Gordon showed Sasha the Volgurz XC-IV projector so she could entertain herself playing for a while, while he and Galina moved on to more serious matters—like what could be a new source of inspiration for one, and a good business opportunity for the other.
"Holy macaroni and cheese!" Gordon lifted the lab goggles he was wearing while analyzing the carrots in the restaurant's kitchen lab. Holding a test tube with a small sample of one of the carrots his old friend had brought, he exclaimed, "They're perfect!"
Why wouldn't his restaurant kitchen have a lab?
"So they really aren't lab-grown?" Galina still struggled to believe carrots that looked so flawless could be completely natural.
"I stake my reputation on it! There's not a single trace of chemicals or genetic modification. They're totally natural. At most, they're the result of lots of crossbreeding over the years," Gordon declared, openly eyeing the wooden crate filled to the brim with barely contained greed. "Can you introduce me to your supplier?"
"Uh… that might be a bit difficult," Galina said, and proceeded to give him a rough summary of the situation.
"Let me get this straight," Gordon ran a hand down his face, "A hooded kid, about your daughter's age, somehow (you have no idea how) sneaks into your home through the window, knows about your condition (even before you understood the cause), and heals you (seemingly through magic), in exchange for you helping him earn money by selling organic produce discreetly, without attracting attention or asking about the source, and even giving you a 'fair cut'. Did I miss anything?" He looked at her as if expecting her to say she was joking.
"It does sound crazy when you put it like that."
"Well, I'm glad we're on the same page about how insane this is," Gordon sighed and popped the carrot sample into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "But if this craziness is real, I'm not missing out!"
"So...?"
"Yes! A thousand times yes!" Gordon was already cradling the crate like a baby at some point during the conversation. "I'll buy everything. In fact, since I owe that mysterious kid for saving a friend, I'll even raise the price by twenty percent!" He raised two fingers, looking resolute. "Just give me priority to buy, okay?"
If he could get ingredients of this quality, his culinary level would skyrocket!
But with such limited supply for now...
Yeah, it was best to save it for trying out dishes in private.
Galina caught her breath.
That twenty percent was already more than her monthly salary at work!
"Deal," Galina accepted the money transfer and quickly calculated her share, just as she had agreed with the mysterious boy. He'd shown enough goodwill that it didn't feel right to stab him in the back now.
She couldn't stop her lips from curling into a smile. This money would help her a lot in the short term—and it had been so easy to get.
The kid probably had no idea she knew Gordon.
A regular person would've had real trouble selling something like this without getting robbed, especially while hiding the source and lacking certifications.
"When you see him again, could you ask him a few things for me?" Gordon quickly stored the carrots in his best food-grade container. "I'm curious how much he can do, if he has more ingredients, or what his harvest frequency is. Tell him that as long as it's this quality—heck, even half of it—I'll take it all... as long as you keep acting as the go-between, of course."
With Galina bringing him a pleasant surprise like this, how could Gordon let her take a loss?
After learning what her life was like now as a single mother, he definitely preferred her spending more time with her daughter while earning more money as a middlewoman with less working hours. If it weren't for Galina's pride and character, he might've even offered her a job at the restaurant on the spot.
Though he had no doubt that within two days, she'd be at someone's throat for bad manners…
"I'll see what I can do," Galina sighed with her arms crossed. "That strange kid and whoever's helping him… don't seem to be in a good situation." She couldn't forget how anxious he was about the time during their conversation. "For now, I have to wait and see how he wants me to send the money."
"Mmm…" Gordon frowned in thought. "From what you've told me, their caution and this 'mystery veil' they keep up are their best defenses right now—especially in the worst parts of Night City. Not many kids in their position try to take this kind of alternate route…"
Galina nodded.
In fact, most street kids never got past being errand runners, unless they proved themselves through some unexpected twist or saved enough for an upgrade and were generously promoted to cannon fodder.
That same night, elsewhere in the city...
As Kiwi and Faelan were getting ready for bed, Kiwi turned to look at her friend.
