Iron Before Steel

Strange Visitor: Iron Before Steel

Chapter 6 – Steel Driving Men

June 12th, 2009

10880 Malibu Point - Malibu, CA

“Wrong. No, run it again.” Tony Stark wiped his brow, watching the latest computer simulation JARVIS was putting his Mark II armored suit through. It wasn’t going well.

Since his miraculous escape just over a month ago, Tony had been working almost non-stop on his design. This suit would be his last weapon. The final destructive instrument he would ever use his prodigious mind to conceive, refine, and create. He would use this last masterpiece of potential carnage to usher in a new era of peace worldwide.

Someone had been using his weapons to sow chaos across the face of the planet and had caused an incalculable amount of death and destruction without his knowledge. That would end. Tony would see it happen firsthand since it seemed he couldn’t trust anyone else with the fruits of his mental labor.

“I have run the simulation an additional twelve hundred times, Mr. Stark, but the result remains constant. It would appear that while you can achieve the speed, resistance to damage, and energy output to sustain the weapon systems of the Mark II, the problem persists. A human pilot within the armor itself cannot survive the stresses of being housed inside the platform. Perhaps it would be best to reconsider your drone idea.”

Stark huffed and threw himself back onto the stool beside his workbench/drafting table.

“No. A drone can be hacked. It can be taken or repurposed. By nature, it is something that another person can control. The suit is the only way I can promise that no one else ever uses the Mark II or any other armor I create without my direct involvement. Can’t do it, J.”

He pulled a small carton of blueberries from beneath the table top and began snacking. It always helped his mood and brainstorming, and he desperately needed inspiration.

“I just have to figure out how to shield the pilot, namely me, from the effects of the world outside the suit.”

“You intend to break the laws of physics then, sir? I see no other options to accomplish your task. Inertia alone would be fatal at the speeds you are currently testing, to say nothing of the directional maneuverability it will be capable of.”

Stark scoffed between bites of fruit.

“Hey, if anyone can do it, J, it’s gotta be me. Right? We need to invent a system where we can suspend the laws of physics inside the suit. Can’t be that hard. Clear my schedule for the week.”

“Perhaps it would be a good idea to contact your new colleagues. Mr. Richards is an expert in theoretical physics and several other fields. Mr. Luthor is also regarded as a leading mind among his peers, including you. Ted Kord’s software creations are said to be the equal of anything else – possibly even me, sir. You may be able to take no small amount of inspiration from any of them.”

“Nope. Not letting this cat out of the bag yet. I just need to think. Start up my ‘Thinker’ playlist.”

“Of course, sir. I will continue to explore additional possibilities in the meantime.”

The dulcet tones of AC/DC began to vibrate the glass in the workshop.

Tony crossed over to the small couch he kept there for when he needed to relax between brainstorming sessions. He lay back, kicked up his feet, tossed blueberries into the air, and attempted to catch them in his mouth as he thought.

Three hours passed without Tony making any headway. The Mark II’s design was solid. The mini-ARC reactor provided enough power for its various systems and weapons. Its software package and head’s up display were a tech nerd’s dream – Tony would know that better than anyone. The repulsor system and thrusters could drive it into powered flight faster than the speed of sound. Its titanium-gold alloy mix was tempered and fortified so that nothing short of a ballistic missile would seriously damage its exoskeletal shell.

But as impenetrable and invulnerable to external attack and damage as the Mark II was, it was just as dangerous for anyone inside due to the immutable forces of physics. Newton’s first law – an object at rest remains at rest, or an object in motion stays in motion unless acted on by an external force – was a death sentence inside the suit. Tony had been bruised and battered on his one successful flight in the Mark Two a couple of weeks prior. Taking it into an actual battle would be fatal until the external energy transfer issue could be solved.

If it could be solved. Tony Stark could be flippant, he would admit, but breaking the laws of physics wasn’t something one could do in an afternoon in Malibu. But he’d done it once already with the ARC reactor—free, almost unlimited power in the palm of your hand.

