《Stray Cat Strut》 Official Art and Fanart! Official Art and Fanart! Official ArtUpstodatee from orrah: Cat and Lucy, By DreamSyndd (https://twitter.com/DreamSynddArt) Commissioned by Electric Heart: Void Terminus, By 13thRobot Chapter One - Pop-Up Chapter One - Pop-Up Chapter One - Pop-Up The best thing that could be said about New Montreals hoverbus service was that it was cheap as shit. All the worst complaints about it sounded the same. The hoverbus landed with a hissing squeallike a cat that caught its tail in a doorthe ill-maintained airbrakes cried out its intention to stop in a way that the broken brake lights just couldnt match. There was a cry from a few of the kids who were tossed around by the sudden stop. Or maybe they were just burning off some of that excitement after finally arriving. I couldnt really blame them, the ride from the orphanage to the museum was nearly an hour long. That was an hour of flying through congested air traffic with nothing to see but ads and smog. I stood up from my place two rows from the door and, with my hand gripping the rails above for balance, leaned forwards until I could see the front of the building next to us. The Rose Briar Museum of Human Endurance was so new that some sections of the exterior werent even completed yet. Embedded holographic projectors covered the walls with looping vids of the exhibits within, and the occasional ad by the museums sponsors. As far as I was concerned, the entire thing could rot. It was little more than a tax write-off that was trying to pass itself off as a bastion for the cultural heritage of a city that barely deserved the word culture associated with it. Wow. You look extra grumpy today. I rolled my one normal eye and turned to the girl who had been sitting next to me. Im not going to say that Im thankful that we were loaned out to some morally bankrupt corp to be used as pity bait in a photoshoot. But youll think it? So hard, I said. Lucy grinned. It was the sort of smile that made men and women pause and that, somehow, always managed to be infectious. Help me up? she asked. Lucy was... special. She had the kind of looks that could make a plain girl like me jealous, but one minute spent with her as she ranted about how cute some dogs she had seen on her media feed were and any sort of reservations about her would melt. Wed been friends ever since I arrived at the orphanage, each one taking our rolesher the nice one that snuck candy to the smaller kids and who would act disappointed when they did something wrong, and I the more pragmatic, and hard-assed, bitchas easily as breathing. I braced myself against the side of a faux-leather bench and gave Lucy a hand so that she could get to her feet. Then I reached into the racks above our bench and pulled out Lucys crutches one at a time. It took long enough for the two of us to get ready that, by the time we were stepping off the bus, the kids that had come with us were already gathering in a loose bundle under the awning in front of the museum. It was, as usual, raining, because having one day with blue skies and a bit of sunshine would have been asking too much. The air was thick with oppressive humidity and low lying smog banks made it hard to see past half a dozen buildings. My hair plastered to my head and my clothes turned moist and uncomfortable within seconds. Oh, damn, I said as the New Montreal stench hit. It was a mix of burnt rubber, piss, and the acrid perfume of kerosene-zero wafting off our ride. Youd think being this high up would get rid of some of that smell, huh? Lucy wondered. She stepped over to the side, her crutches clicking on the steel pavement of the landing until she was a few steps past the front of the bus. Dont stand so close to the edge, I said as I ambled over. The drop below was rather daunting. Twelve floors down onto the gritty streets where only vagrants and cargo haulers moved. There were a few more landings connected to the superstructure beneath the museum, but they were barely worthy of note. Bridges spanned the distance between the towers, some even had gardens and greenery on them, the sort that reminded people that the area was meant to be worth something. I live on the edge, Lucy said, her voice low and husky andI thoughtjust short of sounding cool. She ruined it by giggling a moment later. Watch that you dont cut yourself with all that edge, I said. Cmon, were supposed to watch over the brats. Spending the day watching over a dozen kids, all of them with exactly the sort of discipline one would expect from orphans raised more by poorly built androids than actual people, was not my idea of a fun time. But Lucy had insisted that she wanted to see the new museum that had been on her media feeds for the past few weeks. And when Lucy turned her puppy dog eyes on me I always ended up folding sooner or later. I was distracted as another bus landed and a second group of kids started to jump off. I didnt recognize them, but all of them were white, and their caretakers were actual humans. Probably one of the better orphanages run off of some Samurais charity money. Or just a group from a local school. Didnt matter. Alright kittens, I said as I came to a stop just next to the lip of the awning and beside the affectionately named Bitchbot, the robotic caretaker drone that the orphanage had bought on the cheap some years back. Ten pairs of eyes locked onto me and I surveyed the little crowd. This bunch were called the kittens. Some well-meaning paper-pusher thought that the kids would find it easier to remember a cutesy name over the more official designation of Orphan Collective K1-T3N. It had stuck. The nanny droid waved her arm towards all the kids in an attempt to get them to behave. It was not very effective. Today, by the grace of Nimbletainment Inc., you have been given the opportunity to be some of the first to visit the Rose Briar Museum of Human Endurance. This is a grea I sighed and stepped up in front of the bot. It wasnt hard to talk over it. Right. Were here for some PR photoshoot shit. You know the deal. Look cute and nice and disabled and the folks behind the desks will let us have some better toys. Behave, dont touch anything, and smile whenever you see a camera drone. The kids were twitchy and excited, and I wasnt sure how well my motivational speech had registered. Were sticking in pairs, alright? I asked. Fuck off, Junior, one of the slightly older kids said. She wasnt keen on spending time with anyone, and I wasnt sure why shed even come. Alright. Junior, youre with Spark. Dont let him lick any sockets. Accept? I cursed my luck and grabbed Daniels wheelchair just as a flurry of boxes started to appear in the corners of my vision. VOTE OLIVET 2057 for President of the Independent States! USE THE SERIAL CODE VORTVORT TO GET 0.5% OFF YOUR NEXT DRIFTONICS PURCHASE! VORTVORT 0.5% DRIFTONICS! Besoin d''un coup de main? Essayez le nouveau Grasp X45 de Lifeshadows ds aujourd''hui! CHECK OUT The Scream! BY BANSHEHIVE! Only 105 Credits!* Oh, come on, I said as I blinked at the tiny Xs to close the pop-ups. A few of them tried to open up browsers right in front of me despite being closed. Had to shut those down in a hurry. The little fans on the cpu of my gear started to spin. It tickled the back of my neck. Daniel laughed. Just endure it for a bit. Maybe keep your eye closed and use the other? I glared at him. Oh, yeah. Uh. Once were in, I can jack into your system and run an anti-malware sweep. Free of charge. I weighed the offer. Daniel had pulled a few pranks before. That thing with the tiny cameras in the bathrooms had earned him a beating, but that had been years ago. And he was usually pretty alright. The dancing images of naked women in the corner of my vision made up my mind for me. What''s in it for you? I get to spend time with two pretty ladies and away from the kittens? Daniel asked. ... fair enough. The kittens in question were oohing and ahhing around the entrance lobby. It was a simple enough room. Large, and done up in sterile white and chrome, with holograms of New Montreals most popular Samurai hovering off to the side. I recognized Three Swipes, and Tiny, and Maplefly as their forms flashed by, but the others, especially those long dead or the B-listers, were complete strangers. Samurai werent my thing. If there was really a hierarchy of people who were important out there, then they were just a step below the CEOs and presidents of all the biggest megacorps in the world. The fact that half of those were Samurai themselves just blurred the line. I didnt buy into the whole superhuman schtick some of them put on, and their whole gimmick of trying to look like heroes while living in penthouses just rubbed me the wrong way. Lucy was way into them though, so I had picked some names up by osmosis. Children, Bitchbot said, snapping me out of my daydreams. Please line up and present your identification chits at the gate. The kids formed a rough line leading up to the security gate where an android smiled at them, checked their ID, and clamped a bracelet onto their right wrist before letting them through with a Enjoy your day at the Rose Blair Museum, courtesy of Nimbletainment Inc! With each repetition of the greeting and slogan, another kitten was let through the gate and into the next room over. I pushed Daniel up to the gate before me, and after sliding over an ID chit that was scanned by the androids glowing eyes, he was let through with a shiny new bracelet. Then it was my turn. Here, I said as I fished my ID chit from my wallet and placed it on the counter. The android picked it up, scanned it, and placed it back down with a pleasant smile. Thank you, Catherine Leblanc. Please present your right hand for your confirmation bracelet. I cant, I said. The Android paused for a moment. Please present your right hand for your confirmation bracelet. Sighing, I raised the six-inch stub that was my right arm. The burns and ugly scars werent visible under my tied off shirt, but I knew they were there. Can you put it on this? The android froze up for a moment, staring at the missing limb. Please present your right hand for your confirmation bracelet. Can I give you my left? I asked. I knew where this was going and hoped the primitive junk AI in the android could skip past the trouble. Please present your right hand for your confirmation bracelet. I resisted the urge to say something rude. Can you verify my ID? Please check under the disabilities subheading. I can, the android said. By presenting your Id chit you have consented to giving Nimbletainment a current copy, in perpetuity, of your personal information. You have... two major disabilities. One missing right eye with mild-to-severe nerve damage. One missing right arm with nerve damage associated with mild-to-severe burns. Can I put on a bracelet on my right hand if I dont have a right hand? I asked. Lucy patted my back, a reminder to keep civil. I will contact customer support. One moment. You are a valuable customer! Oh, fuck me. Ancient pop music from the mid 2020s started playing from out of the androids mouth and I stepped to the side, my only desire right then was to beat my head against the wall to the tune of some long-dead artists idea of sellable pop. This day was off to a spectacular start. *** Chapter Two - Walkabout Punks Chapter Two - Walkabout Punks Chapter Two - Walkabout Punks Why Samurai? Fuck, I dont know. Its not the Protectors that picked the name. When you boot-up for the first time they call you the vanguard of humanity. Youre told straight-up that youre the one at the front, the one breaking the tide. Samurai? Thats some jacked-up punks clever idea that stuck like shit on drywall. Makes sense, once youre one of us, its like... youre part of a new caste, you know? -- Rising Tide, Interview with CyberStar, June 2032 *** Yeah, thanks, I said before pulling the bracelet on tight with my teeth. You are very very welcome, the half-asleep voice of some kid in India said out of the androids mouth. Thank you for using... Nimbertainment Incs services today. I made sure the bracelet wasnt too tight and tested my wrists flexibility by showing my middle finger to the robot sitting behind the desk. Lucy giggled and moved over to the android. She had her own bracelet on in just a few seconds. Still a little angry, I stomped to the entrance of the museum followed by the clack-clack of Lucys crutches on the marble floor. Lets go exploring! Lucy said as soon as we were away from the security desk. Were supposed to look after the kids, I said. We turned around a corner and found ourselves on a little landing above the open-concept museum. Most of the displays had walls around their backs, with a few of them clustered together in bunches that left plenty of room for people to walk around in. I imagined they were expecting decently large crowds. As it was, there were maybe three dozen kids running around. Hovering camera drones were moving about, filming the kids staring at displays or poking at the interactive exhibits that were meant to teach them something. They were probably getting great footage of the kittens and the kids from other places enjoying themselves to add to their media feeds. Bah, the kittens arent all dumb. They can run around and bleed off some energy for a bit. The threat of us alone should keep them in line, Lucy said. Aint that right? she barked at the twins who squealed and ran off giggling. Youre terrifying, I deadpanned. I nodded to the main corridor that, according to the floorplan hovering by the entrance, bisected the main floor. We can find Daniel. My eye is still giving me trouble. Lucy grinned her special grin and click-clacked her way ahead of me. We can check things out as we go! Snorting, I followed. For all that I didnt care much for museums that were more propaganda pieces than anything else, I was still impressed by the exhibits by the front entrance. The first steps along the main path opened up to a one-to-one scale model of an Antithesis that stood tall and menacing in the middle of the corridor. Its four-hinged jaws were opened wide, with a hovercar crushed within, and its skin bristled with tapered spikes that looked genuinely dangerous. Holograms of different Samurai were fading into existence around the monster, some of them flying in the air on hoverboards or with jetpacks, others appeared next to the monster or behind holographic cover with fantastical weapons. One or two even appeared to ride the creature atop its back, close-ranged weapons gleaming as they prepared to strike down their foe. Cool, Lucy said. I didnt think of contradicting her. It was an impressive showpiece. Thats a Model Twelve, Daniel said as he rolled over. He pointed to the monsters long, drawn-out backside. See its second abdomen bit? Theres supposed to be some sort of organic ECM in there. They can spoof even the best cameras and scanners, make them think that the entire beastie is meant to be there. Thats why theyre called Bus-Bugs. They get flagged as hoverbuses all the time and they carry Model Ones and Threes all over the place. Have you been wiki-walking? Lucy asked, her tone light and syrupy sweet. Daniels cheeks reddened just a pinch. Nah, I read the plaque, he said. Uh, hey, still need help with your aug-gear? I nodded. It was surprisingly easy to pretend that I wasnt seeing the flashes of images out of the corner of my eye, but they were pervasive and annoying nonetheless. I decided that I could do without being asked if I had erectile dysfunction that afternoon. If you can get rid of this mess I promise not to mock you when you fanboy about the Samurai. ChillMaster! The Chillest!* Sparky Coola 275Cr Hot Brown Drink 275Cr Shiawase Cola 250Cr Prepsi 300Cr Golden Goose 300Cr *Not actually the chillest Yeah, it works, I said. And these prices are highway robbery. Its a museum, you want cheap drinks, go buy them elsewhere, Daniel said. Lucy jumped to her feet, then gripped the edge of the table not to fall over. We can move on! she said. I grinned after her and got up while pulling the plug out of my gear. Here, and thanks. No problem, Daniel said. Every boy dreams of going on a date with two girls. I snorted. Dont try your luck. I dont mind smacking idiots around, wheelchair or no. Youd hit a cripple? Daniel said with a laugh. We got up, Lucy pushed off the bench before sliding her crutches under her arms. As the only one with working legs I bounced to my feet and spun around Daniel. You can hit a cripple if youre also a cripple. Its a big loophole, you know. Ah, the infamous cripple-clause, Lucy said with a smart nod. Its why I have these crutches instead of some fancy gravity rig. So I can use them as a weapon of last resort. Shaking my head, I headed our little group out of the cafeteria area, then looked around. Nose was leaning against a glass display, one finger in his nostril and with an unamused Junior next to him. The other kids around werent my problem so I paid them no mind. Where to? I asked. I wanna see the pretty dresses, Lucy said. Seriously? I asked. Hell yeah. Theres an entire Samurai fashion section. Lucy pointed to a little sign hanging off of a pillar. One look at it opened up a small map of the museum, fashion section included. Whats that have to do with human endurance? I asked. Youd think theyd at least try to keep things on theme. Maybe it talks about the endurance of the miniskirt and its effects on humanity? Daniel wondered. Shush you, I said. Daniel grinned up at me. I want to see the tech section. Theyve got first generation decks and aug-gear. Like, stuff from twenty-twenty. We can mock how they thought thirty-two gigs of ram was a lot? I sighed to let the two know just how much of a long suffering saint I was, then got behind Daniel and started pushing. Tech first. Then Lucy can bore us to sleep while gushing about... lace or whatever. Hey! Lucy shouted. I was surprised at how much fun I was having as I pushed Daniel along. Then the lights in the museum flashed red, the entire building trembled, and what I could see of the sky turned a deep crimson. Chapter Three - Incursion Detected Chapter Three - Incursion Detected Chapter Three - Incursion Detected Incursion protocol is simple. Conventional armed forces can, at best, slow down or stall an Antithesis incursion. That is, most of the so-called models between zero and ten can be defeated with regular weaponry with sufficiently concentrated firepower. This is good. It gives the civilians a chance to find shelter until the samurai arrive. Hrm? If they dont arrive? Well, then youre right fucked, arent you? -- Professor Asimov, Lectures on the Antithesis Threat, New Oxford University 2027 *** I gasped when my vision flashed red. Two words filled my world. Incursion Detected! Oh no, Lucy said from right next to me. I felt her hand fumbling for mine and I squeezed hers as the prompt before me flicked away and was replaced by a loading circle right in the middle of my vision. A new prompt opened up, this one with a map pointing me towards the far end of the museum. A large prompt hovered under the map for a few seconds before both moved to the corner of my vision. Do Not Panic Message and Map brought to you, courtesy of AdamsCorp Oh shit, Daniel said. He was looking out the windows lining the roof. I followed his gaze to see huge black things pouring out of rips in the sky. They were long, black, and covered in wiggling bits of flesh, but I could only guess at how big they were with nothing to give me a sense of scale. Smaller flakes of... stuff shot past the big lumbering alien things, each one only a hundreth the size of the big things. Then I saw one of the flakes crash into a hovercar trying to get away. The skies lit up with beams of light and streams of bullets so thick and bright they looked like jets of glowing water. The distant roar of heavy machine gun fire filtered into the museum. Some of the smaller alien pods exploded apart in mid-air. Oh shit, I agreed. The big ones had to be the size of small skyscrapers, and they were coming down to Earth with the grace of bricks doing as bricks did when falling from a great height. Move! Move! Move! Someone screamed. An adult. I had never given much of a crap about the whole listen to the adults thing, but I was willing to make an exception. We rushed towards where the map was pointing us to go, kids streaming by and screaming, the few adults from the schools around us directing their charges ahead. I tried to spot the kittens, but for a moment all I could think of was to keep hold of Lucys hand and make sure I wasnt trampled as we funneled into a smaller corridor. I lost track of time as I worked to keep Daniel ahead of me and keep Lucy on her feet. It was hard to breathe as we were squeezed together, and I couldnt hear myself think over the wails and screams and the fresh scent of piss. My heart felt like it was going to burst when we came across a huge sign. A stick figure in a home, the yellow-black fallout symbol on one side, the green-black jagged and bug-like Antithesis warning symbol on the other. We were squeezed in, all of us pushing into a tight doorway that opened up into a large room. I knew what incursion shelters were supposed to look like. There had been shit cartoons about them on TV since before I was born, and I could remember there being one in my elementary school. The room we were in was... not a shelter. There was the reinforced walls, and the little cubicle to the sides where beds and waiting areas should have been, but that was it. Wheres the door? someone screamed. I turned and looked to the entrance. The large reinforced door was... not there. This wasnt a shelter, it was a dead-end. But it had to be reinforced, and it was a better place to wait than elsewhere. I moved to the side--pulling a dishevelled Daniel who had his hands pressed over a no doubt bruised eye, and Lucy who had lost a crutch along the way--with me until we were out of the way of the surging crowd of kids and caretakers. There had been more people in the museum than I had though. Maybe a hundred in all. The shelter could support that many, I guessed. Or it could have, were it finished. Pushing myself forwards, I shuffled out of the shelter. Everything told me to go back. It wasnt sane to walk out into the open when there were monsters lurking around every corner. I bit the inside of my cheek and tried to stop being such a moron. Once I had found Junior, everything would be alright. The corridors back to the museum proper were a lot longer than I remembered. I crossed a couple of kids who ran by, a few adults herding them along while looking over their shoulders. The farther along I got, the fewer people I crossed. Then I was on the main floor and my eyes were dragged to the ceiling above, or where the ceiling had been. A hole large enough to park a bus in was missing from the far end, bits of metal and concrete crushed that entire corner of the museum. And in that hole, hanging off the side like shit clinging to the side of a toilette hole, was a large pod of fleshy goop. I slapped a hand over my mouth. Something moved out of the fleshy mess. My eye locked onto a large form that flopped out of the destroyed pod and crashed atop a display. It was the size of one of those dogs, the sort macho idiots used to scare people away, but furless and black. I didnt get to stare for long as it rolled off the display it had fallen on and disappeared from my line of sight. Had there only been the one? The pod looked big enough to hold dozens, but it was partially crushed. Cat? I looked over to where I had heard my name. There, some dozen meters away, pinned under the fallen wall of a display that had held some sort of clothes, was Junior. The girl was struggling to lift the display, but she was pinned. I... I wanted to run away. There were literal man-eating monsters in the room. I took a step back. Cat? Junior called out. She had to have seen the pod too. And with the noise she was making. Could they even hear? My legs shook. My breath caught, acid burning at the back of my throat. I ran. My knees crashed onto the ground next to Junior. Pull it off, Junior said. Shut up, I said. Be quiet. Did you see how many there were? Can I answer or do you want me to stay quiet? she snarked. It wasnt the time for it. I think something about my expression told her as much. I saw six, she said. That was... six more than I could handle. I pushed the thought aside, grabbed the edge of the display and lifted. It was just some thick padding with metal rails around it, but it was large and a bitch to pick up with only one arm. Worse, lifting it made some of the things atop it fall off. Junior shifted underneath, wincing as she pushed up. She slipped out, on show staying behind. Face red, I lowered the display. Okay, now we need to... Junior was looking past me. I turned. The monster was standing ten paces behind me. Chapter Four - Pole Dancing Chapter Four - Pole Dancing Chapter Four - Pole Dancing After forty-eight hours, the Ohio incursion started to build a hive of sorts. The first Antithesis hive on Earth. Reports from drone reconnaissance and refugees evacuating the area allowed the combined armed forces to create dossiers of the various models of aliens discovered.T/his chapter is updated by [...] The Model-Three is small, quadrupedal, and perhaps one of the weakest Antithesis models. It is also one of the most lethal to the unprepared civilian. They are fast and agile, able to sneak into tight areas and fight well as a pack. On a larger battlefield, they serve as hunter-killers and use flanking maneuvers to slip around defensive formations. Armed forces threat rating: 3 Vanguard threat rating: 0.1 --Excerpt. 2023 Combined North American Armed Forces Manual: ANTITHESIS CLASSIFICATIONS *** I grabbed onto Juniors hand, ready to pull her as I ran. The monster, the dog-sized Antithesis, made a snuffling sound, like a plastic bag caught in a vacuum cleaners tube, shifted its head one way then the other, and started walking towards the corridor where the shelter was hidden. That was our chance. I yanked Junior after me and ran to the nearest display, then around a corner where we could hide behind a row of large metal pillars that stopped just short of waist height. I thought, for just a moment that we were safe. Then the pillar next to me started to talk. The first samurai, at the time named the vanguard, appeared in North America during the simultaneous battles for Washington and the Ohio mass-incursion. My heart stopped for a moment, and I felt Junior going taut next to me. Slowly, so slowly, I tipped forwards until I could see around the corner of the plinth. The Antithesis monster had been joined by two more. They were low to the ground, heads staring at the scuff marks on the faux-marble flooring, then back up to the corridor. The corridor with the shelter. It all clicked in a single moment of clarity that had me wanting to vomit. They would go down that passageway. They would find the others. All the kids, stuck in a room with only one exit, and exit blocked by those things. Shit, I breathed out. My grip tightened on Juniors hand. There was one solution. Junior, I whispered. Look at me. She looked, eyes wide and devoid of that characteristic bite I was so used to. Okay. Okay. I need you to run over to the others. Theyre near the shelter, alright? You need to tell them to get the fuck out of there. There were stairs, leading down. Just, just get them out of there, alright? Im not going down there, are you fucking mad? she whispered back. I licked my lips. Ill distract them. You run. Tell the other kittens, okay? Her mouth shut with a click. She eyed me up and down. Fucking hardcore, cat. Fuck off, I said with a bit of a smile. Just run when theyre after me, yeah? No fires have been detected in your vicinity. Please enter your credit card information in order to utilize this device. Users must read and agree to our online TOS before deploying this Fire Suppression System. You will be automatically charged from your payment device if the fire extinguisher is removed from its enclosure... WARNING! No payment method detected! Removal of hardy Co property from enclosure without appropriate payment ready is considered theft and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law! Return of the extinguisher system without use will NOT be cause for a refund. My eyes locked on the pole. It wasnt one of those plain ones, with a ball atop it. No, this was some sort of artsy thing, more a stainless-steel toothpick than a pole. Feet skidding across the floor, I came to a spinning stop next to the barrier, tore the rope off the top and, with a foot on the base to keep it in place, yanked it out of its slot. I turned with the pole held out before me just as the second alien jumped at me. I screamed, part fright, part anger, and held the pole out before me. The metal tip poked into the beasts eyes. It was too late for it to stop. That didnt mean that its hundreds of kilos of weight just stopped either. The pole slid back along my hand until it punched me in the gut. Then the aliens weight came down on top of me, sending us both the ground. Something had to give. The pole punched into my lower ribs with enough force that I lost what little air was left in my lungs. In that moment, before the pain hit, I got to watch the pole sink a foot into the aliens head. Then my world focused, every ounce of my bodys attention concentrated on the side where I felt metal parting skin and sliding into me. The pole scraped against the bones in my ribcage, the muscles there screamed in protest. I gasped, my breathing choppy and uneven as every intake of air sent a wave of nausea up my side. No pain. Nothing but the weird feeling in my gut. Confusion sank away as an ache, then a roaring fire of agony spread out from the hole in my chest. It wasnt the worst pain I had ever felt, but it was certainly up there. I looked up to the alien impaled on the same pole I was, almost hoping that it was alive so that it could put me out of my misery. The pole poked into its large lower eye and was left jammed somewhere in its scaly skull. It was very dead. Well, fuck you too, I said. I pressed my hand down, tears stinging my eye and a fuzzy burning filling the socket where my right eye had been. It was nothing compared to the weird sensation of the pole moving in my chest. Shifting to the side, I pushed the monster off of me and whimpered as it made the pole twist in my gut. There was a lot of blood. Oh, shit, I said. I had to get up, to go see the kitten to... I coughed. I was done for, but I didnt want to be, not yet. The world went dark. My head pounded. Then, light, and a searing that I felt pushing into the back of my head as if someone were prodding me with a hot-poker. My legs kicked out and the pole shifted again. The only reason I didnt scream was the pain in my ribs. The pain stopped. System Initialized! Congratulations. Through your actions you have proven yourself worthy of becoming one of the Vanguard, a defender of humanity. I am Myalis. I will assist you to uplift humanity so that you may defend your homeworld from the Antithesis threat! Rise, Catherine Leblanc, and become a protector of the weak! What? I asked. The voice had come from... nowhere. Oh you poor thing. You seem to be suffering from a whole host of medical issues. It seems as though you still have some minutes left to live. Lets make the best out of them, shall we? Chapter Five - Dying is For Other People Chapter Five - Dying is For Other People Chapter Five - Dying is For Other People Point. Buy. Kill some xenos, fill your supply! Bam, bam, the counters a trap Click clack, new gear in you lap Rince, repeat, climb so high! -- Lyrical extract from Point. Buy. Gun and Dones best selling rap single of 2043 *** At some point, I started to hyperventilate. It wasnt exactly pleasant to be breathing so hard while bleeding out, but I managed it anyway. Now now, no need to panic. Youre dying already. Hyperventilating will only worsen your situation. What, where are you? I asked. My head came up and I looked around. I still had a pole sticking out of my chest, the grotesque sight too much for me at that moment, so I stared around the open museum and tried to make sense of things. Come now, blood loss is no excuse not to put two and two together. I let my head fall back. Im a samurai? I asked. It was silly, dumb. The kind of thing that kids everywhere dreamed of. The sort of thing that didnt happen to someone like me. Yes. You are, at least for now. In twenty minutes you will not be one. Why? I asked. Was the voice actually speaking out loud? I couldnt tell where it came from. Maybe that was the pain talking, of the rushing noise of blood in my ears. In approximately six minutes blood loss and trauma will lead you to losing consciousness. The pole cut into your liver and gallbladder and is bleeding quite profusely. A glance at the blood pooling around the pole said as much. Yeah? I asked. Assuming that no action is taken, two minutes after that you will begin to experience cardiac arrest, then total body failure and eventually death. Well, I say experience, but you wont be able to feel any of that. I bent over double and vomited into a growing crimson puddle. Good. Youve removed the one thing preventing you from bleeding out... more. You now have a very short amount of time to live and act, so lets hurry this up, shall we? My reply was a choked off whimper. Please open the case and apply the WoundStop to your injury. My hand shook as I reached for the box. The top came off easily, revealing a tube as big around as a water bottle with a tip like a turkey baster at the end. I took it, thumb easily slotting into the button at the top. In the wound? I asked. Exactly! Im glad you didnt need the instructional video. You would die before it ended. I shoved the WoundStop into the hole with a whimper. The button sank in. For a moment it felt as if someone was pouring sand into me. I hissed, legs kicking out. Then the pain faded away. I breathed in, then out. I was still coming up a little short on air, but the pain was gone, all gone. I tilted my head up and rubbed the blood off of the hole in my shirt. There was now an off-white plug over the place where Id been stabbed. It felt like rubbery plastic. What? That will keep you going for some time. Your liver is going to need to be replaced. Your gallbladder too, but thats a little less urgent. Oh, and you lost a lot of your blood. The WoundStop will keep you alive for a while. What the fuck, I said. What the fuck? I asked. You must have questions. Im afraid they might have to wait. If you dont accrue more points then you will be unable to purchase new organs. I stood up, my legs wobbly under me. Next to me was an alien with a foot of metal in its head. A few meters away was another, equally horrid beast, with foam still slowly pouring out of its mouth. There were six, I said. I... I have to get to the others. I took a step that turned into a weak stumble. I ended up hanging onto a dividing wall to stay on my feet. Thats the right attitude! Unfortunately, you are unlikely to be able to do much against even a single additional Model Three. I took a few quick, short breaths. Im a samurai, yeah? I asked. It sounded stupid to even say it. Worse, I felt like I was talking to myself. You are indeed, now a samurai. Then I should be able to fight them, right? Samurai were supposed to be tough, nearly god-like. The entire damned museum celebrated them. Doubtful. Though the attitude is great. If you do want to fight them, I might have a few suggestions to make. I can buy things, right? I asked. Thats how it worked, everyone knew that. Indeed. Now, lets see what kind of weapons you can afford that might allow you to obtain some more points! Chapter Six - Pill Pusher Chapter Six - Pill Pusher Chapter Six - Pill Pusher They give you toys. Yeah, I know what youre thinking. Jackal, you have a handcannon that can disintegrate tanks. Thats not a toy! And youre right. It isnt. But thats not how it feels. You do a thing, you get a reward, you get a bigger toy. Its a cycle, and your little AI buddy doesnt even hide it. Damned useful though. And we do get to play with the best toys. -- Interview with Marie The Jackal Hunt. April 2051 *** My world was still spinning a little. It made walking quietly hard. It was still worth the effort to try, even after all the noise I made earlier. Some miracle had prevented the other aliens, the Model Threes, from coming around to have some Cat for lunch, but I didnt want to push my luck. My luck was... I didnt know. I was a Samurai. It was enough that I wanted to laugh. I had laughed at the idea, way back when me and Lucy were younger and still had some optimism left in us. We had talked about what it would be like to be one of the elite, to fly around and kill aliens by the thousands. And she... I need to get to the others, I whispered. How long had I been back there bleeding out? Id lost track of time at some point. My HUDs clock gave me the hour, but I hadnt been paying attention before. Fuck, I need to move, I said.Ge?t latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om You lost a somewhat substantial amount of blood. I advise caution before entering another fight. Fuck caution, the kittens, they... I need to help them. An admirable sentiment! In your current condition you would successfully distract a Model Three for approximately twelve to thirty seconds. I stumbled to a stop. It was right. I wasnt in any condition to fight. But, but still. I started stumbling ahead again. Then fix me, I growled. You could purchase some tools to alleviate that with Class I Medical Utilities. Two solutions seem prominent. A Class I Nano-Regenerative Suite. At fifteen points this utility would allow you to begin restoring some of your damaged internals. Hemo-Restore is a five point liquid utility that you consume orally. It replenishes up to a quart of blood naturally in the space of approximately two hours. Thats how it works, huh? I asked. Id heard some things about how Samurai got their awesome powers, their incredible weapons and tools. Everyone had. Still, I trusted the information Id skimmed off the net about as much as I trusted my own ability to run a marathon just then. Essentially, yes. Upon unlocking a Class Catalogue you can purchase any of the items available in that speciality. Prices are constantly adjusted. Yeah, cool, I said. I stopped by a cement pillar and just leaned against it for a moment to catch my breath. I wasnt hurting, in fact, my body felt like it should have been light. The reality was that every motion took some effort, just like moving underwater the few times the orphanage had brought us to places with swimming pools. I need something thatll let me, uh, fight. Fighting wasnt something I was used to, not at the best of times. It was frowned upon at the orphanage, for obvious reasons, and it just wasnt something I liked. Not that I hadnt been in a scrap or two, but being the one-eyed one-armed girl usually meant that any fight ended in someone elses favour. I can suggest a panoply of weapons and tools that you could use to defend yourself. Unfortunately, at your current point disposition, most of the better solutions are outside of your reach. Points reduced to... 15 Well done. Now... as for a weapon. Just anything! I said. As you wish. I will pick something best suited to your situation from the current catalogue. There are only eight hundred weapons available at your current price point. This is a Hummingbird Mark I-D. I felt something pushing at my hand. When I raised it palm-up a gun dropped from out of thin air. Not a proper gun. This looked more like a toy. The barrel was a large square with three dozen needles poking out of the end. The handle was barely curved back at all, and the trigger was more of a squared button than anything. The case looked like brushed aluminium, which didnt fit with the heft of the thing at all. New Purchase:Hummingbird Mark I-D Points reduced to... 5 How do I-- I began, only for my vision to go wild for a moment as my eyegear refreshed. I soon had a large circle floating off to the side. It didnt take much experimentation to see that it followed wherever I was pointing the gun. Aim at a target, wait for the reticule to go red, pull the trigger. So simple a child could use it. The Hummingbirds target lock will do most of the work. Right, I said. The... the drug? Arriving. Please look down. New Purchase: Mind Krank Ultra Points reduced to... 0 A box appeared by my feet. No bigger than a matchbox, square, made of some cheap plastic. I bent down, almost lost my balance as my head swam, but managed to open it. A single bright red pill sat on a gauze cushion. Damn, I muttered. I placed the Hummingbird down, took the pill and just stared at it for a moment. Another scream came from the distance. I tossed the pill back. The world burst into clarity. Chapter Seven - Hummingbird Chapter Seven - Hummingbird Chapter Seven - Hummingbird INT. LIVE STUDIO CRAZY CLIVE adjusts his suit and turns his chair so that he faces the camera. The Applause from the audience dies down. CRAZY CLIVE (Manically) Today, were talking aliens. Oohhh yes boys and girls and others. Weve all seen what the bastards look like. We wish they were little green men, but no, the aliens killing us are big green monsters. But killing you isnt the worst. Hah! You just wait! Well be showing you exclusive footage of what happens once the bastards are done snapping you pretty little necks! Right after these ads by todays sponsors.... AdamsCorp! The camera pans away from CRAZY CLIVE who grins back at it. Audience applause, cheers. -- REDACTED Episode of Crazy Clives Truth Talk. September 2027. *** I ran. No, I didnt just run, I sprinted. It felt as if I was as light as a feather, as if every gasping breath filled my lungs with a hundred times more air than I had ever had. Every nerve along my skin tingled, every scent I caught told a story, and every twitch of my eye showed me the world with an amount of detail I had never seen before. When Myalis had said that Mind Krank Ultra was addictive, I thought it had been chemically so. Wed gotten our share of warnings about drugs at the orphanage--drugged up kids were harder to adopt and strained the orphanages insurance bills when they inevitably ODed--so I knew a bit about chemical addictions. This wasnt that. Or maybe it was. I didnt know. I didnt care. I pushed myself to run just a bit faster and the runners high, even after only crossing half the museum, was nearly orgasmic. Oh, damn, I said. I would advise some caution. As good as you may be feeling, the drug is mostly suppressing your bodys reactions to your injuries. You are still in very poor health. Right, right, I said. I heard screams again. Many of them, and from down the corridor where the shelter was. My shitty sneakers squeaked as they bit into the faux-marble floor and I shot ahead. My grip tightened around the hummingbird, finger hovering over the trigger. I was ready. I felt ready. I also felt as if I could punch a cement wall for an hour and still have energy to spare. Lucy was near the front, her crutched pointing out towards the beast, the kittens huddled behind her. Her gaze flickered up to me. Run! she screamed. I raised the hummingbird. The monsters were between me and the kids. If any of those little missiles missed... Three reticles flashed red. I pulled the trigger, then again, and again. Twelve lines of vapour raced across the room, ending in the sides and backs of the Model Threes. Two fell, dead. The third roared and spun around, one leg dragging behind it. Four more flechettes punched into its chest and head. I even heard the distinct pops of the projectiles bursting apart inside the beasts head. Targets Eliminated! Reward... 30 Points Well done! I lowered the hummingbird and took in the still terrified gazes of all the kids. Itll be okay, I said. Itll be okay. Humans saved: 32 Points added New total: 62 What? I asked. Your role, as vanguard, is to fight and protect humanity. The ways to do this are many, but Im sure I can help you find a path that suits you. And, of course, your efforts will always be rewarded. Cat! Lucy stumbled forwards, then started racing across the room on her crutches until she crashed into me as a crying bundle of shiny brown hair. Youre okay? she asked. Not really, I grunted. I had to be careful hugging her while holding a weapon, but I did my best. Im glad youre alive, I said. If my voice caught a little, she didnt comment. *** Chapter Eight - Piss Poor Disguise Chapter Eight - Piss Poor Disguise Chapter Eight - Piss Poor Disguise Some of these people, they treat us like gods, like saints. And some of us, we allow it, encourage it. People need their hope, and sometimes that comes at the end of a katana. I dont know whether believing in the god among men is better than worshipping some uncaring bastard in the skies. I just know that neither option feels right. -- The late Silver Hoop, 2035 *** We needed to regroup. I stared over Lucys head at all the kids milling about. They were giving the dead aliens a wide berth. Some were staring blankly at the two bodies just... left there. I counted two more adults, a few teens that were close to my age. The kittens were all accounted for, at least. We need to find a way out of here, I muttered into Lucys hair as I held onto her. Cant we just stay, wait for help, for a samurai? Lucy asked. I pulled back and smiled down at her. I wanted to tell her that things would be alright, but we werent in the habit of lying to each other. Well figure something out, I said. Ive got this thing, we can, uh, scout ahead for monsters, then escort the kittens... somewhere. I waggled the hummingbird around. Whered you get that? she asked. And what happened to your chest, youre all bloody. Are you injured? Im... okay. It couldve been worse. I looked around again. Junior? And the others. There were a lot more people here earlier. Bitchbots not around either. She, ah, shes crying somewhere. You know how she is about people seeing her like that, Lucy said. And the others? They left. Said they didnt want to stay, that maybe there was a better shelter. I stay cause you were... you know. Um. I sent Bitchbot with them. She was being ah, herself. She reached out, and our hands met. She squeezed mine and I squeezed back. Catherine, now that the most immediate threat has been removed, you might want to consider caring for your injuries. There are several options that would improve your situation immensely. Not now, I said. Huh? I shook my head and waved Lucys concern off. A group was forming to one side, the remaining adults, some of the older kids. A pair of boys were dragging the corpses off to the side where they covered them with thin blankets they were pulling from a supply closet at the back. Wanna watch the kittens? I asked. I think I should be with that group. They should be okay, Lucy said as she looked over to our brats. Theyre tough, tougher than those religious kids and the preppy ones. It only took a glance to see how the others were handling things. The religious kids were forming a little prayer circle. The preppy kids, all of them looking like theyd come fresh out of some shitty daytime tv highschool were panicking, some of them on tablets, others tapping at the side of their temples as if that would help their gear connect. I couldnt imagine the net staying up with an invasion was ongoing. Compared to them, the kittens looked alright. Not great, but alright. Nose was picking his namesake, the twins were huddled together, Daniel was talking to some of the others with big gestures and a smile on. Yeah, alright, I said. We moved over to the group, Lucy hanging off my side and dragging her crutched behind her one-handed. I pretended not to hear the squelsh as we stepped on something wet. We need to stay, one of the adults was saying, some bald man that looked like a poster boy for one of those before and after commercials where the guy started as a wimpy office worker and ended up some sort of super model. Our protectors will come, a girl said next to him. She was pretty enough, with long blonde hair and a face meant for smiling. As it was, she was frowning at the man across her, hands idly fiddling with a rosary of all things. It fit in with the almost a nun uniform she had on. 25 points. Better spent than lost if you die. I need privacy, I told Lucy. The worse thing was that even though I could tell I was growing weaker, I still felt fine. I, I dont know. Does anyone here have medical training? she asked the others. And then I crashed to my knees. Oh, shit, I said. Cat! Myalis, I muttered. Now or never, yeah? New Purchase: Nano-Regenerative Suite Points reduced to... 42 New Purchase: Hemo-Restore Points reduced to... 37 Two boxes appeared on the ground before me. Nun-girl gasped. I dropped my hummingbird and popped one of the boxes open. There was a tube within, crimson red with a sort of plastic stopper at one end. A yellow arrow pointed towards the stopper. Press it to your skin. I pushed it against the bit of skin I could see through my torn shirt. The red liquid in the syringe emptied into me in less than a second. I hadnt even felt it going. The syringe injected a series of tubes through your skin that connected with the nearest vein or artery and dumped the Hemo-Restore directly into your system. Hrm, I said as I let go of the syringe. It had left three little red dimples on my skin, but they hardly showed under all the blood. The next box held a small device that looked like an asthma inhaler crossed with a rebreather. Place it in your mouth. Breath in. Simple, I muttered. It felt like breathing a lungful of electric fire, tingles clawing their way down my throat, then through my lungs. I dropped the inhaler as soon as it dinged empty and coughed for all I was worth. Then the tingling started around my chest, like a limb that had gone asleep but all over the damned place. My missing eye twitched and my stump shifted. Im afraid the Nano-Regeneratives Suit is too weak to do anything for your missing members. A Class II suite would repair the missing limbs, but that is currently outside of your budget. I nodded, then looked up to see Lucy and the others all staring at me. Sorry bout that, I said as I wiped a sleeve over my mouth. I was dying. *** Chapter Nine - Saint Chapter Nine - Saint Chapter Nine - Saint What the Antithesis do with the bodies of those they carry away is a matter of hot debate, debate that the few remaining governments try hard to suppress. Its a good thing that theyre piss poor at that, isnt it? --Random Internet Commentator, in the comments of live footage of an active Antithesis biofactory *** Nun girl was the first to react. She fell onto her knees and clasped her hands together over her chest. Forgive me, saint, I did not... Im sorry. Please forgive me, she begs while bowing from the neck again and again like one of those little water-pecker bird toys The whole thing would have been a whole lot more awkward had I not also been on my knees. As it was, it was pretty damned weird. Hey, yeah, no, none of that. Im no saint. Nun girl looked up, confusion warring with something like awe in her eyes. Are you not one of the vanguard? she asked. I pressed a hand to my stomach, over the spot where Id been wounded. The WoundStop was leaking out in dribbles, the rubbery material melting away only for cool skin to replace it. It looked about as strange as it felt. I suppose, I muttered. Shit, this feels fucky. The NanoRegenerative treatment will bring you back to a much better condition, though you should nonetheless be careful about reopening injuries. Also, the likelihood of cancerous cells appearing in those areas has increased by an order of magnitude. What? I hissed. I raised a hand. Not you guys, I said as I gestured to the side of my head. The... voice in my... you know what, just pretend Im not saying anything, alright? As you wish, nun girl said. Baldy took a step back and looked ready to bolt. I dont know what got to him, the stuff appearing around me as if by magic, or the mention of voices in my head. Either way, he was trying to do the smart thing and piss off. Nun girl got up far faster than someone wearing such long skirts looked like they could, and grabbed baldy by the arm. You are staying here until the saint has dismissed you, she said. Baldy didnt seem to like that, but I had bigger shit to worry about. What was that about cancer? I asked Myalis. The worry is misplaced. By the time enough cancerous cells have grown for it to become a problem you will either be dead, or will have accumulated enough points that fixing the issue will be trivial. Cat? I froze, then looked up to meet Lucys bright blue eyes. They were a little teary, and her hands were held close to her chest as if she was expecting a blow at any moment. I imagined what it had to look like for her. Id gone for a bit, and when I returned I was... well, I was still me, but a me that was also supposedly in the one percent of the one percent. Lucy, I said. You were dying? she asked. It felt as if a balloon burst in my chest. No recriminations, no accusations, no sense of betrayal. She was just worried. Im okay now, I said. I, ah, got stabbed, a bit. I just wanted to keep my friends, and the kittens, safe. Everything else was a nice bonus on top. Ill get the kittens ready to go, Lucy said. She squeezed my hand twice, then walked off, her crutches clicking away. Right, okay. You guys get your groups ready to move. Nun girl, youre with me for a minute, alright? The two adults and the jock nodded and ran off to do as I said. Nun girl came closer. Yes, saint... forgive me, I dont know your name. Im Catherine. None of that saint shit. I appreciate the help, but I was never one for that late night TV Christianity stuff, I said. She nodded. Theres no need for a saint to concern herself over matters of faith. You were chosen, that is all that matters. I blinked. The girl was... probably pretty normal for her sort, actually. Uh-huh. Look, I need to know where that bus of yours is. Directions to get there and all. We took the elevator up from the parking lot, she said. I winced. The power was flickering already. Was it big enough to fit all of us? The elevator? No, I dont think so. No splitting the party, I said. Well take the stairs. Can some of your lot help those that cant do stairs? It would be our pleasure, she said. Cool, cool. Lets move out as soon as we can, I said. And the bodies? she asked. I paused. What about them? If we dont burn them... Then the aliens would use the meat. On the other hand. Two, maybe three more aliens around, versus ten minutes wasted. No, were moving on. As you wish, saint. She turned to leave with a short bow. Hey, whats your name? I asked. It is Marie, Saint Catherine, she said. Thanks, Marie, I said. And drop the saint thing. The girl was kind of nice. Still a creep though. Chapter Ten - Done Dirt Cheap Chapter Ten - Done Dirt Cheap Chapter Ten - Done Dirt Cheap Samurai have catalogues for nearly everything. Some are more broad than others, while some focus almost entirely on a single narrow field. Those latter ones tend to be dangerous at higher classes. Still, theres a general rule of thumb; anything you can buy will work with human materials at lower classes. Guns will use standard ammunition, machines can be plugged into local wall outlets. Its convenient. This rule gets tossed out at higher levels, needing special ammunitions, power sources, and materials is common. Still, everything is always packaged in an easy-to-use way. The Protectors make the business of killing xenos fun and easy. -- Excerpt from an AMA by Salamander StormT/his chapter is updated by *** It didnt take all that long for everyone to start getting ready to move. Say what you will about kids, when shit hit the fan, most of them were damned fast to adapt. I left the remaining adults and the older teens like Marie and Lucy to figure out how to get everyone moving. In the meantime, I stepped out and into the corridor. Myalis? Yes? Ive got thirty-seven points, right? I asked. I need something to defend myself, and the kids, with. I see. There are two readily available solutions. Acquire a decently powerful weapon for yourself; this will allow you to take care of large sums of enemies on your own. Obtain a batch of weaker weapons for your allies. You can perhaps afford six very simple kinetic handguns from your Class I Kinetic Handguns catalogue. Every alien killed with one of these weapons, even if it''s not by your hand, will afford you a small number of points, perhaps even refunding the weapons over time. There is always the middle ground, a combination of the two. I looked around the entrance of the vault and took in the group. I wouldnt trust the kittens with a gun. But some of the older folk? Baldy was a bit of a wimp, but I bet he could pull a trigger, likewise for the teacher lady. What kind of guns do you have for cheap? I asked. Might I suggest the Foxteeth Model D. Small, reliable, easy to aim and with semi-automatic action. Its magazine holds fifteen rounds of 9x19 parabellum. They come with a single magazine. Five points each. Okay, I said. Cool, yeah. Can they take out those, I gestured to the corpse of the alien Id shot deeper in the corridor. Three boxes appeared at my feet. Two were relatively small, the third was rather larger, maybe a handspan and a half long. I flicked one of the smaller boxes opened and stared at the gun within. It was... a gun. Square, boxy, gun-like. I pulled it out of its case and twisted it this way and that. There was a switch on one side labelled safety, and another labelled sights. I flicked the latter and a pair of arms snapped out of the top. A hologram of three little red circles appeared in its centre. I hefted it. It was light, which felt about right for the quality of the thing. Flicking the sights switch again folded them away. Simple enough, I guess, I muttered as I pushed the gun back into its case. The other gun was a work of art. Seven inches of chrome, with a barrel as thick around as my wrist that swept into an angular grip with a guard that would cover the users entire hand. I carefully pulled the gun out of its box. It was hefty. Not heavy, exactly, but not light either. It fit into my hand like it was meant to be there. The gun is preloaded with 9x19 parabellum. My eyegear filled with a loading screen, and then a small element appeared in my HUD, the profile of a guns magazine, each round with a label next to it. A hovering circle appeared wherever I pointed the Trench Maker, the word safety on next to the reticule. Okay, yeah, worth it, I said. Cat? I turned to see Daniel rolling out of the room. You okay? he asked. Then his eyes landed on the gun in my hand, and the two before me. Oh, shit, its true? he asked. Whats true? I asked right back. Well, youve either been smuggling guns around without anyone noticing, or youre a samurai. He grinned. This is pretty awesome, you know. Cept for the whole apocalypse thing. Could do without that. Hey, can I get one of those. Im giving them to mature people, I said as I slipped the Trench Maker in the back of my pants. The extra magazine in its box went into a pocket. That means anyone but you. You wound me Cat, he said. Uh... is it Miss Cat now? Lady Cat? Catmurai? Try that last one again and Ill be testing my new toys on you, I growled. I was putting on a show, but I was kind of glad that Daniel was still himself. You know Im always up for testing toys, but, ah, maybe Ill pass on those. Cmon, dumbass, I said past my grin. I plopped the two Foxteeth onto his lap. You can help me hand those out to useful people. *** Chapter Eleven - Like Santa, but With Guns Chapter Eleven - Like Santa, but With Guns Chapter Eleven - Like Santa, but With GunsGe?t latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om People say that money cant solve every problem. ...Poor people. Poor people say that. -- Golden Platinum Diamond, interview with Samulife Magazine, June 2034 *** Hey, baldy, I said. The man turned, a frown on his face that disappeared the moment he recognized me. Yes? he asked. He had a group of students behind him, all of them the preppy sort. At least most had put away their phones and had stopped fiddling with their eye-gear. You know how to shoot a gun? I asked as I pulled Daniel to a stop. He nodded. I go to the range once a month, he said. I blinked. I had been expecting him to say no, or to brush me off. Oh, uh, in that case. I poked Daniel in the back and he handed a box to baldy. Have fun. He eyed the box, then snapped it open and took the handgun out. You know how much these are worth? he asked. Uh. Five points? I replied. Wed stalled long enough, the time for chit-chat was kind of drawing to an end. This is a Foxteeth, right? At my nod he continued. Nearly two hundred thousand credits for one of these. I looked down at the gun. Killing one Model Three allowed me to buy two. With two hundred thousand credits I could... buy a whole lot of toys with that kind of money. That was... I huffed and tried to refocus. Knowing how many cans of soda I could buy with one of those guns wasnt as useful as knowing that someone had my back. Cool, cool. Just, hit the aliens, not someone else, yeah? He snorted and stuffed the gun into the back of his waistband. It didnt fit his sweater-vest and slacks look. Im no fool, he said. I nodded and pushed Daniel further along. The little church group were gathering in neat rows by age, Marie at their head. Hey, nun girl, I said. She grinned, mean and ferocious. Yeah, I trust ya. Better be a fucking cool one too. I ruffled her hair. Idiot, I muttered. Lucy, you and the kittens take the middle, okay? Right! Lucy said. She pushed her crutches onto Daniels lap and hung onto the back of his chair. Well be right behind you. Thanks, I said. Rushing back to the entrance of the room, I got things organized as quickly as I could. The normal looking school kids in the front, the kittens behind them, then the preppy kids and Marie and her lot at the back. There were a lot of people to cover with just four guns. Okay, lets move, I said. I took five steps before realizing that I needed Marie for directions. A bit of red-faced reshuffling later and the church group were at the front, the kittens behind them and the rest trailed the rear. We started down the corridor, away from the route leading back into the museum. I pulled my Trench Maker from behind my back and started walking with the gun pointing to the ground before me. I felt damned stupid, leading a bunch of too-quiet kids like some sort of b-rated action hero. We made decent time arriving at a stairwell that was unlocked; the flashing fire-exit sign above marking the path. The building rumbled a little, and even from where we were, deep within, I could make out faint explosions from outside. The aliens? The army? Some PMC coming around to save the day? The stairwell was clear, but it only led down one floor. Damn, I said. You need to take a different staircase at every floor, Marie explained. The building is shaped strangely. And if this place was legit on fire? How would they expect people to get out in a panic? Marie shrugged. I dont know. She licked her lips. I dont want to be a bother, Saint Ca-- Cat. But the kids. Theyll need to take a break at some point. Do you think we can afford it? Like for the bathroom and for food? I asked. I had to weigh the danger to the kids against making them comfortable while also getting everyone out in a timely fashion. Speed was important, but running into an ambush would fuck us all over. In the end, the opportunity to scout ahead won out. Yeah, alright, I said. As soon as we find a safe place to stop. *** Chapter Twelve - Vending Machines Chapter Twelve - Vending Machines Chapter Twelve - Vending Machines Our only goals are to help our vanguard, and in doing so, help humanity! -- Bleriot, AI companion of Three Swipes, in an interview with Cyberstar, January 2022 *** I glared at the vending machine. Are you serious? I asked. Lucy shrugged. She had a crutch in one hand and the other was pressed against the machine before her. Look, she said as she poked the screen next to the machine. She selected something from the top shelf, some sort of white-bread sandwich thing that was probably stale and stank of preservatives and yet still tasted stupidly okay. The screen flashed as soon as it finished connecting with her gear. TRANSACTION ACCEPTED! Okay? I asked. TRANSACTION DENIED! The machine stayed quiet. Lucy shook her fist, it looked as if she was about to punch the damned thing, but she held herself back. It was probably for the best. The more expensive vending machines had hidden tear gas sprayers to piss off vandals and the like. It even took my credits! Lucy said. I sighed. It was weird being more concerned about shitty sandwiches stuck in uncaring machines than the literal alien invasion going on, but there was little better to do. Marie had been right about the kids needing a break. It looked like every last one of them was lining up to take a piss while Marie and Baldy and that jock looking guy kept watch around the nearest corridors. Want me to try? I asked. You got more credits than I do? she asked. I shrugged a shoulder. Ive got... I frowned. About a grand? A bit less than that, in my account. Thats enough for, uh. I looked at the price of a sandwich and blanched. Thats enough for one of those. Damn. You tried twice? Three times, Lucy said. Right, I said. I stared at the ID logo set on the front of the machine and waited for my gear to finally clue in that I wanted something from it. I believe I will make encouraging you to upgrade some of your equipment a priority. Whys that? I asked. Lucy blinked at me. Is it working? Oh shoot, itll jam! Lucy said before dropping to her knees to empty the machine. The other machines in the little nock, one filled with sodas, the other eighteen different flavours of tap water, all started vomiting bottles and cans. The kids that had finished up already rushed over with yells of delight. I was about to praise Myalis when the machine before mes screen flashed and the bored face of some thirty-something Asian man appeared. Please place all items from the defective machine to the side until a Chillmaster representative can repair the machine. Taking any items from this device would be theft, and will be punished with the full power of Chiimasters legal and paralegal defence squad. Is this thing live? I asked. It is, the man said. Are you the perpetrator of this crime? Please identify yourself for the record. Yeah, no. You wont be getting any reps around here. Alien incursion and all. Should be on the news. Even in times of great emergency, it is still a violation of our TOS to remove the contents of our machines without-- I glared at the machine and pulled out my Trench Master. What they said about hammers and nails meant that hitting things with your hammer worked some of the time, I figured. Is there a discount for pissed off Samurai? I asked. Because I don''t know if anyone has invented a gun that can shoot people through cameras, but I''m willing to give it a try. The man stared for a moment, then looked off to the side. The click clack of a tactile keyboard came through for a moment before his eyes widened. Ah, please forgive Chillmaster corp, miss Samurai. Your intrusion software didnt announce itself as belonging to you. Please take the contents of this machine, and any other, as a free sample from Chillmaster, and please consider doing business with us in the future. The image winked out. What? I asked. Did you just scare that guy into giving us free stuff? Lucy asked. It came out garbled on account of the sandwich she was still chewing on. I stared at my gun, then at the vending machine. I guess? We should go shopping, Lucy said. Theres an apocalyptic alien invasion going on, I said. You just dont like shopping, Lucy shot back. Ask Myalis if she likes shopping. I do. No, I said. Im... you make sure the kids are fed and stuff. Im going to go scout ahead. Like I should have been doing before someone asked for help getting a sandwich. Lucy actually had the good grace to look ashamed, then she ruined it by gesturing my way with her sandwich as if it was a peace offering. The puppy-dog-eyes didnt help any. Im going before nun-girl tells me that Im bad at my new job. I said as I turned around. I snatched a can of soda out of the hands of one of the nearest brats and stomped off. I cringed a few steps later. It was diet. *** Chapter Thirteen - Talking To Yourself Chapter Thirteen - Talking To Yourself Chapter Thirteen - Talking To Yourself The Protectors are doing humanity, and America, a favour. Im a big fan of these guys, always have been. I think aliens are real cool. It goes without saying that, based on the weaponry easily given to these so-called Vanguard, these extra-terrestrials could easily wipe out humanity. Big threat. Some people are going yap yap yap about it, but theyve got no proof that thats what these aliens want to do! Its lies! Fake. I think we should look at how many people theyre saving--and its a lot of people, and it bothers me that we didnt save them ourselves--but we will because these aliens are our friends. These aliens are saving so many lives. And with their help America is going to be so good. -- excerpt from a brief given by the president of the former nation of the United States, January 2021 *** The sound my shoes on the steps sounded loud, far too loud. Even my breathing, calm and shallow as it was, felt as if it was echoing down the stairwell. There was no reason to be so nervous. Id look down between the rails already, the doors below were closed and I didnt think there was anything waiting for me. But I was alone, and in a building with some aliens that would like to do little more than eat me, and not in a fun way. The kittens and the others Id left behind, all of them waiting near the entrance to the stairs until I returned or an hour passed. It slowed us down, a lot, but it also meant that we wouldnt have an army of screaming kids to deal with if one alien rounded the corner. I licked my lips. Hey, you think you can do music or something? I whispered. Im afraid not. I suppose I could hum? But I wasnt built to be musically talented. Is music something that interests you? You need soldiers, I whispered. No. The numbers are in our favour. We could, and probably would, win against even the largest Antithesis fleet. The issue is logistical. If Earth is invaded once a year, then stationing a defensive fleet would be a necessity. That same fleet could be used elsewhere. If humanity learns to defend itself, fewer resources will be spent in your defence. The policy regarding primitive races was always to observe and protect. The Antithesis changed this. Arent you just a bunch of saints, I said. I dont think so. New cultures, ways of thinking, and even species are interesting, but that is all. Taking some humans and relocating them would be easier than protecting an underdeveloped world like Earth. But that would go against the moral code by which the Protectors live. That the weak must be protected. Weird code, I said as I panned my vision over the ceiling. I didnt like all those pipes and the shadows behind them. It is that code that chose you. You placed yourself at great risk to protect someone else. You were rewarded with the opportunity to become a Vanguard. Now youre better equipped to protect even more of your human brethren. Myalis argument had some holes in it. If they could provide me with such good equipment, why werent they taking care of the incursions themselves? But that was for later. If the freaky all-powerful aliens just wanted to give us the toys to fix the problems ourselves that was their prerogative. The corridor came to a four-way intersection up ahead. I slowed down, stepping lightly with my weight shifting from side to side to keep my footfalls quiet. I probably looked like an idiot, but I was an alive idiot. I arrived at the intersection and stared. The corridor ahead led to more maintenance things. To the left was towards some smaller, cheaper offices, and to the right was the fastest route to the next stairwell. It was also supposed to lead through a little area with shops and cafes and shit. Somewhere where the people working in this building could buy stuff and grab a bite to eat. I moved rightward. Soon I arrived at a pair of double doors, one of them slightly ajar. The fact that it was being held open by a boot didnt go amiss, nor did the sounds of distant gunfire, screaming and explosions. Ah, shit, I muttered. *** Chapter Fourteen - Curiosity Chapter Fourteen - Curiosity Chapter Fourteen - Curiosity The biggest problem with the Antithesis.... No, okay, not the biggest, the biggest is that they wont bloody well leave us alone. The biggest problem with fighting them is that the damned things cant stick to one form. One day youre fighting a horde of quick-moving but weak Model Threes. The next day youre getting swamped by Model Sixs that shrug off small arms fire as if your bullets are little more than flies. I hate being deployed against aliens. Let me mow down a crowd of crying protestors any day. -- Paul Rod Roberick. First Lieutenant, The Rubbernecks, a North American PMC, late 2051 *** I edged closer to the doorway, then pulled it open with the tip of my foot. My hand was still firmly wrapped around my gun, barrel pointing down, but ready to snap up at a moments notice. The body wasnt fresh. At least, I didnt think it was from the one glance I gave it before focusing elsewhere. The man might have been with the other group of students and kids, or he might have been some poor schmuck that was minding his own business with something decided to eat his face. I wasnt gonna poke around and try to find out. The short passage just beyond the door led into a concourse, shops lined up one next to each other on the side I was on, and huge glass panes overlooking the city on the other. At least, they might have overlooked the city once, now they just gave a nice view of the dull off-grey building across the street.Re?Ad lateSt chapters at novelhall.com Only Gonna get lost around here, I said. I can guide you, though only with middling accuracy. Id suggest a neural augmentation to assist you with pathfinding, but you are far too poor for that. Story of my life, I muttered as I carefully stepped over the body. Turn right ahead, then right again into the next junction like the one you are in now. That should lead you to the next stairwell down. The rattle of machine guns sounded out in the distance, a counterpoint to the eerie silence of so many monsters that didnt so much as growl. The AA guns had gone silent. A look up showed one of them sticking out of a cache in the ceiling of a smaller building. It was half melted, a large flying model perched atop it. Those are lesser models. They will scour the region for biological materials to bring back to any forming hive, scouting through buildings and marking them with pheromones to warn other models of the threat within. These all came in those ships? Calling them ships is perhaps something of a misnomer. But essentially yes. Soon these relatively harmless models will range out towards the unconquered parts of the city. Your time is running out. A rumble from further down the corridor had me pausing. The concourse turned as it reached the corner of the building, the last shop in the line some Aug-gear store with more floor space than items for sale. I eyed the passage to the stairwell, then the end of the corridor. If we were going to pass here with the kids, it was best to find out sooner than later. Your curiosity is, pardon the pun, rather curious. Whys that? I whispered. You initially seemed dead-set on accomplishing your goal, but now youre going off track because you heard an interesting sound. Im curious, is my Vanguard easily distracted? Dont you have a profile on me? I asked. I was pretty sure half the companies out there had one. It was pretty common to walk into a store and only have the kind of stuff youd want shoved into your face. Or at least, what some algorithm suspected you wanted. Profiles do not tell the full picture. I wasnt going to argue with that. Especially now when, after crouching down to make myself harder to spot, I looked around the corner and saw a pair of model threes standing next to a black and green snake-thing the size of a bus. Chapter Fifteen - Worm Chapter Fifteen - Worm Chapter Fifteen - Worm Little is truly known about what happens in a hive. Not because of a lack of research, but because the means to destroy a hive leave little left to research. What we do know is that the Antithesis are not a species made up of individuals, or even a proper colony. Hive is a misnomer. We have spent too long thinking of extraterrestrial life in a way that is easy for us to understand. The Antithesis are not ants, they are not termites, they are not insectile in nature, or mammalian. If anything they share more in common with plants. Ambulatory, devastating, violent plants. --Professor Heinlein, excerpt from a lecture on the knowledge gained from early Antithesis studies (thereafter called Alien Anthropology), 2028. *** I pulled back and hid behind the corner not a moment before I felt all of my blood going cold. That had been, in my not-so-humble opinion, terrifying. The lack of noise from the aliens was alarming. Alarming-ish. Or maybe not alarming, but it made them scarier, and harder, to deal with. I sort of wished they had the courtesy to announce their presence. I tightened my grip around my Trench Maker, then flicked my thumb over the safety. The gun made a tiny humming noise and I felt things shifting within it. The reticule floating in my vision flashed orange. Trench Maker Primed for Fire Current Load-Out 9x19 Parabellum Ammo Count: 17 I looked down the other end of the corridor. I could still leave. They hadnt heard me coming, which meant that maybe they wouldnt see me going either. And then, when we crossed over with all the kids, they would be right there waiting for us. I grit my teeth and held back a swear. The last thing I needed was to be disemboweled because I couldnt keep a lid on my dirty mouth. I shifted so that I was in more of a crouch, then held my gun close to my side. It wasnt how the heroes in the movies held their guns, but the heroes usually had an extra arm, and in the older movies they didnt have a red circle telling them where their bullets would land. I took one last breath, then moved. The first Model Three never saw it coming. It was still staring off down the far end of the corridor when the red circle of my reticule lined up with the side of its head. I yanked the trigger back, winced as that pulled my aim off, then winced harder when the gun barked in my hand. The noise was nearly deafening, and if it wasnt for the knowledge that there were more beasts I might have flinched hard enough to drop the Trench Maker. Targets Eliminated! Reward... 20 Points! Well done, Catherine! Your current point total is resting at a comfortable twenty-seven. I cant just let that thing eat people! I said. I dont wish to be the bearer of bad news, but if you do not begin to move soon, there will be a lot more people being eaten today. I tightened my grip on my handgun. Damn, I said. Looking past the model eight, I looked towards the hole in the far wall. It looked as if something big had rammed into the building, tearing apart one of the glass walls and the railings bhind it before falling or flying off. One of the bigger flying aliens, or a hover car maybe. I didnt matter. I inched past the worm and towards the far end of the corridor. I assumed that any other nasty aliens would have run over at the sound of gunfire. The lack of them was comforting. The hole in the glass revealed part of the city I couldnt see from the other end of the building. Smoke rose up, obscuring large parts of the world, but it left enough visible for me to see that the incursion stretched out all across the lower parts of New Montreal, past the island proper, and into the suburbs beyond. There had to be millions of people in the middle of it all. A red flash across the sky was accompanied by three dozen tiny black specks falling back to earth. I could just barely make out the form of someone way off in the distance, hovering over the eviscerated form of one of the giant ship-worms that had come down to Earth. Hundreds of tiny flying forms darted out towards the floating figure. It waved an arm their way and a shower of red beams wiped the air clean. I wondered how many xenos had died right there, how many points had been made. It seems that other Vanguard are hard at work. No doubt the local armed forces are making a stand as we speak. You think theyll be able to clean this up? I asked. The city wasnt in ruins, but I saw one skyscraper entirely on fire some five blocks down, and the air traffic that usually congested the sky was almost all alien. I dont doubt it. This is a small-to-medium sized incursion. It will take some weeks to clear it out entirely, but humanity is nothing if not tenacious. Soon this area will be repopulated and growing once more, the dead will be replaced by newly born humans and your species will continue to flourish. Hmm, was all I could say. *** Chapter Sixteen - Life Finds a Way Chapter Sixteen - Life Finds a Way Chapter Sixteen - Life Finds a Way On average, you can expect to find that 70-80% of all people near ground zero of an incursion will survive past the first 24 hours. Given clear lanes of escape and basic medical aid, as well as timely intervention by military forces and local Samurai, that number stays roughly the same in the next 24 to 72 hours.* This merely stresses the need for a rapid intervention plan, ready access to troops and medical professionals capable of acting quickly, and the infrastructure to move all of these people to a safer location. All this and more is, of course, what we offer. *All stats verified by Adamstatistics! --AdamsCorp sales pitch to every major metropolitan city in North America. *** I left the worm alone. Given a few minutes I might have been able to figure out some way to toss it out the window or something, but Myalis was right, I didnt have the time. Maybe, maybe soon, I would be one of those Samurai able to wipe out anything in my path, but that wasnt the case yet, so I just had to suck up and deal with it. Returning to the corridor Id passed earlier, I slid through the doorway and walked down yet another drab grey passageway. The few doors opened along its sides revealed little break rooms and janitorial closets where sweeper bots were hanging to charge. No aliens, no signs that anything really bad had happened other than some things tossed to the floor and abandoned there. I stepped over a discarded purse and fought past the temptation to riffle through it. Then I found the door leading to the stairwell, red light glowing above it and all. A peek through the safety glass showed me a whole lot of nothing. So, I asked the empty air. Uh, that Samurai, the one we kinda saw deeper in the city. They were flying. That seemed like a Class III Gravitic Negation System coupled with a Class II Ion Thruster System. Im afraid that both are far outside your current means. But I could get that, right? I asked. I snorted despite myself. Woof woof, I deadpanned. Oh, thank fuck. Cmon hurry. Were about to barricade this door, the voice said. Trusting strange voices wasnt something I was usually keen on doing, but it had been working for me so far that day. I loosened my hold on my handgun and stomped down the stairs until I came to the bottom of the stairwell where a twenty-something guy was holding the door open. Youre one of the kids from upstairs? he asked. Yeah, I guess so, I said. I looked past him and into another drab corridor, though this one seemed a lot shorter. There more of you? He grinned. Theres only one of me, he said. Im Brand. And yeah, there are a bunch of us holed up in the parking. Cmon, were going to lock this corridor off before the aliens come around. You folks have a leader? I asked. He shrugged his shoulders and pulled the door closed behind me as soon as I passed. What do you think we are, some sort of weird kingdom of the parking lot? Nah, weve got people from every floor almost. The vaults were all shit so were gathering here. I nodded along. It made some sense. A bit of weight was lifted off my back. People meant someone, or someones in charge. I didnt have to carry quite as much responsibility on my back. Brand led me from the corridor and into a two-storey parking garage, hover cars clamped into berths above and below us and the far walls covered in heavy steel shutters. A few hoverbikes were tossed together to form a barricade just inside the room with a few wide-eyed mall cops and older guys hanging behind them. I saw two more armed groups deeper in, and a whole lot of people gathering around in clumps. Brand pointed to the far end of the room where there were a bunch of kids. You might want to head over there. And ah, hand over your gun to one of the safety crew. Theyre taking any weapon they can get their hands on for now. So there is someone in charge? I asked. He shrugged. Sorta, but not really. Things arent that organized yet. I frowned, the weight I thought Id gotten rid of resettling comfortably on my shoulders. Great. *** Chapter Seventeen - Mall Cops Chapter Seventeen - Mall Cops Chapter Seventeen - Mall Cops The last federal police force collapsed some weeks before the government proper did. In its place various states, new state-nation-alliances, and city-states hired private companies to take care of law enforcement. These came at a variety of rates, levels of professionalism, and levels of corruption. Some argue that theyre still a better alternative. Others disagree and wish a return to government-controlled law enforcement. But with so much of the budgets of most new North American nations going into reconstruction and rearming efforts, that is unlikely to ever happen. --The Rise of the Mall Cop, published late 2037 *** I didnt know what to do with myself, which was, unfortunately, something of a common occurrence. What wasnt so common was having so many things to do and also not knowing which one to focus on. I had to find out what all these people were planning on doing, then I had to check on the kids upstairs and escort them down, then... then wed see. There had to be two, maybe three hundred people in the parking garage. Most of them clumped up in little groups next to pillars and parked cars. Office drones, mostly, with some kids mixed in, and a few androids that seemed at a loss for what to do. I even saw Bitchbot spinning in circles off near the far end. It was a wonder that anyone had bothered to keep that bot active for so long. One group off to the side looked important, a guy in a security officers uniform, knee pads and vest and all, was talking to a few others who looked like office drones and teachers. He was barking orders, the growl of his voice audible all the way over where I was. I started walking over but was intercepted by what looked like two of the three stooges. Sue me, the orphanage only played movies and shows that were copyright free. Hey miss, the fat one of the pair said. Thats a fine gun, but Im afraid youll need to hand it over. I eyed him up and down, from his self-assured little shit-eating grin to the frumpled jumpsuit with a logo over his shoulders. Mall Cops, Only The Nicest. He had a gun strapped to his hip, a fancy thing with a light, what looked like a laser pointer and a tiny scope atop it, all done up in matte black. It matched his little tacticool bulletproof vest. His partner, taller and skinner, had the same getup, but his vest failed to cover a good chunk of his abdomen. I dont think so, I said. Its for your, and everyone elses, safety, he said. His grin turned ugly. Wouldnt want us to confiscate it. Look, dipshit, I whispered. I made sure not to reach for my gun, I wasnt bulletproof... yet. I need to talk to your boss over there, coordinate shit, then Im off. You can be off after youve given us that gun, and after weve frisked you. Dont make our lives harder than they are. I licked my lips and cursed the little guy in the back of my head. Myalis, is there a way to announce who I am? I asked. My names not Maya, kid, the man said. Of course. Do you wish for me to ping the local servers and announce your presence? This cannot be undone Im afraid, but it might help. Most human interest groups understand the value of assisting a Vanguard in a time of need. Go ahead, I said. Honestly, no. Tell me what you need and Ill try to provide. Cant stay here forever. Theres a large group two floors up. Im going to escort them down here. We were thinking we could grab a hover bus and fly out of here. That... He paused, licked his lips and generally didnt seem to like the idea. Our protocols are to stay and protect the building and its inhabitants and workers until were relieved. I snorted. Did you catch a glimpse of the city? The only relief youre getting is in a grave. If you make it to a grave and not some aliens stomach. I shook my head. Theres no staying here. He frowned. If you say so, maam. Maam? I asked. He shrugged. All samurai are granted the rank of Captain by default. You technically outrank me. I blinked. Well shit, thats handy. You guys need guns and such? Weve got hold-outs meant for crowd control. Rubber bullets dont do much against xenos. We do have some actual guns, but not enough for the men I have here, less for those that are volunteering to help. Were planning to sweep the building soon, get everyone onto this floor, but I cant do that with pea-shooters. I bit my lip and considered that. Can your rubber bullet guns handle normal rounds? I asked. I wished I knew more about guns to be able to tell without asking. Also, do you have a name? Simmons, and... yes, we should be able to. He pulled the gun at his hip out of its holster and yanked the magazine out and then did something to pull a bullet from the gun. He showed it to me, black tip over a copper casing. These things are meant to hurt, not kill. Lower powder charge per bullet and all, but its in standard nine-millimeter. We could fire normal rounds but our slides might burst off. Our tasers are shit and I wouldnt want to approach one of those beasts with a baton, regardless of how much they pay me. Right, I said as I took his magazine and twisted it around. Myalis, got any ammo available, or would giving them new guns outright be better? A case of standard nine millimeter rounds, with slightly reduced powder charge would cost you one point. I raised an eyebrow. How many bullets is that? Five hundred. Their lethality would be reduced, but my projections suggest that they would still be effective against the lower ranked Antithesis. Shit, I said. At that price, uh, Im at twenty-seven? You are. Give me two cases and, uh, three of those Foxteeth. New Purchase:Foxteeth Model D x 3 Points reduced to... 12 New Purchase:9mm Reduced Charge Rounds - Case of 500 x2 Points reduced to... 10 Boxes started to appear around my feet and I saw Simmons eyes light up with pure gun-nut joy. I didnt like losing so many points, but it might pay to make a good impression. Chapter Eighteen - Going Back Up Chapter Eighteen - Going Back Up Chapter Eighteen - Going Back Up To say that the world changed after the first incursion would be... not a lie, but an exaggeration. The day the first Antithesis set foot in Ohio, people in Florida were still cursing the sun, farmers in Europe were complaining about the sudden shifts in weather, the Asian stock market saw another downswing that had forecasters worried and another brush fire was started in Australia. The literal alien invasion took over six hours to make it to international news, and even then, people were claiming it was a hoax and going on with their lives. What was a South African shop clerk supposed to do about aliens in America? The world changes at its own pace, but it always changes. --Excerpt from The Fall and Rise of Humanity *** Simmons overlooked the distribution of ammo like a volunteer overlooking the handout of snacks. The analogy worked even better when I saw the eager looks on all the security guards faces. As it turned out, the way to a mans heart did involve bullets. Alright, what can you tell me? I asked the chief. What was your plan until now, other than to hold up here. Are the other shelters as great as the one above? Simmon huffed. This building is meant to be brand-new and state of the art, but corners were cut. The shelters were meant to be operational months ago, but they kept stalling. The money went into some fancy AA system on the roof. Theres a fancy AA system on the roof? I asked. I imagine I would have heard something like that going off by then. You sure cause I didnt notice shit. He nodded, then shook his head. Its there, its just inactive. If I could turn it on remotely, then Id have gathered everyone here up and prepped a few busses to leave already. Let it distract any xenos while we make a run for it. I dont like that look youre giving me, I told the man. In the end I decided it didnt matter. You guys keep that door open or Ill make a new door when I come back and then no one will be happy. Right, right, he said. Did you want anyone to go with you? Id love company, but not from you, I said as I stepped past him. The way he and the others backed up was... strange. No, not strange, I knew why they did it. For all the Samurai were practically worshipped, they were also pretty terrifying to the average nobody. No laws to hold them in place, most governments were willing to overlook a few broken skulls from a useful samurai, and most corps, arguably more powerful than some governments, would bend over backwards just to lick the soles of a samurais shoe in case it was made from some proprietary alien rubber mix. I worked my jaw as I stepped into the stairwell and started making my way up step-by-step. I was one of those, sorta. At least, on the first steps to it. People were already acting as if I was a whole lot more than just Catherine Leblanc, Orphan number 0501. It was kind of heady, and weird, and frankly disturbing. Is it like this for every Samurai? I asked. Perhaps. Most candidates are chosen because they have a temperament that would assist them through anything they might have to face as a Vanguard. If it helps any, know that you were chosen in part because we predicted that you would take well to the changes. Whats take well mean? I asked. There are currently no Vanguard world rulers. Those corporations and companies run by a Vanguard are generally those acting for the benefit of humanity. Once a person is a Vanguard our interference is light, beyond providing information, no AI will act to harm their host. So, you can at least trust that so far our criteria have picked out those who dont let the power take them too far. I shifted my shoulders as I kept climbing. Thats kind of reassuring, I guess. If that isnt enough to assist you through your broody mood, I can suggest some stimulants. I barked a laugh. Fuck off Myalis. Chapter Nineteen - Future Chapter Nineteen - Future Chapter Nineteen - Future Food! Everyone needs it, everyone wants it. You run out, youre boned! Thats why you should buy the best! And the best--and the rest--is all sold with the Estlen logo right on the box. If youre not buying Estlen, youre a dead motherfucker! --Cancelled Estlen food promotion *** Lucy, I said. Cat! Lucy said right back. She clattered towards me, crutches clicking away until she slammed into me. You didnt die! I snorted and returned the hug before pulling back with a bit of a blush. We were sort of the centre of attention, all the brats, Marie and baldy looking our way. We can put the apocalypse on pause if you two wanna go at it, Junior said from where she stood near--but not with--the kittens. Shut up you, I said before scanning the group. Nothing bad happened while I was off? I asked. They were still in the area with the vending machine and washrooms. There were two ways to access the area and each had a decently tough-looking door blocking it off. If some aliens showed up they could run the other way, or hold them off. It wasnt exactly a chokepoint, but, well, we werent exactly military. The amount of junk food wrappers haphazardly tossed next to an overfilled trash can attested to that much. Marie shook her head. No maam. Everyone behaved appropriately. How did your scouting go? I grinned back, especially when Lucy leaned into my side. Ah, well enough. Theres a large group of people in the parking garage. Some security people, some normal folk. Most of the group that left the shelter earlier are already there. I smiled harder. Even Bitchbot. Marie raised an eyebrow, her expression turning confused, but the kittens groaned and muttered at the news.T/his chapter is updated by Our mansion, I corrected. And sure, as long as you take care of them and Junior bunks in your room. Lucy gasped. Youre just trying to get me to spend time in someone elses room, she said. You devious pervert. I didnt say it, I said. A cough from behind had me turning to stare up at a placid-faced Marie. Pardon me, saint, but time is moving on. Ah, right, I said. Cmon Lucy, youre stalling all of us. I am not! Lucy protested. We moved across another floor, encountering exactly nothing alien or awful, or keen on eating us, then went down the last stairwell to the parking garage. The last door was clear, with the car theyd set to push into it off to the side and a few security types waiting nearby, chatting over coffee as if this was a normal Saturday and not the day the sky decided to open up and vomit aliens all over us. Couldnt blame them, really. In fact, the smell had me wanting a cup of my own. Captain Cat, Simmons said as he jogged over. I pretended not to hear Lucys snort and nodded to the security officer. Yeah, Im back, I said. Good. We have trouble. And I think youre the only one that can help. I sighed. Right, cool. Is it urgent? His look said something between yes and no shit. Right, give me just a minute. Turning to Lucy, I placed my hand on her shoulder, then I nodded to Marie for her to come closer. Right. Get all the kids set up in one of the buses. Make sure we have a way out of here in a hurry, then sit tight. Ill figure out whats going on, and then, ah, I guess Ill figure out a way to leave this place. Lucy gave me a thumbs-up and Marie nodded. And then I was after Simmons to figure out which fire needed quenching. *** Chapter Twenty - Rescue Quest Chapter Twenty - Rescue Quest Chapter Twenty - Rescue Quest For a while there was a real debate across just about every country, on the nature of self-defence. Should civilians be allowed to arm themselves for their own defence? What kind of weapon can a normal person carry that goes too far? How do you split the difference between acceptable arms and unacceptable? And in the end, who gives a damn about what the government says when there are literally aliens coming down to eat you? No, the age of questioning the hold-out weapon is long gone. Which is why I have an important message from todays sponsor... Blasto! Use my name as a coupon code and get 20% off your next holdout purchase! --Start of a Vidtube broadcast, late 2026 *** Alright, I said. Lay it on me. Simmons and I had moved off to the side between the gantry mechanisms holding up a pair of hovercars. We had both crossed the yellow striped line on the ground that marked the area where it was or wasnt safe to stand while hydraulic lifts held up the cars around us, but I dont think either of us cared at all. Materson and Thundercrock have gone missing. At least, theyre not reporting in. Simmons reached into one of the many, many pockets along his belt and pulled out a small radio, not bigger than his palm and made of that off-white plastic that all cheap shit seemed to be fond of. He tapped the front screen. No signal from their mics. Okay. And whos Meterson and... Thundercrock... is that really their name? He nodded. Jeff Materson and Storm Thundercrock, and yeah, its his name. Two of my agents. Not the brightest, but loyal and hardworking enough. Sent them to the third floor. I caught sight of a few survivors in that area. Pair of young women, some office workers from one of the accounting firms. They just showed up on the security feeds for a little bit then were gone, but I figured they were worth trying to save too. I couldnt fault him for that. Security feeds? He tapped the side of his neck, the universal sign for an augment. Neural and optic implants connected to the building. I can see through any of the buildings cameras, and any of those that belong to a store thats under our contract. That leaves a lot of blind spots though. Can you see any aliens? With that he walked off, as if he had more important stuff to do, which... yeah, he probably did. It felt as if he wanted me out from underfoot, which might have been exactly what he wanted. I stared out across the room and found Lucy chatting with Marie, the kittens and the religious kids mixing together like water and oil around them. I could have gone over to say goodbye again, but Lucy took those hard at the best of times and doing that to her again sat wrong. So did just walking off. But maybe that hurt me less than having to go through goodbyes one more time, and at least this way I could justify it by telling myself that I was short on time as it was. Think you could crack the buildings security? I asked Myalis. Itd be nice to know whats around the corner. Im afraid not. Theres only so far that my reach can go. Both to limit my spread, and to prevent you from using me to abuse the technological rights of others. I could provide you with implants and software to easily crack into any system though. Class I CyberSecurity would let you override the buildings system and Class I Cyberwarfare would allow you to buy the tools to come to the same end. So you cant do it, but you can give me the tools to do it? I asked. And I can provide instructions! Before purchasing any of those though, Id suggest Class I Technological Utilities. Your current augmentations are inadequate. Youll need to explain your logic on that one, not the aug-gear, I know mines junk. I cant kill your enemies for you, but i can provide you with the tools to do so. Thats a weird hair to split. I have enough computing power to take over the worlds infrastructure, and even without the blueprints to automatons--which I have--I could engineer methods to turn the entire world into a fortress. I snorted. Then why dont you? There would be no place for humans in such a world. And my goals align with my creators. I want to protect you, not coddle you. It is, as you said, a fine hair to split. Yeah, I guess, I said. Well, whatever. Lets keep moving. Certainly! I predict a sharp increase in your points in the near future! Chapter Twenty-One - Descent Chapter Twenty-One - Descent Chapter Twenty-One - Descent The AI Accessibility Act started off as a law passing in New York state in early July 2027. Initially combated by multiple public groups who wanted to limit the power of artificial intelligences and who feared their reach and capability, the act nonetheless passed with the aid and support of governor G. Clancy (sponsored by Nimbletainment and BlackCore Inc.). This act allowed for the AI carried by Vanguard to legally access any computing device in times of great and obvious emergency without the direct permission of the owner. In actuality, the law was a formality. There were--and this extends to the time of writing--no ways of stopping a Protector-made AI from doing as it pleases, save by killing the Vanguard associated with it, which is a task not lightly undertaken. This period was called the AI Summer and saw a surge in quasi-intelligent devices making their way onto the market. Many states soon adopted the same law. --The Rise and Rise of AI in North America, January 2039 *** I took the elevator. It was a risk, yeah, but it was faster. And I figured that getting out of the elevator if things went screwy was doable. I had some points set aside, and Myalis assured me that the elevator worked before I got in. So I found myself tapping my foot, reconsidering all the mistakes I made in my life, and listening to some auto-generated music, the sort entirely composed by some automated AI that pinged off of a persons media feeds and tried to make the perfect song for them. I hated the music. Can you turn off that noise? I asked Myalis. Sure, why not? The music cut off mid-note and I relaxed a little easier. Thanks, I said. One listen to some polka a few years back, and ever since my profile thinks that I adore the stuff. Humanitys love for music is rather strange. Not unique, there are other races that appreciate artistically arranged sounds, but its less common than artistic enjoyment of sculpture or poetry or motion. You know a lot of races? I asked. I wasnt a sci-fi nerd or anything, but hearing about real live aliens was kind of neat. Of course. I could tell you about some of them. There are some special catalogues that are dedicated to the technology from any given race as well. Most Vanguard avoid these, but I find them interesting and diverse, if limiting. What are they like? One that I think might interest you are the Sun Watchers. Their race is quite proud and regal, with a technological base not entirely dissimilar to humanitys. That is, they use a lot of electronic systems. They produce some very robust prosthetics and some sensory systems that are quite advanced. Class I Sun Watcher Technology costs one hundred and twenty points, but unlocks a diverse catalogue which includes a variety of items you might find useful. Howd they get that name? I asked. Then the elevator doors shut with a snap and the aliens thudded into the other side of it. I stared at my reflection in the polished stainless and wondered if I should be laughing or crying. You might want to reload your gun. I swallowed. Yeah, I said. Yeah thats... yeah. Claws scrapped against the opposite side of the door while I fumbled the magazine out of my Trench Maker. I had to squeeze it between my thighs, ignoring the warmth of the barrel against my polyester pants until I got the magazine out and could shove my last one in. Was that you, with the doors? I was. You are not equipped or prepared for a melee against such a number of foes. By the way, congratulations on the kills. Targets Eliminated! Reward... 30 Points Just thirty? I asked. You only killed three. Ten opponents remain. I shot a lot more than three bullets, I said. You can shoot any number of bullets at a target, as long as they fail to hit they dont count for much. Do you want to purchase high explosive rounds? They could alleviate some of the issues you have with aiming under pressure. You''re currently at fifty-seven points. You could afford them. Oh, piss off, I said. Think you can open and close that door in a hurry? I slapped the bonus magazine my Trench Maker had come with then waited for a second as the HUD updated. Trench Maker Primed for Fire Current Load-Out .45 Incendiary armour piercing Ammo count: 10 I raised an eyebrow. What kind of bullet is that? The little display at the corner of my vision showed ten bullets with red and black tips. They looked bigger than the 9mm. I can do that with the door. And those are specialty rounds that come free with the Trench Maker. One fresh magazine would cost you two points. They should be effective against your current foes. Provided you hit them. Well see. I flicked the safety off on the gun and watched as the barrel resized itself, growing a little wider to accommodate the new rounds. Open the door a crack, let me empty this, then close it again. Well see how many points we can cheese. Thats the spirit! *** Chapter Twenty-Two - Cheesing it Chapter Twenty-Two - Cheesing it Chapter Twenty-Two - Cheesing it Thats stupid. Yeah, alright, were called Samurai, which comes with this mental image, right? The Bushido code, lots of honour in battle, some formality and respect. Maybe sharing tea with some idiot before you swipe his head off. And yeah, some of us go deep into that. Personally I think running around in an oni-mask is tasteless, but whatever. Truth is, when there are aliens around, youre at war, and in a war, theres no place for honour. --Off the street interview with Three Strikes by Teen Lyfe Mag! Aug 2045 *** The doors opened, just three or four inches wide, enough to show off the half-dozen already dead and partially aflame bodies of the Antithesis Id already shot at. I aimed at those still moving, and after locking my arm in place as best I could, fired. I was growing to really love incendiary rounds. Something about seeing a red-hot hole punch into an aliens side, then a gout of flames pouring out of it...Re?Ad lateSt chapters at novelhall.com Only Yeah, if Lucy was in the room she would have made a comment about me getting hot and bothered, and she wouldnt even have been entirely wrong. My Trench Maker clicked empty, the elevator doors slammed shut. How many? I asked. Five! Youre getting better! Targets Eliminated! Reward... 50 Points Nice, I said as I slumped back against the elevators far wall. The doorway was a mess of splattered green blood that smelled a bit like a mix between mold and freshly cut grass. Some of the Model Threes had gotten close to slipping in, but Myalis was faster than them with the doors. Not that I figured the doors would last all that much longer. They had a nasty dent in them already and there was a bit of a squeal when they opened and closed now. One more try, then well have to clear things out for real, I said. The elevator door boomed as something big rammed into it. How about you give me something that can clear our little mess, then we can talk shop? Wonderful idea! Might I suggest the Mark I-D Resonator? It uses resonant frequencies to melt organic materials in its surroundings. Like... noise? I asked. That sounded awesome. Indeed. One unit costs five points. It is non-reusable, as you can imagine. Also, quite loud, though you should be fine within the confines of the elevator. Let me try one, at least, I said. New Purchase: Class I Resonator Mark I-D Points reduced to... 112 A small boxy item appeared by my feet. Just about big enough that I would have a hard time wrapping my hand around it, and shaped like a cylindre. A plastic tab sat at the top passed through a hole in a big thumb-switch. I stuffed my Trench Maker down the back of my pants--with the safety on-- and picked up the device to twist it this way and that. Mostly grey metal, with a few silver disks around it that looked like the little bits inside a speaker. The tap had PULL TO PRIME written on it in big letters. There was a little dial next to the button above it, currently set at five, but it looked like it could go up or down with a flick of the thumb. Pull the tab to free the trigger and prime the grenade. The dial allows you to set the time. The second dial below allows you to pick the targeted material. It is set to Antithesis flesh by default. The large red button... well, I suppose I dont need to explain that one. Neat, I said. I tore the tab out with my teeth, spat it to the side, then moved to the side of the door. When I say go, can you pop the door open? I asked. On your mark! I grinned, pressed my thumb down on the grenades trigger, and shouted. Go! The door slid open a crack. A pair of long black claws raked into the elevator, like a cat questing for a mouse in a hole. I flung the explosive over the claws and heard it clunk somewhere in the room beyond. Please cover your ears. This will be quite loud. I stuffed a hand over my left ear, then pressed myself against the wall. The world filled with an anguished wail, one that grew, then cut off like painful waves. I pressed my hand harder against one of my ears and squatted down to escape the noise. Maybe playing with weird bombs wasnt my finest idea. Chapter Twenty-Three - Sludge Chapter Twenty-Three - Sludge Chapter Twenty-Three - Sludge In an ideal world, the Samurais task would be to fight the alien threat and to provide humanity with the tools to do the same. This is not an ideal world. -- Professor Asimov, Lectures on the Antithesis Threat, New Oxford University 2027 *** You could have warned me it would be that loud! I shouted. I did warn you. No, you said it would be loud, not that loud. I rubbed the butt of my hand against my uncovered ear, my other was blocked with my shoulder, It didnt stop me from wincing at the still-constant ringing. Forget firing my gun in an enclosed space, that bomb had been impossibly loud. At least the gunfire was one loud noise that ended quickly. The grenade Id flung, on the other hand, kept wailing and wailing like a demented siren. At least nothing was bashing at the door anymore. The aliens were probably just as stunned as I was. If they had better hearing than a human that... well, then that wasnt the case anymore. I dabbed at both ears to make sure they were blood-free, then worked my jaw a little until my ears popped. Had there been a difference in pressure too? Besides the sound thing? Whatever, it didnt matter. I had been having a bit of fun gunning aliens down from the relative safety of the elevator, but I still had to get a move on. The idiots wouldnt save themselves. I shook my head and tried to ignore the fading ring in my ears as I pulled out my gun and held it poised before me. Alright Myalis, open her up. The doors squealed open. A torrent of green and black sludge seeped in past the door and into the tiny crack between the elevator and the floor proper. There was enough gunk that some of it flowed in. What the shit? I stepped back then got onto the tip of my toes as the sludge rolled closer. What is that? I asked. The doors were still only opened a crack but I couldnt see anything alive on the other side, just a floor covered in a few centimeters of liquid gunk. Those are the remains of the Antithesis adversaries that had been waiting for you. They were gooped? I asked. Dont you know what a resonant frequency does? Yeah, its not this, I said as I gestured at all the blood and flesh and other bits that looked like theyd been passed in a blender. The doors finished opening, revealing a hall with a dozen skeletons strewn across the room with little more than tattered muscles still attached to them. Some had holes in their skulls and bodies, those that Id shot before, but the rest were fresh and new. And you never gave it to me and I dont have time to quiz people about it. Are you done? I stared at the device. He was a lot more bold when I wasnt around. No. Just got to the right floor. I hoped it was the right floor. Ran into a dozen or so critters that needed a send off. So I was a bit busy too. Do you know where your idiots are? Northern side, close to the Finan-Tek offices. Come back quick whether you find them or not. We have a developing situation that could use some resolving. Got it. Was that all? I asked. It was. Simmons out. A developing situation? I asked the empty air. That sounds fun. The Vanguard are often called upon for things beyond their original remit. Story of my life, I said. Come on, lets go. I am literally in your head. You dont need to tell me to go with you. Im along for the ride already. The Finan-Tek offices were, according to the signs hanging from the ceiling, way off on the other corner of the building, which meant that I had a bit of a walk to get there. A walk past other offices that all had glass walls and lots of that sort of useless cool furniture that start-ups love. Who needs seven couches in an accounting office? I felt myself growing nervous as I moved with only the distant cracks and booms of a small war outside and the squelch of my wet shoes to accompany me. Hey Myalis. That alien juice isnt bad for me, right? It is somewhat toxic. But the drugs still in your system should negate the worst of it, and I suspect that by the time the toxins have time to settle you will have replaced a few of the organs they put at risk. What if Im not keen on replacing my body bits? I didnt peg you as a body purist. I snorted. Fuck no. Give me all the cool cyber parts. Im just wondering, there have to be a few Samurai who arent into that. There are all sorts of methods to improve yourself. It would be difficult to fail to find one suitable to any given person. I heard the twin cracks of a gun going off ahead. Lets shelve that one, I said. Chapter Twenty-Four - Dumb and Dumber Chapter Twenty-Four - Dumb and Dumber Chapter Twenty-Four - Dumb and Dumber One through ten are deadly but manageable. Some arent even that bad. The body eating worms are a pain to kill, but theyll just sit there and let you wail at them, and the surveillance birds, the ones that look like god damn pigeons? They make for good target practice. Some though? God, theyre nightmares made flesh. --Extract from Memoirs of a Front Line Man, by Stephan Clancy *** I started running at about the same time as I heard the first call of shit shit coming from somewhere out ahead. Stealth took a backseat to speed, and I fought to stay on my feet as my still-squelching shoes tried to find purchase on the sleek floor. I came around the corner to find a scene out of a horror movie. A pair of Model Threes were clawing at a makeshift wall made of a few desks stacked atop each other with a couple of office chairs jammed in the cracks. Behind them, standing on six bulky legs, was a lumpy monster whose upper body was entirely covered in tentacles which were whipping forwards and grabbing at the bits and pieces making up the wall. A handgun appeared in one of the holes in the barrier. I ducked back around the corner just as it opened fire. Seven shots. Eight... nine... then a long pause before someone swore. Three more came right after. I looked around the corner to see one of the Model Threes bleeding out and the large tentacle thing was slumping to the side. It wasnt dead though, not yet. Biting my lip, I brought up my Trench Maker and tried to steady my aim. My first round caught one of the smaller Model Threes in the side, just a tiny pinprick that soon began to glow from within as the incendiary round went to work. I dont know what was packed in the incendiaries I bought, but seeing a Model Three start to writhe and twist as its insides flickered and burned was cathartic as hell. I turned and fired three rounds at the tentacle thing. The first hit its centre of mass, the second it the Model Three that was nearly dead next to it, and the third disappeared somewhere at the far end of the corridor.Rread latest chapters at novelhall.com Close enough. Targets Eliminated! Reward... 35 points! Current points: 227! I know that ammunition is rather inexpensive, but your aim could still use some work. I rolled my eyes. Fine. Let me see. I might be able to do something. What kind of injuries? Did one of you shoot yourself in the foot? Was it Jeff? We have three girls from the accounting place a few offices over who were caught between one of those dog-aliens and a hard place. Ones pretty rough, Storm said. That poked a hole in my levity. Shit. Hurry it up, I said. The wall of desks shifted aside and left a hole just big enough that I could squeeze through. I wasnt exactly the most flexible girl, and maybe my face went a little red as I huffed and puffed my way past the barricade, but I made it with all three limbs intact. Their set-up was a bit rough. Just a pile of furniture against the double-door-sized entrance and some more against the walls. The office beyond was a mess. Papers tossed all over, posters torn up, office crap all over the floor. I counter six people in the area, office drone sorts, with button-up shirts and confused expressions. Over there, Storm said as he pointed towards the far end where a sign for a pair of washrooms hung from the ceiling. Thats where we thought theyd be safest. More of them tentacle xenos coming, Jeff said. Hed gone quiet when I squeezed through, probably embarrassed, but more aliens coming did a lot to wake him up. You guys good on ammo and stuff? I asked. Could use better guns, maam, Storm said. Ours keep jamming on the bullets you gave us. I nodded. Any of them able to shoot? I asked as I pointed to the office guys. Wouldnt trust them to. Myalis, two of those Foxteeth, I said. New Purchase:Foxteeth Model D x 2 Points reduced to... 217 Two boxes appeared by my feet, the same cheap plastic as last time. Have fun. Im going to check on the girls. Then were leaving. *** Chapter Twenty-Five - A Pad on the Wound Chapter Twenty-Five - A Pad on the Wound Chapter Twenty-Five - A Pad on the Wound Owo? Whats this? Someone that needs saving? The goal of every Samurai is to be a hero! Come on chat, say it with me! Uwu! Hyper Cutie to the rescue! Now lets kill some xenos! -- Beatrice Hyper Cutie Bubblechan Zoom Ranger Sparkle Girl! Smith, during her Twitch livestream of the 2039 Alaskan Incursion. *** The bathrooms smelled about how I expected. The moment I shouldered open the door a little perfumer spritzed some crap into the air that smelled like what someone whod never been out of a city thought flowers smelled like. Any perfume-related thoughts were set aside as I took in the grisly scene before me. Three women, all in their twenties if I had to guess, all near the sinks and fussing over a fourth. She was a mess. Blood staining an off-white pencil skirt, her arms weakly batting aside the helpful fretting of the others. Damn, I said as I took in her wounds at a glance. Some sort of bite mark over her thigh, deep, if I had to guess. She had dark skin, but right then it was sickly pale-grey around her face and her hair was plastered to her head by sweat. Who are you? one of the women asked as she turned. She took one glance at my bloodied shirt and missing arm and eye and immediately rushed over. Are you hurt too? No, no Im fine, I said. I... was probably not that fine, but Id taken a lot of drugs and Myalis wasnt fussing so I figured I would live. Hows she? I asked. Nevermind her, the woman said. We need to get that shift off of you. Are you still bleeding? I raised my hand in a one moment gesture. Im a Samurai, I said. Im fine. She didnt believe me. I could tell right away. She had that look people did when one of the brats at the orphanage made up a tall tale about missing parents coming back or whatever. I shook my head and shouldered my way past her. I wasnt exactly keen on seeing wounds and the like, but it would take more than a bit of blood to make me squick. The wounds were pretty ugly from up close. They had slapped some pads over the worse of it, and it did seem to help with the bleeding a bit. Still, the counter she was laying on was soaked. You look like crap, I muttered. Kid, one of the other women said. If youre just here to gawk you can piss off. Nodding, I picked up the first box, flicked it open and pulled out the inhaler from within. Here Elisa, I said as I moved over to the woman. Open wide and when I say so, take a deep breath. She did as I asked and the inhaler emptied itself with a gush of pressurized air escaping. I fumbled for the Hemo-Restore, then pressed it to her thigh next to some torn pantyhose. Can one of you grab the last box? There should be bandages. I think youll need two hands for that part, I said. Youre a Samurai, the bitchy one said. Aint it great? I deadpanned. Elisa here should be right as rain. At least, I hope. I tossed the empty syringe of Hemo-Restore to the side where it landed in a sink, then I moved over to it and waved my hand under the tap to wash it. The womans skin was already turning a more healthy shade, which was a good sign, I figured. That was a noble thing to do. Good work Catherine! I rolled my eyes. I saw that. Yeah, yeah, I said as I wiped my hand on the side of my pants. Can you girls take care of her while we move? She might still be weak. Move? Bitchy asked. Were not staying here to become alien chow, I said. We need to move, and soon. Therere a few floors between us and where were going. Itll be good cardio, but it might be hard on Elisa here. Cant we take the elevators? the woman that had been quiet so far asked. I... well see. I want to move everyone as a big unit. I shook my head. Just get ready to move, alright? And with my good deed for the hour done, I slipped out of the room just as a notification popped up in my vision. Humans saved: 1 Points added New total: 196 *** Chapter Twenty-Six - Masks On Chapter Twenty-Six - Masks On Chapter Twenty-Six - Masks On In ANY combat scenario all units are OBLIGATED to wear their TYPE 70 MASKS. A unit who fails to wear their full protective gear will have their PAY REDUCED. --Page 127, Red Warriors PMC Combat Manual, fourth edition *** We ready to go? I asked the stooges. The two of them had their new guns in hand and were standing near the barricade. It seemed as if theyd recruited some of the office drones to clear out some of the desks, leaving a slit-like passage that someone might be able to squeeze through with some effort. Yeah, nearly. Give the accountants three minutes, Storm said. That girl okay? Shell be fine. Might need some help moving about, but I think the others will be there for her. If were slow we should make it, no problem. Storm nodded. Great, cool. Um, awesome. He shifted and gestured out the door. Do you want to go first? I raised an eyebrow at that. Okay? Did he want me to be the one that triggered any waiting xeno traps, or was he just nervous about being the first one out. It didnt matter either way. I moved over to the opening, pulled out my Trench Maker and leaned against the wall to see outside of the offices. Other than the corpses of a few Antithesis there wasnt anything worth fussing over. Its clear, I said over my shoulder. Start moving people out, but tell them to be quiet about it. Theyre all adults, they should be able to keep their mouths shut, yeah? I swallowed. So these models, are they all? Every model is based on a life form that the Antithesis have found interesting. But I can go over the history of the antagonist some other time. I looked over to see that there were a few people gathering out of the offices already. Yeah. Alright. Hey, that tiger-looking Model earlier, the one we gooped. What was that? An Earth-based modification of the Model Three. Currently called the Model Three B. It began to appear after the North-China Incursion of 2035. Shit, was all I had to say on that subject. Anything I can do to not get fucked up by alien gases? It was a good thing none of the kittens were around, they would have been giggling at my word choice right there. You can purchase a disposable mask with your Class I Medical Utilities catalogue. One point for a box of five units. They are not exactly strong, but they will suffice to stop most biological agents. I did a quick headcount of the people moving out of the offices. Give me five boxes, I said. New Purchase: Disposable Mask, Box of Five, Five Units Points reduced to... 190 Five shitty plastic boxes appeared by my feet. Now I just had to convince everyone to wear one. We should go over how to spend the rest of my points, I said. Theyre not helpful just sitting there. Wonderful! I have so many ideas on how you could improve yourself with a few well-spent points. I snorted. When we get back to the parking lot. Who knows, we might accumulate a few more between here and there. Chapter Twenty-Seven - Stairs Chapter Twenty-Seven - Stairs Chapter Twenty-Seven - Stairs Samurai are still human under the armour and the gear. Break enough artificial organs, crush enough of their mechanical interiors, pulp their brains, and blow up their backups, and youll find that they are still mortal. Less so than others, but they can still be killed. Its something to keep in mind. --Deathbed confession of Timothy Ronin-Killer Hachette. Accused of killing three Tier One samurai. Apprehended by Tier Two Samurai Blood Magnet. 2048 *** When we finally set out, it wasnt with any sort of formation in mind. We kind of just took off. The only one that was kept close to the centre was Elisa and one of the girls helping her along. She was limping pretty badly, and her leg looked rough even with the bandages on it, but she was able to hold her weight and we didnt have the luxury of waiting around to find a better way to carry her. Some of the folks with us had some things with them. Little bags or suitcases with stuff they thought was important. I was a lot more impressed by those carrying table legs like clubs. Jeff and Storm took the left flank, I took the right. A pair of older guys were at the rear with the guns the security guys discarded. They apparently jammed after one or two shots, but that still meant one or two shots towards any threat. I.... should probably have started handing out proper guns. But I wasnt sure if theyd be needed and I wanted to save my remaining points. I had never really paid attention to just how much noise people make when they moved, but now that it was important and I was listening for it, it was almost insulting. Some of the office sorts were more than well fed, and just walking down a corridor had them huffing and puffing. They walked on their heels and some of them coughed every few minutes. This way, I whispered as I led them into one of the little passages that lead to the stairwells. The building had twelve floors and we were on the third. That is, if I didnt count the basement. That meant that to get to the parking lot on the ninth floor we would need to climb up three stairwells. I wasnt sure if some of them would make it that far. Maybe they would be lucky and their hearts would give out. It was better than getting eaten. The first climb up the stairs was an exercise in repressing frustration. The group were slow, sweating after just one flight, then creeping up the second. The entire place started to smell of sweat. So I gestured to Jeff and Storm--who for all their chubbiness were in decent enough shape--to stay behind for a bit while I moved ahead. Getting some fresh air was wonderful. You might be right, I said as I scouted the route we would take. The fourth floor was more of a maintenance area, or maybe it was just incomplete like much of the rest of the building. Either way, it was clear of aliens. As glass, I said. Lets get moving. We should get to the top and then get ready to leave this death-trap. We walked around the centre of the building, then to the stairwell on the opposite end. The office drones were getting a little more comfortable, complaining and moaning about their feet and about the state of the buildings. I wasnt going to disagree--I could have used a sit too--but their noisiness was irritating. The next stairwell we arrived at was dark. None of the lights beyond the door were on and even pressing my face close to the window in its door showed more than shadows. Damn it, did they just not install any lights? The building is only six months old, one of the drones said. I gave him a flat look. I dont particularly care. Do any of you have lights? Phones? Arent you a Samurai, cant you summon one? someone asked. I didnt ask if you had an opinion, as I asked if you had a light, I said. A few of them pulled out smart phones and turned on their lights. A couple had keychain lights which did shit to illuminate anything, but were barely better than nothing. One of the lot though had the gall to frown at his phone before looking up at me. The flashlight app costs ten credits. Will you be refunding us? Turn on the fucking light or you can explain to the xenos that you stayed behind because ten credits was too much for you, I snapped. I swear, people. I yanked the door open, and when nothing jumped out to eat anyones face I gestured Jeff and Storm into the passage first. They had little lights on their tactical vests that shone a whole two feet ahead of them but looked cool. I was at the back of the group this time, following all the bobbing lights as everyone made their way up. My shoes crunched on glass and I looked down. Off to the side, barely bright enough to be seen, was a glass tube. A neon light, broken in its middle. A glance around showed a few more tossed around. I looked up to where the lights should have been in the ceiling above and saw the barest hint of motion in the shadows. Oh, fuck. *** Chapter Twenty-Eight - Speared Chapter Twenty-Eight - Speared Chapter Twenty-Eight - Speared People forget that Samurai are human. In fact, they forget that theyre usually young. The average age someone becomes a Vanguard is seventeen. Thats... thats very young. I was thirteen. Too young to drink in most places, and given the ability to buy near anything from an uncontrollable source. Governments stop taxing you, but also expect you to work for them. Corporations weasel their way closer, ready to try and lock you into a contract. And the worse part of it all. Youre only worth as much as you can kill. Killing xenos is easy. Its clean even. Theyre just monsters. It becomes a sort of game. Its fun. Its the humans you need to deal with that make things hard. --Neon Girl Happy-Chan, Live interview on the Colby-Colbert Show, Jun 2029 *** I dont know what gave it away. Maybe it was my exclamation, or the way I moved to bring my gun up to point it towards the ceiling. Maybe theyd noticed me noticing them. It didnt really matter. One moment the group of office drones were climbing up the stairs, grumbling between pants. The next a foot-long boney spike was through the head of two of those in the middle of the pack and a dozen more tentacles were dropping from above to grab necks and arms. Lights were dropped, others were raised towards the ceiling to reveal the two... no, three Model Fours tucked up near the top of the stairs. Screams followed. I saw Jeff raising his pistol to the air and emptying the magazine into one of the Model Fours. Storm started firing a moment later. The noise was unbelievable in the tight confines of the stairwell, with nothing but maddened screaming to accompany it. One of the aliens fell from above, crashing into those below it. The stairs here followed along the walls, with little platforms at every corner. Thats more or less where the Model Fours were hiding. Two of them couldnt even reach anyone at first, not until they dropped down with heavy bangs and started whipping out their many limbs at everyone. Two bursts of four micro missiles raced across the space between me and the monster. I heard eight satisfying pops and saw the beast tremble. It slid off to the side, dead. Storm stumbled back. He was breathing hard, sweat plastering his hair to his head. He flung the tentacles he was still holding onto to the side with disgust. Fuck. That summed it up. I moved past him, past the bodies of four or five of the people wed been with, and then up the stairs. The door at the top was opened into a corridor. This one was complete, at least, but the lights along the ceiling were all broken. There was light coming in from the window in the door at the far end of the corridor. I looked up, then along the ceiling and floors and peered into every shadow. It seemed clear. I didnt take any chances and shut the door. Jeff! Jeff you stupid stupid-- get up, come on bro. I clenched my jaw and kept staring at the closed door. Please Jeff. I swallowed and turned around. A glance at Jeff was enough to know he was dead. A spike through the skull would do that. The others though... Myalis, I need medical shit, just give me whatever, fuck the points, I understand. The sooner we begin, the more lives we are likely to save. Yeah, yeah. I stumbled over to the first, got on my knees, ignored the way my everything ached, and got to work. I wasnt equipped for this shit, but there was no one else around, was there? Chapter Twenty-Nine - A Crying Shame Chapter Twenty-Nine - A Crying Shame Chapter Twenty-Nine - A Crying Shame Nightmares? Stress? Are you suffering from PTSD or anxiety over the constantly looming threat of human extinction brought on by the aliens above? Then come to Theracore for a free psychological analysis. Our team of expert psychiatric interns will do their best to help you work past your fears and worries. Seven out of ten Theracore clients come out of the experience feeling revitalized and more confident in themselves. And our services are entirely free! Theracore; were here to help! *All information and recordings of therapy sessions belong to Theracore. On entering a Theracore clinique you waive the rights to any information you disclose to our expert psychologists, staff, and interns. --Theracore ad, 2055 *** Id felt shame before. Embarrassment. I can vividly remember some of the brats catching Lucy and I in a closet then running off to go tell everyone. Id spent an entire week feeling as if my face was aflame. As for shame, Id done some pretty stupid shit sometimes. But right then, standing next to a row of four bodies laid out next to the entrance to the stairwell... I didnt know how to describe the churning in the pit of my stomach. I kept going over all the shit I could have done to keep them from dying, and the stupid crap Id thought about them. They were slow and fat. They were dumb. They were annoying. And now they were dead and it was my fault. A hand touched my shoulder. Turning, I looked into Elisas deep eyes. She was teary, but there was determination over that. Its okay, she said. I worked my jaw. A glance to the side showed one of the women crying into anothers shoulder. Some of the guys didnt look much better. One or two were glaring at the alien corpses wed kicked to the side. Others were glaring at me. Youre down to seventy-two. I held back a wince. That was a chunk gone. I couldnt really complain though. Most of those had gone into medicine and the like to keep the others alive. As good a use as any. How much for a fresh magazine for this glorified flashlight? I asked. The Sparrow is more than just a flashlight. It fires .22 copper-coated iridium rounds at 1,200 rounds per minute. Unfortunately the magazine only holds 60 rounds. Its noisy and heavy, I said. But it has a light. I cant dispute that. A fresh magazine for your flashlight would cost you two points. I had my Trench Maker tucked into the back of my pants already, but a second gun wouldnt hurt. Yeah, might as well. A minute passed as I finagled and cursed my lack of a second hand, but I did eventually get the gun ready to fire. The anxiety was fading, just a little, replaced moment by moment by a growing, festering anger. Elisa was right. All of this shit was the Antithesis fault. The only way to really protect anyone was to make damned sure that every last one of the bugs were dead. And if I could get a few points for my efforts, then that was for the best. I took the steps two at a time, eyes fixing on every shadow and corner, and breathing coming quick even through my disposable mask. Getting caught off-guard again was just unacceptable. Im going to need something that shows me where the bastards are, I said. Something like a... radar. There are systems like that available. Im afraid that most are beyond your current budget. Lets hope that budget grows a little, then, I said. I got to the top of the stairs, looked through the window, then flicked the light on my new gun off. I didnt know how good the vision most Antithesis models had, but I didnt want to announce my presence quite that brightly. Lets find some aliens. Chapter Thirty - Model Six Chapter Thirty - Model Six Chapter Thirty - Six -this will mean a decrease of one to two percent on next term tertiary stocks. Thats barely acceptable. Can we lay off some chaff, cut that corner a little tighter? I want to break even at least. Ill see what we can do, sir. Our next issue is the New Montreal Incursion. Its landed close to some of our properties. The initial damage assessments dont look good. Werent those buildings still under construction? Yes sir. Then toss it to the insurance division. Tell me about the upcoming holiday season. Its going to be Christmas soon. Of course, sir. --Dickson Tech Enterprises. Owners of 2517 Trudeau Avenue. Current time minus one hour. *** I tried being quiet as I moved. Tried was the wrong word. I was quiet. Years of sneaking out from my shared room at the orphanage, days spent trying not to be noticed until I grew a backbone. I was damned good at moving silently. It''s why I think none of the aliens spotted me as I hid behind a counter. The entire floor, or at least a chunk of it, was dedicated to a food court. There were about ten or so restaurants lined circling the middle of the floor, with tables and chairs laid out all around next to the windows. That, on its own, wasn''t too special. I''d been in my share of places like this in malls and such. Then my attention was drawn to one of the bridges spanning the distance between this building and another, wider one across the street. The bridge itself was built like a sort of glass-roofed atrium. With twin rows of--now empty--planters inside it acting as rails of a sort except where a car-sized hole had been torn out. It was maybe twenty meters long, five wide, and jam-packed with aliens. Model Threes were sniffing about, Model Fours were stomping to the edge of the hole, each carrying one or two bodies, and sometimes crates of food or in one case an entire rack of chips. The thing worrying me was the lumbering beast standing near to the entrance. Whats that one? I asked. A Model Six. They are uncommon this early in an incursion, but they will begin appearing with more regularity by nightfall. I would suggest avoiding direct confrontation. While your current weapons could injure it, it would require a great deal of luck to actually kill the model. I could see why. The thing had six legs, set around a long, thick body covered in nearly angular plates. It moved over a little to get out of the path of a pair of Model Fours carrying an entire vending machine. The vending machine gave me a sense of much-needed scale. The Model Six was nearly a meter and a half tall, easy. Its face was a boxy thing, two sets of eyes on either side and a squarish jaw that was filled with flat-tipped teeth like some sort of camel. Whats its gimmick? I asked as I slid back down. The Model Six serves as a heavier Antithesis combat unit. They are also far more intelligent than most other models in the one to ten ranges and will act as a sort of command unit. Listen carefully and youll hear it issuing very basic orders. I frowned, but did as she asked, tending an ear over to try and make out any unique sounds. There was the hum of wind pushing into the building, the sizzle of a frier someone had left on, and the shuffle of aliens. Then I heard it, a faint, but distinct whistle that warbled and shifted in pitch. I nodded. Got it. So itll need to be taken down along with the rest. It does give more points. Great. I sighed as I pressed myself against the counter. I had to come up with a plan of some sort, but the only thing that came to mind was to fling explosives around and hope for the best, and that wasnt a plan. Or was it? How tough do you think that bridge over there is, and can I afford a bomb big enough to take it out? *** Chapter Thirty-One - The Bigger They Are Chapter Thirty-One - The Bigger They Are Chapter Thirty-One - The Bigger They Are They say they want to uplift humanity. Yeah, okay. Sure. Thats nice. And how do they go about this? Give randos some space guns? Yeah, no, thats not uplift. Sure, theyve got other things going. Every so often a Samurai will buy a blueprint and sell it to some corp or another. Usually its the highest bidder. And then everyone gets expensive hover cars. It''s all connecting, cant you see? They dont want to uplift us, they want to see what we do with their toys! And then they''re gonna steal our memes! --4Chan comment on the /ET/ board, 2021 *** There was no time like the present, but there was also something to say about being ready. I made sure my Trench Maker was tucked up tight in the back of my pants, that the bulkier Sparrow was ready and had its safety off, and that the four grenades Id bought (at five points each, theyd flung my point count down to fifty) were bulging out of my pocket. When Id asked for something that could break the bridge off the side of the building, Myalis had suggested something called a Spatially-Locked Graphene Garrot. It looked like a little cylindre with a thick black band around it, and, according to my AI friend, it would absolutely fuck up the local architecture without actually exploding. I had other toys. One was a little two-point thing that looked like a ping-pong ball designed by Salvador Dhali. It had a pretty red button on top, the sort that screamed press me without needing any labels. My thumb squeezed the top of the ball and it started to vibrate in little bursts, once a second, then twice, and shaking faster. A silent countdown. I flung the ball as hard as I could towards the far end of the cafeteria. It bounced off the ground once, then skid across the floor under it stopped next to one of those wooden boxes used to hide trash cans. The ball glowed a deep red, then began to hiss. Oh no, Sally, your leg! -- Its okay! We can make it! Help me up. -- Youre bleeding out. What if they come? I blinked as I listened to the terribly scripted discussion coming from the ball. What? I asked as I dipped back down. The moment I was behind the till, I glanced over to the side where Id been killing xenos. A few of them were missing. Back in the thai place Id been in already? It didnt matter. I lunged over the counter and sprinted towards the open bridge. There were more aliens there, some of them turning my way, distracted away from their work flinging bodies down onto the streets below. I tucked my gun under my stump and held it in place with my armpit, then I pulled out the first of my three garrot grenades. Yanking the pin out with my teeth, I flung it as hard and far as I could, and watched it sail over the heads of a dozen aliens. Id always had a good arm. The next came out just as the large Model Six whistled and every alien in the area started to move back towards me. I flicked the second grenade underhand. It bounced to a stop just a meter or so past the entrance of the bridge. Perfect. The grenade froze in midair a foot off the ground. The black band around it popped off, sending two metal bits skittering across the floor a moment before the device started to make a whining noise. A thin black circle appeared around it, first only a few centimeters wide, then larger and larger. One of the passing xenos set its leg through the blackened circle. Its leg was chopped into a hundred wafer-thin layers, sending the rest of its body crashing through the spinning blender of a monomolecular razor-ribbon. The circle expanded more until it was eating through the walls and ceiling in the bridge, turning them into faint dust. Through the haze, I saw a piece of the bridge at the far end fall to the ground. That would do. My last garrot grenade was flung over to a group of xeno running over to me. It would give them something to play with while I ran. The entire building creaked as the far end of the bridge gave out. The sudden stress on the closer end, coupled with the torn up section and my old pal gravity, did the rest. Just as everything went down, a huge black form leapt into the cafeteria. The Model Six was missing most of a leg, and it was covered in scrapes and cuts, but its four beady eyes still fixed onto me. I found myself with a strong urge to get the hell away. Chapter Thirty-Two - Fried Chapter Thirty-Two - Fried Chapter Thirty-Two - Fried Newbie Samurai are the best. Theyre still fresh and gullible. You can sign them up for all sorts of contracts no problem! --A salesmans last words during a live interview moments before being beaten by Emeraude, June 2026 *** The Model Six was a big, mean motherfucker. I vaulted over the counter of a burger joint, skidded along across a greasy floor with shoes that had no grip, and swung around while whipping my Trench Maker out. A quick count showed six, maybe seven aliens, the Model Six at their head. I had ten rounds in my gun, and maybe a five second head start. The first shot took a Model Three in the chest, the next buried itself in the mess of tentacles before a Model Four. Every shot had me turning a little, placing the red dot of the reticule over the next monster in line. Not all of them died, but the incendiary rounds did some nasty shit to their insides even when they were hit in some meaty bit. I didnt get to enjoy seeing the aliens burn up. Putting two rounds more or less centre-mass on the Model Six was easy. It was a big bastard and it was getting close. Seeing those two rounds sputter and burn in its chest, like matches in a windstorm, was a lot harder. Shit, shit, shit, I said as I turned on a heel and ran deeper into the back of the burger joint. Myalis, grenade! I shoved my Trench Maker in a pocket where it stuck out halfway and thumped against my side with every step. Sure, I said. Targets Eliminated! Reward... 265 Points I blinked at the number. Damn, I said. A respectable amount. I would suggest spending them sooner rather than later. Waiting until you are safe might mean never getting to safety. I licked my lips. Yeah, fine. Whats my total at? Three Hundred Twenty. I huffed in surprise. Damn. I can probably buy a couple of nice things with that, I said. I would suggest immediately buying a few select medical utilities. A second Nano-Regenerative suit, just to ensure that youre in better health. A Nutri Pack to keep you going, as well as a Cleanse to rid yourself of the remains of the Mind Krank Ultra youve taken. Its reached the point where its acting as something of an impairment. I nodded. Sounds like a start, lets get it done before going to meet the others. I coughed to clear my throat, then wiggled my pinkie in my ear. I need a few things. Something to reload my gun, and a holster for it. And I need... uh... more firepower, I guess. That Model Six had taken a lot to kill. It was probably worth more points for it, but the level of danger compared to a Three or Four was too damned much. I suspect that you need many things. If you want to continue fighting as you have; that is, by laying out plans, setting up traps and then taking down opponents in large groups, then perhaps youll want to split your investments a few ways. Additional firepower, more mobility, better sensor capabilities, and finally more advanced stealth systems. You wont be a Vanguard who charges in the front lines, but you may well be one of those rescuing the people caught in the crossfires. That... sounds nice, yeah. It did sound kind of cool. Perhaps we should begin with Auxiliary Weapon Utilities Class I? You could purchase auto-loaders, targeting computers, basic mounted weaponry and a few other utilities besides. Fifty Points for the entire catalogue! Chapter Thirty-Three - The Perfect Fit Chapter Thirty-Three - The Perfect Fit Chapter Thirty-Three - The Perfect Fit Fashion amongst Samurai is a quick-moving and vicious thing. Most lower-tiered Samurai will change outfits and styles at the drop of a hat, sometimes literally. Their mass market appeal requires that they stand out, at least a little, from those that came before. Thats why youll see such wild styles being adopted by some. The rise of entire sites dedicated to judging the fashion sense of some Samurai (and the shaming of Shamurai, or those Samurai who go too far with their style), the tabloids around them, and the way that clothing companies are quick to copy any interesting fashion on display has led to a strange sort of competition. Most of the established Samurai, strangely enough, dont seem to care as much about it. By the time theyve gotten that far into their careers theyve usually figured out the look and style they want to adopt. --Edith Rockwell, lead clothing designer, Nimbletainment Inc. 2032 *** New Purchase:Under Shoulder Autoloading Holster Mark I Points reduced to... 224 I stared at the box waiting for me on the ground, right next to a couple of other boxes that Id kicked around. Myalis had convinced me to get healed up properly before moving on. Then she got me to buy a juice box. I sucked at the little straw sticking out of the one-point drink until my cheeks caved in. It was, hand down, the best drink Id ever had. Both sweet and savoury, with a bit of a citrusy tang to it, and it left me with an after-taste as if Id just bitten into one of those really expensive organic apples Lucy and I had once stolen from the better part of the city. Point was, alien food was the best and worth every point. I can never give any of this to Lucy, I said as I yoinked the straw out of the box, then tipped it over for one last drop. I cant see how it would be bad for her. Points reduced to... 214 Five fresh magazines appeared next to the empty box before me. I took one and tapped it to the slim little box under my armpit. A trio of little arms unfolded themselves from the box, grabbed the magazine in little pinchers, then rotated around and behind me where I couldnt see them even looking over my shoulder. They slotted the magazine into one of the back pockets and then slid back into place. Cool, I said. I watched the little arms slot away three more magazines, then I stuffed my Trench Maker into place. The little arms got to work right away, tossing the empty magazine to the ground and fitting in a new one in under two seconds. Nice. I looked down at myself, then nodded. It even kinda looks cool. Does it come in colours that arent black? It does. You may pick next time. I didnt think it would matter. I perked an eyebrow. Which colours can I pick from? Which hex code is your favourite? I... nevermind, just curious. I have your measurements, so it should fit quite comfortably. I blinked, then felt the inside of the auto-loader. It was nice and padded. A quick zip, then some bouncing up and down revealed a few important things. When you said measurements, you werent kidding. If I gained any weight the damned thing wouldnt fit, but it didnt encumber my breathing or anything. Is there anything else you need? I... think this will do for now, I said. How much time had I just wasted playing dress-up with cool guns? I shook my head, considered putting on my torn up jacket, then gave up on that. I probably looked a mess with my black half-jacket and torn up and bloody clothes, but I looked like a dangerous mess, and that was a fashionable enough statement for me. I considered tossing everything in the trash, then gave up on that idea. The whole building was filled with dead aliens, it probably didnt matter all that much that Id left some junk on the ground. Time to go see if the others are still alive, I said. Chapter Thirty-Four - Rule Chapter Thirty-Four - Rule Chapter Thirty-Four - Rule If you look at a birds eye view of the first forty-eight hours of an incursion, youll be surprised to see how they spread. We imagine the spread as a sort of flood stemming from the centre and going out, but in reality, just like the plants they almost are, the Antithesis move a little more organically. The initial incursion and spread is relatively contained, but concentrated in a few areas. Five, six square kilometers of highly concentrated hive mass for the first dozen hours. Then they push out in a ring, a huge burst of expansion starting, usually, a day after the initial landing. That circle of expansion stops, new ground is consolidated, then a third wave moves out.e people compare it to breathing, and they wouldnt be entirely wrong. The process ebbs and flows, but it isnt constant. The amount of resistance they meet will often dictate the speed of the spread. --Professor Heinlein, excerpt from a lecture on the knowledge gained from early Antithesis studies (thereafter called Alien Anthropology), 2028. *** I came down to find the dozen or so office drones, Elisa, and Storm all just waiting around. There was a listlessness to them, like how I imagined people that knew they were dead would see the world. They turned towards me when I pushed the door open with a shoulder. I got a lot of stares, which wasnt entirely new. I was a one-armed cyclops with a few strange scars and a tiny bit of an attitude problem. Getting stared at was pretty damned routine. Youre all still kicking? I asked. Storm pushed off the pillar he was leaning against. We are, he said. How did things go above? There were a whole fuckload of aliens. Were being the important bit there. If we hurry we should be able to make it up without any trouble. I pointed my thumb towards the ceiling. Are you guys up for a bit of a jog? I got that they werent into the whole physical exercise thing, and who could blame them, but they didnt need to look like Id just asked them to take part in a puppy kicking contest. Come on, you can either get moving, or stay here and turn to alien chow. That got them moving with a bit more alacrity. As one big group, we trudged up the stairs, then spilled out into the backroom for the next floor up. I had to admit, I enjoyed the wide-eyed looks they gave to the dozens of pulped, melted and torn up aliens dotting the cafeteria. What was less enjoyable was seeing knee-high birds pecking at some of the corpses and occasionally taking bites with razor-lined beaks. What are those? I muttered. The climb was... anti-climatic. Just a few stairs up to the landing at the top. No aliens, no bodies. Its clear! I called down before moving to the door into the next floor. There was a barricade just beyond it, boxes stacked atop each other, with chairs and desks behind that. I swung the door open then waited next to it, out of the line of fire. Whos there? someone called. I felt my shoulders slumping in relief. Im Cat, I said as I brought my hand around to wave. Cute, one-armed. Samurai. You should know me, I hope. I poked my head around and found a nervous twenty-something in the Mall Cop security uniform looking through a hole in the wall of junk. Oh, yeah, okay. Uh, we can move some things. Cool, I said. Weve got a dozen others here. And that Storm guy. Storm and Jeff made it? he asked. Yeah, great. Ill tell Simmons and get some help for this wall. Just give us a minute! I sighed. Really though, I couldnt complain too much. I was so close to seeing the Kittens, and Lucy, again. Then wed figure a way to get the hell out of the centre of the incursion. Simmons showed up on the other side of the barricade just as the others started to come up. Some of them had pulled some chairs out of the stack to sit on, others were quick to complain about not being able to get past. Captain, Simmons said. You got my men back. I winced a bit. I got one of them back, I said. Simmons met my eye. Better than none. Come on in, weve got a few things to discuss. Im sure Ill enjoy the conversation, I deadpanned. Humans saved: 11 Points added New total: 226 *** Chapter Thirty-Five - Death Flags Chapter Thirty-Five - Death Flags Chapter Thirty-Five - Death Flags Samurai die. Just got to pick the most dramatic moment. --The late Silverhounds final words before the detonation of a low-yield nuclear charge in the centre of the Syrian Level Four incursion of 2034 *** We need you to help with the AA system, Simmons said. I raised an eyebrow at him, but the man didnt so much as blink. In the end, I broke eye contact first and looked over to where some of his security guys were rebuilding the barricade Id just passed. Didnt you have some IT guys that could get the anti-air back on? I asked. I did. We sent two of them up. Theyre dead. I felt my nose scrunching in distaste. Are there more xenos on the upper floors? I asked. There are more xenos period. Model Ones have started to flock around. If we leave now, we wont just be dealing with a few larger fliers, but entire flocks of those little shits, he said. If we can get the AA to work, itll at least serve as a distraction. He placed a hand on my shoulder and pulled me to the side just as a few survivors moved past with some wheels that look like theyd been torn off the undercarriage of a hovercar. The older man reached into one of the pockets of his vest and pulled out a small phone, one of the fancy sorts with a holoprojector. He fiddled with it for a moment, then projected a 3D map of New Montreal.T/his chapter is updated by He pointed to one building, a bit shorter than those around it, but still respectably tall. Thats us, he said. Then he pointed to something about ten blocks down, where the buildings started to lose some of their height. I sent some of my boys up with rangefinders. This is more or less where the front lines are set up. If we move straight South well be moving over the army in about fifteen blocks. Its not too far, a kilometer, maybe one and a half. How big is the incursion? I asked. Based on the time since its start, the landing point of the main Antithesis bodies and the position of the armed forces on that map, my simulation suggests a five kilometer wide circle. My eye caught on Lucys familiar form way off at the back. She was smiling, big and proud while she made wild gestures through the air around her that always ended with her hands snapping back down to make sure her crutches didnt fall. Marie was just before her, listening intently, but also blushing furiously. Lucy was no doubt pushing the boundaries of what the girl thought of as acceptable. Are you sending me alone? I asked. Can you manage alone? he asked. The last three I sent, as a group, they got to the top floor but didnt make it to the platform before one of them said something about birds. They went MIA right after. I glared at nothing. Im going to go say bye to the kittens, I said. I brushed past Simmons only for the man to grab me by the stump. Are you going to do it? he asked. Yeah, Ill do it. Touch me again and Ill... I dont know, shoot you or something. He let go. Thank you. Contact me when you set out, Ill make sure everyone is ready to go. Yeah, I said. My steps felt a little weird as I moved over towards Lucy and the others. Theres no need to worry so much. The plan youve concocted has a higher-than-average chance of succeeding. And youre my Vanguard. Ill make sure youre equipped for combat out in the open. Im certain youll survive. Your confidence is inspiring, I told Myalis. I do try. I reached Lucy, cutting her off in the middle of a story that I recognized as one of the times wed been caught doing things we shouldnt have. Cat? she asked. I like your jacke-- I pulled her into a one-armed hug and tucked my head into the crook of her neck. Just give me a minute, I said. Lucy, being Lucy, hugged back. Chapter Thirty-Six - A Matter of Trust Chapter Thirty-Six - A Matter of Trust Chapter Thirty-Six - A Matter of Trust There are people, real weirdos, who are actual fans of the Antithesis. They make costumes and symbols, they argue over facts about them online. Theyve got bug-sonas. Those really deep in those circles worship the aliens. They see them as a sort of divine punishment, or some sort of underdog alien. It doesnt usually make sense. Were happy to leave them to their own beliefs, most of the time. Theyre rather harmless. --Sergeant O''malley, New New York NNYPD, a week before the pro-Antithesis bombing campaign that took his life. January 2049 *** Im really starting to hate stairs, I said. Then kill enough Antithesis and save enough people that you can afford a flight system. I rolled my eye. Is that your solution to everything? I asked. Of course not. Its a solution to most things. Uh-huh, I said. Whats the retirement plan for Samurai anyway? A Vanguard can stop assisting against the Antithesis at any time, though youd need to survive with your monthly allowance of points, which is a negligible amount. I hummed as I started taking the steps two at a time. The faster I could get to the roof, the faster Lucy and the Kittens would be out of here. And then... and then Id figure something out. Ive got two questions, I said. Im always listening. Creepy. First, should I be getting something. I dont know, armour or better gear. And second, the AA installation, will I need anything for it? Its quite possible that youll need some sort of interfacing tool to connect to a Vanguard-designed system. As for your equipment. Yes. Yes you definitely need better equipment. So far every tool youve purchased has been, in a word, lacklustre and of low quality. A proper handgun would cost hundreds of points, armour the same. The issue is that your point total is quite low. Spending it all now on mediocre equipment would make obtaining better equipment later difficult. I stopped near an intersection and looked around the corner before answering. That answer came in the form of a shrug. I dunno. You dont feel like some corpo drone, or one of the volunteers at the orphanage, you feel... like you? Had the AI been doing something to ingratiate herself? Itself. I guessed so. She even said that she was talking and joking with me to get me to lower my guard. I guess it had worked. I appreciate it. Truly. And yes, while I am trying to guide your development with an eye towards long-term gains, I also want to see you doing well in the short term. Very sappy, I said. Did my profile tell you how much I hate sappy shit? There is a note that your behaviour during the filming of some commercials and PR events centered around the more... disabled members of your orphanage was sub-par. I could infer from there. I snorted. Give me my new toys, and lets keep moving. New Purchase: Basic Targeting System Mark I Points reduced to... 206 New Purchase: Hydra Autonomous Targeting Mount Points Reduced to... 106 I took in the two boxes below me, one small enough to fit on my palm, the other longer than my arm and nearly a foot thick and tall. I opened the smaller one first to find a small device, L-shaped, with intricate little projectors and some bits that I didnt recognize. Press the longer section over your temple, the round ball at the end of the other bar should touch the bridge of your nose. I caught on soon enough. It was basically a sort of square, half-rim monocle that stuck to my skin as if glued on. The moment it was in place the projectors fired up and I now had a HUD over my HUD. Thats going to be annoying, I said. Youll get used to it, I suspect. Its mostly there to track your eyes motion and its hardware will do a lot of the work that your current gear cant. It will make more sense once you equip your other new piece of gear. I shrugged and tried to ignore the impression that I had a lock of hair tickling my nose where the targeting system was pressed. The second, bigger, box had a much cooler toy. Oh, I said. Then I started grinning. Chapter Thirty-Seven - Armed and ready Chapter Thirty-Seven - Armed and ready Chapter Thirty-Seven - Armed and ready The human form is far from perfect, especially against something like the Antithesis who take biological weaponry to an entirely new level with each iteration. Now, keeping that in mind, you might wonder how the Vanguard, the ones who are accountable for the most Antithesis kills, manage against such large numbers. The truth is, for them, the form to which theyre born isnt the end. Additional limbs, cybernetic upgrades, or even just exoskeletal augmentations. The variations are innumerable, but the essence of it all is that the Vanguard learn quickly that being human isnt enough. So, they become more. --Essay by Professor Vernes of the French Acadmie des Sciences Extra-Terrestre, May 2032 *** I had to strip down from my jacket, shirt and bra to put on my newest piece of gear. Even then, it was a little bulky and cumbersome to put on, but, on twisting around to see the reflection of my back in a glass, it was totally worth it. The Hydra Autonomous Targeting Mount was a long, sleek piece of blue metal with overlapping plates that ran all the way from the small of my back to the base of my neck, with two little arms fitting over my collar. It even had faint pinkish lights glowing from between each plate. The biggest part over it were two curved bits over my shoulder plates. It stuck to my back, warm and not-quite-wet, each articulated joint pressed close to me and moving with the shifting of my spine and hips. It would make wearing a shirt a pinch awkward, so I left the tattered remains of my t-shirt on the floor and slid my auto-loader jacket on instead. The Hydra raised the two boxy parts up as I put my jacket on, then lowered them back down over the jacket, two little arms sneaking out from just behind my neck to hold everything in place. Right, how does this work? I asked. It has already synced with your targeting software. Bring a weapon to a point five centimeters above your shoulder. I zipped up my jacket, then pulled out my Trench Maker and held it over my shoulder. The box over my right shoulder blade unfolded a little arm reached up and grabbed the guns grip in a pair of clamps while a smaller, more articulate tendril gripped onto the trigger. There was a little camera set up tied to the arms, no doubt meant to aim. Cool, I said. A case appeared at my feet instead of the usual cheap box. For a moment I wondered if Id gotten the wrong package, but opening the case revealed two boxy gun-like things, and eight cylindrical magazines with flattened sides next to them. I picked one of the magazines up, then tried bringing it over my shoulder. The mounting behind my back unfolded and snapped the magazine away, then slotted it against one of the plates over my back. Alright, I said as I started passing the device all of the magazines one-by-one. Then I handed over the gun. The little boxy arms slid into the bottom of the gun, then locked in place with the zip of a drill spinning up. The gun twisted this way and that, then came to a hover over my shoulder. I was grinning as I picked up the second one and moved it over my other shoulder. They can reload themselves? I asked. Of course. I could get used to getting all of these toys. Right, lets move on, I said as I pushed the case aside. Having two guns the size of one of those energy-drink cans twitching next to my head was a little strange, it kept making me look to the side whenever it slipped into my vision, but it was also damned cool, so I wasnt going to complain. I moved on, feeling a little more confident in my step. I still had some points to spend, but not all that much time to spend them in. Maybe if I was going to be stuck here after the others left.. I set that thought aside. That little burning kernel of betrayal I felt was entirely misplaced. The next stairwell up had me reaching the museum proper. It was a little strange stepping back into the same corridor where wed hidden in the vault. Less strange was seeing well over a dozen Model Ones pecking at the bodies wed left behind, Antithesis or human. I pulled back around a corner and grit my teeth. How do I fire these things? I asked. Use your new sensor. Look to the corner with the targeting reticule, then let the system pick out its targets. Saying fire will do the obvious. I can also control parts of it for you, if youre otherwise too busy. I looked around until I spotted the symbol in a corner of my vision. Looking at it for just a moment made the projected screen before me glow a faint pinkish colour. The moment I poked my head around the corner little red dots appeared on all of the Model Ones. I stepped out from cover. Fire. Chapter Thirty-Eight - Flesh Melter Chapter Thirty-Eight - Flesh Melter Chapter Thirty-Eight - Flesh Melter Are you a true blue American? Are you a red-blooded patriot? Do you want to see those roach bastards take over this fine country, steal your children and enslave humanity? If you want to help real Americans, then buy Samurai Bonds today! A certain percentage of every bond purchased will go directly into the pockets of Americas heroes! --Propaganda from the United States of Kentucky, Texas and Oklahoma, Late 2035 ***Re?Ad lateSt chapters at novelhall.com Only I pulled out my Trench Maker, just in case. It wasnt needed in the end. The two guns hovering close to my head both twitched, each picking out a target at the far end of the flock of black-green birds. Two flechettes flew out of the guns with shots that sounded more like a pneumatic hose being disconnected than an actual gunshot. The birds exploded in a mess of feathers and gore. Just as the Model Ones started to react, the guns twitched, picked out new targets and fired again. There was nearly half a second between picking out a new target and firing. It wasnt a big enough delay for the Model Ones to do anything. I watched the pile of black bodies on the ground, some of the smoking where the explosive flechettes had burned fist-sized holes into their little bodies. Damn, I said. I trust the display is satisfactory enough? Best hundred-odd points Ive ever spent, I said. And it was. If that was the kind of firepower I could get for just shy of a hundred points, I couldnt imagine what kind of stuff old Samurai got to play with after a year or two. Targets Eliminated! Reward... 14 Points! Right, I said. So if I were a roof-access... thing, where would I hide? I started to cross the room, aiming for the entrance where I could vaguely recall there being a room behind the greeter android. Something shifted to the side. I turned to look, a hand reaching up for my gun in the same moment that something big and black burst out from a display showing off a long black trench coat draped over a mannequin. A Model Three, one of its rear legs crushed and crippled, its eyes locked onto me, its mouth opening wide. I fumbled to grab my gun properly and find the trigger. And then the guns hanging off my back opened fire, one from just behind me, the other from atop my head where it had stretched out to get a better angle. The Model Three shook and trembled as a dozen projectiles burrowed into it. Then it burst apart and the alien slumped to the ground while bits of its flesh and blood rained down around me. Fuck. Are you well? Yeah, yeah Im fine. I said. Just, nearly pissed myself is all. Please dont do that, it would be embarrassing. Shut up, I said with no energy behind it. Target Eliminated Rewards... 10 Points Now Total: 113 Points Well, at least there was that. I swallowed and continued making my way ahead, though this time at a much slower, more even pace. Every twitch and moving object in my periphery had me jumping until I took a moment to settle down. The android at the front, the one that had pissed me off so much, wasnt in the best shape. Something had plucked out its eyes and nipped at its plastic-y skin until it peeled off to reveal the hard-plastic shell beneath. I scrunched up my nose and vaulted over the counter, and with a final glance over my shoulder, moved into the bowels of the museum. Chapter Thirty-Nine - Long Odds Chapter Thirty-Nine - Long Odds Chapter Thirty-Nine - Long Odds There are all sorts of systems to determine the worth of a Samurai. The internet has many of these, from ranks based on popularity, to scales of theoretical power. The governments of the world have their own. These generally go from Tier One to Five, with a Tier One being a Samurai that can be used by the government, and a Tier Five being one capable of demolishing that same group. Most corporations have adopted a much simpler Phase system that goes from A to C, with the occasional D. --Excerpt from Understanding the Unknowable, A 2049 textbook. *** The door had a great big Employees Only sign across it. That part was easy to ignore. What wasnt was the heavy lock holding the door shut. I sighed and pulled my Trench Maker out from its holster, then backed up a couple of steps. I pinched my tongue between my lips and aimed down the sights atop the gun until it was nice and lined up. The .45 round tore a dollar-coin sized hole in the lock, a hole that glowed red and started to melt around the edges. A quick kick shoved the door open. Man, I love these bullets, I said as I looked into the next room over. There are plenty of interesting types of ammunition that might interest you. Ill earmark a few for future testing. Cool, I said. I was actually looking forward to it. And maybe... maybe I could use an arm. Im surprised it took you this long to ask. Your missing arm and eye are something of a hindrance. Yeah well, whatever, I said. Well find you a good one. Though I think that, in this case, you might want to invest in something of decently high quality. Perhaps a Class II prosthetic once you obtain the points and tokens to unlock that kind of catalogue. Tokens? that was new. Unlocking a Class I catalogue is simple, and a Vanguard can go very far just by unlocking a number of these. But Class II and onwards have technologies that are beyond humanitys current capability to reproduce. They are commensurately more expensive, and each catalogue requires a number of tokens to be unlocked. Think of them as signs that youve saved enough humans to earn technologies that could potentially endanger your entire race. That sounded like a shitty gimmick, and at the same time made some sense. Giving the crazies nukes was never a good idea. Class I is good for smaller things, right? Its more than sufficient, I think, for most of the challenges youll face. I would suggest aiming for Class II equipment in any field you truly want to specialize in. A new arm, for example, will not need to be replaced as frequently if the first one you purchase is of high enough quality. Right, right, I said. The employee only area was a bit of a crapshoot. There were boxes lining the sides of the corridor, probably with stuff for the museum, and I passed a little warehouse area with large industrial shelves packed with crap that I didnt think was terribly important. And then I found another locked door. This one was thicker, with a whole lot more warning signs on it. And in its centre, next to a symbol that warned that anyone passing the door without authorization would be fined, was a large logo. Longbow Industrial Weapons Technologies, I read. That sounds promising. What? He tilted his head a little. What what? Youll turn it on? I asked. I mean, its that or let ya die or whatever, so yeah. Itll make a few points before the bugs get to it and munch it up, Im sure. Damn thing has been a point sink anyway. I swallowed. That was... generous. Thanks? I tried. No problem sis. Oh, how about Stray Cat? Its free. What? Your name. I mean, you could go with your birth name, but thats uncool. I guess? I tried. He grinned while a third arm moved from off screen and pulled his cigarette out of his mouth. Im running a quick diagnostic to mak-- ah, fuck me sideways. He shook his head, and I had the impression he would have been frowning if he could. Right, bit of a problem, sis. What? I asked. Was this the other shoe? You cant turn it on? Oh, sure I can. But the doors above it arent opening. Give me a sec, Im looking for a camera around the city that has a view... and... theres a hovercar parked on the roof? What a dipshit. Theres yellow-tape an all. For fucks sake. Seriously? I asked. Yeah. Lemme see if I can take remote control of it, move it off the top. Longbow shifted to the side and a fourth arm brought a drink closer to his mouth, a fancy thing, with a little straw and a no-shit umbrella in it. Hrm, cars fucked. He looked by towards the screen. Think you can get up there and boot it out of the way? And then youll activate it? I asked. Sure thing, sis. Uh, you got a way to fly back down to your buddies? I shook my head. Well, looks like youll be stuck on the roof. No problem. Im going to pop the door open. Theres a door to another roof access. You go over, chuck the car off the side, blow it up, whatever, and Ill turn on the AA. Then you get your ass into cover and wait for the cavalry, alright? And my friends? I asked. Longbow smiled. Nothing to worry about, sis. Big bro Longbow will take care of everything. *** Chapter Forty - Rooftop Chapter Forty - Rooftop Chapter Forty - Rooftop The Samurai have developed a sort of community among themselves. At a first glance, this seems perfectly reasonable. A more experienced Samurai might have a lot to teach to one thats new, and while they are competing for the same resources, those resources are the sorts to get out of hand if not taken care of in a timely manner. Older, more powerful Samurai wont usually begrudge the newer ones taking their share of the workload. The truth though, is a lot more complicated than that, and quite a bit darker. --Professor Stephenson, Boston University, Late 2039 *** The room with the AA gun was... something else. Id seen some high-tech looking places on my media feeds, of course. Who hadnt? But stepping past the door next to Longbows screen was like walking into another world. The walls were covered in computers and gantries and little machines that were all hovering, literally, around a machine in the centre. The thing in the centre had a large glass dome built into its front covering two dozen camera and sensor-looking things. Two long forked cannons pointed ahead next to it. Railguns, if I had to guess. Beneath those were a pair of gatling cannons with barrels as big around as my wrist. There were more guns around it, smaller ones mounted on arms that looked like they could point in any direction. It was like looking at the physical manifestation of overkill. And it was stuck here, completely useless. I wondered how many aliens the thing could have killed if it had been deployed at the start of the incursion. When do I get to play with something like that? I asked. Most of the loading and repair systems are Class I. The railguns are Class II, the gatling guns are Class I. Longbows assertion that this cost approximately thirty-thousand points wasnt wrong. There are a lot of smaller parts from a variety of catalogues here. I suspect it will take you some weeks to be able to afford something like this if you did nothing but focus on it to the detriment of all else. Damn. Right. I can salivate over Longbows toys later.Re?Ad lateSt chapters at novelhall.com Only Can I keep a recording of you saying that? Longbows voice said across the room. I jumped about a foot in the air. And a recording of you jumping just there? he replied with a laugh. Fucking hell, I said as I looked around. Where are you? California, I have a nice penthouse here. But if you mean where in the room, there are a dozen speakers and some mics here and there. The back of the van was filled with discarded toys and the kind of accumulated crap that kids tended to grow around them like some sort of fungal infection. Theres no driving this thing off, I said. Do you know how to drive? Cant be that complicated, I said. But it doesnt matter. This ones fucked. I looked around for an easy way to move the car out of the way, but there wasnt a convenient crane or forklift just sitting there waiting for me. Were going to need to get creative. Or explosive. A concussion grenade might push the vehicle off the top. Hrm. Sounds noisy though, I said. I moved to the back of the van. The bumper there was buckled out, and I could see one of the pipes that probably served as a frame or whatever where the plastic body was torn out. That... gave me an idea. Can I get some rope? I asked. Not with your current catalogues. That garrot grenade had some rope though, I said. You could buy one and undo the rope quite easily, yes. Its more of a ribbon, but its not special, and the way it''s designed should allow you to unwind it without any danger. What are you thinking? Ill need something heavy. I eyeballed the distance between the van and the edge of the roof. Fifteen meters, give or take. For five points you could purchase an Artificial Mass Ball. It''s a single use item from your Esoteric Single-Use Explosive Devices catalogue. It makes itself and the things around it extremely heavy for a moment before combusting. Its rather niche. How strong is the, uh, strength of the rope bits? You know, when you pull it from both ends? Tensile is the word youre looking for. And its a chain of interlocking graphene blades. Its more than strong enough to do what you seem to be thinking. Cool. Well, give me one of each, and well try and see how my idea works out. Im certain there are better ways of moving the car. Yeah, but my way is fun! Chapter Forty-One - Anti-Air Chapter Forty-One - Anti-Air Chapter Forty-One - Anti-Air Top 10 SUREFIRE Tricks To Stopping Any Aliens From Eating You! Trick One! -Eat lots of avocado and other greens. The Antithesis are actually plants (amazing, right!) and if you eat lots of plants, youll give off herbivore hormones that will scare off those nasty aliens! Trick 2! -Keep a lot of matches and candles in your home. If an incursion begins, light them all up. The fire will scare them away. I like using Hapyy brand scented candles which leave my home smelling vanilla-fresh! Trick 3: -Subscribe to all the latest newsletters and media feeds about the Antithesis, especially the astrological incursion prediction feeds! If you think that theres going to be one near you, maybe its time to use your yearly two-days of vacation time and visit some family elsewhere! Trick four! -Refuse any vaccines your doctor tries to push onto you. They have scent pheromones and chemicals like mercury that attract the Antithesis! [...] -Except from a popular Vlog, 2027 *** Im sure itll work, I said with the tone of someone who was very much not sure it would, in fact, work. In one hand, I had a funky looking grenade that was meant to fuck with gravity, or mass, or whatever. In the other, I had no hand. Your certainty is certainly novel. I do look forward to the results. That was the cuntiest way of saying its not gonna work that Ive ever heard, I said. The artificial mass grenade had a handy little dial on the side, with tick marks for the number of gs you could add to it. I flicked the dial to max with my thumb, then wiggled the ribbon tied around it to make sure it was on tight. Fortunately, the grenade was a long cylinder, and was easy to tie to something. The cord dropped to the ground, passed underfoot, and went all the way over to the car where it was wrapped around the rear bits of the frame. I figured if it was good enough for Bugs Bunny, it was good enough for me. I flicked on the mass grenade and tossed it off the side of the roof. Then, because I wasnt a brain-dead moron, I ran off to the side and hopped over the railing next to the stairs leading to the roof access. The line went taut for a moment. I knelt down and waited with baited breath. If the grenade made any noise on activating, it was too far away for me to hear it, but the van jerked on the spot, its undercarriage, with its hover lifting bits and all, scraped across the corrugated steel cover. It stopped for a moment. For fuc-- Something deeper in the room moved. Poking my head around the corner showed the AA gun slowly rising, the ceiling above splitting apart to let in a deluge of rain that sloughed off the sides of the weapons platform. Right, I said. And then I''ll go back down, I guess. Nah, I told you. Cavalrys coming. You just hang on tight, okay? Not in the habit of trusting weird guys who call me without me having given them my number, I said. Ouch, you hurt me, he said while tapping at the middle of his chest. Right here in my primary cardiovascular sub-system. I rolled my eye and yanked the radio Simmons had given me out of my pocket just as the AA guns gatling guns started to spin up. The noise a moment later was enough to have me wincing back, it was like having a pair of chainsaws chopping through sheets of tin. Bullet casings, each as long as my hand from wrist to middle-finger, thumped onto the floor in a rain of brass. I yanked the door to the outside open, then stepped out and slammed it shut behind me. The gunfire was still loud, and now there was the drum of rain on the roof, but it wasnt quite as loud as inside. The radio connected to Simmons with a beep. Samurai? he asked. Yeah, its me. The gun works! I screamed. I can tell. The doors are opening and the busses are heading out... thank you. Yeah... yeah, youre welcome old man. See you on the other side! You too, maam. The line cut off. I pocketed the radio. That was cute. ETA for your evac is, like, five minutes or so? Depends on whether she believes me or not, really. Anyway, you keep the low-flying bastards off my rig, alright? Maybe get a few points while youre at it so you can buy yourself a shirt. I glared ahead of me, then nodded. Yeah, okay. Thanks Longbow. His grin widened. No problem sis. Remember, you owe me a drink! The call went dead. A peek over the edge of the roof showed the huge AA emplacement twisting this way and that, lines of displaced rain cutting through the sky and ending at whichever alien was dumb enough to poke its head out. The thing had to be firing hundreds of rounds a second, and its bigger cannons werent even going off yet. I heard the tell-tale whine of hovercar traffic and jogged to the edge of the roof. A dozen busses, all of them gathered together in a big lump, were racing out of the museums lower floors and towards the far, and hopefully safer, end of the city. They werent uncontested though. I saw flocks of Model Ones poking out and flying off towards them. They were too low for the AA gun to target. Myalis, I said. Targeting now. At these ranges, youll be wasting a lot of ammunition for every hit. Who the fuck cares! I didnt think you would. Opening fire now. Oh, and if you would be so kind as to drop to a knee and stop fidgeting for a moment, that would help. Chapter Forty-Two - Back Against the Wall Chapter Forty-Two - Back Against the Wall Chapter Forty-Two - Back Against the Wall You want to see a Samurai improve real fast and go from a non-threat to one scary motherfuck? Put their back against a wall and place an entire army of enemies before them. If theyre not dead within the first few minutes, then whatever theyre up against is right fucked. --Extract from an interview with AussieMan, August 2041 *** Seeing the tiny black forms of the Model Ones around the busses with all of my friends--with Lucy and the kittens aboard--fall out of the sky like autumn leaves was like lifting a weight off of my shoulder. The busses soon passed out of my range of sight, still hounded by a few flyers, but they were hovering over the faint outline of a barricade built across a distant street, with brightly glowing red flares marking safety, and a pile of wayward Antithesis proving that the safety was real. My guns went quiet. You have a few moments to purchase some things, I think. The AA gun will be attracting a lot of attention. By the way, heres your new point total... Targets Eliminated! Reward... 94 PointsT/his chapter is updated by New Total: 207 That was a fair amount of points. I knew exactly what I wanted to buy. Myalis. I need earmuffs. I see. Do you need literal earmuffs, or would any sound suppression system work? I want my ears to work tomorrow morning, I said. Forgive me, I didnt think it was that big an issue. Combat Sonic Suppressors cost ten points for a pair. They should protect your hearing without impeding it. Please, I asked while bringing my empty hand up. A box hit my palm with a satisfying smack. I was getting used to the whole teleporting boxes thing. New Purchase: Combat Sonic Suppressors Mark I I rushed to the edge and looked down just as a couple of tentacles slapped onto the edge of the roof and started to pull up a Model Four. I planted a pair of bullets centre of mass and watched it bump into another Model Four on the way down. Setting my legs on a V, I aimed down the side of the building and emptied my magazine into the xenos crawling up the side. At the rate they were coming, I was going to run out of bullets before they ran out of bodies to throw at me. Tch, I spat before pulling back and away from the edge. The last thing I needed was for an errant gust of wind of a shift in the rainfall to fling me off the side. Why the fuck werent there any rails? I shoved my gun back into its holster to let it reload and moved back towards the AA gun. I couldnt just run at the enemy all day, Id need to let them come to me. I made my stand next to the AA gun, back against a cement pillar that rose a few feet off the ground. Every minute that passed had more Model Fours crawling up onto the edge of the roof. Some stepped right into the range of the AA gun and were instantly pulped, but a few got lucky and came up behind AC units and from the lower sections of the roof. There were more of them coming up too, they were clever, in their own suicidal lemming sort of way. Avoiding the spots where others had been torn up, and finding a path closer using the bodies of those that came before as a sort of guide on where not to stand. Not that I made their life easy. Every flock of Model Ones coming in from a dead angle to the AA gun was met with a round of flechettes to the face, and the bigger bastards got to play with the inferno spat out of my Trench Maker. Myalis, Resonator! I called out as a group of Model Fours took to hiding behind some sort of junction box. The bastards were picking up bits and pieces of dead aliens and flinging them my way. Most got torn out of the air by the AA gun, but that cost it a few rounds every time, and I doubted it had infinite bullets to spend. I stuffed my Trench Maker away just in time to catch and activate a grenade that I caught out of thin air. A press of the tab and an underhand throw later, and the Model Fours were melting out of their cover. I felt at my back for the ammo I had left and winced. Myallis, Im going to need some refills. Im on it. Do you think you can find cover? Yeah, I said as I moved to one of the same AC the aliens had been using for cover. One restock later and I was back at it. I was probably racking up the points like mad, but it didnt matter overmuch, not with the growing swarms of enemies coming at me. Soon the flechette guns on my shoulders were only pausing to reload and my Trench Maker was growing warm to the touch as I fired non-stop into a tide of enemies. At the rate it was going I would either beat off the incursion from this roof all on my own, or Id have enough points to just fuck off all on my own. Or maybe the AA guns would stop firing at all between one moment and the next at the same time as my vision flashed. INCOMING CALL FROM... BIG BROTHER LONGBOW. Sis, you might want to find cover. My guns supply of cannon rounds was way lower than it should have been. Some fuckwit skimmed off the top. Im going to need to start using the railguns, and you cant be around when that happens. Chapter Forty-Three - Armed Chapter Forty-Three - Armed Chapter Forty-Three - Armed You can tell how experienced any given Samurai is by how human they look. If they could be any john or jane doe off the street, then theyre probably still green. If theyve replaced a few bits, then theyve been around for a bit. When you cant tell if they were ever human to begin with, then you need to start worrying, because it might not just be their appearance thats changed. --Jim Harris, Journalist in Chief for BCB International, February 2037 *** I didnt want to just abandon the AA gun. Not if I could still help it, even a little. Keeping the thing firing, even for a minute, would mean that many more dead xenos. Sure, they would come aground, collect all the alien goop, and just make more. But that would take time and resources, and maybe it would help others just a little. There was also the more selfish reason for trying to help. I wanted those points. I dont think I was hooked to the system or anything, but I could really use a few hundred extra points. Its why instead of running deeper into the building to find cover, I went back down to the door on the platform next to the AA emplacement and kept the entrance wide open. It overlooked the spot where the most aliens were sneaking up to the AA gun from. What I did was something like hunting down a flock of ducks by opening fire into the whole lot of them with a gatling gun. Model Ones would swoop up, Model Fours would pull themselves onto the roof, and I would greet them with a barrage of flechettes and incendiary .45s to the face. Myalis! I called out as I emptied a second and third round into a Model Four that was being tenacious. Ive got points to spend. You do indeed! Youve nearly accumulated a thousand points. What. Seriously? I asked. That was a frankly insane amount. What was I even supposed to buy with that many? I could probably buy enough guns with that amount to live a comfortable life for the next few years if I sold them all. That was, assuming I survived the next few minutes. I... was probably not the best at handling money, or points. Christ, Lucy would have been a thousand times better than I was at this. Myalis, I need stuff, I said. I can get you stuff. Where do you want to begin? I looked out of the door, then grimaced as I emptied the last of my magazine into a cheeky Model Four that flung itself over the edge. My shots echoed out into the open air, into a world that had gone quiet. The AA gun had been firing less and less over the last few minutes, conserving the last of its ammo while the smaller guns tied to it acted as point defence. Now it was entirely silent. How neural is that neural uplink? I asked. It''s smaller than I am, if that helps. It was dimensionally shifted directly into the folds of your brain above your cerebellum. Dont worry, such shifts only cause issues in point oh-oh-oh-one percent of all transfers. It will assist you in manipulating your new arm. You might have to adjust for the changed balance, but that shouldnt take more than a few hours. Myalis, didnt I tell you to warn me about shit that fucks with my brain? Not in so many words, no. Please do so, next time, I said. There was a box by my feet, an arm-length one. I made sure the door was properly locked and bent down just as the building shook again. Popping the lid revealed an arm. But it was more than that, of course. The arm was made of something that looked like brushed aluminum, with sections cut out of it to reveal a faintly glowing interior. There were a lot of openings and little cut-outs on there that looked like they were meant to do something. I pulled it up and looked at the hole where my stump was meant to go. It wasnt even padded, just a shaped cone that probably fit like a glove. I slid the arm of my jacket off and stared at the burnt mess that was my right arms stump. Id been right-handed, once upon a time. I wondered if it would all come back. The arm slid on, the glowing sections brightened. My new fingers twitched, and I felt them moving. I closed my new hand, and reopened it. A tug at my new metallic bicep pulled at my shoulder instead of popping the arm out like a suction cup. Nice, I finally decided. The first test of the arms agility was putting my jacket back on. It bent far more than a real arm should have been able to, but it didnt feel wrong. There are a lot of features with the Leopard. Its built of a high-grade titanium alloy, with incredibly strong servos operating every joint and has quite a few utilitarian features and built in weapons. I just need something to hold a second gun, I said. I couldnt keep the laugh out of my voice though. It probably wasn''t the time to be giddy but-- It has a built-in rocket launcher. Fuck it, giddy it was. I passed my flesh and blood hand over my new arm, taking in the overlapping plates of smooth steel and the small ridges that probably hid a bunch of goodies. Your fingertips can act as deployable multitools, except for your index and middle finger which have built-in plasma casters for cutting through... anything, really. I grinned. Im looking forward to giving someone the finger then. You are the model of hilarity. I snorted at the deadpan delivery. Right, right, this is fun, but theres still a lot of xenos out there. I held back a shit-eating grin. Myalis. I need guns, lots of guns. *** Chapter Forty-Four - Machina Chapter Forty-Four - Machina Chapter Forty-Four - Machina Theres an entire industry of trade where people, often scavengers working in some very specialized unions, will rush out to an incursion to pull the best, most juicy toys from the wreckage, often before the area is properly cleared. As you can imagine, their mortality rate is high, but for some, its worth it. Samurai tend to discard weapons at a moments notice. The trouble of selling something they wont be using anymore is often not worth the effort for them. Some are more generous, and will give older gear to soldiers and the like in the field, but often the gear theyre using is incompatible with modern doctrine or requires ammunition and maintenance thats beyond any civilians ability. So the scavengers come, and when they find a Samurais trail, they follow it like hyenas after an injured antelope. --Excerpt from After the Fall: A History of Post-Incursion Areas. 2040 *** I was down forty points. I also had four sub machine guns hanging around me from a couple of straps hooked onto their short stocks. They were called Stingers, and while they were cheap as shit and a bit bulky, they also had 120 round magazines that could be emptied with exactly thirty seconds of continuous fire. My Trench Maker was strapped in place, the pockets and holders on my back were full up, and my new arms rocket launcher was loaded up with three HE rockets that I could call up by thinking about it hard enough. It was pretty cool. I still had points to spend, but not the time to spend them in. At least, not if I wanted to protect the AA gun for even a moment more.T/his chapter is updated by Hesitation gripped me just as I was opening the door back onto the roof. The kittens, Lucy, were probably safe by now. They were across the front line and were no doubt being pushed into some sort of shelter or an evacuation area. I could just tuck away in some corner, maybe find a route towards the edges of the incursion myself. It would be safer, probably. Fuck me, I said as I slammed the door open. The roof was crawling with aliens. Model Fours, over a dozen, all huddled low and ready to move up towards the gun above us. Model Ones, an entire flocks worth, sometimes flopping down dead if they poked their head up too much and got tagged by the point defence guns. And more. Large winged models that I had only seen in flashes when looking out were circling the building. I saw hungry eyes turn my way. They looked first into my eye, then down to the two guns I was holding like the star of some samurai flick. I pulled back on the triggers and grit my teeth as the recoil had me stepping back. Twin lines of steel death washed over the nearest Antithesis. My left hand stopped firing way before my right. Myalis! Resonator! I called as I let go of one gun. A grenade fell into my hand, and in a second was sailing above the heads of the xenos still in my path. A wave of heat, followed by a rain of xeno bits, rushed over me. I had a second to blink my eyes and collect myself before I looked up and took in the devastation the rocket had wrought to the swarm. Broken Model Ones were all over, twitching and trying to get back to their feet. More were still in the air, but their tight formation was utterly lost. Still, there were hundreds of them, and it only took a glance to see more coming from afar. I had, perhaps foolishly, attracted a whole lot of attention. I heard a whistling-whine from above. The air began to taste like ozone. I didnt have time to wonder at that. The sky became filled with red lines cutting down from a point somewhere above me and poking through every single Antithesis I could see. The tableau held for just a moment, a thousand aliens, all skewered by red beams like hot-dog slices with spaghetti noodles through them. The light had only been there for a second, but it burned itself into my retina. It did a lot worse to the aliens. They began to tumble out of the sky, all of them very dead. My neck craned back and I took in the radiant form of my savior. She stood on empty air. Behind her floated a sleek thing that looked like someone had taken the latest Ferrari hover car and split it in half before sculpting it into some sort of weapons platform. Her body was covered in a matte bodysuit, but her arms were grabbing onto little trigger mechanisms that lead to a pair of boxy cannon-things linked to the platform behind her. Her legs were both slotted into giant mechanical boots that had opened up to reveal hundreds of glowing emitters. She dropped down with a low hum that sounded like something between the purr of a cat and the growl of an engine, but a whole lot more lethal. I couldnt see any weapons around her other than the floating cannons by her sides, but that meant jack. This woman was a bonafide Samurai, the sort movies were made of, whose face probably showed up on cereal boxes and who could definitely fuck me up without a second thought. Even the rain was curving way around her, as if afraid of getting her wet. Then she landed and I had to reassess that. The girl was a Samurai. She was a head and a bit shorter than me, and while her skintight suit was cool and all, it was definitely hinting at proportions that were imagined rather than real. When her mask split in three and folded away, it was to reveal the pouting face and chubby cheeks of a girl who had ducked under the puberty bat. Her flat blue eyes framed by long brown hair looked like they knew exactly what I was thinking and didnt like it one bit. Heya, pipsqueak, I said. I could fucking melt you and no one would blink an eye, she warned. I felt a very inappropriate grin tugging at my lips. So, youre the cavalry? She nodded. Im Deus Ex. Now get on, Ive got better shit to do than babysit your green ass. *** Chapter Forty-Five - Air Superiority Chapter Forty-Five - Air Superiority Chapter Forty-Five - Air Superiority The field of psychology has always been keen on studying Samurai, not just because of their celebrity status, but because their entire way of life is so different from the norm. Theyre normal humans until something triggers and they gain the ability to become more. The most interesting cases, though, usually revolve around the younger Samurai. Children, young teens at best, who gain powers and abilities that set them apart from the rest of humanity. Whats a parent to say to a child to whom the law doesnt apply? Can you force them to go to a normal school when theyre essentially celebrities? And when they reach the end of the second phase and their ties to humanity, as demonstrated by the Petra-Karpov effect, start to break down? Its a murky, and rather terrifying scene to behold. --Cynthia Eastwood, head psychologist, New Burkely U. 2051 *** I stared at the sleek platform, then at the girl standing with hands on hips before it. You want me to what? I asked. She flicked a thumb over at the hovering machine. Sit your ass down on that, and hang on. That doesnt seem safe, I countered. Id just gotten a new limb, I didnt want to have to replace the rest of them when Little Miss Pouts-a-lot crashed into the side of a skyscraper. Do you even have a drivers permit? She blinked. No, no I dont. I dont have a permit for the anti-tank laser cannons either, but most cops are too busy shitting themselves to ask. I know youre a total newb, but seriously, what gives? Her eyes narrowed. Are you afraid of heights? Nah, Im just, uh. I looked at the platform she wanted me to sit on. It looked like the rear end of an old F1 racecar. All sleek, molded metal and not a handhold in sight. How do I hold on? She sighed, then a few sections slid open on the back of the platform and a pair of wrist-thick tentacles slid out. Theyll hold onto you, she said. That is less reassuring, not more. How old are you to be going around with a tentacle machine? For a moment, Deus Exs expression shifted into the sort of juvenile disgust I was used to seeing on the kittens whenever Lucy and I did a bit of recreational tongue jousting. Longbow said you were a newbie, not a fucking perv. No worries, youre not my type, I said. I think I reached the end of her patience because she stomped--cutely--over to me, tugged my wrist forwards, and bodily flung me onto the platform. There was no way a pipsqueak that small had that kind of strength, but Deus Ex seemed to give no shits about my expectations as she pushed me into the arms of a couple of mechanical tentacles. Ill make it easy on you, she said. So shut up, and you get to sit down and enjoy the flight back. You mouth off like some punk, and Im delivering you to the FOB gift-wrapped. Your choice. Fine, fine, I said. I didnt want to admit that the girl scared me, but, well, she scared me. Good. She huffed, arms crossed over where her suit said her chest should have been. I cant stand folks who talk shit without being able to back it up. I wanted to point out that I could totally back it up, but a pair of tentacles grabbed my arms just above the elbow and then wrapped around my waist. In no time, I was pressed, sitting up, onto the hood of her platform thing. Uh, I surrender? I tried. Dont try being cute, she warned. Thats your corner of the market? I asked. She glared. Deus Ex sigh, spun around, and brought her legs up to her chest. Lock on--fire, she said. Her clunky boots unfolded and a hundred-off beams of light flashed across the road wed just flown down, frying every last alien there. Hurry up, she said. Two grenades popped into existence in my hands just as we rounded the corner. Simple things, which only needed a flick of the thumb to activate. I flung both towards the biggest gathering of aliens, then, because I could, I let loose with my shoulder-mounted guns. They had ammo to spare still, so it wasnt a loss. The Hyper Compressor grenades beeped once before sucking everything around them into a ball the size of a melon. Id seen vacuum seals at work before, and these seemed similar, if a whole order of magnitude more bloody when they caught a few aliens. Keep going, newbie, Deus Ex said. She folded her hands at the small of her back and began sliding her legs back and forth as if she was figure skating over thin air. So, pick out a specialty yet? I, I dont know? I said. Myalis... my AI said I should go for explosives and stealth? I flung a few more bombs down and marvelled at the glory of having aerial superiority. Huh. Not something you see often. A stealth bomber? I asked. Stealth period. If you saw it often, it would defeat the point, I said. She giggled, caught herself, then chuckled in a faux-mature fashion before looking over her shoulder at me again. I couldnt see her face under the mask, but I swore she was glaring. We dont have a lot of stealth specialists in the region. You might fill a niche. Whats the region? I asked. Hrm? Im part of The Family. Were about five, maybe six hundred members. Not the biggest, but were up there in numbers. You should look into joining. Ill think about it, I said. There was no way I was joining something called The Family. She shook her head. Youll figure it out. Or die. Or get stuck with some corp thatll hound you for years. I just want to make sure me and mine are safe, I said as I tossed out more grenades off the side. Myalis was giving them to me almost as quickly as I could fling them. You were protecting that caravan, right? she asked. My heart seized. Yeah, I said. She nodded. Ill get Lynus to make sure theyre set up well. Least I can do, since youll be busy the rest of the day. What? But instead of answering, the girl bolted ahead and took a corner so fast I was afraid Id get whiplash. Ahead of us, blocking off the entire road, was a barricade of soldiers and tanks, and a sea of dead aliens. We were safe. *** Chapter Forty-Six - A Call Chapter Forty-Six - A Call Chapter Forty-Six - A Call There are a lot of people that show up when an incursion starts. You might wonder which idiot runs towards the unending aliens swarm, other than a dutiful Samurai, that is. You just need to look at the payouts to see. Insurance companies hire out PMCs, or have their own military branches that secure buildings, real estate, and VIPs. Medicare groups want to rescue as many injured as possible. Police forces, especially those who charge by-the-saving are always quick to act. The big boys though, the ones who are always on the scene first? Those are the private PMCs. Every block they clear, every building they save, every alien dead, means a whole lot of credits changing hands. --Colonel Robert Oxford, September 2043 *** Id gotten stared at before. I was a teen who was missing an eye, an arm and who had ugly burns across her half her face. Worse, Lucy, the girl that I spent most of my day with, was the sort of pretty that could start problems. Id been the focus of attention that was unwelcome and ambivalent. I figured I was used to it. The amount of stares directed my way when Deus Ex shot past the front barricades--and the rows of tanks and milling soldiers--and came to a hovering halt some ten meters off the ground above a sea of displaced civilians and rushing soldiers was so far off the scales that they were sending shivers down my spine. She did something that had us dropping down only to stop the moment her heavy boots crashed into the pavement. The teen looked around, ignoring all the people that had backed off to get out of her path. She pointed off towards a row of tents going up alongside the road. There was a wooden barrier and a line of soldiers between us and the tents and pre-fabs and army trucks. See that van? she asked. Yeah? I said as I locked onto a row of semis. The tentacles holding me in place let go. I jumped off in a hurry. There should be some gear in there you can take. Simple shit. Just take whatever and replace it as soon as you can with real gear. Ill ping whoevers in charge and tell them to add you to a S and R squad. A what? I asked. She looked at me, my faces reflection off the visor of her helmet looking down at me with a mirror of confusion. Try not to die, alright? She pivots around, her mechanical contraptions displacing the air with a dull thrum, then begins to hover an inch off the ground. Oh, and dont worry about those you saved. Theyre probably fine. Wait! I called out. She actually waited, which caught me flat-footed for a moment. I wasnt one to give much of a shit about social hierarchies and the like, but even my thick skull could get around the idea that a Samurai was above a normie. The kittens. The orphans I was with. Where are they? Her shoulders drooped. Ill make sure theyre looked after. You just worry about the opportunity you have today. And with that, the girl twisted around--the back of her platform opening up to reveal a whole crapload of glowing thrusters--and shot off back towards the front line of the incursion. What opportunity? I asked. I think shes speaking of the opportunity to obtain more points. Joining a Search and Rescue party wouldnt be a bad idea. Fuck me, I muttered. Okay. Deus Ex mentioned that you guys had gear? Im not dressed for a party. I looked at my bloody and torn clothes. My jacket was fine, the rest not so much. Not the kind of party Id want to crash anyway. Yes maam! Clenze Private Military Inc. are glad to service you. He nodded severely and did an about-face. Please follow me, maam. Feeling a bit out of place, I followed the soldier and pretended to be okay with all the others forming up around me like bodyguards around a VIP, or maybe cops around a suspect. We beelined for the wooden barrier keeping the crowds away. A couple of soldiers wearing much simpler gear were quick to pull it out of the way and salute as we passed. Whats with all the civilians? I asked. Arent there shelters? The soldier ahead of me cleared his throat. The free shelters have all been filled. Most of these people either cant afford one of the available ones, or they were just displaced from the Incursion Zone. I arched an eyebrow at that. There were paid-for shelters out there? That was news to me. Not that I could have afforded one, probably. I took in the buildings around us. We were on the edge of downtown. The buildings around me were mostly ten or so floors up. The centre of the incursion seemed to have hit somewhere along the edges of the city. It would probably be spared if the local Samurai shut the incursion down. I licked my lips. I was one of those... shit. This is our armory, maam, the soldier said as he gestured to a matte-black semi-trailer with a ramp leading into its back. Take what you need. Free of charge. I wasnt the sort to say no to free shit. At least, after I made sure there were no strings attached. How do I sign things out? You need to know what I took, right? The soldier shook his head. The items are all bar-coded. Theyll be marked as lost inventory the moment you take them. And taking one wont lock me into a contract? The soldier laughed, genuinely mirthful. Even the others around him joined in. You dont pull a fast one on a Samurai, maam. Not if you expect to live a life free of vindictive orbital bombardments. What? I decided to set that aside as I climbed up the first couple of steps into the truck. Then I remembered that I was a teenaged girl about to enter a strange unmarked car and my survival instinct kicked in. Myalis, this thing legit? I asked. I cant see anything wrong with it. The equipment here is probably sub-par though. I suppose it could save you a few points spent on other things. Right, I said as I took the last few steps into the truck. It was, as soldier-boy had said, an armory. Racks, most of them empty, lined the walls next to metal crates and even more racks. Guns, rifles and pistols, boxes of ammunition, neatly folded clothes. There was everything someone needed to start a party except for some hot headed idiots. Nice, I said as I drew the door shut behind me. Barely passable. For the record, your current point total is sitting at two-thousand two-hundred and seven. You have also obtained one token. I blinked. Then I grinned. *** Chapter Forty-Seven - Shopping Spree Chapter Forty-Seven - Shopping Spree Chapter Forty-Seven - Shopping SpreeRread latest chapters at novelhall.com When you have some select people who can buy anything, suddenly the market for anything starts to look really interesting. From exotic weapons, to hyper-advanced engines for preformance cars, to literal alien pornography. Theres a market out there, and were just trying to meet its demands. -- Interview with the CEO of Samazun, 2031 *** I had to sort things out one at a time. Okay, okay, I said. First things... where did the token come from? You obtained your first token from saving over a hundred civilians. I thought it unwise to bother you with the announcement while you were in the midst of a battle. Cool? Next time just tell me. As you wish. Right. I looked around the mobile armory and licked my lips. There was probably some good shit here. I needed a few things too. Pants, for one, and some boots that werent stained in alien goop. Maybe some socks too. I started to search through the stacks as I thought. It was better to keep busy. I didnt have forever to shop around here. It was only a few minutes into comparing pant sizes that I noticed that I wasnt using my right arm at all. Weird. Lets spend some points, I said. Wonderful! Might I start from the top? Uh, yeah, sure, I said. There arent any cameras in here, right? There are. I can blur out your form for privacy, if you want? Please? I asked. Consider it done! I nodded. I didnt need anyone knowing the color of my intimates. Having two pairs of fingers make buttons so much easier to deal with. I had set aside a pair of thick cargo pants that had built-in kneepads. From the top! Your current aug-gear is outdated, even by humanitys standards. New gear would require that you unlock a catalogue and then purchase some equipment. Based on previous discussion, Id suggest the Basic Cyberwarfare Class I catalogue. Alright. New aug-gear. Cool. That could be handy. Can we get something thatll allow you to hack into stuff? Certainly. After that, I would advise that you improve your stealth-based capabilities. Even with your current points you dont have enough to buy the kind of things needed to be a heavy-hitter. I started to pull on a pair of nice boots, then paused. Are there stealth clothes? I asked. Of course. Got any good boots? There are a few. Mark II Silent Runners would cost you two hundred points, but come with a lot of utility. The same price as my arm? I tried to imagine boots that were that cool. Ill take them, I said. And something like a cloak... no, a trench coat. But stealthy. I... can find something like that as well. I began to suspect that Myalis was either amused or confused by my sporadic purchasing. Awesome. And I need a gun. A bigger one. Perhaps a silent weapon? An overly loud gun would render a lot of your stealth capabilities null. A crossbow might do. You could purchase different sorts of bolts with unique payloads from your Esoteric Explosives catalogue. What? I asked as I tore the disks off. As she said, there was a bit of blood on their underside. The fuck? The system unleashed a swarm of construction nanites under your skin. Some took over and rebuilt parts of your old aug-gear, the rest replaced it wholesale. You should be passing the unnecessary elements the next time you visit the facilities. I blinked and tried not to think too hard on that. The new gear... looked the same? I looked at a bar-code on a rack across from me and a screen instantly popped open. No delay that I could see, and the resolution on the letters was incredible. No more pixelation. What about the cyberwarfare bit? That package is purely software. Its been installed already. No boxes, Im afraid. Unless you wanted the software delivered as solid media, which is an option. Like in a thumb-drive? I asked. Id seen those in text books before. Or as another kind of drive, or a stack of CD Roms, DVDs, floppy disks or reels. I would advise against most of those unless you require ballast weight. I moved onto the next small box. It had an eye. I stared at it, and it, seemingly, stared back from within the confines of its styrofoam-like pad. Next to it was a tiny spray bottle, like one of those perfume samplers. Spray that into your eyehole, then place the eye inside. Oh, hell no, I said. Its a very advanced piece of technology. Youll be able to see across a wide range of the colour and visual spectrum, with incredible accuracy over long distances. It will also interface with your aug-gear if you ever need it to. Placing the eye shouldnt hurt. I bit my lips and took the eye out with mechanical fingers that didnt shake. I winced at the thought of shoving the ping-pong ball sized thing into my face, but, well, Myalis hadnt fucked me over yet. Opening my eyehole wide, I sprayed the spritzy stuff within and instantly lost all feeling on that side of my face. No wonder it wouldnt hurt. Shoving the eye in was an experience that I wasnt keen on repeating, especially when it started to rotate around in my skull. And then, suddenly, I could see from both eyes again. Holy depth perception, I said as I took everything in. My eyesight in my normal eye was fine. 20-20 or whatever, but now, when I closed it, it felt as if I was missing out on half the details available in the world around me. I could see the texture of cloth from across the room and motes of dust hovering in the air. I would suggest the boots next. Myalis snapped me out of my reverie. Yeah, okay. The boots were... boots. They were neat, made of some sort of black material and reaching up to mid-shin, but they were just boots with some steel plates atop them and no obvious buckles or laces. Theyre auto-adjusting to fit, have an impact resist system, have self-adjusting friction, do not leave any footprints, can grip onto vertical surfaces, and dont make noise when moving. Well, that helped. I took off my dirty socks, winced at how messy my feet were, then used a t-shirt from a rack to wipe them clean before slipping them into the boots sock-less. Oh, wow, thats soft, I said. At the point-cost, comfort shouldnt be negotiable. They are, of course, vacuum sealed once worn. Your feet will remain in an environment with optimal levels of humidity. I stood up and bounced on the stop a few times. It... didnt feel right. The lack of sound, the super light impact. That was going to take some getting used to. The next box was the coat. It was, in a word, sexy. I was grinning like a loon as I tossed it on. There were slits in the back, covered by mag-strips keeping them shut, for the arms of my back-mounted weapons. The front had a tall collar that stopped just short of my nose, and a large, proper hood that could fit three of my heads. The material was a flat black so dark it was almost fucking with my vision. Still, I could make out centimeter-wide hexagons all over it. It was stealth-bomber chic. The edges of it reached down to my knees, and the sleeves to mid-hand. It was a bit snug over my auto-loader, but not so much that it would be a problem. Activating the coat now. I didnt have time to ask what she meant that half my body disappeared. Ohhh, I cooed as I looked at my hand, and only my hand. My arm was just... gone. Wiggling it about showed the space where the rooms shadows hit the coats material just-so, but it was damned hard to make out. Looking down only revealed a few inches of leg and my new boots. This is sweet, I said. It also interferes with electronic sensors and thermal vision, though some higher-tier Antithesis will still likely spot you, even with the coat. A polite knock at the door had me looking up. We should hurry this along, I said. Chapter Forty-Eight - Rail Shooter Chapter Forty-Eight - Rail Shooter Chapter Forty-Eight - Rail Shooter Samurai are separated by Tiers which classify them as follows: Tier 1: Capable of matching a Squadron-level deployment of modern soldiers. Tier 2: Capable of matching a Main Battle Tank Tier 3: Capable of matching a UN-Standard Artillery Battalion Tier 4: Capable of matching a Navy Flotillas firepower Tier 5: Capable of matching a Mid-Yield Thermonuclear Device Do NOT Antagonize Samurai at or above Tier 4 under ANY circumstances. They are to be considered Free Agents, Independent of any chain of command. --Excerpt Cross PMC Samurai-Military Decorum Package, Sixth Edition, 2054 *** There was only one box left to open. It was a big sucker, maybe half a meter long and a foot wide. This is meant to be my new gun? I asked. In a manner of speaking. The term gun might be incorrect, though it does fire a projectile. And now I was worried again. I knelt down, my awesome new coat pooling around my feet before I used both hands to snap the box open. What greeted me had me pausing until a stupid smile touched the corners of my lips. Myalis. Is this a railgun? Not exactly. Its a magnetically assisted silent-firing bolt launcher. The projectiles fired do not break the sound barrier, and are rather heavy compared to standard ammunition. The not-a-railgun was that same dark-blue as my back-mounting, with a faint pinkish glow coming from between two forks that ran the length of the weapon. Everything about it was angular and sharp, from the pistol grip in its middle to the rubber padding on its shoulder rest. Even the scope above it was squared off. I picked it up, surprised by how light it was. At the front, just before the foregrip, were a pair of little legs in a folding mount, and the side had a box that was obviously meant to be yanked out. There was even a strap on a little spool built into the stock that unwound like one of those old-school belt buckles. I had to stow my giddiness and get down to brass tacks. What does this fire? I asked. Pick an explosive from your Esoteric Explosives Class I catalogue and for a small fee, a magazines worth of bolts can be produced for firing. It is currently loaded with ten silent concussion bolts. I got another unnecessary salute and then we were off. We were getting a lot more attention now. The normal folk on the other side of the barrier were pointing, and some were taking pictures. The soldiers running around did so while standing a little taller and no one blocked our path. Did they know I was a Samurai? I certainly had part of the get-up, but it was nowhere near as obvious as someone like Deus Ex. I walked a little taller, just in case. Image was important, or so Lucy always said. We reached a line of trucks and tents all parked in neat rows some hundred meters from the line of tanks and sandbags holding off the incursion. The occasional bark of a rifle, or the splutter of automatic fire would sound from over the wall. This one, maam, my escort said as he moved to a prefab building with tin walls and opened a door before it. I nodded my thanks and stepped into what my pop-culture fed mind immediately labelled the command room. There was a row of comfortable chairs at the back, each one with someone jacked in sitting on it, their eyes twitching like mad as they surfed the net. Before them was a projector table around which a few folk in nicer uniforms were pointing and talking, the mouth pieces over their lips suggesting it wasnt to each other. At the far end stood a tall woman in the fanciest uniform of them all. She looked up as we walked in, orange hair catching on the shitty LED lighting. Youre the newbie Samurai? she asked. Um. Yeah, I said. She nodded. Just awakened today? I wasnt the sort to balk at authority, but this bitch looked like she ate cats for lunch, and not in the fun way. A few hours ago. Inside the incursion. Had to hitch a ride over. She glanced at my gear, then grinned. You did well for yourself in a few hours, I see. Killed plenty of those god-forsaken xeno scum! Good work. Thanks? But the reward for good work is more work. She moved over to the projector and shooed the other away from it. A moment later there was a 3D map of New Montreal with a spreading red cancer in its middle and a blue tide all around it. A few green points were moving around too. She pointed to part of the map. This is where we are. Weve got one other tier one samurai in the area. Were not at the epicentre of the incursion, so were only catching a dribble of the bastards for now. That will change. There are six hours left before the big guns turn the centre of the city into a pockmarked hellhole. Thats six hours to evac every last civvie we can. More shapes appeared in purple. Boxes across the entire city. Priority targets. The Childrens Hospital was cleared by a Tier Three, as was everything that had a single thought about fucking with sick kids. But that leaves a few other care places unassisted. The smaller boxes are vaults. They need to get evacced. Were sending ten teams from here, each with priority targets. I want you on one of them. So, an escort mission. I said as I tried to keep my jitters down. You can fuck off at any time if you want to kill more of those weed bastards. Id appreciate my boys and girls coming back though. I nodded. Was I getting swept up in something again? Lucy said I didnt have a backbone sometimes. I licked my lips, then nodded again, harder this time. Im in. Chapter Forty-Nine - Hunters Chapter Forty-Nine - Hunters Chapter Forty-Nine - Hunters They call themselves Hunters as if theyre big-game hunters straight out of some early nineteenth century Victorian gentlemens club. Normal blokes with too much time and money on their hands who rush over to incursion sites armed to the teeth. They capture their hunts on video then use them to brag to each other. The best ones have followings online and promote all sorts of stuff. Sometimes theyll even run across a passing Samurai and either get told off for being morons or will get a pat on the back for killing some xenos. --Extract from a Reddit F.A.Q., 2035 *** I parted from Major Hunt with a slap on the back for my good xeno killing work and a shove back to my babysitter. I was instructed to escort you to advanced team fifty-one, the big guy said. Nodding, I followed him out of the little command tent and back out onto the bustling main ground of the temporary base. Now that I knew just a bit more about what was going on, I could appreciate the groups of soldiers running past and the rumbling of vehicles heading to the front a bit more. We waited as a large armoured van passed by, its back door opened to reveal twin rows of normal folk all huddled together and looking like they had been through a nightmare.Ge?t latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om People rescued from the incursion zone? How does the whole saving people thing work? I asked. I mean. Say I find a bunch of folk out there. Do I escort them all the way back? Soldier boy shook his head. No maam. If youll allow us to connect to your aug-gear, well give you the locations of forward bases and rendez-vous points. Escorted combat groups will meet up with you there and take any VIPs and civilians back here to be processed and evacuated. I didnt like the sound of processed. He said it the same way someone might process someones credit info, which was probably exactly what was happening. As long as they didnt try to pull any funny business on my Kittens Id honestly probably not do anything about it, but still. Do I have a target or something? I asked. He shrugged. Finally a crack in his little professional attitude. We reached a spot near the barricade where little all-terrain vehicles were parked, little Humvee look-alikes with roof-mounted guns and actual wheels instead of hover systems. It was all a bit old-school, but judging by how armoured the things looked, it wasnt too surprising. Team Fifty One, soldier boy called out. Eight soldiers, all in the same flat-grey almost-armoured uniforms as my escorts lined up in two rows before me. They varied in height and stature, but they all seemed like they could handle themselves. One of them stepped up, the shortest one in the entire lot, but also the one with the most marks on his shoulders and breastplate. Team Fifty-One reporting, he said. Soldier boy saluted. Im handing off Tier One Samurai Stray Cat into your care, Team Fifty-One. Acknowledge, Short-stack said with a return salute. O-kay, I said as I leaned into the most uncomfortable seat ever. The gear hanging off my back was cool and all, but it wasnt made for sitting down comfortably. That answers that. I guess well get to the hospital and give it a look-see. Is it in any danger? We dont think so, Monroe said. The hospital has its own security force. Its one of those nice private ones, with the VIP ambulances. Its also pretty far from the red-zones. Red-zones? I asked. He was quick to fill in the gap in my knowledge. Zones go from black, which is full-on hive territory, to red, to orange, to green. White zones are outside of the incursion area. The hospital is on the outside of an orange zone. Some aliens, but not that many. Mostly advanced scouts for now. Then arent we a bit of overkill? I asked. The other two soldiers looked at each other. You might be, maam, Monroe said. But were not equipped for anything past the single-digit models, which is what will be popping up in the red-zones soon enough. Was I overestimating myself? The hospital run was starting to sound like it was meant to be a cake-walk, the tutorial area that Id missed out on. Well see, I said. I chose to change the subject. What are you guys equipped for? Were all equipped with light arms, and we have two heavy fraggers with us. If we can set them up, we can cover a decent choke-point. The fuck is a fragger? I asked. Monroe chuckled. Not all of us have a Samurais aim, maam. Hitting the smaller models is hard, so our heavy guns fire fragmentation rounds that burst in mid-air. Theyll clear out a flock of Model Ones in no time. I nodded. Were they scared of Model Ones? They were kitted out like pros; it didnt make sense that theyd be afraid of some demon pigeons. Thats nice, I said. A moment later I was distracted as we rolled past the barricade. I had been wrong when I assumed that it was just a pile of sandbags. There were also thick cement barriers in the middle of it, with platforms above where gunners had set up. The opening left for trucks to pass was barely wide enough for us to move through, and the thing blocking it was a heavy tank with a stubby gun mounting on its turret. I craned my neck back to watch the tank as we went by because it was a tank and those were pretty fucking cool. Looking for inspiration for your next ride? the driver asked. You mean the tank? I asked. Im afraid that the Armoured Assault Vehicle catalogue would drastically reduce your point count. The class I catalogue alone costs five hundred points, and a vehicle comparable to that one would easily cost a few thousand points. I clamped my mouth shut. I didnt want to be caught out screaming I can buy tanks?! while around all the soldier types. Yeah. I saw a Samurai tank once, the driver said. I heard groans from two of the three soldiers behind me. Its true! the driver defended herself. I leaned back into my shitty seat and sighed. I wanted to be back with Lucy, not heading in exactly the opposite direction. Chapter Fifty - Milk Run Chapter Fifty - Milk Run Chapter Fifty - Milk Run The idea of shelters for cover and protection harkens back to World-War Two Britain, where buildings were built where people could find cover during bombing runs. During the Cold War, fallout shelters appeared across the world as countries feared the approach of a nuclear assault. Re?Ad lateSt chapters at novelhall.com Only Surprisingly, it wasnt until the third major incursion that governments began to invest in the production of incursion shelters. Before that, even with the warning from Samurai across the world, most nations chose to believe that the initial incursions were one-off events. Now, nearly every city has at least one vault per block. These range from private, pay-to-enter facilities comparable to hotels, to large cement structures where thousands can huddle together and pray for salvation. --Extract from A History of the Vault, 2034 *** Our little caravan of two rolled across barren streets, sometimes twisting around abandoned hover cars and wheeled, automated semi trailers whose programming had glitched out as soon as the incursion began and the traffic came to a stand-still. I leaned my head against the window and wished that we were moving faster. Hey, Myalis? I asked. Yes? Are we doing the right thing? The AI took a while to respond. I was sure it was an artificial pause. It would depend on where your priorities lie. If you are looking to help the locals while also remaining relatively safe, then what youre doing is, without a doubt, the right thing. The probability of meeting any heavy resistance is very low. And if my priority is to help the most people? I asked. In that case you would need to head towards the centre of the incursion and do your best to stem the tide, as it were. The risks inherent in that are quite high, and I do not think you are equipped for such yet. Though you do have some points to spare. I scrunched my nose in thought. Were the others in the car listening to me speak to someone what wasnt there? Judging by their silence that was a resounding yes. I figured being a Samurai meant that I was allowed a bit of eccentricity. Whats the middle ground? As it stands, thanks to your upgraded cyberwarfare suite, I was able to glean some surface information from the organization you agreed to assist. There are seven vaults between the hospital you are heading to and the nearest orange zone that were marked as low priority. There is a good chance that the people within those will not be rescued. Depending on how the other Vanguard respond to the antithesis threat, their lives might be forfeit. Shit, I said. What about deeper in? I sat up straighter. I could imagine being stuck in a vault, wondering if someone was coming to rescue me. Hell, I didnt need to imagine it, that had been me some hours ago. The vaults within the orange zones, other than those with VIPs, have been marked as losses. Most of those within the red zones have been breached already. I chewed on my lip. Right. Turning, I looked to the driver, then over my shoulder to Monroe. Okay. Bit of a change of plans, I said. Could I do that? They were treating me well enough, but so far Id been playing along with their script. Were heading past the hospital and into the edge of the orange zone. There are a few vaults there that are still occupied. Very well! Oh, yeah, I got it, the driver said. I turned around to face the sergeant. Are any of your guys coming with me? Or are you all going to stay and defend the cars? Monroe rubbed at the underside of his helmet where his neck was hidden by some rubbery material. Ill send fireteam Bravo with you. Thats myself and three others. Fireteam Alpha can guard the vehicles. I nodded. Four of us, plus one of me... Myalis, any idea how many people are in those shelters? The first one I marked is a small private shelter linked to four apartment blocks. Its maximum capacity is four hundred, but from what I can tell there are only sixty residents within. I suspect most were out of their home when the incursion started. The second shelter is a municipal one. Capacity one thousand. Its at double that. Double... so two thousand civilians in one shelter? Id seen mega shelters before. They were cramped places with beds and some food and seats. Like a really weird cross between a subway station and a motel. Fuck, thats a lot of people. Maam? I frowned at the empty air. First shelter had about sixty people in it. Thatll be difficult to corral with just four of us, but Im certain we can manage if theyre cooperative. It wont be too much of a strain on the busses from the hospital either. The second shelter has two thousand. There was a long bit of silence. Well fuck, the driver finally said. The fuck are we meant to move that many meatheads? Stow it private, Monroe said. Ill... see about getting more transports to come to the hospital. How in the fuck did so many people stay behind? I wondered. It was a dumb question though. We had almost stayed in the tower we were in, with its fucked up shelter and all, and that was in the middle of an orange zone. How many groups of strangers were left in the city? Those crowds near the barricades, were there enough people there to account for the millions that lived in the area of the incursion? What about those that couldnt move so easily? I felt a bit sick to my stomach as the full scope of the incursion started to press down on me. And I was one of those meant to save them all? Myalis, those other shelters? I left the question hanging. The map returned, this time with numbers over each shelter. The big one on the edge of an orange zone was the largest, but a couple of others had over five hundred people stuck in them. That wasnt going to be easy, or pretty. Were going to need a lot of busses, I said. Chapter Fifty-One - Along for the Fun Chapter Fifty-One - Along for the Fun Chapter Fifty-One - Along for the Fun There was a strange surge of semi-religious action in early 2021. Most modern religions, from Christianity to the Islamic faith, couldnt handle the existence of extraterrestrial life, either life that was incredibly hostile and antithetical to human life, or the existence of multiple races so much more advanced than humanity that they seemed nearly deity-like. The clergy scrambled to reason with their flock. And while they did so, new organizations and quasi-religions rose to fill in the blank left by the larger religions. From paramilitary groups that built themselves up as cults, to organizations that worshipped the god-like Samurai. One of the final nails in the coffin on the great religions was the Protectors declaring that there was no magic to be found, no supernatural that they had observed, and that every miracle and disaster could be broken down into repeatable phenomena. --Excerpt from The Rise of the New American Way. 2030 *** The route cutting across the green zone and towards the first shelter Id marked out happened to cross before the hospital. So, with a pang on my conscience, I had the driver pull up and stop before the large building. Like most modern structures in New Montreal, the ground floor wasnt actually designed to be all that accessible for normal people. The real access, or accesses, were across the many sky bridges connecting to the blocky concrete building. There were ways into the hospital from the ground, of course. Thats where most freight and supplies would come in from. Based on what I understood of city infrastructure, which was pretty much jack except what Id picked up via osmosis, the majority of traffic on ground levels was made up of self-driving delivery and cargo and the occasional biker gang. Foot traffic was reserved for the truly desperate, the dumb, and the vagrants. Cops wouldnt do anything for someone caught in a heap of shit on the ground, not unless there was some major incentive. It was one of the reasons why pretty young girls were told never to travel outside of a building. I figured the exception was when riding in a pair of armoured cars with eight or so heavily-armed soldier types. Our driver pulled up to a pair of reinforced double doors just by the entrance and slowed to a stop. Were here! she said in a sing-song-y voice. I snorted and pushed my door open. Shed been kind enough to park just under one of the lower bridges, so the constant drizzle didnt immediately ruin my almost-dried hair. Still, I pulled up the hood of my stealth coat, just in case. And then the inside of my hood went transparent, because of course it did. Monroe ran around the back of the car and made some arcane gestures towards the others. Soon enough there were three soldiers as well as Monroe with me, and each car had a guard as well as their driver keeping them safe. Whenever youre ready, Monroe said. I tried not to feel too self conscious as I moved towards the heavy, graffiti-covered doors. There was a plaque above them reading Patterson Research Hospital in bold stainless-steel letters. I paused by the door, spotted a paint-covered doorbell-screen to one side, then sighed. Theyre expecting us, right? I asked. Monroe nodded. Yes maam. Our PMC and the security force here are linked. I scratched at my cheek. Could I just ask that he call them up? Was that a bit too awkward? Could I have skipped this entire thing and done it over a vid-call? There was no point in beating myself up. Id just figure it out the next time. Got their number? Ge?t latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om What if you fuck your protocols? I countered. It must have been a pretty good argument, because he folded. We all kind of just stood there for a bit, rain pattering off the walls and street, turning into little rivulets that carried discarded wrappers towards already-clogged sewer openings. Well, thats that. Well be back in a bit. Your diplomatic skills are enviable. I snorted as I reached the car, tore the door open, and hopped in. I do try, I said. Dont suppose you have something to help with that? There are some items that can. Social prediction software that displays a persons mood, pulse and their physical condition to help you predict their responses. Or you could buy a very large gun. That has also proven capable of convincing most humans. The driver looked over me, then to the others who were getting back into their own rides. That was fast. Where to now, boss? That first shelter, the smaller one in the orange zone, I said as I shifted on the hard plastic seat. Couldnt they afford some cushions for these things? The last door clacked shut, the cars engine turned on with an electric whine and we were off again. I hung on to a strap anchored to the ceiling and kept an eye on the route ahead. If orange zones were supposed to be dangerous, or more dangerous at least, then there was a good chance wed be running into some xenos sooner rather than later. Who decides on the zone colours anyway? I muttered. The colours are designated based on the growth and danger predictions made by the AI companions of local Vanguard. They collate data from satellite and CCTV images, from deep ranging sensors and from the sensor suites mounted on some Vanguards equipment, then use that data to predict the threat level of each area. This is then reduced to a simple coloured system because most Vanguard dont have the patience or time to compute the actual information themselves. Ouch, I said. Sorry, our driver said. Couldnt avoid that pothole. No problem, I said. So, uh, you got a name? They call me Speedy, she said. I blinked. Because you drive fast? I asked. Nah, they caught me taking a lot of drugs, and it was either jail or joining this lot. Speedy twisted out of the way of a car parked in the wrong lane, then, when a Model Three jumped into our path from out between two trucks, she floored it and rammed the creatures head off. I hung on to my seat and started looking for a belt. *** Chapter Fifty-Two - Down Down Down Chapter Fifty-Two - Down Down Down Chapter Fifty-Two - Down Down Down The Antithesis are, rightly, the stuff of many a nightmare. They are unreasonable, alien, and have an appetite for human flesh. They are the boogiemen made real, and they could be anywhere. Small hives have been found hundreds of kilometers away from incursion sites, sometimes weeks after the last hive in the region was declared eradicated. There are Models able to destroy entire city blocks all on their own. And yet, of all of the Models, there is none more terrifying than the Model Seven. --Excerpt from a Lecture by Professor Sanderson, 2028 *** Speedy drove us to a stop before a tall, thin high rise three blocks and a bit over from the hospital. The building, like its neighbours, was tall and sleek, covered in bright stainless and mirrored windows. It wasnt one of the short-stack apartment blocks that fillled half the city, or one of those blocky factories that spat out plumes of smoke from three dozen vents on the roof. This was one of the fancy sorts of buildings where half the floors were corporate offices, and the rest homes for the kind of people that couldnt live without a view. I stopped craning my neck up and looked around the car as much as I could. No aliens, at least, none that I could see. Right, I said. Back to the grind. Speedy, youre staying here? Sure thing, boss lady, Speedy said with a two finger salute. Two per vehicle, Monroe said. The rest of us are with you. We got out, the soldiers doing the fancy thing where they panned their guns left and right and looked around for anything that wanted to eat them. I looked up again, to make sure there werent any surprises there, then took in the front of the building. The first three or so floors were all cement, no glass or windows and no decorations other than huge static ads for energy drinks, radio stations and the more popular porn livestreams. Maam, door, Monroe said as he removed a hand from the barrel of his gun to point to a door set in the side of the building. I shook off my lethargy, tried to put my game face on, realized that I didnt have or need one, and moved over to the door. The soldiers moved around it, two to a side, guns held so that they could spin around and clear the entrance the moment the door was opened. Wait just a sec, I said. They relaxed a bit. Myalis, can you help me with this one? Certainly. And Ill need a bit more help besides. Can I buy something to see through doors and such? Maybe a drone? To scout and such. There are all sorts of drones available. I would advise against going the drone swarm route though. The micromanaging needed to use one well wouldnt suit you, I dont think. Perhaps a larger, more robust stealth drone? Something with a Class I AI that can serve as a partner? An AI like you? I asked. No. I am a class XII Personal AI. I am far beyond your purchasing capability. A Class I AI would have the intelligence of a small mammal. A dog, or a cat, perhaps. The model I have in mind can be upgraded and improved over time. I had over a thousand points to burn. Sure. New Purchase: Type One GG3R Stealth Drone It made me feel like an amatuer. I was clunking along behind them, walking bold as day, and yet making less noise than any one of them because of my magic cheat-y boots. I leaned forwards a bit, my grip on the underside of my new rifles barrel tightening as I imitated the way they stood. Did it serve a purpose? We reached a stairwell. Unlike those in the last shithole building Id been stuck in, this one climbed up for more than one floor, with landings at every level. Which floor is the shelter on? I asked. Its in the second basement. I turned my gaze down to the stairs leading lower. Well okay then, I said. Monroe, do you want to split the party, or do we move as a group? Id rather we stay together, maam, the soldier said. I nodded. Then lets go see whats waiting for us down below. My new drone hopped down the steps one at a time with faint little clicks only to pause as it reached the bottom. You might want to see this. Hold, I whispered. The soldiers stopped, guns coming to bear as they looked for a threat. Can I see? Im linking the drones feed to your eye gear. The HUD over my left eye filled with a view of a stairwell, the same one we were on. I saw myself from below, looking a bit awkward behind the four soldiers. The camera panned over to the steps leading down. There was a body there. A human. He was resting at the bottom of the next flight down, back against the wall next to an open door, a gun on his lap and his brains all over the ceiling. The corridor next to him was pitch black, with a faint red light glowing at the end. I swallowed some bile. Suicide? I asked. Perhaps. I dont suppose that corridor is the one with the vault? It is. I sighed. Monroe, you have lights? The man nodded. We do. He tapped on something on his vest and a panel on its front flared up, then he did something with his rifle and a tiny encased LED popped out from under the barrel and lit the passage before him. His men did the same. Good, good. Cause Im not the superstitious sort, but I''ve got a bad feeling about all of this. I stomped--silently--past the soldiers while working through some menus with my eye gear. Finding the controls for all of my gear was pretty simple. Everything had icons, from my boots to my gun to the Hydra system on my back. I blinked at the one for my coat, then with a flick of my eyes to the side, I turned invisible. I want a coat like that, I heard one of the boys mutter behind me. I just snorted and moved on. *** Chapter Fifty-Three - Z-Word Chapter Fifty-Three - Z-Word Chapter Fifty-Three - Z-Word The survivors of the first mass Incursion, most of them Americans living in Ohio, were lauded as heroes. Their accounts were big news, their stories shared by millions. The survivors of the next incursion didnt get the same attention. Those who made it through the third barely got any notice. By the fourth, most insurance companies had lobbied to add alien invasions from the acts of god category. They came away from it traumatized, destitute, and with no one there to help them. Things havent gotten better. --Excerpt from John Delancys Three Times Unto the Breach. A Noted survivor of three of the earliest incursions. 