The next day began relatively easy. The second guard, who I assumed was Justin O’Donnell was on duty at the moment and greeted me when I left my room. A quick consultation of my status convinced me to use the wheelchair for another day, but gladly my hip was healing rapidly.

Breakfast was unfortunately the same old, bland tasteless refuse everyone had. While I grew up on that garbage I should be used to it, but one of the few luxuries I allowed myself when I began to earn real money was real food. Most other indulgences wouldn’t let me stay under the radar.

So I remained in my crappy one-room efficiency, used public transport, kept my state-provided entertainment system, with modified feedback mechanism of course and not that I used it, going into cyberspace and using the cluster instead, and wore mostly standard sponsored clothing.

I did enough official work for a slightly lazy queen, which provided my official income, while my real work was done via the jack at more than eight times the speed, later nearly 15 times. That all kept me off the government watch lists but led to me becoming somewhat obsessed with the taste of my food.

Real food had become very expensive since the great war, as while the algae tanks provided nourishment and oxygen, the best we could do was eliminate the taste, instead of keeping the taste it had.

From what I heard the first iterations were so bad that some people choose to starve to death instead of eating the algae products. It was astonishing that bland was actually better. The algae we used were, out of necessity, optimized for oxygen production, and in the last days of the war, every other line of algae was lost.

Unfortunately, these optimized algae made the meat absolutely unpalatable. That was of course not so bad concerning us humans and anything that wanted to snack on us, but a disaster with meat animals. Beef, pork, fowl, you name it, and it’s inedible.

Considering that over 90% of the agrarian space of the world was destroyed, real vegetables and meat became virtually unaffordable overnight.

Not to mention where our protein came from. As far as I knew, it was not common knowledge, and that was one piece of information I would love not to have.

Spices too were an absolute luxury, as nearly all spices were plant-based. Sure, salt was still available, but everything else?

The first time I had real food was an epiphany. I spend several virtual months learning cooking, and fortunately, that translated into the real world. In the end, I spend nearly ten thousand credits a month on food, an incredible sum considering that my official before tax income fluctuated between 2500 and 3000 credits. One of the things I regretted the most about the way I had to vanish was that I was unable to pack my spices and ingredients.

Well, the good thing about the move was that I now had no reason to hide my affluence anymore, and with time I would be able to recreate my kitchen. So I fought another tasteless sandwich down, slightly bemused at the way the others seemed to like this… stuff.

With me on the table were the two male former slaves. One of them was of what was politely called mixed ancestry. African and Native American roots were discernible, the rest was not. The other was of pure Caucasian stock. What surprised me was the glaring disdain in the way both of them looked at me.

After a few minutes of their silent glower, I sighed and looked directly at them.

“I don’t think we have been introduced yet. I am Veronica Sinclair, and you are?”

They continued staring at me for a bit before they looked at each other, as synchronized. When they turned their attention back to me, the Caucasian sneered at me before answering:

“We know who you are. This is Riley and I am Quirk.” I had to fight down a sigh for the sheer venom he managed to invoke with the first sentence, even if his, well let’s generously call it accent, was barely understandable.

“I would love to say nice to meet you, but it seems that you are somewhat unhappy.” I thought I managed pretty well to keep my rising annoyance out of my voice.

“So how about we shorten the drama and you come out with what irks you?”

Riley’s expression could be called a smile, with much imagination and benefit of the doubt at least. What it definitely wasn’t was friendly, and his voice was quite cold.

“We don’t want another boss. And for certain not a bitch. And a Pure bitch at that.”

It took me a moment to parse what he had said, and I can only approximate the exact wording as his accent was hard to understand, but in the end, it was the same old. I shrugged my shoulders.

“Well, in that case, you are free to leave anytime. Nobody forces you to take the job.”

Of course, I did not have any high hopes that this would be the end of it, but I had to try.

Quirk’s smile was not an iota better than Riley’s when he spoke again.

“You don’t understand bitch. We are not leaving, we are taking over.”