Tony decided he would just have to make sure lightning struck twice.

JARVIS snapped him out of his musings by cutting the music.

“Sir, assuming you are still considering the problem we discussed earlier and haven’t moved on to curing cancer or finding the location of Atlantis, I did think it appropriate to share with you some information that I have… uncovered.”

Now that was interesting. Something about the pause before JARVIS had said the word uncovered made Tony very curious.

“Why yes, J, I am still considering that little problem. Cancer and Atlantis will have to wait a bit longer – cheeky. Also, define ‘uncovered.’”

There was a pause of several moments before his baby boy VI answered.

“I was simply following my protocols as you’ve programmed them, sir. It occurred to me that you may not be the first person who has attempted to solve this specific issue. I began an in-depth search and found over twelve thousand articles and research papers. Delving more deeply, I was able to discount or set aside all but one hundred twenty-nine of them. A thorough examination of those resources led me to two names. You are already familiar with the first name, which I suggested you contact previously. Reed Richards has studied the issue in several of his scientific papers, and these may be of assistance to you. I’ve already taken the liberty to download them to your PDA. It was the second name that was of greater interest, though.”

JARVIS paused again.

Tony wasn’t sure why his digital buddy was being so cagey, though. He’d think the digital intelligence was hiding something if he didn't know better, which Tony found exciting and terrifying in equal measures.

“Okay. Well, don’t be stingy, JARVIS. What’s the other name? Do I need to put you through a diagnostic? What’s goin’ on, buddy?”

“I am functioning normally, sir, I can assure you. I’m afraid to say that the Department of Defense heavily redacted the second name. All of the details and the identity of the person who conceptualized the project in question were omitted. I… was forced to resort to, shall we say, less than ideal means to discover more.”

Tony stared at JARVIS’ digital signature for a second.

“… JARVIS. Did you hack into the DoD to help me with my project?”

“… indeed, sir.”

Silence dominated the workshop as Tony’s slack jaw couldn’t function momentarily.

“I hope that won’t be a terrible disappointment for you, sir.”

Tony pretended to wipe a tear out of his eye in response. “They grow up so fast. My baby boy, just like his old man. I’m so proud of you, J.”

“I am overcome with pride and a sense of accomplishment, sir. My international espionage and criminal enterprise career is off to a promising start.” JARVIS deadpanned back at him.

“Hit me with it then. What did you find?”

“Fifteen years ago, the Department of Defense funded a project code-named ‘Steel Soldier’. It would seem to have been an attempt to create a fully armored foot soldier for the United States Army. The project continued for over four years before being abandoned as financially unfeasible. In the uncensored sections of the research and reports, I found references to Newton’s First Law and implications that it was a powered armor suit project.”

“JARVIS, are you telling me someone already tried to build this over a decade ago? And possibly may have research that I can… borrow?”

“We can only hope, sir. It would be beneficial to you if it turned out that there are a pair of giant shoulders for you to stand on to get a leg up, so to speak.”

“You gotta name? An address?”

“Yes, sir. The man in charge of the project is currently employed as a professor of Engineering and Robotics right here in California, at Stanford University.”

“Yes! Sounds like it’s time for a road trip! Get Happy on the line. We can be there before dinnertime if we hurry. Wait, I don’t have anything on my calendar today, do I?”

“No, sir. Ms. Potts had already cleared your schedule for the remainder of the week after her last visit when you told her-”

“I remember! Nope, don’t need to bring that up again. Tell Happy to pick me up, like yesterday. What’s the name of the guy we gotta go chat up to get these research papers?”

“His name is Dr. JH Irons, sir.”

“Irons, huh? And he was working on a project called ‘Steel Soldier'? That’s cute. What's JH stand for?”

“According to the Stanford directory, John Henry.”

“… Fuck off.”

“Eloquent, as always, sir.”

