Chapter 10

Jacky managed to get an appointment with Mr. Walker at 11:30. Meanwhile Kate and I created an outfit for her for the day. The extra pair of arms made that a non trivial exercise, as the standard patterns were designed for two arms. Simply adding additional sleeves was strangely disturbing. It just did not sit right. After a bit of fiddling we got something fitting that nonetheless looked smart. Kate was a bit surprised when I insisted on light body armor.

While the fabber extruded the outfit I was mentally going through my own wardrobe, trying to find a suitable combination. After a few minutes I decided that I had nothing really appropriate to the situation. At least not anymore. While I could still wear my old t-shirts, sweaters and overalls with my... enhanced bust, even if a bit tight, anything business smart I owned would now make me look like I was soliciting horizontal work, so I had to fab a new outfit for myself as well. I was in luck, as the fabber was, while old, a luxury model with all the bells and whistles, including a body scanner for tailored extrusion. That the available selection of synthetics was three times that of the basic model and included synthetic spider silk did not hurt either.

Even before Frankel decided to increase my sensitivity I had problems with coarser fabrics. Now I did not really want to think about wearing wool anymore. Not that I had more than a single wool shawl, considering how expensive the damned stuff is.

Spider silk was actually one of the best materials one could use, as it was at once extraordinary soft to the touch and incredibly tough making it one of the best materials for ballistic fabric. At least if one did not have a working Nano Assembler, or a nanotube fabber. Carbon nanotubes were orders of magnitude better, in both aspects, but it would be cheaper to wear chainmail out of gold.

With both Kate and me newly equipped with business attire, I prepared for the meeting. I had never developed a habit for using makeup so I left that out, but I put up my hair. Looking in the mirror I decided I had done the best I could do.

On the way out of my room I placed my PDP in my holster and then entered the Lab.

In the back, Frankel was howling in pain, something that brought a little smile onto my face. I saw Christine and Natalie standing around him as I closed to his rack, pain sticks in each hand.

“You know you can mute him if he gets too loud, right?” Booth women wheeled around to face me, and Christine answered me: “Nah, that’s all right. We wouldn’t want to miss the music.” Frankel’s former clothes were on the ground around him, resembling cleaning rags more than clothes, and I saw several of Frankel’s more ... imaginative toys placed on various parts of his body. This vision made me ask an important question.

“Have you given him the enhancement formula yet or can we look forward to it?” That made them both look thoughtfully first at Frankel, then at me.

“You know, I hadn’t thought about enhancement at all. You Nat?” Christine looked at her sister, who shook her head.

“No, but in hindsight, it is obvious. Well, Red, do you want to be present when we give him the honor of being enhanced?”

Frankel made some inscrutable noises, and I noticed that something was rammed into his mouth. Apparently the sisters did not want our toy to annoy them.

“Not necessary. I don’t want to hog all the fun.” We all chuckled at that.

“But seriously now. Do I look like a professional business woman?”

A worried expression moved over their faces, and they looked at each other for a moment, silently debating with each other. Finally Natalie answered me.

“Ahm, in all honesty, no, you don’t.” That was exactly what I did not want to hear, and I could feel my face falling.

Christine elaborated the point.

“You look like a kid playing business in her mom’s clothes.”

Several feelings fought for dominance in me at this moment, only to settling on resignation a moment later.

“Shit ... shit ... shit. That is ... damn...” I took a deep breath, and then asked them: “Do you think there is anything we could do about it? Other clothes? A different hair style? Makeup?” I tried to sound not too needy.

But they shook their heads, with Natalie answering me. “Sorry, but no can do. It is your size more than anything else. That you simply have a cute face does not help at all. You would need two or three inches more.” At first I was a bit confused before I remembered that they still partially used the Imperial system on the East Coast. Then her statement struck. Nice, five to eight cm were missing from my being seen as an adult.

And if my research was right, I would have quite a few more years being treated as a kid before me.

“That ... will make negotiations with a traditional older misogynist so much easier. Well, it can’t be helped. I have to somehow convince him that I won’t be an embarrassment for him. Thanks for the honesty though.”

I turned around, and walked slowly to the garage. On the way, Kate joined me, and then commented:

“You don’t look particularly happy. Something wrong?”

I had to suppress a snort.

