Chapter 16: CHAPTER 16
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While Aidan was en route to Stark Industries, Obadiah Stane leaned back in his leather office chair and made the call. The sound of a roaring V12 engine echoed from the other end.
"Tony," Obadiah began, his voice smooth as silk. "I trust you don't mind taking one more passenger on this trip?"
"Of course I don't, Obie, as long as she's a world-class model with questionable morals," Tony Stark's voice shot back, laced with sarcasm. "I'm in the garage, trying to decide which car is worthy of my presence today. It's a real crisis."
Obadiah chuckled. "Not a model this time. It's that high school student, the one who built the fighting robot. Aidan Parker."
"Oh, the prodigy," Tony said, his interest piqued for a nanosecond. "Good invention. A little clunky, a lot worse than me, but not bad for a kid. If he wants a job, tell him to go through HR."
"No, no, he doesn't want a job," Obadiah said patiently, launching into his carefully crafted lie. "The boy practically worships you, Tony. He's hit a wall on some research and believes you're the only person on Earth smart enough to help him. Think of the optics, Tony. You, mentoring the next generation. And his technology… his grasp of human-computer interaction could be the turning point for our individual combat suit program." He let his voice fill with passion. "Just think of it! For the good of Stark Industries!"
"The energy source is the real bottleneck, Obie, you know that," Tony shot back, deflating the fantasy. But the appeal to his ego, and the mention of new tech, had worked. "Fine. I'm leaving soon. Tell the kid to get here fast. I don't like to wait." He hung up.
Tony, for all his arrogance, genuinely respected what the boy had accomplished. He'd heard from Pepper that Aidan was only twelve when he was admitted to Midtown High, and he'd funded his entire robotics project with the profits from a movie he directed himself. That was grit. That was style. And a small part of Tony admitted that the kid's robot had given him a jolt of inspiration for his own nascent armor designs. And since Obadiah, a man he still respected as a friend of his father, had asked… what was the harm?
Aidan, sitting in the back of a cab, had his own comms link patched into the call. He listened to Obadiah's masterful manipulation with a detached appreciation, then hung up. A moment later, his own phone rang. It was Obadiah, formally relaying Tony's "agreement." After a performance of excited gratitude, Aidan directed his driver to the private aviation wing of Stark Industries.
He walked into a cathedral of glass and steel, the air smelling of jet fuel and polished chrome. "Hello," he said to the woman at the stark white reception desk. "My name is Aidan Parker. I'm here to see Mr. Tony Stark."
"Do you have an appointment?" she asked, her tone polite but firm.
"No, but Mr. Obadiah Stane recommended me."
The receptionist's professional demeanor didn't crack, but her eyes held a flicker of surprise. She picked up her phone. "…Yes, Ms. Potts, there is a young man here for Mr. Stark. He says Mr. Stane sent him… Yes, his name is Aidan Parker." There was a pause. "Understood." She hung up. "Sir, someone will be here to escort you momentarily. Please wait."
On the tarmac, Tony had just arrived in a silver Audi R8. His phone rang. It was Pepper. He saw Happy Hogan, his loyal bodyguard, loading luggage onto the sleek private jet.
"Happy," Tony called out. "I think you need to go pick someone up from reception. High school student."
"On it, boss," Happy replied, heading for a golf cart.
Colonel James "Rhodey" Rhodes, already on the jet, raised an eyebrow. "High school students now, Tony? When did you get a taste for robbing the cradle?"
"Relax, Platypus," Tony said, climbing the steps to the jet. "It's a boy. My 'uncle' Obie asked me to take him along. The little genius from Midtown."
"Parker?" Rhodey asked, surprised. "The fighting robot kid? He works for you now?"
"Nope. He's an admirer. Here to discuss grand ideas with me, his intellectual superior," Tony said with a trademark smirk.
"After he graduates, I'm poaching him for the Air Force," Rhodey declared.
"Get in line," Tony shot back.
Soon, Happy returned, escorting a teenager who looked… dusty. He wore simple, practical clothes, carried a backpack, and held a strange, white case. A silver circlet, almost like a piece of jewelry, was visible beneath his slightly messy hair.
As Aidan stepped into the luxurious cabin, he finally saw him. The future Iron Man, Tony Stark. And his best friend, the future War Machine, Colonel Rhodey.
