Chapter 15
Going through the teaching modules, Trace immediately saw two that he simply grabbed. One was for beginner programming, while the other was for pre-cybernetic technology. The next several modules in both series were also in the drawer, among many other subjects.
Whoever the owner of the apartment had been, his interests had certainly ranged wide. Either that, or he had needed pieces from all of these subjects for his plan on Sekmore.
Trace didn’t really care either way. All he knew was that he no longer needed to buy those particular modules. He was going to be laid up for the next few days, minimum, while his body healed, and he had just found the best method to pass the time.
Stick-Point finally messaged him back as he was scooting his way into the kitchen to fetch some more food.
‘Did you get away clean? Are you safe? How did you get injured?’
‘Yes, to both, and I took a leap of faith and landed wrong.’
‘?YOU DID WHAT? What floor was the target's apartment on again?’
‘Nine, I jumped down to the balcony of an apartment on the eighth floor.’
‘I’m rethinking whether you’re ready for these jobs…’
Trace slammed his hand down on the counter with a growl. ‘That’s not fair Stick-Point! It was my first gig like this. I made a mistake, but I got away clean. Next time I’ll do better, that’s how everyone is.’
He pulled open the refrigerator and grabbed another burrito for his already empty stomach. Whatever the nanites were doing, they were tearing through the food he was giving them.
Before closing the door, he changed his mind and grabbed several food-in-a-can drinks as well. If he was going to be doing an extended session of laying on his back with a teaching module, then he wouldn’t want to keep getting up.
He fired off a few more messages to Stick-Point and then wheeled himself back to the bedroom. Shoving the pile of clothes to the side, he tossed the duffel bag onto the bed. The food went onto a nearby nightstand and then he awkwardly slid onto the bed and began the painful process of removing his boots.
They had kept the swelling around his ankles down, but he was not going to sleep or lie around in bed with his boots on.
Both ankles resembled puffed-up sausages more than they did proper ankles. Once he saw how bad they were, he decided to hop back onto the chair and made his way to the bathroom. Using some wet towels, he made some cold compresses. It was the best he could do at the moment. The first aid supplies he had brought with him didn’t have anything that would help the swelling.
Trace had meds for pain and bullet holes in his bag, but not for this. He hadn’t thought to bring one of the proper first aid kits with him on what was supposed to be an easy job. After this, one of them was going to become a permanent fixture in his bag.
Back on the bed, he devoured the burrito and plugged in the teaching module for beginner programming. It took a few seconds for the icon to appear as the module was thoroughly scanned and ultimately deemed safe. Unlike the system breaching module, he wouldn’t be able to run this one in a virtual sandbox environment.
Teaching modules taught a person at an accelerated pace, and that required access to his net spark. It would still take some time to complete the module. However, it was somewhat similar to completing several old college or university-level courses in a matter of weeks instead of months or years. They compressed the time needed, but the person in question still needed to put in the work for the information and the skills.
None of it was freely given to them. The teaching modules weren’t capable of simply putting the information inside a person’s head. Nothing could do that. If they could do that, then they might also be able to implant false memories and more. Research in that direction had been strictly prohibited by the metal goddess herself.
As soon as the program started, he was transported into his avatar, his spark, which currently resembled him in its default state. He could change it if he wanted, but this was his first time actually being able to use his own spark. His old NetConnect hadn’t been able to support the feature. Apparently, the manufacturer had decided it was too premium of an option for a few years. They later rolled back that decision and made it part of the standard package, screwing everyone over who had been forced to get their earlier product.
The program placed his spark inside a classroom. In front of him, there was a desk and computer with multiple screens at the ready. The front of the classroom was made up of a single large screen that took up the entire wall, ensuring that he could see everything. A faceless teacher was standing to the side, waiting for him to take a seat so it could begin teaching him.
It started off with a brief test to see where his knowledge of the subject lay and then jumped right into the lessons.
Apparently, back in the old days, programming was a very language and syntax-focused endeavor. There were multiple languages, with each one having its own requirements that the programmer needed to learn. They did it too because some were better than others for certain applications.
If you wanted the program to simply run fast, but it would only be open for a short period then you could get away with a language that was less optimized but easier to work with. On the other hand, if you were writing something that was meant to be open for long periods of time, you would want to go with a more stable language. If you didn’t, then there would be leaks, and all of a sudden it would take all of your RAM or CPU cycles.
At least, that is how it was supposed to work. Companies still prioritized speed above all else and subpar work inevitably got pushed out constantly.
That was where the current model of programming came into play. It was almost strictly visual-based, with a small coding component to it. If someone wanted to, they could still truly learn how to program with it and optimize their program. Few took the time to learn how to do that. A few programmers would optimize some basic functions on each of their programs, but never go beyond that.