The situation was escalating rapidly, so I elevated the defense condition from save to danger likely, in combination with reducing Quirk and Riley from protected to guest/ danger likely.

“I assume you two were informed about the distribution of income in the group or about the fact that I simply gifted each of you with $2.5 million? If that is the case you should also know that the building here is part of my share. Adding in that I am the only one here that has actually a pretty good chance to get a viable business up and running I don’t see how you could take over in any way.”

I made no attempt to disguise the contempt when I said that. Again it was Quirk who answered.

“You don’t get it. We simply take over. Cry me a river, but this is now our house and our operation.” He gave me a burst of malignant laughter.

“But don’t fear, if you are a good girl we keep you here and let you work for us.”

His grin would probably have been better without his desolate teeth but it managed to convey his smug joy anyway. I on the other hand began a beginning migraine. This time I failed to suppress a sigh.

“Your planning capacity is apparently severely limited, otherwise you wouldn’t have overlooked the quite obvious flaws in your plan.” I saw that neither of the two idiots noticed the security bot entering behind them.

“First, regardless of what you may think about my physical prowess, and I admit that you are probably right in this, I nonetheless managed to overcome and capture Frankel and his slavers more or less on my own. Compared to them you two are relatively small fry in comparison.”

I send the android to bring me a mug of coffee. Synthetic like the rest of the junk, but it had at least a bit of flavor.

“Second, along with you, I freed all the others in this building except Mr. O’Donnell and Mr. Wallace. Unlike you two though, they seem to be at least marginally thankful for that, not to mention for me gifting everybody of them $2.5 million. It stands to reason that they would more likely support my claim over yours. Kate alone would more than reverse your physical superiority.”

The android gave me the mug and I took a sip.

“Third, one of the first things I did when I took over here was getting some bots, that are programmed to follow my orders, and while they are as a rule not among the best in martial arts, they are strong as mountains. Once one of them gets hold of you, you won’t get free again until I say so.”

Another sip, then I placed the mug on the table.

“Fourth, I don’t know if you noticed but there are two newcomers among us. Well, three, but I don’t know if Mia sleeps here as well, so I let her out. But the two new men, I think I already mentioned them, Mr. O’Donnell and Mr. Wallace, were, as far as I understand, send here to keep me alive and kicking for the next six weeks. From the look of it, unlike you they are professionals and I would guess each of them would be more than enough to protect me from you.”

I moved my left index finger along the rim of the mug.

“Finally, should you somehow manage to overcome these odds, you would certainly not enjoy your victory for long. The aforementioned boss of Mr. O’Donnell and Mr. Wallace is none other than Mr. Benjamin Walker, the territorial patron of this part of the city. Considering that I am his only chance to survive longer than two months I would assume that, if I am alive after your little coup, he would be rather invested in freeing me, and if not, punishing the idiots that more or less killed him. I would estimate your chance of survival should you stay here as somewhere between nonexistent and negligible.”

I placed my hand beside the mug.

“I hope you understand that the offer for a job with room and board already is off the table for you. If you ask my opinion you have exactly four possible outcomes here.

You can go peacefully, with your accounts of 2.5 million each.

You can go struggling and depending on the amount of resistance you show you lose at least the money, and possibly more, up to including your clothes.

You can try your harebrained scheme, and survive, in which case you find yourself in a cage with a brand new slavery collar around your neck.

You can try your idiotic plan and make enough trouble that you are killed.”

During my little speech, they both visibly paled, but at the same time, it was clear to see that they would not choose the first option.

It was sad, but they did not strike me as the intelligent type of person. Their position in Frankel’s operation was wholly-owned to their raw strength.

At nearly the same time both of them let their right hand fall under the table, presumably, to get to some weapons they strapped onto their hips.

Simultaneously the defense system lowered the weapons emplaced into the ceiling of the room, O’Donnell raised an impressive hand cannon and the security bot gave a warning whine while it pointed an E-Laser at each of them.

The idiots now showed first signs of intelligence, by slowly lifting their hands up.

My head began to pulse with pain, and I massaged my temples, hoping to alleviate the oncoming curse.