"We should've left a way to communicate," she yawned behind a raised hand. Tonight, she needed proper sleep and wasn't using the helmet for the first time in weeks. "We have no idea how long it'll take her to sell all that."
They didn't even need to risk using mail. They could've told her to walk past a certain place at a specific time, as a signal for Kiwi to check the area's cameras and send the next message to arrange the payment pickup.
"Yeah, I guess we overlooked that," Faelan wasn't too stressed about it. "Send her a message in three days to check on the situation. But look on the bright side—our idea actually worked!"
Instead of sneaking out of the factory every time to make deals, Faelan had studied the blueprints Kiwi gave him and dug a small underground tunnel using roots, just wide enough to send the crate through.
Basically, he built a plant-based pneumatic tube.
It not only let him send things away quickly without being seen, but he didn't even have to leave the factory. He could pretend he was hiding somewhere to sleep while actually growing and packaging produce.
Plus, it could work in reverse to receive things too.
"Too bad I'm still so limited in what I can do," Faelan thought as he lay down. "And I can't overdo the quantity until we move—too risky."
Carrots or strawberries could go unnoticed thanks to their small size during the growth process, but he couldn't grow things like apples—he'd need to grow an entire tree to maturity first.
A fruit tree spontaneously growing in the middle of the factory?
That would draw attention.
So he'd always stuck to small stuff—not just to avoid attracting attention, but because it cost him less energy overall. Plus, his appetite wasn't huge, and making food for two was easy.
"Yeah, it definitely wasn't creepy at all seeing a bunch of plant tentacles swallow a crate," Kiwi rolled her eyes as she settled in for sleep. "Anyway, we'll use the same spot to collect payment. Also, I managed to recycle some components this afternoon and made a copy of the secure chip from the Pip-Boy. Tomorrow, you're helping me finish it since your hands are steadier than mine. We'll use that new chip to store the money, while the Pip-Boy keeps only the usual stuff."
Putting everything in one place was too risky.
"I'll take care of hiding the backup chip. Don't worry."
"Just make sure it's somewhere relatively clean," Kiwi closed her eyes and was soon asleep, her breathing calm and steady.
Faelan had more trouble sleeping. He kept thinking about things like how much Galina would get for the carrots, whether she'd manage to sell them, and if something might go wrong.
The next morning, they skipped breakfast to quickly assemble the chip that would act as their secret vault. Once it was inserted into the Pip-Boy and confirmed to work, Faelan buried it underground inside a wooden clamshell to protect it from dirt and dust.
Three days later, Kiwi sent Galina another message—and Faelan got an unexpected visitor.
"Doctor Famir? What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised, since medical personnel rarely left their work areas for hygiene reasons.
"I came to check on how you're feeling or if you've had any other issues recently," said the man, clean-shaven with short curly hair, keeping his hands in his lab coat pockets. "You've never been sick until now, so when I heard about the bathroom incident, I went back over your records."
"I think my stomach just finally gave up on the nutritious meals we get," Faelan didn't want to turn his excuse into something big and possibly investigated. "Honestly, the weird part is that it didn't happen sooner."
Famir nodded in total understanding—it was the same conclusion he had reached.
"Well, you look a lot healthier," Famir was more relaxed seeing Faelan acting like usual. "As for the food, I'll try speaking to the higher-ups. Again." His tone was weary from dealing with the same issue repeatedly as he turned and walked away. "I told them growing kids need at least grade B bars, but they insist grade F is enough. That stuff isn't even better than old animal feed. Who's the doctor here...?"
Faelan watched the doctor leave, cursing his superiors' stinginess under his breath.
"Kondraki might be getting impatient." He didn't exactly suspect Famir himself, but he did suspect he might have been sent to gauge his health on his boss's behalf. "I thought our countdown was the foreman and we had a few years to spare, but it seems the 'good doctor' is eager to get me on a dissection table. I need to think of a way to get Kiwi and me out of here as soon as possible."
The only reason Kondraki hadn't just done it already?
Because it was a bad idea—an outright terrible one.
