A Fistful of Eddies
Chapter three
Victims of Changes
Noodles. A staple of Night City's fine culinary preponderance. With a good stand or restaurant selling a bowl for varying prices on every corner. Enjoyable day or night, rain or shine; a truly universal meal for any aspiring resident of the concrete jungle.
"These noodles taste like shit, Jackie." V scowled as he dug into the paper bowl, making his way down the street.
"C'mon hermano, give 'em some slack, they're in the middle of lunch rush," Jackie narrowly avoided a man beside the shop by stepping over him, "guarantee you they'll get back on their game by sundown."
"Hold ya to that," V continued to dig into the noodles as they strolled through a crowd of pedestrians.
"You know, you can just give the rest to me if you don't want it, choom. Ain't afraid of cooties from a Corpo." Jackie joked, glancing towards his suit clad companion.
"And miss out on a chance to be chunkin' on these Heywood streets? Feels like I'm not a cog in Arasaka tower," V chuckled, "gives me a little bit of humanity to work with."
The streets of Heywood with the sun shining down on them bustled with people of all walks of life. Cars ranging from Makigais to Rayfields bunched up as the walk signs flickered on. It was truly a people's part of the city.
"Speaking of which, Padré and I gonna throw back some drinks at the coyote later. Might fall on deaf ears again, but I still owe you a few cervezas."
V stopped eating and stuck the chopsticks into the noodles, staying silent.
Jackie leaned towards V, "More than welcome to join us. Sure that mi amor would like to meet my upscale business partner." He patted him on the back with a laugh.
They continued to walk in silence until they passed the intersection crosswalk.
"Think you can have the rest of it," V handed the rest of his bowl to Jackie with a smile, "eyes bigger than my stomach and all that."
"C'mon choom! You've never come out with us thanks to that night gig with Trauma Team," Jackie grabbed the bowl and stirred the broth, "now that you're out of it, the city is your oyster past office hours."
"Didn't just get out of it, got fired," V sighed, "guess they hold a lot of strictness concerning help towards non clients. Done it so much, my feet being in Arasaka shoes didn't even help me."
"Yeah you were telling me about that. Man. Attacking Arasaka headquarters too," Jackie hummed between bites, "Martinez's crew gotta be in deep cover after that."
"Martinez? Like David Martinez?" V perked up and turned to Jackie, "had no idea that was done by him. Seen that name before, though. Counterintel department had me on overtime when Faraday was a fixer, kept movin' his file from my desk to my boss' before I could get a look."
Jackie stuck the chopsticks back into the bowl and threw it into a nearby trashcan, "Kid's the legend from Santo Domingo. Just popped up one day and within a year, he was first call for every fixer all the way to Pacifica." He folded his arms in a stretch and rested them behind his neck, "Aye aye aye choom, you should've seen it. Had kids from all across the burbs lookin' up to him. Gave 'em a great amount of hope that a guy from the slums didn't have to join the Valentinos or 6th Street to make it big."
V looked down the street with a vacant stare, "great thing to teach kids. Get remembered in Night City by leavin' it in a coroner's furnace somewhere."
As he strolled, Jackie's chipper demeanor dropped to a hesitant happiness, "hell of a way to go, in a furnace. His crew is fighting the rats where they live, all that damage to Militech, to Arasa-"
"Jackie." V interrupted and halted on the sidewalk.
Jackie stopped with hesitation, turning to look at V. His colorless electronics, though not expressing an emotion, conveyed the essence of natural eyes that were sullied by pain. His face scrunched taut around the cyberware, webbing across his face.
"Saw the aftermath firsthand. If the crews been quiet this long, good chance the corpse I saw down there was at least one of em." V swayed closer to Jackie, almost floating.
He continued in a serious tone. "Only one I saw worth saving might not've made it, even after all I did. Fixed her up best I could, but half her damn limbs were missing. Could've been a student at the academy, caught in the crossfire. Don't even know, not havin' a lot of body left to be able to tell."
V looked down and fixed his stature, walking slowly over to a free concrete bench overlooking the river beside them.
