City-21 “Kyiv,” UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
NES Factory Industrial Zone, Medical Center “Lizard’s Tail”
Maksim Chernykh’s Team, August 13, 2049, 10:55 AM
“Home, sweet home!” Nika exclaimed, stepping routinely into the cozy restroom cubicle, which, after scanning her eye with an ophthalmoscope, transformed into an elevator, as usual.
“Don’t get too comfy; we aren’t staying long here,” Maksim remarked with a chuckle, while their small convoy lined, ready to descend into the underground base.
Given the volume of cargo, they had to split up. Maksim and Miro’s nephew went down first, followed by Nikola shortly. Fortunately, Zelman had anticipated possible need for loading large items — the entire wall could shift, providing ample access to the elevator. Otherwise, the large cargo platform wouldn’t have fit through the door!
While waiting for Alisa, the two “earners” began unloading their acquisitions.
“I’m here,” the android girl entered the room. “The operation room is ready. Given Zoran’s critical condition and our plans to leave the Factory soon, we’d better act fast. I’ve already asked Dasha to be on standby — in case I need her assistance or any other help.”
“By the way,” Nika paused while setting down another heavy crate, with her curiosity piqued, “is it really necessary for you to be there? You could probably control everything remotely, right?”
“I... well, of course, I could,” Alisa replied with a slightly embarrassed look, almost as if apologizing. “And I can manage it with just a few threads, actually. But... it’s hard to explain… it goes against everything we know. I just sense the need to be there. You know, lately there is this feeling that physical presence of the body I recognize as myself might impact success in critical moments. Like performing a complex operation more effectively. So... I’ll be there in person. And at least with my primary thread. Why, did you need something?”
“No, it’s all good,” Nikola laughed, “Just curious, don’t worry. Honestly, I get it. Remember, I told you I believe in something like a soul? So why not the possibility of influencing circumstances… maybe even with the energy of our identities…”
“Alright, girls, enough with the esoteric nonsense. Time is of the essence,” Max grumbled, urging everyone back to their tasks. “Though I’ll actually feel better if Alisa is in the operating room. You never know what kind of help the patient might need.”
[Huh, you’re always like that], Dasha confronted him and pouted in the chat, having apparently listened to this conversation through the network, as usual. [Every time frowning on such talks, you bore! But we do need to hurry. Hence, Alisa, I’m already waiting for you. Yeah!]
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Alisa, of course, had done preliminary preparations for this complex operation as soon as she received the extensive package of medical data on Zoran. However, considering Zelman had taken almost all the cybernetic organs, implants, and a significant portion of consumables, it turned out to be quite the challenge!
The situation was saved only by the fact that the Factory still had other residents trading in cyber-medical supplies, some of which, “out of habit,” still operated online and even accepted eddies and hryvnias as payment. Alisa confirmed this before agreeing to the surgery. After all, the clinic simply didn’t have the appropriate cybernetic heart, the keystone of the entire procedure!
The patient arrived in a medically induced coma, connected to artificial respiration and circulation devices. So, all that was left was to transport him to the operating room, remove any obstructive clothing, and begin diagnostics, preparing for the next stages.
The automated systems managed all this just fine under Alisa’s strict supervision. Looking at her concentrated eyes and tense expression, one could hardly believe that many of her other threads were possibly engaged in entirely different tasks...
Dasha, staying present throughout the process, just shrugged, not understanding if she was ever needed here.
“So… why was I tasked with undressing Maxim if the robot can handle it perfectly? Well, I’m not complaining… even saved the video. But does that mean Alisa was teasing me? No, that can’t be!”
Vasilevskaya dismissed the silly thoughts and obediently sat on the stool in front of the transparent partition. Watching the surgical manipulators move over the patient’s body, she relaxed and drifted into slow contemplation.
“Back in the uni, I’ve seen shaiszu kill people and drag their bodies away. But then, in the fear and rush of escape, it felt distant, not something that truly touched me. Like watching a movie. I had to run, to save myself. Now, I see an actual person, though a stranger, lying so close to me, on the brink of life and death. Because he wasn’t ready for the fight, despite all his augmentations. Something similar happened to Max. And dad… what if that occur to him? Here and now, it all feels so real... and terrifying, in its stark reality.”
