System Overclocked 2 -ch 9- (Patreon)

Waiting, Wrench peered at his system menu.

Reading through each, he had a better understanding of them as of late.

It didn’t hurt that he’d asked a few questions to Peaches when he’d checked in on Blue-Bill as well. While she didn’t know what the systems were, she’d known each of the eleven categories so long as he approached it in a generalized way.

Integumentary, that’s just my skin and hair. Oh, and my nails.

Skeletal, that’s exactly that. Bones.

I wonder if it counts my teeth.

Muscular is the muscles and everything else that goes with that.

Nervous system is my nerves and my brain. Lets me move fast, think fast.

Working with that is my Endocrine system. All my hormone things. Though… uh… I don’t think I want to increase that as wildly as I did this morning. Ever again.

Playing with his systems he’d done a few experiments while showering. In toying with the endocrine system he’d made mistakes.

Going from incredibly aroused, to sexually needy, to a fight or flight response, to becoming incredibly hungry.

Though he’d also found a few things in there that was useful. He’d found that in addition to being as hard as a steel pipe eager to be jammed into an elbow joint, that his muscles as well had been incredibly strong. To the point that he’d torn the shower handle out of the wall.

Cardiovascular is veins, blood, and heart. Super useful for combat.

And uh… Lymphatic is… me, I guess. It’s a Fixer for the body. Keep everything moving, flowing, pushing, working. Though she explained it more like disease defense, blood, and balance of… something.

Anyways.

Respiratory… lungs and breathing. Also why I’m able to be here and not, you know, be dead. Suffocating on whatever the hell this gas is.

Digestive is obvious though… I wonder if I modify it, could I let myself eat anything. Could I eat this hunk of concrete?

Reaching out, Wrench picked up said chunk of concrete. Holding it up he contemplated trying just that.

Then realized he was just being weird because he was bored.

Putting it back down he looked back to his Systems screen.

Renal is just… pissing.

Aaaaand reproductive is how I’ll make sure I don’t get anyone pregnant when I start getting studded out by that Tongsta.

Check, check, check.

Though… can I mess with the respiratory so I don’t have to smell this stink?

Tapping into the respiratory system he fiddled with it in an attempt to limit his ability to smell.

Which did nothing.

“Fucking hell,” grumbled Wrench while regretting having taken a bit whiff through his nose. It’d left him practically feeling faint at the stench of rot that hit him.

Groaning, he tried the nervous system this time. His finger pushing into the window and then stabbing at his nose repeatedly as if that’d work.

Then suddenly he couldn’t smell anything.

The nose on the system window turned black and he no longer had to deal with the disgusting stink of the sub-floor of the Hab.

“Oh thank fuck,” he whispered and blew out a breath. “Oh thank fuck. Okay… uh… great.”

Looking to the drainage system, Wrench saw no change. The stopped up, bubbling, disgusting, water filtration system at the bottom of the Hab was still gunked up.

Gunked up and had been so for a really long time.

It was the same reason that the Hab interior was of a floating design. Anything near the bottom of the Hab would likely be dealing with noxious gasses and end up getting killed.

The Lower Parts were at a point that the air-filter was doing enough work to keep it clear. Below that was a problem to anything that breathed oxygen.

“Hm. I wonder if there’s some type of creature that’d be able to clear this clog. Maybe some other poor sentient creature that the Tongsta have taken,” Wrench mused to no one. Shrugging his shoulders, he realized there was nothing to be done for the drain. He didn’t have the tools on hand to get it done.

It’d take some industrial grade cleanser that was specific to this situation. Anything he made to try and clean it out was more likely to dissolve the pipes as well that carried everything away.

Rolling onto his back he began to scoot out from the under-floor. Wriggling his way through broken flooring, beams, and wreckage.

Realistically, the whole bottom of the Hab needed to be replaced. Even if he got the blockage cleared, it’d probably just happen again. Chances were pretty good it was full of bits of concrete or other debris, rather than the waste it was supposed to collect.

“How’d it go?” called Joy loudly from the junction point. The ducts had an entrance down to this point and it included a vented fan. It was the only reason Joy wasn’t dying as well, or that the Ducts weren’t filling with gas.

It’d also prevented her from hearing anything he said till he was as close as he was right now.

Provided he shout.

“It’s completely blocked. All that drain clearing stuff we got barely made a change. Whatever’s stuck in there is pretty well stuck,” he answered with a yell. “Clearly it’s draining somehow down there otherwise we’d all be drowning in our own filth. It’s just not draining enough. Or fast enough. We’ll need to put in a request for the Tongsta.”

“I don’t think that will help much, but it’s a good thing to log,” agreed Joy. “The Tongsta in charge seems very absent. Very very absent.”

Wrench grunted at that as he got clear of the ruins of the sub-floor. Getting up to a crouch he shuffled over to where Joy was.

Even the parts that weren’t completely ruined still had a great deal of debris all over. If he didn’t know better, it was as if the Hab had been dropped given the extensive damage.