“Yeah, quite a few things are wrong. I have to meet with an Irish mafia boss, who is known to be very old-fashioned and against women in business, except traditional women’s jobs. I have come at best only superficially to terms with my ordeal over the last week, and going into the lion’s den like that scares me more than anything I have ever had to do. I have been told that I look like a kid playing business woman, and that of course means I will have to work just so much harder to convince this man to grant us his blessing. It is only by the skin of my teeth that I keep from running away. So yes, something is wrong. But if we want to build a life here, I have to tough it out. Just don’t expect me to make a happy dance about it.”

Directly after I unloaded on her I regretted doing it.

“Sorry, it is not your fault. It’s just that I am stressed about it like nobody’s business.”

“Ah, it’s all right. I think none of us got how hard this would be for you.”

Then we reached the garage, and I got the first real look at the vehicles there.

The van we were transported with was here of course. As were several smaller vehicles. In the back corner was what looked like an older skimmer. Kate immediately moved in that direction.

“Can we take the skimmer? I always wanted to fly in one.”

I had to rain on her parade.

“Can you fly it? I can’t, and the trafcon in New York is famous for being unreliable.”

She shook her head, but still looked wistfully at the massive vehicle. I could understand her disappointment. A flight in what was essentially a light grav ship sounds fun. But I still pointed at a silver grey sedan.

“Let’s take that. It is the best we have available.” She nodded, and I sent a quick order to the computer system to reprogram the AI of the sedan, before we drove out of the garage.

It was the first time I had seen New York in real, and I have to say, I was not impressed. There were scars of the big war in Seattle. Several buildings were abandoned. But they were still either kept in a reasonable state of repair or demolished to keep the risk down.

Not so in New York. At best somewhere between 20 and 30% of the buildings were occupied. The rest were crumbling slowly. Everywhere was decay and while the roads were free from rubble they were old. If their condition was an implication the last maintenance was sometime before the Third Civil War. Maybe even before the Big War. But there was still life in this territory. I could see several small shops, either in the buildings on the ground floor, or in what appeared to be improvised shacks on the broken sidewalk.

The drive was otherwise unspectacular, and we arrived at Walker’s headquarter with 15 minutes to spare.

Compared to the fortress, it looked rather small and weak. But looks can deceive as even I had often experienced. I decided then and there to prepare a scorched earth approach, and primed the cluster to go full destructive on the mob here if it either got the signal from me to do so or if it did not get the abort signal in an hour after the appointment started. After thinking about it I also prepared The Lamb to start six hours later. If Walker would capture or even kill me he would not enjoy the experience. I would not go gently into that good night! In hindsight, even considering The Lamb was an overkill of several orders of magnitude, but as I had told Kate, I was scared and I was grasping for anything I believed would give me an advantage. With a last deep breath, I steeled my face and we exited the sedan.

Inside the building we were greeted by a cordial young man, early to mid twenties, with dark blonde hair.

“Hello. My name it Patrick. May I ask what you want?” There was an undertone that promised uncomfortable consequences if there was no reason for us to enter. Fortunately I had a reason.

“My name is Veronica Sinclair. I have an appointment with Mr. Walker at 11:30. Could you please let the relevant persons know that I am here?”

He nodded and sub-vocalized something, and a few moments later a group of obvious security came from one of the doors. The apparent leader of the group came close to me.

“If you would please remove any weapons you have with you!”

While he said please it was clear that it was no question, just a polite order. Still, I was prepared for that.

“Of course.” While I removed my gun from its holster and offered it to him, I continued. “Is it all right that my guard stays here?” He took my PDP, visibly surprised at the rather small weapon and then looked at Kate. Then he nodded.

“Yes, that is all right. Do you have any other weapons?”

“No, I personally don’t have the physical propensity for violence. I let others more suitable for such endeavors do that.” I forced a smile and opened my coat so he could see that there was nothing else.

He looked me over, and the fact that I wore a relatively short and tight skirt seemed to convince him that I had no hold outs. Of course any hold out would be roughly the same size as my PDP, which looked quite big on me.

“OK, follow me please.” After he gave the gun to Patrick he led me through one of the doors, and up a stair case. I could see signs that betrayed the age of the building, even if it was in seemingly good maintenance. After we were two floors up he brought me to a set of double doors.

