When the kereznikov was working at its half setting, it was similar to experiencing everything at twice the normal speed, which wasn't as bad as almost three times. A three times kereznikov seemed like a pretty sophisticated version, even if it was several years old, so it was clearly one of Kang Tao's military models and one they didn't, probably, sell to the general public.
I glanced at Mr Pegpig, the pigeon, and wondered. The news seemed to indicate that several Night City politicians were campaigning on a law to eradicate all birds in the city. That seemed... short-sighted. Both my medical sense and my knowledge of history were telling me this. Hadn't Chairman Mao done the same thing in China in the 1950s? And it resulted in millions of deaths due to the fact that insect and locust populations soared?
I laid back on my couch and triggered a deep dive connection to the net. Normally netrunners would only do "deep dives" via a wired interface socket connection, but it was definitely possible to do so wirelessly, and I wasn't intending on hacking anything, so the slightly degraded performance was fine. If the way netrunners normally used their decks was similar to Augmented Reality, then a deep dive was Virtual Reality.
I had already chosen and carefully built my ICON, my virtual avatar. It was a white, snowy owl. I flapped my wings and flew off in the direction of downtown. Over forty years ago, the discovery and implementation of the Ihara-Grub Transformation Algorithms transformed the net and made such things possible. They allowed the Net to be rendered as an analogue to the real world. They extrapolated distances and bearings to look similar to real space. So, since I wanted to connect to the school library's intranet, I navigated west, towards, that direction on the Net.
Flapping to a stop, I entered the library's system, and my surroundings shifted to an almost perfect reproduction of the library's foyer, except there was an access control system that took the form of a stylised police officer, in this case, it was a reproduction of Sgt Joe Friday from the TV show Dragnet, which I remembered from Brockton Bay. Surprisingly, it was also present here, even if the actor looked slightly different.
"How are you doing, Sergeant?" I asked the ICE.
It replied, "I'll be doing better when you give me your login credentials. Just the facts, ma'am."
It would only ever reply in something along these lines, worse than even a chatbot. I sighed, which came out of my ICON as a long, annoyed hoot, but I complied and triggered my credential management system to forward my login info to the ICE. The library didn't even pay extra for the seamless login module, where the ICE would let me through, and I would step inside the library. Instead, the world shifted, and I was inside the library instantly.
I couldn't access everything I could while in person from this net address. Many of the academic journals had licensing restrictions that permitted freely reading their journals only if you were physically present, but I could read quite a bit of their books, especially ones nobody thought too much about, like histories.
Doing a quick search caused a number of books to fly off their shelves and collect around the table I was using as a roost, and I bobbed my owl head in satisfaction. History of China in the 20th Century, The Great Leap Forward and its Consequences, The Four Pests Campaign: Objectives, Execution, Failure, And Consequences, and a number of others.
Simultaneously, I triggered a word processor and began to peck out words with my talons and beak. Although in actuality, I was using my fingers, I had spent a long time on this ICON, and it had animations mapped for a number of different humanoid-only actions. Seeing myself rapidly tapping translucent keys with my beak and talons was enough to set me giggling for a moment, which came out as a rapid 'hoot-hoot-hoot.'
Honestly, I didn't expect these letters to do anything at all. But maybe I could send it to one of the professors at school. There was an epidemiologist and pathological expert there. I got the impression they might either not know about this proposal from the politicians, or they didn't really care because, honestly, the effects on Night City wouldn't be too severe. All of the locally grown food was grown in greenhouses, after all, and rich people wouldn't need to worry about the uptick in bloodborne pathogens that the increased insect population would engender.
Still, if I could present it to them as a no-work-needed thing, perhaps they would use their contacts in the city to do something, especially if I let them take all or most of the credit.
I bobbed my little owl head again and got to work writing a well-researched letter.
I got to the gym pretty early on Sunday and realised that my normal workout time might have to be adjusted. I was running two times as much in the same amount of time, and I was quickly working myself to exhaustion. That was... good, though, I supposed. Although, I raised a few eyebrows at the people watching me.
