Бесплатный фрагмент - Neon Hearts

Annotation

«Neon Hearts» is a thrilling cyberpunk novel set in a futuristic European metropolis in 2068—2089, where neon lights outshine the stars and cybernetic implants have become commonplace.

Anna Buyanova is a talented neuro-programming engineer from the lower levels of the city, striving to make her way into the upper echelons of the corporate elite. Along with her friends, Nova de Carte and Dash, she struggles to find her place in a ruthless world of high technology and deep social inequality.

Two decades later, Anna heads Europe’s largest synthetic organ factory. Despite her dizzying success, her personal life remains empty. An unexpected encounter with the charismatic master teamster Alex turns Anna’s world upside down, forcing her to reassess her priorities in a reality where human emotions are increasingly replaced by digital simulations.

Against a backdrop of majestic skyscrapers, pervasive clouds, autonomous transport systems and ubiquitous artificial intelligence, a story unfolds that proves that even in an ultra-technological future, genuine feelings, friendship and humanity remain priceless.

«Neon Hearts» is not just science fiction, but an in-depth exploration of human nature in an age where the line between man and machine is becoming increasingly blurred. This novel will make you worry, ponder and wonder: what does it mean to be human in a world where technology can fulfil every whim, but cannot give true happiness?

Immerse yourself in the world of «Neon Hearts», where real human hearts beat under a layer of glass and neon, and love can overcome even the most advanced algorithms of fate.

Chapter 1

In the heart of Europe, where once stood an ancient city, now stood a colossus of technological progress — the Gigapolis of 2068, the embodiment of the most daring fantasies of cyberpunk. This giant, stretching to the horizon, lived, breathed and pulsed like a single organism made of glass, metal and neon.

The morning was gloomy and heavy. The sky, covered with a dense blanket of leaden clouds, hung over the city like a giant lid, ready to pour cold drops of rain at any moment. The air was so saturated with moisture that it seemed as if you could touch it with your hands. This humidity created a strange contrast to the warmth of a summer day, which, despite the overcast, broke through the cloud cover, enveloping the city in a sweltering haze.

The infrastructure of the metropolis was amazing in its incredible complexity and scale. Multilevel road junctions, like giant tentacles of some fantastic creature, braided the city, connecting not only different districts and neighbourhoods, but also the levels of this vertical world. The buildings pointing to the sky seemed to have no end — their tops were lost in the low clouds, creating the illusion of infinity. The facades of the skyscrapers were covered with glittering screens that continuously broadcast adverts, news and messages, turning each building into a living, ever-changing organism.

The majestic river, once the natural boundary of the old city, was now subdued and turned into an integral part of the urban landscape. Dozens of bridges have been built across its wide waters, from graceful pedestrian structures that resemble works of art to massive multi-lane highways that can withstand an endless flow of thousands of vehicles. Cyberboats and small vessels passed beneath these bridges with a subtle hum, their sophisticated sensor systems constantly communicating with the city’s navigation network to avoid the slightest possibility of collision.

Despite the triumph of technology, nature found ways to exist in this man-made world. Flocks of birds, adapted to the new conditions, circled between skyscrapers, nesting in the most unexpected places — in gaps between building panels, on screen protrusions, in abandoned drones. Their singing, which had changed strangely over the decades, now blended harmoniously into the symphony of the city’s noise, creating a marvellous acoustic landscape.

The city stretched in all directions to the horizon, where the silhouettes of buildings merged with the sky line into an indistinguishable haze. Every block, every neighbourhood lived its own special, unique life. In the glittering chrome and glass business centre, people in strict suits with implanted neural interfaces were scurrying about, hurrying to work for huge technological corporations. In the industrial zones, shrouded in multi-coloured smoke, factories producing cybernetic technologies ranging from microscopic nanorobots to giant exoskeletons were in operation. In the dormitory districts, apartment complexes were slowly waking up — huge towers that could house entire cities of the past were preparing to release their inhabitants into a new day full of possibilities.

The transport system of the metropolis worked like an incredibly complex, but perfectly fine-tuned mechanism. Autonomous taxis, like drops of mercury, glided silently through the streets, picking up and dropping off passengers. Their surface constantly changed colour and texture, adapting to the environment and the mood of the passenger. Public transport was a true marvel of engineering — massive electric buses on a cushion of air and high-speed trains on magnetic levitation, capable of speeds of up to 400 kilometres per hour, transported millions of people, connecting the most remote corners of this huge metropolis.

Pedestrians hurried about their business, many of them clad in exoskeletons of various configurations or with visible cybernetic implants to facilitate movement and daily life. Some favoured more radical modifications — artificial limbs replacing natural ones, controlled by human consciousness.

Cafes and restaurants located not only on the ground floors of buildings, but also on special platforms between skyscrapers, as well as in the virtual space accessible through neurointerfaces, were already opening their doors. They offered visitors not just food and drinks, but entire gastronomic journeys combining real taste sensations with virtual visual and tactile effects.

As dusk fell, the city transformed, as if dropping one mask and putting on another. The darkness descending on the streets did not mean the end of the day — on the contrary, it was the beginning of a new, even more colourful and intense life for the metropolis. Billions of lights lit up simultaneously, turning the city into a glittering sea of light in which one could drown. Neon signs, three-dimensional billboards and LED panels on the facades of buildings created a phantasmagoric play of colour and light that made you dizzy.

The night city never went to sleep, it only changed the rhythm of its existence. While some of the inhabitants returned home after a long day’s work in the factories and offices, others only took to the streets to plunge into the bustling flow of nightlife. Clubs, bars and entertainment centres opened their doors, beckoning visitors with the promise of unforgettable experiences and virtual adventures that could last for seconds in the real world, but stretch for days and weeks in the altered perception.

The noise background of the city varied depending on the time of day, but never completely subsided, creating a unique sound palette of the metropolis of the future. During the day, this symphony was dominated by the sounds of transport — the quiet humming of electric cars, the whistling of maglev trains, the buzzing of flying delivery drones. To this were added the shouts of street vendors offering their goods — from synthetic food to illegal implants, scraps of conversations of passers-by in dozens of languages and dialects, including artificial languages created by AI, and the hum of working mechanisms — from microscopic nanobots to giant construction exoskeletons.

In the evening, the soundscape of the city was transformed. The daytime noise was joined by the honking of cars hurrying to leave the business centre, music from the opening nightlife venues — from classical melodies to cutting-edge compositions created by artificial intelligence, and the loud conversations of people enjoying the end of the working day and the beginning of the night’s entertainment.

Advertising screens and billboards seemed to have a life of their own in this city of the future. They shimmered, shimmered with all the colours of the rainbow, and broadcast mesmerising three-dimensional images and enticing slogans that, thanks to advanced technology, could adapt to each individual passer-by, addressing them by name and offering goods and services to suit their preferences. The light from these screens reflected in the many puddles on the pavements, creating bizarre patterns of light, as if the city were covered with a multicoloured luminous web.

This is how this city of the future lived — tirelessly, noisily, brightly, constantly changing and remaining unchanged in its essence. Each of its inhabitants, from an ordinary worker to the head of a large corporation, was part of a huge, incredibly complex mechanism that worked day and night. This mechanism was not just functioning — it was evolving, developing, realising the wildest dreams of the science fiction writers of the past about the technological future of mankind and at the same time creating new challenges that the next generations would have to face.

In the thickening twilight of the cyberpunk megacity of 2068, where neon signs waged an endless war with the fading light of day, a girl in a light, once elegant lavender-coloured dress walked slowly down the street. Anna Buyanova, exhausted from a long day of work in the neuroimplant laboratory, walked with her head down, as if trying to shield herself from the world around her with an invisible shield of fatigue. Her slender figure seemed fragile and vulnerable against the background of massive skyscrapers, whose tops, topped with spires of chrome steel and glass, were lost in the low, heavy clouds, illuminated from below by the millions of lights of the ever-wakeful city.

Around Anna, the life of the megalopolis was boiling and pulsating, like a gigantic, never-stopping mechanism. Music was pouring from everywhere, creating a bizarre cacophony of sounds, in which the attentive listener could distinguish dozens of different melodies merging into a single symphony of the future. From the open doors of restaurants came melodic jazz compositions, interspersed with aggressive beats from passing cyber-bikes, whose neon stripes left glowing trails in the air. Audio systems embedded in the walls of buildings broadcast the latest hits, and billboards sang the jingles of the latest products, from synthetic food to the latest neuro-implants.

But Anna, immersed in her own thoughts, did not share in this general merriment. Her mind, tired of endless calculations and experiments, was far from the festive atmosphere of the street. She did not scrutinise the faces of passers-by — people, not distinguishing where the human ends and the artificial begins. The brightly coloured shop windows, seemingly offering goods from all parts of the solar system, floated past her without leaving a trace in her consciousness. Anna’s only wish was to get home, to her little refuge in the vast, indifferent city, where she could finally take off the mask of confidence and let herself be vulnerable.

The music changed with every step the girl took, creating a unique soundtrack to her journey. As she approached the next establishment, she heard melodic electro-pop coming from the Cyber-Dreams bar, hard industrial from the Steel Heart club, and exotic rhythms from distant continents-colonies sounding from the doors of some cuisine restaurant. But even this symphony of the future could not drown out the eternal hum of human voices — laughter, conversations, rare outbursts of quarrels. People remained human, despite all the technological marvels around them, their emotions and passions were as vivid and unpredictable as they had been thousands of years ago.

Finally, after a long journey through the maze of streets, Anna reached the NeuroHub, a huge complex of dormitories where the developers and workers of the cyber-implant manufacturing companies lived. The building towered above the surrounding buildings like a giant beehive, glowing with thousands of windows. Its facade, covered with self-cleaning solar panels, reflected the lights of the city, creating the illusion that the building itself was glowing from within with some mysterious, pulsating light.

Anna walked through the main entrance, where invisible scanners instantly read her biometric data. A slight tingle in her temple and the security system recognised her as its own, granting her access to the inside of the building. The lift, controlled by an artificial intelligence with a soothing female voice, smoothly lifted her to the desired floor. Stepping out of the cabin, the girl found herself in a long, seemingly endless corridor, the walls of which were covered with interactive panels displaying news, weather and private messages for the occupants.

Life in NeuroHub was bustling even at this late hour, resembling an anthill that never fully sleeps. The corridors were crowded with people: young engineers were animatedly discussing the latest developments, waving their hands with projections of schematics and graphs; others, immersed in virtual reality through neural interfaces, were frozen against the walls with an absent expression, their eyes moving rapidly under closed eyelids, giving off intense brain activity. In the corner, several people, clearly under the influence of synthetic alcohol, were arguing loudly about the advantages of different brands of implants, their eyes glowing with an unnatural neon glow — a sign of activated endorphin stimulators.

Anna stopped at the open door of one of the communal kitchens, attracted by the smell of real, non-synthesised food, a rarity in their world. Inside, an elderly woman, whose wrinkled face seemed an anachronism among the ever-younger inhabitants of NeuroHub, was working over a small stove, humming an old-fashioned song. Her voice, slightly trembling but surprisingly clear, seemed an echo of a bygone era. The girl leaned against the jamb, watching this almost domestic scene, so rare in their high-tech world.

The interior of the kitchen was a bizarre mix of old and new, as if reflecting all the contradictions of their age. The walls were covered with panelling, now mimicking the cosy floral wallpaper — apparently the choice of the elderly occupant. Above the stove hung a recipe, automatically adjusted according to the cook’s actions, flashing green when everything went right, and blinking red when it deviated from the ideal process. The only window faced the street, letting in the flickering light of advertising banners, street lamps and passing air cars, creating a bizarre play of shadows and light spots on the floor and walls.

Suddenly the other girl, who was standing at the window sill and calculating something on a tablet, broke away from her work and raised her head. Her face, framed by a cascade of blue hair — the latest fashion of the season — lit up with sincere joy at the sight of Anna. Her eyes, equipped with the latest model of optical implants capable of seeing in the infrared and ultraviolet spectra, reflected a warm glow of friendship.

— Anna! I’m so glad to see you! — She exclaimed, rushing to her friend with open arms. Her voice, melodious and clear, seemed to drown out all the noise around her. — How are you doing? I haven’t been able to contact you all day!

Anna smiled tiredly, her shoulders slumping even more under the weight of the friendly hug. At that moment she looked especially fragile and vulnerable, like a statue made of the finest glass, ready to shatter at the slightest careless touch.

