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***
-Police Chief McCormick commented on the latest attack involving a mutant. An entire press conference was held where the head of the New York Police Department shared his thoughts with us.
Pretty much shooting her eyes out from the latest comment, the scandalous presenter shook her mane of black hair, smiling cheekily at the camera. It was as if she was saying that she didn't believe a single word that came out of the police's mouth.
-The unknown assailant has not yet been found, but the police have thrown their best into the case. His days on the loose are numbered, and I'm sure--
-Chief McCormick, Chief McCormick! Police funding has increased year after year. Explain why you haven't done anything about this madman yet.
-We are, right now-
-Did so many people really have to die for the department to act? -Yes. Ordinary civilians, let alone employees?
-Of course not. Just a mutant robber...
-So you're not denying that it was a mutant attacking and robbing people in the middle of the city centre in broad daylight? Maybe we should start looking for other mutants.
-That's--
The police chief wasn't being given any chances. The questions were getting trickier by the minute, and the older man, who had spent most of his life catching small gangs of ordinary people, couldn't give the slick journos a decent answer.
-In other news, there was an unbelievably brazen incident at the National Museum today! A painting brought in for display from England was stolen right in the middle of the exhibition. The Embassy of the United Kingdom has already expressed its displeasure. More details on the evening news.
***
-It's getting a little weird, don't you think? -I don't know.
-Hmm? I don't think so. What's the big deal?
Shrugging, Herman went back to the interrupted process, sluggishly pressing buttons. Sitting next to the graduate student, I shifted my gaze from his tired face to the hunched back of Otto, who was currently assembling some new shit.
I popped a couple of chilli-flavoured bread rings into my mouth and started crunching them furiously, knowing for sure that my companion was getting pissed off.
-Come on, it's not helping. -Yes, it is.
-It will! -Yes, it will! I can see the results. Bam!
I pressed the button and unloaded the entire clip of my machine gun into the enemy's face. There's a disgruntled clucking sound nearby, and Herman himself leans back in the bag chair, practically sinking into the amazing seat. While his joystick dangles from his palm, almost touching the ground.
-Ha-ha! Bang, right in the mouth! You need to study more, student.
-I don't have as much free time as you do.
-Oh, I'm sorry, Mr Smarty-Pants. -Oh. That's why you're sitting with me instead of jumping round the doc's new toy.
-Ph," Herman puffed up and crossed his arms on his chest, not staying in sadness for a long time, knowing that his image of a sad sufferer doesn't work on me at all, as well as on Octavius, "I'm resting before the final stage. The lenses I ordered will arrive soon....
-Oh-oh-oh, at last we can learn something about this super experiment of yours, Herr Schulz.
-Don't do that, it's not enough for me professor, if you start...
-Yavol, Mein Fuhrer. -Yavol, Mein Fuhrer.
-Oh, what are you doing here?-You've got a lot of fun here, and the doc often shows and tells me amazing things... Plus I'm learning from the experts," I play with my eyebrows, alluding to Schultz and his bizarre mentor, "I'm getting used to it. And there's plenty of free food and games.
-I even know which argument is the most important.
-Oh, come on. Like you're not glad your boss isn't a prude?!
-Of course I am, -the warmth in Herman's eyes as he looked at Otto's back was very familiar. It's the same way I watch my parents asleep together on the sofa or Pete admiring the idyll between Uncle Ben and Aunt May," and I'll always be grateful to him. For his help and his involvement in my life.
-Oh, if you were a pretty girl, I'd have you on my chest by now," I wiped away an invisible tear and moved closer to Schultz, wrapping him in my arms, "Come here, my rugged German friend.
-Fuck off, -without looking at my face, Hermann got up from the bag, shaking off his lab coat, -go and help the professor, you joker.
-Okay, okay, don't grumble, tsundere.
I liked spending time with Schultz. He was a good guy who gave his all to his work, often putting Octavius' priorities ahead of his own. A smart guy, full of promise, and I'm sure with Otto's help he'll be able to realise them and create something unimaginable. Already his booth is growing every day, slowly adding new details.
I wanted to look under the tarpaulin, but Herman, who was on the lookout for his prey, never let anyone near the rig. Probably only Otto could quietly see what his favourite pupil was doing, but the doctor, surprisingly, was impressively tactful, and this with his passion for new creations.
Like this, for example. I didn't know where exactly from, perhaps Octavius had licked the government's balls pretty good, but right now on his desk was a prototype of military fabric used for special forces.
Dense, soft, with lots of perks, and received for unlimited use. Apparently, I didn't fully realise the weight of Otto's projects, but the guys from the US Army did and decided to tie the chubby German closer to them. I wouldn't be surprised if one day a model-looking woman would appear in the laboratory and would be delighted with the doctor's projects.
