Cyberpunk 2766AD

It’s a longer wait than I’d like and I scan the area repeatedly but am alone. Eventually, a crack of light appears around the door as it begins to open…magnify …only one person standing in my sight line none behind them. Listening intently I don’t hear the guy say goodnight or anything.

As soon as the man in the white hospital uniform steps out I zap him with the ring and he goes down to the wet pavement out cold while I jam my boot in the door. Cracking it open wider I slip into a white room filled with cooking equipment.

I wish I had time to hide him but I don’t. I just let the door shut softly, making sure the latch engages.

Slipping into the small closet to my right I find a fresh uniform and take my coat off to slip it on. I put one of the white caps on over my distinctive hair, tying it in the back, and wish I had a surgical mask but there aren’t any there.

I do, however, put on a pair of latex gloves.

Nothing to do with my wet coat, I fold it carefully because everything in a hospital is folded, and carry it in both hands as though it has just been sanitized, the pulse shotgun in my hand underneath.

I go along at a businesslike pace getting only a few incurious looks from hospital staff.

When I find examining/treatment rooms I go into one to wait. Whoever comes in first whether a janitor or a surgeon is going to win the lottery and take a bullet out of my thigh.

Keeping an eye on the door for the prizewinner I collect the things that I know they’ll need except for one important thing. Well, nothing for it…they’ll find it for me.

Suddenly a tall older man in the blue uniform of a doctor hustles into the room and stops dead when he sees me.

“Who are you?”

I slip gun from under the coat and waggle it, the message is clear. Close the door.

He does.

 

I hate myself for doing this. It feels like sealing but technically we did make a trade. Even if it was not much of a trade it was still a trade. I should have everything I need by the time he gets to some type of enforcer.

Assuming that he makes it that far.

This can't be a safe place if prostitutes are still allowed to peddle their wears on the street.

The lady is more then happy to sell me all kinds of clothing, that daddy line works on everyone. I just wish this arm was not severed or that I am carrying around a hand in my pocket. Then I spot what I need. a Pocketbook, perfect. That does it, Now I am convinced that women have the market corned on the best equipment to keep things hidden.

Should I just go with Black... Humm maybe I should toss some red, yah, guys like red and pink right? Guys like pink too? The lady asks me if I am nervous and if it is my first time. I want to laugh myself stupid from that question.

First time what?

Going star raving nuts and on a killing spree; only to finally gain control of myself after my arm is laying in blood a broken stump on the pavement from one my closest friends trying to stop me from killing some other freebooter?

Then YES, this is my first time doing that.

Well I hope it was my first time doing that at least.

So I tell her that it is my first time, and she is all like "Oh this is so exciting;'' and I ingest a two hours of verbal abuse from this woman about her first time and how amazing it was in the back seat of a priest's car while she hands me three thousand credits of tramp-wear-for-teens.

Does anyone in this infernal city have any decency to them?

Right, like I am the person to be asking THAT question.

She lets me 'freshen up' in the ladies bathroom and change after I pay the bill and I feel like a new woman, minus an arm.

I slap a big fat wet kiss on her lips just to try and unsettle her a bit, but in truth I have no idea why I am acting this way, like someone crossed a wire in my mind and I feel uncaring for some odd reason, like nothing matters. Next thing I know she pulls me in, kisses me back and tells me if I plan on giving up on men after my first time she gets off in three hours.

I liked it better when I was being shot at.

The wig was a nice touch, hot pink to go with the black and white outfit, I almost feel like a female version of my old self. It feels good. The hand if the doorman on my backside does not. I bend his fingers back as I bring his hand up and tell him that I don't give free rides.

I am finally getting Kiara's issued with that part of her body.

Peter is almost drolling as I walk in the door.

I show him the arm and his face turns white. I explain that he either can fix me and this he has use in my life or he can;t and this is a problem.

I explain that unlike Tolva I don't have any love interest in Pinter, well, he is about to find out if blood is thick enough to paint walls with if he can't help me.

At least this time I am able to stop myself before I hurt him.

I'll count that as a Win for some self control at least.

 

Jimmy groaned and sat up. His head was still spinning from the drugs that had put him under. He looked down at his hands.

"What the ****?"

