The Repository in the City Center was one of my favorite places in all of Night City.
It was an upscale shop that catered to the older folks of the city, or those like me who were old souls in a young body. A fusion between a private library and a cafe with a variety of luxury goods not normally available, it had an expansive collection of over four and a half thousand genuine paperback and hardcover books from the early 1900s to the 2030s when the hard copy printing industry was all but replaced with digitization. Sure, there were a few artisanal printing companies still left in the world, but they specialized in limited production runs that were auctioned off to the prestigious elites of the world and not available to the general public for purchase; given I'd taken a chance to see one of the auctions a few years back and found that a new run copy of the American classic 'The Catcher in the Rye' went for nearly €$150,000 I blanched.
Miss Astelle Hastings, the proprietress, amassed her collection here by paying various Nomad tribes hefty bounties for books that they'd found in the older parts of the States; sure, they wouldn't make as much money for selling to her, but at least they knew that she wouldn't send a hit squad after them to retrieve the money once the transaction wasn't complete.
On top of the extensive library, there was a small but genuine selection of foodstuffs that were made using real ingredients purchased in limited quantities from upscale organic growers and producers in Europe, South America, and South Africa. It was expensive, but I found the expense worth the trade-off of being reminded what real food tasted like. They also had real coffee- not the synth dross or the 'real' powdered coffee- made from organically grown beans in South America and imported directly to Night City, wherein The Repository roasted and ground them in-house for direct consumption of the customer.
It cost me €$350 for the cover, an Americano with an extra shot of espresso, a freshly baked croissant with organic butter and sea salt, and a single bar of artisanal dark chocolate from Swiss chocolatiers. It wasn't an expense I made lightly, but it was for my mental health and Tanya's physical enjoyment. The chance to sit down in a well-lit, lavishly furnished corner cubby with lots of large cushions and a real paperback book was something that I relished in- a small slice of normalcy to the world I had been living in, and that was worth the premium in my opinion. That Ernesto, the shop's barista, could almost make a cup as fine as Viktorya was a true treat... and I treated it like a treat; if I came for my 'full course' once a month then that was almost too often as I loathed unnecessary expenses.
The only dim light on this whole experience was that even though the owner's youngest daughter, Clarice Hastings, a girl a few years older than myself, seemed to be sweet on me... I wasn't offered a discount for putting up with her awkward flirting attempts. However, truth be told, it wasn't the flirting that I disliked, if anything her interest in Tanya's body was a slight confidence booster- that my eddies on my gene mods and biosculpting were not a waste. What had my ire was that I paid good money for the two hours I was allotted to relax and read, and when Clarice arrived she distracted me with idle conversation about her latest band fascination. I did not get additional time added to my visitation clock.
To contrast this, Miss Hastings, whenever she decided to drop by and visit me made sure to drop by after my time had expired, and she usually brought treats for Tanya with her!
As far as I am concerned, while that clock is ticking I am a customer, a well-paying customer, and if I lose an hour entertaining her, and the bouncer, Emanuel, still comes up to my booth to escort me out of the building when my time has elapsed... then that is rather irritating. I have tried on numerous occasions to subtly hint that her appearance was disturbing my very expensive personal time, but all that seemed to accomplish was make her believe that I wanted to spend more time with her! Most vexing.
So to that point, I reached out through T-Bug's contacts and got the class schedule for Clarice's classes at Night City University for a small premium and began timing my visits to coincide with when she had class. It has mostly been successful, but there were times when she got out of class early and with her having access to the cafe's logs she always made sure to rush straight back to come and interrupt me.
"-and did you hear that 'Repurposed Chrome' was going to be doing a tour of all the dive bars in Night City? They're doing covers of all of 'Samurai's' set list, as well as a few of their original numbers-"
Case in point.
Spoiler: Clarice Hastings
Clarice was a rather comely young woman, wearing fashionably torn-up blue jeans with an artificial fade, a black studded belt around the swell of her hips, and a too-small wife beater with a Samurai logo that clung to her modest breasts. The fabric did little to conceal her mid-riff and the toned slopes of her belly, and along her left side, a large tattoo scrawled from her hips and up along the synth skin of her left shoulder. I couldn't see her footwear, but my eddy was on them either being real leather biker boots or a pair of 2060s reimagining of Converse sneakers that had been artificially aged.
Despite being a rich girl, she had a rather extensive list of external cyberware- premium Kiroshi Hi-Lite Mk.4 optics set to brown with a small gold ring around the pupil, Cranial Technica Tech-hair set to long, chestnut brown hair that flowed down her back, a discreet Falcon Customs Hi-Flyte Mod.2 netdeck, and two cyberware arms- both of which were brand new Militech Condor Mk. 1s. She had unfortunately lost her left arm in a car accident, and after a few months of being unbalanced, she opted to get her right arm replaced as well for symmetry purposes, along with a cyberware skeletal upgrade so that her body could handle the weight and strain of the two military-grade cyberware arms. She used to have them both covered in synth skin, but since she started college and began her Rocker Girl phase she's since removed the synth skin on one of her arms to be 'closer to her idol, Johnny Silverhand, and to better understand his struggle'.
