“Even trying to get a complete picture of how the subject’s prosthetic limb required writing a new imaging program that could combine the results from x-rays, for the inorganic elements that were wired directly to his brain, and MRIs, CAT scans, and every other imagery machine we could think to point at him. Short of opening him up to take a look with our own eyes, the model created by the B.I.T.C.H.E.S. program is the best tool we have to study this incredible and incredibly immoral procedure.” Tony hit a button and a hologram of Bucky’s brain filled the air above him. The crowd of assembled neurologists made an appropriately awed murmur.
“Can you improve the resolution?” A voice called from the middle of the auditorium. “Or is this as good as it gets?”
Tony raised an eyebrow and tried to see the speaker past the spotlights pointed at him. “I recreate a human brain into a 3D, manipulative hologram with multiple layers that can be added or removed based on new scans, and you are asking if you can zoom in?” He asked incredulously. “It’s the same resolution as the average MRI.”
“But if this tool is going to be useful to expand neuroscientific understanding of how a brain can be manually rewired, like it was in this ‘subject’,” the man said, since everyone knew who the mystery subject was, “then we need to be able to see what’s happening on the cellular level with the neurons.”
“Short of opening up his skull and taking tissue samples around the sites where the inorganic material is embedded into his brain, I don’t know how you expect me to add that level of detail to this model.” The room was silent as if all of the gathered scientists and professors were holding their breath.
“I thought I read that you, in conjunction with a scientist from Wakanda, were making, I quote, “grand strides,” in the use of nanotechnology, which by definition are measured in nanometers. Creating an imaging nanocomputer seems like child’s play for someone like you. Or is your technology mostly for playing superhero?“
Only years of practice in public speaking kept Tony’s jaw from dropping. Not only from the sarcasm in the man’s voice, but because that’s actually a good goddamn idea and he was mad he didn’t think about it first. “And how would you propose getting the nanites through the blood-brain barrier?” He challenged the mystery man. “And why don’t you come up here so I can see you?”
A soft sound came up from the crowd as the man made his way from his seat and came up to where Tony was standing on the tiny stage in the university auditorium. This time Tony’s jaw did go slack as he looked up and up into sharp eyes the color of an early morning sky, cheekbones that could cut glass, and thick dark hair that was silvering at the temples. Tony went through 10 different stages of bisexual panic starting with “oh no he’s hot” and ending on “don’t fuck this up and look like an idiot.”
“Your questions make it clear that you haven’t seen that I recently published a paper with a groundbreaking technique I recently developed to do injections directly into the cranial cavity,” the man said, keeping his eyes on Tony’s with an intensity that was not doing anything to help with his bisexual panic. “I have narrowed the needle diameter to that of a human hair, which should still be more than enough to deliver the nanites.”
Damn, Dr. Sexy was right. Programming them to target the appropriate sites would be easy, and he would bet Shuri would have ideas for how to have the nanites break down so they could be excreted. “Well then I guess all that’s left to do is give you my number and we can talk about a collaboration,” Tony said with a smirk, then pushed the podium’s microphone down and to the side as he pulled a business card from his wallet. He scrawled his personal phone number on the back and handed it to Dr. Sexy. “Collaboration,” he said, tapping the phone number printed on the glossy sited. “Coffee or maybe dinner,” he added as he flipped it over to the side he’d written on. He held his breath, heart pounding, as Dr. Sexy studied the card.
Then, with a raised eyebrow and a faint smile curling his wide, narrow mouth, the man tucked the card into his pocket and held out his hand. “Dr. Strange,” he said as his long fingers wrapped around Tony’s hand with a strong, sure grip. “Let’s do both and see what happens.”
Tony smiled back at him, then the sound of scattered applause gradually growing stronger broke the spell. Tony squeezed Dr. Strange’s hand one last time before letting go, then, turning, they both waved at the crowd as Tony pulled the microphone back towards his mouth. “Looks like there’s always something new to learn, right? Special thanks to Dr. Strange for the proposed collaboration on B.I.T.C.H.E.S.,” he said, gesturing to Dr. Strange, who dipped his head at the applause as if it were his due, an arrogant bastard after Tony’s own heart. “And if you are interested in periodic updates on this project, please see my assistant at the end of the presentation.”