AIwaifu cycle 4

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For hours, Angela debated with herself on whether to follow up with Leon’s request (even though it felt more like a demand), but she eventually her wariness succumbed to her curiosity over the whole affair. And besides, he'd been someone important to her, once, and it wouldn't feel right not to follow up. That’s how she was justifying it to herself, at least.

Having no idea where she would be taken, she settled on donning a simple black dress, and waited by the entrance of her apartment block. It was well past dusk, but she wasn't worried about unsavory types hanging around, being in one of the more upscale neighborhoods of the planetary capital. And besides, both moons were out, leaving things rather well illuminated.

A black limousine pulled up next to her, and a large man in a suit and dark glasses stepped out, and seemed to hold the door open for her. “Miss Green,” he said, in deep baritone, “Thank you for being prompt.”

Hesitant for a final moment, her curiosity won her over once more and she stepped into the car, with the man getting in after her and closing the door.

As would be expected of a limousine, the interior was spacious and luxurious. It made her feel awkward. She wasn't used to this kind of thing. It didn't help that the way the bodyguard sat across from her with his dark glasses gave her the impression that he was watching her every move. Perhaps he was. Probably wasn't. But not really knowing made her uneasy.

He was a poor conversationalist, too. She tried making small talk, but it was mostly met with silence, shrugs, or one-word responses. She sighed and resigned herself to simply look out the window and watch the lights of the city streak by.

The limo pulled up in front of a high class establishment, nestled amongst the crisp skyscrapers of the more monied part of the capital. One look and Angela knew that Leon was pulling out all the stops on trying to impress her. Her salary with the hospital was nothing to sneer at, but she’d probably need half of it to even get a reservation in a place like this.

The bodyguard across from her stepped out and held the door open for her as she shuffled across the seat. She felt ill-at-ease walking down the promenade, as if several sets of hidden eyes were fixed upon her. Which was likely the case, she figured. Another set of well-dressed bodyguards stood at the door, and ushered her inside with few words.

Something suddenly struck her as extremely odd (which she mentally kicked herself for not noticing beforehand), which was that aside from the men in dark suits and dark glasses, there was nary a soul in the whole place. Normally a place like this would have been filled with the planetary elite; celebrities, politicians, bankers, with hordes of paparazzi outside clamoring for photographs and interviews. But… nothing. Silence.

Leon was seated towards the back of the place, among the rows of empty tables. He waited for Angela to get closer before getting up to embrace her. “Angela, oh you look absolutely lovely tonight,” he said, taking her hands and giving her an honest smile. “I’m so glad you’ve come.”

Angela did her best to return the smile, but her uneasiness was getting to her. Something felt different about him, something she’d noticed back in her office but couldn’t put quite put her finger on. This wasn’t quite the Leon she’d remembered. Leon had always been somewhat of a charmer, but he now carried himself with a confidence she didn’t think him capable of. Immaculately dressed and groomed, every movement and action performed as if it were intensely choreographed…

“Come, let’s have a seat,” he said, derailing her train of thought. “The food’s about ready.”

As if on cue, several waiters emerged from the kitchen, bringing wine and appetizers and setting them up for the pair.

“You’ll enjoy this,” said Leon, “We’ll have a meal prepared by the finest chef in the capital tonight.”

Angela chuckled nervously. “I suppose you haven’t forgotten how to treat a lady.”

Leon smiled as he sipped some wine, and studied her, as her own gaze fell to the table. “Is something wrong, Angela? You seem preoccupied.”

She took a deep breath and exhaled. “I know it’s silly, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m about to be whacked. Or have a black bag put over my head.”

Leon grinned. “You’re perfectly safe here, Angela.”

“I know…”

“Just not used to this sort of treatment, though, yes?”

“You could say that.” Idly, she let her eyes wander up to the cavernous ceiling. “Arranging all of this must have cost a fortune. You’ve pulled out all the stops on my account. I’ll assume all in an attempt to impress me?”

“Well, that depends.”

“On what?”

“Is it working?”

She chuffed in response. “I suppose it is.”

Leon gestured to her glass. “Have some wine, you’ll feel more at ease. We have so much to catch up on, anyway. Ten cycles is a long time.”

They chatted for a while, filling in the blanks for each other. Leon expounded on his aimless wanderings, and Angela detailed how she salvaged her career. She knew, however, that this was all simply skirting around the subject at hand.

“You know,” she said, “We could have done this, the catching up, via ansible. I know you’re not here for that, and we don’t need to beat around the bush.”

“I know. I just feel that at least I owe you the courtesy of doing it in person.” He cleared his throat. “Besides, my proposal would be best given face-to-face. Ansibles are not totally secure communication devices, no matter what anyone says. Corporate spies find ways.”

“The way you say that makes it sound quite shady…”

He leaned in a bit, and she did the same. “It’s a tad shady, yes, but only out of necessity. The applications of what I’m about to tell you are… astounding. And we certainly don’t need anyone pulling the rug out from under us before we have a chance to properly explore them.”

