Chapter 37
"Victor, it's good to see you," Howard extended his hand to shake.
"You called and said there was a rough layout," I shook the outstretched hand.
"Indeed," he returned to his desk, where the folder I'd brought him was already lying. It was open. "Come in, have a seat."
"Okay," I agreed and walked over to the offered chair. Interestingly, it was on the same side of the table as his own.
"I have carefully and thoughtfully reviewed all the data you brought and compared it with what is already in the series and in development," I nodded in agreement.
"This," he pulled out a dozen sheets of paper from the folder, "already exists. It's cutting-edge, not a mass-produced development, but it already exists," I nodded in agreement. "No big deal. It exists, so it's good; we won't have to waste resources on invention."
"This," he laid out another dozen and a half sheets, "can be implemented as a rational optimization of existing developments with minimal costs, but also with a rather small return," I shrugged. I didn't even expect every line of my scribbling to be worth its weight in diamonds. The locals aren't exactly slouchs, either.
"These are wonderful concepts, brilliant ideas, but completely impossible with the current hardware," I sighed heavily. "That was also to be expected. It doesn't mean I'll abandon these ideas, but they'll have to be put on hold for now."
"So what do we have left in the end?" I asked.
"The hardware and logic," Howard said, spreading his hands. "And the networks. Also, the great idea with the hard drive. We'll try to implement that first—you can never have too much memory."
— Well, that's already not bad. And what about the personal computers?
"According to engineers' estimates, built on the logic you're proposing, it would take up roughly the space of two of these tables stacked one on top of the other. And it would cost as much as a luxury cruise yacht."
"That won't do," I agreed. "The whole point of the idea is lost."
"So we'll start digging deep into the component base. And that's where the financial issue comes in."
"How much?" Howard wrote down an approximate amount on a piece of paper and handed it to me. I read it and scratched my head thoughtfully.
"I see this is a problem for you?" Howard said, a little worried.
"It's a problem," I nodded in agreement, "for me alone. I'll need to contact Eric and Charles. Consult, weigh our options. I'll give you an answer tomorrow."
"Okay," Stark agreed. "You brought me something else interesting, didn't you?" He nodded toward another folder I'd placed on the table at the beginning of our conversation.
"Yes," I agreed, "I did a little work in my spare time while my wife was getting ready for the restaurant. I'll leave you the materials; you can dig around and see if you find anything useful, but I've already got the general idea."
"I'll dig into it with great interest. You bring very fresh and original ideas, you know. They stimulate the imagination."
"Okay, I won't disturb you," I stood up from my seat, "I still need to go see Xavier."
"Good luck," Howard shook my hand.
"Victor, why do you need such a huge amount of money?" Charles asked. Hank, Eric, Raven, Xavier, James, and I were seated at a round table in the living room, sipping freshly brewed green tea. Charles was examining the scrap of paper I'd brought.
"Remember when I told you about the future of mutants?" I answered a question in Yiddish.
"I remember," he agreed, "You promised to kill me back then."
"A little earlier than this phrase," I smiled, "But a little later than the words about the creation of the school."
"Remind me," he sighed, "For you and Logan, ten years is not a long time, but for us mortals, it's very long."
"Let me remind you, you should have encountered this yourself by now. Where will your chicks go after School?"
"Well, almost all of my 'chicks' are in college now," Charles shrugged.
— And after?
— They'll try to find work, integrate into society…
"This is the job," I showed him the paper, "Stark Industries Corporation, the controlling stake of which, by the way, belongs to Eric and me."
— Let's say so, but what do such sums have to do with it?
"I've initiated a new large-scale project there, one that could perfectly accommodate your young talents. And there's room for Hank and Eric, too."
"You think I can fit into the workforce at a huge corporation in my current form?" Dr. McCoy raised his furry eyebrow skeptically. His mutation had progressed so far that he'd become the iconic furry blue Beast, despite all his and Charles's efforts.
"That's the whole point, I'm starting to develop remote work technology. Information networks and communications. You don't have to be in their lab in person. You can work in your own, but communicate with your colleagues in real time."
"Sounds tempting," Hank scratched his chin.
"But that's a lot of money even for me, Victor," Charles shrugged.
"Let me see," Eric said, reaching for the paper. Charles handed it back. "It's certainly not a small sum. But if I mine precious metals, and you handle their sale, using your connections and skills, we could raise it in five or six months."
— We'll crash the metals market. The price will fall. We're talking tens of tons.
"It's not scary," I smiled unpleasantly, "We can create a shortage."
"What do you mean?" Eric asked, wary. "He knows me better than anyone here."
"I'll rob Fort Knox or the Federal Reserve. Or blow up something highly radioactive there," I shrugged.
"And how will you do that?" Charles chuckled.
"I somehow managed it in '39," I shrugged. My secret about my ability to teleport has remained a secret for all these years. The only two people who might have guessed it are Nicole and Suoh. The former, because she has the ability to organize surveillance on me and compare my visits to my brother's with my apprenticeship in Japan. And draw conclusions. But even she shouldn't know for sure. And Suoh... If she knows about my adventures with Stalin, I can't say what else she might have spied through her "window." As for the others, I didn't give them a chance to reveal this trump card of mine.
Everyone suddenly became serious after my statement.
"Don't, Victor," Xavier pleaded softly. "They'll think of the mutants first. The authorities will have complaints. Questions are unnecessary."
"You've convinced me," I shrugged, "Suggest your own option."
"We'll think about it, Victor," Eric replied.
"Just not for too long. Otherwise, I'll steal the gold from the state, melt it down, and sell it back to them, no matter what! And who cares about the consequences."
"Don't swear in front of the kids," Logan winced.
"Sorry, James, it just slipped out," I immediately became embarrassed.
"And who are the 'children' here?" Eric asked. I looked at him reproachfully. "Okay, I get it," he sighed. "To you and the clawed one, we're all still children here."
"Just don't be offended," I put my hand on his shoulder, "You've grown up before my eyes."
"I'm not offended," he chuckled, "It's only thanks to you that I grew up at all and didn't rot in Auschwitz."
"Don't underestimate yourself. One way or another, in '44 or '45, the Allies would have recaptured the camp. And you were too important a prisoner to be allowed to die before then."
"Forty-third and forty-fifth are a huge difference," he noted.
"I don't argue," I agreed. "So will you give me the money, smart guys? Yes or no. Otherwise, I'm already starting to discuss the research with Howard tomorrow."
"We'll give it to you," Charles sighed, "But I still don't really understand why you need it."
"Consider it a whim. I'm bored. Morihei died. So I decided to push science," I shrugged.
"I'd rather go fight Bruce Lee if I'm bored," Logan shrugged.
"With whom, with whom?" I asked again, my voice suddenly hoarse.
"Bruce Lee," he confirmed that I had heard correctly. "He's a young master from China, he's been acting in a lot of movies these days. He's considered a superstar. He's developing his own style. He recently beat Captain America in a sparring match."
"Bruce Lee!!! No way! I can see Bruce Lee himself!!!" My face must have been terribly childish at that moment. But what can you do? It's an opportunity to see a legend with my own eyes. The very same Bruce Lee whose films I adored as a child. The very same Bruce Lee who started my passion for martial arts. None of them even come close to understanding what that name means to me!
"Why are you so fired up all of a sudden?" Eric asked in surprise.
"It doesn't matter," I waved it off, pulling myself together again.
"You better tell me, who is this?" he put the newspaper on the table. The newspaper with my photograph. In it, Suo and I are walking arm in arm toward the entrance to the New York Opera. And naturally, Eric's finger wasn't pointing at me.
"Suo Lansher, my wife," I shrugged, as if it were a matter of course.
