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– Here’s my card, dial it if you have any questions at the gate.
Audley held out a card that shimmered in shades of purple. It showed an image of a woman with a blindfold and no arms on a red background and the initials «R.O.»
– Got it, I’ll call you!
The presentation was over. The men moved back toward the exit, discussing the platform and its possibilities. The corridor changed into a corridor, and a new one appeared around the corner. At one point Robert’s words began to sound worse, as if he was moving away. Adam looked at him, but – no, the man was beside him. He wiped his face with the palm of his hand, continuing to nod in agreement. His head began to spin. The colors of the floor and walls began to blend, and the shapes of objects distorted. Adam squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his palms around his temples, but it didn’t get any easier. He looked at Audley again. Audley was still talking, but he couldn’t make out what he was saying. Suddenly a cool wind blew in from somewhere, and things got worse: the skin on Robert’s face began to crumble, followed by other parts of his body and clothes. After a couple of seconds, the feeling of the floor beneath his feet disappeared, and his eyes saw only a multicolored swirl of particles that had lost their place. Adam had no more strength. He fell to his knees as he continued to clutch his maddening head with the palms of his hands.
«The neurointerface was broken, – he thought panickedly. – None of this is real, it’s all a mistake in my head!»
When he heard the pleasant music, he gingerly opened his eyes. He didn’t see the whirlwind of particles, but what was in their place amazed him just as much. He was kneeling in the middle of a restaurant terrace. There were neat tables all around with a beautiful view of the river. At one of them sat a woman. Her graceful body was covered by a black evening dress with a large neckline, revealing a refined back. Her hair was neatly gathered, pinned back with a silver hairpin, and a single lock of hair dangled to the left. In a thousand years, Adam would have recognized his beloved Annet.
– Sweetheart? – Continuing to believe that everything around him was unreal, Adam turned to her cautiously.
Annet fixed the curl, turned slowly and looked at the spot where it had been. Her gaze was sad, lost. In addition, it was as if she were not looking at him, but somewhere farther away, as if through him. A lone tear rolled down her cheek and something prickled in Adam’s heart. He couldn’t see her suffering. He felt her pain, oblivious to his own pain, oblivious to everything, real and unreal. Adam tried to jump up and hug his wife, to comfort her, but an unknown force prevented him from doing so, reminding him of what had happened. Despite this, he screamed, but Annet did not hear his words. She continued to look through him, somewhere far away, into the void, and just cried.
– Annet!!! – Adam once again shouted without restraint.
He trembled with the emotions overwhelming him, unable to change anything. All his feelings, all the emotions he had ever suppressed and held back, were bursting out of him. He couldn’t think or reason. His only goal was to reach his beloved, to touch her with a finger, to wipe the tears of bitterness from her face and tell her that he loved her.
A bright flash lit up the sky, which had time to darken and turn emerald green. Adam squeezed his eyes shut against its brightness, covered himself with his hand, bent over. The flash was followed by a rumble, the vibrations of which echoed in his chest. When he raised his head again, he saw a rapidly growing cloud in the distance, full of fire and hatred for all living things. Like boiling water, it swelled from within, expanded and flowed across the valley, killing everything in its path. Adam looked at his wife, but she didn’t move, not even to look away from the target she could see.
– Annet, please, come to me!
Her lips quivered, ajar, letting loose:
– I love you, – she said softly, and in the same instant she was gone in a wave of fire.
Everything around him was burning, melting and vaporizing. Adam felt the incredible heat, but remained untouched. When the wave passed, there was nothing around: there was no terrace, no tables, not even the chair where his beloved had sat a second ago. She was gone, too. All that was left were flames and hopelessness, desolation and pain. Tears flowed from his eyes. Even the rocks, which had turned from the heat into streams of red-hot lava, cried with him. The world, so beautiful and so beloved before, now resembled the heart of hell in its most colorful descriptions. He was on his knees. He had no power to do anything, no longer at the mercy of an unknown force, but drowned by grief and sorrow. Time no longer existed for him. He was doomed to be miserable, doomed to see his wife’s wet eyes in his nightmares and hear her last words.
