What If ... ? 131

by Mark Bousquet

WHAT IF ... BRUCE BANNER HAD BEEN TOO LATE?

Part One of Two - Two Paths Entwine

Dr. Bruce Banner woke up in a cold sweat.

His head banged into his desktop lamp and his hands convulsed together, crumpling the notebook paper on which he had been working.

It took a second for him to remember where he was and what he had been doing, and then he scolded himself for even bothering to have to think about it. What did he ever think about anymore?

God, the nightmares were getting worse.

That ... face? Is that what it was, a face? Yes, a face. A face.

The clamminess began to register in Bruce's mind. He had to shower. A nice long, hot shower. He stood up and stretched. Yes, a shower was just what he needed.

And then he glanced down at his notebook and sat back down. What had he unleashed onto the world? God, that poor kid. That poor kid. It was his job to try to hold back the beast he had unleashed. He had to. There was no time for something as wasteful as a shower.

Dr. Bruce Banner was not a particularly religious man, but there was no doubt in his mind that he was going to Hell.

My name is Uatu and I am a Watcher. For countless millennia I have stood watch over the small planet it's inhabitants call Earth. You know of the Earth of Marvels, but there are other worlds, divergent worlds where things did not happen as you know them to. Where one change in one person's life can change the world entire.

This is one such tale of an Earth where a good, young doctor did not save a reckless kid and the landscape of world science was forever altered. Some research jumped forward, other research ground to a halt. New avenues were explored as others were abandoned.

But, more importantly for you, dear reader, one doctor working on a bomb in a New Mexico desert did not become irradiated with gamma rays and one young man on the outskirts of New York City had no lecture to attend in which a spider crossed the path of a particle beam accelerator.

But the Everything tries endlessly to reassert itself into one grand cohesive story.

This is one such tale. A tale you may call ... WHAT IF ... BRUCE BANNER HAD BEEN TOO LATE?

A freshman named Peter Parker walked across the campus of Empire State University, the crisp fall air invigorating his lungs. Life was good. He had earned enough scholarships to afford enrolling here without placing any financial hardships on his blessed Aunt May or Uncle Ben.

He smiled when he thought about them as he seemingly always did. They were good people who had no doubt given up a big part of their lives to raise him after his parents had died overseas when he was a youngster. He was sure they would've enjoyed the solitude of their Forest Hills home without a kid bouncing around the place, but they never once complained.

They had done enough and it was time, Peter knew, to start making his own way in the world.

Part of that included finally moving out and getting a place on his own. He only hoped they could handle his choice of new roommate.

"Hey, roomie!" came a voice from behind him.

He turned and opened his arms to the woman he loved most in the world. "Hey-" His greeting was cut off as his girlfriend enveloped him in a deep embrace.

Across the campus, Harry Osborn watched and his blood began, for the millionth time, to boil.

"Hey, tiger, what's going down?"

"Nothing, MJ," Harry grumbled. "Just watching Peter and Gwen making fools out of themselves. Again."

"Nothing foolish about being in love," Mary Jane Watson answered happily as she put her arm around Harry.

Harry stared at the big-eyed redhead and shook his head. "Sometimes you're just too damn happy, MJ."

Mary Jane smiled, "Always am, always will be. Let's go." She hooked her arm in Harry's and pulled him along.

"MJ! Wait, where are we going?" Harry tried to protest.

"We're going to where the party is!"

"And where's that?"

"Wherever I am," MJ bubbled.

"So why do we have to go anywhere, then?" Harry asked.

"I like the way you think, Harry!" MJ enthused as she turned and planted a liplock on the shocked young Osborn.

Across the campus, Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy looked on at the scene. "Would you look at that?" Peter asked.

"Aw, I think it's cute," Gwen Stacy answered. "They're made for each other - they're both crazy!"

Peter laughed and kissed Gwen lightly on the cheek. "Come on, we've got a couple apartments to check out before tonight. I don't want to be late for Dr. Banner's presentation."