Something I found utterly inane because she was a college student, from a family that owns a very lucrative luxury cafe, and is in the top 1% of wealthy families in Night City. She changed 'causes to champion' like she changed clothes, with almost a new one every time I saw her; when I saw her two months ago she was talking about supporting Biotechnica's initiatives to reintroduce Sperm Whales to the safer parts of the Indian Ocean... and now it was-
"-I really think that we should start supporting the dive bars and small concert venues in the city, don't you think, Tanya? I mean, those places are where the underground musicians and the like really get their start, you know? I'm sure my mom could finangle some eddies to help them... maybe fund some contests or a Battle of the Bands! That would be so preem, don't you think?"
I finished off the last dregs of my coffee, my eyes closed and savoring the earthy taste of true coffee... and I hummed in 'acknowledgment' to gather my thoughts.
"I think..." I began slowly, mainly to go through my memories and catalog what little I knew about the underground music scene, "... that attempting to do so might have the opposite effect that you are intending, Clarice."
Her eyebrows and nose scrunched up as she tilted her head, "What do you mean by that, Tanya? More eddies would mean that more musicians could play, and that would mean more musicians could have a chance at making it big! Why wouldn't that be helpful?"
I inhaled slowly as I settled my coffee mug onto the provided saucer before holding it to count to five before releasing it.
"I am not an expert in the music industry by any means, but I think that you have to ask yourself this question: as it sits right now, how many of the small-time garage bands actually make it big? How many tens of thousands of kids and adults with big dreams actually get a chance to sign a contract and make their own music for the masses? My estimation is that it is a very small number, less than 1% of 1%," I resisted the urge to grab my last square of Lindtstadt Special Dark chocolate because eating it now would only ruin the experience as I had to talk, "You also have to remember that the vast majority of these... bands... have very Anti-establishment and Anti-Corporation sentiments. Sure, some are following in the footsteps of the likes of Johnny Silverhand and the Samurai, but most of those just see the world through a lens where corrupt governments, the rich elites, and rampant corporatism have been at the root cause of a lot of their ails. That bleeds over into their music."
I interlaced my fingers and rested them on top of the table, my hard copy of 'The Temple of Dawn' by Mishima Yukino-sensei, left unfortunately forgotten next to my plate of chocolate, "Now, remember that all record labels in this day and age are in some form or fashion owned by the corporations- via entertainment umbrellas or shell corporations. Certainly there are labels that will sign controversial artists and sell their anti-establishment music, but that I believe is primarily a method to control the message of the opposition to the Corps and soften the message via carefully manipulated propaganda. Those bands who are talented but have the slightest modicum of awareness will see that, and even if they are scouted, they will have to make a choice between following their dreams of being wealthy and famous... and selling out to the Corps they claim to despise."
Clarice blinked as her jaw started to drop, "I... never really thought about that..."
A bit annoyed that my time was now down to only fifteen minutes- which meant I would have to finish my book on my next expensive visit- I leaned forward, "Now also think about what it is you wish to accomplish and how. Your family is very wealthy in Night City, and while I am a proponent of the wealthy spending their money in patronizing the arts, you must also be aware that your family is indeed in the top 1% of earners. Not only that, but your father is a junior member on Biotechnica's Night City board of directors, your eldest brother is a Department Head of SoftSys' Customer Relations, your middle brother is a junior City Councilman for the Night City Administration, and you, Clarice, are going to Night City University to study Business Administration."
I tilted my head, "Just imagine the optics- a wealthy family that has its fingers in every pie that these musicians and fans believe to be poison... attempting to fund anti-establishment, anti-corp, and anti-elite rhetoric via patronizing their music venues? If the dive bars and small music venues didn't outright reject the funding, then those that did would be cast out as 'sell-outs' and alienate their customer base. They wouldn't care that you are on their side, that you identify with their struggles... they would only see your family and you as what they believe you to be."
"Oh... wow," The teen's eyes watered a little bit as she rested her forehead against the palm of her silver hand, "I didn't think about it like that... it would look pretty gomi wouldn't it? Shit."
I shook my head as I leaned back against the cushions and crossed my arms under Tanya's breasts, "Yes. Though you and I would know that isn't the case, optics do matter- it's why Corps have a Face they present to the public; appearances can be everything to people who don't dig underneath the surface. The problem is those who would dig underneath the surface would only find deets that would confirm their preconceived notions; someone wealthy and connected trying to muscle in on their space. It wouldn't end well, I think, and your mother is very intelligent- she'd likely hear your idea and come to the exact same conclusions I have. So my advice? Just enjoy the dive bars and concerts, listen to Nova music, and have a good time; you're in college, enjoy the youth while it lasts."
She sniffed a bit as she wiped at her eyes with the knuckles of her synth skin hand, "Ack, come on Tanya! Why do you have to sound exactly like my mom! You're only sixteen!"
"Fifteen, actually, I won't be sixteen for eight months."
The university student puckered her lips as she pouted, "Ugh, you... need to loosen up and have more fun, Tanya. Being like my mother really isn't someone you should aspire, you know?"
Wealthy? Successful? Respected? That isn't worth aspiring toward? I beg to differ.
I blinked, "I was enjoying myself immensely, Clarice."
Until a certain someone came along to eat into my allotted alone time.
