Leben had been staring at the same line of code for six hours now. It was times like this that made him wonder how the hell the original writers even built the system in the first place; it was so damn complex. With a huff, he got up from the interface and walked out of his apartment. He needed some fresh air.

He watched the city skyline blink awake as the glass elevator dropped the thirty-two floors to the ground. Looks like he accidentally pulled another all-nighter. He ran a hand through his hair and tugged at the tips, a habit born of stress. The doors slid open and dumped him into the main lobby. After waving a good morning to the groggy front desk attendant, Leben made his way out to the street. Thanks to a macro he developed himself, his eyes automatically adjusted themselves to the new level of light, even adding a few shaders to make everything more crisp. It was a simple and straightforward code, but tedious. He'd actually sold it to a few acquaintances who couldn't be bothered to make one for themselves.

He was walking on autopilot at this point, rolling that difficult code around in his head. His feet led him to his favorite coffee shop out of habit. He wasn't really one for coffee, but he loved the smell. There was something about it that helped him think. He walked past the counter toward the tables, the cute girl behind the register gave him a smile. He smiled back; nice to be a regular.

"Hey Leben! Over here," said a gruff and familiar voice.

Leben turned to see a man sitting at the table nearest the window, a simple black coffee in front of him.

"Oh, hey dad."

"I was starting to wonder if maybe you forgot again," his father said.

He definitely forgot again.

"Don't worry, I said I'd remember this time!" Leben sat down across from his father, "Sorry, I've just been so busy."

"That STREAM program Sensenmann got you in is really putting you through the ringer, huh? You're still enjoying it though, right?"

"Oh yeah, I love it! It's tough, but I like the challenge. And I think I've really got the brain for it, y'know?"

His father absently stirred his coffee, which Leben found odd since he never even puts anything in it to begin with.

"I'm glad to hear you're doing well, son. It's just... It's hard on your mother. She never liked this city, you know. Made her feel uneasy, even as a child. That's why we moved out to Sicherheit before we had you kids."

"Auswahl is a perfectly fine city, dad," Leben spoke soothingly, trying to assuage his father's anxieties. "It's one of the top five safest cities in the country. They showed the rankings in last month's issue of the Red County Herald. I'm sure you and mom saw that?"

"Yeah, we saw it," he began. "But just because someone says it, doesn't make it true. I've always trusted your mother's gut instincts more than some ink-pusher."

"Dad I—"

His father stopped him with a raise of the hand, "I'm not trying to convince you to come home, Leben. No need to argue. I just want you to be careful, that's all. Can you promise me that?"

Leben slowly exhaled through his nose, "Yeah dad, I promise."

His father nodded, a sense of finality in his face. He stood up from his seat, "Well, I'd better get going. It's a long way back to Sicherheit, even by train."

"Alright, I have to get over to the university anyway. Sensenmann wanted me to come by his office first thing. Said something about prepping for the final project." He started pulling at the tips of his hair again, "It was good to see you, dad. Have a safe trip home and give my love to mom."

His father waved his hand in such a way that let Leben know the feeling was mutual. He walked to the doors and pulled them open, his parting words drowned out by the noise of the bustling street:

"I pray I made the right choice all those years ago... Be mindful of yourself, my little surprise..."

*********

Auswahl Polytechnic University was located uptown, about a ten minute speedrail from Leben's apartment. The buildings were arranged in the shape of a C with a large quad nestled in the center. Leben didn't have to go through the quad to get to the Programming building, but he always took a brief detour through it. It was one of the few places in the entire city that was filled with bright and lush greenery. When he breathed in the smell of the soil and heard the rustling leaves, he thought of home. He thought of his mom. He felt safe. A family of woodpeckers lived somewhere in the trees, though he could never figure out where. He listened to their frenzied percussion for a moment and allowed the stress to melt away before resigning himself back to the world of concrete and glass. Though he brought the smell with him to meet his mentor.