— Not so much, Nova,» she answered quietly, her voice barely audible over the noise of dinner cooking on the cooker and the hum of the corridor. — I failed today. A little short on the new neural network test.

Nova’s face changed instantly, reflecting genuine disappointment. Her eyebrows drew together at the bridge of her nose, and concern flashed in her eyes. She put her hand on Anna’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly for support. The touch was warm and soothing, reminding her that even in this cold world of high technology there was still room for simple human gestures.

— Oh, An, I’m so sorry,» she said sympathetically, her voice softer, as if trying to wrap her friend in a cocoon of comfort. — What do they say upstairs at the department? Can’t they discount your previous successes?

Anna just waved her hand tiredly, a gesture that said more than words could express:

— They don’t say anything. You know how it is — dry figures and no human approach.

The girls left the kitchen and headed down the corridor, their footsteps echoing off the walls, mingling with the general hum of the NeuroHub. The old woman at the cooker turned around and shouted after them, her voice, amplified by the acoustic system of the corridor, easily caught up with the girls:

— Hey, Nova, where’d you go? What about dinner?

Nova only brushed it off nonchalantly, not interrupting her conversation with Anna:

— You know, don’t get upset. I’ll support you, we’ll work on the material together, study. You’re a smart girl, you just need a little more time. — Her voice sounded cheerful and optimistic, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds. — Maybe we’ll have a new cognitive implant by the next test. You’ll pass next year, I’m sure you will!

Her words were full of sincere faith in her friend, but Anna only nodded absently, absorbed in her own thoughts. Her eyes were staring somewhere far away, as if she saw not the walls of the NeuroHub, but her uncertain future.

Finally, they reached Anna’s room. The door, reacting to the biometric data of the hostess, silently slid aside, revealing a view of a small but cosy space. Inside, on one of the beds, lay Anna’s roommate Dash, enthusiastically adjusting the latest lip augmentation and eye discolouration implant. Her face, reflected in the video mirror, was constantly changing, trying on different shades and shapes.

— Oh, you’re finally here! — Dash exclaimed, breaking away from her work for a second. Her voice sounded a little distorted because of her half-enlarged lips. — You’ve been gone all day. Nova and I were getting worried.

The interior of the room was typical NeuroHub, but it had the personality of its inhabitants. Three narrow beds built into the walls could fold up to make room for work or rest. Now one of them was unfolded — the one Dash was lying on — and the others were neatly tucked into the wall, revealing Anna’s desk, which was littered with schematics and physical prototypes of devices.

Screens replaced the usual windows, now projecting a view of the city at night — millions of lights, flying cars and distant silhouettes of skyscrapers gave the illusion that the room was at dizzying heights. In the corner stood an old-fashioned wooden cabinet, a true rarity in a world of plastic and metal.

Nova walked over and sat next to it, tucking her feet up on a worn chair upholstered in synthetic leather. Unlike many of her peers, she favoured naturalness, avoiding obvious cybernetic modifications except for optics.

— Don’t be upset, you’ll pass, I believe in you,» Nova said, leaning over to Anna. Her voice, soft and warm, contrasted with the cold glow of the gadgets around them.

Anna looked up, her eyes a mixture of gratitude and hidden stubbornness:

— I’m not upset,» she said, trying to keep her voice firm, but the slight tremor in her tone betrayed her true feelings.

Nova sighed, her fingers nervously tugging at a strand of hair, the only sign of worry on her otherwise calm face:

— Just a few per cent… — she whispered, staring into the void in front of her. — Why couldn’t they forgive them? That’s how you’d get everything and turn it in.

Anna straightened up sharply, her eyes flashing with determination like two little supernovae in the cosmos of her face:

— And I’ll get in anyway,» she said with unexpected firmness.

Dash, absorbed in the process of adjusting her cybernetic eyes, which were now shimmering in every shade from emerald to sapphire, said absent-mindedly:

— Who’s arguing? The corporation hires until how old? Thirty-five? — she said, fixing her lips, which, thanks to nano-implants, were changing shape and colour to suit her mood. — You’ve got plenty of time to try.

Anna’s neighbour, who had been silently watching the conversation until then, snorted, leaning back in the antique armchair that contrasted strangely with the ultra-modern furnishings:

— But at least you graduated from the institute first,» she tossed in Dash’s direction, her voice full of caustic sarcasm.

Dash only laughed back, her laughter modulated by her voice implants, sounding like a melody from the future. She walked gracefully across the room, showing off her fancy jumpsuit of colour-changing and texture-changing smart fabric.

— «Here you are setting your lips and eyes, and now Faza is coming. And you’re going to scare him. And we have to go to the concert with him tonight,» Nova continued, her voice tinged with envy and admiration at the same time.

Dash rolled her eyes, which went completely black for a moment before returning to their usual shimmering state:

— What concert? — she sighed theatrically. — You’ve been here for two years and you’re still going to concerts? You are cultured!

In the dusky corridors of the NeuroHub, where the neon stripes on the walls pulsed in time with the beating of the building’s electronic heart, there was a sudden insistent knock on the door.

— We can, we can! Come in! — Dash said in a high-pitched voice, her voice, modulated by cheap voice implants, sounded like a melody from the distant future, each note filled with artificial harmony.

Nova, desperately trying to pull on a tight-fitting smart-fabric dress that shimmered in all the colours of the rainbow, reacting to the slightest changes in her mood and heartbeat, screamed with a note of panic in her voice:

— You can’t, you can’t! You can’t go in yet! — Her voice echoed off the walls, creating a bizarre echo in the room.

But it was too late. The door opened with a soft pneumatic hiss, like the sigh of a cyborg, and on the threshold appeared Faze, a tall, russet-haired young man with large facial features and an athletic build that seemed to defy the general fascination with cyber-implants. His cyber-leather jacket, with a brightly glowing pattern on the back of it depicting a writhing neon dragon, made him look like a modern knight from the neon kingdom.

Nova, like a frightened nymph from Greek myths, lost in the labyrinth of high technology, skulked behind the wardrobe, trying to hide her half-naked body from Faz’s gaze.

Faza, slightly confused by the unexpected scene, quickly entered the room. His eyes quickly scanned the surroundings.

— Hello,» he began, but stammered when he saw Dash, whose lips now took up almost half her face, shimmering in all the colours of the rainbow like a living neon billboard.

— Hello,» Dash mumbled, her huge lips barely moving, creating a surreal spectacle, like a Salvador Dali painting brought to life in a high-tech world.

Faza, shuffling from foot to foot, his boots making a quiet squeak with every movement, analysing the composition of the air and the floor, asked with a note of surprise and slight concern in his voice:

— What is it with our Dasha? — His gaze darted between the giant lips and the rest of the girl’s face, trying to make sense of what he saw.

Dash, trying to give her voice a languorous note, which combined with her current appearance looked comical, like a parody of Hollywood divas of the last century, purred:

— You’re the one who got me… turned me on. — Each word was accompanied by a wave of iridescence running across her lips.

Faze, clearly feeling out of place, began to heel towards the exit. The sensors in his shoes beeped quietly, warning him as he approached the threshold.

— Sorry,» he mumbled as Dash continued to swivel her multi-coloured cyber-eyes in different directions, creating a hypnotic effect like a kaleidoscope.

By this time Nova had already managed to tidy herself up, her dress taking on a more conservative look as she adjusted to the situation. She adjusted the fabric on her firm young thighs, and her blond hair framed her face with delicate features. When she heard Faza about to leave, she shouted, her voice, amplified by the room’s speaker system, echoing around the room:

— Faza, Faza, wait! Don’t run away! I’m ready!

Nova turned to Dash with a smile as she put the finishing touches to the video-mirror, which obligingly highlighted the most favourable features of her face and suggested make-up options:

— Why are you scaring Fazi? He is a reserved man, not used to your weirdness. — In her voice you could hear notes of both irritation and amusement at the same time.

Dash, still looking at herself in the mirror, which obligingly offered various options for lip reduction, mumbled:

— Yeah, he didn’t add a cerebral implant to himself. Why did you have to move to the city centre? You could have found someone as dumb as him in the slums. — Her words, despite the distortion of her giant lips, were drenched in sarcasm.

Nova giggled, the sound of her laughter picked up by the room’s speaker system and scattered with silver bells:

— Oh, things are so mixed up in these corporate cities now, it’s a hell of a mess to know who came from where.

With a wink to Dash, which made her eye flash for a moment with the bluish light of the inbuilt lens, Nova sauntered out into the corridor. Anna had been silently watching the whole time, smiling at her friends’ jokes and tomfoolery.

Nova quickly caught up with Fazu at the end of the corridor, taking him under her arm and grabbing him by the sleeve of his leather jacket, which reacted to his touch by slightly changing the pattern of the backlighting. She laughed out loud, her laughter seeming to make the neon lights of the corridor flicker in time with it:

— Why are you so scared? Dash bought new implants on credit, she’s trying it out to find herself a handsome, strong, wealthy husband. And when you came in, she started fooling around to scare you. And she did! You’re kind of scary. You’re afraid of women, aren’t you? — Her words were half a joke, half a reproach.

They walked down the corridor towards the exit, their footsteps echoing off the walls, creating a bizarre melody. Faza, spreading his arms, which made the dragon on his back seem to spread its wings, excused himself:

— What an idea you’ve come up with! These implants come out new every week. I don’t know what’s on the market. You might walk into a room and there is no longer a human being, but some cyborg octopus. — He grinned nervously, clearly imagining the picture.

Suddenly, the imperious voice of the neural network controlling the entire building sounded in the corridor. The very air seemed to vibrate with the sound:

— Attention! At 00:00, the building will be closed as part of an anti-terror programme in accordance with Corporate Law #17—2913.14, «On NeuroHub Security and Cybercrime Countermeasures». All residents are advised to complete their business and leave public areas before the specified time.

Faze replied loudly without thinking, his voice echoing through the corridors:

— We’re going to a concert!

Neural Net, clearly teasing, her voice taking on a sarcastic tone, parried:

— Well, well, well, to a concert. You’re making citizens out of yourselves again. Maybe you should also go to the theatre? Or a museum? — In the artificial intelligence was clearly heard a fair share of irony.

Laughter could be heard from all the rooms of the NeuroHub. Panels on the walls displayed laughing emoji for a moment before returning to displaying data streams.

Nova, twirling her finger at her temple, a gesture that seemed to activate some sort of implant as her hair changed colour for a moment, whispered:

— Fool, why did you say that? Now the entire NeuroHub is going to laugh at us. — Her whisper, amplified by the acoustics of the corridor, could probably be heard several floors up and down.

And Faza, perplexed, his face expressing genuine incomprehension of the situation, replied:

— But we’re really going to a concert… Is that something bad? — He looked around, as if seeking support from the invisible spectators.

All around them was the life of NeuroHub, this hive of high technology and human passions. Groups of people stood in a spacious hallway with walls displaying pulsing streams of data that seemed to be the living embodiment of the digital world. Their conversations blended into a bizarre cacophony, augmented by the sound effects of numerous gadgets and implants.

Some were passionately discussing the latest corporate news, their hands drawing graphs and charts in the air, visible only through AR-lenses. A couple in the corner was flirting, exchanging virtual gifts via neural interfaces — the air around them sparkled with digital hearts and flowers invisible to the eye.

People walked past in outfits with inbuilt displays showing their mood and social media status. The dresses changed colour and pattern, adjusting to the wearer’s mood and the surrounding environment, creating the impression of a living, breathing work of art.

In the corner of the hall, a group of teenagers were playing an AR game. Their movements, chaotic to the uninitiated observer, were actually part of a complex virtual dance in which they were battling digital monsters visible only through their AR glasses.

Office workers crowded around the lifts, their eyes glowing with neon light — a clear sign of active work with virtual screens. They continued meetings and negotiations even when they left their desks, their consciousness divided between the physical world and the streams of corporate data.

This world lived to the rhythm of cyberpunk — technology permeating every aspect of life, neon lights reflecting in chrome implants, and a constant stream of information flowing through invisible channels. The air seemed electrified by the amount of data and emotion being transmitted.

Chapter 2

At the same time, in one of the modest rooms of the same skyscraper, Dash was reclining. This young girl, the same age as Nova and Anna, barely past her twentieth birthday, was the living embodiment of beauty.

Her slender, supple body, almost completely naked, was studded with tiny bioluminescent tattoos that shimmered in the semi-darkness of the room in all the colours of the rainbow. These tattoos created using nanotechnology. The girl’s black-blonde hair, able to change colour at will thanks to nanorobots implanted in the roots of her hair, now cascaded luxuriously over her shoulders, creating a bizarre contrast with her skin.

