Chapter 11: Chapter 11 - Shadow deals
A man with long arms, mottled with a network of implants, leaned over the smooth cubes of yojia, glistening in the soft light of the holograms. His fingers, covered in fine metallic threads, froze a millimeter from the smooth surface of one of the cubes, as if he could sense their essence without touching them. His yellow eyes, illuminated by artificial light, seemed too focused to be mere instruments of analysis. Each look was like a surgical incision.
- The merchandise ... flawless, - he said at last, his voice trembling and hissing as if the voice synthesizer modules were begging to be replaced. - However... the amount of the deal. That is beyond my authority. You should meet with whoever decides such matters.
I only nodded, suppressing my irritation. It was expected, but I still didn't like this theatrical game with the 'higher-ups'. A subtle performance where every gesture and word should impress me.
The elevator began to rise, its smooth motion echoing with vibrations in my legs. The cabin was narrow, the lighting dim, barely allowing me to make out the glint of metal around me. The coal smell of grease mingled with the tang of ozone, a constant companion of old machinery.
- You look like you're new to the upper levels, or to the planet, - the merchant said. His voice was smooth, but there was a slight note of superiority in every syllable.
- Is it that noticeable? - I grinned, raising my gaze to his face.
He turned slightly toward me, his eyes flashing gold, as if his built-in sensors were detecting my tone and expression.
- You can tell right away who came in from the outside here. But don't worry, people like you don't go unnoticed for long. It's always those who know their worth who rise to the top," he bowed his head, as if to see how deeply I would accept his words.
- Only if their price isn't too high,- I said, looking straight into his eyes. There was tension between us for a moment, then the corners of his lips quivered faintly in an almost respectful half-smile.
The elevator slowed, and the doors opened, letting us out into a corridor that was strikingly different from the gloomy levels below. Everything here shone with sterile luxury: perfectly smooth walls bordered by thin blue lines of illumination that seemed almost alive, like pulses along nerve endings. The floor reflected everything above it, creating a sense of infinite space.
A tall man was waiting for us at the end of the corridor. His movements were fluid, each a perfect combination of mechanical precision and human grace. His face was characterized by a frightening symmetry: too perfect to be real. Holographic patterns glowed faintly on his austere suit, emphasizing a status that spoke volumes but didn't shout.
I looked closer, and my eyes caught the thin lines that crisscrossed his skin in places where a normal person's blood vessels run. So inconspicuous that only a careful eye could recognize that it was a masterpiece of augmentation. You don't show them off. These installations were made for those who appreciate the balance between strength and the illusion of humanity.
The cyborg bowed his head respectfully, his movements mechanically precise, but there was something more to them, a discipline instilled by more than just programming.
- Master, here he is.
- Thank you. You may go, - the man waved his hand with a slight carelessness, as if warding off a minor disturbance.
The cyborg took a step back, the elevator doors closed behind his massive figure, and the hum of motors carried him to the lower levels. The silence that remained after he left seemed almost palpable.
It was just the two of us.
I took a step forward, scrutinizing the figure of the counselor. His austere black suit looked impeccable, though the thin lines of holographic illumination on the fabric gave away a level of technology beyond the reach of mere mortals. The lines flowed smoothly, emphasizing movement, but never distracting from the man himself. His eyes, golden and cold, as if chiseled from metal, met my gaze without hesitation.
- Greetings, - he said. His voice was perfect: smooth, devoid of emotion, but filled with a confidence that made even the most cold-blooded uncomfortable. - My servant reported that you have something that might attract the interest of our house.
I replied, keeping my tone neutral:
- I have a commodity that will interest not only your house, but many others as well. The question is whether you can offer something that will satisfy me.
His head bowed in a subtle gesture that combined respect with a subtle tinge of disdain. He was clearly accustomed to being the unquestioned authority in any conversation.
