City-21 “Kyiv”, UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
The Palace of Sports, underground parking lot nearby,
Maksim Chernykh’s Team and Alba M.R. Marquez, August 12, 2049, 6:09 PM
For a few tense seconds, silence descended over the parking area…
Nika, passing by the last of the downed creatures, crouched suddenly, her knife slicing twice across the beast’s neck, quickly silencing its whimpers.
A soft creaking and the distinct sound of her metallic steps followed – Redhead approached the truck’s cabin and knocked on the door a couple of times with the knuckles of her cybernetic hand.
“We’re getting out,” Dasha muttered. “Don’t… shoot.”
From behind a nearby column, a wheelchair appeared, and Max approached the vehicle, a freshly loaded magazine in his pistol now holstered. The door swung open, revealing Alba, who seemed dazed, her gaze darting around, trying to keep away from the blood-soaked rabid cyborg girl with a shotgun.
The Spaniard’s eyes met Nikola’s, and she shuddered in fear, a silent scream of panic in her mind:
“She doesn’t even need any weapon, she can kill me with just one finger! And I think she wants to…”
Dasha followed, stepping out with a smart-cable in hand.
“I’m monitoring her sub-brain,” clarified the disheveled from the fray girl, still recovering from shock and pointing at the long wire. “Ensuring she’s disconnected from the network and the geolocation satellites.”
Alba glanced at Maksim in his wheelchair, flinched again, but remained silent.
Nikola exhaled deeply.
[So, what do we do now? Alba saw everything! Leaving a witness like that alive is too big of a risk. The Protectorate sentences to death for smaller offenses!]
[Listen to yourself, Nika! We can’t just kill her! She... she saved my life!] Dasha interjected with a resolute tone, unexpected even for herself.
[Everyone, calm down! No one is killing anyone!] He interjected, wheeling closer, his gaze firm, looking at Nikola and Alba. [This was supposed to be a simple, risk-free meetup. No one intended to expose Nikola, Alisa, or our hardware. Opting out in that situation would have caused us more problems and questions than a brief chat at a transfer point where we would nether return...]
[Goddammit, Max!] Red jerked her shoulders irritably. [No shit that this run-in with shaiszu messed everything up! But that’s not the issue right now. It’s about the threat Alba currently poses to us all!]
The young man grimaced as if a sudden toothache had struck him. Certainly, Nikola was right – Alba was a smart witness, and surely, she had seen too much. Daria’s cry about “They’re wrecking Moira” was a significant clue that wouldn’t go unnoticed. Of course, the Spanish girl didn’t know they were talking about an AI working primarily for Alisa’s sake. But the mere fact that they had a powerful AI, not subdued by the Protectorate, was enough.
Maksim grappled with his conscience, contemplating the harrowing decision to potentially sacrifice the woman he once loved. It was a notion steeped in agony, one he would entertain only if absolutely necessary to protect Alisa, Dasha, and the newly met Nikola.
“Damn! I would do it if needed,” he clenched his fists, “But that would make me real shit, just like those Protectorate murderers!”
And furthermore, he couldn’t afford to execute Alba coldly right in front of Dasha! Not after all the immense effort expended to stabilize her psychological state and halt the onset of a schizoid personality disorder.
As if underlining his dilemma, the tousled-haired girl looked him straight in the eye, silently pleading for the life of the Spaniard.
“Darn it! Time is running out, and I have to find ANOTHER way! Who knows what blow will become such a ‘first step’ to freedom for Vasilevskaya, completely unprepared for all this dirt. Especially given her fragile state with the post-synth overdose. What happens if Nikola cold-bloodedly slaughters Alba, whom Dasha has just strongly defended? After that, can we even continue to operate as a team?”
“And at the same time, our lives and future destiny – everything depends precisely on the cohesive cooperation in the group!”
The Spaniard swallowed hard, her anxiety palpable as she watched Max’s demeanor darken with each passing second. She knew they were discussing her fate in their private chat. The silence was suffocating, unbearable.
To distract herself from the heavy air of decisions being made about her life, Alba studied Nikola, attempting to draw as little attention as possible.
“She’s likely an ex-contractor, maybe under a med program. Provided by Milthone Grade, Watson Military, or possibly Cyber Falcon PMC… ‘Cause her core is definitely military-grade. And judging by the combat efficiency, she’s been well-trained to use it. Her limbs look more like civilian models, though... Hmm, I should have paid more attention to cyborgization... But no! Those powerful boosters are surely military-only. I remember seeing a patent of Watson CyberTech on active cooling systems – just like those radiator slits on her hips... God, what am I even thinking about?”
