1.41
“A.I.?” Cameron asked, looking between Logan and Sybil before glancing back at Alistair with a questioning glare, “Is that like V.I. for our A.R.M.S. units?”
Alistair rolled his head in a way to say ‘yes and no’, “Kinda.”
Logan scoffed and crossed his arm, leaning back against the wall, looking only at Alistair as he spoke, “The only way they are remotely the same is that they both go into the same slot on a unit and are meant to assist a pilot on the battlefield. From there, it’s like comparing the energy output between a hand-crank and a nuclear reactor. They're not even playing the same sport, let alone in the same league.
“That’s a fair enough allegory,” Sybil said, continuing Logan’s train of thought, “But I think we can expound on that a little more for Cameron. He’s still a baby pilot after all.”
“Fair enough,” Logan said, shuffling in the booth to get a better look at Cameron. There was a slight pause followed by a smirking chuckle as his eyes focused on the dark bruise forming around his jaw, but eventually he was able to find his train of thought to illuminate his young protégé on the specifics.
“So,” he began, “Without getting into all the mechanical and scientific jargon that confuses even me, yes both V.I. and A.I. serve a similar base purpose. That purpose is twofold, first, it functions as the Primary Control Mechanism or PCM for an A.R.M.S. unit. It manages everything from heat, fluid intake, vision, pneumatics, and life support systems that gives people like us the ability to ride around at mach speed and swing giant weapons the size of a house at each other. Second, they perform performance analysis and battlefield diagnostics in real-time, allowing us to essentially have a three hundred and sixty degree view of our environments at any time. Yes, there are some units that can circumvent this, and get the jump on you, but those are few and far between. For the most part though, both systems are the same when it comes to these things.”
“Okay?” Cameron said slowly, “Then what-”
Logan cut him off, holding up a hand to silence him as he continued, “However, that is where the similarities end. Because that is all the functions that a V.I. can perform. It’s a virtual intelligence, not an artificial one. Meaning, it’s basically just a template of procedures and processes with a personality matrix overlay on it. If me and you where in the same situation and someone was getting ready to jump us from behind, our V.I.’s would notify us such at the same time, just in different voices.”
“And A.I. wouldn’t?” Cameron asked.
Logan shook his head, “No, it would, but it would do so much more than that. A.I. isn’t just a series of processes. It’s… conscious. It possesses a code so dense, so refined, and advanced, built to watch and analyze who you are as fighter to such a fine point that in that same scenario an A.I. would not only alert you, but tell you the best way to react that feels the most natural to you. They’re voices and mannerisms aren’t just a personality matrix. It learns how you learn, it speaks to you in a realistic and emotional way. They’re so advanced and unique that while a V.I. can be swapped in and out from unit to unit and pilot to pilot, an A.I. can only be used once. That’s it. Don’t ask me why, cause that’s all I really know. It’s an autonomous, self-thinking… thing. I can’t even explain it cause I’m only regurgitating what I’ve heard.”
Cameron raised an eyebrow, looking between the three of them, “Why are you talking about them like they’re some sort of relic, are they that rare or something?”
A chorus of laughter filled the room in response to his question, and Cameron felt a hand rest on his thigh as Sybil spoke up, her honeyed voice and emerald eyes drawing his attention as much as the information she expounded.
“Rare is an understatement honey. I’d say for every 10,000 V.I. intergrated mechs, there’s one A.I. unit.”
“Think of this way,” Alistair chimed in, “You could have a tech mech a V.I. for you right here in this room. It’d take a week or so, but they could do it from scratch. An A.I. requires a labratory the size of Arsius station to make one every five years. They’re worth their weight not in silver, but in planets. The only pilots I know personally that have A.I. integrated units are all Omega class.”
Cameron’s jaw dropped at this, his eyes widening in surprise, as the weight of an A.I.s value was finally starting to dawn on him. He shook his head, clearing it of his surprise, before pointing a finger at Alistair, asking the question that had been on his mind since their lively introduction, “Alright, pardon my language, but just who the fuck are you?”
Alistair smirked and chuckled dryly, giving a mocking bow as he replied, “Alistair Kincaid, information broker at your service. I sell anything from secret black-site GAC operations, to the newest in terms of corporate espionage to the highest bidder, whether that be to a Free-Space mercenary, or in this case,” He paused for dramatic effect, waving a hand towards Sybil, “An EarthGov diplomat.”
All eyes turned towards Sybil, and for the first time the Cameron could recall since meeting her, the woman’s cheeks turned a pale shade of pink from embarrassment.
“Well would you look at that,” Logan said, putting his arms behind his head as he casually leaned back against the cushion of the booth, “The government consorting with shady fucks to do even shadier shit. A tale as old as time.”
Sybil cut a sharp glare towards Logan’s direction, before clearing her throat, attempting to take control of the conversation.
“As discussed earlier,” She said, shooting another look at Logan, who wasn’t even bothering to hide his smirk, “A.I.s are extremely rare as well as expensive. So rare and expensive in fact, that EarthGov controls nearly all A.I. manufacturing in the entire galaxy. I say nearly, because it seems that a few unscrupulous individuals have decided to circumvent our control of the intelligence trade by starting their own creation lab, in EarthGov space no less.”