His hands were gone. They just ended in stubs that were capped with some sort of cybernetic thing. It looked like they were places to attach something...like a hand. That's when his memory came back to him. It didn't come all at once, and not very clear because of the drugs, but he did remember a crash, and some guy attacking him. He must have been a bounty hunter.

Jimmy swung around and tried to stand up, only to realize that his right leg was still missing. It was too late though, he crumpled to the ground in a heap. Why was the room spinning so hard? It would have made him throw up, but there wasn't anything to come up. That was weird, he thought he remembered eating before the crash.

"Over there. That's a door," he muttered to himself. "It's time to get out of here."

With that he began to drag himself over to the door, pushing with his good foot and lifting himself up off the floor on his forearms. He pushed open the door and then lay there panting, trying to recover his streangth.

 

Fox gave Kiara a little laugh. "Sorry shorty, but I you're stuck with me for the time being." She turns her attention towards Spencer. "I know, but right now there are to many unknowns. We know next to nothing about the hunters coming after us, and they seem to know every move we make. For now we need to get back up to the midsection. It has to be safer than being in the slums." Fox picks up Kiara, using her tail in place of her left arm. "Where is the vehicle that you used to get here?"

 

I sit up slowly... pain makes me a bit dizzy, but at least it's finally subsiding to tolerable levels. I examine my chest. It's a clean cut, and non-lethal, fortunately, but if not for the nanites, the uncontrolled bleeding probably would have rendered that point moot. I take a quick glance around, and notice that the good doctor has gone to pieces. "D*mn." Of all the rotten luck. I get about 3 seconds to contemplate that, when the door to the operating area swings open. I turn to look, and flinch... the pain hasn't completely gone away yet. Jimmy is laying on the floor, panting like he's run a marathon. Poor kid looks like h***, although I'm sure I probably don't look much better.

With the pain receding, my mind starts spinning again...Jimmy's alts aren't done, he just has little stubs, and since he's crawling, I can only assume he's still short by one leg, and I have this nasty hole in my chest. We still need a doctor. I wonder if the good doc kept record of any other doctors in the area that were as tight-lipped and willing to help as he is. I ease my way to my feet, still slightly short of breath, and wobble over to his desk. I sit and start rummaging around through all the papers left out, then I start going through drawers. I break the bottom drawer open... I don't think the doc will mind anymore; patient files, not what I wanted. I look up at his computer... I've got no ports, time to do this the old fashioned way. I crack my knuckles and start typing. Fox is still hanging over my shoulder, she may have asked what I was doing, but I was concentrating on blocking what pain was left, and finding info, I couldn't concentrate on anything else.

After a few minutes of searching, I'm still no closer to finding what I wanted. I push away from the desk with a huff of frustration, then I turn at look at Fox. "You have a port on your hand, right? Can you hack with it? We still need to find a doctor... somewhere. Jimmy still needs one, and now so do I." My mind is screaming warnings at me about this, but I don't see a better option.

 

Peter turns out to be quite informed about my construction.

He knew of my synthetic skin, because being a mortician they use it to cover major problems on people that had to have implants taken out. Which then he goes on to explain that his job to remove such alts form people to prevent grave robbing and things like that.

Then he drops a bomb in my lap and explains that he is doing quite well for himself on the alteration black market. He removes then then resells them. he offers some real scotch and I smile and take the glass. He explains that the law is vague on the details of what is supposed to happen to the alts. It implies that they should be given to medical institutions or destroyed. Well by law a funereal parlor with a mortician counts as a medical institution.

He then explains the mollymer compounds and my bone structure like he has worked with this before.

He explains that 'living Dolls' which are the new wave of 'real doll' are made with mollymer movement components to keep weight down so they can be picked up and moved about during activities. he then introduces me to some blue skinned android he named 'Areial'.

Then he explains that we are made out the same basic components. Our skeleton is made from the same stuff and we both have Mollymer synthetic muscles over the same type of skin. But she has less mollymer in her whole body then I have in my forearm.

Oh I really wanna kill him now.

He just told me that I am nothing more then some upgraded overcomplicated sex toy.

He pulls up on his computer the data sheets of the Living Dolls and my jaw almost crashes into his floor. I search my records in an instant and the same name that invented and designed living dolls is what made me.

Figgers that Living Dolls is owned by Sikki Corp.

Don't that just answer all my issues.

