Chapter 14: Treatment and Assessment
"Synthetic nutrients? What... what kind?" Pilar couldn't help but ask, his face a mask of pure terror at the thought of expired military rations.
"The composition is balanced, providing all necessary amino acids, vitamins, and minerals," Joric's reply was purely technical. "Flavor profiles are available in 'Standard Utility Bar' or 'Unflavored Nutrient Paste'."
Pilar's face fell. Rebecca just rolled her eyes. "Beats starving! Deal!" She gritted her teeth and slapped Pilar's arm. "It's better than being flatlined by Slashers or dying of thirst! Plus, he can fix your busted-ass shoulder!" She tried to cover her own nervousness—and a tiny spark of excitement—with a loud, pragmatic declaration.
Pilar took a deep breath and nodded, trying to look composed even as his legs still felt weak. "Alright, Boss. We accept your offer. We'll work for you." At the very least, this thing seemed to value efficiency and logic over simple sadism, which was a rare blessing in the wastes.
"A wise decision," Joric said, retracting the power fist. "First step: adaptive modification. This will ensure operational efficiency, collaborative reliability, and reduce unnecessary resource attrition."
Two mechadendrites extended toward them, steady and firm, their tips glowing with a soft calibration light. Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut, her long eyelashes trembling. Pilar held his breath, his body tensing for whatever was to come.
"Relax," Joric's flat voice commanded. "The experience will be superior to the installation of your low-grade prosthetics."
The "modification" was not the agonizing, terrifying procedure they had imagined. Instead, it was carried out with an unnatural, impossible precision. Joric's movements were stable and practiced, as if he had performed this litany countless times. The mechadendrites moved with an economic grace, not a single motion wasted.
"Your optical prosthetic is a low-cost variant of the Tsunami Type-3," he commented, his voice flat as a microscopic tool extended from a tendril. "The lens is heavily abraded and the image processor is a previous-generation model. It is why you must constantly squint."
Rebecca's eyes flew open. "How the hell did you know that?"
"My scan registered an abnormally high frequency of micro-focus adjustments, and the infrared functionality is near-total failure," Joric replied. "I am installing a new sensor suite and processing unit. It will provide environmental-scan highlighting, enhanced low-light functionality, and a basic threat-identification overlay. This should increase your resource-acquisition efficiency by over fifteen percent and significantly improve your situational awareness in compromised light."
The process was as smooth as swapping a standard component. Tiny points of laser-weld flashed, but caused no pain. Rebecca felt only a moment of faint warmth, and then her vision exploded with new data.
For Pilar, the work was more intricate. A mechadendrite extended microscopic probes and nano-repair units, emitting a high-frequency thrum that was barely audible. "Left shoulder neural interface. Conduction bundles three and four show significant signal decay and cross-talk interference," Joric diagnosed. "A lingering complication from the improper installation of a 'Kerenzikov' speed-module, I hypothesize. It severely impacts your fine-motor stability."
Pilar stared. "You even know about the Kerenzikov? That thing burned out a month ago!"
"The scar-tissue on the circuitry is... distinct," Joric replied, already working. "I am re-calibrating and reinforcing the primary neural interface. This will eliminate your operational tremors and should increase your response time by approximately ten percent. Next time, do not use secondhand, un-sanctified connectors for velocity-ware."
When he finished, Rebecca eagerly opened her new eye and was hit by a flood of information. The world had new layers. The outlines of components in the distance were highlighted. Dark corners were now perfectly clear. She could even, somehow, differentiate the density of the materials she was looking at.
"Whoa! This… this is preem!" she yelled, looking around like a kid with a new toy. "I can see the conduit layout in the walls! Pilar, is that wrench on the third layer of your kit missing a tooth?"
Pilar cautiously moved his left arm. An unprecedented, fluid ease of motion returned to it, and a look of pure, disbelieving joy spread across his face. The nagging stiffness and pain that had plagued his every precise movement was just... gone. The arm was stable, strong, and perfectly responsive.
"That's… nova," he muttered, clenching and unclenching his fist, making a few complex gestures. "This is better than any ripperdoc... How did you do that?"
"A standard litany of neural-interface optimization," Joric replied dismissively. He had, of course, also silently implanted monitoring and location modules into both of them—a standard procedure for any Tech-Priest, a simple, rational act of risk management. "Your survival and operational efficacy should now be significantly enhanced."
The siblings, completely lost in the joy of their new upgrades, were oblivious.
"Now," Joric retracted his mechadendrites and gestured to the carnage outside. "Your first task: Sanitize the exterior. Systematically reclaim all usable components and resources. Afterward, you will provide a detailed report and map-markers for all known locations in the vicinity that may contain high-value parts, rare materials, or stable power sources."
He paused, then added, "Consider this your initial field-efficacy assessment. The results will determine future resource allocation and upgrade priority."
Rebecca and Pilar looked at the battlefield they now had to clean, then felt the new strength in their bodies and the new data in their vision. When they looked back at the tall, silent, red-robed figure, the fear was still there, but it was now mixed with a strong sense of pragmatism, a new spark of hope, and a sudden, urgent need to prove their worth.
"Let's go, Pilar," Rebecca said, rubbing her new, adjusting eye. She strode out first, her voice eager. "Let's show the boss we're not just gonk-brained leeches. Besides, I wanna see what else this new eye can find in that scrap."
Pilar sighed, adjusting his goggles, and followed, already muttering. "I just hope that 'synthetic nutrient' isn't just stale protein-paste... Still, this arm... this arm is nova. Worth it..." He flexed his wrist, already subconsciously assessing the corpses for the most valuable parts to reclaim first.
Joric watched them begin their work. Their movements were clumsy, but their attitude was positive. His crimson optics flickered. The servo-skull drifted near, its jaw clicking softly.
His internal log updated: ++Two temporary external collaborative units acquired. Loading management sub-protocol: Resource Reclamation, Regional Reconnaissance, Auxiliary Security. Initial task assigned. Monitoring efficacy and adaptation.++
He hoped their material output would justify the energy and components he had just expended. At the very least, they were far more animated than servitors. They might provide... interesting new data samples. And noise.
He turned back to the critical power cell, his massive red form once more sinking into the familiar, sacred work of the Machine-God.