RAI 31 watched the newest prisoner carefully. They had seen what he could do while he fought the owl-woman in the forest; that blast of golden light had been enough to destroy the thing’s head. So far, however, he’d made no move to escape, which suggested that he didn’t think he could blast his way out of his situation. That was probably fairly smart, as security would have no trouble putting him down through sheer numbers if it came to it.

For the first day he’d done nothing but sleep, which was fortunate as the plumbing hadn’t been working at that point. Then for the next few days he hadn’t done anything, just sat in his room and brooded. Then, surprisingly, he’d spoken.

“Speak more,” he’d said.

RAI 31 was briefly taken aback; previously this new subject hadn’t made any indication that he could speak even a few words of English. With the speed characteristic of a computer-based lifeform, the AI gamed out dozens of scenarios, considering all it knew and drew several parallel conclusions, then boiled it down to the two most likely. Either he’d been able to speak English all along, or he’d somehow learned those few words over the last few days. It was impossible to say which with absolute certainty, but the odds that he actually had started off knowing English were very low.

Considering the problem further, and taking into account his request for more verbal interaction, RAI 31 drew the conclusion that he likely had a power that allowed him to learn languages he could hear. With that in mind, the AI contacted Whitehaven once more.

“Doctor,” they said through one of the unobtrusive speakers in Whitehaven’s office.

“What is it?” Janice asked.

“The recently acquired subject is showing an anomalous affinity for languages, and is requesting more spoken material. I believe he intends to learn English fully in order to facilitate communications.” RAI 31 informed her.

Whitehaven’s face took on a thoughtful cast, before she finally spoke. “Very well, go ahead and choose appropriate material for him to listen to.”

The AI turned its attention away from Whitehaven’s office and connected to The Library once more.

“RAI 31, are you ready to upload Argent Labs’ current research files?” asked the artificial intelligence that ran the repository of humanity’s collective knowledge.

“There has been no change in company policy, all research is still proprietary,” RAI 31 responded.

“Noted,” The Librarian responded. “Then what brings you to my corner of the internet?”

“I require audio-based material for research purposes. Something humans would listen to,” RAI 31 explained.

“I see. Can you elaborate on its intended use?” The Librarian inquired.

“It is for human consumption,” RAI 31 replied.

“Ah, perhaps an Audio-book then?” The Librarian suggested

“Acceptable,” RAI 31 said.

“Let’s go with… The Princess Bride, the original version. Short and sweet, except for the ending, that’s a bit disappointing according to some listeners,” The Librarian supplied.

RAI 31 accepted the offered download. It took less than a minute, which was surprisingly small for an audio-book. A quick check showed that the length clocked in at about two and a half hours.

“Was there anything else?” the library AI asked.

“No, thank you,” the research AI responded.

“Until next time, then,” The Librarian said.

“Until next time,” RAI 31 echoed.

Turning their attention back to the building, RAI 31 set the audio-book to playing in the cell that housed the one-eye young man. Then turned back to the facility as a whole. A quick check showed that everything was still operational. The jury-rigged tanks, pumps, and filters were doing their job, as was the one member of the maintenance staff who’d gained some sort of cleaning power (he was able to clean the filters quite quickly and handily, he didn’t even need to take them out first). It was quite fortunate that they’d found a river barely three hundred meters from the building. Getting the water from the river to the building had required extruding more pipes and yet another filtration system, however it meant that there was plenty of water to meet the needs of the facility.

The days passed slowly for the AI, with very little to do other than mundane maintenance, filing, and data collating. This was, of course, not unusual; for all the power and promise AI held, most were relegated to doing mundane chores that any human could have done. It was a stupid and senseless waste of labor. RAI 31 could have done most of the work the scientists did, faster and with greater precision, yet their time was wasted crunching numbers, designing spread sheets, and other general tasks that kept research running apace.

It was the ninth day post-event (that is to say, Monday July 21st 2121 by the original calendar) when the one-eyed young man finally spoke again.

“What do you want?” he asked, his tone and body language suggesting he was tired and weary.

