The Marvelous Spider-Man
Chapter Twenty Six
By
Jason Richard
Peter found himself in a dark room, the only thing visible being a light bulb above him. He was lying spread eagle on a concrete floor, and he couldn't move no matter how hard he tried. By looking at his outstretched arm he found that he was still in his costume, but his mask was off. He didn't like that one bit, but being unable to move left him unable to do anything about it. All he could do was make a small, throaty noise that sounded vaguely like human speech.
"Is somebody there?" he asked hoarsely.
Dmitri appeared over him, his white face uncovered.
"You," said Spiderman. "The…(cough)…doppelganger…."
"Doppelganger?" asked Dmitri, amused. "A fitting name I suppose, but I prefer to be called The Chameleon. Doppelganger just sounds so unprofessional for a spy. Anyway, how are you feeling?"
Spiderman struggled to speak with whatever this Chameleon had injected him with.
"How…did you get on…on the…"
"On the shuttle?" asked Dmitri, surprised, and then he started to laugh, slowly at first, and then more intensely. "Me? On the shuttle? Hidden with the astronauts? I'm flattered that you could think that, but I'm not like you and Kraven. I deal in subtlety and subterfuge, not strength and agility. No, I could never have gotten onto that shuttle the way you did."
"Then how…"
"Simple," said Chameleon. "I had men working on the shuttle's flight plan from the beginning. Originally its orbit would only bring it near the Empire State building a single time, but after your boarded that changed. You were to pass that building three times now. Considering this, and the fact that this particular building was instrumental in getting aboard the shuttle in the first place, it was simply logical to assume that you would use the building when you got back down…and I was right. All I had to do was wait for you there, and when the crowd scattered to escape the falling pod cluster, no one noticed one more astronaut make his way to the scene and lie down with the others. A simple plan, but effective…no?"
Peter felt his heart sink. It was simple. Less simple that Peter's plan had been anyway, and yet this Chameleon's plan had gone off without a hitch, while Peter's had just barely succeeded. Peter knew he still had a lot to learn about this whole superhero business…but he had to wonder if he would ever have the chance to learn it now.
"So…" said Peter, a little less hoarsely than before. "What now? Use me to make an army of spider soldiers?"
"Something like that," said Dmitri. "But not by me anyway. I'm just a mask for hire really. All I have to do is deliver you to my employer so he can run his experiments on you and…yes…probably make an army of neogenic soldiers. At least, that was what I was going to do…for reasons I cannot fathom my employer has decided that a sample of your blood will be sufficient for his work."
Dmitri pulled a vial filled with blood out of his suit.
"You should count yourself lucky. Men in his world often have their business in mind more than anything else, and it is rare that they should put anything ahead of that."
The Chameleon put the vial back into his suit and began to walk away.
"As for your identity, don't worry, I won't reveal it to anyone else. I, of all people, know how to respect a man who wears a mask. Farewell for now, Spider. I have a feeling we shall meet again."
A moment later the lights went out, and Peter found himself in darkness before falling unconscious again.
….
Norman Osborn watched the laboratory from the sterile safety room high above. Below him, behind five inch safety glass, the scientists worked on his latest product. He had a stern expression, which he felt appropriate. After all, the scientists were now working on what was probably the most important scientific field in the modern world.
Neogenics.
"I have arrived Mr. Osborn," said the Chameleon behind him.
"Welcome Dmitri," said Osborn, still watching the lab below. "I'm pleased. The blood sample proves promising, as do the flower samples we managed to obtain. Kraven's serum and Spiderman's blood. Two examples of spontaneous neogenics available to me now. You did well."
Norman turned around to see Chameleon, and was surprised to see a white face. Then he realized that it wasn't the Chameleon's normal face, but a white mask that resembled it. Unlike his usual masks it didn't resemble a face at all. This one was obviously made of cloth and could be easily identified as a mask.
"Why Dmitri," said Norman, puzzled. "When you requested, for your services, surgery to give yourself a normal appearance, I assumed that you would put this image behind you."