"Not a pretty sight, Jackie. Wouldn't hold out hope of a quick return if I were you."
"Lo siento, V," Jackie sat down beside his acquaintance, "didn't mean to bring up that night for you."
V was silent for a bit, then laid back on the concrete bench, throwing his arms over the back.
"All good, choom. Thoughts like those keep reminding me I'm human." V smiled, letting the heat of the sun hit his face, "not quite as good as walking around Heywood, but it comes close."
V closed his eyelids and his smile grew, remembering that girl in Arasaka coming back to life, taking deep breaths. An image crossed his mind of her body, mended and in a high class school uniform, waving with one hand in the air and another on her school bag. Her crushed face replaced with a toothy grin and flowing hair in the wind. The thought gave him solace, even if it might not be recreated in reality.
"Now Jackie," V opened his eyes and looked over, "let's go over the deets of what Padré has us doing."
"Final stage of strength test 93. Subject One," a speaker echoed cacophonously through bounded walls of metal and stone, cast neatly in large squares. A wide pane of glass separated one subject and a group of figures, cloaked in shadows only cut by streams of light from computer screens. Rebecca stood in the room in front of a large machine with a freshly painted target on the face of it, showing signs of wear and damage. The voice over the intercom spoke once more.
"Begin."
Rebecca clenched her fist quickly, echoing a small clang of metal from her fingertips clasping in her palm. She lifted her right leg, shimmering with metallic gleam under the fluorescent lights, and slammed it onto the ground. She felt the combat amplifier jolt in her chipdeck, shooting waves of electricity coursing through her body at breakneck speed. Rebecca planted her foot into the concrete with force that disturbed the ground beneath her. With one fluid motion, she cocked back her left arm and threw her fists into the target in front of her. The machine shook on impact, followed by a beeping sound from the monitor on the side. She glanced up to the window to see soundless note-taking and glowing eyes, indicating that they were communicating in a closed call. It wasn't anything new, to say that she had gotten used to it over the past three months would be an understatement. As familiar as her morning exercise routine and her set eating schedule. Memories of better times still swarmed around her head, but the one unnerving memory that gradually wore on her was the man named V; the only appearance she could place with a title.
"Test results conclusive, Subject One. Send in Subject Four on your way out." The loudspeaker boomed before clicking off.
Rebecca glared at the glass and gave a robotic nod before turning and walking to the exit. Once she entered the hallway, the line of subjects focused their attention on her, all of them having to look down as not a single one matched her stature. The ragtag group was smaller than the last week, most likely due to failure in meeting standards; this was the most optimistic guess in terms of outcomes. They wore their numbers on their shirts, some clean, some ripped, some stained, but all numbered.
"Gonna hit a new PR today, Dan?" Rebecca asked the first man in the lineup, flashing a faint and forced smile.
"Gonna try, Cherry, gonna try. Feels like they're putting stabilizers in the machine in between people and it's fuckin' me up." The man named Dan warmly smiled back.
"Good luck with that, big guy." Rebecca gave him a soft punch in the arm. She redirected her focus to the end of the hall, ignoring the prying eyes.
In the time that she had spent during the trials, many people opened up to her. She wasn't sure if it was a side effect from the implants, or if the stem distributors were sneaking something extra into their daily dose of meds; all she knew was that these veterans were fine with telling her their life stories, attributing much of their openness to the fact that Rebecca herself would only listen, as she never had much to share. Of the memories that she did have, she definitely did not want to share. Because of the fact that she couldn't recall her name, her small group of cohorts nicknamed her Cherry. Rumors quickly spread upon seeing her appearance that she was cherry picked to be an outlier for the program, and although the moniker sounded like a name that would be given to someone working at the Mox, she rolled with it all the same, as it was easier than guessing.