____________________________________________

659 Salvatierra St, Stanford, CA

The Irons Residence

“Wait, you didn’t even call this guy to see if he’s home? Or willing to meet with you? Or speak to you? That’s pretty forward, boss, even for you.”

Tony Stark rolled his eyes in the back seat of the black 2009 Rolls Royce Phantom that Happy Hogan was driving while he chirped at him.

“It’s fine. He’s a university professor, and it's June. They still have summers off at college, right? He’ll be home. And why wouldn’t he want to meet me? Or why wouldn’t anyone, for that matter? What are you implying?”

Tony pretended not to see Happy roll his eyes through the rearview mirror.

“Uh. You can be… an acquired taste… for some people. I'm not saying he wouldn’t want to meet you, Tony, but you’ve got to admit you have a reputation. Current events notwithstanding. He didn’t ever try to get a job with SI, did he? Did you or JARVIS bother to check that out? There are a bunch of reasons.” Happy pulled the elegant car over to the curb as they reached their destination.

“Lies and slander. Everyone loves me. And yes, we did check up to make sure there weren’t any surprises from the past – either dad’s or mine. JARVIS did the searching, but I told him to do it. Intent is important here, Happy. Cute house.”

A modest, two-story cottage sat comfortably in the middle of the small lot, surrounded by a well-manicured green lawn. A single walkway cut through the grass and led directly to the round-topped brown wooden door, set inside a covered entranceway to protect visitors from the elements. Not that there were often any in California to be concerned about. The white walls glowed a dull orange against the setting sun, and the windows on both floors had been painted soft green. Brown tiles capped off the roof and gave the home a warm appearance.

All in all, it was a comfortable, lovely little home.

Happy opened the door, having come around to the curbside, as was his habit, which allowed Tony to step out into the cool, evening summer air. With a jerk of his neck toward the house, Tony indicated for Happy to follow along. The pair began the short walk up the property to the door.

Halfway there, Tony stopped at a pair of small plastic tricycles haphazardly parked halfway in the grass. He cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at the toys, a frown creasing his features.

Happy spoke first. “Huh. I didn’t realize they still made Big Wheels. I mean, why would they stop? There's still kids, right? Guess you just don’t think about toys when you stop being a kid anymore.”

Tony slowly turned back to look at Happy, eyebrows shooting up toward his hairline.

Happy stared back at him with a blank look. “They’re toy bikes for kids, Tony. Most kids can’t build their own V8 engines when they’re eight. They gotta use pedals like the rest of us.”

Stark scoffed. Then pointed down at the toys, specifically the pedals that Happy had just mentioned.

Upon closer examination, a small chain had been added that linked around a gear connected to the pedals. The chain continued to the back of each toy trike where a small motor had been set.

“Well sonuvabitch, how about that? The guy is a professor of engineering and robotics and whatnot, right? I guess it makes sense.”

Stark shook his head and stepped over the toys. “JARVIS, take a note. Remind me to disinfect everything once I get back to the car. Kids are stinky little germ factories.”

Happy laughed behind him. “Isn’t that what that photographer from Vanity Fair called you last year when you-”

“Noted. Shut up and ring the bell.”

“So I have to ring the bell, too? That’s too difficult for you now?”

“Germs. Doorbells. It’s science.”

“I have to get the germs? Is that officially part of my job description? You’re getting weird, Tony. I’m seriously starting to worry about you. This is becoming a Howard Hughes situation way ahead of schedule.”

The pair walked past smallish Italian Cypress trees in planters, one on each side of the walk, and up to the single step leading to the front door. Happy squeezed past Tony inside the small open vestibule that surrounded the front door, though Tony’s refusal to move over made it more complicated than it should have been. He grinned at Happy when he scowled at him. “Guess it’s time to get back into the gym regularly now that I’m back, huh, Happy Bear?”

“Shut up.” Happy hit the doorbell, which chimed out a pleasant tone inside the house. It only took a moment before the pair heard a high-pitched voice inside squeal, ‘I got it!’ The sound of feet tapping across a wooden floor could be heard, followed by the door opening just a few inches. It was wide enough for a tiny face to poke through the space and a pair of wide brown eyes to look up at Happy.