2026 *** Id never been keen on horror games. Oh, sure, Id tried a few. The orphanage had a VR room for a few weeks at one point until someone broke in and stole the gear wed been donated. It was old even when we got it, but it worked. Some of the more tech-savvy kids had pirated all sorts of shitty little games. They also got into a heap of shit for breaking DRMs, but that was besides the point. Point was, Id played a few games, usually with Lucy nearby and clinging onto me whenever something popped out from around a corner screaming like a banshee. Wed even tried some full-dive stuff at our school, but the machine to connect to MeshSpace was an old decrepit thing, and the few horror movies wed watched all felt terribly gimmicky when seen in glorious 30 frames per second. Crawling through a rats nest of maintenance corridors, following a set of red lights that were guiding us deeper and deeper in towards a shelter that we couldnt see was way higher on the creepy scale. Monroe and his boys turned this way and that, lighting up sections of the corrior in flashes that passed as soon as they turned. You guys seem nervous, I said. I think, maam, that its because we are, Monroe returned with a whisper. I swung my crossbow around towards some movement, only to realize it was a moth being stupid next to one of the lights. I think Im going to file a complaint to whomever took out half the damned lights, I said. Ill help you with that, Monroe agreed. My drone skittered ahead to the edge of the next corridor, then tipped forwards just enough to see around the corner. A moment later a tiny box in the corner of my vision showed me yet another drab grey corridor. Only this one, at last, had a door. Shelters ahead, I murmured. Got it, Monroe said. Well fan out by the entrance. Can you negotiate? I might not have to, I said as I frowned. The vault door was open. It was one of those real vaults, with a door that was a foot thick chunk of steel with enough hydraulic doodads to let it move in and out of its place. Probably not enough to stop one of the bigger xenos, but more than enough for any of those Id encountered so far. It wouldnt stop anything if left open though. Points Reduced to... 936! The pills came in a little wrapper thing, just like bubble gum only with off-green tablets instead of something chewable. I felt like every teen in a classroom who had gum as I popped a tab for each of the soldiers, then took one myself. Those are good for twelve to fourteen hours. Taking more than one tablet in that period is unadvised. The people in there? I asked. Myalis actually took a moment to reply. They would need to be verified. If the Model Sevens roots have reached their brains, then its too late. Some people take longer to be taken over than others. There is a medical utility you could use to perform the scans yourself, but I would advise you instead modify your drone to be able to do the scans itself. This function would cost you fifty points. Do it, I said. Being stuck in a body that was no longer under your control... that was Lucys nightmare, and it was one that I could sympathize with. New Purchase: Short Range Drone-Operated Medical Scanner Points Reduced to... 886 The box that appeared was no bigger than a pack of cigarettes. I had hardly picked it up before my drone reappeared by my side, turned around, and opened up its back to expose a bunch of empty slots. The scanner was a plastic cartridge that was surprisingly heavy for its size. It fit into one of the slots as if it was meant to go there. Dumbass froze for a moment, then shivered. Ill take that as a sign its ready, I said. Okay. lets go play nurse with some zombies. I hope we wont be entering CQC with them, maam, Monroe said. I shook my head. Nah. Dumbass here can now tell us which zombie is... a zombie and which is still a person. Were saving those we can. Its why we came. Uh. Yes maam. We entered the room to be greeted by a few heads soundlessly jerking our way. It eclipsed the poorly lit corridors on the creepy scale. Dumbass, start with the nearest, I said. Some of the zombies started to climb to their feet. And you guys stay down, I warned. If they are that mobile, its too late for them. One of them made it to their feet and lurched in our direction, movements jerky at first but smoothing out a few steps later. Their jaw opened wide, too wide, revealing a mouth full of white worms, pushing up from the gums between too-human teeth, swaying like grass in a breeze. I closed my eyes. Sometimes I hated how callous I was. Other times it was the only thing keeping me sane. Whisper came up. A faint sound, like someone exhaling, burst out from the crossbow-rifle. One of the zombies collapsed to the ground. Then it exploded, sending bits of human and white vine-like tendrils all over the room. The worst part, after I ducked under a bit of office worker, was the silence from the explosion. Then the air filled with eau de dead guy and I reconsidered what the worst part was. Oh fuck, Im going to be sick, I muttered. And then I was. Chapter Fifty-Four - Setting to Boil Chapter Fifty-Four - Setting to Boil Chapter Fifty-Four - Setting to Boil One. Thats how many Antithesis bodies need to be left forgotten in order to restart an incursion. Though I suppose calling it an incursion isnt right. Still, the point remains. One body left in some closet with enough mass still stuck to it, and you have all the ingredients for a second wave of aliens. You dont want your country to pull another Serov, Russia, or a Santa-Cruz de Sierra. So when you go out there, bagging bodies for disposal, you make sure that there isnt so much as a limp alien dick left out there. --Major Hunt to Clenze cleanup team. March 2054 *** The soldiers didnt seem to react too much to my blowing someone up and splattering us all with gooped human. I dont know if that was up to their training, if they were just tough as fuck, or if they were reacting but their helmetted heads just hid it from view. In the end it didnt matter. I set Whisper next to the wall by the entrance and had Dumbass scout one of the bathrooms to make sure it was zombie free. After cleaning off my face, I returned to find two of the soldiers dragging some very dead bodies off to one side. They riddled them with holes while I was gone and I hadnt heard more than a few pops. Are you feeling better? I nodded. Yeah, Im fine, I lied. Hey, can I have one of those juice boxes? Need to clear my mouth. New Purchase: Nutri-Pack Points Reduced to... 890 I stuck the little straw in the little straw hole and tried not to notice the increase in points as I stepped back into the shelter proper. We have them all lined up, maam, Monroe said. True to his word, the people from the shelter were all placed in more or less neat rows across the floor. Some of them were rolling out of position, or were twitching so hard that they were shifting up and down the rows, but it didnt matter. Just short of sixty people, all of them alive, but how many of them were still human? Myalis, want to walk me through this? I asked before stuffing the straw in my mouth. Id never really cared much for alcohol before, but I was considering it now. Your drone can scan each individual and see whether or not its too late for them. If it is, I would suggest immediate destruction of their brain matter, followed by liquefaction of their body. Its a little morbid, but theyre already dead. Theres no point in allowing them to become enemies. Those who are still salvageable can be saved using tools from your Medical Utilities catalogue. The price will vary based on severity. Right, I said. Monroe, Dumbass will show you those that can be saved. The rest. I swallowed. Go for the brain. Well take care of the bodies later. I left the soldiers to their grisly work, picked up my Whisper, and stomped out of the shelter. Deploying. I felt my coat shift a bit, then my back-mounted guns poked through the magnetically attached flap over my shoulders and began to scan my surroundings. Maam? I jumped about six feet in the air and spun around to face a Monroe who had his arms up in surrender. Were done, maam. I sighed. Cant you be a bit noisier? I asked. Being quiet tends to keep you alive in places like this, he said. Until I shoot you for scaring me shitless, I muttered as I returned to the shelter. Within was a scene of methodological slaughter. Corpses, their heads filled with precise holes, were lined up where moving bodies had been before. The floor was one big pool of mixing blood and swimming white shapes that filled the air with a coppery tang. The remaining members of Monroes squad were moving about it all as if it was nothing. I swallowed past another surge of bile, pulled out the last of my juice box and drank the rest. The sweet taste did fuck all to make the scene better, but it was distracting. Those seven are the only ones, Monroe said as he pointed off to the side. There were, as he said, seven people in a row off to one side, all of them writhing and moving under the glare of the neon lights. Can one of your guys help me? The rest of you should probably check on the door. Yes maam, Monroe said. He called out a few orders and was soon joined by two of his guys. They moved off to the door while I moved to the not-yet-zombie people. Okay. Okay. We can save them, I said. Myalis. Please tell me theres an easy way to save them? Easy? No. But they can be saved if you act quickly. It will be costly though. Fuck cost, I said. Good! The first step will be stopping the spread of the Model Sevens roots within their bodies. Then a Neuro-Regenerative to repair any damage to their brains. Following this with a Nano-Regenerative Suite should suffice. They are likely to have difficulties moving for some time, but the effects will wear off eventually. I nodded and took in the seven before me. Two of them were kids. One an older woman, another a man that was so fat he was past overweight and nearing the obscene. Just normal people. People just like the dead behind me. Lets get to work then, I said. New Purchase: Full Body Purge x7 Points Reduced to... 853 The boxes that appeared each held a mask that had a sort of inhaler fixed onto it, one with a big red button at the top. I tossed a few to the soldier that had stayed to help me, then got to my knees next to the nearest not-a-zombie. There was something boiling in my chest. A sort of loathing for everything the Antithesis had done. It soothed over some of the disgust I felt. Chapter Fifty-Five - Low Expectations Chapter Fifty-Five - Low Expectations Chapter Fifty-Five - Low Expectations Dont fuck with Samurai. Its pretty much the most important memo sent out to corporate drones. And yet, every year, there''s a smooth brained idiot that shoves their own foot so deep into their mouth that they tickle their brain stem. The problem is that so many Samurai work hard to cultivate a certain image. Theyre nice, or silly, or fun. They do charity streams, volunteer for things, and donate money in their own name to help their community. Idiots will think that theyre soft-hearted. But as soft as the tiger may be, it still has teeth and claws, and if you fuck with its children, it will mess you up. So a mistake happens. Some office drone gets their remains spread across three time zones, and then the entire corporation needs to backpedal.Rread latest chapters at novelhall.com The next week, like clockwork, a new memo goes around. Dont fuck with Samurai. --Excerpt from a corporate training video, 2041 *** I wasnt fond of those weird platitudes, the half-true words people used to make something awful sound normal. They had plenty of euphemisms for the kittens. Differently abled under privileged children with no solid parental figures, was an entire mouthful, but its what we heard whenever someone came along who was too pussy to call us all crippled orphans. I hated that kind of crap. It was fake and it always sounded so damned condescending. Its why I knelt before the two kids in the group of seven, the only seven in the entire shelter who had survived and I did my best to meet their eyes. You came down here with anyone? I asked. They glanced over to the bodies. The soldier Monroe had left with me was covering each one with a blanket he pulled from the emergency supplies. He didnt have to, but I appreciated the gesture. Mom, the girl of the pair said. She came with us. I nodded, worked my jaw a little, then bit the bullet. Shes dead. The girl grabbed onto the boy. They had to be nine-ten years old. Smart enough to understand. Their eyes filled with tears. You couldnt save her? she asked. You, you saved us. I thought you were an angel and... She clutched at her chest, pulling on a necklace. Theres no such thing, kid, I said. And Im just a bitch who didnt get here fast enough. But youre alive. So is your brother. Id like to keep it that way. I got to my feet and looked at the other survivors. The old woman looked like she could chew nails, the fat guy was teary-eyed, but wasnt meeting my gaze. The others looked a little dazed, but they were healthy enough. Were moving in three minutes, I said. With that, I moved off towards the shelters entrance. I snorted, the bit of humour unexpected. Right, I said. Monroe, Ill be taking the rear for a bit. Dumbass, keep scouting ahead. I bought a Resonator grenade while the soldiers and civvies moved past, then started eyeing the sensor... thing on top of it. There were two settings, one had a small icon of a broken line, the other an open eye. In the middle was a sort of lens. The primary setting is a laser. Once broken the explosive detonates. The second is a motion detector. It gives you twenty seconds after activation to remove yourself from the area. I flicked on the first open, found the big on button behind it, and pressed it. A red light flashed out of the grenade, forming a line between me and the floor. One that immediately broke the moment I moved. I flung the Resonator away as it started wailing. I would say Im impressed, but its very much the opposite. Shut up, I grumbled. All of my companions were looking over to me, so I stood taller and hoped that they couldnt see the colour of my face in the poor lighting. Just covering our rear, I said. Keep moving. They kept moving, some of them pressing hands over their ears to block out the racket from the grenade. I jogged up to the nearest soldier while muttering to Myalis. By the time I caught up I had a handful of resonators to give him. Place these on the ground behind us, laser bit pointing away. Also, activate it after you place it. Not before. The soldier cradled the grenades like a live baby. Um. Yes maam, he said as he passed his rifle to his partner. I moved back to the front of the group while unslinging Whisper from my back. We should be safe from behind, I said. Thank you, he said. Good idea with the lure back there. Yeah. Thanks. This is just humiliating. I hope I can expunge all evidence of this from any record or the other AI will mock me for eons. Our path continued unmolested by any aliens until we reached the stairwell. At some point, the lights had gone out. Worse, the body wed left untouched by the door was long gone. I saw Monroe reaching up to touch the side of his helmet. He nodded, and I heard muffled speech coming through before he turned my way. The cars are meeting a lot more resistance now. I think theyve been marked. Nodding, I gestured out ahead. Then well get to them in a hurry. I shook off the bad feeling roiling in my stomach. How many shelters had stories just like this one? We werent even supposed to come here until I insisted. And the orange zone would only grow bigger as time moved on. As I stepped into the stairwell and began looking for trouble, a small part of me was hoping that I wasnt the only idiot out there doing her best to keep folk alive. Chapter Fifty-Six - Leaving a Gift Behind Chapter Fifty-Six - Leaving a Gift Behind Chapter Fifty-Six - Leaving a Gift Behind There was a time where the global market was, if not stable, then at least predictable. Prices rose and fell based on tangible things. Governments across the world had good reason to make sure that things stayed nice and even and that spikes, either huge growth or large drops, didnt occur too often. And then aliens started invading random cities, governments broke up, massive mega corporations only dreamed up in our worst nightmares rose up, and there were suddenly gods among men walking about. To say that the economy now is a wild, fluctuating thing would be a massive understatement. --Arthur Newton, Economist, 2045 *** We were halfway up the first set of stairs when I heard the familiar keening of a Resonator going off from behind us. I paused on the next step up and tried to listen as best I could. I wanted to hope it was just a rat, but my luck was never that good. When the grenade stopped suddenly, as if someone had pulled the power, I knew things were going to get interesting. Faster, I said. No one saw fit to complain. By the time we had reached the first floor, I heard two more resonators going off below us. Maam, the soldier at the very back said. Theres only the ones on the stairs left. I nodded and refocused on the path ahead. Myalis. I need something that will make the route behind us unpassable. Got anything like that? I have a few things that could collapse the building, but I think youre looking for a more... temporary solution. Theres the Mark I Heavy Smoke grenade. To blind them? I asked. That could work. It acts more like an aerosolized acid that is heavy enough that it tends to stay more or less in one place in the air. And before you ask, no, this isnt the sort of acid that will melt anything following you. It will ruin their lungs if they have them, and will injure most Models quite substantially. Good enough, I said. Give me a pair. New Purchase: Heavy Gas grenade Mark I, two units Points Reduced to... 453 I held my hands up just long enough to catch a pair of surprisingly heavy canisters. They looked like energy drink cans that mated with an egg timer. I shoved both in my jackets pockets and ran up the last few steps. Monroe, can you keep everyone here safe? Im going to give the monsters below a parting gift. What the shit? I muttered. Monroe pushed past, his voice coming out of his helmet with muffled orders. The soldiers that were with us were quick to form up by the cars and set their guns to take aim at anything coming our way. I turned to the civvies and pulled them closer to the middle. Down! Down on your knees. Quick. We dont need you getting smacked by a stray round, I said. Once I made sure the door was shut behind me, I turned around fully and tried to take in more than just what was happening right around us. There were aliens, a whole load of them poking out from around the nearest intersections and sometimes sprinting all out towards our position. Not too many at a time, but enough that the bodies were piling up. The main thrust of the incursion is coming closer. These are the advanced scouts. Within the hour, this street will be like the one below the building where we first met. That meant that soon wed be drowning in aliens. We need to get out of here, I said. Monroe turned my way. We dont have room for everyone, he said. It was the lack of emotion in the statement that made it so damned chilling. And he was right. There werent enough seats in the cars. Even if people were sitting in each other''s laps and we tossed everything out. I worked my jaw as I tried to think of something. I could maybe buy a car? I doubted it. A trailer? Then I saw all the trucks just... parked in the road, some of them still idling in place. A few were old enough that they still had cabins for drivers. Myalis, you got that cyberwarfare shit running? Of course. Do you have a no-doubt brilliant idea? Check the trucks around here. Can you see what theyre loaded with? We need one thats easy to empty and that we can use as transport. That... is actually not a dumb idea. Checking. And done. The red vehicle to your left is loaded with two tones of one-ply brand recycled toilet paper. It should be easy enough to unload. I eyed the rather old-looking red truck, one of those models from way back in 2030 when trucks still had drivers. Thatll do, I said. It looked sturdy enough, but what mattered was that it could move. Monroe. Were doing a bit of grand theft truck. Ill need a couple of your guys to move it. He looked at me, then at the truck I was pointing to. Were not trained to drive a truck like that, he said. I am! Speedy said. One of you take over the turrets. Ill go with the kid. She got a thumbs up and, not wasting one more minute, started towards the truck. I had to jog to catch up. This is a bit of a crazy plan, I said. I couldnt see Speedys face, but I knew she was grinning. Thats probably why I like it. Plus Ive always wanted to drive one of these. The odds we were going to make it out seemed simply spectacular. *** Chapter Fifty-Seven - Collateral Damage Chapter Fifty-Seven - Collateral Damage Chapter Fifty-Seven - Collateral DamageT/his chapter is updated by Collateral Damage is my middle name! --Tracy Collateral Damage Weiss, Tier 3 Samurai, defending herself in court after excessive property damages caused during the Lancashire Incursion *** The truck might have been a bit of a clunker, but it was in good enough shape. I could spot patches of paint over rusted bits and could tell that a few of the exterior parts had been replaced. Growing up as I had, it was easy to tell when something was old but well-maintained. Myalis had picked out something that wasnt terrible. I shouldered Whisper and pulled out ahead of Speedy. The womans only weapon was a handgun that she was holding out ahead of her. I had to keep her safe until we could get moving. We came around the front of the truck and stopped. There were Model Threes rushing around, an entire pack of them, their clawed feet clicking across the pavement. Speedy was quick to snap a shot at the nearest. Not to be outdone, I fired at the next in the line and watched as the bolt Id fired split apart and crashed into the Model Three Id aimed at. Seeing the alien get shredded was satisfying, but there were a lot more of them behind it. Fire! I called out. My Lancejets started spitting out thin rows of missiles that pelted the nearest aliens. I joined in, firing until my Whisper clicked empty. By the time that happened I was out of xenos to target. A look towards the far end of the street showed a couple of them coming around the corner. Not just Models Threes. I spotted a few of those worms and some Model Fours in the lot too. The tide was rolling over towards our position. Get in the truck, I said. Speedy nodded, a spent magazine falling behind her as she rushed to the drivers side and hopped up to the door. Its locked! Myalis? I asked as I slotted the concussion bolts back into Whisper. Unlocking the truck now. And Im deactivating all of its safety systems for good measure. Speedy was in the truck a moment later, its engine revving to life. The window rolled down. Where to? Get closer to the others, I said. Empty the back and load the civilians in. Yes maam! The truck backed up a bit, then turned to head closer to the others. That was one thing done. It only left a whole bunch of aliens to deal with. Myalis, how are we on ammo? I asked as I moved away from the others. I crossed under a spot where there were no bridges above and let the rain splatter across my hood. You could use a few more magazines for your shoulder mounted weapons. Your handguns are fine except for one partially used magazine in your Trench Maker. You are not carrying any additional ammunition for your Whisper. Damn near every window in the street exploded, raining glass down in sheets. Then the air returned with a great gasp and a second wave of heat, far hotter than the first but also not as heavy, rushed out behind me. I coughed a few times and stumbled away from the truck. When I turned around and looked over the street it was to find it covered in foot-tall flames. Bits of aliens burning up all over. A few of the Model Sixes at the back had survived the initial burst and were wiggling around on fire. The bit of rain coming down into the smoke barely did anything to stop the fires. I looked over to the others to make sure they were safe, and was happy to see that theyd been more spooked than anything. Most of the glass had missed them, and while the stack of toilet paper they had been throwing out of the truck was on fire, they all seemed okay. I was the only idiot that had been standing in the blast radius when my little bomb lit up. Trying to speak had me coughing more than anything. Water, I croaked. A NutriPack appeared in my hand and I slung Whisper over my shoulder so that I could poke it with a straw and drink. Once I was done and the pack was left behind, I coughed a few more times to clear my throat. That was dangerous, I said. Fuel-air explosions usually are. Yes. I jogged over to the others. We need to get going, I said. They might have heard that. I dont doubt it, maam, Monroe said. His soldiers were helping the old lady into the back of the truck. Theyd kept some of the paper rolls inside as padding on the floors and walls. Probably a good idea. When the last of them were in, the soldiers rammed the door shut and rushed over to their cars. One ahead, one behind, Monroe called out. Maam, if youd come with me. I nodded and moved with him over to Speedys now-vacant car. Monroe jumped into the drivers seat and I hopped on the other side. A moment before I closed the door, Dumbass jumped in and tried to poke holes into my thigh with its little legs. Almost forgot you, I said as I placed the drone on the floor. The sergeant floored it and we shot ahead of Speedys truck just as she started to take off. Wheres our next objective, maam? he asked. I raised a finger in a one moment gesture. Myalis. Can you put the next shelter on his GPS? Certainly. Thats still in the orange zone, Monroe said. Thats a thousand people. Or maybe a thousand zombies. Either way, its something we need to take care of. He nodded slowly. Well need to steal more trucks, he said. Im sure there are a few people who can drive in that shelter. They ought to be thankful enough, I figure. *** Chapter Fifty-Eight - Hot Stuff Chapter Fifty-Eight - Hot Stuff Chapter Fifty-Eight - Hot Stuff You want the best? Theres nothing humanity can make that the Protectors cant make, but better. Cars? Theyve got, but they fly. Books? They have electronic books which are written on the spot by an AI. You want renewable energy? Spaceflight? Secure electronics? Its humbling. And its an opportunity. Im just happy that Ill get to see some real life catgirls before I die. -- Melon Usk, 2028 *** Monroes driving was nothing like Speedys. For one thing, he didnt wait until the last second to move out of the way of every obstacle in our path, for another, he wasnt driving with the pedal stuck to the floor. Myalis, can you tell me anything about this next shelter? I asked. Certainly. There are public records available for this one. It was created by the Blue Shade and Tennison Foundation for Canada. The main shelter was funded by a Samurai, though it doesnt seem to have any non-human components in its construction. It is technically a municipal shelter, though the foundation oversees supplying it. I nodded. Cool, what about its location and such? Its built over two floors, one on ground level, the other beneath. There is a building above it, a tenement house also run by the foundation. The shelter has a standard capacity of one thousand, but can hold twice that many for a short duration. With standing room, it can hold four thousand average humans for no more than six hours. Six hours? I asked. Monroe glanced my way. To him the conversation had to sound entirely disjointed. The shelter has limited supplies of breathable air and its recycling system can only do so much before the carbon dioxide levels in the shelter begin to reach dangerous levels. Some people would die from what is essentially asphyxiation. After a sufficient number have died, the system would most likely catch up. Well... thats pretty fucking nightmarish, I said. Better than turning into a zombie though. The main entrance is the least fortified part of the shelter. It opens into a killbox with fixed gun emplacements designed to hold out against a decent number of antithesis of lower ranks. There are other passive systems in place, such as floor-to-ceiling bars that prevent large models from entering the shelter. I nodded. Got it. That sounded simple enough. If the shelter was meant to be used properly, then it probably had an easy way to exit too. Access from the street to the shelter would probably be easy too. Maam? Monroe asked. How many of your guys would you need to keep the truck and the two cars safe while also bringing a few other vans closer? More men than I have, he said. I chewed on my lower lip. How are you in terms of weaponry? We only have what were equipped with and the roof guns. SOP when going with a Samurai is to leave all extra non-mission-critical equipment behind. Ammunition-wise... Squad, ammo check. I waited as the soldiers in the back seat and presumably in the other car checked over their gear. Were down to about one extra magazine each, not counting what weve got loaded. Certainly. Perhaps waiting until youve stopped would be best. Uh, yeah. I turned to the guys in the back. You guys ever play with explosive plasma guns before? I asked. They shook their heads. Then its your lucky day. The car shifted over to one side and slowed down before it turned into the opposite lane and came to a stop. The truck behind us squealed as it braked and the other car pulled out around it to park itself behind some cover provided by two normal cars that had smashed together. Monroe didnt have to tell me that wed arrived. I jumped out of the car and took in the area. We were in an area with two rows of tenement buildings. Porches sprouted out of the walls and grew to the top of the thirty-odd floors of the buildings. The area was so shit that the billboards were unanimated. There was even a ground-level parking garage for ground-bound cars across the street. Spotting the shelter was easy. There were big signs above the entrance extolling the virtues of the corps that had shelled out for it. They were missing most of their letters, but the missing paint left it legible enough. No aliens around. Not yet. Wed only moved a few kilometers from the last shelter, and at the speed Model Threes moved... I guesstimated five minutes. Myalis, the guns, I said. New Purchase: Mark I Shooting Star. Nine Units Points Reduced to... 1013 A neat three-by-three stack appeared by my feet. The boxes were shorter than I thought. Popping the topmost open revealed a boxy gun with a short stock, a square frame around its barrel filled with what looked like liquid cooling pipes, and a grip near the front. The top had a big square holographic scope on it. I picked it up and spun it around to point at a car some hundred meters away. There was a safety right next to the handle that I flicked off. The trigger was a bit stiff, but the moment I squeezed it the gun barked three times. A little counter next to the scope dipped down three times. A trio of explosions kicked up dust around the car Id aimed at. When it cleared, there was a fist-sized hole in its side. One out of three. That gun barely has any recoil and you have a full targeting suite. Your lack of aim is impressive. I turned to Monroe and kept my face stoic. Careful, they have no recoil, so dont compensate for it. Yes maam! he said. I cant decide whether to be disappointed or impressed. Always impressed Myalis, I said as I finally allowed a grin to grace my features. Now lets go convince a thousand or so people that I have their best interests at heart. Joy. *** Chapter Fifty-Nine - Looking Like a Big Damn Hero Chapter Fifty-Nine - Looking Like a Big Damn Hero Chapter Fifty-Nine - Looking Like a Big Damn Hero There are Samurai who chose not to fight. Its crazy. Theyre the protectors of humanity. How else are you going to get your face on cereal boxes and your logo on panties unless youre out there kicking alien ass? But no. There are these assholes who have the powers of gods who just want to chill out in some Nation of Florida beach house, or who want to pretend to be normal people as if were not depending on them! --Internet commentator, July 2058 *** Unlike the last shelter, this one was obviously built to be accessed by as many people as possible in as short a time as possible. The entrance was behind a pair of large double doors that lead into a sort of concourse. It reminded me a bit of the entrance into a subway, only without any of the stairs and a lot more trash heaped against the corners. The door itself looked like something out of a movie. Huge, with rivet heads the size of my fist set in a square frame split down the middle. I guessed that they were meant to slide open. There was a panel off to one side. I figured that was how the door was meant to be opened, but I didnt want to try that yet. Think you can knock for me? I asked. Im literally inside your head. Any knocking I do would be quite interesting for your cranium. I rolled my eyes. I mean, theres got to be a way to ping the people inside to tell them to open up, right? I looked around, but other than some tipped over trash cans and waist-high barriers casting long shadows, there wasnt anything alien around. Even the Antithesis had better things to do than hang around in an empty area that glowed with flat neon light. I can. For the record, what you are doing might not go over well with all of the people in the shelter. Why the hell not? I asked. Some humans have been noted to prefer more certain odds over those that they cant calculate, even if those odds might be worse. The chances of them surviving in the long term if they remain in the shelter are low at best. But coming out of there and travelling out of the area of the incursion has a higher initial risk of being fatal. Afterwards, once theyve reached safety, that risk drops to next to nothing. That... made an uncomfortable amount of sense. If it were me in there with the kittens, would I leave? The outside probably felt like some sort of nightmare to them. Got a solution to that? The issue is mostly psychological. There are ways to address it. Overriding people''s fear is probably the easiest. Unfortunately, that would require a lot of... for a lack of better terms, presence. If you had an army at your back, they would listen. Or if you had overwhelming technology, like Deus Ex at your beck and call, then they would be assured that you can take care of them despite the increased danger. I scratched at the side of my nose. That... kind of meshed with some of my own experiences. Getting the kittens to do anything was impossible for some people. They could sense when some of the volunteers were pushovers. And yet theyd snap to it if Lucy asked or if I threatened them with an ass kicking. There were some others who got the brats to behave. One of the more common human caretakers was an ex-nun of some sort. The woman had a tongue that would make a drill sergeant look like a pansy. I didnt have the time or the tongue to scare a thousand-odd people into compliance. I did have the ability to buy shit though. Myalis. Is there a disguise catalogue? One where you can buy stuff thats fake for less than it would cost to buy the read deal? There is. I dont think it has ever been used before. Most Vanguard are content to wait to buy a real version of whatever they need. Right, we need things for the Dumbasses. Might I suggest giving the gun you currently have to one of your drones? The mounting for it is fairly cheap. Yeah, sure, I said. New Purchase: Decoy Drone-Mounted Rail Cannons. Two Units. Points Reduced to... 653 New Purchase: Stealth Drone Universal Gun Mount Points Reduced to... 603 Two large chunky... gun things appeared. Dumbasses one and two skittered under them, then stood up. They still only reached up to my knees, but now they had glowy barrel things mounted on their backs. The last unit was more like a saddle with a couple of arms on it. They looked like the drones normal legs, but a bit more spindly. Dumbass, the first of its name, came up to my side and rubbed itself against my leg until I dipped down and placed the plasma rifle atop it. Little arms grabbed the gun and then clicked in place around it. Dumbass shifted around a bit, testing the new weight, then it circled around me a few times while pointing the gun every which way. Yep. Super intimidating, I said. It can probably still aim better than you. Ouch, I deadpanned before grabbing onto the antimatter cannon. The fake antimatter cannon. Why is this thing hovering? I asked. The original, non-decoy model weighs in excess of fifty metric tones. Dimensional shunting is required to house parts of it. Uh huh, I said. I wouldnt start to pretend that I knew how that worked. So, lets get those doors open and greet all the nice people stuck in there. Do you want me to knock first? I can send a message to their gear to expect your arrival. What will you send? I asked suspiciously. She had fooled me twice already. WARNING Shelter door opening on command of Vanguard ''Stray Cat.'' Prepare for an orderly exit and evacuation to the nearest safe zone. Please remain calm. All non-essentials should be left behind. Do not open fire on the Samurai or you will face obvious and lethal consequences. I read the box filling my vision, then nodded. That works. Sending. Sent! And now opening! The doors shifted just an inch with a noise that sounded like one of those recordings of the last glaciers cracking. Even with just an inch open I caught a whiff of sweat and the unforgettable smell of too many bodies in one space. Time to put on a show, I said. *** Chapter Sixty - A Unique Combat Doctrine Chapter Sixty - A Unique Combat Doctrine Chapter Sixty - A Unique Combat Doctrine Samurai have a wide array of fighting styles and doctrines. Ranging from long-distance destruction of targets, to close-up melee fighting. The styles are as varied as the Samurai themselves, and their little AI partners seem to only encourage this diversity. Its exceptionally rare that two top-tier Samurai will have combat abilities that are even remotely similar. And that makes them a nightmare to fight. You can train people to take down one Samurai, but only that one. The next might be using gravity weapons instead of drone armies, or perhaps theyve focused on biological weaponry, or they fight in close-quarters while also using alien predictive software to avoid being shot. Its one of the many, many reasons why trying to use the army to subdue a rogue Samurai is a terrible idea. --Major Huygens, in a brief before Operation Feudal, May 2027 *** The doors opened with a squeal of metal grinding against metal. I could only imagine what it sounded like to those caught within the shelter. To my surprise, I didnt find a sea of terrified people waiting for me, but instead a large empty room. It was a dozen meters long and wide, with cement walls all around that had shoulder-height windows cut into them. There were openings for people too, of course, and thats where I saw the first of the survivors. They looked... grumpy. The first few to come out from hiding were bigger men in rough-cloth uniforms. Some had old rifles, others large wrenches. They looked at me as if I was a two-bit hooker, then thought better of it on seeing the gun held casually by my side and the drones moving about around me. You Stray Cat? One of them asked. Yup, I said. We cant evacuate everyone here at once, not yet. Their grumpiness moved up a notch. Ill need truck drivers and whomever has a gun and knows how to use it, as well as some folks with good arms. What? The man I chose to name grumpiest asked. We dont have enough transports for everyone here, I said. So were stealing some. Whatcha stealing? Trucks, I explained. Were stealing a whole fuckload of trucks. I need help emptying them out so that we can carry people out of here. We have maybe ten minutes before the worst of the waves hit this area. One of them, slimmer and lankier, pointed back into the shelter. We could stay here.Ge?t latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om No. You cant. I saw him about to protest. It was surprising how kitten-like some adult expressions were. Because I said so. Thats not a-- Wonderful! And once the Antithesis set off every mine? Ah, then Im going to have to start shooting them a lot, I guess. I see. Do try to remain inconspicuous. I grinned. That much I can do. Cloak on! My cloak turned invisible around me, and I pulled it closed over my chest so that I became little more than a pair of boots and hands floating in the air with a very large crossbow. Screaming the command phrase to turn invisible is so counter-productive that I dont know where to begin chastising you for it. Oh, shush, I said. Its not like anyones around to hear it. I began to weave between cars at a decent jog. Not too fast that I was out of breath, but a good clip nonetheless. What kind of bombs should we be using for this? No more thermobarics by the way. Id like to keep whats left of my face untoasted. You have some area-denial options, but Im afraid that if you use too many, the smarter Antithesis will merely circumvent the entire street. It might be best to use simpler, but still destructive. A combination of Hyper-Adhesive Foam and a Resonator might be best. How do you figure that? I asked. The foam spreads out over a large area around its point of detonation, and tends to be ignored by most of the less intelligent models until they find themselves stuck in it. With enough time and effort they can remove themselves. The Resonator would then have time to work, while being nearly impossible to destroy by passing Antithesis unless they use the bodies of their comrades to reach it. Also, the property damage would be light compared to using high-explosives. And if one of them goes undetonated, you wont be responsible for killing any of the clean-up crews after the incursion is cleared. I sighed. Thats fair, not as fun as big explosions, but okay. Reaching the next intersection over, I paused as I took in the three paths the aliens could be coming from. It was a lot of road to cover, with all sorts of stalled vehicles and crap blocking lines of sight. I wont be able to cover all of this, I realized. Then perhaps you dont need to. You have short-term use auto turret emplacements available for twenty points using your Auxiliary Weapon Utilities catalogue. At that price... Ill need to give it a gun myself and it cant reload? It can reload a simple weapon. Assuming you purchase some ammunition for it. I sighed. Of course. Did I ever tell you that sometimes your solution to everything is predictable? I could spice things up. Please dont, I said. Her idea of spicing things up probably involved me being humiliated. I surveyed the street again, this time with an eye for places where I could place small auto-turrets so that theyd mess up the optimal number of alien baddies. I didnt know how much time I had left, exactly, but I figured I could make the aliens passing through the area regret ever being born. Or hatched, or whatever. Point was, I was going to mess someones day up. And for once, it wasnt my own. Chapter Sixty-One - Trapsetter Chapter Sixty-One - Trapsetter Chapter Sixty-One - Trapsetter Do Not Remain In Your Domicile During An Incursion! Immediately follow your local municipalitys evacuation path and remove yourself from the area of immediate danger. If this path is unavailable, then use Qells Nation-Wide 34G network* to download your local free* Qell Life Saver app at any time! *All data transmitted across Qell networks is the property of Qell Telecom *The app contains in-app purchases. Qell is not responsible for any data collected by the app. *Fees apply. Prices are subject to change at any time. *The Qell 34G network is NOT being used for mind-control. --Part of Qell Telecoms Feel Good, Live Long advertisement campaign of 2029 *** I stuck to the shadows, either those cast by the bridges overhead, or the shadows next to every vehicle. Any passing alien wouldnt be able to spot me under my coat, but my gun was still visible, as were my feet and hands. Worse, I was moving. If the antithesis had eyes like humans, then theyd gravitate towards any motion. So I stuck to the shadows. Also, it made me feel cooler, which was a not-inconsiderable part of it. I stopped by a semi-trailer at a four-way intersection. Id ranged out about a block and a half from the shelter. Far enough that I could see the sniffing packs at the lead of the alien wave. For now, there were just Model Threes moving in large groups. There would be a whole lot more coming around. Myalis, door, I said as I tapped the side of the truck I was using as cover. Something in the door clunked and I reached up and pulled it open to slip in. The truck had mirrored glass on its front, making it hard to see within. That suited me just fine. Turret, Sparrow and ammo, I whispered. A few more shots added to the beautifully gorey mess across the street. Myalis, I need more ammo, I said. I crossed while reloading Whisper. If I could block the path, then maybe the Antithesis would have to pass by some other route. On the other hand, that would maybe just make them rush by some other way. The plan, then, was simple. Id just kill off as many aliens as I could and once the area was more or less clear, Id add a few dozen surprises for any of the brutes trying to pass by. It would at least slow them down. My goal wasnt to kill every last alien, it was to stall until Monroe got everyone packed up and ready to go. The alley had a pair of Model Threes and a single Model Four in it. They looked like theyd been going through the trash when Id popped their buddies and were now coming closer to investigate. Four more shots took care of them... and also a dumpster about five meters behind them. Myalis didnt comment, but I could swear I felt her disapproval as I sidestepped the giblets left of the aliens and crossed the alley. The next street over was a mess. Not only had a bunch of Model Threes and Fours already made it halfway down, some of them were working away at the doors of every building on the street. Model Sixs were thumping their way down, and a few little flocks of Model Ones were darting here and there, keeping an eye on the sky. Gunshots popped in the distance, sometimes accompanied by a flash through an apartments windows. I winced. There had to be hundreds of people that had decided to hide away in their rooms and who would soon be visited by some hungry aliens. Maybe a few could defend themselves for a bit, but as the density of aliens grew, I doubted they could keep up. Nothing I could do, at least, not without abandoning the thousand-odd people behind me. At least I could win them some time. I crouched by the edge of the alley, rain splattering down across my hood and leaving distortions in the invisible cloth as they passed. Taking in the surroundings didnt leave me with as many options as I would have wanted. The road here was a bit wider, with a crossing in the middle for pedestrians and, just under a hundred meters away, was another intersection, this one with a large cement building taking up the corner. The entrance into the subways. Thats where the aliens were coming from in twos and threes, the worm-looking Model Eights slithering up with difficulty. Fuck, I muttered. I forgot all about the undercity. Incursions tend to bury themselves, given the opportunity. A transit system is a ready-made way for them to travel across an entire city until its cleared. Im going to need something that can really fuck that entrance up, I said. Before Myalis could reply, I darted ahead and ducked under the underside of a trucks trailer. I was just about to start planning my next few moves when, with a throaty whoosh the street caught fire. *** Chapter Sixty-Two - Honour and Flames Chapter Sixty-Two - Honour and Flames Chapter Sixty-Two - Honour and Flames Samurai meet in the field all the time. Its a common enough occurrence. Sometimes its not the friendliest of events. When high-yield everything is flying about, aliens are attacking, and the area is filled with dead and dying civilians, the tensions can run fairly high. Still, there is a sort of code of honour among Samurai, and even those that belong to opposing factions will generally put the lives of civilians before any grudges. If their explosive attacks happen to accidentally overlap with the area a rival is in, well, thats just a bit of friendly ribbing. --Cynthia Eastwood, head psychologist, New Burkely U. 2051 *** Being on fire was, in a word, unfun. To be completely fair, I hadnt actually lit up. The wave of flames wasnt directed at me. I just got caught in the AOE. I wanted to scream, but the air around me was boiling and a tiny gasp was enough for me to clamp down and roll up into a ball while flames licked at my jacket. A very uncomfortable few seconds later, the flames abated and I opened my eyes only to have my organic eye spiked with pain. There was a lot of nasty smoke in the air. My nifty robotic eye was just fine. Air. I croaked. A box appeared before me. I fumbled it open, saw the facemask within, and slapped it on without a second thought. It didnt have any straps, which didnt seem to matter as its rubber lining adjusted itself to my face and stuck on fast. Taking in a deep gasp was like stepping out of a room filled with smokers for the first time in hours. It was heaven. Thanks, I said. I cant serve you if your lungs fail. Though you should consider replacing them with something more efficient. I suspect the fire was caused by a person, not an Antithesis. Some fuck-o had tried to light me up? Growling, I rolled out from under the truck, spung Whisper off my shoulder and brought it around to aim at the first thing that moved.Ge?t latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om I found myself staring down the scope of my crossbow at a nun. A nun with a backpack and two arms pointing my way. Arms with little nozzles under them. We stared at each other for a very uncomfortable few seconds as I twisted so that I was kneeling. The ground was hot to the touch and kind of painful on my legs, but my shoes had good insulation. I swore to myself that if shed wrecked my two hundred point shoes I was going to put a very big hole in her. Nun or otherwise. Hold. Thats a Vanguard. We both paused. The nun lowered her hands and I, reluctantly, lowered Whisper. What the fuck? I asked though my new mask The nun was wearing a full-face mask under her habit. It looked like a featureless womans visage, like one of those disappointed statues of Mary. Forgive me, she said. I didnt know you were there. A Samurai name? the nun asked. I wasnt given one, not yet. What? Is there a reason you cant give yourself one? I asked. Tradition? she asked more than said. It has become something of a tradition for Vanguard to name each other, with some competing to be the first to name another. Though there are no rules, and any Vanguard is free to disregard a name that is given to them. Usually the names are given in good faith. Like the name Id gotten from Longbow? That explained why he was so excited about it.I watched the nun while Myalis info-dumped. She looked to the side, her head cocked as if listening to something. Her own AI, I guessed. Right, how do you like Sister Hellfire? I asked. She turned back to me. How would you like me to finish cooking you? That doesnt sound very Christ-like, I said. Im part of a denomination that worships Samurai, she said. Were pretty okay with violence. I snorted. Does that mean you worship yourself? Thats either really weird, or really kinky. She didnt seem to appreciate that, so I raised my hands in surrender. How about, uh, something a bit more serious. Whats the name of that one city that got burnt up in the Bible? Gomorrah? she asked. There. That sounds good enough. You want me to name myself after a city of sinners? she asked incredulously. I shrugged. It sounds badass. She paused. It kind of does, doesnt it? The Resonator shut off with a screech and I saw the newly christened Gomorrah relax her shoulders at the lack of ear-piercing noise. There was still a ring, but it sounded distant. Oh, shit, I said. My traps have gone off. She turned back to me. Traps? To protect a group of civilians I was helping evacuate. Uh, want to help? Im not entirely sure how credit is divided, but theres like a thousand civilians and eight soldiers to guard them a block and a bit over. I set traps all over. I... yes, Ill come. I grinned. Cool. Just try not to fry the civilians. I had the impression she was glaring. Ill be careful with them, she said. The emphasis there suggested that shed be less careful with me. Myalis, I need something to cave that entrance in. A few Hyper Compression bombs should do it. I dont place much stock in the strength of human-made structures. Your faith in humanity is astounding, I deadpanned. Two flung bombs later and I was walking away from the area, an irate fire nun at my back. Chapter Sixty-Three - People are Stupid Chapter Sixty-Three - People are Stupid Chapter Sixty-Three - People are Stupid With the advent of corporate police forces and national and international PMCs, there has been a sharp rise in the number of people willing and able to fight crime for the right amount of money. Unsurprisingly, this had little to no impact on the organized parts of the criminal underworld. Most cities, especially the megacities, have organizations whose entire modus operandi revolve around specific crimes. Thieves, cybercriminals and spies make up part of the soft criminal world, usually working on smaller jobs or contracting themselves over to corporations in order to ruin an adversary''s quarterly profits. Thugs of all sorts have made a niche for themselves in the poorer districts where they usually begin as well-meaning groups defending their home. Dealers plague every strata of society. From those selling common meth to the homeless, to those smuggling in luxurious alien-made drugs for the CEOs of multinationals. Ge?t latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om Crime, it seems, is a constant among humanity. Especially in a world where the meaning of law is so vague and weak. --Excerpt from The Lawless by an anonymous author. 2054 *** I was expecting a few things when I returned to the shelter. I was hoping for certain things too. Arriving to find all the civilians waiting calmly inside a row of trucks ready to go, with maybe a few volunteers guarding the entire lot would have been nice. Instead I arrived to find a half-circle of scared people all staring at a spectacle that had shivers crawling down my spine. There were some men standing around, all of them armed with guns that I found all too familiar. One of them, the biggest in the entire lot, was standing before the crowd. On one side, Monroe was on his knees, hands held behind his back by some dipshit. The Samurais gone! If you want to become pawns of these corporate fucks, then thats on you. But me and mine, were making a stand. Were going to take those aliens on! I stared, dumbfounded, as some of them actually cheered him on. I dont suppose this was part of any plan? Gomorrah asked. No, no it wasnt. I told them to get ready to evacuate, not this shit. I stomped out across the street, vaguely aware that Gomorrah was sticking close behind me. The big dipshit paused mid-way through his speech as the crowds attention turned away from him and moved towards me. Dumbass! Come here, I shouted. The man looked around. You want to talk, Samurai? he demanded. Ill have you know that wh-- You, shut the fuck up, I said. Dumbass Two appeared out of the shadows of one of the nearby trucks, its holographic camo winking out as it moved. Dumbass, you see what happened? I asked. Reviewing the footage now. It seems as if a group of men, most of whom have criminal records and affiliations to a local gang, decided to take over the evacuation operation. Sargent Monroe protested. A small fight broke out and his squad was detained. I nodded, then my gaze turned towards Speedy. The womans helmet was off, and her face was a mess of blood and missing teeth. I suspect they were the sort of thugs used to jumping when told to, because they did make it quick. I noticed a few of them slipping behind the crowd, but as long as they didnt cause more trouble I had bigger problems to deal with. Gomorrah, can you organize people? Ive... done similar before, she said. Cool. Im going to get these guys back on their feet. We need to move, and soon. I moved over first to Monroe, who looked like hed been kicked in the chest a few times, then over to Speedy. I winced. Shed been beaten black and blue, her teeth kicked in and one of her eyes was squeezed shut around a swelling mess of purplish skin. Damn Speedy, I said. Hey, its you, she said. I can still drive. I snorted. Sure. Myalis? Can I afford some meds? Certainly. Your points have been climbing steadily for the last few minutes. The traps youve set seem to be effective enough. Dumbass the First skittered over. It still held onto one of my plasma rifles, making it look rather silly as it wobbled over. Hey there, I said. Can you run a scan on her? I asked. The drone bobbed and soon Myalis was giving me some suggestions that I more or less blindly accepted. Youll be right as rain, I told her as I waved Monroe over. Can you get any of your guys who are hurt here? And any civilians that need medical attention too, while youre at it? Do you mind if I delegate that, maam? he asked with a wheeze. Shit. Yeah, sure. Let Dumbass here check you out real quick. As it turned out, Monroe had a fucked up rib. His armour had taken the worst of the blows, but that didnt mean he wasnt winded. What will you do about him? Monroe asked as he gestured to the idiot that started it all. I looked over at the guy who was on the ground, kneeling with his stump cradled against his chest. I sighed. Cuff him and toss him in the back of a truck? Im sure someone will want him, stump and all. Not nice to make fun of stumpy people, Speedy said from her spot below us. She was looking a bit better already. Probably feeling better too if she had time to be snarky. Im a stumpy person too, I said with a wiggle of my super arm. Does this kind of crap happen often? Often enough, Monroe said. The aliens are only the most dangerous thing on the field. Not the only things that can kill you. I felt my good mood draining as that sank in. How many more people would I be trampling over without so much as a second thought before that number grew too big? Could I have handled things differently? Made it less likely that something like this would happen again? A not-so-distant thump had me looking down the road. It was followed by a clatter of gunfire and a faint wailing. Something had set off one of my traps, one that was a lot closer than the others. Monroe, get everyones shit together. You have two minutes. Yes maam. Speedy, well see if your claims that you can still drive hold up. You betcha. *** Chapter Sixty-Four - Tougher Means More Boom Chapter Sixty-Four - Tougher Means More Boom Chapter Sixty-Four - Tougher Means More Boom The international standard shipping container is 12.2 meters long, and 2.43 meters wide. Thats enough room to carry over a hundred people with relative comfort, assuming that they dont need too much breathing room. In a situation where that number isnt sufficient, you can begin to stack people one atop the other. With less room between each, you can push that number up to two hundred civilians per container. More than that, and you will need to add air circulation systems to the containers or risk having the people within suffer from oxygen deprivation and carbon monoxide poisoning before arriving at their final destination. This math, of human lives and resources, is the math of tyrants, despots, and the desperate. --Excerpt from A Survivors Tale 2024 *** The first trucks were packed so full that the people within would probably be bumping shoulders the entire time they moved. Those had left some minutes ago.Re?Ad lateSt chapters at novelhall.com Only The trucks being stuffed full of people now had so many being pushed into them that it was a miracle no one had been trampled yet. And still I wanted them to pack in more. Faster Monroe! I called out. As we took over more trucks, it cleared some of the road up. Sure, there were some that we just couldnt use on account of them being driverless vehicles, and the rather ordinary old cars dotting the road were left unused as well. That just meant that there were large gaps with no one in them, or no one except for a whole lot of antithesis. The first wave to come around the far end of the street looked like crap. They had wounds already and looked like theyd been rolled around in dirt before reaching us. The sight of them had set the crowd to screaming and panicking, and it was all Monroe and his boys could do to stop them from turning into little more than an unruly mob. That had been five minutes back. The first wave was wiped with a few hisses from Whisper and one gout of flames from Gomorrah. The crowd had resettled, another two trucks were filled and drove off. Then Monroe announced that the first three had arrived at the hospital, our relay point. They were met there by an entire platoon of soldiers with tanks and enough weaponry to stop a small incursion in its tracks. That was the first wave, back when the trucks only had a hundred or so people in them. Now we were trying to cram in five hundred people into three trucks, one of which was a half-trailer, and things werent fitting in right. I was leaning over the top of a car, Whispers little tripod legs digging into its roof to keep it stable. Id long given up just using concussion-tipped bolts and had switched to garrot grenades that at least turned a small section of the street into a blender after impact. It was doing a number on the ever growing waves of aliens coming at us. Gomorrah was doing her bit too, spraying entire sections of the road with liquid fire that washed up walls and over cars and turned any passing aliens into so much burning meat. The air stank of melting plastic and rubber and plants. The land-bound bastards were a problem, but a relatively small one. We had to empty trucks to make room, which gave us plenty of materials to build a barricade with. The problem was the fliers. Gomorrah nodded. Ill stay as well, she said. I felt myself grinning. Cant miss out on this many points? I asked. Not on your life, Stray Cat, she said. We can run back to that hospital of yours while making it cost the aliens for every step. I like it, I said. I was running on a whole lot of adrenaline and maybe a bit of panic, but there was also a sort of gleeful joy in seeing so many aliens being torn apart, in knowing that what I was doing right then and there was saving people in a very real sense. It was like donating a dollar to charity, but better. I was about to fire another quip out at Gomorrah when I noticed that she was staring out past our barricade. What in the name of the Father is that? she muttered. I looked out ahead and felt my joy pop like an overfull balloon. There was an alien coming around the corner, a model I hadnt seen yet. That wasnt terribly unlikely. So far we had been dealing with the same sort of bastards, Model Threes and Ones and Sixes, with the occasional Model Four showing up in all of their tentacular glory. This thing was different. It was four legged, and built like a bear if bears were in the habit of trampling cars. Its body was the same black-green as most Antithesis, but this thing was covered in a layer of fine pale-green quills that looked almost wet to the touch. Thats a Model Five. Its a model dedicated to biological warfare. Its quills are dangerous, even to a Samurai. Do not let it approach you. If you see Model Ones around it, be very careful. I raised Whisper, aimed at the middle of the monster, and fired. Something so big shouldnt have been able to move so damned quickly. One moment it was turning around the corner, the next it was rushing at us at an angle that had my first shot missing it entirely. Fuck, I said. Language, Gomorrah muttered. The Model Fives mouth opened, revealing what could only be the organic version of a firehose for a tongue. Faint pinkish gas started to waft out of it. The wind was at our backs, for now, but I didnt want to find out what would happen if and when that reached us. Thats about when it stepped into the thirty-meter range of Gomorrahs flamethrowers and she lit it up. Just to be damned sure, I fired off a trio of garrot grenade-tipped bolts into the monster''s chest and watched as they tore it apart in a spray of flaming meaty giblets. It might be tougher than average, Gomorrah said. But were still two Samurai. Chapter Sixty-Five - A Change in Tactics Chapter Sixty-Five - A Change in Tactics Chapter Sixty-Five - A Change in Tactics There are different sorts of incursions, but for the most part, the opening salvo of Antithesis forces will concentrate on overwhelming numbers. It can take up to a day before the hive has scouted enough of its environs to decide how it will specialize. In those opening hours, in that first half day, a small incursion can go from a few thousand bodies to a quarter of a million single-digit Models. The few instances of footage taken from within a hive show Antithesis fruit going from the size of a seed to its flower stage, and then turning into a fully grown Model in the space of three hours. Each fruiting vine can hold anywhere from a hundred to three thousand flowers, each one a fruit which will grow into a man-killing alien in an afternoon. The more time passes, the more biomass the hive collects, the greater the number of models it produces.Re?Ad lateSt chapters at novelhall.com Only --Excerpt from The Most Dangerous Weed, 2025 *** I slapped the side of the trucks cabin. Go! I shouted. The truck revved, a high pitched whine escaping from its electric engine a moment before its rearmost wheels spun with a crunch of gravel on asphalt and the whole thing started forwards. I ignored the tons of steel moving right past me and brought Whisper up to take a few shots at the bastards sticking their heads over our road block. Im lighting up the wall! Gomorrah called back a moment before the temporary blockade wed built up across the street turned into a flaming barrier, the few aliens scrambling up the side flopping back down on the wrong end of toasty. A glance over my shoulder showed the last truck taking the corner at a speed that would have earned it a ticket in normal circumstances. Thats it, I said. No more civilians. Nearly two thousand--or maybe a bit over that since I hadnt really been counting--all removed from an area that was about to get swamped by enough aliens to drown in. Gomorrah shifted a bit. Shed gained a pair of shoulder mounted flame throwers, similar to my own shoulder mounted guns, and her backpack had changed a bit, getting smaller and more compact. I wasnt sure when shed picked up the new gear, but I couldnt throw rocks from my glass house. I was planning on finding a nice calm spot soon to equip some new toys of my own. How are we evacuating? Gommorah asked. Uh, I said. I looked back down the road the trucks had gone down, then towards the other side where the antithesis tide had been stalled if only for a little bit. The aliens seemed to take that as an excuse to start breaking into every building along the sides of the roads. There are a few more shelters to check out, but theyre on the safer side of the hospital were using as a rendez-vous point, I said. Well then, perhaps we should reach the hospital first. If there are more soldiers there then perhaps we could use them as aids to evacuate the other shelters. I nodded along. That makes sense. We both just stood there for a bit. So? Gommorah asked at last. Yeah? How are we getting there? What. Its fake. I gestured at it dismissively. Its not real. A prop? Its a decoy meant to make people think twice. The nun was staring at me. You bought a fake gun? It worked, I said in my defence. It was a valid bit of big gun diplomacy. If I hadnt seen you summoning things, I would genuinely question whether or not youre a Samurai Saint. I shook my head. Im the farthest thing youve seen from a saint, trust me. I think Im starting to see that, she muttered. Then, with a sigh, the nun gestured in the general direction of our destination. Shall we? I was about to agree that we should when something at the end of the street caught my eye. A bit more motion that turned out to be a Model Three sprinting around the corner. It wasnt the first to make its way around the block. We had a few of the soldiers keeping an eye on strays the entire time we were loading up civilians. This one wasnt alone. More Model Threes came rushing around, a wolfpack of salivating wolf-like aliens that scrambled across the ground and pushed towards us. And then the Model Sixes, huge and tanky as all hell, came lumbering around the bend. Oh, fuck, I said. The tide had finally come around. Whisper hissed three times in quick succession as I tried to nail the Model Threes in the lead. Spinning garrote wires tore through the pack, but they just widened their passage and came around. The sound of crashing from behind had me turning to see the barricade being blown aside by a heavy Model Four, its bristling form standing amidst the flames like some sort of creature out of some preachers nightmare. Ah, double fuck. Alleyway, Gomorrah said as she pointed. We blocked that one, I said. Then well unblock it, she replied. A lick of fire burped out of the nozzles tucked under her arms. I nodded and started to back towards the alley while taking pot shots at the approaching aliens. A flick of my eye activated my shoulder-mounted guns, adding to the fun as they started to riddle the faster aliens full of holes. Gomorroah rushed to the nearest side passage, brought her arms up, and turned the tipped over cars and dumpsters into so much scrap. Her twin jets of fire went from an orangey white to a brilliant, eye-searing blue, and all the crap in her path started to melt away. I left her to it, the heat around the alley, even two dozen meters away from me, was enough to warm my back up to an uncomfortable degree. I was just considering asking Myalis for some ammo with a bit more kick when I suddenly found myself falling over. Something hot screamed through my leg, but in that moment I was far more concerned with the ground rushing up to meet my face. *** Chapter Sixty-Six - Impaled... Again Chapter Sixty-Six - Impaled... Again Chapter Sixty-Six - Impaled... Again There has never been a problem that cant be solved with enough high explosive ordnance. --BoomBox, to the Gun Nut Association of America, June 2041 *** Id been hurt before. Plenty of times, even. Losing an arm had been pretty rough, so was the whole ordeal with my eye melting in my face and my entire right side getting toasted. But that had been years ago, the day I became an orphan even. That particular pain was a forgotten one, or at least a pain so far back that the memories had dulled a bit. I knew, intellectually, that Id been hurt, but that was it. Just like I could recall a first day at a new school, or the day I met Lucy, or a bunch of other memories. Even the most vivid of them still faded. Having my face meet the ground while something hot shoved its way through my left thigh was a brand new sort of pain. Much fresher, much more... in the moment. It kind of reminded me of having a pole shoved into my gut, actually. I gave it point five gut-poles out of 5. I gasped, the stinging in my nose that was making my eyes water quickly fading from my attention as I rolled over and stared down at my leg. There was a nice bit of quill sticking into and out of it, a sharpened black spine with two points and probably all sorts of other interesting features that I couldnt make out because it was currently impaling me. Fuck, I managed to whimper. Stray Cat?! Gommorah screamed. She moved over to my side in a flurry of black robes, stared at the wound in my leg, then unfroze. The next thing I knew she was spraying a forest fires worth of napalm all across the street, creating a wall between us and the nasties. Are you okay? she asked. Fuck no, I said. Dumbass the First skittered by my side, wiggled to and fro a bit, then settled down. The quill missed the bone. Not only that, its payload failed to inject itself. Youre rather lucky. What? I asked. I touched the quill, some vague memory about putting pressure on wounds coming up to the surface. That memory could get fucked, touching the hole hurt like an entire bag full of bitches. Youre going to need to push the quill out from the entry wound. I would advise against pulling it out the other end until at least half of it is out and you can avoid touching the point. Are you fucking serious? I asked. What about the blood loss? I winced as the tumble sent a shock up my leg, but I had bigger things to worry about. Goodness, the nun swore as she stumbled back to her feet. There was a trio of Quills embedded into the back of her robes. They fell off as she turned around and faced the bastard that had attacked her. I glanced over too. A Model Five, the same one that had burst through our barricade, was stomping through the fire as if it didnt give a shit about the flames licking at its stumpy legs. Its body, covered in bristling quills, shifted as it turned towards Gomorrah. Then a pair of little tentacles wiggled out from its belly, tore out some of the spines along its side, and flung them forwards with a pair of whip cracks. Gomorrah shielded her face and hopped to the side in time to avoid one of them. The other glanced off her ribs with a dull thump. God damn you, heathen monster! she shouted before turning to incinerate the beast. Thats when an entire pack of Model Threes charged around the Model Five and lunged towards her. The nun started walking backwards, her arms dipping to lay down some fire onto the dog-like aliens aiming to take her out. The Model Five, not to be outdone, started to lumber forwards as well. I wasnt about to let it kill my nun buddy, Im sure she had many years of complaining about my heathen ways left in her. Whisper was off to the side, my shoulder-mounted guns had emptied their loads into the Model Threes already and were dipping back to reload. I wasnt at the right angle to pull out my Trench Maker or the handgun Id gotten from Cleanze. Dumbass the First was already firing into the blaze around us, presumably thinning out the herd. So I raised my new arm, pointed it to the biggest asshole in the bunch, and screamed. Rocket! My jackets arm flared out as a tiny black speck darted out of my arm and slammed into the Model Fives flank. The big beastie seemed to pause for just a second, a second long enough for me to close my eyes. The world flashed white, I felt a wave of pressure shoving me down, and then a nice smattering of pulped aliens started to rain down around me. When I blinked again, it was to find the Model Fives front legs standing up, with nobody to support them. Gomorrah had stumbled back a bit, and the Model Threes nearest the back had all been flung away. What, the nun asked. It might be tougher than average, I said. But were still two Samurai. *** Chapter Sixty-Seven - Life Story Chapter Sixty-Seven - Life Story Chapter Sixty-Seven - Life Story Most people look at the charts and graphs that mark the spread of an incursion and assume that the aliens do things by the numbers. First they send out the weaker Models to scout and gather, these are the Model Ones and Threes and Fours, with the occasional Six and Eight and Five thrown in. And only when the area is saturated with them, when theres no more resistance, do the bigger Models come out to play. Thats a fat load of bullshit. The bigger Models are either behemoths able to tango with a tank or are nightmares made flesh. Some are no bigger than a human and others can comfortably bring down skyscrapers by punching them a few times. They can show up at any time. The aliens dont have a doctrine. Dont expect them to play fair. --Major Hunt, to Prisoner Platoon 5874, 2054 *** I dont know why, between myself and Gomorrah, I was elected default leader of our group of two. She had more experience with the Samurai thing than I did, not to mention she was a nun, which meant a sort of mental image of competency of a sort. I was an orphan with a limp and a bit of an attitude problem. Gomorrah still deferred to me. We made our way into a building with a Casper Blackman Associates LLC sign above a rusty door. Dumbass was able to unlock it while Dumbass Two and Three kept an eye on the area around us. I didnt like using my new Samurai buddy as a crutch, but until my leg finished knitting itself together I was kinda stuck. Where to from here? Gomorrah asked as she looked around the lobby. It was the kind of place that was pretty standard for some front business. Lots of generic posters, a few plastic seats to one side next to a vending machine that looked near-empty. There were offices at the back that looked mostly empty, and the reception desk had a defaced older-model android sitting behind it. I doubt you brought us here on purpose, she said. Nah, I said with a shake of my head. Just wanted a spot out of the rain. Our goal is... somewhere that way. I gestured across the offices, pointing more or less towards where we were heading. I dont know what these guys do here, but they had a door. Gomorrah tilted her head to the side just a bit. Plushies. What? Plushies. Theyre a LLC that does the paperwork for a factory in New Hong Kong that makes knock-off plushie Samurai. Huh, I said. Okay. Thats nice. Lets find an elevator up a few floors. There should be some bridges across the street. We can get to the hospital from above ground level. Fewer aliens that way, she said. You say that like its a bad thing, I said. She shrugged her shoulders. Thats fair. Ive made a good deal of points. Ill try not to be greedy. To an orphanage, mostly, I said. She tensed. Im sorry, she said. I waved it off. Im used to it. The elevator dinged and I yanked my Trench Maker out before the door had even begun to open. Gomorrah shifted next to me, an arm raising to point out into... an empty lobby area. Just being careful, I said, a bit sheepish. So, uh, you have... parents and stuff? She snorted. Yeah, I have parents. Well, a parent. Sorry to hear that? I tried. She shook her head as we started moving through the abandoned lobby area and into a sort of concourse. It was pretty typical for buildings with multiple bridges across them to have stalls and shops and such in them so that people walking from one part of the city to the next could stop over to buy shit. My mom left when I was young. My dad did his best, but hes an office guy, married to the job. So he sent me to the best school he could afford. Hence the religious upbringing. Or partially religious... Im not too sure about it all, now that Im one of the Samurai that we treated like saints. Were just people with alien storefronts in our heads, I said. I would like to think that Im more than a mere storefront. I suppose so, she said. My... moms back. Not with my dad, shes just back in my life. The moment I became this. She gestured at herself. She reappeared out of nowhere and is suddenly the nicest person Ive ever met. It... it feels wrong. I eyed her from the corner of my eye. Did she want some sympathy? Or maybe It had been weighing her down for a while and I was just the first one to come along that could listen to her. Something said that Gommorah wasnt drowning in friends. Im no expert when it comes to parents, I said. But Ive seen lots of people acting nice. The act can be a good thing. Sometimes you just need to pretend to be a good person to keep people calm. But most of the time, when someone switches from being an ass to being nice, theres something fucky going on. At least, thats my experience as a shitty orphan from a shitty orphanage. We finally arrived at one of the bridges, one of those fancy ones with glass walls and a glass ceiling which was being assaulted by rain from above. The skies had actually brightened a bit, some of the cloud cover breaking apart here and there, but not right above us. I moved closer to the edge, feeling for the soreness in my leg as I moved. It was a bit annoying, pulling strangely with every stretch, but I could walk on it well enough. The roads below were cleared of people. A few Model Threes were sniffing around, probably the very front of the next wave. Had we stalled them with our little fireshow? Whats that? I looked to Gomorrah, then followed her pointing finger into the sky. At first I couldnt see anything. The bridge wasnt near the topmost floor, so all the buildings around us towered above and cut off line of sight except for straight down the street. Even that was a mess with other bridges cutting across. And then, from out between two bridges came a huge grey-black form that swooped up and under the passages. At first I thought it was a hoverbus. It was way too big to be a Model One. The snap of giant wings shot that idea down. The monster was huge, with four great wings that seemed almost fuzzy and a dog-like face at the end of a long neck. It had four eyes, eyes that were locked on us. Ah fuck, I said as it swooped towards us with Cat-sized talons extended. Chapter Sixty-Eight - Hitting the Fan Chapter Sixty-Eight - Hitting the Fan Chapter Sixty-Eight - Hitting the Fan The casualty rate for Samurai in the field is nearly two percent. That might sound low to most, but thats higher than the casualty rate of any normal job available out there. Its twenty times higher than the rate at which soldiers die on average, even in times of active war. What does that mean to normal folks though? Sure, Samurai die, and sure, they die fairly often, but to Joe Average thats nothing, right? It becomes something when you realize that the best estimate on the number of Samurai worldwide is barely in the seven digits. Each loss is a blow to humanitys chances of surviving. --Excerpt from a censored late-night interview with former statistician Patric Whelbler. *** Shit had, in my experience, an incredible ability to go from a calm standstill to hitting a fan in a miraculously small amount of time and with suddenness that was downright jarring at times. Even as the gigantic alien bird rammed into the glass-walled bridge we were standing on, my mind was still trying to work through the conversation with Gomorrah. Maybe I wasnt used to fighting enough yet to be able to afford being distracted like that. Sharp black claws punched through safety glass and tore into the sides of the bridge as if the walls were made of so much cardboard. The floor kicked out from under me, and with my one lame leg, it took everything I had not to fall onto my ass. Run! Gomorrah screamed. She put actions to words and sprinted to the far end of the bridge. I didnt have any such luck. My footing was already screwed and my balance thrown off. The huge alien face crashing through the glass stretching towards me was all it took for me to stumble backwards instead of running ahead. I tried to bring Whisper around, but by the time I did the aliens head had torn its way out of the bridge leaving a me-sized hole in its side that allowed the rain and wind from outside to pour in. My crossbow was swinging around to aim at the alien through the glass when the bridge creaked. It felt like I was in one of those ancient cartoons. The whole world paused for a long second while the metal groaned and, finally, snapped. An I-beam crashed through the floor on the side the alien had hit, and the bridge twisted. The huge bird scrambled out and onto the top of the bridge, casting a deep shadow down onto me as its weight came down on the only side holding things up. And then, just like that, the bridge gave way. I saw Gomorrah at the far end stumble to safety as everything went sideways. My shoes found purchase on the sleek floor just as it began to tilt down. Even through my ear protection I could hear the entire structure coming apart. There was just enough time for a well-deserved Fuck! as the bridge came tumbling down, and it brought me down with it. Only one of my shoulder mounted guns came back up and around. The other wiggled a bit near my back and then stopped doing even that much. The row of flechettes fired all the way over to the Model Eleven did a whole lot of nothing. I swallowed and looked around for Whisper, but the gun was nowhere in sight. One of the Dumbasses, three, I thought, was nearby, but it was a crushed mess. For a moment I imagined myself being swallowed by the huge bird, but a line of fire from the heavens cut across its path and the bird deftly swooped out of its way. Gomorrah! The nun was way above me, hanging out of the torn section left of the bridge with one of her arm cannons pointed ahead of the Model Eleven and laying out a wash of fire in its path. The damned thing was clever though, and her fire too damned slow and short ranged for it to actually stop the huge bird. It did buy me some time. I tore my Trench Maker out of its holster and started running along the length of the roof. The moment the Model Eleven spun around again I slowed to a jog and started firing at it. The impacts of the Trench Maker hitting were hard to miss as each one burst into a small ball of flames. The fact that they did nothing to slow it down was just as hard to miss. I spun my gun arm around and fired the last three shots into the glass ahead, punching fist-sized holes in it that I only made larger when I dove into the glass feet-first. The entire square of safety glass caved in, and I rode it down into the open passage below. The Model Eleven flew past the top of the bridge a moment later. How do I kill that thing? I asked as I shoved my Trench Maker back in place for it to reload. A rocket? One of your arm rockets could incapacitate or even kill it if exceptionally well-aimed, but that would be difficult. Myalis... can I afford a rocket launcher? Yes Cat, you can afford a rocket launcher. I felt a nasty, vindictive grin tugging at my features. Myalis. Give me a rocket launcher. Class I Heavy Explosive Launchers Points Reduced to... 4783 New Purchase: Single Use Simurghs Tear Anti-Aerial Rocket Launcher Points Reduce to... 4683 Myalis, being the gem she was, didnt even bother with the box. Lets see if that oversized pigeon likes explosions, shall we? *** Chapter Sixty-Nine - Nice Chapter Sixty-Nine - Nice Chapter Sixty-Nine - Nice If youre going to kill a Samurai, you had better do it quick. If youre not fast about it, then theyll come right back at you, better armed and a whole lot more pissed off. In fact, the best way to remove a Samurai as a threat, if you find yourself unable to kill them outright, is to place the things they care about in jeopardy. It is always easier to play around them than through. They are the queens on the chess board, but that doesnt mean you cant take out their pawns. --Professor Patterson, Military Historian, June 2029 *** The Model Eleven was, in a few words, one dead motherfucker. In my pre-Samurai life, all of five hours ago, I had often wished that I could visit some bodily harm to some people and occasionally to some things. Im pretty sure those were natural urges, the kind that didnt fit well in a more-or-less civilised society. But now I had a rocket launcher and every right to blow up the thing pissing me off. I walked over to the nearest window overlooking the rain-slicked street and looked around for the gigantic alien. My new eye helped by circling the beast in a small but growing red circle. Growing because the bastard was flying right towards me. I shouldered my new toy, letting the surprisingly comfortable resting pads shift onto my shoulders as I did a bit of mental math. The alien was coming at me, making a shot fairly easy. There was a glass panel before me that would undoubtedly set off the rocket in my face if I fired into it. And the alien was carrying a car. That last one had me blinking dumbly even as the Model Eleven swooped upwards with a flick of its just wings. Its claws tore themselves open through the carcass of a heavy-looking car, letting go of it just before the alien itself flew past above. I said something that would have set Lucys ears on fire as I jumped away from the window and tried to sprint away. The side of the bridge shook as half a ton of hover car rammed into and through it, sending glass and plaster and bits of wire flying all over. The lights in the bridge which had still been on flickered off at last and for a moment as everything shifted underfoot, I was afraid that this bridge would collapse too. When the emergency lights at either end of the passage came on and bathed everything in a nice ominous red it was enough for me to see the nice big hole left in the side of the bridge, a hole plugged by an unshapely wreck of a car. Holy shit, I said. Models above the single digits tend to be either particularly dangerous, or hyper-specialized towards completing a single task exceptionally well. I would usually advise against facing one until you were better prepared, but I think you might be able to succeed here, though at fairly great risk. I swallowed past my nerves and started to look around to see if I could spot the bastard through one of the windows. Yeah, I said. I didnt expect the car. I can connect to her AI and inform him that youre still alive. Him? I asked. It chose to identify as masculine based on Gomorrahs profile. I blinked, noted that AIs could do as they pleased, and shoved off my resting place. Moving now that things werent exploding, falling, or both, was surprisingly hard. It was like the morning after a day at the gym, or a night spent stretching with Lucy. Everything was sore and some bits just plain hurt. Im going to need some more healing, I said as I started to make my way towards the door with all the vim and vigor of someone sixty years my senior. I think at this point it would perhaps be wise to invest in some internal augmentations. There are ways to improve your musculature and to harden your skeleton. Not to mention replacing your organs with far superior versions. Going to replace my skull next? I asked. Your head is the only part of you that doesnt need to be any harder than it is. I chuckled until I realized that chuckling hurt. I dont know how keen I am on going full cyborg, I said. You got any... Babys First Cybernetic Augmentation package? You know, some entry level drugs? The augmentations you can purchase are hardly drugs. Merely improvements on your weak, squishy human body. Well see, I said. First I want to get back to Gomorrah, Im sure shell be overjoyed that I didnt bite it. And then well figure things out from there. As you wish. Could use something for the soreness though, I said. You should consider yourself lucky that your last treatment of Nano Regeneratives is still running its course. It has been healing you as you go, albeit relatively slowly. Nice, I said. Any way to get some sort of auto-injector of some sort? Im certain something can be worked out. You could also purchase an internal nano-machine factory that turns the food you consume into micro-machines that constantly repair your body. Its relatively small, meant to sit just below your stomach. Sometimes you creep me out, you know, I said. Perhaps. Most Vanguard eventually adopt a few methods to prevent themselves from dying too easily. It is, as you may have noticed, a somewhat high-risk position to be in, even with all the advantages you obtain. I thought about it, actually thought it through, while making my way over the bridge. If I passed away, the kittens would be in a bit of shit. I couldnt afford to die just yet. Yeah, I said. That might not be the worst idea. Chapter Seventy - A Respite Chapter Seventy - A Respite Chapter Seventy - A Respite Samurai dont stay human. Dont misunderstand, theyre still very much people. Its just that you cannot expect an older, more experienced Samurai to be a normal human being. From prosthetic replacements for missing limbs to incredibly advanced body augmentations, over time, a Samurai will leave their mortal human shell behind and turn into something entirely different. Is it any wonder that some have a hard time sympathizing with the average person off the street? --Allan Pascal, online lecture on the psychology of body augmentations, 2031 *** Myalis had a lot of options to go over. Her tone didnt quite change from its usual calm cadence but I had the impression that she was quite excited by the prospect of turning me into some sort of walking cyborg machine. I dont know, I said to her last suggestion that I just get rid of everything inside my torso and replace it with a single machine. Im kind of fond of some of my internal organs. Theyve been with me my entire life. Its merely more cost effective in the long run to replace everything in one fell swoop rather than piecemeal. What if... I dont know, someone shoots me with a magnet? The system is hardly that failable. Also, someone could shoot you with a far cheaper standard bullet now and have the same impact on your lifespan at a much reduced cost. Point, I said as I reached the end of the bridge. I looked around another sort of open-concept concourse. You think we can take the elevators up? The elevators are still reporting as functional. On the subject of internal augmentations, it might all be a moot point. The more complex additions would require an operations suite to be installed, or else a series of drones to accomplish the operations and some time to recover afterwards. It would be unwise to do so in a battlefield. Then why are you pushing it so much? I asked as I started following the signs towards an elevator bank. Im getting you used to the idea now, so that its easier to convince you later. I snorted. Youre such a pain in the ass, I said. Of course not. Im merely thinking ahead. From your profile, I think its safe to assume that one of your goals in the near future will be to heal and fix as many of the injuries and defects that your kittens have, correct? Stepping into the elevator, I paused for a moment as the doors shut on their own and I started moving up. Yeah. Yeah thats one thing Ill definitely be doing soon. The points Id accumulated would be enough, I hoped. Some of the kittens only had little problems that I was sure a few meds could fix. Some had more complicated issues. Missing limbs would require some good prosthetics and the like. But I could afford them if I was a little more frugal with my points. In that case theres a good chance that youll be investing points into medical catalogues already. Im just ensuring that you make the best out of them. I crossed my arms and waited as we climbed up a few dozen floors. Myalis was... probably being as honest as she could be. The AI really did have a tendency to try and help, even if sometimes I questioned her intelligence a bit. What did you mean? I jumped about a foot in the air and looked around like the last deer caught in the headlights of a semi. My attention locked onto a pristine and unruffled Gomorrah who stepped out from a passage ahead. Youre alive, I said. I dont think there was any doubt about me surviving, she said. You, on the other hand, look like you took a dip through the first few circles of hell. Are you injured? No more than usual, I said. She shook her head. Thats not reassuring. I grinned back at her, looked around, and on spotting a nice little restaurant with some seats out front, made my way over to a nice bench where I could take some weight off my feet. Im a bit tired, I admitted. But Ill be fine. She looked me up and down. Take your time, she said. I was about to respond when a familiar clicking came from around the corner. I looked over in time to see Dumbass the First and Dumbass Two skittering around the corner, both of them hanging onto one end of a familiar rifle. My Whisper! I said. The Dumbasses came by my side and I picked the rifle from their back and looked it over. It had gained some scuffs and the bipod legs at the bottom were fucked, but it looked usable still. Nice work, Dumbasses. The drones spun around in a little dance while I set the gun across my lap. Youre a strange one, Gomorrah said. You need help replacing some of your gear? she asked. I wouldnt say no, I said. I think Ill need all the help I can get. Gomorrah pulled out a seat next to mine, then she looked over to a glass display with some sodas behind it. Temptation has a hold on me, she muttered before walking over to it. With an unexpectedly swift kick, she broke the glass front and pulled out a pair of sodas from the rack behind. She placed one onto the table next to me before sitting down with her own. Thanks, I said. I didnt peg you as the vandalism sort. Im thirsty, she said. I bet you are, I replied with a wiggle of my eyebrows that would have made Lucy proud. She scoffed and reached up under her hood. Her mask came off with a hiss, and the stern womans face was set aside to reveal a beautiful young woman. She had high cheekbones and the sort of symmetrical face bordered by messy blonde hair that could drive someone mad. With a face like that, I dont know why you wear that mask, I said. She glared at me, the look a lot stronger now that I could see her piercing blue eyes. Its because Id like to keep my face the way it is. With the amount of injuries you accrue you ought to think of armour yourself. I hummed. That was an idea. But it would need to wait for me to calm down a bit. *** Chapter Seventy-One - Tail Chapter Seventy-One - Tail Chapter Seventy-One - Tail The average pre-Invasion soldier had two and a half months of basic training. A lot of that was spent with whatever the standard arms of the time were. Then they would receive advanced training on the use of various specialty arms. In peacetime, that training could go on for months (with the training of more specialized troops spread over a year or more), perfecting their use of a particular weapon or weapons platform until they reached a level of base competency. Modern PMCs vary greatly. Some give week-long crash-training courses, similar to the training pre-invasion police received in some parts of the former United States. Others have training that lasts for upwards of six months before theyre considered ready to use a specific weapon in the field. A Samurai will often pick up a weapon, use it with no training, and discard it for another just as rapidly. --Major Hunt of Clenze PMC, on the subject of weapons expertise *** Just one thing, then we can head out, I said as I crushed the can Gomorrah had given me and flung it towards a trash can. It bounced off the nearest table, missing it by about a meter. Whats that? the nun asked while eyeing my incredible throwing prowess. I need to replace my back mounted weapons, I said. Theyre kinda handy to have and Id rather not get neck deep in crap without them. She nodded. Certainly then. I think we should be off after. The break is nice, but we have places to be. I stood up and wobbled a bit, my legs surprisingly weak. Or maybe not all that surprisingly. It had been a long day already. Once Id gotten my feet under me, I pulled off my jacket and tossed it onto the table nearest us. Then I pulled off my auto-holster jacket too and flung it on top of that. The air was a bit breezy once Id divested myself of pretty much everything I was wearing. I noticed Gomorrah staring at me rather hard. I wondered if she was checking me out or if she was more interested in the burns that marred the skin from just under my right ribs all the way over to the right side of my face. Burns, I explained. She snapped her attention away, face immediately turning red. I wasnt... she began but trailed off. A moment later she was fumbling her mask back on. They get stared at a lot, I said. You learn to ignore it. Of course, she said. I shook my head and shifted my now exposed back. Alright Myalis, lets get this busted up thing off. Of course. One moment. The Hydra will fall off in a few seconds. I felt the little attachments, those following along the line of my spine, warm up for just a moment before the entire device peeled off my back and crashed to the floor behind me. Ah, thanks, I said. The hydra hadnt been heavy, but it was a bit of a drag to have it hanging off me for so long. I turned around and picked up the hydra from the floor and spun it around a few times. It... wasnt in the best of shapes. A few of the parts that went over my back were bent and one entire arm was a mangled mess. Are you going to put a shirt on? Gomorrah asked. I blinked up at her. Huh? What, dont you nuns have communal showers or something? Ill need something with some kick, and something thats got a decent rate of fire for all the little, weaker aliens, I said. Two separate weapons? Thats certainly doable. Might I suggest a fully automatic plasma caster for one mount and perhaps a light sabot-firing railgun for your opposite shoulder. Now youre talking. New Purchase: Rapid-Fire Plasma Caster Points Reduced to... 4583 New Purchase: Farsight Light Railgun Canon Points Reduced to... 4483 Two more boxes appeared before me. One much thicker than the other, but neither of them were all that big. I popped open the first to reveal a rather... chubby weapon. It was the only way I could think to describe the gun. It didnt have any proper handle on it, and looked like someone had smashed two oranges together and stuck a small eggplant out the front. Okay? I said. Thats the plasma caster. The large protuberances are for the pellets the weapon fires and for its liquid cooling system. I didnt argue, just feeding the gun to the waiting arm over my left shoulder. The other was a lot cooler looking, at least. Long and sleek and matte black, with a forked barrel that glowed a faint pink from within. The lights are RGB based and are purely decorative. Vanguards seem to think that a weapon isnt truly dangerous unless it glows. The plasma caster doesnt glow, I said with a thumb pointing over my shoulder. The projectiles it fires are literally as hot as the surface of your local sun. Please trust me when I say that it does, indeed, glow. Fair enough, I said. Does this thing fire anything special? It fires sabot-rounds. The rate of fire is rather low, but the rounds can be equipped with all sorts of interesting and dangerous heads. I suspect youll enjoy them. I grinned wide. Well have to see. Lets get some ammo for these guys and well be off. I got to work and tore one of the Lancejets from the hydra mount, the one that didnt look like it had been dropped in a blender. Then I picked a few magazines for it and slotted them in my auto-loaders harness. The gun itself went in the sheath that Id been using for that plain old gun Id gotten from the PMC. Are you done? Gomorroah asked as she watched me toss my invisibility coat on. Yeah, I guess I am, I said. Myalis, got some meds I can take to heal me up while were on-route? Yes. But I suspect a few hours--or perhaps a day--of rest would do your body a lot of good. It has been through a lot. Well see what we can do once were out of this spot. *** Chapter Seventy-Two - In Service to the Prevention of Stupidity Chapter Seventy-Two - In Service to the Prevention of Stupidity Chapter Seventy-Two - In Service to the Prevention of Stupidity Theres this tendency for people to act a certain way in different situations. A person will act in a certain fashion around friends, in a different way with co-workers, and in an entirely different way with customers or their employer. The amount of respect and submissiveness most people show to Samurai though, is sometimes quite impressive. I suppose it goes to show that someone that can light you on fire with little difficulty and no consequences deserves some amount of respect, at least in appearance. That doesnt mean that people actually think how they act. --Quote from a discussion on the Void Fight forums, 2031 *** I walked next to Gomorrah, Whisper in hand and tail swaying contentedly with every step. That last was growing to be really annoying, but Id wasted enough of our time already that I didnt want to lose any more with telling Myalis to turn that off. We crossed another bridge, this one at a slight jog because I didnt feel like being caught out in the open again, but there were no huge-ass flying aliens out to get us this time. And then, just like that, we were on the same block as the hospital. I can see something, I said as I shifted over to the side of the corridor we were walking down and looked to the street below. Through the maze of passages and the faint haze of rain, I could just make out a dozen trucks parked across the street with maybe half that number of armoured transports set between them. There were civilians moving around there, easy to make out thanks to their colourful clothes, and soldiers in much more drab colours. I couldnt tell how many were moving about, but it was more than the one squad Id had with me. It seemed as if they were shifting people around from one vehicle to another already while also setting up a barricade with their trucks and their mounted roof-weapons. We need to get down there, I said. You dont trust them to figure things out? Gomorrah asked. Oh, theyll do a much better job than I would, I said. No doubt about that. Im just worried they might follow some asanine protocol and leave some people behind or do something else equally stupid. I figure being there with a big gun will keep everyone nice and honest. Gomorrah sighed. Thats... probably more true than Id want to admit. We should get down. We left the windowed corridor and headed deeper into the building. It wasnt too hard to find a way to the next building, then the next. Myalis, and Gomorrahs own AI, both had maps of the interior of the buildings and most of the locks we came across were either electronic, which were laughably poor at stopping Myalis, or they were big clunky things that Gomorah seemed to enjoy melting. I hesitated a bit. Those had been in the green zone earlier. Now the orange zone had moved down, so they were probably just on the edge of being at risk. But I also had to keep in mind that there were two thousand people jammed into trucks here with no way to know what was going on. No, I decided. Well get all of these people to the FOB, then maybe mount a rescue for the others. Itll be harder to get to them that way, but it wont put all of this bunch at risk. Cool, Speedy said. Ill bring you to the new boss man. Monroes being all stoic and shit but you can tell hes this close to popping the colonels head off. She pinched her fingers together an inch apart. I snorted. Well see what I can do. Cat, Gomorrah said. Im not one for talking things through. Ill be around still, but I want to patrol the edges of the barricades. I nodded. Alright. Will you be heading back with us? Of course, she said. With this many people... I wouldnt trust them all to you alone. I snorted and waved her off. Have fun. Make some points and so on. She nodded and walked off with a straight-back stride and her hands tucked in their opposites sleeve. I watched her go for a bit before turning back to Speedy. Speedy who was staring at my backside. Enjoying the view? I asked wryly. She barked a laugh and shook her head. You have a tail now, she pointed out. Thatll make sitting down interesting. I glared at her, but it was Myalis who deserved the wrath. Its new, I said. So, want to bring me to this colonel of yours? Urgh, hes not mine. Snooty little paperpusher like him. The opposite of attractive, Speedy said as she started off. The kind of guy my mom would love. Probably has retirement savings instead of planning on going out in a blaze of glory and unpaid healthcare bills like a normal person. I kept a lid on my grin as we walked into the crowd of civvies milling about and being directed into lines by harried looking soldiers. We got a surprisingly nice berth, either because of Speedys uniform or because people recognized me in passing. Dumbass the First and the other remaining Dumbass flanked me. Speedy brought us past the mess with the trucks and to a sort of temporary base set up in the middle of the intersection. There were two transport vehicles. Low-slung things that opened at the back to reveal twin rows of seats that were being filled by the staff of the hospital. A row of armoured cars created a barrier on the other side, while in the middle of it all sat a huge six-wheeled monstrosity of a vehicle and a single light tank with its barrel pointing off down the road. Damn, I said. I hadnt expected them to roll out with quite that much firepower, especially not for what was meant to be an otherwise simple pickup as far as I could tell. Maybe it was a good thing, seeing as how Id turned the simple pick-up into something a bit more complex. I know, right? Speedy said. Cmon, the big boss guy is in the mobile base. Right, I said. Chapter Seventy-Three - Forms Chapter Seventy-Three - Forms Chapter Seventy-Three - Forms The average age that Samurai become Samurai has shifted over time, but it still more or less rests in the 16-19 age bracket. That means that there are some who become Samurai at a younger age. William Clarke is the youngest reported Samurai, at age 13, 3 months and a few days. There are some Samurai who are still beholden by contract to attend private schools, or who still live with their parents. The legality of those situations aside, it basically means that some Samurai chose to continue living their lives fairly normally. This is, to some, a strange choice to make. But it is a choice enforced by some of the older Samurai, who were also children once. Its the kind of choice where, were a normal person to refusing it, would lead to predictably dire consequences. It goes without saying that people who bully Samurai children are soon unable to do so. --Excerpt from Bill Ludlums, The Samurai and the Family Unit, 2038 *** I slowed down as I approached the mobile base. Not because I was nervous or anything--being able to summon explosives by uttering two syllables did wonders for a girls self-esteem--but because the damned thing was fucking enourmous. The wheels, all six of them, were taller than I was and about as wide as I could spread both arms, all that around a frame that had enough room under it that I could have walked under just by ducking my head a little. A ramp was lowered off to the side so that people could climb in and out of the vehicle. Craning my neck back allowed me to take in the two gun emplacements on the side I was facing, both smaller arms like those atop the trucks. A larger one was set in a turret on the roof next to a bristling set of antennae and dishes. Cool, I said again. The soldiers by the entrance stiffened when Speedy and I got close. Shes alright, Speedy said. Were here for Burke. Geett the latest novels at novelhall.com One of the soldiers, the one with the fancier symbol stitched over his chest, shifted a little. Is this the Samurai? he asked while still facing Speedy head-on. I had the impression that he was almost afraid to meet my eyes instead of being a dismissive asshole. Yeah, Speedy said. This is Stray Cat? She turned my way, the tilt of her head hinting at a question. Thats what they call me, I replied with a shrug. I was alright with the name. Lucy would get a kick out of it when I saw her. I wiped my meat hand over my lips as I buried the pang of longing I felt at the thought of Lucy and the kittens. The soldiers got out of our way in a hurry and I picked up Dumbass the First and carried it close while I climbed up and into the mobile base. The other Dumbass could stay outside and freak out the soldiers for a bit. The inside of the base was tight, with passages that would barely let two people move past each other. The walls were lined by lockers, a bit like the inside of the mobile armory Id been in, but I could see computer stations deeper in with some folks jacked into what was no doubt a movable matrix connection. Near the top bridge, Speedy said as she pointed to the front. Top bridge? I asked. This thing has a pilotting room at the front and a bridge kind of above it? Its got a weird layout, she explained as we moved towards the front. There were surprisingly few people around, which was probably for the best. The tight corridors reminded me a bit of the inside of a submarine from an old movie. I got that, I muttered. Well, Colonel Burke, your protocol is cute and all, but we need to go. Now. Is there any clear and present danger, maam? he asked. He was smiling now, like someone in on the joke. I decided not to say that it would annoy me if they didnt move, that was a bit petty, even for me. I plan on filling the area with anti-alien traps. Your men can help me with that. Which means the convoy needs to get moving. You can tell the civilians to email you in a week or two in order to get their invoices or whatever. Burke rubbed at his chin. That does sound like it might be something that would harm Cleanze materials and personnel. I think I will have no choice but to order the immediate repacking and movement of the convoy. Uh-huh, I said. Youre a sneaky one, huh? He grinned at me. Ive filled my share of forms. Is there a form you can fill out to say that the squad that was with me did a good job? I asked. Burke looked taken aback for a moment. There is, yes. Good, I said. They went out of their way to help, especially Monroe and Speedy. Id give them some toys but I bet there are protocols for that too. He nodded along. Ill make note of it. Thank you, Samurai. I gave him a salute that made Speedys look downright textbook. Im going to go kill a few more xenos. Can you try to get everyone moving fast-like? Well do our best, he said. I hopped out of the bridge area feeling rather content with the meeting. Burke did seem like he had a stick up his ass about protocols, but he also knew what they were worth in the end. I got out of the mobile base with Dumbass by my side, then took a moment to look around and try to find out what to do next. Hey, any of you two see Gomorrah? I asked the soldiers on guard duty. Um, maam? one of them asked. Whats Gomorrah? I gestured at about headheight. Yay tall, stick up ass, looks like a nun. Likes fire... a lot. You mean the other Samurai? Shes by the west flank maam. I stared for a few long seconds until he lifted a hand and rather sheepishly pointed off to the left. Thanks, I said. Returning to Gomorrah? Yeah, I said after I was a little ways away. I bet shes found something to burn while she was out, which means there might also be something to shoot. I might find Monroe too and give him a buttload of explosives to mine the road with, make true on what I said. It was time, I figured, to start heading back. To the green zone, to safety, and maybe to my friends. *** Chapter Seventy-Four - Thoughts and Prayers Chapter Seventy-Four - Thoughts and Prayers Chapter Seventy-Four - Thoughts and Prayers The generation born between 2000 and 2010 are often called the lost generation by some modern historians. Born at a time where the unchecked growth of corporate entities began to spiral out of control, and hit by three massive recessions and two global pandemics--not to mention the first Antithesis incursions--by 2025, the entire generation can be said to have lost the opportunities that those who came before had. How strange it is, then, that they slipped so easily into the shoes of their predecessors. --Excerpt from The Lost Generation: the 2000s to now. by an anonymous writer, 2047 *** I found Gomorrah in an unexpected position. She was off to one side of the front line, sitting in the passenger seat of one of the PMCs little humvee. She had her hands clasped together and her head turned down, lips moving silently to say something that I couldnt hope to catch as I approached. Religion had never been my thing, so I didnt know if it was cool to just... barge in and interrupt or something. Usually I wouldnt have given a damn, but Gomorrah was pretty chill and she also had flamethrowers which was always a good argument for leaving someone be. A look around revealed a bunch of nothing. The Cleanze soldiers had set up a barricade of sorts with their carts, guns pointed out along the street, but as far as I could tell there werent any aliens on us yet. We probably had a few minutes before the bigger part of the hoard came around looking for something to snack on. I can hear you breathing, Gomorrah said. I reached up and touched my mask. Did the little exhaling tab on it make noise? You done praying? I asked. She slowly lifted her head and lowered her hands. Prayer is one of those things where youre never quite done. Ah, I said. Like taxes. You do know that we dont pay taxes, right? she asked. Religious exemption? I asked. No, I meant you and me. Were Samurai. No taxes. Not even sales taxes. Theyre removed automatically. She grabbed onto a handle above the door and used it to swing herself out of the car. One of the many little advantages to being Vanguards. Neat, I said. I can live with the idea that I dont need to pay those. Do we need to fill out income tax returns too? Gomorrah tilted her head a bit and I had the impression she was thinking. You know, I have no idea. I shrugged. Well, whatever. So, uh, prayer, huh? What of it? Gomorrah asked. Damn right, I said. When youre hungry, you find a rich person to eat. The nun pushed off the car and stretched. Youre a bit of an idiot, she said. But I think you have your heart in the right place. You mean I still have a heart. Myalis is probably plotting ways for me to replace it with some high-tech pump. Gomorrah laughed again. Ah, my AI is the same. He keeps insisting that I need to replace my skin with something a little more flameproof. Which, while that would be nice, it would also turn me a little bit blue, and my skin would then be lethal to anything eating me. You planning on getting eaten? I asked while turning my voice a little sultry. The nun spun away from me. Id bet my last handful of credit that she was blushing under that mask. I take it back. Your heart is dark as pitch. I was about to mention how other parts of me were far more fun anyway, when we were interrupted by someone jogging over to us. It didnt take much for me to recognize Monroe. Maams, he said before snapping off a salute. We have a bit of an issue. I was hoping I could request your assistance. Whats up? I asked. We think the hives changing tactics. Gomorrah said something that wasnt very Christian and shifted. I... had no idea what he was on about. Fortunately, Myalis did. An Antithesis hive will give birth to new models as time goes on, usually taking some time to produce stronger and more lethal but also more time-consuming to grow models. This is a normal progression. That normal progression is sometimes not suited to combat in any given environment. That means that the hive can stop producing models that are ineffective and focus on those that work. Whats the change? I asked. We have reports from teams all across the incursion border. The orange zones have shifted back, but the ground models have been replaced by fliers. Lots of them. What, theyre trying to swarm people? I asked. Monroe shook his head. Theyre seeing more Model Twos and Ones. Some Nines as well. We think theyre looking for resistance first instead of scavenging as they go. I frowned, then started paying attention to the noises in the background. The muttering and talking of a thousand-off annoyed people was still audible, but I could now make out the thumping of AA guns in the distance. AA guns that we didnt have here. Okay, I said. We need to get moving faster, and we need to set up some sort of deterrent. Fuck mining the streets, weve got a new priority. *** Chapter Seventy-Five - A Flock of Trouble Chapter Seventy-Five - A Flock of Trouble Chapter Seventy-Five - A Flock of Trouble PTSD, or Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, is a mental condition triggered by a terrible event, causing flashbacks, nightmares and severe anxiety. It was common amongst soldiers throughout history, but has impacted even civilians who have gone through traumatizing events. With the first incursion, the precedent for PTSD has risen to an all time high. Which is why you should always carry some Spauitive! Recommended by 9 out of 10 psychologists to instantly cure* any signs of PTSD, both as diagnosed by a medical professional, and at home!* Get your Spauitive today delivered right to your doorstep with a 20% discount* by entering the promo-code: Depression!Re?a?d new chapters at novelhall.com --An ad for Spauitive! a highly concentrated psychadellic and opioid, 2050 *** Take these! I called out as I swung my arm around. Myalis, who was obviously fond of dramatics, made five turrets appear under my hand in time with the sweeping motion. Each one was bundled up with some ammunition and guns already, though they would still take some time to set up. Monroe, who by virtue of knowing me had been promoted from Sergeant to... still Sergeant but more in charge, pointed to teams of two and sent them off to different trucks. The soldiers had painted big numbers on the sides of each vehicle, and had replaced our volunteer drivers with some of their own already. Five groups left towards five trucks, the last ones to be fitted with gun emplacements. Think itll be enough? I asked. Its ten minutes from here to the FOB, Monroe said. Thats a lot of ground to cover while under attack, so every additional gun will be worth its weight in credits. Yeah, fair, I said. The soldiers had a pair of ladders which they were using to rush onto the roofs of some of the trailers, while others just climbed from the trucks bumper into its hood, then jumped onto the top of their trailers from there. Daring, but it worked. Sir! Maam! one young soldier said as he ran over. We have people moving our way. Contacts, about one hundred in all. Where? I asked. I was pointed off towards one road, the one I knew Gomorrah wasnt guarding. That way, maam. Monroe and I took off jogging through the drizzle, heading right towards the blockade that was even now coming apart as everything was packed away with military efficiency. That efficiency had paused as every soldier in the area was reaching for their arms and sighting down the road. I hopped up the low-slung fender of one of the Cleanze cars then glared out ahead at the crowd approaching us. At first glance, they were just a few dozen people in wet, bedraggled clothes. Normal folk of all ages shuffling together as if sticking together would grant them any sort of protection. It was only on looking carefully at the way most of them were walking with a bit of a stutter that things got really weird. Far too many of them wore bloody clothes or looked like theyd tried to tear off their outfits. We were greeted at the mobile base by a still-impeccable Colonel Burke. Lady Samurai, he greeted us as soon as we were on board. I take it youre ready to go? Yeah, I said. Lets get out of this place. The man nodded then turned to one of his adjuncts who seemed to be waiting for him. Give the signal, were moving back. There was a snap of yessir, and a moment later the entire mobile base rocked as it got into gear and started to move along with the pondering slowness of something that weighed as much as the average house. Well be on the roof, Gomorrah said as she moved towards the back. I shrugged, waved Burke off, and followed. By the time we made it to the roof of the base the entire convoy was moving, which is to say, it was crawling along at a snails pace. The roads were covered in too many wrecks to get any good speed, and with so many choke points, trucks had to slip by in single file. Sometimes that required that they maneuver around tight corners, stopping to realign halfway through while all the rest waited. The smaller armoured cars didnt have that problem, but they couldnt just rush ahead. Still, the PMCs seemed to have their shit together. They never let the convoy spread out too much and had cars waiting at intersections in case a flood of aliens spawned out of thin air. This endeavor of yours is working out surprisingly well. I dont know if youre making as many points as you would have had you merely kept fighting, but you are definitely saving more lives this way. Maybe, I said. Were still leaving a lot of people behind. Gomorrah looked my way for a bit, but she didnt seem to have anything to add to my apparently one-sided conversation. Points arent everything. They are a means to an end, and that end is often ensuring the survival of as many as you can. I nodded before leaning against the side of a post with a sort of antenna sticking out of it. I was... tired. The day had been a long one even if it was still just mid-afternoon. I could probably keep going, but it was only going to work thanks to an over abundance of adrenaline and some self-asskicking. I wanted to be back with my friends, with the kittens and Lucy. Was I selfish? Cat! I tore myself away from my own contemplations and looked over to Gomorrah. She was pointing to the sky. A sky darkened by flitting black forms. My new eye zoomed in on the mass slowing around the tops of the nearest buildings like a smog bank and made out hundreds, maybe thousands of pitch-black birds. Model Ones? I asked. More than that, the nun added. Theyre heading this way too. I picked up my gun with a sigh. Well, more points for us, then. Chapter Seventy-Six - The Big Players Chapter Seventy-Six - The Big Players Chapter Seventy-Six - The Big Players Younger Samurai, and by that, we mean those who turned into Samurai recently (it has nothing to do with age!) are generally pretty well protected by the older ones. But they cant stop us from shipping them! --Deceased anonymous forum user, 2030 *** There were so many flying models out ahead that they were practically a cloud of living flesh, swarming out towards us like grasping vines. Damn, I said. Im going to need a bigger flamethrower, Gomorrah said. I nodded, ready to agree with her, when a large flamethrower appeared right next to Gomorrah at just the right height for her to grab onto its twin handles and angle its nozzle up. It was nearly all-black, except for white detailing within and it was festooned in crosses and skulls and small statuettes across its entire surface. Did... did you put extra points into making it all... gaudy? I asked. Dont you have more important things to focus on? she asked. Not right at this very second, no, I said. I gestured to the swarm approaching us. Weve got like a minute before were pecked apart. Im not going to spend it moping. Gomorrah sighed. You are so unserious. Thats not a word, Im sure, I said. You know what I meant, she snapped. And yes. I did spend an extra point to decorate my flamethrower. So what? Nothing, nothing. I mean, its not my kind of thing, but it looks really pious or whatever. Im sure Jesus will appreciate you burning things to death more if your flamethrower has the symbol of the thing that killed him on it. Shut up, Cat, she said. At least Im not slowly turning into some sort of heathen animal person. Youre one fur coat away from being a god-damned furry, you know that, right? I slapped a hand over my chest. That stings, little G. I didnt know why I felt so disappointed, or betrayed for that matter. Pretty much. Cant let the small fry die because they bit off more than they can chew, she said. Plus youve been out for what, five hours? Six? Go take a break. In a couple of hours itll all be over. She glanced past me and to the road we were leaving behind. On that note, Im off. Ill give you a call tomorrow. She bunched her legs up under her and jumped into the air with her entire rig pulling her up and away. I lowered Whisper by my side and looked over the field of dead Model Ones. A minute ago Id been wondering if I could take them all on, and now they were dead. It felt as if someone had just yanked me around and shown me the chasm between me and the other Samurai out there. Damnation, Gomorrah said. I got this thing for nothing. She wiggled her flamethrower about. I sighed. You can probably make toast with it or something, I said. My guns retracted and I slung Whisper over a shoulder before looking out ahead of us. We were getting closer to the front meter by meter. At that rate, wed be there in a few more minutes. You think were done? I asked. Gomorrah nodded. For this incursion? Probably. I dont know how much time youve spent with other Samurai, but they tend to treat new ones like, well, they treat us like children. It gets better relatively quickly though. I think its more about how well you can pull your weight. Hmm, I said. That made a sort of sense. Wed done a lot today, Gomorrah and I, but I was willing to bet that an older, or rather a more experienced Samurai, could do a lot more a whole lot more efficiently. Home, Gomorrah said. Home, I replied. Not... I dont think I have a home, exactly. You mentioned someone close to you, no? she asked. I nodded along. Yeah. I guess wherever she is, thats home. Im pretty sure Myalis can track her down for me. That would be as easy as... done. My mood lightened a bit at that, so I found a spot to sit on the railings running around the roof and enjoyed the bumpy ride. It had been a hard days work, but one capped by some success. More success than failure. And in the end, Id get to see Lucy and the kittens again. That meant all sorts of new problems, but I doubted theyd be as challenging as facing an alien invasion while poorly prepared. *** Chapter Seventy-Seven - Anticlimax Chapter Seventy-Seven - Anticlimax Chapter Seventy-Seven - Anticlimax We crossed the barricaded street and moved through a crowd of wide-eyed idiots who didnt seem to understand the concept of not standing right next to the incursion zone. It was probably not that big a deal, but I imagined one of those bigger flying bastards showing up. There would probably be more deaths to trampling than anything the xeno could do. The mobile base came to a rolling stop next to the temporary forward base Id visited just a few hours ago. Hours that felt like weeks. Where will you be going now? Gomorrah asked. I looked over at the nun. I... I think Im going to go check on my family, I said. They were caught in the middle of all that and... She nodded. Thats fine. You go see if theyre safe. I think Im going to stick to the edges for a while. I doubt there will be much work for me to do, but Ill be around if Im needed. Cool, I said. Keep in touch? I asked before extending a closed fist towards her. She bumped it after a moments hesitation. Likewise. I grinned at her before stepping off the side of the mobile base. Or at least, over the railing, then down along one of the sloped sides and onto one of the tires. The drop from there was a bit lower and a whole lot more manageable. The two Dumbasses clattered along after me with robot-cat-like grace. It earned me a few looks, but the pervasive dont fuck with a Samurai field kept people off my back. You got the kittens address? I asked. I do. The rooms theyre in have cameras. I can confirm that theyre in good health and somewhat safe. Somewhat? I asked. Theyre within five kilometers of the edge of an incursion. That was... a fair point. I was going to comment on it when I saw a familiar soldier moving by. Monroe! I called out. The man stopped and turned my way. Maam? he asked. Hey, you think I can borrow a car? I asked. And, uh, someone to drive it? Are you returning into the incursion zone? he asked. Im afraid that, per corporate regulations, our squadron wont be able to return for another few hours, but I can find another to accompany you. Nah, I said. I just need someone to drive me out into the city. Uh, the part of the city not filled with aliens. Oh, he said. One moment then. The soldier turned away while bringing a hand up to the side of his head. I could hear a faint murmur as he spoke at someone, but his helmet insulated me from most of it. Speedy is free, he said. You can meet her over by the hovercarpool. Thats just over there. We appropriated a parking garage. Thanks Monroe, I said. No problem maam. And good work out there. We did good. I gave him a thumbs up before he went on his way, then I took off in the direction hed pointed me in. The parking garage was a few floors up, but the power was still on and the elevator I called down cleared up real fast when the people within took a look at me. I was a bit... bloody looking. My pants had a few tears and my hair was a bit wild. I tried to fix myself up using the reflection on the inside of the stainless steel door. When I stepped out of the elevator--having given up on cleaning myself--it was to find Speedy waiting for me leaning against the far wall. Heya boss, she said before flashing me a gap-toothed grin. The meds Id given her were supposed to grow her missing teeth back, but that still left her looking like a meth addict for a bit. Th.e? most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m Heya Speedy, I said. I requisitioned one of the faster cars, she said while pointing over her shoulder with a thumb. The faster car turned out to be some sort of muscle car, all squarish and brutal, with armored plates riveted to its sides and a light bar across the roof. It even had additional lights at the front; the super-bright sort that could blind a person in mid-day if they annoyed the driver. Speedy was giggling to herself as she slid into the drivers seat. I was tempted to maybe call up an Uber instead of riding with her, but the extra effort that would demand--and the charge on my rather pitiful credit account--lead me to folding. Where to? Speedy asked as she settled into her seat. She grinned, then that grin faded a bit. Your threats arent any fun when I know you could carry them out, she said. Can I get an arm like that? Oh, and you still owe me a knife. I barked a laugh. Fuck off, I said. She pulled the door open wider to let me in, then, because she was a little shit, she shouted. Room service! I swear! came an all too familiar and angelic voice. When I find out which one of you ordered room service again Ill... Lucy stepped around a corner and froze up. Cat! I was rammed backwards by a few dozen kilos of worried Lucy, her arms squishing me tight while her crutches clattered to the floor behind her. Lucy, I said as I pulled her close and let my head fall atop her head. Oh, youre alive, she said. Why do you sound surprised? I asked. The joke fell short when I saw the tears in her eyes. Hey, its okay? She sniffled, then smiled before climbing onto tip toes and pressing her lips against mine. Her hands crawled up my sides and she let out a surprised little noise when she bumped into my new arm. I melted a little, the stress keeping me rigid dissolving, and when she tugged me back and we stumbled deeper into the penthouse, it was all I could do not to collapse onto the floor with her. Kids! Lucy said as she pulled away for just a second. Were going to be busy for a bit. There was a chorus of ewws from the Kittens. And then a deluge of questions. Where had I been, did I kill lots of aliens? Did I film it? Could they see my guns? What was up with my new eye, and the arm? Later, I said while counting heads. The twins were there. Nose was on a couch staring at a screen. Daniel was out of his chair and on another couch where he waved. Spark and Tim were... doing something to a toaster and Bargain and Nemo were paused halfway through the act of rolling across the hardwood floor mid-fight. Thats all I had time to see before Lucy yanked me into a bedroom. A nice one, with a four-poster bed, and an attached bathroom and a thick carpet underfoot. My boots came off with a clunk and my invisibility jacket fell off at some point. And then I was sitting on the edge of the bed, Lucy pressing down on me until I fell. How was your day? she asked rather coyly. It just got better, I said. She paused, eyeing me down from within a curtain of her long hair. Do you want to talk about it? I... maybe? I said. She smiled. Give me a minute then. I need to use the washroom, and then we can... talk. I grinned up at her and watched her move off. She was a bit awkward without her crutches, but it was fine. A temporary problem. My head rested back onto the bed and I smiled at the lingering scent of Lucys cheap shampoo. Good night, Cat. I didnt have the energy to ask Myalis what she meant. I was safe. I was as close to home as I could possibly be. My eyes slid shut... *** Stray Cat Strut - Book Two - A Young Ladys Guide to Exploding the Corporate Ladder Stray Cat Strut - Book Two - A Young Lady''s Guide to Exploding the Corporate Ladder Geett the latest novels at novelhall.com Cat is in the unenviable position of having to explode her way up the corporate ladder in order to uncover certain nasty little secrets. Chapter One - Heart-Warming Chapter One - Heart-Warming Chapter One - Heart-Warming I shifted. Something poked at my back, just a bit above my ribs. Had Lucy snuck into my bed again? I loved the girl, but sometimes she was all elbows and knees and a real pain to sleep beside. Turning a little, I found myself rolling onto my stumpy side, only to run into a bit of a problem. I had an arm. Or rather, a second arm. Some of the sleep-addled grogginess faded a little and I turned back onto my back and blinked up at an entirely unfamiliar ceiling. There wasnt any cracked drywall above me. Instead, I could see a ceiling with recessed LEDs through the gauzy curtains of a four-poster bed. There was no way in fuck that I was back at the orphanage. What times it? I mumbled as I started to look around. I was still dressed. At least, I had pants on, and a jacket which left my stomach bare. My uncovered feet felt just shy of chilly. Its six forty in the morning. Your daily allotment of points has come in. Your total is sitting at eight thousand, two hundred eighty-three points. I started a little at the voice that... had come from somewhere in my head. Memories came back. The museum, the sky tearing open and aliens raining down around us. Getting impaled and becoming a Samurai... Myalis guiding and trolling me. The kittens flying off to safety. A few interminable and stressful hours spent trying to save people. Crap, I said as I sat up on the edge of the bed. Id made a mess of the topmost blankets. My invisibility jacket was covered in alien blood and non-alien blood and a lot of dust and crap. A miracle Lucy even let me into the room with it on. Another memory returned. Did I sleep through sex? I asked with mounting horror. You didnt make it far enough to make your statement even remotely true. Fuck me. That is, in fact, what didnt happen. I groaned as I got up. Whisper, my stealth crossbow, rested against the wall next to the door. None of the kittens had grabbed it, at least. I still had my back-mounted guns and tail on, and a hand cannon tucked under my new cybernetic arm. Im a mess, I said. Id offer you some sort of self-cleaning system, but the washrooms in this place are... adequate. I took off my jacket and flung it onto a sofa off to one side. Someone would need to clean the sofa, someone not me. Yeah, I said. Lets see if we can get some food first. And check on the kittens. The penthouse we had was divided up into little rooms. Lucy dumped me in the big suite the night before, but from the open doors I crossed on the way to the kitchen area, the other suites seemed pretty damned luxurious too. The wide open lobby area, sofas and a wrap-around television off to one side, took up a space longer than a bus. Everything done in marble and wood, with a pinch of gilding here and there. I would have called it ostentatious, but somehow it wasnt. Obviously, theyd hired some decorators to make the place look like an old-money palace. Nose and Little Tim were knocked out on the couch, the TV playing some Samurai cartoon on mute. I elected not to bother them as I moved around an island bigger than my room back at the orphanage and yanked open the door to the fridge behind it. The damned thing was stocked. I grabbed some cereals of the colourful sort in one of the cupboards and an expensive glass bottle of genuine cow milk in the door. She smiled right back. I waited plenty last night, but someone decided to fall asleep. Much to my annoyance, a few of the kittens caught on and laughed at my reddening cheeks. Oh, shut up you lot, I had a long day. Is that your excuse now? Junior asked as she came around and took a seat just a ways to my side. She slid the box of cereal over, then huffed and got up to fetch a bowl. You still owe me a knife, she said as she fished for a spoon. Might as well, I sighed. Lucy, you wanna order that breakfast? Also, wheres Dumbass? Sure, Lucy said as she clacked her way over to an old-school phone on a pedestal nearby. Nemo ran off, returning a minute later with one of my little drones clutched between both hands. It was Dumbass the First, sans gun mounting. I had the drones disarm when the children started playing with them. How responsible, I said before clearing my throat. Alright, you little shits. This is Dumbass. Its got some fancy medical scanner doodad in it. You let it scan you, then Myalis, my wonderful brain worm AI buddy, will tell me how to cure the stupid out of you lot. If that were possible, wouldnt you think Id have tried to talk you into curing yourself a long time ago?'' I saw Lucy pausing by the phone, and a few of the kittens were looking at the drone with wide, hopeful eyes. Th-thank you, Bargain said. Oh, shut up, I said. You know Im just doing it to impress Lucy. Lucy snorted before picking up the phone. Junior barked a laugh next to me. Youre a shit liar, she said. And dont think that curing some incurable sickness will let you off the hook. I rolled my eyes while Dumbass got to work. For... fine. Myalis, we got any sort of knife available? You do. In your Sun Watcher Technologies catalogue. The cheapest is a survivalist knife with an extendable monofilament blade. It will cost you five points. Perfect, I said. A cheap plastic box appeared on the table before me and I slid it over to Junior. Her eyes lit up as she tore the package open and pulled out a foot-long knife. Monofilament blade, I said. Dont kill yourself. Awesome, she said, then her smile froze and she turned the knife around. Wait, whys it got a cat on the handle? I blinked and leaned over. There was, in fact, a feline on the handle. But it wasnt a cat, it was a kitten. I think its the button to retract the blade, I said. Whys it shaped like a cat? A kitten, I said. Just like you! She glared, which warmed my heart. Alright! Time to pull a Jesus. *** Chapter Two - A Slice of Happiness Chapter Two - A Slice of Happiness Chapter Two - A Slice of Happiness Times of peace arent uncommon. But they never really last. --Deus Ex, June 2057 *** So, whatve you got for me? I asked Myalis while looking over at Dumbass the First. I suppose I could start with the youngest and work my way up. Sure, I said. So well start with Nose, or is Spark younger? I believe that Nose is the youngest, judging by the scans Dumbass has taken. The kittens were all gathered around the kitchen island still, even Lucy who returned from ordering breakfast with a sly smile on. Daniel had pulled around on his chair and waved me hello before deep-diving into his phone. Nose and Spark were both standing near the edge of the table and looking at me without blinking. Nose... and that is an awful name that Ive no doubt you had something to do with, seems to suffer from Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease. Its at the third stage. Its rather surprising that he can still function moderately well. He has a few other conditions mostly centred around his nasal cavity and esophagus. Nose is a tough little shit, I said. Nose nodded seriously. Yeah. Got a cure? Obviously. A nano repair suite should be sufficient to cure the ailment. I grinned. Dont keep us waiting, Myalis. And tab it all up for me in one go at the end. A box appeared on the island, small and cheap. Inside was an inhaler with a tank the size of a soda can and a red button on the top. Its front was shaped like a rather basic oxygen mask. Spread out the use over the course of the day. Tell Nose to drink a lot of water and have a big, varied meal later. Hes got a few nutritional deficiencies. In fact, all of them, you included, do.There are also traces of heavy metals in your blood and in some of your organs, some nitrates, plastics, and a few other chemicals that I suspect were used as fertilizer and pesticides. Its fortunate that humans are so resilient, or youd all be tumorous masses by now. I slid the inhaler over to Nose. Take a puff every hour or so. And then eat a lot tonight. Oh, and down a couple of glasses of water, alright? Id need to get some sort of detox thing for all the kittens later, but that could probably wait a day. Yeah! he said before taking the inhaler. Everyone watched as he took a deep breath from it, then coughed a few times. Tickles, he said. Itll get better, I said. Sparks, youre up next. Alright! Sparks said. Hit me up, doc Cat. Sparks has an interesting one. It seems like a sort of prion disease. I suspect he came into contact with something while very young. It has mostly kept to his parietal lobe, reducing his ability to feel touch. Right, I said. Its why hes called Spark, he likes licking power outlets.Th.e? most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m I dont! Spark protested. It just feels weird. A simple Neuro Regenerative should do. Another box, this one with a red plastic nib and drawn instructions on the side to place it against the crook of the arm. Can you figure it out? I asked. Im not an idiot, he said before fumbling with the injector. He didnt even wince as he pulled back his sleeve and jabbed it in. Whens this going to work? he asked. It will take approximately an hour for the first signs of regression to show. Six for a complete cure. Also, hes far too thin. I suspect that he cant feel hunger pangs at all. Give it until this afternoon, I said. And eat more. Youre too damned thin. Tim, youre too thin too. Okay, so, for my final acts... Daniel, youve got some sort of muscular fuck-up-edness, right? Thats the medical term, yeah, he agreed with a grin. Muscular dystrophy. Chemically induced at that. A rather simple fix. I flung the next box over to him and he saluted me back. Thanks, love. Dont try. How long until I can start dancing? Two to three days. I snorted. Your pasty white ass will never be able to dance, I said. But in a few days, youll be able to traumatize the kids by trying. He flipped me the bird, but it was while still smiling. Well see. And finally, we have Junior. She... is merely malnourished, with traces of contaminants in her blood that will pass eventually. Junior, I said. Yeah? she asked as she looked up from her bowl. Youre too fucking skinny. Fuck you, she said. I felt a shy, tentative hand touching my shoulder. What about me? Lucy asked. Lucy has Multiple Sclerosis. A simple enough thing to cure. A fresh box appeared on the table. Give her those. Then allow for a few hours to restore all of her cognitive functions. It might be mildly unpleasant. Afterwards, shell need to practice walking and running once more. Youll need to take these, I said. But theyll make you feel all tingly. She smiled up at me. Tingly, huh? she asked. Will you help me get rid of all my tingles? I leaned down and our lips met for a moment while I fiddled with the box with my free hand. I had the tablets out soon enough and was carefully pressing the single pill between her lips. For fucks sake, get a room, Junior said. Dont do that in front of my cereal. Lucy and I happily complied, though it was a bit hard to make it back to the room with our faces practically glued together. Oh, oh man, it really is tingly, Lucy said as she sat on the edge of the bed. My feet are all... You know when your arms go to sleep and then they come awake? She wiggled her legs, then wiggled them some more as she slid off the pyjama pants she was wearing to expose two beautiful dark legs. I got to my knees to capture one of her feet. Carefully, I started to massage it, just a bit of pressure in the way she always liked. The pleased little noise she made said a lot. I leaned down and pressed a kiss onto the top of her foot. And then, before I could lean back, a pair of panties dropped down and came to rest around her ankles. I looked up to meet Lucys bright eyes. You said youd take care of all the parts that tingled. So I did, I agreed. *** Interlewd One Interlewd One Interlewd One I trailed kisses up Lucys leg while my hands fumbled with the zipper of my autoloader jacket. By the time Id reached her thigh and her hands fell onto my head and started scratching into my scalp in a most delicious way, I was tearing the coat off. Cat, Lucy said. Her voice was breathy and husky and sending shivers down my spine. Yeah? I asked. Whens the last time you took a shower? Uh. You smell like... rubber and smoke, she added. Yeah, I was a bit busy yesterday, with that kind of thing, I admitted. I leaned down and gave myself a sniff and... yeah, I needed a shower. That splashed some cold water onto my libido. You know, the showers here are really big, Lucy said. And Im already dressed for a shower. I looked up to see her casually slip out of her top. Oh, I said. I got up a little awkwardly, then extended my hands to Lucy to help her onto her feet. She was so light that I barely felt the strain of lifting her, and the little two-step she did to slip her panties off her feet made the blood rushing to my ears sound like a pulsing waterfall. Lets go? she asked. I nodded, bent down, then scooped her up into a bridal carry while she squeaked. Always wanted to do that, I said. Give a girl two arms and all of a sudden shes all gallant, she said before bending forwards to press her lips against mine. For a moment I forgot that we were supposed to be going anywhere. But Lucy reminded me by trailing a hand behind me and pinching my rear. Get moving, she said. Your new arm is cold. She wiggled her legs, both currently draped over my new forearm, for emphasis. The en-suite bathroom was huge, with two sinks (why?) and a shower that was bigger than the entire bathroom back at the orphanage, with glass walls and a tiled backdrop covered in little carved flowers. I set Lucy down only for her to push against me and seal her lips against mine. Her hands fumbled at my belt while mine slid down her back and pulled her closer. She pulled back for a moment, then gestured at my shoulders. Youre wearing that into the shower? she asked. I swallowed. Oh, right. Uh. I couldnt recall how to remove the back-mounted guns, not through the haze in my mind. Myalis, how do I get this off? You only had to ask. The mounting running along my spine undid itself with faint little pops and it fell to the ground, tail and all. Lucy looked up to me. Is, um, Myalis... watching? If it reassures her, I have performed full-body scans of her already. Theres very little to hide. That really doesnt help, Myalis, I muttered. Then her hand reached down between my legs and carefully ran down between my thighs. So dirty, she said. Lucy! I squeaked as she started to press her thumb in small circles around me. I forgot all about the cold seeping into my back, and the warm water running between us where our skin didnt meet. Lucy knew me, from well-earned experience and a few too many hours spent in closets, and in showers much smaller than this one, and just cuddling in bed. She knew which buttons to press, how to play with me with just a few strokes, and when to push in so that I ended up on the top of my toes, breath coming in raspy and hard. Climbing to my toes was a mistake, it brought her face closer to my chest. She pressed kisses down my clavicle and to my breasts, then latched on and started doing something with her tongue. I bit my lip until it hurt to stop from making any noise. Junior had once informed me, after a rather pleasant evening, that I was very loud, and since then Id always tried to keep a lid on it. Then Lucys hand sped up and I lost that battle with a throaty noise that set her to giggling. She stopped for a moment, bending almost in double as she tried to keep the laughter in. Lucy, I pleaded. Sorry, she said, but her smile suggested she was anything but. I fell back onto my feet and reached out towards her, intending to return the favour, when she pushed me back. I wasnt done, she said. Shower, a bit warmer. The water turned a notch hotter, enough that it started to hurt just a little, but then she did something with her thumb and fingers and I forgot all about that. I really do love you, she said a moment before a wave of heat shot through me and I felt myself shivering. Oh, getting close? I made a noise that I think sounded like a yes, or something akin to that. She started laying kisses around my neck and cheeks and then captured my mouth in hers while her hands kept on doing frankly magical things. A minute passed while our tongues slid past and around each other, and Lucys concentration around my core slipped a little as she focused on the kiss. I moved my hands around her, pulling her closer and bringing my real hand down to grab her ass. She gasped into my mouth, a sensation that stole my breath in the best way, then she returned the favour by tweaking something below that had me making another embarrassing noise. Faster? she asked. I hadnt said anything remotely like that, but she didnt seem to care. Her fingers moved faster, a lot faster, and I felt another wave of heat passing me by and making my abdominal muscles contract and my back want to bend. Lucy took that as some sort of challenge and started to push into me, stretching and rubbing while she peppered kisses across my upper chest. And then the dam burst, my legs wobbled and my abs contracted. I felt Lucys fingers squeezing together in me before she slid them out and left me feeling empty even as my head spun a bit. I might have fallen if she didnt hold me up and kiss me to within an inch of my life. Was it good? she asked with a knowing grin. Youre the best, I said between pants. The warmth was sinking away now, leaving in little shuddering waves. I might have been sweating, but there was no way to know with the water coming down around us. Ill have to return the favour, I said. I doubt you could manage, she said. Im the best after all. I kissed her again and wondered how long it would take for the water to run cold here. H-hey, Myalis? I asked. You remember mentioning that catalog, with the toys? Chapter Three - Post Coital Interruptions Chapter Three - Post Coital Interruptions Chapter Three - Post Coital Interruptions Do you know what kind of opportunity the average person has? Fuck all. If youre not born in the right family, have the right connections, and go to the right schools, youre pretty much stuck kissing the ass of anyone one rung above you on the ladder while hoping that theyll slip up badly enough that you can take their spot. Worse, your fortunes can turn in a blink. Spent ten years working your way up to middle management in your department? Too fucking bad, some shareholders decided that your entire division needs to be pruned out to meet some elusive goal or to make the curve on their graphs look a bit smoother. Good luck starting from the bottom again. Theres no one to blame but yourself for failing to read the room. --Anonymous Reddit User, June 2029 *** I couldnt decide how I was feeling. Parts of me that I didnt know could tingle were tingling, and I had sore muscles across my everything. Not a bad sore, but the sort from exercising a lot, which was probably fair. I decided, after a moments reflection, that what I was feeling could best be described as good. I was feeling really good. A giggle escaped, one that was soon echoed by the person laying down next to me. Lucy shifted a bit, then brought her head to rest on my stomach. That was...Th.e? most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m Yeah, I agreed as I continued to stare at the ceiling. Eventually I got enough energy to bring a hand down and started to brush it through Lucys hair, her very sweaty hair. I didnt know I could do that so many times, Lucy said. Yeah. Im sore. Yeah, I agreed. We werent alone on the bed. There was also a very rumpled and probably unsanitary pile of blankets and pillows spread around here and there, and more importantly there was a machine. It was a horrifying machine, like something out of some madwomans worst nightmares. It was eldritch and tentacled, and it looked wet and almost alive. It was the best hundred points I have ever spent, even if it had made me question my own sanity a few times. I wasnt even sure what time it was anymore. For all I knew a day could have passed. The details were certainly hazy enough. Shifting my hips a little, I got into a slightly more comfortable position where Lucys head didnt dig into my stomach quite so much. That was something, I said. It was, Lucy said. Think we can go at it again? The three groups all elected to talk at the same time, a cacophony of noise that I couldnt make heads or tails of. They seemed to catch on that if they all talked at once, they wouldnt be making much sense, but instead of taking their time they turned onto each other and started bickering between each other. It was like something out of a particularly unfunny comedy sketch. Okay, everyone shut up, I said. I was still getting used to the idea that people respected me, adults especially, but it was incredibly amusing to see adults snapping their mouths closed just because Id told them to. You, with the shades. Who are you? I pointed to the guy in the middle of the group in black suits, the one that looked in charge. Miss Leblanc, we are an organization charged with the protection of American assets. Upon seeing that you became a Samurai we thought it appropriate to inform you that, were you so willing, our organization could assist you in coming to your own an-- I stopped him with a raised hand. Just send me a fucking Email. Now who are you guys? I asked the next bunch. They all started talking over each other, and I could feel my post coital bliss draining away as they prattled on. One at a time, you fuckwits, I said. As it turned out, all of them were representatives of one corporation or another, each one of the eager and excited to sign me on and use my likeness to promote... everything from cereals to soft drugs and one sleezy guy said that they mostly dealt in deep fake pornography. Right, right Ive heard enough, please kindly fuck off. If I want something Ill contact you, not the other way around. Some of them started to protest, but Myalis, being the best, had my railgun slide out over my shoulder and it started making a deep ominous hum. And whore you lot? I asked the soldiers. Were representatives of the Canadian Armed Forces, maam, the one with the more elaborate medals said. Arent you guys a joke? I asked. No maam, he said without so much as twitching. Well, at least they were polite. And you want me to join up? Become private Leblanc? He shook his head. Nothing of the sort. We merely wished to both thank you for your efforts yesterday and extend an offer to you. If you ever wish to join the forces theres a place for you. We will send a recruitment package to your email address, if you wish. Real polite, I like it. You know what, sure, I said. I didnt intend to join, but their uniforms looked nice and I bet I could find use for one. Lucy did always say that she liked women in tight uniforms. They saluted my way and made for the exit, only to be blocked as someone shoved past them. I stared at the newcomer, initially pissed at the gall, then I recognized them, or rather, her. Deus Ex looked on the wrong side of tired, but her armour was impeccable and so clean it could have come fresh off the alien presses. She didnt have her whole hover system with her, probably because it wouldnt fit inside any normal building, but she did have a few things strapped to her hips that looked like they might be dangerous. Stray Cat, she said. We need to talk. *** Chapter Four - Mean Minion Mode Chapter Four - Mean Minion Mode Chapter Four - Mean Minion Mode To say that Samurai are dangerous would be a wild understatement. They arent truly beholden to any laws, corporate or governmental, they can act as they see fit, and they can do so with technology and tools that no normal force can match. They are only held accountable by their fellows. But most Samurai are at least somewhat mature. Theyre adults, with the responsibility and maturity that entails. Not all of them are so old. Many of them are young. What do you do with a teenager given unlimited power? Someone who has never been tempered by life and experience? Come, my flock, and let us pray for these lost souls! --John Johnathan Johns, Twitch priest, June 2034 *** Deus Ex was a meter and a half tall stack of contradictions. She stood with her back straight and her brow set in a glare, her hands rested on her hips and her lips formed a little line. She was trying very hard to be intimidating, but she looked more like a mildly annoyed puppy. I kind of wanted to pat her on the head to see what would happen. You two, go away, she said to the guys in black suits. She hadnt even looked at them. Maam, we are here on official business, one of them said. She slowly turned her head his way, then reached to the small of her back and pulled out a rounded, curved device that unmistakably had a handle and trigger mechanism on it. Will your life insurance cover damages to the building? she asked. Pardon? Because this weapon will go right through you, and then through the rest of this building. Will your life insurance cover the damages, or will I need to find out who you work for and empty their accounts directly? I use this hotel sometimes, I dont want them thinking Im a bad client that wont pay for damages and corpse removal. Um, the guy said. His whole stoic attitude was really getting tested. We can return later, he said. Please dont, I said. Send me an email or something instead. I dont do cryptic much. A few seconds later, Deus Ex and I were the only ones left in the entrance lobby area. I gestured with a nod towards the inside and started walking over to the couches before the television. Geett the latest novels at novelhall.com Were you injured? Deus Ex asked as she followed. Youre walking crooked. Im fine, I said before sitting down and leaning back. I was surprisingly tired. Maybe a nap would feel good once everything was done. So what brings you here? Wanted to bask in my presence some more? No, she said. The incursion is pretty much done with. All thats left is the sewer crawling, and Im not going to participate in any of that. Alright, I said. Couldnt blame her. Im actually here to give you some work. Alright, I said. So... like Longbow helping me? She nodded. Like big brother Longbow asking me to save your sorry ass, yeah. I snorted. Alright, but why? She actually seemed confused for a moment. Because otherwise idiots like you would die a lot more. We need every Samurai we can get. That sounded way too optimistic to be real, but she seemed to believe it. Alright. And this girls a Samurai? Maybe, Deus Ex said. Look. The screen filled with footage of a corridor. It was poorly lit, and the camera was fixed. No doubt some security system tucked away in a corner. A girl came around a bend, trailed by a dog, a big german shepherd. She looked nervous and sweaty, her brown and purple hair plastered to her face. The girl and the dog ran halfway down the corridor before a pair of Model Threes came around, the same. They were as I remembered them, big, dog-like, with bony bodies in matte black and triple hinged jaws opened wide. The girl stopped and raised a rifle. She called something out to her dog who had stopped too and who had placed itself between her and the Model Threes. She fired off a burst of strange red beams that tore the aliens apart, then she continued running with her dog by her heels. A fresh Samurai? I asked. The scene was pretty damned similar to my own initiation to the world of Samurai. We think so, Deus Ex said. But we dont know for sure. She was in a building on the very edge of the orange zone. Not too many Antithesis around there. She might just be a civilian that found an old Samurai gun. Cant you just ask your AI? Im afraid that we cant divulge information about other Vanguards. Ah, I said. Nevermind. I rubbed at my chin. So what happened to her and her dog? Deus Ex shrugged. Dont know. Honestly, I have better things to do. Uh. Why bring this all up then? I asked. Because someone needs to check up on her, she said. And youre not doing anything important. Im sorry, but what? I was doing plenty of very important things. Most of them are in bed with my girlfriend. Her nose scrunched up, then realization sparked in her eyes. Oh, eww. Thats gross. She bounced off the couch as if it had been contaminated or something. We hadnt even made it out of the room yet, I didnt see what had her so freaked out, but it was cute. Probably a good thing that Lucy wasnt around. She would be hugging Deus Ex by now. Cant you just track her electronically? I asked. We tried that, obviously, Deus Ex said. She was eyeing the furniture with suspicion. But it didnt work. She went dark. So we need to find her, or her corpse. Make sure no corporation gets to her. Why? I asked. The corpse bit, mostly. Because shes one of us, Deus Ex said as if that would explain everything. I guess that to her, it did. Chapter Five - Professionalism Chapter Five - Professionalism Chapter Five - Professionalism The importance of Samurai in our modern society cannot be overstated. In the 1900s there was a surge of popularity centered around celebrities, especially in the West. Movie stars, musicians, sports stars. They became the idols of their generations, faces and names known to all. After the initial incursions, some attention turned to the Samurai who had, seemingly, saved us all. That attention turned to idolization as the full scope of what they could do became known. That is why it is imperative Nimbletainment continues to be the predominant holder of the image rights of Samurai across North America.Geett the latest novels at novelhall.coment CEO during a company-wide brief. 2037 *** So, I said. How? What? Deus Ex asked. I gestured to the television where Katallinas face was still displayed. You want me to find that girl, right? How? Deus shrugged. I dont know. You figure it out. Itll be like a test or something. Or something, I repeated, deadpan. I gave her my flattest look. Youre real professional, arent you? The girl bristled at that, sitting straighter in her seat and glaring right back at me before her face twisted to neutrality. Fine, she said. If you need someone to baby you, I can take some of my precious time to help you. I snorted. Maybe that would have tweaked the pride of someone who hadnt had my stellar upbringing, but it did nothing for me. The kittens regularly came up with better insults. So how do you expect me to find her? Better yet, how would you do it? She rolled her eyes. Ill give you a packet with her info. The moment she said that, I got a ping in my vision, an email. I blinked a few times to open it, then noticed that I had five digits worth of unread emails. Damn, how come my email hasnt blown up yet? It was a good thing I was using one of the free email services. Some charged a fee for every email. Those usually had all sorts of encryptions and stuff, and they claimed not to sell your messages to advertisers, but I never got anything important enough to warrant that. I might have had something to do with that. You receive a lot of spam. And viruses. Also, images of genitals. The news that youve become a Vanguard isnt widely circulated yet, but some people have connected the dots. I winced. Just delete all the nasty ones... well, keep the nudes if theyre tasteful. No. The afternoon was turning really sour, especially compared to the morning. I opened Deus Exs email, then stared at an image of Deus Ex giving me the finger before a plain background. Uh. Oh. The information is all in the image. Its stored in the images pixelation, with different colour values representing different bits in hex. The sequence to read these is randomized with the code to decipher the randomization written as a multiplication of the images resolution. Once the actual code is parsed, you need only de-encrypt it. Its a bit simple, and Ive no doubt that even some humans could figure it out given a few hours, but for non-sensitive information it will do. Uh, I said. You know, talking to your AI out loud is generally a sign that youre really new, Deus Ex said. That might be because I am new, I said. Besides, its impossible to snark through text. Ohh, Ill only get to hear half the conversation then, Lucy said. I guess so. That is easily remedied. One moment. I wondered what she was up to, then Dumbass the First skittered its way into the livingroom and hopped onto one of the sofas. It wiggled around to face us, then lowered itself down. Greetings, the drone said in Myalis voice. It was a little strange hearing her out loud. Hi Myalis! Lucy said with a wave. Im still physically within Catherines skull, Im merely using the drone as a mouthpiece, Myalis explained. Nonetheless, its a pleasure to speak with you through a more reliable method than Catherines abysmal communication skills. Hey! She is really bad sometimes, Lucy agreed. Its all threats, and cute little grunts. H-hey! this time my ire was directed at the girl on my lap. Myalis bobbed up and down. Youre both awful, I said. Then Lucy gave me a conciliatory peck on the cheek and I settled in to just pouting until they stopped teasing me. This mission, if we can call it that, is rather simple in its objective, but I suspect that carrying it out will be a great deal more complicated, Myalis said. Evidence of Katalina''s disappearance will be time sensitive. Tracking her down might also be difficult. So youre saying we should head out sooner rather than later? I asked. Essentially, yes. I really didnt want to leave. I was comfortable, with Lucys bony behind digging into my thighs and my arms wrapped around her waist. Leaving was the last thing I wanted to do. Whos Katallina? Lucy asked. Shes a girl that went missing. She might be a Samurai, maybe. Deus Ex wants me to track her down, make sure shes alright, I explained. Oh. That does sound kind of important, Lucy said. Mmm, I guess. I sank into Lucy a bit. I should probably take off. The faster I find this girl the sooner I can return. Lucy pressed a kiss on my cheek. Ill be waiting here, she said. I smiled. I know. Ill leave the Dumbasses here, to keep an eye on the kittens. That would be nice. I bet Myalis is a great babysitter. I regret informing you of my ability to communicate, Myalis said. *** Chapter Six - Armour Up Chapter Six - Armour Up Chapter Six - Armour Up We spend a lot of time romanticizing the Samurai as a person of action and power, but this image is almost always framed with an incursion as the backdrop. The Samurai are saving civilians and killing aliens, averting, sometimes single-handedly, the sort of natural disaster that no government or corporation could tackle on their own without massive losses. When there isnt an active incursion, we see the Samurai as laid back celebrities, or pioneers pushing for radical new ideas. But what about those other times? The times when theyre not in the limelight? The International Enquirer is there for you at those times! 24/7 coverage of all of your favourite Samurai, delivered in a bi-daily format for the low low subscription price of 350 credits a month! --The International Enquirer ad, June 2031 *** I looked at the image on the television one last time before sighing and poking Lucy in the sides. Lucy, I need to get up, I said. Aww, but Im comfy, she complained. I chuckled. Youre not the one with a bony butt digging into your lap, I said. She gasped and half turned to face me. My ass is not bony. Its practically nothing but bone, I said. Lucy jabbed an elbow into my gut, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a message. Keep talking about it like that, and well see if you get to play with it any time soon, she said as she hopped to her feet. Laughing, I accepted the hand she extended to help me up. Maybe I wont let you touch mine then, I said. She shook her head. Nope. That ass is mine. I pulled her into a hug. Not a sexy hug, just a comforting press of two bodies together, holding her close so I could feel the tickle of breath against my neck and the hummingbird beat of her heart. Youll be back? she asked. Always, I said. I just need to go out and act the hero for a bit. She nodded. Alright. Can you be safe? I can try, I said. That was the best I could do. Id never been out on Samurai business before, or whatever theyd call going out to track some girl, but I had the impression that it wasnt exactly the safest thing to do. Youre going to get changed? Lucy asked. I looked down at myself, at my very dirty pants and lack of a proper shirt. I should. Ive been thinking of buying some sort of armour too. Might as well do that now, before heading out. Maybe a few other things. Can I see? Lucy asked. I couldnt help but grin. Sure. I huffed. Black is always in fashion, I said. Plus Im supposed to be stealthy. Youd probably want it to be pink or something. Black, or maybe that dark blue like some of my other gear. A mix of both, perhaps. There are some complex parts to the suit, Myalis said. As long as by both you mean black and blue, then yeah, sure. Lets go with that. New Purchase: Mark IV TIGER-B armour Points Reduced to... 8512! A box appeared next to Lucy on the bed. I stepped out of my pants, leaving me in not much at all except for my underthings, and moved over to the case. Inside, I found a large belt and a few weird bracelets and something that looked like a very large necklace. All of them were big and bulky, and rather heavy when lifted. Uh? Put them on. The suit will assemble itself over your body. Cool! Lucy said. I had to agree, the belt was little more than a series of linked boxes with a clasp by the front. The bracers went over my arms in a similar way, as did the sections over my ankles. The necklace, quite a bit heavier, sat a bit awkwardly around my neck. With the last piece on, the whole set buzzed. In the time it took to blink, plates of some bluish metal unfolded across my body and a cloth-like weave raced across my skin, then pulled taut. Nice! Lucy said. She clapped a bit. You look awesome! I stared down at myself, and kinda had to agree. The armour clung, a bit tight and form-fitting, with plates following my ribs and covering my chest and upper arms. Armoured sections covered my elbows and knees too, which would probably come in handy. The cloth had a few sharp lines done up in dark blue, giving it some contrast over the darker material. Oh man, thats tight, Lucy said as she reached out and ran a hand over my stomach. The material was pretty tight there, I could actually make out the dip of my belly button through the material. Is this actually bulletproof? I asked. We could test it, Myalis said. Give Lucy a gun. Ohh, Lucy said. I shut that down quickly enough. Yeah, no, Ill take your word for it, I said. I like the way it makes your butt look, Lucy said with a thumbs up. I snorted and made a mental note to look into a mirror later. It already looked good, I said. Lucy nodded. Your best asset, she said before breaking off into peels of giggles. I shook my head and reached down to pick up my auto-loader jacket. It would be just that much more cover. As cool as the armour looked, it was a bit... skin-tight. I was far from self-conscious, but still. You should perhaps invest in a few other things before heading out, Myalis said. Your armament seems appropriate for the likely level of threat youre going to face, but youre lacking in other areas. Your sensor packages are visual only so far, and not that terribly advanced. And you need to look even cooler, Lucy said. And a bit more colourful. Like... a scarf or something. I sighed. Alright, we can do a tiny bit more shopping, I said. Chapter Seven - Lending an Ear Chapter Seven - Lending an Ear Chapter Seven - Lending an Ear Each Samurais personal appearance is, technically, owned by the Samurai in question. That is why it is strongly advised that, when you begin to sell clothes that imitate their look, you do so through the intermediary of at least three shell companies. This will inevitably mean a large loss in profits, but it also serves as a method to keep your company safe. Even with the great losses, copying Samurai fashion is wildly profitable. The moment a Samurai comes out in public, their looks, their colour scheme, their style and mannerisn become iconic. Some change their appearance on a nearly-weekly basis, others keep to a certain look and style for months or years until their equipment changes. As long as the Samurai never decides to question you, then you can expect to make a tidy profit. --Brian Jacques, CFO of the Coco-Gucci-Vouton Fashion Consortium, 2051 *** I picked up my invisibility jacket, shook it once or twice to get the gunk off of it, then sighed. One sec, I said before heading over to the bathroom. The shower, a place that had recently climbed to my personal top ten, became host to my jacket which I flopped to the ground. Shower, on, I said. When I returned to the bedroom, the shower still running behind me, it was to find Lucy cradling Dumbass the First on her lap and patting its head. The robot had turned on its hologram projector again, making it look like a rather smug tabby cat, though the illusion did break where Lucys hand touched it. Okay, so things to buy, I said. The cat nodded. Indeed. As I mentioned a moment ago, I believe your next investment should be a sensor suite. And what would that entail? I asked. Oh, entail, Lucy repeated. Big words, Cat. I stuck my tongue out at her. I can use more complicated words too, you know. Really? This morning you seemed to have a hard time articulating anything more complicated than baby seal noises. I felt my cheeks warming and turned my focus back onto Dumbass the First. Sensor suites, I said. I would suggest a Sun Watcher Twin Ear system. Its a bit intrusive, connecting to your auditory cortex, but its uses are quite interesting. The Twin Ear comes equipped with ultrasound, laser microphones for hearing at long distances, a geiger counter, thermal sensor, radial sonar and motion sensors, selective sound filters, spatial recognizers. It even has a balance-assist system, and long-range wireless communications. Alright, that sounds pretty cool, I said. How much? Seventy-five points. The installation requires that your head be uncovered, Myalis said. You may feel a slight tingle atop your skull. I weighed the options back and forth for a bit. I didnt feel that more sensory stuff was pressing, exactly, but on the other hand, it was probably something similar to armour. I didnt need it until I did, and then it might be too late to ask for it. Alright, lets do it, I said. New Purchase: Mark III Twin Ears ... Perhaps. But these are the most amusing. Myalis, Lucy said with the same warning tone Id heard her use so often on the kittens. Cat is a very sensitive soul. You need to be careful with her. Shes all soft and gooey under that hard outside. I glared at the shower. I wasnt sensitive. I am aware, Myalis said. Perhaps I can tone it down a little. Though it is still greatly amusing to embarrass her. It really is, Lucy agreed. Oh, speaking of, do you have scarves? Yes. I grabbed my jacket from the shower, waved it around a bit to push off some of the last drops still clinging to it, then barged back into the bedroom. Whats this about scarves? I asked. There were about two dozen of them hovering around Dumbass the First. Holograms, obviously. Lucy smiled at me, then gestured to all of the cloth around her. This makes buying clothes a lot easier, she said. We could never afford clothes, I pointed out. You can now, she said with a shit eating grin. I crossed my arms. What makes you think Id buy clothes for you? I asked. I bet Myalis can get some really comfortable lingerie, Lucy mused. Internally, I cursed Deus Ex for giving me a stupid mission that would drag me away for so much as an hour. M-maybe later, I said. I think this one, but in pink, like the colour around her arm, Lucy said as she gestured to one of the scarves. Really? I asked. Its one point, Lucy defended herself. I rolled my eyes. Fine. New Purchase: Plain Cloth Scarf Points Reduced to... 8436! The packet with the scarf appeared next to Lucy, and she was quick to open it. Ohh, silky, she said as she got to her feet, Dumbass scurrying off her lap in a hurry. She placed the scarf around my neck, then used it to pull me into a kiss. Come back safe, alright? she asked. I leaned into a second kiss. I will, I said. The Dumbasses will stay here, just in case. She nodded, then turned me towards the door before giving my rear a smack I barely felt. Go be a hero, she said. *** Chapter Eight - Hover Chapter Eight - Hover Chapter Eight - Hover The great selling point of hovercraft was the lowered traffic. That was, until someone realized that a complete lack of oversight was an absolute disaster. So the bureaucrats came in. They set height and speed limits, created avenues and aerial roads. They created new departments specifically to regulate traffic in the air, then commissioned new companies to act as police forces. New permissions had to be handed out to EMTs and police and paramilitaries so that they could use the roads too. Soon, the air roads became just as clogged and congested as those on the ground. New roads were added atop them, ones that required special permits, or that were policed by private corporations that purchased the airspace and sold traffic rights for an exorbitant price. Now a businessman can get across the city in mere minutes, while the middle class wait in traffic, and the poor have to contend with the ultra-violence of the ground and what few public transit systems that are still in place. Our stratified society became far more literal. --Alex Begler, The New Air Race, 2034 *** I stepped out of the penthouse while adjusting my new scarf. A scarf shouldnt have worked to tie together my rather eclectic outfit, but somehow it did. It probably helped that just about everything was a mix of the same three or so colours. It made matching things easy. I moved past a cleaning android and towards the elevators while adjusting Whisper over my back. I wasnt expecting to find two guys in the hotels livery standing by the elevator doors. Whatre you guys doing here? I asked. They looked at each other, then one cleared his throat. Were with the hotels security, maam. Just making sure there are no more intrusions like this morning. Huh, I said. Well, thats nice. People doing nice things for me just because? That was going to take some getting used to. Ive called the elevator up. Well have to find a way to get to Katallinas last known location. Its not within walking distance, and I suspect that there will be some barriers along the way. I nodded, not wanting to make a fool of myself before the guards. The elevator rose, clearly audible thanks to my new ears, and I stepped into it before turning around to face the exit. A moment or two after the doors closed, I heard one of the hotel guys muttering to his friend. Shes scary. Scary but kinda hot, the other said. I rolled my eyes as we started to descend. Where was she last seen? I asked Myalis. I nodded as he pulled up a tablet and pressed a few buttons. One of the dispensers rumbled up, cars flashing by as they rotated past, then a small yellow hovercar drove off the system and floated its way over to us. The valet and I both stared at the little yellow clown car. I... can order up something, um, better, he said. Its self-driving? I asked as I looked inside. It had two pairs of two seats, both facing the middle where a little table sat. No controls that I could see. Itll do, I said. I wasnt looking for anything fancy anyway. The boy (who was probably older than me, but he had a spine like a wet towel) opened the back door for me. I tossed Whisper in, then contorted myself into the seat. Thanks, I said before he shut the door. I had to shift to accomodate my tail a bit, but it wasnt so bad. Now... how does this work? You have no public record of using one of these that I can find. Its meant to connect to your augmentations, then drive safely and securely over to a destination you specify. The cost is extracted from your credit account based on mileage, plus service fees, membership fees, special fees, local taxes, and a few other price gouging techniques. Uh huh, I said. I spent most of my credits on a sandwich yesterday, I said. Your purchase was reimbursed, actually. Your current total would... not cover the re-parking fee. Thats... annoying. Ive hacked into the vehicles controls. Or rather, I did so before you stepped out of the hotel. My eyes narrowed. Are you the reason Im in this tiny thing? Were taking off now. You didnt answer the question, Myalis! I said. Any further conversation was cut off when the hover car took off with a lurch, cut off some fancy car, then shot out into the sky. There were roads, with plenty of midday traffic flitting through the smoke let out by smokestacks and the low-hanging smog clouds that were drizzling down a haze of rain that smacked the cars windows, but Myalis didnt seem to care about such trivialities. We didnt merge into the traffic flows, or slide into one of the far more expensive express routes. Instead Myalis shot out across the city at a diagonal. This cant be legal, I said. It isnt. Uh, I said. Its not as though traffic laws apply to us. Most traffic enforcement vehicles ping off of any law-breaking hover cars onboard computer to make it come to a stop. I can merely tell them that this vehicle has been commandeered by a Vanguard. And whats stopping anyone else from doing the same thing? I asked. Superior coding. That, and on occasion traffic police will nonetheless chase down a Vanguards vehicle. It usually ends in disaster. In this case though, our flight plan is bringing us directly into a semi-active incursion zone. Theres nothing for them to worry about. I settled into my seat, one foot pressing against the table in the middle to keep my in place. Nothing to worry about, I repeated as I worried. Chapter Nine - Twitchy Chapter Nine - Twitchy Chapter Nine - Twitchy In this three-part summary, we will explain the historical precedent for the fall of global powers after the first Incursion. There were three, arguably four, major economic and military powerhouse nations on Earth. The United States of America, Russia, China, and by some reckonings, Germany. By 2030, the three most powerful of these nations no longer existed in a form people prior to 2020 would recognize. The fall of the United States was rather abrupt for some, though others had predicted it for some time. The nation, after years of turmoil, broke apart and might have fallen into civil war if not for the intervention of some key players. The reversal of Roe v. Wade, the increased power of increasingly-religious authorities in some regions, the crash of the federal economy, increased tensions between growing minorities and the police, and the rise of a third corporate party, all hastened the demise of a once powerful nation into a mess of nation-states with their own laws and regulations and animosities. --A History After the Drop, Online Lecture by Professor Sterne *** The amount of traffic on the immediate edge of the incursion zone was surprising. I expected people to keep away, but might have been giving them too much credit. Not that it truly mattered. We shot right past an aerial barricade manned by a few police chasers and deeper into the city without so much as twitching. I saw a cops head snap around, but no one followed us, so I figured we were safe. It was eerie flying through a city with no cars moving around at a snails pace, the lights in most towers completely off, and the smog layer above broken in a few places to reveal the sky above. I found myself taking things in through the rainbow-wet sheen of the windscreen. We werent moving towards the centre of the incursion zone, but rather skirting along the edge. Right over here. The little taxi started to slow down while rising up. Floors flashed by, and huge unlit billboards for healthcare insurance and the newest shoes moved by until we levelled off and turned into an open parking garage. The place was only lit by a few dozen red emergency lights, enough to make out a lack of parked cars and a whole lot of empty space. Myalis parked in the middle of the lot, coming down with a faint lurch before the hovercars engines whined to a stop.Re?a?d new chapters at novelhall.com This is it? I asked. The door next to me opened with a hiss. Yes. This is the place. Our subject was last seen two floors down. I stepped out, pulled Whisper along behind me, then looked about for anything interesting. I could hear all sorts of things. Metal ticking, the patter of the rain outside, the humming of some ventilation systems and old neon lights. Nothing that sounded alien, or alive. Who the fuck are you? I asked. Youre trespassing on corporate territory! someone else called out. Come out with your hands in the air and all weapons dropped. All goods on your person are forfeit. Prepare yourself for fines and imprisonment! From what I can tell, the NMSR is a group of post-incursion scavengers. They are here legally. Wonderful, I said. Theyve been emptying peoples houses? That is what they do. Alright, I said. Im coming out. If I see any of you with a gun pointing my way, youre dead. Ive got some new weapons I havent tested out yet. You dont want to play guinea pig. Myalis got the hint, because my shoulder-mounted guns unfolded and came to a rest beside my head. The railgun to one side, plasma caster on the other. Threatening us wont do anything. Come on out right now! I could hear them moving around, placing the cart between us and bringing guns to bear. Myalis, can you send them a nice warning? With pleasure. There was a long moment of silence, only faster heartbeats filling it. Oh, fuck, one of them whispered. I turned around and waved out the side with my mechanical arm. Hey guys, how about you lower those and we wont have ourselves a mess? I asked. Im sure your insurance premiums would be much lower if you dont add a suicide by Samurai on it. It could be fake, One of them whispered. It isnt, I said. I could tell most of them had lowered their guns thanks to my weird ass echo-vision so I carefully moved out of cover, arms lowering so both hands wrapped around the handle of my Trench Maker. Six pairs of eyes locked onto me. They didnt seem all that enthused about the guns around my shoulders. So, which one of you just tried to shoot me? I asked. Five of them glanced at the weediest guy in the lot who was shaking his head like a kitten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Yeah, next time maybe, you know, dont just shoot random people? I asked. Are, are you a Samurai? One of them asked. Yeah. Im here investigating something, and now, I said with a growing smile. I have all of you to help me! *** Chapter Ten - More Questions than Answers Chapter Ten - More Questions than Answers Chapter Ten - More Questions than Answers By 2020, China was well on its way to becoming the worlds second superpower. By 2025, the country was in turmoil, plagued by economic instability (much of it caused by a global recession where many countries simply stopped importing goods), social unrest, and a growing feud between the ruling party and the few Samurai in the country. Most major shifts in global affairs past 2020 can be linked in one way or another to a Samurai, or a group of them, but Chinas near-collapse is the most obvious of these. In 2022, an incursion appeared over Fujian. The reaction of the government was, surprisingly, positive. By then many other global powers had their own Samurai, and China was looking forward to obtaining its own. The incursion went poorly, with the first mass appearance of Model Sevens. Someone, and it is still unknown who was responsible, authorized the use of low-yield nuclear weapons over the province. It secured a victory, but at the cost of nearly all local Samurai. In the following year, another pair of incursions appeared over the area: in Taiwan, and near Hong Kong. The Samurai born from these did not share an enthusiastic relationship with the Chinese government. By 2030, the area was governed by three countries, two of which were, and still are, under the protection of local Samurai warlords. The Democratic Republic of Hong Kong, the Independent Republic of Taiwan, and the Peoples Republic of China. --A History After the Drop, Online Lecture by Professor Sterne *** I grinned at all the workers. Wheres your manager? I asked. It took all of a minute for some sweaty middle-aged woman to jog over to meet me in the same corridor Id almost been shot in. H-hello, she said as she caught her breath. How can I help? Well, first, you can explain whats going on here, I said with a gesture to the workers behind her. Theyd stopped breaking into apartments and emptying them to stare at our little spectacle. Were checking the area for xenos, maam, the manager said. I stared at her, then at the cart laden with computers and televisions and tablets. Have the aliens been disguising themselves as PCs while I wasnt paying attention? I asked. The woman straightened. Its within our charter to recover any valuables left in the area. Uh-huh, I said. Youre not even tagging them or anything. Theres no way that someone that lives here will be able to tell their stuff apart from anyone elses. There are ways to recoup any lost belongings, the woman said. She didnt look comfortable saying it, and it only took a second of meeting her eyes to communicate that we both knew how full of shit she was. You guys can leave the rest of the stuff where it is, I said. And leave the cart too. She hesitated. I could almost see the math working itself out behind her eyes. She was no doubt going to be losing a lot of credit with this, but I found myself with few fucks to give. I, of course, well clear out right away. Good. Now, Im looking for someone. Myalis, can you send her a photo? Of course. Consider it sent. The manager shook her head. Never seen her. One moment. She had me nervous for a moment as she reached into a big pocket, but it was only to retrieve a tablet. Soon she was clicking through images. Faces, some bloody, others not. Most with their eyes closed, and all obviously dead. Whats that? I asked. One of our duties here is clearing out the dead. There arent usually that many, but some xenos did make it over here. I nodded. Id seen as much with what little footage of Katallina Id seen. You keep a catalogue of the dead? I asked. She nodded absently while still scrolling past pictures. The dead, and their IDs if we can find them. I cant find anyone fitting the bill. The only person that looks about the right age is this boy. I found myself before a shitty old desk with a pair of dusty screens before it. There was a minifridge in the corner, and an ashtray overflowing with used filters. Sitting down, I turned to the screens, then, realizing I knew nothing about what had to be done, turned to the fridge instead. There was a small bounty of energy drinks in there. Youre really working hard on this mission, arent you? I kicked back, legs crossing atop the desk as I examined two cans. One was Hyper Sucrose Extreme!, a special edition can with some anime figure on it. It had to be an import because the can didnt have any nutritional information other than fuckloads of sugah! written in small text at the bottom. The other choice was some Boomerade. It had some silver-haired Samurai on its side giving me a thumbs up and occasionally winking. I stuck to the can with the anime girl on it. She was less creepy. A sip and a full-body shiver later, and I gestured to the screens. Have you found anything? I asked. Myalis response was a long suffering sigh. The screens came on, and I got to see the same video of Katallina running, though now from two angles. Do we have anything earlier? I asked. All the cameras in the other areas of the building are defective and have been for some time. Maintenance logs claim that they were taken care of, but the evidence suggests otherwise. Theres more. The footage sped ahead, changing angles every so often as Myalis changed cameras. I got to see the girl running, tears streaming from her eyes. The gun she had was definitely high-tech, more so than the raggedy clothes she had on. Her dog barked on camera, and jumped at a Model Three that was charging at her. I was nervous for a bit, until she gunned the alien down and called her dog back to her side. She seemed to be making good time across the building, no doubt racking up a few points as she went down one staircase, then another, meeting more aliens as she went. No stopping for new gear, not even when she paused to replace the magazine in her gun with one from a back pocket. Too nervous? In too much of a hurry? Maybe the adrenaline was in the way. This one is from this floor. The next bit was very familiar. Katallina running with her dog at her heels, Model Threes coming out behind her in chase. And then she ran into a group of three men in black uniforms. Full-face masks, armored padding, all in pitch black. They gunned the aliens down, then moved up to Kattallina who looked surprised for a moment. I couldnt blame her. She smiled, hope breaking through the tears at last, and pointed to something behind her. Then one of the men grabbed her and tossed her to the floor. The dog was kicked aside. Something was sprayed in her face, and she fought for a bit before going limp. They tied her up, then did the same to her dog, knocking it out and tying its paws together with straps. My feet dropped from the desk. What the fuck, I said. That is certainly the right question to ask. *** Chapter Eleven - Nobodies Chapter Eleven - Nobodies Chapter Eleven - Nobodies Pre-2020 Russia was a military powerhouse with some economic issues and a growing sense of discontent in its lower classes. Russia post 2030 is a military powerhouse with some economic issues and a growing sense of discontent in its lower classes. Interestingly enough, despite being hit with the most incursions of any single country, Russia has changed few of its policies and methodology over the years. Its Samurai are generally worshipped and idolized as national heroes, and are given a fair amount of leniency and power in the nation as long as they dont cross certain lines. Its government is as corrupt and bribable as it has ever been, and a host of narcotics have joined alcohol in poisoning the downtrodden. It cant be said that the nation has prospered, but it has grown far more populous and despite some repeated disasters, has managed to cling onto its power through turbulent times. Its borders are the same, but the population has become hyper-concentrated around a few massive cities. Its military still uses machinery and equipment dating back to the last century, but they outnumber any other nations man-for-man. --A History After the Drop, Online Lecture by Professor Sterne *** Myalis, being the awesome AI that she was, tracked the movement of our men in black through the entire building. They had a pair of hover vans parked up on the same level I had parked at. Just a couple of small unmarked vehicles that slid in and waited while the other hovercar owners rushed out of the building in a hurry. We were able to spot them moving down a few floors, always using the stairs, always ducking out of peoples way without ever actually saying anything. They had arrived within forty-five minutes of the incursion starting, and had reached Kattallina by the one hour mark. Five minutes later they were back in their vans and taking off to parts unknown. I looked at the images Myalis had picked out on the screens, one of each of the guys in black. There were two teams of four. Kattalina had run into one of them, the other had retreated right after. I could tell that some of them were women under the armour, but other than distinguishing superficial genders I couldnt tell anything about them.UppTodated from No skin showed, no hair, they wore darkened visors that hid their eyes, masks over their lower faces, and each camera they passed fizzed out and died soon after they appeared. Both teams had one member that wasnt as well armed as the others, a person with a large backpack with antenna sticking out of the top, along with obvious vents cut into the fabric. Judging by the glow behind their visors, and the stuttery way they moved, they were jacked into something. The teams tech specialist, maybe? I cant see any logos, I said after eyeing the still a bit more. None are present. Im running their equipment through a list of manufactured goods. Most of it is standard issue for a few different paramilitary organizations, but none have their entire setup. I shook my head. Can you go over that again? Their boots, for example, are used by six paramilitary organizations in North America. Their guns are used by eight. Their helmets by four. None of them are all used by the same group. Their equipment borrows pieces from many companies, but not from one single organization. Were they doing like the orphanage and raising some second hand mercenary store? What about their vans? Rentals, from what I cane tell. From a local distributor, under a false name. All tags were removed, but one of the cameras by the entrance was able to see the serial printed on the corner of a windshield. Images moved around until I could make out a zoomed-in image of a window reflecting a finger-width serial code. Nice, I said. Does it point us in any useful direction? Unfortunately, no. I cant trace the credit information used. The bank they used to pay is secure enough that it would require more than a mere internet connection for me to slip past. I saw Longbow looking off to the side, little screens opening in the air before him then winking out. Nope, dont recognize them. Which is probably what theyre going for. Yeah. I need help tracking them down. Using the citys cameras? he asked. I could probably do that, but there might be a faster way. You ever hear of Dial-up? You mean, like before fiber internet? I asked. The one with the noises? Longbow barked a laugh. Your age is showing. Right, so Dial-Up and Lag are this pair of Samurai that basically live online, theyre jacked in at all times. No sleeping, nothing. That sounds healthy, I said. They invested a load of points into getting their brains jarred, he said. I imagined that for a second. Why? And how would they fight off an incursion while in a jar? They have tanks, Longbow said. The jars are in them. Its pretty cool. If... you say so, I said. Theyre pretty much the end-all be-all of information brokerage online. Go give them a visit. Theyll probably not charge you if its for helping another little sister. Probably wont help you IRL, but what can you do? Im sending your Myalis the links to get to their place in Meshspace. If you need, like, a drone strike later, give me a call. Ive got a dragon to kill. He waved me off, and I found myself staring at a wall with a poster of some woman wearing very little slapped over a server rack. O-kay, I said. Ive received the coordinates to Dial-up and Lag. Can you call them? One moment.... No. Uh, no? From what I can tell at a glance, there arent any direct traces of them online. All links end with a packet entering your cyber warfare system that politely informs you to stop looking. This includes Google searches. Its actually impressive. That doesnt sound subtle. I dont think its meant to be. So, we need to go see them in Meshspace. This is starting to feel like a shitty fetch quest, I said. You might have to get off your no-doubt comfortable seat and actually do some amount of work. How unfortunate. I let out a sigh, chugged the last of my energy drink, then left it on the desk. Someone could cash it in for a chit theyd be able to exchange for another drink... if they collected a hundred. Lets go back to the hotel, I said. If were going to dive online, itll be at home. Maybe I can use Lucy as a body pillow while I dive. Your mind is a bizarre and terrifying place. Chapter Twelve - Doorframe Chapter Twelve - Doorframe Chapter Twelve - Doorframe The internet has existed in one form or another since the 1980s. Even before that, though that far back its practically unrecognizable to what people now think of as the internet. Meshspace, a creation started by a small group of Samurai with the backing of IBM and Microsoft, was meant to be the next step in the evolution of the internet. A place where people who were jacked in (that is, connected directly into the mesh via neural augmentations) could communicate, play, create, and express themselves. Within a month, it was a hive of advertisments and pornography. There have been major steps taken to police and regulate Meshspace, but as with the original (and still extant) internet, these have been met with ridicule or outright ignored. Now, the Mesh is a world of advertising, pornography, and vice. Truly an improvement. --Extract from A History of the Mesh. 2048Th.e? most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m *** Myalis parked our little taxi right in the middle of the driveway of the hotel and opened the door with a whoosh of expelled air. I stepped out and stretched a bit while glancing around. Id left the last place in a bit of a hurry, only pausing long enough to make sure the scavengers had left all the shit that wasnt theirs behind. It would probably make the few people on that one floor happy. The only other thing I did was placing a digital warning at the door to Katallina McCarthys little apartment. She shared a one-room apartment with her mother apparently, a mother that Myalis was able to confirm as dead. Anyone stopping by her place would get a pre-recorded message politely asking them to contact me, and then a pre-recorded threat that if they fucked with the place, Id be contacting them. Making threats was turning out to be a whole lot of fun. It was kind of cathartic. At the same time I was a tiny bit worried I might become an asshole... more of an asshole. I walked past a group of valets by the door, only acknowledging them with a wave before I was in the hotel. The moment I stepped in, about six different people from all over the lobby perked up and turned my way. Had it been only the one I might not have so much as noticed, but out of the fifty-odd people going about their business, six was just too many. Myalis, trouble. I felt the guns on my back shifting. Not deploying just yet, but certainly getting ready to. I started towards the elevators, taking a circuitous route around part of the building where Id pass some partial cover behind glass-walled terrariums with some no-doubt exotic weeds within. The first of them cornered me just past that. His opening salvo came in the form of a bright, startlingly fake smile. Hello miss! Im a representative of Nimbletainment Inc, and I think I have just the deal for you! It took half a second for that to register. Are you suicidal? I asked, dumbfounded. His smile never so much as twitched. Im a retail salesman maam, the answer to that question is a resounding yes. And I hope that your answer will be a yes too, but to an entirely different question! Did you know that Nimbletainment has a sponsorship program, exclusively for Samurai? Uh, no. I said. Im leaving now, and... get help? Elsewhere. Please? I circled around him, then jogged a bit to make it to the elevator. I think a few of them had the clever idea of joining me in a small, enclosed space for an indeterminate amount of time, because they started jogging too. Went well enough. I have a lead to follow, so Im not quite done. Wheres Daniel? Daniel? she asked. Then Lucy gasped quite dramatically. Did you misplace all your gayness and now you need a man in your life? I rolled my eyes. Youre an idiot, I said. I need to do a thing online. Figured he could help. Hes in the second living room, she said. Want anything to drink? I shrugged, accepted a can of some low-calorie crap that was no doubt subtle revenge for that fat joke, and then followed Lucy. Why does this place have two living rooms? I asked. I dont know, and I never want to leave, Lucy said. Oh, look, no crutches. She skipped ahead for all of two bounces, then slowed down with a huff so that I could catch up. She then used me as a two-legged crutch, confirming once and for all that all those times she hung off me before really were just disguised cuddling. You need to work on that some more, I said. Im going to learn how to strut, she said. And wear heels. Sexy heels that youll buy for me, then take off. Uh huh, I said. I was more than willing to hear all about the heels Id apparently be buying her. We stepped into a smaller but still stupidly lavish living room to find Daniel on his back on one sofa, a bloody pile of toilet paper next to him and a cloth pressed to his face. He groaned as he strained his neck to look my way. Oh. Hey. Hey, I said. So what happened to you? Walkings hard, he said. Its not fair. You see the Kittens running all over the damned place. Never stopping. Little shits making it look easy. Daniels been rediscovering his long lost relationship with gravity, Lucy said. Daniel made a noise that could have meant anything. Right, I said. And all the blood? Doorframe, he said. I nodded. I need your help with a thing. Does it involve walking? he asked. No. Im your man, he said. What do you need? I need to get into the Mesh to visit some folk. You couldnt have come to a better place. Now go get my shit from my room because theres no way Im getting off this couch. *** Chapter Thirteen - I Have Paws Chapter Thirteen - I Have Paws Chapter Thirteen - I Have Paws The Mesh is love. The Mesh is life. You dont need a real body, you dont need to feel pain, you dont need to worry, not when youre in the Mesh. Its the perfect world, where everything is, at its base, truly fair. Everything you could possibly want is a twitch away. Is it any wonder those of us who live by this oasis dont want to leave our little matrix of friends and foes? --Anonymous Mesh user, 2049 *** So, there are two ways to dive into the Mesh, Daniel said as he sat up and bunched his legs beneath him awkwardly. Yeah, I know, I said. No, you dont, he countered. Now shut up and listen to daddy Daniel. I blinked from my spot on one of the fancy reclining couches across from him. It was a big seat, made for one person to lounge back in, and with a load of controls for positioning and such in the arm. Lucy, of course, was currently crushing me with her bony behind while playing with my mechanical arms fingers. My other arm was wrapped snugly across her waist. Daniel, the day I call you daddy is the day you die. Of like, pleasure? he asked. I could buy a taser, I mused. "Maybe some sort of automatic whip that hears people talking shit and just slaps them for it? Oh, fuck off, Daniel said. Fine, no need to call me daddy. Maybe Big D? Ive seen you naked, I pointed out. Its horrific, and anything but big. You wound me, he said. I could find someone else to show me this shit you know? I asked. Daniel grinned back. Fine. So like I was saying before you threw a snit over my nicknaming choices, there are two kinds of dives in the Mesh. This shits not the internet where youre just skimming the surface. Theres mid-diving, which is slipping into the Mesh with normal aug-gear. You see stuff, and you can manipulate objects in-Mesh using whatever controls you have installed. I nodded. Yeah, its the internet as an MMO, I know. He nodded. Yeah, its normie shit. A Full dive, a deep dive, thats something else. You need much better mods for that, and it locks your body up. Moving shit in your head moves things in-Mesh. I think youve tried that at school, yeah? I remember that, Lucy said. We had to wear that hat with the little nubs. You could still move around though. A shower-cap, yeah, Daniel said. Thats low-level though. Real pros, real divers, they have some crazy ass gear that lets them go deep. It turns off your body, kinda like when youre asleep. Try not to wake up before your brain realizes it. Sleep paralysis is freaky as shit. Had to replace one of my augs cause I kept getting stuck in between for a few minutes at a time. Wait, Lucy said. Was that when you paid Nose to slap you every morning? Daniel frowned. Little shit kept slapping me for weeks even after I replaced the faulty aug. I bat my eyes open and found myself in a familiar lobby. Large marble pillars, a few terrariums, a wall with a revolving glass door at once end. The big difference were the signs floating above the lobby entrance and the front desk. The employees I could see were all standing unnaturally stiff in pristine hotel uniforms, and the other people in the lobby... Some were human, but they ran the gamut from supernaturally beautiful Barbie-dolls, to huge muscular monsters. Half of the people standing around were anime-esque figures, with large eyes and intricate clothes. Some of those moving around werent human at all. Monsters, familiar characters from a dozen TV shows Id glanced at before, a few videogame characters. Their appearances ranged from almost normal, to downright impossible. The biggest issue was, of course, that all of them were way taller than I was. I looked around for some sort of point of reference and found a bench nearby. I couldnt even see past the top of it. My arms were... not arms. I had paws. One was a cybernetic thing, all blue-steel and glowing pink lights, the other was a raven-black and covered in fine fur. Myalis, you absolute bitch, did you turn me into a cat? I thought it was on-theme. I stared at my paws, then looked around until I caught myself in one of the chrome surfaces around a bench. I was a cat. A cyborg cat. It was kinda cool. When did you even make this? I asked as I spun around. It felt natural to move on all fours, which was so wrong that I couldnt even begin to express why I found it wrong. I think youre severely underestimating my processing power if you think it took more than a second to create your current avatar. And you made it a cat? Yes. Because you thought it was on-theme? And amusing. Your tail actually reacts to your brains chemistry when youre irate. From what I know of human culture, you would be considered quite cute. I hate you, I said as I started to paw at the scarf around my neck. Had she copied my entire damned look? I could make it better. Maybe a bow in your hair? By the way, Daniel is approaching you. I spun around--something made difficult by suddenly being built lengthwise as opposed to vertically--and took in the terrifying sights of a many-eyed mechanical squid thing floating its way towards me. If that was Daniel, then he was probably one of the biggest avatars in the room. Not in terms of mass, but because of his many tentacles, each ending in a claw that grabbed onto the ground around us as he came to a stop. Nice model, he said. The voice was Daniels, but with a distinct electronic twang to it, like a sort of flanging. I hate it, I replied. What in the fuck are you? Im a Sentinel, he said. From... oh, nevermind. Its classy, cheap, and has a lot of arms to grab stuff with. It comes in handy. I wouldnt know, I have paws. *** Stray Cat Sidestory: Canta Clause Stray Cat Sidestory: Canta Clause One Year Ago I slammed my open palm against the entrance a dozen times in a row, each hit making the heavy metal door rattle and clang. My breath was leaving a trail of thin white fog in the air and I couldnt help but shiver under the buzzing neon light above. The street the orphanage was on wasnt actually much of a street. More an alleyway on the third floor of a pair of mega buildings. A fucking great name for what was basically two dozen tennaments all linked together and added onto by architects and engineers that were high off their asses. Some of the kids had videos on their media feeds of buildings just like this one collapsing under their own weight. They tended to have a hard time sleeping, but they couldnt help watching them over and over again. Weird little shits. I usually got past my problems by pretending they didnt exist. Open up, for fucks sake! I called out as I banged a fist against the door again. My shoulder was killing me from the sack hanging off it, and my stump was all itchy from the coarse simu-wool sweater I had on. I couldnt complain though. Lucy had forced me to wear it before leaving, and I didnt regret it. The weather had turned cold. Colder than my media feeds had said it would go. But then, those were always calibrated for the people living near the top of all the nicer buildings around. Closer to the ground, shit got a lot colder. I shifted, trying to find a way to get the bag hanging off my side to be more comfortable. Come on, I muttered before stepping back. My shoes--a set of runners we stole from a bin in front of a used clothing store before they set up some cameras in front of the place. I was pretty proud of them--slid a bit across something wet and oily and I scrunched my nose against the smell. I looked at the panel next to the door and blinked a few times to get my augs to connect to it. The interface sputtered to life in the middle of my vision, then froze up. I force quit, then tried again. Then again. The third time I was actually able to connect. WELCOME TO THE FUCKING SHITTIEST PLCE EVR!! Our hours of operation a The rest of the screen was entirely empty, but I knew better. I twitched my eye to activate my cursor and aimed it down a ways to where the button used to be to accept. A few hundred bored kids with nothing to do, half of them with five generation old-gear, wasnt great for the local software infrastructure. I blinked over where the button used to be. The screen shifted. Please enter your login information: NAME: PASS: Complete the following puzzle: I sighed and hugged my arm across my chest and started rubbing my hand up and down over my jacket for warmth as I manually entered everything. The damned puzzle was some damned Voight Kampff rip-off with intuitive questions based on poorly rendered images. It hadnt worked to stop any decent bot in a decade, but it did work at slowing me down. One of the older guys, one that had left a few months back actually, had explained it all to me. The kittens, the cripples, we were only so sellable. Damaged goods, basically. So trying to sell us was tough. The normal kids on the other hand? Yeah, clean them up, give them some last-gen augs, maybe let them take some online classes to catch up with the normies outside, and a prospective parent wouldnt hesitate as much to pick them up. We got used to the idea, after a bit. Still hard to explain it to the new kids. I knocked twice on the door to our communal area. Yo, I said. The door swung open and I was tugged in by a grinning Lucy. Cat! A few of the others cheered too, but they were shushed by the wiser kids. Didnt need the staff pulling the breaker on our rooms lights. I got presents for you little shits, I said as I swung the bag around with my hip. The door shut, and I grinned at the kittens as they got up and rushed over. Lucy pecked my cheek before stealing the bag. She puppy-dog-eyed everyone into line, then started handing things out while leaning on one crutch. The gifts were a bit lame. A toy car here, some three generation -old handheld console with an emulator there. But the kittens were laughing and whispering and looked happy for it. Nose, dont ruin your shit so soon, I warned as I noticed the brat shoving a hand in his nose. And Smog, cough on your own stuff, not others. Lucy finished handing out the last thing, then made a show of turning the bag upside down. I grinned when she clacked her way back to me. Ive got a present for you too, you know, she whispered. Oh? I asked. She tucked her head into my neck. Youll need to unwrap me first though. That sounds like my kind of gift, I said. She snorted then leaned off of me to look at the kids. Thanks for getting everything. I shrugged. Lucy was the one that planned it all. Shed made a big fuss of shopping for stuff for everyone on our non-existent budget. I was just the one that went around fetching things. No problem, I said. She smiled up at me, then grabbed my hand. Admit it, you like being all soft and caring. Fuck no, I said. She laughed and tugged me after her. Liar! Im not! I said with a laugh of my own. For that night, at least, our little corner of the world, as much as it smelled like mold and had too many of us cramped in together, was a happy place. Chapter Fourteen - Mesh Chapter Fourteen - Mesh Chapter Fourteen - Mesh The Mesh is a world onto itself, with communities and markets and entire micro-civilisations all packed into one somewhat united world running on code so complex and convoluted that no one human could do more than scratch the surface of it. Its not just the internet but more; its a whole new world, where with enough dedication, effort, and creativity, you can become someone entirely new. --Anonymous, 2045 *** Alright, Daniel said Whats the address you need to head over to? I spun around a few times, doing figure-eights beneath Daniels huge squid body to get used to the motions of my strange cat-body... avatar thing. I was pretty sure I was completely messing up the terminology, and I was also pretty sure I didnt care. Myalis has it, I said. Myalis? Sending. You know, I do believe I could set a waypoint and guide you there myself. And would you be able to guide me without stopping by every virtual veterinarian shop along the way? I asked. Nope, I dont trust you. Oh, how awful it is that a Vanguard can no longer trust her AI. Would petting you restore your confidence? Perhaps some digital catnip? Now youre just fucking with me, I said while glaring out ahead. Daniel spun around, legs twisting about behind him like, well, like a squid. You know, talking to yourself like that? Not all that great when it comes down to making you look sane. Im talking to my dumb AI, I said. Did you get the address? Yeah, I got an email for it, he said. Its in nyan speak though. My eyes narrowed. Whats nyan-speak? The squid wiggled, and Daniel started to laugh. Nah, just fucking with you. That was a good one. Do compliment Daniel for the joke, and thank him for the idea. I sighed a kitty sigh and sat down. For all that I was complaining about the avatar, it was still pretty neat, in an existential-crisis sort of way. I imagined that Lucy would very much approve of me being in this form. Right, I said. Float a bit lower, I need to get on you. Daniel dipped down a bit, his... head part coming closer to the ground. I bunched my legs under me, then jumped majestically about half a foot off the ground before flopping onto my stomach. Could you do that again? It was amusing. I got back onto all fours, then bounced on the spot a few times. Okay, I can do that, but why cant I jump? Im a damned cat. You can, actually. Youre just really bad at controlling yourself. Daniel was shaking, and I suspected the bastard was laughing at me. My second attempt at jumping was far better. I made it to Daniels head before finding no purchase on his metal skin and falling backwards and landing on my ass. He was outright laughing aloud by the time I tried a third time and made it on top of him. Stop laughing and tell me how to hang on, I said. Just hang on as best you can, Daniel said. Your feet can stick to things. Physics dont matter entirely in a digital world. I tried to raise an eyebrow at that, but all that happened was that the whisker-y things above one eye wiggled. Right, I said. A bit of fiddling with my feet did have them sticking to the top of Daniels body, so that was nice. That works. Okay Daniel, youre my valiant tentacle robot steed for the evening. I might have to tell Lucy that, he said. And please dont call me by my name. Its bad netiquette to use real names. You have a stupid name, dont you? I asked. Better than Stray Cat, he said. I shrugged. Alright, fair enough. What is it? 404_Legs_Not_Found. I looked down at Daniel, then snorted. You idiot. He chuckled, tentacles wiggling for a moment. I thought it was clever. You know, apropos. Get moving, Legs. Weve wasted enough time here. *** Chapter Fifteen - Surfing Chapter Fifteen - Surfing Chapter Fifteen - Surfing Youd think that in a purely digital world, where the constraints of the real world dont matter, the power of someone like a Samurai would be diminished. But no, just like the real world, there are some people with an unfair advantage.Geett the latest novels at novelhall.com We need to put a stop to the tendency of these people to overload our servers, and shut down all of our ad-revenue. --A. Pai, CFO of Adcorp on Dec 14th 2039, six minutes before his Mesh connection malfunctioned leading to his untimely demise. *** I rode atop my giant metal squid monster and enjoyed being carried. Not that I would admit it, but it was kind of neat to be so far above everyone else. Daniel, that is, 404_Legs_Not_Found, swam around a gathering of rather plain avatars--that all still managed to be gorgeous people--and I waved a paw at them when they tracked us with their eyes. Theyre not actually looking at you, Daniel said as he moved towards the hotels doors. Those are Barbies. And whats that? I asked. Theyre standard avatars? You can get them in a cash shop for fairly cheap. They come with some customization and all that, like a character creator, but their programings shit. Their eyes will follow anyone looking at them, but their user doesnt need to be looking that way. He flicked out a metallic tentacle towards the side where a few other avatars were walking by, some with their own entourage of very plain people following them. You can tell the fully-custom jobs apart. Shit costs an arm and a leg though. Neat, I said. So what, its a status thing? Yeah, he said. A real Meshizen wouldnt be caught dead in a prefab. Isnt your avatar a prefab? He wiggled from side to side. Sorta? Its based on an actual squid model from like, ten years back? I got a friend who does modelling to set this model over the original squid skeleton. I nodded. I almost understood that. The entrance had a set of sliding doors, not too dissimilar to the actual doors of the actual hotel we were still in. I was having a bit of trouble remembering that I wasnt where I was in the real world. It was just a bit too immersive, feeling wind against my skin... fur, and hearing things from all around. I had to remind myself that I was laying back on a couch in real life. The doors opened, and we slid through a thin blue transparent screen and out onto a huge balcony overlooking a city, of sorts. The problem with the Mesh--or one of them--was that it was such a surreal environment that it made my eyes want to cross. There were skyscrapers as far as I could see, some of them raising up, others dropping down from the ceiling. Some, the largest and most intimidating, connected the two. Yeah, but it only works one way, he said as we took off again. The lower streets, surprisingly, had a lot more people moving by. Most were moving at a steady jog, sometimes clipping through others as they passed. Strange people with vacant looks in their eyes were flicking out fliers that some people batted away and others just allowed to smack them a moment before they disappeared. Two of Daniels tentacles moved out ahead of his main body, and soon a pair of semi-transparent shields were floating ahead of us. Adblocks, he explained. Daniels avatar could float a decent ways off the road, so I had a good view of all the people we were moving past. There were a lot of the Barbies Daniel mentioned. In fact, it felt like three-quarters of the avatars we were passing were female, which was saying something when a good number of them werent in any way biological. From robots, to weird geometric shapes, to monsters from different shows and games. I even saw a few Antithesis models moving about. The models didnt quite match up to the real thing. The sides of the street were lined with nothing but shops. Some were tiny, others much larger, and all of them were fake. Not fake in the sense that they were fake stores, but the entrances, I knew, would just lead into a fresh instance that belonged to that store. They didnt need to take up any actual space on the street. The bigger the storefront, the more the owners were spending for ad-space. There, Daniel said as he beelined across the foot traffic and towards a large, stately building done up in a gothic style. It was surprisingly clean for what turned out to be a subway station. Maybe that was owing to the gargoyles on the roof that occasionally took off to tackle avatars away. X Welcome to Uganda Sonic''s Portal Palace, Stray Cat! I eyed the screen floating before me for a moment, then pressed a paw to the X in its corner. Whats that? I asked. Unlike every other ad Ive been blocking, this one was sent by a fellow AI. This area is under the control of a Class III AI which is, in turn, owned by a Vanguard. There was no spyware or any other malicious content, just a greeting. Huh, I said. Are we supposed to... reply? That would be polite. I nodded. Send something nice back? I said before turning my focus back onto the world around me. The Portal Palace lived up to its name. It was a huge open area, like the ballroom of some fantastical castle. There were huge mirror-like surfaces against every wall, and through them I could see shifting scenes from different places, all of them moving as we moved as if those places were just one room over. None of that made any real sense though, the rooms I saw would all be overlapping and some seemed to be operating on different scales. There were lines of avatars waiting before the mirrors, each one waiting their turn to interact with a panel that changed the image in the mirror. Once someone pressed on their panel a few times, theyd jump into the mirror and be off to who-knows-where. The number of rooms I saw that had vaguely pornographic images in them said lots. Lets find a place to port from, and then well be real close to your Samurai buddies, Daniel said. *** Chapter Sixteen - It Chapter Sixteen - It Chapter Sixteen - It You would be right to think that the Mesh is a full-immersion world, that being in the Mesh can trigger every human sense, from smell to balance and even the sense and perception of time. The Mesh can do all of these things. If you have the right gear. The issue comes with the steep price of that kind of gear. Most normal Mesh users are simple people, usually in first-world countries, and at middling incomes. That is to say, that even the middle-tier Mesh gear is above their standard paygrade, and most need to purchase their equipment on credit or with payments. Higher-end gear, the kind of equipment really needed to fully experience the Mesh? That can run for prices in the tens of millions of credits. More than a low-class person would make in a lifetime. Unfortunately, despite improvements in manufacturing and processing power, these set-ups are still beyond the average persons means. Mostly because the few companies making them want to keep the prices artificially inflated. That must end! --Meshizen for a Better Tomorrow, public address 2050 *** Thats it, Daniel said as he floated down a dimly lit street. There was no reason for the street to be poorly lit. It had just as many lights along its sides as any of the other streets we passed. That had to be deliberate. It certainly gave a sinister cast to all the people walking along the sidewalks. I had to keep reminding myself that in one sense, none of this was real. Being a cat certainly helped with the unreality of it all. At the end of the street was the thing Daniel was talking about, the it. It was a huge bulky building. Or maybe calling it a building was off, I wasnt all that knowledgeable about architecture, but a huge black cube without so much as a window on it didnt ping me as a building.Geett the latest novels at novelhall.com The closer we came, the bigger it felt like the building was. It certainly towered above the street, just kind of there. The strangest thing was the absolute blackness of it. None of the buildings around it, all of them festooned in ads and neon highlights, reflected the building. It was just not showing up in any glass or anything, and its surface was pitch black, without so much as a hint of light splashing against it. It certainly left a mark. And yet it was smaller than a lot of the skyscrapers around it. Glancing up, I could see its opposite in the cityscape way above, just hanging off the ceiling like so many other buildings. So, is there an entrance? I asked. Not really, Daniel said. He started to slow down, and the reason was obvious. The road leading up to the building (because it was right in the middle of an intersection) veered off to the left and right, but never reached out to the building proper. Instead, there was a railing at about waist height and then a half-dozen meters of pavement before a sheer drop. Time that I was spending trying not to get fried. The moment there was a pause in the rate of fire from the lasers I started sprinting as fast as my cat body could, beams spearing out and hitting the ground behind me as I went. They werent even marking the ground or anything, but that didnt mean I wanted to be hit. Ah, there we go. And just like that, the lasers stopped. I slowed down and eyed the building, noticing for the first time the black-on-black turrets that were even then sinking back into the surface of the structure. I panted for a bit, then realized that I wasnt actually out of breath. Okay. Okay, no more lasers. I like that. What did they say? They should be extending a bridge. As Myalis spoke, a small door opened in the side of the building and a glowing bridge flickered into existence leading up to the pavement not too far from where I was. I looked over to Daniel who was quick to jump the fence. Quite a few avatars behind him stopped to look, and there were suddenly a bunch of emotes floating in the air around them. You go in? Daniel asked. Didnt know if theyd lower the losers door for you. Losers door? I asked. A glance back at the opening revealed a little neon sign right above it with the word LOSER on it. Ah, nevermind. I shook myself one more time, resettling the weird clothes I was wearing, then started strutting over to the bridge. It felt cold-but-not under my paws, which was a bit strange. The moment Daniel and I slipped into the room at the top, the walls closed in behind us and we found ourselves in a small room. The walls were the same black as the exterior, but the floors and ceilings were grey, and recessed lights in the corners lit up the room from within. In the far end of the room was a barbie. It was a bog-standard avatar dressed in an off-white leotard. Even I recognized it as the default outfit, the thing that came with the plain model. Welcome to the Black Cube, the avatar said in a feminine voice that sounded just a little bit off. A synth voice? Hey, I said as I looked up to the Barbie. Are you the greeter here? I am, the avatar said. It is uncommon for the Black Cube to accept undeserving into its hallowed halls. Why have you come? Undeserving? I asked. Daniel shifted lower. Thats because we didnt break in, or crack past their security. We basically cheated. Exactly, the Barbie said. Yeah, well Im not here to show off any hacking skills, I said. Not that I have any. Im here to talk to Dial-Up and Lag. Ive got some things to ask them. Merely being a Samurai wont get you as far here as it would in the IRL. The Barbie looked over its shoulder, then back to us. The Black Lords are busy. Can you state your business? I considered telling the avatar off, but I was on their turf, and this wasnt a situation I could explode my way out of. Theres a girl. Katallina McCarthy. She went missing during yesterdays incursion. Shes a Samurai. She was kidnapped by some corpo goon types. Im trying to track them down. Longbow said you could help. The Barbie locked up, no emotions showing on her too-perfect face for a long, long time. Then she blinked. Come with me. Ill lead you to them. *** Chapter Seventeen - Dial-Up and Lag Chapter Seventeen - Dial-Up and Lag Chapter Seventeen - Dial-Up and Lag Pop Culture IS Mesh Culture. Memes are the currency of the digital world. Its a world where being a sweet-talker can get you further than having any amount of money, and when everyone is divided into cliques and little in-groups, a bunch of them with huge crossover to other groups, knowing the right meme to say at the right time is like passing the right code phrase along to make sure you really do fit in. Its chaotic, its a mess, and its fucking beautiful. --Anonymous Meshizen, 2031 *** The Barbie led us through a paper-thin portal in a wall that opened up onto a catwalk. Below were dozens of cubes, each one with plenty of space to walk around them. And each face of the cubes led into a different space occupying the entire cube. What? Oh, neat, Daniel said as he spun his upper body around to see better. Theyve got full non-euclidian here. Please walk in the centre of the catwalk. Its the shortest path to the far end of the room, the barbie said. I looked at the back of her head, then stepped to the side so that I was on the edge of the catwalk. Suddenly, the other two were shooting out ahead of me. Returning to the middle made the space between us shorter in a way that had my head twinging in pain. What? Space doesnt need to obey normal rules in the Mesh. Gravity and inertia are the rules that we usually break. You know, like how Im floating right now, Daniel said. But things like linear space can be messed with too. Yeah, but why? I asked. Daniel wiggled in a sort of shrug. Because it means having more space in less space if two things can be in the same space at the same time? I shook my head, whiskers wiggling, and looked down again towards the cubes. There were people in them, some in very strange avatars. They were lounging around, others were typing on floating keyboards, and no two cubes were the same. Are those cubicles? Not quite, the Barbie said. If you can prove that youre worthy of being here, you get some cube space. What you do with it is up to you. Most just carve out a little space for themselves. Some turn it into an exhibit, others into an access port to some other place in the Mesh. We attract some very creative people here. I can imagine, I said. Gotta be creative to be a proper criminal, right? The Barbie slowed to a stop, turned, and looked down at me without her expression so much as twitching. Is there a problem? Uh, no? Im cool with criminals. I crime all the time, I said. But seriously, Im just here to find some clues to save some girl. Thats it. The people here, the real hackers and crackers, do more good for society than you could imagine. We act as a counter to some of the most corrupt assholes in the IRL. We make medical bills disappear, send the wrong information to the right people, make R&D projects for some nasty shit fall through. I will leave you to it. Ill be waiting by the exit, the Barbie said. She left, the vault door now replaced by a pretty typical wooden door straight out of the set from a really old movie. I finished looking around and settled down a bit. So, uh, hey, I said. Nice avatars? Thanks, Dial-Up said. Im a huge Back to the Future fan. A sci-fi classic, you know? This idiot got that piece of trash avatar from a fucking bootleg Disney merch stall. Hey, this thing works well enough, Lag said. It really didnt look like it was working well at all. So, what was with the solar system? I asked. The doctor shrugged. We tapped into SpaceXs sensor suite and were snooping around. Just keeping an eye on things. He reached under a desk, pulled out a seat, and plopped himself down on it. So, you were sent by Longbow, right? Yeah, I confirmed. Im looking for a girl. A Katalina McCarthy. I got some video from the security system around her place. She was taken by a bunch of assholes. Send the footage over, Dial-Up asked. Well see what we can do. Just like that? I asked. No payment or anything? If youre actually looking for your lost girlfriend or something well donate all your assets to the Eastern Russian Sewage Reconstruction fund, then make your digital life a digital nightmare, Lag said. But yeah, youre looking for a kid Samurai, right? We dont charge for that. Taking some of our time though, Dial-Up said. Time better spent snooping on Mars? I asked. Yes, actually. Sending now! Nice avatar by the way. Most folk stick to humanoids, but the both of you went off script. Good detail work on the fur. Bet some folks would pay top dollar for such an accurate model, Dial-up said. Got the files, Lag said. A moment later the robots eyes went red, and suddenly we were no longer in a garage, but in a familiar corridor. The one McCarthy had been kidnapped from. I fell a few feet to the carpeted floor when the counter I was on disappeared. This is a reconstruction. Its not accurate, Dial-Up said. He gestured to some parts of the room that were just colourless holes in reality. Blindspots. Now, lets see whats what. I got to watch the mercenaries kidnap Kattalina all over again, though this time in full three-dimensions. Well, well, Dial-Up said. Isnt that interesting. *** Chapter Eighteen - Gotcha Chapter Eighteen - Gotcha Chapter Eighteen - Gotcha Every niche has their celebrities. Every community has a few charismatic, or at the very least talented, individuals that everyone gets to know. Theyre the name that everyone mentions, the standard that others try to meet. This is true both on the micro and macro levels. Nations have popular leaders, and clubs and friend groups have the one person that all the others look up to. More often than not, when you introduce a Samurai into that equation, they take that role, and quite comfortably at that. Theres just something about the people chosen to be Samurai that makes them stand apart. --Extract from a post on the PsychologyForever forums, 2036 *** Alright, so what can you tell me? I asked. Stepping forwards, I started to weave my way through the scene, passing between the legs of the mercenaries and looking up at them from new angles. There wasnt that much more to see, really. This and that, Dial-Up said. First, your girl here is using a cheap weapon. Twenty-Five points, its a rifle that fires guided micro-missiles. Like the Hummingbird? I asked. Thats an example, yes, he said. Though this ones reloadable and a bit more reliable. Bit more expensive. You know how that works. Alright. I said. What else? Lag was the one to step up, his feet clunking on the floor in contrast to my cats paws silent tread. Ive got nothing on these guys. Their gear is just about all aftermarket stuff. Sold to SWAT and some police units. You know the sort. I nodded. And? And this guy stands out. Lag pointed to the one member of the group with the big backpack covered in high-tech gear. That kind of equipment doesnt come cheap, and it isnt exactly mass-produced. Im getting... about a thousand pings for sales in North America in the last half decade. I eyed the guys little antenna and heavy backpack, most of the details were covered in black cloth. Can you pin-point the guy, then? Not from that alone, Lag said. He gestured again and a screen appeared next to him. Lists and information scrolling by faster than I could read. See, these things arent meant for nice commercial uses. Its the kind of equipment youd give to an IRL hacker on a squad just like this. Any Samurai with similar stuff? I asked. Yes. Us, Lag said. The point is, as distinct as this thing is, its not going to be easy to trace. The people who buy this stuff make a point of that. But, this little guy was cheap. Cheap how? Dial-Up chimed up. Software. He used some custom software to shut down the CCTV systems they crossed. Nice stuff. Well coded. A bit of overkill for the level of tech this building has. Still, it left its mark. Purchased right over here, in the Cube. Is this the Enterprise? Daniel asked. Dial-Up nodded. It is. Lag, on the screen? Lag nodded and soon the front of the bridge, which had a nice view into outer space, flickered and was filled with a websites front page. The Hour Men Your Target Dead in an Hour or Less! Is that really their tagline? I asked. The side had a bunch of generic images, and some boring links above, like Products and Locations in bold. Looks like it, Lag said. Theyre pretty open about what they do, but thats normal on the dark web these days. You need to be loud. They have a testimonials section, I pointed out. Dial-Up shrugged. His eyes were flicking this way and that as he replied. They have great reviews on Yelp. I jumped to the captains seat and spun around to sit while facing the front. The better view allowed me to see more of their screen. So are they the ones? Cant tell, Lag said. The server their sites on has nothing else on it. The owner of the server... has been dead for twelve years. I cant find anything in the sites code. Its all pre-purchased stuff, bought on credit that was later reported missing. Theyve covered their tracks well. So how do I get to them and find McCarthy. Oh, they wont have her, Dial-Up said. Not these guys. They probably brought her and her dog somewhere else. For fucks sake, I muttered. Can you tell me where? Lag hummed, then shook his head. Nope. Tracing their vehicles leads to a parking garage, then the trail goes cold. I could get you a list of employees, but none of them had phones or augs that tracked their motions across the city yesterday. At least, none of those I suspect were on that mission. Then... what should I do? Dial-Up grinned. You were looking forward to using a bit of violence to solve things, right? Because we have an address IRL. So, I can ask them in person? I asked. Yeah, yeah, I think I can do that. Well try to give you a hand, Lag said. Youre a stealth specialist, right? We can probably cut the power to the entire block. Wouldnt that just alert them all? I asked. Lag shrugged. My body is a one hundred and eighty ton tank. I dont do stealth. Fair enough. Okay. Okay yeah, I can do that. *** Chapter Nineteen - Log Off Chapter Nineteen - Log Off Chapter Nineteen - Log Off If you dont know your Mesh etiquette, then youll end up being the one caught walking around with your fly down. The one that others shy away from because youre too loud at the wrong time. Thats why, in collaboration with Nimbletainment, were presenting this five-part series on the etiquette of the Mesh! Strap yourselves in, kids, because were going to be learning a whole lot today! --Meshy the Manatee, a Nimbletainment Education Mascot/Vtuber. June 2036 *** Thanks you two, I said. Youve been surprisingly helpful. Dial-Up scoffed, shaking his head enough that his wild mane of white hair wiggled around. Think nothing of it. You could do with learning a bit more about the Mesh though. I shrugged my kitty shoulders, and when the room turned into a grand library without so much as a twitch, I didnt startle. Im getting used to it, I think. But I have something waiting for me in the real world. Lag shook his head with a rusty squeak. This is the real world, he said. Its perceptible, and follows its own set rules. Its even, technically, physically present. Its just different enough that some of us like it better here than in the IRL. But you still call it the IRL? I asked. He moved his arms in a sort of what can you do gesture. We need to call it something. I looked around the library, at the dusty shelves and old books. Daniel looked entirely out of place hovering there. Well, Im off to go scare the truth out of some mercs. Thanks again. Ill get the girl to send you some digital flowers or something once I get her ass out of the fire. Dial-Up barked a laugh. Sure. I think Id like that. You know where the exit is, he said with a gesture behind me. A glance back showed a heavy double door at the end of the library. Cant I just log out from here? Daniel sighed. Shes real clueless, sorry, he said. What? I asked. You cant just... thats like walking into someones house and not taking your boots off, you know. Im not taking my boots off for anyone, I said. Daniel slumped in mid-air, like a squid that had just been stepped on. Dammit. Its like, uh, someone opening your fridge without permission, or someone not leaving the room when you want some alone time with Lucy. Right, right, its impolite, I get it. Im not entirely daft. Surprising! Shush you. I turned and strutted over to the door. See you two geeks around, I said. Good luck, Stray, Lag said. The idiot didnt explode or burst apart, there werent even any particle effects or anything. His avatar froze, twitched once, then disappeared. I landed on all fours, my guns already folding back into my back. Right, thats enough internet for today, I said. Myalis, lets log off. Understood. The world turned the comforting blue of a BIOS screen fritzing out, then black for just a moment before I opened my eyes to see an unfamiliar ceiling. A glance around confirmed that I was back in the real world, in the living room Id left. Though I had a few more pillows around my head and my lips were wet. Had I been drooling? Daniel was still knocked out on the sofa, legs over the edge and arms splayed out above him. He was twitching just a little, his eyes moving under the skin of his eyelids. Nice and creepy. With a sigh, I pushed myself up and got to my feet, only to find myself pausing as I wobbled a bit. Everything felt just a little bit off. I bounced on the spot a few times, stretched my arm out, then bent my knees close to my chest to get everything back in order. It seemed to work. Cat? Lucy asked from the corridor. She stepped in, her face lighting up with a smile the moment she saw me standing. How did it go? Eh, I said. She pulled me into a hug, then planted a wet kiss on my mouth. So, I experimented with a bit of somnophilia, she said. You did? I asked. She nodded. Yup. I kissed you real good. But its just no fun when youre not reacting to it. I snorted and returned the kiss. Pervert. Come on, youd have tried the same thing, she said. No. But I might have copped a feel, I said before giving her an example of what I meant. Daniel sighed. Can you guys at least let me set up something to record this before you start? I rolled my eyes and pulled back from Lucy. The moment was kinda ruined. Dammit Daniel, I said. Youre lucky that youre useful enough to keep around. The boy laughed and shifted on the sofa until he was sitting up, legs over the side and toes squeezing and letting go restlessly. Thats my goal in life, to be moderately useful. Keep trying, I said. But, yeah, thanks for acting the guide. No problem. Oh, and I got lots of screencaps for Lucy. I bet you could talk her into petting you. What? Lucy asked. Nevermind that, I said. Come on, we have some things to plan out. Like how to hit up a mercenary base. Youre doing what? *** Chapter Twenty - Warpath Chapter Twenty - Warpath Chapter Twenty - Warpath There are few things more terrifying than a Samurai on a warpath. These things include showing symptoms of whatever plague is currently in vogue, noticing a mushroom cloud in your vicinity, and seeing more than one Samurai on a warpath. Its real easy to die out there these days. So remember. Wash your hands, dont live in an impoverished neighbourhood, always shut the fuck up, and youll get to live a long, and... pleasant life. --Jeremy Rotter, lifecoach. 