The Trickster apologizes for the delay, caused by computer crashes and a chapter revision.
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Chapter 12: Blasphemous Rumors, by Otto Octavius
"I don't want to start any blasphemous rumors
But I think that God has got a sick sense of humor,
And when I die, I expect to hear Him laughing..."
Depeche Mode, "Blasphemous Rumors"
Suddenly, the boy changes his mind. He would respect our wishes to have a private ceremony, an elopement, with the vows of matrimony witnessed only by God.
Why is he changing his mind now?
Possibly because his girlfriend Felicia is in the cabin bathroom heaving?
Or maybe he's on to me...
I tap the bracelet. I can't believe it's already going on the fritz. I'm surprised a mere prototype has lasted this long. But it just can't go out until the minister says I may now kiss the bride. I perform more percussive maintenance.
The minister begins. "Ladies and gentlemen," he addresses the catering and construction crews, since Peter and Felicia are absent— "we are gathered here in the presence of the Lord and our community to witness the joining of May Parker and Oliver Octavius in holy matrimony. For the Lord said of Adam, 'It is not good for man to be alone; let us make a helper for him,' and Eve was created then out of Adam's rib. And Adam said of Eve, 'She is now bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh'. Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall be of one flesh."
"If any person here has any reason why this woman and this man should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."
Then all my worst fears are confirmed. Peter Parker, in his Spider-Man guise, runs to the gazebo, his voice ringing through the island. "I object! I object! May Parker cannot be allowed to marry this man!"
The bracelet breaks and falls to the ground. I react before I think, no longer aware that May is still at the altar. It's one thing for the arachnid aberration to ruin my experiments, dash my dreams, but to disrupt my own wedding would not be tolerated.
"Spider-Man," I say. "What a pleasant surprise, and how unexpected. Are you here to meet single wedding guests?"
"Do I look like Vince Vaughn to you?" the bug retorts. "I knew you were up to no good, but this is insane!"
"What is Spider-Man doing here?" May asks, still clutching the altar.
He offers a lie. "Peter Parker called me up to stop this travesty. Ma'am, he's just a gold-digger out for your uranium mine!"
"Oliver, is that true?" May rounds on me.
"Maybe at first!" I desperately cry. "But after I knew you better, I discovered that I had truly loved you all along! The reactor means nothing now!"
"Oh and by the way," Spider-Man continues, "his name's not really Oliver, it's Otto—Dr. Otto Octavius, sometimes called Doctor Octopus! You've met him before, haven't you?"
"You lied to me!" May yells.
"I was ashamed to tell the truth! You would have never loved me otherwise!"
"You should have trusted me!" May takes off the ring and throws it at me. I catch it, and run. On the tentacles this time, racing toward the facilities. I wanted to blow it up, prove to May that I loved her, not Rosslyn Island.
"He's getting away!" I hear Black Cat cry behind me.
"Tell me something I don't know!" Spider-Man yells. "He's heading toward the reactor!"
"Take me to him!" May screams to Felicia. "I can't just leave him there!"
Does she still love me?
"He's gone!" Felicia shouts. "He's already at the reactor!"
"I'll look for him there!" the Spider tells her. "Maybe I'll catch him by surprise!"
Luck, however, is on my side. I'm already waiting for him, at the Rosslyn nuclear reactor as he had guessed. "Welcome, Spider-Man! I've been expecting you here!"
Now comes the insipid banter the bug is famous for. "Forewarned is four-armed, huh, Doc?"
"Unfortunately for you," I reply, "that quip is destined to be your last!" The tentacles twist, flying towards the villain and coiling around his wrists. He merely wriggles free, grasps the arms, and yanks me forward, throwing me to a corner. "Perish the thought," he says, "I have material I haven't even used yet!"
Ah, Spider-Man, the last comic swinging. "Ten thousand unemployed comedians in New York City," I yell, "and you're looking for a job!"
It doesn't unnerve me, though. I would be dead now if I hadn't learned to land on my feet and not give up after a few hits. As I land on my tentacles, their pincers catching me as a cat lands on its feet, the bug's hated voice shouts, "Why does a spider cross the lab?"
A tentacle reaches for the nearest piece of debris. Unthinking, it hurls it at the bug, provoking even more imbecilic quips. "Easy there, I'm supposed to deliver the punchline!"
