"Of course, I don't mind," the elderly telepath understood the necessity of my "business trip." "The only thing I'll ask of you is not to take Laura with you," Xavier's blue eyes looked straight and seriously into my face.
"Well, I don't think I planned it that way," I answer the man with a degree of surprise.
"That's very good," the telepath smiled with his eyes alone, "but, just in case, don't tell her about your trip until you leave the mansion."
- Are you afraid that she will be upset?
"No, I'm afraid she'll convince you to reconsider your decision," Charles's smile now touched his lips.
"That makes sense..." I was forced to admit, after thinking for a second about the different ways the girl would look at me during the process of said persuasion. "Anything else?"
- No. Although I won't deny that I'm a little worried about the tendency that every time you're away for a long time, something very serious is bound to happen, but here I can only hope that this time everything will go well.
- Mmm, actually, that's exactly why I need to leave.
- Really?
– The thing is, I have a rough idea of how this reality works. You see, Charles, there's an opinion that God hates the USA… And no, don't give me that pointed look, I'm serious! I have to admit that lately, whenever there's some kind of crap going on on Earth, nine times out of ten it's happening here. Either a billionaire assembles a suit of knight's armor on a nuclear reactor and starts personally chasing terrorists; or a conflict-free, good-natured scientist turns into the Hulk and inflicts more humiliating defeats on the country's armed forces than they've known in the rest of their history, and with complete impunity, which makes the generals' butts burn even more; or the Asgardian gods fall on their heads one after another; or a racial civil war almost breaks out out of nowhere, and this despite the state's ostentatious policy of tolerance; or inter-universal rifts in space open up; then Fury will be appointed as the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.; then something else. Therefore, I do not want to tempt fate and I will prefer to conduct all even vaguely potentially dangerous experiments somewhere far away from this wonderful country that gave the whole world such a thing as French fries.
"I think French fries were invented in France," the telepath corrected me. "But okay. It still seems pretty weird to me, but let's get back to these 'potentially dangerous experiments', how 'potentially' dangerous are they?"
- In theory, they are generally safe, and the result should be a medicine and a safe X-gene activator. But I don't intend to test it here, because I'm almost guaranteed to get an unbalanced schizophrenic with a subconscious thirst for world domination or the destruction of humanity, for whom this activator will bring out previously suppressed personality traits into the dominant and prescribe the capabilities of God. And not a normal one, but that bruised Absolute that the monotheists invented.
- Do you think this is possible?
- I wouldn't be surprised by anything. After all, there are at least three mutants in this house alone, each of whom is capable of single-handedly bringing about the end of the world for humanity. Besides, I may not look it, but I take science very seriously and I have a good idea of the problems that could arise from insufficient security measures.
– Is it useless to dissuade you?
- Yes, I've already decided everything.
"Okay," Xavier nodded. "Did I understand correctly that Miss Oyama will be going with you?"
- That's right. If it's better for Laura not to be distracted from her studies now, then Yuriko is an adult, however, due to a number of circumstances, she will be extremely upset if I go alone.
"I know this isn't the right time, but before you go, could you clear one thing up about her?"
- Which?
- You're dating Storm, but you're not human and, as I've found out, your views on family and personal relationships in general are noticeably different from those accepted on Earth. I don't blame you for anything, but I wouldn't want to breed misunderstandings in my home. Believe me, Storm thinks so too, she just won't dare say it for a long time.
- Um... - well, as they say, nothing foreshadowed it, and then suddenly a conversation with the girl's worried father crept into our scenario. - I won't deny that Yuriko is a beauty and quite to my taste, but she considers herself very obliged to me and literally swore to hand over her life to me, and this... complicates the process of flirting and general mutual pleasure a little. I mean, if I start hinting to her, she will agree, but this will be agreement not because she herself wants it and I am interesting to her, but because she considers it necessary to fulfill any of my desires. And in general, there is something unhealthy in this, and I still think that after some time she will have an epiphany and return to normal life, because I have no romantic plans for her, - I reassure Charles, trying, however, to express my attitude to the situation as fully and not hypocritically. And as soon as I am sure that the interlocutor has fully understood everything, I hasten to slightly defuse the situation: - Plus, in this film, I seem to be going to the Hero, and we are not supposed to take advantage of the weakness of girls and force them to all sorts of obscenities. But as soon as I go through the arc of the Fall to the Dark Side, then we can see...
"Loki…" Xavier bowed his head forward, and so many things were mixed up in this word and the expression in his eyes…
- Anyway, I'm off! - I get up from my chair animatedly. - My illusion will be here, if anything happens, contact me, - and at this point, before they managed to stop me, I dispelled another illusion.
Well, yes, I didn't go to Charles in person. Personally, I was "packing things" and thinking about what to do with Yuriko on her "business trip". I didn't have any ideas, except maybe to ask for help in selecting candidates. After all, it's not urgent, and my secretary-bodyguard really wants to be needed and useful. So why not "yes"? But Charles is right about Laura - I'll have to get away without catching her eye. The girl is currently having a family reunion, meeting her father and all that other stuff, which is not worth distracting her from. The only problem is that Yuriko is there too, but I need to kidnap her, however, I think the God of Magic can handle such a trifle...
