City-21 “Kyiv”, UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion

The Palace of Sports

Maksim Chernykh’s Team, August 12, 2049, 12:32 PM

Maksim took one last look around the room, double-checking for anything he might have missed.

“Not sure how long Dasha will need to reprogram Nikola’s core, but let’s assume half an hour to an hour at least. That means it’s about time we made our move. The question is, how? Right now, we’re both pretty much incapacitated...”

“Nika, how’s it going?”

“Hanging in there. Sucks to be left with just one leg, and even that's barely responding. Hate being so defenseless. Feels like a kid again!”

“You had a bad childhood, huh?”

“Don’t even ask.”

“But I’m curious! I want to get to know you better,” Max smiled. “But there’s no time for that now. We need to figure out our exit strategy, find some gear, and ideally, a decent firearm.”

“I get it,” Redhead replied, turning cautiously to face him. “Let’s get acquainted. But I’m afraid I’m not exactly at my best right now.”

“You know,” the guy waved dismissively, “right now, all of humanity isn’t exactly at its best. Duh, we’ll make it through. Could’ve been worse!”

“Really? You’ll have to tell me sometime, what could be worse than this.” Nika managed a cautious sit and gestured towards the door.

“Sure, I will,” Maksim assured her. “When the time and place are more conducive. You know... I have a rather forward question for you.”

“Go ahead,” Nikola raised her eyebrow in surprise.

“How much do you weigh without one leg?” Max nodded towards the bot with the inert body of the android.

“Well, if it’s just me minus a leg...” Nika pondered. “about seventy kilos, I guess. Planning on substituting me for Alisa? What do we do about her then?”

“We could try to fit her into the side mounts and secure her with straps; there are suitable ones here.”

“Nah, that doesn’t sound good.” The girl shook her head, her red hair swaying. “It’s risky, and I don’t want to be a burden!”

“Got any better ideas?”

“Maybe. You’re a robotics engineer, right? Ever dealt with cyborgs?”

“Not directly much, but I’m well-versed in the theory.” Maksim shrugged. “Any reason you’re asking?”

“I’ve nearly dragged my other leg to the room... It’s actually quite close, just behind the door. The automatic system shot it off, but I have a ‘hot-swap’ feature for limbs. If you could patch up this little paw…”

“Yeah… I guess you’re right, that changes everything!”

“Guys, I’m here,” Dasha cut in. “Nika, we’re ready for a soft reboot. If you’re lying down, better stay put.”

“Sitting now, but I can lie down, of course,” Nikola replied as Max adjusted the camera to capture the scene.

“Ah, good, I see. Yeah, fall back onto the workbench, just in case. By the way, I also found the problem with your leg’s software. It should work fine after the reboot.”

“I’m ready.” Nika carefully reclined on the workbench.

“Just a moment, Dasha,” Maksim chimed in. “Can I disconnect the smarts briefly after the reboot command and then restore connection in, say, a couple of minutes?”

“Sure, the access authorization won’t expire in that time. But wait for my signal. I need to first confirm that I’ve disconnected Nika from the external network, and the AI of Protectorate has lost its connection. What are you planning, by the way?”

“Well, I want to go pick up Nikola’s leg to see how damaged it is. If we can get it even partly operational, it will significantly boost our mobility. Otherwise, we’d have to drag them along with Alisa, using a bot that’s not equipped for such load.”

“Understood. Nika, we can proceed shortly… just a bit longer. Alright, starting the reboot! Max, you can disconnect the cables, I’m on standby.”

Nikola’s body slumped, muscles loosened except for her eyes, which on the contrary began blinking and twitching more frequently. And all of that was accompanied by intense sensations in her head. A soft reboot, if done “quick and dirty,” was always a jarring experience. Yet, as always, Redhead bore the pain silently, her expression betraying nothing.

Once assured that she was lying stable and not at risk of falling, Max quickly disconnected the cables. He then turned and steered his “supercar” toward the door. “Nikola said her leg is just behind the door, let’s hope she’s right.”

Peering cautiously into the corridor – thankfully empty. If a creature had been lurking by the door, it would have been over for him. The leg was indeed nearby, just ten meters from the door. His chair screeched forward; braking abruptly by the target, Max leaned out, seized the leg, and, spinning, dashed back with his prize.

