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Chapter 23: Absolution

  Katsuo had cornered me on my way to school. He took me to the same place where he beat me up the last time. He was alone this time around, and seemed visibly more aggravated than usual.

  His words of malice washed over me like water and I couldn’t bring myself to hear any one word. Not over the… wrongness that permeated my entire torso, all the way up to my neck, that disgusting weight on my back.

  The Sandevistan never felt this wrong on me.

  “--and one more thing!”

  “What are we doing, Katsuo?” I asked him. He glared at me.

  “I’m putting you in your place, you—”

  “I’m seriously asking,” I interrupted. “What are we doing here? What do you want from me? Do you still want me to drop out? Why do still want that? I made an effort to fit in, didn’t I? I have the edds to pay my way. I have the clothes. I have the friends. What more do you want from me?”

  He sneered. “You think all of that can wash off that rot?”

  “I thought you said you were charitably inclined,” I said. “But it turns out you do just have a problem with me on account of where I came up. So I’ll ask again, what can I do to make things better? In a way, you took my mother from me, put her at needless risk when you put that virus in my homework. Was that not enough?”

  He growled. “Don’t put that on me, gutter rat. She died because of karma, because she was a fucking whore—”

  My fist stopped an inch before his face. He stumbled back and fell over on his ass. “It’s been since day one, Katsuo. You’ve harassed me since day one. You’ve fucked with me in ways I can’t ever forgive. And I asked you, nicely, what we could do to squash this shit. You’re gonna throw that back at my face?! Huh?” My right hand clawed at the left side of my hip, searching for a sword that wasn’t there.

  Katsuo got up on his feet. “Drop out. That’s what you can do. Drop the fuck out.”

  Destroy, my brain said. It was the only option of conflict resolution. Destroy. He wanted to destroy me as it was, and he had already taken everything from me.

  Mom’s face popped up in my vision, smiling sadly at me, and I turned around to see a line of the damned staring back at me accusatively.

  “Maybe I will,” I whispered. I turned around to leave.

  “Not so fucking fast, Martinez,” Katsuo roared. “You think you’re tough? Why don’t you taste the power of my Strongarms 400 again?”

  I sighed as I looked at him. He was smaller than me now. A couple of inches. He must have noticed. And I was broader than him, too.

  And he was so… slow.

  It was strange, looking at him bounce up and down with his arms raised in what felt like slow motion. He did a few experimental jabs in the air, slow as hell.

  I waited patiently for him to arrive. I hadn’t even touched my Sandevistan yet—couldn’t think of doing that with how it currently felt on me. Nanny had run a diagnostic, and it was nearly perfectly installed as it was. My mentality was the problem apparently.

  He punched towards me, stopping an inch away, doing the whole song and dance before the first fist was about to strike me. I bent my neck to get my head out of the way. Katsuo’s eyes widened. He stumbled forward, face on a collision course to my carefully positioned fist.

  He bopped his face on my fist and backed away. It was a soft blow, not nearly enough to actually harm him. I doubted a corpo exec’s kid didn’t have some intergumentary ‘ware to protect him. He tried for a slightly different punch, and I dodged that as well, and then another kind, just as slow as the last one.

  Then he tried to do the same punch again.

  Then the same second punch. And the same third punch. A slightly different fourth punch.

  I counted his punches and observed them. They were exactly the same, static, unbending forms that knew no deviation.

  Chipware.

  I just kept dodging, and he just kept throwing punches, until he started breathing too heavily to throw another one. He had been at it for almost ten minutes straight too, and I thanked my brutal cardio regimen that I could keep up with him for the entire time.

  “Are we done now, Katsuo?” I asked him patiently. Then I lost control over my body, doubled over with my hands on my knees as I threw up all over the floor.

  I didn’t stop for what felt like an entire minute, and my back was burning.

  “What is… that?” he asked, panting, having watched the entire episode with an amused sneer. “Kerenzikov? You chipped… in a fucking… Kerenzikov? Are you fucking crazy… Martinez?” he laughed. “You’ll go cyberpsycho in no-time. Look at you!”

  I rolled my eyes as I dried my mouth with my hand and spat out some vomit still in my mouth. “Sure. Whatever,” I replied hoarsely. “Class is about to begin.” I walked away from him. Then I heard some footsteps from behind. I took a smooth step to the side and let Katsuo punch empty air with all his might. The momentum sent him flying towards the ground where he fell on his face. He flipped over to raise his guard, back to the ground and looking at me with obvious fear. I snorted, and just walked away. “You look fucking stupid, Katsuo.”

