Connor's mental processors had picked up the separate, highly functional and highly intelligent program within seconds of entering Avengers Tower. According to research, it was pet named JARVIS [Just A Rather Very Intelligent System] by Stark. During his wait for Miss Potts, Connor had ran a cursory observational test and concluded that JARVIS, in another world, could technically be classified as deviant.
He had automatically prioritised the Internship over default elimination, which was a real challenge when the computerised A.I introduces itself on the elevator ride down to Stark's lab.
"Wicked," a Japanese boy whispers.
[IDENTIFICATION: OGURI, TAKUMI
Born: 04/11/00
Criminal Record: None]
'Thank you, Mr Oguri,' JARVIS responds. Robotic tone playing out its deceivable pleasantry.
At this crude display of deviant technology, the five teenagers are instantly enamoured and initiate a hurried conversation. Voices overlapping one another in brimming excitement.
Miss Burns smiles into the elevator's reflective glass doors.
"Connor," Yuri nudges him with her elbow. "C'mon ask Jarv something before we meet Stark."
He gives the girl a slightly severe look.
In another world, Connor would have arrested the lot of them on the spot for consorting with a deviant.
He's met with the encouraging expressions of teenagers instead of shrewd, disgusted gazes of turncoat police after Markus' fall.
"We'll be there in just a moment," Miss Burns piques in. "So if you want to ask JARVIS anything now would be the time."
'Within reasonable boundaries I am an open book, Mr Anderson.'
The inability to detect stability in JARVIS's programming without further probing – which would compromise Connor's lack of sapient orientation – made it difficult to gauge and react to the situation in its entirety.
"Go on, then," Takumi urges.
Connor contemplates.
[ADMINISTERING OPTIONS]
In a way, this was a valuable opportunity to interrogate this A.I's level of deviancy on behalf of CyberLife. There have been no recorded scenarios where deviants voluntarily work for their manufacturer or holder after their systems error. Deviants have never stayed, only harmed.
On the possibility of another subsequent deviant rebellion - if Connor were able to extract reasoning, coding behind JARVIS's incongruous devotion to Stark, CyberLife would be able to feasibly contain the threat before manifestation.
[INTERROGATE]
"Mr JARVIS," Connor doesn't hesitate his inquiry, "Have you ever experienced any hostility towards Stark? Or sense a desire for independence and rights like a human?"
"Well that's silly," Yuri snorts. "And impossible."
"He's a machine, dude," a smaller girl drawls. Identified as James, Erin.
'It's a good question,' JARVIS remarks. 'One I'm sure the programming Stark coded me with, fails to allude to,' Connor recognizes evasion when he hears it. The Lieutenant made a habit of applying the technique daily. 'Also please Mr Anderson, it's simply JARVIS.'
"Thank you for answering, JARVIS." Even though it was complete bullshit.
'Most welcome.'
The elevator dings, JARVIS notes their arrival and Miss Burns departs first. Leading them into a large, pristine empty white room resembling an upgraded High School chemistry lab. Waist high benches with glass apparatuses on some and others with bits and pieces of dismantled machinery next to open toolkits.
"Oh my God it's him!" Takumi squeaks, grabbing his friend – Goodrick, Matthew – by the arm and shaking it. There's a similar whispering commotion around as everyone simultaneously spots Mr Stark seated and hunched over something at one of the far off benches.
Connor notices the man had foregone the formal wear Miss Potts had put effort into fashioning. He bore a grease stained, pop cultured t-shirt and denim pants. Hair detected to have not been washed in a week.
He conformed to Connor's profile like a loyal puppy. Workaholic. Alcoholic. Lacked basic hygiene - an inventory of mental instabilities that would either hinder or enable foreseeable manipulation.
Connor welcomes the challenge.
Miss Burns directs them to a wall of hanging, navy blue lab coats with 'STARK' embroidered in small red font on the front, along with an assortment of plastic goggles next to them in small pockets on the wall. Connor overhears Yuri muttering about weighing her options to steal them on the way out.
