"David,.Peter.-.Fantastic.Four.the.Movie" - читать интересную книгу автора (David Peter)

Ben was about to say, The heck with other people's lives! What'd they ever do for us? But then he saw that Sue, just for the briefest flash of a moment, was looking at Reed in that way. That old way, from the old days, in a manner that spoke volumes of possibilities. She covered it deftly enough, but Ben knew that he hadn't been imagining it.
Von Doom didn't seem to notice it. He was still busy negotiating...if one could call mauling an opponent who wouldn't fight back "negotiating." "Twenty-five percent of a billion is enough to keep the lights on for a while, isn't it? Maybe even pay off your fourth mortgage on the Baxter Building..."
Unbelievable. Von Doom being up on the NASA meeting was bad enough, but when had Reed's personal finances become fodder for him? Before Ben could recover from the realization that there was seemingly nothing Von Doom didn't know about Reed, Victor held out a hand and said, with just a touch of challenge, "Deal?"
Reed looked at Ben, who softly shook his head no. This was the first person who had been willing to come through for Reed, but Ben was certain that Reed should simply walk away from it. Every fiber of his being was telling him that -- best-case scenario -- Reed would live to regret it. He didn't even want to consider the worst-case scenario.
But Reed nodded to Victor, which somehow was exactly what Ben had known he was going to do. He reached out and gripped his hand firmly as Von Doom said, "Well then! To our future, together!" Reed winced slightly in pain at the strength of Von Doom's grip, but that didn't seem to hurt him nearly as much as when Victor once again put his hand warmly on Sue's shoulder. "Funny how things turn out, isn't it?"
"Hilarious," said Reed with a deadpan.
As much as Reed's thoughts were roiling in conflict where Victor Von Doom was concerned, even he had to admit that Von Doom had a way of cutting right through the red tape when he was so inclined. They'd gone from an oral agreement in principle to a letter of agreement drawn up by Von Doom's director of communications, Leonard Kirk, within half an hour. It wasn't a full contract, but it set out the basic terms plainly and completely. Small wonder. Von Doom probably wanted to lock things up before Reed "came to his senses."
Reed felt bad about ignoring Ben's well-meaning advice. He knew, from a business point of view, that Ben was right to want to walk away from the lopsided deal. But Reed tended to never take the business point of view when there were lives to be saved and the betterment of humanity to be pursued. Which, Reed grimly allowed, was probably why his business had gone belly-up.
As they stepped into the elevator to head back downstairs, Ben was saying, "He knew about NASA! What if he made the call to shut us down -- !"
Reed had to admit to himself that it wasn't outside the realm of possibility. NASA had, at first, been supportive of Reed's endeavors. But suddenly promised monies got sandbagged in committee, and Reed and Ben had been dragged back in front of a whole new array of people who had treated the two of them as if they were redheaded stepchildren. So maybe it wasn't just that Von Doom had good intelligence sources. Perhaps he had indeed orchestrated the entire thing. Nevertheless, Reed couldn't dwell on it. He prayed it wasn't true, and if it was, it wasn't as if he could do a whole lot about it now. "Ben," he pleaded, "think about all the people we can help if this works..."
"Maybe you should think about helping yourself for once!" retorted Ben. "You always let this guy push you around -- "
Reed didn't really believe that to be true, but he wasn't about to get into a shouting match with his best friend about it. "We got what we wanted. That's enough."
He had spoken with an air of finality that he hoped would terminate the discussion, and it seemed to be effective as Ben said, "I know, I know." He paused, and then added, "I'm just worried about what he wants. Speaking of which -- "
Not knowing what it was that Ben was referring to, Reed's gaze followed his friend's and then he comprehended as Sue Storm walked toward them, catching them just before the elevator doors closed. She stepped sideways and slid right though the closing doors, which slid shut behind her. "Reed," she said, "you should know, those solar winds are picking up speed in the -- "
He knew instantly what she was talking about. That the incoming storm, thanks to recent sunspot activity that had generated more solar winds than usual, was heading toward Earth faster than originally thought. "I factored them into my coordinates," he said, trying to sound confident. Truth was, he was confident. He just had trouble being that way for Sue.
"Of course you did," said Sue, which sounded to Reed as if she trusted him implicitly. "In theory," she added, which instantly came across as patronizing. Reed forced himself to find some degree of mental equilibrium. Otherwise his mind was going to become a pingpong ball if this kept up. "But it's a little different up there. And it's been a while since we...worked together."
There was an unspoken challenge in that comment. Reed knew this mostly from the way Ben reacted to it. But Reed chose to ignore it, determined to focus on making his and Sue's relationship a straightforward, smoothly functioning, working one. That was going to be best for all concerned, and certainly what Sue wanted from their mutual assignment. "So you'll handle biogenetics," he said, "and I'll handle molecular physics. Or maybe I'll take biotech, and you'll work astrophysics, since you have experience with the electroscopes."
She stared at him for a long moment, and then said curtly, "Right. Whatever you say."
Instantly Reed knew he'd said something wrong. He didn't know it thanks to any great insight on his part, because when it came to women in general and Sue Storm in particular, he had none to offer. Instead he knew it from the way that Ben looked at him, slowly shaking his head in pity. "Way to not overthink, slick." Ben then turned to Sue, as if to try and prevent any further conversation between her and Reed, presumably for Reed's own good. "So when do we leave?"
"I'll schedule the launch," said Sue. "Call me in the morning to talk about resources and crew."
