Absolute Gravity

I woke gasping. I didn’t know what I expected to see when I opened my eyes. A place I didn’t know yet—a place that was fading away in the new memory I found myself in.

I was in Malibu.

“Wow,” Tony said, standing at the entryway to my bedroom. “I don’t know how you managed. But you got this place turned into a dump real fast.” I blinked at him in confusion.

This wasn’t right.

It wasn’t real.

“I’m not exactly up for cleaning these days,” I admitted. The words came out of me whether I wanted them to or not.

The truth was fading away again, slipping into the Darkness.

“You could have a housekeeper, you know?”

“Dana says I should stop being so lazy.”

“Dana lived on a farm that needed constant maintenance. Dana doesn’t have depression or chronic pain. I’ll help.”

“Please don’t.”

He did anyway. He got to work gathering up the scattered clothes and putting them in the hamper. I moved slowly toward the edge of the bed, watching this loop. How many times had I seen this? Lived it?

“Where were you, Tony?” I asked. “You promised you’d be there when I woke up. But you weren’t.”

He didn’t answer. Because I’d never asked that question. This Tony was just a memory. He hadn’t made that promise yet.

“I have a gift for you,” he said instead. “Consider it a late birthday present.”

“I didn’t really want any presents.”

“I know that. That’s why I didn’t come to your party. But rest assured, it’s a completely self-serving gift. Your sister won’t marry me if I can’t find a way for you to be there.” He stood out straight and wiggled out his arms. “Watch this.” He pressed a button on the side of his glasses. In an instant, his nano-tech consumed him, swallowing his body in a flexible version of his trademark red and gold armor. Then I was sitting there, staring at the ghost of Iron Man in my bedroom.

“That’s pretty neat, Tony,” I said.

“Cool, right?”

“Very cool.” The armor began to break down again until it was nothing more than undetectable little packages disguised as useful accessories. “Does Secretary Ross know you’ve been working on this kind of tech?”

“Of course he does. They just don’t know I have a completed suit.”

“Hmm.” Hypocritical. “Do they know you have a living biological weapon in your beach house?” He laughed almost sarcastically.

“Of course not.” They would have come asking questions if they did.

“Probably not very smart. I owe back taxes.”

“Your taxes are fine. I have your mail forwarded. They don’t care as long as it gets paid.”

“I haven’t paid any bills.”

“Like I said, don’t worry about it.”

“That’s illegal, Tony.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I sighed loudly. I hated owing people money. Especially Tony Stark.

“What does this have to do with me?” He pulled a watch out of his pocket and tossed it onto the bed. It was a simple design. Enough that it wouldn’t attract too much attention. It was still heavier and bulkier than something I would have chosen for myself. It was black and silver, expensive and lethal-looking.

“It’s a start,” he told me. “Your own suit. I painted it to match your fancy knives.”

“Like an Iron-Man suit?”

“No. God, no. It’s more like a self-contained, reversed hazmat suit. But you know, with flair. I wanted something that could recreate the environment of this apartment. Something that can monitor your heart rate. The suit activates if the Darkness, or whatever you call it, increases. That’s the concept, anyway. It’s still in the trial phase.”

“Chaos,” she said. Then Beata was sitting beside me. Casually, as if we were just two pals hanging out in my bed. She glanced at me as she leaned on her arm. “I hate it when you call me Darkness. That’s what I’m made of. Not what I am.” She was gone as quickly as she appeared. I thought about this and turned back to Tony.

“Chaos,” I corrected. Since he obviously didn’t hear all that. He was busy looking down at his own watch, not paying much attention to me as he prattled on about the mechanics of his nano-tech.

“What?”

“Her name. It’s Chaos. That’s what Beata named her.”

And then something hit me. She was a memory too. That exchange had not been with the current version of her. The one that seemed to have control.

“That’s what I’m made of. Not what I am.”

“Her?” he asked. I shrugged.

“It’s part of me. Feels right.” He blinked like I was nuts.

“I’m sure it doesn’t have a concept of gender, Jo.”

“It’s viewing the world through my eyes. So it understands gender on a human level. It occupies my body.”