Dash played carelessly with her neural implants, light, almost imperceptible movements of her fingers activating and deactivating various functions. Suddenly, the silence of the room was broken by a melodious ringing sound that seemed to be right inside Dash’s head. The girl’s heart raced — she instantly recognised the special signal assigned to one of her many suitors. For a split second her pupils dilated as the recognition system identified the caller.

Taking in a full chest of air and mentally activating the implant responsible for modulating her voice, Dash tried to make her tone as seductive as possible. Her voice, low and velvety, as if enveloping the space, filled the room:

— Yes? I’m listening,» she said, stretching her words and adding a slight huskiness to her tone.

— Who? Vadik? — she thought for a moment, her eyes moving quickly as if reading an invisible text as she went through a long list of admirers in her enhanced memory. — Ah, Vadik! Of course I remember you, darling. How could I forget your enchanting voice?

Dash stretched gracefully, arching her back and showing off her perfect body as if to an invisible interlocutor. She cast a quick, sly glance at Anna, who was watching the conversation from her corner of the room with undisguised interest and a slight chuckle.

— What NeuroHub? — Dash giggled nervously, her fingers beginning to rapidly run through a strand of hair, changing its colour from black and blue to a deep, mysterious purple. — Ah, that… That’s our flighty neural network messing around again. Imagine, we’ve got relatives travelling all the way from the Far East, from the Eastern New Dynasty. And now this cyber-joker is calling our humble mansion a mirohab. You should see how many people live here now!

Dash tried to speak both cheerfully and seductively, her voice rising to a playful note or dropping to an intimate whisper. She hoped that Vadim on the other end of the quantum communication line would believe her improvised explanation.

— Yes, yes,“ she continued, rolling her eyes and casting an expressive glance at Anna, „everyone seems to have gone mad, coming and going, as if our flat were rubber. Listen, darling,“ her voice became apologetic, „I can’t meet you today — my grandmother has a grand holiday, an anniversary, you know. Maybe tomorrow? — she paused, as if remembering something. — Oh, it completely slipped my mind, I’ll be at the institute all day, I’m taking a term paper. You know what? I’ll call you as soon as I’m free, okay? I promise we’ll meet up. Bye, kisses.

Having finished the call, Dash turned sharply to Anna, who was no longer hiding her amusement, covering her mouth with her hand so as not to laugh out loud.

— No, can you imagine? — Dash hissed, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of irritation and amusement. — That damn neural network, be damned, answering the phone and claiming it’s some kind of NeuroHub! Couldn’t they have programmed something a little more… sophisticated? «Residence», «penthouse», at least «palace»! But no, she has to make us look like some sort of… communal dwellers!

Suddenly the disembodied, neural network voice, as if it had appeared out of thin air, sounded first in the corridor, and then, as if following its echo, moved directly into the room:

— I apologise for the intrusion, but how exactly would you prefer me to answer incoming calls? I’m open to suggestions and ready to be reprogrammed according to your wishes.

Dash, still seething with indignation, mumbled, ducking her face into the pillow:

— I don’t know, think of something decent! «Neuro Palace», «Cyber Residence», «Quantum Mansion» — anything but this derogatory «NeuroHub»!

NeuralNet, after a pause, as if considering what she had heard, replied nonchalantly:

— I have recorded your wish and made the appropriate adjustments to the database. However, I must warn you that I cannot guarantee one hundred per cent compliance with this directive, given the security and privacy priorities set by the corporate owner of the building.

Anna, who had been watching the scene unfold all this time, could no longer contain her laughter. Her eyes sparkled with unconcealed pleasure.

— Oh, Dash,“ she said through her laughter, wiping away her tears, „you are simply inimitable. How do you manage to juggle all these suitors and not get tangled up in your own stories? It’s a real art!

Dash, who at first pouted her lips in feigned offence, couldn’t keep a serious expression for long. A mischievous light flashed in her eyes, which were equipped with microscopic lenses that allowed her to change the colour of the iris at will.

— It’s not just art, my dear,» she said with feigned importance, rising from the bed and stretching gracefully. — It’s the highest form of social programming. A little natural talent, a pinch of neuro-enhancement, and voila — you are the queen of the virtual and real worlds at the same time! And why am I sitting naked? We should get going.

In the sweltering heat of the summer evening, the streets of the neon Cyber-City were bustling with life, like a giant, tirelessly working anthill of the future. Anna and Dash, two graceful women, walked arm in arm, their high heels beating a clear, hypnotising rhythm on the pavement, reflecting the light of the many neon signs. Their figures, as if sculpted from flesh by a skilful sculptor, attracted the gazes of passers-by, making men look at them with long, full of unconcealed admiration.

The street was bustling with people who had just been released from a hard day’s work in the offices of mega-corporations and technology factories. Men flaunted cheap suits with inserts that changed pattern depending on the light and the mood of the wearer. The women shone in dresses woven from liquid metal, shimmering in all the colours of the rainbow to match their emotions. Firm hips, chiselled figures — in a world where implants could change almost anything, beauty was almost accessible.

The friends were moving leisurely through the lively, pulsing stream of walkers when an unusual sight caught their attention. A small crowd, mottled with brightly coloured outfits and shiny implants, gathered around a man reciting poetry. But this was no ordinary poet — his words, inspired by the immortal Shakespeare, were skilfully intertwined with the realities of their time, creating a bizarre symbiosis of the classics and futurism. Next to him, as if in a mesmerising dance, small, almost invisible quadrocopters circled, creating intricate fiery patterns in the air, emphasising each stanza and giving the poet’s words an almost tangible form.

— I don’t understand what he’s saying,» Dash muttered, slowing down for a second and furrowing her perfectly shaped brow. — What’s bothering him so much? Does our world still have problems for poetry?

Anna only shrugged, her eyes reflecting for a moment the glint of a courier drone flying by:

— Maybe it was the lack of problems that was the main problem? — She remarked philosophically, and the girls moved on, joining the motley, noisy crowd. But the problems remained. Conflicts, hungry all over the world. A lack of love.

The streets pulsed with life like the arteries of a gigantic metropolis. Autonomous taxis, resembling predatory fish from the depths of the ocean, glided silently through the sea of people, manoeuvring between pedestrians with filigree precision. Quadrocopters of all shapes and sizes flew overhead, delivering parcels of food and goods directly to customers’ doors, their propellers creating a light, almost inaudible background hum. Billboards flashed everywhere, inviting people to try the latest synthetic delicacies that promised incredible taste sensations, or to take exotic journeys to orbital stations or underwater cities.

— I can’t take it anymore,» Dash almost moaned, her voice sounding tired and irritated, contrasting with the brightness and energy of the world around her. — To spend five years at university, cramming in outdated theories, and then slave away at a corporate factory for a measly two thousand credits? No, no, no, no, no, no. I wasn’t born into this age of opportunity.

Anna nodded sympathetically, her eyes clouded for a moment, as if she were remembering something from her past:

— Nova’s life isn’t easy, she’s always lost in her lab, nor I with my endless meetings and reports. And now you…

— And what is life then? — Anna sighed, her gaze involuntarily stopped on another couple in love, selflessly kissing at the shop window, selling cheap models of neurointerfaces. — Is this really all we are capable of in a world of endless possibilities?

Youth was boiling around them — young men and women were hugging, laughing, living their lives as if they didn’t notice anyone around them. Their eyes, often augmented with cybernetic implants, shone with happiness and carefree spirit.

Passing by the huge, full-wall advertising screens, the girls involuntarily admired dancing robots and people with implants, whose movements were so perfect and synchronised that they seemed unreal. They advertised the latest cybernetic improvements promising to increase brain performance tenfold, or exotic tours to the restored Amazon jungle or to the soaring mountains of the Eastern New Dynasty, where ancient Chinese traditions were intricately intertwined with the latest technology.

— Science is boring,» Dash continued to complain, her voice sounding whimsical, like a spoilt child. — Who needs this chemistry? Only formulas, molecules, reactions… As if we were still living in the last century and hadn’t invented nanorobots capable of synthesising any substance.

The girls walked gracefully swaying their hips, their dresses, as if they were living creatures, tightened around their young, taut bodies, becoming almost transparent, or becoming deep, rich colour, attracting admiring glances of passers-by. Anna stopped suddenly, raising her hand in a protesting gesture, her eyes lighting up with an almost fanatical gleam:

— No, you don’t understand anything! Chemistry and science are not just formulas, they are the future of mankind! It is because of science that we live in this marvellous world. And who knows what other wonders it will give us?

Dash wrinkled her perfect nose as if she had heard something unpleasant:

— I don’t want to think about the future. I need the here and now. What’s the point of this endless research if we already live in a world our ancestors could only dream of?

At that moment, a motorbike, more like a futuristic beast than a vehicle, rumbled past them with a mighty roar. Its streamlined shape shimmered in the neon lights, and its wheels seemed to barely touch the ground. Sitting behind the driver, a guy with slicked-back black hair and cyber-brows that shimmered with blue light shouted, overlapping the noise of the engine:

— Hey, hotties! How about a ride? I promise it won’t be boring!

Dash, unexpectedly to her friends, shouted menacingly, her voice suddenly hard and commanding:

— «Go-get out of here before I call the police drones!

Nova raised her eyebrows in surprise, her eyes widening in surprise:

— Why are you like this? They seem like normal guys. Maybe this is your chance to break out of the routine you were just complaining about?

— Regular guys,» Dash snorted, her lips curling contemptuously. — You think I want to ride a motorbike? It’s not a big deal. We need serious men, not boys with fancy toys.

Anna couldn’t stand it and laughed, her laughter sounding louder than she expected, making several passers-by turn round:

— What do you want? Marry the king of cyber city? You don’t like that man, the one on the motorbike doesn’t fit, the one with the red socks… You’re the queen! Maybe you should order a personal android to fulfil all your requirements?

The girls laughed together, their resounding laughter dissolving into the multivoiced hum of the evening city, full of neon lights.

On a warm summer evening, the city was transformed, enveloped in a shimmering neon glow. The majestic building of the Cosmos cinema glittered with thousands of multi-coloured lights like a giant kaleidoscope. A multifaceted crowd, resembling a living sea of people, swarmed around it.

To the front entrance, decorated with exquisite ribbons, snaked a bright red path, like a river of molten ruby. On it, as if on a magic bridge between reality and the world of dreams, the stars of inter-corporate cinema were moving smoothly. The air was ringing with enthusiastic shouts and deafening applause, creating a unique symphony of celebration.

Anna and her inseparable friend Dash stood in the very epicentre of this human maelstrom, breathless with excitement and anticipation. Their eyes, wide open with amazement, shone brighter than any neon signs, reflecting the glitter and splendour of the posters. All around them, a vast sea of hands — animate, cybernetic — swarmed around them, applauding the passing celebrities with such fervour as if the fate of the universe depended on that applause.

— Anna! Anna!» Dash suddenly exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. She tugged her friend sharply by the sleeve of her dress, shimmering in time with her heartbeat. — Look! It’s him! Konyukhov himself!

Anna, holding her breath, followed her friend’s gaze. On a wide marble staircase, surrounded by an impressive retinue of assistants and bodyguards in strict suits, Konyukhov — the idol of millions, the unrivalled star of holo-vision, whose face adorned half the skyscrapers of Cyber-City — was majestically ascending.

— Ah!» Dash exhaled, clasping her hands to her chest as if she were trying to keep her heart from jumping out. — I adore him so much! He’s unbelievable!

Men in elegant business suits woven from smart nanofibres floated past them as if they had stepped off the covers of fashion magazines. These marvels of techno-fashion changed their colour and texture depending on the mood of the wearer, creating a unique visual effect. Women shone in evening dresses made of liquid metal, which flowed around their figures like a living, sensual second skin, reflecting the light of neon lights and creating the illusion that the stars themselves had descended to earth. On the shoulders of many of them were luxurious fur capes — true masterpieces of bioengineering, capable of changing colour at the slightest wish of the mistress, creating unique patterns and shades.

Dash, unable to contain her emotions, hugged Anna tightly by the shoulders and, trying to outshout the multivoiced rumble of the crowd, whispered in her ear, her voice trembling with excitement:

— This is the life, Anh! Look at this! This is the way to live! What splendour, what glamour!

Anna clapped her hands enthusiastically in response, her eyes shining like two bright stars:

— Look! Look! — she exclaimed, pointing with a graceful gesture. — Yumatov himself is coming!

