City 21 “Kyiv”, UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
Rusanivka Island, Headquarters of the Internal Security Service of the Protectorate
Alba Maria Rodriguez Marquez, 8:25 AM
She didn’t have to wait long. Nevertheless, the Spaniard used the short time she had efficiently, deciding to refine and improve her report to the maximum. Distant memories of that long-ago, accidentally overheard conversation between Maxim and his sister. The nuances of his intonation during their last meeting, when he casually mentioned he was leaving the city. A detailed psychological profile and a list of his acquired skills, not forgetting to mention his paranoid caution and numerous military training courses.
The girl brushed aside the anxiety pounding in her temples and the heartache that occasionally gripped her — she immersed herself in analytical work. If she was going to play, she’d play to win!
Alba had already sketched out a vague psychological profile of Nikola, considering their brief acquaintance, and her assumed qualifications as a military-trained cyborg. Upon reviewing what she’d written, she gave a contented chuckle and started working on a detailed dossier on Daria Vasilevskaya.
“Well, congratulations, cadet,” a polite and friendly voice pulled her back to reality. Ober-lieutenant Alicia Casado had evidently finished her virtual negotiations. “You have a meeting with the head of the service, Oberst-Protector von Scholz.”
After seeing an understanding nod, Alicia continued:
“The consequences of your ‘bombshell report,’ if everything checks out, will echo throughout the entire Protectorate! You don’t realize it yet, but Directive ‘9/00’ has never been fully, completely enforced before. Sure, there have been suspicions, we investigated them – and they all turned out to be false. However, my intuition tells me that this time we’ll have to run around quite a bit… By the way, don’t worry, you’ll be involved too, and quite a lot! Consider this the beginning of your training. Double the usual amount. And yes, don’t forget about the medical appointment this evening. Do you see the scheduled meeting in the app?”
“Yes. Enthusiast Street, building one. The neighboring building?”
“Exactly. On the first floor, there’s an exchange terminal; I recommend connecting to the Protectorate’s financial system immediately. Your account is already open as a Red Class citizen. There’s an important nuance — when you access the system, you’ll receive an initial credit amount that depends on various indicators, including, of course, your Public Efficiency Class. Note that the first time it can take quite a while — up to thirty minutes, but you’ll be informed before the operation, and if necessary, you can opt out. So, you don’t have much time; use it wisely.”
“Thank you, I will. Where can I find more information about the financial system?”
“Install the wallet app while you walk; you can’t manage money without it anyway. It includes detailed information on how the system works. Off you go, cadet! After the meeting, I expect you back in my office; we have a lot of work before evening. Long Sun!”
“Long Sun, Ober-lieutenant,” Alba responded formally and left the office.
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An hour later, richer by 142,280.28 sols and having spent a quarter of one sol on a quick breakfast, she stopped in front of the office door. They had even managed to change the plaque — “Head of the 4th Division of the Internal Security Service of the Protectorate, Oberst-Protector Jurgen von Scholz.”
The doors open, revealing a small room, apparently intended for an adjutant, operations officer, or referent, but currently empty. Alba looked around — there was a desk with a chair in front, familiar banners behind it, a few cabinets, and a mini-kitchen section with coffee and various teas. The furniture was unusual, exclusively functional. Ergonomic shapes strangely combined with dull gray tones, without the slightest decoration.
She had never seen such a design before… it occurred to her that everything here had recently been 3D-printed to a special project and arranged as if the owner was moving in for the umpteenth time. Like the process was finely tuned and automated. The windows were tightly curtained, and the comfortably dim artificial light created a working atmosphere. It seemed like a place where one could lose track of time, engrossed in work, without distractions from the sunrises and sunsets.
Through the slightly open door on the left, she saw von Scholz’s office — a similarly colorless functional interior encouraging work — and entered confidently:
“Eternal Sun, Oberst-Protector! Cadet Rodriguez reporting as ordered,” Alba declared, raising her hand in a military salute she had quickly learned. She stood at attention as recommended in the sub-brain program for Red Class citizens, which she had also installed and studied.
Upon closer inspection, the spacious office’s environment proved equally functional. The furniture was prepared to the same project, though there was little of it — a huge T-shaped desk with holographic projections hanging at impossible angles and intersecting here and there, a chair, and visitor seats. Along the wall, besides the familiar banners of the Protectorate, Internal Security Service, and Class flags, there was also the coat of arms of the von Scholz family — an unfamiliar black heraldic beast on a red-yellow background.
However, Alba’s attention was immediately captured by the man sitting at the desk.
“Jurgen von Scholz, huh… Impressive! Joder, he looks a bit like Max, but… more brutal. Damn, what am I even thinking about? Focus, Alba!”
