Neon Hearts

– Sorry,» he mumbled as Dash continued to swivel her multi-coloured cyber-eyes in different directions, creating a hypnotic effect like a kaleidoscope.

By this time Nova had already managed to tidy herself up, her dress taking on a more conservative look as she adjusted to the situation. She adjusted the fabric on her firm young thighs, and her blond hair framed her face with delicate features. When she heard Faza about to leave, she shouted, her voice, amplified by the room’s speaker system, echoing around the room:

– Faza, Faza, wait! Don’t run away! I’m ready!

Nova turned to Dash with a smile as she put the finishing touches to the video-mirror, which obligingly highlighted the most favourable features of her face and suggested make-up options:

– Why are you scaring Fazi? He is a reserved man, not used to your weirdness. – In her voice you could hear notes of both irritation and amusement at the same time.

Dash, still looking at herself in the mirror, which obligingly offered various options for lip reduction, mumbled:

– Yeah, he didn’t add a cerebral implant to himself. Why did you have to move to the city centre? You could have found someone as dumb as him in the slums. – Her words, despite the distortion of her giant lips, were drenched in sarcasm.

Nova giggled, the sound of her laughter picked up by the room’s speaker system and scattered with silver bells:

– Oh, things are so mixed up in these corporate cities now, it’s a hell of a mess to know who came from where.

With a wink to Dash, which made her eye flash for a moment with the bluish light of the inbuilt lens, Nova sauntered out into the corridor. Anna had been silently watching the whole time, smiling at her friends’ jokes and tomfoolery.

Nova quickly caught up with Fazu at the end of the corridor, taking him under her arm and grabbing him by the sleeve of his leather jacket, which reacted to his touch by slightly changing the pattern of the backlighting. She laughed out loud, her laughter seeming to make the neon lights of the corridor flicker in time with it:

– Why are you so scared? Dash bought new implants on credit, she’s trying it out to find herself a handsome, strong, wealthy husband. And when you came in, she started fooling around to scare you. And she did! You’re kind of scary. You’re afraid of women, aren’t you? – Her words were half a joke, half a reproach.

They walked down the corridor towards the exit, their footsteps echoing off the walls, creating a bizarre melody. Faza, spreading his arms, which made the dragon on his back seem to spread its wings, excused himself:

– What an idea you’ve come up with! These implants come out new every week. I don’t know what’s on the market. You might walk into a room and there is no longer a human being, but some cyborg octopus. – He grinned nervously, clearly imagining the picture.

Suddenly, the imperious voice of the neural network controlling the entire building sounded in the corridor. The very air seemed to vibrate with the sound:

– Attention! At 00:00, the building will be closed as part of an anti-terror programme in accordance with Corporate Law #17—2913.14, «On NeuroHub Security and Cybercrime Countermeasures». All residents are advised to complete their business and leave public areas before the specified time.

Faze replied loudly without thinking, his voice echoing through the corridors:

– We’re going to a concert!

Neural Net, clearly teasing, her voice taking on a sarcastic tone, parried:

– Well, well, well, to a concert. You’re making citizens out of yourselves again. Maybe you should also go to the theatre? Or a museum? – In the artificial intelligence was clearly heard a fair share of irony.

Laughter could be heard from all the rooms of the NeuroHub. Panels on the walls displayed laughing emoji for a moment before returning to displaying data streams.

Nova, twirling her finger at her temple, a gesture that seemed to activate some sort of implant as her hair changed colour for a moment, whispered:

– Fool, why did you say that? Now the entire NeuroHub is going to laugh at us. – Her whisper, amplified by the acoustics of the corridor, could probably be heard several floors up and down.

And Faza, perplexed, his face expressing genuine incomprehension of the situation, replied:

– But we’re really going to a concert… Is that something bad? – He looked around, as if seeking support from the invisible spectators.

All around them was the life of NeuroHub, this hive of high technology and human passions. Groups of people stood in a spacious hallway with walls displaying pulsing streams of data that seemed to be the living embodiment of the digital world. Their conversations blended into a bizarre cacophony, augmented by the sound effects of numerous gadgets and implants.

