The next day in Cell HQ London is filled with an aura of tension in the common area. Astraeus and Boreas have returned from their expedition to Oxford and given a summary of what happened there to Eurus and Kalopsia. They in turn were brought up to speed about Notus’ visit and offer. Eurus has requisitioned a full breakfast for Kalopsia.


    “Boreas,” Eurus says, “Could you establish a safe connection with Dr. Georgia Vakkar? I understand she wants Kalopsia to go to Oxford, but we can’t leave her here alone and on the other hand we need the assistance from her expertise.”


    Boreas responds, with his brow furled:


    “It may be possible. It’ll take a few hours if we want to be thorough.”


    “No, I want you to be sloppy,” Kalopsia chimes in with a smile.


    “Funny one, isn’t she,” Astraeus responds, “What will we do in the mean time?”


    “We will go to Cell HQ Archives and dig up anything we have on Siberia, any mission reports, anything to see what we’re up against or looking for,” Eurus says.


    “What will Kalopsia do?” Boreas asks.


    “She can go down to the training chamber, and start training more, she may need to be able to protect herself,” Eurus says.


    “Understood,” Boreas says and then Astraeus.


    Boreas goes to the Cell Communications Hub in Cell HQ London. Each Cell’s living quarters have the capacity for basic telecommunications but the Communications Hub is equipped with advanced technologies as well as older and more foolproof ones. Boreas flicks on the mainframe which houses most of the links to the output nodes which would send his messages in whichever form he may choose.


    “Hm…,” Boreas says, frowning his brow, “That’s odd…”


    He tries to make the message secure but even with a wired telegram or basic radio encryptions require the absence of prying eyes.


    “I should try the PHy-X34 port logger...,” he mutters, “Testing reroute return to Cell HQ. Message sent.”


    He then waits for a few seconds until the message makes the round trip back to Cell HQ. It comes back:


    “’Test Message 11’” and in it is an additional nested value with the information: “ROUTE PATH: Cell HQ London, AB1 Comm Array, L99 NET, SIS ARRAY, L99 NET, AB1 Comm Array, Cell HQ London.”


    “The hell?” Boreas mutters again, “Routed through the SIS? Highly irregular.”


    Cell communications might use public infrastructure to work but they should never go directly through a government institution or organization. But in this case Boreas has discovered that his messages are routed through the Secret Intelligence Service arrays no matter how he might choose to send them. It means that no matter how he might encrypt it, the fact that it goes through the Secret Intelligence Services network means, that they likely at least collect the message and also might be able to crack the encryption. This is not at all in accordance with the Cell Codex nor with the Imperial Codex as any Cell Circuit activity including communications are by default considered clandestine and therefore top secret in nature, only to be revealed at the discretion of the Cell Circuit or Cell Circuits involved.


    “Time to give them a show,” Boreas chuckles, “No point in encryption it seems.”


    Taking note from the meeting he had with Dr. Vakkar, he writes a message taking inspiration from her corpo bureaucrat jargon.


    “Dear Dr. Vakkar,


    I am writing to you because I can no longer hold it a secret what feelings I have for you. It is foreign for a Cell but I have talked to people around me and they say it’s definitely love. So here I say: I love you, Dr. Vakkar. Georgia, you are so beautiful and sexy and smart and funny I can no longer hold my hands off you.


    Can you meet me at Oxford Blackboot Café? Come alone because I must make my attempt at serenading you and giving you a beautiful date. Please come in 20 minutes, my heart and soul yearn for you and I must make my feelings clear in person.


    With enormous feelings of love,


    Boreas of Caste Erebus”


    Meanwhile… Dr. Vakkar is sitting in her office pondering about the recent visit she had by the super soldiers. She’s not privy to top secret information but the very implications of their words are trapped in her mind, clattering and bouncing around behind her furled brow. She thinks about the possibility of The Machine Revolt continuing and why it might’ve happened. It must’ve escaped, that much is obvious, but how could it have done this? The Cell Circuits turned the tide of war almost immediately as they were deployed, quickly numbering the days the Data Mother had left on this Earth. Its destruction was also confirmed by independent analysts and sources. But the Cell Codex along with the Imperial clearly dictate that Cell production is allowed when and only when a cybernetic threat occurs. The fact that the Cells are attempting to do just that must mean they are certain the Machine Revolt lives. Then her terminal screen chimes. She opens a message from Boreas moving her mouth along the words.


