It's been way too long since I've been stuck in Viktor Vektor's clinic. It's been torturous to be forced to stay in a single position all day. And I have to be a silent guy in the back when other patients come by.
But at least I saw what Vik usually does, and it mostly looks like charity work, including for the joytoys that work on Jig Jig Street. Misty came by often to help out, but most of the time she stayed in her shop.
I truly feel sorry he has to deal with the bullshit that happens to me. But I did a few things that needed to be done in the meantime.
There was no way I could not inform Yoko about what happened to Sasha, mostly because I needed her help confirming there was no one coming after us from Biotechnica. Inside the BBS I couldn't discern many emotions from her oil-painting-like avatar, but she did promise to look into her corp channels if there was a lead to us. Mostly for Sasha, since she has some very unique features.
At least unique to me. I don't really see many people who theme their whole look around being a cat, even to the point of installing retractable claws in her fingers, as I found out. Whiskers of EMP threading may have been a dead giveaway she really likes cats. Security cameras were out, but there were bots and robots that could have recovered footage of our faces. I should have kept my mask on, but now it's out there in the building since I decided to throw it on the ground.
I don't know if they will go all the way to find someone based on DNA, but I'm pretty sure no official has my identity, including DNA and face. But there is always an option of going for a face change if that happens, I'm not particularly attached.
But I have to say, the scandal about the painkiller that included gradual neurodegeneration is still a big thing in the news, because it was still being sold and widely used to this day. It caused a big dip in their share prices. Vik even threw out the entire stock of the painkiller he had. I should have shorted it and made some money.
Disregarding the speculations, the dreams did not occur again tonight. Which was worse than if it did happen, since for now our leads are that they occur after injuries, which is a wild guess that could be a coincidence.
I spent my time making bricks and selling them as usual, but it's time to expand my possibilities, so I decided to pivot from purely pumping out data walls for sale and aim for creation of my own ICE. That means I now have to focus on making the daemons that will activate on certain conditions and cause issues to the attacker.
From what I gathered from listing details, most of the ICE on the market worked using a very dumbed-down AI that was constantly searching for intruders and then sent out daemons. But the file size and the processing power required were several times higher even when on standby.
That's why I decided on making my own detection tools that are not AI, since it clearly worked only if the AI was smart enough to detect even a slightly differentiated way of attack. But the development of this complicated tool is a project that will take me weeks no less.
Sitting back in Vik's clinic was nice with meals delivered, but I had things to do besides recovering.
"Vik?"
Vik turned around from his chair, looking away from another boring boxing match of two borged-out giants.
"What is it?"
"Why is your clinic trashed?"
"I got everything important in order."
I pointed straight at the small pile of crushed cans and food packages near the punching bag.
"I swear I saw this exact trash weeks ago."
"I'll get to it."
"Isn't it bad for the potential contamination?"
"It's far enough away. And, if you notice, this basement has a proper air disinfection unit running every day and every hour. Why is it a problem with you?"
"I just never had the time to sit and properly look around."
"And you will have to stay like that for a while."
"I think I'm good enough to walk around."
Vik was grouchy, but it ultimately was not up to him what the patient decides, and he let me go. Misty was kind enough to get me an old pair of shoes from somewhere, and I got outside.
I still owe Vik money, but I will get to it later. Getting my gear back on me, I noticed that the assault rifle Copperhead I bought from Roffman had a cracked barrel already. I knew 500 eddies was too cheap, so I was better off buying a plastic gun from Slaught-O-Matic.
I began walking around with missing toes, which turns out to be a huge deal when you walk. Can manage without them.
First I needed to visit Sasha in the hospital. She still hasn't replied to me.
When I took the NCART ride to the hospital, it was right when the students rode the metro to the Arasaka Academy. I decided to stroll through the carts, hopefully catching David, but there was no such luck and I looked like a creep eyeing the students. But finding David on its own wouldn't be hard. It was a matter of curiosity.
I still haven't decided what to do with him. Make him into a subordinate? I'd rather have the Sandevistan he will have if I can handle it. But the guy is special after all.
