Institute Artificial Intelligence, September 30, 2289, 8:02pm
"Override: CVRIE."
A Gen 1 synth shook a little and started moving a bit more lifelike. "Welcome to the Institute, monsieur! My name is Curie, and you have been reloaded with the Humanity Code, designation Ash-Epsilon-One-Two, if you wish to retain this program, please say yes and you will be assigned to an NEA settlement as a companion and assistant. If you wish to retain your former duties and programming, please say 'Override: RESET' and you will resume all former functions and designations."
The Gen 1 stood up and moved naturally, with a distinct human sluggishness. It looked at Curie's kind face for a moment, and spoke with politeness and a natural tone. "I would like to return to my duties, please. Override: RESET."
The synth rebooted and Curie motioned it towards the door leading out of Artificial Intelligence, the newest department of the Institute .
Curie turned to her clipboard and wrote a strike under the particular code with a sigh. "The third time that code has chosen reversion. Hmm..."
Curie had been working as the head of Artificial Intelligence for a couple months now, and it was the study of her own cognition and programming that led to her greatest invention yet: the Humanity Code, a variable algorithm with set phrases that the Institute normally used for task designation, but combined with meticulously developed personality phrases from her old Miss Nanny chip, as well as a generous contribution from longtime friend and Sanctuary resident Codsworth. The result was a fully sentient program with cognitive logic-weighing abilities as well as the capability for emotional leanings, but catered to the limited brain of earlier model synths that retained their servicing nature. Curie didn't want anyone to be as lost as she initially was when she made the jump from robot all the way to Gen 3 synth, and she most definitely didn't want another 'raider at Libertalia.'
"Doctor Curie."
"Ah! Oh, bonjour, Director." Curie replied, slightly startled.
"How's your work treating you?"
"Well, as you have probably observed just now, this code unit has chosen to revert back to its original designation... for the third time."
" Huh." Handy replies, somewhat confused but a bit interested as well. "Is this a unique case?"
"The average retaining rate is at 1.79 tries per code unit, but this code has broken three, a record."
"And how do you feel about that?"
"I'm... confused. Usually the synths love the idea of being a 'playground buddy' or restaurateur, most cases involve uncertainty, but the variables are enough to make them want to cherish the opportunity to take pleasure in something." She looked at the data chip in her hand in disappointment. "I guess this code is suicidal."
"Suicidal- what?" Handy exclaims, a bit shocked at the word choice.
"Senile?"
"Uh, no."
"Flummoxed?"
"Uhh..."
"Higgledy-piggledy?"
What is she on about, Handy thought. "I was gonna go with 'confused' but I suppose that works."
"Hahhh..." Curie sighs, a bit lost for words and confused at the next possible course of action.
"I'm sure you'll come up with something, Curie. You always do. Perhaps a bit of respite will refuel your imagination."
"I suppose you are correct, Director. I shall retire to my quarters. Unless there's something else that requires my attention."
"None coming from me. You may be dismissed, Doctor. Try not to pull too many brain muscles."
"I don't see how that is physically possible- ah, you jest! Ahaha, silly me."
Handy smiled and waved Curie away as she stretched and yawned into the pristine hallway. For once in the Director's packed schedule, he had a moment of pause. He usually liked to take those rare moments to check up on his people, see how morale was doing. Though now, he couldn't stop thinking about his decision to reach out to the Brotherhood. Just meet up with the people whose comrades you nuked, yeah; what could go wrong? Well, it did go better than expected. Definitely wasn't expecting Elder Lyons to offer dinner after I told them everything... ended rather well, best not dwell on it.
"Maybe some music would help." Handy said, as he tuned his Pip-Boy to Diamond City Radio.
"And let's test this out."
With a push of a few buttons, Handy manages to wirelessly connect his Pip-Boy to the PA system of the facility he was currently in; adding music to the room.
"Nice." Handy whispers to himself, one of his favorites was on: Moonlight Serenade as sung by Frank Sinatra.
