webnovel

I am Ironman

Tony Stark. Iron Man. Father. Son. Hero. However, before a certain life changing event, he was a playboy and narcissist. But what if he was killed in the ambush. What if whatever power that brought him back somehow let him gain the memories of a random person from a universe where he was simply a work of fiction. A world where a man named Andrew Gardener, died in his sleep, and now found himself in another world, one that hadn’t been half destroyed like his own. How far would you go if it meant saving billions. Cover - MilwaukeeMac This Story is on ScribbleHub, WebNovel, Fanfiction.Net, RoyalRoad and WattPad All rights are Reserved for their respective owners.

AvonAce · Anime & Comics
Not enough ratings
18 Chs

A Toast to the Future

Deep underneath the ice sheets of the arctic ocean, eight Vanguard drones all approach the rusted wreck of a Soviet November-class submarine. The Russian Navy had tried to move K159 to a drydock about a year earlier, but it sank on the way there, and the Kremlin decided it was better to just leave it. The eight drones entered the ship and began cutting various non-structural panels away and using their muon beams as makeshift welders.

Preferably, this job should have been done by Tony's new worker drones, but they were still months away from being mess-producing, primarily because Tony had faced hiccups in the construction of the carbon nanotube factory after the Texas state governor brought up safety concerns over the untested technology.

Until then, the twenty or so vanguard drones were the only assets Tony had, and he preferred to deal with the sub as soon as possible since it was leaking vast amounts of radiation from its reactor. 

After jury rigging a patch to the reactor, all eight drones took up positions under the hull, and with all sixteen thrusters on full, the rusted wreck began to be lifted from the seabed. The submarine then began its week-long journey to a Russian dockyard that Ironman had told the Russian Defence Ministry he would drop it off at.

At the same time, five oil tankers had arrived from Panama at dockyards in Dalian, China. Tony didn't want to use Chinese dockyards, but none of the ones capable in the US were available for the foreseeable future. 

Over the next few months, they were gutted, reinforced, and stripped of their engines. 

Once they basically became floating hulls, they were then towed back to the US by tugs. 

"T-Minus, 5 minutes to launch." came a voice over the screen as an enlarged image of the rocket in the distance was shown on the screen. I took a sip of the cocktail I had been given and had a pensive look on my face as I looked out at the desert before me. 

This was the first test of the reusable rocket booster we had built in conjunction with Nasa. In the future, I wanted to build spacecraft that used muon thrusters; for now, conventional rockets would have to do. This was simply going to be a launch where the first stage landed itself and the payload of one tonne reached orbit before burning up in the atmosphere. 

It would be years before we got permission for human missions, but I could soon start unmanned missions after only a few dozen tests.

It had been almost a year since Afghanistan, and it still felt unreal. For both parts of me, whether Andrew or Tony, I had to constantly remind myself of why I was doing all of this. 

I was broken from my philosophical thoughts by a voice I long recognised: "I have to give you my thanks for inviting me, Mr. Stark," said Elon Musk as he took a sip of his whisky. 

"I know what SpaceX's goals are. I thought you might be interested, that's all." I responded.

He raised an eyebrow and responded, "You don't sound like you agree with my goals?"

"It's not that I don't agree; in fact, I'm willing to help. I just think you are taking it too fast." I said, chuckling slightly.

He looked back out to the rocket in the distance as the speaker said, "T-minus one minute to launch," before he said, "How so?" in a voice that showed genuine curiosity.

"Well, I know you want to establish a colony on Mars in the next fifteen years." I said it nonchalantly.

He nodded and said, "Yes, it is imperative for the survival of the human race."

"I agree. But in order to do so, you would need a large amount of infrastructure, both on earth and in space, which simply doesn't exist yet. So I propose a deal." I said.

He then responded, "What kind of deal?"

"Establishing a colony on Mars will be a money sink, which will most likely bankrupt you. So, I propose the following: I will build up the infrastructure necessary over the next ten years, such as a lunar outpost, fuel refineries, and orbital manufacturing—all things that will require large capital to build but things I can use. That way, I can contribute towards your noble goal without risking a bad investment." I said. 

He nodded and said, "If you really can do those things, then I look forward to the near future."

"T-Minus 10, 9, 8, 7, 6..."

"Primary boost ignition." A sudden orange glow can now be seen in the distance.

"4, 3, 2, 1. Liftoff." 

"To the future," said Musk, and I responded the same as we clink our glasses together. He then said, "I was wondering whether I could purchase the right to use your carbon batteries for Tesla."

"Oh, of course. Though the method of mass production of carbon nanotubes will remain my secret." I responded.

He nodded with a conflicted expression on his face. He was the type of businessman who preferred having oversight over all the resources he needed for his products, but the carbon batteries were simply too far ahead compared to other alternatives.

