After breakfast, I went to see our in-house doctor to pick up a new training program. I had already mastered the previous one three days ago, but my schedule had been too packed to drop by earlier. Mike greeted me with a silent wave, his focus fixed on his computer screen as he continued his work.
"I've completed everything, scored a hundred percent on the test," I announced, returning the training chip to him while observing his contemplative expression.
"Just a minute," he responded.
"Sure," I shrugged, taking a seat nearby and waiting quietly as Roosevelt updated the training software.
"Here, I've included a few advanced biology topics that might be useful if you're considering a career in biology," he mentioned, handing back the chip before immersing himself in his tasks again.
"Thanks. If you need me, I'll be at Rick's place, though you probably know that already." Leaving the nomad's trailer, I made my leisurely way back home.
Living with the Bakker clan over the years, I've adapted to their lifestyle and even come to appreciate the broader meaning behind the term "nomad." It signifies more than just perpetual motion; it represents a distinct social stratum with its own characteristic values and traits.
Although we formed a closely-knit community, personal secrets were respected, and privacy was guarded. The clan's six core principles, taught from childhood, foster harmony and mutual assistance when needed. There are outliers, of course, but they only serve to prove the rule.
Upon entering the workshop tent, I found Rick tweaking a simplified reactor, closely monitoring the system's readings by a stand labeled "nomad." He was motivated to emulate my achievements, and after months of effort, he was nearing completion of his own suit based on the designs I had provided. The "nomad" was essentially an improved compilation of my individual creations. The chest plate, now with an integrated reactor, was just one example of the enhancements made for better protection. Each component was more a refinement than a novelty. There's no point in reinventing the wheel.
"You're late today," the technician remarked gruffly, without pausing his work.
"I made a detour to see Roosevelt first," I explained, pausing by the stand to examine the suit's subtle modifications. "Looks like you're about to wrap up here."
"Yeah, I've added a few personal modifications and now I want to put them to the test. How about joining me for a trial run to see how our prototypes stack up?" Rick shot me a quick look, pausing his hand near the wrist-mounted display on his right arm.
"Sure," I agreed, my attention immediately drawn to my own armor displayed next to us. It boasted several upgrades over the original model, notably enhanced armor plating and new auxiliary software I had developed. This software acted as a virtual interface, managing various combat functions, from anti-hacking measures to hacking capabilities.
I was also on the verge of completing a helmet that incorporated tactical map functionalities and displayed vital information through a built-in visor, streamlining the control over the entire suit. Its design was influenced by the Max-Tac special forces' protective gear, albeit with my adjustments for increased protection and advanced technology.
"Looks like you've nearly finished with your latest project too. Got some inspiration from Max-Tac's gear?"
"Precisely," I said with a pleased smile, gently touching the blue glass of the visor. "The police armor was a solid starting point, and I thought it could use some enhancements. I'm quite happy with the results."
"Right... I'm set as well," the technician remarked, giving the armored chest plate a tap to kickstart the system. Perfecting the quick-donning mechanism for the "nomad" suit was still on the to-do list.
Without waiting for him to strap on his "chest rig," I quickly donned my gear, attaching the helmet to its custom mounts to seal it airtight. The suit's internal air supply was good for thirty minutes of use without external oxygen tanks. Regrettably, the cost of implementing a self-contained breathing system was prohibitive, leaving room for further innovation on a budget.
Once we were both suited up, Rick led the way with a wave, and we silently made our way to the local firing range, which resembled the typical refuse heaps dotting the landscape outside Night City. The city's relentless dumping had allowed the landfill to grow beyond all reasonable bounds, yet this fact seemed to deter the city officials little. It remained more cost-effective for them to pile up the garbage than to invest in recycling. Petrochem had once floated the idea of repurposing the waste, but those plans had yet to move beyond mere talk.
"Guess it's time to begin..." With a deep sigh, the technician activated his armor's combat mode.
The protective systems' test turned out to be quite a success. We encountered some minor glitches with energy conversion and distribution to the shield system, but we quickly resolved these by adjusting the current flow to various sections of the armor. Ultimately, we achieved our objective and produced a fully operational prototype. In today's world, the "nomad" wouldn't really turn heads. Major corporations are already rolling out similar tech for their special forces, utilizing their proprietary designs and superior materials. Our version essentially serves as a budget-friendly alternative, enhanced with innovative features that replicate cybernetic implants like gorilla arms or cyber legs, enabling remarkable leaps.
However, such suits lack appeal for the general public, overshadowed by the widespread adoption of augmentations. These, albeit pricier, offer more pervasive applications. The prospect of competing with implants barely fazed me — I knew all too well that even under the best circumstances, my resources would fall short of meeting the bare minimum market demand. Crafting these suits as bespoke, one-off pieces could be an option, but that direction didn't align with my future aspirations. Venturing into the technology trade carries its risks; misplacing my inventions could ensnare me in the grips of a megacorporation. Such entities, with their vast resources and networks, could effortlessly coerce me into their service. Far from an appealing scenario, hence my decision to steer clear of such contemplations...