Research
Chapter 7: Research
Ash-
The moment Ash spotted Yut-Lung in the hospital’s lobby, he knew there would be trouble. Yut-Lung was far too sly and clever for Ash’s comfort. Ash stood at once, setting Michael down in the wheelchair, and ignored the pain in his guts. Everything hurt. Sometimes, it felt like he’d spent his whole life in pain. No point in dwelling on it, though. Ash focused on Yut-Lung. He was smaller than Ash and younger by a year or so, but he dressed the part of the scion of a wealthy family. Ash knew quality goods when he saw them and he could see how expensive Yut-Lung’s coat and shoes were. Even the decoration he wore in his hair was solid gold. Despite the decorations, Ash knew that, in a way, Yut-Lung was much like himself. They’d both lived through unpleasant things and survived.
Ash took a step towards Yut-Lung and Captain America held up an arm to prevent Ash from getting any closer to Yut-Lung. While that had irked Ash in the moment, later he would look back and judge it to be a good idea. He didn’t have his gun, after all, and he could see Yut-Lung’s bodyguards standing around here and there.
Yut-Lung told Ash that Sing was in the hospital and had just learned that his brother had been killed. Ash felt his innards go cold. When Sing joined them, he looked at Ash with nearly as much anger as he had when Ash had first met Sing, on the night Shorter had died. Ash slipped by Captain America and headed for the hospital lobby’s door. On the front sidewalk, he stopped and waited. As he expected, Sing joined him immediately. Everyone else stayed inside. Max kept them back, Ash knew. Why Yut-Lung gave them a moment to speak and didn’t send his bodyguards after Ash, was a mystery. Regardless, he had a moment alone with Sing and it was owed.
“My people say you kill Lao,” Sing said. “Did you?”
Ash nodded. No point in sugar coating anything.
Sing opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped and swallowed hard. He finally said, “Why?”
Ash pulled up his sweatshirt and let Sing see the large white bandage covering the stab wound Lao had given him. “Your brother tried to kill me.” And because he knew that Sing needed to release his anger before he exploded at someone who didn’t deserve it, Ash added, “He deserved what he got.”
As Ash had expected, Sing hauled off and hit him. It was a good blow and Ash deserved to be hit. Sing was young and angry and face-to-face with his big brother’s murderer, so what better time to lash out? Like lancing a boil, the pressure would be eased with Sing’s show of anger. Ash couldn’t fault Sing; he knew what inconsolable pain it was to have one’s big brother forever gone. Ash had killed the person who’d killed his big brother and didn’t regret it, so it seemed the least he could do was to let Sing hit him.
“He was my brother!” Sing yelled.
The punch hurt, but it was hardly the worst Ash had ever taken. Sing was smaller than Ash, by far, and Ash had been beaten by much bigger people than himself, men who enjoyed and thrived on the act of hurting people. Sing was no professional and he didn’t actually want to hurt people. But he was in pain, his eyes were red and shone with tears, and that had given him strength. After the punch, Ash stood his ground and waited, patiently, to see if Sing wanted to hit him, again. With an actual enemy, Ash might have mocked them by inviting another hit. He didn’t insult Sing and stayed silent. When a second punch didn’t come, Ash stuck his hands in his pockets. He made no effort to explain. He had killed Lao. He wouldn’t excuse himself with reasons. Killing was killing, no matter the reason. The bare fact was that he had murdered Lao. Some might have called it justice or self-defense, but Ash knew very well that, in Sing’s heart, all that mattered was that Lao was dead.
Lao had stuck a knife in Ash and Ash had fought back. That he had fought back with a gun was a fact Lao should have expected. “Always expect a gun at a knife fight.” Blanca had once advised. Blanca was so smart.
Sing gasped for breath and visibly tried to get himself under control. Around them, they had an audience. Yut-Lung stood behind Sing and looked tense and unhappy. He wasn’t armed. Ash was certain of that. It would be wise for Yut-Lung to carry a firearm or a knife; he had too many enemies to rely entirely on his bodyguards and, if Ash liked him even a little bit, he might have advise it. As he didn’t like Yut-Lung, he advised nothing. Those bodyguards were a short distance away, waiting for Yut-Lung to give an order. Max and Jessica watched, concerned, but didn’t interfere. They knew the situation. Max’s friend, Phil Coulson, and The Avengers were unknown factors and they made Ash nervous. Heroes would want to interfere, but that would disrupt the situation and make a simple situation complicated. There were rules that people like Sing and Ash lived by and celebrity super heroes wouldn’t understand those rules.
