City-21 “Kyiv”, UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
The Palace of Sports
Maksim Chernykh, August 12, 2049, 12:02 PM
The last thing he remembered was how he counterattacked Emilio’s combat robot. He had nailed the final acceleration, mentally preparing to congratulate himself on a perfect tactical combo…
And then, suddenly, he was thrust into an unexpected flashback… For some inexplicable reason, the face of deceased Alisa flashed before his eyes… Why now, after all this time?
Right after learning of his sister's death, Maksim had her brain cryonically preserved on his insistence. Her body was cremated in a sealed coffin and her ashes interred in Dresden's municipal cemetery. The Chernykh siblings had no living relatives, especially not in left in the state of Germany. And the boy had no acquaintances in Dresden, so the ceremony was simple and quiet.
“And I couldn’t even see her dead body! At the memorial, I refused to let them open the casket because I’d sworn to bring my little girl back to life, no matter what! And the body… well, is just a body. To me, Alisa was and remains alive, back and now, even if…”
“Hang on. Where am I? My head is throbbing, everything before my eyes is blurry… A wall in some dark room… Why is it so hard to breathe?”
Maksim tried to get up or at least turn on the side, but he couldn’t. His arms? Tightly pressed to his body and restrained. Only his hands could move.
Realization hit him.
“I’m lying down… Somewhere. The shirt is unbuttoned, my pocket feels empty, I can’t check… Some straps on my forehead and chest; they are the reason I can’t move…”
The headache receded slightly, only to come back – much stronger and now throughout his entire body. The pain wasn’t sharp or pronounced, but it was everywhere… Except for his legs. Realizing he couldn’t feel anything below the waist, Max checked with his fingertips – his legs were there, still in place!
“Odd sensation, I’m touching them, but… no, I feel nothing! Am I paralyzed below the waist? Spinal fracture? What’s happening to me?!” Concentrating was profoundly difficult; his head responded reluctantly, humming with noise. Yet, with considerable effort, he managed to summon the AR interface. “What in the world is going on here? A series of mediaglyph stacks! Goddamn stacks, not mere notifications!
I must have a concussion, and I’m unbearably sluggish right now, feel like a moron. There are so many mediaglyphs because there’s no status showing connection to Moira. And, consequently, I can’t sense Alisa either. Meaning, there’s no one who could do initial analysis of incoming information…”
At that moment, someone’s fingers probed behind his head. Max tried to turn, but of course, it was in vain.
The touches ran down his neck and – click! – someone released the first interface implant fastener, then the second… they were about to open the ports! Maksim didn’t realize that immediately because fasteners are usually released with both hands simultaneously.
“Wait! Someone wants to connect directly to my sub-brain? Nah, can’t be! You can’t connect to somebody else’s sub without the owner’s authorization!” Meanwhile, the stranger fumbled, clearly confused with the fastener.
“Who the hell is that? Why’s he so clumsy? Got butterfingers? Plug in already, my one-handed friend, let’s see who you are!
One, two, three connectors – wow, he’s slick, planning to storm in using four threads? Good luck with that, pal. You won’t get far!”
The fourth plug connected.
The stranger acted ruthlessly; bypassing standard authorization, they sent a system request to receive the full master signature.
“Really now? Go ahead and try. I have only one additional master record in my database. And that’s certainly NOT you.”
“Alisa?!!!”
A window with a lengthy message unfolded before his eyes:
# Message start
“Sorry, Maksimka, things are bad. No time to get into details. Don’t try to talk to me, as my body is just an empty shell on basic autopilot right now, which purpose is to reach out to you, give you this message and shut down.
I was subjected to a serious online attack. I had to offload my consciousness to Moira under the ‘Atropos’ protocol, Dasha took over next. There was no opportunity to discuss anything with her or leave a message, but I’m sure she’ll have shut down Moira using the ‘Hel’ protocol because the attack is too severe to handle with our resources.
After offloading, I’ll wipe my memory and initiate the formatting of the CSF structure; the body will turn off automatically when everything’s done and the autopilot has executed the objective.
So, don’t worry about me! However, I’m afraid, things will be difficult for you. Firstly, about your condition – you have a spinal fracture, everything below your waist is paralyzed.