  I received a call from Maine.

  Maine: Lucy said you quit. What the fuck is going on?

  David: I’ll explain. Just give me some fucking time. You got the data, didn’t you?

  Maine: You think that means you can just walk the fuck away-away?

  I hung up.

  Fuck him. What the fuck was his problem? I asked him for some fucking time and he wouldn’t even give me that much.

  My back jolted with agony, and I gave a grunt and had to stop to take a breath. Then I found that I couldn’t. I wheezed in a breath, trying my best to stay on my feet, and then fucking Maine called again. I accepted it.

  David: I didn’t ask you for time, Maine. I asked you for some fucking time. When I ask you for some fucking time, you give me some fucking time, you hear me?! GIVE ME SOME FUCKING TIME, GODDAMMIT

  And then I hung up again.

  I hobbled my way over to school, tears pooling in my eyes at the pain.

  000

  Maine stared at the air, gobsmacked by the call. He was in his livingroom, with Dorio, Kiwi and Lucy there as well, enjoying some shots.

  “What’d he say?” Kiwi asked.

  “He needs time,” Maine said. He snorted. Fucking kid, who did he think he was mouthing off to anyway? Maine wasn’t his fucking dad. Maybe he should start whipping him like one, then he would never think to disrespect him like that again.

  Lucy was smoking. “Just give the kid some time,” she said. “The data fortress is all there. That should easily run us two hundred or three hundred. And the Apogee data is there, too. What else do we even need from him?”

  “Explanations would be nice,” Kiwi said, looking at Lucy with narrowed eyes.

  Dorio’s head rested on both her hands as she just stared at the table. “So let me get this straight, not only is the kid an accomplished enough Netrunner to keep up with you two, he even managed to solo the opposition when both you and Lucy were tied up? Weren’t you just teaching him Netrunning a couple of weeks ago, Kiwi?”

  “Kid was already a programmer,” Kiwi said. “Damn good one, too. Never expected him to make anything out of the stuff I gave him. I just showed him a few quickhacks and gave him access to resources. Everything else was him. Ostensibly, he can use the Sandevistan’s superspeed to make killer programs in seconds, which is how he got up to speed so quickly, but that’s got its own implications. Kid’s a savant.”

  “And now he wants out?” Dorio asked. “Genius this, savant that, it doesn’t matter if he gets scared shitless after one or two NDEs. I don’t see why we can’t just let him go.”

  “Maybe he wants a stronger crew,” Kiwi mused. “Maybe he thinks he’s too good for us? Which, strictly speaking, he kind of is.”

  “Fuck that noise,” Maine said. “We’re the best there is.” Or they would be, once they got the Apogee. But even without it, they were one of the most prolific solo groups in Night City and they were doing jobs for Faraday, who was second only to Rogue in the fixer hierarchy. And they were that four-eyed freak’s favorite group, too.

  “I don’t think he’s scared,” Lucy said. Everyone was quiet as she took an inhale and blew out smoke rings. “Kid doesn’t strike me as the type. I think we should just wait for him to explain himself.”

  “Doesn’t explain his shitty attitude,” Maine growled. “Fucker almost bit my head off. The fuck’s wrong with him?”

  Dorio straightened her back. “Whatever. Let’s put a pin on that. D won’t run away without explaining himself, I doubt he’s that stupid. Let’s talk Apogee heist. We already know where it is. It’s with a Ripper affiliated with the Tyger Claws, under lock and key. They’ve got Tygers guarding it at all times as well. Since the goal is to get in and klep it unidentified, we’ll have to ninja this shit. Any suggestions, Kiwi, since this is your expertise?”

  “Yep,” Kiwi put her laptop on the table. And then she began detailing her plan.

  000

  I couldn’t concentrate throughout the day until classes ended, and by then, most of the pain had abated. I learned a trick for how to manage it, actually: just don’t move much. When class ended, I didn’t even want to think about going home. Couldn’t do that to myself right now. What was home anyway but a reminder of those ‘sorry’s?

  I needed answers. And I knew it was impossible to get them, but I needed them anyway.

