Cyberpunk: I'm Not a Scavenger - Chapter 13: The Sun and the Moon (Patreon)

Watson, Viktor's underground clinic.

Pushing open the familiar metal door, Pantheon felt some of the tension leave his body at the smell of disinfectant.

"Vik, sorry to bother you again!"

He called out cheerfully and dropped into the operating chair.

Lucy stood beside him, cool-faced and watchful, examining the man Pantheon had called the best ripperdoc in Night City.

The same old boxing match was still playing on Vik's screen. When he saw Pantheon limp through the door, he stood up in disbelief.

"What the hell have you done now, kid? You only left this morning! It's been half a day, and you're back in here like this?"

Vik complained, but he couldn't bear to leave Pantheon in that condition. He picked up his equipment and began examining him.

"How have you managed to overload those synthetic lungs already? What have you been doing?"

"And your neural load is through the roof! You've broken your shoulder blade too! What the hell do you think your body is made of?"

Vik was genuinely angry this time. Pantheon had rarely seen him look so severe.

"If you turn up like this again, don't bother coming back. This little clinic of mine isn't equipped to keep patching up someone who insists on destroying himself."

It was a mild threat by Night City standards, but Vik clearly meant it.

Pantheon gave him an embarrassed smile, pressed his palms together, and promised there wouldn't be a next time.

"Accident. Pure accident, I swear."

"Haah."

Vik took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Your injuries will take a while to treat. Let me look at the young lady first."

Their exchange made Lucy feel a little more comfortable with the middle-aged doctor. Most ripperdocs in Night City didn't care whether you stayed healthy. More injuries simply meant more business.

"Nothing too serious. Your netrunning interface is overloaded, and you've been pushing your brain's processing capacity too hard. I'll make some adjustments. Take it easy for the next two days and let it recover naturally."

Vik's voice softened as he continued. "I'll prescribe something too. It won't make your neurons heal any faster, but it should help with the discomfort."

Lucy nodded and stepped aside.

"Vik, you said you could arrange custom cyberware earlier. Were you serious?"

By then, Pantheon's surgery had begun. His shattered shoulder blade didn't require general anesthesia, and he was far too restless to keep his mouth shut.

Vik continued working without looking up.

"High-end custom models start at a hundred thousand eddies, and there's a waiting list. Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. I can't keep showing up here every day, can I? Don't worry about the money."

Vik gave him a searching look but didn't press the matter.

"All right. I'll get in touch with someone."

As he sat in the chair, Pantheon mentally totaled his assets and considered his next steps.

With his share of the latest job and the two implants he still hadn't sold, he had somewhere between three and four hundred thousand eddies altogether.

Surely a couple of custom implants couldn't swallow all of that.

He wasn't planning to install even more conventional cyberware. In fact, he was considering having the Shock Absorber in his hand removed.

Things had changed much faster than he'd expected. With his newest traits, his own flesh was already formidable, even without taking [Dead Eye] into account.

More electronic implants would give netrunners additional ways to attack him, without offering enough benefit to justify the risk.

The only reason he was keeping his Kiroshi Optics eye was how useful it was. As things stood, he had one natural eye and one cybernetic one.

What he really needed now was more firepower.

His Malorian hadn't been able to punch straight through his opponents' defenses in either of his last two fights. Both encounters had been closer than he liked.

After thinking it over, he decided to add a precision rifle to his arsenal.

Pantheon eventually fell silent, but Lucy's mind was anything but quiet.

She sat on a sofa in the corner of the clinic, a slim cigarette between her fingers. Smoke drifted upward in thin wisps, partly concealing her face.

She said nothing, only taking the occasional drag while her gaze repeatedly wandered toward Pantheon on the operating chair.

The job had paid far better than she could ever have imagined.

Combined with her savings, the money in her account was enough for a one-way ticket to the Moon.

The Moon. The place she'd dreamed of reaching for so long, the destination around which she'd built her life.

Yet now that her dream was within reach, she felt none of the joy she'd expected. Instead, an unfamiliar emptiness and uncertainty settled over her.

Her eyes rested on Pantheon's perpetually irreverent face. Even during surgery, he acted as though nothing in the world could trouble him.

She remembered the factory, the way he'd pulled her into his arms and put himself between her and an explosion that should have killed them both.

Was the Moon really where her journey had to end?

...

A few hours later, the operation was finished.

Pantheon climbed out of the chair and stretched with a satisfied groan.

