City-21 “Kyiv,” UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
NES Factory Industrial Zone, Miro’s Criminal Lair
Maksim Chernykh and Nikola Kowalski, August 13, 2049, 9:59 AM
Max and Red were wrapping up the loading process with Jovan when an urgent message alert flashed in their AR display simultaneously.
# This is Miro. Maksim, Nikola, we need to talk. Please return immediately.
They exchanged glances, and One-Eye waved them off.
“Go ahead, I got this. The bots are doin’ all the work anyway, I’m just keepin’ an eye on things. Don’t worry, I’m gonna nail it.”
Inside, the hall was packed and bustling with noise. Despite most people being able to use augmented reality, everyone was fixated on the massive screen taking up an entire wall. It seemed to be the way they used to watch underground fights here.
Bets were being placed left and right — on both the Protectorate and Shaiszu. Some folks picked certain monsters or drones to cheer for loudly and enthusiastically. A small, nimble fighter was particularly popular. Before the excited crowd’s eyes, it dodged incoming fire and expertly blew the head off a massive spider that had just destroyed a Watch Tower. The spectators roared in admiration for the unknown pilot, speculating whether it was a human or some kind of super-alien. Tomasz, still in his wheelchair, was relishing his won bets.
Shortly after, a picture-in-picture appeared on the screen, showing host Sophia-Elisabeth Meyer in her black-and-red uniform. She kindly explained that there were recruits fighting on the front lines, just like the Earthlings watching this broadcast. And they were not only from the Red Class; Blue Class engineers with the proper training were also in the fray. Despite the danger and the risk to their lives, they were putting all their efforts and talents into protecting the citizens of their home city!
In the corner of the hall stood Miro, arms crossed over his chest, his intense gaze glued to the epic spectacle unfolding on screen. His face, as always, showed little emotion. Yet Maksim felt a chill run down his spine at the sight of the mafia boss’s expression. He and Nika silently walked over and stood in the same corner, watching the news broadcast together until the very end. Then, with a sharp nod, Miroslav indicated the entrance to the conference room, and the three of them returned to the familiar surroundings.
From a discreet cabinet in the far nook, the former professor retrieved three hefty glasses and a dark bottle of Wolfburn Morven whiskey, pouring the golden liquid for everyone.
“What a spectacular show we just witnessed, right? A brilliant display of power. My guys were entertained too...”
Max wasn’t fooled at all by the gangster’s deliberately calm tone; the slight trembling of his hands betrayed his true state.
“Prison. A goddamn prison. That’s what they have in store for us!” Miro finally burst out. “Flaunting their muscles and showing how insignificant we are compared to these fuckers. I mean both Shaiszu and the Protectorate, damn it! They’re sure all we can do is kneel before them like obedient sheep... or die. But screw them, we’re not gonna sit around like blind kittens waiting for some bastard to drown us!”
“We’ll forge our own path! Most idiots might decide after this broadcast that humanity has nothing left to rely on. They’ll give up on all the corporate armies, mighty technopolises, states, all the ‘official’ forces of the Earth — where are they and their power now, huh? Already bowing down before the Protectorate! Nothing left, no one, there are only new masters. But I refuse to accept that!”
Miro finished with a feral growl that the walls of the conference room barely contained. Then he downed the rest of his whiskey in one gulp and hurled the glass against the concrete wall, shattering it.
“Alright, to hell with emotions! Actually, that’s the topic I wanted to discuss. Or rather, I’d like to hear your thoughts. Right now, all of us, those capable of critical thinking, are trying to figure out what the fuck is going on around. What’s your opinion? Doesn’t anything seem off to you?”
The gangster looked piercingly into his guests’ eyes.
“Are you talking about the portals that have opened on Earth, spewing all kinds of crap, followed by some cosmic crusaders swooping in to save the day?” Redhead asked sarcastically.
“I think our friend means something else,” Max said. “He’s more likely referring to the social aspect of these events.”
“Exactly,” Miro nodded. “I’ve seen different wars, studied various occupation concepts — enough to draw some conclusions now... What do you think, Maksim?”
“I think the same as you. It all seems staged, like a choreographed act. All these classes, countless constructions, especially those giant Watch Towers. And the battle we just saw, it looked way too cinematic. Like watching a high-budget New-Hollywood movie…”
“And didn’t those Towers remind you of anything, you runaway fugitive?”
“Dammit, Miro, are you eager so much for me to say that the Wall is a perimeter to keep cataloged, tagged, and ordered people in this reservation? Well, yeah, that’s exactly it. Just like on the borders of the Russian Empire, where the watchtowers were faced inward, towards their own, to prevent escapes!”
