The press called it impossible. Engineers called it madness. Economists called it financial suicide.
Alex Price called it Tuesday.
The space elevator project began in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, far from major shipping lanes, where the ocean's depth and calm currents offered stability. A floating city of platforms, cranes, and titanic pylons rose from the waves, its scale dwarfing even the largest aircraft carriers.
The anchor was unlike anything humanity had ever seen: a carbon-nanotube composite tether, thinner than a human fingernail but stronger than steel by orders of magnitude. It stretched upward into the sky, vanishing into the atmosphere where, in synchronous orbit, a counterweight station the size of a small city drifted above the Earth.
Day and night, drones swarmed the site, welding, assembling, weaving the tether like a divine loom. Nuclear-powered freighters carried machinery to the floating platforms. Submarines patrolled beneath, guarding against sabotage. It wasn't just an engineering project it was a declaration of dominance.
On the central platform, Alex stood with Tony Stark and Vision, overseeing the first stress test of the tether.
Tony wore a neon safety vest over his Armani suit, looking deeply out of place. He tapped a tablet, then glanced at Alex. "You do realize, if this thing snaps, it's going to whip around the planet and slice through cities like the world's most expensive cheese wire?"
Alex didn't flinch. "Which is why it won't snap. The weave is layered with adaptive nanites. If stress rises, the bond tightens. Self-repair in under a second."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Nanites. Right. Because nothing bad has ever happened when you put self-replicating technology on a tether the length of a planet."
Vision, hovering serenely nearby, tilted his head. "Actually, Anthony, given the tensile strength and regenerative capability Alex describes, the probability of catastrophic failure is… approximately 0.002 percent."
Tony shot him a look. "Whose side are you on, J.A.R.V.I.S. 2.0?"
Vision blinked. "I am not on a side. I am merely… accurate."
Alex smirked. "Which is why I like him. He's honest."
Tony threw up his hands. "Great. First Ultron wanted to kill us all, now you're making Vision your hype man."
Vision ignored him, floating higher to examine the tether disappearing into the stratosphere. "It is… beautiful. Humanity constructing a bridge to the heavens. The symbology is almost religious."
Alex's eyes hardened, just for a moment. "It is more than religion. It is survival."
The test began.
Massive turbines kicked in, pulling the tether taut. On the horizon, the counterweight station adjusted its orbit, thrusters flaring as it balanced against Earth's pull. The ocean platform trembled under the strain, waves slapping against its reinforced hull.
For three agonizing minutes, alarms flashed and data streamed across monitors. Tony chewed on his lip, muttering math under his breath. Vision hovered silently, analyzing stress points in real time. Alex stood motionless, eyes locked on the data, as if daring the tether to fail.
Then stability. The readings leveled out. The tether held.
A cheer erupted from the workers across the floating city. Drones lit their signal lights in green. Fireworks burst over the ocean as if someone had planned the celebration early.
Tony let out a long breath and grinned. "Well, I'll be damned. You actually did it. A giant cosmic yo-yo, and it didn't shred the planet. Congratulations, Price you've just made NASA, SpaceX, and half the world's governments look like amateur hour."
Alex allowed himself the faintest smile. "This is only the beginning. Next comes the orbital processing hub. Then the lunar relay station. Mars is within reach."
Vision, ever literal, interjected: "Actually, Mars has always been within reach. The challenge has simply been one of fuel efficiency and atmospheric entry."
Tony groaned. "Vision, buddy, sometimes you don't have to actually be correct."
Vision blinked, puzzled. "Would it not be dishonest otherwise?"
Alex chuckled. "Let him be, Stark. Honesty is in short supply these days."
Tony wagged a finger at Alex. "Don't get philosophical on me, Price. I just realized something terrifying. Between my Arc Reactor, your nanite tether, and Vision's endless encyclopedia brain, we've basically formed the world's nerdiest boy band."
Vision looked genuinely confused. "Boy band?"
Alex deadpanned, "He means a group of men who sing and dance to appeal to mass audiences."
Vision's eyes lit with curiosity. "Fascinating. Do we require choreography?"
Tony facepalmed. "Oh God. Forget I said anything."
The three of them stood there an eccentric billionaire, a man touched by machine divinity, and a synthezoid born of code watching the first space elevator in human history hold steady against the Earth itself.
The world would wake tomorrow to the news: humanity had taken its first step into the stars.
And Alex Price was leading the way.