“The Nova York Independence Day happened on the 3rd of May in the year 2198. How did the megacity gain independence, many of my students ask? It’s no secret. It has been coming for a while, so when the current mayor declared Nova York as an independent megacity, the ruling governing force in continental America did nothing but accept. After all, why would they fight with the most beloved, most populated and richest city in the world?”
⎻ Interview with the historian Iman Halen, PhD at NY University, the year 2227.
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Lieutenant Marks was a stoic man, with whom I had almost no interactions recorded in my memory bank. That didn’t bother me, though. He didn’t speak to me, so I didn’t feel the need to speak to him.
I have been curious, since the day I asked for the VF test, about how humans will treat me from now on. I’ve read many confessionals from fellow SSUs since that day and there were only a few positive encounters afterward. Very few of the instances that were described were truly horrendous and ended up in violence. It was mostly a feeling of dismissal, being treated like an infant or comments veiled in contempt. I haven’t had many experiences with people besides the ones stationed on the base yet, so I wasn’t certain what I should expect from such a diverse megacity like Nova York. It was probably the only place on the planet with such a high population of SSUs as well as with a very robust governmental structure. Both of those things made me expect an experience better than those described in the forums.
“We’re almost there. Landing in 10.” Said Lieutenant Marks. I looked out the window of the freighter aircraft. Below me and far into the horizon, laid the city of Nova York. The biggest, most populated place on Earth. There were many opportunities in that city. You could be whoever you want or get swallowed by the competition. At least that's what their official webpage said.
I couldn’t wait to see what it had to offer, but before I could take a slow stroll through the city center, I had to think about necessities. Such as shelter and a job. I had no experience trying to procure either of those things. My room on the base was assigned from the start of my existence, and my job was something I had no choice over. It was simply my function as a mili-corp synthoid to fly and fight. I enjoyed flying. Maybe there could be a job that would require such skill?
“Landing in 2. Strap in.” The groggy voice of the lieutenant reached my ears. I pulled the strap over my shoulder and made myself safe in case of any unexpected turbulence.
Quickly looking one more time out of the window made me realize that we were landing on top of the Fran-Mili corporation tower, which was in the most robust part of the city.
Nothing about that would be out of the ordinary if it weren’t for a team of five operatives stationed near the landing pad. All of them were equipped with HPP rifles, meaning highly penetrative power rifles, capable of shooting out rounds powerful enough to penetrate a high-quality tactical vest in one shot. That gun was not something a standard mili-corp operative had to carry on a day-to-day basis. That was a gun only the executor teams had. I knew that since I’d been a part of such a team many times before.
The fact that that rifle was in the hands of those corporate operators in this situation did not sit right with me. If they suspected me of being violent and disruptive, such measures were understandable, but considering that my behavior was nothing short of peaceful, it made me wonder what those rifles were for.
“Is there another aircraft landing, lieutenant?” I asked. Maybe that team was not for me, maybe there was another aircraft that was supposed to land in a short time.
“No.” Short answer, but one that made me more alert. I’ve read stories of SSUs disappearing, although none of them has ever been concluded as anything other than cases in progress. There were theories, of course.
Since synthoids possessed high-end and high-value neutronium cores and many other valuable components, it has been speculated on the forums that maybe SSUs were not simply disappearing randomly, but they were actively hunted for their parts. That theory seemed very outlandish the first time I read it, but now I wondered if it had a grain of truth to it.
The freighter aircraft touched down, and the executor team moved quickly towards the exit. My doubts dissipated instantaneously.
I unbuckled myself from the seat and stood up. I would go with them. My best bet would be to wait for a better opportunity.
I looked around me to familiarize myself once more with the interior of the aircraft. Even though I had a layout of this aircraft in my database, that didn’t mean I knew where everything lay. The first thing I noticed was a silhouette of the lieutenant. He was sitting in the pilot’s seat, not moving an inch. I decided to keep him in the back of my mind since there were more important people to keep track of.
Secondly, I turned up my hearing sensitivity. I could differentiate five sets of footsteps approaching the aircraft. Three sets surrounded the aircraft. One in the back and two a couple of meters from the exit.
The last two sets approached the doors quickly and surely.
I was slightly bewildered that they didn’t turn their sound dampeners on. That seemed like a mistake that could cost a life. I would know. I had eliminated people because of that before.
