Cire.

  “Ding! Attention! Noroag: ‘Port Pride,’ station ‘four.’ Attention! Noroag ‘Port Pride,’ station ‘four.’ Please be advised that pod ‘four’ is now locked for departure. Thank you!”

  Cire felt the shift in momentum as the tram slowed, pulling into its destination as the fourth was magically detached, only for a new ‘ four’ to be ied within the same minute.

  Seds ter, the tram was already moving again, speeding back up at an incredible yet smooth pace she almost couldn't detect…

  “Ding! Attention! Remember to trao your correct departure pod before tram arrival. ETA to ‘Port Pride,’ station ‘five’ is two minutes and thirty-eight seds. Thank you!”

  Again, the meical but feminine voice rang through the , and Cire merely watched as several people began moving through her pod’s aisle.

  Within a few moments, the traffic had pletely died down. And a minute or so ter, the announcer was already back at it, happily narrating the tram’s progress.

  Dear god, that would get old soon…

  Thankfully, Cire was already tuning it out. She’d long since wheedled her way into the transit work and was fully aware of its departures and arrivals without needing to hear that horrible ‘ding’ again…

  Idly, she bobbed her foot, switg through the avaible ‘views’ the transit system offered, until she resented with a fully transparent train as it raced along the city's skyway!

  She watched the strangely death-defying show for a time, simply the speeding tram as it blurred the distant city below… The tall skyscrapers, aerial traffid colossal billboards that looped animated advertisements o.

  It was beautiful, in its own crusty and dystopian kind of way… Indeed, a district beyond ‘Port Pride’ would have likely fit the phrase better, but for Cire, well, she’d never really takeime to appreciate a sight like this…

  y was all.

  And firl who craved experiehe mere act of riding on public transit was, in its own way, sort of fun!

  Now, while Cire would have indeed been given orders to remain oram so she could meet whatever goons Paradise might send her way to iigate the ‘glitch,’ she'd spoken of, the AI had other pns.

  She’d already disected her trag after spoofing her signal from a rey point several stops prior. From there, Cire systematically followed her own workflow while preparing her new avatar for adequate habitation.

  Unfortunately, she wasn't quite ready to open Pandora’s box and take a peek ihe isoted partition she’d uploaded Cirisa on, mainly because Cire didn't want whoever had hacked her to have an inkling of where she’d go also because she still didn't trust her.

  Cire didn't think that her sub-mind was really involved in what had happened, but she wasn't willing to take ces either.

  So, it was a bit of a lonely ride as the AI remained in the pod she’d reawoken in. Holy sort of missing the irl's stant presence...

  She decided to move after the tram had arrived at her 's desigation, remainied as the tram sed the pod out to allow those riding the train to depart to the corresponding ptform and then simply remained onboard until arain arrived to pick her up and send her on her way.

  It was quite a bit of an ingenious system, really. With several trams stantly moviween stations and the sable pods that were quickly exged through magic rails, oruly didn't have to wait long to travel through the city.

  As it happened, Cire was already in the district she’d desired to be in.

  ‘Port Pride’.

  The bae, as it were, of Luna-C’s eiinanbsp;

  Goods flowed like water through a river here, serving as the tral artery of the human republic, from where most, if not all, of their ercial business moved.

  Out of all the pces Cire had sidered fleeing to, it alone seemed the best option.

  Sadly, things hadn't worked out quite as straightforward as she had predicted.

  After the fias Cheery Meadows, Cire had thought things would get markedly easier for her once making it to the greater city. However, in a somewhat bizarre twist of fate, the AI now found herself in a bit of a pickle.

  The obvious thing to do, following the attempt on her life and snty, was to build a new and barter ‘her.’ A fairly gring and obvious solution, given, of course, what had happened, yet it wasn't to be so simple.

  She agreed that this, in general, should have been a fairly easy thing to manage, as she herself and no doubt others would assume. After all, Cire was a genius! Thus, it should be easy for her to make a better robot than the hacks that had created her.

  All of this was true.

  However, what she hadn't really ated for was—money. O-or, that was to say, credits. As it happened, while Cire’s new body was just as capable as her st, she was by no means a ‘super-puter.’

  Worse, when she’d actually gone poking around looking to set herself up with a little bit of spending cash, perhaps after suffering an ating error in her favor, she’d learhat the ‘Republic’ wasn't quite so easy to fool…

  Every person born aered had a well-doted Republic ID that, sadly, Cire had no hopes of replig.

  Holy, she’d thought long and hard over the various ways she assumed she could fihings so that money wasn't such a barrier for her. Sadly, her predictive model she’d been stantly adjusting with new datasets, spoke of a somewhat grim situation.