Yumatov, who was passing by, surrounded by a flock of enthusiastic admirers in sparkling outfits, suddenly stopped, his gaze instantly picked out a familiar face from the crowd. He saw a young man standing next to Anna and Dash, who clearly felt out of place among this splendour.

— Why are you standing there, mate? — asked Yumatov easily overlapped the noise of the crowd. — Couldn’t you get through?

The young man, visibly embarrassed under the stares of others, nervously ran his hand through his hair and answered, trying to speak confidently:

— A friend of mine was supposed to bring the pass, but she’s been delayed. I don’t know why. Maybe there’s a problem with the security system?

Yumatov shook his head, his face expressing a mixture of surprise and slight displeasure:

«- So you should have called me, you weirdo! — he exclaimed, clapping the young man on the shoulder. — I would have sorted it out in no time, let everyone in. Well, don’t worry, I’ll make arrangements with the guards.

With these words Yumatov, flashing a white-toothed smile in the direction of admiring fans, moved further down the red carpet, leaving behind him a trail of enthusiastic sighs and whispers.

Dash, excited by her proximity to the stars and eager to make new acquaintances, immediately turned to the remaining young man. Her eyes burned with curiosity and her voice trembled with barely restrained excitement:

«- And you’re an artiste too, aren’t you? — She asked, playing with her eyebrows coquettishly and tilting her head slightly to get a better look at the stranger.

— Yes, a beginner,» he replied with a slight smile, a mixture of pride and embarrassment.

Dash, unable to contain her enthusiasm, jumped up to him, almost knocking down the people standing nearby. Her movements were sharp and choppy, like a child seeing her favourite toy:

— Congratulations! Congratulations! — she ranted, the words flying out of her mouth at the speed of a machine-gun burst. — That’s just terrific! What’s your last name? What projects have you worked on so far? Oh, and of course, how can you be found on social media? Do you have a page on NeuroSphere?

The young man, obviously unaccustomed to such a barrage of attention, rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. His face reflected a whole range of emotions — from surprise to slight confusion:

— I’m-I’m just starting out in this world,» he said, trying to find the right words. — My last name probably doesn’t tell you anything. I haven’t been involved in any big projects yet.

But Dash wasn’t going to back down. She playfully swayed her hips, covered with a shimmering dress, trying to arouse the young man’s sympathy and get him to talk more frankly:

— Come on, don’t be modest! — she said with a charming smile. — Tell me, please! What is your name? I promise that I will remember and will definitely follow your career!

The young man, realising that from the persistent girl so easily not get rid of, took a deep breath and reluctantly replied:

— Smoktunovsky,» he said, and there was a note of pride in his voice. — But this name is still not known to many people. I am only at the beginning of my journey.

Anna and Dash, hearing the surname, froze for a moment, and then discreetly glanced behind the young man’s back. Their faces expressed a mixture of bewilderment and slight disappointment — the surname really didn’t mean anything to them.

Suddenly, the air of the summer evening was torn by the powerful roar of an engine, which made everyone around them shudder and turn round. A luxurious flyer of the latest model — a real work of engineering art, combining the elegance of classic design and futuristic features — rolled smoothly up to the red carpet, leaving a trail of holographic flames behind it. The crowd, like a single organism, exploded with deafening shouts:

— Kharitonov! Kharitonov!

The doors of the flyer opened smoothly, releasing a cloud of scented vapour, and out of them, like an ancient god descending to earth, stepped a young man. His slender figure was clad in a leather jacket with a standing collar, which seemed to have a life of its own, shimmering and changing shades in time with the movements of its owner. Kharitonov’s face seemed to glow from within — the result of the latest advances in bionics and nanotechnology. Every feature of his face was perfect, as if moulded by a talented sculptor.

Several female admirers immediately rushed to him like moths to a flame. Their eyes shone with adoration and their hands trembled with excitement as they held them out for autographs.

Kharitonov smiled, and that smile seemed to light up the entire red carpet. On the skin of his palm, as if by magic, a glowing signature appeared — the last word in biotattoo technology. He leisurely touched the hands of his admirers, leaving his autograph on them — a temporary, but incredibly beautiful biotattoo, glowing with a soft neon light.

Anna and Dash watched this spectacle with bated breath. Their eyes, wide with amazement and delight, shone brighter than any neon lights, reflecting the glitter of the signs and glowing outfits. They stood still, afraid to miss even a moment of this magical action.

When the long-awaited premiere began, the girls, along with hundreds of other spectators, took their seats in the huge hall of the cinema. Despite the fact that their seats were on the back rows, they were not upset in the least. Caught up in excitement and anticipation, Anna and Dash stretched their necks, trying to see every detail on the giant screen that took up the entire wall of the auditorium.

The film began, and the audience, as if on cue, held their breath. Incredible special effects, created with the help of the latest technology, literally erased the line between reality and fiction. It seemed that the action was unfolding right in the hall, around the audience. Anna and Dash, as well as everyone else, were completely immersed in a wonderful world of adventure, love and intrigue, created by talented directors and actors.

After the screening, tired but overflowing with impressions and emotions, Anna and Dash returned home. Their cheeks were burning with excitement, and their eyes were still shining with the glow of the magic they had seen on the screen. The clock on the wall of their cosy flat showed exactly 23:59 when they crossed the threshold.

At the same second, the melodious, almost maternal voice of NeuraHub’s neural network sounded, filling the room with a soft, soothing sound:

— «Good evening, Anna and Dash,» the artificial intelligence said, care and attention audible in its tone. — I hope the premiere met all your expectations and gave you an unforgettable experience. Let me remind you that you have a working day tomorrow. I would strongly advise you to go to bed to be in top form.

Chapter 3

Anna Buyanova, a young laboratory employee, stood in front of an impressive industrial 3D printer in a huge production hall flooded with blindingly bright light, where high ceilings that seemed to go into infinity were lost in an intricate maze of ventilation pipes, cables and neon signs.

The printer, a marvel of modern technology, was striking in its sleek, streamlined forms made of gleaming chrome-plated metal. Its design was a stark contrast to the crude functionality of the surrounding equipment, as if to remind us that even in a world of soulless machines, there is room for aesthetics. Every curve, every line of this mechanical behemoth had been thought out to the smallest detail, giving the impression that the machine in front of you was not just a machine, but a work of art.

The printer worked with hypnotising precision and grace, creating the housings for implanted mechanisms — an integral part of life in the world of the future. Every movement of its many manipulators, every twist and bend was honed to perfection, as if in an intricate dance of technology where each step had its own meaning and purpose. The whirring and humming of the machine filled the air, creating a symphony of progress, a melody that blended the sounds of working machinery, the hiss of molten metal, and the subtle crackle of electrical discharges.

Anna, a junior member of the laboratory, but already proving herself to be a promising specialist, stood, fully immersed in her work. Her gaze was fixed on the display of the latest generation tablet. The girl’s slender, graceful fingers, topped with a neat manicure with barely visible neon flecks, flew over the keyboard with incredible speed. She entered commands and adjusted parameters with ease and confidence.

Every now and then Anna looked up from her tablet to check the printer was working. At those moments, her eyes, framed by long lashes, reflected the bright glare from the sparks of the molten metal, making it look as if tiny stars were dancing in them.

Around Anna was the life of a huge techno-factory, the heart of the industrial district of the megalopolis of the future. Dozens, if not hundreds, of similar machines, presses and systems filled the space, creating a real maze of high-tech equipment. Each machine, each unit was like a separate organism, living its own life, but at the same time being a part of a single, complex mechanism.

Workers in uniforms, adorned with badges that shimmered and changed colour depending on the level of access and current tasks, scurried between the machines. Their movements were honed by years of practice, each gesture having its own purpose. They monitored readings, adjusted settings, sometimes exchanging short phrases or gestures only they could understand. The air was filled not only with the sounds of working machines, but also with muffled voices, curt commands and rare exclamations of satisfaction when another difficult task was successfully completed.

Suddenly Anna felt someone’s gaze on her. The sensation was so strong that she involuntarily flinched and broke away from her work for a moment. When she turned around, she saw the shop foreman, a tall, well-built middle-aged man with grey hair and eyes that showed years of experience with the most complex technologies. He had been watching her from a distance for some time, as if assessing her work, and now he seemed to have decided to approach her.

The Master Commander approached Anna with the leisurely, confident gait of a man accustomed to the fact that his every movement had weight and meaning. His face expressed a mixture of surprise and respect, an emotion he didn’t seem to be used to hiding.

— Did you really work it all out yourself? — His low, husky voice was full of surprise. He put his hand around the space around him, as if pointing out the complexity of the technological splendour around them.

Anna, without stopping her work, nonchalantly shrugged her shoulder. This gesture, full of self-confidence and even a certain challenge, contrasted with her youth and seeming fragility. She took her eyes off the display for a moment to look at the master commander:

— What, am I supposed to wait for your hackers until morning now? — She said, her voice tinged with irony and a touch of irritation. — My shift might be over before they even bother to show up.

The Master Commander shook his head slowly, his gaze full of thought and perhaps even a little sadness:

— Yes, systems engineers are in short supply right now. Not enough specialists,» he sighed, as if the problem were a personal concern that had been bothering him for a long time.

He continued to watch as Anna deftly manipulated the complex system code on the tablet. Her fingers moved with incredible speed, adjusting the various gauges and adjusting the temperature settings of the 3D printer. Her every action was precise and confident, as if she’d been working with this sophisticated machine her whole life.

— Well done,» he said with obvious approval and genuine admiration in his voice. — A real good girl.

Anna smiled faintly as she continued her work. This praise, though she tried not to show it, was important to her. In a world where technology was advancing at an incredible speed, recognition from an experienced expert meant a lot.

At the same time, in another part of the huge metropolis, in one of the many blocks of the next NeuroHub — a complex of buildings united into a single system — Faza was concentrating on the wiring. This tall, sturdily built man with a strong chin and short blond hair was completely immersed in his work, as if forgetting about everything in the world.

His strong hands, covered with calluses from constant work with tools, deftly connected wires, creating a complex network that was to become the nervous system of the smart house of the future. Every move Faza made was honed by years of practice — he connected contacts, laid cables and adjusted sensors with the confidence of a man for whom this work had become second nature.

Here, in this block, the artificial intelligence of NeuroHub was planned to be placed — the real heart and brain of the whole complex. This AI was to control everything from the simplest outlets to the most complex defence systems capable of protecting the residents in the event of an attack by criminal gangs. Although such incidents were rare, especially in this elite neighbourhood, the security system had to be flawless.

Faza took a moment to pull himself away from his work, straightened up and stretched, stretching his stiff back. His eyes glanced around the still-empty room, which would soon become a cosy flat. Suddenly he remembered that he wanted to discuss something important with Nova and called out loudly:

— Nova! Nova!

His deep, sonorous voice echoed through the empty corridors, echoing off the bare walls and making it seem as if the building itself was responding to his call. When he received no response, he raised his voice, which now had a slight note of concern in it:

— Nova! Where are you?

Finally, there was a hurried clatter of soles echoing through the empty plastic rooms, and a panting Nova appeared in the doorway. Her long blond hair, usually arranged in an elaborate style, was now in a casual bun, and her face had a look of slight concern and curiosity on it at the same time.

— What’s wrong, Faze? — she asked, trying to catch her breath. Her voice, melodic and gentle, contrasted strangely with the stark surroundings of the building under construction.

Faza smiled, seeing her worried face. His stern features softened and a warm glint appeared in his eyes:

— It’s nothing,» he reassured Nova. — It’s just that Mum is inviting us to the country for the weekend. What do you say?

Nova froze, her large, expressive eyes widening with surprise and, it seemed, slight consternation. She took a few tentative steps into the room, rubbing the hem of her work uniform in her hands, a gesture that betrayed her nervousness.

— Maybe we shouldn’t? — she said quietly, lowering her gaze. — I’m-I’m shy.

Faza raised his eyebrows in surprise, his face expressing genuine incomprehension:

— What’s there to be shy about? — He glanced at their work clothes with their service stripes. — It’s not like we’re going to a ball.

From the far room where the other staff members were working, one of Nova’s friends called out in a long, teasing voice:

— Pansy!

Nova stepped closer to Faz, as if determined. She was still nervously fiddling with some electronic circuit board she had picked up from the drawer beside him. Her gaze was fixed on the flickering circuitry of the board, as if in it she was searching for answers to her doubts.

— It’s just… scary,» she said quietly, her voice barely audible.