Inside a young woman sat at a desk and was working on a rather dated computer.

My guide announced me: “Mr. Walker’s eleven thirty is here.”

The young woman gestured to a second set of double doors and said: “Go right in. He expects her.”

I took a moment to compose myself a last time before I followed my guide through the door.

Inside I saw Benjamin Walker for the first time. He was in his late 40s, early 50s, with dark brown hair going gray. He obviously had had several cyber upgrades, as his eyes had a slightly artificial touch, and the muscles under his shirt were simply inhuman.

The office was ... traditionally set up. It would not have been out of order during World War II.

Heavy oak paneling adorned the walls, and the furniture seemed to be real wood. A thick carpet covered the floor and several bookshelves stood along the walls of the 5x8m room, full of old books. If I had to guess the worth of this room, I would estimate several million dollars.

But something was wrong. I could not decide what, but something tickled my senses. After a few seconds I decided that it had to wait.

“Hello. I am Veronica Sinclair.”

He nodded and pointed at one of the seats in front of his desk.

“Benjamin Walker. Take a seat.”

As I sat down, I noticed two guards sitting in the corner of the room. My guide joined them.

“So you want to open a business in my territory?”

“Yes. Despite my admittedly youthful appearance I have some expertise that I think would allow me to earn a living here.”

He looked at me intensely for a few moments, and something in his stare bothered me, but I couldn’t exactly say what. Then he answered me.

“And you decided to come to my territory exactly why?”

“That was not quite my decision. I believe you know Mr. Frankel, right?”

With his nod I continued.

“The man who piloted me here had an outstanding obligation to him, and Mr. Frankel decided to confiscate him and his property as compensation. Unfortunately he also decided to confiscate us passengers and our property.”

I showed a thin smile.

“You can hopefully understand that I took umbrage at this behavior. Well, Mr. Frankel forced the issue, and was not able to enforce his opinion on me and my acquaintances. In the end, I found myself owning him and his property. Including the nice big house of his, that is optimal for my work, and that is part of your territory.”

He formed a pyramid with his fingers in front of him, and I could see several of his muscles twitch.

“And you assume now that I would be willing to let you keep the property that Mr. Frankel held previously. What if I decided that I wanted Mr. Frankel back in control there?”

“Unfortunately I can’t give you that. While Mr. Frankel is still alive, he made the mistake of drawing the ire of the majority of my people. I fear that he would have an unfortunate accident if I decided to let him go, let alone giving him the house back.”

“And if I decided to keep you here and let my people look into the situation?”

Uh oh. That did not sound so good. But I had to remain calm. At least outwardly.

“That, I fear would be a very bad decision. I think you know that, while you will certainly be able to gain control of the building, you would lose quite a few men doing that, but that is not the aspect that should worry you. What finished my altercation with Mr. Frankel in my favor was the fact that for a while I was one of Spectre’s brokers. You can assume that Spectre will watch the situation closely, and the consequences of your acting against me could be disastrous.”

His eyes twitched and he leaned back into his chair.

“I am not used to being threatened, and I have to say I don’t like it.”

Good. I conveyed the danger, now I had to take out the sting.

“I am sorry if you thought of it as a threat. Just to warn you. I assume you know of Spectre’s reputation for protection brokers. At this moment, I have absolutely no control over anything that could happen. I can only guess what Spectre will do. I confess that I did not issue a warning in that respect to Mr. Frankel, but unlike you, he chose to negotiate with drawn weapons.”

He scratched his chin, before he answered.

“I will think about it. But first, what is the business that you want to open?”

“I want to work as implant surgeon. Besides that I can offer services as computer specialist and electronics designer. Additionally I intend to resume my role as broker.”

His look intensified again, and I felt strangely captured by it. In my head I was going over the mantra ‘keep calm, ‘ over and over again. I just had to keep my concentration.

“I find it hard to believe that you are old enough that you can do it.”

Yeah, the old problem.

“For one, I am cursed with looking younger than I am. I have been told that I look like a kid playing business, but unfortunately I can’t do anything against that. The other point is that I am a Pure.”

I saw the tension in his face intensify. Ok, not so good, he did not like Pures.

“Unfortunately I can’t do anything about the label the more obnoxious members of my race have given us so I have to use it, but I can assure you that I am not one the ultra arrogant assholes most people associate with the word.”