“So you choose to not take the money with you. Now you have only to decide if you go at all and what you take with you if you go.”

That, of course, was the moment that Darren and Mark entered the mess and saw the mess. Quirk proved that while he lacked in planning capacity and basic intelligence, he was at least fast on the uptake.

“Hey, help us. This crazy bitch has totally madded up on us. Wants to kill us no reason.”

Mark’s hand fell onto his gun, but Darren gripped his arm shaking his head while speaking softly:

“Let’s listen first. Each story has at least two sides.” I knew I liked him. I forced a smile at him.

“Thank you.” Then I turned back to the two former, and as it seemed, future slaves.

“And congratulation, you’ve nearly thrown away option two already. If you stop making a fuss I let you keep your clothes. But” I let my voice become cold and menacing “this is your last chance to escape the collar or the coffin. Think hard and careful before you make your next decision.”

I waved Darren and Mark to sit down.

“Just to clarify the situation, these two nitwits were somewhat unhappy to have a, what did you call it? Right, a bitch as boss, especially a Pure bitch. So in all their cleverness, they had the excellent idea of taking over the operation here.”

I took a deep breath trying to force down the headache, still rubbing my temples.

“In their boundless benevolence, they declared that if I was a good girl they would allow me to use my equipment in my house in their service. After I explained the hurdles for their ingenious plan I made a counteroffer. You came in after the first phase of negotiation.”

Mark seemed a bit confused, but Darren nodded.

“Let me guess, they waived the option to simply go away peacefully?”

I nodded.

“Yes, and they are in the process of rejecting going away at all.”

Unfortunately, Mark had to give his opinion as well. “Why do they have to go at all? It is below freezing outside.”

That was too much at this moment, and I snapped back at him.

“Because regardless of the weather I don’t see a reason to share my house and my food with pricks that have proven beyond any doubt that I can’t trust them, and I see quite a few reasons to not share with backstabbing idiots who probably see it as a marvelous idea to kill me in my sleep.

If you want to do that, take your 2.5 million and search for a house where you can offer them a place.”

There was a shocked silence. I knew I had gone too far, but Mark was going under my skin.

I closed my eyes and slowly counted to ten in my head, trying to get my temper under control again.

Then I looked at Mark.

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have said that but honestly, my head is killing me thanks to these imbeciles, and if they had just accepted that their plan was a dud from the start they would leave here with 2.5 million bucks each and as much equipment as they could carry.

But they are too dumb to see a losing hand and kept going. While I try to do the right thing I simply can’t be seen as weak. At the same time, I’ve had it with jerks trying to take advantage of me.”

It took way too much out of me to speak calmly, but somehow I managed it. All the people in the room including the security bot began to develop halos and I knew that I would soon be visited by the curse of the high gammas.

I hastily ramped up my audial- and visual filters and the room began to dim. Of course, I knew that this was not enough but at this moment it was the best I could do. I almost missed the notification that my nanites began to record the onslaught.

Maybe, with quite a bit of luck, I would finally get data on what exactly caused this pain.

I looked again at Quirk and Riley.

“Now what is your decision?” Quirk’s face contorted to a sneer, but Riley was faster.

“We go, we go! You have won.” Quirk looked at him and then grimaced while nodding. “Yeah, what he said.”

At this time I was just thankful that the whole spectacle was over.

“Good decision. And because I try to be a nice person, I let you keep your weapons, if you keep your hands off them while in my house.

Mark, could I bother you to lead them out, please? The bot will keep them honest.”

I closed my eyes again and lowered my head onto my hand. I knew that I would get nothing done today. Then I felt somebody touching my shoulder, and I heard Darren talk.

“You don’t look good. Is there something you can do?”

I forced myself to look at him and immediately increased my visual filters again when the light send spikes of molten steel into my brain.

“Not much. I will return to bed in a few minutes.”

He looked at me inquiring before he asked softly.

“I assume a painkiller won’t do much?”

