(Chapter 10)

When a cop arrested a friend and roommate who really deserved it and said, "Aren't you glad there are cops?" and internally all I could feel was, "You dumbass, you broke into my house to arrest my friend, it doesn't matter if you're right." It was a snowy day near Christmas in New York City when I first met Tony Stark, five months after I murdered one of his oldest friends. I still think I'd done him a favor, spared him having to do it himself or finding out independently. But it was awkward to be around Tony, who had every right to be thrice as angry with me as I was with that cop. We were both being prepped for a TV roundtable, alongside an executive from Roxxon and one from Gilbert Coal. "The Future of Energy," is what it was called.

"So, hotshot," Tony said, "Really impressive work you've done."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," I replied, feeling genuinely nervous. Not for the reason he probably thought, but still. I felt as if he would see through me and notice somehow that I'd killed OBadiah.

"I've looked at a couple of your panels, they're works of art. You really designed those without any kind of formal schooling?"

You know it's hard to talk to people when you've murdered their friends. "Yes sir," I said.

"You nervous? No need to be nervous, you look good. Pepper, doesn't he look good?"

"Tony," Pepper said with a huff as she looked up from a tablet she was using to make notes, "Yes, he looks good."

"See, Pepper thinks you look good. The cameras love you, you'll be fine."

"Done plenty of interviews," I said, a little defensively. Dang it, I did better with the Hydra agents. But this was different - Lying to Hydra felt fine, just being around Tony felt bad.

"I get it, it's intimidating being in my presence. I'm very intimidating," Tony said, slapping my shoulder. It took all my self-control not to cringe away. "But you'll be fine. I'm not here for you, I'm here for those guys," he forked a thumb over towards the fossil fuel executives we'd be sharing the roundtable with.

The problem was that I wasn't even here for those guys. I really was here for Tony, as far as it went. Tony was competition, the fossil fuel guys were relics on their way out and quite possibly financiers. If I wanted to make a good impression on Hydra, I needed to look like a team player. "Mr. Stark, this is a two man race," I said in a fit of honesty driven more by guilt than any sense of fair play.

Tony gave a little half laugh at that, leaning back in his chair. "You're right, of course. But you vs. me? Not high on my priority list these days. If you can get a few good licks in, I mean, good for you. I doubt it, but whatever. World's a better place either way, right Pepper?"

"Do at least try to give some thought for our stockholders," Pepper said from her chair. "Though, to my understanding, Mr. Trent is one. He bought in throughout our many, many downturns this year."

"Only a little," I demurred. Pepper snorted. 0.3% of Stark stocks was, objectively, a lot of money but it felt little in the context of Stark stockholders. Tony owned more than half and then a couple major holders held in the lower tens.

"See, I knew you were a fan," Tony said. I felt my face heat up, an emotional signal that thankfully wasn't transparent to Tony at all. "I was so cocky when I was your age. If I'd met my hero at one of these, I'd've told him I'd punch him out to prove how good I was. Modesty works for you, very appealing."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," I said.

"Call me Tony," he said, standing up. "How do I look?"

"Good," I said. He did.

"Good who?" he asked, leaning forward and cupping his ear like he was listening very closely.

My additional social skills concealed the active internal war over the inappropriateness of referring to my victim's friend with his first name when I dutifully said, "Good, Tony."

"Let's go put these guys' businesses with the fossils they sell," Tony said, toying with his sleeves.

I felt pretty bad about the fact I was about to cut the legs out from under him, but I had warned him. The moderator waved us in one by one, saving Tony for last. I was second. It could've been worse. I shook hands with Roxxon's dark-haired, slick-looking executive and sat down next to him on the big glass crescent table, bright lights shining down on me.

I waved to the crowd and smiled broadly, greeted both Tony and Gilbert's rotund, graying representative with polite smiles and firm handshakes.

"Alright, welcome to the Future of Energy Round table," said the moderator, a pretty blonde in her mid-thirties, grinning into the screen. "In the past month, major announcements in power and energy have rocked the energy sector. Mr. Stark and Mr. Trent have both announced shockingly low and clean energy costs, from Arc Reactors and solar power respectively. Mr. Gilbert and Mr. Peters are here representing the coal industry and oil and gas industries respectively. Let's get straight to it, Mr. Gilbert, does coal still have a future?"

Absolutely not is the real answer. Coal was dirty, its extraction process was dangerous, its workers were expensive. It had no base-load advantage over Tony or natural gas, it was more expensive by a lot, it had already gone into natural decline by 2018 even with GOP squawking about saving it.

"Well, first of all, let me begin by saying I'd like to see Mr. Stark's Arc Reactor vaporware actually work before I decided to throw in my towel." Okay Gilbert. Just ignore my already extant solar panels. "Coal's been powering this country for a hundred years and these young puppies think they're gonna kill it in a weekend with their pretty faces. Well, miners are a tough people. They're able to make sacrifices. They always have." Yeah, but you're not a miner are you, Mr. Gilbert? You're the guy who sends them to choke on smoke. Second-generation coal money and you're old, too. You've never tightened your belt in your damn life.

