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SYNTH
Chapter 7 – Guidance

Chapter 7 – Guidance

“[Forums → Community → Off Topic → The Dark Side of Terra Lattice]

User: DeepNetGuy

Date: 01/23/2404

'Yo, has anyone noticed how there are fewer people active on this thread? Been checking the stats on here for months. Noticed a pattern. A guy comes in and snoops too hard into Terra Lattice and just poof. Is the system hiding something massive? What’s the real tea here? Gonna get to the bottom of this. Just watch me. If this is my last post then sayonara bros! The conspiracy is a fact! SOMETHING’S UP!’”

⎻ Last post from a user ‘DeepNetGuy’ posted on a forum intended for technology-related discussions.

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“Excuse the mess.” Gabriel said as he unlocked one of the many doors on this particular floor. He mentioned that there’s this one and an upper one where some contractors reside. The rent was high, and a contractor had to be well-established and trusted to be even considered for living in one of those flats.

When I stepped over the threshold, I could immediately tell that the place was well-taken care of. My vision was much more enhanced than that of a human, so I was able to tell that he cleaned this place today. The small amount of dust and the faint smell of cleaning products indicated as such.

I guess the phrase ‘excuse the mess’ was simply said out of politeness and not because there was any mess to excuse.

“You can sit on the couch and make the repair. Do you need anything else for it? I have some synthfluid if you need some.” I checked my synthfluid levels, and I was slightly running low. Nothing that would impact my physical state, but just to be safe it wouldn’t hurt to refill them.

“Then I wouldn’t mind around a hundred milliliters, if you’re alright with that.” I said as I sat on the couch and prepared to mend my knee.

“No problem. I have some lying around. Just in case, y’know.” He answered.

Synthfluid was not something that a synthoid had to replace or add every so often. More so, just when it was lost due to some reason, like an injury in my case. It was a substance that helped with motor functions and moved nanobots around our bodies, so it was pretty important. It acted a bit like a helper to our equivalent of a human’s immunity system.

I saw Gabriel pull out a glass from a cabinet. The kitchen was in the middle of the living room. I also noticed two doors. With a quick x-ray scan, I noticed that one door led to a bathroom and the other to the bedroom. Not that Gabriel needed to use either of them.

I took the strange piece of hardware I got from Moose and put it next to my, now uncovered, injured knee. I started a command to get the nanobots working in the near outside radius of the wound, and I was able to get confirmation that they’d be able to finish the repair with this piece of hardware.

“Here you go.” Gabriel put the glass with synthfluid on the coffee table that was right in front of the couch. “Would you like some privacy?” He asked as his eyes quickly scanned over my injury. I couldn’t parse the emotional response he had from such a visual.

“No. It’s fine. The repair will only take around fifteen minutes to complete.” I wanted to ask him a couple of questions meanwhile.

“If you’re sure. Mind if I sit?” He nodded towards the other end of the couch.

“No. Go for it.” I checked my running processes once more. Still the memory viewing one had priority. I saw a flash of eyes widened in fear as I blinked to moisturize my ocular implants.

“I had some questions regarding this place.” I started tentatively. From what I managed to gather about the Contractors’ dynamics and values, they seemed to be a distrustful and cautious group, but also one that didn’t turn their back on someone like me.

“Of course. Shoot.” The blonde man said as I felt a quick neutronium impulse turn into an electric command in a device on the opposite side of the room. A soft music started to play.

He had great control over his technomancy. That being the skill of communicating with machines that relied on electrical or neutronium power. The term lost its magical connotations many years ago. Now it just meant mastery over technology using your implants, or in synthoids’ case just their neutronium-based command impulses.

Back to the questions I had, most had to do with my current situation. As in living somewhere and working. I, unlike biological creatures, didn’t need a bathroom or a bed, but my own space would be welcome.

Also, more importantly, I would need money. Currency was, in most cases, a power over what resources I could gather. If there was a situation in which I would get injured like not so long ago, and there wouldn’t be anyone that could give me the materials I needed, then I would either need to steal those or buy them. The latter came with less exposure, which I would need to prioritize if I didn’t want to confront Fran-Mili anytime soon. Not until I’d get the hardware I needed to neutralize the effect of a clearing collar, which would undoubtedly cost me some chips.

“Are there any rules, or unspoken agreement I should follow?” There was no information on the web about the Contractors. They didn’t even have a webpage, so I couldn’t check the customs.

When in a new environment, or among a new group, one should always follow their rules and behaviors to acclimate themselves. That’s what the social protocols I had said.

“Rules? I guess we have some. You should get access to them and the terms of conduct when Tony sends you your PCI credentials. For now though, you only need to know that we don’t like corporations unless it’s to buy something you can’t get anywhere else. Like firearms and combat gear. Those things are highly regulated by the GUF so even we have to stick to that.” As he reclined back on the couch, I thought back to my violent interaction with the corporation that created me. Also, to that memory that resurfaced not so long ago.

“Alright. I won’t have issues with that.” I looked back at my injured knee and remembered the brutality with which I got rid of that execution squad.

“Now, I feel inclined to ask you about how you got that injury. It wasn’t caused by a regular gun, was it?” By a regular gun, he probably meant one that a civilian could get. Not a highly penetrative power rifle that caused me this grief.

“No. Fran-Mili surprised me on landing.” I admitted to Gabriel. Not like I should keep it a secret.

“I see.” The blond man seemed to think for a second, and then he said, “That happens more often than is known. I’m still struggling with my own past.” He gestured to the flat in a round gesture, “Normally, I wouldn’t be able to afford this place, you know. Moose lets me stay here because the people that used to own me are very influential. They would get to me anywhere else.” With a resigned sigh and a neutronium impulse, he changed the song to something more upbeat.

“So this is Moose’s place?” I asked. The place didn’t seem to be lived in by a human.

“Oh, no! Moose’s dad is the head of the Nova York branch. He’s the big dog ‘round here.” He looked at me and softly said, “I got lucky making friends with him, otherwise who knows what would become of me?” Then he laughed as he slapped his knee, “Anyway, sorry for making the topic so harrowing. I promise it’s not so bad around here. The jobs might not pay as good as one would expect from the danger factor, but it’s still better than nothing.”

So I guess I got lucky as well. Moose didn’t seem like he had a bad opinion of me. I should try to get on his good side.

[Incoming message from Tony Wowzzini.]

I got a notification. Was that Tony’s surname? It didn’t look real, but I guess the messaging system did not need an official designation to be provided, just whatever you wanted it to be.

Tony probably got my messaging ID when he applied for the test. That moment was still blurry in my memory bank, which was highly unusual.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

I opened the message and saw a massive block of text that was basically a small guide on how to navigate the PCI system. There was a lot of information and the software in itself was quite extensive. For a non-corporation program, this was impressive.

The main interface was simple. There was a main window in which I would have to put a picture ID, alias and a specialization. Next to that would go information about stats such as strength, stealth, and whatnot. There was also a secondary and tertiary window to input my chosen skills and recent contracts I’ve had. At the very bottom of the window were five stars in a line that would indicate cumulative ratings I would receive upon the completion of a contract.

“I got Tony’s message. It says here I’m not eligible for contracts yet. What does it mean?” Above the main window were five tabs. The first one read ‘List of contracts’, then there were ‘messages’, ‘contacts’, ‘settings’ and ‘Terms of Conduct’.

The list of contracts was unavailable to me, but the rest I could access easily enough.

“Oh, right. Before you’re like a full member of the Contractors you have to shadow somebody on an official contract. That determines if you’re ready to take on that kinda job.” He got up and went to a small window through which the concrete surface of a neighboring building was visible. “For example, if you take on a combat-based job first, that would make you eligible for taking contracts of that type just by yourself.” He opened the window and air rushed in. I could sense traces of pollution flowing in with the breeze.

“What other types of jobs are there? Except combat ones.” I was an exceptional combatant, but I wondered what other work I might be able to do. Since I was a military synthoid, my main functions were not focused on negotiation for example.

“Well, simple courier work and odd jobs. Whatever someone needs. You could get a short or long contract depending on a task. Some simply want a worker, but then you kind of know that the place might not be too legitimate in the eyes of the GUF.” Gabriel leaned on the edge of the windowsill.

“I see. Do you have any recommendations who I could ask? I would prefer combat focused work.” That was what I was best at after all.

Surprisingly, Gabriel’s face took on a slight grimace. I asked because he seemed very accommodating so far. I figured out that was due to our similarities as SSUs.

“Moose or Rin take on mostly combat work. I imagine if you were to ask either of them they would agree. Well, you might have some trouble with Rin, but she’s nicer than she looks. She’ll listen if you ask.” He looked defeated for some reason. I wondered why.

“Thank you,” I said. Gabriel looked at me with a subtle questioning look. “For helping me with all of this.” I’ve gotten lucky meeting him. If there were only humans in this building, this whole situation might’ve looked much differently.

“Of course. No problem. We should help each other, right? There’s only so many SSUs out there.” After he finished his sentence, I got a notification that the repair was done.

I looked down at my knee and I could see that the artiflesh had been mended. Now, there was only a slight buzzing left there from nanobots’ finishing touches on my skin-like exterior.

“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something.” He turned his entire body to me. His arms were crossed, and a determined look appeared on his face. Gabriel was very expressive for a synthoid. I nodded, that yes, he could ask me. Then he said, “Would you like to live with me? Here?”

I took a couple of milliseconds to process the verbal information I received.

Well, I didn’t expect him to ask me that.

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Turns out that Gabriel didn’t ask me to stay with him for free. He wanted something in return. He wanted me to teach him how to fight.

When I heard his reason, I asked him why. The answer I got was not very substantial.

“There’s just more combat work.” I could tell that wasn’t the main reason since through all the interactions I’ve had with him, he appeared to be genuine in all of them. He didn’t look genuine when he said that, though.

