The Brink and Back - Chapter Fifty Four

The impromptu meeting with Dakota continued for another hour, during which we discussed just how many Aldecaldos would be moving in, what sort of accommodation they would need, how many vehicles to expect, and so on. The numbers were higher than I expected, especially compared to what you saw in the game, but well within our capabilities. As the meeting was winding down, I radioed Murtaugh to send a bot to get Noah so I could talk to him about what needed to be done. I knew he had a few MRVNs working on the area, even after clearing most of them out when the primary prep was finished, but I had no idea what they had been up to. 

I shook hands with Dakota and Panam, waving them off as they pulled out of the town before heading to the garage, where Noah was waiting. He started a tour of what they had gotten done, which was way more than I anticipated. 

The entire area had been cleaned, and all the trash, scrap, and run-down buildings had been sent to our junkyard for processing. All of the trailers worth anything had been taken to one side, where twelve of them were set up in pairs, each pair having a small yard between them. Most of the remaining trailers had been junked, but a few that had been worth some effort had been turned into sheds, most of which had been lined up in our area of the town. 

Four public bathrooms had been constructed from the ground up, each with its own major electrocondenser and water storage. I wasn't sure what they usually used for accommodations, but I was sure they would enjoy having indoor plumbing and warm showers. 

There was a whole parking area along one side, another section for the larger trucks to settle down in, as well as several large concrete pads for some of the larger tents, so things like cooking could be done on more stable ground. The entire space had also been leveled with a slight pitch, with drainage ditches, raised locations, and gravel pits. This would keep water out of the tents should it rain, as well as reduce erosion, a real problem in a place with no plant life.

There were also four custom-made buildings, built in a style that was a mix of the pre-existing buildings and production additions. Noah claimed it was a middle ground, an attempt to make them not seem out of place. The buildings were empty and could be used by us as a place to sell things to any staying nomads or as room for the nomads to move into, it was up to me. They had been built when I was still planning on making the fake borg group, an idea I was doubly glad I had dropped now that I could make actual synthetic humans. 

The most impressive part was that they had replicated the defensive walls and gun emplacements around the entire area, especially since it was a significantly larger space. It was interspersed with Hesco barrier walls, all set up to give optimal cover and range of fire. It looked more like a military installation than a camp for roaming nomads, but I think they would actually appreciate that.

Part of me wanted to inspect the buildings and poke around, but it was already getting late, and I had a busy day tomorrow. Not only was I hoping to finally finish off the cyberware branches and discover the computer brain interface, but now I also needed to figure out a way to kill an entire caravan of psychopaths.

The obvious solution was the great American method, which was, of course, a combination of high explosives and drones. I could whip up a simple carrier drone, print out a couple hundred bombs each, and turn the problem into a crater. Hell, if I wanted to get crazy, I could make some bombs out of that weird gravity crystal from the Titanfall black hole grenades. I had spent time unlocking the process to make the crystals, I should get some use out of them.

Plus, it would no doubt fit into our mind game, boogeyman strategy.

On the other hand, this was a big opportunity. With so many of the bastards all clumped together, we could send a message to everyone who was watching, which I was willing to bet was quite a few people, that we were not to be fucked with and that there would be consequences for doing so. Anyone could destroy a caravan, it took a special kind of fuck around and find out to put on a show while doing it.

As I made my way to my trailer, I stopped by to talk to Sam. He was still orchestrating the production of the vault on this side, making sure everything they needed would be printed out and sent through. 

"How goes the construction?" I asked, stepping into the production addition and watching the MRVNs work on the many molly makers. "All set on materials?" 

"With your focus primarily on medical and chemical fields, we are holding steady," He assured me. "Unfortunately, depending on what you will be attempting upon your completion, that may change." 

"Alright, then put in a major order for materials through Chuck," I said, the AI nodding in agreement. "I don't think I will be making anything material intensive, but better safe than sorry." 

"Very well, Jackson. I heard we will soon be getting neighbors?"

"Yeah, probably in the next week, unless something goes wrong," I responded, chewing my cheek. "Listen, when you get the chance, wake up our spare shades and get them along the walls of the nomad area. Then, get the production going on making ten more to refill our spare stock. If that's a problem supply-wise, just double your material order. We have money, we may as well use it." 

"Sir, that is significantly fewer combat robots than what surrounds our portion of the town," Samwise pointed out. "Should we not make them equal, if not more, as that area is larger?" 

"No, it already looks too much like a prison as is. If we put too many robots around the perimeter, they will just look like wardens," I explained. "The nomads can fill in the extra space if they want to. They won't be able to tap into the turrets, but they can keep watch. Might even have to take the robots away if they make them uncomfortable."

"I do not understand that," the AI admitted, a question mark appearing on the screen on its chest. "Would not more security make people feel safer?" 

"It comes down to people not trusting things they can't control," I explained, understanding his confusion. "Especially in this world, double so for a place like Night City. Here, hell, in most worlds, people see an armed robot like that, and they ask who is controlling them and what they could do if they had less-than-ideal intentions. Honestly, in this world, I couldn't blame anyone for questioning them. I certainly wouldn't want them here if the nomads controlled them, so I can't exactly expect them to be happy about it."

"I see. I suppose I lack the fears that make such a measure concerning," Samwise admitted, tilting his head. "I will endeavor to contemplate the disparity."

"Don't worry about it too much," I said with a smile. "You're not human, so you can't expect to duplicate every aspect of our psychology. There are bound to be some significant differences and many things that don't make sense to you. As long as you try to empathize with things you don't understand, that's good enough for me."

"Thank you," He responded with a nod. "I believe it's past time that you get some rest, Jackson."

"Yeah, my body is telling me the same thing," I joked before turning to leave the garage. "Thank you for all your hard work, buddy, I'll see you tomorrow." 

After Samwise wished me a good night, I headed back to the trailer. I sat on the edge of my bed for a bit, absently scratching Duke's head as I had a glass of water with a squeeze of lemon from our synthetic food added for taste. 

"How am I supposed to kill an entire caravan of Raffen in a way that makes an impact?" I asked Duke hypothetically. "Explosives are out as a main choice, though they are a solid backup plan if I can't think of anything…"

I contemplated the idea for a while before finally laying back in bed, unable to stay awake any longer. When I crawled into bed, it did not take me long to fall asleep, dreaming of explosions in the desert, each looking like distant mushroom clouds. A bad idea all around, but my dreams clearly didn't care.

When I woke up the next morning, I could feel my poor decision to stay up later than was necessary, the general fatigue and malaise that followed a lack of sleep, plaguing me as I got ready for the day. Luckily, a quick cup of coffee, plus a second one to sip and enjoy, washed most of that away. I needed to make sure I got more sleep, or my plan to push myself the last two days of this tech tree would be a bust. Try as I might to demand it, Frank would not prescribe the necessary stimulants if I was already deep in sleep debt.

Once I was done with breakfast, Frank and I got to work, immediately starting in on creating more cybernetics from the Institute, still hunting for the perfected version of the computer-to-brain interface. I started off by making a more advanced version of the PHOENIX Monocyte Breeder, which was basically an implant that stimulated bone marrow to produce more Monocytes, a specific white blood cell that plays a part in pathogen cleansing and healing tissue damage. It was significantly slower healing than a stimpak and slightly faster than my own nano hive bioware, with the added bonus of working on certain pathogens as well, not to mention that the hive had limited use and would run out of nanites after a set amount of injuries, something that was a lot less likely to happen to my monocytes.

Plus, save for a slight increase in caloric intake, there were no other side effects or additions from the implant. My nano hive created swarms of tiny healing nanites, which contaminated my blood and required me to eat several types of supplements. While the Breeder was cyberware, the results were organic to my body, meaning no side effects and no contamination. I could already see myself getting this to work in tandem with my hive.

We continued to work on cybernetics until, finally, after completing an implant to interweave extra data gathering to the optic nerve, specifically for people with eye implants, the elusive bit of tech was unlocked. I immediately got to work on it, eager to get it done so I could finally move on. 

The advanced cyberware was a fine net with thousands of connective points, which overlaid small portions of the brain, with the brainstem and cerebellum having the most connections, partially wrapped in the flexible net. The connective points would, after a significant amount of calibrating, allow the user to interface with technology.

This was the basic version, and only allowed passive interfacing, which was when a fully conscious person influenced machines in specific preset ways. Basically, it was a way for me to pre-program my tech to react to specific actions I could take, the web of points picking up on my brain activity and translating that to inputs. I could create projections that follow my hands or a reticule that follows my line of sight.

The second type was a bit more… extreme. This version had a much larger net, with vastly increased points of connection. It was also almost completely wrapped around the brainstem and cerebellum. It also involved a few actual implants, but would allow for a more in-depth connection, as well as inputting sensory information, meaning touch, taste, smell, and sight.

With all of the extra parts and more extensive coverage, the results of the more advanced implant were significantly more nuanced, with the possibilities for use much more open. While the basic form was restricted to hand gestures and specific pre-programmed inputs, the more advanced version was capable of full immersion. This was not the ones and zeros net that netrunners frequented, but something much more advanced.

The problem was that both types of implants were extremely invasive to install, involving a long, complicated process, as it was extremely complex brain surgery. The advanced version was even worse, involving several nerve implants, including the optic nerve.

While I disliked the idea of such an invasive implant… I knew that I would be going for the second, more intense version. Or, at least, my own version of that second type, since there was no way I wasn't going to customize my own with Titanfall tech and materials.

Unfortunately, that was at least several days away, until I could spend at least five hours under the knife and had an opportunity to work on tech of my own design. 

"Frank, you better get a proper surgery suit built up," I warned my AI doctor. "The list of bioware and cyberware I'm going to be getting keeps growing now that I can control and make them myself." 

"I already have the designs set to convert this area into a full surgical suit as needed," He assured me with a simple nod, not turning from his work. "I will send the designs to Samwise to get produced and moved over to here." 

"Glad to hear," I responded. "It won't be until after this tree is gone, so take your time. 

With the brain-to-computer interface complete, I was beyond satisfied with my understanding of Fallout bioware, cyberware, and everything in between, not to mention chemistry and medicine. The only thing left was the gene splicing and editing, and honestly, I didn't have high hopes for figuring that out. I already knew so much about the subjects that surrounded it, even some of the subject itself. The fact that the higher level SCIENCE! version of the process hadn't appeared told me it was most likely locked behind FEV. Still, cloning tech could have some interesting applications, especially in food, so I was willing to crack into the subject in hopes I was wrong about my assumptions. 

Unfortunately, despite my forced optimism, as I worked my way through a few levels of cloning tech available to the Fallout universe, starting small and working my way up, none of what I discovered made any of the connections I was hoping for. Instead, as the day started to grow long, I was forced to admit defeat. With any luck, I would get access to gene splicing and manipulation later, but until then, I would have to make do with what I already knew from my work in bioware and synth creation.

I went to bed that night, happy to have completed two out of the three of my final goals. I had massively imptech in the form of grav-plates.

Despite the name, it was not anti-gravity technology. Instead, it was a form of particle thrust, which worked by firing low-energy particles at high-density materials, usually tungsten. This created waves of what the scientists of the Fallout universe called Alpha-Kinetic force, which pushed against the ground and air under the Eyebot. Again, as always, they had no idea how it worked, just that it did, and that was more than enough for them. 

The system did have its limitations, however. On a small scale, you could power the plates with reasonable methods, but the bigger the thing being levitated, the harder it was to keep off the ground, which was why midsized robots like Mr. Handy and its derivatives didn't use the same tech. The ratios were wrong. 

Once I cleared the robotic branches, I capped off power armor as well by creating half a dozen different upgrades, working on some advanced armor plating composites, as well as finally completing the most advanced power armor the tree had, the Hellfire model. It took a few hours to design and put together, and by the time it was done, I had the full download of all things power armor in my ever-growing library. 

When that was done, I did a once over to confirm I had completed the energy weapons portion of the weapons branches, and when I was sure I had covered everything, I started searching for things other interesting groupings I could finish off with one or two inventions. That was when I spotted something that must have been uncovered when I finished one of the other branches.

I had found the Sierra Madre vending machine. 

Or, rather, I found the branch that led to the Sierra Madre vending machine, which started with a large, phone booth-sized machine that drank power like an alcoholic drinks at an open bar. I immediately got started on copying down the design, quickly swallowing my shock at finding the branch in the first place. 

I had obviously been on the lookout for the branch leading to the vending machines, or any hint of it, but I had mostly assumed it didn't really exist. Or if it did, the game would have wildly overstated how it worked. After learning the G.E.C.K. was basically a joke compared to what it claimed to be, a large part of me assumed it was all a smoke and mirrors show, that the machine worked by collecting Sierra Madre chips, sending them away while whatever you ordered was being delivered via pneumatic tube or something equally ridiculous.

The fact that it seemed to definitely exist and, in at least some capacity, did what it advertised it could do was a shocking surprise, though a very welcome one.

The second half of the eleventh day was spent completing the large prototype machine and hooking it up to a ridiculous amount of power, using the spare fusion generator I had made to unlock the fusion tech in the first place, as well as diverting an entire second generator that was meant to go to the vault. Once they were hooked up, Samwise, who wanted to see the machine work for the first time, activated the systems, and I leaned against the workshop table to steady myself as a wave of knowledge washed over me. 

The machine wasn't overly complicated, though the principles it worked on were extremely advanced. Basically, the machine took a material, preferably something dense and higher up the periodic table of elements, and bathed it in a stabilizing energy field while also bombarding the material with a stream of exotic particles. The particle stream essentially broke apart the atoms of the material while the stabilizing field kept it all from turning into a hellish explosion. 

The material, now in a state that the Fallout universe called proto-matter, was then shifted into essentially any element you could want by fluctuating and directing the stabilizing energy field. This basic proof of concept version was only capable of turning the proto-matter into one element at a time, but I knew later versions could be much more precise, creating an entire object at once. 

We tried the machine a few more times, feeding it several piles of junk, a container of water, a length of gold wire, and even a XXL burrito. It took it all, turning them into iron, copper, aluminum, and even gold. This, of course, revealed the incredible technology's first rule, that while it was essentially transmuting matter, it was not creating something from nothing. The amount of matter made depended on how much matter was put in, specifically how many electrons, protons, and neutrons the matter contained. For example, the XXL burrito only produced the barest traces of gold dust, while the gold wire turned into a substantially larger portion of aluminum.

Even with those limitations, the technology was revolutionary. It was the kind of thing that hypothetical utopias were based on, like replicators from Star Trek. It also had the power to send the world into an economic spiral that resulted in the utter collapse of the current system. A stable, well-run government and citizenship would struggle to transition to a post-scarcity society, never mind the clusterfuck that this world was. 

Even just the manipulation of matter into valuable materials was simultaneously the key to phenomenal growth and a signature on our death sentence if it ever got out.

Still, I couldn't ignore the tech just because it was dangerous. I could, however, keep it safe. By only using it in the Vault, I could mitigate the risk of its existence getting out. Plus, the vault would also have a near-constant source of materials for the machines in the form of stone. A quick round of maths in my head told me that carving out rooms for our vault would provide more materials than it would take to reinforce the room with a vault interior. We could magnify the surplus if we built larger rooms. More open rooms meant a lower ratio of materials used to materials gained. 

On top of that, chances were that we eventually run into mineral deposits of some kind, which we could chase to improve our efficiency even more. Even if the stone only had a relatively small amount of denser metal, it would vastly improve the ratios involved with the conversion. 

I took a long, deep breath, taking a moment to settle my spiraling mind. This was big, really big, but I needed to calm down before my excitement and energy got too far. I needed to be calm and continue to follow the tech branch. 

I ordered Samwise to have some MRVNs disassemble the large proof of concept, while I got to work designing the next stage. This one was smaller, losing about a fourth of the height, but it was also their first attempt at shifting the proto-matter into different things at once. I ended up staying up into the early morning completing it, only for the result to be disappointing at best.