"Silence, insufferable clod!" I want him to shut up. "I shall hear no more!"
"Or what?" he taunts. "You'll stick your fingers in your ears?"
"No," I say, picking up another piece of concrete. "I'll shove this down your throat!"
He leaps out of the way of the flying concrete. "You missed! But you sure didn't do that equipment any good!"
I glance at the equipment panel, smashed. It can be fixed after the bug leaves me alone to claim it. "Run while you can! I'll catch you sooner or later and that will be the end of you!"
"If I have a choice, I'm awfully partial to later!" He twists out of the way of the tentacles—for the second time, I almost had him! "Hold still, blasted cretin!"
He stops in his tracks in front of me. Then he shoots that nasty web. When he does that, it almost looks like he's spitting on you, or worse—disgusting. The only way it would be more noxious was if the web came out of where it does on real spiders.
He missed, web merely landing on a shelf above me. "So, you have decided to stay and fight!" I look up at the shelf. "A pity you are so scared you cannot even aim your cursed spiderweb accurately."
"Yeah," he says. "Imagine my chagrin!"
The next thing I remember—and I am fairly certain things happened to Spider-Man before that—is water splashing on my face. "What in Heaven's name are you doing, Spider-Man?" I shake my hair dry. "You should have fled when you had the chance! You will not get another!"
Spider-Man sounds desperate, even solicitous as he squirms in my tentacles' python grip. "Ock, wait! You don't understand!" He points to a display, counting down from twenty-nine seconds. "The reactor! Look at the reactor!"
"What?" I look at the display and drop him. "What have you done?"
"Nothing you can't undo—I hope!" he cries. "I never thought I'd admit this, but I need you in the worst way!"
I scramble for the controls and start entering the old codes. The countdown continues: 10—9—8— "Hurry, Doc!" Spider-Man urges.
"Many thanks, moron!" I yell at him. 7—6—5— "If that reactor goes, we go with it!"
"So does most of the Eastern Seaboard, including New York!" 4—3—2—
"I care nothing about this town, Spider-Man, or you!" I yell, racked with despair over what could have been. The codes don't work. A tentacle tears off an instrument plate. "But the world must not be denied my genius and—I might as well admit it—I must save May Parker!" I pop out the tentacle's blade, and cut the main power line.
One.
The countdown stops, and I almost regret sharing my epiphany. As for that ingrate Spider-Man—
"Some genius, Doc! You almost killed us!"
"Because of your interference, idiot! You wrecked my lab, shattered my dreams, disrupted my wedding, chased away my love, but never again! Do you hear me! I will see you dead, Spider-Man, for your compound wrongs, here and now!"
My second attack is stayed by Felicia's voice behind me. She now wears a mask, a black catsuit trimmed with fur.
Felicia is the Black Cat?
She has grabbed May, holding her in one arm while the other glove sprouts electric claws. "Don't move, either of you."
"May!" we both shout instinctively.
"Do you think I went to the wedding for the refreshments, Spidey?" she asks. "No, my employer pays me quite well to retrieve things he wants."
"What do you want, Cat?" I ask her. "Just let my bride go."
"What do you mean, your 'employer'?" Spider-Man asks.
She sneers. "My employer requests two things: that Spider-Man surrenders himself to Inverness penthouse in Manhattan, and that Doctor Octopus surrenders the technology funded by his company and still his property."
"You work for Osborn?" Spider-Man asks. "But how—Harry's dead!"
"But Norman's not. You didn't quite manage to kill him, did you?" She holds the claws closer to May's throat. "Now, come on. Both of you seem attached to this old bag, for some reason beyond my humble intellect."
"Leave that lady alone!" I growl.
"Don't you dare hurt her!" Spider-Man cries.
We scuttle up from the ground at the same time. Spider-Man attempts a desperate move, spurting webbing at Black Cat's face, blinding her. She still has May in a headlock, right hand attempting to pull the web off, a futile effort from my prior experience. But the clawed hand lowered to May's chest—
—but before the hand can move, the tentacle blade ran through Black Cat's black heart.
May collapses to the ground, but I catch her with a tentacle, easily lifting her up onto her feet. Her eyes flutter open. "Now that you know who I am," I ask her, "does this make us even?"
She averts her eyes, and does not reply.
Just another day in the life of Otto Octavius, called Doctor Octopus.
