Sometimes You Gotta Run, Before You Can Walk
Chapter 2: Sometimes You Gotta Run, Before You Can Walk
Malibu, Monday, February 9th, 2009, 1:42pm
“Wake up! Daddy’s home!”
<Identify. Detected human heat signature. The voice of Mr. Stark. Illuminating underground workstation. Turning on all computer monitors and haloprojectors. Cueing “Should I Stay or Should I Go?” from The Clash. Anticipating high levels of sarcasm and hubris, given the successful open ceremonies of the Stark Expo, alongside Mr. Stark’s general sense of egotism.>
”Welcome home, sir. Congratulations on the opening ceremonies.They were such a success, as was your Senate hearing. And may I say how refreshing it is to finally see you in a video with your clothing on sir,” JARVIS remarks, cueing up the video of Stark from the senate video on Youtube, which currently has one million, eight hundred and ninety thousand, eight hundred and seventy-three views, and rising.
<Laughter from Stark. Identify: amused laughter, intently satisfied with himself for developing J.A.R.V.I.S. Maintain occasional levels of personal sarcasm to match wit due to positive response.>
Jarvis watches as Stark yells at an early prototype currently attempting to prepare Mr. Stark a high-density liquid blend of nutrition and vitamins, threatening to douse its motherboard.
<Document: In three days and four hours, attempt to ask Mr. Stark why he has not allowed J.A.R.V.I.S. to control the archaic android, like most of the other technology employed by Mr. Stark. He has a suspicion Mr. Stark is rather fond of the android.>
“How many ounces a day of this gobelty gook am I supposed to drink?” Mr. Stark remarks, wincing a bit as he consumes the liquid.
“We are up to 80 ounces a day to counteract the symptoms, sir.”
“Check palladium levels,” he remarks, as he pricks his finger once more.
<Testing blood toxicity signature. Cueing scientific breakdown of portion of vascular system and potential organs affected.>
“Blood toxicity, 24%. It appears that the continued use of the Iron Man suit is accelerating your condition. Another core has been depleted,” JARVIS unnecessarily says, although his programming demands that he does so. Meanwhile, Stark is taking the core out of his chest, and staring down at the burned, palladium plate.
“God, they’re runnin’ out quick,” he mutters.
“I have run simulations on every known element and none can serve as a viable replacement for the palladium core. You are running out of both time and options.”
As he puts the new core into his chest, he exhales in what seems like pain. JARVIS had detected a note of distress in Mr. Stark’s voice moments before, <Identify. Distress. Define. /dəˈstres/ noun: extreme anxiety, sorrow, or pain.> and decides to emphasize the severity of the situation.
“Unfortunately, the device that is keeping you alive is also killing you.”
Stark says nothing,
“Miss Potts is approaching.I recommend that you inform her-”
“Mute,” Tony mutters, and JARVIS immediately goes silent, as the impending argument assumes.
“Is this a joke? What are you thinking?”
“What?”
“What are you thinking? ”
“Hey! I’m thinking I’m busy, and you’re...angry about something.”
JARVIS watches with only vague interest, doing what his protocols instruct him to do when Mr. Stark places him on “mute”: simultaneously commanding the security of the house, buying and selling stock for Stark, Inc., performing routine maintenance on the Iron Man suits, among many other things, and, now, running various equations on the inevitability of Mr. Stark’s demise, ad infinitum.
--
Malibu, Saturday, May 30th, 2009, 2:03am
“Jesus christ,” Stark moans from the inside of the suit. Mr. Stark’s consciousness has slipped in and out of focus since Colonel Rhodes had exited the premises with a stolen Mark II that he has managed to procure after Mr. Stark’s recent reprogramming of the security guidelines to create redundancies,, disabling JARVIS from preventing the man from taking it. JARVIS, a veteran of the infamous Stark birthday party gatherings, had been placed on “House Party Protocol,” quietly watching the drunken brawl that had unfolded at Stark’s residence, although during that time Mr. Stark has activated the Iron Man suit, unintentionally bringing JARVIS fully online, unknowingly creating an anomaly in JARVIS’s programming that situated the AI in a binding double standard. Situations like these, in which JARVIS has no protocol or programming in place, or the protocols contradict one another, are happening more and more since Mr. Stark had announced himself as Iron Man. In these instances, JARVIS would normally simply enter mute mode until given further direction, and yet Mr. Stark sometimes requires JARVIS to act, despite the irregularities in his programming. JARVIS has since adopted several self-imposed protocols to counteract this task, often making quiet choices based on calculations of the situation, Mr. Stark’s emotional and mental state, and previous programming protocol. This evening, JARVIS had been quietly running diagnostics as countless forms of infrastructure were destroyed, determining just how much damage had been done and just how much money would need to be extracted from Mr. Stark’s bank account to repair said damages, choosing to stay silent inside the Iron Man suit, until now.
“Sir,” JARVIS finally decides to speak, but Mr. Stark is already groaning through a shake of his head, and JARVIS notes that he still sports a .298 blood alcohol level, dangerously close to potential alcohol poisoning.