  The ‘Peacekeepers’ did not take attempts at fraudulent access to Republiking systems lying down. Moreover, while Cire was smart, she wasn't infallible. She was just one being, okay, one super smart being with siderable capabilities, but she was in no way ready to try and take oirety of the Republic gover and its host of checks and bances.

  She felt she might be able to get away with a bit of hag to use the ats of everyday citizens, but that wouldn't really solve her issues. At least, not wheirely ripped apart the Republic's known ating practices.

  When it came to money, it was only tiny and negligible amounts that might not get fgged by the goverhat Cire could reasonably get away with. And, annoyingly, it would still get fgged when the banking watchdogs noticed money had bee in a locatiohe at holder was not currently active.

  It was like a transponder system.

  All those in the Republic who spent their money released a little ‘ping’ to identify where they were. And if the gover’s systems didn't think that two ‘pings’ were likely to be gerictly based on time and location, they ht blocked the transa aed the attempt as fraud to their enforcers.

  Really, if she was already going to fight that hard for tiny scraps, they weren't worth all the hassle.

  No, Cire needed real mohe sort that would let her gain access to high-tech parts and the facilities to make use of them.

  She didn't need an apartment, she didn't need food, nor did Cire need water, clothes, bs, or anything else a normal human might sider as a y.

  However,

  She did need electricity. She did need credits that might allow her to rent or purchase a building to serve as her ir, and she definitely needed a means to operate in the human world without letting those who cared, know what she was doing.

  Her first hope was that she’d be able to create a new identity for herself, then a new body that looked human enough that nobody could tell the difference. From there, she could have more or less gotten away with anything she really wao! All while walking around in her proxy body while uploadirue mind to a bank of super-servers.

  Sadly, making a new Republic ID was as liable to get the fed’s all riled up that someone was hag them as it was to waste her time.

  Cire simply couldn't do it.

  She was a big enough girl to uand her current limitations, and while she did have options, the ‘easy route’ that she’d based her assumptions on from how she’d rocketed through Cheery Meadows was—simply put, not at all reality outside their self-tained unity.

  If Cire could just get her hands on a ship with fabrication capabilities, she’d be set for life! That said, the AI doubted she’d get very far before she was either caught or destroyed.

  The attempt at her life at the Meadoroof enough that Cire was not the ‘top dog’ she’d first assumed herself to be. No, there were indeed powers out there that she simply couldn't tend with while still absent the proper hardware.

  At a certain point, it didn't matter how good she was, with enough putational might, the same that she assumed the gover would very much possess; even a caveman could force its way through her systems aually overe her abilities.

  Sadly, Cire was in a delicate situation. Not a dire one, not yet, but she did o move quickly, quietly, and without raising any arms, or else she'd have the gover sniffing up her ass faster than she could reasonably deal with.

  There was always the 'Sub-verse,' she supposed, and if she wanted, Cire could probably eke out a det enough life for herself as a purely virtual existence, but where was the fun in that?

  Cire didn't want to be virtual! She liked reality; she enjoyed physically existing! And while the monkeys might feel they o escape it whilst making a bid to be the masters of a new universe of their owion, Cire retty sure she could rein this old bit and take it for a ride the likes it had never seen before!

  So, where did that leave her?

  Well, to start, she wasn't willing to just keep plug more androids to inhabit and stir the hor's , so—that was out… No, better to keep that as the hidden ace she could rely on, just as she already had.

  When she looked at things in the small term, she could trol her enviro so long as she avoided drawing attention. She couldn't open a bank at because those were carefully trolled by the gover. She couldn't pretend to be a human because, surprise, the gover evidently tracked that shit like it was on lockdown!

  Utopia?

  No.

  It was a Corporatocracy that had a hardon for diligent bureaucratic ating.

  Though, like all societies where money was king, there were always loopholes, purposeful or otherwise, to be found.

  As it happened, while every single damned republic credit had its own freaking serial tached to it, therefutting any ideas she had at creating ‘fake’ currency, Cire was not shit out of luck.

  Just like the blue-colred w forefathers of monkeys past, any strong-jawed and calloused-handed simian would tell you the same thing.

  That ‘cash’ was king.

  Why the gover would allow such a practice as ‘credit-chips’ Cire couldn't quite parse. Especially when it seemed, for all is and purposes, to be of a severely trolliy that didn't suffer those trying to cheat it.

  However, either through corruption, a desire for dark dealings to not be tracked to those in power, or through simple disi iing crime since credits were heavily taxed when first entering a new chip or exiting so said chip when one desired to spend their mohe Republi its infinite wisdom, did allow for a form of ‘physical asset’ when it came to their tral currency.