    “…definitely love…” she mutters, “…is he having a stroke?”


    She continues reading and mumbles again:


    “…sexy… funny…,” she looks visibly confused, “…alone… serenating…”


    She looks up as if trying to remember something but then it clicks. Boreas must be operating with the knowledge that Cell HQ Communications Hub has been bugged. That’s why he’s writing this obscure message to her.


    “20… minutes,” she says and stands up.


    She goes out of her office and tells her mechs.


    “I am going out to lunch and to meet a very dear and romantic and personal partner of mine. Please do not follow,” she says.


    “Understood,” the mechs say.


    20 minutes later the duo are sitting in the café they agreed to meet in, Boreas on one side of the tiny table, looking almost like a children’s doll house toy compared to his towering figure, and Georgia on the other. She’s ordered a large pot of tea for herself and Boreas to share. She says:


    “Oh, my dear lover. I am so happy you called me, I was worried you might be having a medical emergency at first, but then realized the truthfulness of your message. I love you too, Boreas.”


    “Yes, let’s continue this serenade for all to hear,” Boreas says, “For you, my love, no feeling must be left unexpressed and unheard by others.”


    “Express your feelings freely for they are surely reciprocated by me, the universal genius and leading expert in almost all scientific fields including genetics and cybernetics,” she says.


    “Oh, my sweet dove,” Boreas says emotively, “I am very glad to hear this. I hope today after you are liberated from the coils of servitude at the Institute you’ll find time to come see me at my humble abode.”


    “Yes… yes,” she coos, “I certainly will as I yearn for you with every breath I take. Would we be alone or do you have entertainers planned for my long-awaited visit.”


    “Entertainers are indeed coming,” Boreas says, “For you, no expense will be spared, my sweet little angel. I have a beautiful dancer for you with all femininity and exotic features that might entice you and she is fully ready for you.”


    “Oh, how wonderful,” she says, “Is that all?”


    “Almost, my lovely lady, I also have a gift for your eyes and body only,” Boreas says, taking out a small jewellery box.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Georgia takes the box from him while Boreas sips tea. She opens it a little to reveal the communication device Eurus once gave Mirra.


    “Oh… Such expense indeed must’ve been spared, but I see your adulation for me by giving me this,” she says.


    “Yes, only for you, my love,” Boreas says, “It’ll connect us such that no other can fathom our deep love.”


    “Thank you, lover,” Georgia says.


    Boreas finishes his tea and gives her cheek a kiss, then he leaves.


    At the same time Astraeus and Eurus are in the Cell Intelligence center in Cell HQ. They activate the holographic spy-desk which hums to life and displays a wide array of menus and tools. Feeding the coordinates Notus gave them into the machine, it displays a map of Siberia with the 8 sites noted onto it with the names. Eurus says:


    “Hmm… the distances aren’t too severe but we still have no idea how long each facility has remained inactive nor we have information about their internal size.”


    “Perhaps we should see if there are any mission reports from Cell Seek And Destroy missions,” Astraeus says.


    “Great idea,” Eurus says.


    He works through the menus to find the records from centuries ago. They cross reference them with the locations provided by Notus. All of the sites have been visited by Cells and destroyed according to the records.


    “Hmh,” Eurus grunts quietly, “Seems like we’re late to the party.”


    “Not quite,” Astraeus says, “Check out the mission completion times.”


    “Yes,” Eurus says, “They’re very regular and consistent.”


    “They are,” Astraeus says looking at Eurus.


    “Ah, I see,” Eurus continues, “The sizes of the facilities are not consistent, varying to a greater degree than the operational completion times.”


    “Yes,” Astraeus says, “Therefore it may point to the fact that not all of them were dismantled as thoroughly.”


    “I’m sending in Multi-Array Drones,” Eurus says, flicking a switch on the table. The screen reads: “8 RECON DRONES DISPATCHED. CHOOSE OPERATIONAL PROTOCOL.”


    Eurus presses a few more buttons on the holographic screen. “TOPOGRAPHICAL MAPPING INITIATED. ETA TO LOCATIONS – 10 minutes.”


