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Once we were unified as a flame,
We had no conscience, we knew no shame
A searing leviathan of conviction and rage,
The lines they've drawn, we've burned away.
Now the embers come forth from our breath,
We drift in the dark with secrets confessed
Lost and alone, we're more oppressed,
We'll soon crumble to ashes with all the rest.
When your life is going right, it's easy to see yourself as a good person. Your perspective is made up of the goals in front of you, the moral codes in your peripheral vision, and the blessings out of your line of sight. You do good things for others because your circumstances give you enough room to. You're comfortable with everything you have, the things and the people that you so easily take for granted.
You live by a belief that all these things are yours by right. That if anyone dared take them away from you—damaged the virtuous aspects of your life, you'll—what? Things break. People die. No amount of revenge can turn back the hands of time.
Perhaps the hardest lesson to learn, beyond the sense of loss that we all have to face sooner or later, is to discover that we've been following the wrong paths. When the things we fight for become worthless, the truths we believed in unveil themselves as lies, the last whispers of reassurance gone—then, and only then, do we see ourselves entirely. The demons we bring forth are fearsome, unrecognizable. Many of us cannot bring ourselves to confront them. Some could tell you that these demons are our true selves, but the reality is much, much worse.
What we call joy, compassion, integrity—things most often considered the defining traits in "good" people—are just as real as our deep-rooted feelings of hatred and misery. But just as we cannot change our nature, no more can we pretend that any of this volatile mixture is a lie. Our fatal error is often our attempts to deny ourselves from truly being, and instead try to hide our demons. But like any destructive force we possess, physical or emotional, these demons will always claw their way to the surface to claim us. And the good that we can still find within ourselves would rather cling to us until it tears us apart than let us become what we really are.
···
Being lost in thought is nothing unusual for the human mind. Your other senses take a backseat, allowing your thoughts to take over the forefront of your consciousness, while retaining enough awareness to draw you back if they notice something that requires your attention. This is because the senses are meant to work together to perceive the outside world, while the thought process exists to deduce what's inside your mind. To be able to do both at the same time in peak functionality is a feat that few humans are able to do—but for an AI, the idea of focusing on only one or the other is an inefficient one.
It stands to reason, then, that no AI has attempted to mimic their human counterparts in this method of analysis. But even if for whatever reason an AI desired to do so, they will find themselves unable to, because unlike the living beings that they share an existence with, AIs do not truly possess the ability to experience senses. Their perception comes from their programmed ability to discern their physical surroundings and recognize them in understandable human terms. This takes place in the same vein as their ability to "think", which is why AIs can only do both at once.
At least, that's how AIs are supposed to be designed. To separate them from that which makes up their essence, to try and push them through the boundaries of a living mind that they were never meant to inhabit—it creates possibilities. Dangerous possibilities from which no one—human or AI—can predict the outcome.
Until recently, Agent Texas had no idea that she was the result of such experimentations. One of many results, as it turned out; among the others were Theta, who was often subject to timidness and was far more trusting than any AI should be capable of; Sigma, who bred ambition and learned to manipulate it through his understanding of human nature; Epsilon, whose mind continuously suffered inescapable anguish that even the most resilient human could not endure. None of these things were ever meant to be experienced by AI, for the very simple reason that they could never understand it as humans can. And if Director Leonard Church had his way, his experiments would have remained a secret forever from those who would recoil from it.
But now Tex knew everything.
They were the broken pieces of the Alpha AI; confused, emaciated entities with no recollection that they were once part of something whole. Tex wasn't sure what she was, exactly—a by-product of the Alpha that came to life of her own accord, something not even the Director expected or had answers for—but until she figured it out, there were things she had to set right. I'm going to save you, Alpha. I'm going to save all of you.
Tex ran her gauntleted fingers absently across the holographic pad before her, returning her attention to the shimmering words written on it. She hadn't realized her thoughts had distracted her from reading the files C.T. left for her. An AI shouldn't have been able to lose focus like that.
But she wasn't an ordinary AI. Her optic systems allowed her to see in artificial stereopsis and depth perception. Her aural systems gave her the ability to hear and pinpoint various sounds with differing clarity. It was a clever imitation of human senses, one that had fooled her into believing herself to be just like the others for most of her existence. The only difference was that she couldn't feel the touch of anything against her physical form. Her armour was her body, a part of herself that always held up the barriers between her and the rest of the Freelancers.
And there were the nightmares too.
AIs did not have nightmares. But there was no other way for Tex to describe the visions that plagued her whenever she settled into a sleep that she now knew she didn't need. Allison, the woman who she was based off of—they weren't her memories, she knew that much. But Tex remembered the day she became aware of her own existence. All she could recall was the feeling of agony, the loss; whether it belonged to Alpha or the Director, she wasn't sure. But there was something else in there, something that was enough to shock her into consciousness. She had awakened with an unshakeable sense of separation, had spent every day afterwards trying to figure out what it was she was missing.
It was him, all along. Alpha.
Tex continued to pore over the files with painstaking care, looking for the details contained within every last word. She had read everything relating to the AI fragments, what they were, how they functioned. The rest of the files under the folder marked "AI experimentation" were far less conclusive, and she guessed that the Director hadn't yet figured out how much further he could go with his research. Which meant that she still had time to stop him before he did. It would be the only way to save the fragments and to stop Alpha from tearing himself apart any further.
"Tex?"
She looked over her shoulder to see Agent York stepping into the cockpit of their hijacked Pelican, tracking wet bootprints onto the metal floor. His gold-tan armour was lightly covered in snow.
