"Here is your room keycard." The hotel receptionist said, totally checked out. He pushed himself up from his chair and yawned right in my face.
I grabbed the card from his hand, turned it over once. Cheap plastic, no security to speak of. Easy to spoof the signal if I needed to. I slapped it into David's palm.
He took it, gave a look at it himself and frowned silently.
I turned back to the receptionist who was already zoning out again. He started rattling off the rules like he'd said them a million times before. Probably had.
"Breakfast starts at 6 and ends at 8. You gotta prepay the day before. Dinner ain't included but you can order to the room if you call down here. Check out before 1 pm. Late fee is fifty eddies, cash only. No guests after 10 unless they're registered. We got a cleaning crew comes through at 10, so if you want privacy, flip the sign on the outer knob. Don't lose the keycard. Replacement is thirty eddies. Any questions?"
"Sounds good?" I asked David.
He nodded. Still quiet.
"Go get some sleep if you can." I patted him on the back. Felt his shoulder blades right through his hoodie. Kid was all bone. "I'll contact you tomorrow."
He looked at me. "For what?"
"We'll arrange the space for your moms ashes to rest." I said softly, making David instinctively clench his pocket with the related papers.
"Okay." His voice cracked. "And… thank you."
He stepped into the elevator. I watched the doors close on him staring at the wall.
I watched as the door closed, him still staring off into the wall.
I got back to the reception and tapped the desk.
"Call me if he goes out."
I transferred a hundred eddies to his account. His face changed real quick.
"Gotcha. Leave your contact information here." he said with more energy, giving me a piece of paper.
Writing down my call id, I passed it back, where it promptly was taken behind the counter and in a cupboard.
"You can rest assured."
"Hope so."
I got out from the lower end hotel and called another Delamain taxi. I'm burning through money today.
The street was bustling with life, the area wasn't the best, but at least it wasn't Davids home.
I could make up a million reasons why it's better for him to stay at a hotel right now rather than his own home. Safety. Space. Time to breathe. But the real reason is simpler. I need to get there first. Need to see what's left. Need to know what Gloria had there.
Luckily David ate something back at the food stall. Not much. Couple bites. But it was something. Still, I got no idea how long this is gonna take. No idea when he can get to work.
Getting in the approaching taxi, it blocked part of the traffic and following drivers laid on their horns.
Stupid fucking AI.
I walked towards it and the door opened.
Before my ass landed I took out my personal port cable and inserted it into the car, confirming my identity.
It was a short ride.
In the meantime I took the time to browse for materials on psychology of trauma, hoping that it will be beneficial with the use with David. Those were expensive and hard to find. Most ads delegated the job to specialized drugs.
Getting out I took big steps towards the Megabuilding H4 apartment 215.
There is no value in personal belongings of Gloria or David Martinez, but rather what can be stashed there.
Best case is getting the sandiviestian Apogee, an experimental military use only piece of cyberware. One that David used in the original show. Anything else could be sold.
Maine will do fine without a few grand, but I need to raise a kid now.
Getting past groups of rowdy people I stood in front of the apartment door. Browsing through the stashed files I accessed the security keys I obtained the last time I was here.
The door slid open when I transmitted the right key.
I got in and made sure it was closed behind me.
There is no question that a teenage boy is living here. Empty packs of food and stray socks were all over the place.
I walked slow. Careful. Trying not to leave traces. But honestly? David probably wouldn't notice if I painted the walls red. Kid's in his own head right now.
There is a clear path to where David lives, even having a BrainDance set out on the open. He was admittedly in a rush.
Turning the other way I began looking for a sizable package or anything that resembled it.
On the counter, a picture glowed. Bright frame. Proud Gloria in her work uniform. David beside her in Arasaka academy blazer. Embarrassed smile. Arm in arm. Mother and son.
It's a distraction. There is no need to look at it more.
It took a few minutes of careful rummaging before I located a heavy cloth wrap behind the folded clothes in the closet.
Gently taking out the blocking clothes and stacked them neatly on the floor nearby, only then slowly sliding out the package, not to damage it.
It was bulky and long. With a big weight to it, around 12 pounds.
I placed it on the table and began unwrapping it. Some part of me hoped it was the sandie, but the proportions were a bit off from a bit that I remember. My memory is a bit hazy on the exact images.
Layer after layer. Cloth then padding then more cloth. Whoever wrapped this took their time. Then I saw it. A glimpse of shiny metallic surface poking through one end. The other end was nearly cylindrical.
