Let every man be master of his time.
Where its factories were utilitarian to the nth degree and its soon to open Galleria discussed almost exclusively as overly ambitious, the General Atomics International Global Headquarters was housed in one of the most inconspicuous skyscrapers dotting the visage of Boston, Massachusetts, from the air. The only signifier of its presence was the company name and logo on the side of the building, lit up for all to see.
The offices themselves were, then, unsurprisingly caught somewhere in between clinical utilitarianism and conspicuously ambitious automation.
Well used to going from place to place at the drop of a pin, United States Army General Constantine Albert Chase barely registered the difference between the skyline of Boston slipping out from beneath the clouds as his plane landed and the blurring of other cars and pedestrians and building after building passing by from in the back of a nondescript black car with government licence plates. The closer he got to his destination, two others were as well. Having arrived later than the General but by his own, privately owned jet, Robert Edwin House met his driver on the tarmac; his two bags for the short, three day business trip were loaded into the trunk and, no sooner than was he in the car and on the way to the meeting, he picked up a phone call with a faint smile. Much more irritated, much more in a rush, and taking much more notice of her surroundings, Dr. Anna Sonny Karim took out one of her wireless earbuds and slipped it back into the case in her coat pockets. On one shoulder was her workbag and on the other her purse; her thick, curly red hair peeking out from under her hat still covered in snow. She scowled at each stop the train made, her eyes narrowly observing everyone she could getting on and off. Her station seeming to get no nearer, she took her mobile out of her pocket and flicked off the music and switched to the news radio.
"…Boston facing another record breaking winter with temperatures to continue to stay well below negative twenty…"
Dr. Karim glanced out the window as the train pulled into another stop. Hawes Street.
Three more to go.
She switched channels.
"…Starting this fine Wednesday morning off with the latest news. It is currently 8:22 in the morning here in the studio on the fifth of February, 2076. Waiting for the NASDAQ and NYSE to open in just over an hour, the trends we've seen the last three weeks are expected to continue. RobCo Industries have bounced back from a dip in value in the last month and a half of 2075…"
The train screeched to a halt again. Dr. Karim frowned at the lack of station in sight from the window and switched channels again.
"…Accusations towards the West-Tek Corporation levied in court by the United States Human Rights Council continue to become more and more salient, with the organisation claiming to have copies of otherwise classified and/or sensitive information from which they base their accusations against West-Tek of using prison detainees and illegal immigrants as human test subjects for weapons testing…"
The train began moving again; a short melodic pitter patter rang out in her ear and Dr. Karim took her mobile out of her pocket and, albeit swearing lightly under her breath, answered the call coming into her phone.
"If the damn T doesn't stop on the tracks again, I should be at the office in fifteen, Riggs. I sure as hell won't be as early as I'd like, but I won't be late either."
"The weather is nothing short of atrocious today, Dr. Karim. I'm sure no one will be cross with you for being late."
"House will be. I assume he's still coming?"
"According to General Rawlings, House is in his car and on the way to the office."
"Is Adler in as well?"
"Yes, as is Dr. Dias."
"At least you knew I would ask."
"If House is coming in to see and be debriefed on that particular project, of course Dr. Dias will be here. She is overseeing it for his company after all."
Dr. Karim let out a brief laugh. "At least she's more than competent and doesn't get in anyone's way. We could have a much worse outside director on the team. I think I'd kill myself if Adler were ever put above me professionally."
"I might too. Also, you may see General Chase at some point today as well, Dr. Karim."
"They've let him out of whatever cage they keep him in at the Pentagon, then?"
"Say that to him, please."
"If I could without running the risk of losing my job, I might," A sigh of relief left her when she saw the station the train was pulling into. "I'm getting off the T in a minute. If House arrives before I do, please give him a good reason for my tardiness."
"You're not going to be late, Dr. Karim."
"Late by my standards, and I'll be damned if Dias hasn't told him all of our little habits. I've got to go. If I don't make it, please assume I've frozen to death."