- Let us speak frankly, - he said, taking a smooth step toward the table. - House Sar'Tan is known for its influence. We don't just buy goods-we build alliances. If you choose to work with us, we will offer more than money.
- Like what? - I asked, crossing my arms across my chest.
He smiled slightly, a smile that looked like stretched steel wire, too perfect to be natural. Sliding his finger over an invisible panel, he activated a holographic display. The transparent screen flashed in the air, filled with columns of data, graphs and symbols that seemed to dance in rhythm with his movements.
- First, the price: four billion for each unit of your goods. Provided, of course, that you cooperate exclusively with our house. Second, access to our resources: technology whose capabilities I'm sure you already know. And finally, immunity. With our identification card, you'll be free to roam the entire planet. No questions from the authorities, no problems with competitors.
I pretended to think about it. His terms seemed too good to be true. Inside, I already knew the answer, but I allowed myself a theatrical pause.
- Guarantees? - I asked finally, making him tense up. - What's stopping your house from getting rid of me once I fulfill my end of the bargain?
His smile grew wider, but it didn't get warmer. It was the smile of a chess player who sees all the moves on the board.
- The guarantee is our reputation. House Sar'Tan does not break its treaties. That would be... inefficient. Nevertheless, your caution is commendable. That's why you'll have access to resources as soon as you complete your first deal. If you wish to leave after the terms are met, no one will hold you back.
I leaned closer to the table, letting the light of the holograms illuminate my features.
- That sounds convincing. But I prefer the proof of words. One item, one transaction. To make sure your intentions are as transparent as your offers.
He looked at me carefully, his gaze seeming x-rayed. He was silent for a few seconds before nodding briefly.
- A reasonable approach. I agree.
I slowly retrieved the container and set it on the table. The Counselor activated the scanner, a pattern of light ran across the surface of the container, and data began to load onto his display. The tension in the room increased. For several long seconds the screen flickered until the green light came on.
- Impressive, - he said, leaning back in his chair. His voice sounded warm for the first time. - Welcome to House Sar'Tan, Ellarion. I hope our cooperation will be long and fruitful. How would you prefer to be paid? Cash, online, or perhaps aurodium?
- By remittance, - I answered. - And I suppose you already know my account?
He smiled again, a smile more like a pattern of cold flame than a human emotion.
- Of course.
***
The Hive City reminds me of a living thing: its lower levels were guts filled with garbage, filth, and people clinging to the remnants of life. Down here, the air was thick and acrid, as if it had been distilled through someone's lungs millions of times.
The narrow corridors, littered with trash where neon light occasionally shone through the cracks in the walls, seemed like endless labyrinths. Metal pipes oozed steam and the walls were covered in rust stains mixed with an unknown slime.
People, or what was left of them, dragged themselves along these corridors, avoiding direct glances at each other. Bulky exoskeletons, hastily assembled from junk, creaked with every step. A woman with an artificial face that had no natural features left was shouting something to a child whose limbs were replaced by rusty prosthetic limbs.
Drones buzzed overhead, monitoring the order, but they had long since stopped interfering. Their presence here was more of a formality.
Now, standing on the upper level, I felt like I was in another world. The air here was fresh, purified by top-of-the-line filters. It smelled of something unnamed but definitely expensive, as if luxury could be inhaled.
The neon lights flooded everything around them with a soft, even glow, reflecting off the smooth metal surfaces. The sky - real or holographic - was impeccably clear, draped in light clouds.
I paced along the avenue, where the storefronts shone like artifacts in a museum. To the right was a boutique of cybernetic augmentations. Behind clear glass were mannequins displaying marvels of engineering: modular arms with attachments that could transform into weapons or tools; spines reinforced with titanium rods that allowed the wearer to move faster than the eye could catch. In the back of the display case, you could see "neural boosters" - chips that were inserted into the back of the head, accelerating thinking to AI levels.