"You're Aidan Parker?" Tony asked, looking him up and down. He seems… calm, Tony thought. Too calm for a kid about to get on my jet.
"Yes. It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Stark. And you, Colonel Rhodes." Aidan said, setting his case down.
"If you'd been a minute later, we'd have taken off," Tony said, though not unkindly. "You're here alone? Are your parents okay with this?"
"I live with my adoptive mother. I've taken an extended leave of absence for my research," Aidan replied, sitting opposite them.
"So she doesn't know you're flying to a war zone," Tony deduced with a grin. "Don't worry. I'll get you back in one piece. I saw your robot. Good invention. Interested in a job?"
"I'm sorry, sir," Aidan said politely. "But I don't like selling weapons."
Rhodey shot Aidan an unexpected, appraising look. Tony just shrugged. "The kid's got principles. I can respect that, even if it's bad for business." He poured himself a glass of scotch. "Want some? Oh, wait, you're not old enough. Juice box for the genius!"
A flight attendant quickly brought Aidan a glass of juice.
"So," Rhodey asked, leaning forward. "Still working on your robots?"
"Yes, but I'm pivoting to medical technology," Aidan said. "I've acquired tens of thousands of medical data points from Oscorp's public servers, but my AI is still… lacking."
"That's quite a leap, from combat to medicine," Tony observed.
"Not at all. The terminal point of advanced robotics is intelligence, whether it's for fighting or healing. The principles are the same."
"Not bad," Tony conceded, impressed. "So where's your finished product?"
Aidan smiled. "Would you like to see?" At their assenting nods, he said, "Okay, but first, I need a baseline pain response to activate him. Mr. Stark, could you hold out your arm?"
Tony, intrigued, extended his arm. Before he could ask why, Aidan slapped a piece of medical tape onto his forearm and ripped it off in one smooth motion.
"OW! What the hell was that for?" Tony yelped, pulling his arm back. He looked at Aidan angrily while Rhodey chuckled into his hand.
In response, the white case next to Aidan popped open with a soft hiss. A fat, cute, inflatable robot emerged, filling up with air. It waddled over to Tony on two short legs.
"Hello," it said, its voice perfectly calm and soothing. "I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion. I heard a sound of distress. On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?"
"My medical robot?" Tony forgot his stinging arm, his eyes wide with amazement.
"Please indicate your pain level," Baymax repeated, then began a scan. The results scrolled across its belly. "...Scan complete. I have detected minor epidermal damage to your forearm. Additionally, your kidney function is sub-optimal, your body's moisture content is excessive, and there are multiple indicators of liver damage. You must take better care of yourself."
"Okay, stop, stop talking!" Tony said, mortified, as Rhodey burst out laughing.
"Please select a treatment for your damaged epidermis," Baymax continued, displaying a list of options.
Tony scanned the list. His eyes lit up. Okay, let's see what you've got, he thought. The protein spray is the most effective, but I'm mildly allergic. A truly smart AI would know that. "I'll take the protein antibacterial spray," he said aloud.
"That is a viable treatment option," Baymax said, raising its hand.
"No, wait," Tony said quickly. "Change of plans. Give me the bacitracin spray instead."
So, it doesn't cross-reference my medical history, Tony concluded. The kid's telling the truth. The hardware is revolutionary, but the AI is just a well-organized database. He really does need my help.
"Of course," Baymax said, its finger-nozzle dispensing a fine mist onto Tony's arm.
Tony stood up and began circling the robot, his mind now fully engaged. "Polyethylene vinyl shell?" he asked, poking Baymax's soft belly.
"Yes," Aidan nodded. "It gives a non-threatening, huggable appearance."
"It's like a walking marshmallow," Tony marveled, leaning in close. "Broad-spectrum camera for the optical sensors. Carbon fiber skeleton?"
"Custom-built composite," Aidan corrected. "It can lift over a thousand pounds."
"Impressive," Tony admitted. "You've put a lot of work into this."
"Yes, but as you can see, there are still some deficiencies in the intelligence," Aidan said with a regretful sigh, playing his part perfectly.
"Well," Tony said, a wide, confident grin spreading across his face. "You've come to the right place. Tell me about your programming."
THROW POWERSTONES WE ARE NEAR 300 FOR BONUS CHAPTER.