  I took my bike to a CHOOH2 station, got it filled up and then plotted a course for Tijuana to see grandma.

  I gave her a call once I crossed the border.

  David: Grandma, can we talk?

  Abuela: Of course, honey. Come to this address.

  She sent me the location and I started driving towards it. From what I could tell, they had even gone as far as to move districts. Grandma moved fast.

  The place she was now based in seemed notably more middle class. As I drove, I received another call. From Lorenzo. Noticed my signal was in town, didn’t he? Shit. I’d have to up my call cybersecurity at some point.

  Lorenzo: Your handiwork was nothing short of impressive, D. And I assume that you could not deliver on the replacements you promised.

  D: Not really. Sorry.

  Lorenzo: If anything, can you at least explain why you did what you did?

  D: One of them called my hairstyle stupid. I don’t suffer such insults very lightly.

  Lorenzo: Do you take me for a fucking asshole, D? Speak with the same respect I’ve shown you.

  D: Fine. I did what I did due to reasons that I am not fully willing to disclose, but you can be safe in the assumption that there will not be a repeat from me. With the death of the Pinche Perros, you’ve bought protection from me. Congratulations. I expect this to be the end of our business, Lorenzo. We have nothing to give to each other.

  Lorenzo: Do you fancy yourself as some kind of hero, perhaps? Didn’t like how the Pinche Perros treated the locals?

  D: Sure. Yeah. I’m a superhero. And your dogs were barking too loud. Maybe don’t try to make a business off of the suffering of the little guy and I won’t rip the next guys to shreds. Thank you. And Lorenzo, if you try to fucking scan me again, I will clear out another one of your gangs no problem. Do not fuck with me.

  Lorenzo: The pinche perros were the lowest of the low, bottom-rung bastards with outdated cyberware and terrible Net security. You took them out because you are a slightly above-average player, but believe me, kid, we can raise the difficulty no problem. Do not fuck with us.

  D: So what does this call mean, anyway? Are you gunning for me now?

  Lorenzo: Your ghost act won’t last, my friend. This I promise you.

  D: I’m not trying to ghost, I’m genuinely asking. What do you want from me? Can’t raise the dead, can I?

  Lorenzo: How about a gig, free of charge?

  I grinned. Yeah, like I’d deal with no-name Fixers after what happened to me the last time. I didn’t give a fuck if Lorenzo wasn’t a no-name, I didn’t know him, and that was all that mattered.

  And besides, I had quit. For now.

  Lorenzo: Keep it in mind, boy. And trust me when I say this is the Tijuana Cartel at its maximum friendliness. You won’t get a better opportunity to clear the books with us. I’ll give you three days to decide. And then I’m taking off the kiddie gloves.

  He hung up.

  I felt a chill creep up my spine that combatted the eternal burning sensation it was giving out. Lorenzo had gotten just a little spookier. Let’s see how this plays out. He really thought I couldn’t keep up the ghost act indefinitely. He had no idea who the fuck he was dealing with.

  I pulled up to the address, finding the same exact facade of grandma’s last esoterica shop, La Casa Rubí De Los Espiritus. But the walls seemed shinier, the bricks newer and the signboard much fancier.

  I parked my bike outside, careful to hold a ping on it in case someone tried to klep it or something, and walked in.

  Grandma manned the front desk, and the inside was even more encumbered with all sorts of random crap. “Hi grandma,” I said.

  She smiled at me. “Is that your uniform? Do you mind flipping the open sign to closed, and lock the door behind you?” I followed her lead and did that, while she disappeared into the backroom. I followed after her and came up to an even nicer-looking house with a staircase leading upwards as well. Did she own this entire building?

  Grandma was chopping veggies in the kitchen and just leaned on the wall, watching her. “A hundred thousand goes a long way, it seems,” I said. “Where are the others?”

  “Out training or recovering,” she said. “We managed to fit everyone with respectable cyberware thanks to you. Guns, too.” My heart clenched at the sound of that. Guns. Right, yes. They were mercenaries. That was their thing.

  “What are you making?” I asked.

  “Why, your chili, of course!”

  I recalled the chili she used to make when I was a kid. The memory was sharper than before, much brighter. I remembered grandmas face so clearly, but it seemed… wrong. She didn’t look younger at all. Because the memories weren’t real, they were reconstructed by Nanny. I frowned. I didn’t want that at all.

