I was calling it a sleep inducer, but it did more than that. You wore it, and then when triggered, it would rapidly induce you into the most restful sleep state possible. By default, this lasted three hours and would provide all the rest that your body and mind needed a day. You could use a dial to select shorter rest periods in thirty-minute increments, with the minimum being thirty minutes. That would give you a "nap" that was equivalent to a few hours of sleep. That was amazing in and of itself. However, the main benefit was that this sleep would be especially beneficial for your learning process.
Using this device to get sleep would have a beneficial effect on your brain's neuroplasticity, and you would tend to retain the information you learned in the previous day much better.
I had a lot to learn. Not only were there actually a lot of details that I needed to become familiar with, mainly technology and how it was used, to pass my Paramedics course, but I wanted to learn a lot more than just that!
Any way that I could minimise the amount of sleep I took every night in a healthy way was something I needed to do. I think my power agreed with me, which was why one of the first things I created was a stimulant drug. That wasn't a long-term solution for me, though. This, though, might be.
I had to admit that I was still kind of nervous and scared to be here in this world, and any time I was sleeping, I was also potentially vulnerable. Well, more vulnerable. Theoretically, the device shouldn't induce a very deep sleep that was impossible to be woken from; at least, I didn't think that was how it should work, so it should be safe to use all of the time.
Before testing it, I gathered up all of my dad's tools that I had scavenged for in the cardboard boxes, made sure the soldering iron was cool and put them all back away where I wouldn't lose them.
Then I gathered the sleep inducer, and sat in what was my alt-dad's recliner, put it on my head and triggered it for a three-hour sleep. I had stayed awake a bit too long building the sensor can, and I would be hurting tomorrow if this thing didn't work.
It worked beautifully! Instead of the usual fog of memories of my previous day, I could recollect most things I did pretty well. The device both helped to transfer data from short to long-term memory but also should optimise the storage of neural information in a person's long-term memory. It wasn't a big boost, but you'd be less likely to lose things or misplace them.
Humming happily, I took a shower and picked my most expensive-looking clothes for my trip to the Skyline cybernetics clinic today. Every corpo kid whose parents were at least middle managers had, no matter their age, at least one outfit that wouldn't be out of place in a corporate board room. According to some of my memories, it started, at first, as kind of costumes — people might remark, 'Oh, how cute!' However, as one got older, it became more serious, as children were often invited to company parties, and the way you were perceived, combined with your grades at school, could open or close many doors for your future.
It was a bit of a shame that Alt-Taylor's taste in clothing was in some ways different from my own. We both liked dark colours, but Alt-Taylor showed a lot more skin than I was ever comfortable with. Her version of "Sunday school" clothes was a dark grey skirt-suit, with the skirt reaching barely past my mid-thigh.
Pantyhose wasn't really in style at the moment, from what I could tell online, but I didn't care. There were lines I wasn't presently willing to cross, and showing everyone my bare thighs was one of them. So, I wore a dark pair with the skirt; besides, I thought they complemented the shiny black dress shoes.
Glancing at myself in the mirror, I nodded. These would be the clothes Alt-Taylor would have worn if she ever went on a job interview or similar social situation. I was planning on spending a lot of money today, so I wanted to give an initial social impression that would be congruent with that.
The hardest part about this morning would be avoiding getting pickpocketed on the metro.
There was nowhere to really conceal a pistol on this outfit, so I had to carry it in my small black purse, along with my phone, so I absolutely made sure it never left my sight the entire trip on the train. Of course, a lot of people looked at me with disdain, but I noticed all of the better-dressed corporate workers who took the train to work gave me small nods of respect.
I think that in their eyes, I was dressed a cut above their everyday fair, so I was either going to a job interview or a similar event, in which case they were wishing me luck, or I was of a higher station than them, so they were paying respects.