Meanwhile, a silent, rapid-fire dialogue continued in the SnapDrop conference.
[Perhaps... if we reevaluate... everything might be not as dire?] Daria cautiously ventured. [You certain that she really noticed my slip about Moira, and now can even understand we’re transporting an illegal, high-powered AI?]
[Yes, she caught it. This is Alba we’re talking about. Moreover, she knows that Moira is a T6+++ computational complex, and we’ve downplayed its cognitive capabilities to avoid the T7 category… But who are we if we simply kill her, just like that? How are we any better than the Protectorate, executing people live simply because they disagree?]
Max looked thoughtfully at Nikola, who was holding a knife.
[Why are you staring at me like that?] Red snorted, pulling a rag from her jacket pocket, and started meticulously cleaning her blade. [I’m no maniac for you!]
[It seems fast and easy to kill… anyone,] Dasha profoundly said, which wasn’t normally typical of her. [But what if Alba wants to join us?]
“Oh, Dashka, you stupid! What fucking nonsense are you spouting?!” a flustered thought trembled through her mind.
[That’s possible,] Maksim looked at Dasha in surprise. [Maybe… We’ll see now. If Alba resists, we’ll lock her up in the parking lot overnight. It’ll give us enough head start. We would have had to hide from the Protectorate anyway, whether they know about our AI or not.]
[Sounds reasonable,] Nikola agreed. [There are surely many renouncers like us roaming in Kyiv right now. At least from the contingent I’m used to dealing with. Surely, not all of them will manage to escape the city in time; they will hide and lie low.]
[If that’s the case, the Protectorate likely won’t chase just us exclusively,] Dasha added. [And tonight, I’ll work on modeling the situation, especially if we get new info about their goals and methods. By the way, talking to Alba might be helpful here; she clearly knows more than we do…]
The young man pivoted his wheelchair, locking eyes with Alba in a prolonged stare that sliced through the heavy silence.
“Fine, screw it. You wanted to talk,” he said, his voice breaking the quiet. “Okay. Begin then.”
Alba faltered, caught off-guard. The lengthy debate among Max and his team had left her merely an observer, silently scrutinizing Nikola and drifting into a sort of trance. All the rehearsed speeches had evaporated from her mind under the influence of her surging emotions.
Recalling the intense, brutal skirmish she had just witnessed, she blurted out the first thing coming to mind, “Yes, I did want to talk! What I’ve just seen – those were phenomenal combat skills! And you, Max, your intellect, and willpower shine through! And to think, you shoot like a god – I had no idea! And Dark – she’s a genius programmer! I just don’t get why such an incredible team would stand against the saviors of humanity! And you’re all wounded. Max, you’re even in a wheelchair – yet the Protectorate could have you back on your feet in minutes!”
“Damn, what the hell am I even saying?! This isn’t what I wanted to discuss!” she internally panicked.
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Max was taken aback by this outburst. “Is this really what she rushed here to talk about? Sorry, darling, but joining the Protectorate isn’t on the table! We clearly see things differently.”
“So, this is how you see it? Saviors of humanity?!” Max banged his fist on the armrest. “You can’t save someone by enslaving them!”
“Where are you getting this? What slavery? That’s not what’s happening!” The Spaniard countered confidently. “You must surely know that a high Index opens nearly all doors for you! For instance, besides an exclusive invitation to a specialized collection point, I was offered six career paths, one exactly in my field of study! And look, I can decline any of them without any coercion! Or... maybe… you don’t know?”
“That doesn’t change the fact…” Maksim furrowed his brows.
“Shaiszu are here to stay! If not for the Protectorate, most of humanity would already be dead!”
“Stop!” Dasha said quietly but firmly. “We know more than enough to make an informed decision. I’ve been analyzing the situation since before the invasion and continued it later on, with my own sub-brain. Its model is sufficiently powerful for this. So, despite the destruction of networked AIs, I’ve completed my assessment, and there’s a lot I can say. Shall I share my findings now? It’ll be brief if we skip the evidence. Perhaps, Alba, this information might also give you pause.”
“Go ahead,” Max agreed. “It’s important, and this will help us close the matter.”
Daria nodded. Her hand momentarily moved as if to display something in augmented reality, but then, remembering Alba wasn’t connected to their network, she awkwardly clasped her hands behind her back.
“I… umm… So… what I learned… Alright then… the conclusion.”
[It’s alright. Just talk,] Max encouraged her via a private message.