Peter turns out to be quite helpful, it seems seeing me having a triple D cup and long hot pink hair dressed like a two credit street walker makes him feel like helping me, a lot. I'll have to make note of that in the future.

He seems adapt at working on me and while he mends my arm together he explains that he has his fingers in some other pies, like modifying living dolls on the side to make them fit the desires of their owners. I don't ask but he tells me anyway. I need the arm fixed and it is going to take him a while a to do it. I guess I just need to endure the bad mental images.

He has Areial bring out a data slate full of pictures of his work, and then make us some food. I think Peter has been more informative in telling me about me then I knew about myself.

he hands me a Data Slate with a portable up-link that is registered to a friend of his.

At the end of it all, I ask why he is doing this.

- To be continued -

 

Fox says "Sorry, but I'm not much of a hacker. I man control computers to some degree, but I can't get go into cyberspace the way hackers do. For now, we need to get a safe location. Where is the vehicle you used to get here. The four of us should go back to that hotel you guys were staying in. You and Jimmy need rest, and I still haven't eaten anything since the shuttle crash."

 

When the slug is out the doc squeezes some of the same super-skin bondo stuff to glue the wound shut. Then he reaches for the biotape that will cover the wound before absorbing into the skin.

I stop him.

“No, doc,” I say, “I want nanites.”

He looks pretty miffed in spite of the fact that he’s on the wrong end of a gun.

“This isn’t an augment shop,” he sniffs, “it is a hospital.

“Can we pretend for a minute that I might know that nanites have been in use in the medical field for a long time now?” My tone is acidic enough to etch the steel table.

“For trauma an extreme cases only!”

Hospital policy has just butted heads with my personal needs.

“And I find that I need nanites to heal this,” I shove the muzzle at him a little, “extremely.”

He gives me a sour look and goes to a panel with a retinal scanner beside it and does the scan. Opening the case he pulls out a vial of familiar greenish nanite suspension liquid, draws it up into a hypo, and injects it at the wound site.

“There,” he says, still miffed, “our factories can’t keep up with an everyday de-

I shock him with the ring and he’s down for the count, arms and legs splayed all over the place. Geez, how much did I amp up this ring?

I check his pulse. He’ll wake up drooling and disoriented but he’ll wake up. Eventually.


Four minutes later I’m hidden away in the hospital basement, munching a plate of food stolen from a cart. It’s somewhat cardboardy but it’s calories, which at this point is all that matters.

 

- continued -

Peter taps the data plate and an image of an old man pops up. I see Peters face grow cold and his jaw tighten. He tells me that this man molested him and used his position as his head of the medical school to subjugate Peter into humiliation and that is why he is a mortician now.

Not that he is not happy being a mortician, but the abuse this man put his though was heinous and he wants revenge. Seems simple enough. a Trade of abilities.

I ask him why this involves me, he is rich enough to have this guy dead, any ganger would take the hit.

Peter laughs and looks me in the eye and explains that He does not want the man dead, he wants the guy hurt and bleeding, humiliated. Since I have any parts I need and all options open to me. I can do the job and make sure it will be a lasting impression.

I hop in the car the man had traded me for his life and head off to meet this old friend of Peters.

Why am I not even remotely shocked at how easy it was to get into his hotel room. I suppose like everyman, when a hot babe shows up at their apartment and ask them if I can please him orally, he can't wait to get the open the door.

The guy answers the door wearing nothing but a lounging robe and asks me which class I am in. After I am inside I tell him I go to the school of hard knocks and that I am bout to give him a cooking lesson in how to serve an ice cold plate of revenge.

Three hours later he is bleeding just like Peter wanted, and a bit more so. I got a little excited and panicked a bit when he started screaming.

But what is really worrying me that this is not bothering me as much as I know it should.

The singsong voice that filled my mind seemed almost glad when I hurt people.

I pull up the internal specifications of my system. I might be built to look like one of those erotic companions, but Sikki corp had military contracts and testings. It is almost a no brainier to guess which division made me. Seems like a classic case of beating plowshares into swords.


I need a hacker to access my system. I need to fix what is wrong with me, or maybe what is right with me. I am not sure yet.

And the only hacker in this planet I would trust is Tolva.

I wish she was here, and Kiara as well.

Man I feel lonely.