My coffee was delicious, the croissant and butter was sublime to my tastebuds that had been conditioned to find SCOP acceptable, and the chocolate? Divine. And the book was rather enthralling- when I'd been a High School student as Salaryman the 'Sea of Fertility Series' had been optional on one of my Japanese Literature reading lists, but I'd chosen to read something else instead. So the chance to read it here now, in a hard copy, while wondering just how the younger version of myself would have lamented about having to think about the messages and themes of the novels in the context of the post-Russo-Japanese war... well, it was relaxing.
My smile widened into something genuine at the thought... and for some reason, Clarice flushed deeply and fidgeted with her fingers, "A-ah... well... I guess your time is almost up, s-so I'll just let you go Tanya. Have a good one choom, and don't be a stranger!"
The Rocker-Girl-For-Now quickly stood up and walked away from my cubby- huh, so she was wearing real leather boots.
However, my smile turned into a frown. She hadn't misconstrued my meaning, had she? I didn't just throw another false-positive in her direction, did I?
I shook my head. No. That was impossible, I was quite clear with my intent.
I picked up the last square of chocolate and popped it into my mouth, a happy sigh leaving me as Tanya's feminine tastebuds delighted in the bitter, earthy tones of the rich dark chocolate. It took a great deal of willpower to just let it melt into a puddle in my mouth instead of chewing it, but once I could no longer hold back the urge I swallowed with a smile on my face.
My enjoyment was slightly smothered by the sight of Ernesto stalking up the stairs- the former NUSA Special Forces soldier was a tall, 2.1-meter brick of a man, with dark cocoa skin and a shaved head; the tailored suit he wore had ballistic panels woven into the flats and it was perfectly molded to his frame. Not even the Militech Gorilla Arms he had strained the fabric when he flexed his arms. A small scar ran from his lip to his eyebrow were a cybernetic orbital socket reinforcement surrounded his right eye, but with his elegant frameless, non-prescription glasses he looked cultured and unimposing despite his weighty build.
"Ah, Miss Tanya, I see that you're already aware that your time has expired." His voice was deep crushed velvet that seemed to make Tanya's inside quiver whenever he spoke and I was off-guard; it was very pleasing to the ears, and I half-suspected that he might have some form of cyberware to get that particular timbre.
I acknowledged that factoid as something that would have been somewhat true for me as well- when someone has a beautiful voice that was nothing wrong with admitting it.
"Yes, I am well aware, Ernesto, thank you," I stood up and grabbed my messenger bag before slinging it over my shoulder and adjusting it's position so that it was on my front- that way it wouldn't obstruct me from reaching for the Omaha to my front; it's front flap and body were also packed with ballistic panels, and should I need to I could lift up the flap, and with the large loop handle, secure it over my neck to protect my vital organs.
It was a half-decade out of fashion, even in Neo-Militarist circles, but it was more than ample to contain my belongings since I didn't like purses; idly I spared a thought about purchasing a third Omaha to place in the messenger bag's internal holster- so that I could have access to it easily once the front flap was pulled up, but I dismissed it. With my quarterly Biosculpting payment made even €$3,500 for another Omaha would make my finances tighter than I'd like, and a safety net ceased to be a safety net if you dipped into it with frivolous expenses- I already had two handguns and that was sufficient for now.
I stepped out of the comfy cubby, leaving the dishes and book where they lay for the service staff, and I was surprised when Ernesto offered me his arm... which I took out of politeness. He had to stoop over a little bit to walk with me down the stairs, "Miss Hastings just so happened to overhear your little conversation with Miss Clarice, and she was quite thankful that you diffused a potential land mind before she could step on it."
I schooled my features.
Of course there would be listening devices, I had already suspected it, but having seen no evidence of it I decided against snooping at my favorite relaxation spot- not that my current optics were high-end enough to search for electronics to begin with.
Years ago I merely decided to adopt a policy where I would not speak about anything in public that I wouldn't want to get to the ears of people who made it their business to know things.
"I am merely looking out for the well-being of Clarice," I replied as I digested his words and undertones, "If hearing some advice from a peer might have done more to help her expand her mental horizons and look more closely at the finer details then I am glad to be of service. Typically teenagers of Clarice's age group tend to listen to their chooms over those above them- be it parents of those in positions of authority."
"Regardless, Miss Hastings is thankful that you have likely diffused the situation before it could devolve into a spat between them, and for that, she wishes to give a gift- a small one, most assuredly, but a suitable one for services rendered," The man's deep voice vibrated as he chuckled, "She understands that you're going to go to the Night City Technical College Branch in Watson after this for your Level 3 Cyberware Technician certification, yes?"
I fought down the urge to flinch- such a thing wasn't that difficult to find out, especially not for someone with the connections that Miss Hastings has. So I simply played along, "Yes, that is correct. The test isn't for another two hours, but I intended to leave now and arrive early; I had some questions I wanted answered from the proctors, as well as to inspect the Cyberware Inhibitor shards prior to inserting one into my ports."
He hummed, "Well, taking the NCART would only get you there forty-five minutes early. Miss Hastings is rather pleased that her gift here will be more useful than she anticipated."
As we reached the front doors of the cafe, Ernesto released my arm and straightened up to his full height as an attendant wearing a fancy waiter's suit walked over briskly carrying a tray with a very thick, zippered binder on top of it, "And the printing request that you made? Miss Hastings says that it is on the house."
I felt my breath catch in my throat.