“Well… I’m listening.”

“Good. You see, the PMC I’ve thrown my lot in with has the key to getting around those regulations and bans the Confederacy slapped on AI research and development. All that… political garbage, taking advantage of the fear running rampant after the ‘Great Crash’ as they called it… ruining our careers, canning our project…”

“I remember quite well, Leon, and need no reminder.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. But, good news. That proprietary technology I mentioned before, the one Hawthorne-Krieger has developed? It’s a wetware interface system.”

“That hardly sounds like a revolutionary concept, so I assume there’s more to it?”

“Naturally. It goes much, much further than a plugsuit, though. Or even a spike port. It takes the form of a sort of neural lace, a webbing wrapped directly over the subject’s brain.”

She put a hand over her mouth. “Dear lord… that sounds… extremely invasive.”

“Incredibly so. But the subjects who receive the procedure, they can be fitted with any augmentation on the market, and they can control it as if they were born with it attached, and  eliminating the need for physical therapy. And it’s adaptable to any system.”

Angela raised her eyebrows. “Fascinating… but how can that possibly be ethical?” Angela’s eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“They go the full mile to document that the consent of the subject is freely given. And I have yet to see a single one be dissatisfied with the results.”

Angela chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking. “Who even volunteers for that sort of procedure?”

“People who have lost something, generally. A lot of soldiers, who’ve lost their limbs, or at least the usage of them, in the course of combat. Sometimes people who have otherwise lost their will to live.” Leon paused for a moment. “I know what you’re thinking now. That we’re taking advantage of people experiencing a crisis. We’re not. The procedure is invasive, but it’s hardly experimental. Just a well-kept secret. We’re giving these people another chance at life, one they’d never have otherwise.”

Angela sat silently for a few moments, deep in thought, with her elbows on the table and fingers laced together, covering her mouth. “And our old research... it can be adapted to this wetware interface?”

“Not just ‘can’. We’ve already done it.”

“How?”

Leon smiled. “Unfortunately, my dear Angela, that’s the extent of what I can tell you at this moment.”

She furrowed her brow. “Are you serious? You’re stringing me along?”

“I’m not stringing you along, oh no, on the contrary. I’m going to make you an offer. That’s what tonight is all about. I want you on my team. I’ve convinced my company contacts to give you a chance. Should you accept it, of course.” He picked up his glass and knocked back the remainder of its contents.

Her eyes wandered as she considered all he'd said. “I'll admit, I'm intrigued, but… I've been out of that field of research- no, not even that. The field has quite literally ceased to exist for some time now.”

“Well, we're bringing it back. And if I recall, you were the one who quite literally wrote the book.” She appeared bashful for a moment, and he smirked, knowing she hadn't changed all that much.

“But… there's the matter of my current position, with the hospital here.”

“If money’s the concern, you’ll be paid at a rate more suited to one of your ability.”

“Leon, no. Money’s not what I’m concerned about. I’m worried about my current patients. I’ve been working with some of them for years now, it would be remiss of me to simply… uproot and abandon them.”

Leon leaned a bit forward again. “I promise you, Angela. What we’re going to do, it will change everything. It will help so many. If we succeed. I know you’ll be integral to that success.” He could see she was still weighing it all out in her mind, so he added, “And don’t think you’d just be abandoning your patients. If you’d like, perhaps we could extend an offer to them as well, to join the project. We are in need of more volunteers.”

“I hardly think that would be-”

He interrupted her. “We’re taking every precaution possible, here. We thoroughly vet all volunteers before they’re admitted into the program. The last thing we’d want would be for a subject to suffer… complications of any sort.”

She was silent for a few moments, eyes focused on the table. “I will admit. You’ve… intrigued me, Leon. But I have to ask, if I agree, to what degree am I bound to all of this? After all, you’ve only given me a quick rundown so far.”

“Well, you’ll have to sign a stack of binding non-disclosures first. And a few non-competes. Standard corporate fare. But I promise, no more than that.”

“And for any of my patients?”

“The same applies.”

She gave it another period of thought, before extending her hand across the table. “Well, Leon,” she said as he took her hand and they shook, “I suppose you’ve succeeded in roping me into this little scheme of yours.” She gave him a smirk.

“You won’t be disappointed, Angela. I promise you.” He stood up and she followed suit. Stepping towards her, he took her hands in his own. “We’re going to put ourselves back on top with this. We’re going to shift paradigms.”

She chuckled. Leon had always had a flair for the grandiose.

“Oh, one more thing. Hawthorne-Krieger had us change the name of the project. The board thinks calling it Project Chimera will sound too aggressive, especially when we bring our findings before the CSF and UGCO. It was decided it’d be more fitting to call it Project Gemini.”

“Fitting, as in, foreshadowing purpose?”

He flashed her a mischievous grin. “You’ll see.”

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