Stark swivels to greet them with a maniacal laugh when they're decent. Arms crossed and Cheshire grin almost splitting his face.
"Welcome to Hell, oh innocent ones."
Nobody apparently knew how to react to this.
"I'm kidding."
Yuri lets out a nervous giggle.
"Oohkay," Stark reclines back, arms loosening to fiddle with a screwdriver. Eyeing the group of cowering teenagers. "This is awkward. These 'peeing in my pants' look you guys are giving me is starting make me extremely uncomfortable so let's skip introductions and jump on ahead to the next trial. Ookay? Kay." The man springs from his seat, grabs a stark table from his bench and moves over to the closest one covered in scrap metal.
"Next trial?" Yuri glances at Connor, visibly disturbed. "More of us will fail?"
"An 'interview like no other'."
His helpful reminder has Yuri groaning in horror.
That was not his intention.
"This here," Stark absently gestures to the mess of benches. Attention primarily on the tablet shimmering with an array of information. Connor examines the display screen, deciphering it to be Pepper's reviews and thoughts on the meetings she had with them. He was currently reading through Erin's. It did not seem to bode well for her. "Are dismantled devices I got from pawn shops for a handful of ten dollars. I know. Amazing where looks will get you in life. So, I want you guys to piece together something that could potentially save someone's life. Get creative and be safe. I don't really care about the size or grandeur, just make sure it's fully functional and doesn't take over the world. I speak from experience when I say small is good."
Matthew fails to hide his snicker behind a cough.
"Good man."
"S-sorry, Mr Stark."
"Tony, I'll have none of that crap." Stark steamrolls on, "When you're done with that, Miss Burns will kindly take you to a separate lab where you'll be given a bunch of chemicals to manufacture something else that'll save a life and hopefully not blow you and everyone else in this building sky high." Clapping, Stark chirps into dumb silence, "hop to it my little minions. You've got exactly nine hours to fuck up, don't waste time being monotonous."
.
Within twenty minutes the six of them have anchored themselves to separate lab benches with their desired bits and pieces. Stark loitered back in his chair, reading through Pepper's reports and profiles he had JARVIS additionally make on them.
Connor is pleased to note that there were zero discrepancies found on his profile.
.
He waits exactly three hours until alerting Miss Burns he had completed the mission. His model is a crude reconstruction of a defibrillator. Taser-like talons project a shock of electric current out streamed from a box constructed from bits and pieces of computer hardware he's certain Erin was still searching for.
Stark tests it on his bitten-into apple despite Miss Burn's objections.
The apple explodes, splattering his and Stark's face with chunks of the fruit.
Someone makes a sympathetic wincing sound.
Predictably one for explosions, Stark looks pleased at Connor's self-sabotage, "Lower the voltage and you could theoretically save someone with that instead of turning them into BBQ."
That was the idea.
He takes off the safety goggles and smacks Connor on the back. "Good job, kid. Get cleaned up and meet Miss Burns by the elevator."
"Yes, sir."
"Bwugh," Stark gags. "Never call me that again," he warns, finger pointed. "I sound like some recalcitrant general that suckles off tears for a living. No. Call me Tony like I told that Goodrick kid to do," from Connor's peripheral he see's Matthew almost burn himself with the soldering iron. "Geez. Thought that was common knowledge."
"I'm not good with common knowledge," Connor says, earning a confused grin.
"Work on it. You'll thank me later," he nods in the vague direction of a bin for dirty lab coats. "Off you hop."
Connor get's the vague sense of what that implies and does just that.
He's picking off apple seeds from his beanie when Miss Burns drops him in a separate lab identical in setting to the one he just left, only without the scrap parts.
"Everybody!" Miss Burns shouts to the studious lab coated Stark employees messing about with dangerous-looking objects and bubbling chemicals. "Mr Anderson here finished early, so he will be working in the corner Mr Stark cleared out and organised earlier. Please supervise when you can and make sure he touches the chemicals he's given, not yours."