Nikola was still groggy from the reboot, and Dasha was busy with her tasks, so Max didn’t immediately reconnect the cables.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Instead, he decided to extend their length – there was a surplus on the racks, and he found more than enough suitable connectors. Linking the devices was quick work.

“Hey, WonderSweety, it’s ready. The cables are in place.”

“Yeah-yeah…” the girl gave a scattered response but quickly snapped to attention with a shake of her head. “What, it’s ready? Great. Let's proceed! Did you retrieve the leg?”

“Yep, I’ll check what can be done now.”

“Good, don’t connect anything until I say. I still gotta work on the core. Nika, up and at ‘em, wake up!”

“Ugh.” Nikola sat up on the workbench, rubbing her temples. “That was harsh.”

“Sorry, the rush.” Dasha scoffed a bit grumpily.

“No, it’s okay, I’m not complaining. Just still coming to my senses.” Nika waved off apologetically. “Oh, the interface’s back!”

“Don’t connect to any networks yet, I haven't finished!” Dasha quickly reacted. “Cthulhu clearly has a soft spot for you; barely scraping through, but we made it!”

“Umm… then, hail to Cthulha, I guess!”

“Well, he doesn’t need praise, he’s asleep.” Dashka laughed. “Okay, enough chatter! I’m fixing the brain, Max, you handle the leg. Let's hustle!”

“Aye, aye, your Great Dark Ladyship,” the young man said, smirking. He approached the workbench and secured the leg in the clamp. “Alright, I’m on it!”

This banter was clearly a psychological shield against the stress of the situation. It really wasn’t a time for laughter. They were forced to grapple with unfamiliar and complex technology under almost field conditions, without the help of smart-assistants or the active support of the workbench.

Before the Protectorate’s virus attack, all modern machines possessed some level of intelligence, many quite sophisticated. Even a T2 with a decent database would have been helpful now. But alas, humanity had suddenly been stripped of significant technologies deeply embedded in every facet of civilization.

“I think the full impact of the catastrophe will hit us gradually. Sure, monsters from the portals are terrifying, but we were braced for that, thanks to the mass culture. The real blow was losing all the ‘smart’ devices, and numerous assistants. For some, relationships with ‘digital personas’ had become deep, even personal…”

Lost in these somber reflections, Maksim set to work on the cyber-leg. The problem was that the “CL-P1 Blades” model was strictly corporate and not open-source at all. So yes, the extranet provided a good and detailed user manual, but that’s it.

Neither university libraries nor Max and Dasha’s personal archives had the necessary schematics for such a specialized device. Their team hadn’t had cyborgs, especially corporate ones, up to that point, and androids were built on different principles.

“Well, let's see,” the guy mumbled to himself as he peeled off the damaged armor plating made from flexible reinforced plastic from the thigh. “Hmm... thoroughly wrecked. Nika, tell me what happened and where these damages came from?”

“In short, Watson-CyberTech practically sold me into servitude to the Protectorate, lock, stock, and barrel. I refused, of course. They hacked my core and threatened me, ‘Show up in thirty minutes, or it’s the end for you’.”

“On my way here, I had to contend with a monster. Picture this – a mantis, but juiced up on steroids, as big as a decent car,” Nikola said, her hands painting the air with her words. “It had bone ‘scythes’ for weapons on its front paws. I could have handled it one-on-one, but the Protectorate messed me up by cluttering my vision with their blasted notifications, so I couldn’t dodge in time. The strike hit my thigh, jamming the scythe. When the creature tried to pull free, the automatic systems kicked in and shot off my leg. If diagnostics had been operational, I’d have more to tell.”

“I see, enough for now.”

Her story coincided with what Maksim saw on the workbench. The blow had struck her thigh’s front section where the radiator plates overlapped, likely slightly ajar. The force had drilled through the fuel block – fortunately, the leg’s synthetic muscles were not completely destroyed; most should still function.

Nikola attempted to activate the diagnostic tools again, but as expected, it was futile:

“I just tried to run a diagnostic check – nothing, it’s dead. Looks like the Protectorate did a thorough job cleaning out my system, kurwa, and they’ve even cut down Marcek!”