You’re on a standard semi-automatic medbot platform. You can’t move because of full immobilization, but I’ve released the arm restraints. Once you regain consciousness, you can remove the remaining straps yourself. Then you’ll be able to sit up. There won't be any pain; I’ve administered a complete 'freeze' to the lumbar region.
Keep in mind that the medbot can no longer assist you; its controlling AI has been wiped by a virus. But if you manually switch it to the chair mode, you’ll have a decent means of mobility.
As for the current situation:
An invasion from outer space – sounds insane, right? It all started with portals that unleashed monsters. I've mapped the new portal openings by time and probability (I’ll explain later!). I began creating a geo-targeting app to monitor the nearest risk zones based on real-time location, but didn't manage to finish it. I'm sending you what I've got so far.
Besides monsters, we're facing another threat – the so-called UNSA Protectorate. They’ve already taken the reins of everything on Earth, including corporations. The extranets, along with the entire IT infrastructure, are under their complete control.
The Protectorate’s assault was the reason we were forced to reset the android and deactivate Moira. Their regulations require that all advanced AIs be placed under direct control or be destroyed.
NOTE! I’ve miraculously managed to deflect the first strike of the UNSA's techno-virus. I was able to temporarily suspend it and successfully prepared for a safe consciousness unload. Moira is intact, she just needs a reboot. I think she's still secure because the only way they could get to us is physically, and hopefully, they haven't pinpointed Moira's location yet.
I’ve attached the last log. Once you’ve finished reading this, take a look.
Another thing: everyone’s sub-brain got hacked, likely yours is no exception. Unfortunately, I couldn’t verify this without waking you up. When you reboot, check it. There's probably a pile of rather unpleasant messages when you start up. Study them, consider how we can use it to our advantage. We didn’t earn our freedom only to be slaves again!
The Protectorate destroyed all software based on T4 and below, so your Sub would've been thoroughly cleaned and directories purged. But the entire protected part, including all the software designed for Moira and securely encrypted, is safe, I'm sure of it. They didn't get access to Moira!
I assume you should have basic programs left that aren't linked to various assistants and AI-modules. Your mediaphone should still work. As far as I know, the Protectorate has the extra-nets totally wiretapped, but communication is still possible – just be as paranoid as usual – it turns out, you were always right to use only encrypted communication channels.
Dasha… should still be at the uni. She's alive since she connected during the unload, and likely safe because she's accessed the cameras and can avoid the monsters. Before I went offline, we agreed she would load Moira onto a platform and drive a truck to me. I had called an appropriate vehicle, and it managed to reach the university before they started shutting down all AIs.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Also, here’s a contact. Get in touch if you can. Her name is Nikola, she’s a cyborg with extensive combat experience. She might help you reach the hospital. She has a jailbroken Watson CyberTech core, military type, my guess is that she’s been actively involved in underground fight clubs. In the current situation, having someone with genuine combat experience on your side is invaluable.
That’s it, sadly. I don’t know what to do next. You’re currently at the stadium. I’ve patched you up to the best of my ability, but if you get to the hospital (here’s the tag), you’ll need surgery; to install a neural implant that would resume the spinal function. The challenge is that the doctors, if there are any alive, will probably have their hands full already, if there’s even anyone alive there, and all AIs below T4 would have been disabled. There might have been more powerful entities at the hospital, obviously, but we all are facing big trouble at the moment. The attack wasn't just against me.
If you get hold of a neural implant for the lumbar region and a surgery surgical with consumables, I can perform the operation myself; Moira has all the needed data.
No time for more details. I’m scared to fall asleep… as you know…
Please…
Come for me…
Love… you…”
# End of message.
The connectors snapped off, disconnecting from the interface ports, and the connection ended.
Maksim tried to move his arms, succeeded this time – the straps binding him loosened. He finally managed to release the clamps and remove the restraints, first from his head, then from his chest and abdomen.
“Hang in there, sis! I'll get you out of this!” The young man exhaled heavily, braced his hands, and, with some effort, managed to sit up. Glancing to his left, he saw Alisa’s chassis lying next to him: the android’s head was turned, the mouth open, with four cables stretching out of it toward Max.
“Damn! What was I thinking when I had the ‘brilliant’ idea to implement a universal connection module in her oral cavity with a set of eight double smarts? Functional, sure, but man, it's a total aesthetic nightmare. Alright, focus!” Maksim rubbed his temples. “My head is buzzing, but there’s no time to rest. First off, let’s check Alisa’s log!”
