Chapter Text
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Washington D.C: Gallagher’s Steakhouse
06/11/1968
1:25PM
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It was a challenging time for the United States of America and the rest of the world. The country had engaged in a cold war with the Soviet Union and with tensions escalating as the fear of another world war was looming around the corner. However, despite the seemingly unending conflicts between the two countries, there was still hope for a brighter future for both nations.
This was especially prevalent in Vietnam, where the US were backing the United Republic of Asia (URA) in their attempt to liberate Vietnam from the Soviets, resulting in a “shadow war” between the US and the USSR, who used the URA and North Vietnam as their respective proxies.
As soldiers and androids on both sides of the conflict would fight overseas in a small country in Eurasia, their leaders would often meet to discuss ways to end the conflict, but sadly, because of the stark differences in political and cultural ideals, these meetings would often fail to harbor results.
It would be during these meetings that Anatoly Zaknov, the current leader of the Soviet Union, would take time out of his day to meet with John Sterling, the founder and CEO of Sterling Robotics.
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Gallagher’s was a popular steakhouse for the upper crust of society. The restaurant consisted of varnished oak flooring with black walls decorated with brass art deco lamps and wall handing, all under a white ceiling with small crystal chandeliers dangling from said ceiling. All around the restaurant there were round tables of diverse sizes composed of varnished oak and covered in white tablecloth. Chairs made of metal with black cushioning were also provided, with the larger tables able to seat more than eight people at a time, while there were also tables built for two.
The atmosphere of the room reeked of decadence, an aromatic concoction of tobacco, brandy, and well-cooked steaks was wafting in the air, pulling you in like a magnet. In the back of the room was a small stand for a band of musicians playing soft jazz before a beautiful fireplace, which was composed of one android playing drums, another android playing piano, and the third playing a trumpet.
Outside the restaurant, it was raining hard, and a black Rolls Royce pulled up to the front of the restaurant. The front passage side doors of the car opened and an android wearing a grey suit, and a hat emerged from the car and walked over to the rear passage side door that was facing the restaurant while brandishing and opening an umbrella above himself.
As the android opened the car door and held the umbrella above the car door, out emerged a middle-aged man with greying hair and a moustache who was wearing a grey wool jacket and with a black fedora. As he nodded to the android in acknowledgement and closed the car door behind him, the man and the android walked to the entrance of the restaurant, the man smoking a black walnut pipe as his android opened the glass doors of the restaurant for his master.
Upon entering Gallagher’s, the man was greeted by the smile and eagerness of the maitre’d, who was standing at a tall oak podium. He was a skinny young man with dark skin and military cut hair. He was wearing a white long-sleeved shirt with black slacks and black shoes. The maitre’d also was wearing white gloves and was donning a maroon apron over his waist with the name of the restaurant embroidered on the front.
“Ah! Monsieur Sterling! Welcome back!” The maitre’d greeted Sterling with a polite bow. “It is good to see you again. Surviving the elements today, no?”
“Honestly Lionel, with how the temperature’s back in Beacon City, all this rain’s a good change of pace.” Sterling replied with a sigh as he shook Lionel’s hand, the android behind him shaking his umbrella outside before he joined his master and removed his coat. “Is the table ready for us?”
“But of course Monsieur!” Lionel replied as he walked over to his podium and picked up a menu before he walked Sterling and his android through the restaurant. “Monsieur Zaknov had arrived just moments before you did and will be delighted to know of your arrival.”
As they reached the rear of the restaurant, Sterling, who was donning a navy-blue one-piece suit with a blue tie, followed Lionel to a small round table at the rear corner of the restaurant, where a lone man was already seated and was writing in a maroon leather-bound notebook. The man was also middle aged like John, but he had pale skin and a distinct mole on his forehead as well as black oiled back hair, and a broad face which was donning a long-pointed moustache. He was wearing a dark grey suit with a red striped tie and a brooch depicting the infamous hammer and sickle of the Soviet Union.
“Pardon me, Monsieur Zaknov, but Monsieur Sterling has arrived.” Lionel announced to Zaknov, who looked up to see Lionel gesture to John Sterling. Zaknov smiled as he closed his notebook and placed it in a briefcase that was sitting next to him and placed his pen in his breast pocket before he stood up and approached Sterling.
“John!” Zaknov greeted Sterling as they shook hands before Zaknov pulled Sterling in for a hug, the American robotics titan wheezed from the hug as he patted Zaknov on the back. “How are you comrade?” It’s been too long, and you look…eh how do they say… “long in your tusk”.”
