The Fall of Icarus (Cyberpunk)

"Listen, about the implant, is it normal for my body to itch where it's installed?"

"How would I know, amigo?" Marco replied, surprised. "Are you having any issues with it?" he asked with concern, looking intently at me.

"Well, it started itching this morning. If it were a regular infection, the itching would be all over my body, but it's only where the implants are." I pointed to my arm with the personal port and the symmetrical entries on my neck. My arm was already quite red and rashy, and I suspected my neck was the same, but unfortunately, I couldn't see it myself.

"Hmm, that does sound weird..." Marco mused, then suddenly grabbed my arm. "Let's go show you to the local expert." He led me, seemingly back to Sue's shop.

"Is she really going to be able to help?" It was a rhetorical question, really. I didn't know anyone else who understood this stuff, and the woman seemed to have at least some knowledge of the issue. At least, I hoped so...

"She used to be a ripper-tech, but quit for certain reasons," the Latino boy revealed some details about the girl's past. "Sis, we're back!" He got the attention of the perpetually bored beauty, who, like last time, lazily shifted her gaze to us and arched a thin eyebrow quizzically after a couple of seconds. "Tell us what happened this time." Marco nudged me in the side, signaling me to speak up.

"Um, you see, the skin where my implants are - it itches. It's been a problem since this morning, and the itching hasn't stopped." It was awkward to burden a near-stranger with my problems, but I had to swallow my pride and trust this completely unfamiliar person.

"Sit down here, let's have a look." Sue pointed to a chair nearby. Settling into it, I waited for her next steps, curiously watching her tablet screen, where she seemed to be adjusting something. "Alright, now let's see." She pressed on the cap of my personal port and then pulled out a long cable, connecting it to her tablet.

Attention, system malfunction...

The strange message flashed before my eyes again and disappeared a second later. Glancing at Sue, I saw her thoughtful face, her concentration so intense she even bit her nail. Her hands fluttered over the touchscreen, tapping a rhythm only she knew. After a couple of minutes, she seemed to relax a bit and slowed down, while my eyes started seeing really bizarre stuff. A line of running characters appeared, which, to my relief, soon vanished like the previous messages.

"I've never seen anything like this in person. I've heard about some people having similar issues, but with a child and a personally tailored implant..." Sue muttered thoughtfully, closing her program and turning her attention back to me.

"Can you be more specific?" I couldn't help but ask a probing question. After all, we were discussing my health, and my body is precious to me. If something's off, I have a right to know.

"I'm more of a hardware person than a flesh-and-blood type, so all I have are your implant's biometric readings. They're showing increased hormonal activity and accelerated regeneration, along with a bunch of minor stuff that wouldn't make sense to you right now... And that's not all," the girl frowned and looked at me seriously. "Alex, your body is rejecting the augmentation, reverting back to its original state. I can't say why this is happening or what's causing it. My advice is to eat more calorie-rich food and take regular vitamins. You need a full set of amino acids and other nutrients that feed your cells." Sue pulled a sheet of paper from a drawer and quickly wrote something on it before passing it to the teenager beside her.

"What about the implant?" I reminded the brunette of the forgotten topic.

"You have two options: either stuff yourself with immunosuppressants, hoping your body stops rejecting the metal, or remove it right now and let your body fully recover." Sue bombarded me with unfamiliar terms, which were understandable in the context of her dialogue. At the end of her passionate speech, she shrugged, glancing at Marco, who was brooding in the corner.

"Definitely remove it," I stated decisively. Gobbling up a ton of medicine wasn't an option, especially in my situation. I've lived without all this cybernetic stuff before, so I won't grieve its imminent loss.

"Are you sure? This model of implant is highly valued. It'll be hard to get something similar later on," the girl said seriously.

"I'm not in a position to spend money on blockers and hope my problem just goes away. If the implant is as expensive as you say, take it as payment for the operation." My decision didn't surprise her. In fact, I think she expected it, banking on my... prudence? Yes, I believe that's what the brunette was counting on.

"A mature and considered decision for a kid like you," the green-eyed beauty winked at me. "Alright, then come with Marco this evening. I don't have the necessary equipment here, so I can't help at the moment." Marco sighed in resignation, warily eyeing the girl's anticipatory grin. "Don't think, you little scamp, that I've forgotten about last month's incident." Sue smoothly vaulted over the counter and grabbed the would-be escapee by the ear. "Amigo, you still owe me from your last visit."

"What's she talking about, Marco?" I asked curiously, turning to the teenager who nervously scratched his cheek, still trapped in the girl's firm grip.

