"David,.Peter.-.Spider-Man.2" - читать интересную книгу автора (David Peter)“You’re a genuine hero,” said Otto. “Going there, to a war zone overseas,
patching up soldiers… then losing an arm to mortar fire. That was a hell of a thing you did.” “Yup… a hell of a thing that ended my career as a surgeon.” Connors said it lightly, but Octavius could tell there was still sting there. “But I went where I was needed, Otto. And molecular biology has been a fascinating field… the students have been just phenomenal.” “Anyone with a future?” “A few. One in particular. His name’s Peter Parker. Brilliant, but lazy. If he can ever get his mind into his work…” “Ah, well. Young people.” Octavius shrugged. “More often than not, they have their heads in the clouds.” Spider-Man swung in a dizzying arc that snapped him around the Flatiron Building and into the middle of Broadway. He fired another web-line, and another, swooping from one side of the street to the other. Pedestrians pointed and shouted,“Spider-Man!” People were yanking out their cameras, but he was confident that by the time they managed to get him in their viewfinders, he’d be gone. Even after all this time, he had to admit he got a kick out of it. What hedidn’t get a kick out of, however, was being late for class. Again. It shouldn’t have been a problem. He’d left plenty early, but then he’d wandered into the middle of that daylight holdup, and one thing had led to another and… well, now here he was, trying to make up for the lost time by webbing his way across town. He had his homework and textbooks snug in his backpack, which was, naturally, on Then again, he’d never really cottoned to the term “Super Hero” that the media loved to bandy about. It was too self-aggrandizing for his tastes. As he drew nearer to the campus, he wondered about the special guest to whom Doctor Connors had alluded at the end of last Tuesday’s class. He’d been vague about it, saying only that this “special invited guest” had some intriguing thoughts and theories that Connors was certain would be of interest to the class. Peter had no idea why Connors was being elusive on the subject of the guest’s identity, but he figured the doctor had his reasons. Peter felt a pang of frustration over how things were going in class. Curt Connors had made it clear that he thought Peter had tons of potential… potential, Connors never hesitated to point out, that Peter consistently failed to live up to. Well, Peter was determined to turn that around, starting this very day. No more missed classes, no more being late. It was time to get his priorities in order. Granted, he knew he had responsibilities. He had learned that lesson all too cruelly when, two years ago, he had stepped aside and allowed a thief to escape from the scene of a robbery. He had done so in a fit of pique and with a sense of poetic justice: The thief had stolen from a wrestling promoter who had screwed Peter himself over money owed him. As the thief had fled, the promoter shouted in Peter’s face, livid over his lack of action. Peter had said with the sort of smug confidence that comes with being truly self-righteous, “I missed the part where that’s my problem.” It became his problem hours later, though, when the same criminal—searching for a getaway vehicle to steal as police had closed in on him—had stolen the car |
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