***
So, Russia. No matter how much I subconsciously and quite consciously postponed this moment, I still have to visit there. The history of the local Russia developed almost the same way as in my native world, only with other people in key roles - there was no Yeltsin, no Chubais, no Gaidar, but there were their complete analogues, not always similar in appearance (although similarities were encountered), but absolutely identical in deeds. Something was different, for example, the presence of mutants led to the fact that complete lawlessness in the nineties did not happen, because although there are few of them, there are one or two in a city of a million, and these one or two are quite capable, if you drive them or their relatives to the brink, of slaughtering the entire city administration, the police chief, or the newly minted raspberry jacket along with his entire family and cronies. There were episodes where grateful voters twisted the heads of a couple of ministers, so the appetites of the new criminal government had to be reduced, but, by and large, this only extended the process of the same privatization, but did not turn everything back, because there was no normal organization behind the mutants, and they themselves were not professional fighters and did not always even survive the process of their revenge. In general, on the one hand, this Russia was similar enough to mine that I admitted the possibility of meeting here an alternative me, mom, dad, and so on, but on the other, it was still different enough that a visit there threatened to hit me too hard with a sense of loss. Again, the question of meeting an alternative family of my own was too complicated and multifaceted in moral and emotional terms to easily work out a solution to it, because if I start looking and find someone the same, but... not the same, or find no one at all - in any case, this threatens very unpleasant moments in life. In short, I had a ton of reasons not to even look in that direction. But now I have to... I can't run forever.
Since I was in no particular hurry, I decided to get there "legally", by human means. True, when Yuriko told me about all that pile of paperwork that needs to be collected for a legal visit to the country of vodka, bears and balalaikas, I almost showed weakness and used the Rainbow Bridge. But no! Scandinavian gods do not give up so easily! Only forward! Overcome! In the name of the Spirit of the Hunt! And potatoes! You can't forget about potatoes either, yes. Especially when you are going almost to Belarus!
Well, jokes aside, even though I had a lot of time, was I going to kill a week to a month to beg mortals for their papers and permission? No way. So all the necessary documents and database entries for two unremarkable American citizens just appeared. It's good to be the God of Magic. And then everything was really boring and simple - we threw on an illusion so as not to leave traces of our real appearance on the cameras, bought business class tickets for the next flight from New York to Moscow, and ten hours later we were already landing at Sheremetyevo. During the flight, Yuriko, as the responsible secretary, studied the "English-Russian phrasebook." Not a full-fledged language, of course, but a couple of hundred of the most common words and phrases, so that we could somehow communicate with the locals. As for me... I read Harry Potter. Yes, yes, the adventures of this bruised bespectacled man who needed it more than anyone else are known here, and in order to hide a book so detrimental to the reputation of a serious businessman, I put an illusion on its cover... True, my "fellow plane passengers" looked at me askance when I rolled my eyes at the most stupid moments and said something along the lines of: "You have to be so out of your mind." And no, the fact that the cover now looked like "The History of Aircraft Crashes" does not excuse them at all!
After landing, there followed the standard and equally tedious customs procedure, however, we calmly walked through the "green corridor" and, of course, did not have anything forbidden or declared with us. Well, except for some stock of ancient mystical weapons, a mutagen that can be equated to a biological weapon, and "built-in" weapons... well. In general, we passed quietly and peacefully, and at the exit they were already waiting for us. And no, not some super agents, local heroes or "bloody KGB". There were also no Bear Riders in earflaps, armed with PPSh, a Cossack saber and a bottle of vodka, with a balalaika on their backs. Although Yuriko seemed a little upset about the latter. Everything was much simpler. Taxi drivers were waiting for us. Both private taxi drivers and those from "legal entities," meaning standard yellow cars, no different from New York taxis except for their brand.
- Sit down, my dear! I'll give you as far as you want in a jiffy! - the classic "child of the mountains" didn't exactly rush towards us, but, I would say, "proudly stuck out".
Age "something around forty, somewhere, somehow, maybe", moustache - wow, nose - twice "wow", a gold tooth visible in the smile. Oh, I almost cried from affection and nostalgia, and something like this started playing in my head... on the topic of "Suliko". But my lady, seeing this "miracle" who began to aggressively wave his arms in front of his beloved boss and expressively say something to him, clearly tensed up. Fortunately for the "miracle", he paid almost no attention to the lady herself, otherwise, I'm afraid, no amount of good nature on my part would have saved him. However, this was more my merit, since, when choosing an illusory appearance for Yuriko, I did not hesitate to make her as unremarkable as possible; after all, I needed a minimum of attention on this trip, and not for every man I met to try to dislocate his neck, looking back at my beautiful secretary, and for every woman to hiss about the narrow-eyed people who had come here.
- Before the Four Seasons, I chose one of the best hotels in the city. No, well, why not "yes"?
"Five thousand," the driver named the price.
– Do you know that greed is bad? – It wasn't about money, of course, but you can't just go and not haggle with a taxi driver! Eh, there was something in that, after all, the soulless aggregators with rigidly prescribed rates that have flooded everything… there's no zest in them. They may be cheaper, and the services they provide are, in theory, of higher quality, but there's no romance or adventurism. The Spirit of the Hunt doesn't approve.
- Givi has the best price! For you, as if you were my own, four!
- I pay with dead American presidents, a hundred. At your rate, that's three and a half somewhere.
- I swear on my mother, you'll cut it without a knife! Go away! - Of course he wouldn't agree, even so the price was about twice as high, but whatever... - Need help with Nesta's luggage?
- No, we are light. Let's go, - the taxi driver nodded, and we headed to the car. I was already mentally ready to see the "shahid-mobile" that had sunk into my soul back in my mortal days, which only the most desperate people could get on, but no. We are not living in the nineties, after all, and the highlander's war horse was a very clean and well-groomed Toyota. Not a luxury model, of course, but it could well be called something like "comfort class".
