42
Practically the entire day I spent in a logistical marathon setting up the laboratory at the base. The equipment was considerable, it was damn expensive, and I didn't want to waste such a place in a stupid way. The routine was exhausting but reliable: I'd drive to my house, meet the next van, receive a batch of equipment. If it was something especially valuable, compact, or bulky, it disappeared without a trace into my inventory. The rest I, grunting, loaded into the car. Then I'd return to the base, unload everything, and repeat the cycle anew. Fortunately, because the order was truly huge, Lucas went out of his way and personally coordinated many moments, building the logistics to maximally simplify my life. The only thing that complicated it, essentially, was my own paranoia.
But by six in the evening, when the last box was brought inside, I closed the heavy laboratory door behind me and, leaning on it, exhaled. Before me, in the harsh light of the industrial lamps, spread my first laboratory that could truly be called serious. Yes, there was no equipment worth tens or hundreds of millions of dollars here, like in some Stark Industries, but everything standing before me, gleaming with new steel and plastic, covered practically all my pressing needs. And not only mine. I had additionally consulted with Peter, and ultimately we settled on three main equipment categories, creating a universal complex for an under-genius engineer and a genius biochemist.
First category: Production and Material Processing. The kingdom of metals and polymers.
This is the foundation of foundations for any creator: the place where formless raw materials turn into parts, housings, unique alloys, and basic components.
The 5-axis CNC milling machine. The true king of the laboratory. A huge, imposing unit for high-precision processing of metals, polymers, and composites. I looked at it and saw not just a machine, but a tool capable of creating parts of the most complex shape according to a digital 3D model, from microscopic gears for a gadget to load-bearing elements of an exoskeleton. A thing vitally necessary. The model from Haas, weighing several tons, had cost me a hundred thousand dollars, and every cent had been justified. The industrial multi-material 3D printer. If the CNC machine is the sculptor cutting away excess, then this printer is the alchemist creating from everything. A machine for layer-by-layer printing of objects from various materials: metal powder (titanium, tool steel), heat-resistant plastic, carbon-filled composite. A thing indispensable for rapid prototyping and creating non-metallic parts of devices. The model from Stratasys cost fifty thousand dollars. The vacuum melting furnace. The heart of my future forge. A compact but powerful unit for melting and creating unique alloys in a vacuum, which prevents oxidation and allows obtaining ultra-pure metals. Ideal for working with titanium, niobium, and, most importantly, for my future experiments with vibranium. The price tag was thirty thousand dollars. The plasma cutter and advanced welding machine. Tools of crude but necessary force. For precise cutting and welding of metals, for working with armor, housings, and power frames. The full professional set cost ten thousand dollars.
Next category: Electronics and Analysis. The nervous system and mind.
Here I would assemble, test, and debug all the stuffing of my future creations.
The advanced soldering station with microscope. My tool for neurosurgery on printed circuit boards. For work with microelectronics, mounting the most complex chips and components that were barely distinguishable by eye. Without this eight-thousand-dollar station, it was problematic to create even one truly cool modern gadget. The high-frequency oscilloscope and spectrum analyzer. Roughly speaking, the eyes and ears of an electronics engineer. These devices allowed "seeing" electrical signals, analyzing radio frequencies, debugging EMP devices, sensors, and communication systems. The good Japanese model, capable of catching the most elusive interference, had cost me thirty thousand bucks. The scanning electron microscope, or SEM. And here was the cherry on top. The most expensive and possibly the most important device I had purchased. This microscope was my portal into the nanoworld. It would allow me to see the structure of alloys, the integrity of graphene coatings, the work of nanomachines. Yes, Extremis wasn't forgotten. An extremely important tool for quality control and fundamental research. The desktop model, considered relatively cheap compared to industrial monsters the size of a room, had cost me a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. But the opportunity to look beyond the edge of the visible world... It was worth it.
Third category, conditionally "Chemistry and Biotechnology": The territory of life.
This section, necessary for creating potions, serums, and analyzing organics, was supervised mainly by Peter. I think his eyes had burned when we compiled the list, and I completely trusted his expertise.