Faze scratched his chin thoughtfully, his face expressing the concentration of a man solving a complex problem. Suddenly his eyes lit up and his face lit up with a smile — he seemed to have found a solution:

— You know what? — he began enthusiastically. — Take the girls with you. You’ll have more fun together, and you won’t have to bear all the attention of my relatives. — He grinned, imagining that picture. — Besides, it’s good for them to get some air out of the city, too. You’re just breathing neon here.

Nova looked up at him with a spark of hope and gratitude in her eyes. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all. Her face relaxed a little, and a slight smile appeared on her lips, the first sign that fear was beginning to recede at the prospect of new experiences and the support of loved ones.

Dash stood in the huge, humming synthetic food production hall, where the air was saturated with a bizarre mixture of artificial spices and the faint smell of ozone from the machines at work. Her slender figure, clad in a tight-fitting electric-coloured jumpsuit with patches, seemed fragile amidst the bulky, futuristic equipment. Dash’s ringing laughter, like a silver bell, overlapped the monotonous noise of conveyors and the hum of bioreactors synthesising proteins and carbohydrates.

Dash, young and energetic with a mischievous gleam in her eyes the colour of molten amber, was chatting enthusiastically with her friend, oblivious to the bustle around her. Her hands, adorned with thin bracelets with shimmering neon lights, gesticulated vividly, emphasising every word.

Suddenly, the relative silence of the workshop, filled with the usual sounds of working mechanisms, was broken by a loud scream, even overlapping the roar of huge mixers, mixing ingredients for the next batch of synthetic food:

— Dash! Where’s Dash? I need Dash now!

The voice belonged to the shop foreman, a young man in his thirties whose face, framed by a short stylish beard, expressed a mixture of irritation and worry. His eyes scanned the room rapidly. He was picking his way through a maze of blocks with preparations for various dishes.

Dash’s friend, noticing the approaching master, playfully nudged her with her elbow. Her eyes, lined with neon make-up, glittered conspiratorially:

— Look, someone’s looking for you. Why don’t you hide? Let’s give him a little hunt, shall we?

Д Ash squinted slyly, her plump lipstick-covered lips curving into a mischievous smile. She ran a hand through her hair, the colour changing from root to tip from deep blue to bright purple:

— Come on! Let’s see how persistent he is.

She playfully ducked behind the nearest protein synthesis control unit, covering her mouth with her hand to hold back a chuckle. Her eyes, widened with excitement, followed the approaching Master Commander through a translucent screen with running lines of data.

The Master Commander, finally reaching the spot where Dash had just stood, stopped, breathing heavily. His gaze darted around the workshop, scanning every corner for a familiar silhouette. Drops of sweat glistened on his forehead under the bright light of the neon lamps.

— Where is she? — he blurted out, trying to shout over the noise of the equipment. His voice, amplified by the microphone built into his collar, echoed around the shop. — When are you going to pay the credits to the Fund? They won’t touch my head for overdue payments!

Dash, unable to bear the tension of the moment and driven by her mischievous character, jumped out of her hiding place. Her movements were swift and graceful, like those of a predatory cat. She seized her friend by the arm, which was studded with thin rings, and dragged her away. They manoeuvred between huge blocks of supplements and moulds that rose to the ceiling like futuristic skyscrapers.

The Master Commander followed them without giving up. His heavy boots with magnetic soles clattered on the metal floor, creating a strange rhythm in the symphony of running machines.

— How many times can we chase you? — he shouted, trying to keep up with the girls. His face was flushed from the effort, and a vein throbbed on his forehead. — I’ve got deadlines to meet!

Dash tossed over her shoulder without turning round, her voice full of flirtatiousness and subtle mockery:

— And I don’t need to be chased, I need to be wooed! Maybe then the credits will come quicker.

Her laughter, ringing and infectious, spread throughout the workshop, making even the most frowning workers smile.

Dash’s friend laughed, and turned to the master commander and jokingly wagged her finger, on which the ring glittered:

— «Stop following us! Don’t you have other things to do? Or has our boss decided to do fitness right at the workplace?

Girls passing by, noticing this scene, began to banter about the situation. Their comments, witty and witty, added a touch of fun to the atmosphere of the workshop, contrasting with the monotony of the work process.

One of them, a tall blonde with bright green eyes, winked at the master commander and said playfully, adjusting her overalls:

— Why are you picking on her? You’d better come to me! I might be able to find the credits faster.

The Master Commander only waved her away, his face a look of growing concern. The wrinkle between his eyebrows grew deeper, and his eyes darkened with anxiety. Through the noise of the harvesters pressing the food into compact blocks, he tried to shout to Dash, his voice breaking with tension:

— When will you bring the loans? The fund has been giving me a hard time! The corporations will eat me up with this synthetic bread! You know how ruthless they are!

Dash stopped abruptly and turned to him. Her eyes narrowed into two amber slits, and she thrust her hips forward in a provocative pose. The tight jumpsuit emphasised every curve of her body, and the neon stripes on her clothes shimmered in time with her breathing.

The Master Commander froze, their gazes met, and for a moment the whole noisy workshop seemed to disappear. The air between them seemed to electrify, creating an almost palpable tension.

Unable to endure this tense pause, Master Commander clapped his hands together, and his gloves emitted a quiet electronic beeping sound. Almost desperately, he exclaimed, his voice shaking with a mixture of irritation and pleading:

— What on earth do you want from me? Do I have to kneel before you for these credits? Or, maybe, to dance in the middle of the shop?

Dash, without saying a word, showed him her tongue. Then she winked playfully, and her eyes flashed yellow for a moment.

The Master Commander, realising he was not going to get an answer, waved his hand in frustration. His communicator bracelet beeped softly, reminding him of other pressing matters. He turned and walked away, muttering something to himself. His cursing gradually dissolved into the noise of the machines, blending into the general hum of the shop.

Hour after hour passed, filled with monotonous work, interrupted by rare moments of fun and flirtation. Huge screens on the walls of the shop counted down the time, showing not only the hours, but also the level of productivity, the amount of food produced and even the mood of the workers, determined by their biometric indicators.

When the end-of-work signal finally sounded — a melodious electronic trill that replaced the harsh beeps of the past — the women hurriedly went about their business and began to quickly change their clothes. They stripped off their overalls as they walked, revealing bodies adorned with neon tattoos and shimmering implants.

They hurried to the showers with ultrasonic cleaning systems, hurried to their children waiting in nurseries with artificial intelligence, to elderly relatives whose homes were equipped with constant medical monitoring systems. Some were rushing to their unusual hobbies — immersive virtual reality theatres or car racing.

In the locker room there was an atmosphere of anticipation for the evening’s entertainment. The air was filled with the smell of perfume and ozone from the hair and make-up machines. One of the girls leaned out of a stall and shouted, her voice echoing off the metal walls:

— Dash! Dash, are you coming? Don’t keep me waiting!

Dash, standing in front of the video mirror, fixed her eyes one last time, adjusting their colour to match her chosen outfit. The tiny nanobots in her iris were changing the pigmentation, creating a perfect match with the dress. She replaced her work robe with a tight-fitting dress made of a material that changed colour depending on the light and the mood of the wearer.

— Now, wait!» she said, putting the finishing touches on her make-up with the automated applicator. — Beauty takes time, even in our fast-paced age!

The girls in the changing room, each standing in front of their own video mirror, made up, knowing that the admiring glances of young men were waiting for them outside the doors.

— Dash, are you coming with us or not? — One of her friends called impatiently, tapping her foot nervously with her high-soled shoes. — The club won’t wait, and I want to catch the band’s performance!

Finally, Dash stepped out of the stall, looking at her friends in all her glory. She flexed her hips sexily, and her dress reacted instantly, changing colour to emphasise the curves of her body. With a smile that seemed to make even the walls of the locker room glow, she said:

— I’m ready. It’s time to show this metropolis what the girls from the synthetic food shop can do!

Dash looked stunning. Her black-blonde hair, changing colour from root to tip, was styled in a hairstyle. Dainty earrings glistened in her ears. The tight dress, woven from thousands of microfibres, emphasised every curve of her young body.

In a futuristic metropolis, where neon lights rivalled the brightness of the stars and skyscrapers, like titanic monoliths of glass and metal, rushed upwards as if trying to reach the clouds, public transport was a true marvel of engineering and design. Huge, streamlined carriages, reminiscent of silvery whales from ancient legends, glided silently along the magnetic rails that, like a glittering web, threaded through the city, connecting its many neighbourhoods and levels into a single, pulsating organism.

Dash deftly ducked into one of these carriages. Her movements were full of grace and confidence, as if she were the queen of this world. The doors closed behind her with a subtle hiss, instantly cutting off the noise of the street and immersing the passengers in the special atmosphere of the transport cocoon.

Inside the carriage there was an atmosphere of tranquility. The walls of the carriage shimmered with soft, muted light, creating the illusion of endless space. The air inside was fresh and clean, filled with a light aroma of meadow grasses — the result of filtration and aromatisation systems.

— Dash! Dash! Where are you in such a hurry? — A familiar voice suddenly reached her from the crowd of passengers, like a tinkling note in the symphony of city noise.

Dash turned round, her emerald eyes, which seemed even brighter in the soft light of the carriage, met the gaze of one of her friends for a moment. The girl’s glossy lips curved into a slight, almost imperceptible smile, but there was a certain detachment in it, as if Dash were already thinking somewhere far away from here.

— I’m sorry, I’m terribly busy,» she said as she walked, her voice melodic but cool. She continued to gracefully manoeuvre between the passengers, her slim figure in the tight-fitting electric-coloured dress seeming to dance among the people as she made her way to the far end of the carriage.

A group of girls standing nearby gave Dash perplexed looks. Their faces were reflected in the mirrored surfaces of the carriage, creating a bizarre play of light and shadows. One of them, a tall blonde in a bright blue patterned jumpsuit, shook her head, making her long pendant earrings jingle softly:

— You’re wasting your time, girls. Dash never comes with us. She’s too arrogant for that,» she said, her voice a mixture of envy and admiration.

The girl’s words were drowned in the general hum of conversations that filled the carriage like a living, pulsating organism. People of all ages and professions were hurrying about their business: some to work, dressed in strict suits with corporate badges, some to meet friends, dressed in bright, extravagant outfits.

Realising that it would be a long journey, Dash gracefully lowered herself into one of the empty seats. The seat instantly adjusted to her figure, providing perfect support for her back. Her slender fingers, adorned with intricate rings of shimmering crystals, lightly touched her temple, activating the new implant embedded under her skin. A moment later, a melodious voice sounded in her ears and began to tell a fascinating story, taking her thoughts far beyond this carriage, this city, this time.

Opposite Dash sat a young man, her age. His deep brown eyes studied the girl with undisguised interest, as if trying to solve the riddle of her cold beauty. He was dressed in a simple suit and was not used to the ostentatious luxury of this metropolis. Dash met his gaze several times, but each time, as if embarrassed by this silent dialogue, she lowered her eyes, looking at her graceful hands with perfect manicure — a real work of art with miniature patterns.

The boy kept his eyes on her, and a slight smile gradually blossomed on his lips, full of charm and intrigue. After gathering courage, he stood up and moved smoothly to the seat next to Dash. The air between them became electrified, filled with unspoken words and invisible tension.

I’m sorry to disturb you,“ he said in a soft, velvety voice, trying to block out the surrounding noise, his words like a warm breeze on a cool evening, „I can’t help but wonder what you’re listening to. It looks like it’s something incredibly fascinating. Your face. it seems to reflect a whole universe of emotions.

Dash, keeping her gaze on her hands, replied with a slight chill in her voice, as if defending herself against this unexpected invasion of her privacy:

— Audiobook.

— Oh, how interesting! — The boy became animated, his eyes lit up with genuine curiosity. — What is the book, if it’s no secret? Judging by your keen look, it must be amazing. Maybe it’s a new bestseller or, on the contrary, a forgotten classic?

Dash finally looked up, meeting the stranger’s gaze. Something like interest flashed in her emerald eyes, like a ray of sunshine breaking through thick clouds.

— «The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov,» she answered, and there was a note of pride in her voice, as if she were sharing a precious secret. — An amazing work from the early 20th century. It’s a book about love, about loyalty, about the struggle between good and evil. And you know what the best part is? There’s something mystical about it, something that resonates with our time despite the fact that it was written so long ago.

The boy was confused for a moment, his eyebrows raised slightly, creating a slight wrinkle of surprise on his forehead:

— I must admit, I haven’t heard of such a book. Is it something new? Maybe some modern adaptation of a classic?

