I felt that immediately leaving the scene was more important than fucking around and maybe getting caught by the NCPD, even if that caused me problems later on. I was pretty positive that it would, but I didn't think my choice was wrong. Sighing, I glanced over at the hatbox I kept on one of my shelves.
Wakako arrived about an hour and a half later with two gorilla-sized men, which I presumed were acting as bodyguards. She rang the doorbell politely rather than let herself in, which I appreciated. When she walked in, she glanced around, and not seeing Gloria, her eyes softened a bit, and she asked, trailing off politely, "Did Miss Martinez...?"
I turned around. Kiwi was in the biobed now. I had completely stabilised her, and I just needed some supplies to fix her completely. She required a cybernetic replacement for part of the nervous tissue in her spinal cord, but this was a pretty common and temporary fix. It would get her walking around, but the definitive treatment was replacing the damaged nervous tissue with cloned replacement, nanorepair in a biosculpt tank or an entire spinal replacement; for example, a Kerenzikov installation would also work.
I was assuming she didn't tolerate boostware as well as I did, plus I didn't have a spare one lying in my stocks, so I was just going to get her on her feet. I, or another doctor, could fix her definitively with about twelve hours in a biosculpt tank. A biosculpt tank was one of the things I was going to buy today because I could convert it easily enough to also function as cloning equipment.
I shook my head and said, "She's still alive and will be fine, but her body was a write-off." I motioned to the modified hatbox that was sitting on my workbench. My original hatbox was designed only to store brains, but most Borg bio-pods included portions of the spine as well, so I quickly modified it to those specifications.
Her previous body, I had already placed in a body bag. I didn't want any chance David might see it again. I didn't have the equipment to clone her an entire replacement body yet, although I intended to get Wakako to get it for me. That said, I could fairly easily get a Gemini ordered from Raven Microcybernetics on the black, grey or above-board market. They cost over two hundred and fifty thousand Eurodollars for a stock model, but that would be a small price to pay to get Gloria on her feet again.
If she wanted to keep it, that would be fine too. If not, then I could clone her a replacement biological body and perform a brain transplant, and I could sell the Gemini as gently used for almost the full price. I was definitely willing to spend a quarter of a million eurodollars to make Gloria whole again. If she wanted a cloned body, she was getting one that was improved significantly over baseline, anyway.
She brightened at that, "I'm a little curious why you happened to have a brain life support pod on hand, but that is secondary, I suppose. I'm glad she is alive, in a sense, but what are your plans? For yourself, her and Miss Kiwi? Let's take a moment and discuss how things went wrong on the gig."
I nodded and said, "Let's go into my apartment; it's more comfortable. If your mooks don't mind standing guard out here?"
One of the mooks definitely seemed to mind, but Wakako waved him off, saying, "I very much doubt Taylor intends me harm. It's fine."
We walked into my apartment, and Wakako raised an eyebrow as she followed me in, "If you want, feel free to change out of that ruined dress if you like. Also, are you shot?"
I glanced behind me at her, "I mean, a little... it's fine, though. I'm not bleeding anymore," I told her but thought about it and nodded, "Yes, if you don't mind, I'm going to take a quick shower unless there is anything pressing you need me to tell you now?"
She snorted, amused, "No. I pretty much understand the broad strokes of what happened. I do have some news, but it isn't immediately pressing."
I wondered what that could mean but just nodded. I went into my bathroom and stripped out of my ballistic vest, holster, dress and underthings and stood in the hot shower, washing the caked blood and grime off me for a couple of minutes. While in the shower, I programmed my techhair to its full curliness and restored my natural hair colour, but I decided to keep the length. I liked long hair, and since attending basic, I have been growing mine back out again.
I redressed in one of my business-casual outfits and replaced the holster on my thigh before I returned to the living room with a towel over my head. I did feel quite a bit better just for the shower. Wakako had made some tea in my kitchen, which was nice, I supposed. I sat on my couch and sipped the tea in front of me. I wasn't that worried that Wakako would poison me.