I got off deep into the downtown station where security and police presence were high. They were starting to call this area Corpo plaza, even if it did include the burned-out crater that used to be the Arasaka building. Decades ago, it was totally destroyed using a small nuclear bomb, of all things.
For a long time, people blamed Arasaka themselves for the destruction, but in the 2040s, a now-famous journalist named Trace Santiago published an explosive expose revealing Militech's involvement in the disaster. I had read all about that, a bit shocked. Needless to say, that didn't do a lot of good for Militech's PR in Night City, and although Arasaka was still technically banned from operating in the country, a lot of their subsidiaries did business in town, and it seemed like Night City was slowly shifting towards Arasaka's orbit.
Well, it didn't really matter to me too much. Militech was one of the last options that I would agree to work for. They had too much data about Alt-Taylor. Too much data about her preferences and her study habits and interests, none of which was medicine. The potential for too many questions that I didn't have any good way to answer.
It probably would have been fine, I mean, children often discover an intense interest and aptitude in their teenage years, but it was just something I didn't see a need to risk. I'd rather not work for an Arms Manufacturer in the first place, although that might have been kind of naive as most Megacorps were extremely diversified and many of them manufactured arms. None of them, as far as I could tell, were what I would call "good guys." This world seemed to have an extreme dearth of "good guys."
A group of two Night City police officers paused in their beating up of a homeless-looking man with batons to give me a slight nod, which caused my heart to hurt a little. But what was I going to do? Even my alt-dad didn't have the power to stop things like that. It made me feel like shit to just walk on by while that happened in front of my face, though. I wanted to be a good person, but first, I needed to get the skills, abilities and power to make a difference. Would that ever happen? Or was that just a pretty little lie I was telling myself?
I suppose that man could have been a criminal, but it didn't look like anything but the cops giving him the bum rush out of the good part of town.
Sighing, I decided to put it aside for the moment but promised myself that even if I couldn't stop things like that, I would at least try to avoid perpetuating them. The cyberclinic had a street-level office, so I found it easily enough, the large crystal doors sliding inwards for me as I approached them.
I was greeted immediately by a woman in a nice outfit, and once it was determined I had an appointment and wasn't a walk-up customer, I was ushered into a small conference room to meet with a "customer sales specialist."
Another woman arrived, and she was, if anything, a walking billboard for their products here as she had cybernetic arms and obvious neural cyberware at the base of her neck. I started to rise politely, but she waved me off.
The woman said in a friendly manner, "Miss Hebert, stay seated, stay seated. The notes on your appointment were a bit vague, so perhaps I should just ask you how we can help you today?"
I plastered a fake smile on my face and said, "Of course. I need a full operating system; I'd like to get a cyberdeck as well, also a pair of optics. Lastly, I was considering something that could perhaps help my memory or retention of information; I will be starting at Night City Health Science centre next month."
I didn't lie, but I intentionally gave the impression that I was attending a more prestigious course than I was. The HSC was mainly a traditional medical school, although they had two-year courses for nurses as well.
That caused the woman to smile at first, but then look at me in confusion, "Wait... you don't have... anything?"
I thought a lot about how to handle this question and decided to go with a somewhat brusque answer. I was trying to perhaps imply that I had been a victim of an attack by Scavengers that have a tendency to kidnap people and rip out their cybernetics. Normally people don't survive that, but it has been known to happen. The survivors would generally spend a fair while being put back together by the Trauma Team medical centre, using medical nanotechnology. So I said, with a bit of an affected shiver, "Yes. It's complicated. I'd really rather not discuss it."
I'm not sure if I succeeded in my attempt, but she became much more polite, "Of course, of course. Let's look through your options. Then, once payment clears, we'll have a quick physical examination and can schedule surgery before lunch!"
Originally I had planned on buying exactly what Alt-Taylor had, which was a 2062 version of the Militech Paraline cyberdeck, but the sales lady said politely, three different ways, that it was a piece of shit, just not in those words.
