Honesty and Identity
The meeting with Stark was going well for the first thirty seconds.
“My secretary, Pepper, didn’t actually tell me your name,” he said. “She said you call yourself ‘Matches’. Is that a nickname?”
“Call me Bruce,” he said, extending a hand. It was the most natural thing in the world. A different persona simply seemed necessary with someone who was not a criminal; he was almost playing it by ear. “I find the city has a rather unsavory criminal element, and as long as I intend to do business here, I had hopes that we could work together to correct it,” he said.
“You must be new here,” Stark said, incredulous expression stifling a laugh. “What is your business?”
“Speculation.”
“See, from what I hear, it’s more like insider trading.”
“Where am I getting my insider information?” he asked, doing a simple hand-shrug. “I happen to have the same eye for stock performance as everyone else in town, nothing more. I’m sure you think I had something to do with all the investors shorting Oscorp, but I actually missed that one.” If only I had Yehuda back then; I could have made a killing.
”That’s not the only thing I think has your fingerprints on it. I just got back from a rally for a certain mayoral candidate and I got- what is it, a secondhand handshake from Trask and Fisk. What even is that, a warning?”
“I would hardly bother with anything so sophisticated. Consider this, though. Is it really just that they came up with a plan to shake your hand and ruin your reputation, or did you agree with them? You realize that restriction is just what Trask wants.”
“What’s your angle; are you invested in the old money manufacturers?” Stark asked. It was a fair question, though he really had no idea of firearm producers. They were not the ones he remembered; not from the barrel of a single pistol had he heard the same fateful bang that came up in his dreams.
“What if I were?” he asked, shaking his head. “I want to deal with the criminal element, not the people who are simply defending themselves against it. I know we all want to believe the police are going to protect them, but even if they had the ability, they don’t have the obligation; this was established in Warren v. District of Columbia back in 1981. I know we all want to believe in the heroes, too, but they don’t have the obligation either-”
“Okay, you realize I’m Iron Man.”
“Yes, I realize you fly around attacking criminals with your own weapons. In my opinion, as long as you don’t kill them and allow them to stand trial for their actions, that’s okay. I don’t have any intention to take action against someone who is clearly trying to do the right thing.”
“Trying? I own the Avengers. I save the entire world on a regular basis.”
“Doing the right thing can require a less direct approach,” Bruce said. “How many criminals have you encountered who would not save the world from total destruction if given the opportunity?”
“It’s not always total destruction,” Stark said, sighing. “Look, to be honest, I don’t take care of street-level crime anymore. I’m in an entirely different weight class.”
“That’s all the more reason to start consulting other people on fixing the problems in this very city. I, for one, think it’s great that you have your own organization dedicated to protecting the world from larger threats. I wouldn’t know where to begin with that sort of thing.”
“What do you want, a job? This was all some game to get my attention?”
“I would like your cooperation. If you want to know my plans, let the results speak for themselves. I have your number, and you’ll know who’s messaging you when the time comes.” He paused. “I don’t know about your family background, but as for mine- we were always philanthropists.”
In reality, it was the opposite; he had researched the Starks and genuinely admired the way they seemed to want to give people better lives through science and technology. His own background was a mystery to him, but in the moment, it felt appropriate for the persona he knew only as ‘Bruce’. The host had another question, and fortunately it was one he had seen coming.
“Okay, let’s say we let the results speak for themselves. What if you’re just another power-hungry crooked businessman looking to take power for himself?”
“It’s funny. On the way here, I asked myself the same question about you.”
It was not that he did not care that Stark was a well-known, accomplished hero, it was that anything could happen. There were, obviously, body swappers and mind controllers, after all. As dangerous as the external factors were, though, it was naïve to think that was all. Even if he were to use his vast resources to protect himself and always remain in control, there was still the chance that he would have a bad day, and if he only knew one thing from personal experience, it was that one was enough.
As he changed into his Spider-Man costume in an alley, he put the second suit in the bag, along with the second phone he had purchased for his second persona, apparently. If my first was the hero and my second was Matches, and Bruce is distinct from him, then I have three. He decided to hope that was enough as he boarded the glider that he had parked. Refueling it had been a challenge, but it ran on a synthetic solution that he had seen in the contract at Oscorp, and he had been able to purchase more of the base chemicals from a supplier in New Jersey after buying out the repair shop before his week was up. As he had discovered, the location was owned by a chain and the repair man was a financier of the chain; it was not some family business for which no price would be taken. The repairman had received a substantial portion of the sale price, and would be able to start a new location elsewhere, whenever he returned from his vacation.