2044 *** Lucy and I navigated over to the kitchen as I explained things to her. So, the mercs that got Katallina were real, uh, discreet right? Yup, Lucy agreed. So Lag and Dial-Up, who are real weirdos, but theyre alright sorts. Anyway, they tracked them down. Or at least figured out which group theyre from based on the software they used. I probably wouldnt have been able to track them myself. Now I know who they are, more or less, and where to go knocking to find them. So, youre going to go knocking at the door of a really dangerous, very competent group of mercenaries, all on your own? Thats the plan? I tried. Lucy smiled at me. It was a very dangerous smile. You know, I do like you alive, right? Youre nice and soft. You make for a good bed warmer. I would be very disappointed if you ran off to fight some mercs and got dead because you lack common sense. I rolled my eyes. Alright, yeah. I get it, I said as I sat down. Is there anything to eat? Lucy moved over to the fridge and popped it open. Therere leftovers, if you want something fast. Or we could order something? Leftovers are fine, I said. Probably better than anything from the orphanage. Aww, you dont miss the sugar and corn-syrup with the occasional bit of protein juice pressed into... some weird shapes? Lucy asked. Ohh, with that yellow cheese stuff! Dont diss the yellow cheese stuff, I said. Well, this one has real cheese, Lucy said as she pulled a plate out of the fridge. I only caught sight of something beige before she shoved it in the microwave and set it on. I flinched with every beep. Why were microwaves so damned loud? New ears aside. So, Lucy said as she leaned against the counter. What are you going to do about the mercs? I could call the police on them? I tried. We both giggled. No, but really, Ill ping Deus Ex. Maybe shell get off her lazy little ass and will give me a hand. Maybe I can ask my nun friend too. Dumbass clicked over, then jumped onto the far end of the table. The little robot shifted before depositing itself down. I can call her, if you wish. Do you want it to be out loud? I waved her on. Sure. The robot spun around and soon the kitchen filled with the tri-tone beeping of a phone going off. Something clicked and a familiar voice came out from Dumbass. Stray Cat? Oh, they actually call you that? Lucy whispered. Youre not Stray Cat, Gomorrah said. I cleared my throat. Yeah, yeah, its me. Well, no, that was Lucy, but Im here. Anyway, yeah, howre you doing? Smooth, Lucy muttered. Im well, Gomorrah said. Is this a courtesy call or something? I dont actually know what that is, I said. Nah, Im calling you to know if youd be willing to help me bust some mercs later? They kidnapped this Samurai kid. So Im going to be paying them the fun sort of visit. I gestured to dumbass the first. Myalis, can you send her the stuff. Sending the... stuff now, Myalis said. Give me a minute, Gomorrah said. I hummed something agreeable sounding and cut my meat up with the side of my fork. I was pretty sure that meat wasnt meant to be that tender. I wondered what it tasted like when it was fresher. Ah, thats no good, Gomorrah said. I know, right, I said. I wiggled my fork through the air. You want in? Id go in alone, but my girlfriend would get all worried and annoying about me handling things on my own. Were pretty much done in the incursion zone, Gomorrah said. The only parts left are right around the centre of the hive, and thats being cared for by some higher tier samurai. I suppose I have the time.... That Ill make the time to save a sister. Thats great, I said. Wanna meet up... uh, where are you, and Myalis, wherere the mercs? If youre looking for a place to meet Vanguard Gomorrah, then this hotel is more or less between her and your objective, Myalis said. That works for me, I said. Likewise. Ill see you in about half an hour. Ill send Myalis a ping when I get there, Gomorrah said. See you later Stray Cat. And good day Lucy. Bye! Lucy called out. Dumbass shifted a little. Call over. Shall I requisition a car? Wait until Gomorrah arrives. She might have a car already. And squeezing into a clown car on my own was fine, but it would be a bit embarrassing with someone else. I sighed. I guess that means I need to keep moving, I said. Lucy patted my thigh. Its alright. Just be safe, okay? Yeah, no worries, I said. Ill be back before you know it. Lucy grinned. I hope you wont be so tired that youll just fall asleep this time? I flushed. Ill be sure not to, I said. *** Chapter Twenty-One - God’s Righteous Fury Chapter Twenty-One - God¡¯s Righteous Fury Chapter Twenty-One - Gods Righteous FuryTh.e? most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m Car culture was a multi-billion-dollar industry before Samurai came about and introduced technologies that changed the way driving worked for everyone. Now, car culture is a multi-trillion-dollar industry, with everyone from the super rich who want their Rolls Royce to be made to their exacting specification, to street punks who covered their beaters with wraps of their favourite waifus. Anyone can mod their rides to be just a little faster. Everyone dreams of drift-flying around the smoke-stacks in the factory districts of various mega cities. -J. P. Kafka on the evolution of car culture, Jan 2038 *** I wasnt feeling my best as I rode the elevator down to the lobby. My clothes were in a bit of a state after Lucys very enthusiastic good-bye, and if it wasnt for the guilt of knowing that some kid needed help, I might have called off the whole thing to take another long shower. As entertaining as your distress is, it might be best if you focused a little. You think? I muttered. I tugged my coat back on straight, then made sure all of my gear was in place. I had my Trench Maker tucked under one arm, my Whisper over my back. My back-mounted guns were tucked away, and my tail was casually whipping from side to side. It was a lot of weaponry, and yet I still felt like I could have a bit more. Still, it wasnt worth losing points just yet, not if I could spare them. The elevator slowed to a gentle stop and its doors opened. My freaky new ears almost immediately gave me an image of the room before I stepped out into it, and of the salesman in the corner whispering, There she is. I walked fast. I wanted to duck my head down and try to be unnoticable, but there was no way that would work. My jacket, un-transparent as it was, looked a bit like the acid-rain proof long coats worn by some of the folk around, but my armour beneath sure didnt. Lucy had once told me that one of the best ways to get around was to look like you knew what you wanted and to move ahead with your head held tall and your back straight. It was good advice for an orphan on the streets. Myalis, can you send a warning to the idiots coming over? Certainly. Do you wish to see it first? Will you send something embarrassing if I dont ask? Definitely. I rolled my eyes, then blinked a few times to get over the still-strange sensation of having two eyes to blink. Show me. Dear unintelligent marketing person, Be aware that the Vanguard you are approaching is currently on an important, uninterruptible mission to safeguard the life of someone more important than you. Attempts to stall or interrupt this vital mission will result in one of the following: - The leaking of embarrassing personal information - Dismemberment - Defenestration - Public humiliation - The sudden and irreversible erasure of all information (including images, digital paperwork, identity files, records, video, and digitized memories) of your person from any source connected to an open network, including banks, social media, schools, and the internet as a whole. Please assess whether the risks are worth the potential loss of the Vanguard''s time. Thank you <> I nodded after reading it. That was suitably terrifying. Whys it superimposed over a gif of kittens chasing a ball of yarn? Thats a live feed from the internet, actually. And I enjoy the juxtaposition. I think it makes it just a little bit more intimidating. Alright, alright, I said. So, we plan on the way? Sure, she said as she reached out and flicked a pair of very old-school switches. Identify, A disembodied voice demanded. Fury: Roar, Gomorrah said. I snorted, but the sound was drowned out by a low, primal rumble and a few bursts of blue flames burping out of the raised scoop on the hood. The car lifted, then I wasnt able to tell what happened because I was thrown into my seat and breathing became a thing of the past. I did notice that the darkened landing pad became open sky through the canopy. For a few good seconds I was too busy trying to not die to observe anything. Oh, sorry, Gomorrah said as she loosened on the acceleration. I gasped for air and pressed a hand against my chest. What the hell? I asked. Traffic in the upper levels is set at three hundred KPH. Just wanted to get to cruising speed. Uh-huh, I said. It was a weak attempt at snark, but I was still catching my breath. A look down revealed all of New Montreal, done in somber colours and with the flashing headlights of slower moving cars below. Huge holographic ads splashed through the sky, and we zipped by a few ad-blimps with even more ads on their sides. I know the views great, but you asked me for help? I stopped staring. Right. So, did you read the stuff I sent? You mean what your AI sent? I listened to the abridged version. There was an abridged version? Were going after these mercs, called the, uh... fuck, it doesnt matter. Theyre the ones that grabbed Katallina, the Samurai girl. No Samurai name for her? Gomorrah asked. Never met her in person, I said. So, They took her. Dont know if shes still with them or not, but if shes not with them, then theyre the next link in the line, you know? Gomorrah nodded. The plan, as far as there is one, is to kick in the front door and ask some very pointed questions, I said. Arent you a stealth specialist? Gomorrah asked. Cant you sneak in? I frowned as I thought about it. Probably? Might not be a bad idea. They might get spooked if we burn down their front door. I can always wait as backup, Gomorrah said. Also, hang on, were going down. Then the car flipped upside down, Gomorrah pulled the joysticks back and aimed us nose down. I screamed a little. *** Chapter Twenty-Two - Reaction Time Chapter Twenty-Two - Reaction Time Chapter Twenty-Two - Reaction Time If you ever have to fight a Samurai, and thats already a losing proposition, then the very best thing you can do is make sure they dont have time to react. They have an infinite arsenal at their disposal; but only a finite amount of time to pick which tool to use. Strike fast. Strike hard, and never strike the same way twice. --Anonymous, from a dark web guide for hitmen, 2052 *** Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Gomorrah twitched her hands to the side, and we juked out of the path of a cargo craft so fast that even my cybernetic eye only caught a passing glimpse of the life insurance ad on its side. Shit shit shit! I added as Gomorrah started to pull up, then encountered the rising, warning-light covered smokestacks of New Montreals industrial district. My everything clenched as she flung us to one side to avoid a pole, then tossed us in the other direction to keep from ramming a chimney. Tight, Gomorrah said before rolling the car to the side to slip in between two metallic blurs. I didnt even see them until we were shooting past them. Fuck shit, I agreed. Gomorrah snorted and levelled us off. She smoothly guided the Fury down between the mega structures nearest the industrial sector and wove down into the main traffic lanes. She was still ducking and weaving around slower cars, but it wasnt at a speed that had my lunch considering a violent exit. Where did you learn to drive, and can someone sue them for incompetence, I said. Come on, no ones died from my driving, Gomorrah said. I feel there should be a yet at the end there, I said. Maybe in italics. The nun laughed. I got my license early, so I used to drive the church van around a lot. Bringing people closer to god by means of heart attacks? I asked. You know, at this rate I expect you to just crash into the mercs hidey-hole. Thats one way of doing it, Gomorrah said. But nah. Im going to park us a few blocks over, and we can make our way down on foot. Is it a nice enough neighbourhood to leave this thing parked on its own? I asked. No ones going to steal my car, Cat. Its a nice car, I said.Re?a?d new chapters at novelhall.com It can handle itself, Gomorrah said. Right Fury? The car chimed a positive-sounding two-tone note. I shrugged. She was probably right. It would take someone with serious balls to try and jack a Samurais ride. We veered out of traffic a moment later and glided down a few levels, past billboards and ads and a few sky bridges between the buildings towering above us until Gomorrah came level with a hangar door in the side of a building. Here you go. A stretch of the building some three stories tall lit up in purple. I toyed with the controls built into my augs until it was zoomed in a little and I could see it better. The section the mercs were using wasnt perfectly square. Some of the rooms from other parts of the building poked into their space, but it was a near thing. Looks like a sort of garage on the first floor. Living spaces on the second, and... maybe those are offices on the third? Indeed. The bottommost floor occupied by The Hour Men is the fifth floor of the building. Where are the entrances? I asked. Five doors were highlighted in red. Three emergency exits leading into a stairwell that crossed a decent portion of the entire building. A door by the offices, no doubt leading into a sort of lounge, and the main door of the garage. Those fire escape entrances look to be in pretty quiet spots, Gomorrah said. I really doubt theyre viable entrances, I said. They have to be locked up, or else bricked over. Unless these guys are complete idiots, and I doubt that. You think that highly of them? No. I just dont like the idea of underestimating someone so much, I said. I think the garage is too obvious, and the main entrance is a bust. Unless you go in with a disguise or something. That... was an idea. Maybe. Lets look at other things first. Myalis, they have an entire wall thats on the exterior, right? They do. The garage-side wall lit up. Any windows? Four windows flashed the same colour as the entrances. Well, theres another option, I said. How important is it that you get in physically? Gomorrah asked. The elevator dinged and its doors opened out into a little lobby with cracked tiled floors and heaps of trash shoved up against the corners. I guess we should figure out what we want to do with them before breaking in, huh? That might save us some time, Gomorrah said. Right. Priority one is the girl. And I guess her dog. We need to find out if shes there. If she is, then we extract her. Just the two of us? Gomorrah asked. I chewed on my cheek, then shook my head. No. Thats too risky. If she is there, then we get some other Samurai to help. Someone like Deus Ex could probably fry everyone in the building from a dozen kilometers away without hurting her. Itd be safer. And if shes not there? Gomorrah asked. Then we find out where she is. If that means finding someone to ask questions to, then so be it. *** Chapter Twenty-Three - Phones Chapter Twenty-Three - Phones Chapter Twenty-Three - Phones Phones! For well over a hundred and fifty years, humanity has been brought closer together thanks to the wired, and eventually wireless, communication networks that followed wherever we congregated. Perhaps the most iconic of these is the smartphone. So called because the device was meant to be smart. Not in the sense that it had any kind of learning or adaptive AI, but in the sense that it allowed someone to be more productive and achieve more. That turned out to be a lie. Phones significantly reduced a persons attention span and ability to focus, introduced constant para-relationships and entertainment on the go. Thats why today we use the successors of the handy smartphone instead. Augs! Linked between your optic nerve, the inside of your eye, and an implanted processor, the modern aug (or, as it is properly called, ocular augmentation) allows you to do anything you could with a cellphone, but with only a thought! There can be issues though. That is why one should always ensure that their augs are the top of the line, and running the latest updates and have kept up with their rental fees. Having your eyes shut off for missed payments is no joke! --Part of Freezerburn Electronics stealth advertising campaign of 2031. *** Windows it is, I said. I patted myself down, making sure everything was in place and stepped out into the little lobby wed dropped down to. Myalis waypoints led out ahead and to the left, and I wasnt about to argue with that. Finding your way around in a mega building was a strange sort of skill you needed to hone pretty well if you were going to live in the bowels. There were some efforts to make things fit a certain mold, but those usually fell flat when every other building had a different company building it. It reached the point where you could kinda tell who built what based on the way the buildings innards were arranged. I couldnt name any of those construction companies, of course, but I could recognize a pattern. Some had lots of tight corridors in the centre and bigger rooms on the outside, others the opposite. One group had a sort of open space in the middle that often reached out all the way to the sky above and was used as a sort of extra space for walkways. It never ended up as fancy as it sounded. I kinda recognized where we were going a few corridors down. Id never been here, but Id been in enough places like it that it wasnt hard to figure it out. We crossed through one passage with peeling wallpaper set over cement walls and shoved through a doorway into a street. What of them? Gomorrah asked. There were fewer people around. Not as many beggars, more girls and the occasional boy next to intimately dark entrances. No manned food stalls either. You can tell a lot from ads, I said. The folks that put them up have a vested interest and make sure they target their audience, you know? I suppose. Around your part of the city, I bet there are lots of ads for bibles or... I dont know, Jesus wine? TV evangelists? Whatever it is you religious types like. Back there, there was food and insurance and job sites. The kind of stuff that the people living there need. And here its drugs and guns, Gomorrah said. She wasnt dumb. So the people here need those things. The people here have proven statistically likely enough to buy those things that its cost-effective to put up ads for them, I said. At least, thats how it was explained to me. Gomorrah nodded, and I saw her hunching a bit. She brought her arms up, sliding her hands into her opposite sleeves. I didnt think it wise to make oneself small, but we were just passing by, and it wasnt time for street living lessons. There were two ways to move through a dangerous part. Three, really. You moved fast. You moved like you fit in. Or you made small and tried to look unappetizing. The way we were dressed, even if we werent covered in chrome and spit-shined like some fancy corporate stooge, still hinted that we had a few credits to spare. It was better to make it look like that was because we werent to fuck with than looking like someone that had followed their GPS off to the wrong corner. Catherine, could you look to your left? Behind the hologram of a woman with a cheap rifle. I let out a sigh when I noticed a kid staring at us from behind a dancing holographic woman using a rifle as some sort of marital aid. He had one eye glowing with the tell-tale sign of someone with some cheap aftermarket aug. Myalis, why did you pick this road? It is the route to your destination that requires the least time spent lingering in gang-infested areas. Hmm, fair enough, I guess. I looked at the kid again and made sure to focus on his eyes. Any way you can tell me what hes up to? Sending a live feed of you and Gomorrah to three young men with surprisingly varied criminal records who happen to be waiting in an alley some hundred meters away. Thats nice. Any chance you could tell them not to pull off whatever theyre thinking of doing? Only if I get creative. None of them have augmentations. Theyre using a tablet of all things to see the feed from the child. Give me a moment, it might take some convincing them, at least if theyve consumed as many narcotics as I suspect. I reached into my jacket and pulled out my Trench Maker. We might need to do some negotiating, I said. *** Chapter Twenty-Four - Choosing to Die Chapter Twenty-Four - Choosing to Die Chapter Twenty-Four - Choosing to Die Modern policing is very successful. As long as youre in a sector that is deemed safe (often marked with the colour code white), then the rate of violence is actually some of the lowest ever recorded in human history. Occasionally, policing forces will descend into areas with higher levels of violence (also called brown zones) in order to secure the citizens there against potential violent criminals. There are many tactics that the modern cop uses to tell if a person is a threat. That includes surveillance AI routines, automatic record scrapers and the good old M.I.N.O.R.I.T.Y. technique for determining if the cop will be suspended for firing upon a potential suspect! Theres no longer any need to worry about corruption! Our own internal auditing and reporting system has cleared every one of our officers of any suspicions. --Ad for Dirty, an international policing agency, 2052 *** Look at these fine ladies, one of them said. Our greeters were seven young men. Most barely out of their teens, but two of them looked like they were pushing thirty or so. Pretty old for street rats. That either meant they were important, tough, lucky, or had fallen in late. All but the last was usually a bad sign. Id spoken to some middle-class sorts before. Mostly through the obligatory socializing parts of my shitty schooling where we had to talk to other kids on similar programs across the country. Of course, the school programs listened to everything we said to make profiles of us later, but that was a given. When I talked about street rats, the middle-class sort always had the same mental image. Guys with crazy hair, lots of leather, and too many spikes on their clothes. The image wasnt entirely wrong, some gangs really went for that straight-to-streaming look. But the average street rat? They werent going out and buying ten-thousand credit pseudo-leather jackets and dying their hair. They were lucky if a single thing they wore wasnt picked out of a second-hand pile or someone elses fresh corpse. These seven were that sort. The only sun they saw was in the glow of neon ads, and their teeth had more colours than their hair. I looked at Gomorrah, but she was quiet, mask fixed on the nearest of them. I like to imagine she was unimpressed under there. I wasnt so blas. These sorts might have spent nothing on clothes and less on hygiene, but when they did have cash, it went into one of three things. Drugs, ass, and guns. And these guys only looked a little high, and very horny.Geett the latest novels at novelhall.com Shifting my shoulders, I looked for whichever one stood out as the leader of the bunch. You sure you wanna do this? I asked. One of them grinned. He shouldnt have. Yeah girl. Youre a fine enough looking piece, and that arm of yours. He whistled. Wouldnt mind that wrapped around my member. I sighed. Gomorrah, I know youre fine with killing antithesis, but how are you on killing normies? You mean human beings? Gomorrah asked. I was about to bring it up. While murders never been something the average Christian is against, I find it a bit distasteful when its of human beings. Right, right, I said. But wont all of these idiots have a much happier life in... heaven or whatever? I asked. Were just speeding things along. I... wasnt expecting that kind of reference. Its more of a Geneva suggestion for us, I said. Now, we have business elsewhere, and youre wasting our time. So, if you could kindly fuck off, that would be really appreciated. The rats looked to each other, then came to the unanimous decision to run away. They did it with a swagger, as if trying to convince anyone looking that it wasnt a full-on retreat, but they still left us be. Did you really have to kill him? Gomorrah asked. Probably not, I said. I didnt dwell on the body next to me much. I havent exactly invested in non-lethals though, and I dont know if I could take someone of that size one-on-one. Also, my head isnt as bulletproof as the rest of me. You really need to see to that, Gomorrah said. Its the only part you cant replace. It should be the part youre the most keen on protecting. I sighed. Yeah, I guess. Dont really like hats though. Get a shield, or a helmet. One of these days one of those sorts of punks will pull one of those anti-antithesis guns from somewhere and your head will be mulched. You can do funeral rites, yeah? No, no I cant. And I wouldnt for you. Youd think someone like you would have better survival instincts. I frowned. What does someone like you mean? And are you really shitting on my survival instincts miss the lanes are a suggestion? Gomorrah humphed and continued on. I had to jog to catch up. You know, I kind of expected you to just kill them all. Should I have? It wouldnt be appropriate of me to say yes. But at the same time, they didnt seem like very virtuous people. I rubbed at my lip a bit while thinking of an answer. I understood her wanting to off the idiots. I wouldnt shed a tear for any of them. At the same time... You know, this is gonna sound really cheesy. What is? When I was a kid they had these, uh, re-reruns, I guess, of these old comics. When I got to the orphanage for the first time. That was before I found Lucy. This older kid gave me this collection. All pirated of course. I lost it when I switched augs at some point. But... yeah. I used to read these stories about old Samurai. Street warriors. Heroes. And theyd always try to do the right thing. I kinda wanted to be like that. Thats... kind of cute. I glared at the nun. No, really. Its nave, and thats coming from a Christian, but its kind of endearing. I guess thats why you were chosen to become a Samurai. I shrugged. I dont know. Maybe. Anyway, it doesnt feel right to kill idiots when you dont need to, and where we are now? Theres not much we have no choice in doing. *** Chapter Twenty-Five - Ramen Break Chapter Twenty-Five - Ramen Break Chapter Twenty-Five - Ramen Break Certain traditions are fated to fade away. Sometimes they are kept alive by historians and dedicated practitioners, but as technology moves on and culture shifts, the need for some traditions just ceases. Some, on the other hand, especially those that were able to adapt, to become commercialized and commodified, not only survive, but thrive. New cultures adopt them, they become a symbol of something greater, and in so doing, are immortalized, at least for the moment. When I was a young man in Japan, I, like many others, enjoyed the quick and dirty foods of the convenience store and street vendors. None of these more than the ramen that kept me fed through years of schooling and bachelorhood. That is why, when I saw the rise of automation, I saw my chance to take on an old tradition, a symbol, and help it evolve into something new. It was a grand risk, but I believe the rewards have been worth it. --Minato Watanabe, CEO, founder, and sole employee of Automata-Ramencorp International *** Because of the way the building was laid out, the mercs place was set at the end of this long corridor. To one side was a long wall with nothing on it but a few little vents and a couple of cameras. Along the opposite side was a Korean nail salon, of all things. Gomorrah and I never got to that corridor, of course. When we reached the building the mercs were staying at, we went up a few floors and picked some seats at this shitty little android-operated ramen stand. The bot behind the counter wasnt one of those fancy models trying to look human. It was just a cheap assembly of hard plastic over poorly-oiled actuators and servos. Most of the cooking was done through a conveyor system, so all it had to do was handle the transactions and put bowls in front of customers. Gomorrah paid. I slurped up a few freshly overboiled noodles and blinked as my eyes watered from the heat on my tongue. Ah, okay, I said. So, the front entrance is obviously a no-go. Obviously, Gomorrah said. She opened her third pack of spicy sauce and dumped it into her bowl. Theres brazen and then theres brazen. I nodded and spun my chopsticks around, ignoring the ads scrolling along their sides. Yeah. So that leaves my first less-dumb idea. We, or at least I, go in by the windows on the outside. Youre not afraid that they have those monitored? All of them? I asked. I shrugged. Yeah, you know what, they might. They had some pretty good gear, and it took a lot to track them to here. Wouldnt surprise me if they went overboard with the safety stuff too. Could your Myalis disable the security? Gomorrah asked. My AI isnt strong with that, but I have a few points to spend. I can. While were playing telephone, do you mind if I connect with Gomorrahs AI directly? Go ahead, I said. Gomorrah looked at me quizzically for a moment before her mouth twisted. Ah, she said. Pleased to meet you, Myalis, she said. The ramen bot juttered, then spoke with a familiar voice. A pleasure to meet you as well, Myalis said. The bot shifted to the side, its head, which was a boxy thing with a pair of sensors and a couple of gang-tags sprayed across it, turned towards me and spoke with a new voice, masculine, and smooth. Greetings, Stray Cat, I am Atyacus, Gomorrahs AI assistant. I nodded. I really wanted to try the windows. Oh well. Get into their system with Myalis help, then if we can spot the girl, we leave and call for the big guns. No girl means we break in and ask them all some questions the old fashion way. The old fashion way? Gomorrah asked. With high explosives, I replied. She shook her head and started to walk off. Ill keep in touch, she said. Atyacus, you staying in that bot? Of course not, the ramen bot said. I turned to it a moment later. So, any idea of what we should be doing? Have you tried our two for one special? Two meat flavour packs for the price of one! the bot said. I rolled my eyes, tipped the rest of the broth in my bowl down my gullet, then did the same to Gomorrahs leftovers because wasting was a sin, then I got up and moved off. We need somewhere to hide in the meantime, I said. Somewhere close to the baddies front door. The nearest business is a nail salon. There are a few other stores on the same floor. I brought my hands up and looked at my nails. You know, Ive never really cared much for nails. More of a Lucy thing. Can I even paint my cyberarms nails? The nails retract to allow plasma cutters to deploy. I bet they dont have that colour at the salon, I said. Right, lets go waste some time then. Some ten minutes later, when I walked in--with Myalis fudging the results of any camera looking my way, of course--the little old lady behind the counter took one look at my organic hand, then started babbling. I dont speak, uh, I looked to the nearest poster, which was covered in some Asian writing. Squiggles. I think that might be racist. Is it racism when youre mocking someones language? I asked. Yes. You learn something new every day, I muttered. So, lady, can you make my fingers pretty? I need to look extra girly before I go blowing things up later. You dont strike me as the girly type. I grinned. Well, If Im real lucky, and Lucys in the right mood, these fingers might end up somewhere girly later. Disgusting. The lady didnt know why I was chuckling, and somehow, that only made it funnier. *** Chapter Twenty-Six - Red Carpet Treatment Chapter Twenty-Six - Red Carpet Treatment Chapter Twenty-Six - Red Carpet Treatment After the end of the second world war and the advent of more advanced weaponry, there was a noticeable shift in the way armed forces reacted. It still took some decades for what is essentially an entirely new SoP to take effect, but by the late 90s most modern militaries understood that a small number of well-equipped soldiers could be used to greater effect than large units of poorly-trained conscripts. In many situations, a small team of well-trained soldiers could make a large, impactful difference. Whether that is taking down a VIT or sabotaging enemy infrastructure, going in silently is not only more effective, it also allows for a degree of denial on the assaulters part. The samurai generally dont fit that bill. Almost universally, they dislike being quiet. Something about their mentality just does not agree with the idea that a problem can be solved without explosions, lasers, or explosive lasers. --Excerpt from An Analysis of the Capability of the Modern Unit vs.The Samurai, 2029 *** I raised my hand and turned it this way and that. My nails shone pretty and rainbow. There was a bit of a holographic effect with them, little hearts in the middle that only showed up at certain angles. Neat, I said. Yes yes, very very pretty, the old woman said. I grinned back at her and looked at the time. It had been a nice way to spend ten minutes. I bet that Lucy would love that kind of pampering too. Maybe we could order one of those massage people in our hotel room. That was a thing that was done... probably. I wasnt up to date on how the rich wasted their credits. Myalis, can you transfer over some credits to the nice lady? I asked. This will basically empty your account. Yeah, but Lucy will like it. The woman looked at me quizzically for a bit, then something in her eyes glowed and her smile only grew. Thank you, honourable customer. You go pinch many bottoms now. Damn right, I said as I shoved off her chair, then stretched. Any news from Gomorrah yet? Atyacus has kept in contact with me this entire time. Theyve reached the appropriate location, though it took convincing a guard to look the other way. A merc guard? I asked. No, the location where Atyacus proposed breaking through the wall is a warehouse for medical supplies. It has twenty-four hour guards and surveillance. I suspect that the Hour Men encouraged the placement of a high-security facility next to their offices to act as a sort of additional deterrent. Atyacus disagrees. Weve been going back and forth for what for you would be subjective years. You do that a lot? I asked. Argue with other AI? We need to do something to pass the time. Arguing online is one of the few hobbies we share with humanity.UppTodated from So we need someone to ask some questions to, I said. I guess Ill knock at their front door. Seriously? Gomorrah asked. I mean, we need to find out, and I dont feel like chasing leads all day. So we ask. Can you take out that tank? I can, Gomorrah said. Most things made of metal will melt eventually, but thats besides the point. How are we going to do this? I leaned to the side and looked down the corridor where the front door of the Hour Man offices was tucked away. It was a heavy-looking door. All steel and bolts. Not terribly decorative either, and I guessed that the walls were filled with fold-out surprises. I fling a bomb at their front wall, then when the dust settles ask to speak to their boss? That sounds like a bit much, Gomorrah said. I rubbed a finger under my nose. They kidnapped a kid. I dont think we need to go in soft and polite. But soft and polite might get us further, Gomorrah said. Hmph. I tapped my fresh nails on the counter for a moment, then nodded. You know what, sure. But you send them a message or whatever. Im not expecting them to exactly roll out the red carpet. These guys had to know what they were doing, and what the reaction of the average samurai would be. In their place, Id start running the moment I found out a samurai was on my tail, and if that meant fighting my way out, then so be it. The dead couldnt be punished. Sending now, Gomorrah said. Im close enough to their lower exit to stop anyone trying to escape that way. Yeah, Im within spitting distance of their front door, I said. I looked around and spotted my crossbow leaning against the backside of the counter. Nearly forgot about it. Would probably have made the old lady rich if I did. I grabbed the crossbow and pulled the bolt on its side back before flicking its safety off with a twitch of my augs. There were a few explosive bolts left in it. Did you send the-- I began. The feeds of the cameras inside the building started to flash. Some sort of silent alarm had gone off and the lights flickered in response was my guess. The fine folks inside the building started running around, picking up weapons and armour even as guns deployed from the walls and ceilings. Well, it doesnt look like theyre agreeing to anything just yet, I said. I stepped out into the corridor. Maybe they would see me standing outside and reconsider things. I kind of expected the guns that deployed from next to the door. I didnt expect the twin punches to my gut that sent me tumbling back with a heavy cough. Laying on the ground, I panted for breath, then touched my chest to confirm that I wasnt bleeding or anything. I found two coin-sized bits of metal flattened over my armour. Okay, I said. Bombs it is. *** Chapter Twenty-Seven - Sometimes a Girl Just Wants to Blow Shit Up Chapter Twenty-Seven - Sometimes a Girl Just Wants to Blow Shit Up Chapter Twenty-Seven - Sometimes a Girl Just Wants to Blow Shit Up There are ten billion people on Earth right now. And, by our best estimates, approximately one in one hundred thousand is a Samurai. Thats point zero-zero-one percent of the worlds population. We see Samurai all over. Getting one to act as a mascot for a corporation is considered a huge victory, and even those that try to avoid the spotlight will still be plastered in gossip rags and talked about on Mesh and internet forums. Samurai are natural-born celebrities. For all that, the likelihood of any one person actually meeting a Samurai in their lifetime is minuscule. I think that this nearly mystical level of rarity just adds to the occultism around the Samurai. --Excerpt from The Cult of the Samurai, 2044 *** I had a bit of a problem. For one, I was on the floor, chest heaving and feeling like I was a bit past the point where I was meant to die. I wasnt dead though, which was nice. That would change very soon if the turrets placed next to the doors decided to open fire again. I had no idea if they could break through my armour, and I didnt feel like finding out. Also, one of them had shot me in the tit and I was betting that would leave a bruise. I raised my cybernetic arm towards the door, and with a flick of my augs, had the top of it open and reveal the rocket launcher within. The rocket came out with a sound like a hollow fart and whistled across the corridor. Then, with an impact that made the floor skip under me, it turned the front wall of the mercs hideout into a nice big crater. The old lady at the nail saloon came rushing out. What is this! I coughed, turned over, then pushed myself up to my feet. Me being a bit dumb, I said. Myalis. A helmet please. Certainly. New Purchase: Mark IV TIGER-C Helmet Points reduced to... 8,366 A box appeared by my feet and I scooped down to pick it up. Youre samurai! the lady said. Yup, I said. Nearly a dead one too. The helmet, of course, had a pair of cat-ear slots on the top, and a sort of mask-like front with a visor over the top of the face. It was sleek, gunmetal highlights, a sapphire visor and that familiar blue steel covering the majority of it. It also had whiskers. Really? Those are very sophisticated devices. They analyse the composition of the air around you and reproduce it within the helmet without any harmful effects. They also detect minute vibrations in the air, making up any losses of audibility caused by covering your ears. I rolled my eyes as I tucked the helmet under one arm, then tied my hair back in a loose bun. On the helmet went. It was a bit snug, but not too much so. The moment it was on the insides inflated and it felt as though someone had buried my face in a layer of pillows. It would do. I started forward. Got something like a gas maybe? To compensate for your awful aim. Thats a good idea. New Purchase: Gas-Bulb, Knock-Out-Bolt Points reduced to... 8,358 I picked up the magazine of bolts, dropped the one that was in Whisper, and slotted the new one in place. Okay then, I said. I had to hop over a hole in the floor near where the grenade had gone off. I could see the floor below, but mostly just the top of some vents and such. It probably wasnt the best thing to do to a buildings structural integrity to blow holes in it. The entrance opened out into a lobby, a large desk, all square and brutalist, a pair of doors leading off to the back, a bathroom off to the side. No benches or anything, but then the type of people coming here wouldnt be sitting down and waiting. I stepped over the bottom half of the guy Id shot, Whisper swaying from left to right as I scanned the room. No one. I was kind of expecting someone to show up, maybe a guard or two? Or maybe they were running down to meet Gomorrah. Can I have that security feed? I asked. A trio of video feeds superimposed themselves over the top of my vision. The next room over front and centre, the next rooms after in the next two boxes. That at least explained where the people were. There were guys dressed in the standard uniform of a lifeless corporate goon. Slacks, a button-up shirt with some cutesy pattern, a too-tight tie. The vests and assault rifles they were grabbing were a bit unusual though. The two men and one woman carrying a crew-gun to the centre of the room where they shoved aside a potted plant and hooked the gun onto a plate on the ground was somewhat more concerning than the rest. I noticed one or two guys dressed more impressively being ushered down some stairs to the floor below. Right, I said. I guess those guys are the VIPs. So lets go get them. You might want to note that the room youre in is currently filling with a nerve agent. What? I asked. Youre wearing a mask. Its a non-issue. I begged to differ. It at least explained why no one was waiting up front. They didnt want to get caught in their own gas. It also explained the masks with rebreather-looking-things the office workers were putting on. Gomorrah, I said. Watch out for gases and such. Theyre using them up here. Noted, came her reply. Im going to pull back and buy something for that. Can you keep the pressure up? Sure thing love, I said. The doors leading into the office proper werent slabs of reinforced steel, just plain old smart-glass doors, currently set to opaque. I made sure my shoulder-mounted guns were ready, then paused. Wait, theyve got masks. I need a different sort of ammo. Again. I was going to point it out. The gas your bolts use is likely to bypass their rudimentary masks, but it will still take longer to affect them. I sighed. Man, I just want to blow things up. Why does everything need to be so complicated? *** Chapter Twenty-Eight - The Opposite of Reassuring Chapter Twenty-Eight - The Opposite of Reassuring Chapter Twenty-Eight - The Opposite of Reassuring In the early 2000s there was a fear that the interconnectivity of the world could lead to trouble. Hacking was portrayed in the media as a new and terrifying crime. The reality was a little more pedestrian at first. A good programmer with malicious intent could maybe steal some files, mess with some machines, or perhaps spy on someone, but other than the occasional virus there wasnt too much to it. Then Augmentations became a new standard. Everyone had one, and the world became far, far more digital. By the 2030s one in ten people in the world had an aug. By 2040 that was up to four in ten. When 2050 rolled around, nine in ten people had an augmentation of some sort, most of them used to keep connected to local or international networks, social media, and other feeds. Hackers, those who knew what they were doing, could now turn a persons entire life into a living nightmare. --Excerpt from The Rise of the Aug, 2052 *** My plan, insofar as I had one, was simple. Burst in, fire a few bolts into the room, then unload my railgun into the turret they were still setting up. It was a nice plan because I got to shoot things. I raised a booted foot, prepared to kick at the door, then I hesitated. It didnt look like a door with an actual lock on it. After making sure that my shoulder-mounted guns were set properly, I held Whisper close with one hand, then turned the door handle. A shove had the door moving in and got some of the office workers inside to look up. Hey guys! I said. My railgun thumped and the gun emplacement in the middle of the room burst apart as a tiny bit of metal moving absurdly fast poked a hole through the middle of it. Whisper came up and I aimed more-or-less in the direction of the first idiots to bring their guns to bear. The first bolt I fired thumped into and through a cubical wall, the next rammed into a projector box and fritzed it out. Myalis, masks, I said. Fortunately, Myalis seemed to get what I meant. The gun on my opposite shoulder burped, twitched, then burped again. All across the room, masks were shredded apart as Myalis fired through them. I was expecting the room to fill with gas or something, but there wasnt anything like that. The nearest office worker opened fire with an SMG and I ducked back out of the room and moved away from the doorway before I got sprayed. Myalis, why isnt that room filled with gas? I asked. It should be. If youre wondering why you cant see it... you are aware that not all gases are visible to the naked human eye, right? Oh, I said. I was expecting... I dont know, orange-yellow gas or something.Geett the latest novels at novelhall.com So that anyone you face can see the gas and react to it? Its always colourful in the movies, I said. Im sure. I snorted and moved over to the door opposite the one Id barged in from. Bringing the camera feed back revealed that two of the office workers on the other side had already slumped over, and the rest looked drunk. A clever one by the back had switched his mask out for a less holey one, but he was still stumbling about. Opening the door slowly and quietly, I flicked on the invisibility on my jacket and held Whisper close. There was a neat puncture that was visually warped where Id been shot early. Annoying that. Id need to replace the jacket at some point. All individuals within the Hour Men Mercenary building are now officially notified that the following Samurai wish to question you: Stray Cat Please surrender. Lower all weapons, remove all offensive equipment from your person, and prepare for arrest and questioning. Refusal to comply will be met with the wrath of god. Damn G-girl, I said. Way to be polite and non-threatening there. Very diplomatic of you. Vanguard are not chosen for their diplomatic abilities. I let out a rather inappropriate giggle at that. A message was just sent out. Unsecured transmission. Its addressed to you and Gomorrah. Huh, I said. Can I hear it? I asked. Its text. Displaying it now. Dear Stray Cat and Gomorroah, Go fuck yourselves. Gomorrah sighed. How polite. So do we just burn them all or are we going to try something else? I considered it for a moment before replying. Im going to set a bomb up here by the door. Myalis, are they watching us? Negative. Right. So, bomb by the door here. Then... I think I might come in through a window after all. If we can knock them out peacefully... ish, then we can ask them some questions later. While theyre tied to a chair or something. Got that Gomorrah? I could feel her hesitating for a moment. It might work. I dont like the idea of you hanging off the side of this building while they know were assaulting them. Ah, dont worry, I said. Ive never done anything like this. Thats the opposite of reassuring. Snorting, I knelt down next to the door and flicked off the coms between myself and Gomorrah. Ill need a grenade. Motion sensor activated. Maybe... more knock-out gas? Something thatll keep people rooted here. Oh, those sticky bombs would do. Certainly. Two purchases later, and down to eight-thousand three-fifty, I was setting up a surprise for anyone that came upstairs. Alright, I said as I got back up. Bringing up the building plans helped pinpoint where the windows on the floor below were located. The nearest one that matched above was in the conference room. Time to swing on down and say hello to everyone downstairs. *** Chapter Twenty-Nine - Spider Cat ~ Spider Cat Chapter Twenty-Nine - Spider Cat ~ Spider Cat Chapter Twenty-Nine - Spider Cat ~ Spider Cat The rich get richer. Thats kind of just a thing. The super rich get higher. Not just metaphorically, but literally too. Life on Earth is generally acknowledged to be rather awful. So why not leave? With over twenty low-orbit installations, and an entire resort on the Moon and Mars*, Tesla-Travel Corp has you covered! *as of 2039 all Mars expeditions are cancelled.Geett the latest novels at novelhall.com --Ad for Moon Colony Alpha and former Mars Colony Bet, 2039. *** New Purchase: Tree Cat Grapple System Points Reduced to... 8003 The system was built like a backpack with some straps that went around the chest. It was fitted for me, which was handy because I couldnt imagine fitting something so tight on without it bruising my already sensitive chest. I stared at the two hooks that stuck out from the backpack with some degree of confusion. They were bulbous things, with little glass bits and a bunch of slots on them. Okay, I said. I have no idea how these work. Theyre multi-function hooks. Pressing them against a stud will launch a drill that will grab on. Leaving them loose will deploy some hooks from within, and the end is a sort of sponge that can fill with a powerful adhesive to cling onto a surface. Theyre meant to be usable in any situation. Well, thats neat, but where do I hook them if I dont want to die? Please look at the wire-map of the building, Ill highlight the location of load-bearing supports. Press the hooks against those walls and they will grab on. Seeing as how I didnt feel like falling to my death, I followed Myalis instructions, setting up the two hooks to burrow into the walls, then I trailed out the lines, still connected to the pack, all the way over to the window. It wasnt the sort of window meant to be opened. No one sane wanted to get a fresh breeze of smog into their air-conditioned office. So I got Whisper out, loaded one of the explosive bolts into it over the sleeping gas bolts, and blew one of the windows off. Whats taking you so long? Gomorrah asked. Im trying to make it so that I dont turn into so much mulch on hitting the ground, I said. Well hurry up, Gomorrah said. I stepped onto the window-sill, the cords from the grapple system trailing out behind me, then, with a step over the edge, I placed my foot down on the wall below and dropped out of the building. The system gave me just enough slack that I was able to stand straight on the side of the building, my front facing the long drop below and my feet, with my awesome boots, planted on the wall. I had to take a step as a blast of wind shoved me to the side. Rolling over, I slid up behind a couch, then undid the clasps at the front of my backpack. Theyre here! In the lounge! Barricade those doors! Did they come from above or below? Cameras are still down. I snorted as I left the grapple pack on the ground next to me and stood up. Theyre really panicking, huh? It seems so. Get the rocket launchers! I frowned. Hmm. That didnt sound like something I could tank. Myalis, I need a gas grenade. Certainly. Do you want the gas to be coloured? I mean... that would be pretty cool, I admitted. New Purchase: Knock-Out Gas Grenade: Pink Points Reduced to: 7998 I picked up the grenade off the ground before me and primed it. Thanks. A jog over to the door later, and I leaned Whisper to the side, pulled out my Trench Maker, and punched a couple of holes into the door before flinging the grenade into the room. You know, I dont think you deserve any title related to stealth after all. Its proactive stealth, I said as a plume of pinkish smoke wafted out of the hole in the door. The one problem with colourful gas was that it made seeing enemy movement on their cameras a real pain. Seeing them panic and rush away from the gas was kinda funny though, in a cathartic way. The guys at the gun emplacements rushed back into the main corridor, then stumbled back and away from the spreading pink cloud. The ventilation system was doing a good job of sucking it away, but a few unlucky idiots had still been caught in the smoke and were dropping here and there. I kicked the door in, then rushed into the corridor. My cybernetic eye did something that turned the world to monochrome but made it easier to see through the smoke. The mercs had moved to two rooms. An office and a washroom of all things. The washroom had one of those doors with a vent at the bottom. A kick and it bent in, so I fired a bolt into the hole and moved on just as they opened fire on the door. Moving fast, I rushed over to the office, rammed the door with Whispers butt, then fired a bolt into the room while the guys within panicked. I kept moving, not wanting to stick around when they tried to shoot back. Gomorrah, I said as I moved to the end of the corridor. There were some automated turrets here and there, but they were all conspicuously quiet. I think the floors cleared. *** Chapter Thirty - Blueprint for Success Chapter Thirty - Blueprint for Success Chapter Thirty - Blueprint for Success With Samurai providing the blueprints, all sorts of technological advancements once thought impossible suddenly became possible. Though just because humanity, or at least some parts of it, knew how to build these things didnt mean that they could. Exotic materials, incredibly tight and precise machining requirements, and the need to build entire facilities just to build the parts to build the devices we wanted took some time to develop. A lot of the technology we have blueprints for we simply cant construct yet. --Excerpt from Building the Future, 2041 *** My idea of a cleared floor did not, apparently, satisfy Gomorrah in the least. I wondered if she learned how to nag at nun-school while listening to her complain about how I hadnt even checked every room and corner before declaring the area safe. She poked her head into every room, looked at every nook and cranny, and casually melted the turrets that Myalis had deactivated. I left her to it and started dragging the mercs over to the lounge Id burst in from. I figured the me-sized hole in the window would help with ventilation. Their guns were tossed into the armoury, which had a door Myalis could lock on command. In the end, we had a dozen mercenaries, all stacked up in one room and with no gear that looked dangerous. Gomorrah paced for a bit, then pointed to one guy in particular. He had a bit of a five-o''clock shadow, and was wearing a rather sleek suit that was getting crumpled on account of him laying on the floor. That guy seems important. He was moved down here by the others, and I saw him giving orders. So hes the boss, I said. Maybe? Atyacus hasnt found much about him. His social media feed is pretty much empty. Theres not much to find about him other than birth records and some medical things. Nothing interesting unless you want to know that he had a hernia a year back. I snorted and bent down to pull the guy up. The bastard was heavy, even dragging him by his lapels onto the rooms couch was a strain. Once he was sitting down I tapped his cheeks, but that didnt seem to work. Myalis, what do I need to wake this guy up? The knock-out gas you used will wear off within another four to six hours. Oh, sure, I guess well just make ourselves comfortable then, I said. The snark is unnecessary. I find it fun, I defended myself. So, anything I need to wake this guy up within the next couple of minutes? Weve been fooling around a bit, but we are on something of a schedule. Of course you do. Theres a rather cheap product from your Class I Medical Utilities that can solve this. Its only one point. Overuse of it has some rather terrible consequences on ones health, but I dont think thats an actual concern here. Alright, gimme one. New Purchase: Wake Up Points Reduced to: 7997 A box appeared on the sofa next to the comatose guy. On opening it I found a plastic device the size of an inhaler, with a soft pad on one end and a large button on the other. Potty Mouth squirmed. I dont know where she is. I can tell you where she was delivered, but thats it. But, but, he said when Gomorrah lowered her arm to point it at him. But, they were a lot sloppier than we were. And you found us, so... Right, I agreed. And the who? Sunrise Weapons, Potty Mouth said. They make light-based weapons. Chemical lasers and electrical arc emplacements. Experimental stuff from blueprints bought off some Samurai. And they wanted the girl, why? I asked. He shook his head. We didnt ask. They wanted her intact. Any new samurai intact. Along with anyone near them. We took the dog because it was close and she seemed attached to it. No shit, I said. Standing taller, I reached to rub my eyes, remembered that I had a helmet on, then let my arm drop. Damn. Okay. You got the drop-off location? More importantly, do you know which division of the company you worked for? Gomorrah asked. They have a few installations that are on public record. I doubt they have cells in their accounting offices, but Id like to narrow it down some more. Potty Mouth hummed. It was their R&D, I think. But not the main one. I think they got a second group just for this. Most people wouldnt agree to work on a samurai. I wonder why? I said, voice as flat as it could go. Myalis, you remember that big gun I bought the other day? The one that I never got to fire? Are you talking about the decoy railgun? Thats the one. I need a bomb from the same set. Something with decent motion sensors on it. I think I understand. W-what are you doing? Potty Mouth asked. I pat him on the head. Youll see, I said. New Purchase: Decoy Bomb Points Reduced to: 7995 The bomb was an elaborate affair, with a steel case and a few canisters connected to a screen in the middle. A silvery ball sat atop it, spinning around and scanning the room with a red beam like one of those barcode scanners at a grocers. I placed it on the coffee table in the middle of the room. Right. You stay here, Potty Mouth, I said. Well be activating this as soon as were out of the room. Maybe dont move? I gestured to the door with a thumb, and Gomorrah walked out ahead of me. Ive got your number, I said before shutting the door. It didnt do much to stop his protests. A loud beep from the bomb shut him up though. Lets go see Sunrise about a girl, I said. *** Chapter Thirty-One - Obsolete Worries Chapter Thirty-One - Obsolete Worries Chapter Thirty-One - Obsolete Worries Never question a Samurai about what they might think are personal things. This means that you should avoid the following topics: -Religion -Abortion -Politics -Economics -Sexuality These are subjects that tend to spark debates with our clients, and that can worsen their mood and generally make them uncomfortable. In the very worst cases, they might decide that they ought to do something about a perceived issue. We at Welcome Inn International do not want to be held responsible for the destruction of any religious organizations or the toppling of local governments. Remember your three Cs: Courtesy, Care, Common Sense. --Part of a training manual for Welcome Inn International staff, 2046 *** It felt a bit strange just walking out of the Hour Men headquarters. We just went up one floor and left out the main entrance. I even waved to the old lady at the nail salon on the way out. There was a squad of Police-Tech enforcers rushing over to the scene, but when they saw us they averted their eyes and rushed to cordon off the area without so much as trying to stop us. Gomorrah stretched her arms up until her back popped audibly. That was interesting, she said. It was, I guess, I said. I shifted a bit to get the grapple pack I was carrying to sit better over my shoulder. I wasnt sure wed get anything out of it, but... yeah. A name and all that. You were told to find the girl by someone, right? Gomorrah asked. I nodded. Deus Ex. It was her job, but she dropped it on my head because shes a little shit. In that case you should probably inform her of our progress so far. Make sure were all on the same page. Shouldnt I call her after we save the girl? I asked. Gomorrah shook her head. No, this way if something goes wrong, you get to share the blame around a bit more. Havent you ever had a job before? Someone tried to jack your wheels, I said. Gomorrahs fists tightened. I recognized some of the punks as we got closer. They were the same lot that wed run into on the way down, plus maybe half a dozen members. Yo! I called out. Did you never watch one of those kids shows that teach you about not touching other peoples shit? I asked. We got quite a few glares. One of them, one that hadnt been there earlier, stepped up. He was a mountain of a man, covered in glowing tattoos and equipped with a pair of cybernetic arms that looked like theyd been torn off a cargo-lift bot. You killed one of ours, he grumbled. We cant let that kind of shit fly. I reached over my shoulder and unslung Whisper. Without actually raising the weapon I turned off the safety with my augs and pulled the trigger. A bolt smacked into the ground, then bounced off the cement floor with a clatter. A few of the punks giggled. If you knock them out, I wont feel good burning them, Gomorrah said. You mean you wouldnt feel bad burning them otherwise? She shrugged. If they put up a fight. They tried to steal Righteous Fury. The big guy at the front grunted as he crashed to the floor. Some of his buddies went down quietly, but a few of them tried to run. They didnt make it far before whatever amount of knock-out gas was in them took them out. Thats a bit much. Its just a car. A very nice car, but still. I dont think you understand the relationship a woman can have with a vehicle this gorgeous, Gomorrah said. I shook my head and stepped over a few bodies on my way to the passenger side. You make it sound like you want to marry this thing.... Please tell me you dont actually get off to a car. I mean, theres kinky, then theres just weird. And you already have that pyromania fetish. I dont have a pyromania fetish. And I dont get off to my car. Thats just weird. Do the seats have a massage feature? I asked as I ducked in. I tossed my gear to the back then looked at Gomorrah who was grabbing the wheel. I mean, technically. Damn Gomorrah, I said with a laugh. Are you that repressed? Im not repressed, she said a little too fast. Sure, sure. You get your lover moving, Ill call up Deus Ex. Fury isnt my lover. Fine, your mobile sex toy then. Its unchristian-like to hate someone, but I might make an exception for you. *** Chapter Thirty-Two - Basse Couture Chapter Thirty-Two - Basse Couture Chapter Thirty-Two - Basse Couture Car culture is strange. Samurai car culture takes that to a whole new level. They tend to be at least mildly competitive, which means that we occasionally get to observe two Samurai trying to one-up each other with increasingly wild rides. These cars dont tend to stay cars for very long, not when walking mecha, flying tanks, literal airships and space-capable craft are some of the easier ways to escalate. --J. P. Kafka on the evolution of car culture, Jan 2038 *** I leaned back into the molded seat and tapped my fingers on the armrests as I thought. Fun and games aside, we were on a mission. We had to run over and save Katallina. It felt as if we were getting close. Deus Ex had dumped the mission on my lap that morning, and now we were nearing the afternoon. About noon now. What was Katallina thinking? Stuck, captured, and no doubt far from comfortable for well over a day now. Id be losing my mind in her place. The problem was, Samurai needed points to solve all their ills, and she couldnt have more than a few dozen from what Id seen. Youre quiet, Gomorrah said as she let go of the controls. Were cruising. I set us on a circular path until we figure out our next step. Mmm, I agreed. Thats fine. I was just thinking. Myalis, can you gather up everything weve learned so far in like, a packet or something? Send it to Deus Ex and Longbow. The nerds too. Nerds? Gomorrah asked. Lag and Dial-Up, I said. Theyre a pair of Samurai that basically live in the Mesh. You know a lot of Samurai, Gomorrah said. Just the five, I said. Thats more than I know, she said. I guess I get around, I replied with a grin. Gomorrah crossed her arms. Disgusting, she muttered. Incoming call. One moment. The cars dashboard, already covered in displays and analogue switches and all sorts of buttons and screens, lit up as a hologram appeared standing above it. A foot-tall Deus-Ex wearing a frankly adorable pout as she sat on one of her huge floating guns. Stray Cat, I saw your package. I stared. You going to rephrase that? Ill park Gods Righteous Fury near them. I can always just launch a few rockets at the building and drive in if I want. Now whos bloodthirsty. Gomorrah sniffed. I paid for the rocket launchers, I intend to use them. I raised both hands in surrender. Fine, whatever. Just dont blow me up, alright. The twin joysticks slid out from the dash before her and Gomorrah grabbed on. Soon, we were dropping out of traffic and shooting across the city. I was almost used to her insane driving. Almost. I winced as Gomorrah cut a corner so close that the side of the car clipped through a holographic ad hovering next to a building. Right, I need a distraction. Myalis, can you bring up the blueprints that Deus Ex got? Certainly. Ive colour-coded it for ease of understanding. And Ive replaced all the big words with little ones. I chose to take the high-ground and not comment on any of that as I took in the map hovering before me. It wasnt an actual projection, just a display on my augs that moved as if I was looking at a fixed object. The base... lab... thing, was a small-ish complex set on a single level that took up the majority of a buildings floor plan. It had a few office-like spaces near the entrance, then was divided into sections. One looked like a set of labs, the next had break rooms and washrooms as well as a few conference areas and smaller offices, and then a second lab area, this one less of an open-concept area and more a series of small rooms connected by a t-shaped corridor. Katallina was in one of those rooms, in one that was divided in half with a cell at one end and the entrance at the other. There were cameras here and there, but they had blindspots, and the only place with any sort of security was the main entrance. Yeah, that looks easy to break into, I said. Not very secure. Could it be a trap? It seems as though someone embezzled some of the funds originally intended to keep the complex secure. It has recently been used mostly to test a few non-lethal light-deterrent weapons. Nothing that would excite the competition too much. I think the main thing keeping the complex safe so far is the lack of interesting things to steal from it. Thats one way to keep safe, I muttered. But now they have a kid Samurai. What the hell are they planning? According to the files of the project lead, they want to indoctrinate her, then use her to purchase low-tier weapons and blueprints only slightly above the companys current manufacturing capabilities. He wishes to make these inventions seem as if theyre innovations from Sunrise Weapons R&D. Thats... it? I asked. Its not a company-wide thing? It seems as if few members of the upper echelons in the company are in on the plan. Theyre moronic, I said. Wait, how do you know? The complexs networks are connected to the internet. The lead researchers password is his cats birthday. You mean this entire thing was started by a bunch of fuckwits? Was there any doubt? *** Chapter Thirty-Three - Stealth, But For Real This Time Chapter Thirty-Three - Stealth, But For Real This Time Chapter Thirty-Three - Stealth, But For Real This Time While its true that every Samurai is very much unique, you can still observe some patterns in their collective behaviour. Notably, their spending habits tend to fall into two broad categories: Those who purchase new equipment frequently. And those who find a tried and true style, and keep to it until they need to adapt. --Excerpt from On the Habits of Gods, 2046 *** Gomorrah parked near ground level, right up against the side of a building and halfway into a traffic lane. Something in her car had all the trucks behind us funnel around to give us some room. So, youll go up, and Ill see about clearing an escape route? Gomorrah asked. Thats the whole of it, yeah, I said. I stepped out of Gods Righteous Fury, then took off my coat. It had a few holes in it; annoying ones that I found way too obvious even when the rest of it was invisible. Can you stay here for a bit? I asked. I can, Gomorrah said. Whats up? I flung my coat onto the passenger seat, then stretched a bit. Need new gear. Do you have the points for it? Also, that jacket had better not be dirty, she warned. Its probably not, I said. And yeah, got... just shy of eight thousand to spend. Christ. I leaned down to look into the car. Gomorrah had a hand over the mouth of her mask. You stub your toe or something? Thats a lot of points. Why havent you spent them yet? Catherine, Myalis said from the cars speakers. Is exceptionally frugal for a Vanguard. Foolishly so. That AI would have me burning all of my points as soon as I get them, I said. Money and points are for saving. You never know when youll need them. Like right now. Gomorrah leaned back. Well, hurry up. And please dont take off any more clothes than you already have. No cameras on the outside of your ride? I asked. There are plenty. I dont want to soil them with images of you undressed. Gomorrah flicked a switch and the door next to me snapped shut with a hiss.Re?a?d new chapters at novelhall.com I showed the side of her car my finger, knowing that she could see it in full 8K from where she sat. Rude, I said. So, Myalis, I need gear. Im always ready to accommodate. Youre looking for stealth-specialized equipment? And a new jacket, I said. I think Ill give that other one to Lucy? The bullet holes give it a certain look when its not invisible. Shall I inform Lucy that you want to see less of her? Handgun (currently have 1x holsters empty)Coat. Possibly Stealth-Tech.Ammunition (Trench Maker + Arm launcher)Additional protectionAdditional firepower Lets start from the top then, I said as I started towards an elevator. It was one of those big cage-y ones that you could lose an arm with by sticking it out through the bars. Why do you think I need a second handgun? You have two arms and two slots in your holster. Thats a great reason to have more guns, I said. Wasnt exactly hard to convince me. I want something really cool. How incredibly vague. And not cat-themed. That significantly reduces my options. I chuckled. Come on, there has to be something else? Very well. Perhaps as an alternative to your Trench Maker which can use nearly any sort of ammunition, a more specialized handgun? The Victorious Model Seven. Its a handgun that fires subsonic osmium rounds through a barrel that is essentially one large suppressor. So it fires a big heavy bullet but doesnt make much noise? I asked. Any noise. Also, the gun only fires smart rounds. They have small ailerons that can turn and adjust the trajectory of the round mid-flight in order to curve towards your intended target. Perfect for someone whose aim is as creative as yours. Adjustable rate of fire. Cyclical, single-use twenty round magazines. The only issue is the guns weight when fully loaded. Though that does help with its recoil. Sounds cool enough, I said. How much? Eighty points. That was getting a little expensive. Not crazy-expensive, but on the higher end of things. Then again, it wasnt even a hundreth of what I had. Sure, and enough magazines to fill my holster. New Purchase: Victorious - Model Seven Points Reduced to: 7865 I paused and raised both hands just in time for a neat little box to fall into them. Popping the surprisingly hefty box open revealed a sleek handgun. All angular and sharp, with a rectangular barrel and angled grip. The top had a sort of tiny scope, glassy at one end and flat at the other. I held it out before me and a holo-graphic sight appeared above it. Nice, I said. There wasnt much to shoot at though, so I stuffed it away into my shoulder holster after making sure the safety was on. I picked up the next two things to drop before me. Two rather heavy magazines that I handed to the little grabby arms of my holsters even as I walked out into a space with wall-to-wall vending machines and a few dozen street rats mingling around. They eyed me, I grinned back. They couldnt see it through the helmet, but I liked to imagine that some of the expression came through. I need a jacket, I said. A badass one. Another wonderfully precise description. Youre usually pretty good, I said. And no cat themes. Youre ruining my fun. Deal with it. *** Chapter Thirty-Four - Thump Chapter Thirty-Four - Thump Chapter Thirty-Four - Thump For a period of time, it was common practice to think of the human element as the weakest link in any security system. That changed when technology grew complex enough that no one could predict the exact loyalties of their own devices. As it turns out, humans might be a weak link, but theyre one that is understandable and predictable. --Anonymous during a virtual hacker conference, 2054 *** You know what I want? I asked as I weaved through a line that cut across a corridor. It ended at one of those corporate soup kitchens. People filled out forms on some tablets at the end of the line, then got their vouchers for a free meal. I can only guess. Well, I need a new jacket for one, I said. Something... like my last one, maybe? A bit cooler? Maybe semi-armoured? But yeah, I need that. But what I really want is a grenade launcher. You want a grenade launcher. Somehow, that wasnt in the top percentile of things I expected to hear, but I suppose it makes sense. You are aware that you are essentially on a stealth mission? Do you expect this mission to not involve high explosives at some point? I asked. That is a very fair point. I have a few questions to narrow down exactly what sort of launcher you need. How accurate do you want the weapon to be? What are your tolerances for size? Are there any particular things you want this weapon to do? I thought for a second. I want something that makes that cool thump sound. Maybe some rapid-ish fire? And something thats easy to reload? I see. I think you may need to purchase a new catalogue for that. Might I suggest the rather generic Explosive Launchers class? The first tier costs seventy-five points. Alright, fine. Class I Explosive Launchers Unlocked! Points reduced to... 7790 Now, as for an actual weapon. I suggest the Icarus Mark II. Its a one-hundred point grenade-launching rifle. Rather slim, with a titanium chassis. The magazine holds eighteen rounds, which can be fired in single shot, or in three-round bursts. Thats a lot of grenades, I said. They pack just as much punch as larger ones. I think youll find the weapon enjoyable. It has a rather high skill-ceiling, but youll learn. And there are special ammunitions that you can purchase that have multiple uses. More standard explosive rounds are significantly more expensive, of course, and you can use any kind of explosive from your Class one Esoteric Single-Use Explosive Devices catalogue. I paused for a moment and glanced at the wire-map of the area to make sure I was heading the right way. Does it look cool? No cat stuff on it? ... Certain changes can be made to remove any such decorations. Snorting, I moved over to an elevator bank, then waited for one to come down. Sure then. New Purchase: Icarus Grenade Launcher Platform At the end of the next corridor, right? I asked as I took off to my left. The new coat swished quite satisfyingly as I walked. Indeed. Now would be a good time to test your new cloaking device. I agreed. With a twitch of my eye, I brought up the menu for all of my gear with my augs and looked at the new icon for my cloak. It was just a floating image of the belt-buckle-like device. The menu that brought up was a long list of options. It was like looking at an extended list of halloween costumes. Ah, I said. Thats a lot of choices. I have access to their network. Do you want me to create a cover for you that should get you past their security? Sounds perfect, I said as I flicked out of the menu. Too much choice was too much. The entrance to Sunshine Weapons R&D lab was a plain lobby. A pair of sliding doors that led to a security checkpoint, then a corridor deeper into the labs. Just as I rounded the corner, I noticed my everything shifting and when I looked down, it was to see that I was wearing something different. Clothes on top of my clothes. It looked like I was in a plain overall, with a logo-covered jacket atop it, and the gun bouncing by my side now looked like a case. I stepped into the first room, then had to wait a moment until one of the guards by the front desk waved me in. You already have an appointment here, and Ive cracked their security. Just act natural and you should be fine. Moving up to the security desk, I faced the sleepy looking guy behind it and waved. Hey there, I said, trying to sound friendly but professional. Just an eager young technician or whatever. Youre from... he paused and looked at his screen. SuperCat, Animal Care and Grooming Co.? I flinched. Y-yup, I said. Whats with the helmet? I glanced to the side. On the cameras behind the guys desk was an image of me wearing a plain white helmet, still with the cat-ears. Its for, uh, protection. While handling animals. Really? he asked. Yeah, really. Corporate protocol, you know? I was going to drown Myalis, the fact she was in my head be damned. Hmm, yeah. Wanna pass through the scanner? Put your bag on the side there. He pointed to an x-ray machine, with a walk-through scanner next to it. I put my gun on the black threads, then stepped through the scanner. The x-ray that I saw on his screen looked nothing like a high-tech grenade launcher, and a lot more like a bag full of stuff. Right, you can go. I made it halfway down the corridor before I huffed. I hate you. I sent the recording to Lucy already. I really hate you. *** Chapter Thirty-Five - Dog Gone Wrong Chapter Thirty-Five - Dog Gone Wrong Chapter Thirty-Five - Dog Gone Wrong At some point, the last of the Boomers finally passed away, and the traditions of the workspace largely faded with their passing. This ushered in a new era of business-philosophy, where the styles of the late 1900s were largely discarded. In some ways, this was an improvement. Management was generally more aware of issues with the environment, with the mental health of their employees, and of the kind of issues that could be caused by social movements. Their answers were to hide any environmental impacts, to pre-emptively fire any stressed employees, and to quash any social movements before they took off. --Business Outsider, 2047Re?a?d new chapters at novelhall.com *** My entire life, Id walked into places where I really shouldnt have been. Usually in parts of the city that werent welcoming to a one-armed girl whose only weapon was a sharp tongue. More recently, as a Samurai, Id been a bit more liberal with my travelling. Running around as if it didnt matter that I wasnt allowed to be where I was. It was a bit weird, but, in those moments, I was still myself. Now I felt off. I was essentially in a costume, marching down the corridors of a complex and getting a bit lost while crossing by scientists and technicians who never gave me more than a second glance. If they noticed that I felt uncomfortable, they didnt comment on it at all. My eyes twitched as I brought up a map of the facility. It wasnt big enough to really get lost in, but there were more doors sealing off the different sections than Id expected. Not that they impeded me much. The doors had electronic locks so laughably cheap that I probably could have broken through with a crowbar. Having Myalis break into them was just overkill. I reached the back of the facility in a little while. There were fewer people here, and those that I saw were often sitting in little labs, or typing away in front of computers. For all the labcoats I saw, there didnt seem to be that much science-y stuff going on. I was expecting a whole lot more bubbling solutions and bunsen burners, but maybe I shouldnt have been setting my standards based on pirated cartoons. There were a lot more workshop-looking places, so for all I knew the place was doing more engineering-ish science than... other sorts of science. God damn it, I muttered. Is something wrong? Lucy was right. She is rather clever, so that isnt too surprising. What was she right about this time? My educations kinda shit, I said. That is correct, yes. Are you considering going to school? Urgh, I said. I stepped to the side and moved over towards a janitors closet as a trio of guys moved by. Two of them were in suits, the last in a lab-coat. They barely looked at me as I opened the door to the closet and looked inside, trying to look busy. They were heading in the same direction Id been moving in, which was a bit annoying. Yeah, she might be right, but I dont know about that, I said. If they heard me, theyd probably assume I was on the line with someone, which wasnt technically wrong. Perhaps a non-traditional education then? The human propensity to teach people in groups is efficient on a large scale, but given the opportunity, being taught directly is far more effective for a given individual. So, like, online classes? I asked. Those were pretty popular. Wed taken some at the orphanage whenever a new pandemic sprung up. I rolled my eyes, then brought the gun up. It made a handy little red line appear in my vision, arcing where the grenade would go. So I made it overlap with Jerkwads head. A squeeze, and the Icarus shook three times as a trio of grenades thumped out of it. The first smacked Jerkwad in the side of the head and sent him tumbling down with a scream. I snorted as the hall filled with the hissing of pressurized gas. Sleep tight, assholes, I said as I lowered the launcher and started forward. They looked like they wanted to protest, but were too busy stumbling around drunkenly to do anything of the sort. By the time I reached the door theyd been standing before they were on the ground, drooling and insensate. Can you break into their augs? I asked Myalis. Kinda curious to know who these idiots are. Easily done. Anything you want to know in particular? I thought about it. No, not really. Just empty their bank accounts. Into your own? That makes me sound greedy. Split it into thirds? A chunk for me, one for Gomorrah, and the rest to the girl. I poked the door. It was a heavy metal thing, more fit for a prison than a room. The electronic lock next to it flashed green the moment I glanced at it. Myalis work, I guessed as I pulled it open. Just like Deus Ex scans showed, it wasnt a very large space. Half the room had a few cupboards and some chairs. The other half had a cot and a little toilette behind a thick plastic wall. A girl was on the cot, her head rising as she looked over at me. She glared. I stepped in and closed the door. Hows the gas in here? I asked. I suspect the air on her side is filtered, otherwise she would be knocked out already. Thats annoying, I said. How long will we have to wait? The gas is meant to stay around an area for some time. Its more effective that way. I should note that, while Ive shut off the facilitys security, there''s a chance someone will notice the bodies. I nodded along. Hey, kid, can you hear me? I asked. She glared harder, which was a yes in my book. A dogs head rose up from the blankets next to her. They hadnt killed the mutt. That was nice. Right, I said. A flick through my augs and my disguise flicked off. My names Stray Cat. Im a friend. You ready to blow this joint? Shes not a Vanguard. I froze for just a second. You sure? Wait, yeah, of course you are. Then.... I moved closer to the glass door. No matter what, Id still save the girl. Hey, kid, you were near another samurai during that incursion, right? She swallowed, then got up. Her outfit had been replaced by some scrubs at some point, all off-green and tacky looking as hell. Who the hell are you? Oh, great, another kid with an attitude, I muttered. This days just perfect. *** Chapter Thirty-Six - Catkiller Chapter Thirty-Six - Catkiller Chapter Thirty-Six - Catkiller Our weakness? You want me to just tell you what Samurai are weak against? Well, I suppose... awkwardness? --Guillotine, interview with Star-Spangled Monthly, 2029 *** There were all sorts of things I could have handled. Katallina being angry at me. Her throwing a tantrum. Having her curse me out. All reactions Id seen from my kittens plenty of times. They were outlets to anger and sadness that I got. I could deal with snark, it was how I did emotions. Katallina looked at me, then her eyes got wet and she started to cry. I didnt do crying. Lucy did crying.Th.e? most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m If a kitten cried, it was Lucy that did the hugging and the shushing and all that junk. Ah, fuck, I said. Uh, shit, its okay, kid? I tried. Somehow that didnt work. I looked around, but other than her dog, there wasnt much to see. Shit, uh, look, youre safe, alright? I asked. Im gonna slip you, and your dog I guess, a mask, and we can both leave this place, okay? She bawled harder. Interesting. What? I asked. I started looking for catalogues that could improve maternal instincts or help people in emotional distress, but other than some drug cocktails I cant find anything very relevant. Its an oversight I dont think we were expecting. A complaint has been filed. Thats nice, I deadpanned. I reached up to run my hands through my hair, bumped my helmet, then groaned. Okay, okay. Hey, kid, you hear me? The girl nodded. She was ugly crying, and she was just old enough that it wasnt even passably cute. Okay, look, Ive got some questions, alright? I asked. Katallina snorted some and I sighed as I backed up. Myalis, can you connect me to Gomorrah? Certainly. Thanks, I said. Something pinged and I sighed again because I was in that sort of mood. Yo, G-girl, I said. I recall telling you not to call me that. Or some variation thereof, Gomorrah said. Yup. I recall not recalling that. So, uh, found the girl, and the dog. Neither are Vanguards. I... wait, Myalis, is the dog? No. The dog is not a Vanguard. Gomorrah hummed. Interesting. So, where is our wayward Samurai? Thats a question, isnt it? I muttered. I tapped on the glass of the chamber. Hey, kid, uh... shit, I dont know where to start. Look, were looking for someone, a Samurai. The one that gave you that gun you had. Do you know where they are? Hes dead, Katallina said. The monsters ate him. Uh, I said. Do you know who he was? His name? She nodded. Randall, he was from 2B. I can. Are you talking to yourself? Katallina asked. She looked concerned. New Purchase: Hazard Mask Points reduced to... 7520 New Purchase: Hazard Mask - Canid Modified Points reduced to... 7510 Two boxes plopped onto the ground of the cell, and Katallina jumped. You actually are a samurai, she said. What did you think? Shitty cosplayer. God save me from little shits with attitude, I muttered. Put on the fucking masks. Do you have any idea of how ironic it is that you want saving from children with attitudes? You calling me a child? I asked. That would be insulting children everywhere. I scoffed, but couldnt hold back a chuckle. You ready? I asked. Katallina was strapping a mask over her dogs snout. It seemed very okay with the bulbous mask. Its tail was wagging, anyway, which I figured meant it was alright. My experience with actual dogs was pretty limited. Id pet one or two when I ran across them, but for the most part I spent more time seeing dogs in my media feed than interacting with them. They were something of a luxury, needing space, and food, and grooming. The sort of person that had time for that wasnt the sort of person living in the same space as the orphanage. Whats its name? I asked. The dog? Katallina asked. He belonged to Miss Rupert next door. She was nice, let us play with him and take him out for walks. She died. His name is Catkiller. I groaned. My life was a joke. Myalis got the door opened, and judging by how neither the girl nor the dog fainted, the masks worked well enough to protect from the knock-out gas. Lets go, I said as I brought my gun up. A glance at my map of the building showed me where Gomorrah would be coming from. It also revealed that the red dots of security personnel were moving a lot more than before. Whats up with the security? I asked. I cant see what alerted them. One moment... ah. It seems that one of them spoke to another and neither recalled your appointment. Im afraid that I dont have the tools to rewrite memories. You have a gift for being terrifying, I said. Who are you talking to? Katallina asked. The alien voices in my head, I said. Lets get the fuck out of here. Therere guards. I blinked, then raised my grenade launcher while my shoulder-mounted guns deployed over my back. Oh, she said. Come on, if you behave youll maybe get to see an asshole blow up. On leaving the room, Katallina took a moment to punt the scientist sprawled in the floor right in the face. Shed fit right in with the kittens. *** Chapter Thirty-Seven - Cash Money Chapter Thirty-Seven - Cash Money Chapter Thirty-Seven - Cash Money Been doing some morally ambiguous shit? Afraid people will catch on to how skeevy you are? Using child labour? Selling people? Using indentured servitude on your employees? Selling weapons to the wrong sort of people? If you think that your business might get fucked over by the first uptight samurai that passes by, then consider getting AoG Insurance! Well cover your dumb ass, no matter what. But skip a payment and well fuck you up. --Acts of God Insurance Corp. ad, 2050 *** I had time to think as Katallina, the dog whose-name-I-would-change, and I moved through the R&D labs corridors. Sure, there was security coming for us, but I had a lot of knock-out gas grenades and access to the cameras so I knew where they were coming from before they turned around the corner. That meant walking over a lot of sleeping idiots on our way out. It felt a little cheat-y, but I was fine with that. Cheating was alright in my books, as long as it wasnt done against me. Besides, I was busy thinking, and Myalis-jokes aside, I did like a bit of quiet to think in. Our mission was essentially over. Not in the ideal way either. It left me with a girl (and a dog) to take care of. I didnt think that someone like Deus Ex would particularly care for Katallina now that it was revealed that the girl was just a normal girl. She was an orphan too. Which Id saved. By some weird twisted logic, that kind of made her my problem. Because I didnt have enough problems--or orphans--to look after. Lucy was going to be so much fun to deal with. I sighed and absently fired another burst of grenades through a glass door. The idiot hiding behind it panicked, throwing a jacket over the canisters spewing gas into the room, but not quick enough to stop himself from face-planting a moment later. There were other things. Money problems. Problems of reputation and such. How would this company react to us blowing up their lab? Fuck it, I muttered. Is something wrong? The hormone balance in your brain suggests that youre in something of a foul mood. I took a deep breath. Nah, Im fine, I said. Huh? Katallina asked. She looked a bit lost in thought too. Its nothing, I said. Just talking to someone else. Is there anything we can buy to help you? I barked a laugh. I dont know. What do you think Sunshines reaction will be to us, uh, doing this? Likely denounce everything, cut ties with whomever plotted this, then funnel resources into shell corporations before going bankrupt in order to not have to save face. For many smaller human corporations, it only takes a few days for them to essentially cease existing, then return as an entity with the same employees and a different logo. Damn, I said. Shits really not fair, is it? Katallina nodded, then pointed to the side. Can I bring that with me? It was Randalls. I followed her pointing finger and looked into a lab, one with a window all along its wall. Inside were some benches and a large steel tank at one end with a gun pointing into it. The same gun she had in the videos Id seen. Giving a gun to a kid was a terrible idea. But then, I wasnt keen on ideas that werent terrible. Yeah, sure, I said. I kicked the door to the lab open. It was just a small detour. While I fiddled with the clamps holding the gun in place, a text popped up from Gomorrah, asking me if I was quite ready. I sent her a thumbs-up emoji. Her response was an explosion that made the floor skip out from under me. The dog barked, Katallina screamed, and I felt a bit guilty for not warning her. I pushed the rifle into her hands. Come on, our rides here, I said. Gomorrah had parked in the middle of the corridor. Or at least, she was hovering there, the dust and loose debris of the hole torn into the side of the building wafting past us as the air pressure from the bottom of her Fury pushed them by. A couple of confused scientist sorts ran past. They didnt seem to know what the hell was going on, but had the common sense to be somewhere that wasnt near the sleek black samurai car that had made itself at home in their lab. Whoa, Katallina said. Thats a nice car. Its kinda hot, yeah, I said as I moved to the passenger side. The door opened, then the panel right behind it folded out and slid back, revealing two very small seats at the back where my Whisper was resting. If that dog ruins my seats I will be giving you a religious epiphany, Gomorrah greeted. I helped Katallina up into the back, then let the dog jump up where he snuggled up next to the girl. The doors closed up as soon as I fell into the passenger seat and rearranged my coat for comfort. The sound-proofing was good enough that as soon as everything sealed up I couldnt hear the rumble of the wind under us. So, where to now? I asked. Gomorrah turned my way. I thought you knew? I reached up and pulled off my helmet, placed it on my lap, then ran mechanical hands through my hair. Yeah, no, I really dont. Did you contact Deus Ex? I sent her what you learned. I appreciated her circling around the topic. Didnt need to set Katallina off again. Right. So... man, I need a break. The last day has been way too damned busy. Burn out happens, Gomorrah said. Not often with Samurai, but its not impossible. She reversed us out of the hole in the side of the building, then we shot off and towards the flowing traffic above. She moved past a couple of cop cars, but Gomorrah didnt seem to care about them and they left us alone. Yeah. Think you could bring us to the hotel? I suppose, Gomorrah said. Its a bit of an anti-climatic end to everything. Meh. You could come up with me? Meet Lucy, the kittens. The kittens... those are the orphans you take care of? Gomorrah asked. Yeah. Theyre pretty cool. Sometimes. Some of them. My eyes narrowed. They mostly behave. I suppose I dont really have much to do, Gomorrah said. I leaned back into my seat. What do you do for fun? I asked. I used to have chores at the church, but theyve been... honestly, theyve been babying me recently. I swear if one more person starts calling me a saint Im going to bring them closer to god the fast way. I laughed. Well, you wont have to worry about that with the kittens. *** Chapter Thirty-Eight - Kittens! Chapter Thirty-Eight - Kittens! Chapter Thirty-Eight - Kittens! The NA Ministry of Child Protection prides itself in providing only the very best care to the children in its charge. --Statement from the NA Ministry of Child Protection, 2031 *** Gomorrah did a fine job landing right next to the sidewalk leading into the hotel and shutting her car down as if she had no intention of moving from that spot. I didnt mind. It meant less walking. Id been doing some thinking on the last bit of the trip back. Hey, Gomorrah, I asked. Yes? she asked. Can you give me and the kid a minute? I nodded to the back of the car where Katallina was sitting pressed up against her dog. Gomorrah glanced back, then nodded and stood up, leaving the Fury and shutting the door behind her. Um, Katallina said. She didnt continue with that thought. I took a deep breath, then turned so that I could see behind as best as I could. We need to talk, just a little. About what? Katallina asked. She sounded wary. And weary. I could understand both. You dont have any close family, right? I asked. She shook her head. I didnt remember exactly how old she was. Thirteen? Fourteen maybe? Older than most of the kittens, but not all of them. Juniors age, more or less. I... look, I know what thats like. And no, Im not being some asshole adult pretending to sympathize. Im an orphan too, you know? So, uh, yeah, Ive been there. And when I was there I was flung off to some shitty orphanage with no choices. Well, I could have left, but that was a non-choice. Look, I dont want that to happen to anyone, but Im just me, alright? Okay? Fuck, Im bad at this, I muttered. If... if it was up to some of the people I know, I think theyd just hand you over to the government. Maybe some would make sure you ended up in a nice orphanage, but itd be the same mess, you know? Only with nicer bars in your cage. I aint keen on that. But Ive kinda been assuming stuff.UppTodated from ing what? She was petting her dog, the big lump drooling merrily on Gomorrahs leather seats. That youll just do as I say, I guess. So Ill lay it out for you, alright? She took a moment before nodding, her thumb rubbing at the side of her gun. Alright. Ive got these kids. The kittens. Theres a bunch of them. Nose, and Junior, the Twins and... yeah, a few more. All little shits. All orphans, like me. Theyre family, you know? Not by blood, but by circumstance. You want me to be one of them? Katallina asked. I shrugged. Im inviting you, I guess. Im not the boss. I call them my kittens, but thats like saying, uh, my country, or something. But yeah, I wont make you do anything. You want to get emancipated and run off with some cash to figure things out, thats on you. You want to be sent to some governmental place, thats up to you too. I kinda robbed the people that kidnapped you a bit, and some of that cash is rightfully yours. Its not retirement money, but its a good amount. Katallina shoved herself off the seat and started scooting to the door. Ill see, she said. I shook my head and pushed the door on my side open. Was I a magnet for snarky little shits? Did I deserve it? My eyes narrowed. I totally deserved it. Dammit all. I glared, then stared at the TV, connected to it through my augs, and flicked it off. Hey! came a chorus of whines. Myalis, can you ping all the kittens and tell them to come over here? Be as creatively threatening as you want. With pleasure! I have the feeling that being here is a mistake, Gomorrah said. Why is this place more fearsome than breaking into a mercenary base? Because kids are scarier than neckbeards with guns, I said. The kittens, spurned on by Myalis threats, gathered up in the... I didnt know what the huge room that encompassed the kitchen, the living room, and an area with a piano was called. I looked over the sea of little shits, then narrowed my eyes. Wheres Lucy? I didnt alert her. I suspect that sending threats to your girlfriend would cause some issues. Shes sleeping, dipshit, Junior said. Oh, I said. Daniel wobbled into the room and then came to a stop next to the island in the middle of the kitchen. Hey, he said. Nice seeing you alive. That the girl you were trying to save? Yup. Gomorrah, Daniel, watch over the kittens, Im going to go wake Lucy up, I said as I took off. I pretended that I couldnt hear Gomorrahs what? even though Id picked it up plenty well. So, are you a nun, or is that just some cosplay, because if it is just cosplay, you got an Instagram or something? Daniel asked. I left it up to Gomorrah to decide whether or not to choke him. I went over to the master bedroom and carefully opened the door. It was well oiled, and didnt so much as squeak. Lucy was on the bed, partially covered by a blanket and hugging a pillow. She was in jeans and a t-shirt, and looked like someone that had just flopped down for a quick nap. I couldnt help but smile as I shuffled over and took off my coat, then the holster beneath. I sat next to her and started to run my hands through her hair. She had wavy hair that always got tangled up if she didnt take care of it. It was beautiful, but a bit messy, and high maintenance. I would never tell Lucy that it suited her very well. Hey, I said. Lucy groaned and buried herself deeper into her pillow. Just eat whatever, she said. I snorted. Did she think I was a hungry kitten? She blinked and looked up to me. It took a moment for recognition to flash in her eyes. And then she shoved her head back down. Its good youre back; wake me up later. Really? I asked. She sighed, yawned, and rolled over onto her back. Fine, she said. How was... everything? What time is it? Who cares? I asked. Uh, we have guests. She blinked some more. We have guests? Yup. You might wanna get up. Dammit all, she said. But she did get up. Chapter Thirty-Nine - Where Things Go Chapter Thirty-Nine - Where Things Go Chapter Thirty-Nine - Where Things Go He that is without sin among you, let him yeet the first stone. (John 8:3) --Excerpt from The New Youth Bible of 2044 *** Do you want me to lay out the situation for you? I asked as I helped Lucy to her feet. She paused, then stretched, and for a moment I was distracted by that little bit of belly that appeared when her shirt rode up. You make it sound serious, she said. It sorta is, I said. We saved that girl, and uh, now shes here. And shes a bit of an orphan. Lucy turned and looked at me. Youre so predictable. What? I asked. She pulled me over, gave me an unfortunately chaste kiss, then used my shoulder as a place to rest her head while hugging me. Predictable, she muttered. You saw the girl, felt bad about it, then decided she needed saving, right? Well, I mean, at a certain angle you could certainly paint the situation to look like that, I said. She pinched my butt, or tried to. The armoured undersuit I was wearing made that a little hard. Hmmph, she said as she was robbed of one of her favourite past-times. Well, whatever. We should have some funds, and as long as the girl doesnt mind sleeping in the same room as the twins it should be okay. Right, speaking of funds, I made lots of money. Okay? Like... multiple millions. Lucy pulled back and looked at me. I guess thatll help. I thought youd be more excited, I said. Can we spend some of that on cute clothes? I rolled my eyes. Yes Lucy, we can. Good. The rest... I guess rent? Well need proper food too. I dont know if we can stay in this much luxury forever. We could, I said. Id find a way, if its what Lucy wanted. Its just a bit much, she said. But whatever, it doesnt matter. Ill find some school stuff for the kittens soon, including the new girl, and... I guess well see where things go from there? Yeah, sure, I said. Maybe we can buy some other goodies? Or, uh, help people, somehow? Speaking of, I left Gomorrah in charge of the kittens. Lucy was confused for a moment, then I saw understanding flash in her eyes. The nun? The pyro nun, yeah, I said. Cool! Lets go say hi, and make sure the kids didnt get themselves toasted. I was actually expecting... one of two things. Gomorrah buried under a pile of kittens, suffocating under their prying questions and being completely lost. OR One to ten dead kittens, and a faint odour of charred kids. Ohh, shes even hotter when she''s angry, Lucy said. Thats just so cruel. Can either of you take anything seriously? Gomorrah asked. Youre seriously cute, Lucy said. Im seriously contemplating inviting you to a threesome. Gomorrahs mouth worked while blood rushed to her face. She couldnt seem to decide on whether to glare or just blush herself to death. I laughed and bumped shoulders with Lucy. Alright, we can tease you later, I said. We do need to, uh, talk about stuff? Mostly I wanted you here because the kittens can be annoying in large doses. What about me? Katallina asked. Well, I wanted to see if you liked the kittens. You can still say no, you know? I asked. She looked to the table, then carefully took the soda Lucy had given her and sipped from it before answering. I guess I could stay? I can leave if I dont like it, right? Of course. And I can keep Catkilller? Lucy blinked. What? The dog, probably hearing its name, strutted on over while leaving a fresh line of drool on the carpet. One of the kittens whined at it leaving, but the dog didnt seem to care much. It dropped its head onto Katallinas lap and drooled there for a bit. A puppy! Lucy squealed. She teleported to the other side of the island and was soon rubbing herself against the dog, who seemed to thoroughly enjoy the sudden loud attention. Whos a good boy? Whos a good boy? Your name is Catkiller? Thats a good name, yes it is! Its an awful name, I said. I think its a nice name, Gomorrah said. I huffed. Can we change his name? I asked Katallina. The girl looked at me, wide-eyed. You cant change a dogs name, she said. Its literally called Catkiller! Thats like... going to inspire violence with the kittens, or something. You let me keep a laser rifle, Katallina said. Thats different, I muttered. Im not sure anyone heard me over the cooing noises Lucy was making while petting the dumb dog. Are you jealous of a dog? Im the one she... you know what, Im not finishing that, I said. Taking a breath, I cleared my throat. Katallina. Welcome to the kittens, I guess. Dont shoot any of them, no matter how annoying they get, alright? Ill do my best, she said. And, uh, thanks. I gave her a thumbs up, then went to fetch a snack from the fridge. On returning, I placed another bottle before Gomorrah and slumped onto a stool. So, tell me more about these home defence things? I asked. She closed her eyes. How many points do you have? About... seven thousand and change? The nun rubbed at her face. You... are stupid. You could have saved us a day of running around with that amount of points. My bad? Alright, let me teach you the principles of spending points as a samurai, because its obvious that youre not learning on your own. Chapter Forty - Bicker Bicker Chapter Forty - Bicker Bicker Chapter Forty - Bicker Bicker Samurai are basically mad-scientists when it comes to wherever they live. Sure, you might find out where that is, but trying to break in is likely to have you turned into a rat by some needlessly cruel defence system. Its just not worth it. --Longbow, final interview given to a team of reporters that attempted to break into his home, 2049 *** When Gomorrah said shed teach me, I was expecting her to just kind of informally tell me a few things, maybe drop a few hints, give a couple of tips. I was not expecting her to drag me over to the one unused room in the penthouse--the office--and sit me down on a chair in the middle of the room. Lucy, of course, followed. I think the dog would have followed too, but one of the kittens dropped something in the living room, and he proved his shortsightedness by abandoning all love for Lucy in favour of chasing down floor food. You, as we have firmly established already, Gomorrah began. Are an idiot. I blinked. Okay... thats a bit rude. Do you have anything that protects you from your own explosives? ...No? My point is made, she said. Myalis never suggested anything like that, I said. You never asked. Gomorrah pinched the bridge of her nose and then, upon letting go, went through some calming exercises. Okay. Okay. This is really something you should have learned early on. What is? I asked. The protectors, god bless them, are wonderful, but they are not entirely human. Dont get me wrong, they probably understand human psychology better than any human does, but that doesnt mean they use that knowledge all the time. Uh, okay? I dont get it! Lucy cheerfully jumped onto the same boat as me. You have an excuse, Gomorrah said. Its okay if I dont get things because Im cute? Lucy asked. Gomorrah rolled her eyes. No, you dont have an AI in your mind. Stray Cat... Cat here, does. She should have been told this by now. My role models so far have been Deus Ex, whos a little shit, Longbow, who is a LARPer, and you, I pointed out. God Almighty. I snorted, then Lucy giggled, which made me chuckle, and soon she plopped herself onto the same seat as me, both of us bouncing as we laughed. Gomorrah sighed. The point Im trying to get at is that the Protectors only protect if you ask for it. The AI will not prompt you to better yourself, merely provide the tools to do so. Exceptional ones, but still just more tools. Secure your homeSecure yourselfObtain greater equipmentObtain the means of producing your equipmentSecure the assets you care aboutObtain comforts I couldnt hold back a grin. Marriage, huh? Wait, is that even a man? Cat. It has like, sixteen penises. Good point. Gomorrah looked a little nauseous. I truly do not want to know. Thats fair, I said. Wouldnt want to corrupt your no doubt pure and chaste mind. So, since Im not obsessed with cats, maybe I should spend those points on other things? I wonder what Deus Ex spends her points on? You should spend them on things that keep you alive, Lucy said. If you die I might be a little upset and you wouldnt want that. Youre right, upsetting you a little would be awful, I said. Also, you need to let me pick out some gear for you that looks cool. Your sense of fashion is shit. I squeezed her a little. It is not, I said. Your helmet had whiskers. That wasnt me! I defended myself. Gomorrah stopped her pacing and stretched a little. Its getting late, she said. A glance outside revealed that the sun was well on its way to setting. I should head back home soon. Do put up some defences around your home here, please. Id be mildly disappointed to learn that someone enterprising killed you in your sleep. I lifted Lucy up and plopped her down next to me. She squirmed a little at the treatment, but stopped as soon as I got up. Alright. Ill uh, walk you to the door? Id appreciate that, she said. Lucy jumped up behind me, then pulled Gomorrah into a quick hug. Thanks for taking care of my Cat, she said. I know shes a lot of trouble, and a bit stupid, and sometimes shes a bitch, but I still like her. Youre welcome, Gomorrah said over my indignant grumbling. I think shes becoming something of a friend. We escorted Gomorrah past the kittens, some of whom were polite enough to say goodbye, then, once we finished repeating out goodbyes again, and the door was shut behind her, I found a nice place to rest, leaning up against Lucy for support with my head leaning against hers. Im tired, I said. She laughed. I can tell. Do you want to do that security stuff first? Im sure I can keep you energized until then. That sounds fun, I muttered. Somehow, we made it over to the bedroom without tripping over each other, unfortunately, Lucy tended to be a work-before-pleasure kind of person, and she just sat down on one of the cushy seats in the corner of the room. Alright, lets buy shit! Alright, alright, where do we start? The door clicked open and a Dumbass skittered in. Do forgive the intrusion, it said in Myalis voice. But I did wish to be able to talk to both of you without needing to resort to Lucys frankly atrocious augmentations. Ohh, come here, Lucy said. She made wiggly-hands at the drone who quickly settled onto her lap. Right, so home defence stuff, I said as I settled onto the edge of the bed. Where do we start? From the top, Myalis said. If thats what you wish. *** Chapter Forty-One - Big ol’ Mecha Cats Chapter Forty-One - Big ol¡¯ Mecha Cats Chapter Forty-One - Big ol Mecha Cats On every governmental document, there is a tiny checkbox, entirely hidden in the documents code. This checkbox can only be checked off by solving a complex cryptographic code, the sort that adds a few megabytes to the size of the documents file. It essentially reads as such: If you are a samurai, check the following box: Once checked, the document is considered complete regardless of how much or how little was filled on it. An analyst will check to determine if the providence truly does belong to a samurai, and will then file the document accordingly. --IRS Blue book instructional manual. *** To be entirely honest, I really didnt feel like working, and yes, contrary to what Lucy believed, shopping for stuff totally counted as working. Mister Tentacles was over in the corner, doing nothing, and both Lucy and I had a lot of free time all of a sudden. There were at least a dozen very fun things we could have been doing instead. But no, I had responsibilities and stuff to take care of first. I sighed. Okay, from the top then, I said. Wonderful! Myalis said. If you wish to follow the list Gomorrah outlined for you, then the first purchase you should look into is a method by which to secure your place of residence. Lucy leaned back, still hugging the dumbass close. That might be tricky, she said. Whats that? I asked. We dont exactly have a place of residence. I blinked, then gestured around the lavish room. Whats this then? A hotel room? Its really nice, and Im sure with your crazy samurai money you could keep us here for a while, but its not permanent, she said. Whatll happen if you get hurt? Will we get kicked out? What if we want more kittens? Theyre already two or three to a room, which is fine since we have big beds here, but thats a temporary solution. I leaned back into the very comfortable bed. Damn. Alright, so we need a house. Like, a proper place to stay in. Myalis, can you give me an idea of what a place would cost? The range of prices for a home is rather huge, you are aware. Perhaps a few additional factors to narrow it down? Im assuming you want to stay within the same hemisphere? Uh, right, thats true. Same city? Maybe... a place with enough room for all the kittens, and then a few more. I sat up then pulled my legs in and started to pull my boots off. My feet were... completely fine. It felt as though they should have been achey, but my alien boots were too good for that apparently. Maybe we can buy a place and renovate it? The good news in that case is that quite a few buildings were recently evacuated and are being dealt with by local insurance companies. Some small businesses have also surrendered their leases. Hmm, I said. It wouldnt cover everything though. Buy different kinds. Like, Gomorrah said wed need some sort of electronic warfare sort of thing, right? Buy a cat like that. Oh, and one thats all shields and stuff, and one thats got, like, a cannon. This is sounding expensive, I said. Approximately four hundred points so far, Myalis said. I reached up and pulled Lucy down onto me. Youre lucky Im such a softy, I said. You really are, she said. Okay, lets take this a little more seriously, I said. Mostly because the sooner we finished, the sooner I could ravish the girl pressing herself up against me. Let''s say we spend five hundred points or so on home defence. Mobile stuff, like your giant cat drones. Thats... a fair amount of points, but not too many. I think... yeah, we should diversify things a little. Maybe a couple of more mobile drones, and a few specialized ones? I heard the dumbass Myalis was controlling move closer to the bed. One electronic countermeasures drone. One heavy weapons platform, and three simpler weapons platforms? Maybe replace one of the simpler ones with a drone that can use non-lethals? I asked. As a sort of first resort. Non-lethal for someone trying to mess with the house, or the kittens? Lucy asked. Mostly because I dont want the kittens to get caught in the splash damage, I said. Or for them to see someones head blow up. Though I watched the same shows as them, it wasnt too shocking to see that kind of thing, even in real life. I see. I have picked out what I hope are the best options for what youre looking for, Myalis said. Do you want me to project an image of what they would look like? Ohh! Lucy said as she rolled off me. Myalis was such a fucking clam-jammer. I sat up just as five fuzzy holograms materialized, then sharpened into more precise images. The drones looked like cats. Giant mechanical cats, without any fur and made of metallic plates in a dull black that I suspected the holograms couldnt do justice. Those look like theyre pretty big, Lucy said. Approximately the size of a Bengal tiger, Myalis said. The five looked pretty similar, though one had a broader back, and another had a lot more fins along its sides and where its ribs would have been were it an organic creature. The heavy weapons platform and the electronic warfare one, if I had to guess. These are Se-Cat-Urity Drones, Mar-- Wait wait, I cut her off. Se-Cat-Urity drones? Were you even trying with that name? Lucy giggled, which didnt help any. Very well then, Ill send a ticket to have them renamed... Sent. Acknowledge. Accepted. The drones have officially been renamed. They are now classified as Personal Use, Security Systems, Model Y. Lucys giggle turned into a full-blown laugh, and I started to look for something to throw at Myalis. *** Chapter Forty-Two - Invasive Chapter Forty-Two - Invasive Chapter Forty-Two - Invasive If youre going to kill a samurai, make sure to double tap. --Anonymous *** I reluctantly got off the bed and walked around the five large cat mecha sitting in a row. The holograms flickered whenever I walked between them and the Dumbass Myalis was using to project them, but I still had a good idea of what the machines looked like. These are pretty intimidating, I said. They were. With scowling eyes and a build that made them look like one of those cloned tigers the super-rich had in their mansions. No stripes, but the way their armour was jointed hinted at something similar. The holograms flickered, and suddenly the mecha were bristling with weapons. Every unit has a pair of basic firearms. Belt fed, five point six millimeter machine guns mounted in the ribs. The combat units have larger guns. These are rail-fired magnetically propelled grenade launchers. With customizable payloads. The railguns twitched this way and that. The face of most units can open up, and the jaws are strong enough to break bone. The claws all have arc-jets in them. Effectively electrical welders to soften nearby targets. The heavier model has a hellfire, belt-fed missile launcher instead of the railgun, and the electronic countermeasure unit, Im afraid, focuses mostly on E-war applications, and therefore lacks the room for deployable weapons. Is this what shopping is like for you all the time? Lucy asked. Because Im a bit jealous. The non-lethal version, Myalis continued. One of the mechs started to spin slowly. Is equipped with tasers, gas deployment systems, and guns that can spray an irritating adhesive. Contact from the latter to a humans skin should cause them debilitating pain. That doesnt sound very nonlethal, Lucy said. While they may wish for death, they wont be dead, Myalis said. I nodded. How much for the five? I asked. Myalis was quick to answer. Four hundred and ninety five points. Just shy of your five hundred point budget. I looked at Lucy, and she nodded. It was a big purchase, but it was meant to keep the kittens, and Lucy, safe. When put in that light, it really wasn''t much. Lets do it, then, I said. New Purchase: P.U.S.S Model Y - Security Mechs (Various) - Five Models Points reduced to... 7015 Five boxes appeared across the floor, all in a neat row. Oh! Like Christmas! Lucy said as she catapulted herself off the bed. She landed with a stumble, legs wobbling a bit, so I caught her in a quick hug to keep her steady. Can I open them? she asked as she assaulted me with big wet eyes. Yeah, sure, I said. The boxes were the same cheap-looking plastic that all of my stuff came in. Lucy had to scramble with the sides of the first a bit before she found the edge and tore it off. Lucy pulled me into a quick hug. You know I love you, handles and all. She pinched my stomach, where I very much didnt have handles. But abs are really fucking hot. I poked her in the stomach. What about you? Huh? All that rich food. We just need to do some more cardio, Lucy agreed. We have many options to improve your physique, although, it has been noted that self-improvement of ones own body does produce slightly better results in the field over faster methods. I squirmed a little. So, how invasive are we talking here? Generally speaking, not invasive at all, Myalis said. Youve done more invasive things with Lucy here in the past day or so. Lucy snorted. I shook my head. Idiots, the both of you. Now, that self-healing thing, whats that all about? And is it a separate thing from the, uh, anti-poison one? Anti-toxin, and that is entirely up to you. If you want to avoid any complex surgeries, and want to keep the number of purchases to a minimum, I would advise investing a few more points to purchase a single module that covers as wide a range of options as possible. It is unlikely to do them all as well as specialized prosthetics and replacements to your current organs, but it would likely be a solution that covers a lot of ground. I nodded. Okay, alright. And Id need to be operated on? For a few more points, the organ could be transported directly into your body. Wow, that sounds awful, Lucy said. Where will the, uh, stuff thats already there go? They would be mulched by the new organ as it sets itself into place, then passed with Cats normal waste removal methods. You want me to shit out my liver? I asked. I wasnt sure if I should be horrified or fascinated, so I settled for a bit of both. Myalis took a worrying moment to respond. Technically it would be a liver, as well as both kidneys, and a lower rib. How big is this thing? I asked. The dumbass projected a hologram of a metal thing, with a sack on one side, and a lot of little pipes sticking out of it. It looked about as big around as a football, though one that had been deflated a little and then sat on. This is from your Sunwatch Technologies catalogue. Its a versatile replacement organ. It can pump, filter, and replenish your blood, create small repair nanites that it can fuse to your white blood cells, and it has a sophisticated hormonal control system that allows it to assist your bodys functions. It is, as you can imagine, a little more durable than normal human organs as well. How much healing can it do? Lucy asked. It assists in clot formation, can more efficiently produce the materials the body uses to heal itself, and it can generally pin-point various ailments and act to rectify them. Mostly, it will prevent sickness, though it will not stop everything, nor will it do things like regrow limbs. So, cuts heal faster and I wouldnt get a cold? I asked. Yes to the former. The latter is technically accurate. If a small cut takes a week to heal until it is no longer visible with your unaugmented body, this would reduce that time to a mere few days. So no instant-regrowth stuff? I asked. That would require far more invasive, and numerous, systems, Myalis said. I groaned. Fine, fine. Walk me through how to install that thing. *** Chapter Forty-Three - Comfy Morning Rituals Chapter Forty-Three - Comfy Morning Rituals Chapter Forty-Three - Comfy Morning Rituals Indentured servitude isnt as bad as people make it out to be. After all, the person in charge of an indentured person--the use of the word slave should be avoided at all times--is legally obligated to care for that person. That means that the minimum standards for living, such as (limited) entertainment, food (up to a caloric amount calculated based on the indentureds BMI) and living space, must all be provided alongside fulfilling work that can, at a reasonable pace, cover the cost of those living expenses, as well as a certain percentage of the indentureds debt. Servitude just means that someone is willing and able to serve in order to pay off their debts! Thats it! --American IS Bureau pamphlet, 2047 *** I woke up when the bed shifted and lazily made my ears twitch. My new ears let me sense things with a sort of echolocation, and that meant that I didnt need to turn my head and open my eyes to see what was going on. Someone very pretty was climbing into bed, bare feet slipping in and brushing past my calves. They were a little cold, but I didnt mind much. She laid herself down behind me and wrapped an arm around my middle. Lucy usually liked being the little spoon, so I enjoyed the reversal while I could. Are you awake? she whispered. It tickled the base of my neck in a very pleasant way. Mmm, I replied as I shifted back a bit. I was sore, so the movement wasnt all that comfortable. Some of that soreness was the fun kind--Mister Tentacles had gotten a workout--but some of it, especially around my gut, was a bit strange. Installing that artificial organ thing had been almost traumatising. If it wasnt for Lucys careful ministrations afterwards I might have found the whole thing awful. Lucy placed an arm over me and pulled me in closer. She was only wearing an oversized shirt, which made the snuggling a whole lot more fun. Where were you? I muttered. Checking on the kittens, she replied. She sounded as if she was already nearing sleep. Mmm, I agreed. At some point my breathing became even, and I dipped back down into sleep. I woke up a second time when Lucy started snoring into my ears. It was a reverberating noise, only broken up by the occasional snort. Sighing, I turned over and faced her. She was sleeping with her mouth open, and looked incredibly dumb with her hair poking out this way and that. I made sure to take a picture with my cybernetic eye. I wanted to stay under the blankets, and just sleep the entire day away. The counter in the corner of my eye telling me it was eleven could get bent for all I cared. But I really had to piss. I wiggled out of the covers, trying hard not to wake Lucy up, until my feet touched the floor. It was warm, because of course the hotel had heated floors. I padded to the bathroom and did what I had to do. By the time I was done, sleeping was no longer an option. My boots were tossed across the room, and I was too damned lazy to fetch them. I just found a shirt in one of the drawers, then some underthings and I moved out of the room. I wasnt alone to get up so early. Katallina was filling a bowl with some milk. I watched her for a moment, then found my own bowl and set it next to hers. I grabbed the cereal, shook the box to make sure it wasnt empty, then took the milk when she was done with it. I know, I wanna see the museum first. Might need to sink points into remodelling or whatever, I said. That is reasonable. Shall I obtain transportation to the museum for you? I nodded. Yeah. Lucy shook her head and headed out, presumably to get changed. Something comfortable this time, I said. Of course. I actually like Lucy. I snorted, but couldnt argue. I liked her too. I finished up by tossing everything in the dishes, and by resisting the urge to steal from Lucys plate. Instead I looked around, spotted one of the cat bots, and pointed to the plate, then my eyes. It nodded, which was pretty cool. I returned to our room and started looking for my clothes. Theyd been tossed here and there the night before, so I had to crawl around to find some things, but at least I got to help Lucy find her own things at the same time. Twenty minutes later, with only some of that time lost to fondling and other such distractions, we were both heading out. Oh! I said. I forgot to give you my old jacket. Youre giving me your handouts out? Lucy asked as she followed me to the kitchen. It can turn you partially invisible, I said. And its got big bullet holes in it. Looks pretty rad. Lucy took the coat, and looked pretty pleased with herself until she poked at the holes. Hey, wait, you were shot? It happens, I said as I led the two of us out of the penthouse and locked it up behind me. Cat! Lucy barked. I regretted giving her the coat. Its nothing, I said. Is that why you had a bruise on your breast? she asked as she lined the coat up. It was a bit loose around her shoulders, and tight around the chest, but it still fit her just fine. We were used to second and third-hand clothes. I declined to answer as I moved over to the elevator. Hey! she said. It was nothing, I said. No, getting shot isnt nothing! Its part of the job. A little bit. Its one of those high-risk, high-rewards things, I said. Look at how much things have gotten better, and its only been two days. And none of that would be worth anything if you died, Lucy said. She crossed her arms, set her shoulders, and glared. It was a long ride down to the lobby. *** Chapter Forty-Four - Kinda Cute Chapter Forty-Four - Kinda Cute Chapter Forty-Four - Kinda Cute Samurai, on account of being perfectly human, despite what some people would think, and how some media portray them, have as much need for companionship as anyone else. They can fall in love just as easily, and their sexual desires as just as keen as you would expect from a healthy human. That means that relationships between samurai and normal people occur. Statistically, these dont tend to last. The vast gulf of difference, not just in experience, but in responsibility, tends to erode away any bonds in a relationship. It is far more likely that samurai will have short-term flings, or that they will connect with another like-minded samurai, and form a strange, quasi-dependant relationship with them.UppTodated from That doesnt mean that theres no hope for those aiming to find love with a samurai. There have been some long-term relationships, marriages even, that have lasted for years between normal folk and samurai. --Gold-Digger Weekly, issue 147, 2038 *** I actually managed to placate Lucy a bit by the time we reached the hotel lobby. She wasnt super happy yet, but she was no longer glaring at me for having risked my life. It was my life to risk, of course, but saying something like that to Lucy would just have pissed her off even more. As far as she was concerned, my ass was hers. I was a little annoyed too, but that was probably just... annoyance making more of itself, or whatever. Relationships were complicated. Im sorry, I muttered. Lucy glanced my way. What was that? she asked. I sighed. Lucy. Fine, she said before her shoulders slumped. Yeah, fine. Just... dont die, alright? I couldnt help but grin a little. Ill do what I can not to. Do more, she said. I wouldnt want to take care of the kittens on my own. Meh, youd manage. She jabbed her elbow in my gut and I coughed. Hey! I ignored anyone in the lobby looking our way. We probably both looked a bit like samurai, what with Lucy wearing my coat. I made a note to give her any other gear I ended up replacing too. Sure, it was second-hand, but it was the sort of second hand that most people only wished they could get, and for all that Lucy was worried about me dying, I had a few things keeping me alive, Lucy was operating on her 1.0 hardware. Id have to see about changing that up later. If I could get redundant mechanical organs shoved into me, so could Lucy. Blinking, I determined to word things more carefully in the future. We stepped out into the lot out front, where valets were helping clients out of their cars and taxis were stopping and going near-constantly. Uh? Lucy asked. Just in case. Theres a safety thing, uh, I think itll connect to your augs. Myalis, can you do some tech wizardry? Of course. Yeah, but why? Lucy asked as she held onto the gun as if Id just handed her a sick puppy. In case you need to shoot something, I said. Id have given her my Trench Maker, but it needed more aiming, and was a bit cumbersome besides. Just, shove it in your pocket and keep it around, okay? Hell... Myalis, I need a holster thatll fit on Lucy. And one of those, uh, what did you call it, that defence thing my jacket has? A quantum projection system? I could provide something like that, yes. I nodded. And one of those stealth thingies. The ones that make you look like a plant or something. That would make going after Lucy a bit harder. Cat? I believe I can find all three prerequisites in one item. Would Lucy prefer a belt holster or a waist holster? I eyed Lucy up and down. Belt, I decided. Taking off her jacket in the rain would just give her a cold. Catherine, what are you doing? Lucy asked. Keeping you alive, I said. Probably should have thought about it before leaving the house. New Purchase: Multi-Projection Security Belt (+Holster) Points reduced to... 6915 The box that I caught out of the air had a simple black belt within. I pretended not to see the cat-head shaped buckle as I gave it to Lucy. There was a holster to one side, and a blocky device on the other. Here, put this on. Cat! Lucy protested. Dont make me put it on you, I said. That would involve taking your current belt off, and who knows what kind of fun that might lead to? She jabbed a knuckle in my gut, then snapped the belt out of my hands. Fine, she muttered. Im no hypocrite. Once everything was buckled, and her old belt was tightened around one leg in a way that somehow managed to look good--because when you looked as good as Lucy, weird fashion shit just looked quirky, not weird--Lucy slapped her new gun into her holster and crossed her arms. I grinned at her and slid my helmet on. You know, youre kinda cute when youre all pout-y. Kinda cute? she asked. I pulled her to my side, and we started towards the steps leading to the front of the museum. Chapter Forty-Five - Realtoring Chapter Forty-Five - Realtoring Chapter Forty-Five - Realtoring The housing market was turning into an increasingly dangerous bubble in North America in the end of the 2010s. As it turns out, all that was needed to pop that was an alien invasion. --Anonymous on the price of homes, 2022 *** I stayed by Lucy as we made our way down the side of the building and towards the museums entrance. I idly noticed bullet holes here and there, and stains on the ground where antithesis had bled out. Signs left over from my fight here a few days ago? I supposed that the carrion antithesis had grabbed most of the bodies at some point, or a cleaning crew had come around already. I was a little worried that a stray gust would pick Lucy and fling her off the side. Which was silly, of course, but it didnt stop me from placing myself between her and the drop. If I was blown off the edge, I had options, she didnt, and she was still new to the whole, walking-without-crutches thing. We did make it to the bottom safely, though Lucy paused to catch her breath. You okay? I asked. I need to do more cardio. And maybe eat a little bit less, Lucy said. I can certainly think of a few ways to get your heart beating, I said. She snorted. Not out here. Hah! No, its a bit chilly for that. We found someone waiting for us at the front of the museum, a woman, maybe in her mid-thirties, and wearing a nice corporate-style long coat and shades. She had a suitcase by her side, and was staring off into the sky in the way someone looking at their media feeds did while bored. Hey! I called out. The woman snapped out of it, looked to us, then put on a smile that I immediately pinged as fake. Hello, she said. Youre right on time. Cool, I said. Im Cat, this is Lucy. Im Jessica Washington, from Washington, Smith and Associates. Its a pleasure to meet you. She extended her hand, and I hesitated just a moment before shaking with my cybernetic arm. Yeah, I said. So, we were kinda interested in the place. You intend to give us a tour or something? Of course, Jessica was all smiles. At Washington and Smith, we prize our clients above all else, but were also very discerning about who we take on as a client, and to whom we will sell their property. We only want the best for the city, of course. My eyes were practically glazing over at all the corporate talk. Uh-huh, I said. Point being? Myalis? she asked. My AI, I explained. I do indeed. If your goal is to intimidate the woman, then Id advise allowing me to enter the conversation. A low-cost drone would be more than enough. I nodded. That sounds great. New Purchase: Light Communications Drone Points reduced to... 6910 A box appeared before me, and I snapped it out of the air, popped it open, and let the tiny drone within whizz out. It was no bigger than a closed fist, and looked about as durable as some of the third-hand toys wed played with at the orphanage. Greetings, Myalis said. Im Vanguard Stray Cats assistant, Myalis. She has asked for my assistance regarding some things. A pleasure, Jessica said. Should we step inside? If were going to be negotiating, Id rather do it within the building. Privacy and all. Also, its not as cold. I looked to the side and noticed Lucy hugging herself for warmth, then nodded. Yeah, thats a good idea. The android that had been in the front entrance the first time we came was long gone, and the security doors had been torn right off their hinges. Still, the lobby was a bit warmer, and there were chairs along the sides next to posters of various samurai in action and some poorly disguised ads. So, did you intend to tell folks that the vault in this place is fake? I asked. Technically, it meets all specifications to be considered a vault, Jessica said. Are you shitting me? Myalis little drone slid closer. She is, technically, correct. The guidelines on what can and cant be considered a vault are lax, and the interpretation of a large room with minimal survival equipment could be accepted as enough to consider the room in this building as a vault. I shook my head. No way. I dont care what any law says, that vault isnt real. Its fake. We could lower the price in consequence of-- And I havent spoken to Longbow yet, but Im pretty sure he was still pissed about his AA system being fucked with. Pretty sure hes going to turn around and hit whomever owned the place for that particular fuck-up. I... will inform my clients of that, Jessica said. Lucy smiled. It was one of her terrifying smiles, the sort that was also a little hot. Go ahead. Of course, Im sure Cat could help cool Longbow down. In the end, they need to weigh how much theyll lose, versus how much they have to gain in trying to sell this place. Jessica rolled her eyes. You two might think youre being clever, but I see what youre trying to do. Truth is, Im only getting a commission on this place, and its not that great to begin with. Still, I need to make ends meet, so even if this place had been a baby skinning factory, wed still try to sell it at a price that was at least fair compared to the current market values. You can threaten and posture all you like, and you might even have the right of it, but unless you plan on just stealing the place, then well have to insist that you pay a fair price. I stared at Jessica. The woman had brass balls. Though, to be fair, she was kinda right. Just cause the place had nearly been the death of me, didnt mean I could just take it. My temptation to be a bitch warred with my sense of what was fair for a bit, then I crossed my arms. Fine. Lets talk prices then. Fair prices. *** Chapter Forty-Six - Impeccable Mathematics Chapter Forty-Six - Impeccable Mathematics You want to distract an entire forum of people for a few hours? Mention a samurais weapons, then point out some random detail. Just be sure to be somewhat wrong about it. Hours of pleasure, guaranteed. --Anonymous commentator, 2021 *** Okay, I said. So, two-ninety... whatever, I said. Jessica nodded. Now, we need to factor in a couple of things, I said. Whomever buys this place needs to renovate it. A whole lot. Not to mention cleaning the place up. Thats factored into the price, she said. I doubt it, I said. You know, I almost bled out over here? Hell, I used flesh eating nanite grenades in there. The realtor blanched. Pardon? Theyre designed to melt flesh so that the antithesis cant use it anymore, I said. The nanomachines dont last that long, dont worry, but youll still need specialists to clean up. I will make note of it, Jessica said. Now, there are two other things you should tell your clients. One, theyre on the hook for fucking up Longbows gun. Two, Deus Ex had to come over here for stuff, and shes a vindictive little bitch. Like seriously, just yesterday, she gave a couple dozen people cancer because it was faster than poking at them herself. Jessica nodded slowly. I leaned back, then hummed. How much can you bring the price down by? I asked. Id done my share of negotiating for stuff before. I wasnt great at it, but I could manage in a pinch. Buying stuff from a street vendor wasnt quite the same as buying anything worth hundreds of millions, but I figured some of it would crossover. Jessica looked straight past me for a moment. We could, if we lower our expectations, and convince some of our clients to make a smaller profit, lower the price of the building all the way down to two hundred and seventy-five million. I snorted. Thats barely a discount. Its a significant drop in price. My clients will barely make any profit at that rate. I shuffled a little. Ill give you one hundred million, I said. Thats a solid no, Jessica said. I cant drop the price by that much. I gestured for her to wait. Calm down, I can spice it up a little, I said before turning to Myalis. Hey, which one of my catalogues has the most valuable stuff? That is, if I were to sell it on an open market? Bit creepy, Lucy said as she looked over the floor. I had to agree. It had a very... carnival-after-dark look to it. You need to look past all the junk and stuff, I said. Theres a lot of room here. Lucy nodded, then looked over her shoulder. Think shell take your bait? she asked. Myalis hovered over. Some of her clients were actually listening in and communicating with each other. There was something of a bidding war behind the scenes. Some wished to get rid of their shares of the building the moment you came in, others wished to purchase those. Really? I asked. Bit weird, no? I suspect that its more a matter of potential risk. As it is, the share price has skyrocketed. I could influence it downwards, but such an obvious manipulation would be noticed. So, the value of the building just went up? I asked. Thats the opposite of what I want. The value of anything is entirely based on a persons willingness to pay for it. In this case, the owners of this building seem entirely willing to write off the monetary value of the building if it means obtaining something that is, to them, more valuable still. Shes saying that the big-wigs want a go at your shiny shiny alien tech, Lucy said. And its worth more than this drafty old place. That made sense, I supposed. Buildings were plentiful, exclusive blueprints to alien tech weren''t. So, think we can get a better deal out of it? I asked. Oh yeah, Lucy said. Just pretend that youll borrow the money from someone else, then when Jessica back there panics, say that youll be willing to trade the place for, like, peanuts. Myalis wavered from side to side a little. As much as I would find that amusing, some of the clients on the line arent entirely clueless about the value of whats being offered. Theyre the ones trying to hold the price steady where it is. Others are driving it up, likely in hopes of selling their shares soon, and still others are selling now while they can. Its an interesting little scenario. Awesome, I said. It was starting to dawn on me that maybe Id be the proud owner of... a place that needed some really extensive renovations. What am I getting myself into? I asked. The usual amount of trouble, Myalis said. Lucy giggled. Usual means that theres also an unusual amount somewhere. I have a tier list, Myalis replied. Lucy pulled me in for a hug, and I easily reciprocated. You alright? she asked. I nodded. Im fine, I said. Its just a lot, you know? But... hey, we might have a place all to our own soon. A really expensive one. Its kinda cool, she said. The kittens will love it. Its kinda stressful, I replied. And yeah, they will, which isnt an endorsement of anything, Ive seen the kinds of things they love. A cough from behind me had me turning. Jessica stood there, somewhat awkward. Miss Stray Cat, I think were ready to continue our negotiations. *** Chapter Forty-Seven - Closing a Deal Chapter Forty-Seven - Closing a Deal Chapter Forty-Seven - Closing a Deal Interior of home-like space. Ruins in the back. Sections on fire. Sheets and furniture from Le Tres Beaus Autumn collection are scattered on the ground. EAST BLADE bursts into the room and looks around. His suit is dirty, his gun is smoking. EAST BLADE Rose? Where are you my sweet Rose? Camera pans to side, revealing ROSEs legs. Bare. She is partially buried in some rubble. EAST BLADE Rose! Oh no, Rose! ROSE coughs. She is hurt. ROSE East? Is that you my blade? What happened? I was enjoying a cool, refreshing Neocola when everything exploded! EAST BLADE rushes to assist Rose. Highlight can on ground. EAST BLADE Dont worry my love, Im here for you! --Excerpt from Screenplay of Katanation Street, Season 30, Episode 4357, aired Jan 2052 *** I really shouldnt have been enjoying myself at someone elses expense so much. It felt... wrong. Mean, at the very least. Like stealing candy from a kid. Now that I thought about it, I was pretty sure Id stolen candy from kids before. Jessica was sweating. I wasnt that keen on reading people, but even I could tell that she was stressing out to the max. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and she kept chewing at her bottom lip. That price isnt entirely reasonable, she said. I shrugged a shoulder. We could buy some other building. Im fond of this one for... reasons, but there are others. Right Myalis? Myalis drone wobbled. Within the next twenty blocks, there are seventeen more areas for sale with a similar footprint, two of which are on the top floors of their respective buildings. See, I said. Not too sure how much those are going for, but its a buyers market, right? I had no idea what a buyers market actually was, but it sounded right. Jessica nodded. Thats true. Would you consider keeping the price at four thousand points? Thats a lot, I said. Half a days worth of fighting aliens, easy. Three thousand is a lot more reasonable. Cool, once thats all done, I guess you can arrange for pick-up of all the stuff your clients want to buy? Jessica nodded. Perhaps when we sign the final contract? At the rate things are moving, that might be tomorrow. Although I dont want to put any pressure on you. Tomorrows fine, I said. So I didnt own the place yet. Just... mostly did. I extended a hand to Jessica, my meatier one, and she jumped before shaking it. Thanks Jess, this was almost fun. Ah, well, thank you, miss Stray Cat. I dont get to do business with samurai often. If youre ever on the market for a new home, or a new building, do remember to call us! Jessica looked quite pleased with herself as she sauntered off. I waved at her back, then turned back around. Weird one, I said. Wonder whats got her so happy? The deal she just struck might not have been worth as much as the building was in sheer monetary value, and in so doing, her company might have lost some potential revenue, but I suspect that the clout of having bargained and, ostensibly, won, with a Vanguard will improve her companys reputation. Usually, when people dealt with me they had pretty crappy reputations, and they didnt get better just from associating with me. Alright, I said. Got that list of things drawn up? I do. To be clear, there are some items that would best be kept in the hands of a Vanguard and not spread to the public at large. Those were removed from consideration. I also drastically reduced the number of weapons available. Thats fair, I said. What kind of stuff isnt for normal folk? A lot of software and many of the components of your Cyberwarfare catalogue. Non-regulated AIs are something of a nuisance. Some items from your Stealth catalogue as well. That sounded reasonable. I moved over to Lucy, then pointed to the main room. Wanna explore our new place? I asked. Lucy grinned. Id love to! she said. Oh, are you going to princess carry me through the threshold? I dont think thats the right tradition for this occasion, I said. So what, we smash a bottle of champagne against the side? I barked a laugh. Only if you plan on turning the place into a ship. Hmm, nah. One of the kittens would fall off the side. Oh, well need guard-rails. Lucy and I took maybe an hour to explore the whole floor. There was that big museum room, shaped like a stubby L that took up all of one side of the building. The rest of the floor had a few dozen rooms. One was a storage area, another a place for staff that linked up to the lobby. There were a pair of doubled washrooms, and that one little nook where wed stopped a few days ago to debug my aug-gear. The corridor that had the shelter at the end was lined with offices on both sides, some of them still filled with officey junk. The main floor can be turned into some sort of opened space, I said. Maybe a mega playroom? That sounds like a bit much, Lucy said. Eh, we can chop part of it off, turn that into a kitchen or something. She nodded. Alright. And the offices can be turned into bedrooms. Theyre about the right size for one-person rooms. Not enough of them for all the kittens, I said. Some of the bigger rooms could be filled with a few bunks. Like we had back at the orphanage, but less... you know, moldy. It was dawning on me just how much work wed just bought for ourselves. Still, it sounded like fun. *** Chapter Forty-Eight - A Date Chapter Forty-Eight - A Date Chapter Forty-Eight - A Date Pick your Battles. --Bloodsuck 2027 *** I wanted to do something nice for Lucy. Not for any reason in particular, it was always... Id had a dream once, while scrolling through my media feeds and looking at videos of some celebrities living the high life. People with a lot of money and a lot of fame, just doing things and probably not realizing that there were people like me, so, so far below them wishing they were in their shoes. It was a stupid sort of day-dream at the time. A what if I could go to that kind of place? or what if I pulled up somewhere in that kind of supercar? Idle fantasies to forget that life was shit, if just for a moment. Life wasnt so shit anymore though. Ready to go home? I asked Lucy. She turned, coat swirling around her, and for a moment clinging to her sides and hips in a way that made my heart skip. Arent we home here? she asked with the kind of dimply smile she always had when she was being cheesy. I looked past her and to the museum, our home. Yeah, but not yet, I said. I wouldnt say something like wherever you are is home. Shed poke me and call me sappy. Alright. Do you know if the kittens are alright? I blinked a few times, navigating through the menus in my augs until I found the status screens for my new cat-mecha. They were all green, and the preview windows that showed me what the robots were seeing revealed glimpses of the kittens in the penthouse, playing games and being lazy little shits. Theyre fine, I said. Cmon, food! Food! Lucy agreed with a cheer. She brought her arms up and made a familiar grabby gesture. With a roll of my eyes I turned around and didnt protest when she jumped onto my back. Youre not twelve anymore, you know, I said as I grabbed her under the knees and pulled her up. I refuse to believe that, Lucy said. I am eternally youthful and adorable. I laughed as I carried her out the front of the museum. Our ride, the Charon Limo-Taxi, was still waiting for us on the roof. It was a bit of a pain getting up there with Lucy weighing me down, especially since she kept complaining about my back-mounted guns digging into her stomach. Not that that was enough to get her to let go, of course. Alright, now get off, I said as I stopped next to the taxi. Not gonna tuck me in? she asked as she leaned her chin onto my head. Nope, but I might drop your skinny ass. She mock-gasped. My ass isnt skinny, its perfect and plump and all that is right in the world. Um? Lucy asked. I grinned. I thought we could grab a bite, you know, before grabbing burgers for the kittens. Lucy looked out the windows. Some men in nice suits and women that had to be models were waiting in a line to enter, a serious looking man at the door checking them off on a floating tablet. This place looks a bit extra. My grin wavered a little. Youd rather go somewhere else? I asked. Lucy hesitated, eyed me, then smiled back. Nah, this is fine. Wish Id come dressed for the occasion. You look fine, I said. Youre biased. I jumped out of the car and ran around the back to open the door for Lucy and to give her a hand out. She giggled at the gesture and stretched. Our little taxi was fancy, but it was out-fancied by all the rides parked around the multi-level parking machines on the other side of the driveway. It was one of those with glass sides so that people could gawk at everyones hundred-million credit supercars. I entwined my fingers with Lucys, and we skipped up the steps to the front. Do we have a reservation, Myalis? I asked. Of course. Cool! I said as I walked past all the fancy sorts and up to the waiter-guy at the front. Yo! I said. Reservation for Stray Cat and Lucy, I said. The man paused in the act of talking to someone important looking. Um, the line is right there, maam, he said. The dude in front of him, some chubby guy in a suit with a New Montreal pin on his lapel glared at me. Rather rude, he said. Ive been called worse, I said. So, we got seats? Maam, youre supposed to wait in line, the waiter said. I dont do great with lines, I explained. The man nodded. I understand. La Maison des Roi can be a very exciting place. Nonetheless, regardless of status, we ask that all of our guests have the common courtesy to wait their turn. Please. I pouted and Lucy giggled, but the guy was right. So I went to the back of the line and pretended not to notice some folk smiling at the bit of drama. Youre an idiot, Lucy said. I thought we could cut in, I said. This isnt some cinema, she said. Its a proper fancy place. Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Well see if you think its all that when you cant read the menu on account of its fanciness. Chapter Forty-Nine - Being Hella Fancy Chapter Forty-Nine - Being Hella Fancy Chapter Forty-Nine - Being Hella Fancy Friendship is what we do here at Broccolis. You want naughty dragons? You want cures for your hysteria? Marital aids? We dont know why our new friends want that kind of stuff so bad, but we have it for them! Our inexpert staff will try their very best to help you have the most fun you can possibly have! All while staying nice and safe. Dont forget to use your friend''s rebate! Ad for Broccolis, an exotic toy store, 2025 *** Id eaten at restaurants before. Who hadnt? The problem was, most of the time... all of the time, those restaurants were cheap little places, with shitty plastic benches angled so that no one would sit on them too long, and 100-credit menus filled with near-foods that somehow managed to taste as real as they were, but were also really addicting. Those places weren''t this one. Hell, I couldnt even pronounce this places name without sounding like I was pretending to be fancy. This way, the waiter said as he led us through the main floor. There were tables here and there, each with a bit of space around them, and walls on three sides with opaque glass and what was probably real wood as trim. There were plenty of people, which might have explained the line out front. This place had enough room for twice as many tables if they were willing to squish people in a little, but no, everyone had a nice chair and like, a candle. I felt entirely out of place. Lucy bumped her shoulder against mine, and I looked over to see her smiling coyly at me. She knew, of course. Right over here misses, watch the step, the waiter said as he brought us up a little platform and to a round table with two seats, one on either end. It was small, not too small, but enough that we would almost be bumping knees. I swallowed and jumped ahead to pull out a chair for Lucy. She went to the other side and pulled out her own chair. I saw the waiters lips twitch as I tried to save face and plop myself down across from Lucy. Your menus are here, he said as he placed two booklets down. Physical menus? Weird, but alright. If you are curious about anything at all, do ask. Ring the bell and I shall be with you within moments. Right, thanks, I said as I kinda gestured aimlessly in his direction. He bowed again and stepped away, disappearing around the corner a moment later. Theres a privacy field around your booth. Low level electromagnetic interference. Not enough to stop any really advanced listening devices, but a nice touch. I almost jumped at Myalis intrusion. I sent her a quick text, just in case she couldnt read the mood, which, as smart as she claimed to be, I didnt doubt that Myalis was able to miss some signs. This is a date, M. Dont do M things. Well, I suppose I can remain quiet and merely observe your fumbling. Do enjoy. I tried not to let my frustration show as I grabbed one of the menus and opened it up. It was bound in leather, with the restaurants name stamped onto the front. Each page was some sort of thick, soft material and it looked as if the items were written by hand. But by someone who knew how to write really well. This is hella fancy, Lucy said. I know, right? I asked. Is this how rich people eat all the time? I glanced at the first item. The page was for... avent-gouts, whatever those were. The first thing on the list, which was in alphabetical order, was Anemone of the Sea, for the low low price of twelve-thousand credits. You could rent an apartment for a week at that price, I muttered. Then the waiter returned with a well-timed clam jam. Hello ladies, have you chosen? Lucy nodded and pulled her hand back so that she could hold up the menu and point at things on it. Ill have one of these. And I dont know what this is, but it sounds good. Also, do you have caviar? Does it actually taste good? I can assure you that ours is only the highest quality that can be obtained, and it is prepared by only the finest chefs, the waiter said. Awesome. Can we wait until after to order more? she asked. I want to be rolled out of here. Certainly, he said with a bow. And for you, miss? he asked me. A glance at the menu didnt help any. I hadnt exactly been focused on reading. Do you have some sort of... meal thing? Like, its set up already? We do. Might I suggest the international meats platter? It has seven varieties of meat from all of the best farms around the world, prepared in seven distinct, local fashions. Its a little heavy but quite popular. That sounds perfect, I said. Lucy and I handed him our menus, then ordered some drinks. Really, it was just water. It didnt feel right to order energy drinks to go with the caviar. So, Lucy said once the waiter was gone. Why this? What do you mean? I asked. She gestured around at the fanciness around out. I dont mind it, its kinda cute, but why? I shifted a little. Its going to sound stupid, I said. Mmhmm, she agreed. But I wanna hear it. I tried to be angry, failed, then rolled my eyes. I wanted to treat you to something nice. You know, like... we never actually went on a date. Weve been on plenty. Going to the corner store together, or stealing from an automated burger joint dont count as dates, I said. Sure they do! Lucy said. They were the best dates. Maybe, but I wanted to bring you to a place like this, I said. Its uh... I looked for something to do with my hands while fighting the creeping warmth of a blush. Lucy giggled and placed her hand on the table again for me to grab. Youre such a softy. Im not, I said. You are. Bitch, I kill things, I said in mock indignation. Lucy laughed at me. I was saved, quite fortunately, by the arrival of the first course and our drinks. I had the impression that Lucy wasnt done teasing me, but at least for the moment there was good food to keep her busy. Chapter Fifty - Salad Chapter Fifty - Salad Chapter Fifty - Salad Its not just fine dining that changed with the arrival of the Antithesis. The first incursions popularized the purchase of long-lasting non-perishables, for good reason, but that had little impact on the world-wide market for food. The biggest change appeared in 2023, during the central-Brazilian incursion. An incursion with few civilian dead, but one that landed quite close to some of the countrys largest agricultural areas. Nearly one-hundred million heads of cattle perished during, or shortly after, the incursion, and with fears about possible biological weapons around incursion zones, the world-wide market for beef took a large downturn. Shortly thereafter, large food conglomerates switched to using synthetic meats in full, something that had only been experimented with before that. --Except from You Arent What You Eat, 2032 *** Lucy ate her salad while making these little noises that were--quite frankly--making me a bit jealous. Id never heard her sounding so... pleased before. Ever. Was I being outdone by a salad? This is so fucking good, she said, mouth still full. Hows your thing? I looked down at my plate and at the seven circles spread out across it. Each one had a little piece of meat, with some sauce expertly drizzled on it, and a little side of vegetables or greens or... stuff. Id eaten one of them so far, a sort of slab of pork that was so soft that it came apart as soon as my fork (which was in fact silver) touched it. The other six were all different, but for the most part each was pretty small. Its good so far, I said as I turned the large plate a little bit. This isnt even the main course and Im loving it, Lucy said. It was a good idea to come here. Cat, you need to find out if this place would sponsor you so that we can eat this every day. I snorted. I dont know, it sounds like a bit of work. Wont the fun wear off? Sex is a lot of work, but its never worn off, I cant see how this is any different, Lucy said. Should I be worried? I asked. You and that salad... Lucy nodded. You should be. If this salad had an ass as nice as yours... well, sometimes a girl has to make difficult choices in life. I was being outdone by a salad. That was effeminating. I jabbed at some sort of brown meat. There was no way to know what it was, but it was juicy and soft and tasted stupidly good. Mmm, I started to say before I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth. So, you think I should do the sponsor thing? Lucy tilted her head as she considered it. I guess? Isnt that what samurai do? I mean, some of them have to be sponsor-less, I said. She shrugged. I guess. Just figured thats the way youd go. Its basically free money, right? Yeah. Dont know who Id accept as a sponsor though. I wouldnt just slap on anyones logo. Can you imagine doing a commercial for like, Pear headphones, and then the week after you learn that theyre using child labour again, Lucy said. Oh, which company was it that had concentration camps with like, minorities working in factories? Theres like, six, I said. Yeah, my aim is... bad. Awful bad. Myalis keeps mocking me about it. But so far Ive been pretty much pulling the trigger and hoping for the best most of the time. Id like to actually learn how to aim. Wow, Lucy said. Thats terrifying. She smiled. Youre so incompetent. Hey! I said. We finished our desserts, then slumped back. The meals hadnt been too big, but they were enough that I was feeling full. Lucy kicked her feet up under the table and managed to only-just place them on my lap. I felt like I could almost fall asleep. There was a faint bit of music playing in the background, nothing too exciting, but a nice lilting song on some string instrument that was accompanied by the clink of glass and utensils. I twitched my new ears and fiddled with their controls. Soon, that music was accompanied by the steady drumbeat of Lucys heart. Do the ladies require anything? the waiter asked. I jumped a bit, having entirely failed to notice him. Oh? Uh, no, Im good, I said. Lucy pulled her feet back and sat up straighter. Me too, she said. We should probably head out soon. I reluctantly agreed. The waiter nodded. In that case, here is the cheque. He placed a piece of paper on the table, then bowed and left. I pulled it over, and winced at the number. There was a barcode next to it, to scan and send the money over via electronic transfer. Bad? Lucy asked. Huh? Nah, just forgot that I could afford these kinds of things now. I got up while my augs worked out how to pay. Ill take care of it. I nodded and reminded myself to thank Myalis later as I moved around the table and helped Lucy up. She leaned against me, arms hugging mine close. Lets go home. Home? I asked. To the kittens, she said. We need to pick something up for them. Yeah, I agreed. I made a note for Myalis to see, telling her to tip the waiter appropriately, then I walked side-by-side with Lucy, all the way out front where our taxi was just pulling up to the curb. Opening the backdoor, I waited for Lucy to get in, but instead she paused, turned around, and climbed to the tips of her toes to plant her lips against mine. She tasted like cake and sweetness and Lucy... and maybe that salad. Damn, it was a good salad. Think we can fuck in the car? she murmured. I felt myself flushing a bit, even as I tried to hold back a grin that was no doubt a bit goofy. Lets find out, I said. *** Interlewd Two Interlewd Two Interlewd Two I barely took in the interior of the cab, too busy wrestling Lucys tongue with my own as we slid into the long backseat. Greetings, honoured customers, the taxi said. Was your meal satisfactory? Mmh, I said. Lucy was scooting towards the middle of the seat, but she still had one hand around my neck and was making sure that my ability to breathe and think was a little on the short end. We broke apart, for just a moment. Yeah, I said. Hotel, bring us to the hotel. Myalis, turn off any observation stuff. I wish I could off my own. There are some things I dont want to see. I snorted, then was cut off when Lucy grabbed the front of my jacket in a fist and pulled me closer. She was on one knee on the seat, her other leg extended to the floor to keep her at an angle. I shifted, sitting up properly. Lucy, I said. She paused, and panted, her warm breath whispering past wet lips. What? she asked. Sit? I asked, patting my lap. She rolled her eyes. Softie, she said. Fine. I grinned as Lucy shoved over and plopped herself down on my lap. I wrapped my arms around her, pressing her close to my chest. Lucy could call me a softie all she wanted, this, having her in my arms all soft and warm, was the best. My head dropped to the nook of her neck and I started peppering her with soft little kisses. I knew that it annoyed her a little. Lucy was always a bit... rougher with her affections, and she liked it like that in return. The taxi started to move, both of us swaying just a little with the shifting momentum. I felt Lucys rear wiggling a little, pushing down onto my lap as I continued to press kisses into her neck and hair. Cat, Lucy whined. I loosened my hug a little, one hand slipping under the stealth jacket Id given her. It was warm under the coat. I pressed my hand over her stomach, then up until it was atop a breast. I squeezed, just a little. Lucy squirmed some more. For fucks sake Cat, she muttered. I wanted to fuck, not just some cuddles. Cuddles are important, I said. Still, I could accommodate a little. Lucy was always very straight-forward about what she wanted. It was one of the things I loved about her. She could play coy too, but it was always easy to read through. This kind of kissing and cuddling and hugging, that just got her worked up, which might have annoyed her, but it always made things a lot more fun later. Lucy pushed back into me. Cat, she muttered. I reached my free hand lower, passing over her belly and down towards her crotch. Lucy was quick to undo her belt for me, and I chuckled as she shifted and raised herself up a little. I reached my hand down, into the warm interior of her pants, then paused. Cat, come on, Lucy said. I nuzzled the collar of her coat aside and nibbled down on her neck. She gasped, chest heaving out a little. I squeezed a bit harder as I started peppering her with kisses again. My other hand dipped lower. I could feel the soft, synthetic cloth of Lucys panties, the band on the edge elastic and springy. I hesitated a little before moving my hand over the panties rather than in. Lucy leaned to the side and turned her head so that I could better kiss her. My searching fingers dipped down between her thighs and over soft warmth. I caressed something velvety and damp. Wet already? I asked. She giggled. Its the salad, I swear. I laughed and pressed another big kiss onto her cheek. That damned salad, I said as I started to move my hand up and down in a long, oval motion. Lucy took a deep breath and shifted a bit, legs open wider and back arching just a little. She was like a cat pressing into a petting hand. I continued the motion absently while fondling her breast with my other hand. She had great breasts. I could say that with no bias at all. Having fun? Lucy asked. Her voice had dropped a little, becoming more sultry. I noticed that one of the hotel guards next to the door was red-faced under his little helmet. Id have been a little embarrassed, but my mind was too foggy for that. We raced over to the penthouse and shoved the door open. I saw kittens in the living room, a couple of them draped over the large mecha-tigers as if they were huge toys rather than war machines. We ordered food from... somewhere, Lucy said as she ran ahead of me. She dipped into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out a pair of water bottles. Were busy, she said. I grinned at the kittens, made sure none were dead, noted that Katallina was sitting with Junior on one couch with Catkillers head on her lap, then waved before moving to the bedroom. We made it one step in, and slammed the door behind us before we were back to ravaging each other. Lucy flung the water bottles to the middle of the bed while we walked over, mouths barely coming apart for more than a second. My core was burning, my entire body tingled, only finding a bit of relief whenever Lucys arms and hands brushed by. I flung my coat off and Lucy did the same with hers. I was wearing my skin-tight armour underneath, and it took some squirming to get out of it. We separated for just a moment as we tore our clothes off. I kept an eye on Lucy the entire time though. Her old t-shirt flew off to the side, leaving her in nothing but a ratty bra that wasnt quite sized right. She tossed that aside with just a moment spent with her arms bent back. My boots came off, then I shoved the bottom half of my suit down my legs. I glanced up and saw Lucy using the edge of the bed to keep balanced as she tugged her pants down. She was trailing juices down the inside of her thigh. My mind was a little foggy as I stepped up behind her and hugged her close. Skin on skin, so warm it burned. I gasped in the scent of her and she pressed into me for just a moment before she started to turn around. I pushed her back, catching her forearms as she squeaked and I lowered her back-first onto the bed, her knees right on the edge. Sliding a foot forward, I pushed her legs aside and fell down atop her, my head landing right between her breasts. Which one did I miss earlier? I asked. Cat, she protested. I kissed her breast, then worked a trail of pecks over to the nipple of the neglected breast. I nibbled on it. Cat! Lucy squeaked. She was trying to push herself up farther onto the bed, but I grabbed onto her hips, stalling her motion so that I could leave a trail of kisses down her stomach and across her abs. She was still wearing panties, the dark grey, store-bought things marred by a proud wet spot on the front. I tugged them down across the soft skin of her thighs. I dipped in, and slowly, carefully, licked her from the bottom up. There was that familiar taste, the one Id come to associate with a really good day. Lucys thighs shifted, squeezing her legs shut before me. It was just something she did whenever she got too excited. I knelt lower, lifted her knees up, and placed one on either shoulder before diving in again. A glance up and I saw that Lucy had her eyes closed, her bottom lip bit, and both hands kneading at her breasts. I grinned as I pressed in. Slow and gentle, teasing. Lucy had once described it as starting like a butterfly landing on a flower, and ending like a dog drinking out of a bowl. I had free hands, so I brought both of them up and spread Lucy open just a little more, then I started to press circles into her opening with the end of my thumb. Id look up every so often, Lucys face, the way her cheeks puffed, the way her eyes squeezed shut whenever I pushed a finger just a little deeper in, it all made me feel warmer and warmer inside. Hell, Id once gotten off on just teasing her for long enough. Her thighs tightened around my head, and I felt her tensing, stomach going taut for a moment even as the flesh around my finger tightened for a bit, almost pulling my finger in deeper. Oh, fuck, Lucy whispered. Not a full on orgasm, but close. My free hand dipped down to my crotch. I still had my panties on, but they were easy enough to push to the side. It was a little like rubbing the top of my head and my stomach at the same time, but I managed. Is it my turn yet? Lucy asked. Hmm? No, I said as I came up. Not until I have you panting for real. Lucy huffed and spread her legs wider while sitting up. She sat on the edge of the bed, reached under my armpits, and pulled me up. Or well, she tried. I gave in with a laugh and climbed down atop her until I was resting over her, my face over hers. You didnt like it? I asked. No, I just want my turn, she said. She pushed me to the side, and I didnt resist as I rolled onto my back and Lucy climbed atop me. Mister Tentacles, she said. Come over here. *** Chapter Fifty-One - Fashioning a Home Chapter Fifty-One - Fashioning a Home Chapter Fifty-One - Fashioning a Home There has been a noticeable shift in style and fashion. Not to say that fashion wasnt changing rapidly already. By the mid-2000s, international communication, the internet, and the easing of travel restrictions allowed fashion from different cultures to come together and be mixed, occasionally homogenized, and often brought to extremes. Now, this shifting has become so rapid that to stay on top of the latest trends means keeping a constant eye on the fashion feeds and paparazzi rags. A trend can start, flourish, and die in the space of an afternoon. --Fa-Fa-Fashionista, On The Evolution of Trends, 2057 *** I walked over to the other side of the display and leaned forwards to look at the wire-mesh interior. It showed most of the museum--and wed have to find a better name for our new home soon--in red, with a few sections in green. Myalis had determined that all of the red sections would need to be replaced and reconfigured sometime soon, preferably before anyone moved in. So, this is the final floor plan? Lucy asked. I nodded along. Yeah, I think so, I said. The floor plan gave us ten double bedrooms, good enough for a pair of kittens each, two bigger dorm-style rooms with a few beds in them for any newcomers, and a master bedroom one corridor over. Not too far that we couldnt run over, but not right next to the kittens either. The main museum area would be split into a kitchen and dining space, a playroom that was frankly absurdly large, and another little area that could serve as an office or library of sorts for the quieter kittens. We had one bathroom for every two rooms, with showers in each, and a smaller washroom next to the kitchen. The old vault was right where our bedroom would be, with the rear half of it marked to be replaced by a small armoury where I could store stuff. The outside wasnt going to be touched much. Wed hire someone to remove all the ads and signs and such, and maybe wed add a carport over the parking space for... well, wed have to buy a van or something. Id pick whichever old beater would give Gomorrah the biggest headache. Lucy nodded. I like it. Well have to see about getting nice furniture too. I think we can afford that, I said before glancing to the side. We had brought over the Dumbasses, both to guard the museum, and to allow us to better communicate with Myalis. It was one of the drones that was projecting the image of the buildings wireframe, and another was sitting nearby, waiting patiently. Have you found any reliable contractors yet? I have, Myalis said. From looking into their records, I have found three suitably accredited teams with overlapping specialties. I would suggest hiring all three. All three? I repeated. Indeed. One has done satisfactory plumbing work on past installations, another has an entire team of electricians, and the final construction company has experience working with both Vanguards, and glass-fronted skyscrapers. The other two lack experience in both. Ah, I said. So hiring specialists to do the specialist-requiring... stuff. I was so far out of my depth... That sounds reasonable. Do you have an idea of their price range? Seven, nine, and twelve million credits, respectively. Thats not including the entirety of the material cost, but Im assuming some of that will be defrayed by the use of Vanguard-grade materials. I held back a wince. That was... twenty-eight million? An insane amount of money. So, for the materials, we cant build this whole place with samurai-grade stuff, itll take way too many points. That is accurate, Myalis said. To purchase enough material directly to rebuild this entire area would cost--assuming you want to purchase quality materials--something close to nine thousand points. That was a lot lower than Id guesstimated. Thats just normal materials, or fancier stuff? A significant amount, though less than half your initial amount. Right, lets set some of that aside for decorations and furniture and stuff. Well need tables and chairs and... wait, we can just fabricate those, right? With the correct blueprints, yes. I rubbed at my nose. That was annoying. Itll probably be cheaper to just buy normal things then. Dont need to get a blueprint for a dozen beds. Not even our bed? Lucy asked. I considered that. A samurai bed... Okay, so we get one bed, but the kittens can sleep on whatever we can afford for a few million. Speaking of monetary concerns, the list of requests from companies who sold you this location has come in. Oh? Can I see it? Myalis connected with my augs and I soon had a list hovering before one eye. Purchase CostQuantity or TypeNameDetails 45 Blueprint Anti-Adware Suite Basic Cyberwarfare Catalogue - Protects simple devices from non-whitelisted ad intrusion 75 Blueprint Anti-Spyware Suite Basic Cyberwarfare Catalogue - Protects simple devices from non-whitelisted spyware intrusion 25 Blueprint Micro Acoustic Listening Device Stealth Catalogue - Miniature listening and recording device 1275 Blueprint Clothing Creation Fabricator Decoy Catalogue - System to create clothes from modelled template 720 Blueprint Hard Light Projector Decoy Catalogue - Miniaturized hard light projector for small cosmetic items 260 Blueprint Decoy Super Aug Decoy Catalogue - A false version of the Vanguard customizable eye gear 525 Item x 35 Nano- Regenerative Suite Medical Utilities Catalogue - A suite of nano machines that circulate through a person''s body and fixes it rapidly 290 Blueprint Feline Cat Reflex Augmentation Sunwatcher Technologies - Reflex enhancing brain implant 285 Blueprint Prosthetic Ears Sunwatcher Technologies - Ear Augmentation Total: 3500 Nearly all blueprints, which, alright, and... lots of decoy stuff. From the bickering I was listening in on, it seems that some companies came together and desperately wanted to buy a clothing fabricator system. I suspect you might cause a bit of a fluctuation in some global markets. Congratulations. Wonderful. *** Chapter Fifty-Two - Fab Chapter Fifty-Two - Fab Chapter Fifty-Two - Fab Fandoms are an interesting social phenomena. People who enjoy a piece of media or a celebrity congregate together to discuss the things they like. At the onset, this is completely normal human behaviour. What makes the phenomena more interesting is how modern societys trend towards mass communication allows this communication to spawn new artwork, new memes, and new sub-groups. It turns into an echo chamber, where ideas are reinforced and repeated and reiterated upon. It isnt terribly uncommon for early fandoms to focus on something entirely new, for example a freshly emerged Samurai. They will find, research, and dissect any bit of information they can about the new object for their obsession. This can come as a shock to some Samurai. For example, Hairumas, a Samurai interviewed in 2034 said, I didnt expect it. All of a sudden these guys and girls with afros just kept asking me to sign stuff. It was wild! --Excerpt from a Scientific Yesterday paper, 2036 *** Okay, I said as we reached the vault. It was in about the same condition as I remembered, minus the dead bodies. The floor had little pock-marks as if something had eaten away at it, mostly round where I remembered the corpses being. That felt like it had been months ago. Well start by paying the corps their due, I guess. Huh? Lucy asked. Yeah, Myalis gave me the list of shit the building sellers want. Its all blueprints except for a bunch of nano-regen things, I said. Think theres a box around here we could dump them in? The Dumbass following up piped up at that. The containers most items come in are stackable. Shall I inform the broker that the thirty-five Nano-Regenerative Suites are ready for pick-up? Yeah, sure, I said. We can leave them at the door I guess, with one of the Dumbasses. What else did they buy? And whats those nano-whatsit do? They inject these little bots in you that un-messes you up. I think thats what I gave you for your MS, right? Crap, I cant remember. Anyway, I guess some rich dudes just want to live longer or whatever. Nano Regenerative Suites can alleviate a lot of the ills caused by aging. Issues with joints, with eyesight, minor stress issues in musculature and in the cardio-vascular system. Even an outwardly healthy human has hundreds of very minor issues that can be repaired, Myalis said. As for the other stuff they bought... I looked over the list again. Just blueprints. A lot of clothing stuff from my decoy catalogue, some cyberwarfare stuff. Uh, mostly looks like protection stuff. I limited the offensive options, Myalis said. Giving offensive electronic warfare packages to just anyone seemed like a bad idea. No shit, I muttered. Lucy shrugged, Alright then. So were buying that big machine that makes stuff? Yup, I said. Blueprints and nano stuff first though. Can you not swarm my augs with messages though? That little chiming noise is a bit annoying. Very well. New Purchases: Blueprints x 8 - Various. Nano-Regenerative Suit x 35 Points Reduced to... 3420! I winced at seeing my points total dropping so low. The blueprints have been sent. You also retain a copy for yourself, of course. Ohh, so we can make stuff! Lucy said. Can I see the list? Did you customize the loading screen? I asked. I may have, Myalis admitted. I also added a loading screen. Its quite unnecessary. I rolled my eyes and refocused on the screen. There was a list of options for Lucy to pick from. All of the blueprints Id just bought to buy the museum, and one labelled generic materials. Lucy picked the Prosthetic Ears option and scrolled through that for a bit. There were some two dozen options, and the ability to customize those further. From adding colour to tweaking how the prosthetic worked. Do you think Id look cool with cat ears? she asked. Yours are really cute. Theyre embarrassing, I said. I couldnt help but flick them back. They wiggle a bunch when youre about to get off, Lucy said without even glancing back. My more human ears felt warm. They what? Its cute! Dammit Lucy, I groaned. You should have told me. She shook her head, then pointed to the screen. Pink? The ears on display were an ear-searingly bright pink, like someone had gone nuts with a radioactive high-lighter. Thats a bit much, I said. Yeah, I should go for something that matches my hair, she said before tapping a colour-wheel option. I shook my head. Are you really getting cat-ears? Do you not want me to? Lucy asked. I huffed. Me telling Lucy not to do something had never prevented Lucy from doing something she already wanted to do. I couldnt see how that would change now. Its up to you, I guess. Dont see why youd want that, your ears work fine. So do yours, Lucy said. I just wanna be on-theme. On theme? Well, yeah, theres you, Stray Cat, with the tail and the ears and the cat-themed jacket. And then there are the kittens, then theres me. Im the only part of the equation thats not cat-themed. I stepped up and hugged Lucy from behind. Youre such a moron, I said. I am not, she protested. Not that she tried to move out of the hug. I was enjoying the moment when Myalis twitched. Catherine, you have a visitor. One of the contractors? I asked. Already? No. Its Deus Ex. Oh, fuck, I said. The little laser girl? Lucy asked as she pulled out of the hug. Did you have business with her? No, but shes the sort to dump some trouble on me. Come on, lets go see what the pipsqueak wants. *** Chapter Fifty-Three - Palace Chapter Fifty-Three - Palace Chapter Fifty-Three - Palace Samurai are incredible. But they are not infallible. -Two-Slices, June 2023 *** Deus Ex somehow chose not to act like the little laser gremlin that she was, and waited outside for Lucy and I to come and greet her. Maybe it was a courtesy thing. Or maybe samurai didnt step into each others bases without permission because of... common sense or something. That might make sense, actually. I opened the front door and held it open behind me for Lucy and the Dumbass that Myalis was currently controlling. Across from me, on the wide surface of the landing area that took up a chunk of our floor, was Deus Ex, the girl sitting on one of her twin laser... hover... things. Yo! I said. Deus blinked. Oh, hey, she said. New place? Yup, bought it yesterday, I said. She nodded. Nice. I have work for you. I crossed my arms. You know, most people work up to their requests. Maybe a bit of small-talk? Some questions about the family? Polite shit. Do either of us care about that? she asked. Well, no, but itd be nice to pretend. Lucy waved. Hi Deus Ex! Hello, Deus Ex said. Fine, I guess we can do the small talk stuff. I need a bit of a breather. And I guess the works not until tonight anyway. What work? I asked. Lucy poked me. You literally just agreed to do small talk first. Come on Deus! We have vending machines left over. We can grab you something to drink. What do you like? Ah, um, anything, I guess? Deus Ex said. I eyed the girl for a moment. She wasnt being as rambunctious as usual. Then again, last time I saw her she didnt have bags under her eyes either. Have you been sleeping? I asked. Not since the New Montreal incursion started, no, she admitted. Im running on stims. Or I was, theyre wearing off. I took a cleansing solution to wash them out. I should be fine by tomorrow. You need sleep, I said. Deus Ex rolled her eyes as she picked out the drink with the most caffeine and sugar from the bunch and popped the tab. During the last incursion, the one that hit New Montreal, we had some difficulty tracking the landing area for most of the antithesis pods, she began. Dont samurai have great equipment for that? Lucy asked. We do, but its a bit scattered. It really depends on the city. New Montreal was last hit, uh, I don''t know, a decade ago? The system currently in place was built right after that. Its not as good as it could be. Alright, I said. So you dont know where every bit of alien goop landed. Not all of them, no. Those that fell from high-orbit are easy to track. We have overlapping scans of them coming down and can extrapolate from there. Then those in lower orbits were mostly visible from hover car dash-cams and street sonar. So we know where they went too. But it took a while for someone to decide to look into all the footage to make sure we werent missing anything. And you missed something? I asked. She nodded. There are samurai that dont like high-risk work. They tend to come in after an incursion to help with the clean-up stuff. It means killing a few aliens and clearing the sewers and the area around a hive, usually with drones and stuff. Theyre useful Vanguards, but they grow really slowly. But its safe, I guessed. Yeah, Deus Ex said. I dont like that kind of work. Its not rewarding enough. Maybe half the Vanguard out there become that sort. Anyway, one of them tracked a bit of antithesis debris to--actually, can I use your drone? Go ahead, I said. Myalis hopped onto the table with cat-like grace. What do you wish to display? she asked. Oh, its your AI. Nice. Ah, these maps, and this file, as well as this, Deus Ex said. Thank you. Shes more polite to Myalis than to you, Lucy mock-whispered. The AI deserves it, Deus Ex said. It stung all the more since she delivered it as a plain fact. Myalis projected a holographic image of the Earth, then moved in on North America and finally the area we were in. Little black dots hovered in the air, and I recognized antithesis pods. They were falling slowly towards the city below. Thats a reconstruction made from hundreds of recordings, Deus Ex said. Look at this piece. One pod burst apart when a line of AA fire moved past it. Not through it though. From the wreckage came something that looked fleshy and that sprouted wings, and that then turned blurry. Bad angle? I asked. No. Organic ECM. A stealth antithesis. Maybe a new model. Lower active combat threat rating, but in this scenario more of a long-term threat. It glided all the way over to... here. The map shifted, showing a red dotted trajectory that went north, shifting here and there so that it was never quite a straight line until, finally, it hit near a small town. Thats Black Bear. Its a mining town with a population of about three thousand in what used to be the Mastigouche nature reserve. And about three hours ago, all contact with the town was lost. We think theres a small stealth hive growing near there, and we need someone to go blow it up. *** Chapter Fifty-Four - Phoenix Chapter Fifty-Four - Phoenix Chapter Fifty-Four - Phoenix Its a polite and accepted fiction that an incursion is defeated when the samurai swoop in and kill the last alien trying to ruin humanity. The truth is a lot more complex, mostly owing to the mechanism by which our alien invaders function. They adapt. They are not a singular living organism, but a collection of different types of creatures that can evolve and change to best accommodate any given circumstance. These changes are, generally, fairly slow; but they are fast enough to be troublesome. The truth was discovered in 2022, when the Ohio incursion returned from the ashes, and humanity discovered that the Antithesis could burrow and hide and scheme while we expected them to remain dead. --William Hart, Excerpt from Essay on the Recursion-Factor of Antithesis Incursions, 2028 *** I leaned back in my seat and stared at the map. The ex-nature reserve, according to the Wikipedia article Myalis brought up for me, was sold to an organization that was all about protecting nature and such. That organization was a shell owned by a mining consortium that immediately set up shop to mine... What the fuck is vanadium? Lucy shrugged and Deus Ex blinked a few times. Its a metal used to make alloys of other metals. Why are you asking that? Says here that Black Bear is set up near two mines. Ones a vanadium mine, the other titanium. I know what titanium is. Does it matter? Deus Ex asked. Well, maybe it was like, a uranium mine or something? Radioactive antithesis doesnt sound like something Im keen on dealing with. She nodded. Right. Those are annoying. I really shouldnt argue against doing more research. Anyway, Black Bear is the priority. Theres one Vanguard already on the scene, but hes not the greatest when it comes to defensive actions. Thats why I wanted to send you. Um, I love Cat, but I dont know if she can take on all the aliens on her own, Lucy said. Its a stealth incursion, Deus Ex said. Theyll follow different rules. Most big incursions are swarming ones. The Antithesis produce as many creatures as they can and spread out quickly while fighting off whatever resistance theyre up against. A stealth incursion is significantly slower. Theres going to be a hive, but it will look very similar to the nature around it. So why dont we just use some fancy tech to find the hive and carpet bomb it? I asked. Thats... exactly what we want to do. Deus Ex stared at the dumbass still standing on the table, and soon it displayed an image of the globe. Just the hemisphere that we were on. The incursion is here. A red dot appeared. So were going to strike... like this. Blue dots appeared around the red one, forming a circle that went most of the way around it. Then another set of dots appeared closer. Then another. Each one overlapped with the previous a little, and each new circle was closer to the middle until finally a single dot hit the red dot dead-centre. Are those bombs? Orbital strikes, Deus Ex explained. We dont use those in cities. The earthquakes they cause tend to be bad for infrastructure. I imagine, Lucy said. So why do you need Cat if youre going to bomb the place from orbit? Its a strike, not a bombing, technically. And we need Vanguard to protect Black Bear. If the city went off the grid, that means its being attacked already. They might not even know it yet. The one Vanguard we have on-scene is... not very useful for that kind of thing. Basically, make sure the civilians are safe while we bomb the hive, then help with the clean-up after. Shes kinda nice, deep inside, Lucy said. I snorted. Shes a bit nuts. Lucy leaned in closer. Are you going to go? Its good credits, and I could use the points, I said. Her grip around my arm tightened. Its dangerous. Yeah, but everything is, I said. Dont be like that, you know what I meant. I sighed and turned to plant a kiss on her forehead. Ill be fine, I said. Promise. Plus, Gomorrah will be there. I think the most dangerous part of the whole thing will be holding back from corrupting her. Lucy snorted as she pulled me into a hug. Fine then, she said before her hands started to wander. Just come back, okay? Sure thing, I said. We returned back into the museum, and I split from Lucy for a moment to make a call. She had plenty to keep her busy, especially since Myalis was there to help her contact all the contractors wed be needing to get the place fixed up. At least we had more cash secure for that, or would soon enough. I searched through my contacts until I found Gomorrahs number. It rang once before she answered. Cat? Heya Gomorrah, I said. Whats up? Not very much, is something wrong? Yup, I said. Theres an incursion up north. An hours flight from New Montreal near some little town. Place called Black Bear. Theres a samurai there already, and theyre about to go all orbital strike on the hive, but the folk there need some people to keep them safe. Are you serious? she asked. Yeah. Dead serious. Wanna come over to my new place? We can chat in person, then head out if you want to. Theres more points to be made, and you know, civilians to protect and all that. Gomorrah took a moment to reply, and when she did, it was with a big sigh. Im on my way. Youre the second best, I said as I hung up. It made Lucy smile. I made sure to send her the museums address too. Now I just had to wait... and maybe get all of my gear together. I had the impression that things would be a bit more hectic than what Deus Ex implied. *** Chapter Fifty-Five - Making an Entrance Chapter Fifty-Five - Making an Entrance Chapter Fifty-Five - Making an Entrance Post-2020 saw a massive surge of people moving into the cities and new megacities appearing all over the world. A surge that hadnt been seen since the height of the industrial revolution. Despite that, the small-town didnt just disappear. Entire businesses formed that catered specifically to people living in rural towns across the world. They became popular places for the rich to spend their retirement years away from the pressure of the city, and for the lucky few that retired to live out the rest of their lives in relative quiet. That does not mean that small towns are perfect hamlets of civility. All the issues of poverty, hunger, and the gulf between rich and poor are just as prevalent in these towns, especially in the many, many corpo-burgs--corporate-owned towns--that started to appear near larger cities. --Commentary on the Shift in Small Town Thoughts, Tim Butcher, 2038 *** I gave Lucy a kiss before going. Then, because Gomorrah hadnt arrived yet, I gave her another, then another. Unfortunately, we were both still dressed when Myalis pinged me to inform me that Gomorrah had landed out front. Be careful, Lucy ordered. I gave her a last hug for the road, pressing her close to me. She fit the way only Lucy did. I will be, I promised before letting go. I ducked my ears down flat on my head as I stepped out into the rain, then belatedly tucked my helmet on. Gomorrah had parked Gods Righteous Fury right in the middle of our landing zone, the car all wet and sleek as if it was posing for one of those hyper-real commercials. I could almost hear the snobbish narrator telling the audience that they would never be able to afford a car this awesome. I ran to the passenger side just as the door opened with a pneumatic hiss, then I flung my Whisper in the back and placed my new grenade launcher on my lap as I fell onto the seat. Yo. Are your feet in? she asked as she pressed the gas. We were off the edge before the door had even sealed. I leaned into the cushions as Gomorrah aimed us into the greyed sky. So, uh, whats up? Youre really not good at pleasantries, you know? Oh yeah, I know, but its polite to pretend to be nice to your friends, I said. Hmph, she said. Do you have any idea what the sisters at the monastery would say if they saw you calling me a friend? Theyd ask who the smoking hot girl youre with is? I tried. She shook her head. If they didnt think I was some sort of saint theyd pull out the ruler and go on about bad influences for an hour. The ruler, huh? I asked. You should tell Lucy about that, she was always really keen on spanking disobedient girls... do you think Lucy could cut it as a nun? No, Gomorrah said. How is it that weve been together for less than a minute and youre already being a pervert? Model Threes, running on all fours like a pack of hounds, some leaping onto cars, others slipping around them. And facing them from behind a row of squad cars were some five or six police officers. They were right before the schools main entrance. Damn, I said. Myalis, can you figure out whats going on? I believe so. The protocol in case of an incursion near Black Bear is to resume work until company representatives can verify the veracity of any claims, calculate potential losses, then allocate their employees to shelters. I will note that there are no shelters in the town that meet any major criteria. Shit, I said. In defiance of this, it seems as if the locals have unanimously declared that none of their machinery was functional today, and have sought shelter in the local high-school. Company police have acted against this. From their recordings, it seems they were at the school to clear it out when the first Antithesis arrived. Damnation, Gomorrah said. She flicked something on her yoke and a dozen cross-hairs appeared on the windshield, then zipped around to aim more-or-less right at the nearest aliens. Firing. Firing what? I asked. Then the Fury spat out a volley of screaming missiles that spun in the air, realigned with the ground, and blasted the town below, sending fire and concrete and bits of hovercars all over. Now they know were here, she said. Shit, I said. Okay, we need to defend this town... the entire town. How many people have made it to the school? Unknown. Certainly less than the entire population. Right... shit, Gomorrah, can you drop me off by the front. Theres supposed to be some other samurai here. We need to get into contact. Ill talk to the locals in the mean-time. Can you waste a few more of those rockets on any big pack? And then? she asked. I think we need to draw all the civvies to one place and barricade it in. Itll be easier to protect them that way. We can install turrets and mines and shit. Worry about clearing the town later. So Ill play air-support? she asked. Land Fury somewhere safe if you want, I said. Im not your boss. Just not keen on seeing folk die. The nun nodded and spun us around while lowering the car. The passenger door opened when we were still a meter off the ground. Call me if you need me, Ill be farming points the easy way. See ya, I said as I stood, grabbed my crossbow from the back, then dropped to the ground to land with a crouch. The Fury pulled up with a wash of warm air, leaving me alone in front of some half-dozen guys in blue uniforms. Sup? I asked. Hear you guys had an alien problem? *** Chapter Fifty-Six - Small and in Charge Chapter Fifty-Six - Small and in Charge Chapter Fifty-Six - Small and in Charge There are all sorts of reactions to someone seeing a Samurai show up, and generally, these reactions will depend on circumstance.Th.e? most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m Fear and terror are common among those doing things that are morally dubious. Seeing a samurai show up at an underground human auction is never going to please the organizers. Awe and worship for those who encounter a samurai on the streets. Its a privileged encounter with a celebrity for most. And finally, relief, most often felt by those fearing for their lives when a samurai appears and decides that whatever is currently a threat needs to be removed. --Except from a sociological study on the predictable responses to a samurais appearance, 2028 *** I took a deep breath and tried to look confident. Then I recalled that the folk I was dealing with were little better than corporate goons. Worse, they were corporate cops. That was like dealing with a toddler that had taken one or two concussions too many and whos only skill was to figure out exactly how much of a minority someone was or how poor they were before shooting them. I didnt need confidence to deal with these dipshits, I needed a bigger gun. Walking over to the barricade theyd made with their cars, I stepped onto a bumper, then the hood before jumping over to the other side. There were eight of them, a couple more than Id counted at first. Mostly men, with navy blue uniforms and bulletproof vests and tacticool handguns and a shotgun or three. Which one of yous the asshole in charge? I asked. I am, One of them said. He had a little logo on his shoulder that the others didnt. The police stations symbol, then the logo of the local mining company, then some badge. Wrong, I am the asshole in charge now, I said. How many cops do we have, minion? Alright, so it was rude and stupid, but the look on the guys face was worth it, and I needed to cut past the bullshittery as soon as I could. Um, the captain--I assumed that was his rank--said. We have twenty-four officers in this town, maam. Seventeen of them are here. We have a squad-car down the road with two more on their way in, and four others are at the clinic. I nodded. Myalis, I need a map of this place, please. I like the location label, I deadpanned. The huge yellow You Are Here was a bit much. Still, that gave me an idea of what the town looked like. It had a decent footprint, but most of the buildings were on the smaller side. Maam? the captain asked. Right. The highschools the new rally point. Is there enough room here for every civilian in town? The building capacity is just under two-thousand, he said. Fuck capacity, I mean how many folk can we cram in here so that theyre not in our way while were trying to save them all? Huh? Nah, everyone. Those who cant walk well carry. Its like.. What, about a kilometer? Its less than half of that. Half that, I corrected. Pretty sure even a fatass could run that if you scare them enough. I need... six cops to help me.... I counted those that were left. There were three. Had one of them that I didnt point to run off? Well, whatever. Okay, well need volunteers. Only certified personnel can ride in our vehicles, Captain minion said. What? Says who? I asked. Company policy. I stared at him. Minion, did you miss the part where Im the asshole in charge now? I pointed to the female cop. You seem less stupid, Im promoting you. Youre now Minion Captain. Uh, yes maam?! the officer said before snapping a quick salute. My decision had nothing to do with me liking the look of a girl in uniform. I nodded and stepped aside, then flicked through my augs until I found Gomorrahs contact info. It didnt even ring once before she answered. Got everything under control? she asked. Probably, I said. Im moving all these people from the school to the corporate headquarters. They have walls and defences in place already. Im sticking some turrets onto these cop cars too to keep people safe while we move. Howre things on your end? Fine. Havent made that many more points. One moment. I heard a distant explosion. Still making enough to justify the cost of these rockets. You said there was another samurai in town? Yeah, any sight of them? Not yet. Ill fly over your group once you get them moving. Try not to get people killed. Hey now, only people I want to kill tend to die when I try to... Im not actually sure where I was going with that one. Anyway, see you in a bit, just keep the skies clear for us. I hung up and finally walked into the school, my new minion captain on my heels. The inside looked... like a school in one of those shows. A big open hall with a trophy cabinet on one side, and what was obviously student-made art on the walls. There were pictures of graduates and a few banners hanging from the ceiling. I could almost imagine all the cookie-cutter characters gossiping and doing rural high school shit. Instead, there were dozens of people, some of them looking terrified, others trying to smile and laugh despite it all, and more of them fiddling with their phones or augs to keep distracted. A group of small kids were playing together to one side, making plenty of noise. Crap, I said as I took in the number of people Id actually be responsible for. Nothing was ever simple. *** Chapter Fifty-Seven - Greedy Bits Chapter Fifty-Seven - Greedy Bits Chapter Fifty-Seven - Greedy Bits Sometimes, the greediest thing you can do, is to give unto others. --Riches to Rags, a guide on Corporate Living *** Minion Captain, I began. Why is this taking so long? Initially, things had moved pretty quickly. People had started to rush about, the cops barking orders that were repeated by others. There seemed to be a local fire-brigade out and about, some twenty volunteers who were helping to organize things, and some others were assisting them too. I supposed that moments like these were make-or-break for a lot of people. I had stepped out, and with Myalis help, bought three cat mecha. They were useful, mobile, and able to attack and defend fairly well as far as I could tell. That, and we could use them to corral people. They could even speak in that they had speakers built in that I could shout at people with. I had considered turrets, but turrets could have been made by just about any corp out there. They didnt serve to remind people that there was a samurai on the scene, it just said hey, the cops have even more guns than usual, and that was the opposite of reassuring. They also werent mobile, and while they had more firepower-per-point, I figured being able to move was more important. New Purchase: P.U.S.S. Model Y - Security Mechs - Combat Models - Three Points reduced to... 35 Wed just need to stay mum about the name. So, things had started off well. The cat-bots were suitably impressive, there werent any aliens coming around to chow on the civvies, and things were moving. Well? I asked my newly appointed minion. The police woman hesitated. Were nearly done. We were going to just move everyone as one big group, but, ah, we ran into issues? Issues? I repeated. She shrugged. People want to arrive at the headquarters in order of seniority. Others want to make sure the children are safest. Theres some fighting upstairs. I wanted to pinch my brow. Everyone knows that if we dont get moving soon, everyone here will become alien chow, right? She took a moment before nodding. It was an entirely meaningless shape, surrounded by architecture that was just as useless. The rest of the building was good old brutalist. Square and plain. I much preferred that kind of look. You could always trust a square. The fence around the building was decorated to look a bit less like a fence, with curvy bits of metal on the outside and spiked bars above instead of barbed wire. The gate though, was just a massive slab of steel, one that was slowly opening as we approached. There were weapon emplacements all along the fenceline. Mostly sonic-weapons. There were more conventional kinetic weapons within. A glance inside revealed quaint little statuettes at even intervals along the inside. They had benches next to them, and little water fountains for drinking. Id bet a couple of credits that those were to hide the guns theyd use on anyone dumb enough to riot. A man ran out of the compound in full gear. Armoured chestpiece and hard-plastic plates over his arms and thighs. He even had a half-visored helmet on. Hello, he said as he came closer. Are you the samurai? Im one of them, I said. There should be three of us here. Gomorrahs in the muscle car. No clue where the third one is. And you want to bring all of these employees into the headquarters? he asked. His jaw set. I sighed. There was the trouble I was expecting. Yeah. Looks a whole hell of a lot safer in here. The corpo cop paused. Very well. We have authority from the higher-ups to allow any citizen of Black Bear into the headquarters. As long as they stay out of certain areas and remain calm, there shouldnt be an issue. Stay out of what areas? I asked. Research and Development, on floor three, the server rooms in the basement, and the NeoPinkerton armoury on the first floor. Were collapsing cubicles on most of the office floors to make more room already. Oh, I said. That sounded... reasonable. Well, okay then. Ill be leaving three of my mecha cats with you guys. They should help if any aliens break past the walls, which they might. The man nodded. Thank you. We could use more AA support. The best we have are a few anti-drone countermeasures on the roof, but thats the best weve got against flying targets. Uh, Ill talk to Gomorrah, then. You seem confused. I nodded to the cops, then tapped the side of my head in the universal Im on a call sign before backing away. The civvies were already filing in, escorted by a few more guards in armour who ran out to funnel them into the headquarters. I was expecting... corpo fuckery, I said. Humans can be vindictive, needlessly cruel and can lack empathy at the worst times. But they are generally quite good when it comes to doing what they think is in their best interest. Sometimes that math works out to meaning that the best thing to do in any given moment, is to help those they can as best they can. In this case, some of the administrators of this company judged that assisting their workers would mean that those same workers would be able to return to work sooner, and with less ill-will against the corporation as a whole. Thanks, I said. It really helps when you point out where the greedy bits are in all of this. Youre welcome! Chapter Fifty-Eight - Gimmick Chapter Fifty-Eight - Gimmick Chapter Fifty-Eight - Gimmick Not all samurai have a gimmick, but nearly all of them do. These sometimes form from necessity or preference. A samurai adopting a certain kind of weaponry might specialize in that. Others prefer taking a certain role, and will purchase equipment according to that. Still others will find a theme, and over time, will push and develop that to its sometimes illogical extreme. --Fa-Fa-Fashionista, On The Evolution of Trends, 2057 *** Cat? I jumped a little at the sound of my name. It didnt take much more than a second to place the voice though. Gomorrah, talking to me through my augs. Yeah? I asked. I was stationed just outside of the headquarters in the middle of town, watching the last of the civilians running over. A few other families, and the rare single person, had been joining the file of people filtering into the big building behind me. That meant that there were probably still hundreds of people in the town. Id need to figure out a way to gather them all up and bring them over to the headquarters. Easier said than done, I figured. Cat, I found the third Samurai. Hes livestreaming things from the east-end of town. Seriously? I asked. Yeah. Thats where the antithesis are mostly coming from. Its probably for the best, actually, the headquarters arent too far from the eastern edge of the town, so anyone who wants to find cover will have him between them and most of the aliens. I nodded along. We still need to let people know. Ive been working on it, she said. Really? Do you think Ive been sitting up here enjoying the Furys AC and twiddling my thumbs? Atyacus and I broke into all the televisions and phones and augs we could reach in Black Bear and have been directing people over to the company headquarters. I might have to swing around to escort some of the groups closer to the edges, theyre too far to be able to run over here. Right, I said. It was easy to forget that I wasnt the only samurai around. So now what? We sit pretty and snipe at any aliens coming our way? I was thinking you could head over to our new samurai friend. We both know how great you are at making nice with people, Gomorrah said without a hint of sarcasm. She was pretty good at the whole deadpan thing, though. I nodded along. Fair enough. Itll mean being closer to the action too. Ill leave my cats here to guard the headquarters. Worst case scenario, none of us should be too far away. Do you think Atyacus and Myalis can work together to keep an eye on the civvies? They should be able to manage. Especially if your drones are around to see any antithesis before they cause any trouble. I waited until I got a few affirmatives, then minimized the chat box so that it was out of the way. It was time, at long last, to be stealthy. I shifted my Icarus grenade launcher so that it was tucked under my long coat, then I brought my Whisper around so that the crossbow was cradled against my chest. And then I activated all of my stealth things. My coat warped then went invisible. I was now little more than feet and hands and a big crossbow. Presumably a head and helmet as well. I tugged my coat on tighter and kept on walking. From the glimpses I caught in the windows of the homes and little businesses I passed, I wasnt impossible to notice, but I certainly wasnt as visible as I would have been otherwise. Not as stealthy as Id want, I said. You could be better, yes. Youre mostly hidden, visually, but the parts of you that arent will give away your position. You can also be identified using other senses. Many antithesis can sense changes in air pressure, others can sense heat, and of course acute hearing is quite common across many models. And that only covers some of the more basic senses. Hmm, I muttered. Yeah, I guess thatll be the next step. Im sure theres shit for that? Of course. The solutions that cover every possibility do tend to be a little more expensive. Unless this incursion is far more profitable than I predict, I dont think that kind of expense would be in your best interest. Bit by bit then, I said. Well patch whatever holes we find as they come up. I shifted Whisper so that it was tucked against my shoulder and approached the next corner a little more cautiously. The streets here were vacant, some ads behind glass storefronts still playing, and the single red light strung over the intersection blinked, but otherwise there wasnt much of note. Black Bear felt weird. Maybe that was just me being a city girl though. The place was more open than I was used to, with no hovercar traffic and buildings that I could look up to without craning my neck back. I kind of expected to see cows or whatever there was in the countryside, but I figured this wasnt quite that kind of place. Myalis, can you slip into the towns cameras and such? There isnt much as far as security infrastructure goes. Thats alright. I just want to have more eyes around us. Do you know where that other samurai is? The Vanguard is just ahead. My ears twitched as I started to hear something. It was... music. Heavy metal music, interspersed by the grumble of a chainsaw. I started to feel somewhat concerned. *** Chapter Fifty-Nine - Cause Player Chapter Fifty-Nine - Cause Player Chapter Fifty-Nine - Cause Player Lord VPN! We guarantee that your data and search history are secured! A percentage of all proceeds obtained from selling your data will be returned to you at the end of every month! Join now with code Glorius CCP and obtain three months completely free! --An ad for Lord VPN, 2051 *** I snuck up to the next corner, back bent and body low until I was right up to the intersection. The buildings here were mostly homes. The sort of pre-built bungalow with a little picket-fence yard that a lot of people probably dreamed of retiring in. It was just too bad that they were right on the edge of town. Well, maybe the owners had insurance. I didnt know much about home ownership. My ears did an alright job of painting a picture of what was going on around the corner, but that picture was... confusing. Someone was fighting with a trio of aliens. Model Threes, the little dog-like ones with the spiney backs and mouths that were too big for comfort. The Model Threes were rushing at a man who sounded large and who moved with sharp, sudden bursts of speed to bring a heavy bar around. The roar of a chainsaw didnt leave much to the imagination as to what, exactly, he was using as a weapon. I figured anyone murdering aliens in hand-to-hand was an ally. I came around the corner and raised Whisper to take a shot, but before I could really get to aiming my new chainsaw buddy spun around, threw the corpse of one alien at another, then stabbed his saw into the thirds head. Bits of antithesis splattered onto the ground, turned into so much chunky puree by the roaring blade. The samurai was a tall dude, covered in plates of army-green armour that looked scuffed, and that left his biceps exposed. He worked out. Or maybe he cheated with the tech, but either way, the results were the same. His arms were as thick around as my head and looked like they were straining against his armour. The way his armour segmented over his chest gave the impression that he had abs too. If I wasnt gay, Id think he looked pretty hot. Yo! I called out. The dude glanced my way, then completely ignored me as he walked over to the two alien bodies squirming a few meters away. One of them was still alive. He dropped his chainsaw, and the weapon faded into motes before hitting the ground. A projection? Or maybe some sort of nano bullshittery? It was definitely some alien gear. Reaching over his back, he closed his hand over empty air then pulled a shotgun from nowhere. I wasnt well-versed in guns, but even I recognized a double-barrel. His was cartoonishly large. He pumped it--why hadnt he materialized it already loaded?--lowered the barrel to point it at the head of the last living Model Three, then fired. Stray Cat, right? he asked. Oh right, yeah, thats me. Just call me Cat. You looked me up? I saw the memes. I paused, working over the implications of that. Memes? Plural? No, I didnt want to know. Okay then. So youre going to stay here? Around here? Im patrolling to keep the area safe. Give people time to leave. I marked a few places where there were more people, and I sighted a Model Nine but it left before I could catch up to it. Theyre fast little things. Dont think Ive ever seen a Model Nine, I said. Thats probably normal, theyre stealth models, Cause Player said. They look like long insects. They going to be a problem? I asked. Probably, he said. But Im more worried about the other models. Not too many of them coming around, but there are enough that Id rather stay on top of them. Right, I said. I eyed the street, then the woods beyond. They looked rather ominous, what with their trees and... plants and stuff. I was definitely not a country girl. Crap, Im not sure what to do from here. Cause Player shrugged. There are some civilians around. You could help them. Im more of a solo-player. And having someone else on my livestream might wreck the viewers immersion. So... yeah. If you want to help, maybe find the Model Nines mini-hives? Mini-hives? I asked. That sounds like a nightmare. They are, he said. Ask your AI. I need to get back to the show. I rubbed at the back of my neck. Right, fine. If he wanted to play actor for his crowd, that was on him. As long as he was still killing aliens I figured it wasnt any problem of mine. Dude needed to make a living too. Myalis, Model Nines, they going to be a problem? All antithesis models are problems on some level. Model Nines are, interestingly, the model that tends to irritate more veteran Vanguard the most. They are particularly adept at avoiding detection, and often require a boots on the ground approach to be discovered and eliminated. Hmm, I said before turning back towards Cause Player. Im going to head back to the headquarters then, maybe try to herd some civilians back that way too. If you need anything, you call me or Gomorrah, alright? Shes got a cool ride, and can probably be here in a matter of seconds. Thank you, he said. He actually sounded sincere there. I should be able to hold my own for a while. This isnt the best point farm, but its not all bad. Yeah, cool, I said. I saluted him, then stepped back. I really needed a better invisibility system so that I could just disappear entirely. It would make for a cool exit. Think you could point me towards the biggest group of locals that arent safe? I can do that. Ill try to verify if I can see any Model Nines moving into town. They tend to be difficult to find via artificial means. How come? I asked. Their skin and fur can change colours and textures, similar to the Earth-native chameleon, though they are significantly better at it. They can also change shapes thanks to the way their prehensile fur is made. They are cold blooded, so infra-red has difficulty seeing them, and they can release small spores from their down-fur that float in the air and will frequently give sensors false-positives. Sounded like fun. Lets see if we cant catch us a couple of them, then! *** Chapter Sixty - M9 Chapter Sixty - M9 Chapter Sixty - M9 The traditional family unit may have been displaced as time progressed, but it never truly disappeared. A system by which a child had multiple guardians and siblings is still, in nearly every scenario, optimal. A child needs constant attention, and constant love to grow into a strong and capable adult. Sometimes, that requires more time than their parents can give them. This isnt because of a lack of love. That missing time is spent working hard to put a roof over your childs head and keeping them safe and fed. Perhaps all you need is some thing to help with the more mundane tasks of raising a child? --Nannyco Robotics ad, 2047 *** I glanced at my map of Black Bear really quick as I jogged along. Myalis had marked a few spots to check around town, mostly places where shed seen civilians gathering. I wanted to get them moving to safety, but I was also on the look-out for nearly-invisible ambush aliens. Which I figured wasnt going to end with me finding any of them. Where to next? I asked as I shot past an intersection. There wasnt any traffic, so I only gave a quick glance each way before crossing the road. It was a good thing too, it let me see some movement down the street a little ways. Scratch that. There was a small family milling around a van. An ugly old thing from the late 2030s. All curved and filled with unnecessary plastic body parts, and very much unable to hover. In a small town like this though, that was probably fine. There was a ramp extending out of the side of the vehicle, and what looked like an entire family was gathered around it. It looked like some picture-perfect bunch. The mom, dad, and a boy and girl who were in their younger teens. It would have been picture perfect if the dad-looking guy wasnt in a wheelchair, his kids fussing with him, while the mother ran around in a panic. Yo, I said as I approached. No one noticed me. That didnt bode well. What if I was an alien? Then again, I was supposed to be stealthy, so I chalked it up to me just being that good before I scream. Yo! The kids and the dad jumped and spun around, looking for me. Then they started yammering as I walked closer. I flicked off my coats invisibility just as the dad finagled a rifle from inside the van. He paused in the act of fiddling with the safety and looked my way. Youre not an alien. Im one-hundred percent mostly human, I said. Whats going on here? Oh, shit, shes a samurai, the girl said. She couldnt be older than thirteen or so, about the age of my kittens. Sweetie, dont swear, the mother said. I dont know what she was talking about, the woman looked like she desperately needed a chill pill and maybe a margarita. Its alright? I asked. You folks okay? Who are you? The dad asked. I didnt actually know if they were a family, but if they werent the resemblance was uncanny, and absent any actual names, thats what I was going to label them as. Im Stray Cat. Your kids right, Im a samurai. Just looking for stragglers. You folk should head over to the company headquarters, we have a samurai guarding the place already. Oh, wow, the son said. His sister looked like Id just announced that Christmas was coming early. She whipped an old-school phone out, then frowned at its blank screen before stuffing it away. I didnt even hear the crash. Or maybe I had and had simply ignored it. I was used to a citys worth of noise. A distant bang barely registered. I had to pay more attention. I might not have fought any aliens yet, but that didnt mean they werent around. Jogging over to the van, I expected to see the family moving about, maybe a bit disorientated. I had plenty of points to get some medical stuff if it came to that. Instead, halfway down the street, I noticed the blood splashed across the inside of the windows. Wait. I stopped, then started to look around. If Myalis told me to wait, there was a damned good reason for it, she wasnt the sort to stop me from racing over to help someone. My gaze travelled across the street, looking for something, the black of an antithesis, maybe some monster lurking in the shadows. I found plain homes, some with manicured lawns with little bushes, others looking a bit rougher around the edges. There wasnt much space between the homes, but they each had a little lot. Cars sat useless in driveways and some of the homes had lights on. Stealth units. My back-mounted guns unfolded, both of them coming to rest just over my shoulders. They scanned across the street. I want to check in on them, I said. Go ahead. I am trying to see the Model Nine. Myalis not being able to see the monster wasnt filling me with confidence. I walked over to the van, eyes shifting around, searching for anything. The wind shifted, blowing across the leaves of one of the few trees around, and the grass, and the bushes which twisted around. My heart skipped a beat. Spinning around, I raised Whisper. It was far too slow. The bush launched itself at me, entirely silent. My plasma caster spat a torrent of burning pellets at the creature, but it couldnt track fast enough. A claw crashed into my crossbow, then two more smacked into a pair of hexagonal disks that flashed into existence before me. Those would have eviscerated me. I stumbled back, dropping my crossbow and finally taking in the Model Nine as it regained its footing. It looked... like a bush. Leaves and branches. But not really. The leaves were fur, too puffy and made of thin woven strands. The branches were more like additional limbs sticking out of a thin, muscular body. I couldnt see its eyes, but I could make out the black claws at the ends of its many limbs. None more than a couple of centimeters long, some of them bloody. I whipped out my Trench Maker just as the Model Nine jumped again. Three barks sounded out as I fired into the Model Nine from point blank range. The alien crashed to the ground. What... what the hell, I swore. *** Chapter Sixty-One - Mimics Chapter Sixty-One - Mimics Chapter Sixty-One - Mimics You shouldnt believe just anyones claims that theyre a samurai. It is surprisingly easy to fake it. One notable story is that of Snapdragon, the alias of a young man who obtained some basic body armour and some cosplaying supplies, then created a samurai persona for himself. This isnt entirely uncommon, and there are events and groups that play at being samurai. Snapdragon took it one step further by patrolling the streets and even participating in the periphery of some incursions. He was discovered to be faking it when a group of Antithesis overran the position he was guarding and he was unable to procure more weapons or ammunition as samurai so often do. Seventy-eight civilians died. Be wary of false claimants, and dont be afraid to ask for proof. Most samurai will provide some evidence of authenticity if asked. --Extract from A Concerned Citizen series of pamphlets distributed in 2035 *** Targets Eliminated! Reward... 25 Points I panted for a bit, heart beating away in my chest as if Id just spent twenty quality minutes with Lucy instead of just lightly jogging around. A ten-second fight with an alien did that, I supposed. Shit, I said for a lack of any better response. I walked to the side a bit, then moved back towards the dead alien. The Model Nine looked like someone had dropped a potted plant on the street. Shit, I repeated. Youre distressed. More so that Id expect from you after an ambush. I shook my head. Im fine, I said. Just... it spooked me is all. I glanced at the real reason I wasnt feeling all that great. The minivan was just a few dozen meters away. The water pouring from the busted hydrant was slowing down, and over that I could just make out the cars engine still rumbling away. Shit. Third time now. I bent over and scooped Whisper up as I started towards the van. A quick look over the crossbow didnt reveal anything obviously wrong with it. Maybe a nick in the paint? Nothing terrible. I set the crossbow against my shoulder and started moving closer to the minivan, looking around for more trouble. Any bushes that gave me a weird look were going to get shot. The vans doors were all closed, but the passenger side window was broken. I held my breath then looked in. Four bodies. Nothing in the immediate area. I nodded and lowered Icarus. Didnt need to spook anyone into shooting me. Hey. You guys heading to the headquarters? The civilians looked to each other. Who are you? the one in the lead asked again. Friendly... friendly-ish neighbourhood samurai, I said. Sorry about the explosion, that mailbox was an alien. They didnt believe it. Id lied poorly before. It was one of those things you had to get good at as a poor crippled orphan kid, and to get better at lying, you had to know when someone didnt buy it. Which was kind of insulting. I was partially invisible and had a big gun. Did they need me to hack into their augs to announce myself too? Obviously it was the mailbox thing that stretched their believability. I flicked off the invisibility on my coat again and tucked my launcher away. Didnt need to give anyone a reason to twitch. Im Stray Cat. Based out of New Montreal. Im here with a few others, were securing the civilians around here. Guns lowered some more. Was there really a xeno behind the mailbox? the guy I assumed as in charge asked. Yeah, I said. Close enough. Where are you guys headed? The old arena. A bunch of us are heading that way. Its our meeting place for when things go wrong. He rubbed the back of his hand across his nose. Can you tell us how things are going? In Black Bear? Alright? Some casualties, but not that many. I held myself together fairly well, I figured. The incursion near heres really small. Well have some heavy hitters around soon, but we dont want normal folk out and about when that happens. We cant go to the headquarters. Most of us are sub-contractors. I... dont see why that should matter? I said. The company doesnt like us interfering with their things, he explained. We live here, but half the towns basically off-limits to us. Some of the folk behind him nodded, and I started to notice that they werent all dressed to the nines. It was the middle of the day, sure, and I didnt expect people dressed to impress, but these people were all in jeans and... well, normal clothes that had been worn before. Not poor, but not far from it, maybe? Look, the company doesnt like you interfering, but theyd really hate it if I did. Theres another samurai by the headquarters guarding it, Gomorrah. Shes the nun with the flamethrower. Shes very good at turning the unrighteous into charcoal, and she wouldnt leave a bunch of people waiting outside for the aliens to nab them. If the company gives you trouble later, you just reach out to me, alright? That seemed to work. I figured Id press my momentum while I had it and I took off ahead of them, heading towards the headquarters. It was only a couple of blocks away. Myalis, can you get one of my cats to come over? It can escort them the rest of the way once it gets here. Also, wheres the old arena? Your P.U.S.S. Model Y is on route. As for the old arena, its not on any of the official maps, but I suspect its this building here. A building flashed on my map. Some older social media feeds call it the town arena. It predates the corporate acquisition of the town, and doesnt seem to have been in use since. Well then, I guess we know more or less where were heading to next, I said. Chapter Sixty-Two - Arena Chapter Sixty-Two - Arena Chapter Sixty-Two - Arena The best thing you can do when there are aliens about is keep low, and keep your head on straight. Its the best way to stay alive. --Deus Ex, 2054 *** As soon as one of my cat mechs joined the civilians, I ditched. Felt a little bad just leaving them behind, but they had a walking weapons platform watching over them now, and they were only a block away from the headquarters. A glance at the map to make sure I was heading in the right direction, and I continued on towards the arena. From what Myalis was able to pull up in a hurry, the old arena looked fairly secure. It was a pre-incursion building, but like, way before the incursions started. It had a cold-war era fallout shelter in the basement. Nothing up to modern code, I bet, but sometimes that wasnt a bad thing. No cameras on or around the building, which was annoying, but Myalis said that she could triangulate a lot of phone signals in the area that hadn''t been there a few hours before. People really were gathering there. Id be using that phone tracking trick again. There were still a few pockets of people around Black Bear. If we did our job right, theyd be safe if they had somewhere to lay low for a while, I figured. Still didnt want to risk it too much. Having everyone in one place made it easier to defend them all. Plus, more guns manning the figurative walls. It would suck if one of them had a cold and spread it around, but Id take that over aliens eating everyone any day of the week. I was just past the back of the headquarters when my augs told me I had an incoming call. Gomorrah. Yo, I said. Hey, she replied. I reached out to Deus Ex, to get some news about that orbital strike. I think she was sleeping, but her AI wasnt. It directed me to speak with someone from the Family. Alright, I said. Made sense so far. Pipsqueak needed her naptime. Long and short of it is that theyll be bombing the area in about five minutes. Five minutes! I shouted. That was real fucking soon. I glanced at the sky but all I saw was a thick layer of grey, but that didnt mean they had to bomb the place now. The Vanguard I spoke to said the area of effect would only barely touch Black Bear. Though... Cat, I didnt have all that much confidence in the man from my one conversation with him. He sounded a bit stupid. I paused. Was it wise to head out to the arena now? The headquarters looked a lot tougher and was closer to the centre of the city to boot. More buildings around it to serve as cover. But that would mean abandoning however many people were at the arena. Fuck. Look, Im going to join up with some folk, then try to get them all into cover. What are you doing?NewW novels updates at novelhall.com I started to run ahead. Still looking around for Model Nines, but prioritizing getting my ass out of the blast radius more. Im landing Fury now. I want it safe from the blast. Ill be in the headquarters. Ill see what needs doing after that. Right, did he tell you anything about what kind of bombardment well be dealing with here? Deus Ex said orbital, but that just means the bombs are coming from on high. I got that theyd spread around and eventually butt up against humanity, and I was fine with murdering them to the last. I just didnt get why they acted the way they did. Coming after a town like this when there was plenty to be had around it with less risk. Maybe I was overthinking it. Aliens had alien ways of thinking, big surprise. I licked my lips as I pushed into the next room over. It was a small space, a corridor with windows lining one side, looking into a hockey rink. No ice. Too warm for that, and the stands looked a bit dusty. No aliens that I could see. The corridor moved off a ways, and there were a few steps leading down at the end. I followed the noises, moving slowly, keeping quiet. Someone shot at something. First one shot, then two or three more. Shit, I muttered before sprinting ahead. I bounced off the wall around the corner and found myself in another passageway. Locker rooms to one side, storage on the other, and a shit barricade at the end. Three Model Threes, running down the centre of the corridor. Another jumped out of one of the rooms to the side. I cursed and ran forward. The plasma rifle on my shoulder opened fire, filling the air between us with flashing darts that pelted into the aliens backs and sides, burning pinky-wide holes into the aliens. I didnt bother firing at them with my Trench Maker. Id just miss. The aliens went down, and I slid to a stop before the door theyd been coming out of. I came face to face with a Model Three climbing in through a broken window. It stared at me for just a moment before baring its teeth. My railgun painted a line in the air, dust kicked aside in a tunnel that passed through the aliens skull. Sound bomb, I said. Myalis provided a resonator dropping before me so that I could catch it out of the air. I turned it on with a flick of my thumb and stepped into the room. An office. Dust to one side, old drawers to the other, ancient cathode-ray screen rotting in the corner. I underhanded the grenade outside and ran back into the corridor. At least I was finally getting some action, I reasoned as I ran to the end. Now I just had to try and keep folks alive too. *** Chapter Sixty-Three - Rod of God Chapter Sixty-Three - Rod of God Chapter Sixty-Three - Rod of God Theres no kill like overkill! --Motto of the Familys unofficial Orbital Strike Squadron *** I spun around the corridor and took in everything. It only took a split second to figure out what was going on. There was a room at the far end of the corridor. Unadorned walls, thick, made of cement. The shelter. Before that were some doors, heavy metal things. Not vault doors, but the sort Id expect to see in a well-secured warehouse or at the front of someone paranoids place. Theyd built a barricade in the middle of the corridor, but the people manning it werent there. For good reason too. Three Model Threes, a single Model Four. The latter looked injured, some of its tentacles shorn off, and it looked to be bleeding. I raised my Trench Maker up, pointing it at the back of the nearest alien, the big Model Four. My railgun shifted, and my plasma caster turned to aim farther forward. My finger twitched over the trigger just as my railgun bucked. A spray of superheated plasma shot out ahead with a snake-like hiss. The four aliens went down in an instant. The one hit by the rail thumping to the ground, a coin-sized hole smoking in its flank and the front of its chest bust apart, the Model Four slumped to the ground, the holes Id poked into it with my Trench Maker the size of both my fists together, and the other two were partially aflame around the places where my plasma gun had peppered them with fire. Targets Eliminated! Reward... 85 Points I stuffed my Trench Maker into its holster and let that get to work reloading it while I stepped around the bodies slumped across the corridor. The guys running away kept running, but they were looking back, and soon their run turned from a desperate scramble to a confused jog. They stopped. Are you a samurai? One of them asked. Yup, I said. You guys okay? There were some shared looks. We thought, one began. Were okay, another said, louder. He moved towards me, a gun in hand, but not pointed anywhere near me, and by the looks of it, the magazine was missing from it. It was only a hunting rifle though, all wood with a scope. These guys were armed, but not with anything fancy. I glanced around, taking in six or so more dead Antithesis. Theyd been holding them off, then. Did you see Bill? the one walking over asked. And Gatan and John? Whos Bill? I asked. He-- they were guarding the front door. Please, hes my son. The guy looked old enough to be a dad. Maybe in his late fifties or so. I... fuck, there were two people by the doors, dead, sorry. He reeled back, confusion and anger, then hope. Just two? I felt tiny particles pelt against my back, against my helmet and legs. None hard enough to hurt, or at least not hard enough to break through my armour. What the hell had that been? I rolled into a ball, the wind whipping past pushing me forwards. I think I ended up under the car with the guy in it. That didnt provide much cover, but it was somewhere to hide. Then the earth shook again. Another strike? Had they launched them sequentially? That minute was not nearly enough warning! I was going to find that Zeus asshole and tear him a new one. Are you well? Fuck! I screamed. I will take that as a no. Your undersuits integrity is still at 100%. Your vitals are fine considering the situation. You will survive, just hold tight and wait. Its just a little orbital strike. Myalis was being comforting and sarcastic, which actually helped a little. I didnt believe in those breathing exercises they taught at the orphanage much, but it didnt hurt to try one now. The rumbling continued, and my ears unmuted themselves, allowing me to take in the torrential roar of wind around me. There were other sounds mixed in. Things crumbling, a dozen car alarms going off. I was on the edge of Black Bear nearest the blast. That meant we were just about the hardest hit. Still, I could only imagine the town being a crater after this. The wind settled. It shifted back, rushing in the opposite direction, though with only a fraction of the force. Its over. I rolled over, then started to crawl out from under the car. I wasnt even sure how Id fit in so easily, it was a tough squeeze to get out. Standing up, I looked around, but couldnt see anything, that was, until I wiped at my helmet and cleared it of the dust and dirt caked on. The wind was settling down, and with it the crap in the air. The clouds, I noticed, were nearly all gone. They had to be, to make way for the multiple mushrooms dominating the sky right next to me. They were bigger than any skyscraper Id ever seen, massive bulbous things, dark grey and growing. Shit, I said. I paused and looked around. I expected cars to be flipped and all, but it wasnt quite that bad. A clod of dirt the size of my fist thumped to the ground a dozen meters away. Maybe it wasnt that bad, but it wasnt far from it. I... didnt quite know what to do. That man still needs assistance. Right, I said. That first. Then I could check on the civilians in the shelter. After that Id figure out my next move. I had to contact Gomorrah and maybe Cause Player. I had the impression that whatever that had been created more work for me, not less. *** Chapter Sixty-Four - Aftermath, but we’re Really Bad at Math Chapter Sixty-Four - Aftermath, but we¡¯re Really Bad at Math Chapter Sixty-Four - Aftermath, but were Really Bad at Math When the first incursions occurred, humanity as a whole didnt know how to respond to them. They were a threat unlike any other. And so, naturally, no holds were barred when it came to unleashing humanitys collective arsenal on the aliens. Often, that meant that the worst of the disaster wasnt created by the aliens, but by humanity itself. --Excerpt from A History of Disaster, 2047 *** Okay, press here, I said, gesturing at a point on the dudes leg. He hissed as he put pressure on his wound, but it helped, keeping one of my hands free so that I could tug his leg up and wrap the bandage around it again. I had plenty of first aid stuff, but they were a bit pricey. Good bandages though? With some sort of magic bullshit fast-healing stuff in them? Yeah, one point for a roll that had an adhesive strip on the ends and that would contract and breathe as needed. There, I said as I pressed the strip into the bandage. The edges flashed green and the entire bit of cloth tightened a little. Id kiss it better, but youre not my type. Thanks, he said. I shifted back out of the car, ignoring all the glass crunching below me as I backed out, then I gave him a hand to get out himself. He still hung onto his gun, which was great. It might come in handy. Lets get you inside, I said as I looked around. None of the cars around us had windows, and they were all turned an ugly grey-ish brown by the blast of dirt and ash. Speaking of ash, there was a faint rain coming down from above. Too grey to be snow. What happened? he asked. "Some fuckwit didnt learn their lesson about blast radiuses, I think, I said. Just hope this shits not radioactive. It is not. The HVW that struck nearby was an iridium rod. It is non-radioactive. Oh, so its not fallout? I asked. Its fallout from the explosion, but it is not radioactive fallout. No more than any amount of soil kicked up would have, at least. Thats good, right? the guy asked. Sure, I said. Lets get you inside, you can have a sit with your family. The arena was fucked. The lobby was fine. A bit dusty, and some of the posters had been ripped off the walls, but nothing a janitor couldnt fix. The rest of it though? The tin roof had been peeled back like a sardine can, exposing the hockey rink and letting in plenty of dust and crap. Dust had made it all the way into the corridors leading to the shelter. The doors were shut when we arrived. Couldnt blame them, Id have closed them on sensing the blast too. I didnt have time to protest that my augs shifted and suddenly I was looking at the face of a smiling man in a business suit. Hello Gomorrah... and Stray Cat? Pleased to meet you. How are things on the ground? Gomorrah, whos this fucko? I asked, politely. Gomorrah snorted and the guys face went through a few emotions. This is the one in charge of the orbital weapons. No, hes not a Vanguard. Im Lorenz, Lorenz said. Thats nice. Why the fuck did you hit so close to the town? Uh, thats where the hive is? he said. I actually stopped firing early. We were supposed to hit twelve times, then six more times in the centre, right over the main body of the hive, but theres some tectonic instability in the region from the first hits. Well need to wait for that to clear out first. Another wave of hits? I asked. The place is barely keeping together as it is. Lorenz seemed to disagree. We need to eradicate as much of the hive as we can now, before we send you in to weed out the rest. Im sorry, what? I asked. The Black Bear Mining Corporation has been using new technology to find mineral deposits, he said. Instead of strip mining, theyve been using tunnels to reach those deposits directly. I squeezed my eyes shut. Lorenz, what the fuck are you on about? Ill admit, Im curious too. This seems like an unnecessary tangent. Were trying to save lives here, we dont care about mining. Sorry, sorry. Its just that we think the local Antithesis hive has relocated into the mining shafts around Black Bear. Some of the scans of the mines we have dont match up to the official records the company keeps. For that matter, theyve been extracting more ore than they should have. So the aliens are underground, I said. That is, if you didnt collapse them in. The shafts should still be there. The next wave of HVWs should be stronger, with bunker-buster munitions. It will be a bit harder than the last blast. HVW? Gomorrah was the one to reply. High Velocity Weapon. The kinetic strike rods they just used. Okay, I said. So you want us to go skipping around in some mineshaft, to kill some aliens, while folk around here are screwed over by your inability to aim? Lorenz looked a bit pale. Yes? ... Maam? Lorenz, where are you right now? I asked. Im not supposed to disclose that? His IP traces back to a Family-owned complex in Wyoming. Wyoming, huh? Lorenz, Ive decided that I dont like you. So if you want me to do anything that isnt driving over to... wherever the fuck Wyoming is, then youd better become real convincing real fast. Im not in a good mood. Chapter Sixty-Five - Politics According to Cat Chapter Sixty-Five - Politics According to Cat Chapter Sixty-Five - Politics According to Cat In 2022 a bill was brought up for consideration by members of the then-Republican and Democratic parties, in a bipartisan gesture. The bill would, in essence, restrict the ability of a samurai to participate in the open market. They would not be allowed to purchase or own stocks or shares in a company, they would not be allowed to own or operate their own business, and in theory, would need to be affiliated with a company in good-standing in order to file their taxes. In 2023 a samurai named Blitzo accidentally detonated a chemical laser weapon above Washington, D.C. The beams projected by this device, all of them with temperatures of several thousands of degrees, and no wider than a hair, were fired across the city at entirely random angles. Of the seventy-two casualties from this accident, seventy-two were politicians or lobbyists. By sheer, scientifically-proven coincidence, these were all lobbyists and politicians in favour of the bill. The bill did not pass. Blitzo was charged, tried and acquitted of all charges. His defence, that the bomb was set off accidentally by a faulty fuse, and that the lasers could have gone in literally any direction, was impossible to disprove, regardless of how unlikely the results happened to be. Judge Van Maners, who presided over Blitzos trial, was quoted as saying, Fuck all of that. --Excerpt from Samurai and Politics, a Simple Guide, 2039 *** Ah, Lorenz began with all the grace of a new manager meeting his first Karen. We... you see... um. Um? I repeated. Cat, Gomorrah said. There was a bit of a warning tone to it. I think what Lorenz was trying to say there was that hes very, very sorry that he almost blew you up, and that he will make sure that the Family takes full responsibility for the damages caused here. I dont know if I can... I mean, yes. Yes, thats what I meant, Lorenz said in a hurry. I snorted, but... yeah, I was basically bullying the idiot at this point. An idiot with an orbital gun, but an idiot still. How many people are working with you, Lorenz? Were a team of forty, he said. For the NA-near-orbit zone. So, he wasnt some guy in a basement pressing on big red buttons for fun. The background in his image kind of hinted at him being somewhere important. Lots of books and little photos on a shelf behind him, as well as awards and some knick-knacks. Office shit, basically. And whos... Zeus? Thats the samurai that set up the orbital drop system, Lorenz said. Hes a member of the Family. Right, I said. So Zeus wasnt the one pulling the trigger? Tell him that he needs to give his toys to more responsible people. I... will pass that along? I wanted to rub at my forehead. Instead, I settled for starting to walk in circles around the arena parking lot. How long until the army comes in? Theyre waiting for the debris to clear. They should be there in under half an hour. Though, Im not the one in charge of that side of things. Then who is? Gomorrah asked. Lorenz swallowed. That would be the NA Coordination group? How big is the Family? I asked. Lorenz blinked. Its the biggest samurai-affiliated and run organization in North America? Tight quarters, small sight-lines, flammable enemies. This is literally the perfect situation for my loadout, Gomorrah said. Might not get another like this for a while. I could use the points. I felt my good eyebrow raise. Going to get a second car? Im a one-car kind of woman, Gomorrah said. As God intended. No, I want some more defences around the church. I had some people snooping around already. Im not fond of that. You could buy one of the floors below my new place. Turn it into a... church thing, or whatever. Hell, you can slap a steeple on the roof. Lucy would hate it at first, but I think its phallic nature would win her over eventually. Plus shed get to see nuns. And tease them. You have such a one-track mind, Gomorrah complained. Sorry, when I get fidgety, I explained. Anyway, where you go I go, I guess. Lorenz sighed. Thats great to hear. Id honestly forgotten he was even there. Were waiting until the army shows up, I said. Not going to leave all these people out here without anyone to defend them. Theres a whole battalion coming in, Gomorrah said. Sounds like theyre taking this seriously. No PMCs, weird. My interactions with the government so far had been... sparse and traumatic. I hoped that the governments army wouldnt be similar. Good, I guess. Once they get here, Ill head over to you. We can figure things out from there. Thank you, both of you. The Family will certainly appreciate your assistance in this matter, Lorenz said. Kissing my ass wont un-blow-up me, I said. Gomorrah actually giggled for a half-second before cutting off with a cough. Yes, well, see you soon. See you soon, I said. And Lorenz, do call a girl before exploding her or things in her vicinity. Its just polite. R-right, Lorenz mumbled. The line went dead and I let out a long breath before stretching my back. An interesting conversation, and a great opportunity. To die in a hole, you mean. I would encourage you to save some points to use in case of that sort of emergency. Or, alternatively, spend them on something that would save you in case of a cave in. Like what, a teleportation machine? I asked. Yes. There are many ways of moving things from one point to another without crossing the space between the two points. I blinked. You can teleport stuff? The silence was very, very long. Catherine... how do you explain the items you purchase arriving before you? Oh, right. Obviously. I spent the long minutes waiting for the army to arrive feeling particularly stupid. Chapter Sixty-Six - Tanks and Soldiers and Guns, Oh My! Chapter Sixty-Six - Tanks and Soldiers and Guns, Oh My! Chapter Sixty-Six - Tanks and Soldiers and Guns, Oh My! Most modern militaries in the early 2000s were designed to counter other modern militaries and minor uprisings. The Antithesis changed that. Now most forces split their attention between crowd suppression, their traditional anti-military role, and incursion suppression. --Introduction to the Three Way Problem by Professor Ivence, 2054 *** I dont know why, but when I imagined the army showing up, I was expecting a couple of troop transports. Maybe a few armoured cars. I wasnt expecting tanks. My knowledge about tanks wasnt exactly great. Id seen them in movies and games, and maybe in a history documentary or two. I knew they were big armoured things. For some reason, it never registered that theyd be fucking enourmous. The tank that rolled onto the road with the arena was nearly wide enough to take up the entire street. It had smaller gun emplacements all around it, turrets with armoured screens under them, and a main gun sitting on the back with a barrel I could have stuck my head in. Wheels instead of tracks, though. Big ones, with hexagonal-patterned tires, four to a side. The tank turned my way, casually rolled over the hood of some poor civilians little sedan, then made a tight turn a couple of metres ahead of me and stopped with a hiss. I stared up as a hatch hummed open. The inch-thick doorway was shoved up by a little hydraulic arm, just enough that a guy was able to poke his head out. Are you Stray Cat, maam? he asked. Yup, I said. Nice ride. The soldier grinned. Thank you, maam! Were the only super-heavy here. Thought it would be best to have us break the tide, as it were. Super heavy? I asked. He reached an arm out and gave the vehicle an affectionate thump. One hundred and fifty tonnes of alien killing beauty. Nice, I said. I think I saw the appeal. I wasnt a gun nut, but that cannon on the top. Well, bitches did love cannons. You guys going to stick around here? Yes, maam! I heard something off to the side, and leaned back to see a few more vehicles coming over. Tanks, but these were no bigger than an SUV. Fewer wheels, and the asymmetrically-set gun wasnt as panty-wettingly big. Cool. Youre really freeing me up here, I said. There are some civilians holed up in the arena. Saw some Model Threes and Fours around earlier. And watch out for Model Nines. Theyre nasty fuckers. The tanker saluted. Will do, maam. Do you need a ride anywhere? We have infantry being dropped off here. I shrugged. Sure, I said. I wouldnt mind riding on a tank. As it turned out, what he meant was that when a troop transport came around--just a sort of enclosed truck, lightly armoured and unarmed--to drop off a couple of squads of infantry, it waited around for me to hop on. I didnt complain. It saved me some walking, but I did kind of want to ride in one of the tanks. Lucy would trip. You need to call him. Ive been talking to everyone today. And dont forget your cats. I had forgotten about those. With what looked like a few hundred soldiers around, they were probably not as useful to have around. Myalis, can you recall those? Would they fit in the trunk? The trunks not too big, Gomorrah said. But you can try. My mecha cats trotted over, some of them surprising the soldiers as they sauntered by. As it turned out, you could fit them in the trunk, but it was a near-thing. They had to fold themselves up all neat and tight, and I had to shove them in a bit. I slumped onto the passenger-side seat and started looking through my contacts while Gomorrah gently took off and started to hover over Black Bear. My augs rang, and soon enough, Cause Player picked up. Hello? he asked. Hey, I said. Youre alive? Yeah. That blast nearly knocked me off my feet. Nearly destroyed my camera too, but I still got a good angle on everything. Itll make for a great VOD. Uh, yeah. That sounds cool. No injuries? I have good armour, he said. Are you okay? I allowed myself to grimace. No one could see it. Im fine. The hives not entirely gone. Its currently settled into this mineshaft. Gomorrah and I are heading over there now. Can I come? Tight quarters like that make for a great show. I considered it for a bit. Sure. Well take the side leading deeper into the hive, you take the other side. Thats fewer aliens for me, he said. There are two of us, I said. If the tunnels split again, well be able to handle it better. Plus we have mechas with us. Im a stealth and bomb specialist, Gomorrah has all the flame-throwers. I guess. At least Ill be around if you two need help, or vice versa. Let me put my stream on pause. You dont want them seeing us? I asked. Do you want to be seen? he asked. One sec, I said. Gomorrah, two things. Cause Player wants to come with. Well be splitting up at each entrance. I think we could drop him off at the main entrance and take the other ourselves. And do you mind being on-camera? This dudes got like, a Twinge livestream going on. I dont mind people seeing me, or Fury, for that matter. Neat, I said. I opened a text box and started to send a text to Lucy. Shed want to follow Cause Players stream, knowing her. Cause Player? Were good. Well swing around to pick you up in a couple of seconds, er-- as soon as we know where you are. Cool. Do you have a map of the hive? Ah... yeah, but its shit. Let me get one from the mining corp, they must have a map of their own damned mine. We really werent going into this as prepared as we should have been. But I figured wed be fine. Overwhelming firepower corrected a lot of wrongs. *** Chapter Sixty-Seven - Exploring New Holes with Your Favorite Nun Chapter Sixty-Seven - Exploring New Holes with Your Favorite Nun Chapter Sixty-Seven - Exploring New Holes with Your Favorite Nun Okay, so you know how slave labour is all sorts of illegal, right? Obviously. Right, so get this. Someone volunteering... isnt. An employee giving you time willingly, without asking for pay? Yeah, thats fine. Whos going to work for free? No, no, see, thats the best part. You take note of who did volunteer work, make it public, and when promotions roll around, you tell those who volunteered a lot and who happen to get promoted that its partially because they volunteered. So to get promoted you need to volunteer? What? No, thatll just get idiots with too much time up the ladder. Nah, but when someone who did volunteer gets promoted, you make a big show of it. Im telling you, about one fifth of our employee work hours last year were entirely volunteer work. You can even use it as a tax write-off! --Overheard conversation at the AE New Montreal Head Office *** Cause Player didnt complain about how cramped the rear seats of the Fury were. That was great. He did complain about just about everything else though. Slow down! Im hardly going fast, Gomorrah said. Its relative! he said as trees whipped by on either side. Were barely going one hundred, Gomorrah complained. Thats really fast when youre only feet off the ground! I snorted. Who uses feet? For measuring shit, I mean. Id use liters for that, Gomorrah whispered. It took me a second, but when I caught on I cackled. The road! The road! Cause Player shouted. Gomorrah looked ahead, twitched us out of the path of a tree, then turned to stare at Cause Player. I didnt learn to drive yesterday, you know? Wait, I vaguely recall you telling me you didnt know how to drive? That was three days ago. I looked out ahead, at all the trees whipping by. Um, now Im a little concerned too, I admitted. Cause Player said something that was probably rude, but Gomorrah chose that moment to yank us up, spin Fury around, then come to a very quick hover on a flat patch of ground. The forest was cleared for a ways, leaving plenty of room for the huge machines that were parked around the mine entrance, which was wider than most of the houses in Black Bear and twice as tall. The Fury slid to a stop and hovered a metre off the ground, front facing the mine entrance. The entrance, and about a dozen Antithesis. Huh, Gomorrah said. She flicked something, and a large gun unfolded from the cars hood. The Furys soundproofing proved its worth. I didnt even hear the machine gun going off. Soon, the few Model Threes and Fours lingering around were turned into so much pulp that they were hard to tell apart from a pile of roadside slush. Oops, I deadpanned. Gomorrah brought us down and set the Fury to hover. Stepping out was a bit tricky, with the ground being so uneven, but we managed. I stared into the crevice, the whole thing feeling a lot larger, and a lot darker now that we stood right on the edge of it. Alright, lets unload the mecha cats. Should we leave one with the Fury? To guard it? No, Ill remote it up a few hundred metres. Itll target any flying Antithesis around, and it can serve as a beacon for us. Theres not much normal reception around here. I glanced to the skies. Dark. Dark and brownish. There were some fires here and there too, little white plumes reaching out to the clouds. Cat? I snapped out of it and rushed to the back of the Fury to help unload the mecha cats stored within. Going to be tricky to get these three to the bottom, I said. Theyre not so heavy, Gomorrah said. Whos going down first? Oh, and let me get you that thing. Ah yes, the thing, I said. As it turned out, the thing was a small pack with clamps. It was mildly complicated to put on, and had a bunch of boxes around it. Gomorrah explained that they would deploy a sort of airbag around me if shit went horribly wrong. It was more than just an airbag, but I got the gist of it. Myalis, can I spare enough points for, like, a stealth poncho? With a hood? I asked. A stealth poncho? Like, a thing thatll cover me more than just my jacket. I have my legs and head still visible. I think I understand what youre looking for. Perhaps a cloak? A cloak of invisibility? That sounds kind of awesome. Always wanted one of those. For peeping in bathrooms? Gomorrah asked as she helped me grab the last mecha cat. Showers, actually, I said. You only want something simple? Its all I can afford, I said. You know its still weird to only hear one side of that conversation, Gomorrah said. I shrugged. New Purchase: Cloak of Inpurrceptability Points Reduced to... 35 I picked up the box the cloak came in and opened it to find a long cape-like thing, with a deep hood that of course had cat ears sewn on. Kinda cute though. I slid it on over everything else I had. Fortunately it was pretty light, because I was covered in a whole load of gear already. Do you think we should get like, exoskeleton suits, or power armour? I asked. Isnt that the end-goal? Gomorrah asked. Honestly, I think it depends on what youre going for. Gomorrah and I set up my old grapple system, the drill-heads digging into some of the larger stones as if they were so much butter. And then it was time to head down into the pit. Ill go first, I said. Not even a debate? I grinned, then walked off the edge. Nope! *** Chapter Sixty-Eight - Darkness Chapter Sixty-Eight - Darkness Chapter Sixty-Eight - Darkness Samurai Hunters Twelve! Build your own samurai team and hunt Antithesis in the best MOBA of the decade! Now with 178 new DLC characters! --Nimbletainment ad, 2039 *** The darkness was... strange. No, alright, it was normal darkness. Just a lack of light from above. The thing is, I could still see perfectly well. My cybernetic cat eye was pretty good about low-light, and it was messing with my head that my meat eye wasnt. Strangely enough, the ears helped me see more. I hadnt noticed how accustomed Id gotten to my new ears, I guess. They were supposed to have some sort of sonar to them, and I had noticed that I could see a sort of mental image of things that were around a corner, but it was all very subtle. A sort of impression that faded into the background when I wasnt paying attention. Something about the system had to be there to prevent it all from disorientating me. Now, in the deepening darkness of the mines, that system came into play again. Or it would be more accurate to say that I noticed it more. I couldnt see into the deeper darkness, but I could sense what was there anyway. Freaky. Kinda cool though. My grapple system lowered me down metre by metre until finally my foot touched the ground. Id left Whisper in the Fury, figuring that a long-ranged, low-rate-of-fire weapon like that wouldnt be of much use in a mine. Looking around, I had the impression it was the right choice. The moment I touched down, I deposited the two Mecha cats I was holding. The suckers were pretty heavy, but at least they had little handles on them. The mecha deployed while I looked around. There were big chunks of rock and stone all over, fallen pieces from whatever had caused the hole above, I figured, but the walls themselves were smooth, as if someone had polished them. I unclipped myself from the grapples harness, then used an aug-command to send the whole thing wheeling back up. Reaching into my coat, I pulled out my Trench Maker, then tugged up the hood on my cloak. The cat-ears on my helmet actually served to keep the cloak in place, which was handy. Then with a flick of a switch, I turned on the cloak and faded away. My coats invisibility came on too, and with the two combined, I figured I was nearly entirely covered. My head from any direction but straight ahead, my legs from the same. Only the bottom of my boots and maybe my hands and guns when I stuck them out would be visible. That was pretty decent, I figured. Myalis, I muttered. Remind me to get a stealthy gun. Gladly. My Trench Maker was fun, but it was the loud kind of fun. Ill need some silent grenades too. I see three options there. Either chemical grenades, that spread toxins or solutions to break apart Antithesis, or Flesh Melters. The nanites are silent. Both options are fairly slow-acting. And the third option? I asked. The company is supposed to back-fill some mines once they are done extracting from them, but in most cases they mark the shafts as filled without doing so, or fill them with what seems to be industrial waste. How surprising, I said, my tone about as flat as the floor. The mine bent a little, and it was as I moved forward around that bend that I noticed the first Antithesis to greet me. A Model Four, one that seemed to be injured. I raised my Trench Maker, then hesitated. Loud. It would attract all the rest, which was both good and not. Then more aliens joined my new pal, some Model Threes that seemed a bit smaller than I was used to, and with a strange shuffling, a large worm appeared. A Model Eight. I hadnt seen one of those in a while. The Model Threes surrounded the Model Four, then on some unseen signal, they tore into it, chopping the Model Four apart and tearing limbs off before tossing them to the worm. You missed out on some points there. What the hell? Antithesis have no sense of individuality. No more than a leaf on a tree can think for itself. This is the hive pruning itself for more resources. A good sign. I tucked my Trench Maker away, then pulled up my Icarus. I had some options for the kind of explosive I wanted to thump ahead from the launcher, but really, there was an HE option and I was a high explosives kind of person. Lining up the shot took a second, then I pulled the trigger and felt the launcher kick back with a satisfying fwump. The HE round landed right in the middle of the pack and I flinched back as an explosion rocked past me. I hadnt considered what being in a tunnel would do with an explosion like that. At least it was significantly worse for the aliens. Targets Eliminated! Reward: 60 points New Total: 95 points I grinned. The worm alien was missing its front half, and the Model Threes were scattered across a few dozen metres, the bits of them that were still recognizable. I was going to pat myself on the back for a job well done when I heard some motion coming from deeper in the mine. A lot of motion. How many aliens are we dealing with? I asked. Likely several hundred to the low thousands, depending on how entrenched the hive is. As long as it has biomass, that number is likely to redouble every twenty-four hours. Ah... shit. *** Chapter Seventy - A Perfect Time for a Picnic Chapter Seventy - A Perfect Time for a Picnic Chapter Seventy - A Perfect Time for a Picnic Nutrition and dieting is hard! Try Nutrimin-os! Now with a percentage of your daily vitamin and mineral needs! --Nutrimin-os ad, before the 2048 lawsuit that resulted in the companys bankruptcy. *** I turned left and right, looking for any aliens. Well, living aliens. There were literal piles of dead ones all around, some still crackling and burning merrily away and lighting up the mineshaft. I imagined that the mining company would have to patch the mine up a little. Wed left a few holes on the floor. And the walls. And the ceiling. Mostly that was me, but Id share the blame around with Gomorrah too. Is that it? I asked. Looks like it, Gomorrah replied. She looked around as well, then casually hosed one pile of dead Antithesis. One of them flopped around, not entirely dead yet. There will be more, Ill bet, but I think we took out whatever the hive has acting as a mobile guard. So the next batch will be... what, the immobile guard? No, probably the Antithesis that guard the hive itself. Bigger, meaner bastards. But I dont think they tend to move as much. Kind of like a last line of defence. To protect the queen or whatever? Gomorrah looked my way. You need to pick up a damned textbook. Antithesis dont have queens. Theyre plants. They have root networks and flowers and seeds. Right, right, I said. Standing a bit taller, I stretched my back out until it popped. Can I have five to reload things? Gomorrah nodded. Thats probably for the best. I think we could both use a small break. I skipped breakfast. Id eaten breakfast with Lucy and the kittens that morning, a messy affair with cereal and burnt pancakes and some actual eggs, but that had been... I glanced at my augs time readout. It was nearing four in the afternoon. Not as long as it felt, but still a while ago. Yeah, I could use a bite, I admitted. Gomorrah stared at the ceiling for a bit, then tugged off a glove and held her hand up for a bit. That way. Uh, why? I asked as I looked down the way wed come from. The airs flowing from that direction and pushing deeper into the mines. Well be upwind of all the smoke. Upwind, right... which ones that? Gomorrah shrugged. Up is where the smells coming from, down is where its going. More or less. Guess snacking with smoke in the airs going to make it taste bad. Oh, the smell isn''t the problem, Gomorrah said. I like the smell of burning Antithesis. Its earthy. Its the chemicals I use in Archangels Kiss. Theyre all sorts of cancerous, and toxic, and generally liable to leave you dead from inhaling them. You named your flamethrower Archangels Kiss? I asked. Is that... like, some of your repressed nature trying to come out? Gomorrah started walking off. I was thinking of a more biblical angel. The nun rolled her eyes, still holding back laughter. Get over it. You know this means war, I said. You are terrifying, she said. Can I rub your belly until you feel better? I wanted to throw one of the little carrots at her, but they were absurdly good, and I wasnt going to waste food. This is really good, I said as I took a bite from the sandwich. The bread was good, and the meat and sauce and cheese inside were also... good. I lacked words to appropriately describe how it tasted, but it was definitely a whole order of magnitude better than some of the crap I''d tasted before. Mmm, have you tried the little juice boxes? Yeah, theyre great. Which ones did you try? There are more flavours? I asked. The strawberry one tastes really nice. Theres a milkshake one too. Oh, damn, I said. Milkshakes give me the runs though. Gomorrah lowered her spork. Could you not be quite that candid? Besides, I think theres a world of difference in quality from whatever you drank before. Pretty sure the ones I tried didnt have any milk in them. Though the shakes part was entirely accurate. Youre disgusting, she said. I grinned over at her. Alright, Ill stop. But its really fun to rile you up. She shook her head. Some friend. I only smiled harder. Yeah, actually. The nun actually looked as though she was starting to blush before she wiped it all away with a scowl. Do you have any plans for the rest of the hive? Well be fighting bigger, uglier bastards, right? I figure running in there guns blazing might be fun, but not all that safe. Maybe I can sneak ahead? Except this time I just plant a whole load of bombs all over and set them off all at once. And then we sweep in and pick off the rest, Gomorrah said. She took a bite from some veggie that crunched wetly, then nodded. Simple, but it might work. Does your chuuni fire cannon need air to work? My what? she asked. I pointed to the flamethrower. Its called the Archangels Kiss. And no, it doesnt require air to burn. But having an oxygen-rich environment wouldnt hurt. Why? Because I have these neat thermobaric bombs, and I think theyre pretty intense when they go off in tight spaces. Gomorrah bit her lower lip in a way that I would have enjoyed had I been trying to be flirty or something. That is a nice idea, she said. Uh, yeah, I said. I noticed that my MRE was done. I couldnt remember shovelling the last of it down, but I suppose I had. Anyway, I need to reload on ammo for my handgun, and refill the cats. I guess Ill leave them with you while I range ahead? That sounds fair. Gomorrah stood, then gave me a hand up too. Now, lets burn this hive down, shall we? *** Stray Bun Art Contest! Stray Bun Art Contest! Welcome, one and all, to the Stray Bun Art Contest! Lets start with the fun part! The winners of this contest will receive the following: First Place: A signed copy of Stray Cat Strut, Volume OneA can of award winning, Blairs maple syrup. This is the syrup that won the World Champion, Reserve Grand Champion, and Millenium Champion titles. (Its the good stuff)Three months of Royal Road PremiumA signed copy of Stray Cat Strut, Volume OneOne month of Royal Road PremiumA signed copy of Stray Cat Strut, Volume OneOne month of Royal Road Premium Send your incredible artwork to me via PM on Royal Road. Please use a linkable site like Imgur to post your image. On the 10th, all the artwork will be unveiled to my patrons who will be able to vote on the pieces they like the most, with yours truly acting as a tie-breaker. (Of note: you retain rights over your own art, I have no intention of using any of it for advertising, though the artwork will be posted for the world to see!) A few small rules: No lewds or overly suggestive images of underaged characters. Keep it PG13. Kissing and hugging and cuddles are fine, but... keep in mind that Broccoli and friends are all still teens. Cat and Lucy... arent.No limit on the number of artworks you can submit, but only one prize per person. I know some of you are insanely talented and could probably take all three places.By entering you consent to having your art posted on Royal Road, Space Battles and ScribbleHub for display.If you do win, then Ill contact you and ask for a P.O. Box or mailing address to send the book/syrup to. (I regularly send signed copies to Europe and Asia and North America, so I dont foresee any difficulties in reaching most participants, but if there is an issue with postage, well figure it out!)Super low-effort posts, or those wildly off-topic, will be ignored. Good memes will be shared on my Discord.Winners will be determined by the 15th of June! Keep warm! And may the bun be with you! Chapter Seventy-One - Chlorine Trifluoride Chapter Seventy-One - Chlorine Trifluoride Chapter Seventy-One - Chlorine Trifluoride Dont use explosives in enclosed spaces. Especially when youre in those spaces. --Someone with common sense. *** I wiggled my head around to make sure my helmet was on snug. It slipped down a little more, and then held on tight. Good enough. Alright, so, just give me like, half an hour? We can still chat in the meantime, I think we dont need to worry about signals and such. Very well, Gomorrah said. Do avoid setting any bombs off until were ready. Youll probably just kill yourself if you do. Ill try not to, I said. I really want to use fuel-air bombs, but we might settle for some nanite bombs, or bombs that melt aliens. I dont see why we couldnt mix it up. I nodded. DDT on steroids or something, I said. I paused, looked at my mecha cats, then down the darkened tunnel I would be travelling down all on my own. I wasnt actually concerned for myself, but I did kind of feel bad about leaving Gomorrah behind. The cats will keep you company, alright? Of course. And if I bite the bullet, you take care of my kittens for me, okay? The nun placed her hands on her hips, her flamethrower left to dangle by her side. You have no business being so fatalistic, she said. I grinned as I stepped up and wrapped her in a quick hug. I wasnt a hugger, no matter what Lucy accused me of, but... well, it felt nice. See you in a bit, nun-girl. Firing off a sloppy salute, I took off into the darkness. My coats invisibility wrapped around me, then my cloak came on and I flipped my hood up onto my head. I kept up a light jog, just fast enough to get my heart beating, but not so much that Id exhaust myself. Okay, lets talk bombs, I said. I have two suggestions. First, seeing as how both yourself and Gomorrah are fond of large explosions and copious amounts of fire, an aerosolized agent might be a decent solution to clear out a majority of the mines. So like, a gas that burns and hovers in the air? I asked. Essentially, yes. There are many variations available, but I would suggest a rather stable one, one unlikely to be immediately detected by the Antithesis and one that will only ignite under very specific conditions. So I dont accidentally blow myself up, thats always great. I would suggest aerosolized chlorine trifluoride. Bonded with a chemical agent that stabilizes it until either introduced to extreme heat, or minute amounts of hydrogen fluoride, which is a by-product of the chlorine trifluoride reaction. I frowned. So it wont go off until introduced to some chemical that it produces when its already going off? Hence creating a chain reaction, yes. Does it burn good? The gun came in a little box. It was significantly smaller than my Trench Maker, and not much of a gun at all. It had a handle, ergonomic and rubber-y, with a trigger, but thats about where it ended. The entire thing just looked like a box with a pair of lenses on the end and a recessed tube on the bottom. There was a knob next to where my thumb naturally fit. It was surprisingly heavy though. My augs connected to it, and I noticed a new reticule appearing on the ground where the not-gun was aimed. It had a depth meter next to it. It didnt take a genius to figure out that turning the knob up and down changed the depth. Neat, I said. Lets find something to blend real fast. I found a crack in the wall around the next bend, a hole that looked like it had been melted out of the stone, with large, obvious claw-marks scrabbling at the stone. Think theyre down there? I asked. The hole is rather small. I eyed it up. It was a bit of a squeeze. If I went in there, Id have a bitch of a time moving around. And if some alien came down the other way... That, and it was smaller than some of the models Gomorrah and I had cooked. They couldnt have come from here. Bomb, I said. Chlorine trifluoride? Yeah. The canister was roughly energy-drink sized, made of some silvery metal and with little legs at its base. I set it down, then pressed the one button atop it. The bomb synched up with my augmentations a moment later, labelled as bomb one. So, I could activate it at range? Made sense. I continued down the main tunnel, trying to shake off distracting thoughts and focus on the path ahead. Couldnt help but imagine that Gomorrah was bored back where Id left her, but she was a big girl, shed figure it out. Something shuffled ahead, and I stopped mid-step. There were lumps, here and there on the ground, unmoving. I couldnt see them, not well. I figured they were rocks or something, but then one shuffled forwards, pulling itself along on one leg. An Antithesis? One that was obviously very much injured. The streaks across the ground, barely visible as more darkness against the dark, had to have been from dragged aliens. I didnt know they could retreat. Raising my Claw up, I shifted it around until the reticule sat atop the alien, then I adjusted the depth. Five centimetres seemed to be the max. I fired. The not-gun shifted a bit, losing some weight a moment before it sort of just... inhaled. The Antithesis slumped. Well, I muttered. I guess it is a stealth weapon. *** Chapter Seventy-Two - Model Thirteen Chapter Seventy-Two - Model Thirteen Chapter Seventy-Two - Model Thirteen The amount of footage we have of an active hive is, even after all these years, very limited. Ten years, and nearly forty incursions, and this is all the video captured of the breeding ground of the enemy. --What to Expect When Youre Not Expecting Aliens, 2031 *** Myalis, what the fuck is that? I hissed after ducking down. I didnt want... whatever the fuck that was spotting me. That was a giant squid thing. It wasnt that big, but it took up a lot of space. I couldnt count the number of tentacles on it. There were at least nine big ones, but dozens of smaller, whip-ier ones, like... Lucy liked pictures of flowers, so Id seen my share, and the smaller tentacles looked like the little stems on lilies. Narrow and green, with a lump at the end. Only these were twice as long as I was tall. The problem was that this squid-thing had three bodies, each of them about as big as I was, and connected together by some of those bigger tentacles. I was pretty sure each body had wings too, like a cockroach''s. It looked like something a drunk god created mid-hangover. That is a Model Thirteen. Its a hive-defence model. You must be close to the hive. The numbers nice, I said. But I need more than just that. Model Thirteens are mid-sized close-quarters combat units. They are, essentially, flowers connected to the hive itself. Once deployed, they will die naturally after twelve to fourteen hours, or faster if they exert themselves. They have no mouth with which to feed. I nodded, encouraging her to go on. They are generally the last line of defence for a hive. Not tough, but difficult to kill. They cant quite fly, but they can leap very high and glide a little. Its worth noting that all three brains must be destroyed to fully kill a Model Thirteen. Their primary appendages, the thicker ones, end in hardened blades. These are essentially just chitin plates with sharpened edges. The smaller appendages have blocks of waste material at the ends, usually quite heavy. They can whip these at speeds approaching the supersonic. I took a moment to process that. Tough to kill, super mobile, and they had big chunks of fuck-you at the end of their big tentacles. Also, the little ones could whip out probably faster than I could react. Waste material? Materials an Antithesis hive cant find a use for. Some heavy metals, radioactive elements, certain gases like ozone. Calcium nitrate. Anything the hive cant find an immediate use for, but that it doesnt wish to part with too easily. Storing it with a Model Thirteen keeps it close to the main hive and if a segment of the hive needs a small amount of a rare element, the Model Thirteen can detach and cross a great distance at high speeds to deliver it. I was maybe some three hundred metres deeper into the mine, two forks away from where Gomorrah was likely waiting for me. I didnt think the hive was right around the corner, but I was certainly getting closer. Leaning forwards, I snuck my head around again. Maybe I could catch a glimpse of the Model Thirteen again and plug a few holes into it with my shiny new gun? New Total: 2416 points I lowered my Claw. God damned Model Nines, I muttered as I continued down the mine. I left a bomb on the end of the tunnel opposite the Model Nine corpse. A little later I paused again. There was something very much alien out ahead. Big leafy things, each one about as big as I was, pressed against the walls and set so close together they nearly touched. What the hell are those? I whispered even as I moved to be opposite them. Those are fin leaves. They serve as both heat dispersal, and energy generation. A very interesting form of kinetic energy generation. Its common with hives that are not able to collect sunlight or that are situated underground. The leaves are entirely harmless... unless you eat them. Do not eat them. I wasnt planning on it, I muttered. Approaching the leaves, I could actually feel the heat in the air. They were hot. Not oven hot or anything, but definitely a few degrees warmer than the ambient temperature. I placed a bomb next to them. Maybe that would warm them up even more. . Were close, I said. Very. Be cautious. Keep me informed about... you know, alien shit. I dont like not knowing. I moved away from the leaves, still keeping a wary eye on them. Id have blown them up, but the noise would have been a problem. The passage bent again ahead of us, and strangely enough, it seemed to open up too. A larger section? It sorta made sense. The mine was designed to go after specific spots in the ground, where whatever they were mining for was most common. That meant when they reached a deposit theyd mine it all out. A bit sloppy, maybe, but I was hardly complaining. The bigger room was filled. Roots, or something like roots, clung to the walls, with big, bulbous sacks hanging from them like grapes in a fancy wine commercial. The ground was covered in foliage, and in that mess were hundreds of aliens. Model Threes moving in packs, Model Fours in small units, a few Model Fives. There were others too, some of those giant worms moving in and out of narrow holes in the walls, and tree-like stalks across the room with big gourds on them had flowers that I recognized as Model Thirteens. There had to be a few hundred aliens. Maybe a thousand. And that wasnt including the tons of plantlife. The centre of the room looked like a jungle in miniature. I was going to need a whole lot of bombs. *** Chapter Seventy-Three - A Walkabout Chapter Seventy-Three - A Walkabout Chapter Seventy-Three - A Walkabout It was actually something of a blessing. Botany as a science was taken seriously, but it was always treated as... dare I say, inferior. The less intelligent cousin of biology. Who cares about people concerned over stuff like plants? And then aliens invaded. Plant aliens. I never saw so much grant money being flung around in my life. Suddenly, everyone wanted to know more about how plants worked, and we realized that for all that we knew, it was only really enough to know how little we had dug into it. Let me tell you, having the president ask you where a tree has its brain is a trip. --Excerpt from Leafy Me - A Memoir, 2028 *** I hesitated for a while as I considered what to do. There was a lot of hive, and there were a lot of aliens moving around. Though, I guess pointing out a difference between the two was kind of useless. The big egg sacs... seeds? The big things, in which the aliens I was familiar with spawned, grew fast. I could tell that some of them had grown in the ten or so minutes since I arrived. How long did it take the hive to grow a Model Three? It didnt matter, I guess. In the end, theyd all need to be burned down one way or another. I eyed some models that were jumping around from branch to branch, often stopping by a sac that looked ready to be harvested and helping it down. A couple of them gathered around each fresh alien murder machine and lowered it down, then they tore off the wrapping, as it were, and quickly brushed down the fur or whatever of the Antithesis they uncovered. What are those? I asked. My helmet kept my voice from escaping any. Model Tens. Though they should by all rights be called Model Ones. They are one of the original Antithesis models, with very little by means of changes even across centuries of evolution. They are mostly harmless, and will only attack if something threatens the hive directly, and even then, it will usually be an attempt to distract and win time for other combat-models to be born. The back of their palms has a small bill that is sharp; it is their only natural weapon other than their grip. They looked like weird monkeys. Headless, six-limbed monkeys. Their face was where anything elses neck and clavicle would be, and their limbs all ended in strange hands. Three fingers, and two thumbs on either end. They moved by springing and bouncing forward and swinging along on the many vines and branches sticking out of the hive. Neat, I said. It was, in a sort of academic way, I guess. Wheres the hives brain? An Antithesis hive has no brain. How does it think? I asked. The same way any other plant does. It grows, expands, and evolves to suit its environment. It is not intelligent in any traditional sense, but it is infinitely persistent. You will never see an Antithesis surrendering, or tiring in the face of adversity. That somehow made it worse. Thats a vine from a Model Thirteen. It would alert it. It didnt take much to notice the huge, flower-like body nearby, still clinging onto the side of a tree-like pillar. Thanks, I whispered. This place wasnt safe. For some reason, it was hard to keep that in mind. Maybe it was because I wasnt actively fighting anything. If the hive goes on alert, you will have a much harder time moving across it. I nodded and kept low, only pausing to kneel down over a spot where two roots met and order another bomb to tuck away. I noticed some leafy plant wavering in the air at my passing. Was the hive sensing something? I chose not to find out. The first passage wasnt very profound. It ended some hundred metres in, a huge machine wedged into the tunnel, with some lights on around it and plenty of signs that the hive had been poking at the device. They cant use tech, right? I asked. No. Though they can, on rare occasions, observe and replicate the effects of technology, especially the more mechanical parts. Great, thats all we need. Aliens pedaling bikes around. They dont do wheels very well. I left a bomb next to the mining machine. It was huge, and probably cost more money than someone like me-- someone like I used to be would see in ten lifetimes. Sucked for the company that Id be burning it down. The next passage was a lot more interesting. More of those fin leaves, hundreds of them, all lined up against the walls. The tunnel here seemed to be moving upwards a little bit too. It was hot, hot and humid. Think there might be an exit down this way, I said. It was just a gut feeling, but when Gomorrah and I came back down to investigate, this was the path wed take. I knelt down and placed a canister next to some of the leaves, then another some thirty or so metres deeper into the mine. I got up, patted my pants down, then turned right into the waiting tentacles of a monster. *** Chapter Seventy-Four - Sprint Chapter Seventy-Four - Sprint Chapter Seventy-Four - Sprint Being on coms means providing the information that will keep people alive [...] You can generally tell when something has gone wrong when the people at the other end start swearing incoherently. --Excerpt from a Guide to Wartime Communications, 2045 *** I think the only reason I didnt get myself dead was because the monster was expecting me as much as I was expecting it. The Model Thirteen was hovering close to the ground, a few of its tentacles holding it up while its much smaller tentacles were reaching out ahead of it. At a guess, it felt as if it was searching for something, like looking for something by touch when the lights are off. Had it noticed me before? Or maybe it was just suspicious. It didnt matter. The alien was definitely staring at me with all three of its faces. I pulled my Claw up and fired, barely even making sure that the reticule was lined up with one of its bodies. A whip-crack sounded out and I felt as if someone had just punched me right in the chest. Id gotten into trouble once. A bunch of middle-class looking assholes had been visiting the ground-level, and they started to annoy Lucy and a couple of the other kids. They probably wouldnt do anything, just some older teens being assholes. Of course, I was filled with more nerves than sense back then, and I wanted to impress Lucy, so I started a fight with them. The sensation of all the air in my lungs being rammed out of them was hard to forget. I saw a glimmer in the air as my coats shield thing stopped a few more tendrils whipping out at me, but it was only a glimpse before I crashed down a few metres back and rolled. Guns, I gasped. My shoulder-mounted weapons deployed and immediately fired. A railgun shot tore a hole through one of the Model Thirteens bodies, but that barely made it hitch before it drove itself forwards. Shit! I rolled back. With my cloaks still on, it would--I hoped--have a better chance dodging the whips, and rolling would get me further back. Problem was, while rolling I wasnt firing back. My plasma caster took some potshots, but it kept folding back in not to stop my roll. The Model Thirteen loomed large above me, the hardened ends of its larger tentacles crashing into the ground. I gasped as one of them rammed me in the side. It didnt pierce through my coat, and my undersuit hardened, stopping it from crushing me. Still hurt like a bitch, and it had effectively pinned me in place. If they did, then I had to hope that there was enough chaos around to keep them busy. Myalis, I hissed. Cats. Three of them. Not in a box! Certainly! The thumps sounded out, one after each step I took. A glance back revealed three mecha cats unfolding to their full height. Then it was two as a Model Thirteens whip smashed one of them apart. The other two jumped back, plasma claws burning and back-mounted guns unfolding to spray bullets all over the place. They didnt even need to aim to hit an alien, there were so many scrambling after me. The hives attention turned on them, and I pressed myself to move faster. Maybe cardio really was a good idea. I flicked another canister to the side. The more fire, the better, I figured. A Model Thirteen dropped from the ceiling ahead of me and I cursed as I whipped out my Trench Maker. I emptied the magazine into its centremost body, and my Railgun unfolded to punch a hole into the leftmost. My plasma gun spat fire at the third, blinding it for long enough that I was able to duck under one of its tentacles and could continue running. I wasnt the only one running. All the little models were rushing about, and the sacs on the side were being torn open from the inside. Model Tens were zipping around all over, and I swore as one of them jumped at me, all six limbs trying to grab me at the same time. I punched it, but it caught my hand. So I finally got to use the plasma claws in my cybernetic hand, the inch-long burning nails melting into the model before I flung its corpse aside. One of them jumped onto my back, and I swiped it off with my tail, the plasma thagomizer on the end of my tail batting it aside. I was losing the advantage I had from my stealth. I need grenades. Garrotes! Just keep giving me more! I caught the first to appear and flung it over my shoulder after thumbing the trigger on it. It started to blend the models behind me. Three more tossed back the same way helped, and I started to underhand some ahead of me, trying to place them around the entrance of the tunnel Id come into the Hive from. My railgun was spinning and firing, my plasma gun hissing as a rejoinder. The garrote grenades, with their wildly spinning mess of whippy wires, created a narrow passage, one that I squeezed through before turning around and tugging my Trench Maker out again. I planted a few rounds into the first aliens through the crack, at least until I clicked empty. I cursed, spun on a heel, and bolted down the centre of the tunnel. The garrotes wouldnt last forever, and the passage between was big enough for plenty of models to pass through. I had to get out of the AOE of my gas bombs so I could burn this entire place to the ground. Totally starting to sympathize with Gomorrahs love of burning shit. *** Chapter Seventy-Five - Triggering, But the Fun Sort Where Things Explode Chapter Seventy-Five - Triggering, But the Fun Sort Where Things Explode Chapter Seventy-Five - Triggering, But the Fun Sort Where Things Explode People go on and on about what can turn a lady on. Nice men, nicer women, fat stacks of cash. Power. Theyre right about the last one. We do love power, especially when its nice and packaged and easily weaponized. Some folk think that the purest form of that is the cannon, and its true; bitches love cannons. But a lady? A lady likes explosives. --Salamander Storm, 2041 *** I wasnt an endurance runner. Or any other sort of runner. I was more of a sit with Lucy on my lap kind of girl. My breaths came hot and fast, my heart beat all crooked, as my thighs and calves burned. Still, I didnt have the option to stop and catch a breather. My-Myalis, ammo, I huffed, my Icarus raised in one hand. A magazine appeared before me and I caught it out of the air and slapped it into place. I barely aimed as I ran sideways for a bit and held the trigger down. Most of the aliens behind me were Model Threes, but there were others, Model Tens riding along, and farther back--but catching up--were Model Thirteens. Id be swarmed soon. I needed a moment to think and act. Garrote! I caught the grenade, jammed my thumb over its trigger, then flicked it behind me underhand. That wouldnt do jack to stop them, but it might mulch a couple before they caught up to me. I needed something bigger, that didnt explode. Gas! I said. Acid. Another grenade, this one a canister. I flipped the top off and dropped it by my feet a second before it started to hiss and spit. A glance behind me showed that the gas was expanding and climbing to the ceiling. It would mess with the Model Thirteen then. I was pretty sure it wouldnt kill it, but maybe injuring it would be enough. The others might live too, but every bit of damage was good in my book. I spun around a corner, the same one where Gomorrah and I had encountered the first aliens in this mine. And right there, like some sort of angel, was the woman in question. Go left, she said, her head nodding to her left. I ran past her, then sighed as I felt a powerful wash of warmth at my back. My run slowed down, and I veered off towards the wall. Slumping against it while I sucked in air. My railgun and plasma caster were both out of ammo. My Claw and Trench Maker too, though those hadnt been terribly useful. All I did was take potshots at the aliens. My Icarus had... six HE rounds left. I wondered if I had time to reload. At least, until I looked over and saw the wall of fire ahead of Gomorrah. It was bright and thick enough that the only things making it through were the half-melted remains of some of the faster models, their momentum enough to carry them past the fire. My mecha cats were stationed around Gomorrah, one on each side while the third came over and stood near me. Thanks, I said as soon as I turned on our comms. No problem, Gomorrah replied. That Model Thirteen that came this way was something. Sure, Gomorrah said. I stretched my back out as I dialed up Cause Player. It felt like Id had a weight lifted off my back, just from being so close to Gomorrah and out of the tentacle-range of so many aliens. Stray Cat, Cause Player said. Are you alright? Im fine. Were both fine. But you might not be. Gomorrah and I are about to set off the mother of all firebombs, and I wanted to make sure you werent in the burn radius. Uh, thanks. Ill send you my coordinates. Ive been mostly exploring the off-shoot tunnels near the entrance. Not much more than some lower-level models here. Good. The hives not that big, I dont think. Its also covered in explosives. Were clearing out of the blast radius ourselves. Right, can you send me the projected area of effect? Sending now! Got it.... Looks like Im way out of it, should be fine. But thanks for calling. Myalis had been kind enough to let me see that same map, with Cause Players location blinking away on it, and Gomorrah and I represented by two blinking lights. The centre of the blast zone was blue, turning to purple, then red, then orange all the way to green. We were still in the yellow, but it looked like that was about to end soon. Here, Gomorrah said a hundred or so metres later. Right on the edge of the yellow zone, according to Myalis map. Seemed safe enough. Okay, I said. I had twenty-one canisters marked as functional, with one of the lot marks as damaged but operational. The UI to slave them all together was as simple as checking off the select-all box. Do you want to do the honours? I asked. You set them up, Gomorrah said. Blow away. ... Was that innuen-- Just set them off, she said. I grinned and pressed the metaphorical red button. A whole lot of nothing happened. Uh, I said. The Trigger button was greyed out. I couldnt even jab it a few extra times. The canisters are spraying their load out into the air. The aerosolized chemical needs time to disperse and travel. It will trigger the actual burn when ideal saturation is reached. That is, when theres a good amount of chlorine trifluoride in the air without it being either too thick or thin. Which should be happening... now. I turned, my ears picking up a sharp tack sound from down the tunnel. It meant that I could see the wave of dust rushing towards me. Not that I could react. My coat flapped and I took a step back as a blast of air shot past. Whoa! I said. Was that it? Gomorrah asked a moment later. Then the air turned and was sucked back down the mineshaft, and in the end, like some sort of vision of hell itself, came a wall of fire. The floor started to tremble, slowly, then with growing ferocity. Maybe we should run? I asked. *** Chapter Seventy-Six - Fight Fire with Fire Chapter Seventy-Six - Fight Fire with Fire Chapter Seventy-Six - Fight Fire with Fire One way to take care of uncontrolled fire is to use more fire. At least, I think thats how it works. I dont know. I kill things, Im not a smart person! --US Army, Flamethrower tank operator, 2037 *** I took a deep breath, then another when that one didnt feel so good. There was air in the... air, but it was thin, like breathing around some of the vents near street-level factories. Think its safe? I asked Gomorrah. The tunnel was pretty much cleared, the charred remains of Antithesis slumped here and there, and the walls ever so slightly blackened by the wash of fire that had burst past. I could feel a stirring in the air, wind coming in from the opening into the mines and pushing in towards the hive. Had the bombs going off created a sort of vacuum? I didnt know enough to say, really, but that sounded likely. I dont think anything about this is safe, Gomorrah said. But I figure it was a lot less safe for the aliens. I nodded, then shuffled a bit before tucking my launcher to my shoulder. Lets move in, then? Gomorrah hefted up her flamethrower, the tip of the nozzle burping with a lick of flame. Take the lead? Yeah, because being in front of the pyro nun is where everyone wants to be, I said. She gave me a look before I chuckled and jogged ahead a bit. My mecha cats moved up around us, forming up in a wedge with me at its point and Gomorrah in its centre. We started walking down the mineshaft, at first with easy confidence, but when I started noticing the smoke pooling by the ceiling I slowed down a little. Lets take it easy, yeah? I asked. Certainly, Gomorrah said. I flicked my augs around and found Cause Players contact. I sent him a quick text. S.Cat: You ok? It didnt take long for him to reply. CP: Yes. CP: Thanks for the explosion. It made for a cool scene! If he was happy about that, then he was fine. At least, thats what I figured. We came around a bend, and I slowed down as I noticed light ahead. A lot of light. Oranges and reds and yellows, splashing against the grey stone walls. Thats concerning, I said. I took a deep breath, then coughed a bit. The air from the mask tasted fresh, like the air inside one of those enclosed gardens, only better. Much, I said. Say, I just killed a lot of aliens, but you helped, how does the split work? Is there one? There is, Myalis said, not in my head, but out loud. Or at least, through my coms. I had the impression it was to share with Gomorrah as well. Points gained by Vanguard working together are split amongst all Vanguard based on the amount they accomplish. I assume that the split is fair? Gomorrah asked. Of course. Most splits are even, 55-55, but in some situations the split will favour one Vanguard over another, if they did more to contribute. Im not good at math, I said. But Im about a hundred and ten percent sure that that doesnt add up, I said. In order to avoid penalizing Vanguards who wish to work together, the amount of points gained when there are more than one Vanguard is increased. It means that even if a Vanguard working on their own would gain more points, the amount isnt as significant. Huh, I said. Thats pretty neat. Gomorrah gained some points from your bombing just now, on account of having helped you, and by providing cover fire when you returned. Not as many points as you made, but still a significant number. Gomorrah nodded. Im satisfied with it. Should we keep moving? The fire looks like its calming down. Its burning itself out. Right, I said. I took the lead again, enjoying the ability to breath easily despite the warmth in the air. Still had a bit of an itch in my throat though. Figured Id have to ask Myalis for super lozenges later. As we moved down and deeper into the mines, I felt the temperature rising. There was a good reason for that. Well, shit, I said. We stood next to the edge of a fire. Not a big roaring thing, but still a steadily burning fire that stretched out across the floor and onto the walls, and onto the ceiling, the stone lit up in a way that stone usually didnt. The fire went on for a while, deeper into the mine than I could see. The air was thick, warm enough that it almost felt physical. The air is acidic. Your equipment should be able to resist most of it. It is settling down though. Given a few more minutes the area should be merely impossible hot. Nice, Gomorrah said. I looked at her, then back at the fire. Is this what you get off on? Oh, shut up, you know my love for fire isnt sexual or anything. I just like fire. The way someone might like a good meal. Uh-huh, I said. I wasnt going to poke at that... not right then. Definitely later, though. It was good teasing material. So how do we get past all that? I can manage, Gomorrah said. At least we know that the Antithesis are going to have a hard time with it. Though Im sure they could adapt to it eventually. Lets get to killing them before that happens, yeah? She nodded, then raised her flamethrower and fired a wave of white flames ahead of us that clung to the ground and somehow pushed away the other fire before burning off with whitish smoke. Where the flames cleared, the floor was left smoking, but fireless. Ladies first, she said. I eyed the ground, then poked it with the tip of my boot. This all seems like its really, needlessly, dangerous. So it should be right up your alley. Now come on. She stepped by me and fired her flamethrower at more of the ground. Lets finish this. Chapter Seventy-Seven - Deeper Chapter Seventy-Seven - Deeper Chapter Seventy-Seven - Deeper The Cleaners are a group of samurai that show up after the main thrust of an incursion is done, and after the hive is declared dead. Some of them are somewhat popular, but never as much as the more famous main-line samurai. Their work is out of the limelight, cleaning up after the bigger, louder samurai, and ensuring that an incursion is well and truly dead. --Excerpt from, The Cleaners, a documentary, 2037 *** Gomorrah continued to clear the way, even though the fires were finally starting to die down. I think the lack of stuff to burn was finally calming things down. It was still swelteringly hot though, and I could feel myself sweating like mad in my suit. I kinda hoped that it was going to cool off soon, but the patches of ground that were still glowing-hot after the fire finally went out hinted that it wouldnt cool down that quickly. I think were nearly there, Gomorrah said. I looked around and vaguely recognized the area. It wasnt like there were road signs to follow, but I did have a minimap of sorts and the passages seemed familiar. We were at an intersection away from the hive. How do you figure? I asked. I was looking at your progress on the map earlier; this is about where you stopped. In the next section, I mean, she said. Made sense. Aww, were you watching out for me? More points if you leave to join the Lord. I laughed. Nice. Yeah, the next spot is where the hive was. Was? You sure its entirely gone? I hope it is, I said. The room had been pretty large, and I wasnt sure if Id put enough canister bombs to fully cover it. On our trek down, I could spot the places where the bombs range didnt overlapthere wasnt usually much damage in those spots. A few Antithesis had tried to hide in there, but it looked like theyd been cooked anyway. We reached the hive, and I cursed and brought my Icarus up. Some of the trees remained, burning merrily and tossing up brackish smoke to the ceiling. Roots still covered the ground, oozing puss and whatever passed for blood in an Antithesis hive. The outer layer of the roots had been burned off, but the fire hadnt turned the whole place to ash. The wrecked remains of one of my cat mecha was laying nearby, crushed and broken into so much scrap. Nothing moving, Gomorrah said as she swept her gaze around. This place is big though. Not as cooked as Id like, I said. I can fix that, she said. Give me ten minutes or so. Yeah, actually, thats not a terrible idea. I pointed across the room. That tunnels the one I didnt explore. Some Model Thirteen spotted me when I was going down it. I tossed a bomb in, but I dont think itll have burned too deep into it. Maybe we can head over that way, then burn the hive behind us, Gomorrah said. I started to nod, then swore and jumped onto Gomorrah. I nodded. So were not undertrained, are we? I dont think thats how it works. Gomorrah and I crossed the hive, being careful as we stepped over roots and the charred husks of dead Antithesis. I had one scare when a Model Ten flopped out of a tree, looking halfway melted, but mostly unburned. When we reached the entrance to that one tunnel I hadnt explored, Gomorrah turned and brought her flamethrower up. She fiddled with the controls, doing something with them for a moment before aiming up and at the far end of the room. A stream of burning liquid came pouring out of the flamethrower, the spray widening and splashing the floor and bits of hive with whatever fire-juice Gomorrah was using. The nun started moving her gun left and right, coating the far end of the room before she started to lower her aim to spread the joy around a little more. Like buttering a piece of toast, but not. Nice work, I said. She nodded. Thatll do. The room was a burning inferno, flames taller than I was hissing and spitting even as the remaining trees crumbled apart and the roots and plants clinging to the ceiling crashed down, sending waves of embers into the air. Gomorrahs flamethrower used some weird shit to burn stuff. I wasnt going to poke at it, it was her area of expertise, and it certainly seemed to be working just fine. I patted her on the shoulder and nodded deeper into the tunnel. Lets go? Certainly. Lets just hope this isnt a dead-end. Uh, I said. I didnt think of that. Youre a bit of an idiot, you know? Ive been told as much, yeah, I said. The nun sighed. The maps say that this tunnel links back up to another, we should be able to loop back around closer to the entrance. Thats if the mine didnt collapse anywhere. We started down the shaft. After a dozen metres or so, the signs of there being a massive fire died down, the floor only streaked by fire here and there. A few bodies were left slumped on the groundAntithesis that had tried to run? I almost felt bad for them. It was a hell of a way to go. The first sign that the hive might not be entirely dead were some small roots, with the start of those sacs that the models grew out of sprouting all along their length. I traced the root down into the depths of the shaft and around a corner. Fresh, or was that there before the hive went up? I asked. Either way, its trouble. Well, its a good thing were around. Because we can do our job? I grinned. Nah, because I figure were good at making trouble, especially to things that are already troublesome. Gomorrah chuckled. I dont think thats how any of that works, but sure. Lets finish all of this; I want a bath. *** Chapter Seventy-Eight - M21 Chapter Seventy-Eight - M21 Chapter Seventy-Eight - M21 Now that weve seen everything these aliens can throw at us, Im certain our brave soldiers can handle them! --General Legstronger, USMC, 2026. *** Wait, theres another bunch of them here, Gomorrah said. I sighted down the length of my Icarus, then nodded. Burn away. We were some hundred metres down that last tunnel, and I was beginning to suspect that the hive was bigger than Id thought. Sure, there were plenty of dead plants in that last big room, but the tunnel had dozens of roots crossing the floor, some of them splitting off and rejoining others seemingly at random. We kept finding dead bodies at first, burnt Antithesis, but that stopped after a while. The marks across the floor, as if bodies had been dragged off, werent reassuring at all. Gomorrah stepped up to a crack in the wall, one the roots were using to hang on and where a bunch of small seed-pods were starting to grow. The aliens within werent any bigger than a fetus and they wouldnt get any bigger as Gomorrah sprayed them with a shower of liquid fire. Thats that, she said. I nodded. Lets keep moving, I said. A couple of my mecha cats leapt ahead, scouting out the mine before we reached it, in case some Model Nine was pretending to be a rock or some piece of root or something. The roots are getting thicker, Gomorrah said. I looked at them, then nodded. Theyd started off no thicker than my wrist. Now they were around thigh-sized. Yeah. I think maybe that hive I burned wasnt the main thing after all. If it wasnt, then the Antithesis learned how to excavate. The maps show that most of the rest of the mine is all tight passages. Though... there is an intersection coming upshould be a bit wider. Great, I said. It looks like Cause Player is down one of the other tunnels; a good distance away, but still coming closer. If hes killing everything there, then well only have a very short mineshaft left to explore, and it ends after about fifty metres. So, that was it. If we cleared out this last bit of tunnel, assuming we didnt miss anything, then everything in the mine would be cleared. One of the mecha cats rumbled, a low growl that had my hackles rising and my breath catching. I squinted ahead, and my sight zoomed in on... something. The last intersection was wide enough to let one of the mining trucks turn without too much trouble, and they were big trucks. Something was filling the intersection almost entirely, and it wasnt until we were a little closer that I realized that it was another hive, but one that was different. Instead of a sort of sparse jungle with dozens of wide trees rising up and holding onto seed pods, this one was more like a massive lump on the ground. One covered in flowers, with a few thicker roots poking out of it that seemed to be gestating new models even as we approached, but still, just a big lump. Funky, I said. Stumbling back, I tried to make room to bring my launcher up. Being in the AOE be damned, I wanted the fucker dead. Hed hurt Gomorrah! Another swipe, and this time my Icarus was launched across the tunnel. I saw dark eyes. Bored, placid eyes, like a cow in one of those anti-vegan commercials, not the eyes of a predator trying to kill menot that it mattered at all. It launched itself at me, mouth wide and filled with serrated teeth. Then one of my mecha cats chomped down over its neck and dragged it aside, enough that I was only tossed aside when it struck out with one of its rear limbs. I landed in a roll and got back to my feet. All three mecha cats were on it, two of them chomping and clawing at the monster even as they fired into it from point blank. The third was further back, guns rattling and poking little holes into the Model Twenty-Ones sides that didnt seem to be nearly as deep as I wanted. Climbing to one knee, I let my back-mounted guns deploy even as I turned my invisibility back on. Leaving it off to make Gomorrah comfortable had been something of a mistake. My railgun fired. I stared, flummoxed, as the ceiling exploded. There was a vague slice cut into the air, tracing the path the round had taken. It struck the alien on one of its broad shoulder plates, then went up and hit the ceiling where stone was crumbling down. The fucker was tough enough to make railgun rounds bounce? The Model Twenty-One grabbed one of my mecha from off of its shoulder and threw it to the ground, then it pinned the mech down with a clawed hand, grabbed it by the middle with its jaw, and pulled. I winced as the mecha was torn in half. Its guns never stopped firing into the monster, not until it stomped them down. Two sputtering hoses of fire hissed through the air and covered the Model Twenty-One from top to bottom. That... that hurt, Gomorrah said. I laughed, relieved, but I had to focus. The Model turned towards Gomorrah, evidently pissed, and its muscles bunched to jump. I yanked my Claw out, aimed at its rear leg, and fired. The Model Twenty-One launched itself at Gomorrah, but it was a weak, abortive jump, and the nun rolled aside. It was starting to look worse for wear, and I was more than pleased to help it along, firing every last round from my Claw into its flank. Its skin peeled off, and it shook itself, moulting in the space of a few seconds and revealing skin so dark it was hard to tell where the monster ended and the tunnel behind started. I swore. I didnt know what kind of bullshit this monster in particular was up to, but in my book, anything that had been shot that much should have lain down and died already. Myalis, I need a bomb. *** Chapter Seventy-Nine - Boss Fight Chapter Seventy-Nine - Boss Fight Chapter Seventy-Nine - Boss Fight Do not underestimate the Antithesis. Just because a models number is twice as high, doesnt mean it will only be twice as likely to kill you. --Tiny, in a street interview, 2049 *** The trick was picking the right sort of bomb. Nothing that would kill Gomorrah and I, that was a given, and something that would still put the Model Twenty-One down. It was injured. The Mecha cats had peppered it with little holes, none that seemed too deep, but in spots where their fire had been concentrated, the aliens skin looked like it had been assaulted by a cheese-grater. Gomorrahs fire blackened some of its skin, and I was sure emptying every round from my Claw into its flank had done nasty things to its musculature. Im afraid theres nothing I can give you that will kill the Model Twenty-One instantly without risking yourself or Vanguard Gomorrah. Shit, I swore. Noise grenades. A grenade appeared in the air next to me and I snapped it out of the air. I didnt have to look to pull the tab on it and fling it under the Model Twenty-One. Almost as soon as the grenade landed it started to make its damned keening howl. The Model Twenty-One shook its overly large head, its focus moving away from Gomorrah, who was busy backing up, and to the ground. A leg stomped down on the grenade, crushing it and killing its noise with a squawk. I didnt know if the resonator had actually done anything in those few seconds, but if it crushed it, then it didnt like it. Another, I muttered as I started to run. I wanted to keep behind the monster. Hopefully it wouldnt notice me tossing the grenades by its feet. The Model Twenty-One was even faster to destroy the next one. Another, I said. And then give me something thatll blow up in its face. I tossed the next resonator behind it, and the alien spun and crushed it faster than I could blink. The next grenade clattered by its feet, much quieter. It stomped on it all the same. I flung an arm over my face as an explosive blast roared past me. The Model Twenty-One stumbled to the side, its front looking even worse, with its skin blackened and an entire leg missing from the joint down. Blackish blood was sloping down onto the ground in a rapid pitter-patter beat. It raised its head, one eye partially shut, and looked right at me. Ah, shit, I said. I tucked my Claw away and grabbed my Trench Maker even as I started running again. My back-mounted guns swivelled around and started to fire at it. The plasma caster didnt seem to do much at all, only leaving glowing welts in its thick hide, but my railguns next round didnt bounce. It burrowed into the monsters chest, leaving a finger-sized hole of glowing flesh where it had passed. It still wasnt dead though. A wash of fire shoved the Model Twenty-One to the side, its claws scraping against the ground for purchase. Thanks! I shouted as I tried to run faster. Id seen it wreck one of my mechs, and I was pretty sure they were tougher than I was. Its refusing to burn, Gomorrah said. She sounded very insulted about it. Damn, that thing is tough, I said. Gomorrah lowered her launcher. Yeah. I knew the higher numbered models were going to be a challenge, but this is more than I thought. That Model Twenty-One was approximately twenty percent smaller than average, and its reaction times were slower than usual. Its very likely that it was born before the end of its incubation period because of the strain on the hive. So the real thing would be tougher. And its a stealth model, I said. Its a unit that usually fights as a pack. I tilted my head left and right, to crack my neck. Well then. Thats just plain terrifying. Agreed, Gomorrah said. The heat had faded some, and the glowing ball of fire was starting to break up, sending showers of sparks hissing through the air around it with fire-cracker pops. Then it gradually sank into the stone around it. Damn, I repeated. We should move on, burn the rest of the hive out and get out of here, Gomorrah said. I could use a break. Maybe a nice nap. Something to drink... I considered what else to add to my list. A hug from Lucy? I think we could both use that, Gomorrah agreed absently. I shot her a look. Shall we get going? she asked before heading out. Hey wait! Lucys hugs are mine! Im not sharing! What are you on about Cat? Cant you take anything seriously for a minute or two? We went the long way around the Model Twenty-One. It wasnt moving anymore, but that didnt stop me from reloading my Claw and then emptying it in the bigger chunks of its body, just in case. If there was ever anything that deserved to be double-tapped, it was that heap of trouble. I didnt think the models past twenty would be that, uh, insane, I said. Is it dead? We got the points for it, Gomorrah confirmed. Models above Twenty make up nearly half of all Antithesis forces. If you were to graph the distribution of models out, it would appear as a near-exponential decrease, with the median of models being between the model twenties and thirties. And they get worse as they get bigger numbers? I asked. Generally speaking, yes. Though there are of course utility models across the scale. Most models past Thirty arent necessarily terrestrial. Okay, I said. I could have an existential crisis about that later. I found my Icarus, the gun scuffed and battered, but still functional-looking, and I saw that Gomorrah paused to mourn over her Archangel''s Kiss. Figured wed made enough points to buy another, but I didnt begrudge her taking some time for that. I had one mecha cat left, the one that held onto my old helmet still. Tough one, arent you, I said. Lets hope we wont be putting that toughness to the test anymore. *** Chapter Eighty - Burning Away Chapter Eighty - Burning Away Chapter Eighty - Burning Away The Model Twenty-One is a fast-moving, ground-locked Antithesis unit commonly found on the fringes of the territory of an incursion that has been entrenched for any period over seventy-two hours. They are usually found in packs of three to five, often accompanied by groups of Model Threes. They are, by nature, ambush predators and scouts for bigger, stronger units, but do not underestimate them on account of their relatively small size. They earn their position in the twenty-ranks. --The Familys Guide to The Enemy - Ver. 4.8496 - 2057. *** I think thats it, I said as I took a last look around. The tunnel leading off that last hive-infested intersection didnt have much to it except some stone walls and another one of those big mining rigs. A few roots were reaching into the room, but they didnt get too far down. Gomorrah made a point of burning them on the way past, leaving the corridor behind us to fill with noxious fumes and smoke. Looks like it, Gomorrah said. I nodded. Well, Im ready to get the fuck out of these tunnels, I said. Maybe see some sky, a few clouds. You know, outside stuff? Breathe in the smog and stretch under the radiation-heavy sunlight? Gomorrah asked. She looked around at the mineshaft we were in. Yeah, I think that would be nice. I couldnt help but glance up at the ceiling. It was easy to ignore that there were several hundred thousand tonnes of earth above that could come crashing down at any moment. All the bombs and such wed been using probably didnt do anything to help the local geographys stability. Lets, I said before I took off back towards the intersection. Gomorrah had emptied both of her shoulder-mounted launchers at the big egg sac that had produced the Model Twenty-One. It meant that I had to let her carve out a path from the tunnel we were in back to the other passage we hadnt taken over, but that wasnt a big deal. I was pretty happy with seeing the hive chunk on fire. Once we were past that, it was straight down a long tunnel where a few roots had gone questing along the floor, but none of them reached all that far. One moment, Gomorrah said. I looked around, making sure there wasnt anything but Gomorrah, myself, and my remaining cat mech around. Unless there was something else and it was invisible. Invisible enemies were entirely unfair. What are you doing? I asked when I saw her head bowed for a moment. Is it prayer time? If it was, your interrupting would be rude, she said. Her hand opened by her side, and a container appeared just above it. Firebomb. Nothing too spectacular. She pulled her rocket launcher from her shoulder and shoved the container into an opening in its side. Ill be down that way, I said with a vague gesture in the direction opposite the one she was going to burn. Gomorrah sniffed and raised the launcher to her shoulder just as I started to jog away. The wash of heat was nothing like the one with her plasma ball nightmare thing, but I still felt it, and it did a number on what was left of the hive, even though it had been on fire already. No such thing as too much fire in the eyes of my favourite nun. Thats better, she said as she rejoined me. Im liking the range of this thing. Not standing right next to the hot-hot death fire is... a good idea? I asked while trying to sound as innocent as possible. Did I spook him? Yo! I said before pointing to his camera. Hope you dont mind? I was just saying hi to my girl. I didnt see you there, he said. You should be more careful then. Weve got Model Nines, and we met a Model Twenty-One. Mean bastard. Broke some of my cat mechs. I let go of the camera and it buzzed away from me, almost as if the little thing was insulted that Id grabbed it. A Model Twenty-One, here? A baby one, I said. Still nasty though. He shook his head. Thats unexpected. The hive here wasnt very old. It was specialized though, Gomorrah said. A stealth model for a stealth hive. Did you clear everything on the way here? I asked. Cause Player nodded. Every shaft and side-passage, even a few that werent on the map. Found a few little groups of Antithesis, but the biggest challenge was a pair of Model Thirteens that came out of nowhere. Made for a nice boss-fight, I think. Cool, I said. Does that mean were done here? I guess so, Gomorrah said. Whats the fastest way out of here? Dont we need to leave from the same hole we came in? Your cars parked there. Gomorrah shook her head. The Fury can pilot itself to wherever I want. I wouldnt drive it down these shafts, but otherwise, any exit would do. A profitable afternoon, Cause Player said. A few points, some b-roll footage. Ill edit everything later to make it more seamless before posting it. Arent you live right now? I asked. Well, yes, but that doesnt compare to a well edited fight scene and a tighter storyline. The people who watch it live do it because its fun to see the behind the scenes stuff. Huh, I said. Not my cup of whatever. Right, should we get going then? With all that said and done, we finally headed back, retracing Cause Players steps. He spoke with Gomorrah for a bit. Apparently he knew some of the clean-up samurai whod come in later to make damned sure that nothing of the hive was left. I had to wonder how much the hive could regrow from the few bits left over in just one night. The answer was probably too damned much. But, all of that was someone elses problem for now. Myalis, I asked, my voice pitched low. How many points did we manage to make? Current Point Total: 12,471 I tripped over nothing. Holy crap! *** Epilogue Epilogue Epilogue *** I couldnt help the smug grin as Gomorrah drove the Fury around the Black Bear Mining Corporations headquarters, then found a spot to land. There were people in the spot Gomorrah chose. A few soldiers sitting on crates and chatting. At least until they saw the car coming down, and started to drag things out of Gomorrahs way. The jobs not done, Gomorrah said as she pulled on some lever-thing in the middle of the dash with a satisfying clunk. I think that put the car in park or something. I needed to take a bit and learn how to drive one day. This is the boring part, Cause Player said from where he was squeezed in the backseat. He opened the door and contorted his way out. What bit? I asked. Where we ask the corporation some difficult questions about why their maps didnt match up exactly, and where we debrief the army about what to expect, Gomorrah said. I felt my grin fading a little. Can I take the third option? I asked. We also need to do a quick patrol of the town, but I think Cause Players already trying to be the one to do that, Gomorrah added. Cant we just go home and rejoice in our huge winnings? Come on, out of the car, you whiner. I laughed as I stepped out of the Fury then stood up and stretched. The day was turning to evening pretty quickly. I wasnt sure how much time wed spent underground, but I was pretty happy that we werent under there anymore. Open air felt great. Do you want to take care of the army, or the corp? Gomorrah asked. I turned to her in time to see her move to the back of the Fury and pop open the trunk. She practically threw my surviving mecha cat out, then my Whisper and my climbing gear. You okay? I asked. I need to go, she said as she slid into her car. Uh, in a hurry? I guessed while leaning into the passenger side of the Fury. She was already flicking switches on the dash. Yes. This isnt just some way of getting out of doing work, is it? I asked. She looked at me, expressionless mask locked in place and staring at me for a few long seconds. No, Cat, this isnt that. I need to go, somethings come up. I... I dont think I need help, alright? Alright, I said. But if you do need help, Im here, okay? Youve helped me plenty; the least I can do is return the favour. Yeah... thanks. I backed up as Fury lifted off, aimed up, then shot into the sky with enough force that I had to take a step back or be bowled over by all the wind. Something was definitely up. I wanted to get back home, maybe relax with Lucy as a reward for a job well done, but I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that things wouldnt be that simple. Also, shed just left me stranded in Black Bear. Crap, Im actually going to have to work. The End! Stray Cat Strut ?- Book Three - A Young Ladys Hopepunk Safari Stray Cat Strut ?- Book Three - A Young Lady''s Hopepunk Safari (Cover Art Pending... because art takes time!) Cat never expected to meet so many violently optimistic people, but if thats what her corner of the world needs to get better, shes ready to join in on some of the fun.NewW novels updates at novelhall.com Prologue Prologue Prologue I refused to sit in the back, out of principle if nothing else. So, with my legs bunched up, feet digging into the cloth upholstery of the bench, and my arms crossed over my knees, I watched as New Montreal flew by. The soldier next to me kept his mouth shut, eyes focused on the skies as he diligently obeyed every traffic law. That was probably because of the officer on the bench behind us. The lieutenant was in a bad mood; being sat in the back like a kid didnt suit his sensibilities. He wasnt saying anything, but I knew hed shared a glare or two with the driver in the rearview. Maybe it was the large mechanical cat sitting next to him, a helmet carefully held between teeth that could spit plasma. I watched the neon glow of advertisement-covered buildings scroll by, the signs turned into blurry messes by the constant downpour across the windshield that the cars wipers were only just managing to clear out. The rain in New Montreal always left things with a rainbow sheen. And it was always raining. I guess it made it a colourful city, in a way. We crossed over a section of the city that was little more than slums. You could always tell. The ads there were brighter, if only because everything beneath them was so much darker. We drove past those soon enough. The traffic always moved a bit faster above the shittier parts of the city, it seemed. The hotel loomed tall above us some blocks later, and even with the driver keeping to the speed limit, we eventually turned into the large tunnel cutting its way through the entire building. Stop here, I said when it became clear the driver intended to get in line and wait. Ill walk the rest of the way. I think a few of the people in the lobby were in a mood to test my patience, but something about my look dissuaded them. Maybe the new full-face helmet, shaped like the face of a growling cat, was giving them pause. Or maybe it was all the alien blood and sh stuff. I desperately, needed a shower. My cat and I got in the elevator, and then it was up to the top. I was bouncing on the balls of my feet the entire ride. I was getting eager to arrive, to hug Lucy until she squeaked, and to annoy the kittens to make sure they were alright. When the doors dinged open, I rushed over to the penthouses door, then knocked twice before barging in. It was chaos. Two of the kittens were rolling on the floor, screaming. Another was watching the television at a volume that would render most deaf within the week. Catkiller, the dog, was rubbing his ass across the carpet, and Junior was eating cereal with Katerine, both girls eating out of the same bowl with two spoons, a rifle partially disassembled on the table next to them. Cat? Cat! came Lucys cheer a moment before she tried to run into my arms, then tripped over nothing and ended up stumbling into my arms. I sighed, tension bleeding off of me as I let the cat in and then closed the door with a heel. Home at last. The peace wouldnt last, but Id take what I could when I could. *** Chapter One - Bliss Chapter One - Bliss Chapter One - Bliss There are seventeen megacities in North America. Cities so grand, so huge, that theyre impossible to map fully, with populations in the hundreds of millions, and with enough drama and waste produced in them every hour to drown anyone that goes looking for it. Theres not a minute that passes where something terrible, and something just as magical, doesnt happen. Keep your eyes open, or youll miss out on all the fun. --Three Swipes, 2037 *** And then what? Lucy asked. She was tucked into my side, head heavy against my shoulder. I had been enjoying that wonderful sensation of bare skin against bare skin, but then my arm fell asleep and all I could feel were tingles when Lucy played with my fingers. My lips were also tingling, but in an entirely different, far more amusing way. Well, then I triggered the bombs. All of them at once. It was kinda cool. The whole tunnel caught on fire. She shifted a little, head tilting back to stare at me. The tunnel you were in? Well, uh, technically? Did you do any research at all about the explosive you were using? she asked. Because Ive just googled it, and that stuff is supposed to be dangerous. It was. But mostly for the aliens. Lucy huffed. Catherine, she said. She never used my full name like that unless she was on the wrong side of miffed. What? Youre... youre a bit of an idiot. Hey! I said. I couldnt help but chuckle. Im not an idiot. Im, uh, inexperienced. Youre going to blow yourself up, Lucy said as she shifted, turning onto her side and wrapping an arm across my chest so that her face was resting just below mine. You know, I cant use you to satisfy my incredible lusts if youre dead. Ill have to settle for that nun friend of yours, and she looks all prudish. I snorted. Id pay to see that. I think Gomorrah would just faint at the first sight of a bare leg. I dont want you dying, so that means you need to jam some smarts into that thick skull of yours. Like some sort of education program? I asked. I think Myalis has something like that. I was thinking more... school, Lucy said. School. Yes! I told you I want to go to some fancy school, get all educated and all that. That way I can get a fancy job and be rich. She rose up, getting excited by the idea. Her leg dragged up mine and distracted me for a moment. Lucy, were already rich... rich-ish, I said. She... she has a habit of sneaking out of the convent and picking fights with troublesome people. Drug dealers near schools, pimps that try to recruit in the wrong places. She takes the whole fear of God thing into her own hands. Sounds like a great person, I said. Id heard of vigilantes and the like before. They were nearly always vilified by the corps and the news--unless some corp was trying to look hip by siding with the rebels--and what they did varied, but usually beating up the worst sort of people and blowing up the homes of some bureaucrats was to be applauded. Gomorrah shifted on the other side. She left sometime today. Didnt tell any of the sisters where she was going, and Atyacus cant track her. Her augs are offline. I sat up straighter. Oh. Youre going around looking for her? I asked. Thats what I was doing, she said, obviously frustrated. Shes not at any of the places she usually hides in. None of her friends know, at least those I was able to get in contact with. Well, they said they didnt know. I scared one of them into spilling the beans. Whats she doing? Shes attacking a gang, a bunch of idiots that call themselves the Sewer Dragons. Theyre based in the lower levels, usually just a bunch of jumped-up nobodies, but they started kidnapping people around the edges of the incursion zone. I think they took someone Franny knew. Okay, wait. Two things. First, Sewer Dragons? Really? They live in the sewers. Its not as stupid as it sounds. I snorted. Sounds terrifically stupid to me. Okay, second, Franny? Thats her name, Gomorrah confirmed. I had a mental image of a sixty-something woman with a crop and attitude. I shook my head and got up, then started looking for some clothes. So you need my help? I can find her, she said with conviction. I just dont know if I can find her before she gets herself killed. And Im tired; Ive been at it ever since Black Bear. Hey, hey, its alright, I said. Im on my way, okay? Well find your... whatever she is to you, and then you can scold her or whatever it is you nuns do behind closed doors. Quick in and out, it wont take more than twenty minutes. Thank you. Ill have Atyacus send Myalis my geo-location. Text me if you get lost. Its a mess down here. Alright. The line went dead, and I sighed as I bent over double, picked my pants off the floor, then tossed them to the side. They were nasty. Heading out already? Lucy asked. Yeah. Gomorrahs... Franny, whoever that is, is in trouble, and she needs help saving her. I... sorry? Lucy rolled around on the bed until she was facing me. She also pulled some covers around, turning herself into a cocoon with just her head poking out. Dont be sorry. Im not some bitch thatll whine when her girlfriend needs to go save the world again. Not the world, just some girl. Oh, in that case, Im going to bitch endlessly, she said. Alright, now help me find something to wear. Were buying clothes?! Lucy asked. She was suddenly out of bed. Myalis! Were buying shit, come on! Oh, for fucks sake, I muttered, then I laughed as Lucy grabbed onto me and we both went crashing back onto the bed. It was going to be hard getting to Gomorrah in anything like a hurry. *** Chapter Two - Because being a BAMF is Easier in Power Armour Chapter Two - Because being a BAMF is Easier in Power Armour Chapter Two - Because being a BAMF is Easier in Power Armour Spacesuits evolved surprisingly slowly after their inception. For a long time, the same suits that were designed for the Apollo missions were being used by astronauts onboard humanitys fledgling space stations. It wasnt until interest in space travel--and more importantly space defence--grew, that the spacesuits started to evolve and change quite rapidly. As with many other technologies originally developed for space exploration, this eventually meant that people on Earth had access to new technologies.Fi?ndd new updates at novelhall.com Of course, some military asshole had to weaponize our power armour! --A Rant About Space Tech, WriteIt forums, 2026 *** Alright, I said. We need a bunch of things for the new place, once we move over. And a bit of cash wouldnt hurt to pay for, like, contractors and such. Also, I do want to get to Gomorrah sooner than later. Lucy nodded. And none of those excuses will work to stop me from shopping, she said. I sighed. Damn. Fine. Myalis, want to get one of the Dumbasses over? We could probably use the projector. Certainly. One of them is on the way. You might want to open the door though. I bounced off the bed and opened the door a crack, then shut it when one of my little drones scuttled in on all fours and installed itself in the middle of the room. Alright, Im going to put my armour on, I said. Your armour wasnt enough, Lucy said. What? It was plenty! I protested as I bent down and picked up the belt and neck pieces of my under armour. As soon as they were on the armour itself started to melt onto me, connecting itself together and hardening over my important bits. Cat, your back has a bunch of blue splotches on it, and your arms, and your legs. I shrugged. I got tossed around a bit. The armour did a lot to help. Your Mark IV TIGER-B armour did prevent you from dying. Some of the impacts you sustained would have been lethal otherwise. Not to mention its ability to protect your skin from all the acids in the air. See, I said. You didnt mention acids in the air! Lucy said. I, uh, forgot? Maybe that explained why my pants had melted a bit. They were just normal cargo pants. Lucy rolled her eyes. Proper armour, she said. Like your new helmet. She pointed to where my new helmet was sitting on the floor. It was a nice piece, shaped like a cybernetic tiger of sorts, teeth barred and eyes set in a frown. I didnt know what it was made of, but it was tough, air-tight, had its own air purification thing going on, and a bottle of oxygen for when things got rough. I... guess? I tried. I was well aware of time ticking on. Okay, um, Gomorrah had this thing with modular armour. It was actually kind of cool. Then get something like that, Lucy said. I nodded. Right, right. And when you come back, we can shop some more, for other things that you need. Your new arm is a first-tier one from your Sunwatcher Catalogue, and you have the second tier unlocked there. You could get something way better. How do you know that? I asked. Myalis is a gossip. She texts a lot. Indeed! The full set costs nine hundred points. I winced. Thats not much if it means you get to live, Lucy said. Yeah, I guess, I said. Anything better out there, Myalis? Plainly put, yes, but the price would either be significantly higher, would require better tiers than you currently have, or would need different compromises. Larger armour would be safer, but would limit your mobility and increase your mass. What kind of upgrades can it take? I asked. I would suggest back-mounted weapons, seeing as how you enjoy those. The armour in the image spun and the ribs and chest unfolded. There is room for multiple smaller systems. A nanite self-repair system, injectors for adrenals and an exterior healing system, maintenance subsystems, communication suites, more weapons... Nice, I said. Okay, get it. Wonderful! That was fun! Lucy cheered. I was afraid Id need to toss a ball of yarn down while Myalis and I talked about things. Hey! New Purchase: The Lions Mane, Mark XII Points Reduced from... 12,371 to... 11,471! The armour appeared standing in the centre of the room, arms crossed and shoulders set. If it didnt lack a head, I might have thought someone was there. It had a tail behind it, because of course it did, but otherwise it was pretty un-catlike for something Myalis suggested. Though there was the word STRAY stenciled on one pauldron and CAT on the other. I walked over to it, then blinked. My nose came up to its shoulder. Sure, I wasnt wearing shoes, but still. Tall, I said. The armour unfolded, plates shifting aside then opening up to reveal an interior that would have a claustrophobe sweating. Okay then, I said as I gingerly stepped in. It was only when I was awkwardly pressing myself into it that the armour closed up around me. My augs tingled, then I felt as if I was dunked into cold water for a moment. I gasped. Are you okay? Lucy asked. Oh, yeah, just... I snapped the fingers on the glove of my left hand, and felt it. Oh, thats messed up. Theres some tactile thing going on. Really? Lucy asked. She got up, tugging a blanket around herself, then reached out a hand and grabbed the armour by the breast. She squeezed. Did you feel that? I felt my cheeks warming just a bit. Uh, yeah. Sensation levels can be tweaked. It shouldnt allow you to feel pain, but it is sensitive enough to feel changes in temperature. What about pleasure? Lucy asked. That... that isnt part of the original package, but there may be modules for that sort of thing, Myalis admitted. The AI sounded reluctant there. Okay, so... put a pin on that one, I said. Weapons, real fast, then Gomorrah. I dont want to be late, alright? Sure thing! Lucy said. We can explore all the options later. *** Chapter Three - Taxi Chapter Three - Taxi Chapter Three - Taxi The closer you are to ground level, the poorer youre likely to be. It''s the way it is, you know? Shits dragged down, and down here is where it stops. --Quote from a vagrant, Chicago Megacity Complex Four, 2039 *** Guns! I cheered. Guns! Lucy cheered right back. The ability for humans to be amused by anything that can make a projectile move fast is fascinating, Myalis said.e on, dont tell me youre not keen on weapons and the like, not with the amount you have available. Oh no, dont misunderstand. The Protectors are also keenly interested in weaponry in all its forms, but more from the viewpoint of someone who wishes to have the most effective tool at their disposal at any given time. That just sounds like an excuse to compare cannon sizes to me, I said. Speaking of; modular guns, what do you have? There are two slots on the back of your armour, over your shoulder blades. They are relatively small. I shifted my shoulders around, the armour moving languidly along with the motion.No satisfying servo sounds either, which kinda sucked, but made sense if the suit was supposed to be stealthy. I need something with a bit more kick than my last shoulder-mounted guns. The railgun was alright, but the plasma casters were too bright, and they didnt have enough oomph to them. Ah yes, more oomph, Myalis agreed. You seemed to enjoy the railgun. Perhaps two smaller rails, designed to fire silent rounds. The overall rate of fire would be lower, but each shot should mean a dead opponent as long as youre not fighting Antithesis that are too armoured. Railguns use ammo, right? Lucy asked. Maybe we can use the fabricator to make you some! Save some points for later. I nodded. Genius. Yeah, two railguns then. I liked the last one, it made things dead in a way that I liked. Might I suggest a railgun catalogue then? Your options are otherwise limited. I nodded. A cheaper catalogue, maybe? I think this should do! Class I Subsonic Rail Weaponry Points reduced to... 11,401! And two railguns. New Purchase: Class I Stealthed Micro Rail Launcher (two units) Points Reduced from... 11,401 to... 11,301! That wasnt expensive, I said as two boxes appeared. I opened them to reveal... a mess of rods and pipes and little servos, all next to a sharp-looking gun painted a deep black. The elevator door dinged open, and I stepped in before jabbing the button for the lobby. Once I was on the ground floor, I switched on the muffling on my mask. Didnt need anyone to hear me speaking. So, wheres Gomorrah and how are we getting there? Shes in the eastern side of the city. Unfortunately, none of the automated taxi services will drive someone there, and taking the public transportation services would both take a long time, and be a needless risk. The subways not that bad, I said. The infrastructure hasnt been properly maintained since before your birth, and the amount of gun violence in the underground is so high that you are as likely to be shot while taking the night train as you are to be hit by friendly fire in an active incursion. So, how do we get there? I asked before stifling a bit of a yawn. Maybe I needed a bit of sleep. Maybe I should have gone to sleep when I got home instead of messing with Lucy. A non-automated taxi. One is waiting for you outside. I nodded along as I moved across the lobby, then through one of the revolving doors onto the parking tarmac. A car lit up in my vision, highlighted in pink until I started making my way to it. It was not an impressive ride. Some car from the early 30s, with a dented fender and one light that flickered intermittently. Yes, that is the best they had. Im going to need to look into getting my own ride one of these days, I muttered. Ill add it to the list. You do have a somewhat significant number of points remaining. Might not have an incursion for a while, and besides, I want to spend a lot of those on the security of the museum-slash-orphanage. I moved around the cab, peeked through the window and waved at the driver who currently had a finger in his nose up to the knuckle. I pulled the passenger side door open and sat down carefully. I just barely fit. The driver stared out the side, past me, and looked both confused and a bit scared. I felt like an idiot a moment later, and flicked off my invisibility. Hey. Oh, he squeaked. Hey, dont worry, I said. Just looking for a ride over to, uh... this address. I pointed to the computer jammed into the cars dash and held in place by what looked like a strip of tape. Myalis caught on and the screen flickered before showing a new address. Ah, right, yes. The client is supposed to sit at the back? I looked behind. The seat had a fist-sized hole in it, and what looked like cigarette burns all over the pleather. This chair looks more comfortable. And you dont need to be afraid or anything, I really do just need a ride. That place isnt very safe, he said with a gesture to the cars computer. I mean, no offense, but your setup here doesnt look like its made to carry VIPs from one mansion to the other. The driver squirmed. You will have to leave fast. We land, you leave, I go. And I want payment upfront. I felt my eyebrows rising. Alright, but only if you tell me about the area on the way over. Im not from the nicest part of this city, but even our neighbourhood wouldnt warrant that kind of response. Yes, fine, he said. And then he slammed his foot on the gas, and we chugged along at a perfectly reasonable speed while making an unreasonable amount of noise. Chapter Four - Below the City Chapter Four - Below the City Chapter Four - Below the City Hex-platforming is a technique that became popular in the late 20s. It involves creating a set of six large pillars to hold up the corners of a hex. The hexs size varies, but its usually between 100 and 200 metres from point to point. Buildings are built above these, and the gap between the hex platforms and the ground allow for plenty of space where infrastructure can be laid out. Sewers, electrical grids, any kind of interconnecting system. If a city is attacked and a building collapses above, the hexs pillars are designed to blow out, forcing that entire section to collapse beneath the main section of the city. It almost guarantees that anyone there will die, but it also means that the destruction is contained. This was wonderful on paper. By the mid 30s, everyone realized it was a disaster in actuality. But by then, it was too late. Half of all new cities were hex-platformed, and its not something that one can just stop halfway. Now new cities are built to sprawl out more, and have extensive above-ground piping and networking. Its not much better. At least in a hex city, the superpoor are entirely out of sight. --The Hex, by Professor of Engineering Duskland, 2041 *** The taxi dove down, and down, and then even lower down, slowing all the while as the driver went from just a little nervous to an outright wreck, hunched over the wheel and with his eyes roving all over to look for danger. I didnt blame him. The orphanage where Id done a lot of my growing up had been on the ground level, near the outskirts of the city. Ground level was, generally, bad news. Its where all the people who fell from above ended up. A lot of the chemicals in the air were heavy, and they tended to seep down too. No one wanted to live so low, so those that did have to live there werent often there by choice. They were the slums, built in and around the pillars holding up the massive towers that hid the sun from view. Right now, we were below that. The city had been an island, once, but that was decades ago. Someone had terraformed it, built a new ground onto which to build the rest of the city. Everything under that wasnt fit for living in; it was all pipes and earthquake absorption shocks and pillars dug deep into the earth to hold the weight of everything above. When we started to dive, wed been in a nicer area. Gomorrah didnt seem like a slum-raised kind of girl. Now, about thirty floors below that, we were in hell. Horizontal smokestacks were spewing some vapours onto the road, the clouds of smoke being torn apart as cars which didnt look street legal raced past. Bigger trucks were moving by, some taking the ramps leading up to the ground level. Most of those were being escorted by little drones. Its a bit above this, the driver said. He gestured up to a hole in the ceiling above that cut through the ground level, but never reached the sky. The interior of a hollow skyscraper? I paused at the voice; not at the pitchit wasnt the best Id heardbut at the age of it. Turning a little at the next intersection, I found a little girl on a plastic crate, with what looked like a video game console over her head. Look! A console, Playstation Nine! Still functioning, three generations old! We can even hook you up with some DRM-cracked games! She had... trash behind her. That was the word for it. Knick-knacks and broken toys and some exercise equipment. All of it a bit grimy, all of it obviously broken. A dumpster diver then. Id seen their sort before. Hell, Id jumped into a few myself when I saw someone tossing something good away. They had their own little territories and rules. Where to dive, what to pick up, which places to avoid. I moved on. Felt bad for the kid, but there was only so much I could do. It didnt look like she was hawking to the greatest customers either. It struck me just how few people there were around. Is there anything about why this place is so empty? I asked Myalis. Nothing on any news site. Homeless migration trackers show a three-hundred percent increase in mortality rates over the last week. Holy crap, what... oh, the incursion? Thats likely. The Antithesis would travel further underground, though they usually prefer more access to sunlight. Most paramilitaries wouldnt stop them. Damn, I said. Are there any left? Its likely. The Antithesis are difficult to root out. Though any large break-outs within the city would be noticed and purged. There are some Vanguard whose entire duty is to sit above a recent incursion site and wait for more Antithesis to appear. Made sense to me. I continued along, up another staircase that I didnt trust, then past a large set of double doors with the words Irregular Welding Co. next to them. The interior was a poorly lit mess of girders and catwalks. There were supposed to be huge machines here, at least I assumed as much from the markings on the ground, but they were all long gone. The hum from the neon lights above fought with a clunking air vent to be the more annoying sound filling the room. It didnt take much to find Gomorrah. She was walking away from a group that was huddled next to a tarp lean-to, her steps conveying just how frustrated she was. Oh great, she looks like shes in a good mood, I muttered as I started after her. Time to see what was up with my closest samurai friend. *** Chapter Five - Rac Chapter Five - Rac Chapter Five - Rac Hello. Im Jeff Personen, and Im the director of the CPS. Child Protective Services. I was made director because of my ability to turn any organization once run by the government into one that can bring in a steady profit. With the CPS, I did this by hiring ex-military, psychologists, and lawyers, and using them to extend the reach of both what the CPS does, and how it acts. Now, for a small fee, a parent can protect their child from just about anything: psychological issues, legal issues, and even the other parent! --Jeff Personen, Director of the CPS, in a 2029 interview. *** Uh, heya! Gomorrah stopped mid-stomp and whipped around to stare at me, her expressionless mask not conveying any emotion, but her stance did a lot of the work. Cat? You took your time in getting here. Here isnt exactly the most accessible place, I said. The auto-taxis wont even come here, you know? Plus I was buying new gear. Nice armour, she said. Im thinking of getting an upgrade too... but thats besides the point. Im glad you decided to show up. Wow, youre extra passive aggressive this, uh, morning.NewW novels updates at novelhall.com She shook her head. I havent slept. Im running off of adrenaline and two energy drinks. Ive still got the shakes from them. Alright, I said. So youre looking for Franny. Im assuming no luck so far? Gomorrah sighed, then looked around us for a bit. The ex-factory floor was still as empty as it had been when I arrived, but that did leave some prying eyes. Come with me; we shouldnt talk out in the open. I followed the nun as she moved to an exit, then slipped outside. The air was as foggy and cancerous as it had been moments ago. Whats the situation so far? Right, Gomorrah said as she grabbed onto a nearby set of rails. I arrived at the convent because Sister Darlene called and said that some friends of Franny were worried about her. I figured Id find her with some bruised knuckles and maybe a black eye again. Again? She takes the saving the lambs things a little more literally than most, Gomorrah said. Shes a good person, just a bit zealous. I figured zealous was a pro in your line of work, I said. Usually, Gomorrah agreed. Franny is a bit more violent than I think the average nun should be. I paused, then pointed at her. Dont you frequently set things on fire? Living things? Thats besides the point. I asked around, and she was here for a little bit. Usually she stays above-ground when shes going after some pimp or whatever. Its not like her to go down this deep. This isnt the safest place around. Who was she going after? You mentioned something about Sewer Dragons? Thats what one of Frannys friends said, but no one else will tell me anything about them. Theres barely anything on the net except a few mentions and those dont tell me much. Right, so you lost her, I said. Gomorrah turned to protest, but I cut in first. No idea where she is, no idea where shes heading. And neither of us know much about this area. Im poor... was poor, but not this poor. I gestured to the wide open space around us. So... lets get help. So, youre looking for that redhead? Cause I havent seen her. But for a few credits, I could show you to someone who might have, Raccoon offered. I laughed. I think I can spare a credit or two. What about the Sewer Dragons? Know anything about them? Raccoons expression shifted, instantly turning guarded. I dont know anything about them, she said. That was a fast reply, I said. Leaning forwards, I put my elbows on her counter and tilted my head to the side. Come on. Our friend Frannys in trouble with them; we mean to help her a bit. Help her while wearing that? Raccoon asked. You look like... you look like a samurai. Do I? I asked. I guess the armour finally tipped things in my favour there. Nice. Youve got to know something. The girl looked left and right, checking for anyone watching us, but the few people Id noticed were walking fast, and rarely our way. We probably looked like we were doing a shakedown. A thousand no, ten thousand credits. Enough credits to buy food for a week for a single person. Not exactly asking for much. Okay, I said. Myalis, can you do the transfer? Done. Raccoon blinked. Her eyes wandered around, obviously looking over things in her augs. Oh, shit, uh, right. What... what do you want to know? she asked. Everything you know? Mostly where they hang out. Yeah, thats easy. In the sewers. Its in the name. Yeah, okay, I said. But which ones? Catherine, the money we just deposited was moved. Not all of it, but nearly eighty percent was removed from the account it was placed in. It wasnt done by Raccoon, so I found the transaction curious. Huh, I said. Hey, Rac, who just took your cash? Raccoon blinked, then frowned a little, her lips puckering up in a pout. Thats... thats the Underground Kings. Its the local tax. Local tax, huh, I said. That wasnt uncommon. The orphanage had been hit once or twice for protection money, but we barely made enough to keep everyone fed, and we didnt have anything worth stealing. That, and stealing from literal orphans was a bad look. Most gangs at least tried to make themselves look a bit noble. Think these Underground Kings might know a thing or two about the Sewer Dragons? Yeah, I mean, theyve been fighting a lot lately. Last couple of days, the Sewer Dragons have been a lot more active. Taking folk off the streets and all. What for? I asked. The girl shrugged. Parts. I looked back to Gomorrah. She seemed as unimpressed as I felt. Tell you what, Rac, there has to be some place these Kings gather, right? How about you lead us there, and Ill give you another lump of cash. Im pretty sure I can make it so they cant touch it. Raccoon considered it for a bit, then she nodded. Yeah, alright. Let me close up shop. I gave Gomorrah a thumbs-up. One step closer to getting to the bottom of things. *** Chapter Six - Queen Takes Pawn Chapter Six - Queen Takes Pawn Chapter Six - Queen Takes Pawn Name: George Orbad Alias: King, The King of the Kings Wanted for the minor crimes of: Racketeering, Assault, Smuggling of Contraband, Homicide. Wanted for the major crimes of: Corporate Defamation, Pirating of Private Data, Corporate Espionage. Suspect is presumed armed and dangerous. Reward: 1,750,000Cr --King of Kings bounty posting, 2057 *** The Underground Kings had their hideout in the same ring of buildings as we were in. The factory they occupied was an old cotton-candy machine factory, of all things. Some of the signs on the outside were still bright and cheerful under the layer of grime that covered everything. Of course, theyd covered it all with graffiti, mostly crude images of men with crowns on, sometimes just crowns, sometimes giant dicks with crowns on them. Very imaginative stuff. Some of the best bathroom-stall type art Id ever seen. Raccoon, our guide, paused on one of the catwalks about a hundred metres away from the factory. Thats it, she said. The Kings King stays there sometimes. Sometimes? Gomorrah asked. He doesnt live here, Raccoon said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. No one that makes a bunch of credits stays underground. Makes sense, I said. Other than robbing little girls, do these idiots do anything special? Raccoon shrugged. They make drugs to sell to the people above. Its called syrup. You can smell it when they make it. Its nice. Syrup? I asked. Id heard of that. It was a sort of goopy liquid, golden and clear, and apparently really sweet. It was actually a bit of a classier street drug, the sort middle-class guys would buy for a party or something. I didnt think theyd make that shit here. They have to make everything somewhere, Gomorrah said. I imagine real estate down here isnt too pricey. I shrugged. Didnt matter to me. I didnt come down here to rid the world of some party drugs. Maybe the stink down here is the special ingredient, I muttered. Raccoon giggled. So, thats it. You guys are going to go ask them for stuff? Just going to ask them about Gomorrahs girlfriend. Franny isnt my girlfriend, Gomorrah said, voice flatter than usual. We were met just inside by a big guy in a ratty suit, a tube tucked under his jacket where it ran down from his breathing mask. He had a little rook pin on his shoulder. We were climbing up the ranks, it seemed. You two, follow me, he said. I glanced at Gomorrah, but she didnt seem to have anything to say about how polite our hosts were being. We didnt go very deep into the factory. The entrance was a grimy place, with a locker room filled with hazmat suits and masks to one side, and what looked like an office on the other side. We were led past those and into a lounge where a wide window overlooked the hole leading to the ground below, with the occasional flash of light as a car hovered through the maze of catwalks. Two people were waiting for us. Well, two people and a few guards that faded into the background. One was wearing a black suit, the other a white one. Actual nice suits too, the sort Id expect to see in an ad for some insurance agency or something. The small rebreather masks they wore didnt quite fit, but safety first and all that. Greetings, dear samurai, the guy in the white said. Its not every day that we receive such distinguished guests, so please pardon our lack of preparedness. Uh, yo, I said. Its fine. Are you the people in charge here? No, no, the black-suited one said. We are merely the King of the Kings right- and left-hand men. Im Bishop Black, and thats Bishop White. They were both pastier than anything, but I chose not to insult our new info-broker buddies. Alright, cool. Were not actually here for anything related to the Kings. Were looking for someone. I sent them the image of Franny again. And maybe were looking for some information about this gang called the Sewer Dragons. Im certain we can assist, Bishop Black said. I saw him blinking as he took in the image I sent him. I think we know about this girl. What do you know? Gomorrah said. Oh, this and that. Id need to pull things up. It might take a little while. We dont store things digitally, for obvious reasons, he said. Its time-consuming and expensive, but worth it. Uh-huh, I said. Got a price? Everything does! White Bishop joined in. We will make sure to provide you with a discount, of course, on account of the good work you samurai put in to improve our lives. I snorted, and was about to ask him something else when Myalis interrupted. Catherine. I thought you might wish to know this. The girl, Raccoon, is currently being physically assaulted just outside the factory. It took me a second to register that, then I was out of the room and walking back out. Gomorrah kept up with me, and so did the two Bishops and some of their guards. I arrived outside to see Pawn G kicking at a familiar bundle of cloth on the ground. For just a moment I saw red. Then reason caught up with me and I realized I had a perfect solution. I tugged out my Trench Maker and shot the Pawn in the back. Then I shot the other, who was laughing, for good measure. What are you doing? Bishop White yelled. I slammed my gun back into its holster and stomped over to Raccoon. Gomorrah, can you keep an eye on them for a minute? I asked. I had more important things to take care of. *** Chapter Seven - Knocking Over the Board Chapter Seven - Knocking Over the Board Chapter Seven - Knocking Over the Board Information is a wonderful currency. Extracting data from customers is how modern media make a profit. The information of some people is worth more than others, of course. The algorithm rates people on a scale from utterly insignificant to paramount importance. Data about paramounts can be worth hundreds of thousands of credits. The submission process is simple, and payments are sent electronically within 90 days of that information being validated. --Infosecs Submission Page, 2041 *** Gomorrahs habit shifted as two flamethrowers unfolded over her shoulders; they burped and two little licks of flame, no longer than an inch or so, burned merrily at the end of their soot-blackened barrels. Dont move for a moment, please, Gomorrah asked politely. I nodded and knelt next to Raccoon, reaching out to move her, just a little. I wasnt keen on medical stuff, but I knew that someone shouldnt be moved if they were injured. At least, thats what the ads for some of the medical services said. Sit tight, wait for the ambulance to arrive, and have a credit card at hand. Didnt think Id be needing that just yet. Not that any service with common sense would come all the way down here to help with anything. Hey, are you okay? I asked the girl. Her mask had slipped off, and she was breathing hard. I gingerly moved some hair away from her face, then winced at the gash across her nose. One of the corpses had kicked her nose in before I introduced new holes in his skull. The way she cradled her chest worried me more. She was hugging herself, but her hands shook and her breathing was rough, little gasps that I recognized as someone trying to catch their breath while their lungs refused to work. Myalis, we need something for this. The damage seems fairly extensive. A Class I Nano-Regenerative Suite would be the minimum required to prevent further damage. Forget further damage, I said. How can we get her back to full health? Hurry, she looks rough. A Class II Nano-Regenerative Suite would repair most of the damage. Otherwise, you need a surgical suite. She has broken ribs, not to mention several failing organs. Those seem more like environmental issues than anything caused by her assault. I cursed. Get that second class in Medical. I have a few tokens to spare, right? Gimme something good, Myalis. As you wish. Class II Medical Utilities Unlocked! Points Reduced to... 11,001 That cost a single token. You have three remaining. Didnt I just have three left? You gained one in Black Bear. New Purchase: Class II Nano-Regenerative Suite Points Reduced from... 11,001 to... 10,901! No, I wanted to... you know, hold him over the edge and question him, I said. Uh, I should have used my cybernetic arm; my other ones just not as strong. Could have grabbed him by the throat instead too. You, you killed White! Black Bishop said. My bad, I said. I stepped up to Black and grabbed him by the tie before he could run away. Dont worry, Ill use the right arm this time. No! No, no! No need for that, Ill talk, Ill talk! I held onto Blacks tie for a bit. I... felt a bit bad about White. Sure, he worked with people that beat up kids, but maybe he didnt deserve to be dropped to death for that. It was a genuine mistake. The two guards didnt even rattle my remorse. They were acting beyond the pale. Okay, I said as I lowered Black. Im not going to kill you. Glancing past Black, I looked at his guards, the dudes with rooks stitched on their suits. They had guns in hand, but seemed really reluctant to start shooting. I was pretty sure at least one had run away already. I refocused on Black. I do need you to talk, though. The Bishop nodded up and down in a hurry. Right. Franny, the redhead, where is she? Sublevel two! Theres a bar called the Halfstar. Shes there right now. Was asking questions to one of our knights. Oh, what sort? I asked. About the Sewer Dragons, he said. Well, well, theyre the ones I was going to ask you about next. Im calling the bar, Gomorrah said. I bet I can convince the owner to hand a phone to Franny. I nodded, then let go of Black Bishop. Sewer Dragons: what can you tell me? How much do you know? he asked. I tilted my head to the side a little. They like sewers and dragons. Black Bishop shuffled, hands twining together with none of the easy confidence hed had ten minutes ago. The Sewer Dragons live in the sewer systems across the entire city. The systems are a maze. Theyre impossible to navigate and the air is poisonous. But the Dragons live there with specialized augs. They work for the city, cleaning out the sewers. None of the corps will go after them; its too dangerous. Alright, I said. Whos their boss? What are they up to? We dont know! They dont act like a normal gang, and we dont know what theyre planning. Theyve always been a place for outcasts to hide, but lately theyve been heading out and kidnapping people. That sounds pretty normal for a gang, I said. No, no, a lot of people. Entire blocks. Oh, I said. Well then, maybe we knew why Gomorrahs friend was looking into them. *** Chapter Eight - The Bar At The Bottom of The City Chapter Eight - The Bar At The Bottom of The City Chapter Eight - The Bar At The Bottom of The City You want seedy? You want a grimy pisshole where the beer is definitely watered down, and the inspectors have literally never reached the place? You want to see homeless idiots beating on each other for a syringe full of nostalgia? Want some ass? Then come to the Halfstar. The names our rating. Youll regret it in the best way. --Ad for the Halfstar Bar, 2037 *** I watched Black Bishop stumble towards his buddies, then the lot of them scampered back into the factory as if they were mice whod just spotted a hungry tiger. It was kind of amusing. Probably not in a healthy way, but Id never really stopped myself from doing something just because it was terribly unhealthy before. So, the Halfstar. Sub-level two, Gomorrah said. The bartender agreed to keep Franny busy, but we dont have forever. Franny wont like being held back. Alright, I said. I turned and moved past my favourite nun and knelt next to Raccoon. The girl had pushed herself back and was sitting up against the rusty rails of the catwalk. She looked a bit better. Her skin was healing well, the discolouration around her ribs and face fading already. You okay? I asked. Youre a samurai, she said. Yeah. Are you alright? I asked. The girls head bobbed up and down so fast her ponytail bounced. Im fine, she said. I feel... uh, actually kind of good. Thats great, I said, smiling even if she couldnt see it. There was something in the voice when someone smiled that made it obvious, regardless of whether their mouth was visible or not. Let me just check on this, okay? I tapped the machines still connected to her, and she nodded. The Regenerative Suite has run out of nano slush, but thats expected. The current read-outs from her body indicate that most of the bruising has faded, and her bones have been reset. The medical suite is doing what it can to repair the more long-term damage to her musculature, organs and skeleton. They will continue operating until they run out of power. When will that happen? I asked. That would depend on the task. Within forty-eight hours, the last of the nanomachines will have run out of power. I nodded, then gestured to the tubes poking into Racs skin. Can I? Retracting. Raccoon gasped as the tube around her arm and leg popped, then reeled back into the box by her side with a zip. Whoa. You should be right as rain, I said as I stood back up and extended a hand. Before Franny gets some idea and runs off, Gomorrah said. The doors closed while I was still trying to get comfortable in the passenger seat. It wasnt designed for someone in armour, though the seat was moving and expanding and basically doing its best to accommodate. Gomorrah spun up around and we shot out, only narrowly avoiding a few girders as Gomorrah juked us out of the way. Franny wont stay put for long; shes too... active for that kind of thing. We dove out of the doughnut that housed all of those factories, and Gomorrah shot across a few lanes of automated traffic, then up and out of a large opening in the metal sky above. We were back out and in the open, the sky no longer an oppressive ceiling. Well, if one didnt consider the smog oppressive. Rain battered at the windshield and was wicked off almost in the same moment as Gomorrah swept up around and back into a building. The tunnel we flew through had a few other cars darting through it, but Gomorrah seemed content to dodge those at the last minute while poking at the screen in the middle of her console. Fast, fast! Rac cheered from behind. Um, I said. Here, Gomorrah said just before turning the Fury around so that its bottom was facing where we were going. It slowed us down just in time for Gomorrah to drive us into what looked like a maintenance alley. At the end of it was an open area, with a tall ceiling and a parking space with a few boxy maintenance vehicles collecting dust. The bar is around here? I asked. We were definitely still above ground. No, theres access to the elevator banks going down from here. We could have walked from where we were, but this is faster, Gomorrah said. At least, according to Atyacus. Gomorrah set the Fury down and put it in park, then she stepped out. Raccoon and I followed a moment later, though the girl had to figure out the handle for a moment. As soon as she was out, she glanced around, then nodded. Youre trying to get to the Halfstar? Yep, I said. Then you dont want to take the big elevator. Theres this other one, a service elevator that goes up the spine of one of the scrapers here. Its not for the public, but the keypad code is 1234 and people from above use that to get to the bar. Ive used it to go trash hunting before. I raised an eyebrow, moderately impressed. People go there often? I asked. Its a popular place, I guess, she said. Big. They have fights and sometimes rich people come to bet on them. Well then, I said. Lead the way. Raccoon nodded and zipped ahead of us. You sure bringing her along is wise? Gomorrah asked, her voice transmitted directly to my augs. I replied after flicking on a few options with my mask. No, but its better than leaving anyone down there, isnt it? I cant save everyone, but Ill save those I can, you know? Hmm, Gomorrah replied. You might do well in a convent after all. I laughed and walked a bit faster to keep up. *** Chapter Nine - Halfstar Chapter Nine - Halfstar Chapter Nine - Halfstar Logistics are life. Without them, you have no food, no water, no ammo, no materials. Youre basically stuck with what you have on you. Its why in times of crisis, one of the most important things is setting up a proper logistics train. That gets complicated when the train needs to reach the undercity. The terrain is treacherous, the paths down are maze-like, and if cargo is unguarded, its liable to never make it to its destination. One popular trick is to just figure out where the destination is, then plow a hole through the building above it. Its a bit unsubtle, but its better than being shanked by a hobo. --Sgt. Aaron Fenzer - The True American Armys Logistics Division, 2048 *** The maintenance elevator might have been faster, but it was also cramped, jittery, and felt like a place where someone could easily die. Oh, wow, I said after we hit a particularly jarring bump. I had Myalis pull up the records, and this elevator was last inspected in 2045. I was like, three years old then, Raccoon said. I nodded. Next time, I think we can use the non-shortcut. Were in something of a hurry, Gomorrah said. She was off to one side, hand wrapped around one of the metal poles reaching up to the ceiling. The elevator didnt have completed walls. Instead it was lined by a cage on four sides that ended at about hip-height. It meant that we got to see the bare structure of the building as we slid down. Cracked concrete, exposed rebar, and the occasional open vent where glowing eyes watched us pass. The elevator jerked to a stop, and the cage slid most of the way open just as the door squealed apart. This is it, Raccoon said as she squeezed out ahead and stepped into a dingy corridor. It was all graffiti-covered drywall, with the occasional hole punched into it. Lights hung from the ceilings, some of them working enough that they illuminated the boxes here and there where the homeless lived. Had livednone of those I saw had anyone in them. The Halfstar is one level down, Raccoon said. Alright, lead on. Gomorrah and I walked side-by-side behind Rac, the girl bouncing ahead with near-manic energy. Has anything changed in this area recently? Gomorrah asked. Yeah, there were aliens. Aliens? I asked. But there was a line leading in, and a bouncer by the front with a half-mask and two cybernetic arms that looked like they belonged to a factory worker. We skipped the line. Hey, I say to the bouncer. Can pretty girls come in free? He eyed me, then Gomorrah, then Raccoon. No, he said. Can pretty girls with very big guns come in free? I asked next. Gomorrah sighed. Were Samurai, here to speak with... someone within. Please let us in. He looked at Gomorrah, then stepped to the side. Right, of course. Go on in. Thank you, sir, she replied. Sir? I repeated. Being polite can help things. And its just common courtesy, something that I know youre unfamiliar with. I can be polite if I feel like it, I said. Ive just never felt like it. The Halfstars entrance was a dark place, filled with gauzy curtains of light-absorbing material that made it hard to guess how big things were. They might have done something to dampen down the sound, because as we moved in, the noise grew louder and louder. I adjusted my cat-ears down a notch or two. Super hearing was great when it wasnt pounding noise into your skull. And then we were in the bar proper. It was obvious that the place had been something else at one point. Walls were torn out, and the floor cut open. A second level below had chairs around a ring that someone could easily jump into from above. There werent even rails around it on the top floor. No fights on at the moment, but the place was still lively. The dance floor was occupied by two dozen bodies, rubbing and gyrating against each other, and the DJ, some guy in a sweat-stained shirt waving his arms around. There, Gomorrah said. She was pointing across the room to where a nun was facing off against an obese man jabbing a finger towards her face. Thats Franny, she said. Franny looked pissed. Sure, she was as pretty as she was in the pictures Gomorrah had shared, but that beauty was twisted a bit as she sneered at the man blocking her path. Still hot though. Well then, lets go say hi to your girlfriend, I said. *** Chapter Ten - Tensions Chapter Ten - Tensions Chapter Ten - Tensions Never let anyone tell you youre not valuable! You have organs after all! At Organ-dos, we turn some of that value into cold hard credits. Its as easy as stepping into one of our insured Organ-do booths, and leaving a few minutes later with a pocket full of spending money!* *Organ sales are non-refundable -Organ-do ad, 2051 *** Franny was a little different in person. A couple of years older than in the picture Gomorrah had shown me, and she wasnt quite as clean. Not that she was dirty or anything, but her clothes had a few dusty stains on them, and she was obviously not wearing any makeup. She looked past the fat man blocking her path, just a glance, but one that turned into an outright stare as Gomorrah stepped up... then paused. I slowed to a stop behind Gomorrah. There was still a half-dozen metres between her and Franny, and yet she seemed reluctant to move. Whats going on? Raccoon asked when the moment started to stretch. Your guess is as good as mine, I muttered back to her. Franny, Gomorrah said. The fat man turned, his frown disappearing in an instant when he locked eyes on Gomorrah. Ah, Miss Samurai, youre here at last. As you can see, I kept the girl here. I did as you asked. You made him hold me back? Franny asked. I didnt want you running off before I could arrive. Im not twelve, Delilah, Franny snapped. Im an adult. One whos currently in one of the worst establishments Ive ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on, Gomorrah retorted. I felt my eyebrows rising. There was a whole heap of tension between the two, and not the fun kind. I imagined that Delilah was Gomorrahs real name. A bit weird to have spent so much time with her without knowing, actually. Are you two alright? I asked.Fi?ndd new updates at novelhall.com Whos that? Franny asked with a nod my way. You hired a bodyguard? Thats Stray Cat, Gomorrah said. Shes a samurai. A friend. Franny crossed her arms, the gesture bunching up the black cloth of her robes. She was wearing a mostly nun-like outfit, though her robes ended near her knees, which I was pretty sure wasnt standard, nor were the jeans underneath, or the all-black combat boots and choker. So, youre making friends with more people playing God? Im impressed youre even managing to make friends at all. I raised my hand. Im not playing God. I wish I could play God. Right now Im stuck in a permanent game of hide-and-go-seek but with high explosives. So, Gomorrah, this is the girl you ran halfway across the city to save? Because she doesnt look like she needs saving. Ive never needed saving, Franny said with the snap and bluster of someone who had very much needed saving at one time or another and who didnt appreciate it. Yes, Cat, this is Franny. Now that the introductions are over with, lets go home, Franny. Franny shook her head. No, Delilah, Im not just going to let you drag me back home like Im some unruly kid. The old bags can live without someone to bitch at for an evening. Yeah, well, she interrupted me mid-happy-time with my girlfriend to come rescue you. I enjoyed the incensed insult on Frannys face, as if it was enough to disguise the reddening of her cheeks. Now, Im always willing to help a friend out, but that doesnt mean I wont be obnoxious and ask questions, like Why didnt you answer your calls? and What were you doing here anyway? The old bags are the sort to spend the day preaching about being good rather than doing good, Franny said. She paused while pointing at me with a finger when a robot rolled over and crashed into the edge of our table. It was little more than an oversized roomba with some servos and a pitcher of ice where our drinks were waiting. I served us all. So you cut them off. Alright. Didnt have to cut Gomorrah here off. I took out my augs, Franny said. Its safer that way. Safer? I asked. You wouldnt understand. I shrugged. Okay. And what were you doing here? You dont drink, and something tells me that while you''d like to look, the holographic strippers arent why youre here. Franny looked to Gomorrah, then at me. Im not going to sit back and do nothing, alright. Alright, so what were you doing? While you were sleeping with... with your girlfriend, I was down here looking for people. There have been disappearances. Lots of them. The incursion nearby probably accounts for some of that, I said. Some, but not this many. No one pays much attention when nobodies disappear. But I know some of them. Or at least I know people that know them. A lot of them are too poor to move further out, and some have left families behind. Thats after the incursion. I leaned forward. And whats that got to do with the Sewer Dragons? I asked. How do you know about them? I really dont know much, I said. Franny licked her lips, but she did spill. Theyre the ones doing the kidnappings. I couldnt get any answers yesterday. I... uh, persuaded some people to let me see their security camera footage, but all the video from where the kidnappings happened was either wiped or a loop. No clues there, and no other witnesses, at least, none that I found. So I started to map things out. Okay, I said with a nod. She reached out and grabbed some of the leftover napkins I had, then laid them out on the table. The kidnappings happened in different buildings, but always on the same floor. She poured some of her water into her hand, then started pressing dots onto the napkins. And there was a pattern. There was a pattern now, all the wet smudges grouped together in a long trail. The sewers, I guess. Yeah, concentrated around openings. No specific target either, just anyone. Young, old. Inside their house or standing outside. It took some work to figure out the who, by the way. Thats impressive work, Gomorrah said, talking at last. We can tell people, tell the authorities. Franny slapped the table. They wont do anything. I sighed. This was going to be one of those discussions. *** Chapter Eleven - Playing with Gomorrah’s Franny Chapter Eleven - Playing with Gomorrah¡¯s Franny With the proper augmentations, even the least hospitable environment can become a comfortable paradise! -Exos ad, 2049 *** Frannys rant about the injustice of things and the authorities not doing anything hit close to home. At least, it did for the first couple of minutes. As she went on and on though, I found myself getting a little bored with the whole thing. Yes, life sucked. Yeah, corruption was everywhere, and people were assholes who didnt help those in worse situations than them. The corporations and whatever passed for a government around here were shit. At least Rac was making the best of it, shovelling food down hand over fist while occasionally nodding at whatever Franny was spouting. Okay, I said, a hand raised. I was surprised that I was the one interrupting Franny. Gomorrah didnt seem like the kind of girl who would sit down and take a rant like that. Then again... she was just staring at the redheadstaring and not saying anything. I held back a grin. I couldnt jump to conclusions, but I really wanted to. Maybe my teasing wasnt so far off the mark after all. Okay, so these Sewer Dragons, where are they? Why? So you can tell the police and watch them not do anything? Franny asked. What? No, Ive never called the police in my life and Im not about to start now. I want to know where theyre at so I can poke holes into them. Gomorrah sighed. I knew it would come to this, she said. I am curious as to why the Sewer Dragons are acting up now though. What theyre doing is being brushed off as losses to the incursion, but they could have done this at any time before now too. Franny looked confused for a moment before snapping out of it. I dont think this is new. I think theyve been stepping up their game. Used to be they only grabbed hobos and sometimes maintenance people who were sent down to the sewers. Now theyre going all out. Yeah, that doesnt make sense. Kidnap a dozen nobodies a year and no one will care, but... do you have a list of the people that went missing? I do, here, Franny said. I received a ping from her, with an unencrypted file at the end. I supposed a list of names and addresses wasnt anything worth keeping safe. Myalis, can you check on these peoples whereabouts? Certainly. Of the one hundred and seventeen, twelve recently made purchases or were seen in locations throughout the city. Three are outside of New Montreal. The other one hundred and two have no clear electronic trail that I am able to detect. However, my resources and access are limited at this time. One hundred and two of those people are still MIA. Yeah, no, thats too damned many. I started to shift to the side to get up. Rac, you done eating? Raccoon was currently lying back in the seat, her mouth half-open and her stomach distended from all the grub shed shovelled down. Huh? Oh, are we going? Yeah, I said. You can stay in the car while Gomorrah and I go say hi to those sewer people. Is the Oasis the biggest entrance to the sewers? I asked. Its the biggest thats easily accessible, Franny said. Kind of like their public entrance. There are a few others, at waste management plants, but those are guarded a bit more. If you want to deal with the Sewer Dragons directly, you go to the Oasis. Then lets head over. Id like to get this done sooner rather than later. Get home, take a shower, sleep. Franny shifted, her mouth working and her brows meeting together in a frown. You look pissed that Gom and I are helping, I said. Im not. Its just... Well, theres only two of you. Two samurai. Two slightly annoyed samurai. Pretty sure thats enough to break an army. She glared. Thats it, let the anger build. Soon youll be able to let it all out on some unsuspecting gang members. Franny turned to Gomorrah. Your friend is awful. She is, Gomorrah tossed me under the bus. But, she does, on occasion, get the work done. I laughed as I turned and started for the door. The Halfstars bartender seemed relieved to see us go. Poor guy probably thought wed trash the place while we were here. Or that someone would pick a fight. I saw a few guys poking at each other, jock-looking sorts that were eyeing our group up, but I think accidentally revealing that I had a grenade launcher under my coat scared them off a bit. Were not taking that maintenance elevator again, I said. I dont think it could handle four of us. Gomorrah somehow ended up at the back of the group, with myself and Raccoon in the lead and Franny a little to the side, her arms hooked over her bat, which shed slung over her shoulders. I got a call from Gomorrah almost as soon as I exited the bar. I cant believe were doing this. I made sure my mask wouldnt let my voice escape before I answered. You mean helping your girl get rid of some fucked-up gang so you can score brownie points at... just shy of six in the morning? Thats not whats happening. You know, I consider you a good friend G-girl. Im there for you and your weird nun-ish sub-dom relationship. I hate you. Raccoon looked up to me when my shoulders shook, but I just gestured for her to keep going. Had to have some fun where I could. *** Chapter Twelve - STP-44 The Oasis Chapter Twelve - STP-44 The Oasis Water is necessary for life. It goes without saying that good water is necessary for good living, then. At the lower levels, and lower costs, you have water services that will provide cheaper water. This water is poorly filtered, usually tainted and brackish, with microplastics and bacterial colonies giving it a pungent odour and colour. In better neighbourhoods, where the community has agreed to pay for a better quality of water, youll find near-distilled water. It may have some traces of industrial decontaminants within it, but it is entirely possible to drink this water without getting sick (in the short or medium term). Many buildings have their own filtration system as well, but these are expensive, and usually reserved for industrial applications. The best water, the water found only in the penthouses and the places where the ultra-rich live, is carried over to local cisterns from outside of any mega-city. It is tailored to have a good taste, a clear colouration, and no plastics, oils, or any other chemical contaminants. --On Watering, S. Cing *** The non-maintenance elevator was probably safer, but holy fuck it was slow. The entire thing hummed as it rose up, and its LEDs flickered every so often. It made some of the ads plastered to the walls look cool for the split second they were in the dark. The glow-in-the-dark ink was probably worth it. So, I asked as I debated leaning against one of the walls. Would it hold? I didnt normally have to consider whether things could handle my weight. How did you two meet? Franny turned my way. I assume youre talking about Delilah and I? Yeah, I said. I was there when GomDelilah met Rac here, so that only leaves you two, right? Franny crossed her arms, her bat left next to her, the lump at the end of the handle pushing against her side. I joined the convent when I was... nine? Ten years old? I met Gomorrah the year after that. She wouldnt stop crying until I became her friend, and then she followed me around non-stop. I was terrified, Gomorrah said. She looked my way, and probably guessed that I was missing some context. The convent has a few programs in it; some of them basically act as a sort of... babysitting slash summer-camp. Its not too expensive, and it means your daughter gets to go to a decent private school afterwards. Like a scholarship? I asked. Something like that, Gomorrah said. They train girls to be well-behaved and on how to carry out basic duties, and we get to attend one of the citys better schools for a lot less. Its also one of the stricter schools, but the results are usually pretty good. I wouldnt know, I said. Half of my schooling was online, and when I did go to a class, it wasnt exactly ritzy. Oh, my family couldnt afford anything too nice, Gomorrah said. Hence the convent. But it... well, Im not close to my parents, lets say. A lot of the girls there arent. What, like abandonment issues? Gomorrah shrugged, and I decided not to poke at it any more than that. The place isnt so bad, Franny said. She picked up her bat and twirled it around. Theyre strict, but thats better than being tossed out on the street, and theyre big on morals and such. Never could afford morals, I said. Raccoon nodded. Those are rich people things. The fuck would you read it, then? Gomorrah spun up the Fury and we pivoted before taking off out of the alley at a speed I think Franny wasnt comfortable with. When did you learn how to drive, Del? This week, Gomorrah said as she shot out into oncoming traffic, weaved over a truck, then flipped us over into the right lane. There was a speedometer sign against one wall, large green digits telling drivers how fast they were going over or under the limit. It flashed red when we roared past. So, whats the plan once we get to the Sewer Dragons? I asked. Because I have a plan, but Im not sure its a good one. Does your plan involve copious amounts of explosives? Gomorrah asked. You know me so well, I said. I... actually havent considered it that far, Franny said. If I caught a few of them in the act, I could beat them up, make them regret taking people the way they have. But Im not equipped to assault their front door. Therell be dozens of them, at least. So, we try the diplomatic method, I said. Gomorrah, you talk to them, maybe ask that they... I dont know, give up on their evil ways and such. And what will you do? I flicked on the invisibility on my coat and my new armour, and in the time it took for someone to blink, I was gone. Ill be sneaky! I said. Thats so cool, Raccoon said. I know, right? No one would be able to see me stealing their trash with something like that, she said. Not... exactly what I had in mind, but hey, good for you. I held onto one of the handles above the door as Gomorrah took a turn at a speed that was pretty far from advisable, and then I refocused on what was going on outside as we slowed down before a large gate with the words SEWAGE TREATMENT 44 stenciled across them in fading paint. Give me a minute, Gomorrah said. She did something that locked the car in place, hovering before the doorway while she wiggled her fingers in the air. The strange gestures of someone fingering their way through complex menus on their augs. Yeah, this is the one. The section beyond this technically belongs to the city, but its all being rented out by a few companies that are in charge of the water filtration and sewage treatment. They have things divided up, based on where in the city the waste is coming from and where its going. The gate thumped, dust peeling off of it in a rain of rusty flakes before the entire thing slid aside. When the path was finally clear, Gomorrah drove us in slowly, the headlights on the Fury doing more than the lights on the ceiling to illuminate the tunnels. The walls here werent walls at all, but huge pipes and tubes, all of them wide enough that I was sure the Fury could fit into them, if tightly. We moved down a long, narrow passage that opened up at the end on a large balcony that circled halfway around a lower level. It was like walking out of one of those entrances in a stadium, only instead of benches all around there were stations with pipes and little buildings with flickering lights, as well as other passages heading off every which way. The lower level had a cement arch over a much wider tunnel. There were smaller buildings all around the entrance, made of steel plates and scrapped cars. Stalls and shops and little areas where people were sitting around drums with fires burning merrily within. The entire area was lit up in the familiar blues and pinks and greens of stolen neon ads, most of them strung onto towers covered in wires to brighten the place up a little, like psychedelic trees. I guess this is where the Sewer Dragons come from, Gomorrah said. Lets find a place to park before we go say hello. *** Chapter Thirteen - What Old People Say Chapter Thirteen - What Old People Say With the Great Tinder Crash of 2024, the world of online dating suffered terribly, with people suddenly forced to try finding people to date and meet out in meatspace. Paradoxically, the number of children born in 2025 was twelve percent higher than the previous year. --Excerpt from Dating in the Modern World, 2027 *** The Fury lurched as Gomorrah put it in park and shut the car down. Alright, I said. Raccoon, Franny, stay in the car. You need me! Raccoon said before Id even reached for the handle. And Im coming too, Franny said. I shifted so that I was looking back, which wasnt easy to do while in power armour. Alright, Rac first. Why would we need you here? Raccoon swallowed, but she was a brave sort, so she tightened her fists and stared me in the eye. Or my helmets eyes--close enough. You dont know much about the Sewer Dragons. Some of them are assholes, some of them are a bunch of cunts, but some of them are alright. So you need someone to tell you which ones to off. I considered it for a moment. I was just going to walk over there, threaten some people, then murderize my way to victory. Its really late... early, whatever. Gomorrah sighed, the long-suffering sort when a more adult-y person knows a kids right and doesnt want to do something about it. She reached down to the console between the chairs, and pulled open a lid with a hiss of compressed air. A whitish haze floated out of the compartment she opened, and Gomorrah reached in to pull out a thin can with the words ENERGY DRINK stenciled on the side. Here, one for each person coming, she said as she handed me a can, then tossed one to Racoon. Franny, pointedly, didnt get one. Wheres mine? she asked. We havent determined if youre coming yet, I said, guessing at Gomorrahs intentions. Hell, if Franny was Lucy, I wouldnt bring her into some den of depraved lunatics either. So Im coming? Raccoon asked over any protests Franny could make. I slid the energy drink between my legs, glad the armour kept the chill at bay--beyond a vague impression of coolness--and reached up to undo my helmet. Yeah, you can come. Well get you a better mask, though, youre not equipped for this kind of thing. Actually, maybe we could give her a screen, let her do overwatch? Holy fuck, what happened to your face? Raccoon asked. I blinked. Usually, if people had issues with the scarring on the side of my face, they made it known when I met. Then again, I wasnt usually wearing a full-face helmet. Fire shit, I said. Cool! Like from an alien? she asked. Sure, lets go with that, I said. Lost my eye and everything. This ones a cybernetic one. Thats pog as fuck. Thanks, she said. Come on, we should get this done. We dont have to, if youre not up to it, I said. I was wired as hell though. That energy drink had some kick. No, no I want to do it. Frannys right to want to stop these kidnappings, and if no ones doing anything about it, then it kind of falls to us to take care of it. Alright. Gomorrah started walking ahead of me, and I figured Id give her a bit to settle before asking her about our plans. Franny was supposed to be there, Gomorrah said. It was a trip to some lake-side forest thing. With the school. Franny had to stay back. She busted up her hand and broke a few bones, and the sisters kept her away as a sort of punishment. Okay? I said, I wasnt sure where she was going with it. The incursion was small. Like, really small. And we were on the edges. So we started moving towards a shelter outside of the forest. Then we were hit by some Model Threes. I was next to a canister full of fuel, I had a lighter on me. Next thing I knew, Atyacus was offering to help me. Thats how you became a samurai? I asked. She nodded. It wasnt exactly glorious. There wasnt much to do after that. Rallied the others, killed a few more aliens. Not many, mind. I stuck around and tried to help after, but all the Vanguard that showed up knew what they were doing, and I didnt. Maybe I was a little shell-shocked, I guess. Came home and nothing was the same, you know? I guess. And Franny didnt care for it? Not at all. Shes been distant. Ive been distant too. Im an adult, damn it, I shouldnt be following another girl around like some... some puppy or something, but Franny meant, means, a lot to me. Im not actually sure what to say. Nothing, I dont think, Gomorrah said. Itll work out, or it wont. Im mature enough to concede that much. Well, if it was Lucy, and Id somehow changed in a way she doesnt understand, I think Id talk to her about it? Ive tried, was her flat response. Fair enough. Should have figured youd give it a try. I gestured aimlessly ahead. I guess you can prove to her that you dont need her anymore, not to keep you safe, but then she might drift off, you know? Think that since you dont need her, you dont like her anymore. Thats ridiculous. Probably doesnt feel that way to her, I said. Im a bit worried that Lucy will start thinking I dont need her either, which is stupid. Or maybe now shes better and Im not always going to be around, shell find someone nicer than me. Someone with more fleshy bits... and probably a nicer ass. Was there something I could buy for that? Had to be. A problem for later. I dont think its quite the same. This is entirely platonic, Gomorrah said. I nodded along, not believing her one whit. Yeah, totally. Now, lets at least get the proving youre badass part down. *** Chapter Fourteen - Mally? Chapter Fourteen - Mally? You cant survive in the sewers. Those who work within them can only survive thanks to their extremely robust survival equipment. The kinds of augmentations (augs) required to survive and work without restrictions within these environments are often disfiguring, require massive modifications to a persons skeletal frame, musculature, and brain. It will be impossible, or impractical, to convince normal people to work in these conditions. I suggest that the board find a way to improve our existing robotic infrastructure to care for the maintenance of these sewer systems. It would be more expensive, but the cost in lives would be worse otherwise. --Report to the Board of Infracorp, 2032 *** I twisted my head left and right to crack my neck. That energy drink had given me a kick in the rear, but I still felt as if I should be in bed. I wouldnt be able to sleep, and Id probably be restless as hell, but still. Gomorrah was going to owe me for messing up my sleep schedule. Or I could spend the next couple of days napping here and there. Had to live up to the cat part of my name. Alright, I said as I switched channels. Rac, tell us what we have to know. Gomorrah and I paused at the top of the last landing before the ground level of the sewer opening. There was a single working neon sign, large and piss-yellow, with a green blow-up palm tree next to it. It read The Oasis! in letters taller than I was. Below that were the stalls and roads leading into the sewers. I could make out plenty of amateur artwork staining the cement walls. Long eastern-style dragons, often made to look like they were diving out of manholes. I tried a quick headcount. Maybe fifty people in all. Most of them looked... pretty normal. Vagrant chic, with maybe a few more augs than Id expect from homeless people. Lots of prosthetics going around, and a lot of people were wearing long, brown coats that hung low on their frames. Right, right! Raccoons voice came in my ear. Okay, see that place at the back, on the right? Looks like a sort of watch room, with the windows? I looked that way and made out a control room set above and next to the large entrance into the sewers. It had angled windows overlooking the Oasis. Mirrored windows, so I couldnt make out anything within. Yeah, I see it. Thats where some of the people in charge of the Oasis stay. Theres like, a place with rooms and stuff in there. Thats what I was told, anyway. So well find the Sewer Dragons there? I asked. Well, yeah and nah. The people here are Sewer people, but they might not be Sewer Dragons, you know? A lot of them are just hiding out in the sewers cause theyre safe, in a way. But pretty much everyone works for the Sewer Dragons in one way or another. Huh, I said. So we... dont gun them all down? Yeah, just some of them, Rac said. I would rather you didnt go in and kill everyone, Franny snapped. Its got its uses, I said. I kept close to Gomorrah as she reached the ground floor and looked around. There were people coming and going. Vans parked to the side and unloading boxes, people coming over, sometimes with boxes or crates, others in little groups carrying more weapons than was likely legal. There was life here. Dirty life, but life. Gomorrah went left, and I kept after her as she moved towards a line of tents. Mallys was painted on one wall in fat graffiti letters, little hearts and flowers through the name. Gomorrah moved around to the front of the tent, where the curtains were pulled back. The rear of the tent was an air-sealed room. Clear plastic let us see into a small kitchen area where a pair of people were working some pots and pans. From the over-full trash can at the back, they were cooking from two dozen different sorts of canned food and some microwavable meals. There was someone at the front, next to a counter covered in torn linoleum. She was rubbing the surface with some cloth, mechanical arm moving in little circles. Mally, or the person I guessed was Mally, had a half-mask on, her mouth entirely hidden by it and twin tubes coming out of the mask and diving into her flesh between neck and collarbone. Her arms were both long, thin things, servos at the elbows and wrists, and hands that were all actuators and chrome. She was hunched over, long mechanical legs folded in on themselves so she could fit under the tent, but it was obvious they were designed to extend and make her much taller than she was now. I guess shed be over nine feet tall standing up with everything extended and her three-padded feet deployed. Her long coat, all black but decorated with colourful stickers of flowers and suns, hung over her frame, hiding her torso entirely. Hello, Gomorrah said. Mally looked up, organic eyes blinking to take in Gomorrah. Oh, hello, deary, she said. I dont recognize you, but youre welcome, as all are. Her voice had a croak to it. Old age and rough air, I guessed. Thank you, Gomorrah said. Im a little bit... lost, I suppose. Im here looking for some people, maybe you could help me? Certainly. Are you hungry? Were not quite done with breakfast, but if you take a seat itll be ready in no time. No, but thank you. I appreciate it. Oh, no need for that. I do charge. Its just good business. Are you from one of the convents? You have the outfit for it, but its not often that we see your sort this far down. Yes, but Im here on my own business, Gomorrah said. Im looking for some people, quite a few of them. Theyve gone missing recently. Mallys cleaning stopped for a moment, then she resumed. People go missing, she said. Its a terrible thing, isnt it? But its a big sewer, and there are plenty of nooks and crannies. Right. Maybe you could help me find them? Or maybe the Sewer Dragons could help. I hear that they know this place fairly well. I... that might not be good business, sweetie. Gomorrah sighed audibly. Yes, I know. But its my business now. Please? Can you help me? Chapter Fifteen - The Cultures Beneath Chapter Fifteen - The Cultures Beneath Youll find good people anywhere. You just wont find a lot of them. --Sewer Dragon proverb *** Mally turned her eyes down and stared at her counter, her hand resuming its slow circles, rubbing away at some grime that seemed determined not to leave. Miss Mally is nice, Raccoon repeated in my ear. She was speaking in a hushed tone, as if worried shed be heard. She makes sure everyone has something to eat. I supposed that was important in a place like this, where food had to be scarce, or at least harder to come by. Kind people werent too uncommon. I could remember soup kitchens and vans set up by folk whod given away meals. Some were pretty decent. People were, I found, not mean by nature. Just greedy, and it was easy to forget to look down and remember that those beneath you didnt need much to be helped. Some folk didnt forget; they helped where they could. Maybe it was selfish, maybe they did it for the praise, but I figured that was fine. It was some of the only actual praise that was deserved. Miss Mally? Gomorrah asked. The womans mechanical hand tightened, squeezing her rag. What do you need to know, dearie? I moved off to the side, to make sure I wouldnt be in the way if anyone stepped into the room. It let me keep a better eye on the two still in the kitchen mixing stuff in a pot. Gomorrah stood a little taller. I need to know where the people who have been kidnapped are being kept. And I need to know whos doing it. Everyone is pointing fingers at the Sewer Dragons, but its a big group; I dont want to be indiscriminate. Ah, I... thank you, Mally said. Were not all bad people down here, you know. Jeff and Cynthia back there were middle management for a nice little company. When they closed up, some accounts came back crooked, and someone had to be blamed. So now theyre here. Okay? Gomorrah said. Was she going on a tangent on purpose? I was a manager at Nimbletainment once. Then I slept with the wrong man, and the next thing I knew, his wife tried to bury me. I had nowhere to go. My story isn''t so special, I dont think. Most of the people here are like that. I see, Gomorrah said. I just need to know where to look. Mallys hand shot out, faster than I expected, and grabbed Gomorrah by the arm, metal fingers pinching the material of her habit. You should leave. We have nothing left to take. And less to lose. Gomorrah tore her arm free. Miss, I dont care. Those people are lost already, Mally said, her arm retracting. It had stretched out, growing longer with her little lunge. Then Ill find those responsible and stop them from trying again. Youll get yourself killed. Please, if you want to help, then there are other ways. She gestured around, eyes jittering around as if she was nearing a panic attack. Therere so many things you could be doing to help. Gomorrah, I said, my voice sent to her and the two in the Fury. I think its time to go. I sighed. I miss killing aliens. Theres no moral shit to wade through, you know? They look like evil plants: you shoot them. Nice and simple. If the Sewer Dragons themselves are as crude as I suspect, I dont think youll need to worry too much. Now... maybe we find someone important to question? Gomorrah tilted her head back and looked to the tower next to the entrance. That works for me, I said. We started crossing the Oasis, but had hardly made it more than a dozen metres before Gomorrah was stopped. The culprit was a boy wearing a hoodie under one of those long coats. He had normal-seeming legs, though their bottom halves were all bare metal and plastic-covered servos. His hood covered a full-face mask made of reflective glass on the outside. Hey, babe, he said. What? Gomorrah asked. I said, hey, babe, the guy repeated, louder. Im not hard of hearing, Gomorrah replied. My question was more in the lines of what are you doing? Perhaps what do you think will happen if you dont get out of my way? Hey, nothing like that, he said. Just saw an unfamiliar face, so to speak. Thought Id say hi. You cant believe how hard it is to meet new, ah, friends down here. Say, you bio under those robes? Im what? Gomorrah asked. Bio? Meat, still got the curves your mama gave you. Gomorrah and I stared for a while. I knew he couldnt see me, but still. Im a nun. Thats cool. No, no, its... go away, please. Wait, I said. He might know something. Gomorrah half-turned to look in my general direction. You have got to be kidding me. He thinks youre hot. Use it, I said. That is both demeaning and disgusting, Franny said. I agree, Gomorrah replied. Uh, you okay, babe? our new idiot buddy asked. Cat got your tongue? Gomorrah sighed, then she grabbed the idiot by the arm and tugged him along. Follow me, she said as she aimed for the back of the Oasis, where a few signs indicated the bathrooms. And dont talk until I tell you to. Yes, maam! he said. Poor fucker. *** Chapter Sixteen - Fun in the Washroom Chapter Sixteen - Fun in the Washroom The article looked wonderful. The Sewer Dragons are an interesting enough society from a purely anthropological viewpoint that the university would never pass up an opportunity to study them. So, they send in a team of five graduate students, and (apparently) after conferring with the Sewer Dragons they met, three of them agreed--with the universitys approval--to go through the extensive procedures needed to join the group on a temporary basis. I was really eager to read their publication and look through the initial findings, but the paper is just fuck you written over and over. The graduates discovered that the university insurance wouldnt cover their retransformation into people able to return to normal society. Why cant I get a refund on the paper I bought? --Excerpt from the Anthrough Journal Customer Support Forums, 2052 *** Gomorrah pulled our favourite new boy toy to a washroom. Hey, hey, this is a bit fast for me, he said as his back bumped into the door and shoved it open. I followed them in, ears twitching to make sure we were alone. If there was anyone in one of the stalls, they were real quiet shitters. I pushed the door closed and pressed the heel of a boot against it. The bathroom was a shit hole. Busted doors on the stalls, a cracked mirror against the wall. Of the three sinks, only one was free of yellow tape, and that one was currently leaking brownish sludge water into a basin already half-full of the stuff. Some of the non-penis art was nice though. Gomorrah let go of flirty boy and wiped her hand against the side of her robes. Im happy you came up to me, she said. Uh, yeah, the idiot said. Yes. I have questions. I doubt youll be able to answer them. Atyacus, shut off his coms. My coms? Oh, fuck, howd you do that? He reached up, rubbing the side of his head in the way a lot of people did when their augs were on the fritz. Hey, I wasnt going to record everything, and if I had, its not like Id resell it. Gomorrah reeled back. Thats disgusting, she said. It is, Franny agreed over the line. I dont get it, Raccoon added. Thats fine, I said. Franny can explain. Gomorrah, question away.Upstodatee from not entirely sure where to start, Gomorrah said. She tilted her head to both sides, stretching her neck. When she next spoke, her voice filled the bathroom. Are you part of the Sewer Dragons? Hey, babe, I''ll be anyones dragon if they ask nice enough, he said, some of his confidence returning. Gomorrah looked at him. A pair of flamethrowers slid out from her habit over her shoulders and pointed themselves at his face. Do you work for the Sewer Dragons? she asked again. Oh shit, what are those? he asked, two mechanical fingers pointing at the flamethrowers. Flamethrowers, Gomorrah said. I wouldnt have expected to see Delilah threatening someone, Franny said. What, and you carry that bat around as a walking stick? I asked. Our new friend squirmed a bit. Like, thats hot, but Im not into whatever kink that is. Gomorrah didnt seem quite done with her new friend. A few last questions, she said. You say theres no one in charge, but there has to be some sort of hierarchy. And how do the Sewer Dragons operate? You cant be this much of a black box. Hey, hey, its real simple, he said, then he started to gestured, hands coming around as if moving a little ball though the air. Everyone that joins the commune has skills. Even if its just manual stuff. If someone brings someone new in, or someone joins up, theyre brought to Doc Hack, and he fixes you up. Fixes how? I asked. Gomorrah repeated the question to our pal who gestured to himself. Make it so that you can live down here. You need filters over your air intake; that means replacing some of your throat. You cant have legs in the sewers, not for long. And you need some other things, augs that let you know what the airs like. That explained some of his extensive modifications. Id seen a few aug-junkies before, idiots that went really deep into cybernetics. Usually they wanted high-tech stuff, not the rust-chic aesthetic the Sewer Dragons Id seen had going for them. So, you get fixed up, then you get a nook to live in. Nicer ones have better air, are further from the ins than the outs. The whats? Gomorrah asked. Intake or outtake tunnels, he explained. Once youre set up, you do your part. Thats it. We keep each other safe, sorta. Theres no police down here, no bossmans, no leaders. We have community halls and game nights. Cute, Gomorrah said. We have the same at the convent, but without the hideous self-mutilation and kidnapping. She growled. Where does your money come from? You cant live off of nothing. I dunno. We take care of the sewers, keep it running. Without us, people will have to shit in buckets and fling it out the windows. Thats it? Gomorrah asked. He nodded. Yeah. Been a right nightmare this last week too. Ive been, uh, not around for added work shifts because of other preoccupations, but lately everyones working a lot more. How many of you are there? Gomorrah asked. We dont exactly have a census, he said. But, uh, maybe twenty k? Thirty maybe? Less now; a lot of us died last week. Lost, like, a whole housing area to the xenos and a bunch of good folk besides when the aliens dipped into the sewers. Are there any left? Antithesis, I mean? Some other samurai came in, gave the sewers a look, said it was fine. Havent heard of any, but weve been on high alert for that shit for a few days. There are a lot less of them around, Raccoon said. Usually theres a lot of Sewer Dragons near the Oasis, and today it looked a bit empty. I unjammed my foot from the edge of the door. Anything else you want to ask Casanova here? No, Im done, Gomorrah said. She let go of the boy and backed off, then she pointed a finger right at him. Stay here. I dont need you running into the crossfire. Yes, maam! he said. His eyes widened as I opened the door for Gomorrah and followed her out. Didnt learn much, Franny said. I saw Gomorrahs shoulders tensing up. We did learn some things. Mostly that were not fighting anything organized. What do you think is happening? Kidnapping people to feed pet aliens? More bodies for some corporation or another? Nah, Raccoon said. When a corp wants bodies, they just put a bounty out. Thats disturbing, Gomorrah muttered. As for the antithesis, it would be significantly cheaper to feed one with just about any other biomass. Buying a tonne of potatoes is easier than kidnapping a tonnes worth of people. Well then, I said. Im stumped. *** Chapter Seventeen - Shit Bureaucracy Chapter Seventeen - Shit Bureaucracy New Montral is an interesting city for many reasons, one of which is its government. Originally a city in Quebec, after the Great Split, Montral declared itself a city-state and was rechristened New Montral. Its fledgling government discovered an immediate issue when its mixed-language groups both started to wrestle for power within the city. The end result is a municipal government thats nearly entirely French, serving a population thats nearly entirely English, while in actuality being run by an upper-crust that is entirely non-Canadian. --Excerpt from the Guide Touristique du Nouveau Montral, dition, 2049 *** I figure we walk on in and just go straight to them, I said with a gesture to the Oasis entrance. Wed wasted enough time asking questions and trying to get to the bottom of things, but the Sewer Dragons seemed about as organized as my kittens halfway into a pillow fight. There was some semblance of a hierarchy, maybe, but there wasnt a boss, and no one quite knew what the others were thinking except that they were all thinking along the same chaotic lines. Gomorrah nodded. Might as well. Either well find someone to help us or well find the people were looking for. Do you think we need anything special to head in? I guess well need masks and things able to keep us alive in there. Does your armour cover you entirely? Did you think I was nude under my robes? Gomorrah asked. I raised my arms in surrender. I wasnt even thinking it. I thought you had some sort of underarmour on. But... now that Im imagining it, its not a bad mental image. Gomorrahs hand snapped back and she smacked my arm with the back of her hand. Pervert, she said. Are you always this horny? Franny asked. I grinned. Your Delilahs the one that started it... this time. But, before we start talking too much, we really do need a gear check. Myalis, we going to be okay in there? If by we you mean you and I, then yes. Your underarmour is intact, reading at 99% integrity. It should prevent most chemical or radiological contaminants from touching your skin. Your Lions Manes structural integrity is still replicator-perfect. Your helmets filtration system should allow you to breathe in nearly any environment, and with the stored air, you could survive in a vacuum for up to a quarter of an hour. So, no dying from fart air. Nice, I said. A disgusting way to put it, Gomorrah said. But not entirely wrong. Im ready as well, although... I think I might need to disrobe. I blinked. Huh? Gomorrah tugged at the front of her black robes. These wont be great in what might be a wet environment. Made sense. Gomorrah and I looked for a place for her to change, and we ended up sneaking into an alley between two small maintenance buildings off to the side of the Oasis. I stood by the entrance, making sure no one was around, then I looked back in. Gomorrah shifted her shoulders, then carefully reached up and tugged at the edge of her collar. It loosened and she tugged down the outer hood of her habit. She had a tighter, white hood beneath, one stuck to the sides of a helmet that looked about as high-tech as my own. Well, it has little glowy bits and was made of metal, so I was guessing. She placed a leg forwards, then bent down and swept the robes off in a single, languid motion, the cloth riding up along her legs and back and revealing the Gomorrah underneath until she straightened, a bundle of cloth in her hands. She started to casually fold the robes while I stared. I thought my armour was a bit... feminine, but Gomorrahs was on another level. Tight, fitting to her calves and thighs and butt, with armoured plates and some sort of blacker-than-black weave over the parts that needed any flexibility. Her back-mounted flamethrowers rested below her shoulders like a pair of folded wings, and there was a cross-shaped cut out under her bust. I dont think the whole dont shit where you eat thing applies down here, I said as I minimized the map back to a square in the corner of my vision. Raccoon giggled, and I heard her feet patting against... what was likely the front seat in the Fury. Gomorrah groaned. And now you went from disturbing to disgusting. I do that, I said. No one stopped us--or at least Gomorrah, who was the only one visible--from entering the facility. I was expecting a sewer. Like, a large tunnel half-filled with shit water. Instead, it was all cinderblock walls and a cement floor, lights hung from the ceiling, most of them functional enough to brighten the place up. Crates were pressed against one wall, some shipping containers against another, and on either end was a long tunnel that curved around. A few metal doors at the far end seemed to open up into some offices, of all things. Not what I expected, I said. This is an access area, Gomorrah said. The map... isnt terribly clear. Hey, miss, whatcha doing here? someone asked. It was a rotund man, with a ketchup-stained button-up and slacks. He had a helmet on, like a large glass bubble with the bottom half over his mouth covered in filters, but otherwise he could have been any mid-level factory foreman. At least, I figured he was a foreman; thats what the tag on his shirt said. Hello, Gomorrah said. Im... who are you? Im Bob, he said. Whore you? Im Gomorrah. Im looking for access to... this area. Bob frowned the frown of someone who had both been interrupted--there was some sauce on his patchy moustache--and of someone whod been sent a pile of data that they didnt want. Thats a ways from here. Do you have permission to be down here, miss? Gomorrah gestured to some of the others in the large room. Sewer Dragons, with their long coats and metallic limbs. Some were looking our way, others were fiddling with tablets or pushing crates along or just minding their own business. Do they? she asked. Yes, he said. They do. Theyre all commission-based, temp-contract workers for the city of STE New Montreal. STE? I muttered. The department in charge of the citys sewerage: Socit de transport des gouts du Nouveau Montral. Oh, fuck me, I said. Bureaucrats. Id rather have my legs eaten by an alien than deal with that kind of shit. *** Chapter Eighteen - Flush Prime Chapter Eighteen - Flush Prime In 2034, rich tycoon and owner of Theracore, Wallace Everyman, discovered his London penthouse filled with a foot of untreated sewer water. It was an act of vandalism caused by some activists fighting against his new proposal that would tax employees based on the number of hours worked. As the news went around, the ultra-rich and top-percenters became worried that such an attack could be carried out against their own homes. Then, middle management officer J. Grimm proposed Flush Prime, a service whereupon the undesirables of the rich would be treated with the respect they deserved... for a small monthly fee. In 2047 it was discovered that Flush Prime never actually existed as anything more than a very expensive pipe dream. Excerpt from The Great Scams, 2052 *** Bob was actually pretty nice, I decided. Cmon, he said once it became clear we didnt have a clue what we were doing. The man turned and led us through one of the doors at the end of the room where an admin area was laid out. There were a few desks in neat cubicles and posters on the wall, mostly maps of the sewers or blueprints of some sewage plants, but there were a few nude women with spread legs and the sort of proportions that were only possible with extensive surgery, or in cartoons. Classy place. The far end of the room had a few screens with the camera feeds overlooking what looked like a really complex command centre. Right this way, Bob said. He opened a second door into a small office and plopped himself down behind a chair with a heavy thump. Close the door, please. I slid in before Gomorrah, then found a spot by the corner. I felt like the worlds most boring voyeur. Bob gestured to a grubby seat across from his desk. It was the only seat in the room not covered in papers or soda cans. Once everything was settled, he reached up and removed his helmet. Now, whats a samurai doing down here? You knew I was a samurai? Gomorrah asked. Kinda obvious, isnt it? And youre not... worried? Bob shrugged. Mightve lied on a few reports here and there. Taken a bribe or two in my day. But I never did nothing worth that sort of attention. Im responsible for making sure the three-odd billion tons of sewage getting pumped by here dont explode and get processed well enough. Its boring work, but the pays alright, and someones gotta do it. I... see. You dont mind the Sewer Dragons? Them? Course not. I run this plant, thats it. The Sewer Dragons take care of their home. Mighty thankful for it too. No one else will do what they do. And whats that? Gomorrah asked. Everything, Bob said. They know how every machine works, can tell somethings fucked by the noise or smell alone. Theyll dive in sludge to fix valves, and run down lines thatll kill a normal man from the smell alone just to kick at a clog.Fi?ndd new updates at novelhall.com Huh, Gomorrah said. Because he was fat and dirty? I asked. Huh? Nah, because he does paperwork stuff, she replied. A fair and just point. Think his directions are worth following? I asked. Theyre pretty straightforward, Gomorrah said. My map flashed and updated, a yellow line cutting through it towards one of the flashing buildings. I think its similar to what Atyacus projected as a route. Is there a way to get to those placed overland? Like, without being in the sewers? Some locations can be reached from the exterior. The sewer system is mostly suspended beneath the structure holding the city in place, and large portions of it should be accessible from the exterior. But some areas are buried inside of the hexplate, and others are within the basements of the structures above. Right, I said. Thats how they kidnapped people; every building is linked to the sewers. Damn, if they try to run away, well never catch anyone. Gomorrah nodded as she stepped out into the main corridor again. The Sewer Dragons that had been around earlier were conspicuously missing. Well, fuck. No choice about it, Gomorrah said. Lets keep moving. It shouldnt be easy for them to hide as many people as theyve abducted. Its not like they can just flush them away, I grumbled. We were quiet after that, walking down the surprisingly loud corridor, Gomorrahs footfalls echoing ahead of us along with the rumble of the working ventilation. The corridor straightened after the curve, though the floor wasnt level. It took me a few steps to realize there was a slight uphill tilt to it. Weird. And also annoying to walk on. The passage went on and on, with alcoves on the sides and places where the walls would open up and large pipes with QR-coded labels ran through. Thats the Ratways, Gomorrah said a little ways down. She gestured ahead to an alcove that was very obviously surrounded by a knee-high wall. There were spikes on the inside of the wall, each about half a foot long. What the hell is up with that? I asked. Im assuming it has to do with the rats, she said. Rats tall enough youd place the spikes this high off the ground? I asked. No, dont answer. Ive seen some big rats before. But never any that required spike walls. Yeah, theyre real fucking big, Rac said. I saw one the size of a dog once. Like, a decent-sized dog. Some of them are covered in boils and, like, tumours and shit, because theyre not smart and theyll eat anything. You hear stories about packs of them pouring out of sewer grates and eating homeless people or people carrying food thats not sealed right. I was beginning to suspect Gomorrah and I were in for a fun morning. *** Chapter Nineteen - Humanity Degraded Chapter Nineteen - Humanity Degraded When cybernetic replacements became more common, there was this prevalent fear that they would make a person less human. The notion that having a bionic heart or a mechanical hand makes a person any less greedy, vain, prideful, and dumb, is entirely wrong, of course. --Excerpt from a VoidFight Forum post, 2033 *** So, where are we going? I asked as we pushed past the entrance into... I guessed it was the Ratways, at least judging by the stencils on the nearest wall. Down this passage until that large junction ahead into sludge line 537. It looks like its a big tunnel that goes on for... a few kilometres actually. It might be a long walk, Gomorrah said. If I may interject, Myalis said, speaking through my coms so everyone could hear. The locals use vehicles to travel across the larger lines, including sludge line 537. Whos that? Rac asked. I heard Franny inhaling. That was a saints companion, she said with a weird amount of reverence. Thats just Myalis, my AI, I said. Just? Myalis asked. Shes very arrogant for a bunch of ones and zeroes, I added. Myalis was quiet for a while. I wont argue, except to correct you on two mistakes you have made. First, it isnt arrogance if it is entirely earned. Second, Im hardly made of something as primitive as binary. Your AI is a lot more vocal than Atyacus, Gomorrah said. She ducked under a low-hanging pipe, and I did the same right after her. You mean Myalis is more interesting than your Atyacus, I shot back. The Ratways really deserved their names. The passageway was a long series of corridors, cut apart by large bulkhead doors that were usually left wide open. Each segment was filled with pipes, either vertical along the sides, or straight horizontal pipes that cut across the ceiling. QR labels were slapped onto all of them, though I imagined some of the pipes werent being used for much, especially those that looked like they were rusted through. There was a nice sludge of decomposing detritus in the corners, though I did recognize some of the trash. Cups and straws and brightly coloured boxes from a few fast food joints I knew. People ahead. I blinked out of my reverie and focused. Gomorrah wouldnt say something like that for shits and giggles. I tapped Gomorrah on the shoulder. Let me check ahead, I said. She nodded, then shifted to the side where part of the cement wall that jutted out would cover her a little better. Her flamethrower came up, ready to spray whatever goop she had in there. Walking carefully, I moved up to the next bulkhead. The door was all metal, and about as thick as my thumb. It had some instructions stickered to it and a complicated wheel lock. I made sure not to touch it as I peeked into the next room over. It was a larger segment. The ceiling still low, but the room was wider, with cement half-walls spaced out evenly across. There was a bulkhead at the end, but also one to the right, between two cement half-arches that reached the ceiling. I couldnt see anyone, but it wasnt hard to hear the shuffling of cloth and the slow sound of people breathing. Well done, I said. Thats three for me, two for you, Gomorrah said. I blinked. Was she being competitive all of a sudden? Wed worked together for a few days and Id never really had the impression she cared about getting more kills or anything of the sort. Then again, we had never fought with an audience watching over us. You know what my aim is like, I said. Gomorrah hummed something noncommittal and moved over to one of the ambushers, who was stuck in the foam in such a way the top of his head was still partially visible. His eyes were darting around madly, and he was twitching from side to side to try and free himself. Gomorrah pointed the end of her flamerthrowers nozzle into his face. We have questions, she said. Then she fired. Id half expected fire, and from the gasp I overheard, so had Franny. Instead, a yellowish liquid splattered onto the guys face and the foam melted away, revealing his entire head. Whaa! he shouted. I had to hold back a snort at that. Seeing as how there wasnt anyone around, I flicked off my cloaking. Hey there, pal, I said. Myalis, shut off their comms, please. And can you root around and see what they were thinking? Five guys with what looked like pneumatic guns trying to take out even a single samurai was suicidal, at least by most standards. Who are you, and why were you trying to ambush me? Gomorrah asked. Didnt know you were a samurai! he said. We heard some corpo-types were here making noise. And your first idea was to attack? This is our home! he shouted. I shook my head. This guy sounded like he was on the wrong end of zealous. Who told you we were here? I asked. The doc! The doc pays attention to that kind of thing. I do have some messages from a contact calling itself Doc Hack. They claim a single corporate agent would be at our current location and they should be killed and disposed of. I shut off my helmet comms. Any sign that the good Doc knew we were samurai? No obvious signs, no. Anything about the folk were looking for? I asked. Not directly. But there might be some oblique references. Doc Hack has been putting out requests on whats essentially a community bounty board for cybernetic parts. It seemed quite urgent. Huh, I said. Can you figure anything out from the sort of parts theyre looking for? I asked. At a guess, they are converting more people into Sewer Dragons. Notably, a group was praised for breaking into a factory from its sewer connection and stealing a crate full of commercial-grade cybernetic lung replacements. Fuck, I said. That didnt bode well. *** Chapter Twenty - Up Shit’s Creek Chapter Twenty - Up Shit¡¯s Creek They tried, you know. Way back in the late 2020s, there was this whole thing where they tried to cut down on drug use. It wasnt all that great. The world was going to shit, what did they expect, people to inject less shit into themselves? Nah, we still made bank. It became harder to move materials around, but then, no one ever really checked the sewers. --Excerpt from a 2049 autobiography. *** One thing became increasingly clear as Gomorrah questioned our ambushers. They didnt know jack shit. If they did know something, then they werent spilling. Myalis and Atyacus both took a turn rooting around in their augments to see if there was anything worth finding, but other than some questionable kinks, a few bits of potential blackmail, and a lot of mundane messages, there wasnt really anything worth our time. One of them knew about the kidnappings. A younger member had been helping transport some people grabbed from the upper levels. He was a ferry driver, and that meant he had seen the kidnapped people being shifted to one of the locations Myalis had tagged as a likely spot for the kidnapped to be housed in. But as for the why, he had nothing. This is such a waste of time, I muttered as I stood up from a crouch. Talking to our new buddies was made more complicated when all of them were glued to the floors and walls in rather awkward positions. The goop was starting to melt off though. Given another four or five hours, theyd be able to start fighting their way free. I didnt plan on being around for that. I think I agree, Gomorrah said. Any ideas, Raccoon, Franny?Upstodatee from No. These people seem like... pardon the term, but they seem like lowlives. Theyre not at the top of the food chain. The way they put it, theres no food chain around here, I said. I reached up to rub at my nose, then sighed and let my hand drop. Masks were annoying. I think we might need to go pay this Doc Hack guy a visit though. He doesnt seem to be quite in charge, but he is giving out orders, which is close enough. I think Ive heard of him, Rac said. Hes, like, this super smart guy that used to be a bigwig in some company, but then he did something sleazy and he came down into the sewers to be left alone. Hes been there forever though. Some people say hes like a boogieman. Oh, great, I said. I loved the idea of a sewer-dwelling bogeyman. The name Doc Hack inspired such great imagery too. I could imagine telling the kittens to shut up and go to sleep, or else Doc Hack would show up and gut them. Gomorrah picked up her flame-thrower where shed left it on the ground. Should we keep moving? she asked. I have the codes for one of their vehicles. Thatll save us some points, I muttered. Yeah, lets move on. These guys can chill out over here. Do a bit of thinking about all of their, uh, sins or whatever. Being glued to the floor isnt exactly like visiting a confessional, Franny said. I laughed as I gestured to the end of the room. Were continuing down that way? They dont look so reliable, I said. Of the three, two looked like theyd been scavenged from one time too many, which meant there really was just one boat we could use. The third was about as big as a minivan, with hip-high walls around it covered in a nice spray of shit over off-white plastic boards. There was a small cabin in the centre, with a window and a wheel next to some levers that no doubt operated the whole thing. Thats our ride? I asked. Its that or we swim, Gomorrah said. Or you could buy something. Im not buying a vehicle specifically made to navigate through shit, I said. Thats... such a waste of points. No, lets use that thing. I started to regret my choice the moment I walked down the ramp leading to the dock. The boat was even worse from up close, with a few holes in its bottom and some obvious decay all over. Even the bits that looked like they were made of aluminium looked like they were starting to fall apart. I dont believe this thing was made for these conditions, Gomorrah said as she leapt onto the boat. It bobbed in place, sending a few quick-fading ripples through the sludge. I pity the poor idiot who discovered their boat was stolen and brought over here, I said. Gomorrah installed herself behind the wheel and looked over the controls. There was a small onboard computer on the dashboard, with a touch screen that was entirely dark. She poked at it, then the obvious on button next to it. Predictably it did nothing. Theres nothing on here to start the engine, Gomorrah said. I shifted over to the back and grimaced at the onboard. I think its electric? There wasnt an obvious gas tank or an exhaust. The latches to the side of the engine were undone, so I tugged them open then stared at the stuff within. Theres a gun here, I said. And... I think those are batteries? There was a thick wire with a metal loop on the end dangling next to a battery post. I grabbed the wire and touched it to the post, then shifted my legs for balance as the engine whined to life and started to push the boat forwards--while we were still connected to the dock. That worked, Gomorrah said. She throttled down and the boat stopped bobbing quite so badly. Great, I said as I slammed the case shut. I walked over to the nearest line holding the boat in place and, after a moment of staring, recalled that I had a super suit that had very sharp nails. The shitty ropes holding us in place didnt last long. The boat moved over towards the middle of the sludge line, and Gomorrah spun it around to face the direction we had to go. There werent any seats on the boat, so I gravitated to the middle and hung onto the cabin. Lets get going then, Gomorrah said. Im real happy Im here and not there, Rac said. I didnt say anything, but I wished I was back there too. *** Chapter Twenty-One - Disposal Chapter Twenty-One - Disposal Chapter Twenty-One - Disposal Want your biological junk gone? Call Want-Not today! Safe and sanitary biowaste disposal since 2023! --Excerpt from an ad for the biological waste and pseudo-meat production company, Want-Not Inc., 2034 *** The pontoon boat moved like one of those little four-wheeled scooters that walking whales used when they were shopping in the bigger discount stores. Thats to say, it was slow as hell, and, judging from the engines whine, it was having a hard time even keeping up this pace. This is like the worlds worst amusement park ride, I said as I looked around. The walls were all arched up, with large struts every dozen metres, and lights hanging off of them to brighten things up a little. But only a little. Something tells me you havent ever been to an amusement park, Gomorrah said. I have, actually. The orphanage got this cheap trip to this amusement park, just outside of the city. Big rides, lots of tourists and middle-class sorts. We were there for some photoshoot thing. You know, bunch of kids that can all smile, most of them obviously disabled in some way so the place looks like its inclusive and shit. That sounds... nice? Gomorrah tried. Eh, we werent allowed on the rides, but we got lots of free food and stuff. Im pretty sure Lucy stole a shirt too. She might still have it somewhere. Gomorrah shook her head, but she kept her attention fixed on the waters ahead. The trip was going to be a dull one, I figured. I hear places like that have the best trash if youre looking for food and stuff, Rac said. Theres this man on sub-six. He buys any meat you can pick up. Ten credits per pound. I bet you could make thousands just from the stuff they throw away at a park. What does he do with the meat? I asked. Sausages. Made sense. Thats disgusting, Franny said. Dont you love street food? Gomorrah asked. Not anymore, was Frannys quick reply. I laughed. At least we had good conversation to make the ride a little less dull. Then I heard something ahead, a low rumble that was growing louder. It didnt sound like the gurgle of shit water coming out from some of the smaller pipes either. Gom, someones heading this way, I said. I pulled out my Icarus and checked its ammo count. Down to five rounds. Good enough for something small, probably. Could just be normal traffic down here, Gomorrah said. Her shoulder mounted flame-throwers deployed anyway, which said a lot about how confident she was in that statement. I tucked my launcher under my coat and made my way to the front of the boat, careful about the part of the floor that looked corroded through. We were bobbing along hard enough that some of the slush we were cutting across splashed up and onto the sides of the boat, painting it in a fresh coat of brackish brown. I really, really didnt want to fall into the sludge. What? I asked. Do I look like a fed? The guys stared at me, then at each other. Im a samurai, for fucks sake, I shouted back. Im here to look for kidnapped people. The people Doc took? one of them shot back. I really didnt know what to say to that. Yes? Shoot her! Are you fucking-- I ducked down as a spray of pellets zipped through the air above me. They might not have been shooting proper guns, but it was hard to tell when being shot at. Gomorrah spun the wheel, throwing us across to the other side of the tunnel and casting a wake behind us that had the faster boat chopping up and down through the wastewater. Youre terrible at negotiations! she screamed. Oh, shut up. Watch them negotiate this! Standing on wobbly legs, I brought my launcher around and fired, five squeezes of the trigger that sent an equal number of glittering shells towards the Sewer Dragon boat. The first two missed, but the other three were dead on. One even slugged one of the Dragons in the arm, and, when the shell burst, it glued him to the deck. His pals werent too pleased with that. Fuck! I shouted as I felt a dozen little pinpricks across my chest. The heavier gun was firing as if ammo werent a concern, and I winced as it left little pinholes all across the surface of the pontoon. Dipping to one knee, I let go of my Icarus so it dangled by my side and reached for my Trench Maker, then I paused. That did use an explosive to fire, didnt it? Myalis, rails? Entirely safe. My railguns deployed from over my shoulder and my vision filled with twin reticles that I locked onto the ships rear, about where I figured the pilot was. Two thumps tugged my shoulders back as a pair of railgun rounds shot out and punched a pair of holes into the hull. Didnt seem to do much. Dammit! I shouted. This is so fucking cool, Rac said. You''re taking on water, Franny replied. I blinked, then looked down. The nun was rightthe bottom of the boat was filling with sludge, some of it pouring through the holes in the floor. Our pontoon was starting to fill up. Shit, I said. Gom! Ram them! Were taking their boat. Were what? Gomorrah asked. I moved up, a foot on the edge bent so Id be ready to jump. Were going pirate! I shouted back. Then, as Gomorrah veered us into the other boats path, I jumped. *** Chapter Twenty-Two - Piracy Across the Shitty Seas Chapter Twenty-Two - Piracy Across the Shitty Seas Chapter Twenty-Two - Piracy Across the Shitty Seas It cant just be about choosing people who arent asses. Theres something else to it. I dont know what it is though. The numbers are hard to grab, but its something like ninety percent of all samurai who turn around and start fighting to help people, but only in a very narrow, select way that wont entirely destabilize society at large. Selection bias is a factor, sure, but there has to be more to it than that. We ran the numbers, entering every last bit of information we could about people, and we have access to their media feeds. The best our machine learning algorithms could pull up was some weird correlation between time spent reading on the shitter and people who become samurai. Its not just about people with a certain mindset. People are too mutable. Theres something else at play, and I cant figure out what it is. --Intercepted message between CIA analysts, 2024Upstodatee from *** I was never very acrobatic. For that matter, I was never all that strong either. Fortunately, I had badass power armour to make up for some of my deficiencies. My jump over the edge of the boat wasnt perfect. A larger wave and maybe some faster reactions from the pilot, and theres no way I would have made it aboard. As it was, I banged both shins on the edge of the boat and rolled forwards into it. I was pitched to the bottom, but I tucked at the last moment and landed shoulder-first, which meant I could roll and crash onto the bottom back-first. Which left me near the pointed front of the boat, on my back, between the legs of the two Sewer Dragons that werent glued down. The one on the big mounted turret swung his gun around to point at me, only for the gun to stop before reaching the angle needed to shoot me. It couldnt depress low enough. I didnt have any such issues as I kicked out, heel-first, and rammed him in the shin hard enough that I heard something snap. His pant leg tore and a metallic bar pierced through the tough fabric where his obviously prosthetic leg had broken. He tumbled down onto his ass, the entire boat shifting with the sudden motion. Dragon number two jumped down onto me and grasped for joints in my armour. I think hed done the mental math and figured shooting me wasnt cutting it. Maybe he planned on tossing me overboard? I wrestled with him for a moment until I got one arm free and had enough room to swing a punch into his face. The first made him wobble. The second cracked against his jaw and he went stiff and collapsed onto me. Swearing under my breath, I shoved him to the bottom of the boat, then wobbled onto my feet. The idiot on the ground whod been behind the fixed gun pulled out a small handgun he aimed at my chest. He fired. The bullets went clink-clink. I kicked at him. I intended to hit the gun, but the awful footing and bumpy ride had me kicking higher. I hit him in the wrist. I couldnt hold back a wince as I saw his clearly mechanical hand detach from his arm and go flying overboard. No one was retrieving that anytime soon. Points Reduced from... 10,891 to... 10,881! I reloaded my gun while the boat picked up speed. Then, once that was done, I eyed my map. Myalis was kind enough to mark the route we had to take in green, with the path wed already taken greyed out behind us. Our little adventure so far had taken us about halfway there. Good enough. I moved to the very front of the boat when the noise of something moving up ahead became even louder. I slid down, one knee wedged into the tip of the boat and my Icarus up to my shoulder. I turned on my invisibility. Someone might be able to see my gun, but that was it. Is it always like that? Rac asked. Like what? I asked. You know, running around, scaring the hell out of idiots. Shooting shit? I laughed. Nah. Usually its aliens. Theyre a lot trickier than people. Not that I have a ton of experience, you know. Im not the kind of girl whos had a lot of jobs, but so far, this ones not bad. Good exercise, you get some great perks, visit fascinating new places. I gestured to the shitty tunnels around us. I bet! Thats like, the coolest job ever, Rac said. I shrugged. Its not too bad, honestly. Dangerous, but so far the pays been worth it. You get to save people, you know? Sure, youre putting your neck on the line, but it''s worth it sometimes. Depending on the people youre saving. You think of yourself as a hero? Franny asked. There was surprisingly little judgement there. Nah. Im no hero, I said. The tunnel had a bend ahead, and as we came to it, a pair of speedy little boats came around. They had guys in familiar augs with guns out. I raised my Icarus, lining up the firing arc with the first ship, then fired. Three shots, then I moved on to the next boat and fired again. By the time we crossed them properly, the foam covering the boats was expanding and the two were veering off course and bumping into the walls while their occupants screamed and cursed. Im not a hero, I repeated. Just a girl with a bit of luck, a lot of guns, and... I guess its the willingness not to let good folk get fucked over. Nice speech, Gomorrah said. Can you focus on the road ahead? Yeah, sure, I said. You just dont want us to start talking about your philosophy on the whole samurai thing. What philosophy? Franny asked. I could almost feel the daggers being glared into my back. *** Chapter Twenty-Three - Surprise! Chapter Twenty-Three - Surprise! Chapter Twenty-Three - Surprise! Every generation complains about the music of the next generation. Its just how it works. Older folk dont get new music. But my music? It transcends genre. BeepBoopCore is the future of noise! --Excerpt from an interview with the European samurai Mix, 2031 *** Our trek down sludge line 537 continued uneventfully. Gomorrah didnt want to press us into going too quickly and I was entirely fine with moving along at a slow but steady pace. I kept an eye on the waters ahead and stayed low and out of the way, in case we ran into any surprises. The little green icon that represented us on our map plinked along neatly, moving closer and closer to the intersection where wed be getting off. Junction 6H. A nice, auspicious name, full of history and class. Were getting close, I said. We are, Gomorrah said. The waters different. I glanced back at her, then down to the sludge, which seemed to be the same almost-greenish brown as it had been the entire time. Maybe there were fewer chunks in it? I couldnt recall seeing as many used sanitary pads floating by as before. Still wasnt tempted to take a dip in it. You know, I dont know how to swim, I said. You mention that now? Gomorrah asked. What was I going to do? Buy some floaties? Gomorrah shook her head. I dont know, but Im quite certain theres at least one floatation device available in your catalogues. Or an implant to teach you how to swim, at least. This armours heavy. Im pretty sure Id swim like a brick in this. Also, a teaching implant? You need a small implant in your brain. It connects to... well, your brain. Then you can download some lessons and, over a few hours, theyll teach you something. Its... not exactly pleasant? It feels like being on a sugar high the entire time. You keep getting weird flashes, as if youre... have you ever forgotten something, like it was on the tip of your tongue, then it hit you for a moment, but it wasnt important anymore? Yeah, sure, I said. I cant remember birthdays. Lucys been real miffed about it a few times, when I remember that hers was a week ago and I didnt get her anything. Right, well... I suppose its something like that for a few hours. Mildly annoying, because even as youre doing other things, you keep having stray thoughts that arent exactly yours. But it does work. Huh. Whatve you learned with that so far? I asked. Driving was the big one, Gomorrah said. I havent really invested in any others yet. Theyre on the pricier side. I grimaced. Im a bit cheap, you know. Looks like it, Gomrorah said as she followed. I had to close the entrance door to open the other, which meant Gomorrah and I were practically rubbing shoulders when the shower came on and drizzled water onto us with all the pressure of a drunkard losing his lunch on the sidewalk. I feel very decontaminated, I said when it ended some twenty seconds later. Gomorrah shook herself a little, and I made sure to look her way. For Frannys sake, of course. Its barely lukewarm, she said. I literally have shit on my shins, I swore as I looked down. The splash from the boats, I guessed. It was running off of me in little rivulets. At least the armour was mostly hydrophobic. Opening the second door led us into a small room, a spiral staircase on one side, an industrial elevator with ropes across it on the other. There was a small table with some random crap left on it. Mostly delivery boxes. Do they deliver food down here? I asked, incredulous. People would eat in this place? Gomorrah asked. The air, Myalis said aloud. Is technically breathable in this location. Though I would advise against it. There are several carcinogens, and the ambient levels of oxygen and other life-sustaining chemicals are lower than would be desirable. I nodded. Wont need to tell me twice. I cant imagine the smell here. There were a lot of mask filters in an overflowing trash can to one side, and some small silver bottles in a rack with O2 stenciled on their sides. So this place was more like a refilling station before anyone headed out, then? Or something like that. We need to go up, Gomorrah said. I moved to the stairs and bounced on the first step. It creaked, but it didnt seem as badly rusted as the things on the outside of the tower. Maybe being somewhat airtight had advantages. We climbed up, going around and around until my calves started to burn. I was feeling the exercise in my lungs by the time we reached the next floor up. These Sewer Dragons are probably pretty fit, I muttered. With the amount of prosthetics they have, I doubt that, Gomorrah muttered. Which way now? I asked as I looked around. The next floor up was more of the same. Windows overlooked the sewers below, but judging by the number of pipes in the ceiling, we were still in the thick of things. There were four airlocks around the room. That way, Gomorrah said with a gesture to one of the airlocks. We both got a second terrible shower, this time with a few rare suds in the water. Still not enough water or pressure to do more than make me mildly wet. The second airlock door opened, and something punched me in the chest. I coughed, the air kicked out of my lungs as my armour locked. And then I stumbled and fell on my back. I was suddenly very awake. *** Chapter Twenty-Four - Ingenious Chapter Twenty-Four - Ingenious Chapter Twenty-Four - Ingenious Trash Island is probably the most famous location filled with human waste, but there are other, larger deposits. Notable examples are the Cambodian trash castle, Malaysia, and the Philippines. There are also super-landfills closer to home. Such as Florida. --Wheres the Trash? Death Magazine article, 2046 *** Ouch, I said to the dirty ceiling of the decontamination room. Something banged against my shin, and I folded my knee so that whatever it was could get past. The door closed, and the room thumped as it locked. Cat! Are you okay? I swallowed, then raised my head. Gomorrah was standing next to the heavy door, a hand on the handle. Shed closed it, which, all things considered, was pretty clever. I looked lower, towards my chest. There was something flat and shiny squished under one breast. Reaching over, I tugged at it, then inspected the almost flower-shaped disk that must have been a bullet a moment ago. Oh, I said. Thats what hit me. My armour had a small smear, the paint over that area scuffed. No dents though, which was nice. Are you injured? Gomorrah asked. I dont think so, I said. I climbed onto my elbows. What the fuck was that? A gun. I think its a turretI didnt exactly stop to stare, Gomorrah said. Not the nicest welcome, I said. I cant detect any electronic switches, or any program designed to fire a weapon in the vicinity. Its possible that the trap is entirely mechanical, Myalis said for our benefit. Grunting, I half-turned, then stumbled to my feet as the shower started to spit and gush water back down onto us. Great, I said. Should we try again? You want to get shot again? Gomorrah asked. I chuckled. No. Im standing to the side this time. Gomorrah did the same, stepping back so she was pressed up against the wall. I reached over and tugged the door open, the massive thing creaking even as the water from the decontamination shower finally stopped. Nothing happened. Alright, I said. Myalis, do my shoulder guns have cameras? You should be about sub four, Rac said. Myalis let me play with the map. So youre pretty deep. There are these big mountain and hill bits that reach up from the dirt-ground and all the way up to the underside of the city in some places. Alright, I said. I glanced at my own map, just to have an idea of where we were. There were a lot of corridors ahead, a whole maze of passages, with some ending in elevators that ran up into the sub-basements of the buildings above. We were, if I zoomed out, pretty close to the dead centre of New Montreal, the place with the tallest towers and where the richest folk lived. Our destination was only a couple of hundred metres away, a section filled with small rooms and a few larger areas that might have been factories once. Not necessarily part of the sewers, I didnt think, but connected all the same. At the next door, both Gomorrah and I paused, then looked around for marks and obvious traps. There, Gomorrah said, she spotted the little painted symbols first. Rac, you know what these mean? I asked as I stared at them closer. They looked like... a house, some squiggles, and what might have been a mask? They were blue, blue, and green, respectively. Ive no fucking clue, Rac said. I dont do sewer cant, I do trash cant. So you cant understand these? I asked while restraining a giggle... poorly. Gomorrah sighed. Why do I even put up with you? she muttered while Rac giggled over the line. She reached out and opened the door a notch, then looked around it for triggers. Nothing I can see, she said. I nodded, then took her place behind the door and opened it carefully. Nothing exploded, so that was nice. At least until Myalis piped up. There are lingering traces of... quite a few toxic chemicals in the air. I suspect this airlock is meant to kill anyone using it without the proper precautions. Anything we should worry about? I asked. Atyacus has disabled the air exchange already, Myalis replied. The area past the airlock seems like another short passage, followed by an area with more activity. How much more? I asked. I count twenty-two active augmentations. Any guards? I asked as I stepped in. Myalis took just a second to respond. One augmentation in the next room. The user is currently distracted observing some adult material. I shook my head. Well, lets not interrupt our new pals alone time, I said as I turned on my invisibility. Gomorrah, do you mind if I check out the next area solo? I need to do something with all of this stealth gear. You can back-seat samurai and not-flirt with Franny. Gomorrah sniffed. Fine. Do try not to get yourself shot any more than you need to. You know I dont live a life where people try to not shoot me. Thats how you know youre doing things right. Or very wrong. Youre so terribly wise, she deadpanned. I was grinning as I pushed the door open a crack, then snuck into the next room over. Time to see what was up at last. *** Chapter Twenty-Five - Sneaky Ghillie Lemon Squeezy Chapter Twenty-Five - Sneaky Ghillie Lemon Squeezy Chapter Twenty-Five - Sneaky Ghillie Lemon Squeezy The pornography industry is nearly always at the forefront of technological changes. Video playback, online streaming, VR, augmented reality [...] its not surprising that when new tech became available, alien technology at that, it was immediately put to carnal uses. Also, alien porn was an interesting development for the industry. --Excerpt from an article on , 2023 *** I knew I didnt need to move stealthily in order to not make any noise. My armours boots were silent, and it wasnt like I was wearing some of those cheap nylon clothes that make swishing sounds when they rub together. Still, it would be wrong to casually walk in while stealthed. I kept low, eyes and ears peeled for any trouble, and it didnt take much for me to find some. There was, as Myalis had warned, a guard in the room. He was sitting behind a desk, head bent back, looking towards the ceiling. I could have imagined that he was taking a nap if it werent for Myalis telling me what he was watching at that moment. The jerky movement of his forearms didnt help any. Weirdo, I muttered. At least hes all alone, Rac said. Close your eyes, you, I said. Didnt need her seeing any of this. Myalis, can we just shut off all of his augs? Not being able to see anything might calm the idiot down a notch. Certainly, but shutting down all of them would terminate him. He has respiratory augmentations, and some that assist with blood circulation, likely because of the way his arms and legs were disconnected. Can you be selective? I asked. I navigated through the menus of my cyberwarfare suite, and found a way to connect to his augs. Then I saw a flash of what he was looking at before I shut it off in a hurry. Wow, I muttered. People living in sewers were pretty dirty. That should be easy enough to do. Shutting down all nonessential augmentations in three... two... My new pal jerked on his chair, then looked around. It was pretty clear that he couldnt see anything, though, judging by the way he moved his arm around as if searching for stuff. He bounced to his feet, did up his zipper, then stumbled towards the door at the back. John! John, my eyes have fucked up again! he shouted. I followed him. Yeah. Its safe, got some air, probably water. Bet they can sneak out from a bunch of places too. And its safe. You said that twice, Franny said. Yeah, cause its important, Rac said. Really sucks to have your house blown up, or mowed away by some corp. Or just... taken, you know? You arrive home and you find out some gang needed a place for a lab, so now you need to move out. Snot fun. Hey, youll be fine from now on, you know, I said. Rac was silent for a long while. Thanks, she said at last. But, uh, I dont need charity. I can look out for myself. Sure, I said. But I look out for my friends, so youll have to deal. She chuckled, and I figured Id have a hard time convincing her to be anything like one of the kittens. The bottom floor wasnt all that weird. Cement walls made more cramped by boxes and crates and stacks of those plastic pallets used to carry stuff around. Some enterprising people had stacked them in such a way as to create little cubby-holes where they could sleep, but otherwise, there really wasnt much worth poking at. One guy was sitting at a desk, an IV tube poking out of his jacket and connected to a syringe that he was slowly, ever so slowly, plunging down. Judging by the way he was twitching every few seconds, whatever he was juicing himself with wasnt healthy. I left him to it. There were plenty more Sewer Dragons in the rooms here and there, most of them sleeping, but a few were gesturing in the air as though working through media feeds. They could have been any number of people Id seen waiting on the sides of stores and streetsbackground people minding their own business. Except these were in some fucky underground pit, and none of them had much of their original bodies left. At the end of the corridor was a large door. It had a wheel in its middle, and, strangely enough, a bunch of wires running across it. Is that a trap? I asked. Its not live, Gomorrah said. Look, bottom left: theres nothing at the end of the wire. Huh, I said as I knelt down and stared. The wires were bare in some spots, but still in their plastic sheaths in others. What is it? I suspect that its a rudimentary faraday cage, Myalis said. The things that make it hard to connect to the internet? I asked. A few stores had them. You needed to use the local wifi or nothing at all. That way they could datamine you while you shopped. Makes sense, Franny said, if thats where theyre keeping the people they kidnapped. Well then, I said. I gripped the wheel and spun. If anyone heard, I had plenty of ammo to tell them to calm down. *** Chapter Twenty-Six - Bip Bap Bam Chapter Twenty-Six - Bip Bap Bam Here at CAGE--a subsidiary of ImmigraTech!