The street was full of traffic. Hybrid cars glided silently along the magnetic rails, leaving a light trail of light behind them. Passersby, all as one, looked perfect: their faces, bodies, movements - everything was given off by the augmentations. Children, if they were children at all, were chasing drones that played with them, tossing balls of light.
I stopped in front of an outdoor stage. On a platform surrounded by an invisible energy field stood an artist, a man whose body had been replaced by machines.
His dance was perfect: smooth movements followed by sharp jerks, emphasizing an incredible precision that was beyond the reach of an ordinary person. His face, glowing with artificial beauty, smiled at the crowd. People clapped, throwing him credits through the pulse terminals.
Turning a corner, I came across a kiosk offering genetic modifications. Behind the glass I could see cryochambers with organs ready for transplant. The signs read:
"Improve yourself today! Extra lungs, a heart that can withstand up to 15G, or vision that sees through walls. All at a special price!"
Farther down the street, a display case was showing off combat automatons. Huge machines with thick armor whose lens-eyes followed every passerby stood motionless, but their presence seemed threatening. Nearby, miniature drones were advertised and offered in conjunction with personal security systems.
The periphery of this world was also alive. Along the road, vendors walked along, shouting out offers. One was selling the purest aurodium in crystal form. Another was showing off small genetically bred creatures that could work as miniature bodyguards.
There was also a bar on the corner whose sign read: "For the Chosen Only." Holograms of dancing figures beckoned inside, promising entertainment and pleasures not to be found downstairs.
And all the while, I could feel the stares. Passersby, without even stopping, noted my presence, as if scanning me. Everyone here knew his place and could tell without error where the stranger came from.
I was in no hurry. In every step I took, there was not only a desire to see the world, but also an intention to see what else I could take from it. A world built on wealth and technology was full of possibilities. And opportunities I was going to utilize to the last drop.
I turned onto a narrower street that led away from the shining avenues and deeper into the neighborhood. Here it was quieter, the light softer, and the storefronts more modest but no less impressive. I felt the world pulling me in like a huge organism, offering everything I could possibly want - for the right price.
At the corner stood a showcase, inside of which revolved massive columns of transparent material. Within them floated genetically modified creatures. Their bodies seemed both beautiful and terrifying at the same time: skins shimmering with bright colors, bioluminescent patterns glowing to the rhythm of their beating hearts. The plaque read:
"Beautiful and deadly. Companions and protectors, bred especially for you."
I lingered. One of the creatures inside the flask turned its head, meeting my gaze. Its eyes, huge and glittering with yellow light, studied me as if I were the exhibit, not it. The animal bowed its head, revealing fangs that looked more like blades. A thought flashed inside me: how many of these monsters could be unleashed on an enemy?
Stepping away from the display case, I found myself in front of the entrance to a workshop that advertised "customized combat solutions". Outside the door, huge exoskeletons could be seen. One stood on a pedestal, its armor covered in laser weapon marks and dents in the metal hinted at stories from the past.
"This beast has survived seven operations in an active combat zone," a holographic plaque explained.
I stepped inside. The workshop space was unexpectedly spacious. The walls were hung with blueprints, schematics, and photos of happy customers in their new "shells." The workers, cyborgs with four arms, were hastily assembling modifications. The foreman, a man with an optical interface instead of eyes, noticed me and came closer.
- Interested? - His voice was calm, professional, but cold.
- Perhaps. What can you offer?
- It all depends on your goals, - he nodded toward a long row of exoskeletons. - Do you want to destroy, protect, or intimidate? We have solutions for everything.
I grinned. The answer sounded cliched, but wasn't that the point of these places? After a short dialog, I decided not to waste my time shopping here, but I remembered his words:
"If you decide to come back, we're always here. For those who know what they want."
Outside, I was greeted by a new flood of advertisements. Holograms hung in the air, following passersby, offering loans, services, and access to "exclusive content." At the far end of the street, several children were playing with small drones. Their movements were so fast that it was hard to keep track of them.
