Shinju is the latest planet discovered and settled by humanity, but they are not the first to live here. It is littered by long abandoned alien ruins that speak of a highly advanced civilization. Among the settlers a subculture of treasure hunters has sprung up, who venture into the ruins to look for xenotech artifacts. They call themselves Sāchā.
Ruby Monday is one of these Sāchā, perehaps the most famous ones. She has recently vanished, but mysterious messages from here have appeared, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs to a highly valuable stash of xenotechnology. Various faction scramble to secure these artifacts to prevent them from doing irreversible damage – or use them for their own ends.
Ilya couldn’t believe his luck. First he had stumbled upon his first ever proper xenotech cache, and while nothing of the … things was in working condition, he was sure they would sell for a pretty penny and more importantly make him a proper Sāchā.
Second – and maybe this was a direct result of the first – he had received an invitation by none other than the famous Ruby Monday herself to a Kazureibu rave out in the desert. Lots of people would hear about it along the usual Maya channels of course, but to receive a personal invitation was special, real special!
Third – and this occupied Ilya’s full attention at the moment – a beautiful girl seemed to be falling for him hard. She had smiled at him among the dancers under the slowly darkening sky of Shinju, and when he sent her some of his personal tunes to overlay over the baseline, she had synced to them, done some improv variations and sent them right back.
Now they were chilling in a quiet corner on top of one of the buildings of the still-under-construction forward base that served as the site of the rave. Their quantronic auras were casually intermingled, sharing favorite music, clips and little stories. Kleio was her name. Ilya had been surprised – and a little thrilled – when he realized she didn’t have a cube. All her quantronics were completely external, which seemed quite dangerous. How could she be recovered, if something went wrong here in wilds of Shinju? But then she seemed to be from Bourak, and he had heard quite a few Haqqislamites went without a cube on purpose. For some religious reason perhaps?
Suddenly Ilya became aware that somebody else was on the roof. A crouched figure was peering over one of the railings into the strobing lights and glittering drones of the main rave area, a sleek helmet and dull visor masking the face. The outfit was clearly out of place for a rave – military, professional, but without markings of any sort. Ilya knew there was trouble brewing when the figure raised a long, slender rifle and carefully rested it in a gap of the railing.
Luckily the sniper didn’t seem to be aware of Kleio and him – or had dismissed them as a couple spaced-out ravers – and Ilya was more than happy to take that as his fourth stroke of luck for today and leave it at that. But to his horror he suddenly realized that Kleio had slipped out of their hidden nook and was casually sidling over to the stranger, as if to offer some drugs or strike up a conversation. Was she high? Or naive? That guy would surely not hesitate to kill her.
Ilya’s self-preservation instinct screamed at him to keep his head down, but to his own surprise he found his feet had taken over without consulting his brain, and he was stumbling after Kleio to drag her back to safety.
The sniper had just noticed the approaching girl and despite being surprised was already fumbling for a satchel at his side, probably to get a pistol or something, Ilya thought, as there was not enough space or time to swivel that long gun around. The young Sāchā braced himself for a gunshot, but none came. A long, thin knife materialized in Kleio’s hands as she expertly stabbed the sniper in the gap between helmet and body armor, once, twice, then caught his slumping body before it could fall to the ground.
Something else clattered onto the floor though, pulled from the sniper’s satchel with his dying breath. A small, flat, ominous shape, which emitted a few red lights and a low hum, as it seemed to activate. Ilya made to grab it and throw it from the roof, but before he could do so, Kleio grabbed him, twisted his leg and threw him to the ground. He landed painfully on his back, Kleio on top of him, knocking his breath out . „Don’t move or we are both dead!“ she hissed. „That’s a mine.“
Ilya held his breath, confusion rolling through his brain. He had no idea what was happening, who that sniper had been or who Kleio was. But of one thing he was sure of: He was hopelessly in love.