The combination of my muscle and bone lace and the kereznikov had me running at what appeared to them to be a flat-out sprint for a long time. Little did they know I could run at least twice as fast as that, and more even if I switched to full boost. Having good athleticism and an in-shape body was absolutely a prerequisite for these types of installed reflex enhancements. Installing a high-end Sandy in someone that wasn't in good shape might cause them to have a cardiac arrest if their resting heart rate wasn't already low, or possibly a brain aneurysm if their intracranial blood pressure was exceptionally high.
I saw my running buddy appear from the locker room as I was getting off the treadmill, but something caused me to pause and then take another look at her.
She wasn't looking too good. She was diaphoretic and appeared to have difficulty walking steadily. There was no way I was going to let her get on a fucking treadmill; that was for certain. I walked up to her and took her arm to steady her, "Woah, woah." It was then that I realised that I had never introduced myself to her or knew her name even though we had been running together for months now.
I used my Kiroshis to scan her face, getting an NCPD report that her name was Himiko Masuda, with no real rap sheet to speak of beyond civil infractions. I carefully enunciated each tone, talking especially slowly so that I hoped it would come out at a normal speed and not like I was auctioneering, "Nope, nope, Himiko. We're going right back to the locker room. You don't look so good. How are you feeling?"
"Uhh.. not too great, now that you mention it," said the woman, and I walked her back into the locker room and had her sit down while I peered at her. I had taken her pulse manually, using a chronometer on my implant, as I held her wrist and shoulder, and she was in tachycardia with a pulse rate of over one thirty.
"How long have you been feeling poorly?" I asked her as I gently palpated her body, my focus shifting to her head and neck. The lymph nodes in her neck were swollen, and the area around her operating system installation was slightly red and inflamed.
She coughed out a laugh and shrugged, "Well, I've been getting headaches ever since I got this upgraded doll implant a couple of months ago. There were issues with my old one integrating into Clouds systems, and this was a newer version."
I stared at her, aghast, "Months?!" I doubted very much she went to a reputable clinic, either. "Alright, Himiko. You definitely have a problem with your implant. I think it's best that you come back with me to my place briefly. I'm not a ripperdoc, obviously, but I am a med-tech. I can use some of my equipment to diagnose what's wrong properly." I paused, "Would you like to call a friend to come with you? I know we don't really know each other that well, so I wouldn't trust myself if I was you."
She laughed and said, "Yeah, if you don't mind. Where do you live? She can meet us there."
"I live right next to Clouds, in what used to be that old convenience store," I tell her.
She glanced up, "Well, that's convenient. I was always sad when they closed up a year ago because they had pretty good burritos there. Let me get my clothes out of my locker."
I let her get her clothes and shoes and offered to carry them for her as we left the gym and walked slowly back to my apartment. It seemed like we were not even moving we were moving so slowly, but I realised that was mainly the kereznikov combined with the fact that she was actually moving quite slowly on top of that.
After a short elevator ride and a walk back to my place saw a young woman, a girl really, possibly my age, rushed over to us and askEd, worriedly, "Himiko, are you alright?! You look awful? Who is this? That suit you run with every morning? She's a MedTech?"
Wow, good thing I had a kereznikov to keep up with motor mouth here. I was trying, especially hard, not to think about Clouds employing fifteen or sixteen-year-old girls, as I had detected similar doll hardware on this new girl. Was that just me being hypocritical? Wasn't I doing the same thing, except just my line of work wasn't sexualised, so I felt better about it? I wasn't going to criticise anyone doing what they had to do to survive in this fucked up city.
"Yes, my name is Taylor Hebert. I'm a MedTech. Let's get Himiko inside, and then you can introduce yourself too," I told the motor mouth, who nodded while helping her friend walk inside my apartment.
The convenience store area had a lot of boxes in it, as I mainly used it for storage, but I had managed to acquire some furniture here and there around the Megabuilding as people moved out and, for one reason or another, couldn't take anything with them. I always carefully cleaned and disinfected everything I took, though, as god knows what depravity people in this future did to a loveseat.