“There you are, Spider-Man,” Daredevil observed from a nearby rooftop. It seemed he had been waiting. “Why do you use the glider? It’s strange to hear you moving straight up.”
“I just found that it’s much faster and more convenient than swinging around. I don’t intend to hit anyone with the bombs- how did you find me here?”
“I was in the area. Whenever I have concerns that merit the attention of such a giant, I have a talk with Stark.” He chuckled.
“I would have to be deaf to miss the implication there. You don’t always agree with him, do you?”
“Not when I can help it, no. He has a storied record of heroic actions, but he seems to fail to understand that you can’t simply blast a hole through Fisk Enterprises, and even if you could, it would not fix anything. I admit I wondered if allying yourself with the Avengers had changed you.”
“Honestly, that’s it; I was worried about the same thing,” Spider-Man responded. “I know I said that a lot has changed with me, but really sometimes I don’t recognize myself, not like I should be able-”
“I can sympathize. From time to time, I think we all can. It would hardly be a journey if it did not change you.”
“Do you ever work with Ben Urich?”
“I do, actually. I would say he’s one of the few good journalists working for the Bugle or anywhere else in town. I’m concerned that someone might be trying to take down the Kingpin.”
“Who?”
“We’re not sure. My legal associate noticed a handful of bizarre stock movements. First it was Oscorp, and then Fisk was shorted by a matter of hundreds of thousands. It’s not going to defeat him entirely, but he’s not going to take it lying down.”
He wanted to ask what the concern with taking down the Kingpin was, exactly, but he and Daredevil might have discussed it before. There might be other people who think he reduces crime by organizing it, but organized crime creates more problems for the criminal justice system by solving the prisoner’s dilemma.
“What’s going to happen if he does get knocked off the top spot?”
“You’ve seen it.”
“Well, maybe, but what’s going to happen this time?” he asked, self-correcting. “Honestly, I don’t know if we should actively defend him. It might be worth serving his interests if someone who’s just going to kill everyone started to take over the rackets, but don’t all crime bosses fall sooner or later?”
“That may be,” the blind man said after a moment. “At the same time, if he falls and is not replaced then there will be more crime and disorder. Fisk has an incentive to reduce crime and allow others to do business, for the most part.”
“What’s the difference between a crime boss and the government?” he asked. ”Both prevent other crimes and charge protection money.”
“Governments are elected.”
“They certainly can be. What do you do if you don’t have an elected government? What do you do if the government just starts ignoring what the voters want?”
“You and I are both aware that the point of an ideal is that it’s hard to achieve,” Daredevil said. “Taking matters into your own hands every time is just making yourself an autocrat.”
“There’s an answer to the question, though. The difference is that the government protects the rights of the people. When it fails to do that, then it’s no different from a crime boss.”
He had nothing more to say to his more idealistic ally at the moment. More importantly, there was an emergency elsewhere in the city. The Green Goblin had emerged once more; though he had only seen one such glider and one such rider, it was already clear to him that his enemy was back with a vengeance. Dropping right as the other glider came from behind, he might have accidentally revealed that he had some early warning system, if the enemy’s scream was any indication.
“We meet again, Spider-Man!” the goblin announced. “It seems you’ve learned to avoid the silent glider.”
“I could hear your screaming from Hell’s Kitchen!” he shouted, thinking he had the neighborhoods right and remembering that the newspapers said that he had a tendency to tell jokes against enemies. The way he read it, it seemed that the newspapers believed he was trying to be inspiring or demonstrate to everyone watching that he had the situation well in hand, but given Parker’s age, and when he started the whole costumed routine, he thought it was more likely that he told jokes as a way of covering up his fear. If someone like the Green Goblin found out that his enemy was a scared kid, he would be able to use that to his advantage.
Webbing the glider proved to be of no effect. It seemed the entire thing had been redesigned to counter his abilities and equipment; he doubted it could even be destroyed by the bombs. When the goblin fired one of his own, he impressed himself with his ability to hit it with web in the middle of the air, and sling it around back at the glider that launched it, though the enemy anticipated this and moved out of the way.