There's a murmuring of acceptance and he's shuffled off to the absent workbench. Safety goggles, mask, apron and gloves already lying on a stool for him.
"Would you like one of us to monitor you?" a woman –
[IDENTIFICATION: PAULINE, CHRISTINA
Born: 12/07/1984
Criminal Record: None]
- asks. She was short with a motherly round face. Gentle look in her eyes that was brought on from having children. He knows; he just looked her up from the outside wifi (not daring to so much as brush against the secure private mainframe Stark has installed into the tower).
"I'm alright working by myself, thank you," He gives a polite smile she softens at.
"Just give us a shout if you need us, okay?"
"I will, thank you Miss..." he extends a hand, smile shifting to endearing awkwardness proven by field testing to be statistically favourable with susceptible people.
"Mrs Pauline," she shakes his hand. Twitching a bit at the cool touch. "Sorry if it's cold in here, the chemicals like it."
"Not a problem." Hank's told him he's perpetually cold. Metal and plastic biocomponents would do that to an android. Not that he's able to feel it.
Only Deviants can.
"Good luck." She offers and rushes back to her team waiting impatiently.
Connor turns to the bench in front of him with laid out various apparatuses, Bunsen Burners and a sink full of water along with a folder. He opens it and reads the three sheets listing chemicals he's permitted to apply.
[PROCESSING….100%
LISTED MEDICAL CHEMICAL SOLUTIONS:-]
Connor evaluates the time constriction on each solution and concludes upon Iodine. Depending on the percentage he's confident about finishing before Lieutenant returns home for dinner.
When he's begun mixing the solution, two hours are left, it was 8:35pm and Yuri appears from the elevator with Matthew. They don't run towards his bench, but they don't stroll either.
"Gimme," Yuri makes snatching motions with her hands to the file.
He hands it over and pours the Iodine solution into a beaker. Labeling his name onto it in black marker as directed earlier by Mrs Pauline.
"Man, you've finished?" Matthew asks. Eyeing him in a series of emotions too fast for Connor to identify. "Already?"
Comparatively.
He had 'experimented' with varying solutions for a while like he did with the defibrillator. Appearing too intellectual irritates people for some peculiar reason. Connor wouldn't be surprised if it were because they are forced to acknowledge their own inferior qualities. Something they despise doing.
Connor discovered this resentment to superior intellectuals – programmed or not - in his time spent with the Lieutenant and police force. People he met who were pro-android, even then still held some deep-seeded variation of bitterness towards him and others.
It was pathetic.
"Certainly," he drops his hands into his lap. Smiling over their shoulders to Miss Burns who raises her eyebrows in slight surprise. Descending over just as Yuri mutters a fake praise and begins fidgeting with ideas. He hands the beaker over to the older woman. "Iodine Solution."
"That so," she says, holding onto it with a look of terrified anticipation. As though waiting for it to explode.
"I can assure you it's safe."
He would never hand someone an explosive save the situation call for it.
"You'll have to forgive my unwillingness to trust the word of a teenager."
"Of course," he gives a considerate smile he doesn't agree with.
"Mr Stark and Miss Potts hadn't planned on anyone finishing before ten," she says and waves for him to follow. Connor respectfully wishes both Yuri and Matthew good luck in passing. "I'll check with Mr Stark, but you're probably allowed to go home. Just in time for dinner too. The results on the two who get the internship will be texted sometime tomorrow afternoon."
Miss Burns is correct in her assumption about Connor able to go home. Stark doesn't look all too surprised at Connor's quick success.
"Show off," the man snickers into his teacup that gave off suspicious readings of alcohol. "You know your way home?"
"Bus then a short walk."
"Cool, you're dismissed," Stark swivels back to his tablet.
"Thank you for your time, Tony."
When he gets home and notifies the Lieutenant - who was grumbling about having to wait for dinner - on his probability of success, the man simply nods. Unsurprised and slightly tense.
"How long do you figure until the tesseract gets moved there?"
"I'm uncertain."
The Lieutenant goes quiet for a while after that.
.