Day 36
Why? Why? Major Kuba paced her office. The soft glow of the holographic map dominated the space. The contours of Doli-2’s 3D hologram, and Doli’s printing body, casting shifting shadows on her and Professor Zhal.
“Calm down,” her mother said. “This won’t help any of us.”
“Doctor Francine deliberately misdiagnosed him,” Kuba said, her voice tight with anger. “He flagged deviations but reported them as a cold, despite the clear neural symptoms.”
Zhal brought up Piotr’s first Academy scans. “Correct, and the next few alerts were systematically downplayed. What’s worse, someone tampered with his health treatments—the immune boosters he received were ineffective by design.”
“Why didn’t any of this flag up sooner?”
“I don’t know,” Zhal said. “The medical system has been compromised. Doctor Hinada’s sister, Tera, doesn’t know it, but her access credentials have been used to alter medical records over a dozen times.”
“So they’ve been monitoring him, letting the condition worsen.” Kuba’s fists clenched. “All of it, this ‘stress,’ the ‘training incidents’—it’s a systematic effort to push him to the brink.”
Zhal nodded, her usual academic demeanor gone, just one of worry now. “The General’s response to all of these incidents has been... underwhelming at best. Calculated at worst.”
“You noticed it too?” Kuba stopped pacing, fixing her mother with a sharp look.
“Hard to miss, when Piotr and Andri uncovered the poison before he did,” Zhal replied, adjusting her glasses. “Delayed security responses, missing surveillance footage, convenient system failures. Torven has orchestrated everything—from the attack on the cadets to the medical sabotage. He’s working with the Brakers, without question.”
Zhal moved closer to the hologram, studying Doli-2’s architecture with a critical eye. “We need to decide what to do about both Doli’s. If the General is indeed working with the Brakers, he’ll have access to everything we’re doing officially.” She glanced at her daughter.
“We can’t just run, there’s too much at stake here, too much…”
“What do you want to do?” Zhal asked.
“I don’t know, we need time….”
“And what about Piotr? His condition is deteriorating fast—thanks to the deliberately inadequate treatment he’s received. Doctor Francine has been adjusting his medication to slow his recovery, not accelerate it. He needs proper treatment and surgery immediately.”
Kuba leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the map, fingers tracing the vulnerable points in the academy’s defenses. “We give them Doli-2 it’s exactly what they want.”
“Piotr hadn’t finished her coding, had he?”
“Almost, she’s as good as they’re ever going to get. Especially now. If the sponsors believe Doli-2 is viable, they’ll rush to claim her. Their reckless greed won’t be able to resist the chance.”
Her chest tightened as she spoke. Giving up anything they had worked on wasn’t the answer, but it was the only one she had right now.
What had begun as a calculated gamble to save her program had escalated beyond anything she could have anticipated. Her mother’s words returned to her: “You’re personally invested.” It was true, and that investment had grown from professional to something dangerous.
“We need to bring your father into this,” Zhal said quietly, tapping the console. “The Admiral needs to know what’s happening.”
Kuba hesitated. “He’ll say I’ve been reckless. That I’ve put everyone at unnecessary risk.”
“Perhaps,” Zhal conceded. “But he also has the authority and resources we need right now.”
A moment later, the stern face of Admiral Kuba materialized before them, his expression grave, but his uniform and hair pristine condition. Ever the Admiral, Kuba thought.
“Report,” he said.
Kuba straightened instinctively. “General Torven has been compromised. I’m sending over secured files to you now. Evidence that he’s been working with the Brakers, and that he was behind multiple security failures, and strategic information leaks over the last few months. The latest of which led to an open attack on Cadet Argassa and his team while on their trial mission at the Station.”
“Files take time to arrive,” the Admiral’s expression hardened further. “Solid evidence?”
“Yes,” Zhal interjected. “We’ve uncovered a coordinated effort involving General Torven, Doctor Francine, and several other staff members. They’ve been deliberately sabotaging Piotr’s health while monitoring the development of Doli. We need to make decisions about the Doli program and our safety immediately. Cadet Argassa collapsed today, and his condition is deteriorating rapidly.”
“Collapsed?” The Admiral’s eyes narrowed. “How rapidly?”
“His latest scans show accelerating neural degradation,” Kuba replied, pulling up the medical data. “Not only does he have AI integration issues, but he has a rare form of cancer.”
“Linked to Doli?”
“Yes,” Zhal said. “And according to the records we’ve recovered, they’ve known about this condition for months. Doctor Francine has been providing health boosters hidden in his food designed to maintain the cancer at a detectable level without curing it—keeping Piotr functional enough to work, but nothing else. The neural interface was never designed for this level of constant connectivity.”
"So they have been testing him?"
"Beyond anything ethical, yes."
The new statistics from Piotr’s scans flashed up:-
“Forgive me but they are correct, Admiral,” Doli’s voice came through the room’s speakers. “My integration with Cadet Argassa is causing extreme damage.”
“What do you need?” he asked.
“Time,” Zhal said. “Time more than anything.”
“You think I have sway on what happens at the Academy, from out here?”
“You have more sway than you know. Phone in a few favors.”
“You really think I can just phone a friend.” The Admiral’s face paled, and he let out a long breath, silent for another long moment. “What is the plan?”