Time ticked by with Ash and Sing facing off. Finally, Sing wiped his face dry with his hands. “I get why you did it. My guys said...” Sing choked a little. “They said they saw you. They said Lao attacked you first. It was your right to... do what you did.” He choked a little. “He was brother. My only family. He... I... I don’t know what to do.”
Ash felt a little of the tension ease out of his spine. “You live. You can hate me, if you want, but it won’t make you feel better. I killed the bastard who killed my brother.” A sudden image of Griffin floated through Ash’s mind. His gentle brother who wrote poetry and sang lullabies to little Ash, his gentle brother who had stared into space, was plagued with seizures and nightmares and couldn’t look after himself anymore than an infant could. “The same person who killed Shorter killed my brother. He’s dead now. I filled him up with bullets. Abraham Dawson died in pain and fear in a puddle of his own blood and if he found a way to come back to life, I’d do it, again. And it still didn’t make me happy.”
“I know. I’m not a little kid.” Sing sniffed and wiped his face with his hands, again. “Look, my brother attacked you and you killed him. We both knows wars have started for less reason. Lao made his choice and he knew what it means to go against you. He went after you when I told him not to. I won’t go after you or yours for revenge.” He met Ash’s eyes, bravely. “You gonna go after my people because he attacked you? Are we going to war?”
“I don’t want to fight. As far as I’m concerned, it’s done.”
Sing nodded, sharply. “I gotta go. Gotta explain things to people.” He turned and started walking. Yut-Lung, after a moment of glaring at Ash, followed Sing, the bodyguards trailing loyally behind.
Ash turned to his waiting crowd and scowled. “What are you all rubber-necking for? Are we going or not?”
Earlier-
Tony-
After Phil, Natasha, and Clint had gone out to meet with Max Glenreed, Tony settled in to working. Instead of going to his workshop as he normally would, he decided to sit at the kitchen table for no other reason than a change of scenery. He’d been doing pretty well on redesigning an experimental propulsion unit to maximize efficiency when Phil had called.
“Tony, can you do me a favor?” Phil asked.
“Sure thing. What do you need?” Tony put his pencil back to the paper in front of him and scratched a few numbers down before he began to draw a rough sketch of the innards of the propulsion unit. He hadn’t finished the drawing before he crumpled it up and pushed it away to start a new one. He began with new mathematical equations and then started a new sketch.
“It shouldn’t be any trouble for you and J.A.R.V.I.S., so I hoped you could get me some information about someone named Aslan Callenreese.”
“Sure. I’ll have it when you get back. Who is he?”
“Don’t worry about it. Clint, Nat, and I have to go take care of some business with Fury, so we won’t be home straight away. Tell Bruce and Steve not to worry, please.”
The mention of Fury caught Tony’s attention. He didn’t like S.H.I.E.L.D. much and as Fury was in charge of it, the feeling boiled over. Fury wasn’t a bad person, exactly, but he was a little too fond of secrets for Tony’s comfort. “Sure. Look, is Fury giving you trouble? I’ll come over and...”
“No. No. It’s really nothing to worry about. Good-bye.”
Tony said good-bye, too, and hung up. He meant to get to work on Phil’s request right away, but at just that moment he was hit by a brainstorm and spent the next several hours working on his design. Before he knew it, half the day had gone. He had entirely lost track of time. He only woke out of his work zone when Steve and Bruce walked into the kitchen, arguing. Tony watched them for a few minutes as they argued. Arguing with Bruce was a mild experience. He had so much practice controlling his temper that almost nothing could make him show even the most tame irritation which resulted in a softly spoken argument rather than yelling. Steve could get angry at an enemy, but with friends he was gentle and soft. So Tony watched the rather affectionate argument for a while.
“I’ll be with you the whole time. You know I won’t let anything bad happen.”
Bruce chuckled. “I know you’d try to keep everyone safe. You always do. But things happen. I just don’t think it’s safe.”
“I’ll ask Natasha to go with us when she gets back,” Steve said, wheedling. “No one with sense would get in her way. You said you’d try.”
“Things are different now and Natasha shouldn’t have to go out just to make me feel better. It’s safer here.”
“Safer isn’t always better. We should go.”
Curious, Tony jumped into the conversation with, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you going somewhere?”
Steve sat at the table with Tony. “If I can convince Bruce, we’re going to the library.”