Despite the pain, I had to smile. “No, small fry like Aspirin is a drop in the bucket, and of the stronger stuff only Epzitecan works on Pures, and that stuff has too many side effects to use on headache.”

“There is something I could try. I can’t promise it will help, but maybe it will.”

I looked him in the eyes and saw only compassion and honesty. Not that I was especially good at reading people. I forced another smile.

“It can’t make it worse. Please, if anything can help, try it.”

He nodded and brought his palms to my temples. “Close your eyes, that will make it easier.”

I did so, slightly confused, and moments later a warm feeling radiated from his hands into my skull. At first, that was all, but then the pain began to retreat, faster and faster, from exploding skull to a dull roar, to a pulsing headache, and finally to what I considered normal.

Surprisingly it did not stop there, but a basic level of pain I did not even register any longer receded, and a tension I barely noticed all over my body left me. Even my hip and my arm stopped aching.

My eyes sprung open, and I saw Darren swaying, before he fell down back on his chair, visibly exhausted.

Fragmented thoughts run through my head, none of them clear enough to register, and I struggled for words. I couldn’t understand what had just happened.

Finally, I managed to get a few words out:

“What, what did you do?”

He smiled weakly.

“One of the psionic abilities I have is biokinetics. Basically, I can manipulate biological processes and structures. Encourage wounds to heal, take away the pain, let body parts or plants grow or shrink, even let hair grow, or remove it permanently.”

He wiped his brow and I now noticed the sheen of sweat on it.

“I have to confess I am not very good at it. But normally pain does not take so much out of me, though. What you had was… bad. No idea how you were even conscious. “

Meanwhile, I had somewhat regained my balance.

“I had no notion that Psionics could influence biological processes. I honestly assumed it was something like telekinesis and telepathy.”

I had already decided that I would look quite a bit deeper into Psionics. This subset of humanity was relatively unknown in the NWC. It was assumed that it was an accidental mutation coming from a freak combination of bio-weapons of the war.

That theory was supported by the fact that the overwhelming majority of Psionics came from either the Midwest of the old US of A or Central Europe, where the same bio-weapons were used.

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, depending on your perspective, one of the things the Nephilim virus did manage to do right was the upgraded immune system. Whatever combination of viri created the Psionics had no effect on our people, resulting in there not being any Pure Psionics.

That in turn lead to the NWC never researching psionic abilities beyond a ‘yes, they exist, but how, no idea’ level, and according to my, admittedly limited research no other nation had done so either.

Darren looked rather bad though, and I felt a bit of guilt seeing him so beat.

“Well, thank you from the depth of my heart. You have no idea what you have done for me. You don’t look so good though. Anything I can do for you?”

Again a weak smile played over his face.

“No, it’s all right. I have just overdone it a bit. Nothing coffee and a bit of rest won’t fix. But honestly, you should look into your headache. Part of it was just tension and stress, and it would help you to relax now and then.

Use the whirlpool, swim a few rounds, relax in the sauna, whatever. Just relax. The other thing… I have no clue what it was, but it was the worst pain I ever encountered.”

Now it was my turn to smile weakly.

“Oh, I know what it was, even if no one knows how exactly comes to pass. Do you remember that I talked about how the enhancements we Pures have bring with them some negatives? Well, that headache was what is called the gamma curse.”

He nodded at that, while the android placed a mug of coffee in front of him.

“And you don’t know what exactly does that?”

“Partially. We know that it is a runaway feedback loop of brain chemistry. We can even pinpoint exactly what neurotransmitters get out of whack. What we can’t do is explain what starts the loop and how it actually happens.

Every trial to recreate the loop failed so far. We simply can’t start the feedback mechanism even if we recreate the complete brain chemistry during the loop, it simply does not start the feedback.

We are equally unable to stop it, even if we more or less force the neurotransmitters to normalize, the loop still forms and unless the overriding medication is kept active it only delays the headache.”

I sighed.

“Well, hopefully, my implants recorded this attack, and I will be a bit wiser. It was my first encounter with the curse since I had the last upgrade.”