The road from the airport to the hotel took a good two and a half hours. What can you do - the airport was located, as it should be, outside the city, "seasons" - in the very center of the city, five minutes of leisurely walking from the Kremlin. And that means ... traffic jams. Lots of long and tedious traffic jams. Well, yes, just recently in the same time we covered more than two thousand kilometers, and here - we can't crawl even thirty. The taxi driver, however, was not discouraged and chatted incessantly, of course, with the radio turned on, playing something national on the speakers. In general, the guy turned out to be a treasure trove of useful information, if you know what and how to ask. I wasn't very interested in the places where love or drugs were sold, I already knew the data on the general state of the "civilian part of the country", although it is, of course, better seen from the inside, but I'm unlikely to learn anything radically new here, but just listening to what they say in the city, and the local tales - that was valuable. Not so much in terms of facts, but in terms of the atmosphere, and I sincerely enjoyed it. We parted with the taxi driver, happy with each other. He - with a good income and the fact that he was able to "swindle" a greedy tourist, albeit one who spoke the language. I liked the atmosphere itself.
"So, Yuriko," I said to my assistant, admiring the illumination lighting up in the evening twilight, "I'm setting a task for the next day!"
"Sir?" She raised an eyebrow questioningly.
- Let's rent a nice room for a couple of days. Preferably with two bedrooms, but I'm not sure I'll be sleeping on this trip, so you don't have to worry about that and take what you personally like. After that, we'll settle in and start getting information about soldiers discharged for health reasons over the last twenty years. Any ideas?
"The archives of the Ministry of Defense," Yuriko answered after thinking for a moment. "I don't know how it's organized here, but in the US, that's where such information is stored, as is the list of retired officers."
- Hmm, written off to the reserve... - I related the terms. - Yes, that will do too. In general, the range of tasks is approximately as follows, optionally you can visit a couple of sights, but that depends on your mood.
"Okay, sir," the girl nodded seriously.
- But first, the room and check-in, let's go.
There were no problems with renting a room - only two and a half thousand evergreen presidents - and the royal suite, proudly bearing the name of Prince Pozharsky, was at our complete disposal. Two bedrooms, a marble-finished bathroom, a private sauna, an additional room for guests, a reception hall, and a view from the window - Red Square, Manege, Alexander Garden and the Kremlin. There was also enough free space - the room occupied a good quarter of the seventh floor of a rather large hotel, and such trifles as full access to the hotel spa, restaurants, billiards and other means of entertainment were not worth mentioning. And there was free Wi-Fi, yes. And the ability to call the concierge at any time of the day or night with any desires. In general, it was quite possible to stay for a couple of days. Yes, some advantages of the "victory of capitalism" are obvious, in the old hotel "Moscow", on the site of which this monster now rises, there was nothing like that. True, an engineer from somewhere in the provinces could afford to stay in "Moscow", but here and now... hmmm. Oh well, give the serum to the right guy, give him an armored car, and... factories to the peasants, land to the workers, ice cream to the women, and flowers to the children. The main thing is not to mix things up!
In fact, we tackled this issue the next day. Alas, the ubiquitous digital had not yet reached the old archives that contained the files of old people no longer needed by anyone in the new state. And although the rows of shelves with boxes containing piles of paper folders, and all this under the inimitable aroma of a knowledge repository, inspired warm nostalgia for my beloved homeland, manually sorting through all of this did not give me any pleasure. Naturally, this quickly led to attempts to find a workaround, and it was even partially found, but digging through the brains of employees turned out to be a little simpler and more productive than studying paper information carriers.
But he who seeks shall find!.. I said about a week and a half later, looking over a stack of personal files on the comrades who interested me. A dozen and a half people - the last representatives of the "correct" generation. Honest officers, brought up on the ideas of solidarity and building a better future, from those who "don't take bribes, I feel offended for the country." Actually, for most of them this became the cause of trouble - there he didn't close his eyes, here he asked for a sold column of recruits that fell into an ambush by "spirits" during the Afghan war... Ordinary and banal stories of honest people who simply could not join the "new society" designed for consumption and buying and selling everything and everyone, the main thing is to find the right payment.
There were also a few really old men who had once walked from Moscow to Berlin. But unfortunately, they had to be discarded - their organisms were too worn out, they would hardly survive the mutation, not to mention that even I am frankly scared at the thought of what a retired intelligence officer-saboteur, who sometimes lived in a dugout for months on the grass, could do if he received Spider-Man's powers. No, maybe nothing bad will happen, but this is the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and it might even come to the thought "Skull was right, fuck this world, heil Hydra!" It's unlikely, of course, more likely such an old man would shoot anyone with "heil G..." before he could finish speaking, but... well, fuck it. Besides, this didn't eliminate the issue of a worn-out organism, and spending a lot of time and resources on recovery... I'm not a kind idiot God who gives everyone happiness for free and so that no one leaves offended. And the experiment wouldn't be clean then.