“Okay. Chaos it is then. That sounds about right anyway.”

“It doesn’t mean Chaos as a destructive force. More like—Chaos the god. Or pre-god, I suppose.”

“That’s what I’m made of. Not what I am.”

“Somehow even more fitting,” he continued. Breaking me out of my fractured thoughts.

“How so?”

“Chaos was the god of darkness.” What she’s made of. Not what she is. “The primordial void that existed before the universe. The formless mass that created the gods.”

“Also a place,” Chaos helpfully added, sitting beside me again.

“What you’re made of. Not what you are,” I repeated. She didn’t say anything. “Yeah—fitting.”

He finally looked up. Having no idea that I was hearing voices in my head on top of the frequent blackouts where I walked around and did things without knowing it. Add that to the chronic pain and frequent vomiting of black liquid, and we had a recipe for crazy.

“Either way, try her on. Let’s see how she fits,” Tony said.

I wasn’t eager to test it. But if it meant I could go outside and do things, I’d do it. So I climbed out of bed and slid the watch onto my wrist. Then I stood there, staring at Tony.

“It’s not doing anything right now,” I pointed out.

“No shit. There’s a manual button on the side. Give it a try.”

The watch was digital, so it had no hands. But there was a wind-up switch on the side anyway. So I took a wild guess and pressed it like a button. The nano-tech spilled out of my watch the same cold way the Darkness seeped out of my skin the day I almost killed Bucky. But it only made it as far as my collarbone before it ran out of juice. It was shiny, metal, and dangerously black. With only the barest hint of silver. Because Tony could never resist giving something a little bit of spice.

“Whoa,” I said, twisting my arm. I could feel the cold press of metal shift to accommodate my movements.

“Cool, right?”

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“Still working on it. I’m working on ports right now. The watch was easy, but you don’t wear glasses, so I’m trying to come up with something for you to wear all the time. But you’re not exactly the fashionable type, so it’s proving a little challenging.”

“I don’t mind glasses.”

“Your minor enhancements also give you perfect vision. So I didn’t see the point.”

“What?” He looked up at me, an eyebrow raised.

“Jo—you do realize you have minor enhancements, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Of course you do. You inherited them from your biological mother. The Chaos or whatever wouldn’t be able to latch onto you without it. There’s a reason they needed you and only you.” I shook my head.

“Ivan said it didn’t seem to make a difference.”

“Not noticeably, anyway. You never questioned why you were the only person in a family of near-sighted people with perfect vision?”

“I don’t fucking know. No one ever said anything.” He shrugged.

“Either way, Clara wouldn’t want you wearing glasses to the wedding. She wants me to come up with something pretty for you. But it’s not something you’d be able to wear casually. You’re not a casual diamonds kind of girl.” I took a deep breath and ran a hand up and down the metal plates on my arm. It felt painfully familiar. His arm was black. Not silver. “She wants you to look your best. Even if you don’t feel it.”

“Do I look that bad?”

“You look like someone who hasn’t left their bed in a month.”

“Well—not wrong.”

“The wedding is in three weeks.” I deactivated the suit and watched it spill back into the watch around my wrist. Then I took it off and handed it back out.

“Will that be enough time to finish a full suit and complete trials?” He took it back and nodded.

“We may have to do a few test runs before we let you into any crowds, but I think it’ll be enough. How are you feeling?”

“Everything hurts—all the time. I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t. I’m pretty sure this is just a memory.” He ignored the last part.

“I thought so. Still vomiting frequently? Nosebleeds?”

“Every few days at least.” He sighed.

“I’m doing the best I can.”

“I know. Any word on the Steve front?” He turned away, not wanting me to see the flash of anger. We were making progress. On friendlier terms. But we weren’t on stable ground yet.

“No.”

“Just thought I’d ask.”

“Hoping to hear about Barnes?”

Barnes is dead.

“Of course I am.”

He was alive. His arm was black.

“I’d better get back to work. Make sure you put the dishes away when the washer is done. And throw your laundry in the hamper. You can’t miss it. It’s literally right there.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”