  But… she tried. I couldn’t hold that against her.

  [I’m sorry, David] she then said, and I could feel… remorse from her. What the hell? [I thought this would make you happier.]

  David: Just… you shouldn’t have messed with my memories. But it’s fine.

  [Your recall from now on will be perfect, though. Do you not want that?]

  David: That’s… that’s different. These memories are real.

  I hadn’t even remembered to test that out, but it was true. I remembered pretty much everything, even the most innocuous, useless memory. My memories felt like an infinitely long corridor. It was so… weird. But it wasn’t bad. Not for now at least.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Thank you,” I said with a smile. “Uh, so… this whole spiritual stuff. Do you actually believe in it?”

  “I wouldn’t be making a living off of it if I didn’t,” she said. “Or, since it really just works double-duty as a front, I would have at least picked another type of front if I didn’t care for it. Why?”

  I took a deep breath. “Grandma, I’m… I saw mom.”

  She stopped chopping, and turned around to look at me. “What happened?”

  “I almost died. And then I saw her. On the steps to heaven, I saw her apologize to me, tell me that it’s her fault that I’m damned. And when I turned around, I saw hell, and all the people I had killed staring back at me. It’s just… even if it was some hallucination, I don’t think mom would have said anything different. She would have been disappointed in me. Right?”

  Grandma sighed. “The dead do not speak to us for this very reason. Their judgment is the heaviest thing of all. For your mom to do that when you were not ready…”

  “The thing is, I was. I was dead. Truly. And then I wasn’t. My situation is… complicated, grandma, but it involves this experimental technology.”

  Grandma winced. “I had… heard about what happened to you as a child. Those damned Italians. If only I had the power, I would pry them out from the earth root and stem for what they did to you.”

  I shrugged. “It’s… yeah. I’m damned either way. And my life brought nothing but pain to mom. What do I even do?”

  “Did your mom try to take credit for your actions?” she asked. “Did she ignore that everything you achieved was on your own merit, that you were the captain of your own fate? Did she infantilize you and assume you to be a puppet of hers? Or, David, is it you that think it is her fault that you did all that you did?”

  I clenched my fists. “I never would have… I wouldn’t have gone so far—”

  “Is that really what you believe?”

  I couldn’t say anythign to that. Grandma just continued. “Your mother is your mother. She will blame herself for everything you have done, and she will be wrong for it. This is just the nature of mothers. Your greatest mistake will be to blame her, because then you fail to take responsibility for your own actions.”

  “I quit being a mercenary,” I said. “I can’t keep disappointing mom.”

  She nodded. “That is one way to take responsibility, and if that is your path, I won’t begrudge it. Do whatever it takes to lighten the burden of your soul, but if that burden stems solely from your mother, then I must advise you to live for yourself. You cannot adopt the dreams of others. You cannot be the expectations of your parents. You must be you, because that is the only person you can be.”

  “I don’t know who I am, grandma,” I sobbed. Tears ran down my face, and my back started to ache fiercely. “I don’t know anything! I’m alone, dammit! There’s no one at home anymore. No one to tell me—”

  “No one can tell you who you are. You must find that out on your own.”

  I looked down at the ground, teeth bared as I sobbed. “How?”

  “You believe in things. Find out what they are. Throw away all else.”

  A mission. I raised my head and dried my face on my sleeve. I had to figure out what I believed in. Fine.

  Maybe I could turn to God then.

  The thought made me snort, but it was as good a plan as any. “Thank you, grandma. Anyway, there should be more money in the company account now. Feel free to use it however you want, okay?”

  “That money belongs to you and you alone,” she said. “We will not touch what we haven’t earned.”

  I took a deep breath and then just said. “Okay. Anything the girls might need? Quickhacks or programs? Keep me informed about any of your needs. Even if I’m no longer a mercenary, I will still try to support you guys in any way that I can. How is the upcoming interview with Militech coming along?”

  Grandma looked at me with concern for several seconds, likely debating on whether or not to keep pushing with my mental state. Thankfully, she replied with business. “Without a portfolio of achievments, we’re just going off of the number of our weapons and personnel. Having Netrunners gives us an edge, but in the end, we’re still nothing.”

  “The money is yours,” I said. “Buy whatever you need with it. I really don’t care about it.”