“How I wish I could change… at least something. Give people what they need to be stronger, or smarter. But what can I do? I’m not tricky, agile, and strong like Nika. I don’t have multiple threads and fast thinking like Alisa. And I don’t understand the world like Max. Honestly, I absolutely don’t understand this world or these people… Humans at all, to be exact. But I still want to help. In fact, who am I? A software developer, a ‘nurturer’ and ‘navigator’ for artificial intelligences. Maybe the System I’ve read about so much in Royal Road stories is the only thing within my power. But looks like that’s not so little. If it can ease someone’s pain or extend their life by even a day, then it’s worth it…”
So, in a sort of half-meditative state, Dasha drifted through her thoughts without clinging to any one in particular. It seemed she even dozed off with her eyes open. She apparently needed this moment of quiet. This time when she physically couldn’t engage in other tasks, like working with the Ravens, designing the enhanced Moira, complex planning, or desperately drowning her stress and accumulated fear in alcohol.
A moment of pause and respite.
While the smart surgeon’s manipulators worked their magic over the unconscious body of the young Serb.
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Maksim and Nikola finished unloading and sent both platforms back to the welcoming company “Consultant M.” Now, in the kitchen, they began reviewing their newly acquired equipment in AR and planning their next moves. After all, where better to plot world domination? With these very words, Redhead dragged Max to the kitchen table, armed with yet another protein bar and a cup of coffee.
Soon, a quiet and somewhat pensive Dasha joined them. Though, she quickly snapped out of her reverie and actively joined the discussion. An hour into the operation, “Doctor Alisa” arrived, drawn by the sound of voices. The kitchen welcomed her with heated debates about their strategy and potential risks.
“Hi, we were waiting for you,” Maksim smiled at his sister, who was surprised to find the animated group gesticulating wildly. And the table littered with wrappers of protein bars and candies.
“Waiting for me to make a proper lunch, apparently?” the android asked with a deceptively polite smile.
“It’s their health that depends on food, not mine! But why does it seem I’m the only one concerned about this?”
“Uh... no, not for that,” Max a bit stumbled over his words. “We have an agreement with Miro and the Linkers, and the date is set. Now, it’s time to file a group request for the Drone. This is your moment to shine, sis! You’re the most proficient here in predicting on getting TACTA’s grants, and, of course, navigating their catalog.”
“We’ve gone over everything we have again,” he continued, bringing up in AR a table of their ‘arsenal,’ from weapons and ammunition to the technical specs of the truck, which was already prepared. “Miro confirmed that the vehicle is waiting. Now we need to finalize what we’ll order from TACTA. I checked the Informatorium; complex equipment needs to be booked in advance, and the minimum order time for the reactor and communicator is about to run out. We won’t make it if we miss the window!”
“Alright,” Alisa smiled. “Of course. The preliminary list is ready. Here are the essential things, the ones we absolutely cannot ignore. Critically important, as Max would say.”
The pre-prepared list appeared in AR:
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✔ Group Drone call (considering the 30% discount available for four people or more)
999 x 4 - 30% = 2800 grants (rounded)
✔ Premium service “1 Minute of Additional Protection.” The Drone does not leave immediately after completing the order. Instead, it remains on site for up to ten minutes. Its protective field continues to operate, providing a safe window for us to evacuate the call location.
Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.
999 x 10 = 9990 grants (rounded)
✔ Premium service “Protectorate Zone.” The Drone deploys a camouflage field “gray mist,” impenetrable to hyperspectral and optical surveillance systems. Operates within a 10m protective zone around the Drone. Active until the Drone departs.
5000 grants
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“They’re really critically important!” Maksim even leaned forward, studying the list. “We need to make it as difficult as possible for the Protectorate to identify and chase us.”
“Exactly. That’s what I’ve said. Next is an estimate of how many points we’re likely to get, based on my preliminary assessment.”
A new list unfolded before the attentive viewers:
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✔ Maksim 160,000 grants
✔ Darya 180,000 grants
✔ Nikola 150,000 grants
✔ Alisa 300,000 grants
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“Are you sure?” Nika asked thoughtfully. “I trust you, but… we gave Miro completely different numbers for his guys. These figures seem way off!”
“That’s natural,” Alisa nodded. “The actual number of grants varies greatly between individuals. It depends on the degree and quality of cyborgization, how effectively implants are used, and a billion other hard-to-formalize parameters. But my estimate is accurate enough to rely on.”
“Well,” the android continued, “you see the total sum; it looks good for now. But, unfortunately, the 100,000 grants will go immediately for a special comprehensive upgrade for me. It’s for full cyborgs with only a human brain and a small part of the spinal cord remaining. That’s the category TACTA places me in.”
She paused, looking at the team, as if expecting objections. But none came, so she smiled slightly and went on.