Adam didn’t even notice he was off the ground. He climbed higher and faster, watching without feeling as cities, villages, forests, and even mountains burned, as rivers vaporized and boiled from the high temperatures. He saw dozens, hundreds of the same uncompromisingly destructive fire clots and a mysterious emerald glow in the spaces between them. The Earth seemed to be gone. Now it was sick, but no longer with the presence of life on it, but on the contrary with its death, its absence.
– Hey, are you okay? – A familiar male voice sounded from somewhere far away.
Instantly, everything was gone, switched like a channel on an ancient television. Adam saw the hallway, the floor and the walls again. He turned his head at the sound and saw Audley leaning over him.
– I’ll call the medics,» he said. – How are you feeling?
– No need for medics,» Adam replied in a shaky voice. – I think it’s a side effect of the neural interface,» he added immediately, gradually regaining consciousness. – I’m sorry you had to witness that. I didn’t realize it could be so serious.
– When did you use it?
– Before we met. I’m sorry. I’m fine. Really, don’t worry. I’ll get help myself.
Audley stared incredulously, but then straightened up and asked in a different tone.
– Can you walk?
– Yes, of course.
Adam rose to his feet. He felt no physical discomfort now. His head didn’t ache, his body was full of energy. It was as it should be, but the feelings – damn them! They continued to rage inside, interfering with his thinking, nullifying his attempts to appear ’normal’.
The drive to the lobby passed in complete silence. Adam did his best to keep his cool. In his mind he berated himself for daring to use the neurointerface, knowing that it was damaged. That could have ended badly at all. He had to finish his business with Robert and then go through a recovery course. If he’d just done poorly on a medical test before, and had taken the matter less than seriously, now, faced with the real consequences, he felt fear. If something like this happened again, it was far from certain that his nervous system would hold up. And then everything would come to an end. Even if he didn’t die, he would be an invalid for life, unable to do anything, and that was frightening.
– Yes… – Robert broke the silence as they entered the vaults of the lobby dome. – Stop using the neural interface. I know it saves a lot of time, but in our reality, should we be rushing? It would be a shame if one of these toys took everything away from you.
– You’re certainly right,» Adam agreed. – Again, I apologize for this awkwardness. It’s embarrassing, really.
– Forget it. Get well. But remember, I’ll see you tomorrow.
– Yes, of course,» Adam nodded.
– Dead or alive!
– Alive, I hope. I’m very intrigued by you.
Both of them laughed. One, not a natural, working laugh, the other, just as unfairly, overpowering the storm of emotion that still lingered inside.
No sooner had Robert left the walls of the Center than a vibration pierced his hand – a ringing.
– Did he leave? How did it go? – Agatha was excited.
– It went well, but he twisted my arms. I’ll have to go to his office with a prototype. He promised to sign a contract for three hundred thousand units,“ Adam exhaled and added a little more quietly, „Agatha, can I come up and talk to you if I have a minute?
– Uh, sure. Come on in and tell me all about it. Three hundred thousand is even more than we expected, well done! – The director replied briefly, and ended the call.
The door to Agatha’s office was ajar so that snippets of the newscast could still be heard from the hallway:
– «Panic attacks day» – so dubbed this day by medics and scientists all over the world. Hundreds of thousands of cases of uncontrollable visions have been recorded in the countries of the North Atlantic Alliance and the Federation of Independent States. Victims claim to have seen the end of the world associated with the use of weapons of mass destruction. – The heart is racing. – Against the background of these events, a number of non-profit associations have already become active, demanding the complete destruction of old stockpiles of nuclear weapons and the closure of all nuclear facilities. Spontaneous rallies have begun in many cities. We have North Atlantic Alliance spokesman Major Arthur Kirk live with us:
– We can’t give an explanation for these strange visions,» came a stern commanding voice. – I’m getting data from scientists. They attribute this phenomenon to unusual activity on the Sun. The only thing we can assure you of is that there can be no military action using the old nuclear arsenal.