In a way, it was disappointing to learn that this is all programming truly was. A part of him had been expecting more of the old style, and to discover that this is what it was, removed some of the mystique he had always felt for the subject. Regardless, he would still learn all he could, at least as long as it held his interest.
Trace dove into the lessons, only coming out when the protestations of his body made themselves known. His stomach was grumbling about how empty it was, and his bladder was gurgling because of how full it was.
At least the swelling in his ankles had gone down some. He downed another food-in-a-can, ignored the notifications that popped up in the corner of his vision, and carefully wheeled himself to the bathroom. After wrapping his ankles in freshly wetted cold compresses, he settled back in the bed for some sleep. He would have loved to do some more lessons, but his mind and body were dead-tired and needed some rest.
The morning brought a few new pops along his spine as something adjusted itself when he stretched out. The bulk of whatever the tiny robots were doing inside him seemed to have been focused on releasing the pressure from his swelling ankles. Looking down at his feet, they almost looked normal. It was an illusion that only lasted until he tried to move them.
The pain was still there. The little buggers hadn’t fixed anything. All they had done was remove the swelling, so it didn’t damage him.
After a passionate round of cursing, he pulled up the notifications they always had in the corner of his vision and read through them. They had done some more work on his bones, which he already knew. They needed more materials like always, and then there, at the very bottom, were two items he had forgotten about. Well, more like unconsciously pushed from his mind.
- Non-standard nanites needed for additional repairs to the user’s body
- Construction of a nanite production facility is required, provide required materials
There it was the reason they hadn’t done anything to help fix his body during the night. They didn’t have any of these non-standard nanites yet, whatever those even were. The problem was he didn’t even know if there was any titanium in the apartment that he could swallow.
Grabbing the duffel bag, he pulled everything out and sorted them according to metal.
There was no titanium, however, he did find a fair bit of gold, stainless steel, and even a bit of platinum. All good metals, in his opinion, but not what he needed. However, they might still work in a pinch. A quick search on the net showed that stainless steel and platinum had both been used for medical instruments in the past. Not necessarily being left inside the body, but, well, these two were his only options currently.
Trace separated everything with those two metals out and proceeded to destroy them. He hadn’t brought along equipment to cut apart metal and was left to bash at them with a hammer like a savage. It got the job done, mostly, but it also left him with a lot of pieces that were too large for him to swallow.
Regardless, he forced down what he could, and moved back to the bed after drinking yet another food-in-a-can. He felt like he was going to burst, but the nanites kept burning through the material inside the food. So, they obviously needed more of it, even if they hadn’t gotten around to healing his newest issues yet.
Laying down, he started up the teaching program and lost himself for a few hours in the task of learning. It was a message from Ko that paused the program around lunchtime.
‘Where are you? Sevorah and Stick-Point have both asked me to check up on you and to retrieve a few items at the same time. Is there anything you need me to bring or retrieve?’
Trace immediately thought of the braincase, food, and some titanium. ‘Yessss… but it’s going to sound a little weird.’
‘… How weird are we talking?’
‘Nothing kinky, if that’s what you were hoping for. I just need some titanium slivers, food, and something retrieved from my apartment. Which I would remind you, might be watched by scavs or people working with them.’
‘Titanium? You know what, whatever, I can get that easily through the clinic. How much do you need?’
Trace blinked in surprise; he hadn’t even thought of going to a clinic to get the titanium. ‘It depends on the cost, but as much as possible. It just needs to be in thin slivers, is all.’
‘Very well. How much can you afford?’
He closed his eyes and checked his balance. It was higher than he could remember it ever being, but it was time to spend some credits.
‘Let’s say three hundred credits for titanium and another fifty credits for food.’ With any luck, that would give him enough titanium to make a real difference.
‘Done. I’ll even sell it to you at cost.’ He grinned. Yup, she liked him, he hoped. She had been cute. ‘What did you need me to retrieve from your apartment?’
‘That’s the weird thing. It’s an item I retrieved from the scav den and was working on before this happened.’
‘Okay… and the item is?’
‘It’s a braincase. They were using it as a server.’
A call from her came through a second later.
As soon as he answered, his ears were met with a tirade of curses that made them burn. Well, that was definitely one way to get introduced to the new side of a girl.
He waited for her to take a breath before cutting in. “I take it you know the problems that can cause?”
There was silence for a beat, and then a growled, “Yes,” Came through the call. “How sane is the brain?”
“No idea. I managed to connect to it, but it was in a coma. I want to keep the braincase close so I can monitor it. I have some nutrient mix at the apartment if you can bring that as well.”
“I could bring it back to the clinic?” She volunteered.
“I appreciate the offer, but let’s hold off on that for the moment. I don’t want to get you or Sevorah involved with this scav business more than I already have.”