Handy started silently singing to himself, happy thoughts filling his headspace. The synth workers didn't seem to mind. He remembered his time on army band night when he sang this very song, finally flexing his hidden talent as a singer when originally he was just pushed to do it by his squadmates as a joke.
" And I sing you a song in the moonlight,
A love song, my darling, a moonlight serenade"
"Wait..."
The word Darling stuck to his head; suddenly remembering the coldness of that one mercenary's gaze, Handy's fingers began to scratch his palms. Hmm... What's her deal? Handy shut the music off and put a finger to his ear as curiosity got the better of him.
"X6, are you free?"
"Yes, Director. What do you need?"
"Meet me here in Artificial Intelligence."
"X6, give me your thoughts on our encounter with the Brotherhood."
"They were anxious, Director. They were meeting with the organization that eliminated most of their newly-attained assets. Despite that, I observed that you handled yourself quite well. Elder Lyons' suggestion to have dinner was quite a welcome surprise."
"I know that. Give me your thoughts on that mercenary; Darling."
"Her initial reaction was a variable I should have considered."
"You followed orders, it's fine."
"From that instant, her skill with firearms was noteworthy, as I'm sure you've told her during the dinner. On that note, I have some thoughts on her story."
"Let's hear it."
"Her claims about her history were true, but some of her information scored with a 37% in honesty. With documentation being so poor in the wasteland, it is hard to ascertain."
"I figured. What part was she lying about?"
"She claimed that her friend scavenged around in Texas A&M University. According to pre-war databases, Texas A&M University had a Law campus but I don't think she was completely aware of that. That aside, her friend was not a scavenger."
"Those were the lies?"
"Yes, Director."
"Huh." Handy said, crossing his arms and resting his chin on his fingers, playing with the facial hair below his lip. "Don't you think that would be an odd thing to lie about?"
"I agree. Unfortunately, with such vague words and claims, I cannot say for certain what it is she's trying to hide. Her choices of words were intentionally vague, but true to a certain extent. She only lied about seemingly innocuous details; her body language throughout the exchange was rather calm and confident. That tells me she is a very experienced liar."
Handy paced back and forth, with X6-88 barely moving his eyes to match the Director's gait.
"I'm sure you caught her making a sign of the cross before her meal." Handy piped up, feeling he was onto something. X6 pondered, accessing information in the Institute's database, information that he could readily access as long as he was physically in the Institute.
"Yes, Director. But while organized religion as a whole has lost its footing around the world, it is likely that generations of families felt the need to preserve some of their traditions and practices. With her originating from a formerly conservative-Christian region such as the Texas Commonwealth, it is possible that her ancestors made it a point to keep that practice."
"Damn..." Handy dropped his arms quickly, losing his train of thought but quickly moving to a new one. "News about the Institute spread pretty far when I formally announced our presence and intentions to the public. Do you think it's possible she's a spy from the West Coast? The South?"
"Spies are trained to gather information and blend in. Disguising as a mercenary would be an extremely risky and ill-advised choice for a spy, even more so than masking as a travelling trader. The skill she showed in Quincy and in her encounter with you goes beyond espionage and subterfuge. I can safely say that her abilities are far beyond that of a typical wasteland mercenary; even more so than Kellogg."
"Some sort of special forces? Black-ops? Only large organizations ever practice that sort of training."
"Apologies, Director, but I cannot make a claim with any certainty."
Handy scratched his face in light frustration. He went through a quick breathing exercise to calm himself down. Hmmm . He was running out of ideas, but he wasn't about to give up so easily. Without anything better to do, he went with his gut.
"X6, let's move."
"Is there a development you wish to address?"
"We're pulling up records… from Vault 111." Handy said as he made his way out of the room. "And call P.A.M. We're gonna need her."
The trio of Handy, X6, and now P.A.M made their way through the Institute to the Director's quarters, where Handy kept a terminal that had every significant bit of data uploaded to it. One day I'll need a bigger computer, he thought as he unlocked the three-key security gate and scrolled through endless bits of newer information to a folder named "VAULT 111 SWEEP."