"How is the factory in Houston coming along?" he asked. It had been in the news since the Texas government was concerned over the huge power requirements necessary for the manufacturing process. 

I harrumphed and said, "Construction has finally started, though it'll take about another year before we even start production, let alone begin trying to increase the efficiency."

"How'd you get old Perry to agree?" he asked, with a tone that showed his curiosity, since he had been having the same issues trying to get permission in the state.

I smiled and said, "Lobbying. And I basically said I'd overhaul the entire Texas energy grid for next to nothing."

We stood in silence for twenty minutes as we watched the first stage land safely over the feed on a landing pad in the Pacific Ocean.

"Well, I thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Stark. I'll see you some other time," he said before turning to leave. 

As the payload, which was meant to burn up in the atmosphere, orbited the earth hundreds of miles up, a small satellite no more than a metre across separated from the payload. As the rest of the orbiter started to enter the atmosphere, the satellite used a muon thruster to begin moving to a higher orbit. 

It was rather easy to spot a satellite, hence the moniker that there is no stealth in space; however, there was one way to keep a satellite off the radar. Since the specific impulse of Muno engines was essentially infinite, it meant I could just keep the satellite forever changing its orbit, so that if it was spotted, whenever someone went to check where it had been, it would be on a completely different orbit.

The satellite was rather rudimentary in design; it had several thrusters, an arc reactor, a transmitter-receiver array, and finally, a larger tachyon emitter. I knew it was a shot in the dark, but if I could get my hands on the remains of Marvel's research ship, it would leapfrog my technological limits forward by centuries. Though my hopes were low, The goal of the satellite was to slowly cover orbits with tachyons, and if receivers on the ground picked up tachyon emission from something reflecting it back, then I could start to pinpoint its orbit. This process would likely take years to complete.

After several weeks of travel, the five tankers arrived off the Gulf Coast and were one by one loaded into a drydock that was finally free to use. The propellers and rudder were removed, and a large new Mk.XI Arc reactor was installed alongside two hydrojet propulsion systems. 

Each was on a gimbal that allowed them to turn on a linear plane at 360 degrees. Stark Industries had originally designed the system for the US Navy tender fleet in the 1980s, but the system was rejected due to the high power requirements. They were, however, more efficient than propellers and were better for the environment since they produced no cavitation, hence less noise to mess with marine mammal echolocation. And due to the ship not having propellers, the risk of whales being injured by the ship was also negligible.

After that, decks were put in place, along with power lines, piping, and cables. Radar and communication equipment were mounted above the bridge, as well as reinforcing and armour. Each deck was designed to be modular; one moment a ship could be for cargo, the next a hospital. 

One of the ships was designated as a specialist ship, had a desalination plant, would later take protein synthesisers once they were ready, and would be able to make enough food and water for over two million people. 

A nondescript factory on the outskirts of Houston, Texas, with the logo Stark Industries and Manufacturing sat silently as the final safety inspection was done by the government. Immediately after, the two dozen workers at the factory started to activate the series of conveyor belts, pressure chambers, and centrifuges that made up the several production lines for varying types of carbon nanotubes. 

Now that Tony had access to large quantities of this wonder material, he could begin the process of experimenting with the creation of microchips. Using high-purity carbon nanotubes, he could replace the silicon wafers, which have been the mainstay of the chip industry, and alongside several other improvements like Goldene and using light to transmit information between logic gates, he was confident that he could make chips tenfold better than anything else available for the next decade. The only problem was, again, mass production; for now, he would have to be stuck with foreign imports from Taiwan.

At least he could begin mass production of stark worker drones.

"Fucking finally!" yelled a young man as several other scientists in the room next door to him said the hologram they made of an apple was perfectly opaque, looked three-dimensional from all angles, and lacked the flicker that had given it away. 

Quentin Beck heard a loud pop as the champagne was popped, and the entire team began to celebrate. Then one of them yelled out, "Hey, someone let Mr.Stark know. We couldn't have done it without him." 

However, Quentin couldn't help but stare at the apple as he passed his hand through it effortlessly. Until now, this had been his dream—to create holograms from the stories he had read as a child—but now that he was here, he felt empty. Sure, he was overjoyed with the fact that he had created a technology that would seem like actual magic to some, but he was hung up on something Tony had said months before when they were stuck on a problem and asked for his help.

"You know, if you guys nail this, you'd be able to manipulate photons directly. Once you do, I'd love to try creating solid photonic matter."

Quentin Beck almost worshipped the man; sure, he was a visionary with the ability to bring his vision to life; he, like most, had seen the worker drones that he was now marketing as workers for dangerous jobs; that almost seemed to be pulled out of a movie, but Quentin couldn't figure out why he would do such things. It was then that he vowed to do his best to make the world a better place, just like his idol, Mr.Stark.

(Read A few Chapters Ahead on My Patreon: patreon.com/AvonAce)