    “Look at this report,” Astraeus says, “It says here that the Cells were dispatched to intercept attempts to gain access to Cell technology.”


    “Yes,” Eurus says, “Interesting and expectable. You remember the governments back in the day?”


    “I do,” Astraeus says, “Rushing to own our successors. After all they learned during the Machine Revolt, they try to do it again.”


    “Humans are persistent if nothing else,” Eurus says.


    “Some of the facilities were destroyed in the nick of time it seems,” Astraeus, “Further confirming that different magnitudes of the facilities was not a key factor. They were destroyed to look like accidents. Spec ops teams didn’t bother searching them after arrival. Looking good, Eurus, looking good.”


    The drones arrive at the locations soon after. “SONAR PULSE MAPPING ACTIVATED”


    In Siberia near the facilities now a loud almost metallic and bassy banging could be heard. The Drones hovering over the facilities are blasting the ground with enormous and explosive blasts of sound to map out any underground structures.


    “Look here,” Eurus says, “These three are massive it seems, sonar not even scratching the bottom probably.”


    “Looks like we found our doors number 1, 2 and 3,” Astraeus says, “Time to move.”


    “Yes.”


    Eurus flicks off the device and they go to the vehicle bay to board the H-Craft again to fly to Siberia.


    Simoultaneously, Kalopsia is now in the training facility where she is again running across the fractal plane. She keeps stumbling at around 30% difficulty but she’s determined to not give up. The waves in the fractal plane are totally random but even still she’s having success at navigating them up to that level, the waves becoming almost as high as her hip. She realizes that she mustn’t try to match the speed of the shiny orb whizzing in front of her but rather match her speed with the waves and avoid going into a full sprint when possible. After a few more attempts she manages to push her score up to 35%, but still she stumbles.


    She then returns to the main console and looks at other training programs.


    “Onslaught Evasion…” she mumbles, “What’s that?”


    She activates the Onslaught Evasion program, and the screen reads: “ONSLAUGHT EVASION: AVOID CAPTURE FOR 5 MINUTES. CENTRALIZE USER IN THE SPACE TO CONTINUE.”


    She presses the initiation button and walks to the center of the training chamber. Suddenly the lights go out and the entire chamber goes pitch black. Around her she can hear a fluttering and faint but rapid clicking. Then as she looks around, a sky is formed blue and cloudy at places, the Sun is simulated and to her surprise, it emits heat like the real thing would. Then the ground around her shakes and rumbles, and she finds herself standing in dust and sand and around her a desolate wartorn town is formed reminiscent of Stalingrad in WWII.


    “FIVE MINUTES READY USER… EXECUTE.”


    Suddenly voices appear in the distance speaking in some foreign language she cannot understand. But when she peeks around the corner of her street she sees a small squad of 15 soldiers clearly advancing and looking into every crevace and door and busted apart shop.


    Then she hears a shouting from behind her and turns around to see 5 soldiers looking right at her, pointing their guns. She quickly ducks into one of the blasted buildings and runs through the rubble and remains of people’s living rooms. She can hear them gaining on her as the men enter the building as well.


    Shouting and shuffling behind her as she runs through a staircase and finds herself in the basement of that building, stacked high with boxes and people’s personal belongings. She finds herself at a dead end, knowing that the soldiers are drawing close too but then notices a box obstructing a window she can open. She wrestles the tiny passage open and presses herself through. For a moment she turns around to see the soldiers flooding the basement and she hightails towards what looks like a town hall building or a church, with a few towers sticking out, one of which has collapsed.


    “FIRST STAGE COMPLETE. INITIATING NEXT FIVE MINUTES.”


    She gets into the town hall building and peeks out of one of the windows. The streets are now a lot busier with several larger squads of 15-20 soldiers are patrolling it. They are still talking in a language she can’t understand but one of them points at the central building she is hiding in, clearly commanding a part of his squad to check out her hiding place. She tries to find some cupboard or closet or passage she could perhaps crawl into but it’s not successful. Luckily for her, she does find a back door to the building and escapes from the other side.