Some were passionately discussing the latest corporate news, their hands drawing graphs and charts in the air, visible only through AR-lenses. A couple in the corner was flirting, exchanging virtual gifts via neural interfaces – the air around them sparkled with digital hearts and flowers invisible to the eye.

People walked past in outfits with inbuilt displays showing their mood and social media status. The dresses changed colour and pattern, adjusting to the wearer’s mood and the surrounding environment, creating the impression of a living, breathing work of art.

In the corner of the hall, a group of teenagers were playing an AR game. Their movements, chaotic to the uninitiated observer, were actually part of a complex virtual dance in which they were battling digital monsters visible only through their AR glasses.

Office workers crowded around the lifts, their eyes glowing with neon light – a clear sign of active work with virtual screens. They continued meetings and negotiations even when they left their desks, their consciousness divided between the physical world and the streams of corporate data.

This world lived to the rhythm of cyberpunk – technology permeating every aspect of life, neon lights reflecting in chrome implants, and a constant stream of information flowing through invisible channels. The air seemed electrified by the amount of data and emotion being transmitted.

Chapter 2

At the same time, in one of the modest rooms of the same skyscraper, Dash was reclining. This young girl, the same age as Nova and Anna, barely past her twentieth birthday, was the living embodiment of beauty.

Her slender, supple body, almost completely naked, was studded with tiny bioluminescent tattoos that shimmered in the semi-darkness of the room in all the colours of the rainbow. These tattoos created using nanotechnology. The girl’s black-blonde hair, able to change colour at will thanks to nanorobots implanted in the roots of her hair, now cascaded luxuriously over her shoulders, creating a bizarre contrast with her skin.

Dash played carelessly with her neural implants, light, almost imperceptible movements of her fingers activating and deactivating various functions. Suddenly, the silence of the room was broken by a melodious ringing sound that seemed to be right inside Dash’s head. The girl’s heart raced – she instantly recognised the special signal assigned to one of her many suitors. For a split second her pupils dilated as the recognition system identified the caller.

Taking in a full chest of air and mentally activating the implant responsible for modulating her voice, Dash tried to make her tone as seductive as possible. Her voice, low and velvety, as if enveloping the space, filled the room:

– Yes? I’m listening,» she said, stretching her words and adding a slight huskiness to her tone.

– Who? Vadik? – she thought for a moment, her eyes moving quickly as if reading an invisible text as she went through a long list of admirers in her enhanced memory. – Ah, Vadik! Of course I remember you, darling. How could I forget your enchanting voice?

Dash stretched gracefully, arching her back and showing off her perfect body as if to an invisible interlocutor. She cast a quick, sly glance at Anna, who was watching the conversation from her corner of the room with undisguised interest and a slight chuckle.

– What NeuroHub? – Dash giggled nervously, her fingers beginning to rapidly run through a strand of hair, changing its colour from black and blue to a deep, mysterious purple. – Ah, that… That’s our flighty neural network messing around again. Imagine, we’ve got relatives travelling all the way from the Far East, from the Eastern New Dynasty. And now this cyber-joker is calling our humble mansion a mirohab. You should see how many people live here now!

Dash tried to speak both cheerfully and seductively, her voice rising to a playful note or dropping to an intimate whisper. She hoped that Vadim on the other end of the quantum communication line would believe her improvised explanation.

– Yes, yes,“ she continued, rolling her eyes and casting an expressive glance at Anna, „everyone seems to have gone mad, coming and going, as if our flat were rubber. Listen, darling,“ her voice became apologetic, „I can’t meet you today – my grandmother has a grand holiday, an anniversary, you know. Maybe tomorrow? – she paused, as if remembering something. – Oh, it completely slipped my mind, I’ll be at the institute all day, I’m taking a term paper. You know what? I’ll call you as soon as I’m free, okay? I promise we’ll meet up. Bye, kisses.

Having finished the call, Dash turned sharply to Anna, who was no longer hiding her amusement, covering her mouth with her hand so as not to laugh out loud.

– No, can you imagine? – Dash hissed, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of irritation and amusement. – That damn neural network, be damned, answering the phone and claiming it’s some kind of NeuroHub! Couldn’t they have programmed something a little more… sophisticated? «Residence», «penthouse», at least «palace»! But no, she has to make us look like some sort of… communal dwellers!

