The black metal of the Trade Link seethed before him, shifting like a mirage, strange patterns forming in its surface. A handle rose from the metal, a square indentation forming around it.
Nicolai tugged on the handle and the metal hinged open in that square shape, revealing a cubby-hole. There, neatly presented, stacked and boxed, were his purchases.
With his Soul Sense he checked on the girls. Jo had finished buying her items—just some food and other basic supplies—some time ago and had joined Beth. They were arguing over something Beth wanted to buy.
Nicolai left them to it. He’d considered taking ownership of Jo’s points and points-tags, but that wouldn’t set the right tone. He wanted to be fair to them, enough so that once Contract was over they wouldn’t immediately turn against him. His Mask argued that securing their loyalty was worth more than the few thousand points he estimated them to possess. His impression was that Jo had spent most of the points she’d looted on ammo for her rifle, anyway.
He began taking his new things out, feeling as though he’d just been shopping in one of New London’s endless malls. The clothes (all a dull grey technocamo, robust and excessively pocketed) were in branded bags. His shiny new MP5 and Glock 17, alongside the bullets, were in boxes covered in warning symbols and end-user disclaimers. The Network Link, BIS and HT-8 augments all came in smooth, expensive-looking containers equipped with Link-interfaces. The food was packaged in plastic, just like from a grocery store, and the “clutter” he’d bought was all packaged in cardboard boxes.
He took it all out, moving it to the floor beside him. Once done, he looked to the girls, hoping to recruit their help carrying it out, only to see them hissing angrily at one another. They’d made some more purchases already. A pump-action shotgun now hung from Beth’s shoulder, there were a few bags on the ground by them, and Jo now had a pistol holstered on her hip.
His turned his attention to their words.
‘It’s a waste of points and you don’t need it!’ Jo practically snarled. ‘You’re past the withdrawal, you’re free of it!’
‘I just need a little, that’s all! It’s just for emergencies, just in case. Maybe I will need it, you don’t know.’ Beth turned away from her sister to jab at the console only for Jo to grab her hand.
‘Beth! Beth!’ Jo’s voice was rising. ‘Don’t be stupid, don’t do this!’
Nicolai drew closer. Something was up. He’d rather not get involved in what seemed a personal affair, but he was cognisant of Jo’s warning to be quiet in here. He sincerely doubted the Chosen would hear consider the amount of crushed stone he believed to lie in between this side of the Trade Link and them, but he figured keeping quiet was wise regardless. Perhaps there might be cracks and routes for sound to travel through the collapse.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked with a quiet he hoped they’d mirror, appearing behind them.
The two spun to stare at him, Jo looked conflicted, Beth’s face turned stark white, twisted with guilt and… fear? He gained a clearer picture from brushing her Soul Sense, which was writhing with emotion. Guilt and fear and shame and need. From that, and what he’d heard, Nicolai began to put the picture together.
Jo began to speak only for Beth to whirl and clutch at her sister. ‘Don’t tell him!’ he heard her hiss.
Jo’s face wobbled, uncertain.
‘Our Contract states we must all be honest with one another,’ Nicolai reminded them. ‘If there is a problem that might affect our odds of survival, we must share it. So. Share.’
‘It’s nothing to do with our survival,’ Beth snarled at him. Her guilt and fear had flashed into anger. ‘It’s personal, so keep your nose out!’
‘Lower your voice,’ Nicolai hissed right back. ‘The Chosen are on the other side of these rocks, somewhere.’
Beth had opened her mouth to speak back, but Nicolai got there first. ‘What are you addicted to?’ he said, and these words were an attack.
She gaped at him, eyes wide, on the back foot. Nicolai’s Soul Sense swam around her, tasting her emotions, whilst his eyes read her face. ‘Stims? M4B? Pollen?’ He listed off the most common drugs, one by one, watching for her reaction. ‘Sigma? Ultra? E—‘ Nicolai paused. Her emotions had intensified at the last word, her face twisting. ‘Ultra Narcom,’ he stated, and she flinched.
Nicolai managed not to sigh, doing his best to keep his face free of anything that could be perceived as disgust or judgement, of which in truth he felt neither. Addiction rates were sky-high on Earth in this modern era, more than fifteen percent of people were addicted to something. The problem was, some addictions were worse than others.
Ultra Narcom was a medical grade anti-anxiety drug. Originally designed as a prescription drug meant to have no side effects (supposedly, anyway, though Nicolai had some suspicions in that regard), it quickly found a new market upon the revelation that it did have one side effect. Intense and long lasting euphoria. It was very safe, physically, causing no toxicity, chemical dependencies, or other issues, and in general being impossible to overdose from due to how it interacted with the nervous system. The only problem with it was that—though not technically addicting, in terms of chemical dependency—the state it created was so pleasurable that it was, regardless of any technicalities, extraordinarily addictive.
