Chapter 18: A Shift in Perspective
"Aren't... aren't you guys going to say anything to me?"
"About what?"
Maine rolled up the sleeve of his right arm. With a click, the metallic hand detached at the wrist, hanging limply as the wrist mechanism peeled back like a blooming flower, revealing a black barrel. With a mental command, the barrel slid forward and extended, transforming his forearm into a projectile launch system.
He casually cleaned and oiled the arm-cannon, prepping for the breach. As he worked, he grinned at Kiwi. "Don't you worry, choomba. This gig's gonna go off without a hitch. As for saying something... you mean about getting a cut for doing nothing?"
Maine let out a booming laugh. "That's how we roll. You'll get used to it."
Get used to it, my ass!
First of all, I haven't even officially joined. This is a trial run. And second, you think I'm talking about eddies right now? I'm talking about him!
Kiwi felt a surge of irritation. But she knew a good netrunner had to stay cool, composed. She couldn't be like that pink-and-white kitten, always putting on a cute act.
She took a deep breath. "I'm not worried about the money," she said to Maine.
She lit another cigarette, her fingers trembling slightly as she brought it to her lips. She raised her left hand, and the tip of her index finger glowed, heating the cigarette's end. She exhaled a perfect smoke ring. "I'm asking about Rhys. Maine, what the hell is his deal?"
"Whoa, already digging for intel on your teammates?" Maine said with a chuckle, giving her a wink. "Surprising, isn't he? He's a little gift from the Mox."
"You've already scanned him, right?"
Kiwi, leaning against the car, took a drag from her cigarette and nodded.
"The kid's only got a few basic, off-the-shelf implants. But his speed, strength, and reflexes are off the charts. Better than mine, even," Maine said, his voice filled with a mix of excitement and pride.
They'd had an arm-wrestling competition back at the hideout. Guess who came in first?
That's right... Rhys.
Maine thought he'd at least take second. Nope. He came in third. Dorio was second; without using her chrome, her Animals background made her a natural powerhouse, but even she lost to Rhys. When they went again using their implants, Maine could hold his own against Rhys, but Pilar, even with his Gorilla Arms, still lost.
Pilar had a full-blown existential crisis. Maine, on the other hand, was ecstatic.
Rhys's physical prowess reminded him of his past, back when he was a soldier. He'd seen monsters like Rhys in the military. And the legends on the street told of operators who were unbelievably powerful without relying on chrome—legends like the one and only Morgan Blackhand.
And now, a monster like that was on his crew.
"He's already this strong without any serious ware. I can't even imagine what he could do with some top-tier chrome!" Maine's excitement was palpable.
"I don't know," Dorio mused. "If Rhys is already this strong, maybe not getting chromed-out is a good thing."
"Spoken like a true Animal," Rebecca sighed from the side, hefting her gun. "More chrome means more power. Is there anything better?" Honestly, Dorio's ex-gang, what can you expect? A bunch of gonks with synth-muscle pumped straight into their brains.
Hearing Rebecca's comment, Dorio's face split into a ferocious grin. She grabbed Rebecca in a headlock, her two fists squishing the smaller girl's head. "What's that supposed to mean, 'spoken like a true Animal'? Am I wrong? More chrome is good, but too much chrome brings its own problems. You think if Rhys was chromed to the teeth, and Sasha got a chance to hack him, he'd stand a chance against her? Look at Maine and Pilar! She's a deckhead who can sling the Cyberpsychosis quickhack!" Dorio shouted into the top of Rebecca's head.
Clink.
The cigarette slipped from between Kiwi's fingers, tumbling down the front of her red trench coat. Her eye twitched. She looked at Dorio. "What did you just say? You're kidding, right?"
"Rebecca, is this friend of yours all style and no substance?" Maine asked, watching Kiwi's bizarre reaction and stroking his chin. What was going on? Kiwi seemed like a pro, but she'd lost her cool twice in a matter of minutes. Where was her professionalism? Her ice-queen demeanor? Was it all just for show?
"Cyberpsychosis? Sasha can use Cyberpsychosis?" Kiwi's voice was practically a shout.
"Uh, yeah, I think so?" Dorio said, taken aback by her reaction.
"She definitely can," Maine confirmed, looking at Kiwi, confused. "What's the problem?"
Hearing this, Kiwi was more than shocked. She was terrified. This was a bigger bombshell than seeing Rhys's speed. She grabbed a handful of her yellow hair and pulled.
You've got to be shitting me... Cyberpsychosis?!
How many netrunners in Night City could even use that quickhack? To even attempt it, you needed a professionally assessed Intelligence of twelve or higher. The average netrunner hovered around a seven or eight. Kiwi herself had been assessed at an eight. The average person was a three. Anyone over a six was considered a genius, a top talent in their field.
Netrunning was a unique discipline. Implants and better gear could boost a deckhead's abilities, but only to a certain extent. A netrunner's upper and lower limits were largely determined by their innate intelligence. Of course, intelligence didn't directly equal hacking ability. A brilliant scientist wouldn't know where to start with a cyberdeck.
Kiwi had never considered herself special, but she knew she was smart, a semi-genius. She was a self-taught netrunner, having learned her skills in the harshest of environments. She'd always believed that with a proper education, she could have been even better.
But now, they were telling her Sasha could use Cyberpsychosis? That quickhack... that legendary quickhack...
Kiwi's brow furrowed. She didn't dare think about it any further. She suddenly realized she'd been completely wrong.
Rebecca hadn't led her into a dead-end crew. She'd put her on the fast track to the major leagues.
A crew like this was destined to carve out a piece of Night City for itself. And with Maine's emphasis on loyalty... Kiwi, who had always put her own interests first, felt her fists clench. The sharp tips of her cyber-nails dug into her palms, drawing sparks. She took a deep breath.
Suddenly, a call request pinged everyone on the team.
They accepted. It was Sasha.
"We've got a problem, Maine. This isn't just a chop shop!" Her voice was fast, but her report was clear. "I'm detecting twenty-one hostiles, including four netrunners, all well-armed and chromed. Rhys is at the rear window, ready to infiltrate through the ventilation shaft into the bathroom. But I need backup!"
"Kiwi, did you bring your daemons? I need your help," Sasha said, her tone serious. She wasn't being arrogant. She knew she could take out two of the netrunners instantly, but her personal rig's quickhacks were limited to two or three uses without a full deck and external cooling. Pushing it further would risk frying her own brain. But luckily, they had another netrunner on the team, right?
Maine's face darkened as he looked at Kiwi. Four netrunners? Why the hell would a simple chop shop have four netrunners? He had to go back on his word. If Sasha couldn't handle it, Kiwi had to step in.
He looked over and saw that Kiwi had somehow lit another cigarette. She held it to her lips, inhaling half of it in a single drag, while her other hand pressed against her temple.
"Of course," she said, her voice a clipped, professional monotone.
She flicked the cigarette away and strode towards Rhys and Sasha's position, grabbing her gear as she went. She didn't need to get too close. Sasha would feed her the data stream. She just needed to be in range.
Maine watched her go, then said, half to himself:
"Her cigarette budget must be insane."