Chapter 37
"Victor, glad to see you," Howard offered his hand for a handshake.
"You called, said there's a rough layout," I shook the extended hand.
"Indeed," he returned back to his desk, on which my folder, the one I had brought him, was already lying. It was open. "Come in, take a seat."
"Alright," I agreed and went to the offered chair. Interestingly, it was standing on the same side of the desk as his own chair.
"I have thoughtfully, properly looked through all the data you brought and compared it with what is already in production and in development," I nodded in agreement.
"This," he laid out a dozen sheets from the folder. "Already exists at the moment. Are cutting-edge, non-mass-produced developments, but they already exist," I nodded, agreeing. Not a big deal. If it exists, that's good; we won't have to waste resources on inventing it.
"This," he laid out about another dozen and a half sheets. "Can be implemented as a rational optimization of already ongoing developments with minimal costs, but also with a fairly small return," I shrugged. I didn't even hope that every line of my scribbling would be worth its weight in diamonds. The locals aren't born yesterday either.
"These are wonderful concepts, brilliant ideas, but completely impossible on the current element base," I sighed heavily—this was also expected. It doesn't mean I'll abandon these ideas, but I'll have to put them off for now.
"And what are we left with in the end?" I inquired.
"The element base and logic," Howard spread his hands. "And networks. Also, a brilliant idea with the 'Winchester'. We will try to implement it first—you can never have too much memory."
"Well, that's not bad already. And what about the PCs?"
"According to the engineers' estimates, built on the logic you propose, it will occupy about two such desks, placed one on top of the other. And cost like a luxury pleasure yacht."
"Won't work," I agreed. "The whole essence of the idea is lost."
"So we'll start digging hard into the element base. And right here the question of finances begins."
"How much?" Howard wrote an approximate sum on a scrap of paper and handed the scrap to me. I read it and thoughtfully scratched the back of my head.
"I see this is a problem for you?" Howard became a little worried.
"A problem," I nodded in agreement. "For me alone. I'll need to contact Erik and Charles. Consult, estimate our capabilities. I'll give an answer tomorrow."
"Alright," Stark agreed. "You brought me something else interesting, didn't you?" he nodded at another folder that I had put on the desk at the very beginning of our conversation.
"Yes," I agreed. "Worked a little in my spare time while my wife was getting ready for the restaurant. I'll leave the materials with you, dig around, maybe you'll find something else useful, but I've already caught the general situation."
"I will dig around with great interest. You bring very fresh and original ideas, you know. They develop the imagination."
"Alright, I won't bother you," I got up from my seat. "I need to drop by Xavier's."
"Good luck," Howard shook my hand.
* * *
"Victor, why do you need such a huge amount of money?" Charles asked. Hank, Erik, Raven, Xavier, James, and I were settled around a round table in the living room, sipping freshly brewed green tea. And Charles was just examining the scrap of paper I had brought.
"Remember I told you about the future of mutants once?" I answered a question with a question in a Jewish manner.
"I remember," he agreed. "You also promised to kill me then."
"A little before that phrase," I smiled. "But a little after the words about creating a school."
"Remind me," he sighed. "It's only for you and Logan that ten years is not a long time, but for us mortals, it very much is."
"I'm reminding you, and you yourself should have encountered this already. Where will your fledglings go after School?"
"Well, practically all my 'fledglings' are in colleges right now," Charles shrugged.
"And after?"
"They will try to find a job, integrate into society..."
"This right here is the job," I demonstrated the piece of paper to him. "Stark Industries Corporation, the controlling stake of which, by the way, belongs to Erik and me."
"Let's assume so, but what do such sums have to do with it?"
"I initiated the start of a new large-scale project there, into which your young talents can be successfully fitted. And there will be a place for Hank and Erik too."
"Do you think that in my current form, I can blend into the general work in a huge corporation?" Dr. McCoy skeptically raised his furry eyebrow. His mutation had gone so far that he had become that very canon furry blue Beast, despite all his and Charles's efforts.
"That's the whole trick, that I am starting to develop exactly the technology of remote work. Information networks and means of communication. You don't have to be present in their laboratory personally. You can work in yours, but communicating with colleagues in real time."
"Sounds tempting," Hank scratched his chin.
"But this is very big money even for me, Victor," Charles shrugged.
"Let me see," Erik reached out for the paper. Charles gave him the sheet. "Indeed, the sum is not small. But if I take up the extraction of precious metals, and you take up their realization, using your connections and abilities, then in five or six months, it can be collected."
"We'll crash the metals market. The price will fall. It's dozens of tons."
"Not a problem," I smiled unpleasantly. "We can create a deficit."
"How is that?" Erik grew alert. He knows me better than anyone present, after all.
"I'll rob Fort Knox or the Federal Reserve. Or blow up something highly radioactive there," I shrugged.
"And how exactly will you do that?" Charles chuckled.