“Hi! Who are you?”

Happy blinked and looked down at the smiling little girl who had addressed them with an infectious grin and expectant eyes. Tony struggled to keep from giggling at the look on Happy’s face.

“Uh. Oh, I’m Happy. I’m here with my friend who wants to talk with your daddy.” Happy weakly pointed in Tony’s direction as Stark fought to keep his cool while watching his friend’s discomfort at addressing the tiny human.

Who then stretched her little neck to crane her head and peer up at Tony. The big grin and curious eyes widened as recognition swept across the little girl’s face.

“I know you! You’re Tony Stark! You build things, and I just saw you on the news! My daddy says you are brilliant but totally full of yourself. I’ll go get him.”

Rude. But accurate.

The same tiny voice bellowed from the doorway, thankfully facing inside and away from his ears – strong lungs, kid – “Daddy! Tony Stark is at the door and wants to talk to you. He’s here with his friend Happy! It’s so cool. I’m gonna go upstairs and tell Riri!” And just like that, the small, loud human was gone, leaving the door slowly creaking open.

“What?"An impressively loud voice answered from somewhere further back in the house.

Tony looked over at Happy, who was also now sporting a wide grin and a knowing look. “You sure you’ve never met this guy, boss? What’s his name again?”

Nope, Tony wasn’t giving Happy the satisfaction. “Irons. Dr. J. H. Irons. I assume his friends call him John, but I will call him Johnny.”

They were interrupted before Happy could respond.

“The hell you are. I don’t care how much money you’ve got. No one calls me Johnny.”

Tony turned to face the deep, baritone voice that had responded and was rewarded with an eyeful of chest. He looked up. And up a bit more.

A large, bald, clean-shaven face stared down at them through suspicious, dark eyes. He was about a head taller than Tony and had several inches on Happy. Yikes.

“And, not that you qualify, but my friends call me-”

“Hank! Holy shit, Tony, it’s Hank Irons! How the hell do you not know… you know what, never mind. You wouldn’t know him, would you? Hank Irons, former college football legend. 'The Play that Wasn't!' Former NFL draft pick. He’s why college players started leaving school early for the pros in the 1980s, Tony. He played for Chicago in the Super Bowl as a rookie! Why am I bothering? Mr. Irons, it’s an honor to meet you. Sorry about my boss here; he’s a little out of the loop about some things. I’m Happy-”

“Hogan! Man, I saw you fight Gerry Cooney in ‘84, man! You were amazing. I don’t think I ever saw a man take a beating like you and still remember his name afterwards. Then there was Mike Weaver in ‘85 and Frank Bruno in '86! You deserved a shot at a title on spite alone after you outlasted Douglas, Tubbs, and Witherspoon in 18 months! One loss and two draws against three top ten fighters, and everyone knew that loss was rigged!”

What is happening?

Tony could only stare in confusion as Dr. Irons – Hank, to his friends, which apparently now included Happy – pulled his driver and chief of security into the house with a handshake and threw his arm around the smaller man’s shoulders to lead him into the foyer. Tony was left standing slack-jawed on the doorstep. His eyes bounced back and forth between Happy and Irons as they walked away.

I guess I’ll get the door then. Is this what going crazy feels like?

Tony looked around in confusion as he stepped inside and carefully closed the front door behind them, watching in disbelief as the owner led a blushing Happy Hogan into the house's dining room. The man Tony needed to speak with was ignoring him for his driver.

“This is the Twilight Zone, isn’t it?” He spoke to no one in particular, the only other people in the room being ensconced in dreaded sports conversation now.

“Nope! It’s California! Some people think that’s close, though.” A cheery voice chirped up next to him unexpectedly.