That made sense; it wasn't that expensive. But my problem was I was beyond a novice. I didn't need nor want an extremely complicated cyberdeck. It would take me a long time just to learn how to use it properly.
For not too much more money, I was looking at two options. One was from an American company called Biotech Sigma. They had been in operation for about six years, and every year they would produce an updated version of about ten different models of cyberdecks.
The 2062 model of their "mark one" entry-level cyberdeck was about twice the cost of the Paraline, but it was much, much better. It would cost about six thousand eurodollars, about the same as what I was paying for my cybernetic eyes.
The other option cost about the same, and it was from a brand-new corporation in Korea. They had rave reviews as being especially easy to use, but it was the first year and first model that they had released. I was a little worried, so I decided to go with the Biotech Sigma product. They were close to equivalent in specifications, in any case.
As for my optics, Kiroshi was a market leader. They also refined their product every year, with this year's model featuring, in addition to several zoom levels, a fully integrated datalink and facial recognition software. Included by default was a free subscription to the NCPD database, so I could see more or less the rap sheet of anyone I saw. That was both very interesting and absolutely dystopian.
The last thing I wanted was relatively cheap, only a few thousand eurodollars. It was a memory co-processor that would integrate seamlessly into my frontal cortex, and the marketing material for it claimed that it would grant "close to a photographic memory."
I thought that there probably was a lot of work being done by "close to" in that sentence, especially considering I saw a very small asterisk, but the sales rep reassured me that the memory boost was very large and noticeable and that they had no complaints about anyone who bought it.
Lastly, she tried to upsell me an internal medical biomonitor, and I was very tempted, but with each of the cybernetics I was purchasing, with clinician fees, I was going to be out close to twenty thousand eurodollars today. That was a third of what my alt-dad had in his bank account. It was true that I would be receiving a settlement of about the same amount from Militech, but it hadn't arrived yet, and I didn't feel comfortable spending half of all the money I had in the world right now. Even if that was exactly the sort of thing that I would like very much to have. It would have to wait. I needed to be more sure of my position in the world. Perhaps I could splurge in six months if I could get gainfully employed with my new Paramedic's credentials.
She didn't seem upset; I was sure she was already going to receive a healthy commission on the sales I was making today. One interesting thing was they didn't even ask me for my medical records. It turned out that if you were a new patient or hadn't been there in a while, they would do a complete full physical on you as a matter of course, not trusting the word of other doctors.
I wasn't stupid enough to ask to forgo the anaesthesia this time, even if I was incredibly interested in the process.
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Weapon of Ass Destruction
The physical, consult by the actual doctor, surgery, post-surgical calibration, and in-patient recovery took most of the day, but I was out of their clinic towards the end of the afternoon. That was an absolutely amazing turnaround for elective brain surgery; even my medical sense was very impressed.
I made small talk with the doctor during the processes when I wasn't anesthetised, and he told me a fair bit about his perspective on cybernetics. He was a chatty old man, and I had the impression that he liked to talk, and maybe most of his clients never bothered. I also learned that nanomachines were also widely used in the cybernetics field as well, and it made a lot of sense. Nanomachines were used to completely integrate the bio-active elements in the machine with individual nerve fibres and filaments; most implants were connected to the brain or central nervous system, after all. And those that weren't were often connected to the cardiovascular system, so it was a similar thing there.
Even after using nanomachines during the implantation process of my eyes, they still had to be carefully calibrated. To work correctly, they had to integrate almost perfectly with my optic nerves. My medical knowledge told me that individuals often had wildly divergent optic nerves, where stimulating the same fibre in one person would produce an altogether different image in the brain if stimulated in a different person.
After the installation of the optics, I was woken up and could see very well! But while the default assumptions and simple machine learning-based error correction Kiroshi made was good, perhaps ninety per cent correct out of the box, after about fifteen minutes while I was waiting for the tech to arrive to begin the calibration, I could detect the slightest amount of artefacts and a very small intermittent headache.