"And how long ago?" he clarified. I glanced around at everyone present and realized they'd all gathered there just to sort this out. I'd only invited Charles and Eric, but when I arrived at the estate after my call requesting a meeting, they were all already there.
"About a hundred and thirty years, probably," I shrugged again.
"But what about…" Eric's eyes widened, "What about 'Holland'?"
"There was no Holland, Eric," I sighed. It was bound to come to light sooner or later. So why not now? "And there were no prostitutes. From the day we met, Suo was my only woman."
- But why then?..
"I didn't want you to follow me to the Arena," I sighed.
"The arena?" Charles asked, surprised.
"The Dragon Arena is an illegal fight for mutants, mages, vampires, werewolves, and anyone else whose powers exceed those of normal humans," Logan explained. "With betting, of course. It's a very dangerous place. I've only been there once, and I only survived thanks to my own tenacity. Winning there was out of the question. They also hold the Dragon Battle every five years. It's a kind of world championship for superhumans. It's next year, by the way."
"Darling, don't even think about going there!" Raven asked Eric softly but firmly, turning his head towards her.
"Why?" he asked in surprise. "I'm strong."
"Strong," she agreed. "Of course he's strong. Very strong. But, my dear, there's always someone stronger. And your body is perfectly human. One accidental blow and you're crippled for life. If not death."
"And she's right, Eric," Logan noted. "They usually take things out of the playground piece by piece. Not always, but very often."
"You obviously know something," Eric looked closely into his wife's eyes. She looked away. "Okay," he gave in. "We'll talk at home."
"Tell us about Suo, Victor," Charles changed the subject, "How did you live in such a way that even your adopted brother didn't know about anything?"
"That's how we lived," I shrugged. "She did her own thing, and I did mine. Whenever she got bored, she'd come to me."
— What do you mean? How did she come?
"Straight into the room," I snapped. This conversation was starting to tire me. My relationship with Suo was ours alone. No one else's. "We're together now. And that's enough about that," I said, a little harsher than I'd intended.
"Apparently a very unusual woman," Charles emphasized the word "unusual" with his intonation and grinned. "Was it with her that you robbed Fort Knox?"
"No. I did it alone," growling notes began to creep into his voice.
"That's it!" Charles held out his palms in a defensive gesture. "I'm not interfering anymore."
"Okay, us," Eric chuckled, "Fury reads newspapers too," the roar somehow began to die down.
"So, what about the 'chicks'? Should I invite them to Stark Industries?" I changed the subject.
"Call them," Charles ventured, "Just try not to spread them too thinly across departments. The guys are used to fighting for each other…"
And at that moment, THIS happened. Time froze. The world around me froze. Just stopped. All at once. Except me.
I looked around in confusion, trying to understand what was happening. But I didn't understand. No matter what, I didn't understand.
Charles froze, his mouth half-open, mid-sentence. Erik froze, his cup halfway to his mouth. Hank froze mid-motion (he was rocking in his chair out of habit)—it was comical: a huge blue-furred beast, serenely balancing atop a chair standing on its two hind legs. Logan froze, his hand raised to his chin. Raven—listening to something.
And another, previously unnoticed character stood frozen with his hand in my pocket. Pietro Lansher, a nine-year-old kleptomaniac—Raven and Eric's son. A true Quicksilver. He runs wild, unchecked, at speeds far greater than the speed of sound. More precisely, no one really knows the limits of his speed. Consequently, no one can keep track of him. Oh, the trouble his parents must have had with him…
And he also has a little sister. Her name is Wanda. Thank the gods, her powers haven't awakened yet. Pietro's didn't awaken until recently, less than six months ago. Ever since then, she's been running around like crazy. She can't get enough of him. He's a child, what can you expect?
But to hell with Pietro! What about me?
The world had stopped and never started moving. Even the steam above my cup of tea froze in place. I looked at it closely—a mesmerizing sight. It became even more mesmerizing when I let go of the cup, leaving it hanging in the air. Amazing... I stared, hypnotized, at this miracle, first from one side, then from the other.
And suddenly, the cup crashed. Naturally, spilling its contents all over me. And, as luck would have it, right onto my pants. And the tea, by the way, was hot. It hurt!
"…hug," Xavier finished.
"What's wrong?" Eric asked, looking at me, wet and stunned.
I patted my pocket. It was true, I wasn't imagining it.
"Pietro stole my wallet," I justified my embarrassment. There was no need for everyone to know about my strange outbursts.
Moreover, I'm starting to guess why this is happening to me.
Hank handed me a towel, which I accepted with a grateful nod and began to dry myself off.
"What a little kleptomaniac," Eric sighed wearily. The next minute, Pietro flew into the living room. Through the air. Carrying a metal string bag made of thin chains.
"Well, dad," came from him discontentedly, "What now?"
"Give Uncle Victor the wallet," Eric said calmly.
"But why me right away," the contents of the string bag were indignant, "Why, as soon as something goes missing, Pietro right away⁈
"Because, a hundred times out of a hundred, it really is Pietro," Raven replied wearily, rising from her chair and pulling the sought-after wallet out of the back pocket of the boy's shorts.
The girl gave me the confiscated item and returned to her seat.
- Well, mom!
"Don't talk shit to me, you little rascal. When will you finally stop doing this, huh? Maybe I should send you to Uncle Victor for training? So he can knock some sense into your little criminal head with his heavy fists and a cane?"
"I'll still run away," the guy pouted.
"From Uncle Victor?" Raven raised an eyebrow skeptically. "It's like you can't escape death, no matter how hard you try."
"You're exaggerating, Raven," I said, slightly offended. "Don't make me a scarecrow for the child. I'm not that scary at all. And in general, I'm a very kind person."
"As you say," she gave in, too quickly and easily, which was highly suspicious. "But in that case, you wouldn't mind teaching our wayward son a little martial arts? You're a master of four of them, right? You're kind, aren't you?"
"How do you even live with her, brother?" I turned to Eric, slightly shocked by her proposal. "She's not a woman, she's a moray eel!"
"Don't, Victor," he disagreed, "Raven is a good girl. Don't hurt her."
"I won't," I sighed, "But Pietro is better off working with Logan for now. He'll give him a general physical foundation and a good punch. With his speed, that's all he needs."
"Just say that you don't want to take it on because your wife has come to visit you, you henpecked husband," Raven teased me again.
— Why am I a henpecked husband?
"Darling, that's enough," Eric asked calmly and covered her hand, which was lying on the table, with his own.
"But, Eric," she still didn't calm down right away, "He really will run away from Logan."
"If he runs away from Logan, I'll bring him back and give him some weights to teach him a lesson," Eric shrugged.
"And no one wants to ask my opinion?" the contents of the string bag protested. "I'm not a thing to you, after all!"
"When you stop making trouble, we'll be interested in your opinion too," Eric responded calmly. "In the meantime, hang in there and keep a low profile, since you've been caught."
"Okay," I slapped my knees, standing up, "It's good with you, but I have to go."
"Victor," Charles stopped me with his address. I turned around. "Could you introduce us to your wife sometime?" There was so much mischievous amusement in his eyes that I just wanted to punch his smug face... But I just nodded. And silently left, waving goodbye to everyone.
Chapter 38
"Mages: Marek, Zeref, and Nordon were killed! Their heads were cut off, and their bodies were dumped in their own toilets!" Suo came through the wall and immediately began to complain.
I looked up from my desk, strewn with paper, my eyes blank. For three weeks now, I'd been squeezing knowledge of the techniques and technologies of "my" time from my memory, bit by bit. A terribly tedious task, I must say. It demands the utmost concentration on the task at hand. A combination of trance, meditation, and relaxation techniques with rational thinking, logic, and a scientific approach... It's truly exhausting.