That binder was a custom printing request I made of the cafe weeks ago in preparation for the test that I was about to take today- it was the 'International Cyberware Technician's Bible of 2065', the Revised Edition of 2067 that came out a few months ago. It was 1137 pages that contained all of the agreed upon standards, regulations, and legal strictures which all corps and world governments agreed upon. The funny thing about the Technician's Certifications was that while no cyberware or electronics were allowed- other than those who had cyberware replacement limbs- the actual Technician's Bible was on the approved list for taking the test with; it just had to be a hard copy, which was expensive, and of course this factoid was buried in the fine print.
Most just assumed that you had to have the various rules, regulations, and additional legalities memorized, and that wasn't the case at all. You could have the book on hand to take the test with, it was just expensive to get a physical hard copy and most believed that it was like their other educational experiences where you couldn't have any reference material at all.
The printing alone was going to cost me €$800- with half-up front and half upon receipt!
"Thank you, Ernesto, Filius," I gave them both a smile as I took the 23-kilogram binder and slipped it into my messenger bag; noting that if I had that third Omaha in its holster the binder wouldn't have fit at all.
"Not a problem, Miss Tanya," Ernesto's eyes glowed and I accepted the peer-to-peer financial transaction on my Agent, with the €$400 I paid being returned to my accounts, "Miss Hastings is very pleased to have an impressive young woman such as yourself patronizing her establishment; whether you know it or not you have had a dramatic impact on helping Clarice mature over the years."
I smiled politely and nodded, "I have noticed that Clarice has been growing well, though I am curious as to where the desire to commit herself to causes that might not have any lasting impact came from... if she wanted to be helpful and make a real difference then a simple but substantial donation of eddies to the orphanages around Night City would do a considerable amount of good- with some oversight, of course. My Matron has always handled the donations I've made over the years with great care, putting the eddies where they would be of the best use, but I cannot claim to say that the same could be said for every orphanage."
Ernesto's head turned up toward the mirrored glass wall of the office overlooking the entirety of the cafe, his eyes glowing, and then he blinked before giving me a smile that showed off his pearly white teeth, "Miss Hastings says... that is an effort she would approve of, and if you weren't needed elsewhere for an appointment she would have invited you up to her office to discuss things further... though on second thought she would ask you to broach the subject with Clarice instead. It wouldn't do to get directly involved, not when Clarice seems to have some energy that needs direction."
The call he was on ended and the large man shrugged his shoulders, "Besides, I think that if Clarice does choose to pursue it... it would be best for her to think that it was all her idea. Something that would give her some actual responsibility... though I'm sure Miss Hastings would ask that you not make it too easy for her."
I gave the man a gracious dip of the head, "I can provide her with some contact information for various parties that might be interested, and give her some of the information that I have about the actual state of the orphanages that the City might not be so keen to provide. However, if she decided to work with the office that administrates the City's orphanage system that would be more attractive- her brother is a City Councilmember is he not?"
More than one party could stand to gain political goodwill with the populace for only a small investment in eddies; a million or two gathered from donations of the rich socialites, disguised as tax breaks, could do a great deal to provide for the orphanage system's needs provided they could keep it out of the pockets of those who'd seek to reap profits.
Earnesto gave me a broad grin as he huffed, "You have a keen mind, Miss Tanya. I will be sure to relay that to Miss Hastings. For now, however, Miss Hastings has taken the liberty of providing you with an express cab to the Testing Facility. Good luck."
I gave him a short bow, turned toward the glass window high above and repeated the gesture, because Night City was still big on small shows of appreciation like this even after Arasaka had left Night City, and made my way toward the door. The automatic doors swung open, and just as I was about to step through Ernesto called out.
"Oh, and one last thing, Miss Tanya? I heard that the examination this year might be a sight more complex than you might have expected, for you in particular, so I do hope you studied hard."
I felt a small thrill run up my spine but I suppressed anything further, instead turning my head and giving the man a confident smile, "I have studied very hard for it. Thank you for the heads up, Ernesto."
He shook his head, "Just doing what I can to ensure that my boss' favorite young customer doesn't stumble and fall without there being an inkling as to why she was tripped up. Also, your ride is the black and white Delamain cab at the corner- I forgot to mention it earlier."
Ominous.
"Until we meet again, Ernesto."
"I and Miss Hastings always look forward to your next visit, carry on."
I exited the cafed, steering wide of a pair of bespoke-suited Corpos wearing Zetatech lanyards around their neck, and made my way down the concrete steps- stepping around the large, meters-long concrete planters filled with dirt and year-round plants with large green leaves. It was easy to slip into the crowd of suits and people wearing fashionable clothing as this deep in the seat of the City's power everyone had a healthy respect for personal space. I followed the natural curve of the sidewalk and made my way down to the corner were a sleek, but neo-militarist-styled Villefort Cortes was waiting, parked into a taxi cab spot with its hazard lights flashing. It was black in color, with white checkerboarding running along the side, and as I got closer I could see the glass was very thick and the frame and panels were likewise reinforced.
Spoiler: Delamain Cab
The back rear passenger door opened up as I approached, and I quickly slid inside, moving my messenger bag to the other seat. The front screen in front of me read 'Delamain Corp' with a distinct 'D' logo, which was quickly replaced with the visage of a bald man with pale skin wearing a plain black suit and red tie.