The gas chromatograph-mass spectrometer. As Peter had said, this was the "great inquisitor of chemistry," the gold standard of analysis. A machine capable of taking any, most complex mixture, separating it into components, and determining their chemical composition with the highest accuracy. In our specific case, it would be indispensable for analyzing vampire and meta-blood, for improving the NZT formula, for creating healing potions and stimulants. The monumental and reliable model from Agilent, the size of an office desk, had cost a hundred thousand dollars and now hummed in its place of honor. The 10-liter bioreactor. A high-tech "cauldron" for brewing potions, or more precisely, for growing cell cultures (those same cells necessary for the Potion of Ash and Dawn from the Moon Jellyfish) and synthesizing organics in an ideally controlled environment. Essentially, this was a sterile, automated womb for our most delicate projects. The price had been forty thousand dollars. The high-speed refrigerated centrifuge. For separating liquids into fractions by density. Low temperature prevented damage to fragile protein structures, which was critically important when working with blood or cellular extracts. Another minus thirty thousand dollars from Blade's budget. The inverted fluorescent microscope. To not just study dead samples, but observe living cells directly in a culture dish. The fluorescent function would allow "highlighting" certain parts of cells to monitor their health and division process in real time. To spy on the secret life of cells. The good model with a digital camera had cost thirty thousand dollars.
Yes, most of the equipment was in this category, including many not-too-expensive but vitally necessary small items. Analytical scales and a set of micropipettes for ultra-precise weighing and measuring (the entire set was five thousand). A water purification system to a distilled state, a Dewar vessel for storing liquid nitrogen, an ampoule sealer, and so on cost another twenty thousand.
Last but not least were installed: a fume hood with laminar flow (twenty thousand), creating a sterile work zone, and a cryostat reactor (twenty thousand), resembling a high-tech thermos for conducting reactions at ultra-low temperatures.
Of course, all the previously purchased equipment had also been transported from my garage, and something from my inventory, like that miracle box with rare ores. The day had passed incredibly fruitfully.
In total, all the equipment had cost a little more than six hundred thousand dollars. In my past life, for such money, you could buy a decent house and still live comfortably for about ten years on the remainder. But in a world where SHIELD's annual budget was measured in billions, and the cost of one Iron Man suit exceeded the cost of an aircraft carrier, this was quite an adequate sum. It wasn't surprising that Blade had allocated the money without problems. The funniest thing was that only the components for the Potion of Ash and Dawn lying before me in the container cost more than this entire laboratory put together. By the way, about the potion.
"Peter, have you driven up?" I dialed his number. Enough sneaking into the university laboratory; we had already attracted too much unnecessary attention.
"Yes, John, I'm almost at the checkpoint. There's some serious guy in a uniform looking at me like I'm trying to bring a bomb. Will you meet me?"
"They won't let you in without me. Stay where you are; I'm already coming."
Having picked up Peter and brought him to the base, I gave him a brief tour. He walked around the laboratory with the look of a child who had gotten into Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, touching the equipment and muttering under his breath something about DNA replication and phase diagrams. I, meanwhile, had written to Blade to resolve the issue with the pass for Peter. The response came in a minute: "Will be done."
"Dude... This... this is just unreal," Peter finally exhaled, his eyes burning with anticipation. "A 5-axis Haas, a Stratasys, and is this a mass spectrometer from Agilent? This laboratory... it's perfect. Balanced, powerful... especially for its price. What shall we do first?"
"Healing potion," I looked at him seriously. "Or, as it's pompously called, 'Potion of Ash and Dawn.' But essentially, this is a healing potion. Capable of curing... well, very much. Within 24 hours."
Peter froze. His scientific enthusiasm changed to incredulous shock.
"This... what did you say? Healing within 24 hours? Critical conditions? This violates the laws of biology, thermodynamics, and common sense!"
"Yes," I answered calmly, approaching the table where all the components already lay. "For Uncle Ben. And for one more of my acquaintances. There was no hope from ordinary medicine. So we would create this very hope with our own hands."
I began bringing Peter up to speed.
"I started preparing the catalyst in advance," I said, pointing to the rhythmically bubbling bioreactor. "I placed the Moon Jellyfish cells in a nutrient medium, and now there should be just enough biomass for a dozen portions."
"Why exactly this catalyst? I read about them. This is one of the rarest species of jellyfish that are biologically immortal; the Hayflick limit doesn't affect them..."
"Yes, that's the whole point," I nodded, pleased that he had immediately caught the direction of my thought. "The enzyme from the stem cells of this jellyfish doesn't just stimulate cell division. It literally hacks its fundamental limiters. It forces cells to regenerate at such a speed that it contradicts all known biology. It gives one single, deafening command to the cells: 'GROW!'"
