Science isn't free.
I knew that from the day the 3D printer filament ran out and the online supplier wouldn't accept candy as a payment method.
My inventions needed components, tools, and above all, expensive materials. My spider web formula was progressing at a good pace, but without sufficient evidence, it was only theory. And theory without proof is like having wings without knowing how to fly.
Athena summed it up in one sentence:
-We need capital.
-Great... and where am I going to get money from? I have no savings. Not even a bank account," I muttered, lowering my eyes. -Do you have money for me to borrow?
-No. But I have ideas.
And boy, did I. Some were a bit risky for an eight-year-old, but others... others were feasible.
That's when the idea came up.
Solve adult problems.
Literally.
Athena helped me to create a small diagnostic system for home appliances. A simple app connected to a home reader that I built with basic sensors and a friendly interface. I called it Fix-It Jr. You scanned a broken appliance - a blender, a toaster, a slow computer - and it told you what was wrong with it and how to fix it.
I put it to the test with Aunt May's coffee maker, which had been making more noise than coffee for weeks. After 15 minutes, it was fixed. Uncle Ben couldn't believe it.
-How much do you charge for that? -he asked jokingly.
But I was already thinking seriously.
Five dollars per diagnosis. Ten if I included the repair.
And so my microbusiness began.
I created a little sign: "I repair electronics. Fast service. Fair rates. (Warning: I'm a kid, but I'm good)." I stuck it up at the neighborhood store and the bakery.
People started coming in.
First it was curious neighbors. Then parents of schoolmates. One lady brought her old TV. Another, her laptop full of viruses. A teenage girl needed to revive her tablet before her parents discovered she had filled it with pirated games.
She worked from the garage. Athena kept track of income, parts and to-dos.
-You have three new customers for tomorrow," she told me one afternoon. One requires welding, and another is going to need parts you don't have.
-We'll have to reinvest," I told her. That's the business world, isn't it?
-Right. I would also suggest raising prices. Your skills are being undervalued.
-What do you want me to do? -Charge like I have an engineering degree?
-No but your skills should not be undervalued.
Every afternoon after school, I would fix things. While other kids did homework or watched cartoons, I took apart routers, cleaned motherboards, and learned more with each customer than I did with an entire semester in any class.
Aunt May would bring me cookies and make sure I didn't burn my fingers. Uncle Ben would sometimes sit and watch, amazed at how I could repair things he thought were dead.
Within two weeks, I had enough money to maintain my makeshift lab and make slow progress on my prototypes.
In parallel, Athena had finished her new application just a week ago. It took her months of work, optimizing algorithms, building the interface from scratch and making sure that even children could use it. Plus it was a secure, lightweight and fully encrypted channel.
The original idea had been mine, but it was Athena who gave it real shape. The still small but steady income went directly to the maintenance of her central system. She needed it. Its core was built from fragments salvaged from an ancient military supercomputer. And keeping that "body base" running was not something a simple AA battery could sustain.
That night I was in my bed, chatting with Gwen. We were talking about school, what video games we like, and what plans we had for the weekend. She told me she wanted to go to the park, and I replied that I could go with her, that it would be fun to hang out for a while.
Talking to her like this, about simple things, was one of the few moments where Peter felt like he was going back to his high school days.
Then Athena interrupted, her voice clear but soft.
-Father.
-Yes?
-A person is trying to break into the back door of the neighbor's house.
-Really...? That's great. I mean... that's really, really bad. Come on. (Laughs)
I froze for a second. My heart started pounding.
That was it. The moment I had imagined a thousand times.
My first real mission.
Wasting no time, I opened the hidden compartment under the bed and pulled out the black box. Inside, my web shooters, the modified glove... and the mask.
It was simple, made of flexible fabric, with dark lenses and reinforced edges.
It wasn't for aesthetics. It was for safety. No one was to see my face.
I put it on with slightly trembling hands. Emotions were a whirlwind: fear, yes... but also pure, electric adrenaline.
I couldn't use the front door. If May or Ben saw me, the questions would never end.
I looked out the window. The back garden was dark. Dark enough to cover my exit.
I adjusted the shock absorption modules on my ankles: a rudimentary prototype, made with elastic gel composites and a shock absorbing system that redistributed the force of the landing.
I had never tested it from so high. But if it worked...
I climbed onto the windowsill. The night breeze hit my masked face.
-Athena... how much risk of failure does the drop system have?
-35%. Although it would increase if you keep asking.
-Perfect. I always wanted to fly.
I jumped.
For an instant, the world stopped.
The ground came faster than I wanted it to... and then, the impact.
A thud. Not quite soft, but bearable.
I rolled on the grass to dissipate the rest of the force. I got up, a little dizzy, but unharmed.
It worked.
I smiled under the mask.
I ran through the shadows until I reached the fence. The thief was still there, trying to open the neighbors' back door, not noticing my presence.
I pulled out the web launcher, took a deep breath, took aim.
First try.
Pffft!
Spider's web on target. The guy fell to the ground, sticky and surprised.
I approached noiselessly, watching him struggle futilely against the adhesive.
-You look good.
-Let go of me, you idiot! When I get out of here I'm going to...
-Athena, make him shut up.
From a trapdoor in the garden, a metallic spider emerged with a faint buzzing sound. It walked right up to him and shot another charge, this time straight into his mouth.
-Quiet you look prettier.
I bent down, grabbed the spider with both hands.
It was heavier than it looked.
-Athena, keep watch from here. I'm going to make sure there's not another prowler around.
-I understand. You should also remember that you need to get back before Aunt May wakes up. Your bed is still empty.
-Yes, yes...
I heard her, but not quite.
My attention was elsewhere.
I scanned the surroundings from the shade of a tree. Everything was silent. Not a patrol, not a witness. Just the night, quiet... too quiet.
That was it? Just like that?
I had imagined something more intense.