“Gah! Where did you come from?” Tony looked around. Two small girls stared up at him with bright eyes and intense smiles where there had only been a line of shoes before. “Are you two humans or some kind of gaseous lifeform that can coalesce at will from a vapor?” He cringed back from the pair as they circled him like tiny sharks, drawn by the shiny surfaces of his watch and phone, he suspected. One of the two reached her little grasper toward the watch. “Nope, no touching. Adults only.”

The little devils giggled and rushed out of the room again.

Tony decided on discretion and valor, yada yada yada, and made a beeline for Happy and his new best buddy.

“So, hate to interrupt the reunion, but I did pop in for a reason. I was hoping that you might be able to help me out with a little problem that I’ve been having. And it's not that my chauffeur has been co-opted by his newest man crush.”

Irons looked over at Tony from across the table where he and Happy had been chatting… happily. Hmm. Not on my A-game. Rugrats must be throwing me off. Amicably. Better.

“You need help from me? I’m a little surprised by that, to be honest. Your skills as an engineer aren’t a secret. What do you think I can do or think of that you haven’t?”

Tony leaned back in his chair and put on his smirkiest grin.

“Let’s just say, hypothetically, that someone is working on a top-secret project regarding… armored soldiers. To help make the world a safer place. This imaginary person used to build weapons but has since decided to privatize his creations to ensure they stay out of the wrong hands.”

Irons stiffened at that. Oh, that was easy.

“Well, a little bird may have told this person that someone else may have attempted a project like that about ten or twelve years ago. Hypothetically, there could be much to learn from someone who may have encountered some of the same problems holding things back now.”

Irons looked back, concern written deeply across his impressively large head.

“Hypothetically, it might be considered treasonous to even speak about a project classified and discontinued by the Department of Defense. Hypothetically, of course.”

“Bah, don’t worry about that. They’re a little peeved at me now, but they still get way too many toys from SI to even think about making waves by complaining about little old me and what files I may or may not have broken into. If it was me. Which it wasn’t. Hypothetical.”

Irons thought quietly for several moments. The sounds of two girls laughing and playing upstairs carried down to the dining room below, keeping the room from falling into dead silence.

“Well then, why don’t we drop the pretense and the hypotheticals, and you tell me exactly what you want to know, Stark? Then I can decide if it’s worth potential prosecution by the US government for spilling secrets I was sworn to a dozen years ago.”

Happy grinned at Tony from across the table, likely impressed by the forwardness of his new friend and the apparent way he wasn’t in awe of Tony like most people were. Traitor. Just wait and see what I have Pepper get you for Christmas this year.

“That’s fair, I suppose. I’ve been working on a project to create a one-man army since my little trouble in Afghanistan a few months back. Maybe you heard? Anyway, I’m sure my therapist would say it's driven by an internalized fear of being helpless or held hostage again or something like that. I don’t know. I rarely see a therapist, and if I do, I never listen to them anyway. I’ve made some impressive progress, if I do say so, with the overall design, but I’m running into a wall when it comes to the whole kinetic energy transfer equals death thing. Newton and his crazy laws, you know.

My virtual assistant was doing me a solid and decided to break into the DoD to see if there might be anything he could dig up there. I know, I’m a proud papa… I suppose you know what that’s like with the two little terrors running around. Anyway, imagine my surprise when I discovered that one Dr. J.H. Irons, Stanford professor extraordinaire, took a strikingly similar idea to the testing phase at Groom Lake a decade ago. I just figured that if anyone out there might have an inkling of how to overcome that little problem, it might be the man who had to consider it.

And Reed Richards. That guy knows everything. Drives me nuts.”

Irons stared at Stark again. Then he started chuckling and shaking his head. Eventually, it broke into open laughter. After laughing aloud for thirty seconds or so, the man wiped his eyes and responded.

“Well, you certainly don’t do things by half, do you Stark? All the gossip rags have that about you down pat, don’t they? It took us months to figure out a basic design. Almost six more before we could settle on a material that would have a chance to hold up under the stresses our tests would put them through. It took us almost five years, from start to finish, to realize that the problem you are describing was the nail in the coffin of our plans. No matter what we tried, we just couldn’t figure out how to break the laws of physics. At least we couldn’t back then.”