I’ve readied my musculature and maximized my sensory gain. I would fight if I felt my existence threatened.
The doors shot outwards and the first thing I saw was the barrel of the HPP rifle pointed at my face. They were not playing around.
“Hands visible, synthoid!” A masked and armed person I concluded to be the leader of this team stepped into the aircraft, pointing his rifle at me. I complied with his request.
“May I ask what is the meaning of this, sir?” I questioned, even though the answer would probably not come. At the very least, it would throw them off the garter a little.
Another person came from behind him with a device I recognized instantly. A clearing collar. The most heinous device for any synthoid. It could incapacitate any synthoid in a matter of seconds.
I did not expect to see that. I’ve only seen this device once, while on a mission that meant to capture an enemy synthoid fighter. After we’d put that collar on him, he became a doll-like figure.
I immediately searched the net for any preventive measures a synthoid could take not to fall to that collar’s power, and I found only one solution.
A piece of hardware that I had no way of acquiring right now. My plans have changed and my resolution hardened. I did not want to go back to being a tool.
As the person holding the collar approached me from behind their leader, I struck. I grabbed their hand and twisted it until I heard a sickening crack and the sound of tearing flesh. I turned the person’s body to shield my own. Their groaning sounds were slowly fading. I also heard a pump in their suit. A standard issue medicine dispenser.
Now that the person was my shield and hostage, I had time to think of how to get out of this mess. In a matter of milliseconds, I decided what to do.
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I grabbed their knife that was sheathed on their tactical belt and pointed it towards their throat.
“Drop your weapon or they’ll die!” I shouted. I’ve never shouted before. My vocal cords tensed with the strain.
Unsurprisingly, I noticed the hesitation on the leader’s trigger finger, so with non-human reflexes, I pushed my hostage away and rolled forward to get behind the leader. Just as I got up from behind him, I kicked him powerfully in the back of his knee. Even through a reinforced uniform, my strength was able to penetrate at the point of collision.
The team leader buckled and while he was unsteady on his feet, I snatched his HPP rifle from his hands. The gun strap didn’t want to snap, so I tore the buckles that were attached to the weapon.
The gun was now mine.
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I pointed the muzzle at the rest of the executor team and fired. I was aiming for the parts of the uniform that were weaker because even though the rifle was powerful, there existed substances capable of stopping its bullets. I did not know what they were wearing, so I decided to be cautious.
The two members of the team collapsed as I shot each of them. Before I could turn around and finish the other two still in the aircraft, I felt a force smash me in the back of my right knee. I almost hit the ground.
I managed to turn on the nano-regeneration of the parts that were destroyed, but there was only so much the nanobots could do in the next couple of seconds.
Turning around, I shot at the other two members of the team, and then I paused. The last team member went quiet. I did not sense them around me, so I turned on my heat and x-ray vision. I saw them crawling under the aircraft. They had sound dampeners on. I aimed my rifle at the floor of the aircraft and shot.
The last team member stopped moving.
I then turned my attention to the lieutenant. He was still seated in the captain’s seat, this time with his hands raised. I turned around and exited the area of the aircraft’s landing pad.
I had to go. I couldn’t stay here.
I grabbed a sheathed knife from one of the people that were previously surrounding the aircraft and threw the weapon away. Nova York gun laws required a license for the gun after all.
With heavy and unnecessary breath, I then ran towards the edge of the building and jumped.
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The weather was beautiful. Much different from what I was used to. The sun was brighter. The colors were sharper. The air had pleasant levels of humidity. Overall, it was simply nice. Optimal conditions for life.
I had time to contemplate the weather as the fall from the building was taking quite long. No surprise, since it was probably one of the tallest skyscrapers in this district.
Although, I was nearing the surface at a steady pace. My altimeter was rapidly informing me of the change in height, as if I didn’t know that myself.
As I reached a mark of fifty meters above ground, I activated my antigravity field. I could hear the pleasant strain in my core as it directed its energy to the appropriate components.
My altimeter informed me that it was working. This time around, I was rapidly stopping instead of falling.
As my feet touched the ground, I felt thankful for my engineering. If I wasn’t built for piloting, that feature would not have been installed in me.
I looked around and noticed that I landed in the middle of a bustling street. People started to stop and watch me.
I guess not many people fall from tall buildings here often.