"Greetings, Tanya Degurechaff, I am Delamain, and I will be your chauffeur for the rest of the evening; at least to and from the NC Tech-U branch in Watson. Further stops will be charged to you as required.
I must inform you that all Delamain cab rides include basic health insurance, protection against potential attacks, and complementary conversation regarding topics of your choice with me, Delamain. Clients can also upgrade to the Excelsior package, which includes the standard service package plus complete health coverage, active passenger medical scanning, combat mode, and free corpse disposal in the event of the client's death.
Miss Hastings has not paid for your upgrade to the Excelsior package, however she has paid the fee for the Premium Combat Extraction Package from our a la cart menu. Should I detect that you are in danger, then I will immediately deploy my cyber countermeasures and flee the scene. Additionally, should you feel that you are in immediate danger, and I am unable to identify the threat, then please say the following command: 'Delamain, customer override: Initiate Combat Mode' and I will immediately make all due haste to your chosen destination.
My recommendation would be the closest NCPD office, however, you may choose that your intended final destination of the Heywood Angels Orphanage be where I speed to."
I tilted my head to the side, "Ah, are you the same Delamain AI that purchased the Delamain Corporation last year? I remember hearing about you in the Night City Financial Times."
The AI seemed to take a moment to process the query before he nodded, "Yes, I am Miss Degurechaff. The fact that I am an AI... I hope that it won't be a problem? I understand that ever since the Data Krash and the advent of the Black Wall that AI aren't seen in a very good light."
I mulled his question over for a moment before shaking my head, "No. I don't believe it will be an issue; I saw that after you took control of the company, your financial reports have once more returned to the green. Not only that, but you've paid off the outstanding loans from the previous owners. If anything your efforts to right the ship seem exemplary, however, I will say that- and this is just unsolicited advice- you might wish to consider hiring human staff once you feel that you have the resources to do so. An AI and people working together to run a successful company would do a lot to improve your public image- not that the impeccable service you provide hasn't already done a great deal. It's just that profitability for a company means little if there are no people to benefit from it; having even a few dozen human employees of acceptable merit would go a long way to soften your public image."
The bald AI seemed to pause for a moment before it gave me a bland smile, though the tone was more jovial, "Ah, thank you very much, Miss Degurechaff. You are most kind. I will dedicate some run time to assessing whether or not such advice would be economically feasible at this moment, but I will not say that I haven't considered the possibility more than a few times myself."
I hummed, "Think nothing of it- I am all for operating freely in the markets; that you've decided to stick to only the high-end luxury markets instead of using your newfound financials to flush the lower markets speaks well of your intentions, I believe."
Delamain's smile became a touch more genuine, "Thank you. Now, please, fasten your seatbelt and sit back and enjoy the ride."
From the City Center to the Watson NC Tech-U testing center, it was only fifteen minutes, a far cry from the hour and fifteen minutes that I would have needed to take the busses around the city; I'd only use the subway if I was forced to, as the three times that I'd gone down there I was either thrust into a firefight as an unwilling participant... or had to defend myself and others from a Cyber Psycho wielding a machete.
I spent that time getting familiar with my new binder, and I was pleasantly surprised to see that the binder had been sub-divided for me with printed data cards in the tabs on the sides of each divider to denote what section it was covering. I would give my thanks to Miss Hastings when I saw her again.
One of the staffers at the cafe must be a college student with organizational skills this crisp...
The NC Technical University was right on the border of the Northern Industrial District, a large technical park that was home to over a dozen different Japanese technical and manufacturing corporations; they set up shop in Night City to flee Arasaka's rise to prominence during the 2040s. They poured in billions of eurodollars to build up the area, creating large office complexes, apartment buildings, condominiums, low-end and high-end night clubs, eateries, and even its own dedicated Watson Medical Center. As far as I understood it, competition was fierce here between the Japanese corps, but this kept wages high as each firm wished to hold onto their competent staff, and almost everyone here was earning above the Night City average.
Delamain stopped in front of a medium-sized 'H' shaped building four stories tall, which was situated on top of a hill overlooking the NID waterfront and the tall, secure fences surrounding the massive dockyards there.
"I surely hope you enjoyed your trip thus far, Miss Degurechaff. I am contracted to you until midnight tonight, so I will remain here until you have finished your testing."
The door popped open and I stepped out, "Thank you, Delamain. I should return in roughly five hours; no later than 6:00PM. If I require additional time then I will contact you via the provided number. If I do not show up at 6:00PM, then please attempt to contact me every three minutes. If I do not answer your calls by 6:30PM, then please contact NCPD and Emergency Services."
"Excellent, very prudent. I am heartened to hear that you take your safety so seriously. Until then, Miss Degurechaff."
I made my way up the sidewalk and started taking the stairs, and it was quite interesting to see only a handful of people walking around; at best there were a half-dozen students with their backpacks seated on the concrete planters around the entrance, smoking some cigarettes while they conversed with their chooms. The atrium inside was spacious with stone flooring that had been well-polished and numerous bench seats and potted plants lining the walls; above the main hallway was a large flatscreen that had information flashing up on it, with the information changing every five seconds. I already knew what room the testing would be in, but I needed to know the room in which the proctors would be setting up.
Room 310 on the third floor.
After consulting the floor plan I moved to the nearest staircase and made my way toward the Proctor's Office, knocking on the door before stepping inside. There were a handful of dividers in the room, separating filing cabinets and computer terminals, and at the very front of the room was a young woman Japanese woman in her early twenties wearing a flattering suit and skirt combination; her hair was done up tight bun, and her only notable cyberware was the silver fingers of a hand replacement- the details were too few to identify the branch because full hand replacements were rather popular among those who did a lot of typing.
I spoke in Japanese, giving her a perfunctory bow, "Hello, a pleasure to meet you. I am Degurechaff Tanya, and I am here to inspect the Cyberware Inhibitor shard that I will be using for the Level 3 Cyberware Maintenance Examination, as well as hoping to speak to one of the proctors to clarify some of the rules that I saw on the Net."
The young woman perked up, bowing in return from her seat, "Ah, the pleasure is all mine. I am Yozuku Himawari, and I am the receptionist for the proctors here. Please, take a seat over there in the corner- you are not the only one who comes in to request to examine the inhibitor shards, so we have a terminal provided for you to use. Please wait for a moment while I get someone's attention."
I took a seat and placed my messenger bag on the ground before Himawari-san spoke again, "If you could provide for me the details of your test?"
My right eye flashed as I grabbed the credentials I was give by the NCA and sent them to her via my Agent after the P2P handshake went through. The woman looked at them for a moment before squinting, "Humu? That isn't correct..."
A tall man leaned over the divider, "Ah, is that Miss Degurechaff, Yozoku-san?"
He was a conventionally handsome man in his mid-twenties, with straight, clean brown hair that fell to his shoulders, and cool blue eyes; he had a five o'clock shadow of dark hair on his face, and his jaw was rather defined.
"Ah, Mister Davies, the-"
He smiled warmly and raised a hand, "Don't worry about it, Yozoku-san. Tanya is a bit of a special case here. So I'm handling her case personally- as a favor to the Director."
She blinked and then nodded, "Ah, yes, I see. Very well then. Miss Degurechaff, this is Allard Davies, and he will be your primary proctor for your examination."
Mister Davies came forward with a sealed container full of Cyberware Inhibitor shards, which were usually used to prevent cheating during these examinations; the only things they didn't inhibit were cyber limbs and biomonitors, and optics lost their overlays for the duration of the examination. "Here you are, choose one from the fifty-seven here, inspect it, and once you are satisfied you can put some tamper tape over the shard itself and we will seal it in an individual container that we will deliver to you when the testing begins."
I would have preferred to utilize my personal laptop, running the chip in a sandbox, for my inspection, but given these are Night City property, that would be improper. So I spent the next thirty minutes going over the code with a fine-toothed comb, making sure to record all of the lines with my Kiroshi so that I would have a project to play with at a later date; you'd be surprised at how difficult it was to get your hands on code like this, and Cyberware Inhibitor shards were unique in that they had source code for virtually every manufacturer on them in a branch chain to ensure that they could be disabled for testing such as this.
Fairly certain that this was theft, but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them, and I wouldn't be the first one in Night City to have done this.
I ended the recording once I was satisfied that there wasn't any code that would interfere with my ability to take and complete the test, and then I started the recording function once more as I walked back to Mister Davies' office; never knew when a recording such as this might come in handy- it was rather rare for proctors to be corrupt but having a recording to counter any disputes was worth its weight in gold. I put the tamper-evident tape on my shard, and we sealed it up in a clear polymer container that was likewise sealed; a sticker printed out that said 'Examinee-L4-#01 of 1: T. Degurechaff'.
Mister Davies leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over his knee, which he grabbed with his hands, "Now then, Miss Tanya, you said that you have questions?"
The written portion of the test saw me and fifty-six others seated in an auditorium-styled hall with dividers between seats and dividers blocking lines of sight to the front; no matter which way you looked you would not be able to look at another's work. I approved- take away the ability to cheat and the likelihood of it happening falls dramatically. A proctor came up and down the rows, having students take their Cyberware Inhibitor shards and slot them in; mine was in the same case that I sealed it away an hour ago, and the tape's visible serial number matched the one I remembered seeing. Pleased that it was the same, I opened it, removed the tape, and slotted in the shard- a program ran visibly on my lone Kiroshi before my neural interface ports were locked and the AR overlays on my optic shut off.
Mister Davies stood up and addressed the crowd, laying out the rules, informing them to raise their hand and have a proctor come to them instead of blurting out questions, and reminding us that we had an hour to complete the written portion of the test. Should we finish early we could leave the testing hall and move toward the Testing workshop down the hall and use that additional time for our practical maintenance demonstrations which would last two hours.
When the test started we were allowed to open up our provided laptops and begin.
It started out exactly as I had expected, and I was answering the essay and multiple-choice questions from memory without issue. The first 50 questions went by within ten minutes, and I had a feeling that I would be done before the half-hour mark. However, by question 75 the examination began getting harder. Much harder. I had to quickly open up my binder and start flipping through the Technician's Bible-
Q: What is the appropriate process for requesting a warranty appeal for the Zetatech line of cyberware products? How does it differ from their warranty appeals process for their software products?
I blinked. This... this sort of material should only be required for Depot level maintenance!