 

I glare in Fox's general direction... I don't like that answer, but if its all I got, I gotta make due. "I parked around the corner. Older model hover. If it hasn't been reported stolen yet, we shouldn't have any trouble, but we should consider ditching it before we get to the hotel." Fox didn't seem to like that answer much more than I liked her previous one, but in my mind, it was the safest route. I'd rather not park the evidence right in front of the hotel, ya know?

I ease my way back to my feet, and Fox moves to help me. I wave her hand away and start to take a couple of steps "I'm fine, I can wa-..." Icy cold and burning heat flash through my face simultaneously... that feeling that yer about to throw up... man I hate that feeling. I stop moving and take a few gasping breaths... the feeling subsides, and I take another couple of experimental steps, at a much more leisurely pace. I try again -"I can walk... slowly." I take another couple of steps to reinforce my point, then I stop, pondering.

"Hey Spence... can you help Jimmy? You're the only one left in one piece, and he can't really walk." He grabs the kid, and we make our slow painful way out the door and around the corner. Thank the gods the car is still there! I hand the keys to Spence and hope he can remember how to get back to the hotel from here.

 

Fox sits in the back seat, next to Kiara. She says "Your a stubborn woman, you know that. You could have made your wound worst by walking, you know. Why didn'y you just let me help you? I promise, I don't bite." She looks over at the woman with a grin, as the car starts up and takes off. "I guess we should ditch it in some private area, about a block or two away from the hotel."

 

Zu had been walking for hours now, cautiously eyeing everyone that got close to him. The midlevel wasn't nearly as dangerous as the slums, but scum still lurked even if it was dressed in better clothes.

His body was being overrun by hunger and fatigue. He was skeptical, since the last time he stopped to rest he had his chest blown apart. Still, he'd rather die from gun shot than starvation. He made his way into a small pizza parlor, ordered the seafood surprise. He stared at the slices, and didn't bother to ask what the surprise was. The pizza had plenty of nutrients his body needed, it just didn't look all that appetizing. He hastily ate the slices to avoid getting the full flavor of the pizza.

After a few minutes of trying to keep it down, he followed it up with an electrolyte cocktail and began walking again. The next target building was two blocks around the corner, and Zu wanted to make it up one or two more levels before crashing all together.

 

When I next wake up I am in the next tower away from the hospital, wedged into one of those forgotten spaces at the top of a small flight of steps accessed through a closet in a library. There is even a grubby window that faces the hospital.

With the storm clouds heavy overhead it’s very difficult to tell what time it is. Peering from the window, I engage my magnification and the hospital leaps to startling life through the rain as though suddenly brought into my lap with powerful binonculars.

Except that it is monovision, of course. That originally took some getting used to. Having one eye at magnification and the other eye innocently along for the ride caused headaches until I figured out how to ignore messages from my normal eye while engaging the alt. The lack of depth perception was difficult at first, too.

Stretching, I feel pretty good for all that I’ve slept rough in the little nook. The hospital looks calm. Still, best to stay away for a while.

Story of my life. If it weren’t for laying low I’d get no sleep at all.

I inspect the knife grazes and the bullet entry wound. The only damage left is to my suit which now has a cut across my ribs on the right side and another on my thigh. There is a square hole where the doc had to cut away material for the bullet removal.

Sighing, I listen carefully. The library is deserted pretty much all the time. With the net it is basically obsolete and only bibliophiles really care about all of these written pages. There has been no sound at the closet door.

Quickly stripping, I remove the suit, pulling a small pair of scissors and sewing materials from my coat pocket that I appropriated from the hospital. I wish I could have taken the stock of nanites from the room but they would not have survived long in my coat pocket.

I slice off the left sleeve of my suit, cutting the shoulder part out and quickly finishing the edges before putting the suit back on. Now it is a one-sleeved suit and a separate sleeve like a gauntlet for the left arm. I move around experimentally in the cramped space, and then put my Sheilders and boots back on.

Putting my coat back on and restoring everything to the pockets, I slide the pulse gun back into my boot and consider what to do next.

What exactly does Gleeson want, really? He apparently knows about Pinter’s chip though I don’t know how. Is he going to sell it to a high bidder? Is he working for Sekki and wants to destroy it? Is he going to use it for a spot of blackmail of his own? Will he kill me once he gets what he wants…or before?

And what is he making of his tracking nanites?