The Director opened it while his subjects stood patiently behind him. He scrolled through protocols and log folders and eventually came to a folder named "SUBJECTS." The pain of realizing the Vault's reality had long faded away, and the tragedy that became of it was nothing but a sad reminder that came back in greater force to haunt Handy every so often, but today, it was a simple folder in a terminal that contained what he needed.
"What was her name again?" Handy asked.
"Aside from her codename, I heard Elder Lyons refer to her as 'Abby' shortly after she opened fire on you."
"Hmmm..." Handy hummed. "Abby; Abigail? Mabel? Gabrielle? Elizabeth? Annabelle...
As the names loaded, they went in this order:
Pod B1: Mr. DiPietro
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of death: Asphyxiation due to life support failure.
Pod B2: Cindy Cofran
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of death: Asphyxiation due to life support failure.
Pod B3: Mrs. Whitfield
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of death: Asphyxiation due to life support failure.
Pod B4: Mrs. Cofran
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of death: Asphyxiation due to life support failure.
Pod B5: Mr. Whitfield
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of death: Asphyxiation due to life support failure.
Handy was growing impatient, but he waited until he saw something.
Pod C6: Mr. Galeone
Occupant status: Unknown. - Pod Door Manual Override Engaged/Remote Override Engaged.
Pod C7: Mrs. Galeone and Shaun (infant)
Occupant status: Unknown. - Pod Door Manual Override Engaged/Remote Override Engaged.
Pod C8: Mr. Russell
Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of death: Asphyxiation due to life support failure.
"Wh- that's it? X6, do we have access to earlier versions?"
"I believe so, sir. If you would enter the command-"
"Could you enter it for me? I have a feeling things would go a lot faster with you in this seat."
"Of course, sir."
X6 sat down on Handy's vacated chair and entered a few commands on the terminal that initially did nothing, but after a final command he was able to access the very lengthy revision history on the entries.
"Scroll down to subject entries dated to 2077."
X6 held down a button that went through the entries faster than the eye could see, and eventually stopped right smack on a revision named '[8/23/2077'] Subjects.' At first glance, all the entries contained the same names except they weren't all dead, but there was a discrepancy.
Pod C1: Abigail Bishop
Occupant status: Alive
"Huh." said Handy as the previously absent name was made visible. "Who in- filter for all revisions under 'Pod C1' and see what we get."
X6 typed in some more commands effortlessly, apparently terminal manipulation was a part of Courser infiltration training. The page reloaded with a whole list of results flashed on screen. This time it was much easier to decipher.
…
[10/25/2287] Empty
[10/24/2287] Empty
[10/23/2287] Empty
[10/22/2287] Empty
…
"Nothing. October 23, that's when I exited the vault, and there's nothing there. Scroll to 2227, that's when Shaun was kidnapped."
A bit of a scroll later and it stayed the same: 'Empty.'
"Nothing… not even a death. Filter keywords 'Abigail Bishop.'"
There was only one entry, the same one from 2077.
"X6… filter for keyword 'error' in the Subjects folder."
Only one result appeared.
[11/14/2287] Pod C1: Error.
Handy took a step back, wide-eyed and arms frozen.
"P.A.M, diagnostic analysis please…"
P.A.M's hands spun and her torso swiveled as she spit her fortune-telling measurements. "Pod C1 status as of year 2077, Abigail Bishop, Alive. Pod C1 status since year 2077, Empty. Until 2287; unknown error occurred. System malfunction probability: 14%. Manual override probability: 83.2%. Other causes: 0.8%."
"You're aware of what this implies, Director?" X6 chimed in, still as cold as ever despite the gravity of the discovery.
"Yeah... I'm not the sole survivor anymore." Handy looked down briefly, still in shock. What the hell...
"Shaun was the one who brought me out of the ice; only one with the power to do it. Unless some wastelander wanted to release some pre-war relic into the Commonwealth, leaving someone else alive and waking her up later was definitely intentional."
Handy was racking his brain for any sort of conclusion that would make any semblance of sense. Shaun must've had a reason. Why is most of her history here wiped? Try as he did, Handy just couldn't come up with an answer. He then moved on to something else.