“You won’t convince me,” Bruce said, still calm and easy. “All that terrible business with Club Cod... there were police cars all over the place and people wandering around to get a look. That place is right between us and the library. There are too many people around, now.”
“But,” Steve said. “As we already told Phil - we can take the alleys and side-roads. I even know a long route to get there that will keep us far from all that mess. Besides, all the people around might actually make things safer. General Ross can’t possibly be stupid enough to attack you in a crowded city in full day-light.”
Tony couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “You severely overestimate that man’s intelligence. Yes, he would be stupid enough to do something like that. You want me to go, Bruce? I can suit up and give you a proper escort.”
Bruce laughed at that. “I don’t think I could handle all the attention from an escort by Iron Man. I’m fine here. The library will send over any books I want to read.” He hesitated, then sat next to Tony. He crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on his arms. “It’s not just General Ross, though. Hulk’s upset.” Bruce closed his eyes. “I got upset about all that Club Cod stuff on the news and Hulk felt it. I don’t think he understands why I’m upset, but he’s not happy. I don’t want to take the chance of putting him in a situation where he might feel threatened.”
Tony didn’t entirely understand the relationship between Bruce and Hulk, only that it was complicated, but he’d come to know that there was a sort of communication between the two. “So, if you feel better, he’ll feel safer?”
“I expect so. I’ve been trying to calm him for ages, but it’s so hard.” Bruce went quiet for a moment before he said, “Those kids... what happened to them... it’s hard. I keep thinking that those kids in Club Cod were hurt and alone and there was no one to help them. When I was a kid, I was hurt and alone, too. That kind of stuff didn’t happen to me, but my father wasn’t very nice. He did a lot of bad things to my mom and to me. I keep wondering how those kids came to be in Club Cod. Were they orphans? Runaways? Did,” Bruce winced a little and seemed to curl up on himself. “Did their parents leave them at Club Cod? Would my father have left me at Club Cod?” Bruce slowly opened his eyes and he looked so sad that it nearly broke Tony’s heart. “I think he would have. I really think my father would have left me there. I think he’d have been happy to get rid of me and he wouldn’t have cared what happened to me there.”
Steve stood up and went into the living room where he took a blanket off the back of the couch and brought it to Bruce. As gently as he could, Steve draped the blanket over Bruce. Bruce smiled at him in thanks.
“I don’t know what to say to make you feel better,” Steve said after a few minutes of silence. “I don’t want you to be unhappy, but I really don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” Bruce sighed and sat up, wearing the blanket like a shawl. “You can’t say anything, really. I deal with it. It just hurts right now and I need to let things in my head settle and when they do, Hulk will settle, too. It’s nice of you to worry, though.”
Steve said, “I wonder what Hulk would think of all this, if he was awake.”
“He probably wouldn’t understand, even then.” Bruce said, shaking his head. “It’s hard to communicate with him as we are, but I think he operates more on emotion than logic. Imagine trying to explain something logically to a toddler and that’s what he’s like. It’s better to just let him calm down for a while.” He gave Steve an apologetic look. “Maybe tomorrow we can go?”
There really wasn’t anything Steve could say to argue with that. So, he nodded. “Sure. We’ll try tomorrow and we’ll go real early to avoid the crowds.”
And, just like that, Tony got another inspiration. He ripped up the paper he’d been working on, threw it aside, and started again on a new design. That took up the rest of the day and by the time J.A.R.V.I.S. interrupted Tony to tell him to eat something, it was well after dark and Tony suddenly found that he was exhausted. After eating, he fell asleep having completely forgotten Phil’s request for information. He woke very late the next day and emerged from his rooms to find Steve and Bruce getting ready to go out.
“We’re going to try going to the library,” Bruce said. “We’re feeling a little better, so we want to...” he winced. “I’m feeling a little better, so I want to try going out. We may come back early, though. J.A.R.V.I.S., any suggestions for the least populated route to the library?”
“Yes.” J.A.R.V.I.S. put up a holographic image of the city streets and one route was marked with a red line. “This route maybe be what you are looking for.”
“Thank you, J.A.R.V.I.S., we’ll try it.”
“Right.” Steve put on a baseball cap and an oversized coat as an attempt to make himself stand out a little less. “But if we can we’ll be out for a few hours. By the way, I haven’t seen Phil or Clint and Natasha this morning.”