In the end, after two more days of personal verification, I settled on one candidate. And so, in a state of distraction, I studied my volunteer. Mironov Aleksey Sergeevich, fifty-four years old. Former senior lieutenant, volunteered for a "hot spot" because of "duty to the Motherland" and "protection of people." Excellent in combat and political, excellent performance... and one of three fighters who survived an ambush set up by Afghan militants on a convoy with reinforcements. Concussion, post-traumatic syndrome, shock... and many other things were written in the conclusion of his case, when he simply went and shot a staff "suitcase" who sold out conscripts for a pack of bucks. The case was hushed up then - it somehow miraculously got to a normal, as strange as it may sound, special agent, who simply let it slide... or maybe he didn't want to bother and drag out all those shitty schemes that were being spun at the time - after all, it wasn't just soldiers that were being sold there, but warehouses, almost completely. Be that as it may, the lieutenant was written off "with a black mark", but they assigned him a pension, yes. Such that he wouldn't die of hunger... right away. So now this elderly man lived on his "home plot", feeding himself from the vegetable garden and the forest. Why he lived - he himself didn't know, no wife, no children, no real friends, except for a couple of the same "retired" ones... from those who hadn't become alcoholics. He hadn't believed in the Party or the government for a long time, but... he was a communist. He had suffered for this ideology through personal experience, you could say. When I was young, I didn't think about it and, like everyone else, I just crammed what I needed for my grade book, without thinking and, in general, openly mocking the clumsy, degenerate propaganda, but life, the liberal authorities and the market that I had decided on forced me to remember the theory of class struggle and look at it with a new look. That's what made him interesting to me - the others, even having characters and moral principles that suited me, either became embittered or did not understand anything, blaming specific people and not seeing the root causes of the whole situation behind them. This man... suited me. A moral basis can be broken, especially by temptation and power, but a hard-won, clearly formulated and harmonious ideology is not so easy to break by the banal acquisition of power. Such a person simply won't have a motive to do something as crazy as: "I'll start a nuclear war to kill all these bastards!", or any motive in the series: "I felt bad, but they felt good, which means all people are scum and unworthy of living! I'll take revenge on everyone for my grievances!"
The question remained, should I inform him or just quietly carry out my dirty deed and watch how it goes? A dilemma that carries a lot of pros and cons in either case. Although, who am I kidding? If God condescends to endow a hero with great strength, then he is obliged to appear before him and just like in confession!.. Well, I mean, this is such a cliché, how can I just take and pass by it?! I'm damn Loki! I have to walk my boots on such a strong nonsense and make it real! I mean, who else but me?
"Who do you want?" the man asked unfriendly in response to the knock on the door. I considered it impolite to just show up in front of him right in the house, so after completing the last session of careful scanning of his memory, I delicately went out and knocked.
- You, - I answered honestly and laconically with my usual smile. - My name is Loki, and I have a proposition for you. And so that there is no misunderstanding between us... - the golden shimmer of the illusion in a second turned my appearance into an exact copy of Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin. - This is not a prank, - I assured in a new voice.
"What does this mean?" the retiree froze like a stone statue in the doorway.
"You're lucky," I return to my real form. "And I suggest we go inside—the conversation will be long," I add a green magical glow to the iris of my eyes for a moment, to once again tune the person to the right mood.
- Okay... - glancing at Yuriko standing silently behind me, Alexey stepped aside and, as soon as the door closed behind us, led me into the living room. - So who are you? - the owner of the house resumed the conversation, not rushing to sit down and offering us to sit down.
"I am God. Loki," without asking, I transform the first chair I come across into a comfortable armchair, upholstered in green velvet, and sit down on it, facing Mironov. "And let's immediately forget all the nonsense that Abrahamic religions tell the world about gods, I'm not in the mood to discuss the advertising brochures of the oldest financial pyramids on Earth right now," another gesture, and the second shabby chair, possibly dating back to Khrushchev, turns into something much more comfortable, especially for Yuriko. She, however, ignored it, preferring to stand frozen behind my left shoulder.
- But I don't drink. And I'm still a squirrel, - the retiree stated gloomily, either trying to joke or to gain time for a more intelligible reaction, in any case - Miss Oyama and I didn't even flinch at this maxim. - Okay, what do you want? - the man sat down on the sofa.
- To offer you to participate in an experiment. It so happens that I am currently studying the phenomenon of human mutation and have achieved certain results that I would like to test. But injecting a mutagen into the first person I meet is not interesting. And although I don't particularly care how people govern themselves, as long as they don't try to destroy the planet with nuclear bombs or destroy its biosphere in some other way, I thought that I could combine business with pleasure and, together with conducting an experiment, give the Soviet project another chance.
"Are you a communist?" my vis-à-vis asked, his face twisted in a funny way.
"No, I'm a monarchist," I shake my head. "I see the ideal form of government as an absolute monarchy, where I'm the most important one," Gungnir, transformed into a cane, already twirled between my fingers as usual. "Actually, like most reasonable people, no matter what they say about themselves," another shrug. "But I like socialist and communist ideas."
- Excuse me, but this sounds like nonsense.
- You are simply asking the questions incorrectly and do not understand that there are several of them, - I lean back in my chair. - When asking myself what kind of society I find attractive, a person, as a rule, makes the mistake of cramming everything together, which gives rise to all sorts of hesitation and looseness of convictions. Meanwhile, the question: "What kind of society would you like to live in, assuming that you will be at the top of the hierarchy there?" and the question: "What kind of society would you like to live in, knowing that you will end up on the lowest social rung?" are two completely different questions. However, you people really don't like to voice the second one even to yourselves, let alone in public, subconsciously convincing yourself that you personally will end up at the top by default, because you want the best and the sweetest, and it is unpleasant to think about the bad, so these bad options are rejected with the stamp: "Well, this can't happen to me!" So, in answer to the first question, I am a monarchist, and to the second, I am a communist. As you can see, everything is very simple.
"And hypocritical..." the retiree echoed.