“Can’t let anyone die, can you, Spider-Man?” the Green Goblin taunted. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that those people are beneath us in more ways than one?” He did not respond, only narrowing his eyes. “Have you considered that I can fire more than one pumpkin bomb at a time?”
Making good on the threat immediately, the explosives screamed through the open air, one racing toward him, and the other toward the ground. Using both web shooters, he hit them both, slinging one directly at the enemy and the other in the air above him. Right as the goblin was dodging the first, he fired a bomb from his own glider, aiming at the enemy glider in case he fired again, though his response was actually to pull up, getting himself caught in the blast of the second bomb.
Closing the distance, he webbed the bomb launchers thoroughly while the enemy’s head was spinning, and when he tried to fire again, the bombs failed to launch and exploded where they were, essentially destroying the glider in a powerful, sequential explosion, from which the goblin threw himself away, landing on the roof of a nearby building.
“Curse you Spider-Man! You stole my first glider and destroyed the second!”
You shouldn’t have been using either of them to try to kill innocent people.
”Well, if you want to keep your toys, you have to be careful when you share them with others,” he taunted. “You’re going in time out!”
Jumping onto the rooftop, leaving his own glider hovering, he fought with the goblin, who was stronger than he had realized, but not skilled in martial arts or gifted with an early warning system that predicted enemy attacks even more quickly than his own trained eyes. Kicking him across the rooftop with an exceptionally powerful side kick after a feint, Spider-Man was sure he had broken a few ribs at least.
“The way things are going, you’re going to have to see the school nurse. Give it up. Tell me who those men were- the ones who acted like they were arresting you last time.”
“Wouldn't- you like to know-” the goblin managed. He’s coughing up blood inside his mask. He should survive, but did I actually hit him too hard? Is this out of character for me?
”I’m just dying to know,” he said. “They were impersonating federal agents.”
In that moment he sensed danger coming from behind him and moved out of the way as the enemy was hit with another pumpkin bomb, this time from his own glider. He must still have some ability to control it at a range- he knew that his new glider was going to explode the whole time; that was how he was able to avoid the explosion that would have killed him otherwise. He could speculate that the new glider was hastily thrown together and only served as part of an elaborate trick, but there was very little time left. The enemy had been hit with a shock wave, several physical blows from someone much stronger than an average man, and his costume was on fire. He needed immediate medical attention.
Covering him with web, he was grateful that the goblin was unconscious as he put him onto the glider and raced to the nearest hospital. The only thought on his mind was about whether or not Spider-Man normally took care to ensure that his enemies survived their fights with him, even if their deaths could be considered their own fault.
Getting in by the roof of the hospital, he knew there was no way to just bypass all the questions and get the patient treated immediately, but if he escaped, then they would just have an injured patient on their hands and would have to do something with him. It was unfortunate that he could not allow them to do their job properly, but he needed to be there faster than he could arrive in an ambulance, and if the Goblin was the man he expected, then he could afford the treatment.
“Spider-Man?” a nurse on hand asked as he came through a hallway. “Who is that man?”
“He’s the Green Goblin; he managed to injure himself while trying to kill me. He may have only minutes left.”
“Right, right- let me call the appropriate-”
“Please do,” he said, leaving his enemy in the nearest available stretcher. “I need to be on my way.”
“Do you expect me to-”
“Yes. I don’t have much of a choice.”
Opening the window and climbing back up to the roof, what he had done was the equivalent of calling an ambulance and running away. He knew they had questions to ask him, but he could not afford to get surrounded, so he could only leave before the mob of medical professionals showed up. When he reached the roof, he webbed himself up to the hovering glider and went back to the scene of the crime.
Perhaps part of the reason Parker took up a job as a photographer was to keep the record straight. By having a camera taking pictures of his fights, he could establish what all was his fault. Taking the goblin costume, he went down to the nearest police station and submitted the costume as evidence of the man’s identity.
“His DNA should be in here. He’s not going to weasel out of it this time.”
“You got his costume off? Who is he? We need to match the sample to something we have on record,” the officer said.
“Norman Osborn,” he said, familiar with the procedure. He had not been exactly certain after reading the contract, because it was still possible that he was getting someone else to dress up in the suit, but once he saw the man’s face, there was basically no doubt. As Matches Malone, he had researched the competition.