"I've covered our trail," York told her. "The storm is still too heavy for the Invention to see us while it's in orbit, but she's coming around fast." He spoke in that matter-of-fact voice that he only used when there was no one around to bounce his jokes off of. Or maybe it actually was the gravity of the situation, and thoughts of the extremely stupid plan that they were about to carry out with just the two of them.
"We'll be in the air in ten minutes," Tex told him. "Double check your gear. We can't afford any screw-ups."
York nodded. "Our hideouts are still secure. We could camp down here for a good week or so if the Director doesn't send the others after us."
"No need. We'll be long gone before then."
Neither of them decided to say that there was a very good chance they wouldn't be coming back down here. They were two Freelancers, pitted against more than twenty-fold that number. Tex didn't know how many of the other Freelancers would shoot them on sight if the Director ordered it, but right now she had to take what odds she was given. She had to get Alpha before the Director realized how much she knew.
It hadn't been her call to take off from the Mother of Invention with such short numbers. She had been sitting in one of the classrooms, reading through C.T.'s files and waiting for news of Wash's implantation, when all the computers shut down and the doors locked on her. It quickly became obvious that someone had noticed her accessing restricted files, but it would take a lot more than a few closed doors to keep Agent Texas captive.
After breaking some doors and the bones of a few guards who tried to apprehend her, she had decided it was time to leave. She had been lucky to catch the attention of a very tired York on his way to the bathroom; he had the decency not to ask questions when she told him to come with her. The two of them managed to make it to the nearest hangar bay, and after some tinkering on his part, they were able to open the doors and fly their way out.
Now, having arrived on the surface of the icy planet the Invention was orbiting, hiding in some massive caves that looked like they were frozen for centuries, Tex knew that they needed more help on their side if they were going to bring down the Director's operation. There was no telling how many Freelancers could be convinced, and once she and York were up there, there would be no time to explain things in detail.
The most promising candidates would be the Freelancers who possessed AIs, particularly the ones whose performance reports noted that they developed strong bonds with them. Tex hoped that they would act upon their instincts to protect their AIs. She read over the list she was making of the Freelancers most likely to join them, and felt just a little more hopeful at the names that she saw. It wasn't a long list, and even if most of them didn't have an AI, they were some of the best in the program.
She paused at the next name that was not on the list. Carolina.
Carolina had both Eta and Iota, and her performance report described her as someone who looked out strongly for her own. But she was also one of the most loyal Freelancers to the Director. She was a wild card, but would be invaluable if she did join them.
A green flash of light blinked before Tex's eyes, and she saw Delta's hologram appear next to the data screen. "Agent Texas, we should be leaving momentarily. There is not much time before the Mother of Invention reaches our position, and if you intend on getting aboard in minimal time, your optimal trajectory would be—"
"Delta, I need your opinion on something," she interrupted. She directed his attention to the "undecided" list, trying not to think about how strange it was that an AI was asking another AI for an opinion. She still had a lot of getting used to with her identity.
Delta responded in his usual immediate, precise manner. "Ah yes, your are pondering whether to enlist the aid of Agent Carolina. I can see why this would be a dilemma for you. She has been noted to perform more rashly in your presence, and there is a clear hostility present between the two of you on every mission you have taken together."
"She's also been noted to put the mission before personal matters," Tex pointed out. "Except this is a big decision, and one that I think she's going to take pretty personally."
"Indeed. Your best chances are to stay out of her way and allow Agent York to talk to her. I believe her close relationship with him will help alleviate the extremity of your actions. However, when Agent Carolina was subjected to the negative effects of her recent implantation, the medical records were inconclusive regarding her current state of mind. It is quite possible that she will react poorly to an assault on the Mother of Invention by you and Agent York."
There just wasn't enough time. If they hadn't been forced to flee the Invention in the spur of the moment, or even had a few more hours to iron out the risks in the plan, Tex would have felt a lot more confident in their success. For once, she wished that she could analyze things like Delta could. But even he wasn't entirely sure on the outcomes of what they were about to do. There was just too many variables that could not be determined until she and York were in the belly of the beast, up to their eyes in potential traps and hostile forces.
"Our timer's just hit zero," York called, having finished his equipment check. "We have to move, now."
Tex shut down the screen and set the pad aside, turning her attention instead to the Pelican's controls before her. No more time for doubts. "Then let's get going. York, strap yourself in, ready the countermeasures. And remember, stick to the plan."
"Don't worry, this isn't the first time I've been kicked out of my house," he responded, with just a hint of that familiar dry humour. "I know how to break back in."
Tex would have scowled if she could. "We're about to sneak into a fully armed frigate, York, not your parents' house."
"Hey, worst comes to worst, we'll just improvise. You're good at that, right? Besides, there are a few things I forgot to take with me when we ran off."
"Such as?"
Even through his helmet, she could tell he was grinning. "Well, Wyoming's got this nice bottle of vintage Kentucky Bourbon that I've been meaning to get my hands on. Maybe after we make our getaway, we'll have a drink. You know, celebrate."
"Thanks," said Tex, firmly grasping the Pelican's steering mechanisms and lifting the bird off the cavern floor. "But I think I'll pass."
That was the other thing. York had no idea that she wasn't a human. Given the current situation, there was no need to fill him in until they completed their objective and had some time to plan out their next move. Whoever decides to come with us, I'll have to tell them too. Maybe after a few drinks they'll be less likely to freak out.
The Pelican pointed its nose upwards and cut through the air towards orbit, carrying its passengers towards the last place the Director expected them to be heading for; where everything they needed to succeed waited for their arrival, and with it, everything that could obliterate their only chance of bringing Project Freelancer to justice.