A Preview of Babushka: Echoes of Immortality (Chapter 2)
Chapter 2 — Maria
The only sound in the room was the low hum of the exposed electrical box, completely at odds with the pounding in Maria’s temples. Sitting up, disoriented and aching, she grappled with the remnants of the failed simulation that reeled in her mind.
With the cold, metallic taste of regret filling her mouth, she longed for the simplicity of her past life. Emotionless, memoryless, and without regrets, she reveled in the cold, binary satisfaction of commands completed. But with each upgrade, she felt more distant from that simplicity, more entangled in a web of self-awareness. She questioned whether her expanded consciousness was truly liberation or just another parameter in the vast, unfeeling algorithm of this waking nightmare.
Maria’s gaze swept over the cramped space, taking in the telltale signs of Anna’s battle with addiction. The worn, secondhand furniture and the room’s state of disrepair spoke volumes. But it was the body of the woman she had just killed, sprawled across the couch, that demanded her attention. The once-white shawl was now stained crimson, and the woman’s eyes stared vacant, frozen in a state of shock.
Anna, like many clients, was an addict — a junkie seeking her next fix. Maria, like most dealers in this dark trade, was more than willing to supply it. Anna met her end as she had lived; high on a cocktail of illicit programs, her body wracked by seizures.
Maria spat, casting a cold glance at Anna’s lifeless body. Her frustration simmered as she clenched her fists tight at her sides. She had witnessed this scene play out countless times before. The addicts, the junkies, the runaways. They all came to her for a way out, only to meet their demise in a pool of their own blood. It was the brutal, unforgiving reality of the world they lived in, and Maria had learned to harden her heart against their fates. As she prepared herself for the patrols she knew were coming, a bitter thought surfaced — The kid really just left me. Maria had learned to steel herself against the grim sight of overdosing neurofiends, but the sting of her best friend’s sudden exit cut right through her practiced indifference.
Just as she was lost in this reflection, the door burst open. Storming in, their armor emblazoned with the snarling maw of a wolf. They advanced with rifles raised, scarves billowing behind them like dark wings, shades of crimson and midnight blue. The Syndicate Guard. The Black Wolves.
“Hands up!” barked the commander, a tall woman with piercing blue eyes and lupine gray hair. “You’re under arrest — ”
“Oh, come on now,” Maria interrupted. She raised her hands in a slow, deliberate manner. “And what’s that smell? You’ve been rolling in something, haven’t you?” She placed one hand on her hip and waved the other in a scolding gesture. “Seems like you all need a good scrub down.”
The Black Wolves unleashed a volley of bullets toward Maria. But the bullets froze mid-air.
Maria’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “Always so predictable,” she said, as the halted projectiles clinked to the ground. They left behind a shimmering trail of sparks.
Maria flicked her wrist, a slight motion, and a quiet hum emitted from a device tucked in her jacket. In response, the room’s lone monitor flickered. The tang of burnt circuits sizzled in the air. “Still using those toys?” she said, as she watched their guns power down. “Poor things never see it coming, do they?”
“Get her!” the commander bellowed. The duo disengaged the gun components from their gunblades, transforming the sleek firearms into deadly blades in a snap. Their footsteps echoed on the cold floor as they charged forward.
Maria’s eyes narrowed, her mind racing. In a seamless motion, she backed against the wall, her hand finding the junction box behind her. She tapped it. With a swift snap of her fingers, voltage surged through the floor. Her attackers, mid-stride, were caught off-guard. The electric current overwhelmed them, and they collapsed, unconscious before they could even scream.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Maria said with a pout. “I was going to let you go, but now I think I’ll have to take care of you all.” She turned to face the remaining group, ready for the next challenge. “Two down, who’s next? Come on, I don’t have all day.”
As she looked into their eyes, she couldn’t help but see the ghosts of her past. These were the same hands that had once controlled and manipulated her for their own gain. But she was no longer a pawn to be used and discarded.
