It took a while, due to the sheer size of the floor and the amount of work being done, but they eventually found what they were looking for. A refrigerator with cold sodas, along with a couple of first aid kits. Most of the work was being done by drones that were currently in standby mode. As a result, there were fewer materials on the floor for accident-related emergencies.

  Ko raided each of the first aid kits for anything useful but was unable to find any blood-gels. In the end, they spent a little over an hour on the floor looking for supplies and then cleaning up when they found a sani-spray shower. They still looked as though they had been through a battle, but at least they were no longer covered in blood and other fluids.

  As they waited for the elevator to arrive, Ko repeatedly tried to wake her mother, only to have no luck.

  The elevator doors dinged open, and Trace held the door open, while Ko wheeled the cart with her mother into the elevator. Pushing the button for the eighty-fifth floor, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. His head hurt, and the swift downward motion of the elevator wasn’t doing his stomach any favors.

  “How are we going to find this person that they took two guards to?” He asked with a pained grimace. “I doubt asking for the floor’s resident freak is the best way to go about finding him. They didn’t say if he was a mender, doctor, slicer, or something else entirely.”

  Her fingers rolled across the handle of the cart as she thought. “No, they didn’t. We’ll have to go with something a little more generic, I think. Healer, or perhaps, even just medic.” The doors dinged as they opened. “I guess we’re about to find out.”

  If a floor of a megastructure could be labeled as a slum, it would be the eighty-fifth floor. Whoever owned this particular floor, and floors adjacent to it, had obviously stopped caring about them a long while before. The tree growing up in the middle of the floor was in poor condition and showed signs of graffiti. Everywhere the two looked, there were piles of trash in the corners and there were piles of trash just shoved everywhere.

  “Are we still in the same building?” Trace muttered as he limped along behind Ko.

  The difference between floors was a little extreme, in his opinion. He had already known that different sections of the building were owned by various corporations. Still, he had thought that they would at least take care of what they owned or rented… however, that wasn’t actually the case.

  As they walked farther into the floor, both began to notice that they were also being tailed by what appeared to be armed gangsters. For the moment they were holding back, but Trace kept his hand close to the revolver just in case that should change.

  It wasn’t until they reached the open area around the tree -which was planted a few floors below- that they saw the normal floor inhabitants.

  Still pushing her mother in the cart, Ko approached one of them, while Trace maintained a careful eye on the people behind him.

  “Hi, we’re looking for a medic or a healer that we heard is on this floor,” She asked a pair of women politely.

  They opened their mouths to respond, only to close them a moment later without saying anything as the armed people began to approach at last.

  Trace pulled out his large revolver and held it at the ready, ensuring they could see just how wide the diameter of the barrel was. It was enough for those with brains to slow down and grab the people next to them.

  His blue eyes glowed with anger. “How about one of you answer her question?” He pulled back the hammer on the revolver, cocking it so the slightest pressure on the trigger would let him fire the gun.

  “Are you talking about old man Meduci?” One of them asked, swallowing heavily, his eyes glued to the barrel of Trace’s revolver, which seemed to grow larger in his vision.

  Ko turned away from the two women. “I don’t know. Is that who we mean? Is this Meduci a healer or medic?”

  Another of the armed gangsters snorted in disbelief. “He’s something alright. Not sure what he is, but he’s the closest we have to a well… anything along those lines on this floor.”

  “Take us to him, then. As you can see, I’m in need of help.” Trace tapped his unmoving leg. “Don’t let that give you any ideas though. This hand cannon has enough power to erase several of you from existence at a time.”

  The group broke up with mumbles of too much trouble. They targeted people who were unarmed and easy targets. Someone carrying a massive revolver and a sword, even if he was using it as a cane, didn’t fall under that category. They might think about it again later, but for the moment, this particular target was too much trouble.

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  A few of the men waved for Ko and Trace to follow them and then led them down one corridor and hallway after another. The gangsters had relaxed somewhat after they decided not to rob the three of them, though Trace kept his revolver in-hand just in case.

  The apartment they led them to had been modified to combine several units into one, giving this Meduci fellow more room to work with. One of the men who had led them to the apartment knocked on the door, and then, as one, all of them hurried away.

  Trace raised a brow at their curious behavior, suddenly a lot more cautious of the man they were there to meet. It seemed as though the guards weren’t the only ones who considered this man potentially a freak.

  Ko, meanwhile, had pulled her mother away from the door and was also looking cautiously at the door, waiting for it to open.

  It took a minute, but eventually it did, revealing a man of about fifty, with some of the most obvious cyberware either had seen in a while. Both of his eyes, an arm, and a leg were all MaxGear items. The eyes were less obvious, but they bulged ever so slightly more than was normal. The other two had the typical over-engineered, ugly as a sweaty fat person running after the burrito truck, look that the brand always seemed to possess.

