15. Gains

15 – Gains

Hector twisted the skull-shaped ring on his finger as he walked through the nighttime crowds. According to the crystal-glass tablet he’d connected it to in Pete’s office, he was just a few bits shy of 15k—quite a load of cash to be walking around with in the mean streets of Helio. He wasn’t nervous, though. The drones scanning the crowds helped the peacekeepers enforce the weapons laws, and that meant anyone who wanted to rob him would have to put their own lives on the line.

Occasionally, he saw someone with a blaster on their hip or a slung rifle, but he knew they’d be registered, especially as they were carried out in the open like that—mercs or bounty hunters. Sure, some bangers and other criminals might carry a gun, but in the waking hours of the night, they’d be hiding it, keeping it stowed away in a shielded holster or under a jacket with a static-jammer. If things hadn’t changed—and it didn’t seem they had too much—the Empire didn’t like its citizenry well-armed, even in backwater cities like Helio.

He stopped for takeout—a family-size order of fried, vat-grown chicken—and though he had to retrace his steps a couple of times, he found Lemon’s street and made his way to her building just a little after midnight. When he saw the clock on the door panel, he frowned. Should’ve gotten my level update by now.

As though it heard his thoughts—it had—his system hit him with a status update:

//Corpus Vivum conditioning in progress. Approximately 1.5 hours to complete level advancement. Disorientation, weakness, and even fleeting incapacitation may occur. Extra caloric intake is recommended.//

Things are different with a raw skin, I guess. He was used to his conditioned, vat-grown skins completing level updates earlier, not later than estimated. Putting the thought aside, he reached for the door panel and pressed his thumb against the glass. His biometrics worked, and he let himself in, hurrying up the stairs to Lemon’s floor. A few seconds later, he was tapping on her door with his knuckles.

She’d given him access, but he figured he ought to knock; the place didn’t have any interior walls and she might be in the middle of something. He heard her footsteps as she approached; then the latch clicked, and she opened the door. “You could have let yourself in.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, stepping through the gap. He held up the bag of chicken. “Brought food.”

“Ugh! So did I! I saved you most of a pizza.” She scowled, irritated, as she stood there in her long T-shirt. Her toes were held apart by cotton balls, and he could see she’d recently painted her nails.

“Relax. I’m hungry.” Hector was more than hungry; his stomach felt like it was consuming itself. It made sense, he supposed; Grando’s low-rent thug had only gotten him a snack bar, and the nanites he’d eaten, combined with the aura system’s leveling process, were consuming a lot of nutrients. He set the bag on the coffee table beside a pizza box, then flopped onto the couch. “Mind if I eat?”

Lemon waved a hand. “Go ahead. I should probably try to get to sleep. After we rescued Sadie, Grando told me I could come in early again, and—”

“You’re off tomorrow.” Hector opened the pizza box and took out a cold, stiff slice—veggies and cheese.

“What? Why?”

He chewed while she stared at him, awaiting a response. The pizza wasn’t good, but to his famished taste buds it was glorious. He started to take another bite, but she stomped her foot, so he paused to reply. “I need a guide.”

Lemon watched him stuff half the slice into his mouth and then asked, “A guide for what? Can you please try to strain yourself and give me a full sentence or two?”

While he chewed, Hector mimed taking a drink, and Lemon sighed heavily, stomping over to the kitchen. When she returned to flop onto the couch beside him, she held a large liter-sized beer pouch. “It’s cheap, but it doesn’t seem like you appreciate the taste of things all that much.”

Hector took the pouch and ripped the tab off, exposing the built-in straw. After a long sip of crisp, cold liquid that scrubbed the pizza grease off his throat on the way down, he said, “Thanks. I need to buy some stuff tomorrow, and I figured you might know some places I should go.”

“What kind of stuff?”

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Hector tapped his temple. “Need to get connected.”

“For your, um, AI?”

He nodded. “Need net access. Need it to get access to my eyes and ears. This skin wasn’t wired for it.”

Lemon shivered. “I hate how you refer to yourself like that. Can we try to forget that’s not your body?”

Hector shrugged. “That’s another thing. I’ll need an ID.” He didn’t bother explaining that if a peacekeeper scanned him and came up with his skin’s former ID, it could cause some trouble. Replacing his retinas was the first step toward avoiding that, but he’d need his new eyes tied to a proper ID—one that wouldn’t raise any flags.

“Won’t Grando handle that for you?”

Hector arched an eyebrow at her while he finished another slice of pizza.

Lemon stared for a moment, then slowly nodded. “I get it. You don’t want Grando to have anything to do with your new ID. He could find some new way to gain leverage over you.”

He smiled crookedly, tapping the side of his head.

“Don’t be patronizing!”

Hector swallowed and asked, “You know someone?”

“No, but I can message some people. Phil might have a connection.” She reached for the bag of chicken. “This smells good. I can have a piece?”

“All you want.”