Considering Beth had been under the heel of some terminal disease which, since she’d never been cured, was apparently untreateable by Earth medicine, it made sense she’d fallen under the sway of Ultra. He was a little curious as to what that disease had been, as he thought it odd she’d been healed by simply integrating her Seed when all the advancements in Earth’s modern medicine hadn’t been enough.
Now probably wasn’t the time to ask. Beth was glaring at him, mute and stricken.
‘That’s right,’ said Jo. ‘She’s been addicted to it since last year. Only finally got off it because of coming here, where she couldn’t get it.’ She shot a deeply meaningful look at Beth.
‘Because you wouldn’t buy me any!’ hissed Beth.
‘Because I saw what it did to you!’
‘Come over here, follow me, come on.’ Nicolai gestured them after him, stepping away. Their voices were rising again. Best to have this discussion away from the Trade Link, just in case.
Nicolai had no problems with drug use in principle, and in fact believed that in some cases it could be quite a good thing. The human body was quite random, and certain drugs could solve some of the issues arising from that randomness. On top of that, considering the amount of substances he’d snorted and swallowed and smoked in his youth, he was a long way from being in any position to judge.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
However, in practice he found such use tended to make most people unreliable and vulnerable, especially drugs like Ultra. He’d killed quite a few people while they’d been blitzed out of their mind and unable to fight back. If Beth had been on it for a year she wasn’t too far down the hole, he could pull her out. She was an asset to him and Nicolai never threw away assets, not until they’d fully served their purpose. Unfortunately, this would require some tough love. Beth wasn’t going to be happy. But it is what it is. Nicolai didn’t believe in letting problems fester.
Reaching the other side of the bridge he turned to face them, and formed a gentle smile. ‘Do you remember our Contract?’
‘Sure I do,’ said Beth, warily. ‘What’s it got to do with this?’
‘Parties must avoid actions that would put our goals at significant risk.’ Nicolai quoted. The Contract, like every Contract he’d entered into, was thoroughly memorised. ‘Those goals being: surviving, growing stronger, and accruing resources. Our odds of survival will be impacted if you are getting high on Ultra. Your ability to grow stronger will be hindered, and therefore my own. Wasting points on Ultra would be the opposite of accruing resources. I believe, based on my understanding of these words, that you must not take Ultra. Even purchasing it would be in violation of the Contract.’
Beth’s eyes widened, then she scowled, and tapped at her Mark. Her fingers struck at the air, navigating menus he couldn’t see. Then her eyes scanned down. Reading their Contract, he imagined. ‘Fuck!’ she yelled, and turned furious eyes onto Jo. ‘You said we weren’t going to be controlled by this bastard, you said we’d be in control!’
‘We don’t have to do everything he says,’ Jo said, raising her hands placatingly. ‘Those three goals are all good things, aren’t they? But Ultra isn’t.’
Beth didn’t reply, at least verbally. Nicolai saw her eyes fix on Jo and her throat faintly worked. Then Jo’s did the same. Talking over Link, then. He examined their faces, the faint movements of their lips and the movements of their throats as they unconsciously verbalised, and did his best to work out what they were saying.
From what he could tell, Jo was actually quite pleased. She clearly saw this as an unintended benefit of the Contract. Whereas Beth naturally felt the opposite. He saw Beth’s eyes narrow with sullen rage at the realisation she’d receive no assistance from her sister, then she turned her glare on him.
‘That’s how you two see things. Fine,’ she spat. ‘But I see it different. I will be more useful. I won’t struggle to survive and to get resources and all that crap. I function better on it, that’s all. I just need it to get rid of the pain, and then—‘
‘What pain?’ Jo’s voice snapped like a whip.
‘I, uh.’ Beth swallowed, staring at her sister, falling silent.
‘I thought the pain was gone?’
‘Yeah.’ Beth scratched at her head. ‘I guess I wasn’t thinking. But still…’ She chewed at her lip.
‘So there is no reason, not anymore.’ Jo stepped close, holding Beth’s arms. ‘You don’t need it anymore. Now you can live like you always wanted.’ She sighed. ‘Why do you want to throw all that away?’
Nicolai watched silently as Beth’s face twisted, and he felt her confusion and uncertainty. She was ripe for a few final words, the nail in the coffin, but he kept them inside. There was no need for him to intervene. Jo was solving it, and she clearly had more experience in the matter.