"Cut off or torn off?" I asked, still lost in my formulas.
"They tore them away!" she said indignantly. "How?!! When?!! I didn't tell you their names!"
"You didn't say so, others did," I shrugged.
- But we agreed...
"I don't know what you were negotiating with anyone, but I told you I intended to kill them. And I did it. And mind you, not in Kamar-Taj."
"But how is this possible? They're people…" Suo said, lost.
"They're magicians. They don't deserve to live," I shrugged calmly.
"But I'm a magician too!" she began her song once again.
"You are my woman," I began.
"How can you do this, huh? Really?" She dropped her hands, all her anger draining out like air from a punctured balloon.
"The usual 'double standards,'" I shrugged. "Their everyday application. There are 'ours,' and there are everyone else. 'Ours' are beyond the pale. Period."
"You're a monster," she breathed out, her eyes wide.
"You just realized this now?" I asked, surprised. "In my life, I've killed over ten thousand people. Most of them in war and in the Arena. But about five hundred in peacetime. And my conscience doesn't bother me about it. So, yes, I am a monster. And you are my woman. Accept it."
"But you can't do this… It's not right…" I got up from the table and calmly walked towards her.
"So?" I walked over and took her by the shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes. A momentary sensation of penetration into my consciousness, and the "door" of my will was flung wide open.
A moment of fear that this was it, Suo was finished, the Beast would destroy her mind right here and now. But…
But this did not happen.
I felt Suo entering my mind, and the Beast was letting her in. What's more, he was fawning over her, purring like a kitten and jumping around her like a funny, fluffy puppy. I don't know how this is possible at the same time, but it's not in the real world, it's in my mind, so let's accept it as a given. That's right. Simultaneously.
And Suo sank deeper and deeper, penetrating the images of my memory. I don't know why she did this, but if the Beast doesn't mind, then what's the point of me complaining?
I embraced her real body with my real arms, without breaking our gaze, without breaking the connection between our minds. I embraced her and relaxed, enjoying the feeling of unreal unity with my woman. After all, after spinning, fawning, and purring next to "Suo," the Beast split in two. The Puppy remained jumping, fawning, and rubbing, while the Kitten, a black shadow, darted into Suo's mind.
And the most interesting thing is, I had no conscious control over it. I didn't even try. In fact, when the "door" of my will swings open, releasing the Beast, the very word "control" becomes inappropriate. What can the Beast control? It simply acts, reacting to the situation. It doesn't plan, it doesn't control—it acts.
And I am with him.
I am a person of emotions, a person of mood. My decisions are not rational, but impulsive. The will comes into play later.
Our embrace continued for another thirty minutes, ending with a passionate kiss and a break in contact. The kiss naturally escalated into an even more passionate encounter.
Suo and I haven't had such intense sex, probably since our very first meeting more than a hundred years ago.
It's no surprise that this exercise dragged on almost longer than it had last time. Or rather, it would have dragged on...
If Howard Stark hadn't shown up. Or rather, I only discovered it was Howard Stark when I opened the door for him. First came the insistent ringing of the doorbell, interrupted by an insistent knock on the door.
"Oh... Victor, I'm sorry," Howard froze, his fist raised to strike, when instead of the locked door, I appeared before his eyes. Moreover, my only clothing consisted of a single sheet, casually draped over my hips. I didn't even need to hold it in place—it was already holding on quite well thanks to certain physiological peculiarities consistent with the interrupted activity. Suo, who arrived a little later, dressed in a blanket, completed the picture by gently hugging me around the waist and nodding to Howard. "You haven't been answering your calls... You missed your scheduled meeting with the engineers... That's why I was worried..." I thoughtfully scratched the slightly growing stubble on my face.
— The meeting was rescheduled until when now?
"Ten o'clock tomorrow morning," Howard replied. I nodded, indicating I'd taken the information on board, and kissed my wife on the top of her smooth head.
"Have you been waiting long?" I asked, without much interest.
"The last meeting was six days ago," Stark answered cautiously.
"Six days?" I mused, patting my stomach, which had reminded me of its existence with a rumbling sound. "Perhaps it's time to get a proper meal, Suo," I thought out loud. "Can you suggest a decent place with good food, Howard? You know the city well, right?"
"Yeah, not bad," Stark chuckled, "Maybe we should come to Maria and me then?"
"No, Howard, I'm sorry, but when you're visiting someone, you have to be polite and decency-based, which means you'll leave sober, angry, and hungry. Next time, then. Just give me the address of a good restaurant, that'll be enough."
"As you say," Stark smiled, finally regaining his composure. He thought for a moment and then dictated the name of the place I'd requested, which I carefully memorized. And with that, we parted.
"That was awkward," Suo remarked as the door closed behind Howard.
"Sleeping on the ceiling is uncomfortable," I chuckled. "The blanket falls off."
"I understand Russian, Vic, but the meaning of what is said eludes me," she sighed.
"It's a phraseological unit, a saying, a half-joke," I tried to explain.
- And what does it mean?
"Well, 'uncomfortable' isn't the right word to describe this situation. Personally, I didn't feel any discomfort. And looking at Stark's embarrassed face was actually kind of funny."
"What an impenetrable, shameless boor you are, Vik! A complete lout! As if you didn't have four of the most prestigious higher education degrees in Europe," Suo lightly hit me with her fist and held her hand where she'd struck me. "A boor," she said in a completely changed voice, and with the same hand she hadn't pulled away after the blow, she pushed me sharply.
Abruptly and unexpectedly.
I weigh one hundred and twenty-five kilograms. She weighs no more than forty-five. But that push sent me flying about five meters.
I flew away, realizing something was wrong. Completely wrong. Because I could see the back of my own head! And my own body slowly sinking to the floor…
Shock. That's how I can briefly and succinctly describe my state in one word. Totally sensory, emotional, and psychological at the same time.
And it fell upon me at the moment when I realized the reality of my disembodied state. That I exist, but I exist OUTSIDE my physical body.
In my long life "here," I have often encountered things and phenomena that go beyond the bounds of ordinary reality, including the use of magic, but none of it was so shocking.
I would even say traumatically shocking.
Apparently for this reason, the new "ability" that had appeared after the green stone treatment kicked in. The world around me stopped. While everything had slowed down significantly when Suo pushed me out of my body, now it froze completely.
If I had something to say, I'd spit. But that's the thing, I have nothing to say. No body, no time, no idea how to move, no idea what to do...
Fear, rage, more fear, bloodlust, horror, panic, more rage—they rolled in waves, literally overwhelming my entire being. I longed for some kind of foothold. Something familiar and familiar in this world that had suddenly become alien and unknown.
And I found that point—teleportation. Those very same "jumps" that the Tesseract treatment gave me.
They proved to be functional in this unknown reality, too. And I "leaped" to where I wanted to go most of all—into my body.
As soon as I found myself in it, an incredible feeling of relief washed over me, as if I were the Titan Atlas, who had finally thrown the sky from his shoulders onto the back of the simpleton Hercules.
And time moved again at its usual speed. My body didn't even have time to fall, merely lost its balance and stability, which I immediately regained by taking a step back. My face twisted into a joyful, anticipatory, hunter's grin, and my eyes blazed with a lust for blood. Claws sprouted from my hands, raised to strike, as did those on my feet. They were quite small on their own, no more than a centimeter long, but combined with the rest of my body, they were a formidable weapon, capable of tearing steel and scratching stone.
Suo turned pale and recoiled. The blanket fell from her shoulders, revealing her body.