“Is Marcek an AI in your core?”

“Yeah. He’s like a big brother to me… was.” Redhead sighed with sadness.

“I can’t restore Marcek,” Dasha chimed in; apparently, she’s been listening attentively to their conversation. “They’ve thoroughly purged your system, including the personality matrix of your AI.”

“Świetnie, kurwa!”

“But I can offer an alternative. Oh… if only Moira was online…”

“Dasha, what’s the problem with booting up Moira,” Max suggested. “When we’re safe, of course? We can just set up her connection only to TACTA’s extranet. They can’t be restricting the channel that much.”

“That might work; I need to look into it.” The girl shrugged. “It’s been chaos the last hours… there’s no time to even manage your natural needs, much less read manuals! Yes, you got it right – this poor child doesn’t even have time to vape in peace!”

“And you’re that ‘poor child’, huh?” Maksim raised his eyebrow.

“Sure am!”

“And you didn’t steam yourself enough before the elevator, did you?”

“Uh... yes! No!”

“Guys, sorry to interrupt. But if it’s not secretive, what’s Moira?” Nika joined in.

“Our AI, a T10. She’s also Alisa. It’s complicated, I’ll tell you for sure. But later.”

“An AI. A ten one, no less. Held by college students. Well, that's ordinary, right?” Nikola reacted with a nervous chuckle. “And here I thought Warsaw was an advanced hyperpolis. Yet, we don’t have level ten AIs available to… umm… guys, and who are you exactly?”

“We’re a robotics lovers’ club!” Dasha giggled sarcastically. “And Moira’s more than just a simple T10 AI!”

“We really are students, Nika.” Max offered with his most innocent and trustworthy expression.

“Just a ‘simple’, kurwa, ‘T10 AI’…” Nikola exhaled deeply. “Holy shit, you guys. You’ll tell me next that your android has an AI with a personality matrix from a real living person!”

“Well, it’s you, who just said it.” Max retorted with a chuckle.

“How is that possible? Where’s the main computing center? That’s forbidden, isn’t it?”

“Yes, forbidden. And illegal too. ‘A.M.I.’ on the tail and so on. And, unfortunately, it’s not from a living person – it’s from someone deceased. Don’t ask; it’s my pain, not yours. The main hardware is back at Kyiv Polytech. We need to get it out soon – that’s our major task for now.”

“We’ll manage unless they kill us all first,” Dasha added grimly.

“I just can’t fathom it. Where in the hell do you get such technologies from, kurwa?!” Nikola folded her arms and stared at the guy.

“Well, think of it as a mix of parental heritage and tremendous amounts of our own effort. Mostly, this little WonderKid’s effort.” Maksim replied, gesturing towards his mediaphone displaying Dasha twirling a vape with Hamlet’s eternal question: to vape or not to vape.

“Max, it’s nice to hear you praise my brains, but really, this project is mostly built on the legacy – yours, the Chernykh family’s. And don’t downplay your and Alisa’s contribution to the work, either.”

“Hold on, did you say parents? The Chernykh?” Nikola interjected, shocked. “You mean Sergey Chernykh, the Russian professor and Nobel Prize laureate in Neurophysiology and Cyborgization?”

“Yes, he was my father.” Maksim confirmed with a nod. “Sadly, all the accolades and achievements didn’t save my family. My parents were executed, and Alisa and I had to flee the country.”

“So, Alisa is your real sister?”

“Yes.”

“But she’s an android!”

“It wasn’t always like that.”

“Oh… sorry, I think I get it…” After a short pause, Nikola nodded. “You guys are fucking awesome! Hell, I’m with you!”

“Welcome to the team.” Maksim smiled back.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what we are,” Dashka purred contentedly in the mediaphone. “Well, Nika, get ready mentally, another soft reboot in a couple of minutes. We’ll sort out the software later. Luckily, they didn’t manage to install any ‘harm’ stuff on you... which is also... good.”

“I’ve got a full backup of all necessary software in a secure cloud,” Nika said grimly. “Just wish I did back up Marcek too…”