OIA Advanced Weapons Research Facility "Anvil"
Solo Islands
January 15, 2011
Marissa could only stare at the expansive facility that stretched out before her, at a loss for words. It used to be a large aircraft hangar, one of three present on the airport that connected Solo Island A to the rest of the world, but now it was a technological wonderland that rivaled anything her university could produce. The space had been divided into sections by white partitions that resembled cubicles in an office building, short enough that from her position in what would have been a foreman's office at the rear of the hangar she could see into each section. A glint of red metal caught her eye and she looked down to see a rebuilt plane sitting on a raised platform, various computers and lights surrounding it that inexplicably reminded her of an autopsy. It hadn't taken long for Mark to get permission from whoever he answered to and Marissa leveraged her remaining vacation days for bereavement. That was the benefit of having a government agent drop off the effects of a dead relative, by lunch everyone knew about it and wouldn't question anything. Marissa wasn't the only next of kin still receiving them, which helped.
"Impressive isn't it?" an accented voice asked from behind her. Marissa turned to see an older man with graying hair smiling politely at her. He was wearing a kind of clean suit with a prominent ID tag clipped to his chest.
"It is definitely something." Marissa replied "And you are?"
"Professor Albert Volker," Mark chimed in. Volker shot the OIA agent an annoyed glance before returning to his previous smile and offering a hand to shake. Marissa took it and he shook with both hands.
"Just Albert will do. It is such a pleasure to meet you, doctor. Your father spoke very highly of you."
"You knew my father?"
"I did indeed, he and I worked together on this endeavor you see before you." He patted her hand. "I'm so terribly sorry for your loss, Robert was an amazing man."
"So it would seem..." Marissa pulled her hand back. Volker gave her a sad smile.
"Yes, his work did make him rather distant." He removed his pair of round spectacles from his face to clean them against his suit. "Well, enough of this sadness, let me give you the hundred zollar tour."
"Professor, she hasn't been given clearance-." Mark began but Volker cut him off.
"Then you should not have brought her here then, hrm? Come, doctor, I believe you will find the tour enlightening!"
Their first stop was the plane Marissa had spotted earlier. It was a crumpled mess caringly put back together and taken apart many times, connected to a web of diagnostic machines, power sources and computers.
"This is where we started," Volker explained. "An F/A-18 found in the Skully Islands without a pilot." He led the way over to a table where a large computational unit with an attached camera array, connected to a small monitor, was placed by itself. "Instead, it had this, a Control, Piloting, Reconnaissance and Ocular system." He gave a wry grin. "Or so we have managed to piece together."
"This is what allows autonomous flight." Marissa stepped forward to look at the aged system closer. "Ports to connect to the flight computer, cameras to look outside the cockpit, gyros to orientate itself in space." Volker looked impressed.
"Precisely. At first, we thought this would allow the conversion of existing aircraft into unmanned, pilotable drones like those the public plays with in parks." He reached over and flicked a large toggle switch that had been jury rigged onto the side. "Until we found that it contained this." The monitor flickered to life and lines of code began to crawl across the screen. Marissa watched the lines pass by, frowning. "Do you see it?" His words appeared on the screen, connected to some type of catalogue if she read the commands right.
"The code is rewriting itself?" As she spoke the crawl paused, her words appearing on the screen along with a series of identifiers she didn't recognize, before resuming.
"Is it?"
"No?" Her words appeared on screen again but there was no pause this time, as if it didn't need to catalogue anything anymore. "No. It's... reacting to what it hears. Almost like it's..."
"Learning," Volker finished, nodding in approval. He switched the machine off. "We were able to locate the source code. Well, your father was able to. From there we made a copy and began to experiment." Volker gestured for her to follow, Mark dogging his heels like a lost puppy. They moved to another, larger section where a row of units similar to the one on the table were being poked and prodded by technicians. "First, we tried to reverse engineer the controlling unit. As you can see, we've had quite a bit of success." Marissa walked amongst the various work stations, noting that each progressive unit was getting more and more compact. Except for the last one, which doubled in size to that of a mini fridge. The technician noticed her trying to get a better look and pushed his wheelchair back so she could take his spot.
"It's almost finished ma'am," he told Marissa. "Just waiting on the last print."