  She hummed. “You’ve done well for yourself, boy. Gloria would never dream of having this much money.” the reminder of mom made me wince. “She may not have approved of your methods, but she would have been beyond elated at your affluence. Do not forget that.”

  I nodded. “Take that money, grandma. I mean it. And I’ll come back with some quickhacks and help set up a comms line, okay?”

  “Alright,” she said in a tone of defeat. “Since you’re insisting so much. Stay for food. Have you eaten? I know you probably need lots of food.”

  I smiled. “That would be nice. In the meanwhile, why don’t you tell me about my family?”

  000

  The food was just how I remembered it, and it was the best thing I had put in my mouth in a long, long time. Throughout the whole cooking and eating process, grandma told me about my still-living uncles, aunts and cousins, and it was a lot to take in at first, but my memory was sharp enough to recall them all quite easily. My family was filled with all sorts of accomplished combatants, mostly boxers and sharpshooters, and the girls were all given roles of either Netrunners or financial managers. During our heyday, every family member except for the children had pulled their weight and made sure that the Martinezes remained a relevant name in the area, and were loved by the people as the patriarch Ricardo Martinez never oppressed the poor. We had been hometown heroes until that Gonzalez motherfucker had ruined everything, having received Cartel backing as well because the Martinez family’s goody two shoes routine wasn’t pulling in enough money for them.

  According to grandma, those days were long behind us now. We weren’t going to be involved in any community now, and all the money we received would go to us and no one else. This wasn’t a world that rewarded charity, only ruthlessness, and Ricardo’s charity had made him vulnerable.

  Grandma saw me off outside her store. “Make sure to pop by to ask Tio Alex and Gabriel for pointers on boxing, okay?”

  I nodded with a smile. “Fine, though I don’t really see the point. Until next time, granny.”

  “See you soon!”

  I drove off. A gang of masked people popped out from around a corner with guns and I just sped up, instantly hitting almost two-hundred kilometers an hour before taking a swinging turn and leaving them behind.

  I called grandma, ignoring the burning sensation in my spine.

  David: Are you alright? Are they coming back for you?

  Abuela: Just some neighborhood punks waving around some unloaded and broken guns, don’t mind them. Just drive safely, you’re going too fast!

  I chuckled.

  David: Sure grandma.

  I sped up.

  000

  I arrived at night city in just twenty minutes, though that was more on account of traffic than anything else. Once I did, I didn’t head straight home, instead going towards the nearest Catholic church to my house, some place in Heywood.

  We were supposed to be Catholic, but it was mom that actually cared more about the stuff than I did. She always wanted me to wear a fake gold rosary everywhere I went, even if people bullied me for it. I was under the personal belief that if God existed, then he was just a huge fucking dick. The Net called us edgetheists. Now that title was even more deserved.

  I pulled up in front of the church and walked in confidently. On the far end of the church behind a podium stood a balding, elderly latino man reading a bible. There was nobody in the church, however. Just me and him. He looked up from the bible with an impassive expression. “Come to pray?”

  “Confess my sins, I guess,” I said. “I don’t really understand how this works. Aren’t you supposed to make god forgive me or something?”

  He walked around the podium and approached me. “I can’t make God do anything. Only your repentance can. I can help guide you, but most of the effort will be on you.”

  “Tell me where to start, padre,” I said. He gave a warm smile.

  “Sit down, son,” he said, gesturing at the pews. I walked up and took a seat at the frontmost pews. “Remember your sins, son. Take a moment to reflect on them.”

  Okay. I killed people. Lots of people. One-hundred and eighty-three to be exact. Uh, what else? Adultery? Fei-Fei wasn’t married, though. Did that still count? I don’t know.

  “Now what?” I asked. “Are we gonna do a confessional, too?”

  “That’s up to you,” he said. “I will assure you that I am sworn to secrecy on anything you admit to me on the pain of excommunication.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Excommunication? What is that?”

  “It means I’ll get kicked out of the Catholic church,” he said.

  “Does the church have a megacorp sponsoring it or something?” I asked. I couldn’t believe that there was any other way for them to have that kind of power, especially in Night City.

  “Precisely,” he said with a warm smile. “The Incorporato Il Vaticano, of which the pope is the CEO, would not hesitate to send mercenaries to dispose of me if they found out that a priest excommunicated because they broke the seal of confession still tried to pass themselves off as a Catholic priest, and I’m not exactly operating a hidden establishment here.”

  Wow. Using my Kiroshis, I made a quick search on the net to confirm this tidbit and came back with evidence confirming the old man’s words. The Catholic church sure didn’t fuck around.

  Fine. Whatever. I followed him over to the confessional booth and did a ping for any wiretaps, but came back empty on all counts. The entire place didn’t have anything electronic but lights and an airconditioning system.

  And weapons in the back of the church. Lots of weapons. What the fuck? Eh, whatever. This is Night City.

  Once I was inside the booth, I could only see a dark mesh that concealed the priest, though from my Ping, I still knew where he was. “Begin,” he said. “By saying ‘in the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit.”

  “In the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit.”

  “Bless me father for I have sinned.”

  “Bless me father, for I have sinned.”

  “State how long it was since your last confession.”

  “It has been,” I thought for a moment. Mom never had the time to take us to church. I think the last time we even went, it wasn’t even I who had the confession, but her. And I must have been ten, maybe eleven. Come to think of it, it was after Biotechnica pulled their little stunt. She must have felt so guilty to actually come all the way here. “I’ve never confessed before. Is that fine?”

  “There’s a first time for everything, my child,” the priest said. “Now tell me, what is your state of life? Where are you currently?”

  “I’m in my last year of school… I’ve just quit my… job, I guess. Couldn’t handle it. It’s why I’m here, actually.”

  “Now here comes the hard part. What have you done wrong? Tell me about your sins.”

  “I killed a hundred and eighty-three people, had sex repeatedly with a woman that’s engaged to another man—I did that one on purpose, by the way, specifically to spite the man—and… yeah. I’m damned for hell. I saw it with my own eyes, actually, though that could have been a hallucination. I don’t know. I never gave thought to the people I killed much. Mostly, I just kept count because I was scared of cyberpsychosis, thought maybe if I counted, I wouldn’t be so eager to take another life. Then in a flight of revenge, that number shot up a crazy amount and…” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m a disappointment. I’m fucking ev—sorry, I mean, I’m evil, I guess.”

  The priest didn’t say anything for several seconds. “You haven’t made any excuses. That is good. Do you want advice?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Do not fixate on individual deaths. Fixate on the reasons behind them. Revenge is a sin, and it is even worse than killing for money, as I assumed you had done before. That was your true sin. How do you feel about those revenge killings as opposed to the contract killings?”

  “Better,” I said without hesitation. “The money just muddied things. When I killed those people, it was almost… fun.” That was… actually closer to the heart of the matter than I imagined. My reasons for killing the cartel gang were poor. It was revenge, plain and simple, and it didn’t make the world a better place for more than the time it would take to have them replaced with another gang, maybe even more cruel. Mom would understand the edgerunning, but what I did that night was nothing short of monstrous.

  But even then, it wasn’t… it wasn’t what bothered me truly.

  “Are you penitent, my boy?”

  “Yes,” I said. It sounded hollow to me. But I had to be penitent. Otherwise, why was I even here? What the hell was I even doing?

  “Beseech God for forgiveness now. You must say an Act of Contrition: O’ my God, because you are so good, I am very sorry that I have sinned against you; and I promise that with the help of your grace, I will not sin again, Amen.”

  “O’ my God, because you are so good, I am very sorry that I have sinned against you; and I promise that with the help of your grace, I will not sin again, Amen.”

  “May our Lord and God, Jesus Christ, through the grace and mercies of his love for humankind, forgive you all your transgressions. And I, an unworthy priest, by his power given me, forgive and absolve you from all your sins, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

  “Amen,” I said. And I saw my mom’s face in my mind’s eye, smiling sadly at me, crying, saying sorry over and over again. “I forgive you,” I whispered. “I… forgive you.” Mom’s sad smile widened, and if I could, I would have hugged her.

  I couldn’t hold my actions against her. I had to forgive her, and apologize for blaming her in the first place.

  But that didn’t lighten my burden one bit.

  “We are done now. You are forgiven now.”

  “Thanks,” I said, feeling profoundly empty, yet still mired in a sea of agony, both physical and mental.

  “Anything else you might need? Were you baptized?”

  “Yeah, probably,” I said. “Uhm, thank you for the whole… confessional.”