"Ahh, thanks, Vik. Send me the bill, will you?"

After saying goodbye, he and Lucy walked upstairs through Misty's Esoterica.

The incense smelled reassuringly familiar. Misty was arranging crystals and ornaments behind the counter, and she smiled when she saw them.

"All finished? How are you feeling?"

"It's Vik. Of course I feel great," Pantheon said with a grin.

Misty's gaze moved between him and Lucy. As a fortune-teller, she noticed the subtle, complicated atmosphere between them at once.

"Since you're both here, why not draw a card?"

She brought out a beautiful deck of tarot cards and spread it across the counter.

"On the house. Think of it as a little celebration of your recovery."

Lucy instinctively wanted to decline, but Pantheon had already agreed with almost embarrassing enthusiasm.

After some hesitation, Lucy caught Misty's gentle expression and found herself sitting down too.

Well, they were already here.

"Anything I need to do?" Pantheon asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

He remembered that Misty's readings weren't the cheap tricks of an ordinary street fortune-teller. Her cards really could predict things.

How could he pass up the chance?

"Think of the question you want answered, then choose a card."

Pantheon followed his instincts and turned over one of the cards.

It depicted a naked child riding a white horse beneath a brilliant sun.

"[The Sun]!"

A flicker of surprise crossed Misty's face.

"Upright, the Sun represents abundant vitality and an unwavering will. You're like a tireless source of light, guiding others along the right path. Hold fast to what you believe in, keep moving forward, and you'll make a name for yourself throughout the world."

"So you're saying I'm a real ray of sunshine?" Pantheon asked smugly.

Lucy, meanwhile, appeared caught in a dilemma. She hesitated over the spread, unable to make up her mind.

Finally she closed her eyes and surrendered the choice to fate.

When she turned her card over, she saw a full moon in the night sky, two dogs staring upward, and a lobster emerging from a pool.

"[The Moon]. It represents uncertainty and anxiety buried in the subconscious, as well as beautiful dreams that may be forever out of reach. You're searching for a perfect place somewhere far away, hoping it will free you from the troubles of your present life."

Misty spoke gently, with a kind, almost maternal tenderness in her eyes.

Lucy's fingers trembled. She looked down, unable to meet Misty's gaze.

Lost and unsure what to do, she sent a message to the only friend she had in Night City.

[Will leaving Night City solve all my problems?]

On the other end, Kiwi was startled by the unexpected message.

Before she could answer, Lucy deleted it.

Kiwi lit a cigarette with characteristic calm. She seemed to have guessed what was troubling her friend.

[Follow your own feelings. Don't let anyone else tell you what to believe.]

Lucy repeated the words to herself, and something finally seemed to settle in her mind.

"Thank you, Misty."

She stood, her voice noticeably softer.

Her cold exterior had always been an unconscious defense. Beneath it, she still had a gentle heart.

They left the shop to find that night had fallen. Neon signs and holographic advertisements illuminated the streets.

The two walked side by side without speaking.

It was almost as though the first one to open their mouth would lose.

At a fork in the road, Lucy stopped and turned to him.

"I've already booked my ticket to the Moon," she announced, lifting her chin with an air of practiced indifference. "I leave tomorrow afternoon. I'm not coming back."

Pantheon kept his hands in his pockets and laughed inwardly.

Of course he could see how hard she was trying to appear calm. He knew perfectly well how conflicted she felt. He was only surprised she'd managed to hold out this long before saying anything.

"Oh, that's great. Congratulations on making your dream come true."

He deliberately played along, his voice utterly unchanged. "Send me a souvenir or two from the Moon, Miss Netrunner."

The complete lack of any attempt to stop her made Lucy's face darken instantly.

She bit her lip and clenched her teeth. Her chest rose and fell sharply as though she were genuinely furious.

"Fine. I'm leaving, then. We'll never see each other again."

She turned and marched away.

Pantheon burst out laughing, hurried after her, and caught her hand.

Out of his sight, a triumphant little smile flashed across Lucy's face. She immediately replaced it with a look of annoyance when she turned back.

Pantheon took a chip out of his pocket and placed it in her palm.

"Before you go, why don't you see if you can sell this? It's still worth another million or two."

He met her eyes and smiled. "Or you could just disappear with it and enjoy the life of a rich woman all by yourself."

Lucy closed her fingers tightly around the chip. At last her expression brightened, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"This time, I want fifty percent."

"Sure," Pantheon said without a care. "Worst case, I'll just spend your half."