Well, actually, I was a little worried, but things had deteriorated to the point where I had no backup plan but to trust her. In fact, Wakako featured heavily in my "ace in the hole" plan. If she wanted to tie up loose ends with me as one of them, all I could do was hopefully take her with me. I also had a packet of information that would automatically forward to a number of people if I suddenly went missing. I had already updated that packet of information, too, to specify that it was likely Wakako responsible, which would damage her reputation quite a bit.
My first idea for a deadman's switch involved highly infectious pathogens secreted on my body. My medical sense was kind of sociopathic at times, I felt. I had the feeling that it was like a happy, sociopathic puppy. "So, are we sure it was Biotechnica that attacked us? It seems unlikely that it could have been someone else," I told her.
Wakako nodded, "I'm almost positive it was Biotechnica, but I am not positive it was my contact yet. I'm giving him an opportunity to clear his own name. He is suggesting it is one of his former peers, attempting to both screw him over and get something for themselves at the same time."
I rubbed the back of my neck, near where my cyberdeck was, and drew on all of Alt-Taylor's memories that I could. That sounded plausible. His boss died, and he was merely acting as the boss temporarily. His former peers would likely have the opportunity to get information about the exchange and possibly sabotage it. The saboteur wouldn't want to completely sabotage it, but enough sense of betrayal to get Wakako to murder his or her rival while still getting everything Biotechnica wanted was a possibility.
If so, then maybe they were just grasping at straws. I was working under the impression that they knew, somehow, that the inventor, myself, was at the exchange and were trying to kidnap me. The little power plays that I had ignored and most of the questions they asked pointed to that possibility.
If not, then it didn't necessarily mean they wouldn't still be searching for me; it just meant the intensity of their search would be less. Corporate bullshit... it was so wearying.
I'd like very much to burn the entire Corporation to the ground, but that wasn't a realistic scenario. If I wanted to get even, I would have to do it like I had done that Mercenary leader. I'd have to do it in such a way as nobody realised the damage was from me. Was such an act of private revenge merely spite, I wondered?
I shook my head, "Our agreement was that any perfidy and we would release the data, possibly publicly. What do you recommend?"
Her mouth made a fine line, "Not a public release, but we do have to do something. My contact expects as much, and it would simply be seen as a sign of weakness if we didn't follow through. I recommend we give or sell the research to one of their competitors. This will cost them about half their profits, as they'll definitely come to some sort of agreement with that Corporation, and the drug will likely be released as some sort of joint venture."
"I'm done trying to sell this thing. I got what I wanted out of it. I'll release a copy of the research to Trauma Team; they have a small pharmaceutical research division and have four times the military strength as Biotechnica, so they can't really be pushed around," I said after barely a moment's thought. I shook my head and said sourly, "Besides, I might have to resign with immediate effect there, which wouldn't be in accordance with my employment contract." I left it unstated because it sounded like a weakness, but I would feel I owed them something in that case.
Wakako raised an eyebrow, "So you're planning on wanting that new identity after all? Your requirements were kind of stringent — a real person, female, with no real family or friends and a legitimate degree in medicine." Wakako shook her head, "I do have such an identity; she had been kidnapped by Maelstrom and forced to act as a surgeon for them and was killed when the clinic they had her stashed in was raided a couple of weeks ago. Nobody knows she is dead... yet, but it will be difficult to just slide into her identity, even with surgery to resemble her. A lot of things are taste-locked these days, and her genome is definitely on file."
Taste-lock was a slang word for rapid genome testing for identity verification, and Wakako was implying that I would be discovered as soon as I applied for a job using the stolen, well, inherited identity. I didn't believe you could steal from the dead, and she allegedly didn't have any family left.
I waved a hand, "It shouldn't be that difficult, so long as you can find me a sample of her DNA."
"Are you implying what I think you're implying?" Wakako asked amusedly, "Because if you are, then that is what I will want as payment for this favour. Four times. I often have people who might need a new start, so to speak, and genetics clinics that can actually adjust someone's genome specifically are heavily scrutinised by, well, everyone."
