Summary: Tony Stark is Iron Man, an integral part of the Avengers in the long war against Thanos. Or he was, because there's someone else in that body.
Me.
Armed with a power that can shatter any sense of reality or reason when it comes to technology, I'm on a ticking clock to do what I've been ordered.
Chapters: 12
Word Count: 24,000
Status: Ongoing
Link: https://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/an-sis-si-mcu-si-w-eventual-small-crossovers-inspired-inventor.99727
Chapter 1: Chapter 1
This place… is alien.
It's incredibly expensive, that's obvious from a glance. The floor shines like it's been buffed by a super-solution. The fake rocks glow under the soft but strong lights on the ceiling, aided by the natural light coming from the windows. There's a glass table to my left, entirely clean of any indications of use, even the accidental fingerprint. It's placed to let a person lean back on the comfy-looking curved dark-red couch.
There's just one problem.
It's not where I live.
I'm aware as to why that is, but there's something about setting foot in his mansion that cements what the fuck has just happened to me.
Oh God, my mom and dad…
"Sir, are you alright?"
The voice is a familiar British one coming from the speakers placed throughout the room and probably the whole building.
"Yeah, JARVIS, yeah. Sorry, just… a lot to think about." I wipe away my forming tears. "Uhm, remind me what the time and date is?"
"It's currently 2:18 p.m. Pacific Standard Time. The date is April 24th, 2010."
"Thanks."
I walk around the place, taking in the decorations Tony Stark put up before his abduction. It's hard to imagine it was him doing it, the place is just a bit too artfully done to think it was his vision.
Then again, he did design the Iron Man armors to look incredibly good, so the man had some flair.
There's alcohol everywhere. On the walls, behind cabinets, and even an entire stash hidden in one of the fake rocks.
Interesting statues of amorphous figures are placed in various corners, and the handing metal structure makes for something to look at, I suppose.
The gym feels unused. There isn't a spec of dust on anything, but I can't shake the idea that these haven't been touched for a long time.
In the basement is the Holy Grail for many a comic and film nerd.
Tony Stark's workshop.
All kinds of metal bits are here, from hundreds of screws for each size, to a full-blown but clunky material fabricator. The smell of oil is faint, masked by some kind of deodorizer. Along one wall lay gears, computer chips, wires, breadboards, etc. Heavy machines, not unlike those found in a physics or chemistry lab for synthesis and analysis, are scattered between workbenches.
Last night, I'd be nervous about touching anything.
Today, I'm itching to dive into the things I see before me.
"JARVIS, it's time to get to work."
"Shall I ask Miss Potts to wait for you?"
"Huh? She's here?"
"No, sir. She will be here in approximately 13 minutes, but you will likely be occupied at that time."
"Then… could you ask her to come down here when she gets here?"
"Of course, sir."
I hear the door open behind me and turn around. "Hey, Pepper."
The gorgeous form of Gwyneth Paltrow steps forward. "Hey, boss."
The silence is awkward. "So, what's up?" I ask.
"Just… checking up on you. I brought you a lunch." She holds up a bag from McDonalds and approaches.
"Oh, thanks. Just set it down and come take a look at this."
She walks over to the workbench. "So, what's this?" referring to the donut-hole sized metal ball.
"A water filter ball. It's got a grille cover, right? Just stick this in a water bottle or something, it'll suck up all the crap and leave you with perfectly purified water. It'll even leave a normal chemical balance in there."
I don't blame her for looking at me with confusion. "A water filter? That's… that's nice. Not what I expected."
"You thought it was something else?"
She raises her hands helplessly. "I don't know. Some kind of new grenade? That kind of thing would probably sell well."
"Yeah. Probably. I just… have you ever had a moment where your life flashes before your eyes?"
"It did in college, once. My parents thought I was dating this guy, they walked in on us, it looked like we were about to make out. I almost got pulled out."
"Were you dating him?"
"He wished. I tripped and landed on him."
"Haven't you seen any rom-coms? That's like, a sign from the universe."
She laughs. "So, your life?"
"I had a lot of time to do some thinking about who I am and the impact my inventions have on people. It's hard to not think about how much you might be responsible for being a minute from someone putting a bullet in your head. I just… I didn't want to be known as the guy people point to and laugh. I can see the articles now. 'Famous weapons inventor killed by his own weapons'." I pick up the water filter, tossing it in the air. "This is the first step towards something bigger. Something better."
