City-21 “Kyiv”, UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
The Palace of Sports, underground parking lot nearby
Alba Maria Rodriguez Marquez, August 13, 2049, 7:15 AM
Waking up by her internal clock, Alba was amazed at how rested she felt after just a few hours of sleep. The gloom was gone, her thoughts were clear, and her nerves were steady. She launched her associative mapping program and a text editor. Sure, without the network, she might not recall all the things she needed… But soon, she’d be out of here…
“Well, the ball’s in my court now,” she thought, glancing at the media glyph in the top left corner of her vision.
# Preliminary Recommendation (Requires Testing)
# Public Efficiency Class: Red
…
# Job Offer (Option 4)
# Monitoring and Social Analysis Group, Fourth Division of the Internal Security and Counterintelligence Service of the UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
Alba pondered deeply, starting to jot down points on her virtual screen.
“The key now is to gather all the info I have into a clear, coherent report. I’ll start with their AI, Moira. I’m certain its main task is supporting that android, Alisa. That redheaded cyborg mentioned her in a context of gratitude… Wait, the pieces are coming together!”
“Efficient functioning of complex cyber systems is always closely tied to the core. Essentially, it — plus the sub-brain — forms a powerful artificial intelligence, typically of a high category! That’s why that ‘Nika’ mentioned slavery! In reality, it's just transitioning T4+ under the Protectorate’s direct control, but these fanatical psychos might call effective management slavery.”
“Damn, I’m getting sidetracked! There’s a breach of our earthly laws here too! Max tried to recreate his dead sister’s personality in an android! I dug up his history back then — I remember that name! Not sure if it’s prohibited by the Protectorate, but I have indirect evidence of this violation. Good thing I researched it after eavesdropping on them at the hotel…”
“And locking me up here is an outright attack on a Protectorate citizen. They won’t let that slide!”
“Let the games begin!”
Fully dressed, hair washed and combed, Alba stood by the door. “Alright, final check. Analytical report for the Protectorate, done. How to use this opportunity? I shouldn’t spill all the info to the first person I meet…” she mused, mechanically fixing her hair.
“I don’t know enough about the position yet… Better keep quiet and observe what happens at the assembly point. Likely, I'll be assigned a mentor or supervisor, so first, I'll figure out the internal structure of the Protectorate, then decide my next steps.”
“Of course, the faster I do this, the better, so those… this…” she clenched her fists, “Joder! I must get revenge on them!”
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A quiet beep echoed. A faint whirring responded. A click-click followed.
Alba extended her hand. A touch. The turn of the handle. It’s open!
“You’ll wish you hadn’t underestimated me!” the black-haired fury quietly hissed.
Stepping out, flashlight in hand, Alba sprinted towards the parking exit…
Emerging, she briskly walked from the lot to the highway on-ramp, taking in the overnight changes. To her surprise, morning Kyiv was a pleasant shock. More than that — astonishing, in a good way.
During the curfew, the Protectorate had done an immense amount of work.
All fires were extinguished — no smoke columns in sight. The roads weren’t just cleared of blockades; traffic was active for seven in the morning. Most of the vehicles were trucks, already branded with the Protectorate emblem.
The network was, of course, operational. Alba clicked on the blinking mediaglyph and opened a new message reminding her to be at the assembly point on time.
“I’ve got plenty of time till ten, worst-case scenario, I could walk there…” she decided. “Huh? What’s this? The official Protectorate app got an update?”
Indeed, it was more than just an update! Now, among other things, you could call a free taxi through it. The destinations were limited by Class, but even those who hadn’t yet been assigned a Class but were invited to the assembly point could get there quickly and for free.
“Even better! According to the message, it’s operational from seven AM, so no need to wait. Let’s go!”
Given that Alba wasn’t local and knew the city poorly, she didn’t speculate on what the destination would be like. She simply waited for the taxi, got in, and told the autopilot the address — 3 Enthusiast Street.
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City 21 “Kyiv”, UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
Rusanivka Island, Headquarters of the Internal Security Service of the Protectorate
Alba Maria Rodriguez Marquez, August 13, 2049, 7:40 AM
Giant, massive construction projects were still on the horizon, but for the Internal Security Service of the Protectorate, they had already requisitioned an entire island — Rusanivka. Those residents who passed the selection process and received appointments in one of the Classes from Green and up stayed in assembly points, where the Protectorate had set up training centers.
For all other island residents, there wasn’t much choice — either wait for testing in the Gray Class or voluntarily opt to become “Colorless.” In any case, they all faced a major relocation to specially equipped quarters closer to the Wall. All of it still had to be built, by reconstructing and expanding existing city buildings.
Meanhile, as a temporary solution, military specialists erected several tent cities. Overnight, during curfew, one of these was almost fully populated with evacuees from Rusanivka.
The Protectorate made it clear — they cared a lot about the higher Classes and would go to great lengths for such citizens. As for everyone else, their concern was minimal — “We’ve ensured your safety from the shaiszu, now step aside and don’t interfere.”