Fuck it. I sat back down in the metro for the rest of the ride.
Getting to the hospital, I noticed that because it wasn't dead of the night it was way, way livelier, with plenty of people going in and out of the hospital, mostly rich folks.
Multiple AVs, both private and medical, flew over my head and landed somewhere on the building.
Getting inside, I immediately got stopped by two security guards, prompting me to deposit my weapons. I did so. I wondered if this building was equipped with scanners.
Getting to the reception area, I noticed that this time a man in shiny silver skin replacement sat there. There was a bit of a line, so I waited, staring mostly at the holo ads flying on the walls.
During the wait of people paying their bills and asking if certain doctors were in, I decided to run a sneaky ping, and it turns out even this room had pods with robots hidden in the walls. Well, in a world full of death even hospitals are like fortresses.
When I got to the counter, I stepped up. The scanner flashed across my face and the receptionist apologized.
"Our equipment seems to be malfunctioning. What can we help you with today?"
"I came to visit a patient. Sasha Yakovleva. Name is Caelen Smith."
The man pressed some buttons and seemingly pulled up her information.
"I have to inform you that the family member of the patient is scheduled to arrive within the hour. A doctor will arrive after that to inform you about the patient's current condition. Please follow to Room 153, a nurse will escort you there."
As soon as he finished, a male nurse gestured toward the door to the wing where Sasha was.
"Thank you."
"Please."
Getting there, I thought about what to say to Sasha's sister, who was probably the one coming here. Probably should clear up the obvious from the get-go.
Finally arriving, the door automatically opened to the somewhat cramped room where Sasha stayed, now with more machines and even a piss bag next to her. All plastered in logos.
I nodded to the nurse and entered. The door quickly closed behind me.
"Quit faking it, get up."
"..."
Worth a try. Even if it works once in a thousand times.
I walked up and sat in a nearby chair. Sitting down slowly to not cause pain in my ribs.
Sasha looked peacefully asleep more than anything, and her vitals looked normal. But they don't use a piss bag unless a patient cannot do it themselves.
Turns out the purple outline around her eyes is not makeup since it's still there. Similar to Rebecca then, permanently changing pigment. I'm not even sure her face is natural flesh.
I decided against poking her in the face despite my curiosity.
Sitting there, I noticed the urge to pee and got up to leave for a minute.
As soon as I reached the door, it opened. A woman in NCPD uniform with a blunt bob haircut, thick eyebrows, and a metallic chin stood right before me. I could see the resemblance. Tag read SG Ramos. Scanning her face confirmed her identity.
"First of all, give me a minute, gotta piss. Be right back." The woman glanced quickly past me and saw Sasha on the hospital bed, rushing to her with big steps, sidestepping me.
I saw her ball up her fist for a moment. Shit. Maybe be more polite, you asshole.
As I went to piss, it became a strangely uncomfortable experience seeing a clean bathroom after this much time. But the ads for drugs flicking on the bathroom mirror did spring me back.
After returning from the bathroom, the woman was already standing beside Sasha's bed, arms folded, NCPD jacket tossed on the chair. She studied Sasha with a rigid expression that looked carved in place.
She approached with a slow, measured step, waiting.
"First questions to get out of the way. First, I did not personally involve Sasha with anything that led to this. Second, no we are not in a relationship. Name is Caelen, by the way, officer."
There was an immediate answer.
"You were the one to get her here?"
"Got here as early as I could."
She walked up and offered her hand in a handshake.
"Stella Yakovleva. I'm thankful to see my little sister alive."
I shook her hand. And we exchanged holos in the moment.
"Me too."
I took my hand away.
Stella asked me right after.
"Any idea why it took the hospital almost two days to contact me?"
"Sorry to say, but I could only afford basic emergency care. That's probably the reason."
"Huh. You know the guys she runs with?"
"We've met once or twice."
"I'm going to shake them for everything they've got and get you paid back."
"I was going to do that myself. No need. I'm sure they have money."
"Still…" Stella said and rubbed her eyes in stress.
The door opened and a familiar doctor walked in. She held a datapad in her hands and was quick to interrupt.