The man tore himself away from the virtual screens and, giving her a disinterested glance, said: “At ease, cadet. Sit down,” he nodded to the nearest chair to the left of the long bar of the desk.
“Sorry, Max… It was you who started this Game… But now it’s my turn to make a move!” she thought, sitting down, and reported briefly: “I’m ready, Oberst-Protector.”
“Good,” von Scholz nodded. “No need to repeat what’s already in the report; I’ve read it. The updated version too. Analysts are currently gathering material on all the subjects you mentioned. You’ll join them later and assist. But first, I want to hear from you personally why you believe Alisa is ‘alive’.”
“Oberst-Protector, I understand that the term might be poorly chosen, but I wanted to convey moments that I can’t yet clearly formalize. Her psycho-emotional reactions, behavior, and logic, especially when this… being believes it’s not being observed… All this led me to use that term. Of course, I understand that technically it’s an artificial intelligence using an android body.”
“Cadet Rodriguez Marquez, let’s set the terminology aside for now,” Jurgen said with a hint of annoyance, as if irritated that his time was being wasted on obvious truths. “You didn’t come to these conclusions by accident, and I’m interested in the ‘why’? Explain thoroughly. If necessary, I'll ask you to omit certain parts.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Alright. I'll start with the fact that I studied at the Polytechnic University of Technopolis Valencia. The dean of the Faculty of Artificial Intelligence, Professor Manuel Jimenez, is my uncle. I met Maksim Chernykh at his house, and we were a couple for a while…” Alba sighed slightly, “though that’s irrelevant now.”
“Continue, cadet.”
“You see, my uncle is a specialist in these types of software developments, so I’ve dealt with AI of the highest levels. And I can’t imagine a similar… machine… clinging to a person’s shirt, calling him brother, and tearfully talking about its fears. Some sex toys, of course, can emulate similar activity at the owner’s request. But I’m absolutely sure, such behavior would not please Maksim and would make him uncomfortable. He treated her like… a living being. Like someone, he couldn’t command or impose his will on.”
“Overall, Max activities when we first met raised a lot of suspicions and questions. Constant secrecy, though that could be explained by fear of A.M.I. That’s…”
“I know. Continue,” von Scholz interrupted.
“I believe Maksim had some desperate interest in high technology, especially related to Artificial Intelligence. And an obvious understatement of his own achievements. Given the circumstances, it’s hard to explain this situation any other way.”
She paused slightly, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves: “I knew that Maksim was a refugee from Russia, shortly before the final of the war. He didn’t publicize his past, but I checked later; he is indeed the son of Professor Sergey Chernykh, who was repressed and later executed in a special concentration camp. The professor worked on creating ‘human’ thinking and even ‘transferring consciousness’ onto an AI base of category T9-three-plus or higher. He even received a Nobel Prize for theoretically proving such a possibility.”
“We’ll verify this information. Continue,” von Scholz said, sending the relevant order.
“Maksim studied under my uncle, who in turn was a student of Sergey Chernykh during the six-year ‘thaw’ in relations with the Russian Empire. Manuel Jimenez worked on the issue theoretically, since developing such AI is prohibited by law, but Max actually had a practical interest in it.
I found this out purely by chance due to a series of circumstances because he never talked about it with me, nor did he share his plans with anyone except Daria Vasilevskaya. I mentioned her in the report as well.”
“It’s clear for now,” von Scholz nodded, listening intently, and cross-referencing her narrative with the open report text, making notes in the analytical system as they spoke. “So, cadet, tell me about this episode. It’s present in the report, but I want to hear it from you.”
“Yes, Oberst-Protector. As I mentioned, we had a… sexual relationship. That day we were supposed to meet, but Max expected me only in the evening because I had university classes… and I had never skipped them before. Except for that time. Arriving early, I used the key to his hotel room I had, and overheard the end of their conversation…”
When Alba finished recounting the detailed story, Jurgen von Scholz sat in silence for a while, indicating with a brief “Wait a minute, cadet.”
“Alright,” the Oberst-Protector resumed after the pause. “This sounds convincing enough to start working on Directive 9/00. We will verify all the information we can gather in this direction. There’s no guarantee it’s exactly what we’re looking for, but the mere fact of a powerful AI not controlled by the Protectorate being on our territory is more than sufficient to take all necessary measures for its neutralization.”
“The Game has begun! The die is cast, and all bridges are burned, as Maksim would say… except now he’s part of the Fight himself. Well, I’ve done my part and will now focus on my career,” Alba thought with satisfaction.
As if hearing her thoughts, the Oberst-Protector continued:
“Now I find it necessary to talk about you. And your role in my service. You didn’t end up here by accident. I don’t mean this office,” he gestured vaguely, indicating the surrounding space, “but the entire Red Class and the Internal Security Service specifically. Testing showed you’re a capable specialist with potential... I want to know — what do you want? What are your goals regarding these… subjects? Maksim Chernykh? Alisa Chernykh?”