- On the contrary, - I shake my head with a degree of sincere disagreement, - this approach is the most honest, because it allows us to clearly sort out which system we love and for what, which we consider more just, and which, on the contrary, was created to serve only a narrow group of people. In this regard, socialist and communist principles are clearly and frankly fairer than all others, and for this alone they are worth respecting.
– But for yourself, do you choose monarchy?
"I was a prince for a thousand years," I spread my hands, as if to show that there is no subject for discussion here. "But you are wrong if you think that I like the monarchical form of government solely for selfish reasons. The main disadvantage of a monarchy is that the monarch can be a fool, and, in fact, this is its only disadvantage, since nothing prevents the monarch from creating socialism for his subjects. At the same time, elected "leaders" are a priori not responsible for anything… But enough about politics – you yourself can write a poem in three volumes about the moral character of the "popularly elected". Let's get back to our business. You are not an obsessed psychopath, right?
- What, excuse me? - the owner of the house jerked his head in dismay at my disarming smile.
- You see, my project is, roughly speaking, a super soldier serum. One injection - and you're like Captain America, only faster, stronger and without a shield. The problem is that the drug is only theoretical, and I need clinical trials to be sure. But giving just anyone the power to enter the White House and rip the president's head off is a bit... - I winced slightly, trying to convey the delicacy of the idea with my facial expressions - an unsuccessful joke, - I seemed to "pick" the right wording. - As I already said, I try not to interfere in the affairs of people as a civilization. It's one thing to make a harmless joke that won't hurt anyone, and quite another to take actions that could lead to a terrible mess and chaos in a particular country. I am not against a good movement as such, but it should have some kind of sound idea, and not just a crowd of idiots drunk with their own power, rushing to compensate for all their complexes at the expense of those around them. Actually, that is why I suggest that you take part in the experiment. You are mentally healthy, you have a clear moral core and a clear ideological platform, that is, even if you start using force left and right, you will do it logically and thoughtfully, and not like a juvenile moron who has seized power.
- And you want to give me such power and let me use it just like that?.. Without demanding service or any favors? - skepticism and doubt were written in large letters on the man's face.
– I admit, I had an idea to gather a couple of divisions of super-soldiers, put on Stalin's appearance and, having seized power in the Kremlin, arrange for the whole planet to have a few moments of unprecedented cheerfulness and sweaty palms, but it's too much trouble. I'll have to rule you, and I already have more things to do than I'd like, – I shrug, playing with my cane again. – So yes. As long as you don't start doing crazy things, like homosexual orgies or cutting off the heads of women and children, I won't care at all. And if you take the pseudonym "Koba" and undertake to restore the Bolshevik Party, with certain goals, I'll even support you morally. Otherwise, I'm interested exclusively in clinical trials, but here all you'll need to do is take the serum and sleep for a couple of hours while I observe the mutation process in your body.
"I can't understand what the point is?" Alexey grabbed his temple with a characteristic gesture illustrating an approaching migraine. "A god who walks the earth, experiments with super-soldier serum and doesn't mind playing Stalin, it's all some kind of…"
"A joke?" I prompted readily, stretching my lips into a characteristic smile. "Yes, that's right. Although not quite as you expect. I could give an analogy with a scientist studying a colony of ants on a space station, but that would be very crude and still extremely far from the real state of affairs. The fact is that in some ways I really am incomparably better and more powerful than a human, but in some ways, on the contrary, I am not much different from you. Your ideas about gods are born of the ignorance of your ancestors. I can at least talk to you using the terms "serum", "mutation" and "clinical trials", but a century and a half ago in this country only a few percent of the population could even read, let alone the inhabitants of the Dark Ages. So you can perceive me as simply an alien scientist. I can even take the form of a little green man. Or gray, if you're a fan of "X-com: UFO Defense," I lower the top of my cane into my left palm, settling more comfortably in my chair.
- Okay, but explain why you need this?
- I already explained: clinical trials of an interesting scientific result, combined with a good deed in the form of helping a good person and a joke that can grow into something more. You won't sit on your butt, becoming healthy, strong and really capable of changing life in your country.
- As I understand it, nothing might work out. Will I die then? - the man asked, looking me in the eye seriously.
- Maybe. According to my calculations, everything should work out, but you never know... - I shrug my shoulders once again. - That's what testing on volunteers is for.
- And if I refuse?
- And you will refuse?
"And yet," the retiree stubbornly did not accept the joke.
- I'll get up and leave.
- Are you just going to leave?
- Why not? There are millions of people in Midgard who have health problems and who would jump at the chance to be cured, even if I offered them an eternal slave contract, and I'm in no particular hurry. However, I don't feel like explaining everything three times either. I've already given you enough information to make a decision, so what will be your answer?
- It's all very hard to believe... - the man closed his eyes, going into deep thought. I didn't disturb him, patiently waiting for him to mature. - I agree, - after about three minutes the man broke the silence.
"Wonderful," an injector with a pre-measured dose of mutagen fell out of the distortion above my hand. "Then lie down on your back…"
Four days later. Westchester, New York.
"Charles, am I disturbing you?" I ask the owner, knocking delicately on the office door and slipping inside.
- Oh, welcome back, Loki. Come in, - the telepath nodded, smiling. - How did it go? I understand that since Russia is still standing, hasn't had a revolution and hasn't declared war on anyone, then everything is probably fine. But I'd like to make sure, - Xavier deigned to joke, putting some papers on the table aside.
