The Aviator Awakening

The completion date arrived too soon. Ali nudged closer. We’d spent a longer-than-average merge together today. Our shared oasis was peaceful, my presence hardly necessary within her symphony. I only took the reins lately to reinforce the chain of command. The Empire wanted obedience—especially from a machine like her. If they could program me the same way, I knew they would prefer that route.

While in our merge, I hid my mounting dread around what was to follow completion. Separation. Little Ali was on the verge of picking up on it regardless. Yesterday I had to beg her to erase the last traces of our unauthorized data transfer. She’d been unwilling to forget our daring private mission and the subsequent time spent analyzing the details we’d gleaned. They were precious memories for me as well. It was only out of her sense of duty towards me that she relented, making me promise in exchange to share my memories of the deleted moments with her after the ‘inspection’ finished.

I swallowed my guilt, adjusting her programming to forbid her from similar unauthorized actions in the future. She accepted the change, having already forgotten the time we’d spent doing precisely the thing I now forbade.

When I pulled out of Ali’s system, Agent Xular was waiting. I wasn’t sure how long the baetian had been with us.

“Agent Amara said the project is ready to test.” Xular’s hollow voice spoke in Baezish, the Legion’s spoken language. They enjoyed testing me on their language whenever they got the chance. I suspected it eased their homesickness.

“It is,” I confirmed. The language came to me more naturally after my extended training with Ali. She was teaching me more than I was teaching her lately. “Did you bring the sample?” I asked.

Xular lifted their fingers to test this method of communication as well. I connected my conductor-embedded fingertips to theirs and listened to their musical thought link. In the silent exchange, they explained we were waiting for General Larkkon, Amara, and Agent Terrokk to join us. I tried, unsuccessfully, to reply in the same manner. To confirm I understood. But, without Ali facilitating our merge, I could not press the thoughts past the barriers of my skin. Disappointment radiated from Xular’s poreless fingertips.

You will need to overcome this block. For you and I alike, there will be times when unmonitored communication will be advantageous.

My anger managed to seep through, even if my direct thoughts could not.

Focus, Aviator. In time, you will understand that your mind will allow you to go beyond whatever physical confines you may be limited to.

We broke our thought link and waited. Agent Xular prepared the sample transmission. I resisted an urge to give little Ali a heads up to gain an advantage in her test. She’d grown in complexity, still physically small but perhaps not so little anymore. However, in my mind, she would always be the same vulnerable seed she’d started as.

The entrance pulsed open. Four pairs of footsteps joined us.

I froze, unintentionally catching Doctor Lsar’s blood-red eyes. The crimson woman smiled, unfazed by my surprise or the fear which must’ve flashed across my expression.

I took a deep breath and reminded myself this encounter with the crimson doctor might be different. Maybe, after this trial run, Ali’s potential could buy me distance from her lab.

The same thought stabbed me with guilt. How could I use the little bot as leverage? Ali hover-hopped, an up-and-down motion she portrayed to show excitement. The guilt dug deeper. I took in the sight of her, branding the eager bot’s image into memory. Then I scanned the room. Was there some way to sabotage this? Some way to extend my time with Ali’s gentle symphony? There were dozens of methods, but none that would prevent the test from eventually being carried out without causing irreparable harm to my robotic friend.

Xular stepped away from the platform to join the other four, who gathered around the room’s control center. I risked a last brush of my fingers against Ali’s smooth metallic skin to give silent encouragement. She buzzed excitedly, proving my encouragement to be more for myself than the confident AI.

I sighed the last twist of my debate out of mind and ushered Ali away from my side, sending her hovering spherical body between my platform and our audience. When I called the system online, I had to stifle a slight tremble, momentary evidence of my concern. Then I got to work isolating the transmission Agent Xular had prepared: a true Baet signal—an ethereal capsule of shared thought—meant to be transmitted and received by baetian hands.

Sending a signal like this outside of Baet receivers wasn’t easy. Amara had attached a stolen Baet transmitter to my console for that purpose. My training quarter’s isolated nature would hold the transmission within these walls. It was up to Ali to pick up on the signal as it emitted around us to test if she could capture and absorb the transmission.

I nodded to Xular and initiated the test. The sapphire baetian and I needed to avoid absorbing the signal ourselves as it radiated from the source. Music filled the room, unheard by the other occupants. I focused on my breathing to subdue the instinct to unwrap the ethereal song. It was a unique characteristic of Baet tech. Just as they could only share their thoughts by touch from one individual to another, these transmissions could only be shared with one recipient.

Ali’s curiosity displayed a whir of activity across her exterior. Her delicate hovering frame activated her embedded receiver, also designed with stolen Baet tech. Amara smiled at Ali’s display, her modifications coming to life.

