City-21 “Kyiv”, UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
The Palace of Sports
Alisa Chernykh, August 12, 2049, 12:01 PM
The room lighting flickered wildly, chaotically alternating between bright and very dim. All display surfaces activated, from the large monitor panels to the tiny screens on the instruments, erupted in a chaotic mix of media snippets, interface elements, messages, and pure static.
Alisa lay frozen on the floor, her body twisted in an unnatural pose. The medbot by the wall was turned off, and Maksim was still unconscious. Gradually, the main lights dimmed to nothing, leaving only the faint glow of emergency lighting. The screens and monitors finally settled, showing nothing but white noise before slowly fading out.
Trying to stand, Alisa’s movements were erratic and uncoordinated, like those of a broken doll. Her first step caused her leg to buckle, sending her crashing to the floor, where she hit her head hard. Forsaking further attempts to rise, she resorted to crawling forward using only her arms, harshly scraping plastic against the rough floor.
Fortunately, the medbot was within reach – just a few meters away. Dragging herself to it, Alisa got there, grabbed the edge of the operating table and, with great effort, pulled herself upright. She opened her jaw wide, ejecting four connectors, then clumsily crawled over Maksim to reach the backup control console.
Traditionally, such manual controls were obsolete, as AI assistants provided seamless operational support. However, for rare critical situations, direct control was preserved. And this was such a critical situation!
Alisa reached the console with one hand, switching the medbot to manual operation. The touch keyboard and touchpad were responsive; visibility of the interface was unnecessary – her familiarity with the layout allowed her to operate by feel.
She activated the “patient awakening” protocol, adjusted her brother’s head to access the interface ports on his implant, and collapsed beside him, her hand still resting on the console.
The bot’s arm moved into position, switching to a syringe, and injected the medicine.
Max convulsed slightly, restrained securely by the setup. Finally, his eyes opened…
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Russian Empire, E77 highway
Near the military checkpoint 21/10, former “Shumilkino” Customs Point
Maksim and Alisa Chernykh, October 15, 2042
The truck made a distinct turn, slightly jostled as it presumably crossed a speed bump, before coming to a halt. The engine’s roar abruptly died down.
Maksim, with a practiced gesture, shut off his tablet, plunging him and his sister into utter darkness. Anticipating the daunting task ahead, the boy had spent the last thirty minutes trying to soothe his nerves. To “unload” his mind by any means possible. The tablet was his final attempt to distract himself, but even that didn’t help.
Despite his efforts, Max’s thoughts relentlessly returned to their ongoing escape. The last legal exits from the country for ordinary citizens had been closed by the Great Emperor back in 2039, and with the recent imposition of a global military state, the situation had only deteriorated. The border was completely sealed off, fortified with minefields, gas lines, combat drones, and military robots – a deadly barrier impassable by ordinary civilians.
For the Chernykh siblings, however, a breakthrough came via connections from their father, enabling them to link up with trustworthy individuals from the MSF mission.
(Note: MSF stands for Médecins Sans Frontières, an independent international medical humanitarian organization.)
Unfortunately, that was the extent of their luck. MSF was the last humanitarian mission still active within the Empire. But it too had been banned, forcing its staff to hastily leave the country. Moreover, the doctors were forbidden from evacuating even those who were terminally ill or severely disabled.
To make matters worse, upon departure, all vehicles were meticulously searched at the border, and scanners designed to detect contraband made smuggling impossible. However, the military police were not on the lookout for goods; they were hunting for people. There was absolutely no chance to conceal a living person.
But as they discovered, concealing a dead individual was still feasible.
Cryonics technology had been known for a long time, with the first cryopreservation taking place back in 1967. Over the years, considerable effort had been invested in developing the process of freezing and, conversely, reviving cryopatients. Yet, cryonics had never become widespread – the risk of a negative outcome was still unacceptably high, despite all the scientific efforts.
Despite the very real risk of death, Maksim and Alisa had decided to take a chance.
