In front of me was a tall and large building with black-tinted windows. The windows went all the way up to the top floor, but you still couldn’t see anything inside. Behind it was an even bigger building with the same architecture.

Wearing a dark-green suit and a backpack, I looked around at the area. My eyebrows were scrunched as sweat trickled down my face. I was standing in front of the parking lot. Looking to the right, I saw a sign with three emblems and names.

U.S. Cyber Command

National Security Agency

Central Security Service

Three of the most intrusive and feared agencies in the world. For it’s what you don’t see or know that matters the most. What exactly does the NSA do? Ensure national security? But how do they do that?

Well, one way is through contractors like me. Ones that have vulnerabilities in computer systems and sell them. A sketchy business sure, but a very lucrative one.

With a small smile on my face for what was coming next, I began walking towards the entrance. For such a big building, the door was average sized. It blended in well with the rest of the exterior.

As I walked in, I couldn’t help but feel some sort of anticipation. I saw several people in black suits eyeing me as I walked into the building. On their waist and in clear view were guns.

“Stop kid.” One of the men nearby said. “What’s your name?”

“Zackary Zephyr.”

He opened up a nearby computer next to me and looked through all the appointments. When he got to my name, clicked on it and a photograph of me opened. He took one look at it then turned to me.

“Take off your backpacks and extend your arms.”

I did as I was told and placed my backpack in a bin. I extended my arm and he began to pat me down. He waved a stick that detects any radio waves for recording devices. Once that test was concluded, I was told to walk through a metal detector.

“From this point onwards, you are considered to be in a highly classified facility. Any disclosure of any information will be regarded as a leak of state secrets and you will be charged with treason,” he repeated quickly and robotically. “Am I understood?”

“Yes sir,” I answered respectfully. Some other people were examining my laptop before nodding to the person screening me. “Follow me.”

He guided me to the hall and through a long series of turns. It was a maze to even get to the elevator.

“So, how does a kid like you get a meeting with the director?” The man couldn’t help but ask.

“Massive amounts of privacy invasion,” I answered as I looked at the floor number display. I was vaguely aware of his eyebrow being raised.

“Surely you’ve heard weirder.” His face returned back to normal with a small nod. The elevator dinged and the doors opened. The man slowly guided me to a room with a big door. Engraved on the door were the words director and Howard Swartz.

The man went to the side and pressed a button. A buzz was heard and I saw him whisper something into the machine. After a while, he nodded and opened the door.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

As it parted, it revealed an old man in a black suit. His desk looked like it was just cleaned off and was completely clear.

“Zackary! How nice it is to finally meet you,” The man greeted me warmly as he gestured me to go towards the seat.

“Likewise Mr. Swartz,” I said formally as I sat down. When I saw his focus shift to the guard, I channeled my kleptomania and quickly took a pen off the desk and slipped it into my pocket discreetly.

“I must say that I never expected Project Archer to be finished,” he said. “I give you my condolences for your father’s passing.”

My heart fluttered. The night that I found out he died quickly flashed through my mind with a high-pitched buzzing. It brought me a somber feeling. But this wasn’t the time to show it.

“Thank you for your words,” I said quietly before regaining my composure. “But let’s get to business.”

“Of course,” he said. I took out my laptop and opened it. I positioned it in a way that we could both see it.

“As you know, Project Archer was designed to be a completely autonomous mass-surveillance system. It was designed to be able to track citizens.”

The director nodded. “I must confess that I thought Project Orion would be a better name.”

“Heh, it was the original name. However my father found out I was terrified of the legend and changed it.” I slightly reminisced about that moment.

“Scared of a myth?” He questioned.

“People are scared of the boogeyman,” I defended before clearing my throat. “But we’re getting off topic.”

“That we are,” he agreed.

“So anyways, I’ve drastically improved Archer’s capability. There’s a completely automated system that can install malware onto all cameras connected to the internet and send their feed for processing.”

“You can use the feed from any camera?” He asked, astounded. “H-how is that even possible?”

“It’s a new proprietary technology,” I answered vaguely. My life would be insufferable if anyone else found out that I made a self-improving AI. And the world too, I guess.

“I scraped the web for some pictures of U.S. citizens and gave it to Project Archer to track them. Here are the results.” I moved my cursor around the files of some people.

“This is a path of the route this man took,” I said as I clicked on the map button and lines with his route were traced. I clicked another button and it instantly connected to a nearby camera. The man was in clear view, completely unsuspecting of the complete invasion of his privacy.

“This is the holy grail of surveillance,” he muttered with a voice filled with shock.

“Well this is just a proof of concept,” I admitted. “I need more money for servers to deploy it nationwide or worldwide.”

“How much do you need?” he asked. I pulled out several documents outlining quotes from different manufacturers.

“I’m planning on converting an old warehouse into a server farm, and I need to install solar panels as well as cooling systems. I also need a cable installed directly from the facility in LA to a server here. An estimate is five million.”

He quickly skimmed through all the papers. “We could host all this on NSA servers.”

I clicked my tongue. “But then I wouldn’t have any guarantee that you’d pay me. Not only that, but you could just as easily steal the technology.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“The extremely classified agency is telling me that it won’t do anything immoral,” I sassily said. “That is not suspicious in the slightest.”

He could hear the defiance in my voice. “And exactly how much is this going to cost us for access?”

“Let’s make it an even five million a month,” I playfully said. I knew it was ludicrous, but it had served its purpose in setting the bar high.

“You’re crazy,” he said. “Even I don’t get paid that much.”

“So make a counteroffer.”

He thought about it for a while. “Three million a month.”

I was fine getting two million a month. After all, it doesn’t make much of a difference after that.

I stuck out my hand. He looked at it in deep thought before shaking it. “Now I understand that there’s going to be some forms for me to sign.”

He pulled out an NDA and several other forms. I read all of them carefully and thoroughly, and upon satisfaction I signed my name at the bottom. While I was a minor and it wasn’t typically binding, I was legally emancipated.

“Your father was a great person,” the man said. “I look forward to working with you.”

With a somber smile, I nodded my head. Packing everything off, I began to take my leave with a triumphant smile.