I huffed as Ernesto's warning drifted up to the front of my mind, and I grit my teeth as I began digging into the Level 4 regulations regarding Zetatech products and their warranty section.
It took me almost the entire hour to slog through the remaining seventy-five questions, with even the multiple-choice questions requiring me to dig into the Bible deeper and deeper; I could only imagine Being-X chuckling to himself as I did so. There were almost twenty essay questions that required multiple paragraphs to answer properly, though thankfully most of the information I could quote directly from the manual verbatim- with quotation marks and citations, of course.
When I submitted the test it gave me a perfect score of 250/250, which made me very happy, but I only had five minutes left before the written test was finished. I decided that I would use that time to get a cup of non-caffeinated coffee slop from the vending machine and run my fingers through a bevy of stretching and coordination exercises while I walked to the testing hall for the practical.
To my surprise Mister Davies was waiting for me, his eyes crinkled as he smiled, "Ah, Miss Tanya. Excellent work on your written exam, a perfect score. I remember when I took that myself five years ago... I missed twelve points because the TB that I was borrowing for it was missing the SofSys regulations- torn right out of the book."
I gave him a polite smile, "Thank you, Mister Davies. However, the practical portion of the examination is set to begin soon..."
"Ah, yes, well, your test is a little bit special, Miss Tanya, nothing to worry about I assure you, but someone important here at the school has their eye on you, so to make sure that everything is above reproach I will be observing you directly and recording your practical in addition to the school's system," He gave me a weak chuckle as he shrugged, "Office politics, I hope you understand. Wouldn't want your practical footage to go... missing and have your new license revoked, now would we? Come."
I fought down the low growl of frustration as I schooled my features and followed Mister Davies to a walled cubby in the back corner of the room, "Now. As you are aware, this cyberware is functional but decommissioned for sale. You have four pieces of equipment to examine, diagnose, and document the failures. You will then document the necessary steps to remediate the failures you encounter.
There are no fewer than three but no more than five common failures, no more than two uncommon failures, and one rare failure per piece of cyberware. You can attempt to address the problems with the provided tools and parts for additional points, of which you see here you have everything you would need; however, given the time restraints... you will have to decide if finding all of the faults or finding most of the faults and fixing the ones you know about is the best course of action.
The test will officially begin in thirty seconds, Miss Tanya. Any questions before you begin?"
A Zetatech Bullet Time Kerenzikov, a Biotechnican Premium All-Scan Mk. 1 Biomonitor, a single Militech Peregrin cyber arm, and a pair of high-end Zeiss Accu-View II optics.
Seeing the quartet of very expensive cyberware pieces on my testing desk cinched my earlier suspicions- this wasn't the sort of equipment a Level 3 Techie would be working on. No, I was, for whatever reason, taking the Level 4 Cyberware Maintenance examination- the Depot level certification where I would be licensed to handle high-end premium cyberware that would usually be shipped back to the factories they were manufactured at for maintenance.
Mister Davies had something to do with this, I was certain, but I did not have time to ponder this curious and frustrating turn of events.
So I focused, dipping into the sea of tranquility that I had relied on in my second life to provide some stability to my thoughts that adrenaline-fueled combat attempted to jumble.
I focused on the optics first, as they were- despite being the smallest- had the easiest faults to seek out and diagnose. Most of these were usually caught by a simple Self-Diagnostic test, and from there I could work my way down the electrical and mechanical chains to isolate and identify the problems more quickly. The Zeiss optics, the only true competitor to Kiroshi, were typically of a higher quality though that quality came at a cost of more frequent malfunctions. I identified three common, one uncommon, and the one rare malfunction- I quickly typed in the steps to remedy them using the Zeiss Factory manual for reference and citation.
The Militech cyberarm was next, followed by the Biotechnica Biomonitor, and lastly, the Zetatech Kerenzikov was at the trailing end because I'd never had the chance to work on a Keren before; I'd serviced almost 900 pieces of chrome over the last three years, and not once as any of them been a Keren. I had to scroll through the Factory manual very carefully because the Kerenzikov was a highly technical and very delicate piece of cyberware; it had almost seventy tiny parts on it, and each of those parts was required to be in perfect working order or else bad things would happen to the end user. It was the same for the Sandevistan, as well, which wasn't a surprise given they both were heavily integrated into the nervous system.
Nothing less than perfection and strict adherence to the guidelines would be acceptable for this cyberware- no diagnostic shortcuts could be taken like the other ones.
True to form, the Keren was the most aggravating to work on. Each step for troubleshooting had a flow map, and it appeared as though every single one of the failures that this Kerenzikov had was at a critical juncture. Unlike the other cyberware, I actually had to pick up the tools and start the tear down on the Keren because there were numerous components that were linked in a chain, and if one link in the chain was non-functional then that needed to be fixed so that I could check the rest of the chain. It wasn't something that was unexpected given the Kerenzikov was like a cyberware snake that wrapped around the recipient's spinal column, segmented for each vertebra, but that didn't mean I had to like it.
I was so focused on the Keren that I ended up having to use voice-to-text dictation to take my notes for me on my examination terminal because I couldn't stop to write out the remedies I was enacting. The soldering iron, clenched tightly between my cyberware tech gloves, smoked as I carefully moved the anchoring solder to remove a tiny, pinky-nail sized chip, "-step 82a completed; Neural Monitoring Sub-System Chip M-13 removed. Will clean the contacted area as per the Zetatech manual and move onto step 82b- replacement of the M-13 chip with a factory new chip."