The ding of the train doors opening ringing out, Dr. Anna Karim dropped her mobile back into her coat pocket nearly the second she hung up the call. Clenching her work bag and purse close to herself, she all but leapt off the train and onto the platform, tearing her way into the station. She slammed her rail card onto the scanner and ran through the gates the second they opened, not bothering to care that she shoved her rail card in front of her work ID badge on her lanyard. In much less of a rush at the office, Dr. Gregory Adler impatiently waited for the coffee in the French press to finish brewing; three hours of sleep and a nervous feeling about the CEO of one of the largest companies in the world coming to see the progress on a major project left him desperate for even a little bit of focus. Sat nearby in the senior staff break room, Dr. Dorothea Dias scrolled through the files on the project on her laptop, checking every few minutes that her ID was still firmly inserted into the reader connected to her laptop. Pulling her dark hair and its fine streaks of grey tighter into a neat, high ponytail, her eyes flicked up over the top of her laptop at the shadow of movement entering the room. No sooner than she recognised the person entering did she return back to her work, adjusting her thick rimmed glasses and pursing her lips whilst she did so.
Realising someone had joined them almost a minute later than Dr. Dias, Dr. Gregory Adler swiftly set down his coffee as he finished pouring it and stood up a little straighter before offering a cup to the man who entered. The tall and unusually formally dressed man waved him off, gesturing to the takeaway cup of iced coffee in one of his hands, his mobile phone in the other. Dr. Dias paid him no mind even when he sat down across from her, and paid Dr. Adler no mind, either, when he offered to pour her a cup of coffee as well. Some of us don't need to drink disgusting beverages to focus and stay awake, Greg, but I certainly won't be sharing my amphetamines with you. Her fingers hovered over the trackpad of her laptop when she received one pop up and then another from her email, but she dismissed them upon registering the senders. Hearing the sloshing of ice against the plastic of the takeaway cup as her coworker absentmindedly twirled the straw, she gritted her teeth while trying not to let her annoyance become visible in her countenance. When it stopped, she barely held back from letting out a sigh of relief. She reached for her workbag upon hearing the incessant buzzing of her mobile, one hand fishing through her bag for it and the other still scrolling through the files on her laptop screen on the trackpad. Her hand grasped around her mobile and flicked it to silent, only for it to fall into her lap when her coworker set something else on the table.
"House will be here soon, as will General Chase and General Rawlings. With all due respect, Bertram, I don't think doughnuts will distract them – but, in particular, House – from the slowing progress on the 'robobrain,' a project, might I add, you should cough up a better name for."
"Would I still be the Dr. Bertram Larson Riggs if I didn't give such an advanced project a purely utilitarian name?" He laughed. "They're a peace offering, Dr. Dias. America runs on Dunkin, as you know. I thought you might want one."
She frowned. "I would have preferred Slocum Joe's."
"Just be glad he didn't bring you a Starbucks cake doughnut," Adler said with a teasing note to his voice he dropped only seconds later. "House isn't going to fire you because the project is lagging and the brain specimens we have to work with are piss poor animal brains. Technically, it's not even a RobCo project."
"The funding for it is coming, by thirty percent, from RobCo, and I would not be here if it were not, Greg. If you're offering yourself as a scapegoat," She barely glanced at him when he walked over to stand behind Riggs. "Then you'll be quite useful. Dr. Karim, I imagine, would agree, or were you not the one who forgot –"
"That it's impossible to even consider how a version scaled down significantly enough to be no larger than the average iRobot home vacuum would work before we have a working prototype at the current dimensions we're working at?"
Dr. Dias raised an eyebrow, closing the screen of her laptop to closely eye the woman still dusting snow off herself whilst entering the room.
"Correct again, Dr. Karim," She said with no amusement in her voice or countenance. "Did you attempt to drive to work today and in the process crash your vehicle in a snowdrift?"
"I took the T, as usual," Karim irritably replied, briefly setting down her purse and workbag to untie and hang up her coat and hat. "It's not my fault that the weather decided to be especially disgusting today."
"Well, help yourself to one of Dr. Riggs' doughnuts. Adler certainly doesn't need any, not if he wants to be able to run the Boston Marathon in a few months, and the idea of eating any of Riggs' selection is revolting to me," She gave a faint nod of approval when Karim shook her head. "Wise choice. Better to stay alert. The very last thing you want is for General Rawlings or, especially, House to catch you in a moment of repose."
"Seeing as General Rawlings is waiting downstairs at reception and, I suspect, I passed House's car, I'm inclined to agree," She sighed, attempting to get the last hints of snow out of her hair. "And, considering the task we've been given, I doubt they expect us to have a perfect, fully working prototype after only eight months of work."
"You underestimate how demanding House is," Dias warned her, pulling her ID badge out of the reader and back into her lanyard. "Though I doubt the military will be particularly harsh, seeing as they aren't used to developing unprecedented technological advancements seemingly on command."