“Yeah, you’re not wrong. I still have to try. I have to log it,” he muttered and entered the access corridor. Then he reached out and physically forced the door shut and then locked it tight. He then looked to the ladder. It was a long climb up. “It’s the same reason you always move to the middle of our group whenever we grather. Some instincts are at a genetic level.

“Something we can’t break without really being hyper-aware of it and forcefully attempting to correct it. I’m a Fixer. I want to Fix… everything. Fix it all, log it, requisition tools, and make it correct.”

“I-yes. That makes perfect sense. We are what we are. I understand,” Joy said and gave him a pretty smile. One that made him think about his experiments this morning.

His body had reacted and the images that flooded his mind was finding Joy and seeing if she wanted to tear a bed apart with him. Not Stripe, not Seventh, not Dusky or anyone else.

But Joy.

An incredibly, unrelenting, desire for Joy.

“I’m so glad to be part of this School. It’s also very interesting!” Joy declared all while smiling at him. The vented fan was technically on the outside of the access corridor so it wasn’t very loud in here, though her hair was still tied up above her head in an odd braid.

The only way he could describe it was a “working” braid.

It wasn’t pretty, elaborate, or good looking. The goal was obviously just to get her hair out of the way and nothing else.

“I never would have thought a School with so many different types in it would keep things so fresh and interesting,” Joy murmured and reached out, laying a hand against Wrench’s forearm. Then she patted him and bounced wonderfully in place. “I’ve learned more in the last week than I ever did.”

Thankfully, Wrench knew that Joy being touchy feely was just how School Hume were. This wasn’t her signaling interest.

“Yeah, I get that. Schools are all about self preservation and-uh-School politics. It’s just as lethal as other things but not in the same way,” pointed out Wrench.

“You’re just being kind to me. You clearly know what Schools are like. You’ve treated me like you were School yourself,” countered Joy, the smile on her face ever present. She took a small step closer to him. “We both know that School are School and what School learn isn’t that useful. Not at all compared to Brawlers and Fixers. Let alone Solo.

“Stripe has been a font of survival information and what to do when out in the Hab. She knows so much and always shares with me.”

Joy’s hand patted his forearm twice more, before patting him once on the chest. Then hugged him, her arms wrapped around him tightly.

It was brief, and then she pulled away.

“Okay. Next on our task list,” Joy murmured and reached down to the tool bag at her feet. It was something she insisted on bringing with her despite the fact that he’d told her they wouldn’t need more than a utility knife.

Pulling out a sheet of met-ape she held it up and pulled a pencil out of her hair. He hadn’t even realized it was there.

“Done!” she cheerfully said and struck a line through an item. “Next we check in with Stripe to confirm the Hab status. Then Seventh to see how the fabrication jobs are going.

“I tentatively put in a lunch for us after checking in with Stripe. I noticed that Seventh’s fab jobs would have a twenty minute window. We could easily go get a Fixer meal from the dispenser and join Stripe in the security room!

“After all that… we have a few maintenance tasks but realistically they’re not absolutely required. Just a couple of tasks for us to work through.”

What… what the fuck?

Haha, really?

“Joy, are you sure you’re not an Admini?” Wrench asked.

“No? I’ve always been a School,” she said with a laugh, though she did bless him a smile again. “This just seemed prudent after talking to Stripe! That’s all. Now, let’s get going.”

Joy grabbed her tool bag, put it over her shoulder, then started her way up the ladder. Without thinking about it, Wrench got up on the ladder behind her and started up.

Only to lift his gaze up and stare right up into the bottom of Joy’s dress and everything that it contained.

Mmm.

Fuck.

Looking straight ahead, Wrench put his mind on the task at hand, rather than what his hormones wanted him to think instead.

Never gonna fucking touch Endocrine like that again.

Never, damn ever.

Sitting down roughly thirty minutes later, Wrench was rather pleased.

Stripe had managed to somehow coax a few parts out of the Supply Depot they needed to upgrade the dispenser. It now served hot food instead of just snack-type foods.

Which let him have a stack of hot and fresh pancakes in the middle of his day with no effort needed on his part. Picking up his fork he started to cut into it immediately. Cutting a hole in the middle of it all.

Joy leaned over Stripe and put down a plate in front of the pretty and peppy Deme. Then laid down a knife and fork next to it, then a drink.

All the while she touched Stripe, patted her, and generally hovered in her space.

Stripe took it with a warm smile, thanked her, and started in on it while watching the screens. Joy left to go fetch her own food.

“The uh… touchy feely thing is a School thing, right?” Seventh asked when Joy was out of earshot. She took a seat next to Stripe.

“It is,” confirmed Stripe, glancing over to Seventh and back to the screens. “Though it’s more than just that. They only touch those they want to connect with or be close with.

“It’s tied in completely to positive feelings on the part of the person touching. If she’s touching you, there’s no reason to be concerned. If she’s not, that’s different all together.”

Smiling, Wrench couldn’t help himself.