But despite all this splendor, there were signs of the usual clutter. On one of the benches nearby sat a couple covered in cloaks, trying to hide from the attention. Their faces betrayed fatigue and their eyes betrayed underlying anxiety. An unusual element for the upper levels, but even here, as it turned out, the dirt from below sometimes shone through.
As I watched, a vehicle drove down the street, shouting news as it went by.
- Sector G-9 has been declared a quarantine zone. Do not approach without official authorization!
None of the locals even turned their heads, as if it was just another line in an endless stream of routine.
I continued on my way. The upper levels were something of a showcase for the hive city, its grand facade. But even here, in this world of glitz and technology, I saw shadows. This place was huge, multi-layered, and I was going to have to not only get used to it, but find ways to climb even higher.
In the meantime... for now, I could afford to play the role of a casual observer. But not for long.
But first, I'd have to move Eridian closer to me, because I wasn't going to carry everything on my back.
***
I stood in front of a huge display case in the biomechanical center, where scanners projected 3D images of goods rotating through space. Inside the displays were images that would drive any scientist crazy: prototypes of augmentations that changed reaction speed, limb strength, cognitive function. But I looked at it with a different interest. I needed more than enhancement. I needed the tools to create.
Behind me, in shipping containers, rested the remains of Alpha and his fallen kin. Frozen in the ice of death, they were more than just trophies-they were building blocks. Raw materials. Their flesh, torn apart by brute force and scorched by my weapons, seemed to me the perfect foundation for a new life form. Monsters? No. They would be the first bricks in the foundation of my first great idea: a chimerical fusion of biology and technology.
I stepped inside the center. The place was cold, not physically cold, but the pure, sterile cold of a science lab. Translucent tanks lined the walls, filled with shimmering biogel. Tissues drifted in them, alive and pulsing, as if separated from their masters but still eager to be useful. I saw nerve nets wrapped around mechanical skeletons and organs growing in artificial wombs.
- Welcome to the biomechanical center, - came a voice. An android consultant stood in front of me. His body was so perfect that, if it weren't for his slightly too smooth movements, he could have been mistaken for a human. - What can I do for you?
- I need a lab. As well equipped as possible to handle large biological objects, - I said, barely concealing my impatience. - As well as augmentations and biomaterials for experiments.
The android's eyes lit up with a soft blue light.
- We can offer many solutions. Please specify: are you interested in prototypes, commercial samples, or...? - he paused looking at my new card at chest, - materials with special access?
- Anything suitable for creating connective tissue, enhancing large organisms, and-- experiments that go beyond standard norms.
The android processed the request instantly, and I followed it to a separate section. There were no typical display cases here, just thick glass panels behind which items not intended for the general public could be seen. Mechanical manipulators with laser modules, hybrid limbs with liquid-metal coatings, neural matrices for integrating biological and mechanical systems.
- All of these are exclusive developments. We also have a collection of tissue samples collected on forbidden worlds, - the android added.
- Forbidden? - I specified, hiding interest behind a mask of indifference.
- Of course, officially we comply with all regulations, - he replied with a slight tilt of his head. - But access to some materials requires signing a nondisclosure agreement.
I grinned.
- Okay. I want anything suitable for integration into large bodies. Add to that chemical growth catalysts and DNA stabilizers.
The android handed me a tablet on which the points of agreement were flashing. As I signed the documents, my imagination was already painting an image of what would be created as a result.
A few minutes later, I was standing in front of the door of the lab, deep down at the bottom of the complex. It was quiet, but that cold, sterile air promised me absolute freedom. Inside, the lab resembled a temple dedicated to science.
Tall glass flasks connected by a network of tubes shimmered with the light of the biogel. Massive metal tables held instruments ranging from simple scalpels to complex manipulators.
I shifted my gaze to the containers containing Alpha's remains. They had been removed and placed in airtight tanks. The flesh, now lifeless, seemed dormant, but I saw potential in it.