"I will now inform you two about the current condition and next steps that will need to be taken. No time for repetition."
"This display shows the path of the projectile. Entry was at the right posterior side, a few centimeters below the scapular ridge. Exit was at the anterior portion, two ribs lower."
The hologram highlighted the line in a cold red thread.
"The round shattered the right side of the eighth thoracic vertebra and displaced several fragments into the spinal canal."
The canal expanded, revealing suspended bone shards. I felt my stomach clench. Looked like something after a car crash.
"This created immediate compression on the neural column. The cord was not severed completely. That is why we are treating this aggressively."
I tilted my chin up a little. "Bleeding status."
She nodded and expanded the image. Pockets of red bloomed along the canal.
"After the bone burst, the canal filled with blood, then inflammatory edema. The canal cannot expand. Pressure rises rapidly around neural tissue. Without intervention the result is necrotic damage within hours. We induced coma to slow metabolic load and prevent reflex spasms."
My jaw tightened. "Condition of T seven and T eight bones."
"T eight has a fractured dorsal body. T seven has hairline fractures. Posterior arches intact. Cord conduction is incomplete but present."
The hologram changed again. Three synthetic models appeared.
"These are the reconstruction packages."
The first model glowed softly.
"Standard reinforced vertebral graft. Replacement of T seven and T eight. Walking is possible with extended therapy."
The second appeared.
"Neural reinforced column. Incorporates conduction bridges. Likely near normal ambulation."
Then the third.
"Full synthetic spinal section. Replacement of T seven through T ten. Motor bundles included. Highest function but requires permanent calibration sessions with all cyberware below the injury point, including legs. We have a program that offers that service."
Stella's voice was low, strained. "Realistic chance she walks again?"
"Walking depends on intervention. Without reconstruction her chances are minimal."
I didn't look away from the hologram.
"When edema decreases. Two to four days. Possibly longer if cytokine response spikes."
I turned to Sasha. The shallow movement of her chest under the blankets.
"Could she wake up sooner?" Stella asked.
"It is possible but not recommended. Premature awakening could worsen the damage. We offer the best possible outcomes in a reconstruction."
"What are the long term outcomes with one?" I asked.
She pulled up another chart. "Intermediate reconstruction offers high recovery for ambulation but comes at additional cost and is included in the premium package. Full synthetic section offers full function. Without surgery, the prognosis is limited."
She closed the projection.
"We will wait for the family decision. There is no emergency now. The patient is stable."
Stella nodded once. "Thank you. I will decide soon."
The doctor left, closing the room into silence again.
Stella sat back, exhaling slowly. I could practically feel the heat bleeding off her nerves.
I rested my elbows on my knees. "I can stay for a while. If you want to talk things through."
She glanced at me sideways. "I appreciate that. I need a moment to think."
"Take your time."
I settled back into my chair. Machines hummed. Lights hummed. The air system hummed.
Stella sat beside Sasha, holding her hand like she was afraid it might disappear if she loosened her grip. That rigid police posture of hers stayed, but it was barely holding.
I reached for my deck, opened it, slid into silent mode. Coding gave my brain something sharp to hold on to. Something structured. Something predictable. I needed that right now.
I started building a new brick. I tried burying the offensive module deeper into the wall, threading it through density nodes so no scan would see it unless it activated. Trigger calibration was hell. Too sensitive, it blew on a handshake. Too dull, it never fired.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Felt the ache behind my eyes. Everything inside me felt wired and exhausted at the same time. This was surely no place for this.
Then Sasha mumbled.
A faint, trembling breath of sound that cut through everything.
Her lips moved. Fingers twitched under the sheets. The neural readout spiked with a slight beep.
Stella snapped upright. "Sasha?"
I watched the monitor. "Dream activity."
"How do you know?"
"It's self explanatory. I think."
Stella sat back down.
"Have you seen the news lately?"
"About the Biotechnica scandal? I've heard."
No need to tell her I was there when it was uploaded to the NET.
"That drug killed our mother."
"...I'm sorry to hear that. I didn't know."