- Well... - I drawled thoughtfully, already sitting down in the guest chair. - In general, the initial tests and analyses showed that the "super soldier" formula is completely stable and safe, moreover, it gently activates the latent X-gene, if it can be activated at all. But, just in case, it will be necessary to examine the obtained samples on Asgard equipment, then conduct a couple more tests on volunteers, for statistics, and check the work on mutants with already awakened genes, preferably on those for whom such awakening led to physical development disorders. But this is not a matter for one day, and special equipment will need to be prepared in order to be able to roll back everything in the last cases and accurately pump out the patient. Then - yes, then you will have a medicine to correct many difficult cases, and simply to increase the chances of Scott, Jean and Storm to survive in combat operations. As for the revolution... You can't even imagine, Charles, how much my hands were itching! - I roll my eyes, letting a dreamy smile appear on my face.
"I thought you said that you weren't interested in power, especially in Midgard? So why arrange something like this?" the professor allowed himself some surprise, not questioning the prospects of using the "super soldier" serum on his students if it turned out to be safe.
"These are all temptations from the Light side of the Great Power," I nodded thoughtfully, as if I had only just come to this conclusion. "I resist with all my might, but the Light side constantly tempts my callous, villainous little heart to do something for the benefit of those around me, so to speak, to make everyone happy, and so that no one leaves offended."
"And this requires a bloody revolution?" Charles raised an eyebrow skeptically.
- Of course! - I began enthusiastically. - There is nothing better for building a fair and socially oriented society than a bloody revolution!.. Of course, it is still possible to act through the general moral and ethical growth of society and the rise of reason over primitive animal instincts that push us to grab as many resources as possible, regardless of how much we really need them, while tearing at the throats of all competitors for their possession, but this is too long - I will die of old age before humanity grows to this point, - I spread my hands in a gesture of helplessness and "circumstances are stronger than me." - It is much easier to simply kill all the unnecessary ones, who are no longer capable of thinking about anything in life except an extra number on their bank account.
- Oh... - the telepath massaged his bald spot with the fingers of his left hand. - You're not trying to please me...
- Not at all, I didn't start a revolution, - I twirled my cane, smiling in his face, - which means, you could say, I heroically saved everyone! Maybe from fits of my own enthusiasm, but I did save them! Excellent news, as for me.
"And it would still be much better if you limited yourself to the usual answer that everything went well, without going into details that would make half the world's leaders go grey," the telepath smiled reservedly, catching my gaze.
"Aren't you being overly dramatic?" I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.
"The ruler of the dominant state in the galaxy barely restrained himself from seizing power in the largest nuclear power on the planet and starting to build a just society through a bloody revolution… Believe me, you can't overdo it with the drama in this phrase," the experienced teacher and brain doctor conveyed the "common truths" to me with a confidential intonation.
- Okay, okay, you convinced me, - I raise my hands in a protective gesture. - I promise to be more careful in the future. Speaking of which... - I move a folder with documents from my subspace pocket and hand it to the man. - Here you go.
"What is this?" Xavier asked logically, taking the documents across the table.
- The accuracy you asked for. Here is information on the person who received the serum. Since I cannot guarantee that I will be on Earth all the time and be able to monitor the situation, let it lie with you. Just in case.
– Could this be necessary?
"Who knows?" I shrugged. "In any case, the likelihood that this man will soon gather a group of both mutants and ordinary people around him is much greater than zero. It is entirely possible to deal with him, and for you, as the head of one of the strongest mutant communities in the world, this could be useful."
"I see," Professor X paused to look at the cover, thinking about something, but soon returned to reality. "Is this why you left Miss Oyama in the hallway?"
- No, what are you saying? She knows about his personality and plans - she helped me choose him. I asked her to wait in the hallway so that one of the wolf cubs could smell the scent of the older sister and have time to ambush me as I was leaving the office, - I explained my cunning plan quite honestly, smiling broadly.
"Do you think Laura would do that?" Xavier smiled as well.
- Charles... - I played with my voice with feeling, - how long have I been gone? Of course she'll set up an ambush! She loves to do that, even when I'm not leaving anywhere.
"And you've already prepared gifts," guessed the most powerful telepath on Earth.
- Oh yeah! Gifts! - I jump up from my chair. - I completely forgot! Souvenirs from the Evil Empire, the terrible Mordor and the stronghold of the red bears!
"Loki..." the life-wise teacher clearly understood what would happen next, but he couldn't stop me.
- So, here's a matryoshka, a balalaika, a samovar, - I started unloading the souvenirs I'd picked up in Russia from my subspace pocket. Yeah, right on the table of the respected American professor - a Kalashnikov assault rifle, an Octobrist badge, a stereotypical NKVD investigator's suit with a museum revolutionary Mauser and, of course, a fur hat with earflaps! Well, I'll unload the vodka on Scott. So... what else?.. - I thought.
"Loki..." Xavier accepted my passage with a sigh, carefully removing the machine gun from the table.
- I didn't rob museums! - I didn't deny myself the pleasure of standing up for my good name. - I honestly took the weapon from the collection of one of the president's advisers. It was a fair act - he had no right to it and was simply using his official position.
"Please don't give out the rest of the weapons from that collection to the students," the man asked sincerely, looking me in the eyes.
"Even Laura?" I tried to portray the astonishment of an innocence insulted to its finest feelings.
"Especially her," Xavier retorted.
"Okay," I sigh, as if I were truly upset. "But at least tell me what was going on here while I was wandering through the snowy expanses of the terrible Mordor, desperately fighting the urge to stage a small, victorious purge of the highest echelons of power."