She doesn't respond for a moment. "That's great to hear, boss. I think that's a great idea. But what are you gonna tell the investors?"
"You'll see. There's a board meeting tomorrow, right?"
The Board of Directors for Stark Industries is large, with 20 people seated when I walk in.
"Hey, everybody. Am I late?" I glance at my wristwatch. Just two minutes later than scheduled. "So, we ready to start?"
"Hey, Tony! Good to see you!" The hand of Obadiah Stane claps my back. I didn't see him when I entered, he must have been just out of sight. He shakes my shoulder a bit. "I was worried you might not be here for another hour."
"The meeting said 10, so I got here at 10. Don't need to keep everyone waiting on my heels."
Everyone looks a bit surprised at that. I can't blame them.
"So, what's on the menu for today?"
"Uh, you, Mr. Stark," a man from the end of the table says. "We're all very happy to see that you're alright, but this meeting is to see how the company should operate since you've only recently returned."
"Okay, okay. I read the reports, everything looks fine from my end, nothing collapsed while I was gone."
"We're not geniuses like you, Tony, but did our best," Obadiah adds.
"That's good. But this meeting is only going to take five minutes if it's just us telling each other things are back to normal. Somebody must have something they thought was important," I point out.
Another man, halfway down the table, raises his hand. "I do. In the aftermath of that terrible event, Mr. Stark, the military wasn't willing to sign on for buying Jericho. That was our biggest planned contract. Do we have a go ahead to begin talks with them again?"
I try to ignore the flashes in my memory of dust everywhere and the disabling ringing from explosions. "Sure. That brings up a point I want to talk about, though. Anyone else have something before I talk about that?"
No one does, so I continue. "Gentlemen, I've had several months in which I've thought and re-thought everything about my life. Every day, I used to think it might suddenly be my last, because I'd been found out and those bastards realized I wasn't building them a weapon. Every day, I jumped at even possible gunshots, because I realized it might be me next." I stand up. "I'm aware that the world wants weapons. I'm aware that even if I didn't sell them, someone else would. Now, I can't control what people do. The world wants to kill each other over everything. But I can at least work towards not having a hand in that anymore."
I walk over to the window. "For that reason, I'm putting an end to our weapons production." The outcry is immense, and I wait for it to die down before turning.
"Tony, that's incredibly extreme and rash, decisions like that need time to consider them!"
"I had three months to consider it," I tell Obadiah. "So, here's what I'm thinking. Moving from weapons into other fields is going to take a few years at the very least. It's going to require we invest in technology and infrastructure we don't have, either to make it from scratch or rework existing stuff for the new stuff. We have people with families that need their jobs to pay for tonight's dinner. Obviously, we can't just shut down today or next week. But we can make a move towards it."
I hold up my hand, fingers spread out. "Five years is my deadline. In five years, I expect this company to have no more hands in any part of weapon design, production, or distribution."
"What about the existing contracts?" someone asks.
"We honor those. But I don't believe we have any that go beyond… two years from now, and most of that is just support. Jericho will probably be a three-year contract. If we take a hit on the price, that's fine."
… They're considering it. They're actually considering it. I can see it on their faces. "You said new technology. What exactly do you have in mind?" Obadiah asks.
"Good question. Check this out. Pepper, hand me the bottle, please." I take the clear plastic bottle filled with a very questionable not-clear liquid. "Pond water. Got it from a puddle near my house." I shake the bottle for emphasis.
From my pocket, I take out the water filter ball, open the lid on the bottle, and drop it in.
Everyone watches as the water churns inside and begins swirling. In front of them, the water starts clearing up, lightening in color and consistency.
One minute later, the water is clean, and the ball sits at the bottom.
"Perfectly drinkable," I remark, opening the lid and taking a gulp.
"Water filters? Your plan is to move us from weapons to water filters?"
"Water filters that outperform any industrial process currently in existence with no issue for scaling? That can be carried by anyone and ensure they don't have to worry about bacteria or a leech in their water? I think we'll find that there's a market for them. But this is just one thing, and the first iteration. I think we can start being a serious competitor in almost every field for every product. Computing, transportation, energy generation, you name it. Gentlemen, this," I hold the ball in my hand, "is going to make us money forever, and it won't kill a soul."
