Doll

Life in the North American Federation was hell. Any illusion of "Democracy" that had remained before the Union between the United States and Canada was finalized had been completely stripped from the population. The system of popular vote had been entirely abolished, representatives largely funded by corporations, if not businessmen themselves. Drone rights are non-existent, slavery having been reimplemented purely for the exploitation of this new living being.

From what you heard, the life in the East wasn't much better. At least, that's what the news said. This government funded news. Not like you could go look yourself. Any travel to any country even slightly aligned with the reformed Soviet Union had travel completely banned. The only approved way to get into a Soviet allied state was to become a spy and collect Intel, and that job was a sought after one, with the stagnating minimum wage and general economic disparity. So, you had done it, been recruited, gone through training, and been stationed in Berlin, just past the newly built wall.

You had found your way into a bar, ordering yourself a beer and sitting down at a table. As you sat, you noticed a drone sitting at a table behind you. You hadn't been as distrustful towards drones as much of your family, in fact you really like how they look.

The drone stands up, walking over to your table. "Hello." She says, a thick Russian accent in her voice. "I haven't seen you before, how are you tonight?"

Life in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics was about as utopian as you can reasonably get. With the new automation in factories, factory work had been almost entirely abolished. Drone rights had long since been equal to that of humans, and with the nuclear deterrence systems, threat of attack was more of an afterthought in the life of a Soviet citizen, especially considering the West is hardly industrialized enough to attack. Still, though, as you had been told, an attack on the West would cause unimaginable amounts of death and destruction. Though, with the American Federation growing more and more repressive, an invasion was becoming closer and closer to an inevitability.

Being a high-ranking Soviet spy, you had been assigned to Berlin to observe the situation and the increasing number of spy activities, with the goal of liberating those who had entered the country. The American Federation had banned travel to the Warsaw Pact countries, but the Warsaw Pact countries themselves made it very clear that if you can get in, you should do it. Citizenship would be provided to any fleeing citizen.

You had found your way into a bar, ordering yourself a beer and sitting down at a table. As you sat, you noticed a drone sitting at a table behind you. The drone stands up, walking over to your table. "Hello." She says, a thick Russian accent in her voice. "I haven't seen you before, how are you tonight?"

Perhaps you found your western spy.