Now it was Logan’s turn to look surprised, both of his eyes raising as he sat up, “Well that’s interesting… and idiotic. I’ve heard of dead men walking, but never did I think they’d hold up a sign that read ‘turn me into pink mist please’ in giant neon letters.”
Sybil laughed, giving a nodding shrug, “Well, I can abide by a lot, but someone making my job harder is something I won’t let stand… Isn’t that right, Alistair?” She asked, keeping her eyes set on Logan, while Cameron watched the broker start to visibly sweat, giving a nervous chuckle.
“Y-Yes Ma’am,” He said, “Perhaps I should give a proper mission briefing then, now that we’re all acquainted and informed about the subject.”
“Yes,” She said with a tone that was equally upbeat and cold, “Perhaps you should.”
“Approximately nine years ago,” Alistair began, sighing slightly as he paced back and forth, “A group of various programmers, engineers, computer scientists, and financiers came together with one goal in mind; To create the next generation of battlefield A.I. This consortium of great thinkers and powerful backers became known as The Manna Group. For nearly a decade they worked on divining the perfect algorithm and matrixes to make an A.I. that was not only autonomous and self-learning, but self-evolving as well. This went farther than just adding a few million lines of code to make it smarter. It was the aim… our aim to make such a consciousness that can analyze the pilot on an unconscious level and upgrade itself to sync with them perfectly. Two minds to one machine, with a connection that went as deep within the mental physical and emotional state as one machine can be to an organic.”
“Hold up,” Cameron said, looking at Alistair warily, “What do you mean by ‘our aim’?”
Alistair coughed, pulling at his shirt collar, “There’s not really a sense in hiding it from you all I suppose, seeing as Ms. Moore is aware and that’s the only one who matters in the eyes of the criminal court. Yes, I was among the financiers of The Manna Group. For years I backed them and helped fund research and development for the system, until I was bought out my contemporaries and left with nothing but pennies and information. Information which I then used for leverage with EarthGov to garner immunity as well as a special mission request with central command.”
Logan laughed dersively, “So the other kids said you couldn’t play with them anymore and you decided to go tattle on them. You’re a punk Alistair, always have been, always will be.”
Alistair sucked in through his teeth, responding back to Logan with a slight edge in his voice, “This punk is about to make you fucks a lot of money Rake… Show some respect.”
“I will… when you earn it.”
“Alright boys, put the measuring tape away,” Sybil said, amusement clear in her tone as she broke the tension with her easy-going persona, “Alistair, be a dear and show them what you showed me.”
Alistair sighed and reached into his pocket, searching around before producing a small device which he placed on the table. It was disk shaped and made of a dark reflective metal, with a white electronic dot set in the center.
“This should make things a bit clearer,” Alistair said, walking up and tapping the center, before stepping back allowing the device to spin up and turn on, producing a picture of a canister, close to Cameron’s forearm in size and glowing a deep sapphire blue.
“May I introduce A.E.I.A, the Autonomous Evolutionary Integration Assistant, or Aeia for short. This is the culmination of a near decade of work, and enough money to fill a planet. This is what you’re here for. This is what we want.”
“In approximately thirty-six hours…,” Sybil said, standing up and switching places with Alistair who plopped down in the booth, “A team of special forces operators will be raiding Manna Group’s main lab on an asteroid cluster out in the Kruegan Reach. Thanks to Alistair’s intelligence, we’re confident the rogue A.I. is located there. What we don’t know however is the current defensive posture, which is where you come in, Gentlemen. Your job would be two fold. First of which would be supporting the boots on the ground, acting as the heavy hitters should Squires, or other A.R.M.S. units be stationed there. Second, we would need one of you to join in on the raid in order to grab the module to bring back her, or failing that, destroy it.”
“Destroy it?” Cameron said, “If this is supposed to be the most advanced A.I. around, wouldn’t you want it’s safe return a priority?”
Sybil chuckled and shrugged, “We don’t know the full extent of the A.I.. It could very well be all smoke and mirrors. A bunch of bullshit to tell shareholders in order to keep the money flowing. Or it very well could be the next evolution in Piloting since the neural uplink. Earth Gov isn’t all too concerned on the specifics if I’m being honest, as long as it doesn’t end up in the hands of someone we can’t… work with.”
“So,” Cameron began, looking between a skeptical looking Logan and an expectant looking Sybil, “Let me get this straight. You want us,” he said, motioning to himself and Logan, “You want me and dickhead over here, to jump face first into some secret squirrel black ops style mission for the government who fucking EXILED me, because a bunch of assholes we don’t know decided to write a bunch of code a decade ago and y’all don’t like it?”
“Dickhead?” Logan said.
“Yes,” Sybil replied smoothly batting her eyelashes.
“Why?” Cameron asked, crossing his arms and leaning back, eyeing his mysterious paramour warily.
“Because I’m asking nicely,” She said, putting a little extra honey in her voice.
“And because we’ll pay you enough silver to buy your own frieghter fleet,” Alistair chimed in.
“But mostly, because I’m asking nicely, Cam,” Sybil said, giving him a grin and a wink that made his stomach knot.
“Welp,” He said, after a few moments of intense thought before turning to Logan, “I’m sold, what about you?”