At the thought of Otto's changed fate, I left the younger German's company in the laboratory and stood next to the doctor, watching his new creation. And Octavius did not fail. At the moment he was studying the tissue, subjecting it to a variety of influences. Thermal, chemical, magnetic, mechanical or light. A full array of small devices tormented the smooth scraps of fabric, slowly raising the stakes and bringing the incredible quality and capabilities of the material into disrepair.
-Ya, this is no good, mein freund. I was expecting something unimaginable," lifting one of the samples dipped in acid, Otto tapped the glass with his fingertip, shaking the contents, and before my eyes the matter began to dissolve, blurring into flakes, "too bad, too bad.
-Wow, Doc. It's just like in social adverts, - seeing his incomprehension, I decide to explain, - well, for junkies and alcoholics. It's just like that, where all kinds of stuff goes through your veins.
-Yes? -It's interesting, I'll have to look at it tonight, - having returned the sample to its place, Octavius continued torturing the samples, explaining to me what exactly he was doing and why. The improvised lecture lasted almost six minutes before Otto remembered one important thing, - oh, mein. Sean, please put on a record with music on it, it's easier to work to.
-Of course, sir. What kind?
-Yeah, anything. Anything. They're all good and they remind me of home.
-I got it, I got it," I parodied the famous robots, pulling out a stack of records for an ancient gramophone that was probably still around when my grandfather was born. The rarity was meticulously polished and cared for - and clearly an amateur. There's so much here, and the equipment is up to par.
-Well, I'm a builder after all. I'd be stupid not to fix my favourite thing while I'm building the stepping stones to the future of science.
-That's right.
After shaking out a couple of records, I found a couple of unremarkable copies behind one of the farthest ones. Hidden among the others, they obviously hadn't been used for a long time.
"Ah, I wish I'd learnt German. I hope it's not asmr-porn from the past."
Having put the record on, I give in to the moment, and, like a servant from the old cinema, smoothly running the record around its axis, parallel lowering the tonearm and getting an amazing sound, but only ...
-Was wollen wir trinken sieben Tage lang?
Was wollen wir trinken, so ein Durst.
Was wollen wir trinken sieben Tage lang?
Was wollen wir trinken, so ein Durst.....
After playing the first verse, the record went on, spilling the melody across the lab while I myself stood in prostration, dumbfounded at what was happening.
-Sae-er-er?
-Ya, ya, Shawn? Is something wrong?
The record, that's---My dad used to listen to music from my childhood, but sadly, when he moved to America, he abandoned this glorious tradition that had been in our family since my grandfather's time.
-That's what it was," I stretched my words and struggled to hold back my laughter, looking at Otto in a new way, "and maybe your honourable father was in the army.
-Yes, of course, as many did in those days.
-He was a pilot, wasn't he? -Rechts, he loved it.
-Rechts, he loved his old uniform, he could put it on and look at himself in the mirror for hours. It's a pity he didn't live to see my triumph, I think he would have recognised me now....
-Mmm. I see. Well, I'd love to hear some more of your stories and-- Listen to these great tracks.
-Great. Ah, futherland, you're always in my heart.
***
-Phew, come on, Shawn. It's not that hard," I bounced around like a boxer, shaking my arms and crunching my neck, "you've got a big forehead and you're like a girl. It's a problem to ask a girl to the ball... A week in advance. Idiot.
I was standing in front of George Stacey's house, home of his beautiful, sweet daughter, Gwen. Who I'd been grooming for the past month, reverently bringing her pizza on time and flirting and complimenting her unabashedly and brazenly every time.
My legs were wooden and I didn't even know why more. From the very fact of inviting an unfamiliar person or from the fact that I would finally have a normal conversation with another character of this wonderful universe....
-Well, or the fact that the father of the girl I wanted to ask to prom was pointing a gun at me. Yeah.
Walking from side to side with a bouquet of flowers, I thought over the speech, rehearsing the conversation with Gwen under the perplexed looks of passers-by. Some of them simply walked away from me, while the more savvy ones stayed close by, waiting for the denouement.
I was more rehearsing my speech to George, though, hoping he wouldn't give me a shotgun blast for his blood, or whatever the old cops usually kept at home.
-Sir, good to see you. What a surprise, indeed. It's a small city, New York, wherever you go, you'll meet someone you know," I smoothed my overgrown hair and gave my most dazzling smile, to which the neighbours gathered across the street gave a friendly giggle, "I'm here on a very important business...
The laughter behind my back intensified, and my pantomime continued. For a few minutes I had time to apply different character traits, choosing the best option. Already even thought to address the audience, but the head judge of this talent show gave his verdict earlier.
-I like the smart style better, but what do you think, baby? Although, I'll admit, the cocky and confident one was a good fit, too.