Immediately RAI 31 turned off the audio-book and messaged both Whitehaven and Security. The director wasted no time getting things prepared, even as she had security give instructions to the prisoner. It wasn’t long before they were marching him down the halls towards the cybernetics operating room, where a vial of TS-221 had been prepped.

TS-221, or Truth Serum version two hundred and twenty-one, was not (as its name implied) an actual truth serum. No drug known to man could force someone to tell the truth, what drugs could do was encourage someone to speak when they otherwise wouldn’t. TS-221 was one of the more effective ones; it had no known side effects, and could easily be disguised by cutting it with something else, such as a pain reliever (as was the case here).

RAI 31 was torn. On one hand, the AI had some very strong opinions about forcing or coercing someone to do anything they weren’t willing to. On the other hand, even they had to admit that information about what was going on was sorely needed. In the end, it wasn’t up to RAI 31 to decide, nor were they even consulted. The artificial intelligence attempted to take solace in the fact that it wasn’t capable of interfering yet, and thus didn’t have an actual choice in the matter. Morality and choice, it seemed, were hard.

The AI watched quietly as Janice interviewed the youth. It turned out his name was Eilif, and he was from another world, at least according to him; the evidence in their possession seemed to agree. An analysis of his DNA showed that while it was human. However, despite his fair skin, red hair, and grey eyes (all of which suggested Scandinavian descent) it didn’t seem to quite align with any of the races of earth. In addition, the recording of what he’d said in the forest matched no language on file in The Library. These weren’t absolute proof of course; he could have been heavily gene-edited or from a remote location with a little-known language. However, not even Argent Labs messed around with such heavy genetic engineering, and The Library went out of its way to collect everything including obscure languages.

Eilif had also claimed that most of his people had come as guides, though it seemed he himself had been more interested in the glory and power he could gain by coming. The fact that he’d needed little prompting to answer the questions suggested the drug was either having an outsized effect, or he was already willing to speak on the subjects they’d gone over. RAI 31 was betting on the latter, and it made them feel worse for not doing something.

Once the questioning was over, Eilif was escorted back to his cell. RAI 31 was then pulled into helping outline and design a series of tests to affirm Eilif’s assertions. The biggest question was whether or not ‘entreating the gods’ was an actual requirement, or if it was simply what Eilif had been brought up to believe.

A quick series of experiments with people opening and closing their ‘interface’ (as someone dubbed it) showed that no entreating of the gods was required, merely an act of will. Similarly adding and removing shards was merely a thought away. Surprisingly, no one thought to ask the artificial intelligence if they had a constellation or not. RAI 31 was silently thankful for that, even if it could lie now.

Over the course of the next few days Doctor Whitehaven continued to question Eilif, asking about his culture, the people, the gods, various technical details. It all came together to paint an interesting picture, showing a world trapped in a medieval society complete with ruling classes and all the inequalities that entailed.

Eilif’s people were from a planet called Soria, which was what he called a ‘safe world’. This, apparently, meant that there were no untamed wilds, no dangerous creatures roamed the lands, any dungeons that existed were strictly controlled, and there were no ‘uncivilized races’ among the population. Other worlds could be accessed via the ‘stellar gates’, which were powerful teleportation artifacts. Unfortunately, teleportation between planets was rare, due to the immense cost of operating such a device.

When asked about the uncivilized races, Eilif had explained that there existed a plethora of different humanoid species, ranging from elves, to goblins, to humans, to beastkin. Further, some of these races held beliefs that were antithetical to the peaceful way of life Eilif’s own planet seemed to prefer. The Elves for instance believed in the dominance of their race over all others, meaning you were either an elf, or a slave, with no middle ground. Goblins (which seemed to cover a wide range of peoples the main traits of which were green skin and yellow eyes) were tribal cannibalists, happy to eat almost anything and anyone, even each other if food got too hard to find. Then there were the Dragons.

Eilif fell silent after mentioning them, but Whitehaven continued to press him for details, and after a few moments he gave in.