"We had an unusually quiet and calm time," the telepath answered honestly. "You know, this wonderful routine and boredom…" the man smiled, "as much as it can be in a school for gifted children."
- I see, but never mind, your favorite history professor is back with you, and so soon it will be fun and wonderful again. I already have a lecture course planned on the Great October Socialist Revolution and its role in the formation of modern society!
- For some reason I thought so...
- Okay, Loki has checked in, Loki has reported. And now his divine instincts tell him that it is time to go out the door and accept his fate with honor! - with these words, I turned on my heels and resolutely headed for the exit, where a little girl was already waiting for me.
Apparently, having also sensed something with his psionic gift, Charles saw me off with a quiet laugh, and then I left the office of the director of this educational institution, and-and-and...
- Ahem... - I voiced some... let's say, incident that almost dropped me on the floor. No joke, I didn't expect such a sharp start.
– (>__>)… – the circumstance brilliantly made it look like nothing was happening, and the chokehold on my neck is just me and in general it was always hanging there.
"Hmm?" I cleared my throat, finding with my gaze the imperturbable face of Yuriko, who was waiting for me with discipline behind the door and, as it were, fulfilling the duties of my bodyguard…
– (<__< )… – And I realized that I couldn't expect any help here, because Miss Oyama's entire pose completely supported the normality of the situation when a small living projectile suddenly flew into my neck and began to growl with satisfaction, "clutching at its prey."
"Okay then," I was forced to admit, shrugging my shoulders and gently touching Laura's head. "But, Little Wolf, let me at least give you your gift and re-hook it more comfortably? I suppose there's no chance you'll let me go in the next hour or two anyway?"
- (-__-)… - they growled something unintelligibly into the back of my head and grabbed me more comfortably around the neck.
"For some reason that's what I thought," I told my conclusion to the child who had clung to me and was actively pretending to be a baby koala. "And yes, I'm also very glad to see you!"
– (^__^)!
"Was that a happy smile?!" I didn't immediately believe that the girl even moved away a little to smile at me.
– (>__>)… – she thought hard about my question, but held the collar tightly. – (-__-)… – in the end they shrugged their shoulders at me and hung back.
- Okay, I get it, it seemed to me, yes, - the mood, already at a very, very high level, was rapidly rising even higher, after all, Laura is delightful. - Okay, here, - I summon the thing from the subspace pocket, - let's try this on! - and Laura with a pioneer tie is doubly delightful. Having completed the act of upgrading her Combat Hamster into a Soviet Combat Hamster, thereby raising the girl by half a rank and granting new skills... ahem, pardon, not that universe. Although... maybe someday it will be possible to get to Enroth. Dreams-dreams, but for now... - How do you feel about riding a real god and slightly shocking the public? - Having picked up the child, who still had not let go, more comfortably, I made a new proposal.
- ... - the girl silently let go of my neck and with a dashing maneuver climbed onto my shoulders, showing with her whole appearance that she was ready to go, pardon me, to ride along the road of adventure.
- Excellent! Well, let the trolling begin... and perhaps some fooling around! By the way, have you heard if classes are over yet? - At that very moment the bell rang and the corridors gradually began to come alive. - Oh, I see, excellent! Let's go! - and I set off in search of a certain sweet goddess. After all, one must combine business with pleasure and a little pleasure on top, right? That's what I think one must do.
Some time later.
"So, while the kids are eating ice cream," I nodded towards Laura, who was gobbling up Yoshkar-Ola milk ice cream in a waffle cone, "and the beautiful ladies are busy trying on fur coats," now my gaze fell on the tangle of bodies around the boxes by the sofa, where one could see snow-white, red and dark hair, "spill over — how are you settling in with the family?" and, leaning back on the sofa, I raised an eyebrow in anticipation.
"Not as bad as you might expect," Logan shrugged, stopping to examine the bottle of Georgian cognac. "A bit unusual, but…" the mutant's gaze slid from the gift to the little girl, shamelessly warming her ears during the adults' conversation, "we seem to have gotten along," Wolverine continued his thought, receiving a serious nod from Laura in response, which, however, led to a dirty nose, but the girl was not at all embarrassed.
- What about memory?
"Vaguely," the change of topic didn't please him very much, so much so that Logan even winced a little, "but I remembered that I took part in World War II and, it seems, was acquainted with Captain America…" Now there was a general gesture with the body, as if the man himself was not very comfortable with stating such a thing.
"By the way, it's good that you reminded me, it's time to dig him up already…" I noted the moment, rubbing my chin.
I remembered well that Cap was supposed to be found by the time the original Loki led the Chitauri to Midgard, but I had no idea when that was supposed to happen. And the Tesseract would be found right next to him, and I really didn't want to leave it in the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D. From then on, even without any Tony, they would dig up the Red Skull's old projects and start refining them until the next Chitauri invasion or some other crap, and if Tony took it up... An Iron Man capable of instant intergalactic teleportation, whose brain is being jabbed by a wayward blue rock that even the Asgardians are afraid to use on a regular basis, is not the worst thing that could happen there.
"Excuse me?" Wolverine asked for clarification.
- He crashed somewhere in the ice at the end of the war. SHIELD is slowly looking for him and, according to my predictions, should find him in the coming years... Should I break into their base and see how things are going? - the idea wasn't so bad, if you think about it...
"Do you think he's still alive?" the mutant raised an eyebrow skeptically.
