Paranormal Link 5: A Lullaby for the Implant
I've never raised a kid, but trudging home after a grueling day and picking up a gift for one—didn't that have to feel something like this? Our guest last night was so sweet~ Came bearing an implant in hand~ Mm-mm. Humming the tune that bubbled up unbidden, I strolled down a quiet street in North End. With the sun down, not a soul stirred in the empty road, and my song echoing through it carried an eerie chill.
...Was that the right melody? Too many years had passed since childhood for me to perfectly recall a nursery rhyme's notes. I wasn't old, but time had a way of blurring most memories... Damn, that made me sound like some geezer.
I hugged the implant tighter under my arm to keep it from slipping and quickened my pace. There'd been a minor hitch, but it all worked out—I got the goods, and as a bonus, snagged the gorilla's arm too. Time to hand the item off to the old man quick, then maybe give this arm to Blanca tomorrow. After that scrap, I could really appreciate how spot-on her tinkering had been, even if it seemed slapdash at first glance. My hand felt off—probably just psychosomatic since I didn't use it much—but the leg? The stability when planting my foot was worlds better than before. Hell, when I sliced those bullets, if my left leg's balance had been shot, I'd have eaten shrapnel or lead for sure.
Even quack mechanics have their levels—crazy quack beats pretty quack? Nah, pretty quack wins. Lost in that thought, a flickering streetlight caught my eye.
Flick... flick. Slow, irregular pulses of light drew my gaze, revealing a silhouette approaching from across the street. I caught myself before staring and kept walking, ignoring it.
"...Hey there."
A thin voice cut through the dry city air, reaching me.
"......"
I paused, then turned back naturally. Had the light steadied? Under the now-still glow stood the woman I'd just passed. Facing me in threadbare clothes was a sleek beauty. Not tall, but perfectly proportioned with real sculptural grace. Artificial white skin, plump red lips, hazel cybernetic eyes staring right through me. Chrome gleamed like jewelry on her cheek and neck, wrapping down into a faded dress clinging to her body.
"Hi."
"...Hi."
I returned the greeting, and her lips curved faintly.
"Where you headed?"
"Home."
"On your way back from work?"
"Just tying up one loose end."
She spoke so friendly, so I matched her tone. But...
"Have we met before?"
Unless I'd lost my mind or my memory, no way I'd crossed paths with a woman like this.
"You know a place around here called Heud Repair Shop?"
Instead of answering, she flashed that cryptic smile and turned the question back on me.
"...Nah, no clue."
"Yeah? Guess it's an abandoned shop, so maybe that's why..."
Her eyes, fixed on me, slid like a caress over my left arm, then slowly returned.
"Got a lot of baggage."
"Just how it shook out."
"And that arm?"
"Picked it up as a gift."
"Romantic."
Her flat voice warmed oddly, like she meant it.
"Know any shuttered repair shops nearby? Could use a tip."
"...Keep going down this road, there's one. Word is gangbangers have been in and out lately, though. Can't really recommend it."
"So kind."
"Eh, no big deal."
Silence fell after that. We eyed each other in the weird standoff until she raised a hand lightly, breaking it.
"Bye."
"...Bye."
She waved casually and sauntered off at an easy pace. I turned back to my path, her gaze lingering in my mind. Even as we smiled and locked eyes, those lens-like orbs had watched me without a shred of emotion. That glass-bead hazel stuck with me.
It reminded me of Sheriff Lena from Wells Town. Her eyes were cyberware too, but despite the cold machinery, they held human warmth. Her personality was a bit gruff and rough around the edges, but the way those mechanical parts conveyed feeling had stuck with me—I still remembered that look crystal clear. The difference between this woman and Sheriff Lena? It wasn't just high-end versus budget cyberware. Or how well it mimicked humanity.
This was... The eyes of that bastard peering down at me on the operating table flashed back. Mad, darting orbs scanning wildly behind glasses. A matter of how human they felt.
I glanced back— she was gone, leaving only the empty street. Shaking it off, I hurried toward the old man's building.
Something felt off, nagging at me.
///
"The goods?"
Parting the haze of smoke, there was the old man, still parked in his chair puffing his pipe just like when I'd left. Had he sat there the whole time...? Chain-smoking like that bordered on the superhuman. Feeling almost reverent, I set the case from the three-legged stool on the desk.
"...Blood on it."
He squinted at the stain on the corner, eyes narrowing on me. That look screamed trouble again, huh? So I raised a hand to calm him.
"Hold up. This time it was quiet, no issues."
"...This blood?"
"Some beef with customers who came before me, I guess."
"......"
He scowled deeper, disbelief etched in, but I stood tall— no lies here. The bleeders had spilled at the shop, so none splashed this far.
"Then what's with that arm?"
"......"
Caught off-guard, I glanced at the limb tucked under my side.
"......"
"......"
"You little shit."
That weird chick encounter had scrambled my head—I'd straight-up forgotten about it! Scrambling for an excuse, but the old man shot up from his seat faster, bulging eyes leaning over the desk right in my face.
"What the hell did you do...?"
"Chill. Price jacked up, they wanted more, just a little friction."
"A little? A lit-tle? Even budget-grade, that's a WolfTech power arm. Twice the value of that leaked cyberdeck I sent you for!"
"I'm telling you, chill! They're alive, at least."
"...At least?"
"No, they're fine, totally fine... were...!"
Who knew now? That hazel gaze flickered in my mind, and I added cautiously,
"...Were. Up till I left."
"...You fucking maniac..."
Struck speechless, he slumped back into his chair with a groan.
"For real, though. No fatalities. Just pried this off the joker as compensation."
"...Hoo..."
I explained steadily, and he took deep drags to steady himself. Pipe deep-breathing for calm? Doubtful, but no need to poke the bear.
"...Fine, whatever. Gang trouble's half like this anyway. Can't say you handled it great, but better than coming back beat to shit."
Enlightenment phase? The mood mellowed as he continued.
"So, what about that thing?"
"Oh, this? Gift for someone."
"...Lopez's girl?"
"......? ...Yeah."
I blanked on the name for a sec, tilting my head, then nodded—Lopez meant the sandwich shop couple.
"...Just make sure the thugs don't know it went to her."
Whatever. With a sigh, he reached for the case amid a fresh cloud of smoke, popping it open. The thin slab from before gleamed inside; he lifted it gingerly.
"...Looks good. No issues. Hmph, if shit hits the fan, their problem."
Back in the case, lid shut, stashed under the desk.
"Doubt you got an account... here."
Muttering through smoke, he slid two chips my way. Lifelong smoker or chip-flick pro? They glided precise, stopping at the desk's edge.
"One's a credit chip loaded up. Other for opening an account at the guild."
"Whoa, you didn't have to..."
Generous heart, foul mouth—true adult. I lit up at the unexpected kindness, but he grumbled,
"For my convenience. Already deducted the data chip cost—no need to thank me."
"......"
Sold again. Old ginger burned hot; I stared blankly as his slit eyes glared over tiny glasses, like what're you gonna do about it?
...Hey, a handout's a handout. Soothing my bruised ego inside, I raised my still-held hand higher—universal got something to say gesture.
"...What."
"What's the guild?"
"Sigh, ask a beggar."
"...Yeah."
Hated seeking out beggars on foot, but fine.
"Night, then."
"...No other bullshit, right?"
"Told you, none."
"Gotta trust you first..."
Grumbling to the end, I left the raccoon den behind.
Sheesh, no problems, I said.
...Probably. No survivors left by now, anyway.