"You won't catch me admitting it to the smug son of a bitch's face, but House is a goddamn genius that has stood on the cutting edge of technology since he got his first degree at sixteen," Adler swore under his breath. "I don't know why he never went for a doctorate. He could have gotten one by the time he was twenty two if he'd wanted, I guarantee you. If he expects us all to be as brilliant as him, then he's going to be sorely disappointed."
"Do yourself a favour and repeat none of that to anyone," Dias told him, sending him a pointed look when he did not begin to follow her, Karim, and Riggs out of the room. "And, as the last one out, lock up, unless you want some seventeen year old intern sent to clean the place guzzling down whatever is left in your French press."
Adler let out a nervous laugh but quickly began to rummage through the pockets of his pants to ensure he still had both his ID badge and his keychain. Hearing her, Karim, and Riggs already starting down the stairs, he nearly ran out of the room and slammed the door shut, hastily locking it up and dropping his keys back into his pocket. Reaching his coworkers before they stepped into the lift at the bottom of the stairs up to the senior staff lounge, Adler stiffly squared his shoulders and slowed his breathing when he stepped into the lift. The second the doors closed and the descent began, he tried to push the anxiety out of his mind. Hard not to be anxious when you know Robert Edwin House is going to be playing a game of cat and mouse with your damn job. As anxious but more tired, Karim tried not to yawn and silently cursed herself for not going to sleep earlier or, at the very least, not stopping for a few shots of espresso. Though she would never admit it either, Dias was tired herself. Until this project reaps any form of tangible results, it would be ludicrous to present my addition to the Semiautonomous Immobile Weapon Platform research but, nevertheless, my Encephalon Extraction Programme is… The bell of the lift ringing out and announcing their arrival at reception, Dias pushed herself past Adler, Karim, and Riggs and sauntered towards where, impatiently looking through his mobile, General Ernest Rawlings was waiting. The General looked up upon hearing the sounds of movement, and gave Dias and Riggs a short nod of acknowledgement. Hearing the bell of the lift at the other end of reception ring out, he turned around and faintly smiled upon seeing the man stepping out of it.
Robert Edwin House emerged from the lift put together as ever; a faint smirk passed over his face for a mere few seconds when Adler stiffened. An air of smugness in his face and voice, Riggs greeted the man with a far firmer handshake than necessary and a glib overview of the project. Scowling unrelentingly at him when he turned around, Dr. Dias and Dr. Adler discretely stepped on each of his feet when they were sure House and General Rawlings were not watching. Riggs stiffened and bit down hard on his tongue, his fists clenching. Barely taking notice of her colleagues, Dr. Karim politely greeted the General and House; the two men doing the same in kind. The hum of a few Mister Handy units in the background and the chatter of a few of their coworkers pausing to stare at House and, to a lesser extent, the General were the only sounds of normalcy against the painful awareness of the unspoken but unwavering appraisal of them by House in particular. Taking a glance at his mobile, House frowned. When the bell of the lift rang out and he saw who stepped out of it, his frown only deepened, this time towards the frassled and nervous looking woman who stepped out, clutching a briefcase and overly filled purse to her chest, still covered in a decent layer of snow.
"Dr. Asante," House said when she approached. "When did I tell you to arrive today?"
"Nine fifteen in the morning," She said, struggling to catch her breath as though she had been running. "I apologise, sir. The T was –"
"Do not be late again," He coldly told her. "You're certainly not making a good first impression on your new coworkers, all of whom, might I add, were early."
"Coworkers?" Adler said, pushing past Dias, Karim, and Riggs. "I'm sorry, but who even is she?"
"Dr. Kara Asante," House told him, beckoning the others over. "She graduated at the top of her class at Caltech just two years ago, having written her doctoral thesis on neurobiology and robotics. Her work was brought to my attention by General Rawlings."
"Dr. Asante will be joining your team," The General said, sharing a brief look with House before beginning to walk with them past reception. "I received a report from Dr. Dias that indicated you're struggling to make sufficient headway in the endeavour. That must change."
Adler snapped his head towards Dias, his hands clenching into fists.
"You have asked us to do the improbable!" He hissed when they approached the lift to the secure, locked upper levels. "Using living brains as a central processor for a robot! Do you not realise how difficult it has been to prevent brain death in the transplantation process?"
