章 19: The city is cruel to everyone.
Making sure she was asleep, I quietly got up and headed toward the door. As I opened it a crack, I noticed Mary standing there, leaning her back against the wall. Closing the door, I addressed her:
"Worried I might harm her?"
"Can't trust you. Who knows what's going on in that head of yours? I've heard that people like you often have glitches, ready to kill without a second thought," Mary replied.
"True. But fully cyberized people are less prone to it than those with a regular body full of implants," I answered.
"Doubt it," she said dryly.
"Don't they teach you about the technical and programming aspects of implants in school?" I asked, curious about what kids were taught these days.
"I wouldn't know. I dropped out a year ago," Mary replied.
"Why? Your mother works hard, doing her best to pay for your education," I asked, a bit annoyed, wondering how one could be so unappreciative of a parent's effort.
"What other choice do we have? We barely make ends meet. Spending money on school is a luxury we can't afford, and it's only useful for getting into college, which costs even more. What's the point of going on?" she retorted, defiantly. It seemed the system worked just as it was designed. The result? High crime rates because people's paths to stable jobs and wages were cut off. All that's left is the easiest way: taking money from others.
"I see. But does your mother know?" I asked.
"Yes," Mary replied shortly.
"And what are you planning to do now that you've given up on school?" I asked.
"Not sure yet. And it's none of your business," she snapped and walked away.
I wasn't about to pry into her life. All I had to do was fulfill my request — keep an eye on them for the night — and then I might never see them again. Left alone in the kitchen-slash-living room, I sat down on the couch.
Sleep Mode
I came to in the living room of my own home and looked at a photograph on a small shelf. The picture showed the faces of children, but my wife's face remained obscured, hidden in a fog. I took the photo frame, touched it, and recalled the countless times I had returned here, looking at that picture to find the strength to keep going.
Memories overwhelmed me with renewed force. Mistakes of the past, unhealed wounds — they flared up again, painfully. Could this be called emotional pain? In this body, I can't feel physical pain, but could there still be something left for me? Catherine was the first to treat me warmly, unfazed by the fact that I was a machine. Her interest was easy to notice, but should I try to develop that feeling? And what might come of it?
*********************************
I didn't wait for Catherine to return, leaving her a note that her children were home all night and slept peacefully. I had checked on them several times, so I was certain of it. I needed time to think things over, and I wasn't ready to delve deeper into our relationship just yet. Closing the door, I set off for the lab to see what was required of me there.
The journey to the lab was long, though I didn't feel tired. Such a distance was exhausting for my mind. After getting on the train, I reached my destination in a matter of minutes.
Entering the Militech building, I looked around but didn't see anyone to speak to. A quick scan revealed an information terminal, which I approached.
"Virtual Assistant Aetna. How can I help you?" spoke a pleasant female voice.
"I have an appointment with Henry Baker," I said.
"Appointment under the name Matthew Carrington confirmed. Access granted. Please follow the indicated route," Aetna replied. Her voice was so lifelike that you could almost believe it was a real person speaking, if not for the faint synthetic undertone.
Glowing indicators appeared on the floor, pointing the way. Without delay, I followed them. After walking through a few corridors, I arrived at the door behind which, in a sense, I was "born." Pressing the terminal next to the door, I opened it. Inside, nearly everything was as I remembered it, but no one was there. Scanning the room, I noticed that the container where my old brain had been kept was gone.
Old habits kicked in. Walking over to the computer, I started browsing through some of the open data. The information on the screen refreshed too quickly, but by focusing, I managed to catch some symbols here and there.
"Matthew, I wasn't expecting you to arrive so early," came the doctor's voice, interrupting me. A quick glance at his face showed no irritation that I was poking around in the computer. Anyway, I had already gathered that there was nothing important on the screen — just a jumble of random symbols, likely just a smokescreen to deter prying eyes.
"I figured I'd get a head start," I replied.
"Alright then, let's begin. We'll conduct a few tests, just to make sure everything's in working order. Seems like you had a rough day yesterday?" Henry asked.