The next person to visit me was expected and not. I was downstairs in the workshop when JARVIS alerted me that they were inside the house.
"Tony?"
That's Don Cheadle walking towards me.
"Rhodey, what's up?" I step away from the bench and pat him on the back. "I'd give you a hug, but I've got oil and dust all over me."
"That's alright, this suit takes forever to clean. What's the project?"
"Project?"
"You know, the next invention. You're only ever down here if you want to build something, so you've probably got something in mind, right?"
"Oh, yeah! Look at this." I demonstrate the water filter ball for him, letting him take a sip.
He licks his lips. "Hmm, best water I've had in a while. Certainly better than what they have in Vegas."
"I think any water is better than what they have in Vegas."
"Probably. So, what are those?" He points to the other balls on the bench of similar size.
"Other types. Some are cheaper, some are more expensive, that one there," I point to one with a radius the size of my hand, "is for larger containers. Just other versions of that in your bottle there."
"Water filters. You serious?"
"God, first Pepper, then you? Can't a guy just want a good glass of water?"
"I thought it was a grenade, to be honest."
"See, Pepper said exactly that! Did she coach you before you came here?"
"No, no. Just feels weird." He holds up the slightly wet ball in his open palm. "Where does all the dirt go?"
"It gets sucked inside. Then you empty it out on the ground or something."
"Huh."
"You want one? You can have that."
"I'm good, Tony. Military water is decent."
"I can't believe you'd try to lie to me in my own house," I say with fake anger. "I should kick you out."
He laughs at that. "Yeah, but then who'd you show your new toys to?"
"Uh, JARVIS?"
"I don't believe I count sir, since I was watching the whole time."
"See?" Rhodey's smile drops a bit. "You know I'm here for you, right, Tony?"
"… Yeah. I know. I appreciate that. I know it wasn't easy for you to spend all that time looking for me."
"Hey, I was just stressed out, you're the one who had it worse. All I'm saying is, I'm here if you want to talk."
I scratch my head. "I told Pepper. Told her I didn't want to do anything with weapons anymore. I don't want to be known as the guy who got killed by his own weapons. That's the kind of thing they make fun of you for."
"You didn't die though."
"I know. But how long until I do? These guys showed that they could do it, and I wouldn't be surprised if there aren't a million other people with similar ideas. They might not get it to work, but I don't want to be stuck in my house, worrying about my own safety if I step out."
"You know we wouldn't-"
"I know, I know. But no one said fear ever made any sense. So yeah, I'm pretty scared right now."
Rhodey leaves after that, saying he has something he needs to do, but he comes back later with a large cheese pizza. We enjoy that, some wine (I take some Sprite), and watch The Godfather together.
As I sleep in my bed, I think back to what I told Rhodey. Because none of that was a lie. I am scared right now.
I'm scared of what's going to happen if I fail.
"Mr. Stark!" A young blonde woman approaches, and I curse myself for not remembering her name, because I know she's from the movies.
"Hi. You enjoying yourself?"
"No. But I got called out here, so I came. Quite a change for your company, isn't it?" She looks to her left, referring to the waters of the Mississippi River exiting into the Gulf of Mexico.
The water is a bit cleaner than usual. The reason? Two lines of giant grille-covered yellow metal balls. A few people could easily sit inside one if they wanted. These are scaled versions of the balls I had designed two months ago. We'd finally settled a contract with the state of Louisiana to deploy these balls near towns and cities along the river. Each deployment would consist of balls that would suck up plastics and balls that sucked up pollutants, barring any kind of natural dirt or sediment.
My initial plan would have made needing so many pointless, we'd have four sets deployed to handle the entire river, but I was convinced to start slow and make sure we got paid many times over before offering a gradually better solution over time.
It was deeply unethical. It was also the only way I'd be able to justify my efforts to stop weapons production. If I showed there was a cash cow here, the investors wouldn't care.
So, here I am, demonstrating to the public how Stark Industries is going to do its part to help save our planet.
"It is. But it's just a start."
"So how do they work?"
"Like any other filter. They suck in things, you open them up and empty the garbage, then you let them run again."
"Hmm. Do you plan to move to other states and do the same?"