Tony slapped his forehead. “I was supposed to tell you - they went off to S.H.I.E.L.D. for something and said not to worry. If they’re not back today, we’ll storm the place to rescue them.”
Tony waited until Bruce and Steve had left the tower before he said, “J.A.R.V.I.S, we need to get to work on the stuff for Phil. Let’s make it quick, I want to tweak that propulsion unit and see if we can get the timing a little more accurate. Perfection won’t happen without a little effort, after all.” He got some breakfast and sat at the kitchen table with his tablet computer in front of him. “Why does the name ‘Callenreese’ sound familiar? I know I’ve heard it before. Doesn’t sound like a common name. Do I have an employee by that name? That’s awkward if I forget someone’s name.”
“You have no employees by that name, but Phil did mention a Griffin Callenreese, the other day.”
“That’s right!” Tony typed in the name ‘Aslan Callenreese’ into his computer. “I guess there’s a connection there. Let’s get searching.” He started small and found only basic information. Aslan Jade Callenreese had been born in Cape Cod. There were school records showing that he’d attended the local elementary school, but hadn’t finished first grade. There were no records that mentioned why he’d stopped attending. He found a mention that Aslan had a brother named Griffin. He made note of that, though he was fairly certain Phil already knew and that was the whole reason Tony was doing the research. More than likely, meeting with his old friend, Max Glenreed, had made him think of Griffin and he’d wanted to see how things were. “If he wanted to find his friend, he should have just asked us to find Griffin, right, J.A.R.V.I.S.?” Tony said, aloud as he skimmed through the meager information. “Phil said he got put in a veteran’s hospital, so he wouldn’t be too hard for us to find.”
“Patient’s rights, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. said. “Giving out information about patients without permission of the patient or whoever is responsible for making the patient’s medical decisions is surely a violation of the patient’s privacy. I could find Griffin Callenreese, but I am uncertain whether or not I should.”
“Good point. We’ll get in contact with his family so we can find Griffin. Score one to you for good moral judgment.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome. Now, here’s some info - looks like Aslan was born on August 12, 2001. That would make him about eighteen, now. His father’s name is James Callenreese, but there isn’t a mother’s name listed. That’s sort of weird, isn’t it? There are some sealed juvenile records. I think that falls under the whole “I can, but should I?” argument, huh? God knows I’ve done some stupid things when I was a teenager and I’m pretty thankful that those records are sealed.” He thought for a minute, disappointed in how little he was finding for Phil. “We’ll tell Phil we found it and if he thinks it’s important, then we can open them up for him.”
“Yes, sir.”
Tony found very little interesting or noteworthy until J.A.R.V.I.S. said, “I believe you may want to see this, sir.”
A holographic image appeared in midair in front of Tony. A mug shot. The photo was of a boy with bright blonde hair looking at the camera with an expression that could only be called empty. Tony didn’t see any emotion at all, though he was the first one to admit that he wasn’t really the best at reading people. Computers and machines made lot more sense to him than humans did. Humans really were confusing creatures.
The boy looked familiar. Tony couldn’t say where he might have met the boy, but he felt almost certain he’d met the kid before.
“According to the police report,” J.A.R.V.I.S. said. “Aslan Jade Callenreese was arrested on suspicion of murder a little over a year ago. The victim, Marvin Crosby, had been shot three times and was found dead in his apartment with Aslan standing in the doorway. Aslan was seventeen-years-old at the time but was sent to the state prison as authorities worried he would be a dangerous influence on the boys at the juvenile detention facility. The second day he was in prison, he was gang-raped and received medical attention for his injuries. He was released on bail two days after that, but then disappeared. There was no further mention of him until two months ago when he was arrested for multiple murders.”
Tony stared at the holographic forms J.A.R.V.I.S. showed him even as J.A.R.V.I.S. kept speaking. Something about the whole case wasn’t making sense. Sending Aslan to prison had been the decision of Judge Phillips of the district court, but Tony couldn’t see a lot of reasoning in the decision. There were other kids in juvenile detention on suspicion of murder and Tony hadn’t seen anything in the paperwork that marked Aslan as being any more dangerous than any other young kid on a bad path until J.A.R.V.I.S. mentioned the multiple murders. “What do we know about the kid’s murder spree?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? There can’t be nothing. There has to be something. Did he get charged? Go to court? What?”
“Nothing. There is no further mention of the incident.”
Tony frowned and sat forward, resting his elbows on the table.
“Elbows off the table, sir.”
