not rely on such shaky knowledge and still consulted Lydia Hardy on the matter yesterday. I was still a little pissed at her little girl, so I had to contact her older counterpart. Although still on a tropical honeymoon, Lydia was still keeping a close eye on the situation in her favourite city. You know, just because a lioness has left the hunting grounds doesn't mean anything.

Lydia, catching the gist of my modest question, immediately confirmed that, in her opinion, the news magnate had an overwhelming chance of success in his audacious political bid. His launching pad was too convenient. Whatever he said, but by manipulating the opinion of the vast population of the Big Apple, he could not only become mayor, but president. But what's there... Emperor!

- To business, Spider, to business.

He pisses me off!

I don't know why, but he pisses me off! Maybe it's the proverbial fate. That he and I are destined to be enemies? No, that's ridiculous. I remember Peter Parker never disliked the unreasonably prejudiced old Jay. So it's just me. Still, I have to thank the unknowing well-wishers that the Johnson analogue here is a pretty sane bloke. He and I may be two poles, but we're still the same magnet. So we'll get along.

- You're right that I need opponents for my goals, but you're missing the point that I also need to be able to deal with them perfectly. No civilian deaths, no major destruction of city infrastructure. Otherwise, I could be accused of failing in my self-imposed responsibilities. The recent incident has clearly shown that neither I, nor the handful of people loyal to me, are capable of handling such a large-scale invasion.

- The NYPD is already completely loyal to you. You're working with a government intelligence agency. How can a simple mayor help you?

- At the very least, it's fine if he stays out of the way. But I think if there's a dialogue between us, we'll understand each other better and not get in each other's way. That's why I'm here.

- My loyalty is not easy to gain, especially with such general phrases,' the man grumbled. - Is there anything more concrete? I need a plan, not an outline. Either give me what I need or get out of here. Don't waste my time!

Calm down, just calm down.

- There is a plan, I assure him. - But I'm not gonna trust it to anyone but the mayor. But I'll make a few points if you want me to. And here's the first of them.

From beneath the holographic illusion of my dinner jacket sleeve, a small robot spider crawled out. It was a little smaller than the palm of my hand, and it was painted the trademark red colour. Well, not a screaming red, but a very dark and matte shade of it. In general, everything was done so that the robot was inconspicuous, but at the same time remained recognisable, and so that any random resident of the Big Apple would recognise me in it.

The robot wiggled its face and jumped from my hand onto Jay's desk.

- What's this? - The man remained calm and showed almost no reaction to the robotic spider.

- Spidey-bot,' I answered somewhat frustrated, still expecting him to be at least a little scared. - A miniature, rudimentary robot whose sole purpose is surveillance.

- Are you saying these are your spies?

- Pfft, of course not! If I wanted to make spies like that for myself, I certainly wouldn't have put them in spider form! I'm talking about a parallel video surveillance system! The city streets are filled with thousands of video cameras, and that's a good thing. The police and other agencies are watching. But fixed cameras are bad because everyone knows where they are, and not many drug dealers would risk pushing product under a pole with little girls like that.

- I got it. Duplicate system. You flood the streets with little snitches, you know what's going on and where it's going on. I think I'd approve of that, but only if the police have access to your video bank.

- Unfortunately, it would take a fortune to completely fill the streets of our city with bots. So my spiders will see a lot, but not everything. As for the police, we'll team up with them.

- What else? - Jay pulled a Cuban cigarette out of a small wooden chest and lit it. What a bastard! You could have offered me one! Not that I said yes, but the fact of it!

- Air defence. I know the military covers us all to some extent, but I want to create another layer of security. Cheap and surly installations on the roofs of selected skyscrapers that can shoot down a stray missile, a terrorist hijacked plane, or a cthulhu that suddenly emerges from a portal above the city.

- Missile launchers right inside a peaceful city? - The man frowned, letting out a cloud of smoke.

- Wake up, James. You saw for yourself yesterday how quickly New York turned from a 'peaceful city' into a front line! We must be prepared for any danger, no matter what. We have to be ready to respond appropriately. So yes rocket launchers! Well, or not exactly rocket, - a little calmer I add. - On this issue, I am now actively cooperating with Mr Stark, well, that Iron Man. We're still thinking about what would be the most efficient way to use it in this case.

Jonah was silent for a few minutes, apparently considering what he had heard.

- Good,' he finally agreed. - But we will discuss this case later. Finish me off with some more plan and that's it for today. I'll have a lot to think about and weigh up again.