  “Are you Meduci, the medic or healer?” Ko asked, somewhat doubtfully, eyeing his cyberware. Even someone living in a megastructure -though on an admittedly crappy floor- should have been able to afford better items than that.

  The older man paid her no mind, his eyes zeroing in on Trace’s leg, and the passed-out Su-Min in the cart. “That is my name. Whether or not I am a healer depends on whether I find you interesting as a person. If I don’t, then-” He grinned maliciously. “Well, scavs aren’t the only ones who know how to slice and dice people.”

  Trace smirked. “Works for me.”

  He brushed past Ko and lightly pushed the man backward into the apartment. They were mostly there to check up on Cerys’ two guards anyway. Getting some actual help with their own injuries would, of course, be nice, but he wasn’t going to risk putting either of them in any real danger. If there was any sign that this old man meant them harm, then he wouldn’t hesitate to put him down.

  “Why do I get the feeling that the two of you aren’t here just for my healing services?” The man asked, stepping to the side.

  “Because we’re not,” Ko replied, choosing to answer him honestly. “I’m not saying they wouldn’t be a perk, but they weren’t our main reason for coming to find you.”

  All the previous mischievousness and joviality the man had displayed vanished as he became serious.

  “What, if I may ask then, is your real reason for coming to find me?”

  “You should have received a pair of new patients a little while ago, likely brought by two guards,” Trace told him, leaning against a nearby wall. “The patients would have been female and guards themselves.”

  The old man said nothing, though his face became carefully blank. “I don’t discuss my patients with other people.”

  Ko nodded appreciatively. “Good. However, in this case, the two females were assigned to protect us by Cerys. The two guards who brought them here are part of the group who injured them and us. They are hoping that by saving them, they can get some sort of favor from Cerys.”

  It took some back and forth to convince him that what they were saying was the truth.

  “Where are the two guards that brought them here?” Trace asked as the man led them to the room where the two female guards were resting.

  “That I cannot say. After delivering these two, they left. I have no doubt that they will be back, but for the moment, they are gone.”

  Trace clicked his tongue in irritation. That meant they couldn’t simply take the two. If they did, then the guards would take out their revenge on the old man.

  “I guess we’ll stick around for a little while then,” He said as they entered the room.

  Ko placed her mother to the side and began inspecting the two women. She reviewed the work the man had done with audible notes of approval or glares, as was appropriate.

  “Some of the work you did on them is-” She shook her head in amazement. “I’ve never seen sutures that clean and tight that weren’t done by a machine before, which I know you don’t have. Then there is this!” She pointed at the partially custom cyberware which was now missing parts, not all of which had originally been damaged. “It’s like you’re half doctor and half slicer. Are they missing any fleshware internals?”

  Meduci raised his hands and recoiled a step. “Hey, let’s be clear, I don’t deal in the flesh trade. Cyberware is another matter entirely. I have to pay for supplies somehow. You think any of this stuff is cheap?” He scoffed and sat on a nearby stool, shaking his head. “In the outside world, a blood-gel or a PlugDoc runs you what, ten, twenty credits?”

  Ko nodded. “It’s been a bit since I looked at the exact price, but they’re not considered expensive by most edgers.”

  “Well, megastructures are closed environments for the most part. Sure, most of us can leave, but there is only so much you can bring in before someone gets mad and wants a cut. Going back to blood-gels and PlugDocs, any given week their price can vary between sixty and eighty credits, for a single one. That’s just for a simple basic item. Imagine how much everything else must cost.” He ran his normal hand down the back of his head and scratched his neck. “Of course, I’m going to be forced to cut corners whenever possible and slice into certain patients. No one would be able to afford my services otherwise.”

  “So, you’re taking from the rich in order to help the less fortunate and abused.” Trace translated for the man.

  “Not exactly how I would have phrased it, but in effect, yes.”

  “Ugh, the more I learn about this place today, the more I detest it,” Ko muttered. “Fine whatever, we won’t use any of your supplies, but can I use whatever equipment you have to check the three of us over while we wait?”

  Meduci slowly nodded. “You look a little young to know how to operate everything. How long have you even been in your apprenticeship program, and who’s your mentor?”

  “Sevorah was my mentor. I took the graduation tests a couple of weeks ago. I’m a full mender now.” She said, not even bothering to hide her smirk as his mouth dropped open in surprise.

  “I used to know Sevorah. She was good, much better than her own mentor… what was her name Hannoying? Hanbutt? Hanstupid? Pretty sure it began with ‘Han’.”

  “Hannah, and yes, I agree, the old woman is a piece of work. Now, can you show me your equipment?” Ko suddenly found herself liking the old man more than she had before. Anyone who disliked Hannah couldn’t be too bad of a person.

  Thank you to all the people who have taken the time to rate the story and to my latest Patrons! I have other stories up on my Patreon, including my current WIPs. Which are now Created G.H.O.S.T. System(My Cyberpunk story), WetWorks2, plus The Restaurateur and His Daughter and DungeonFall. :)

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