“It’s “long in the tooth” and yes, I’m doing alright Anatoly.” Sterling replied as he pulled from the hug and sat down at the table, the android seating his master for him. “The flight was a bit awkward, but so far, it’s been the least of my worries.”
Upon Zaknov sitting down with Sterling, Lionel approached the two with a selection of fine wines.
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1:47PM
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“…and then he walks up to me and our guests, and he says, and I quote: “Don’t worry papa, they’re not *that* old yet, so they won’t die while you’re gone.” Sterling said with a stifled chuckle to Zaknov, to which the latter of which began to laugh as he choked on his wellington. “I swear, I have no idea where my son developed such a sharp tongue? Must take after his mother.”
“Oh, I could use such a tongue in my cabinet.” Zaknov chuckled, composing himself as he took a sip of his wine. “We need more straightforward thinking back in the motherland. Aside from Zhukov, I’m certain that the rest of my comrades are plotting things behind my back.”
“Yes…about that…” Sterling said as he took a puff from his pipe. “I don’t suppose you could talk to me about what’s going on with your peace talks. I know you don’t want anything to happen between our countries, but this business with Vietnam isn’t going to end well for everyone and perhaps we can come to some kind of agreement”
Zaknov sighed as he took another bite of his Wellington. His eyes looked to his meal as he tried to figure out what to say to his friend. As he washed down his beef with wine, he sighed again before he retorted.
“I’ll be honest with you John, if you told me that *before* we got involved, I probably would’ve agreed with you. But with all the resources and support we’ve provided as of now, it’s too late for me to do so, and that goes for your country just as it does for mine.” Zaknov replied as he held his wine glass in his hand. “From my meetings with your President Kennedy and URA President Feng. They proclaim that they want peace, but they also know that if either country pulls out of Vietnam this far down the line, it would be suicidal to their careers. I’m sorry John, but I don’t see a way out of this war peacefully.”
Sterling looked down to this wine glass sadly before he took a sip. He knew in the back of his mind that peace was never going to be an option, and despite what Zaknov told him, Sterling knew the *true* reason for the continuing fighting.
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It would be hypocritical of Sterling to criticize the economical benefit of the Vietnam war on the Robotics market when his company also benefited from the conflict of war. Sterling made a name for itself during the second world war, when Sterling created military androids to assist in the protection of smaller countries from the axis powers. This, along with his involvement in “Project Goliath” assisted with building Sterling Robotics into a superpower that would rival General Robotics and Great Western Robotics (GWR) prior to their dissolution four months ago.
However, it was after the war that Sterling Robotics would focus their market away from defense and more on developing androids for domestic services. It would also be around this time that Sterling would advocate for the creation of the “Android Ethics Act” to promote better treatment for androids and to promote a better world for everyone. However, despite all he had done for his company and country, there were others who thought otherwise.
General Robotics sought to profit as much from the Vietnam conflict as possible, creating more advanced models of their “Minutemen” androids. New Terracotta, the primary robotics company, also benefited from the war by designing and deploying their new “Youxia” Dragoon androids, which were delayed in deployment for a year due to error in their logic processing software. Even for the USSR, despite Zaknov’s claims, their robotics market was benefiting from the war, with newer and newer models of their “Kombots” emerging year after year to support the Vietcong. For Sterling, he was both amazed and disgusted by the sheer capabilities that his peers and rivals strived to create more powerful weapons of destruction…and was it truly all in the name of peace?
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“Enough about politics! Let’s turn to a new topic.” Zaknov stated as he slapped the table, startling John and snapping him back to reality. “So…you told me that you’re working on some…what do you say… “gamechanger” for the domestic robotics market. Have you made any progress?”
“To be honest, it was almost impossible to do so. The prototypes we made were too unstable and there were so many variables that created problem after problem. Harry and I almost gave up entirely.” Sterling said, looking down to his wine glass again before he looked up to Zaknov, his eyebrow cocked, and a smirk was on his face. “But after sharing your brother’s research with me…we were able to find the missing piece. We’ve done it Anatoly! We’ve created a functioning working prototype for our Android Nannies, our brand new “Nanny-Bots” and it’s thanks to you old friend!”
“Wonderful news comrade!!! Congratulations!” Zaknov exclaimed gleefully with a laugh as he and Sterling tapped their glasses together in cheers. “I’m just happy Dimitry’s work hadn’t gone to waste.”