The silent music ended.

Xular and I exchanged a knowing glance, both of us able to confirm Ali’s success before the others could. The little bot activated a projection, an unexpected flair. My pride swelled as much as my heart ached. She displayed a series of coordinates in the space above her spherical body.

General Larkkon whistled with pride. Doctor Lsar approached the bot, her blood-red hands flicking across Ali’s controls. “Fascinating,” the crimson woman marveled aloud. I swallowed back a parental instinct to hide the little bot from her callous touch.

“Good work, all of you,” General Larkkon congratulated.

My attention stayed locked on Doctor Lsar. I’d assumed Ali would stay with General Larkkon, with the operatives. The possibility of the crimson woman becoming involved with the little bot hadn’t entered my calculations.

“Well done,” Doctor Lsar said upon finishing her inspection. Her catchphrase slithered out effortlessly, bringing flashbacks of every session of tests I’d endured under her observation. “Agent Terrokk, can you pack it up? We will get started right away.”

I resisted the urge once again to intervene. Agent Terrokk had a smug grin, relishing in my inaction as he encapsulated little Ali into a pod. I returned to focusing on my breath, reminding myself this had been the goal. I knew they needed to test her performance. And I also knew I’d prepared Ali for this. Unlike me, she had nothing preventing her from following orders blindly. She was perfect.

Amara, Xular, and General Larkkon remained after Agent Terrokk and Doctor Lsar exited with little Ali. My discomfort must’ve been apparent because General Larkkon spoke with a sympathetic growl harmonizing beneath his words. “I’m sure you might feel attached to the machine, Aviator. You’ve spent a lot of time with it. However, it should stay separated from you for now to see how it performs on its own.”

“I understand,” I lied.

“If it goes well,” the General continued, “it will present an opportunity to create similar telepathic machines. This could become a significant advantage for us in the war.”

“Yes, sir.” My hesitance grew. I hadn’t factored in that possibility either, although it would make sense for the Empire to continue replicating their success. My stomach sank deeper.

“Agents, you’re dismissed. Thank you once again for your contributions,” General Larkkon ordered. The two Imperial operatives nodded and made their way to the exit. Amara offered quiet encouragement with a glance before leaving with Xular.

Once the others were gone, General Larkkon stepped into the console’s range, into the chill. “You have made commendable achievement,” he said, his rock-like voice heavy with compassion. His words lingered in the air like the clouds from his breath. “For an AI to be able to register thoughts…until now, such an idea has only been theory.”

“I think all AIs are capable of it,” I replied with lackluster conviction, still lost in a tsunami of concern for little Ali. “This one was simply given an opportunity to explore that possibility. But it won’t cause problems. It doesn’t know anything other than how to follow orders,” I assured him, worried they might not trust her just as they did not trust me.

“I don’t doubt it,” General Larkkon said, acknowledging my concern.

Silence settled between us for a moment.

“Can I ask, the spy satellite you intend to use this AI for—is it under your command or the Intelligence Department?”

“Does it matter?”

I frowned, taking his avoidance as a confirmation of my fear. “I’m happy to support the Empire in any way I can,” I said as I considered the implications of Ali’s success. “What exactly does my future look like now?” The guilt hit again. I was selfish to the core. Little Ali was in the grip of those I hated the most. Yet here I was—preoccupied with my own concerns.

“You’re worried that you’ll stay confined here while the bots you create enter the battlefield in your place.” General Larkkon stated exactly what I was thinking. “It is a possibility; I won’t lie about that. The priority, if this works out, is to keep you safe. Once the Legion catches wind of your existence, you’ll become a target.”

“You told me I should make myself too valuable to be left behind.” It wasn't easy to maintain my neutral shield. My concern for Ali lowered my guard. “I had thought that, eventually, my effort might lead beyond here.” I stopped trying to hide my disappointment and let my shoulders sink. “I’m happy to be useful to the Empire. And to my comrades. I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I had just…I don’t know…hoped for more.”

“I know.” His gemmed emerald brow glinted as it furrowed. “Let me give it some thought. I might be able to find a compromise.”

“Has the leak been found?”

“One of ours, unfortunately. Someone unnerved by the Baet nature of your work with Agent Xular. They’ve been taken care of and made an example of. It won’t happen again,” he assured himself as much as me. “It’s only a matter of time before your access is restored.”

I doubted Agent Terrokk shared his conviction. “Thank you, sir,” I said with lackluster effort. He patted my shoulder with his giant emerald hand.

His exit left the room unnaturally empty. I’d grown accustomed to Ali’s gentle symphony, to her eager connection. I remained unmoving for a long time. Then I peeled myself away from the platform and entered the simulator’s frames.