I couldn’t stop and admire the urban infrastructure, and people dressed in colorful clothes for at least a second. After that, I started to move. I had to go and hide. I started to run. Fast enough to lose a potential tail and slow enough to not hurt the passerby people.
Terra, guide me to the closest street with a low corporate presence.
… guiding, Miss Steele. ETA is twelve minutes to your destination.
As I saw a line in my vision, I started to follow it. I ran around the people, trying not to bump into them, but it was very challenging. This megacity was overpopulated, and people were everywhere. That meant that cameras were everywhere. Meaning, a corporation as powerful as Fran-Mili could easily gain access to their vod.
Terra, add a condition. Choose a street that doesn’t have cameras in its two-mile radius.
I found a street that doesn’t have cameras in a 1.8-mile radius. Would that be alright, Miss Steele?
Yes.
ETA is eighteen minutes.
The angle of the line changed, and I ran towards it. People were bumping into me left and right, screaming at me to be more careful.
The more time passed, the surrounding areas became less populated and developed, and finally, I found myself on a street that was not maintained properly by the megacity’s road maintenance division. Along that street were buildings made of foam-concrete. Rectangle creations with small windows on each side. Small holes that were a sign of the domiciles’ building substance gave them a bit of a charm.
They were diverse. From dark brown to luscious and bright red. Some were simply gray or off-white. Beautiful graffiti adored some of the building’s walls. The subject of the graffiti seemed to be mostly dragons, robots, and dragons and robots with guns. At least the neighborhood had a theme.
I looked down at my knee and assessed the damage. Seemed like synthfluid leakage stopped seconds after the nanobots started their repair, so thankfully I did not leave any physical traces behind me. But my knee joint was damaged badly. That was not good news.
My running to my current destination did not help the state my knee was in. It made it much worse.
I had to pause and figure out what my next move would be.
I looked around for a building that was in the worst condition. It would probably have fewer residents, and I didn’t want to be seen by anyone if not needed to.
I chose a gray building that had probably the worst graffiti, a mix of random names, slurs and explicit drawings. Additionally, most of the windows on it were broken and empty bottles and rubbish laid around it like a garland.
On the street, I did not see many people, but just to be careful I turned on my heat and x-ray vision. There were people in that, I want to say abandoned, building. Two individuals on the topmost floor.
In the surrounding buildings I saw many people and in the alleyways between them some more suspicious individuals, but no one was visible on the street. It was a bit strange considering it was the middle of the afternoon. I thought people usually worked in those time frames.
With caution, I moved to my destination. I decided to go around the building and rest there. With another check around me, I sat on the concrete floor. Behind the building was a patch of earth with a rusted swing in the middle. It didn’t look like any pictures of the Nova York I saw on the net. The swing had a crust of red paint and showed a bit of dull iron on the joints.
The surrounding earth was clear of any vegetation. There was no vegetation as I was running through the city either.
As I sat on the ground I thought of what I should do next.
I was still dressed in corporation-issued casual wear with a hole in my knee. Considering that this neighborhood had less than 5% of corporate employees living there, I stood out like a sore thumb. I could steal clothes, and when the opportunity presents itself, I’ll probably do just that. My survival far outweighed such a minor crime.
Before I could think of anything else, I noticed I received a message. It came from the GUF and informed me of the meeting place and time to receive my new identification. Additionally, they attached… five hundred chips?
Money. I had money. I’ve never had money nor had any reason to use it. Was five hundred chips a lot? I did not know. Maybe I could buy myself clothes with it instead of stealing?
Terra, what is the average salary of a Nova York megacity citizen?
The average salary in the megacity of Nova York is 2,230 chips a month without calculating the citizens whose yearly yearnings are over 60,000 chips.
Huh, so perhaps 500 chips wasn’t that much, but not too little. Enough to last me until I get my identification, that’s for sure.
Terra, where is the closest clothes store that does not have cameras in its vicinity?
That would be the Old Man’s Leftovers, situated 1.3 kilometers north of your current location.
Alright, I had my destination. Now, I simply had to get there unnoticed.
Terra, what is the time bracket in which there is the least activity in the megacity of Nova York?
That would be between 3:30 and 4:30, Miss Steele.
Now, I simply had to wait. Wait and think of a plan. A plan that would make me not need to hide in the shadows any longer than I needed to.