I’m Not Becoming Spider-Man - Chapter 79: The Mechanical Octopus (Patreon)

Peter went back to the apartment and finished setting everything up for the girls' band's celebration. Then he headed downstairs. After all, what business did he have crashing their party?

Renovations were in full swing on the ground floor, where Quentina and Harley were arguing over the layout of the shop.

"A display case would look best here. Customers would see it as soon as they walked in."

"No, no, I think we should put up a poster. Oh, Peter! What do you think should go here?"

"The cash register," Peter answered. "You're making progress this quickly?"

"Of course!" Harley said. "Renovating is easy. We should be ready to open the day after tomorrow. The comics are already printed and stacked in the back. I'll get you a copy."

"And Peter, how about a signing event?" Quentina suggested. "I've seen all the famous authors do them."

"I'll pass. I've got more than enough to do, and I still have to go to Oscorp Tower for my internship later." Peter looked around. "Seriously, though, you should stock some other magazines and newspapers. The shop needs more than just our comics."

"We will, we will. That's easy enough to arrange. I'll take care of it tomorrow," Quentina said. "But The New Batman is our flagship title, isn't it?"

"The day after tomorrow, huh? I still think you should prepare yourselves for the business to die before it even gets started."

Starting a company wasn't simple, especially when the founders were a bunch of kids and one unemployed adult. Harley wasn't even willing to accept help from her mother.

Peter thought she ought to take it. That would at least spare them some trouble during the startup phase, and Norma had an entire professional management team. They were bound to know more about running a business than Harley did.

Then again, Harley had money to burn. If she wanted to play at running a company, who was going to stop her?

"Come to think of it, we're supposed to be in the newspaper business, right?" Peter asked. "So is our newspaper ready?"

"Ah..." Quentina pressed a hand to her forehead.

"I knew it." Peter sighed. They spent all day dreaming about expanding into some great publishing empire without giving a thought to what they were actually going to sell.

"What's wrong?" Harley emerged from the back carrying a freshly printed copy of The New Batman. The comic, reproduced from Peter's original artwork, looked impressively polished.

"I'm saying that if we're calling ourselves Parker Press, we ought to have an actual newspaper. Have either of you thought about what goes in it?"

Thud!

The comic slipped from Harley's hands and landed on the floor.

Both women broke into a sweat.

"Okay, okay." Peter took a deep breath. "Think. What's the hottest story in town right now?"

Quentina's hand shot up. "Spider-Woman, the superhero, battles an evil giant lizard!"

"Then that's our lead story. Add some other news, a few miscellaneous articles, and some comics."

"That sounds great, but Spider-Woman comes and goes without a trace," Quentina pointed out. "Do we have any exclusive information worth printing?"

"We do." Peter pulled his camera from his backpack. "Exclusive photographs, taken from up close."

"Oh, right, I remember when you took those!" Harley scratched her head. "But, uh, will Spider-Woman be okay with it? What if she comes looking for us?"

"I'll ask her later. Maybe we can pay her a licensing fee." Gwen had gotten so strapped for cash recently that she'd borrowed money from him, so there was no way she'd refuse. "Besides, I seriously doubt the Daily Bugle pays Spider-Woman royalties."

"Perfect! The Daily Bugle has been smearing her, hasn't it? Then we'll publish stories that go against theirs!" Quentina said enthusiastically. She always followed news about superheroes.

She adored the thought of swinging between buildings like Spider-Woman. Imagine being a superhero and making the front page every day! How cool would that be?

And the Daily Bugle kept declaring that Spider-Woman was some terrible threat. How awful!

"Fine, that takes care of the content for now. Next question," Peter said. "Have you arranged any distributors?"

"Uh..."

"Please don't tell me you think we can just put newspapers outside our store and a crowd will magically show up to buy them!" Peter grabbed his head. "Good grief. Postpone the opening. All of us need to set aside some time to visit newsstands across New York and pitch the paper to them one by one. Got it?"

"All right..."

Peter had known the team was a makeshift operation, but this was ridiculous. And their only adult, Quentina, had never even worked in publishing.