The next moment, I leaped upon the victim who had carelessly provoked the Beast. Resistance was crushed in a matter of seconds, and then it was sex again. Wild, rough, furious, and passionate. In which Suo had no say, no right to decide or not to want anything.
I'm not a positive hero. I think everyone realized this long ago. I am a Beast. I can admit it to myself. There is no division within me, truly, between Beast and Man. I am one. And I am a Beast with a human mind, not a Man possessed by a beast, like those werewolves. And the "door" of will holds me myself, not some separate part of me.
I raped Suo harshly. Without maiming her, of course, and without causing her unnecessary pain or injury. But the essence didn't change. I raped her. She was my prey, my victim. Mine!
It didn't last long. No more than two hours. Then we lay silently on the floor next to each other, staring at the ceiling. I felt ashamed of myself, of what had happened, but I didn't know what to say, how to apologize, or even if I should? Do words even have any meaning anymore?
Suo, unexpectedly and illogically for me, moved closer, lay on my shoulder, and put her arm around me. All this, too, silently.
I hugged her back. And we lay like that for a long time, without moving or saying anything.
"Why did you do that?" were my first words after that jolt that had knocked me out of my body. A considerable amount of time had passed since then: we'd managed to get dressed, wait for a taxi, get to the restaurant Stark had mentioned, and satisfy our initial hunger (the waiters were getting tired of running to our table with trays). Now the process of satiation was proceeding much more smoothly, and there was time to talk.
"I wanted to broaden your understanding of the world around you. To try to reconcile you with magic by letting you experience it for yourself," Suo replied.
"I wouldn't say it was magic, but I did feel the shock. I even experienced it," I chuckled.
"It's a natural reaction to the first time you exit your body into the astral plane. The sensory experience is completely different... It should have been pleasant, by the way," she smiled tentatively. But the smile faded instantly. "But how were you able to return to your body so quickly on your own? This is completely unnatural."
"I really wanted to," I chuckled, "So I came back."
"It's always like this with you: 'I really wanted it…'," she sighed.
"I have a good body. I like it. I feel better in it than on the outside," I decided to explain the situation a little for her.
They ate in silence for some time.
"Why did you get into my head?" I broke the silence. "It was dangerous, by the way."
"You're exaggerating," she smiled. "You're such a sweetheart inside! A purring puppy is something incredible."
"Urduly wouldn't agree with you," I looked away.
"Urduly?" she asked, surprised. "He was among the fifty who left with the Ananerbe. Did you cross paths with him during the war?"
"Once," I answered evasively.
"Knowing you, I can safely assume he didn't survive that encounter?" she sighed sadly. I just shrugged, as if to say, "How could it be otherwise?"
They ate in silence for some time again.
"But it's strange that you associate your inner self with an animal," she broke the silence this time.
"Why?" I was a little surprised.
"Usually, people, no matter who they are, associate their 'I' with something humanoid. The vast majority, with their own bodies. The only difference is apparent age. Most often, they're children, teenagers, less often young men and women, and very rarely, old people. But animals... I've never even heard of such a thing."
"When I was a kid, I ran away from home and spent several years running with a wolf pack. Maybe that's why," I shrugged.
"Maybe," she sighed heavily, "But you behaved like a real animal!" She finally let out her emotions. "Don't ever do that again! I didn't like it at all! It's terrible! I'm not a pervert who loves pain and roughness! And I'm not a brothel whore to be treated like a thing! If you even try something like that again, I won't hold back and I'll hit you with magic!"
"You provoked me," I shrugged, but looked away. "You attacked without warning. And then you retreated, afraid... Fear smells too sweet and arousing. Not attacking was beyond my strength. I'm sorry. But don't do it again. Please. Don't attack me, don't provoke the Beast with aggression."
"I'm not afraid of puppies," she snorted.
"Please," I repeated, "don't make me close myself off with a 'wall' of will. I... loo..." and then stopped myself. My suddenly dry throat refused to pronounce the word.
"What did you say?" she looked up at me.
"Nothing," I muttered, burying my face in my plate and quickly stuffing my mouth with food. It didn't matter what kind. I think I'd accidentally shoved something really sharp in there and bitten into it. I think it was a pepper shaker before I bit it. A glass one.
"Come on, repeat that," she said, not looking away. I chewed slowly and swallowed hard. In the process, one of the shards pierced my throat from the inside and fell out through the hole it made, which immediately healed, leaving only a few drops of blood on my skin. It must have been a disgusting sight, but Suo didn't even flinch, continuing to stare intently at my face.
"I... love you..." My throat went dry again. But I managed to overcome myself and barely audibly squeeze out, "...love you, Suo."
"Did I hear you right?" she asked again.
"I love you, Suo," I repeated calmly. It turns out saying it a second time is much easier than the first.
"And two hundred years have not passed," she smiled with lips slightly swollen from my kisses.
"I love you, Suo. And I want to marry you... properly, not just paperwork. Will you marry me?"
- Yes, Vic. I will marry you. But...
- But?
"But do it again, and I'll kill you! And I don't care that you're immortal. There are ways to kill even immortals. And places worse than death. Remember that!"
"I'll remember," I nodded, "And… forgive me if you can."
"I forgive you, but I warned you," she said and placed her hand on my arm, "I love you too, you idiot, you shameless boor…"
Chapter 39
"Well, say it again, Vic," she said, coming up behind me as I sat at the desk and putting her arm around my shoulders, and gently bit my ear.
"Suo, I've already said everything. If anything changes, I'll let you know," I replied without turning my head.
"What are you really like, Vic?" she sighed. "Is it really so hard to say?"
"It's not difficult," I objected, "But why repeat the same thing? It's not rational. And not logical."
"Since when did the words 'rational' and 'logical' have any relevance to you?" she asked, surprised.
— Right from the moment Howard put me to work developing the logic circuit for our first new-generation processor.
"Processors, coprocessors, computers-shmuyuters..." she said discontentedly. "Aren't you tired of it? You're fussing around with this, hmm... nastiness. And your young wife, by the way, is bored!"
"So much so that he only shows up at home for a couple of hours a day?" I put my pencil down and turned to face her.
"Don't look so reproachful," she put her hands on her hips. "You know I have students, responsibilities, a mission. I'm already bending over backwards to be with you longer and more often."
"So, why are you upset? I'm just filling the time between your visits with something interesting. Right now, I'm interested in computers. When I get bored, I'll do something else."
"Magic?" she suggested hopefully. I grimaced as if I'd bitten into a lemon. I didn't say anything, but my expression spoke volumes. "Okay, don't say anything, I get it."
"Nothing at all?" I raised an eyebrow.
"No, no! Not exactly. I want to hear THIS!" she immediately backed down.
"I missed you," I purred, walking up to her and gently hugging her.
"That's not quite what I was hoping to hear," she sighed. But my kiss didn't allow her to pursue the topic any further.
Our wedding took place in Kamar-Taj, quietly and modestly, a week ago. It followed some ritual completely unfamiliar to me. Most likely magical. Or perhaps taken from the culture of the people to which Suo once belonged. I never asked her age, after all. And I don't intend to do so in the future.
The result of the ritual was a pair of tattoos on our right wrists. At first, my healing factor prevented any marks from leaving on my skin, but Suo worked some magic on the ink. The result now adorns my arm, encircling it like a bracelet of incomprehensible yet beautiful patterns and symbols.
Suo swore it had no magical effect. That the drawing was purely ritualistic, and the symbols signified only my wife's full name. And she, accordingly, has my full name. But in the language of her people. Long extinct.
I believed it straight away. Right away, right away. But I have nothing to show for it yet. I still don't understand the symbols... yet. I have plenty of time: I'll dig through the archives, find something, figure it out. And then we'll see.
