City-21 “Kyiv”, UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
The Palace of Sports
Maksim Chernykh’s Team, August 12, 2049, 1:46 PM
Nikola moaned painfully, opened her eyes, and twitched, trying to get up.
“Easy, Nika, stay put for now; you’re okay. I’m gonna free your arm and legs.” Max cut the cable tie with cutters and stowed away the manipulator. “Hey, can you hear me?”
“Yes… I’m… fine. Is Dasha around? How’d it… go?”
“All things considered, not too bad,” the young hacker snorted. “I’ve installed a basic assistant for you, aka a universal helper, as promised. It’ll help you move, especially now that your leg is not only in place but somewhat operational. Let’s get you standing, time to test it out!”
“Here, take the cutters, slice the other cable tie.” Maksim handed her the tool. “Can you do that?”
“Just a sec…” Nika rolled onto her side, and with a soft snap, the plastic strip flew to the floor. Using her arms for support, she managed to sit upright on the workbench. After pausing to gather herself, she carefully descended to the floor. Initially unsteady, she quickly found her balance, cautiously stepping and stabilizing herself.
“All systems go, the assist took over smoothly, didn’t let me fall. Dasha, Maksim, thanks a lot!” Redhead expressed her gratitude.
Growing more confident by the second, she tested her range of motion with a few squats and lunges, carefully transferring her weight from one leg to the other. She even attempted a few restrained jumps, hindered only by the cables still connecting her.
“Good! Seems, I’m combat-ready now, more or less. Just need to find some weapons.”
“That’s great to hear,” Dasha concluded. “Max, disconnect the cables. Nika, just so you know – I signed a contract with TACTA under your name. You weren’t planning on going back to those... damned ‘Protes’, were you? No?.. Good. You’ve got a backlog of notifications to sort through when you have a moment. Also, I installed the basic software package, including SnapDrop for calls. It has contacts for me, Max, and Alisa. And just a reminder, you can only use the TACTA’s network, okay?”
“I remember, of course. And... thanks again, really. I’ll connect to the conference now.”
“I’m off just for a sec.” Dasha’s window changed to her avatar. “Wanna finish coding before I fetch Moira. I was almost done when Max interrupted me. Call if you need anything.”
“Got it.” Maksim and Nika responded almost in sync, detaching the smart-cables.
The guy turned off his mediaphone’s camera, and pocketed the device, while Dasha changed her status to “VR” and “Mute.” Seconds later, Nikola’s avatar popped up in the conference; Red had logged in but without video yet.
“Max, do you guys always have ‘first-person view’ on by default?”
“Yes, unless we’re in virtual, like Dashka right now. It feels more natural, and in our current situation, it’s more about seeing the action than faces,” he replied.
“Mm-hmm. Gimme a sec. I didn’t change my eyes – too pricey – but I did get advanced implanted lenses that can do the job.” shortly after, Nika’s avatar was replaced by her live video feed. “Think we’re about ready to move out?”
“Give it ten minutes, tops. Why do you ask?”
“I’ll run a system check in the meantime. Got a mountain of messages from TACTA to sort through, as Dasha warned. Plus, I should really run a diagnostics on these limbs, at least with whatever utilities I’ve still got left.”
“That’s fine. And if you have any questions about TACTA, just ask. Dasha and I are both signed up, downloaded the software. Might be able to help. Need any medical assistance, by the way?”
“No, it’s nothing critical. The cyber-core is running fine, that’s what counts.”
“Based on your looks, I’d never say that. C’mon, take off your shirt and come over here!”
“Stripping on command, huh?” Nikola chuckled, raising her hands.
As she untied the knot, Redhead tried to peel off the torn, blood-stained shirt, but it clung to her back with dried blood. Not immediately understanding, she irritably shrugged, and the slashed fabric finally tore along with her bra straps, causing the front of her bra to sag and reveal her quite impressive chest.
Seeing what happened, Nikola just sighed, laughed, and gave her breasts a few playful swings from side to side. Observing the smooth movements of her nipples, Maksim commented, “That’s quite the sight!”
“Well, it’s not like I did it on purpose. The shirt’s a goner. So’s the bra... Shame, really. It’s uncomfortable without it.”
Nikola removed the torn rags, stepped up close, and turned her back to him.
“So, how does it look? Feels like my back took quite the hit…”
“It’s pretty bad,” Max said, examining the numerous cuts, bruises, and abrasions. “Needs treating, you can see that yourself.”
“See? Oh right, the conference! Sorry, I’ll adjust soon. Yeah… got quite scratched up.”
“That’s what I meant. Alright, we’ll revise our plans – first, need to find a pharmacy and patch you up. You can turn back now.”
“Wanna take a good look?”
“Definitely. And not just look,” the young man replied, starting to unbutton his shirt.
