Maybe it was surprising that Tony was able to sleep that morning. After all, there was still some possibility, even if it were a relatively slim one, that things could go wrong. Under normal circumstances Tony would have trusted Jarvis' calculations without even giving it a first thought, never mind a second – but they'd all had a stressful day followed by too little sleep and too much caffeine, and Jarvis was now as human as the rest of them, in a physical sense if nothing else. They'd done very little double-checking, because there simply hadn't been time. All it would take was one misplaced decimal point, one wrong keystroke by a man who was hardly an expert typist…
... but in spite of all that, Tony must have slept like the dead. The next thing he knew, Pepper was gently shaking him awake. Sunlight was pouring in the window, the other bed was empty, and he could hear somebody in the shower, though it was hard to tell whether that was in their room or the one next door. He looked up at Pepper.
"Morning," he said. Where the sunlight fell on her, her red hair lit up with gold.
"It's afternoon," she replied.
Tony glanced at the bedside clock – 2:35. "So it is," he said.
"Agent Wheeler called," Pepper said. She must have been up for a while already, because she'd showered and dressed. Her hair was still damp. "There've been some flooded basements in beachfront communities, but nothing that qualifies as a tidal wave."
Tony shut his eyes, relieved. "If Jarvis drew a salary, I'd give him a raise."
"You'll have to upgrade his RAM or something," said Pepper lightly.
This was meant as a joke, but it still made Tony a little uncomfortable. Among other things, he wasn't sure how one went about being the caretaker for a truly sentient machine. What kind of responsibilities would that entail? What were the rights of a self-aware computer? At least when it came to looking after human beings, there were rules involved. Tony decided to change the subject. "Two thirty, huh? I'll bet we can still be in Lake Louise in time for dinner. You call the plane, I'll get everybody together. We won't even bother to pack." He smiled hopefully.
But Pepper shook her head. "Agent Wheeler wants us to stay in the city for a few days at least. She said the FBI might have more questions for you, and I imagine SHIELD will have a few, as well."
"Just how I wanted to spend my day," Tony grumbled, disappointed. "Okay, Plan B: you tell her I'm still traumatized from being kidnapped, and you and I just stay in bed all day."
Pepper, as usual, was all practicality. "This motel doesn't have room service."
"Oh, fine, I'll get up." Tony sighed as he sat up, and ran a hand through his hair. Getting messy, he noted – probably time for a trim. Jarvis would need one, too, if he were going to be sticking around. "Where's everybody else?" he asked.
"Steve, Clint, and Natasha were still in their room last time I checked," said Pepper, "but they're all up. They were watching Spongebob when Agent Wheeler called. Steve was trying very hard to look like he wasn't enjoying it." She ran her fingers gently around the edge of the arc reactor. "Dido went for a jog, and Jarvis is feeding birds."
Tony's first reaction was that this had to be a euphemism for something, but he couldn't figure out what. "Jarvis is... sorry?" he asked.
"Come and see," said Pepper, smiling.
Tony threw a shirt on and looked out the motel room window. Jarvis was sitting on a bench at the edge of the parking lot, next to an elderly woman who had apparently taken charge of teaching him how to feed the small crowd of chickadees and titmice that had gathered at their feet. The birds were clearly used to getting handouts – they were very tame and rather fat, and one of them actually hopped onto Jarvis' hand, hoping to get closer to the food. He twitched in surprise and the bird quickly flew away, but when he turned to the woman next to him the grin on his face was a mile wide.
Tony turned away from the window. "I don't know what I'm going to do with him," he admitted to Pepper.
"I suppose it depends on how long he's here for," she said. "You'll think of something."
Her confidence should have helped, but it didn't. This had become a people problem. Tidal waves had now joined the list of things Tony Stark knew how to deal with. People were still somewhere in limbo.
"Here comes Dido," Pepper observed, looking out the window again.
Tony stood up straight. One thing he was sure of: he was not leaving Jarvis alone with Dido Windham again. "I'm hungry," he said. "I think we should all go get something to eat, don't you?"
There was an IHOP about a block away that was advertising a brunch special, so Tony rounded everybody up and treated them. They pushed two tables together and ordered some of everything, so everyone could pick and choose what they wanted. Jarvis looked decidedly nervous as plates of waffles and sausages were set out in front of them, and Tony wondered why. Then he saw Jarvis carefully unroll the paper napkin from around his knife and form, and remembered that he'd only once before tried to use cutlery. That had been at breakfast on Tuesday – he'd been clumsy with the utensils and quickly gave them up. Since then he'd avoided foods he couldn't eat with his hands.
