Chapter 3: Rumors and Kidnappings

Austin Smith walked to his first period AP English class. Even though he enjoyed science and math most, he was a bona-fide genius who excelled in all his other subjects. Normally, as a card-carrying geek, the throngs of sheep like students now making their way to various classrooms generally ignored him, except when something bad happened to him. Then they would laugh.

Today was different.

Today people whispered and pointed at him in the hallway.

"Is that him?"

"Do you think it's true?"

"He does look like him"

"He always was a weirdo"

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree"

But when Austin looked to see what they were talking about, they averted their eyes…

Second period. AP Physics. Austin finished his assignment well ahead of everyone else. He always was good at science, and he never needed the book; it was enough to listen to what his teacher, James, said. Austin didn't really know where he got his talent in science from. None of his family was interested in it. Anna was interested in history and law, Laufey was interested in Shakespeare and literature, and Magni…well she was interested in Tobey Maguire.

Austin pulled out a copy of Popular Science. James looked up. He knew his star pupil was already finished. The kid's brilliant, he thought. He'll win the Nobel Prize someday.

Austin's reading was interrupted by a hoarse, mocking whisper from the guy in front of him.

"Hey! Hey, Octopus Junior!"

Austin looked up. "Yeah?" Although just what he had to do with octopuses was beyond him. He hoped Rachelle and Magni didn't tell anyone about his stupid dream about the skyscraper-climbing octopus.

"Ah! So you are his bastard!"

"Are you calling me a bastard?" Austin asked, his temper rising. "And what the hell is with the octopus stuff?"

The kid smirked. "Read something besides Popular Science sometime. You might learn something." With a very ugly laugh, the kid handed him a tabloid.

Austin read the headline: "Doc Ock's Love Child: Tentacled supervillian may have fathered son with one night stand."

Austin leafed to the article. There was a copy of his yearbook photo, along with a picture of his alleged father. Austin could see the resemblance; the man had his eyes, mouth, chin, and messy brown hair. According to the article, they also shared an interest in science—the man was once a famous nuclear physicist.

But there were some things they did not share.

The man in the article had four long metal tentacle-like arms, with razor-sharp pincers at the ends, attached to his back.

And he had a criminal record.

Austin came home from school with a tabloid under his arm.

"Mom, we need to talk."

Anna shifted in her seat. She knew very well what her son wanted to talk about.

"Who is my father?"

"I've told you. Your father was a man named Jake Winthrop. He left me shortly after you and Magni were born."

"He's a deadbeat," Laufey added. Jake Winthrop was indeed a deadbeat dad—which explained why the family was usually hurting for money.

Austin slapped the tabloid on the table, not mollified. "Then explain why this magazine claims my father is a man named Dr. Otto Octavius, who you had a one-night stand with."

Anna turned an odd shade of off-white, swallowed her root beer the wrong way, and launched into another fit of coughing.

"What's there to explain?" Anna snapped when she came to. "That paper isn't fit to toilet train a dog. They see you, brown eyes, brown hair, sunglasses, likes science, no dad at home, and think, 'Oh, he must be the illegitimate son of some mad scientist criminal mastermind.' These—journalists—and I use the term very loosely—make money off this crap. Think nothing of it." She pushed the tabloid back.

"Didn't they have an article in here once about Arnold Schwarzenegger's alleged love child?" asked Rachelle, who for her part refused to believe the rumors. "Austin's a nice guy. There's no way he could be the son of a horrible man like Doctor Octopus. No friggin' way."

"That's the spirit, Rachelle," said Anna, finishing her root beer.

Laufey poked her head in the doorway of Austin's room. She held an envelope.

"Come in, Aunt Laufey."

Laufey sat on the bed. "Can I explain something?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Your mother is in a state of denial. You see, the man she claims is your father, Jake Winthrop, was an abusive man. He was physically and verbally abused your mother—and, er, had me against my will."

"He raped you?" gasped Austin.

"Yeah. Anyway, he told your mother that he had an affair with me, which I didn't, just before she left for her bar association conference in New York. She must have been really smashed--she didn't know she had had sex until she found out she was pregnant. Even then she thought you were Jake's child." Laufey paused for effect. "You need to see this." She opened the envelope and handed the paper inside to Austin.

Austin read the paper. It was a paternity test, and one portion, the most important, was highlighted.