I disconnected some wires from the armor and connected them to the lab, giving Eridian access to the lab's systems.
- Prepare samples, - I said, turning to the AI. - I need tissue ready for integration.
Eridian responded. The machines began to work: manipulators extracted tissue fragments, bioprinters were connected. I watched as flesh and technology began their dance symphony.
This was only the beginning. In a few hours, a process would begin here that would create a creature unlike anything seen so far.
***
The procedures were completed in the dead of night. Or perhaps it was morning. In the hive, it was hard to tell when day was changing to night. The light of the sun had been replaced by the soft, cold glow of the lab lamps, and my body burned with fatigue, probably psychological, but my mind rejoiced.
In front of me, in a sealed capsule, lay the result of my first day of work. A hybrid of the flesh and technology I had just integrated. It wasn't just a creature, it was a statement.
Despite my meager knowledge of biology, I had still read, "Organic and Flesh Manipulation for Dummies", which gave me some idea of how to operate on such creatures. Eridian's help was invaluable, not only did he do all the monotonous work, but he also performed all the complicated manipulations and procedures, while explaining everything several times in practice. The best teacher possible.
I looked at the capsule. Immobile, immersed in biogel, it seemed calm. But that was a deceptive impression. Soon I would activate it. But not today.
I wiped the blood off my gloves and exhaled, feeling gravity return to my limbs. The entire day spent on modifications had given me not only the knowledge of how to fuse flesh and metal, but also the clarity of the next step.
While my hybrid slept in its liquid cocoon, I had to think about the other component of my power.
When I left the biomechanical center, the day was already winding down, but the work was just beginning. A stream of thoughts about how to assemble my army from individual mechanisms and technologies pulled me forward, from one corporation to another.
After paying for the mechanisms, samples, reagents, and lab rent (which totaled 3 million enas), I left the building. The cold hive air touched my skin, awakening a sense of contentment. The containers of remaining materials were sealed and sent back to my module.
Hundreds of advertisements flashed down the street, calling for new purchases, new opportunities.
"Gorin's Combat Automatas" read the sign above the window, accompanied by the company's emblem: a stylized gorilla with four arms clutching a grenade launcher each.
I stepped inside.
The salesroom was completely different from the sterile pavilions of the upper levels. There was a stark, utilitarian atmosphere. Holographic images of combat vehicles hung on the walls, from compact reconnaissance drones to giant walking tanks. In the center of the room stood a model, a demonstration piece of a combat android. Its body was covered with armored plates, and its eyes-lenses glowed with a blood-red light.
I was greeted by a salesman. He was about three meters tall, with four powerful arms covered in short gray hair. His voice was low and vibrating, like a growl.
- Welcome to our center. Are you looking for something specific?
- I need a sample of each of your combat vehicles. The best fighting machines you can make. Destruction of large targets, ground support, defense. It all needs to be in the arsenal.
His eyes lit up with interest. He took a step closer, tilting his head.
- This is not an easy request. Do you wish to study our technology? Or do you wish to test them?
- Test it, - I answered without hesitation. - I also want to see the range of additional equipment. In combat, it's not just about power, it's about surprise. I want the machines to be able to kill the enemy before he realizes he's under attack.
The gorilla salesman scratched his chin thoughtfully with his lower left hand, and activated a panel with a holographic interface with his upper hand.
- We can customize combat vehicles to your requirements, - he said, pointing to the models. - But we'll need data: your targets, your operating conditions, even your tactics.
- I need the vehicles to be loaded with combat knowledge. But beyond the machines, I need control modules. I don't just want units, I want absolute control over them.
He hummed, obviously impressed.
- It's possible. But there will be a price to pay.
- Money is not a problem.
We made a deal. For only five million, I'll have over a hundred types of combat equipment and robots at my disposal, which will arrive at the rented warehouse in an hour.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone