Issue 4
New York City, NY --- Empire State University
”You’re lucky she only grounded you for a week!” Gwen Stacy shouldered open the glass revolving door that led to ESU’s Biological Studies Lab. Peter shrugged behind her, adjusting the strap of his bag.
“Yeah. I figure she’s only letting me off the hook now for Connors’ sake.” He pushed through the cold glass. It’d been months now, but still, every time he entered Connors’ lab, his eyes went wide and his heart throbbed in his chest.
The forefront of science. It made him think of when Ben and May had managed to scrape enough money together to take him to Disney World, bounding through the boulevards and trying to see everything he could. He had fixated on Tomorrowland, seeing some spectacular vision of the future carrying humanity off and beyond. And here? He could
make that future.
Hanging rows of interwoven greenery spread through the lab in a vast web, each little island of pots and soil seeming to reach out for the others and wave. Rows upon rows of lizards and assorted life danced in glass cages that lined the walls, feasting and sleeping, while little mechanisms dumped endless gigabytes of biological feedback through microcomputers Peter had rigged. Lines of epoxy resin tables marked the path up and down the lab, each scuffed with memories of little lab accidents, all stacked high with readouts and precarious racks of test tubes. But dominating the room was something new -- it was a massive, black crate, marked with hazard lines and projecting the steady hum of a cooling unit against the linoleum floors. There was a rush of lab coats around it, as Mrs. Connors and Michael Morbius prepared cooling of their own, a container likely pilfered from the Medical Department, lined with gadgets and gizmos and a healthy supply of Connors’ formula.
The doctor himself stood towards the back, firmly pressing his
daily comic strip to a battered bulletin board with one hand, while his hard plastic prosthetic jerked the fine nub of a pin in wide circles around the comic, trying to attach it without skewering himself.
“Doktor, the children have arrived. May we begin?” Morbius didn’t look up from his work as Peter trailed behind Gwen into the lab.
“We still need everyone coated up, Mich--” Connors turned from the board, his eyes were green, and they lit with excitement.
“Peter! Great of you to come!” He waved with his real hand and the comic dropped, pinwheeling to the ground. Connors sighed and shook his head, but his eyes betrayed his smile as they came up to meet Peter.
“You know me, Doc. Only so long I can sit around.” Peter pulled his lab coat off the hook, still splayed with stains from his first and last attempt at using the centrifuge unsupervised. It was almost a badge of honor, now.
”Are you sure it’s no hassle for you to be here, son?” Connors weaved around Gwen as she passed to talk to Mrs. Connors and Morbius, holding a pair of tremendous goggles in his hand.
“No trouble at all. Gotta come back to work sometime, right? It’s been a few weeks, and science stops for no one.” Peter accepted the thick plastic lens and pulled them over his head, pushing back his hairline.
”What’re we up to today?””Well, while you were gone, Michael and I heard back from the review board -- we’ve finally received a grant! This is the first batch of stem-cells!” Connors gestured to the black crate.
“Doktor Connors insisted we wait for you before we open it, Parker.” Morbius’ thick Eastern European accent floated across the lab. He leaned back against the countertop, strands of black hair dropped across his head and he swept them back.
“Don’t keep us waiting.”Lovely manners Morbius, they teach you that in Markovia, too? Peter bowed his head and stepped in beside Gwen. Dr. Connors whirled off to his office as Mrs. Connors tended to final preparation on the crate, beginning to cycle down its internal power supply.
“Did Doc Connors say we’re getting rid of the lizards? With the new stem cell direction, and everything?” Peter asked Gwen as his eyes flitted away from the box of stem cells, back to the cages embedded in the otherwise placid white color of the wall. They idled in their cages, picking at the faux scenery and nibbling at the scraps of food automatically dropped to them.
“Why do you ask? Still afraid they’ll bite ‘cha?” Gwen grinned at him, playing at gnashing her teeth.
Peter rubbed at a tiny scar at the base of his pinky finger.
“...No.”“Well, there’s no sense in depriving them of a good home. Besides, we don’t really need the space.” Mrs. Connors said. She pulled a clipboard from the side of the crate and began double checking it against a list she held in her other hand.