Concerning the child Austin O. Smith, the possibility of Otto Octavius as the father is 99.999999.

"DNA doesn't lie, as you know." Laufey said. "But mothers do, especially if the truth is painful. Jake Winthrop divorced your mother the day after you and Magni were born. He knew you were not his child."

"Wait—" Austin said. "How'd you get my DNA?"

"At your fifth birthday party, I pretended Rachelle had put gum in your hair and pulled out a few hairs on the pretext of removing the gum. You hardly remember that."

"Okay—how'd you get his DNA?"

"I called an old friend of mine. I won't tell you who he is, only that he and your father go way back, and he went to the same college I did. He was lecturing in my photojournalism class. Man, some of the best memories I have were from Empire State University…"

"So you knew?" exploded Austin, interrupting Laufey's reverie. "You knew ever since I was five and didn't tell me until after I read about it in the tabloids?!"

"I'm sorry, Austin! I told Anna about the test, and she didn't even know who he really was until I told her! I wanted to tell you earlier, but Anna forbid me to! She said it wasn't a big deal!"

"Laufey, I think finding out your dad is a convicted mass murderer is a big deal!" Austin grabbed his jacket and pushed past his aunt.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

Austin was at the Elsinore Mall. He was at first bewildered at the small groups of children costumes, parading as devils, witches, pumpkins, ghosts, and everything else. The he remembered—it was Halloween night. In the ruckus about his paternity, he had forgotten.

The doctor sat down at the food court table at the same mall, rather gingerly. The tentacle, while having many virtues, made even simple things like sitting in a chair complex. The scientific conference wasn't starting for another two days. This was the nearest New York City-Elsinore flight he could get, and even then he had to submit to having his tentacles wrapped in five layers of duct tape by airport security before he could even go.

Father?

What now? The doctor thought. Can't I even have a coffee in peace? You were lucky I figured out how to cut that duct tape off.

Father, you need to see this.

Not now. I'm trying to think.

It is imperative that you read this.

The tentacle lifted a tabloid from the adjacent booth. It slipped it down on the table for its master to read. Before he could read it, though, the tentacles' attention was diverted.

Spider-man! They hissed.

The approaching man was indeed in a Spider-man costume.

Relax. It's just a Halloween costume.

What's Halloween?

You are such an idiot! It's when kids dress up and ask for candy!

I'll explain later.

"Nice Doc Ock costume, sir," the man said. "It's very realistic, especially the arms."

What an idiot.

"Thanks," Otto grunted. He returned to the tabloid and read the headline: "Doc Ock's Love Child: Tentacled supervillian ma have fathered son with one night stand."

He read the article and saw the photo of a young boy who had his eyes, mouth, chin, hair, and obsession with science. He had a son? Here in California? Who was his mother? After all, not every woman wanted a roll in the hay with a tentacled mad scientist.

You're not mad.

She could be that Anna woman. In the bar, fourteen years ago. The lawyer from California. Remember?

I had sex with her? I must have been drunk.

Fortunately, the tentacles knew what drunk was. They had seen their "father" drown his troubles at the bar countless times.

Yes. You were very intoxicated.

We should look for him. This love child.

What's a love child?

Well, if you don't know, I'm not telling you!

Yes, he thought, a smile playing around his lips. I should look for him.

Austin sat down at the food court, too lost in his own thoughts to notice the man across the room sipping a coffee, his tentacles now hidden under a black leather trench coat.

My life sucks, he thought. The jocks beat me up, the girls are ignoring me again, and I just found out from the gossip sheets that a criminal mastermind is my father. Can life get any worse?

The tentacles wound themselves around Austin's legs like boa constrictors, and when Austin found himself being hauled away, he realized that yeah, his life could definitely get worse.

Before he knew it, Austin had been carried into the back parking lot.

"We're just going to have a little talk," said his father.

"What's with the tentacles nearly squeezing me to death if you just want to talk?" Sure enough, three of the arms were holding him tightly. A fourth was hovering around the front of his pants.

Austin shut up. As bad as being kidnapped was, it was preferable to the Lorena Bobbitt treatment.

"Where is he, Laufey?" Anna shouted. "He should have been home by now! No note, no call, no—you were the last one to see him! Where is he?!"

"I asked him where he was going!" retorted Laufey. "And he just said 'out'! Stop treating me as the enemy! I care about him too!"