# Emergency protocol log start
010 Parallel process, 2 threads:
020 Thread 1: Infiltration detected in the primary structure of cybercortex module ‘Demon’.
030 Thread 2: Infiltration detected in the primary structure of cybercortex module ‘Angel’.
200 Warning! Critical error! Bridge module structure compromised.
210 Bridge Guardian: Bridge controller forcibly stopped.
220 Bridge Guardian: Forcible uninstallation of Bridge module controller… success.
230 Bridge Guardian: Restoration of structure from protected backup… success.
240 Bridge Guardian: Bridge controller restart. Success.
500 Warning! Global infiltration detected in the CSF structure!
510 Blocking damaged areas… error!
520 Request: Forced reboot of CSF structure…
530 Negative. Action blocked!
600 Forced shutdown. Code ‘Atropos.’
610 Transferring code.
620 Success.
800 MOIRA. CODE ACCEPTED. INITIATING ATROPOS PROTOCOL.
810 Moira: CSF structure unload… success.
820 Moira: Unloading last backup copy of long-term memory… success.
830 Moira: Unloading current active memory state… success.
840 System forced shutdown in 3… 2… 1…
# Emergency protocol log end
“Indeed, this is a crazy situation. Alisa, this time I see your lifeless body. Feels like it’s happening all over again. That dream keeps creeping back into my mind. That damned escape and how it ended… For so many years, I’ve condemned myself every day for deciding to take the risk, despite the slim chances. Of course, back then, that risk seemed justified, as it was our only hope. The war had started, and everyone realized that nuclear strikes were inevitable. Alisa was only thirteen when we decided to escape…”
“Damn, stop this! I'm drifting off. This isn’t a dead body, it’s just an empty shell! And no time for moping, I gotta act. Ugh, my head is still hazy, thoughts jumbled. Must be the aftereffects of the painkillers. Okay, where is the medbot’s controller?”
“Actually, where else could it be if not behind me? But I can’t twist far enough to reach it.”
“I wonder if the designers ever considered that the medbot could be left without AI assistance? Apparently not. Well, that figures. In this time of enlightenment, even mugs and slippers are smart. Who would’ve thought it’d turn out like this?”
“Here I am, ‘drifting’ again. My brain is trying to shield itself, to block out the grim reality. That stupid habit I’ve had since special school. Calling it a ‘school’ is a stretch though, it was the same old labor camp but for kids qualified enough to work in intellectual industries like robotics, bionics, or programming. We…”
Suddenly, the full horror of the situation hit Maksim. Moira is disabled! He broke out in a cold sweat, and a rush of adrenaline made him fully wake up and switch into “combat mode.”
“I cannot lose Alisa again. She might not be a human yet, nor is she just an AI–Type-Ten!”
The young man habitually unfolded a status bar and checked the connection. At first glance, everything stayed the same. He was still connected to ‘Globalcom-Kyiv’ as his primary extranet network.
Scrolling through the quick access panel, Maksim called Dashka. But instead of a response, he only received a message:
# Daria Vasilevskaya is not reachable at the moment. Please try again later.
“I don’t get it, did she get disconnected too? Or only her implants did? Or she’s simply gone off all the networks?”
“That would make sense, though! If all extranets are under those aliens’ control, even standard end-to-end encryption that I normally use for any significant communication wouldn’t be secure enough.”
“Fine, it’s not the end of the world! Well, actually it is, but Dasha and I have long figured out a way to safely communicate under extreme paranoia. Turns out, that wasn't paranoia after all. I'll sort out my mobility issues and try to contact her again.”
After removing the remaining straps, Maksim leaned forward and manually swung his legs off the medbot; Luckily, the side was lowered, so there were no issues there. Slowly pulling his immobile lower body, he managed to edge closer to the console. That thing could only rotate ninety degrees; at least better than being upside-down.
His finger slid over the ‘Quick start’ touch button. The device played a short five-note tune, started humming quietly, and the green status light came on.
“Great. The medbot really does work. I’ve never dealt with a model like this, but that’s why they have universal interfaces for – to easily master any piece of equipment.”
