Trace’s neck hurt! When his eyes opened two hours and thirty minutes later, he had developed the world’s largest crick in his neck. When he had toppled from his chair, it had been onto his side, and over the next several minutes, he had gradually slid into a strange position. His head was pressing against the end of the bed, while the bulk of his neck on the side was bared to the ceiling.

  Comfortable for a minute or two sure, two hours though, no.

  At the moment, it felt as though his neck was locked in position and refusing to move no matter what he did. Every small adjustment was painful, and he didn’t have enough wherewithal left to even inspect how his arm had turned out.

  It took him well over ten minutes to work the stiffness from his neck. It still hurt to move it, and the crick in his neck was still there. Only the stiffness had disappeared.

  Finally, able to move from the floor to his bed, he continued to massage his neck, wincing every time he got too close to his NetConnect. The pressure that the position had put on it had made the entire area rather sensitive.

  Trace rolled his neck a few more times and then got down to business, inspecting his arm. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but ever since he had woken up on the floor, he had been using it as naturally as his natural fleshware arm. All sense of unfamiliarity had vanished from his mind and a pressure that he hadn’t even been aware of was slowly building had completely vanished.

  The buildup of pressure had slowed and had even reversed some when he had upgraded his nerves to the arm. It hadn’t gone away entirely, as it was still a problem. It had simply been something that he could have lived with, an annoyance, but not a true issue.

  All it would have done was decrease his mental resilience a small amount, nothing more. Then if he ever needed to get something else replaced, he would be that little extra tiny bit weaker mentally when it came time to deal with the issues it caused.

  As he had experienced with his neck issues and the previous NetConnect, not all problems and pains were created equal. He was weak to pain in his neck. Perhaps he was better at handling ones in his arms. Who could say? Only time would truly tell.

  The first thing he noticed when inspecting the arm and hand was that the colors had shifted ever so slightly. It had been a somewhat shiny onyx black before, whereas now it was more on the matte black side of the spectrum.

  Further inspection of the arm revealed that it had been slimmed down and looked more natural than before. The original version hadn’t been ugly or bulky by any means, however, it had still clearly been cyberware. Now, it almost looked as though someone had taken a real arm and then put metal on it. The same applied to his hand and fingers.

  They had been usable, passable even, but they weren’t meant for delicate tasks. Now, the tips of each finger were shaped like an actual finger, instead of something that was merely meant to represent one. The changes combined with the synth skin inlaid in the tips and pads of each finger now allowed him to approach tasks with far more delicacy than before.

  The strength of everything, the metal the arm had been constructed out of, along with the synth-muscle inside it had all been strengthened.

  Perhaps the biggest difference, or at least the one he was most happy about, was that the arm was no longer an inch and a half longer than his left. They matched in length again.

  Before he could think about the various changes too much more, the need to expel the used special nanites made itself known.

  After relieving himself, Trace laid out the railgun on his work desk and began stripping it apart. He couldn’t help but marvel at how easy everything felt now.

  He had just brought in some of the new parts from one of the tech crates when Deckard stopped him.

  “Trace, may I ask a favor of you?”

  He spun around in his chair and nodded. “Sure, what do you need?”

  “Don’t be so quick to agree without first hearing what it is.” The young man, stuck in a braincase, warned. “That said, you have mentioned before that my mother updated your G.H.O.S.T. System, correct?”

  He nodded.

  “And that she also provided you with two atomites when she did so?”

  He nodded again, slower this time.

  “I was hoping you could upgrade my system for me, and give me the second of those atomites?”

  Trace sighed and scooted over to where he had hidden the braincase. “Yeah, sure, just tell me what I need to do.”

  It was a shame to lose the second atomite, as he had hoped to use it on his eyes or NetConnect. As they said, easy come, easy go. It was better for Deckard to have it now, anyway. Trace could always create more, even if it would take a while.

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  “Do you know what hidden functions are?”

  “You mean like the ‘Perk’ system?” He returned.

  “Ah, good. Yes, they are accessed in similar manners. Using the same method, access the ‘Secret Options’ selection.”

  Trace stared at the cameras Deckard used to see, his augmented eyes unblinking for several long seconds. “You have got to be kidding me! That’s what you called it?”

  The man’s avatar had the good graces to look embarrassed as it nodded. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “At some point in the near future, we’re going to have to talk about what other things are hiding inside this system of yours,” Trace muttered as he pulled it up. “Now what?”

  “Um, stick your finger in my nutrient mix port. The upgrade to my G.H.O.S.T. System will happen automatically. The secret menu is needed to transfer resources to another person.”

  “You need to find another way to phrase that. It just sounds so wrong when it is said aloud like that,” Trace said as he complied and followed along by doing more or less the exact same thing that had given him the system in the first place.