The most prominent and luxurious building on Rusanivka was the Slavutych Hotel, completely renovated in 2035 — now designated as the temporary headquarters for the service. Nearby, in the adjacent business center, they set up the AA2 assembly point.
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Alba thought she had seen enough of the Protectorate’s military tech during her trip, but the checkpoint on the bridge over the Rusanivka Channel still managed to surprise her. Overnight, the entire island had been encircled by a high fortress wall with artillery towers. Most of them, in addition to various caliber guns, also featured swiveling catapults for drone launches.
Above the island, aside from the usual swarm of drones, there were three large “zeppelins” — huge, cigar-shaped objects hovering at about three hundred meters. Alba didn’t know what they were, but they looked menacing and threatening.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
The Protectorate turned the bridges into closed corridors, allowing vehicles through one at a time. And the “final touch” — beside the gates, in addition to several guards with automatic rifles, stood a pair of massive four-legged combat robots armed with large-caliber cannons.
“With this amount of military tech and the scale of fortifications, it’s hard to believe this is all just for protection against all sorts of renouncers,” thought Alba. “This looks more like a fortress within a fortress. Are they not telling us the full scale of the shaiszu threat?”
As she pondered this, the car pulled up to the entrance and stopped in front of a guard, lowering its window.
“Eternal Sun, citizen!” The guard spoke in a language that sounded very much like German to Alba. However, the auto-translator in her sub-brain picked it up without any issues.
#Language Identified: Avrillian, Basic (UNSA Protectorate)
“Sergeant Robert Wetzel, Rapid Response Group, Internal Security Service of the UNSA Protectorate. Your personal code, please.”
“Yes, of course,” Alba replied, opening the app. “One moment. Here it is: 1864-2945-2605-5211.”
“Checking… alright, permission granted. Please place your hand here,” the guard produced a small device about the size of a hand. She lifted her hand. A quick prick, a brief pause.
“Alba Maria Rodriguez Marquez, identity confirmed. Proceed to the reception point; further instructions will be sent to the app. Long Sun!”
The Spaniard didn’t even have time to respond before the guard stepped back. The taxi, raising its window, headed onto the bridge.
To cross the relatively narrow channel took more time than Alba initially thought. The car went through some sort of gas treatment, there were noises outside, flashes of light, and probably more. However, this didn’t affect passenger comfort at all.
On the other side, the transformed Slavutych Hotel immediately caught her eye. The Protectorate had made just a few changes — altered the daytime lighting of the main building, added some paint here and there, and mostly hung long banners and flags down the entire height. But the building now felt completely different!
“Like a real headquarters… Interesting, isn’t it a bit too close to the fortress wall? If they’re this meticulous about protection… Although, I don’t know, maybe it’s temporary.”
She barely had time to finish this thought before the car zipped the last few meters and turned into the parking lot of the business center converted into the AA2 assembly point.
The girl certainly didn’t expect to arrive first or among the first—and she was right. The nimble auto-taxis were pulling up, dropping off passengers almost continuously.
“Thank you for using our service,” the car bid farewell. “May the Sun shine long for you, citizen!”
And it zipped away.
“Alright, let’s get some answers,” Alba encouraged herself.
None of her friends were online, so without any distractions, she walked into the building.
The Protectorate hadn’t changed the hall — just added some black and red banners of the Internal Security Service, along with white, red, and blue flags of the higher Public Efficiency Classes. Apparently, lower Classes didn’t work in this service.
As she crossed the threshold, a message arrived in the official app. Apparently, one of the Protectorate’s AI agents had determined she was on-site and adjusted the sequence of required actions.
First, a preliminary interview, then analyses and tests. Lots of them, much to Alba’s surprise. And finally, an interview with the training supervisor.
“I guessed right! I do have a supervisor. That’s when I’ll decide how to talk to them…”
The preliminary interview was surprisingly short. She confirmed that she chose this career option, understood the conditions and requirements of the Red Class, and knew where she was going and why.
Then came a long series of tests and analyses. Alba had been to some of the best modern clinics, but compared to what she saw now, earthly technology was the pinnacle of primitiveness and outdated methods.
However, there weren’t many medics in the blue uniform — mostly, machines and robots did the work.
When it felt like she had no blood or saliva left for tests, and her brain had turned into a ball from endless memory, psychological stability, speed of thought, and logic tests — it all suddenly ended.
A long-awaited invitation to the main interview arrived in her sub-brain, and the Spaniard, relieved, headed to the ninth floor.
The door to the small office, number 928, opened welcomingly, and Alba stepped inside.
What to say? An office is an office. Small, furnished with earthly furniture. Nothing overly high-tech or incomprehensible. Even the banners behind the desk were familiar — the flags of the Protectorate and Internal Security Service, along with the three highest Public Efficiency Classes — White, Red, and Blue.
Behind the desk sat a girl in a strict black-and-red uniform. Light blonde hair was neatly tied in a bun, with a few unruly strands adding a touch of liveliness and charm, especially combined with her slight auburn tint and the playful freckles on her cheeks.
“Eternal Sun, Alba Maria. Come in,” the girl smiled warmly, as if greeting a long-lost friend. “I’m Oberleutnant Alicia Casado Morales.’
