I tipped the cab driver and got out of the yellow taxi. The streets of Hane City were quiet that afternoon. Broome Street was one of the quieter streets. A few apartment building, a night shop and a coffee place made up most of the street. Hardly anyone visited the coffee shop these days, not with the competition of a more popular franchise a block away. A nice looking lady walked by, wearing high heels, a short skirt and a blazer. She’d just bought a coffee to go and was busy chatting on her iPhone. I smiled at her. I’d become really good at smiling. As Steve Siegel I was a pretty good-looking young man. I was a bit scrawny, but had heard I had some kind of boyish charm. I was wearing jeans, a Ramones T-shirt and a thin suede jacket. Not the kind of guy in this lady’s league. Still, as I smiled she acknowledged me and smiled back at me. Although she looked aesthetically pleasing to me, I knew she wasn’t really my type.

I let her pass and walked over to my destination, one of the apartment buildings. I pushed the buzzer and was greeted by a familiar and friendly voice. The door opened and I entered. I got into the elevator, going all the way up to the top. The elevator opened and I walked right into the penthouse of the man I was happy to call Dad.

The penthouse looked more like a laboratory than a normal apartment. That was because that’s basically what it was. Sure, Dad ate and slept there, but most of the time he was working on some kind of biochemical experiment. The room was littered with computers, test tubes, microscopes, mysterious canisters, whiteboards and such.

“Hi Dad,” I greeted the man working behind one of the microscopes.

My dad, Stan Siegel, looked up from his microscope. I’d chosen to have the same reddish hair he had, although I lacked his graying beard or glassed. “Kid, hi!”

He always called me Kid. I liked that. It made me feel like a real person. Like I was really his biological child, not something he produced in his lab.

He walked over and hugged me. Then he told me, “No reason for the disguise. I’d rather see the real you.”

I changed my body, something that came naturally to me. So natural it is hard to explain how I do it or how it feels. It must be like talking for humans. Gone was the pink skin, the reddish hair and blue eyes. What was left was the real me, a human-shaped bunch of cytoplasm in a plasm membrane. I am, what you might call a human amoeba. Probably The Human Amoeba, as there is only one of me. In my amoeba form I did maintain a somewhat human shape, but lacked any human skin, pupils or teeth. Just an ever moving mass of cells with white eyes. I would probably look quite disturbing to most. That’s why I’d created identities like Steve Siegel. To lead a somewhat normal human life. And learn about humanity.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“So, what are you working on?” I asked Dad. He liked it when I showed interest in his work. I’d learned that, seeing him as my father for four years now.

“I have gotten hold of some interesting DNA. I managed to gather a drop of blood of Maximizer last week. He was fighting The Thespian a few blocks down the road and I just happened to be picking up some pizza there. Thespian used that strange power of him where he changes into movie characters, changing into a samurai. He nicked Maximizer’s tendons with a katana. That immobilized the villain until the cops showed up to arrest him. Pretty effective move.”

“I don’t like The Thespian. I prefer the less violent heroes like Johnny Bubblegum, Godling. Or that new heroine, Invulnergirl over in Moulton City. I think a hero should be heroic, not an aggressive, grandstanding, womanizing prick. And isn’t his usual stomping ground Los Angeles?”

“He seems to become more popular by the day, popping up in other place as his popularity rises. Folks are getting tired of all the collateral damage, criminals getting out of jail without a scratch. They like that he gets the job done down and dirty. He doesn’t smack the bad guys with people’s cars, doesn’t punch them through their houses. He just takes them out with a well-aimed bullet, a sharp knife of a good karate chop,” Dad countered.

“That’s not the superhero I would be for sure,” I said.

“Have you been thinking about being a superhero again? I told you that would not be a good idea, Kid. There would be all kinds of shadow organizations and mad scientists who would want to capture and study you. Better you keep your existence a secret.”

“I know. But you’ve taught me so much about how to be an honorable, decent human being… Shouldn’t I use my powers to do some good?”

“You treat people well, act kind. You contribute to society in your own way. That’s enough. I am proud of you, Kid.”

That’s probably when a real human would blush. I’d been experimenting at changing my skin color to do that in my human form. It was harder than smiling though.

“So, what do plan on doing with that DNA?”

“Actually, that’s really cool,” Dad said.