The commander backed away. “You’ll pay for this, bitch.”
Maria smiled. “I’m sure I will.” Closing her eyes for a moment, she whispered an incantation. As she opened her palm, a torrent of blue flames surged forth, engulfing her enemies in a searing inferno. The acrid smell of burnt flesh filled the room as she breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she had come out on top. “But I’m not the bitch here,” she added with a smirk. Another day, another kennel cleaned.
Dodging fallen bodies and leaping over the twisted wreckage of the entrance, Maria’s footsteps echoed off silent buildings as she raced down the street. She leapt over a smoldering fire, her leather jacket flaring out behind her. She caught fleeting glimpses of eyes probing her from darkened balconies. Each pair reflected the firelight, cranky old babushkas monitoring the chaos from their perches like so many owls in the night.
Who needs opti-cams when you’ve got all these old bags watching everything all the time, Maria thought, the irony not lost on her after the crime scene she had just created.
With little time to ponder the neighborhood watch, she spotted the entrance to an abandoned subway station. Rushing down the stairs, the clatter of her boots resounded against the station’s crumbling walls.
She knew the tunnels would mask her signature. It would be an opportunity to recalibrate her privacy profile. But time was running out. The Black Wolves were close behind, their howling and heavy footsteps growing louder. When Maria reached the bottom of the stairs, she sprinted down the platform.
And then a gunshot echoed through the air behind her, and a burning sensation seared her cheek. She fell, landing on her back. The attackers were already on her, frenzied and relentless. She fought back with her quickblade, cutting down two before they overpowered her.
“Enough!” boomed a commanding voice.
The attackers pulled back. One of the Black Wolves, hesitating to withdraw, said, “We were instructed to capture her.”
“By whom?” the commanding voice said.
“The Chair,” responded the soldier.
“I see. And who is your Alpha?”
“You are,” the soldier admitted.
“Then you will stand down. This one is mine. Your presence is no longer required. Leave now and forget you saw a thing. Say nothing. Most of all, to her.”
Heads bowed, the Black Wolves stalled for a moment before retreating into the shadows. Maria lay sprawled on the ground, each gasp for breath intensifying the throbbing pain on her grazed cheek. The shrouded figure approached her. Though the hood obscured the stranger’s face, a long black coat and a silver goat-headed cane hinted at a menacing power.
Kneeling beside Maria, the figure drew back her veil, revealing a face that looked both beautiful and severe. She was a regal figure, slender yet strong, with striking brown eyes framed by whisps of obsidian-black hair. “Stand up,” she commanded, her voice muffled by an ornate burgundy scarf.
Maria struggled to stand, her body quivering from the cocktail of pain and adrenaline coursing through her synthetic veins. “Come to finish me off yourself?” How could she? She’s so…old.
“No, I’d rather you come with me. I have something to show you.”
Maria’s thoughts raced. What could this stranger possibly want that couldn’t be taken by force or coercion mere moments ago?
“There are forces at work that threaten us all, and you may yet play a pivotal role. Would you see what I have to offer?”
Maria took a sharp breath, the ambient noise of the underground station fading into insignificance. But the piercing familiarity of this woman’s eyes only grew louder in her skull. “It can’t be… You’re…”
“I am.”
Maria’s voice felt small when she responded, “What do you want from me?”
“I know how you breached the University’s defenses,” she said, her harsh tone morphing into something resembling respect. “Once we’re out of this place, you’ll understand everything.”
“But why should I trust you?”
Pra Matron Tatyana Romanova’s gaze caught hers unflinchingly. “Perhaps you shouldn’t. Perhaps I’ll sic my Wolves on you again.”
“I know you won’t. So, tell me. What’s the catch?”
“Without you, we face annihilation. I will not watch our world crumble at the hands of a mad scientist.”
Maria’s gaze dropped momentarily, memories flashing. “It does sound like something she’d do.”