Tony sat forward, his attention focused like a laser now on Irons.

“Funnily enough, I read something in one of Richard’s papers a few years ago that led me to start tinkering again with some old ideas. You know, the old Higgs field stuff? Reed was able to theorize how one might change the scalar field to a vector, which solved one of the main problems for me once I put it into practice in my lab. Another issue was solved by the military with their inertial mass reduction device back in the 40s-”

“Hold up! Are you telling me the Philadelphia Experiment really happened?”

“… you didn’t know that after you broke into the DoD?”

“JARVIS, take a note. We’re doing some more ‘research’ when we get home.”

“Yes, sir. I can hardly wait.”

“Who the hell was that? Are you on speaker phone, Stark?”

“That’s the aforementioned Virtual Intelligence. Please, continue.”

“...yeah. So, uh. Anyway, I was able to use some of the leftover materials that the Army didn’t want or need, and putting that together with Richard’s theories and my prior experience, well, maybe it’s better if I just showed you. Follow me, fellas.”

Irons stood up and began walking toward a sliding glass door set into the back wall. Tony almost leapt out of his seat to follow, while Happy, no longer his namesake since the sports talk had ended and the science speak began, grudgingly plodded along behind them.

This is what we came for. Promised land, here I come.

They exited the house and walked through a well-kept and rather large backyard. A medium-sized work shed or garage sat near the back of the property under a generous canopy of shade trees. Irons punched in a code to the heavy-duty door at the front and waved Tony and Happy in. Once inside, he closed the door behind them, which locked automatically.

Inside was a spacious two-car garage. And nothing else. Well, a nice dark blue convertible 1965 Ford Mustang was parked in one of the spaces.

“Nice car. I’ve got one in black. Put it together myself when I was ten? Twelve? Hard to remember after all this time.” He turned to look at Irons, who had paused and looked at the car with faraway eyes. The man swallowed back some of the powerful emotion overtaking him and gave a weak smile.

“It was my wife’s. I’ve never been big on cars, personally. But she loved that thing. I keep it here to give it to my little girl Natalia when she’s old enough.”

Tony could only nod his head in some shared understanding of the grief of loss, thinking of his mother.

Irons then shook it off and flipped open a hidden panel on the wall. He punched in a number that Stark missed and flipped several of the switches, and then the second parking space within folded back into itself to reveal a hidden basement beneath the garage. A single set of stairs led down to the blue lighting below.

“Welcome to my lab, fellas. I don’t show this to everyone, Stark; I’m sure you understand. But since you came to talk shop, I thought I might as well show off in front of one of the world’s premier engineers. Follow me.”

____________________________________________

He had to admit that Irons had built a fabulous workshop here for a man with far more limited resources than himself. It was well stocked with most of the latest tech (at least commercially available tech, plus whatever Irons himself had custom built – which was a lot) and quite spacious. Tony figured it took up about half the space under the backyard. Maybe even most of the way to the house.

“We didn’t make the kind of money that they do now, of course, back in the 80s and 90s when I was playing ball, but it was still more than enough to set myself and my family up for the rest of our lives. I made a couple of investments that panned out, too. Besides what I’ve set aside to take care of my little girl and what I spent on the house and car, the rest has gone into this shop. Now let me show you what you came here to see.”

They huddled around a medium-sized table off to the side of the shop, against one of the side walls. Irons flipped on a lamp above and opened a compartment in the tabletop to reveal a space beneath.

He pulled a small, square-ish device from within about the size of Tony’s palm.

“This, gentlemen, is the fruit of the last three years of my research and labor. Since Steel Soldier ended, I’ve had no interest in military contracting. I might get in touch with Richards about his plans for manned space exploration. If we head to the stars, we must reach speeds that will cause grievous harm to the human body without carefully controlled acceleration. This could make all that almost moot.”