Dash couldn’t hold back a surprised look, her eyes widened as if she had heard something incredible:

— I’m surprised you don’t know. This book is all the metropolis is talking about right now. It’s a real classic! — in her voice sounded genuine amazement. — Bulgakov created a whole world full of symbols and allegories. His anti-hero is not just a character, it is the embodiment of a force that tests people for strength. And the love of the Master and Margarita? This is a hymn to the real feeling, which can overcome any obstacles.

— Well, you know, — the guy shrugged his shoulders, his lips curved in an embarrassed smile, creating charming dimples on his cheeks, — it’s a big metropolis… Maybe I just haven’t had time to immerse myself in the literary life of the city. You know, moving, a new job — it all takes up so much time.

— Wait,“ Dash suddenly straightened up, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, as if a thousand tiny stars had lit up in them, „you’re not from here? Are you new to our town?

The boy nodded, his smile widening into an open and friendly one:

— From here now. I recently moved to this amazing city. You know, it amazes me every day. The skyscrapers, the technology, it’s like something out of a fantasy novel. And now there are some literary revelations, — he laughed softly, and his laughter seemed to fill the carriage with warmth and cosiness.

Dash suddenly smiled back. She shook her blue curls playfully, and the air was filled with the light scent of exotic flowers, her signature perfume.

— Well,“ she said with a sudden warmth in her voice, as if the ice in her heart had begun to melt, „perhaps you should take a closer look at our literature. I’m sure you’ll find much of interest. You know, sometimes the classics can tell us more about the future than the most daring fiction.

The transport continued its journey through the futuristic metropolis, gliding smoothly between skyscrapers like a silver fish in an ocean of glass and concrete.

Chapter 4

The sun, barely above the horizon, was breaking through the dense web of neon signs, billboards, and drone couriers hovering in the air. The rays of light, refracting in this haze, coloured the streets of the metropolis in bizarre, almost unreal shades — from deep purple to electric blue.

On the outskirts of the centre stood another NeuroHub, a colossal complex combining elements of a residential skyscraper. Its walls, mottled with thousands of windows, reflected the surrounding city, creating the illusion of an infinite urban landscape.

It was here, in one of the many corridors of the NeuroHub, that the four friends — Faza, Dash, Nova and Anna — leisurely descended the wide staircase covered with a soft, muffled covering.

Dash, walking in front, was the epitome of the beauty and grace of the future. A tall brunette with precise facial features, she moved with feline fluidity, turning every step into a small performance. Her tight synthetic leather jumpsuit, changing colour depending on the light, accentuated every curve of her slender body. Dash’s long eyelashes cast intricate shadows across her high cheekbones, giving her look depth and mystery.

Following Dash, holding hands and whispering animatedly, were Nova and Anna. Their ringing voices, imbued with notes of fun and slight excitement, echoed through the corridors.

Faza was at the end of this small procession, but his confident gait and attentive gaze showed that he was not a casual traveller.

Passing by the automated kitchen, where the girls were starting to prepare NeuroHub’s breakfast, the company heard a ringing female voice:

— Hey, girls! Where are you going this early?

A young woman in a snow-white jumpsuit looked out from behind the counter, looking curiously at the company passing by.

Dash, without turning round, only turned her head slightly, tossing it over her shoulder with a slight chuckle:

— We’re going to the cottage, honey. Sometimes you need to get out of this plastic bag and get some fresh air. Although I must admit, I’d love to take your pasta with me.

Faza winked slyly at the girl in the kitchen as he passed by:

— «Don’t worry, Marie, we’ll definitely be back. Your culinary masterpieces are something worth living in this NeuroHub for.

Marie, a young girl with freckles on her nose, instantly blushed at the compliment and, smiling embarrassed, disappeared behind the kitchen door.

Suddenly there was a loud, almost deafening ringing in the corridor. The neural network controlling all the systems of NeuroHub ostentatiously sounded it, imitating the sound of an ancient telephone set of the beginning of the XXI century. After a long beep, which seemed to make the walls vibrate, the artificial intelligence spoke in a voice remarkably similar to the voice of a famous announcer of the last century:

— Greetings, you are calling at the real presidential palace. What can I do for such an early guest?

Nova and Anna, unable to stand it, burst into loud laughter. They began to clap each other on the shoulders and hug each other, almost falling down from laughter.

— Oh, Dash,“ Nova said through her laughter, „this is all because of your recent request, remember?

Anna, wiping tears from laughter, added:

— Yes, now we officially live in the palace. Maybe we should order crowns?

Dash, unlike her friends, clearly did not find the situation amusing. She pressed her plump, perfectly shaped lips together, knowing perfectly well that the neural network was mocking her, remembering the conversation when she had asked, foolishly, to call this NeuroHub a palace to impress the next suitor.

— NeuralNet,“ Dash said through gritted teeth, „you’re out of line. I won’t let it go.

The melodious voice of the AI echoed down the corridor in response to her threat:

— «I apologise, Mistress Dash. Just trying to lighten the mood at this early hour. Just a reminder, someone is trying to call you. Judging by the ID, it’s someone called Vox from the GV24/7 holovision channel.

Dash narrowed her eyes, a dangerous light flickering in them. She slammed her palm against the nearest wall, as if chastising the neural network, which, as everyone in NeuroHub knew, was present in every socket, in every system of the vast complex.

— Let the call go,» she gritted through her teeth, nodding her head sharply.

Immediately a cheerful male voice sounded in her personal audio system, implanted just behind her ear:

— Hello, Dash? It’s me, Vox. I hope I’m not too early?

Dash frowned for a moment, trying to remember which of her many admirers and acquaintances bore that name. Several faces flashed through her mind before she finally remembered the tall blond man from television she’d met last week at the launch of the new neural interface.

— Ah, Vox! — she exclaimed, instantly changing her tone to playful and flirtatious. — From television, huh? What a surprise!

— Did I just walk into the presidential palace?

She threw a mocking glance at her companions, who were watching the conversation with interest.

— No, no, it’s our neural network joking, — Dash continued, not letting Vox get a word in. — We just have relatives from Africa, so it’s crowded like in a real palace. You wouldn’t believe how many cousins and brothers and sisters I’ve got!

Faza, Anna and Nova stood by, watching this improvised performance of one actress with undisguised interest. Nova, unable to bear it, began to nibble on Faza’s shoulder, trying to hold back her laughter.

— No, I can’t meet you today,» Dash continued chirping, lowering her voice coquettishly and twirling a strand of hair around her finger. — My family and I are going to the dacha. Can you imagine, a whole day in the fresh air, away from these skyscrapers and eternal noise.

— Which road are you taking? — Vox’s voice came from the speaker, in which disappointment was clearly audible.

Dash was confused for a moment and looked questioningly at Faza. He grinned and said silently: «By magnetic.»

— You know, I don’t even know,» Dash said playfully, pretending to be a frivolous beauty. — The neural network is driving us, and I never look at the road. I just enjoy the view and the company. Ah, it’s modern technology, isn’t it? You never know where they’ll take you.

She paused, as if listening for something, and added with feigned regret:

— Oh, Vox, I’m sorry, dear, but I can’t talk any more. They’re waiting for me, you know — family, obligations. But don’t worry, I’ll contact you as soon as I get back. Maybe even bring you a souvenir from the slums.

With these words, Dash sent a kiss to the void and cut the connection with a sharp gesture.

Faza laughed, shaking his head and not hiding his admiration for Dash’s acting skills:

— What a chatterbox you are! The poor guy is probably already rushing along all the magnetic roads in search of his mother’s dacha.

Dash, proudly erect and demonstratively swaying her hips, walked past him, tossing over her shoulder with a slight chuckle:

— «Faza, dear, don’t teach me how to live better. I’ll be more experienced in these matters than you. You’d better do something useful, like finding me a husband. But be warned, I need someone of real status. Not some TV presenter, but at least the owner of a TV channel.

With those words, she headed for the exit of the NeuroHub, leaving her friends looking at each other with smiles on their faces. Nova and Anna, still laughing at the situation, hurried after her, and Faza, shaking his head, followed.

In the rays of the early morning sun shining through the dense foliage of century-old trees, the magnetic taxi glided smoothly along the winding road, taking the four friends away from the noisy metropolis. Anna Buyanova, Nova de Kart, Dash, and Faza were comfortably seated in the spacious salon, enjoying the unusual peace and quiet, so rare in their usual city life. The soft hum of the magnetic cushion on which the taxi was travelling provided a peaceful backdrop, allowing them to relax and sink into their thoughts.

Dash, dressed in a tight electric-coloured dress that accentuated all the curves of her slender body, sat next to Faz. Her long legs were elegantly crossed in dizzyingly high heels. She cast playful glances at Faze now and then, clearly enjoying the company of the attractive man. Her long eyelashes, accentuated by the latest generation of shimmering make-up, fluttered slightly when she turned her whole body towards him and said with a sly smile:

— «I see you’re an enviable groom, Faza. — Her voice, low and velvety, was full of feigned admiration. She ran her hand through her long hair, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. — I paid for the taxi, my parents have a summer house… If you’d known before, you’d have taken me to visit, not Nova and her company.

Faza did not take his eyes off the scenery passing outside the window. His profile, clearly outlined against the green trees, seemed carved from stone. He only grinned, and the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes deepened:

— Calm down, Dash. You’re not my type. — He turned to her, and in his grey eyes played cheerful sparks. — And the dacha… it’s just a name. Just an area with a few trees. All that was left after construction forty years ago. You shouldn’t expect anything grand.

Dash, clearly not expecting such a straightforward answer, pouted her plump, perfectly shaped lips and began to feign anger. Her thin eyebrows drew together at the bridge of her nose, forming a small crease. Suddenly she reached for the steering wheel, which was still in the cockpit for the possibility of personal control, even though the machine was being guided by a neural network. Her manicured fingers with long fuchsia-coloured nails gripped the leather braided steering wheel.

— Hey, neural net! — she shouted, trying to turn the steering wheel. Her voice soared an octave higher with feigned indignation. — Turn back! We don’t want to go there! I’ve changed my mind!

The control panel instantly lit up bright red, warning against such behaviour. A melodious female neural network voice said: «Please do not interfere with the operation of the vehicle. It could be dangerous.» Dash, noticing this, immediately pulled her hands away as if she had been burned, but continued to sulk with her arms crossed over her chest.

Anna, who was sitting opposite, trying to defuse the situation, spoke softly, leaning forward and putting her hand on Dash’s knee:

— «Faza, come on, why are you scaring her like that? — She looked at Dash with a smile, her brown eyes radiating warmth and understanding. — Our beautiful girl’s face stretched out. No, it’s the new implants, isn’t it, Dash? — In her voice you could hear a slight irony, but without malice.

Dash, instantly changing her mood like a chameleon changing its colouring, turned to her friend with a mischievous smile. Her eyes, emphasised by perfect arrows, sparkled:

— Don’t chicken out, Anna. We’ll get him now, you’ll see. — She winked at Nova, who sat quietly in the corner, almost blending in with the upholstery of the seat. — Let’s protect our modesty, shall we? Let’s show that stuck-up boy that we’re not just pretty dolls!

Nova, dressed in a simple pastel-coloured summer dress, only smiled embarrassedly, lowering her eyes. Her blonde hair, gathered in a simple ponytail, softly framed her delicate face.

Faza, watching this scene, only shook his head, his painted temple catching a ray of sunlight:

— What lookouts, girls? Just going for a visit. For clean air, a break from the hustle and bustle of the city. No need to look for a double bottom here.

So, joking and teasing each other, the company spent a few hours on the road. Gradually the landscape outside the window changed: skyscrapers and neon signs were replaced by dilapidated buildings and unfinished houses. The people here looked different — they were engaged in hard physical labour; their clothes were simple and shabby. The contrast between the splendour of the metropolis and these suburbs was stark, as if they had crossed an invisible boundary between two worlds.

The taxi skilfully manoeuvred between people and dilapidated buildings, its magnetic cushion allowing it to smoothly overcome any obstacles. Several times they drove past huge piles of construction debris — concrete, bricks and charred beams, silent witnesses of the former construction boom. The air was cleaner here, and the taxi passengers involuntarily began to breathe more deeply.

Finally, the car stopped outside a small house surrounded by tall spruce and fruit trees. When the door of the taxi opened with a quiet hiss, the friends saw a marvellous picture: a veritable green carpet of grass and ferns was spread around them, and the air was filled with the chirping of birds and the distant chirping of woodpeckers. This soundscape was so unusual for the inhabitants of the metropolis that for a moment everyone stood still, enjoying this symphony of nature.

