DATA COLLECTION

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The city was uneasy.

Though Gem did not trust her own assessment as wholly as he would have a few cycles prior. One had to scrutinize the system that gathers data just as much as the data itself. She was aware of her own internal processes.

And she, herself, the system collecting data.....was uneasy.

So, she reviewed her observations through a more critical lense.

Yes, programs were coming in groups from outside the city.

They were all of disparate designation, so obviously not built and activated together.

They came, generally low on energy. Their tired faces, dim lines, and sluggish movements attested to this.

Finally, they moved on foot. Sometimes from the direction of another city. But more often than not, they stumbled in from the Outlands. In numbers steadily increasing.

A term came to her mind, an old term that she hadn't used in a long time.

Refugees.

It wasn't a completely uncommon concept in the Grid. But, those that were refugees weren't usually so blatant about it.

Under his reign, CLU did not tolerate those without function. So, wanderers like these were usually repurposed, or simply destroyed.

Gem, having decided that she had gathered as much as possible from merely watching, hopped down from her perch atop a building. A few efficient jumps later she was on the ground. She drew up her hood and plunged into the sparse crowd below.

..........

Gem surveyed the cramped space. A bar, a few tables, all occupied..

She had followed a stream of the likely refugee programs to an energy canteen. They huddled in groups, avoiding eye contact. Probably scared someone would point out the programs that didn't belong.

Time to identify a target.

She disabled her cloak and brightened her lines just slightly. She drew several sets of eyes. Some of them wary. But a few appreciative. That was a good start.

She strutted up to the bar, meeting those appreciative gazes. Cataloguing them.

Good, she had the attention of about three potential refugees. Maybe four. Although frankly the fourth one looked in good shape, so probably a local.

She rested her elbows on the bar beside one of her potential targets. He had averted his eyes, but she could feel him attempting to ping her for attention.

She scanned him swiftly.

Data transfer program. The kind that tended to work at docks or rail stations. Except they were nowhere near any of Argon's transpo hubs. He also had minor scoring along his forearms, slight damage to his render from the feet upward. Not the kind of damage that came from a physical job. More the kind that came from hard living and being unable to receive treatment for the injuries. His light lines were especially weak too.

Gem signaled the bartender for a drink.

Though her current target was recharging with energy from the canteen, he was nowhere close to being re energized. His systems were just too run down.

She felt she had enough observations.

Now, to push.

The bartender served her drink, she swirled the blue light for a moment, propping her chin on her hand. She sighed heavily.

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