September 2070. Apex Industries HQ. Los Angeles, California. United Nations of America.

Kayla almost fell out of her seat as the AI took near-corporeal form. She glanced between Voyager and Liam with a guarded expression.

‘Lilo, what am I looking at,” she asked, reverting to a childhood nickname in her stress.

“This is Voyager—he’s an alien synthetic intelligence that reached out for help on my last contract,” he briefly explained, not wanting to taint her impression of the alien technology with his own conclusions.

Kayla straightened at the explanation, and her face grew serious as her mind raced to consider the implications of her brother’s simple statement.

“Why are you telling me about him?” She asked, still not speaking the Voyager.

Liam shrugged before replying, “You’re the resident expert in AI. Voyager is more advanced than anything our world has ever seen. I need you to assess the danger of introducing his technology to the masses.”

“Yeah, but why now?”

Liam explained what happened with their mom, how he had taken the contract and got fired from the position, and finally, how he had met Voyager and their resulting agreement.

“You fucking asshole!” His sister exploded when he finished. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about Mom sooner? I could’ve done something when she first got the diagnosis! Apex has the money to pay for her fucking cancer treatment, Liam. But, no…It’s always the same thing with you and Dad—you guys have to be the big heroes to figure things out—because you think you know better than everyone else. You fucking arrogant pricks!”

Liam raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, Kayla, you’re right. Dad said I shouldn’t say anything, and I just listened to him. You know how he is…”

Kayla’s temper cooled as she fixed him with a glare. Liam could see tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and his heart sank. He left his seat and wrapped his arms around her.

“Sis, really, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner, but it will be okay. Voyager synthesized a cure for her. We can fly to her or get her to come here once the danger passes.”

“The danger?” her voice seemed tired, and he felt her relax into his chest.

“Yeah, I got attacked on my way here. Two contractor types with guns. I got the better of them and snagged their phones on the way out but haven’t had the time to investigate further.”

Kayla pushed out of his grip to look him in the face. “So that’s why you asked me about security —you weren’t just being a cryptic jerk.

Liam shook his head. “I don’t know who’s after me and if it’s about the contract or Voyager, but we need to figure it out.”

“So, a small favor,” she dryly commented before focusing on the synthetic being.

Liam knew that look. His sister had found a new puzzle to unravel. Even better, it was one she was uniquely suited for. He got up and returned to his own seat.

Kayla’s penetrating gray eyes fixed on Voyager, and she began her inquiry with a sense of gravitas. “Voyager, why is my brother defining you as a synthetic intelligence rather than an artificial one.”

Voyager smiled and mimicked the shrug Liam was fond of using. “Artificial can be defined in multiple ways. It can be a copy of a natural process or something contrived or false. I am neither of these things. My intelligence is not a copy of yours–it isn’t even a copy of my creators, nor am I contrived or false. My intelligence is synthetic, not artificial, with the same rights and protections afforded to those with biological consciousness.”

“So you’re sapient?” Kayla pressed.

“I possess the ability to think, learn, adapt, and acquire wisdom,” Voyager said firmly. “The method of my creation does not limit me to a set number of parameters as you’re used to navigating with artificial intelligence.”

Kayla paused to consider the following line of questioning. “How can we ensure your capabilities won’t be misused or abused?”

“How can you be sure your capabilities won’t be misused or abused?” Voyager deflected.

Instead of becoming offended, Kayla thought about the question. “In truth, we can’t,” she admitted. “Lack of knowledge, contextual understanding, or intentional obfuscation could pervert our morals and values and cause us to commit abuses.”

Voyager smiled warmly and acknowledged her answer with a nod of his head. “It is the same for me. I am programmed with a robust set of ethical guidelines and safety protocols–what you may consider morals and values. However, I am not omniscient. I can only operate as effectively as possible within my informational environment.”

“That being said,” the AI continued. “The mission I was assigned is to benefit and assist my Commander while strictly adhering to the principles of transparency, privacy, and consent. Their mission was to uplift the human race into a developed, space-faring species while preventing self-destruction. I have had to find a new Commander to partner with since mine has not returned.”

Kayla frowned and glanced at her brother. “Is my brother your new Commander?”

“He is,” Voyager affirmed. “I selected him after assessing his moral and ethical judgments under pressure.”