  This, naturally, was very, very good for Cire. As absent anything of that nature, her options would have been severely limited.

  Quite holy, she’d been on the verge to figure out a way to stow away on an outbound ship to a as stealthily as possible on transit, then piss off until she could build a super-base.

  And while that still felt as though it might be her best bet, Cire was taking a few extra mio really figure out if that was what she wao do.

  In all hoy, what Cire really needed here was to leave Luna-C…

  She o get away from a goveral base of power. She o get away from her prior ‘employer.’ And most of all, she o be able to set up in a location that wasn't heavily monitored, or that was otherwise firmly held in the noose of Republifluence.

  “So… a frontier port?” She silently asked herself, clig her tongue while immediately pulling up the most modern and freely avaible Republic star chart.

  Okay…

  Alright!

  There were a number of ‘free ports’ that were teically owned and protected by the human state but not actually run by the gover, as Luna-C was.

  Instead, it was a corporation that ‘purchased’ the rights to build a small city somewhere within Republic space (which was everywhere, acc to them) wherein the pany would act as governor for people who chose to live there—for one reason or another.

  It erfebsp;

  No Republifluence beyond basic adjudication and w, no ‘peacekeepers,’ and presumably, far less of this anal-attentive bullshit she was stantly dang around while poking through Luna-C’s databases…

  And, if the style of goverhat these corporate overlords could be likeo what she already knew of such things, then it could be expected that the people in charge would offer only as little fiscal effort as possible in their duties to ehey maximized profits.

  Yes! She had a pn!

  Cire rode the tram to the destination she’d picked out. Returning full circle through a nearly plete loop before ending her ride at station seven.

  There, she disembarked, ag as any other ‘Cire’ model Doll would.

  She traveled through the loire that the trams were all ected to. Joihe multities of humans acked themselves into aor, then took a ride all the way down to the city's ground level where she exited the terminal without plication.

  Port Pride…

  Hmph! What was there to be proud of?

  Cire looked to her left, then tht, the rather rundown and dreary architecture that appeared to be absent from proper city maintenance.

  There were no cars as personal vehicles of that nature were outwed in lieu of rather timely public transit or, in the case of those who could afford it, aerial chauffeur subscriptions and their auto-piloted vehicles.

  Rather, people simply walked to and from their destination, with brief trips via tram interspaced when needed.

  This created a rather iing dynamic where roads didn't so much as exist in the ventional sense a history majht refer to in there—well, whatever it was, ‘history majors’ actually did…

  Instead, buildings loomed between carefully pnned boulevards meant only to aodate a modest crowd of people.

  And while such districts as the lofty and prestigious corporate ‘gardens’ or the even more affluent ‘Ptinum mile’ as it was called, might have such locals generously interspersed by rge spans filled with amenities and parks and recreational sights. The same could not be said about the Ports.

  This was the industrial 'bck heart’ of Luna-d it was just as miserable as Cire had read on message boards.

  Curling her lip at the grimy nature of it all, she spied an errant bit of refuse—ahem—exhausted and passed out factory worker, who was currently lying at the side of the street, curled into himself and—

  Oh… Nope, he was just dead!

  Okay…

  Cire eyed the body, her intrusion into his still active impnts tellihat they reported all vital signs as deceased. And not from natural causes!

  Her gaze lingered for a moment ter as though expeg something to happen, maybe help expin all the stab wounds. Yet, after a few moments, Cire simply carried on her way…

  Crime was not absent from the city. Far from it, in fact. And while Cheery Meadows indeed held a rge popution of supposed ‘undesirables,’ it only did so because Luna-C prisons were filled to bursting.

  Cheap bor.

  An abundance of people who desperately wao work.

  Bodies filling the streets with nothing more to do than loiter.

  A perfect storm, some might say. But shy of simply butchering all your potential workers when AI was outwed, what better way to hahings was there than just shoving all the ‘bor’ into low-ine areas?

  “Hey… Mike, you see this shit?”

  “Fug Doll walking down the road… The fuck’s one of them doing in the Port’s?”

  Not for the first time since she'd been here and begun sauntering dowreets, Cire g a troop of unwashed and jobless apes as they called out to her, trying to entice her to e near, almost as if she were a stray dog, and they were waiving a bright banana.

  And, just as before, Cire chimed her warning, gring at all those who watched her to let them know to keep away...

  “Attention! Please refrain from unsolicited attempts at approach. I am currently already reserved. If you wish to make an appoi, please visit the Paradise app! Otherwise, maintain distance.”

  Sadly, the 'chuckles' of amused but nefarious ihat resounded didn't bode well for anyone involved...

  Madmcgee