- What could happen to him? His regeneration is not like yours, of course, but he won't die in cold water. I'm more concerned about his mental health. Well, you know, you heroically sacrifice yourself for the country on the threshold of a universal victory over the vile global evil, and then you wake up in a gloomy dark future where gay parades are held, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. is a stupid aggressive black man, and Hydra already rules the world...
"The Hydra rules the world?" The name seemed to awaken some memories in him.
- Well... about forty-five percent...
- What?! - Logan was clearly remembering this organization more and more with each passing second. And he didn't like what his memory was whispering to him.
- Why are you so surprised? - I lean back in my chair and take a sip of cocoa from my mug. - Of course, the Red Skull was given a good kick, but the organization was not only based on him, and it is always easier to survive together than to run away one by one. For some time, we ourselves dragged it out in pre-prepared caches, and then the Cold War began, during which a bunch of Nazi criminals very quickly received amnesty, especially in the blessed United States. Of course, they were controlled, looked after and all that, but it's like with crime: as soon as the police start playing games with "their" gangs and bosses, before you know it, they are already up to their ears in their business and sincerely consider it their own.
"And this doesn't bother you at all?" the mutant asked with a somewhat… warning note.
– Merging of crime with official authorities?
"No," Howlett didn't accept the joke, "Hydra and their plans for world domination."
"Not really," I shrug, taking another sip and glancing at Laura's face. "Someone is always trying to dominate the world. There's a group of old men in the mountains of Tibet who can start the apocalypse with a snap of their fingers, summoning some demonic lord to our world. With one command, I can tear the Earth into a pile of space debris or set legions of ice giants on it. In the depths of space, there are beings who can gobble up planets like pies. And a person who can turn all world leaders and military base commanders into their most loyal slaves with one thought teaches gifted children to appreciate literature. If you start worrying about every such thing, you can go crazy, and my life is already nervous, I just don't sleep for days and don't eat at night," I touch my lips to the glass again.
- You really comforted me! - Wolverine thanked sarcastically.
- Go ahead! - I saluted my interlocutor with the dishes. - But in general, one question really interests me.
"I know I'll regret this," Logan rolled his eyes, "but… what?" It sounded like he was doing me a favor. Maybe to him it was.
- Storm, do you think I should rob the Pentagon to find out when they dig up Cap, or wait a bit? - Instead of answering, I turn to the beautiful mulatto woman who was just finishing her inspection of the fur charms.
- Captain America? - all three ladies turned to our corner.
- Yes, him.
- Ah... - exchanging glances. - Why?
- We need a gym teacher! And I know how to persuade him!
"Scott is doing a great job as a physical education teacher," Jean assured me with a smile that asked me not to make things more complicated.
- Oh, are you going to tell me how much free time you have and how easy it is to get distracted by business, finding someone to leave the children with? - I grin sarcastically, catching the telepath's gaze.
- This!.. - Caught off guard by such a formulation of the question, Jean Gray demandingly raised her index finger and even opened her mouth to retort, but the words would not come. - Something else! - she finally found a thesis.
- Oh, really? - I continued to play the role of a vile, impudent scoundrel.
"Loki, if you're going to rob the Pentagon, you don't have to ask my permission!" Ororo came to her friend's aid.
"No?" I was genuinely surprised.
"No!" the girl confirmed, already coming close to us.
- But why?
"Because, firstly, you'll do it your way anyway, and secondly, I don't want to be tormented by pangs of conscience for your antics," the beautiful blonde, dark-skinned girl explained everything in detail.
- Do you also think that I do everything my own way, regardless of the opinions of others? - I turn to my Most Important Advisor.
– (v_v«)! – Laura nodded seriously, without looking up from eating her ice cream.
- Well, there you go... I turned out to be a stereotypical Dark Lord again...
"Dark, maybe," Sarah joined the conversation, "but stereotypical…" she shook her head, "definitely not."
"Agreed," Wolverine supported, with Jean nodding and Storm grinning…
- Well then, - I shake my head in annoyance. - Now sit down and come up with a witty answer for you! Although... - my gaze slid from the satisfied faces of the adults to the serious face of the child. - And tell me, dear child, do you want to go with me to rob the Pentagon?
- Um, Loki, I don't think that... - Sarah began to show concern about my corrupting influence, but then the girl responded. I mean, a nod. Decisive, uncompromising...
- Great! - I got excited, completely ignoring the way the mutants started exchanging glances. - So, before we go on a job, you and I need to come up with a supervillain nickname for you! It should be cool, stylish, with a good, but not too obvious to an outsider subtext, and also easy on the tongue... Any ideas?
– (o_O)…
- Really…
– (<)… (>о)?
- Oh, well, supervillains are guys like me, nobody officially likes us, but we're awesome. And we have cookies!
– (‸)! – Laura expressed her complete readiness to be a supervillain with one glance.
- I knew you would appreciate it!
– (*_>)?
- Yes, we got distracted, - I agree with the child. - So... You are a cute, kawaii girl, you know how to fight, you are always silent, you know how to make a cool bad guy read you bedtime stories... Wait a minute, - I assess X-23's appearance with new interest. - What about Nio? We'll dye your hair, I'll teach you to change the color of your eyes, we'll organize a costume and an umbrella with a surprise in three years... Yes! A great idea! Well, how do you like it, Nio? Do you want some more ice cream?
– (o_o)?.. (>)... (^^)!..
- Perfect!
- Loki! - Oh, the X-Men are awake. But I've already recruited a loyal servant! Tremble, government bureaucrats, we're coming to you! Or should I just call Stark and ask?.. No! That's too easy! Better to steal Cap from under his nose and leave a little red flag!
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