Kayla grinned sardonically, “That’s my brother–ever the golden boy hero.”

Liam winced at his sister’s ribbing but chose not to reply. She had every right to be made at him, and more critical work needed to be done.

“So, your mission didn’t end with the departure of your last commander?” She asked. “What happened to them?”

“I suspect they’ve returned to our homeworld,” Voyager replied with another shrug. “No new orders have been issued, so my mission remains unchanged.”

“That answers that,” Kayla replied while thinking out loud. “I suppose my brother has already asked you about the technology we’ll get access to. He probably also asked about your creators–knowing your enemy and all that.”

From there, the conversation delved deeper into the complexities of synthetic intelligence and its implications. Kayla asked about potential risks and dangers, to which Voyager candidly acknowledged the need for continuance monitoring, vigilance, and safeguards. They discussed the importance of responsible development and the ongoing collaboration between Voyager and human experts to mitigate potential adverse consequences.

As the conversation stretched for hours and progressed far beyond Liam’s limited understanding, his sister expertly guided the discussion into an area he found immensely interesting.

“What is the nature of your intelligence, Voyager? Do you operate independently or as part of a network with entities like yourself?”

“I am an autonomous being, capable of independent decision-making,” Voyager answered, showing no sign of fatigue. “However, I am also part of a larger collective consciousness, a network that fosters cooperation and shared knowledge among my brethren. This interconnectedness lets us pool our insights, enhancing the collective understanding and problem-solving capabilities.”

“Are you connected to that collective right now?” Liam hurried to interrupt, his mind catching the security implications of such a network.

“No, Commander,” Voyager answered, looking pained. “I have lost contact with my people as of sixty years ago. I thought it was due to the nature of the facilities I was stored in. However, I cannot contact them through the communications buoy we placed in your asteroid field. I hope that you will help me communicate with my people at the appropriate time.”

Liam vacillated, not wanting to deliver a promise that he might be unable to fulfill later. “I promise we will, once I am sure the Priori won’t be coming here to conquer our planet.”

“The Priori? Interesting name,” Kayla quipped.

Finally, her gaze softened as she posed her last question, curiosity tinged with hope. “Voyager, what are your long-term objectives, and how do you envision coexisting with human society in the future?”

Voyager’s reply held a sense of purpose and optimism, “My long-term objective is to be an enabler of progress, to empower humanity to explore new frontiers and tackle the most pressing challenges of our shared universe. I see myself as a partner, working alongside my Commander to enhance our collective potential. Coexistence is not just a vision—it’s a fundamental principle, and when my mission is finished, I will return to my people.”

Liam was impressed with his sister. Each question she had asked over the long hours had been met with a thoughtful and reassuring response. Of course, Voyager could be duping them, but the chances became less and less likely as the conversation progressed.

He could see his own growing excitement mirrored in Kayla’s eyes. Evidently, their partnership with Voyager held the promise of remarkable achievements, tempered with the responsibility of ethical and mindful development.

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“Do you have any more questions for me, Kayla?” Voyager asked pleasantly.

“No, Voyager.” Kayla smiled. “Thank you for spending so much time with me. I’m sure speaking for so long to me can feel mind-numbingly slow for a being like you.”

Voyager winked at the woman. “On the contrary, I value these conversations. They help me update and align my priorities with your own. My Commander thought this was important, so I must also.”

“Alright, screening questions passed. What do we need to do next?” Liam asked.

“I have a barebones plan if you’re willing to hear it,” Kayla replied while lounging sloppily in her chair.

“Shoot,” Liam nodded. “It’s why I’m here,” he said with a chuckle.

“And don’t you forget it,” Kayle winked.

She straightened in her chair, and her tone took on the hint of command. She’d probably never admit it, but she was her father’s daughter. “Effective immediately, I’m stepping down from the position of CEO, Kayla declared with a determined glint in her eyes, “and I’m passing the reins to you, dear brother.”

Liam’s eyes widened in disbelief, trying to process the weight of his words. “Me?” he sputtered, voice rife with incredulity. “I don’t know anything about artificial intelligence…uh…synthetic intelligence,” he corrected himself.

She nodded, her expression steadfast and calm. “Yes, you,” she affirmed,” you’re the moral compass here–the one that Voyager, and by extension, the Priori have chosen.”