"Sounds like if you give it free rein, it'll turn the patient into one giant, fast-growing tumor," Peter said thoughtfully, not even guessing how right he was.
"Exactly. Uncontrolled growth is cancer. That's why this comes into play," I reverently demonstrated to Peter a small ampoule containing literally micrograms of super-rare cosmic powder. It was precisely because of it that the order from Lucas had been delayed for almost 24 hours. "Protein compounds from this lichen from Titan work not on a chemical level, but on a quantum level. It's simultaneously both an ideal guidance system and, most importantly, a reference template. It's like a ghostly image of ideal, healthy DNA. It's precisely this Marker, roughly speaking, that orders our cells to grow correctly."
We discussed the recipe once more, and I made sure Peter understood everything. He walked around the laboratory, his gaze directed nowhere, and then he summed it up. There was awe of a pioneer in his voice.
"When the potion enters the organism, the Marker scatters throughout the body, finding and marking all the 'sick' points at a quantum level: DNA breaks, cellular damage, necrosis... And the Catalyst rushes to these marks and launches an unrestrained restoration process, using nutrients from the potion and the organism itself as building materials. This isn't treatment, John. This... is system restoration from a backup copy."
"Exactly!" I smiled, pleased that Peter had caught the very essence of the name "Potion of Ash and Dawn." From the ash of disease to the dawn of healing.
"John... this... this is madness," his voice became quieter, almost reverent. "This changes absolutely everything. This isn't biochemistry; this... is applied quantum biology. The concept of a protein that resonates with DNA damage... this sounds like science fiction. But if this works, then it's a breakthrough comparable to the discovery of the double helix itself. This is a biological 'system rollback to factory settings' button. It can cure cancer, spinal cord injuries, genetic diseases, even reverse aging... But in the wrong hands..." His eyes widened with the horror of realization. "If the Marker can be 'tuned' to healthy DNA or the Catalyst separated from it... this is the most terrible biological weapon that can even be imagined."
"Well, here and now, the main thing is that this potion can save Uncle Ben's and Frank's lives. The rest is details," I shrugged.
"Yes, but we have to be incredibly, unthinkably careful with this technology."
"I'd worry more about Connors's serum. In my recipe, at least, I'm confident," I grinned good-naturedly, wanting to make Peter think about the destructive potential of this regenerative crap.
"Yes... there are its own problems there," Peter admitted with a sigh. "But Doctor Connors... he doesn't give full research data. He hides the unsightly part of the testing from the university. I'd be glad to help, but he doesn't really trust... either me or Gwen."
"Oh, what details. We'll definitely need to solve this problem."
"Problem? What are you talking about? The serum is experimental; there are still years of research ahead. It's not surprising that it has a number of... shortcomings. Difficult to call these problems."
"Hmm, yes, you're right. But in any case, you'll be obliged to get full access to this work when you're under NZT." With Octopus, it hadn't worked out, so at least with Lizard, I would try to avoid tragedy. "Just in case. If he's a genius, he won't be offended by the help of another genius. And now, enough talk. Time to proceed to... biochemistry. Even if it's quantum."
Nodding, Peter began assisting me. The theory was finished; sacred practice began.
The catalyst was already ready. The biomass obtained from the bioreactor, we processed in an ultrasonic homogenizer. A high-frequency hum filled the laboratory while sound waves destroyed cell membranes, releasing the active enzyme. The obtained "broth," we passed through a centrifuge, separating the heavy fractions. Then the liquid part was fed into a liquid chromatograph, which with the highest precision separated the pure enzyme from all impurities. At the output, we obtained several milliliters of a concentrated, absolutely transparent liquid that seemed to absorb light. This was our purified catalyst.
The second phase, Marker preparation, took several more hours and required almost surgical precision. The micro-sample of crystalline lichen, I preliminarily froze in liquid nitrogen, from which it became as fragile as glass. Then, in a sterile agate mortar, I ground it to a state of nano-dust, an ancient method for futuristic technology. This dust, we mixed with a special solvent in a cryogenic chamber. The low temperature allowed extracting the protein compounds without damaging their fragile quantum structure. The obtained solution was passed through a series of nano-filters, leaving behind pure Marker extract.
This was a liquid with a light pearlescent tint. The volume... you could divide a drop by a hundred. This would be enough for dozens of portions, considering that the Marker worked at a level of the microworld that Hank Pym would envy. A universe of information in a drop smaller than a pinhead.