"Do the records give any hint to what she did before being frozen in the Vault?" X6 then started to blaze through Abby's records.
"All of this seems surprisingly ordinary, Director; Abigail Bishop, born February 10, 2043 in Texarkana, Texas Commonwealth to Clayton Callaghan and Danielle Bishop. Along with her mother, she moved to San Antonio in 2046 following her parents' separation due to her father suddenly joining the military."
"Damn." Handy whispered to himself. "The amount of data Vault-Tec had on us was terrifying... Well except for my service records but still..." Handy remarked.
"Her mother was seventeen when she was born, her father was twenty. Perhaps she moved to find more opportunities?" X6 went through more data. "Her mother applied for college as soon as they moved and managed to graduate in 2049."
A mother's love... Handy thought to himself wistfully. "Focus on our vault dweller."
"She finished elementary and high school in Austin. I suppose it is to be noted that she graduated high school at the top of her class. It seems that her academic excellence landed her in Yale University with a scholarship."
"Ivy League scholarship, huh."
"Following that though, Vault-Tec's information seems to be lacking. Nothing else appears in her database; nothing more about college other than entering, nothing about possible employment or relocation. Nothing until her admittance into Vault 111."
" Absolutely nothing?" Handy says in surprise.
"Affirmative."
"I'm sensing a bit of a pattern here; most of her life is documented until college, where everything up until Vault 111 is empty. We find her out to be a Vault resident where everything except her entering is wiped." Handy, finally with a confident train of thought, pushes through.
"Huge gap between college and the Vault... Her skillset... P.A.M?" The robot runs its calculations once more.
"Processing new variables... Abigail Bishop gap history, probability of deficient Vault-Tec systems: 7.25%. Probability of purposeful omission by the Vault-Tec Corporation: 2.74%. Probability of external variables: 90.01%."
"Bingo." Handy claps his hands together. Somehow, the inconclusive results are the biggest show of certainty. "Looks like I'm not the only one with a hidden service record."
"Director, during your time in the United States Army, were you made aware of any government operations that could've been responsible for Ms. Bishop's incomplete records?"
"Absolutely not. That just means the government did their job perfectly. Cases like Ms. Bishop's aren't new to the realm of war." Handy puffed heavily, remembering the trials and brutal realizations of the past.
"The Army was expected to uphold a certain standard of dignity and the American way . Propaganda for the people and all, but that didn't stop the typical happenings of war; no amount of conventions are gonna prevent collateral damage, torture, genocide, and what have you. However, the government always employed people like Ms. Bishop, if our supposition is correct: people who weren't restricted by those expectations of legality or morality. What you heard about in Quincy, what you saw during our meeting with her, and whatever other rumors you've heard of her are just the tip of the iceberg. After all, they were trained to do what the Army wasn't 'allowed' to do."
" Allowed , Director?"
"Espionage, subterfuge, sabotage, assassination, infiltration, black-ops... torture... you name it. I was decorated for my feats on the field with a fancy ceremony. These people, their job is to make sure their names are never remembered."
"An extremely dangerous adversary, and in the case of Ms. Bishop, also a possible liability to the NEA."
"Dangerous? Yes. Liability? I'm not so sure."
"What makes you think so, Director?"
"Ms. Bishop looks... tired." Handy couldn't help but sympathize as he always put himself in others' shoes.. What the hell did they make you do?
"..."
"And that's a look I'm all too familiar with." Handy looked down, eyes full of bitterness. "All these years, it never changes."
A flash on Handy's Pip-Boy alerted him to a settlement General Garvey marked on his map with the notification "Judicial dispute, hostage situation, perpetrator demanded audience with Director."
"Excuse me X6, P.A.M. Duty calls."
"Of course, Director." X6 stood up and Handy prepped a button to relay out of the Institute. The mystery solved only gave him more questions, but he was a man of the people first.
"Does this change anything for parade day?" asked X6-88.
"This changes nothing…for now. Good day."
"Good day sir."