"Not as rough as my partner," I replied. Masashi's assistant immediately started connecting several cables to me, working on her tablet.
"The human body is vulnerable, and our brave employees are often the ones who suffer the most," Henry said, though there was no sincerity in his tone. "But let's not dwell on that. Allow me to tell you a little about what we're planning to implement. After considering several options, we decided to install an AI-based assistant in you. This AI will be limited: it can respond to your queries, help gather information, process data, and offer valuable advice," the doctor explained.
"Why would I need a voice in my head?" I asked.
"It will give you some notable advantages. Once you have it, everything will become clear. Besides, if it becomes a nuisance, you can always deactivate it," he replied.
"I'd rather do without it. I think I'm managing just fine on my own," I answered.
"Apologies, Matthew, but unfortunately, you don't have the option to refuse. I'm as much of a pawn here as you are, simply doing my job. I've been given an order, and I must carry it out," Henry Baker said, his expression shifting slightly. Unsurprisingly, there was no way to refuse, once again bound.
"Be honest with me, Henry. How many more upgrades are you planning? Maybe you should just keep your assistant and erase me entirely?" I remarked sarcastically.
"Believe me, more than anyone, I understand your frustration, but please hear me out. You need to use this assistant for at least a month. You see, the human mind is a fragile thing, especially when the brain has already died. Something inevitably gets lost. Perhaps you've noticed memory gaps. This assistant will help preserve what's left and, possibly, even restore some lost memories, keeping you from going insane," the doctor explained. His reasoning sounded logical, almost convincing, as if it were all for my benefit. But there was always that nagging "but."
"You'll be able to get rid of it after the trial period. You can also request additional services, including costly human organ replications," added Masashi, as if trying to calm my frustration.
"That, I can agree to," I replied. For now, I didn't have the power to change the situation, but as soon as I did, things would be different.
"Exactly. Thank you for the reminder, Masashi," said the doctor.
"All parameters are within normal range. Should I begin repairs?" the assistant asked.
"Of course," Henry responded.
Several manipulators immediately began installing new components. All I could do was lie still and watch the process unfold. The assistant's movements were far more professional than those of previous ripperdocs I'd encountered. She paused only occasionally, fully immersed in her task.
New Module Installation.
Protection Type: Dynamic Protection A+ (capable of withstanding heavy weaponry).
Drive: Upgraded drive for high-load capacity, ensuring enhanced reliability and stability.
AI Module: Virtual Assistant.
Additional Computational Power.
Data Updates:
Energy — Battery charge level (1% provides approximately 10 minutes of operation; higher loads increase consumption).
System Load — 23% (AI Module, overall performance boosted by 43%).
Strength — 6 (overall body mass increased, upgraded drive).
Technology — 5 (enhanced protection class).
Intelligence — ??? (unknown).
Lines of technical information began appearing on the screen, displaying the current system status. Opening the "Implants" tab, I closely examined the updates.
"Glad to meet you. I am the virtual assistant, Aetna," a familiar voice echoed in my head. It was the same one I'd heard in the lobby. In the upper right corner of the interface, a face with feminine features appeared, though it was hard to make out the details.
[image]
"So, what do you think, Matthew?" Henry Baker asked.
"Could I be repainted in white? I'd fit right in at a psych ward," I replied.
"Ha, let's stick with the standard look. You'll definitely come to like Aetna," he chuckled.
"Maybe, but probably not," I replied.
"I've completed the diagnostics," Masashi interjected, cutting off our conversation.
"That's all for today. Next time, you'll check in with us in a month. Don't want to keep you from your duties," Henry Baker said.
"Thank you," I responded. Although they're experimenting on me, in a way, they're helping as well. Their motives remain unclear, but I can't deny the assistance they've provided.
"It's my job. We won't see you out — I'm sure you remember the way," Baker said.
I didn't feel like discussing my condition. Perhaps I'd adapt to this upgrade, but I'd need time to get used to it. Now the bigger question was who truly controlled this body: me or the new assistant?