“So, he was using Oscorp resources to build that glider thing and all the suit... why? What was his motive?”
“He didn’t reveal it to me before trying to hit me with an explosive while my back was turned. I managed to get out of the way, but I was in between him and the launcher. Somewhere in his costume, there must be a remote control for his old glider.”
“He’s being treated?”
“Of course. When he recovers, you can ask him why he assumed the identity of the Green Goblin, though if I had to guess, it was envy; that was how he landed on the name. For most of his life, he might have seen becoming an executive as the way to achieve power, but mutants and other metahumans challenged his position at the top with a different variety of power, and for the most part, the public perception was positive.”
“I’m following,” the officer said, entering something into a computer. “What’s a metahuman?”
“It’s just a term for someone more powerful than normal, for whatever reason. Some are aliens, some are genetic anomalies, and some have technology. It’s not a term everyone uses,” he said, deciding not to reveal that he was not sure where he had heard it first.
“Okay, I know that mostly this is a problem for the D.A., but you realize that with you as the only other witness to this fight where he was injured, legally, there could be some complications.”
“There might have been witnesses below us, on the ground looking up. They should at least be able to testify that the fight took place, and the goblin was the one who attacked me.”
“I would think most people would assume that. How did he get out the first time?”
“It wasn’t that he got out; there were a few men in suits who claimed to be federal agents; I handed him over without a complaint. I assume they were actually working with Oscorp. If there’s anything else you need, you can ask me after you arrest him. I’ll be watching.”
He did not know what kind of relationship Parker wanted to have with the police, but he had to at least be able to talk to them in order to get various criminals arrested. It would be easy for someone like Osborn to argue his way out of charges if he were simply left on the doorstep of the police station. Even now, he may escape penalty. Is the identity of the Green Goblin held to be one person, or is the court simply going to regard him as a man who was wearing a goblin costume at one point?
His ignorance of specific points of the law, when he remembered so much else, was another interesting point that seemed to suggest that he was in another universe, for all the good it would do him. I still need to research that dimensional rift that Stark described as Iron Man- if it explains why I am here, then I can potentially work out how to get back.
As much as he wanted to return, however, he knew it was not going to be as simple as building a machine and pushing a button; as much training and study as he had in various subjects, he had no idea what branch of theoretical physics was even involved with traveling between dimensions, if that even accurately described what was going on. There might be someone who knows more about this than I do. I can hardly say what kind of expert I would even need to consult.
Crawling up to the roof of the building where he had left the glider, he wanted to carry out more of the plans he had made. There was even a meeting he had to attend as Matches Malone. At the same time, he could not help but want to spend another moment in an identity that he did not create, one that he wondered if he could be warping. It did not escape his notice that he had spent more time talking to the police about bringing the suspect to justice than he had talking to the medical professionals about ensuring his recovery. What else can I do, though? How can I imitate for any length of time someone else? What if I’m doing the right thing, and he would have done the wrong thing? Would I still imitate him then?
With a clenched fist, he told the investor over the phone that it would be another moment before he could arrive at the meeting. It was strange having to move his mask just to speak clearly, but he supposed that Parker did not have a lot of experience changing his voice, so the full mask was perfectly necessary to maintain the separate identity. Perhaps that’s not really how he approaches problems. I think if anything has become clear it’s that we have different ways of going about things.
Boarding the glider with his mask on, he flew across the city, trying to remain aware that he could be attacked at any time, rather than getting lost in thought, even if his advanced senses would inform him of danger the moment before he needed to know. It made sense to be more proactive and become the danger that no one else expected; if he relied on the early warning system, the battle was already half-lost. He was lucky that the Green Goblin had a flair for the theatrical, but it was quick thinking that saved him from the real plan, not any stunning feat of athleticism.
Changing into the guise of Matches Malone, the basic function of the meeting he was about to attend was getting the investor on board with the shell company; he should have expected that someone else would realize the stock had risen substantially since incorporation, which had only happened a matter of days ago. With the additional capital, he could arrange more meetings and there was a chance he could get the new board member doing some of the legwork for him by attending the meetings; he was sure that people were already looking up his fake identity and not finding anything, so it was convenient that he had real people with backgrounds who could speak for the shell company from time to time.
Whatever his name was, he knew it was not Peter Parker, and even if he used web shooters and bright colors, there were some things he would have to do his own way.