Chicago, Illinois

James Price stood in the waiting room of the Cussler Research Center. His time may had arrived.

It had been long since he had last dreamed of this accomplishment.

He could still remember those days when things of this level seemed possible. Back before he was young. Of course, after he had hardened enough to wish for such things.

In his tweens, he had planned and conspired the idea. He had tried to find followers, for back then, that was the only way. They had refused, of course, as he could have foreseen today. Yet, even in those ancient days, he was able to bend his words in such a way that many believed in his thoughts. Though, they were most likely wishing to believe his intentions were apart from how they sounded.

In later time, he had traveled the word. Feeding on and exhausting the money he had worked his whole life to obtain. With some success.

Some success which may insure the plan he was laying out as the seconds in the waiting room ticked on.

Yes, it was success today. Though he hadn't seen it's potential for many years. When he traveled the world, he managed to collect a few, yet very few, followers. When gathering people from around the planet, his appearance as idealist had strengthened and the belief of madman had naturally lessened. He had obtained seven-teen of them in truth, though nine had tired of his plots and moved on out of his vision. But the eight remaining, oh, they had been loyal.

Over the years he realized what he wished was impossible. He had looked for other ways, but he knew none could prevail.

But then, two things happened at the same time.

Something on masquerade used unhuman powers to preserve safety.

While another "thing" attacked with seemingly no purpose yet could not have been human. It's strength had proved it.

But what if he could obtain such abilities? It was a dream, yet a realization that this could be a way to seal what he wished.

For months he searched, theorized, and spied. Trying to find out how a man, if they were human, could be capable of such powers. The brutal attacker had vanished. Killed by the other, he suspected. The other, which went threw the streets of New York City, could shoot a strange substance from it's wrists. He had tested a piece of it only to find that, it didn't quite match any known species, but was still incontrovertibly... spider silk. This opened so many doors than it closed, it was impossible for him to see the way out.

But then it was not two years later when something else came. A man who had managed to control artificial limbs along with his own arms. But he knew very well he would never be able to afford such things. But he still kept a sharp eye around. Looking for another to do the same.

Then, three years after was when everything shot into full motion.

A thing, similar to the mindless attacker from five years ago, appeared. But seemed to work with the city's defender, the being with spider silk.

A similar being to the one with spider silk appeared. But battled against the one he resembled.

And, just before all of them, was his favorite of them all.

A man that would break his own structure into small fragments yet regroup unharmed. Powerful. Yet not killable.

That was the time when he had realized what was happening and what could be done.

When the first of these super-humans had arrived, it was followed by one who opposed him. Both sides had their own chance to fight.

In less than five years, six of these "things" had come to being.

It was obvious a new line of power was stringing itself. Once one came, more followed.

And more would surely follow after that. If he looked, stretched out his grasp, he may find a way to become one of these "super-humans". And, perhaps, speed the time it would normally take.

That was what he was here for.

He was told Mr. Cussler would allow him in and was given fifth-teen minutes to ask questions for a newspaper he worked for.

This, of course, was not true.

There was no newspaper. All he had done was say he worked for the Chicago Record and they allowed him in without further inquisition. For no one else understood the potential of what could be done with what they had. He only needed to make sure before setting out the stages of his plan.

He went threw five minutes of his tim, being explained the technical behavior of it.

"What interests me," Said Price, "Is how it reacts to other matter around it."

He was told of how it reacted to iron, copper, many acids.

Ten minutes.

He needed to know what it was capable of, even if it broke from his acting.

"How does it react to things below it?" He inquired, "As in, not as strong. Weaker."

"Well," Said Cussler, "We speculate it would form some kind of matrix. But it wouldn't really be of any difference from what is today. Whatever it blinded with would only become the Kambaldaite. The other substance wouldn't remain in the slightest."

"And this matter, it is far, far stronger than others of it's kind found."

"That is why we intend to heat it. It will cause the molecules to merge closer and slightly alter. And, yes, it is a new kind found in a trench far off the coast of Australia, yet still near enough to obviously be related to it's fellows."

"And this stuff has no nickle in it?"

"None at all. And I'm afraid I will have to let you go, I'm a busy man."

Cussler retreated from his chair and approached the door.

Price got up, too, and made to exit the building. But first asked another question.

"If the crystals were to bond," He asked, "With a lesser substance, wouldn't the thing it took form of still function, in a certain way, as it did before?"

Cussler turned to him, with an amused smile, seeming to believe Price thought he could persuade him into changing his own project.

"Yes, in a certain way, Mr. Price, but there is no reason in wasting our money for senseless amusement."

And retired from the room.

Price brooded on his thoughts for a long time. Everything was perfect. Better than he could have imagined. Far better. But everything had to take place perfectly. Absolutely perfectly.