“Thus, the team will have approximately 690,000 grants left, accounting for potential discrepancies. Now, let’s count the essential equipment”.
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✔ Semi-portable fusion reactor, 160 x 220 x 90 cm. Approximate weight 740 kg.
290,000 grants
✔ Stealth module, including a core about 60 x 80 x 120 cm, with racks, sensors, antennas, emitters, and other components. Approximate weight 185 kg.
250,000 grants
✔ Medium-class Gravity-Ripple Communicators with Quantum channel. This version is expensive and has limited range, instead providing necessary communication security within the Protectorate zone.
Maximum transmission range 5400 km, reaching TACTA’s orbital relays, and we won’t need to purchase communication services anymore. Weight 10 kg.
100,000 grants
✔ Mobile Thermal Regulation System with heat absorption cartridges.
Used for cooling Moira’s blocks without releasing heat into the environment, avoiding detection by hot air trails. Approximate weight of modules and connection system: 50 kg.
8250 grants
Additional equipment:
✔ Radio frequency module for counter-radar measures. Approximate weight 2 kg.
2000 grants
✔ Sound camouflage module (XXL). Approximate weight 4 kg.
9000 grants
✔ Odor masking system for the truck. Approximate weight 12 kg.
3000 grants
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“And we should definitely keep a reserve for contingencies. But I’m 100% confident in my estimations. That’s pretty much it.”
“Wow, you’ve surely made the most use of your time,” Maksim mused, examining the figures, and pondering the data. “Hmm, trying to recall load capacity and volume of our truck. You say the reactor weighs 740 kilograms and is about the size of an industrial refrigerator… Yeah, that’s fine! And it can even be lifted by a manual hydraulic pallet jack. There’s plenty of such stuff around the Factory.”
“Yeah,” Alisa agreed. “It’s not called ‘semi-portable’ for nothing. You could probably even put it on wheels and roll it around. Too bad the TACTA folks didn’t think of that. We should suggest it if we ever meet.”
“Perfect.” Max smiled at his sister’s unexpected business acumen or perhaps her budding sense of sarcasm. “So, we’re ordering it all?”
“Wait, I have a suggestion,” Dasha interjected unexpectedly. “Let’s also get micro communication modules, simple ones, without the quantum channel — they don’t make them with that anyway. They’re only 50 grants each! We could get a hundred right away!”
“Also gravity-wave?” Alisa asked.
“Yes. But their range is only 15 kilometers.”
“You know, Dasha, that’s a brilliant idea,” Maksim said, perking up. “I fully support it, especially with our drone swarm and combat in dense urban areas. But nothing more. Alisa is right; we need to keep a reserve for emergencies.”
“So, shall I place the order?” the android smiled.
“Yes!” three voices answered in unison.
For a few moments, everyone watched in awe as the final adjustments were made in AR. Finally, the request was compiled and sent, and the confirmation arrived. The Drone’s arrival and the delivery of all ordered equipment was approved.
With a short beep, the order confirmation unfolded, emphasizing that payment would be made only after initiation and receipt of the initial grants. There was also a bolded warning:
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# In case of inability to pay for the delivered goods, a fine and downgrade in the Rating will be imposed!
# Attention:
# Credit is not provided by TACTA. Partially paid goods will be delivered partially, if allowed by their structural features.
# In a complex order of several items, priority payment can be chosen in case of insufficient funds.
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Seemingly, there was no reason to be nervous; everything was clear and predictable. Yet, everyone breathed a sigh of relief when they saw the confirmation mediaglyph for the order. It was done. This incredibly important step was taken.
A step towards freedom.
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Satisfied with the result, Alisa headed to the fridge to finally prepare a proper meal. These guys would die from gastritis before any shaiszu got them! However, she was interrupted halfway by the words of a disheveled girl.
“All this is good,” Dasha mused, staring at the ceiling. “It’s even great, I’d say. But what’s next? We call the Drone, magically escape the protes, sneak past those super-duper Towers. Then what? We need to actually drive somewhere in our cool stealth truck. But where?”
“Fair point.” Maksim scratched his head. “We’ve been so caught up in the routine that we missed the bigger picture — what comes next? Nika, didn’t Doc write something about Odessa? Maybe we should head there?”
“Honestly,” Redhead noted, “Zelman is a very smart dude. But he has his own goals and agendas. You know, Max, as you recently told Miro, I’m not sure our paths align. I guess we need to consider all options before deciding. I only know there are ‘free cities’ where we can get some kind of safety. And there are many of them.”
