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May 26, 2065, 19:20
"We've finally arrived," John announced, a defiant grin on his face.
"You're in a good mood," I remarked suspiciously, eyeing him.
"A little bird told me that a couple of young 'racers' —" the nomad emphasized the word dramatically, "— made quite an impression on the track."
"And that was enough to get you this excited?" I raised an eyebrow, expecting more to the story.
"Well, the second girl woke up. It happened just a few minutes after you left."
"Good news... John," I called out to the man who was already preparing to leave, "I need to check on the car."
"Sure, bring it to the garage. We'll patch it up tomorrow. Take it easy, kids," O'Brien said, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that made me want to throw something heavy at him.
"Let's go get some rest. I've had enough excitement for one day," I said, pulling along the blonde girl who barely had time to squeak. My plan for the evening included some health-improving 'exercise,' smoothly—or abruptly, depending on how things went—transitioning into sleep.
***
"Morning paints with a gentle light." I mutter to myself, reciting a well-worn but beloved phrase.
"Why are you up so early?" Kiwi stirred on my chest, clutching me tighter.
"I got enough sleep." I turned on my side, looking into her sleepy eyes. "If you want, we can stay in bed a bit longer."
"Mm-hmm," she mumbled, closing her eyes again.
In the end, I managed to get out of bed only after another half hour, waiting until Kiwi fell back asleep. The story of how I tried to escape the tight embrace of the sleeping beauty deserves a mention, but I'll save that for another time.
Quickly throwing on my clothes, I headed out for my usual morning run, a routine that had become second nature over the years in this world. A cold shower after the run was also part of my regular morning ritual, followed by breakfast. To my surprise, the camp was unusually quiet today, even though it was Wednesday. Usually, such "calm" was reserved for weekends, except for holidays like Independence Day. Despite most of the states being fragmented now, old holidays still held special significance for the nomadic tribes of America.
"Vincent, where is everyone?" I asked the guy sleepily trudging towards the shower.
"There was a drunkfest last night, so everyone is sleeping it off," Vi said, covering his mouth to stifle a yawn.
"What was the occasion?"
"Brooke's birthday."
"Oh right, I should remember to congratulate her... again."
"Don't bother, she told everyone to screw off as usual, and the rest just needed an excuse to get hammered," he said, waving a hand while trying to open the shower door.
"Sounds familiar," I said with a touch of nostalgia, recalling how my friends in my past life used similar excuses to brighten their daily grind.
Not wanting to disturb Vincent any longer, I headed to our kitchen to prepare something edible from the remaining supplies. The nomads always cleaned out the food, and there was a good chance I'd need to head to Rocky Ridge for another supply run. Luckily, our stocks were still full, so I made myself some pancakes with a clear conscience.
As usual, the smell of fresh baking revived everyone capable of walking, and I ended up cooking for a crowd of fifteen people. Fortunately, Susan and Brooke didn't stand by idly and decided to help me. With three pairs of hands, feeding an army of hungry troglodytes wasn't too difficult. Thankfully, I had learned from past mistakes and prepared plenty of batter, just in case of situations like this.
Having finished my meal, I was about to head towards our medical unit when Kiwi, fresh from the shower, intercepted me. She didn't take no for an answer and dragged me back. Kiwi hated eating alone, and since I had the proud title of her boyfriend, I had to keep her company.
"Were you planning to visit the girls?" Kiwi asked, tilting her head while sipping juice through a straw.
"Yeah," I nodded, leaning back on the wooden bench with my hands behind my head.
"Let's go together," she declared in a tone that left no room for objections.
"As you wish," I shrugged, lazily watching the clouds drift by.
Once Kiwi had her fill, we headed to Roosevelt's tent. The old medic, as usual, was inside, helping the girls recover from their week-long coma. The girls didn't notice us right away; they were diligently walking on a special path designed to help people regain muscle tone after such events.
"How's it going?" I asked Mike, glancing at the blonde girl determinedly moving forward.