The siblings understood the potential for fatal outcomes. But, after thinking things through, they’d decided that the dangers of cryopreservation were preferable to certain death in one of the concentration camps – arrest warrants for the children were issued immediately after their father was executed.
There was no chance of survival in the camp – boys as young as sixteen were sent to the front lines. The Emperor preferred to conserve equipment and used humans to clear minefields or breach gas defense lines instead. The fate of the girls was even more horrific...
Moreover, the threat of nuclear strikes grew more tangible by the day.
“And here we are, on the last MSF road train departing the country.”
Alisa had drifted into sleep as they drove, and Max, aware of the looming changes, gently touched her shoulder.
“Wake up, Sis. It looks like it’s about to start.”
The door from the cab to the cargo area swung open, letting in a bit more light.
“We’ve arrived, kids, it’s time. Unless you changed your mind?” One of the drivers entered, clad in a field uniform with red-and-white MSF patches.
“No,” responded Maksim promptly, though inside, he was in terror.
“I must warn you one last time about the risks. The thawing process isn’t always successful.” Max felt Alisa’s grip tighten on his hand. “If you want to back out, now’s your chance. Beyond here, the route is fully monitored.”
“We’re ready. Proceed.”
“There’s no turning back. And there can’t be.”
They exchanged a knowing glance, Maksim nodded, and squeezed Alisa’s hand back.
“Here we go, Sis. It’s time. I wish I believed in some deity.”
“We’ll make it through. I’m sure of it. We have to.”
A medic walked in.
“We have three minutes, kids. Hurry to your stations.”
Obviously, both siblings had been preparing for this escape, and they were familiar with the cryonics process – having studied all the information they could get. The mission doctor had also been reassuring and responsive to their inquiries. Even now, as he prepared for the procedure, he didn’t just work in silence but explained each step.
“Firstly, this injection. It’s a specially tailored mix of anesthetics, optimized for each of you individually. You’ll fall asleep shortly. Once the anesthesia sets in, we’ll hook you up to a ventilator and begin the cooling process, injecting preservatives into your bloodstream simultaneously...”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
They didn’t hear the end of his speech. Their eyelids drooped involuntarily, and just before consciousness slipped away, Maksim could only think one thing: “It’s going to be alright. It has to be.”
Did he dream at all? Probably not… But after some time, he abruptly awakened to a voice speaking German,
“Welcome to state Germany, my boy.”
“We did it, Alisa, we made it!”
He tried to ask something, but only a hoarse whisper emerged.
“Don’t rush, all is well. Here, have a drink.” The man handed him a glass of some bright-green liquid.
Max gulped down the medicine, unable to taste it.
“I need to ask! I need to ask right now!”
“My… sister,” he managed to whisper hoarsely. “Where is she?”
“I’m sorry… we did everything we could… But…”
Until that moment, Maksim Chernykh hadn’t known what real pain was.
To come so far, to endure such hardships, and in the end…
To lose everything.
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State Germany, Dresden
Alisa Chernykh, February 2043
“It’s pitch black here. So utterly dark that it doesn’t matter whether my eyes are open or shut... Wait... can’t feel anything. Are my eyes open?”
“Do I even have eyes?”
“Do I have a body?”
“How long have I been here?”
“Where am I exactly?”
A shift occurs in the surrounding emptiness.
“It feels like I’m sensing something. It’s a familiar yet forgotten sensation from the time I’ve been here.”
Something changes... evolves...
“Was that a sound? And now? Seems like a flash of darkness in profound blackness... No, wait! I see something! There’s definitely something forming! Here!”
The darkness around her gradually lightens, revealing vague and blurred outlines.
“Unbelievable! It’s incredible! Finally, I can see something! After what seemed like endless hours? Days? Years? How long have I been trapped in this void?... Still can’t feel my body, can’t change what I see, but I CAN SEE!”
“There, Alisa, you’ll soon be just like the real…”
“A familiar voice that’s so dear to me! That’s… Maksim!”
“I often think about what to say first when I can… I’m not sure you will forgive me… We shouldn’t have taken such risks. No, I shouldn’t have risked your life!”