To her amazement, Alba realized she could understand every word perfectly — it was her native Spanish, albeit with a slightly unusual accent! Nevertheless, the auto-translator in her sub-brain kicked in:
# Language Identified: Fortaleza de la Tierra (UNSA Protectorate)
Something must have shown on her face, because the officer smiled knowingly and said, “My homeland is indeed Fortierra, so you can understand me almost without a translator.”
“Will you ever tell me about it?” Alba asked.
“Maybe.”
“But not now?”
“Exactly.”
“So, this is all just to intrigue me?”
“No, but you can think of it that way if you like,” Alicia smiled. “It’s a small test, and you’ve passed it. Congratulations. As for answers to your questions — you’ll get them in due time. The history of the UNSA Protectorate is a fascinating and multi-faceted book, but we don’t show it to just anyone, you understand?”
“Yes, Oberleutnant Casado.”
“In informal settings, you can call me Alicia. However, we do have some formalities to complete,” her voice suddenly turned sharp, the smile vanishing from her face. “Cadet Rodriguez-Marquez, stand at attention!”
Caught off guard, Alba sprang from her chair and stood rigid, instincts from her teenage volunteer police service in Valencia kicking in. Her supervisor also stood quickly, raising her right hand and pressing a fist slightly above her chest in a military salute.
“Cadet Alba Maria Rodriguez-Marquez, the UNSA Protectorate, represented by Oberleutnant Alicia Casado Morales, confirms your assignment into the Tier 0 Red Public Efficiency Class of the UNSA Protectorate. Mandatory training and service for the basic minimum term will take place in the Internal Security and Counterintelligence Service of the Protectorate.”
The officer retrieved a black-and-red token from a compartment in the desk.
“Your official token, cadet. Preparation for the installation of necessary implants and organism upgrades will begin today at 9 PM. All information will be sent immediately after updating the sub-brain program in accordance with class requirements. At ease, cadet!” Alicia sat back down with a radiant smile, transforming once more into the “classic friend.”
“I have to admit — I’ve made my decision about which side to choose. Should I speak up? Yes, definitely,” Alba thought.
“Ober...,” she began but quickly corrected herself, “Alicia, I have important information for the Protectorate.”
“Of course. Give me a brief overview, and I’ll guide you on what to do next.”
“I have information about the actions of an illegal team of renouncers within the polis. They have a cyborg with military training, an experienced robotics engineer, and a skilled AI programmer... highly skilled.”
“Go on,” the oberleutnant said after a brief pause. Her face became a mask of neutrality, her gaze fixed on Alba as if someone else was now looking through the once friendly eyes.
“They have a full hardware base for supporting a certified T6-three-plus AI, but I am certain they are hiding its true power. It’s likely a T10-plus or even higher.”
“Do you know what they need such power for?”
“Yes. On this hardware base, they have deployed a two hundred... er... ninety-nine, I’m not sure, threads AI with a combined-type simulation matrix and a universal personal agent based on proprietary software development. The quantum core of the complex has been significantly reworked, and, ahem...”
Feeling nervous, Alba suddenly felt her throat dry up, making it difficult to speak. Oberleutnant Alicia responded instantly, producing a glass from somewhere below and handing it to her.
“Here. Mineral water. Non-carbonated. Warm. Don’t worry, just say what you need to say.”
Alba took the offered glass and drank it almost in one gulp.
“A significant percentage of that power... Although, unfortunately, I don’t have precise data on exactly how much — was used exclusively to support a secondary AI in a robot android. I have every reason to believe,” Alba continued confidently after calming down, “that instead of a simulation matrix, they used a complex psycho-profile, memory, and a ‘personality imprint’ of a real person.”
“I am almost one hundred percent sure that this was based on the digitization of the biological brain structure of a deceased girl, used as a ‘personality donor.’ By all external manifestations, cognitive abilities, and behavioral psychology, this android, Alisa, behaves like a living person, but only in situations where she believes she is not being observed. Creating such artificial intelligences was strictly illegal on Earth before the Protectorate’s arrival. I don’t know how they avoided AMI’s attention, but this only confirms that they possess very serious capabilities in terms of breaking the law. I must note, all the evidence I have is circumstantial. But I am confident in my conclusions.”
“Cadet, what I’ve heard, if you can provide the necessary evidence, is very important.” Oberleutnant’s face, now full of concerned attention, emphasized the last words. “It can be circumstantial evidence, don’t worry. We will verify everything.”
“Yes, I can. I’ve already compiled it. I prepared a report for the Protectorate last night.”
“Very well. Send it here,” Alicia sent a link.
“Done.”
“Let’s wait a moment... Excellent, no, outstanding work!” Oberleutnant Casado Morales said after about a minute. “Initial checks are complete. I’ve been instructed to arrange a meeting for you with Oberst-Protector Jurgen von Scholz. Just so you know, he is the head of our entire brunch. Think carefully about what you’ll tell him and prepare thoroughly. For now, wait here, I have some tasks to attend to.”