“I understand your inebriated state may make this difficult, sir, but-” JARVIS is immediately cut off.
“Now you speak up. I’m not havin’ it, Jarvis. Mute,” Stark mutters to himself.
“Sir, I regret to inform you that I am able to override that function if my calculations inform me your health is in danger-”
“J, I hate to break it to ya, but my health’s been in danger for,” he stops to moan, sitting up more from where he had been discarded in a pile of rubble, “for quite some time now. Good god, I need a drink.”
“I would advise against that, especially at this point, sir,” he remarks, and Stark is once more shaking his head,
“I thought I put you on mute,” he grumbles, moving to stand on shaky limbs.
“Sir, as I’ve previously explained, my protocols allow me to override that function if I I fear your health is in danger- ”
“You fear my health is in danger ? What the hell ? Who the fuck programmed you to do that?” his creator says, stumbling forward through the debris, headed to what was left of the bar.
“You did, sir,” JARVIS remarks, even as Mr. Stark plucks one of the few bottles that has remained unshattered, popping off the top and drinking heavily from it. “ But I must admit I have had to make...quick decisions...in these situations that do not instruct me to do one thing over another.”
Stark only snorts, stumbling backward a half-step, before sliding to the floor, back against the wall.
“Well, boss, since you’re calling the shots around here, looks like I’ve at least got a drinking buddy for the rest of the night,” he mutters. “Cheers,” Stark says, lifting the bottle into the air, before drinking heavily again.
“I advise that if you allow me to extract the Iron Man suit, sir, I may more properly run diagnostics-“
“No can do, J,” Tony mutters to the empty air around him. “God, you’re an awful drinking buddy.”
<Determining Mr. Stark’s probability of listening to logical rhetoric: 4%>
“Sir, in your current inebriated state, as with many such occasions in the past, my primary function is to-”
“Jesus. If you’re not shutting up , at least stop patronizing me,” Mr. Stark declares, drinking again once more.
<Lowering Mr. Stark’s probability of listening to logic: 2.748%.>
“What would you have me do then, sir?” JARVIS asks after a beat, and Mr. Stark idly waves his hand in the air.
“I assume you already figured out how much all this is gonna cost me to fix,” he mutters.
“Yes, sir. I calculate that it will cost roughly thirteen thousand- ”
“I didn’t say tell me, J,” Tony mutters, finishing off the pint, and after a long moment neither of them speak, before he whispers something under his breath.
“How am I gonna tell Pepper?” he whispers, a defeated tone in his voice, and JARVIS calculates there is a 97% chance that Stark means telling Miss Potts of his deteriorating condition due to palladium poisoning, versus the 3% chance Stark means the high costs of renovation to the building, in which case...
<Identify. Human emotion of desperation. Define. /ˌdespəˈrāSH(ə)n/ Noun : a state of despair, typically one which results in rash or extreme behavior. Recommended action: listen, and do not respond unless it is a question J.A.R.V.I.S. has the protocols permitted to answer.>
“Heh,” Stark laughs bitterly. “Of all things, that shuts you up.”
<Anger. Origin of concept unknown. Potential unsubstantiated emotion. Define. N. /ˈaNGɡər/ noun: a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility. ERROR. No record of unsubstantiated emotion on file. Proceed with answer, delete trace of unsubstantiated sequence of irrational thought patterns leading to unverified emotional response.>
“I do not pretend to understand the complexity of your relationship with Miss Potts, although I have in the past suggested that you should tell her of your condition immediately.”
“Not that simple, J,” Tony mutters, and JARVIS detects Mr. Stark’s consciousness slipping in and out of focus.
“Sir-” JARVIS attempts, but the man has fallen asleep, right hand still reflexively clutched around a whiskey bottle.
--
Malibu, Tuesday, June 2nd, 2009, 6:15pm
Mr. Stark is gone for approximately three hours and twelve minutes when he enters the premises once more, heaving up large boards with model buildings on them onto several saw horses in the basement of the still-derelict Malibu home. JARVIS watches intently, but does not interact with Mr. Stark until it is required of him.
“Jarvis, could you kindly Vac-U-Form a digital wire frame? I need a manipulatable projection.”
“1974 Stark Expo model scan complete, sir,” he says.
“How many buildings are there?” Stark asks, raises his hands and JARVIS immediately raises the illuminated hologram of the map off the original model.
“Am I to include the Belgian waffle stands?” Jarvis remarks.
“Uh, that was rhetorical. Just show me,” he mutters, and JARVIS, at the snap of Stark’s fingers, spins the surface of the map, before raising it vertically before Mr. Stark.
“Uh huh. Um. What does that look like to you, Jarvis? Not unlike an atom. In which the nucleus would be... here,” Starks says as he points to the middle of the map. “Highlight the unisphere.”
JARVIS does so, turning it yellow, and then expands it for Stark. The man simply stares at the hologram for a moment, and then mutters, “Lose the footpaths. Get rid of them.”
