Irony Is Nothing If Not Man

by Rob Morris

PYM INDUSTRIES, LATE 2016

Henry Pym tackled the issue of the intruder in his office, and was somewhat prepared to tackle the intruder himself. He settled for a verbal match-up.

"Stark, get out of my office."

Tony Stark, deciding to focus on what he saw as the weakest link on Steve Rogers' group of renegades, only vacated Pym's chair.

"Hank, I'll get straight to the point. Give me your boy."

Hank took the opening with great relish.

"I don't have a boy, Tony. My wife had a girl."

Stark was adamant.

"A lovely girl-one who sometimes takes another lovely girl, Cassandra Lang, for extended shopping trips-that kind of take them off the radar for a few hours."

Hank was on a roll, and he wasn't a man who got this sort of luck, so he ran with it.

"C'mon, Tony! You honestly expect me to pry the secret shopping places out of two young women? My old suit was red, not red and blue."

Stark felt he had the high ground, so kept on.

"Ms. Lang isn't hitting boutiques or quonset huts with your daughter. She's talking to her Dad."

Hank looked directly into Stark's face.

"Say Hi for me, when she does. He's a nice guy."

Tony pulled back.

"He's a fugitive, and you all are aiding and abetting him."

Hank nodded.

"Translation. You can't find him, you sure as hell can't find Steve Rogers, the Bartons-lovely folks-won't talk, so you somehow think I'll knuckle under. Tony, I sort of admired your dad once, almost liked him, you not so much either."

Stark felt the need to lean in a bit, and saw the opening.

"What happened to my Dad and Mom was a tragedy. Kind of like what happened to Janet."

Hank gave him a sharp glare, but only three words on his hot-button subject.

"Work In Progress."

Since Stark had no idea what that meant, he pressed on a different front.

"Before the break-out, we had a chance to go over Lang's suit. Analyze what makes it tick."

Hank again looked unimpressed.

"Which gained you nothing, or I'd have already heard all about Stark Particles or somesuch. Still can't prevent the side effects?"

Tony shook with fury.

"You want me to call for the briefcase?"

Hank for once in his life had a near-perfect calm.

"You want me to go all Leipzig Airport on you?"

The recall of said image actually notching things down for Tony, he nodded.

"Well, you are the discoverer of Pym Particles. The inventor of the processes that actually make them usable. Two things you've done that I haven't, Hank. Want me to name just one of the things I've done that you couldn't or wouldn't?"

Hank shook his head, and with some following words, ended the conversation for several months, at least.

"No, Tony-I'll name one of those things, a project of huge ambition and explosive growth, I plainly did not invent that you did, for you."

Stark smiled, thinking he had his foot in the door. It would be a hard slam.

"So name it."

Hank gave his one-word shutdown.

"Ultron."