"Oh, something happened recently, and then I ran out of time," Marco nervously replied, quickly trying to justify himself. "I was planning to come to you this week, sis. Honest." His voice dropped as he tried to appeal to his captor's sympathy.

"You're just lying, you slick-talking scoundrel," the girl snorted, tightening her grip, causing the Latino to involuntarily squirm, clutching at the arm that was pulling him upwards. "Alright then," Mitchell let go of the reddened ear, which the teenager immediately grabbed, nursing the beleaguered limb, "you're off the hook for now, but just try not showing up." Sue wagged her finger threateningly at him and then turned to me with a wink.

"Thanks, I guess," I shrugged uncertainly, unsure how to react to this kind of "help."

"You can thank me after the job's done. For now, just get out of my sight," the dark-haired beauty waved dismissively and vaulted back behind the counter.

"Let's move, before she changes her mind," Marco grabbed my arm and once again led me away like I was some kind of puppet on a string. Being the little guy really sucks...

***

Susan Mitchell - Five Minutes Later

"Now, let's take a closer look," the girl dove back into the implant data retrieved from the boy. The guy's personal port was indeed an expensive toy. A latest-model cable with a trendy health status analyzer attached. It tracked the body's biometrics in real time, storing data every minute in a special storage unit located in the neck region, directly connected to the brain. Alex could access information about his body himself, or so Susan initially thought, until she saw some annotations with her own eyes.

Inexplicably, the individually tailored implant had started malfunctioning and detaching itself from the nervous system. Such a thing simply shouldn't happen unless, of course, his DNA had undergone significant changes. Minor deviations were within the acceptable error margin, but something more serious, like a biological modification of the organism, could theoretically disrupt such a low-maintenance augmentation.

"Who the hell thought it was a good idea to perform such a procedure on a little kid, who hasn't even reached puberty?!" The dark-haired woman was righteously indignant, reading the text with fury.

Changes were occurring at all levels - muscles, bones, ligaments. Moreover, all types of internal body systems had also mutated. For a moment, the girl even thought Alex might have been grown in a test tube, but that didn't match the story with his implant. Those who did this to the child couldn't have overlooked such a detail, meaning the decision was spontaneous. Someone was clearly in a hurry and decided to rely on sheer "randomness."

Suddenly, something clicked in Mitchell's mind, and she began correlating all the information she had with recent events in the city. The brunette opened a news feed, which she usually accessed only to check information about new electronic gadgets. As a technician, she needed to stay abreast of the latest updates, or she risked being swiftly ousted from such a lucrative spot.

"Okay, looks like here it is... BioTechnica Corporation has still not responded to the terrorist act committed by one of its employees. According to our information, Mikhail Volkov, on May 23, 2058, after the end of his work shift, staged an armed rampage in the Charter-Hill - Westbrook microdistrict. The man managed to kill about 150 members of the BioTech unit sent to capture him, as well as a platoon of MaxTac soldiers. He was stopped by Arasaka corporation mercenary Adam Smasher. A post-mortem analysis revealed that Mikhail was under the influence of powerful military-grade stimulants, which were a key factor in his cyberpsychosis."

"Now I get who came up with such idiocy. They decided to let his dad off the hook, and he made a bold move... What a mess I've gotten myself into!" Susan grabbed her head, periodically letting out nervous chuckles. "His parents worked for the corporation," she recalled the boy's words. "Now it makes sense why the kid's words seemed odd to me, that's indeed something you'd better not tell anyone. To be able to keep a secret at such a young age. He's going to go far..." The brunette smirked, closing her eyes, lost in thought. "And what am I going to do with you, Alex Volkov?" Mitchell grabbed a pen and started twirling it around, trying to figure out her next move. "Damn it, how did it come to this!?" Susan slammed her fist on the table, grinding her teeth. There was no safe way to get rid of the kid now.

If she made one phone call now, sure, they'd take the boy away, but no one would pay her. They'd just shoot her and dump her body in the nearest trash heap, just like his mother. Trying to distance herself from the kid was also out of the question. It wasn't in Susan's nature. This world was filled with prime-grade crap, and she didn't want to become the same kind of scum as many of her acquaintances, ready to wag their tails at the slightest hint of profit. Mitchell had learned from others' mistakes and understood that trust was the most valuable thing in this damned world. Just one misstep for your own benefit and gradually you start to compromise your moral stance, becoming more and more like organic filth, devoid of principles and inner dignity.

"Damn it, you'll owe me, and sooner or later, you'll repay your debt!" The girl made her choice, leaning back in her chair...