Two weeks later - the flea market in Japantown
For a week now, there have been some strange movements among the gangs in the city. They started to appear much more frequently, and most importantly, our workshop began to overflow with their orders, mainly concerning weapon upgrades. Something was definitely brewing, and I didn't like it one bit.
By the way, we recently got our hands on a security bot made by the "Sovoyl" corporation, sold for the price of scrap metal. It was badly damaged, and repairing it without specialized equipment was quite a challenge.
My mentor, with my modest assistance, managed to get the droid back on its feet, but that was about it. It processed any commands only after a few seconds, and needless to say, its execution was also lacking. The robot needed a complete overhaul, which might seem more expensive than buying a new one at first glance. A brand-new security droid of this model costs 50,000 eddies, equivalent to the price of a decent car. However, the repair would only cost about a quarter of that amount, not counting the theoretical value of the work we put in.
We named the droid "Larry", or more accurately, Sue named it. She had long wanted a personal robot, and now my mentor was working day and night trying to smarten up this pile of dumb metal. For me, this was an invaluable experience, definitely useful in the future. So I tried to help her in every way, asking questions that intrigued me as we repaired Larry.
But my dealings weren't limited to problematic droids alone. I began to gradually learn real-time hacking. My mentor started teaching me the art of netrunning, in which she wasn't exactly a novice but considered herself more of an average practitioner. Her skills allowed me to immediately avoid the mistakes any self-taught beginner runner would make, saving time that would otherwise be spent searching for answers to questions that arose during the learning process. Having a teacher speeds up the learning process significantly, especially when both the teacher and the student are eager to do their best.
The biggest problem for local hackers is their vulnerability during hacking. In those three seconds when I'm frozen, I could be shot ten times over. I didn't like this at all, and now my main task was to increase my hacking speed to at least one second. Many local cyborgs, with their myriad of implants, move at speeds impossible for the normal human eye to perceive, and the only way to stop them at the moment is to hack their metal insides in advance.
And if a person has a special implant installed in their head, hacking them becomes even more difficult. In some cases, it's faster to knock out such a netrunner than to try to fry their brain. People here aren't exactly fools, though they may not seem so at first glance. They don't tend to show off their smarts, and if there are such idiots, they're quickly killed as a lesson to others. Death in Night City is commonplace. Every day someone dies, but the most interesting thing is that everyone just doesn't care. - "Dead and gone, why fuss about it?" - And yet, in such situations, even people close to me could end up…
***
Mitchell's Workshop, two days later
Today, Susan decided to give her little assistant the day off. The situation in Japantown was becoming increasingly tense with each passing day. Gangs openly flaunted their weapons on the streets, and even the cops tried to stay out of their feuds. A clash between the Tigers and the Maelstrom was inevitable, but that didn't stop the young woman from preparing for possible "unforeseen" circumstances.
The droid, which the brunette had been repairing for almost two weeks, was nearly complete. All that was left was to upload a set of behavioral commands that would give Larry enough autonomy to reduce the number of requests for executing complex sequences of actions. Essentially, she was creating a full-fledged "VI" (Virtual Intelligence), which differed from its descendant "AI" (Artificial Intelligence) in that it could not independently solve assigned tasks.
"Okay, now for the final touch... All set, next comes the self-installation and system calibration. I love automation..."
Sue connected her computer to her droid's port and started the data archive transfer. The estimated upload time was about a minute, so she decided to take a short break, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. On the small round table next to it was a long-cooled cup of coffee that Mitchell had forgotten about, engrossed in her work. Taking the cold drink, she took a small sip and grimaced in displeasure. The coffee's taste left much to be desired, but by that time, there was nothing left in the workshop except for one pathetic packet of instant coffee.
"Darn, forgot to buy again, and now I have to drink this swill..." The woman sighed heavily, quickly emptying her cup.
Usually, it was Alex who took care of the food, constantly reminding his mentor to replenish their supplies. Although Susan was a brilliant technician and a good ripper, she had her human weaknesses. She was quite lazy, which manifested in her tendency to postpone less important tasks. Her apprentice was quite stubborn about personal nutrition, frequently expressing his dissatisfaction to his mentor when she skipped meals or snacked on some junk from a nearby eatery.
"Ah... Did I fall asleep?" The brunette looked around the room with sleepy eyes and, stretching her stiff limbs, turned her gaze to the robot, which stood motionless in its place. Sighing heavily, Susan tried to stand up, but her legs felt like jelly. She began to fall face forward, unable to hold herself up on her trembling, weak limbs.
***
"F*ck, she must have had an antidote implant (capable of countering various poisons). It took a while for her to finally pass out." A member of the Maelstrom gang looked discontentedly at the woman lying on the floor. "Jimmy, are you sure you disabled the cameras?"
"Kenny, are you f*cking kidding me?" The man named "Jimmy" pointed discontentedly to the deactivated camera on the ceiling. "Wait, I'll check the droid." The thug activated the activity analyzer in his visor and meticulously examined the robot. "Piece of scrap metal... She wanted to get it up and running but didn't have the time. I'll do something just in case." The hacker sent a script to the droid's systems that was supposed to cause an overload in the entire system, thereby burning Larry's insides out. "Done, we can take her now."
"This bitch owes us big time, and I don't want to deal with the 'kittens' who might try to take this hole back from us." The Maelstrom member kicked the woman in the ribs with his heavy boot, causing her face to grimace in displeasure even in her unconscious state.
"Calm down, jackass. If you keep kicking her like that, she might die accidentally. The dame has to finish our sanctuary, and she can't do that with broken ribs." Jimmy placed his hand on his companion's shoulder, distracting him from his momentary brutality.
"This bitch zeroed* (local slang for killed) my brother," protested the gang member, but refrained from further harming the brunette.
"You done?"
"Get your hand off me..." Kenny brushed off his friend's hand and, picking up the woman's body, hurriedly carried her to the car parked near the workshop entrance. "Now she won't be able to run away from us. Been chasing her for four years..." The Maelstrom member roughly threw the body into the trunk and slammed it shut.
"Well let's delta. The 'kittens' might show up soon, and I don't want to fix my ride again..."
The gang members worked quickly and, most importantly, carefully, which would throw any pursuers off their trail. Members of the "Maelstrom" gang don't usually operate this way, preferring to make a show of their actions. This situation was an exception, requiring a bit of caution, as the Tiger Claws' trackers have extensive connections and resources that could help them find their "assets" anywhere in Night City. The gang leader didn't like this scenario, so he sent his best hands for the job, who, in his opinion, wouldn't mess up in this tricky affair.
Jimmy and Kenny hastily drove out of the inner courtyard, unaware that the robot in the workshop had managed to record their faces and the number of cars they used to flee the area. Larry's owner had anticipated the possibility that the robot could be hacked and attempted to be burned from the inside, so she installed a system that simulated the robot's malfunction. It absorbed the first hit, temporarily blocking all incoming signals, and leading most activity analyzers to receive erroneous information. Ultimately, the system fully justified itself, only the robot's owner herself was unaware of this...