LVI - Polina Novikov

The ocean off the coast of what used to be Manhattan was also not blue. It was the color of a bruised plum, stagnant and choked with anaerobic bacteria that constantly belched invisible plumes of hydrogen sulfide into the suffocating air. The blonde naked Special Service girl Polina Novikov, **** Assintent Atmospheric Engineer for the New Order Arcology, stood at the glass observation deck of the Empire State Spire. Her heritage was etched into the sharp angles of her face and the pale, almost translucent quality of her skin, a stark contrast to her blue eyes and the the toxic haze swirling below. The New Order had prized her specific genetic lineage for its supposed cold-weather adaptability, yet they had stripped away her autonomy, reducing the daughter of a Siberian engineering family to a number in their atmospheric algorithms, her Russian name now merely a tag on the inventory list of state-owned assets.

The heavy metal collar around Polina's neck was secured by a thick steel chain bolted directly to the ground beneath her feet. She could feel its weight, a constant reminder of her status as property of the state. The chain rattled softly whenever she moved, a sound that had become as familiar to her as her own heartbeat. She wasn't looking at the sky, because there was no sky to see—only a churning ceiling of ash and mustard-yellow smog pressing against the transparent, multi-layered PTFE polymers of the Greater Manhattan Protection.

The Arcology was a marvel of desperation. A sprawling, aerodynamic geodesic blister of brilliant white and mirrored surfaces that entirely encased the island. It was designed avoiding flat edges, a necessary architectural evolution to deflect the four-hundred-kilometer-per-hour hypercanes that regularly scoured the eastern seaboard. Suddenly, a low-frequency hum vibrated through the floorboards. The warning lights along the lab wall flashed amber.

"Warning for Assintent. Category 4 Sulfate Squall approaching from the Mid-Atlantic sector. Ambient exterior temperature: 56°C. Commencing localized meteorological mitigation." The automated voice of the New Order Citadel’s AI echoed through the observation deck. It was becoming increasingly common for pressure pipes inside the city to burst, causing chaos in certain streets and creating veritable mini-storms.

Polina tapped the glass of the datapad, a chain falling between her breasts. "May this **** see the perimeter defenses for logs, Master System?" She muttered.

Down at the southern tip of the island—where Battery Park used to be—six monolithic, heavily armored towers whirred to life. These were the Cloud Seeders. With a deafening sequence of pneumatic thumps that Polina could feel even through the vibration-dampened floors, the towers fired massive payloads of pulverized calcium carbonate and alkaline salts high into the toxic clouds above the Arcology.

Outside the glass, the dark, acidic storm clouds suddenly bloomed with chalk-white explosions. The chemical reaction was instantaneous. The alkaline dust bonded with the lethal concentrations of sulfuric acid in the air, neutralizing it before it could eat through the city’s shielding.

When the rain finally hit the Arcology, it wasn't the metal-dissolving acid that had wiped out the old world. It was a thick, grayish slurry of neutralized salts and warm water, sliding harmlessly down the albedo-coated exterior of the barrier and into the deep-earth drainage trenches.

"This **** Reports that the Storm was deflected," Polina breathed a sigh of relief, though she didn't relax. Mitigation was only half the battle; breathing was the other....