"Keep your voice down, Dr. Adler, for God's sake," Karim said sharply, thoroughly scowling at him when the General scanned his ID and the doors to the lift opened. "The task," She said, looking between the General and House much more calmly. "Is difficult, but I have a solution. Dr. Dias and I have discussed it extensively, but thought it best to wait until we could propose our solution in person."
"Partially," Dias said. "Because it would be questionable in the eyes of the law and, frankly, something of a scandal if it were to get out."
The doors to the lift closed and it began its ascent. House raised an eyebrow.
"In what way, Dr. Dias?"
A thin smile graced her lips. "Dr. Karim and I are of the belief that the reason for the project's lack of movement is because of the type of brain we are using, not our methodology. The Sierra Army Depot have been making no progress, either and they are – supposedly – already successful in the creation of a cybernetic brain intended for use in our – as Dr. Riggs calls them – 'robobrains.' Thus, it seems to be not the methodology and design of the robot behind our lack of results, but the type of brain we are using."
"We need to use the most powerful, organic central processor there is," Karim went on. "And that is, of course, the human brain."
Asante gagged. The bell of the lift rang out, and the doors opened.
"Interesting theory," House said, careful to keep his voice completely neutral. "And where are you suggesting we acquire a living human brain to test this theory? I assume none of you are willing to take the risk."
"At this moment, no, we're not," Riggs said, pausing to clear his throat as they exited the lift and began down the corridor towards a conference room. "Which is where I believe you, General Rawlings, come in," He turned towards the man. "I don't think it will be particularly difficult to acquire subjects among the prison population, now would it?"
Rawlings considered that. "From military prisons, no. Civilian prisons, yes, although I imagine it would be easier if we were to take them from death row."
"Even if you can easily acquire and remove the brain from human subjects, the chances of a human brain being more resistant to the procedure than an animal brain are high," House said, looking sharply over the five scientists. "Do you even have the removal procedure standardised? Because, if not, I fail to see how using human test subjects will help when you can't even guarantee the extraction of a living brain."
"The good news, Mister House, is we do have the process streamlined," Karim said, scanning into and keeping the doors to the conference room open for him, the General, and her coworkers. "Which is how Dr. Dias and I came to the conclusion that we need to adjust the angle from which we approach this line of research."
"Precisely," Dias said, her heels clicking in short succession as she walked towards the computer terminal attached to the room's large monitor. "I know both you and the General are on a tight schedule – it was General Chase who arrived shortly before you, was it not, House? I did hear him request to speak with Dr. Bloomfeld, after all – so I will make this to the point."
"Observant as ever, Dr. Dias," General Rawlings remarked, sitting down in between House and Karim, with Asante, Adler, and Riggs across from them. "And, yes, it was. He requested you by name to review some of our…impending military projects. I hope it is not any trouble that I gave him your personal and your business contact information."
"None at all," Dias said, removing a USB drive from the pocket of her blazer and plugging it into the side of the computer terminal. "I can give you and Mister House a copy of the information we're presenting you with by the end of the day if need be. Now, of course…"
The screen of the monitor lit up, resting on the home screen; bearing the company logo and its name – General Atomics International. Dr. Dias clicked her tongue when the computer terminal prompted her to enter the security keys to access the information stored on the USB drive. Impatience dull against the side of her head, her fingers curled over the keyboard with her perfectly done French nails clicking almost as sharply as the keys of the keyboard. When the security keys were accepted, she pressed her lips into a sharp, thin line and narrowed her eyes in focus. If General Chase wants to speak with me, then I cannot fail to persuade House and Rawlings. Of course I won't. Anna and I have discussed this for weeks, been careful to not let anyone but Riggs know about the proposal because God knows Adler would have either reacted badly to the idea, taken credit for it, or both. The presentation loading, Dias glanced between it on the computer and it on the monitor. She swept her clicker up with one sleek motion and snapped her fingers at Karim, who primly stood up and walked over to stand opposite her in front of the monitor.
"The first thing to understand about the live extraction of a brain from any specimen is, to do so without inducing brain death and physical degeneration, it requires the specimen to remain alive during the procedure. That, unsurprisingly, was where we had much of our difficulty in the first six months of work."
"We have – largely – standardised the process of brain removal and can do it with the aid of a machine for precision," Karim continued. "The reason for the struggle to make progress since then comes – in plain speak – as a result of the limited nature of the under evolved brain of any primate specimen other than human. While it may present us with further difficulties with respect to programming the robot to be devoid of personality and ensure utter compliance, there is every reason to believe we can do so."