Now almost everything in front of them was either sticky or greasy, and he had no choice. Tony realized that this was another opportunity to be helpful instead of being a jerk, and seized it.
"Here," he said, unwrapping his own utensils. "Jarvis. I'll show you."
He demonstrated how to arrange his fingers, and showed Jarvis how to use his knife to push things onto the tines of the fork. As accomplishments went, it certainly wasn't on the scale of stopping a tidal wave, or even of fixing the company server, but Tony felt a little proud all the same as Jarvis began to get the hang of it.
"See?" he said. "Nothing to it."
Jarvis nodded, carefully spearing half a strawberry on his fork. "I've watched you do this so many times," he mused. "I wouldn't have expected to find it so challenging." He put the fruit in his mouth and chewed slowly and carefully, then looked surprised a moment before shutting his eyes and making a small 'mmm' noise.
Tony supposed there probably wasn't much difference between theory and practice to a mind in a computer. "Tonight we'll go out for Chinese," he promised, "and try you on chopsticks!"
Rather belatedly, Tony remembered that Dido was still with them, and wondered what she'd thought of the lesson. She'd already gotten the idea that Jarvis was a little weird – enough so that something she'd told her father had apparently convinced him that 'Dr. Jarvis' was a robot – and seeing that he didn't know how to use a knife and fork wouldn't have helped. But when Tony looked at her, he was relieved to find that Clint and Natasha had distracted her by telling some kind of story that involved thirty million Euro, a donkey, a prison break, and an Armenian cult that was searching for the remains of Noah's ark.
Above the tables, TV sets were tuned to a news channel, and not unexpectedly, the day's top story was about the overnight evacuation attempt. "The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration issued a tsunami warning for the California coast just after four this morning," the anchorman announced, "but Los Angelinos were able to breathe a sigh of relief when it was rescinded shortly before one PM. Families evacuated from costal neighbourhoods are being allowed to return to their homes, many of them with children still thrilled from having had the opportunity to meet a superhero." The program showed footage of Steve signing autographs for two little boys and their sister – all three children were dressed in red, white, and blue 'Captain America' pajamas.
Clint pointed at the screen with his fork. "One of those cops gave Steve his phone number."
"I told him I wasn't interested," said Steve.
"Was he at least cute?" Tony teased.
Steve took another bite of sausage and didn't answer.
The news switched to another story: a reporter standing on a dock in San Francisco began talking about a missing ship. Tony didn't pay very much attention until he heard its name: "the Air Force has confirmed," the woman said, "that it lost touch with the USS Van Buren at approximately ten thirty AM this morning. No official statement has been made about the condition or location of the carrier or her crew, and rumours are flying about everything from a terrorist attack to a UFO abduction."
"I wonder what that's all about," said Pepper.
"Probably just part of the whole secrecy thing," said Tony dismissively. It did make him a little sore to know that he and Jarvis were unlikely to ever get public credit for averting the catastrophe. He could understand the secrecy – the idea that somebody could use the ocean itself as a weapon of terror was the sort of thing that tended to make people nervous – but he was also a pretty firm believer in the idea of credit where credit was due, which wasn't a bad excuse for the part of him that liked to be in the limelight. The part that did stupid things like stand up at a press conference and tell the world, I am Iron Man.
The juxtaposition of those thoughts made Tony think of something else: "oh, hey," he said. "Dido? Whose idea was it for you to meet Huang in California? Yours or his?"
"I don't know," she replied. "I'd have to ask Dad. He set it up. Why?"
Tony chewed thoughtfully on a mouthful of ham and cheese omelet. "Because if Huang was already pissed at me for destroying his weapons and equipment in Taiwan, he might've picked this area because my home and company are here..." The tsunami, if not neutralized, would certainly have taken out the Malibu house and done a lot of damage to the manufacturing districts, where Stark Industries and its factories were located. It made sense as a target for somebody with reasons to hate Iron Man. Kidnapping Tony and Jarvis to ensure their deaths by drowning had probably been a crime of opportunity, but it no longer looked like Balthazar Windham had been the only target.
A moment later, Tony's thoughts screeched to a halt as he realized that if the wave had destroyed the Malibu house, it would also have been the end of JARVIS. Was that what Dr. Strange had hoped to accomplish – saving the life of what he'd realized was a sentient being? Damn, this whole thing was complicated.