I pursed my lips and said simply, "Hypothetically, if it becomes known I could do such a thing, then it would ruin my disguise. People would wonder if I was who I claimed to be." She was correct, though. It was usually only serious secret squirrel types who could get a full genome change for a fake or assumed identity. I'd need to buy or acquire some tools, but I was absolutely certain I could fashion a virus to accomplish the change in a person, even if it took multiple re-infections over a few weeks.
"I'm going to be the only one who knows your new identity, and I'm sure we could arrange some sort of anonymous way for you to accomplish it for anyone I send you, even if I have to send the person unconscious for the entire treatment," she said reasonably.
I frowned. I'd rather pay in Eurodollars, but finally, I nodded, "Only one time, though. Four is way too much, considering how much such a service would cost you if you could ever find someone to do it."
"Three times," she countered, and then we settled on twice. She seemed inordinately pleased, so I suspected I might have gotten ripped off. I didn't actually know what the black market going rate for a genome duplication was, but I started to suspect it was more than I thought it was if it was available as a service at all.
She immediately sent me a digital file, which was a complete dossier on a woman that was named "蓮池 桜 (Hasumi Sakura)." A woman of twenty-nine years old and a number of centimetres shorter than me. I frowned. Lotus and cherry blossom characters in the same name? Not only was the name excessively flowery, but...
I complained, "Mrs Okada, I don't speak Japanese. I barely recognise the characters in this name! I also know none of the cultural referents for someone who grew up in Japan," I complained, "Don't you have any European or American choices?"
She shook her head, "No. How often do you think doctors die without anyone knowing in Night City? You're lucky I had any. We would have to have gone with a totally fake identity unless you want me to kidnap and do away with some doctor so you could steal her identity?" She asked the last with amusement, and I shook my head.
She shrugged, "Then just get a high-quality Japanese language skill chip. The best ones will teach you the language after using it for half a year. Besides, are you planning on living the rest of your life as Dr Hasumi?" she asked, a slightly unbelieving tone to her voice.
I shrugged, "Only if I very much have to. I'd like to resume my actual identity if I know I'm not being hunted down like a dog. I just think it is better to assume I am being hunted right now and leave everything behind for a few years."
"Then who cares? Are there any real objections?" she asked imperiously.
I sighed and reviewed her file again, frowning. I was hoping I could vanish for a few years, then return as my actual identity. I didn't want to abandon the name Hebert unless keeping it would get me killed. I wasn't so proud if it cost me my life.
As soon as I realised that I would likely have to disappear, though, I realised that my idea of going to medical school was dead along with it. I didn't think I needed the education provided. I just wanted the credential and if I was honest, more experience of "college life." Even when I got back under my own identity, I was leaning towards bribing someone in one of the medical schools to just give me a degree. I was sure I would excel regardless.
Finally, I frowned and complained, "Dr Hasumi graduated from a dual PhD, and MD degree program in Kyoto, but she never actually worked as a resident, so she isn't really a doctor. She's also a citizen of Japan, although she has a visa to work in the NUSA. Do you know why she was in the country at all?" I doubted very much that Maelstrom cared that she wasn't technically allowed to practise medicine, but anywhere I wanted to work would, or if I wanted to start my own practice.
Wakako shrugged, "No, I don't. But it isn't that uncommon for Japanese physicians to come work in the NUSA. What does that mean, precisely, that she was never a resident?"
"It just means I would have to get a job as a medical resident for at least a year, perhaps longer," I sighed. It wasn't really an insurmountable issue, and I was sure I could get hired at a teaching hospital fairly easily. I would also have to deeply research whatever research focus she received her PhD in. People, especially doctors, would ask about it and if I didn't know it backwards and forwards, well, that would be a clue I wasn't actually Dr Hasumi.
I downed the rest of my tea in one large gulp. "I'll need a new identity for Gloria and her son, too. Maybe Kiwi, too. Those can be fake, obviously." It was a lot easier to pass a fake identity that didn't have any credentials associated with it. In fact, plain fake identities like this were a dime a dozen everywhere because record keeping since the DataKrash was a lot worse than it was before. Reducing or adding height through biosculpt was possible, but it took a very long time. So I was going to be spending a significant amount of time in the tank before I could pass myself off as Dr Hasumi.