"Not at all," said Chameleon, amused. "I enjoy the notoriety this image gives me. The point of having a normal face was not to have a normal life. Not by any stretch of the imagination. However, even spies have private lives, no matter how hard they try, and it is difficult to live that life when you are this easily recognizable. When it comes to private lives masks only get you so far. I am the Chameleon, after all, and a normal face, to me, is just another way to blend in. Of course, even if that wasn't the case I would still need to hide my face until the scars healed. I did just finish the surgery an hour ago, after all."
"I see," said Norman, pouring some wine from a nearby table. "And yet you're standing here as if it were nothing." He chuckled. "You're a tougher man than you seem Dmitri…and a very interesting one as well."
"Thank you sir," said Chameleon, accepting a glass of wine from Norman. "But now that I've answered your question, would you answer one of mine? Why did you decide you no longer needed the Spider whole?"
After taking a sip, Norman replied. "Well, it is true that a dissection would have yielded more information than a blood sample alone. However, the addition of the flower makes that no longer necessary. At least, that's what I've told my staff. As an ex spy, I'm sure you could tell that I was lying."
"Naturally," grinned the Chameleon, taking a sip of the wine.
"The truth is," said Norman. "The identity of Spiderman changed my mind."
The Chameleon looked puzzled. "What does this Peter Parker have to do with you?"
"Didn't you know?" asked Norman, matter-of-factly. "He's friends with my son."
"Really?" asked the Chameleon, amused. "Are you really telling me that you couldn't bring yourself to harm this Parker boy because he's friends with your son?"
Norman laughed. "You make it sound like I'm going soft, but the truth is more complicated than that, I assure you. It really about connections. One of the ways I became as rich as I did was by making connections with the right people. Harry needs to learn this to, and someone who is a hero in the public eye could potentially be of use to anyone who had the mind. As a father I would be ashamed to take such an opportunity away from him."
The Chameleon frowned. "I suppose as a father you aren't ashamed to not teach him such lessons yourself?"
"I had to learn on my own," said Normal casually. "And so must he. He won't get anywhere with me babying him. Why do you ask?"
Why indeed, thought Dmitri. After all, he was a spy. Why should he care about another man's son? Even if their relationship reminded him of the time he spent with his own father, long ago.
"Just curious," smirked the Chameleon. "Oh, by the way, a private face is something I would like to keep hidden, so I would appreciate it if the doctors who worked on my face are…taken care of."
"Naturally," said Norman. "Don't' worry. By this time tomorrow you will be the only person who knows of the Chameleon's true face. It's a shame though, they do their work so quickly and efficiently. Still, only the best can be used on the best. Right Dmitri?"
"I couldn't have said it better myself," Chameleon replied.
The Chameleon bowed after finishing his wine and took his leave. Norman then turned around and walked over to a table with a potted flower; the kind of flower used to make Kraven's serum. The flower in question was blue, with red marks reminiscent of blood veins. Norman took a sniff of the flowers aroma. It smelled like a flower mixed with blood.
It is a beautiful thing, this flower, thought Norman, and so is the Spider's blood. I'll be sure to use them both well.
He grinned.
….
Peter had woken up on a rooftop, completely abandoned. Groggy and disoriented, it had taken him a while to remember what had happened. Once he remembered he still couldn't make any sense of it. Why had this Chameleon just left him like that? Was this whole thing really just about a sample of his blood? Strangely enough, he was certain Kraven had wanted more than that, aside from his psychopathic need to hunt people.
There was more to this than met the eye, but he didn't have time to worry about it.
Peter walked home through the neighborhood slowly, trying to think of how he was going to explain all of this to Aunt May. It was pretty late in the afternoon, so Peter had been gone for far longer than he knew he should have been. Fortunately it turned out that he had only been unconscious for a couple of hours, so it wasn't as if Aunt May had called the police for a missing person. Still, the conversation he had ahead of him was probably going to the hardest thing he had ever done in his life.
It made the prospect of fighting Kraven again seem trivial by comparison.
He was almost home, and he was still dreading what was to come. He was also dreading trying to explain things to Gwen and harry, but that would have to come later. Difficult things are best done one at a time so you can manage them.
Another good piece of advice from his Uncle Ben.
He reached the front door and waited. The lights were on, so he knew Aunt May was home. He tried to think of what he would say to her, but nothing seemed adequate. Everything he thought of sounded like an excuse, and he just couldn't deal with that. All he could do was tell the truth. He took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped inside.
This is it, Peter thought.