Chapter 30: Cyberware Calibration
Inside the manufactorum, the cold, artificial light shone evenly, illuminating the network of scars and metallic implants crisscrossing Maine's bronzed skin. He lay on the specially modified medical slab, his body subconsciously tense. Despite his complete faith in Joric's technical abilities, granting full system-access to a mysterious, heavily augmented tech-nomad still triggered a primal, street-survival instinct of caution.
Several slender, precise mechadendrites extended smoothly from beneath Joric's robes. Tipped with high-precision sensors and micro-adjustment tools, they hovered over Maine's exposed interface ports like a nest of programmed, metallic serpents.
"Relax, Maine. Your muscle tension is creating bio-static interference with the interface readings."
Joric's synthesized voice remained flat. His crimson optical lenses minutely adjusted their focus, meticulously scanning the data-ports at the base of Maine's neck and along his spine.
"By the Omnissiah's Motive Force! Look at this... 'assemblage.' It is as if a cohort of intoxicated enginseers cobbled together components from different eras, incompatible manufactorums, and heretical designs, and then performed no systems integration or calibration rites whatsoever."
He paused, his tone taking on a clear, critical edge. "By the Omnissiah's sacred code! This is blasphemy against the Machine Spirit! Every implant, no matter how small, possesses its own internal harmony and logic. To crudely integrate them without proper sanctification, without considering the whole... it is like forcing feral beasts into a single cage. They will only tear at each other, consuming their potential in internal conflict. That your systems function at all is a statistical anomaly, but the inefficiency is appalling. The internal conflicts are legion. It is only a matter of time before a catastrophic failure cascade delivers unto you a 'surprise' of exquisite agony."
Maine and his crew heard the terms "Omnissiah's Motive Force" and "Machine Spirit," and a flicker of confusion crossed their faces. They exchanged glances but said nothing. In this gonk-brained world, what top-tier techie didn't have their own weird quirks and beliefs? They chalked it up to Joric's personal brand of strangeness.
One of the finest mechadendrites gently but precisely jacked into the main neural interface at the base of Maine's spine. Another simultaneously connected to the power-relay port for his sub-dermal armor layer.
"Commencing full diagnostic protocol. Clear your mind. Do not interfere with the data-flow. Old Friend," he addressed the servo-skull, "synchronize monitoring of all bio-signs and neural-current fluctuations. I require pure, unfiltered data."
++[Affirmative.]++
The hovering servo-skull's blue oculars pulsed steadily, projecting real-time streams of Maine's cardio-pulmonary function, hormone levels, and neural load onto a large display screen as scrolling graphs and readouts.
Within Joric's internal vision, a massive torrent of data began to flow from Maine's body. His powerful processing core acted like an infinitely fine sieve, instantly capturing, separating, and analyzing every packet of information.
The disparate cybernetics within Maine—implants from Militech, Zetatech, and countless minor chop-shops, spanning different decades and design philosophies—their operational status, energy cycles, signal conflicts, down to the micron-level of mechanical wear, were all tagged, magnified, and subjected to deep, penetrating analysis. This wasn't simple troubleshooting; it was a fundamental comprehension of the entire complex system, down to the quantum-level of its code.
++[Militech 'Fortress-II' Sub-dermal Plating detected. Firmware version obsolete. Defensive algorithms are overly conservative, maintaining an unnecessary 15% baseline power draw even in non-combat states, resulting in significant energy inefficiency.]++
++[Circumventing manufacturer's redundant code. Reconstructing base protocols. Implementing new dynamic situational-awareness regulation algorithm. Optimization projection: Power consumption reduced by >20%. Peak output performance smoothed.]++
++[Further conflict detected: Zetatech 'Titan'-class skeletal reinforcement frame lacks effective synergy with 'Fortress' plating's dampening layer. Resonance frequency conflict is inducing systemic internal stress and accelerating wear.]++
++[Recalculating and adjusting dampening-layer parameters to achieve harmonic frequency synchronicity. Optimization projection: Component durability increased. Overall motive-power synergy significantly enhanced.]++
++[By the Omnissiah... your 'Kerenzikov' neural accelerator...]++
One of Joric's mechadendrites paused fractionally, its sensor readings spiking.
++[This neural accelerator is five standard years obsolete. Critically, the non-standard data-link is catastrophically out of specification. Signal latency and decay values far exceed tolerance, creating severe performance mismatch between high-grade component and low-grade connection. Unit potential is severely throttled.]++
++[Attempting to bypass inherent interface limitations. Optimizing bio-electric signal pathways directly. Uploading custom-written firmware protocols. Note: Physical hardware limitations cannot be fully circumvented, but effective response-velocity and system stability should be elevated to acceptable operational parameters.]++
Maine kept his eyes shut, feeling faint but deep vibrations within his body, localized heat exchanges, and the occasional, razor-sharp prickle of pain. It felt as if countless microscopic machines were working silently at the interface between his flesh and metal. He could clearly feel the stiffness and phantom pains he had long accepted as part of his existence rapidly fading, replaced by an unprecedented sense of fluid integration and surging power welling up from his core.
Around him, Dorio, Falco, Rebecca, Pilar, and Sasha watched in hushed silence. They could see the tension in Maine's brow slowly smooth out. They could even hear the subtle change in the sound of his internal cybernetics—the faint grinding and static replaced by a smoother, deeper, more powerful hum.
Approximately thirty-seven minutes later, Joric's mechadendrites retracted in sequence, their tool-tips automatically cleansing and resetting.
"Phase one systemic optimization complete. Overall operational efficiency increased by approximately thirty-five percent. Standby power consumption reduced by eighteen percent. Core neural load has returned to safe parameters. Rise. Test the results."
Maine sat up, first slowly moving his limbs, absorbing the difference, then exploding into a series of lightning-fast blocks and punches. His movements were impossibly fluid, brutally fast, and perfectly precise. Even the sound of his fists cutting the air was sharper.
A look of sheer, incredulous joy spread across his face.
"Gods... This feels... like I've been rebuilt from scrap! No, better! Like... like this is the first time I've really owned this chrome!" He clenched his fists, feeling the coordinated, surging power that now responded perfectly to his will. "Always felt like something was... fighting itself inside. Now? It's just... smooth!"
Joric gave a slight nod, apparently satisfied. His optical lenses turned to the rest of the crew. "Next."