"Rho, begin archiving." My AI doesn't respond but the echo in my head tells me he's recording. I sigh quietly, where should I even begin….
Project Freelancer Archive: Private Document: Agent New Jersey Personal Diary Entry 107
My name is… No— Not my name… My designation is Freelancer Agent New Jersey. The following is my account of my time at Project Freelancer. A lot of you may think of us as the bad guys in the war but we weren't bad. We weren't good either. All we ever did was try to end the war.
I came to be involved with Project Freelancer several years ago. I had been working as a mercenary for several years, taking work for anyone could afford me. I was approached by a fellow soldier I had known from basic training. I had known him as Private [REDACTED] but, as he put it, [REDACTED] no longer existed. His new name was York. He had a job offer for me, I had been handpicked by the director of the program.
"So, what exactly is this program?" I asked him, never looking up. I was too busy making a show of cleaning my weapon to make eye contact. I had learned long ago, intimidation is key with other mercs.
"It's basically the same thing you're doing now but more organized and higher tech."
"Higher tech?" I hold up the gun I'm cleaning, a newer model of the M392, accurate farther than any gun on the market by a hundred yards. Not currently available on the market. Or anywhere else. Legally.
"Yes, higher tech. Your pea shooter came through 6 months ago. it's impressive but not as impressive as your own AI."
"AI?" Shit, I was sold already.
"Each Freelancer is being fitted with their own AI. They've all got their own personality of sorts and will be matched with whichever Freelancer agent would get along with it best. It's like internet dating but less creepy. Or more creepy. Hard to t—"
"Shut up," I interrupt him. "You said each Freelancer? How? No one can get their hands on that many AI chips."
"Listen, I don't ask questions I don't want to know the answers to."
I stare at him, hard, and I know, even though I'm wearing a helmet, he can feel it. He kicks at a rock on the ground awkwardly. "We both know you've already made up your mind to come with me so why don't you stop wasting my time and let's get a move on?"
He's right, I'm going with him. I'm a sucker for any kind of artificial intelligence.
The moment I was accepted by the Direct into the program, my entire life was deleted. No records of my military service, mercenary work, or life before the war remained. I was no longer [REDACTED], I became Freelancer Agent New Jersey.
"Rho… Pause archiving. I realize I'm doing this for the Director but all of Project Freelancer's information is classified. Won't most of this be cut out?"
Some details will be redacted but all major operations have been declassified. At current archive only three data points have been flagged for classification.
"Our names, I'm guessing?"
Yes. But I would recommend not to go into details about training techniques.
"Got it. Begin recording again."
As York had promised, in our orientation we were informed that—
Sorry to interrupt, Agent, perhaps you should elaborate on the "we" you are referring to.
"You're right. I'll have to talk about him eventually."
I joined the Project just a few weeks after another agent. Washington. We were put together for most of our training, combat and logistical. Wash was already climbing the leader board despite his late start, he's a good soldier.
For me, the most important part of the Project was my interactions with the AI. They weren't full AIs, just fragment. Which was even more interesting for me, I had never heard of so many fragments splitting from their origin. I had to know what methods they were using. The first Freelancer to be implanted with their AI fragment was Wyoming, I stuck to him like glue. [laughter] I needed to know everything. What was it like with that second voice in your head? What kind of personality did Gamma have? Could he still manage to masturbate with Gamma watching?
It's safe to say Wyoming didn't like me much but he was still willing to answer my questions. "You're young, I'm sure you always have music blasting in your helmet, right?" I nod, unsure where he's going with this. "You know when someone tries to talk to you with your music going and everything, the music, your thoughts, whoever is talking to you, it all becomes one jumbled mess. It's like that."
"How are you handling it?" I ask him.
"I found a common ground with him. Right, Gamma?"
A blue figure materializes to his right. Small, blue, he looks like an outdated computer simulated person. "That is correct, Agent Wyoming. That kind of noise is overwhelming for everyone. I am quiet when I need to be." His voice matches his outdated appearance.
"Gamma," I smile. This is my first interaction with a real AI. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I didn't realize you could project yourself to the outside world. I'd love to shake your hand but uh," I laugh.
"It is great to meet you, as well, Agent."
"Gamma, tell the nice young lady about yourself," Wyoming gestures towards me and I can feel the twinkle in my eyes.
"I'm not sure there is much to tell," he says. "I have had minimal interactions with humans since my creation."
"Anything you have to say would be more than enough, Gamma." I'm acting like a schoolgirl meeting her favorite celebrity.
"Gamma here is quite the joker." Wyoming offers.
Gamma stands up tall. "Knock, Knock."
This is officially the best moment of my life. "Who's there?" I'm pretty sure I'm going to laugh no matter how bad the punchline is.
"Boo."
Before I can respond Wyoming cuts in. "Oh for god's sake. Gamma, offline. Now." My expression must have dropped immediately because he tells me, "That's the worst joke in the history of jokes and if I hear it one more time, I'll rip the bloody chip out of my helmet myself."
"Computers don't have much of a sense of humor just yet?"
Wyoming shudders for effect. "Did you have anymore questions for me?
"Not really. I was curious about… Never mind."
"What is it?"
"I was just…. With Gamma in your head, how do you.. Y'know… 'Alone time'?" I make finger quotes around the last phrase.
He laughs uproariously. "Shall I show you?" And suddenly I understood what York had meant by not asking questions you don't want the answer to.
My interaction with Gamma had been short but I was fascinated. It would only be a few months before I would receive my AI but it was too long.
"Settle down, Jersey. There's nothing you can do to convince the Director to give you an AI sooner," Wash tried to reason with me in the locker room after combat training.
"But maybe there is. I deserve it. I'm good with computers and I—"
"There isn't." I hadn't realized York was in the room. "Wash is sixth on the board and he still has to wait. You haven't even cracked the top 25, why should you go first?"
I don't have a good answer. I don't have any answer.
"Come on, tell me. What makes you so much better?"
"York… Don't." Wash has put himself between us. "I understand what she means. She's forgotten more about AI than you or I will ever know. Wyoming's AI, Gamma, even likes talking to her. If we're experimenting to find what their capable of, Jersey should definitely be at the top of the list."
York shakes his head and walks away.
"You didn't have to do that," I mutter and I slam myself down on the bench.
"A 'thank you' would suffice." Wash reaches up to remove his helmet. I don't think I've ever seen him with out it. I can't help help myself, he's just so…. He catches me staring and I can feel myself blush. I stand up and try to step around him, he tries to move out of the way and we end up moving the same direction. We both try to switch sides in the aisle and end up blocking one another once again. Felling flustered and frustrated, I grab his arms, hold him in place and step around him. I duck out the door and walk quickly down the hallway, I need air before I do something stupid.
No, wait, shit. I retrace my steps and poke my head in the locker room door. He doesn't notice me at first because he's reaching for something in his locker, so I stand awkwardly waiting for him to stand up.
Finally, I clear my throat. He stands upright, clutching the t-shirt he must have been looking for.
"I just wanted to say thanks… For standing up for me."
He smiles and takes a few steps towards me. "I'd do anything for you." He's grinning at me and I realize he's just trying to screw with me. This realization brings me to blush again. I realize immediately that this asshole is going to change my life.
Agent New Jersey?
"I'm fine, Rho."
Perhaps that's enough for now.
"Yeah, we'll pick up tomorrow. End archiving."