I wish I had gotten Doc Fillon to neutralize the trackers but I had been too ill then too hurried to remember them at the time. I could go back there…no. I won’t go backwards any more at this moment. I’ve already fallen to Lower Midlevel with the little fight and anti-grav trick and I’m unwilling to fall any lower.

 

Inwardly, Spence wondered if returning to the hotel was a good idea. But then, was going anywhere a good idea? Vornn had been able to track them nearly anywhere. He was good. Very good. But there had been four of them sitting right in the office. That would have been at least 200 mil...why didn't he take it? If he had, some of them would have ended up dead. Vornn knew his business.

The hotel was as good a place as any. Kiara and Jimmy were still in bad shape. Fox's words had stuck with him: "...right now there are to many unknowns. We know next to nothing about the hunters coming after us, and they seem to know every move we make." Information. They needed a Net hookup. To do that, they'd need Jimmy healed and in his right mind.

Spencer almost smiled. The destinies of at least four people now depended on the skills of a 16-year-old kid. What other surprises would this trip have in store for them?

They were coming up on the hotel. Spencer looked for a place to park.

 

At the next intersection-go left-and continue on this road for-300 metres

Zu was getting really tired of listening to the female William Shatner give him directions. He kept reminding himself he needed to get the next version upgrade. Not that his was obsolete, but the next version came with voice-mind selection, which allowed him to program his GPS with any voice he wanted, just by thinking of it. He had planned on using Ming Yakiko's voice, an up and coming actress who just starred in the fifth remake of Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. He had a thing for Asian girls, after all.

Turn left-welcome to the Hoboken Building-3220 steps or one turbolift

Zu sighed. He spotted a bench and promptly sat down to rest his feet. The urge to steal a hover was always at the forefront of his mind, but he knew this was safer. He looked up and down the street, observing the few mingling couples enjoying the rain. He removed his hood and looked up, letting the drops splash on his face, before sitting back and relaxing for a spell.

 

Gogul Sen Markus and Roxy stood on the Monorail platform in the rain watching together as the dawn lifted over New L.A. the sun rose up the city lit up under a blue sky and the rain slowed to a halt. In the distance Vornn sat on a gargoyle watching also.

Adam left the precinct with what he needed. He stopped waited for a flyer to approach and entered.

Zarkiel kneeled on the stone marble floor of the catholic church. His head bowed his staff at his side he spoke words of Latin occasionally kissing the black marble of the floor.

Evan stood with Mr Stern on the balcony both men supping coffee in small white cups watching the dawn rise.

In the distance the Technomancer gang were emerging into the streets led by a tall brute with a steel jaw. Winrik.

Today was going to be the start of the end.

Something was in the air.

 

Fox could feel that something was up. There was a sort of anticipation in the air for some reason, and it seemed to shake her to her core. "Hey Spencer, can you feel it? Something big is going down, and I don't like it. I think the hunters are about to make some kind of move. We should hurry back so that these two can heal up."

 

Spencer nodded and landed the vehicle.

"I feel it."

He got out and began to gather up the still-incoherent Jimmy from the back.

 

This time, Fox wouldn't let Kiara walk. She picked her up, much to her chagrin. Fox simply used her tail in place of her left hand while carrying Kiara. When the four of them got into the hotel room, Fox lays Kiara down on the bed. She looks down at the slightly annoyed woman. "Believe me, I'm not fond of depending on others either, but sometimes it has to be done. Try to relax until your chest feels a little better." Fox's stomach lets out a loud growl. "Damn, that's right. I still haven't eaten anything since the shuttle crash. Well since this room is on someone else's tab, I might aswell get some roomservice."

 

The rain let up and Zu opened his eyes. He had been sitting for ten minutes, at least, and had almost fallen asleep. The sun was shining, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was actually a nice day, except for an odd feeling Zu had. He decided it was time to keep moving.

Getting off the bench, he brushed drops of water off himself and made his way into the Hoboken Building. With a flash of his stolen badge, security let him through unchecked. He ducked into the service stairwell near the bathrooms and looked up. Only 3220 to go, he thought.

He decided it was best to mute his GPS for this trip.

 

Wraith had spent the last day cultivating contacts in the bar. He had a ticket on cargo ship, out of LA. It was heading to the NURA (Newly Unified Republic of Australasia) (I know, I cant actually go!)

