Agent Connecticut
Artificial Intelligence: N/A
Among the Freelancers, there was an informal procedure for after a mission. This had been established within the first few weeks, with neither any discussion nor any notable sign of organisation. First you would give the Director a five-second debriefing, then shower, then change into whatever you were most comfortable in (for some Freelancers, this meant straight back into armour, for reasons the others couldn’t fathom) and then write up your report.
CT was almost done with this last, looking forward to some sleep, when the alarms began to blare.
She jumped to her feet, instinctively reaching for a rifle that was now in the armoury. CT looked at her bunk (uncomfortable, yes, but it got better with time) and then at her armour, and then sighed. The Director would have to wait for his report, and she’d have to wait for her eight hours.
CT paused before putting her helmet on, remembering Michigan’s face the last time she’d seen him, and thinking about the strong possibility that he was worse off now. It was likely that something about Mich’s condition was behind the alarm.
She tried to repress the thought that tried to get to the front of her mind –that Mich was one of those monsters. In the locker room, she’d overheard Tennessee and Maryland gossiping about Mich and what had happened on the mission. Most of what they said was complete bullshit, warped by a grown-up game of Chinese Whispers. But they had said something about Mich already turning…
CT pushed the thought away.
There was one way to find out.
“FILSS, what’s happening?”
It took the AI a full five seconds to respond –too long, going by FILSS’s nature. Whatever the situation on the ship was, it seemed to be taking its toll on FILSS.
“Multiple hostile –” FILSS’s voice cut off abruptly, then restarted, “Multiple infected personnel have es-escaped the biohazard zone. Sector lockdown has been initiated. A-all active units are to–”
“FILSS?” CT asked, fixing her helmet into place. She hated her helmet’s design –something like Carolina’s would’ve been better.
“…prepare themselves for a possible outbreak,” FILSS managed. CT frowned. The AI sounded like a stressed secretary, like she was taking a beating from something. She’d never heard FILSS drop the cheery voice before, let alone stutter and pause. It was an emergency, with the slow and steady siren testifying that to anyone with ears. But even taking that into consideration, FILSS’s behaviour was unusual.
Think about it later, CT decided. Figure out exactly what’s going on now.
With this in mind, she left her room for the hallway, heading towards the cafeteria. There should be someone who knew somethingthere. And if there wasn’t, there were always the wild but always interesting theories of various Freelancers.
The hallways were empty on her way –very unusual around this time. It became apparent why when CT finally opened the door to the cafeteria.
Almost all of the Freelancers were in the room, as well as many troopers. She looked around, trying to assess who would be able to give her the best information. She settled on York, who was talking to Wash, Alaska and another agent –Louisiana, the guy who specialised in tactics.
She manoeuvred through the room with some difficulty –it was packed pretty tight. She ducked past South, who seemed to be in a slightly one-sided argument with Maine, squeezed between Minnesota and Montana, and outright shoved Vermont out of the way before reaching the other side of the room.
With or without the helmet, it was obvious that Alaska was raising an eyebrow at CT’s unusual entrance. None of the others seemed to really care, either too used to it or too busy talking. Wash had pulled a chair over and sat, flipping his helmet around over and over again. Epsilon, by his shoulder, jolted with each movement.
“Hey, Connie,”he said. CT frowned at that –he knew how much she hated that name –but let it slide. The others mumbled similar greetings.
“What’s going on?” she asked, skipping niceties.
“There’s been a sector lockdown,” Louisiana told her. And then, after a moment, “Thanks to your Mich.”
CT frowned at the ‘your Mich’ comment.
“We’re not entirely sure what’s going on now,”York said.
“But a while ago these idiots let Utah bust out a bunch of horrible monsters and now everyone’s terrified they’ll break through quarantine and start killing everyone,” Lou drawled, earning him a glare from three Freelancers.
“Counsellor’s worried the little ones’ll get through the air vents,” Wash said.
“And the Director doesn’t think it’s possible?” CT guessed. A few long-suffering sighs told her to be quiet.
“He should be right on this one, actually,” Alaska said.
“Even the small ones are too big to fit into the vents,” York agreed. “Won’t be a problem.”
“What will be a problem is safely transferring the bastards from the Mother to Angel on my Shoulder,” Lou said.“They’ve got a whole sector to move freely –a small one, but a decent area. And we don’t exactly have a low-risk way to restrain them. Plus, Carolina’s down for the count and no one’s seen Texas all day.”
“Carolina?”
“She was shot,”Wash told CT.
A beat.
“But she’s fine,” he added quickly.
“Would’ve been nice if the information that hey could shoot got passed along,” Alaska muttered.
“You guys didn’t know?” CT asked.
“I did,” Wash said. “I guess I just assumed Carolina had been told.”
Another round of long-suffering sighs.