Today I finally made up my mind. I decided to visit my childhood idol, Bruce Lee.
Last night, I canceled all my plans for the day: I rescheduled a work meeting/consultation with a group of engineers working on an ADSL modem prototype; I told Suo I'd be busy and there was absolutely no need for her to rush home; I relayed to Logan through Xavier that our traditional chess game would be postponed until an indefinite "sometime later" (he, like me, had plenty of time ahead of him; he could wait).
"And here I stand, at the edge of a waterfall. Water pours from the sky—that's how the sky should have it..."—as the unforgettable Butusov once sang in "my" world. For some reason, as I approached the threshold of my idol's abode, his song was the one that kept playing in my head. Maybe I should get into show business? Not on my own, of course, although... I should recall all the "great" hits that haven't yet been written here, honestly plagiarize them (thankfully, I can reproduce not only the lyrics but also the notes; my musical education was worth it), put together a band of decent young musicians, not necessarily talented ones, and rake in the cash, pushing "culture to the masses"...
I shook my head, dispelling these untimely thoughts, and took a step. I pushed open the unlocked door and finally entered the hall that was sacred to me…
And he stared at Logan's back.
"And you're here?" I put my hand on his shoulder, approaching quietly and unnoticed, trying not to distract the master from his work, fortunately, Howlett himself was standing off to the side, as a spectator, not a participant.
"I told you about him," Logan chuckled. "Of course I'm here. And Cap's here," he nodded toward the tall figure among Master Li's students. I chuckled.
— At least Fury isn't here?
"No," Logan grinned, "Not today."
"And in general?" I frowned.
— It happens. And quite often. She takes lessons. She's been training like crazy for twenty years now. She rushes from master to master, trying to get stronger.
"And how are things going?" I asked listlessly.
"He's not up to Steve's level yet," Logan shrugged. "Let's go to the bench, why are we standing in the aisle?"
"Let's go," I agreed, "But quietly. I don't want to distract the Master."
"That's not like you," Howlett said with a wry grin.
"It's Bruce Lee himself! Alive! The real deal!" Logan's grin gave way to a look of astonished confusion. But he didn't ask any questions. He just shook his head, as if trying to wake up or shake off a daze.
Meanwhile, I was completely absorbed in watching the training session, and especially watching my childhood idol himself. And he lived up to that title: precise movements, graceful execution, the strength that shone through in literally every breath…
Beautiful.
I didn't even notice how time flew by. Bruce concluded the class, and the students filed out, some heading to the exits, some to the benches, some staying to practice a specific move.
Steve approached the Master and started saying something, pointing at Howlett and me. Bruce became intrigued and walked purposefully toward us. I became nervous and twitchy, like a schoolgirl on her first date. I was surprised at myself, but I couldn't compose myself or calm down. Even the Beast, for once, wasn't banging on the closed "door."
"Hello, gentlemen," Bruce said, approaching and bowing politely. "Mr. Rogers told me that you are Masters of Martial Arts. Was he mistaken?"
"No," Logan answered first, while I was trying to cope with my excitement, "He's the Master," the shaggy bastard pointed his thumb at me, "I just came to have a look."
"Mr. Rogers said otherwise," Bruce countered politely. "He said it was you, Mister Howlett, who taught him for twenty years. And he himself is practically a Master."
"I'm not a Master. Just a bully with a lot of experience. I haven't studied any Arts," Logan shrugged. "He's lying, the dog, and he doesn't even blush. But it's not for me to judge him." "But here he is," he turned the tables on me again, "at least sixth dan in Aikido. And before that, he'd been doing something like that for many years." That bad man gave me away.
"Gentlemen, would you mind sparring with me?" Bruce bowed.
"I'm passing," Howlett immediately disclaimed. "I just came to watch," Bruce turned his gaze to me. I sighed and slowly rose from the bench. To my full height. Then I straightened my shoulders to their full width.
Then he bowed low and respectfully in the Japanese manner.
Actually, I'd be lying if I said that's not why I came to the gym today. Naturally, I wanted to fight Bruce Lee himself. And I knew I could do it. So why pretend to be embarrassed?
But the excitement and trembling... This is the first time this has happened to me.
But I didn't come today in sports clothes. And certainly not in a kimono. So I had to take off my silk shirt, so as not to rip it in the process, and my patent leather shoes, for the same reason. And my trousers were already loose-fitting (I can't stand clothes that restrict my movement. Absolutely not. They irritate me).
Bruce glanced at my exposed torso and even clicked his tongue. And for good reason: I'd always been muscular, as far back as I could remember in "this" life, by "nature." Most likely due to a mutation. And with my height, it looked like a mountain of muscle. Impressive.
But decades of persistent, daily exercise have "convinced" even a carcass as stubborn as mine to shed its excess, useless bulk, transforming it into "sinews" as dry as belts, as hard as oak wood, and as taut as rope. I was "pumped up" and now I'm "wiry." Perhaps this is what they call "pink muscles," but I never cared about it.
But at the same time, having lost in volume (in comparison with the initial state), I did not lose weight (thanks to the experiments of Issey and Schmidt).
In fact, I looked pretty much like Bruce himself, only with a slight difference in height and shoulder width. Lean and sinewy.
We walked out to the center of the room. The people who had scattered at the end of the class had returned and were now finding comfortable seats. Logan wasn't the only one who wanted to watch Bruce Lee fight.
Bruce began to "jump," preparing for an attack and anticipating mine. I, on the other hand, "anchored," concentrating on pulling my center of gravity toward the Earth's center of gravity, as both Morihei and the Shaolin Masters had taught.
Bruce got tired of waiting and attacked me first. And I... And I, like a fragile crystal vase, was afraid to damage him with a careless move. Let me remind you—mutant abilities, twice... now three times artificially enhanced. I could hit Logan with full force, using Weapon X, breaking through reinforced concrete walls with his indestructible bulk. But here was a mere human, without abilities or a healing factor. Just one accidental blow, even a glancing one, and that's it—a corpse. Or a cripple.
I couldn't allow something like this to happen.
And so I decided to counter him with the gentlest style I knew—tai chi chuan. Slow and soft, versus fast and hard. Kung fu has all sorts of clever sliding blocks, dodges, interceptions, feints… But ordinary fighters rarely use them due to their low combat effectiveness. Combat… or rather, fighting. They don't inflict damage on the opponent. A fighter's job is to inflict damage.
In my memory, they were used by Masters. Old Masters, at that. Old in age.
Actually, in this case I fit this definition perfectly.
And I succeeded!
It was almost like the legend of the Tai Chi Master who was approached by a young hard-style fighter: Bruce struck quickly, beautifully, effectively, with his feet, his punches, jumping and standing, trying to grab... and I kept finding myself behind his left shoulder. He was fast, and I deliberately moved slowly, in keeping with the style's precepts. But that's still how it turned out.
Beautiful. The very essence of this fight was beautiful. For me, it was beautiful. I don't know about others, but for me, it certainly was. An amazing fight.
It suddenly dawned on me that Tai Chi doesn't teach how the weak can defeat the strong. No! It teaches how the strong can avoid injuring an aggressive weaker one. How to gently stop an aggressor without killing them or increasing their aggression.
Unfortunately, it couldn't go on forever. Bruce was tired.
Once again, not finding me in front of him, he stopped and lowered his hands. I stopped too.
He turned to face me and bowed, performing a kung fu salute (fist pressed into an open palm).
- Sir...
"Lensher," I said my last name so as not to put the man in an awkward position.
"Mr. Lansher, I am infinitely grateful to you for this sparring session. You are a true Master! So beautifully and naturally showing me how little I still know."