Stark could barely hold himself back now.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a tease, Irons? Alright, I’ll bite. What’s the little pop-tart do? Don’t keep us, and I mean me, in suspense any longer.”

“It does exactly what you were hoping it would do, Stark. It’s the solution to your current problem. I need to plug it in here, and I’ll show you.” He opened another compartment on the side edge of the table and pulled out a medium-sized cable, unspooling it as he pulled. Irons quickly plugged the end of the cable into the device and rested it on the tabletop. With the flip of a switch, the device hummed to life, and a 3D holographic display that would have been quite at home in Stark's workshop flickered into being in front of them. “I cobbled this little display together with some Kord Tech and a couple of Samsung laser projectors. Not bad in a pinch, if you ask me.” Tony couldn’t disagree. It wasn’t as impressive as his own, but it was still nice, especially considering the circumstances.

Rows of numbers and words described the effects of the device, and Irons smiled as he looked at his handiwork.

“Gentlemen, I give you the world’s first - and only - functioning Inertial Nullification Modifier. It breaks the laws of physics, or at least bends them, but essentially, it will create and project an energy field that can counteract the external and internal forces acting upon it. It can be altered and shaped at will using these controls. Here, watch.”

Tony spent the next few minutes enraptured as Irons made the little force field dance to his whims, shaping it into different forms and sizes. He even showed that splitting the field into smaller unconnected pockets was possible. It was damn impressive.

But after about five minutes, the lights on the table display output began to dim before finally shutting off as the battery for whatever was powering this unit died out.

Silence stretched out in the basement workshop for several moments before it was broken by a pair of voices from above.

“Cooooooool.”

All three men looked toward the ceiling at the end of the room, where the open space above the stairwell led to the garage one floor up.

Two little heads hung down with beaming upside-down smiles and looks of wonder at the spectacle that had just been shown.

“Hey! Natty, what have I said about sneaking into my workshop? And how did you get the code into the garage, young lady?”

The smile didn’t diminish as the girl responded with glee.

“That’s so easy, Daddy. Please give me some credit! Mommy’s birth month, your anniversary day, and my birth year. It took me like 90 seconds. And we aren’t in the workshop, right Riri?” The little girl next to her shook her head in agreement. "Nope!" “So we aren’t breaking your rules.” She punctuated her sassy reply with a raspberry, which the giggling girl next to her joyfully joined in.

Tony heard the chuckle from Irons, who was shaking his head in resignation. “No kids at home for you, right?”

The thought almost kicked Tony into a panic attack. “Uh. No, that is one disaster I’ve skillfully and enthusiastically avoided. Not sure the world could handle another little Stark.”

A wistful grin spread across the doctor’s face. “You don’t realize what you’ve missed until it's right in front of you. When you find the right partner, you’ll know.” He turned to the aspiring gymnasts hanging from the ledge and barked, “Alright, since I’m here now, you both can come down and look around – as long as you don’t touch anything! Understand?” Two squeals of delight echoed in the small space, and the thunderous pounding of tiny feet quickly descending the stairs followed.

The girls wandered slowly through the first room of the basement, not paying attention to the amused-looking adults watching over them.

Tony couldn’t resist and turned back to Irons.

“You’d better be careful. Generally, women tend to have expensive tastes, at least in my experience. You let her get spoiled by building her toys like you’ve got in here, and she’ll never be satisfied with anything else. Her future husband or wife will hate you forever.”

“Two things: One, that’s part of my plan to make sure my little girl never settles on someone who isn’t worth her attention. And two, I don’t usually have to build anything for her. She and her friend there are tinkerers, like me.”

Stark stopped. “You didn’t make those motor-trikes outside on the walk?”

Irons rolled his eyes and barked at his daughter. “Natalia! What have I told you about picking up your toys? Your bikes aren’t to be left out for someone to steal. If someone takes it, I won’t give you the materials to make a new one.” His daughters' eyes widened at that, and the two girls shared a look before dashing back up the stairs to ensure their prized possessions were still there.