“Imagine what would happen if one of them got a rocket launcher,” Alaska murmured.
“Not helping, Ali,” Lou said.
There was a pause, where the Freelancers tried to find something else to say.
“Hey, guys?”Epsilon said. Wash nearly dropped his helmet in surprise, but recovered quickly.
“Y’know Eta, right? The annoying one?” he continued.
“Yeah?”
“Well, he’s…”
When Epsilon trailed off, a new voice spoke up –Delta. “What Epsilon means is that Eta seems to have been affected either by his host’s death of the disease itself. He is currently trying to get in contact with several AI, and I believe he may cause problems.”
“Problems?” York said.
“FILSS,” CT muttered.
“That is an accurate assessment, Connecticut,” Delta said.
“FILSS has to respond to us –safety protocols,” Epsilon said. “He would’ve had a great chance to plant a virus or something.”
“Can you guys do that?” Wash asked.
“We can’t,” Delta said. “Safety protocols prohibit us from attacking a friendly AI outside of our own training.”
“But if whatever happened screwed Eta up enough…” Epsilon prompted.
“Then those safety protocols could be ignored?” Lou asked.
“Taking Eta’s behaviour up to this point into account, I would say deleted would be more likely,” Delta corrected, “and possibly replaced with skills. Eta never was able to create a virus strong enough to disrupt something like FILSS.”
“That makes no sense,” Alaska said.
“Agreed,” York muttered. “D, explain please.”
“Judging by Eta’s behaviour, the virus has some intelligence,” Delta said.
“York, have you been letting Delta watch zombie movies?” CT asked.
“No,” York said.
“Ep, is that possible?” Wash asked.
“Unlikely, but possible,” Epsilon replied.
“Heta?” Lou asked. A little pale grey light formed a person.
“I agree with Epsilon’s assessment,” he said. “While unlikely, previous reports on something similar encountered support it.”
“Reports where?”Epsilon asked.
Heta didn’t answer.
“Damn it, Heta. I told you to keep your nose out of anything marked ‘classified’!” Lou growled. His AI didn’t flinch a bit, only shrugged.
“Hey, guys,”Alaska said in the quiet. “I think we’re missing the point. If this thing can screw with FILSS, doesn’t that mean it could open the doors?”
“W-warning, sector lockdown breached, all units –” FILSS’s voice cut off as abruptly as it had started.
All eyes were on Alaska.
“I could almost feel that coming just as I said it,” she said.
Artificial Intelligence: N/A
Among the Freelancers, there was an informal procedure for after a mission. This had been established within the first few weeks, with neither any discussion nor any notable sign of organisation. First you would give the Director a five-second debriefing, then shower, then change into whatever you were most comfortable in (for some Freelancers, this meant straight back into armour, for reasons the others couldn’t fathom) and then write up your report.
CT was almost done with this last, looking forward to some sleep, when the alarms began to blare.
She jumped to her feet, instinctively reaching for a rifle that was now in the armoury. CT looked at her bunk (uncomfortable, yes, but it got better with time) and then at her armour, and then sighed. The Director would have to wait for his report, and she’d have to wait for her eight hours.
CT paused before putting her helmet on, remembering Michigan’s face the last time she’d seen him, and thinking about the strong possibility that he was worse off now. It was likely that something about Mich’s condition was behind the alarm.
She tried to repress the thought that tried to get to the front of her mind –that Mich was one of those monsters. In the locker room, she’d overheard Tennessee and Maryland gossiping about Mich and what had happened on the mission. Most of what they said was complete bullshit, warped by a grown-up game of Chinese Whispers. But they had said something about Mich already turning…
CT pushed the thought away.
There was one way to find out.
“FILSS, what’s happening?”
It took the AI a full five seconds to respond –too long, going by FILSS’s nature. Whatever the situation on the ship was, it seemed to be taking its toll on FILSS.
“Multiple hostile –” FILSS’s voice cut off abruptly, then restarted, “Multiple infected personnel have es-escaped the biohazard zone. Sector lockdown has been initiated. A-all active units are to–”
“FILSS?” CT asked, fixing her helmet into place. She hated her helmet’s design –something like Carolina’s would’ve been better.
“…prepare themselves for a possible outbreak,” FILSS managed. CT frowned. The AI sounded like a stressed secretary, like she was taking a beating from something. She’d never heard FILSS drop the cheery voice before, let alone stutter and pause. It was an emergency, with the slow and steady siren testifying that to anyone with ears. But even taking that into consideration, FILSS’s behaviour was unusual.
Think about it later, CT decided. Figure out exactly what’s going on now.
With this in mind, she left her room for the hallway, heading towards the cafeteria. There should be someone who knew somethingthere. And if there wasn’t, there were always the wild but always interesting theories of various Freelancers.