“Think you’re up to it?” Nika turned around and eyed skeptically his crotch.
“Not right now.” Max grinned widely. “But I’m not letting you run around with that bare, wounded back. Here, take this. Let’s get our tasks synced with Dasha and get started.”
He triggered a call signal, and Daria, popping out of the virtual world, responded instantly.
“Max, what kind of debauchery are you instigating here?!”
Oh, right… The young man hadn’t considered that he had been reflexively gazing mostly at Nikola’s lavish chest, while she, in turn, peered between his legs... And the hacker girl, emerging from virtual reality, caught them in a scene straight out of a typical porn-comedy.
“It’s not debauchery,” Maksim finally found his words, “it’s post-apocalyptic boob therapy!”
Nikola gave a smile, grabbing and slipping on a shirt.
“Dasha, I wasn’t planning to steal your boyfriend!”
“Max isn’t my boyfriend, we’re just friends!” the girl retorted quickly and somewhat nervously.
“Well, all the more then. Thanks for the gift, Max,” Nikola said, buttoning up. “Shame it’s about to get all bloody.”
“No worries, We’ll find you a new one,” Maksim replied. “Dasha, Nika, let’s quickly coordinate our action plan.”
Dashka sighed and muttered something indistinct, activating her mediaphone’s camera. The screen showed a displeased girl sitting “Turkish-style” in her chair, surrounded by a dissipating cloud of vapor.
“What’s got her so puffed up, I don’t get it,” Maksim thought, looking at her gloomy little face. “Obviously nobody likes being pulled away from their work… But I called for a reason!”
“Well, fellow unfortunates,” the guy waved dismissively, deciding not to dwell on her issues. “There are three major problems that will soon interfere with us.”
“Troubles never come singly, you know,” Dasha murmured, popping the vape’s mouthpiece in her mouth. “You think there are three, but in reality – there are hundreds.”
“Optimistic as always, Vasilevskaya.”
“It’s called being realistic. Let’s hear your list,” she said, exhaling a cloud of vapor and tucking the vape away.
Grinning, Dasha cracked her neck and slipped her large VR helmet back on. “I’ll keep coding in parallel. Almost done.”
“Okay. First – there’s a curfew at 7 pm! You see how much time we’ve got left.” Max raised his hand, holding his palm in front of his eyes counting down with fingers. “Second – Alisa, Moira, and Nikola are now officially criminals under the Protectorate laws. WonderKid, you and I are as good as outlaws too.”
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“Agreed,” Dashka commented. In the conference, she didn’t just enable a “through-the-eyes” video but a full post-processed scene from her sub-brain, so much of the visual field was taken up by a compiler assembling some project.
“Things will be chaotic for a while,” Redhead optimistically stated as she sat on the workbench, swinging her legs. “Right before the fight, I got a whole bunch of error messages like ‘Unable to establish contact with patrol team,’ and ‘Unable to locate the crime scene.’ It shows they’re aware of the issues and are working on them. I think they’ll have it sorted by morning. That’s the typical military mess, based on my service experience.”
“Sounds about right.” Daria nodded. “The Protectorate only disabled the weaker AI. They’ve commandeered the strong ones for themselves. So, patrols will definitely be out there. And if they’re low on tech, they’ll just use terrestrial equipment. Max mentioned several major PMCs are stationed around Kyiv.”
“That’s correct.” Maksim confirmed, “and don’t forget, they might deploy Antonov’s drones, from the smallest to the super-heavies. There are massive warehouses of ready products just outside the city, and most are military models.”
“Well, and third,” the young man went on, “we, like all the Kyiv residents, left a detailed ‘digital footprint’ up to the moment of the invasion. All our actions have been logged. I’m not sure how high a priority of hunting down AI and rogue cyborgs is for the Protectorate after the curfew... they might not even bother. But I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Mm-hmm,” murmured Dasha, her attention mostly on the work, as she shuffled modules around the compiler’s workspace on her screen. “They won’t let this slide, for sure. All the big data will be dissected and sifted through very soon, pixel by pixel if necessary. At least to catch sneaky folks like us!”
“WonderKid here already got hold of some wheels. We could find something suitable in the underground parking lot as well. Theoretically, it’s possible to make it out of the city in a couple of hours.” Maksim nodded, attempting to pull up a live map of Kyiv’s traffic situation – only to be met with the predictable ‘server not available’ response.
The last time the map was updated was before the mass AI shutdown. Waving it off, the guy continued.
“Traffic services are down. But, even if every route is jammed after the shared vehicles’ AIs stopped, we could still drive on the shoulder or pedestrian paths. No police won’t stop us, that’s clear.”