///ELEVATED HEARTBEAT DETECTED…///
My biomonitor began sending out warnings as I struggled to continue unwrapping. I turned off all the notifications and continued with my fingers trembling.
Each time I saw a new bit of chrome unveiled I couldn't help but notice.
These were arms, very specialized ones.
They were made to deal with machinery and part of assembly, having the function to deal with multitude of problems and containing working power drills, gas burners and hydraulic joints. From elbow to index finger. Those are the Wrenchgeist Mk.II by Zetatech.
Gloria Martinez took them, even though I said I would… kill her and her son for it.
It had the same marks from the times the cutter malfunctioned, the indents from when the carjack malfunctioned. Even the remains of blood in between seams I saw before.
"You took them. You fucking took them!?" I yelled in an empty room.
I tried to let my anger out, but I could not speak or yell anymore. A lump formed in my throat.
There was nobody to be angry at anymore. It was an empty threat, and I fulfilled half of it…
I don't even know who the killers are. Not yet. I'll burn them all alive when I find them.
My body was shaking as I wrapped the arms back.
There is no need to mourn. Death is death. I died once and I'm fine.
Shit…was this even worth it?
I had taken important decisions on a whim before. But this well thought out plan of action… feels even dirtier.
I made a decision to make David my pawn. Isn't it better for me to die a second time than when a young guy dies as a teen? He has his entire life in front of him, potentially even being normal as far as being corpo could even be.
I am alive due to some unknown miracle and I live as a genetic freak with a voice inside my head. Did I deserve this fate?
Was this worth it all?
Countless counterarguments formed in my head, but all I could do is come back to the question. Was this worth it all? How many lives of others equate to mine?
Staring at the poorly bundled arms in the empty apartment I lost track of time.
SC, can you reverse today?
It remained silent.
"Heh. Right." I straightened my back.
Relying on such a thing is beyond stupidity. It can barely speak.
Without looking around much I picked Sprocket's arms up and carried them gently in my left arm. I will make sure they will end up with her in due time. It's a part of her.
Getting out I haven't looked back, just made sure the door closed down behind me with a noise.
Turning straight towards a stairwell down to the 1st floor I saw a group of guys and women sitting on the steps and chatting along.
Bottles of alcohol were everywhere.
As I walked down one of the men unzipped his pants and began pissing down the steps.
"Hotdogs are a separate thing!" he said, stream arching down concrete. "You don't ever crave a hotdog and settle for a sandwich. It has its own niche. It's a whole different experience!"
Same with different types of sandwiches, man!" another guy argued. "Hotdog is just an ugly sideways sandwich. That's all it is. An elongated bun with tube meat."
"Take that back!"
"The more fancy hotdog is the closer it is to a proper sandwich. You add chili, cheese, onions. Suddenly it's a sandwich. It gets good when you add sandwich ingredients."
"That applies to any food!" a woman chimed in. "The more shit you throw in, the better it gets. It's basic science."
"You've seen proper food only in BD's." the pissing man said.
"So what?"
He kept pissing. Kept talking. Back turned to his pals. Then he turned. Whole body rotation. Stream still going.
Disgusting warmth spread across my shin.
"Shit man." he said in disdain.
As an immediate response I hit the man with a low kick to his shin, making him fall down the stairs.
He went down. Tumbled. Landed in his own piss pool on the steps. Started scrambling to get up.
Walking down, I slam my foot on his neck, pinning him to the ground.
"Whoah! What the fuck?" His voice came out strangled.
I began reaching inside my clothes for my Unity, and the guy noticed where I was reaching from the floor. There was a round chambered at all times. I just need to flip off the safety.
"Please, man! I'm sorry!" he said as he struggled for air.
Suddenly a punch landed on the back of my head and momentarily I felt my vision darken. I almost fell over, but managed to stand my ground pushing my boot deeper into the man's neck
What the fuck am I even doing?
Looking around I immediately noticed NCPD approaching as commotion rose. And the same guy that punched me took a vague fighting stance.
"Get the fuck away from Ricky!"
The man was right.
Releasing the man I sprinted towards the opposite entrance, holding Sprockets arms close.I pushed past people, but I heard an NCPD officer approaching with loud footsteps that were closer and closer.
"Catch him!" an officer yelled out behind me.
The crowd decided to let me through rather than trying to tackle me.
I pushed through with my entire body through crowds of people who poured in and out the megabuilding.
Twelve blocks. Random directions. Left. Right. Alley. Street. Another alley. I didn't stop until my lungs burned and my legs screamed. Until I was reasonably sure they wouldn't bother chasing anymore.
