The cathedral going up in his territory was not going to be a particularly massive building, not in comparison to the truly towering examples of such, or the skyscrapers that grew up in messy rows from Night City's ground level.
Each city block in the Pacifica construction was planned to be standardized, only diffusing into non-standard arrangements when it met the coast or other landscape features that wouldn't accommodate the pattern. The imposition of right angles upon the chaos of nature was something that construction workers were quite familiar with, but Arasaka only owned a certain amount of the space. That space was an irregular pattern, and thus wouldn't allow for the construction of a truly square city.
With the new plans for the Zenith, the most efficient they could get was a hexagon, the designers apparently taking inspiration from the naturally forming shapes in beehives. The layout of the Pacifica construction itself would have to be altered to match with this proposed design, and eventually the arena would have to be demolished as the construction continued. It took Uriel eleven hours to adjust the planned construction to match the arcology honeycomb pattern.
It was something of a boon that the only permanent building that had gone up thus far were the production facilities and the cathedral. Everything else was already planned on being demolished later down the road anyways, so it was no great loss to adjust the planning now before anything else went up. The cathedral was conveniently located with its 'back' to the wall of the planned central pillar leading up. The Zenith was something of a hexagonal pyramid, but cut in half halfway up to create an artificial plateau, and with a strong central pillar to contain a series of elevators and administrative buildings into the walls of the pillar itself.
Underneath the central pillar and the arcology in general would be the production, industrial, and any other building that didn't need to be above ground. This would include a set of three railways that traveled around in a circle to serve as public transport, with roadways on the surface wide enough to accommodate actual vehicles for policing, emergency services, and military. Whatever carbon dioxide was produced in the basement levels would be vented up through the edges and the roof layer, directly feeding into the 'greenhouses' along the walls of the pyramid and within the bulk farming on the domed top.
It was tremendously efficient overall. The biggest problem was that there weren't enough guns on it, and the outer walls weren't thick enough to prevent a few dozen tank shots from getting through. This was an unacceptable weakness, so Uriel made alterations to correct this.
Each corner of the hexagon would now be a terraced stack of reinforced concrete, platforms for AA guns, spaces for military vehicles, and spaces to mount infantry-manned emplaced weapons. The best defense was usually overwhelming firepower pointed at whoever wanted to approach you. The ground floor military garage doors were only accessible by military vehicles from the outside of the arcology itself, but had chokepointed doorways leading deeper in for security access. The garages themselves were thirty meters tall and wide, a nice square to accommodate whatever future monster guns on wheels they came up with years from now.
Future-proofing a design was almost as important as it's current design, he intended to live a long fucking time, and rebuilding all this shit would be annoying. He made sure to specify they were to use roman concrete for all of this, to get rid of that future expense as well.
All in all, this 'Zenith' would cost hundreds of billions to put together. Not all at once, but over time it would add the fuck up. The cathedral was significantly less ambitious overall. Five stories tall, with two ten story towers on either side with eight platforms for AA guns or several emplaced weapons to be mounted on the fifth story and at the top of each tower. The glass windows were small, and reinforced to prevent fuckers from shooting through them and tossing grenades inside. It took up a standard city block, one-hundred meters by two-hundred meters.
And there was fuckers from the Vatican who wanted a meeting with him about it. Annoyingly, he had to attend it if he wanted to keep the joke running. The joke wasn't particularly amusing at this point, but he was old and stubborn, he wasn't about to quit this far into it.
The Vatican was something of a mystery to the rest of the world, especially the corporate world. Mostly because they had the bright idea of making their local NET run off an OS that was completely incompatible with any other OS. Their NET couldn't interact with the rest of the world, nor could the rest of the world interact with them through the NET. This made them difficult to contact, and separate from the incredibly fast world of corporate money-making. This also made them almost impossible to hack into.
Hacking the Vatican, or anywhere else they set up their NET, was usually considered a death sentence for the average Netrunner. Vatican-NET was incredibly obtuse, with numerous confusing or illogical rules about its navigation. That, and anyone familiar with the NET architecture can usually immediately tell that something foreign was inside their data fortress, which normally led to zealous church-guards in very heavy armor and carrying very big guns finding and killing the netrunner in a few minutes. The church had a policy of not prioritizing the capture of those they found lurking in their NET without explicit permission.
The slow speed of navigating the foreign and obtuse net architecture, the immediate detection of the foreign presence, and the gentlemen with sledgehammers, shotguns, and riot armor showing up to your location as fast as they could made the Vatican NET a very unwise target for most netrunners. The most common advice within guides and programs made for trainee netrunners was 'don't'. That was where Uriel learned of this first, and by proxy where Adam learned of it.
Adam kept this in mind as he walked into the half-complete cathedral, passing by the workers that were making themselves busy, the sounds of construction going on all around him. Inside there was a number of tables and chairs, presumably for the workers, but now set up to be an improvised meeting room.