"Thank you, Mr. Gilbert," the moderator said. "Let's turn to Mr. Stark, Mr. Gilbert is calling the arc reactor vaporware, how would you address that?"

"It's not true," Tony said with a shrug, "We have a large scale Arc Reactor that works, we have miniaturized ones that are also highly efficient. They've been displayed. You can see the repulsor system the table-sized one is still powering with routine maintenance. As long as palladium doesn't vanish from the face of the earth, we should be fine."

"Mr. Trent, do you have anything to say about Mr. Gilbert's statement that you are a 'young puppy' with a pretty face?"

"Right on both counts," I said with a grin, which got a polite laugh from Gilbert and the moderator. "Let me start off by saying how grateful I, and everyone at Trent Industries, am to all the coal miners who've put in all the work keeping the lights on here in America. We expect them to last a long time keeping us warm in the winter," We absolutely did not expect this. There was absolutely no way for them to survive what Tony and I were doing to them. "And we expect Mr. Stark's power source to underperform his projections. Tony's not known for his modesty, after all. But if it doesn't, of course, we're very much ready to match his prices." Tony rolled his eyes at me, which I definitely deserved.

"Mr. Stark, any response?"

"Mr. Trent's one of our bigger investors, so he knows we're delivering. Frankly, I don't know why he's acting like this, he knows we're good."

"All the more reason," I said swiftly "for me to fudge the truth in your favor. I think the Arc Reactors are a big deal - I have a lot of faith in Tony's ingenuity and I've invested heavily in Stark Industries - But the sort of jump he's promising is going to come with complications. Hope for the best, but expect the worst isn't really Tony's M.O. My solar panels are a sure bet, oil, gas, and coal have proven themselves. Tony's arc reactors are a good bet, I could and did put money on it. That doesn't make them a sure thing." This was all bullshit, but I honestly didn't care. A few months of better stock results for Gilbert and Roxxon, a few months worse for Stark Industries, it made no difference.

"Alright, gentlemen, you've both had a say, let's both move on."

Tony leaned back in his chair and shook his head at me, but didn't say anything more.

"Mr. Peters," the moderator said, "You're here representing the oil and gas industry. Do you think this is the end for you?"

"I think Mr. Trent has raised some valid points," he said, gesturing gratefully to me. "Oil and gas have been working for America for a century. Mr. Stark's present rollout pace won't even replace modern energy demands by 2025 in the United States alone and it's a big world out there. Moreover, cars, planes, and eighteen wheelers are all still powered by gasoline. Not to mention petrochemical usages like plastics, which we expect to continue to grow and expand."

"Thank you Mr. Peters," the moderator said. "Now, for the next question, Mr. Stark, what do you say to those accusing you of destroying middle-class jobs in the middle of the recession?"

"You know," Tony said, fingering the table, "I think it's really impressive how things like this wind up getting phrased. Okay, it's not my job to protect jobs that poison the atmosphere and choke their workers to death with black lung. It wasn't my job to keep people at work building bombs earmarked for little children in Afghanistan, it's not my job to keep people at work murdering the planet. We're creating new jobs every day, we're offering Americans a discount on their energy costs in the midst of the biggest economic downturn in our history."

"Mr. Trent, people are saying the same things about you, what do you say to that?"

"Well, I think Tony is being very callous to workers who've given so much to our country. But he's right that it isn't our job, what we need is real leadership on industrial and energy policy. The White House needs to start displaying real leadership in this crisis. Get the stakeholders, energy, labor, industry, experts, municipalities, into a room, lock the door, and force us to stop squabbling and start working on an economy that works to keep America at the forefront of the energy sector."

----

The interview went on like that. I would talk about how great fossil fuels were, how they still had a future that they didn't really have, get little digs in on Tony, imply that I thought we just needed all the smart people to sit down and talk it out like there weren't fundamentally different, competing interests. None of this was true, but when I got the buzz on my phone with Drama's text

Great job! You really knocked it out of the park, : )

I grinned. It definitely felt good to get her approval on this one.

I headed into the coat room, where I saw Tony and almost spun around and walked out.

"No, no, come in." Tony said, his voice tinged with acid.

I obeyed, though, grabbing my coat and starting to pull it on.

"You know those losers aren't going anywhere," Tony said. "Why're you simpering for their approval like that? They got you in their pocket?"

"Tony," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Have you tried making friends? It might make this whole process a little easier."

"I get it, you want to hang out with the cool kids. Not who I would've picked for cool kids, but..." he said, yanking on his coat and patting me on the shoulder, "Don't give up. Maybe they'll invite you to their clubhouse."

I felt bad. I'd hurt Tony for his own good and now I'd hurt Tony for my own benefit. I wanted to apologize and explain, to say I was sorry. But the thing about apologies is that it's not enough to feel bad. You have to actually be sorry for what you did, to wish that you could change it.

I didn't say anything as Tony walked out.