Sadly the cat wasn't in the alley. No scritch therapy today. Bummer.

Vik was in a good mood, he seemed upbeat and ready to have some fun.

"Ryan great to see you back. Ready for a check-up?" I notice his gloves and workout clothes out to the side.

"You boxing again Doctor?" I was glad he had something to keep him sane.

"Nah, one of the guys I used to coach when he was a kid, has returned to the city. We went a few rounds to celebrate his homecoming." He gave a few punches.

I was amused. The idea of having folks running around in the world, that could just show back up and we'd pick up where things were left off, was awesome to me.

I hoped to have that someday. I never had any close friends in my old home. Lots of casual bros, but no one who had my back no matter what.

Maybe I was getting there with the Aldecaldos. Maybe they'll ditch me now that there's heat attached to the association. In the end they may just be cozying up to me because of the things I can provide, but it didn't feel like that while I was in the camp with them.

Vik seemed to be a genuine good dude. Sure a professional and all that, but he actually seemed to care.

Eh, couldn't hurt to ask.

"Hey Doc, you been around a while. I know, you know what it's like out there. How do you keep caring about folks? Stay sane in the face of all this crap?" I was pensive, still trying to work through everything.

"Connections, Kid. As simple, and as hard as that. You find your community, you invest in the people and their lives, their victories become yours, and their defeats as well. You share pain and joy and you grow together. It'll keep you grounded. Too many people place value in becoming legends or making eddies, like the kid that just left, but the city wins that fight every time. Communities can rise and fall but they tend to keep going even when everything else turns to shit." He seemed a bit embarrassed to say all of that, but it was exactly what I needed. Best advice for this troubled place.

I nodded, I understood that. I had to pick my connections, and work on growing them. "Which is why gangs are such a big thing. A sense of that connection even though they are using you."

"That's about the size of it. The biggest problem is learning to pick out the best people to hang with. Your real chooms. It's a rare thing." He shook his head, remembering something from his past.

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"Sorry Doc, didn't mean to drag up old problems."

"Nah kid, we all have things we'd rather forget." Nothing seemed to phase Vik for long. He was an excellent role model, it was good to know he taught kids, passing some of that unflappable-ness to the younger generations. The world could use more folks like Viktor Vector.

"Hop up on the chair and let's have a look at your chrome." He waved towards the operating chair.

I jumped up, "If you don't mind, as long as things check out I'd like to get a grip." I settled back into the chair. Looking at all the monitors told me next to nothing I really didn't understand any of this stuff yet.

"Oh looking to improve the aim?"

"No aim's good, just looking to know where it's going after. My iron's a bit more serious these days, and going to be more so soon. I don't want to zero someone by mistake." I grimaced at the thought of killing some poor schmuck just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Sure, look over the list while I scan your head." He dropped the scanner. It made me dizzy for some reason.

I powered through the fuzziness looking at the options on the left hand monitor. Tons of options from lots of different Corps, each more expensive than the last. I settled on one from Bats Corp. it basically combined the feature of a ballistics coprocessor, a smart gun link, and a recoil manager all in one. It also had a better technical link to the weapon, so you would get info like gun part condition and other fine details on your feed. It ran me a whooping $50,000, but I had a feeling it'd be worth it.

"Oh, now that's something I don't sell a lot of. Little too pricy for most folks." Vik raised his eyebrows at me.

"Biz is good. Had a nice little gig out in the Badlands, with more coming down the pipe." I grinned at him. "Soon I'll be able to invest quite a bit in a community." I saw his face clouding over.

"I know, I know, not that kind of investment Doc. I was joking." I laughed. He really did remind me of my Gramps.

"Well, eddies are good to have, but friends can save you when money won't buy your way out of danger." He nodded like he knew I got the message.

He flipped up a device on the right side of the chair, "Stick your hand in there. The Autodoc will get the grip implanted." He gave me a shot in the right forearm, once I got my hand positioned.

"How's that, feel anything?" I shook my head. He was already rolling his chair back around to look at the scanner. "Everything looks good, your neural pathways have already adapted to the circuitry. Clean connections all the way. The optic sockets report no problems and the nerve there has a good signal coming through. I'd almost say you were born to Chip in with results like this."

"Sounds great, Doc."

We waited a few minutes while the Autodoc finished my hand. He flipped the device back under the chair.

"Alright pull your iron and check the sync up."

I whipped out the Omaha, and everything had changed. It was like it had become part of me, I could feel it like it I could feel my hand. Awesome.

In addition to that the ammo count was now displayed in my optics feed as well as a parts readout for the gun. A line traveled from the tip of the barrel showing the most likely trajectory, and even how it would ricochet off the sign I was aiming at. It even suggested a different line of fire to hit the sign for maximum damage.

"Worth every ennie. Thanks Doc." I said hopping up

Vik handed me another inhaler, same deal as last time. One puff now, another one every hour for five hours. I hit the first puff and a soothing mist filled my lungs.

"Welcome, Kid. Now get out there and find your people." He waved me towards the door.

Yeah. Find my people in a world of fucked up shit.

I hoped I could.