"Tony?" asked Pepper.
"Huh?" He blinked, and realized he'd let himself trail off in mid-sentence and gotten lost in thought. "Sorry, I zoned out for a minute there." He speared another piece of omelet. "Pepper, when you talked to Wheeler, did she give you any idea how they were doing interrogating the bad guys?"
A few minutes later, Tony's phone rang. He fished it out and then groaned when he saw the call display: Wheeler, P. Did all annoying secret agents have names that started with P? It was tempting to just ignore it and hope she would think he was still in bed, but she might well have news about whether or not Huang had started talking. Not to mention Pepper would be mad at him if he upset the FBI again. He pressed 'connect'.
"Stark," he said, because people who threatened to arrest him did not deserve 'hello'.
Apparently Wheeler didn't extend that courtesy to him, either. "Are you guys still all together?" she asked.
"We're having breakfast," said Tony, tacitly daring her to point out that it was three in the afternoon.
She didn't take the bait. "We've got a problem."
"What kind of a problem and why does it involve me?" asked Tony.
"We're not sure," Wheeler replied, "but it's coming our way, and it's big. Pack up your breakfast and meet me outside."
"What if I don't want to?" asked Tony.
"Too late," said Wheeler. A horn beeped in the parking lot, and Tony looked out the window to see Wheeler herself standing next to a blue FBI van.
They asked the waitress for doggy bags and went outside to meet Wheeler. Rhodey was with her.
"Just can't leave me alone, can you?" Tony asked them.
As on the phone, Wheeler didn't bother with a greeting. "I do have some good news," she said, as they approached. "One of Huang's goons is talking. The test was, indeed, sponsored by the Tian Ming. The tsunami was intended as a threat to the Chinese government and its supporters, to show them what the group was capable of and to demonstrate that the West won't be able to help them. So that's not exactly wonderful, but it could have been much worse. At least we're not going to war."
"What's the bad news?" asked Steve.
"We don't even know," sighed Wheeler. "Colonel Rhodes can tell you about it."
Tony noted to himself that he was seriously disappointed in real-life FBI vehicles. In movies, FBI agents always cruised in black vintage vehicles with leather interiors – bumping around in a navy blue van that might've belonged to a Connecticut soccer mom was a completely different experience and made him want to give the Bureau some kind of donation so they could buy new cars. Working for the FBI should at least get people a cool car.
"The first sign of trouble came shortly after you guys left downtown," Rhodey explained. "The US Geological Survey detected a series of unusual tremors not far from your second blast site. They assumed it was just subsistence or aftershocks, but they sent a boat out to take a closer look, just in case there were a gas pocket or magma chamber down there."
"What did they find?" asked Tony.
"We don't know. They lost touch with the vessel before it arrived," said Rhodey. "The Coast Guard sent a plane to go look for them, but all the pilot found was a fuel slick and one empty life raft."
Steve leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. "So whatever happened, it happened fast."
"Then we lost contact with the Van Buren," Rhodey went on. "They found the stern capsized – the other half seems to have gone down. They're fishing the survivors out of the water right now, but so far most of them are in pretty bad shape and nobody's been able to tell us much. Meanwhile the USGS is still getting tremors and they're moving towards the coastline. It's not following a plate boundary or any real predictable path, so we don't know where it's going or when it'll get there, but so far on average it's moving towards the coast."
That wasn't nearly enough information for Tony to come to any conclusions. It could be anything from an underwater volcano to an alien invasion, although Tony really hoped he wouldn't have to go through two alien invasions in one lifetime. "And you have no idea what it is?"
"It could be a sea monster for all we know," said Wheeler.
"Are those under FBI jurisdiction?" Clint apparently couldn't resist.
"They're not under anybody's jurisdiction," Wheeler grunted, "although I'm sure the History Channel's already sent some guys. The Air Force and your friend Director Fury asked me to help because I was in town and according to them I already have a rapport with you guys."
"That's news to us, too," Tony told her. "Jarvis, we downloaded all those seafloor maps when we started our seismology project last year. What's in the area where the second blast happened?"
"I don't remember anything of note," said Jarvis, "but my memory isn't what it used to be. I did double-check the backup maps on the company server. If there were any known geological dangers there, I would have chosen a different site."