“Absolutely,” Miro nodded, raising his finger. “From this, I conclude that we, humans, are needed for something. And Shaiszu too. It’s obvious the Protectorate, with their technology, could have crushed this monstrous army without letting them near the city borders. As well as using regular Earthlings only made the battle more complicated, rather than ensured victory.”
He sat in a comfortable chair, drummed his fingers on the armrest, then abruptly stood up and paced the room a few times.
“It’s clear the Protectorate has enough tech to fight them successfully, but the monsters serve as the ‘bogeyman’ to instill fear in the locals, who, in turn, would pray and obey to their almighty protectors. We’ve seen this in our own country before. Scaring everyone with external enemies, drilling into their heads that only discipline, obedience to the ruler, and unity around the emperor can save them.”
“Even if that’s the case,” Redhead interjected, “why the hell do they need humans at all? Ain’t like they’re trying to satisfy some ‘imperial ambitions,’ right? They’re way more advanced than us, so they should have grown out of that basic shit a long time ago.”
“The most plausible thing I can think of,” Miro shrugged, continuing to pace back and forth, “is that our planet is being used for some kind of behavioral experiment. Studying Earthlings’ reactions to specific situations — our thoughts, emotions, actions. Otherwise, why such deep intellectual testing and class divisions? Maybe these are test groups or something? I don’t know, it’s complicated... But I really don’t like any of this.”
“I doubt they’d waste so many resources and efforts on a mere experiment,” Maksim countered. “No, they need something vital from us terrestrials. We just don’t know what it is yet. And there’s another player interested in human resources too. They might not be any better than the rest, but so far, their offer is the most acceptable.”
“You mean TACTA?” Miroslav grunted thoughtfully. “I figure they’re just different covers on the same rotten book. But right now, we’re like a wolf caught in a trap. Ready to do whatever it takes to ditch this damn piece of junk that’s got us stuck here. And to think that only yesterday I was planning to stay put and tell all those aliens to fuck off!”
“Jebem ti sunce, everything was so simple yesterday,” the gangster continued bitterly. “My guys took down 19 Shaiszu, and even snagged one alive. It was straightforward — fight, kill, or be killed. I was planning to develop this base in Kyiv. Who the hell would care about my Factory in the Protectorate? But now...”
Miro stopped pacing and returned to the table.
“After this damn theater show, my guts tell me they need ALL of us. And the only option left is to run. Run like hell. Even now, with these Towers, it’s going to be incredibly tough. And when they finish building their Wall? Not even an ant, let alone a fucking mouse, will get through! So, if I have to choose — I’d rather deal with the two-faced bastards who allow me some room to move over the damn totalitarian pricks…”
“You have a large group. Has anyone made a deal with TACTA yet? Or is that still off the table?” Max asked, moving to the heart of what really interested him.
“If you’re talking about my boys, no. Everyone held off. There were… circumstances. But there are some folks at the Factory who clearly jumped at the chance. Thanks to them, my analysts now have access to the extranet. They’re not the cooperative type, so we had to make them an offer they couldn’t refuse…”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“The Linkers, you mean them?” Nikola took a small sip of whiskey and winced — it was really strong stuff!
“Uh-huh, I figured you’d hook up and hit it off.” Miro smirked. “You seem to have something in common. But I wouldn’t advise you to put all your eggs in their basket. Only the two of you won’t manage, even after joining forces. You’ll be crushed at the Towers’ gates.”
He pulled out a cigarette case from his jacket, lit his famous roll-up, and took a deep drag, glancing thoughtfully at Max.
“It’s going to be tough. Summoning a damn TACTA Drone and surviving it. Reaching the Towers before they build the Wall — and not getting caught. Escaping the city, passing through the ‘exclusion zone’. And then, in the ‘big world,’ surviving, fighting monsters and… other humans, no less. Idealists like you can’t make it if you’re staying with a small group of like-minded folks.”
Nikola snorted angrily, glaring at him.
“So, you’re kindly suggesting we come under your warm wing, przebiegły lis? We’ve been doing fine on our own so far. And here you’re trying to scare us, treating like ‘green fools,’ which you clearly think we are. How the hell are you different from the protes now?”
“When the Mad Fox calls me a Cunning Fox, it’s really a compliment.” The ‘Bloody Professor’ chuckled. “But let’s get serious. Being a proud small independent team feels nice and all. But do you know, Redhead, what ambitions your young partner is harboring? Have you got any idea what games he’s aiming to play? When someone looks that high, he won’t settle for small potatoes. And that will become your downfall!”