A janitorial robot ran down the corridor, catching Adam, who had been listening to the major’s statements, off guard. He recoiled, whispered a curse, and then glanced back at the doorway where Arthur Kirk’s speech was coming from.
– I have already spoken with my counterpart in the Federation of Independent States, – the major continued. – We have once again confirmed all agreements under the treaty on the storage and use of nuclear weapons. We have been living in peace and harmony for more than thirty years, and there is no reason for either our side or the government of the Federation of Independent States to start hostilities.
I haven’t had faith in politicians for a long time. It came from my father. When he watched the news, he always scolded them, calling them bums and freeloaders. Adam didn’t think of them as such, but he had no faith in their words.
– We ask the public to take today’s events calmly and let the scientists figure it all out,» the speakers continued. – I can also confirm that today’s phenomenon affected only citizens of the North Atlantic Alliance and the Federation of Independent States.
«Interesting, us and the FNG people are affected by the sun, but the others aren’t? It’s all nonsense,» – the thoughts rang in the head.
– We’ll keep you informed and make all the necessary checks to get to the bottom of this and make a clear assessment of today’s events,» Kirk promised confidently, setting the record straight.
Adam knocked on the office door and opened it ajar. The director was sitting at her desk, reviewing the vision recordings already available online. The images were familiar: the explosion, the flames destroying everything around them, and the ashes left by the wave that had passed.
– That’s news to me! I thought it was my neural interface playing tricks on me,» Adam said as he slowly approached the screen with pictures of the victims’ memories.
– Did you get it too? – Agatha asked anxiously.
– Yeah, the moment I walked Robert out. Must have blacked out for a couple of seconds. It’s all very strange.
The principal frowned and shook her head:
– Look, go home, get some rest. I don’t know what any of this means, and you have to close Audley’s contract tomorrow. Get two vials for the Capsule from the warehouse. For yourself and your wife, just in case. If they’re not better by tonight, I suggest you use them. Tell them I asked for them. Recuperate and close the R.G.I. issue tomorrow, that’s the main thing.
– Agatha, if it’s not a non-interface, I’m totally fine!
The principal was adamant.
– Go and do as I say. – She turned off the videotape, stood up, came closer and added more gently, – We’ll talk about the results tomorrow. Meanwhile, get some treatment. I can’t risk my lead engineer.
The journey home was not a quick one. Thousands of cars and other vehicles were slowly making their way through the city streets in a single stream. There was a buzzing noise all around. The whistling of electric motors, the shouts of outraged people wanting to get away faster, and the panicked roar of the crowd, invisible and scattered everywhere.
Chapter 3: Prisoner of the Desert
«Memento mori,» the inscription above the entrance to the massive old cathedral, was the only thing I could make out. The sun was blinding his eyes, scorching his flesh, wanting to squeeze every drop out of his still-living body. The wanderer’s skillfully made bionic prosthetic arms were bound, his legs, deprived of strength, refused to move, but the discharges of the stun gun and the encouraging shouts of the cassock-clad pursuers forced him to take another painful step.
The entrance archway was left behind. The thick stone walls kept the desired coolness perfectly. The prisoner’s body reacted immediately. A shiver ran through him, his eyes opened and looked up languidly. Beneath the high vault of the dome there were puffs of smoke from hundreds of lamps and thousands of candles. Their scent, sweet but not cloying, tickled the sense of smell, stupefying, making him see images and pictures that did not really exist in the rays of the sun, breaking through the murky multicolored stained glass.