"As for the process of extracting the brain whilst keeping the specimen alive," Dias smiled and clicked to the next slide. "I'll give you the overview, but we also can show you how it is done. To start with, the host of the donor brain is given a sedative – though not one strong enough to render them unconscious so it is easier to monitor continued brain life and activity – similar in both its chemical composition and manner of delivery as those used in executions using the lethal injection method."
"The first part of the procedure is remarkably similar to administering the death penalty," Karim added, sharing an almost amused look with Dr. Dias. "The host is given the sedative to make them more cooperative, at which point they are strapped to the operating table. When the host is secured, we administer the second drug – the paralysing agent – that makes it so they cannot resist when the procedure becomes…fully invasive."
"Which prevents injury during the process," Dias said, clicking to the next slide and stepping, briefly, over to the computer terminal to play the video. "Observe."
"The host in this case is, of course, a female Pongo pygmaeus. We have also conducted this procedure with males of the same species, and both males and females of the species Pan troglodytes and Ateles fusciceps. In this specific example, the specimen was in above average physical health – a requirement for any host to be in to ensure it does not die during the procedure – and the smartest the Smithsonian had to offer us," Karim said, pausing to watch the technician administer the first injection. "The host's vitals were stable to continue with the procedure both before and after the second injection was administered. As you can see…"
"What the machine is doing here, now the host is primed for harvesting," Dias said, fast forwarding through some of the footage. "Is, and please look closely at both sides of the screen, severing all connexions between the spinal cord and the rest of the body. Once this is successfully completed, the process of extracting the brain and the spinal cord together can begin."
"That process begins with shaving the hair off of the host's head, from which some is kept and logged as a DNA identifier. After, with cleaner access, the flesh around the head is removed to give access to the skull," Karim said, pausing briefly when Asante looked visibly disturbed. "From there, the skull is largely removed, and the brain – the spinal cord still attached – is extracted and immediately transferred into a container of biomedical gel to keep the brain from degenerating. The –"
Karim and Dias both paused when Asante stood up and ran towards the door, barely reaching the trash bin by it before she puked. House raised an eyebrow, looking between her, Dias, and Karim first before shifting to observe Adler, Riggs, and Rawlings. For her part, Dr. Dorothea Dias looked merely annoyed, muttering something to herself under her breath in her native French. Tiredness gnawing through her still, Dr. Anna Karim sighed, grimacing when Dr. Asante continued retching. Refusing to look at any of them, Dr. Gregory Adler kept himself sat stiffly and near motionlessly. This is precisely why no one should have been added to this project without my direct knowledge and approval! Though the way Anna and Dorothea can remove themselves from feeling any discomfort with it is… Masking his own discomfort with a series of coughs, General Ernest Rawlings kept his countenance perfectly neutral, though every so often he sent a pitying glance towards Dr. Asante. Himself unfazed the same as Dr. Karim and Dr. Dias, Dr. Bertram Riggs waited a minute before standing up and walking over to help Dr. Asante back to her feet, offering her a handkerchief when she finished retching and looked up, embarrassment flooding, it seemed, her entire body from her face to her shaking hands.
"I suppose we'll save the rest of the video for the General and Mister House, then," Dias voice coldly broke the silence as she went back to the computer terminal to close out of the video and continue the presentation. "I will, however, give you the benefit of the doubt, Dr. Asante. There has been a rather nasty run of the flu this year. Or, perhaps given the ring on your left finger, you're expecting?"
Asante shook her head. "I think," She said, managing a weak smile. "My wife would have quite a bit of an issue with you making that assumption, as it rests on me cheating on her."
"Apologies to you and your wife, then. Nevertheless," Dias' heels clicked sharply against the floor again as she returned to the monitor and clicked to the next slide. "We have gotten the efficacy of the procedure to above eighty percent; that is, to say, the procedure of extracting and transferring the brain without destroying or damaging it."
"I'd like to review it with General Rawlings to ensure that assertion is correct, Dr. Dias, but, if so, am I correct in assuming it was after that point you, Dr. Riggs, Dr. Karim, and Dr. Adler discovered the deficiency of the brains of the non-human hosts?" House faintly smiled when she and Karim nodded. "If you have, in fact, gotten the procedure to that threshold of efficacy, then I suspect the military will approve. I do, however, still have some concerns."
"As expected," Karim said.