I motioned to the aforementioned clean and disinfected loveseat, "Have a seat there. I need to go get some equipment." And with that, I disappeared briefly into the private area of my apartment. I didn't have anything as useful as a combined vital monitor defibrillator system that any ambulance might have, but I did have some old-school blood pressure cuffs and a firewall for myself if I was going to be directly connecting to her OS to diagnose any irregularities with her system.
Firewalls were, strictly speaking, not one hundred per cent legal equipment, although I wasn't sure why and they were readily available for sale in most electronic stores. They looked similar to a wreath, but they wrapped around your neck, and you would connect your system to it while connecting the firewall, inline, to some system that you suspected might be dangerous of having malware. They worked almost identically to the braindance firewall I made myself.
Finally, I brought a pitcher of clean water, a few glasses and a number of pills that I kept in my medical supplies.
Carrying everything out into the next room, I sat things down on a table near them. "Okay, I am pretty sure I know what is wrong with you already, but I will need to connect directly to your system, place it in diagnostic mode, and run a few tests to be sure." I poured myself a small glass of water and drank it right in front of them, both because I was thirsty and to show them it wasn't drugged.
Himiko nodded, and the girl my age bobbed her head and said, "Oh. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Evelyn. Nice to meet you. Thank you for helping Himiko; she has been uhh... I guess a mentor to me."
I nodded at the girl and walked over to sit on the floor next to the loveseat. I pulled an interface cord from my firewall and plugged it into the interface socket on the back of Himiko's neck as information started scrolling through my vision. I glanced at the girl and couldn't contain myself anymore, "Uhh... is it legal for you to be working at Clouds? I'm not judging or anything, but..." I trailed off, unsure of what to say.
That caused her to laugh, "Ah, yes. I'm seventeen, which is an adult as far as sex work is concerned in Night City. This is only a temporary gig for me; I'm planning on becoming an actress!" Oh, so she was over a year older than me. Certainly didn't look it.
I nodded and told Himiko, "Okay, I'm going to put your doll chip into diagnostic mode." This caused her to blink, "Oh, so I will not remember the rest?"
I shook my head, "That isn't a function of how doll chips work; it is just considered a feature. In diagnostic mode, it shouldn't be enabled; you will be aware but not really able to move or do anything for a brief moment." That caused Evelyn to look interested, "Really? How do they remove the memories of when you were plugged in, then?"
I triggered the diagnostic mode and started to say, "Well, the simplest method is to disconnect your short-term and long-term mem-" but instead of the placid diagnostic mode I was expecting, Himiko turned to me and stared down at me imperiously.
She said haughtily, "It is good that you are on your knees before me, slut, but why are you still wearing clothes?!"
I coughed, almost choking in surprise as Evelyn started laughing uproariously, and I quickly disabled the diagnostic mode, confused. Himiko immediately blushed and said, "I'm sorry!"
I wave her away, "That's not a problem, but that isn't how these chips are supposed to work. Nothing is supposed to be kept between sessions." I started zeroing into the problem and sighed when I realised what the issue was.
I finally say, "I don't think much about whatever Ripperdoc you used, Himiko. Let me explain the problems, and then we can talk about the solutions."
She nodded, so I carefully disconnected from her interface socket and said, "First of all, the interface between your central nervous system, brain and cybernetics isn't great. The doctor that put this in probably isn't even a real doctor; second, it hasn't been properly calibrated. Third, in order to save fifty eddies, the doctor didn't download and install the genuine firmware for this model of doll chip. He half-jailbroke it, running it in what amounted to diagnostic mode every time you used it. That's not good for a number of reasons. You probably experienced some personality bleed over, even."
She looked incensed, "To save fifty eddies?! " I nodded. Evelyn shook her head, "We make almost five hundred eddies a day, usually. Even if we only have two clients."
Wow. That indicated that Clouds probably charged a couple thousand eurodollars, or more, to their customers per "session." They make more than her dad did!
I grabbed a bottle of pills and shook two out, and handed them to her, "These are neural anti-inflammatories." I grabbed another bottle and shook out two more, "These are normal systemic NSAID anti-inflammatories, just regular naproxen you can get over the counter for pain anywhere in the city."