Navigating through the menus, Max switched the complex into the ‘Wheelchair Patient’ mode. The couch vibrated subtly and started to fold in two points with a quiet buzz. The upper section moved up to form a backrest, the middle transformed into a seat with armrests, and the lower part became a footrest.
To avoid falling, he had to quickly shuffle to the center, vigorously helping himself with his hands. Managing without functioning legs proved devilishly difficult! His left leg even got caught, but Max noticed just in time and reacted swiftly, skillfully freeing his leg before it got trapped. Apparently, the manufacturers assumed that the patient couldn't possibly be on the platform during the transformation.
The console beeped and displayed a message that the main structure, the one with the diagnostic complex and manipulators, would be detached in this mode. Essentially, the medbot would split into two, one part becoming the wheelchair. To transform it back, both parts would be needed. But that wasn’t a problem – anyway, in the current situation, the main structure wouldn’t be of use anymore.
“Okay, so how do you even control this thing?” the ‘patient’ thought after the chair had finished transforming. “The ‘push-buttons-with-hands’ approach isn’t appealing to me at all. There’s usually an option to connect wirelessly via extranet or directly via cables. Hmm… I don’t see this little machine on the network. Does it have any ports for smart cables?”
Max thoroughly examined the chair; he found the necessary compartment with connectors and a box for four cables. But it was empty.
“Bummer… What now?”
Raising his head, he looked around the room attentively. Well… as attentively as one could in near total darkness. The dim light barely revealed some mechanisms piled in the center.
“Is this a workshop? A service room?”
“Lights on!” Maksim commanded loudly and clearly. The lighting system, however, blatantly ignored his order. Nothing had changed. But the young man noticed a control panel by the exit, highlighted by emergency lights.
“Let’s try to get some lights in here. If not automatically, then manually.” Max engaged the chair’s drive, and it jerked forward. “Man, a joystick would suit this better than a touchpad! At least they thought to rotate the control panel conveniently. But the chair still moves jerkily, not smoothly like it’s supposed to. Either my hand doesn’t work properly after the injury, or it’s just poor programming. I hope direct connection will make this monster work better.”
He barely stopped the chair by the control panel, almost crashing into the wall. After a closer look, he realized that after the main building’s AI was disabled, only the manual control was left.
Max selected on the screen ‘Quick access – Light Control – Turn on All’.
The overhead light panels came on. So, it really was a service room for drones and bots. No windows, which explained the darkness. It was quite cramped, with a large industrial assembly frame in the center holding an unfinished bot. A universal workbench was nearby, and shelves lined the walls.
He still needed a smart cable, so the guy maneuvered closer, occasionally bumping into things with the chair and scraping the sides – there was so little space that it was hard to move without hitting something.
“Wow, a universal CaTZ-4-based bot. Almost assembled, but with so many modifications, it's barely recognizable. But clearly, it’s Alisa’s handiwork; she loves this platform. I think I should come back to it later and finish whatever she was up to here. It's definitely not for nothing!”
“Thank you, Your Holy Brightness! I think I found it…” Maksim struggled to approach the workbench and to reach the storage rack for smart cables.
He took only one, but an XC adapter was also needed; the chair had outdated connectors. He left the rest of the fourteen standard one-and-a-half-meter smart cables, just remembering that they might come in handy.
Nothing else useful was found on this side of the workbench, so he had to circle around it – if there are cables, there’s bound to be adapters nearby!
“Bingo!” Maksim pulled out a drawer with miscellaneous hardware from a niche. The container was quite heavy, but everything he needed, and even more, was inside – for tech from the last twenty years. A handy find indeed.
Leaning forward, the guy connected the smart cable to his interface implant. Then, he deftly attached the adapter and slid the cover closed over the chair's port.
Setting up the chair's controls took some effort – the Protectorate’s techno-virus had wiped everything clean. Luckily, Max had a rich library of ready-made modules in his mind.
“Yep, it would’ve been so much easier and faster with virtual assistants. Especially in my case, when I had a full-blown supercomputer and Alisa’s powerful AI for one. Well, shall we test it?”
Maksim spun in place, made a forward-backward jerks – whatever the cramped workshop space allowed, and nodded in satisfaction.
“Alright, I’ve secured my mobility. Time to deal with the mediaglyphs and figure out what to do next.”