I didn’t push. It didn’t seem necessary at the time. It would also be rude, I would wager.

Now, as I stood above the man, I wondered if maybe I've taken on an impossible task.

Two days have passed since he offered me to ‘crash’ at his place. Two days of this.

Synthoid bodies were much more durable and stronger than human ones. Sometimes more flexible too, but that depended on what type of work the synthoid in question was tasked to do.

Synthfiber that built our muscles was not the same in every model. The more fibers it had, the more fiber density could be achieved. Therefore, the more strength could be extrapolated from the synthetic body. That was not something that could be augmented down the line in synthoid’s lifespan.

Gabriel was made to be a companion model. Durable and easy to fix, but not to be strong or flexible enough to match somebody of my engineering.

What he could change, though, was his combat protocols.

However, in a bout of pure strength and combat might, he stood no chance against me. He would never stand a chance against someone like me. Not in hand-to-hand combat at least.

Even a child could annihilate me with the right weapon after all.

“Again.” Gabriel said as he got up. There was no grunting or deep breaths since those things were not necessary for synthoid to work. What he did have to do, though, was to open up his combat protocols to edit as our spar went on.

We started to go through the motions again and again. It would take countless times to make his combat programming even a little effective against me.

But I guessed that his goal was not to fight a combat oriented synthoid, but a human being.

With enough of whatever this was, he should be able to neutralize the threat more often than not in a straight fight.

I didn’t dare run a calculation on that, though.

“I think this is enough.” With a brutal throw, Gabriel’s body tumbled through the open space that was the basement of the Contractor’s hall.

It was massive, compared to the first floor area. There was a gym here, but also some storage space.

I was able to throw Gabriel around without the fear of knocking something over, so that was great.

Even though he wasn’t a combat unit, it was still a rare experience to fight somebody with mostly matching toughness. When I sparred with Jack, for example, I had to be extremely limited with what I could do, so I wouldn’t hurt him too badly.

Gabriel was to me what a punching bag was to a human in this situation.

Wait. That didn’t sound very nice.

“I can do more, though.” The blond man said as he got up.

“I know, but I need to go to the GUF for my identification.” There wasn’t any expiration date on the message I received, but I wanted to be done with that part of becoming a SSU.

Apparently, I needed that to get a firearm license and receive official compensation if I were to do corporate work. I couldn’t see the latter happening anytime soon or at all, but I needed a gun. Without that, I was just a sitting duck in a fight.

I checked and around 80 percent of Nova York residents carried a weapon. That is excluding the children, of course.

“Right. Want me to tag along? I could show you some places ‘round here worth knowing.” He seemed eager, but I needed to refuse. Considering that I didn’t think Fran-Mili would stop their attempt at reclaiming me, I wouldn’t like to put Gabriel in a potential danger. Especially knowing his fighting skills.

“No, it’s alright. Maybe some other time. I’ll still need to buy some weapons after I get my license.” I offered an alternative. He didn’t seem either surprised or upset over my refusal.

“That’d be nice. You’re going now? If so, please take this to Tony. I’m still going to be here for a while.” Gabriel went towards his bag and pulled out a piece of tangled up wires that seemed to be taken out of some, I would say, audio machine?

“Sure.” I took it from him and turned to leave. “See you later.” I called as I started climbing the stairs.

When I came up to the main hall, it was as packed as the first time I’ve been here. Seemed like it was a hub for Contractors and people associated with them. There was always so much going on.

I heard conversations about a potential contract, an ideological debate here and there, but most often I heard loud arguments pertaining to guns.

The last topic seemed to be mostly occupied by Rin from what I’ve managed to gather in the last two days.

“Tony, I have something for you. It’s from Gabriel.” I put the wires on the counter and walked off after Tony thanked me for bringing them to him.

As I was nearing the exit, I was stopped by Rin. Her face was twisted in mostly perpetual scowl.

“Yo! Where are you going?” She asked as she blocked my path.

“I have to get my GUF identification.” I answered honestly. I’ve spoken with Rin only one other time since my first day here, and it was a short conversation. Rin just told me to be careful, but there was no care in her voice at all when she said that.

I decided that the best course of action I could take with her was to just be honest. Even though I took the V-F test, she still seemed reluctant to trust me, which I actually found to be intelligent considering what I heard about the near constant attempts at spying on this group.

“Really? I’m coming with you, then.” She said as she stepped next to me. I wasn’t even surprised at this course of action. She wanted to watch me.

Unlike with Gabriel, I wasn’t concerned about Rin’s well-being if I were to be attacked by Fran-Mili. She seemed capable enough in combat from what I could observe from the confident way she was standing, and a big handgun strapped to her hip. I also heard from Gabriel that she was the best gunman around, which at the time seemed like an implausible scenario considering the number of people in this place.

Alas, from what I heard around, that seemed to be the common consensus.

She was going to be quite fine if there was going to be a fight.

Without another word, I walked out of the Contractors’ HQ and headed towards the GUF building, with Rin matching my every step.