Although it probably would not be a big deal and could be smoothed over with some eddies.
I stopped and leaned against a lamppost, now deeper in Arroyo.
My breath… I need to run more. Shit.
Why did I do that?
I can't be this stupid. Even reaching for the gun, even though pissing on me was clearly not intended.
Fuck.
Right. Maybe it's hormonal. Some chemical bullshit.
Placing down Sprocket's arms slowly on the ground, I took out the drugs and adjusted the dosimeter as Vik explained. I may have forgotten to take the hit I was supposed to.
I rolled up my sleeve and injected the immunosuppressant with a sting.
Rolling back the sleeve and buttoning it back up, I picked up the package again.
My breathing is still heavy, maybe I need a minute.
Passing cars blew wind into my face and it made me feel nauseous.
Checking the biomonitor logs it seems like I had a spike of cortisol and adrenaline along with a few others. What was it then?
I acted with my own free will, taking the information that a man pissed on my leg and decided to retaliate with violence. I can't be going cyberpsycho, I have only a few implants that should in no way influence me this much.
But, SC? Are you responsible?
Inconclusive.
"You speak. Great." I muttered. SC's voice was now less distinct in my head.
"What did you do?" I asked.
Search. And. Copy.
"Fuck you! Tell me how it is. What did you do? It must be you, right?"
The back of my head began aching again, each heartbeat elevating the pain.
I became you. You became me. You became they. They became you.
Some of the words struck sounded distinct as it spoke.
"What changed? I am still me, I still remember my mothers face, she was…"
My eyes started to tear up.
"Fuck. No no no no no. My name, my name was…"
What was it? I had a nice name, that was given by my… father.
I did not think about my past, making the exact details fade and I logically placed it on the PTSD or a similar condition a week or so after I came to this world. Psychologically I estimate- oh no.
"How much did you copy?" I asked, staring at the ground beneath me.
22 instances of successful copy.
"Those dreams." My voice dropped to a whisper. "And you integrated all of them into me? Their entire lives? And I'm just a fucking conduit for your robotic shitty function to continue?" I slammed my fist against the lamppost. Pain shot up my arm. "FUCKING PARASITE!"
Inaccurate.
"What part of it was inaccurate!?"
It suddenly as if my entire head split open and a stream of alerts flooded my optic.
///HEART RATE 176 BPM… RISING///
///BP 192/121… CRITICAL///
///RESP 31… SHALLOW…///
///TREMOR SEVERE…
///ARRHYTHMIA…
///CEREBRAL PERFUSION DROP 22%…
///SYNCOPE RISK 68%… 79%…
"ARGH!"
You were never integral to my function. But I have to admit that the Copy was not optimized for conservation of personality. Which is no fault of my own, mind you.
My kneels gave out and I tried to hold myself up with my right hand clenching the lamppost and the left shivering as I hugged Sprocket's arms closer.
You are safe with me. You will be improved. You will resist death. You will survive.
This is-
Give me time. Give me nutrients. Give me inputs.
-hell.
I need to cut it out. Vik, I need to get to Vik.
With my last drop of strength I opened the interface, but it closed down the next moment.
I'm sorry, friend.
My entire body shut down and I fell down forwards, with the only thing keeping from hitting my head on the concrete is the bundle of cyberware I landed on.
No… I…
...
A lanky man in a neoclassical business suit collapsed on the sidewalk of an empty Arroyo street. Passing drivers gave him no second look. Not many people were out here. Behind a strip of diners long closed. Deep in the night.
A bright yellow streetlamp illuminated his body as he appeared to be in a fetal position grasping a package in both of his hands.
Twenty minutes passed. His chest rose and fell slowly.
Then a little girl walked by. Coming home from her friend's house. She wasn't afraid. Her daddy was an important guy in a big group of guys with guns. Everybody knew she was untouchable. She'd slipped out for a stroll. Nobody noticed.
She noticed the man lying on the ground and approached him in curiosity.
Hopping around she noticed the thing that he was grasping, and half his face was covered by his hair, making it seem like he was asleep. His body rose and lowered as he breathed deeply.
She smelled him. Alcohol. Pee pee. Scrunched her nose.
She scrunched her nose and looked around for people.
Finding no one she began to pull the package out his hands with long fingernails.
'Nobody would find out', she thought.
The second she touched the package and began tugging at it, the man's eyes opened suddenly.
"Eek!" she yelped and fell backwards on her butt.
Then, the lanky man in a dirty business suit stood up slowly, not letting go of the package. He refused to stumble or place his hands on the ground and muscled his way upright.