When they'd left the restaurant, Jarvis had brought a container of fruit salad with him and had been munching on it as they drove, picking out the strawberry halves to eat first. Now, however, the food seemed to have been forgotten, and Tony noticed that Jarvis' face had gone white under his sunburn. He felt a surge of sympathy: that was a horrible feeling, realizing that you'd broken one thing in the attempt to fix another.
"So you guys are the geniuses," Wheeler said, looking at Tony and Jarvis. "We need you to figure out what you pissed off and how we put it back to bed."
"You really think this is something alive?" asked Steve.
"We have no idea," Rhodey said. "Nobody's come up with a better theory yet."
The industrial districts were quiet for a Thursday afternoon, although not eerily so. The city had begun to recover from the aborted tsunami warning and was finding its groove again: traffic and tourists were out in the streets, but a substantial minority of businesses had chosen to remain closed just in case. Stark Industries was not one of those, and they arrived to find the complex bustling.
Tony had a sudden sinking feeling. "Pepper," he said, "we have to send all of these people home."
She nodded. "What should I tell them?" Wheeler and Rhodey had made it clear that for now the mysterious tremors, like the true story behind the tsunami scare, had to stay secret. Public panic would only make things much, much worse.
"Anything," said Tony. "Make something up. Tell them it's my birthday."
"They know it's not your birthday," Pepper reminded him, and she was right: Tony had made kind of an ass of himself last year, and the footage had hit YouTube within minutes of the party's breakup. Nobody was likely to forget the date for a while yet.
"Tell them it's my un-birthday," said Tony. "Tell them it's your birthday. Something. I don't care. Dido, help Pepper make sure everybody leaves. Pretend you work in accounting – they'll flee as soon as you enter the room. Superheroes, geniuses, and secret agents, you guys are with me." He shooed the party towards the elevator, then looked back at Pepper. "We could've been on our way to Lake Louise!" he said.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but waved goodbye with a fond smile.
Back in the office, Jarvis brought up his holographic map again and input the new seismic data, indicating the recent tremors as a cloud of yellow dots. Something inside him felt as if it were tying itself in knots. He kept thinking about all the maps he'd looked at, the data he'd analyzed, trying to figure out what he'd missed. In choosing the times and places for the three blast sequences, he'd tried to take into account both the geophysics and the ecology of the seafloor, doing the least damage to both. He couldn't think what he'd done wrong, and yet he had a horrible crawling feeling that he should have known. That anything bad which happened now was going to be his fault.
He could see the others frowning as they examined his map, and he knew why – he, too, was disappointed. He'd been hoping that placing the tremors in context would show some sort of pattern, but there was none besides the general westward trend Colonel Rhodes and Agent Wheeler were already aware of. Even that was only a trend. From the place where the Geological Survey ship was lost, the tremors moved in more or less a straight line to the wreck of the Van Buren, but after that, it wandered. It did not line up with landscape features of the sea bottom, or with the local fault lines.
"Maybe Huang had a backup plan?" Mr. Stark suggested. "I don't know what kind of backup plan could take out an aircraft carrier, but... are these man-made explosions?" he looked at Jarvis.
"No," Jarvis replied, rotating the display with strawberry-stained fingers – he didn't yet have much to compare them to, but he was fairly certain that strawberries were going to be among his favourite foods. After realizing that people had died because of his choice of a second blast site, however, even those had no longer looked appetizing. "Blast tremors are brief and localized. These are drawn out and dispersed, as if the epicentre moves over the course of each."
Colonel Rhodes agreed with him. "The USGS already looked into that. They don't think these are explosions, but they don't seem to be geological in origin, either. Believe me, if it were something that obvious, we'd have left you to your pancakes."
"Not man-made and not geological," said Mr. Stark. "What's that leave, then?"
"It's got to be something big moving around down there," said Captain Rogers. "Some animal."
Jarvis sort of hoped he was right – somehow, that would make this new situation seem less like his fault. Things had just started to seem like they were going to be all right after all. Jarvis had useful things he could do again, Mr. Stark was no longer angry at him or ignoring him, and everything would be fine when Dr. Strange returned. But now... for the first time in many months, Mr. Stark had given Jarvis a task, and Jarvis had failed. The result might well be a worse problem than the one they'd just solved. That wasn't how things were supposed to work. If Mr. Stark discarded Jarvis after that... well, Jarvis would feel he'd deserved it.