"I'll make time to come up with another superhero comic," Peter said, a new idea already taking shape.

He was thinking of doing Superman. Batman still had plenty of stories worth exploring, but Superman might give them an opening to work with the Daily Bugle and borrow some of its reach. Right now, Parker Press was a nobody.

Of course, whether the Bugle would agree was another question. Their previous negotiations had fallen apart, and starting a publishing company of their own made them direct competitors.

"And the first issue itself is a serious problem," Peter continued. "We need to plan the layout and the stories properly."

"Didn't we already put together a school newspaper?"

"You mean the one that needed teen comics and a pretty blonde girl to boost sales? Come on, Harley. This is a real business." Peter looked thoroughly exasperated. "Let's hold a meeting tonight. Get Gwen and Thompson involved. I've got to go to Oscorp Tower now, so in the meantime, stop dreaming about opening the day after tomorrow."

As Peter left, Quentina glanced at Harley. "Come to think of it, hasn't Peter always been the one who said this business wouldn't work?"

Harley shrugged. "Well, Quentina, change of plans! First, let's figure out what we're going to put in the very first issue of the Parker Daily."

...

Peter hadn't expected the situation to spiral like this. A small company just didn't have enough people, and he could already see himself being worked to death.

Was there a single normal person among his business partners?

He had at least expected Quentina to be more mature. How had she spent only a few days around Harley and already caught the same obsession with grand plans?

Then there were the things that had happened over the last two days.

The Vulture.

Apparently, he'd attacked a transport convoy the previous night. Rumor had it the vehicles were carrying mysterious cargo from Oscorp to the military. The official explanation was that it was nothing more than medical supplies, but that hadn't stopped people from imagining all kinds of secrets.

Spider-Woman had appeared at the scene, too. She was already the city's biggest sensation. Seeing a Hollywood-style battle between a superhero and a monster happen in real life was startling enough, and the press now examined everything connected with her under a magnifying glass, whether it was a gang fight or a mugging on the street.

The Daily Bugle, for instance, had been raking in attention by condemning her as a hypocrite day after day.

So when the convoy was attacked, reporters descended on the scene with cameras and microphones. That was the last thing anyone running a covert operation wanted: publicity.

Worse, one of the vehicles had gone missing.

The Daily Bugle had seized on that detail to push yet another conspiracy theory about Spider-Woman. After all, why had the vehicle stuck on the bridge been left unharmed when another one had vanished?

There had to be a conspiracy!

Spider-Woman was working with the villains! The whole fight had been staged!

Peter, on the other hand, suspected that when yesterday's attack was considered alongside the one today, the real target was probably Oscorp Tower.

"I should ask someone here where this version of the Vulture came from," he muttered. He was almost certain the man had emerged from Oscorp Tower somehow, but checking would be safer than making assumptions.

At Oscorp Tower, Peter used his intern ID to pass through the security gate. Before he even reached the elevators, he ran into a familiar face.

"Oh, good evening, Dr. Connors."

"Good evening, Peter." Connors glanced behind him. "Gwen didn't come?"

"She performed today. They're celebrating now," Peter said. "Oh, right, Dr. Connors, we're going fishing tomorrow. Want to join us?"

"Me?" Connors gave a faint smile. "I'd better not. You know what things are like for me right now."

Norma was watching him too closely for him to leave easily. And if he went fishing with them, Peter might be the one who got into trouble. These days, even when Connors called Martha, he had to use an untraceable number and hide in an office restroom that had no surveillance cameras.

He had no doubt that if threatening his family would make him develop weapons, Norma wouldn't hesitate to do it.

For the moment, he still depended on the laboratories at Oscorp to produce his suppressant. Once he developed a cure, he intended to take Martha and disappear somewhere far away.

After everything he'd endured, Connors had finally come to understand something.

What mattered most to him had been beside him all along.

"I had some experimental data I wanted Gwen to work on, but if she's busy, she can come back tomorrow," Connors said. "Going to see Otto again?"