The captive was so weak that he could no longer walk on his own. His legs had collapsed, but he did not fall, having been picked up by two pairs of strong arms. Now he was dragged across the cold stone floor like a sack of something of little value, and carelessly dumped at the altar, as if to confirm this comparison. With a groan, the captive leaned on his mechanical prosthetics and looked in front of him. Behind the massive golden altar stood a man in red religious robes – his captor and the hated enemy he wanted to destroy. There was no strength now to even stand up. Fate had turned its back on the captive. He had come into the desert with a small band, driven by pride and belief in his own omnipotence, and now all his men were dead. Only he was left, barely alive, barely breathing, but still unbroken.
The clergyman closed the scripture with the big «V» on the cover and leaned over.
– The wisdom of the prudent is to know his way; the folly of the foolish is to wander in all things,» said the old man in a hoarse voice, leaning toward the half-living man’s ear.
He continued to stare in front of him, not showing any emotion. Noticing this, the priest continued.
– You are Marcus the Armless, leader of the godless Capers, your name is known in many parts of the new world, you are often spoken of on the sidelines of New Babylon. Have you been so foolish as to go after my death on your own and without an army? I had a better opinion of you, but now I see that you are no different from other ignorant men who would die for prejudice. You’ve been here almost a month,» he went on to say. – All your friends have long ago learned the truth, joined the Order, and now carry its banner with honor and dignity. We are here to save people,» the Bishop added a little more gently, with feigned concern. – We give their lives meaning. Despite your past deeds and terrible desires, I truly believe that your life has meaning too. I will help your lost soul and save it.
The captive couldn’t help himself and, coughing, laughed.
– You’re nothing but a fantasist, a psycho in bling,» he said with dry throat. – You can’t help my soul. You can’t help yourself. You’re right, I am Marcus Armless, and I’m not spoken of for nothing, you foolish pawn Stephany. Your order will fall because there’s nothing behind it but words. Your goddess is fiction, and the one who allowed me to rise is real. So laugh at me all you want. It won’t change the future. I’ll predict it for you, though I don’t usually do that. Come here, bend over a little lower. You don’t want to? Well, then I’ll tell you, for all your wingmen to hear, you’re gonna die and I’m gonna live. And that’s not gonna change. We all serve someone, and every service has a price. Your price is a fat belly and a bunch of idiots around you believing your every word, and mine is the flesh and soul you care so much about. But, know this, you give as much as you get in return. You haven’t sacrificed anything, you’ve only taken. But don’t worry about that, Franco. Your goddess couldn’t have given you anything if you’d sacrificed everything you had. You know why? Because she’s Stefania’s idea. Veritas is a fairy tale for pathetic, battered and broken people.
– Heresy! – The Bishop couldn’t help himself. – How dare you defame the name of the great Goddess in her temple!
– Oh, spare me your stupidity and shoot me in the head. You’d be a bad name to besmirch.
Franco slapped his palm on the altar irritably, but immediately pulled himself together and, adjusting his cassock, replied:
– You’re incorrigible, Armless. You lack the wisdom to admit defeat. Goddess knows I meant well. I forgive your rash words, for you know not what you say. But Veritas sees everything. After this worldly life comes eternal life, and your suffering will be eternal, for no one’s prayers can save a sinner from just punishment. You will work out your sins by becoming part of the corps of the Knower. And know this, – Franco leaned toward the prisoner again, – I will rejoice when I see you obey my commands without thought,» he whispered, then straightened up and waved to his escorts. – The initiation ritual will take place today! – he said loudly. – Prepare yourselves, brothers and sisters, for on this day the legend of the godless world will become part of our sacred circle for the glory of the goddess and the truth that she brings with her!
Marcus was lifted from the cold floor and dragged back to the cell that had become his prison. As they dragged him, he laughed. He was gaunt, his face gaunt, his muscles withered, but his faith was strong.
– You hear that, Franco?! – he shouted, his throat tearing up. – You’re dead and that’s not going to change! You are a slave to Stefania’s fairy tales, and I am a free privateer! Capers serve no one! We pay blood for blood and death for death! You don’t understand this, you fat bastard, but a free man can’t be forced to sell his freedom, he can only be killed!