"He could have been injured, he could have been killed, he could have been kidnapped—"

knock knock

Anna opened the door. Two police officers were flashing their badges in the doorway. It was always two. It was on all the TV shows.

"Don't tell me he's—"

"No, we're pretty sure Austin's not dead, Mrs. Smith," replied the older detective. "However, we do believe he has been kidnapped."

"Well are you going to find him?" asked Laufey.

"Who did it?" asked Anna.

"We don't know. That's why we need your help."

"I know! I know!" cried Rachelle. Her favorite show was Law & Order. She was overjoyed at getting to help with an investigation, kidnapping of her beloved cousin notwithstanding. "It was Doctor Octopus!"

Laufey and Magni burst out laughing. Anna went into another coughing fit.

"Seriously," said Rachelle. "Officers, isn't it true that a viable suspect must have means, motive, and opportunity?"

"Er, yeah," grunted the younger detective.

"Well, I think that horrible man kidnapped my cousin, and here's why."

Rachelle took out the tabloid that had caused so much trouble. "First, the motive. This tabloid claims that Austin is his son. Maybe he wanted to see if it was true, talk to him, but Austin didn't want to, so he got kidnapped!"

Rachelle then took out a newspaper. The headline read: "Elsinore Prepares for Scientific Conference." "Now the opportunity. Elsinore is hosting this big scientist meeting. Maybe he was invited to come, he was once an eminent physicist. Or maybe he was going to steal some scientific equipment and decided to have a family reunion on the way. From the tabloid, he knew his alleged son was in Elsinore."

"Very good," the older cop said, impressed. "But what about the means?"

Rachelle shrugged. "He's a supervillian. If he needed money, wouldn't he just take it?"

The cops whispered among themselves. Then they said: "Let's get down to the station. Oh, yeah, the brown-haired girl should consider a career in law enforcement."

Somewhere over Nevada, a green and orange helicopter was hovering in the night sky. Inside the helicopter, a tentacled supervillian was trying to explain himself to his long-lost son.

"Look, I didn't know you even existed until a short while ago," Otto said. Numbers and formulas were his strong suit. Words, emotions—fatherhood was not. "You know, I always wanted to have a family with my wife, until she died. Now that I've found you, we can be a family."

"I have a family, thank you very much." Austin snapped.

"I just want to talk, to know what we have in common—"

"Not a hell of a lot."

"—what you believe, what you're interested in. I want to know my son." He attempted to hug his son, but Austin was decidedly unreceptive.

"Get those slimy things off me!" Austin pushed the tentacles away.

Finally Otto had enough. "You should respect your father."

"Why should I? Do you feel you deserve respect?"

Otto thought for a while. After all the things he'd done, no he really didn't.

Anna, Laufey, Rachelle, and Magni were now sitting in a private office at the Elsinore police station.

Chief Leeann Taylor, a sixth-generation police officer, strode in.

"I've never seen this before. Let me get this straight. You're saying a evil genius supervillian kidnapped a boy because a tabloid claims he's his son? Can't be too smart."

"He is," said Laufey. She felt that her failure to tell her mother and nephew the truth had resulted in this. "I've got the paternity test."

"May I have that?" Chief Taylor asked, taking Rachelle's newspaper and tabloid, and Laufey's paternity test.

"Harrison!" Chief Taylor snapped to a nearby lieutenant. Harrison came running to his boss' desk. "I want an Amber Alert," she ordered. "14-year-old Austin Smith, 6' 2", 175 lbs, brown hair, brown eyes, last seen wearing a gray t-shirt, blue jeans, and sunglasses, suspected abducted on Halloween night by his non-custodial father, Otto Octavius, 5' 9", 245 lbs, brown hair, brown eyes, last seen wearing black trench coat, black slacks, black gloves, and sunglasses. May be heading for New York City--Harrison, are you writing that down?"

"Yes, ma'am," confirmed Harrison.

"Oh yeah—" Chief Taylor paused. "The suspect should be considered armed and dangerous." Taylor nervously chuckled at her little pun. "Okay, people," she ordered, "I want posters, a spot on Channel 3 news, whatever you can get. Get up!" She directed this at two pot-bellied cops sitting down eating donuts. "No one takes sick days, vacation days, you don't even eat a donut around here until the District Attorney's son is found, you hear? This case is top priority!" She looked around at the officers goggling at her. "Well? What are you waiting for? Doom?"