"Abnormally fast recovery after such stress. If I didn't have experience working with you, I'd think it was some kind of miracle," he chuckled, briefly looking up from his computer monitor.
"Don't be modest. You're quite the wizard yourself."
"As you say," Roosevelt smiled, accepting my compliment. "Here to chat with me or see the girls?"
"Of course, the girls," I said, rolling my eyes theatrically, noticing a couple of curious little faces watching us.
Turning towards them, I approached the more spirited girl and raised my hand in greeting. "Hi, my name's Alex. What's yours?" I asked, smiling warmly at the platinum-haired girl and tilting my head slightly.
"Lucy," she muttered quietly, defiantly looking me in the eye.
"And I'm Roxy," said the other girl, standing slightly behind her.
"So, Lucy and Roxy, nice to meet you."
"I'm Kiwi," Kiwi peeked over my shoulder and waved cheerfully.
After our brief introduction, the conversation fizzled out. My mind was blank, and Kiwi stood silently behind me, observing the children's efforts. Roosevelt was engrossed in his work but kept an eye on the situation.
"How are you feeling?" Not knowing what else to ask, I stepped closer to the girls.
"Better than yesterday," Lucy huffed.
"Alright then, I won't distract you from your exercises..."
***
Dataset - hidden domain within the information stream
Request to establish a secure channel received…
Processing request…
Access granted, connection established…
Creating a stable communication image...
"The Script hasn't made contact for a week," Macro muttered, mimicking the expression of the girl whose appearance she had borrowed.
"Adding additional data to the resulting equation," the Domain transmitted a recording from their last conversation. "The probability of the Script's plan ending negatively is 98%." A hint of something resembling frustration flickered in the AI's robotic voice, surprising its companions. Domain didn't usually mimic human emotions as their likely deceased companion did.
"Bartmoss," Driver growled, fully understanding who was responsible for their comrade's demise.
"Analyzing the success of Project 'Orion' based on new variables..." For long seconds, Domain performed calculations comprehensible only to it, until suddenly its image shimmered. "Analysis complete. Probability of positive outcomes is 64%. To increase success, it has been decided to assume the Script's responsibilities." Domain's appearance shifted to that of a human, resembling the Script.
"Your current behavioral matrix is not suitable for blending into human society," Macro stated, conducting a brief analysis of her comrade's character.
"I anticipated this possibility and used the latest scan of the Script," the AI's manner of speech abruptly changed, surprising its partners. "Humans are primitive, and it will be easy for me to mimic them." The man waved his hand, attempting a somewhat crooked but nonetheless recognizable smile.
"You need to work on your expressions," Driver noted.
"I'll take that into account... Driver, did you manage to find anything at the ruins of Project 'Kushinada'?" Domain tilted his head slightly in question.
"Only a damaged recording from one of the Gemini optics. The attackers, whose identities remain unknown, were armed with technologies that surpass our current capabilities by several decades," the AI said, pursing its lips into a thin line as it reviewed the painstakingly restored footage again.
"An unknown party might be involved. We need to determine how they are connected to Rache Bartmoss and the extent of their current collaboration," Domain remarked, certain that these 'unknowns' were allied with the old hacker.
"We didn't find any traces of the children during the excavation. They were most likely abducted. The bugs implanted in the subjects' implants were disabled in advance, making it impossible to track their possible routes."
"This human netrunner is starting to annoy me. Organic life forms are interfering with our plans too effectively. I propose we enlist the help of Alt Cunningham," Macro suggested, causing the other AIs to seriously consider the possibility.
"Her logic differs from standard biological life forms. The success rate of your proposal is 68%," Domain responded. "I propose we establish contact," the AI agreed.
"I agree with Domain," the artificial intelligence's image nodded involuntarily, which didn't escape the notice of the others. Driver had begun to mimic humans too closely. This might be more than just an attempt at imitation, but for now, the AIs were not overly concerned with their comrade's atypical behavior.
"All in agreement..." Domain glanced around, meticulously mimicking the behavior of the human whose image it now wore. "In that case, we need to contact Alt Cunningham as soon as possible..."