I let out more aggression than usual, losing track of time in the sea of faceless minions. When the training faded to black and returned to empty frames, the liquid-solid floor was too inviting to leave. I fell asleep, happy to avoid the unknowns haunting me.

I woke to a smooth caress.

My eyes met Amara’s. I moved to lift myself, but she gently pressed my head back to her lap.

I waited for Terrokk’s warning shock. He must be on duty. Nerzogk was more likely to spend time inside my unit during his shift. It was only Agent Terrokk who preferred to remain in the shadows.

When the shock didn’t come, dread and anger twisted my chest.

Amara smiled. An uncertain, hollow smile. Her lips opened to say something. Probably something encouraging, a message to keep up the good work. That it was all for a greater cause. That Ali would carry on, entering the war on my behalf. It would all be okay. We’ll start the next project. We’ll change the war. We’ll beat the Legion.

All without saying what really mattered. That now she, too, was a pawn for the Intelligence Department. That everything I touched was bound to be weaponized.

Her lips closed, and her smile faded. My brimming tears blurred her silhouette.

I closed my eyes. My body shuddered.

The touch of her caress slowed.

I lengthened my breathing to calm my trembles. I wanted to disappear, wishing I could melt into the simulator like I could melt into Ali’s network.

“Was it a mistake to name the bot?” she asked in a whisper. “It makes it too personal, doesn’t it?”

I attempted to separate from her touch, but she pressed me down firmer. I hardened my resolve—unable to accept my one ray of light as part of the illusion—and forcibly removed myself from her lap. “The project is complete. There’s no reason for you to be here.”

“Can’t a concerned friend be allowed to check in on you?” she whispered, keeping a hand on my wrist.

I laughed, forcing the hollow sound into a convincing dagger. “I don’t have friends. Only handlers.”

“I’m not like that.”

“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t be here.” I lifted myself half off the floor. Giving up the charade. Giving up my neutral shield. Keeping my gaze on the floor. “I don’t want to drag you further into this.”

Her silence demanded an explanation.

I rubbed my head and attempted to dry my slick cheeks. “I have a hard time knowing what is real and what is not,” I admitted. Too tired to lie. Too scared to match her eyes. She remained quiet. Uncertain. “You’ve always been real, though.” I mustered enough strength to lift my eyes to hers. Her hazel irises were fired with outrage. But they were also, thankfully, authentic. “I can’t have that, too, taken away.”

Amara clenched her fists. She didn’t move from where she sat on her heels, biting her lip, frowning. “I’m right here.” Her whisper came across as closer to a growl than a whimper. “Nothing is being taken away.”

I shook my head, ignoring the prick of the room’s surveillance network. “They’ve changed you. I don’t know why, or how. But I know it’s my fault. And I’m sorry for that.”

“You think everyone is against you.” Amara’s gaze dropped and threatened to burn a hole through the simulator’s nanobotic floor. My training quarter’s white lights made her even more vivid, her quivering lip even harder to ignore. “It’s not true, though. You have allies. I am your ally.”

“I believe you believe that,” I said, as void of emotion as possible.

She shot me a glare that hit harder than any of the simulator’s attackers. I didn’t waver. If the Intelligence Department knew I’d caught on, then, maybe, they’d let her go. Agent Terrokk had to be somewhere in the shadows. Watching, analyzing. How he could endorse Amara’s shift in roles was beyond me. But I doubted he’d have a problem with what I was attempting.

“Our work together is finished, agent.” I scanned the room while rising to stand, searching for an escape route. The console’s empty platform caught my eye. It was a dull network compared to Ali. But without the simulator as an option, it was my only solution.

My feet moved without being prompted, distancing myself from Amara’s invitation. “I hope we can work together again.” I twisted the words into a soldier’s rigid tone, unable to look back as her glare burned into my back. “I’d be happy to collaborate going forward. If it’s what the Empire wants.”

Without Ali, my escape into the console backfired. There was only the security network, the room’s eyes, to merge with.

Amara stayed motionless at the center of the simulator for a painstakingly long time. Then she wiped her cheeks clear of delayed tears. When she stood, her steps were slow.

An urge to give up and wrap her in my arms nearly overcame me. Even if it wasn’t authentic, Amara’s warmth was a comfort I couldn’t deny I craved.

But it was a warmth that didn’t belong here. In the cold. In the confusion. A warmth that should never be corrupted, no matter the cost.

Her exit didn’t make it any easier to breathe. I gripped onto the panel after severing my merge. Head low. Not hiding anything.

It didn’t matter anymore if the Intelligence Department was watching.

And I could only hope Agent Terrokk could take over from here and get Amara out of whatever deal she’d struck with them.