Chapter 13: The Law of Entropy

"This is the excellent foppery of the world, that when we are sick in fortune, often the surfeit of our behavior, we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars; as if we were villains by necessity, fools by heavenly compulsion." –Shakespeare, King Lear

"I'm sick of your stalling." Norman Osborn was pacing his private office; his voice was deeper, darker, cold and clipped, more Goblin than Osborn. "How far along are you in catching the clone?"

"Cypher places the clone with her genetic template. Look, Mr. Osborn, shit happens. Some things even the CIA cannot control."

"But my money—"

"I'm not interested in money. My only interest is national security."

"You should be, Agent Carlyle. It's my money that developed the Oz Formula! It's my money that funded the development of the remote manipulator arms! It's my money, in the form of income taxes, that go to your employer! It's my money that funded 'Project Octopus' in the first place—"

Carlyle cocked his revolver and pointed it at Osborn's chest. "Can all your money protect you from this?"

It was all Osborn could do to suppress a snicker. Yes it could; if his superhuman healing powers could restore his bodyas good as new after Parker impaled him on his own glider, he saw no reason why he couldn't recover from a mere bullet wound. But, unlike the supervillain rival who wore his powers on his back, he didn't need a long coat to conceal his abilities.

But then Carlyle saw the auburn-haired, strangely silent baby girl sitting solemnly in a high chair, right next to Norman's desk. Osborn had apparently been feeding the baby when he walked in; the half-full bottle was still on the desk. Carlyle holstered his revolver. "Then again, I'm not going to shoot you in front of your baby daughter. It might make her grow up to be a murderous, vengeful super-villain, and God knows we have enough of those to go around."

"There is no God," Osborn said. "Humanity is the highest there is. And if there were a God, He would hate that clone of yours because of what she is, an affront to all that He is. He would snuff her out and throw her in Hell."

As the saying went, if you wanted something done right, it was best to do it yourself.

"Ingrid," Osborn sharply addressed his nanny, "I shall be out. You will look after Noreen while I am gone."

Octavia sat on the bed, staring at her hands in anguish. Her thoughts swirled rapidly inside her mind.

I almost killed him. One swipe with the tentacle and I'd have taken his head right off his shoulders. Or I could have popped the blade out and run him through.

I held myself back. I only broke his wrists. But I could have killed him. I would have. And I would have liked it.

But he hates my father.

Yes. Not you. Spider-Man has no issue with you.

But aren't people supposed to defend their family?

But he's not family. He's not your father. I don't know why you stopped yourself.

Because killing people is wrong.

You are the creation of man, not God. God's laws may not apply to you.

At once, the thought startled, and unnerved her. There was a time when she wasn't afraid of anything. Then there was a time when she was afraid of her own government. Now, it seemed what she feared most was…herself.

Peter Parker lay prone on the couch while Mary Jane splinted his arms and ankles. She began winding them with bandages.

Thank the good Lord I took CPR classes in college…

"I cleaned out all the bloody goo and dressed your wounds, Peter. I still don't see why you don't go to the hospital—"

"Here we go again. I told you why. Two words: secret identity."

Mary Jane's cell phone rang. It was Osborn. She rushed outside, out of her husband's earshot.

"Any news?"

"My husband told me that Octavius had figured out how to make himself invisible—some kind of holographic cloaking device. Peter showed it to me, he brought home a—"

"Bracelet?"

"Yes, how would you know?"

"It would place him at the Convention Center, at the International Science and Engineering Convention. I like to visit those sort of things myself sometimes, not nearly as much as Octavius, he can appreciate them far better than I, heh heh."

"But wait, my husband fought him at the Oscorp laboratories. He was stealing tritium."

"Good Lord, that again? And?"

MJ fell silent. She was blackmailed into this distasteful job, but she was not going to allow Osborn the pleasure of knowing her husband lay wounded on the couch.

"Don't mess with me, Mary Jane. I will carry out my threat." She hung up just as Peter walked outside.

"How are you feeling, tiger?"

He grinned. "Better. There are some uses to an enhanced metabolism, after all. How are the kids?"

"I'm going to tuck Ben and May in right now."

But Peter wondered what would make his lovely wife look like the stars had just gone out.

At Pier 56, on the East River, the mad scientist calling this place home was putting the finishing touches on his brand spankin new radiation ray.

"Octavia, hand me that metal support, please."

The clone used her tentacles to pick the huge girder up. But suddenly, her knees buckled under her and she collapsed to the ground.

Otto rushed to the girl and put his hand on her cheek. "Good Lord, you're burning up! How'd you get so sick?"

He knew exactly what to do. The ray was all but forgotten. The villain picked up the daughter who was not really a daughter at all, and abandoned the project.

Peter Parker unwound his bandages. His wrists and ankles were working nearly perfectly now. Unfortunately, his spider-web producing glands would not recharge until about twenty-four hours from now. His cell phone rang.

"We've got a lead on him," said Agent Cypher. "Meet me at the Empire State Building, if not sooner."

"Cypher, my wrists are healed, but I won't be able to shoot web until—"

"The scientists at the SDSI-CIA lab have rigged up a pair of mechanical web-shooters for you after I explained what happened. We were able to construct a basic triggering device using synthetic polymer. Not the real McCoy, but they'll co. How are your wrists working? Can you climb walls yet?"

"All better. Nothing like enhanced healing to cure what ails you. I'll see you there."

Then he kissed Mary Jane goodbye, not a peck on the cheek as he had often done lately, but a full, long kiss on the lips that seemed to last forever.

"I have to go squid hunting now. And after this is through, maybe we'll take a long vacation away from scientists, mad or otherwise, or super-villains, or government agents—"

"Just go do what you do. Go get 'em, tiger." Mary Jane watched him speed off on his motorcycle. "God, protect him," she whispered. "I love him so much."

Ah, where's the fat freak going now? The Green Goblin lowered his glider a little closer. As he saw it, he could wait for the bug and the agent to deal with him, but according to his sources, they were injured fighting the squids in his lab. So, he could do it himself, take the clone to Carlyle, and get his money.

What was the clone to him? An experiment; government property Uncle Sam wanted back. And her model—well, the old man was competition.

The Green Goblin slowly drew a pumpkin bomb from his bag, but thought better of it. They wanted the clone alive. He slipped it in his bag again.

It was going to have to be hand to hand. Well, hand to arm.

"My source has informed us that he is trailing Octavius down this road—" Cypher traced the line on the computerized map of the car's navigational system.

Spidey had a sudden realization. "He's heading for Phoebus General Hospital!"

"Why?" asked Cypher blankly.

Why is Octavia so sick? Who will win the battle between Spidey's two archenemies? Will Cypher get her man? Find out in Chapter 14, the next thrilling installment of Nature Versus Nurture 2...coming soon!