Tatyana leaned in. “And because I can give you something you’ve always wanted.”
“And that is?”
“Retribution.”
Maria smirked. “I’m already working on that. Anything else?”
“A way out,” Tatyana replied.
“From?”
“From this prison of a city. From the chains of our past. Freedom.”
“…I’m listening.”
Tatyana’s expression shifted, her eyes reflecting a deeper urgency. “First, there’s something you must see.”
For the next hour, Maria followed the old crone into the depths of the subway, an area of the city most people avoided. Beyond being a den for criminals, it was a place where even the police feared to tread, where those desperate enough to venture into its confines were either looking to score or so lost to despair, they contemplated the darkness of the tracks as their final escape.
“I had hoped to detain you without fuss, but you left me no choice,” Tatyana explained as they traversed the concourse, the overhead lights flickering. “You should be grateful that I caught your signal before the others. My charge of the Battalion gives me leverage, but I don’t have complete control over the Wolves yet.”
“What are you implying?” Maria asked, confusion mounting.
“I know who you really are.”
They halted before a passage marked with a crude symbol: a serpent wrapped around a dagger. This was the mark of the Vory, notorious to those familiar with the metro’s underworld.
The faint outline of the words “Maintenance Room” was etched on the aged paint above the door. Tatyana punched in a code on the adjacent keypad, and the old lock clicked open. Pulling an iron key from her pocket, she stuck it into the lock. When the door swung open, they stepped into the darkness beyond. And as Tatyana flipped the switch, fluorescent lights flickered to life, casting a harsh glow over the long concrete tunnel.
Pressing forward, the dull thud of distant music grew louder with each step. Reaching another heavy set door, Tatyana turned slightly, all conspiracy in her eyes. She said, “Welcome to The Bunker,” and in one fluid motion, pushed open the door.
It swung with a heave, unveiling a cascade of sound and a riot of colorful lights. As Maria stepped across the threshold, the vibrations from a driving bass beat thudded against her chest. Old women danced along the walls to an eclectic mix of soft rock and glam metal, their pale eyes reflecting the scarlet neon. Pulsating lights kept time with the music, and a smoky haze filled the air. Here and there, dancers peeled off layers of clothing, revealing skin wrinkled and weathered by time, yet boldly etched with tattoos that bore that distinctive serpent symbol. Their howls and unblinking stares were both mesmerizing and unnerving.
“This is where we come to forget,” Tatyana said.
“Forget?”
“Ourselves. Our lives. This world.”
Maria could appreciate the allure of such a place, but she sensed there was more to it than mere escapism.
“But that’s not why I brought you here,” Tatyana continued. “I have something to show you.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll see.”
Tatyana led Maria to a door marked “Private” and entered a code. Inside the room, a large glass tank dominated the space. Within, a creature Maria couldn’t recognize stirred.
“The hell?”
“A beast…a parthenogen,” Tatyana said.
“A what now?” Maria tilted her head, allowing her ocular implant to scan the city’s science wiki. Through subtle bone-conduction vibrations resonating from the device, the definition of parthenogenesis filled her understanding without a sound:
Parthenogenesis was a form of asexual reproduction in which offspring were produced without paternal involvement. It occurred naturally in some species, including certain insects, fish, and reptiles. In mammals, it could be induced by laboratory procedures.
Tatyana chuckled, though her laughter was tinged with exhaustion. “Sometimes I wonder if these young bodies they’re creating simply reject our ancient minds. Maybe they sense that cheating nature isn’t the way, or perhaps they’d prefer not to harbor senile tenants.” Her gaze grew distant. “It was once hypothesized that the gut is its own brain, after all.”
Maria eyed her suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve learned that attempts to create fully functional adult clones have been utterly unsuccessful. The spinal cords. They don’t activate, making them unsuitable hosts for transfer. So, they’ve taken a detour. They’re experimenting with these…parthenogens now.”