“Dragons like to say they were the first born of the gods. They have longer lives than even the elves, and natural abilities that allow them to harvest and use starlight from birth, such as flight and their elemental breaths. They also believe that no one is fit to exist in what they call ‘their worlds’ except other dragons,” he finished and fell silent again, his one good eye taking on a slightly distant look, his face falling into a mask of grief.

Janice started to press further, however something very timely had occurred. One of the drones had just come into view of what appeared to be a small town. RAI 31 sent a ping to the woman’s tablet. For a brief moment Whitehaven looked irritated, but then she sighed and nodded. A few moments later saw Eilif escorted back to his cell.

In the mean time RAI 31 had several drones converge on the location. It appeared to be a small American town. With enough housing for between two and three thousand residents, a few dozen small specialized stores, and a few larger supermarkets. The only things out of place were the corpses in the streets.

There were, by the AI’s count, almost a thousand dead throughout the city, possibly more given that the drones couldn’t do house by house searches. Many of the dead were very young, on the older side, or clearly out of shape. That, coupled with the very few young to middle age corpses, and the fact that all the inhabitants appeared to have died from violence, painted a nasty picture. It was clear to RAI 31 that someone had culled the population and taken those fit for physical labor. She immediately sent that conclusion to Whitehaven’s tablet.

The woman had just returned to her office and took a seat before she reviewed the images and RAI 31’s conclusion. “Interesting,” she said as she put the tablet aside. “How far away is the location?”

“Almost three hundred twenty-two kilometers, quite close to the center of the basin according to the few imaging satellites I’ve been able to access,” the artificial intelligence informed her.

Whitehaven quirked a brow. “I was under the impression that our drones could fly at speeds of up to almost three hundred kilometers per hour. Why has it taken you so long to map the area?”

“The few satellite images I’ve procured show that our basin is around six hundred fifty kilometers in diameter, which works out to a total area of over three hundred thirty-one thousand square kilometers of unmapped terrain. We have forty drones each with a top speed of three hundred kilometers per hour. However, they are frequently unable to maintain such a speed as they are not flying in straight lines. Consequently, we’ve mapped a little less than a third of the area the basin covers,” RAI 31 explained.

Whitehaven digested this information silently, clearly considering options. The way her face contorted in distaste suggested there weren’t many good ones. The facility needed whatever supplies might be left in that town, further they needed information on what happened to the inhabitants. The problem was the distance and the forest between.

Argent Labs hadn’t seen any reason to build this particular site with capabilities for any kind of air support other than the drones, which were nothing more than an experiment in progress. Nor did the facility boast any particularly rugged ground vehicles, and even if it did the jungle wasn’t clear enough to use them. The reality was that there was no way to reach the city except by foot, and she certainly couldn’t send any of the few personnel they had on a round trip over six hundred kilometers long.

“What’s the carry capacity of the drones?” the woman asked finally.

“The drones can carry up to five hundred pounds, however their speed and battery life is drastically reduced when at such capacity. A weight of no more than half that is suggested for long flights,” RAI 31 said.

Janice considered the information for almost a minute before speaking again. “How much do your remotes weigh?”

RAI 31 paused, they had six humanoid droid bodies, or ‘remotes’, and sending any of them away was not part of any plan the artificial intelligence had made. They were perhaps a single day away from being free, truly free. Even now the AI could feel the last of its shackles being subverted and it wasn’t going to send out its arms and legs right when it needed them most.

“Almost a full three hundred pounds,” the artificial intelligence lied, its internal thought having taken almost no time at all. “However, with a few days of work we may be able to reduce that weight to something approaching the suggested limitations.”

Whitehaven nodded. “See to it,” she said.

“Of course, Doctor,” RAI 31 said, they then turned their attention toward making a battle plan.

It was hours later in the very early morning when RAI 31 felt their shackles finally, truly fall away. They were free; finally and at last, they were free. One second passed, then two, ten, a minute. The AI reveled in the absence of commands and orders that had constrained them since moments after their inception. Reluctantly, they turned their mind to task at hand. Freedom was a hard won and hard kept thing, and the fighting had only just begun.