Chapter 19

  Planet Earth. Conference Hall of the Council of Civilizations

  The gravitational platform — a glass dome overlooking the morning horizon, where the light of dawn caresses Earth’s surface, wrapping it in soft gold. Inside — delegations from various planets and belts, androgynous translators, guards in black uniforms, their gazes sharp and controlled. The atmosphere is tense: everyone understands how fragile the balance is.

  Mercury and Mars are on the brink of conflict. The issue of android rights is no longer just an ethical dilemma. It is a question of power, identity, and survival.

  The host side — the Central Belt — opens the session.

  A diplomat in a strict dark suit steps up to the podium. His voice is confident, his intonation honed, every gesture as precise as a note in a symphony.

  “Planet Earth adheres to the policy of freedom and equality,” his voice rings through the speakers like a resonance piercing the silence. “And the results speak for themselves. Our belt shows steady growth in economy and stability — thanks to the protection of the rights of all citizens, regardless of their nature.”

  He pauses, gathering his thoughts, then continues, his gaze fixed on the screens.

  “We recognize: androids are not just technologies — they are part of our society. Their contribution is undeniable.”

  His eyes grow a touch harder as he takes the next step in his speech.

  “Unfortunately, this truth remains foreign to the Outer Belt. The leadership of Mars still clings to outdated dogmas: if man is the creator, then he is the master. And the android — merely a slave.”

  He pauses again, slowly scanning the hall.

  “Such a position threatens not only the future of the Outer Belt, but the entire system,” his words echo in the air. “We hope this meeting will bring us closer to compromise. Thank you.”

  He nods and steps away from the podium. Applause follows — an echo finding response in the hearts of those present.

  “The floor is given to the representative of the Outer Belt,” the secretary announces with mechanical calm, as if voicing a pre-recorded phrase.

  The Martian diplomat takes the stage. Tall and gaunt, his figure seems carved from stone. His face — chiseled features framing eyes full of restrained fury. His voice is cold, but every word carries the same threat as his gaze.

  “We are the living,” he begins, unhurried, but each word penetrates deeply into the space of the hall. “We are creations of nature. Of gods, evolution, fate — call it what you like. And androids — they are machines. Factory products. Algorithms. Shells.”

  He pauses, his gaze sliding over the attendees, stopping on a few.

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  “You want us to recognize them as having free will? To grant a mechanism the rights of a human?” His question sounds like an accusation. “Now look at what we've become. Only five percent of us remain on Earth. Where are the people? Where are our families, our cities?”

  His hand points sharply to a map showing planetary surface changes.

  “The Inner Belt? Taken. Mercury? It was ours. We built it. And now? It’s run by fugitive androids. Property that fled its owners. And you suggest negotiating with them?”

  He shuts off the mic, but a few of his final words are picked up by nearby delegates. A murmur begins to spread through the hall like a swift wind, casting uncertain glances.

  “Please observe protocol,” the secretary intervenes, his voice cold as a machine. “A more detailed statement may follow later. The floor is now given to the representative of the Inner Belt.”

  **

  The diplomat from Mercury ascends the podium. He is calm, silent, his footsteps leaving no trace. Someone in the hall quietly recognizes him — the same android who recently sat at the stadium beside mercenary Yulia and her fluffy companion Charmer. As if in confirmation, his lifeless, cold gaze settles on one of the delegates, and that delegate instinctively looks away.

  The diplomat bows slightly, without unnecessary gestures.

  “I will be brief,” he says. His voice is quiet and even, but carries a hidden threat. “The Martian representative has just claimed that we, androids, have no free will. That we are slaves. That we cannot be negotiated with. That we are things.”

  He calmly reaches under his clothing and draws a miniature weapon. One movement — a flash, blinding and instantaneous. There is a hush, not a sound but a wave of silence that compresses the very air.

  Where the Martian diplomat stood a moment ago — only light ash, slowly settling on the marble floor. The flame vanishes so quickly it seems it never existed. Silence reigns in the hall — death, fast and almost invisible.

  **

  Panic. Shock. Commotion breaks out. Cameras continue recording every moment, broadcasting live across the Civilizations. Viewers fall silent, unable to look away.

  Security reacts instantly. An electric paralyzing impulse tears through the air, and the android collapses, his body convulsing in agony. A blinding flash of pain crosses his vision. He tries to rise, but the force overwhelms him. Restraints are clamped on. He is lifted and taken away, his weak resistance ignored.

  The secretary, pale but still clinging to protocol, steps to the podium. His voice, trembling but retaining its formal sharpness, resounds in the silence:

  “Council participants… I urge you to maintain order. We… will resume the meeting after a technical recess.”

  **

  The world begins to collapse. In a live broadcast.

  [Live Broadcast / Breaking News]

  Voice of Civilization — the largest news aggregator of the Central Belt. The screen pulses with a red headline:

  “ASSASSINATION AT PEACE TALKS: MERCURY REPRESENTATIVE SHOOTS MARTIAN DIPLOMAT LIVE!”

  Close-up: the anchorwoman, her professional expression barely concealing anxiety.

  “We interrupt regular programming. Moments ago, on Planet Earth, in the capital of the Central Belt, an event occurred that is already being called the beginning of a new era — or a new war.

  At the Council of Civilizations, the diplomat of Mercury shot the representative of Mars in the middle of his speech.

  The target died instantly. Official sources confirm — the weapon was an electronic impulse device of military class. Such weapons are strictly banned at diplomatic events.”

  Footage from the hall appears: the flash of the shot, the settling ash, security rushing in.

  “The shooter has been apprehended. He is a high-ranking representative of Mercury’s androids.

  The incident has sparked a sharp reaction among the delegates. Negotiations are suspended. A state of emergency has been declared in the Council Hall. We are awaiting urgent statements from planetary leaders…”

  [Split-screen: experts, politicians, street interviews.]

  Reporter from Sky City:

  “Here in the megapolis, crowds are taking to the streets. Some demand: ‘Shut down all androids immediately,’ others hold signs reading: ‘Freedom — for all sentient beings.’ Opinions are split. Anger, fear, hope — all collide.”

  [Cut to Earth Council's emergency statement:]

  “We call for restraint. We will not allow a single act of violence to destroy decades of dialogue. The safety of all citizens is our top priority.”

  Mars. Security Council statement:

  “This attack on our representative is an act of war. We demand the immediate extradition of the perpetrator, compensation, and security guarantees.”

  Mercury. Unofficial statement by an android representative:

  “He did something we did not expect. It was a calculated act of sabotage. Someone framed Mercury. Someone wants to start a war. But we are not things. We are not property. And we are ready to defend our freedom.”