Unfortunately his face did not relax.

“But the point is that three specialties like that are a bit above average for Pures, but nothing extraordinary.”

He shook his head slightly, and I could see that his brow was moist. The temperature in the room was a bit low, so I was asking myself what could make him sweat.

“And I am supposed to simply believe you?”

I had to smile again.

“I could offer you credentials and diplomas, but we both know that somebody who has access to Spectre can provide anything like that regardless of actually earning it. So you have sadly only three options. You can believe me, you can believe I am lying, or you can give me the chance to prove that I can do it. I would honestly prefer the last option.”

“We already have quite a few cyber surgeons here. What makes you think that we need another one?”

That was an easy question.

“I would guess you have not many implant surgeons trained in the Commonwealth. We all know that the NWC is a decade ahead of the East Coast concerning cyber technology. And I can assure you that I did not have to relocate here because of my work.”

He stood up and walked around the desk. Wow, he was even more massive than I thought. I would guess he was around 150 to 160kg, and no fat. I forced myself to not show any reaction.

Then he gripped my chin and moved my head to the left and right. My heart pounded and I had to force down my beginning panic. This whole situation was intimidating as hell. But somehow I managed to keep my anxiety from my face.

Then something happened that I did absolutely not expect. Despite my fear, my nervousness and the fact that this giant of a man towered above me, I felt myself getting wet. That derailed my thoughts for a bit, while Walker examined my face. I fought myself to calm down. This was not a normal reaction for me, so I had to research it later. Now I had to ensure my immediate future.

As calmly and as coldly as I could manage I asked:

“Is this normal behavior for you?”

“I still have to decide of you are worth it.” Still, he let go of my chin and took a step back.

“And what, pray tell, has my face to do with it?”

He slowly moved back to his chair.

“If I decide to let you open your business in my territory, there may be ancillary services despite the tax that I might demand. And for some of those your appearance could be important.”

Shit, that was not a direction I wanted to go in. But he was the boss and at least he was considering letting me work here.

“These ancillary services would have to be negotiated. I hope you are not affronted, but I want to know beforehand...”

Suddenly it clicked.

The smell, the twitches, the sweat, his slightly unfocused eyes whenever he did not concentrate.

“You have CRS!” I immediately regretted my outburst but it was so surprising that I could not stop myself.

His look became cold, as well as his voice.

“Why do you think I have CRS?”

Damn. Hope for the best.

“Something bothered me the moment I entered your office, but I could not immediately identify what. You have many small indications. Your cybermuscles twitch every so often. Your eyes defocus when you don’t concentrate, as well as twitch. You have a slight sheen of sweat on your brow. Your breath is a bit labored. That all could have any number of causes, but not the smell of Tricyclin. From the strength of the smell I would estimate that you have late stage three or even stage four CRS.”

He stared at me.

“And, as an implant surgeon, what would you advise in this situation?”

That was the question.

“With what I know at this moment, nothing. I simply have not enough information to give a sound opinion, much less advise how to go from here.”

That seemed to surprise him.

“Give me a general outline what you would suggest.”

“Well, generally you have four options. The easiest is of course to do nothing. Depending on the severity of your CRS and what cyberware you have, this will kill you sooner or later. Could be weeks, could be months. From your breathing and the sweat I would guess you have a cybernetic heart and that it gives you problems, so years to live should be unrealistic. Next, what you apparently are doing, using anti-rejection drugs. Tricyclin is good, but if you have a cybernetic heart then Demakilan would be a bit better choice. That would extend your life expectancy by 20 to 30%. Third option, you could replace the cyberware with cloned organs. That would of course stop the CRS, but leave you without cyberware and demonstrating a weakness. It would also depend on your surviving long enough to get the cloned tissue. I don’t think a man in your position would survive long in that situation. Fourth you could try Nicolins’ nano therapy. That could increase live expectancy by up to 400%.”

He leaned forward.

“Ok, now I am a bit impressed. You are only the second who mentioned the nano therapy. Not that anybody here can do it.”

I shook my head.

“I know how it works. I mean, I haven’t done it before, but I have the parameters and programming for the therapy. But I can’t promise you that it will save you. Also it will only prolong your life so much. Fortunately for you I may have a fifth option that might save you and eliminate your CRS.”