 

ELSEWHERE

Bruce Banner raised his head out of the cold water in the bathroom sink and tried to shake out the cobwebs. He didn't want to nod off again and face the horrors of the sleeping world. The eyes had been frightening enough, but now there was a face attached to it.

God, those eyes. Those large green eyes that seemed to Bruce to be his judge, jury, executioner and curse. They were, he knew, his conscience. He knew too, that they would forever haunt him as long as anybody but him, anywhere but where he was, did any kind of gamma research.

He was damned.

That poor kid.

He'd trade his life a thousand times to give that kid his life back. "It was his own fault." A voice. A deep, low, almost animalistic voice. Bruce turned around, looking for the voice's source. There was no one there. Startled and perplexed, he turned back to the mirror, half-convinced he was going mad. "He shouldn't have been there, Bruce."

Again, the voice. But it hardly registered. Bruce was too busy looking in the mirror.

At a pair of large, green eyes.

They were his own.

His eyes snapped shut in a panic reflex and Bruce said a prayer to a god he didn't believe in. He opened his eyes and his own face - with his own eyes - was once again staring back at him.

"God, I'm going insane," he whispered to no one.

"What's that, Bruce? You're insane for forgetting our lunch date?"

Bruce shot around again, but this time there was someone there. Janet Van Dyne, wealthy philanthropist and sponsor of Bruce's presentation. "Janet, I'm sorry, I-"

"It's okay, Bruce," she smiled. "I brought lunch with me. I knew you'd forget."

"Janet, I - I can't," Bruce answered. "I've got to get to ESU to set up the experiment for tonight. It's very important we make strides here in the northeast. The Anti-Gamma campaign is picking up steam in California, and we've got to expand our influence here in the East. God, I haven't even finished my notes, yet!" Bruce exclaimed as he brushed past Jan and back to his desk. "I think there may be something wrong with the GCM," he muttered. 'Besides,' Bruce told himself, 'Henry Pym would probably blow a fuse if he found out I was having lunch with Jan. It's bad enough she's paying for this lecture circuit. He can't complain too much because procuring money for research is difficult enough, but I don't want Pym on my bad side.'

"Bruce, it's all taken care of," Janet smoothed as she went and sat down at a table full of food. "Come. Sit. Eat. You do need to do eat every so often, you know."

Bruce turned and looked at the table of food and his stomach lurched. How long had it been since he'd eaten? "But, Janet, the experi-"

"Oh, Bruce, your assistants are the top assistants we could get. I've already told them to just set up the same experiment they set up at Stanford. I'd hate for all this food to go to waste," she smiled.

'Oh hell,' Bruce thought as he moved forward. "I've got to eat sometime, I guess." But Janet's voice was resonating like a fly inside his already tired mind. She had said, " ... the best assistants we could get ... " and not " ... the best assistants there are ..."

 

EMPIRE STATE UNIVERSITY

Scientists move to set up Dr. Banner's experiment. Vegetables were placed on a table, in a sacrificial line, ready to be shot full of gamma rays to show impressionable young college kids how evil gamma radiation was.

"Should we make a test run?" one of young lab assistants asked Dr. Banner's second in command.

"I don't see why we should," grumbled an older man, stuck in a job he didn't like, but one necessary to learn about the effects of gamma radiation. It was all part of his plan. He was just glad that the difficulty Dr. Banner had in finding top assistants had forced him to hiring a scientist such as himself - one whose reputation was not the greatest in certain scientific circles.

"What was that, Dr. Octavius?"

"Yes, yes, run the damn test!" Dr. Otto Octavius grumbled loud enough for everyone to hear. "I don't know why you need to, I set up the Gamma Core Module myself, but if you must test, then by all means, test."

"Okay, then." The young female assistant closed the door, shutting off the sealed laboratory. She checked the seal to make sure the lab was secure and then moved to the back, fitting her hands into rubber gloves which she would use to run the controls of the test. There was no real need to test Dr. Octavius' machine preparation, she just liked watching the GCM do it's worst.