With a squeak, feeling my nerves deregulate, I slowly turned back around, meeting George's laughing gaze as well as Gwen's blazing embarrassment. The girl had her eyes fixed on the ground, afraid to raise them higher, even a millimetre, while the old detective didn't hide his joy and amusement.
-A-am... I, just-
-Well, I've heard all the arguments I can," the lieutenant made a respectful grimace and patted me on the shoulder, after which he swiftly opened the door, going up to the front room, "don't be late, or I'll order the pizza without you.... Although, the main ingredient is already here. Ha-ha!
-Dad!
On that cheerful note, with his boisterous laughter, George departed, leaving us in an uncomfortable silence. But I'm a grown man in a child's body. Well, not exactly a child. And I was more of an old man.
-Yes.
Gwen's quiet whisper brought me out of my prostration and thinking about my own age, both biological and spiritual.
-I agree," she said, clarifying her answer, grasping the bouquet tightly, covering her flaming face with a sly smile, "you could have invited me in a less extravagant way.
-At least your father didn't shoot me.
-That's right," the girl walked past me with a snicker and turned round, giving me an innocent kiss on the cheek, "but don't think it means anything more than that. I don't know you too well yet. Although, I'll admit, this will be the most unusual first date I've ever heard of.
-Indeed. Ah, Gwen, wait.
-М?
-I could use your number and everything to get to know you better.
-Somehow you're in the wrong order," she dictated the numbers to me and flounced away from me towards the door, "is something wrong, do you look surprised?
-Oh, no, no, not at all. It's just that girls have so much in common, it turns out. They just want to go out with strangers to suspicious places late at night.
-You invited someone else?
-Я.. No! It's a joke, you know.
-Ha-ha-ha-ha, I get it Sean, don't worry," she gave me a tongue-lashing as she was almost out the door. Gwen's confidence was coming back in leaps and bounds, and the joke was a load of crap. Work on them, or you won't get a second date.
-Hey, I'll do my best- Wait, how did she know my name?!Apparently, I was being eavesdropped on, because only now I heard hurried footsteps on the stairs, and from the depths of the front room came a woman's voice, interrupted by laughter.
-From the delivery cheque, genius!
-That's right... Best detective in the damn city.
Scratching the back of my head, bowing to all the unwitting onlookers who gave me thumbs up and smiles, I turn the corner, hitting my face on someone's body.
Coordination, martial arts and stamina helped me not to attack the person immediately, but only to leap aside, holding my heart.
-Whoa, Mr Stacy, you could poke someone's eye out like that," I rested my palms on my knees, letting the remnants of fear from the surprise leave my poor body. Too much stress in one day," I said, "How did you even get here?
-The same way you deliver pizzas," the cheerful man jumped up from his seat at my incredulous look, clinging to the rung of the fire escape with one hand and hanging in that position for a couple of seconds without a problem, "Don't look at me for looking old, I'm young in body and soul!
Tensing his muscles, the man showed off his biceps. Seizing the moment, I clapped my hands, encouraging him to continue. Too bad the fun didn't last long.
-Okay, okay. You're embarrassing the old man," Stacey stepped around to the side of me and, putting his arm around my shoulder, led me out of the alley, away from the windows of his own house, "I wanted to talk to you, Shawn.
-Of course, sir. Gwen will be home by eleven.... Half. Ten?
Under George's frown, I finally managed to give the right answer, and then the grip on my shoulder relaxed.
-I see, I don't worry about little things like that. Yeah, yeah. Don't look at me like that, I'm a modern man and I understand how things can end, although I admit I believe in my daughter's discretion, so you're not going to get away with it.
-I see.
-You're not even gonna make excuses? -Yeah.
-What's the point? You were my age too.
-That's right. I'm glad I didn't misjudge your brains," George hesitated for a moment as he led me down a parallel street, then just patted me on the shoulder, "You know, I believe you won't do anything stupid. Besides, Gwen knows how to stand up for herself, but I'm going to give you a little guidance, okay?
Something felt cold, and a viscous saliva began to collect in my mouth. It felt like we were standing at a crime scene at night again, and Stacy was pointing a gun at me again.
-I expect my daughter to be home by ten, a couple of minutes late at most. She should arrive happy and content, full of positive vibes. Talking about a lovely evening and telling me what a wonderful gentleman you are," the police lieutenant, a detective with decades of experience and a Vietnam veteran, leaned forward so that our eyes were level, "but if anything happens to her.... I promise you. I will find you. And I'll kill you.
(A bit of character reveal and everyday life, but the next chapter will be action and noir, hehe.
GG's German words that are not italicised are pronounced snaggily and with an accent.
P.S..
I know that the song Was wollen wir trinken is just a cabaret shout for drinking and that it is a Luftwaffe anthem is just a myth. But I thought it was funny and adds a bit of a plot to the image of Otto not realising who his father really was.... Or does he?)
***
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