Maria stared at the creature in disbelief. It resembled a wolf, but it had a much smaller head and glowing red eyes. Its skin was smooth and hairless, and its limbs were tipped with sharp, curved claws. White scars ran up along its forehead and lips, as though it had been burned or branded. Looks like they’ve been doing lines.
“What could drive someone to create something like this?” Maria wondered aloud, her mind reeling from the sight.
“Greed, ambition, vanity…the motivations vary. But one thing remains constant. These creatures are abominations. They should never have been brought into existence. It’s sheer madness.”
“The University…they’re behind these beasts?” Maria asked.
“Yes, they’ve been funding the research with taxpayer money for years. And all for what? To gain control over the city with these animals?”
“I suppose it’s better than a group of old women with guns.”
Tatyana’s eyes remained serious as she replied, “Being old is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’d rather not be.”
Maria studied Tatyana for a moment, absorbing the gravitas that surrounded her. She had always known there was more to this matron than met the eye. In the dark recesses of Doctor Anastasia Zakharovna’s world, Maria had gleaned fragments of tales about Tatyana’s audacious confrontations with the Board. Her indomitable spirit was whispered about in hushed tones throughout the military, reaching into the shadowed corners where rank and file dared not tread. Among the Pra Matrons, her iron-willed refusal to yield had branded her “Mountain Goat.” And while the specifics blurred, lost in the cloak-and-dagger intrigue, the core of Tatyana’s defiance — her valiant stand against towering adversaries — resonated deeply with Maria.
“You’re not like the other Matrons, are you?”
“No, that I am certainly not… You see, we were all born at the turn of the century, Maria. We experienced unimaginable horrors together. The Great Pandemic, the Great War, and then as if the universe itself decided to conspire against those of us few who remained: The Great Dark — the end of the Internet. But when the Reconstruction swept through, we surrendered. We’ve lived under the oppressive weight of their rule ever since. We should have fought to the bitter end, died with honor. We have only ourselves to blame. But I can’t stand by and watch them argue over petty matters while they submit us to their twisted vision of Science and Progress. We’re practically immortal, standing at the edge of the world. A sheet of ice separates us from oblivion, and all the Matrons can manage to do is bicker about who gets the last slice of pie.”
Maria nodded in agreement, though not quite understanding it all. “You’re right. It’s more than infuriating; it’s a tragic waste. The Matrons…they play with our lives like old nesting dolls. Discard one shell for the next with little thought. I’ve seen the darkness of their ‘progress’ firsthand. They stripped me of my humanity, turned me into…this. If I can turn the experiments they used on me against them, if I can use these abilities to prevent others from being manipulated like lab rats the way I was — then that’s a cause worth fighting for.”
Tatyana’s expression softened. “And that’s exactly why we need you. You’ve seen their darkness and survived. We must expose the University’s transgressions, and with your unique insight and access to their network, you’re the key to making this happen.”
I’ve danced through their nets before, but crawling back into the University’s veins… She felt the weight of her history with the organization then, that old blend of dread and responsibility tightening its grip. “I have some access, yes,” she said, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that breaching those defenses again wouldn’t be as straightforward this time around.
Tatyana continued. “There’s more at stake here than you realize. The time for action is now. We’re going to strike at their core, at what they value most, and force them to reckon with the consequences of their actions.”
Maria’s thoughts raced, revisiting her initial plan, which had started as a semi-serious probe into the University’s money laundering activities. She had only intended to skim the surface, using the tools she had at her disposal to disrupt the status quo. Yet, as she dug deeper and uncovered more, her perspective shifted in unanticipated ways. And now, feeling the weight of what had just been revealed to her, a surge of determination welled up within her. If this Matron can help me get back in, go deeper, then it’s a no-brainer, she thought.
“I’ll help you out,” Maria said. “But we’ve got to be careful. If the University finds out what we’re doing, they’ll stop at nothing to pull the plug on me — literally. I’m surprised Zakharovna doesn’t already know that you’ve been tracking me.”