He narrowed his optics at what he saw. There were significantly fewer meatbags than he was expecting. Normally Catholics travel in sets of seven, one leader, one assistant, and five guards. He had been expecting two meatbags and five half-meats.
Sitting at the end of the central chamber were zero meatbags, zero half-meats, and two borgs. Most alarmingly, one of those borgs was a modified Wiseman.
The Wiseman was a fullborg conversion that wasn't designed to be used in direct combat. It was designed to be a platform for a biopoded Netrunner. Back in the day, netrunners were troublesome enough when they had to be plugged up and sitting in an apartment somewhere to do anything. Nowadays a netrunner could glance at a meatbag and cause them seizures.
The Wiseman was an expert netrunner, placed into a biopod, connected to the most powerful supercomputer they could get into the torso, and limbs filled to the brim with the various devices that a netrunner might find useful. The truest threat from a Wiseman came from the RMC TechGnosis interface, which translated all five senses into binary data, before being translated again into netspace stimuli before feeding it into the Wiseman's mind, acclimating them to the NET on a permanent basis.
Famously, a Wiseman once commented that the difference between the NET and the real world was the same as the ocean and the beach to him. Another Wiseman by the name of Chow was asked if he believed in God by Akira, the Tokyo regional NET manager-AI. Chow simply responded 'I am God.'
Even without the NET, the Wiseman was a borg, with all the durability and strength that implied. The Wiseman was to netrunners what a Dragoon was to infantry. A Wiseman could beat meatbags to death with their bare hands if they wanted to, and ignore smaller guns outright. No match for him, of course, but that wasn't where the danger was.
Adam could kill any fucker in an actual fight. But the NET was never his specialty, it was something he had to rely on his ICE for, to hold out long enough for him to approach and murder the fucker trying to hack him. Uriel was here now, so he should be relatively safer. So he approached with his normal pace, deviating at all would be showing weakness.
And Adam Smasher didn't do weak.
The other borg was a modified Aquarius wearing a cross necklace, a model meant for oceanic exploration, it wasn't a threat more than any other standard borg was. That is to say, it was just scrap to him.
He glared at the chairs made of flimsy plastic and aluminum. He walked past them to the stone stairs leading up to the altar area and sat down on those. Fucking meatbag chairs. He glared at the two that had turned their chairs around to face him, said chairs straining under their weight but not breaking.
…He just realized that he was in his Gemini, and thus could sit in them just fine. He growled out a question to hide his irritation at forgetting that.
"What does the Vatican want?"
The Wiseman nodded, and spoke in an elderly tone. "Adam Smasher, the Vatican thanks you for accepting this meeting. I am Gaspar, Magi of the Church. With me is Guardsman Brent Simon Ungermann, who is acting as my security." The Aquarius nodded to him, and Adam made note of his weapons out of habit.
A monosword and a netgun, with claws on the fingers with backwards facing hooks. A loadout meant for restraining a target and then eliminating them at leisure. Not a threat to him…
He was in his Gemini, so actually a very small threat to him if he decided to turn his brain off. Adam turned back to the Wiseman, and waited for him to continue. After a moment, the Wiseman did.
"Pontifex Maximus has taken notice of your endeavors to construct a new house of God, the largest yet to be built within this city, and extends an offer unto you. Should you accept, then I and my security will remain within your territory and establish a branch of the TempleNET for the church here. A standard century of guardsmen from the Vatican will travel here, and take up residence to act as on-site security."
…So he doesn't have to pay for the security for this place, doesn't have to pay for the NET to be set up here, and doesn't have to worry about keeping it operational. All in exchange for more meatbags and scrap he could kill later if they decided to backstab him. God must approve of his joke, because Adam couldn't see the downside to this.
The Wiseman might have been a threat before, but Uriel was around now. He and his ICE should be enough to hold off the borg long enough for Adam to turn him into scrap. The less said about a borg meant for aquatic exploration and combat fighting Adam Smasher on land, the better.
The Wiseman took his silence as wanting further details. It took out a micro-computer from the suitcase on the floor next to it.
"I have brought with me an example of TempleNET, If you wish to test its defenses yourself for confirmation about its efficacy."
Uriel quirked his 'lips', and Adam gave the mental equivalent of a shrug. Meh, might as well see what all the hubbub was about. Uriel stepped out of his frame, and into the cyberspace of the micro-computer. The world disappeared behind him as his fire poured into the world within. He found himself in front of a sealed door made of white stone. He raised a theoretical brow, and pushed it open to step inside.
He found himself on a patio made of some kind of stone, thin pillars around him held up a slanted roof with the image of an elephant carved into its interior. Within this patio contained a great many programs, currently in stasis. The area around the patio was open grasslands, virtual grass swaying in a virtual breeze.
