City-21 “Kyiv”, UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
Industrial Zone “NES Factory”, Medical Center “Lizard Tail”
Maksim Chernykh’s team, August 12, 2049, 12:12 AM
Night had long since fallen over the Factory, as quite a bit of time had passed since the start of the curfew. It seemed the massive complex had fallen silent, engulfed in an uncharacteristic stillness for this bustling hive of activity. Advertisement banners hung forlornly in augmented reality, their relevance long gone. The ceaseless clouds of spam and business emails of varying confidentiality had ceased. All entrances, even those once perpetually open for “special guests,” were now firmly shut.
But this calm was deceptive. Under the cloak of signal jammers masking communications, the Factory continued to buzz unnoticed. Here, among the labyrinth of market stalls, smuggler bases, and other semi-legal organizations, an invisible life thrived.
In the local network, securely concealed from the omniscient eye of the Protectorate’s extranet, countless negotiations were taking place. Life-changing deals were being struck, alliances were forming, and once beneficial contracts ruthlessly torn apart. Like a giant swarm, the Factory was united in its chaotic scurrying and the Brownian motion of its inhabitants, each absorbed in their small tasks. Unbeknownst to them, each was contributing to a single, larger objective. Possibly the most significant and final mission the locals would have to undertake: the mission to save their own lives.
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After Alisa’s shocking and world-turning confession, some time passed. While Maksim was rethinking reality and talking quietly with his sister, the rest of the team tactfully retreated. Eventually, after a quick snack, they all gathered back in the Hall. One more crucial issue needed to be addressed for their survival.
“Weapons,” Maksim spoke up. “As already discussed, we need serious firepower. And it must be sorted out before calling the TACTA Drone. Nika, you mentioned your connections. Do you think we can get everything here?”
“Depends on what’s this ‘everything’,” Nikola replied with a smile. “But, generally, you could get any stuff at this place. The invasion might have changed things, but I think we’ll find weapons just okay. The issue is payment. We have no Protectorate money, no TACTA currency, and I’m damn sure, no one is interested in old Earth money...”
“Let’s go for some barter! Most renouncers are definitely facing the same problems now. I bet, there must be some sort of market – like a swap meet, a place for ‘natural exchange’,” Maksim suggested.
“Absolutely! That’s exactly what I was getting to. Given the... hmm... peculiarities of the local economy, bartering was already a thing here. Especially since some of the locals have had issues with ‘clean’ money from time to time, so…” Nikola did not finish the sentence. Instead, she leaned back in her chair and opened a messenger in augmented reality.
“Basically, the folks here are seasoned and ready for anything. I just got an invite to the right forum, been waiting for it.”
“Since we’re on the topic of purchases,” Alisa said, “I think we should address preparing our combat drones and bots. There is a good workshop here; better make full use of it! If we modify the CaTZ platform and upgrade the drones Dasha fetched — there’s plenty of room for our engineering skills to shine. It’s just a shame we have so few ready-made components...”
“Got it, we’ll look for tech kits too,” Maksim agreed. “And tools. The workshop is good, but Doc took most of the machines and hardware with him.”
“I… I’ve been thinking what would be useful for all of us... well, primarily... but not solely for us…” Dasha interjected a little irrelevantly, her voice trailing off as she bit the drip tip of her vape.
“You know… just recently, during the fight with those... dogs... No, I’m not talking about the Protes this time, I mean the shaiszu dogs. Down there in the underground parking lot. There was something I really, even extremely wanted.”
She paused, rocking on her chair, staring at the ceiling, gathering her thoughts before continuing.
“An interface! A combat interface in augmented reality! A System – it would be cool to name this thing ‘System’, you agree, yeah? Yeah! It would store a catalog of shaiszu types, predict the direction and strength of monster attacks, help us coordinate, assist our actions based on our personal characteristics, and much more.”
“Hmm, that’s a quite familiar concept. Any major PMC has a similar software-hardware complex,” Nikola said thoughtfully, twirling a cup of coffee in her hands – she got one to stay awake for this late-night meeting. “I still have user manuals for a couple of those in the cloud from training days...”