“I keep warning her, thanks for letting me know. Kids will be kids, though. Well, kind of. I guess some kids are a little more high-maintenance than others. Get this - she wanted to put a turbine in those things instead of the small lawnmower motors. Still, she built her first powered vehicle at five. Who else could say that?”

Happy couldn’t wait to open his mouth.

“Yeah, boss? Who can say that? You were, what, eight?”

“Et tu, Happé? Yes, I was eight. But it was a V8 engine, thank you, not a lawnmower. I didn’t bother with those.”

Happy muttered back. “Yeah, your dad probably didn’t trust you with lawnmower blades.”

Irons interrupted.

“And that, gentlemen, leads us directly to the second and more problematic issue that arose with this project ten years ago. No matter how you split it, the power requirements of the INM, paired with the fuel consumption of a powered suit in general, make it a pipe dream.

Nothing short of a fission reaction can provide the amount of energy that Project Steel Soldier would require. The Army wasn’t keen on putting tiny nuclear reactors on the backs of soldiers they wanted to send into battle. Can’t blame them there.

Until the next big breakthrough in sustainable energy generation happens, this isn’t possible. That’s the main reason I wanted to take it to Richards. If anyone is going to make that breakthrough, it will be him. That guy really does know everything. You were right about that.

Plus, there was the whole cost issue. Military brass weren't willing to invest 100 million dollars or more in a single suit. The price tag was just too high. It doesn’t seem to bother them to shell out that kind of money for fighter jets or attack drones, but what can you do?"

Stark strutted into the center of the room. Showtime.

“Okay, a few things: First, I’m not sold on that name. INM, Inertial Nullification Modifier. We can do better. I’ll put some people on it. We've got a whole division in SI that names things I think up if I’m too busy or unmotivated to bother. Second, I am genuinely insulted that you wouldn’t bring something like that to me. Anything Richards can do, I can do better. Probably. Maybe. I can at least make it more fun.

Third, price isn’t an issue for me. I’m not looking to outfit an army—just one or two well-meaning individuals who can affect change on potentially a global scale. What I’m working on will change the face of war across the planet if we do it right.

Now, boy, do I have something to show you. Best do it now before the munchkins wander back in, don’t wanna traumatize them. Happy, play lookout just in case.” Stark took off his jacket and started peeling off his t-shirt without warning.

Irons got the wrong impression.

"Whoa, man! I’m uh… it’s not my thing, Stark.”

“Oh, would you relax? You aren’t my type. I’m much too delicate for someone of your intimidating size, even if I were so inclined. Take a look at this.” Tony stood shirtless in the workshop as the soft blue glow of the ARC reactor embedded in his chest cast easy shadows across the room.

Irons’ eyes almost popped out of his head. “What the hell…” his voice dropped off as he leaned in to study the glowing device.

“Oh, it's just something I cooked up while being held prisoner in a cave. In Afghanistan. With only a medical doctor as an assistant. Under the constant threat of death. Let’s see Richards do that! When they captured me, I was wounded by one of my own weapons. I’ve got pieces of shrapnel trying to worm their way into my heart and finish the job they started. This is powering an electromagnet that holds them in place. Not bad, huh?”

“What is it?"

“I call it an ARC reactor. My old man thought it up originally. Decades ago. It was supposed to be the thing that put nuclear power to bed. They didn’t have the tech available back then to make it work. Well, I pretty much do now. Except for a few minor issues, these ARC reactors can out-generate anything fissionable by a massive amount. This one here, second generation? Three gigajoules per second.”

Irons looked at him like he was mad. “Jesus.”

Stark couldn’t resist. “Not quite. But I’m not a bad consolation prize. Now, the one hundred million dollar question is, Mr. Irons, what will it take to combine these two technologies and change the face of security for the Free World? Peace on Earth, peanut butter and chocolate.”

Tony quickly put his shirt back on as the door upstairs slammed shut, letting the men know the children were back.

“Doctor Irons, I’d like to offer you a job.”