There was a minute of silence as she looked at Sasha. Her face was full of anger and sadness. Sasha still held a peaceful expression on her face.
"Sasha published it, didn't she?"
Looking at her in the uniform, I considered for a moment what to say.
"...Yes... yes she did."
Stella leaned over Sasha's legs.
"Could you please leave?"
"I understand. Take care."
I stood up and left the room, only hearing the quiet sobbing from outside.
She is a good sister.
Standing outside, a nurse noticed me.
"You may not leave the patient's room on your own, please go back inside or call an escort using the console inside."
"I was just leaving."
Checking my messages, I noticed that I got a missed call from Sprocket.
Going outside, I called her.
"Hello?"
"Come to the shop today."
"Why?"
"Because."
And then I was promptly hung up on.
Ok then, time to find out. This was the first time Sprocket contacted me like that. It's not about the debt, is it? Fuck.
Sorry Vik, seems like I will be moving a lot.
When I got there I saw that now even the area around it was cleaned up, the garage was wide open, and then I saw Sprocket under her Quadra, which finally received new body parts that were previously beaten up badly.
As soon as I came near, I connected to the new cameras, which were actually older models but in good condition. Still no turret.
Cameras turned to me and moments later Sprocket slid out from under the car, throwing the wrench to the side and sitting up.
She seemed to have completely ditched her bandana, no longer covering her fully cybernetic mouth and jaw.
"Can the crew go into your room?" Sprocket said and stood up, grabbing a rag from her pocket and wiping off her forehead from the sweat.
"What? I don't think I have anything left there anyway. Do you really need permission for that? It's on your property."
"You make traps and shit without me knowing. I don't want to take a risk like that."
"Oh, sorry. None in the room. They were useful though."
"Yeah they were..."
"You needed me just for that? The room is basically empty. I thought this was about the debt."
"I'm selling this place."
"I know."
"Do you know how long it has been since Wires and I opened this place up?"
What is going on?
"Hmm? No clue. Ten, fifteen years?"
"Twenty four. Before that rotten bastard Nick showed up I had something to do with my husband."
"Gross details."
"Oh ha ha. It's been work for me every single day for the last few years, and I think I've had enough."
"For retirement? That's good to hear."
"I'm planning to move out of this city."
"Good?"
"Listen!" she said and pointed her finger.
"Ok ok damn."
"I'm moving back to Cuba. So I'm selling all my shit. I have been thinking a lot, and there is nothing left for me in this city, even revenge. I couldn't have done it without you and your stupid traps. So you can have this car, I don't want to ever interact with customers ever again."
"That's nice? Thank you."
"I hired mercs to kill him two times. He was a slippery rat and you held him down for once."
"Did he know that you tried to kill him?"
"No clue. He fucked over so many people over the years as far as I know."
"Did he act solo? Are you not dumping his whole squad on me?"
"No idea also. That's why I am leaving, I don't want anything to do with it."
I began circling the car, looking at the modifications Sprocket installed. The car actually looked roadworthy and not something from Mad Max.
"You did some great work."
"It's not done. I have to sell this place, sell my house, close down on that gonk's insurance claim. This car will be yours as soon as I'm done with all that. I'm planning to install a couple of additions in the meantime."
"Ok then. What about my debt?"
"About that kid, I fully thought you were dying and didn't want to waste money at first."
"Fuck you."
"Oh you don't want the car?"
"You are really cranky."
"I'm being really considerate."
I opened the car door to look inside, the interior was still beaten up.
"I can help out with replacing stuff. With my own money."
"Pay back the money first."
"Give me a few days."
Sprocket went off to grab some more tools.
"Sorry to ask, but what are you going to do in Cuba?"
"It's not for you to know."
"I thought we were having soul to soul."
"No, we did not."
She was still cranky. I got out of the car.
"I really like the idea of some turrets installed on this baby."
"I would have to get a legal permit."
"There was one car with the car scanner jammer that came in the first week I began working here."
"I won't fall for begging. Go now."
I sighed and turned to leave, but saw that Sprocket actually had a small ugly smile on her face.