- Easy. Yesterday, my friends and I somehow other superheroes or ordinary police officers showed that we can stand up for the city and fight to the last man for our common future. Unfortunately, even with our combined forces, we were too few. So I'm planning to create something... well, I guess to put it in a nutshell, it's a private army.

- A private military company? - he asked, almost syllabically.

- Yes.

- Under your personal control?

- Yeah.

- The costumed, murky anonymous guy?

- That's right.

- Oh, for fuck's sake! - Jay swore.

Jumping up from his chair, he paced nervously around the office, swearing at me, my kind, and the new generation in general. I didn't even take offence. In his performance swearing was a real filigree art! He swore so heartfelt, as if a poet ill with a strong muse. He drew a maternal canvas so skilfully as if he were an abstractionist painter who had just been beaten on the head with a club.

Well, I'd listen and listen!

And with PMCs, I've had a plan for a long time. Well, let the army - it's too loud a word, but a small detachment of a hundred people I would not refuse to have. Actually, I already had candidates. There was only one candidate, but I was more than sure that if Shark agreed, he'd be able to persuade the others who were interested.

I'd had a brief but solid conversation with my former hand-to-hand combat mentor just this early morning. He had agreed to take a job with me in my profile without further ado.

- 'Well, at least I'll have a couple more years,' he told me, 'and then I'll retire.'

With a cryptic snicker, I handed him an auto-injection syringe with recycled super soldier serum. It was some analogue of what I'd injected Uncle Ben and Aunt May with. It only increased physical performance by about a factor of one and a half, if not worse. But for all my relatives I made an individual preparation that perfectly affected their particular organism. Here was also made a mass analogue of the serum, on some it will act better, on others worse. Undoubtedly, everything will go in plus, but conditionally speaking one person will get plus five units of strength, and the other all ten.

And in general, the main emphasis was placed on rejuvenation of the organism and on regeneration, not on the addition to physical parameters. After all, my main target audience was people like Shark. I mean, people with excellent military training, but over fifty years old or so. Those who had not yet learnt how to hold a machine gun properly, but whose worn-out body could hardly do the marches that were easy for a young man. The serum helped them lose a few years and get a little stronger. I think the time given to these desperate daredevils, who can't even be stopped by old age, will be enough to raise a new generation of warriors to replace themselves and serve me, hehe.

But that's not all.

In addition to the serum, I plan to start production of cybernetic prosthetics soon. I had everything I needed to make cyborgs tomorrow. The technology was being developed with Dr Octavius and Stark. The latter was wildly fascinated by the idea of making prosthetic limbs for those who had lost limbs. In fact, it was a niche that he could fill for his company, while making a real step in the direction of moving from arms magnate to peaceful philanthropist and patron of the arts.

I, of course, was more interested in the combat analogues of prosthetics, you know, plasma cannons built right into the metal arm. But at first I was happy with the same peaceful prosthetics. I think a lot of Shark's colleagues would be willing to join my semi-legal military formation for them. It's a double benefit for me, volunteers and test subjects in one! That's it, ahah!

What the hell am I thinking...

Probably just can't allow myself to get sour or even mentally process the tensions between me and Gwen Stacey yesterday. I was still wildly hurt that my girlfriend had spent so much time hiding the potentially terribly dangerous monster that had taken up residence in her body from me!

I'd been working all night, making a detailed plan to protect New York from future threats, contacting Lydia Hardy, and setting up meetings with Shark and Jason, finalising the serum formula. All just to keep his mind off Gwen and the whole situation.

Of course, I couldn't worry about her at all, either. But a brief conversation with Connors calmed me down a bit. Doc told me that he'd been monitoring the girl's condition since she'd discovered the symbiote in herself. That both calmed me down and pissed me off. You could have told me!

Okay, Spidey. Calm down, just calm down. Breathe evenly, and not too deep, because my ribs still haven't healed.

Jonah finally calmed down. He sat down at the table and took a new cigar out of the box.

- I should have guessed something like this before,' he said glumly. - Not just a costumed loner, but a whole well-organised gang. The Initiative's motherfucking Avengers!

- Excuse me? - I give in.

- Don't you read the papers? - surprised mustachioed.

- Yes somehow not to it...

- Really? You don't surf the Internet?

- I haven't had time...

- Huh,' Jonah grinned, 'One of my guys managed to take a picture of you shaking hands with that jock with the hammer and the red cape yesterday. You, and all those freaks who gathered behind you at that moment, were dubbed 'The Avengers' by government officials.

Oh, holy centre heel of Deadpool, I think one lady wants to get a patch for her other eye after all. One give me strength! Although... he's from that fetish club too, isn't he?