“Send me all of it, please-please,” Vasilevskaya immediately reacted.
“But of course, we’ll only have to wait until our access to external networks is recovered,” Nikola smiled. “Most of these things just help with tactical coordination on the battlefield. They provide some additional information and help in combat, but no one has ever tried to give each soldier a personal and truly powerful AI. That would require an enormous amount of computing power...”
Redhead suddenly fell silent, staring intently at Dasha’s wide smile.
“Uh-huh! And we can give each of us — yeah, each! — a personal AI, like the Ravens, but combat-focused. And Moira won’t just help with practical coordination; she can calculate probabilities. All aimed at fighting both shaiszu and the Protes! Range of attacks, safe zones...” Dasha took a deep drag from her vape, but this time, even Maksim didn’t scold her.
Brother and sister exchanged knowing smiles. They didn’t need to speak — either aloud or in the chat — to understand what the members of the “robotics lovers’ club” were thinking. Of course, such a project couldn’t be completed in an evening. But they could lay the foundations of a self-learning system and start gradually implementing it. Each of them already began dreaming about how it could be built — the architecture, the distribution of computational load, the implementation stages...
“Hey-hey-hey, hold on! Stop getting carried away!” Maksim wasn’t sure if he was shouting it to Alisa and Dasha or to himself. “We have too many tasks to drop them for this undeniably excellent idea. Preparation. Weapons. Mobility. Damn it, we have no more than thirty hours to get out of Kyiv — and this time, we can’t miss the deadline!”
Vasilevskaya sighed sadly and lowered her gaze. Alisa, however, hid her joy behind a compliant smile — she could fully participate in the conversation and continue working on Dasha’s idea in parallel threads. And once the meeting was over, they could really dive into it together!
“Alright, here’s the plan,” Maksim said, rubbing his temples with a sigh. “Sis, you handle the engineering part, the bots, and the drones. Dasha will take on the task of setting up the combat management system based on Moira. I guess, we’re going to need it sooner than we’d like.” He shot a stern look at the now-animated girl. “I know you’d sneakily work on it instead of sleeping anyway. That’s just how you are, you sly little thing. Meanwhile, Nika and I will handle negotiations and the procurement of weapons.”
“Okay, about the trading platform,” Redhead began. She had gotten used to the fact that all team members were continuously in the same conference, often streaming visuals from their eye implants or AR/VR. So, showing the messenger and darknet trading platform was no big deal for her.
“The access is invite-only. I got one, so we can go and see what’s available. But just a heads up — from what I’ve spotted, the folks are real moody now...”
Nikola gave a wry smile with just the right corner of her mouth before continuing. “No one, not even in their worst dreams, could have imagined, the Protectorate would move so quickly to build a fortified perimeter, conscript thousands of recruits overnight, and deploy all available Earth drones and military tech.”
“So, looks like paranoia and depression are reigning in the market. Paranoia – cause previously they had been offering everything openly, and now the ads are heavily encrypted. And, unfortunately, all the listings suitable for us are already marked as ‘deal closed.’ By the way, the transaction flow tonight is off the charts — I’ve never seen anything like it. You barely start to figure out the terms and identify the buyer, and then — bam! — the offer is gone. Here’s the trading platform.”
Headlines of the listings flashed before their eyes:
# Precision watches for sale with additional features. Ideal for night walks and hunting.
# Looking for reliable construction tools? Various sizes of master hammers in stock. Delivery guaranteed.
# Collection of antique toys, perfect for history enthusiasts. All items in excellent condition.
# High-speed blenders for quick preparation of any mixtures! Ideal for kitchen work with any ingredients.
# Need new musicians for your orchestra? Instruments of different calibers and tones. Available for rent or purchase.
They all stared at the listings in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being someone puffing steam into the ventilation and the soft hum of the air conditioning.
“Damn! All the deals are already closed,” Dasha finally blurted out an obvious statement, putting away her vape.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Yeah, it seems the Protectorate’s sociopsychologists are earning their keep,” Alisa nodded.