It was the exact same thing he’d told Stripe previously. All of her words had once been his and given to her.

She’s like a damn sponge.

“Oh, okay. I like her,” Seventh said around a very large mouthful of what looked like a slab of protein that was unidentifiable. “I should touch her back, right? Do I touch her arms or shoulders? That seems to be where she touches me a lot.”

Stripe didn’t say anything, she just kept looking at the monitors.

“Her arms, forearms. Nothing on the torso or neck. If you’re behind her it can be the back. The shoulders can be a questionable area because that’s more School dependent,” Wrench answered.

“How do School signify interest in someone they want to be with?” Seventh asked, chewing loudly.

“We just tell them!” Joy said with a giggle. She entered the room, sat down next to Wrench, and stuck her fork into what looked a lot like a hefty portion of greens and some type of rice. “Or if we’re unsure, we just ask.

“Why do you ask? If you’re intersted in me, I’m sorry, but I’m not really interested in female companionship, though I’m flattered.”

Seventh choked, gasped, then laughed loudly and a bit awkwardly.

“No, sorry. Not interested. I’m only interested in Wrench,” Seventh proclaimed, thumping a hand against her chest twice. She hacked something up into her hand, coughed again, then swallowed.

Not for the first time, Wrench was surprised at her absolute lack of manners. He had no idea what her Hab was like, but he was beginning to really wonder.

“I think they’re doing something,” Stripe muttered in a low voice. It had almost sounded like a hiss while she stared up at the monitors. “They come up, do business, then linger. They loiter.

“Loiter in groups. Here and there. Look.”

Stripe pointed with one hand at a monitor while at the same time picking food up with her folk.

Wrench focussed on what she was talking about.

Now that he was looking, there really was indeed a few groups of people from the Lower Parts gathering near the Upper Field. They were somewhat of a stand-out amongst all the others.

Or more accurately, the way everyone treated them made them stand out considerably more so.

“You know, maybe that’s another way to hurt them,” Wrench mused after swallowing a chunk of pancake. “What if we fabbed up some pens. Just… built straight out from one of the platforms. There’s a number of them that are just empty spaces after all.

“Nor would we have to really worry too much about weather. Given the state of the sub-floor of the Hab, we couldn’t actually make it rain here anyways.

“We’d end up flooding the whole damn Hab.”

“Uh, why would we build more buildings?” Seventh asked.

“To take away their people,” Stripe answered even as Wrench struggled to swallow his food. “If we take away the people they’re keeping for themselves, the non-Brawlers most-especially, then they lose power.”

“How would we even know who is trustworthy though?” asked Joy nervously. “There’s no way to tell if they won’t just betray us.”

Wrench winced at the thought. She was right of course. There really wasn’t any way for him to make sure they just didn’t turn around and try to betray the Upper Part citizens.

“I guess you’re right,” he muttered. “We’d invite them over, then end up sticking them in their own little building that they can’t leave without an escort.

“Ugh… I like the idea but I have no idea how to implement it. That’s just… outside of my wheelhouse, I guess.”

“We should let the Admini know of the idea and that they need to work on keeping new Hume to themselves,” Stripe suggested. “Though given that we’re new here, they’ve probably already thought about it.”

“Won’t hurt to tell them,” Seventh got out while chewing again. “We’ll let them know about the small gatherings. They’ll have to limit the number of people who are coming and going through the barrier. There’s no way they can let people just gather around like that.

“It’d eventually become an issue. The only real way they’re going to get that barricade down by getting at it from this side of it.

“Though, them trying to form small groups makes sense. They’ve been quiet since we put the barricade up two days ago.”

“Too quiet,” Wrench agreed with a nod of his head.

Ever since he put an arrow in that Brawler’s knee the Lower Parts citizens hadn’t bothered anyone at all. They hadn’t sent anyone to talk, no threats, nothing.

They were quiet to the point that it’d make Wrench anxious and bored. He’d dealt with enough Brawlers to know that unless they were much older and experienced, they wouldn’t take the disrespect he’d thrown their way quietly.

Any Brawler that was still in their youth more often than not couldn’t get over their own ego.

“I’ll go chat up Shinista,” Wrench offered, pouring syrup in the center of his pancake stack. He’d dug a hole straight down the middle of it all down tot he plate.

Smiling, he put the syrup pitcher back down and then broke up the top pancake, pushing it into the center. Making a “syrup well” of sorts.

“I’ll go with you,” Stripe added, still eating as she stared at the monitors. “I could use a break anyways. I’ve spent too long staring at the monitors.”

“I’ll take over for that,” Joy insisted with a warm laugh. “The tasks I assigned myself were all miscellaneous so there’s no real need for me to complete them immediately. It’s all things that can be put on a secondary list.”

“Great. We’ll go shortly then,” Wrench murmured, eating away. He wasn’t about to give up his hot lunch. A hot meal was a new-found luxury to him.

Even in his own Hab he’d often ended up just eating an oat bar more than he wanted to.