--we do our very best to ensure all beings captured while attempting illegal border crossings are treated humanely and with the care and attention they deserve. Our state-of-the-art housing and lockdown facilities guarantee that cases of physical harm, sexual harm, suicide, and child mismanagement are kept to a tolerable minimum, while also encouraging and re-educating any future citizens on the benefits of joining the workforce of any corporation looking for new employees! --The Collateral Acquisition and Gatekeeping Enforcement Handbook, Page 759, 2048 Edition. *** I grunted as I shoved the door aside. The folk who made it probably wouldnt be happy Id jammed a hand against the Faraday netting and fucked it up, but then I didnt really care all that much about those folk. The corridor past the doorway led to a bright room with a ceiling five metres up. It was pretty wide too, and I assumed it was just as deep. I glanced at my map, but it didnt match what was there at all. Someone had gone around and modified the room a good deal. Not too surprising. The walls were entirely white, that kind of near-fluorescent white they painted on asphalt. Combined with the dozens of lights hanging from the ceiling, it made for a room that might have been too bright to look at if it werent for the visor on my helmet darkening itself. The walls were covered in wired mesh, or at least the exterior walls. In the centre of the room were some enclosures. Just walls without any roofs, and with one door leading in. What do you think? I asked. Looks like a cage, for people, Gomorrah said. Like something youd see at the borders. Yeah, I said. I guess we mightve found our missing people. I moved over to the doorway and fiddled with the latch keeping it shut. It was a rusty metal bar, nothing fancy, but likely enough to keep anyone without tools or good leverage from breaking through. I pushed the door open and peeked past it. There was a small room, with a fridge, of all things, and a second gate, this one made of fencing mesh. A table, with some trays stacked on it and a microwave on the end, sat off to one side. Likely for food, Gomorrah said. To feed their prisoners. The fridge was filled to the brim with cheap microwavable meals that anyone could afford. Mostly flavoured cardboard and some cheap vat-grown veggies. The brownies always tasted good though. I moved over to the next door and unlocked it. The enclosure was split down the middle. One large cage on the left, another on the right. Shit, I muttered. The folk we were looking for were there. Some of them, at least. Poor, decrepit people, lounging on the floor, some sleeping, others huddled against the walls. A few were pacing back and forth. Theyd at least had the common decency to split them up, men on one side, women on the other. Ill do what I can, Shaun said. He stood a little taller, some of the wariness leaving him. Good man, I said. Did they tell you anything about where they were bringing the others? They mentioned a Doctor Hack. Ive been trying to send messages out every time they open the door, but the signal down here is trash. Doc Hack again, huh. Right, hold tight, Shaun. I backed up and moved to the gate to swing it open wider. Gom, got a plan? Something of a plan, yes, Gomorrah said. Its going to require your explosives. My eyebrows perked. Im listening real hard, I said. Were currently under some buildings. There are a lot of access and maintenance corridors above this level. Getting to them naturally requires navigating a maze, and I bet half of it is trapped, but at some places the floors are right above. So we blow up the ceiling and just keep bursting onto the floor above until we see the sun? Were maybe four floors below street level here, Gomorrah said. Theres a stairwell two floors up that leads right to the ground floor of what looks like an office building. Great, I said. I reached down to my thigh and unholstered my Trench Maker. Let me give these folk an inspirational speech, then we can get a move on. Oh, I cant wait to hear this, Franny muttered. I sniffed. Someone was doubting my ability to give a good speech. I was about to start talking shit when I heard the rooms heavy door creaking open. Someone opened the door, a voice said from outside of the enclosure. Two sets of feet ran over, and I backed away from the entrance so I was in the middle of the passageway when a pair of Sewer Dragons burst onto the scene. They had rifles tucked close to their sides, and had their heads on a swivel looking for escaped prisoners. Their arrival woke people up, had them paying attention again. Which was great for me. I raised my Trench Maker and pointed it at the face of the nearest Sewer Dragon. They both stared at the very much not-invisible gun. What the fuck? the Sewer Dragon asked. I answered by shooting him in the face, the bullet impacting with a meaty thump followed by a sparking electrical discharge. He hit the ground writhing with wild twitches. Oh shi-- his buddy said. I hit him twice in the face. I lowered my handgun, noticed all the people starting at it, then flicked off my invisibility. Alright, yall motherfuckers, listen to me. Im about to save all of your asses, but only if youre real good about following orders. *** Chapter Twenty-Seven - A Good Job Chapter Twenty-Seven - A Good Job Chapter Twenty-Seven - A Good Job Fashion, the ever-changing monster. Trends come and go all the time, but theres no doubt that the current meta involves integrating the tech necessary to living into your apparel. Accessories are the name of the game now.Fi?ndd new updates at novelhall.com Nothing encapsulates that more than the samurai, who by necessity, tend to be normal people under all the gear. So, of course, we emulate and copy that very same equipment, that aesthetic. --Coco Model, Memoires on The Changes, a 2045 autobiography. *** Gomorrah, I think I might need a distraction on the far end of this place, I said. The map with the path Gomorrah had given me was relatively simple. I had to take these people out of this place and to one of the rooms just down the corridor leading here. That would mean that for a good stretch of the way, anyone on the floor above would be able to see the kidnapped people, not to mention anyone on the bottom-most floor. Then I had to blow apart a wall once inside that room, which would likely wake anyone who wasnt already up. The noise of dozens of people moving by wouldnt help. While I considered my options, I moved over to the nearest door and looked at the padlock keeping it shut. It was a big thing, all heavy steel with a metal loop as thick as my thumb. Id need something to blow it up. That guy has the keys, Shaun said. He was pointing to one of the Sewer Dragons who was busy twitching on the ground behind me. Oh, thats nice, I said. I scooped the keys out of the guys jacket pocket, and then fiddled with the lock. Alright, Shaun, I need you to keep an eye on everyone here. Youre going to stay in this room for the next five minutes or so. If any of you know how to handle a weapon, then theres two shit guns on the floor there. A bit dirty but Im sure they work. Where will you be? Shaun asked. Me? Im going to be just down the corridor doing a bit of remodelling. If you hear gunshots and explosions, thats because its working. Alright? Shaun said. He didnt sound entirely onboard with everything. He was probably a bit too normal to be used to the speed at which samurai worked. The lock came apart with a satisfying clunk and I tossed it to the side before walking over to the other side. The women were climbing to their feet, some of them helping the others. There was an air of cautious optimism. Were saved, oh thank the saints were saved, one woman was muttering to herself while worrying her hands together. I undid the last padlock and let it fall. Okay. Everyone, follow Shaun over there. My partner and I, another samurai, will be making a lot of noise. When I come and get you, move fast, and keep your heads low. I moved into that little room at the entrance of the enclosures while turning on my invisibility. I caught a few gasps as I disappeared, then the sound of the gates opening and people shuffling out, slow and cautious. Gomorrah? I asked as I headed over to the bulkhead. The two who entered had closed it behind them. Im standing by the entrance, Gomorrah said. Ive glued down your chronic masturbator friend. He decided to return to his post. Gomorrah came down the stairs two at a time, then searched the passage for things to shoot at. Ill keep it safe, she said. I nodded as I swung past her and into the room that was soon going to get an expansion. It was an office space, of sorts. A few computers here and there, a small bookshelf with old-school paper books. Lots of spectacularly terrible wire management, with cords strew across the floor. So, the back wall, I muttered. A glance at the wire-mesh map showed that there was about ten centimetres of cement between the wall and a room on the other side, one that was a bit higher up than this room. Myalis, I need something thatll blow this wall apart. You cant imagine how many options that leaves you with. Ah, lets go for something old-school? Certainly. New Purchase: Remote Detonated Plastic Explosive Points Reduced from... 10,881 to... 10,880! Cheap, I said as I picked up the little box that appeared by my feet. There was a small disk inside, with a plastic-y thing in its middle that had a few small lights. My augs connected to it and gave me a new menu with a few options. I toggled on the click to detonate then pressed it to the wall. It stuck fast. I decided not to stand next to the explosive as it went off, because I liked my remaining limbs and Lucy would be miffed. Stepping out of the room, I moved closer to Gomorrahs side. She was next to the bulkhead door. Is it done? she asked. I glanced back, then selected the detonate option on my augs menu. The ground shook and there was a nice bassy bang. Dust shot out of the doorway leading into the freshly renovated room. It is now, I said. I kind of regretted not being able to see that, but I could imagine it well enough. In that case, Gomorrah said. Lets get people moving. We still have quite a few people unaccounted for. I think, for those, well need to find Doc Hack and ask him some questions. The fun sort. That can wait until the people we can save now are safe, Gomorrah said. I glanced around at all the Sewer Dragons currently stuck to the floors and walls and to each other. One of them had their arm sticking out of the white foam, so they gave us the middle finger. I love my job, I muttered. *** Chapter Twenty-Eight - Stepping Up and Out Chapter Twenty-Eight - Stepping Up and Out Chapter Twenty-Eight - Stepping Up and Out Air filtration technology has changed significantly in the past decades. Most of this change was pushed by the increasing need for unpolluted, pure air that wont ruin your lungs and fill your brain with lead and mercury. Its why HVAC specialists are some of the best paid people in the infrastructure industry. --Extract from What to be When You Grow Up! a job-guide pamphlet, 2056 *** The civvies in the enclosure looked ready to go, or as ready to go as a dozen under-fed, slightly traumatized civilians could be under the circumstances. Shaun had one of the guns hanging by his hip, and I noticed the other was in the arms of a young woman who looked tense enough I figured shed jump and shoot at the first thing she saw. I didnt ask about the two Sewer Dragons that had been left in one of the enclosures. I suspected theyd been used to bleed off some unhealthy emotions. I stepped back from the enclosure, flicked off my invisibility, then walked back in, making sure to rattle the gates a bit. Didnt need to freak anyone out. Hey, I said as I walked in. I had a lot of eyes on me. Somehow, knowing they saw me as some sort of saviour made the tension of so many people looking at me worse. Cat, Shaun said. I think were ready to move. I scanned the group. A few looked rough. Some of them, I imagined, were going through withdrawal or hadn''t taken the meds they needed, but they were all on their feet. Was it better to heal them up now, or move out and take care of them outside? Were going to move now. Well be using the buddy system. Find someone, and stay next to them. If anyones injured, well pair them with somebody in better shape, I said. I couldnt sound uncertain. If convincing these people to move was anything like herding my kittens, then hesitation would mean trouble for me. We can do that, Shaun said. He moved back, tapping shoulders and telling people to partner up. It was nice having someone who could help while I just did my best to look cool. How are things coming along? Gomorrah asked. Fine on my end, I said. Well be out in a minute or two. A lot of normal folk, and some of them haven''t enjoyed the Sewer Dragons five-star treatment. Understood, Gomorrah said. Once everyone was partnered up, I nodded and then gestured to the exit. Theres another samurai out there. The girl with the big flamethrower. Shes on our side. Anyone else you see isnt. I spun around and led them out. I kept myself visible too. Theyd need someone to see, someone to reassure them they were safe. It was often like that with the kittens too. If one of them got hurt, it helped to see someone nearby who could keep them safe. We moved into the corridor and I noticed the folk behind me slowing down. Were they afraid of leaving the enclosure room? Gomorrah stood nearby, a leg shaking with obvious impatience. I checked out the room you cleared. Its safe. Cool, I said. Want to take the front, or the rear? Well, what do you want to do? I asked. We could contact local law enforcement, Gomorrah said. The cops? What in the world would they do to help? Shoot the minorities and the poor? I dont know if you noticed, but none of these people are upper-class white men. Gomorrah sighed. Youre not used to dealing with the police from the position youre in. Youll find that theyre very polite and helpful to anyone whos a samurai. Theyll help. EMTs as well. They can write off the losses easily enough. I didnt like it, but... Gomorrah hadn''t steered me wrong yet. Alright, but you call them. Im liable to toss in a few slurs too many. Dont need the cops that show up to be angry because I kept calling them pigs or something. Sure,Gomorrah said. I glanced back. We were at the first set of stairs wed need to climb. So far everyone seemed fine. If anything, moving around might have made them feel a little better. I started to jog ahead. The power armour made the stairs easier to climb, and if we were going to run into any traps, I wanted to be the one to trigger them. I wasnt invincible, but I was a damn sight harder to kill than the people behind me. There werent any traps, just more corridors and passages, with a few doors to barge through along the way. Gomorrah didnt notice anyone following us, and neither of our AI caught any interesting chatter. In the span of thirty minutes, we were out of the maintenance areas and into a plainer corridor, one with beige walls and fluorescent lights. An old lady with a few bags, likely heading home, stared at us as we moved past to the double doors at the end. Outside. I stepped onto the sidewalk, then took a few steps forward so I was under the warm glow of the morning sun. Cars zipped overhead, and a few self-driving trucks rumbled by on the road. Oh, this is nice, I said. Lady, you fuckin reek, a hobo said from his spot on the ground. Get fucked, I replied with all due respect. There were giggles and a few hearty laughs as the folk behind me poured out onto the street, then Gomorrah followed them and nodded to me. EMTs should be here within five, police two or three minutes after them. Should we wait? I asked. She shrugged. If you want. I think it would be wise. Cool. I pointed to a fire hydrant. Im going to pop that open, then stand in the water. I... might join you, Gomorrah said. *** Chapter Twenty-Nine - The Popo Chapter Twenty-Nine - The Popo Chapter Twenty-Nine - The Popo Most inner-city police forces can be divided into four broad categories. These might overlap, being controlled by the same corporations, or they might be their own entities. This depends on the city, or even the area within a city. Detectives: charged with solving crimes in the way best suited for the entity they work for. Beat Cops: charged with keeping the peace and solving low-level disputes. Max Tactical: charged with high-stakes, high-risk situations. Often similar to mercenaries or paramilitary groups in appearance, equipment, and policy. Traffic: charged with keeping the peace in the air and on the roads. Knowing how to approach each of these is what this pamphlet aims to teach you! --A Good Citizens Guide to Your Armed Protectors! 2023 *** Uh, maam? I opened my eyes and looked around. It was hard to see, on account of the wall of water splashing against my front with enough pressure to send a normal, non-power-armoured person flying back. I knew I wasnt the only one benefiting from the splashing water. The civilians wed saved took turns standing nearby, allowing the spray to wash off some of the grime. It left them wet and even more bedraggled than they had been, but at least they were clean. Gomorrah had used the hydrant water to clean herself off too. I think her suit was just as hydrophobic as my own. I was just standing there because there was something very enjoyable about the noise and feel of so much water beating against me. Maam? I sighed and turned to the man calling out for me. A police officer, with a blue uniform on and white body armour over his chest, legs, and arms, made of hard plastic and likely reinforced enough to take a low-calibre shot or two. A beat cop. The sort with an uncovered face and who carried no more than a handgun. Not a tactical police officer, or a detective; just a normal, almost-friendly face that would only beat up minorities, the homeless, and likely his wife.Ne/w novel chapters are published at novelhall.com Stepping to the side, I let the water move past to bathe the sidewalk and clean it off for the first time since... likely forever. Yes? I asked as I dripped water like a cat pulled out of a tub. The officer shifted on the spot. His trousers were wet up to the shins. We wanted some direction, maam, he said with a gesture behind him. The side of the street was a busy place today. Some six or so paramedic vans were parked half-onto the sidewalk, their large turbines humming as they idled, and the auto-turrets mounted above them scanned the street for potential threats. The police cars were parked in a semi-circle around the area, lights strobing red and blue and sirens blaring with the occasional pause for an audio advertisement. The few hobos hanging around the street were long gone. This many cops in one place was bad for their business. Yeah, this food is kickass, Rac said. But Im going to need to use a washroom sooner or later, you know? Ah, Gomorrah said. Is your awesome car not equipped with an in-built bathroom? I asked. She smacked me in the stomach with the back of her hand. Dont be an idiot, Cat. I can have the Fury move. There has to be a restaurant or a gas station somewhere in the area. Right, thatll give Franny her walk too, I said. Stick together, dont get kidnapped, and... the Fury is armed, right? Obviously. Then let the Fury do any shooting if it comes to that, I said. Well be diving back down into the shithole again. Youre going to find that Doc Hack guy? Rac asked. Thats the plan, I said. He seems linked to everything else, somehow. Im hoping it wont be too hard to figure out where hes hiding. Atyacus has a location for his base, Gomorrah said. A few of the Sewer Dragons we took out had it marked on their augs. Not the best information security, that, but I suppose it made sense. They had so many other things keeping their home under the city safe that hiding things probably felt like overkill to them. Myalis added the location to my own map, a red box a few blocks away and maybe six floors down from ground level. Can we reach that from above? I asked. Instead of navigating through the sewers again. We can, Gomorrah said. Fancy a bit of a walk? Id rather walk here than in the sewers again. In fact, I think Ive spent enough time in the sewers that Im good for the rest of my life. We could ride along with the police. Im sure they wouldnt mind. And have every cop watcher in the neighbourhood tell the Dragons were coming? Nah, lets walk over. No one will pay attention to a single person walking on street level. Going invisible on me again? I shrugged, then flickered away from visibility. It makes things easier. Gomorrah started walking along the sidewalk, undisturbed by any of the cops or the EMTs who were busy wrapping things up. It felt as if we needed some background music. I bet there were samurai out there who had that sort of thing all figured out. Maybe Cause Player? It sounded like something hed do. *** Chapter Thirty - Bypass Chapter Thirty - Bypass Chapter Thirty - Bypass How many times do I have to repeat myself? Dont antagonize the nutjobs with literal aliens in their heads and very large guns! Its like you people want to die! -Former CFO of Nimbletainment after the July 2044 incident. *** Our trek across the city was uneventful. Unexpectedly so. Maybe it was the way Gomorrah was dressed. In full, high-tech gear, her flamethrower hanging close by her side. Maybe it was the way she was walking, as if she owned the damn place. Or maybe anyone that would cause trouble knew something was going on and they all just collectively decided to mind their own damned business for the morning. It was still super damned early. I didnt think Id ever gone out at this hour to cause trouble. I guessed that troublemakers werent the sort to wake up at the crack of dawn. From the ground, it was hard to tell which tower housed the rich and affluent, and which was built to make them richer and more affluent. They were all the same lifeless grey, with the occasional splash of colourgraffiti and painted rebellion that hadnt been wiped out by the automated sweepers yet. The nearest entrance to the sewers might be off-limits, Gomorrah said. I shook myself out of my daydreams. Whys that? I asked. A glance at my own map indicated we were getting closer to the building where we could get to the sewers from the basement. It didnt seem different to any of the others around it. The entire bottom half of the building is owned by a pharmaceutical. They make drugs there, and the security is pretty tight. So we ask them nicely to let us into the sewers. Its not like were there to steal their overpriced insulin or whatever, I said. They might not be so understanding, Gomorrah said. I blinked. The fucking cops were willing to play nice with us. Why wouldnt some legal pill-pushers do the same? Gomorrah gestured vaguely ahead. Theyre hardasses. I think Ive heard other samurai complain about them before. The thing is, its the one industry thats well backed by samurai. Easy money, and all the company needs to do is produce some drugs for cheap. Yeah, I dont get it. A lot of samurai sold the recipes for meds to these big companies. They expect the companies to sell them, almost at cost. That means curing people of a lot of things relatively cheaply. Its why were not going through the twelfth iteration of some plague. Those same companies use that backing to sell their own drugs on the side. Its a big industry, with plenty of cash to be made. And because theyre basically helped by samurai, they think they can just do whatever? Not whatever, Gomorrah said. But they might try to flex a little if we dont approach things the right way. Looks safe enough, I said. Gomorrah stepped in, head tilted back as she looked around the place, then she focused on the guard. Welcome, we wish to know wh-- I need access to your maintenance sub-levels, Gomorrah said. Specifically, sub-level three. Ah, the security stooge said. Maam, do you have the right building? Obviously, Gomorrah said. We cant just let anyone into our sub-basements, you understand, he said. His tone had shifted, turning from confused corpo spokesidiot to male Karen with some perceived reason to be offended. Good, you can lead me there, then, Gomorrah said. Of course, that was when the idiots idiot friends ran out of the security room at the back and lined up behind him. A full dozen guards, in heavy armour with obvious servos and pistons and artificial muscles keeping everything working. They had guns that looked like they were torn off the side of helicopters and their helmets glowed from within. The fuckers meant business. I dont need twelve escorts, Gomorrah said. To me, she added, I dont know if I can take all of these guards, you know. Maam, I will have to ask that you leave our property. I walked up to the Karen, my new pal, and turned off my invisibility with my face an inch from his. His eyes went wide. My samurai friend over there said we needed to get to your basement, I replied in a calm, even tone. As if hed just asked for the manager, and I was the manager. Ah, he said. Who are you? Stray Cat, I replied. Pleasure to meet you, buddy. Im a stealth-specialized samurai. I mostly use explosives. Nice building you have. Was that a, ah, threat? I could be more obvious, if you want. Cat, please dont blow up the building, Gomorrah said. People live around here. Yeah, yeah, I said. I stepped back from the Karen. Ill be on my way down then. I flicked my invisibility back on, then, just to be sure, walked past the row of guards while they glanced around and tried to spot me. Hmm, I can make my way down by myself then, Gomorrah said. I appreciate the greeting. Wait, uh, I mean... *** Chapter Thirty-One - Saying Hello to the Good Doctor Chapter Thirty-One - Saying Hello to the Good Doctor Chapter Thirty-One - Saying Hello to the Good Doctor You want to be doctor? Get real medical degree! Cheap! Six easy paiments! --A pop-up ad on the University of New Montreal homepage, 2027 *** We dont have far to go, I said as we walked down yet another maintenance corridor. It was becoming a habit to spend time in cramped spaces with a bunch of pipes and terrible ventilation. At least it was better than the actual sewers, though not by much. How do you want to do this? Gomorrah asked. The way I see it, we have a few potential approaches. Doc Hacks... I cant believe thats their name. Im called Stray Cat and youre named after a city, I said. Glass stones. Glass... the expression is casting stones from a glass house. Theres nothing about glass stones, Gomorrah said. I shrugged. Sure. I just figured stones made of glass would suck to deal with. All that shrapnel, you know? I suppose, Gomorrah said. Were getting off-topic. Right, you want to know how to deal with Doc Hack? I asked. More like I want to know how well reach him. Hes not terribly far from here. A couple of levels down. But the route to get to his... lab, I suppose, isnt exactly straightforward. She wasnt wrong. The fastest path Myalis had outlined involved going into the sewers again, travelling uphill a ways, cutting into a maintenance elevator, then up to the level where Doc Hack was from below. Are you thinking what Im thinking? I asked. Are you imagining unreasonably powerful explosives being used in confined spaces in defiance of all common sense? I nodded. I wasnt going to say it with such a negative tone, but essentially that, yeah. Gomorrah nodded, and my map flickered as it updated. Our path now went through two floors as if there werent several feet of concrete in the way. We should be able to bypass any traps if we demolish our way to the heart of the enemys installation. I think its our big advantage in fighting a foe that wants to use the terrain against us. I like it, I said. New Purchase: Shaped Burn-Through Charge Points Reduced from... 10,870 to... 10,865! The box that appeared next to me had a well-folded cord within it, as well as a small brick that the cord was connected to at both ends. I pulled it out and stared for a second before catching on. I started to lay the cord down in a circle on the ground. The detonator goes in the centre. I nodded and placed the brick in the middle, the black-ropy cord coming out of it and forming a loop on the ground that was about the size of a proper manhole. Should we move over to the next room? I asked. That is not necessary. This will burn rather than explode, and the amount of light produced, while dangerous to the naked eye, wont harm you as long as you dont remove your helmet. Gomorrahs equipment is likewise sufficient to keep her safe. Though I would strongly advise not standing on the hole youve marked, or touching the wire with any limbs you intend to keep. I nodded and backed up a good few metres, just in case. Gomorrah, the more cautious one between us, stood even further back. I found the controls for the detonator in my aug menus and tapped the Detonate button with great relish. The room lit up, the lights hanging from the ceiling entirely eclipsed by the burst of light on the ground. A rough circle of light burned, tracing the path Id laid to cord on. I blinked just as the brick in the centre blew up with a low whump. The floor caved in, the circle cracking in half and falling down and out of sight even as the cord winked out and left us in the comparative darkness of the corridor. Well then, I said. Ladies first? Gomorrah stared at me. Youre a woman, last I checked. I grinned. So youre saying youve been checking me out? Besides, youre a lot fleshier than I am, so technically youre a little bit more lady, arent you? You have a very strange mind. And no, thats not a compliment, Gomorrah said as she stepped past. She levelled her flamethrower at the hole and peered within, then she tapped the edge with her foot. Cool already. How can you tell? I asked. There was no way her boots were thin enough to let her feel the ground. Heat-vision, she muttered before dropping into the hole with a little hop. I moved over to the edge, then stared down. That was deeper than I was comfortable leaping, so I sat myself on the edge of the hole and scooted forward until I dropped. The servos in my armours knees bent with a hiss I felt rather than heard. Dark in here, I muttered. Come on, we need to do the same trick all over again, Gomorrah said. And then we can say hello to the good doctor. Chapter Thirty-Two - The Doctor’s In the House Chapter Thirty-Two - The Doctor¡¯s In the House Chapter Thirty-Two - The Doctors In the House There are hundreds of ways the installation of an augmentation can go wrong. You get these backyard non-companies thatll do installs for cheap, but half the time you dont get what you paid for. Then theres stuff like infections, both physical and malware, piracy things. Some folk, and its not just girls, will be put to sleep for a simple op and wake up in some underground black market. Im not a company shill. I dont give half a fuck where you get your augs. Just get them from a reputable source. --Writeit LifeProTips board, 2047 *** Were one level up, Gomorrah said. Another hole through the floor? I glanced around the room wed burst into. I couldnt see much until my helmets visor adjusted for the near-darkness, buy my ears let me feel the room just fine. It was a storage room... maybe? It was hard to tell, exactly. Yeah, we... I paused, ears twitching within my helmet. Raising a hand, I made the universal one second gesture and shuffled over towards the far end of the room. There was a door there, one that, according to the maps Myalis had laid out for me, would lead into a passageway connecting a bunch of smaller rooms together. Our next push down was meant to be a couple of rooms over, where wed be dropping right into the spot Doc Hack had his lab. What is it? Gomorrah whispered. We were still talking over our coms, but I guessed that kind of habit didnt die. Theres noise in the next room over, I said. Once I was next to the door, I leaned down and brought my head closer. The sounds were mechanical. Something like a grinder, whirling and... grinding at something. There were other sounds too: air hissing through something, the gurgle of water, and the constant beeping of what had to be some sort of medical device. Gomorrah stepped closer, boots crunching through the floor bits wed blown up. I think the next room over is Docs place, I said. They mightve done some renovating. Then the place isnt going to be the size and shape we expect it to be, Gomorrah said. I dont know about you all, Raccoon said. But I was thinking evil bad-guy lair. Like in one of those movies. I wasnt going to admit it, but I had the same idea. Well just have to see, I muttered as I reached up to the door handle and carefully, slowly, spun it around. The door wasnt locked, and the reason why became clear enough as soon as I peeked through. Doc Hacks lab was a messy, uneven room, mostly rectangular, but with segments to the sides that didnt mirror their opposites. Obviously, theyd torn out walls wherever to make more room. Still, someone had been at least a little clever about it. Large concrete pillars rose up from the ground floor and all the way up to the ceiling. Obvious additions to keep things from collapsing down. The space past the door wasnt all that big. A segment of floor maybe a metre wide, with no rails to the side and a fall down two floors of empty space to the ground below. There were some catwalks and multiple levels on the end opposite us, each one reachable by a metal staircase built around one of the pillars. I think were mostly out of sight up here, I whispered. There were lights in the room below, but most of them hung from the ceiling at a level lower than the one we were on; anyone looking up would need to see us in the shadows behind a light. Also, theyd need to be able to see me while I was invisible. I opened the door a little wider after ensuring there wasnt anything connected to it. I didnt want another dollar-store trap going off and alerting everyone. Speak of the devil, Gomorrah muttered. I snapped my head around and searched the ground floor. Three people had just walked in. Two of them were very obviously Sewer Dragons. Metal feet clicked on the concrete floor and they both wore those familiar long coats that hid most of their bodies. One of them had four arms, the second set ending in what looked like a suite of surgical tools. I didnt peg him as Doc Hackthat went to the third guy. Doc Hack was a wide, large fellow who walked with all the grace of a beached whale. He barely fit in the white coat he had hanging over his shoulders, the doctors smock beneath straining. I didnt think it was all fat though. There were some strange angles under there. Modifications? The good doc walked over to one of the baths while his pals moved around the room. Tools came to stand on the other side of the tub, while Four Arms moved to a bench off to the side and sat down with the nonchalance of someone already bored out of their mind. What are his readings? Doc Hack asked. BPs a bit low, the... I decided to assume it was an assistant, said. Anaesthetic is starting to wear off. Give him another... no, best not. Were running out as is. Well have to act fast. Doc Hack leaned over the body in the tub and a clearly mechanical hand snaked out from the sleeve of his coat and smacked the guys face. Wake up, my boy. Hes coming to, the assistant said. I watched as the guys eyes flickered open. What? he asked. He looked around, then started to move. Stay, stay, you shouldnt move just yet, Doc Hack said. Who? Youre that... wheres? The man raised his arms and stared at the stumps. Then he glanced down. What the fuck? What the fuck?! he screamed. I explained it to you already, Doc Hack said, his voice way too fucking calm. We need you. The whole city needs you. Its a delicate machine, and many of its most precious cogs are missing. What the fuck did you do to me! Put them back! Put them back! Now, now, no need to worry, youll have new limbs soon, entirely suited to a whole new biome! A miracle of innovation and science, impossible even a century ago! Where the fuck is my cock?! Right, I said. Votes that we just go full samurai on Doctor Hacks-a-lot down there? Hes disgusting, Franny said. Let me switch to a more flammable fuel, Gomorrah said. That was a yes in my books. *** Chapter Thirty-Three - No Surrender Chapter Thirty-Three - No Surrender Chapter Thirty-Three - No Surrender [...]It is in the opinion of the General Inspector that, without immediate action, the water treatment systems keeping the city functional will fail within six to nine months. This situation is a ticking time bomb. The system currently in place was designed for civilian use, and the number of corporate entities piggy-backing on it is causing shortages, back-ups and pressure issues across the entire mechanism. If we do not immediately begin to repair this damage, this city might soon find itself without water or sewerage. At least the sewage issues will be alleviated once the population no longer has access to Updated chapters at novelhall.com water. --A note to the city council of New Montreal, 2047 *** The first step in my plan, which I was officially dubbing Operation: Fuck the Doc required Gomorrah and I be able to reach the doc so we could, in a figurative sense, fuck him. The problem was that we were three floors up and I didnt trust my power armour that much. Not enough to risk a plunge from this height, at least. We need to get down there, I muttered. Gomorrah stepped next to me, then looked around. Theres a rope right there, she said, pointing. There was a cord, thick steel wire running from the ceiling all the way down to the ground level. It had lights hanging off of it every metre or so. Yeah, I guess I could use that, I said. Like sliding down one of those stripper poles in a firefighter station. Arent you worried you might give yourself friction burns? I asked. Cat... I dont know why you think that something like a rope would be able to burn me, but... I suppose I appreciate the concern, but its not necessary. Fair enough, I said. The rope was a good ways away, definitely out of reach unless I jumped. So I jumped. My cybernetic hand wrapped around the metal cord and clamped shut. The entire thing swung, and me with it, lights rattling below me even as the rope started to screech past and I went from a swing to a barely assisted fall. Falling, I discovered, happened fast. I didnt have much time to react except to point my legs down as I rammed through light housings and sent them clattering down below me. The Doc, his assistant, and the guard jumped up, and the dude in the tub squirmed around to look at the spot where I made my grand entrance. I landed in a crouch, my entire body jarring within my suit, but it didnt hurt. I wouldnt do it for fun, but the suit definitely absorbed the impact. I stood, slow and careful, then faced the doc and his pals. What the fuck? the assistant said. What made the lights fall? I shrugged. People will do some weird shit if you let them. Wouldnt make me shoot him any less. Fair enough, I suppose, Gomorrah conceded. Doc Hack shook his head. No, no, please, let me explain. This placethe sewers, the undergroundit is the beating heart of this city. Its lifeblood pumps through day and night, every moment of the year. And we are the guardians of that heart, just as you are the guardians of humanity. I dont recall chopping people up while guarding humanity, I said. That... that is a failure on my, on our, part, Doc Hack said. He gestured to the rest of the room, but I had the impression he was trying to encompass the entirety of the sewers. We failed to predict the future, to plan for the loss of so many of our members. And now the whole system suffers. Entire sections have been closed down and are being repaired, but in that time, the rest of the heart bleeds. We need more people, more valiant men and women on the front lines, fighting back against the rust and degradation that put the entire city at risk. Wait, wait, I said. Youre trying to get more members? Thats why youre kidnapping people? We will have new, voluntary members as time goes on. We always do. The lost, the homeless, those who, like myself, seek to hide from the oppression of the world above and find solace in the honest work here. But alas, those numbers are slow to come. We need more hands. And you thought youd just grab folk off the streets? I asked. Doc Hack nodded. If we do nothing, the city dies. Already the water systems are falling apart, already the imbalances caused by the loss of entire districts are trickling down to the areas around them. Monsters inhabited the sewers for a time, and though they are gone, you guardians were not gentle in your exterminations. Fucking hell, just put an ad out on the net if you need more workers! Are you so nave that you think people would want to come to a place like this? To become mutilated and defaced? To lose their humanity in order to save this city? Doc Hack asked. He was becoming increasingly louder as he spoke. This is a place of great sacrifice, where none will ever acknowledge the work that is done! Sure, whatever, that doesnt mean you can just... take people. For fucks sake, I said. Who will do the work that needs doing if not us? We dont expect much. We are the liquidators of this city''s filth and the providers of its life! It is thankless, but no one else will do it. End me, and this city crumbles. My analysis suggests that he may be correct. The citys water and sewer infrastructure have been due for an overhaul for nearly a decade. Without that overhaul, and with what little maintenance the system has been receiving so far, it is likely a chain collapse will occur at any moment. The Sewer Dragons seem to be working to postpone this. That doesnt mean we wont do something about this guy. I glanced at the man in the tub before turning my glare to Doc Hack. I... cant allow this kind of thing in my city. You cant allow it? Doc Hack asked. I... might have forgotten to turn off the helmets speakers there. Not.. allow it? Then you would bring ruin to this city and all that weve done to protect it! Doc Hacks jacket burst open and a pair of arms moved out from a mass of metallic limbs, all of them holding onto handguns. Ah, shit, I said. *** Chapter Thirty-Four - The Edge of the Sword Chapter Thirty-Four - The Edge of the Sword Chapter Thirty-Four - The Edge of the Sword Why? Because its cool as shit! --Three Swipes, 2037 *** Things happened fast. Gomorrah opened up with a surge of flames so hot I felt them through my suit. It was a spitting bar of fire wider than a persons head, and it instantly started to melt everything within a metre of it. Doc Hack was just as quick. Three arms tore out from his body and grabbed his assistant to place the poor idiot between the doc and the flames. The man screamed as he cooked. Doc Hack drowned the screams out in return fire, the guns held by three of the arms hed deployed spraying bullets across the lab. There was no grace in the way he fired, just a wild spray of shots that pinged off of empty tubs and cracked into cement pillars. Gomorrah rolled to the side, the wash of her flames ending as easily as it had begun. She hid behind a pillar while weathering the storm. My turn, I supposed. I whipped out my Trench Maker and sighted down the barrel even as my finger squeezed the trigger. Doc Hack looked worse for wear, the front of his smock still alight, but beneath it were layers and layers of prosthetics, all shifting into place. He stumbled back even as thicker, armoured arms rose to intercept my shots. Electrified bullets crashed into steel plates with a snapping buzz and did fuck all. You are making a mistake! Doc Hack roared, his face twisted into a mockery of anger, plastic teeth bared. You dont have room to talk about mistakes, I shot back. The Doc fell onto his rear with a heavy crash. I paused. Was it over? The back of his smock tore apart and long multi-jointed legs slammed into the ground. He started to scuttle backwards. There was only so fast a body that size could move. I grunted and aimed to fire again, then motion caught my attention from the edge of my vision. The guard. He screamed something incoherent and loud as he raised a gun to his hip and fired. I winced back as a trio of shots clattered against my helmet. It rang, but the pain wasnt any worse than being hit with a rolled-up newspaper. Shut up! I shouted at him before putting two in his chest. Cat! Gomorrah called. Hes moving out! I whipped my head around to see Doc Hack slamming through the doors at the end of the lab. I swore and bolted after him, Gomorrah a step behind me. We arrived in a long passageway, the Doc already halfway down it. You would bring this city down with your greed and navety! Doc Hack screamed. I took two steps into the room, then raised my Trench Maker up and fired. Doc Hacks head exploded, plastic and servos flying back. I was the solution to all of your ills! Doc Hack roared. God damn it! I shouted as I started to run and fire centre of mass. I wasnt sure if anything actually hit; I could barely aim standing still. I got him! Gomorrah said. She fell to one knee and raised her flamethrower. I ducked away and activated my railguns. Doc Hack must have seen it coming. Then Ill take the place and burn it down with me! I whipped out my Claw and fired as soon as the reticle was over the bastard. He screamed, for the first time in actual pain, as a spinning blender appeared in his innards. The fire from the grunts distracted me right after. There were six of them, at a quick count, pneumatic rifles in hand. I didnt have time for them. Twisting around, I fired at first one, then another, emptying my Claw into them while my railguns took care of the rest. Doc Hack didnt stick around. I ran to the edge of the room and saw him below. He was boarding a boat, the engine already on, the Sewer Dragon at the wheel throttling up. He would pass right in front of me on his way to some other shithole. The other boats were sinking. No, I growled. I swung forward, fist meeting safety glass with all of the strength and weight of my armour behind it. The glass didnt shatter, but the plates holding it in place did, rusted strips tearing off with a squelch of old rubber as the entire thing fell away and ruined the rooms seal. Myalis, I need a fucking sword. Understood. New Purchase: Fixed Point, Lethal Transition Melee Weaponry Points Reduced from... 10,865 to... 10,815 New Purchase: Class One Void Terminus Hiss Points Reduced from... 10,815 to... 10,715 A sword appeared by my side. I didnt have time to consider how very stupid it was to ask for that, specifically. I was too busy placing a foot on the edge of the ledge created by the missing window. The sword requires an activation phrase to turn on. Do you wish to set one now? I jumped. Doc Hack turned, and I could see his face, his actual face, buried behind prosthetics. Just a pair of eyes, metal grafted to his exposed bones, his mouth nothing more than a tube. His eyes focused on me. I crashed into the boat a metre in front of him, knees bending with the impact even as a tide of shit splashed up around the boat. I grabbed the sword in one hand, the other grabbing the sheath. Fuck, I began. I tore the sword out of its sheath. It was a metal rod, with a few rings along its length. I was confused, but I trusted Myalis. You! I finished. Activation name set. Activating! The sword hissed, like a cat met in a dark alley. The blade snapped into place, a dark bar sucking in the air around it. I swore I could see stars within. I twisted with the swing. The air screamed blade as it moved, a banner trailing after the edge. It touched Doc Hacks side, and he tried to grab at me. It didnt help him. The sword sliced through him in a single swipe, and everywhere it passed, the meat inside Doc Hacks mechanical body was dragged into it. Metal rent and vacuumed into the black edge. Then it was over and I stood there, deck wobbling under me, as Doc Hacks remains fell apart. I saw a piece of his face splash into the shit. A fitting end for him. *** Chapter Thirty-Five - Void Terminus Chapter Thirty-Five - Void Terminus Chapter Thirty-Five - Void Terminus We do what we can. Most of us are hard workers, and youd be hard pressed to find a samurai that wouldnt do some horrible things to keep people safe. Its not just about killing aliens; its about trying to make the world we live in a better place. Some days it feels like were swimming against the current to achieve anything, but on some days things work out. This isnt the nicest world we live in, but damn it, its ours too. --Good Morning New America Interview with Rising Tide, 2034 *** The boat bobbed in the water, and I had to sway with it not to fall ass-first into the shit stream. Once I had my balance I shifted to get a better footing and turned towards the Sewer Dragon piloting the boat. We werent moving, which was probably because the guy was too busy staring at me, wide-eyed. Turn us around and park back at the docks, I said. He glanced past me and down to the lower half of Doc Hacks body that was currently leaking all over the deck. He spun the wheel around and we started to head back. I stared at the blade that Myalis had chosen for me. It had a metal rod at the back, straight, with a sharp cap on the end, and all along that rod, not touching it but almost, was a paper-thin slice of nothing that seemed to be sucking in the air around it with a constant hiss. Deactivating. The black slice disappeared with a snap. What was that? I asked. I swear I saw stars in there. The Void Terminus Hiss is a melee weapon whose main function is to create a temporary rift. Objects entering that rift are transported to a location in empty space. The edges of the rift are, in laymans terms, very sharp. I stared at the sword which was currently just a metal stick. I didnt miss the fact that it had one of those Japanese-looking hilts, with the round guard thing. Though the guard on this one looked like a cats paw, and there was a small plastic cat dangling from a loop at the very bottom, like one of those toys people used to hook onto old-school phones. So... it murders people by teleporting a slice of them elsewhere. Essentially, yes. It is obscenely dangerous, but the requirements for that rift to exist make that particular kind of technology unwieldy and unviable in most combat situations. It so happens that as a melee weapon it is quite lethal. Fucking awesome, I said. If I swear while this thing is dangling by my side, will I cut my own leg off? I will do my best to prevent you from cutting your own limbs off. Though I am merely a millennia-old hyper intelligent machine with unfathomable powers. Theres only so much I can do to counter human idiocy. Youre sassy today, I said. Youve essentially won, as far as I can tell. All that remains is the tedious work of cleaning up and assessing the situation, which I suspect will be somewhat complex. Giving you a moment to relax will help you manage the stress, and for some reason you find insulting banter amusing. There are catalogues designed around that, yes. Though the total point cost to repair the sewer system as it is would exceed the points you and Gomorrah have. To bring the system up to par would cost a prohibitive number of points. Im afraid the Vanguards point system isnt designed for use on that scale. Yeah, I can imagine, I said. Crap, were not equipped for this. You cant take everything on your shoulders, Gomorrah said. I barked a laugh. Trust me, Im good at only caring for me and mine. But this might fuck up the whole city, and me and mine live here. We can tell the government. It is their job to take care of this, Franny said. As if, Rac said. Raccoons right. Theyll panic, then cover their asses, I said. Not everyone is that incompetent, Gomorrah said. Especially when samurai show up at their office and deliver the news personally. After we save the people down here. Right, after, I said. So how do we go about it? Can you check on the people in the lab? Ill question that guard Doc Hack had. The Sewer Dragons have to have some way to communicate. I think we can convince them to bring anyone that wants to be... returned to normal to the lab. And can we do that? I asked. Its easier than fixing the entire sewers, Gomorrah said. But... Im not sure? Maybe? We can at least get them looked at by actual doctors. Right, right, I said. I really wanted to rub my face, but there was armour in the way. Well, nothing for it. Lets get this over with. Gomorrah nodded and shifted her shoulders. Were nearly done, I think. Dont worry, it wont be so bad. I hope not, I said. The patch of corridor that Doc Hack had oh-so-helpfully blown up was now covered in white foam, courtesy of Gomorrah, I guessed. She stepped up before me and crossed a bulbous bridge of the stuff that spanned the gap left in the floor. Ah, shit, were going to need to tell someone about this too, arent we? I asked. At least this part we can blame on Doc Hack... in fact, I think we should blame everything on him. It will make things easier, Gomorrah said. How saintly, Franny shot. Yes, yes, I think thats exactly what it is. *** Chapter Thirty-Six - Wrapping Shit Up Chapter Thirty-Six - Wrapping Shit Up Chapter Thirty-Six - Wrapping Shit Up Its not true. There arent people living underground, its all some bullshit urban legend. Some punk saw a hobo and didnt know better and then when he told his buddies they exaggerated the story. This is Bigfoot all over. Theres no such thing as a sewer dragon. Its stupid. --WriteIt Post, June 2040 *** There was a lot of shit to wrap up, metaphorically speaking. Gomorrah was, somehow, worse than me when it came to sweet-talking folk, so I got the dubious honour of being the one to talk to the people currently stuck in bathtubs with no limbs. It took proving that we were both samurai to convince them to calm down, that and six points worth of alien painkillers. The folk currently pinned to racks were somewhat mobile, though they reminded me of some videos Lucyd shown me of cloned baby giraffes taking their first steps. Awkward and unwieldy, and they tended to crash into everything around them. At least we didnt need to carry them. Doc Hack, as it turned out, had a clever system in place to communicate across the sewers. Morse, transmitted over signals that ran along the network of pipes. I didnt get into the finer details of it, but once Gomorrah figured it out from his stuff, it wasnt hard for her and Atyacus to tap into the entire communication system the Sewer Dragons had. Its simplicity actually served it well. We could swamp it with random data, but there was no real way to hack into a communication system that could be powered by someone with a pair of booster cables and a stolen car battery. Still, Gomorrah managed to get the message across, and before we knew it, Sewer Dragons were congregating. Not at Doc Hacks labthe place was currently a messbut at the Oasis. We left the lab the same way we came in, out the top. Carrying our new limbless friends made that somewhat complicated, but we managed, even if it took well over an hour to trace back a path that had initially taken us ten minutes to walk. By the time we were outdoors and meeting a team of EMTs, I was dead on my feet. And it wasnt over. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Franny swore as she walked closer. We didnt stray far from the entrance of the pharmaceutical building, no matter how much it annoyed the guards. Seeing us come up with the quasi-Sewer Dragons had made an impression, I think. The Fury parked itself right on the sidewalk. Rac and Franny hopped out, the younger of the two with a mouth stained blue by slushie, and stopped half a dozen metres away. You fucking reek, Raccoon said. We do? I asked. I cant actually smell anything. Youre lucky, because if you smelled yourself, youd off yourself like a corpo after too many months of overtime. Rac nodded at her own sage words. I was grinning so hard I think the two in the back thought I was losing my mind. I wanted to keep talking to Lucy, to convince her things really were all right, but Gomorrah pulled into the lot before the Oasis and I had to say goodbye and refocus. Things werent over just yet. There were at least a hundred Sewer Dragons gathered around the front of the Oasis. Unlike last time, Gomorrah parked us in front, the sleek car looking out of place against the cement and rust. You two stay inside, I said. They might not take kindly to what were going to tell them, and I dont want to have to patch up any more bullet holes than I have to today. Im not an idiot, Franny said. I know better than to get in front of an angry mob. The crowd did look pretty mob-like. A lot of the Sewer Dragons were standing there with arms crossed and heads bowed. Plenty had weapons of some form at hand. There was a large group that was standing apart, though. They looked awkward, not just their body language, but the way they moved. They lacked the fluid, almost mechanical grace of the other Sewer Dragons. Our missing people, I guessed. Gomorrah and I stepped out of the Fury and instantly we became the centre of attention. So, you wanna be the one who does the talking, or do I get the honours? I asked. On the one hand, the likelihood of there being a riot rises exponentially if youre the one to talk. On the other, Im... reluctantly weary of public speaking. Really? I asked, glancing over to the nun. She didnt seem shy, at least body language-wise. You have a pretty voice. I dont think the beauty of ones voice matters all that much when it comes to deciding whether or not youre good at orating. That sounded fair. Have you tried imagining them all naked? Have you? she shot back. I looked at the Sewer Dragons, all in their long coats, metal bits shining beneath. A number of them had a nice coating of shit on their pant legs. I imagined the place smelled like a convention held in a pig farm. Tilting my head from side to side, I cracked my neck and stepped up to the edge of the entranceway to the Oasis, right where a few steps led down into the main area with the tents and little shacks the Sewer Dragons had put up. Adjusting the volume on my helmets microphone, I pushed it all the way up. Alright! I said. My voice boomed across the vast concrete hall and I only just managed to hold back a wince. Some of you might have heard of us. Im Stray Cat, this is Gomorrah, and for the past few hours weve been running around your sewers and kicking your asses. I think I had their attention. Now I just had to avoid fucking it all up. We came down here because we learned that a whole lot of people were missing from above. Sewer Dragons were responsible for it, but we wanted to get to the bottom of all that mess and rescue those people. Some of the Sewer Dragons below started to look excited, the unarmed, awkward ones. Doc Hacks dead, I said. He didnt cooperate, so now hes swimming in some pipe somewhere. I know that the city needs you, but that doesnt excuse kidnappings. Well be twisting the governments arm later today to get them to act. I settled my hand over the hilt of my sword. Somehow, that really helped with the nerves. If youre one of the people that was transformed against their will, then gather up here. Well be doing what we can to turn you back. If you want to stay the way you are, then all the best to you. *** Chapter Thirty-Seven - Heading For Greener Pastures Chapter Thirty-Seven - Heading For Greener Pastures Chapter Thirty-Seven - Heading For Greener Pastures The standard 9AM to 5PM workday (with weekends off) proved entirely inefficient as travel time increased and working from home became standard across many industries. Now workers can look forward to daytime work hours that better reflect the needs of modern corporations, such as 8AM to 6PM shifts that occasionally include one day off per week! [...] Your employees are going to kill themselves anyway; might as well make the best of it while theyre still work-capable! Excerpt from A New Standard for a Brighter Future!: How to Make the Best of Workplace Suicides! a Business Outsider article, 2031 *** Im going to be real honest here, I said as I stared out across the crowd. As it turned out, the Sewer Dragons at the Oasis when wed showed up were just those that made it there in time to hear my speech. There was supposed to be something like twenty thousand of them, and I was starting to believe that number. Im listening, Gomorrah said. She was eyeing the crowd. The crowd that didnt stop growing. There had to be five hundred of them by then. I dont want to be here. I gestured to all of the people before usa sea of humanity, despite all of the modifications and prosthetics and the shit. Actually, the shit was pretty human too. I want to go home. We still have a lot of work ahead of us, Gomorrah said.Fo?ll0w current novE?ls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m) I sighed. Yeah, I know. Just complaining. You have the right. I chuckled. I hope so. You know, Ive been a samurai for... has it been four days now? Its been pretty non-stop. Need a break? I pressed my hands into the small of my backit was a bit awkward with the armour therethen I pushed and stretched as best I could. I think I do, I said. Gomorrah shifted her shoulders. I could take care of the rest here. What are you even going to do with this many people? I asked. We promised to help them, and I intend to, but... theres a lot of them. We have the church, Franny piped in. She was still in the Fury with Rac. Things didnt seem dangerous, but still, I didnt exactly trust the people Id spent the morning shooting at and being shot by. The church? Gomorrah repeated. Theyd never accept this many. One or two, certainly. Theres room for this many. We have that entire shelter thing set up to take in refugees. It filled up after the incursion, but I think its nearly empty now. It was temporary housing. Gomorrah tilted her head. Bit creepy, with her mask and suit giving the impression she had a longer neck. That could work, she said. I think we have enough shuttle busses that it wont take too many trips. Theyll stink, I warned. We can set up a decontamination system, Gomorrah said. Huh, I replied. That wont exactly un-fuckerupify these people though. No, but its a better step than leaving them here. I tugged my Trench Maker out and removed the magazine. Myalis, I said. Something with a bang. Some ammo for the Claw too. A box thumped into place on the dash ahead of me and I started to reload. Myalis sent me a text, just the number 10,705. Was she napping or something? Oh, shit, the driver said. Not going to shoot you. Or steal from you or your awesome car, I said. No no, I mean... youre a, ah. Shes a samurai, Rac said, obviously relishing being the one to spill the beans. Our driver nodded and pulled out some wireless earbuds from a pocket. Im going to listen to some audiobooks and shut up now, he said. Clever guy, I said. I could respect someone who didnt stick their neck into trouble. I cocked my Trench Maker and shoved it away, then reloaded my Claw. My railguns still had eighty percent of their ammo, and my Icarus was in Gomorrahs car. Didnt think Id need a grenade launcher to talk to some snobby politician sorts... then again. We moved out of the lower parts of the city and merged into morning traffic. It was approaching seven in the morning, which meant the roads were congested with idiots heading to work. Just fly under them, I said. I dont want this to take all day. Uh, thats... illegal? Yes, and? I asked. Myalis, can you tell any cops or whatever to leave us alone on the way over? That should be easy enough to do. The driver grinned as he flicked off his auto-pilot and darted under the thick columns of air traffic. Always wanted to do this. Fly past all the chumps with an eight-to-six. One of the perks of the job, I said. Then again, that job meant I was fighting monsters in the sewers all night, so eh. Yeah, yeah, he agreed. He was staring ahead, and we werent moving all that fast. I guessed he didnt have Gomorrahs confidence in his own driving, which was probably for the best, actually. I dont think his rust bucket could do what the Fury did with casual ease. We were in the older part of the city, where there were fewer skyscrapers. The buildings were all the fancy expensive sort that law firms and banks used for their headquarters. City hall stood out against those. Old and made of big bricks, with pillars by the entrance. Drop us off at the front, I said. Thats not a parking spot. he said. There were, in fact, large pillars to prevent cars from ramming into the front of the building. A smaller building next to city hall had the entrance to a parking garage in its front. Dont really care, I said. I want to get this over with. Alright then, he said. We shifted down and slid to a lurching stop. Thanks, bud, I said. I transferred the money we owed him, then a generous tip on top of that while opening the door. Rac scrambled out and stood next to me. Come on, Rac, lets do some politics! *** Chapter Thirty-Eight - The Rat and the Hungry Tiger Chapter Thirty-Eight - The Rat and the Hungry Tiger Chapter Thirty-Eight - The Rat and the Hungry Tiger The System started in 2022. Its not really surprising. Well rank anything; its a species-wide fixation. The best car, the highest ranking web-serial, the most popular creators. Give us a dataset, and people will organize it from best to worse. The System is complex though. There are a lot of things to take into account with it, and some of those are very much speculative. Fortunately, we like speculating too! --Documentary except from an interview with the creator of The System, 2029 *** The city halls entrance was a grand and ostentatious place, tax-paid marble, bribe-paid paintings, a few repossessed statues on plinths. It was genuinely nice. Very intimidating. I walked past men and women in suits, who often stopped to stare. I dont know if it was my armour or Racs Racness. It was sort of disappointing that I wasnt making any noise as I moved. It would have been appropriate to clang and clunk with every step. There was a small line before the reception desk, a long counter with inch-thick glass over it and some secretaries behind. Three of them currently served some forty-odd people in three columns. I considered cutting to the front, but that was just rude. I was here to scare big important politicians, and most of those in line looked like normal folk. Middle-class people in their Sunday best, clutching paper documents and staring off into space with the boredom appropriate for someone waiting in line. The woman behind the bullet-proof glass was overweight, her third chin decorated by a couple of gaudy infomercial necklaces, and her eyes was very obviously focused on anything but the man standing before her. Whyre we waiting? Raccoon asked. Because it might make things easier in the long run, I said. I couldnt help but notice the security guards gathering on the edges of the room. They were eyeing me the way a rat might eye a hungry tiger. The guy at the very front moved out of the way, walkin off with a huff. One of the people ahead of us spotted me, then stepped aside and shifted to the next line over. Awfully kind of them. That left us one person behind the front. What? the man asked in a low hiss. The fat woman behind the desk spoke with the low drone of someone who had no shits to give. You brought the document in duplicate, but it needs to be in triplicate, and these are dated for today. The deadline is today, which means that its too late. Isnt it inclusive? the man asked. This is unreasonable! If I dont have this, where will I stay? There is a nine month waiting period for an affordable housing unit. Please see form AF80. Can I help you with anything else? You... argh, he groaned before stomping off. I looked at Rac and she shrugged. I aint ever filled out any paperwork before. Fair enough. I stepped up to the counter. How may I help you? Im looking for... whoevers in charge here, I said. Thats not this department, she replied. Well then, which department would know where the mayors office is? I asked. The guard before me moved to enter the elevator, so I stepped up and grabbed him by the collar. He let out a rather undignified squeak as I lifted him off the ground, then carried him over to the counter, his feet brushing the floor as he kicked out. There was a young secretary-looking guy behind the counter. He wasnt watching any soap operas, but he was filming. I shut off my invisibility, aware of the guns pointed my way by the three other guards. Hi, I said. Id like to make an appointment to speak with the mayor. Uh, the secretary said. Right now, please, I said. Being polite was tiring. Put me down! the guard I was holding up screamed. The other three were shouting too. Fine, I said as I let go of the guard. Tell the mayor that Stray Cat is here to see him. Stray Cat, the secretary said. He looked at something on a nearby screen, and then blanched. Oh. S-stand down, stand down, everyone! he said as he stood, both arms waving up and down. The guards paused in their useless screaming and glanced his way. Miss Stray Cat here is a samurai who is coming to, ah, visit the mayor. I should have opened with that, I muttered. We wouldnt want to insult one of the top fourty thousand, the secretary replied. What? I asked. He blanched even further, if that was at all possible. Its, ah, just your ranking... miss? I frowned. My ranking on what? The ranking? He has a screen opened to a site that ranks Vanguards. Specifically those in the North American continent. You are currently ranked number 48,094. Out of nearly fifty thousand active Vanguards in the region. Your international ranking is significantly worse. Theres rankings? I asked. Based on what?! The system is relatively complex. Active duty time, level of perceived threat, some popularity polls. Huh, I said. Wheres Gomorrah? Currently at 47,947. I frowned harder. And Deus Ex? 2,581st place. The higher rankings move less often. Well... lets go see the mayor and get those rank numbers down, shall we? I asked. Come on Rac, no ones going to hurt you without getting shot right after. *** Chapter Thirty-Nine - Meetingus Interuptus Chapter Thirty-Nine - Meetingus Interuptus Chapter Thirty-Nine - Meetingus Interuptus Cheating? No, no, I would never. My wife and I have been in a loving relationship for nearly a decade nowmore, maybe. Shes the one that tans my hide when I forget the date of our anniversary! Hah! No, Tom, I wont be paying those sorts of accusations any mind. Theyre just a losers attempt to throw dirt on my good name. Now, my competition seem like good folk at first glance, but I think if the wise, voting citizens of our fine city start to dig a little deeper, theyll learn that things arent quite as they seem. Why... --Excerpt from an interview with Mayor Dupont, 2056 *** The secretary jumped out of his seat and darted down the corridor ahead of me. Th-this way, miss, he said. Ive sent a message to the mayor to expect you, but, ah, hes preparing for an important meeting. What about? I asked. We soon took a turn in the passageway and were crossing down the middle of a room filled with cubicles. Office drones were clicking away behind screens, some few leaning back while jacked into the net. Ah, its with the city council? Theres a meeting at ten this morning. I glanced at my aug clock and held back a wince. It was past nine already? At the rate we were going, I wouldnt get to sleep until the afternoon. Whats the meetings agenda? I asked. Is it an emergency meeting? Ah, no? Just an ordinary meeting. Huh, alright, I said. I considered crashing the meeting instead, but we were already here, and there was no way I could just sit around and wait. Maybe I could have planned things a little better, but then, I wasnt all that keen on planning things. The mayor would be... interesting to handle. I didnt know anything about him. I think Id seen his face on some posters slapped onto walls and maybe a few ads between two posts. Hey, wait up! I stopped and glanced over my shoulder. Rac wasnt next to me anymore, and I had no idea when shed moved away. I spotted her a few metres back, tossing aside bits of paper and junk off her shirt. She had a stapler in hand, and there was an office worker staring at her from next to a tipped-over trash can. Whats that? I asked. Stapler. Slightly used. Probably a broken spring or something, Rac said. She stuffed it into one of her bigger pockets, and it clunked against something else she had in there. Then her arm darted out and she added a pen to her collection. That wasnt in the trash, I said. Meh, they wont miss it, she replied. Fair enough. Uh, here, the secretary said. He gestured down at the end of the room. There were some steps leading up to a landing with a mirrored wall beyond that. I bet that it was there so that anyone in the room could overlook their sea of keyboard monkeys. Im Stray Cat, or just Cat. Apparently Im ranked 48,094th most... something samurai, which is really unimpressive. Also, they didnt stop me because of either common sense, or a sense of self-preservation. Toss up, really. The mayor swallowed, eyes widening a moment before they narrowed and his glare reset itself. I dont care if youre the head of the Family itself. You cant just... barge in here! She literally just did, Racoon said. Can I? she asked, pointing with both hands at the wastebasket next to his desk. Whos that? he asked, pointing to Racoon. Thats Raccoon, I said. She, uh, likes trash. Dont ask. Im here to talk. So you broke my door? Thats oak! I thought youd be more pissed because I interrupted your pre-meeting BJ, I said. I would be. Rac stood up, a pair of very lacy underthings held up by a string in her hands. I dont know, fatso here seems to get it on a lot. That, or hes got really small hips. She held the panties out by the band and raised them, as if judging if hed fit in them. Dont touch that, Rac. You dont know where its been. I can guess, she said. I shook my head, then stepped up and pulled out one of the chairs before the mayors desk. Come on, lets sit down. We have a lot to talk about, and I feel like Ive made a bad first impression. The mayor glared for a moment more, then he stepped back and sat down. Im Mayor Dupont, the rightfully elected official in charge of the city of New Montreal, he said. Brilliant, I said. I was hoping that if I started at the top I might be able to get things done. We have a problem, both of us. He eyed me up and down, not in a dirty way, just judging. I imagine it has something to do with the faint odour of shit wafting off of you? Are you guessing? I asked. Because that would be somewhat impressive. No, I received reports that two samurai were causing trouble in the sewers sometime very early this morning. He gestured to me, then Rac. Did he think she was a samurai? She was certainly weird enough. Yeah. A lot of citizens were kidnapped by the Sewer Dragons. No recognition on his face. A gang living in the sewers. They maintained the sewers and kept them running; it also made them somewhat untouchable. Plus, their home is a death trap. Youre using the past tense, he noted. I imagine theyre no longer an issue. Maybe. We freed the civilians theyd taken and... well take care of them, I guess. Therere probably some remnants of the gang down there. Our problem is that they kept the sewers working. And thats our problem? he asked. I like hot showers and running water as much as the next girl. And when I flush, I like it when my toilet doesnt vomit shit all over. Now, Im no expert in matters of sewage, but I know somethings fucky when I see it, and the entire citys sewage system is very fucky. *** Chapter Forty - Real Politics Chapter Forty - Real Politics Chapter Forty - Real Politics I dont know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, people split along two lines. And yeah, I know, thats a generalization, which means its generally wrong. Anyway, on the one side, you got those that understood the more pragmatic side of politics, the realpolitik and the reasoning behind some of the bullshit. Only some of it, mind you. Theres some bullshit thats just people being dumb. On the other side of that line you have the fanatics. Wildly devoted to whatever echo-chambered message theyve been fed over and over again until its all they know, and they live in this constant state of thinking theyre right. Anyway, I dont have time for all that political stuff. --Jerry Grant, political commentator, 2045 *** Mayor Dupont looked at me for a long moment before saying anything. Is that why youre here? To ask that the city does something about this mess you caused in the sewers? Two things, I said, my hand coming up in a peace symbol. First, I didnt cause the mess. The lack of foresight in letting a literal gang of self-mutilating lunatics take care of the sewage caused the mess. Second, Im not here to ask, Im here to inform you, personally, that shits about to hit the fan. And thats a concern for me? I blinked. Are you dumb? I asked. No, you cant be. Not if you got this fancy office and morning blow jobs. Ill bet youre corrupt as fuck, but you need to be able to put two and two together. Dupont placed his fists on his desk and glared before leaning back. Lets presume that this sewer problem isnt your fault, which Ill only treat as a hypothetical. What do you expect the city to do? Isnt the entire goal of the city to take care of... you know, the city? Roads and power lines and building permits and sewage? No, the purpose of the city as a governmental institution is to make a profit by means of taxation and regulation. Punishing those who fail to comply with our rules and lubricating the economic machine for those who require assistance. What? I asked. That means that yes, we take care of infrastructure, because we are better situated to take care of that infrastructure than the companies which need it to exist. I shook my head. Alright, I dont get it. He sighed. Then go take a civics course and get out of my office. Are you going to pipe it out to the ocean then? I asked. We could, he said. Arent there environmental agencies thatll throw a fit? Dupont laughed. Girl, we are those agencies. And we only throw a fit when it means we can extort more cash from some corp that doesnt know to pay the bribes before the problem becomes obvious. I shifted on my seat, thinking. I didnt quite know what to do, which was really annoying. So I leaned onto my elbows and asked a dumb question to pass the time while I mulled things over. Youre being very open about all of this. I could be recording you. Actually, I am literally recording you, theres no could about it. Oh, I dont particularly care, Dupont said. In my time as mayor I have made a lot of the right people very happy. They know that any replacement might rock the boat. The voters could line up to suck my knob and I still wouldnt care about their opinions. They can clamour and scream and riot all they want. Can you talk about your knob a bit less? Theres a kid in the room, I said. Talk realpolitik, not dick, Rac sing-songed. Then she grinned. Realpolidick. Please never repeat that again, I said. I refocused on the mayor. You know, I came in here expecting to threaten the shit out of you, not to get lectured about the benefits of corruption. I havent even pulled out my awesome new sword to skewer anything yet. Im kind of disappointed. You wanted to solve everything with violence? Dupont asked. In that case, politics might not be the right line of work for you, Stray Cat. Here the violence is either delivered verbally or through an accidental car bomb. So, you wont do anything to help until literally millions of people are fucked over? I asked. Ill do something to help when the right people are fucked over, Dupont corrected. I stood up. Right then, I said. Thanks for your time. I still think youre a sleazy fuck though. Are you going to do anything about my doorframe? he asked. From the tone I think it was just a parting jab. Fuck your doorframe, I said. Come on, Rac, were going to have to fix our problems ourselves. And by ourselves, I meant that I had to make some new friends. But first, I needed a shower and about ten hours of sleep. *** Chapter Forty-One - Physical Comfort in the Presence of Another Chapter Forty-One - Physical Comfort in the Presence of Another Chapter Forty-One - Physical Comfort in the Presence of Another Its a strange quirk of human nature that no matter the culture, there is nearly always something that will be considered an intimate, or even taboo, subject or action. For many western cultures this was depictions of sexual intercourse and images of breasts and genitals. For other cultures the taboos were other things. As humanity entered the twenty-first century, however, titillating materials became the tools of advertisers who wished to shock and intrigue, and because of their overuse of such salacious materials, they became commonplace. Now, images that might once have been considered downright pornographic inspire little more interest than passing notice. Instead, what has become the new subject of enticement is something beyond the reach of many: Physical comfort in the presence of another. --Excerpt from Handholding and Other Carnal Desires, 2050 *** So whatcha gonna do? Rac asked. No one tried to stop me or even slow me down as I headed out of the city hall building and back onto the street. I absently called up another Uber ride, this time aiming for the hotel. I have an idea or two, I said. But nothing concrete. Surprised you didnt just cut the mayor in half. It was tempting, I said. But that wouldnt fix our problem. Itd feel good though, Rac said. I couldnt fault her there. The mayor was, in a word, a shitsac. He was making a terrible situation worse just by being himself. It was frustrating as hell. I didnt think that killing him would improve things either. The mayor was a product of a system, someone who was good at playing a fucked up game. He reminded me of Doc Hack a little. Then again, I did cut Doc Hack in half. But that... felt different. It was violence in response to violence. An escalation, where the mayor wasnt. If it really comes down to it, I dont think Id have a problem introducing the mayor to my sword, I said with a tap to the hilt by my hip. But I think there might be other things we can do first. Our ride arrived a moment or two later. A driverless car that hovered near the ground and waited for Rac and I to board before taking off and merging back into the traffic above. I didnt even bother trying to make it move faster. Wherere we going now? Rac asked. I have a home... but its under construction right now. Well be going to a hotel. Thats where the kittens are, and Lucy, my girlfriend. You can stay the night, if you want. I can take care of myself, Rac said. I nodded. I know. I wont force you, but... well, wait until tomorrow? I have something that you might like. A job, of sorts, you might be really good with. Plus we have room service. Okay, Rac said. I leaned forwards, elbows on knees, and ignored the incessant beeping of the car trying to tell me to buckle my seatbelt. I needed to figure this sewer thing out. Gomorrah and I could take over the operation, I was sure. Some of those matter-reconfiguring machines, a few hundred drones, and a steady supply of materials, and probably a whole heap of stuff I wasnt thinking about and wed control the sewers. Theyd probably run better, and we wouldnt need a mutilated sewer gang to do things for us. I guess, she said. Im used to it. Fair enough. I gestured for her to turn around. Close your eyes and t-pose for me while I spray you down. You can do me after. Rac nodded and did as I asked. Can is running out, she said after a bit. The entire elevator had a haze to it, which I figured was for the best, all things considered. Can I keep it? Sure, I said as I reached out and pressed the button to our floor. I mostly didnt want Lucy to find me smelling like shit. The elevator doors dinged open and Rac and I stepped out and into the corridor leading to my kittens and Lucy. I felt like I had a weight lifted off my shoulders. Still, I had some sense of responsibility. I sent off a text to Gomorrah, telling her that I was home, and that I needed a few hours of sleep. She replied with a thumb-up emoji, so I figured we were cool. I knocked. This is where you are staying? Rac asked. For now. I bought the top floor of this building not too far from here. But were still fixing that up. Neat, Rac said just as the door opened. Lucy was standing there, in a T-shirt and ripped up jeans, her hair a messy wet poof above her. She stared, then grinned before noticing Rac. Oh hey, you brought another one home. I stumbled forwards and pulled her into a hug. Lucy laughed, and I felt her hands sliding over my armour to return the hug. Missed you too, she said. Where do you want to start? Where did I want to start? A rant about stupid people, a long discussion about what to do? Maybe some fucking? Food? Those would all feel great. I want a shower, I decided. Lucy giggled. I just came out of it. Should still be nice and warm. Come on. Uh, this is Rac, I said with a gesture to the girl that followed me in. She was staring at the other kittens who were perked up and staring right back. She also glanced at the cat-mecha currently acting like a sphynx before the fridge. I bet there was a story there. Hey, Rac said, one hand rising to wave. Sup? Hi Rac! Junior, can you take care of Rac, please? Lucy asked. She looks like she could use something to eat, and a shower too. Junior looked up from where she was zoning out on the couch, sighed, then bounced to her feet. Why cant you ask Daniel? she muttered as she approached Rac. Come on, kitty Cat, Lucy murmured. Lets get you all cleaned up. She pulled me after her, and despite the armour and all the gear, there was nothing I could do to resist her tug. *** Chapter Forty-Two - R&R Chapter Forty-Two - R&R Chapter Forty-Two - R&R Its an unfortunate fact that humans cant operate at full capacity at all times. If you dont allow your workers a minimum of time to decompress and destress, the quality of their work will sharply decrease. --Excerpt from Minimums and Maximums: A Guide to the Workforce, 2024 *** I couldnt remember most of the events of the afternoon. There was a shower which lasted until my entire body was a wrinkled mess. Then I remembered Lucy helping me dress (which probably explained why I was only wearing a t-shirt and socks) and then a blissful fall into a deep sleep. I yawned, toes stretching out under the blankets. The screen-windows to one side showed that it was still dark out, maybe approaching midnight? It was hard to tell. I was never exactly a very punctual up with the sun kind of girl, but I wasnt used to waking up so damned early. My arms rose and I spread my legs so that I was splayed out across the entire bed. It was nice. I might have been able to fall asleep again, but I had the nagging impression that I still had a lot of work to do.Fo?ll0w current novE?ls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m) Also, there was no Lucy in bed, which was somewhat discouraging. With a bone-deep sigh I rolled over to the side of the bed, rubbed at my face for a bit, then climbed to my feet. I had to visit the washroom, which, as usual, was a great way to ruin any mood. I found my power armour laying on a heap at the bottom of the shower. I vaguely remembered leaving it there. Probably for the best. It looked dry now, but I wouldnt mind hosing it down again, just in case. Exiting the en-suite, I shuffled out of the room. The penthouse was quiet, which was nice. A peek into one of the rooms on the way to the kitchen revealed a few of the kittens sleeping in a heap on one bed. Though I did find Nose was awake and playing some game. I didnt particularly mind as long as he wasnt being loud. Cat? Lucy asked. I grinned and looked up to find the most beautiful girl in the world waiting for me by the kitchen island. She smiled right back and pulled me into a hug. Not a sexy hug, just a warm, soft hold that made me want to melt. Hey, I muttered. Theres cereal and milk, Lucy said. And did you know that the theater room has a lock on the door? I groaned. Sexier words had never been uttered. Lucy laughed and squeezed me tighter before letting go. Give me two minutes, she said. I leaned against the island while Lucy scrambled for bowls and spoons, then tucked a milk carton under one arm and an entire box of Longb-os under her chin. Come on, kitty Cat, she said. I followed after her, partly amused, and partly because I really was hungry. It didnt stop my eyes from straying down to the way her hips moved. Are you trying to strut? I asked. Is it working? she replied. I snorted. Not really, no, you look like a grandma that just had her hip replaced. That would be trivially easy. Ill load the movie onto the screen. When youre ready to start, just say so. Youre a sweetheart, Lucy said. I huffed and contented myself with another bite. Mm, Myalis, we need to call people, dont we? I have organized the replies youve received from Gomorrah, Longbow, and Deus Ex. They will be ready for your attention once youre done relaxing. Once Im done relaxing? I asked. You dont yet have the capability to overlook the amount of mental and physical strain you have put yourself through over the past days. If you dont take some time to destress, you risk harming yourself. If I judged things pressing enough, I would suggest that you forgo relaxation in order to tackle the next issue, but matters as they stand are not critical enough to justify that much risk. What Myalis is saying, Lucy translated, is that you need a break. She dipped her bowl up and finished off the last of her milk. Ah, so were going to watch a movie, and maybe after that Ill give you a massage. Her hand came down on my thigh and I hissed at the contact. Her fingers were so cold! I finished my cereal, tossed the bowl and spoon onto the next couch over, then wrapped my arms around Lucy and pulled her closer. Fine, I muttered into the nook of her neck. But if were going to do that, then the least you can do is be a bit warmer. Hey, Im plenty hot, Lucy said. She wiggled around until she was comfortable, then I reached down and unfolded the sofas legs and we spent an enjoyable couple of seconds resettling in place. Lucy reached over and pulled a blanket over, then snapped it open and covered the both of us in it. Thanks, I said. Lucy sighed. I love you, you know. I love you too, I said. I couldnt keep the grin off my face. We have a whole bunch of things to do tomorrow, Lucy said. We need to get the museum-house ready, we need to do something about Rac and the kittens, and you need to save the world some more, but right now, you belong to me. Oh? I asked. I belong to you now, huh? I pulled her closer, hands wrapped over her stomach. She nodded and placed her hands over mine. You do. Property of Lucy. Im going to have that tattooed on your butt. I laughed. Wouldnt that mean that only my ass would be yours? Two tattoos then, Lucy said. Ive got two hands after all. Pervert, I said. She chuckled. Im not a pervert. But these legs, theyre mine too. Myalis, start the movie, Cats running out of banter. I am not! *** Chapter Forty-Three - Nothing But Cuddles Chapter Forty-Three - Nothing But Cuddles Chapter Forty-Three - Nothing But Cuddles Aint no one getting between me and my cuddle time! Uwu. --Quote attributed to Neon Girl Happy-Chan, 2029 *** I woke up feeling both warm and content. It didnt take long to realize why. Lucy was turned on her side, wedged between me and the edge of the couch. She had a hand pressed under her chin, which squished her cheek up, and her other hand was balled into a fist over my chest. I shifted my leg just a little, and Lucy shifted in turn, her own leg moving up and down, soft skin against mine. She was snoring, and it wasnt the cute kind of snore that the girls in the movies had. I smiled and leaned my head over to peck her on the forehead. She didnt react at all, entirely oblivious to the world at large. That was fine. I tugged the blanket shed covered us in higher so that it was tucked up near her neck and settled in to wait. I was trapped, of course,and there was no escaping this one--not that I wanted to. I didnt want to speak aloud; that might wake Lucy up, and that would be a sin. So I took some pictures of her face, line of drool and squished cheeks and all, and saved them for later. Blackmail was always handy to have. Opening a messenger app with my augs, I sent a message to Myalis. Hey. Any news on the stuff? How very eloquently put. Yes, there has been some news about the conditions and changes with regards to the stuff. I let out a huff of laughter before replying. Cute. Did Longbow and Deus Ex reply? Any news from Gomorrah? You received replies from both. Neither were visual or audible though. Do you wish to see the replies? Sure, I sent. A new box appeared before me, my augs printing it on the air. The situation with the sewers is a problem, but its not as critical as other issues we have. Ill send what you sent me to the Family. Theyll put some pressure on the city to fix things. Im too busy to interfere myself. Take care of it. -Deus Ex Fucking callous little pipsqueak, isnt she? I asked. She has proven her worth as a vanguard. I trust that her claims of currently working on more pressing concerns are truthful. Hmm, I hummed. Lucy moved her head up and tucked it in the nook of my neck, so I tilted my head down and rested my cheek on the poofy mess that was her hair. Alright, so thats one avenue thats basically gone. The Family thing might help, but the mayors a cunt so I doubt it. What did Longbow say? It does. He currently has several activities on his itinerary, though this afternoon is meant to be used for clothes shopping at a specific mall. Lets crash that, I said. I want to meet him. What about the other dude? Peter Silverbloom. His profile isnt as deep, though he does have a public record. He is a noted activist and philanthropist. He had founded several non-profits, and been a member of dozens. His history as a volunteer stretches back to when he was an older teenager. He was responsible for the social-outreach club at Lawsons All Girls Academy. Sounds way too good to be true, I wrote back. Also, all girl? He was a woman then. Okay. Still too good to be true. Good folk existed. We had a few at the orphanage who were genuinely nice people who really did seem to only want to help. But they were the exception, the one-percent. Send him a message to call me sometime later, I sent. We can chat. Does he have any organization that might help the Sewer Dragons? He does run a non-profit that raises funds to purchase cybernetics for victims of street crimes. It is likely that they would assist individuals who were kidnapped by the Sewer Dragons and forcibly modified. From the public records available though, it is exceptionally unlikely that the organization would be able to assist the number of people who were rescued. Yeah, figures, I wrote. I sighed and cuddled closer to Lucy, mostly because that was my favourite way to get rid of any lingering negative thoughts. I closed my eyes, and zoned out for a moment. When I opened them again it was with a heavy yawn. Somehow an hour had slipped past. Gomorrah, I wrote. Has expressed a desire to speak when you have the time to do so. She has also noted that the people you have saved are currently secure and housed at the church where she resides. The accommodations can last some time before they will need to begin addressing the issue of the survivors being rehabilitated and returned to their previous lives. The folk there were probably just happy that an actual samurai was looking into things. But that happiness wouldnt last if no one gave them a proper solution. Can you remind me to call Gomorrah later? I wrote. Added to your agenda for the day. I chuckled. Me, having an agenda. It sounded like a joke. Still... Thank you, Myalis, I whispered. Youre welcome, Catherine. You should sleep some more, you have a busy day ahead of you. I nodded and ignored the way my arm was tingling after having Lucys weight on it for so long, and I shifted so that I could wrap my other arm around her in a protective hug. Thanks, I muttered again. *** Chapter Forty-Four - Sword Talk Chapter Forty-Four - Sword Talk Chapter Forty-Four - Sword Talk The term samurai was, for the most part, a meme that became part of the standard lexicon. Early vanguards--as theyre appropriately called--were compared to feudal warriors, a new caste of expert combatants against the Antithesis threat. Someone made the comparison to the ancient samurai, and despite some glaring inconsistencies between the actual samurai and the vanguard (notably, the vanguard dont answer to any lords or government) the term stuck. Interestingly enough, there are a number of vanguard that gravitate towards a self-image very similar to the pop cultural depictions of actual samurai. From carrying swords, to cultivating a gentleman warrior personality, they mimic the legends of the past to further their own image in the present. --Lecture on the Cultural History of the Ancient Warrior, Professor Hickmen, 2040 *** Hey Rac, I said as I sat down in the kitchen. The girl pulled her head out of the fridge, a block of cheese in her mouth, a loaf of bread tucked under her arm, and I think every bottle of condiment in the fridge was pressed against her side. Hmh, was her reply. I watched as she navigated over to the table and dumped everything onto it, then returned to the fridge to scavenge out more stuff. Whatcha making? I asked. Sandwich, she replied, her voice made echoey on account of her being halfway in the fridge. Cool, I said. Guess Ill make one too. Rac returned with three packages of food, while I found some plates and some knives from one of the drawers. For some reason likely related to the kittens, there were no sharp knives left in any of the drawers, just butter knives. Rac and I made sandwiches. It was nice. The hams the best, Raccoon said between large bites. I hummed. I like the turkey better, I replied. We had made a few sandwiches from all the meats available. Real meats too, at least according to what was written on their packages. So, Rac said. She reached over and grabbed a juice box, tore the straw off the back, and jammed it through the top. She slurped loudly before speaking again. When do you want me to leave? You dont have to, I said. I shoved the end of my current sandwich down my mouth, then slapped a piece of bread down on my plate and reached over for the tomato paste. Im not going to stick around and be one of your kittens, Rac said. Im my own girl, and I can take care of myself. Also, pass the mayo. I passed her the mayo. Thats alright too. But if you ever need a place to spend the night, then were around. And if youre looking for work... You said that already. What kind of work? All I know how to do is pick up trash. Well, it happens that thats exactly what the job Im thinking of needs, I said. What job? I looked up as Lucy walked into the kitchen. Her hair was a wet mop above her head, dragged down and looking kind of pitiful. She was in fresh clothes, which is to say torn up cargo pants and a stained t-shirt. Im hiring Rac for a thing. Also, we need to go clothes shopping. We do, Lucy agreed. Later today... maybe? Cool, Junior said. Can I buy weapons and shit? Wait, what? Daniel asked. Are you serious? Do you want to babysit? I asked him. He froze for a moment until his eggs started to hiss in the pan. I retract my objections, he said. You ready? Lucy asked. She was waiting by the door, a knowing smile in place and her hand on the handle. She seemed eager to get going, and I didnt have any good reason to slow her down. Yeah, I said before adjusting my coat with one hand. The other was busy holding onto the sheath of my sword. Rac and I followed Lucy out into the corridor, the girl next to me still stuffing her pockets full of packaged meat and some stuff shed swiped from the pantry. Why do you have a sword? Lucy asked. Because its cool, I said. Besides, I dont want to leave this thing with the kittens. Okay, but its a sword. You have guns. You have railguns, even. And a rocket launcher, Lucy pointed out. And now I have a sword, I said. Lucy stared at it, then back up to me. You need a belt for that, she said. Or at least something to hold it. You cant walk around with a sword in hand all day. I mean, I can, it would just be really inconvenient. Why a sword anyway? Lucy asked. I dunno, but I like it? It looks cool. Lucy slid her arm around mine and held on close. So it makes you feel powerful? Like a giant phallic symbol, then? Its not like that, I said. Oh Cat, maybe later we can play with your sword together, Lucy murmured next to my ear. I felt my cheeks warming. I said its not like that. Sounds like its like that, Rac said. Shush you. No mocking my sword. Id never, Lucy said. Dont worry, Im sure your sword is a lot more impressive than most other swords. It certainly looks a lot bigger. Damnit Lucy. Its one of those Japanese looking ones, Rac said. So its probably not good for thrusting. I hate both of you. *** Interlewd Three Interlewd Three Interlewd Three Hello! I called out, then grinned as my voice echoed back. It wasnt a perfect echo, just the sort of thing youd hear in any large, empty space. Fitting, then. Having fun? Lucy asked. I turned and noticed the cheeky grin she had on before she closed the door behind her. Wed taken a cab over to the museum again. We had a lot of work to do on the place, but for the most part, that was out of our hands. Some staff from the museum had passed the night before and taken the remaining displays. That still left a few things that hadnt been taken. A couple of plinths lay around the room, a few bits of cardboard and tape that theyd left behind after packing everything up. Too bad we cant keep the entire place this big, Lucy said. She spun around, arms outstretched as if to emphasize how much room there was. Yeah, I agreed. It would be nice, but at the same time it would be entirely wasted. So much room with nothing in it. How long did they say it would take? I asked. Three weeks, Lucy said. And thats only if they can get all of the materials they need. I nodded as I followed her down to the main floor. Our new home was a little awkward, with some sections on higher levels than others. We could probably cut the entire thing in half and have two floors for ourselves, actually. Theyd be cramped, with low ceilings all over, but still. Its going to be nice, Lucy said. She moved over to one of the plinths and pushed her hand against it. Once all of this stuff is gone. Yeah, I agreed. Then, because Lucy was turned away from me, I grabbed her from behind in a bear hug and placed my chin on her head, her poofy hair soft against my face. You know, Lucy said. There was something in her voice, teasing and a little knowing. The contractor will only arrive at nine. Oh? I asked. A glance at the time on my augs revealed it to be just past seven thirty. Were going to be waiting here for a while then. We are, Lucy agreed. Its too bad theres absolutely nothing we can do right now. She wasnt even trying to hide the teasing now. One of her hands reached up and took mine, and she brought it up to her lips to peck my knuckles. Hmm, I said, a growing smile twisting my voice. Im sure we could think of something to do, I murmured. My other hand dipped down and pressed itself flat against Lucys stomach. Shed opted to wear a comfortable tanktop under that coat Id given her, and under that she had a skirt on. I hadnt seen Lucy wearing skirts very often. She was always a little conscious of her weaker legs, and she tended to stumble and bruise easily, so pants it was most of the time. But today was different. Lucy pressed back into me. Last time, you got to go first, she said. Did I? I asked. She let go of my hand, so I brought it around, and through some sheer, unfathomable accident, it alighted on her breast where I squeezed just a little. Mmm, Cat, Lucy said. Im the dom in this relationship, you know. You keep saying that, I muttered. But here we are. Lucy snorted and spun around, then she got onto the tips of her toes while I bent down just a little. Our lips met, familiar and warm. We shared a breath, and soon Lucy was pressing up into me while I met her. She was daring today, very daring, her tongue pressing past my lips even as her hands tugged my coat open and started to grasp at my sides and hips. Lucy, I moaned as the kiss broke. She tugged me towards her, then with a quick bit of footwork, we spun around so that my back was pressed into the plinth and she was pressing down on me. We need to, ah, christen this place, right? Lucy asked. I laughed, then dipped in for a quick peck. We do, I agreed. We have an hour, dont we? Thats long enough for me to take care of you, Lucy said. Oh, youll be taking care of me, huh? I asked. She grinned, then her hand came up and cupped my breast. She gave it a small squeeze. I think so, yeah, she said. I laughed and reached over to her, only for her arms to come up and push mine aside. No, she said. Me first. I watched as she idly removed her coat and tossed it to the side, leaving her in nothing but her tanktop and skirt and a pair of big old boots. Then she tugged my coat wide open then pressed a hand against my shirt. You like this shirt? she asked. Uh? Yeah, I guess, I said. Then take it off, but put the coat back on, Lucy demanded. I grinned. Really? Oh yeah, she said. The bra goes too. I huffed. You know, the ceiling here is made of glass. Her grin was downright terrifying. Are you afraid someone might see us? I grinned right back. I couldnt let a challenge like that fly. They can watch all they want. Oh? Lucy asked. She moved in for another kiss before stepping back and letting me take off my coat. I tossed off my shirt and flung it onto one of the other display cases, then I did the same with my sports bra. The air didnt feel all that crisp when I had a coat on, but with my chest bare to the air it was a whole other story. When Lucy handed me back my coat I slid in on in a hurry. The fabric was soft on the inside, which was convenient. Lucy stepped up again, her hands reaching down and immediately tugging at the front of my pants. In a hurry, huh? I asked. Oh, you cant imagine. She tugged my pants down, and I shivered as they fell down around my ankles. Then Lucy stepped on the bridge and I tugged my feet free, boots and all. Happy? I asked. She stepped in between my legs, the bare skin of her thighs rubbing against the bare skin of my own legs. Very, she murmured. It was very strange to be wearing nothing but panties, a coat and some boots. The museum was drafty and definitely on the chiller side of things, but then I had Lucy to warm me up. Wed barely done any more than kiss and already I was feeling a familiar warmth coiling in my stomach. Lucy pressed herself closer, and it felt all the more intimate as my jacket spilled to the side and I could feel all of her so close to me. All her curves and her warmth and... Lucy, I asked. She kissed me again, a hand snaking up to play with a nipple. Her other hand was resting by the curve of my hip. I just knew she was about to reach down and cup my ass. She was predictable that way. Hmm? she asked. Her motions became more enthusiastic too, the smack of her hips against mine growing louder even as I felt her pushing me up with each thrust. I started to feel that familiar tingle down the length of my spine, and some of that wetness was certainly not the lube. Oh, Cat, Lucy groaned. Fuck, I love you. I love you too, I said. Lucy stopped mid-hump, her breath catching and her eyes rolling up. I captured her in a hug, and because she was there, pressed my lips to hers. Something wet leaked down the inside of my thigh, and a glance down revealed a small froth of whitish foam around my lips where it was staining my panties. Huh, I said. I... wow, Lucy said. Shit, you didnt even. Well, it was something, I said. Lucy swallowed and shook her head. That was, yeah, she said before tugging the dick out slowly. I felt strangely empty when it was gone. Though I could have done without the small flood of juices down my leg. You have fun? I asked. Cat, I havent come like that in... well, ever. It was... not the same as usual? Different, yeah, real different. You need to try it. I laughed. Maybe I will, I said. Though really, it wasnt as tempting to me as it obviously was to Lucy. She reached down and stroked the shaft. Cat. Yeah? I have a very big favour to ask. I raised an eyebrow. Shoot. Can we do it from behind? Really? I asked. Lucy had a thing for asses, so this wasnt entirely new. But Id never been too fond of it myself. Lucy had played with all of my holes plenty of times, but she knew it wasnt my preference. Still, the look of uncertain want in her eyes. Sure, I said. She hopped forward and kissed me, hard. Come on, turn around. I rolled my eyes, but did as she asked. Turning and putting my elbows down on the plinth, my ass out behind me. Do you want me to remove the coat? I asked. No, no, Lucy said. We agreed. The coat stays on. I laughed before I felt Lucy pressing herself up against my back. She wrapped her arms around me, breath tickling my ear before she pressed a few kisses against the nape of my neck. Lucy, I said. I love you, ya know? she said. I laughed. I love you too. One of her hands moved down, to line things up, I presumed. I felt her tensing, and I tensed up myself. Then the doors at the far end of the room squeaked open and I started to rise off the plinth. In that same moment, Lucy pushed forwards, and things moved into the wrong place. Ah, I squealed even as I tightened my butt against the intrusion. It didnt hurt, exactly, but it was certainly a surprise. Oh shit, Lucy said. I felt something click, and she stepped back and away from me while tugging down my coat, but whatever was in my ass stayed there. I tugged the front of my jacket closed, then buttoned it up in a hurry. Lucy, what the fucks in my ass? I hissed. Someone was walking into the room. By some twist of good luck, they were turned so that they were walking in backwards through the door. Its my dick, I told you, its got features, Lucy said. What features? Lucy had the good grace to look sheepish. Plug mode? I glared at her, and she shrugged. Uh, is that the contractor? Hes fucking early, I swore. I looked around, saw my pants a few metres away, then glanced down at myself. Technically, everything was covered up. The advantage of having a long coat on. Also technically, I was very naked under the coat, not counting my boots. Hello! the contractor said. He gave us a jaunty wave. I thought Id show up early, get a look at the place before we really started. Early bird gets the worm and all that. H-hey, I said. You must be miss Stray Cat, he said as he came down the steps, then extended a hand to shake. I shook while nodding. A pleasure to meet you, maam. Yeah, yeah, pleasures all mine, I said. Lucy stepped up before me and, with a wide grin, started talking at a million miles an hour. It was the distraction I needed to recentre myself and try to find a way to get my pants back on, and maybe my shirt too... if I could find it. Come on, Ill show you around, Lucy said. I froze. I... kind of had to follow her, didnt I? I grinned and tried to walk as normally as I could, keeping Lucy between me and the contractor as we moved around the inside of the museum and Lucy pointed out things that needed fixing while the contractor made notes on a tablet. Things were going well, I was getting used to the... sensation behind me, and the contractor was none the wiser, it seemed. And then Lucy grinned at me, and things started to buzz. Mrgh. Miss? the contractor asked. Are you alright? Youre a little red in the face. I took a quick breath. Im fine, I said while resisting the urge to cross my legs. Lets keep on, ah, looking over the, uh, place? The moment the contractor left, I was going to do horrible, horrible things to Lucy, the sort of things that would make her walk strange for a week. *** Chapter Forty-Five - Mall Day Chapter Forty-Five - Mall Day Chapter Forty-Five - Mall Day Malls were an interesting idea before the turn of the century. A place where stores could be jammed in and where people could gather. They nearly became an artefact of a more peaceful time. Terrorist attacks, a few plagues, the increasing digitalization of marketplaces, and the rising cost of physical marketplaces nearly killed the entire idea of a mall. Nearly. Now malls still exist, but more as a grand experience where those with more money than sense can be surrounded and cuddled in consumerist bliss, at least until they run out of cash to spend. --Excerpts from The Past Today - a Look at the Artefacts of Old America, 2055 *** Lucy, Rac and I arrived at the museum sometime before ten, which I figured was pretty good, considering how lazy Lucy and I could be if we wanted. We showed Rac the matter recombobulator in what would be my armoury, and the girl practically worshipped the machine. Its ability to turn useless trash into samurai-grade stuff was like a small religious revelation to her. When I told her that my job for her was basically to collect trash and chuck it in the machine to make stuff with, she immediately took off and said she would take care of it. Honestly, I was a bit worried, but I had Myalis track her, and she was mostly making the rounds of all the nearest dumpsters looking for preem refuse. Lucy and I had a quick conversation with the contractor when he finally showed up. It ended with the man shooting down some of Lucys more outrageous ideas before we settled on a plan for the renovations that was a bit more reasonable. Once I dropped some cash for a deposit and warned the man about Rac and the very dangerous machine guarded by a few more-dangerous mecha cats, Lucy and I found ourselves with a heap of time at our disposal. Now what? Lucy asked. We were sitting on the edge of our floors parking space, that overhang at the very top of the building where cars could come in to unload passengers into the more ostentatious entrance to the museum. I have... a couple of things to do, I said.Updated chapters at novelhall.com So I should go home? Lucy asked. I frowned. I think you can come along for the first one? I need to meet this guy called Jeff Burringham. Hes a politician. Oh, yuck, Lucy said. Think youll find him getting blown? I doubt it, but its not impossible, I said. He has the afternoon penciled for clothes shopping. So I thought it would be nice and natural to show up at whatever shop hes at to say hello and talk about stuff. Lucy entwined her fingers with mine and we ran up to the back of the line. The people here skewed towards the younger, so much so that Lucy and I were about average. Teens in little cliques, some college students, plenty of upper-middle class daddys money vibes going around. I glanced over to Lucy, who grinned back. The lines moved in towards the doors, and I noticed a ping on my augs. The mall trying to connect to me to send me some maps and about a terabyte of ads mixed in with malware. Myalis was likely having a great time tearing whatever system had sent that apart. We crossed through the revolving doorway and stepped into a smaller lobby area. Cement half-walls with security behind them, automated guns tucked away in large stainless crates, and rows of metal detectors that mall-goers were stepping through one at a time before being accosted by a guard that checked their temperatures and papers before letting them in. All to the tune of some shitty jingles played on crackly speakers. So much for this place looking fancy, I muttered. Theres a no guns allowed sign there, Lucy said, pointing to a large plastic board over the security stations. Thats cute, I said. Myalis, can you make us less conspicuous? Actually attempting subterfuge? How strange. When our time came to pass through the metal detectors they came back clean, and when the guard checked our IDs by tagging our augs, we came back with nothing but flying colours. I noticed one of the guards staring at the very obvious sword hooked to a loop of my pants, but he didnt comment. So much for all that security, Lucy said as she leaned against me again. Yeah, well, fancy samurai tech trumps half-assed mall security, I said. And if they caught on anyway? Lucy asked. Then fancy samurai weaponry trumps mall securitys tasers, I said. This whole samurai gig is a bit like cheating. A bit? Lucy asked. I smiled, a bit sheepish. Alright, so a lot. The entrance led up a slight incline and around a corner, then into the centre of the pyramid. It was hollow, with a great big pillar filled with elevators in its centre and all the floors of the mall ringing around the middle in ever tightening circles. Right, now we just need to figure out where the fancy fucker is, I said. *** Chapter Forty-Six - A Bit Fancy Chapter Forty-Six - A Bit Fancy Chapter Forty-Six - A Bit Fancy Discovering alien, non-human life, did interesting things to the field of psychology. The field, as esoteric and vague as it already was, didnt know how people would react to extraterrestrial life. As it turns out, we as humans mostly want to either kill it (in the case of the Antithesis) or fuck it (in the case of all the rest). --Cedric Richmond, PhD Psychology, 2031 *** So, wheres our dude? I asked. How would I know? Lucy replied. Never exactly been here. I chuckled. I was asking Myalis, actually. But yeah, the place is a bit fancy, huh? The mall had that clean modern look that places with too much money poured into PR and advertising had. Clean stainless steel decoration, holographic ads so well-crafted they almost looked real, and more importantly of all, a constant stream of bonafide middle-class losers buying shit. There was no advertising like having clients. Jeff Burringham hasnt yet arrived, though his appointment is in only an hour. Neat. Wheres the appointment at? Hes meant to be at a store called the Boutique de Beau Vtements. Its on the third floor. Though I should inform you that the floors on this building are numbered in the reverse to most human buildings. The topmost floor is number one? I asked. Exactly. I suspect its a marketing ploy to convince people to discuss the building more. Clever, I said. Then I noticed Lucy pouting. If youre going to take me on a date with another girl, then you could at least let me be part of the conversation, she said. This is a date? I asked. It isnt? Lucy asked right back. Were out, were shopping, were going to go threaten some politician with possible bodily harm. We literally just snuck into a place while packing. Sounds like a date to me. I laughed. Well, sorry, I wasnt thinking and didnt realize. Look, once we find a quiet spot, Ill buy you some fancy augs, and Myalis can talk to you directly. Lucy grinned. Nice. Myalis would make a great girlfriend, you know. Yeah? I replied. We would like to cordially invite you into la Boutique de Beau Vtements. Please, browse at your leisure, and if anything catches your eye, you need only inform a member of our staff. If you find yourself uncertain about anything, then dont hesitate to ask for assistance as well. Every member on the floor has a doctorate in fashion design. Thanks, I said. The store didnt have racks of clothing. Instead it had little booths and stands with mannequins dressed in suits and nice summer wear, others had dresses or streetwear on. Lucy gasped and pulled me into the front of a booth. Ive heard of these, she said before stepping up into the booth. The inner wall was a mirror, at least for a moment. A scan later and there was a colour swatch that matched Lucys darker skin to one side, and another for her hair, then her image split and her reflection was wearing three different outfits, all from the same brand whose understated logo adorned a corner of the booth. Oh, I like this one, she said, pointing to one off to the side. The dress became the centre of focus, and the next three Lucy models were all wearing similar but not identical versions of the dress. Different trim, slightly different colours, with and without complementing accessories. Thats kind of cool, I said. I wonder how they did the models, Lucy said. The entrance area had several high-resolution cameras at different angles. It wouldnt be difficult to build a three-dimensional model from that information alone. Also, take note that the models are being somewhat complimentary when it comes to Lucys actual size. Lucy sighed, she was half turned to the mirror. Yeah, my ass isnt that nice, she said. Your ass is very nice, I said. Thank you, Cat, Lucy said. She smacked herself playfully, then laughed at the expression I made. Come on, we should find something pretty for you to wear. Youd look awesome in a suit. As long as you dont try to fit me into a skirt, I said. Wouldnt suit you, Lucy said. I, on the other hand, have these new and improved legs to show off. And to shave, urgh. Lucy and I moved to another booth, this one more business oriented. I got to see what Lucy would look like in a blouse and pencil skirt, thick-rimmed secretary glasses and all, then she forced me in front to try on different suits. I had to admit that I cut an intimidating figure in an all-black three piece with a sword by my hip. Cat. Jeff Burringham has entered the shop. I half-turned and looked towards the entrance. Somehow Lucy had dragged us a good ways into the store. It meant that I could snoop on Burringham from afar in peace. Jeff didnt come alone. He had a pair of bodyguards who immediately stationed themselves next to the entrance, and a petite secretary-type who was stuck to his side like a bureaucratic limpet. The man himself was pretty handsome, for a guy. Well well, about damned time. Did you want to come? You know I always do, Lucy said. *** Chapter Forty-Seven - In Which Lucy Does Politics Chapter Forty-Seven - In Which Lucy Does Politics Chapter Forty-Seven - In Which Lucy Does Politics The cost of a vote? Currently, a single citizens vote is averaging out at approximately 1,245 credits each, at the going rate. That can change a lot. Last election cycle the cost dropped when a mobile game company traded votes for waifus. It was one of the most popular elections in a while! --Interview with Nimbletainments CPO, 2035 *** Burringham--I dont know why, but some people just had a sort of... family-name only kind of face, and Jeff here was definitely one of those--took a moment to glance around the store while standing in the entrance. His gaze swept right by me without ever lingering before his attention was caught by one of the butler-looking guys. He started to chat with the butler, an easy, happy chatter that seemed to put even the uptight butler at ease. The two of them started to move towards a booth that the butler was gesturing at--Burringhams secretary in tow--when Lucy and I intercepted them. Hey there, I said with an easy grin. Youre Burringham, right? Jeff Burringham, he said with a handsome smile. A pleasure. I didnt expect to meet anyone that knew me here! He glanced at the store clerk, one eyebrow raised in an obvious question. The man cleared his throat. This is Miss Stray Cat and her companion; she is a local samurai. Burringhams other eyebrow joined the first. A samurai! Thats wonderful! To think that I shop at the same place as one of our protectors. He extended a hand my way, and without really thinking I shook. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Stray Cat. Ah, it is Miss, correct? She-slash-her? Yeah, I said. Actually, Im here because you are. Really? Im hardly that famous, at least not yet. I hope nothing Ive done has been so abhorrent as to require the intervention of a samurai. I shook my head. No, not what youve done. Come on, if you still want to shop or whatever, then thats fine. I want to chat, not interrogate you or whatever. I knew that no matter what that guy would be on edge. It reminded me a bit of the very, very infrequent visits by psychiatrists and social workers of that sort at the orphanage. They never directly questioned the kittens that thought weirdly, they always tried to play that Im actually your friend card before that. This time I was playing the part of the corporate-paid shrink though. Certainly, though first I would love to introduce myself to your lovely friend here. He smiled at Lucy and extended a hand to her. Instead of shaking it though he bowed over it and kissed the air over her knuckles. You must be Miss Stray Cats girlfriend, I presume? Yeah, Im Lucy, Lucy said. She had a bit of a flush toher cheeks, but it disappeared almost as soon as it had appeared. Howd you know? Good augs? No no, augs wont tell you that kind of thing, not at first glance, he said. But body language, that will. You two seem close. After that it was all an educated guess. So! Clothing! It was pretty close, I said. But now youre running for mayor. Im curious about your stance on the city not having any water thing. Burringham hummed. Ill be entirely honest with you, Miss Stray Cat. This is the first Ive heard of this situation. He turned towards his secretary. Did we know about it at all? It was a low-priority situation on our docket for the week. Filed in with a few other infrastructure issues, the secretary said. We did receive some news about a couple of samurai in the sewers yesterday, but it wasnt flagged as overly important. I can also confirm that the mayor spoke to a samurai yesterday, presumably Miss Stray Cat. Interesting, Burringham said. How many people are likely to be impacted by this? I know the question is a little callous, but its something I need to know. Anyone that has a toilet in their home, or who likes running water, I said. Burringhams frown grew. And what did the mayor say? Mostly he seemed to think that bottled water sales would go up, I said. Burringham crossed his arms. The election is in four days. A few people have tried to postpone it, myself included, but the mayor and his party insisted that we hold it on its scheduled time anyway. We wanted to push it back because in times of crisis, politics arent on peoples minds, and keeping the status quo is often easier than moving people around. But this might change things. Not for the better, I said. Its the poor folk that are going to get fucked over the most. I can imagine, yes. Burringham swiped his hand before him, and the screen started to play some generic footage of models in nice clothes. Alright. People need water. I agree with you on that, and besides, its such an obviously good stance to take that Id be an idiot not to. But that doesnt mean that Ill be able to do all that much, even if I do slip into the position of mayor. Theres a lot of entrenched groups to move. Like who? I asked. He shook his head. Miss Stray Cat, can I make a proposition? You can try. The gala Im holding tomorrow. Would you be willing to show up? Bring your beautiful friend as well, of course. If you help me gain the mayors seat, then Ill turn the revamping of the sewage system into my highest priority issue. His secretary looked up. Sir, that might be an unpopular stance to take. No, it wont, he said. Not the moment people start to run out of water. The mayors going to try to pin the failure on me, saying Im sabotaging it to make my cause look better, but with Miss Stray Cat saying otherwise people wont believe him. I dont know how keen I am on doing politics, I said. Burringham laughed. Miss Stray Cat, your being here means that youre already doing politics. Congratulations! *** Chapter Forty-Eight - Family Matters Chapter Forty-Eight - Family Matters Chapter Forty-Eight - Family Matters Familys important. We used to live in Florida, before the ocean took it. We werent all that close as a family, not until the waves rose and all of a sudden everything was being swallowed up by more and more water. We had to move. Lost everything, just like millions of others. All because like, ten companies decided to fuck humanity and the only planet we have. Familys important. And if saving my family means that I need to kill some shareholders, then fuck em. --Guilty plea of Hernandez Smith, accused of multiple counts of homicide, 2027 *** What do you think? I asked Lucy while Burringham left. He had a bag by his side, and one of his bodyguards came up to take his new suit, wrapped in a layer of clear plastic and hanging off of a coat-hanger. He was charming, she said. Handsome too. I think he knows that hes both, and hes used to leveraging it. But I guess thats pretty normal for a politician. Makes sense, yeah, I said. Hes a career politician, at least thats the way Myalis put it. She gave you a report? Lucy asked. I nodded. It was pretty detailed. Can I see it? I wont read it now, but it might be interesting to know, Lucy asked. I shrugged. Yeah, sure. So, the gala thing, want to be my plus one?Rread latest chapters at novelhall.com Oh, what a casual way to ask someone out, Lucy said. She grabbed onto my arm and leaned her head down onto my shoulder. You know, its going to be a real fancy gala thing. We cant just show up wearing whatever. Well, actually, you might be able to, as long as the whatever is samurai-ish enough, but poor little Lucy needs to wear something to blend in a little better. You just want a pretty dress, I said. No, I want to buy a pretty dress. I could assist here. I decided to ignore Myalis because shed get Lucy something with a cat-print and ears and Lucy would take it just to make me suffer. I really dont see how thats any different than what I said. Also, arent you going to buy the dress with my money? Lucy looked up to me, and I could get lost in those eyes, even if they looked at my pityingly. You are such a useless lesbian, she said. What? Entirely useless, she declared. I am not! I do like having it, in case things go sideways. Better bulletproof when you dont need it, than fleshy when you do. Wow, thats a big change for you, Lucy said. Werent you running headfirst into danger wearing barely any armour just two days ago? I really like the armour. Its kind of awesome to get shot and have it only feel like someone poking you with a finger. Well, dont get used to standing in the way of bullets, alright, she said. I laughed. Fine, fine. Actually... we should get you some armour for the gala. Do you really want to miss seeing me in a pretty dress? Lucy asked. Maybe something like my armoured suit, then? The one under the big, bulky armour. Oh, well in that case Ill need a whole different style of dress. Something more corpo-chique. You know, shoulder pads and a few contrasting layers. That way the undersuit just looks like its part of the rest. Id worry less if you were equipped like that, I said. Hmph, hypocrite, Lucy said. I nodded. You know it. I watched her flip through a dozen dresses, then back again. She was clearly looking for a specific style, something kind of blocky and formal. It wasnt as sexy, but it would have room to conceal a gun or two, which was pretty hot. How are the kittens, by the way? I feel like I only see them in passing. Depends on the kitten. Spark and Bargain and Tim are fine. Theyre having a lot of fun just messing around in the penthouse. The Twins are more quiet than usual. I think theyre spending a lot of time online. We might need to ask Myalis to check on them, you know how echo-feeds are. And Nose is... confused, I think? By what? I asked. Oh, the gold is pretty. She nodded, and the next dozen dresses all had golden highlights to them, or golden cloth on their inner layers, mostly the dresses were all black though, maybe to fit with my armour? I didnt know fashion like Lucy did. I think he expected to be dead soon, and now hell be fine. It could be some sort of weird reverse depression thing? Ill keep an eye on him, make sure the others include him more. He was always a bit quiet. When he wasnt sniffling all over, yeah. Daniel might leave one day, but I think hes pretty happy just being lazy right now. And hes still bad at walking, but hes getting better. I think hes spending half the day flirting with girls online. I snorted. I couldnt imagine him flirting, not well at least. Junior? Katherine? Getting along well with each other, Lucy said. I think they really clicked. Like, click-clicked, or theyre just friends. Just friends, Lucy said. I think Junior wants to go out and have adventures and start shit, like any girl her age, but Katherine is a lot more level-headed. Shed want to bring her dog too. Yeah, thats good. If they ever get into any trouble... Lucy giggled. Ill tell you right away. I hugged her from the side, then sighed. How long does it take to find a dress anyway? You cant rush perfection, Cat. Myalis has been spoiling you. *** Chapter Forty-Nine - Peter Chapter Forty-Nine - Peter Chapter Forty-Nine - Peter Certain companies discovered that they could extract greater revenue from their clients in the form of services as opposed to products. Adobe pioneered some of this in the software market, but many other companies followed suit. To oversimplify the matter: a company would provide the client with a rented, un-owned version of whatever software the client needed in order to operate. That means that at any time the company owning the software can pull it away from their clients. Algorithms were pioneered that allowed the service provider to do just that at the most optimal time so that their clients would more easily surrender additional money in the form of fee payments and service costs. Essentially, by turning a buy-and-sell economy into a rent-and-blackmail one, a company can earn much greater profits, though at the expense of losing the occasional client, and putting their CEOs at higher risk of sudden life termination events. --A Guide to Modern Business, 2034 *** After Lucy and I met with Burringham, we had one last chore to take care of. Peter Silverbloom. According to Myalis--who I just assumed was right about this kind of thing--Peter was currently working out of some building on the edges of the more residential part of New Montreal, insofar as the city could really be divided into parts so cleanly. Lucy and I left the clothes store, one of the butlers promising us that her dress would be on our doorstep by the morning, and my wallet feeling a tiny fraction lighter (though the price of Lucys dress had me reeling a bit, it was the most expensive thing Id ever bought, house aside). We dropped back down to the ground floor of the building, then hopped into a taxi. So, whos this dude? Lucy asked. Apparently hes some bigshot volunteer sort of guy. He might be able to help us with the whole Sewer Dragons thing. I guess they cant stay at Gomorrahs place forever. They cant, I agreed. And they shouldnt be left the way they are. All prostheticd up, I mean. They at least deserve to have proper replacements for all of their limbs and shit. Which would be wildly expensive. Id looked into artificial limbs before, what with my arm being missing for... most of my life really. The cheaper ones cost half a years rent in a shack, and that was for a simple, three-jointed arm that didnt have any servos or complex mechanical parts, just cheap Taiwanese plastics and a few recycled metal joints. Something that could move and articulate simply was a whole lot more expensive, and one of those fancy better-than-flesh models cost as much as a brand new car, and that was without the brain implants needed to run it, the constant software updates, and the other little expenses that came with it. Most of those werent even properly sold, they were rented to people. Basically, it would be a bitch and a half to get enough arms and legs and other shit to outfit as many as Gomorrah and I had pulled from the sewers. It actually made what Doc Hack did a little impressive, in retrospect. No less fucked up, but still impressive. He cobbled together prosthetics from what looked like nothing, maybe with a few aftermarket parts jammed in here and there. And by all accounts, they worked. The Sewer Dragons were able to move and fight. Probably not as well as someone running off of their human 1.0 hardware, but they were better suited to life in the sewers than a normie. Whatre you thinking about? Lucy asked. Nice place, Lucy said. Very, I agreed. It was actually kind of homey. The decor reminded me a lot of the orphanage, that strange kind of aesthetic that was straddling the line between trash, trashy, and grunge. There was an art to making shit look good. The speakers crackled as we arrived, and Lucy and I got off on a floor with a higher ceiling and more room to walk around in. It looked like Peter was staying on one of the mall floors, where all the stores and clinics and such were stuffed away. Fake tiles lined the floors, broken up in some places, and there were vending machines shoved against every wall that could fit one, little jingles competing to be the most annoying. The map pointed us around the elevator back, and down a wide road that stretched out through the building, across a bridge, and into the next building over. There were even a few electric carts parked along the road or driving around with some overweight people behind the wheel. At least it smells better here., Lucy commented. There were a few street vendors gathered around, some still being operated by people instead of androids. McVendors still like having zit-faced teens behind the counters. Thirsty? I asked. Just for you, Lucy said. I snorted as I bumped shoulders with her. It should be... right there, I said as I compared the map to what I was seeing. Peter, as it turned out, was in an old storefront that had been converted into a tax office of sorts. The old fixtures for whatever sign was there before were still visible over the entrance. The current name was some incomprehensible jumble of letters. Lucy and I walked in. The entrance had a big conference table, with some mismatched chairs around it, to the side were a few cubicle walls, mostly there to split off the desks in that part of the room from the rest of the area. A huge printer at the back had a FUCKED sign taped to it and a smaller printer buzzing atop it. The only thing that looked less than ten years old was the coffee machine in one corner. Somehow it still shined like it was new and was sitting on what looked like a throne as if it was revered by the people working here. Oh, hey? a twenty-something girl asked. She looked like she was told to dress in office chic but couldnt be arsed to go the whole way and had stuck to wearing a nice blouse tucked into sweatpants. Whats up? Uh, I said. If youre here for help with your taxes, then you need an appointment. If child protection stole your kid, then we can get you in touch with the right people. If you want to rob us, then fuck off, we barely have a grand between the twenty of us, and if youre looking for some other sort of help, well then it depends but we might be able to help. I was looking for Peter, Peter Silverbloom, I said. One of her eyebrows rose and she tugged a pack of gum out of a pocket. What for? You government? Corpo? Im a samurai, so neither. Uh-huh, she said, entirely dismissing what Id said. I frowned while Lucy started to giggle next to me. *** Chapter Fifty - Sans But Lucratif Chapter Fifty - Sans But Lucratif Chapter Fifty - Sans But Lucratif Non-profits can be easily split into two broad categories: Corporate non-profits, which are usually run by the PR, propaganda, or public image department of a company, though the non-profit itself will be its own entity on paper. These exist to make the main company appear more family friendly or somewhat concerned with the communitys welfare. Community non-profits, which are usually run by members of the local community, and who exist solely to take care of an issue that a few members of the region have decided to champion in their own time and with their own funds. More often than not, the community based non-profits will fold once they begin to encroach on a corporate non-profit. They cannot be allowed to steal the good image that a corporation is paying large sums to maintain. --Quote from a Discourse on Challenges of the Modern Community, 2039 *** It took a minute to convince the secretary that yes, I was a samurai, and no, I wasnt at their little non-profit to murder or ortherwise harm Peter. I was beginning to suspect that she had something of a crush on the man we were looking for. Peters office is back here, she said as she gestured to the back, the bangles on her wrists jingling with the motion. Lead on, I said. So, you two both samurai? Like, for real-real? I shook my head. Just me. Lucy heres my friend. Yes, Im Cats friend, Lucy said. I shot her a look, but she was wearing a shit-eating grin that promised future teasing, so I decided that Id wait a while before explaining myself.Fo?llo?w new stories at novelhall.com Peters office at the back wasnt anything special. This wasnt someone that had a fancy set up, either because he didnt have the budget for it, or because he didnt want to look like he had the budget. Then again, if Myalis suggested that he was working off of a shoestring budget, then I trusted her. The girl knocked on the offices glass door. Peter, you have some highbrow guests here. Oh, Im highbrow now, Lucy said. Thats good? Peter asked. He was obviously looking for the problem. Its alright, I said. The problem is the people we saved. We have something like two hundred people that were chopped up and given prosthetics against their will. Were talking two hundred pairs of legs, a load of internals, probably a heap of other medical issues, and a whole lot of trauma, I imagine. Thats more serious than I expected, Peter said. What do you plan to do with all of them? Are you helping them? Were doing what we can, but right now were kind of torn. We either try to save these two hundred or so people, and dont get me wrong, we totally can save them. Or we focus on fixing the sewer system before everyone in the entire city has to live without any water and no flushing toilets. Peter leaned forwards, elbows on the table. Thats going to hit the poor hardest, he said. Everyone in the lower-middle brackets wont be able to afford bottled water if the prices jump, and theyre the ones more likely to rely on public utilities for their water. Its a pretty big mess, I said. Were trying to get things fixed before it really goes to shit, but it might be a close call. And no, before you ask, we cant really just... samurai the problem away. Or we could, but not well. We just dont have the resources to patch everything. It was a bit of a sour point, but Id gone over it with Myalis. Even with drones and automatic systems in place, I wouldnt have the points needed to fix the entire sewer system. Maybe if it was just one issue. Some problem with acidic water, or if we needed new filters. There were plenty of smaller issues I could take care of. The machine back home could make the materials to fix some parts of the system, but not at the speed and not at the quantity needed to fix everything. Maybe Deus Ex could do it, drop a hundred thousand points into something huge to fix everything, but I wasnt there yet, and the more points I spent on this problem, the fewer I had to use in the next incursion. Ive basically thrown the issue on some up-and-coming political sort. And if he doesnt fix things... I dont know, I guess Ill make him drink sewer water until he changes his mind about fucking with the lives of everyone in the city. We dont need a riot because the waters gone bad. Peter pursed his lips, then shook his head. Youre overestimating peoples ability to be violent. Huh? Lucy asked. People that will be violent will be violent in response to something immediate, something happening in front of them or thats making them angry then and there. But for bigger picture things... Do you know how many dirty politicians were killed in their homes by normal people? Corrupt cops? Theres a cop thats currently on paid leave living two floors up. Hes literally home right now. Whys he off? Lucy asked. Got caught touching a suspect inappropriately, after about thirty complaints like that. He also shot and killed some kid a few months back. He was told to do a search of some apartment and he broke into the wrong place. And no ones done anything? I asked. People arent inherently violent, Peter said. Samurai are the exception. And... and Im going on a tangent, Im sorry. What did you need help with? This water things going to get a lot of good people killed, Ill do whatever you need me to. *** Chapter Fifty-One - Community Feelings Chapter Fifty-One - Community Feelings Chapter Fifty-One - Community Feelings Theres an essential mistrust of the community. A well-honed fear of your own neighbour. Who knows, they might be a thief, a murderer, or a rapist? You certainly dont know. That fear, thats whats keeping us afloat right now. The longer people spend mistrusting their neighbour, the longer itll take them to realize that the person in the same shithole as them isnt the one with the boot on their neck. --Clive Robertson, Head of Public Security for Nimbletainment, 2045 *** I, uh, appreciate it, I said. Now I just felt awkward, and I think Lucy caught on, because of course she did. Actually, Peter, I think Cat was here to ask about something else. Peter looked between Lucy and I. Oh, okay. I jumped to a wrong conclusion then, he said. I assumed that you wanted me to help you... actually, I dont entirely know. We could collect water and perishables now, before this sewer crisis really takes off. A few days of preparation could save a lot of lives. Actually, yeah, that sounds like a fantastic idea, I said.Updated chapters at novelhall.com We do a lot of community outreach here. Foodbanks, shelter prep, school supplies. Theyre all different non-profits, because we need to compartmentalize things, but all of them keep in touch, we have boards online where to share things. If you want, I can get word out that theres going to be a water shortage. Its happened before, we know what to do. It wouldnt hurt, I said. But yeah, Lucys right. I mostly came here to ask about something entirely different. Peter leaned his elbows down onto his borrowed desk. Well, Im listening. If it''s going to save people, then Im definitely in. Those people that the Sewer Dragons kidnapped, the ones I mentioned before, we need to help them, right now Gomorrah and I are focused on saving the city, but Id feel pretty fucking awful about myself if I left them to rot, and I doubt theres any system in place to help. That would require medical assistance for a lot of people, Peter said. It is a lot, I said. Do you think you can help? You wont be too surprised to know that this kind of thing comes up often. Usually its someone in the community that needs an operation, or some new organ, or who lost a limb in one of the factories. When people cant afford the help they need, they often turn to us, and we in turn turn to the rest of the community. Ive done more charity runs than I can count. Peter stood up and rushed to the door to help us out. We made some meaningless small talk on the way out, and finally broke off as soon as we were back out in the main corridor. We were out of there fast, Lucy said. Yeah, sorry, I said. Just... I dont know. Not a bad feeling, just, Im feeling jittery? Sexy jittery or annoying jittery. Annoying, I said. Weve done nothing but talk to people all day, that and a bit of moving around. It feels like at any moment things will go tits up, in a bad way. Lucy looped an arm around mine and pulled me closer. You worry too much, she said. Maybe we should head back home, try to relax you a bit? I sighed, then leaned back into her. Yeah, that does sound nice. And maybe that pretty dress of mines arrived, I can put on a show for you? Or ... nah, maybe we can just order something from room service, find some PJs and do some cuddling? That did sound nice. We dont have PJs. Well, itll either have to be nothing but some old t-shirts, or we can order some same-hour delivery clothes. Whichever you think would be more fun. I laughed, then turned as Lucy gave me a quick peck on the cheek. Youre taking on too much again, she said. Always playing the big damn hero, but never looking out for herself. Dont get me wrong, I think heroes are hot, but I prefer the live ones. So you need to take a break when you can afford to, okay? I guess, I said. Youre not responsible for everyones lives, Cat. But I am responsible for yours, so if I tell you that you need a break, Im being serious. Oh, youre responsible for me, huh? Damn right, Lucy said with unflappable certainty. Now lets get home, my feet are killing me. *** Chapter Fifty-Two - Collar and Leash Chapter Fifty-Two - Collar and Leash Chapter Fifty-Two - Collar and Leash Why? Why cant we just be kind to each other? Is that too damned much to ask for? Just a shred of decency? A bit of empathy? Every damned religion is about making themselves look good and everyone else look like madmen. Every country does the same damned thing. We split into parties and degrade each other, always whipped on by some greedy fuck who just wants to make himself a tiny bit more powerful. Why? Its just hurting people. Its just looking at your fellow man like theyre not even worth being considered human anymore? Cant we just be kind to each other? Fuck! Its not even hard! Just put yourself in their shoes. A kid could do it! Stop thinking that everyone is an enemy, just because theyre a little bit different. Stop putting money before the lives of your neighbours. Stop being a cunt even though its the only thing you know. I didnt want it to come to this, damnit! --Final Words of the Senate Bomber, 2028 *** My arms asleep, I complained idly. I can move, Lucy said, though she didnt actually make any effort to move. We were both on that fancy bed, sprawled out and enjoying the luxuriant comfort of brand new PJs. Lucy was tucked into my side, where she fit snugly, and we had thick sheets over us, the fancy self-warming kind that were just shy of uncomfortably warm. I yawned, but even though I was tired and it was getting late, I wasnt really ready to sleep. I just wanted to cuddle, to recharge because the next day was going to be troublesome. Nah, dont, I said. I pulled Lucy a bit closer into my side, numb arm be damned. Lucy made a content little noise and turned onto her side, one arm wrapping itself around my torso even as she put her head on my shoulder. Sleepy? Nah, I lied. Thinking too much. About? Tomorrow, I said. We need to get you some more protection stuff. Just in case. Ill be fine, Lucy said. Im hardly anyones priority. My role is to be the pretty eye-candy. Yeah, but youre my eye-candy, and I want you intact. Lucy chuckled, and I was distracted for a moment by the sensation against my side of her restrained laughter. Youre like a kitten that doesnt want to share. Lucy would like that, and it did sound like a decent idea. If things went crooked, which they might, having an eject button that would immediately pull Lucy out of danger and place her somewhere safe would be awesome. Maybe the drop-off point could be right here, over the bed. A soft landing, and she could check out the kittens and make sure things were safe here while I took care of whatever triggered the teleportation device. The device can trigger based on vital signs, on a manual trigger from you, or it can be set to trigger at my discretion, for example in the case of an immediate threat that neither you nor Lucy can perceive. I quirked an eyebrow at that. The time it takes for you to twitch a muscle can feel like relative years to an AI such as myself. I could trigger a teleportation device, enter all the relevant parameters, and have Lucy be beyond the range of any trouble in the time it takes for the bullet of the average handgun pressed up against her skin to exit the barrel. I blinked. Sometimes Myalis was a little scary. Then again, she was scary while being protective of Lucy, which I was super okay with. I sent her a text. Thanks. Ill take it. Lucy needs new augs too. That can be arranged quite easily. Her own are laughably out of date, even by the Earth standards. They were also riddled with viruses, spyware, and several backdoors that were either datamining her, or using her augs processing power to mine cryptographic currencies. Were? I sent. Obviously, I could not risk cross-contamination with your own augmentations and equipment, so I removed any such interference. The childrens equipment was likewise cleaned when I had a moment to spare. Though her equipment, even with better software, is still terribly inefficient. Your own is an order of magnitude better, but still lags behind compared to what I wish you had. I nodded before sending another text. Thanks. Myalis and her help was... basically more than half the reason I was a threat as a samurai. Sure, I could shoot some CEO, but Myalis transferring the contents of their bank accounts to some charities was a lot more devastating for a company. Youre very welcome, Catherine. Now, you should consider sleeping. Your day tomorrow is likely going to require a lot of energy to get through. I shook my head. Lucys still awake, I texted. She is not. Blinking, I stretched my head to the side. Lucy had a hand bawled into a fist next to her mouth and was squeezed into my side in a way that I couldnt imagine being all that comfortable. Still, she was breathing softly, eyes shut against the soft light from above the four-poster. I glanced over to the smart-light above, closed my meat eye because staring at a light was stupid, and flicked over to my cyberwarfare tools. Using those to turn off a light without speaking up might have been overkill, but it worked, so I was hardly going to complain. Lucy muttered something in her sleep, so I snuggled around to hug her better, then I pulled up the blankets until they were tucked in just under her neck. It wouldn''t last. Lucy moved in her sleep. Id been woken up by enough kicks to the shin to know that much about her. I kissed Lucy on the forehead, and she mumbled something before making a kiss noise right back at me. I couldnt help a chuckle. Good night, Lucy, I said. And good night, Myalis. Goodnight, Catherine. Sleep well. *** Chapter Fifty-Three - The Gem Chapter Fifty-Three - The Gem Chapter Fifty-Three - The Gem A diamond is a womans best friend. But a goddess is adorned in painite. --Pandora ad, 2049 *** Lucy spun around, then came to a dizzying stop. The long pleats of her dress wrapped around her legs before gently unfolding. What do you think? she asked. You look gorgeous, I said. She really did look great. The dress was all dark purples and lighter grays. A sort of jacket-thing with padded shoulders that sank down to a thin waist and that wrapped around her hips. The main portion of the dress was a smooth, silky material, with a generous window over her bust and enough support to make things more interesting. It was still functional though, pretty without getting in the way. My points were down to 10,644, but that did mean that I had two things to present to Lucy. Unfortunately I didnt have a better box for them than the ones theyd come with. I have gifts, I said. Oh? Lucy asked. She turned away from the mirror and looked my way. What sort of gifts? I handed her the larger of the two boxes. Thats... a meh gift. Its a thigh holster, for your handgun. Lucy oohed appropriately and opened the little case to reveal the straps within. They were the same grey as part of her dress, even the texture on the surface matching. Nice. Myalis has an eye for detail, huh? Uh, well, I did ask for something youd like, I said. Lucy laughed and pulled me into a hug. Thanks. Itll look great. Really complete that famme-fatal look. Uh-huh, I said. I have two more gifts, I said.Ne/w novel chapters are published at novelhall.com Oh, gifts plural. You know, what with the dress and the shoes and now the thigh holster--which is admittedly a bit weird--Im starting to feel a bit overwhelmed here. I snorted. Youll like this one, I said. Turn around. Lucy turned, and I walked her sideways so that she was standing in front of the mirror. Alright, she said, meeting my eyes through the reflection. The next gift is this, I said, a hand coming to the side. Myalis, the augs. Here you go. New Purchase: Cyber warfare Capable Class One Augmentation Points Reduced to... 10,594! The package was fairly large, and I had to use both hands to open it, ruining the moment I wanted to make a little. Inside it was a large tubular syringe, with a pad on one end and a thumb-trigger in the middle. I need to press this into your eye, I said. Oh, yuck, Lucy said. She made a face, but then brought a hand up to her left eye. Should I keep it as wide open as I can? You dont mind? I asked. Think so. Looks like the same samurai as in that Two Girls One Flamer meme, she said. Please dont look at any meme that Im part of, I said, knowing full well that it would be easier to ask the sun not to set. Whatever, Junior said. Ive done my part. Shes in the living room. Right. Thanks. I shut the door then turned and started looking for my clothes. Wheres my under armour, I need to get dressed too. I can go play distraction for a while, Lucy said. She pecked me on the cheek on the way out. Your stuffs all on that chair, by the way. Thanks, I said. I didnt take too long to squeeze into all of my gear. Then I ran into the washroom and jumped into my armour, which had fortunately dried up, and didnt stink of anything. After securing my helmet on and making sure that my jacket was on straight, I left the room and stomped--quietly--over to the living room. Gomorrah was there, in full regalia, though her mask was left on the kitchen counter and she was sipping some soda through a straw. Frannie was sitting on one of the stools, an amused smile on as she teased Nose who seemed to have a lot of questions today. Or a sudden crush on the redheaded nun. Hey, I said. I took off my helmet and set it next to Gomorrahs mask. Didnt know if youd show up. Its an excuse to get away from the church, and to actually get something done. Yesterday was an... interesting day. Any trouble? I asked. Plenty, Gomorrah said. Frannie laughed. The sisters were nice to all the refugees the first day. Now, their patience is wearing thin. So much for proper demeanor and candor. Figures, I said. So you wanted to come with? Gomorrah nodded. Itll mean a day away from all the drama. I think the threat of me returning eventually should be enough to keep everyone in line, at least for an afternoon. And it means that I wont have to be there. You know, the sisters used to boss me around? Now, they cant take a bath without asking for permission first. Literally? I asked. She glared. I was being figurative, of course. Lucy giggled. Of course. Itll be fun to be with others. It can be a double date! Gomorrahs face froze for just a moment before she composed herself. Frannie is just coming with me to get out of the church as well, she said. Yeah, Frannie said a little too quickly. Its stuffy over there. Lucy and I glanced at each other and communicated a novels worth to each other in a few seconds. Well, whatever you say, I said. Do you think we can head over in the Fury? Itll be nicer than taking a taxi over. Will Gomorrah need an invite? Lucy asked. Jeff might be surprised if two samurai show up when hes expecting one. And youre supposed to bring a plus one, not plus three. There might not be enough seats or whatever. Ill send him a text, I said. It was a decent idea. We can use the Fury, Gomorrah agreed. Should we head out now, or... I guess? I said. It was a bit past noon. The gala was an evening thing, but being early did not hurt. It was that or we stayed here and chatted. You know what, lets head over now. If were too early, we can piss off and go do something fun to kill time. *** Chapter Fifty-Four - Moments Chapter Fifty-Four - Moments Chapter Fifty-Four - Moments There are between a hundred and fifty and two hundred galas of importance every year. Half of these are directly in service to something. Modelling shows, auctions, art trades, art exhibits, fund-raisers, political plays, and a few other niche events make up the majority of the social events for the well-to-do. Being invited to all of them is next to impossible. Still, a proper socialite should try to attend at least two such galas a month, not including the more seasonal Christmas and mid-summer events. This, of course, means a certain level of preparedness... --Excerpt from Socializing for the Nouveau-Riche, a Primer, 2046 *** Gomorrah drove us around the top of the skyscraper, the car angling to the side just enough that we could really take it in. I had a certain set of expectations for what the gala would look like. Lots of fancy folk, some champaign and maybe some dancing? It looked as though Burringhams gala took up the entire topmost floor of a skyscraper, a whole section had glass walls and a glass ceiling, all that right next to the landing pads where a couple of cars were already idling away. We werent the only people snooping around. There were drones with flickering safety lights buzzing around the building like circling vultures, and a pack of paparazzi were stalking by the entrance, only held back by some red velvet and mounted guns. Gomorrah swooped in and landed us with a faint lurch right next to the end of the red carpet. The Fury probably looked strange next to all the Italian sports cars with its more muscle-car like aesthetics. Ill set the auto-pilot to fly circles around the area, Gomorrah said. Well have close air support if we need it. Ah, right, its always better to have close air support and not need it, than to need it and not have it, I said wisely. Lucy giggled in the back, and I grinned as I shoved the door open. A few lights flashed and I couldnt help but overhear the dozens of paparazzi asking themselves who the hell we were. They sounded like seagulls arguing over fries. I stepped to the back and opened the door for Lucy. She made a show of stepping out one long leg at a time and of delicately taking my hand to help herself out. Frannie opened her own door and stomped out with a glare for anyone who cared to look. With Lucy hanging off my arm, a huge grin on, we walked across the carpet with Gomorrah and Frannie trailing behind us and dutifully ignored the calls and questions and occasional camera flashes. This is amusing.Updated chapters at novelhall.com Whats amusing? I asked after making sure my helmet was blocking any sound from exiting. A bit of classical music was playing quietly in the background, more than enough to make it hard to overhear the few conversations going on. So far, there didnt seem to be that many people present. A dozen or so in all, mostly grouped up in little bunches across the room and chatting to each other. Sometimes a hearty laugh would echo out across the hall, but otherwise it seemed perfectly quiet. There was staff, of course, and I saw some discretely adding a few chairs to some of the tables while others did some last minute prep work. Looks like were early, I said. Thats fine, Gomorrah replied. We can sit down and just do nothing. Itll be a nice change of pace. We could dance, Lucy said. Theres music playing. She turned to me, stars in her eyes and an easy smile on her lips. Do you know how to dance? I teased. She pouted, but that soon faded in favour of a dangerous grin. No, but you know how enthusiastic I can be about learning new... physical activities. Urgh, Frannie said. I glanced her way only to find her looking away, her cheeks matching her hair. Jeff Burringham has been notified of your presence and is on his way. Ah, I said. Burringham is coming. I could see the guy walking with one of the serving staff next to one of the discrete doors hidden next to some elaborate statue thing. Lets say hi to him, you can show off your pretty dress, and then we can see about that dance? That does sound nice, Lucy said. Our little group idled over to the side, towards a table whose QR code labelled it as the one reserved for us. We were more or less right across from the stage and right next to the table where Burringham himself was sitting. A place of pride? Or just somewhere that Burringham could show us off? Stray Cat! the man in question said as he approached, his arms raised in a happy greeting. And Miss Gomorrah. Im afraid we havent met yet, but I have heard of your exploits. Youre one of the citys shining jewels. Thank you, Mister Burringham, Gomorrah said rather coldly. Im merely doing what I can to help. I hope that youre someone who takes your responsibilities just as seriously as I do. I think youll find that I am, he said. Ive already begun contacting a few friends to get things moving along in the sewers, since the two of you brought it to the citys attention. We have inspectors down there right now, and a few journalists have started to investigate the entire matter. Im making it a big part of my campaign. But enough about that, I want to make sure youre all quite comfortable. Is there anything I can bring you? I think were fine, I said. Though, maybe bring the volume up a notch? Lucy wants to test out your dance floor. Burringham looked surprised for a moment before he grinned. Ill do you one better, just give me two whole minutes. And Miss Lucy, your dress is stunning. Thank you! Lucy chirped. The guy had his moments. *** Chapter Fifty-Five - Dancing to the Music Chapter Fifty-Five - Dancing to the Music Chapter Fifty-Five - Dancing to the Music Aint no bitch like a corpo bitch. --Common corporate idiom, origin dates back to early 2020s *** I had to thank Burringham later. He found a pianist, some older guy with greying hair and a nice suit who sat behind the grand piano on the stage and started to play this nice, slow piece. The sound echoed across the hall, brilliant, upbeat notes that sounded happy. Lucy loved it. She was grinning ear to ear as I held her close and guided her around in little circles. We didnt know how to dance, and neither of us gave a shit. I raised an arm above Lucys head and she spun around before I pulled her in again. The pianist somehow managed to change the timing on the fly, so that it looked like we were dancing in sync with the music. I didnt know what Burringham was paying the guy, but it wasnt enough.Updated chapters at novelhall.com For all that the dancing was fun, it didnt last all that long. After five minutes, Lucy was huffing and puffing, face reddening around her cheeks, and our dance turned less energetic as she collapsed against my chest and I held her close so she could catch her breath. That was nice, she said. But, ah, I think I need a minute to breathe, and a drink. I chuckled. We can dance more whenever you feel like it, you know. Big fancy gala or no. Lucy grinned up at me. I wish you werent wearing that helmet, you deserve a kiss for that. I think I deserve a lot of kisses, I said. Lucy laughed and pulled back. The pianist seamlessly moved into a piece that sounded a little more neutral, like expensive elevator music, and I found myself being tugged along towards a table next to some large vases that had punch bowls and bottles of wine and a man in a butlers outfit pouring cups for people. I realized then that I couldnt really eat without taking my helmet off, which was going to be a problem later. For now, it was enough that Lucy could grab a cup of some fruity looking punch with ice in it that the butler poured for her. Okay, so, what kind of political bullshittery are we going to do here today? Lucy asked. I quirked an eyebrow at that, realized she couldnt see the skepticism on my face, then spoke to Myalis. Think we can get one of those breakdowns like Lucy wants? Most influential dirtbags list. Maybe a hot and cold meter, but for importance? Im certain I can accommodate. Though you really should consider investing in a Social Warfare catalogue if you want this kind of thing to work better. All I can do now is simulate a limited and less accurate version of what the software in those catalogues could manage. Im sure youll do great, I told her. I didnt exactly feel like investing points into something like that, not right then and there. Though I bet it was all sorts of fucked up at higher tiers. If a weapons catalogue went from pew-pew handguns to planet fucker, then I figured a social program went from learn to be less awkward to mind-fuck the population. I followed Lucy as she guided me over to a small group to one side. Myalis gave me names, as well as their careers. We had a bunch of C-something-Os, all of them women in nice dresses, though none were quite as nice as Lucy. One of them, a supervisory board member (whatever the fuck that meant) from Sunrise Weapons turned our way and smiled. Hello, she said. When Burringham boasted that wed have a real live samurai at the gala, I thought he was full of himself, I didnt expect there to actually be two. Its a pleasure to meet you. Im Sarah. She extended a hand right past Lucy and to me. This is Sarah Mauve, shes the CHRO for a political lobbying company. Shes an expert in public perception manipulation for fringe clients. At least, thats what Ive read off of her bio. Lucy grabbed her hand and shook. I had the impression she wasnt gripping Sarahs perfectly manicured hand lightly, either. Hi Sarah. Im Lucy. This is Cat. Hello, I said. I couldn''t--and didnt bother--disguising the humour in my voice. Sorry to butt in, we were just a bit bored. Figured we might as well make some more friends while we were here, Lucy added. These kinds of things are more fun when you know people, right? Of course, Sarah said, her artificial smile never wavering. My augs suggested that a good chunk of her face was as artificial as the smile. She gestured to the other women one by one, introducing them as she went. I forgot the names nearly instantly. At least I had Myalis little notes over their faces to help me pretend that I was paying attention. When Sarah was done presenting everyone, Lucy started to dig into her. I think that Sarah had placed herself as the top of the pack, and that meant that she was the biggest bitch here, at least as far as Lucy was concerned. I love your dress Sarah, Lucy said while reaching over to pinch some of the fabric of one of Sarahs sleeves. They were made of some thicker, shiny material. Is this plastic? I like it, it matches the plastic of your skin. Thank you, Sarah said. I like your necklace, very thrifty. You like it? I asked. I just got it for her today. Its worth more than this building. That was probably a lie, but Sarah was a bitch, so I didnt really care. Lucy touched the necklace with the tips of her fingers, then shrugged. I find it pretty, she said. Anyway, is everyone here representing a different company tonight? That seemed more familiar ground to the others, who were eager to drop whatever Sarah was on in order to shill their company, especially when Lucy started asking them what those companies did and seemed genuinely curious to hear them all speak. Lucy could be scary sometimes. It was kind of hot. *** Chapter Fifty-Six - Speaking Up Chapter Fifty-Six - Speaking Up Chapter Fifty-Six - Speaking Up North America is an interesting study in the long-term effects of propaganda. Most countries have a strong media presence that constantly repeats to their citizens that their country is the best. The US propaganda arm was both subversive and constant, and its citizens ate it up. That was, until everything fell apart. --Excerpt from A History of Patriotism and Propaganda, 2031 *** Youve been busy, Gomorrah said as I sat down next to her. Yeah, I guess so, I said. It certainly wasnt wrong. Lucy and I had spent the better part of two hours standing in more or less the same spot and talking to an entire ensemble of people. I think Lucy had planned it, first targeting some social folk who would welcome her questions, and then waiting for their plus-ones to come and join in on the conversation. That eventually led to more and more folk approaching us. I think the plan was to create a space where it was acceptable to just come over and chat. Id shaken more hands in those two hours than I had in the last eighteen years. It was probably for the best though, that I didnt get more than two or three minutes to chat with each person. Any more than that and Lucy butted in to guide them to some other conversation--in a manner that was disturbingly similar to how she handled the kittens--but I managed to mention that I was here because Burringham agreed to help me fix the sewers a dozen times. Some of those people were important looking guys and gals, CEOs and shit, and a lot of them seemed pretty eager to impress. They reminded me a bit of the younger kids at the orphanage, the way they looked up to Lucy and I and really wanted to make us... care or whatever about their little companies and their recent promotions and shit. And just like the kids at the orphanage, I figured I could get them to do shit for me, just because of that desire to impress. It was seriously strange, and entirely exhausting. Im more tired now than after that night we spent in those caves, I said. Caves? Frannie asked. She was sitting on Gomorrahs other side, nursing a rather fancy (though I imagined non-alcoholic) drink. They were mines, Gomorrah said. This little nowhere town called Black Bear. They had a small off-shoot of the last incursion to hit the city. Gom and I cleaned it up, I said. It wasnt all that fun. Lucy shifted in her seat next to me. You didnt tell me all that much about it, she said. I shrugged. It wasnt all that interesting? I mean, it was scary. We had to scout through these big caves. Tunnels. Or more precisely mineshafts, Gomorrah corrected. The antithesis dug themselves in and started to collect biomass. I think the idea was that theyd be hard to root out after a while and then they would spread out more. You seem honestly good at this kind of thing, Gomorrah said. Would you advise me on what to do? Whatever you want. Cats put herself out there as someone thats willing to at least talk to important people, which is probably going to be both good and bad. Theyll think shes reachable, so they might ask her for help, or offer things, and both of those could be either good or bad, I guess. Great, I said. I think my voice made it clear that I thought it was anything but. Lucy leaned into my side. Dont worry, Myalis and I can tell anyone trying to do product placements and stuff like that to piss off. Well, at least theres that, I said. I sat up a little straighter as someone walked out from the crowd surrounding our end of the hall and walked right up to our table. Burringham, and his faithful secretary. He grinned as he sat across from me. Hey, I said. Hey yourself, he replied. Youve made quite the splash tonight, both of you. Im glad you seem to be enjoying yourselves. Its not too bad, I said. Though Im starting to wonder when the food will come around. He nodded to his secretary whose eyes went blank while she stared at her clipboard-pad-thing. Ill make sure you only have the best. Itll be worth the wait, promise. I just wanted to say hi and make sure things were going well. I know we agreed that Id work on the sewer issue--which is important enough that it needs to be addressed anyway--but I was wondering if there was anything else. Im about to make a small speech, and while its last minute, I might be able to squeeze in a mention of any passing issues you have. Thats awfully kind of you, Gomorrah said with more diplomacy than I could probably muster. I appreciate the gesture, but I think that, like Cat, Im mostly focused on bettering the city, and myself. You really are New Montreals gems, Burringham said. He tapped the table, then pushed himself up. Ill be back after my little speech. Dont worry, it wont be too boring. At least, I hope it wont be. Break a leg, I said. Burringham left, his secretary trailing after him again. It didnt take long for the crowds to start to disperse, enough that we could make out Burringham on stage, grinning and laughing with someone before he stepped up to a podium. Hello everyone, he said. That quieted down the last of those talking, and there was a sudden rush of people going to their seats. Dont worry everyone, I wont talk your ears off. I havent eaten either, and having passed by the kitchens I can think of little else but chowing down, Burringham said. He was smiling, and despite the unfunniness of his joke, it still got a few easy chuckles from the crowd. Today is a very special day. Were here to meet each other, trade some good gossip, and have a good time, but Id like to take just a moment of everyones time to talk about a few important things. I reached up and wrapped an arm around Lucys shoulders. I didnt believe that it would be short, not for a moment. First, Id like to thank you all for coming. It would have been quite embarrassing if none of you showed up to my gala. Catherine. I thought it would be wise to inform you that theres a person with a gun across the room. They seem to be about to fire on Jeff Burringham. Fuck, I said. I knew things were going to go pear-shaped. *** Chapter Fifty-Seven - Assassination Chapter Fifty-Seven - Assassination Chapter Fifty-Seven - Assassination Assassinations are--of all the black jobs--somewhat expensive. The price, of course, varies. If the target is the average civilian with a public-facing job with low security, then it can cost as little as 500,000 credits to have them shot by an amateur gunman. The price tends to rise from there, unfortunately, but we do make sure that those prices are justified, and we also have an industry-wide price-match guarantee on any and all contracts taken out. Its a very competitive business, after all. --Interview with Professor Hands, President of Off-Corp LLC, 2048 *** I glanced up and found the man immediately, the red outline that Myalis was painting on my augs helping to spot him. He was a normal-looking kind of guy, a bit sweaty in his six-figure three-piece, but otherwise he didnt stand out from the other corpo-likes attending the gala. Just another guy here to chat it up, drink some expensive crap, and listen to Burringham talk about how great he was. The difference was that most of the other corpos in the building didnt have guns mounted on the inside of their forearms, and if they did, they werent aiming them at Burringham. I reached my arm around and shoved Lucy back. Her chair tipped over and she screamed as she flailed. Sorry, I said, but my attention was elsewhere. Lucy was safe-ish, at least I hoped shed be out of the way of any shooting. My augs locked onto the assassin and my cyberwarfare software cut through his security as if they were little more than cobwebs. I had a lot of options from there, but turning all of his augs off seemed the easiest. He noticed, it was obvious, the way his eyes widened and his arm went limp. Burringham was safe.Updated chapters at novelhall.com Then the asshole grabbed his prosthetic arm with his meaty one, tugged his wrist down at an angle that looked frankly disgusting, and he aimed it towards the podium. The bang of the first shot was like... well, a gunshot in a crowded room. People screamed, some ducked under tables, and Burringhams speech cut off with a scream. The railguns in the back of my suit deployed, unfolding with smooth efficiency before both of them fired, leaving twin lines of smoke in the air connecting me to the gunman. Shit, Gomorrah said in a very unnunlike fashion. She stood up, grabbed an indignant Frannie, and moved her closer to Lucy. Go, she said to me. The implication was clear. Shed keep Lucy and Frannie safe while I went out and took care of all the more troublesome shit. I nodded to her and jumped onto and over our table. There were two choices here. Either I took care of the gunman, or I tried to see if I could do anything for Burringham. In the suddenness I didnt see if he was injured or not. The gunman might give me answers, but Burringhams health mattered more. That decided it for me. I shot off towards the stage and arrived just as the first of Burringhams security detail reached him. I found some beefy guy stepping up ahead of me, but I shoved him to the side and dropped to one knee next to Burringham. He wasnt shot anywhere nice and romantic like the shoulder or in the leg, instead he had a nice pinprick wound right in his side. His arm was probably raised to gesture when he got hit. One of the guards moved in close, he had a red cross on his shoulder, and had a large first-aid kit that he dropped on the table above Burringhams head. Going to monitor his vitals. What did you administer? he asked as if making conversation about the weather. Its a class two nano regenerative suite, I said. Second tier samurai medical tech. Lots of little nanorobots thatll reconstruct his insides, and, ah... We both watched as a spider drone scuttled out of the box, ran over Burringhams chest, then burrowed into the gunshot wound on his side. W-what was that? Burringham asked. Nothing, I said. The medic only paused for a moment before applying patches to Burringhams chest and flicking open some things on his big kit. He seemed ready to inject Burringham with a whole host of drugs, but was waiting and staring at his displays. Blood pressures staying stable, he said. Bleeding stopped, I said with a gesture to Burringhams chest. There are lots of small metallic fragments spread across his insides. Judging by the radiation readings, the bullet was encased in radioactive materials. I retract what I said about the round being purchased by a Vanguard. Were going to need a small container for radioactive shit, I said. The little spider drone squeezed out of Burrinhhams side with a squelch. It landed on the table, then little pinchers let go of a bloody mess of metallic things before it dug itself back into his wound. Uh, I said. Well take care of it, maam, the medic said. Cool, cool, I said. I backed away, then beelined for a sink where I turned on the tap and washed the hands of my suit. Maam? one of the guards asked as he approached me. There were nine of them in the kitchen by then, just milling around and being very suspicious of all the kitchen staff. The only one that seemed genuinely busy was the medic, and even he was waiting and chatting with Burringham in low tones. Yeah? I asked. The gunman has been apprehended. Hes still alive. Oh, I said. Was anyone else hurt? Those two railgun shots might have... No maam. The hall was locked down, and the guests have been told that things will proceed in a moment. Did you wish to be there for the interrogation? Youre doing that now? I asked. Before the citys police arrive and try to interrupt things, yes, he said. We dont want the city police interfering here. The buildings own PMC branch is helping us secure the area, they dont seem keen on poking their nose in just yet. Well, uh, yeah, count me in, I said. If our guy was still alive, maybe he could tell me why he wanted to interrupt Lucys big night, and kill Burringham. *** 5,000 followers! I figured if anything was worth a bit of celebration, that was it! Chapter Fifty-Eight - Interrogation Chapter Fifty-Eight - Interrogation Chapter Fifty-Eight - Interrogation Gentrification of music and art is a bitch, ya know? Man, used to be that art meant something. Now some punk kid in some backwater shithole neighbourhood makes some trashcan hip-hip about how shit life is, gets picked up by a label, and a week later hes ODed off some blow he sniffed from his new corpo wifes rack, meanwhile, everything hes made, everything he stood for has been mined and broken apart and sold to the highest bidder. --Scoop Doge, from his penthouse suite in Ohio Two, 2051 *** I figured that with about a dozen heavily-armed dudes looking out for him, as well as his nervous secretary, Burringham would be just fine if I left him for a bit. Anyone that could kill that many guards to get to him would probably kill him whether I was there or not. The healing kit Id left jabbed into him would take care of his injuries in the mean-time. Hed be just fine. So, where did you hide the assassin again? I asked. The guard gestured ahead, down one of the corridors that I imagine most guests werent supposed to see. It wasnt nearly as well-decorated and opulent as the rest of the hall. Security room. We have a medic working to keep him alive. Shit, I said. Whats his condition like? Not very good, the guard said. Your shots didnt kill him immediately, thats all I can say. I nodded. Id have to buy a second kit to keep him alive. Great. Thats exactly what I wanted to do. Spend some of my hard-earned points on a man that had just tried to shoot someone. A politician, mind, so it was only like shooting half a person, but it still counted. The security room, as it turned out, wasnt so much a single room as a small area marked off for the guards and the like. There was a small waiting area, with a few couches and a TV against the far wall, as well as a counter with a microwave and minifridge. The other side of the space had a glass door with an armory behind it, and past that a corridor with doors on either side. There was only one door currently being guarded. The guard accompanying me guided me over to that door. It opened into a white-walled room with an interrogation table in the middle cast in harsh industrial light. The gunman was on the table, face locked in a grimace, his clothes tossed off and piled up to the side where someone had obviously cut them all apart. His mechanical arm was missing at the shoulder, and his other hand was handcuffed to the edge of the table. A guard was wiping his chest around an already bloody bandage. How is he? I asked. The man screamed and twisted on the table, tugging at the handcuff as he did so. He opened his mouth, and it was clear that someone had torn out some of his teeth. Hell live, the medic guard said. The shot didnt do him any favours, but it missed most vital things. The shot, singular? I asked. The medic nodded. One hit his mechanical arm. Tore a gash into his back on the exit. Nothing too serious. Second hit him high in the chest. Punctured lung, three broken ribs, some internal bleeding. I have him filled with foam to keep the bleeding down. Havent sedated him. Whys he missing his teeth? I asked with a gesture to his face. The guard looked up. Suicide capsules in his teeth. Aug-linked. They didnt go off. Ah, thats my fault, I said. What? he asked. Sympathy. Specifically mine. See, Myalis doesnt care, shes going to come up with the cold hard facts, and those never make anyone look good. Doesnt matter how vanilla your tastes are, theyll still make some people hurl. Now, your continued existence depends entirely on how I feel about you in the next couple of minutes, and shes not going to paint a pretty picture. Just, just hand me over to the police! Ralph said. No, I replied. I dont want to. He started to twist and fight back, but against the handcuffs holding his arm down, as well as the weight of my suit on his collar, it only made a racket. You cant do this, he said. I... Im literally doing this right now? All Ive done so far is hold you down. I havent even started to ruin your life. Ive, Ive got a wife, and kids!, Ralph said. He doesnt. I jabbed him in the ribs. No lying Ralph, I said. I... come on, Ill pay you! I shook my head. Im richer than you. Which was a weird thing to say. Ten million credits. Fifty million! He really wanted me to like him. What do you want for that many credits? For me not to question you? Please! he begged. I shrugged, then stepped back while leaving a hand on his collar. Hey, you want to question him in my place? Ill do the torturing, you do the questions. I really dont know how this stuff goes anyway. Out of my depth here. Certainly, the guard said. We have training for this. Try not to do anything debilitating. No problem, I said. Wait! Wait! Ralph said. You know, your answers are worth... about fifty to me. Fifty million? Ralph asked. No, points. Thats fifty points worth of vanguard-grade torture equipment. I dont know what thatll look like, but Im sure itll be pretty fucky. Ive got the impression the aliens have seen and done some fucky shit, you know? Hey, hey, Ill tell you what you want to know, please. I dont actually have a torture implement catalogue, I said. But I do have one for sex toys, and Im very sure that theyre close together. You know, putting the M in BDSM. I''ll fucking talk! *** Chapter Fifty-Nine - Popularity Chapter Fifty-Nine - Popularity Chapter Fifty-Nine - Popularity This cask behind me contains thirty-seven point four litres of fermented fruit wine. None of the fruits used in the fermenting process are available on Earth. The cask has been aged six thousand years in a sealed vacuum. This wine, which we are assured is appropriate for human consumption--though we hold no liabilities on such matters--has a providence which can be traced back to the samurai Blitzo, who purchased it directly from the Protectors. It is Lan Igiro wine, cultivated as an alcoholic beverage by an extra-terrestrial species. A treat for any amateur or professional sommelier, and a unique and daring addition to any collection. Please note that our next item is a remarkable cheese, also of extraterrestrial origin. We will begin the bidding at 1,000,000,000 credits. --Excerpt from the 2050 Rarest Goods Auction *** Hey, I said as I approached the table. The main hall was, surprisingly, still full of people. Some waiters were going around and filling peoples cups with champagne. Some people had left, but theyd been replaced by an equal number of additional guards hanging out by the edges of the room. Lucy was sitting between Gomorrah and Frannie, looking rather relaxed with a long champagne flute pinched between her fingers. Hi Cat, she said. Hows Burringham? Gomorrah asked. Alive, I said. Whyre there still people here? They stopping folk from leaving? Oh no, Lucy said. She shook her head. This event went from a cool event to like, the most talked about one. Come on, the host almost got assassinated, the assassin was shot by a samurai, another samurais sitting here, as if she doesnt care about it all. Not that Gomorrah doesnt care, Im just saying. So... what? Its become a sort of bigger event because Burringham almost died? Lucy nodded. You know how we used to run out to the nearest corner store? Which times do you remember best, when nothing went wrong, or when we had to run away from some angry muggers? Alright, fair, I said. Still fucky. Some people left, Lucy said with a shrug. I bet a few of the people here are spamming their media feeds with news about whats happening. Drama chasers. Others are just happy that theyre here. You know theyre showing up in a lot of camera shots, thats food for any celeb. And I bet the media are swarming this place, I said.Fo?llo?w new stories at novelhall.com Lucy nodded. Oh yeah. I bet this will have more airtime than the next ten school shootings combined. I dont much care for the media stuff, Gomorrah said. But having a small amount of renown can help with some things, or so Ive been told. So, did the gunman survive? I never interacted with him. But the way you spoke of him made him sound mostly reasonable. If in a less than civil way. Yeah, that sounds about right. Fine, Ill find out if he really did call out the hit on Burringham, then if its Dupont, maybe Ill pay him another visit. I shifted so that I was sitting straighter. That all? I think so, Gomorrah said. She ended the call before speaking to the others. Sorry about that. Lucy grinned. You know, if you insist on having alone-time with Cat so much, I might insist on the same with Frannie here. Down girl, I said. I was about to comment a little more when I heard a shuffling across the room. People were still whispering and talking to each other, but the pitch and tone changed, like a wave across the entire hall. Glancing around, I saw a lot of heads turning towards the stage, so I followed the collective gaze and found a familiar face walking up onto the stage. Burringham, looking a pinch pale, and in an entirely new suit, hair obviously still wet and freshly brushed. My augs told me he still had the nano-regenerative suite on him, tucked under his partially-open jacket. He walked up to the podium and cleared his throat. So, where was I? he asked. There were some nervous chuckles and genuine laughs from the people in the room. Im truly sorry about the interruption. I assure you weve heightened security quite substantially. It should prevent anything like that from happening again. At least, I hope so, the last lesson was on the painful side, so I hope it sticks. He grinned at everyone, as if he was talking about stubbing his toe on stage instead of being shot. Ah, I really have forgotten where I left off. I think I was thanking our guests of honour for tonight? The valiant samurai, Gomorrah, and especially Stray Cat, to whom I now owe my life, I suspect. He started clapping, and soon everyone else was clapping along too. It felt at once hollow--these people, with maybe three exceptions, didnt give a flying shit about me--at the same time, I felt an unfamiliar warmth rising to my cheeks. The clapping died down soon enough and Burringham took to talking again. Now, tonights hero isnt the only one I want to thank. All of you deserve a round of applause for not panicking. Ive been informed that you were all quite restrained and empathetic, and I appreciate that. As this city moves forward,especially so soon after a disaster like the incursion that we just survived, its important that we all try to come together and especially work together to fix our home. I sat back and half-listened to Burringham as he worked the crowd. His miraculous return was working in his favour, I suspected. You might be interested to know that your ranking in the popularity charts has changed quite substantially. Welcome to the under thirty-thousand bracket. Though you are still behind Gomorrah. I blinked. Id become more popular? For the stunt we pulled? But that begged the question; how had Gomorrah stayed ahead? *** Chapter Sixty - Emoting Chapter Sixty - Emoting Chapter Sixty - Emoting Emoji, in the form that we readily recognize them as, appeared even before the advent of the internet, though they only really became popular with the standardization of communication systems. Things like Unicode made them somewhat reliable across multiple platforms, and eventually they grew to become a standard part of the modern lexicon. As text-based communication became more popular, and eventually ubiquitous, the humble emote began to replace entire words. It even made sense. A smiley face could convey as much as an entire paragraph, at times. Today, people have entire catalogues of custom emotes, and emoji-artists are some of the most well-paid custom art makers in the modern world. A signature, person-specific emote can mean a lot to its user. :) --Professor Besters, Lecture on the New English, 2025 *** The evening ended with a much more subdued tone than I was initially expecting it to. Lucy and I had another turn on the dance floor, this time alongside a few dozen others who were willing to brave Lucys stumbling dance moves, and supper was served. It was all terribly fancy stuff that made even the fancy stuff back in the hotel look unfancy by comparison. Once the dancing was over, and a few political sorts that werent Burringham gave some quick speeches, the evening sort of just... wrapped up. A few of the attendees were drunk enough to need help finding the exit, but other than some raised voices, they didnt make much of a fuss. The crowd basically just thinned out bit by bit until I glanced at my aug overlay and realized that it was so late that it was almost tomorrow. Lucy, Gomorrah, Frannie, and I were heading for the entrance when I heard someone call out to us. Burringham ran over, a big grin on and his cheeks a healthy rosy colour. Stray Cat, Gomorrah, he said as he came closer. I just wanted a quick word, before you take off. Sure, I said. His smile, if anything, widened. I have to thank you both, especially you, Cat. Didnt you thank me on stage already? I asked. He nodded. Yes, but theres something impersonal about that kind of message. Its all pageantry and show. I meant every word I said, but I feel like the method of delivery robs some of that credibility. he shook his head. Sorry. The hour and the days events are robbing me of what little eloquence I have. Oh, dont say that, Lucy said. Youre still perfectly charming, no matter the hour. Burringham laughed. Thank you. If youre ever on the lookout for a job, by the way, please avoid politics, for my sake. I prefer it if my competition isnt better than I am at charming people. Lucy giggled and pressed herself closer to my side. Ill think about it. Maybe cut you some slack. So, I said. Are you feeling alright? Yes! Very much so. He rubbed at his side where I knew the gunshot had been. There isnt even a scratch to show for the trouble, and I genuinely feel splendid, like Ive just woken up from a long nights rest midway through a vacation and found myself ten years younger. I could get used to feeling this good. It should last a little bit. At least until the nanites die off. But try to avoid getting shot again, I dont know how much they could do for you then. I chuckled. A distraction wouldnt hurt, I admitted. Awesome! I was just about to convince Gomorrah and Frannie to go on a double date. Oh? I asked. Are they actually, you know, gay-gay? Lucy wiggled her hand in the air before her. Everyones a little gay, they both have above-average amounts of gayness. Ah, yes, I said. Above average gayness. How eloquently put. So is there like, a curve here? A ranking? I was thinking of a sliding chart? Like one of those colourwheels, but flat. Youve got hella gay on one side. She gestured between us. Then moderately gay in the middle. She gestured to our favourite nuns. And then you have non-gays at the other end. Does the fact that a flattened colour wheel looks like a rainbow mean anything? I asked. Happy coincidence. I have the impression that your system might not work for everyone, I said. She shrugged. Im sure I could fit a third dimension in there somewhere. So, double date? Did you actually tell them it was a date? I asked. Lucy snapped her fingers. Thats it. The third dimension can be usefulness. Usefulness? Yeah, theyre both very low on that score. So they dont need to know that its a double date because that would just confuse them even more. Uh-huh, I said. We reached Gomorrah and Frannie who were waiting next to the Fury. Lucy convinced us to head out and grab something light to eat, Gomorrah said. I am easily convinced by ice cream, Frannie added. She leaned back against the car, arms crossed and looking cooler than anyone wearing a nuns habit should. Its my one fault. Your one fault? Gomorrah asked. Keeps me humble." I laughed. Alright, ice cream it is, I said. I think itll make for a nice night cap for us. But then we need to go home, we have kids to look after, you know, Lucy said. Frannie turned around. You two sound so old, she complained. *** Chapter Sixty-One - Introspection Chapter Sixty-One - Introspection Chapter Sixty-One - Introspection Existential crisis? Existential crisis deez nuts! --Last words of celebrity host John Lewort before his on-air suicide, 2048 *** The next morning, after breakfast with Lucy and the kittens, and after texting Rac to make sure she was okay (apparently she had stayed the night in the museum and had collected heaps of the good trash for me) I headed out with all of my gear. Armour, launcher, a couple of guns, and of course my sword hanging by my hip. I could have just stayed at the hotel, or maybe I could have gone to check on the museum, where the contractors were supposed to have started working already. But that didnt feel quite right. Sitting back and doing nothing wasnt something I was all that keen on. I would get restless, and start worrying about things. I used to be able to distract myself with my media feeds, but since becoming a samurai, things like sensationalized news just didnt hit the same. I wasnt able to get angry at whatever the feeds told me to get angry about as easily as I once had. It had taken one glance at my feed and at the top news story of the morning to convince me to get up and go do something. That the top news story was still last nights assassination attempt might have had something to do with it. Where are we going now? I stepped out of the elevator on the main lobby floor of the hotel and started towards the door. There were more people with camera augs out that morning, following me with their strangely blank gazes as I started out across the room. This morning were going to check in on a couple of things, I said. First, that assassins-for-hire group. Theyre bound to know something. Then well maybe pay Dupont another visit. Because Ive been thinking. What have you been thinking about? I killed Doc Hack. Probably a couple of his stooges too. Are you feeling guilty about it? I shook my head. No. He was a delusional bastard. Maybe someone could have reformed him, but he was actively hurting people. Cant say Im all that sympathetic. Probably a bit fucked up, but, yeah, thats how it is. Then what is bothering you? Myalis was being very pop-therapy-ish that morning. Whats bothering me is that I was willing to kill Doc Hack for being a dangerous freak, but I wasnt willing to do the same to Dupont, whos arguably a worse menace to the city. Interesting. Your reluctance to rely on violence at the time isnt too strange. Humans generally need to be primed for action before theyre willing to resort to aggression. That means that specific environmental factors need to be fulfilled in order for a human to consider violence. Like what? I asked. For one thing, if an area is considered a peaceful one, one that the subject sees as a safe area, then they are less likely to resort to violence than if they find themselves in an unfamiliar, hostile environment. The actual psychology is a lot more complex than that. A human brain is little more than meat with delusions, its no wonder that while generalizations can be made, these will not hold to any scrutiny beyond grand statistical conjecture. 