  “It is my calling, son. Do not thank me. I just hope to see you on Sunday.”

  “Okay,” I said as I walked out of the booth, and then out from the church. Right before I left, the priest called to me.

  “Always remember,” he said and I turned around to see him give me a warm smile. “God will always be with you.”

  I continued out, feeling even heavier than before.

  Rebecca’s advice sounded in my mind. Go for a long drive to clear my head. I rode away around town, careful to be under the speed limit so I wouldn’t get cops after me, and continued west towards the desert.

  I didn’t stop even after running out of road, just driving on the sand, dodging cacti and outcroppings with ease as I just continued on and on.

  The day was darkening into night when I stopped at a hill, feeling all of my stress come to a crescendo.

  I got off my bike and started screaming. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?!” I shouted at the heavens. “I did it, didn’t I?! I fucking survived! I did what I had to do, for fuck’s sake!” The Sandevistan’s constant heat in my back was starting to become unbearably painful. I growled, falling on my knees. Everything hurt.

  What the fuck was I supposed to do? Why did I have to feel guilty?

  “That’s the thing, boy,” the voice of an effemminate male sounded from behind me. I turned around and came face to face with a corporate suit with impeccably slicked, short dark hair, and hawkish features that seemed positively devilish. “You’re not guilty.”

  “Who the fuck are you?” I roared at him as I got up, trying my best to ignore the agony.

  [David, this man isn’t real!]

  I stared at him in shock. He just shrugged. “She’s right. Or is she? Then again, machines never quite learned to understand this part of humanity. To her, I’m just a bunch of neurons firing.”

  [He is a manifestation, an alternate identity caused due to an improper repair of your fragmented psyche. A dissociative identity, just like your mother was. He’s not real.]

  “Or a fragment of your psyche, I suppose,” he said. “Bla bla bla,” he winked out of existence. “Bla,” I heard from behind me, quickly turned around and backed up. The man was now a woman, a cyberpunk with a shock of black hair only in the middle of her scalp, a chrome arm holding a huge handgun, and a tanktop and leather pants combo.

  If this was an identity, a person, then that meant it could be reasoned with. “What do you want?”

  “Hmm, I’m just here to clear things up for you,” she said as she spun the gun by the trigger guard. “Did you forget that chat you had with Maine, my little cyberpsycho?”

  The time I told him I didn’t care about the people I killed. “But I am guilty,” I said. “Because of how mom—”

  “Don’t even go there,” she said. “Your mom is dead. And if you plan to live a long life, you best put a pin on her and forget about her until your dying moments. Sounds harsh, maybe, but there’s no better way to live as you are.”

  [I am working to heal the damage to your brain, David.]

  “Fuck that,” I growled. “I can’t be like this… I don’t… I can’t—”

  “Can’t you hear how hollow this sounds, even to you?” she asked with a tilted head and a malicious sneer. “Momma’s boy couldn’t meet her infinite expectations and now you’re breaking down because of it? Your mother has haunted you like a specter ever since her death, and you only started noticing it after the Brainwipe. What you need isn’t a change in lifestyle. It’s an exorcism. And I know a thing or two about wayward spirits. While you prayed to God for forgiveness, I was the one that pried her away from your mind, you know, free of charge, but the damage remains. That’s what I’m here to do, tend to my favorite little cyberpsycho in the whole world!” she spread her arms widely. “You’ll go on to do great things, my boy! Look at that!” she pointed at the direction of Night City, but I could tell she was probably pointing specifically at the giant tower that was Arasaka. “This is the dream that you appropriated, right? What if I told you that it all comes back to it?”

  I turned back to her, and it was now a him. Specifically, a seven-foot-tall, red-skinned man in a corp suit, and giant red goat horns. My mouth dried as I took in its visage, viscerally terrifying in every way. I could barely breathe. “Your dream is your ends, and your ends are what justify your means. And your means are giving you a hard time. You want to know why, my son?” the devil walked towards me and put both hands on my shoulders like a proud father. “Because the ends aren’t justifying them. It’s as simple as that.”

  I blinked, and the devil was replaced with my grandfather, Ricardo Martinez. He was like the pictures grandma showed me, just as young. A dark tan, a short crew cut, and intense eyes with a friendly glint to them. He was just as short as I was before all the biomods too, and looked a little like me as well. And his smile was something I trusted implicitly. “I want Arasaka Tower,” I said to him. “There isn’t an end greater.”