“My upgraded body is printing right now,” Doli informed him. “Once that is complete, I will transfer my primary systems to the new housing. This will reduce the strain on Piotr significantly. It will give him the time he needs to reach a medical facility that can handle his cancer treatment properly.”
“And your printing status?”
“It’s only been running 12 hours, she’s at twenty-two percent complete,” Zhal reported. “We can accelerate the process, but it risks compromising stability.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Kuba insisted. “If we don’t get Doli into her proper housing soon, Piotr might suffer permanent damage.”
“You realize the risk?” The Admiral studied the data finally before him. “Doli, are the risks worth it?”
A smile tugged at Kuba’s lips. “You’re asking Doli?”
“She is the best judge of this situation, her survival instincts are there, but she wants to save Cadet Argassa above herself, correct?”
“You know it’s in her coding.” Kuba admitted.
“Then I ask again. Doli, are the risks acceptable?”
“No, Admiral.” Doli replied. “The risks are unacceptable.”
“Then continue at your current pace. How long till completion?”
“Seventy-Two hours,”Doli replied.
The Admiral’s gaze sharpened. “Major, I need to speak with you. Alone.”
Zhal nodded, stepping out of the hologram’s range but remaining at the far end of the room, a silent presence of support.
“Ashley,” the Admiral said, his voice softening slightly as he used her first name. “Is this about your mission objective, or about Argassa?”
Kuba swallowed, caught off guard by the direct question. “Both, sir. He’s crucial to our operation, and his condition—”
“Don’t insult my intelligence,” the Admiral cut in. “Your mother has kept me informed of your... personal investment.”
Kuba shot a betrayed look at her mother, who merely raised an eyebrow in response.
“I care about all my cadets,” Kuba said carefully.
“But this one is different.” It wasn’t a question. “The same way Doli is different from any AI you’ve developed before. The same way this situation is different from standard protocol.” He sighed and shook his head. “Your stubbornness reminds me so much of myself at your age.”
“Sir, I—”
“No explanations needed, Major,” he interrupted. “But I need to know that you can separate your personal feelings from tactical necessity if it comes to that.”
“You mean if I have to sacrifice Cadet Argassa for the mission,” she said firmly, though her heart clenched at the implication.
The Admiral nodded and glanced at Zhal.
“I will,” Kuba answered. “You know I will.”
“Then you have my authorization. Transfer all your operations to Port Wells immediately. My holdings there are secure. It’s off the grid, fully equipped, and staffed with people personally vetted. Move both Doli and Argassa’s team there now. I’ll handle the paperwork.”
“And the General, and Doctor Francine, sir?”
“Let them think you’re following protocol around Argassa’s collapse. I’ll deal with them. But Major....” His eyes narrowed. “—Be careful. If the Brakers have infiltrated as deeply as you suspect, nowhere is truly safe. As soon as you start moving, they’re going to react.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Ashley?” His voice softened again, just slightly. “Don’t lose yourself in this. Your mother and I have seen too many good officers sacrifice everything for the mission. Dismissed.”
Major Kuba didn’t have words to end the conversation. Her mother reached over and cut the empty comms.
Kuba stared at the empty space where her father’s image had been.
Zhal stepped back into view. “He’s right, you know.”
“About which part?” Kuba asked wearily.
“All of it,” Zhal replied. “Especially about Piotr.”
A soft beep interrupted their discussion. Kuba tapped her wrist console, and a small window of data appeared in the air.
It was from Doctor Francine and marked – Urgent
Kuba’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the message. “More lies,” she muttered. “He’s recommending a ‘specialized treatment protocol’ that would further deteriorate Piotr’s neural pathways while making it look like standard care.”
“I’ll get everything we need moving,” Zhal said, about to leave. “You need to go and see to Doli’s printing and go and see Piotr.”
“His condition is critical due to the deliberately inadequate treatment he’s being given,” Doli reported. “Recommend immediate transfer to specialised facilities equipped for neural regeneration alongside accelerated completion of my physical housing. Estimated viable treatment window: 80 hours maximum.”
Kuba’s throat tightened. “How quickly can that side of you be finished?”
<
“And you can start to move across?”
“Yes, I can start transferring non-essential systems.”
Kuba ordered without hesitation. “Do it,”
“Increasing power now. I will keep you informed of the progress.”
“Doli,” she asked. “How long have you known?”
“Initial tumor markers were present in Piotr’s first medical scan,” she replied. “They were dormant and statistically manageable then.”
"Why didn't you report it?"
No answer.
Kuba rubbed her eyes. "What about Doli2 when you pull out?"
<
Kuba murmured, realization dawning. “They will target what they believe is the end result, while your true self will be safely housed elsewhere.”
<
Kuba walked around the printing station. “Inform Piotr’s team discreetly. Tell them to prepare for a full briefing as soon as he’s cleared from medical. It’s time they know exactly what we’re facing.”
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“Can you... can you keep him functional during that time?” she asked.
“I can work around Doctor Francine, so he won’t know, and counteract some of the damage, but I cannot halt the disease. The damage from months of deliberately inadequate care has accumulated. He will experience increasing episodes of disorientation, pain, and potential seizures.”
Kuba put a hand on the outer shell of the printer. Feeling it vibrating as it created something truly special.
She was beautiful and terrifying. What they were creating wasn’t just a housing for an AI—it was the next evolution of human-machine symbiosis. No wonder the Brakers wanted it so badly. “I hope you’re everything we’ve been dreaming of.”
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