Chapter 3.1- All of Infinity in the Palm of my Hands

“Clark. Can I call you Clark? Well, Clark, I’ve heard loads about you. Some call you my second coming, you know,” Stark had a motor mouth. He spoke quickly and barely ever without stopping. On the walk to the private office, we’d already spoken about close to three topics. By "spoken," I mean he’d talked at me while I had the decency not to interrupt him. Considering he’d stopped this time, it seemed like he was finally interested in getting my own take on something.

“That makes no sense,” I relented and engaged him.

“Of course it doesn’t. I’m me.”

“I meant we have completely different focuses. I’m the computer guy, and you’re the Weapon of Mass Destruction guy.” The last bit was just to irritate him.

“Ex-weapon of mass destruction guy, I’ll have you know. I’m more interested in consumer products these days.”

“Not a popular choice.”

“Yeah, the stock market guys are having a field day with it. I’ve gone from the richest guy in the world to the second richest and back again more times than I can count.”

“Well, suddenly getting kidnapped, being rescued, and then announcing a new direction for your company, and then arresting your Chief Operating Officer before rounding things up by declaring yourself a superhero is a lot to digest in the span of a few months,” I commented drily.

“I see your point. I see it. But that’s not why I called you here.” Finally, getting to make some progress.

“But before that, though. How’s MIT treating you? Have the old foggies managed to become less annoying in the time since I’ve been gone?”

“Oh. The place is lovely. A few arseholes here and there, but altogether, I can’t really complain. I get my space to do my own thing.”

“You’ve got Wilson, don’t you? The fucking asshole failed me in my time.”

“You didn’t attend the classes?”

“Thought it was a bluff.”

“Well, that didn’t end up going well for you, did it?”

“He’s the only lecturer who does that bit. ‘Attendance in my classes is very mandatory.’” He said the last bit in a pretty good impersonation of the MIT Programming Theory Professor, and I was ashamed of the way I burst into a full-bellied laugh at the joke.

Without my powers, I wouldn’t have noticed the glint in his eyes when I finally laughed. Oh, Stark is good. Very fucking good. I’d let down my guard way too quickly. Who’d have thought that a tech billionaire could ever be charismatic?

“Well, I can get you away from all of it. Even Wilson and his madness,” he said, his tone seemingly flippant.

“Get me away?”

“Yup. A job at Stark Industries. I’m pivoting to consumer tech, and you’ve got a lot of expertise on what consumers want and what drives them. Being the biggest social media guy on the block has served you well.” Finally getting to the reason for the summoning, I see. I could now see the method behind the madness. The party, the music, the offer of alcohol, even the incessant chattering and jokes. He’d been trying to get me to like him. No, to want to work for him.

“The offer is truly an honor, Mr. Stark…”

“But you’ll have to refuse?” The man of Iron asked, cutting me off halfway, and I just nodded. He smiled, hiding a twinge of discomfort before downing another glass of whiskey. The office he’d led us to was roomy and already had multiple bottles prepped in a corner. After emptying his glass, it was to that mini-bar he went.

“I understand you. I really do. The temptation to build your own shit, to not have to answer to anyone must be huge. I can promise similar levels of autonomy in Stark Industries. Your own offices, your own department, your own people,” he rattled off while pouring himself another drink.

“But still under you, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony, please. Mr. Stark makes me feel old.”

“You are old,” I said, stressing the verb.

That one got a laugh from him. When Tony laughed, he laughed with his whole body, and something about it made me want to join him. The man dripped charisma from head to toe. He’d have had quite a time as a politician.

“I guess I am. But still.”

“Ok, Tony then. I love my freedom too much to give it up like this, and besides, I am building something already amazing. Giving up on Future Industries is just something I cannot do.”

“No matter the number I offer?” He asked, in a clearly last-ditch effort.

“We both know the numbers don’t matter.”

“Not to you, at least. Fifty million pounds is a hell of a trust fund.”

Of course, he knew about that. Was it a power play? Hinting that he knew about my true origins for some sort of advantage.

A/N: Have to head off for a bit, so here’s a snippet of what you can expect from the next chapter. If I’m able to do any more writing today, I’ll update this post, so stay attentive. Have a good one.