The original machine had produced its programmed materials in general, amorphous blobs, but even then, you could tell it was rough. The samples were covered in pitting and filled with voids, with grainy edges covering the sample. These issues were only more obvious in the second machine since it had produced multiple elements, and in an ingot rather than a blob. The fact that it was supposed to be a smooth, half-and-half ingot of iron and aluminum, and the result was a rough, pitted ingot, in which the seam between the two elements was almost wavy it was so imprecise.

Despite my rising exhaustion, I wanted to continue my work, the excitement and potential pulling me forward. Thankfully, Samwise convinced me to go to sleep before it got to be too late. I ended up getting a sleep aid from Frank since all I could think about was continuing to follow the vending machine branch. 

The next morning, I woke up a little late, quickly making my way to the shack. I was pouring myself a cup of coffee when Jackie returned from Night City.

"What's this Kaytlyn has been saying about a caravan?" Jackie asked, immediately getting behind his tiny kitchen space. "We got more Wraiths to kill?

I couldn't wait until we got this man a proper kitchen, and a large part of me wondered if he would appreciate or resent me making an AI sous chef to help him cook for everyone. I shook my head after a moment, realizing that Jackie was waiting for a response, and that my tired had drifted off by accident.

"It's a large caravan of Raffen Shiv reinforcements," I explained, sitting down at the table. "Anywhere from thirty to fifty of them, maybe even more. They are camped out deep in the badlands, but Dakota is almost positive they are headed here once they finish gathering people." 

"That's a lot of fuckers to gank, Genio," Jackie said with a frown. "You got a plan?" 

"I have a backup plan," I responded, sipping my coffee. "Unless I can think of a better idea, we can just bomb them with drones. But we have another problem." 

I winced as I recalled a thought that occurred to me as I was getting ready for bed the previous night. The badlands were a pretty big chunk of space around Night City, and Dakota had already revealed that they were at least a few days away, even if they left immediately. That meant going out to meet them was likely a two or three-day trip. 

I could not do that. I needed to ride out the rest of the Fallout tree, not go galavanting around the badlands. Sure, there were only a few things that I really wanted, but if I left right now, I would lose access to Fallout before we got back.

"I… My inspiration? I only have a few more days with it, and Dakota said they are two days out at least," I explained. "I can't go to intercept them. I don't have the time."

That brought Jackie's attention back to me completely, the large man looking up from the counter to focus on me. His look was hard to decipher, and it made me nervous.

"Who would be going?" 

"I… I don't know," I admitted with a shrug. "We can spare a few shades from our surplus… But I was thinking it was a good opportunity to put on a show, you know? Anyone could blow something up, but we want to be better than that, make them never want to come back, right?" 

Jackie caught on to my uncertainty immediately and let out a long breath. 

"Genio, you don't have to come out with us on every mission we do," He assured me, shaking his head. "It makes sense that you've got responsibilities. I mean, even if we were a normal merc group, sometimes schedules don't line up, you know?" 

I let out a small breath I hadn't realized I was holding, sagging a bit. 

"I know… but I promised to work with you, to help you with your dream. And this? This is personal, payback for crimes committed against us," I explained, feeling a bit better now that I knew Jackie understood the problem. "Is it really okay for me to just… sit it out?"

"You didn't sit out the first two," Jackie pointed out. "Plus, it sounds like you want to do something special for this. If you come up with something, then it will be like you're contributing."  

I stared at him for a moment before letting out a chuckle and nodding. 

"I suppose it would," I agreed. "Alright, I'll put something together. Then you guys can deliver it."

"Sounds like a plan, Genio," He agreed with a nod. "Now, you want cheese on your steak and eggs or not?"

"Of course I want cheese on it," I responded, shaking my head before taking another sip of my coffee.

I sat there and chatted with Jackie for a while until he sat down at the table with two large plates of food. Together, we dug into the mean, going quiet as we enjoyed it. Eventually, when I was done, I said goodbye and left the shack, eager to get back to work.