Daria paused, took a deep breath, and began:
“The primary wave of the shaiszu invasion began around 7 AM UTC. However, the active deployment of Protectorate AI agents was initiated much earlier, likely six hours before the first portals opened. The rapidity with which they seized control over all our engineering communications indicates that UNSA had exhaustive knowledge of our technologies. It also clearly points to some form of early assistance from the Earth’s side.”
“From the start, the Protectorate meticulously controlled all communication channels, executing a plan with chilling precision. They secured connections with key players across all social strata – from minor city-states to major corporations – effectively sealing any potential leaks.”
“I managed to uncover details about a secret meeting in Goddard. It was after that the Protectorate forcefully urged corporations and city-states towards cooperation.”
“Simultaneously, they engaged the Earth’s main military forces in combat against the shaiszu, boosting battle effectiveness drastically – it was evident that the military had access to not only data about emerging portals but also advanced information on counter-shaiszu tactics.”
Alba stared at Dasha in awe. She had never heard Dark speak publicly like this – softly yet distinctly, with deliberate pauses for emphasis, and without any stuttering.
“From the beginning, the Protectorate secured the loyalty of the elites with promises of safety,” Daria continued, “and, evidently, assurances of certain benefits. I don’t know what they were promised, but in this case, it doesn’t matter. Besides the carrot, there was also the stick. They brutally eliminated any dissenters. I’ve found many proofs, even though the information trails were professionally sanitized. The public executions of Thomas Gibson at the ISS Europa station and Vasiliy Horobetz live during a stream are testaments to this!”
“And finally,” Dasha concluded sharply, “there’s a 67% likelihood that they initiated the shaiszu portals themselves, though I lack enough data to fully model that aspect.”
[Was this analysis the reason why you overdo it with the vape, WonderWhiz?]
[Yeah, sorry-sorry, it turned out to be such a fascinating task. It won’t happen again! I promise! Honestly!]
“But Max didn’t even need my analysis to make a decision!” Daria sighed tiredly, finishing her speech.
“That’s true. Dictatorships always thrive on the promise of protection from a terrifying external enemy.” The young man nodded. “Humanity would suffice only information to repel the shaiszu on its own. But the Protectorate used this situation to seize power with minimal cost and maximum reach.”
Alba rubbed her temples, overwhelmed by the forceful rebuttal, though she found some objections to their words.
“Maksim, I understand why you say this. But the Earth had no chance – it was only the first wave of portals, that passed just now. This information is in the Protectorate network, but soon you’ll see for yourself – they’re imposing curfews primarily for public safety! You must understand, the shaiszu are too powerful for our current technologies. We need the Protectorate to win! All they just ask from people is to maintain order and legality. This is the minimum requirement, and no one’s taking away our free will!”
“Cut the bullshit, kiddo,” Nika interjected sharply, clipping her knife back onto her shoulder harness. “I had two options: become a slave or die on your damn Protectorate’s orders! Thanks to Dasha, Max, and Alisa, I now have an alternative!”
[Don’t mention Alisa!]
[Fuck! Sorry, I was on edge, slipped up there!]
“There’s no point discussing hypotheticals,” Max tried to shift the conversation.
“Alisa? I know only one Alisa who’s connected to Dasha, Max, and Moira… Yeah, that was in July 2048…”
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Technopolis Valencia
Alba Maria Rodriguez Marquez, July 2048
The Valencia sun was merciless that day – thirty-six degrees! But the thought that she could finish her classes much earlier than expected tempered the young Spaniard’s discomfort with everything – the heat, the necessity of donning that ludicrously large hat, and even the fact that she’d hardly had time for a proper meal after the lecture, grabbing only a quick bite at a tapas bar, which was uncharacteristic for Alba.
Her joy, however, was grounded in something utterly mundane – Max had arrived! And yes, oh god, he was currently alone in his hotel room! Well, there was also that odd android girl he always seemed to drag around with him. The Spanish girl had tried to find out why, but never got a straight answer – the guy could be surprisingly stubborn on certain topics.
Intrinsically curious, Alba had only managed to discover that Alisa – the name Maksim had given the android – was certified as a “secretary robot” with a T6 architecture-based AI and required a constant network connection. Interestingly, their own, rather powerful for a student startup, T6+ AI “Moira” handled not only business tasks but also processed some of the android’s computational requests remotely.
“To hell with it! None of that matters now!” The girl thought as she hopped into a share-car to the hotel, excited about the surprise she was about to spring on Max.
They hadn’t seen each other in nearly a month, and her desire was overwhelming. Last time he had come with that... weird Dasha. Things hadn’t gone well with the irksome girl; naturally, as every fiber of Alba’s being screaming – that little one saw him not as a business partner or friend, but as a man! She’s hopelessly in love!