“Our goals align here — you want them destroyed, and so do I!”
“That sounds overly emotional,” Jurgen raised an eyebrow and looked at the agitated girl with irony. “I’m afraid your actions are driven by personal hatred. They aren’t strangers to you, and you haven’t ‘let go’ of the situation completely. Such feelings are poor guides in our work. What if I told you our goal isn’t their destruction?”
“Oberst-Protector von Scholz! Please don’t doubt me! For me, dealing with enemies isn’t an end in itself. My goal is to be in a strong team whose objectives I genuinely and fully support. I won’t hide it; I received an offer to renounce my citizenship and go underground — but without hesitation, I chose the Protectorate.”
“Good, I like that you’re honest. We would have found out anyway, but it’s good I heard it from you first. Did Maksim Chernykh make this offer?”
“Well, it wasn’t quite an offer,” Alba blushed. “It was a discussion with Maksim’s team, which included Daria Vasilevskaya and the cyborg Nikola, whose last name I don’t know.
I tried to convince them not to be foolish and join the Protectorate… because Max and Dasha are talented engineers, and Nikola is a very skilled fighter. Her legs were injured, but she managed to take down three shaiszu practically bare-handed! Sorry for being so emotional, but it’s still hard to handle the shock when I recall that incident. In the fight, she used a crossbow, a knife, and also a shotgun. And she won, although that weapon alone was clearly insufficient. I didn’t include this episode in the report, but I will add it as soon as I can, Oberst-Protector!”
“Good,” von Scholz noted. “I have another question. You mentioned Maksim is a refugee from the war zone. The report states he has combat experience; tell me more.”
“Yes, he had this strange hobby…” the Spaniard replied thoughtfully. “He regularly visited a shooting range, is well-versed in modern weapons… Actively participated in hardball battles. Well, hardball is when the shooting is…”
“I know what strikeball and hardball are,” the Oberst-Protector interrupted. “No need to explain. Continue.”
“I saw Maksim shoot. It’s… something else. He’s like a robot — emotionless, precise, it feels like he only takes a shot when he’s sure he’ll hit the target. This episode is also in my report. Besides, Maksim knows how to provide first aid; he even has a valid certificate, as he regularly took refresher courses. It looks like he was constantly preparing for war. I say this because he wasn’t interested in similar-themed computer games. He was only interested in practical experience.”
“Well,” von Scholz replied. “I’m not surprised. What can you say about Alisa? Do you know anything detailed about her?”
“No, Oberst-Protector. Only what I mentioned in the report. I can add that her body is based on one of the open platforms; it seems to be OHR, but I’m not sure. Externally, she looks like a regular assistant android with no special hardware features. If I’m not mistaken, she’s certified as an android of category T6 because the ‘insides’ are quite simple.
The main work is done by their AI ‘Moira,’ which Maksim never showed anyone. Of course, he could have built a more powerful robot, but didn’t, because a technical level of T7 or higher requires digital citizenship. When asked why he needed ‘Alisa,’ he always answered, ‘she’s just a secretary and housekeeper’.”
“Understood,” Jurgen von Scholz nodded, “and lastly, Daria Vasilevskaya. Anything special about her?”
“She’s… strange. Besides being a good programmer and developer, Dasha is likely also a biohacker. I’ve encountered her several times vaping bright orange vapor. Most often, that’s what ‘synth’ looks like, a rather harsh synthetic drug causing strong addiction and serious degradation, both physically and intellectually. But she doesn’t look like an addict in the last stages of ‘synth.’ Which means she knows how to cleanse her body and fight dependency.”
“Cadet, clarify, do you know how ‘synth’ is used professionally? It’s not just a drug, right?”
“Yes, Oberst-Protector. Besides the usual ‘junkies,’ some hacker schools and developers or programmers specializing in Deep-VR use it. If necessary, I can prepare a detailed report?”
“That makes sense. I’ll give the relevant order to your curator,” Jurgen von Scholz said, checking the time in augmented reality. “We’ll return to this topic later. For now, the main point — if this team is as good as you say, they’ll be hard to catch. We need more substantial reasons for… Him. For the Great Father, the True Keeper of Thought, the Embodiment of the Eternal Sun, I mean.”
Alba watched closely but couldn’t determine what emotions von Scholz put into those words. But emotions were definitely there.
“So, I need a person,” the Oberst-Protector continued, “who knows their mindset well enough to predict the wanted individuals’ actions and help set a trap. Let me emphasize — our goal is to capture them ALIVE. ALL of them. Do you consider yourself competent enough to handle such a task?”
“Yes, Oberst-Protector,” Alba jumped up. “I won’t fail the Protectorate… or you!”