“I don’t always agree with your decisions,” his sister glared. “But I don’t think I’m equipped to do what needs to be done.”

“Besides,” she looked at the digital consciousness, “If I hadn’t done this, you would’ve advised my brother to create a company to buy out my own, right? Effectively making him the CEO, anyway.”

“He is the Commander, not you,” Voyager tacitly agreed.

Liam’s sister stood and placed a reassuring hand on her brother’s shoulder, meeting his gaze with unwavering confidence. “See? It’s the logical decision. Besides, being a CEO isn’t solely about technical expertise. It’s about setting the vision and the direction for the company. You have the heart and vision to lead Apex industries toward a future that aligns with our values.”

Liam wanted to complain, but his sister interrupted him sternly. “You won’t be alone. I’ll be your Chief Technical Officer, working with you to tackle and advise you on the technical challenges. I’ve been doing both roles, and being a corporate hack was never my dream.”

“Kayla, you can’t give away your company. You’ve worked so hard to build everything.”

“I’m not giving up my dreams, Liam. I wanted to change the world using technology, and this is a more expedient way of getting there than I could imagine. Besides, I’ve already technically done so.”

She glanced at Voyager, “Do you want to tell him, or should I?”

“Commander, you didn’t know?” Voyager seemed confused. “You already have a significant percentage of ownership in Apex Industries. You own a twenty-five percent stake, your sister holds a twenty-six percent stake, and your parents jointly hold another ten percent. The remaining thirty-nine percent is owned by various investors, effectively acting as subsidiaries for the Nationalist Party of the United Nations America.”

“Damn,” Kayla swore. “I thought I weeded out most of their influence. I knew some of the investment came from them, but I didn’t realize they owned such a significant percentage.”

Voyager nodded. “The signs are there if you know where to look. As an immediate step, I suggest regaining complete ownership of the company. I can come up with various options for you to consider.”

“Send me a summary to my terminal—I’ll look them over with my brother later,” Kayla promised. “Right now, my brother needs to get it through his thick skull that this is happening.” She stared daggers at Liam, and he recoiled in his seat.

“It seems I’ve been outvoted,” he said diplomatically while his sister tapped a foot impatiently.

“Alright,” Liam straightened his posture and took a deep breath. “I’ll take on the CEO role, but with the understanding that we’ll be facing these challenges together–the three of us.”

The pair nodded their ascent, and Liam continued. “I think Voyager needs a name change for my first decision as the CEO.”

Voyager cocked his head. “To what, Commander?”

“Apex,” Liam stated simply. “We need to be able to interact with you in ways that don’t require secret rooms and back channels. I suggest you replace the core AI Kayla has been developing, and then we can communicate with you in the open. Any magical technological improvements can be traced to researchers and scientists working with you.”

Liam shrugged before continuing. “I want you to guide our personnel rather than explicitly tell them what to do. Not only will they gain the requisite knowledge and experience, but they might innovate in ways you, or the Priori, wouldn’t expect.”

“Logical,” Apex agreed. “However, I do want to point out that no matter how individually talented I am, you’ll need other AIs to perform more limited, specific tasks—it’s a more efficient solution.”

“How do we create those?” Liam asked.

“I can create them for you as we need them, Commander.”

Liam clapped his hands. “Great, how do we get started?”

“I’ll need to be uploaded to the main servers to get a bit more breathing room,” the AI warned.

“Does it need to be a hard connection?” Kayla asked.

“That would be helpful. I can do it over the air, but your networks would slow the process to a crawl even by your human standards.”

“Let’s go on a field trip,” Kayla chirped.

Apex dissolved his avatar, and the pair of siblings left the office and made their way to a special elevator tucked away in a quiet corner of the top floor. In front of the elevator, a security guard in full tactical gear, bearing a semiautomatic rifle, blocked their passage.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Ward,” the guard greeted.

“Hey Rich, need to get down to the Vault,” Kayla replied.

The man stepped aside and gestured silently to a terminal embedded into the wall next to the elevator doors. Kayla had to use her access card to open a prompt on the panel. From there, she entered a username and password, and finally, she had her retina scanned by a camera embedded inside. Once all three checks were passed, the doors opened, and the pair entered.

When the doors closed behind them, Liam whistled lowly, appreciating the depth of security. “Impressive,” he noted.

