The Aviator Awakening

The days passed uncounted, monotonous along with my training room’s unchanging white walls. I tried less frequently lately to guess if it was day or night outside the confines of my white-walled prison. What difference would it make? I slept when I was tired and worked when called by the agents during their comings and goings.

Thinking about anything beyond that only made my head hurt.

My training quarters buzzed to life outside my room within a room, indicating it was time again to be on call. I rolled out of bed, freshened up, then grabbed a new uniform cartridge. The same white jumpsuit as always flowed across my bare skin.

When I exited, Agents Ylea and Deore were waiting next to the console’s platform. They stood aside to allow me to pass. I made quick work of calling the system online and pulling up the displays for our AI project. The two operatives pulled their jackets tighter before joining me. They huddled claustrophobically close. Their breath clouds warmed my neck while they strained to watch the coding display over my shoulder as I delved into what had become my usual routine.

When I offered to replace the broken AI, this wasn’t what I had in mind. I don’t know why they wanted to glimpse my holo—I purposefully displayed identical projections across every panel in the ring around us to wordlessly urge them to back off. But they stayed peering over my shoulder. Bustling and bumping against me while rubbing their hands for warmth.

My concentration kept breaking. The displays blanked out again.

“I can’t tell if we’re getting anywhere,” Agent Deore grumbled, a guttural sound synced with his words, almost two different voices blended into one. “Hey, go back a few layers; I want to see what you did there.”

I glanced over at the simulator, wishing I could escape into its artificial world rather than stay here, struggling to grasp the concept of an AI core.

“Stop there,” Ylea pointed at the holo, which meant I had to remove myself from my merge enough to track her finger visually, slowing me down considerably. I eventually found the set of coding she’d intended to point out. Her face lit with a smile. “Yes, that’s the one. It’s not behaving in the usual way, but also not entirely wrong. What do you think, Deore?”

Agent Ylea’s hair was highlighted orange today. It changed colors nearly every time I saw her, always vivid and impossible to ignore. Not unlike her personality. She was pleasant enough. But also…invasive.

“It’s innovative,” Deore concurred.

I wanted space. They didn’t understand that the control console was already crowded by the mass of electricity building the system around us. It was noisy—now both audibly and inaudibly—and cold, and their bustled huddling wasn’t helping. But I couldn’t tell them off, or I’d appear uncooperative. I took a deep breath to clear my head and launched back into our primary algorithm series. The displays returned to running our sets of algorithms attempting to form a workable seed. I made a point, again, of providing the display feed across the entire platform ring in hopes that they would choose to huddle around one of them instead of continuing to breathe down my neck.

Agent Ylea nudged closer. Her bob-length hair brushed against an overly sensitive part of my neck, where my implant resided. I kept quiet and waited for her to lose interest.

“You said you don’t have experience with AIs?” she whispered.

“Not that I know of,” I answered.

“Are you sure?” Her green eyes were far too near for my comfort.

“Well, keep doing what you’re doing. This is interesting.”

I waited to see if there were any more questions or demands, and when the coast seemed clear, I attempted a deep dive into the console’s network to explore the AI seed. My biocircuit glowed as I entered my cybernetic escape. Until Agent Deore tapped my shoulder.

“Hey, Aviator, how are you doing it, anyway? This bears zero similarity to the usual coding process.”

I exited my dive. Again. “It’s hard to explain.”

Amara’s entrance was a welcomed distraction. She moved with a confident grace, owning the room. “Can I borrow the Aviator?” she asked.

I did a poor job of hiding my relief. I’d been waiting for a chance to ask her to redesign my console. I couldn’t put up with this for much longer.

“Sure,” Agent Ylea hopped off the platform, rainbow hair bouncing, practically running to Amara’s side. I suspected her motivation was to gain distance from my console’s chill, but it could just as easily be because everyone seemed to love Amara. Ylea snuck a peak at the designs projected from Amara’s holo. Agent Deore also left the platform. I shut down the displays, happy to finally have enough space to breathe in peace.

Ylea brushed her vivid orange hair behind her ear as she studied the holo. “This will be a big help. It’s impossible to make sense of the coding variations as they are now.”