After his first few sips of coffee, he looked much better.

“Can’t you build some implant? You know, something that regulates the pain center?”

I had to laugh at that.

“That is in the theory a good idea, but sadly defeated by the fact that the pain center is a myth. There is no single region in the brain that experiences the pain.

Every sensory cortex can experience overstimulation, which expresses itself as pain.

Theoretically, it should be possible to reduce the number of undecapeptides and glutamates in the brain, which in turn should reduce the experienced pain, but as I already said, it does not work with the curse. Unless somebody finds whatever starts the feedback loop we Pures are simply out of luck.”

With a morose shrug, I finished off my coffee, and then shoved the wheelchair back.

“Well, you have no idea what you have done for me, but believe me, I owe you one. And I will try to follow your advice about relaxing. Swimming is out at the moment obviously, but… wait a minute, did you say we have a whirlpool?”

I immediately opened the building management and lo and behold, there were indeed not one but three whirlpools.

Two relative small ones in the top suites in the north wing, for six, or maybe eight people, depending on the body size of course, and a big one for twenty or even more people besides the sauna? Adjacent to the gym? How the hell did I miss the gym? Oh, of course, the whole area was somewhat run down. It was marked as a gym in the building plans but I automatically placed them as a junk room.

“Wow. You are wrong. There is not one Whirlpool, there are three. Have you looked at the big one? Is it usable?”

He chuckled a bit. “Three huh? Interesting. The big one is sadly trashed, but I think we can fix it relatively fast. Unlike the pool. That one is as far as I can tell wrecked. Needs to be rebuilt, if not replaced. The Gym is full of junk, and I have no idea what equipment is there, much less what is usable.”

Involuntary I shook my head. Such a nice building and these Idiots had left it to rot.

“I fear neither the gym nor the pool is a high priority just now. Depending on how bad the whirlpool is, you can bring it back to life if you think you can do it fast. “

He nodded at that.

“Otherwise I have tasked the bots to remove the trash. The priority here is the workshop beside the garage. I have bought an industrial fabber, and that is the best place for it.

By the way, if one of you wants to use it when it’s up and running be my guests. I will need it for a few projects, but I am sure we can come to an agreement.

Material you have to provide yourself though. Also, I bought 4 new fusactors and a new water purifier. These should come today or tomorrow.

More than enough to feed the new fabber. I marked where the two additional fusactors should be placed. The people who install them are already hired to remove the two potential bombs in our basement.

If they come I try to work with them myself, but that looks not very promising. Too much to do, not enough time.”

He frowned a bit.

“Another fabber? I thought the one we have is quite good.”

“Fabber is a catchall. It goes from simple 3D printers and material extruders up to small but universal industrial plants. What we have is a pretty good household fabber with a small chip builder and electronics maker and an older but rather decent autotailor with an excellent for its age fabrics extruder.

It can make clothes, small throw-away electronics like credleds, low-level coms, tablets, and so on, and smaller tools, as long as they don’t need to be too hard like knives. But for example, encrypted coms, serious computing hardware, weapons and so on are beyond it.”

I took the last of the coffee.

“What I now bought is a top-of-the-line industrial fabber. That means it has a molecular foundry to refine materials and create alloys, a complete and comprehensive electronics fabricator that with the right materials can build anything up to a supercomputer, a complete automated workshop to form the created materials into any desired form, and a few other goodies.

It can build, in small numbers, of course, practically everything and anything. Weapons, munitions, armor, vehicles, you name it, it can deliver it. Not as efficient as a full industrial plant specialized in the product, but for the small series or unique designs like tailored cyberware the very best option.”

Darren nodded at that.

“I understand. At least Mark will be happy.”

“Why that?”

“Mark is our go-to guy for weapons. He constantly badgers us for this new gimmick or that toy. Now he can make them himself.”

“If you think so. I have no idea about that so don’t ask me. Just make it clear to him that anything that can be as well bought mass-produced is usually equally good and a good way cheaper out there. I have work to do. See you later.”

With that parting shot, I ordered the android to wheel me out.