"No," I shook my head, "I'm just starting out on the path. My teacher was the true Master."
"How I'd love to meet him!" Bruce didn't insist on the genuineness of my skills. I just shrugged my shoulders sadly.
"What's the name of this style? The movements are all painfully familiar, but their combinations... And this deceptive slowness..."
"Wushu Tai Chi Chuan," I didn't try to hide it.
"Tai Chi," Bruce was surprised, "It's just health exercises!"
- I thought so too. Before.
"Thank you for another lesson, Master Lansher," he bowed to me, this time without the kung fu greeting. I bowed too: politeness and etiquette—that's another thing the old Masters always scrupulously observed. I'll have to think about it—maybe there's a meaning to this, too, that I hadn't noticed before?
— Can I hope to see you again at least once? Perhaps, if you agree, I could take a few lessons?
— To see, yes. To teach, no. I'm not ready to teach yet. There's too much to comprehend.
"Then perhaps sparring?" he persisted.
"Okay," I smiled, "Next time."
"I'll be happy to welcome you to my hall at any time, Mr. Lansher," he said, bowing again. Perhaps these rituals are pointless after all? It's tiring.
We walked out of the building with Logan.
"You're a liar," I snapped at him. Howlett knows Russian, so I wasn't afraid of being misunderstood.
"What do you mean?" he asked, surprised.
— You went to Japan after the war. And studied there.
- Um... Well, compared to you, it's nothing.
- That's what I'm saying - you're a liar.
"I would have crippled him. You understand that, right?" Logan said, becoming serious.
"Naturally," I shrugged, "But still a liar."
"Agreed," Howlett grinned and took out a cigar, "Let's go formalize the game?"
"Let's go," I smiled.
Chapter 40
The doorbell rang at our house. I stood up from my desk with some reluctance. I didn't really want to be distracted, but the ringing sounded intriguing: Suo doesn't ring when she arrives, she simply enters using her "double ring." Howard, after that incident, first calls and announces his visit. And no one else ever comes to visit us. So I was genuinely interested.
I opened the front door and froze. Nicole stood there, wearing a beige dress fashionable at the time, holding a wicker, rectangular, lidded basket slung over the crook of her right arm.
"Hello, Victor," she smiled, "I'm here to visit you. Will you let me in?"
"On business?" I asked cautiously.
"No," she smiled even brighter, "Just visiting."
"Come in," I stepped aside, making way for the house. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting guests, so the house isn't tidy."
"So, when you were featured on the Daily Bugle's front page, you weren't expecting any guests? So, I was wrong to take that as an invitation?"
"Journalists," I chuckled, "A coincidence."
"A coincidence?" Nicole asked in surprise.
"I just went to the opera with my wife," I explained, "And then there were these… I'm not going to go back, are I?"
"With your wife?" Fury latched onto the word and made a surprised face. In vain. I was so convinced she hadn't done any research before coming, hadn't found out the details: who, what, and how.
I looked at her reproachfully, without saying anything.
"Okay, okay, sorry," she raised her hands in a surrender gesture. "Of course I have all the information that Howard knows, and some of what Howlett knows. But the thing is, those blockheads don't really know anything!!" The indignation in her voice was almost genuine.
I raised an eyebrow questioningly.
"And we couldn't find out anything at all from SHIELD channels! Not even when and where you got married!" she correctly interpreted my facial expression. "My beloved Uncle Viktor got married, and I know nothing about her!! Outrageous!"
I just shrugged and reached into the closet for a clean tablecloth.
"Will you tell me?" she asked pleadingly, watching me set the table with a beautiful patterned cloth. "After all, it was her portrait that was on the wall in your bedroom all these years?"
"Her," I didn't deny the obvious, "We've known each other for a very long time."
"In that painting, she's wearing a magician's robe. Who is she?" Nicole asked, taking out a bottle of wine, fruit, foil-wrapped plates, and a small basket of pastries from her basket.
"Ancient. Supreme Sorcerer of the Earth Dimension!" Suo said, her voice cheerful and tinged with malice and mockery, emerging from the ring of fire that had opened on the wall at that moment. "You didn't say we'd have guests, dear," she said to me in the same tone.
"I didn't know myself," I answered, approaching my wife and kissing her.
"Will you introduce us?" she asked, pulling away after the kiss.
"Why?" I didn't understand. Indeed, Suo had just introduced herself, and I couldn't believe she didn't know who Nicole was.
"For the sake of politeness and decorum," she replied easily, pushing me away from setting the table. The next moment, the dishes flew to their proper places of their own accord.
Magic... I frowned and barely suppressed the growl that was threatening to escape. Zen Issei! Because of that bastard, even his own wife's magic now makes me furious and want to kill. He's finally developed a conditioned reflex, the bastard.
I closed my eyes, mentally recited a mantra, calmed myself down, opened my eyes, and turned to the girls (although, what kind of girls are they? One is over forty, the other over a thousand... on the other hand, they both look twenty-eight at most, so let them be girls).
"Suoh, this is Nicole Fury—the girl I raised. A war hero and Director of SHIELD," I gestured toward Nicole. She straightened up and, after the introduction, performed a playful curtsy. "Nicole, this is Suoh—my wife," I gestured back toward my sorceress. She bowed politely, Chinese-style, with a kung fu salute.
"Thank you, Vic," Suo smiled, "I invite everyone to the table!"
"Where did you meet, Uncle Victor?" Nicole asked me, placing a napkin on her lap and picking up the cutlery.
"In Tibet," I replied laconically, ignoring the "rules of table manners" and simply pulling the plate of roast duck toward me. I tore off a leg and began chewing it with relish. Bones included, fortunately, because my jaw and teeth were strong enough.
"In Tibet?" Nicole asked.
"Yes," Suo smiled, "He was the strangest monk I've ever seen. He showed up at Kamar-Taj, gave the eldest disciple some silver, sent him out for a drink, and then started making advances on the Supreme Sorcerer!"
"What, he just showed up? To a secret settlement of mages? And no one did anything to him?" Nicole was genuinely surprised.
- Miss Fury...
"Nicole, just Nicole," the SHIELD Director smiled. "You can call me Nick, if you like."
"Then, just Suo. And it's better to be on first-name terms," the sorceress smiled back.
- Okay, Suo.
"So, Nick, you simply didn't see him at that moment! It didn't even occur to anyone to even try to object to him!"
"Well, I've seen different versions of him," Nicole replied, a little hurt.
"Hardly like that," Suo smiled. "By the time you met, he'd already settled down considerably. And he was even embarrassed to show his 'un-pedagogical' traits in front of the child. You could say it wasn't he who raised you, but you who raised him."
"I never thought about it that way," Nicole said, "But perhaps I should have… And what was he like?"
— Impudent beyond belief. Self-assured. A narcissistic boor! A highwayman, plain and simple! And bald, in monk's robes, with the eyes of a hungry wolf… Incredibly sexy!
"So what? So he came to the secret settlement of magicians, and?" Nicole blushed slightly.
"And he seduced me," Suo admitted, smiling dreamily, apparently at her memories, "I offered him knowledge, magic, the secrets of the Universe…"
- And he?
"And I wanted to fuck," I couldn't stand this self-discussion and chimed in. "I spent eight years in a monastery. Those 'secrets' of Zen weren't really my thing at the time."
"And you? Did you agree?" Nicole asked, even covering her mouth with her hand from the excess of emotion, "With the man you just saw?"
"He was sooo persistent!" Suo replied. "And I myself... I hadn't been with a man for over a thousand years at that moment. And here was such a specimen! Tall, blue-eyed, broad-shouldered, strong, not an ounce of fat, brazen, persistent, confident, but not rude... An insanely sexy beast! I'd be a fool not to give in..."