“I just thought that Doctor Connors would -- er, Curt -- uh, I mean, Mr. Doc Connors would --” Peter’s words came out of his mouth faster than he could catch them, but Mrs. Connors laughed and waved it off.
“They’re a little part of the family, now, like you kids.” She said. Across the lab, the thin wood of Doctor Connors’ office doot swung open, and he stood in the frame, holding aloft a small key like a holy artifact, his blade to seal the darkness. Morbius rolled his eyes and leaned back, crossing his arms.
“Mine eyes can but weep as they bear witness to the majesty… The Big Key 9000.” Peter whispered. Gwen smacked his arm and chuckled softly, it was a sharp, melodious sort of laugh. Peter leaned back against the counter as Connors made his way to the crate.
“Everyone ready?” His smile was wide and his eyes were alive with color, as he propped the lock up with his prosthetic.
“Ready when you are, Doctor Connors.” Peter said.
“Here’s to the future.” Connors said. The key pressed into the lock.
“To the future!”***
“Ju kan’t just inveynt a de-liv-a-rey mekan-ey-sim like zat, Doktor Conn-ors.” Peter rolled his shoulders and pumped his eyebrows as he swung the tails of his labcoat around as a great cloak.
“For I am ze great Morbius! Science Wizard!”“It is just as zey taught me in Markoviaaaa!” Gwen could barely get through the line. She laughed with her whole body as Peter wiped the tears out of his eyes and tried to steady himself enough to take another bite of his food. Their little nook was a section of lab table, cleared of assorted microscopes and tubes to make way for bag lunches. Morbius had left to get outside food, undoubtedly mumbling something unflattering about
the chill-drun as he left, while the Connors idly chatted in Curt’s office.
“Oh, man. Do you think that guy ever asks himself how much Markovia is too much?”“He’d need a hint of self awareness for that. The real question is how Connors puts up with him.” Gwen tucked her hair back behind her ears. It was getting long again, Peter noticed.
“The man’s a saint! The Bob Ross of science.”“I wouldn’t go that far, Mr. Parker.” Connors office door clunked close as the man himself stepped out. He’d taken the prosthetic off now, the arm of his coat was folded up to his side.
“And humble!” Peter said.
“Is lunch over now, Doctor Connors? I still need to set up my station, and --” Gwen was already collecting her lunch and sweeping food debris off of the table.
“Oh, no, Gwen. Uh, Martha was actually hoping to speak with you, in my office?”“Oh, um. Sure. Right away.” Gwen scooped up her lunch and nodded to Peter, skirting around Connors and making her way to the lab. Connors sat in her stool as she left, and it seemed to take a great weight from his shoulders as he sat. He propped on elbow up on the table.His joints creaked as he moved, and Peter saw the wrinkles already starting to appear on his face. The only sound was the soft trills of the lizards. Connors cleared his throat.
“Actually, I was hoping to speak with you, Peter.”“Oh.” Peter said. He swallowed.
“If it’s the Morbius thing, I--”“No, no, nothing like that. That’s just how kids get, sometimes. I actually wanted to thank you for coming in today.”“It’s no problem at all, Doctor Connors.”“I just don’t want you to feel obligated to--”“It’s fine, Doctor. Sometimes things just… Happen, I guess.” Peter shrugged.
“I suppose so, Peter. Uh, otherwise, Martha’s telling Gwen in there, but I thought I would let you know that Martha and I have a little one on the way, now.”“Really? That’s great, Doc! Congratulations!” Peter could practically hear Gwen’s squeals of excitement from the office as he shook Connors’ hand.
“We’ve known a little while, but we thought maybe you kids would like to know.” Connors said. He shifted in his seat.
“And, you should know, I’ll be just as available to you as a mentor. If you need to talk--”“It means a lot, Doc. Really.” Peter’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
“Sorry. I think I need to take this. My Aunt.”“Hello? Aunt May?” Peter answered.
“Peter? It’s Ben, he’s --”“Oh, God--”“No! Peter, he’s waking up.”
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