Amara canceled the projection and clipped her device to her uniform collar, teasing Ylea with her signature mischievous smile. “I can’t make any guarantees. Not yet, anyhow. Why don’t you guys head back to headquarters or the break hall?” It was an enviably nice way of telling them to buzz off.

Agent Ylea’s curiosity made it hard for her to relent, but Agent Deore collected her, whispering something in her ear, and the two of them left.

“Slow progress?” Amara asked once the room was clear.

“Progress of some sort. The usual algorithms they use to build AIs weren’t permitted to be brought in. Or so I’ve been told.”

“We’re building one from scratch.”

“Then why ask?” I struggled to hide my fascination around her. She was different from the others. A rule breaker, a potential weak link. But, above all else, she was a breath of fresh air.

“I’m just teasing you,” her smile beamed. “Besides, I think I can help solve your problem.”

“What problem?” I wanted to point out that whatever it was—it wasn’t my problem. I didn’t care about what we were doing on the AI project. I was doing what I was told to do. But, in the split second after becoming the recipient of her beaming smile, I genuinely wanted her help. If that meant caring about the success of the AI, then so be it.

“You’re having a hard time collaborating, aren’t you? Frankly, your methods are probably beyond our understanding anyways. But the Agents can’t make heads or tails of your process.”

“And your solution?” My stomach twisted. Maybe I could do without her help after all. If that was an option.

“It’s not actually my solution,” she admitted. “Anyways, I’ll have to run some scans first before I can be sure it’ll work or not.” She stopped at the ridge marking the platform’s climate barrier. “I’m not coming up there. I’m not a fan of the cold.”

“I was told you designed this.”

“I did. And it’s a good design with a solid purpose. Doesn’t mean I want to freeze my fingers off.”

I shrugged. “I’m starting to like the cold.” I don’t know why I said that. It was true, but my comfort wasn’t something that mattered, and I knew that.

“I had a jacket designated for you, but….”

“But it wasn’t permitted,” I finished for her. She nodded. I shut down the holos, sending the programs into slumber along with the AI seed. “Uh, Agent Amara,” I gave a sheepish smile as the systems quieted and the paneled ring absorbed back into the platform ridge, “I was hoping to ask…the console is too small for the number of people using it now. If it’s possible….”

“Ah, right,” she answered before I finished. “I’ve been meaning to expand it. Sorry to make you put up with it for so long. This room wasn’t intended for company.”

“Then you can change it?”

“Of course. You’ll be locked in the living compartment while I make the changes, though. Sorry.”

“Sure. I understand.”

“You shouldn’t have to be. But you know, protocol and all that.”

“For today, however, I have to prioritize the biocircuit modification,” she instructed with an apologetic smile.

I stepped off the platform to join her, pausing when I realized she wasn’t wearing the remote ring all the others wore as a security measure. I glanced around, waiting for someone to come in and stand guard. But we were alone. And, for whatever reason, her lack of reservation had me feeling…vulnerable.

Amara didn’t share my nerves. She closed the distance between us, grabbed my arm, and led me to my med bay, side by side. Her hand was warm, her grip soft. I wasn’t sure what my expression showed, awe or shock, but she grinned.

“You look nervous,” she pointed out. “You don’t need to be. I’m only gathering data.”

“What’s this about? What modification?” I stumbled while she ushered me into a seat in the corner of the med bay.

“Can I see your arm?”

I didn’t comply. Amara watched me with curiosity. I waited, expecting a shock from my implant. When nothing happened, I gave her an equally curious look.

“You really did design the biocircuit, then?” I asked to stall for time. The hidden hub must be empty. Which meant we were alone. Unscrutinized.

She blinked away her surprise at my question. “Yes. One of my better pieces of work. Thanks to the extraordinary medium.” Was that meant to be a compliment? I didn’t push it further and reluctantly extended my right arm with its glowing veins.

“Does it bother you?” Her voice quieted. “Judging from the stats, well, it’s been a significant improvement.”

I didn’t say anything else. She called over a support bot and initiated a scan.