Suddenly the disembodied, neural network voice, as if it had appeared out of thin air, sounded first in the corridor, and then, as if following its echo, moved directly into the room:

– I apologise for the intrusion, but how exactly would you prefer me to answer incoming calls? I’m open to suggestions and ready to be reprogrammed according to your wishes.

Dash, still seething with indignation, mumbled, ducking her face into the pillow:

– I don’t know, think of something decent! «Neuro Palace», «Cyber Residence», «Quantum Mansion» – anything but this derogatory «NeuroHub»!

NeuralNet, after a pause, as if considering what she had heard, replied nonchalantly:

– I have recorded your wish and made the appropriate adjustments to the database. However, I must warn you that I cannot guarantee one hundred per cent compliance with this directive, given the security and privacy priorities set by the corporate owner of the building.

Anna, who had been watching the scene unfold all this time, could no longer contain her laughter. Her eyes sparkled with unconcealed pleasure.

– Oh, Dash,“ she said through her laughter, wiping away her tears, „you are simply inimitable. How do you manage to juggle all these suitors and not get tangled up in your own stories? It’s a real art!

Dash, who at first pouted her lips in feigned offence, couldn’t keep a serious expression for long. A mischievous light flashed in her eyes, which were equipped with microscopic lenses that allowed her to change the colour of the iris at will.

– It’s not just art, my dear,» she said with feigned importance, rising from the bed and stretching gracefully. – It’s the highest form of social programming. A little natural talent, a pinch of neuro-enhancement, and voila – you are the queen of the virtual and real worlds at the same time! And why am I sitting naked? We should get going.

In the sweltering heat of the summer evening, the streets of the neon Cyber-City were bustling with life, like a giant, tirelessly working anthill of the future. Anna and Dash, two graceful women, walked arm in arm, their high heels beating a clear, hypnotising rhythm on the pavement, reflecting the light of the many neon signs. Their figures, as if sculpted from flesh by a skilful sculptor, attracted the gazes of passers-by, making men look at them with long, full of unconcealed admiration.

The street was bustling with people who had just been released from a hard day’s work in the offices of mega-corporations and technology factories. Men flaunted cheap suits with inserts that changed pattern depending on the light and the mood of the wearer. The women shone in dresses woven from liquid metal, shimmering in all the colours of the rainbow to match their emotions. Firm hips, chiselled figures – in a world where implants could change almost anything, beauty was almost accessible.

The friends were moving leisurely through the lively, pulsing stream of walkers when an unusual sight caught their attention. A small crowd, mottled with brightly coloured outfits and shiny implants, gathered around a man reciting poetry. But this was no ordinary poet – his words, inspired by the immortal Shakespeare, were skilfully intertwined with the realities of their time, creating a bizarre symbiosis of the classics and futurism. Next to him, as if in a mesmerising dance, small, almost invisible quadrocopters circled, creating intricate fiery patterns in the air, emphasising each stanza and giving the poet’s words an almost tangible form.

– I don’t understand what he’s saying,» Dash muttered, slowing down for a second and furrowing her perfectly shaped brow. – What’s bothering him so much? Does our world still have problems for poetry?

Anna only shrugged, her eyes reflecting for a moment the glint of a courier drone flying by:

– Maybe it was the lack of problems that was the main problem? – She remarked philosophically, and the girls moved on, joining the motley, noisy crowd. But the problems remained. Conflicts, hungry all over the world. A lack of love.

The streets pulsed with life like the arteries of a gigantic metropolis. Autonomous taxis, resembling predatory fish from the depths of the ocean, glided silently through the sea of people, manoeuvring between pedestrians with filigree precision. Quadrocopters of all shapes and sizes flew overhead, delivering parcels of food and goods directly to customers’ doors, their propellers creating a light, almost inaudible background hum. Billboards flashed everywhere, inviting people to try the latest synthetic delicacies that promised incredible taste sensations, or to take exotic journeys to orbital stations or underwater cities.