Their "coworkers" didn't have it easy, but they did have certain incentives that kept them working, like the "scholarship" both he and Kiwi had originally aimed for. If Kondraki made the mistake of making them feel like they'd gone from dispensable but redeemable workers to straight-up lab rats, the reaction would be… explosive.
And from what Faelan knew of their "elders," that was part of the reason the factory had adjusted many internal policies in the past.
Too many losses for too little gain.
When their shift ended, Faelan himself took the initiative to find Kiwi and pull her aside.
"Could Kondraki be planning something?" Kiwi listened to his conclusion and added her own opinion. "Since he can't take you until you get sick a couple more times, maybe he's thinking of speeding up those remaining marks."
"You mean he might make me sick on purpose?" Faelan raised his eyebrows—and realized it was perfectly plausible for scum like him. "But how? The calorie bars are distributed randomly (and we don't eat them), and the rest of the facilities are shared by the staff. The only place he could ensure it'd affect me would be… oh."
Their "home" in the container stack.
Great. Now his caution—no, paranoia—would keep him from sleeping.
And these were all just suspicions and guesses. He could be overthinking everything for nothing!
"You didn't happen to get lucky and find something related to that, did you?" Faelan asked, hoping for at least some good news.
Finding the main server would really help right about now.
"In a way. Come with me." Kiwi narrowed her eyes, scanning the area to make sure no one was following them before leading him to the heavy machinery section of the factory—a work zone with almost no human presence.
The noise was loud enough that no one could hear or record them.
"See that thick cable in the far-right corner? I heard one of the techs— the one who lost his thumb last week—say that it's one of only three physical connections to the main server, since this section has to run 24/7. Think you could use the roots to trace the path and…?"
The idea was simple: follow the breadcrumb trail and find the target.
Faelan inspected the thick cable carefully.
"No, the roots don't have enough room to slip through, and the voltage running through there would fry them—probably trigger some alarm too. But…" He cupped his chin and tilted his head. "How many bricks do we have saved up?"
They jokingly called the calorie bars "bricks," and he was asking Kiwi since she was the one in charge of their finances—being his supervisor at the factory and all, keeping up appearances and such.
"Around twenty. Why?"
"If I use half of them, I might be able to locate the server tonight," Faelan said. "Depending on what I find, I might even be able to damage it."
Sure, regular roots couldn't get in there aggressively, but mycelium could!
The problem was, due to his lack of skill so far, if he wanted to speed up its spread enough to cover a wide area, he'd need to let it feed on something edible.
And choosing between bricks and the tasty food he could make…
Better to burn the bricks! Mycelium isn't picky—especially the magical kind.
Kiwi took a moment to process the information as they walked back to the more populated zones of the factory and headed for the container area. When they arrived, they exchanged a look and silently started inspecting the outside of the container to see if anyone had tampered with it.
"There's a small hole that connects to the lower container in the front-left corner of the right side." No one was below yet, so she didn't bother whispering. "I'm sure it wasn't there this morning, and the edges are clean, so it's recent," Kiwi confirmed.
Other than that anomaly, the rest looked as dilapidated as usual.
"Should we seal it?" Faelan asked, wanting her opinion.
"Yes. Leaving it as is would look suspicious. I'll go get a thermal sealing patch." Kiwi turned to leave and came back a few minutes later. "Here, you know how to use it—you've got a better hand with this stuff than I do."
Faelan took the patch and began sealing the new hole in the container with great care, as if it were leaking deadly gas.
And maybe it was!
"So, about what I said…?"
"Do it tonight. Use all of them directly if that works better," Kiwi agreed. "I'll get our stuff ready so we can pick up and run if needed. Only the essentials."
"Well, it's not like we have much." Faelan glanced around.
Besides the scant amount of clothes they owned, the only remotely valuable item was the VR headset "loaned" by the factory and some old electronics they'd scavenged here and there to build things like the Pip-Boy.
But the headset was useless now, and the components probably weren't worth much since they were outdated. Maybe collectors would want them.
