Free Sample
Preview from chapter one
Morning begins not with an alarm clock, but with a shift in the light spectrum. The ceiling mimics a soft dawn, yet the room instantly turns cramped.
Right in the middle of the bedroom — in the narrow passage between the bed and the door — blooms a dense, faintly humming column of bluish holographic light. The projection does not hang on a wall somewhere; it floods the entire living space. Avoiding it is impossible: to get out of bed, Ionica would have to step directly into this cloud of pixels.
"Good morning, Ionica. CURRENT BIOMETRIC METRICS: CORTISOL — 82% (ELEVATED), OXYTOCIN — 11% (CRITICAL DEFICIT). Recommendation: somatic correction."
The voice of the "Architect" sounds from everywhere—velvety, relaxing, tuned to a mathematically calculated frequency. In the center of the hologram, right before her face, blinks a pulsing blue marker:
[PARCEL DELIVERED: Somatic Recovery Medical Module]
Hold gaze on the marker to view details.
Ionica sighs. The interactive, semi-transparent cloud tracks the movement of her pupils. She cannot simply look away: until the system's conditions are met, the holographic dam will not burst, and the room’s lighting will not switch to standard household mode.
She holds her gaze on the blue dot. Two seconds.
The hologram unfolds with the sound of a releasing spring, breaking apart into semi-transparent charts and text:
"Based on your productivity report for last month, the 'Architect' AI complex has approved a personal 90% subsidy for the basic ASTRALATEX™ (Model v4.0) kit. Lack of oxytocin response reduces bio-efficiency by 18%. Under the state health program, you are prescribed a course of neuromuscular discharge. To activate ownership rights, hold gaze on the 'SIGN CONTRACT' button."
Ionica looks at the key frozen in midair. No papers, no pens — one locked pupil, and a legal fact is registered. To refuse means automatically receiving a "destructive behavior" tag and a reduction in next week's food ration.
She focuses her gaze.
The hologram's blue light gives way to a brief green pulse. "Contract signed. Device transferred to your ownership. The courier bot has left the container in the intake airlock. A session is recommended within 360 minutes to avoid mandatory anxiolytic administration."
Ionica sighed and sat up on the bed.
The world around had long forgotten what natural emotions were. After the Third Global War and the subsequent viral mutation known as "Syndrome Y," the planet's male population was wiped out by ninety-eight percent. The surviving carriers of the Y-chromosome turned into an extremely rare, incapacitated genetic resource. They were consumed by autoimmune degradation, while the remaining few were impounded by the state and locked away in the sterile underground complexes of "Reproduction-1." Men became a closed bio-fund for artificial insemination, far out of reach for ordinary women.