"The first of which is that a human brain will all but certainly be resistant to a process of the procedure you haven't yet been, I assume, able to test, which is the removal of memory and, with it, personality, a feat I doubt has ever been conducted before, let alone successfully," House said, glancing between her, Dias, Riggs, and the General. "If that's the case, I would be concerned that the robots could – in the worst case – retain their sense of self and, as a result, grow insane and ergo useless."
"That shouldn't be an issue," Karim smoothly replied. "We're in the process of developing neural inhibitors as part of post-processing alongside a conditioning protocol to remove and ensure the inability of the original personality to persist. It is, of course, mostly theory at the moment, but we are confident in our ability to produce tangible results given a proper specimen."
"I'll get that approved by the end of the month, Dr. Karim," General Rawlings said before House could object. "I have full confidence in you and your team."
House frowned but, taking a look at the time on his watch, said nothing.
"I have a meeting with General Chase and Dr. Bloomfeld in ten minutes," He said, standing up and looking over all of them. "General Rawlings, I believe you are wanted as well."
"That I am," He said with a nervous laugh when House finished shaking hands with the research team. "I apologise for the sudden departure, but –"
"No need, General," Riggs said politely. "I'm certain myself, Dr. Dias, Dr. Karim, and Dr. Adler can finish briefing and getting Dr. Asante acquainted with the office on our own. The laboratories too, of course, though I believe the weather has condemned that for another day."
"Yes, I would tend to agree," Rawlings said, stiffening when he saw House impatiently waiting for him in the corridor. "I will let you know when I get the military to send over a first few specimens."
With a final wave, the General slipped into the corridor, only for his calm demeanour to ebb away towards unease. The irritation in House's face did not abate when the two began to walk down the corridor and towards the lift again. Upon reaching it, the General scanned his ID and checked his mobile, confirming with General Chase that he was still waiting with Dr. Stanley Bloomfeld when he stepped in with House. When the doors closed and began its ascent, the General slipped his mobile back into his pocket, glancing up at the floor number shown on the lift continuing ascend.
"Even if the military approves and allocates more funding for the project using human brains as the specimen, I am going to carefully consider my continued funding," House said, a sharp edge in his voice when the General turned to him. "If I don't pull the plug, I may significantly reduce it depending on what Dr. Dias has to say about her view on the project's viability in the new direction. I have no interest in this becoming a money pit."
Rawlings raised an eyebrow. "You're worth two hundred billion dollars, House, you can stomach a loss of just one of those billions in the name of science."
"I have no qualms about spending money," House coldly replied. "What I object to is wasting it."
The elevator bell rang out. The doors opened, and the two men exited the lift and began making their way towards the conference room where the other two men were awaiting them.
"You might not believe some of the stranger stories you hear working for the military in the corporate sphere," Rawlings said, uncomfortable with the silence. "Or some of the things people lament. Dr. Riggs has always – albeit half heartedly – been disappointed in the fact General Atomics have never been able to buy out and secure the rights to Roomba development. The Mister Handy has made them more or less obsolete, of course, starting with their release back in '37."
"I'm well aware, seeing as the neural networks that make them as effective as they are now came from RobCo," House gave a slanted glance at the other man as they walked. "They first went on the market on the twelfth of August, 2054, as it happens."
"You remember the exact date?" Rawlings exclaimed in surprise.
"Yes," House said, a hint of amusement slipping into his voice. "It was a few days before my eldest son's first birthday."
"I see," Rawlings lightly chuckled. "How are your sons, by chance? Or their mother? Are you and Jane finally going to tie the knot? After twenty years and two children together, I'm surprised you haven't done it yet. Certainly with you having been raised by someone like Charlene."
House bristled. "I don't see how any part of my life beyond our work is of your concern. I'm here on business, and I insist upon leaving my personal life out of it. Do you understand, General?"
Silence fell again in answer. The General did his best to avoid meeting House's gaze. Reaching the room wherein General Chase and Dr. Bloomfeld were waiting, General Rawlings quickly buzzed in, hoping to keep House as far behind him as possible. When the doors shut behind them, he scanned his ID again to lock it, giving a short nod at his colleague and Dr. Bloomfeld before, after a few seconds of hesitation, sitting down at the table with them and House. The tiredness behind Dr. Stanley Bloomfeld's eyes a less than hopeful sign, General Rawlings took a look at his closest colleague. Ever the same, General Constantine Albert Chase had a few physical files with him alongside a laptop resting on the table in front of him; shut and attached to a cord charging it from a nearby socket on the wall. Another few moments passed with only the hum of electricity in the air.