He walked over to a pillar, and ran a hand made of fire across it. Grooves dug into it. He stopped, and then tried grabbing it. It came off like a clump of modeling clay in his hand. He observed it, rolling the clay until it was a ball in his hand, and then pushed it back onto the pillar, rubbing it until it was smooth again. It wasn't quite right, but it was close enough.
How strange. He reached down to the floor and tried to grab it too, which revealed that the entire building was a sort of clay in his hands. He rubbed it back in until smooth there as well.
He hadn't really been stopped by anything, wasn't the Vatican NET supposed to be obtuse and confusing? He stepped off the patio, and into the grassland. Turning around, he saw an elephant walk around from behind the patio and up to him. It stared at him with blue eyes, and he stared at it back.
He waved at it, it lightly slapped his head with its trunk. How rude.
He nodded and stepped back onto the patio, and through the doorway into the real world again. His fire entered Adam's frame again, and with that his little exploration was over.
Adam stood up. "I accept. If you start fucking around, I'll kill all of you."
The Wiseman nodded in acceptance, and the meeting was over. Adam walked out of the cathedral and headed back to the armory. He had a patrol to get to. That was mostly a waste of his time, it could have been resolved with an email.
Meh, it got him free shit, so it wasn't too annoying.
—
Simon "Royce" Randall was wondering what the goddamn fuck his dumbass gonkfucker boss was doing.
Maelstrom had been in something of a golden age recently, by playing the part of scavengers and looting what they could without pissing any big players off too much. They had more members than ever before, had shittons of loot that they were still sorting out, and brand new territory all across the map. The Tyger Claws couldn't stop them from taking old Scav dens for themselves, and the Mox were never a threat even on the worst of days.
That Smasher BD had done a shitton of free marketing for them, a bunch of punks finally figuring out that chrome was better than meat and wanting to sign up with the gangs with the most chrome around. That arena down in Pacific was also a great little side venture, just needing to send some of their tougher boys down there to beat the fleshies down and rake in the eddies. Being made of metal makes you real resistant to weapons, who fucking knew?
That, and having their boys constantly winning meant even more punks wanting to sign up, and a new business venture. Merchandise was making more eddies than the actual winning was at this point, and Royce was planning on riding that platinum goose all the way to the fucking bank. More funding, more recruits, more territory, everything was coming up aces for Maelstrom.
Which is why Brick's dumbass project had him and Dum-Dum real concerned for the future.
It started when they got those servers and data-caches from down in Pacifica, the ones that the Voodoo Boys used to have. They weren't about to just let that shit sit around, that was free shit.
That's when Brick, he, and Dum-Dum learned of Arasaka's dirty little secret. Soulkiller, a program that could fucking eat a gonk and spit out an AI that looked exactly like him. Needless to say, they kept it a fucking secret. Even Brick wasn't retarded enough to spill Arasaka's dirty laundry out like that, so they kept it just to the three of them.
There was other, more important shit on those data-caches. Supplies, staches of guns and netrunning supplies, notes on the Blackwall and Netwatch. All kinds of useful shit.
So Royce and Dum-Dum had organized the retrieval of all those preem fucking goods, and Maelstrom got enough supplies that they had to start locking some of it away in their own staches.
Brick had watched the Smasher BD, which in retrospect was probably the first stone in the absolute avalanche of gonkfuckery to follow. He began loading up on the chrome, enough to make him actually look respectable with his face covered in a steel plate. His wiring was covered in metal, his limbs were replaced, he got a linear frame.
All in all, nothing but upgrades for the fucking dumbass that was his boss. He had about as much chrome as you could load up on a man without getting one of those fancy corporate brains-in-jars conversion. Brick couldn't afford to get that, otherwise Royce and Dum-Dum would take over during his recovery, but he wanted more chrome.
His retarded decision? Summon the AI who invented the Soulkiller from beyond the Blackwall, force it to turn him into an AI, and then use robot bodies.
Yes, Brick, that sounds like an excellent fucking idea you goddamn retarded gonkfuck shithead motherfucker. Fuck!
Fucking fuck!
Fucking Brick, You gonkfucking dumbass!
He got the bright idea to make a signal that could theoretically mimic the AI's boytoy from its fleshie days, that hack rockerboy Silverhand, use that to lure it in, and then trap it in a wired system. The only way to get out of it would be the wireless signal, which a strommer with a sandy high on blacklace would unplug before the AI could get out.
Royce wasn't a dumbass though. Fucking around with AI was how you got your body turned into a fucking puppet and your brain eaten in the NET.
That was fine though, he thought as he watched strommers load computers and wires into the most secure basement that Maelstrom had. Brick would get himself killed doing this stupid bullshit, and he would take over. He was already mostly running the show on the edges, Brick was too focused on his retarded project to notice or care.
He'd get Dum-Dum to help him out, he actually knew how to run a fucking gang and not some hoodoo techmystical cult.
All he had to do was keep working while Brick burned himself alive.