Yes, she does, in fact, use my tail as a pillow. It is very annoying when she drools on it.
-Vanguard Red Menace answering her chat on a live stream. 2054
Synaptic refused to engage with my panic with anything more than a chuckle. I could no longer simply lay in bed and let my thoughts wander, cause they would continue to embarrass me something fierce right now. So, I got up and decided to take a walk around Payson.
As I exited the… Samurai hotel? Command structure? Senestera house? I shake my head. The building, then. It was approaching five pm, and the sun was starting to get low. Sands, my sleep schedule is fucked again. I see the Fabrication swarms starting to build up the frame of the new van, a constant stream of yellow nanites feeding them. I almost wanted to stop and watch, but I decided to move on and follow my original intent to walk around this town I have both put in danger and saved.
I mean, I guess all I really did was find out how much danger the town was in, like a plumber pointing out the small leak from under the sink had eroded the concrete below it because of the sheer amount of acid in the water. At least I wasn't selling a pseudo-fix that may do more harm than good in the long run.
I was starting to spiral again, so I looked around me, noticing just how far I had walked while distracted. I was on the main road in town, and I was surprised at how colorful the shops were, and not just because of all the holo ads.
The storefronts were painted a wide arrange of pastel colors, and they were decorated with actual glass. I could see inside the shops and what they were offering. A two bakeries, a chocolate place, several clothing shops, a few cafes, and an honest to god bookshop. I set into that last one.
The smell was the first thing that hit me, and with my enhanced senses it actually felt like a physical blow. The scent of paper and ink was a unique combination, something I know certain companies sell as airfresheners, but it was also something I loved.
The store was small, about three hundred square feet, with more shelves than walking space. It was connected to the Cafe next door, Slow Roll, and the scent of coffee and baked bread mingled with the papery air.
The shopkeep was a bored looking kid, about my age, but instead of staring blankly into space on his augs, he was reading a book. “A Farewell to Arms”. The book looked well read, almost falling apart. The kid didn't look up as I made my way through the aisles, scanning the titles and authors.
Dozens of pre-Incursion authors, hundreds of books, all in various stages of used, browning, or decay. Then, I passed a section labeled “Vintage games”, and I saw a decent selection of old Dnd Books, GW 40k rulebooks, and a few other different systems. There were a few dozen books here, and all of them were in an airtight case to preserve them.
As someone who had a collection of very well used and annotated gaming books, I couldn't understand that. But I did get that books were a collectors item in this day and age. The amount of c-suite execs' penthouses we infiltrated that had bookshelves filled with dusty, untouched books was a testament to that.
I resisted the urge to buy them. Not only would I have to carry them around, but then I would have to store them somewhere and odds are I wouldn't read them, becoming a hypocrite like the execs.
Stepping back outside, I simply wandered around town, going from street to street, just getting the vibe of the place.
And the vibe was peaceful. I couldn't hear the gunshots or artillery fire I knew was happening. The people here didn't even look twice at me in my obvious combat gear. To be fair, I did see a few people in PMC fatigues walking around, so maybe I was just another PMC to them.
I ended up stopping at a Neo-Mediterranean restaurant. Reviews said they used fresh tomatoes, which was good enough for me.
It was busy, but not crowded, so I got a table as soon as I walked in. There was no menu, just a set meal that the chef set. Made things easy for me, and it definitely made the wait bearable.
What I got was a large slice of thin crust pizza with gyro meat, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes and balsamic vinegar. It smelled really good, no hint of chemicals or that plastic cheese nonsense. I picked up the slice and took a bite and was once again amazed. The meat was savory, actually paired well with everything at once. And the tomatoes did indeed look real.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Finishing up, I paid the tab and left a generous tip, several times the cost of the meal itself. Good food deserved it.
By the time I made it back to the camp, my new van was finished and I saw the last of the dice load themselves into the back. I sat in the driver seat and was amazed, for the fourth or fifth time in the last two hours, at how comfortable car seats could be. I linked this van with the van I drove here in and set a course back to the hotel. Interestingly, the engines on the other van read all clear, with the warning light I saw before not showing.
It seems as though the Fabricator AI decided to fix it up while you were getting something to eat.
Huh. That made sense, I suppose. I sent a bit of praise through the network at it and felt a burst of embarrassment and joy in equal measure.
The ride back to New Phoenix was more breathtaking than the drive away from it. Probably had something to do with the fact that I wasn't driving in pitch black darkness, but instead in the orange and red glow of the sunset.
I can sense that you are pensive about returning to the hotel room. May I inquire as to why?
I see. A sense of responsibility and an aversion to wasting time. I feel as though we have already had a version of this conversation, a very short time ago, even.
There are a few other things. Planning the Megabuilding renovations, creating outfits for yourself, and, of course, upgrading your own equipment.
There are a number of factors involved in the growth of an AI seed, from stimulating activities, to connection to outside information sources, to proximity to other, more developed AI. Considering you did give it a number of relatively simple research and development tasks and had it build a semi complicated vehicle with Spatial expansion technology, it should be stabilized by time you reach the hotel.
The ride back was quiet as I read a few more news articles from The Family Store app. There was information on the party Blizzard invited me to. It happens every year, open to any Samurai, related to The Family or not, and their families. Lots of newer Samurai, some vets. I didn't want to go, but I'm sure Roger would make me. He had a nose for opportunities.
Pulling into the hotel, I informed the valet that both vans are, indeed, mine. When his supervisor arrived to explain the one vehicle per party rule, Synaptic did something that made him realize what I was. There was something deeply satisfying in seeing someone so far up their own ass get yanked out and see just how fucked they thought they were.
As a parting gift, I mentioned that only one of them was filled with horribly deadly nanites that didn't like being jostled around.
I only took in a few dice. Rogal, of course. Two Assault swarms, a Collection swarm, a Generator Swarm, a Scout swarm and the Fabrication Swarm pair that the AI seed inhabited.
On better news, no journos swarmed me in the lobby, which means management took whatever Synaptic said to heart.
Returning to the room, I sat back down on the couch and felt my tense muscles relax. I entered the network and saw that the new AI did, indeed, finish stabilizing her avatar. And she was very blue.
Blue frizzy hair, blue cardigan under Jean overalls under a slightly too large lab coat, wearing heavy work boots. Her sharp blue eyes were covered by a comically thick pair of glasses. And she had blue freckles. Unlike Rogal who was a mass of steel, she was very petite, and had a couple articulate biomechanical tentacles attached to her back.
“Greetings, General!” she said while bowing. Her voice was just as high as I assumed it would be. “Thank you so much for your praise on my mediocre projects!” She righted herself, and her eyes sparkled as she stared into mine. Like, actual sparkly particle effects and her pupils shifted into a group of stars. Oh Sands she was going to get me addicted to caffeine in order to keep up with this level of enthusiasm.
It was a testament to my augs that I could have two trains of thought going in parallel, as my trepidation was perfectly separate from this conversation.
Her head bobbed rapidly. “And I will make sure to only do better going forward! I noticed last time you had a strong desire for the Imperial Heavy Shuttle. With the travel time from Payson and here. I have come up with a line of vehicles, weapons, and armors based on that setting.”
Dozens of 3d models of guns, swords, tanks and armors arranged themselves in front of us.
“So you have no interest in arming your own army of humans to wage holy war upon xenon scum?” She asks in the most innocent voice possible.