To the inexperienced eye, Sensenmann's office was an aggressive mess. But Leben could see the purpose behind the chaos. Everything was where it was supposed to be. Like everything else in his life, Sensenmann's special sorting system was entirely unique to him. When Leben entered the room, his sponsor was typing away at his interface with a sort of measured rhythm which Leben had grown accustomed to over the years. He waited patiently for him to finish. With a final definitive stroke, Sensenmann spoke.

"You're late, Leben. First thing means first thing. Not second thing, not third thing."

"Sorry Professor, I forgot I was meeting my dad for coffee this morning."

"Mmh. No matter."

Sensenmann walked past Leben and out the door, stopping only to motion for him to follow. They both stepped into the elevator. To Leben's surprise, the elevator wasn't going up to the coding labs. Instead, it was going down to the senior faculty levels. Students weren't allowed down there, not even if they were in the STREAM program. He wanted to ask what was going on, but he knew Sensenmann despised pointless questions, so he stayed silent. He kept anticipating that the elevator would stop at the next floor down, but it kept descending until the absolute lowest level. With a cheerful ding, the doors peeled open. On the other side was a coding lab, but not like the ones upstairs. Something was different about it, though Leben couldn't quite put his finger on it. He followed Sensenmann to the console in the center of the room. Out of habit, he went to scan the chip in his thumbnail to sync with the system, but Sensenmann caught him by the wrist.

"Not yet," he said firmly.

"O-oh, sorry."

Sensenmann was always serious, but his current tone reached a depth that Leben had never heard from him before. The professor scanned his own chip and logged into the system. With a flurry of keystrokes, he carved a path through the code. Leben had trouble even keeping up. He saw certain words flash by on the screen: RESTRICTED, AUTHORIZE, NEW USER, SHARE. Then Sensenmann stopped typing and the screen finally stilled. The page was just a landscape image of a beautiful garden, vastly green and blooming. In the center of it all was a single iridescent flower with bent, white petals drifting lazily in a breeze. On either side of this flower were two text boxes. The first had the word "AUTHORITY" above it and it was filled in with Sensenmann's security code: BG0004. Then the other had the word "ALLOW" above it and a blinking cursor inside.

"Now," Sensenmann said.

Leben scanned his chip and his code popped up in the box: BG1812. When he saw it, his stomach dropped. But was it anxiety or excitement? He couldn't tell. Sensenmann touched the flower and it turned its bloom toward them and then the screen went white, the word "SUCCESS" flashing across it in large green letters.

"What I've just given you," Sensenmann began, "is the key to a prosperous life. But even prosperity must be bound by rules. So I need you to listen closely."

Leben drew his lips into a tight line and leveled his gaze to show his sponsor that he was listening intently.

"This is an all-purpose medical program, a miracle cure of a sort. Any and every virus that can afflict someone, known and unknown, organic and cybernetic, can be overcome with this program. Equipped with this, you will become a well-known and respected doctor, an Augmentation Technician. Fame and fortune will be yours."

"What? Really?" Leben couldn't help but smile giddily at this. "That's incredible! I didn't know a program like that could even exist. How does it work? God, it must have thousands of lines of conditional codes. No, millions! But then to keep all those straight and functioning it must have—"

Sensenmann raised a hand to silence him, "I'm not finished."

Leben fell silent.

"It can heal anyone, but it cannot be used on everyone. Do you understand?"

His brows knit themselves together, "Not really."

Sensenmann sighed, "There are foundational rules which you must obey if you're to use this gift. You need not understand them, but you must obey them."

"Okay, yeah. I get it. So what are the rules?"

Sensenmann held his gaze for a moment before continuing, "The program comes with a contingent protocol. It will tell you whether or not you're allowed to use it on a specific patient by flashing an hourglass in your right eye. If the sand is at the top, then you have permission to install the program. If the sand is at the bottom, then you are not to install it."

"O...kay? But if it's a cure-all, then why can't I always use it?"

"Because those are the rules."

"But what if—?"

"Those are the rules."

Leben glanced down at his chip. He had long since grown accustomed to its presence, barely even noticing the rough edge where it met his nail. But in this moment, that wafer-thin motherboard felt heavier than it ever had before.