Neon Hearts

– 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.