I glance towards her. "Sorry, can't say. I've been told by a very handsome man in my PR division that talking about our plans can be bad for us, so I pinky promised to zip my lips."
"Really? Even if I talk about your company's involvement in Gulmira?"
"Gulmira? What's that?"
"A small town in the Middle East. Your weapons are responsible for destroying it." She hands me a collection of printed high-res pictures.
Terrorists with American rifles, probably Stark ones, standing over gunned down civilians. Terrorists moving Stark containers meant for RPGs. Terrorists doing many things or just posing with Stark weapons.
I grip the photos hard, to the point they begin to fold. "How many casualties?"
"Dozens. Hundreds are now refugees."
"Miss, uh…"
"Everheart."
Oh, yes, this lady. "Miss Everhart, can I keep these? I need to make some calls."
She raises an eyebrow. "Are some PR people gonna lose their jobs?"
"No."
I'm lucky that Tony Stark has a thing for being eccentric. I can't stomach talking right now.
Stark Industries has a brain pool in every headquarters it has on every continent, and the finest is the one located here in Los Angeles. When the boss calls, everyone drops their stuff and gets into the auditorium. Despite having a capacity of 700, it's filled completely, with some sitting in the stairs.
Honestly, it's not a typical experience for me to have this many people hanging onto my words because they think or know that I'm about to teach them something cool. "Raise your hands if there are any open seats next to you, let's see if we can get as many butts into chairs as possible." I give them a few minutes to work it out. "Alright, let's begin. How many of you are involved in weapons research? Either directly or as part of a bigger project?"
Almost all hands go up.
"Okay. Well, let me be clear now, we're changing track on that. You should except that in the coming year or two, we'll try to get people onto research that isn't about killing the most people for the fewest dollars."
"Now, take a look at this." The giant screen behind me changes to a video, ready to be played when I click. "This is a new invention that we've recently gone public with. You may have seen some news about it if you pay attention to the internal newsletters or you're from Louisiana." I click, and the video plays, showing a recording of one of my filter balls cleaning a fish tank filled with murky water with narration and subtitles explaining how they work.
I let it finish and wait a few seconds. "So. Definitely not our normal type of product, but it has the Stark quality guarantee. Quite literally, I'm the one who invented it. But I don't want them to be bought directly from Stark Industries. My goal is to see these balls on sale at Wal-Mart for 10 bucks. Buy a pack, use them for as long as you want, and then just recycle them. This is the future I want to work towards. Not weapons, but things that help others live better. These balls are just the start, and if you snicker one more time, I toss one in your mouth."
Someone actually has the audacity to whoop.
I grin. "Our weapons production is not going to end any time soon, that's just the nature of how invested we are in it. But I make you all a promise. In five years, we're going to be the number one seller for any type of product we make. Smartphones, refrigerators, even houses, we'll be the best in all of them. As for these balls, our plans are only growing in scale." I click to move to the next slide. "Here are just some of the variants we have in mind. Lower cost for people on tighter budget, but slower to operate. Some high-end ones that run very quickly. Specialty balls for specific types of contamination removal. That giant on the end is for catching macro-plastics like bags and bottles."
"Some of you are already working on civilian products or you've received your newest project which is something similar, so if you're in that minority, this next part doesn't concern you. But if you're not, then I'd start thinking up of things you think we should start building. If your idea is good enough, we may just take you up on it. Thank you."
I walk away from the clapping to Pepper waiting in the wings. "Very inspirational, boss."
"Gotta get them something to be happy about. I don't need them worrying about their jobs while we change tracks."
Once we're seated in my penthouse office, I gesture to the envelope on my table. "Take a look at that and tell me what you think."
She takes it and removes the photos. Flicking through them, she realizes what I did. "Someone gave them your weapons."
"Maybe. I don't know right now. It's possible some soldiers aren't good boys fighting for our freedoms. I've asked Rhodey to take a look at it, but if it is our fault, I need to know."
"I'll ask around."
"Pepper, I need you to go to these places. You know that anyone smart enough to do this is probably making these factories hide any discrepancies. You're not gonna find anything unless you do that."
"And who's going to manage your schedule and keep you on track?"
I frown. "It's, like, a week or two. I can manage."
"Just like that board meeting you're late for?"
Oh shit.