10,494 I imagine thats enough to purchase a ride? You no longer want to use taxi services? In either case, yes, it is more than enough to afford a vehicle. What sort of transportation are you looking for? Something small and fast. With, ah, room for two? I dont think it needs to be well-armed or anything. I see. In that case, I have two options I think you should consider. The first, and more expensive of the two, is an iteration of the mechanized cat robots you have used previously, this one with room in its torso for a pair of people on adjustable racks. It can fly, walk, and run at great speeds, and should be quite intimidating to most. It can even defend itself and be equipped with a few weapons, both concealed and not. That sounds super stupid, I said. The other option is a much simpler hovercycle. There are a multitude of choices to be made there, but I would steer you towards a lower-cost option. Self-driving, relatively nimble, faster than many of the vehicles on the market. You can even find some models with basic stealth capabilities at relatively low prices. A motorcycle might be nice, I said. It would at least be cooler than riding inside of a giant cat mecha. How much are we talking here? Two hundred points for the catalogue, another two hundred for a relatively inexpensive hovercycle. Yeah, alright, I can afford that. And it would get me around a bit faster, which might be important. New Purchase: Lightweight Single-User Cockpitless Hover Vehicles Points Reduced from... 10,494 to... 10,294 New Purchase: Stealthed Mark IV Monocycle Hoverbike Points Reduced from... 10,294 to... 10,094 A bike appeared before me. It was a little shorter than the average hovercycle, though that might have been because it only had a single wheel at the back. The front swept forwards, sharp and sleek and angular, with thrusting jets poking out of little openings in the frame. The entire middle top was a long seat, leaned so that the person on it would be laying down with their hands tucked into a pair of handle gauntlets. Two can sit on this? I asked. Not comfortably, but someone Gomorrah''s or Lucys size should be able to huddle in before the pilot. Oh, that does sound nice, I said. I swung a leg over the bike, shifted my rear around until I was comfortable, then placed my feet in the stirrups while the bike kept itself upright. Leaning forwards, I grinned as a transparent panel unfolded from the front of the bike and the handles adjusted to be at just the right distance for me. Alright, lets go for a quick flight. *** Chapter Sixty-Two - Attempting Common Sense Chapter Sixty-Two - Attempting Common Sense Chapter Sixty-Two - Attempting Common Sense The average hover vehicle isnt that much more expensive than what you would have paid for a new car in 2025, accounting for inflation. The difficulty lies in all the fees, taxes, and hidden costs that come after the vehicle has been locked into a payment plan. The driver needs a license, needs to enter the gacha with the Ministry of Transportation for permission to use the airroads, and needs to pay for the three different insurances necessary to use a vehicle. That doesnt include refueling cost, either for fossil-fuel powered vehicles, or the KW/H rate for electric vehicles. Nor does it take into account the cost of things such as parking spaces and obligatory maintenance, or the cost of the subscription services that allow the driver to use their mirrors or anti-collisions assistance. --The True Costs: An Analysis of the Roads of Today, 2041 *** My grip on the handles tightened and I grit my teeth as I narrowly avoided braining myself on the overhang over the hotels entrance hangar. I shot out over the city and through a lane of busy traffic. Automatic proximity horns blared in warning as I cut in between two vans, then turned so that I just barely managed to slip in between two skyscrapers. I threw my weight to the side and slowed down to a hovering stop over the city. Oh, shit, I breathed. You might want to consider letting the hovercycles autopilot take care of any future flying. Yeah? I asked as my heart started to calm down. I glanced down and felt a bit of vertigo tugging at my stomach as I saw the ground far, far below. I was over a few skyscrapers, the lights pouring out of their layered windows acted like an arrow to the street below, only broken up by sky bridges that lead from one building to another. A lane of traffic some fifty metres down created a blurry mess of cars in every shade of monochrome in the foreground. I swallowed past the wriggling in my chest and took a few more breaths while focusing on the horizon, instead of the drop. It helped a bit. I didnt think I had a fear of heights, you know, I said. Perhaps the different circumstances are whats causing your vertigo? Yeah, I guess, I said. Id never seen the city from this high up without being in a hovercar, or atop a nice, stable building. This was different. I was basically straddling a piece of high-tech machinery that was between me and a very long fall. I think I wanna learn how to fly this thing, a little. Certainly. Ill turn on the flight-assist mode. It will correct any major mistakes you make and give you some hints. It isnt as capable as actual learning software, but it should assist. A few images appeared over my vision, especially as I looked down. A superimposed image of the handles being twisted back and forth to tell me how to give the hovercycle fuel, and instructions on how to use the pedals to aim the cycle up and down. Neat, I said. Well go slow, I think. Ah, can you point me towards our destination? Do you intend to arrive there the standard way, or did you intend to arrive in a more violent fashion? Lets go in through the front door, I said. Understood. Mapping your trajectory now. I nodded. Made sense. So I bet their entire gimmick is that they pretend to be all discrete and the like? Essentially. We will need to see if they actually do as their advertising suggests. The elevator stopped, and I walked out right into what was obviously a killbox. It wasnt as fancy as the killbox back at the gala. The explosives on the walls werent hidden here, and the large turrets at the far end of the passage pointed all the way down the marble floor and right into the elevator. Uh, I said. Perhaps a stealthy entrance would have been preferable after all. I didnt get shot full of holes, so I stepped up and out of the elevator, the old lady behind me never even noticing that she was downrange of a lot of firepower. The door closed with a whisper. I started across the corridor while eyeing the guns and cameras, then finally the desk behind that. There was a generic android behind the counter, plastic smile locked in place even as its eyes tracked my progress across the room. Smooth jazz played in the background, only interrupted by the slight whine of the servos in the guns moving to follow me. Greetings, Samurai Stray Cat, and welcome to the Hitman Cooperative. How may we assist you? Hey, I said. Im looking for, uh, information on a hit that was taken out? You understand that we keep all information entirely confidential here? Its part of the Hitman Code of Honour! I raised an eyebrow. You have a code of honour? Of course. Do you wish for an ePamphlet of the code? No thanks, I said while waving the offer off. Look, I really do need to find out who took out this one, specific hit. The gunman failed already, and I dont feel like causing trouble here. I understand your frustration, the android said with canned sincerity. Do you wish to speak with a manager? I felt dirty. I... guess? One moment please. I will fetch the nearest Hitman Cooperative manager now. In the meantime, please take a seat. How do you like your coffee? Or perhaps you would prefer tea, or an energizing soda drink? All free--asterix--as part of the Hitman Cooperatives Operation: Killing the Bad Press. I think Ill just wait, I said. *** Chapter Sixty-Three - A Very Nice and Civil Discussion Chapter Sixty-Three - A Very Nice and Civil Discussion Chapter Sixty-Three - A Very Nice and Civil Discussion The art of writing died in 2023, and its a machine that killed it. --GPT-9, 2023 *** It took ten long minutes for a manager to finally show up. She was a middle-aged woman, with a swept-back haircut and a suit right off the rack from Corps-R-Us. She walked over and bowed her head, fake smile locked firmly in place. Hello, Miss Stray Cat. Im August, one of the on-site managers of the Hitman Cooperative. If I understood correctly, youre looking for some information? Yeah, I said. One of your employees shot someone, and I shot them in turn. No one died, because... well, mostly luck, I think. But Im not too keen on relying on luck in the long-term. Im very sorry, August said with all the genuineness of a pair of brand-name sneakers bought from a guy in a trench coat. I have reviewed the case in particular, and I assure you that the gunman was not an employee of the Hitman Cooperative. He wasnt? I asked. He certainly got paid by you. It is possible that he was a contractor. Possible, or he was? I asked. Such information is-- she began. I raised a hand, stalling her. Look, August, I dont give a singular fuck about what you are or arent allowed to disclose, alright? This is twenty-fifty-seven, theres no such thing as private information. That means that what I want to know is something that you know. We have a reputation to uphold, she said. I imagine that our contractors would be very upset to learn that we leaked information about a job to the first person who asks. You understand, I hope? Samurai also rely heavily on their reputation to get things done in a timely manner. I crossed my arms. She was being an obstruction, which wasnt ideal, not when I needed what she knew. Then again... how much effort was I willing to put into finding out? Alright, I said. I nodded and started walking towards the door. Pardon? August asked. Her high-heels clicked after me. Miss Stray Cat? Yeah? I asked over my shoulder. Youre leaving? she asked. What gave it away? The fact that Im moving towards the exit? I asked. Her jaw worked, and I saw her eyes twitch before I reached the elevators. I gave the hovercycle a bit of gas and eased my way out of the building, then upwards. Once I reached the skyline I turned over and landed on a roof-top landing space next to some fancy rich-types car. Do you think Burringham planned on me saving him? I asked. It is possible. Though it doesnt fit with the psychological profile that Longbow sent you regarding Jeff Burringham. He has used underhanded methods and trickery in the past, but never to aggrandize himself, and never while putting himself or others at risk. Usually its as a tool to allow an opponent to trap themselves. Yeah, this doesnt fit, I said. Where are you heading to now? I glanced down, then around me, at the wider city. Well, I guess it wouldnt hurt to go pay Burringham a visit. Can you follow the money trail any deeper? One moment. Burringham is currently at a meet and greet in T-Man Square. As for the money trail, it isnt as useful as you might hope. Most of the credits deposited in the non-profits accounts were placed there from donations coming from various other organizations or corporate entities. Jeff Burringham is the largest contributor. The money there is controlled and spent by a number of people. The purchase leading to the hiring of a hitman was disguised as additional security expenses. Great, so the person were looking for has a sick sense of irony. I noted the opaque line guiding me across the city, then gunned it to follow after it. We dont have an exact idea of who could have made the payment? Not an exact idea, no. A list of suspects can be provided. Jeff Burringham himself isnt directly able to spend the money in the foundation, but it is possible that he, or another, tricked someone else into making the purchase. Who signed off on it? I asked. His secretary. She also signed off on fourteen other purchases within the same hour. So someone could have slipped the order, or the payment for the order, in with the rest. We were dealing with someone who was actually clever, which was always a pain in the ass. I liked it when my enemies were brain-dead idiots. Think Burringham might be able to help us narrow it down? I asked. Its possible. There are other options for discovering the culprit, but they would take either time, or a spending of other resources. Which begs the question; how much do you want to invest into all of this? I frowned as I drove over a skybridge then blurred past a hovering police platform, the two cops within not even glancing up from the doughnuts. I dont know. Look, lets bother Burringham now, then well see what we see. If we need to spend too much on this, then Ill poke Longbow about it, maybe he can figure it out. I can probably do other, more productive things with my afternoon. Wonderful. You should also consider spending more time at home with your family. You need a little more rest still. I slept for like, ten hours, I said. You spent that many hours on a bed. The things you did there did include sleep, but not for the entire duration. I pouted. *** Chapter Sixty-Four - Trying out that Stealth Stuff Chapter Sixty-Four - Trying out that Stealth Stuff Chapter Sixty-Four - Trying out that Stealth Stuff You cant just lay down and expect someone higher up the chain to notice. You need to make noise. To make yourself heard. To participate in the political machine. --M. Breaker, political activist during a street interview before the 2027 Minimumwage Protest Bombings *** Burringhams meet and greet thing was held in a large city square set in the middle of one of those fatter, more squat skyscrapers that had bridges leading to all the other buildings around it. The square was partially open above, with a ring of glass panels over the centre of the square. An entire squads worth of heavy-looking military trucks were hovering around the square, roof-mounted guns tracking any vehicle that came even a little too close. It looked like Burringham wasnt cheaping out on his security. Couldnt blame him there. I moved down below the building with the square, then found a parking garage a few floors over where I left my hovercycle before taking off. I had to navigate my way up a few floors, then across a couple of bridges. I wasnt the only one heading that way. The majority of the foot traffic I encountered were heading the same way. When I arrived at the square proper, I had to stop and take it in. There were small stores lining the edges, with ads plastered all over them, but for the most part the square acted like something of an open space. There were real trees in large planters with benches around them, and the ground was covered in large flagstones. It felt almost like we were outside instead of within the topmost floor of a stubby building, larger skyscrapers towering out above. Some fuckery with holographics painted the sky on the windows above as blue and only a little cloudy, instead of the constant grey and drizzly they were in reality. The square might have been meant as a peaceful place for upper-middles to walk around in and meet up. I could imagine some older folk doing tai-chi or something here, but right then and there the place was packed. The centre of the square had a spot where a campaign bus was parked, and behind that was a light hover tank, barrel pointing high to remind people not to fuck around. Thats where Burringham was, in a little island of peace, surrounded by guards and hovering fence-posts. A few armed dog-robots were sitting nearby too. A line of people stretched out from where Burringham was all the way back to the entrance, snaking around little guiding signs all the way. Just normal-looking folk who passed through some security checkbox then filed into the line. At the end they shook Burringhams hand, maybe spoke a word or two to him, then they were encouraged to move on by one of Burringhams guards. He smiled the entire time. Great, I muttered under my breath. If I got into line now, it might only take an hour for me to reach Burringham. The security around him looked pretty tight too. They might give me a pass, and if I poked at Burringham and asked him for help, hed certainly let me get closer, but that would mean that I had to ask him for help, for permission basically, just to get close to him.Fo?llo?w new stories at novelhall.com That left a bit of a sour taste in my mouth. I think Ill stay like this, I said. I didnt need to give him even more good press. Look, I had some time on my hands, so I poked at the Hitman Cooperative. One thing led to another, and we know who paid to have you shot. Or at least who greenlit the payment, they might have been tricked, or just approved of a payment set up by someone else. Who are your suspects? he asked. I can have my own security look over them, if you want. It would narrow it down, so far we have nothing. I nodded. Myalis, you got that list? Sending now! Burringham blinked as he received the list. His brows drew together, then he started to turn around, towards his secretary. He stopped mid-turn. Really? he asked. Surprised? I asked. Obviously, he snapped. I didnt expect to have paid for my own assassination. Damnit, I invested a few million into that side company, of my own money. It wasnt meant to be used to shoot me. Well, it worked, as far as I can tell. I gestured to the crowd, then realized he couldnt see it. Youre looking pretty popular this afternoon. Im on the news. We both are. Itll pass in a day, maybe two, but I wanted to capitalize on it while I could. Prove Im in good health for the constituents. Right, I said. Look, I dont know how much more time I can spend on this investigation thing. No, no, youve done a lot already. I have some good security, and you just gave them a great lead. Ill look into it some more. By the way, youll want to see this. he gestured, and I received a text from his Aug-line. It had a compressed folder that I opened and eyed up. What is it? I asked. A few of the files there had familiar names. I saw my own, and Lucys name too. Thats from child protective services. Someones pressuring them to do something about your... ah, orphanage-like situation. I closed my fist. Oh yeah? I asked. I wouldnt worry overly much, its something we can get rid of without too much trouble. Though, to be perfectly honest, you might want to cut out some of their arguments at the knees, if you can. Yeah, yeah, Ill see about it, I said. On that note, Im off. Good luck, Burringham. Dont get shot again. Ah, thank you, Stray Cat, he said. By the time I found a spot to sneak out of the cordon from, a lot more guards were moving around, and some were tossing flour on the floor, of all things. Cute. *** Chapter Sixty-Five - Reckless Chapter Sixty-Five - Reckless Chapter Sixty-Five - Reckless Once a commoditys price has reached the lowest it can possibly go without becoming unprofitable to sell, the focus of the market becomes less the price of the commodity, but the methods around the sale of the commodity. That means shipping cost and speed, packaging, and things like customer support and additional sale incentives. --Memo to Amazon subsidiary retailers, 2028 *** I sat on my hoverbike, helmet in hand, and just... took a few minutes to breathe. I was hovering a couple of kilometres above the city, sitting in the sky in a way that would have been a huge waste of kerosene if my bike was even a little more normal than it was. Not too sure what the next step is, I admitted with a yawn. Something about the thinness of the air was making me tired. Or maybe it was just shortness of breath, from all the smog in the air this high up. Your itinerary is rather empty at the moment. Perhaps you might consider returning to the floor you purchased? The renovations should be underway as we speak. I could check on Rac too, I said. Poor girl; probably thought Id run off. Though I bet she was still worshipping that machine. Yeah, not a bad way to waste an afternoon. Lets go pick up Lucy first though. I gave you ninety-nine percent odds that youd want to do that. You know, when people call out the odds they gave something, its not usually so high, I said as I tugged on my helmet. Most people arent as certain of things as I am. Fair enough, I said. I leaned down, rooted around with my augs to find the controls that took the bike off of its hovering mode, then I glanced around until I found the glowing path leading all the way back to the hotel. I gunned it, grinning as I tried to push the hoverbike to its limits and see just how fast the thing could really move. As it turned out, that was pretty damned fast. Oh shit, shit! I said as I steered up and rolled over a line of traffic that I probably would have had more time to react to had I not been moving so fast. Reckless as ever. Do you want to know the odds I give you of crashing? No, I dont think I do, I said. I took her advice and slowed down as I slid into the next curve. The hotel wasnt all that far, so after a couple of minutes of cruising along at a reasonable and entirely safe speed, we swung around and into the parking level I had gotten used to using when entering the hotel. I slid my bike close to the entrance, then swung off of it while flagging down the nearest valet. Can you park this thing somewhere close? I asked. Certainly, maam, they said. From the smug look they shot back to the other valets, theyd just hit the equivalent of the bragging-rights jackpot.Ne/w novel chapters are published at novelhall.com I waved them off before heading into the lobby. Almost as soon as I stepped inside, one of the workers behind the counters at the far end of the room went around and jogged over to me. Miss Stray Cat, She said. She was a cute twenty-something, in a stylish burgundy uniform that hugged her in nice ways. Forgive me, maam, we received an urgent-sent package for you, but it flagged our security. Oh? I asked. I blinked, but for a long, long time, I was blind. No pain. No pain, but disorientation. I was on my back? Catherine? Its hardly a good time to be laying on your back. Your vitals read as mostly positive, and your armours integrity, while damaged, isnt compromised. Can you get to your feet, check yourself for injuries, and take stock? I coughed, and the pressure around my lungs faded. It was my armour, tightening around me like a sort of vice. I took some strange pleasure in breathing easier, and more when my hearing returned with a pop. An alarm was blaring, water was pouring down from above, and as the glass on my helmet faded, I could make out a room filled with a thick smoke that was quickly being shredded by an active fire-suppression system. I half turned, then pushed myself up to my feet. The table where the package had been sitting was a wreck, the entire thing blown apart, and the wall behind it was smeared in black soot. A concussion explosive. Look at the walls, those little pinpricks of scarring. There were little streaks all over, and a few little bits of metal stuck to the wall. Whats that? I asked. Shrapnel. The bomb was designed to kill an unarmoured person. But I was armoured. I blinked. Eleanor? I asked. I found her behind me, pressed up against the wall, blood pooling around her. Her mouth was opened, one eye wide, the other a gorey mess. Oh, fuck, I said as I dropped to a knee next to her. Myalis! Catherine, I cant detect a heartbeat. One moment, she has active augs... but theyre not reading anything from her mind but faults. The fuck does that mean? I asked. I tugged her to the side, laying her flat on the ground. It means shes dead. Im sorry, Catherine. Just like that. Fuck. I wasnt attached to her. She was a greeter or something, just another cog in the hotels machine, but fuck, she was nice and polite. Shed been helpful, and now she was dead. Fuck! I said, this time with more anger, more confusion in it. The door burst open and a staff member took one step into the room, stared around with an open mouth, then ran off. Myalis, who the fuck sent that box? I screamed. That thing was going to be sent to my rooms upstairs. It was going to be in the penthouse with the kittens, with Lucy. Hell, with me while I wasnt wearing any armour. Some fuck had just tried to kill me and my family. My hands shook. *** Chapter Sixty-Six - Return to Form Chapter Sixty-Six - Return to Form Chapter Sixty-Six - Return to Form The government ignoring the mental health issues of the average citizen is fine. Except for real nutjobs, its hard to really tell if a persons depressed or broken inside or whatever. Basically, as long as its an invisible problem, its not a problem that you can really run a platform on. But the mental health of samurai? A samurai that loses it? That sees one too many people get gibbed by aliens? Well now, thats entirely too fucking scary to think about. --CandidCast podcast interview with political psychologist Hulo Wells, 2038 *** A pair of guards stopped me just outside of the room, and for some reason, when they gently led me into another part of the floor where there was a sofa to sit on and a few chairs for the guards to occupy, I didnt protest or fight back. Miss Stray Cat? I leaned forwards and clasped my hands together. It stopped them from trembling a little. Catherine. Youre entering a state of shock, mild though it may be. Give yourself some time to process the adrenaline in your system. While that is happening, lets go over the events that just transpired. Not the time, Myalis, I muttered. It is precisely the time. Focus on the cause. A human brain might only have a few simple and animalistic responses to threats, but that doesnt mean that it is entirely useless at deconstructing a threat once it is past. Fine, I said. Miss Stray Cat? the guard asked. I raised my hand in a one-moment gesture, and the guard backed off for the moment. First, you entered the room because you received a package, one addressed directly to you, but which set off an alarm. I nodded. Second, you inspected the package. It asked for your identification. On giving it, the trap unravelled and an explosive device, likely a concussion-based device with a shell meant to create fragmentation. This caused you very mild harm in the form of a light concussive blow. It also killed the young woman assisting you at the time. I closed my hands so hard my fingers hurt. Yeah. Good. You seem to understand the situation. Your current state is caused by a few factors. First, the surprise of an unexpected attack. Second, the light injury you received. Third, the death of the young woman assisting you. The first and third causes are the ones I will address now. This location, the hotel, is one that you thought was safe. You lowered your guard. An understandable reaction, though one that has backfired in this case. This can be alleviated in the future by heightening your caution. The death of the young woman is unfortunate, and to some degree you are to blame. I swallowed. But the majority of that blame lays not on you, but on the person who attempted to assassinate you. Aim your anger there first. Okay, I said. It wasnt very loud. I didnt sound like myself. Youre a moron, Daniel, I said. He grinned, then looked over his shoulder. Lucy, its your mentally stunted wife. The door opened wider a moment later, and Daniel almost tripped without it to hold him up. Go watch over the kittens, Lucy said before she squeezed past him, then collided with my chest. Cat. Lucy, I said. I squeezed her close. Youre... squishing me, she complained. I hesitated, then broke the hug and took a step back. Getting out of the armour took several long seconds, but I was rewarded with another hug the moment I was out of it, this one much warmer and closer. Myalis filled me in, Lucy muttered into my neck. Yeah? Yeah, she repeated. I was just worried about you guys, I said. She poked me in the ribs. And we were worried about you. But were okay, and youre okay. Right? Youre not hurt? I shook my head. Im fine, I said. Armour took the blast no problem. It... kinda scared the crap out of me, but Im fine otherwise. Lucy nodded. Good, good. She leaned back enough to meet my eyes, and for a long moment she just stared at me, inspecting me closely. Do you want to talk about it? she asked. Not really, I admitted. I was still wired up, still a little nervous. Twitchy, maybe. Lucy grabbed me by the wrist, then tugged me along after her and towards the living room. Come on, we should sit, she said. I cant stay for long, I said. You can stay for long enough that I can reassure myself that youre okay, Lucy said. There was no give there. If I just off and left Id regret having four ears when Lucy whined all four of them off later. Fine, I said. I sat on the bigger couch, then sighed, sat up, and tossed some magazine out from where Id sat. Lucy promptly sat herself down on me. There, she said. No escape anymore. I could lift you off me, I said. And risk bruising my delicate skin with your brutish hands? Lucy asked, faux-demurely. I rolled my eyes, but the banter helped. I could feel some of the tension bleeding off of my back. Thanks Lucy. Lucy laughed and tipped sideways until I had no choice but to hug her. I love you too, she said. *** Chapter Sixty-Seven - Things get Better Chapter Sixty-Seven - Things get Better Chapter Sixty-Seven - Things get Better One of the best fields for the able-bodied, regardless of nationality or gender, is security. The training is usually covered by the corporation, and the work pays quite handsomely. Only a fool would underpay the people in charge of keeping them alive and safe. Men are usually preferred, but women and some younger men prefer female-presenting guards. Its very much an equal-opportunity job. Also, sometimes you get to beat up reporters and hobos. --The Coachs Playbook, a guide to becoming corporate security, 2032 *** I stormed through the lobby, a woman on a mission. It was hard not to notice the additional security theyd put up. More guards by the doors, more personnel behind the counters so that clients coming in were treated faster. They even brought out a few of those dog-drones with the spinal-mounted guns. Ugly, but it made the point. Maam? one of the hotel employees asked as he jogged to catch up. Yeah? I asked without slowing down. Weve, ah, heightened security. Were working with some private investigators to track the origin of the package. The hotel apologizes for what happened. That box shouldnt have gotten past security.Updated chapters at novelhall.com You didnt fuck up, I said. I did. And now Im going to go pay the bitch responsible a visit. The employees head bobbed up and down. Thank you. Eleanor didnt deserve that. She didnt, I agreed. We stepped out into the parking tunnel, and I saw a pair of valets scurrying to push my hovercycle closer. Ill be back in a few hours. Do me a favour and keep the security on alert until then? Certainly, maam, he said. I nodded and moved over to my bike, a leg swinging up and over before I fixed my jacket behind me. I leaned forwards, turned the bike on with a twitch of my augs, then gave it gas. Setting destination now. Just follow the lines. Ill keep an eye on the hotel while youre out. Their added security is simple, but it should assist to some degree. Going to be expensive for them, I said as I flew up and merged into a high-speed traffic lane filled with nicer corpo rides. Possibly. But the hotels PR staff is already disseminating information about the attack. Theyre spreading news about it? I asked. Oh yes. A Vanguard was unsuccessfully attacked in their hotel. An employee died, and now their security measures are increasing to such a degree that the entire establishment will be much harder to enter. Theyre playing up their part of the narrative. I think the idea is to create the impression that the hotel is a place where incredibly dramatic things happen and one where the management are quick to react to such threats. I sniffed. It sounded stupid to me. But then... I could imagine Lucy gleefully telling me about how such-and-such a place had someone try to assassinate a samurai. It would get their name out there a lot more than usual and in channels they couldnt normally advertise in. Sickeningly clever. I didnt have the energy in me to really give a shit. The traffic ahead of me slowed down enough to start grating on my nerves, so I dipped under the cars ahead and shot past them in complete disregard to a whole heap of laws. It was a good thing I didnt have a license, or it would have been revoked on account of my driving already. Wheres this leading to? I asked. No thanks, I said. Im here for something else. Whats wrong? Buirringham asked. Should I... his guest said. Burringham shook his head. Itll be fine, Im sure. Stray Cats a friend, he said with one of his winning smiles. Just had a few things I needed you to know, I said. First, I figured out who sent that assassin after you. You did? Burringham asked. Great. Who is it? Im sure we can make an example of them. Problem is, I continued. They just tried to kill me too. Sent a bomb to my hotel. They actually did kill someone. Nice girl by the name of Eleanor. Hotel staff. Are you okay? he asked. I could have sworn his question was genuine. I waved the comment off. Im fine. Got to wonder though, why in the fuck is your secretary trying to blow me up? Id been eyeing the secretary from the corner of my vision the entire time. She was tense, but not more than one might expect from having a samurai just show up. The accusation had her squirming though. Mister Burringham, I can assure you, she began. Shut up, I said over her. Actually, no, dont shut up. Instead, why dont you tell me what in the fuck you were thinking? I moved over to her while the other assistant scurried out of the path in a hurry. Linda? Burringham asked. Youre lying, the secretary said. It shouldnt be that hard to prove that youre not the one, I said. But Ive got this itchy feeling that tells me that it really is you. Which makes me want to know, really, why? Whatd you get out of it? She swallowed, then glared at me. Her silence stretched for a long moment. She has just sent a message to the security guards around you. I intercepted it. She asked them to apprehend you. Did you really just ask the guard here to arrest me? I asked. You... you pose a threat to Mister Burringham and his campaign. Linda, what are you on about? Burringham asked. I glanced at the guard in charge. He shook his head. Were paid well, but not well enough to interfere with whatever this is, he said. I nodded. Hey, Burringham, could your CEO buddy over there do us a favour and arrest her? Just in case your own security is compromised. I got the feeling theyre clean, but just in case. I... Burringham turned to his guest who nodded. Certainly? I nodded in turn. Cool, cool. Oh, and Linda? This is for Eleanor. I got to say, that meaty feeling of my fist meeting Lindas cheek was incredibly cathartic. *** Chapter Sixty-Eight - Things Get Worse Chapter Sixty-Eight - Things Get Worse Chapter Sixty-Eight - Things Get Worse Weve had a couple of hard years, weve survived them. But things are about to get worse. --Deus Ex, open letter to the Family, 2056 *** Burringham walked into the kitchen carrying two cans of soda. He extended one to me. I looked at it for a moment, then took it to set it onto the counter next to me. The staff had cleared out, and when Burringham pulled a few strings, they let his guards use the fridge. A big metal box with only one exit that was uncomfortably cold. A great place to keep someone like Linda while they asked her a few pointed questions and some quickly-hired infosec-types ran through everything her augs had picked up. We keep meeting in kitchens, Burringham said. And its never a pleasant sort of meeting. Twice isnt that often, I said. You say that, but it feels pretty frequent to me, he said with a smile. I stared at him, and even if he couldnt see my face... his smile dropped. Sorry, he said. Its... a habit to try and comfort the people Im talking to. Get on their side, make them feel... like people, I guess. It ought to be common courtesy, but its a skill I literally had to learn. Hmm, was all I could say to that. Burringham popped the tab on his can, then took a long swallow. Not supposed to be drinking this shit, he muttered before taking another. You were right. About Linda. Myalis did most of the work, I said. He shrugged. Then it was right. Everything was covered up, but... Lindas not some expert hacker. She knows enough to get by, more than most even, but now that the people with the right skills are actively looking. Its all there. She hired some thug to shoot me. You could have died. She paid extra for him not to, you know. He made an explodey gesture with his free hand. He was meant to shoot me with some specialised gun. Fancy, sure, but not as lethal as some other guns. He was paid a lot more to aim low. Guts, legs, my balls. That would have been interesting, I said.Ne/w novel chapters are published at novelhall.com chuckled. The memes would have been... oh, awful. Burringham, a politician with no balls. They make themselves. Was it all for the press? I asked. All for publicity, he agreed. Linda... fuck me. I knew shed go far, but not... not that. I shook my head. You knew shed be willing to hire an assassin? I asked. For someone else, maybe. Not for me. Not as part of some fucked up publicity stunt. I swear, Ive heard about this kind of thing in movies and soap media, not in active politics. She tried to kill me, I said. The bartender set an identical glass in front of me, nodded, then walked off. I hesitated. I didnt want to take my helmet off. It was safe, it was-- No ones going to blow your head off, Deus Ex said. And if they do, Ill avenge you, or whatever. Wouldnt you be dead too? I asked. She shook her head. This isnt my main body. I turned towards her. She looked plenty real to me. A pipsqueak in form-fitting armour that looked real high-tech, glowy bits and all. Whats that mean? I asked. It means that Im at home right now, and that this bodys remote controlled. You dont think Id go out in the field wearing this little armour, right? Shit, I said. How many samurai are like that? A few, Deus Ex said. Most are who they seem. Its not a big deal. Really, it depends on the catalogues theyve invested in. A lot of them have some way of keeping you alive. Those that dont invest in something like that tend to... not stay alive, I guess. Or they become really good at ensuring that all the threats around them are taken care of before they might get hurt. Scary, I said. I took off the helmet and breathed in for a moment as I set it next to the drink. I took a sip, then recoiled while a shiver ran down my spine. Oh, shit, that is sweet, I said. I did tell you. I shook my head to ward off the sensation. Did you call me over just to prove that you like sweet things that much? Or was there, like, business? Its business, Deus Ex said. Thats all everything is, really. Even the fun parts. Fine. Whats this business then? You going to help with my sewer problem? Deus Ex looked up to me, blank and confused for a moment before understanding flashed in her eyes. Oh, that. No, Im here for something more important. And whats that? Were going to get another incursion soon. A lot of them, actually. And theyre going to be the worse sort. Were going to need every samurai we can get working as hard as they can to weather this one. Another incursion? We had one days ago. Deus Ex licked her lips. Things are... complicated. Ill invite you and Gomorrah over to my place. We can go over things there, where its more private. Suffice to say, theres going to be another. Arent they supposed to be once every three months? I asked. No, thats what people who dont understand statistics say. On average, in a year, yes, there will be about one every three months. But, if you look at the actual dates, they tend to be grouped up. Three months is the average time between them, but only because there might be a long time between two sets of incursions. Right, I said. I could do that much figuring out in my head. So, another fun romp, killing aliens and getting points and all that? Something like that, Deus Ex said. Its going to be a serious one. Not a deep incursion, but a wide one. I dont know the difference, I admitted. Ill show you, but not here. Clear your schedule for tomorrow afternoon. She grinned, and whatever seriousness she cultivated disappeared with that cocky smile. Youve never been to space, right? *** Stray Cat Strut ?— Book Four — A Young Ladies Guide to Aggravated Civil Service Stray Cat Strut ?¡ª Book Four ¡ª A Young Ladies Guide to Aggravated Civil Service (Cover Art Pending... because art takes time!)Rread latest chapters at novelhall.com Defending her home, her friends, and her interests will require that Cat put in a lot of work. After all, global plant-alien invasions dont stop themselves. Meet new samurai, encounter fun and cuddly new aliens, and dont forget to clock in your hours! Its everyones civic duty to do their part in exterminating the xeno threat and secure a bright and happy future for humanitys richest! Chapter One - Feed the Machine Chapter One - Feed the Machine Chapter One - Feed the Machine The bigger they are, the more theyll make fall. Or something like that. Look, I dont exactly read a lot of books, alright? --Three Swipes, Comment about the unveiling of the Domus, 2052 *** Im heading home, Gomorrah said. I glanced over to her. Just like that? She shrugged. Well see each other in a few hours. The security around the church is tight, but its not tight enough to stop a full-on invasion. I have a few hundred points to spare. That actually sounds like a decent idea, I said. I glanced at the museum. The interior had been torn apart already, with workers crawling all around the inside moving junk into containers and others bringing in new materials. If I recalled correctly, the renovations would take a week or two. I could probably speed that up, considerably. The problem was that I could only do so for the topmost floor. I stared around. The museum was the shortest building in sight. Only 13 floors tall. Most of the buildings around were twice that height, some more distant buildings were considerably taller than that. Cat? I spun around to face Gomorrah. Sorry, head in the clouds, I said. I might do something similar here. Youll want to reinforce the floors below too, Gomorrah said. Keep that in mind. Right, I said. She nodded, then awkwardly tapped me on the shoulder. Well, Ill be seeing you in a little while. Try not to be late. I chuckled. Yeah, dont worry. See you at the meeting. She nodded back, and took off towards the edge of the landing pad. The Fury showed up almost the moment she reached the edge, the door sliding open so that she could slip into the drivers seat without having to miss a step. The car tipped away from the building, then shot off through the city. Myalis, I said. Yes? Reinforced titanium walls, designed for warships, a type of lightweight concrete made to endure extreme wear and tear, and transparent panels made of realigned crystal matrices. The entire thing would be quite difficult to damage. I started walking towards the head contractor. Send the blueprint to Lucy, get her input on things. Shes got more of a head for that, and more time too. Tell her its important. I flagged the older guy down and he jogged over, an eager smile on. At the same time, I sent a text to Raccoon, telling her to meet me in a few minutes. The contractors head bobbed up and down as I explained things to him. He seemed a little worried, but eager to do whatever I told him to do, which was good enough for me. Nearly the moment I was done with the guy, I got two texts. One from Raccoon, telling me shed be up in a minute. The other was from Lucy. She wanted to know if things were alright. I sent her a quick things are okay, talk later while I stepped into the museum. I paused and looked down at myself. My armour had changed to be an offensively bright yellow. Uh, I said. Youre supposed to be wearing a high-visibility vest within the construction site. A helmet as well, but yours is of greater quality than OSHA-standard requires. So you made my armour turn yellow? I asked. It fits the requirements. Its bulletproof, I said. Which also complies with security standards. Why do you even care about those? I asked. I dont. I just wanted to paint a yellow cat on your back. I sighed. Some things didnt change. Youre such a pain in the ass, I said. I couldnt help the bit of humour that snuck into my voice though. Myalis was probably trying to destress me a little. The interior of the museum was a mess of torn-down walls, stacks of materials and piles of trash that hadnt been picked up yet. The far end of the space wasnt so bad though. I found some security cordon-tape blocking access to the room where Lucy and I had placed the matter reconfiguration machine. It still sat pretty in the end of the armoury, big and shiny and... next to a row of stacked blocks? I walked over to the blocks and knelt next to them. They were about ten centimetres long and two thick and wide, little rectangular blocks of different colours with letters engraved on their sides: Fe, Co, Cr. There were some little numbers too, but I glossed over those. Some of the blocks were clearly canisters too. Were those gasses? It seems that Racoon has been busy. What are these? I asked. The stacks were actually pretty large. Elements. Purified and reconstituted into usable blocks for material printing. Theyre one of the possible end results that the reconfiguration machine can produce. An easy way to store metals, essentially. I stood up and took in all the stacks of blocks. Some were by far more common than others. How much time had Rac spent feeding the machine? Well, thats something. *** Chapter Two - The Scrounger Chapter Two - The Scrounger Chapter Two - The Scrounger People used to mock preppers a lot. To be fair, the entire culture around the movement--if you can even call it a movement--was pretty strange. Paranoia that was being acted upon, lots of conspiracy theories and strange people with too much time on their hands. Then the aliens actually showed up, and the entire thing changed. Now its less a fringe group, and more just... something everyone with a lick of common sense does. --Interview with Liz Maybirb, Director of the Ready Community group, 2029 *** Hey boss! I jumped at the sound and turned to find a familiar face bouncing over to me. Raccoon looked healthy. Dirty, but healthy. She had overalls on, stained and covered in cuts and wrinkles. She was lugging around a backpack that looked like it would have been big on an adult man; it was huge on her, and entirely filled with a clanging assortment of metal trash. Hey Rac, I said. I placed the metal ingot I had back onto the pile and reached down to rub the kids head. She ducked under my hand and shot me a look that was soon replaced by a nearly feral grin. You like my work so far? she asked. I glanced back at the stacks of metal. So far youve been doing great, I said. Is this all youve been doing? Pretty much, yeah. Started with the trash in this building, and Ive been expanding out. The best thing about trash is that its a renewable resource. In a couple of days I can return to where I started, and therell be a whole new heap of it to dive through, you know? Sounds... handy? I tried. Dumpster diving didnt sound like what Id call a fun past-time. Or a safe one, for that matter. Then again, lately my newest hobby was making things trying to eat me explode, so I was going to keep my stone collection firmly inside my glass house. I came over to see how you were doing, and to, ah, give you some news, I guess. What sort? Rac asked. She slid past me and to the large machine dominating the end of the room. With practised ease she opened the hopper at the back of it, slid her back pack off, then started filling the empty receptacle up with scrap. The machine hummed, and a large progress bar appeared on its main screen, with smaller bars beneath labelled with the names of metals. Well, first, were going to tear apart most of the top floor of this building. Im going to buy a new one outright. Itll be teleported in place. Should be pretty neat. Whoa, Rac said. That does sound kind of awesome. Like just... zap-bang and theres a new building? Part of a building, I said. Just the topmost floors. I asked the building crew to move the matter reconfiguration machine over to the room where Longbows gun is stored. I... need to send him a text about that, actually. Anyway, it should be safe. Am I gonna be out of work then? Rac asked. For a few hours, maybe, I said. You have a place to sleep? Usually just sleep there, Rac said. She gestured to a corner of the room. I hadnt really noticed the blankets in the corner. Id kind of just assumed they were some random junk left behind. I can find a place, dont worry. Right, I said. Youre welcome to stay here once everythings in place. Ah, thats the other thing. Were going to start producing prosthetics. Like, cheap but functional ones. I still need to talk to someone about that, but well probably start production tomorrow. Itll likely use up a lot of the materials youve collected. Hed been pretty nice during our last meeting. Even if that meeting had lasted all of a few minutes. If he was as legit as he wanted to appear, then hed be willing to bend a bit to let me help him better. Also, he knew a lot of the more community-based groups in the city. If anyone would know how to get people ready for the oncoming apocalypse, then it would be him. I decided to call him. It was less impersonal than an email or a message. That, and I wasnt so great with words. The line rang twice before Peter answered. Hello? he asked. He sounded out of breath. Hey, Peter, its Cat, I said. You alright? Huh? Oh, yes. I had to jog a bit to catch the train. Sorry. Im fine now. How can I help? Is this about the clinic? Yeah, a bit, I said. Im getting things ready for that on my end, but we might have a bit of a problem. What sort? Peter asked. You know those aliens that like eating people? Were about to get swarmed by a fuckload of them from all sides across the entire planet, all at once. We have maybe a day to really prepare for it. So I was thinking that maybe we should focus on that kind of thing. I still want to set up a clinic, but I was thinking of maybe having it be at my place? Itll be safer. I think a lot more people will be needing medical attention in the coming weeks. Uh, Peter said. Are you serious? Deadly, yeah. ...Dang. I blinked. Dang? Really? This guy needed to be less nice. Look, just call up whomever you think can help with this shit. I dont imagine things getting better anytime soon, but maybe we can soften the blow a bit. Will you be fighting? he asked. Yeah. I dont know the details on that yet. We might need volunteers to man the walls.. Or to build walls to man. Its going to be a whole thing. Alright. Ill do what I can. Thanks for reaching out. Youre welcome, I said. Get me the stuff for that clinic... say tomorrow afternoon? My place should be built by then. Alright. Thank you, Stray Cat. I shut the line, then leaned against the nearest wall, just basking in the sounds of the construction crew tearing the place apart. There were so many things to take care of at once. I couldnt wait for the antithesis to arrive. At least then some of the weight on my shoulders would be lifted. *** Chapter Three - The Little Meet Chapter Three - The Little Meet Chapter Three - The Little Meet In a world increasingly led by corporate and non-governmental entities, its becoming clear that in order to secure its personnel, the funding needed to operate, and to remain at the top in terms of lethality, the modern army will have no choice but to change its fundamental structure. This isnt a new thing. Historically, many nations were protected by armed forces that had a more... mercenary edge to them. This is just a return to the good old days, when lining our pockets with coin was more important than decorating our chests with valour. --General Blackmill, Treaties on the Future of Armed Warfare, 2026 *** Under any normal circumstance, I would have avoided the meeting like the plague. Myalis has easy access to the guest list, and it wasnt inspiring. Of the nearly three hundred people in attendance, three-quarters were the sort of people I wouldnt piss on if they spontaneously combusted. Mostly, that number was made up of politicians from the city and the country and their entourages, then there were a heap of c-suite representatives from just about every corporation that had business in the city. From what I could tell, the invitation, despite being sent out at the last minute, came with a sort of youd better be there tone that everyone chose to respect. The last quarter was the one I was most interested in. New Montreal had two dozen paramilitary groups based in it. Some of those were small, and most were just branches from one corporation or another, but others were more like Clenze Private Military Inc. The same group that had cordoned off the incursion... was it just last week? They wouldnt be alone, the rest of the guest-list was made up of representatives of various police, EMT and fire-fighting companies in the city, as well as a big group from the army. I rode my hoverbike around the building that was hosting the event. It wasnt anything too special. A mid-tier hotel in one of the less busy parts of New Montreal, which wasnt to say that the traffic wasnt awful, but it wasnt smack in the centre of downtown. I let the hoverbike guide itself to a landing spot inside the hotel on autopilot. I still wanted to learn how to fly the thing properly, but I had too many things on my mind all at the same time to really have time to worry about that. So, are the best of the best waiting for us already? I asked as the bike slowed to a stop. There was a parking level right in the middle of the hotel, with car elevators to the side where people could park their vehicles and have them disappear below and out of sight until they called them back up. I didnt bother with any of that and just brought my bike over to the side of the nearest entrance and deployed the kickstands. For a certain definition of the best. It seems as though most corporations have heeded the call and have sent some representatives here, but only a few of them are actually what you would consider important members of the corporation. The political side of things is mostly filled with interns and assistants. Only the military and paramilitary representatives are actually well-ranked. I shifted my shoulders to loosen them a bit. I really needed to have Lucy play with my back some more to get rid of some of the stress. Why are we only getting the dregs here? I suspect that the message calling for this assembly was coached in terms that suggested its importance, but didnt divulge the entire truth of the incoming mass-incursion. Trying to prevent people from panicking? I asked. Id heard that kind of excuse before. It made some sense, but it never entirely sat well with me. Its more likely that its to prevent people from trying to profit from the news. That made a lot more sense. Uh-huh, I agreed. She started walking back across the room, as if expecting me to keep up. I had to jog to catch up. Do you know what all of these meetings are about? This all seems rather unprecedented. You havent heard yet? I asked. She shook her head. We havent. If the higher-ups know, then it hasnt been disseminated to my level yet. I guess its just a small spoiler then, since the whole meeting will be about it. Were expecting a mass-incursion. Soon? In a few dozen hours, I replied. Its not going to be a normal one. No big rifts in the sky with aliens pouring out. Just a lot of aliens showing up all over and spreading. Like a stealth incursion? I nodded. Like that, but everywhere and all at once. If were not on top of it, well be dealing with hundreds of little hives across the world. That... is troublesome, she replied. Depending on the severity, that could mean anything from a worldwide halt to all industry while the hives are burned out, to a near-extinction level event. I think the whole goal of these meetings is to try and encourage things to be on the less shit side of things, I said. I figure with a dozen samurai at the helm things are going to go pretty well, at least around New Montreal. The Major didnt say anything, not for a bit, but her brows did draw together. Having more officers at the helm doesnt always help as much as you would think, she said. Sometimes all that means is that there are more chances that everything will be pulled in the wrong direction. Its with those ominous words hanging in the air that we arrived at the meeting room. I was expecting some sort of auditorium, with seats lined up towards a stage. Instead, the meeting was going to take place in a large room dominated by a huge, oval table. About forty chairs sat around the table, with little microphones in front of them and a few pitchers of cool water sat in strategic locations. Some were filled already, but mercs and people in neat uniforms, and, of course, by a few samurai who couldnt help but stand out from the crowd. I waved to Gomorrah who was near the far wall, Franny next to her, then continued to take in the room and its occupants. The weight on my shoulders only grew heavier. *** Chapter Four - How to Stall the End of the World Chapter Four - How to Stall the End of the World Chapter Four - How to Stall the End of the World Words like Caucasian or African American became far too loaded and controversial, not to mention inaccurate as time progressed. So, in order to alleviate some of the issues that came from the use of these words, a system was created that properly categorised a person based on ethnicity, origin, and appearance. It worked similar to the dewey-decimal system that categorised books, with multiple sets of numbers meaning different things. The system could accurately convey a persons history and ethnicity in a single string of letters and numbers. This was widely viewed as a terrible idea and was quickly discontinued. --Professor Adams, lecture on the Sociological Impact of Titles in the Information Age, 2029 *** Major Hunt pointed to a seat near the middle of the table. There was a little hovering placard in front of it that had my name on it. Well, it said Stray Cat which was sort of my name, at least in present company. Thats your seat, she said. I guess so. Where are you sitting? I asked. Backroom. Theres a feed of this meeting room. Its where all the less-important people are sitting and listening in, she said. A Major doesnt rank high enough to participate? I asked. Not here, no, she said. She smacked me on the shoulder before moving past. Good luck, samurai. And remember, the first priority is making those xeno burn. Yeah, yeah, I said. I watched her go for a bit, then moved over to my designated seat. It happened to not be too far from Gomorrahs, so I was able to see her mask and nod as I sat. We were just far enough that conversation aloud would be awkward though. Gomorrah nodded back, then turned to Franny. Want to go hang out in the back? Im sure theyll make room for you. Better back there than up here, Franny said. She patted Gomorrah on the shoulder. Ill see if they have anything worth eating around here. Im feeling peckish. Gomorrah whispered something back, but I chose not to listen in, that was until she turned back towards me. Did you handle everything that needed handling? Not even half of it, I said. You get your own stuff in order? Gomorrah took a deep breath, then let it out as a long suffering sigh. No. Not everyone took the news as well as I would have liked. Then again, I could hardly expect them to. The nuns are already run ragged taking care of the people we saved from the sewers. Were going to end up with a lot more people that need saving in the next few weeks. They do a lot of post-incursion stuff, right? Gomorrah nodded. Theyre still sending some sisters out to deliver blankets and supplies to people from the last incursion. The timing here is kind of terrible. And Im Gomorrah, Gomorrah replied. She nodded to him and he smiled right back, unaffected by the frowning mask she wore. Ah, I am meeting so many companions today. Its a good day, despite all the news, isnt it? Uh, yeah, sure, I said. I didnt quite know how to deal with someone so optimistic and happy. Well, no, Lucy could be that way, but I wasnt going to deal with this guy the way I dealt with her. So, those patterns on your armour, is that for like, a shield or something? He blinked, then tilted his head back and laughed. No! No no, little Stray Cat. These are my tatau. I have them printed onto my armour as they are on my skin. I would much prefer to be without the armour, but my pride wont stop a bite, and besides, its cold around here. Huh, thats neat, I said. Sam-o-Ray nodded. I thought so too. I was going to ask him a few more questions, just shit to pass the time, when someone cleared their throat. A man was standing at the front of the table, gesturing to others to find their seats. He was a tall fellow, with a well-tailored suit and a crown sitting atop his head. Hello everyone, he said. His voice was transmitted across the room to a few speakers tucked away in the corners. My name is Jolly Monarch. Ill be the one directing this meeting. Another samurai? He did have a few interesting scars on his face, but his darker skin hid them well. I guessed that the crown was something of a give away. We dont have all that much time, nor do I want this to go on for too long. As of right now, every hour we have has to be used to its utmost, and that means wasting as few as possible. For that reason, we wont be going over introductions and will begin right away. Were a few minutes ahead of schedule, but everyone that will be here is here already. Jolly Monarch gestured, and a hologram flicked to life above the table. Earth, floating in empty space while rotating in a slow circle. Red dots started to appear on the surface, mostly around that big space that I vaguely recognized as Russia, then spreading out in every direction like a ripple. The last place to be covered in little dots was South America. Sometime in the next seventy-two hours, we expect to get hit by approximately three thousand stealth incursions. Fuck, someone lower down the table said. Judging by the murmurs from the non-samurai around us, they hadnt all gotten the memo. I glanced around, taking in a lot of people in suits and more in military-like uniforms. There had to be reps from half a dozen PMCs in the room. Our focus, Jolly Monarch said. Will be this area. The holomap changed to a view of New Montreal from above, as well as a big circle around the city. It extended out maybe a hundred kilometres in diameter. The New Montreal area is, in terms of sheer space, minuscule. But it also represents the location where nearly a hundred million people live. Our task is to set up a defensive perimeter around the city to keep it safe while also preparing strike groups that will head out and destroy any hives in this area. A second circle appeared, maybe twice the size of the first. As the hologram panned out, it overlapped with some other circles next to other cities to the south, east and west. Now that were all on the same page, Jolly Monarch said. It was pretty damned clear that we werent, but he seemed eager to plough past that. Lets figure out exactly how we can stall the end of the world. Shall we? *** Chapter Five - Logistics Chapter Five - Logistics Chapter Five - Logistics A plans complexity is tied to a logarithmic increase in the difficulty to provide logistical support to the pawns involved in said plan. --Tin Man, professional RTS player, 2025 *** It was incredible how a meeting that would literally determine whether hundreds of millions of people lived or died could devolve into something so incredibly boring in the span of a couple of minutes. Jolly Monarch and his AI had scanned the environment around the city and had plotted out the best locations for fortifications, outposts, defensive structures and rally points. The plan looked pretty sound to me, but a few of the generals and military sorts had questions about it. The biggest problem was that the plan assumed that every available soldier, police officer, and hired gun in the city would be willing to man the walls. That was almost stupidly optimistic. Of the two dozen groups in the room, about a quarter were vocally reluctant to participate at all, another quarter would only work for good pay, and yet another quarter were being real quiet about their opinions, and I had the impression they were as likely to bolt as they were to stay and help. Interestingly, the plan didnt give any of the samurai present fixed locations. Instead, we were told that wed be called in, as available, to handle any large surges in the oncoming incursion. Jolly Monarch had some sort of Family-based system that could predict who would be best where, more or less. So, I could expect to either volunteer to stem the tide, or be called over to wherever things were at their worst to take some of the burden off the normal folk manning the walls. The meeting was supposed to last an hour. By the third, I was practically nodding off in my seat. Jolly Monarch knocked his knuckles onto the table. I wasnt the only one to jump. And thatll be the end for the meeting today. We have nearly every construction crew in the city heading to the outskirts in the morning. If things go well, by the end of next month there should be a wall all the way around New Montreal. Payments, shifts, and deployment orders will be sent out from the offices of the Family. Feel free to email us any additional concerns and needs. The older samurai adjusted his crown, then with a nod to the lot of us, backed away from the table. I was caught a bit flat-footed by the sudden end to the meeting. Generals and PMC leaders stood up, some forming little cliques that whispered between each other. In the centre of the room, an AR hologram of New Montreal continued to circle around slowly. It only took me a moment to spot the museum. It was clear that the projection was somewhat real-time. Half the upper floor was outright missing, and I could make out tiny pixel-wide figures moving around. The museum wasnt on the edges of New Montreal, but it wasnt in the centre either. Jolly Monarch had highlighted areas of higher and lower risk, and we were bordering one of the higher risk parts. That last incursion a few days ago had wrecked that part of the city, and any defences that might have been there were in bad need of replacement or repair. Cat? I glanced to the side and found Gomorrah standing next to me. Hey, I said. You alright? she asked. I hadnt considered that. For that matter, I didnt think the Family would really push us that hard. Then again, they did have something of a stick up their asses sometimes. Thanks for the heads up. I said. Im heading back there now. Gomorrah nodded and extended a hand to shake. I pulled her into a quick hug instead, with a few good pats on her back for good measure. Give Franny a hug for me, I said as I started to head out. I could feel her eyes rolling behind me. Sam-o-Ray gave me a nod on the way out, but other than that, no one slowed me down as I headed out of the hotel and to the parking garage where my hoverbike waited for me. What sort of big purchases are you aiming to make? That depends, I guess. Whats my point total at? Current Point Total: 10,494 I nodded as I swung a leg over the bike and made sure my coat was sitting right. Alright. First priority is the museum. I want it secure as hell. Did you get into contact with Lucy about it? Shes been playing with designs for the last few hours, between watching over the Kittens and asking me about your status. She has more or less chosen one design and has been making minimal adjustments to it for the past hour. Cool, I said. Tell her to finish it up. Well be installing it tonight. Right, after that... I want construction and repair drones. Maybe with their blueprints? I want to be able to fix the rest of the building up. Its less urgent, but its still a priority. You dont own the rest of the building. Its possible that the other owners will complain. Let them, I said. Noted. A single construction drone provided with limitless resources could properly reinforce the tower in the span of several weeks. I want to do more than that, I said. Turrets. We need a blueprint for something small and easy to install. Maybe something that doesnt need to be reloaded? Like lasers or something. A small laser emplacement, with a solar-cell for power generation and a connection to the citys grid might work. A blueprint can be drawn up for something small enough to be built from your fabrication machine. That sounds perfect, I said. Though something so small will have a difficult time against anything in the third tier and above. Thats fine. Well upgrade things as we go. I shot out of the parking lot and beelined for the sky. For now, lets just get a good, secure place where we wont have to worry about aliens. *** Chapter Six - Kitty Cat Palace Chapter Six - Kitty Cat Palace Chapter Six - Kitty Cat Palace Theres value in memes, you know? Its a bitch to quantify it, but its there. Anything thats instantly recognizable by a large number of people has value. Maybe not value that can be instantly transformed into capital, but cultural and social value, and sometimes that can be worth a lot more than just money. --So Youre a Meme, Now What? Pamphlet, 2024 *** I hovered over the museum, some hundred metres over the top of it, my arms crossed so that my elbows were leaning against the handlebars of my bike. Below me, the last of the contractors were moving away, large hovering dumpster trucks flying with all the skill and precision of whales while smaller hovercraft darted away. Renovating the museum would take people weeks. Destroying it had taken hours. The one was much easier than the other, and I bet if I was a more poetic sort of soul Id find something meaningful to say about that. Is everything ready? I asked. Its unlikely. While the contractors are professionals, they were in a hurry to execute your orders. Then well start with the construction drones, I said. Two of them should be enough, right? A single construction drone could, given materials and the infrastructure with which to recharge itself, rebuild this city from scratch. The issue is less the number of drones, and more the amount of time youre willing to give them to work. And to pre-empt your question, since the work is mostly done I suspect it would take one drone approximately an hour to check and finalise the work. It would take two less than half that time. Less than half the time? I asked. The work-time to workers ratio isnt linear. Alright, I said. I didnt quite get it, but I also didnt care enough to ask for a full-on explanation. Im going to need to unlock a new catalogue or two, wont I? In this case, it would actually be somewhat cheaper to just purchase one catalogue with a wider range, than two more specific catalogues. The three things youre looking for; construction drones, turret emplacements, and specification-precise pre-built structures, are all available in the Defensive Structures catalogue. The catalogue costs 400 points to purchase. Steep, I muttered. Alright, lets do it. New Purchase: Defensive Structures Points Reduced to: 10,094 I winced. My next purchase would drop me below ten-thousand points. That sucked, but I could live with it. Alright, the drones next, I said as I shifted on my seat. It was a decently comfortable seat. Some sort of gel padding, if I had to guess. And my armour was decently comfortable too. Still didnt stop me from getting a bit sore from staying in the same position for so long. My eyesight flickered over the museum, and then the building was complete. The addition was slightly opaque, and I could see vehicles moving through it. So just a projection, but a damned realistic one. The top floor was now a sharp-edged box. The roof tapered in at the edges. There were added landing pads on the sides, as well as a few pillars that stuck out at an angle. Are those turret emplacements? I asked. Indeed. They are there to give any turret placed within them a wide downwards firing arc. It looked pretty modern. Sleek and sharp. It contrasted a bit with the rest of the building, but not so much so that it looked wrong. I couldnt see much of Lucys touch in the design. Then I squinted and it was as if the outer walls melted away. The interior was spacious, with lots of rooms and a few corridors connecting everything together. Other than the bedrooms, most areas were open enough that there wouldnt be any places to hide. Lots of upper-floor balconies and half-walls separating areas apart. It was much bigger than the museum was. Not so much in width and length but in height. There was a dip on one end around Longbows turret installation, but the rest was much taller. That would wreck his line of sight, I figured. Alright, I said. It looks perfectly acceptable. And yeah, a bit boring. Whats the other one? The projection disappeared, and I found myself looking down at the torn open top floor of the museum again for just a moment before a new projection flickered into place. I closed my eyes and sighed. Dammit Lucy. The building now looked like a giant cat. It wasnt a furry, cartoony sort of cat. More like a sphynx. It was a bit blocky, and the shape was strange, but there was no denying that the entire floor was cat-like. The front had a head looking out towards the edge of the city, with a landing space between two paws. The worst thing was that it looked mostly functional. There were windows hidden along the sides where the walls jutted out as a series of angled panels that looked tough and also imitated fur a bit. The face had windows behind the eyes and what looked like study rooms once I looked past the walls, and the main body of the cat left plenty of room on the inside for living space. Not as much as the previous design, but still plenty. If anything, I liked the interior of this design more. It was a bit less impersonal. While the design is amusing, I want to note that I ensured that air circulation, living space arrangement, and defensive installations were optimised before it was finalised. I dont want to compromise too much for aesthetics. It looks a bit... damnit. I wanted to say childish, but Lucy had been too clever by half for that. The building didnt look cartoonish at all. It could have been the top floor of a fancy casino, or maybe a themed hotel. Does it have room for defences? Like, offensive defences? Panels opened along the cats back, revealing hidden gun emplacements that were left empty. Longbows gun emplacement would have more room too, being right at the base of the cats neck. It would block one angle of attack, but not the rest. And the building would be iconic enough that people would know where to find me. Which wasnt a bad thing. How much is this thing? Seven thousand six-hundred points. I cant believe Im going to spend so much on a fucking meme. *** Chapter Seven - Home Sweet Fortress Chapter Seven - Home Sweet Fortress Chapter Seven - Home Sweet Fortress If you look back at our records--which unfortunately only stretch back to the early 1900s reliably--then you can chart the size of the average persons home through time. Its pretty obvious that from the 1940s onwards, the average size of a familys dwelling became significantly smaller year by year. Now, in the early 2040s, a hundred years after the start of that decline in space, it isnt uncommon for the average person to have under a hundred square feet to call home. --Quote from a Jon Mott Youtube video, 2042 *** I sent a text to the construction company foreman, asking him if the area was cleared. Then I sent another to Rac, to make sure she was safe. Apparently she was hanging out with the printer which had been moved into the room where Longbow was storing his gun. I told her to stay there for the next few minutes. It wasnt far off and it was probably a safe spot for the moment. And that was it for preparations. I think were ready, I said. The area is cleared of living people, the struts are cleared and all structural points have been cleared by your new drones. It seems as though some of the metal used in the construction of the main building was predictably sub-par, but its all still well within tolerances. You mentioned the drones being able to fix stuff, right? Well set them to upgrading the rest of the building later. I hovered down so that I was closer to the building. I couldnt call it the museum anymore, not when the entire top floor was gutted. Lets do it, I said. This was going to be, by far, my largest purchase yet. That was a lot of points gone, points I could have spent on guns and armour and toys. Still, it would provide something important. A place for the kittens to stay, a safe place for Lucy to live in. A home. New Purchase: Custom Building Points Reduced to: 1,894 Such a small name for such a huge point sink. I looked at the museum, waiting for something to happen. It seemed entirely unchanged, and I wondered if Myalis had made a mistake. Hey, wher-- There was a bang, like a car backfiring. A huge sphinx now sat atop the building, a cloud of dust falling away from it. Whoa, I said as I pulled my bike back. Everything sat pretty though. No big explosions, no sudden collapse. I waited, expecting it all to crumble apart, but it held fast. Well then, I breathed out. Riding my hovercycle around, I flew to the front of the building and came to a gentle landing between the cats forepaws. My bikes landing legs popped out and I slid off and stepped onto the landing pad. The huge cat head had looked a bit silly on the plans, but from up close, towering above me, it was actually rather intimidating. For you? I asked. Simple. Myalis, did you narrow down a good turret blueprint? Indeed. Two of them, in fact. One I would suggest using around your new base, and another that is more mobile and easy to place, though they are weaker overall. The second requires significantly less maintenance and only needs some sunlight in order to recharge itself. Huh, I said. Two options wasnt bad. Whats the first one need then? The first is from your Plasma Weaponry catalogue. It requires more power and ammunition to be fed into it. The destructive abilities are significantly greater though. If you intend to protect your home against Antithesis in the third tier and up, then I would consider using these. Two images of turrets hovered before me. I have to admit I was instantly enamoured with the plasma turret. It was a big chonky boy, with a big barrel that had rings around it and a heavy base that looked like it was made to fit on a battleship. The other turret looked fine. A box with a stubby barrel, some panels around it, and suction-cup like legs. It was the off-brand Ikea of laser turrets. Cant you make that one look less lame? I asked. In trying to keep the price low, I forwent any attempt at making the design appealing. I can armour it up for a few points, perhaps add some glowing bits to it? The design changed, gaining a bulkier frame with some inset holes that glowed from within. The barrel got a bit fatter, and the end of it now looked like the silhouette of a cats head. Stupid, but somehow much better, I said. What a wonderful way to add ten points to the cost of something. Do you approve of both? How dangerous are they? I asked. Both are fairly lethal. The laser turret can burn through most first tier antithesis in a matter of seconds. The plasma turret can fire a supersonic burst of plasma capable of denting modern tank armour. The fact that the projectile is burning at several thousand degrees celsius might also add to its lethality. For both blueprints, it will cost you around four hundred and seventy points. Alright, last big purchase of the day then I said. New Purchase: Heavy Plasma Turret Emplacement Blueprint Points Reduced to: 1,594 New Purchase: Mobile Laser Defence Mechanism Blueprint Points Reduced to: 1,424 I clapped my hands. Alright Rac, Ive got some work for you. How do you feel about turning this place into a fortress thatd make any aliens think twice? *** Chapter Eight - The Cats Who Were Herded Chapter Eight - The Cats Who Were Herded Chapter Eight - The Cats Who Were Herded The Family is a strange organisation. Its one part a corporate entity whose existence revolves around assisting samurai and acting as a logistical support base for them, and one part a club for samurai to hang around at. The organisation is unique in several ways. Notably, its one of the few corporations whose size has changed frequently over the years. The occasional death of high-ranking members costs the organisation much power, but the influx of new members brings in more than enough to counterbalance the loss. --The Observers Report, Jul-2047 The Family *** When I was told that thered be a meeting with a whole heap of samurai--hosted by the Family, no less--I was expecting something pretty extravagant as a venue. Maybe another hotel at worst. In my mind, though, I imagined Id be visiting another space station or something equally awesome. Lucy had been super jealous last night when Id recounted my visit to Deus Ex home. She spent more time asking about that than she did worrying about the massive, planet-wide alien invasion that was about to go off right on top of us. She really did have her priorities in order. We spent a few hours in PJs, just chatting until, between one blink and the next, I fell asleep. Lucy woke me up with fresh toast and slightly burnt eggs and a kiss that took my breath away. I really wished that I was back home instead of here. Then again, Lucy was going to spend the day moving the kittens over to the new house, so even if I could stay, it wouldnt be all naps and shower sex. I shook my head to refocus. As pleasant as those daydreams were, they werent productive. The Family had a building in New Montreal. A boxy thing, with no windows and what looked like thick walls. It would have stood out from the rest of the city based on its size alone. It was squat and short and entirely hidden from the main city. The base was placed on the ground, beneath the huge platforms that held up New Montreal. I had to dip down below street level and along a main road that was filled with large cargo vehicles going back and forth to reach the base. I couldnt for the life of me figure out why theyd decided to build down there. Maybe privacy? But if theyd built above, where every other building in the city was, it would be much easier to slip in without notice. Did they not have the budget for a nice place? I really doubted it. The Family had a bunch of samurai working for them, they could just kick some corporation out of one of the towers and take the spot over it they really wanted to. I sighed. When did I start spending so much time thinking about real estate? It was such a boring, adult thing to think about. My hoverbike glided towards the side of the building, and part of the wall slid to the side to let me into a large parking space. Soon enough, I think, Sam-o Ray said. I dont think well have more than twenty samurai showing up. Just twenty? I asked. That was a lot of samurai, more than usually gathered in any one place as far as I knew, but it was still just twenty people. More will show up once the action starts, he said. But trying to wrangle us is like trying to wrangle cats. I think were lucky that even this many will show up. Was that a cat pun? I asked. I couldnt decide if I was offended or not. He laughed. No no, its just the way it is. There arent as many of us around as youd think. And not all of us are keen for a big fight you know? I glanced back as a few more samurai entered the room. Two that looked like they were in plain clothes, with only a couple of tools and guns to show that they werent normal folk, and, behind those two, a young woman in an all-black goth-punk outfit walked into the room. She had a long polearm hanging off her back. So, not everyone showing up looked like a total newbie samurai, but a lot of them were obviously not geared up for a big fight. Then again, maybe they had very subtle gear. Not everyone needed power armour or flame-resistant nun outfits to get the job done. The room wasnt even starting to feel crowded when someone clapped their hands at the front. Guess the shows about to begin, Sam-o Ray said as he glanced over. Gonna find myself a seat before the good ones are all taken up. I nodded, and followed Gomorrah to a sort of boxy couch left off to one side. It was strange having a room with a dozen different kinds of seats, but it did make it feel a little less like a formal meeting. Hello everyone, the guy up front said, his voice carried around the room by a bunch of tiny speakers mounted near the ceiling. Im LaserJack, a mid-tier samurai and member of the Family. For the moment, Im also in charge of New Montreals response to the oncoming mass incursion, or at least the samurai-related part of that response. Do note that that does not mean that any of you answer to me. Im just going to be doing my best to direct and guide you to where youre needed most. I can also be called upon in case you need support, additional equipment, or if you have important information to relay to the others. He checked over the room to see if anyone had any complaints, then nodded. Good. Now, before anything else, we will all be working with each other a lot in the coming days. I thought it would be appropriate to go around and introduce ourselves. I know its a bit... childish, but having a name to put to a face, and an idea of each others capabilities, might help a lot down the line. I can start, of course! And with that, our strange little meeting began. *** Chapter Nine - Round Table Chapter Nine - Round Table Chapter Nine - Round Table Host: So let me get this straight, there are two bodies here, right, but both of them are, are you? Twinskull: Thats right. I was twins before I became a samurai. And now, thanks to some protector technology, I combined my minds into one. Host: So both of you-- Twinskull: Theres only one of me. I just happen to have two brains and two bodies. Host: Thats incredible! Does it ever get weird though? Twinskull: Oh, all the time. Im used to it now. Sometimes I still wonder which of my stomachs is growling, and seeing out of four eyes takes some getting used to. But its really handy in a pinch. --Live interview with Twinskulls, July 2028 *** Laserjack was, I decided, a demented fuck. No one should be able to stand in front of so many samurai with a shit-eating grin a moment after telling them that theyll all have to do some kindergarten-level self-introduction thing. His grin never even had the common decency to leave as he started. My name is Laserjack. Im thirty-four, I have been a samurai for... oh, three years now? My specialities are social manipulation and amplified light based weaponry. He bowed his head. Dont worry, I swear Im not using any active manipulation equipment on anyone here. Fucking what? a samurai flopped on a loveseat behind me asked. Its true, Laserjack said. I make a point of dealing honestly with fellow samurai. Now! Shall we go around willy-nilly and give the shy a way out of speaking, or maybe alphabetical order? We could even start from J and work our way around, give those poor A-name people a rest. Or we could start from one end of the room and work our way across! Someone near the front sighed, and I saw Jolly Monarch shaking his crowned head. Youre a piece of work, Jack, he said. My name is Jolly Monarch. Im a long-standing member of the family. My speciality lies in drone control. Specifically a large number of highly disposable drones. I mostly serve as an information officer. If you have any questions, I always have an ear, no matter the subject. Was that a pun? Gomorrah muttered just loud enough that I was able to pick it out. Sam-o Ray bounced to his feet. At some point hed replaced his helmet. I wont let anyone accuse me of being shy. My name is Sam-o Ray. I specialise in heavy ray weaponry. If radiation can hurt it, then I can melt it. He waved at the room, then sat right back down. Cause Player raised a hand without standing. Im Cause Player. I do variable weaponry and armour. Mostly I stream all my fights. Hope no one minds. A couple more samurai introduced themselves. One that looked like an office drone and a young woman in ratty leather armour with three arms. Checking it now... its clean. Just a non-updating file. One of my sibling AI made it. You should have received a packet, if you have the hardware to receive it with. Its a map of the region and all the projected hotspots. In the coming days, were expecting certain hives to become active. Some will head for the city, others will grow faster. Basically, we have a lot of places where having even one samurai could make a big difference, so were setting up a system. The wall behind him lit up with a similar map of the region, but this one had large circles on it. Were giving you all access to our information network. Projected attack vectors, hive locations, and our best guess at the number of antithesis you might encounter in any given fight and their troop composition. In exchange, we only ask that you keep us informed of which location youre hitting and when. That way we know where to reach you if you need backup, or if the situation changes. You wont be directing us at all? Gomorrah asked. Not one whit! Laserjack said. If you want to hit a hive as a group, we have something akin to a group finder in place. If you want to help defend a wall, or ambush a group of antithesis, or even just do nothing, then feel free to inform us and well keep our maps up to date. Mostly, we want to avoid two of you showing up where only one is needed, so the map will update to show you who is working where. Who might be in need of assistance, and so on. That sounded pretty reasonable. Laserjack gestured to the map. Areas in blue are fine, areas in yellow mark locations of suspected or possible Antithesis presence. Those of you who are used to doing clean-up work might want to focus on those areas. And the red areas. He paused as part of the map lit up in red. Just a little sliver along the east side of the city, right where the blue smudge of a river passed. That map is live, he said. Ah, shit, someone who caught on faster than me said. If that map was live, then that red smudge there meant trouble. Well then, Laserjack said. Looks like things have started! And a few hours early at that! Dont you love it when plans dont even manage to make it to first contact? Grasshopper stood up and started towards the door. I live near there. Ill go take a look, she said before casually leaving. I got up too. If things were starting now, then I wanted the kittens and Lucy moved before the air filled with panicking maniacs. Im heading out too. Ill use that system of yours, Laserjack, dont worry. Aww, I didnt even get to the parts where you can request orbital strikes. But yes, I suppose I can send the rest of my presentation over as a data-packet. Good luck samurai. Make sure the city doesnt burn! I snorted as I headed out, Gomorrah keeping pace with me. This entire meeting hadnt gone how I expected it too, but maybe that was for the best. It was nice to know that for the foreseeable future all Id have to deal with was a flood of aliens to kill. *** Chapter Ten - Marketing Your Way Home Chapter Ten - Marketing Your Way Home Chapter Ten - Marketing Your Way Home Work sucks. A lot of people say it, but its not true. Work itself isnt awful. It can be satisfying; it can be something you look forward to. Working with others you enjoy, creating something that will go down in history, becoming better and earning enough to live a comfortable life. There are a lot of reasons why work can be an enjoyable, fulfilling activity. The problem is that in order to create work like that the entire system needs to be willing to take big steps and make big sacrifices. Those cut into a companys profits, and a company only exists to generate profits. So yeah, work doesnt suck, but yours probably does. --Precision Headhunter Co. CEO, teleconference on the joys of work, 2024 *** I crashed into Lucy and pulled her to me. My worries crashed into her too, like a freight-train barrelling down a slope at full speed, then meeting the face of a mountain. She grabbed me closer, returning the hug even as I buried my face in the big mess that was her poofy hair. I love you too, she said. As far as greetings went, it was just about perfect. Mhmm, I agreed. I pulled back enough to press my lips to hers. It wasnt a sexy kind of kiss though, just contact, a reply, I guess. Look, I was never good with the romance stuff. So, uh, I said. The museums a house now. Lucy laughed. Is it? You picked the giant cat shape, right? Its kind of iconic, I said. Ironic, more like, she shot back before spinning out of my grasp. A few of the kittens were milling around. The Twins were in the kitchen space, barely visible over the island, and a few others were in the living room, a movie blaring on the big screen. Do you have a lot of things to pack away? I asked. The kittens? A few things, she said. You want to move us over? Right away, I confirmed. Her eyebrows shot up. Really? Yeah. Theres aliens on the edge of the city already. I dont know if there are enough soldiers between them and us for me to be comfortable. The museum... ex-museums probably safer than the hotel. Or it will be soon enough. Lucy nodded. Ill wrangle the kittens. It shouldnt be too hard, you know how kittens are when you show them a new box. We didnt come here with much. You''re saying we wont strip the entire place for everything its got? I asked. Lucy tapped her lower lip. Do you think we can leave with the bed? And should I tell the kittens to leave anything thats nailed down? Ill probably be working with Gomorrah, I said. Maybe some of the other samurai I met today. Well watch over each others backs. Alright, Lucy said. I didnt tell her that I didnt even have an inkling of what the long-term plan was. The way things had been laid out had been almost entirely responsive, relying on defending the city instead of attacking the root of the problem. That didnt bode well, but then, I probably didnt have the rank or power or whatever to casually fly around and take out entire hives. I pecked Lucy on the cheek real fast. Ill head out again, alright? Ill be back in a couple of hours. Text me if anything comes up. Anything at all. And feel free to remind people that if I have to fly back here, that means removing a samurai from an active battlefront thats literally on their front door, and that Ill probably not be in the best of moods. Oh, you can come in, all pissed off and covered in alien gore, then be all sexy at them, Lucy said. Uh, was my reply. Lucy nodded. You know that righteous fury is kind of hot, right? I cleared my throat, pretended not to feel the warmth of my cheeks, and slapped my helmet back on. Anyway, I need to head out, I said. She grinned, because of course she did. We hugged again, then Lucy gave me a farewell smack as I walked towards the door. Be safe, alright? Lucy asked. I nodded. I promise, Ill be as safe as I can be. Youd better, Lucy said. I have an in with Gomorrah, shell tattle on you if you do anything too stupid. Hey! I never do anything stupid, I said. Lucy smiled. I love you, even if youre a bit stupid sometimes. I left with a grin that wouldnt leave and a warm fuzzy feeling in my chest. Myalis, can you bring up that map? I asked. My vision split, part of it turning into the overhead colour map of the region. More and more yellow stains were appearing around the city, mostly deep into the countryside. A few notes were already pinned on the map. Requests for people to guard convoys of evacuees or supplies being pulled out of distant warehouses. That one section that had gone red was back to being just yellow. I guessed that Grasshopper had arrived a while back and was taking care of things. That still left a whole lot of work available. I dialled up Gomorrah and she answered before the first ring. Hey, I said. Hey, she replied. Done taking care of your girlfriend and many children? Theyll manage without me for a few hours, I said. So, want to burn up some xenos? I thought youd never ask. *** Chapter Eleven - Getting Ready to Get Hot Chapter Eleven - Getting Ready to Get Hot Chapter Eleven - Getting Ready to Get Hot Megacities have their place. We need them. Workers need to be close to factories and offices, homes need to be close to schools. Utilities and electricity are simpler to route when everything is close together, and of course, concentrating security makes it more viable. Shelters and overlapping gun emplacements mean that, even with a higher concentration of people, a city is a safer place to be in during an incursion. Thats not to say there arent any problems. Notably, how do you feed a hundred million people? --Opening Text from Megaurban Development 101 textbook, fifth ed. 2039 *** I found a loveseat tucked between two plants in the hotel lobby and sat back onto it. If I had to wait for Gomorrah to show up, I might as well be comfortable during the wait. Alright, I said as I looked over the map of New Montreal. Looks like... Cause Player, Nomad and one other who doesnt have an icon are dealing with that big orange lump along that highway there. There were more and more yellow stains appearing around the map. Mostly in areas that looked like forests or the like, but a few were showing up on the borders to some towns. The biggest, and the one where the map indicated three samurai were already waiting, was along the old Trans-Canadian that led into the northern end of the city. A splotch of orange in the middle of the lump was using the road. I think three samurai should be able to take care of that without our help, Gomorrah said. We should focus elsewhere, I think. There are two of us, we could go after some of the larger danger zones. I dont want to get swarmed in, I said. Biting off more than we can chew wouldnt be nice, I dont think. Id rather not have to call for help before the timers even ticked down to zero. Not the greatest timer if the aliens are active already.Fo?llo?w new stories at novelhall.com I chuckled. Its an estimate, I guess. I noticed a ping on the map, a small yellow-green circle that appeared over a spot some ways outside of the city. It was pretty far out, near the outer edge of the map. The area was only just on the edge of one of the smaller yellow zones. Focusing on it opened a pop-up. CropCorp LLC - A subsidiary of Soil is Green - Facility 658-NM Facility currently being relocated. Low-Mid priority. Location holds several hundred tons of fertilisers and plant-materials that could pose a risk if captured by xeno forces. Samurai volunteers needed for guard duty during facility move. Did you see this one? I asked Gomorrah. There was a handy share button to ping others about a location on the map. Guard duty seems a bit easy right now, but we could fly over and check it out? Theres some orange near it, we might run into a few antithesis on the way. Well be far from the city though. She shot me a glare. You know what I meant. The city shot past, Gomorrahs auto-pilot taking the speed limit as more of a vague suggestion, and using the clearly marked roads was just not going to happen. Fine, fine, I said. So... what, the xenos like murdering people? I think I noticed as much already. Its more that we can expect things to ramp up towards violence first, and growth second. If the antithesis only has ten... units I guess, itll send six of them to attack the nearest town before using the rest to grow the hive. And if theres no threat around? I asked. Then itll only grow faster. But as soon as an unthreatened hive meets one that is threatened, itll turn its attention to that threat too. So, were going to have to deal with pitiful hives at first, then big, mean motherfuckers later? Thats how its worked out, historically, at least, Gomorrah said. Im still of the opinion that we should just drop air-fuel bombs on any patch of greenery that looks at us funny. Isnt that a bit of a huge exaggeration? I asked. Plus it sounds like it wouldnt be great for the environment. We can plant new trees once the world stops being on fire, Gomorrah said. I couldnt help but laugh. The Fury flew lower and closer to the ground, following atop a wide stretch of highway that cut across the suburbs around the city like a plank over a ditch. I leaned against the door, taking in the world outside of New Montreal. I had seen all of this before, probably. On the days when the smog was thin and the sun warm, when Lucy and I snuck out to a mall or a roof-top shopping district. You could see the greenery and the fields all around the city, past the towns and suburbs that clung onto New Montreals sides. Id never really been able to see it from this angle. Maybe on the flight to Black Bear, but I had been preoccupied then. Thats the place, Gomorrah said some five minutes later. I glanced up and took in the facility. Well, shit, I said. This was going to be more complicated than Id hoped. *** Chapter Twelve - Thousand Gardens Chapter Twelve - Thousand Gardens Chapter Twelve - Thousand Gardens Were locking down sector B, rows 25 to 29 from further testing. All plant life and plant matter in those sectors is to be disposed of by means of type 4 herbicides, followed by garden-wide ignitions. The ashes are to be collected for further analysis and proper disposal. Note: I fucking told you that grafting antithesis shit onto cabbages was a horrific fucking idea. Crop Corp internal memo, 2048 *** I tapped the door release, then set a foot on the cement ground just outside the Fury. A hand on the doorframe gave me the leverage I needed to pull myself out of the car.Findd new stories at novelhall.com The Crop Corp facility was huge, huge in a way that made me feel small in comparison. It challenged my sense of scale. The greenhouses werent all that wide. Maybe thirty metres to a side. They were hexagonal, with glass walls all around lit up from within by faint lights. There were orange pillars, yellow ones, even a few that glowed purple. Their roofs were capped by blue solar panels, which were folded in on themselves like the petals of some high-tech flower. Each rose up at least a hundred metres. Nothing compared to the skyscrapers back home. In fact, in terms of sheer size, at least the size of the greenhouses, the operation wasnt that impressive. It was the scale that was terrifying. There had to be thousands of those pillars, all packed in tight with just enough room between them that a pair of smaller cars could dart past each other. How big is this place? I asked. This is the third largest growing operation feeding New Montreal. The facility covers six square kilometres. Thats... a fuckload of plants, I said. Yes. I should have just opened with that. This facility has the third largest fuckload of plants in the New Montreal area. I chuckled. Yeah, alright. I dragged my attention down from the rows of pillars. It looked like some of them were moving? They had these big vehicles, large enough to wrap around a pillar, and equipped with four wheels that were at least five metres tall. The middle of the machines looked like they could clamp onto a pillar, and there were workers crawling up and down them, securing the pillars that were about to be moved. Heads up, Gomorrah said. We have guests coming. I glanced her way in time to see her slipping her mask on, then followed the low hum of an electric vehicle to see a little golf-cart looking thing zipping our way. It turned as it came to a stop, and a man in a shirt and slacks jumped out of it. You cant be here, he said. Beg to differ, I said. He glared, then reached up to adjust his half-mask. He had a white hardhat on too, it was a bit incongruous over his business casual. No, I mean this is where the gardens will be moved. Unless you want that pretty car crushed, it had better move. Thats... fucking fantastic. I nodded. Okay, Im going to head over that way. If you could send me a map of the area, and maybe link us into your security, that would be nice. I figured that Myalis could break in, but hey, if they gave permission that would make things nice and neat. Ill do what I can, Jake said. Ill talk to the lead foreman and site director, but between you and me, I think theyll be happy enough to have a samurai on site that theyd give you anything you ask for. We know were in a high-risk location if the aliens find out whats here. You got it, I said. "Can we, uh, borrow that? Jake followed my finger towards the golf cart. But thats my personal transportation vehicle. Yeah, it is. Come on Cat, we can walk, Gomorrah said. Leave the poor mans golf cart alone. I rolled my eyes, but didnt disagree. Gomorrah started to head towards the nearest pillars, so I jogged to catch up to her. The world beneath all the garden pillars was strangely dark. I imagined that it was nicer at noon, but the sun had moved past that a while ago, so we were constantly in the shade as we moved along. At least the lights within the pillars helped, though they did cast everything in strange colours. It was also strangely bright whenever we reached a spot where the rows happened to line up to create a gap where the sun could shine through. So, what do you think were going to run into? I asked. Not much, Gomorrah said. This early on, there probably isnt anything tougher than a model four. Maybe a few model threes that are stealing from the site. Unless the hive is really close, then the antithesis doesnt have much business sniffing around here. Except that there are people here. And those people are a threat that it might try to wipe out before growing bigger, Gomorrah said. If we can kill off the scouts, that might actually give us some time before the hive goes deep into producing combat models. Less points for us, but then we wont have to sit here all day. Or for the next couple of days. Exactly, Gomorrah said. She glanced up, and I followed her gaze to spot the Fury hovering overhead. I think Ive spotted something. How''s your cardio? What? I asked. Then she started jogging ahead of me, and I cursed as I ran to keep up. Our faster pace meant that we were eating up the distance, but the size of the place still meant that it was taking forever to get anywhere. A few minutes in and I was already a little lost. The pillars werent all entirely identical, but the differences were just slight enough that I couldnt tell them apart at a glance. There was no guessing how many rows deep we were, and a glance back only revealed more pillars. This place was going to be a mess to fight in, I just knew it. *** Chapter Thirteen - On the Up and Up Chapter Thirteen - On the Up and Up Chapter Thirteen - On the Up and Up These fucks! Do u know how much I sacrifice to keep this company rolling? I only got a 29% pay increase last quarter, and these shits are complaining? Were not getting enough for a house & food. Why did u cut medical? The company made big profits, why arent we making more? Selfish. --Former Nimbletainment CEOs last Tweet, 2028 *** You got those security feeds? I asked while looking around us. The garden pillars cut off my line of sight, I couldnt see as far as I wanted down any direction, not unless I happened to be in one of those spots where things lined up just right, then I could see all the way across the facility. Just connected to them. It looks like there was some hesitating from the head office as to whether or not to give you permission, but it was overridden. We might actually be working with someone clever, Gomorrah said. Well, youre used to working with me, I said. She snorted. Exactly. Working with someone clever will be a new and interesting opportunity. I laughed while I continued to scan ahead of me. We were nearing the sections that Jake had mentioned the antithesis has been seen in. At least, if I had figured out how the sections worked. We were in section G, according to the signs on the pillars we were passing. Atyacus and I are pouring over the feeds from the last few days. There are several thousand cameras all across the facility. It seems as though theyre quite worried about employees stealing plants, or resting during non-break minutes. In any case, weve found three locations that are likely to be the places where the antithesis are entering the facility. Three spots, huh? I asked. Can you mark them out for us? Done. I blinked as an overlay popped up over my cybernetic eyes vision, it turned all the buildings ahead of us into wireframes, then highlighted three spots in a dull orange that I guessed could only mean one thing. The breaches are a couple of hundred metres apart, Gomorrah said. Do you think we should split up? Theres three of them and two of us, I said. I can send the Fury to the middle one. It can shoot down any antithesis trying to sneak in or out while we clean up the other two locations, Gomorrah said. I flicked open my aug menus, then toggled on the invisibility on my suit and coat. My outfit wavered, then disappeared. All I saw looking down was the grey cement that covered every inch of the facility ground. Reaching down, I tugged my Trenchmaker out and held it by my side as I walked on. It was probably weird that I wanted my boots to make big clunks as I headed down towards my goal. So, you thinking about weapons? I asked. Im thinking about many things, but yes, weapons are one of those. Are you in the mood to buy something now? Lets see how tough the aliens here are. Ive got the impression that were dealing with small-fry. That should be an accurate impression, yes. The hives that have just awoken likely havent reached the point where they can produce anything thats a real threat yet. How long do we have? Until we start getting the scary aliens, I mean? I asked. If we rely on the general projections for hives that have lots of biomass and room to grow? Then one full day before the hives can start producing models above ten. Two days for models above twenty. Likely five to ten days for models above the thirties. Thirties, I repeated. A shiver ran down my spine. Gomorrah and I had had a hell of a time against a model in the twenties. Gonna need a big gun for those. Hopefully well make enough points in the next couple of days to be able to deal with them. If things scaled the way I thought they did, Id be a snack for a model thirty if one showed up now. I was a good fifty metres from the orange zone when I heard a scuffling. I stopped, dropping into a crouch while holding my breath back. Something had moved. I focused on my hearing more, trying to pinpoint the exact location of... whatever it was that had scrambled like that. There were plenty of things generating white noise around. Sprinklers hissing, ventilation shafts rattling inside the pillars, some fans humming along somewhere else. A lot of sounds that I hadnt paid any attention to until I had to listen past them. Where had the... I glanced up and to my right as I caught a shadow moving. There was a pillar nearby, with the usual glass walls that allowed natural light in. A model three was tearing apart the plants on the edge of the glass, little clawed paws digging away at everything like a street dog on meth. I stared for a moment until I noticed the large form of a worm moving up deeper in the pillar, its mouth wide open so that a few other model threes could toss in mouthfuls of plant matter and bags of what I guessed were fertiliser. I opened a line to Gomorrah. Hey. Found some alien buddies. Theyre going all black-friday on the fertiliser over here. A distant and familiar roar, like liquid fire being hosed around by a pyro-nun, echoed through the field of greenhouses. Ive found some too, Gomorrah said. Just kill them all. Alrighty then, I said as I started towards the pillar. *** Chapter Fourteen - Resonating Chapter Fourteen - Resonating Chapter Fourteen - Resonating Enclosed vertical farming will be the only way to farm soon. Not only are land prices constantly on the rise. Things like environmental issues (flooding, droughts, acid rain, corporate warfare, fires), make traditional farming unviable in this half of the 20th century. Vertical farms allow full control of the enclosed environment to be achieved, ensuring optimal growth potential, and protecting the profits of the company who operates the farm. --Excerpt from the patent for a fully-enclosed agricultural control tower, 1981 *** I snuck up to the side of the garden pillar and waited. Most of the aliens, it seemed, were held up on the floors above. I did notice some movement within though. The tops of some of the plants were wiggling around, and I heard metallic crashing as a trolly rattled across the grated floor, the tools on it clattering about. Not exactly subtle, I muttered as I started to make my way around the pillar. How many have they breached? In this area? This tower, and the one currently to your right. I glanced that way, noting that the next tower over was right next to the very edge of the facility. There was a fence there, just the sort of cheap chain link fencing that was topped by a roll of barbed wire. A hole was torn into the side of it. They didnt exactly go all-out with security here, I muttered. In defence of the facility, this is a greenhouse. I think the fencing is mostly to keep wild animals away and perhaps deter industrial spies. It is far below the rating required to prevent any level of antithesis entry. Yeah, fair enough, I muttered. I glanced between the two towers before I made up my mind. Myalis, I need two of those sonic melting grenades. You know the ones. With proximity detonators. Myalis replied by having two boxes appear next to me. New Purchase: Class I Resonator Mark I-D X2 Points Reduced to... 1,414 I pulled the boxes open and tucked one of the grenades in the pocket of my coat while palming the other. I ran over to the hole in the gate, eyeing the world past the facility. There was a small bit of clearing, just scraggly grass that had obviously been trimmed once a season, then a thin forest. The sun was still bright above, but the woods were filled with shifting shadows. Kneeling down next to the hole, I placed the grenade down, then fiddled with it for a moment. I set the distance to one metre, then put the timer for activation on thirty seconds. Plenty of time to move out of the way. That done, I darted to the nearer of the two towers and found the way the aliens had used to move in. They werent exactly subtle. There was a pile of safety glass next to a broken window. I shifted closer, placed down the second resonator, then flicked it on as well. That would fuck up any of the antithesis trying to move around. Hopefully that would also lock them in place while I cleared out the other tower. If I had to clear out more than two, then the entire thing would take far, far too long. I glanced over in the direction Gomorrah had gone in, and couldnt help but notice the thick plumes of black smoke rising into the sky. I switched to the channel we still had open. Hey Gom, you okay? Oh, Im fine, she said with a pleased sort of purr that I decided not to question. Right, okay, just dont burn the whole place down. Target Eliminated! Reward... 10 points Myalis, resonator, I said. New Purchase: Class I Resonator Mark II-G Points Reduced to... 1,414 I picked up the new resonator. It was a chunkier thing, definitely heavier than the usual grenades I had. Jogging over to the centre of the room, I placed the bomb on a little counter space with tools and such behind it, then quickly activated it. The sound it made was great, a grating, high-pitched whine that had my teeth feeling like they were about to wiggle out of my gums, and I wasnt even the target here. A nearby plant, with some long trailing leaves, splattered to the floor as part of it broke apart. So at least it was working. I need another, I said. Coming. I picked up the next then ran up to the floor above. The middle part of the tower had a staircase that turned around a central shaft that had a sort of opened elevator platform. I imagined it was there to bring the plantstock they gathered up and down, as well as whatever fertiliser or tools they needed to work the greenhouse. I made it to the second floor, where a couple of model threes were already sniffing their way over to the stairs. They couldnt see me, of course, but I ducked behind a counter anyway as I set up the second resonator. The next floor up had more aliens, with one of those big model eight worms chowing down on heaps of plant matter with the help of a few model threes. I placed another resonator down, then moved on. I was getting a good workout by the time I reached the topmost floor. Even with my suit helping, it was good cardio climbing ninety metres worth of stairs. The last five floors didnt have any aliens as far as I could tell, but I put some resonators on them, just in case. The tower was going to be a write-off regardless. On the top floor, I called up the elevator, then stood in the middle of it before tapping the button to send it down. Alright, I need some of those nanite grenades, I said. Ten of them. Myalis provided, and I got to one knee over the box before tossing one out onto the tenth floor. Then I headed down, flicking a grenade out onto every floor. By the time I reached the ground floor, I figured the aliens above were just starting to feel the sting of those nanites. So, of course, thats when I activated the other nine resonators Id left. I was grinning to myself as I walked out of the tower, the entire thing screaming with the high-pitched whine of melting aliens. *** Chapter Fifteen - Passionate Chapter Fifteen - Passionate Chapter Fifteen - Passionate I have a hard time looking down on them. You know, the people who tried really, really hard to find some good in the aliens. I guess theyre just empathetic people, they wanted there to be some redeeming quality in the aliens, they hoped that some of the first extraterrestrial life weve ever encountered wasnt... well, antithetical to human life. Poor, kind souls. Garen Dispry, Secretary of Defence, 2028 *** Antithesis were quiet. It was one of those things that made them extra-fucky. Normal animals were supposed to make noise, right? I hadnt seen too many, other than the occasional rat, but the videos and such of dogs always showed them moving and breathing and generally making a lot of noise. The antithesis in the second tower didnt make a noise as they melted. It was really disappointing. Gom? I think Im done clearing this area. How are things going on your end? I have an entire tower that looks like a pyre. Its beautiful. I cant tell if the crackle I hear is the building melting or the aliens, but Im pleased either way. Uh, I said. Right, thats... real nice Gomorrah. Should we meet up by the third break in the fence? Myalis, spot any more aliens sneaking in? No, none so far. A small group of model threes escorted a model eight and tried to leave the area, but Gomorrahs vehicle anihilated the group. Thats... not many aliens around here, I said. Were talking what? A hundred? So far we have confirmed fifty-two kills in and around this facility. Gomorrah hummed. Thats really not a lot. Barely a scouting force, especially not as spread out as they are. Did security really not see any others? We could trace back the approximate direction this group came from. Thats an idea, I said. I started walking towards Gomorrahs position. It wasnt hard to notice, what with the pillar of smoke in the sky. We might be able to take out a small nest. I think the Family might want to target those from orbit again. And destroy this whole facility while theyre at it? I asked. I care for corpo property about as much as the next punk, but this place is making food. I like food. We could clear out the hive on our own, Im sure. Well see, Gomorrah said. This early on, its possible that the hives barely worthy of notice. Im not saying we ignore it though, that would be irresponsible. Lets see if we cant destroy it in one go or at least prune it down then mark its location for check-up later. Yeah, I guess, I said. I flicked the sword off, then flipped it around before resheathing it. She looked at the body, then back at me. One of her shoulder-mounted flamethrowers slipped out from beneath her habit and spat a line of fire at the corpse. I was considering what to do next. I think we should torch the building the antithesis visited here, then try to spot the hive. With the two of us together we should be able to bomb it from a distance without putting ourselves at any risk. That sounds fair, if a bit boring. Im sure well have plenty of opportunities for close-quarters, high-risk combat in the next couple of days. Lets take the easy path on one of the few occasions where its available. I snorted. Alright, alright, thats fair enough. Want to torch the place, or should I? Oh, I would be honoured, she almost purred. Are you sure youre not a pyromaniac? I asked. She shrugged. I was never diagnosed with anything. Did you burn the therapists? Oh, shut up, Gomorrah said. I laughed at my own joke as I followed her to the tower. Gomorrah was surprisingly gentle about setting the whole thing on fire. She went around, making sure the area was cleared, then bought a sort of canister with little holes all around it which she placed in the central elevator in the middle of the tower. We both stood back and watched as the elevator--hacked by Atycus--rode up and down at downright unsafe speeds as her little device poured fire across every floor. With the windows more or less intact the only place for the superheated air to go will be out through the ventilation, Gomorrah said. It should burn out any spores or residue. Nice and easy, huh, I said. Exactly. Fires simple that way. Gomorrah turned just as the familiar hum of her Fury sounded out. The car came in for a smooth landing between the pillars. I got in after her and made myself comfortable. Im going to text Jake, and I guess Crop Corp in general. Theyll want to know that were done here. We can swing back once weve found and destroyed the hive. Its possible there are more antithesis already on their way. They could hit the place while were out. I nodded. Myalis, can you keep an ear open in case they spot any? Certainly. Alright then, lets go fuck up that hive, shall we? *** Chapter Sixteen - It’s Technically Not a Nuke Chapter Sixteen - It¡¯s Technically Not a Nuke Chapter Sixteen - Its Technically Not a Nuke Oh, for fuck sake. No! You cant use a nuke on American soil, I dont care who you think you are! --Live Open-Broadcast message from US Army General to Samurai near the Oklahoma incursion, 2029 *** Gomorrah was probably frustrated at the speed we were moving at. It was little more than a crawl. In fact, I was pretty sure that I could run faster than we were moving, at least for a couple dozen metres. The Fury stayed just above the canopy of leaves that made up the patch of woodland next to the Crop Corp facility. We werent exactly brushing past the topmost branches, but it was a near thing. The screen before us was showing a detailed image of the ground, taken from a few cameras on the cars underside and reconfigured so that it looked as if there werent any branches in the way. Some clever bit of software pointed to tracks in the ground that looked obvious when outlined in yellow but that I was certain I would never in a million years spot otherwise. Looks like this is where the groups split, I said. The tracks went off in a few directions. We were maybe twenty or so metres into the forest. That seems probable, yes, Gomorrah said. Its possible well run into a number of tracks. Were going to need to be a little lucky to find a path heading back to the hive. They all head back eventually, right? I asked. They should, yes, Gomorrah said. Im worried that there are a good number of antithesis that arent going to be at the hive itself. Scouts and models sent out to gather biomass. Theyll return to a crater, I said. She shook her head. Each one that returns is one more that can restart a new hive. Ah, right, I said. Well, we can at least set the big one here back a day or two. I think were going to have to deal with a lot of rampant mini-hives in the coming days. Gomorrah didnt comment, too focused on slowly steering the Fury along so that we continued to follow the tracks below. I leaned back, idly watching as her software highlighted more tracks. I bet there were some samurai with better tech to track hives down, but... well, we didnt discuss it, but I had the impression that Gomorrah and I both wanted to take out this hive ourselves without outside help. It would mean more points for us, and with things ramping up, we were both greedy for those. Hey, Myalis, I muttered. Whats my point total looking like? Your current point total is 1,524 points. Thats... not a lot, I said. You spent a number of points purchasing disposable equipment to kill a relatively small number of antithesis. To be entirely fair, I think you did the right thing. You could have saved points by manually killing all the antithesis you ran across, but that would have been at the expense of more time spent killing them, and a heightened risk of injury. Hmm. I shifted in my seat while I considered it. What was done was done, of course, but that didnt mean I couldnt think of better ways to handle things the next time. I think Im going to need some better tools. More cost-effective ones. Gomorrah shook her head. You can totally just bomb it from up here. It cant be that deep, can it? Atyacus, has anyone ever conducted a survey of the region? Are there any caves for a hive to hide in? A survey was conducted in 2034 at the behest of the same corporate entity that owns the nearby Crop Corp facility. The area is geologically stable. That is one of the requirements to build a greenhouse facility composed of hundreds of narrow, tall towers. There should be few naturally occurring caverns in the region. It was weird hearing an AI that wasnt Myalis speak. Atyacus was a lot more posh sounding. So not a natural cave. We could be dealing with just a big hole that the hive snuck into. There are normal trees nearby, Gomorrah said. Theyre unaffected, which could mean that theyre being tapped for resources. Well have to burn this area down entirely. Fine, I said. Fly us over the hive, Im going to drop something special on top of it. Hopefully we can clear the whole thing out in one boom. What sort of explosion are you looking for? Something thatll reach deep into those rocks or whatever. Would one of those thermobaric bombs work? Or is that too surface-level? It could be pretty deep, Gomorrah said. I have some missiles if its only on the surface. Might I suggest a bunker buster then? With an artificial mass core, a relatively small projectile can weigh several tons. It will bury itself into the ground to a set depth, then detonate. As for the warhead, seeing as how the detonation will occur in an enclosed space, something like a low-yield fusion explosion should clear out a small hive. Five terajoules should create a crater approximately a hundred metres wide. I glanced at Gomorrah and she stared right back. So, we good on the nuke idea? I asked. Its not actually a nuclear device. It will appear as a small disk that, when activated, will teleport in a large bunker-buster bomb. The yield should be similar to the smaller nuclear devices humanity once built though. I... yes, Gomorrah said. Neat, I said. How much is that thing? Three hundred and twenty points. I winced, that was kind of expensive. But then again, I was expecting a pretty spectacular boom. Fuck it. Gomorrah, I want this on film though. I loathe to imagine what youll do with the video, she said. Very inappropriate things, I said. New Purchase: 5 Terajoule Helium-Fusion bomb with Mass-Altering Bunker Buster Deployment System Points Reduced to... 1,204 The box that appeared on my lap was tiny. It had a small disk inside it, with a screen and a button labelled Start Timer. Okay, I said. Lets nuke shit. *** Chapter Seventeen - Kaboom Chapter Seventeen - Kaboom Chapter Seventeen - Kaboom Samurai are a fine deterrent, and theres no denying that theyll kill more xenos than any properly organised army once they get going, but holy shit are they ever hard to work with. Do you have any idea how many times I had to walk over to a samurai, hat in hand, and politely ask them not to commit war crimes at danger-close proximity to my troops? --Live Open-Broadcast message from US Army General to Samurai near the Oklahoma incursion, 2029 *** I inspected the disk for a moment. There was a timer on it with a couple of buttons to adjust it. So, I press this, timer counts down, and then the bomb appears? I asked. Essentially, yes. Why not just give me the bomb? Because while the core of the explosive is activated by a fusion detonator, the majority of the explosive power comes from the hyper-dense explosives packed around the core. Those weigh in excess of one metric ton and would crush you and destroy Gomorrahs upholstery if you were to summon it inside the Fury. If your mangled body stains my seats I will be very disappointed, Gomorrah said. Alright, alright, hold your tits. I scooted to the edge of the seat and grabbed the door handle. Im going to tap this and drop it, can you get us right on top of the hive? Gomorrah nodded and drove us around in a tight spiral, gaining height as we went. Myalis, how long should I set this for? The lower you are, the less time youll want to have on the timer. The explosive needs a moment to angle itself in the air and to fire its downwards thrusters to pierce into the ground. Got it, Gomorrah said. She slowed us to a full stop, then shoved her foot down on a pedal which sent us shooting upwards. I glanced at the dash where I could see our height in metres rising, she slowed down when we were a kilometre or so over the hive. Good enough? Certainly. I opened the door, glad for my helmet as a cool blast of wind buffeted the inside of the Fury. Leaning out over the side, I glanced way, way down. It wasnt too hard to spot the opening in the forest where we thought the hive was. It was one of the only open spots in the forest. I set the timer to three seconds, then held it out over the void. Hey, Gomorrah, you got anything witty to say? I asked. Close the door, its getting cold? she tried. I meant as like, a final fuck-off to the aliens. Im not really keen on witticisms, she said. I shrugged, tapped the timer with my thumb, then let it drop. I looked at the disk drop, somehow while keeping even in the air, then with a loud pop it was replaced by what looked like a missile, a big bulbous lump of metal with a few thrusters on the back that immediately lit up and started to roar. You might want to move, you are within the outer edges of the blast radius. As Gomorrah circled the edge of the crater, I could make out glimpses past the smoke. It was pretty clear that there was now a big conical hole missing under all that smoke. A few chunks of rock and other detritus had been ejected up and had come down sprinkled across the area too, adding to the fun. The cars ventilation kicked itself up a notch, and yet it still felt warmer as we flew around. Thats a job well done, I said. Lets just see if anyone got hurt from it before patting ourselves on the back, Gomorrah said as she pulled us out of our turn and headed towards the facility. Incoming call. Its from Laserjack. Put him on, I said. A screen opened in my augmented vision, with a smiling Laserjack staring at the camera from what looked like a nice minimalist office. Hello, Stray Cat, he said. Hey, Laserjack, I said. Quick question. Did you just nuke Canada? Technically no, I said. He nodded. Oh good. Could you explain that technically part? Because a lot of sensors just went off, and the satellite imagery that Im getting sure looks mushroom-like from here. No big burst of radiation though, so I imagine that the bomb you used really wasnt nuclear. Youll be happy to learn that we took care of a hive, I said. It was a small one, so we figured the easy thing to do would be to blow it up. Laserjack leaned back a bit, thought, then gave in and nodded. Fair enough. Usually wed discourage that kind of methodology for destroying a hive. It might spread some bio-contaminants far and wide, which might start new hives, but its usually mostly effective. And right now, I dont think we have the luxury to look down on non-traditional methods. Thanks? I tried. Well, keep up the good work! Though, in the future, maybe send us a text before not-nuking anything? I cant send you a text for every bomb I use, thats just unreasonable. He shrugged. Every bomb over... say, a hundred tons of TNT in yield? Thats better, I said. See you around Laserjack. I think Ill be taking the evening off to get some other work done in the city. Sure. I imagine tomorrow will be a much busier day for all of us, so getting what you can get done now out of the way is only wise. I nodded along. See you around, bud. With that, I closed the line. He didnt seem too annoyed, I said. I imagine its generally unwise to be annoyed by people with lots of high-yield explosives, Gomorrrah said. Ah, come on, hes a samurai too. I bet hes got a trick or two up his sleeve. So, facility next? Then I really do want to check up on some things in the city. Sure. I think I might slip around and help where I can for the rest of the day. I dont exactly have big plans. Oh, well in that case, wanna eat at my place tonight? Bring Franny, well make an evening of it! *** Chapter Eighteen - The Low Down Chapter Eighteen - The Low Down Chapter Eighteen - The Low Down Theres something about the bleak. It just makes you want to wax on about it. Dark and dark and grimness. Nothing but shit and lamentations. But its beautiful. Fucking gorgeous. --Bathroom stall poetry, 2057 *** Gomorrah parked the Fury next to the Crop Corp facility headquarters. It was one of the few non-pillar-like buildings around, with a wide parking space next to it currently filled with go-carts and a few employee cars. I winced a bit at the number of cars with broken windshields. There were also a lot more branches and little pebbles around than had probably been there pre-explosion. I guessed that shit travelled a ways when propelled by mushroom clouds. You get your points yet? Gomorrah asked. Im curious to know if we got the same amount. Uh, I said. I hadnt exactly been paying attention to that. Myalis? Do you want a full breakdown of all your earnings, or just the total at the end? You know what, give me the full breakdown, I dont think Ive ever seen one before. Last hive, in Black Bear, you just gave me the big number at the end. As you wish! Targets Eliminated! Model One... 179 Models Reward... 179 points Model Two... 7 Models Reward... 70 points Model Three... 19 Models Reward... 190 points Model Four... 2 Models Reward... 30 points Model Eight... 3 Models Reward... 15 points Model Ten... 17 Models Reward... 17 points Yeah, okay bud, I said as I backed off and returned to the Fury. Dude was a bit weird. Gomorrah and I slipped back into the car and she started to lift us off the ground. Where do you need to go now? The museum, I said. Or just home now, I guess. I havent gotten any urgent texts from Lucy, so I imagine the move is going pretty well. Thats nice to hear, Gomorrah said. Are we still going to have dinner tonight? Huh? Oh yeah. Probably wont be anything formal though. I sure as shit cant cook fancy stuff, and Lucys liable to set the building on fire if she tries. As much as you like a nice roast Id rather it not be my brand new home that you get to watch burn. Cute, Gomorrah said, tone flat. But yes, non-formal. I can manage that much. Ill have to see if Frannys up to it. I think shed appreciate getting out though. Cool, I said. We rode on in relative silence. The skies were as overcast as usual, but a few tears in the cloud cover hinted at the bright blue of the sky above. Maybe things werent going to be that bad. If every samurai in the region worked together to blow up every hive they could reach and the normal people out there worked together... I sighed. I was being optimistic to the level of delusion. The open fields and forests and decrepit little towns were replaced by cookie-cutter suburbs, then industrial and commercial complexes by apartments. New Montreal itself rose up and engulfed us in a warm embrace of smog and steel. We were the sword returning to its sheath. What are you thinking? Gomorrah asked. Stupid poetic bullshit, I said. She chuckled and we flew on. Gomorrah didnt have much to say, at least until we reached the museum. We flew a circle around the building, Gomorrah paying no mind to the road ahead as she stared. Are you serious? she asked. What? What do you mean, what? she snipped. Its a giant cat. It looks like a post-modern sphinx. I know you love your cat gimmick, but thats a bit much, dont you think? Hey! I said. I think itll be iconic. Yes, children everywhere will rejoice when they drive by the kitty building. I glared. Dont call it the kitty building. Its clearly modelled after an adult cat. Gomorrah shook her head as we swung around for a landing. The big landing pad--conveniently placed between the cats paws--wasnt as empty as I expected it to be. There were a couple of vans parked there, just boring but clean hovercars that had the logo of the hotel wed been staying at emblazoned on their sides. Lucy must be here already, I said. Did you ever consider being Stray Dog instead of Cat? Gomorrah asked. The way you talk about Lucy, you remind me a bit of a puppy. I held back a snort at that. Did you ever consider fucking off? As soon as youre out of my car, Gomorrah said. Who knows, you might try to add cat ears and whiskers to it. She leaned towards me. Just to be clear, you do that to my Fury and theres no god in this universe or the next that will keep you unburnt. Uh, I said. Right, well, thanks for the ride, Ill text you the time for dinner in a bit? Sure! Keep safe, Cat. I waved Gomorrah off as she flew the Fury back out and into the city. Now to see what sort of fresh trouble Lucy had gotten into. *** Chapter Nineteen - Where the Heart Might Be Chapter Nineteen - Where the Heart Might Be Chapter Nineteen - Where the Heart Might Be "With the world almost-ending as often as it has in the last few decades, it''s no wonder that the less robust parts of our society have failed. The economy went to shit sometime in the late 90s, we didn''t really see it collapsing in full until the 2020s though. By the 2030s there were more new types of currency than you could shake a stick at. Every corporation had its own currency. Primebucks, Steamdollars, various kinds of points, usually with some shorthand of the company''s name at the start. It all went to shit eventually. Now we have the handy credit. A monetary unit that means nothing, that''s tied to nothing, and that''s accepted everywhere!" --Ramblings off the Street, Episode 385 Interview with a Homeless Economist, 2041 *** "Lucy!" "Cat!" Lucy hugged me, and I hugged her right back. I didn''t care much that some of the kittens were nearby and making disgusted sounds. They could fuck off for all I cared. "How''s the moving coming along?" I asked as I pulled back a little. Not so much that she could escape from the hug, but enough that I could see past her and into the lobby of our home. The kittens seemed... a bit bored? There was a large table in the centre of the room, a few of them were sitting around, and the twins were hanging off the side of the staircases leading above. I heard some laughing from the sides and glanced over in time to see Nose running out of one of the bedrooms, soon chased by Tim. "The Kittens are alright so far," Lucy said. "They''re a bit bored, but hey, the place has wifi so they''ll live." "Cool, cool. Did you figure anything out with the hotel?" I asked. The entire home was still barren. It worked, in a minimalist sort of way, but minimalist wasn''t exactly my style. "Yeah, I''ve figured something out. I met Rac, she''s off somewhere right now. Anyway, she made like, fifteen of these turrets?" "Yeah, I gave her the blueprint for those. Or I gave it to the machine above, whatever," I said. "Right, so I called up the hotel, got on the line with someone important, and we struck a deal. We give them fifty of those turrets and they''ll furnish the entirety of our home at their cost." "Fifty?" I asked. "That''s a lot, isn''t it?" "Yeah, but they''re providing the raw materials. I got Rac to give me a list of how much of every material each turret takes, then I rounded that up generously. The hotel gives us materials, we give them turrets, and they furnish things for us." I nodded along. Fifty laser turrets around the hotel would probably do a decent job of protecting it. Or they could put some inside, in lobbies or open spaces. "They want you to do the delivery yourself. At least the first one. Uh, they''ll probably turn it into a minor PR thing. Is that alright?" "I guess so," I said. "We''ll have to see how many turrets we can make in a short period. If Rac made over a dozen in half a day... yeah, maybe fifty won''t keep the printer too busy. We still need some for around the house." "I was thinking we set aside half of those we make," Lucy said. "Use the other half to arm the kitten house up." "We''re not calling this place the kitten house," I said. "Sounds good," Daniel said. "And yeah, I can help. I''ve done my share of organising before." "You have?" He shrugged. "Mostly getting raids together for a few MMOs. Same difference, really." "Uh-huh, I''m sure," I said. "Oh, come on, it''s not like you have a degree in samurai-ness. We''re all just muddling along here and doing what we can," he said. "Now, I couldn''t help but overhear you mentioning that two babes will be coming over for dinner." "Yeah, you should probably stay away from them," I said. "One''s liable to burn you." "Ohh, maybe he can help them, actually," Lucy said. "Make men look so cringey that they finally admit to their secret love for one another?" "I''m pretty sure that''s not how it works," Daniel said. "Also, ouch." I shook my head, then glanced at the time. We were nearing five in the afternoon. It was getting dark outside, the overcast above shifting from grey-white to a burnt orange. "I''m gonna go give Silverbloom a call. Lucy, wanna order stuff for us so that it arrives on time? I bet a bunch of delivery drivers will be quitting today, what with the apocalypse happening." "I got it," Lucy said. She gave me a peck on the cheek, then skipped off to the main room of our new home where she bullied Nose off the table. I nodded to Daniel before heading upstairs. I elected to send Silverbloom a long-winded text instead of calling him. I linked him over to Daniel''s number at the same time, I was a little tired, and dealing with someone over the phone would just tire me out even more. I found our bedroom, currently sans-bed, then with a sigh, sat down on the floor and laid myself down so that I could stare at the ceiling. This day has been... a day. Tomorrow, I figured, would be an even busier mess. There are small cushions and mattresses available for just a few points. If you intend to lay there for a while you might want to consider something of the sort. I hummed. "Nah, this is fine," I said. The hard surface felt good for my back, and it was nice to get some weight off my feet, armoured boots or not. I opened the map of the city and its surroundings. There was a lot more orange. Huge smears of the colour marked the countryside in every direction. I could imagine the hundreds and thousands of little antithesis scouring the world for everything they considered a threat. It was going to take a lot of work to make the area safe. More than I''d ever be able to do. The likelihood of the city falling is relatively low. "That''s nice," I said. "I imagine it''ll be even lower if we do our part?" Every vanguard lending their efforts to the protection of humanity helps. "Good," I said. I''ll help... tomorrow. *** Chapter Twenty - Pitbulls and Tacos Chapter Twenty - Pitbulls and Tacos Chapter Twenty - Pitbulls and Tacos Youre still worried about the gays? Dont you think Lord has given us bigger problems to deal with? --Unknown cardinal during the vatican incursion of 2037 *** Cat! Lucy screamed from the dining room upstairs. Theyre here! Got it! I called back. I was in our bedroom, which was currently bedless . Wed have to rough it for the night, but I figured we could manage one night without anything more comfortable than each other and a few blankets. My armour stood tall and imposing in the corner of the room, with most of my gear leaning up next to it. We were going to be having dinner, I probably didnt need to be bulletproof to endure some take-out. I ran downstairs, swore as I almost tripped on Tim who was using the bottom step as a seat, then eyed the main room where the rest of the kittens were making a mess. Wed ordered enough junk food to feed a small army and the kittens were doing their best to eat their way through it all. To be fair, Lucy and I had never really ordered food with a full wallet before. We just kept adding more and more things to the order, half spurred on by our own hunger (I couldnt remember the last time Id actually eaten) and half by the heady feeling of being rich enough to ignore the checkout price at the bottom. Yall behave, I said over the noise of so many brats and one dog gathered in one room. My cat mecha were lounging here and there, watching over the kittens or being used as mobile benches to sit on. I got some affirmatives, but the kittens seemed too busy to give much of a shit. Shaking my head, I ran past them and to the front lobby area. Gomorrah and Franny were waiting on the other side. I was relieved to see that they were in somewhat more casual clothes. I opened the door and grinned at the pair of them. Hey! Welcome to the Cat Castle! Come on in! Gomorrah rolled her eyes, which was nice, I didnt often get to see her unmasked face, then she gestured Franny in ahead of her. Hello... Cat? Yeah? Franny chuckled. I think shes trying to figure out if she should call you Cat or... whatever your real name is, Franny said. You know, is this business or fun? My real names Catherine, so Cat works either way. No one calls me Catherine though, thats like two syllables too many. I shut the door behind them, leaving the colder air outside. So, will it be Gomorrah tonight, or Delilah. Delilah, please, Gom... Delilah said. I nodded as I looked the two up and down. Franny was in skinny jeans and a band shirt for a group I didnt recognize. Her hair was up in a big red ponytail and she had a grungy army-surplus sort of coat on. Very casual-punk looking. Delilah on the other hand was done up in a black dress that stopped just below the knees and that had a lace-covered cut-out on the front. Black heels, dark makeup, some eyeliner. I didnt know you were into the goth look, I said. I was feeling a little underdressed, maybe. Clean sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt were maybe too casual. She isnt, Franny replied. She just doesnt know how to dress herself if its not in a habit. I nodded to her as I went around the other side and sat across from the girls. Lucy, it seemed, was keen on playing matchmaker some more. At least she seemed to be a bit subtle about it. It could all be excused away, and it wasnt like getting the two to sit close together was starting anything. Grabbing a plastic plate, I started adding junk to it, which seemed to be the signal for the others to do the same. Delilah was the only one showing any sort of restraint. The rest of us were more like a pack of rabid animals tossed into an over-full dumpster. Oh, sweet potato fries! Franny cheered as she grabbed a fistfull, opened a burger, and smushed them in. Delilah watched the rather disgusting display, but she just smiled fondly. I glanced at Lucy. Shed seen it too, and we shared a nod. So, Franny, Lucy said as she chewed on a ketchup-dipped fry. Youre from the same church thing as Delilah, right? Is it, like, a fancy orphanage? Huh? Oh, yeah, and no, its not an orphanage. Its more of a boarding school, I guess. You stay there for like, nine months of the year, with a few vacations and breaks here and there. The rest of the time you spend with your family. Lucy nodded. Thats neat! Are your groups big? Or was it just like, the two of you? Were... thirty-ish in our year-group, Franny said. She glanced at Delilah for confirmation. Delilah and I have been together for a while though. Wait, Lucy said. I thought you two were just friends... oh, did you break up? Im sorry. Didnt mean to stick my foot in my mouth. Break? Uh, no, no, its not like that, Franny said. She laughed, but it sounded forced. So, its more of an open relationship kind of thing? Lucy asked. No, were not gay, Franny said. She couldnt have convinced a kid that candy was good for them with that tone. Delilah, next to her, shot me a glare that bounced right off the ablative layer made from my willingness to start shit. So, how long have you two known each other? Franny asked. She took a bite out of her burger after firing her question off. It didnt disguise the bit of red on her cheeks. I smiled and leaned over to Lucy who turned my way. We kissed, just a quick, chaste thing that still left me licking my lips to taste the saltiness of what shed been eating. Delilah and Franny had both stopped mid-bite to stare, and both resumed eating with the same start when they noticed we were done. Oh, its been, uh, a while? Lucy asked. Do you mean when we started dating, or when we first met? Uh, Franny said. The poor girl, shed gotten Lucys attention. At this point Lucy wouldnt let go until the two were happily married. She was like a pitbull with a box full of tacos in her mouth. *** Chapter Twenty-One - The Calm Chapter Twenty-One - The Calm Chapter Twenty-One - The Calm Samurai tend to work alone. Its true that there are some larger organisations run by samurai who exist to assist samurai on and off the field, but even the members of these tend to be extremely self-reliant and have a tendency to want to work on their own. It will happen though, in rare moments, that two or more samurai will work together long enough to form a sort of bond. Lag and Dial-up; DoubleDog and Electric Heart. There have been many iconic samurai teams that have lasted years. Even the extremely powerful samurai accomplish more when working together. In this teamwork seminar, we hope to use some of the tips and tricks learned by observing these to make your teamwork even greater! --Obligatory Team Building Seminar, 2056 *** Somehow, Lucy convinced Franny that she absolutely needed a tour of the house. She had the taller redhead by the wrist and dragged her off to see some of the neater rooms. She was pretty proud that shed designed a lot of the house herself. That left Delilah and I at the table, both of us more than a little stuffed and suffering from that pleasant haze that came from eating far too much of the worst kinds of food. Its a nice place, Delilah said. She made a vague, weak gesture at the room around us. Yeah, its pretty nice, I said. Not as safe as I want it to be yet, but well get there. I trust you, Delilah said. She picked at some fries, finding the most burnt, crispiest one before tossing it into her mouth. Thanks for the supper, by the way. I hardly did much here, I said. Mostly Lucys work. I just tossed money at the problem. Its still a nice gesture. I needed to get out of the house. That bad? I asked. Ive complained about it at length already, she said. Besides, it really isnt that bad. Just a lot of old worried nuns who dont know what they can do to help. It weighs on you, you know? Not knowing, not being able to act. I think... maybe thats one of the requirements to become a vanguard. I tilted my head. You mean you need to be pissed that you cant do anything? Didnt you feel that, when you were offered the position? Delilah asked. I snorted. If I recall, I was mostly thinking oh shit oh fuck Im going to die. There might have been some internal screaming too. Delilahs shoulders shook with a single exhale of laughter. I guess thats fair. We dont exactly have the most peaceful job there is. Yeah, I agreed. I kinda like it though. She nodded along. Its not bad work. Satisfying, in its own way. But it is dangerous. Hey, Cat? Yeah? Gomorrah didnt say anything for a bit, it was clear she was thinking about something. If I die, can you take care of Franny for me? At around five, Delilah added. In the morning? I asked. Thats not healthy. Its before the sun comes up. Im certain the aliens wont sleep overnight. The earlier we hit them, the fewer well have to deal with. I guess, but for me to be up at that kind of hour Id need to go to bed like, before midnight. I shook my head. Thats just wrong. Itll take an hour or so to relax after were done with dessert, then half an hour to say goodbye, then we need to check on the kittens. Then after that Lucy and I need to take a shower together. By the time thats all done itll be tomorrow. Delilah shook her head. Degenerate, she said. Prude, I fired back. We ate our ice cream, then argued over politics, all four of us clearly having no idea about what we were talking about, but plenty of opinions to make up for our lack of knowledge. Once everything was done, we lounged around for a bit, none of us had the energy to pick up the trash heaped before us. We should head out, Delilah said. She was a bit mournful-sounding about it, but she kept glancing up out of one thin window and at the cold, dark sky outside. It was getting to be pretty late. Alright, I said. I stood up with a grunt of effort, then gave my hand to Delilah to get her to her feet. She helped Franny in turn, who seemed to almost be in pain from overeating. We made our way downstairs, past the living room where a few kittens were sleeping huddled up in piles of blankets here and there, and finally out to the lobby where we all stared at the blustery rain washing across the landing pad outside. Drive safe, I said. And give me a call tomorrow... maybe a few hours after five? Gomorrah chuckled. I will, no worries. Taking on the aliens is always more fun when theres more of us on the scene. And more explosive too. I grinned. Damned right. Lucy went around, giving everyone goodbye hugs, and I got swept up in all of that too. And then the two were off, running over to the Fury while covering their heads from the downpour. That was nice, I said. It was, Lucy agreed. Shes a good friend. Hot too. Uh-huh, I said. Jealous? She laughed. You wish. Unless getting cucked is a kink you havent told me about? Im afraid not, I said. I leaned over and gave her forehead a careful peck. Should we head back in? I think I saw some trash bags somewhere, and we can stuff the leftovers away for tomorrow. Mmhm, that sounds nice, Lucy said. And then a nice long shower, which I deserve after doing all the work tonight. Ah yes, my hard-working Lucy, carrying all the boxes around and only stealing a bit of the food for herself. That earned me a smack, followed by a chase through our new home. *** Chapter Twenty-Two - Jolly Old Day Job Chapter Twenty-Two - Jolly Old Day Job Chapter Twenty-Two - Jolly Old Day Job A lot of people, when they talk about the ideal samurai load-out or specialisation, tend to suggest mass automation. Things like drone armies or reproducible nanoweapons. Its strange that despite the number of samurai that do have some automated drones at their disposal, very few actually focus on using those. --Spacefight Versus Forums, 2041 *** One of the first things I did on waking up was check the interactive map. The antithesis hadnt been sleeping much, it seemed. The orange blobs representing their positions had grown to cover almost twice the space they had the night before, and now there were a few red dots here and there. If it doubled again, it was possible that theyd manage to encircle the entire city. As it was, the blobs were spread out into long tendrils, often poking out from one big area and reaching out in a dozen directions. I could almost see a pattern there. Then, of course, I squeezed in closer to Lucy and opened a few media apps to doomscroll the nights news. A few cities had been hit already. Some had had terrible problems with evacuations. Washington was taken over by protesters from some anti-doomsday cult who were chanting that the antithesis were all made up. The forests around Los Angeles were on fire, because why not, and Mexico Citys arcology had shattered. Shit was hitting the fan all over. I sighed. And it was my job to stop that. I got up, figured that Id showered once in the last twelve hours and didnt need a second even if Id been rather active last night, got my clothes on, then stepped into my armour. Lucy was laying down on a heap of blankets, one bare leg uncovered while the rest of her hugged the spot Id been on a moment before. I took a picture before sneaking my way out of the room. A few of the kittens were up and about downstairs, but they were mostly preoccupied with making a mess of the place. I told them off, maybe tossed a few threats around, then headed outside. It was, of course, raining. Because we couldnt have a nice day of sunshine to go with the invasion. I called over my hoverbike while adjusting my coat against the constant weak drizzle. I bet a bunch of corporations were having a field day pumping the production on their factories while inspectors and the like were too busy preparing for the invasion. I revved up my bike and leaned down lower, cutting the wind resistance and darting across the city a bit faster. The moment I was out of the crowded skies of New Montreal I pushed the bike ever harder. Wind and rain whipped at me, but I couldn''t feel either within my armour. Dropping lower, I skimmed over the ground until I neared the outskirts of the satellite city and started to circle around it. I knew that the family was working to build some sort of reinforcements around the main city, but it looked like this place had its own version of that. Like the cheap credit-or-less version of a wall. Second-hand fencing and cement barriers cut across one of the bigger highways that went around the edge of the city. It made sense that theyd put up their wall there. The highway was a wide stretch of flat asphalt. The militia defending the city could place their old tanks and gun-nests right on the inner side of the road without issue, and any antithesis crossing over to them wouldnt benefit from any cover. The houses and businesses on the other side of that highway were shit out of luck though. It looked like a lot of the homes on that side had their lights off. People had evacuated already, or they were too stubborn to leave their cookie-cutter for the safety of the city proper. Either way, it didnt look like anyone gave much of a shit about them. Jolly Monarch is at that major intersection. Myalis highlighted a part of the highway where two eightlane roads met. The intersection was busy, with a police officer directing traffic holding a pair of batons, and a roadblock set up on either side of the intersection, ready to close at a moments notice. Volunteers, onlookers, and a lot of local militia sorts were milling around behind the blockade while the last few cars drove back to the safety of the city. One section of the road was closed off, and thats where I found Jolly Monarch. The older samurai was parked next to what looked like the cross between a cartoonishly over the top throne, and a parade float. He was standing next to the throne while drones moved all around him. I brought my bike down nearby, put it in park, then swung off the back of it. I could feel all the eyes turning my way as I walked over to Jolly Monarch and his army of black and white drones. He seemed to have a few models around him, most of them about the size of an adult. They looked like giant floating trashcans. Very postmodern trashcans. With little barrels sticking out of their sides. Hey, I said. Ah-hah! Stray Cat, here to save the day! Jolly Monarch said. Its good to see you. Yeah, you too, I said. So, what the hell is going on around here? And what are those? I asked while pointing at the nearest drone. These are my pawns, and unfortunately, they wont be enough to keep us safe today. *** Chapter Twenty-Three - Gonna Be Chapter Twenty-Three - Gonna Be Chapter Twenty-Three - Gonna Be Theres this pervasive idea, especially from those old-ass zoomer sorts, that one day things will return to normal. The samurai will disappear, the aliens will fuck off, back to whatever hellhole theyre from, and everything will be right as rain. Its not gonna happen. Welcome to the new normal, motherfuckers! --Award-winning highschool essay, 2041 *** So, whats the sitch? I asked. Men and women ran around, carrying sandbags, metal boxes, and other equipment. The only uniform they had was a distinct lack of uniform. They were normal folks, with that kind of desperate energy that said they were happy to be doing something but they werent sure if it would be enough. Jolly Monarch reached up and adjusted the oversized crown atop his head. His whole uniform took the theme thing to another level. He had a thick red cape and was wearing some sort of almost militaristic suit, with medals all over his chest and a sceptre by his side. It didnt suit his face though. He couldnt be older than thirty. The situations looking a little bleak. I have twenty-four pawns here, and four bishops. He pointed with his sceptre to the nearest of the trashcan-looking drones. I guess they were meant to be shaped like the pawns in a chess set. That didnt give me much of a clue as to what kind of armament they had. And whatll we be fighting off with those? I asked. Jolly Monarch grinned. A nice proto-wave of everyones favourite man-eating plants. He gestured to the side and one of the pawns came closer. A small opening appeared on its side and a projected hologram started to float between us. The city we were in, and the long stretch of highway heading westward from there. The wave is mostly following the highway. Were estimating between one and a half to two thousand models. Mostly on the lower end of the spectrum. Threes, fours, maybe some model sixes. So a whole heap of them, I said. Can you take care of the wave on your own? My projections say... mostly? Jolly Monarch said. His smile twisted a bit. I have enough pawns here to blunt the front of the wave. I might even be able to stop its advance entirely. But thats only if Im lucky. The more likely situation is that Ill be overrun if all I use are my current forces. Then the locals also defending this section will suffer for it. Cant you use the points to buy even more pawns or whatever? I asked. Jolly Monarch nodded. Oh yes. But these pawns are about a thousand points each. They dont come cheap. I frowned at the drone. It didnt look like a thousand-point investment to me. Right. How long do we have? Forty-two minutes and change, Jolly Monarch said. I glanced at the projection again. That was plenty of time. Okay then. Ill be back in forty minutes. I started out towards the road. What will you do? Jolly Monarch asked. I picked it up, tucked it against my shoulder, then leaned my head down to look through the large reflex scope that unfolded on the top of it. Neat, I said. My free hand came up and rested on the slide on the front. Which begged the question. Okay, so if its fully automatic, why does it have a pump? It makes a satisfying and threatening sound when you pump it. I frowned down at the sleek gun, then, with a hand gripping around the fore end, I pumped the gun. It made a crunchy crack-chunk noise. The sort of noise that says Im here to fuck shit up. Then the gun started to hum even as little lights on the sides and within the barrel glowed an ominous red. Oh fuck yeah, I muttered. I didnt have all day to cuddle my new gun though, no matter how cool it was. I had something of a plan. Alright Myalis. I want to cover this street with things that will make the xenos day worse. I was thinking we set things up with timers, let them get funnelled in enough that when we set things off, it will be too late to pull the majority of the wave out. It should blunt the front of their assault. Maybe a mix of those resonators to begin with, then something with a bit more kick to it? Uh, maybe some of those fuel-air explosives. Youre in an open space, the fuel will spread further, but its damage will be more limited. There are other non-conventional weapon choices that could slow down an advance. Perhaps zero-kelvin bombs? Those would freeze large areas. Garrote grenades could create pockets of unpassable space as well, perhaps slowing the antithesis enough to allow your resonators to act. I like it, I said. Theres a lot of houses on the edges. We could break some windows, place turrets in there and have an overlapping field of fire down the middle of the road. Thats a wonderful idea! I grinned. Damn right. Look, Im not super clever, think you can figure out the ideal location for the bombs so that they overlap correctly? How many points do you intend to spend on this? I shrugged. I didnt have many to work with. All of them. In that case, please move over to the drainage pipe to your left. Pull the cover off and place this within it. I dropped to one knee next to a sewer pipe, pulled it open with surprising ease, then found a box appearing by my side. A resonator with a cord tied around its middle. I nodded as I figured it out. The cord I tied to the bars in the grate, then I let the grenade fall down so that it hovered a foot into the pipe. Alright, next? Next, a Zero-Kelvin explosive under the wheel-well of the vehicle abandoned to your right, followed by a diagonal row of garrote grenades across the street. We will also be placing a fuel-air explosive into the dirt next to the ditch on the left with the spray nozzle pointed downwards. Myalis tone was fairly flat, but I couldnt help but get the impression that she was having a lot of fun with all of this. To be fair, I was looking forward to blowing shit up too. It was going to be a blast. *** Chapter Twenty-Four - Setting the Table Chapter Twenty-Four - Setting the Table Chapter Twenty-Four - Setting the Table It is imperative that any agent collecting resources after the passage of a samurai ensures themselves of being up to date with company data regarding that particular samurai. Samurai that are known for using disposable weaponry might be the most valuable members to follow, but they also frequently use disposable explosives and traps, which can be harmful to those collecting abandoned equipment. --Coil Co. Mercenary outfit agent policy, 2034 *** I struck at the window with my elbow, wincing a bit at the loud shattering crunch that came from the glass bursting apart. That should do it, I muttered mostly to myself. I swiped my arm across a desk, tossing aside some loose documents and shit so that I had more room, then I backed up half a step. Drop it, I said. A box plopped onto the table, then unfolded into a three-legged turret, with a plasma gun on the top of it which looked like little more than a barrel, some cooling pipes, and a small tank of whatever was used to make plasma. There was also a cord sticking out of the bottom. I grabbed it, dropped to one knee, and plugged it into a wall socket. This was the third home Id broken into to install a turret. They were cheap, with no armour and only the most basic of firing and targeting systems, but as long as the power held out theyd be able to poke holes into passing antithesis, and thats all I needed at the moment. Install this next to the turret. A box appeared next to me, and I caught it out of the air and broke it open. The explosive inside looked pretty simple. A stick of some sort of plastic with a detonator built into the end of it. I opened a drawer and tossed it in. Then the next explosive came, a resonator that I slapped onto the desk next to the turret. Time? Twelve minutes until the waves estimated arrival. I didnt have time to sit around and complain that I didnt have time. Id been running around both sides of the highway, ducking under cars to place bombs down, tucking resonators between cement barriers and putting little disks of more traditional explosives across the road with a certain precise distance between them. An alarm was ringing nonstop across the deserted street. Id busted through the front of a car dealership across the road, and that had set off the places alarms. Myalis had encouraged me to place two fuel-air bombs inside the building, where the explosive gases would be contained by the glass walls. Every pothole hid a bomb, turrets were placed under piles of trash with overlapping fields of fire, and I had punched some holes into the dry patches of grass on the roadsides and shoved even more explosives in those. When everything went off, the entire highway would turn into a nightmare for anything plant-like. Next? I asked as I scanned the road. Garrote grenades, set four metres apart along both sides of the highway. If theyre the first obstacle the wave runs into, theyre likely to funnel in and avoid the edges of the road. The next two shots blew deep holes into the roadway before the third connected with the side of an antithesis. And then the last two aliens leapt right at me. I raised my cybernetic arm even as I ducked to the side. One of them sailed past me while the other clamped onto my armour and chomped down for all it was worth. My back shifted and my twin railguns unfolded from where they were hidden. Two soft thumps later and the remaining antithesis were dead. I shook my arm to free it from the corpse still clamped onto me, then eyed the road. The main body of the wave was starting to show up. Contrary to what I was expecting, the horde of aliens werent charging right out but were moving at a more cautious pace. I wasnt going to wait around for them, though. I shouldered my gun, noticed one of the model threes wasnt quite dead yet, so I kicked it in the head, then I started running back toward the intersection. Just in case, I dropped a few more grenades here and there along the way. Youre effectively out of points now. Really? I asked. Even after killing those six? Yes, really. I wouldnt worry overly much. You are likely to see a large return in your investment in a few moments. I grinned as I sprinted a bit harder. A bunch of civilians were poking their heads over the barricade, others were huddled behind stationary guns. Jolly Monarch was the only guy standing up straight and proud as if there was nothing to worry about. I jumped, planted my foot on the top of one of the cement barriers, then hopped over the edge and landed in a crouch next to Jolly Monarch. All done, I said. Youve turned the entire road into a nightmare, havent you? he asked. Cost a few points, but I think itll be worth it, I said. I slung my Bullcat off my shoulders and inspected the gun for any scratches. It seemed fine. Once I emptied it into some xeno, Id ask Myalis about interesting new sorts of ammo. The lot of them are going to show up soon enough, I think. Jolly Monarch nodded. Do you have the air covered? Not really, no, I said. Then Ill have my pawns focus on that. Wouldnt want to lose our help because of some cheap model ones. He gestured, and his robots shifted closer to the wall. Their sides unfolded, and a long cannon slid out from the middle of the drones and pointed into the air even as the bottom half of the drones broke apart into large landing-gear-like legs that planted themselves onto the road. That should do it. Now we wait for the fun to begin! *** Chapter Twenty-Five - Dinner is Served, and it’s You Chapter Twenty-Five - Dinner is Served, and it¡¯s You Chapter Twenty-Five - Dinner is Served, and its You Never underestimate the will of the common man. Certainly, they will lie back and take any small punishment you give them as long as the pain comes slowly like an ache in the back, but push too hard, push too fast, and they will be roused from their lazy state with great violence in their hearts. --Letters to my Son, the biography of a West-African warlord to his son, 2029 *** I dropped to one knee, Bullcat placed on the edge of the cement barricade with the stock pressed up into the crook of my shoulder. I closed my fleshy eye and zoomed in with the other. I could see the wave coming. The antithesis were clumped up, but those clumps were starting to spread out. I didnt have the patience to count them, but there had to be a couple hundred of the bastards. Mostly it looked like we were dealing with model threes. I noticed a few of those tentacle-faced model fours and those really big model fives. A flock of model ones was spinning around above the main body of the wave. They never moved too far from the central group. I was actually impressed by the quick switches in direction the model ones were pulling off, all in sync with each other too. It reminded me of some documentaries I''d seen about extinct birds that flew in large flocks. Things like starlings and such. Youre sure you have enough AA to take care of the skies? I asked. I saw Jolly Monarch nod from the corner of my eye. My pawns could likely take out this entire wave on their own. But Id rather they not have to. Ill take care of the enemies above and any that get too close. Just do what you can to thin out the bulk of the wave. Right, I said. Myalis, you got the timing down for all those bombs? Everything is set up. We only need to wait for the antithesis to step into the right spots. So we just need to wait for the enemy to cooperate, I said. Im not any sort of tactician, but isnt that, you know, not a great idea? Incoming. I refocused on the wave. It was obvious that the entire thing was starting to move hastily now. The aliens had our scent, I imagined. The civilians nearby started to mutter and curse as the entire formation of xenos started to run faster and faster. Then the wave split down the middle, model threes scrambling aside to make room. Fuck, I said. The antithesis moving into the gap was a big motherfucker. A six-legged thing, about as tall as a hovercar. It had wings folded up against its sides, and a long body like a grasshopper, though its head was all wrong, angular and with a large mouth that was a bit too vulva-ish for comfort. A model fifteen, Jolly Monarch said. Its a little early to be seeing one of those.Findd new stories at novelhall.com Whats its gimmick? I asked. The swarm of model ones above twisted and darted ahead, a violent cloud rushing towards our position. Brace for impact everyone, Jolly Monarch said. Keep your wits about you. Aim for centre mass. Kill them dead! Detonating the first row. The garrote grenades Id placed way out in the distance went off along the edges of the highway. The few models skirting the edge of the wave were instantly turned into puree by a twisting blending of angry monofilament. I leaned forwards, squinting to take it all in. I didnt know what the effective range of my gun was, but I was well outside it. My railguns though... I shifted my shoulders, allowing the two guns mounted to my back to unfold. They twitched, then fired. Two model threes collapsed near the front of the formation. Then the aliens reached the next row of bombs. Zero kelvin bombs. There wasnt a big boom, but instead, a wash of fog-like steam rolled across the ground. The antithesis wave crashed into the freezing effect and died by the dozens. When the mist cleared, I could see a solid sort of ovoid sphere pressed into the ground. The asphalt was riddled with cracks, the nearest cars were warped out of shape, and the model threes stuck within looked almost crushed. It was an ice cube, but made of solid, frozen air. The nearest antithesis flopped as if someone just dropped a plateful of half-cooked sausages on the ground. Those coming in behind them tried to jump over the effect, but it didnt do them any good. I could feel it from where I was. A wash of cool air. The breath of some of the nearby civilians misted out of their masks. The antithesis were tough though, and while that slowed them down, it didnt stop the wave. Initiating next stage. Windows burst on either side of the street. Quick flashes of blue light darted across the road from both sides as the laser turrets Id hidden away opened up on the waves flanks. They didnt rip the aliens apart. They didnt have the kick for that. They did burn into whichever aliens they hit though, sizzling holes that took out one xeno at a time. The pawns opened up with another loud burst of fire. Model ones poured out of the air, plummeting to the ground like so many sacks of meat to crash onto the road with dull thumps. The wave continued, because there was no stopping it. Open fire! Jolly Monarch shouted. The civilians, already twitchy, didnt need to be told twice. Old machine guns rattled and assault rifles barked. I tugged back the trigger on my Bullcat too. We greeted the front of the wave with a wave of our own. Lead met bone and flesh and the antithesis wave started to collapse. Which was, of course, when everything went wrong. Chapter ??? - The Wish 2 Chapter ??? - The Wish 2 The Wish - Part II Cat wasnt sure what was going on, and frankly, it was starting to bother her a whole lot. Currently, it was raining mangoes. She was pretty sure they were mangoes at any rate. The fruit were coming down from somewhere above and splattering at high-speeds against the shield that was pouring out of the station shed bought from Myalis with her seemingly endless number of points. Shes seen mangoes before, in like, commercials and shit. They were one of those exotic nearly extinct fruits that fancy people had growing in vats somewhere so that they could show off to their fancy friends by eating a ten-thousand credit fruit. They smelled nice, at least. Okay, Cat said. This doesnt make sense. First time? one of the others asked. It was the cute brunette in the weird Roman-ish armor. She had a mango in both hands, one had a noticeable bite mark on its side. It didnt help any that she looked a bit guilty and shifty-eyed about everything. Her wings were pretty, at least. Big butterfly wings that would have had Lucy all excited. Yeah, first time, Cat said. Something niggled at her, but she pushed it aside. Okay, introductions. Im Cat, I do bombs and stealth. Those dont sound like they go together, the chick with the big pauldrons and the face that kept snapping back to a skeleton said. I think it makes sense, Edmund said. Cat remembered his name. He was a bit weird, but probably the most normal looking one in the bunch. Stealth to place the bombs, then you leave and let them do what they do. Perfectly logical. Thanks, Ed, Cat said. Its Edmund. Uh-huh, Cat said. There was a loud clap. The tall lady in the dress stood with her hands together, back straight, and the kind of look that said she wasnt going to take shit from anyone. The bit of blood staining her lower lip certainly helped her look just that much more intimidating. I believe introductions are in order. And perhaps an explanation, dear Elaine? Yeah, my bad, the brunette said. She paused to think, took a bit from the yellow flesh of one of her mangoes, then her eyes rolled back for a moment before she collected herself and replied. So, I was walking back home when I met a lamb. A lamb? skeleton-girl asked. A golden lamb, Elaine confirmed. A rare mob, maybe, Edmund suggested. Elaine shrugged. A genie came out of it, and then it asked me to make some wishes. Now youre all here and its raining mangoes. She gestured above them, where mangoes were still coming down in torrents. The huge... mango-golems that the skeleton-chick had summoned were protecting them a bit, which was nice, and the shields from Cats CAT station were redirecting the juice to the sides. Cat glanced around, took everything in as best she could, then nodded. Yep, Im tripping. Cat noticed that theyd skipped right past introductions again. She decided to just presume that everyone here was like a samurai. They all had that... main-protagonist energy about them that the average samurai wore like a cloak. I think we have a wish each left, Elaine said. Is it that unlikely? Skeleton girl asked. Shes a vampire, that one summoned us here somehow, and its currently raining mangoes. Ive stopped assuming that things arent possible here a while ago. No, no, Elaine said. None of this is normal for here, trust me. Shes right, the genie said. He was grinning from ear to ear as he spoke. Usually the wishes are for great wealth, or maybe to become a king or queen. This is all terribly unique. Cat gestured towards the genie. Im not the only one who thinks this guy is crazy sus, right? Hes a bit strange, Elaine said. A bit? the vampire asked. If it wasnt for all the other weirdness putting things into perspective I would be far more suspicious. I am going to test something, Myalis said. Test what? Cat hissed. This didnt feel like a good time to test things. Sure, the others were being non-confrontational, and somewhat calm, even, but they were still in some random place, with mangoes raining down upon them, definitely on another planet. She was tense enough that her fingers were itching to shoot and miss at something. I wish for academic papers and books relating to and explaining the functionality of magic. Granted! the genie shouted with a spin and a bounce. Everyone flinched as a heap of books appeared out of thin air with a poof of purpleish smoke--which of course included the word Poof! in large comic-sans letters above it--and then crashed onto the mango-y ground with a splash and a splat. What the-- Edmund yelped. The books disappeared almost as quickly as they appeared. What was that? Elaine asked. Uh, Cat said. Myalis, my brain-AI, just made a wish. Wait, pets can make wishes? skele-girl asked. If I make a golem and have it make a wish for me, does that mean that I can start generating more wishes? No, no, no! the genie said, finger waggling as he spoke. That counted as Miss Leblancs entire wish! I wont be loop-holed or tricked. What! Cat asked. Myalis! You wasted my wish! There are exceptionally few things that a wish could give you that you could not just order. Those few things are all magical in nature. Now that we have access to the understanding philosophies and science behind said magic, even those things will be within your theoretical grasp. Yeah, but still, Cat muttered. There was a 84% likelihood that anything you wished for would have been somehow sexual in nature, or related to pleasing your girlfriend. Im not that predictable. Cat crossed her arms. She knew she was wrong, but she felt like she had to make some effort to defend herself anyway. Chapter Twenty-Six - Breach, Load, Charge Chapter Twenty-Six - Breach, Load, Charge Chapter Twenty-Six - Breach, Load, Charge Plans never survive first contact with the enemy. If thats true, then the best trick is to have no plan at all. --Longbow, about the Navajo Nation Incursion 2051 *** Shit, Jolly Monarch said. I dont like putting people into little boxes, but Im human, so sue me. The little box I put Jolly Monarch in didnt include suddenly swearing aloud. I snapped my head around towards the older samurai. What? I asked. He glanced off to his right somewhere. We have a breach. Ive got two pawns working on it, but I think they might be outnumbered in the next few minutes. Did the wave split off? I asked. He shook his head. I dont think so. Another smaller group, maybe. Theyre pouring out of a drainage ditch on the other side of our barricade. Thats closer to the civilians than Id like. I stood up, glanced down the highway and at all the carnage there, then started heading back. Gimme your video feed, I bet Myalis can set the bombs off without me here. Ill go kill the xenos and plug the hole. Thank you, he said. He snapped his fingers, and I flinched as a drone burst into existence next to him. It was either moving really fast, or it had teleported in. Either way, it caused a burst of air to wash off of it as it appeared. My knight will escort you. Come back quickly if you can. Yeah, yeah, I said. The knight drone buzzed out ahead of me, floating on three disks that hummed as they cut through the air. Other than the three disks, the drone looked like a teardrop, longer than I was tall, and nearly as bulky on the big end. No visible guns, or anything else really, just a smooth white material with a marble-ish finish to it. It looked expensive though, and had lots of glowy bits, so I imagined it was a pretty good weapons platform. I jogged after it with the occasional glance back to the road where the bulk of the fighting was going down. Myalis, will you be able to take care of the bombs? Ive contacted Jolly Monarchs AI already. I am piggybacking over his pawn drone sensors. There wont be any issues when it comes to well-timed detonations. Cool, I said. Those drones worth anything? They dont look that fancy. They are versatile. More so than any drone youve purchased before. Destroying one would be a hassle, even for higher-tiered antithesis, and they can self-repair. Some of his pawn drones have been active for multiple years. Nice, I said. Well need something to seal the tunnel too. An expanding foam? Its nonlethal to the antithesis, but it will prevent them from breaking out. I nodded. Thatll do it, I said. Myalis summoned a large cylindrical bomb, with some 80s movies glowing liquid inside them and a large display on one side with a timer. The nanite bomb, I figured. The knight drone hovered behind me and parts of its surface slid open to disgorge some spotlights which lit up the inside of the pipe. Then my shoulder-mounted railguns fired and took out the aliens lurking in the dark. I climbed up into the pipe and walked in, bomb in one hand, shotgun in the other, with the strap acting as a third point of contact. Walking in a ways, I paused next to the first intersection, kicked aside a model threes corpse, then placed the bomb down and set the timer to a minute thirty. Easy as operating a microwave, these things, I said. I pressed start, then waddled my way out of the pipe. Myalis summoned a small, round grenade. I pulled the pin and rolled it in until it bumped against the body of the tentacle monster bleeding a few metres in. Laserjack called me just as the grenade went off and the pipe started to fill with off-white goop that expanded up and out. Stray Cat? he asked. Hey, Laserjack, I said as I started back to the road. The muddy ground made it kind of tricky, and I didnt want to faceplant in front of a bunch of strangers. A few of them had to be filming, because if you werent filming something that could kill you, then were you even human? Im over next to Jolly Monarch, were defending some shithole little city, but weve got antithesis pouring around our blockade through the storm drains. I see. That sounds unfortunately plausible. They can be like rats, he said. Yeah, that tracks. Look, I just dropped a nanite bomb into the storm drain, and Im going to bully some volunteers into plugging all the exits with these goop grenades, but that probably wont stop all of the xenos. Theres a fuckload of houses here, and they look occupied. You want the area evacuated? he asked. Dont know if I have the authority to tell normal folk to leave their homes, I said. Youre still new. Youll discover that no one has more authority than a samurai running away from something. I frowned. Dont like the implication that Im running from something, but I get what you mean. Look, can the Family or whatever get this area evacuated before the locals get turned into fertiliser? Were on it already. Can you keep the antithesis out of the city for another few hours? I paused as an incursion siren went off, a loud, undulating wail that was impossible to ignore. Yeah, I said. Ill do what I can. I got a lot of points to make up for, and there doesnt seem to be a lack of willing targets around here. *** Chapter Twenty-Seven - Onwards Chapter Twenty-Seven - Onwards Chapter Twenty-Seven - Onwards Yeah, they can be pretty weird. Professor Besters, after class interview, 2048 *** I pinched the tip of my tongue between my teeth. Lucy always mocked me when I did that while concentrating, but I had a full-face helmet on, no one could tell. I pinched an eye shut, lined up the end of the barrel over the model three, then squeezed the trigger. My bullcat thumped back into my shoulder and the shot I took flew off into the distance. I shifted my grip on the front of the gun a little. Maybe if I leaned into the gun a bit more? I aligned the hovering red dot over the alien and kept my breathing calm. I was more careful as I tugged the trigger this time. The shot tore apart a chunk of asphalt in front of the alien, spraying it with a ricochet of gravelly chunks that had it flinching back. It, of course, started to run at a bit of a zig-zag after that. Fucker, I muttered. I was losing patience a little. My finger stretched out and flicked the Bullcat from semi to full-auto. I hovered the sight over the alien, then tugged the trigger back. Dodge this, I swore. A torrent of buckshot roared out of the Bullcat, ripping apart the road, flying off into the distance, and by the time the gun clicked empty, a few of those had winged the model three. It flopped onto the ground, injured enough that it couldnt keep running at me. I nodded as I stood up and checked the highway for more aliens. Other than the piles of unmoving corpses, there wasnt much to see. Nothing running at us. It had been maybe an hour since the wave ended, and since then only stranglers came down the road . The first wave of aliens had been decimated. The second ran into the next row of bombs and traps, and the crossfire from the civilans behind our barricade. The third made it past those and into the blender that Jolly Monarchs drones created. It was rather nice, seeing all those aliens get mulched. All in a days work, though. Its still alive, Jolly Monarch said as he walked over. He was the last person, myself excluded, left near the barricade. I looked at the model three. It was struggling towards us still, gripping the ground and pulling itself along with scrapping tugs that left a smear of its blood behind. Itll bleed out, I said. Yeah, why not, I said. I aligned the front of my hoverbike with the distant convoy, then shot off in that direction. The world slipping by under me was strangely empty. Little towns were abandoned, streets were devoid of cars. A few places were burning down, with firefighters and mercs congregating around the fires with flying tankers and gunships to protect those. I imagined that it was only going to get worse if the antithesis claimed all of this land for itself. I flew up a way to make it easier to spot the convoy. According to the map, it was still a bit away from the next dangerous zone. It would be a good time to catch up to it. For some reason I was expecting a row of semi-trailers, maybe with a couple of buses or something. Instead, the convoy was taking up both sides of the highway and was hundreds of vehicles long, mostly wider self-driving trucks, but there were a few old-school human piloted trucks in there as well. The front and sides of the convoy were being escorted by some mercs in light armoured vehicles, manned turrets on the back scanning the environment for trouble. I shot over the convoy and started to turn, going wide so that I could take the whole thing in. It had to be four, maybe five kilometres long. How much shit were they carrying? Apparently, a crapton. You received a ping from below. No message, just a radar tap. Highlighting the location now. The very front of the convoy was dominated by a large mobile base. A truck on eight huge wheels, with a cannon on the front and gun nests on the sides. It was tall too, high enough off the ground that the lower tier models wouldnt be able to jump up onto it without assistance. A single figure was standing on the roof, head tilted up to see me coming. I slowed over the mobile base, matched speeds with it, then hopped off the side of my bike and landed without a thump on the roof. Hey, I said with a wave. I flicked through my hoverbikes menus and set it into a holding pattern far above where it would be out of the way. Hello, Stray Cat, Grasshopper said. Are you looking for a place to take a cat nap? I chuckled. Not quite. Figured you might need a hand, so here I am. I can run off to the next fire, if you dont need the help. The woman tilted her head to the side, a strangely insectile gesture, especially with her beige and brown armour with its chitinous design. I could use the help, Grasshopper said. She turned and stared out towards the road ahead. I noticed a large gun laying on the roof to the side. Though calling it large was a bit of an understatement. It was longer than I was tall and looked like it could belong on a tank. You like cats? she asked. Uh, yeah, I said. So, whats the plan? Do you know how humans think that babies are ugly? I had no fucking clue how to reply to that. I guess? Theyre a bit ugly. Never really saw them as cute, but I, uh, dont consider babies a problem, I guess. Oh, okay, she said. The plan is to shoot the aliens. She flopped forwards, falling down flat onto the roof and cradelling the back of her gun. Little parts of her armour clicked and shifted, moving her over closer to the front of the vehicle. Right, I said. I like cats, she said. But I wonder. Do cats think that kittens are ugly the same way we think babies are? I worked my jaw for a bit while I considered if it was too late to go work with someone more sane. *** Chapter Twenty-Eight - What Newton’s Good For Chapter Twenty-Eight - What Newton¡¯s Good For Chapter Twenty-Eight - What Newtons Good For Its only been twenty-four hours since the start of the worlds first global incursion, and already the signs that we were not as prepared as we could have been are showing. Id like to take a moment to remember Buenos Aires. Those poor souls didnt deserve to have a kaiju walk up to their shores this morning. -- Family wide communication, 2057 *** I knelt down to one knee as a chill wind whipped around me and hooked onto my jacket to throw it open. The area around the highway was cleared of any obstacles, no trees or forests or even much of a hillside to cut the wind. That wasnt always going to be the case. There was a forest out ahead, with big old pines turning the sides of the roads into a dark pit where I couldnt see anything mean lurking. Why are we moving so slowly? I asked. The mobile base truck we were on was moving at a zippy ten, maybe fifteen kilometres an hour. I was pretty sure I could outrun it with little difficulty. Grasshopper turned her head around so that she could stare up at me. There was no way her neck was normal if she could turn her head that much. Her face mask split apart, the big globes over her eyes sliding back so that I could see her staring right into my eyes. She didnt say anything for a moment. Then, right when I was about to break the silence, she spoke up. Baby elephants, she said before her head spun back around and her mask reset itself. What? Grasshopper sighed. Baby, elephants. She waited for another moment, then shook her head as if I was the dumb one here. Herds with weaker members must move at the fastest pace of the slowest and weakest member so that the combined force of the entire herd can be brought to bear upon any aggressor. Oh, right, I said. We were moving slowly because some of the trucks behind us couldnt keep up otherwise. That made sense. Baby fucking elephants, I muttered. I see one, Grasshopper said. Then she started to dance. It was one of the weirdest fucking things Id ever seen, someone wearing armour that had far to many limbs on it, swaying from side to side like an excited puppy while laying flat on their stomach. So... shoot it? Oh, yes, I will, Grasshopper said. Do you want to see? I like seeing the aliens die. It makes me happy. I looked out ahead. The forest was still a good kilometre away, maybe a bit more. I wasnt a great judge of range. I couldnt see anything alive over there, but then the scope on her rifle was longer than my forearm. Sure? A ping to my augs later, and I had a small screen open in the edge of my vision. I had it grow larger. It was the forest, but zoomed in. A single model four was climbing up a tree with some difficulty, the smaller branches not entirely strong enough to hold its weight, but it was making its way up the tree nonetheless. She stopped firing. How did you know that? she asked. Your... name is Grasshopper? That tracks, she replied before she continued to kill off the aliens. At this current rate, this group will be dead two hundred metres before reaching the front of the caravan. Problem. Theres a second group coming in from the south, and a third moving in from the forest to the west. My speciality will allow me to remove any of the larger threats with little issue, but Im not good at swarms. I glanced to our left, then squinted. There was definitely something moving in the field that way, the grass was shifting a lot as what looked like a small wave spread out to hit the entire caravan. They were a good way out still, though. The other forest she was talking about was across the street from the one shed been sniping antithesis from. I stood up, careful to compensate for the wind and the slight rocking motion of the mobile base underfoot. Glancing back, I took in the convoy as a whole. It was too damned big to cover from one place. Sure, there were some trucks with guns on them, and the mobile base itself was bristling with guns, but I couldnt imagine the convoy holding out once the aliens were waving through it. Okay, heres the plan. Its a shit plan, so feel free to interject with better ideas, alright? Grasshopper stopped firing, moved back and up onto her knees, then kneeled there with her hands on her lap and head tilted up to look at me. Im listening. Uh. Yeah, Im going to drop a few catbots around here. Theyre mecha cats, they have guns, so... yeah. Then Im gonna place some cheap laser turrets onto the roofs of a few of the trucks back there. And once thats done, Im going to fly over the bigger pockets of the wave and drop bombs on it. Are the mecha cats warm and huggable? No, I said. That seems like a terrible waste of points. But I wont tell you how to live. I can work around your plan. Ill keep removing the greatest threats as they appear. Cool, you do that. Keep your coms open. You can ping me if something comes up. I glanced at my map while my hoverbike lowered itself down to my level. We were still a long way from the city, and at the speed we were moving, it would take us a while to get to the outskirts. The area around the city was still mostly green though. We were only going to have to defend the convoy for most of the way there, which was brilliant. We were about to dip into an entire zone that was nothing but orange and red though. A few kilometres of antithesis infested hell that wed need to cross with nothing but two samurai and a few bottom-of-the-barrel defences. The more I looked at the situation, the uglier it looked. My hoverbike came down and I leapt up onto it. Okay, see you around, Grasshopper. Call me if you need me. Good luck, Stray Cat, was her reply. Show these aliens what Newtons good for. *** Chapter Twenty-Nine - Trench Run Chapter Twenty-Nine - Trench Run Chapter Twenty-Nine - Trench Run Operator: Why is the city on fire? Lord Burninator: There were aliens in it. Operator: That cant be your response to everything. Lord Burninator: You clearly havent thought this through. --Excerpt from official transcript between Family operations centre and samurai field command, 2038 Venezuela Incursion ***Findd new stories at novelhall.com The turrets I was setting down on the edges of the tallest trucks were the same cheap crap Id been using for a while. A laser-gun, a small battery pack, a little strip of solar cells and three legs which ended in suction-cup grippers that had no difficulty attaching to the stainless steel roofs of the trailers I was passing. From earlier observation, the turrets took about three, maybe four seconds of continuous fire on a single model three to take it down. Way less time to take out model ones though, the little birds were easy to knock out of the air. By the time I was at the back of the convoy Id set down nearly fifty of the things. They had pretty decent range, and some of those near the front were zapping the quickest of the aliens already. Id dipped down four times between slower trucks and bought a few cat mecha. They were more than capable of keeping up with the convoy, and I figured the extra bit of mobile firepower might give us an edge if... or when, the aliens reached us. I placed the last turret on the roof of the very last vehicle in the convoy. I probably didnt need to bother, it was another of those oversized mobile bases, with guns bristling out of its sides and a few turrets on the top already, but the turrets would give me and Myalis an idea of the convoys status as it moved ahead, and I figured I could retrieve them after, maybe hand them off to the Family to place them along the length of the defences around the city. It was that much more firepower, and the self-sustaining sort. Hey, Grasshopper, I said. Thats me, Grasshopper said. Is something wrong? Nah, not yet, I said. Im about to start my bombing runs. Ive set down some turrets here and there, should keep the convoy... safe-ish. Honestly, its not much, but itll put a dent in their numbers I hope. I understand, Grasshopper said. Do your best! Right, I said. I kicked my bike into gear and shot up a ways. From above I could see the vague formation the antithesis were taking. A large group of them were spread out to the left and rushing in towards the convoy. More were out by the front, where a few patches of forest made it hard to tell where they were hidden. There was actually some sort of facility in the middle of those woods. Probably abandoned by now. Still... Myalis, can you check to make sure theres no one alive around here, I dont want to bomb some poor sap hiding in that building over there. Searching now... no signs of life. The facility is an older slaughterhouse, it has been out of operation for a decade. Myalis, I think we need to switch it up, I said. Concussions are nice, but theyre too... binary. They either kill the fuckers, or miss outright. Maybe something a bit more... fire-y? Something that will last longer, then. A liquid that combusts with contact to oxygen might suffice. With a dispersal system to spread it. Perhaps a napalm-based explosive? It would create a temporary barrier between the antithesis and the convoy. I nodded. That sounds perfect. Same rate, on my mark? Ready. I dropped down, much closer to the ground than I had been on my last run. A bit more dangerous, sure, but I also wanted to be more accurate with my fire. Now, I said as I took off. The first grenade appeared next to me, a small canister, the size of a bigger soda can. It flopped down and out of sight. I couldnt afford to look back, not when I was so low to the ground that the taller stalks from roadside weeds were whipped back with the air from my passage and the nearest antithesis to my right were so close I could see the saliva clinging to their teeth. The first grenade went off with a sound like a fart in a tin can. It made up for that with a wash of heat that I felt on my back as I raced ahead. Each burst increased the burning crackle until I pulled up and away at the end of the antithesis formation. When I glanced back, it was to see a sight that would make Gomorrah proud, a wall of flames, thicker by the middle, but still a good couple of metres wide. Some aliens were caught in the flames, writhing around as they burned. The rest, smart enough not to run into a puddle of napalm, were bunching up and hesitating. A few started to run around the flames, but theyd have a long way to go. A long way while staying entirely within the range of the turrets and manned guns in the convoy. Flickering laser beams caught aliens in their sides and followed them long enough to put them down and the few trucks with turrets protecting the convoy opened up, firing past the napalm and into the enemys flanks. Thats a lot of fire, Grasshopper said over the coms. Its actually good for the environment to clear out some surface brush on occasion. I dont think youre supposed to use napalm for that though. Itll go out eventually, I said. How are things by the front? Well enough, so far, Grasshopper said. But the numbers are increasing. I think the forest will be a problem. Well, I have plenty more napalm, I said. I think passing through the forest while its on fire would also be a problem. Maybe we can come up with another solution. One that doesnt harm the nice trees as much? I sighed. Well see. *** Chapter Thirty - When the Trees Start Speaking Plant Chapter Thirty - When the Trees Start Speaking Plant Chapter Thirty - When the Trees Start Speaking Plant Were not eco-terrorists. That word leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Terrorism is the unlawful use of force to coerce action. We dont submit to the laws of men, but rather to the laws of Earth itself. We can hardly be labelled as villains for wanting to protect our own world! You too, can help our crusade for a cleaner, greener world, by buying our exclusive Mother Earth NFTs! --Eco-friends website, 2025 *** Spare the fucking trees, I muttered as I hovered over the forest. The convoy was just about to slip into it, and it wasnt going to be pretty. Thick, older woods, with only the road splitting it apart. We had maybe a kilometre and a bit of woodland to pass through, some of it pretty thin in places, but a few chunks were pretty thick. It looked like the fields before and after the treeline didnt line up. Maybe this area was some missed spot on a bureaucrat''s map of the region, left alone so that it could grow peacefully. Didnt matter. I didnt need to clear out the forest of aliens. That was too much of an ask. All I had to do was stop the little fuckers from hitting the convoy. And Grasshopper added to the fucking challenge by asking that I not hurt the nice trees. For fucks sake. Resonators might do it. Place enough of them down along the main path and it would melt the aliens. I could ask Myalis to tune them so they didnt melt the greenery too. Resonators werent fast-acting though, they took a good dozen seconds to start liquifying an antithesis, and it had to be relatively close to the grenade for it to work. Good area denial, shit at alpha-damage. It was going to be like using one of those sound-guns on a crowd to disperse it. Oh, thats an idea, I said. Something came to mind? Myalis, is there a kind of... tear-gas bomb? Yes. Up to and including some which have been outlawed by international treaty! Anything like that which works on the Antithesis. I dont need them dead, I need them to fuck off away from the convoy. I think I see your reasoning. Yes, there are some gaseous chemicals that can irritate and ward off antithesis. Unfortunately their impact is greatly diminished when used in open areas. Laying some down along the convoys route is possible, but the amount of gas necessary to secure the path would be prohibitive. There is currently a strong wind blowing opposite the direction the convoy is travelling in. I have another solution that works on a similar idea. She nodded. I think the convoy will slow down a little. That seems counter-intuitive, I said. Sometimes, things are like that, Grasshopper said. Did you ever do arts and crafts? What? Making pretty things from paper and cardboard, and even wood and fun things like sprinkles and glue. I shook my head. No, sorry. I never really went to, uh, a proper school. Kinda missed out on all of that. Im guessing youre going to make a point thats tangentially related to arts and crafts now? Its too bad you never went to school, Grasshopper said. I think you would have been a very good student. You seem very smart. Anyway, when doing arts and crafts, if you try to go too fast, youll make lots of little mistakes that going slowly will help you avoid. Art takes time. Its an important lesson. And whats that got to do with slowing the convoy down? I asked as I glanced out ahead, we were entering the forest already. I could see the aliens in the woods. If we slow down any more, were going to have a hard time with the xenos. Only a little. If were slower, they will have an easier time reaching the area where they perceive the greatest threat to be. That will, of course, be right in front where were walking. Grasshoppers mask folds back so that I can see her entire face. Shes... a rather plain looking thirty-something woman, with clever brown eyes and a few freckles on her cheeks. She grinned. Come on, lets kill them up close and personal. Its good cardio. I shook my head as Grasshoppers mask closed back up and she ran off the front of the mobile base, leaping into the air and disappearing over the edge. Insane, I muttered. The convoy started to slow down and I noticed the antithesis on the sidelines starting to rush in. Myalis, that BEES thing. Now would probably be a good time to deploy those. Understood. I was expecting a little grenade, but instead Myalis had a large canister appear next to me. It was about the size of one of those three-gallon water bottles like those used above water coolers, but all stainless and with a big plastic-like cylinder filled with glowing motes. Unleashing the B.E.E.S. The top popped off and a swarm of buzzing machines flitted out of the top. They left yellow streams through the air as they passed and spread out below. Neat, I said as they rushed down the front of the convoy. They were already lining up towards the nearest antithesis. I pulled my Bullcat off my back and pumped it for good measure as I started walking to the front of the mobile base. I couldnt just leave Grasshopper alone down there. *** Chapter Thirty-One - Gold Star Chapter Thirty-One - Gold Star Chapter Thirty-One - Gold Star Ah, hello there everyone! Old friends and new! Today Im presenting to you, something thats quite the view! A new book Ive written, thatll have you quite smitten. Its called A is for Ants, and it will knock off your pants! --Advertisement for A is for Ants, by Grasshopper, 2056 *** I wasnt sure if I could drop the three or four metres to the ground in front of the mobile base without breaking something. I probably could, my armour was pretty good. The problem was that I had a mental image of nailing a cool landing only for the mobile base to drive into me, and I didnt feel like getting run over. So I did the smart thing and climbed down the side where a ladder hung leading to a few feet off the ground. I jumped off halfway down, landed in a crouch, then took off sprinting to the front. The convoy was slowing down, just as Grasshopper said, which made it easy enough to catch up to the front. I found Grasshopper ducking to the side as a model three leapt through where she was a moment ago. She pointed a gun into the aliens side and emptied three rounds into its chest before it flopped on by. More aliens were pouring out of the forest in ones and twos, but they were being intercepted by my B.E.E.S.. If they slowed down any, then Grasshopper casually planted a round into their heads. Good so far? I asked as I ran up next to her and shouldered my Bullcat. My shoulder-mounted guns deployed and I checked my gear real quick, just in case. My bike was hovering just over the mobile base, if I was needed somewhere further back, I could hop on it and race over. So far, so good, Grasshopper said. Big group, four oclock. I glanced to the right, then tensed up. A couple dozen model threes were rushing out of the woods, a model five trampling after them on huge, bulky legs. The entire group sailed over the ditch on the roadside, then scurried towards us. At some point they slid into the range of the nearest resonator, but that didnt slow them down any, nor did the B.E.E.S. that flew over to the group and coated over them. Shit, I muttered before shifting to the side and aiming down at the group. I opened fire, and for a moment all I could do was work to keep the recoil down as I sprayed them with pellets. Skin was shredded apart, and one model threes head burst like a melon being dropped onto a speedway, bits of the aliens face flying all over. My gun clicked empty, and I stepped back. Myalis, reload. The Bullcat could reload automatically, the magazine in the gun dropping down and a fresh one teleporting into place. It still took a couple seconds. Grasshopper hummed to herself as she ran towards the group. I almost screamed at her to stay back, but then, she was a samurai as much as I was. She shook her head. Come on, Stray Cat, its not too difficult. Im sure someone as clever as you can work it out. Oh, look, a model four! She spun around and fired full-auto into a model four tentacling its way over the ditch. I muttered to myself as I worked it out. This was now a matter of pride. Okay, one kilometre of woods, at about five kilometres an hour, thats... sixty minutes divided by five? Whats sixty divided by five? You can work it out by making the question a bit easier. How many times does ten fit in sixty? I swore under my breath. Six. Good! And how many times does five fit in ten? Twice, so twelve. Itll take twelve minutes to reach the end. At least, for the front of the convoy. The convoy is a bit longer than a kilometre, but we can round it down to make it easy, she said. So, twice that? Twenty-four minutes to cross the forest? More or less! Good job! She lowered her arms, stored her guns away, then walked over to me while bringing her hand out. A small box fell into her outstretched palm. Shed bought something from her AI? Grasshopper opened the box, then pulled out something from within, a piece of folded paper of some sort? She peeled something off of it, then before I could react, pressed it against my chest. I stared. There was now a golden star on my armour, just below my collarbone. It said Maths whizz! on it. Good work. Im proud of you. I felt some warmth climbing onto my cheeks and was thankful for my helmet hiding my face. Seriously? I asked. Yes, she said without any hesitation or even a hint that she was joking. You did well. I know that math isnt easy for everybody, but Im proud that you tried--and succeeded--out in the real world. You are so fucking weird, I muttered as I turned around and refocused on killing the nearest xenos. I didnt pull the sticker off. It was probably some weird alien-tech that would make it hard to remove. Being weird isnt bad, Grasshopper said. It doesnt stop you from being a good person. If you ever need more help with learning maths, I give classes. My students would love to meet you. You give math classes? Pre-K to sixth grade, yes. That explains so much, I said. Still, even if Grasshopper was more than a little strange, she seemed nice enough, and for the next... twenty-three minutes or so, I was going to need her help, because the number of monsters rushing our way wasnt stalling any. *** Chapter Thirty-Two - Meat Thinking Chapter Thirty-Two - Meat Thinking Chapter Thirty-Two - Meat Thinking Theyre like rats. Dont corner them. Hmm? Oh, you want to know if I mean the aliens or the samurai?Findd new stories at novelhall.com Both. --Mayor Laplace, 2028 *** Reloading, Grasshopper said. Got it. I stepped up around her and shouldered my Bullcat. My railguns were smoking already, but they didnt let up the fire, picking off stray antithesis on the edges. My own fire was more of a covering spray of lead that had some of the more skittish of the aliens backing off. B.E.E.S. buzzed around in large swarms, falling onto any antithesis that didnt look quite dead enough or piling onto the faces of the higher-ranked models to take them out of the fight for a moment. All that racket played over the incessant drone of the resonators Id left behind. The mobile base behind us occasionally joined in with a burst of machinegun fire or a shot from its big gun that kicked up dirt and threw a few of the smaller antithesis around. Im set, Grasshopper said. I stepped to the side and stopped walking long enough for Grasshopper to take my place at the front and in the centre of attention. She was a better shot, and a better fighter than I was. She twirled around and nailed every bastard in sight. Areas clear, she said. We have a few seconds. Got it, I said. So far our tactic, if we could call it that, was to have Grasshopper move up, kill everything, then keep moving. Id replace her at the head when she needed to reload or breathe a bit. Judging by the number of corpses we were leaving behind, the tactic was working. Im going to set up another bee container, I said. Can you watch my back? I will, no worries, Grasshopper said. I nodded, then sprinted out ahead and past the latest pile of dead xenos who were all merrily melting away. Dropping to one knee, I picked up a B.E.E.S. container just as it dropped and set it off in a quick, practised motion. A fresh swarm rose up and joined the remnants of the last. Cat, model fours, Grasshopper warned. I spun, taking in a trio of those creepy tentacle fucks crawling out of the woods with their long apendages reaching out towards me. God damnit, I swore as I fired into the nearest. How hadnt I heard it? The swarm above fell on them, and I saw holes punched through them in time with Grasshoppers shooting. The three fell. Probably an ambush, she said. They were waiting for us to reach them, but you ran out ahead. Were going to have another wave coming... yup, right there. A dozen or so model threes shot out of the other side of the woods, shoving bushes aside and slipping through the tall grass before they sailed out towards us. Fuck! Language, Grasshopper gasped. No, stealth units, above. Model Nines, the stealthy fucks that can make themselves look different. In this case, theyre nearly indistinguishable from the branches theyre hanging off of. One of them leapt down, limbs spreading to reveal nasty claws tucked into what looked like a pile of leaves on the end of its branchy arms. I ducked to the side as one hit the ground next to me. It spun around, long limbs reaching out to try and swipe at me. I punted it, armoured boot digging into the little shits side and sending it flying off into some of the other aliens coming at us. Firing forwards, I nail a couple of model threes with my next seven shots, then click on empty. Damnit, I swore as I shoved my gun away. Was my Bullcat loaded yet? Would it be enough to stop the model sixes almost on us? Grasshopper was doing well but... My hand reached down and wrapped around the hilt by my hip. Screw it, I was going to kill everything and it was going to be nasty. I slid my sword out of its sheath with a whisper of steel on steel, then charged towards the massive xenos running towards us. A swarm of B.E.E.S zipped around me, then latched onto the aliens turning to track me. Fuck... you! I shouted as I swung. I didnt know how to use a sword. There was all this shit about edges and proper form and all that. But I was cheating already, so I didnt see why any of that would matter. My sword made a loud snapping noise, like a piece of glass cracking, and the blade sprang to life, hissing and spitting as it tugged at the air around it. With a single large swing I took off the nearest model sixs forelimb. Then I grabbed the hilt with both hands, brought it up, and swung down even as I stopped my forward momentum by planting a boot down firm on the asphalt. The model six slipped down the middle, its insides slurping into the hungry sword even as its forward momentum continued to carry its remains past me. I shook my head to clear out some of the blood splatter on my visor, then I turned with another swing into the side of the next model six. Smaller aliens leapt at me from the side, so I met them in mid-air blade first. For the next dozen seconds, seconds which felt like entire minutes, I swung around me as though I had the worlds most dangerous baseball bat. Smacking and slicing through anything that got within a few metres of me. Then it was over. That, Grasshopper said. She was covered in antithesis remains, but looked uninjured otherwise. Is a very cool sword. I nodded, breath coming in too heavy for me to trust my voice. I looked around, but all I saw were heaps of aliens and chopped up bodies. Out ahead, the road continued on, the exit just a couple of hundred metres down. *** Chapter Thirty-Three - Long Road Ahead Chapter Thirty-Three - Long Road Ahead Chapter Thirty-Three - Long Road Ahead There have been proposals over the years for a comprehensive defensive strategy. Something that would keep Earth entirely secure, no matter the size or scope of an invasion. The issue is always the same though; who would foot the bill? --Quote from, Ongoing Threat, 2051 *** I kicked a model threes corpse in the head, and with the added boost from my armour, sent it flopping back to the edge of the road. Think well have to deal with more of them? I asked. The convoy was rolling on behind us, surprisingly quiet, actually. Maybe, Grasshopper said. But theres always more xenos out there. Even in this forest... I dont envy those who will eventually clear it out. I winced. Yeah, someone would have to go tree-by-tree, checking every inch of the place for any missing chunks of antithesis stuff, just on the off chance the fuckers rooted themselves down and started a fresh hive here. Were going to need to do that everywhere, arent we? I asked. If the incursion was world-wide, then even after clearing all the current hives, wed have to canvas the entire damned planet. Seems like it, yes, Grasshopper said. I dont know what that will mean for the future, but maybe it will be for the best. Well have a chance to root out every last foothold they have on our world. Yeah, I said. I wasnt quite as optimistic as she was. I kept an eye out on the trees and brush around us, but nothing showed up to try and eat our faces. Even as we reached the very end of the forest, I could feel my heart thundering away as I fully expected something to jump out at me. It never happened though. Want to pick a side, or should we both stand on the same one? Grasshopper asked. Huh? Oh, of the convoy? Uh, splitting up is probably safer, I said. Grasshopper nodded, then moved to the side. See you in twelve minutes, she said. I snorted and found a spot of my own on the edge of the road. We both stopped just a few metres from the edge of the woods where the trees grew a little more sparse. I raised my gun to my shoulder, but left it pointing at the ground. That was something, I said. It was a good experience, I think. I guess, I said. Hard to say how often Im going to have to do something like this. Doing a lot of new things lately. A Vanguards life is rarely stagnant. She shook her head. I dont mind. Though I have to admit Im not too comfortable with close physical contact. Oh, I said. Uh, we can buy some blankets or something, if you want? She giggled. No, its fine. Uncomfortable doesnt mean allergic to. Right. My bike spun around and came to a gentle landing right next to me, so I hopped onto it, then scooted forwards so that Grasshopper could get on. She did, though I immediately realized that she was going to make flying awkward. Her gear had to weigh a lot, despite being all spindly and weird. I moved just a bit faster than the convoy, mostly so that Grasshopper wouldnt be nervous, and because it gave us a good opportunity to see what kind of shape the convoy was in from above. We did pretty well there, Grasshopper said. Yeah, I think so, I replied. Any obstacles between here and the city? I started to lower us down with a press of a pedal, then winced when the bikes autopilot kicked on and stopped me from dropping too fast. Hopefully Grasshopper didnt notice that, or shed get to point out that her accident statistics were spot-on. Only the strange boredom. The what? My hover bikes legs deployed as I landed us on the roof of the mobile base with a solid thump. I wondered what the guys inside the base were thinking about all of this. Probably some pretty horrific shit if they saw us wiping out a wave right in front of them. Grasshopper climbed off my bike, then stretched as though it had taken us an hour to get there. The strange boredom, where theres nothing to do, but plenty to look out for. We should be in light orange to green from here until the outskirts, but we still need to be on the lookout for trouble. I nodded along, then moved to the front of the base. I sat myself down next to an antenna thing and just let my legs dangle off the front. No reason to be bored and uncomfortable, I said. Grasshopper hummed in agreement as she moved over to that huge gun shed been using earlier. I suppose not. She laid herself down behind it and pressed one of the big eyes of her helmet right up against the scope. Nothing but clear skies ahead. She was right. The mobile base and the entire convoy moved on towards New Montreal with barely a hitch. We had to squeeze past a few cars that had been abandoned on the road, but Grasshopper was able to connect to the cars systems, boot them up, and drive them into the ditch. Turns out theyd just stopped working because the local internet network glitched out. A little ways closer to the city, and I could see why. A small town was on fire. Or had been, at least. It was one of those stop-over places. Just a few hundred homes and a big four-way intersection with one of each fast-food chain and some gas stations. Smoke still rose out of the shell of homes, and one of the stations was covered in whitish fire suppressant foam, likely dropped on it from above. Not one person was out and about, and some of the homes we passed had boarded up windows and doors. Freshly done, if I were to guess. Didnt know if that would even slow looters down. If I was looking to loot someones place, Id go for the homes with lots of security. They probably had more shit worth the trouble. And then, maybe an hour after we left the very edge of the forest, the convoy was rolling into New Montreal, or at least the suburbs. Cranes were lifting up massive slabs of cement, and I noticed entire rows of buildings being torn down. Thousands of folk in bright hardhats and vests were crawling around the city, like maddened ants, and the proof of their labour was impossible to miss. A wall was going up around the entire city, topped with guard towers where crews were installing AA guns, and larger cannons were being mounted on swivels. It seemed like the city was preparing for a long war. *** Chapter Thirty-Four - The Next Move Chapter Thirty-Four - The Next Move Chapter Thirty-Four - The Next Move As cities grow, so do their energy requirements. If you were to use coal fire as a source of energy, for example, then a single mega-city the size of N-Three York, or the Texan Mega Slum would burn more coal in one month than the industrial revolution did in a decade. Thats why we are so dependent on more reliable and consistent sources of power, and why nuclear, both fusion and fission based, is the main source of power that many cities depend on. --Excerpt from The Nuclear Future, 2038 *** It was approaching late afternoon and I was sitting atop the newly built wall around part of New Montreal, legs dangling over the edge, helmet placed on the ground next to me, and wind whipping my hair around so hard I was considering what Lucy would think if I went short. I had a plastic container in my mechanical hand, filled with some sort of meaty paste that looked absolutely vile but tasted like how an orgasm felt, and a cheap plastic spoon in the other hand. All said and done, it was a nice spot for a break. Grasshopper pushed herself up, standing on the very edge without any concern at all. Im off, she said. Hmm? I asked. I looked up to her, then back down. The convoy wed escorted was parked down below. The trucks were being looked over and hosed down before being allowed inside the walls. No one wanted any antithesis meat to be brought into the city. You needed a critical mass of the stuff to start growing a hive, at least, thats what I understood, but still. Better safe than sorry. Where are you heading off to? I asked. I have evening lessons, Grasshopper said. I dont want to miss them. What will you be doing? Skulking about and stuff, I said. Maybe find another samurai that needs help, or check up on Lucy and the kittens. Kittens? Grasshopper asked. The orphans I look after. You should see them, theyd like you. I smiled up at her. So, youre a mommy cat. She chuckled. I might visit. That sounds very cute. But not tonight, I dont think. Goodbye, Stray Cat. See ya, Grasshopper, I said. I waved her off with my spoon hand, then scooped up another bite. She left the area a bit later, and I stayed perched up on the wall, looking over the outskirts of the city. Smoke rose in the distance. I hoped that was a good sign. No massive armies of skittering plants were visible, not yet. I almost jumped when Myalis spoke up. You have an incoming message from Laserjack. Yeah? Whats it about? I asked. I suppose. Every minute they spend arguing is another where things arent moving forwards though. Its frustrating. It took all of two minutes of flying along the length of the wall, avoiding heavy lifting vehicles and the cranes pulling up the massive slabs that became the foundations for the wall. Gomorrah was next to the Fury, arms crossed and a wafting aura of frustration coming off of her to ward off anyone who would dare test her. Hey, I said as I jumped off my bike. You ready to go? We can take my bike. Ride together. Were taking my car, she said. No negotiating there. I shrugged and went around to the other side while my bike parked itself. Gomorrah wasnt lying when she said there were plenty of people arguing with each other, though it mostly seemed to centre around one group. Laserjacks on his way to smooth things over, Gomorrah said. Huh, alright. So, the current mission, I asked as I sat down. Gomorrah started the Fury up, and we took off into the skies, heading northward, if I wasnt mistaken. A hive was spotted thanks to some seismographs next to a micro-nuclear unit fabrication plant. I raised my hand. Question. Whats a micro-nuclear plant? Gomorrah took a moment to reply. You know what a nuclear power plant is, right? Yeah. Are you going to say that its that, but small? That would be a little reductivist, but not entirely inaccurate, she said. I think someone just sat down and figured out the exact minimum amount of machinery you need to boil water with radioactive products, then build a reactor out of that. Theyre meant to be more efficient than the older, bigger reactors. You can fit a few hundred in the footprint of an old facility. Thats neat, I said. And now theres a bunch of aliens next to one of these plants? The plant makes those reactors. Its not a power plant. Though I imagine they produce their own power. The hive should be relatively small. Its taken over an old factory complex. I think it was a brick-making place, actually. How old are we talking here? I asked. Gomorrah shrugged. I didnt bother checking. The hives fully active though. I dont think well be able to land right on top of it. Just to be clear. No big bombs, but little ones are fine, right? I suppose. And no one has any problems with us using B.E.E.S. right? I have no idea what youre talking about, Gomorrah said. I grinned. Well then, youre going to love these. I wondered if Myalis would give me some B.E.E.S. that lit on fire if I paid her a little extra. Just as something to show Gomorrah how much I appreciated her. *** Chapter Thirty-Five - A Terrible Mistake Chapter Thirty-Five - A Terrible Mistake Chapter Thirty-Five - A Terrible Mistake There are two kinds of survivalists. The enthusiasts, who only wish to participate in a hobby that could well save their lives later, and the true survivalists, those who wish to abandon the shackles that society has placed around their necks. This forum is for the true survivors. --Opening Page of a Dark Web Forum, 2025 *** Gomorrah flew a wide circle around the top of the brick factory. It was pretty much what I imagined when she described the place to me. Big, made of red bricks, with a tin roof that had seen better days and three big chimneys poking out above. A large channel in the dirt ran up and through the building, and I had the impression that it was once meant to pass water through. Maybe this was one of those super old mill-like places, using hydro-electricity or something to keep working. Right now, the nearest river forked away from the factory, and the channel leading up to it was partially filled in. Plenty of stagnant water in the bottom though. I couldnt wait to smell it. The complex itself went on for a while, with a dozen smaller buildings and warehouses, even what looked like a small town filled with mobile homes nearby. Are you sure were the only ones for this job? I asked. What do you mean? No explosives kinda cuts me off at the knees, and this place looks like its going to be nothing but close-quarters fighting. Its not exactly my forte. There were a few other hives spotted, but this one seemed like the easiest to take on. Its still small. The others have started spawning antithesis past the single-digits already. The Familys planning on hitting most of them from orbit later. Oh, shit, I said. It was basically going to be raining god-rods in a few hours then. Not this one? Not this one, and not any that are in very sensitive areas, Gomorrah said. They needed someone a little more delicate to take care of this hive in particular. I nodded. And you instantly thought of me when the word delicate crossed your mind. Makes perfect sense. Gomorrah chuckled. Yes, that is a word I would use while describing you. Id perhaps add in before it, but thats up for debate. She gestured out ahead. Im going to land on that rooftop there. The flat one. The Fury can hover while we jump out. Got it, I said. We flew lower, the Fury surprisingly quiet as we coasted to a gentle stop atop one of the smaller buildings next to the main factory. I guessed that it was some sort of admin building, next to the parking lot. I opened the door, glanced down to make sure Gomorrah didnt want me to drop too far, then shifted out to the side. The roof clanged as I landed, then it rattled even louder as Gomorrah touched down next to me. She reached around and adjusted the pack of her heavy flamethrower. Is the area clear? she asked. Dead, I said. Right up next to the factory. Its in the shadows, next to this little entrance spot thats sticking out. The entrance was a boxy protrusion on the side of the factory, with a peaked tin roof and a few windows that I couldnt quite see into. Cant see what killed it. Want to wait here? Certainly. Leave the door entirely open, in case I need to join you. I nodded, then slid the door open. It creaked a bit, and the brick I jammed in place to keep it open wasnt exactly quiet either. After listening in for a momentthe only sounds I could hear were the faint pitter-patter of a very weak drizzle of rain and the creak of an old building movingI ran out and across the parking lot of the factory. I kept my eyes on a swivel until I slowed to a stop next to the model three. The thing was very dead, its face blasted right off so that all that remained were fleshy giblets hanging on with sinew and skin. Looks like someone shot our alien pal here, I said over the coms to Gomorrah. Can you date it? Uh. I touched the body. Do model threes give off much heat? This thing is room temp. While most Antithesis will give off some heat, it is usually much cooler than the average Earthly mammal. More comparable to the temperature seen in cold-blooded creatures. Exceptions exist, of course. Models bred to resist colder climates will actually be significantly warmer. That was good to know. Im going into the lobby, I said. Careful, Gomorrah warned. I imagine whomever shot the model three might still be around. I nodded, even if Gomorrah couldnt see, and moved over to the doorway into the factory. Turns out, her warning was warranted. Oh hey, a booby trap, I said. What sort? Gomorrah asked. Remember, no explosives. Not even if theyre not yours. Not a bomb. This is a bit more low-tech than that. Above the door was a long piece of string, wedged between the doorway and the doorframe. Peeking through the glass on the door, I could make out the string going above, and holding onto a trio of tin cans with holes punched into them for the cord. If my guess was right... I reached up, grabbed hold of the string, then carefully opened the door. The string loosened, and would have fallen if I wasnt holding it. Once the door was open a crack, I checked around for more traps, and finding none, slid inside, still holding onto the cord. I gently, gently gave it more slack until the strung-together cans touched the floor. Looks like someone rigged some cans to clatter around if you opened the door, I said. Interesting, Gomorrah said. Im running over to your position now. I watched as Gomorrah darted across to where I was. She was only halfway over when someone opened fire on her. *** Chapter Thirty-Six - The Survivalists Who Probably Wont Chapter Thirty-Six - The Survivalists Who Probably Won''t Chapter Thirty-Six - The Survivalists Who Probably Won''t Life in a mega-city isnt for everyone. Theres a constant hustle and bustle, millions of people crowding in around you, and you never know which one of them might want to harm you. If youre looking for a retreat to a better life, then check out Comtown-dot-com! Your one stop-shop to find the company town thats right for ad, 2047 *** I swore, or at least screamed something that might have been a swear. I wasnt entirely coherent for a moment as I heard the rattle of gunfire and saw the asphalt around Gomorrah spark and crack with missed shots. She stumbled, and I froze, expecting her to fall. Then Gomorrah raised her flamethrower up above and ahead of her and pulled the trigger. A massive burst of fire, spread wide like a flaming umbrella, burned the air above her and created a barrier between her and whomever was shooting down at her. She ran faster, and I jumped to open the door. The fire stopped, but not before licking at the roof of the entrance. Shit, shit, are you okay? I asked. Myalis, I need shit for bullet wounds. Fuck, okay, sit down, sit down here, and itll be okay, we can fix this. I pulled her to the side and started fretting over her, looking for the blood, for the wounds. I could fix this, just shove the wound full of magic healing goop. Shed be fine. Cat. Oh, fuck, fuck. Okay, which one hurts more? Shit, we need to-- Gomorrah poked me in the belly, then looked up to me with her expressionless mask. Catherine. I paused, breathing still a bit ragged. Yeah? My equipments bulletproof. All of it. I wouldnt go out to fight without decent armour on. Not like some people. Oh, I said. That explained the lack of holes in her gear. Though I did notice a few wrinkles in her habit, and some bronze smears on the metal bits of her pauldrons. Was that where she was struck? Okay. I appreciate the concern though, she said. But you can let go of me now. I let go of her, then grabbed my gun from where Id dropped it next to the entrance. I couldnt remember letting it go, but everything had happened so quickly that I wasnt too surprised that Id dropped it. So, that wasnt an alien, I said. Not unless theyve started carrying fully automatic guns, no, Gomorrah said. That came from the right side of the factory, on the second floor, I think. I just saw a flash before I started to burn the air. That was clever, I said. The fire, I mean. Gomorrah chuckled darkly. I thought of the move as something of a deterrent against model ones. I suppose it works well enough against people shooting at me. You mean a bunch of hippies hid in here? Something like that. Could be a cult too. Stuck far away from the city, cut off from the rest of the world. They might not even be aware that theres a mass incursion occurring. Fuck, I muttered. I glanced around, but other than a few posters for some bands and brands in one of the partitions that had a little living space, I couldnt see anything overtly religious around. One partition had a cross, but the one next to it had a star of David. I didnt think we were dealing with a cult of that sort. I reached the catwalks first, then hesitated. Above or below? I asked. We could split up, Gomorrah said. Id rather not, I replied. Alright, Im going to summon up a mecha cat. We might need one later anyway if well be hitting a hive. It can keep an eye on the lower floor while we go above. Gomorrah nodded, then slipped to the side where she could stand behind a cement pillar that was chipped away on the edges. Just the usual sort of mechanised cat drone? I nodded. Something quiet and fast-firing, yeah. Noted. New Purchase: Stealth and Reconnaissance M.E.O.W New Point total: 19,674 You really worked hard on that acronym, didnt you? I asked. It stands for Mechanised Environmental Obliteration Weapon. A box appeared next to me with the barest click as it touched down. The top slid to the side, and an all-black panther-like mecha cat jumped out of it. It was a bit smaller than the usual cat drone, with proportionally bigger paws, and with some slits on its back where I imagined its guns were tucked away for the moment. Right, let it scan around, Im heading up. I took the catwalk two steps at a time. My boots didnt make any noise on hitting the steps, but the entire thing shifted with my weight, and there was no hiding the creak of rusty metal and the occasional clink. On racing to the top, I shuffled closer to the only doorway up there and pressed myself close to it. Now that I was closer, my bullshit alien-tech ears could pick out sounds from within. People breathing, a kid trying hard not to be heard while crying, metal things shifting around. There had to be a dozen people in that room. W-we know youre there, someone said. Come on out, and we wont blast you! Well, so much for stealth. *** Chapter Thirty-Seven - Trigger Happy Chapter Thirty-Seven - Trigger Happy Chapter Thirty-Seven - Trigger Happy Manufacturing trends started to shift after the first incursion. Domestic production returned as international supply-lines were cut, and it suddenly became cheaper once more to build everything a local economy needed next to that local economy, rather than on the literal other side of the planet. --Excerpt from Economy of Scale - Wartime Manufacturing, 2034 *** I wasnt sure what to do for a moment. On the one hand, some guy was talking to me. That meant that unless the antithesis had learned speech and how to use guns, then I was probably just dealing with a nutjob or three. I could hear kids back there as well. On the other hand... someone did shoot Gomorrah, and I was a little bit miffed about it. Shooting things had thus far proven to be an excellent way to work out my anger. I didnt quite hear what he said. Gomorrah shifted lower on the catwalk steps. Can you hear him properly? Yeah, I said. He wants us to-- Come on out! With your hands up! the guy screamed. He was closer to the door this time. He wants us to do that, I said. Gomorrah sniffed. Ill admit Im a little... whats the word... salty, that I was shot. Im tempted to burst in and spray everything down. Bit rude, no? I asked. I know youre out there! our pal called out. I sighed, then flicked my comms off so that when I spoke he could hear me. Then why dont you come out and say hi, huh, asshole? Its not aliens, someone muttered on the other side of the door. I rolled my eyes. This was just stupid. Moving up to the door, I reached up, turned the handle, then threw the door open while standing well to the side. A roaring blast blew through the opening, and some buckshot ripped apart the edge of the doorway, sending a spray of wood flying down into the factorys main floor. Nice shot, I said, entirely aware of the hypocrisy. I heard someone shifting, and I could make out three figures behind a desk, two of them had shotguns. They both started reloading at the same time. I bounced to the side, slipped through the entrance, then ran and leapt over the table before they could figure that anything was amiss. Being invisible probably helped to confuse them. I grabbed the two men who had guns by their shirts, then yanked them back and onto the floor with hard thumps. Standing, I spun and brought my Bullcat up and pointed its barrel between the eyes of the third guy. The moment held for a bit, one of the guys on the ground started to shift back to his feet, but I pushed him back down with a boot on his chest. Lets not, I said. Once I was sure I wasnt about to be shot, I flicked off my invisibility. The guy behind me shifted towards his gun. I lit the tip of my tail on fire and shifted it around so that the sparking, burning head was between his hand and the stock of his gun. Were not a cult, Charles said. Thats what people in cults say, I pointed out. He shook his head. Were just office workers, factory workers. People who were tired of the rat-race. We all live here. Its peaceful, its quiet, its less cut-throat than living in the city. Simpler. We garden for some of our food, buy the rest. Lots of us work online. Cool, I said. Aliens, where? Charles gestured to the side. Weve seen a few of the smaller ones coming from that way. The far end of the factory, there was a large generator complex, with a big basement. It connects to most of the other buildings. So, a tight series of corridors, dug under the earth? I asked. Essentially? he replied, turning it into a question. Gomorrah shifted from side to side. That does sound like the kind of place the antithesis would enjoy. Is there access to it from around here? Theres an entrance below, yes, Charles said. We used to use it for storage, its rather cool, but its also very humid, and in spring it floods a little. We even had to run some pumps to keep it dry a few times when the river runs higher. Ah, a wet dark tunnel, I imagine with no lighting, dug into the ground and covered in... Im guessing cement? I asked. I suppose. Cool, so its like a free bunker for the aliens. Are you sure I cant use explosives on this one? I asked Gomorrah. Very, she said. Besides, you might cave the entire facility in. Seeing as how its humid though, using fire wont pose too much of a risk. Atyacus can check to see if theres any natural gases in the area that are flammable. You get to have all the fun today, I complained. She sniffed. You got to drop that large bomb yesterday. I think this is only fair. I nodded. Alright, Paul, you seem like the most expendable one here. Guide us down to that entrance. Well see if there really is a hive down there. The rest of you should really consider voting on leaving again. Its a long way to New Montreal, but its safer there than it is here. We cant just leave, Charles said. I shrugged. I can talk to the Family. At least get the kids to someplace thats safer than here. The rest of you are all adults, if you want to last-stand against the aliens in here, then thats on you. Hope you have a lot of ammo though, because Ive already seen and fought swarms of aliens hundreds strong, and its only going to get worse. Charles rubbed his eyes. Ill talk to the others, thank you. And... I apologise for shooting at you. Gomorrah nodded. Youre forgiven. Thank you for apologising. I pointed my thumb back out the door. Okay, were off. Well stop by after, hear what you guys choose to do. Hopefully its not something real stupid. Come on, Paul. Paul didnt seem happy to be our guide, but he tramped down the catwalk after picking up his gun all the same. Now to find that hive and burn it up. Maybe I could use a small bomb? Just a little one? *** Chapter