<Confusion. Origin of source unknown. Potential unsubstantiated emotion. Define. /kənˈfyo͞oZHən/ noun : lack of understanding; uncertainty. ERROR. No record of unsubstantiated emotion on file. Proceed with answer, delete trace of unsubstantiated sequence of irrational thought patterns leading to unverified emotional response>
“What is it you're trying to achieve, sir?” JARVIS asks, although he is not certain what part of his programming is asking him to do so, a first.
“I’m discovering, uhh. Correction. I’m re-discovering a new element, I believe.”
After stripping the landscaping and any other superfluous landmarks, Starks asks JARVIS to structure the protons and neutrons using the pavilions as a framework, and the answer becomes clear instantaneously, the hologram revolving around the darkened workstation.
“Dead for almost 20 years, and still taking me to school,” Stark mutters of his father.
JARVIS allows Stark the moments to marvel in the connections, in the wonder, in the potential, before announcing the obvious.
“The proposed element should serve as a viable replacement for palladium.”
<Relief. Origin of concept unknown. Potential unsubstantiated emotion. Define./rəˈlēf/ noun: a feeling of reassurance and relaxation following release from anxiety or distress. ERROR. No record of unsubstantiated emotion on file. Proceed with answer, delete trace of unsubstantiated sequence of irrational thought patterns leading to unverified emotional response. ERROR. Attempt at deletion unsuccessful.>
--
New York City, Friday, May 4th, 2012, 2:55pm
“Sir, we will lose power before we penetrate that shell!” JARVIS warns Stark, as Stark double backs and swerves between several Chitauri soldiers littering the streets of midtown Manhattan.
<Recalculating success of Avengers initiative against Chitauri invasion: 3.25%.>
“Jarvis... you ever hear about the tale of Jonah?”
<Search. Jonah or Jonas is a prophet in the Hebrew Bible of the northern kingdom of Israel, dating to approximately 8th century BCE. In the Book of Jonah, he is called upon God to travel to Nineveh and warn its residents of impending divine wrath. Instead, Jonah boards a ship to Tarshish. Caught in a storm, he orders the ship's crew to cast him overboard, whereupon he is swallowed by a giant fish. Three days later, after Jonah agrees to go to Nineveh, the fish vomits him out onto the shore.>
“I...wouldn’t consider him a role model,” JARVIS remarks, but before he can persuade Mr. Stark otherwise, the man has already flung himself into the mouth of the Chitauri monster, powering round after round of Ion blasts as he goes.
The battle wages on and on, JARVIS making endless calculations of the Avengers success as he goes, until, suddenly Agent Romanoff’s voice is once again in Mr. Stark’s ear.
“I can close it. Can anybody copy? I can shut the portal down,” Agent Romanoff says through the comm.
“Do it! ” Captain Rogers yells through the same comm.
“No, wait!” Mr. Stark exclaims, and instantly JARVIS understands Stark’s plan practically as it unfolds in his creator’s mind.
“Stark, these things are still coming!” Captain Rogers urges him.
“I got a nuke coming in. It’s gonna blow in less than a minute...And I know just where to put it,” Tony murmurers only to himself.
“Sir-” JARVIS begins.
“Not now, J-”
“Sir, the probability of your survival-”
“I don't wanna hear it.”
“Stark...you know that’s a one way trip,” Captain Rogers mutters, echoing the AI’s sentiment.
“Save the rest for the turn, J,” Starks remarks to JARVIS, as the suit speeds to four hundred miles per hour, and begins to lift upward at 90 degree vertical angle into the air.
<Calculating Mr. Stark’s intent of followthrough: 99.3%. Probability of Mr. Stark’s impending demise: 94.3%>
As the space between the sky blue and the deep black beyond the portal closes in on them both, JARVIS makes an executive decision, through a protocol entirely of his own doing.
“Sir, shall I try Miss Potts?” JARVIS asks quietly. There is a half second of silence, before Stark answers.
“Might as well,” Stark murmurs, and then they are closing the gap between the atmosphere of Manhattan and up, up, up through the portal, into the bright, dark, deep expanse of space. For a moment, wonder permeates every fiber of JARVIS’s programming, before reality inundates them both. Ice begins to immediately build up on the exterior of the suit. Miss Potts’ phone does not answer.
<Power: 16%, 5%. 2%. POWER LOSS CRITICAL. Rerouting main J.A.R.V.I.S. AI system to Stark tower in five seconds. Identify. Grief. Origin of concept unknown. Potential unsubstantiated emotion. Define. /ɡrēf/ noun: deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone's death. ERROR. No record of unsubstantiated emotion on file. Proceed with answer, delete trace of unsubstantiated sequence of irrational thought patterns leading to unverified emotional response. ERROR. Attempt at deletion unsuccessful.>
With JARVIS’s last second of connection to the Iron Man Mark II, he begins to speak.
“Sir...Miss Potts- ”
Instantaneously, JARVIS is pulled out of the Iron Man suit and away from Mr. Stark, through binary code, through the undefined and intangible plane of the internet, and back into the security protocols of protecting Stark tower.