“Maksim! I’m here! I’m alive! Alive!” A blurry shape appeared in front of her. Maybe that was Maksim.
“I understand it all logically, we had no other choice back then. You don’t know, Sis, but the war is over now. It was brutal. Very bloody... But the Russian Empire which killed mom… dad… you… it’s gone now. You can say we’ve won… And… I miss you so much…”
The smudge before her eyes was moving and doing something. The image jittered occasionally but didn’t get any clearer.
She could only listen, unable to take any action.
“You know, Alisa, even if people say I’m crazy… I still believe you can be brought back! It might take years, but I’ll do whatever it takes, no matter what the cost! Especially since I have a general idea of how to proceed. I’ve... got everything Dad talked about...”
Just as suddenly as it appeared, the image went away. Once again, she is left with nothing but a boundless black void.
“NO! Maksim, save me! I don’t want… I’m… I’m terrified of being all alone again!”
“Hmm… Strange… I guess I underestimated the system’s complexity. An eight-core Artel CPU isn’t up to the task. And, by the way, why was the image so blurred? Weren’t these supposed to be good cameras? Well, shutting down for now.”
The darkness shifts again, deepening, erasing all sounds.
“Processor? Cameras? What's happening to me? Am I in a robot’s body?!!”
Alisa didn’t know how much time had passed since her “awakening.” Once again, she was enveloped by an endless, mutable darkness that had changed so many times she’s lost count. But neither lights nor sounds returned.
“Maksim, I’m scared… Please come back…”
More time passed…
And then there was a change in the void again. Light burst in suddenly, this time providing a much clearer view – a small, well-lit room with light-colored wallpaper. To the left, the edge of a bed was visible; to the right, a chair. At the far wall stood a large assembly frame beside a universal workbench. In the corner, a chair held some small items, indistinct and out of focus.
Unfortunately, she still couldn’t control her sight. Every attempt to blink failed.
Suddenly, the image flickered – dimming briefly, then brightening, the contrast shifting as color disappeared and reappeared several times. The world jolted and swayed – her eyes began moving on their own. Alisa didn’t control them, but she felt their movement and watched the scenery change.
To the left – and up. The motion was jerky and blurred, slow.
To the right – and up. This movement was smoother and slightly quicker, sharpening the image.
To the right – and down. The speed increased, the blurring nearly gone.
To the left – and down. A fast, smooth movement, everything sharply in focus.
“There we go, kitty, that’s more like it. Much better.” Maksim’s voice came through.
“Sound is back!”
Someone came into view. The eyes took a moment to respond, but eventually focused.
“Maksim! What has happened to you?!”
He appeared shirtless, possibly completely unclothed from what she could see. His face was the first thing she noticed – swollen, pale, with cracked crusts on his lips. Plastic tubes from an oxygen catheter were fixed under his nose. His left eye was a bloodshot red, the right one covered with a bandage. His head was shaved, a few wide band-aids on it.
“Alisa, I’m back…” Maksim said, his movements exceedingly slow and cautious.
His neck was secured in a plastic collar, with broad strips of elastic bandage across his torso.
“So, we made it! We must be in Europe.” Alisa realized, noticing the marks from what seemed to be recently installed implants. “I remember dreaming together about having all sorts of implants, the coolest and most powerful ones, once we got out of Russia.”
“It looks like our dream came true, at least for you. I guess they allow implants from age 16 in European states, but isn’t that incredibly expensive? Where did you get so much money?”
“Anyway, I don’t even know how much time has passed. What exactly happened to us? Max looks aged, even has forehead wrinkles. But maybe it’s just the aftermath of complicated surgeries...”
“I know you can’t hear me right now…” It seemed to Alisa like Max was stroking her hair, but she couldn’t feel anything, unsure if she even had hair. “But I miss you so much. I just want to see you again… to hear your voice…”
“I can hear you, Maksim! I… I’ll wait and definitely tell you everything! Everything I didn’t get to say before and now. Just don’t blame yourself, please …”
Maksim leaned forward and grabbed a massive universal controller.