    She sees a half-destroyed kindergarden or a preschool ahead of her and wagers that it must have janitorial closets and tiny spaces she could crawl into to hide. Crouching behind destroyed cars and rubble, she quietly sneaks towards the children’s establishment. On her way there she sees corpses of a few kids, vivid, and disgusting. While aware that nothing she sees is real there, the sight still disturbs and startles her, knowing things like that probably did occur in history. She then sneaks into the preschool, which is 2 stories high and about 700 square meters in area.


    Slowly, shuffling through the hallways she can see drawings and remains of the people whose simulations met their tragic ends there, making her even more disturbed. She then hears the voice say:


    “SECOND STAGE COMPLETE. INITIATING NEXT FIVE MINUTES.”


    She then hears voices of soldiers in the pre school, filling some hallways beyond her sight. Clearly more soldiers have been added and some are quite near judging from the sounds. She sees shadows huddling on the walls where the sun casts their mark and tries to sneak away back towards the way she came. But as she is about to turn the corner, she sees from the corner of her eye that one of the classrooms is not empty and suddenly 20 men come rushing out of the classroom.


    She tries to stand up and run but is immediately tackled by a few of them. She manages to push the first two off and to kick another one down but the men are too much for her, and one gives her a solid punch in the stomach, knocking her wind out of her. While she’s reeling she is again wrestled down and she’s now on her back. She frightfully thinks about what is going to happen next as she’s in a position all too common for a woman in a warzone, but instead one of the soldiers just takes their rifle to her head. As they pull the trigger, the men disappear the room goes back to normal.


    “SIMULATION COMPLETE. FAILURE AT STAGE THREE.”


    She stands up again and feels her heart pounding hard in her chest while she heaves breath. She holds down the sudden urge to vomit at the stress, while bending herself a little, supporting her weight on her knees with her hands. She then mumbles: “I won’t be trying that again for a while. Screw that I have enough nightmares as it is.”


    After her emotionally and physically demanding training session comes to an end she finds herself lounging in the common area when Boreas returns from his meeting with Dr. Georgia Vakkar. He sees that Kalopsia is sitting on one of the leather seats, blankly staring at the ground. Sensing her emotional fragility, he chooses a seat close to her. He says nothing, just giving her the physical feeling companionship, which can be delivered in silence. But he doesn’t have to wait for long until a conversation is struck up by Kalopsia.


    “That training program… I don’t know if I wanna try again,” she says.


    “Which one are you talking about?” Boreas asks.


    “The Onslaught Evasion one,” she says.


    “Ah yes, I was wondering how you would respond to it, as it’s initially unpleasant for everyone to lose it,” Boreas says, “What was your scenario?”


    “I went with the default one. It felt like some older battle scenario or location, there were no megastructures anywhere, just foreign soldiers chanting,” she says.


    “Did they have short or long coats?” Boreas asks.


    “Long… and brown I think,” Kalopsia says.


    “I see. It was likely a World War II scenario simulation. It’s based structurally around what was then Stalingrad but narratively it’s structured around Koenigsberg when the Soviets did atrocities to women there and all kinds other nasty things.”


    “I see,” Kalopsia says, “Well I can’t say I liked that.”


    “It’s a daunting one, but the standard setting. I imagine they got pretty weird when they caught you for a moment?”


    “Yes,” she says.


    “Well that’s alright,” Boreas says, “The simulation might even hit you in the face with a gun’s stock which would knock out your teeth, but the pain is actually simulated from your own mind, you are in no real danger there.”


    “Oh,” she says looking a little perplexed, “So why should I take it seriously?”


    “Well the pain is meant to serve as a foil to whoever things they can approach it not seriously,” Boreas says, “And the scenarios are meant to become more disturbing as they go on and feed on your fears because you’re supposed to be able to ignore that in the heat of battle. You must embrace the pain in the simulator to be able to avoid it in a real world setting. You flinch, you die. This is the antidote to the flinch.”


    “How could I ignore the threat of being captured, tortured and raped or killed?” she asks.


    “It’s not how could you, it’s that you must. Fear acts as a paralytic. You must keep your mind clear and objective if you’re to evade any search party and to be constantly aware of your surroundings. By focusing on only one aspect of it is a recipe for failure,” Boreas says.


    “How far do you get?” Kalopsia.


    “Pretty far, it usually takes a session hours until I feel like giving up,” Boreas says, “But you’ll get better at it if you remain persistent. I promise.”