She maneuvered the levers, and watched seriously as a long mechanical arm moved across the room to the Vegetable Table. She sighed, the test would be much more effective if they would use helpless little rabbits for demonstration, but Dr. Banner and more importantly, Ms. Van Dyne, wouldn't allow it. They had to make due with vegetables.

The mechanical arm grabbed an ear of corn and moved it into position in front of a larger machine. With her other hand she pushed a button, and a lead sheet moved across the room, shielding the remaining vegetables. She then swung the mechanical arm over to the larger unit and pushed a lever, opening a door and watched in awe as a green light poured across the ear of corn.

The corn reacted, mutating slowly but wildly. The young assistant was pleased and shut the door on the large unit, sealing off the small gamma core. She returned the mechanical arm to it's original place and let the corn sit and "cool" on the table.

The corn sat on the table and no one paid it much mind.

And those who did missed the small spider that crawled out from the corn's green leafy husk, down off the table, across the floor, up the wall and across the ceiling.

 

NEW MEXICO

Joe Ramsey hated his job - that was a given - and he hated this part of his job worst of all. Every damn day he had to take the company car - a debilitated Falcon - and drive out to the cemetery and check to make sure one of the "eternal" flames was still lit.

He parked the rusting Falcon and headed up a small incline to the grave site. It was a large marker, larger than most in this part of the cemetery.

Joe reached his destination and checked the flame. It was out. Wonderful.

At the start, the flame had been out just about every day, but it hadn't happened often lately. People were resentful of the expensive head stone for a reason Joe had never quite figured out. They'd sneak into the cemetery in the middle of the night and blow the candle out. For kicks, Joe and one of his high school buddies had snuck in one night and waited to see which of their classmates was the one doing the duty.

They were more than a little surprised to see that it was Phil Johnson, an insurance agent and respected member of the town. Well, as respected as insurance agents could be, Joe reminded himself.

He pulled out a match, struck it on the head stone and lit the not-quite-eternal flame, leading into the awkward phase he always felt afterwards. He didn't know what to do. Not being religious, praying was out of the question. So he coughed and shuffled his feet and brushed out the dirt from the chiseled name RICK JONES and headed back on his way to work.

 

EMPIRE STATE UNIVERSITY

 Peter and Gwen walked arm in arm into the giant lecture hall, glancing at the large sign by the door:

DANGERS OF GAMMA RADIATION TO MAN, ANIMAL AND ENVIRONMENT

Lecture and Demonstration by Doctor Robert Bruce Banner

"Poor guy," Gwen offered as they settled into their seats.

"Who? Banner?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, Banner," Gwen said, this time quieter than before. "It must have been awful. I can't imagine seeing what he saw. They say he saw that kid melt into nothing." Gwen shuddered.

"He couldn't have seen it, Gwen. Not from where he was, at least. He had to jump into the ditch just to save himself," Peter reassured her. "If he was looking at the kid, he would've fried himself, too."

"Still, Peter," Gwen said a little bit louder and a little more passionately, "it must be awful for him to have the death of that kid on his hands."

"Yeah," Peter answered, squeezing Gwen's hand a little bit tighter, "but he is a scientist. He knew the risks and he took the proper precautions. That kid snuck onto the testing grounds. He ignored-"

"I just don't see how anyone could do it to begin with," Gwen cut in, turning her head away. "How could anyone create something so awful ... so destructive."

"Geez, Gwen, not again," Peter sighed heavily. "How many times do we have to go over this? Not all scientists build bombs. I'm going to be a research scientist, finding cures for diseases. What would you prefer? That I take that job at the Bugle full-time? We can't live on that."

Gwen turned to look Peter right in the eyes, "Peter, I do not and will not ever care how much money you make. I just want you to come home every night and be safe."