They were met by two elderly people, a man and a woman, dressed in old-fashioned but neat suits. Their faces, mottled with wrinkles, bore the marks of a long and difficult life, but their eyes shone with kindness and wisdom.

Dash, spectacular and confident as always, jumped out of the car first. Her high heels sank deeply into the soft earth, but she straightened up gracefully without a trace. She stood in a modelling pose with her hips slightly swept back and her hand on her waist, showing off her beauty and sexuality, waiting for the reaction of those she met. Her bright smile glinted in the sunlight filtering through the trees, and her long hair fluttered in the breeze.

The elderly couple, however, remained unperturbed. They only glanced at each other, the man raised his bushy grey eyebrow slightly, but showed no other emotion. Their gazes seemed to penetrate through the outward glare, assessing something deeper.

Faza, unloading the voluminous luggage from the spacious boot of the taxi, said with a warm smile:

— Come on in, girls. Make yourselves at home. — He looked at his parents, and in his eyes, there was a mixture of love and slight embarrassment at the behaviour of his guests.

Dash, realising her mistake with her choice of shoes, awkwardly tried to walk on the soft ground in her high stilettos. Each step was difficult for her, and she struggled to keep her balance. In contrast, Anna and Nova, who had taken care to wear comfortable trainers, walked easily on the grass, enjoying the softness of the natural carpet beneath their feet. Faza, noticing Dash’s predicament, held back a smile — after all, she knew where they were going, but preferred beauty to practicality.

Approaching the hosts, Faza began to introduce the guests:

— Let’s get acquainted. — He gestured for the girls to come closer, his voice warm and confident. — These are my friends from the city.

Each of the girls in turn extended their hand in greeting. Anna did it with dignity, Dash with some coquetry, and Nova… Nova, the most modest of them all, said quietly, barely raising her eyes:

— Hello, I’m Nova. — Her voice was barely audible, like the rustling of leaves in the wind. As if seeking protection, she pressed herself against Faza’s shoulder, her nose against his leather jacket. Her cheeks were slightly pink with embarrassment.

The elderly hosts smiled kindly and openly as they shook hands with their guests. Their eyes showed the sincere hospitality so rare in the cold world of the metropolis. They seemed to radiate warmth and calmness, which gradually began to be transmitted to the guests.

The golden rays of the sun softly caressed the tops of the trees, colouring the sky with delicate hues. Nova, a graceful and refined girl, accustomed to the metropolis, listened with genuine interest to every word of Fazu, a young man whose life was so different from her own. Her slender figure, clad in a simple but elegant dress, seemed alien to the countryside. But there was something about her — perhaps the genuine interest in her eyes or the slight smile on her lips — that made her presence here seem remarkably harmonious, like a delicate exotic flower that had accidentally sprouted among the field grasses.

Faz, waving his hands now and then, pointing now and then to one patch of land or the other:

— «Here, Nova,» he gestured with a wide gesture around a small plot of land covered with lush green grass, «I plan to plant a vegetable garden. Just imagine: fresh vegetables, grown with my own hands! Tomatoes, juicy and fragrant, cucumbers, crunchy and cool, carrots, sweet, as if honeyed…

His eyes lit up with genuine enthusiasm, and a dreamy smile appeared on his tanned face, revealing a row of snow-white teeth. Nova, unaccustomed to such conversations about land and plants, but genuinely wanting to keep the conversation going, timidly asked, rubbing a strand of her long dark hair:

— A., what else do you want to plant, Faza? Tell me more about your plans.

Her voice, soft and melodious, seemed to dissolve into the evening air filled with the scents of herbs and flowers. Faza, encouraged by the girl’s interest, began to talk with even greater fervour, his eyes glistening and his hands flying into the air as if trying to draw a picture of the future garden:

— Oh, Nova, I have grand plans! In addition to vegetables, I want to plant here various spicy herbs — basil, thyme, rosemary. Can you imagine the aroma in the air? And over there,“ he pointed to a small vacant lot a little further away, where wildflowers were swaying in the breeze, „I want to plant an apple orchard. Ten, no, fifteen trees of different varieties! Antonovka, white plum, pear… Can you imagine how beautiful it will be in spring when the trees blossom? Everything will be drowned in white and pink colour, as if in a fairy tale!

Nova, trying to visualise this picture, smiled involuntarily. Her eyes, accustomed to the neon lights of the metropolis and billboards, had difficulty perceiving this simple beauty of nature. But something in Faza’s words, in his sincere admiration, made her heart flutter. She felt something new, unfamiliar stirring inside her — maybe a longing for something simple and real?

— It must be very beautiful indeed,» she said quietly, looking at Fazu with unexpected warmth. — I’ve never seen apple trees blossom, you know. In Cyber City we have parks, but they’re… different. Artificial or something.

Faze, touched by her words, gently took Nova’s hand. His palm was warm and rough from working in the vegetable garden and with the circuit boards at the production facility of the corporate NeuroHubs, and that contrast with Nova’s soft skin caused both of them to shiver slightly.

— «Then we should definitely come in the spring,» he said with a smile. — I will show you the real beauty of nature.

He led her further, to a small hill covered with soft grass. From the top of the hill there was a breathtaking view of the whole village — the scattering of wooden and brick houses in the green of the gardens, the winding ribbon of the river glistening in the setting sun, and the endless fields stretching to the horizon.

— And from here,“ Faza said, pointing to the distant horizon where the sky met the earth, „in clear weather you can see the lights of the metropolis. You know, Nova, sometimes I look out there and think: how good it is that we are here, that we have preserved this corner of nature. Time flows differently here, here you feel connected to the earth, to the past, to something eternal and unchanging.

Nova, following his gaze, suddenly felt a strange feeling — a mixture of longing for familiar life and unexpected peace from the nature around her. She turned to Fazu, about to say something, but at that moment they were interrupted by the loud but good-natured voice of Fazu’s father, which echoed throughout the neighbourhood:

— Hey, youngsters! Stop cooing there! Come to the table, mother has baked pies! With apples, with potatoes, with mushrooms — they’re delicious!

Faza and Nova looked at each other and laughed. This simple moment, this simple joy, suddenly seemed to Nova something extremely valuable, something she lacked in the bustle of the big city. Faza’s laughter, sincere and infectious, seemed to melt something inside her, to break down the invisible wall between their worlds.

— Shall we go? — Faza asked, holding out his hand to her. — Believe me, Mum’s pies are incredible. It’s definitely something we haven’t tasted in our fancy restaurants.

— Nova, still smiling, accepted his hand:

— My pleasure. You know, I suddenly realised that I was terribly hungry.

They walked leisurely back to the house, where a set table and warm company awaited them. The air was filled with the scents of freshly baked pies, herbal tea, and something elusive-perhaps it was the smell of life itself, simple and real.

Nova, walking beside Faz along the narrow path, suddenly caught herself wishing she knew more about this simple life, about the people who had chosen this path. She glanced furtively at Faza’s profile, illuminated by the soft light, and felt something new, unfamiliar, but surprisingly pleasant, stirring in her heart. Maybe this was the beginning of something more than just an interest in a different way of life?

And in the distance, beyond the forest and fields, the lights of the metropolis flickered faintly — a distant and alien world, which now seemed to Nova a strange dream from which she had just awakened. And for the first time in a long time she felt that she did not want to return to this world of neon lights and cold plastic. Here, next to Faz, amidst this simple beauty, she felt truly alive. And accepted.

The sun slowly coloured the sky above the suburb in delicate shades of pink and orange, creating an impressive contrast with the green of the forests stretching to the horizon. This corner of the world seemed like an island of peace and tranquillity, where the old way of life stubbornly resisted the onslaught of new technology. Wooden, concrete and brick buildings, erected by the hands of local residents, blended seamlessly into the surrounding landscape, as if challenging the distant skyscrapers of the metropolis, whose sharp spires were barely visible on the northern horizon.

Against this backdrop of natural idyll, two young women, Anna and Dash, lay on the soft grass, slightly damp from the evening dew. Their slender figures contrasted sharply with the simplicity of their surroundings, making them look like city dwellers. They looked up into the sky, where fluffy clouds floated slowly, taking on bizarre shapes in the rays of the setting sun.

The air was filled with the scents of blossoming apple trees, freshly cut grass and damp earth — smells almost forgotten in their home metropolis, where artificial fragrances had long since replaced natural scents. Somewhere in the distance they could hear the mooing of cows returning from pasture, and the merry laughter of children coming from the neighbouring yards.

Anna inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with clean air, and exhaled slowly with obvious pleasure. Her long hair spread across the grass, intertwined with wildflowers — daisies and cornflowers.

— How nice it is here… — she said dreamily, closing her eyes. — It’s so easy to breathe and lie so soft… It seems as if all the problems were left somewhere far away, in another world.

Dash twitched nervously, as if her friend’s words had struck some painful string in her. She turned her head sharply, her hair ruffled and irritation in her eyes.

— I told you, it’s no good,» she said, her voice harsh, breaking the peaceful atmosphere of the summer evening.

Anna slowly opened her eyes and turned her head to her friend, raising a thin eyebrow in surprise. Her green eyes read incomprehension and slight anxiety.

— What don’t you like already? — she asked, her voice more wary, as if she were preparing for another outburst of displeasure from Dash.

Dash raised herself up on her elbows, taking a critical look at her surroundings. Her face contorted in a grimace of disgust as she began to speak:

— «I look at them and I’m so sad… — she waved her hand in the direction of Faza, Nova and Faza’s parents sitting at the table. — They put a collar around their own necks, and they’re happy about it! Can you imagine?

She sat down sharply, cross-legged, and pointed at the nearby grazing horse, which was plucking the grass, occasionally waving its tail away from pesky flies.

— That horse is freer than them,» Dash snorted. — At least he doesn’t have to worry about credit and career advancement.

Anna listened silently, watching the wind rippling the tall grass, creating the illusion of green waves. Her fingers absent-mindedly rubbed the clover stalk as she considered her friend’s words.

— Everything is already known in advance,» Dash continued, her voice growing more irritated with each word. — No comfort! No room for imagination! First they save up for some new panel to diversify their miserable life.

She curled her lips contemptuously, as if the very mention of such a life disgusted her.

— Then to the kettle with the neural interface, so she wouldn’t have to strain herself making herbal concoctions. — Dash rolled her eyes. — And then on to a better neural network so she could process information faster at her cheap job. And so on in circles, endlessly.

She took a deep breath, as if trying to calm down, but you could still hear the irritation in her voice:

— It’s all laid out like a corporate plan. Damn it! — She exhaled the last word, as if letting out the residue of her pent-up anger. — And there’s no way out… Not a single chance to break out of this vicious circle.

Anna sat up slowly, shaking the blades of grass and small flowers out of her hair. She looked at her friend carefully, sympathy mixed with a slight perplexity in her gaze.

— What’s wrong with that? — She asked softly, as if trying to reassure Dash. — It’s a kind of stability. Isn’t that what everyone wants?

Dash stared at Anna as if she had just offered to eat a live frog. Her eyes widened with surprise and indignation.

— What good would that do? — she exclaimed with a flutter of her hands. — Don’t you understand? Nova needs to understand, and you too — we live in a metropolis! It’s a different world, with other tasks, other opportunities, other men!

Dash’s eyes lit up with a feverish gleam as she began to describe her dreams. Her voice became more animated and her hands gesticulated vigorously, emphasising every word:

— Cars sexy, guys young, handsome, with opportunities. Just imagine! — She rolled her eyes dreamily. — And if you were lucky enough to marry a diplomat? A corporate one! That would be a whole different life!

Dash stepped forward, as if about to share a secret:

— You could go to the East, to the New Eastern Dynasty. They say they have technology there that would make ours seem like children’s toys. You can also go to Africa, to the South. — Her eyes glistened with excitement. — There, they say, such balls take place there that it takes your breath away! Can you imagine the opportunities there?

Anna listened to her friend with a slight smile of sympathy and disbelief. She shook her head, making her long hair sway gently.

— And how are you going to do that? — She asked, a slight doubt in her voice. — It’s not as easy as you describe.

Dash smiled playfully, and a sly glint appeared in her eyes. She slowly ran her hand through her hair, as if rehearsing a gesture of seduction:

— Anh, we are women and they are men. — She winked. — They are fools, and that’s something to be taken advantage of.