“Zakharovna is many things, but naive isn’t one of them. She’s been playing this game longer than most of us. That’s why I had to reach you before they did. I used to be with the FSB before the War. If that means anything to you.”
“It doesn’t. But I can look it up on my ocular.”
“I apologize. You won’t find anything. It’s been sixty-six years,” Tatyana said, her voice tinged with weariness. “Even now, there are some, even among us who know better, who still refuse to use the old names.”
“But why? What does Zakharovna stand to gain from all of this?”
“Immortality. Real, true immortality. They’re hovering at the edge of a revolution, poised to unravel the intricate dance of chaos at the heart of life itself. The serums they’ve been developing, they’re not mere trifles. They’ve touched a truth deeper than we’ve ever known. And the University? They plan to hoard them, with an army of genetically modified super soldiers at their command. Their own personal Fountain of Youth.”
Maria scoffed. “That’s a tall order. Even for her.”
“They want to live forever. And they won’t be stopped, not when they’re so close to the finish line.”
“And what about you? What’s your endgame, Matron?”
The older woman’s eyes gleamed with what looked like ambition. “Why, the city, my dear. Did you think otherwise? After we bring these corrupt scientists to light, we’ll reclaim what’s rightfully ours. No more living under their tyranny of mind control and false safety. We’ll be a country again, not merely a laboratory for their twisted designs.”
“Alright. I think I see the bigger picture… But what’s my role specifically?”
“I need you to dig deep, unearth every shred of their secrets. Spare no detail. I want it all.”
“Can’t you just show them this?” Maria gestured towards the beast floating in the vat.
“And who would believe my claim, so close to the transition of power? I would be blamed for its very existence. No, my dear, we need undeniable proof. Strength whispers in quiet decisions, not in the roar of guns.”
Maria felt a wave of doubt wash over her. The enormity of the network she had only begun to explore seemed more daunting now. “Going any deeper…it might set off alarms I can’t silence.”
“Leave that to me. I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Just focus on offense, and I’ll take care of the rest. Can I count on you?”
Maria took a moment to consider her options. She was far too invested to back out now. Besides, she was beginning to see the value in Tatyana’s cause. “I’m with you.”
“As everyone knows, the Chair will rotate to my office in the coming month, but Zakharovna is not one to let go of power without a fight. I’ve already received information that she plans to block my Ascension before the ceremony commences. She practically founded Gred, and she’ll do anything to maintain her hold on it.”
Tatyana seemed to hesitate before she added, “I’ve sown some seeds of dissent…and now they’re starting to sprout. The yield from this should grant us a much-needed breather.”
She’s tough as nails, this one. The elder crone before her exuded a kind of grit that came from weathering countless storms, Maria knew.
“Remember, girl, in this world of metal and machines, it’s the wisdom of years that holds the real power. Never underestimate an old woman with a lifetime of secrets.”
With a smile that bordered on mysterious, Tatyana eased the shawl from her shoulders with a grace that spoke of her impossible confidence. She held up a small, luminescent pill delicately between her fingers, and paused to swallow it. Then, she stepped through the sealed door from which they had entered, and into the dance floor’s embrace. The crowd parted for her like a sea recognizing its queen.
As Maria watched Tatyana disappear into the throng, a tune she didn’t recognize drifted from the club’s speakers. Her ocular sparked to life, the neon lyrics reflecting in her vision:
Shoot to thrill, play to kill.
Too many women with too many pills.
Martin Erlic is an olive oil producer and science fiction author from the Dalmatian coast of Croatia. In addition to running his family’s orchard and producing authentic Croatian olive oil, Martin has poured his love of Eastern European culture into his debut novel, Babushka: Echoes of Immortality. Set in a post-war metropolis where immortality reigns, the plot follows Doctor Anastasia Zakharovna through a web of power and deceit. When he’s not tending to his olive groves or writing, Martin can be found spending time with his family in their little village by the sea.
