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,