– I can’t take it anymore,» Dash almost moaned, her voice sounding tired and irritated, contrasting with the brightness and energy of the world around her. – To spend five years at university, cramming in outdated theories, and then slave away at a corporate factory for a measly two thousand credits? No, no, no, no, no, no. I wasn’t born into this age of opportunity.

Anna nodded sympathetically, her eyes clouded for a moment, as if she were remembering something from her past:

– Nova’s life isn’t easy, she’s always lost in her lab, nor I with my endless meetings and reports. And now you…

– And what is life then? – Anna sighed, her gaze involuntarily stopped on another couple in love, selflessly kissing at the shop window, selling cheap models of neurointerfaces. – Is this really all we are capable of in a world of endless possibilities?

Youth was boiling around them – young men and women were hugging, laughing, living their lives as if they didn’t notice anyone around them. Their eyes, often augmented with cybernetic implants, shone with happiness and carefree spirit.

Passing by the huge, full-wall advertising screens, the girls involuntarily admired dancing robots and people with implants, whose movements were so perfect and synchronised that they seemed unreal. They advertised the latest cybernetic improvements promising to increase brain performance tenfold, or exotic tours to the restored Amazon jungle or to the soaring mountains of the Eastern New Dynasty, where ancient Chinese traditions were intricately intertwined with the latest technology.

– Science is boring,» Dash continued to complain, her voice sounding whimsical, like a spoilt child. – Who needs this chemistry? Only formulas, molecules, reactions… As if we were still living in the last century and hadn’t invented nanorobots capable of synthesising any substance.

The girls walked gracefully swaying their hips, their dresses, as if they were living creatures, tightened around their young, taut bodies, becoming almost transparent, or becoming deep, rich colour, attracting admiring glances of passers-by. Anna stopped suddenly, raising her hand in a protesting gesture, her eyes lighting up with an almost fanatical gleam:

– No, you don’t understand anything! Chemistry and science are not just formulas, they are the future of mankind! It is because of science that we live in this marvellous world. And who knows what other wonders it will give us?

Dash wrinkled her perfect nose as if she had heard something unpleasant:

– I don’t want to think about the future. I need the here and now. What’s the point of this endless research if we already live in a world our ancestors could only dream of?

At that moment, a motorbike, more like a futuristic beast than a vehicle, rumbled past them with a mighty roar. Its streamlined shape shimmered in the neon lights, and its wheels seemed to barely touch the ground. Sitting behind the driver, a guy with slicked-back black hair and cyber-brows that shimmered with blue light shouted, overlapping the noise of the engine:

– Hey, hotties! How about a ride? I promise it won’t be boring!

Dash, unexpectedly to her friends, shouted menacingly, her voice suddenly hard and commanding:

– «Go-get out of here before I call the police drones!

Nova raised her eyebrows in surprise, her eyes widening in surprise:

– Why are you like this? They seem like normal guys. Maybe this is your chance to break out of the routine you were just complaining about?

– Regular guys,» Dash snorted, her lips curling contemptuously. – You think I want to ride a motorbike? It’s not a big deal. We need serious men, not boys with fancy toys.

Anna couldn’t stand it and laughed, her laughter sounding louder than she expected, making several passers-by turn round:

– What do you want? Marry the king of cyber city? You don’t like that man, the one on the motorbike doesn’t fit, the one with the red socks… You’re the queen! Maybe you should order a personal android to fulfil all your requirements?

The girls laughed together, their resounding laughter dissolving into the multivoiced hum of the evening city, full of neon lights.

On a warm summer evening, the city was transformed, enveloped in a shimmering neon glow. The majestic building of the Cosmos cinema glittered with thousands of multi-coloured lights like a giant kaleidoscope. A multifaceted crowd, resembling a living sea of people, swarmed around it.

To the front entrance, decorated with exquisite ribbons, snaked a bright red path, like a river of molten ruby. On it, as if on a magic bridge between reality and the world of dreams, the stars of inter-corporate cinema were moving smoothly. The air was ringing with enthusiastic shouts and deafening applause, creating a unique symphony of celebration.

Anna and her inseparable friend Dash stood in the very epicentre of this human maelstrom, breathless with excitement and anticipation. Their eyes, wide open with amazement, shone brighter than any neon signs, reflecting the glitter and splendour of the posters. All around them, a vast sea of hands – animate, cybernetic – swarmed around them, applauding the passing celebrities with such fervour as if the fate of the universe depended on that applause.

