Turn 14

--- Maya ---

“Another morning, another run.” She sighed, once more just barely keeping up with Izzy’s pace.

(Well at the very least we’re getting the hand of this running thing now.)

(We’re still getting our asses handed to us by a twelve-year-old.)

(Perhaps, but at the very least we’re not exhausting ourselves doing it.)

“A surprising amount of this is just mental pacing and control.” She commented idly, since that was the primary reason she was doing as well as she was.

“I know, I’m still surprised you’ve caught onto all of the technique and stuff so easily.” Izzy admitted having overheard her words. “Still doesn’t do much for your actual lack of muscles though.”

Her sister’s words weren’t entirely wrong, because while she had picked up all of the running techniques with an absurd ease, her actual physique was still just barely above that of the infamous American couch potato.

---

Deciding to try and take a break for once after her run with Izzy, she went to her laptop to try and do a little more research into what exactly M.A.D.s were capable of in the hopes of inspiring some greater ideas within the whispers of her mind.

“Okay, so if we’re going to be doing hero work we should probably try and look into the kinds of healing equipment other M.A.D.s make.” She told her other selves.

(So, we can rip them off!)

“What, no!” She shook her head. “To inspire us to make our own shit.”

(Ah, you mean so we can bootleg them!)

“…”

(It might be better to just let this one go.) Her inner reason warned.

“Right…” She began flickering through medical advancements M.A.D.s were responsible for in the hopes of getting an idea she could pull off with her own resources.

“Mm, let’s see… A form of tobacco that actually repairs the damage smoking does to the lungs?” She read with a bit of surprise.

(We might want to mention that to abuelita.)

(Don’t bother they cost three times what a normal pack does…)

“Damn.” There went her Christmas present.

(Shame too, we might’ve won with that one.)

Continuing down the page she stopped on a cool article. “Ooh, prosthetics with a 3D printer?”

(A good idea but not really viable with our resources, nor does it have the patch and go thing heroic healing needs.) Her inner reason warned.

“I know but still… It’s a cool idea.” And one she’d have to remember if she ever made her own Cyber-Punk.

(Cooler thing, there were no M.A.D.s on that project.)

“Huh,” She re-read the article. “You’re right.”

She’d almost forgotten that while M.A.D.s were at the forefront of most sciences, there were just as many non-powered individuals pushing the limits as well.

(Got to love healthy competition.)

“Point to them.” She agreed, knowing she’d join in the race once she hit her own stride.

(Wait, there’s one we might be able to pull off now!)

She clicked the article her inner logic had pointed out.

(“Plants modified to extrapolate healing properties, verified for widespread use.”) She read, going over a few details about how common and widely used herbal remedies were being modified to do their jobs much better as simple easy made pastes. Enabling some pharmacies to better supply aid to lower incomes.

“Bit advanced, since we haven’t actually done anything in biology yet.” She reminded her more ambitious self.

(Perhaps, but remember I am the part of you that wishes to excel at whatever we do. And if we only do what we already know how to do, then we shall never advance to the next level.) Her inner reason explained.

(That and we can make the green plants from any action game with crafting.)

(There’s that too.)

Well, that was reason enough for her to give it a try.

---

Knowing if she was going to get any of the upgrades or projects that the whispers were telling her about, she went through the entire house in an attempt to find anything she’d be able to make use of.

And while the majority of her house was getting fairly bare, she did notice that one of the neighbors had apparently thrown out their computer for whatever reason. And seeing how she didn’t actually need the computer to run so much as she did the parts inside it, she saw absolutely no reason not to take the machine for herself. (After all, one woman’s trash is another’s treasure.)

(You shouldn’t talk about people’s love lives like that.)

She stumbled at that. “The fuck?”

(I don’t believe that’s what she was talking about…)

“It really isn’t…” She agreed, trying to figure out where that came from.

(Oh, well in that case… Shouldn’t we swipe the recycling bin too?)

Again, her inner crazy’s words made her pause.

“Actually, that isn’t a bad idea.”

---

With all the parts she needed now on hand, Maya decided this was the perfect time to begin working on another Memory upgrade for her COMP. Because while she did have plans for a storage server for her less integral programs to be run from once she had a base set up, that didn’t change the fact that at the moment she did not have a base, and thus needed as much memory as she could cram into a handheld device.

Luckily the computer she’d swiped off the side of the road, merely had a burned-out CPU from having the fans blocked. And given how her COMP was already ten-thousand times superior to said CPU, it was no major loss to her. Especially since the hard drive was still intact leaving her with the perfect thing to upgrade her own memory. -After a few M.A.D. upgrades of her own of course.-

“And with this we should have another thirty-three percent of memory to work with.” She told her other selves as they slotted the expanded hard drive into place.

(Good because some of those program upgrades we’ve got cooking are going to eat right through that extra Memory.)

“Pfft,” She couldn’t help but scoff at that understatement. “How long do you guys think this upgrade will hold us over for?”

(A few weeks if we’re lucky.)

(I say we’ll need a new one within a week.)

“Ah, the problems of coding M.A.D.”