"Well, then," Peter smiled, "you should be glad I want to be a scientist. What could possibly happen in a laboratory doing what I want to do? Cut my hand on a busted petri dish?"

Gwen smiled back and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. 'No,' she said to herself, 'I just fear the day you create something great and someone corrupts it. I just hope you can live with yourself when that day comes because no one in this world bears burdens longer than you do, Peter.'

Their conversation ended there as Dr. Banner began his presentation.

Banner was not a happy man. Well, he was, but he wasn't. Lunch with Janet had gone well ... too well. He heard himself speaking words, but his mind was thinking about the past few blissful hours.

'Can't you have just a few moments of ... happiness, Bruce?' Jan had asked him.

Bruce scolded himself and got down to business - he needed to be completely focused, especially when it came to the GCM. He spoke earnestly, even tearfully about what had happened to Rick Jones in that New Mexico desert eight months ago. He spoke about the horrors of gamma radiation and why it was imperative that the G-Bomb never be realized. He let the crowd know that a new age was dawning, but that they shouldn't rush the future.

"It is going to be a bright tomorrow, but we can't get there any faster than one day at a time. People see what Dr. Richards and his Fantastic Four are doing and they feel good about themselves. They should. But not every scientist is as brilliant or as trustworthy as Reed Richards. For every hope of sunshine there is a chance of rain. There is a dark side to every full moon and we can not just hope that everything will turn out right because it's not always going to."

As the presentation rolled on, Gwen began to feel a little bit better.

"And now for a demonstration," Dr. Banner announced and proceeded through the same experiment the young, female assistant had done earlier with the corn. The crowd oohed and aahed in morbid fascination as vegetable after vegetable mutated in front of them, thanks to the GCM that Dr. Octavius had re-assembled from Banner's plans.

Dr. Banner came back around to the front and continued his presentation, when the Gamma Core Module began to spark. He couldn't tell, of course, the lab was sound-proof, but the gasps and wrinkled noses of the audience clued him in.

Then he heard the panicked whispers of his small crew and he turned and saw the GCM spitting sparks and the horror of the New Mexico desert washed over him again, rooting his feet into the ground.

Peter didn't need to be as smart as he was to know that something was going horribly wrong. Something that wasn't going to be fixed.

And then in a sudden, almost instantaneous flash, the entire audience realized the same thing and panic and chaos washed over them. People began pushing each other in a desperate attempt to leave the lecture hall.

"Peter! We've got to go!" Gwen screamed over the roar of the crowd, but Peter barely registered her words of panic. His eyes were transfixed on the GCM and the unmoving form of Dr. Banner.

"Someone's got to shut that machine off!" Peter yelled back to her.

"Someone will!" Gwen screamed as she felt her worst fears coming to play out in front of her. "Someone NOT you!"

"I've got to do something, Gwen! Look at Banner, he's not moving and all his scientists just cut out the side door. He'll die!"

"No, Peter!" Gwen started to argue with him and stopped. Sometimes there was no changing his mind and she knew he'd be devastated if something happened to Banner. Peter saw the change wash across her face, calm in the midst of a hall of chaos. "Go save him," she whispered and watched in silence as Peter ran to the stage and started pleading with Dr. Banner.

That's when the Gamma Core Module exploded in a flash of green light.

TO BE CONTINUED IN WHAT IF ...? 132

A nod to beezer, who's been using tables as location headers and editor's notes all along.  I'm not sure if I like them, so I figured I'd use them for this issue of WHAT IF ...? to see what they did for me.  This is also the first time I've used colored text in the body of a story, with a non-silver or non-white background.  Others, notably Alex Maggi, have been using this format style for some time and I figured, again, I'd test run it here.  I'm curious to know what people think about any of this type of formatting. On the one hand, it adds some style to a page, but on the other hand, I'm concerned that it's a distraction from the story itself.

Any comments, criticisms or recipes for good fruit drinks can be sent to the author at mariner2@tiac.net

MBQ ... 24.August.1998