“Sorry.” Tony sat back and, needing to do something with his hands while he thought, he went into the living room and picked up a Rubix Cube to fiddle with. “I don’t like this. If he was arrested, then he’s either in jail now or he was released. What was it?”
“There is no information.”
“You said he was raped when he was in prison. Did they find out who did it?”
“There is no indication that the matter was investigated. Aslan’s cell mate, Max Glenreed,”
Tony raised an eyebrow at the name of Phil’s friend. That was a point worth remembering.
J.A.R.V.I.S. continued, “Made a complaint to one of the guards and to the warden, but I see no further paperwork about the incident. It was apparently ignored.” J.A.R.V.I.S. had long ago mastered the skill of showing his disapproval with nothing more than the tiniest inflection in his voice. The ice in his voice marked how vast his disapproval of situation was. “There is more, sir.”
How there could possibly be more, Tony wasn’t sure. From what little they’d found, the kid had not had a good life.
J.A.R.V.I.S. moved the the holographic image of Aslan’s mug-shot to one side and put another image up. That one, Tony recognized. “Is that my lobby?”
“Yes, sir. It is a still image of the security footage from this building’s lobby.” J.A.R.V.I.S. enlarged the image and focused on two people standing near the receptionist’s desk. “This is Phil. He had gone to collect his newspaper yesterday and met this young man. Please, look at the young man.”
The young man was a teenager. He was thin and unremarkable, like millions of other teenage boys. He dressed in denim and a hooded sweatshirt. His face was familiar. Tony looked back at Aslan’s mug-shot and then back at the teenager standing with Phil. He looked back and forth between the two pictures for a time. “J.A.R.V.I.S, am I imagining things or is that Aslan?”
“Given the similarities in facial features, I estimate that there is a 99.7 percent chance that both images are of the same person. Conclusion is that you are not imagining things.”
Tony looked a little closer at the boy in the photograph. Sharp face, bright green eyes. Thin nose. Tony drummed his fingers on the table top. “I think I know this kid.” He stared a little harder. “J.A.R.V.I.S., where do I know this kid from?” The memory was screaming to come back.
“Unknown, sir.”
That made it all the more necessary to remember. He didn’t normally have anything to do with kids unless he was working on some kind of charity or he was giving a scholarship to a particularity hard-working student who wanted to go to college. Tony turned his head this way and that, trying to dredge up the memory. “Say, Phil had his phone on him when he went with the kid the other day. See if he left his phone on and if it picked up anything that was said. Maybe he mentioned the kid’s name.”
There was a few seconds of quiet before J.A.R.V.I.S. said, “Max Glenreed referred to the boy as Ash Lynx.”
And at the mention of the name, Tony remembered. It came back to him like a flash flood.
Memory-
It was a party, but Tony was drunk and didn’t remember much. He hated parties like this. Everyone was all dressed up, standing around talking. It wasn’t a fun party, it was a business party. Obadiah Stane had insisted, saying that it was a good time to make more connections with potential investors because people with money went to this sort of party. Tony wasn’t even sure why he’d been invited to this one. He didn’t even know the host.
Tony grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. He’d had too much, really, but... God, he really hated business parties. He’d found a quiet corner to hide him, but that was lost when the host of the party apparently felt he needed to be hospitable and found Tony.
“Mister Stark,” Dino Golzine smiled warmly when he approached Tony. Golzine was older than Tony by a few years - he was maybe fifty or sixty - and was completely bald. He did have a moustache and dressed very well. He was also bigger than Tony. The man wasn’t exactly fat, but he was big. He looked like he’d been a very strong man in his youth and still kept that strength under a disguise of distinguished maturity. “I’m so pleased you were able to attend my little gathering.”
Tony probably said something in return, but he’d been too drunk to remember. Whatever he’d said, Golzine laughed. He didn’t seem upset by Tony’s inebriation, as many hosts had been when Tony decided the parties were too awful to make it through, but looked rather pleased.
“I’d like to introduce Ash Lynx.” Golzine gestured to a boy standing just behind him. Ash, who seemed to be maybe fourteen or so, was dressed just as well as any of the adults in a tuxedo. “Ash is one of the disadvantaged youth I’ve been trying to help. Ash, you’ll make Mister Stark feel welcome in my home, won’t you?”
“Yes, Papa Dino.” Ash stepped closer to Tony and smiled sweetly. “I’m very happy to meet you, sir.”
Golzine patted Ash on the shoulder “Be a good boy.” And then he was gone and Tony and Ash were left alone.
