Ada awoke to a voice that was getting old –FILSS's, bright and peppy as always. Ada was seriously considering the pros and cons of shooting the AI's speakers with the Magnum on her desk, but ultimately decided against it and attributed the urge to being especially grumpy this morning.
"Good morning, Agent Nevada," FILSS chirped. "The Director wishes to see you."
'Wishes'? Ha. More like 'demands'.
Ada was awake enough not to mention those thoughts out loud.
"Thanks, FILSS,' she replied instead, trying for a tone as happy as the AI's, but coming off as sarcastic and strained. A quick glance at the clock revealed the time to be 0600 –not an uncommon sight for Ada, but one she preferred to see by will.
Ada hopped out of her bed, heading towards the cabinet that contained her armour, but was stopped by FILSS's interruption.
"Armour is not required."
"Right," Ada said, turning towards her closet. The closet was bigger than it needed to be, and Ada found her uniform easily. As Ada dressed (more than slightly creeped out by FILSS's 'presence') the AI continued talking.
"Today, you will take part in the Project's next stage," she said.
"Next stage?" Ada asked, yawning.
"Correct."
"What's that?"
FILSS paused. "You shall find out when you get to the briefing."
Ada suppressed an irritated sigh, but at least the conversation had woken her up a bit.
She left her room, and headed towards the caf to get a breakfast-to-go.
"Agent Nevada, please head directly to the bridge. You do not wish to be late," FILSS lectured.
"So, I only got five minutes' notice?" Ada asked. "That's –really not that surprising, when I think about it."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing, FILSS. I'm just talking to myself."
"That is the first sign of an unstable mind –"
"If I answered myself, it would be. Everyone talks to themselves," Ada pointed out.
Ada was a bit surprised by the silence that followed –in a person, her comment might warrant a sigh or a snide comment. With FILSS, however, her comment ended the discussion entirely.
When she arrived outside the bridge, she found two more people there –one of which she did not expect to see.
"Maine?"
"Nice to see you, too, kid," Wash grumbled cheerfully, smiling like an idiot. Ada attributed that to the fact that his best friend was alive and kicking.
"Yeah, hi, Wash," Ada said, purposely dismissive. His scowl brought out a laugh in the younger agent.
"How are you?" she asked, turning her attention back to Maine.
He gave her a you're kidding, right? look that reminded her of the medic's words.
"Shit, right, sorry –" Ada stopped herself. On examination of Maine's throat, the scars were large and an angry red, and Ada was certain she could see the tell-tale glint of bionic parts.
Maine let out a halting growl that could've been a chuckle, and Wash shook his head.
"I guess we find out what happened to York, Tex and Carolina today," Ada commented.
"I guess so," Wash agreed. In response to the questioning look Maine gave them, the two explained all that had happened while he was in the infirmary. When they'd finished their tale, the door to the bridge finally slid open.
"Sir!" the three Freelancers said (well, two Freelancers; Maine just growled to that effect), surprised into the reaction that had been trained into them as they saw the Director standing right inside.
"Today you will be participating in the next stage of the Project," the Director drawled, repeating FILSS's words and skipping any greetings.
The three exchanged questioning glances before quickly returning their collective gaze to the Director.
"The next stage is to pair adept soldiers with aggressive artificial intelligence," he continued. "The idea is that the AIs will assist soldiers and keep them updated on the battlefield. The process is painless. It only requires a small upgrade to your standard UNSC neural implant –the AI's source chip will remain in your helmet."
Well. That explains the mystery of the helmet-slot, Ada thought.
"With the exception of you, Nevada," the Director said.
"Sir?"
"You will take part in a slightly different experiment –the AI's source chip will be implanted into your body," the Counsellor said, stepping in.
Ada had no idea about the medical mumbo jumbo that came with the implantation –she just knew that having a computer shoved inside her brain didn't sound like fun. She strived to keep a neutral expression, but from the looks of the men on either side of her, she wasn't doing very well.
"The implantation's side effects involve dizziness, nausea and possible loss of consciousness –but they last for a very short time," the Counsellor assured them.
"The infirmary is already set up for your arrival. Any questions?" the Director seemed impatient.
"Sir?" That was Wash.
"Yes, Washington?" the Director snapped.
"Uh, what about, um, rampancy?" Wash said the last word with uncertainty, like he wasn't entirely sure it was the right one. Ada knew 'rampancy' was the AI version of dementia, and found it a very understandable thing to worry about.
"These AIs will not be subject to rampancy, as they are not smart AIs," the Counsellor guaranteed.
"Are there any more questions?" the Director drawled, clearly impatient now.
When there were none, the Freelancers were led to the infirmary (Ada swore she heard Maine grumble a bit) and separated. There were four doctors working on Ada –more than the others, who only had two.
Ada was asked to take strip, and one particularly considerate doctor closed the curtains around her, giving Ada a comforting smile. The same doctor took Ada's uniform and folded it, placing it on a nearby gurney.
In no time, Ada was lying, face-down, on the operating table (there was a little hole for her face, so she was staring at the ground). The doctors administered local anaesthetic (which stung like a bitch before going numb) and one of them spoke.
"Now, ma'am, this process now is only the upgrade to your neural implant –you'll be put under for the actual implantation," he explained.
While he worked, Ada worried. This whole AI implantation thing was decidedly experimental –of course, she'd known Project Freelancer was an experiment, but she hadn't imagined something like this. What was even worse was that she had what seemed like a far more dangerous procedure to deal with.
Ada decided not to focus on potential damage that could happen to her –she wouldn't know where to start, and it was out of her control. Backing out didn't even cross her mind; she wasn't even sure she was allowed to.
Instead she focused on the most trivial thing her mind could bring up: would she like her AI?
If it (he? she?) was anything like FILSS, unlikely. The overly peppy voice got on her nerves, and she couldn't imagine having to listen to that 24/7. FILSS was alright in small doses, but not long term.
If not like FILSS, then what?
A wave of vertigo hit her as the doctors finished the upgrade.
Any more thought was interrupted by a sharp jab in her arm, and her darkening vision.