  - Outdated version of G.H.O.S.T. System detected

  - 1 Unit of regular nanites will be used to transfer the needed appropriate information for the system OS upgrade

  He felt the familiar swarm of nanites flood his finger and then pass into Deckard. While that was going on, he followed the directions he was given and found the resource transfer section in the option menu. Selecting atomites and his one remaining unit, he sent it over to Deckard as well before he could begin to second guess himself.

  - Atomite transfer of 1 Unit has begun

  - Current number of remaining atomites is 0 Units

  His finger ached a little when he was finally able to pull it free.

  “There you go. Sorry, it took so long to upgrade the version you have. It just never really occurred to me that you of all people, would need it, I guess.”

  “It’s fine. Originally, I had hoped my mother had provided another way for me to get the needed information. Access to the Koarden servers perhaps, or that she would make contact again.” The avatar on the screen sat morosely in front of his computer. “So far, nothing. Then once I saw the changes ‘Overload’ had made to your arm, I knew it was time to simply ask and stop hoping.”

  Trace wanted to comfort him but didn’t know how. Parents and emotional issues were something he knew little about dealing with himself. Instead, he simply changed the subject.

  “What are you thinking of using it on?”

  “My braincase,” Deckard said without hesitation. “I have been working to gather information on the new models that have been designed over the last hundred and thirty years. Not only have there been many general advancements since the model I am using, but there has also been a plethora of technological improvements as well. They had made many missteps along the way as well. However, by studying all the information available, I have been able to compile a list of which models did what well. With that, now I just need to find a way to get my hands on the schematics for them to create a database for it to pull from for the upgrade.”

  “Right… Good luck with that.” Trace told him doubtfully. “Do you have any idea how hard that is going to be to accomplish? Braincases aren’t seen on the open market. They are made specially for each client and then destroyed if one of them does happen to kick it. Breaching their systems would take some sort of wizard-level system ghost. I don’t have the credits to hire a specialized edger capable of breaching systems like that.” He snorted. “I don’t even know if one exists in Denver.”

  “You let me worry about all of that. Don’t forget, programming is my thing while messing around with hardware is yours. You’re actually a little similar to my mother in that regard.”

  “Whatever, just be careful, and let me know when you’re going to go through with it.” He returned to his desk, only to be interrupted a few seconds later by a loud banging on the doors of the warehouse.

  “Who is it?” He called, running to the door.

  His hand reached for the first of the bars on the door before he paused with a shake of his head. For an unthinking moment there, he had been about to open it, because he expected it to be Monroe or Ko on the other side. However, they wouldn’t simply bang on the door like that, and they both had keys to the place.

  There was one other group that he was sort of expecting to make an appearance. He checked the guns that were always strapped to his thighs and pulled out the CD-10.

  “I said, who is it?” He called out again.

  “Trace?” A slightly strangled-sounding voice called back. “This is Georgie. I’m the one you are renting the warehouse from. I’m standing out here with some people from a corporation who say that you have a piece of their property. They just want to retrieve it.”

  Trace rolled his eyes. It didn’t take much effort to read between the lines.

  “Do they have a photo and example of what their property is supposed to be?” He yelled through the door. “I don’t want them taking anything simply because it happens to look similar.”

  At the same time this back and forth was going on, he was busy sending messages to Ko, Stick-Point, and Monroe asking for reinforcements.

  “Did they say where this property I supposedly have is located? Or where they might have seen it? How do they even know it’s actually theirs?” He shot off in a rapid-fire, not giving them a chance to answer his earlier question.

  “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Mr. Delevey!” Someone roared angrily.

  Trace jerked away from the door. “I’m just trying to make sure that you people aren’t going to rob me blind as soon as I open this door. How do I even know that you are even corpo’s, like Georgie says? For all I know, you could be holding him at gunpoint and are nothing more than members of those gangsters that are causing issues all over the city.”

  Someone kicked the main door of the warehouse to the side with enough force to dent the heavy metal.

  Trace got a message back from Monroe, letting him know he was on his way with friends and was a couple of minutes out. Stick-Point had already messaged him that he was sending the word out to everyone even remotely near his position.

  “Please, Trace, can you open the door?” The man he was renting the warehouse from pleaded in a weak voice.

  “Sure, as soon as they confirm that they have something to compare this supposedly stolen item against. They’re not coming in here! I’m not allowing some unknown corpos free rein in my home. I’ll bring whatever it is out to them, for them to look at.” He couldn’t allow them inside, no matter what.

  There were too many sensitive items hidden in the warehouse. Deckard, everything in the basement, some of his weapons and modules. Yeah, there was no way he was going to let some unknown people paw through his stuff.

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