The gates of the temple slammed shut. The dry air filled his lungs again, tickled his throat again, causing nauseating coughing fits. Marcus was dragged down a long path with no shadow, a twisted kind of revenge of men incapable of decisive action. At the end he was thrown to the floor of the cell. The massive door rattled, the old electronic locks came into motion and closed, leaving him alone.
The dungeon was not as cool as the cathedral, but it was much better than the blazing sun. He had not been fed for more than twenty-four hours and was tied to a pole in the middle of the square. What the fiends had tried to do to break his spirit, but he was more than just a man. He was still Marcus Armless, the great leader of the Capers, destined to become the most powerful ruler of the survivors of the Day of Reset. He tried not to think about the initiation rite into the Corps of the Cognizers. He knew it was impossible to resist the rite, but deep down he felt confident of a better future. Marcus crawled to the bowl of murky liquid and emptied it greedily.
The initiation rite of the Order of Truth was nothing more than a spectacle built around zombifying people with psychotropic drugs. In this way, the Order added to its ranks those who were needed, but refused to share beliefs in the goddess voluntarily. The Order was a large and powerful organization with a center in the mysterious city of New Babylon. The sermons of its leader, St. Mark Stephany, echoed through the communication channels every day, easily instilling faith in the downtrodden minds of the survivors. Stephany promised everyone and anyone peace, food and shelter, salvation of the soul and, of course, the protection of the Goddess of Truth – Veritas. Because of these broadcasts, tens of thousands of people, full of hope, were rushing to New Babylon.
Along the way, some travelers died from lack of supplies, some were killed in battles with local fauna and weather conditions, while others ran into Outcasts, bandits, or fell under the influence of followers of smaller organizations and groups. And all this happened before the main test – the vast desert, which spread out in place of the once rich in water – the Mediterranean Sea. Those who still managed to reach it and survived, awaited a fascinating journey through hundreds of kilometers of sand dunes, where the last notes of reason left their masters. Few people reached Babylon, and no one ever returned from there in their right mind. More often than not, the end point of the journey was the order’s stakes, pulling half-dead people out of the clutches of the merciless desert. Marcus was in one of them. New arrivals were first sent to the sacred service, which lasted a long twelve hours. Prayers and sacred chants were hammered into the heads of the future followers of the order with the help of stupefying herbs. Many during the service could not stand it and fell down, but time after time they were lifted up, brought to their senses, forced to listen and accept the rules of their future life.
Marcus didn’t come here following a sermon. He and his men were out for revenge. Every Caper knew that there was only one just payment for the death of his own – the death of their killers. And the Order’s troops had killed and enslaved many Capers and their dear people. Unfortunately, the desert proved to be stronger than any enemies. First the supplies ran out, then, without water and food, the very life in the once great warriors began to die. One by one, the illustrious soldiers of the Capers fell exhausted among the sands of the vast desert – death due to stupidity and, as a result, a complete failure of the campaign.
When they were found by the Order, the Capers were able to fight, but did not win. Most of them died in the sands as food for insects and predators, and the rest were dragged to the headquarters. They were not driven to the sermon. First, it was necessary to break their spirit, to prepare them to accept the rules of the Order. However, even here the managers of the headquarters miscalculated. After all, they captured not ordinary survivors, but Capers – warriors and the most freedom-loving people on the planet. All of them chose death over serving a false goddess. Only Marcus remained.
The armless lay down on the floor and closed his eyes. The wind howled outside the window. Small grains of sand crashed against the prison walls. Soon they would come for him. It was there that everything would be decided, where he would die, like his men, preferring death to slavery. He was almost asleep when he heard a lone cry of pain. His eyes opened, his hearing sharpened. In the next instant, the horn of the Order howled. Someone was attacking the camp. Behind the bacchanalia of gunfire, shouts and screams, the rustling of sand and the horror-stricken clatter, the wind was now almost inaudible. Marcus listened to every sound with excitement in his heart. What was happening behind the wall, how it would end, he did not know. But his confidence in the correct prophecy of the future for Franco and his minions grew stronger by the minute. It wasn’t him, it was them.