It may have been Tony’s imagination - he was very drunk, after all - but he was almost sure he saw Ash roll his eyes the minute Golzine turned his back. As soon as he looked at Tony, his expression was sweet as honey, again. “Well, how can I make you feel welcome?” He put his hands behind his back and moved a little closer to Tony.
“I don’t want to be here. Stupid, boring parties.”
Ash put a hand lightly on Tony’s arm. “Well, let’s go somewhere, then. We can be alone for a while. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Tony took another drink and threw an arm over Ash’s shoulders. “Right! Let’s go somewhere. Let’s go have fun.”
Ash gave a coy little giggle. “Yes. I’ll show you a good time.”
End memory-
Tony felt his bile rise and had to swallow hard to prevent himself from vomiting. The memory... it couldn’t be right. “J.A.R.V.I.S., I know this kid. God! I know him!” Tony got to his feet, shakily. He walked a few steps away from the kitchen table, then stopped and walked back. The memory couldn’t be right. ‘I’m not like that!’ Tony screamed at himself. ‘I’m not! I’d never hurt a kid! Never!’ But he couldn’t deny the memory. Looking back at the encounter with a sober head, Tony could see the insinuations and the invitation. He had put his arm over the kid’s shoulders and he had invited him to go have fun. “I think I’m a monster.”
J.A.R.V.I.S. let out a distressed noise of static. “You are not a monster, sir. I would know. Let us be logical, rather than human. You said you know Aslan Callenreese. How?”
“I was at a party. Some stupid networking thing. Stane wanted me to meet potential investors. This kid was there. He was younger, maybe fourteen or so, but it was him. That little kid offered to show me a good time. What if I took him up on the offer!” Tony couldn’t stop it then. The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he’d be sick. He ran for the nearest bathroom and made it just in time. When he was finished and rinsed out his mouth, Tony sat on the cold tile floor for a time, miserable and horrified at what he might have done. The boy had been so young - he should have been playing with his school friends. So young - practically a baby! - and Tony might have...
“Sir? Sir, please respond.” J.A.R.V.I.S. was quiet for a time, then repeated himself. “Sir?”
“I’m here. I’m here.” Tony got to his feet and washed his face. He stared at himself in the mirror. How did a person forget something like that?
“Phil and the others have arrived at the tower. They are on their way up.” J.A.R.V.I.S.’s voice was warm and he said, “Please, don’t worry. We will figure this out. You are not a monster. I know you better than anyone else and I know you are not a monster.”
Tony made an effort to smile. “Thanks, but how can I know? I was so drunk I don’t remember the rest of that night. I was introduced to the kid and I walked away with him and then... nothing. It’s all a blank. Oh, God! How am I going to tell Phil?”
Tony hadn’t had a father in years, but, if he had to pick a father-figure, he would have picked Phil. While they hadn’t always gotten on wonderfully, Phil was calm and patient and strong... everything Tony had ever wanted in a father. The very last thing he wanted was to disappoint Phil in anyway and telling him this was sure to disappoint him. Horrify him. Sicken him. Phil would never want to even look at him, again. The rest of the team would leave. He was no better than the people at Club Cod!
“Sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S.’s voice broke through Tony’s spiraling panic. “Please allow me to summarize. You attended a business gathering and met the boy Phil wanted you to research. After that initial encounter, you remember nothing.”
“Yeah. Yeah. That’s right. But what other explanation could there be?”
“I don’t know, but we can’t conclusively say that you did anything illegal or immoral. I will suggest that the only logical thing we can do is ask the young man. It appears he is with Phil and has just stepped into the common room.”
Tony’s hands tightened on the sink. “The kid’s here? Ash?”
“Yes. It appears that the young man with Phil is the Ash in the photographs. Phil is inquiring about your whereabouts. What would you like me to tell him?”
For a moment, Tony was very tempted to tell J.A.R.V.I.S. to lie. To have him tell the others anything that would prevent them from looking for him so he could just hide in the bathroom for a few days. Anything, absolutely anything, that would prevent him from having to face the boy he might have hurt and didn’t even remember. But Tony was honest. He had many, many faults, but dishonesty wasn’t one of them. He wouldn’t tell J.A.R.V.I.S. to lie for him. “Tell him I’ll be right out.” He looked at himself in the mirror and squared his shoulders. He would face the music like a man and, when that was done, he was going to throw out all the alcohol he owned.
To be continued...