“No, I disagree,” Daria countered firmly. “I mean, you’re right about the need for camouflage because of the digital trail we left. But fleeing the city? I’m not on board with that. We don’t know what's happening in the suburbs, especially with those shaiszu portals. They cleared them in the city, but what about beyond? There could be hordes of monsters out there! And besides… both you and Nika need a hospital... Yeah!”
“I think Dasha is right,” Red interjected. “We don’t know what’s beyond the city walls, but one way or another, we’re bound to face a fight – if not with people, then with monsters. We need armor, weapons, chemical agents, medical supplies, and transportation. And we’ve both got to get patched up. Dasha looks a bit roughed up too.”
“Look, Nikola, how do you imagine that working out? If it’s about your back, a hospital isn’t necessary. We’ll find a nearby pharmacy vending machine or medbot – I can take care of the wounds myself. The same goes for Dasha, I’ll handle it. I’ve already spotted nearby gear for everyone, weapons are trickier. But there’s a chance to pick something up on the streets. Going to a hospital is pointless, I’m a deserter, you’re basically a criminal. Once we are safe, a robot for fixing my back can be bought from TACTA!”
“Have you even looked at the price of this very robot?” Daria jumped up indignantly. “Do you know, how much money you will receive after this... initiation? Well, I, personally, don’t know! And no one in our world knows yet, there is nothing on this topic on the darknet! That’s it, yeah!”
“Actually, guys, do you know why I really came to Kyiv?” The cyborg girl winked, lifting a corner of her mouth in a sly smile.
“Because of Max, it seems!” Daria quipped.
“Technopolis Kyiv is the top spot in Eastern Europe for underground cyber clinics!” Nikola revealed, ignoring the jab.
“You’re kidding! Why would it be?” Maksim asked in surprise. “Cyborgization is much more prevalent in, say, Germany, Austria, or Belgium!”
“But that’s Western Europe! Their laws are much harsher, and they don’t let the underground operators thrive,” Redhead responded, sitting back on the workbench.
“Okay, what about the State Czech or State Poland then? Or perhaps even the Hyper-polis Warsaw?”
“In those places, every cyber-clinic is under the tight grip of the ‘Cyber-Ethics Commission’ due to endless bickering between the corporate-dominated polis and the state Poland,” Nika shrugged.
“So, you’re suggesting,” Dasha jumped in, “that the corporate high-fliers, not wanting to lose their underground market, shoved all these clinics into Kyiv? All of it – to avoid conflict?”
“Bingo! There’s much I could spill about this industry, but what’s crucial for us is that any reputable clinic here is guaranteed to have at least one professional surgical robot.” Nikola explained, flexing her left arm dramatically, and pointing her index finger upwards with a convincing expression. “Alisa said she could do the surgery herself if we had the right gear. We discussed this already.”
“That changes things.” Maksim responded. “Can you try to reach any of these clinics right now?”
“Working on it.” Red nodded. “Those Protectorate assholes wiped all my programs and contacts, but there’s a backup in the cloud. I’ve got access to it through TACTA extranet already. Just lemme convert it to SnapDrop, upload, and I’ll start making calls. I’ve got all the ‘right’ cyber-clinics in Kyiv listed there. Fingers crossed, one picks up.”
Meanwhile, the compiler had finished in Dasha’s window. The girl dragged the completed program off the screen and closed down the surplus applications. Her VR space flickered, switching to a regular ‘first-person view.’
“Done here, I’m heading out,” Dasha announced, removing her helmet and getting up.
“What were you conjuring, WonderWhiz?” Maksim asked. “I wasn’t watching closely, but that setup looked familiar from afar.”
“That’s because you’ve seen it before,” she replied, closing her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. “I just can’t stand feeling so vulnerable without my Ravens. So, I recovered the Huginn and Muninn’ architecture from the archives and compiled them for a T4+ core, which my sub-brain can handle.”
“Wow, the legendary precursors of the Ravens are back. I’ve always wanted to ask why didn’t you keep them when you upgraded to the next-gen architecture?”
“Honestly…” Dasha sighed. “At that time, I didn't have the capacity to maintain Moira, two Legendaries, and the standard Ravens. So, I had to disable them.”
“Sorry, I had no idea…”
“Because I never told you,” she admitted, rubbing her eyes. “Alright, I’m gonna stop by the storage room first. It should have some decent drones, then I’m off to get Moira. I have the video feed from the security cameras, there are hardly any monsters left at the uni, so I should be back quickly.”
A mini-map popped up on the videostream as the girl was plotting a route through the building’s corridors and stairwells. There really were lots of camera feeds along the way, providing a form of reconnaissance.
Dasha hopped onto the platform, pulled the control interface into her AR space, and the machine ascended slightly before heading toward the warehouse with a brisk pace of its mechanical legs.
“Perfect, the first task – recovering Moira – is underway!” Max contently nodded to his thoughts.