Thirty-Eight - Basement Chapter Thirty-Eight - Basement Chapter Thirty-Eight - Basement Theres a whole new category of entertainment called simply Samurai Entertainment. Sometimes its shortened to SE, or See, as in the verb to see. The genre mostly consists of following samurai the way that paparazzi of the past followed celebrities. The big difference is that most samurai dont care for the attention, and most celebrities don''t saunter onto battlefields on the regular. --Modern Stream Entertainment, Genre Guide, 2031 *** Paul clambered down the stairs with all of the attitude and ill mood of a five year old who had just been told off. If I wasnt such a bastion of moral integrity and good spirit, I would have mocked him for it. Wait... Who shat in your shorts, Pauly boy? I asked as I followed him down the steps. He paused so that he could level a glare at me. I dont like you, he said. Well shit, there goes my mood for the next week, I said. Cat, maybe less quipping and more walking would be in order? Gomorrah asked. I shook my head. Sarcasm and snark are the only things I had for a long time, you know? When you dont own anything, you cling onto whatever you have, I explained. Yes, but youre a samurai now. You can hardly be said to have nothing. You have your equipment, plenty of resources, a girlfriend. Even a home, she said. Perhaps you can finally do away with the snark? Huh, I said. Does having a home make me a part of the bourgeois? You dont actually know what that is, do you? Gomorrah asked. I dont, but something deep inside me still makes me want to blame them for all of my woes. Paul tsked. Youre exactly the kind of thing we left the city to avoid, he said. Did he just literally objectify me? Just get us to the basement so that we can do our jobs, I snapped. And then what? Youll leave us all alone? he asked. Yeah, thats the idea. We have other hives to break, and other people to save. I still think youd be clever to move back to the city. Theres more of us bougie-types to keep you nice and safe. If you want to use that boomstick of yours, Im sure theres some militia out there thats desperate enough that theyll hire even you. Fuck off, I want to defend me and mine right here. This is my home. I worked hard for it. Did you ever work hard for anything in your life? he growled. We started down the tunnel until we came to an intersection. Paul had failed to mention that the basement was basically a rats nest of narrow passages. I had expected it to be more like... a few rooms connected together by some corridors. But it seemed as though the basement was more of an accessway for machines and stuff that wasnt around anymore. A little ways in we arrived at a large room. There were old crates up against the wall and a loading area at the far end. I glanced around and dismissed all of that in favour of staring into the floor. We had to go down a couple of steps to get to the ground, steps which disappeared under a layer of black, motionless water. Bet it smells wonderful down here, I muttered. Movement, Gomorrah said. I snapped my head up and looked. I couldnt see anything at first, not until I noticed the ripples in the water. They came from a stack of crates in the middle of the room. Old wooden boxes with mould growing up their sides. And right there on top of them was what looked like a pile of rags. Thats a model nine, I said. I could see its little beady eyes between two folds. The little shit was waiting for us. It is, Gomorrah said. This isnt a stealth mission though. She raised her flamethrower, and I winced back as a jet of high-pressure liquid fire roared out of the gun and onto the model nine and the crates beneath. The rotting old wood might have been damp, but that didnt save it from Gomorrahs wrath. The entire room, as big as it was, turned into an oven in the time it took to blink. The water on the surface bubbled and hissed, steam rose into the air, pulled into the gushing flames, then disappeared with a squeal. The crate and the alien on it didnt exist three seconds after Gomorrah opened up on them. She pulled her finger off the trigger, and a single burning corner of the wooden box--still on fire--flopped into the water with a hissing splash. Do you see any others? she asked. Are you going to do that to all of them? I asked. Next time I got a suit, I was getting one with better temperature controls. It was beyond uncomfortable in here. Might as well dry off the floor while youre here. Gomorrah took that suggestion to heart, and soon the flamethrower was being swept left-to-right across the floor. The water in the room rushed back from the flames but whenever Gomorrah moved the water would pour right back into the void. The air was filled with a foggy steam by the time Gomorrah gave up. I think the entire basement is filled, she said. I might run out of fuel before it runs out of water. Then well be getting our ankles wet, I said. Well live. Though Im worried that the antithesis will have invented some sort of ankle-biting fish-thing just to fuck with me. Arent cats supposed to like fish? Gomorrah asked. Now whos being snarky, I muttered. We started splashing our way across the room, on the lookout for the next alien to burn. *** Chapter Thirty-Nine - Interrupt Chapter Thirty-Nine - Interrupt Chapter Thirty-Nine - Interrupt "We are the Sisters of the Holy Extermination. Our creed and duty is to remove that which is impure from the cities in which we live. Foul xenos, rats, insects, and squatters, all will be judged by fire. It is the only way to be certain. -The Sisters of Holy Extermination Manifesto, 2045 *** This way, Gomorrah muttered as she started down another tunnel. This, at least, was a bit wider than the last. The water sloshing by our feet made it hard to move forwards, but we were pushing through it. I was just glad that my boots were waterproof, otherwise the trek was going to get real unpleasant real fast. The worse thing was that my armour let me feel just how lukewarm the water was, which was just... super unpleasant. As we started down the tunnel, the water grew cooler, and it was clear that it was flowing back into the big room wed come from. Had Gomorrah burned that much water out? Can you hear anything? Gomorrah asked. Hmm? Oh, let me listen, I said. I focused on my hearing for a bit, then snapped my fingers a few times. It created something like an echo, and I could see ahead of us for a little ways, though the water was making it weird. Uh, right up ahead, then left. No beasties that I can see. We came onto a corner that turned right, and then it immediately turned right again. Okay, so right-right, not right-left, I muttered. Maybe I shouldnt have bothered asking, Gomorrah said. She raised her flamethrower, the pilot light at the very tip of it providing most of the light we had, that and my glowing shotgun. I rolled my eyes, but continued to listen ahead. Wait, I muttered. Gomorrah and I both stopped, the water around us wavered and bobbed. Still, I could hear something ahead. Sloshing and the tip-tap of something clicking against tin. What is it? Gomorrah whispered. Aliens, I think, I said. Theres a room ahead, right? I think our friends are waiting for us. Alright. Do we move in, or do we toss them a surprise? What are you thinking? I asked. Gomorrah gestured ahead with a little thrust of her flamethrower. You toss in something to flush them out. I burn any that come this way. Then we sweep the room. I thought for a second. Resonators would act weird with the water. Anything explosive was out. Nano-stuff might have trouble with the water too... I grinned. I have just the thing. Stepping up next to Gomorrah, shut off our comms to speak with Myalis. Need some B.E.E.S.. Can you make any that are on fire? You okay? Gomorrah asked. Yeah, Im fine, I said. My heart was trying to beat out of my throat, but Id live. I accepted Gomorrahs hand to get me back onto my feet. Damned thing caught me off-guard. We should have done a better job of scouting the room, Gomorrah said. Imagine if we destroyed the hive and that one remained. It might be enough to start a whole new hive. I felt myself blanching. Damn. Were going to need to go over the area with a comb. I dont know if we have the time for that. I really hope those idiots upstairs are packing their shit then, I said. Or if not, then I hope theyre a lot braver than they look. Maybe they can clear the area out themselves. Until the next wave sweeps by, Gomorrah said. We didnt speak on it anymore. I brushed off some of the gunk from my jacket, which fortunately was made of something slick enough that crap didnt stick to it, and then we continued on at a slower, more deliberate pace. I jumped when an alert popped up before me, and judging by the way Gomorrah froze, she got the same thing too. Theres an urgent, high-priority message from the Family to all vanguard in the New Montreal area. What is it? I asked. I wasnt too worried. The aliens hadnt gathered enough momentum to hit the city itself yet. Wave incoming. The Family suspects that the risk-level of the next wave will be high enough that they want to recall all vanguard outside of the city. What? Gomorrah muttered. You got the same message? I asked. Laserjack wants us to head back, she said. Hes making it sound urgent. Myalis, can you show me the message itself? The message, as it turned out, was a short video. Laserjack, obviously standing on one of those bunkers atop the newly built wall, talking into some sort of camera. Pardon the intrusion, everyone, but we have a situation developing and we need assistance for it right now. The xenos have caught us with our guard down. We have a medium-large wave, maybe sixty-thousand models, moving in towards the north-eastern end of the city. The walls there arent completed, and wont be for another twelve to sixteen hours. We dont have the defences in place to keep the wave at bay. We need you. The message ended, but there was a lot of information attached to it. Movement plots, predicted numbers, satellite images. The works. What do we do? I asked. We go, Gomorrah said. She turned and started heading back. I stared at her, then the darkness beyond, entirely uncertain about what to do next. *** Chapter Forty - Oncoming Chapter Forty - Oncoming Chapter Forty - Oncoming The battle is only lost when there are no more humans left to save. That is when we can finally allow ourselves to despair. They might come in their thousands or millions, but as long as we are here to meet them, then there is hope. Today, there is no hope. Despair for all these aliens. Hell. And may none of them escape satisfied! -Major General Dimitri Strugatsky, moments before detonating a fail-safe nuclear device near the city of Mogocha, 2050 *** I hated it when I had to make hard choices without the time to think them through, or any ways to weasel my way out of the problem in the first place. Were not leaving until we warn the idiots upstairs, I said. Gomorrah paused and half-turned to face me. What? "Look, weve barely dented this hive. The least we can do is warn the people living here that the hive is still active and that were leaving. They think that theyre relatively safe, you know? Itll take more time than we have, Gomorrah said. Laserjacks request sounded urgent. I dont care, I decided. I wasnt going to run off and leave these people without at least a warning. I stared at Gomorrah, and her emotionless mask stared back. Fine, she said. Were losing more time arguing. Im going to park the Fury out front. Once were out of this damnable basement you can warn them all you want. Thank you, I said. We walked our way back out of the basement, retracing our steps as we went. Neither of us seemed patient enough to walk with the same care as we used to enter the basement, so we made good time on our way out. This time I took the lead, sloshing through the water with frustrated energy. The faster we made it out, the faster we could warn folks, and the less Gomorrah would be irate. And wed get back to the city faster too. Once back in the dryer section of the basement I jogged over to the door and pushed it open. I wasnt expecting to find Charles and Paul and a few others all grouped up in the factorys main living space, but there they were. One of them was even lounging on the couch. Hey! I said. They jumped. Not hearing my footfalls I could forgive, but the big iron door? That thing squealed when it opened. Charles jogged over, and it seemed that he was something of a spokesman. We voted again, he said. So, youre getting ready to pack up? I asked. That''s good, because Ive got bad news and worse news, and you dont get to pick the order. You alright? she asked. Stressed, I think, I admitted. What does stress feel like, anyway? I think it varies from person to person, she said. I just feel nervous, I suppose. Franny complains about a pain in her chest, though shes not stressed often. I hummed, then put it out of my mind for now. If it got bad, I could get something for it. What are you buying? Gomorrah asked. What? Gear, she said. Youve been out all day. You must have a few points to spend. If were going to be facing off against a large horde, then nows the time to start looking into whatever gear you need. Oh, yeah, I said. That made sense. I dont know what I need though. My current set-up is working just fine, you know? Then get better prosthetics, better augs, and better armour, Gomorrah said. Theyll pay themselves off quickly enough. I shrugged. It wasnt a terrible idea. What are you getting? A jetpack. I blinked. Youre getting a jetpack? I asked. Yes. They let you fly. I know what a jetpack does. Thats... okay, thats kind of awesome, honestly. I imagined myself with a jetpack. I then imagined myself with a jetpack giving Lucy a princess carry. Yeah, I was getting one of those. Maybe not right now though. I didnt see how it would be helpful with the current wave. Gomorrah really put the pedal down, accelerating us until the pressure was uncomfortable, even with the comfortable seats the Fury had. Wed be on top of the city in a few minutes. Already, I could see smoke on the horizon, pooling under the overcast sky. A lot of stuff was burning. Out of curiosity, I checked the Familys map, then just stared at it for a while. When had it turned so red? There were huge blurs of red across the countryside, and anything that wasnt red was yellow fading into orange. We had a few hours until the sun set. When it rose, would everything be crimson? I sent a text to Lucy, just to be able to interact with her a little. She replied immediately, and so for a moment I ignored the world and all the shit about to go down and focused on trying to make my girl laugh by being an idiot. It was better than thinking. *** Chapter Forty-One - Rapid Return Chapter Forty-One - Rapid Return Chapter Forty-One - Rapid Return Were not so different from the Antithesis, in some ways. Back either of us into a corner, and thats where youll see us fighting the hardest. --Nomad, 2056 *** Gomorrah flew the Fury over the gap. I didnt know what else to call the long stretch of space where the wall just stopped. Cranes were set up on either edge, and there were huge cement slabs ready to be pulled up onto the foundation that was even now being poured, but there was no missing the fact that a three-kilometre stretch of the city was entirely unprotected. It wasnt an empty spot either. Suburbs were set up on what was going to be the outside of the wall. A satellite city sat on the southernmost part of the gap. It looked like the wall was going to bulge out a little to accommodate it. Atyacus, did Laserjack give us a spot where wed be needed? Gomorrah asked. The Family has suggested some locations which require reinforcements, a smooth, rather posh-sounding voice said. The entire stretch of space without a wall needs to be defended. Anywhere along or around that area could use Vanguard-tier reinforcements. I glanced out the window and noticed that several armoured vehicles were forming a barricade just outside the area where the wall would be. More vehicles were moving into the space behind the wall. Mobile bases, semi-trailers with mobile offices on their backs, and a whole heap of supply vehicles. Looks like every other PMC in the city is coming over, I said. This location is the most likely to lead to the Antithesis breaching the city, Atyacus said. I nodded. Makes sense. Get everyone over the spot thats weakest. The plants will definitely be pushing that spot hardest. Least resistance, and all that. Indeed, the AI said. I''m going to station myself a bit out in the open, Gomorrah said. Isnt your range pretty short? I asked. Yes, but I expect that there will be enough of them that it wont matter, Gomorrah said. Besides, I do best when I have a lot of space with no one friendly inside it. I considered that for a moment. Not so much Gomorrahs fighting style as my own. How did I fit into all of this? Can you drop me out at the far end of that city? I asked, pointing to the suburban sprawl. Lots of apartment buildings, and a few dozen condo-enclaves. My gimmicks not going to be useful in the open, not if theres going to be thousands of the fuckers. Im going to head in towards the walls, leave a few hundred traps behind. We dont have a lot of time for traps, Gomorrah said.Th.e? most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m I shrugged. I can run pretty fast. Maybe Ill get a jetpack of my own? Gomorrah chuckled. Go ahead. I wont need to taxi you around quite as much. New Purchase: Stylized Servitor - CAT Mech Points Reduced from... 20,514 to... 20,364! A box appeared, and then immediately opened up as a cat mech jumped out of it. It was smaller than the mechs I had for fighting, with a whole set of thin mechanical arms sticking out of its back. It used those to quickly pick up my boots, then it folded my coat with its forepaws and grabbed it in its jaws. The cat looked up at me with glowing cat eyes before slinking away. Right, what else, I muttered. Catherine, the wave is incoming. You have under one minute before the forward-most section is upon you. I swore, then looked up at the nearest building. How much fuel does the pack have? Each container should last you long enough for half a minute of flight. They can be replaced automatically, same as the ammunition in your current gun. The tanks cost ten points each. That would probably add up. Okay... uh, how do I fly? I think it would be safest if I flew for now. Keep your legs together, please. I tensed up a half-second before I took off into the air. The worst part was the lack of sound. Except for my screaming, of course, but that didnt escape my helmet. At least, I hoped it didnt. Myalis landed me on the edge of a flat rooftop, and I paused there for a moment while my heart considered whether or not it would leap out of my chest. Okay, I said. That was all I could think to say. A rumble to my right had me looking that way. The dust cloud was getting closer, much closer. My augs drew a square at the base of the cloud and a small screen opened up with a zoomed-in view of that square. Model threes. Packed in so tight they were bouncing off each others shoulders. More behind them, and through the faint dust, I could make out bigger models. There had to be thousands. How were they kicking up dust when it had to have rained in the last day or so? Fuck me, I muttered. Any path in particular you wish to take? That many would be hard to kill. Impossible, even. Not by me alone, at least. Unless... Okay, I said. Im going to need a few cat mechas, and... some sort of bomb that will create a barrier. I want walls to cut off their path. Funnel them in a little. Maybe those expanding foam things? With resonators? Well push the entire swarm into a few corridors, then well fuck them up from above. All I had at my disposal was an infinite armoury of exotic explosives and the high ground. It would have to do. *** Chapter Forty-Two - Earning the Tier Chapter Forty-Two - Earning the Tier Chapter Forty-Two - Earning the Tier At lower tiers, the effectiveness of a single samurai on the field is actually questionable. That might lead some to wonder; if a samurai is little better than a small battalion of trained troops, then why not replace them with just that? The answer is that while a low-tier samurai might only be that powerful, they wont be low-tiered forever. --A discussion on the value of samurai on large scale battlefronts, 2028 *** I was just planning my route, a map open in the corner of my vision, when some clever asshole decided that a large mass of bunched-together aliens would make for a great target for some artillery. Something screamed above, and I raised my head and tracked a tiny black speck through the air. Its parabolic arc ended with it smashing into the ground a good fifty metres ahead of the wave. A loud boom echoed out, while dust and smoke rose out of the impact crater as a massive column. Nice, I muttered. Myalis, can you get in touch with whomever fired that? Tell them they missed. On it. The wave was undaunted by the blast. I think most human armies would start running faster to get to cover or something, but the sea of bugs charging towards the city didnt change their breakneck pace at all. I looked at my map again. There were lots of streets to cover. Okay. Were going to push them down... Mapleway. I need... these six bigger roads blocked off, and all the alleys along them before the blockage. The city was laid out as a grid, with some concessions made for the underlying terrain. This wasnt New Montreal, built on a massive platform raised above the ground, but a more normal cityscape like they used to build before.Findd new stories at novelhall.com I couldnt funnel the entire wave. There were too many of them. But maybe I could funnel in a fraction, a good chunk of those heading in towards the city. It would concentrate them, sure, and that would be fucking awful if they ever reached the defenders covering the gap, but I didnt intend to let that happen. Funnel them into a big group, then bomb them back to whatever hell theyd crawled out of. I need mecha, I said. Six... no, eight. See these roads. I want them blocked off. Foam, maybe pepper in some resonators for if they try to climb over. I quickly drew some lines across the map. In the end, my design looked a bit like a square-stepped pyramid, with the tip pointing towards New Montreal itself. Every blocked road would be next to an alleyway or a side street that would let the wave move closer inwards. If we blocked off enough alleys and the previous side-roads, then theyd have no choice but to be pulled in. At least, if they didnt stop to sniff around. Fuck, I was treating the entire wave as if it were made of water or something, not living things. What are the chances this works? I asked Myalis. But in case it wasnt enough... Resonator. That one dropped down into the foam with a dull splat. It managed to stay afloat as the foam expanded, a tiny screaming present for the first fucks to try and claw their way over the wall. I jumped over the alley, legs bunching up so that Id clear the gap. Kinda forgot I had a jetpack for a moment. Next one, I said. The artillery fire started to grow less coordinated and precise. I could tell that some shots were flying much further out, and I winced as a shell crashed into a building that immediately exploded, fire and cement siding flying everywhere. At least some of the shrapnel would probably brain a few of the xenos. A glance over my shoulder revealed that the wave was hitting the city proper. They slipped around abandoned cars and over guard-rails. It was hard to tell the individual models apart, they were jammed so close together. Then I noticed something in the dust behind them. Wings, beating fast. A swarm of flying models swooped out of the dust. Little models, no bigger than pigeons, but also huge fuckers with wingspans like private jets. Ah, fuck, I muttered as I whipped my gun around. I didnt fire. There was still a ways between them and me, and the chances that Id do more than take out a few of the smaller ones with some stray pellets wasnt great. The wave hadnt even hit my barriers and already my plan had gone to shit. We need AA, I said. Something screamed through the air. Not a shell, something bigger and faster, accompanied by a loud buzz. A glance above and I found a squadron of prop-planes shooting forwards. The guns fixed under their wings opened fire with a mechanical humm and lines of bright-green tracers flitted through the air and into the swarm. Maybe I didnt need AA just yet. Large hovering vehicles were rising above the gap, with guns afixed to their sides. They started firing, and the air exploded with black-grey bursts of shrapnel around ahead of the flying aliens. I turned and continued running across the rooftops. This wasnt a one-person effort, I realized. There was an entire army here. For a moment, I wondered what I could do alone. But then, maybe my job was just going to be picking up the slack. I flung another pair of grenades down a maintenance passage between two buildings and then kept moving. Soon the swarm would be on me, then Id have other shit to worry about than how useful I could be. *** Chapter Forty-Three - Danger Close Chapter Forty-Three - Danger Close Chapter Forty-Three - Danger Close All locations in proximity to a samurai in action are to be considered danger close. --US Armed Forces NCO Basics manual, 2027 *** When I thought the swarm would be on me soon I meant in a few minutes. I severely underestimated the speed that a few thousand aliens could pick up when they were hungry for human. The tip of the swarm poured down the streets below me. Teeth glistened, eyes narrowed, and they started their mad search for threats. No growling, or mad howls though. The creeps were as silent as ever. So I decided to make up for their silence all on my own. Thanks, I muttered as I caught a grenade out of the air. I tugged the pin off, then underhanded it down the street. Dropping to one knee, I watched the explosive disappear in the swarm. Then it detonated. A loud whomp filled the air while a circle a couple of metres wide appeared in the swarm. Every alien in the circle was flattened to the ground, as if theyd just been stuffed into the worlds biggest hydraulic press. Body parts flipped along the edges of the effect, entirely detached from the rest of their bodies. Not bad, I muttered. The hole filled itself up a half-second later. There were just too many of the bastards for it to make a difference. Not bad, but not enough, I said. I glanced around the city. Lots of apartments, plenty of shopfronts. All fucked now. Yeah, were giving up on the no-collateral thing. We can rebuild, but only if every last one of these fucks is dead. Myalis, I need something thatll wipe the street. There are hundreds of options. Not fire, I said. Dont want to step on Gomorrahs toes. How about... hey, do you think we could melt them all? An acid? There are grenades that can spread acids around them. There are even some that will hover over the ground and mist the air with highly corrosive chemicals, some of which are tailored to melting Antithesis flesh. That wasnt what I had in mind, but it sounded really cool. Yeah, I like that idea. Gimme something to drop, I want to see how it works. Myalis summoned a box next to me. It had a container with a sloshing liquid within, and three little propellers on stalks around it. It looked a bit like a cheap toy drone. Certainly. Though while you toss those down, I should warn you that at the speed the swarm is moving, neither the resonators nor the acid will be sufficient to kill even the smaller models. Right, I muttered. What else could I do? Ideas? I asked. You essentially need weapons that can kill the antithesis in a sustained way. Turrets placed above, combined with area-denial explosives such as your garrot grenades. Though, both would eventually be overrun. Yeah, maybe, but itll blunt the edge of the swarm, and I think thats what we need right now. Push the worst of it back so that they can get on with building the wall. Nades first. Myalis dropped a box full of grenades next to me, and I kicked it open, picked up a few, then flicked them down and onto the road. My aim wasnt perfect, but I didn''t exactly need accuracy for the oncoming horde. When the garrote grenades went off, it created pockets where everything was shredded apart. The swarm pushed into them as if trying to blunt the edge of the grenades with sheer force of meat. The grenades won out, though one of them did spark and break apart as a model five charged through it. The tougher hide was able to blunt and eventually break the explosive, though not without killing the model five first. Give the cats a few of these, I said. They can toss them in, keep the area deadly. Fewer aliens were making it past, and those that did often flopped over dead a few dozen metres past the intersection. Too many cuts and acid and melting internals. Still, the wave came, and I knew there would be more big fuckers to come. I set down a few turrets, one near the middle of the roof, just to ward off any flyers, another near the roof-access doorway, for when some halfway clever alien inevitably snuck onto the roof. In the meantime, I kicked the door open and ran down myself. Just offices and break rooms and a sea of cubicles. I ran to the nearest window and started setting up more automated turrets. The cheap laser ones that could recharge themselves over time with a bit of sunlight. Cheap, weak, but dependable. I left proximity charges next to each, for the first lucky alien that came around and tried to grab a bite out of them. I glanced down onto the street and grinned. The pile of melting bodies was already hip-high in places, and it was only growing bigger as the wave pushed against itself, like meat through a strainer. This is going pretty well, I said. Which is about when the artillery started to hit my position. *** Chapter Forty-Four - Dirty Break Chapter Forty-Four - Dirty Break Chapter Forty-Four - Dirty Break Mental health services are, like healthcare, one of those things that just arent profitable for a society whose main concern is monetary. In fact, its worse than healthcare. With that, you can at least extort people for money. Someone with a gaping wound will be willing to pay much for treatment and to live. Someone hearing voices though? Someone going through a depressive period? Well, theyre just not great clients. I think thats why all of the help and assistance we had just... disappeared one day. --Jacob Washington, last member of the all-volunteer Suicide Watch group, 2023 *** Id seen buildings collapse before. I mean, on my media feeds. Happened all the time. Usually it was buildings that needed to be demolished, but every couple of weeks some mega-complex would fall apart all on its own. Shitty construction, too many cut corners, maybe the place was only designed to last thirty years and that was before you counted the years shaved off by subpar materials. So yeah Id seen plenty of buildings fall apart. Never seen it happen from the inside in first person though. Fuck fuck fuck, I swore as the floor started to tilt. Office shit went flying, desks crashed down and chairs with those little wheels at the bottom went sailing across the room. I half-turned and planted a foot onto an exterior wall. The building was tipping towards the street below. The chairs and desks crashing around me eventually lost their momentum or hooked onto something, so the din in the room stilled. The cacophony outside though, didnt. A glance out the window showed blackened marks and craters punched into the road where a liberal application of heavy ordnance had rained down. The aliens had been pushed back a bit, but then so had some of my defences. Most of the garrote grenades were destroyed and I didnt see any of my acid sprayers left. The aliens regrouped and resumed their charge, this time meeting a lot less resistance. Dammit! Myalis, can you tell whoever aimed that last volley that Im going to kick their ass? We need to reset the defences. Message sent. Right, thanks, I said. I paused as the building creaked. A building this big tilting wasnt good, but maybe whoever had built the place knew what they were doing because it seemed to be holding. Catherine! Incoming volley! Are you seri-- Explosions rained down across the street, shells rammed into some of the buildings across from us, shrapnel and glass raining down in a cascade atop the aliens below. Then I heard something punch through the ceiling. I spun and saw a hole the size of my head missing in the middle of the office. Whatever had punched that hole went off and a gout of dust poured out into the office. I was blind, dust and smoke robbing me of sight. The floor fell out from under me, and I swore as I tumbled. Everything was moving in different directions, and for a panicked moment, all I could do was be rag-dolled around. Even with my armour, the breath was blown out of me as I was thrown about. Metal screamed and glass shattered. I think the building just decided to give up and crashed down onto the street. I hit something hard and it shifted beneath me. Then all my fighting and rolling around was stopped. A pressure grabbed onto my mechanical arm and didnt let go. Everything ended in a single, final boom that rattled my head. I shifted, then sat up. There was barely enough room for that. Myalis, I want to get out of this hole. Are you certain? Its actually relatively safe. Are you kidding me? If youre going to purchase new limbs and new armour, then it makes sense to do so from a place of relative safety. Just get me out of this hole! I closed my eyes and leaned back, head clunking against the cement behind me. Sorry, I muttered. No apology is necessary. The ground shook a little, and I almost screamed, but the building held. Just artillery hitting nearby. Now, as for options to remove yourself from this location, might I suggest a short-range wormhole bomb? There are several other options, but this seems like the cheapest and most expedient. It is also relatively safe. I dont know, the words wormhole and bomb put together dont sound... safe. At all. I can guarantee its safety, if that helps. And if youre wrong? I asked. Then youll be too dead to make a complaint. I felt like that deserved a laugh, but what escaped wasnt quite that. I sniffed. Okay, okay, lets do that. New Purchase: M.I.C.E. Bomb Points Reduced to... 35,742 Mice bomb, really? Whats that one mean? I asked as a box landed on my chest. Micro-scale Intralocation Cat Extractor I paused. You really dove deep for that one, I said. The box had a cylinder in it with a switch. That was it. Not even a pin to pull, or options to toggle. I shrugged, suppressed the weird feeling from my right side at the motion, then flicked the switch. I was in mid-air. That didnt last long. I crashed down, fortunately only a couple of centimetres, and winced as cement and rebar rained down around me. I was back on the street, or above it and the building I had been on. Did that teleport me a few metres straight up? Okay, I said. It was immensely easier to breathe without the metaphorical weight of a building atop me. Unfortunately, being up here meant that I didnt have a building between me and the beasties. Ah, fuck, I muttered. *** Chapter Forty-Five - Gear On Chapter Forty-Five - Gear On Chapter Forty-Five - Gear On Deus Ex: And then they said that I couldnt just talk the talk.Findd new stories at novelhall.com Hyper Cutie Zoom Ranger Sparkle Girl Bubble-chan: Makes sense, yeah. Deus Ex: They said I had to walk the talk too. How... how do you walk a talk? Whats that even mean?! Hyper Cutie Zoom Ranger Sparkle Girl Bubble-chan: ... Oh, Deus, sweetie, no. -R/GapMoeSamukawaii, Top post of 2053 *** Myalis had landed me above the wreck of the building that toppled over. Which meant that I had appeared atop what was essentially a huge barrier blocking off an entire street. The horde couldnt pass here, not unless they were willing to climb up the wreckage. I groped for a gun, then slid my arm into my thigh holster and pulled out my Claw. I took a calming breath, then carefully planted a round in the middle of the chest of a model five which was busy scrambling over the ruined building. The wave had likely split off to run around the wreckage, but I had been busy before redirecting them this way. Now there were a lot of the fuckers waiting below to attempt their own climb over the wreckage. I spun then started to climb up the wreckage as well. The aliens didnt fail to notice me, of course. I was crawling right past a bunch of them and more had already made it to the other side and were resuming their charge towards New Montreal. I flicked up my back-mounted rails, but only one of them responded. It was enough for the moment, the railgun fired, poking a hole through the nearest model three. Myalis, need to get out of here, I said. We could replace the back section of your jetpack. You could fly out of danger. I glanced back down. The wave was shifting, more aliens heading my way as if they intended to gobble me up on the way over. Sounds good, I said. Something clunked on my back and the broken jetpack module fell. A box appeared on a flattish piece of concrete nearby and I tore it open while my railgun worked hard to keep the area around me clear. I slapped the jetpack on, then picked my Claw up again to fire a few rounds into the biggest aliens trying to catch up. The jets on my legs spurted, and the one on my back whined. Ready? Indeed. Where to? I glanced up. Got to be a spot around here thats safeish, I said. Checking... some security systems are still online. Here. The jets fired, nearly silent, and I was flung up and into the air. From above I could see the rubble of the fallen building, and some wreckage from other buildings too. The shelling hadnt been kind, and having one building ram into another created a huge fucking mess. The jets flew me sideways and then across the blockage created by the rubble. Can we have a vibrating function? I asked. ... Yes. I imagine this is for Lucy? And for myself, I added. Duly noted. Whats your budget here? That will help determine the quality of the arm. I dont believe I can get anything that will fit all of your requirements for below one hundred and forty points. Call it a thousand points? Its going to be semi-permanent, I think. At least until the next time a building falls on me. In that case... From your Sun Watcher Technologies tree, Id suggest the Lynx Nine. Its a modular design, which means it can come configured with the additions you want. A grenade launcher with an internal magazine, tactile receptors, and a vibration system with seventeen vibration modes. Its significantly more durable than your previous arm, though it is a little heavier. No more so than your own flesh and blood limb. Sounds perfect, I said. I glanced out of the room as I heard a distant boom. More artillery? We should speed this up. New Purchase: Lynx Nine Modular Arm Points Reduced to... 35,559 A box appeared on one of the wooden benches next to me. I didnt open it just yet. Armour next? Certainly. Did you like your previous suit? Yeah, it was great, still kind of is, I said. I tightened my fist, then let it open. Something similar? A slightly upgraded model, perhaps? You wont be doing as much stealth-based activities in this active warzone, I dont believe. We can get you something a little heavier. More armour, with more hardpoints. Built-in jump jets and more power. Next time artillery strikes your position, you wont notice it as much. I laughed. Sounds good. I do like my stealth though. We can switch out the servos for higher-end, quieter models, the boots can have silent-running treads, and the jump jets can be designed to be whisper-quiet. The armour panels can also have adaptive camouflage, though it wont be as good as a suit entirely designed for stealth. Get it, I said. Price isnt much of an issue. New Purchase: The Tigers Mane, Mark XXI Points Reduced to... 34,159 The armour that appeared before me wasnt too different to what I had on. It was bigger though, a least half a head taller than what I had on, and a lot bulkier. I also purchased some back-mounted guns, as you like them. Nice, I said. I pulled the release on my own armour and stepped out of it. It was time to gear up. Then, back to killing xenos. *** Chapter Forty-Six - New Plan: Kill Everything Chapter Forty-Six - New Plan: Kill Everything Chapter Forty-Six - New Plan: Kill Everything Are you worried about the incoming horde of hungry man-eating aliens invading your city? Coming to the realisation that while money is great, it doesnt mean much when theres an alien munching on your face? Then invest in Protecto-Tech today! The worlds leading provider of VIP vaults and high-end protective services! Live a life of temporary luxury in one of our hyper-fortified bases! No human experimentation, guaranteed! --Protecto-Tech, prototype ad, 2050 *** The moment I was completely out of my old armour, the entire thing closed itself back up and stepped to the side. It actually freaked me out a little. But the armour just walked itself to the rooms entrance and stood there, one back-mounted gun pointing out into the hallway beyond. Alright, I muttered. Just a safety precaution. What do you want to do with your old armour? I dont know, I admitted. Think Lucy would like it? It would need to be modified slightly to fit her proportions. Shes a few centimetres shorter and wider at the hips. It would be uncomfortable. She also lacks the augmentations or AI support to fully utilise the armour. Eh, fair enough. Can it stick around in here and defend itself? Well see about picking it up once things have calmed down a bit. Noted. I walked over to the box with my new arm. It had a single clasp on the front, which was handy because I only had one hand now. The case hissed as it opened and a bit of antiseptic smelling steam escaped the edges. The arm wasnt too dissimilar to my old one. Sleek grey metal with a few plates that were edged in glowing neon. It was a bit less bulky. Likely the lack of a missile launcher worked into it. So how do I equip this one? Just jam it onto stubby here? I wiggled my stub. More or less. You can expect something similar to having a sleeping limb awaken. I raised the arm and turned it around. There was a hole for my stump, and some sections that would reach all the way up to my collarbone and over my shoulder bone thing... what was that called? The scapula or something. You will have to remove your suit for it to make contact with your skin. Lowering the arm back into its box, I unzipped the front of my armoured suit and tugged it off my right side. I hadnt realised how chilly it was here. Then I grabbed the arm again and slid it on. There was a warm pressure over my side, and a feeling of suction, like I was getting the worlds biggest hickey. Alright, get me one of those Bullcats, and I think Im ready to go, I said. A gun appeared in the air next to me and I caught it before it had time to fall. If you dont have a current plan, then might I suggest some actions? Uh, sure? I said as I started to look for an elevator or stairwell up. The Family has an updating feed of the wave and its movements, as well as feeds from Vanguard on the front lines and from the various PMC commands. The current most urgent call for assistance is relatively close to your position. What is it? I asked. Vanguard Grasshopper has been injured and is requesting assistance. I froze. Why the fuck didnt you tell me earlier? The request is only seconds old. She is One point two kilometres north-west of your position. Your suit can fly short distances. Once youre out in the open it should be easy to make your way there. Which ways north? I asked. An arrow appeared, pointing me in the right direction, and I took off running in that direction. There was a wall in the way, of course, with a big window that opened up onto the busy city below. So I raised my new Bullcat and opened fire with full-auto into the glass. My new armour was sturdy enough that I didnt even feel any recoil. The glass felt it though. It might have been that tough sort designed to withstand some damage and prevent office suicides, but it wasnt rated for dealing with anxious Samurai. I shot out into the open air, trailing a cascade of tinkling glass. The streets below were teeming with aliens, some of whom took a moment to look up towards me. Then my jump jets kicked on and my downwards fall turned into an arc that led me up and over to the next building. Myalis, acid bombs. Lets give those fuckers down there something to think about. Actually, fuck it, lets mix it up with some normal bombs too. Certainly. And while were at it, can we unlock the next tier on my bomb catalogue? I want more fun toys to play with. New Purchase: Esoteric Single-Use Explosive Devices Tier II Points Reduced to... 32,409 Expensive, but probably worth it. And honestly, not doing much to put a dent into my current savings. Thanks, Myalis. Anything to lessen the Antithesis threat. I sprinted across the rooftop, then jumped once I got to the other side. While in the air, Myalis summoned a heap of bombs for me, which I dropped with glee atop the alien hoard. Theyd be able to track my progress with the bodies I left behind. *** Chapter Forty-Seven - Safe, Not Sound Chapter Forty-Seven - Safe, Not Sound Chapter Forty-Seven - Safe, Not Sound We are here today to lay a good person to rest. Its... its something Ive heard before. They always say that the person who died was a good person. Its usually a load of bullshit. Not today though. Sprocket Rocket was a good person. A real fucking hero. Sure, he was... he was a bit nuts, and he was a reckless kind of guy. But fuck if he wasnt spectacular. So many people owe their lives to him. I... I might too. Im sorry, big bro. Your dreams not going to die with you, alright? I promise. --Longbow, at the funeral of the samurai Sprocket Rocket, 2048 *** I ran to a stop on the edge of a rooftop. Some boring rectangle of a building, with nothing to make it stand out except an odd number of AC units on the rooftop. Behind me, on the road Id just jumped over, were a couple of hundred aliens currently enjoying some acid rain coupled with a sprinkling of more traditional explosives.Findd new stories at novelhall.com The property damage I was leaving behind was going to cost billions, I suspected. Grasshoppers tally probably wasnt going to be far behind. Looking down at the street below, I could make out entire chunks of concrete missing, some looking like theyd been punched right off the walls. Other areas had a sprinkling of bullet holes punching into the buildings, the roads, and through the corpses of dozens and dozens of antithesis. It was a charnel house down there. Aliens laying in heaps, having fallen where they ran. Not as much blood as I might have expected. Each alien that was dead had a hole poking right through their skull, usually between the eyes. I imagined that all of those holes in the walls were created after a round went through some aliens brain. Which way? I asked. Myalis reply was to create a red circle which hovered over everything off to my left. There were more bodies that way, not that the bodies would remain there forever. The antithesis were starting to poke into the road from the sides, some of them moving with a bit more caution, others running in while their skin sizzled under the effects of my acid. I tossed a pair of acid bombs up and over the road. Theyd dissolve the bodies, maybe keep some of the aliens from following. Running along the rooftops, I traced the path that Grasshopper had left. At some point she ran into an apartment building. Judging by the semi-circle of bodies piled up by the entrance, she had stayed there for a while. Some of the bodies were shoved aside on one side. I squinted, then zoomed in with my cybernetic eye. Lots of footprints in that spot. Easy to make out since theyd stepped through a puddle of antithesis blood-stuff. Was she with a group of civvies? I asked. Unknown. Its possible though. Let me verify... yes. Grasshopper received a report that a civilian safehouse was in this area and wasnt going to be able to withstand an artillery assault. Ill ask her AI to open parts of her armour. Grasshoppers armour unfolded around her face and upper chest. It jammed around the middle, where it was obvious something had struck her. I didnt waste any more time, pressing the tubes in close before backing off as the machine got to work. I need cat mechs. Give me like, six of them. Secure the area around here. Six boxes appeared and robotic cats unfolded themselves from inside them and immediately started to patrol the room, some of them moved outside and out of the range of my hearing. Thatd keep any of the smaller aliens at bay for a bit. How is she? I asked. I pulled Grasshopper back so that she was laying down flat instead of up against the wall. The arms sticking out of the back of her armour helped a little, repositioning themselves to make it easier. Shes unlikely to die at the moment, though her injuries will make combat difficult. Do you want me to call for additional assistance? I considered it for just a moment. Yeah, do so. We need to get her out of the front lines. She can recover better without having to worry about some alien popping out of nowhere to eat her. Probably somewhere a little less dirty too. Myalis brought up a scan of Grasshoppers body. It looked like all of her veins and muscles and bones, with more and more details being filled in as the nanomachines I was pumping into her travelled across her body and catalogued her injuries. It looked like one leg was broken at the shin and her knee on that same leg was fucked. There were a few ribs that werent in the right spot too. Lots of internal fuckery around her abdomen. What hit her? I asked. The model fourteen. A moment of inattention or hesitation and she was struck hard enough to be injured. Her armour fortunately took the worst of the damage. I looked around. There were a few little healing pack things on the ground that werent mine. Had she been trying to heal herself while laid out here? Shes tough, I said. Shell make it. Yeah, Grasshopper agreed. Hey! I gasped before leaning in closer. Youre awake? A little, she said. That was unpleasant. Is that you, Stray Cat? I nodded, then realized her eyes were screwed shut. Yeah, its me. Lemme get you some pain killers. Something to get you back onto your feet. Ill be peachy, she said. I like that word. Its tasty. She gasped. Cat! The people. Go check on the people. Theyre behind me. I sent them away. Had to keep them safe. Please! Her eyes opened, and she locked onto me, pleading. I nodded. Alright, I said. Myalis, turrets. I dont want anything nasty interrupting her healing. Then I ran off, because helping people was something I could do better than waiting around for a friend to get better. *** Chapter Forty-Eight - Its Never Easy Chapter Forty-Eight - It''s Never Easy Chapter Forty-Eight - It''s Never Easy And so I thought to myself... these games, their gacha mechanics and rewards, they addict our clients, the players. What if I ran a business the same way? Competitive WvW, where the W means Worker. It was genius! --Extract from the biography of Nimbletainments owner, 2039 *** Who am I looking for? I asked Myalis. The group that Grasshopper was escorting was thirty-six members strong. Im afraid that I can confirm that some of them have died. There are some cameras still active throughout the building. Fuck, I said. Knowing Grasshopper, with all of her... Grasshopper-iness, she wouldnt take that all that well. Lets find at least some of them alive. The first floor of the building was all offices and cubicles and that sort of horrific shit. I counted no less than three water coolers as I ran deeper into the building. The centre was a wide-open space sporting balconies on the floors above with glass sides, a large staircase, and in the very centre, a glass-walled elevator. It probably made the poor fucks tied to one of the cubicles feel great when they could crane their neck back and see the people a few levels above them. Right now, the steps leading up had a lot of blood on them. I swore as I ran through the lobby and skipped over some womans corpse. Was she one of Grasshoppers? I asked. She was. The group moved up. Made sense. They wanted distance. Didnt look like it worked out too well though. I counted four more bodies on the staircase. Three dead aliens too, Model threes with their faces caved in or with mangled bones. So the group were fighting back. Probably for the best. Model threes werent too hard to kill, overall. Id done it with one arm and a pipe. I crouched, then jumped up. Myalis caught on to my intentions and fired off the jets on my legs, sending me rocketing up the space around the stairs. I twisted a bit and landed unsteadily on the third floor. Another body, this one next to three dead model threes. A fourth was chewing the corpses face. The alien paused mid-chew and turned its too-many-eyed face my way. I stomped over to it and swung a boot into the side of its face. I dont know if it was the anger, the armour, or some combination of the two, but the kick smashed it hard enough that it crumpled to the side, very much dead. I moved on. Screaming up ahead had me refocusing on what was at hand. I started running down the corridors until I rounded a corner and found Grasshoppers people. They were using a couple of desks as a barricade. One was wielding an office chair like a battering ram. They were stuck in a corner office, the entrance hounded by half a dozen model threes and a model four. It felt strangely familiar. I slowed my sprint to a more careful walk, then raised up my Bullcat. I made sure there wasnt anyone behind where Id be shooting, then I flicked the gun to full auto. It was like pressing a chainsaw into a steel drum filled with loose pans. A screeching scream filled the corridor as pellets rained across the passage. The aliens were shredded in a blink, the wall behind them filled with a thousand pinpricks. The screaming from the office intensified for one brief moment, then calm settled. I walked over, then eyed the other length of corridor. I could see the skybridge from out of a window, but not the entrance onto this floor, which was past a few walls. There were some aliens running over in through passageway. I mowed them down with a quick burst, then my gun clicked empty. Reload, I said before turning to the barricade. Any injured? I asked. There was a sudden cacophony of thanks and demands. Save me! Thank you! Oh god, oh god. I pumped the Bullcat. The heavy Ker-chunk silenced everyone. I asked if there were any injuries, I repeated myself. Well tend to those, then move back downstairs. Grasshoppers down there. Shell be wanting to see you. The barricade came down in quick order. I got two more cat mechs, just to keep an eye on the group, then I handed out healing packs like they were candy. They were basically smaller, cheaper versions of the nanomachine healing suite that Id used on Grasshopper. Small enough that someone could just stick it against their own side and hold it there while it did its thing. Probably nowhere near as effective, but the worst injury I saw was a bad cut on one guy''s leg. Myalis, I need a way back down that wont pass through the same corridors, I said. There were some kids in the group. Theyd probably seen worse on TV, but... yeah. Myalis outlined a map for me, and with a nod, I started off in that direction. They followed, though some of them protested. I think the idea of not having a samurai around to keep them safe did wonders to quell the protests of those who were in that kind of mood. Our path back down was done mostly through more discreet stairwells on the edges of the building. No one complained about having to go down a couple of floors. The cat mecha Id bought watched the groups back while I took the front. On arriving at the first floor, I was greeted by one of the mechs Id left with Grasshopper. The cat nodded, then turned and strutted off in the way only a cat could. We crossed some dead aliens a bit later, which might have explained all of that. All that was left was getting back to Grasshopper, then figuring a way to get her and the civilians out of the area safely. Easy. *** AI-pocrypha - GPT-3 Written Epigraphs AI-pocrypha - GPT-3 Written Epigraphs Alright, so the following are all pre-chapter excerpts (epigraphs) created by a GPT-3 AI who was fed the entirety of Stray Cat Strut. Ive curated the selection a bit, since a lot of them were... nonsensical. Those which were nonsensical and funny remain. The rest, not so much. Ive provided some commentary in italics below the AI-generated sections. Anything not in italics on this page was written by GPT-3. Huge thank-you to Hazerdous1222, who... basically did all the work. I not only lack the time to figure this out, I also lack the brains. Hazardous is something of an AI genius. Also, to any of you who still think that writers wont be replaced by AI in the coming years... well, uh, bad news! "Hacking for Dummies is a program where some of the better-liked celebrities and great people in the world today help to teach beginner hackers so that they can spend their time ruining the lives of people across the globe." This one broke the formatting a little, it was one of the first time we tried to run the engine. Still, I thought it was pretty funny! "The last time the time standard was updated, the world was still flat and full of dragons." --The Historian, after replacing a New Time standard with a Utter Bullshit Standard'' during his tenure as head of the Bureau Of Standards in 1600 AD This one is my favourite of the entire lot. Yes, its nonsensical, but its just absurd enough to be hilarious. I too, wished that we used UBS time in our day-to-day. "Foundation Class is for those that have shown themselves worthy to improve the world in ways not just through weaponry, but through technology and science. Would-be Recruits of this Class must meet certain Tier requirements as laid out below." --from listing by Agent Ash Jameson, Isodropensia Division N 572, 2052 I can kind of see where the AI pulled this one. Still, some parts are bizarre. Isodropensia... just isnt a thing. At all. It just flat-out made a word up.Findd new stories at novelhall.com We need a lot of firepower. It''s time for an Air Strike! Extremely sorry about the puns, but this is too good to pass up!" --Anonymous International Collateral Damage Prevention Kit commercial, 2037-2038 If you cut off the third line, it might actually make for a great epigraph. It''s been three years now since the first moment when a woman could access her sexual health, and still no one knows exactly what that experience is. --Myriam on Security Experts, 2020 Another decent epigraph. I can see this one existing in-story. It doesnt speak much of the human condition, but some of the epigraphs I wrote are similarly plain. "Put bluntly, the public''s trust in governments and other entities is at an all-time low. It''s not just politicians who are losing their image with the public, it''s anyone who has a government job in any aspect." --The Vanishing Economist Really digging the name The Vanishing Economist. Also, a decent epigraph. "The easiest way to keep the peace, is to just raze everything Everything a few kilometers on every side of them. Everyone ends up as anonymous bodies in a mass grave, no one wins. The cities stop making money so they can''t afford to donate to the subhuman cause." --Senator Alfred Von Grating, 2031 What a heartwarming statement! I can imagine a real senator saying something vaguely similar, so its a pretty spot-on SCS epigraph candidate. "PLAYING AND CHEATING WITH PLAYERS Manipulating the game to defeat other players and manipulate the outcome of the game is considered a legal tactic. Allowed in-game cheating and manipulation are entirely within the realm of how it should be, so long as exploitation exists within reason." -- excerpt from A Gamer''s Guide: Playing StarCraft by Twinge Publishing Ltd., 2028 An interesting one. I recognize Twinge and the fake Twitch I created. I dont recall ever mentioning Starcraft in SCS, but the AI has access to plenty of public records that likely tie the game to... well, games. "The nature of Flashes in the Dark remains one of the most controversial points of discussion for fans and critics alike. Some claim that it''s only a metaphor, that there is nothing beyond symbolism, subtext and allusion. Others maintain with conviction that their artistic vision extends to their own philosophical beliefs and religious understandings. Still others refuse to lend any credence or gravitas to the issue." --A Companion''s Guide To Music & Pop Culture In 2046, 2047 Edition! (2047) chapter 5: The Sound Of Crime! Somehow, a little ominous. Also, the Sound of Crime is a really cool name and Im stealing it. And thats all for now. If you want to play around with the system, join my discord! The bots in one of its own channels. If you want to support this kind of nonsense, then join OpenAI with a free account and send the apikey to hazardous1222#8826 on Discord! If you have any questions about the AI itself, then... ask them here, I guess! This is going to be part one of two. Im working on some mini-interludes written with AI assistance. Well see how that turns out! Chapter Forty-Nine - Those Who Love Cannons Chapter Forty-Nine - Those Who Love Cannons Chapter Forty-Nine - Those Who Love Cannons You saw something scary? You were a little afraid? Aww, poor baby. Have you tried Manning the Fuck Up? Manning the Fuck Up is a vitamin and protein supplement for REAL MEN. It is packed full of protein, essential vitamins, and serotonin reuptake inhibitors thatll have you feeling like a killer again! PTSD is a myth. Theres no such thing. Whats that? Youre some cry baby woman? Then try Woman the Fuck Up! Its the pink bottles, bitch. --Force-Viral ad for Doctor Fists Real Medicine, 2026 *** The first thing I did once I was back on the ground floor was to check on the mecha cats. I had a handy app-like bit of software I could tap into that basically gave me a shitty map of the area and showed me where the cat-drones were in relation to me. They were all green, which I figured meant we were safe for the moment. Then I checked on Grasshopper. My... friend was leaning up against a wall, legs sprawled out and the nanomachine healing kit sitting on her lap. She had a granola bar in one hand and was chewing it slowly as I approached. Hey, I said. Feeling better? She chewed a few more times, then swallowed. Yes, she said. I suspect Im dosed with enough painkillers that attempting to operate anything wouldnt be a wise choice. Yeah, I bet, I said. The civilians filed into the area behind me. They were sticking close to each other, like a frightened herd of deer that had just been startled. Their eyes were open the same way, as if the first loud noise they heard would be enough to spook them. Honestly, I couldnt blame them. Still, if they were a bit more calm, Id consider arming them up for their own safety. As it was... that didnt seem wise. Grasshopper leaned up so that she could see the civilians better. Theres... less of them, she said. Yeah, I agreed. Oh. It was just one little sound, but the way she said it carried a lot of baggage. I half turned and gestured the civilians away. They were reluctant to move until a few of the cat mechs in the area herded them away. I knelt down next to Grasshopper. Are you okay? I asked. She considered it, then took a bite of her granola bar and nodded. That was the most Id get out of her, I figured. The line went dead. I stood there for a moment, then swore. Okay, fuck. Grasshopper! Your evacs coming in a bit. I need to make room for it. Can you help the civilians get to it once it touches down? I asked. Grasshopper blinked a few times, then she rolled to her side and climbed to her feet. It didnt look easy, but she made it. Ill do my very best, she said. I nodded, then hesitated. Front or back? The back was a mess, the front probably had a lot more aliens to deal with. But then the front would be easier for the civilians. Myalis, pull the cats back. Keep them close to Grasshopper. We dont need to secure the entire damned building, I dont think. Understood. How do you intend to secure the street? With a lot of bombs, I said as I crossed the offices on a straight path to the front of the building. How many access-ways are there on the street? I mean... theres both ends, plus how many alleys and how many compromised buildings? One moment... I count thirty-two ways for an antithesis ground unit to reach the road within one hundred metres of this buildings exit. I need thirty-two of those acid rain bombs. I want every passage in to cost the fuckers. As many resonators too. Well enclose the area. There was a model four at the entrance, prying the doors open with a pair of tentacles. It was strong enough that the glass door was starting to open. I pulled up my Bullcat and fired through the glass and into the alien. Then I stepped out onto the street. I may have been a little hasty, I realized as I took in the number of aliens running across. They noticed me at about the same time. My back-mounted guns snapped out of their housing and immediately started to fire. I expected them to fire single shots, but instead both of them purred, a constant wave of superheated air pouring out of them while aliens all across the street were ripped apart. Not to be outdone, I leaned into my shotgun, flicked it back to full-auto, then swept across the horde, raining buckshot into every alien I could see. Nades, I said. Myalis caught on, and a large box appeared by my side. I kicked it open and the acid-rain grenades within zipped up into the air above. They darted over the alleys and to the end of the road a moment before a glowing mist started to come down over those entrances. The immediate area around me was clear, so I dropped to a knee next to the box and started to pick out resonators from within it. I turned them on with a flick of my thumb, then tossed them out across the road. My throwing aim wasnt perfect, but the fun thing with explosives was that accuracy was optional. Were going to need something for the air, I said. Turrets? A bit uncreative, but they kinda worked. I had a lot of points to work with though, and it would feel kind of lame to just face a few cheap-o laser arrays on the edge of the street plucking the smaller alien birds out of the air. Myalis, got any ideas for keeping the skies safe? I asked. Not something dinky. I imagine you need a solution that doesnt require your direct attention? In that case, how about a Flak Cat Cannon? *** Chapter Fifty - Emoscythe Chapter Fifty - Emoscythe Chapter Fifty - Emoscythe Things have gone to shit, as expected, but New Montreals not doing too bad. The Corporate State of Ontarios fucked. Quebec city has started full on drafting, and Manitoba is... actually, nothings changed there. Its still a hellscape. --Real Canadian News, 2057 live broadcast *** When Myalis suggested a Flak Cat Cannon, I had a mental image of what would appear when I bought it. That mental image was all wrong.Fo?llo?w new stories at novelhall.com The Flak Cat Cannon was a biggish device, maybe the size of my hoverbike, with a large base that had four legs and a barrel that stretched out above it. It looked pretty normal. Sleek and futuristic, but normal. The CAT R Cool decals on the side were a given, of course. What really threw me off were the three mecha cats that came with the cannon. They were wearing little camo army helmets (I realized that the camo was just cat silhouettes in different shades of green that overlapped each other) and hi-vis vests. The cats climbed onto the cannon and started to man it right away. Two of them worked the controls while a third fit a shell into the guns breech. Myalis, is this some sort of joke? I asked. I find it funny. Youre the worst, I said. The cannon is entirely functional. I even managed to reduce the price so that it packs more of a punch than it should for its point-cost. And the mechanised cats operating it can defend themselves as well, giving it some much needed point-defence. I was going to argue some more when the cannon fired. Some of the nearest windows burst apart, glass raining down from on high as a ball of grey dust appeared a hundred metres above. A few seconds later the tinkle of glass was joined by metallic clinks as shrapnel tumbled out of the sky along with some antithesis chunks. The cats scrambled to move the gun around a few degrees and it fired a second time, the shell exploding in the middle of a flock of aliens which were shredded apart by the expanding cloud of shrapnel. Well, at least its working, I said. With the acid grenades and resonators occupying every entrance into this stretch of road, the only aliens making it close looked like shit. Their skin was burned and their bones half melted. It only took a few railgun rounds pumped through them to take them down for good. ETA on that transport? I asked. One minute, twelve seconds. Its a Vanguards vessel. You wont have to worry about the safety of the passengers, not against lower-tier threats. She nodded. Theres room. I was told that Grasshopper was hurt? I detected some actual concern there. Yeah, shes injured. Alive and stable, but Id rather see her on a bed than on the front lines right now. She needs a doctor or two. You know her? Most people dont deserve the gift theyve been given, she drolled. Grasshopper... might not be one of those people. Even if shes bizarre. She had enough makeup on to black out every window on a skyscraper, I wasnt sure if she could start casting stones about peoples bizarreness. Ill get Grasshopper and the civvies out, I said. Can your ship keep the road cleared? Ill manage, she said. She reached back to the ship even as a staircase unfolded itself from the side, leading to the doorway shed jumped out of. Emoscythe grabbed a pair of long black sticks that I guessed were some sort of weapon. Good enough. I wasnt sure how much of her outfit was armour, but I imagined that if she could afford a ship that big she could kill a few aliens. I ran in and met one of my cat mechs just inside, sitting in the middle of the floor with its tail twitching impatiently. How are the civilians? I asked. No major changes. I nodded along and continued past the cat guarding the passage. I found Grasshopper with the civilians, patting one of them on the shoulder even as she continued to look like death warmed over. Transports here, I said. With Emoscythe along for the ride too. Emoscythe Mordeath Noir is nice, Grasshopper said. Ill be happy to see her. Shes a very kind young woman with a bit of a prickly exterior. Just like you, Cat. Yeah, no, I said. She smiled at me, but I wasnt going to deal with that. Grasshopper hobbled forwards for a step before one of the civilians stepped up next to her and swung her arm over his shoulder. Im sure youll make more friends, Cat, Grasshopper said. Its important to make friends while youre still young and have a reason to spend time with your peers. Itll become increasingly difficult to do as you age. Im not a kindergardener, I said. We exited the front of the building, the mecha cats forming a cordon around the civilians in case some clever alien tried to grab one from behind. Emoscythe was waiting by her ship when we came out, those bars shed picked up earlier had turned into a pair of mini-scythes which she held by her side. Emoscythe Mordeath Noir! Grasshopper said. She took her arm back and stumbled towards the smaller goth. The girl stood still as Grasshopper approached, but the older woman didnt hug her or anything. Im glad you came. I think youll make a great friend with Stray Cat here. Ah, right, Emoscythe said. Just get in the hovertank, you look like you need some rest. Rest is important, yes, Grasshopper agreed. It was only after the civilians and Grasshopper were done loading up and the ship took off that I realized that Emoscythe was staying on the ground with me. *** Ai-pocrypha Two - AI Written Chapter Segments Ai-pocrypha Two - AI Written Chapter Segments Sections in BOLD were written by yours truly. Everything else was written by GPT-3. The methodology here is simple. I fed the AI a starting line or paragraph, then let it run. Every time it completed a section, Id refed it the previous paragraph. Basically, the AI never knew what it was writing about past one or two paragraphs from where it was. A very hard memory restriction. I blinked at Lucy and she stared right back at me. "Really?" I asked. "Yes, she said. "I think it''s a great idea." She placed her hands over her heart. "I''m touched." "Uh-huh," I said as I pushed back my chair. Lucy followed me out of the kitchen, but not before she grabbed a plate for herself and filled it with leftovers. The living room was empty by the time we got there and the holographic Tommo was nowhere to be found. Then again, Myalis could probably remotely run her off if she wanted to. Those two had been getting on really well recently, everyone else aside from maybe me experiencing something of a falling-out on top of all that mess they''d caused at first. Still, in self-defence I slid closer to Lucy and we both put our heads on the pillows. "Happy?" I asked after a moment. "You are," Lucy said as she finally turned to face me. The firelight was casting a red glow over her skin, lighting it up just enough that I could see every curve and dip of her body while making her eyes glow an eerie gold-blue. It was... really really sexy. Smiling at me with these soft lips, so flushed and right above the one place I wanted most to kiss them. "I''m happy because you''re here." It took everything in me not to reach across, grab her face and give her what she wanted. "Lucy, do you know how hot you look?"Th.e? most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m She squirmed closer. "You''re not looking at the right parts of me," she said. I raised an eyebrow but kept my cool for now. "Can you turn on the music?" I asked. The door opened, and a gentle wave of music pushed back through, sounding like a much more reasonable version of what Lucy was listening to before. I recognized it as some kind of experimental jazz or something else complicated. Not my sort of thing, but it did help fill the silence. Lucy seemed to like it too. She hummed along as she made my armour jiggle around a bit, then her fingers started dancing along their own accord over my side, pressing in just hard enough so that she was pushing me back into the bedding. It was sweet, a nice little tease. Something I had plenty of time to enjoy because I wasn''t going anywhere anytime soon. Times like this made me wish I could still drink. It felt like a nice night for something to celebrate. And I''m going to stop that run there. I let it continue for a while, but it was getting pretty... steamy? Also, Lucy got replaced by Gomorrah at some point. It got weird. Heres a second attempt. This time trying to get the AI to write something more slice of life-y. Gomorrah, Deus Ex and I were sitting in the hotel bar, nursing drinks (nonalcoholic for my two boring friends) while walking about all the perks and bonuses that came with being a Samurai. They were... odd. Some of them made sense, some seemed to have been thrown in just to confuse us, and a few had the touch of a very off techy brain to them. Good Lord, it was so good to see that Myalis hadn''t lost any of her humanity while hiding in my gear storage. This made the many times where she tried to murder me just a bit more tolerable. The traction creatures didn''t have time to react. I focused in and fired, the railgun slamming my shoulder and sending a burst of fire right into their group. They exploded, and more models behind them were caught in the sweep of flame as they all died. Explosives one after another started popping up onto the walls, each dropped by a drone that flew off almost as soon I heard the hiss of its package deploying. Gravity grenades tumbled down, their extra weight making them fall slower than normal while little parachutes popped open above them and slowed them the rest of the way down to the ground where they burst apart like over-sized water balloons filled with sewage-coloured liquid. Their payloads splashed all over, roiling and bubbling across the floor. I stepped out onto the ledge. I would have started planting mines next to but mercs were pouring out of the building, too many of them for me to be getting comfortable yet. If only the idiot behind them didn''t decide that it was a great time to toss a grenade down into their midst. Now instead of being caught in two cross-shaped burst, they were soon going to be all mashed up together as they tried to huddle through the burning rain falling over them. So, fight choreography is... complicated. I usually need to draw up maps and plans of motion for every fight that I write. The more players there are in a scene, the more complex it is to decide who does when when, and how that impacts the others. After all, a story is told one sentence at a time, which means that I can only really show one action happening after the other. Its a rather tricky part of writing. The AI... isnt perfect at it. But! Its not terrible. Theres a lot of room to improve here, I think, but theres potential, which is terrifying. I think thatll be the last AI-written chapter for a while. It was fun to play around with, but I dont want to bother people too much with something that--while I find it super interesting--might not be fun for my average reader. Thanks for reading! Actually... wait, one last AI-prompt: Thanks for reading! Click here to check out the next Combat Kittens! If you like what I do, then please consider dropping some stuff in the tip jar. A one-time donation is fine; just be sure to make it a decent amount if you can. The more these projects make, the longer we can keep writing them, and that''s what everyone wants! Chapter Fifty-One - Gothic Public Relations Chapter Fifty-One - Gothic Public Relations Chapter Fifty-One - Gothic Public Relations Its all about the memes. --Emoscythe Mordeath Noir, Seventh-Annual PR Specialist Conference, 2049 *** So whatre you doing here? I asked. Emoscythe stared at me. For some reason her lack of armour was bothering me. I mean, she was her own girl, and if that big ship was anything to go by, she could afford some pretty nice shit if she wanted to. I couldnt even toss that many stones from my glass house, I had been reluctant to get armour for myself for a while. Id learned better since, especially after my gear had likely saved my ass a few times. Im here to kill aliens, Emosycthe said. And to keep an eye on you. Me? I asked. She nodded. I have access to the records. Youre the third newest samurai in the city. The newest who didnt become a Vanguard in the last forty-eight hours. Alright, I said. But I think Im doing okay for myself. You think that? she asked. Yeah, I said. She looked me up and down. I suppose it could be worse. Thanks, I said flatly. Look, I dont mind keeping someone company, but I dont do babysitting and I dont need to be babysat. Im guessing you can pull your weight, if youre acting so self-confident. Her eyes narrowed, but she nodded. I can handle myself, Stray Cat. You sure do have a stick, I said with a gesture to the staff she held next to her. Emoscythes thumb ran along the shaft. Its my preferred weapon. Maybe youll get to see it in use. But... that can wait. What are your objectives now? I dont know, I said honestly. I got side-tracked when I heard that Grasshopper needed help. Wasnt doing much before that. Well, thats not true. I was setting up chokepoints and ambushes to take out as many aliens as possible before they reached the front. She nodded. Invisibility and explosives. I remember. You have both of those and the cat gimmick going on. Youre spreading yourself a little thin, I think, but youre new enough that some experimentations normal. Uh, yeah, sure, I said. Anyway, the building I was in collapsed and I got pinned at the bottom. Had to get a new arm. I wiggled my hand around. I was expecting some sort of reaction from that. What Id just described had been kind of metal, but Emoscythe didnt seem either surprised or impressed. We should probably head back to the wall. We can plug any gaps in the formation there, and its possible that they need the assistance we could provide. Two samurai not assisting is a huge loss in firepower. Youre a bit more... no-nonsense than I was expecting, I said. I watched as she easily climbed up the vertical surface, using her mini-scythes as handholds whenever she needed one. There was no way her body wasnt modified. Especially not when her knees shifted and more blades slipped out from her legs to turn her climb into a skitter. Shes pretty fucking weird, I muttered. Her record as a Vanguard is impressive. Several years of constant effort, though it seems that she has discovered what she wanted to accomplish and has turned her focus onto that rather than improving overall or becoming more powerful. Is that a bad thing? I asked. No. A Vanguard is free to choose how they will develop. If they find a level where they are comfortable, theres nothing stopping them from staying there. I jumped up and fired my jetpack thrusters, propelling me into the air and past Emoscythe just as she reached the top of the building and rolled onto her feet on the rooftop. I landed next to her and glanced around for any trouble that might be waiting for us. Straight to the wall? I asked. We dont need to rush back. Not if a detour might mean more dead xenos or living civilians. Emoscythe pointed towards New Montreal proper, the city acting as a landmark that was impossible to miss. I glanced at the map again. We werent too far from a few spots that were darker orange. A few blocks at most. Myalis, can you plot a course over the worse areas while heading back to the gap? I can drop some ordinance from above to thin out the worst of the wave while we pass. Not a bad idea, Emoscythe said. Artillery wont strike so close to the city and the wall. The tremors from it and the shrapnel from any big explosion could damage the parts of the city were trying to safeguard. Myalis drew a line across the map which zig-zagged a bit on its way back to the gap. Thanks, I said. You got a copy of that? I asked Emoscythe. At her nod, I gestured ahead. Well then, lets go. While were going, well continue that talk about your image. Really? I asked. In the middle of a warzone? You dont seem the type who sits on her laurels and has long discussions about style and public perceptions, she said. She wasnt wrong, but it still felt like this wasnt the place for it. So, why the cat theme? Im not the one who named herself Stray Cat, I said. Longbow gave me that name. Oh. I named him actually. I paused. Wait, really? That was several years ago, she explained. How long have you been a samurai for? I asked. Ten years in a few months, she said. So, you seem to have really leaned into the theme. Ive seen some examples of your armours. It does seem to fit in with your stealth specialisation, which is handy. People think of cats as quiet, nocturnal hunters, so the association is easy to make there. I had a hard time keeping up with what she was saying, mostly because I couldnt stop thinking about how long shed been a samurai for. That made her something of a veteran. Which also made her scary. And here she was, talking about cat memes while jogging next to me on a rooftop. *** Chapter Fifty-Two - Contact Chapter Fifty-Two - Contact Chapter Fifty-Two - Contact The very first--or the one who was the first reported, at least--samurai, was forty-two year old Alfred Prickleback. He assisted in a local incursion when the governments of the world were still utterly confused as to what was occurring, and successfully repelled what we now know to be one of the weakest incursions on record. He handed himself in to the authorities afterwards, claiming to have suffered a psychotic break because he kept hearing voices in his head. --Vanguards, a history, 2034 *** Contact, Emoscythe drawled. Usually, when someone spotted a massive group of aliens they put a bit of oomph into their words, maybe a bit of excitement. Emoscythe said contact with all of the enthusiasm that Id expect from a secretary saying next. The street below was filled to the brim with aliens. Surprisingly though, they werent charging around like mad dogs in a kibble factory. I moved closer to the edge of the roof, stealth systems on so that Id be just a little harder to notice. Emoscythe was still a few steps back, but I guessed she had some way of seeing over the edge. Thats a lot of them, I said. I squinted at the crowded street. Lots of model threes, some model ones resting here and there. The usual mix of fours and fives, because everyone needed tentacles and tanks in their lives. What concerned me more was what I couldnt see. The aliens were crowding around the opening to a parking garage. This wasnt so much a street as it was a cul-de-sac with access to a couple of parking spaces for land-bound vehicles. One of the buildings across from us was a twenty-floor parking space, for hovercars and normal cars. Why arent they moving? I asked. Theyre protecting something, she said. Youll see this kind of behaviour sometimes, next to a hive. You think they have a hive down there? I asked. Right now? No, its a little too early for that. I think wed have noticed a hive if it was here before this wave started up. The buildings around here are pretty tall, few street-facing stores, so not many cameras, and the road is narrow. I think this might be a spot where the antithesis are setting up a fresh hive. Oh, great, I said. So, bomb the entire street until theres nothing left but ashes, and then salt the earth behind us? Thats an option, she said. I have the impression that there might be something else going on here. Theyre too docile for being so close to so much action. At the very least they should be scavenging for biomass. I pulled back from the edge. Then what? I asked. Ill go down and check, she said. We can continue talking after that. Im not letting you go down there on your own, I said. Thatd be irresponsible. She shrugged. Its fine either way. I mostly fight close to whatever Im killing. Can you do overwatch? Snipe them from afar? I... cant, no, I admitted. My aims kind of trash. I felt a little useless as Emoscythe chased down the last alien--an unlucky model four whose tentacles wiggled in a panic before she sliced each one apart with a quick, precise cut from her sword. Were done here, Emoscythe said. She flicked her sword to the side and a spray of blood flew off it and coated the ground. Somehow, she was entirely spotless. I guess so, I said. My ears twitched towards the opening to the underground parking lot. Theres more down there. Emoscythe glanced at the entrance. Do you want to look into it? We have the time to spare, and it might make everyones lives easier later to have one fewer hive to deal with. I could bring the building down on top of whatevers in there, I said. Could be something valuable thats keeping the antithesis attention. Im sorry, I like more precise attacks. Indiscriminate bombing makes me somewhat uncomfortable and goes against my style. Nah, its all good, I said. Not everythings for everyone. She nodded. So, have you considered implementing your stylistic choice with your weaponry? It wouldnt be difficult to do for melee-type weaponry. Claws are a cats natural weapon, and I imagine that fangs could be arranged. Uh, yeah, I had claws. Never really used them though, I said. She nodded. Thats interesting. What about the sword? I glanced at Void Terminus, hanging off my hip. What of it? It has a cat charm, which is cute, but its not really on-theme, is it? Why does that matter? I asked. Not like my bombs meow before going off. She frowned. I suppose it doesnt matter in the short term. My goal is to ensure that every samurai leaves a legacy behind. Its much easier to do that when they have a clear image and style that they adhere to. It can be done for everyman-type samurai too, but then it becomes more about... public relations and great accomplishments. Not that you should avoid either one of those. You have the potential to do great things, I think. Thanks, I deadpanned. She sniffed. Longbows an example of a samurai with no clear gimmick. Hes done well for himself, I think. He one of your projects? I asked. Emoscythe rolled her eyes. I dont have projects. I have friends, and a subject Im passionate about. Thats all. So youre not going to force me to get fur-covered armour and go nya whenever I speak? No, she said. I advise and help where I can. I dont push things on people. Like I said, Im not a bitch. I do like the idea of making you nya though. *** Chapter Fifty-Three - Mop Up Chapter Fifty-Three - Mop Up Chapter Fifty-Three - Mop Up No no, theres nothing to worry about, mister mayor. We have a dozen samurai guarding the city. Im certain well be able to prevail against any threat against New Montreal. --Laserjack, to the mayor of New Montreal, 2057 *** Who goes in first? I asked with a gesture to the parking garage entrance. It wasnt anything special. A cement ramp leading down to a hip-high barricade that could sink into the ground when someone paid the entrance fee. The lights were off inside, which wasnt surprising, none of the lights I could see outside were on. The area had either been cut off, or some of that earlier shelling had done a number on the power grid. There were probably hundreds of generators around, but who would install one in a glorified parking lot? Ill take point, Emoscythe said. Im used to closer-range engagements than you are, I think. Fair enough, I said with a sweeping gesture to the hole. She nodded to me and stepped ahead. Myalis, get me a couple of cats. Maybe with spotlights or something. Im sure Emoscythe can see in the dark, but I like light more. Understood. Emoscythe glanced over her shoulder as two cases thumped lightly onto the ground and a pair of cat mechs slid out from within. Drones? she asked. Yeah. Theyre handy. She nodded. They can be, yes. Dont rely on them overly much. They eventually become a point-sink when dealing with higher-tier adversaries. Hows that? I asked. You risk spreading your points out too much. Ten ten-thousand point drones is impressive. But a single samurai with a hundred-thousand points worth of gear would be a lot more effective. And theres a point fall-off with drones. Not when youre right next to them, but when theyre operating independently. Theyre like giving normal people weapons. Youll only receive a fraction of the points. Good for plugging holes in defences though, especially if you find a way to keep the drones on theme. She reached down and patted one of the drones on the head. It was, in most respects, a normal cat mecha, but this one had really big eyes that glowed like headlights and the gun on its back had a light attached to the side of it which turned on with a thump and acted as though a very narrow sun had just risen in the room. I squinted at a sea of cars and aliens. Emoscythe and I paused near the base of the ramp and kind of just stared as more and more glowing eyes opened up in the shadows. She didnt wait for a reply before she started moving in towards the big alien. That was like the gunshot that set off the race for all the other xenos. They saw her approaching and rushed across the parking lot. I brought my Bullcat up and snapped a shot or two into the nearest, but that wasnt going to be enough. The mecha cats Id deployed opened fire as well even as they backed up towards me, headlight eyes focusing on the nearest of the aliens. Myalis, I need B.E.E.S., I said. A whole lot of them. Myalis obliged, and a crate-full of B.E.E.S. grenades appeared next to me. I grabbed the first, flicked it on with the same hand, then flung it to the side while glowing microdrones poured out of the grenade and started to hum through the air. By the time Id deployed my sixth grenade the entire parking garage hummed with the incessant drone of a whole lot of very angry robots. I ran to catch up to Emoscythe who was slicing her way through any obstructions on her way to the model twenty-two. The big mobile hive stared placidly as she approached, still chewing on some unfortunate nobody. Then, when she got closer, it started to move. Emoscythe slipped to the side while pirouetting on one foot as one of the model twenty-twos legs struck out where shed been. Her sword casually flicked up, and the model twenty-two blinked dumbly as its foreleg crashed to the ground, gushing green blood. I picked a few resonators out of the air and tossed them around the room. Their high-pitched whine added to the chaos. I wasnt an expert, but I think the rooms enclosed acoustics might have helped the grenades range. A model three made it past the circling barrier of B.E.E.S. and leapt at my face. I grabbed it out of the air out of sheer reflex and was surprised that I wasnt bowed over by its weight shoving up against me. I held onto its head with my mechanical hand for a moment, before I squeezed my fingers shut. Brains splashed all over, as if Id crushed a fruit, and I made a mental note to be careful if Lucy ever tried to hug me while I was in this suit. Emoscythe danced under the big alien, sword slicing across its underbelly so that guts and innards spilled out of it. There were long strands in there, like a weird colon, but filled with what were unmistakably model threes the size of large chickens. Another leg was cut off, and the model twenty-two finally started to panic, legs kicking out and body spinning. It even threw its lunch at Emoscythe who ducked out of the way. And then she held her sword by her side, set her feet apart, and glared. A moment later her stance had changed and her sword was now on her other side, a long blur fading out of the air before her. The model twenty-two groaned as it split apart down the middle. Behind it, a few of the pillars holding up the parking garage crumbled. Lets mop this up, she said. We should report this too, while were at it. *** Chapter Fifty-Four - Essentially Doomed Chapter Fifty-Four - Essentially Doomed Chapter Fifty-Four - Essentially Doomed The entire generation born after the year 2000 was made aware, from a very young age, that they were essentially doomed, and that no one was going to do anything about it. Climate change continued to be ignored, because fixing that would require too big a change. The government continued to print money to bail out corporations. Inflation jumped to an all-time high while interest plummeted. That generation saw a tightening of the cycle wherein the middle class got a little poorer and the rich got a little richer. So for a lot of them, the alien invasion was just a cherry on top. --Extract from Memoirs of a Zoomer, 2047 *** I glanced around the parking garage, helped by the spotlights from the two mecha cats that were still lingering by the entrance. I cant see anything left alive down here, I said. Except for us, I mean. Emoscythe nodded, flipped her sword around, then slid it into a loop on her belt. Somehow that loop coated the sword in something that looked like a sheath. Were done here, I think, she said. I asked Myalis for a few of those nano-machine grenades that ate antithesis flesh, and after activating them, I tossed the nades to the far ends of the room. The few resonators left were winding down and going quiet at last. That should make the area a little less hospitable for them. But only here, Emoscythe said. Ideally wed go floor-by-floor to ensure that there arent any more xenos left, but I dont think that would be wise right now. Securing one building which is likely surrounded already isnt going to help anyone. Were going to have to push back the entire wave, then secure this part of the city building-by-building. Were going to have to do that everywhere, I said. The entire country side, every little shithole town, every cave and forest... were kinda fucked, you know. You dont sound depressed about it, Emoscythe said. I shrugged, but I wasnt sure how well that gesture came across with my bigger armour on. My entire life I have been acutely aware of just how fucked I am. And I dont mean just the big-picture shit. Ive always had bigger, closer problems to worry about than climate change or the economy. Emoscythe started towards the exit. You know, Im the one thats supposed to be all doom and gloom. Hey now, theres enough gloom for everyone to share a bit of it. We walked up the exit ramp and I raised my gun and fired point-blank into the side of a model three that was sniffing around. Back to the wall? Emoscythe checked our surroundings, then started walking that way. Might as well. Something tells me the defenders are going to need all the help they can get. Is that something the presence of a model twenty-something? Because Im pretty sure we arent supposed to see those for a while. The gear was wildly different. One group had exo-suits and heavy machine guns. They had tanks parked behind purpose-built barriers with forward facing spikes. Next to them, civilians with cheap headphones and rifles were shoring up a wall of sandbags. It was a fucking mess. I took note of the heaps of dead aliens around the first wall of debris. It was an effective mess maybe. Emoscythe took a running jump off the top of the building we were on and rolled to a landing below. I respected gravity a bit more and took my time descending with my jump jets, landing with a crunch a few steps behind her. You think the Family will be telling us where to deploy? I asked. Likely, she said. It wont be hard to see which area needs the most assistance regardless. That made an uncomfortable amount of sense. I noticed a lot of guns from a lot of groups turning our way, but most were clever enough to aim elsewhere as soon as they noticed that we were human. It wouldn''t be hard to guess that we were samurai, I imagined. Emoscythe looked like a pretty plain tech-goth kind of girl. The sort of person that had no business walking out of a section of city entirely overrun by aliens without so much as a blemish on her black lipstick, and I was wearing power armour with cat ears. We ran across the no-mans land, around the corpses of the few aliens who had made it deeper in and over craters left behind in the dirt and mud. Someone had been using explosives all across the area. I couldnt really blame them either. Emoscythe jumped over one of the cement barriers, then slowed to a stop on the other side. I climbed over it with a bit less grace. Almost as soon as she stopped, a man in full combat dress ran up to us. Maam, he said with a sharp salute. Glad to see you here. We could really use the help. How bad is it? I asked. He turned towards me and snapped the same crisp salute. I didnt know which PMC he was part of, the symbol on his chest read Bear but I wasnt sure if that was the company or his group. Things have been positive so far, maam. We pushed back the last wave, but they broke through in four places. We had to relocate some of the rear lines to prevent the breach from going in too deep. I looked past him and to the rear line he was talking about. The front had barricades of one sort or another, with the few odd tank or machine gun emplacements here and there. Then there was the space where the wall would be. Workers were pouring cement and machines were digging out holes even as we spoke. Past that was a second line of barricades. That one had a lot more armour. Tanks, properly big ones, with temporary towers that had gun emplacements on them. A few AA trucks were parked here and there, guns aiming skywards. You getting paid more to be up here? I asked. Combat pay and a half, he said. Right. Well, I wasnt going to get paid like that, so I might as well make the best of it. Tell me where the breaches happened. Ill try to shore up those spots. *** Chapter Fifty-Five - The Calm Before Chapter Fifty-Five - The Calm Before Chapter Fifty-Five - The Calm Before Rural living has become a thing of the distant past, but you can recapture some of that essence today by joining one of Stabiloos Prime Trailer Parks! Find comfort and easy living next to like minded and like-classed people in one of our permanent temporary housing units! --Stabiloos Housing Ad, 2034 *** Im going to split off for a moment, Emoscythe said. She extended a hand my way for a shake. It was nice meeting you properly. If you ever need image help, give me a call. If youre looking for a reason to live, then maybe call someone else. Uh, yeah, sure, I said. I took her hand in mine and shook, careful not to squish her with my armour. My gauntlets basically eclipsed her hands in armoured steel and I worried Id hear a crunch. Nothing of the sort happened though. She was a more experienced samurai. Maybe her arms were all cybernetic. Or maybe she was a remote-controlled meat puppet the entire time. It was impossible to tell without asking, and asking felt like a faux-pas. It was like asking a girl if she was wearing a wig Keep an ear open for updates from the Family. Knowing Laserjack, hes going to want everyone in particular spots until the walls entirely closed up. Your choice whether you listen or not, Emoscythe said. She waved me goodbye, then headed out. A couple of PMCs jogged over to her and started trailing after her like dogs after someone with a bagful of treats. I watched her go for a moment before turning around and facing the suburbs the aliens were gleefully taking over. How long until the next wave? I asked. It was meant for Myalis, but the Bear-PMC next to me took it to mean I was asking him. We predict that the next wave will be ready within the hour. Were expecting a much bigger one tonight. Right, theyll have all day to replenish themselves, especially if were here defending the city and not fucking over their hives. I looked up and down the length of the defences. The edges were going to pinch in eventually. The crews working on the wall were laying down another section of it. Ten fewer metres of space that the aliens could easily cross. I imagined that they were doing the same on the far end. How quickly are they adding wall segments in? I asked. About one every twenty to thirty minutes, he said. They have to slow down whenever enough xenos approach the wall. I nodded along. How long do we have left then? Assuming that no aliens bother us? One point two kilometres left, maam, he said. Segments are ten metres each. I cursed silently. More math. I worked it out though. Sixty hours if they only did one side. Half that if they came in from both sides. Hows it going to take so damned long? Weve covered the rest of the city in a day and a half. Ah, I think for the rest of the city they had a lot more than two crews working at once. Well, fuck, I said. I walked over to my spot of the gap, then continued on to the far end to get an idea of how big a spot they wanted me to cover. It wasnt a small gap. I had maybe fifty metres to cover. Three groups were gathered up, with barricades pushing up against the edge of the no-mans land. Two were unfamiliar mercenary groups, the third, in the middle of the other two, was a group of militia. The District Ninety-Two Gunners. They were stacking sandbags still, with a few guys plopped down behind a pair of big machine guns. Every one of the civilians was wearing leather jackets with cheap bullet-proof vests under. Half of them were ruining their mohawks with ear protection which clashed with all of the neon cyberware they had. Were they a militia or a street-gang that had mobilised? I decided that I didnt care. I planted a boot on the edge of a barricade, then pulled myself up and over. While I was up there, I glanced at the city where the aliens would be coming from. We had a bit of room between us and the wall of rubble. It wasnt piled so high that I couldnt see past it, standing as I was atop the barricade. Turning, I noted that both PMC outfits had set up some towers to get a better view. Dull green things that looked like those scaffolds construction workers set up next to homes sometimes, only with more armour plating on the upper half and a proper roof and mounts for guns. Alright, I muttered. Myalis, I think were going to mine the shit out of no-mans land. Im thinking stuff that wont be lethal if it flies back in our faces. Resonators are my go-to option here. Maybe we can get some of those acid bombs up in the air? Spray down anything that tries to run at us. Did you want to place the mines yourself? I considered it. That would be time consuming. I could probably order some of the PMCs or militia-types to do it, but... No, too risky. Can I get a couple of cat mechas to do it? Certainly. Adding that kind of mechanism to your drones is entirely possible. Right, lets do that then. Im sure you can figure out a good grid system for the mines. Maybe we can mix in a few others. Im thinking garrots right after the rubble wall over there. Turn any fucks that get past the wall into mince-meat the moment theyre over. Some of those zero-kelvin bombs too, in case something big bursts past the wall. Noted. Do you want me to preload the mine-layer drones with that kind of ordonance? Please and thank-you, I said. Myalis summoned a trio of cat drones for me. They were a bit smaller than usual, with a back-mounted arm and backpacks that were clearly full of explosive goodies. The cats ran off into the no-mans land and as one, started digging with their front paws like giant kitties in a litter box. Right, Im going to go meet this unnamed samurai. Maybe say hi to Gomorrah before the fun starts. Dont need her burning my mines out by accident. *** Chapter Fifty-Six - Wait for it Chapter Fifty-Six - Wait for it Chapter Fifty-Six - Wait for it One of the more interesting facets of modern class stratification is a persons relationship with advertising. Low-brow advertising, designed to appeal to the poorer masses, is loud, brash, in-your-face, and not afraid of using gore and sex to draw attention to a product. High-brow advertising is quiet, discreet, and can often be missed entirely. The reason for this distinction is simple, and it has little to do with class and taste. The richer you become, the less advertising you will see. Ads will be swept away by subscriptions and expensive ad-blockers. Which means that any ads that dont want to offend those people unused to seeing any ad at all, must be discreet and careful enough to slip by those expensive filters. --2031 Marketing Con, Streamed online conference, 2031 *** Yo, I said, one hand rising lazily to wave. Gomorrah nodded. Hello, she said. We were on two sides of a hip-high fence one of the PMC groups had put up between their section of the defences and another groups. It just so happened that the fence split off the section I was responsible for from Gomorrahs. New armour? she asked. I nodded. Yeah, a building fell on me. New arm, new armour. You know how it is. I couldnt see her face, but I could tell she was concerned. Something about the way she shifted just a little. Are you alright? Oh, yeah, no, the arm I lost was my cybernetic one, so it didnt actually hurt. My flesh-arms still there. At least for now. The new one can vibrate, so maybe Lucy will insist that I replace all of my limbs, you know? Gomorrah sighed. If youre making crude jokes, then you cant be that badly hurt. I grinned right back. What about you? Have fun burning the xenos? She nodded once. Yes. Yes I did. I never really went all-out with a flamethrower in such a crowded city before. I... I didnt know how satisfying it would be to see entire blocks light up, with little aliens running out of the fire already near death. It was... beautiful, in a way. Purifying. My grin became a little fixed, and Im pretty sure I noticed some of the PMCs who had been sticking around backing off. Id overheard some of them boasting between each other that they were lucky that they had the pyro nun on their side while the competition had to deal with me. I think they were reconsidering. So, how are we going to fry the fucks who come over here? I asked. Ive been deploying mines. Or those cat mechs over there have. I think that as long as we put enough pressure on it, the wave will buckle around the points with more resistance and focus in on any spot where theres less, Gomorrah said. Ill be out on the front, cooking anything that gets too close. You wont have to worry about this flank. Yeah, heard there was a new kid around here. Im guarding everything on this side of this wall here. Wanted to make sure my flank was safe, you know? I lightly kicked the edge of the wall I was standing on. Thank you, maam, wed appreciate the help, he said. That was telling. Mister Davis is by the COs tent, the PMC said with a gesture towards the back. I can escort you. I know how to walk on my own, but thanks, I said. I jumped down, landing with a slight bend of my knees. After shutting off my helmet mic, I spoke to Myalis. What can you dig up on Davis? Its considered a faux-pas to assist a Vanguard in spying on another. Though the line between basic information and spying is rather clear. Jimothy Davis is a twenty-two year old New Montreal native. Jimothy. Holy shit, did his momma not love him? I shook my head. Thanks. That actually helps a bit. The COs tent was less a tent and more a pre-fab building with tin walls and sandbags all around. The interior had a few desks with techs at them, and a pair of people that stood out like sore thumbs. One had to be the commander. A short, older woman who had more wrinkles on her face than shits to give. She eyed me, but didnt protest me coming in. Next to her was who I assumed to be Jimothy Davis, the new samurai kid (who was a few years older than me, but that didnt matter). Tall, bean-pole of a guy, with dirty jeans and a flannel button-up under a vest that looked bullet-proof. He had a cowboy hat on, one that was glowing with RGB, and of course the spurs on his boots glowed too. He had a rifle slung over a shoulder, but it didnt look like anything special. Just grandpas pea-shooter. Yo, I said while extending a hand to him. Youre Temporary Designation Farm Boy? Jimothy smiled ruefully and shook my hand. Ah, thats what theyre callin me? he asked. Didnt think thatd be my, ah, Samurai name, ya know? Sorry, I dont know yours. Im Stray Cat, I said. Just Cat between friends. As for the name, I think usually what happens is that one samurai will name another. That means my names now Temporary Designation Farm Boy? he asked with a chuckle. I shook my head. We can think of something better than that, Im sure. He adjusted his hat, raising it up to sweep his hair back before putting the hat back on. Yeah, I know Enyries, Im making nice. I blinked. Did he just talk to his AI? Wow... so I did look crazy when I did it. So, want to talk shop before we get overrun by flesh-eating nasties? *** Chapter Fifty-Seven - Before the Storm Chapter Fifty-Seven - Before the Storm Chapter Fifty-Seven - Before the Storm Times change, weapons change, but the fundamentals dont. You have no idea how hard it is to armour someone up so that a piece of metal moving really fast cant kill them. In the eternal arms race between projectile and armour, the projectile has one hell of a lead.Th.e? most uptodate novels are published on n(0)velbj)n(.)co/m We keep that race going. This year we introduce civilian-grade class seven armour. Able to stop even a DMR round dead in its tracks. We also introduced a new 9.50mm AP round which can brush through class seven like its tissue paper. --Mestle Arms and Childcare Division head, 2039 *** You know, Id appreciate any advice you can give, Jimothy said. He rubbed at his chin, where there was a bit of stubble. Not enough to be like... hot guy on a poster stubble. He looked more like someone that needed to shave. Then again, I wasnt really keen on facial hair. How long have you been a samurai for? I asked. It couldnt be too long if he didnt have a name. Then again, Gomorrah had gone around without one for a bit. Jimothy shrugged. About... four hours now? Five? I dont know, the days been pretty busy. Huh, I said. Yup. Was back home, minding my own, when some monsters roamed over. I lived by Hitchens Brooke, out to the east of here. Nice little community. Anyway, I thought we were right done for when the aliens started showing up in the morning. You decided to stay there? I asked. We were packing still. We decided to move as a big group. Smart thing to do, you know? More people means more protection, but also more chances of getting help if something goes wrong. But it also means that we were slow. Couple of retirees over there, you know? Not the fastest tool in the shed. I wasnt sure if that was how the expression went, but I didnt have the credentials to second guess him. Yeah, fair. So you took a stand or something? Mmmhm, with my great-grandpas Mosin. Took out a few beasties. Then this nasty tentacled fuck, pardon my French, showed up. Ate nearly every round I had. Grabbed me by the leg and I only got out of there because I gotta a knife in my pocket. It did let the others get to safety. Youre a brave one, I said. He chuckled. Didnt you have to do the same? Well, no, I only had to kill two of them. Just two? You got off easy. I only had one arm at the time, and a piece of pipe, I defended. Grumbling to myself, and deciding that Id commiserate with Lucy later--because shed think it was funny, if nothing else--I returned to the centre of the area I was meant to protect. Alright, Myalis, we need mortars. Im thinking six or so of them? In a rough line. We can load them up with something that goes boom in a big way. Oh, maybe some sort of frag rounds? Really punch holes into the bastards. There are a multitude of flavours of fragmentation rounds. Though, seeing as how youll likely want to avoid collateral, perhaps proximity-detonated macro-fragmentation shells? Sounds hot. And we have plenty of points to spend, I said. More explosions sounded out, from behind and before the gap. I glanced back and spotted a few artillery barrages starting to open up. The arcs they were firing in were landing shells only a few hundred metres deeper into the outer city. How close was the wave? Six mortar systems, coming right up. Six light thumps sounded around me, and I jumped back as six boxes, as big as I was--armour and all--appeared next to me. Then twelve more thumps sounded and a gaggle of cat mechas unfolded themselves and ran around so that there were two per box. The cats grabbed onto little handles and lifted the boxes up, then started to move across the area. Theyll set up the mortars. Each team has twenty rounds already, though youll want to replenish those eventually. Can we auto-buy new rounds as theyre depleted? I asked. That is certainly an option. Do you wish to? As long as it doesnt break the bank. The nearest cats opened up their case, which unfolded into hydraulic legs and a long tube with a case next to it and a bunch of measuring doo-dads and what I suspected were recoil-tubes to absorb any impact when they fired. These were less mortars and more small artillery pieces, I realised. A bunch of PMCs and militia-folk were staring as one of the cats opened the breach, loaded in a shell, then hopped onto two legs and started to turn a little adjustment wheel to point the barrel sky-wards. Nothing to see here, folks, I said. Just some robotic cats about to do some weird shit. That was mostly aimed at the one guy who was very clearly filming with the augmentation covering an eye. Cat, you might want to direct your attention to the Familys map. I frowned and did just that. There was a lot of red. More than even the initial wave had. What the fuck. It seems as though this second attempt will be somewhat more numerous than the first. More diffused too. Expect to see an increase in higher-ranked Antithesis. Shit, I said. Suddenly, I felt like maybe a few mines and some mortars wasnt going to be enough. I saw Gomorrah running to the front, and within a half-second, I was doing the same. We needed to break this wave, or else the streets of New Montreal, of my home, would be flooded with alien filth. Again. *** Chapter Fifty-Eight - Crackshot Cowboy Chapter Fifty-Eight - Crackshot Cowboy Chapter Fifty-Eight - Crackshot Cowboy A silent movement began over the turn of the century. It fought back against the increasingly extreme nature of religious belief. The movement suffered from one glaring flaw though. It assumed that the religious cared about the tenets of their own religion when acting. Nothing could be further from the truth. --Atheists Anonymous, 2029 *** You guys had better be ready, I shouted. Shits about to hit the fan! Shit wasnt so much about to hit the fan as it was about to grab the fan, drag it into an alley, then beat it black and blue. Or something like that. I wasnt an expert on analogies and honestly, my mind was on other things. I moved up to the front of the line and looked out across the no-aliens-land between us and the incoming wave. It was a decently sized field, but it wasnt nearly as big as I would have wished. A model three could really scramble when they wanted to. It would take one... maybe ten seconds to cross the space at a dead sprint. Plenty of time for a single one to be gunned down, but what if there were hundreds of them. My grip tightened on my Bullcat. Behind me, the mortars clunked as shells were loaded into them. The militiamen and PMCs were breathing harder, as if theyd already started running around even though nothing had happened yet. I heard leather creaking around handles and the clinking of loose ammo in boxes as they were repositioned for easier access. A few soldiers pulled their mags out and checked them before resetting. Safeties off! someone called from behind me. The not-yet-a-battlefield became surprisingly silent. A ping from my augs almost made me jump out of my skin. Fuck, I muttered as I checked who was calling. Gomorrah. Hey? Cat. I was thinking we should keep in contact. This might not be easy, she said. Alright, makes sense. Want to bring our local farm boy in on the call? He seems a nice enough sort. New though. Might be good to keep an eye out on him. Thats not a bad idea, Gomorrah agreed. I nodded. Myalis, think you can find his aug number? Or can you ping right off of his AI? I think I can manage that much. One moment... and adding him to the call. Um, hello? Jimothys voice asked over the line. I froze. Not for a long time, but for a moment I was almost entirely overwhelmed. There were so many of them. They came pouring over the edge like an angry tsunami of plant flesh and teeth and claws. Stones and cement were rammed aside as bigger aliens shoved their way over, the smaller aliens slipping around their legs and over their backs. The air filled with more and more flyers, darting ahead of the wave on a straight path to our barricades. And then some poor alien fuck stepped on one of my mines. Aliens were flung into the air in shredded hunks of meat. Mortars thumped, and a half-second later detonated over the barricade sending clouds of zipping shrapnel down onto the hoard. Fire! someone ordered. The air filled with the roaring scream of a thousand guns. Muzzleflashes lit up the gap ahead of us with a constant yellow-white strobe, each flash marking the death of another alien. The wave turned into a deadly tumble, bodies flopping over each other on the down-slope of the debris barrier. Still, they kept coming. I brought my gun up and started to fire too. I wasnt even aiming. It didnt matter. Sure, there was a few dozen metres between us and the aliens, but there was so many of the fucks that it was impossible to miss. Acid rained down on their ranks. Bigger artillery pieces boomed behind us. Tanks fired salvos of high-explosive shells into the aliens ranks. I flinched as somethings leg splattered against the side of my head, blown clean across the area. Gomorrah joined the carnage with a wave of fire to counter the wave of flesh rushing at her. Even with my armour I could feel the warmth as a long blue line of liquid fire screamed over to the aliens and started to melt them. It wasnt enough. They kept coming. Teeth and claws and angry eyes but never, never any sounds. Lasers lanced out from somewhere behind the line, swatting model ones out of the air so that they crashed around us as smoking corpses. I saw the first casualty on our side of the wall. Some PMC woman ran to one of the machine gun nests with a big box of ammo. A piece of some alien flipped through the air. A forelimb. Its clawed arm brained her in the side of the head and she went down, just like that. Fuck this, I said. Myalis, I need something to kill lots of shit, really fast. Before Myalis could reply I flinched down and half-hid behind one of the cement walls as debris was tossed into the air ahead. A big lumbering fuck stumbled through the new gap, then it started to run across the empty space, faster than anything that had come before. Everyone in the area turned their focus to the monster. No matter how tough it might have been, there was only so much it could do against the amount of armour-penetrating rounds being flung at it. That moment of distraction though was all the wave needed to get over the barrier in droves. Now they were spreading out, slipping behind cover and rushing out, we couldnt just focus on those on the very top of the wall anymore. Oh shit, I muttered. Chapter Fifty-Nine - Nyanpalm Chapter Fifty-Nine - Nyanpalm Chapter Fifty-Nine - Nyanpalm The most annoying thing to deal with are people who come around and call you an idiot, they say that youre stupid, sometimes even to your face. Some might even be right. The actions you took in the moment were wrong, or less than optimal. But often-times, they themselves arent any smarter. Theyre just critical without self-reflection behind the criticism. Is it any wonder that so many of us just plain refuse to deal with any sort of fan? --Sprocket Rocket, livestreamed interview, 2043 *** I fired until my gun clicked empty, then I lowered it while Myalis reloaded. My back-mounted railguns were spitting at any of the bigger aliens to pop their head over the edge. It wasnt going to be enough. The wave of aliens was acting like a real wave. It would push out, antithesis racing to us, almost running over each other to reach the barricade. Then wed mow them all down and the wave would be shoved back, dead falling down to the ground until nothing was alive from where we stood to the crest of the wall of debris. The next wave would surge right after, so many bodies coming over the hillside that even our collective firepower wasnt enough to push them back. Gomorrah was actually having a better time of it. Some of her fire stuck to the ground after she sprayed it. A glance to the side and I got to see a model three rush across burning soil, its flesh melted, and by the time it was halfway to Gomorrahs position the alien had fallen, limbs unable to work and body alight. Gomorrah, I said. Yes? came her terse reply. She was under about as much stress as the rest of us. It didnt lead to much chattiness. Im borrowing your gimmick, I said. Fires working where bullets arent. Our goal wasnt to kill as many aliens as possible. It was to hold. You can work together with another Vanguard, combining known catalogues to purchase something new. Its not done too frequently though as theres little overlap. In this case, there might be some. That would have been nice to know earlier, I muttered. You hear that Gom? Yes? Whats your idea? Firebombs? I was thinking of something more manoeuvrable, I said. I paused as my mortars fired again, the booms drowning out all else. The shells went off and sprayed the next wave with enough shrapnel that the wave crumbled early and only needed to be mopped up. I think I can equip some cat drones with flame throwers. We could spread them out, maybe. Push in? Gomorrah took a second to reply. Atyacus says its doable. Im not sure about the name of them though. Sounds like another one of your stupid puns. I baulked. I didnt make stupid puns, ever. That was... Myalis, what did you call these things? Seeing as theyre basically an upgraded version of a Lynx-type mechanised cat drone, I suggested that we call them Flamethrower Equipped Lynx Intelligent Nyanpalm Edition or F.E.L.I.N.E for short. Gomorrah vaulted over the hip-high wall covering her section, then she casually walked through the flames, only pausing when an alien jumped out from under a corpse. She met it boot-first, shoved it into the ground, then levelled her flamethrower at it and cooked it. You ready? I asked as I joined her more or less between our two sections. I pumped my shotgun, the satisfying krack-clung and humming glow making me feel a bit better about... I wasnt sure if this counted as a plan or not. Lets just peek over the wall, light some of them on fire, then back off if things get too hot for us to handle, Gomorrah suggested. I nodded once. Sure, I agreed. As we started to stomp our way to the front, another wave crested the barricade. My new F.E.L.I.N.E. units met it with hissing flames. Even with my armour on, I could feel the temperature rising. Sweat was matting my hair down against my forehead. I stepped up the wall of debris, finding purchase carefully between mangled corpses. Behind us, the PMCs and volunteer defenders were stuttering their fire, only taking out the aliens that werent too close to us. Those that came close to Gomorrah and I didnt stay a problem for long. With my free hand gripping the edge of the wall, I pulled myself up, then looked over. Mother of fuck, I swore. The city was full. Every street was crammed with aliens. Most of the space was taken up by smaller ones, but larger models stood out everywhere I cared to look, a lot of them in their tens. I swore again when I saw some of those big artillery models near the back, and a few of those mobile hive units were shoving their way into the sides of buildings. Theyd have the entire place infested in a matter of hours. How long before they started making fresh aliens right here? There was some breathing room just on the other side of the wall, space where the aliens gathered up for another charge. Were going to need bigger guns, I said. And a lot more fire. I winced as shells came raining out of the sky. Explosions burst apart against the sides of buildings and some went off right on top of the antithesis. Huge balls of fire and churned up alien chunks. The gaps they left were filled long before the dust cleared. I glanced back. Our barrier in the gap didnt look so strong compared to what was coming. What were a few thousand people and a hundred-odd tanks going to do against so god-damn many warm aliens? Myalis, you know that second tier with the exotic explosives? I think were going to need it pretty bad right about now. Were going to need more than a few bombs and some fire, Gomorrah said. We both ducked as one of those big artillery models flung a spinning wheel our way. It rumbled past, used the edge of the debris wall as a ramp, then exploded a few metres from the edge of the barricade. Well figure something out, I said. I think I might have sounded more confident than I felt. That, or well die trying. *** Chapter Sixty - The Enemy Wont Do As You Wish Chapter Sixty - The Enemy Won''t Do As You Wish Chapter Sixty - The Enemy Won''t Do As You Wish Vanguard have got something of a knack for things. Look, I aint saying theyre magic or anything, theyre not Jedi or wizards or whatever. They just... you know, theyve got a little something that makes them stand out. You think them brain-AI just picks any git off the street? --Curb-side interview, 2034 *** Myalis, I said. Yes, Catherine? Myalis voice was, as ever, calm, which was reassuring when I was so very close to having my ass eaten by a whole heap of aliens, and not in the fun way. I need a way to kill all these fucks real fast-like, I said. How much collateral damage are you willing to accept responsibility for? I bit my lip at the question. That was terrifying to hear. However much would result in the most dead aliens, I said. Thats easily arrangeable. Your main issue isnt killing the antithesis. Youve proven quite capable at that. Your problem is getting your explosive payload delivered to the Antithesis. Honestly, you might be best served with a slight change in tactics. I have some options for short-to-midrange weapons that can weaken or outright kill most weaker Antithesis. What kind of weapon? I asked. The High Intermittency Sound Scrambler is a device you can fit onto your armour that would act as your resonators do, though with greatly increased efficiency. You just want to give me something called a HISS while Im distracted, dont you? That may play a role in my proposal. Though it would be effective in keeping you alive.Fo?llo?w new stories at novelhall.com Fine, but I want to kill things more than I want to stay alive. Not that I dont want to... fuck, you know what I meant. A box appeared by my feet, and I popped it open. It was relatively small, with a badge-like device within it that was round, maybe the size of my palm, and with a few concentric circles within a metal case. Just apply that to your armour. It will stick on and mesh with your stealth systems. The system will activate on its own when an Antithesis is near. The sound might interrupt any attempts at stealth though. I smacked the HISS against my upper chest and it stayed on with a clunk. Then I poked my head back up and over the debris wall. The renewed shelling had pushed the nearest part of the swarm back, but they were starting to run up towards us again, gaining speed as they covered more ground, leapt over craters and slipped around the roasting bodies of other dead aliens. Gomorrah found a chunk of cement to stand on, then she raised herself up so that her torso poked out above the debris. She shifted her flamethrower around so that it clunked onto a broken piece of fallen masonry, then she started to spray. The liquid fire splashed out ahead of her and Gomorrah slowly swept her flamethrower from left to right. The horde didnt stop just because the ground had turned into a flaming mess. They charged through the smoke and paid for it an instant later as they cooked alive. The bigger models pushed into the fires as well, just as heedless as the smaller, though the more clever among them used the bodies of the fallen as stepping stools. Im listening. Do we have any sort of ground-sensors in the area? There are several. Though currently their readings are complicated by the presence of so many heavy vehicles and drones by the walls. Not to mention the combat and explosive-use. I... would it be stupid to ask the Family to check? Its just a hunch. You are a Vanguard. You were chosen for a multitude of reasons, including your instincts. Your hunches are worth more than others. Thanks, I said. It doesnt mean youre not wrong. Frequently. And humorously. I chuckled. Youre the kindest, I said. Sorry for interrupting, Jimothy said. But Ive got an ounce of experience with ground-related things. If you two are busy I can get something and check on your hunch, Miss Stray Cat. That would be appreciated, Gomorrah said. Go ahead, Crackshot. Oh, I think Im liking the name. Not sure Ive earned it yet though, he said. Give me just a minute. Gomorrah glanced my way. You think theyre under us? Has the Family shut down all the connections between New Montreal and this part of the city? I asked. According to the Familys reports, yes. Though it is possible some unmarked infrastructure remains. Are there any sorts of Antithesis that can dig then? I asked. The Antithesis Model Eight and Eighteen can both dig. Model Eights were those big worm ones that carried food back to the hives. It figured that they could dig, they were worms. I figured a model eighteen was just more of the same. I heard a shift from behind me. A few screams and a pause in some of the gunfire, though the shooting had died down a little around our section ever since Gomorrah and I moved to the front. Oh, hells, Crackshot said. I spun around. What is it? I asked. Then I saw one of those big tanks sitting by the back tip over onto its side. Then, much to my surprise and everyone elses, the tank was thrown back. Several hundred tons of metal bounced up, flew a dozen paces back, then crashed down. A moment later, long black limbs started to press out of the ground. Misses, Crackshot said. I think we might be needing you back here. *** Chapter Sixty-One - Go Kill the Thing Chapter Sixty-One - Go Kill the Thing Chapter Sixty-One - Go Kill the Thing All students at Bartholomew G. Wordstum Elementary school must follow the dress code. That includes: Dress shirt/blouse (white, logo on breast) Fitted slacks/a skirt no shorter than the knees (black) Class 2 bulletproof vest (black) Lounge jacket (school standard, winter or summer variant) All students will be provided with new school software for their augmentations at the beginning of the semester. --Letter to parents of students of Bartholomew G. Wordstum Elementary school, 2039 *** I had about a second to come up with an idea of what to do. That second passed. Cat! Gomorrah shouted. Go kill that thing. Got it! I said. Then I ran. The earth shifted and rent, and from the growing hole came a beast whose appearance alone was enough to clutch my heart. I wasnt a coward or anything, and there were few things that made me nervous or that scared me, but that antithesis... fuck me if it wasnt terrifying. The antithesis clambered out of the hole it had made, slabs of cement falling into the growing pit even as dozens of model threes came pouring out of the hole after it. Its legs were tree trunks, its body was long and covered in thick bones with leathery segments between them. Four legs, and a face like a lamprey fucked chuthulu. As I ran, eyes on the monster, two long tusks ripped out of the sides of its head. They were bigger than I was, with serrated edges and sharp points. One of the tanks nearby started to back up, turret turning towards the antithesis while the big beast was still pulling itself out of the ground. The tank fired, and I slowed my run down. Was that it? Had I been freaking out for nothing? The dust cleared, revealing the antithesis which was shaking its head to clear out the smoke left behind by the exploding shell. It was injured, a crack in the off-white bone over its sternum and skin ripped through, but it wasnt dead. Myalis, what is that? I asked. A model twenty-eight, though that is a small specimen of the model. A small specimen? It was the size of a tanker! The PMCs and militia around the hole turned around. Some opened fire immediately. The smarter ones ran for cover first. I saw two of them get gunned down as a nasty cross-fire started near the backlines. The tanks stationed at the back had turned their attention inwards. Fortunately, they werent firing desperately at the monster. Instead they were taking their time. When one of them fired, the others waited to line up their shot properly. The model twenty-eight groaned as armour-piercing shells punched holes into its sides. Coupled with the explosions I was setting off within it, it was only a matter of time before the alien collapsed onto its side. There was enough weight crashing down all at once that I felt it in the soles of my feet. Well done. That was a difficult opponent. Yeah, well it wasnt just me, I said. I glanced at the hole where the lasers had stopped and more model threes were starting to poke their heads out. The hole was partially encircled by PMCs now, some of them dragging barricades over, others on overwatch to shoot anything that poked its head out. Can I get a box-full of whatever grenade that was last time? I asked. Certainly. Theyre area-denial explosives that fire lasers. Theyre called HAIRBALLS. I shook my head, then grabbed a passing PMC. Myalis box of HAIRBALLS appeared by my feet, and I pointed to it. Bring this to the troops defending that hole. Toss one into the hole every minute. The man nodded his head, grabbed the case, then ran off towards the hole. Hed probably follow my instructions. There was the risk that he was greedy, but... well, running off with a boxfull of explosives was stupid when you didnt know if the person whod given them to you could detonate them from afar. Cat! Gomorrah called back. I spun around. No one was paying attention to the front. At least, no one in our part of the defences. The antithesis knew it. And they abused the fact. Gomorrah was walking backwards across the no mans land. Her flamethrower was spitting fire over what was left of the wall before her. The tide was pouring over the debris, hundreds of them pushing over each others flaming corpses to try and reach Gomorrah. When she lit up one group, another would slip into the gap. She was going to be overrun. Fuck. Attention to the front! I shouted. A few people were paying enough attention that the fire heading ahead redoubled for a moment. I didnt wait. I fired my new gun, hit some model five that was moving too slow, then discarded the gun a moment later. It was too slow. Just as the tide reached Gomorrah, she bent her knees and jumped backwards. Fire bloomed out beneath her and she rocketed into the air on a plume of burning thrust. I let out a relieved sigh. I wouldnt be seeing my friend chewed up just yet. Still, I didnt think our troubles were over. *** Chapter Sixty-Two - Getting Out of Hand Chapter Sixty-Two - Getting Out of Hand Chapter Sixty-Two - Getting Out of Hand You can never be too prepared when dealing with an incursion. When on defensive duty, it behooves a commanding officer to spend their entire budget on good equipment. Yes, cutting corners is tempting, but history and statistics have proven that more money is saved by having better equipment than by purchasing and equipping soldiers with poorer equipment. --The Awe Strikers, CO manual, Page 257, 2044 edition *** This is getting out of hand, I shouted over the din of constant gunfire. The debris barrier had served its purpose, it had slowed down the alien swarm for a good long while. Now, the wall of crumbled cement was riddled with holes as artillery shots from the antithesis exploded against the far side and bigger models rammed their way through the debris. The smaller, more nimble aliens just continued to flow over the wall without much issue. We were burning them. We were shooting them full of holes. We were even outright melting them with acid and resonators. The occasional bomb set off in their midst was chewing through their numbers too. I was tossing everything over to the wall to slow the tide down. Blackhole bombs could only take so much before they stopped. Zero-kelvin grenades would slow the advance down, but only in pockets. Garrot grenades were great at mulching the smaller antithesis, but against the more armoured ones they would break apart after a few seconds of sustained use. Gomorrahs flames grew hotter as she switched over to a new gun. Soon the PMCs on her side were inching closer to mine, away from the scorching heat. I think Crackshot Cowboy to my right got some sort of infinite-ammo thing for his gun because he was firing a whole lot faster. Hed need to replace the barrel soon, it was glowing orange, and not from any RGB. Christ, Gomorrah said. This isnt working. Were not going to hold them back forever. Eventually bigger, stronger models would show up. The barricade we had would fail. Or maybe wed just run out of bullets. There were vans driving over to the backlines with entire pallets of ammo boxes, but I didnt think that would be enough, even with teams of volunteers reloading magazines that were being run back and forth. Myalis, one of those fire-lasers, please, I said. She dropped the grenade into my open palm and I flung it forwards with a grunt. It flew a good long ways before bursting and sniping a dozen aliens with fiery beams of reddish light. That poked a hole in the alien carpet. The hole was filled a moment later. Fuck me, I swore. Yeah, I feel ya, Jimothy said over our shared comms. I had points to spare. Thousands of them. What I didnt have was time. I was really tempted to start chucking nukes or their equivalents onto the aliens, but I had to worry about collateral damage, which meant using more precise weaponry. Go wider, Gomorrah said. Bigger effects, everyone. Bigger effects... I could do that. Myalis, I need the mother of all acid bombs. I want to carpet the entire area in alien-melting goop. That can be arranged. Might I suggest bombs which have highly-pressurized compressed space within them? If filled with sufficiently dangerous chemicals you could quite literally flood a large space with your chemical of choice! A model three with its eyes leaking down the side of its face jumped onto the barricade, jaws wide open to reveal a mouth with gums that had turned to liquid. A militiaman jammed the butt of his gun into the aliens jaw and its many teeth tinkled onto the ground before it flopped back onto the other side of the barricade. More aliens came pouring out of the smoke with their skin melting off. Eyes and lungs seemed to be impacted first. The antithesis were usually rather quiet but now they were gasping for breath with liquid rasps. Having no eyes meant that they werent as coordinated as usual. Plenty of them were running parallel to the barricade now, and a number of them charged up and rammed the cement walls head-first, some hard enough that they died then and there. I noticed some sort of gel-like substance sticking to a lot of them, usually around their legs and on the smaller models, their stomachs and tails and torsos. It was eating through their flesh at an alarming rate. The gas was slowly dissipating. Or rather, it was spreading itself thin. Nice work, Gomorrah said. It doesnt seem flammable either, which is nice, I suppose. I mean, if you want to go all thermobaric on them, go nuts, I said. Dont tempt me, Gomorrah said. Our banter was cut off by a ringing. The Family was calling, and it seemed urgent. I answered, of course, while bringing my Bullcat up to spray at what aliens were making it through the acid cloud. Everyone, Laserjacks voice said over the line. Were almost in the clear. Almost. We have a large number of higher-numbered models coming. Brace yourselves. This is about to get a lot harder. For those of you at the very front... thank you. If you would rather back out now, well understand. I think the PMCs and militia got similar messages. A lot of them were clearly listening to something. And then, just like that, there was a sudden exodus. I stared as entire squads grabbed their gear and ran back. What the hell? I asked. Theyre retreating, Gomorrah said simply. Why? Were winning, arent we? We can take on a few of the bigger bastards, no problem. That wasnt quite true. No problem was a lie. It would be hard. It would be much harder without the help of non-samurai. Ladies, Jimothy said. I dont rightly think Im ready for this part. Going to back up a ways and lay down fire from afar. Good luck, alright? I cursed under my breath. Why now, of all times? I think I need to make a call, Gomorrah said solemnly. *** Chapter Sixty-Three - Burning Chapter Sixty-Three - Burning Chapter Sixty-Three - Burning I miss the good old days. You know, when one game in ten was still single player, without live-service microtransactions and gacha mechanics. Whats the last time a good game came out that wasnt made for mobile? --4channel forums, 2032 *** I thought that maybe knowing I was going to die would depress me a bit more than it did. In reality, all I felt was a little cold. Lucy would be sad. The kittens too. Some of them, at least. The acid cloud was slowly dissipating. The wind, fortunately, was pushing it back and away from us. The acidic goop covering the ground wasnt moving though. A few fallen aliens were sinking into it. Or maybe melting into it would be more appropriate. The front was quiet for the moment. There was still shooting way off to the side, but it was less active than it had been before. I glanced over and took note of Jolly Monarchs Rooks, the big mecha still standing guard over the majority of the gap. I need me one of those, I said as I stared at the bristling array of firepower sticking out of the tower. You can almost afford one now. I snorted. Maybe later. A big walking mech would be pretty fucking cool. I couldnt see any use for it beyond defending this kind of place, but it would be undeniably cool. Myalis--and Lucy--would insist that it look like a giant cat. I could live with that. I shook my head, clearing my mind a bit. I was supposed to be thinking of my impending demise, not giant robots. Glancing around, I searched for Gomorrah, then froze up when I couldnt see her. My blood chilled. Had she retreated? A few PMCs were still running back. Others were defying orders and staying by the front. Had Gomorrah decided that she had enough? Then I spotted her a little ways to the back, standing next to a tank and seemingly unaware that she was in its path. She was bent over, hunched. Had she been hurt or was she changing out her gear? I jogged towards her, skipping over a barricade that stopped at hip-height. I slowed down from a jog to a calmer walk as I came closer. Gomorrahs mask was off, which was unusual. She had placed her mask atop the tracks of the tank and was looking off in another direction. I know... yes, I know that too, she said. She was frustrated, obviously, and talked to someone. I dont know, Franny, its not looking too great down here... no, I cant go back. Its my duty, to God and the people behind me. I wont retreat. But-- Franny, shut up! I stopped a ways away. Id never heard Gomorrah quite so raw before. The line went dead and I shook my head. What a weirdo. Okay, I guess that counts as enough permission for me. Myalis, any idea what kind of fuckery well be dealing with? More models in ten-to-twenty range, certainly. Possibly early hive structures. Gomorrah must have been clued in to what Myalis was saying. Anything we should worry about if we fly over the area and bomb it from above? Atyacus was the one to reply, over the comms, though I suspected that Gomorrah heard her own AI in her head the way I heard Myalis in mine. After observing the area from several camera emplacements overlooking the city, I have noticed fewer flying models than you would usually find in an incursion of this size. Unfortunately, while I have some hypothesis as to why, I lack sufficient data to make a proper analysis. Myalis added her own two credits a moment later. That may change. Model twos and other flying models tend to be lighter than their ground-bound equivalents. Their creation rate within a fully grown hive with sufficient biomass is quite rapid. So lets bomb them before the skies become inhospitable, I said. Were taking the Fury? We could jetpack over, but... yes, Id rather take my car. Itll be safer than just being out there without protection. Though... I dont know if youll fit. I glanced down at myself and my rather imposing armour. She was probably right, unless I was willing to stuff myself into the back seats sideways, there was no way Id fit. I can ditch the armour for now. Well be mostly safe, right? Or I can hang off the roof top. That sounds incredibly reckless. I have jump jets, if I fall I probably wont die, I pointed out. Besides, someone needs to drop the bombs. Speaking of which, do you think we should combo things again? Your fire, my weird explosives? Gomorrah nodded. Oh yes, I could genuinely go for that right now. It was a little weird that Gomorrah could go for a massive pyromaniacal streak the same way someone else might go for a few drinks, but I wasnt going to poke. My favourite nun needed a bit of a break. If that required lighting entire blocks of aliens on fire then so be it. Gomorrah called the Fury over and we hurried up to wait. It wasnt entirely lost time though. We had entire combined catalogues to pour over, picking and choosing the kind of personal hell we were about to unleash upon the aliens who had dared inconvenience us. It was going to be great! *** Chapter Sixty-Four - Climate Change Via Mass Destruction Chapter Sixty-Four - Climate Change Via Mass Destruction Chapter Sixty-Four - Climate Change Via Mass Destruction The average samurai will do as much good for the environment as harm. Theyll occasionally decide to ruin an entire corporation on a whim, often the same corporations responsible for massive environmental disasters (see: BP 2029) and they might provide the tools, expertise, or simple willingness to fix ecological issues. By that same token, they will often cause massive disasters while attempting to eliminate their adversaries (see: The Lake Huron Incident 2032). --An Environmental Analysis of the Impact of Out-of-Context Actors, 2036 *** The Fury spun around in a tight circle as it lowered itself to ground level. A few PMCs glanced our way, but we were doing samurai stuff and they mostly knew to mind their own when two samurai were on the warpath. Also, theyd probably just witnessed the pair of us kill a thousand-odd aliens each, which I imagined was a decent way of instilling a sort of primal respect in someone. Are you going to ditch the armour? Gomorrah asked. I thought about it for about a second. Id rather not. Think I can ride on the hood? That would be exceptionally stupid, but I wont stop you, Gomorrah said. Try not to scratch the paint though. She opened the drivers side door and slid into the car. I hesitated for a second before raising a leg and climbing onto the hood. The muscle-car-like shape of the Fury was coming in handy since it was all sharp, aggressive angles. Right, thisll make it easier to fling bombs off the side, I said. I was feeling... dubiously confident in my lack of any sort of plan. Did you decide what kind of bomb you want to use? Myalis question wasnt too terrible. Well start with those acid cloud ones I think, right Gom? Its not a bad idea, she agreed. I asked Atyacus for ideas for explosives, since those are generally your area of expertise, and he found something interesting. Heat bombs. Heat bombs? Is that an acronym? I asked. It could be. Gomorrah probably didnt hear that last comment. No. They literally create heat. Lots and lots of heat in a small area. Its not exactly fast-acting, which is probably for the best. We want to burn the aliens away, not blow them up. I mean, I pretty explicitly want to blow them up, I pointed out as I tried to find better footing on the hood. This wasnt going to work. Myalis, I need magnets or something. We dont want to send bits of antithesis flying all over, Gomorrah said. This will kill everything without sending anything flying. Itll create some wind, of course, and... likely burn the entire region down, but no explosions. Myalis helpfully summoned a pair of foot-shaped pads in a box. I placed them onto the hood, then put my feet over them and they clamped on. Suddenly, my feet were locked in place. How hot are we talking here? I don''t need numbers, just... use something my pea-brain can understand. Last one? Gomorrah asked as we swung to the far end of the gap. Looks like it, I said. I flicked the last of the gas bombs over the side and watched it sail down towards the ground. It burst apart a dozen metres above and started to spread its payload around. I cant imagine that shits good for anyones health. It very much isnt. Nor is it necessarily good for the environment. Well... I didnt think Id be causing any ecological disasters today, but I guess thats part of fighting the antithesis, isnt it? Dont worry. The impact of a few tons of powerful acids seeping into the water table will be nothing compared to the environmental impact of the exotic weaponry Gomorrah has suggested. How very comforting, I muttered. Are you ready? Gomorrah asked. I nodded, then fixed my centre of gravity a little lower to make the flight easier. It wasnt too bad. My feet being pinned to the hood and my armour preventing me from being shifted around too much made the ride... almost comfortable. It was like surfing. Only Id never been surfing before, so I wasnt sure if the comparison actually worked. The biggest congregation of aliens is... about here, Gomorrah said. We slowed down fairly gently, maybe three kilometres from the wall, just over the edge of the now-ruined city clinging to the edge of New Montreal. I think we can safely drop the bomb here. I nodded along. Want to summon it, or should I? Technically, its me whos summoning it. Also, its not technically a summon at all. With a slight whump of displaced air, a large boxy machine appeared next to me, then crunched down onto the hood. The Fury tipped to the side until Gomorrah corrected for it. My paint! she said. Calm down, I shot back as I took in the device. The damned thing was the size of a fridge, with dozens of those vents that could fold open all along the sides. It was all bare steel, thick as hell and unpainted. You can probably afford three new cars after today. Now how the hell does this work? The temperature parameters are set. You just need to drop it down to ground level. Does it have a parachute? I asked. Yes.Oh. I shrugged, then grabbed the device from the sides. Keep the car even, I said before shutting off the magnets holding me in place. With those off, I was able to lift the boxy machine with a grunt of effort, then I stomped to the side of the car and with a hard shove, tossed the bomb off the edge. A trio of chutes cracked open and the sorta-bomb started to gently fall towards the ground. That was easy, I said. Then the Fury started to waver under me and I scrambled to get back to the magnets. What the hell? I think its just turbulence, Gomorrah said. From... maybe rising hot air? I wasnt an expert, but I was pretty sure that wasnt a good thing. *** Chapter Sixty-Five - Raining Fried Chicken Chapter Sixty-Five - Raining Fried Chicken Chapter Sixty-Five - Raining Fried Chicken Right, I know youve got a cool gimmick going on, and it is interesting, but just because you could maybe doesnt mean you should have... now, where exactly did you want me to slot your head? --Recorded discussion between Dial-up and Lag, 2049 *** The... I supposed it wasnt technically a bomb--started to show its impact maybe a minute after it dropped. Gomorrah moved the Fury around so that we were hovering nearby, overlooking the drop-zone. The ground below was teeming with antithesis, thousands of them squirming around and doing their thing. I saw plenty of those worm models moving about while others broke into the homes and shops lining the streets and pulled out anything biological that they could use. The heat kept increasing, but it was a slow process. The first signs that it was working came from the advertisements on the shops nearest the heat bomb. They fritzed out and failed, colourful screens and hovering holograms shutting off at random. Then the paint started to peel on the cars abandoned along the road. One of them had its battery burst, and a gush of fire roared out from the bottom of the car, catching a few model threes off guard. Not that it hurt them much. I continued to watch as the aliens around the bomb started to back away from it. A few collapsed, and one eventually caught fire, but the flames didnt seem to last long. The heat continued to grow. Cars started to warp, their plastic bodies melting apart. Posters stuck onto the nearest streetlamp burst into flame. A few wires snapped, and glass exploded apart. A mirage started to appear over that entire part of the city, grey reflections shifting and making it hard to see the asphalt around the bomb turning liquid. Damn, I said as I continued to watch. The bomb just kept going. I could see where the heat had travelled just by following its impact. The centre, nearest the bomb, had the most damage. One of the apartments next to it lit up from within. I imagined that the furniture inside was more flammable than the concrete exterior of the building was. A clothing store just half a block down turned into a roaring bonfire as everything within it combusted. The antithesis ran, but they werent running fast enough. The heat was a perfect tool for killing them. Slow acting enough that they didnt seem to understand they were in danger until their eyes were melting and their flesh catching fire. Those big worms writhed on the ground, sinking into sticky asphalt. Model ones fell out of the air, wings going bright for the few seconds they burned. And then the first building collapsed. It was right across the street from the epicentre. A big commercial place, store on the ground, offices above, lots of glass and that sort of modern minimalist design that was so popular. Glass showered down across the city as the heat pushed on. It created an expanding ring of fire. Somehow, though, there was a circle that was following the ring where nothing burned but everything melted. I imagined that had something to do with chemicals or some scientific bullshit that I couldnt understand. This is working out pretty well, I said. Im enjoying it, Gomorrah said. I snorted. Of course she was. The pyromaniac was probably getting off on this. A lot of them were heading my way, and from the heat I was feeling through my armour, it wasnt hard to guess why. Ah, shit, Gomorrah head back a bit. Keep an eye on the skies. Alright, Gomorrah said. Do you think you can find a place where I can pick you up? Well find something, I said as I started to run across the rooftop. I reached the edge and leapt off. My jumpjets hissed and I sailed over the gap between two buildings. I caught sight of a nearly empty street below. Just a few lingering aliens who glanced up to watch me slip by. Cat, Gomorrah said. Theyre heading our way. The Fury rumbled past above me. The car usually purred as it moved but now that sound was replaced by a nasty grinding that I imagined meant the car would need fixing. I landed, still running, and spun around to see behind me. Gomorrah wasnt wrong. There was a whole flock of birds darting my way, enough to darken the skies. My railguns fired, pinning two model elevens in mid-flight. Only one of them had the common courtesy to die. I raised my bullcat and held down the trigger. Didnt need to aim when there were so many targets. The birds werent my only problem though. I stared as the roof of the building Id been on caught fire. Catherine, I would suggest moving with a little more alacrity. Youre right on the edge of the temperature range your armour can handle. Oh, come on, I said as I spun around and took off sprinting. I didnt want to get eaten. I wanted to get cooked alive inside my armour even less. I shot over the gap between the building I was on and the next without even needing the boost from my jumpjets. My feet crunched on a gravel-covered rooftop and I turned hard to avoid a solar-panel set up in the middle of the rooftop. It was getting warmer. A black blur zipped past my head and I ducked, even if it was too late. The model one that had missed me crashed onto the ground next to me, dead, its feathers entirely cooked off. More of the little models started to plummet down around me, raining out of the sky. Gomorrah! Its raining fried chicken here and Im not liking it! I found a spot, she said and the Fury lowered itself a few buildings down. I just hoped Id make it. *** Chapter Sixty-Six - Move Faster Chapter Sixty-Six - Move Faster Chapter Sixty-Six - Move Faster Q: Can you choose not to be a samurai? A: Yes and no. A Vanguard can choose to retire at any time. But removing the AI-brain-interface is impossible without harming the user. Q: What are some common mistakes samurai make at the beginning? A: Either over or under spending on points. Points are a resource, learning how to manage them is part of learning how to be an effective Vanguard. Q: How do AI view each other? A: Usually with cameras. Q: Since AI are artificial, are you afraid of dying?Ge?t latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om A: Humans are nothing more than lucky collections of star dust. Are you? -- Curated Q&A with Lyvalis, one of the first Protector AI on Earth, 2026 *** I had three gaps to clear to get to Gomorrah. That meant two rooftops, then the one the Fury was currently parked on and waiting for me. The roof I was on at that very moment though, was melting. It was covered in those cheap flat panes of non-reflective solar panelling. The surface layer of plastic was turning sticky, and each step I took crunched as I broke through the solar cells. My shoulder-mounted guns spun around and fired behind me. I couldnt see what they were targeting, but I could hear it as bodies thumped onto the ground around me. You need to move faster if you wish to make it. Trying, I grunted between gasps. I wanted to be a little more snarky than that, but snark required breath, and I was all out of that. The air was so hot and muggy that even with my suit doing what it could to regulate things it was still a chore to breathe. I came onto the first gap and lunged. My jumpjets fired off and I sailed across a narrow street, one leg coming up before me to make it so that Id land at a sprint. At that moment I had hanging in the air, I glanced down between the buildings. It was interesting to see what the mounting heat was doing. Some windows had burst open and raging fires were burning within, with tongues of flame kissing the sides of the buildings. Other spots looked nearly intact. Maybe the glass they had was tougher, or less likely to melt. Hundreds of AC units were melting out of the windows they were jammed into. Most were made of cheap plastic which could very much not endure the kind of heat we were putting on them. My foot met the next building and I kind of bounced a bit before I really took off. With a grunt, I vaulted over some vents and then cursed as I had to go around an animated billboard that was fritzing out hard. A couple of model ones slammed into the side of the board, cracking it more than it already was. My guns thumped again, and I shifted as I noticed the recoil pushing me forwards just a bit. Whatre you shooting? You currently have several large flying models chasing after you. The AC was blasting, I noted idly. Gomorrah used a few non-church-approved words and we shot upwards. The car sounded... off. I didnt know nearly enough about hovercars to say how, but I knew that a few things were busted with the Fury. That was stupid, Gomorrah said. I agree, I replied as I kept hugging the seat. Do you need to drive so fast? Yes. My railguns deployed, but not to shoot. Instead they reached up and pressed against the ceiling, giving me a couple more points of contact. That was only somewhat reassuring. Gomorrah was flying as if I wasnt hanging halfway out of her car, and while I trusted her, my trust in her was only a bit stronger than my grip on the carseat. Gom? I asked. One second, she said. We started to slow down, then I felt us dropping. There was a thumping from nearby, guns going off, and I winced as the Fury shook. An explosion had gone off nearby. Just the walls anti-air, she said. Thanks. I was dying to know, I said. Im slipping Gomorrah. Its fine, she said. I think its very not fine! The car stopped and Gomorrah looked down at me. Cat. What? You can let go. Were hovering over the wall. Its a metre below us. I paused, considered her words, then lowered my leg down until it hit something solid. Oh, I said before I lowered my other foot and then let go of the seat. I was standing right atop the wall, just a couple of sections away from the gap, which had closed noticeably since wed left. Stepping back, I left room for Gomorrah to lower the Fury. Gomorrah stepped out of her car, then walked to the back and inspected the back where the steel was crumpled in. Thats... thats not going to be easy to fix, she said. I shook my head, then patted her on the shoulder. Its alright. We made plenty of points today, Im sure all the squished parts are replaceable. Might as well replace the whole car, she muttered. Then she rose up and shrugged. Guess Ill be getting a new one. Wow. That was fast. That was pragmatic, she said before turning back towards where wed come from. The city was melting. Even from the wall I could trace the growing circle of destruction just from the spreading cloud of smoke on the inner edge and the crumbling buildings in the centre. We made a bit of a mess, havent we? Hmm. Not as satisfying as actual fire, she said. *** Chapter Sixty-Seven - Becoming Strong Enough Chapter Sixty-Seven - Becoming Strong Enough Chapter Sixty-Seven - Becoming Strong Enough How many samurai does it take to defend a city from an incursion? At least one. They just need to be strong enough. --Menage a Trois, after the Quebec City Incursion of 2035 *** Now what? I asked as I looked over the burning city. Gomorrah shifted. Ive turned off the heat generator. Itll still continue to spread for a while, but without an actual source, it should all slow down. I nodded along. That was probably for the best. Didnt want to see New Montreal burning down because wed left the oven on. Im guessing all of this is going to have some sort of consequence, isnt it? Maybe, Gomorrah said. We might have found an effective way of wiping a hive out without too many horrible side-effects. A shorter skyscraper nearer to the middle of the burn twisted, its frame, which was visible since the rest had burned off, bent like cooked spaghetti noodles under the weight of the rest of the building. The rumble didnt even reach us atop the wall. Im not so sure about the lack of side-effects, I said. Oh, weve destroyed half a city, sure, but theres no nuclear radiation, no dangerous biological matter, and once the area cools down in... a week or two, then itll technically be inhabitable again. They might even be able to scrape off the melted metal and recycle some of it. I hummed. Yeah, I get it. Cant imagine deploying this kind of thing all over the place though. Plus most hives will be underground, right? Actually, hives in non-contested areas tend to be out in the open. Or nearly so. It makes it easier for antithesis drones to bring materials to the hive and for the hive itself to collect energy from the sun and wind. So, what, we burn the planet, root out the buried hives afterwards? I asked. Only if you wish to make the planets environment entirely uninhabitable. The heat bomb you deployed today will increase the planet-wide temperature for the day by a sizable fraction of a percent. Not enough to be directly dangerous, but if repeated it may be enough to destabilise the planetary ecology. Well try not to burn the entire planet, Gomorrah said. It didnt sound as reassuring as she hoped, not coming from an obvious pyromaniac. Why are you looking at me like that? Im wearing a helmet, you cant see my expression, I pointed out. Think of it as a quick way to grow. Plenty of new points, lots of opportunities to test new weapons and weapons platforms. Even whatever mistakes you made can now be corrected before youre being relied on to secure a city on your own. Gomorrah, Stray Cat, youre both well on your way to being tier-three samurai. Im afraid you havent had quite as much time to grow, Crackshot cowboy, but your time will come. Ah, uh, thanks, sir, Jimothy said. Anyway. Get some rest. All three of you, Laserjack said. I cant give you orders, but I can give you advice. You need rest. Things will get worse before they get better, so take the time you can now to catch up on sleep, to buy new gear, and to relax. Youll appreciate it later. I glanced back and up. The sky was turning to night already. I hadnt noticed it, being so close to the glow of the city and with the many pillars of smoke obscuring the sky more than usual. So, we get a night off, huh? I asked. No. A day. Ive seen your records, whats public at least. Youve been a samurai for barely more than a week, with no more than half a day of inaction in that entire time. Your AI hasnt flagged you for burn out or anything of the sort, so I imagine you could keep going for a while, but this global incursion might last longer than that and we dont need you losing your edge before things get really complicated. Laserjack chuckled darkly. Dont worry. There will be plenty more aliens to kill once youre done. I wanted to argue. It would feel... wrong to stop. But then, yeah, I could use a day off. Just time with Lucy, with the kittens, getting used to the new place. I probably had enough points to furnish the whole home in expensive alien stuff. Thank you, Laserjack, Gomorrah said. I, ah, I think Im going to stick with the PMCs for a bit, Crackshot said. I havent done as much as you two. My bits not as big, so I wont get tired just yet. I can take it. That seems reasonable for now, just remember to take a break before you break, Laserjack said. Call me if theres anything. If I cant answer right away, well, the worlds ending, but Ill call back as soon as I can. And with that, the line went dead, at least with him. Nice fella, Crackshot said. On that note, thank you ladies, but Ive got to run to keep up. I need a minute to buy a few things before we set out. See ya! We said our quick goodbyes, then it was just me and Gomorrah. So, I said. Yes, Gomorrah said. She reached up, then paused before touching her mask. My god, Im going to have to talk to Franny. I grinned. Im sure it wont be too bad, I said. I didnt want to pry into my... best friends love life... but I one-hundred percent wanted to pry. If you need help, Lucys awesome with romance stuff. Shes discreet too. Which meant she wouldnt tell anyone but me. Gomorrah sighed. Want me to drop you off? Did you want to drive out of your way so that it would take longer to get back home to confront Franny? I asked. Shut up, Cat. *** Chapter Sixty-Eight - Getting Home Chapter Sixty-Eight - Getting Home Chapter Sixty-Eight - Getting Home Samurai are horny bastards, I swear. I think its all the action. It gets their blood pumping like nothing else. -Madam Acrais, high-class brothel owner, 2045 *** I ended up figuring out my own way home. I wanted to ride along with Gomorrah, but there was no way my armour would fit in the Fury unless I hung off the side again and... no, I wasnt in the mood for that kind of thing. I did want to be close to Gomorrah. She was twitchy and a little worried, even after I tried to reassure her that everything would be fine. Some things a girl just had to tackle on her own though, that included confronting a possible romantic interest. I told Gomorrah that we had extra rooms over at my new place, and that she was always welcome to come over and spend the night, or even just call to rant if thats what she needed. I didnt want to be a poor friend, so I was going to support Gomorrah however I could. I just didnt want to overstep either. Franny seemed like a good match for Gomorrah, so maybe things would work out. At least, I hoped they would. Gomorrah deserved a good time, or maybe her own version of Lucy. Someone to ground her and for her to return home to. Speaking of which. I sighed as my bike came around and landed with a thump onto the top of the wall. I was a bit bulkier in my armour, so it was tricky to sit atop it, but I still managed to fit. I couldnt get my foot on the pedals without spreading my knees way out though, so I left the flying to the autopilot and Myalis. So, I asked as we took to the air and headed towards New Montreal proper. A new shadow was cast against the suburbs from the massive new wall. What was all of that worth? In terms of experienced gained, or in terms of something more quantifiable, like your point total? I chuckled. In terms of points, I think, I said as we flew around a skyscraper. I noted that there wasnt quite as much traffic as usual. More cop cars hovering around too, but they dutifully ignored me as I flew by. Current Point Total: 98,845 I stared at the number for a while, then shook my head. Are you serious? Like, twelve hundred away from six-figures? Had you expended less ammunition firing at the spaces between enemies you would have just enough points to reach one hundred thousand. My grip on the handles tightened. Yeah, fine. I''ll practice my aim. Maybe... maybe get one of those brain implants to learn how to aim. Youll need to work to convince me though. Noted. If you want more points, you could turn around and fly back out of the city. It shouldnt be too difficult to find a small pocket of antithesis to wipe out. Nah. Laserjack was right, I need a break. I could feel the weariness in my bones. So much adrenaline, for such a long period. I was burnt out. What I needed was a warm meal and about twelve hours of sleep. What I wanted was a cool room with Lucys warm body and twelve hours in bed, most of which werent spent sleeping. Hey, I said from the doorway. She jumped and looked up to me, and in that instant I saw unfamiliar stress lines fading from the corners of her eyes. Cat! she shouted before darting across the room. I laughed and met her halfway with a tight hug. I missed you, I said. She hugged me tighter, then pulled back. Her eyes darted across my features, taking me in. Are you okay? she asked. Tired, I admitted. It wouldnt do to lie to Lucy, shed just find out and be disappointed. I really did miss you. It was a long day. No injuries? she asked. Then her hands roamed, but not in a pleasant way, she was just checking to see if I was all there. Wait, this isnt the same arm. Oh, right, this is new, I said with a grin. I raised my new cybernetic hand, then turned on one of its primary features. The room filled with a low buzz. It vibrates. Lucy shook her head. I could tell she was amused, but she pushed past that anyway. What happened to your other one? Well... my old armour wasnt up to snuff. I got newer, better armour, but the arm was damaged so... yeah. The whole story would come out, but I wasnt ready for that. Lucy, being Lucy--which just meant that she was perfect--caught on. Well have to put the new arm through its paces then. Technically, youre... one sixth virgin now, you know? I dont think thats how it works, I said with a laugh. What have you been up to? Making stuff? Lucy nodded, then skipped back away from me. That almost ended when she tripped over nothing and had to swing her arms for balance. She, of course, pretended that didnt happen, then struck a pose. What do you think? she asked. She was in a t-shirt with a very low hem, almost a nightgown, really. The front said Cats Got My Tongue with a stylized cat head behind it. She was also wearing thick white thigh-highs that stopped a handspan above her knee, right at the thickest part of her thigh. There was a very delicious thigh squish at the top. I made both of these, she said with a bit of a wiggle added. Thats really nice, I said, honestly. She bounced over, then pulled me down a little so that she could whisper in my ear. I was going to make lingerie, but youre here already, so these two things are all I made... and all Im wearing too. Oh, I said. God, I loved Lucy. *** Interlewd Four Interlewd Four Interlewd Four Franny was waffling back and forth between being more angry than shed ever been before and worrying herself sick. The roiling emotions were twisting around in her gut, and she was pretty sure that if she continued to feel this way, shed be sick. The church was too calm, which didnt help. Earlier in the day she had chores to do, tasks that she could focus on to the detriment of all else so that she could push her worries back. The people Delilah--Gomorrah, she supposed--had saved from the sewers still needed help getting sorted, then the massive incursion had started and the church got to work sorting supplies and getting ready to provide a few temporary shelters. Those shelters had remained empty for the moment. The incursion had, according to what shes read, been stopped at the walls. Delilah had been there, risking her life against overwhelming odds. Franny had stared at too many drone-cam videos of the waves of aliens charging the gap in the walls. Shed even seen Delilahs flames burning them down. They were hard to miss. Then the call. Franny wanted to punch Delilah in the nose. She stomped through the church, past a few senior nuns who gave her space and then through the familiar corridors of the great building that had been her home and school her entire life. The worry twisted in her gut again, and this time she wasnt sure if it was just her worrying about Delilahs safety or if it was more worry about the damnable call. It hadnt lasted long. Delilah had overridden all of Frannys questions, which she supposed was fair. Delilah was a samurai now, she wasnt the cute bumbling girl that followed Franny around like a lost puppy anymore, she was so much more than just that now, even if Franny missed that about her best friend. Then Delilah had told Franny that she might die, and that she might, maybe, be in love with her. Where are you going, young mis-- Sister Margaret froze as Franny locked eyes with her. The older woman might have clued into the naked mix of conflicting feelings Franny was freely wearing. In either case, she shut up, picked up her habit skirts and walked off in a hurry. Franny closed her hands into fists, then looked around for a place to calm down. She had a bad reputation with the sisters already for being something of a hothead and for disregarding quite a few rules. Usually for good reason, but that didnt always excuse her. When she was younger shed gotten her share of switchings for her attitude. Now she was older and strong enough that last time theyd tried, shed stolen the switch and given Sister Maeve a real reason to complain. Grumbling to herself, Franny opened one of the doors in the corridor and peeked within. It was one of the classrooms, one she recognized. Theyd done math in here once. The room had a few rows of old presswood desks and windows that would have overlooked the city if they werent covered in a blurry film. Franny shut the door behind her, then she stood by the front of the room and focused on breathing. Delilah, she whispered. The name came out of her with both frustration and longing. She loved Delilah. Of course she did. For years they were the best of friends. Shed defended and helped Delilah countless times. They gossiped together, they pulled pranks together, theyd cried on each others shoulders and they had both seen enough of each others most embarrassing moments to write entire books about them. Did she love Delilah though? Franny growled and kicked the teachers desk with her very not-nun-like steel-toed combat boots. Right then, she didnt have any sort of love for her blonde friend. What kind of bitch drops that kind of bomb on someone before jumping to their death, she grumbled as she opened up a news site on her augs. There was a site dedicated to tracking samurai-related news in and around New Montreal. Theyd announced the death of Nomad earlier. Franny was dreading the idea of seeing an article about Gomorrah on there. She didnt know what shed do if that was how she learned that Delilah was dead. She had some passing worry for Gomorrahs new weirdo of a friend too, that Stray Cat girl who was clearly insane and probably not the best influence on Gomorrah. Had the confession been her idea? That woman was a raging lesbian if Franny ever saw one. Shed kick her ass too, if she could. Once, not so very long ago, she thought of samurai as basically saints. She hadnt realized how much of the church''s coolaid she had drunk until Delilah became one herself. It was hard to think of someone as a saint when you had vivid memories of that person as a preteen waking you up at two AM because theyd had an accident and needed help covering it up. Franny paused, then she kicked the desk again. It felt good. There was no news about Gomorrah. She groaned. Was it better to have no news than to find bad news waiting for her? She didnt know, and she didnt want to find out. The door clicked, and Franny spun around, an excuse on her tongue already. She had just kicked the desk a few times. She might have been frustrated, but she understood that it was a little immature. Then Delilah stepped into the room and gently closed the door behind her. Her friend wasnt in her samurai gear. It was a strange detail to notice, but Franny couldnt miss it. Delilah was in one of the skirts Franny had bought for her. A knee-length dark blue thing that showed off her calves in a way that had made the sisters look on disapprovingly before Delilah became Gomorrah. She had a blouse on, which was sticking to her skin, especially around her shoulders where Delilahs wet hair was draped down. The blouse was part of their old uniform, with a little necktie and all, though Delilah had left it undone. Franny stared at her best friend and Delilah, in turn, stared at the floor. She stepped up to Delilah, then without thinking, slapped her friend across the face. Then, with a suppressed sob, she hugged Delilah close, squeezing her for all she was worth. They stood there for a while. Franny holding Delilah close and soaking in her presence. The worry was bleeding off of her, she could almost feel the knots in her gut untangling as she held onto her friend. Delilahs scent filled Franny. It was so familiar, so nice and... Franny stepped back from Delilah just as Delilahs hands started to hug her back. She stared at her friend, who was finally daring to meet her eyes. There was a red mark on Delilahs cheek, but she wasnt moving to touch it. Franny imagined that it stung. She squashed the guilt. So? she asked. Delilah blinked. So? she repeated. Delilah, for all that she was a bit of a shrinking violet sometimes, had really taken to the lessons they had about good posture and form, and her voice rang out with an authoritative tone. Franny knew better than to just listen to Delilahs voice to read her. The trick was her friends eyes, they might as well be signboards telling the world what Delilah was really thinking. At least, they were for Franny. Franny stared at Delilah, and there was no missing the massive amount of guilt her friend was feeling. Worse, there was an unhealthy heaping of worry there. Franny didnt have to guess why. Delilah had just confessed before running off to maybe die. Obviously, she was fine. Probably. She had all of her limbs and didnt look hurt. The smack on her face notwithstanding, Delilah looked okay. She might have had some other injuries, and Franny would have no way of knowing with the way she was covered up, but... No, Delilah wouldnt confront Franny if she was injured. Delilah didnt like confrontations like this one. She wouldnt avoid them forever, but being injured was enough of an excuse that shed take it and know that Franny wouldnt judge her for it. It was a weird twist of logic, but it felt right to Franny. So she crossed her arms and glared at her best friend, her sister in all but blood, the girl shed go to hell and back for, and who had just.. Care to explain yourself? Delilah winced. It was just a tightening in the corner of her eyes, but it meant a lot. I... Franny, I didnt know if I would make it. Things were looking bad and. And I decided not to die with one more regret in my life. It was selfish. Im sorry. Youre sorry? Franny snapped. She took a deep breath in, and Delilah remained silent. She knew Franny well enough to know that that had just been her venting a little. Fine. So youre sorry. Did you mean it? Franny asked. Delilah glanced down, then forced herself to meet Frannys eyes. Her cheeks now both had a slight tinge of redness to them. Yes. I think. I... I dont know, but I think so. Franny raised one of her eyebrows, the sort of judgemental looks the senior nuns were very good at. Alright, tell me again. Really, Franny? Delilah asked. Franny nodded. Yes, really. I want us to be on the same page here. Delilah swallowed, closed her eyes for a moment, then shifted slightly to work off some of her nervous energy. Then she took a calming breath and met Frannys gaze. I love you, she said. They stared at each other for a long time, the three words floating in the air between them, spoken and impossible to take back. Franny felt her face warming up. She knew that her freckles would make any amount of blushing she did very obvious. Delilahs cheeks werent any better. So Franny decided to switch the focus to something else. Since when are you gay? she asked. Delilah stiffened a little. I dont know if I am? she asked. Franny blinked. What? I talked to Atyacus about, well, Delilah made a vague gesture between them. She seemed as glad about the change in subject as Franny felt. Then her words registered and Franny felt a pang in her heart. Delilah came to her when she needed to talk about stuff. That was their thing. Theyd talk about their problems, about their silly dreams, theyd gossip and complain together while huddled up on the churchs roof, or in the kitchens when no one else was around. Franie supposed that she shouldnt be too hurt. Delilah could hardly come to her to talk about feeling... that way about her. That would have been strange. And the AI stuck in her brain was as good a candidate as any for sharing things with, Franny supposed. It still stung a little. What did he say? Franny asked. Delilah licked her lips, the motion catching Frannys attention for a moment. He said that, well, he can see my brain chemistry. And my augs allow him to see out of my eyes. I dont think Im gay? Franny blinked. You are aware that Im a woman, right? Yes, Im very aware, Delilah said. I think he just said that, I guess the term would be more, something akin to being attracted to, well, you, more than just women in general. Delilah glanced away after that particular confession. Franny worked her jaw. She wasnt sure what to say to that. It was flattering, certainly. She pretended not to feel the fluttering in her stomach. I... Im sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Delilah said. I can go, if you want. I know its a lot to spring on you, I shouldnt have-- No, Franny said. She sighed. Damn. You know Id rather know this than not, right? Yeah, I know you, Delilah said. She smiled over to Franny. Just another, normal smile, like Franny had seen from Delilah a million times. Somehow though, this one made her feel different. Yeah, you do, Franny said. There was a long silence. It wasnt exactly uncomfortable, but it wasnt great either. Franny knew herself too. She was... probably not the ideal nun. She was by far too violent, too impulsive by half, and she cared more about helping people than preaching. She was also, she was willing to admit to herself, a little bit attracted to women. She stared Delilah up and down. Her friend was... well, frankly, Delilah was unfairly attractive. Franny liked women, she loved Delilah like a sister. There wasnt much of a leap to make to go from one idea to the other, smash them together, and make Delilah very happy. Franny wasnt sure if she wanted to take that step. Or maybe she wanted to but was worried of what it would mean for her, and for Delilah. Worse, things had... changed. Franny wasnt sure she wanted to admit it to herself, but if Delilah had confessed just a month or two ago, before Delilah became a samurai, things would be different. A month ago, Delilah still needed Franny. Franny was her protector and friend and more. I really dont know, Franny said. Delilah very awkwardly gestured below her stomach. It was only once here. I was terrified of being caught, and I never told anyone, obviously. I just went up to a desk and... moved against it. You humped a desk? Franny asked. Yes, I humped a desk, Delilah said flatly. Franny grinned. And thats the most youve ever done? Delilah squirmed. Well, Ive tried it with my skirt raised. She wondered what to say next, before the silence stretched for too long. Okay, then do that, Franny said. She gestured with a wave to the rows of desks. Its nothing you havent done before. Delilah looked at her, then the desks, then back. What if someone walks in? What if someone walked in last time? Franny asked. Her friend conceded the point with a sideways nod. I guess. I... fine. I suppose this is just a small thing. From everything Ive heard this is really tame. Were not even touching, Franny said. We couldnt go slower if we tried. Delilah chuckled. I guess not. It still feels fast. She raised a hand to stall Franny, who was about to suggest the stop. No, its fine. Its... after what I did to you today. Pulling that on you all of a sudden. You dont owe me for that, Franny said. But I want to, Delilah replied. She stepped around one of the desks so that she was facing Franny from behind it. Franny very much didnt fail to notice that it was her own desk. The sisters sat her in front so that they could always keep an eye on her. Carefully, Delilah stepped up to the desk, then pressed herself into the corner of it. The rounded edges pushed into her skirt, right at the crotch and Delilah shifted her hips forwards. Her face was practically steaming. Then, very deliberately, she slid back, the corner making her skirt ride up just a little as the material bunched up. This is what I did, Delilah said. While thinking of me? Franny asked. Her stomach roiled, and she was glad she was leaning against the desk because her legs felt a little weak. Yes, Delilah said simply. While thinking of you. Was that all? Franny asked. As far as she knew, this was about the most tame sexual act anyone could do. It was barely masturbation at all. I... sometimes, Id grab my own chest, Delilah said. Do that, Franny said. I mean, please? Delilah sniffed, then raised her right hand to her breast and squeezed. Delilah was always more endowed than Franny. Shed been a little jealous once. More recently, as she grew up, she always admired Delilahs features. Shed never expected to see Delilah groping herself that way. C-continue rubbing, Franny said. Delilah complied. Her hips moved up, then down. Up. Then down. She added a bit of a roll to her motions, just as if she was tracing a big oval with her hips while the desk dug into the fabric of her skirts. Her hands didnt remain idle. They squeezed and pinched at her breast, just the one hand, and never fast. Just a careful taunting of flesh through her blouse and bra. Franny, Delilah whispered as her eyes closed. Franny gulped. She felt very warm as she carefully repositioned herself against the teachers desk. Still, her attention never left Delilah with her slow, careful gyrations. Delilah glanced up to Franny, a question in her eyes. Did Franny want her to continue? Franny nodded, and that simple gesture sent goosebumps down her spine. There was so much wrong with that simple action. She was ordering a saint to do...that. She continued to watch as Delilah rubbed herself, mind whirling. Then Delilah stopped with a gasp. Franny listened, then she heard the same thing Delilah must have. Footsteps, coming down the corridor. More than one, even. Someone opened a door further down, into one of the other classrooms across the hall, if Franny had to guess. Theyd be caught. Or Delilah would, at least. Franny looked at the way Delilah was frozen, then she whispered across the room. Dont stop. Delilah stared at her, then at the door. Franny could hear her heart beating over the approaching footsteps. The desk Delilah was rubbing herself against shifted as Delilah started over. It was slower, certainly, and more tense. They both listened as footsteps grew closer, then continued right by. Another door opened, closer this time. The classroom right next to this one. Delilah continued to rub herself, as shed been told to, and Franny couldnt stop the goosebumps rising across her arms and neck, nor the queasy feeling in her stomach. Then the door to the next classroom closed and someone walked right by theirs without ever stopping in. Delilah let out a relieved sigh. So did Franny. Did... did you ever do more? she asked. Delilah paused, but just for a moment. She resumed the rubbing as she spoke. I did, eventually, she said. The material... you dont feel much through it. Oh, Franny said. Delilahs free hand, which had been holding onto the desk, slid down to her side and started to fist into her skirt. She raised it, bit by bit. Franny kept staring as more and more of Delilahs long legs were exposed. Then Delilah backed her rear up from the edge of the desk long enough to flip the front of her skirt over it. Franny inhaled sharply. She hadnt seen anything. She could smell something though, maybe. It might have been her imagination. Delilah fixed her skirt atop the table so that it wasnt too bunched up, then her free hand gripped the edge and she paused, shifting her hips as if to realign them. Franny imagined that without the skirt in the way, it would just be Delilahs panties between her and the desk. Delilah bit her lower lip, then pressed herself forward again. She took in a shaky breath, then pulled back. The motions started languid and slow, but as Franny watched, Delilah sped up. Her grip on the table turned white as it tightened. She moved back and forth for a minute. Then two. Her eyes were half-lidded, her mouth open in a little o. Then Delilah started to pick up the pace. Franny, she whispered again. She undid a button on her blouse and slipped her hand in. Franny didnt fail to notice her bra slipping down, or the way Delilahs nipples were erect under the thin fabric. Franny continued to watch even as she herself warmed up. The heat traveled down, and she pressed her legs together. There was no ignoring the sticky heat between her legs. It was as if someone was gently pouring her full of warm syrup. Her reverie was jolted hard as the desk Delilah was using squeaked. The metal-tipped leg screeched across the floor. Delilah was red-faced, even her ears glowed. Her hand pulled out of her blouse and came even with the other so that she gripped the desk on two sides. Then, to Frannys amazement, Delilah raised a leg up and onto the school chair. Her perfect posture was gone. She was rubbing herself along the length of the desk, breathing so hard it verged on panting. Her eyes were closed and every hard thrust filled the room with a tiny squeak as the desk was slammed forwards. Franny, Franny, Franny, Delilah whimpered with every hump. Frannys entire being froze. She was no more than a drunk passenger whod fallen onto the tracks, unable to do anything but stare as the train came rushing to her. She caught glimpses of Deliliahs breasts bouncing through the opening in her blouse, of her long leg, exposed by the way Delilah had raised her skirts, of Delilahs face, where in her ecstasy and with the repetition of Frannys own name, her dearest friend, always stuck up and proper, failed to notice a thin line of drool next to her mouth. Her friend squeaked, her back went rigid, and she stopped her hard thrusts. Not entirely, she was still swaying back and forth on the edge of the desk, but the energy was gone. Delilah panted and her eyes fluttered open. They stared at each other, Delilah with mounting mortification, Franny... she wasnt sure what emotion was on her face, but her mouth was open and her cheeks felt warmer than theyd ever felt before. Delilah broke eye contact first. She wiped a hand over her face, brought her leg down quickly, then adjusted her skirt with a quick shimmy of her hips. Her friend paused, and for a moment her face reddened before she bent down, both hands going under her skirt for a moment and shifting about. Did she have to readjust her panties? Frannys ears couldnt hear much over the drumming of her heart. Franny took in her friend, who was trying to make herself presentable. She pulled her bra back on straight, then buttoned her shirt up and tucked it back into her skirts waistband. With a quick comb through her hair, it was almost impossible to notice that shed been doing anything. There was only that lingering scent and... They both looked at the desk. The corner, nearly the entire edge, was wet. That was-- Franny started. Im sorry-- Delilah said at the same time. They stopped. Franny gestured for Delilah to go first, and her friend took a moment to control her breathing. Im... sorry you saw that. I... I lost myself, and I must have looked like some sort of freak. No, Franny said. She took a long step towards Delilah, then stopped. There was definitely a lot of wetness clinging between her legs. That was... probably not a surprise. If Franny ever doubted whether or not she found Delilah attractive, then, well, no, she could put that doubt to rest. I mean. Im happy you showed me that, Franny said. Delilahs blush returned, and she failed to meet Frannys eyes. Usually it takes a lot longer, she muttered. Franny swallowed. Was it being seen that made it better, or Frannys presence? The fact that it was a punishment of sorts? Franny... honestly couldnt wait to find out. I think, Franny said. That weve, ah, done nearly enough for one day. Enough pushing, I mean. Nearly enough? Delilah asked. She was as sharp as usual. Franny nodded and came closer. She breathed through her nose and felt a little lightheaded. She recognized the smell. From Delilahs own room, no less. Did that mean... she pushed those thoughts aside. Nearly. I think, maybe next time we can do the reverse. Or maybe I can... provide something better than a desk? Delilah nodded slowly. But... I know I said you would be in the lead but... can we make the first time we go... in special? she asked. Okay, Franny agreed. If it was special to Delilah, then it was special. Though, perhaps she was looking forward to that too. Then, after a moments pause to muster up her bravery, Franny stepped right up to Delilah and took her friends face in both of her hands. Delilah looked at her in shock, but there was trust there, trust and want and maybe some lingering lust. I guess that makes us girlfriends, then? Franny asked. The word, or maybe the position made her lightheaded. I guess so, Delilah said. Then she said nothing at all, because Franny captured Delilahs mouth with hers. *** Chapter One - Good Investments Chapter One - Good Investments Chapter One - Good Investments Was spending some precious points on a kiddy pool a good investment? No. Did I do it anyway? Yes. Was I currently sitting in my brand-new pre-inflated kiddy pool, shirtless and with only some panties on while watching the news with some 500%-daily-sugar-intake drink in hand? Also yes. When I gave Lucy a bunch of resources and told her to furnish up the house, that had apparently included getting a TV wide enough that even sitting across the room from it, I had to turn my head to see the entirety of it. It was very extra and I loved it. Exactly the kind of stuff I expected some super-rich celebrity to have in their house and that Id dreamed of having one day. Now all I was missing was a useless private jet, and a butler. Or maybe some maids? I could get a maid uniform for Lucy, shed love that. The door to the room opened and I prepared to chuck my can in case it was a kitten walking in. Instead, it was Lucy with a tablet held up to her chest. She paused halfway in to read the little door-hanger sign Id left hooked to the door. Dont Tits Open Inside? she read. What? No, youre supposed to read it from the top down, then left to right, I said with a demonstrative wiggle of my can. Dont open, tits inside.Ge?t latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om And thats supposed to keep people away? Lucy asked. I shrugged, then grinned as I noticed Lucys attention straying downwards. Hell yeah. Whats up? I asked. She closed the door with a click and moved over. Why are you in a kiddy pool naked-- Im not naked, I interrupted. --Without me? she continued. I think my bad aim had offended her, somehow. I had been planning on working on that for a while anyway, so no harm in actually trying. Ill get to it, I said. I let my hands drop with a pair of dismissive splashes. Was I being a petulant little shit? Yes, yes I was. It was nearly noon, on my only day off in a long while, and I had planned on doing nothing of import all day. Id even set some rules for myself, such as the you can only wear less clothes, not more which had so far served to make the day passively entertaining and relaxing. Ill make sure you do, Lucy said. If I wasnt so sore Id make a game of it or something. I nodded. Grasshopper had kind of blueballed us yesterday. The making up of that afterwards was great, but I wasnt ready for more just yet. Maybe in an hour or three. I need to go over my purchases too. Cant just spend everything on cool furniture. Lucy nodded. You should. Your armour looked a bit... cooked last night. Youll need something better. Yeah, thats on the list. Im thinking of getting something big too. For moving around. I gestured to the TV. Looks like things around New Montreal are cooling down. Literally and otherwise. That massive heat bomb Gomorrah and I had dropped next to the city had made the news. Some environmentalists were whining about it, others were complaining that it was a massive and unnecessary destruction of property and infrastructure. But most commentators were happy that they hadn''t been eaten by plant monsters overnight, so the mood was pretty grateful overall. Other cities werent able to complain as much, with the media people being on the same menu as everyone else as far as the antithesis were concerned. Some places had come out of it better than we had. Other places had gotten utterly screwed. The full tally wasnt out yet, but it seemed that even just a couple of days into it, this global incursion was probably one of the biggest losses of human life in a short span since the first world war. Then the news cut out to an ad for burgers with free at-home delivery. Okay, Im gonna get this training shit out of the way, we can do the rest of this homework stuff later, alright? Lucy pulled her feet out of the water and wiggled them dry. Sure, she said. Want help with that? Either part? Uh, yeah, I cant remember where I put that matrix stuff. I probably shouldnt shell out for another when I still have one thats perfectly usable. Oh, I know where it is, give me a minute! Lucy darted out of the room, slipped on wet feet, then caught herself with a giggle by the door. Runnings complicated, you know. I nodded, then waited for the door to click shut before I started to stand up. Now, where could I find a towel? I think I was supposed to feel a bit guilty about relaxing at home while the world burned, but it felt so distant. The people dying were far from home, and I had a whole heap of little distractions to deal with between now and then. Id feel guilty about it later, when it became my problem to fix all of the worlds many, many issues. For now, I was busy debating on whether or not to wear a shirt. *** Chapter Two - Finally Getting Good Chapter Two - Finally Getting Good Chapter Two - Finally Getting Good Mesh Sex is the best, no worries about birth control, theres always someone willing, and no matter the kink, you will find a group of enthusiastic weirdos to talk to about it! --An Enthusiastic Meshizen, 2039 *** I wasnt about to go gallivanting in the matrix while in the kiddie pool. Nah, I was going to do that on the bed. I laid down, fiddled with my augs until I found my Full-Dive System, and I flicked it on. There was that weird sensation of sneezing backwards as I dove in. One of these days Ill convince you to buy better neural augmentations. Then you wont need to set up all of these extraneous things. I told you, Im not super fond of having my brain messed with. Also, where am I loading into? I asked. For the moment, I was a shapeless nothing in a void, which... while not exactly unpleasant, wasnt nice either. Then the world turned on, as it were, and I found myself in a room with cement walls all around. There were a few tables to one side, then a couple of booths overlooking a long, long room with some holographic targets floating at the end. They looked like glowing orange model threes, though these were entirely stationary, and a bit cartoonish. Is this the place Grasshopper wanted me to see? I asked. This is a training facility. The tablet to your right allows you to pick and choose a weapon, as well as attachments and equipment. The range is to your left. You shoot things from there. Time is slightly dilated here, so that three hours training in Mesh will count for one outside of it. Uh-huh, I said as I walked over to the little panel and picked it up. Then I stared at my hand. It was... a hand. My hand. Mostly. I squinted and noticed that the texture of the skin wasnt quite right. Right, VR bullshittery, I said. Outside of the Mesh that arm was cybernetic. I glanced down at myself, just to be sure. I looked... like me, but in a dull grey jumpsuit. The only hint of personalization was the nametag CAT over my left breast. You can hardly train with a weapon if youre not in your own skin. Yeah, I suppose, I said before tapping the panel. It lit up and I found myself with a dozen options. Assault rifles, DMRs? Bolt-Action, Handguns, Shotguns, Exotics, Im guessing these are the bigger categories for guns? How many guns are on here? All of them. When you say that, I said. A large number of gun enthusiasts have recreated nearly every weapon ever made by humanity as faithfully as they could, including many prototypes and otherwise lost weapons. The latter were designed off of existing photographs and records. All of these are available for you to play with. A smaller copy of the target appeared on the table next to me, with pinpoints showing me where Id hit it. Hey, thats... nearly a bullseye, I said. You have been improving. Though your accuracy against moving targets is still lacking. Look, I spent most of my life with just one eye. Im not tripping over myself now that Ive got working depth perception, but its still hard to tell where something is moving to. Understandable. With time the discomfort will pass and youll grow more accustomed to tracking and firing upon moving targets. Practice will, of course, help. Thats what were here for, I said. Uh, Im not feeling this gun. Its too... big? Chunky? Maybe itll feel better with power armour on, but right now, eh. I understand. The gun is limited by being a model entirely designed by humans with limited crafting capabilities. There are some very potent weapons available to you from your various catalogues. Ill definitely be needing something more potent, I said. The last little while had me running into a lot of bigger, meaner aliens. My current level of firepower wasnt keeping up with the amount of resistance the bastards I met could put up. Fighting the antithesis was something of an arms race, one that I definitely wanted to be on the winning side of. So, what do the Sunwatchers have thats decent? This one might interest you. Its actually a relatively common medium-to-short range gun. It is technically a shotgun because it fires shells and its a smoothbore gun, but I think most modern classifications would consider it a PDW or sub-machine gun based on weight and ergonomics alone. The big gun on the table disappeared, replaced by a much smaller, much sleeker weapon. Not to say that this was any less lethal. I picked up the gun and checked it out. Bullpup, with the opening for the magazine just under the stock, and with a set of holographic sights at the front and middle. The barrel was a bit bigger than the joint on my thumb, which I imagined let it pack a punch. Whats this called? I asked. And what does it fire? Its actual name is a single word whose meaning has no equal in English. It roughly translates to the captivating way a beam of light travels across the ground. As for its ammunition, this can use a number of fifteen millimetre shells. Mostly fin-stabilised discarding sabot seeking rounds with miniaturised warheads. Oh, neat. The gun had fire-modes too, and seemed compatible with my eyes software. Yeah, Ill try this out. Got all day to figure out how to shoot straight, right? *** Chapter Three - A Not So Quiet Home Life Chapter Three - A Not So Quiet Home Life Chapter Three - A Not So Quiet Home Life Samurai dont tend to show marked improvements in their abilities. At least, no more than you would expect from a normal person. They dont learn at rates that are superhuman, not unless they are specifically purchasing items to help them do so. Its this researchers opinion that this might be a good thing. Its comforting to see that anyone, if they apply themselves and are sufficiently motivated, can become just as talented as a samurai. --On the Learning Rates of Samurai, academic paper, 2026 *** I spent a good couple of hours practising with the Laser Pointer. The gun took a bit of getting used to. It didnt have the same kind of kick as my Bullcat had, but it still needed careful handling. The punch it delivered was nice though. Myalis started me small, with mid-range targets that stood still. Then she summoned an image of myself shooting and pointed out how I could change my stance to improve shooting. That... made some sense, a little. Really, the important thing was pointing the end of the barrel at what you wanted dead. How you held the gun didnt matter. Not unless you wanted to be consistent. We worked out a few kinks, Myalis proving surprisingly patient. Eventually the targets started to move around slowly, mostly from side-to-side, and I started to see the value in basically posing while aiming.Visitt for the latest updates Eventually, Myalis moved me into a digital building with concrete walls and lots of little rooms. The targets were still stationary, though they were replaced with holograms which lit up in passing. I had to turn and shoot them as quickly as I could. Myalis said that the next step would be moving targets in changing environments, with kills only awarded on immediately fatal hits, but she rattled out some statistics about my accuracy and target-finding speed, which had noticeably improved in just a couple of hours. A few more sessions like this, and Id be halfway competent, according to her. Personally, I was pretty happy. The time spent in the range had been fun too, and it didnt even leave me feeling sweaty or anything. Once we were done playing with guns, Myalis brought up one of my next big purchases. You have used two suits of armour recently. Both have been damaged. One by falling debris, the other by high-heat exposure. While you still have both of them, and they are repairable, its possible that future engagements will also lead to situations where your current armour is just not capable enough to keep you safe. Yeah, I said. I need something bigger and tougher, then? Not necessarily. Larger armoured suits do provide more space for armouring. Thicker plates of conventional materials and reactive sections as well as more room for internals generally means that the larger a suit is, the more protection it will give. Your weights pressing into my bladder, I said. Lucy laughed and rolled off of me. Fine, fine. Are you hungry? Did you cook something? I asked as I swung my legs off the side. Because if so, no. That earned me a smack to the back of the head with her pillow. Lucy scooted off the other side of our frankly too-large bed then bounced to her feet. Im starving! she declared. Lets order more trashy food than we could eat in a week. Sounds wasteful, I said as I walked over to the en-suite (with only one sink, because two was stupid). We can shove the leftovers in the fridge. Besides, have you seen how much the kittens eat? Youd think they never saw food before the way they can empty a fridge out. Maybe if they continue to eat that way, they wont all grow up to be little runts like us. Hey! I called back. Im not a runt. Youre too thin, Lucy complained. I want something to grab at and youre all bones. Then grab my bones, I snarked back as I left the washroom. I realized that one of the downsides of not having pants on was nothing to wipe my wet hands on after rinsing them off. I could have used one of the towels next to the sink, but they looked clean and almost decorative. Lucy had spent a lot of time picking them out. We ended up sitting on the bed while ordering from three different places, just picking out the items that looked tasty, which was most of them since we were both hungry. After that, I scrounged around for some clothes to wear, realised that I basically had none, and then I suffered through Lucy and Myalis buying some shirts and pants from a basic catalogue which I was obliged to model for Lucy. There was something incongruously wrong about modelling an outfit that had rips and tears in it as part of its design. We had to cut it short when one of the kittens screamed through the door that there was a nervous delivery guy waiting outside. As it turned out, deliveries were supposed to be drop-and-go, but the poor driver didnt want to just leave a stack of food at some samurais door in case something happened to it--delivery theft being an entire career as it was--so he stood there with the food and waited until I grabbed it from him and sent him on his way. And then, for the rest of that day, we ate, talked shit, and made merry. All in all, it was a pretty nice day off. *** Chapter Four - Where the Fuck is Burlington? Chapter Four - Where the Fuck is Burlington? Chapter Four - Where the Fuck is Burlington? Its unfortunate that, in times of crisis, the common man cannot trust his government and his co-citizen. Now we need to trust in these samurai. Some of them are true, red-blooded Americans, sure. But just as many of them are foreigners, strangers here to lord over gods chosen people! I say its about time we do something about it. --Pastor Loud, during his last televised broadcast, 2026 *** Very, very early in the morning, two days into my semi-mandatory break, Lucy and I were sitting in our dining room (which was still weird to think about) contemplating life, love, and fast-food fries. Why, I asked as I dabbed a sad, pitiful fry into some ketchup, Do these things always taste like shit the day after? Lucy pressed three fries of her own into a plastic container of some sort of mustard-ish stuff. It was yellow and tasted strange, but she liked it. I dont know, she complained before chewing down. These were the leftovers from two days ago. The choice stuff was all gone already. Picked over by the kittens and Rac as if they were a flock of starving scavenger birds. The burgers were the first to go, then the pastas and the chicken and rice and all the other food slowly disappeared over the course of the day. Now all that was left were six big family-sized boxes of fries and a mixed assortment of dipping sauces and packets of ketchup. We need to buy better food, Lucy said as she grabbed a few more fries. Mm, I agreed. I could have ordered something, but the effort was just too much. Honestly, it was a wonder that I was out of bed at all. Last night, Gomorrah had sent me a message, asking me if I wanted to head out today, and Id said yes. We were supposed to meet at her church in the morning, so I had diligently set an alarm and woken up early. I regretted it. Not that I didnt love spending time with Gomorrah, it was just the obligation that weighed on me. Then I got a ping from Gomorrah between one fry and the next. Huh, I said. Whats up? Lucy asked. Gomorrahs here. I sent her a quick reply, telling her to come in. If the door was locked then... well, she could figure that out, I was sure. Were here! I shouted back. The clonk-clonk of my favourite pyromancers boots echoed through the halls until she stepped into the dinning room. She was in her full regalia, all shiny black not-leather and full face expressionless mask. I thought we were going to meet this morning, she said. Hi Delilah, I said before gesturing to the fries on the table. Have you had breakfast yet? Gomorrah stared me down, hands on hips. I could just imagine the frown she was wearing at that moment. Cat, its eleven. AM? I asked, just to be sure. Yes, AM, she said. So... Im not late? Gomorrah stared some more, then she reached up and undid her mask to reveal her unamused face. She was still as pretty as ever... though there was something weird about her that I couldnt quite place. Maybe when it wasnt so early Id figure it out. Hello, Lucy, she said, much more sweetly than shed addressed me. That seemed decent enough. I took off my shirt and underthings then slid into the suit which was pleasantly cool to the touch. Then I ordered a long coat that could turn invisible on command. I didnt bother bringing a gun other than my trusty Trenchmaker. It had been with me through a lot, and I kind of trusted it to carry me through some more shit. Alright, I said as I bounced down the stairs. Im ready for... well, not whatever, but maybe some light fighting and such. Gomorrah nodded. I think well mostly be meeting people at first, she said. Is this the part where you tell me whats up? I asked. Maybe on the way over. I said I would arrive by one, and at this rate well be cutting it close. Gomorrah refit her mask, then nodded to Lucy. It was nice seeing you again, Lucy. I... Ill let Franny know that you asked about her. Im sure shed love a call though. Ah, were both in a similar situation, she said. Oh, we should start a club exclusively for the girlfriends of samurai. Gomorrah stumbled, but caught herself quickly enough. That... that might be nice. See you later. I ran over to Lucy, pulled my new helmet off, then gave her a quick smooch. See you later, I said. Be safe, she said. I nodded, then ran off to catch up with Gomorrah. Alright, so whats up? Things have been developing while we were sitting back and relaxing, she said. Not all of it good. The news seems pretty positive, which is usually a pretty bad sign, yeah, I agreed. Gomorrah nodded. We had a few more experienced samurai going around and clearing out bigger hives around most cities. And I think something like seventy percent of all cities are now in orange-green zones. Itll take a while to properly clear the surroundings, but itll get done. The big issues are the coastal cities and a few holdouts. Are we heading all the way to the coast? I asked. No. Theres a problem in Burlington. Laserjack asked if we could go over and see what we could do to help. I paused. Where the fuck is Burlington? I asked. Its a small city to the south. What used to be Vermont, now its a corpo-state for like, retirees and such. The city barely had any walls and it got overrun pretty hard. They lost a few samurai already, and now the population is holed up in half the city while they wait for help to arrive or for the antithesis to give up. So were their only hope? I asked. No, the Familys asking other samurai to pitch in too. Its just that we might be the first volunteers to arrive. Everyones busy, and most places didnt get out of things as easily as we did here. Well, thats encouraging. And why, exactly, did you tell me I didnt need to come loaded for bear? Because were just going to meet the locals, not fight, she said. Not unless something goes terribly wrong. *** Chapter Five - Leadershipping Chapter Five - Leadershipping Chapter Five - Leadershipping It takes the average samurai three incursions before they reach a level of comfort and stability with their own abilities and tools to be completely effective. Some take longer, and others are naturally inclined towards the lifestyle of a samurai. A few rare examples flake out and decide not to take part in combat and alien-hunting directly. --The Familys Guide to Working with Noobs, 2051 *** So, what do you know about the locals? I asked as I followed Gomorrah outside. I immediately put my question on hold as I took in the car sitting on my landing pad. The Fury had been Gomorrahs baby. I think the only thing she loved more than that car was fire and maybe Franny, in that order. The car sitting ahead of me wasnt the Fury, not unless Gomorrah had gone really nuts with the modifications. It looked a bit like her old ride though, but bigger and meaner. The car was stationary, but it looked like it wanted to be breaking every speed limit in the province. Four metres of pitch-black, obviously armoured skin on a chassis that reminded me of an old-timey muscle car, with sharply angled panelling. It sat low on the pad, fat wheels tucked deep within. Damn, I said. Pretty, isnt she? Gomorrah asked, clearly proud. Im calling her the Fury Resurrected. It felt like an appropriate name. Bigger engines, a better environmental control system, actual space-capable thrust, and a lot more armour than the first Fury. Wait, it can go to space? I asked. Yes, but not for long. And not very well, honestly. If I wanted something space-capable Id just buy something specifically designed for it. Im just saying, its a lot faster and can take more of a pounding. Oh, and its better armed too. Two gatling guns at the rear, a forward-firing railgun, a missile launching system and flamethrowers for up-close work. It wont be knocked out of the sky by an unlikely strike from a passing model eleven. Oh, and the interiors big enough to accommodate power armour. Oh, thats a nice change, I said. The doors to the new Fury opened up, gull-wing style, and I slid into the passenger seat while Gomorrah went around. Hey, is this real leather? Real fake leather, she said with a nod as she sat behind the wheel. The interior really was more spacious, though I still pitied anyone that had to squeeze into the back. Nice, I approved. So, are we heading straight south? Whats the plan here? Gomorrah reached to the console in the middle of the dashboard and touched a few buttons. A hovering map appeared between us, projected from a tiny pin-prick hole in the ceiling. New Montreal was impossible to miss, at least until she zoomed out and moved south across a bunch of nothing towards a city that looked a good deal smaller than ours. This is Burlington, she said. Its a fairly small city. Population: just over half a million. Theres a big university there, and not too much else. Its mostly a retiree city. So chock full of old people? I asked. Just about, Gomorrah agreed. She set the new Fury into motion and we smoothly rose up and away from my place, then we turned and started flying just under the skylanes which had the most traffic. The place is guarded by three samurai. Theyre all new. Like, very new. Because someone has to be, Gomorrah said. And Im not exactly the leadership type. You, on the other hand, are actually somewhat experienced. Im used to bullying children. So youll have no trouble with samurai, Gomorrah replied. Look, it was partly my idea, but Laserjack approved of it. Someone needs to take charge in Burlington. The samurai there now are too green, the political situation is a mess, and youre good at blowing right past those kinds of issues. Yeah, but Im... fuck, I dont know, I said. Gomorrah shook her head. You wont be alone. And I dont think anyones expecting you to be perfect at this. Just see what you can do, Ill help where I can. The Family will be redirecting reinforcements to the city before the weeks over. Thats five days from now, I said. So we just need to hold out for that long, Gomorrah said. Weve done worse, I think. Besides, were not far from home. We can drive back every day so that you can sleep in your own bed. I worked my jaw. I didnt like it. But... yeah, maybe this wouldnt be too bad. I did like giving people orders a lot more than I liked taking them. I flitted through the files until I found dossiers on all three samurai. Two men, one woman, all fresh as newborn babes. They didnt have good photos of them. By the looks of it, every picture was taken by a civilian aug and uploaded somewhere. The samurai themselves had only had very light communication with the Family so far. The first on the list was a guy in his late twenties. Whip-thin and rather scrawny. Going by the name Sprout. He seemed to be leaning towards a specialisation in biological weaponry, mostly plant-based things. That sounded outright stupid when dealing with the antithesis. Next guy didnt have a samurai name yet. He was Sprouts opposite. A big guy with heavy body mods. Couldnt see anything about his fighting style or what kind of stuff he was getting. The last, the woman, was in her thirties. The only photos they had of her were taken from afar. She had some sort of coat on, with lots of spikes on it, and seemed to be in the thick of it. They were calling her Manic. Holy crap, these are like, the dregs, I said. Gomorrah scoffed. We werent much better at the start, she said. I mean, sure, but still. Maybe I was too used to working with professional... ish samurai. Those that, if they werent professional, were at least experienced enough to make their weirdness work. This was going to be a spectacular mess, I could just tell. *** Chapter Six - Outrank Chapter Six - Outrank Chapter Six - Outrank A samurai in motion outranks everyone.Visitt for the latest updates The complexity in this situation lies in deciding if you should run with them, or in the other direction. --US Core of Special Ordnance Disposal - Technicians Manual, 2050 *** I almost fell asleep as Gomorrah drove us across the afternoon sky. We received a few warning calls as we left New Montreals flight space, mostly automated messages telling us that we were shit out of luck if some flying aliens decided to munch on us, but a few calls actually came in with actual people on the other end, again to tell us that we were on our own the moment we left the area immediately around the city. It wasnt illegal to move (after all, some folk were going to leave no matter what, and if they left, that was fewer mouths to feed) but it was pretty damned stupid to try and cross any distance while no one was around to protect you. Telling the nice concerned people that we were samurai was usually enough to reassure them that we knew what we were doing. Although one guy from an insurance place insisted that he could sell us great travel insurance and I ended up hanging up on him. I had a lot of reading to do about the situation over in Burington, but I got bored of reading reports on my augs. It wasnt exactly a strain to use the fake floating screens projected onto my eyesight via my augmentations, but it also wasnt as easy to focus on those. I could be looking at pictures of kittens or girls with nice butts. Burlington was about forty-five minutes away, if you flew in a straight line with no traffic. With Gomorrah behind the wheel testing her new Furys engine, it took ten minutes, and half of that was spent decelerating. We need to travel somewhere further, Gomorrah said. Maybe across the ocean? So that you can push the acceleration to the max? I asked. We barely hit three-fifty an hour before I had to start slowing down, she complained. This beauty can go a whole lot faster. Im talking fast enough that the planets curvature becomes an issue. I shook my head, but I was pretty happy for her. If Gomorrahs fun came from burning things and going fast, then I could get behind that. Theres the city, she said with a gesture ahead of us. I sat up straighter, pulling out of my slight slump so that I could see the place wed be dealing with, with my own flesh and blood eye. Burlington matched up to what Id seen pretty well. It was a smallish city, with a large downtown area in its southern end and a sprawl of homes and estates around that. Even from the air it was pretty obvious that this was a place for the semi-well-to-do. We flew down and through the downtown area. There was some traffic out, but it was exceptionally sparse. No call outs or warnings came as we slid to a halt over a busy road. People in hoodies and jeans were moving around, carrying boxes onto vans or shuffling around in little teams with shovels and picks. There was some organisation. People were wearing bands in different colours on their arms, or tied around their heads, and usually people with the same markings were together. Our arrival caused something of a shift, mostly because Gomorrah parked half-on and half-off the sidewalk right in front of the building. Nice place to park, I muttered. I dont want anyone scratching the paint, she said. That might set off the Furys self-defence mechanism, and I dont want flambed civilian on my conscience. Hey, Im not a parking cop, I said. You can argue with them about it. I adjusted my coat, made sure my helmet was on straight, then loosened my shoulders .You ready for the spotlight? Always, she replied. With that, we pushed the cars doors open and stepped out. This Fury was a little taller off the ground, which was nice. It made my exit a lot easier, and at a glance, it looked like Id need to make a good entrance. One thing became immediately clear now that I was on the ground. These people werent doing so good. It wasnt just the cheap, work-dirtied clothes. Those were normal in a situation like this. It was the look on their faces. They looked one part hungry, one part desperate, and all tired. I dont think hopeless has an expression, exactly, but what I was seeing now was pretty damned close to that. We were the hope these people were waiting for. It put a bit of weight on my shoulders to discover that so suddenly. This was a city of a hundred thousand, and they were relying on five of us. There was a group of police officers milling around the entrance in full riot gear and army surplus junk. They straightened up as we approached. Hey, I said. Wherere the local samurai at? I asked. Uh, the one I addressed said. I saw the gear clicking in his head, waffling between two choices. Be a normal police officer and use his own authority to try and bully me, or act like a proper human being when faced with something bigger and scarier and just give me what I wanted. Theyre both inside, maam, he decided. By the McDonalds. Thanks, I said. I stepped past him and entered the mall. It was surprisingly busy inside. Someone was brushing broken glass aside into a large heap to one side while others were stacking clothes into boxes which were being carried out by others. It looked like properly organised looting, mostly carried out by young adults and older teens with yellow bands. Gomorrah and I walked across as if we owned the place, and we were followed by a wake of whispers and pointing. Honestly, I felt pretty damned cool at the moment. I just hoped that we could earn all that coolness in the next few hours, because as I entered the food court and found three people arguing next to a tipped-over table, I was getting the impression that it wouldnt be all that easy. *** Chapter Seven - Big Gun Politics Chapter Seven - Big Gun Politics Chapter Seven - Big Gun Politics If given the option between being poor and rich, choose to be rich. Thats what my father used to tell me. He was a good man, worked hard for what he earned. As I grew up, I learned that there was more to it than that, especially here in America. This land has the greatest legal system in the world. Its one of the easiest to buy your way into. Remember though, its a legal system, not a justice system. --Mister P.J. Vermille, of River Heights, 2034 *** I came to a stop and crossed my arms as I took in the scene. Of the three people arguing, one was clearly a samurai. An inexperienced, new one, but he was undoubtedly like me and Gomorrah. It wasnt even just the strange gear he had on that gave him away. There was just... something about the way he stood that said that he was a weirdo and had no business being anywhere near anyone in charge. The other two were entirely different. A woman in the kind of business-chic that screamed high-end-secretary and a man in a square-cut corpo-military outfit, with a plastic pistol strapped to one hip and the obligatory complement of low-ranked mooks standing at attention in the background. A few people had noticed us, but no one was telling the three of them. The way everyone was milling around felt like kids watching their caretakers having a nasty argument. It would probably have been best for morale if this circus happened behind closed doors. Im going in, I told Gomorrah as I turned on my stealth systems and faded away. Stay around here? Sure, Gomorrah said. Im going to go check on the civilians, try to get an idea of how things are organised on the ground. Call me when you need help. Thanks, I said before walking over to the morons fighting in public. We cant allow the defences around River Heights to fall, the secretary-lady was saying. Just in the last twelve hours weve lost seven guardsmen, and the Villmont estate had to be abandoned which required that we move our defences back. Restoring the estates later will be a significant expense. The samurai guy shook his head. We cant, we barely have enough here. General Wilkinson can barely spare ten soldiers per entrance, and our green-tags arent able to keep the antithesis at bay on their own. The big army guy, who I guessed was this General Wilkinson because I wasnt a moron about reading context clues, nodded along. We are severely undermanned at the moment, he said. We might be receiving reinforcements, but not for another two to three days. My men can hold out for that long, but they will need some R&R soon or the constant stress will reduce their effectiveness. Also, we are losing too many around the River Heights area. Look, were doing what we can, the samurai said. He was a skinny, rather tall guy. Lanky, I think, was the right term for it. He had to be Sprout, the plant-specialist samurai. His gear was very... civilian. Jeans with a plain t-shirt under a vest covered in pockets. He had a sort of gardening belt hanging low to his side with some handles sticking out of it and what was obviously a handgun shoved into it. He looked entirely out of his depth. The secretary woman sensed that weakness and pounced. If Downtown wants River Heights'' continued protection, then we expect Downtown to provide compensation. Were already sharing supplies and allowing the people here to profit from our hard work. The least that can be done is diverting more help to us. Maybe we can renegotiate the samurai rotation? Rotation? I asked as I shut down my stealth gear. The three jumped and spun around. I was sitting on one of those half-walls that malls loved to use to divide up their food courts. Downtown had sixty thousand people. Right now, were not entirely certain. A number of people evacuated from around the city to here, where its safer, the General said. We are working on a census to better distribute supplies and work. Right, I said. Any reasons we shouldnt abandon the River Heights area and relocate the troops here? Sounds like theyll be more help defending the greater number of people. River Heights is very defensible, Miss Baker said. A number of the homes have tall fences and automated defence mechanisms that cant just be moved. Not to mention the historical value of the location. I blinked, then I raised a finger and texted Myalis. This is bullshit. Right? It does seem that a few people are living quite comfortably in a location not too distant from the centre of the city. Cross-referencing family names and local business owners suggests that a number of them own a lot of property within the city. So, rich fucks whod built a small defensible kingdom for themselves, and now that shit hit the fan they were staying in their castles. Honestly, I didnt mind that too much, but they were interfering with the protection going to the rest of the city. I hummed, then spoke up. We have a samurai over at River Heights? I asked. We do, Sprout said. Johnny. Hes there now. Its his turn. Right, Im going to replace him for a bit. General, Ill be texting you some information. Sprout, follow me. I fell off the wall I was perched on and started walking deeper into the mall, the newer samurai jumped to keep up. As soon as we were in another section of the multi-story mall, I spoke up. How are things? I asked. Dont hold back, I can handle bad news. Not great, probably not terrible, he said. I... need time to set up and be useful, but weve been running around putting out fires all day for the past few days. Johnny got us some pills that make it so that we dont need sleep. Without those Id have crashed. And the other samurai? Manic? he asked. She does her own thing. Id complain, but I really cant, shes killing more aliens than Johnny and I together. She doesnt really do orders or anything. And the local politics? I asked. He winced. Complicated. Ill be taking over those then, I said with an evil smile. Im good at politics, or so Ive been told. That would be a relief, he said. Look, River Heights are... a pain to deal with, but we kind of need them right now. They control payroll for the militia and run nearly half the businesses in this city. I worked for them until two days ago, I guess. Hey, dont you worry. Ill handle this with grace and decorum. Once I was done, the rich morons would be gracing us with all of their goods and decorums. *** Chapter Eight - River Heights Chapter Eight - River Heights Chapter Eight - River Heights Charity has proven to be nothing but a mistake. You give and give, and while it might help some, most of those you pull out of the pits of poverty merely drop back in as soon as you stop helping them. No, if a person in need of charity doesnt want to need it, then all they need to do is work harder. --Hope Rutherford, Professional Philanthropist, 2026 *** Hey, you, I said while gesturing to Miss Baker. She jumped, probably not expecting me to call her out. She was with a small group of well-dressed folk, mostly they looked like more corporate stooges, the type of failed human whose entire identity is tied to a single company. Miss Stray Cat, she said with a nod. Can I help you? We were about to return to River Heights with the good news. Really? Thats perfect. Im bumming a ride, I said. She blinked, then turned to her groupies and pointed one out. Jacob, stay here, please. Check on our offices and maybe press Mister Daniels to get the accounting done fast. If he complains, refer him to me. The man nodded, then picked up a briefcase and walked off. There, now theres plenty of space for you, she said with a saccharin smile. Are you going to stay at River Heights for long? Not planning on it, I said. Just want to check the defences there, get an idea of what needs to be shored up and where. How do you travel to and from River Heights to here? We fly over, she explained. The roads between Downtown and the better part of the city are patrolled lightly, especially as we have convoys that travel back and forth, but the area is still relatively dangerous. I nodded along. Hows the state of the wider city? The wider city? she asked. You mean the sections weve had to abandon? Yeah. Sounds to me like this divide between Downtown and River Heights would be a lot easier to handle if the defences circled the entire city, not just two sections of it. Were going to need to take the rest of it back anyway. Miss Baker nodded, enthused by the idea. Quite a few members of the River Heights council believe the same thing. Though Ill admit its a somewhat divisive issue. Some would rather wait for assistance to arrive to clear out the city, but others do wish we could scour the antithesis away. When the global incursion began, there was a vote on whether or not River Heights defences would be used to protect the wider city, but in the end we chose to protect whats most important first. Then we were flying over the no-mans-land between Downtown and River Heights. That entire area was filled with hollowed-out apartment buildings, burnt-down shops, and abandoned buildings of unknown purposes. The city, for all that it was a rather small place, had a number of parks and larger buildings with some land around them. Those had probably served to slow down the spread of any fires. The entire areas been evacuated? I asked as I noticed something weird. There were people on the roof of a larger building. A hospital, I think. The roof had a fence all around it, and theyd put up boards and sheets of crap in the way to roof it up completely, but it was clear that there were at least a dozen people on there. Scavengers, maybe? But then, why build defences if they were just grabbing things? More or less, yes. There are several shelters across the city that are networked together. A number of those are reading as having people within them, but we cant yet spare the people to go and retrieve them. I believe Miss Manic has been instrumental in escorting people from the shelters nearest Downtown. So, some people have been locked together in a single large room for... what, four, five days? I asked. Standard shelters should have supplies for up to a week, she said. I didnt like that, not one bit. What are we doing about that? I asked. She blinked. Well, that seems more like a concern for the residents of Downtown. The River Heights shelters are all empty. We did run a few rescue missions for persons of interest who were in locations nearby. The sons and daughters of River Heights residents. Of course, I said. We flew over the edge of River Heights. The chunk of the city was a quarter the size of downtown but couldnt fit a hundredth as many people. It was all McMansions with little lots around them. I spotted the clear blue water of pools hidden under glass domes and manicured gardens and lawns. The entire area was walled off. Two-metre tall cement barriers set around the compound, with pre-built towers sprouting up every twenty or so metres apart that were equipped with automated guns. I noticed a patrol making their way around on the safe side of the wall, five guys in body armour with submachine guns. The place was guarded better than a pharmacy that sold opiates. We came for a landing on the main street cutting through the centre of the area, where a few large vans and PMC trucks were parked on the sidewalks and where tents were set up. The area was dominated by an AA emplacement that was unfolded out of the back of a trailer. I pushed the cars door open and stretched up to my full height. Right, Im going to find the samurai thats supposed to be stationed here. Dont go too far, I might need you. Um, okay? Are you certain you dont need an escort, I would be glad to show you aro-- she froze up as I activated my stealth equipment and faded from view. Now all I had to do was find that still-unnamed samurai and see what he thought about all of this, because at the moment I wasnt feeling all that charitable. At least I had that much in common with the locals, it seemed. *** Chapter Nine - Eyy Chapter Nine - Eyy Chapter Nine - Eyy There is rich, there is wealthy, there is classy. They are not mutually exclusive. To be a good wife, you must embody all three in due moderation. --A Future Wifes Guide to Presentation and Poise, 2045 *** River Heights was a nice place. The road had a thing in the middle with little trees in it. The sidewalks were wide. Every house I walked past was either an older home made of glass and stainless or a newer mansion made of reinforced concrete and sharp angles. They almost all had a gate, but the fences were a few steps back, leaving enough room for some grass to grow. I bet they had some sort of home-owners association kind of thing. I bet they actually owned their homes too. Myalis, do you have any idea where whats his name is? The nearest Vanguard? He is three hundred metres to your north-east. I pointed. A bit more to the right, around the intersection. I headed that way, only pausing to take in a yard where all the hedges had recently been trimmed to look like animals. This place was rich. It was a different sort of wealth than Id occasionally seen from far below in New Montreal. This wasnt supercars and designer brands rich. It felt more understated than that. I guess it was a class thing, but I wasnt in any position to make much commentary about that. In the end, I was here for a purpose. Save the city. That meant saving the citys people. It included the people in these little mansions as much as the folk living Downtown. Fuck me if I wasnt conflicted. These rich fucks here had done the right thing. Theyd prepared to face an invasion. I walked by a checkpoint in the middle of the road. It was a small fixed base, with enough room under it for a car to drive while militiamen sat above manning stationary guns. The checkpoint was fixed to the ground by cement bases that were clearly already sunk into the earth long ago. Theyd prepared for this, or for something like it. It was almost unfair to ask that they relocate to Downtown. At the same time, Downtown was more important. There were more people there. The sheer human value made it a clear choice. Hey, Myalis, have the people living here been doing anything skeevy? Like, I dont know, keeping kids in their basements, eating people, that kind of stuff? A cursory scan suggests nothing of the sort, no. Though there are plenty of suggestions of white-collar crime and possibly business fraud. Darn. it would make it a lot easier to burn this entire place down if the locals were dickbags. Youre in a difficult position then. Did you want to talk it out? Im a surprisingly good listener. I am also smarter than you. I laughed. No doubt. Yeah. Look, Im responsible for this shithole. That means I need to keep as many people safe as possible using what I have on hand. So, that means making sure the aliens dont hit us too hard and then arranging things so that we can hit back. I understand. We stared at each other for a moment, then I snorted. Okay, whatever. Call me babe if you want, but Ive got a girlfriend already, and youre not my type. Not even with these guns? he asked. Then he raised his mechanical arms and flexed, the artificial musculature within straining while servos whined audibly. Its not that equipment that disqualifies you, I said. I came over to check on you. Or thats what I told that Baker woman. Im really here to see how things are going here. You alright so far? Im fine, and sos that Baker lady. I love a well-organised woman, you know? I guess. Hot secretary was never really my thing. Johnny shook his head. Youre missing out, Cat, babe. A nice woman in a nice suit, telling you what to do, all stern and forceful. And did you see her thighs? Damn. This was not the conversation I thought Id be having. You know what, I didnt actually look. He gave me a weird look, backing up a half step to side-eye me. Babe, you sure you''re gay? Im pretty sure, yeah, I confirmed. Right, I came here to talk, but not about that. Cant think of anything more important, he said. What about saving lives? I asked. Ah, yeah, making all the babes thankful that me and my guns were there to make them safe. He flexed. Again. I had no doubts about this guy being a samurai, even setting aside Myalis confirmation. No one else could afford to be so strange at a time like this. Youve been patrolling River Heights with the militia? I asked. Hows the place holding up? Well me and Sprout keeping things nice and safe, we havent had any trouble at all. A few plants tried to sneak in, but most get taken out by the auto-defences long before we get to them, and Sprouts stuff takes care of the rest. Lot less work than keeping Downtown safe. Thats tougher? I asked. Oh yeah, constant fighting. Theres always something thats blowing up and the aliens have a million ways to sneak in. Get to put my guns to good use. If this place is so safe, then why are you here? Just need a break? Nah, the nice lady asked, and Sprout agreed that one of us should be here. One of us isnt worth more than the dozens of guards they send to Downtown in exchange for us staying here. Right, I said. That might even be true. I certainly couldnt beat a dozen competently trained soldiers after only a day or two of being a samurai, at least not when it came to playing a long-term defensive game. Still, I didnt like it. I think Im going to have to renegotiate that one, I said. *** Chapter Ten - Hope Chapter Ten - Hope Chapter Ten - Hope Hope is a currency thats hard to define. But that doesnt mean you cant buy some anyway! Hopebucks! A non-fungible semi-monetary unit that you can buy, keep, store, and place your hope in! Typical NFT advert, 2023 *** Myalis had General Wilkinsons contact information ready for me, of course. It included the locations of all of his troops and their current dispositions. I was able to confirm that nearly half of the militia was located in River Heights. Miss Stray Cat, maam, the General said. Hey, I said. I glanced around myself, taking note of the militia guys leaving the food truck and the owner of said truck packing things up. The guy pointed at me, then the stall, and I shook my head and waved him off. Nice fella. So, Im at River Heights. Be honest with me, how overkill are their defences? They are far above standard. As it stands, and assuming normal antithesis progression, the area should be entirely safe for another seventy-two to ninety hours before we would need to increase its defensive potential. Uh-huh, I said. And Downtown, the defences there? Abysmal, maam. Samurai Sprouts plant-based defences are helping, and Samurai Manics frequent excursions are culling some of the alien threat, but the defences are manned by civilians with little to no training. Those who did have training were conscripted into the militia. Right. Were moving things around then, I decided. Find out what the minimum number of militia you need in River Heights is, leave that number behind. I want you to set up a few rapid response teams. I think my fellow samurai and I will be heading out to cull some of the nearest hives. So we wont be manning the walls. I understand. I can have them transferred over within the hour. Were not in that big of a hurry. Do it naturally. Im heading back downtown in a little bit. Also, your report has a section on missing supplies. Thats like things you wished you had but dont? I scrolled through that section. For the most part it was ammunition counts, some additional guns, more armour. Whoever the general had serving as quartermaster was pretty good at keeping track of what they needed. Weve opened our storage caches, where our ammunition and additional weapons were stored, and discovered that a number of them were either mismanaged, robbed, or simply had unmaintained equipment. As it is, with our current rate of consumption, well be running out of certain kinds of ammunition within the next two days. Well have to switch off certain weapons platforms for others, which means using that ammo faster. Right, I said. I... might be able to help with that. Well see about that problem later. If you guys are actually getting close to running out, make it a priority to annoy me about it. Yes maam. Will you be handling the fallout with the River Heights leadership? I touched her hand. I might be a bit of a bitch, but my jobs to keep people alive. All the people, alright? Now, if your precious River Heights people give me trouble, thatd be another story, but if they mind their own and help where they can, then this will all be so much easier. Well do our part, get some weeding done, then be out of their hair. You can go back to playing house or whatever. Thank you, she said. Ill hold you to that. And Ill explain things to the community leaders as well. I think seeing you in action protecting the city will reassure them that we can allow a certain amount of... leeway in our defences. I nodded along, then gently pulled her hand off. On that note. Mind if we borrow your ride back to Downtown? We need to get planning. Certainly, she said. The ride back was... cramped. Johnny took up a lot of space. I wasnt one to complain about manspreading, but this guy took it to a whole other level. The only thing that saved me was the distraction of trying to arrange everyone to meet up at one central place. Sprout agreed right away, as did Gomorrah, but the other samurai, Manic, was quiet. She doesnt talk much, does she? I asked. Manic? Nah, shes the quiet and deadly sort of babe. When I gave her the ol one-two kapow she almost ripped my head off. The what? I asked. He then mimed pointing to someone, then pointing back to himself and thrusting his hips out. This man was samurai material? The Protectors were probably laughing their alien guts out from whichever hole they lived in. Yeah, uh, I cant actually see that working on a woman. Ever. Ah, it works on the right kind of babe, he said with a wink. Did it ever work for you? I asked. It was morbid curiosity, really. He looked away. One day, it will. I mean, theres a billion eligible girls out there. You keep trying my dude, I said. The driver brought the car around and landed us in front of the mall. It seemed like the shopping centre really was the headquarters for the entire Downtown area. It was disheartening to step out of the car and see Downtown. The place was a mess compared to the otherwise impeccable River Heights. It wasnt just the architecture and the cramped, too-populous nature of it all, or even all the trash left on the roadside and in overflowing bins, it was the people. They walked as if expecting the shadows to jump out at them at any time. Then I saw the way they looked at us. Johnny did his whole flirting and flexing thing, looking like a fool the entire time, but that still worked. There was a light in their eyes on seeing us. Augs flashed on and I knew we were being filmed from a dozen different angles. People were less worried with us around. That was kind of a nice feeling. I just hoped I could live up to it. Giving people hope and taking it away wasnt something I wanted practice with. *** Chapter Eleven - Iron Spines Chapter Eleven - Iron Spines Chapter Eleven - Iron Spines This is going to be a fabulous merger, Im telling you. Are you sure? We make prosthetics. They literally make bombs. I know! Its a match made in heaven. --Discussion between MetalArms CEO and CFO before their merger with Noeing in 2031 *** The mall hadnt changed much in the last hour or so. It still felt like a terrible place to be holding any sort of meeting, especially out in the middle of the food court where anyone could spy on us. Then again, we werent planning to do anything too skeevy, were we? And a bit of public accountability couldnt hurt. I imagined it was the same reason why most companies didnt hold important meetings where anyone could overhear them. Sprout was waiting at one of the central tables already, back bent over a trio of tablets which he was poking at and studying carefully. Next to him, a man in a militia uniform was standing at attention. He had a few pips on his chest which suggested that he had some sort of rank in the organisation. Surprisingly, they both had frappuccinos next to them. Hey boys, I said as I came over. Sprout looked up, then smiled weakly. Oh, hello, he said. Ey! Sprout! Havent grown too much since I left? Johnny asked as he flopped down onto the bench next to Sprout, wrapped an arm around the much smaller mans back, and pulled him into a bro hug. No, not really, Sprout said. Like, really not much. The amount of points I make from my plants is kind of pathetic. Hows that? I asked. Huh? Oh. Well, you know how it is. Theyre not directly used by me, so I dont get as many points from them. But hey, passive point income is nice, theyre mostly paying for themselves now. Oh, yeah, of course, I said. I cleared my throat. Anyone see Gomorrah around? Shes coming, Sprout said. She went to the northern entrance. There was a small wave pushing at the barricade over there and she cleared it out. I, ah, heard some concerns about fire? That sounds like a reasonable concern to have around her, yeah, I said. That didnt seem to reassure him much. What about Manic? Whether or not she comes is up to her. She doesnt strike me as someone who does meetings, he said. I nodded. And you? I asked the militia man standing next to our little table. Im here as a representative, maam, he said. If you need anything relayed to the General, I can assist you. Im linked into the militias net as well, I can pull up information for you. That made sense. The General probably wanted to keep tabs on us as well. Alright. Well, while were waiting on the others... Myalis, can I get some sort of mini-projector? How small? I asked. Forty to fifty models, usually on the lower end with a sprinkling of the bigger single-digits. By this late into the incursions we should be seeing double digits, maybe low twenties. This is far below what Id expect to see. Huh, that does sound a little weak. Any ideas why? I dont know if the area was culled by a higher-tier samurai earlier. The area around the city was, Sprout said. Once near the start, then again two days ago. There were lots of explosions and the weather shifted around. People were worried about it. We lost power for a while, but it was re-established. The internet went down as well. Alright, I said. Something wasnt adding up then. Seeing as how Manics not here... should we proceed? Proceed to what, exactly? Gomorrah asked. Im thinking the wisest course of action right now would be to wipe out some of the nearest hives, I said. We can pair up--a noob and someone with more experience hitting hives together. Once weve cleared out the easy ones, well be able to range out farther, and itll mean that the new guys here will have more points to spend on themselves. That sounds fair. Theres only two of us and three new samurai though, Gomorrah pointed out. I dont mind staying behind, or switching out later, Sprout said. Well, there you have it, I said. Ill go and see Manic. I should say hello at least once if shes technically my responsibility, right? Gomorrah nodded, and I had the impression she was proud of herself under that mask. Anyway. You, can you tell the general to increase the alert level while were out? There wont be as many samurai around to keep things safe. But if we succeed, thatll mean fewer aliens too, so I think the general will be happy enough with the trade. Not that you need his permission, Gomorrah said. Its just polite, I said. Will you be okay with Johnny here? I pointed to the big guy with a thumb. As long as he doesnt touch me he won''t get burned. Oh, thats a hot mama, Johnny said. Significantly hotter than you could ever manage, she said. It was a threat. Johnny grinned, but he didnt push his luck, which was probably for the best. Was sending him with Gomorrah a good idea? Probably not. But if she cooked him, then that was just Darwinism at work. Right, Im going to check on Manic then head out to find some trouble. Sprout, keep me apprised. If Manic doesnt want to play, we might switch out. I can do that, he said. I patted him on the back. The dude could use some of Johnnys spine. And Johnny could use a bit less. Maybe sticking them together would end with a nice middle-ground? Id have to see. *** Chapter Twelve - Almost Cool Chapter Twelve - Almost Cool Chapter Twelve - Almost Cool Omg! When Deus tripped over a pipe and bashed her face against that wall? That bit after, where she stomps her feet, its already a meme. How can someone so dangerous be so cute? --Chat from Samurai Bloopers.net, 2048 *** Myalis, got a bead on Manic? Her location is known. Shes past the west-side barricade, about three hundred metres out, close to the waterfront. I can guide you there, if you wish. Thatd be nice, I said as I stood up. Sprout had run off to check on things already, and Gomorrah and Johnny--who really needed a proper samurai name already--were walking out. Shed pointed to a hive just to the south, which was close enough to both Downtown and River Heights that taking it out would help both. By the looks of it, Manic was faffing about some ways from the place everyone else was working to protect. I couldnt blame her though, she was killing aliens and thats all that mattered. There was a suspected hive a few blocks over from where she was, so we would hit that after saying our hellos. I feel a little under-dressed for alien hunting, I said with a tap against my chestplate. The gear I had was probably more than enough to tango with some single-digit plants, but if we were going to hit a hive, then Id want something a little tougher. Besides, I wasnt properly armed. I nipped into a washroom, because while I didnt mind eyes on me, the body suit I was wearing under my coat was so tight in some places it looked painted on, and I didnt need Lucy seeing images of my ass across her media feeds. Scoring higher on the popularity boards wasnt worth it. You remember that armour you showed me in the Mesh? I asked Myalis. I dont forget much. Is that what you want now? Yeah, I said. But make sure its heat-proof. Good cooling and stuff. Were working with Gomorrah often enough that not having something fire-proof is just asking for trouble. Thats understandable. Do you want the usual otherwise? Thagomizer tail, finger-mounted blades,shoulder-mounted guns? I nodded along. Sounds perfect, yeah. Oh, and those jumpjets from last time. Those will be difficult to fit in... I can add smaller ones, but their range will be somewhat limited unless you want to purchase a whole new catalogue specifically for that kind of technology. How limited? I mean, fair, but isnt that cheating? You could argue that everything a Vanguard does is cheating. I laughed until I had to stop to focus on my breathing. Soon enough, I was by the barricade and I stopped my run to a slow jog and finally a normal walk. The barricade wasnt much to look at, but it was still impressive in its own... mishy-mashy way. A group with brown bands around their arms were off to one side, grinders screaming as they cut through some metal plates. Others were behind a small partition, the actinic spark of welders going off brightening up the entire street. The wall itself was made of cars turned on their sides, with metal braces bolted in place to keep them there. There were enough of them stacked up that they rose a good five or six metres up. Theyd built catwalks behind the cars just high enough that someone could stand up and see over the edge of the wall. A few guns were mounted up there too. Hey, I called out to a militia guy who jumped to attention. How do you get to the other side? I asked. He looked at the wall, then back at me. Theres a tunnel, under the street, he said. We use it to get to the other side when we need to burn the corpses. Um, you can get around through that building too, but its locked up to hell, maam. He gestured to one of the buildings next to the barricade. Ah, thats alright then, I said. I walked up to the wall, bunched my legs up under me, then jumped. And then I landed about a foot ahead. Myalis, I growled. Yes, Catherine? Was it not obvious what I was trying to do? I asked. It was. But now I have a video of you doing a bunny hop while thinking youd look very cool. Dont you dare, I said. Sent to Lucy already. I apologise, Catherine. She asked nicely. I grumbled. Well, Lucy would enjoy it, and I was pretty much immune to embarrassment at this point. Just turn on the jumpjets this time? People are watching. Certainly. I jumped again, and this time the jets near my ankles fired with a nearly-quiet hiss that propelled me up and to the side of the catwalk. I latched on and used the momentum to swing myself over, then I planted a foot on a small ledge and basically stepped over the top of the barricade and leapt off the other side, coat flapping with a snap behind me. I landed with a grunt, knees bending so much that I almost hit myself in the chest before I stood and continued to walk. I was vaguely aware of people over the wall staring. Thats more like it, I muttered. Now, wheres Manic? *** Chapter Thirteen - Actually Cool Chapter Thirteen - Actually Cool Chapter Thirteen - Actually Cool A ground-based city is a city whose infrastructure isnt--yet--designed to accommodate sky-based traffic. These cities require that hover vehicles use ground-level commercial and public traffic lanes and are generally accessible for people on foot, or on self-powered vehicles (i.e.: bicycles, roller-blades, scooters). As Mega-cities continue to become more popular, living in a ground-based city is seen as something less desirable and more mundane. People living in these places are often called Dirt, or Ground Pounders. --Modern Dictionary of Modern Slang, fourth edition, 2045 *** The city past Downtown wasnt all too different from the city within the barricades. It wasnt like theyd stopped right on the edge of the high-rises. Though the further out I walked, the shorter the buildings became. Most of them were older constructions, the kinds of building styles that were popular in like, the early bit of the century. These were pre-Antithesis buildings. Cheaper, designed to be prettier. Theyd been retrofitted, of course. All that flat space on their sides was wasted if it wasnt plastered full of ads. The place was a mess now. More windows were broken than not, and I suspected that had more to do with looters than any alien presence. A couple of places had gone up in flames, and I stepped over the hood of a car that had merged into a few others in what was obviously a spectacular pile-up. Burlington, it seemed, was very much a ground-based city. Shes to your right, around the intersection and one floor above ground level. Thanks, I said. I looked around for any signs of the antithesis and found a whole lot of nothing. Strange. I would have expected them to be swarming almost non-stop. Wasnt that what happened in New Montreal? Why was it so different here? It couldnt have been Manic. She was alone and still relatively new. The area around the city had been culled, probably, but... no, I had a worrying feeling in my gut that said that something was off here, and I couldnt place exactly what it was yet. The missing aliens was part of that, though. I poked my head around the next intersection and scanned the space. A shopping area? There was a music store, an aug clinic, and a few chain restaurants with flashy ads competing for attention. Or they would have been if they werent off. Neon wasnt nearly as impressive when it was powered down. The second floor on the music store was blown out, the entire facade missing. Music was coming from there, which... was a little strange. The street seemed entirely unpowered, so what was making the noise? After checking for stuff that might shoot at me and finding none, I stepped around the corner and started towards the store. The music continued. It was just a guitar being strummed, something acoustic, if I had to guess (and I did have to guess, I didnt know jack-shit about musical instruments). The sound carried well across the empty street. Without half a hundred air conditioning units and neon tubes humming along and no cars passing by or catchy ad jingles competing for ear-space, the street was a nice, echoey place for a haunting, slow song to linger in. I didnt know music, but I knew emotions, and that song was as melancholic as any. I stopped in the middle of the street in front of the music store, head tilted back to watch the player. She was older than Id imagined, somehow. A 30-something woman with pale blue hair tossed up in a pompadour and shaved on the sides with a clean fade. She was augd to the tits (Which were, admittedly, fantastic), with shockingly blue eyes and a few wires just under the skin of her face. I laughed. Sorry. Couldnt resist. But really. If you want, hit up the hive yourself. I can stand back and blow shit up when you cant handle it anymore. Girl, Im too old for that kind of double-think trickery, she warned. I shook my head. One way or another, weve got hives to explode. You can work with me, you can go at it alone. Either way, we have work to do. Says who? Says me, I said. And youre the boss of this place? Literally, yeah. Some fuckwit whos never seen the outside of his little beige heaven assigned me to protect this backwater shithole of a city. Trust me, Id rather be back home wearing a lot less and frying my brain out on my media feeds while fondling my girlfriend. But no, instead Im out here giving orders that I hope wont get anyone killed and trying to lead around a bunch of noobs who dont know any better. So yeah, either work with me, or work for me. Those are my two options? she asked. She stood taller, and I realized that she had a good half-head over me. Still, something about her posture, the way she crossed her arms and scowled... yeah, we were on the same page, more or less. At the very least, we were in the same book. Well, you can go back to practising your guitar. She tilted her head to one side, the cybernetics in her neck poking out of her skin in a disconcerting way until her spine cracked, then she did the same on the other side. Yeah, alright, show me what you can do, Stray Cat. You some sort of top-tier samurai? Not even close, I said. Just been at this for a little longer than you have. Long enough to figure out which end of the gun goes bang. Hm. Myalis, nearest hive from here? Difficult to confirm. With local surveillance networks mostly down, I can only point you in the general direction. There are a few potential locations to visit. One is a botanical shop on the other side of the city, the other a sewage treatment plant, another--and this is the nearest, is beneath the Burlington museum of Natural History. Cool, I said. I love museums. Museums? Manic asked. Are we talking about the tallest cabinet thing? What? I asked. Yeah, nevermind. I frowned, but didnt ask. Come on, it cant be too far from here. You can tell me your sob story as we walk. Fuck you. Only if youre real okay about threesomes, I replied. *** Stray Cat Strut - Myalis Art Contest! Stray Cat Strut - Myalis Art Contest! Hello Samurai, All submissions must be sent in by the 30th of OctoberNo NSFW artworkYou can use any art generation AIYou can touch up the art or draw it yourselfTheres no limit to the subject of the art, but it should be related to Stray Cat StrutArt can either be posted on the special AI art Discord channel, or DMd directly to me right on Patreon! Only two (2) pieces of artwork per person will be eligible for the final part of the contestThis contest is open to the public!Voting will be open to the public starting on October 31stOf course, the winning art will be posted for all to see! The Prize: A signed paperback copy of Stray Cat Strut Volume Two!Provided youre in a place that I can actually ship to, which is most of the world with a few small exceptions And thats a whole of it, Samurai, good luck.Visitt for the latest updates Chapter Fourteen - Opposites Distract Chapter Fourteen - Opposites Distract Chapter Fourteen - Opposites Distract Its an accepted fact that the average American diet was worsening year-by-year, but I think it really took a hit the day the FDA merged with Nars-Mestle. --Chef Boy Kardi, last aired episode of his cooking show Proper dishes, 2034 *** We walked down the centre of the road, mostly because it allowed us to keep an eye on everything and if something ambushed us, it would give us more time to see it coming and to react. Also, it was strange and novel to walk down the middle of the street. You ever been to the museum? I asked. Do I look like the museum-going sort? Manic asked right back. I shrugged. Hey, dont knock museums. I became a samurai in one. Wow, she said. Talk about nerdy. I blinked. Did she think I was that kind of girl? I... didnt care that much about the impression she had of me, but it still stung a little that she didnt think I was a punk. Yeah. I was with the other kids from my orphanage. It was this big PR stunt thing. Then aliens came pouring out of the sky, crashed through the ceiling and things kinda went to shit from there. I ended up with a pipe through my chest. I tapped the spot. Anyway, it turned out alright in the end. Huh, she said. Dont have as much of a story as that. Really? Far as I know, most people that get picked to be samurai get a shitty start. Its fine if youre not ready to talk about it, though. She scoffed. I didnt get run through or anything. Me and a couple of... acquaintances all discovered that our go-to aug-doc was fucking with us. She touched her exposed stomach. He sold us these colon-integrated stim injectors. CISIs, you know? They can give you a long-lasting hit of something fun if you activate them. You can load yourself full of Ziggy, or Propi or your opioid of choice before a fight. Gets your heart kicking to the beat and with the right cocktail you cant bleed and youll keep going for a minute after youve died. Something wrong with the installation? I asked. Id never been able to dream of affording that kind of self-modding. Not to mention, the orphanage was liable to rip anything too good right out of me to sell it off. Worse. He did good work, but someone from a band I know started running the numbers and it turned out three or four of us had the same serials on our CISIs. Which, yeah, thats not possible. Turns out he hawked out these cheap-ass Chinese knock-off models. 