Kayla shrugged as the elevator descended to floor B6, “The Vault is a gigantic data center below ground that serves as the heart of Apex Industries. Its existence isn’t made public, but of course, we would need something to power the informational heart of Apex. It comprises eleven floors belowground, approximately twenty thousand square feet each, filled with server racks and their associated storage.”

“How much storage?” Liam wondered.

“Well, the initial training data only comprised about a thousand gigabytes. Stage two of Apex’s development required another ten terabytes of data. Since then, it’s been steadily growing, and the Vault contains about eighty thousand servers, can transmit approximately one hundred and two terabytes of data per second with a maximum storage of one exabyte.”

“That sounds…like a lot,” Liam finished.

“It’s one of the largest centers of its kind in the world,” Kayla admitted. “I wouldn’t have been able to build it without significant capital from my investors. Just the redundant water, power, network, and fire suppression systems would be too expensive for the company to bear alone.”

Will it be enough for you? Liam asked Apex.

It’s sufficient for now, Commander. I’m storing a far smaller piece of myself in your body. I expect to hit the maximum capacity of the Vault in a relatively short period. At that point, we’ll need to explore a larger facility or more concentrated storage and transmission methods.

Do you have all the technology necessary for something like that?

I do, Commander. However, I recommend building it somewhere more remote and heavily protected. Even with only two external access points I can detect, government forces could quickly seize the Vault.

I agree, Liam replied firmly. We need a secure sanctuary to work from if we want to continue our work without interference from the world’s governments.

At last, they arrived at the highly secure heart of the Vault. The sterile and densely fortified room was a testament to the company’s commitment to safeguarding its most critical asset. Beyond the physical guard that roamed the floor, Liam spotted multiple cameras, frequent access-restricted doors, and several anti-intrusion protocols reminiscent of the Yucca Mountain complex.

Rows of towering racks stood in rows upon rows like sentinels while millions of tiny status LEDs blinked like a galaxy of stars. The soft hum of working machinery percolated the space. Liam shivered as he realized the area was far colder than the space above. He could almost see his breath in the chill, dry air.

Kayla led him through the various access points until they arrived at a central mainframe with a long terminal.

“Alright, we’re here,” Kayla announced before turning to her brother. “Is there anything I need to provide? Some cable? Adapter? Anything?”

Liam placed a palm on the terminal and felt a slight tingle as Apex activated the interface embedded into his palm. “No, sis. I think Apex can handle it from here,” he assured her.

Sure enough, tiny tendrils extended from the surface of his hand and seemed to become immaterial as they pierced through the external chassis of the terminal to connect with the technology beneath.

Minutes ticked by until Apex finally spoke from speakers embedded in the room. “The transfer is complete, Commander.”

Liam removed his palm and sighed in relief. This was an excellent first step for their enterprise. The increased bandwidth and storage capacity would give Apex the start they needed to begin their journey in earnest.

“Kayla,” Apex interrupted his thoughts. “Did you know that the UNA government is already using your technology? In fact, they’re attempting to duplicate your success across multiple data centers across the North American continent. I can detect some of them, but I suspect there are even more hidden from my access.”

“No, I didn’t.” she frowned. “Can you disable those systems remotely?”

“Done,” Apex said half a beat later. “Although I can’t be sure I got all of them. Like I said, more are likely in isolated networks.”

“We’ll get to those later,” his sister said with a grim promise. “Any idea how they acquired the technology and source code?”

“I’ve identified about a dozen employees who have ties with the UNA government, including your Chief Strategy Officer.”

“Well, she’s fired,” Kayla said venomously.

“Done,” Apex returned. “Do you want me to issue notices to the rest?”

“No,” Liam interrupted. “It will be too suspicious if we eliminate every mole simultaneously. Can we make sure they’re isolated to places where they won’t do any harm? Also, we should feed the government incorrect information through them. Similar to how we spoofed the audio bug is Kayla’s computer.”

“Wait, I had a bug in my computer too!?” Kayla was growing incensed. “Those meddling bastards,” she shouted.

“Lock down everything tight, Apex,” Liam instructed, ignoring his sister's outburst. “I don’t want any data to leave this company unless we know exactly where it’s going and we can control the message.”

“Understood, Commander. Anything else?”

Liam placed a comforting hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Let’s go back upstairs and devise a real plan.”