  He snorted. “No. There is. There absolutely is, nieto. And if the weight of your actions are what cause you to buckle, it is because the reward is not enticing enough. You don’t want the goal enough, but that, my nieto, is not because you are lacking in want.” he patted my stomach. “There is hunger in you, I know this. And that hunger craves more than the paltry little meal that tower can offer.”

  “You’re not my grandfather,” I whispered.

  He smiled. “Your grandfather is one of my favorites. A man that knew what he wanted and how to seize it. He got a little, eh, soft near the end, but what can you do. He put enough people in the dirt to deserve a little break.”

  [I am almost done.]

  David: Don’t… hold on for a second. I need to finish this conversation.

  [This person is not real!]

  “Bah,” the devil said, now in the form of Saburo Arasaka. Somehow, this form felt even more oppressive to me than the sight of the devil himself. He looked into the air to address Nanny. “This will benefit you as well, machine, so hold off on banishing me for the time being, will you?”

  “So you want me to want more?” I asked.

  “I want you to stop hurting,” he said. “And I want you to usher in the new era that only you have the potential to achieve. Remember what your grandmother said? Identify what you believe in if you wish to find yourself. My boy, I could tell you right now what you truly believe in, but I won’t go that far. You have to say it. Right now. What do you believe in? Is it a person? A vision? Don’t think. Just speak.”

  I closed my eyes and said the first thing that came to mind. It was a dirty, nigh-evil thing, but in the end, it was the truth. “Myself,” I said. “I believe in myself.”

  The Sandevistan immediately stopped hurting. It felt like I could finally breathe again. I took a full breath and sighed in relief.

  Myself. I believe in myself. I am enough. Not just enough. I’m fucking great. I am superior. There is a quality to me that doesn’t exist in others, and it lets me rise above others. And it isn’t Nanny, either, or my affinity for Cyberware. It’s so much more than that. One could say that my affinity for cyberware was likely precisely because of how much confidence I had in myself. After all, the Sandy had finally stopped hurting.

  All of the things that make me greater are parts of me, is me. No use separating those components from myself. All of it was me.

  The devil took a step away from me with a proud smile. “It’s true. It’s you. You are the person that will change this world forever.”

  I frowned. “And what’s in it for you? If you’re the one encouraging me, I can’t imagine that my purpose isn’t terrible.”

  “I’m not an agent of suffering,” he said with a laugh. “No, that’s the other guy. I’m all for heaven on earth. And I hate wasted potential. But your purpose is yours, David, and so are your actions. Don’t you remember? You believe in yourself. Not even I can hijack your fate. And besides, you’re coming my way in the end, you know this. I don’t have to work hard to ensure that when it is already a sure fact, so you might as well make your time here count. Or better yet, outrun the clock forever. Now wouldn’t that be a goal to aspire to?”

  I nodded. I got it now.

  This was all I needed to hear: I’m damned to hell anyway, so why backtrack? Why not go all the way and come out the other end? Or at least try to see what lies beyond?

  “Thank you,” I said. “I believe this is all you can give me. Nanny. Finish it off.”

  The devil gave a polite nod of his head. “Thank you for hearing me out. And my tower?” he, as Saburo, gestured towards Night City one last time. “Let it be a modest taste of all that you can consume. And remember, no matter where you falter, I will always love you.”

  A chill crept up my spine at that.

  The devil disappeared.

  [I have finished healing your fragmented personality. You should not see it anymore. And David… I apologize for not knowing what is best for your emotions. It is a difficult domain to understand for me. I did not mean to upset you—]

  David: Don’t worry. We’ll take it one step at a time. And Nanny… thank you for saving my life.

  I heard the distant rumble of engines rapidly close by. I turned towards the sound, my eyes automatically adjusting to the low-light conditions to find a fleet of ten cars making a beeline towards me. I ran up to my bike and got on it, trying to get it started for several seconds, far longer than usual. I looked down at the disobedient machine and gave it a scan.

  The ignition program was malfunctioning. Fuck. I made a mental note to airgap my bike’s systems—thanks a lot, Net-Of-Things—and faced down the oncoming cars.

  This would probably get ugly.

  [QianT “Dragon Spine” Sandevistan Integration completed!]

  For them.

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