"I'm sorry?"
"Oh, I thought he'd introduced us already." He gave her a cheeky grin and a cavalier salute before offering a hand to shake. "Seaman Jonas Volker, Chief Manufacturing Tech on a permanent 'temporary' transfer from the Navy." Marissa took it and they shook firmly.
"Doctor Atkinson," she returned, giving Volker a sideward glance. "Volker you said?"
"Yes ma'am, this place is a real family affair!" Jonas told her cheerfully. Volker stepped forward to place his hands on Jonas' shoulders.
"Aheh, Jonas here is my nephew. He was a maintenance crewman on the Buzzard specializing in flight control systems and computers."
"Then I got blown up!" Jonas added in cheerfully. "Now I get to work with my uncle on all kinds of stuff, like these things." He pointed at the computer unit he had been working on. "COPRO, that's what I shortened it too, allowing any fighter with sufficient cockpit space to become a remotely piloted drone." Jonas gave her an appraising look. "You here to replace your dad?"
"Jonas!" Volker reprimanded before giving Marissa an apologetic look. "I apologize, sometimes he speaks without thinking."
"Better than thinking without speaking. So, you gonna stick around? I know Trigger would be over the moon."
"Who?" Marissa asked. A sudden beeping sound immediately caught Jonas' attention.
"That's the print done. Excuse me, ma'am, Uncle." Jonas leaned backwards and spun in place before wheeling his way to a large 3D printer. Volker watched him go before sighing.
"I'm sorry, Jonas means well, he's just very direct."
"It's fine," Marissa assured him. "So, who's Trigger?" Volker gave her an indulging smile.
"Follow me."
Gründer Industries Research Center
Northern Usea
"Schroeder, do you have a moment?"
Dr. Zacharias Schroeder sighed, looking up from his computer. "Certainly," he replied. "If the moment's brief." His visitor, a man from corporate who never seemed to mention his name, smiled.
"Well, then I'm afraid I may have to disappoint you." He produced a yellow envelope from within his well tailored gray suit and placed it on Schroeder's desk. "Do you know what this is?"
"An envelope?" Schroeder picked it up and read the stamp on the front. "Z.O.E.?"
"An old project, long buried. Much like our beloved leaders are, come to think of it." He paused to consider the comparison, savoring the thought. "I decided to exhume it before Osea could get its grubby hands on it." At that Schroeder shrugged, not caring much about the whole plot his company had perpetrated at the end of the war, though he did disapprove of the V1s he'd assisted in creating guidance computers for. Nuclear weapons and their kind were inelegant weapons, old tech for an old war lost decades ago.
"You want me to catalogue it?" Schroeder asked.
"I want you to reactivate it." The man smiled tightly. "We've already begun seeking customers. Just because half the company declared war on the world doesn't mean the other half can't turn a profit." He folded his arms behind his back. "All the relevant information is in there. I am sure you'll find it fascinating. It also contains your new ID card with increased clearance. Can't have our new chief researcher blocked by closed doors." Schroeder blinked, stunned. "What I can't give you is a check or personnel, but given the current chaos a smart man can procure whatever he needs." The man checked his watch. "Well, I suppose that was a brief moment after all. I won't keep you any longer, I am sure you will be very busy for the foreseeable future."
"I suppose I will be," Schroeder replied. The man turned around and began to walk away.
"Oh, one more thing. Your first progress report is due in 30 days." He looked back over his shoulder. "I'll be waiting."
OIA Advanced Weapons Research Facility "Anvil"
Solo Islands
Volker had led her through the entire facility, pointing out different sections along the way. Mark was called away by a phone call, leaving just the two of them to proceed to the farthest room. It was the largest space in the center, with rows of computers and servers being looked after by technicians dressed similarly to Professor Volker, visible through glass partitions. It was a server room, entirely sealed off from the rest of the space with its own HVAC system. Off to the side, oddly, was a desk with three monitors, a microphone, speakers and a camera. Next to it was a bookshelf stuffed with puzzles, flash cards, children's books, textbooks and aircraft manuals. Tucked in the corner was a military flight simulator, wrapped in plastic. Volker walked over to the monitors and turned them on. They must have been connected to the panoramic camera on the desk because Volker was immediately displayed, though after a few seconds of typing the left and right monitors changed to diagnostic screens and what looked like a chat box. Finished, he reached over and clicked on the microphone before turning to face Marissa.