“Hey, don’t fret!” Maksim interjected. “If there are no suitable deals, we’ll just post our own buying ad. And it happens that I know exactly how to phrase it in ‘local code.’ They might be hiding their listings because they’re afraid of Protectorate spies in the network. Actually, I think this disguise is pointless, but let’s not stress people out unnecessarily.”
“And what do you propose we write?” Nika asked.
“You know, where I grew up, we had a slang term for the most common 9mm pistol rounds,” the guy grinned. “We called them ‘butter mushrooms.’ It’s also called slippery jacks or suillus, you know. So, we’ll post about that, and if anyone asks, we can just say we’re looking for actual mushrooms. Log in!”
“That sounds wild,” Nikola said, surprised. “Why call them that?”
“Exactly,” Maksim laughed. “It was for disguise, mostly. And yeah, the bullets do have a certain resemblance to young butter mushrooms. Plus, in the Russian Empire, food shortages were a constant issue, so it wasn’t unusual for folk to forage for them. People’d salt, pickle, dry, and sometimes sell them. So, discussing mushrooms didn’t raise any eyebrows.”
“Alrighty,” Red shrugged, “let’s give it a shot. We’re logged in as RealFox29.”
“That’s an odd username.”
“I didn’t have time to come up with anything better!” Nika giggled.
“C’mon then, let’s do it!”
Half a minute later, a “literary masterpiece” appeared in the general feed, crafted by Nikola and Maksim.
@RealFox29: Buying butter mushrooms, preferably large. Need a lot. Urgently. Delivery required. Payment negotiable.
The network’s reaction was swift, but not at all what they expected. Max and Nika stared at the messages in complete bewilderment.
@CleverTrip: Sorry to hear, RealFox, you’re so down you’re ready to smoke mushrooms…
@Shouter: Wait, you can smoke them???? I didn’t know! My grandparents had tons of them on their eco-farm! And they just fried them, those barbarians!
@EatCorgi: Are you all idiots or what? You make a decoction out of butter mushrooms, with chalk, it’s a normal thing if you know how!
@Sky007: Folks, if this is a thing, I’m in too! Anyone got some?
The thread quickly spiraled into a debate on whether to brew or smoke mushrooms.
“Damn, I overestimated this crowd,” Max said, staring at the message counter. “Looks like we just started a new trend in drug experiments. As they say, ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’... Depressing.”
“Wait! Hold on! We have a lead!” Nika exclaimed abruptly, opening a private message.
@Ossa: Butter mushrooms, huh... Nice touch! RealFox, buddy, you can talk straight here. We’re all cool here. People are just on edge, so we’re being extra cautious. What exactly do you need?
“That’s great! Max, you genius! So, what do we reply?” Nika asked. “Go ahead, type it from my account.”
The guy nodded and quickly typed back:
@RealFox29: We need 9mm Parabellum rounds, as many as possible. Plus 12 gauge for a police shotgun, both slugs and buckshot, to start with. And we’re looking for firepower, something serious – any corp-military gear, we’ll take it all.
@Ossa: Got it, give me a minute to whisper around with my people.
Two minutes passed.
@Ossa: Bro, we can hook you up with some Parabellum rounds, no sweat, but we ain’t got no cop ammo for sale, sorry. But if you ain’t picky, we can offer you some lighter pieces, like Armadillo submachine guns, shorties, we can give you five of those, and we’ll throw in some ammo too. What you got to pay with?
“Alright, guys, we might have jumped the gun here,” Nika said. “We found a seller but didn’t think about what to trade! Any ideas?”
“And what do they take here?” Maksim asked.
“I guess they take just about anything. But we don’t have this ‘anything’!”
@RealFox29: Thanks, Ossa, I got it. Give me a couple of minutes to ‘whisper around’ too!
“So, what can we barter?” Maksim started, “Food supplies are essential for us. And we don’t have much anyway. Some tools from the clinic? Nah, those aren’t worth much. The most valuable thing we have is the surgical robot. But giving it over for just a few guns is out of the question.”
“First, we need to poke around,” Nika countered, “if there’s anything serious to trade for. You’re right, for five or even ten guns, it’s not worth it.”
