Chapter 5: Bubbles
After adjusting to the Kiroshi implants, Vito followed Viktor's instructions and took two hits from a nerve suppressor inhaler.
"Thanks, Doctor Viktor. What do I owe you?"
Viktor waved it off.
"Don't call me Doctor Viktor, just Vik. The eyes were your own hardware, so seven hundred eddies covers it. I don't even know your name yet, son."
Vito pulled a wad of loose bills from his jacket and handed them over. "Vito. Vik, do you carry Trajectory Generator implants?"
Viktor smiled.
"Of course. This is Watson's Little China, Trajectory Generator is some of the hottest hardware around. You want one in right now?"
Vito pushed the rest of his cash across. "Right now. Is this enough?"
Viktor counted it and handed some back. "More than enough. A Trajectory Generator isn't exactly rare. Let's get started."
It wasn't a major procedure. Vito stayed conscious and watched Viktor work. Whether it was the Intelligence 20 doing its job or not, by the time the surgery was done Vito had a working understanding of both the installation and the operating logic just from watching and asking questions.
"All right Vito, draw your gun and take a look, but don't actually fire in here. This is everything I own, and I can't run a clinic out of rubble."
Vito drew his Unity and saw a round counter appear in the lower right of his vision. He ejected two rounds and watched the number change.
"You're a miracle worker, Vik."
Viktor watched him handle the gun like a new toy. "Just arrived in Night City? Your neural interface and data cable aside, you're completely clean and in excellent condition, that's not a Night City native."
"Got here yesterday," Vito said, holstering the gun and counting what he had left. "Vik, where does someone go to find work around here? The kind that pays by the gun."
Viktor settled into his chair and pulled up a fight on the screen. "Thinking about joining a gang?"
"No. Individual jobs, one contract at a time."
"Merc work," Viktor said slowly. "Try the Wild Wolf bar. They've got loose gigs that suit someone just starting out, and you could help the owner while you're at it, a woman named Mrs. Wells, she's good people. Once your rep's up, look for a fixer or reach out to Padre, he's the biggest name in Heywood."
Vito thought it over, thanked Viktor, and left the clinic.
Coming out the back he found a small kid sitting on the back alley steps blowing bubbles. Several drifters and people well past their last hit of something were sprawled across the alley floor.
Blowing bubbles wasn't something you saw much of anymore. Vito went over.
"Hey kid, this isn't a safe place to be sitting. Where are your folks?"
The child carefully blew a bubble onto a puddle of filthy water and watched it intently until it popped.
No response. Vito was about to walk on when the kid, once the bubble had burst, said: "My dad went out and didn't come back. Auntie Meda brought me here to find Misty, she's taking me for pizza after."
Vito stopped.
"Your dad's name is Fredo?"
"Yes."
Vito sat down next to the kid. "You like blowing bubbles?"
Little Fredo looked at him. "I like games. My favorite is stuff like Battle for Heywood."
"What kind of game is that?"
Little Fredo blew another cluster of bubbles onto the puddle and said: "You play a cop fighting for justice and taking down criminals. I love all that stuff."
Vito had no idea what to say next. The kid clearly had no idea what had happened to his father today.
After a long moment he landed on:
"Why aren't you playing now?"
Little Fredo kept his eyes on the puddle. "Dad used to buy me equipment but then he lost his job, so I sold it to Kante downstairs and gave Dad the money to buy pizza. Dad made me this bubble wand instead. He said that's how he played when he was little."
Vito felt like kicking himself for asking. He scrambled for a subject change.
"How come you keep staring at the bubbles?"
Little Fredo pointed at one floating on the water. "They look beautiful under all the signs. Kante told me the City Center is ten times more beautiful than this. I've never been, but I can look at the bubbles and imagine it."
Vito had nothing to follow that with. Something about those bubbles drifting under the neon was getting to him in a way he couldn't name. His Kiroshi implants zoomed in without him meaning them to.
The surgery had run long. Meda was still inside. Whatever Misty was doing in there, it clearly wasn't a quick fix.
"Come on kid, your aunt should be almost done. Pizza time soon."
Little Fredo didn't move.
"Auntie Meda said her talk with Misty is important and I'm not allowed inside to listen."
Vito went quiet. He needed a therapist. He dug the eddies out of his pocket and tucked them into Fredo's bag, then said:
"Little gift. When your aunt comes out, you're buying this time. One suggestion though, skip the fried noodles."
He stood and left. On his way out he quietly drew his gun on the drifters who'd been eyeing the kid.
"Eyes on the ground. You touch that kid or anything in that bag and I'll put rounds in every one of you."
He felt raw walking away. One full day in Night City and all he'd seen was the bottom grinding itself into nothing while the corps and scavs fed on what was left.
He needed to shake it off and he needed money, because aside from two SMGs and a pistol he had nothing.
Where to start?
Easy. Go find his old friend Janpeng. The little rat charged him five eddies to look in a mirror and then sent scavs after him.
Vito was going to take every eddie the man had, and then put bullets in him for good measure.
After Vito left, little Fredo blew the biggest bubble he'd ever managed. It drifted up slowly, hung in the air, then came down and settled onto the surface of the puddle in a perfect half-dome. The neon signs reflected in it were genuinely, completely beautiful. Maybe this was the ten times Kante was talking about.
Little Fredo reached out without thinking, drawn toward it.
The moment his finger touched it, the bubble was gone. Like it had never existed. Nothing in front of him but the puddle.
"Come on baby, time to eat. What kind of pizza do you want?"
Little Fredo jumped off the steps and ran to wrap his arms around Meda's legs.
"Auntie, it's my turn to pay this time. And let's pack some wontons for Dad to take home, his favorite."