Soon the sounds of the struggle faded, giving full authority to the howl of the wind. Marcus rose to his feet, tensing every muscle, trying to hear something, but there was only the wind outside. The captive slid disappointedly down the wall, settling back on the floor. The silence did not bode well for him.
He was beginning to fall back into sleep when footsteps sounded outside the door. Someone was walking heavily down the hallway, leaning against the walls now and then. The lock rattled, and the door opened. Standing in the doorway was an officer of the Order’s guard, a strong and powerful warrior. He was badly wounded. His right knee, encased in an exoskeleton, had been punctured, and a bloody stump was writhing in the place of his left arm. Such wounds were not survivable in the desert. As if he didn’t realize it, the officer, faithful to orders, looked at the prisoner nonchalantly and said hoarsely:
– Your time has come. Follow me.
After saying that, he staggered and fell. Marcus couldn’t believe his luck. This brainless idiot, loyal to the rules and orders, had come and opened the door for him without even thinking that he was about to die? And this is the elite of the Order’s troops? The armless man felt a mute exultation. He was preparing to fight for the right to be killed, and here he was given the gift of freedom! A happy coincidence, or the help of someone he tried not to mention – the owner of his soul and hands. Whatever the case, the opportunity had to be seized.
Searching for his last remaining strength, Marcus began to search the officer’s still warm body. A flask on his hip, a pouch of herbs, a knife and a respirator – no lasgun or stimulants. This Cognizer had lost all the most important things, but what he had with him could help him to fulfill his plan. The discovery of a piece of chitinous shell stuck in the back of the dead man was an unpleasant discovery. It belonged to a sand scout, the curse of the desert, a mutant that had taken the best of the scorpion and the crab, and was a good hundred times the size of his tribesmen. The scouts of the sandpeople were real monsters, not easy to kill. Still, if one wanted to live, one had to kill them all. Otherwise, if even one of the scouts survived, he would lead the rest of the swarm, which were millions of hungry mouths ready to devour everything they ate.
Finished with the search, Marcus ran outside. The bright light blinded him. Covering his eyes with his hand, trying to get used to it faster, he moved forward cautiously. The remains of torn bodies lay everywhere. The smell of fresh blood lingered in the air. At one of the corpses, Marcus bent down to pick up a lasgun. The body of an Order follower torn in two was beginning to swell with the effects of the poison, exuding a stench. The armless man pulled a handkerchief with the Order’s symbol painted on it from the dead man’s neck and covered his face with it. Inhaling such a thing was no less dangerous than being exposed to the poison. The vapors from it could stupefy, hallucinate, and even kill.
There were many casualties from the battle with the Sandmen, and there were not even a dozen killed crustacean monsters in sight. Apparently, the Order members had been taken by surprise. Whether or not anyone had survived, Marcus did not check. There was a clattering sound from behind the temple, which meant that the Sandmen scouts were still around. He had to leave the place without delay, and he knew the way to the gate.
He turned around only when the Order’s headquarters was about to disappear over the sandy hill. His excitement was waning, and now Marcus could think of his loyal fighters who had died in this cursed place. They had fought alongside him for years, each one of them as dear to him as a family member. They believed in him and went with him to their deaths. They died, and he could barely move his feet on the sands of the vast desert, not knowing where he was going, but knowing why. He is Marcus the Armless, the great leader of the Capers, destined to become the most powerful ruler of the survivors of the Day of Zero. For this, he sacrificed his soul and his hands. He couldn’t die, his master wouldn’t let that happen.