Suddenly, Alisa, who had been standing aside quietly, spoke up.
“Guys, we’re totally missing out on a valuable asset we’ve got right here! Selling our genius med-bot is clearly easy, but we won’t get much for it. This crowd here doesn’t really need it, it’s just useless without a pro-operator. But a surgical robot PLUS my skills? Now that’s a serious offer. We’re not selling the gear; we’re selling the service!”
“Great idea, sis! Now we just need to figure out how to pitch it. And what exactly can we do? Besides fixing broken spines?”
“Actually, a lot. There is a whole library of different surgeries here. We’re only limited by the materials in stock. Zelman took a lot, that’s true, but we’ve got enough supplies for a few operations, even complicated ones. And if we can find a way to restock, we can really get things rolling! So, let’s feel out our seller.”
“By the way, the service stations at Doc’s are top-notch too,” Red added. “If we’re digging into this, don’t forget there’s more than just the surgical robot in the OR! Proper maintenance of limbs and implants is a good moneymaker too. The quality of that service directly affects a cyborg’s performance!”
“Got it, noted,” Max nodded.
“About... services... It’s...” Dasha hesitated and fell silent, looking flustered.
“Speak up, WonderStar, it’s all good,” Maksim encouraged her.
“Well... I use... some mixes, but I’m not an addict! I’m a biohacker! Uhm… what I saw when they were talking mushrooms, it’s all cheap stuff. They don’t have any good pharma. But I can make some. If we set up a good chemical reactor using local tech, I can cook up some real treats... the locals won’t want to try anything else after! Max... it’s not for me! It’s for the business!”
“Even better, I can make useful stuff – detox meds, stimulants and all that. It’s no accident deals are flying so fast here; I bet, lots of people are in a hurry to break out. So, these things could be really in demand...”
“Useful stuff, for the business...” Maksim mused. “I didn’t know you were into manufacturing processes too. Are you sure you can handle it? This isn’t like making vape mixes.”
“I definitely can!” the girl exclaimed eagerly. “I know where to look, aware of all the process details, and beyond that... it’s more programming than chemistry. Not at all like cooking soup... by hand. I’ll program the reactor. For sure.”
“Then it’s a good idea, let’s keep it in mind too,” Max agreed.
Nika, who had been pacing the room, deep in thought, suddenly stopped.
“Our main task is to sell our services to someone more serious than this small-time gangster with a few guns. And I think there are such people here... Especially if Dasha can make top-tier pharma, we should sell it to wholesalers, not peddle it ourselves.”
“Do you have anyone in mind?” Maksim looked at her with interest.
“Hope so. The Factory used to be run by Drago’s crew... Balkan thugs, real psychos. I’ve been in a lot of underground Mix fights over the past few years, so had to cross paths with them quite a bit. Uhm, there were also other... let’s say, combat-related stuff. No wonder, when we rolled up here, the second mug at the entrance looked familiar... If we can get in touch with one of their leaders, they could be a solid trade partner.”
“These guys operated in States Ukraine, Belarus, and Poland, controlling a good chunk of the arms and drug traffic from the corporates to the hot zones in the south. They should have a good stockpile for exchanging!”
“Alright, let’s try to make contact. Max, I’m writing a reply!”
@RealFox29: So, Ossa, after thinking it over, I realized bartering for all my requests is unrealistic – I want too much. But I can offer services instead!
@Ossa: Hey, I actually checked your profile in passing. So, you’re a girl?? Just being cautious, huh? )))
“Kurwa, I’m busted,” Nika muttered, nearly spitting on the floor in frustration. “Alright, whatever. Not a big deal.”
@RealFox29: Yes, Ossa, you got me. But it doesn’t matter. Let’s get to business!
@Ossa: How cute, talking about weapons with a girl. Redhead, right? )
@RealFox29: Enough, okay?
@Ossa: And when you said ‘services,’ did I understand you correctly? Is it what I think it is?))
@RealFox29: No, damn it!!
@Ossa: You know, that’s good too! Speaking for myself – I don’t buy love. I’m still young and, by the way, quite good-looking! It’s much nicer to do all this without ‘monetary transactions,’ but with soul and mutual desire. Do you agree, huh? Maybe we can meet tomorrow before everyone split?