The hallways were empty on her way –very unusual around this time. It became apparent why when CT finally opened the door to the cafeteria.
Almost all of the Freelancers were in the room, as well as many troopers. She looked around, trying to assess who would be able to give her the best information. She settled on York, who was talking to Wash, Alaska and another agent –Louisiana, the guy who specialised in tactics.
She manoeuvred through the room with some difficulty –it was packed pretty tight. She ducked past South, who seemed to be in a slightly one-sided argument with Maine, squeezed between Minnesota and Montana, and outright shoved Vermont out of the way before reaching the other side of the room.
With or without the helmet, it was obvious that Alaska was raising an eyebrow at CT’s unusual entrance. None of the others seemed to really care, either too used to it or too busy talking. Wash had pulled a chair over and sat, flipping his helmet around over and over again. Epsilon, by his shoulder, jolted with each movement.
“Hey, Connie,”he said. CT frowned at that –he knew how much she hated that name –but let it slide. The others mumbled similar greetings.
“What’s going on?” she asked, skipping niceties.
“There’s been a sector lockdown,” Louisiana told her. And then, after a moment, “Thanks to your Mich.”
CT frowned at the ‘your Mich’ comment.
“We’re not entirely sure what’s going on now,”York said.
“But a while ago these idiots let Utah bust out a bunch of horrible monsters and now everyone’s terrified they’ll break through quarantine and start killing everyone,” Lou drawled, earning him a glare from three Freelancers.
“Counsellor’s worried the little ones’ll get through the air vents,” Wash said.
“And the Director doesn’t think it’s possible?” CT guessed. A few long-suffering sighs told her to be quiet.
“He should be right on this one, actually,” Alaska said.
“Even the small ones are too big to fit into the vents,” York agreed. “Won’t be a problem.”
“What will be a problem is safely transferring the bastards from the Mother to Angel on my Shoulder,” Lou said.“They’ve got a whole sector to move freely –a small one, but a decent area. And we don’t exactly have a low-risk way to restrain them. Plus, Carolina’s down for the count and no one’s seen Texas all day.”
“Carolina?”
“She was shot,”Wash told CT.
A beat.
“But she’s fine,” he added quickly.
“Would’ve been nice if the information that hey could shoot got passed along,” Alaska muttered.
“You guys didn’t know?” CT asked.
“I did,” Wash said. “I guess I just assumed Carolina had been told.”
Another round of long-suffering sighs.
“Imagine what would happen if one of them got a rocket launcher,” Alaska murmured.
“Not helping, Ali,” Lou said.
There was a pause, where the Freelancers tried to find something else to say.
“Hey, guys?”Epsilon said. Wash nearly dropped his helmet in surprise, but recovered quickly.
“Y’know Eta, right? The annoying one?” he continued.
“Yeah?”
“Well, he’s…”
When Epsilon trailed off, a new voice spoke up –Delta. “What Epsilon means is that Eta seems to have been affected either by his host’s death of the disease itself. He is currently trying to get in contact with several AI, and I believe he may cause problems.”
“Problems?” York said.
“FILSS,” CT muttered.
“That is an accurate assessment, Connecticut,” Delta said.
“FILSS has to respond to us –safety protocols,” Epsilon said. “He would’ve had a great chance to plant a virus or something.”
“Can you guys do that?” Wash asked.
“We can’t,” Delta said. “Safety protocols prohibit us from attacking a friendly AI outside of our own training.”
“But if whatever happened screwed Eta up enough…” Epsilon prompted.
“Then those safety protocols could be ignored?” Lou asked.
“Taking Eta’s behaviour up to this point into account, I would say deleted would be more likely,” Delta corrected, “and possibly replaced with skills. Eta never was able to create a virus strong enough to disrupt something like FILSS.”
“That makes no sense,” Alaska said.
“Agreed,” York muttered. “D, explain please.”
“Judging by Eta’s behaviour, the virus has some intelligence,” Delta said.
“York, have you been letting Delta watch zombie movies?” CT asked.
“No,” York said.
“Ep, is that possible?” Wash asked.
“Unlikely, but possible,” Epsilon replied.
“Heta?” Lou asked. A little pale grey light formed a person.
“I agree with Epsilon’s assessment,” he said. “While unlikely, previous reports on something similar encountered support it.”
“Reports where?”Epsilon asked.
Heta didn’t answer.
“Damn it, Heta. I told you to keep your nose out of anything marked ‘classified’!” Lou growled. His AI didn’t flinch a bit, only shrugged.
“Hey, guys,”Alaska said in the quiet. “I think we’re missing the point. If this thing can screw with FILSS, doesn’t that mean it could open the doors?”
“W-warning, sector lockdown breached, all units –” FILSS’s voice cut off as abruptly as it had started.
All eyes were on Alaska.
“I could almost feel that coming just as I said it,” she said.