“No dice with the clinics for now! Any of them!” Nikola reported, waving her hands in frustration. “They surely sensed trouble brewing! But how could they vanish so quickly? Never mind, I still have some personal contacts left; I’ll try them next, maybe someone is still around in the city... ”
Nika paced nervously from corner to corner, her fingertips drumming a steady rhythm against her opposite wrist. The room was cramped, and observing her, Maksim, ever the gentleman, edged towards the workbench to give her the space she seemed to crave.
As Redhead methodically measured the room with her steps, a message beeped through from Dasha, announcing her arrival at the warehouse. Jumping off the platform that halted in the center of the vast storage space, she moved towards the racks brimming with mechanical potential.
“Good job, WonderStar! You found them!” Maksim’s voice distracted her, as her eyes danced over shelves stocked with an assortment of drones, robots, and tool racks. “You can’t just cobble together decent flyers on the knee.”
“Mhm,” Dasha nodded. “As planned, I’m taking only the best, about two hundred kilos? The pre-assembled ones?”
“Grab a couple for yourself and set them charging. Take the rest in kits for assembly; we won’t have enough space otherwise. Opt for the industrial models, the ones with fuel cells. Can you get them all, and run the diagnostics for their cores, while we hit the shops?”
“I think I’ll manage… Definitely.”
“Perfect. Just make sure to dump the specs from the control tags into our chat, and I’ll help you pick the right models. And remember, keep it under a hundred kilos; I realized that’s all we can handle.”
“Okay...” Dasha muttered absently, her eyes scanning the shelves, already strategizing how to load everything onto the platform for transport to the diagnostics bay in the main hall.
----------------------------------------
“Yay, I got through!” Red finally exclaimed. “I’m gonna share the call so you guys can hear too.”
A new icon showed up in the conference: “voice call.”
“Oh, Nikki, my shayna punim! Oy vey, I’m getting outta here,” a hoarse male voice responded. “And you should too, by the way. In case you don’t know, less than six hours left to safely leave the city.”
“Zelman, with all due respect, are you by chance leaving any equipment behind?” Nikola asked cautiously.
“I’m only taking the most valuable stuff, but the container isn’t bottomless, oy gevalt, though it’s a pity, a real pity.”
“Can we use what’s left?”
“Hmm, and what is there that you need, bubbeleh?” His tone instantly changed, becoming interested.
“A cyber-doc, a neural implant kit for lumbar spine, and basic medical supplies,” Redhead quickly said.
“Well, I’ve got that. Sadly, of course, that I can’t take the cyber-doc with me. And how are you planning to pay me, sweetheart?”
“Oh, damn, just cut it out! I have no clue what currency will even be valid next, but I’m sure as hell corporate eurodollars, state Poland zlotys or Ukrainian hryvnas won’t help you! Wait until we settle in the outside world; I won’t owe you!”
Maksim and Daria were listening in amazement, as Zelman and Nikola haggled furiously for a solid ten minutes. The occasionally slipping into Hebrew, and the latter cursing in Polish. All in all, judging from this exceptionally emotional and fast-paced exchange, Zelman, in addition to a significant sum in eddies, wanted guarantees for some major service soon, while Nika was negotiating for full access to the clinic he was leaving behind.
“Phew…” Nikola said, wiping her forehead. “An awesome dude. And a tough negotiator as well. But I’ve got access.”
“Gosh, Nika. You’re incomparable. Where did you learn to talk like that?”
“Ah.” Redhead waved dismissively, “my first mentor after becoming a cyborg was like that. Picked up a bit of Hebrew from him, not to mention how to haggle.”
“Nikola, so where are we going?” asked Maksim, opening the map of the city.
“You know the place that’s well-known in certain circles – the NES Factory?”
“Who doesn’t?” The guy smirked. “Been there a time or two.”
“So, that’s our target.”
“All right, let’s see… Eighteen kilometers. Okay. We have plenty of time to get there before curfew.”
“And, um,” Maksim pondered out, looking at Nika, “think, we can get our hands on some serious firepower there, given its particular contingent?”
“Pretty sure we can, but better check when we get there,” Redhead smiled. “So, are we heading out? Like, going to scavenge or loot?”
“No,” Max grinned, “we’ll be original – just go and buy everything! I read the TACTA updates; it’s clear that their store is a vital point for us. But reaching a safe place and calling a drone – all of that will take time, and we don’t know how long. So, we’ll simply load up as much as we can for now.”
“Makes sense,” Nika nodded. “Especially since old money will be useless tomorrow. Maksim, I’m putting my stash in the common fund. Been saving for a rainy day.”
In AR, the guy caught the link to the account on a crypto-wallet and clicked “accept.”
“Impressive,” he smiled at the sum. “Probably won’t spend it all, but we’ll try our hardest. Alright, let’s get into a conference. Dasha, take a break from the drones. We gotta decide what to buy.”