"Somehow managed it in '39," I shrugged. My secret about the ability to teleport had remained a secret all these years. The only two people who possibly guess about it are Nicole and Suo. The first, because she has the ability to organize surveillance on me and compare my appearances at my brother's with my apprenticeship in Japan. And draw conclusions. But for certain, even she shouldn't know. And Suo... If she knows about my adventures with Stalin, then I won't undertake to say what else she could have peeped through her "window." As for the rest, I didn't give them a chance to uncover this trump card of mine.
Everyone immediately became serious after such a statement of mine.
"Don't do it, Victor," Xavier requested softly. "They will suspect mutants first of all. Claims from the authorities will arise. Unnecessary questions."
"Convinced," I shrugged. "Offer your option."
"We will think about it, Victor," Erik answered.
"Just, not too long. Or else, without any beating around the bush, I'll steal the gold from the state, melt it down, and sell it right back to it! And shit on the consequences."
"Don't swear in front of the kids," Logan grimaced.
"Sorry, James, slipped out," I immediately felt embarrassed.
"And who are the 'kids' here?" Erik inquired. I looked at him reproachfully. "Alright, got it," he sighed. "For you and the clawed one, we are all still kids here."
"Just don't be offended," I put my hand on his shoulder. "You grew up right 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 the year '44 - '45 the allies would have recaptured the camp. And you were too important a prisoner to be allowed to die before then."
"'43 and '45—a gigantic difference," he noted.
"I don't argue," I agreed. "So will you give the money, smart guys? Yes or no. Or else I have to discuss the start of research with Howard tomorrow."
"We will," Charles sighed. "But I still don't really understand what you need this for."
"Consider it a whim. I'm bored. Morihei died. So I decided to move science forward," I shrugged.
"You'd be better off going and fighting Bruce Lee, since you're bored," Logan shrugged.
"With who, with who?" I asked again with a suddenly hoarse voice.
"With Bruce Lee," he confirmed that I hadn't misheard. "He's a young master from China, acting a lot in movies right now. Considered a superstar. Developing his own style. Took Cap out in sparring recently."
"Bruce Lee!!! It can't be! I can see Bruce Lee himself!!!!" my face at that moment must have been terrifyingly childish. But what can you do, the opportunity to see a legend with your own eyes. That very Bruce Lee, whose movies I used to binge-watch in childhood. That very Bruce Lee, with whom my passion for martial arts began. None of them even remotely understand what this name means to me!
"Why are you suddenly so fired up?" Erik was surprised.
"It doesn't matter," I waved it off, pulling myself together again.
"You better tell me, who is this?" he put a newspaper on the table. A newspaper with my photo. In which Suo and I are walking arm in arm to the entrance of the New York Opera. And naturally, Erik's finger was not pointing at me.
"Suo Lehnsherr, my wife," I shrugged, as if it were a matter of course.
"Since when?" he clarified. And I cast an attentive glance over those present and understood: they all gathered here only to find out this question. I only called Charles and Erik, after all, but when I arrived at the estate after my call asking for a meeting, they were all already there.
"About a hundred and thirty years, probably," I shrugged again.
"But how..." Erik's eyes bulged. "And 'Holland'?..."
"There was no Holland, Erik," I sighed. Sooner or later this had to be revealed. So why not now. "And there were no prostitutes. Since the day we met, Suo has been my only woman."
"But then why?..."
"Didn't want you tagging along with me to the Arena," I sighed.
"The Arena?" Charles was surprised.
"The Dragon Arena—illegal fights of mutants, mages, vampires, werewolves, and basically anyone willing whose powers exceed ordinary human ones," Logan explained. "With a sweepstake, naturally. A very dangerous place. I was there only once, and I'm alive only thanks to my survivability. There was no question of winning there at all. The Battle of Dragons is also held there once every five years. It's a kind of world championship among supers. Next year, by the way, it will take place."
"Honey, don't even think about poking your nose in there!" Raven requested softly, but very firmly, turning Erik's head towards her.
"Why?" he was surprised. "I am strong."
"Strong," she agreed. "Of course strong. Very strong. But, honey, there is always someone stronger. And your body is quite human. An accidentally missed hit—and you are a cripple for life. If not dead altogether."
"And she's right, Erik," Logan noted. "They usually carry people off the platform in pieces there. Not always, but very often."
"You clearly know something," Erik looked carefully into his wife's eyes. She looked away. "Alright," he gave up. "We'll talk at home."
"Tell us about Suo, Victor," Charles changed the topic. "How did you live like that, that even your sworn brother didn't know anything?"
"That's how we lived," I shrugged. "She minded her business, I minded mine. Whenever she missed me, she came to me."
"In what sense? How did she come?"
"Right into the room," I cut off. This conversation was starting to tire me already. My relationship with Suo—is only my and her business. No one else's. "Now we are together. And enough about this," I said a little harsher than I would have liked.
"Apparently a very unusual woman," Charles emphasized the word "unusual" with intonation and chuckled. "Is she the one you robbed Fort Knox with?"
"No. I did that alone," growling notes began to break through into my voice on their own.
"Okay, okay!" Charles held out his palms in a defensive gesture. "I'm not prying anymore."
"Never mind us," Erik chuckled. "Fury reads newspapers too, after all," the growl somehow began to subside.