"Doctor Atkinson, meet Trigger." Like before, his words appeared on screen in the chat window. Unlike before, the computer talked back.
"Hello Doctor Atkinson. I am identified as the Trainable, Intelligent Guidance and Response operating system. Human personnel refer to me as 'Trigger.' It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The voice was a smooth, soft monotone that sounded vaguely masculine. Marissa's jaw dropped. The camera on the desk rotated to focus on Volker. "Is this the individual the deceased Doctor Atkinson spoke of often? I was informed that she would be taking his place as my primary instructor." At that Marissa snapped out of her stupor, marching over and grabbing Volker's arm.
"Walk with me," she said firmly, dragging him away from the machine despite his protests.
"Doctor Atkinson?" Trigger called as the pair moved away, his camera panning between the two. "Have I given offense?" Marissa pulled Volker behind the simulator.
"What is this?" she demanded.
"I'm sorry?"
"What is that?" She pointed at the desk from which Trigger continued to call out after them. "What the hell is that and why does it know who I am?"
"Doctor Atkinson please, you are overreacting. You must control yourself, Trigger is very impressionable."
"Impressionable? I thought this program was designing drones!"
"It is, we are!" Volker stuttered. "When New Horizons first started its goal was to understand that aircraft recovered during the Usean Coup D'etat. The OIA discovered that it was an autonomous drone of a complexity thought impossible. For years they couldn't do anything about it, the technology to make use of it didn't exist! Your father and I were brought on because we were experts in our fields, A.I. and Autonomous Systems." He rubbed his forehead. "We tore the wreck apart and when we found the learning code, everything changed. Our original intent was to produce remotely piloted aircraft, that way Osea wouldn't lose so many young men and women every time a war starts. But the A.I. we found revealed an even greater project. If... if we could train an A.I. to fly, to stand amongst the finest aces in the world and come out the victor, then the possibilities could be endless. We could teach A.I. to do things that could benefit the world!"
"Professor Volker, is everything alright? Have I committed an error?" Trigger's voice carried, the machine having increased the speaker's volume to maximum.
"Execute standard shutdown Trigger!" Volker yelled back. A loud beep was heard and the screens switched off. Volker continued."Yet, there was a problem. How do you teach an A.I.? I wanted to run simply on logical reasoning and algorithmic learning but Robert, genius that he was, came up with a different solution." Volker pointed at Trigger's bookshelf as he explained. "Teach it like a human, make it learn the human way. Trigger is meant to work alongside humanity, so he needs to understand how we think. And by God it worked! But there are still flaws, still gaps in what Trigger can understand and that's before we teach him how to fly, how to fight, how to win!" Volker sighed. "Robert was the only one who could reach him. Trigger's bonded to him and now he's gone. We thought maybe you could take his place."
"So that's all that I am, his replacement?" Marissa asked, scandalized. "You lost the real thing so you needed the imitation?"
"Ye- No! If we cannot continue Trigger's instruction they will shut him down, shut all of this down!" Volker took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry, truly. I cannot imagine how you feel right now, but you may be the only person who can save everything we've built." He leaned against the simulator's mock cockpit. "He was making all of this for you I think. Trigger was his first step to give you a brighter future." Volker gave her a wry grin. "I'm an eccentric man, maybe even a foolish one, but I'm also a stubborn man. So I will ask you again. Will you please stay and join us?"
"I... I need to think about all of this." Marissa stepped away, rubbing her forehead. "Determine what I need to do, what I want to do."
"Of course madchen, whatever you desire." Volker smiled paternally. "I'm sure whatever choice you make will be the right one." With a polite nod, Volker walked back towards the front of the hangar, leaving Marissa to process it all. They hadn't wanted her for her knowledge, they wanted her because she was an Atkinson, her distant father's daughter forever trapped in his shadow working on the very thing that had taken him from her. Marissa drew herself up to her full height. No, let that legacy die here. He was never there for her, so why should she be here for him, now? With a huff she stormed around the simulator and back the way she came, the desktop camera tracking her all the way.