“What are you implying, Mr. Gorich?” Maksim frowned. “You can speak openly, by the way, I have no secrets from Nikola.”
“Oh, wow, how admirable. Well, you asked for it.” Miro took another drag, shortening his cigarette significantly. “Your android is as far from T6-three-plus as I am from being Saint Maria-Theresa. You integrated her with the personality matrix of your little sister. That very Alisa Chernykh, who died in October 2042. I didn’t say for nothing that my analysts gained access to the extranet.”
The room fell into tense silence as the mafia boss found an ashtray and extinguished his cigarette.
“Finding information about you was easy. And for someone who knows the field, putting two and two together was even easier. You’ve broken laws of both human governments and the aliens. Alisa can pretend to be a robot assistant all she wants. But I once lost freedom because of my obsession with cybernetics and progress. Believe me, I know where to look. And I’m fully convinced — you solved that problem, and managed, even if it is in digital form, to fully revive a dead person. I don’t believe she is just an emulation!”
“First, you have no proof.” Maksim raised an eyebrow, smirking at the older man. “Sure, I tried, even made a body resembling my sister. But it didn’t work out. Everything you’ve been looking at so intently is just advanced AI, nothing more.”
“Second,” the guy continued, not allowing any interruptions, and even started counting on his fingers for emphasis. “Even if that were true — so what? Earth’s laws no longer apply. The A.M.I. bastards, if they’re even still alive, have bigger issues than me. Shaiszu are trying to kill every human they encounter, and I’m no exception. To the Protectorate, I’m already an outlaw — same as Nikola, Tomasz, and most of your ‘boys.’ Hence, what changes because of that situation?”
“Finally, third,” he raised his hand to show he was counting to three. “You think you understand me, but I doubt it. I do have my own thoughts and desires about the damn circus currently happening on Earth. But if I were as foolish as you suggest, it would be impossible to achieve even half of what I have so far.”
Now it was Max’s turn to get up and start pacing the room.
“I might be crazy, but I’m actually a grounded person. It’s pretty much obvious for me how pointless it is to try ‘bending the world to your will’ if you don’t have the power for it. Thus, you need to survive for starters, get that very power, and only then think about those high flights and such nonsense.”
He stopped and looked Miroslav straight into the eyes.
“And to be honest, when it comes to those high flights — I’m not sure our paths will align, Mr. Gorich. It is still uncertain what you’ll be doing next, what your goals and means will be. But that’s already clear that your people come first for you. The whole organization you lead, with all its connections, laws, and unwritten rules. And its members who expect certain behavior from you.”
“I might be a gangster,” Miro chuckled, “but I don’t think we’re all that different. Moreover, my guts tell me that people like us, who have been outside the law and the whole system from the beginning, are humanity’s last hope now. The Protectorate has subdued corporations, polises, and states. They came to a ready-made setup and are just reconfiguring everything for themselves. But we’re beyond that! The connections with our brothers overseas and in Asia have already been established. All those who were fighting each other just yesterday are ready to unite against the common enemy…”
After a moment of silence, Miroslav finally sighed, seemingly deciding to let go of the matter. Apparently, he realized that pushing further would yield no benefit.
“Anyway, I’ve stated my position. If you ever find it acceptable, you can always join us. With your accomplishments, Maksim, you could contribute significantly to humanity. I don’t know who else is hiding underground back in your clinic, but they seem competent guys. Your knowledge and skills could be invaluable. And I believe it would be easier to achieve your goals within our ranks. But if you have your own path — no hard feelings. Confrontation would only make things worse for everyone right now. We have more important tasks — like saving our lives.”
“Great.” Max discreetly exhaled. Without an agreement with Gorich, their chances of success would have significantly diminished. “So, you’re ready to make a deal with TACTA if it ensures a way out of Kyiv for you and your men?”
“Yes,” Miro confirmed. “As I said, I’ll choose the lesser of two evils. From what I understand, they offer technologies necessary to get past the Towers. My analysts are currently digging through TACTA’s catalog to figure out what exactly to buy. It helps that we have a lot of people — that makes it possible to get more of their currency after summoning the Drone. But it’s still hard to estimate how many points my guys will get, and what’s the best way to spend them on.”
“This is where we can actually help. I’ve just sent you an estimate table of points earned per person upon initiation. You can calculate more precisely using TACTA’s questionnaire in their app, but it’s very complex and lengthy. My table will help you map out the situation faster. If you encounter any difficulties, reach out. Alisa can help if she has available resources.” Maksim smiled and made a broad gesture with his hands.
