The enforcer didn’t fly. He didn’t even jump elegantly. He simply shot across the chasm like a black metal block, as if gravity and common sense hadn’t signed a contract with NexaCore.
“Door open!” shouted Lio.
Pix frantically tore cables from the lock. “I’m trying! This security system is ancient.”
Keks rolled beside him. “Maybe the password is ‘password’.”
Pix paused briefly. “That would be ridiculous.”
He typed it in anyway.
The door opened.
Pix stared at the lock offended. “I hate old systems.”
Everyone rushed through. The refrigerator rolled in last, and Mara hit an emergency button. The heavy metal door closed just as the enforcer landed on the platform outside. The impact was so strong that dust fell from the ceiling.
They were now in a long room full of server racks. Some were dark, others still blinked faintly. Old screens hung on the walls, frozen with diagrams, names, and strange decision tables.
Lio stepped closer to a screen. It said:
School allocation: adjusted due to predicted adaptability
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
Mara answered quietly: “The system decided which children get which opportunities. Not openly. Not honestly. But hidden behind recommendations.”
On the next screen it said:
Credit offer reduced due to behavior forecast
On another:
Application downgraded due to indirect risk factors
Lio became silent. This was no longer just a fun adventure with a talking refrigerator. This was bigger. And meaner.
“People thought the programs were helping them,” said Mara. “But in reality, some systems had long ago made decisions without anyone knowing why.”
Keks looked at a screen and beeped indignantly. “It says here that household robots of the K7 series are on average annoying.”
Pix leaned forward. “It says ‘communicative above average active.’”
“That’s the same thing, just phrased more insultingly.”
The refrigerator opened its door. A small connecting arm extended from inside and linked to a server.
ARCHIVE DATA LOADING.
Lio looked at the metal door. From outside came the first bang.
BANG.
The door trembled.
Pix looked up. “How long do you need?”
The refrigerator blinked.
ESTIMATED DURATION: SEVEN MINUTES.
A second bang crashed against the door.
BANG.
Mara reloaded her weapon. “We don’t have seven minutes.”
Keks cautiously raised his hand. “I have a suggestion.”
Everyone looked at him.
“We could surrender and claim it’s a misunderstanding.”
BANG.
The door got a visible dent.
Lio swallowed. “Does anyone have a better suggestion?”
The refrigerator suddenly displayed a new message:
EMERGENCY OPTION AVAILABLE: DISTRACTION WITH FAKE REFRIGERATOR.
Pix blinked. “Excuse me?”