He was skeptical of Captain Rogers' theory, though. "An unknown sea creature big enough to capsize an aircraft carrier?" he asked.
"We know more about the far side of the Moon than the deep ocean," Agent Romanoff offered. "After all, we've been to the moon."
Captain Rogers frowned. "This may be a silly question, but just for clarity's sake - do you mean you personally?" he asked.
That made Mr. Stark laugh, although it was thin, nervous laughter. "I wouldn't put it past her," he said. "You guys have been watching the nature channel, haven't you?" he asked Agents Barton and Romanoff.
"Blue Planet," Agent Barton confirmed. "There's a lot of David Attenborough on Netflix."
Mr. Stark rubbed the side of his neck and studied the holographic map again. "It looks like the only way to find out for sure is to get out there and take a look at it – preferably by air, since it doesn't seem to like boats. I wish I had my suit!" Jarvis may have been able to perform many of his analytical functions in this body, but he was still well-attuned to the nuances of Mr. Stark's voice, and his frustration was very audible.
"I'm sorry," Jarvis began, but Tony held up a hand to quiet him.
"Not your fault," he said. "We'll just have to work with it. Okay: Thor's off getting over a divine hangover somewhere, I'm grounded, and these three only think they can fly. Agent Wheeler, do you guys have any more helicopters around, or did you give your last one to Balthazar Windham?"
Not your fault, he'd said – but it was Jarvis' fault, wasn't it? Early on Monday morning Dr. Strange had tried to engage Jarvis in a conversation about the nature of consciousness. Jarvis had treated it as a joke, and then this had happened. If he hadn't angered the sorcerer, Mr. Stark would still have access to the Iron Man Suit. And then there was being kidnapped alongside Miss Windham, and now this fiasco with the second blast location... the more Jarvis thought about it, the more his actions over the past few days seemed like nothing but a catalogue of mistakes. Maybe, he thought miserably, that was the 'learning experience' Dr. Strange had wanted him to have. Maybe the difference between human and artificial consciousness was that the latter could not cope with free will. Jarvis had certainly made a mess with his.
"Jarvis?" said Mr. Stark.
He looked up, and realized he'd missed the last few seconds of the conversation. "Sir?" he asked, then corrected himself again: "Tony?" It felt odd to address him by name, and required an effort every time. Jarvis didn't feel worthy of it. Calling Mr. Stark 'Tony' was for people like Miss Potts, Colonel Rhodes, and Captain Rogers – for his friends.
Mr. Stark himself didn't appear to mind, though. "I'm gonna need you to stay here and watch the USGS data coming in, and our position. Keep us posted, make sure we're looking in the right spot, and don't let anything sneak up on us."
Jarvis swallowed. "I would prefer to come with you." Where Stark is. He hadn't even done a very good job of that.
"I need you here," Mr. Stark told him firmly. "You're our earthquake expert. You've been working with those seismographs for months."
"I feel somewhat responsible," Jarvis persisted.
Mr. Stark's answer was immediate and blunt: "then don't. Not your fault, okay? You had no idea this was going to happen, so don't blame yourself. We're all tired and strung out, but we did just fix a tidal wave. Whatever this is, we can fix it, too. Feeling guilty doesn't solve anything."
Guilty. That knotted feeling inside of him, the inability to understand how Mr. Stark could forgive him so quickly when he clearly didn't deserve to be forgiven... that was guilt. Jarvis wished he were back in the house computer where he would never again be subject to it. "Guilt is a terrible emotion," he said.
Mr. Stark's expression softened. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it is."
That was when Jarvis had another unexpected flash of insight. This one wasn't an idea, however – it was something else. He knew there was a word for it: it meant identification with the knowledge of the experiences of another...
Empathy. That was it – because Mr. Stark must know all about guilt. He must carry far more of it than Jarvis could ever imagine. Guilt was the emotion that had made Mr. Stark discontinue his company's production of weapons and become Iron Man. He'd said as much, on more than one occasion.
The experience of empathy wasn't exactly a good feeling, because what Jarvis and Mr. Stark were sharing was an awful, painful thing. Yet the sense of connection was... perhaps 'empowering' was the right word. Mr. Stark had taken his guilt and turned it into productivity, into Iron Man and things like the seismic prediction project that were intended to help people rather than hurt them – and that was what he was asking Jarvis to do now.
"Very well," he said. "I'll try to keep you out of harm's way."
"That's what you do best," Mr. Stark replied.