“Well, it was difficult to transcribe your brother’s work, but what we could glean was helpful in developing a new form of “adaptive operating system” for our androids and so far, eight of the twenty five prototypes are functioning better than expected.” Sterling explained as he puffed on his pipe. “In light of this, I’ve reached out to my contacts in South America to build a small plant in Brazil and churn out a handful of the Nanny-bots to test on the local populus. You know, just to get all the kinks out before we release the Nanny-bots publicly. If things go well with that, then we’ll get started on mass producing these androids.”
“Well, I’m happy for you John, these androids of yours sound like a swell hit.” Zaknov said as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and took a puff. “Speaking of “controlled testing,” little Sakharov needs a caretaker and Valeria is still sick. So, I wouldn’t mind volunteering to take on one of your uh…what did you call them…ah yes! Your…er… “Nan-droids” and provide my honest feedback for you. Now with that in mind, you won’t mind if I tweak them myself too?”
Sterling was about to reply but stopped for a moment as he pondered what Zaknov just said to him, in that moment, Sterling felt a lightbulb go off as he took a puff of his pipe before he pulled out a pen and a Sterling Robotics brand notepad from his coat pocket.
“Tell you what, I’ll do you one better...” Sterling said as he gave a warm smile to his Soviet friend. “You can have my prototypes but under one condition.”
“What do you need from me?” Zaknov asked Sterling, watching as his American Swiss Friend flipped his notepad open and wrote one word down in the notepad before he looked up to Zaknov with a cocked eyebrow.
“That name you just called my androids.” Sterling said, his eyes beaming as a smile grew across his face. “Could you say that again?”
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Moscow: Kuntsevo Dacha
6/14/1968
3:15PM
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At the heart of a wooded birch forest stood the Kuntsevo Dacha, a magnificent mansion that was the primary residence of General Secretary Anatoly Zaknov and his family. After the death of his predecessor, Joseph Stalin, Zaknov inherited Stalin’s home along with his station and assets via a will signed by Stalin himself (Despite rumors that the will was forged by Zaknov, which have yet to have been proved true).
The Dacha itself was a magnificent piece of architecture, a large two-story building with tan walls and a black flat roof. The grounds of the Dacha included a small pond, a large open veranda, and a large garden located in the backyard, which not only cultivated a large variety of flowers but also included a small garden for vegetables and an orchard, all of which were cared for and cultivated by androids.
Entering the front of the dacha, one would be greeted by the lobby, composed of a cream-colored marble floor, with light-blue walls and a stained oak ceiling. Butlers and maids scurried about the lobby, either to clean the room itself or to move to another room to clean.
On the right-hand side of the lobby, there was a corridor that led to two guest bedrooms, while to the left of the lobby, there was the study. It was here that Zaknov would spend his time meeting with his cabinet or to handle personnel. This room was composed entirely of oak, with a walnut desk covered with documents, stationery, a cigar box for Zaknov’s cigarettes and pipe, a radio that was gifted to Zaknov by Winston Churchill during the previous war, and a large photograph of Zaknov alongside his wife and son. Moreover, there was a door across from the desk that led to a small restroom.
Directly in front of the lobby, between two flights of stairs to the second floor was a door that led to the dining room, a large room with ivory white walls and brass moldings as well as an oak floor that was covered with a maroon carpet. The dining table in the middle of the room was a long wide table that was made of walnut and brass and covered with a white tablecloth with red edges. Large vases filled with gold and silver dipped flowers sat in the middle of three different sections of the table.
On the walls of the dining room were large paintings of famous “heroes” of Russia, these paintings included Vladimir Lenin and his protégée Joseph Stalin, philosopher Karl Marx, writer Maxim Gorky, and of course, a painting of Anatoly Zaknov. At the far ends of each side of the dining room were doors that were designed to blend into the walls of the room and would be used by the servants to lead to the kitchen.
Going up to the second floor of the Dacha which contained the the master bedroom, where Zaknov and his wife resided, a library, a bedroom for Zaknov’s son, Sakharov, and a servant’s room for the caretaker for Sakharov, which was currently unoccupied when Sakharov’s caretaker had died from a stroke three months ago.
In the master bedroom of the Dacha, which is composed of dark blue walls and a navy-blue carpet, there was a large queen-sized bed with sheets that were goldenrod with a red flower pattern. In the bedroom, there was a woman, thin as a pencil and long brown hair, lying in the bed, her brow covered in sweat and her face writhing in pain. As she laid in the bed and cried softly to herself, the bedroom door opened, and a twelve-year-old boy with black combed hair walked into the room with a tray in his hands. The tray was carrying a bottle of water, a small bowl of fruit salad, and a smaller cup filled with a small cocktail of pills.
