FAULT ; ARTIFACT
FAULT ; ARTIFACT
Author: SHANAYA
ONE

A huge game complex-bar floated by. Here you can have a drink, and a striptease watch, and there is a game room, both with gambling and with old billiards. It's the day, so it's closed for now.

The residential mega complex has moved, overhanging: huge, mighty, reaching to the lead clouds that block the light of the sun, lowering a shadow on the city, turning the surrounding space into a picture drawn with a simple pencil. Only neon signs of various establishments, clubs, tattoo parlors, small implant clinics and small shops dilute this gray picture with paints.

The door opened with a hiss, letting us into the spacious hall. Ahead you can see the stairs leading to the next floor, on the right there are dozens of elevators. In this residential mega complex there are a thousand floors and each has a hundred apartments. In fact, a small town located in one building. The most interesting thing is that the entrance to it is not only on the first floor. There is an exit from higher transport routes to both the fiftieth and hundredth floors. On the five-hundredth floor there are also: a large retail chain, a second parking lot, a hospital complex. Everything is the same, but more prestigious and expensive is on the seven hundred and fiftieth floor. In general, the higher the floor, the more expensive the apartment. There, on the high floors, there are elite clubs with all kinds of service, which is several orders of magnitude higher than what is here - on the first floors and around the complex.

I live on the three-hundredth floor – not the poorest, but also far from the rich. In general, I somehow thought about my own transport, but as I calculated what time it would cost to rent a parking lot, the cost of electricity to charge the engine and maintenance in the event of a breakdown - I immediately refused. Paying a third of my salary a month for a car that I will drive from and to work at most is not worth it. It is better to use a capsule - faster and cheaper.

My arm was. I looked at the tight strap on my arm. Above it appeared a holographic image of a blue screen, in the center of which a letter icon flashes.

"Open it," I ordered.

I could just poke my finger, but I use this function when I'm drunk and I can't connect words with my tongue. The icon disappeared, and instead of it, numbers appeared on the screen.

You have received 300 daily unemployment benefit credits in your account.

- Turn off.

The screen disappeared and I headed for the elevators. It's like that. Today is the first day I am officially unemployed. Two days ago I worked in a garbage factory on sorting, but I was replaced by an autonomous robotic complex. Yesterday was the last working day. And now I am unemployed, as well as almost thirty percent of the population of the supercity of Asia-1, which starts from the Caspian Sea and ends at the Gobi Desert. About two billion people live in the supercity.

In general, more and more people are becoming unemployed, but thanks to benefits, they can somehow make ends meet. If you think about it, this allowance, of three hundred credits, is not so small, given that for an eight-hour working day I received five hundred credits. And if you subtract fifty credits for a round trip, it turns out that my income has fallen by a third, but now there is no need to rush anywhere. Sometimes the idea creeps in that it is easier for corporations to pay unemployment benefits to unskilled workers than to keep them in enterprises. For the same robotic complex replaced a dozen sorters at once, not to mention the fact that it works without breaks day and night, does not get tired and does not strike, demanding higher wages or better working conditions.

As the elevator went up the three-hundredth floor, I kept remembering Alex's words. I even tried to call him, but instead of him, an automated smart apartment management complex replied in a cute female voice that Alex is now working and cannot answer. Some corporations have a good job – they can even work at home.

A thought flashed through whether to go to Alex on the eight hundred and ninetieth floor, but quickly threw it away. Most likely, the security will not even let you out of the elevator. Who would believe that a guy dressed in a cheap jacket and pants has a friend on this floor?

The elevator doors opened, letting them out into a long hallway. On the right and left, the doors of the apartments slowly floated. Stopping in front of one with the number thirty thousand nineteen, I touched a small plate. A blue beam scanned me, there was a slight ringing, and the door went to the side. A small room appeared to the eye.

My apartment is cramped - the main room is only nine square meters, on the left is the entrance to the bathroom, where they pressed each other like wet puppies shower, toilet and washbasin, on the right is the passage to a small kitchen, a good part of which is occupied by a refrigerator. The room is empty, the main piece of furniture in it is a wide sofa, which can be transformed into a bed. On the wall opposite him appeared an image of a small studio, at the table sits a pretty announcer with poisonous green hair and piercing blue eyes.

- Today there was another clash with the gangs of two residential complexes Altai-8 and Altai-9, - the TV presenter of the news quickly began to tarator.

An image from drones appeared on the screen. On the lower floors of residential complexes, flashes are visible, tracers draw darkness. These two residential complexes are located a hundred meters from each other and the constant shootouts between them have become almost a daily domestic incident. You look at it not as a gang fight, but as if it were some kind of reality show. A rocket fired from a grenade launcher flew out. Flash, black smoke and shards of glass falling to the ground.

I stepped into the room, neon lamps lit under the ceiling, illuminating the room with a white cold light. Another sign of poverty of an apartment is its location in the depths of the complex. Those apartments that are located at the edges are larger and have wide viewing windows. I only have a big stone box.

At the far wall, opposite the door, there is a virtapsula: small, shabby, in the cheapest configuration. There is no advanced assistant, no status tracking system and many other bells and whistles. In general, a long stay in the virtupsule greatly loads the brain and after eight to ten hours the head just splits. The assistant, as you can guess from the name, helps the brain to process the flow of information and thereby reduces the load. So a person can be in such a capsule for fifteen hours. The medical complex supplies nutrients through the blood, and also monitors the condition. Only these two bells and whistles allow you to stay in the virtupsule for twenty-four hours, then a break for a short four-hour sleep and a full meal, and you can again stay in it for twenty-four hours. But this is not all the chips of expensive capsules, but I can only dream about them.

The image of the studio reappeared on the screen.

"The police have already arrived at the scene and are restoring order," the announcer continued.

I muffled the sound, walked up to the wall next to the couch, part of it moved inland and went to the side, revealing a small recess with hangers and a shelf for boots.

"Lunch," I commanded undressed.

The auto system immediately buzzed. Now fast food is moved from the refrigerator to a small oven. So in a couple of minutes you can enjoy pasta with a small cutlet of cloned meat.

The bracelet on his arm vibrated slightly. I glanced at the number of the channel from which the call was coming. Frost ran through my skin, and sweat appeared on my forehead. No, I understand that it was naïve to expect Yuji to forget about me at least for today, but he wouldn't be himself if he had a bad memory.

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