“Here’s also a set of key technologies that I believe are essential for escaping Kyiv. These are what my team will use. In short, it includes a stealth module, additional radio frequency and infrared camouflage, communication modules, and of course, a thermonuclear reactor to power all this energy-hungry beauty.”
Miroslav froze for a moment, scanning the package of information that had appeared in augmented reality and forwarding it to his specialists. Then, he broke into a satisfied grin.
“I knew it was wise not to push you too hard or pick a fight, even if you’re still a kid! Seriously, you’ve earned my respect; I fully understand the value of this data. Maybe my guys could have found this themselves — just as they might have missed it. While time’s ticking, we need to prepare the Drone summoning. I’ve seen how tricky it is to navigate that catalog. And I noticed some of the data you sent isn’t easily found.”
“If we’re cooperating, it should to the full extent. Otherwise, it’s pointless,” Maksim responded. “But to clarify, we’re unlikely to join you in the end. You’re gearing up for a revolution, and I fundamentally don’t participate in such things. You can’t win in revolutions; it’s only possible to die in them. My goal is to get out of Kyiv. Alive. Evacuate my team members, also alive. Haul Alisa’s hardware out. We’ll help you because together we stand a better chance. But that’s it. Mutually beneficial cooperation is all what we need.”
“You didn’t tell me all this for no reason. That means, you have a request,” Miro noted.
“Right,” Max agreed. “We need a good all-terrain truck, its technical preparation, and escape routes from the Factory, similar to the tunnel we used to get here. A reliable, smuggling, closed exit. Considering that we’ll be leaving under stealth, of course.”
“That’s possible,” Miroslav thought for a moment. “But it’s a VERY expensive service. What can you offer in return? Maintenance for cyborgs and good pharmaceuticals won’t cut it.”
“I haven’t seen a single drone nearby your base or in here. All your AIs, however many you had — are probably in the ‘red.’ Is that correct?”
“Fair enough. We’ve had something serious stuff… but not anymore, you guessed right,” Miro admitted.
“T6+++, without citizenship?”
“T7+, smuggled.”
“So, all your drones, which are crucial for escape, are currently dead weight because there’s no one to operate them. And without drones, you can’t flee Kyiv, even with stealth modules. I have a T10-three-plus and I’ve already arranged the communications. We can effectively get ALL your birds in the air. Unless you have millions of them, of course.”
Miro chuckled.
“And here you claim nothing worked out and your AI is just a student project?”
Max just shrugged, as if saying, “What do you want me to answer?”
After that, the negotiations turned specified, discussing the technical parameters of the truck, the escape routes from the Factory, and how all this could be organized. Miro indeed had secret passages not marked on maps or catalogs, leading to several repair bases. These were originally designed for smuggling; hence the routes were highly secretive, and the Protectorate hadn’t reached them with their sweeps yet. If Max activated the stealth right away, it would be possible to take back roads to the Ring Expressway and attempt to cross it. Obviously, traffic there had already ceased — preparations for Wall construction were underway all over the city borders.
When the discussion moved beyond planning a single Drone summon, Alisa and even Dasha had to join the conversation, along with Miroslav’s analysts.
The Linkers were also engaged. They were the only ones who could ensure connecting the “drone controllers” through their communication modules. A total of 18 drone swarms would be involved in the operation. This would suffice for needs of Miro, the Linkers, and Maksim’s group. Each team would proceed on their separate transports, under camouflage and aerial coverage.
Negotiations with the uncooperative “Kitty” were handled by Nika, while Maksim, Alisa, and Dasha, along with Professor Gorich’s analysts, worked out the timing for the upcoming operation. Nikola had a lengthy discussion with Leonardo over a secure line, followed by a conversation with Lena. Finally, Redhead returned with a triumphant look, having secured the bloggers’ agreement to join the mission.
As the meeting drew to a close, Maksim slyly smiled and asked Miro if he had information on other teams that might want to partner with TACTA. How many such people were there at the Factory?
----------------------------------------
After a long time, accompanied by the professor, Max and Nika passed through a maze of doors, corridors, and staircases.
In the end, they warmly bid Miro farewell, and entered the first airlock chamber at the street exit, where a fully loaded large cargo roboplatform was already awaiting them.
A smaller transporting bot held a securely fastened capsule with their future patient, Zoran. Atop the tarp-covered pile of weapon crates and equipment sat a bottle of whiskey and a small packet of “herbs.”
“A small gesture but appreciated! Good people...” Nikola smiled, examining the gifts.
“Indeed. A productive outing, I’d say! Let’s head back now; great achievements await us!” With these words, Maksim unlocked the outer gates and led the platform outside, heading towards the clinic.