As he approached the bed, the woman opened her eyes, wincing in pain as she tried to sit up to greet the boy.
“Come on Mother, It’s time for your medicine.” The boy greeted his mother as he handed her the cup of pills and the water bottle. “Father will be home any minute, and you need to be at your best, so he won’t be so worried.”
“Hmm…who are you and what have you done to my Sakharov?” Valeria teased as she downed her pills and took a swig of her water before she gagged, sighing with relief as she felt the pain fade away into a faint irritation. “Perhaps your father’s finally replaced you with the perfect robot boy that I’ve always wanted?”
“Very funny…” Sakharov replied as he picked up the bowl of fruit to feed his mother, only for said mother to suddenly grab Sakharov and pull him into the bed. Sakharov laughed loudly as his mother tickled him fiercely.
“Now where’s that control panel?” Valeria exclaimed as she began to poke Sakharov in the tummy, causing the boy to squeal with laughter as she did. “Ah! Here it is!!!”
As Valeria stopped and laid back on the bed, Sakharov fell beside her, the two of them looking at each other while they laughed before they heard the sound of a car horn from outside. Quickly, Sakharov's head shot up from the bed, his eyes wide as dinner plates as he popped out of the bed and looked to his mother, a large smile stretched on his face.
“Father’s home!!!” Sakharov exclaimed as he rushed out the bedroom door, stopping to return and clean up the mess he and his mother made, before he rushed down the hallway like a bullet, passing by several maids and a butler, who smiled warmly at the sight of Sakharov’s excitement for his father’s return.
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By the time Sakharov rushed down the stairs of the Dacha to the lobby, his feet screeched to a halt as he watched several androids bring in seven large crates, each of them had different numbers stamped on the front of each crate. The crates were numbered “1, 4, 7, 8, 9, 13, 14, and 25” respectfully.
Sakharov was in awe at the sight of these crates, but his attention was suddenly caught by the sight of his father, Anatoly, who was talking to a man in a grey jumpsuit before he signed a document on a clipboard.
“Father!!!” Sakharov exclaimed as he ran to his father and collided into him headfirst as he wrapped his arms around his waist, causing Anatoly to wheeze in pain as he returned the hug with his own, trying his best to keep himself composed.
“Hello…augh…hello my boy...” Anatoly greeted his son weakly, breaking the hug so as to kneel down to both look his son in the eye and recover from his injuries. “How’s…humph…how’s your mother doing?”
“She’s still sick, but I’ve been taking care of her.” Sakharov proclaimed proudly as he, placing a hand to his chest proudly. “I managed to not only help the physician get mother’s medicine ready, but I also made her lunch all by myself!”
“Oh! Did you now?! Well, it’s good that I left mother in such great hands.” Anatoly said to Sakharov with a warm chuckle, patting his son on the head as he smiled proudly. “You keep this up, and one day, you’ll be running this country.”
“Really?!” Sakharov exclaimed, his eyes wide and beaming at the idea of running the USSR. “So when will I be in charge? Tomorrow? A week?”
“Hahaha…when you’re ready, of course.” Anatoly replied with a smile as he turned Sakharov towards the crates. “Now before any of that, I have a surprise for you.”
“With that, Anatoly nodded to the android movers, who reached over and pried the crates open, their lids falling to the ground with a multitude of thuds. Sakharov flinched at the thump of the crate lids, but then looked at the contents inside, his eyes and mouth widening with awe.
Inside the crates, among bunches of straw, were an array of odd looking androids, all of them were white skin and were wearing blue and white maid outfits with a matching white headdress. But what was most distinguishing for Sakharov was their faces. Beside the pink cheeks and black optics, their faces almost looked human.
“Sakharov, do you remember my friend in America, the one who makes androids?” Anatoly asked his son as he gestured to the Nandroids. Sakharov looked to his father and nodded before he looked back to the Nandroids. “Well, he was able to build a whole new model of androids, all of which use the research of uncle Dimitry. These are called “Nandroids” and what they’re meant to do is help around the house and take care of you and your mother when I’m away at work.”
“Well…I guess they can help, but *I’m* still the one in charge of taking care of mother.” Sakharov snorted proudly to his father, who laughed in delight, before Sakharov approached the Nandroids. “So…how do they work?”
“That depends…” Anatoly asked his son, gesturing to the Nandroids. “Which one do you want to activate first?”