When the scan finished, she flipped the holo from her collar and downloaded the results.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked to distract myself from the temptation to merge with the small device. They seemed commonplace—but weren’t common in my training room. This one couldn’t be sanctioned. And there was the missing security ring, her bare fingers. Hesitance ate at me. Why, when it came to her, could I not act logically? This was an opportunity. Unsanctioned tech within reach. Answers. Advantage. I should go for it, shouldn’t I? But at what cost?

She finished downloading the scan, then paused to give me her full attention. I wished she wouldn’t. I tried not to blush under her gaze.

“What would you like to know?”

“Did you ever work at the Kel space base?”

“No. Why?” She adjusted the med bot to run another series of scans.

I shrugged. “I was told I was stationed there. I’m hoping to meet someone who might’ve known me. Do you know anyone working there?”

She shook her head. “It’s a small group, Imperial operatives. Getting smaller with every generation. Especially the human recruits, with genetic rationing getting tighter and all. The vorgons use our embryos for their reproduction, so, you know.…But once we’re assigned, it’s rare to be transferred. I might’ve crossed paths with you during training—but I feel like I would’ve remembered you.” She initiated the third scan.

“I get the feeling you would’ve been a troublemaker,” she grinned.

“Whatever gave you that impression….” Heat flushed my cheeks. She was kind enough to act like she didn’t notice.

“The troublemakers worth keeping around tend to get to know each other.”

“Worth keeping around?”

“Being brought back from probation only happens if you’re exceptional. I have a feeling you were exceptional. Even before all this.”

“For starters, the first thing you did after the procedure was break out of a high-security department. But also, because of the fact you survived at all. You’ve instinctually thrived after an uncharted biological change and made impressive progress in an area no one has experience in.” Her hazel eyes captivated me. “They put you under a lot of pressure, and I know this setup isn’t easy to deal with. But you’ve gone beyond expectations. You can feel proud of that.”

She flipped her holo out again to download the most recent results from the bot. As much as I tried, I couldn’t hide my interest in the device. What data did it hold? What answers? It was within reach, tempting me to find out. But, if I did follow my intrigue, I might not be the only one punished—which made it too high of a risk.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t stop watching it.

Amara noticed my distraction and raised her brows in silent question.

“That’s allowed in here?” I asked, casting my eyes away to silence my instinctual desire for advantage, for escape.

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “I need my data.”

I met her eyes. They didn’t hold any hints of uncertainty. I marveled at her unbridled resolution, but a sting of jealousy stole the smile I might’ve otherwise reacted with. I could never dream of being that bold. Not within these unforgiving walls.

Amara made some adjustments, then ran another scan, still holding my circuit-webbed wrist, oblivious to the factors running through my mind. Did she know my heart rate was elevated? She must, although it wasn’t what the bot was focused on. It sent pulses of alternate current to course through my body, receiving data on my cybernetic sense, triggering memories of Doctor Lsar’s lab.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Agent Terrokk stormed in, effectively cutting off the conversation. As an added measure, he sent a warning shock through to my implant. I ignored it, but Amara caught it through the med bot’s readings and shot a glare at the metallic man.

“That was unnecessary,” she scolded.

“You can’t enter without clearance, Agent.” He frowned at the holo hovering next to her. His arms were bare, showing off his Imperial ranking. The lack of a jacket indicated the degree of his concern. It meant he hadn’t taken time to grab a one before intervening. “It’s not safe. And there are protocols to follow.” An angry growl buzzed beneath his sharp reproach.

Amara finished downloading the data and flipped her holo back to her collar. “That’s fine. I’ve finished.”

“These diagnostics were meant to be carried out by Doctor Lsar,” he hissed.

“I know,” she shrugged. “It’s not necessary anymore. I have what I need.”

I froze at the doctor’s name. Had she just…spared me a trip to the crimson woman’s lab? Before I could exchange a glance to confirm it, Agent Terrokk reached us. He put his vorgonized body between Amara and me, blocking her from my sight as if I might be a danger to her. Her steps retreated after an annoyed sigh. Agent Terrokk fixed me with a metallic glare before shadowing her back to the entrance. They were whispering, arguing. I dismissed the med bot and focused on its retreat so I wouldn’t have to watch them leave. I had more questions to ask her. And the room felt colder once she’d gone.