So there are some sharp minds among New Yorkers after all!
But Maya wasn't about to admit anything. Setting aside the fact that she really had taken the dirty money — ahem, no, that she'd been oppressed by a capitalist bully wielding his wealth; and yes, oppression by money is still oppression, thank you very much.
Anyway, the thing she was about to do — only Tony's broad, sturdy shoulders were built to carry it.
"Mr. Reporter, I can assure you every one of those guesses is wrong. My early flurry of activity was on Mr. Stark's instructions, and my absence these past few days was precisely because Mr. Stark had a new plan. Namely, this morning's press conference, and tonight's 'Everyone Is Spider-Man' event. My equipment is unlike the others' because I've logged more field time — I'm nimbler, quicker, more fluent with the ODM gear."
Seeing that everyone, Tony included, was listening intently, Maya went on. "Just as the best pilots are always the ones who test-fly the newest planes, I, as the finest ODM operator, naturally have both the ability and the duty to serve as the tester for new equipment. I can promise you that when the final model hits the market, the vast majority of people will have a range of styles to choose from — after all, everyone's innate sense of space is different."
Not bad — this Spider-Man's hitting the nail on the head. I really will develop different models based on skill level, Tony thought to himself.
"All right, everyone! I don't think you need to keep doubting whether I'm Spider-Man. Tonight, here and now, I can proudly say: I am Spider-Man — but Spider-Man is not me. He can be every single one of you."
Tony strode forward again, voice rising.
"I said it before: I didn't build the Spider-Man team for hype. So many of us, all for one purpose — to strike at evil and help every American threatened by wickedness. Maybe our actions will anger the authorities, offend the courts, make enemies of a few powerful men. But we're not afraid, because we are one body. I believe in the American people's boundless pursuit of freedom, equality, democrazy — and their fierce will to defend it. And I think that even if I stir up one hell of an uproar, so long as we Spider-Men stand on the side of justice, you'll stand with us. Won't you?"
"We're with you, Spider-Man!" someone shouted.
"Righteous Spider-Man, we're with you!" More and more voices joined in.
"With you! With you!" The chant grew steadier, louder.
...
"How about it? Nicely arranged, aren't they? Two hundred grand — at least 800 professional marchers in that crowd, plus a whole lot of Broadway bit-players I rounded up," Jarvis said, smug.
(Author's note: A lot of protesters and demonstrators in the U.S. are professionals — not so different from the paid fans who turn out to greet celebrities at the airport these days.)
Listening to Jarvis in his earpiece, Tony — ringed by the crowd — couldn't very well answer, so he faked a couple of light coughs.
Jarvis was quick on the uptake. He caught his young master's hint and went on, "Relax, young master! The video's ready — clips of all your various Spider-Men's past heroics. I had Cameron, the man who made The Terminator, cut it personally, with a background score from one of Jackson's top music producers. More thrilling than any Hollywood blockbuster. One word from you and I'll take over the supercomputer and push the feed to every billboard in Times Square. In a moment you'll be standing before that 40-meter (130-foot) giant screen — the instant you throw your arms up, I'll handle everything for you!"
Ah — why do they say a household with an elder has a treasure? Seasoned old Jarvis really does run circles around that dolt Happy. Look at the scale of it — eight hundred extras alone, and two hundred grand is nothing, nothing — one word: worth it! And look how thoughtful he is: knowing yours truly loves to put on a show, he's even saved me the center spot. Then look at you, Happy — one green shill, trotted out over and over. Do I look like a man short on cash? Can't even spend money right. Absolutely useless!
Tony swept his hand down, and with the professional shills leading, the scene quickly went quiet.
The crowd watched Tony stroll to the center of the square, beneath the massive billboard, and shout, "This — this is the opening shot of our Amazing Spider-Man team! And it's just been fired!"
That said, Tony bowed his head — then flung both arms violently upward!
"Sob, sob — I'm scared, please don't hit me..."
"Mutants aren't people. They're our experiment material. Just think of them as lab rats..."
"I'm hungry — I haven't eaten in four days!"
"Then starve to death, you little mutant whelp."
"You have no right to lock me up. I'm not insane, I didn't damage any property, I didn't hurt anyone..."
"Idiot. We use the insanity excuse for exactly this — so we can experiment on you."
"Put Experiment Subject No. 25 in the iron cage in Basement 7..."
...
Arms raised high, Tony waited on a cheer that never came. Instead, strange voices reached his ears. He lifted his head — and saw the reporters and passersby all staring, stunned, at the picture behind him.
The instant he turned around, the Spider-Man he'd cut the shady deal with stepped briskly up and patted him once on the shoulder — and just like that, Tony couldn't move a muscle. He couldn't even make a sound.
Ignoring the terror in Tony's eyes, Maya seized the window while the crowd's attention was locked on the big screen and yanked Tony's Spider-Man mask down over his face. Once his identity was hidden, she grabbed the "turtle shell" on his back and hauled him bodily over beside her, turning him to face the crowd ahead.
Maya raised her voice. "This is the key target of tonight's operation — the Aldrich Psychiatric Hospital in Queens. Under the pretext of treating mental illness, they illegally seize and detain mutants, and monstrously use them for human experimentation. You've all seen it — many of these mutants are minors, some just children a few years old. They should be in warm classrooms, in comfortable rooms, in their parents' arms. They too are American citizens. They too are protected by the Constitution. They too are members of the civilized world."
"But look at what they've endured. Mutants are people too. The guilty should be arrested; the innocent have the right to freedom. Tonight, our Spider-Man Squad is going tiger-hunting — and we're after a very big tiger. It doesn't matter how powerful the backers of Aldrich Psychiatric Hospital are. Fighting street criminals no longer satisfies Mr. Stark. We are declaring war on every last force of evil... and tonight, the first shot of that war has been fired!"
"Excuse me — is all of this true?"
Ben Urich asked in disbelief. The human experimentation on that screen was simply too much to take in. People in this era were still fairly innocent, not yet numbed by the information-age deluge; even movies about biological experiments were rare, and real human experimentation was something they were facing head-on for the very first time.
Maya said, righteous and unflinching, "Of course it's true. Mr. Stark not only holds the original video footage — through Spider-Man's covert operation, he obtained a great many documents from Aldrich Psychiatric Hospital, and every one of them has already been mailed to the headquarters of your newspapers. None of it can be faked. And Mr. Stark has provided each of you with a USB flash drive as well, containing both the experimental data and detailed footage."
Under his mask, Tony listened to Spider-Man go Mr. Stark this, Mr. Stark that — and a fog rolled through his mind. Who is Mr. Stark? And who am I? Where am I right now? What am I even doing?