Sakharov approached the Nandroids and placed his hand on his chin, tapping it as he looked to each Nandroid carefully. Anatoly watched this with amusement, watching as his son looked over each Nandroid carefully and methodically. They all looked the same, all the way down to the hair, but to little Sakharov, this decision was not to be taken lightly.
“That one…” Sakharov announced to his father as he pointed to one of the Nandroids. “…the one right there…number…four.”
With a nod of acknowledgement, Anatoly approached Nandroid number four and looked to Sakharov with a grin as he raised his finger up into the air. Sakharov then watched as his father took his finger and gently touched the Nandroid on the back of her hand. Suddenly, there was a small beeping noise as the body of the Nandroid shuddered and came to life, opening her optics to look around before she looked down to the young Sakharov.
“Good afternoon Zaknov Family.” The Nandroid introduced herself with a curtsy. “My name is [Sterling Prototype Number Four: Placeholder], and it is my honor to meet you.”
“That’s an odd name for an android father.” Sakharov said to his father with an awkward look. “Can’t we change it to something else.”
“Of course, you may change my name to whatever you wish.” The Nandroid replied to Sakharov, which caught the young boy off guard. “What would you like to call me?”
Sakharov pondered the name for a moment, staring intensely at the Nandroid before him and then to his father. It was then that a light bulb shot off and he replied to the Nandroid’s question.”
“Roza!!!” Sakharov exclaimed as he pointed to the Nandroid, smiling widely at her. “Your name is now “Roza”!!!”
“Very well…” Roza replied as she knelt down to the young boy. “…hello there Sakharov, my name is Roza, I’ve heard all about how smart you are, and how well you take care of your mother. I’m very happy to meet you and I hope that we become the best of friends.”
Without hesitation, Sakharov rushed over and hugged Roza, hugging her tightly as she embraced him back. Anatoly watched with a wide smile as he sniffled and wiped tears from his eyes.
“So… Sakharov…” Anatoly said with a cough as he composed himself. “…do you…do you wanna wake up the rest?”
“You can wake them up father.” Sakharov replied as he took Roza by the hand and guided her up the stares of the Dacha. “I’m going to introduce Roza to Mother. It is my responsibility to make sure they’re properly acquainted.”
As Anatoly watched his son guide Roza up the stairs and explain to her Valeria’s routine before introducing her, the soviet leader’s eyes welled with tears as he looked back to the Nandroids still in their crates. To Sterling, Sakharov, and everyone else, these androids were to be a breakthrough in robotics, but to Anatoly, these were so much more.
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Before becoming the leader of the USSR, Anatoly Zaknov was originally a robotics specialist for the Academy of Sciences of the Soviet Union (АН-СССР), where thanks to his leadership skills and loyalty to the Soviet Cause, he would soon find himself promoted to the present of the AH-CCCP by Joseph Stalin himself after he appoints the AH-CCCP as the de facto robotics provider for the whole USSR.
However, despite his intelligence and skills as leader of the AH-CCCP, Anatoly’s skills did not hold a candle to those of his younger brother, Dimitry Zaknov, who was seen as a virtuoso with robotics and cybernetics of all kinds. Dimitry’s brilliance would eventually land him a chance to attend Thomas Holt University, where he would eventually uncover a breakthrough in robotics that would “change all that we know about the android in a mere microcosm.”
However, fate would tragically cut his breakthrough short, for as Dimitry was returning from America to share his discoveries with the motherland, he perished when his plane crashed overseas. There were no signs of foul play, but Anatoly always believed that someone killed Dimitry to hide something, or to ensure his discoveries never made it to the soviets.
Regardless, Anatoly was able to receive Dimitry’s effects, which included his notes on new methods of robotic engineering. However, without a brilliant mind like Dimitry to decipher them, they were all but useless to anyone, especially Dimitry’s brother.
However, despite this setback, Anatoly did all that he could to utilize even a shred of Dimitry’s research and utilize it, so as to help Anatoly ensure that his brother’s research would live on. This would result in the discovery of the adaptive operating software that would be used by John Sterling’s Nandroids.
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“Oh Dimitry, little brother, they’re perfect! You did it! You actually did it!!! My only wish…I wish you were still alive to see this.” Anatoly muttered to himself as he walked over to one of the Nandroids and placed his hand on its shoulder, tears ran down his cheeks as he smiled at the Nandroid, seeing his reflection in the offline optics. “Mark my words little brother, This breakthrough will change our nation for the better…I can feel it! I know it!”
Lo and behold, seven years later, he was wrong.
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