@RealFox29: Are you hitting on me? You haven’t even seen me! Maybe I’m an old, legless granny?
@Ossa: No, my heart senses you’re young and red-haired! And reeeal hot!
After the word ‘legless,’ the room had to stifle hysterical laughter, even though it wouldn’t be heard on the other end.
@RealFox29: Okay, Ossa, our conversation has hit a dead end. You’re not even listening! So, let’s say, IF I unexpectedly find myself without anyone to sleep with – I promise I’ll remember you. Now, back to business. Is there anyone from Drago’s crew here? Maybe someone from Voyko’s or Nikich’s team? If Nikich is still around, say hi from the Mad Fox, he’ll remember me.
The conversation went silent. The last message seemed to shock the other side. That’s quite understandable, actually. One thing is to flirt with a girl in chat, imagining she’d send revealing photos or agree to a rendezvous in the dark corners of the Factory... And another when she starts dropping names of the region’s most ruthless gangsters, whose hands are soaked in blood, and even claims to know one of them.
After a minute, the chat resumed.
@Ossa: Sorry, Red, don’t judge too harshly. We’re all on edge here, saying stupid things from stress. I apologize. I have information for you.
@RealFox29: Alright, you’re forgiven. Fine, you can call me Red. I’m all ears.
@Ossa: So, Nikich has been gone for half a year now. After him, it was Voyko, but he also got taken out recently. His head’s intact, but it’s on ice in Istanbul, and no one knows what they’re gonna do with him. Now it’s Miro running the show for the past month. He’s here, but he doesn’t hang out online. I’m working with him. Tell me what you need, and I’ll pass it on in no time. If you got something solid, it’ll benefit me too. Deal?
@RealFox29: Ok, listen up. I’m not alone here; got a crew with me. All renouncers. But we’re pros; we can fix people and do all kinds of cyber enhancements. Zelman’s clinic is ours now. LEGALLY, with FULL access. Doc’s my buddy, so he handed over the admin rights. Quality work guaranteed. Given the war times, I promise the clients won’t regret it. We can patch up a couple of fighters real good or upgrade the gear to total combat-ready. Not from scratch, of course, but if the patient has a good base, we can turn them into a terminator.
In return, we need an arsenal. Let me stress, a real arsenal. All automatic, using the most common ammo. We also need guided handheld rockets, magnetic mines, and a bunch of recon drones. Mech kits are fine too; we can assemble them ourselves. But they should be military-corps, not civilian crap. Plus, electronics – night vision and solid tactical gear ready for a good combat AI. Basically, I am to arm a team of five specialists. No need to memorize this word for word; Drago’s guys know exactly what’s needed! Netting costs through eddies, pre-war rates. I know the prices, for both guns and cybermed.
Separately, there’s a proposal for some quality chems, not the junk that was discussed recently. But that’s a topic for a serious talk later. So, can you pass this on?
@Ossa: Got it all, I’m on my way to higher-ups. Red, stay in touch. Nice to meet you! Maybe we’ll meet in real life!
@RealFox29: Maybe. But first is business. Waiting for your reply.
“Phew...” Nika exhaled.
The others looked at her in mild amazement.
“Redhead, your diplomatic skills never cease to amaze me!” Maksim smiled.
“Damn right!” she replied, lifting her nose proudly. “That’s me!”
A couple of minutes later, the chat came alive again.
@Ossa: Miro sends his regards! Your offer sounds interesting, but there’s one condition – he wants to hash something out right now. Are you guys at Zelman’s spot?
@RealFox29: Yes.
@Ossa: Miro will be at the clinic in ten minutes. He’s bringing one fighter, someone you need to check. Meet them with just one other person. He’ll only talk to you. Good luck, sister!
@RealFox29: Thanks, confirmed! Meeting at the clinic in 10 minutes. We’ll come out when we see you on camera.
“Well, I have ten minutes to fix my makeup before the big meeting,” Nika giggled. “Max, let’s get ready.”