After a moment Beth stepped away, went over to the wall and put her back against it, sinking down to sit on the ground, staring at nothing. She looked like she had a great deal to think about, and she didn’t look happy to be doing that thinking.
Looking to Jo, Nicolai found her staring at him. She gave him a tiny nod. He nodded back, then started back over to where he’d left his purchases. ‘Give me a hand carrying the stuff, will you?’
###
After taking the bags and boxes from the Trade Link and across the bridge, Nicolai and Jo dumped them near to where Beth was sat. The girl was a little bonfire of sullen, angry misery, one he sensed was liable to flare up if poked. He wasn’t sure why she was so angry, struggling to guess at what exactly she was thinking.
‘I’m going to undergo some surgery, now,’ he said to the pair of them. Jo was attentive. Beth ignored him. ‘I want you two to stand guard. If anything happens while I’m out, defend me.’
‘I’ll keep watch,’ said Jo with a nod, which attracted an ugly little laugh from Beth.
Nicolai ignored the girl’s attitude, certain that given time she’d get over her current fit of pique. However, his gaze remained on her for a moment longer.
‘Beth,’ he spoke. ‘You are able to see inside of yourself now you’re a Cultivator, aren’t you?’
She gave him a sullen look but he gazed back steadily and she was pressed to answer. ‘Yes.’
‘How is… all that, the magic stuff, working with your augments?’
She shrugged, rolling her eyes to stare at the ceiling and sighing, as though finding his simple question of huge annoyance. ‘Fine.’
‘Can you see inside of them?’ he pressed. ‘Have you noticed any changes in function?’
‘Dude, it’s all good, okay? Don’t be so paranoid. Shit just works. Are we done?’
Nicolai was starting to feel a little irritated by her himself. But her words were honest, he saw that much. She was a Cultivator, like him, and she had a BIS and Network Link and perhaps a few other things in her. Practically every human would.
He should be safe to proceed with the surgery, but he still decided it would be best to install only the HT-8 first, and see what happened. Reaching into his pocket he retrieved something cool and metallic.
The Cherubic Surgeon permit resembled a points tag, only gold in colour. He was wary of biting at it or otherwise testing to see if it was really gold, as he didn’t want to damage it. However, in his opinion, despite having the colour it didn’t feel like gold. Too light and too smooth.
According to the description the Surgeon would be able to install the augments he’d purchased. A buzz of excitement ran through him at the thought, a sensation that reminded him of the very first time. The idea of self-modification, self-improvement, had always been something of an obsession of his.
What are humans? Nicolai had the answer.
Animals cobbled together by the random whims of evolution. By some fluke, those random whims had granted them sapience, and from there everything had changed. That was roughly the long-and-short of Nicolai’s views on his species. The proof, to his mind, was everywhere.
People were constantly choking to death on food, of all things, since—due to the wonders of nature—the pipe that humans breathed through (and which it was very important did not become clogged) was right next to the one they stuffed food and drink into.
Point Nicolai to any historical sports player (back before the development of solutions and proper medical technology) and he would point out the strained tendons, the scarred ligaments and torn muscles.
There was a very weird and unnecessarily convoluted nerve layout all throughout the body, and as such many were prone to being compressed; resulting in chronic pain and immobility. The laryngeal nerves, for instance, were one of the biggest offenders. There were two of these nerves in the human body, and both ran to the larynx, the voice box. One of them went straight from brain to larynx, as one would expect. The other went down, performed a roller-coaster like loop around the heart, and then charged back up to join its brother in the same spot. Absolutely pointless, absurdly inefficient; supposedly this was a leftover from when humans were fish.
Nicolai spent a surprising amount of time wondering how many ancient kings had died because their testicles (a rather important organ, when it came to the matter of procreation, and which was simultaneously one of the least protected and most vulnerable) had gotten twisted in an especially exuberant sexual act or simply while riding a horse, then the idiotic organs had died due to the blood flow being cut off, rotted, and the following infection got into their blood and put them into the ground.
He avoided thinking about the various imperfections of the human spine, because he knew it would only upset him.
And yet, undeniably, every piece of it was simultaneously a work of art. Astounding in what nature had created. Packed with hundreds of features that boggled ones mind to think of, and which, by and large, just worked.
Good and bad together. The endless human condition.
But now, humanity had surpassed nature. The torch had passed. This was the view of most from Earth these days, and it was one that, rarely, Nicolai shared.
The human body was okay, but it could be better. And he now held the capability to make his better. It would take time and funds, but he’d remove these weaknesses one way or another.