“Can you believe I’m still working the old-fashioned way, just like at home?” A slight smile crossed his face for the first time in a long while. “The implant in my left eye hasn’t settled yet. And they haven’t started on the sub-brain; they'll only begin mapping the basic neuro-cartography next week.”
“We have a long road ahead. Before I can restore your identity, I’ll need to create an appropriate vessel for you.”
Maksim turned around and partly disappeared from view. Nothing happened for some time, only a hum and clicks filled the air.
Suddenly, Alisa felt as though she was on a rapidly spinning carousel. Her vision blurred as she involuntarily tried to blink... and succeeded!
“I closed my eyes! I did it myself!”
“Ah, there’s a reaction! Excellent… well, not really. Sixteen processors aren’t enough for a brain either. What the…” There was a hitting sound. “Shit! The calculations were supposed to work out fine!”
“Maksim, don’t! You’re doing great!”
“Think, think, you dumbass! Where did this bullshit on the monitor come from? As if she’s running a Type 9 in her head, not a Type 5! The data exchange is simply colossal! None of this was mentioned in dad’s materials...”
(Note: T5, Type5 is a classification of power/autonomousness of an AI. It goes from T1 to T10+++)
“Maksim!” Alisa tried desperately to open her eyes. Gradually, it started to work. A tug, another, and she managed it!
“It’s no use, huh, kitten?” Maksim asked, holding her face in his hands.
“If I could, I’d cry again…”
“We'll get through this! Honestly, I don’t have money for a new Artel. I'd need at least a 32-processor AI-Core9 or higher…” Maksim released Alisa’s face, backing away with a deep sigh. “Truth be told, I'm totally out of money.”
Maksim raised his hand, as if moving to scratch his head but, touching the bandage, realized that wasn’t a great idea.
“It’s not all bad, though. I received a social grant for professional adaptation since obtaining German state citizenship, plus a sizable educational loan and UBI payments. That was enough to equip a workshop far better than the one we had back home.”
Maksim gestured somewhere out of Alisa's sight. Her eyes were slowly starting to obey her, but she couldn’t fully move them yet. So, unfortunately, she couldn’t see where he pointed.
“So… hang in there. Let’s pretend like you didn’t die but simply fell asleep, okay?”
“I’ll endure everything, no matter how scary it gets. Max believes in me, and I believe in him! I don’t remember what happened to me after I sat in that chair in the truck… But I guess… I really did die. At least that’s what Max believes…
I don’t know how and why, but it seems like I ended up in an android’s body… How is that even possible?
Who – or what – am I now?
And what makes you so sure you can revive me?”
“I know I didn’t start this wild chase and spend all my money on hardware and implants for nothing. Cryopreservation of your brain has been paid for twenty years, but there is no technology yet to thaw and revive it. And there probably won’t be. In fact, it's technically dead… We need to transfer your consciousness to a digital medium.”
“So that’s what you’re planning, Big Brother! To finally bring to life our parents’ work… You won’t just revive me! You’ll also revive the cause our parents gave their lives for! If I could, I’d cry again!”
“The hardware situation is bad though, I’m trying to implement dad’s scheme, at least the basics. But the best I can fit into an OHR-based android is an Artel. Even if I find the money for a thirty-two-processor brain, even if it’s the latest available on the market AI-Core 10, I’m afraid that won’t be enough… Actually, hmm…”
“Maksim, you’re mistaken! Why can’t I give you any advice?! It’s so simple! There’s no need to stuff the whole brain into an android, robot, or a bot. It’s a civilized country, nobody jails people for life for using cellular communication!”
“Oh, sis, I just realized how stupid I’ve been. We can handle all the ‘subconsciousness’ logic on stationary computers! That way we can use a full-fledged quantum core instead of just a chunk of it like what Artel has. By the way, that’s probably where my problem lies…”
“Nice one! I believe in you!”
“All right, let’s try to work out a scheme…” Max got up and disappeared from view. “I’m gonna have to shut you down. Not that it’s working right now, anyway.”
“I’ll wait, Maksim… I definitely wait!”
All sound vanished.
And complete darkness came once again.