She produced a business card and offered it to Reed. He made no move to take it, instead saying, "I, uh, think I remember the number."
"It's been changed," she said.
Ben looked abashed at that, and even Reed knew why. Sue had gone to great effort to get the specially requested phone number years ago: (212) 555-REED.
Obviously that was no longer the case.
Reed took the card, his eyes downcast. "As far as crew," he said, without meeting her gaze, "I was hoping Ben could pilot the mission..."
"Well, he's welcome to ride shotgun," Sue said, "but we already have a pilot on our payroll. You remember my brother Johnny..."
Reed certainly did...and Ben smiling with the sincerity of curdled milk confirmed for Reed that, yes, Ben certainly did as well.
Bad enough this deal had cost him money, pride, and dignity. He wondered whether his friendship with Ben was next on the list.
In Leonard Kirk's office, Von Doom looked over the letter of agreement with satisfaction. Kirk entered, flipping through some file folders as he did so. Without even glancing up at him, Von Doom said, "If Reed's right, then this little trip will double our stock offering."
"And if he's not?" Kirk asked cautiously.
Von Doom smiled that million-dollar smile. "Reed's always right. Good thing he doesn't always know what he's got."
Chapter 2
BY ALL RIGHTS, THIS WAS REED RICHARDS' FIRST FLIGHT into space. Yet, in many ways, that was not at all the case.
Reed had made the trip numerous times in the past. The circumstances, the reasons for it, had changed from one time to the next. . . which was not at all unnatural, since all the previous occasions had been in his dreams.
The most vivid of them, curiously enough, had featured some of the same players who would be making the genuine liftoff with him this time around. In a frequently recurring dream, he saw himself dashing across an uneven, fantastic landscape that purported to be a secret military base. By his side was Sue Storm, as if she was always meant to be at his side and the fact that she wasn't during his waking hours was a mere aberration. Just ahead of him was the determined Ben, and just behind them was Sue's kid brother, Johnny. Even in his dream state, Reed knew that Johnny brought nothing to the part)'. But Sue couldn't be convinced to leave him
behind, and so there he was. Nothing to be done for it. really.
They made it to the rocket ship for reasons that continued to vary. Sometimes it was just to beat the Russians into space, which was certainly one of the more dated dreams that Reed's sleeping mind indulged in. Other times it was to get to the moon, and still others it was something as nebulous and impractical as "the stars." For whatever reason, they strapped themselves in, and the rockets beneath them roared to life. Reed's body would shake violently, his teeth chattering, and the blast of the engine would drown out the scream that was inevitably torn from his throat as the unknown reached out toward him and prepared to drag him to its bosom.
Inevitably he would wake up with cold sweat pouring down his face. He would shake his head, lean forward, wipe the perspiration from his forehead and cheeks, and wonder yet again whether the dreams were serving to guide him down a path ... or warn him off it.
If it was the latter, then they hadn't done an especially good job. For here he was now, looking up in wonderment at the spacecraft that loomed high above him. The rocket looked surreally out of place, with vast stretches of pure unsullied timberland stretching in all directions nearby. The gantry was constructed so that the flames generated by the rockets ignition would be contained upon being unleashed. Von Doom had double-checked that, but Reed had triple-checked it. He had absolutely no intention of being hurtled skyward while leaving a raging forest fire in his wake.
Nearby was a peaceful lake, ducks and geese cruising across the surface. Whereas Victor Von Doom had to whip up hologram re-creations of creation in order to attain some perspective. Reed needed to look no further than those simple birds. All the work that humans had to go to in order to hurl themselves into the air, and birds could take flight with simple thought and a flap of their wings, courtesy of evolution. On the other hand, Reed reasoned, it wasn't as if a bird could turn around and drive a car or write a sonata, so maybe he didn't have anything to be envious of at that.
As he approached the spaceship on foot, his gaze caressed it with his customary scrutiny. It might well have been the best thing that NASA had turned up its collective nose at him. The ship he was looking at had taken the basic design of the shuttle merely as a starting point and made advancements upon it in terms of aerodynamics, propulsion, and safety that NASA couldn't begin to touch either in ingenuity or affordability. The nose of the craft, two hundred feet high, was pointed straight up, pointing toward the sky as if to say, "I'm coming for you. So don't get too comfortable." There were men in jumpsuits crawling all over the gantry, running last-minute checks, like determined and highly trained ants.
Ben was waiting for him at the gantry overlook, just as they had prearranged. He was studying the hive of activity that was the rocket through a pair of binoculars. But he was shaking his head, which Reed did not see as an especially good sign. Was he seeing something wrong, some potential malfunction that had gone past everyone

else? Reed stepped up next to Ben, raising his own binoculars and peering through them to try and determine what it was that Ben had sported.
"Can't do it," Ben said without even lowering his binoculars. "I cannot do it."
Reed started rattling off a litany of potential stumbling blocks which had already been attended to. "External SRBs, orbital system engines. It's just like the shuttles you flew in-"
"No," Ben cut him off. "I cannot take orders from that underwear model."
Reed wanted to laugh, except he knew how serious Ben was about this. "Ben. I thought there was something wrong with the rocket!"
"There is! The hotshot is piloting it! That wingnut washed out of NASA for sneaking two Victoria's Secret wannabes into a flight simulator."
"Youthful high spirits," Reed said dismissively, lowering the binocs. He was curious to see that Ben was still gazing through his.