The next and final phase was not just chemistry but an almost sacred rite: full-fledged potion synthesis. In a sterile flask on a magnetic stirrer, we mixed a synthetic nutrient medium and colloidal, ionized silver. The solution was slowly heated to the precise temperature of 36.6°C, the temperature of a healthy human body.
Into the heated, barely swaying base, with constant stirring, we very slowly, literally micro-drop by micro-drop, introduced the Marker extract. The solution immediately acquired a light pearlescent shimmer. After an hour, when it again became perfectly homogeneous, the purified Catalyst was added just as slowly. The ready elixir was held for another thirty minutes at a constant temperature, after which it was quickly cooled in an ice bath and poured into a dozen light-proof ampoules. The potion was ready.
And the system did not keep itself waiting.
[Created advanced potion "Potion of Ash and Dawn." Complexity: Medium. Received +300 OP!]
Reverses tissue aging inside the body. Heals wounds, restores damaged organs, returning them to peak functionality, as if time had turned back.
[Created advanced potion "Potion of Ash and Dawn." Complexity: Medium. Received +250 OP!]
...
[Created advanced potion "Potion of Ash and Dawn." Complexity: Medium. Received +10 OP!]
This was why your own equipped laboratory was so profitable. One batch and a whole avalanche of OP. This was literally 1,150 points from a single bush. Considering the 250 OP I had, my balance was now 1,400 OP. This was enough to cover all four planned purchases.
I stood in the middle of the laboratory, feeling how not blood but pure potential ran through my veins. Time for an upgrade. First, and already long overdue, was the improved Extremis formula for 500 OP. Yes, I understood that the process of its creation would not be among the simplest, and this laboratory might not be enough. But this was my path. My key to rewriting my own source code. I would at least understand where to start from. Delaying this purchase any further was a crime against myself.
Second and third were the recently received information packages from the system: Individual Armament for 200 OP and NE-mage technology for 400 OP. This was a debt of honor. Already today, I had wanted to create a suit for Blade. Not just functional, but to make it with soul, considering how much he had done for me. I wanted to approach this matter thoroughly, and this knowledge was necessary for me. And it would help with the fourth thing that by rights should have been unlocked at the very beginning of my path. But OP had been too valuable; I had hurried somewhere unclear... and ultimately, of course, not complaining. I wouldn't be here, in this laboratory, with friends and allies. But fatigue pills from Arcanum recipes, though rather anti-fatigue, had always itched at my subconscious level. The remaining 300 OP were just enough. I would unlock them, create, recoup costs, and get more OP on top. This was an upgrade to my most fundamental resource: time.
So, the plan for the night was ready. First, I would transfer the potions to Blade, let him give them to both Frank and Uncle Ben. The process needed to be carried out discreetly. Next, I would unlock all the information packages and recipes and craft the anti-fatigue pills. After which, under their effect and taking into account the obtained knowledge, I would create the suit for Blade and settle my debts. And then... then I would finally be able to engage in personal projects. This would be a very long and productive night.
"Hello, drop by and pick up the healing potions," I dialed Blade, not embarrassed by Peter, who with undisguised interest was listening to our dialogue. "Yes, besides Frank, we'll need to carefully cure one more person. Yeah, thanks, we're waiting."
"Who was that?" Peter asked curiously when I ended the call.
"The most right nigga in the world," I grinned. "I think you'll find some common language. And now, sorry, I'm going to crash on the couch in the hub for a couple of dozen minutes."
Actually, I was preparing for a mental storm, for the headache from the avalanche of information I was about to digest. Leaning back on the couch, I, just in case, took out and swallowed an NZT pill to speed up the assimilation process.
And at the same moment when the world around me acquired crystalline clarity, I realized that I was fucked.
Cold, sticky horror pierced me. The logical chain that my ordinary brain had missed, under the action of NZT, formed with deafening clarity. Fisk was a master of conspiracy. And in this universe existed a meta-bastard named Chameleon, a genius of disguises. Considering the preserved company capitalization, his death had most likely been staged. And Gwen... Gwen, in her conversation with Jeffrey, had mentioned the name of her father, George Stacy. And this information couldn't have failed to reach Fisk's ears.
Why? Why couldn't I have put together this trivial chain without doping?
Eh, I would have to disappoint Blade. His plan to "get out of the country" was postponed. But from another, selfish side... maybe this would keep him in the USA a little longer. We would need all the help we could get.
//==============//