“Reasonable, damn it. If there are many, there must be differences between them. And for now, we have the luxury of choice. We should check the list of these cities in Europe and then decide where to go.”
“I can help with that.” Alisa even raised her hand like a schoolgirl. “Well… you know, I have sources. I’ll try to gather as much information as possible, including what isn’t publicly available on the extranet.”
“Really? How come?” Dasha pouted and gave her friend the ultimate ‘puppy eyes.’ “You can’t hoard such juicy info sources all for yourself. Share!”
Surprisingly, the android remained unmoved by Dasha’s weapon of mass destruction — her puppy eyes.
Secret sources remain undisclosed, period. That was the verdict.
Intrigued by Alisa’s persistence, Maksim made a mental note — once again — to delve into what his sister was up to.
However, he could fully understand and accept her position. Sometimes, a promise simply can’t be broken. That was probably her situation. So, he had to back off.
He even repeated to himself a few times: “Back off. Don’t push. Wait.”
“Knowing where we’re going is certainly right. I’d even say necessary,” Nikola chimed in, drawing attention to herself. “But there are other questions. We’ve been weighing and calculating what we’ll buy from TACTA and if the truck can carry it all. Great. But what about stuff we already have?”
“If you’re talking about weapons and supplies, I’ve accounted for their weight,” Maksim noted.
“No. I’m not talking about those, and yes, I was 200% sure you wouldn’t forget the weight of the guns. But as a cyborg, I’m particularly interested in the clinic’s maintenance stations. Both of them, once we’re done with Miro’s guys. And the surgical complex with Mei Li’s resources — it’s no joke. We recently had to treat you, Max. Who knows what else might happen? To any of us.”
“I agree!” Dasha’s emotions flared at the mention of the clinic’s first patient. “It really is important! Well… I also did some calculations, to be honest. Or rather, the Ravens did. Also, we included the bioreactor for pharma. There won’t be any issues. Volume and weight-wise, it all fits. Just barely, but fits! And it’s crucial! Yeah…”
“You have a point,” Maksim conceded. “But we need to be sure this ‘volume and weight fits’ actually does fit into the truck. Alisa, you must have the precise data, right?”
The android didn’t even respond verbally, simply displaying another list in AR:
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Main modules with Mei Li: 200 kg (excluding cooling, power, and auxiliary systems)
Patient console (the robot itself): 740 kg
Surgeon’s console: 220 kg (optional, needed only for human operations without AR/VR)
Diagnostic robot: 380 kg
All auxiliary medical robots: 1250 kg
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“Okay.” Maksim looked at the figures thoughtfully, then leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed. “We won’t take the surgeon’s console. It’s always Alisa who operates, and she manages fine. The auxiliary surgical robots — unfortunately, they won’t fit; we’ll take only the diagnostic one, can’t go without it. Anything else can be acquired later.”
“How so? Leaving so much useful stuff behind?” Nika grumbled. Her practical nature was literally rebelling at the thought of leaving all that valuable equipment.
“And what do you want? Look, we can’t haul everything. The vibration protection capsule and the controlled atmosphere system just won’t fit in. Even without them, this robot is a huge asset. Consider the weight of Mei Li’s modules. We’re already heavily overloaded. Don’t expect a comfortable ride, by the way — too much weight. Alisa will be in the cargo bay, the three of us in the cab. For the whole trip, however long it takes, no stops allowed. And yes, we’ll be traveling in diapers.”
At these words, Dasha squeaked and blushed furiously.
“Think of it as being astronauts,” Maksim smiled at her. “They also wear diapers under their suits in space, so it’s not shameful for us. Actually, that’s the only way, considering our stealth system and a long trip. In fact, I’ve got an idea! It could be possible to lighten the truck by removing 80% of the batteries and powering it through a special setup from the reactor. If that works, we can partially offset its overload!”
In the end, everyone agreed to take the surgical complex, Mei Li, the cyber maintenance stations, and the chemical reactor with some of the most critical consumables. The truck would move slowly due to the overload, but they couldn’t go fast anyway — it would increase the stealth module’s energy consumption. How to fit everything into the cargo hold was unclear, but Max assured the team he’d manage. If necessary, they would place some stuff on the roof and sides.
The only thing left was to coordinate with Miro, ensuring the clinic “closed” a couple of hours before the final operation, allowing time for loading — the robot would go into the truck at the last moment. This was understood, as the bandits also needed to prepare for the Drone summoning. So, these things were quickly confirmed in a call with Miro.