Chapter 4: Day of Zero
Adam woke up feeling uneasy. He had been having nightmares all night. He hadn’t been able to rest and regain his strength properly and, judging by the clock, he could forget about the hope of replenishing what he needed. Next to him, curled up, Annet slept sweetly. The disturbing visions of the past day had escaped her, but she was still nervous after reading the news and watching a couple of topical shows. Some were talking about a new virus, others were replicating the official version of solar flares – there were many opinions, but each one seemed sillier than the last. Adam was just glad that Annet was all right, that she was safe and sound, that she was finally home by his side. He sighed contentedly, kissed his wife and got out of bed.
The cool shower washed away the remnants of sleep, leaving only a mild headache. First the non-interface, then the dreams and visions. And, no, not that there was anything positive in them, only fear, pain, and a sense of emptiness. Their echoes were still being felt. All this couldn’t help him come to his senses, and he wanted to have only a couple of underestimated projects. From the news, Adam heard about three dozen detainees, a couple of broken storefronts, a dozen damaged robots, and six destroyed cars. After eating a sandwich and leaving a note for his wife, he decided to make up for yesterday’s time loss and headed to the Center early.
The city’s roads were empty. Only the occasional cleaning robot or police drone came into view. Calm and peaceful – everything was as it always was, as if the phenomenon had never happened. There was plenty of traffic in the Center despite the lack of life. Robots were changing at their posts and scurrying everywhere, engines squealing, driving the wind through the spacious hallway. One of the robots came close and stopped.
– Monsieur Perket, – said the machine in the voice of a popular announcer. – Agatha Becker left you a message, would you like to hear it now?
– Yeah, go ahead.
Agatha’s voice came over the speaker: «Good morning. I hope you’re up and able to close the matter with RoboticsGangIndustries. I’ve sent one copy to them, like you said. When you’re done, I’ll expect a call and a meeting. There are a number of issues to discuss. Good luck!».
Adam scanned his finger, acknowledging receipt of the message, and set off to gather what he needed for the workshop. He downloaded the contract, presentation, and technical documentation onto the secure key and, spitting on his much-loved neurointerface, set off.
The RoboticsGansIndustries office was located twenty kilometers from the city. It was combined with a production and shipping workshop – a small part of a huge complex. The whole complex was located on fifty hectares and could easily claim the status of a small city. Thousands of robots under the control of hundreds of people were constantly working on its territory. They serviced production lines, worked in assembly shops, in design offices and commercial offices. Volumes were frantic and, to keep business growing, it was decided eight years ago to create a closed eco-environment around key facilities. RGI built a power plant using RITEG technology, dug its own water well with the purest mineral water, and even put in a few decent restaurants. Then the main pride of the company appeared – an advanced testing ground used for product testing. Soon after, the approach to the protection of all this changed. Instead of the usual perimeter fence, thick concrete structures studded with live metal inserts were erected, and hundreds of drones monitored the airspace day and night. Like little bees carrying honey to the hive, they flew tiredly and leisurely to the barracks to recharge, change batteries, and then returned to their duty stations again, cheerfully and cheerfully. Arms production is a high-risk area, but even for it, the measures around the main branch of the RGI were considered something unprecedented in society.
Adam’s car pulled up to the checkpoint and stopped at the automatic badge system. After a retinal scan, a voice came from the speakers on the counter:
– Your passage has been approved. Robert Audley is waiting for you in the lobby of A Wing. You will be escorted. Follow the escort’s instructions until you arrive at your final destination.
The car was surrounded by four robot policemen with a wheelbase and, having asked to set the speed limit to sixty kilometers per hour, stood at the head of the convoy. Adam had never traveled under escort before, which made him feel a little uncomfortable, and the apparent security somehow made him feel anxious instead of reassured. His palms were covered with sweat. When the wing of the administrative center appeared ahead, a car with armed men on board joined the convoy. They were neither police nor military, strange men in paramilitary uniforms whose chevrons showed a blindfolded, armless woman. At the sight of them, excitement only built up and the sweating was no longer confined to the palms of my hands. Upon reaching the A-wing the procession came to a halt. Robert was already waiting.