"There's no avoiding the subject, so, I'll give it to you all straight," Dr. Bloomfeld said, breaking the quiet and momentarily startling Rawlings. "This is the biggest robot the world has ever seen, and we just haven't been able to find a power source small enough, and powerful enough, to get the damn thing running with all its systems online."
House frowned. "That's a promising way to start a discussion on the project, particularly considering we've been working on it for nearly four years."
"We're still making good progress in liberating Alaska regardless of how work has been on Liberty Prime – I would expect us to be able to fully liberate Alaska by the start of next year at the very latest – but it's still far from an ideal situation to be in," Chase opened one of the files with a sigh. "It was supposed to be complete about a year and a half ago."
"Speaking for myself and General Atomics, I feel I should remind you, with all due respect, General Chase, we did have most of Prime complete by that time," Bloomfeld said, though he soon hesitated. "I understand you've put a great deal of time into working on the project directly instead of leaving it to the researchers you chose for the project," He turned to House. "But I think we can both agree that the power systems on Prime are the problem."
"That's been the trouble with it from the start," House agreed, looking annoyed at the thought. "I can't say I've come across any other projects that have made me question my own skill in mathematics. Every calculation we run and every spec we adjust seems to do very little to fix any of the issues with getting Prime operational."
"Which is the most frustrating part of it," Bloomfeld shook his head. "The only other person I could think of as even having a shot at working out the kinks in the design and the maths of it was Dr. Stanislaus Braun, but he has become entirely unhelpful since he went into seclusion in one of Vault-Tec's facilities. I haven't been able to get into contact with him, and it sounds as though even those towards the top at Vault-Tec aren't entirely sure which Vault he's decided to lock himself in."
"I may ask Dr. Riggs to take a look at it, if you can get him cleared, Chase," Rawlings waited for the other man to nod. He turned back to Bloomfeld. "Dr. Riggs is the co-lead on the robobrain project with Dr. Dias, and he's one of the best roboticists in the country. I may send you a few others to potentially get on the project from our end at General Atomics, too, since one of the larger divisions in the company designed the nuclear reactors Vault-Tec and a handful of larger academic institutions use."
"It may very well come to that," Chase said, sounding resigned to the thought. "I'll keep you informed."
"What I'm hearing, then, is the problems with Prime remain the same," House waited for any of them to object. When none of them did, he continued. "It is capable of moving and navigating terrain, but cannot do so with its weapons systems online making it, for combat, nearly useless. Seeing as the government is providing the vast majority of the funding for the work on Prime, I'm not considering pulling back my funding on it at this time, but I am concerned we're coming close to reaching a dead end."
"The feeling is very much mutual. What's especially frustrating is some of the people I would have wanted working on the project had either already left the military by the time we began work on it or left shortly thereafter," Chase said, probing his forehead. "Had he not retired in the early 2060s and become a nearly mad, master doomsday prepper, Air Force Colonel Francis Morrow likely would have made solving some of these issues a hell of a lot easier. He won't ever agree to come back to the military – certainly not for a project as frustrating as this – but it's a damn shame nonetheless."
"Isn't Morrow the one who calls his Roomba 'Rovie' and kicked Vault-Tec off a military base he was commanding in Arizona back in '59?" Rawlings laughed. "I'll admit I admire how he did it and how he told the executives who wanted to give a political and corporate speech there that they could not use his servicemen as props. I also," The light heartedness quickly left his tone. "Agree that it's a shame we cannot get his help on Prime. As much of a paranoid and eccentric man as he's become, Colonel Morrow is still a genius in his own right."
"If he won't be any use for solving the issues with Prime's power management, there's no point in lamenting it," House said. "Can none of you honestly think of anyone – in the military or otherwise – who is both accessible and could help us work out the problems on Prime?"
"At the moment, no, but, if I do, you'll be among the first to know," Chase took off his hat to run a hand through his hair. "We need to get Prime running not even necessarily, at this point, to win the Alaskan campaign. I know our men can do it on their own. We need Prime running to send a message to China and Russia – one that the US is and remains a super power with all the military might that comes with it. I wholeheartedly believe a walking, talking, nuke tossing hero – as Prime is meant to be – is what some of our War weary soldiers need to have the fire to keep fighting like bats out of hell, and we need that now more than ever."