– Anna! Anna!» Dash suddenly exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. She tugged her friend sharply by the sleeve of her dress, shimmering in time with her heartbeat. – Look! It’s him! Konyukhov himself!

Anna, holding her breath, followed her friend’s gaze. On a wide marble staircase, surrounded by an impressive retinue of assistants and bodyguards in strict suits, Konyukhov – the idol of millions, the unrivalled star of holo-vision, whose face adorned half the skyscrapers of Cyber-City – was majestically ascending.

– Ah!» Dash exhaled, clasping her hands to her chest as if she were trying to keep her heart from jumping out. – I adore him so much! He’s unbelievable!

Men in elegant business suits woven from smart nanofibres floated past them as if they had stepped off the covers of fashion magazines. These marvels of techno-fashion changed their colour and texture depending on the mood of the wearer, creating a unique visual effect. Women shone in evening dresses made of liquid metal, which flowed around their figures like a living, sensual second skin, reflecting the light of neon lights and creating the illusion that the stars themselves had descended to earth. On the shoulders of many of them were luxurious fur capes – true masterpieces of bioengineering, capable of changing colour at the slightest wish of the mistress, creating unique patterns and shades.

Dash, unable to contain her emotions, hugged Anna tightly by the shoulders and, trying to outshout the multivoiced rumble of the crowd, whispered in her ear, her voice trembling with excitement:

– This is the life, Anh! Look at this! This is the way to live! What splendour, what glamour!

Anna clapped her hands enthusiastically in response, her eyes shining like two bright stars:

– Look! Look! – she exclaimed, pointing with a graceful gesture. – Yumatov himself is coming!

Yumatov, who was passing by, surrounded by a flock of enthusiastic admirers in sparkling outfits, suddenly stopped, his gaze instantly picked out a familiar face from the crowd. He saw a young man standing next to Anna and Dash, who clearly felt out of place among this splendour.

– Why are you standing there, mate? – asked Yumatov easily overlapped the noise of the crowd. – Couldn’t you get through?

The young man, visibly embarrassed under the stares of others, nervously ran his hand through his hair and answered, trying to speak confidently:

– A friend of mine was supposed to bring the pass, but she’s been delayed. I don’t know why. Maybe there’s a problem with the security system?

Yumatov shook his head, his face expressing a mixture of surprise and slight displeasure:

«– So you should have called me, you weirdo! – he exclaimed, clapping the young man on the shoulder. – I would have sorted it out in no time, let everyone in. Well, don’t worry, I’ll make arrangements with the guards.

With these words Yumatov, flashing a white-toothed smile in the direction of admiring fans, moved further down the red carpet, leaving behind him a trail of enthusiastic sighs and whispers.

Dash, excited by her proximity to the stars and eager to make new acquaintances, immediately turned to the remaining young man. Her eyes burned with curiosity and her voice trembled with barely restrained excitement:

«– And you’re an artiste too, aren’t you? – She asked, playing with her eyebrows coquettishly and tilting her head slightly to get a better look at the stranger.

– Yes, a beginner,» he replied with a slight smile, a mixture of pride and embarrassment.

Dash, unable to contain her enthusiasm, jumped up to him, almost knocking down the people standing nearby. Her movements were sharp and choppy, like a child seeing her favourite toy:

– Congratulations! Congratulations! – she ranted, the words flying out of her mouth at the speed of a machine-gun burst. – That’s just terrific! What’s your last name? What projects have you worked on so far? Oh, and of course, how can you be found on social media? Do you have a page on NeuroSphere?

The young man, obviously unaccustomed to such a barrage of attention, rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. His face reflected a whole range of emotions – from surprise to slight confusion:

– I’m-I’m just starting out in this world,» he said, trying to find the right words. – My last name probably doesn’t tell you anything. I haven’t been involved in any big projects yet.

But Dash wasn’t going to back down. She playfully swayed her hips, covered with a shimmering dress, trying to arouse the young man’s sympathy and get him to talk more frankly: