The Brink and Back - Chapter Fifty Three

Once I had unlocked the branches surrounding the creation of generation three synths, I got to work building all of the necessary machines. Even if I never assembled an actual synth, having each of the machines that produced the parts would most likely be invaluable, and not just for the ability to basically print out replacement parts that weren't cyberware. The machinery required was basically bespoke organ manufacturing, meaning that with a simple DNA sample, not only could I print biologically matching parts, but I could print biologically matching improved parts, parts that were identical as far as the body was concerned but considerably strong, faster, more efficient, the whole gambit. Just because the Institute primarily created synths that were as near human as possible, didn't mean they didn't know how to make them better than humans. The coursers were proof of that.

I imagine there was a whole swath of this world's population that would jump at the chance to maintain their human body while also getting the benefits of cyberware, without the obscene cost and often inferiority of normal bioware. 

As I worked on the first and second organ creation devices, I quickly realized that they shared the same basic principles. A clean, stable DNA sample was inserted and then very carefully broken down with a combination of chemical manipulation and microscopic levels of mechanical adjustment. This was a time-consuming process simply because it failed ninety-seven times out of a hundred. Once the person's DNA was isolated, the necessary sections were cut, and the machine began artificially applying proteins to the DNA strand. In some ways, this was very much artificial mitosis, creating cells from isolated samples of DNA in a controlled environment. This was done on a macro scale, thousands of times at once, and since most of the control and alignment functions came naturally to the majority of cells, the device frequently only needed to provide the barest of guidance, usually in the form of a simple cellulose matrix only microns thick. 

On top of that, this whole process was done in an artificial oxygen carrier liquid. It was far from as efficient as real blood, or the synthetic blood that we had available here, but it allowed the growing machine to stimulate cell division, increasing the rate of development even further. Synthetic lower intestine could be produced at an inch every half hour, while marrow could develop a hundred grams in just forty-five minutes. With larger, multi-thread versions of these machines, you could produce a synth in only a few hours, less once you streamline the process. 

I spent the rest of the day and into the following morning working on these machines, including the machine that created the cellulose matrix on which several of the organs were printed. By the time I was done, I had complete knowledge of the entire generation three synth creation process, as each one of the machines improved my understanding of that specific area. Not only that, but my understanding of biology skyrocketed. These machines were extremely advanced SCIENCE!, using complex aspects of biology to function. Not only that, but the entire sphere of synth creation and development was extremely advanced, which meant my knowledge was now extremely advanced. 

It was absolutely worth the lost sleep. 

I did, eventually, call it a night, or more correctly, an early morning, heading back to my trailer and crashing almost immediately. The next morning, with the help of a large coffee and a light but nutritious breakfast, I was back in the bio-lab, ready to get to work. The plan was to multitask as much as possible. Working on the synth part machines the previous day, I had filled out a lot of branches around that area. Any machine I had skipped was safely stored in my head, so I could one hundred percent build a standard synth from memory, as well as what was considered the basic combat synth, which was basically just a peak human. It was not Captain America's peak, or even Batman's peak, but a realistic human peak.

Now that I had that extensive core of knowledge, I wanted to push it further and explore some of the biological improvements that made up some of the more advanced synth projects, including coursers, but also beyond. While the game might have presented the idea that there were only two real synths, standard and courser, there was, in fact, a wide variety. Everything from companion synths to rad-resistant synths, and I wanted to know the secrets of what made them tick. Each unique piece was essentially bioware, ready after a few simple modifications to be implanted in a person.

I had never hidden the fact that I disliked the idea of cutting off part of myself and replacing them with metal, no matter what the advantage was. It was why I had only gotten four modifications so far, and all of them had been bioware. But the idea of printing out parts that were made with my DNA, but drastically superior? That was a lot more appealing. I still wasn't about to hack off my limbs, but… replacing my eyes with what was basically still my eyes, just vastly superior? That was something I could stomach. 

Basically, for the next two days, I planned on working on my chemistry, and the Institute cyber and bioware. My goal, more of a hope, really, was that at some point, I would hit total saturation for one, which would hopefully mean I could drop it and partially move on. If I was really lucky, that would happen with both and I could really move on. The reason for focusing so much on chemistry, specifically drugs, medical treatments, and more, was to form a solid foundation that would make whatever came next significantly easier. On top of that, I wanted any hidden gems of SCIENCE! I could find. 