Anna frowned thoughtfully, considering her friend’s words. After a few seconds, she slowly stretched out:

— Ahh. Are you going to seduce men again? — She shook her head, a note of concern in her voice. — But think about it, why do they need us? They’ve got their own women, and there’s a lot of competition. You know what kind of girls are there — all of them are just like a selection.

Dash, as if not hearing her friend’s words, rose sharply to her feet. She began to slowly run her hands over her body, as if demonstrating the goods in the shop window — she ran her hands over her breasts, neck, outlined the curves of her hips, emphasised her narrow waist. Her movements were smooth and sensual, as if she were rehearsing a performance in front of an invisible audience.

— With her nose held up proudly, Dash declared with defiance in her voice:

— How are we any worse? We have something to show too!

Anna sighed heavily as she watched this performance. She rose to her feet, shaking off the sticking blades of grass from her clothes, and turned to her friend:

— All right, let’s say. But where will you meet these artists-diplomats? — A slight irony could be heard in her voice. — They don’t work at your freeze-dried pancake factory. Or do you think they just walk the streets in search of beautiful girls?

Dash, as if deflated, slowly sank back onto the grass. She leaned back with her hands behind her head and stared up at the sky. A passing cloud, illuminated by the sun, took on a shape vaguely resembling a man’s silhouette.

— It will take a long time to find them… — she stretched out dreamily, not taking her eyes off the cloud. — But like all problems, it’s solvable. You just have to approach the question in the right way.

The evening chill slowly enveloped the meadow, reminding them that it was time to return to the house. But neither Anna nor Dash seemed to notice it, continuing to lie in the grass and dream of their future, so uncertain but full of possibilities. But they had to get ready. The day of Nova and Faza’s parents’ acquaintance flew by quickly.

Chapter 5

Sunday at NeuroHub was hectic and noisy, like a beehive that had been suddenly knocked on by a careless passerby. The corridors, lined with luminous panels, were filled with people: some of them, having finished a gruelling night shift, were tiredly wandering back to their flats, their eyes red from lack of sleep, and their faces frozen with an expression of relief at the thought of the forthcoming rest. Others, just awake, hurried to work, adjusting their clothes and sipping synthetic coffee from self-heating cups. The air hummed with the many voices, laughter and jokes exchanged among the inhabitants of this female realm. The melodic sounds of the neural network reminding them of the day’s schedule mingled with the sound of footsteps and the hum of automatic doors.

In one of Neurohab’s flats, located on the 47th floor overlooking a metropolis glittering with neon lights, Dash, a young woman with long hair and a chiselled figure, slowly opened her eyes. She squinted against the bright light streaming in through the automatic blinds, which gradually rose to mimic a natural sunrise. Her sleepy voice, hoarse from sleep, broke the morning silence of the room:

— Why the hell are you getting me up on a Sunday? — she muttered, addressing an invisible neural network whose soft blue light pulsed in the corner of the room. — Nova where?

Anya, already dressed and ready to go, stood in front of a video mirror that showed her image from different angles. She was fixing her make-up. Without taking a break from her work, Anya answered:

— Nova had already left an hour ago with Faza again to her parents’ dacha. Can you imagine, so early in the morning! Apparently, the fresh air and natural products did their job — she is an early bird now.

Dash, still lying in bed with her eyes closed, raised her hand, pointing her finger at the ceiling. Her movements were slow and clumsy, as if every joint needed lubrication:

— Remember, Anya, what I told you yesterday? — she yawned with her mouth wide open. — Like I said, this is what happens. Tomorrow I’ll go shopping for a washing machine or a kettle.

Anya, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow in surprise, turned to her friend. Her gaze slid over Dash’s dishevelled hair, her sleepy face and the crumpled bed.

— Where are you going this early?

Dash finally peeled her eyelids open and stared at Anya, who looked flawless in her tight-fitting smart fabric suit. Dash’s eyes were still clouded with sleep, and her movements were slow and clumsy, as if she were trying to move underwater.

— Where are you going this early? — Dash asked, yawning and stretching again. Her body, hidden under a weightless blanket that kept her body at an optimum temperature, arched, showing off her perfect curves.

Anya, fastening the last button on her blouse, replied:

— Time to go to my relatives. They sent a message, the neural network delivered it only in the morning. Can you imagine, in our century, and such failures! Sometimes I think that all this high technology fails us more often than good old-fashioned paper letters.

Damn bitch,» Anna continued, referring to the neural network. Her voice was full of irritation. — She doesn’t want to work properly, and you piss her off, and then we all suffer. The message came yesterday, and I just got it today. Don’t fight with the neural net, Dash. Remember what happened last time you called it a useless piece of plastic? We were without hot water for a week. Then she mocked you with the presidential palace.

Dash yawned again, opening her mouth wide and stretching her whole body. Her long legs, smooth and hairless thanks to permanent laser hair removal, peeked out from under the blanket, and her dishevelled hair created a halo around her head like some sleepy saint’s halo.

— What relatives? — she asked through another yawn, trying to focus her gaze on her friend.

Anya, having finished with her make-up, turned to Dash:

— «It’s a great uncle. A professor, mum’s relative. I told you a few months ago that I lived with them when I came to the metropolis, even before I settled in NeuroHub. Remember?

Dash slowly sat up on the bed, scratching her foot against her leg and stretching. Her movements were fluid and graceful despite her drowsiness. The sheet slipped off, exposing a perfect body:

— Well, yes, yes, yes… I remember something. No, I don’t remember anything,» she mumbled to herself, trying to piece together the disparate memories into a coherent whole. — And then after that, where to? Will you spend the whole weekend on the old professor?

Anya, putting on her high-heeled shoes with built-in shock absorbers that allowed her to walk for hours without fatigue, replied:

— «Then I’m going to stop off at some gallery or theatre. I’ll pick one on the way. The neural network promised to find something interesting, taking into account my preferences and mood. Maybe I could even go to that art exhibition everyone was talking about.

Neural Net suddenly intervened in the conversation with a giggle of sarcasm, her voice, melodic and slightly mechanical, filling the room:

— Hee hee, cultural programme for the weekend? Don’t forget to bring your aesthetic perception neurostimulator, Anna. Recent studies show that it increases the pleasure of viewing art by 37 per cent.

Anya raised her head to the ceiling and said with slight irritation:

— Yes, yes, I remember, we’re all so cultured. Just don’t start teasing me with this topic again. And they’re expensive for my salary.

Dash, still naked, stood in front of the video mirror, which instantly came to life, showing her reflection from different angles and offering make-up and hair options. She stretched slowly and sleepily, kneading every muscle:

— I’m teaching you, Anya, and you don’t listen to me,» she said as she watched the mirror illuminate the areas of her body that needed cosmetic care. — You won’t meet professors, diplomats, actors in that gallery. Who goes there? Visitors from the periphery of the metropolis, like Faz Nova. All those newcomers who think that after seeing a couple of concerts they’ll become cultured.

Anya, fixing her hair, which was falling into place obediently under her fingers, objected:

— I go to look at pictures, at the history of art, not to meet men. Do you really think that in this century people go to museums just to socialise? There are still connoisseurs of beauty, you know.

Dash, finally a little awake and stretching, leaned on the table, involuntarily showing off her breasts:

— And I got a pass to the library’s science lab,» she said, squinting slyly. — That’s where you can meet the scientists at Syntracore Industries. And they get paid, do you know how much? They say they even have implants to increase intelligence.

Anya asked in surprise, her eyebrows creeping upwards, creating slight wrinkles on her forehead:

— Why? You don’t understand anything about prosthetics. Or have you suddenly decided to change careers and become a neuroengineer?

Dash spread her arms and fell back onto the bed, sipping her nakedly beautiful body:

— Do you know who’s sitting there? — She stretched out wistfully and romantically, looking up at the ceiling. — Scientists! Aren’t you listening to me? These are not just nerds in glasses, but real geniuses of our time. Can you imagine what interesting salaries they must have? And maybe there is some young and handsome researcher among them, dreaming of a beautiful muse?

Anya chuckled, shaking her head:

— And you’re gonna listen to them read or talk to them about prosthetics and augmentation? Dash, honey, you fall asleep when I try to tell you about my work in the chemical metallurgy department. What are you going to do among scientists?

Dash raised her head, resting her hand on her elbow. Her eyes lit up with a mischievous glint:

— Oh, you understand a lot about men,» she said with a slight chuckle. — There’s a bar where they can flirt. Can you imagine the exquisite compliments they must have? «Your eyes shine brighter than the quantum processor of my latest invention.» Isn’t that romantic?

Anya shook her head, smiling. She was used to this kind of talk by now.

— At the moment when Dash, dressed in an exquisite dress that accentuated her slender figure and graceful body lines, entered the spacious hall of the data centre, a sense of expectation hung in the air. High heels, lightly clacking against the cold floor, created a melody that attracted the gazes of young scientists immersed in their screens and endless lines of code. She walked with her hips wiggling confidently, as if knowing that her presence could wake up even the most inveterate of workaholics.

The corridors of this huge building, where young specialists worked, were filled with desks littered with papers and monitors on which lines of code flashed. Dash, passing by, cast glances at the concentrated faces of the guys, who seemed to be immersed in their thoughts, like mice digging through their papers. Their faces were focused and their eyes were tired, as if they hadn’t seen the light beyond their screens. In the silence, broken only by the whirring of servos, Dash took a seat at one of the empty desks, pretending to work. She leafed through the forms, read the lines, but her thoughts were far from work.

Twenty minutes passed, and, unable to stand it, she jumped up from her seat as if she had been suddenly struck by an epiphany. Her body, full of energy and adventure, demanded movement. She left the data centre hall, leaving behind an atmosphere of boredom and routine, and headed for the bar, where she hoped there were more interesting people waiting for her.

The bar had a completely different atmosphere. The young engineers gathered around the tables were lively discussing their projects, sharing ideas and jokes. One of them, with a short haircut and glasses on his nose, laughed at the joke of his neighbour, who, lighting a cigar, ironically said:

— If our algorithms worked as fast as you tell jokes, we would have conquered Mars by now!

Laughter echoed throughout the bar, and Dash, entering the space, felt her mood instantly improve. She looked around the room and her gaze stopped on a group of men who, noticing her, immediately began exchanging glances full of admiration.

— Hello, beautiful! — said one of them, with a smile that could melt ice. — How did you get here? We thought that all beautiful girls worked only in fashion boutiques!

Dash, feeling a surge of confidence, replied with a slight chuckle:

— Did you think I couldn’t be smart and beautiful at the same time?

Her words sounded with a playful intonation, and the young people sitting at the table instantly started showering her with compliments.

— You are incredible! — exclaimed another, looking at her with admiration. — No matter how many hours you spend in this centre, you still look like the cover of a magazine! But I’ve never seen you before.

Dash, feeling the centre of attention, smiled, but deep down she knew that these young men, despite their admiration, were too modest to make the first move. They were like the uptight ones who were afraid of beautiful women, as if their beauty could shatter their fragile world.

— Well, boys,“ she said, winking, „maybe one of you can tell me what you do here. What do you do for a living?

In the evening, as the sky turned deep, rich shades of blue and the lights of the city began to twinkle like stars through the veil of night, Dash was on her way to NeuroHub. Walking down the long corridor, she suddenly bumped into Anna. Both girls, tired after a long and busy day, but full of impressions and emotions, silently exchanged glances of understanding and support. Their steps merged in a rhythm, creating a melody.

When they entered the shower room, steam filled the space, creating an atmosphere of cosiness and relaxation. The water flowed over their bodies, washing away the tiredness and tension as if to embrace each of them. Dash turned to Anna and began to discuss how their day had gone, her voice tinged with sincerity and slight discontent.

— You know,» she began, wiping drops of water from her face and running her hand through her damp hair, «I’m just shocked by these young men. They’re so promising, and yet they’re so dull! They can’t even say compliments,» she said indignantly, rolling her eyes and sighing as if she couldn’t believe what she was saying. — I was telling them such noodles, such nonsense, that it seems to me, it is necessary to give again in the first class for my nonsense. They sit, listening, nodding, but their eyes are empty, as if they don’t understand what I’m saying.

Anna, tying her braid, listened attentively to her friend. Dash continued without noticing how her words filled the mental atmosphere:

— Listen, Anya, let’s go there together tomorrow? — she suggested, hoping for the support and understanding that had always been between them.

Anna, turning to her, replied with a slight smile:

— I’d love to, but I’m moving tomorrow.