However, after they left, that topic of the “rival” hadn’t come up again, and Alba had calmed down.
“Max is here, in Valencia, and it’s wonderful! He’s in the room, working, because I told him I couldn’t get free until six in the evening…”
But she had managed to get free sooner! She had raced home, changed, and freshened up... Choosing a stunningly short white dress with a daring back cut down to the small of her back – judging by the admiring glances she’d gathered all the way, such “armor” would leave no one indifferent.
Now, fully prepped for battle, she paused at the hotel entrance.
Max had sent the electronic room key as soon as he checked in, so Alba confidently entered the lobby and headed for the elevators. Ascending, she admired her reflection in the mirror, smiled mischievously, quickly slipped off her panties, and tucked them into her purse.
“I’ll sneak up and delight him... in every possible way! Hee-hee-hee…”
Reaching the correct floor, she tiptoed to the room door. They wouldn’t hear her from inside, but the “erotic thriller” atmosphere completely enthralled the heated beauty.
However, cautiously cracking open the door, Alba was surprised to hear voices.
“Who’s that?” she wondered, crouching and silently entering the room. What was going on here? In the hallway mirror, she saw Maksim and Alisa, hugging at the far end of the room.
“What…? Seriously, what’s going on here?”
“Oh, don’t worry, Kitten,” the male voice reassured, “Yes, it’s a setback, but we knew this task was difficult. It’s foolish to expect success just at the snap of a finger.”
“I… I know, Big Brother… But… I was just really scared again. Feared I wouldn’t come back…”
“Big Brother?!”
“You know that’s impossible.” Maksim said, patting Alisa on the hair. “We’ve been through the last iteration together. The risk of serious damage is minimal. Besides, there’s always a backup.”
“I know, but still… Moira clearly isn’t sufficient – we’re facing serious computational power issues…”
“More like optimization issues. Dasha and I are already working on it. Remember, the records suggested this exact problem might occur…”
“Shit! I better leave. Don’t know what this is about, but it feels, he won't like it if he sees me now…”
Alba cautiously retreated, tiptoeing back, praying the door would close silently.
She never asked, “What the hell was that?” Somehow, it felt shameful, as if she had spied on something deeply personal and forbidden... And their romance soon ended after that.
Sometimes the Spaniard wondered if there was a connection between their breakup and that strange situation... but she never found an answer.
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City-21 “Kyiv”, UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
The Palace of Sports, underground parking lot nearby
Alba Maria Rodriguez Marquez, August 12, 2049, 6:16 PM
Alba shook her head as a vivid memory suddenly overwhelmed her – perhaps it was just the stress talking.
“We would welcome help, but not masters,” Maksim concluded, finishing his speech as he glanced at his ex-girlfriend.
“If the Protectorate stops the fucking disarray currently ruling our civilization, then I’m all for it!” Alba exclaimed almost reflexively. She quickly gathered her thoughts to clarify, “You understand yourself, we’re stuck! All the Earth, all civilization! Technologically and intellectually! Your own words, recognize them? We are shackled by the Pact, hands and feet! The constant squabbles between states and tech-corporations, bans on everything, AI restrictions, the damn Cyber-Inquisition, genetic design progress in humans completely halted!”
“This was a challenge we were supposed to solve ourselves!” Max countered, irritated, remembering their long debates about international bans on technological development across a whole range of technologies.
“But we didn’t!” the girl flared. “And when those appeared who would help us, you decide you're ‘on the other side of the barricades!’ Isn't that absurd?”
The young man only waved his hand irritably.
“That’s it, I’ve heard enough! Tell me, what are you trying to do? Convince us to join the Protectorate?”
“I just… I wanted to see you… I… you…”
“Sorry, Alba. You’re a good person… truly good. Honest, loyal, intelligent. I regret that we, as you put it, found ourselves ‘on different sides of the barricades.’ We don’t have time for arguments, but I’m not a Protectorian to just kill someone whose opinion I dislike. Will you have any problems if you don’t check in at the collection point before the curfew starts?”
“No. Max, wait! Let me finish! What are you planning ?”
“Sorry.” He averted his gaze. “You can’t go with us, so we’re leaving you here.”
“Here?” Alba repeated, puzzled.
“Yes. A couple of floors down there’s a suitable room – with water and a working toilet. No light, but we’ll leave you a flashlight. Also, some food and a sleeping bag. The lock will reset in the morning. Then you can head to the collection point. Goodbye.”
“Max, wait, don’t!..”
[Nika, help me, please. I can’t do this… in a wheelchair.]