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Book online «Hulk Peter David (best motivational novels txt) 📖». Author Peter David



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the equipment was still functional. There’d likely be radiation leaks throughout the lab, but David Banner didn’t give a damn about that.

Banner wasted no time, since he had no idea how much time he had. His babies, his glorious hounds of hell, had not returned to him. That led him to suspect that their assault on Betty Ross had not gone successfully. It had, however, succeeded as far as David Banner was concerned, because their failure meant that his son had managed to take on all three of the creatures single-handedly. His son, having assumed the great and glorious shape that was his birthright, had more than lived up to his father’s expectations. No father could have asked for more.

And as the son had beaten the path, so now would the father follow it.

Swiftly, with the focused drive of someone who has been waiting for this moment his entire life, he rigged up a series of makeshift reflectors around the edge of the vacuum tubes protruding into the room. Fine beads of sweat built up on his forehead, and his breathing came faster and faster. He caressed the mirrors as he set them into place, ran his hands lovingly over the instrumentation as he brought the power on line and set the dials.

As he walked into the midst of the chamber with the mechanisms on a time release, he felt as if time had slowed down, as if the world had turned to liquid and he was moving through it in a dreamlike state. Everything, everything had built to this moment, and he stood there, mentally counting down the moments, waiting, waiting, and finally there was a loud click that told him everything had come together, fallen into place just as he had planned it—hell, better than he’d planned it. He spread wide his arms and bathed in the light and radiation that filled the wrecked gammasphere, the open canister emitting gas filled with nanomeds, while the gamma radiation bathed him in its glorious light.

Images spun through his head. He was living and dying all at the same time, his life flashing before his eyes as if he were about to die—and in a way he was. The man he had been was dead. He would bear as much resemblance to normal men as normal men did to the lower primates. For, unlike his son who had the strength but not the resolve, he would harness the forces now rampant in his body and use them to accomplish . . .

. . . anything.

He would be able to do anything. He would be more powerful than God, because God was so afraid of his creation that he hid in his heavens lest he be seen. But David Banner would have the powers of a God, and yet would walk among his subjects, and his vengeance would be great and powerful.

A blissful smile filled his face, and then abruptly the gammasphere shut down. The light was restored to normal. Slowly he opened his eyes, looked around, and sagged to his knees. He held up his arms and studied them. No signs of radiation poisoning, no blistered skin, no nothing. No outward signs of physical distress. That alone told him everything he needed to know, for he wouldn’t have been able to survive the gamma ray exposure if it had not worked.

But it had worked.

“Yes,” David Banner said in low triumph. He grabbed the edge of a metal table to help him stand, and looked down at his hand. It had been cut slightly on the edge of the table when his hand had brushed against it, leaving a tiny rip, a thin strip of blood. He took a handkerchief, and held it to his hand . . .

. . . and the tissue around the cut began to take on the characteristics of the cotton cloth.

David Banner gasped and yanked the kerchief away. He gaped at the point of contact, shook his hand out, and looked again. Upon second inspection the skin now seemed utterly normal. He frowned, wondering if he had imagined it.

Then, out of curiosity, he pressed his hand against the silver metal table. At first nothing happened, but then he felt an odd tingling, the blood and flesh and tissue beginning to alter their composition. They took on a distinct metallic glow, and this time when he moved his hand away, it maintained that silver look.

Wasting no time lest the absorbing effects fade again, he whirled and smashed his hand into the wall. It went right through with a crunch, and not only did it do so easily, but he didn’t even feel the impact.

He had expected nothing like this at all—but in the world of science, one must always be prepared to allow for variables. His mind was already racing, considering the possibilities, and he laughed loudly in delight as he yanked his hand clear and studied it, holding it up to the light. The metallic properties were still there. The absorption had been retained far longer this time. Would it remain this way? If he touched something else, would those new properties replace what he already had, or supplement them? Would the retention time increase each time he used it, or was there a maximum?

Questions, dozens of questions, tumbled through his mind as he flexed his metal hand and envisioned it squeezing the world in a viselike grip.

At that moment, the door to the lab opened. He turned and saw a befuddled guard standing there. The guard was slightly paunchy, an older man, squinting in the light of the lab and looking in confusion at what appeared to be a regular janitor who, for some reason, was laughing like a madman.

“What’s happening here?” he asked.

Banner took a step forward, practically thrusting the hand into the guard’s face. “Look! My hand,” he said with escalating excitement. “You see, the strength of my son’s DNA, combined with the radiant energy, it’s transformed my cells, allowing them, after exposure

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