The reason for working so hard on institute bio and cyberware was twofold. Not only had the Institute almost wholly eclipsed what was available here when it came to bioware, save just a few specific developments, but their cyberware focused on working with the body, rather than replacing it. A much easier-to-stomach concept for me and many more.

They didn't cut off your arm, they added artificial fibers to it and reinforced your skeleton. They didn't cut out your adrenal glands, they added a stimulator to make it produce more adrenaline and to do so on command. Pre-war cybernetics were more in line with what you saw in Cyberpunk, but the Institute had perfected it into a much more gentle practice that I was almost certain would lighten the psychological load, possibly eradicating cyperpsychosis.

There was another layer underneath all of that, of course. While I did want the body modifications, the foundational chemistry knowledge, and the little tidbits of SCIENCE!, I was also pushing the boundaries of what was visible on the medical, chemical and biological branches, hunting for specific things. The first was Curie's panacea, the supposed miracle cure for every disease known to humanity. I was hoping to uncover it as I worked on medical treatments and chemistry because I was desperate to know if it worked or not. Part of me was nervous that it was connected to FEV, but I was holding out hope I could make it work without it. 

From the bio and cyberware, I was hoping to get a perfect brain-to-computer interface. I already had some crude ones, developed for specific functions by the Institute, but all of them were at similar levels to what Cyberpunk world already had access to, if not just a bit better. I knew for a fact they had better ones since they had seamless control over their synth's brains and bodies.

The last thing I was really hoping to find between my remaining two days working with Frank was the ability to modify and combine DNA. Between Deathclaws, Gatorclaws, Cazadors, Nightstalkers, and various other genetically engineered creatures and plants, the Fallout universe clearly had the tech and knew how to get it done, and I wanted that. It was obviously a double-edged sword, with the track record leaning heavily towards creating violent, crazed people-eating monsters, but without the complete idiocy of the Big Mountain at play, I was sure it could be used for good. 

Just as with Curie's cure-all, I was worried that FEV was involved, in which case I would be forced to wait for the next tree with a robust biological presence. I still utterly refused to produce the FEV virus, in any form. I would not fall into the same trap as Fallout scientists did, thinking that "for the greater good" was a valid reason.

Together, Frank and I worked for the majority of the day, producing more drugs and focusing on viral treatments since I was hoping that would lead us closer to the panacea. We also worked on piles of cyberware and a bit of bioware, focusing slightly on the brain and nervous system.

By now, Frank and I had hit our stride, and by the ten-hour mark, we had done a significant amount of work. I now had an incredible understanding of cybernetics and bioware. Already, I had several ideas for bioware implants that I wanted to work on, but I forced myself to stay focused. There was time for experimenting when I wasn't trying to fill out the tech tree. 

Unfortunately, I still couldn't see the perfect brain-to-computer connection I was looking for. I had, through creating and saturation, unlocked and solidified nearly all of the synth upgrades, biological enhancements, and cyberware the Institute branches provided. This also included all of the Pre-war cyberware. Some of it was interesting, but in reality, the Institute had firmly advanced past what the world was capable of pre-war, at least in these subjects. And yet, despite how much I had worked on, I still couldn't find the brain-to-computer interface I was looking for. 

"I've got a choice," I explained to Frank as I sat in my chair, slowly spinning around, staring up at the ceiling. "I move on and attack it from a different angle, maybe via the simulator chairs or even the tech from the memory den. Or I can stick with it and hope that one of the few remaining bits of cybernetics unlocks it."

"Is there a reason you can't do both?" Frank asked. "Either of the pods might be too big to work on here, but you could finish out the cybernetics and then save the pods for after. If the cyberware doesn't work, you can always make the pods on your last few days."

"My list of things I want to work on with the last three days is already growing," I said with a frown. "But I've already seen some hints of the simulation pods, so I could probably get to them done fast. Alright, let's go with that."

"If you already almost had access to the pods, why not try that first? Before all of this?"

"Well, for one thing, I wanted all of what I am learning here," I explained. "My knowledge of cyberware isn't too far from what is the norm here, and I'm pretty sure my knowledge of bioware is far, far beyond anything Arasaka or Biotechnica have in their earliest R&D, bar things like nanotech. Plus, I'm not sure the pod will lead to the right kind of interface. I'm looking for a gentle, simple implant, not a table and a brain spike like the Matrix."

Frank nodded in understanding and continued to clean up from our latest experiment while I continued my break. When I was done, I gathered the resulting powder from our latest antibiotic and started filling a single pill sample reservoir in our pill press. When the pill was complete, a short blast of knowledge entered my brain. At this point, I was beginning to scrape the bottom of the barrel, so the background information I received for each completed project was steadily shrinking. I did, however, quickly realize that completing this particular drug was worth it for other reasons. 

I had uncovered Curie's panacea. And boy, was it a doozie of a project. 

The first thing I did was celebrate the fact that the creation process did not include the Forced Evolutionary Virus. Then, I nearly cried when I saw what the creation process was like. It was an incredibly complicated procedure, spanning hundreds of steps. There was no doubt in my mind that with just how complicated the drug was, Curie must have hand-tuned it over the two hundred years she had spent on her own. She was a robot, after all, so creativity was not her strong suit, which meant brute force must have been her bread and butter. 

Once I warned Frank that creating the drug would be one hell of a process, I started listing out the various reagents and reactants, a long list that had several repeats at various concentrations. I also quickly realized that we didn't have enough of a few specific pieces of glassware, so I quickly got the molly makers to print out the extras. 

It took us an hour and a half to set everything up, at which point we hesitantly started the process. It went well for the first thirty minutes, before failing as I lost a few percentage points of concentration in one of the condensers due to a bad seal. Ordinarily, that was an easy fix, you could just heat it up and lower the concentration by boiling away the water. You could even just leave it out to evaporate over time if you were working on something temperature-sensitive. Unfortunately, this specific process was so sensitive and complex that both the boiling and evaporation processes would have ruined the end result. So, sadly, we started all over. 

Three restarts later, and we finally had a sample of the miracle liquid, the ultimate cure. I stored the precious miracle liquid in a modified stimpak syringe, just like the recipe called for, before I finally got a wave of understanding, and boy, was it a trip. 

While I had assumed that Curie had brute-forced the ultimate cure, I had failed to realize just how deep that went. For all two hundred years, Curie had painstakingly sculpted the antiviral to beat all antivirals. Not only was it specifically modified to be an extremely powerful treatment, but it was also painstakingly designed to avoid harming the natural gut biome inside us, or harm our natural cells. It was one part science, one part art, made from a combination of dedication and time. It was not a trick cure, a chemical or biological treatment that happened to achieve incredible results. It was a step-by-step customized cure, done by brute force over two hundred years.

Making it by hand would have been incredibly difficult anywhere in the wasteland besides the Institute, which explains why Curie didn't just make more of it. By the time they had found her, her lab had already fallen into disrepair, and the cure-all was way too complicated for the simple lab equipment stations you found around the Commonwealth wasteland. 

Within fifteen minutes of finishing it, Frank had fed it into the Auto-Pharma, before having it create a dozen doses that we put inside more modified stimpak injectors. 

As I learned when we finished the original dose, this concoction was not actually a cure-all. It could crush anything bacterial or viral, ranging from the common cold to HIV, but it couldn't touch anything genetic, cancer, poisons, venom, prions, mold or fungus, contaminations, or anything similar. It was also debatable how long it would be able to cure what it was designed to. Viruses had an annoying habit of mutating resistant strains when presented with antibacterial or antiviral cures. If I started handing out this panacea, who knew what kind of crazy superbug might develop.

Still, the utterly groundbreaking medicine was something I was glad to have, if nothing else then as an emergency cure in case of something unexpected. This world had already deviated from the normal canon, maybe there was a zombie apocalypse around the corner. 

"Right, well, on that nightmare-inducing thought, I am going to call it a night," I said with a groan, stretching and cracking my back after mentioning the harrowing thought to Frank. "Tomorrow we can focus on unlocking the machine brain interface, since I've pretty much mastered Fallout medicine." 

"And the gene manipulation?" 

"After we exhaust the cyberware, we can move on to that, though I honestly don't know where to go with it," I admitted, sagging a bit. "I'm pointedly ignoring three different variations of FEV, so there is a strong chance it is hidden somewhere behind one of those. Still, we can spend as much time as possible trying to uncover it somewhere else. Honestly, the cloning tech might be the key if FEV isn't, so we can start there. Tomorrow is the last day, so I'm prioritizing the interface over genetics." 

"Very well," Frank said with a nod. "Good night Jackson." 

"Thanks, buddy, enjoy yours," I said, making my way down the stairs. I grabbed a small cup of cherry chunks from the fridge before heading out into the town and making my way to my trailer. 

I was only about halfway there when my radio went off. 

"Sir, we have an approaching vehicle," Murtaugh said. "They are coming from the main road. There's only one and matches scans of a vehicle that Dakota Smith has used before. It's moving at a casual pace, so we have… five minutes." 

"Smith? Huh… okay, turn on some lights, spool up security but keep the main guns off of it," I said. "Wake up Kaytlyn and find Riggs, and Jackie if he stayed here, I can't remember if he did. I'll be in my trailer putting on my undersuit and rinsing off. I've been sealed up in Tyvek suits all day." 

"Find Riggs?" Murtaugh asked, sounding confused. "Do you really…? Never mind, on it, sir." 

I continued out to my trailer, now at a jog, Duke following after me. I quickly rinsed off in the shower before getting partially dressed and pulling on my armored undersuit, letting the artificial muscles squeeze and compress around me before settling into the usual skin tightness. I then threw on some pants and a shirt before leaving the trailer and making my way to the front entrance, where Murtaugh was waiting with a pair of shades. Dakota was sitting on the hood of her car, with what appeared to be a bodyguard on one side and a familiar woman on the other.

It appeared Panam had entered the field. 

"Dakota, it's good to see you," I said, patting Murtaugh's shoulder as I stepped past him, my hand out. "What brings you out to our humble home?" 

"I have a few things I wanted to talk to you about," she explained. "I was going to reach out and set up a meeting… but I learned some troubling news that needed to be shared ASAP." 

"Huh… not looking forward to that," I said with a frown, before nodding to the building behind me. "Come on in then, no reason to talk out here in the dark." 

She nodded, and I led them into the building. As we approached the front door, I spotted Riggs, who was fully armored, followed by Kaytlyn. Riggs jogged to catch up while Kayt appeared to be heading for her tower.

I would have to apologize for waking her up later.

We stepped into our eating and meeting space, only to find Frank was already setting out a pitcher of cold water and glasses for everyone, as well as a small plate of what appeared to be cheese and crackers. I almost laughed at the absurdity, but I managed to keep a straight face. Frank bowed as we approached, before quickly heading back to his small doctor's office. 

"Your robotic creations are incredible," Dakota complimented, watching Frank walk away smoothly. "He didn't look like a dedicated butler-bot either."

"No, technically he is more of a lab assistant," I explained with a shrug, waving for them to sit as I took my own seat. "Now, what is going on that would require such a late meeting, Dakota?" 

"First, let me introduce you to Panam Palmer. She is second in command of the currently local Aldecaldos branch," The older woman explained. "She is a bit young, but she has a good head on her shoulders, and I expect you two to be working together a lot." 

"Saul agreed to move in?" I asked, sounding surprised. "That is unexpected. I haven't heard back from him at all." 

"Saul had no intention of accepting your deal. But Saul is no longer leading this branch of the Aldecaldos," Dakota explained. "We have removed him from leadership after several questionable decisions made it clear he was putting his personal gain before the good of the family." 

"That… Damn, okay. Well, I'm glad cooler heads prevailed," I responded, leaning back in my seat. "Sorry, but I can't say that I expected that. He must have really fucked up." 

"Indeed, his actions were inexcusable, and he is far from here, never to hold leadership again," She explained. "The details of the move can be discussed later, for now, there is a more important subject. The Wraiths."

"What about them?" I asked with a frown.

"Well, originally, I simply wanted to offer you my gratitude," She admitted. "Your fear campaign was showing significant results. Unfortunately, it seems the Raffen Shiv are pushing back."

"Hold on," I rubbed my face before pulling out my radio and calling for Kaytlyn to join us, placing the radio on the table when I was done. "Kaytlyn has been spearheading that campaign lately, so she should be here for this."

Dakota nodded, opening her mouth to respond, only to freeze as Panam let out what could only be described as a moan of pure bliss. All of us turned to look at her, but other than a light dusting of red on her cheeks, she clearly didn't care. She was too busy enjoying the cheese Frank had put out. 

"Is… is that real cheese?" she asked, her eyes wide as she visibly restrained herself from reaching for more. "Did you serve us real cheese?"

"No, no, that's a relatively recent development in our synthetic food," I explained with a smile. "We are trying to replicate various food products as closely as possible. So far, we have had a few successes, including this cheese, liquid eggs that cook and work like real eggs, and chicken. All of them share almost identical flavor profiles and nutritional values. That cheese is so close to real cheese, I would suggest not eating it if you're lactose intolerant."

Dakota listened to my speech before reaching out and taking a slice of cheese for herself. As she at it, her reaction was much more muted than Panams, her eyes widening as she chewed before she immediately controlled her reactions. Panam was about to ask something, when Kaytlyn finally entered the Shack, quickly walking around the table and sitting beside me. 

"What's this about the bastard Wraiths?" She asked with a frown, opening her mouth to say more, before I put my hand on her shoulder, sending her a look that made her pause and take a breath.

"Dakota was just informing us that our work has been effective, but that something has come up," I explained, the blue-haired woman tensing at my words. 

"Very effective. The Wraiths have all but pulled back from the immediate area of Night City," She explained. "Unfortunately, the Raffen Shiv that back the Wraiths are pushing back. In a big way. A caravan of reinforcements is on its way."

Kaytlyn cursed, looking like she wanted to break something, only to stop herself from throwing a glass across the room. 

"How many?" She asked after a moment. "How many in the caravan?"

"Last time they were seen, there were twenty-three vehicles," Dakota responded. "Most likely, the number of individuals is between forty and sixty, but could be as high as eighty. But that number is estimated to rise."

"How much is it going to rise?" I asked, sounding 

"Well, they have stopped out in the badlands, far into no man's land," Dakota explained. "They could just be waiting for the right moment, but my gut says they are expecting more people to join."

"That is a big caravan," Kaytlyn said with a smirk. "At least we know it was working. They are scared shitless of us. Why else would they send so many?"

"Well they need to leave a good chunk behind to re-establish their interests," Dakota explained, Panam nodding in agreement. "But yes, your plan was working."

"I think we could perhaps focus on more important things?" I suggested, giving Kaytlyn a look. "We should get the Aldecaldos inside the perimeter before they get here. Otherwise, they would be sitting ducks." 

"Woah, wait, that sounds like you plan on letting them get here," Kaytlyn said, shaking her head with an incredulous look on her face. "Why not take care of them before they arrive? We could go out and cut them off before they get even close." 

"I… okay, that's a good idea, but it's still a large number," I pointed out. "I'm confident in our defenses, and I am confident in my tech, but heading out with a team to squash that many Raffen at once? In a location that is, for all intents and purposes, a war camp? That's a tall order."

"What about the shades?" Kaytlyn suggested. "We could take them out and use them as soldiers. That would give us a numbers boost and let us focus on leaders and heavy weapons. If the nomads throw a little help in, we could put together a small army."

"Absolutely not. We have some shades set aside we could use, but not a single unit gets pulled from active service," I said, shaking my head. "I refuse to lower this place's defensive abilities even a tiny amount. Playing with the numbers like that will only come back to bite us in the ass." 

"Well then, you're just going to have to get creative then, Genio," Kaytlyn responded, looking at me and shaking her head. "I know what that mind is capable of, Jay, put it to use. Don't let these assholed get even close to Night City." 

I closed my eyes and let out a long breath, rubbing my eyes and eventually nodding.

"Fine, fine. We have some time, I'll spend some of it coming up with ideas," I said, nodding in reluctant agreement. "If they left right now, how long would it take to get here?"

"Pushing it, just under two days," Dakota responded. "But that would leave them ragged and unprepared to fight. It will likely be closer to three."

"Okay, so two days is our minimum. That gives us a good bit of leeway to plan and prepare," I said with a nod. "Even if we wait for them to move, we could still meet them out in no man's land with distance to spare. I assume you have eyes on the camp?" 

"Several. I will keep you in the loop," The older woman agreed with a nod. "And if they begin to move before we are ready, are the Aldecaldos welcome to move in?" 

"Of course," I responded, nodding confidently. "I need a day or so to get everything checked and worked out, but unless they start moving before then, we are ready."