"That's right. You know I'm interning with him. Thanks again for the recommendation letter."

"No, no, Peter, you earned that position yourself." Connors chuckled. "I know Otto's temperament. Just look at Gwen. She doesn't suit his tastes at all. I could recommend you all day long, but getting him to recognize your talent is something only you could do."

They entered the elevator together. Peter was heading down to the basement, where Otto had a laboratory to himself.

He took the chance to ask, "Dr. Connors, do you know Toomes?"

"Toomes? Oh, yes. He's quite well known, a master of antigravity research. He's also done excellent work in aviation. I've read some of his papers. He works for Oscorp, too, and I think he has a laboratory of his own."

"Is his work more specifically about antigravity flight?"

Connors frowned and glanced at the security camera inside the elevator. "Perhaps. I don't know the details."

Neither said another word, but they had exchanged all the information they needed.

Connors hadn't considered the possibility before. Now that Peter had brought it up, though, Toomes really could have been the one who attacked Norma. The two had apparently had an unpleasant confrontation in the past.

Connors disliked Norma himself. She was the sort of person who forced her will on everyone around her. Even so, nothing could be allowed to happen to her. Only she could keep all of Oscorp under control.

When the elevator doors opened and Peter was about to step out, Connors asked, "Should I warn her?"

"She's not an idiot," Peter replied.

If Peter could work out that Toomes was almost certainly behind the attack, how could Norma fail to reach the same conclusion? Who else could build an antigravity system like that? Even if Toomes wasn't personally involved, he had to be connected somehow.

The elevator doors closed behind Peter. He swiped his card and entered Dr. Otto's laboratory.

"There you are, Peter," Otto greeted him through his safety goggles. "Come on. Today we're finally going to test the results of my research."

Otto's project was already in its final stages. The animal tests were complete. All that remained was a human trial.

Compared with Connors's practically random trial-and-error approach, Otto's research had moved forward at an astonishing pace.

His proudest creation was waiting on the workbench: an implantable set of neurally controlled robotic arms. Once the apparatus was connected directly to the spinal nerves and linked with its built-in artificial intelligence, it could take humanity a giant step toward merging with machines.

Cables that resembled blood vessels ran through rigid alloy housings, while four limbs made entirely of metal hung separately from their supports. Otto gazed at his masterpiece with satisfaction.

He intended to wear these mechanical prosthetics himself. What could be more convincing than a scientist personally using his own invention?

The design was radical, too. Rather than a device that could be taken off after use, it was meant to be implanted and kept in place almost permanently.

"Uh, you're going to put them on right now? Isn't that a little hasty?" Peter asked. "Maybe we should find volunteers first."

"It'll be fine, Peter. I have complete confidence in my work."

Hadn't Connors said almost exactly the same thing?

"And what about the AI, Dr. Otto?" Peter pressed. "I really think we should take another look at it. If it's connected to your nervous system, couldn't the AI start influencing the person controlling the arms? Animal testing wouldn't reveal a problem like that."

"Peter, if you refuse to help me, I'll do it myself!"

"All right, I'll help." Peter sighed. Otto was even harder to talk out of something than Connors, and Peter hadn't expected a few words to change his mind. Since the experiment was going ahead, he'd better think about how to deal with whatever came next.

Peter helped Otto check the parameters. Delighted, the scientist climbed onto the platform, looked at the beautiful, cold metal apparatus, took a deep breath, and removed his shirt.

"Peter, begin."

Once Otto was seated and securely strapped in, Peter checked one last time. "I'm going to confirm the procedure now, Doctor."

"Yes, Peter. Go ahead." Otto's face hardened with determination.

Peter pressed the confirmation button. The machinery moved into position and began attaching itself to Otto. Needles from the robotic apparatus drove into his spine.

"AAAAAAAH!"

Otto let out an agonized scream.

"Holy shit, wait! Dr. Otto, you didn't use any anesthetic?!" Peter blurted out as the realization hit him. That was taking things way too far!

It wasn't as though Otto could admit he'd been so excited that he'd forgotten.