"And then?" Nicole decided not to go into details.
"A week later, without saying goodbye, he left," Suo responded. "I rebuilt the village's defenses and moved it spatially to a neighboring mountain valley…"
- AND?
"A month later he came again. And he couldn't care less about all my efforts..." Suo sighed mockingly. "And a month later... That's how we came to an agreement."
Apparently, the sorceress decided not to recount the full story of our relationship. And for the best.
"Hmm… That doesn't really look like Uncle Victor," Nicole thought.
"That's what I'm saying," Suo shrugged. "A dissolute Buddhist monk came to Kamar-Taj. And the one who sailed to France was an abbot who had retired through a staged funeral. Is there a difference?"
"Perhaps," Nicole agreed. "I never would have thought Uncle Victor was a monk. Much less the abbot of a monastery..."
— I was a lousy monk. And an even lousier abbot.
"It's hard to disagree with the first one," Suo smiled, "But I'd still argue about the second one."
"A good man wouldn't run away and abandon the monastery," I said, putting an end to the argument. They were silent.
"Suo... I've heard of the Ancient One in the line of duty..." Nicole broke the silence, "But somehow I imagined someone who has been protecting an entire Dimension from external magical threats for over a thousand years... And there have been quite a few of them during that time..."
"Appearances can be deceiving," Suo said, pouring herself some tea with a mysterious half-smile. "You wouldn't even guess that Viktor has mastered the art of calligraphy to perfection. And the scrolls he left behind are still used as a model for learning this art."
"Based on my scribbles?" I was genuinely surprised. How bad are things there that I've become the "standard"?
"You're too hard on yourself," Suo ruffled my hair.
"Really? Indeed," Nicole feigned interest. "I knew his handwriting was calligraphic, but I didn't know he mastered the art himself. And what brought you two to New York, exactly? It seems Victor is more drawn to old Europe, and the Ancient One to mainland China?"
"Oh, Nicole, Nicole... You didn't come to visit for no reason. Not at all for no reason," I thought, and my expression must have changed, because the girl reacted immediately.
"If it's not a secret, of course," she raised both hands in a "surrender" gesture.
"It's not exactly a secret," Suoh shrugged. "Not from SHIELD, at least. New York is home to one of the great magical temples that protects our dimension from outside invasion. Naturally, it's within my area of responsibility and interest. Vik didn't care where, as long as it wasn't in Kamar-Taj... And so he got to visit his brother while he was at it.
"Brother?" Nicole latched onto the word. A dangerous, passionate glimmer lit up the eye that wasn't covered by the bandage.
"I'm Victor Lansher. My brother is Eric Lansher." It was too late to play around with secrets. Because, without even realizing it, Suo had given Max Eisenhart away. After all, Nicole would get to the bottom of it one way or another now, with such a serious lead as the word "brother." A Doctor of Physical and Mathematical Sciences from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.
— I didn't know you had brothers…
"You didn't even know about your wife," I remarked a little grumpily.
"And he's... the same... as, like you?" Nicole asked, carefully trying to choose her words.
"You'll find out everything yourself anyway, unless, of course, you're really pretending," I said, dropping all pretense and becoming very serious. "Eric is Max. Yes, he didn't die in '43. Yes, I knew that. Yes, not only did I know, but I also raised him as best I could. I got him papers. Helped him get a secondary and higher education. And yes, I've kept in touch with him all these years. Now stop acting surprised and tell me honestly, honestly, without your spy tricks: you didn't know? You didn't know that Lansher was Eisenhart?"
"I knew," Nicole looked away. "Of course I knew. As soon as he appeared in Xavier's entourage, he was immediately checked out thoroughly. His documents were perfect, as was his cover story and references. But I simply recognized him from his photograph." I silently raised an eyebrow, expressing skepticism.
"Okay!" Nicole gave in. "Since you settled in France. I received a report from the caretaker of my building. I identified both you and Max from a photo. Then SHIELD lost track of you the moment I spent my vacation with you. It was like they vanished into thin air! They found you from a photo with Morihei in a Japanese newspaper, and Max a little later, when he met with Xavier."
"See how easy it is to tell the truth?" I smiled encouragingly at the girl, just like I had long ago, when she was still a little girl. "Don't play spy with me, then I'll trust you more."
"Okay," Nicole dismissed the jokes, "Then tell me—what is this project you've started with Stark Industries? It's not for nothing that you and Max own a controlling stake in that corporation, is it?"
"Hmm… You'll hardly believe me if I tell you," I sighed.
- You try it.
"The controlling stake was an accident. I simply had money after the war, and I invested it in the company of a man whose genius I knew firsthand. That answers the first question."
"Millions of dollars?" Nicole didn't believe it.
"Yes," I shrugged, "Eric was mastering his abilities, training, mining gold and silver. That's what we laundered through the bank... And Howard fully justified our trust."
"Well, I believe it," Fury sighed. "Long-range planning has never been your strong point. Just like planning in general... You're a man of moods. And the project? There's a lot of money involved: billions of dollars."
"It's a whim," I admitted quite honestly. "When we arrived in the city, and Suo started constantly disappearing on her 'magical' business, I got bored…"
— Bored Uncle Victor is scary... And what did he come up with?
— A game. One that can be played on a computer… But to do that, we need to improve the computers. Make them accessible to young people. Connect them into a single global network. Well, and write the game itself. Believe it or not, I've said it all.
"I believe you," Nicole sighed and smiled. "I believe in such absurdity. Moreover, I'm confident you'll succeed. So confident that I'm willing to pitch in, both with my personal capital and with the resources of SHIELD and the former Strategic Scientific Reserve."
"The government, the military…" I winced, as if I'd smelled shit, "Maybe we should just forget about them… and go to Zen?"
"Perhaps," Fury mused, "Yes. You're right. The government and the military don't care, but SHIELD is involved!"
Now I'm starting to think about it. SHIELD is potentially Hydra... And who cares! Let Cap worry about it!
- Okay. But I won't sell you my package!
"Greedy! Uncle Victor is a greedy man!" Nicole whined, just like she had done long ago, when she was a child.
"And does that work?" Suo looked at Fury with interest.
"Well… You could have begged for some ice cream that way," Nicole looked away, "Or flown a plane… Or used a machine gun for shooting…"
"You'll definitely teach me later," Suo stated categorically.
- Let him be a greedy man. I won't sell it anyway!
- Well, Uncle Victor!..
These "bouts" of frozen time are starting to really get on my nerves. And most importantly, I can't figure out how it works, let alone take control of it. So I'm forced to suffer in silence, waiting out yet another "tactical pause" in a conversation, in the backseat of a car while driving somewhere, during a meeting with Stark's engineers... during sex!!!
What a nightmare.
No, I understand that over time, a feature like completely stopping time in the surrounding world could turn me into a super-imba, someone even omega mutants like Jean Grey or Erik Lansher wouldn't want to mess with. But that's "over time" and "in the long run." Right now... it's a real bummer.
Because of these attacks, I even had to temporarily stop training sparring with Bruce, as he even got injured during the last one.
How did it happen? Simple. I had an attack right in the middle of sparring. The world around me froze. And so did Bruce. I let out a tired sigh and lowered my arms... And the attack ended. And my arms dropped.
Bruce's fist connected squarely with my solar plexus. The look of bewilderment on his face was incredible—he'd actually hit me! It was the first time he'd ever hit me with one of his punches. However, the next second, pain and anguish crossed his face: let's not forget my mutant strength and resilience. Plus, the fist didn't connect with me at the intended point, but just a little early. About a centimeter. The guy dislocated his wrist with that blow.
