Monday. Peter's room, after midnight.
He was not going into the dimension tonight. Not with three exams before Friday and Phase 3 notes still unread. He lay on his bed with his eyes closed and let FSIS run the day's flagged data through his earpiece instead.
"Anomaly detected in Oscorp's restricted research wing," FSIS said. "Power draw consistent with active bio-synthesis equipment, occurring after standard operating hours on four of the last six nights."
"Give me specifics."
"Energy signature matches a small-scale synthesis rig, well below the scale of Connors' regeneration lab. Access logs show a single badge used for each instance, code-locked to Norman Osborn's personal credentials. No other personnel present during any session."
Peter opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
"He's working alone. That's new."
"Also notable," FSIS said. "Session frequency is increasing. Twice a week a month ago. Four times last week."
'Whatever he's building,' Peter thought, 'it isn't Connors' project. This is something of his own.'
"Any way to pull the actual research logs?"
"Negative. The system is air-gapped from anything I can reach without a physical presence inside the building, and current security upgrades make that inadvisable."
"Not asking for that." Peter exhaled. "Just keep counting the sessions. Tell me if the frequency changes again."
"Understood. Flagging as priority monitoring, not priority action."
Peter closed his eyes again. Sleep did not come as easily as it used to.
---
Tuesday. Midtown High, lunch.
Harry dropped into the seat across from Peter without his usual energy.
"You look like you didn't sleep," Peter said.
"Neither did my dad, probably." Harry pushed his tray away, food untouched. "He missed the board call this morning. First time in six years. My mom had to reschedule three meetings herself because nobody could reach him until noon."
"Is he sick?"
"He says he's fine." Harry's laugh had no humor in it. "He always says he's fine. But I saw him yesterday morning before school and he looked..." Harry searched for a word and didn't find one he liked. "Smaller. Like something's eating at him from the inside and he's decided not to tell anyone."
"Has he seen a doctor?"
"He owns three hospitals' worth of research funding and won't see his own doctor. That's my dad." Harry picked up his fork, put it back down. "I keep telling myself it's stress. The company's fine. The board's fine. It's just him."
Peter kept his voice even. "You'd know if it was serious."
"Would I?" Harry looked up. "I used to think I'd know everything about him. Turns out there's a whole part of his life I've never been let into. I just didn't notice the door was closed until recently."
Peter filed it next to Monday night's alert. Two data points did not make a pattern yet, but they pointed the same direction, and he had learned a long time ago not to ignore that feeling.
'Whatever it is,' Peter thought, 'it's accelerating.'
"Sorry." Harry forced a smile that didn't fully land. "Didn't mean to make lunch depressing. You ready for the chem final?"
"Getting there."
They let the subject drop, the way seventeen-year-olds do when something is too big to hold onto during a lunch period.
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