He had met the captain early in the morning, it was due to leave in 4 days time. He just had to survive until then. He had arranged to help the captain load his vessel with the cargo, in order to earn a few credits. He spent 2 hours working, for 5,000 credits.

With them he bought a plasma rifle and a few det packs. If they came for him, he would be ready. He was sure someone had seen him make the transactions. It would be logical to assume the law enforcers would be on his trail soon. The bounty might even have rose.

He was now back in his room, waiting.

 

Jimmy fell to the floor pain gripping through his chest. unable to move he fell collapse. In sheer horror Jimmy watched as his arm was eaten away into nothing. Pain beyond imagining gripped him more so shock filled his system and he passed out. Luckily for Jimmy the nanite’s with his body died out after devouring his arm. All that remained was the stump below the left shoulder.

Fox stood pain reeling through his stomach to the groin. He looked down horror stricken to witness his left foot been eaten alive the flesh dissolving before his eyes. He passed out from the horror and thought of been eaten alive. He fell to the ground face down. The nanites again died out.

The two Freebooters had been left alive in need of new limbs but would never be able to sustain another batch of nanites for many years to come. They're systems rejecting nanites due to the lack of food intake. They would live but they would be requiring new bionics to replace the flesh taken from them.

 

It is time to move out. Tempting as it is to hide forever in the hidden library nook I need to keep moving. I’ve lost ground, time to make it up.

I shuffle out of the closet as though it is an everyday occurrence and nobody gives me a second glance. There are only two people in sight anyway, an old man who is reading archaic newspapers with a holographic uplink, paging through them and making notes, and the librarian who is doing something with a stack of books that involves periodic and energetic stamping.

She looks upset, as though being stiffed library fines is slowly eroding her reason for being and is taking it out on the books with each hearty whack.

Moving to the small computer lab I sit down and try to refamiliarize myself with the keyboard and monitor setup. They’re a pain in the butt and I check to make sure I’m still being ignored. Unhooking the computer I plug the connector into my hand port and clutch the edge of the heavy plastic laminate desk as I fall into cyberspace.


Images…images…on and on…searching quickly through the traffic and security cameras of the city…I cannot find Ghost or Kiara. They might be there but the amount of information is overwhelming.

I do, however, see a metal-jawed man leading a gang out with a purposeful look. He isn’t good news, I can tell. I see two people on a monor…dammit; one of them is the woman who attacked me on the road! I zoom in close and get a good look at she and her companion.

There are threats everywhere.


When I yank the connector from my hand I’m breathing shallowly and the old man has torn himself away from his newspapers to stare at me.

“I forgot my pills,” I tell him, holding my hand over my heart. This is a language he understands and he nods and goes back to his notating, shooting me a glance now and then.

The oblivious librarian is still punishing her books when I walk out past her counter. She looks up sternly and says, “SHHH.”

I peer through the glass door before going out but see nothing to trouble me other than the fact that it’s bright outside now.

With my hood up to shroud my hair, I head back over the roadspan to the hospital tower to find the turbolift.

 

Well, the drugs were worn off, and it really sucked.

"Fox! What the hell did you do to me?"

He couldn't stop staring down at where his left arm should have been. How do you react to something like that? Swearing just isn't good enough to convey how a person feels when they suddenly find themself without an arm, a leg, and a hand.

 

I send Peter the video of his former professor being the love slave of the Horse Hung Transsexual Love Bot Madam XY.

He lets me know though tears of laughter and glee that it was exactly what he wanted.

I ponder for a moment that every part of my body is adjustable and that singsong voice that flows through my head. Something is wrong here.

I would imagine that Military would not use a singsong voice, they would use some stale synthetic voice that made running to your death in the middle of a war torn land sound like a bland event.

Which is leaving me with the unsettled feeling that I might very well be some rich guys idea of a sexual fantasy toy gone haywire wrong. I mean it could be some girls, but women just don't seem to be into that kind of thing. When you think about it men are far more into... I really, really want to stop thinking about this.

Peter explained that servos and durasteel are better for implants, Alts and Androids then mollymer because of cost, they are only used in erotic androids to maintain that 'human like feel'. I want to puke.

I look up Peters contact list and Doctor Peter Fillon seems to be one of his best importers. I'll have to go check up on the good doctor first.

I need to keep myself distracted and not think about what I have on my mind right now.