Honestly, running with just what they wore wasn't a bad idea…
"Then I'll try to get something useful. You just focus on your side!" Kiwi grumbled as she realized he was right. "I won't sleep—I'll stay alert and wait for your signal."
Faelan gathered all the calorie bars and went looking for a quiet area, preferably near the cable he needed to track. After making sure to avoid cameras and a few guards, he sat beneath a low catwalk and began to work his magic.
He opened all the packets and dumped the "bricks" onto the floor in a pile.
He set the wrappers aside and placed his hand over the "food" the mycelium would feast on.
Soon, a discreet white network infiltrated the wiring and, being careful not to touch anything inside, clung to the interior wall as it advanced rapidly.
To Faelan's surprise, the cable wasn't as direct a connection as Kiwi had suggested.
It zigzagged everywhere!
"How much cable did they waste?" he couldn't help but think. "Are they trying to confuse orbital structural scanners or something?"
After several minutes of following the cable, he finally reached his desired destination: the main server that handled most of the factory's operations and contained the data he wanted to erase.
It was located in a basement ten meters underground, surrounded by cooling and ventilation systems running at full blast.
No wonder they hadn't found it before!
"Yeah, there's no way I'm taking that thing out with mycelium," he concluded, noticing how his creation was shriveling like a mummy on that side.
Despite the cooling systems, the server room was clearly hot enough that the mycelium withered quickly.
"I don't have any lightning spells in my druidic arsenal, and there are emergency countermeasures, so I can't overload it even if I wanted to," Faelan muttered, scratching his chin as he thought about what to do with the server. He had already committed to physical destruction the moment he located it. "Shutting down the cooling? No, that would just trigger an alarm before it'd do anything useful—and they'd pay more attention to it for a while."
Hmm…
Given how deep it was, maybe he could collapse the basement and bury the server under tons of pressure?
The factory's machines were relatively modern, but the architectural structure—like the warehouses and walls—was quite old. And in the basement, despite all the money invested in electronics and temperature control, Faelan noticed no reinforcements on the walls or support columns.
A combo of thick roots damaging the basement supports and softening the soil might do the trick.
Faelan licked his lips—nervous, but also a little excited. Maybe he could finally go all-out with his powers?
He didn't sense any surveillance cameras in the basement, but even if there were one, surely it had already noticed all that mycelium, right?
So… what harm was there in pushing things a little further?
Now that he'd found the spot, he decisively abandoned the mycelium and sent several thick roots directly toward the basement, drilling aggressively without fear of being noticed. But once he was close to breaking in, he didn't let them burst in right away. Instead, he encircled the basement, splitting the roots like a giant bear trap while softening the surrounding soil into sand-like texture along specific lines.
Once he felt the basement ceiling was about to give, he snapped the root trap shut with all his strength.
Several meters beneath the factory, the main server room was suddenly impaled by massive roots bursting through the floor and walls, shredding the delicate cooling and ventilation systems like a maiden thrown into an iron maiden.
Shortly after the shock, the ceiling cracked—and with a foreboding rumble, several tons of rock crushed the remaining machinery, while waves of sand flowed through the ventilation shafts, collapsing the exits.
Faelan didn't leave immediately, even though he knew there had to be an alarm going off somewhere by now. He used the roots to probe the state of the wrecked main server—and was glad he did. The roots manipulated some of the scrap and managed to pull out a square object wrapped in a box made of an unknown alloy, which had protected the hard drive.
"I can't take this with me," Faelan decided, burying the surviving hard drive deep underground with the roots for now. He could retrieve it later, once he was safe, since it would take days to clear the ruins of this disaster.
After making sure there wasn't a second hard drive, he retracted the roots as best he could and sighed in relief as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"I have to warn Kiwi."
Their data had been deleted and the factory could no longer claim them. As long as they could disappear, they would be almost free.
Maybe the foreman or Kondraki would put a price on their heads with some fixer once they realized they had escaped—but at this point, it was a risk he could accept.
Besides, he had a way to deal with both of them, if he hurried...