For that reason, it is recommended that Mesh combat simulations be used only for initial training. Instead, an Augmented Reality system would be more effective for advanced and continuing training. Fortunately, these facilities are becoming popular and thus cheaper to produce.
--White Paper on the effectiveness of using a pure Mesh training regime for combat troops, 2043
***
When not teaching a class, instructors would roam the ranges and offer advice or assistance to members. In the lowest tier, instructors doubled as extra safety officers and crowd control. With higher membership came more privileges. Besides discounts on the VR simulators and classes, members could use more specialized ranges and get individual coaching if they so desired.
Barry asked that I concentrate on the more exclusive ranges, giving our highest-paying members an added bonus. I was happy to comply since I generally preferred those ranges.
The highest tiers couldn’t be bought directly. Members had to demonstrate their competence and safety awareness, either through competitions or history, before they were quietly offered the chance to pay for the top-level access. That filtering meant that I spent less time on discipline and more on tips or coaching, which was always more enjoyable.
I’d seen Haruka pass by while I was still dealing with the crowds out front. Before retreating to the exclusive ranges, I caught her packing up her gear. “Here,” I said, handing her a new membership card.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“It’s called a sponsored upgrade. We don’t give out many, but if enough instructors agree, we can bump up the membership level of people who are dedicated and show improvement. When I came in today, I saw that you had already been recommended by others and pushed through the paperwork. Congratulations!”
“I don’t know if I’ve earned it. I’m sure there’s others that have worked longer to get one of these,” she seemed flustered.
“I won’t lie and say that I didn’t do it partly as a thank you, but you really did earn it. You showed both grit and skill back there, proving that our training works. The other instructors confirmed it when I asked around.”
“I’ll have to stay on top of my game then, thank you.” She waved at her rifle, an older .22 Remington. “I was wondering if you had any recommendations for an upgrade? I got used to that one you loaned me yesterday, and I definitely want more stopping power if I ever need it.”
“You won’t find any that nice, but there’s a couple that should do.” We spent a little while talking about upgrades that were in her price range. I pointed out that, thanks to her upgrade, she had credits with our rental shop, and she could use that to see what she liked best. “Just remember that in the end, accuracy will beat out power. Unless you are thinking of taking on more M-6s.”
“No, I’ll leave those for you,” she replied and left to check out the rental booth while I drifted on to another range, looking for more people to advise.
Near the end of my shift, I finally tracked down the other person I’d been looking for. Over a year ago, I’d bought an older economy-sized car used. It looked fine on the lot and ran decently for a couple of months, but then it started to break down. Eventually, it died in the Threat Dynamics parking lot, and I couldn’t get it to start.
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Mannie had spotted me taking my anger out on the poor machine and came over to check it out. In the end, I traded some off-hours personal instruction time for Mannie to do a full overhaul, and the rig had been solid since. All I’d had to pay was a small fee to his employer to provide space for Mannie to work in. Ever since, all my automotive work went to Kenson’s Fine Rides, and Mannie in particular.
I caught up to him in a side room set aside for cleaning firearms. The dedicated space had a single row of tables that butted up to a wall covered with cleaning tools, safety warnings, and league invitations. As I settled beside him, Mannie had several pistols laid out on the table, each in different stages of cleaning. He kept one pistol fully assembled at all times and ready to hand, a habit born out of his past. His dark hair and dusky skin reflected his second-generation heritage as an import to Cascadia from points south.
“Hey, man. I saw your car come in. What’d you do to it? Why is it in quarantine?”
“I had to use that collision override you showed me. It worked wonders when I had to protect a school bus full of kids.” I described how the M-6 had run out in front of me and how I had to ram it to protect the bus.
“I didn’t get a good look ‘cause of the quarantine. You know they isolate anything the aliens touch to make sure it’s not contaminated, right? It’s worse for something so fucked up like your car. Can’t get within meters of it, so I didn’t get the best look, but that thing is totaled. You better file your claim and hope they give you enough for a beater.”
“I’ve already filed it and even got the money back, so I guess I’m looking for a new car. Think you can fix me up with an upgrade? Maybe even a Manuel special?”
He set down the barrel he’d been working on and moved to the next one. “What bank did you knock off to get the money for that?” In his spare time he did custom vehicle modifications for people with too much disposable income. The changes often cost more than double the vehicle’s original price.
“You know that there’s a Samurai clause in the insurance contracts?” I asked.
He dropped the barrel on the table and scrambled to keep it from rolling onto the floor. “You made them cough up for that? How?” He stared at me incredulously.
I smiled. “I did an end-around on the automated system for filing claims. Did you know it was set to always deny anything close to that clause? A friend of mine took notice, and I think they’ll straighten their ways. For a while.”
“Hunh, well, that will help, but I don’t know, man. Might still be out of your range. What did you want? The same little econobox?” He started up his cleaning again.
I took a few minutes to think before answering. I had always planned to upgrade my car someday, so I had an idea of what I wanted. But now I could expand on those plans.
--You know, a new car won’t be that many points, right? Only six or seven hundred for a basic model and the catalog. And it would be much better than anything coming out of Japan.
“Reliable, same as the last one. Longer distance, if we can. Bigger. I’d like to seat at least six big people. Faster. Not racecar fast, but here to Seattle in an hour? Oh, and an armored space for weapon storage.”
“Eco-friendly, I take it?” he asked.
I nodded.
Mannie’s hands paused while his eyes flickered, looking into the middle distance. “There’s a SuvHov that’s not too bad. It has the range at least. Ads say that it can do fifteen hundred K before a recharge. Boosting the speed is going to cut into that. How far were you thinking?” The SuvHov, a descendant of the old Sports Utility ground car, had been gaining in popularity lately, letting them start trickling into the used market now.
“Most of the length of the country, I think. Say, a thousand kilometers? That will put Boise in range for a round trip and San Francisco non-stop one way.” I listed a couple of the larger city-states outside of Cascadia.
“Who’d ever want to go there?” Mannie openly opposed anything coming out of California. “But yeah, that will help. Let me think on it a minute. This won’t be cheap, though.” He continued to stare at his augs, occasionally swiping the air with his fingers, before finally sending me a text file.
I looked over the doc, suitably impressed with the stats it casually threw at me, until I reached the end where he listed the price at 4 times what my previous car had been brand new. I’d bought it used, and in the twelve years since coming off the lot, its value had dropped in the eyes of the insurance company. Even with the Samurai clause, the insurance only paid based on current value.
Just to be sure, I checked my bank balance, and my total worth only came to a little above half what Mannie was asking, most of that from the insurance payout.