The most interesting thing about this incident is that Bruce took it as another "invaluable lesson"! And afterward, he even thanked me! Even apologizing feels awkward after something like that. I can't just claim it was an accident and I just screwed up, can I?
I had to explain to him the principle of "irimi" from Aikido (which, by the way, is based on precisely this: making a direct entry, short and direct, meeting the attack slightly before the point where it gains maximum force. And at this point, the opponent will be most vulnerable. He will essentially crash against the nagi's body like a wave against a rock. He might even injure himself with his own attack, much like Bruce had just injured himself). The guy was deep in thought. And I quickly took my leave.
It turned out awkward.
In the living room of Charles Xavier's mansion, one of the walls was illuminated by a ring of fire, through which a young bald woman descended to the floor, wearing a robe somewhat reminiscent of the robes of Tibetan monks, but not exactly the same.
"Vik! Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you!" said Suo, and naturally it was her.
It was at this moment that the "freeze frame," as I called this state for myself, worked once again.
Everyone in the room froze in exactly the same position they had been in when my wife appeared, and I had a wonderful opportunity to enjoy the expressions on their faces.
What can I say? It's funny. But a bit too aggressive, in my opinion: Raven had already pulled out a blue Walther PP from the blue concealed carry holster she imitated with her ability, just as she imitates clothes when transforming. (I'll have to give her a PSM for a holiday in a couple of years; I remember it was supposed to be adopted by the USSR in 1972. I think she'll like it. The ammo is harder to get, but it's significantly smaller, and it's no less legendary than her current pistol.) Eric extracted about fifty grams of metal from his "scaly armor," which he never stopped wearing after the war, and stretched it into a cone-shaped icicle-needle. Logan simply unsheathed his claws, Frank braced himself for a jump, and Charles touched his head with his right hand, as he did when he was about to make an accentuated use of telepathy (a parasitic habit, in my opinion).
And then Pietro showed up. He tried to steal my wallet again!!! "What a jerk. And life hasn't taught him anything!" I thought, tying the laces of his sneakers.
Having finished with this, I returned to my place and began to wait for the "freeze frame" to end.
Time has moved on.
Pietro's nose plowed the floor and he lay there, breathing heavily, against the wall. He didn't seem to have broken anything or even been seriously scratched. About ten seconds later, he vanished again, accelerating.
"I left a note on the table, didn't I, dear?" I replied to Suo.
— A note? I didn't find anything.
"Darling?" Eric asked, returning the needle to his vest.
"Gentlemen, meet," I said, rising from my chair. "Suo, my wife. And this is Charles Xavier, the director and founder of the School for Gifted Teenagers..."
"Nice to meet you," Charles smiled. Logan snapped his claws back into place. Raven nodded, tucking away the gun she'd never shown anyone.
"Hank McCoy, Doctor of Physical and Mathematical Sciences..." Hank stood up from his chair and bowed gallantly.
"James Howlett is a friend of mine since the war," Logan also bowed (the bastard knows how to be polite when he wants to be).
"Eric Lansher is my brother. Maybe not by blood, but still a brother," Eric repeated Hank's bow.
"Raven is his wife," the blue-skinned lady (and she always wore her true form at school, a Zen nudist! Because of her insecurities, she doesn't notice how the male half of the school drools on the floor just by catching sight of her luscious blue figure... or maybe she does notice and gets a kick out of it, but the moment you hint to her that it's inappropriate, she starts whining just as much as Nicole did as a child) didn't get up, but nodded.
"The kid who just plowed the floor with his nose is Pietro - her and Eric's son," a smiling white-haired boy materialized out of thin air, waved his hand in a friendly manner, and disappeared into his own speed again. "Accordingly, we are in the living room of the Charles Xavier Private School for Gifted Teens."
"I'm very pleased to meet you, gentlemen," Suo said, bowing politely in the Chinese manner. The ring of fire behind her had long since closed, revealing a normal wall once again.
Logan, Hank, and Eric returned to their seats, while Charles stood up and approached his guest. He led her to the table, pulled out a chair for her, and waited for her to sit down.
"Forgive my tactlessness, Suo, but are you a mutant too? What abilities do you have?" he began his questions, probably even trying to get into my head, but something tells me he won't get anywhere: there are plenty of telepaths, and only one Ancient One.
"She's not a mutant, Charles," I corrected Xavier, "She's a mage."
"Or more precisely, the Supreme Sorcerer of the Earth Dimension," Raven revealed her knowledge. "What?" she responded to her husband's surprised look. "I saw her at the Battle of the Dragons. Mages are frequent guests there."
"That's right, Raven," Suo smiled, "I am indeed the Supreme Sorcerer. But more often they call me the Ancient One."
"Forgive me again, Suo," Xavier smiled, "but I find it hard to believe magic exists. Perhaps you simply have a very powerful ability that looks like magic?"
- Charles, will you allow me to call you that?
- Yes, yes, of course.
"Charles, the difference between magic and mutant abilities is vast. I won't go into every aspect, but I'll just point out the most obvious one."
- And what kind?
"Abilities are either natural or not. They are unique to each individual, though they can be very similar in their manifestations," Xavier nodded in agreement with this explanation. "Magic is a science. It can be taught to anyone willing to learn. Moreover, the performance of the same spells will be identical for different people, differing only in power and precision."
"Really?" Xavier mused. "That makes sense. But I still find it hard to believe something I haven't seen with my own eyes."
"If you remain interested in this, I can later arrange for you to take a tour of Kamar-Taj, where my students will demonstrate this clearly.
"I would be extremely grateful to you, Suo," Xavier smiled, "But you said 'students'?"
"Yes, Charles, you heard right. Kamar-Taj is, in fact, a school of magic."
"The most powerful school of magic in the world," Raven noted from her seat.
"Perhaps," Suo did not argue, "But by no means the only one."
"The fact that Kamar-Taj is a school makes this excursion even more valuable for me! Learning from the experience of older students is a wonderful opportunity for development. Did I understand correctly—the Ancient One... is that because of his age?"
"Yes, Charles, you understood correctly. I really am much older than my husband," Suo smiled. "Very much. But for some reason, this doesn't bother him at all."
"I don't care about Zen. You're my woman and that's that," I replied to the jab.
"And, Charles... Please stop trying to get into my head. Otherwise, I might even make the defense active. Believe me, you won't like it."
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" Xavier raised his hands. "It's just a bad habit! I can't seem to get rid of it!"
"Where we're going, you should also keep your 'habits' to yourself," I remarked sullenly, "If you don't want to run into conflict and trouble."
"Are we going somewhere?" Xavier asked in surprise.
"Yes. To the Battle of the Dragons," I declared. "Since Raven told Eric about it anyway, he'll be there sooner or later. And this way, you'll be under surveillance. I'm not forcing you to participate. On the contrary, I highly recommend it, but it's up to you to decide—it's a long speech. It's exhausting to choose the right words for such long speeches. It's exhausting for me. Maybe not so for others, but for me, it's exhausting."
"Are you kidding?" Raven asked, worried. She looked at me carefully. "No... You're not kidding... But, Victor, just because you're a twenty-time Battle Champion doesn't mean it's safe for everyone else!!! They actually do maim and kill there!!"
"He said just to have a look," Suo answered softly, "It will be comfortable and safe from my box."
- What if Eric still climbs in?
- So you're his woman. Make sure he doesn't interfere.
"When are we leaving?" Eric asked, glancing promisingly at his wife.
"Right now," I shrugged, "Suo, will you open a portal for us?"
"You hate magic, don't you?" she asked, surprised, rising and beginning to draw a circle in the air with her double ring.
"It… can be convenient," I admitted, overcoming myself with great difficulty.