Incoming Call: Sebastian Ibarra. Accept/Decline.
Let's see what he has to say.
"No point in beating around the bush — I've got a job for you. We'll see how you perform, and then I'll decide if you're worth working with. Are you up for it?" Sebastian Ibarra asked.
"I'm ready to take the job," I replied. I needed someone in the criminal circles; in my past life, I had a lot of contacts there. Sometimes I looked the other way for them or made deals — one favor for another.
"The Tyger Claws have encroached on someone else's territory. They've shown disrespect and arrogance, and I'm not going to tolerate it. They need a lesson they won't forget. I'll send you the coordinates. Your task is blood for blood," Ibarra instructed. So, an elimination mission.
"No additional details?" I asked.
"No, just small fry. Their weapons are minimal; it's your first mission. Either prove your capability, or show your incompetence," Ibarra replied.
"Understood. I'll need a day to complete it," I said. Reconnaissance couldn't be ignored, and I wasn't about to charge in headfirst.
"You'll have a day," Ibarra said curtly, ending the call.
First things first, I needed to get prepared. So, I went straight to a ripperdoc to change my color. It didn't take long, and once done, I was ready to continue, when Santiago stopped me.
"Need a jammer?" he asked.
"A jammer? For what?"
"You want to hide that you're working for the cops, right? You're on a shared network; they can easily track you," Santiago explained.
"And you couldn't tell me this sooner?" I asked indignantly.
"I didn't particularly trust you. Usually, the cops don't offer this," he replied.
"So, I could have been tracked easily?" I clarified.
"Not exactly easily, but experienced netrunners would spot police activity right away," Santiago answered. So, did the fixer already know I was a cop? Or not? If he didn't, then why was he working with me?
"How effective is the jammer?" I asked.
"As long as no one's trying to hack you, the jammer's defense will hold up for about ten minutes against an average-level hacker. If you keep a low profile and avoid acting like a cop, tracking you will be quite difficult," Santiago explained.
"How much?" I asked, realizing that without this device, my cover would be blown. How did I not think of this myself, living in the age of technology?
"Twenty," he replied shortly.
"Thousand?" I asked, hoping it might just be twenty eddies.
"That's right, but I can offer you a payment plan: twenty percent interest every month," Santiago added.
"Install your jammer," I muttered. He didn't bother telling me to lie down. He just took the chip and stepped behind me, starting to work on the back of my head.
Connecting unknown implant.
"Warning: the unknown implant may contain malware. It's recommended not to connect to unregistered devices," Aetna's voice chimed in.
"I thought I'd disabled you; how are you even active?" I asked mentally.
"In critical situations, I have elevated access to ensure user safety," Aetna replied.
Just what I needed...
With the jammer installed, I could finally start my reconnaissance. The target point was in Westbrook, Japantown. After wrapping up preparations, I boarded the train, watching the city pass by from the elevated tracks. Leaving Heywood, the monolithic skyscrapers faded into low, gray buildings, and the suffocating weight of the megacity receded slightly.
I remembered what I knew about the area: low crime rate, high housing costs, and fantastic city views. This was where the wealthiest and most powerful lived. On the streets, I noticed heavy patrols and numerous security vehicles. The rich make sure they're well-protected — no surprise there.
Today was just a reconnaissance mission, a quick look around. I only had a pistol, almost out of bullets. There was no sense in charging into enemy territory without proper firepower, even with my new enhancements.
But one question lingered: was this mission a setup? If Ibarra knew I was a cop, this could be his way of getting rid of me. But if he didn't know? People like Ibarra wield considerable influence, and that influence doesn't come from nowhere. He was offering me a service, and anyone who accepted became indebted to him. Refusing his request would be risky, especially with an entire gang backing him.
I'd make the final call after the recon.
*****************************************
"Shit..." I muttered as I spotted a mini-army. There had to be at least a hundred fighters here, all heavily armed. Small-time thugs? More like some serious players.
[image]
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