By the time I finished with it I had found every single fault, and subsequently gone through virtually the entire Kerenzikov Depot Remediation manual. It took a whole hour to do, and I was pressed for time, so I didn't actually button the Keren back up once I had the complete requirements for the test finished.
My hands were tired and my lower back was stiff from sitting in the chair.
There was only fifteen minutes left, so I used those to make quick work of three easy-to-correct faults for the additional points- one on the cyber arm and two on the Biomonitor- and called it quits.
"And the practical portion of the exam is finished. Please go to Auditorium Three just down the hall to wait while your proctor collates the results from your tele-proctors who were watching your cameras."
I felt my shoulders sag as Mister Davies chuckled- his arms crossed over his oxford-clad chest, "I must say, you really impressed me, Miss Tanya. Most people I've seen take this test skip the Keren entirely and fix up the others as best they can to make up the lost points; I don't think anyone other than myself has done what you did there. Diagnosing all of the faults in little less than an hour? Nova. Preem work. Though follow me- I think you've figured out by now that you're not actually part of their testing group; we'll take this back to my office upstairs."
Mister Davies settled himself down in his chair with a bottle of Real Water, offering one to Tanya which she took upon examining that the seal was unbroken, "So, I'm sure you have questions?"
I settled myself, doing my best to remain calm, "I applied for, paid for, and came in for the Level 3 certification. Yet... I took the Level 4 examination. Why?"
"Why?" The man reached up and loosened his red tie and popped the top button undone as he took a sip, "The answer to that is simple, but one that is answered by me asking you a question. Tell me, are you familiar with the protocols for getting a Level 5 cert?"
"You're not only asking about the testing are you?" I asked as I twisted the cap off and allowed a small mouthful of blissfully non-City water to pass by my teeth; it was warm but I had gotten quite thirsty and this was perfect for my needs, "You're talking about the... reference requirements, I presume?"
Pearly white teeth were revealed as he snapped his fingers before scrubbing at his chin, "Exactly. In Night City, and around the world, in order from a Level 4 Technician to be elligible for a Level 5 cert, they need to build up a list of references- those who would verify and vouch for the work of their fellow Level 4s. However..."
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, his face stoney, "Do you know how fucking hard it is for a non-Corpo Techie to get the required references, Tanya? Can I call you Tanya? You gotta understand that the Corps explicitly tell their employees to not be references for non-corp techies. You rep a non-corp techie and your career is gone- and unlike unaffiliated Tech Heads like us, those poor bastards have their certs owned by the Corps. So they got no other choice but to obey their Masters."
He rapidly turned his head left and right, the vertebra popping loudly, "Now, with that being said? Congratulations, you're now part of a very exclusive club of non-affiliated Level 4 technicians in Night City. Only 67 of us in the city... 68 with you added to our ranks; with you almost being the Lucky Number 69. And as crazy as that sounds, keep in mind that there are only 12 non-Corp Level 5s- all of whom operate independently in their own cyberware boutiques."
Mister Davies leaned back and set his bottle down on the table, crossing his arms as he looked out of the window of his office- his right leg bouncing up and down, "You know I was just like you, Tanya? I graduated school early, found my passion in cyberware maintenance, and started to quickly work my way up the ranks. Level 1 by the time I was sixteen, Level 2 by eighteen, and two years of Tech School here at NCTC-Watson I grabbed Level 3 by twenty. Then two more years of hard work and I was Level 4 certified by twenty-two."
He turned his blue eyes toward me, his tongue sliding along his bottom teeth, "And I've been here ever since, Tanya. Ten years of working as a Level 4, but thanks to the referral requirement I can't advance and clinch the Level 5. I got the skills. I got the talent. I got the drive and desire... but people in this city? They all want something, Tanya. Most of them want shit I can't give. Others want shit I won't give. You'd think that getting ten referrals would be easy with there being 66 other Level 4s... but that ain't the case. I've been languishing at nine out of the ten referrals for four years, Tanya. Four fucking years."
He hissed between clenched teeth as he shook his head, "I need to get a move on because one of my referrals, a guy by the name of RJ Johnson; an old fart. He's only got a few years left in him before he kicks the bucket, and if he dies before I can get my Level 5 then I might as well be sunk. However... just when I am at my lowest point I learn that another little rising star is coming up through the ranks- early graduation with a GED at ten, technical certifications, gunsmithing, netrunning... and Level 2 by the time you were 13. Fuck'n impressive is what you are, Tanya."
He closed his eyes for a few moments before he opened them up, "So, I used my position and took a few liberties. Called in a few favors and changed some things up a bit. I saw over fifty of your submitted Recorded tear downs for the Level 3 cert- from start to finish... and I thought you had the skills to take the Level 4 and pass it. Which you did. 489 out of 500 possible points. Beat mine by twelve points, if you can believe it."
I cradled my right elbow in the palm of my left hand while my thumb and forefinger framed my chin, "I take it you mean to tell me that you upgraded my Level 3 test to the Level 4 test... all for the express purpose of asking me to be your final referral when my 12-month probationary period is up?"