"So, what about the 'fledglings'? Call them to Stark Industries?" I changed the topic.
"Call them," Charles decided. "Just try not to scatter them too much across departments. The kids are used to holding on to each other..."
And at that moment IT happened. Time froze. The world around froze. Just stopped. All at once. Except for me.
I looked around in bewilderment, trying to understand what was happening. But I didn't understand. No matter how hard you crack, I didn't understand.
Charles froze with his mouth half-open, mid-word. Erik froze, not having brought the cup to his mouth. Hank hung mid-movement (he was rocking on his chair out of habit)—it turned out funny: a huge blue-furred beast with a serene look balancing astride a chair standing on its two hind legs. Logan froze with his hand raised to his chin. Raven—listening to something.
And one more, previously unnoticed character froze with his hand in my pocket. Pietro Lehnsherr, a nine-year-old kleptomaniac—the little son of Raven and Erik. Quicksilver in all his canonicity. Dashes wherever he wants, without any control, at a speed an order of magnitude exceeding the speed of sound. More precisely, no one really knows the limit of the speed he is capable of developing. Consequently, no one can keep an eye on him. Oh, and the parents have suffered enough with him...
And he also has a little sister. Named Wanda. Thank the gods, her powers haven't awakened yet. Pietro's woke up not so long ago either—less than half a year ago. Ever since then he's been dashing around like a madman. Can't get enough of it. A child, what do you expect from him?
But, Zen with him, with Pietro! What about me?
The world stopped, after all, and didn't start moving. Even the steam over my teacup froze in immobility. I looked closely at it—a mesmerizing sight. It became even more mesmerizing when I let go of the cup and it remained hanging in the air. Amazing... I, as if hypnotized, looked and looked at this miracle, first from one side, then from the other.
And suddenly, the cup crashed. Naturally, splashing all its contents on me. And according to the law of meanness, right on my pants. And the tea, by the way, is hot. It hurts!
"...other," Xavier finished the word.
"What's with you?" Erik was surprised, looking at me, wet and dumbfounded.
I patted my pocket. That's right, it didn't seem so.
"Pietro swiped the wallet," I justified my embarrassment. No need for everyone to know about such strange fits of mine.
Especially since I'm beginning to guess what's causing this to happen to me.
Hank passed me a towel, which I accepted with a grateful nod and began to dry myself off.
"There, the petty kleptomaniac," Erik sighed tiredly. In the next minute, Pietro flew into the living room. Through the air. In an iron "string bag" made of thin chains.
"Well, daaad," came displeasedly from him. "Now what?"
"Give Uncle Victor the wallet back," Erik said calmly.
"But why always me?!" the contents of the "string bag" grew indignant. "Why, as soon as something goes missing from someone, it's immediately Pietro?!"
"Because in a hundred out of a hundred cases, it really is Pietro," Raven replied tiredly, rising from her chair and pulling the sought-after wallet out of the back pocket of the boy's shorts.
The girl gave the confiscated item to me and returned to her place.
"Well, mooom!"
"Don't 'mom' me, you little thief. When are you going to stop doing this finally, huh? Maybe give you to Uncle Victor for training? So that he would pound a little brains into your little criminal head with his pood fists and birch rods?"
"I'll run away anyway," the kid pouted.
"From Uncle Victor?" Raven skeptically raised an eyebrow. "From him, like from death, even if you want to, you won't run away."
"You are exaggerating, Raven," I was slightly offended. "There is no need to make a scarecrow for a child out of me. I am not that scary at all. And generally a very kind uncle."
"Whatever you say," she surrendered too quickly and easily, which was extremely suspicious. "But in that case, you wouldn't refuse to teach our wayward little son martial arts a little bit? You are a master of four of them at once, right? After all, you are kind, aren't you?"
"How do you even live with her, brother?" in slight shock from her proposal, I addressed Erik. "That's not a woman, that's a moray eel!"
"Don't, Victor," he disagreed. "Raven is good. Don't offend her."
"I won't," I sighed. "But Pietro is better off training with Logan for now. He will set him a general physical base and a strike. And he doesn't need more with his speed."
"Just say you don't want to take it on, since your wife has arrived, you henpecked husband," Raven teased me again.
"Why am I henpecked?!"
"Honey, enough," Erik requested calmly and covered her hand lying on the table with his.
"But, Erik," she still didn't calm down immediately. "He really will run away from Logan."
"He runs away from Logan, I'll return him and hang weights on him, so he won't make a habit of it," Erik shrugged.
"Doesn't anyone want to ask my opinion?" the contents of the "string bag" grew indignant. "I am not a thing after all!"
"When you stop misbehaving, we will be interested in your opinion too," Erik replied calmly. "And for now, hang there and keep a low profile, since you got caught."
"Alright," I slapped my knees, getting up. "It's good with you, but it's time for me to go."
"Victor," Charles stopped me with his address. I turned around. "Introduce us to your wife sometime, won't you?" and there was so much mischievous fun in his eyes that I really wanted to slug his smug face... But I just nodded. And silently left, waving goodbye to everyone.