By the time she stopped her mind from being on autopilot, she stood right in front of her door. The door parted to the side on her arrival, showcasing the cubicle-esque prison cell size of her living quarters; a sight that she'd begrudgingly gotten used to. She walked in and took a seat on the side of her bed, reaching underneath to lightly pull the handle on her small wardrobe. A drawer slid open with a soft whirr and inside sat a folded, plain grey tracksuit, pressed and permeating a pungent smell of polyester. She reached into the exposed drawer and lifted the clothes out gently. She dawned the tracksuit and began to zip up the jacket. A gleam from the reflective metal on her faced bounced from the mirror in front of her and drew her attention to her reflection. Out of all her surroundings that she'd gotten uncomfortably accustomed to, the girl looking back at her still seemed foreign. Her body was nearly split down the middle, half being herself and half being machine. A soulless cyborg, she thought when first seeing herself on her first day. When she first felt the stiff limbs pull at her artificial tendons without the aid of pain blockers, she nearly cried. Not from the pain, but from the shock of knowing that half of her was gone, literally making her feel as if she was out of her own skin. As the pain subsided and she regained feeling over her time at the facility, that lingering numbness overtook the sense of progression.
She shook her head in an attempt to rid those thoughts swarming in her head. Rebecca refocused on her reflection and feigned a nod of confidence, zipping up her track jacket. She approached her door, with it opening on command. On the other side stood Meredith Stout and two large gentlemen in streetwear.
"Subject One." Meredith articulated with her usual air of superiority.
"Stout," Rebecca replied, "t'what do I owe the visit?"
"Heard you've only been using the indoor track for cardio training, even though your consistent progress lets you out on the streets for it. Others ahead of you were itching to get out of the facility, just curious why you haven't taken up the offer." Meredith relayed, quirking an eyebrow.
Rebecca shrugged, "Didn't see the point. Been falling into a rhythm and doubtin' I'm gonna see anything out there that I haven't seen before."
"Still got a shit memory?" Meredith quipped, "you just wanna stay in the dark for as long as you can?"
"Not like it would do any good if something did jog it," Rebecca deflected with a newer edge to her tone, "still on a tight leash, 'member?"
"We might have a leash on you, but it doesn't mean we won't give it any slack." Meredith leaned against the wall of the corridor, folding her arms. "Besides, it's better for the test if we can see how well you acclimate back to city life. We're bankin' on the idea that combat veterans that survive wanna live comfortably once they get back from wherever we send them." She raised her hand and tapped a finger on the side of her head, "if they cant play nice with others, not much point to all this, is there?"
Rebecca sighed through her nose. Her visitors obviously had plans other than prying about her personal choices or worrying about her mental health.
"Can't just be coincidence that you and your entourage caught me right before I hit the track, could it?" she asked rhetorically, trying to pull the truth from the encounter.
"Entourage, nice. Expanding a little vocab in your free time." Meredith dryly chuckled with the faintest of smirks lifting the corners of her lips, "Offer expired, today it's gonna be mandatory and we'll see how you do." She gestured to the men behind her with a nod, "This'll be your company. Got one to check your headspace and the other to keep you out of trouble."
The two nodded in introduction, silently.
Rebecca pinched the bridge of her nose, "Thanks, Stout. Love being able to choose how I work, do you?"
"Believe it or not, I really would, but it wasn't my call." Meredith said, turning to strut down the hallway.
She crooned her head back and stopped briefly, "Oh and congrats."
"On what?" Rebecca asked with genuine curiosity.
"Hit a new PR on your strength trials. Doin' good work." Meredith said without a hint of chiding, "keep it up."
Rebecca smiled. Complements weren't rare in her environment, but that was the first to come from her overseer.
"Said I'd be bulletproof right?" She continued to grin, and to her surprise, had a similar one returned to her by Meredith before she turned her head and continued down the hall.
Author's Note:
Good to be back! fell ill for a bit, and fell out of my groove slightly, (why this chapter is a bit shorter than the last two) but feeling good and getting back on the proverbial horse.
concerning the subject of cyberpsychosis, I plan on delving into it in the next chapter and further into the following ones. Gonna get spicy in the near future. Thank you all again for the reviews and follows, if I haven't pm'd back following up with a review in a timely matter, I promise I will during my next spell of free time.