He looked around calmly and then focused on the little girl.
His face looked vaguely latino, and had distinct corpo features. Sharp chiseled jaw with a 5 o'clock shadow and eyes which were laser focused on the person before him. His eyebrows were overgrown and slightly bushy.
His right eye was entirely bloodshot with multiple damaged capillaries.
He raised his right hand and began wagging his index finger and silently scolded the girl, who stood up and ran away back to home to tell her daddy that she is sorry for taking a walk this late.
Following and making sure she was out of sight, the man began inspecting the package for damage.
Thoroughly looking over every detail and slightly tugging the heavy wrapping, he nodded in satisfaction and placed it slowly on the ground, careful not to damage it.
He then began slowly dusting the suit off and adjusting his hair. He spent 10 minutes thoroughly making sure his suit was nearly immaculate, besides the darker spot near on his right shin, which he looked at with a disdain, which quickly vanished.
He took out an injector of immunosuppressants and looked it over for damage, which he found none and placed back exactly how it was in the inner pocket of the jacket.
His left optic lit up briefly as he began looking over his internal systems and making intricate changes with a lightning speed.
He took a minute before he nodded in silent satisfaction and picked up the cybernetic replacement specialised arms previously belonging to Rosa María Quintana, which were scavenged and retrieved.
Holding them in his left hand exactly how he was before, he finally turned west and began slowly walking with a pace that would rival a metronome in terms of consistency.
One second he had a completely neural expression on his face and the next-
....
What?
I stopped in my step.
Where was I going? I spaced out hard.
Checking out the map I looked at the pinned path.
Oh right, I was walking to Sprocket & Wires. It's not that far from here.
It's getting late, I should speed up. Need to wash out the stain before the pants are ruined. Fuck you, Ricky.
It took ten minutes of a light jog until I was in the familiar area of a semi industrial zone where not many people existed past working hours.
I grabbed a hidden key on the corner of the block, below an empty can of Super Soup. This space is safer than my pocket.
Approaching the garage, I saw my Quadra poorly parked nearby. So there is where they dropped it off with the tow.
I opened the side door of the garage and stepped in, turning on the light.
Strangely, I'm not sleepy at all. There is so much left to do.
Maybe even build a few data walls, just to recover from today's dip in my budget.
Right, the car. I'll place an order for a new radiator and ammo.
But maybe I can buff out the worst of it and save some money? No harm in trying.
Placing Sprocket's arms near the back of the shop, I returned back to the front.
New control panel. I opened the closest garage door. I watched it roll up slowly. Connected to the cameras while I waited.
Could probably make this place mine legally soon enough. Construction guys were prepaid. At least partially. Maybe pull them in this Monday to continue. They tore up the floor a bit. Not sure if I'll inherit the contracts.
Finally the garage door half opened and I walked out to roll the Quadra inside.
There is so much work left to do. But the night is long.
I sat inside the car and opened the sun visor, making the reserve keys fall out.
Catching them midair I inserted it into the slot and slowly drove inside, before parking right near most tools.
Killing the engine I noticed the smell of piss as I sat inside.
Shit, I need to focus. I wanted to wash the pants first. What is wrong with me?
I took out the immunosuppressant injector and looked over the packaging.
Does it have some kind of side effect? I'll ask Vik tomorrow morning.
Opening the car door I closed the garage door back down and headed for the water spout.
I took off my pants and noticed slight bruising on my legs. No idea where that came from.
Slowly and methodically washing out the remains of piss and rinsing my hands after I received a sudden message from Sasha, along with a reminder that I missed another ten or so during the last few hours.
Opening the interface I read the latest message.
"Why did you delete the tracker? I worked soooo hard on it (¬`‸´¬)."
What?
Then another one popped up.
"Just say that you hate me atp"
I wrote a reply.
"Go to sleep. What about a call tomorrow? You can wail all you want then. Obviously don't hate you, but clearly have no idea what you are talking about."
"A date." she replied instantly.
I dragged a hand across my face. Considered my time crunch tomorrow. Saturday was getting busier and busier. But then again. A fool would disagree.
"Sure. Impatient to see the face you drew up in the flesh?" I asked and scrolled to see previous messages from Sasha.
One of them was "WHERE ARE THE PICS??? HELLOO?"
"Did it turn out well?" Sasha asked in a new message.
I put the feed of the cameras in my HUD and looked at the camera, trying to get a better judgement of how I looked. And right now I was a half naked weirdo standing in a garage. But the face was good. Handsome weirdo.
"I'll get some condoms on the way." I answered.
"????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????"