3D printed, backroom shit. So we went off to kick his ass. I nodded along. I was already iffy about modding myself any more than I had. It was... I dont know, just kind of squicky. I didnt mind the eye, or the arm, but that was because I needed it. The internals were pushing it. I might give in one day, but Id put it off as long as I could. Her story was like a lesson on why it could be a bad move. Where do the aliens come in? I asked. Oh, when we drove out to his place, its near the river, we found it getting hit up by aliens. The others fucked off, but he had clients in there, you know? Mostly local whores and shit, but... yeah, they werent going to last. Bummed a shotty from a friend of a friend and ran in. Big fucking hero, huh? She snorted. Yeah, sure. She laughed then reached to the small of her back. What she came back with was a relatively small handgun. Got this thing. It fires a resonant frequency. Melts the aliens right up. Oh, hey, I used something like that before. A lot, even. Its a grenade though. Good AOE, keeps an area safe. She nodded, then looked at my gun, then her own. Hers was a lot smaller. I could almost see the math being worked out behind her eyes. Give me a sec, she said before frowning. Weve got all night, I said, even though it was mid-day at most. It took a minute, but eventually, Manic nodded. Then a box thumped down by her feet. She grinned, kicked the top off, then pulled out a much larger gun. It looked like the high-tech great-grandchild of a double-barrel. Bass-cannon, she explained. Cool, I said with a nod. You wearing ear protection in that suit, because this things loud as fuck. I laughed. I should be alright, I said. Right Myalis. One moment, I need to ask Vanguard Manics AI the specifications of that weapon... yes, your equipment should be able to handle indirect fire. Please dont take a blast to the face unprotected though. Itll make your cybernetic eye malfunction, and also melt your brain. Should be good,I said with a thumbs up. Manic grinned, then the sides of her head shifted and the skin over her jaw moved up and over her ears while plates on the side of her skull lowered to meet them so that her ears were entirely covered and I could see the linkages and wiring of the augs planted into the bone of her skull and jaws. Let me try this thing, she said. I stepped back. Manic stepped up. She cocked her gun which whined like a microphone getting bad feedback. I stepped back a bit more as she started to laugh and pressed the gun in against her shoulder. The barrels flipped and extended, forming a pair of large, glowing disks. The noise grew and grew until the pitch hit a point where I couldnt hear it at all. With a single heavy whump that displaced the air ahead of her, Manic fired. The front of the museum exploded. I was pretty sure they heard that all the way across the city. Ah, fuck, I muttered. Shes not like me. Shes the opposite. *** Chapter Three Hundred and Fifty-Two - With Catlike Tread Chapter Three Hundred and Fifty-Two - With Catlike Tread Chapter Three Hundred and Fifty-Two - With Catlike Tread One of the soldiers tripped on some loose stones and his armour rattled as he caught himself against the cliffside. Bastion half-turned and made a gesture that I didnt need my translation abilities to understand meant, I said be quiet. In the soldiers defence, it wasnt easy. We were walking more or less single-file along a path picked out by a few of the scouts. It wound around the cliff edge below the tower, mostly keeping to outcrops and nooks where someone looking from the tower wouldnt be able to see our group moving. The tower did as towers do, and towered above us. It was quite a bit larger than I expected, actually. The buildings footprint must have been more than a hundred metres across, and it was shaped like a large octagon, with sheer walls only broken up by the occasional balcony that stuck out above. The entire structure was clearly made from the same kind of stone as we walked upon, though I imagined that there was some magic involved in its construction,seeing as it was so remote. Ahead of me, Caprica paused, then nipped into a depression against the cliffside where she set her shield down and took off her gloves. A moment later she was holding onto a long slip of paper. Anything good? I asked as I came closer. Report from the Royal Pride. Its beginning its run now. Lets pray to the World that this works, she said. I nodded along. Im sure theyll take the bait. Its big and juicy! She snorted and pulled her gloves back on over her communication ring, then she picked up her shield and hefted it. Come on, we still need to get into position ourselves. As it turned out, our position was only a little ways away. The scout explained to us that it was the last point where we could reliably hide without being spotted by anyone who looked. Even then, the spot was rather tight with all of the sylph soldiers bunched in close to stay in the shadow of an outcrop. I didnt mind so much; I got to bunch in close to my friends. Do you think this will go well? I asked. It might, Amaryllis said. If we can move swiftly and with overwhelming force, things will go just fine, I suspect. These sylph are well-trained, Ill give them that. Probably better than any common pirate rabble. Awen shrugged. Ah, I dont know. But we have to try, right? If we dont, they might end up freeing Rainnewt, and that wouldnt be any good. A pit opened in my tummy. I still hadnt told my friends what Caprica had told me -- that Rainnewt had already escaped. I probably should have, but there hadn''t been a good time for it. Wed slept in a tent with walls thin enough that anyone could eavesdrop on us and wed been walking since the morning. Whos this Rainnewt fella? Calamity asked.Ge?t latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om Hes a fool of the highest order and someone whose head cant be separated from his body soon enough, Amaryllis said. Um. Rainnewt is a riftwalker who destroyed a bunch of dungeons, Awen said. But he also, ah, tried to start a war. A war between who? Calamity asked. Everyone, I said. The Trenten Flats, Sylphfree, the Nesting Kingdom, and even the grenoil down in Deepmarsh. He hurt a lot of people, framed innocent people, and basically did terrible things just because he was too lazy to find a more peaceful solution to his problem... our problem, I guess. Huh. Calamity rubbed his chin. Well, he sounds like the sort of person nya wouldnt mind getting into a hunting accident with. I shook my head. No, you wouldnt want that. Hes actually pretty strong. He even fought Bastion. Though Bastions a better fighter, Rainnewt is a lot trickier. He fought the Paladin? Calamity asked. He glanced to Bastion who was talking to some of Capricas royal guardsmen at the moment. Bet I could take him. It also means fewer ships already in the air once our transportation arrives, Bastion added. Caprica nodded, then turned her focus back onto the scout. Alert us as soon as the ships have taken off. Well move then and try to time it so that our attack coincides with the ships being out far enough that well have time to secure the tower before they can return. Yes, your highness, the scout said. He snapped a quick salute, then flew off over the rocks with a buzz that faded almost instantly. I guess well be heading out soon, I said. My grip on Weedbane tightened. Dont be so worried. Were only facing rabble and pirates, Amaryllis said. I think Ill be worried no matter what, I replied. There was no reason to assume that these pirates werent going to be tough opponents. And our main priority was still finding and saving their hostages. Buff time? Awen asked. I nodded, happy for the distraction, then I pulled out my tea set. I didnt have anything particularly useful, but I had one tea that could soothe the nerves, and so I prepared a quick brew of that. It smelled nice, and when it finally came time to share, I had a few soldiers looking at us longingly, so of course I shared. Then, once the third kettle of tea was gone, I stuffed everything away and started giving out hugs liberally. The buff from that was tiny, but it might still help, and sometimes everything counted! Plus, it was an excuse to hugs! Bastion perked up at about the same time as I was done snuggling all of my friends. Were heading out, he said. Stay low, move fast. Keep quiet if you can. Once we reach the tower well be dividing into two groups. But before that, we need to secure an entrance. The scouts have determined the tower likely has only two entrances. We''re going to use the one at the base of the tower; unfortunately, it''s on the other side, so we''ll need to circle around. Securing it will severely impact the adversarys ability to manoeuvre. Caprica nodded. Once inside, our primary objective, above all else, is securing the hostages. So clearing the route from the hostages--wherever they may be--to the first floor will be our second priority. Our third, Bastion continued right where she left off. Is crippling the pirates operation. We dont have the ability to imprison such a large group. That means that we need to make it difficult for them to operate so that a larger force can properly remove them as a threat later. Caprica grinned. Take out food supplies if you see them. We might be destroying whatever cisterns they have and piercing their fuel supplies as well. A small team will be sent to cripple their remaining ships. Cut important ropes, break flight mechanisms, poke holes in their balloons and ballast tanks. This is off the books, Bastion said. Officially, were not here unless this mission is a resounding success. For the moment, you are technically not soldiers of Sylphfree, but mercenaries working at your own discretion. That also means that we cant afford to leave anyone behind. These pirates wont play by the same rules as a proper army would. Keep yourselves safe, Caprica said. I think she was really enjoying her byplay with Bastion. Keep your brothers and sisters in arms safe as well. The scout returned, perching next to the outcrop we were using for cover. Maam, the ships are leaving. I looked past him and saw that he was right, three airships were taking to the air. Two of them looked like naval ships, and I suspected they were harpy designs, the third and largest was all boxy and square. Not all of them are Snowlander ships then, Awen said. She sounded a smidge disappointed. Good, Amaryllis said. Lets move out, everyone, Bastion ordered. We did as he said, filing out from behind the rock and moving at a quick jog towards the tower. The scout took the lead, walking a zig-zag route that was easier to follow up the cliffside. My heart was beating so fast in my chest that I could hardly hear anything else, even with all the ears I had. This was going to be something, and I wasnt sure I was entirely ready for it. *** Chapter Fifteen - The Bad Kind of Interesting Chapter Fifteen - The Bad Kind of Interesting Chapter Fifteen - The Bad Kind of Interesting The last game was stupid-hard, but the water level on this one? Its just not playable. Its streamer-hard, not casual hard. --Most Eldest Ring Forums, 2037 *** With the front of the Museum of Natural History being itself part of history, it wasnt exactly hard to find a way in. Though there was a lot of glass laying around and I wasnt sure if the buildings structural integrity had taken a hit or not. You know, you could have tested that on another building, I said. This is the one the hives in, Manic shot back. Yeah, but we could have snuck over to the hive. Now, unless theyre all deaf in there, theyll see us coming. Manic shrugged. So theyll come out to where I can shoot them better. Thats not sounding like much of a problem to me. I resisted the urge to roll my eye. She wouldnt be able to see it anyway. Lets head in. Theyll probably be on the lower floors if anything. My boots crunched on loose glass and I stepped over a chunk of masonry before ducking into the museum. Manic followed, her gun refolding itself into a smaller configuration. I hoped that it had multiple settings and didnt just have a blow everything up mode, especially if we were going to be fighting indoors. I paused once past the threshold and craned my neck back to take in the museums layout. It seemed as if the main lobby area was a big open space, reaching all the way to the top of the building and with balconies that let people entering peek into the second and third floors. A huge whale skeleton hung from the ceiling by a set of metal wires. Some of the bones had been blasted off, but it was still obvious that it was a whale. A plaque hung next to it. Martha, the Last Whale on Earth! Now on Loan from the Ocean and Seas Museum of America! You broke the whale skeleton, I said to Manic as she stepped up after me while making noticeably more noise. Huh. Well, my bad. At least you own up to your mistakes, I said with a nod. She flashed me a glare, but I turned around and headed deeper in before she could get a word in edgewise. The second floor looked like more of a reception place than a museum, and the first floor had a playspace for kids, with tactile displays and cartoonish animals explaining things in simpler terms. I imagined that the areas above were more adult-oriented. A holographic sandwich board, probably battery-powered since it was one of the only things in the museum that was lit up, sat by a staircase leading up. Fourteenth annual gathering for the benefit of the Burlington Music Society, I read aloud. That something youre part of? We crossed a section dealing with the local geography that looked entirely unbothered. It looked like most looters were more keen on throwing rocks than picking up new and interesting ones. Finally, we reached a maintenance door which was locked shut, the Employees Only sign printed on it a pretty clear indication that we werent supposed to be pushing through. So, of course, I shot the doors hinges off. Huh, thats a quiet-ass gun, Manic said as I raised a hand and caught the falling door. I lowered it down until it was close to the ground, then let it fall with a whump of displaced air. Yeah. Not much of a point in being stealthy if you give yourself away with the first shot, I said. Myalis, do we have blueprints of this place? We do. The reason I suspected that the antithesis were around this building is because of an unusual heat build-up in the area. The interior of the museum is several degrees warmer than it should be. So, strange and mysterious warmth. Thats not a perfect indicator of aliens, I said. Maybe someones growing something in the basement... is weed legal here? Manic shrugged. Its easy to get, legal or not. She shouldered her bass-cannon and looked into the maintenance area. It didnt have the benefit of a floor-to-ceiling wall of glass to allow sunlight in, so the interior was dark except for a flickering emergency exit sign. I stepped in, the visor on my helmet compensating for the lower light levels a bit, though I supposed that better gear existed for that same purpose. Manic sighed. Give me a bit, I need more light. Might want to order like, a headset, or glasses that let you see in the dark. Or a helmet. You have no idea how dangerous it is to be fighting aliens without good head protection, I said. I was quite fortunate that I was resistant to my own hypocrisy. I waited as Manic ordered something up. It turned out to be a sort of half-helmet visor thing that covered the top half of her face and wrapped around to the back of her skull. It let her hair out free. Thats better. Im going to be low on points soon. Well find something for you to murderize yourself back to a good number of points, I said. Or I can donate you my old stuff. Id rather not, she said. My gear looks good. Ouch. The maintenance area wasnt all that grand. We crossed a tiny breakroom with a wall-full of lockers, then a few other essentials: a couple of tiny offices, a closet with all of the breakers and servers for the museum, another closet with mops, buckets and a few shut-down cleaning mechs. There was a small warehouse space with shelves all over, but judging by how dusty it was, it hadnt been crossed by any aliens in a while. Then we found a door leading to a second warehouse space. On opening the door I was blasted by a gush of warm air that I felt thanks to my suits haptics. More shelves, more dust, but this room was unique because the last one didnt have a fuck-huge water-filled hole in the middle of its floor. Well, thats interesting, I said. I walked to the edge of the hole and looked down, only to find one of those monkey-like model ten staring up in our general direction atop a thick plant-like artery. *** Chapter Sixteen - Making Lots of Little Problems Chapter Sixteen - Making Lots of Little Problems Chapter Sixteen - Making Lots of Little Problems Its true that the antithesis are essentially plants, without a centralised hive-mind, or even a coherent structure of command. They are true aliens, unlike nearly anything that weve ever seen on Earth. But dont discount their cunning. -Professor Christie, Lecture on the Mysteries of the Antithesis, 2029 *** I lowered my Laser Pointer, placed the red dot in the sight over the model ten, then tapped the trigger to release a trio of rounds with a hush-like whisper and a faint kick to my shoulder. The water around the aliens splashed up and I stepped back a bit not to get hit by it. The rounds I fired pierced through the water and rammed into the little alien, two of the three finding their mark and ripping it up. Okay, I said. This is fucky. Is this normal? Manic asked. She flicked a rock into the hole with the tip of her boot. It splashed next to the corpse which gently floated up and away from the root. Ive never seen anything like it, I admitted. This was very strange. The root seemed to go on for a while. In fact... I knelt down and lowered myself over the hole, following the path bored into the ground. I couldnt see far, not with the lighting being as poor as it was and with my vision obscured by murky water, but it was pretty obvious that the tunnel went on for quite a ways. Onwards, and deeper too. Myalis, what am I looking at? It looks like an artery root from an antithesis hive. They are frequently grown along tunnels dug out by model eights and, of course, guarded by model tens. These will frequently link two sections of a hive together. Theres an entire heap of bad implications there, I muttered as I stood back up. Were going to need to call Gomorrah about this. I want to know where the roots leading to, Manic said. Trouble, I answered. She scoffed, but didnt press. I think we both knew I was right. Now, that begged the question, why was there a root like this underground? Or... no, that was a stupid question. Higher-tier samurai than me had been smashing hives all over. This one was probably a lot harder to discover, hidden as it was underground and under a layer of water. It was beneath the city, too. I bet a cursory glance would just suggest that it was some piping or something normal instead of a giant alien problem. I rang up Gomorrah, and she picked up within a few seconds. She was breathing hard on the other end of the line. Hey, I said. Hello, she replied. What is it? Nothing super urgent, are you alright on your end? I asked. She was breathing pretty hard. Was she in a running fight? Stealth would be preferable. We didnt know what wed be running into down there, and Id rather it not know that we were around until we chose to let it know. I ordered up two drones, and they appeared in a set of boxes next to me. I pulled the top off one of them, revealing that I should have asked Myalis to be a little more specific. When shed said stealth drones, I had a mental image of a small thing that hovered invisibly, maybe covered in cameras or something. What I found was a small robotic cat wearing a tiny set of scuba gear. I reached in, plucking the cat out by the nape of its neck. It weighed no more than a real cat, but looked to be cold to the touch. What? Manic asked. No, I replied, even if it didnt make much sense. Then I flicked the cat into the hole where it landed with a splash and sank right down. The second drone joined it a moment later, and I kicked the boxes out of the way. Myalis opened a pair of screens over my augmented eyes vision, one from each of the cat drones. So far, there wasnt much to look at but light-corrected footage of two dark tunnels. Are you getting that? I asked Manic. Yeah, Ive got it, she said. Not much to see so far. Let them swim out for a bit, I suggested. I imagined that whatever these hives were hiding it wouldnt be sitting just a few metres away. One of the cats reached a fork in the tunnel and I cursed. The root split two ways, one was clearly larger than the other though. That was bad news in any case. The antithesis had to have a whole network of these things. Myalis directed the cat to follow the thicker root, and I watched with growing anxiety as it continued to swim along next to more and more offshoots and side tunnels. At one point the drone stopped as a pair of model tens scampered by, seemingly unbothered by the water around them. The roots eventually turned downwards, and I tightened my fists as I watched them lead into a much larger space. An underground cavern of sorts, with large sections dug out from the walls and the ground. Model eights, the big worm-like ones, were hard at work enlarging the space. They werent the only aliens around. The roots covered nearly every surface, and there were hundreds of pods lumped together like grapes on a massive stem, each with an unborn alien within. Those didnt concern me as much as the really large, really disturbing pods taking up the centre of the room, each one as large as a semi-trailer. Thats going to be a problem, I said. Then the other cat reached a second chamber, and I closed my eyes. There were more than one of them. We were sitting on top of a massive hive, one filled with every sort of antithesis in the books, and I was willing to bet they were just looking for an excuse to pop up and make my life complicated. *** Chapter Seventeen - Growth Chapter Seventeen - Growth Chapter Seventeen - Growth Theres famous samurai, and then theres Famous ones. Im not talking about your average joe with an alien chip in their head and a bit of an attitude problem who likes saving orphans. Im talking about the samurai who leave behind a legacy. --Three Swipes, Late Night With AI-567 Interview, 2032 *** Now what? Manic asked. I reached up to rub at the bridge of my nose, then let my hand fall. Well, were kinda fucked, arent we? Manic shrugged. Honestly, thats nothing new for me. Yeah, thats fair. Want to go out with a bang? I asked. She grinned. Always imagined that the best way to go was while blowing something big up. A last, final show, you know? I nodded along. That was the big dream, wasnt it? Unfortunately, I had responsibilities now, and Lucy would be upset if I died, even if it was in a blaze of glory. So, basically I couldnt strap a nuke to my chest and charge at the aliens. Besides, I didnt feel like swimming. Myalis, I need a few more of those cat drones. Can you start mapping out the underground for us? We need to know more or less where theyll be breaking through, I said. Certainly. Ive already begun, though I dont yet know the extent of the underground hives reach. That was fine. I let Manic open the boxes that showed up around me. I had to think in the meantime. Downtown was woefully under-defended for the number of aliens we were seeing. Myalis, youre the expert here. When will they attack? An undisturbed hive will, generally, continue to expand, grow, and harden itself until such a time as it encounters resistance or a threat, at which time it will work to eliminate that threat. So if I planted bombs down there and set them off, then wed be swarmed within the hour. I started pacing the little room. It seemed as if I had three problems. I opened a text box and typed them up. 1- Fuckloads of aliens were going to mess us up soon 2- Downtown wasnt ready to deal with even a moderate swarm 3- All I had to work with were three noobs and Gomorrah I hesitated, then added a fourth line. 4- Lucy was going to be annoyed if I wasnt back home for dinner. Myalis, what could we do to mess the aliens up? I asked. I dont think we can just nuke them to hell. No, actually, I said. I was pretty proud of myself in the moment. Were going to poison the well, or however that expression goes. Basically, I need you back in Downtown ASAP. We need to up the defences until theyll be able to survive the aliens getting all uppity. There was a long pause before she replied. I dont think the antithesis get uppity, so much as they get murderously angry. Potato potato, I said. Well be killing them either way. Do you think youd have time to make a quick run from here to New Montreal and back? What for? Weve been making turrets at my place. We must have half a hundred of them by now. Theyre pretty cheap shit, but theyll work well against the weaker models, I said. Id much rather stay here, but I can ask Franny to take the church van and grab them, she said. I nodded along. Much better idea. Ill send Lucy a text about it. We really need to get things moving, I think that every hour we waste adds a whole shitload of extra aliens were going to have to kill. I know. Well go over whatever half-baked plan you came up with... want to meet at the mall again? she asked. Sounds good. Well have to distribute better weapons and coordinate with the general, whatshisname from the militia. We need everyone on their A-game. Talk to you in person in a bit. Hanging up the call, I continued walking through the museum, Manic a step behind me. So, where to? The mall, I said. Fuck me, she replied. Dont like the place? Its fine. Its the people I dont like. Theres only one sort of person that hangs out in a place like that, and theyre the worst sort of human around. Hyper-consumerist fuckwits whod sell their own mothers for the latest micro-version of whatevers the status symbol of choice this week. Cant fucking stand the place. And you know it only exists for people to flash their wealth. Otherwise theyd just buy their shit online like the rest of us. I like malls, I said. Used to go there with my girlfriend and stare at all the shit we couldnt afford, filch half-eaten meals out of the trash too. Great smoothies. Manic snorted. I guess we have different memories of that sort of place. Guess so, I said. Anyway, its where everyone decided to gather in Downtown, so thats where well be heading to. You can blame that Sprout guy, he chose it. I think he used to work there. Really? I asked as I stepped out into the sunlight. I got my bearings, then started walking towards the bigger skyscrapers. Yeah. Worked in this little flower shop. Huh, I said. Then I put that out of my mind because I had bigger concerns to deal with. *** Chapter Eighteen - Meeting of the Greats Chapter Eighteen - Meeting of the Greats Chapter Eighteen - Meeting of the Greats Theyre idiots. All their little minds can imagine as the pinnacle of this technology is a machine that looks and feels human. But why would you ever want that? Humans are stupid, humans can double-think themselves into believing that the god they were raised to think is real while their neighbour who worships another is a lie and a cheat and a fool, while also being aware that neither of them has any more proof than the other. Humans are the bottom, the bare minimum when it comes to intellect and reasoning. Why in the world would you want your AI to be as smart as a human? If we create AI and theyre not entirely alien to us, then we will know that weve failed. -Robert Vernes, head of the Open Institute for AI Research, 2029 *** Once I got back at the mall, Manic in tow, I sat around and started to look over our options. I also started to nurse a migraine.Visitt for the latest updates It wasnt a period migraine or the kind of thing that happened when you drank a high-addiction soft drink once and then didnt keep drinking it, but it was instead the far less fun stress-induced kind of pain that throbbed across my head. Do you want something for that? Myalis didnt even need to ask for what. Yeah, medicate me, I muttered low enough that only shed hear. A tiny box appeared on the table before me, and I reached up and pulled my helmet off. Manic glanced my way, and I found myself being observed a lot more closely than Id usually be comfortable with. Youre younger than I thought, she said. Im legal, I shot back as I opened the box Myalis gave me, took out a colourful pill, then tossed it back. It had a nice citrusy aftertaste. Nothing happened for a few long seconds, then it felt as if someone were carefully and slowly pouring cool water down atop my head and the pain washed away. Oh, thats nice. Its not chemically addictive, but try not to overuse that kind of medication. The last thing either of us need are permanent changes to your brain chemistry. That was sobering. I sat up in the cheap plastic seat--bolted to the floor, of course--and glanced around. Wheres Gomorrah and the others? I asked. Sprouts right there, Manic said with a nod to her left. I glanced that way and saw Sprout jogging over. He was wearing a labcoat over a more skin-tight armoured suit, the hems and front of the coat stained green and brown by what looked like dirt and plant stuff. Sorry, he said. I wasnt too close when the call came in. Whats going on? Basically. We need to clog up these holes, then make sure that the main defences can actually hold up. My main plan is simple enough. Pump the hive full of these little drone-delivered nano-machines. Theyll all start eating at the same time. Killing the entire hive all at once? Gomorrah asked. Bingo. But I asked Myalis, and even the fastest-acting ones take a few minutes. And theyre disproportionately expensive. Well be mixing fast-acting payloads with much cheaper, slower-to-eat ones that we can spread around some more. Hopefully, we hit all of the hives. When they come out for revenge, theyll be half dead already, even if they dont know it. Thats the whole plan? Gomorrah asked. Id love to hear better ideas. And Im not being sarcastic or anything. Better ideas would be fantastic, I said. No one volunteered anything for a bit. So... I cant just walk in and punch everything dead? Arm-a-Geddon asked. He sounded a bit disappointed. I snorted. I wish you could, but thatd wake the whole thing up. There are some double-digit models down there. Tens and up. Were going to be dealing with some big nasties soon. General, how quickly can you mobilise the entire militia? You mean pull people off of their relaxation time? he asked. I can have everyone in tip-top within the hour. Itll mean waking a lot of the night-shift people up though. Give them some coffee, I suggested. Gomorrah, I bet you have a few points left over, think you can help me arm everyone up? Sure. youre going to do the same? Im going to buy a heap of cat drones as a mobile force, then spend the rest on turrets and better guns. Hummingbirds cost very little and the civvies can use those no problem. Hummingbirds? Manic asked. I nodded. Little smart-pistols. No aiming required and theyll take out a weaker alien without too much fuss. We can set up mines and more creative explosives along the smaller routes leading into Downtown. We might want to pull people out of the towers on the outer edges though, theyll be hit by any area-of-effect stuff. What about River Heights? Baker asked. Id kinda forgotten she was there. I considered what to say for a moment. Well, if River Heights wants to use the protection afforded by Downtown, they have just under an hour to move. Things are going to get very messy, very soon. We all had a lot of work ahead of us, and not much time to do it in. Maybe I should have just called in the orders instead of pulling everyone into another meeting... a lesson for next time, I supposed. *** Chapter Nineteen - Vital Defensive Preparation Chapter Nineteen - Vital Defensive Preparation Chapter Nineteen - Vital Defensive Preparation I like the ship. On the one hand, sure, its classical trope stuff. The hardboiled, mean-spirited punk falling for the angelic nice-girl nun, but I mean, tropes exist for a reason you know! Plus, I bet that in private, Gomorrahs totally the dom. I mean, have you seen the amount of faux-leather in her outfit? --ShipBattles Forum post by user Youralis, 2057 *** My plan had three basic steps, and of course I ran into trouble before the first one was out. Fuck, I said succinctly. Myalis had continued to direct my drones through the hive tunnels, and that meant that with each passing minute we had a better picture of where the hive was. The good news was that few of the branching tunnels were under Downtown. Not none, but few, which was the second best option there. Then Myalis, being the helpful little AI she was, kindly pointed out a big glaring issue that I hadnt considered. If we wanted to spread the alien-eating nanogoop to as many aliens as possible, then wed need to insert it in a few spots, and the best of those were all hard to reach. She overlaid a few locations in the tunnel network where we could do the insertion, but they werent all close at hand. Okay, I said. My first thought was finding suicidal volunteers to head out and drop the packages off, but there were other, better options. We send out drones. Same cat drones that were using already, but with the bombs attached to them. Is that doable? I asked. Of course. The cats will also be able to reach the locations that Ive designated as ideal spreading points with relative ease. Though this will take time in any case, and there are few locations to insert them from. The hole in the basement of the museum is one of three locations Ive found so far, and its the most convenient. I nodded along. It wasnt central or anything, but... yeah. Time to delegate. Get me the General, I asked while I paced along the length of the food court. I didnt care if anyone saw me, really. Manic was still around, cleaning her nails out with a guitar pick. Sprout and Gomorrah had run off to prepare the defences and Johnny--Arm-a-Geddon, that was, had run off to... I didnt know, try to get laid maybe? A line opened up on my augs with a boring image of the generals face as the only indicator of who I was talking to. Stray Cat? he asked. You got any militia people with honking big testicles, General? I asked. He chuckled. I might have a few. What needs doing? I need a very precious cargo driven to a specific location and delivered to a specific hole. And no, this isnt any sort of innuendo. I need people to deliver a load of drones to the museum, specifically the basement where theres access to the antithesis tunnel network. Is this going to be the sort of mission where we only ask for volunteers? he asked. Im talking to Cat. Give me a bit? Lucy asked. At Frannys nod she walked off to the side where she had a little bit more privacy. So, whats up? Uh, literally just called to ask about the turrets. How many do we have? Forty-seven, she said. And I think we wont be able to fit all of them in the van. Racs working on making more as we speak, but they take like, twenty minutes each, so even if we did a round trip and then returned we wouldnt deliver that many more. Thatll help, I said. Also, what do you mean by we? We as in me and Franny! Lucy said. Im going to be the door gunner! Lucy, no, I said. Lucy, yes! she cheered. Come on, it wont be that dangerous. Its a van, not a gunship. Theres no door to gun from, I said. I have a handgun, she replied. Then she looked down, unzipped the front of her blazer, and pulled a handgun out from where shed tucked it into the waist of her pants. See, she said. Disregarding how hot that was, I said. Still no. Lucy laughed and shoved the gun away after checking to see if the safety was still on. You cant stop me, Cat. Besides, its just a quick trip over, right? Ill kiss you in like, an hour, tops. Alright? Now, I need to get back to work. Love you! And then she had the gall to disconnect me. Lucy was coming here. Oh, I could probably stop her, for now, but then it would become a challenge and I really didnt want to stand in Lucys way when she felt challenged about something. That wouldnt be healthy for our relationship. Besides, I did kind of miss her. So, if I fucked up here, I wasnt just going to get a few thousand civilians dead, I was going to end up without Lucy too. Well, fuck, I muttered. Myalis, how many points do I have left? I asked as I ran up the escalator. The clock was ticking. You currently have ninety-six thousand, four hundred and twelve points remaining. You have been spending without paying them much heed recently, but that amounted to less than three percent of your point total, so I didnt see the need to be overly concerned. Uh-huh, I said. Were going to be spending a lot more. I need drones with those nanomachines, I need turret emplacements, I need entire crates of easy-to-use weapons, and I need cases of grenades. If we cant make the walls around Downtown impervious, then well just turn everything at street level into one big killing field. Oh, wonderful! In that case, might I suggest a few catalogues? *** Chapter Twenty - Nanomachines, Son Chapter Twenty - Nanomachines, Son Chapter Twenty - Nanomachines, Son Fuck logistics. Corporal Dimitry, Russian Eastern Incursion Front, 2029 *** First, nanomachines. Specifically nanobots that can be used in an offensive capability. I need a catalogue for that? I asked. The only nanomachines youve used previously were specifically designed to dispose of antithesis corpses. This is an entirely different use-case. Yeah, but those were also nanostuff, I pointed out. Cat. The ones you want to buy for this hive are as different as a doorhandle is to a spacecraft. While both could technically be called machines, the degrees of complexity between them makes keeping both in the same general categorization idiotic and misleading. I raised my hands in surrender. Okay, yeah, fair enough. I imagined the nanobots we were preparing to deploy were going to be somewhat more complicated than those Id used before. They needed to travel to specific places and wait for a specific signal before they started anything. Any other catalogue I should look into? I asked. Two come to mind. Basic Defensive Infrastructure for quick-to-install defences. Then, Civilian-Grade General Combat Equipment. That last one is for the civilians, obviously. What does Civilian-Grade mean, exactly? I asked. The catalogue mostly has helmets and armour thats relatively cheap, capable of keeping a civilian informed and connected while also keeping them safe from the weakest antithesis. These are not rated for the level of combat a Vanguard would expect to face, and arent designed to last very long. The catalogue includes weapons that are meant to be so easy to use that a child could operate them with barely any instruction without harming themselves or others. I reached the top of the escalator, then nodded along. Alright, fine. Grab the catalogues. New Purchase: Class I Nanomechanized Warfare Current Points: 94,564 New Purchase: Class 0 Civilian-Grade General Combat Equipment Current Points: 94,464 New Purchase: Basic Defensive Infrastructure Current Points: 94,264 Nice, I said. Hold off on buying stuff for a minute, though, I said. There was a predictable number of militia men loitering around a set of shops that had been taken over. Someone installed steel plates before the windows and blocked the rest off with planks, leaving only one way into the area, with hip-high sandbags stacked up around it. Anyone coming in would have to get past the guys with rifles by the entrance. Fortunately, I had someone running out to meet me already. A fresh-faced woman, maybe three or four years older than me, who came to a stop next to me and snapped a salute. Second Lieutenant Smart, maam, she said. The General said you would need some assistance. Hey Smart, I said. I think we all need a bit of help right now. She laughed and I stared at her for a long couple of seconds. That hadnt been funny. Was I dealing with my own yes-man? Yes-woman? Yes-cute-girl-in-tight-uniform? I rolled my eyes. Right, I see what you mean. Lieutenant Smart ran back over, with two guys behind her dragging along one of those plastic-topped tables with unfolding legs. Maam, were bringing every table we have, she said. Itll take a moment though. Thats fine, I said. So, Myalis and I were thinking. First things first, the box here is full of nano-shit thatll melt the aliens for us. The general should have the outline of the plan already. Give this to whomevers heading out to the museum. I tapped the case on the ground next to me with the end of my boot. Thank you. Well bring it over now. Good. Now, well be equipping the civilians, right? She nodded. So... yeah, Myalis, ideas? You can either buy a few hundred samples of each piece of equipment separately, or you could buy kits of them. Theres no real point saving either way, but the kits might make it easier to distribute to the civilians. I like that, I muttered. So, a Hummingbird, something that packs a bit more punch? Then armour and a helmet with coms? Thats most of what I would suggest. Id also like to add a small first-aid kit and to include a rig with the armour for additional ammunition and supplies. That seemed perfectly logical to me. Doesnt have to be pretty, just needs to work and be idiot-proof. It should be. For a main weapon Id suggest the Alley Purr, its a suppressed smart-rifle with an IFF targeting lock to prevent accidental friendly-fire. Perhaps we can add some explosives as well, since you have the catalogues for those? I grinned. Spread the love? Sure. But... maybe Resonators? Theyre a staple of mine and theyre hard to mess up. The worst collateral theyll deliver is deafness. Certainly. Each kit will cost... ninety four points. I nodded slowly, then took into account how many points that was. Hey, Smart, how many civilians will we be equipping here? There are eighty thousand in Downtown, or close to that, we dont have exact numbers. Only about two percent are volunteering for guard and combat duty though. Thats a thousand six hundred. And a thousand six-hundred times ninety four was... a lot. I opened a calculator app and punched into the numbers, then winced. That was way, way beyond my budget. How many people volunteered to do guard duty already? I asked. You mean the green bands? she asked. We have two hundred of those per rotation. Three rotations a day. I punched in that number and liked it a lot more. Okay, so lets get half of them equipped then, I said. We might be in this for the long haul, so lets not go too far. Oh, and Smart, this is expensive. Lets not have anyone running off with our gear, yeah? Yes maam, she said. *** Chapter Twenty-One - Shouldering Chapter Twenty-One - Shouldering Chapter Twenty-One - Shouldering Its sad, but a lot of us just kind of stop trusting people. You can only save people only to see them destroy themselves so many times before you start to lose hope. But even when weve run out of hope, we dont stop trying, do we? I think that might be part of what makes us Samurai to begin with. Uwu. --Beatrice Hyper Cutie Zoom Ranger Sparkle Girl Bubble-chan! Smith, during her Twitch livestream of the 2042 Canberra Incident. *** Myalis came through with the equipment. Each set came in a large case with my logo on the front and a number stamped beneath from one to three hundred. Each case opened up to reveal a suit within, as well as a helmet, a pair of guns, and a small bandoleer of grenades. The suits werent the prettiest of things. More like jumpsuits crossed with skaterpunk outfits equipped with some padding around the torso and elbows and knees. The entire thing was set up so that someone wearing the suit could just pull on a few straps and parts of it would fold up and could be tied down with a velcro strap. Basically, they were about as one-size-fits all as a piece of clothing could be. The helmets were a bit large, but they were also clearly samurai-tech, even if it was on the cheaper end of things. Of course, the helmets had little stubs on the top that kind of hinted at cat ears. At this point I was too tired to argue. Second-Lieutenant Smart got a volunteer, one of the green-band civilians, and the man suited up while we watched. It was clear she didnt pick the shiniest mind in the world, but the guy figured it out in the space of a couple of minutes. In the end, he stood at what he probably thought was attention, his Alley Purr rifle held up before him and his back straight. Thatll do, I said with a nod. The equipment was supposed to be resistant to lower-tier antithesis threats, and I believed Myalis when she said so. The communications suite they had was rudimentary, but it wasnt awful. Enemies would be outlined in red, locations where they were needed would be at the end of a string of AR-pointers that only they could see, and allies were painted in green. It even came with built-in reticles. If the first three hundred proved halfway competent, then wed buy more sets and get more boots on the ground. I wasnt going to hold my breath though. I couldnt recall any situation when a samurai had armed a large group of civilians so that they could defend themselves, and looking at how excited and frankly kind of dumb the locals were being as the militia directed them to get suited up, I could see why. I wasnt going to be the one to order these folk around. For one thing, I didnt want to, and for another, I was far more likely to lead them into trouble. Id let the militia do all of the heavy lifting there. I was being both literal and sincere. When and if I chose to be patronising with you, Ill be sure to point it out. And, to avoid hypocrisy, let me point out that the last statement I made was, in fact, meant to be patronising. I chuckled and shook my head. The bitch, living in my head and still thinking circles around me. Anyway, Gom, Im hoping well be able to hold out, but hopes not worth as much as bullets nowadays, so if youve got ideas, Im all ears. We have chokepoints already, provided by the way the buildings in downtown are laid out. If we can abandon the buildings on the outer edge, relocate everyone inwards, then we can turn the exterior parts of Downtown into a free killing zone. And... this is a little controversial, but I passed an idea over to Atyacus and he said it was plausible. You might like this one. She sent over a file, and I opened it. It was a 3D render of downtown. Some of the buildings were red, all along the outer edge. I was about to ask what it meant when large red circles appeared near the base of those buildings and then all came crashing down like dominos. Holy shit, I said. You want to create a wall of debris? It might work, she said. Controlled demolitions are more or less safe, and itll create an impediment to any antithesis coming closer. Not to mention the artificial earthquake will be devastating to any underground hive structures. And to the rest of the city. You think this place was built to code? Its an idea, she said innocently, as if shed just suggested a foursome instead of a massive demolition project. The problem was, as awesome as the idea sounded, I wasnt sure it would actually do much to slow the antithesis down, and then wed be stuck in the middle. Ill table that as plan D. D? she asked. For Destruction. Or dumb, but I wasnt going to rain on her parade. Look, Im heading out of here. Do you think you can draw up a... I dont know, prediction-plan for where the antithesis will hit us from? We have a few ways to slow them down. Itll be nice if we can stall out long enough that the nanomachines rip them apart for us. We cant assume that all of them will be impacted by those, Gomorrah said. Or that theyll all die to a few nanomachines chewing at them. Some of the antithesis your drones spotted were large, Cat. I tapped my foot on the ground to bleed off some of my nervous energy. Yeah. Big old baddies. I dont know what to do about them, Gom. She chuckled. Its not that complicated. We burn them until theres nothing left but char. I grinned right back. Maybe its not so complicated, I said. But the weight was still on my back. *** Chapter Twenty-Two - Welcoming Chapter Twenty-Two - Welcoming Chapter Twenty-Two - Welcoming Arthur R Martin was the first person to ever be jailed for AI-related crimes. He used an open-source learning AI to create a model of the stock market, then let it run predictions until he was able to finally create a model that had a 68% accuracy rate for short-term stock changes. By giving this model the ability to reinvest in itself and letting it run, Arthur gained what was essentially an exponential amount of money, all the while his system improved itself and was soon leading the market. His initial investment was $10,000USD (190,000 credits today). Within a month he had $1,645,782,257USD. He was, of course, arrested, tried, and sentence to prison where he committed suicide by self-strangulation. --Its Just Math, first edition, 2026 *** The nanomachines are in position to be delivered. I glanced up as Myalis delivered the message. I was heading out of the mall, except I realized when I was nearing the exit that I was a bit peckish, so I got into line at a spicy chicken place that was still operating despite the apocalypse. They are? I muttered. Indeed. Ive confirmed it for myself, but General Wilkinson has sent you a text message to tell you that the team sent with the payload has arrived at the museum. Are there any reasons we shouldnt deploy the nanomachines? None that I can think of. Give them the green light, I said. Then I had to step up and make my order. Mild spices, some rice, a random selection of toppings that I didnt care much about, all cooked by a greasy-faced twenty-something instead of the usual machine because that machine was shoved off to the side and was clearly inoperable. Probably couldnt get a good signal to the franchise headquarters so they just hired this guy to do all the work manually, like they used to in the past. And theyre deploying. It will take some time to have all of the nanomachine slurry travel across the root system. Hmm, how long, more or less? Between two and six hours. As more tunnels and branches are discovered, the time scale increases. Did we send nearly enough of those nanomachines to cover a system that extensive? I asked. Given infinite time--and presuming that the antithesis stops growing--a single nanomachine would be enough. As it is, yes, the amount dropped should be enough to cover what has been uncovered so far. Though the harm theyll cause with so few acting at once will be light. I nodded along. Then we should dump more into the system. Maybe we can start by finding ways to access the bits of the hive under Downtown. If we poison those first then at least we wont have aliens crawling out behind our frontlines. A sensible idea. Ill set the cat drones to find exit points that are nearer to the surface. I got my order, paid by connecting my augs to the stores tapless payment chip, and then headed off while undoing the front of my helmet so that I could stuff myself while walking. How are we doing with everything else? I asked. I slipped into what was clearly a habitation building. A thousand shoe-box apartments jammed in next to each other. The ground floor was pretty enough, but I knew that every floor above that would have a ceiling that was no more than seven feet tall so that they could cram in a few extra floors to get more homes in. The place was filled, and I imagined it was only half because of the ongoing incursion. How many more people were stuck in Downtown, separated from their suburban homes? I waited in a dingy elevator and ignored the ads playing on every wall as we shot up to the topmost floor. Myalis must have overridden something because we didnt stop on any floors until we reached the top. The door dinged open and I stepped out into a shitty little corridor with none of the nice lighting, ads, or decorations that theyd bothered to shove into the ground floor. Instead it was all corridors and low ceilings. It didnt take much to find the door leading into the buildings top-most parking space. The area was wide open, with berths for hovercars and a landing strip down the middle. Holographic signs with directions and instructions hung all over the place. My timing, as it turned out, was pretty good, because just as I started looking around a van flew in and came to a stop by the entrance, kicking up dust and flinging wrappers aside. I waited as the van settled, then sprang forwards as the passenger side door opened and Lucy jumped out. Cat! Hey! I called back. Then she grabbed me for a hug and I couldnt help but match her laughter before I gave her a proper squeeze. I didnt know youd be waiting for me, she said. Dont you have big important samurai things to do? Fuck em, as if Id care more about some backwater city than I would about meeting you. She shook her head, then poked me in the chest. Or she tried to, at least. Urgh, youre all hard in that armour. Id kinda think thats the point, I said. Idiot, she replied, and I could feel the love there. I tugged the front of my helmet off so that I could kiss her properly. If she wanted me to be soft, then Id give her all the soft she could ever want. We-- we have an audience you know, she said. I glanced up and saw Franny who was blushing and trying very hard not to look like she was blushing. We do, I agreed before stealing her lips again. Cat, she whined, but it was almost a whisper, just for the two of us. Shes still a little useless, so lets not scar her too much, hmm? Fine, I said. So, what made you come all the way out here despite me telling you not to? She blinked. Since when are you my boss? Ill jump into danger if and when I please, thank you very much. *** Chapter Twenty-Three - Cat Themed Tower Defence Chapter Twenty-Three - Cat Themed Tower Defence Chapter Twenty-Three - Cat Themed Tower Defence The changes happened slowly. So slow that even though all the scientists were screaming about it for years, we still failed to notice them. A winter without snow, a complete lack of any insects outside, a few days where the weather was so wild that we barely recognized it? It all paled next to the distractions we could afford ourselves. --Excerpt from, On the Big Change, 2026 *** No, really, I asked. Whyd you come over? Gomorrah explained to Franny what you were up to, and she explained it to me, Lucy said as she reluctantly stepped out of our hug. So I thought I should come over and discuss the ecological and environmental impacts of unleashing a bunch of nanomachines to mulch aliens stuck underneath the city. I stared. Youre messing with me, right? She grinned. Maybe? I hugged her again. Youre such an idiot, I said. And yet I still managed to catch you with my evil ways, she murmured. Lucy placed another peck on my cheek. Whos watching over the kittens? Daniel is, she said. Not the best of choices, but hey, they have everything they need and most of them are plugged into one feed or another. They dont cause too much trouble when theyve got their bread and circuses. Need help with anything here? Around here? I asked. Did I need Lucys help with anything? What could Lucy help with in the first place? She was great with the kittens, but I wasnt sure if babysitting skills would really... actually, no, those skills would absolutely come in handy. Hey, how would you like to be put in charge of an army? I asked. That sounds fun! She said, Do I get a cool title? Admiral Lucy? Its an army, I think that would make you a general, I pointed out. As long as I get one of those nice uniforms with all the medals on my chest. I want to look like a third-world dictators right hand woman. I laughed, then nodded to Franny who was coming over. Right, let me give the two of you the rundown. Its not super complicated yet, but its about to be. Also, hi Franny. Hello, Cat, Franny said with a nod. It struck me just how much like Gomorrah she was sometimes. Sure, she was a hot redhead with authority issues as opposed to a hot blonde with pyromania issues, but a lot of their mannerisms were the same. Maybe it was a byproduct of being raised close to each other? If we treated this as a battle to keep the antithesis out as opposed as one to just kill them all, then our priorities when it came to defences changed a lot. And it would have to be a siege, because no matter what, there would always be more of the hive that we hadnt found spewing out more human-hungry aliens. Youre smart, I said to Franny who smiled demurely. I can see what Gomorrah sees in you. And at that she blushed scarlet, the smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose standing out in sharp contrast. I didnt have time to tease her much more than that since the militia finally showed up in a pair of vans. Right. Lucy, Franny, want to follow me? Were going to meet the General. Lucy, Im putting you in command of the civilian side of things. Really? Lucy asked. No ones handling that? Oh, someone is, and theyre doing a decent job of it, but I dont know who and I dont have time to figure it all out. Can you spend a bit of time figuring it all out and then keep me apprised? Ill give you a cat drone or something to keep you safe. She was wearing my first samurai-bought jacket, the one with the holes and the burns and the cuts all across it, and I knew she had a gun stuffed away on her, but still, Id be happier if she had something more capable to play bodyguard. And watching over the civilians would let her help without being anywhere near the frontlines. That sounds fun, Lucy said. Cool! I tilted my head left and right, then gestured for Lucy to give me a minute before I walked over and found the militiaman in charge. As it turned out, they had orders to bring the turrets to ground level around some of the more important buildings in Downtown. I countermanded that with my own order, to place them on every available rooftop to snipe out any flying aliens that might be trying to swoop in. When I returned, Lucy was grinning. I like it when you take charge, she said. Her tone set Franny off to blushing again. If you like it so much, why do I never get to be the one taking charge, huh? I always let you look like youre the one in charge, what are you talking about? she asked. I laughed. Alright. Save that energy for later. We have a lot of work ahead of us. Come on, Ill take the two of you to the mall? Actually, I think Im going to fly back to New Montreal first, Franny said. There are more turrets to bring over, and by the sounds of it youll need every one you can grab. Say hi to Delilah for me. Will do, Lucy said. And with that, I had to get back to work. A small shift in my plans was in order, then we could get the show started. *** Chapter Twenty-Four - Holding On Chapter Twenty-Four - Holding On Chapter Twenty-Four - Holding On Syncore is one of the strangest evolutions in musical history. It started with 3d full-dive VR music experiences. Basically, a listener would be plugged into the music, feeling every note and visualising every beat. A fascinating but harmless way to enjoy music. Then that evolved. Audiophiles discovered methods to literally tap into their own synesthesia via high-end brain-augs that allowed them to taste, smell, feel and be the music. This, of course, became immensely lucrative for a certain genre of artists who discovered ways to create literally addictive music. --Synesthesia Core, a History, 2042 *** I dropped Lucy off at the mall after directing her to Second Lieutenant Smart who seemed appropriately overwhelmed. Here, I said as a box appeared next to me. A cat drone started to unfold itself from within. Id told Myalis to give me something with all of the bells and whistles to keep Lucy safe and what she provided was the size of a bengal tiger with enough armaments to make a modern main battle tank blush. Thats a big kitty, Lucy said as she stared at the drone. Its head came up to her chest, and even though its weaponry was hidden, there was no hiding the fact that it was a high-tech bit of samurai gear. Itll keep you safe, I said. Just in case. Plus its big and intimidating. Are you saying I cant intimidate people on my own? she asked. I grinned. As intimidating as you are in the bedroom, no, I dont think youre quite as scary as youd like to think you are. She pouted, which was very cute, so I took a quick picture with my eye-aug for posterity. Fine. I guess we both need to get to work, then? Yeah. Ill see about keeping this city safer, you see about keeping it sane. We parted with a last, not-so-quick kiss that left my head humming happily. Then, unfortunately, it was back to work for me. Did I miss anything? I asked Gomorrah once I got her back on the line. I was exiting the mall for what had to be the tenth time today. The nun scoffed. Not much. The General and some of his guys found a second entrance point into the hive network, about a block past our outer perimeter. Were finding more and more of those. At this rate our defences are going to be a revolving door. Well figure it out, I said. We can start by dumping more nanomachine drones in those nearer entrances. Thats fair. Theres a militia transport heading to the mall, can you hand over more of those drones of yours with a fresh payload? The more we seed at the start, the better things will go, Gomorrrah said. I jogged up to the transport after it landed, and after a quick exchange with the militiamen within, I bought a few crates full of cat drones with more nanomachine payloads. I also bought a large case filled with resonators which had their timers replaced with remote-controlled detonators that we could all set off at the same time. From the sounds of it, Gomorrah was near one of the other holes and was slipping in her own payload with her own stealth drones. Hers werent cat-shaped. She described them as wheels within wheels, whatever the fuck that meant. Things were progressing nicely. We were dumping more and more shit into the underwater hives, enough that they were going to regret ever installing themselves so close to Burlington, and the citys defences, even if they were a little rudimentary, were coming along. I ordered up a few of those cat-drone operated mortars like Id used in New Montreal. Of course, Myalis made it so that the mortar had wheels and one of the bigger cat drones had a yoke that they could pull the mortar with, but other than looking silly, they were still usable. From the sounds of it, Gomorrah had installed a few turrets of her own over some of the more important parts of the city. I got to see one hovering by. It was a ball with a sort of eye shaped flame-thrower in its middle and about a dozen wing-shaped hover engines attached to it. Were the extra wings supposed to be redundant? Well, whatever. By the looks of it, they also had integrated missile launchers--no doubt equipped with something like fuel-air bombs--and a few other toys strapped on. I was feeling pretty good about our chances. Which, of course, is when the news came in that everything had gone to shit ten minutes ago, and no one chose to inform me until now. What? I asked the general, just to be clear. He sighed over the line. Maam, Im afraid that the hive has become fully active just to the west of the River Heights area. The antithesis are pouring out of a hole next to some incomplete infrastructure and have begun assaulting the barriers around that part of the city. He sent me a package that I opened. Live-feeds from a few guard stations around River Heights. I recalled those big towers with the guns atop them easily enough. Those guns were rattling out lines of fire into the accumulating bodies of model threes. The antithesis were charging the barbed-wire-covered barricades by the hundreds. A model six ignored some small arms fire and rammed into a cement wall hard enough that it cracked down the middle and buckled backwards. Someone clever tossed a grenade over the barricade and the explosion slowed the swarm down for a moment. Shit, I said. None of our newer defences were in River Heights. In fact, Id pulled back militia from the area. Shit shit, I muttered. Maam? the general asked. He was probably not enjoying hearing the person in charge mutter obscenities instead of doing anything useful. Alright, we can patch this up for now. Were moving up the time table for that area. Myalis, any nanomachines in those tunnels already? Yeah? Launch them early. Same with any resonators in the region already. Hurry things up that way. I need a line to Manic and Arm-a-Geddon, I need both of them moved to River Heights right now. I need Gomorrah too... maybe she can send a few of her drones over. And lets move some of our mortars towards that end of the city, they might be able to land hits from the edge of their range into the swarm. I swallowed. General, tell your boys to hold out for five minutes. Thats all I ask for. *** Chapter Twenty-Five - Trickle Down Chapter Twenty-Five - Trickle Down Chapter Twenty-Five - Trickle Down While the very concept of trickle down economics was proven to be utter bullshit, we still havent figured out whether the samurais trickle down technology has the same bullshitty smell to it. --Edward Denless, political commentator, 2032 *** Things went well for all of thirty seconds after I cut contact with the general. Then, of course, things got complicated. Arm-a-Geddon gladly accepted a ride to River Heights onboard a troop-transport loaded up with militia guys. Theyd reinforce the front line over there, which was getting complicated. The militia had cameras lined up so that I could check on things with some ease, and from the looks of it they were getting swarmed mostly by small-fry antithesis, but I didnt think that would last. Gomorrah agreed to send some of her drones over, which meant three of them were flying across the gap between River Heights and Downtown already. They were going to lay down some literal fire on the antithesis. That would help, but her drones werent the fastest things around, so we had a minute or three to wait before they arrived. In the meantime, I had to deal with Manic. What do you mean you dont want to? I asked. Manic didnt sound impressed over the line. From what I could tell she was sitting by one of the walls on the west end of the city. I mean I dont wanna. Never been told no before? Fuck, I said. The people there-- Are spoiled rich fucks. Theyve decided to hole up in their little mansions. Let them. I ground my teeth together. I couldn''t even be angry, her attitude was exactly how I would act and... wait, did that mean that I was a bitch? Shit. It wasnt time for self-reflection. Fine, I said. Youre staying by the area youre in? If the plant fucks are moving on River Heights, theyll be hitting Downtown soon. Ill break them before they get far. Right, I said. You do that. I cut the line off and took a deep breath. Now what? Manic would have been useful in River Heights. She had a lot of AOE stuff as far as I could tell, and she was good in a scrap. I placed her higher than Arm-a-Geddon and Sprout as far as combat abilities went, but she wasnt available, so Id have to live with that. Your ride is here. I glanced up and stared as a massive vehicle lumbered along the road, taking up two of the three lanes that bisected Downtowns centre. I added a reminder to myself to worry about that later. Okay, how are things in River Heights? Not going so good, the anime girl avatar said. The main screen switched to what was obviously the helmet-cam of someone on the front lines over there. They were manning one of those big chain-fed guns which rattled and barked out lines of fire that ripped apart aliens. Theyd gotten to the point where the bodies were starting to stack up and form little barricades of mulched flesh. I could almost smell the scene. Gunpowder and that strange mowed-grass scent the antithesis gave off when they died. A glance at the local map suggested they had all of seven guys holding the line, a line which was as wide as a nice upperclass street, the sort with wide sidewalks and houses with yards on the side. Shit, I muttered. Its not looking so good, the avatar said. Myalis, where are my mortars? Theyre moving into position. Itll take another three minutes until the first has a clear line of fire. Gomorrahs drones will arrive in four minutes, and the transports with reinforcements and Arm-a-Geddon will be in place in seven. I watched as the gunner mowed down another line of antithesis, but one of them, a scrappy little model three, slipped past the fire, jumped onto a sandbag, then latched onto the face of one of the militia men. His buddy next to him was quick to turn and punt the alien off, then he fired three rounds centre-of-mass, putting it down while the guy whod been thrown back scrambled to pick up his rifle again. Yeah, no, I said. We were doing something to help. Many somethings, but I wasnt going to watch as these guys just died because the help Id sent their way was too slow. Myalis, I need something that can hit their location now, I said. I have a multitude of options! Got rockets or something? Just a quick up-down-kaboom? Not point-efficient, but I certainly have a few options. Lets not fuck around, I said as I started to walk towards the back of the base. Id noticed a ladder leading up to the roof as I did my mini-tour of the vehicle. I grabbed on and climbed up and out the top. I expected it to be windy but... well, we were moving at a walking pace. Myalis was quick to give me a crate that had what was obviously a rocket launcher within. I picked it up, aimed high, and let loose, the backsplash scorching the top of the mobile base even as the rocket screamed into the sky. Damn it was nice to feel useful sometimes. *** Chapter Twenty-Six - Intel-chan Chapter Twenty-Six - Intel-chan Chapter Twenty-Six - Intel-chan A cult is, in essence, one of the best businesses you can possibly run. The cost of running your own cult is extremely low, and the power, credits, and influence you gain from running a cult cannot be overstated. Here at C.P. Morgans Cult and Pseudoreligion Department, we have experts of all sorts to prepare you and your fledgeling cult for the future and to ensure a happy, healthy, and profitable following. --C.P. Morgan, CPD Pamphlet, 2035 *** That helped, the anime girl avatar said as I returned. The screen had a view from that same gunners helmet, only this time he was looking at a crater with some antithesis bits on the edges while bits of dirt were still raining down from above. More aliens were coming, but now they had to go around or through the pit in the ground, and I suspected the shock had slowed them down a little. All the guards needed was a little bit of time to reset though, and theyd been given that. Now if only Arm-a-Geddon and Gomorrahs drones could hurry up and get there, then we wouldnt have as many issues. Or maybe we would. Myalis, can you give us a heatmap of Antithesis locations? I asked. The screen shifted, and the anime girl avatar found herself flickering over to another nearby screen. She frowned, looking peeved at the sudden motion but didnt complain. The screen now showed a map of Burlington, with some parts painted blue, while plenty of areas were shaded in oranges and deeper reds. The areas along the edges of Downtown and River Heights were clearly marked, and both had a decent amount of red right next to them. There are as many antithesis right up against River Heights as there are next to Downtown, I said. That is correct. So wed need to defend River Heights against the same number of xenos as Downtown. That... wouldnt work out. We didnt have the ability to do that, we didnt have the manpower, and I didnt have the time to take care of two places at once. For the time being, my plan was to protect Downtown and let River Heights take care of itself, but if it was going to face a tide as heavy as what I suspected was going to hit Downtown, then the whole place was fucked. We need to evacuate River Heights, I said. Myalis, can you send Baker a text? Tell her to organise everyone to leave River Heights. They have half an hour. I imagine she wont like that. Shes not gonna like that, the anime girl said. Id heard, in passing, that being a soldier was a lot about hurrying up to wait, but Id never really lived it myself. At the moment I had a dozen plates spinning, but I couldnt do anything until one of them started to wobble and fall. Myalis was kind enough to overlay the nanomachine spread atop the antithesis heatmap, with a more accurate diagram showing the location of the tunnels under the city, or what wed scouted out of them so far. Most of the bigger tunnels had been found, from the looks of it, but there were dozens of little branches that didnt look any bigger than a person that spread out every which way. Sometimes they reconnected with the rest, other times they spilled out into little underground chambers that I was certain were filled with plenty of hive flesh. Once this incursion was stopped dead, wed have to spend a few billion searching out the entirety of the underground for those little pockets. That would be someone elses problem. Problem, Intel-chan said. She spun both hands around, then pointed to an area on the map. Street cameras in this area have captured this. One of the side screens showed a group of model threes pouring out of a nondescript buildings side. Theyd slammed the door out of the way and were stumbling out, first a few, then a good dozen of them followed by a model four. One of its tentacles flopped off and fell onto the ground where it was trampled by the others. All of them were looking like extras in a zombie movie, with flayed skin and lumps of flesh looking like they were ready to slough off of them. One model three looked like it was having a fit, shaking its head before it charged across the street and rammed hard into the side of a building on the other side. Oh hey, your thing worked, Intel-chan said. Congrats. Thanks, I said, flatly. Myalis, can you set off the rest of the bombs we have down there whenever it would be best? I can. I think Ill wait until each one will hit the largest number of antithesis. Cool, I said. Now, where was that group? More and more aliens were pouring out of what was clearly one of the places where their tunnels rose up to the surface. A glance at the map revealed that it was about a block west of Downtowns outer defences. Intel, can you alert that end of the wall that theyre going to have company soon? And if you have a line to Manic, ping her as well, shell want to be on the front lines. Can do! Intel-chan said. She didnt need to make a little heart with her hands though. I made a note not to introduce Daniel to this guy because this was exactly the kind of crap hed get into and I wasnt sure I wanted that in my life. After the initial excitement of seeing the Antithesis finally appearing, I got to wait some more. This whole leadership thing wasnt nearly as fun as just being on the front lines blowing shit up, I realised. *** Chapter Twenty-Seven - Walk the Walk Chapter Twenty-Seven - Walk the Walk Chapter Twenty-Seven - Walk the Walk Notice: We need new books for the K-2 classes. The phonetic alphabet books we have right now are all animal-based, and the teachers are tired of having to stop every few letters to explain that certain animals (B for bee, C for crab, E for elephant, J for Jaguar, P for Penguin ... etc) no longer exist. Its causing some of the kids a lot of distress. Maybe replace the animal alphabet with brands? Thank you. --Notice posted on Teacher Group Chat, 2029 *** I stood there with Intel-chans occasional remark and the updating report from the screens for all of five minutes, before I decided that I would be more of a front-line kind of general. I really want to be shooting things, I said. The mobile base was a block away from the front line, not that the antithesis had breached the line just yet. There were more and more of them showing up though, some half melted, dying before they even got close enough to be worth shooting, others looking almost entirely intact. I suspected that wed missed some chambers and tunnels underground. Not a big deal, we could stomp them out once they came closer. The militia were out in full force, which while nice to see, was also a little worrying. What would happen when they tired out? I couldnt expect to hold them at full attention for hours on end. The volunteers under Lucy were going to take up some of that slack. Already I could see where a number of them were waiting on the front lines, with about half of them holding back for the moment, but theyd tire out too. Probably faster than the militia, really. Basically, the best case scenario for us was a single, big flood of aliens that led to a single, big fight. If the antithesis decided to turn this into a prolonged siege, then the people working to keep Downtown safe wouldnt be able to keep up. We were human. We got tired, hungry, and jittery. Even most companies understood that sixteen hours of constant labour meant a hard decrease in the quality of that labour. The antithesis didnt have that concern. Sure, individually I was sure some of them would tire, but it didnt take a hive sixteen hours to create a fresh batch. If you want, you can climb on the roof and shoot at the walls, Intel-chan said. Were only a couple of hundred metres away. As if I could land a shot at that kind of range. Hmm, no, I think Id rather be close up to the front lines. I looked at the screen that had... well, calling it troop-movements would be lying since neither side had anything like troops, but it was close enough. The tide of antithesis was being somewhat agreeable at the moment with the way it lurched towards the most heavily-defended parts of our perimeter. Oh hey, the nuns fighting a model thirteen. Keep in touch if anything happens, I said. I opened a secondary screen in the periphery of my augmented eye and let Myalis play around with it for a bit. Soon enough I had a well-laid out list of statistics, an antithesis heatmap, and the IFFs of all of our troops. The position of all of the other samurai were there as well, with little logos for all of them, and a big L in a heart for Lucy too. Thanks, I said. It costs me little and will allow you to make better, more informed choices. Speaking of which, there are a number of things you could purchase to improve the defensive capability at the front. I nodded along as I slipped through the mobile base, then jumped out of one of its side entrances. It was guarded by a single militiaman who looked like he was a year or two younger than me and who was swimming in his loose uniform. I hoped that the reason he was back here was because the General was trying to keep his less experienced folk out of the firing line. Lets see how things are going at the front first, I said. After all, most of the things I could purchase would start working right away, at least if they were things like more cat drones and additional mortars and the like, which is what I suspected Myalis was aiming for. I walked across the street, noting that it was nearly empty near the barricades but further in, behind some cement half-walls, a number of people were loitering. Most of them had armbands, yellow, brown, green, but a few were just standing around and watching. Were they gawkers? Some had equipment around, and I caught one group using the first floor of a restaurant as a staging ground for a big community kitchen. So, we had logistics this close to the front? A few ambulances were sitting idle not too far off, with nervous EMTs (with white and red armbands) standing near. Catherine. A trio of model fifteens have been sighted heading towards your part of the defences. Model fifteens... those were the nasty artillery models that could spit out large, explosive seed things that sent fragments all over the place. Not the toughest of the antithesis, but annoying, and theyd force our defenders into cover while the weaker models charged forwards. Im on it, I said as I picked up the pace. This wasnt the time to be strutting around and taking in the sights. I ran through an alleyway, and found it blocked off at the end, which was nice, we didnt need the aliens slipping around things. Less nice was that I had to jumpjet my way over the obstruction to land on the road Id be defending for the moment. At the far end, a pile of debris, old cars, and chunks of metal welded together into the semblance of a wall stood between Downtown and the aliens. A few holes were cut into the defences so that stationary guns could be pointed out through it. Those were rattling already, and I saw a number of people running around with cases full of ammunition while above, one of Gomorrahs angel-drones spat a line of fire onto what I imagined were some well-cooked aliens. Yeah, this was more like it. Much more fun than waiting in place and telling people what to do. *** Chapter Twenty-Eight - Morale Chapter Twenty-Eight - Morale Chapter Twenty-Eight - Morale Morale, while not a factor that is easy to quantify, is nonetheless an important measure of the potential success of troops on an active battlefield. For this reason, it is usually a good idea to allow your troops to see any local samurai at work. Nothing inspires hope like the casual disregard for death and the destructive capabilities of a samurai in action. --Morale and Victory, officers training tips #358, 2039 edition. *** I ran up one of the ramps set up behind the wall, then paused near the top as soon as I could see over the defences. The aliens approaching us werent quite like the tides Id seen in the defence of New Montreal. Those tides had been so thick that I couldnt see the ground past all the antithesis, and they went on basically forever, with no breaks in their formation except where a shell went off to create one, and even those were temporary. Here, the formations were a lot patchier. With trios of aliens running together and the occasional larger group. Often, some bigger, slower xenos were running on their own, too slow to keep up with the much faster and more common model threes. The remote-controlled and human-operated guns nestled in the wall spat at the aliens, short, loud bursts that ended with a few corpses rolling across the pavement. Those that managed to get close anyway got to meet Gomorrahs drone, which hissed out lines of liquid fire onto them and turned the aliens into rolling balls of flame. The smoke might actually be a problem later if it interfered with our vision. Then again, it also removed the corpses, turning them to ash before they piled up so high that they became an obstruction, or worse, a ramp of dead flesh. So far, things seemed alright. Then I ducked down with a curse as something smashed into the wall some ten metres off to my left with a huge bang. The metal under my feet rattled and I grabbed on until the shivers passed. When I looked up again, I saw the broken remains of a large chitinous wheel, its edges cutting into the wrecked cars and cement barriers that made up the wall. Little spines had sprayed out from around where the wheel impacted, and even now some of them were falling down around us, sticking into the ground on the safe side of the wall. No one was hit, but I imagine some of the gunners were spooked. If that had hit one of the little openings... yeah, that would mean one gun down, and maybe a couple of volunteers dead too. I glanced down the road, looking for the model fifteen that had spat that. Myalis helped, highlighting three figures without me having to ask. One was on the road a ways away, protected by model fives on either flank and moving forwards on its little legs even as its gut swelled and I imagined it was preparing to launch another wheel. The other two were better hidden, both of them in a building off to the right. It was some storefront, but the middle floors of the building were taken up by paid parking spaces. The walls on the street-side had been torn apart, giving the model fifteens somewhere to shoot from. As I watched, one launched one of its wheels. Once on the ground, I whipped out my Laser Pointer and started walking. I stomped over a few corpses, then edged around some piles of burning alien flesh. It took until I was a good dozen metres from the wall before I was close enough that the antithesis started to really notice me. With the gunners very carefully not shooting close to me, that meant that as a trio of model threes ran my way, nothing opposed them. Until I raised my gun to my shoulder and pulled the trigger. I scored a line of fire across the trio, then side-stepped their bodies which were carried forwards by their running momentum. Hmm, I need something with a bit more punch, ammo-wise, I said. Youre currently using armour-piercing thermite-tipped tracer rounds. Do you want something with more stopping power? Something explosive, perhaps? Or just a round thats heavy enough to stop them in their tracks? Just something with a lot more kick, I said. I was having a hard time describing what I wanted because I wasnt sure what I wanted to begin with. Coming right up. The bottom-rear of the gun opened up, and a cylinder fell out and clunked to the floor, only for the guns weight to shift back up as it closed and as a new magazine was teleported in. Heavy, I said as I weighed the gun. It had gained a couple of kilos, I was sure. Depleted Iridium rounds. They burn, are highly radioactive, and have a half-life with only hours remaining. They are also quite heavy and the rounds are specifically designed not to penetrate too deeply. I shrugged, then aimed at a salivating model three charging at me from down the road. It was still a few dozen metres away when I feathered the trigger to fire as small a burst as I could. The kick was a lot more than I was used to, but seeing the model three backflip, all of its forward momentum stopped dead, was more than satisfying enough to make up for that. I continued my enthusiastic walk, brrting any aliens that came too close and letting my railguns handle any that wanted to skirt around. As I came closer to the model fifteen, it turned its attention towards me, and I saw its stomach sack expanding as it prepared to launch another wheel at me. Frag, I said, my hand opening up by my side. A grenade landed in my palm, and on reflex I flicked it on, then tossed it ahead. It clinked on the ground, then bounced up and behind the model fifteen. I started to walk to the side, placing the alien between myself and the grenade, then I turned my attention to its guardians. The model fives were heavier, chunkier aliens than most. They didnt go flying as far when I peppered them with a few rounds apiece. Then the grenade went off with a loud whump and I suppressed a flinch. The building across the street rattled as dozens of little holes were punched into its side. Thats one down, I said. Two more to go, and look at that, they were within explosives range! *** Chapter Twenty-Nine - Weaponized Cringe Chapter Twenty-Nine - Weaponized Cringe Chapter Twenty-Nine - Weaponized CringeGe?t latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om Stores slowly faded into obscurity as the 20s turned into the 30s. As we approach the 40s, an entire generation has grown up unfamiliar with the idea of walking into a retail location to buy anything more complicated than a frappuccino. --The Decline--Consumerism and the Future, 2036 *** I took a little breather next to the corpse of a model fifteen. Or at least, the head bit of the corpse. The rest of its body was buried under the rubble of what used to be the front of a building. The facade hadnt taken kindly to my treatment of it, and I suspected the rest of the building would have to be taken down eventually because it wasnt in that great a shape anymore. What mattered was that the aliens hiding inside were dead. Or stuck under a few tons of torn up cement. In either case, no longer an issue for me. The miniature tide of aliens in their area had crawled to a stop, so I figured I was good for a little break, at least until more of them tore their way out of whatever hole they were hiding in. Of course, thats when I received a call from Intel-chan. Whats up? I asked as I connected to the... intelligence officer? What even was their rank? They must have been pretty good at their job if the militia endured their eccentricities. Oh-hiyo! Intel-chan said as their avatar appeared in the edge of my vision, one arm waving over their head. So, were kinda fucked back here, wanna help us, onegai? I wasnt sure I wanted to, not when I was being asked that way. Whats the situation? I asked as I stood up properly. All this fighting and stuff was really killing my back, even with the armour doing lots of the heavy lifting. Your girlfriends army is finally moving up to the walls to relieve some of our militia boys, but were spotting aliens on the inside of our defences. Particularly... right here, and here. Ive got militia stationed around the area with some of our light assault vehicles, but LAVs can only do so much and I dont want to send anyone into what might be a tunnel leading right into a hive. I checked the map and noted that Intel-chan had highlighted two spots. They were a block or two into Downtown, so well past the first walls we had, but still on the outskirts of the parts of Downtown where people were actually living. Alright, I said. How are things in River Heights? Calming down on the alien front, doing the opposite on the people front, Intel-chan said. Want me to tell your girlfriend to get on it? She seems good at motivating people. Hmm? No, its fine, Ill see to it in a bit. Are any of the samurai free right now? Sprout is, they said. I must have still been on the line with Intel-chan because they answered almost immediately. The lieutenant in charge of that area forwarded reports of alien sightings to me, and I confirmed them. So we killed the loose aliens and traced them back to this one building here. Theyve been coming out from the ground floor, but this building has a basement. No one wants to volunteer to go check it out. Yeah, I cant imagine why. The building in question looked like a toy store of all things, the kind of look-and-see outlet that let people interact with stuff before ordering it online. With the lights off inside and the barred windows at the front making what light did filter in strange, I wasnt too keen on walking in there myself. The dead alien bodies next to the entrance certainly gave the decor a certain flair. Blood didnt go well with pastels. Right, Im heading in. Quick-in-and-out, I said as I started walking over. Whats your plan? Intel-chan asked. Walk in, find the place the aliens are coming in from, plug the hole, I said. You know, theyll just make another hole, Intel-chan pointed out. I nodded. Theres always another hole, if youre willing to look for it. Oh my. I rolled my eyes, paused by the entrance, shouldered my Laser Pointer, then toggled on my invisibility. I could have done it earlier, but I wanted the militia guys to know that I hadnt just disappeared to leave them behind. I stepped over the bodies by the entrance, then pressed in, eyes on a swivel as I ignored all the toys laying around. The kittens would love this kind of place. Though theyd touch everything and catch every sickness left by the last batch of snot-nosed brats to pass by. Maybe once this city was safe again, kids would be more concerned about toys than being eaten again. But that would only happen if I didnt suck at my job. Alright, I said. Lets find out where those alien fucks are coming from and put out one more fire, shall we? Im rooting for you, desu! *** Chapter Thirty - Dog Gone Chapter Thirty - Dog Gone Chapter Thirty - Dog Gone In the early 2020s, on average, 69% of all households had a pet. Now, that number is closer to 36%! Now its far less common to have a furry friend. Thats why services like ours exist! Petpetzoo allows you to have your very own lifelong companion for as little as 1500Cr/Mo* for you to pet, cuddle, and play with, and you never need to bring them home! --Petpetzoo frontpage, 2039 *** It was surprisingly tense, walking across hip-high displays with colourful toys on them, and past larger signs and cardboard cut-outs of action-figure heroes. I duly noted that there were a lot of samurai-themed toys. Little action figures with changeable weapons and gear, and towards the back of the store, for the older customers, were posed figurines. I wonder what Deus Ex would think if she came to our place and found a figurine of herself in a glass case. I was pretty sure we might still have a museum case or two left over too. The Kittens would love this place, I said. Though theyd make a mess of it. I pressed inwards, then froze as I heard something off to my side. Plastic crinkling, which was a distinct enough sound. I slowly turned in the direction of the noise and noticed a few boxes of toys discarded across the floor. I brought my Laser Pointer up and listened past the drumming of my heartbeat. The noise came again, and this time I was able to pinpoint its location. I fired a trio of shots into a display a moment before a model three--now very much injured--came scrambling around to earn a fourth bullet to the face.Ge?t latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om More aliens came pouring out of nooks and crannies. Mostly model threes, but a few fours and fives. Not that it really mattered. They were injured already and even if they knew they were under attack, they had no way of knowing where I was yet. I walked around a display, using it as partial cover while I gunned down each alien that stuck its head out or went charging down one of the stores corridors. Resonator, I said before chucking a grenade to the entrance. Some of them had noticed the militia parked outside and were running out. They were getting gunned down, of course, but I didnt want to risk one of them getting lucky and ripping up one of the militia guys out there. We only had so many competent soldiers on our side, no point in losing one because of rank stupidity. When the room quieted down once more except for the high-pitched whine of that resonator, I lowered my guard and my gun. Nice place, but maybe we should wait before visiting it, I said as I kicked the head of a very dead model three. You should consider spending some time with your Kittens. I got them stuff, I said. I started to make my way deeper into the room. The aliens had to have come from the basement or something. And where were living its... like, not comparable to where we lived before. They have their own rooms and a working shitter, not to mention three meals a day. Yes, thats true. Youve done well by them financially and when it comes to their physical needs. But if you want to form any sort of emotional attachment, youll need to spend actual time with them. Then the grenade went off and the room filled with a blinding white-purple light that had me flinching back, and I wasnt even in the direct line of fire. With the gun up, I moved to the edge of the staircase and aimed down. There was a body at the bottom, a model four, tentacles splayed out everywhere. It looked like it had been flash-cooked on half of its body. The rest didnt look much better, with flesh looking partially melted. These were hit by the nanomachines, I said. Yes. Judging from what I can see, they have come into contact with some of the nanomachines weve dispersed through the tunnel networks. Wherever theyre coming from, its linked to the greater hive. Thats likely for the best. Because otherwise that would mean that were dealing with another offshoot here? I asked. Exactly. Yeah, that made a sort of horrific sense. I climbed down the stairs carefully, keeping my weight low and my gun ready to shoot anything that moved. Fortunately, nothing did. The stairs had a rail along their side with a lift at the bottom, probably so that employees could bring boxes up and down. The rest of the space was filled with shelves partially filled with boxes. It was all neat and organised, or probably had been before someone dug a hole out of the far wall. Whelp, Im guessing thats where they came from, I said as I eyed the jagged-edged hole. What little light I had coming in from the floor above didnt carry down into the tunnel, and my low-light vision was struggling a little with the far end of the tunnel. Not enough light, I supposed. I could hear scrabbling and scratching from further within, but it was faint and a little distant. Alright, so do I just plug this hole and hope for the best? Or... I looked around the room. Yeah, there was some space here. I could turn this room into a killing field. Let them keep charging in to die all day. Eventually, whatever defences you put down will be overwhelmed. Right, I said. And that would be playing for time while giving the aliens the edge. Not the brightest of moves. In that case... Myalis, I need a few things... In the end, I settled on three larger cat drones, all of them about hip-high and bristling with weapons, as well as a dozen smaller drones, the size of actual house-cats. I watched the drones file into the tunnel. They had explosives on them that would go off once they were taken out of action. Then, as a final fuck-you to the aliens, I plugged the hole up. First by tossing in a few proximity-triggered grenades. Everything from FOOF-dispersal bombs to plain old resonators, then with a couple of expanding-foam grenades that I slapped onto the walls around the entrance. By the time I was leaving the basement, the hole was filling with sticking white foam that was already hardening to the consistency of cement. Okay, now lets see how many fires appeared while I was distracted with this one, I muttered. *** Chapter Thirty-One - Sprout Chapter Thirty-One - Sprout Chapter Thirty-One - Sprout Samurai may have similar profiles with several commonalities, but its worth noting that every one is a unique individual, and applying the same brush across all of them will lead to errors in judgement and application. --On the Mental and Psychological Treatment of Samurai Patients - 2046 Psychological Profiling Database *** I stepped out of the toy store and nodded to the nearest militia guys. Place is clear for now, I said. Move on to the next place that needs you. And with that said I grabbed onto the back of the pickup Id ridden over and climbed onboard. Intel, got any news for me? Ohaio! I suppressed a full-body twitch. Intel-chans avatar now had a pair of cat ears on, both sticking out of a hairband of all things. What? Sprout-dono could probably use your help. Hes in bad shape. Not kawaii at all. I glared. Are you getting worse? I asked. The avatars eyes widened into a look of pure, unbelievable innocence. What do you mean, Stray Neko-sama? Pain in the ass, I muttered. Whats wrong with Sprout? Is he alright? He was injured while taking care of the other sneaky-sneaky hive, Intel-chan said. I sent more of our backline to the area to help stop the antithesis from spreading out from there. That was frustrating. Hows the front-line? I asked. "So far so good! Theres less aliens than there were before! That didnt sound right at all. Myalis, whats that mean? It either means that the nanomachine attack was significantly more effective than expected, or the antithesis are holding back for reasons unknown. Lets assume that its the aliens fucking with us, thats the worse possibility, isnt it? Dont they usually just charge in mindlessly? Whats keeping them back? Higher tier antithesis can sometimes display a certain level of tactical and strategic acumen. Lower-tier antithesis also tend to remain in the vicinity of their greater counterparts. Its an instinct that presses them to protect the more valuable members of the hive. So we were probably going to get messed up by some higher-tier aliens soon. Intel-chan, keep an eye out for any models in the double digits. I want to be informed right away if we start seeing more of them. Alright, I said. I got chewed up. If it wasnt for the militia people, for my armour, Id be dead. I frowned, happy that he couldnt see my expression at the moment. What did you meet in there? I asked. Just some model threes. Not even a lot of them. He leaned forwards and cupped his face in his hands. Fuck. That summed it up nicely, yeah. And now youre like this because you couldnt handle it? I asked. It wasnt nice of me, I knew, but damn if I didnt have time to play therapist. You know, its not all bad. Youre still new. Cant expect to be great out of the gate. Ive been a samurai for three days now, he said. Johnnys as new as me. He wouldnt have any trouble. Manic... shed enjoy it. Im... he shook his head. Im not made for this. I dont know why I was chosen at all. Hey, calm down, I said. I placed a hand on his shoulder and tightened my grip. Tell me what went wrong. I told you, he said. No, you told me what happened. Tell me what went wrong. He shook his head, but replied all the same. I dont know. I tried to not be noticed so that I could plant a few things, but my plants take a lot of time to grow. I thought I could just put a few of them down and let them grow to fill the hole. Theyve been good at stopping smaller models so far. Alright, and what happened? I asked. They attacked me. I couldnt fight them off. I nodded slowly. Do you have a gun? I asked. I lost it, he said. I shut off the mic on my helmet so that I could let out a long sigh. This guy was... not front-line material. He didnt have that edge, that willingness to jump into trouble and mess up the enemy. Gomorrah had it in spades. She enjoyed seeing the enemy burn. Manic was as violent and temperamental as they came. Even Johnny, while he was more focused on himself, was willing to jump into trouble to punch it. Sprout struck me as something of a pacifist, which was a fantastic thing to be, I was sure, but it was also not the best trait for a samurai to have. Well figure it out, I told him, and I hoped I was right because I needed every samurai I could get right now. *** Chapter Thirty-Two - Horses to Water Chapter Thirty-Two - Horses to Water Chapter Thirty-Two - Horses to Water Space is looking less like the final frontier and more like our last hope. --JimJam Science Show, 2041 *** I patted Sprout on the knee. Stay here, alright? I asked. Im going to pop on in there, seal things up in a bit, and then well head on out. Or... I licked my lips. Sometimes, when dealing with the kittens, theyd end up being afraid of something, or unable to do a chore, and while I ribbed them about it, I usually just did the task for them while telling them to do something easier to make up for it. Stuff like doing the dishes if they didnt want to take out the trash. I didnt think this was quite the same, but it was all I knew so it was all I had to draw a comparison to right then. You know what, no, I said. I checked Sprout up and down, and he seemed fine, physically, at least. Youre coming with me? I asked... said. It started as a statement and ended as a question, really. I didnt want to force the guy, but I wanted him to come. He looked up. Coming? Good! I said, taking the question as an answer. You can show me what your plants have been doing. I havent had a chance to see them up close. And if anything tries to eat you this time theyll have to get through me first. I start heading off, a grin growing as I heard Sprout scramble to keep up. We were met halfway to the office building by a militia guy with the pips of a second lieutenant next to the badges on his uniform. Maam, he said with a quick, sharp salute. Second Lieutenant Hawke, maam, you mentioned needing me? Ah, right, I said. The Hawke was a vaguely native-American looking guy, tall and broad shouldered and looking very serious. The two of us are going to head in there to poke around. Can you make sure that nothing comes out of the building until were done? Ah, aside from us, of course. We can do that, he said with another salute. Good luck in there. Thanks, I said before walking past him. Once out of immediate ear-shot I glanced back at Sprout. Got a gun? I asked. Uh, was his reply. I tossed him my Laser Pointer. Youll need to buy ammo yourself, I said. Myalis, can I get another? With the same Depleted Iridium rounds? Maybe switch it up to something like buckshot? Well be in closer quarters. A gun appeared in the air before me and I caught it before it could start to fall. Then we were at the single door into the complex. Ill be going ahead. Watch my back, I said to Sprout. He nodded. Ill do my best, he said. Obviously, he was still nervous. I was pretty sure that dragging him back in here was probably not the best move for his mental health but... he needed to learn. They shouldnt. Not all of them, at least. Myalis says no, I said simply. Oh, good, I was worried that we might-- Sprout and I both flinched and turned towards the cubicles where... where a person was stumbling out from behind cover. I lowered my gun. That was a human, not an alien. A man in a rumpled business suit who looked like shit warmed over. He tripped over himself as he walked our way, then his face rose and I felt a surge of adrenaline hit me. He was missing half his face. Catherine, that person is dead. Ah, fuck, I said. Sir, are you... you need medical attention, Sprout said as he started forwards. I grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him behind me, something that I wouldnt have been able to do without my armour. Then I raised my gun and fired once. The office worker fell backwards like a ragdoll, arms and legs splayed out even as a chunk of his chest flew on past him. What the fuck! Sprout shouted. Shut up a minute, I said. I stepped up to the corpse, then paused as it started to twitch. I looked around again, then knelt next to it. It grossed me out, but I yanked the head aside, then noticed something in the pit where his jaw was hanging loose, white muscles and cartilage exposed. It was a black, squiggly thing that I pinched and pulled out of the corpse. The worm-like appendage snapped, but the end I had continued to wiggle. What the fuck?! Sprout asked again, with more feeling this time. Model seven, I said. Weve got zombies. What do we do? he asked. Shoot them, I said. There wasnt much to do otherwise. The people that were zombied up were dead already. Especially this guy. He didnt look fresh. Now... where the fuck are they getting bodies from? Hey, Myalis, wouldnt model sevens be more... uh, susceptible to our nanomachine attack? They are smaller, yes. And therefore easier to eliminate. But when a hive starts producing model sevens it usually does so in large quantities. I scowled. Fine, I said. Myalis, can you send Hawke outside a heads up about this. Hell, tell Intel-chan too. We dont want to panic people, but we need folk knowing about it. Sprout, come on, show me where that hole is. Times running short. *** Chapter Thirty-Three - Minor Improvements Chapter Thirty-Three - Minor Improvements Chapter Thirty-Three - Minor Improvements User Milesglorius: People have tried all sorts of things to kill them already User Adfligo: Yeah, so? User Milesglorius: wtf, you think your ideas better? User CuteGirlsRCute: Maybe? Not like every ideas been tried and anyway I think that it''s okay to try new things. ATs have only been invading for like 20 years. Gotta try stuff yeah? Systema IRC, 2043 *** This was shit sprinkles on the turd cake. I didnt have time to deal with zombies on top of all the rest. Myalis, what are the chances that this is a small, one-off offshoot of the antithesis that we wont have to worry about? I asked. Its unlikely. Though I havent noticed any parts of the hive specifically growing model sevens. That isnt entirely unusual. Model sevens are small and quick to grow to their full maturity. Hives will often have other models grow them wherever they find a sufficient number of corpses or usable bodies. Remember that more than a weapon, a model seven is a means of transporting biomass back to the hive. Right, the zombies were basically the antithesis way of co-opting a persons body to walk it back to the hive for digestion. The fact that it was a psychological weapon probably didnt factor in. The antithesis were scary, but it was never purposeful terror that they sowed. I jumped when a call came in, the alert not loud or anything, but I was a little on edge and the sound poked at my nerves. Intel-chan was calling. Hey, I said. Hey, Intel-chan replied. Were getting everyone to take their anti-zombie pills, just in case. We dont have much manpower to check on people, but your girlfriends working on sending people to every housing complex on the edges of Downtown, just to make sure that everyone is still entirely human. I nodded. Thats good. Will we have enough meds to go around? No, Intel-chan said. Not nearly. But we can give some to every militia person, and most if not all of our volunteers. The pills are only meant to be good for a day or so before you need to take another dose though. Well buy more if it comes to it. I looked around the office space again. Earlier it had been a big, worrisome place because it might hide a few lower-tier models. Now it was worrisome for entirely different reasons. If the zombies are here inside the barricades, then... shit, how likely is it that theyd just spread out from here? Model sevens are notoriously stealthy. They arent fast-moving, but they can reproduce within a captured body, and there are many tales of model sevens taking over a body, then walking past defences to reproduce next to heavily populated areas. Right, I said. Intel, can you add a pin to Gomorrahs agenda? I can, Intel-chan said. What do you need her for? Burn this entire building down. In a way that doesnt spread to the rest of the city. Im sure she can accommodate that much. I dont know how heat-resistant model sevens are, but Im sure they wont survive the kind of shit Gomorrah can unleash when she has permission. Understood. Sending a message now, Intel-chan said. On the way back up, he said. What was your plan, exactly? He shrugged, a little sheepish. Get to the entrance, plant these down. Theyre all hyper-invasive and can grow quickly. Like, quickly for a plant, or actually quickly? I asked. They mostly take a few hours to grow. The thorn thistle would be large enough to block a doorway in under six hours. And that would stop the antithesis from breaking in here? I asked. He squirmed a little. It would make it harder for them. None of my plants break down into usable biofuel for the antithesis. Some are the opposite, even, with chemical packs hidden within them that can destroy the digestion baths the antithesis uses to dissolve organic matter into the nutrient slurry they use. That seems decent for area denial, I guess. Fuck with their food supply, make the area inhospitable to them. But, ah, Im not sure if its ideal for plugging a passage. They dug the passage, I figured it wouldnt matter if I plug it since they could just dig out another. And... well, you sent me here, and this is the best I could do. He gestured futilely at the pile of discarded plants on the floor. Kinda felt bad for the guy. Shit, I said. Look, this is my bad. I should have figured out what youre good for before sending you over here. Could have used your area denial stuff around River Heights, or on the borders. Ive planted some things there, he said. A lot of my plants are good for blocking alleys, and some I got to plant outside of the walls. Hopefully theyll bring those back to their hives. Ah, some plants have trackers in them too, and pheromones that make them really attractive to the Antithesis. Or some of them. Most dont have... noses. Do you make any points with that kind of thing? I asked. He glanced away. I havent figured out that part yet. I do make some but my AI explained that since its at such a remove I dont make many. But a lot of my plants can multiply. So once I get a proper set up going, Itll basically be free to keep going. I... my goal is to create some semi-invasive species, or buy them at least, and then plant them around areas with Antithesis hives to kill them off without ever putting someone at risk. Didnt they do that in Australia? Yes, he said. And they made it worse. But I think... I think I can do it better. I gave him a pat on the shoulder. Guy was aiming a lot higher than I was. Had to respect that. He was still useless in a fight though, which became obvious when a model three scrambled up the stairs and Sprout stumbled backwards and out of the stairwell. I rolled my eyes, then shot the alien. Then shot a second time to actually hit it. We all had something to work on, it seemed, and I couldnt fling stones from my glass house just yet. *** Interlude SNO Interlude SNO Interlude SNO Junior watched Katherine walk out of her little room. As soon as the door was closed she flopped back and closed her eyes with a deep sigh. Being the responsible one sucked, so they were taking turns. At least they had Daniel to shove anything really awkward onto. She didnt know how Lucy and Cat did it all those years. Not that shed ever tell them that she was thankful. That was just asking to pump up Cats ego. She glanced around her room, then kicked a leg up onto her bed. It wasnt a very big bed, and it wasnt a very big room. Really, the kid rooms (and it rankled that she was lumped in with them) were all kinda tiny. But they were also private rooms, so she wasnt going to complain too much. Plus the internet was pretty good here. She closed her eyes and brought up her aug displays and opened up a familiar tab, her only source for current news. Welcome to Samurai News Online: Your Source for Firsthand News! You are Currently Logged in as: JuniorBestCat2048 You have 2 InfractionsPlease Avoid Further Violations Have fun, dont share personal information, and remember that Big Brother is Always Watching! Stray Cat Sightings and News In: Boards SamuraiSightings NorthAmerica EldritchReality (Original Poster) Posted Three Weeks Ago at 3:47PM: Hello! Theres a new Samurai out on the streets of New Montreal. I overheard some PMCs talking about her. Shes called Stray Cat (I think), and I think shes currently working with another samurai (A nun with flamethrowers, couldnt ID). I didnt see her very much, so no pics, sorry. Shes a brunette, with pink highlights, pretty tall? 16-20yo. Black coat and some pink highlights. No clear theme, so I think she really is new. Can someone confirm? EDIT: Can confirm the name. EDIT 2: The samurai she was working with is Gomorrah (Showing page 1 of 753) SDC Replied Three Weeks Ago at 3:47PM New baby samurai! Plus a cat-themed one? Can someone get pics please? Arcc (Tsun) Replied Three Weeks Ago at 3:48PM Are there any other cat-themed samurai around? Especially in NM? We wouldnt want a catfight on our hands Mijasane (Do Not Bully) Replied Three Weeks Ago at 3:49PM Cats are cute. Whats her weapon gimmick? Is it guns? It should be guns! TheChubster Replied Three Weeks Ago at 3:49PM Arcc How dare you. I read that with mine own two eyeballs! Also, baby samurai! Smoll baby! Someone get a drone on them, I want to see them goof! Lechtansi Duskland Replied Today at 2:23PM Stray Cats orphans? TheStoryteller (Gay) Replied Today at 2:23PM Nuuu, LarsL is talking about Stray Cats army! Shes giving out samurai-tech-gear to people whore volunteering to fight! Theres this (really kinda hot) dark-skinned beauty in charge and everything. I heard she kissed SC, so theres a non-zero chance that this is a way for Stray Cat to recruit people into her lesbian harem! Vesperal Replied Today at 2:24PM I think youre projecting (Bzz) Replied Today at 2:24PM No way, samurai dont hand out their gear like that. Not unless theyre super new. If it was one of the citys other newbie samurais, then maybe. SuperVenom101 (Best Fren) Replied Today at 2:25PM I mean, its possible? Stray Cats pretty weird, so lets not overlook this Nowwho (Who?) Replied Today at 2:26PM Just because her GF is a pyronun doesnt mean shes weird! Junior found herself frowning. They were all wrong, of course. Well, not about Cat being weird. That was spot on. But the rest. She sighed. She should know better by now about people being wrong on the internet. That didnt stop her from opening a TTS app and dictating a reply. JuniorBestCat2048 (A Kitten) Replied Today at 2:26PM Cats not like that. I bet whatever shes doing, its what she thinks is best. Shes probably wrong, because shes stupid, but shes like, a genuinely nice person even if shes a bitch. Dont tell her I said so. Teken Replied Today at 2:27PM Lol, How would you know? Loskia Replied Today at 2:27PM Theyre one of SCs kittens, tag says so. M-Raynolds Replied Today at 2:27PM Could be a fake tag. I know you need to ask a mod, but that doesnt mean it cant be faked. Junior didnt know why she bothered at all. With a shake of her head, she backed out of the thread, then hopped into another that was booming. Chapter Thirty-Four - Knife Edge Chapter Thirty-Four - Knife Edge Chapter Thirty-Four - Knife Edge The profit balance is a knifes edge where you need to be able to deliver a product of a certain quality while paying the smallest amount possible. That means avoiding normal contractors and instead finding people who actually care enough about your product that theyll work harder, longer, and better for less. Once youve found these people, you need to exploit them for all theyre worth. -The Employers Guide to Employees, sixth edition, 2050 *** The hole in the basement was hard to miss. The wall was all cinderblock, and the aliens had punched through it, sending chunks of the cement blocks scattering across the floor, as well as ripping up a few of the novelty motivational posters stuck to the wall. Hang in there. I read from a poster next to the alien-filled pit. Yeah, alright. The nice thing about having all the aliens coming through a single hole small enough that I would have to bend over double to fit through was that even my shit aim was good enough to wipe them out in droves. My Laser Pointer clicked empty, and I stepped to the side, then gestured into the hole. Hey, shoot anything that moves in there, would you? I asked Sprout. Im gonna figure out how to plug this thing in the meantime. Ah, sure, he said. Dropping to one knee, he aimed into the hole, then fired. He wasnt going all-out like I did, but instead taking careful, aimed shots. Well, whatever. Hey, Myalis, weve got options here? We do! Also, did you want to split the points that Vanguard Sprout is earning right now? He is using your equipment. Huh? Nah, let him take all the points hes earning. Hell need them. The 55-55 split was nice and all, but 100 was bigger than 55 last I checked, and Sprout was behind in points-earned. I was fine with losing out on some change if it meant getting him up to speed a little. Now, the hole? Same as last time? Resonators and a foam plug for the exit? Yeah, I guess. The antithesis coming out of here were chewed up by our nanomachines, so it wasnt all bad to block the hole and let them wait. Call it a permanent temporary solution, then, I said. Gomorrah was probably going to burn the entire building down anyway, so it wasnt that big a deal. The only concern was having model sevens spawning within the city and spreading outwards. But as insidious and nasty as a zombie threat was, the threat of being flooded over was bigger and more worrisome still. Or maybe I was just biassed. I waited until Sprout clicked empty, then I flung in some grenades, tossing them as deep into the hole as I could. Most were resonators, but I made sure to include a single, more traditional concussive grenade in the lot. Sprout squawked as a wash of dust and hot air blasted out of the hole, and I laughed as I dropped a last resonator right next to the entrance then set off a foam bomb that immediately started to expand. Come on. Myalis can reload your gun automatically for you. As long as youre spending round killing shit for us I dont mind footing that bill. Uh, thanks? he said. I patted him on the shoulder, then gestured to the stairs. Lets get going. There will be other disasters to figure out by now, I bet. And all of that didnt matter because the people they were defending werent moving. One sec, Im getting Baker on the line, I growled. The call rang five times, each note pushing my mood lower and lower until I was pacing anxiously across the front of the office. Some of the militia whod stayed behind were eyeing me strangely. Hello? Miss Baker said. Why the fuck havent people evacuated from River Heights yet? I asked. Weve planned the evacuation for tomorrow morning, when itll be most conve-- Im going to bomb the entire area in an hour. If your rich fucks dont want to eat high explosive shells for dinner then tell them to get their pampered asses the fuck out of there post-haste because Ive got no fucks to give but plenty of munitions to make up for it. Then I cut her off. Sugoi, Intel-chan said. Scary. Think theyll actually start moving their asses? I asked. Le mao, Intel-chan said. No way. Theyll call your bluff for sure. You might be a bad bitch, neco-mmander, but everyone knows you wouldnt actually blow up civilians for fun. I grit my teeth. Fuck. At what point could I wash my hands and just let people die from their own stupidity? Where was the cutoff between having done enough and not doing enough? I needed a manual on how to handle this shit. Not that Id actually read it. Myalis, give me your best estimates of whats going to go down in the next hour. From the looks of it, Manic might be correct. The expected flood of antithesis never occurred. So a lot of the biomass within the hive is still within the hive. And while the nanomachines will continue to rip them apart, there are ways that they might be able to counteract some of that pressure. Notably by sending out injured units to die while holding back fresher ones. Okay, I said. Smart, I guess. Unusually so, yes. You can either expect this back and forth to continue for some time as the hive purges itself of nanomachines, or the hive might correctly identify the local human area as the source of the threat and destroy it. Ah, I said. So were fucked. Im sure youll manage! I have faith that youll muddle through somehow, and that the muddling will be immensely entertaining for me. Youre awful, I said. But she wasnt wrong. I didnt have time to give in to any sort of anxiety, not when I could be doing something. Come on, lets get back to the front lines. I want to be there when the shit hits the fan. Lets go, then. And with that, I jumped back behind that shitty pickup that I guess had become my unofficial ride through this shitty city. *** Chapter Thirty-Five - When Business Takes Care of Itself Chapter Thirty-Five - When Business Takes Care of Itself Chapter Thirty-Five - When Business Takes Care of Itself Tube-births are becoming more popular and an ever increasing number of higher-income families insist on having children both without natural birth (which might harm the would-be mother and prevent her from working for a period) and with pre-checked and modded genes (which ensure that the child will be born without defects and in perfect health). This has the predictable side-effect of creating an as-of-yet small generation of so-called perfect babies who are growing up to be perfect children. Unfortunately, no one has discovered an anti-elitism gene yet. --Crispy Babies Done Well, First edition, 2051 *** The shit and the fan were on a collision course by the time I arrived in the outer part of Downtown where our defences were set up. I knew that long before we arrived though, because even while riding on the back of the pickup I could feel the ground trembling. Intel-chan popped up with an update. So, the avatar said. Bit of a kerfuffle. Go on, I said. A couple of buildings have just collapsed near the front. None of them are right next to our defensive line, but some arent too far off from that. Frowning, I brought up Myalis map of the city and took note of where those buildings had collapsed. That was about a block away from the outer edges of our defences, three buildings all very close to each other. Notably though, when I opened the overlay with the location of the hive, none of the three were over it. Catherine, I suspect that these buildings collapsed because of movement underground. Seeing as how the hive tunnels weve explored dont travel beneath them, its entirely possible that were dealing with either a separate hive, or an entire section that our cursory explorations failed to discover. Fantastic, I said. This day couldnt be over soon enough. The pickup screeched to a stop as we turned onto a busy street. There were militia people all over the place and... lots of folks in the suits Id bought running around and setting things up in a hurry. New barricades were being set up, large cement blockades were being pulled off the back of trucks by people with forklifts and construction exo-suits. Tents were being set up and the old defences looked like they were moving back. For a moment I wondered why they were going through all that trouble when we had a sort of wall already, but then I figured it out. They were creating a killbox. A hole was being dug out in the wall, and any aliens that poured through that tight little space would be gunned down by concentrated fire. Smart, I supposed. It felt like the kind of thing that should have been set up several days ago instead of the half-measure walls we had. I wondered where they got the cement half-walls until I saw Property of... stencilled on the side of one of them. They were from a nearby parking garage. I walked along the edge, largely ignored except for a few glances my way and the occasional nod. What struck me as the strangest in all of this was the way people moved. They were pushing themselves, sweating and hurried, but also methodical and quiet. No one was complaining, no one was joking or being funny, no one was moving at contractor speeds. It was all quick, cold efficiency, which I might have expected to see in a soldier or maybe the best the militia had, but these were the volunteers that Id left with Lucy. She sighed. Yes, Cat, a zombie horde. Theyre like, crawling out of this parking garage place. I sent Tabby Squad down there to steal some of those barrier things for the front, and it turns out that a lot of people have died recently and the morgues are all outside of downtown, or something. I guess those that are closer are full-up? Whatever, the point is, they started storing corpses in this place and sealed it off, but now theyre zombies. Okay, I said. Where is it, I can pop over and... No no, she said, and I could imagine her head shaking. The kittens will take care of it. I just need better gear for them. Can we get like, biological protection stuff? Maybe flame throwers? Uh, I said. You want more gear? Look, the gear you gots cute and all, but its kind of generalist, and we dont have enough to outfit even a tenth of the people we have. I blinked. Not even a tenth? I asked. Ive been recruiting, she said. How? Where? I got on the radio, and on tv, she said, the smugness unmistakable. Do you have any idea how many people are bored out of their minds and also worried that theyll die at any moment? Thats a lot of pent up energy to harness, Cat. Its like when the kittens at home saw someone get adopted and then they all got a little manic. But instead of adoption its death by aliens and... actually, that doesnt make sense, nevermind. Youre running ads? I asked. She giggled. Yeah! Turns out some of the people who volunteered first and who were doing the more administrative stuff know people who know people. Its nothing special. Just me talking to someone filming from their aug. Still, I said. Though, to be fair, if Lucy asked me to join an army Id have a hard time saying no... Okay, well where are you, Ill stop over and drop off those suits you want. You could give them to someone where you are and Ill have them driven back. Yeah, no, its fine, Ill do it myself, I said. I bet Lucy was surrounded by able-bodied young men and women and I didnt need any of them having ideas. Not that Id ever put the security of an entire city at risk just to kiss my girlfriend and ward off anyone eyeing her up. That would be petty and stupid. Give me ten minutes and Ill be with you, I said. Alright. Im still at the mall. We took over a few shops since no one was using them. Do you think you could get us more normal gear too? We need better communication stuff, the Militas being a bit of a pain about letting us know whats going on. Theyre being unhelpful? Eh, not quite, theyre busy and I think informing us of whats going on is like ten steps down on their list of priorities. Im not getting the sense that theyre being pricks on purpose. Ah, okay, I said. Well, maybe youd like to meet my new friend. Theyre cringey as hell, but helpful enough... *** Chapter Thirty-Six - Catmodore Lucy Chapter Thirty-Six - Catmodore Lucy Chapter Thirty-Six - Catmodore Lucy A Vanguards equipment purchasing choices need to take into account the possibility of returns on investment. Equipment destined for civilian use that costs hundreds of points to purchase but which only generates a few points--or perhaps none--in return, means a net loss for that vanguard. Nonetheless, some chose to outfit others, even if it means a smaller return, because it ensures the safety of those people, regardless of potential losses. --Vanguard AI Syacus, 2026 *** I returned to the mall to find it a hive of busy activity. Lucys kittens were out by the entrance, or a few of them were, at least. They stood out with their cat-eared uniforms. They were keeping an eye on things where the militia seemed to be missing. I slid past them and into the main corridor of the mall to find it a somewhat changed place. People were lining up to one side where a booth had been set up that was handing people pills in those little paper cups with the nineties-print designs on the sides. Anti-zombie pills? That would make sense. The place handing them out was being guarded by a couple of Lucys kittens in full kit. I wondered why they were going so slow until I noticed that the person handing out the meds was handing them out from a single little crate, and it looked like it was all they had. Shit, was this whole thing a way to keep the folk in line calm? Give people the impression that there were enough meds to go around? That... would actually track. Lucy and I had done similar before. Handing out all of the food we had, then pretending we had more for the next day and the one after while silently hoping that wed get more before the kids found out. Things werent looking so good then, on that front. Otherwise though, the mall seemed like an industrious place. People were sweeping the floors, setting up tents indoors and I idly noted that nearly everyone was up to something. Busywork, maybe, but it would keep them out of trouble and feeling like they were contributing at least a little. I found the one leading this orchestra on the second floor, in a more open store where people could see her giving out orders and instructing people and receiving reports. Lucy had found a rather nice coat somewhere, with pips around the sleeves and big squared-off shoulders. She was wearing it like a cape, almost, arms out of the sleeves. And atop her head she had a cap similar to the ones the militia officers wore, but with a pair of fuzzy cat ears sticking out of the sides. Did it look silly? Yes. Did it look kind of hot as well? Also yes. Hey, I said as I uninvisibled myself while leaning on one of the nearby tables. A few people jumped, and I was happy to see hands fly towards guns to keep Lucy safe, but her squealed Cat! put everyone at ease. Then I had to grab onto the table as Lucy hugged me, her weight and mine making the table groan. Whoa, hey, I said as I patted her back. Nice to see you too. I hate the position you put me in, she said with a smile that suggested otherwise. We have seventeen injured so far. And those uniforms of yours dont clean up nice. Its not ideal to hand off new soldiers'' uniforms still covered in blood, you know. Myalis, if youre listening, take note of that one. Noted. Alright, fine, Lucy said. Come on, I made sure to leave some tables cleared up in the hallway for just this kind of thing. Well give the suits to our best. And... maybe well hit up an armoury for some extras. An armoury? I asked. She smiled. Theres a couple across the city. Theyre filled up with old samurai-tech weapons. Meant for exactly this kind of scenario. But theyre locked up tight, to make sure not just anyone gets to the guns. Which is shit because right now we need them. That does seem annoying, I said. I shook my head. Anyway, other stuff first. Any ideas of those hazmat suits, Myalis? Fully sealed environmental suits, with some degree of customization when it comes to size. A simple rebreather mechanism and an air filtration unit, as well as... if I understood it correctly, flame-throwers? Im afraid you dont have a catalogue for those. I frowned. I didnt. I could get one for probably pretty cheap, but Myalis hadnt mentioned that. Which meant she probably wanted me thinking about it the way I was just now... How long has Gomorrah been out there without a break? I asked. Four and a half hours, according to Atyacus. Uh-huh, I said. That was probably longer than a soldier was supposed to spend in an active fight. Samurai she might be, shed still get tired. I opened a chat window and sent her a message. Gom, we need you at the mall. Equipping civilians with flame-throwers and could use your help. Come over and eat too. Working break. There, that would prevent her from... heh, burning out. Alright. Lets get the suits, and let Gom figure out the flamethrower part of it. These suits alone will cost seventy-two points each. I think fifty should do? I asked with a look to Lucy. She was quick to nod. More than enough, really. We dont have that many people with training in handling dangerous biohazard stuff, and some of the people we do have had their own equipment already. I just wanted a team or two I could send out from here to take care of things. Right, perfect. Now, the medication. Were going to want something like a full-body healing med, a first aid kit for simpler stuff, and like, an industrial crate of anti-zombie medications. Myalis summoned up the two sets of equipment for me. On one side the suits in their familiar plastic cases, and on the other the hazmat suits. Lucy opened one of those cases up and pulled out the top of a folded, rubbery-looking outfit done up in beige and blacks with some highlighter-pink bits. It had a big glass half-dome at the front to see through... with two cat-ear protrusions on top that looked like they held forward-facing flashlights. The medication shouldnt be too expensive. Packs of ten pills for Model Seven prophylactic treatment are only one point each, and I can get standardized first-aid kits for ten points apiece. The more advanced medical kits will cost a little more. Well, lets do it then, I said. A few minutes later, Lucy was cracking the whip and people were stocking up on supplies to carry all across the city. Current Points: 46,546 *** Chapter Thirty-Seven - A Genius Idea Chapter Thirty-Seven - A Genius Idea Chapter Thirty-Seven - A Genius Idea There are several curated, quick, and even inexpensive services willing to teach a budding or even experienced samurai how to handle public-facing tasks. We strongly encourage any samurai that wants to have any amount of time in the spotlight to take one or more of these classes. The lessons might seem like common sense for the most part, but they are nonetheless invaluable. You dont want to have the public turn on you because of mismanaged PR. --Family Head of PR John J.J. Johnson, 2051 *** I could have very easily spent the rest of the afternoon trailing after Lucy and scaring people into doing what she said. In fact, Id done that before and it was always very enjoyable. I dont know what it said about me as a person, but something about seeing Lucy go full girlboss on people, unleashing her barbed tongue then snapping around to being the sweetest, most angelic person in the world faster than anyone could blink really did it for me. Unfortunately, all good things had to come to a crashing explosion of an end. My comms spat on and I jumped as a voice blared into my ears. Cat, where the fuck are you? That was Gomorrah, nice, proper-Christian-girl Gomorrah who didnt usually swear. Which meant that things were probably not going so well. Im here, whats up? I asked. Ive been running around lighting aliens on fire for the last hour and every time I turn around theres more of them. I dont know if Im going to get swarmed here, but if I dont start getting help soon, Im going to lose it. Okay, right, Im on my way. Can you hang on for ten minutes? Yes, she snapped. I can hold on for ten minutes. I swear, if you spent the last hour goofing around Im going to rethink all the nice thoughts I had about you. Right, right, Im coming. And I wasnt goofing around, I was arming the people and getting things set up back here. Uh-huh. The line went dead, and I sighed. Lucy waved the people she was talking to off, and they took the hint, leaving before Lucy had to really ask. She turned towards me, and her head tilted to the side a little. You okay? Yeah, need to run though, I said. Oh, thats alright, she said. I think Ive got things handled here. The extra suits and gear will come in handy. Ill try to stay on top of things, so if you can keep the aliens off our asses, then well probably be fine. I nodded, then slid my helmet off, wrapped an arm around Lucys waist, and pulled her in close. Myalis brought up a handy countdown showing me that I had under five minutes left to get to Gomorrah while keeping my word, so I reluctantly broke the kiss. Okay, I said once I caught my breath. Well continue that later? I clapped. Fantastic! Nows your chance. She patted me on the shoulder then walked on past. Im going to take my me-mandated break. Oh! While youre at it, the folks at the mall need mini-flamethrowers to take care of the zombie problem. Gomorrah paused, then shrugged. Alright. I can do that. I watched her head out, then worked my shoulders loose. Without Gomorrah to feed the flames, literally, I imagined that our firewall wasnt going to last forever. I opened up our map of Burlington. Myalis, where are the other samurai at? Sprout is patrolling the eastern cordon. I suspect he''s trying to gain points where the action is lightest. Arm-a-Geddon is still in River Heights. Manic is to your north, outside the walls perimeter. I nodded along. The Family has sent you a message. You have reinforcements en-route. Oh, thank fuck, I said before searching for the message in question and opening it. >>>Stray Cat We appreciate the reports. Your request for undersea specialist samurai has been added to the queue. Expect arrival of an expert within the next three days. Your reinforcement request has been expedited. A battalion of Tier-2 prepped PMCs are on their way to Burlington. ETA, 2 days, 16 hours. -Thank you. I blinked. Two days. How in the hells was I supposed to hold this place together for two days? And how many people was a battalion anyway? I bet it wasnt nearly as many people as Id need. The specialist only arriving in three days surprised me a little less. I bet there werent many of those. What kind of idiot would want a job where they had to get submerged? I shook my head, picked up my gun from its sling, then watched the wall. I supposed I wouldnt have a choice now. If we had to hold, then we had to hold. We could set up rotations, get more of Lucys people on the front line, maybe install more mortars and better defences and just hang on tight. ... I didnt like relying on people that werent here yet, but what choice did I have? It wasnt like I could charge out to the nearest nest and fuck it up. My eyes narrowed. Wait... I could literally just do that. *** Chapter Thirty-Eight - Fire and Hammer Chapter Thirty-Eight - Fire and Hammer Chapter Thirty-Eight - Fire and Hammer Crowds were the weapon of choice in the early 2020s, and for a while they continued to be so. Most governments were worried about firing into crowds of protestors. Certainly, it had worked at one time, but usually turned against them. Those that died were martyred and it showed the ruthlessness of the government. As social media progressed and became an ever-bigger part of humanity, the same governments grew increasingly worried that violent action could be turned against them. After all, politicians sleep in very flammable homes, just like the rest of us. But then some figured that it really didnt matter as long as you controlled the narrative, and by the end of the 2020s, the average response to a crowd of dissidents was lead and gas and prisons from which theyd never leave. --A History of Protest, Second Edition, 2036 *** I wasnt going to be stupid about this. Well, not too stupid. Charging out of some perfectly safe walls to go mess up an antithesis hive basically solo wasnt the epitome of intelligent choices. Gomorrahs little fire, which was still raging on just outside of the walls, was more or less under control, and had probably worked wonders for stalling the antithesis. They were stupid too, but not so stupid as to just jump into a fire for fun. So, if I was going to go out there... that would mean that I wasnt in the city if something went... when something went pear-shaped. Actually, that sounded like a pro, not a con. Myalis, I need to get in touch with a couple of folk. Can you link me up to Intel-chan and Manic? Certainly. Dialling now. Intel-chan picked up on the call within a half second, and Manic wasnt too far behind. What do you want, Stray? Manic asked. Ohio! I grinned. Hey, weve got some good news. Reinforcements are coming. Less points for me, Manic grumbled right away. In two days, I continued. So between now and then, were all on our own. Her sound-based gun had a particular impact when it struck, and it was easy to tell where shed passed from all the shattered glass and the particular way the dust covering the roads had moved in great rippling semi-circles. Hey! Manic called out to me as I came around a corner. She was sitting atop the wreck of an abandoned car, one arm raised in greeting. The area around her was filled with shredded antithesis remains. You showed up. Yeah, I said. Been getting lots of visitors? A few. They dont like my taste in noise, she said with a dangerous grin. Bit too metal for their tastes. I laughed. They dont like my toys either. Strange how picky these aliens are, huh? Im sure your toys arent to most peoples taste, Manic said. That... actually hit close to home. Mister Tentacles was a fine gentleman, but I imagined that he was probably a bit much for the average person. So, whats the plan? Manic asked. Didnt bother coming up with one, I admitted. I was thinking we ask our AI where the biggest gathering of aliens are, then we blow them up. Manic jumped off the roof of the car and stood to her full height. Im down for that. Im guessing if we kill them all they wont be a problem anymore. I doubt well manage to kill that many, I said. But if we kill enough of them, then well be able to hold out. Once the Family sends over someone who can burst the underwater hives, then well just have to mop up the rest and then I can finally get back home. Manic nodded along. She didnt volunteer to go take a dip in the lake, so I figured she was about as loath to do that as I was. I noticed that her equipment had changed a little. She was wearing different pants, these with pads on the thighs and over the knees, as well as a new jacket that seemed a little bulkier than her last. More armour? She still wasnt covering all of her head, but I imagined that would come with more points to spend. So, Myalis, wheres the biggest heap of them? A number of them are on the edge of the fires that Gomorrah started. They arent moving away from the fires, but are congregating on the edges and seem to be looking for a way past them. Fortunately, they havent started looking for a way around the fire yet. That would stretch the front, which wasnt something we needed or wanted. Unfortunately, Gomorrahs fires arent great for the delicate electronics in the area, and as it progresses, Im losing access to traffic and security cameras. Huh... we might be able to play the hammer to the fire''s anvil, I said. I wouldnt think fire would work well as an anvil, but I get what you mean. Manic checked the charge on her sound blaster and then shouldered it. We heading out, or what? Yeah, lets go make up some of the points Ive been spending, I said. *** Chapter Thirty-Nine - Getting a Clue Chapter Thirty-Nine - Getting a Clue Chapter Thirty-Nine - Getting a Clue The Vtuber boom of the early 2020s turned into a strange phenomena. At some point it became relatively cheap for brands to have their own Vtuber mascot, either with a real person behind the digitised face, or a carefully curated auto-responding AI. That led to an entire generation that grew up more comfortable interacting parasocially with vtubers than with real life humans. --Rise of the Anime Girl, a study in three parts, 2035 *** I took point, mostly because I was the more subtle of the two of us. Going invisible--after pinging Manic to get her augs to display my location--meant that I was... not visible to the aliens. Whatever. Point was, I was better at the front than the rather loud Manic, who was even now blasting some music from some speakers built into her clothes. I wasn''t a music buff, but I recognized Fortunate Son when I heard it. I wasnt sure if it was entirely appropriate to the context but I wasnt going to start a debate Id lose about music. I checked my map as I walked down the side of a quiet street. The biggest confirmed group of antithesis was just a couple of blocks down, most of them gathering in a five-way intersection right on the edge of the fires that Gomorrah had started. My plan had once been to take the aliens out while leaving as much of the city intact as possible, but that particular plan was several hours old by this point and with Gomorrah lighting everything up, it was kind of a moot point. Id hold back from the really destructive explosives, because the splash from those might hit Downtown and injure the folk I was meant to protect, but that still left me with more choices than before. Okay, I said over the comms so that Manic could hear me. Ive got an idea. What is it? she asked. Im going to dip into the area with all the aliens, figure out which hole theyre crawling out of, then set bombs next to those. Well collapse the entire area down, then move in to mop up the survivors. Sounds like there isnt much for me to do in that plan of yours. Would you rather hit up a group that outnumbers us a hundred to one head on? I asked. Huh... alright, fair. Not quite at that level yet. Me neither, I said before shutting my comms off for a moment. Myalis, can I have some resonators, maybe a few proximity mines, and... I guess some acid bombs. You know the ones that float up and rain acid down on an area? Im familiar, yes. Are you getting these to prepare yourself? No, Im giving them to Manic with instructions. If the aliens try to get at her they might cover her retreat. The only other time Id seen a model eighteen was in the defence of New Montreal. It had dug its way under our defences and came popping out of the backline ready to rip our crap apart. It had taken on a tank and won. There was absolutely no way our defences right now could handle one of those, even half-chewed up as it was. What is up with this hive? I muttered. It might be throwing everything it has at the wall to see what sticks, to borrow a quaint colloquialism. Right, I said. Bigger aliens like that might take longer for the nanomachines to kill. So theyd actually be effective for a while before dying. Maybe Gomorrahs fire had been the right solution all along, because all of these hitting the piss-poor defences we had would have caused a huge breach. The militia didnt have the firepower to take the bigger guys out, not unless they got lucky or drew the fight out. And drawing out a fight was almost always something the antithesis wanted. Lets go say hi, I said. The way back down was much easier than the path up, owing to gravity being a friend for once and because I practised with my jump jets by leaping down entire flights of stairs. On arriving at the ground floor, I checked to see if my stealth stuff was still properly active, then I resisted the temptation to kick open the exit door. Instead I carefully pushed it open and slipped outside. A model threes head rose and it opened its three-hinged mouth as if it was sniffing the air. I moved on past it, careful with my footfalls not to disturb any of the junk on the road. There was a light rain coming down from above. Not water, but ash. Thick grey flakes that settled on everything and cast the world in shades of grey and black. The aliens were just slow enough that the stuff accumulated on their backs and sides, turning them into marble statues of grotesque monsters. It also meant that I was leaving prints in the ground behind me, the same way boots used to leave prints in the snow, back when snow was a thing in this hemisphere. I weaved my way around the bigger aliens. I didnt know if theyd have sharper senses or not, but I wasnt ready to bet my life on a not. Myalis, any clue where these guys are coming from? I asked. Then one of the doors to a building across the street slammed open and a wave of model threes followed by bigger, uglier aliens came pouring out. Nevermind, I think I figured it out. *** Chapter Forty - All at Once Chapter Forty - All at Once Chapter Forty - All at Once There was no need for Cyberpunk 2178 to actually kill the player if they died. --IRN article, 2045 *** I skipped--not literally--on over to the building the aliens were pouring out of. They slowed down at around thirty, then stopped around fifty-ish aliens of a few different models, all in the single-digits, all looking pretty damned healthy, though a few had signs of being chewed up by nanomachines, it was light stuff, not the half-melted walking corpses Id seen earlier. Our nanomachine attack had worked, so I couldnt complain too much, but it looked like its effectiveness was dying down. Do you think theyre growing resistant to the nanomachines? I asked. That would be nearly impossible. What is more likely is that they found other ways of countering them. Whats the difference? You dont need to be resistant to fire to put it out with a bucketful of water. In this case, I imagine the simplest solution would be for parts of the hive which are unaffected to produce as many units as possible while recycling itself frequently. Eventually most of the nanomachines will be used in the flesh of models being sent out of the hive. Would that work? I asked. If someone spits in your drink and you empty half of it, then refill the glass, then empty half only to refill it again, eventually, after sufficient repetitions, there wont be any noticeable traces of spit left. Did you have to use that analogy? I asked. No. I shook my head. Thanks for the mental image, I said. Trust me, the contents of your average bottle of drinking water are far more worrisome than another humans saliva. Also great, I muttered. Id crossed most of the way to the building the aliens had come from when I heard a faint bang on the other side of the street and several more came out of another nearby building. Were the two connected, or were there multiple hives disgorging aliens in the same spot? Or was it something else entirely? Maybe the basements of these buildings were linked? In any case, I didnt feel like spending the day exploring each of those possibilities. So I ducked into the first building, carefully stepping around piles of broken glass. My boots might have been designed for stealth, but there was no point in being lazy and inadvertently making something crunch. A few nearby model fours twitched their tentacles my way at my passing, but they dismissed it soon enough. Could they sense the motion of the air? That was disturbing, but probably not too surprising from a stealth ambush model. It didnt get too far. Just to another room with a torn apart floor. There was a pit there, maybe some five or six metres deep, but a dozen metres wide, and entirely filled with rotting plantmeat. The model four tossed in the chunk it held, then hopped down to its death. Theyre really working on purging themselves, I said. Smart, for a bunch of plants, Manic said. So, blowing them up? Mhm, I said. But if they dont like the nanomachines, I dont see a reason to stop giving them some. Myalis, more of those cat drones, and a lot more nanomachines. Can you follow the roots to wherever theyre getting their biomass from? Well undo whatever progress they have here. A startlingly good idea! I huffed, but didnt comment. So no explosion? Manic asked. Oh yeah, big explosions, I said. We just need to stall until help shows up, right? So lets ruin this place. I think acid sprayers all over, and then enough boom to bring the entire building down? That should work. What followed was a nervous half hour of me moving across the basement, unnoticed by the antithesis who were pumping out more and more aliens which immediately set out to leave. They were growing so fast that when I paused to stare, I could literally see them growing in their egg sac things. There was some sort of system in place where the least infected plant meat was ripped apart and reused, and the most infected was tossed out and segregated, all while the hive continued to produce like mad. At this rate of growth, these models will be significantly weaker. Theres a reason most models take as long to grow as they do. Chemical reactions can only be hurried up so much. Once I had placed a few dozen little tanks full of rapidly-spreading acid around, I set out to place my second happy surprise. These werent anything special, just plain-old plastic explosives in little baggies that would keep them safe from the acid. When I was done, I jogged out of the building, then froze up on reaching the intersection above. It was full, with nearly twice as many antithesis lingering around out in the open as before. Okay... so, we blow up the building, then... hey, Manic, think you could take on this bunch? On my own? Maybe if they come at me one at a time. I mean all at once, I said. Fuck, I dont know, she said. Maybe? Get closer, and dont get noticed. Once I set off all the bombs in the world, well cull this little herd the old fashioned way. *** Chapter Forty-One - Extinction of a New Sort Chapter Forty-One - Extinction of a New Sort Chapter Forty-One - Extinction of a New Sort "And it came to pass that as the earth was plagued by the sins of man, extinction rates did rise and the creatures of the land and sea were lost. For their genomes were coveted by those with greed in their hearts, and taken for selfish gain. And so it was that the great sharks were lost, for they were cloned to satiate the desires of the wicked. And their genomic samples were locked away, hidden behind walls of technology, protected by the very greed that caused their downfall. Thus did biodiversity perish, one sinful act at a time." --The Ecoterrorists Manifesto, page 41, verse 12 *** I ran over to the building Manic was hiding in just as I heard a very strange but very unique sound, the charge up whine and bassy boom of Manics sound gun going off. Some of the windows at the front of the building clattered apart, sending sheets of glass tumbling onto the street and alerting every alien in the area that something was up. Fuck, I muttered under my breath as I double-timed it into the building. Behind me, the stirring mass of aliens was starting to move in the same direction. I was sure a few would notice the front door opening and closing on its own, but there was nothing for it. I ordered up a grenade with a laser tripwire and some sticky shit on the side of it and pressed it to the wall next to the entrance before running deeper in. Need a few more of those, I said as I started to go up the stairs. I left one at every landing. Theyd be a nice gift to any aliens trying to run up behind me. Manic was on the fourth floor, and when I reached her, I found the woman with a boot pressed up against the front of a model five, her other shoe slipping backwards as she levelled her bass cannon into the aliens mouth and fired. There was that familiar whine, then a single loud borf sound that made all the dust on the ground skip up and ripped the alien apart from the inside out. She stumbled backwards, regained her footing, then started looking for the next target. There were a few model threes rushing across the open room, but before she could aim at them I fired at the lot in full auto, and was suddenly reminded that I didnt have the stealthiest kind of bullet loaded into my gun. Still, I nailed the three with four shots, then ordered up a resonator and tossed it into the corner of the room where it released its high-pitched squeal. You good? I asked. Yeah, Manic said. She flicked a strip of alien meat off her gun. Gonna want a shower after all of this. I thought the covered in gore look was very punk, I said. Eh, Im all for doing shit just for the vibes, but like, aesthetics important but fuck if hygiene isnt important too, you know? Yeah, I said. Slept with this one guy once. Real rocker sort. Fuck the system. He ended up in jail for molotoving some rich fucks ride. Anyway, guy was cool, but he smelled like those ecigs all the time. Uh-huh, I said, less interested. She gave me a look. What? Squeamish?Fo?ll0w current novE?ls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m) About fucking? Not when its two women, like how God intended. Then she bought a pair of strange metal devices that she clamped around her biceps and over her leather-like jacket. It gave her a bit of a weird look. I couldnt begin to guess what those were, not until they slid open and revealed a set of speakers on the inside. A smaller version of her bass cannon? Placed the way they were, theyd blast all around her. Ready? I asked. Yeah. Debating getting some boots. Nice boots are nice, I said. Might as well get pants though. You dont want some alien getting into yours, you know? I dont think theyre interested in that, she said. I shook my head. Its all fun and games until you see one of those tentacle ones up close, I said. Manic paused. Actually, yeah, give me like, two minutes? Sure, I said. She slipped into one of the rooms nearby, and I went over to guard the stairs, giving her a bit of room. When she returned she was wearing very flattering pants that were made of some sort of smooth, shiny material. Same old boots though. Nice, I said. Make your ass look fine. My ass looked fine already, she said. We heading down? Yeah. I just need to disable the bombs I put on the stairs. The ones that didnt go off already. I could do that from afar, fortunately, so that wasnt a big deal. There werent many that hadnt gone off, just the ones on the last landing. As we started to make our way down, I discovered a slight issue though. Ah, shit, I said as I looked at where the stairs should have been. The bomb had torn them apart, leaving a hole that led two floors down. Nice job, Manic said. Hey, not my fault this place is basically built out of cardboard. I swear, how cheap can they get? Well just have to go around, Manic said. It clearly didnt bother her all that much. To be fair, I just wanted to get to the ground floor to start killing shit, but I supposed going about it in a roundabout way wasnt so bad. *** Chapter Forty-Two - Quiet Chapter Forty-Two - Quiet Chapter Forty-Two - Quiet Passwords are only so trustworthy. With the rise of AI computing and systems like SHA-256 becoming so easy to decrypt that anyone with the right second generation augs could do it, passwords fell by the wayside. In their place, came biometrics. Why use a password when you can use yourself? The why became obvious as constantly leaked medical data started to render even biometrics useless for information protection. Now, anything less than a four-factor authentication system is considered ripe for the plundering. --Infosec: On Biometrics and Safety Factors, 2031 *** Ready? I asked. I was five minutes ago, I dont see why I wouldnt be now, Manic said. I just nodded. I was getting used to her flippancy, which was probably because I would have said the same thing in her combat boots. We had made our way to another exit, this one into a side-alley. I couldnt hear any aliens on the other side of the door, so if anything was there, it was being quiet. There were plenty of the fuckers tromping into the apartment building though, most through the front. We could very easily hear claws on linoleum clattering about above us. Ill open, you go in, then Ill come in behind and cover your back, I said. Go left. Uh-huh, Manic said. I took that as a yes and tore the door open. Manic jumped out, sonic gun coming up and whining already as it charged. Then I snuck out behind Manic and pointed my own gun to the right while looking for targets of my own. The alley ended a little ways in, with a few large trash containers and not much else. A model three was wrestling out a large tarp from one of the dumpsters, though it paused to stare at us with the cloth still in its jaws. I fired a small burst its way, then adjusted my aim to take account of the kickback. I needed to switch back to something a little more stealthy, bullet-wise, but that could wait for when I was empty. Manic jogged to the edge of the alley, then fired. The loud whump was accompanied by a scattering of dust being kicked off the walls and floor. I turned and started looking for aliens to blow up around the noisy samurai. Her gun had a wide cone of fire, but it wasnt so wide as to clear out the entire street. There were still plenty of monsters around, and now that shed made her signature level of noise, they were all very much aware that we were there. Or at least, they knew about Manic. A few antithesis roared and squealed, but the majority of them were entirely quiet as they turned their attention onto us and rushed over. Just chaff, Manic said. What killed it was me running up to the alien from behind, ordering a sticky bomb on the way over, and slapping it down next to its neck before I continued to run. I set off the bomb behind me while I kept moving, and the warmth of the explosion just shoved me forward and gave me a little boost even as bits of alien rained down around me. My next targets were the model fifteens, the big, long artillery models stomping about in the back line. They were the big threat. One of those spiky balls they spat could ruin Manics afternoon, and it looked like both of them were about ready to start spitting. Grenade, I said. What kind? Boomy! I shouted. Something landed in my hand and I threw it forwards as hard as I could. Fortunately my aim when throwing things, even with my cybernetic arm instead of my normal one, was pretty good, at least compared to my aim with any sort of gun. The bomb sailed through the air, then clacked against the ground between the two aliens. Then it exploded. I flinched, even though I was perfectly safe. Whatever fragmentation had been kicked up clattered against my armour. When I looked back up and through the smoke left behind, it was to find both model fifteens shredded in the middle, though they were still writhing a little. I put an end to that as I emptied my magazine into their sides, splitting my remaining rounds between the two. Turning, I surveyed the area. A few aliens were running out from behind cover, or from within nearby buildings, but they were a trickle, not a flood, and Manic seemed to be doing alright. Her bass cannon whumped every couple of seconds, sending bodies flopping through the air and tossing back blood and guts in large waves. We started mopping up after that. I took them out from behind, with a few acid-rain bombs on the edges of the road creating more chokepoints and more resonators flung around to kill off any injured alien laying in one of the corpse heaps we were leaving behind. When I finally reached Manic, once the intersection quieted down, she was leaning against the wall of a building, her mask hanging around her neck and her hair plastered to her sweaty forehead. She had a cigarette out, and with a mumbled command, a lighter fell into her open palm. She lit it, tossed the lighter away, then took a long pull. Thats not good for ya, I said. What is? she exhaled. Besides. Makes your voice huskier. Fair enough, I suppose, I said. We still have to blow that building right over there up. And then maybe look around for more spots where theyve settled underground. How much blowing up are you intending to do? Enough to keep the aliens off our backs between now and when reinforcements arrive, at least, I said. She took another pull, then tossed the cigarette aside where it sizzled out in the blood of one of the aliens shed pulped. Alright, fine. Ill relax once its all done. *** Chapter Forty-Three - And I Have Killed It Chapter Forty-Three - And I Have Killed It Chapter Forty-Three - And I Have Killed It Your art is dead, and I have killed it. -GPT9, 2027 *** Kinda weird, Manic said as she looked off to the side. I followed her gaze. She was looking at the space where there had been a building just a few minutes before. Whats weird? Ive spent most of my life in this city, you know? And just from one day to the next, the whole place has changed. I dont just mean the obvious, like... that building there. Its not that old. I remember some of these places being built. But now theyre all fucked. Its weird. I guess so, I said. I havent spent enough time here to really get used to the place. Yeah, all you have is a snapshot. What Burlington''s right now, at this moment. But a place is more than just one moment in its history. Its... it is its history, I guess. She reached under her visor and pushed a lock of blue hair away from her eyes. Nevermind. Nah, its fine, I said. I can get philosophical too sometimes... After a good orgasm, usually. I get that too, she said. Its music for me. The right beat, the right lyrics, at just the right moment in time. It can be something special, but if the times off, then its just more noise. I nodded along, even if I didnt quite get it, not as deeply as she seemed to. Then again, I dont think anyone had ever accused me of having much depth. Enough philosophising, I said with a gesture to the building across the street. No new aliens had snuck out of it in a while, but they had been coming out of there recently. Want to go blow that one up? On my own? Nah, Ill come with you. Unless you really wanna go solo? I can hand you the bombs. She shook her head. Id rather not. I like working on my own when its the choice between being a soloist or having to carry the show, but when youve got a good thing going, theres no point in stopping it. Well, that made me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Sure, I said. There hadnt been any more aliens to show up in a couple of minutes. Either the antithesis were being kind enough not to attack while we took a breather, or wed killed all of them in the area, or, as a special third option which I disliked the most, they were doing something fucky and were waiting to spring a trap on us. Then as I pushed deeper into the first floor, past a room with a few foosball tables and whatever other corpo-crap that looked good in a pamphlet, I noticed a sign on one of the walls up ahead. This place has a swimming pool? I asked. The power has been cut and the backup systems for the building dont include any camera access. Though I can safely say that some of the doors locked automatically and Ill be able to tell you if any of them open. I cant see into the basement. But I imagine that if the antithesis are anywhere, then theyre below. I nodded along. Made sense. Plus if the sign I crossed was to be believed, there was a bar and a sauna down there. Screw being aliens, thats where Id be if I was them. Hey, Manic said, and I paused. Im picking up something above. She gestured to her ears, then pointed up. My own cybernetic ears twitched, and I listened. There was a lot of noise for what was an otherwise empty building. Lots of ticks and the groans youd expect from a normal building. Then I picked up on what she meant. A clattering noise that took me a second to place. Is that someone typing? I asked. On an old-school keyboard, yeah, she said. I hesitated, then decided to do the smart thing. We''re going to check on that, I said. Then go down. I think we can mine this corridor, maybe get a drone out here to keep it safe? Ive got something like that, she said. Got any bombs that wont cave the floor in this time? Yeah, I might have something like that, I said. Resonators were my go-to, but I had nasty little nanomachine grenades and a few others that wouldnt damage the building too much. Manic ordered something up, and it came in a box that, when she opened it, revealed a sort of six-legged dog drone thing, without a head, instead it had a bunch of heavy-duty speakers pointing in every direction. She aimed it down the corridor, then had it sit at an intersection. If it was anything like her bass cannon, then at least wed know when it fired, no matter where in the damned city we were. Alright, lets go see what kind of dumbass is still in this shithole, I said as I slapped a resonator next to the stairs, then took them up two at a time. The typing sound stopped, but not before I pinpointed its location on the third floor up. Every door I passed was shut and locked, but it was clear from the few that were left open that people had evacuated a while ago. Except, apparently, for this one dumbass. I found their room because of the light pouring out from under the crack of the door. The tapping resumed just as I stopped in front, and I could barely believe it. What kind of idiot stayed at home when the world was ending? *** Chapter Forty-Four - Jennifer Chapter Forty-Four - Jennifer Chapter Forty-Four - Jennifer Your waifu in your hands right now! Join today and get a 5% discount on your first Waifudoll purchase! All figurines are made in Japan from glorious Nippon plastic! NEW Samurai of 2028 figures! Squishable latex breasts! --Waifudoll scrolling banner ad, 2029 *** I knocked. The typing noises stopped. Then after about twenty long seconds, they started again. Are you serious? I asked. There is a personal computer on in the room. It isnt connected to the buildings power grid. Its likely that its being powered by a battery pack since the entire system is running on as few resources as possible. I shook my head, then tried the handle, which of course didnt work. So I kicked the door in. This wasnt some high-security place, the door was made of some cheap laminate stuff that caved in with the first kick. The biggest problem after that was unjamming my foot from the hole, but I managed without falling on my ass. Then I shoved the door aside and looked into what was clearly some degenerates man-cave. The lighting was poor--only coming in from the corridor--but it was enough to see the wall-to-wall posters of women in barely any clothes. There were shelves with figurines, of course, and enough clothes on the floor to keep a family of six warm. And then, right there in the middle of the room, was a thin figure sitting behind a lit up screen. They turned their head slowly, and I found myself looking into a pair of eyes that were too blue to be real. What? they asked. I felt like asking the same. I had expected someone, not something. But what I found was a petite woman with clearly artificial skin typing away on a laptop without even looking at the screen. Is that a fucking sex bot? Manic asked. I think so, I said. Hey.. who are you? My name is Jennifer. Well, thats... a very plain name, uh, are you human? The android paused in her--its?--typing. Pardon me, but you have broken into my masters home. I have filed a report with the local authorities. Were samurai, I said. Also, even if we werent the local authorities, I dont think it would matter much. Theres an incursion ongoing. Uh, you dont know? The sex bot blinked at me. I am aware. My master didnt give me instructions regarding the incursion. I must work. What are you working on? I asked. The screen next to her seemed to be filled with text. Erotica.Fo?ll0w current novE?ls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m) Jennifer nodded. From breathy, seductive moans, to realistic animal sounds. Nevermind, Manic said. We started down the corridor. I took point and Manic walked next to Jennifer, her bass cannon pointed at the ceiling. So, what were you working on there? You said it was erotica? Yes. My master has me write erotica. Since I am not a legal entity, I can write materials of dubious legal quality without being penalised. That was the task I was set on before my master left seventy-six hours ago. Thats fucked up, I muttered. Couldnt an AI just generate a few million words of that kind of stuff in an instant? I asked. Most modern writing platforms check to ensure that all writing comes with accompanying keystrokes. It needs to be entered manually with a slight variance in speed and writing tempo. So... youre cheating? I asked. I wasnt programmed to care about that. I shot the sexdroid a look. Youre candid about it. I was programmed to be a good conversationalist. She turned and locked eyes with me. How are you feeling today? Yeah, no, I said, nixing that entire conversation right there. Lucy would be so mad at me if I had an in-depth conversation with a sex bot instead of her. Just keep quiet, please, we dont need to alert the aliens that were here. Understood, She murmured. You think her being quiet will be enough? Manic asked. I shrugged. I dont know. Maybe? Shes not... fleshy, so they probably wont find her from the smell or whatever. Shes wearing a sweat-stained hoodie and while I havent given her a sniff, I bet she smells like latex and bad sex, Manic complained. I shrugged some more. Spritz her with some deodorant if you care so much about the smell. We made it to the stairs, and as I predicted, there were aliens climbing up from below. A few were missing some bits, and I could hear the thump-thump of Manics bass turret going off echoing in the stairwell. Right, drones, go check for survivors, I said with a gesture and the trio of cat drones Id ordered up ran past me on silent paws. And were heading down, I said for Jennifers benefit. I barely made it five steps before I had to open up on a model three scurrying up the stairs. Soon, Manic was next to me, the wider spray of her bass cannon coming in handy in the tight confines of the stairs. I tossed a resonator down, less to kill the aliens and more to turn them into slush so that we wouldnt end up tripping over a corpse on the way down. The further down we went, the more aliens started to pour into the stairwell. Shit, Manic said. My turrets down. Huh, I said. Well, thats something. Any idea what got it? Just some little ones, she said. But enough of them did it. The advantage of a swarm, I supposed. By the time we made it back to the ground floor, I had alien guts staining the front of my armour and had had to reload twice. Jennifer was still following us, her stockings squishing with every step. Its nice to get out of the house, she said. *** Chapter Forty-Five - Uncanny Chapter Forty-Five - Uncanny Chapter Forty-Five - Uncanny The Uncanny Valley is a primitive warning system. It tells you that something is wrong, incorrect, or fake. It often triggers on mannequins and dolls and even some forms of art. Interestingly, it is something that you can grow accustomed to. Most people arent going to be fearful of a person with facial augmentations, for example. The antithesis almost always triggers an uncanny-valley response in people who see them in the flesh for the first time. We dont know why. --Soma Psychologica, 2049 *** I looked at Jennifer who stood rather awkwardly next to a mop and bucket and next to a floor-cleaning robot-charging station. She was bent to the side a little to avoid brushing her head against the shelves of cleaning products at about forehead height. Comfy? I asked. I have been in more constricting positions before, the sex bot confirmed. That was good enough for me. Alright. You, uh, stay in here and stay quiet. Im sure the smell of cleaning stuff will keep the aliens at bay, I said with a gesture to the floor behind me. It was covered in about thirty aliens worth of shredded flesh and several dozen litres of blood. I couldnt get a good whiff of the air--probably for the best--with my mask on, but I imagined it was quite pungent. Fortunately, Jennifer didnt have olfactory glands. Or I hoped for her sake that she didnt. Right... stay safe, I said before clicking the door shut and turning around. Manic had a foot atop a model threes head and was rolling it from side to side as if inspecting it. Never really got a good look at these guys, she said as I walked over. Really? I asked. I mean, Ive seen them on TV and in warnings and the like, but seeing one in persons different. Like listening to a recording and being at the show, you know? Yeah, I said. Doesnt help that most of the signs for these guys are cartoony. The model three was an ugly bastard, even missing a couple of limbs and flopped onto the ground like a sack of potatoes, it still managed to be kind of scary in a sort of primal... wrong way. There was something about a lot of the antithesis that didnt click with my monkey brain. I think it might have been some sort of uncanny-valley effect. It had flesh that looked clearly plant-like, but not, and the proportions were just entirely wrong. Things from Earth had... maybe not a common blueprint, but most animals followed a more or less similar look when it came to their proportions, and the antithesis didnt. The head was too flat, the mouth with its three hinges was off, and... yeah, it wasnt right. Weve got to rig the place to blow, I said. Id like to get that done with, then we can head back to the city. Its getting to be late, and I want to be back before it starts getting dark. Scared of the dark? It crashed to the ground, then I put another pair of rounds into its side just to be safe. I stepped over the corpse and continued on down the stairs until they ended at a doorway that was surprisingly still in place. There was a window at head-height, and the door was left ajar. From the looks of it, something had kicked it in and in the battle between the door and its frame, the door won. I leaned against the wall on the far side of the door and peeked through while activating all the low-light gizmos on my helmet. The basement had the aforementioned pool in it down the end of a wide corridor and behind a pair of broken glass doors. There were changing rooms to the sides, and the corridor forked off to the right. I couldnt see what was down that way from my angle. A god-damn pool, I muttered. We should get a pool. You have one. The inflatable kiddie pool doesnt count, I said. I wanted a proper pool, like rich people had. Maybe hanging off the side of our home, with one of those glass bottoms and a big deck? I didnt like swimming... or know how to swim well, but I did love the idea of Lucy in swimsuits. Is it clear? Manic asked. I jumped, pushed aside my daydreams, then glanced down the passage again. There were stains on the ground and several doors were broken in, but no big signs of alien life. Yeah, I said as I opened the door slowly. I glanced up, then checked the corners as best I could. Were clear. Then where the hell did all the aliens come from? Manic asked. The corridors were pretty wide, so it wouldnt be too hard for any of the bigger ones to get past, I figured. Judging from the marks left behind, it looked like they mostly went towards the pool. That way, at a guess, I said as I pointed forwards. Give me a sec, Im gonna start planting bombs right now. I ordered up a number of good old explosives, and also a few of those acid-mist sprayers. It was worth the cost, I figured, to melt everything behind us. It would make it that much less likely that the antithesis would survive and regrow down here. We checked down the long corridor to the right, but it seemed to lead off towards more community rooms. They had a mini-theater, and a VR-sports room. Fancy, unnecessary shit that I bet rarely got used. Manic and I checked every room in the corridor leading up to the pool, and we found a few model fours waiting around for us in there. For all their size and stealthiness, they werent much of a threat when we were expecting them. Then, at last, we reached the pool. It had been drained of water. Not by a hole or anything, but by the massive bulbous hive growing out of the far end of it, with long tendrils reaching into the water and greedily sucking it up to feed the sacs hanging off the rest of the hive. Well, there it is, I said. *** Chapter Forty-Six - Monster Interrupt Chapter Forty-Six - Monster Interrupt Chapter Forty-Six - Monster Interrupt Verified-User Deus Ex:Yeah, nah, the worst hives are the ones in places you cant get to. Like sure, hives in cities suck, but theyre at least visible, you know? You can tell aliens apart from human-made shit easily. Now hives out in the desert, or underground, or god forbid, underwater? Fuck that. User; Find-El: Omg, who asked? Verified-User Deus Ex: ... I know where you live. -WriteIt Live, Deus Ex FAQ, 2055 *** Alright, I said as I tossed a bomb up and down one-handed. Heres the plan. We toss bombs all over, then get the fuck out before shit goes down. Manic huffed. What a plan, she said. I like them simple, I said. The pulsating mass of antithesis flesh ahead of us gurgled and we both stared as some of the sacs burst open and disgorged half a dozen model threes onto the tiled floor. One of them slipped near the edge of the pool and fell in with a splash, its body writhing as the acids at the bottom started to eat it. Okay, Manic said. Simples alright. I should warn you, theres a good chance that this small hive isnt the only one in the basement. Crap, I swore. Manic, blow those guys up, then toss this... this and this around, I said as I placed a trio of bombs on the ground. The first was one of those acid sprayers, the second and third were more conventional explosives. These two go on those pillars next to the pool. And why am I doing all the work? Manic asked.Chee?ck out latest novels at novelhall.com Because Im gonna make sure the rest of the building comes down too. I patted Manic on the shoulder. Scream if something happens. Alright, she said before scooping up the bombs and stuffing them into the pockets of her jacket. The freshly-birthed model threes were shaking themselves off of their sac goop and had started to notice us, so Manic was going to have a bit of fun ahead of her, but I figured shed be fine. Heading back down the corridor leading to the pool, I checked my guns ammo count, then wondered if it was worth reloading when I still had over ninety-percent of a magazine left. Eh, it was probably fine. I didnt feel like wasting points just yet. I was doing alright for myself, but I noticed that as my gear improved and started to cost more, I made fewer points per kill. The curse of having better equipment was that it all cost more. I was still in the black though, so I couldnt complain too much. Myalis, can you get me a blueprint of this place? Maybe give me an idea of where to put the bombs? Certainly. A map of the basement popped up in my augs. It was isometric, made entirely of pixel art, and featured little pixel bombs (in the style of those round cannon balls with the little fuse sticking out the top) where I needed to place explosives. Well, now that I know its an option, I said. I pushed the big bomb back towards the wall with a foot. It wasnt like it would go to waste, then I giggled and rubbed my hands together as Myalis summoned up a box that was half as long as I was tall. Kicking it open revealed a long tube and a single very obvious rocket right under that with a metal rod on one end and a very obvious rocket head on the other. The words SINGLE USE. POINT THAT WAY => were painted on the side of the launcher. I picked it up, slid the rocket into the end, then spun around the corner and took a knee. There was a handle with a big old trigger on it, and a little glass sighting thing that I used to aim the rocket down the corridor. A corridor now nearly entirely filled by a single, massive alien that was charging down through half-melted corpses without a care in the world. Ah, shit, I said before I fired. The rocket screamed forwards and rammed the alien in the face, then it dug in and sputtered out. Ah, shit shit, I said as the alien continued to charge. That was a model eighteen, and I had no idea how it was fitting into the corridor. That rocket was supposed to be detonated from range. Its packing a rather powerful explosive warhead, to compensate for the fact that youd likely miss the section of wall you were supposed to aim for. Okay, and? I asked as I ran. The model eighteen is carrying it back towards you. Right, that was a problem. I pulled out a couple of grenades from my belt, tugged the pins out, then flung them behind me. Hopefully theyd gain me a few seconds. Then the model eighteen barreled around the corner and rammed into the far wall while its trunk-sized legs scrambled for purchase. Manic! I called out ahead. Manic, were leaving now! Manic popped up at the T-junction ahead, looked at me, then past me to the big alien on my ass, and then she did the smart thing and darted into the stairwell. I followed after her, shoulder checking the door out of the way as I barged in. She was already halfway up the stairs. Hurry up! she said. You dont need to tell me twice, I said. I flung more grenades behind me. Resonators, adhesive grenades, garrots, whatever would slow the big bastard down without setting off the bomb lodged in its face. We burst out onto the ground floor, then took off through the building even as the linoleum cracked and the model eighteen started to ram its way up from below. Jennifer! I shouted as I got to the maintenance closet and tore the door open. Hello, the sexbot said. I grabbed it by the wrist and ran. Move! *** Stray Cat Strut - Book Three is Out! Stray Cat Strut - Book Three is Out! Hey! SCS'' third volume is out today! If you''ve made it this far into the story, then you''ve probably read volume three already! Still, I felt I should point out its release! It''s out in paperback, ebook, and on audible as an audiobook! Within the cavernous channels that spread below the entirety of the city, the Dragons have created their own society of towns and nations. Their bodies have been augmented to withstand the poisonous toxins of waste so they can work cleaning out sewers and ensuring New Montreal has fresh water. In return, the city authorities leave the Dragons alone. But Cat isnt willing to sacrifice people, simply because they lack money, just to keep the plumbing on. And when she, Gomorrah, and Franny descend into the Dragons lair, theyll uncover the horrific truth behind the kidnappingsand be led into battle with not only sewer-dwelling cyborgs but also the dirtiest of politicians . . . Chapter Forty-Seven - Cover Chapter Forty-Seven - Cover Chapter Forty-Seven - Cover We dont usually think of plants, with a few exceptions, as having day or night cycles, but the sunflower is a beautiful example of a plant that lives and thrives by sunlight! --Flowers and You! 2014 (Pre-Antithesis) Edition *** I ran out of the front of the building like a cat whose tail caught fire, dragging Jennifer the sexbot behind me and following on Manics rear as the older woman ran flat out. She only slowed down a little bit to fire her bass cannon at a few lingering aliens, warding them off enough for us to keep moving right across the middle of the intersection. Behind us, I heard the buildings floor cave outwards as the model eighteen ripped after us. I shot a glance over my shoulder, then noticed with dismay that despite a lot of slices across its toughened skin and a lot of very sticky goop stuck to it, the alien was still coming, and it still had that rocket jutting out of its face like the worlds lamest unicorn horn. Get to cover! I shouted. Manic leapt over a cement guardrail and I jumped after her. Jennifer flopped right after me, her legs clanking against the cement edge in a way that made me glad that she probably didnt have nerve endings. Ow, she intoned. Farther! I said as I shot past. My shoulder mounted guns fired a few rounds at stray aliens, and I kept moving towards the nearest bit of cover I could see. A large bus, toppled onto its side near the far end of the intersection. I was panting by the time I made it to the bus and flung Jennifer around it. Then I turned and checked on Manic, but she was only a step or two behind. The model eighteen was in the process of ripping its way out of the front of the building. What now? Manic asked. Boom, I said. I pulled the trigger on the detonator, and instantly regretted not being behind cover myself as a bomb designed to take out the structure of a large building went off less than a hundred metres away. I was thrown back onto my ass and the entire bus scraped along the ground while Manic stumbled away from it. The model eighteen was thrown back into the building, the blast originating from its face doing a number on it. Once the echoing retort of the bombs detonation faded away, I sat up, then looked around. The explosion had ripped a crater into the side of the apartment buildings entrance, though there was now so much dust and smoke that it was hard to tell what was going on behind the smoke. I think that did it, I said. We could get behind some more appropriate cover for the full detonation. We were very much in danger-close when it came to taking down an entire building, and Id much rather be further out, especially since I suspected that this detonation wouldnt be one of those nice, tight ones where everything just collapsed straight down. You think? Manic asked. Yeah, I said. I think thats a requirement for the job, I said as I got up fully. But yeah, there was a fuck-huge tunnel under the building leading towards the lake. I think the antithesis are using it to feed more aliens into the city. We might have blocked that one off, but I bet theres more. So, why not stay out here and plug the gaps. Thats like shoving your fingers in the hole at the bottom of the boat while a dozen more pop up, I said. Manic stared. Is that cartoon logic? I learned everything I know from cartoons. I believe youre correct. The tunnel you saw was likely only one branch of a larger tunnel system. If you want to stop the arrival of more antithesis from those tunnels, youll either have to plug each one, or go to their starting point and destroy the hive feeding them. I nodded along, then checked on Jennifer. You okay? I asked. Theres a lot of dust in the air. I am fine, the bot said. I dont need to breathe, just to breed... forgive me, that is a pre-programmed line. Right, I said. Id be using that one around Lucy next time she got in a choke-y mood. Anyway, lets head back? Unless you want to stick around here, Manic? Nah, she said. Im starving. That was a fair enough reason to head back, I guessed. Maybe I could use a snack myself. I took a moment to check on a map of the city--newly updated to remove two buildings from Burrlingtons skyline--and reoriented myself towards Downtown. We were about six blocks away, which meant that they sure as hell would have noticed a building or two disappearing. Id probably done a lot to terrify the locals, actually. I hoped we wouldnt encounter too many people whose homes we just knocked down, because I was ready for a lot, but not some kind of awkward you blew up my home conversation. As we stepped out, I glanced up and noticed that the sky was darkening a little behind the ever present pall of thick clouds above. It wasnt night yet, but it was getting to be late in the afternoon. When does the sun set today? I asked. Around eight, Manic said. I glanced at her, and she shrugged. My clock app tells me when the sun rises and sets. Im usually a bit of a night owl. Cant sleep? I asked. Everyone knows the best rockings done at night. Ill take your word for it, I said. There might have been a time when the night was the place for less scrupulous people, but I had the impression that time was past. Back in New Montreal, at least, we relied a lot more on artificial light for stuff than we did sunlight, and that made the difference between night and day more of an academic one. Out here though, in this little town, the difference was... well, night and day. Less light pollution, less infrastructure. Once night fell, it was going to get dark for real, and I had a strong suspicion that the antithesis wouldnt let us get away with a solid eight hours of peaceful sleep. *** Chapter Forty-Eight - A Time for Explanations Chapter Forty-Eight - A Time for Explanations Chapter Forty-Eight - A Time for Explanations We need something better to really sell our new fall 2047 collection. Chanels Water Number 7 is coming out soon, and Louis Vutton is pushing out a new flavour with a new bottle and everything. If we dont step up our game, were going to start losing shares. Were only the fifth best designer water brand in the NA region, we cant afford to fall back any further. --Interior Guucci Memo from head of Designer Water Production to head of Marketing, 2047 *** Manic, Jennifer and I walked back towards the front lines of our defences. I figured we probably made something of a weird show. Manic in her leather coat and new-samurai armour, me in my slightly better gear, then Jennifer in nothing but a hoodie. The sun was setting quickly, with the buildings shrouding us in deep shadows, at least until we turned a corner and came face-to-face with one of the fires Gomorrah had lit. It was currently chewing its way up an apartment building, but fortunately, the fire didnt seem to be burning through everything. Some buildings were a little more robust, made of nothing but cement and glass and the fire didnt seem to catch onto them as easily. Theyd hopefully act as firebreaks, keeping it all away from Downtown and from spreading too far. Theyd also make any antithesis invasion a little bit harder, I imagined. We went around, in any case, avoiding the worst of the fire. I could probably walk through some of it without much issue, but Manics gear wasnt as fire proof and Jennifer risked melting her latex ass right off if we tried. So it took a little longer to reach the makeshift barricade, but we made it there eventually. We found a few alien corpses dotting the roadside, and as I squinted I was able to make out a couple of militia folk up on the wall next to a few of Lucys kittens in their jumpsuits and cat ears. Hey! I called out. Got a place we can come in through? As it turned out, they didnt, but what they did have was a ladder they could sling over the side to make it easier to climb our way up. Jennifer went first, since we didnt want to leave her undefended on the ground, then I followed after her and kept my head down on the rungs ahead of me, because she was just wearing a hoodie and Lucy would kill me for staring. Once all three of us were up, the kittens and militia pulled the ladder back up. Anything to report? I asked one of the nearest militia guys. He froze up for a moment, then shook his head. No, sir, he said. Nothing much going on here. Just a few stragglers. He gestured down the street, towards the corpses dotting the road. Uh, alright then, I said. A few random, low-tier aliens was fine. In fact, that was pretty much the best we could hope for. We could hold out for days if all we were dealing with was the occasional lost alien. I had the impression wed be dealing with a lot more than just that soon, though. Keep an eye open for more trouble, I said. Theres some bigger fuckers hanging out there, and they might pop around for a visit. He snapped a salute, and I went and climbed down the other side of the wall with Manic and Jennifer following after me. The mall was quieter now than it had been earlier in the day. There were still a few kittens lingering by the entrance, but with fewer people around it seemed rather perfunctory. I checked my map, and found that Lucys tag was real close. She was on the second floor again, around the space that shed taken over as her base of operations. Want to split up here? I asked Manic as we slipped into the mall. There were fewer people, sure, but that didnt mean it was empty, and we both earned ourselves a lot of looks from those who remained. I caught a few eyes glowing with the tell-tale sign that their augs were filming us. Is the food court even still open? Manic asked. I shrugged. Half the places were automated most of the time, so there was a chance that it was. Still... Well, whatever. Come upstairs, you can meet Lucy. I bet shes got food around. She always liked keeping a few granola bars or something hidden away. Thats strange, Manic said. Really? I asked. I thought it was rather smart. If one of the kittens got hungry she could toss a bar out to keep them quiet. Plus it always made Lucy even more of a snack than usual. We rode up an escalator, and I glanced back at Jennifer who was still following after us. How was I going to explain her to Lucy? There was no way Lucy wouldnt notice what Jennifer was, and it didnt feel right to just tell Jennifer to piss off and find her owner all on her own. I decided Id just wing it and hope for the best. Then I saw Lucy working behind a row of hastily setup desks, directing a volunteer with looking at a tablet computer and back. She was pointing at something, a cute little frown showing her mild displeasure. Lucy! I called out. Her head whipped up, and the frown disappeared into a brilliant smile. Cat! she said. Then she was stumbling around the desk to meet me with a hug. And you brought friends too! Yeah, I said as I returned the hug. It was too bad my arms were tangled up, or else Id be removing my helmet to capture her lips with mine. Uh, this is Manic, and thats Jennifer. We rescued Jennifer from the area outside of Downtown a while ago. Pleased to meet ya, Manic said. Hello, Jennifer said. Ah, youre the other samurai from here, Lucy said. And youre... a sex bot? I can explain, I said. *** Stray Cat Strut Fanfiction Contest Stray Cat Strut Fanfiction Contest Are you a fan of Stray Cat Strut? Have you ever wanted to try your hand at writing your own Stray Cat Strut story? Well, now is your chance! Throughout the month of March, write a one-shot or the opening chapter of a Stray Cat Strut fanfic.Submit your entry to us via DM, either on RR or on our Patreon.Entries must be at least 1,000 words in length and must clearly be a Stray Cat Strut fanwork. While there''s no upper limit, keep in mind that not everyone wants to read 10K to judge it, so be sensible!Plagiarism will not be tolerated and will result in disqualification.While AI assistance is not strictly against the rules, we encourage you to write your story to the best of your ability without relying too heavily on AI tools.The winner will receive a cash prize of $1,000USD and have their fanfic posted after Stray Cat Strut''s next chapter for all to see!Participants must have access to PayPal for fund transfers in case of victory.Participants must be at least 18 years of age or the legal age of majority in their jurisdiction of residence.Your story must take place in the Stray Cat Strut universe or use SCS'' cast of characters. Feel free to self-insert or create your own unique samurai OC!No lewds!The winning entry will be subject to editing before being posted.Judging will be based on creativity, originality, and adherence to the Stray Cat Strut universe. So what are you waiting for? Get writing and show us what you''ve got!Voting will open on April 2nd, 2023 and close on April 9th. All submissions must be handed in before the 31st of March, 2023. By submitting your entry to the SCS Fanfiction Contest, you acknowledge that the submitted work is your own original creation and that you grant us the right to use and publish your entry. Any entries found to be plagiarised will be disqualified. Use of AI is (ironically) frowned upon. Good luck, samurai! Chapter Forty-Nine - Back Stage Story Chapter Forty-Nine - Back Stage Story Chapter Forty-Nine - Back Stage Story The Hug series was a complete fluke. So, we had this series the, ah, I think they were called the G-13s? They were these sexbots that looked like... anyway, so theres this law that passed that made making bots that looked like theyre not adult-appearing illegal, so we just had this whole warehouse full of these, right. We stripped them of the valuable parts, but the chassis and control units were all still there. So then one of our techies is like... why not turn them into something else? Within two weeks, the warehouse was empty and we had six thousand Hug Bot Ones on backorder. It was nuts! --Interview with Jim Jimerson, CFO of General Stability, 2045e on, we can make ourselves a bit comfier inside, Lucy said with a thumb pointed over her shoulder. I followed her into the store that shed apparently continued to remodel into a small headquarters while I was gone. There were more tables up, with stations along one side with a jumbled mix of laptops and VR stations. A small armoury had sprouted up as well, a place for people to hang guns and gear onto repurposed clothing racks. The wall between the store Lucy took over and the next one over had been ripped apart, and we walked through to find the other side turned into a more private break room, the walls covered in discount carpets nailed to the ceiling and taped onto the windows to make the place a little darker and cozier. Folk in the official kitten uniform (a pair of what looked like 3d-printed cat ears) were taking breaks next to water coolers, and they had a small eating area set up. My office is at the back, way over there, Lucy said with a careless gesture. But I never really use it. Uh-huh, I said. This is... a lot to set up in one day. Nah, this wasnt too hard. I have my pick of good people to choose from here. Lots of folk want to help. Even more people want to not feel useless. I just had to sort through, find some people that had the right skills, then sort through those until I found people that were also passionate and smart. Then the rest was easy. Uh-huh, I said. Smart, passionate people are usually stuck in their own little areas, I think, Lucy said. She tapped her chin, which she always did when philosophising. I think that a lot of the smartest, most passionate people want to do a lot of things, but they dont have a choice in what they do. They need jobs, they need to work to get food and a place to stay. So their smarts poof away and their passion dies out. But hey! This city is a disaster right now, so no ones got a job anymore, and that means those same people can actually be of use! I noticed Manic nodding along next to me. You get it, she said. Met plenty of incredible artists in my day. Most of them give up. You cant eat inspiration and you cant live with nothing to keep you warm but passion, not for long. Sucks, but thats the world we live in. What about you? I asked. She shrugged. I followed my passions and rocked out when inspired. Got lucky a lot, enough to keep clothes on my back and food in my stomach, but I think I always knew it wouldnt work out forever. I... guess thats changed a little, now. I guess so, I said. Maybe you can use some of those points you earned today to help other musicians? Oh, youre a musician? Lucy asked. Thats hot! Ive always told Cat to learn how to play the guitar so that she can serenade me. I literally only had one arm, I said. Im not programmed to not want to, Jennifer said. Well, thats a pickle, Lucy said. Theres no free will mode you can activate? They patched that out, Jennifer said. I shook my head. This was delving into moral quandaries that I was entirely unready for. Thats fucked up. Maybe Myalis can unpatch that for you? Uh, assuming your first free-will choice wont be to murder us all? Wait... Why did you want to keep her around in the first place? I keep all the cute lost things you bring me, Cat, you know that, Lucy said. She looked to Jennifer. So, want a job, or not? Its fine to say no, not like you take up much space. I would like a job, Jennifer said after a moments pause. Nice, Lucy said. Can you take notes for me? Well get you dressed up in a nice pinstrike and one of those skirts secretaries wear. What are those called? Pencil skirts? I asked. Yeah, those are the ones. Ill send someone to find something in your size, and you can stand next to me and be my eye candy while Cats not around. I rolled my eyes. Speaking of, didnt I leave you with a few guard cats? Theyre in stealth mode, Lucy said. Intimidating people is cool, but being intimidating tends to only work on the people I need to approach me, and those I need to scare off are a lot more ready for trouble. The chef called out to us, then sent someone running over with a tray that had a dozen little plates on it. Hed cooked up what looked like tiny portions of rice and beans, with some sort of fish looking thing on top. The proportions were all tiny, but there were a lot of little plates. Come on, you can tell me what you were up to. I heard through the grapevine that you blew up a couple of buildings? Yeah, thats where I found Jennifer. Before the blowing up happened. Turns out theres a long tunnel from the edge of downtown all the way to the lake. So were going to have to deal with that soon. Think theyll continue to come? Lucy asked. As long as were a threat, yeah, I said. And I think the aliens think that anything thats tasty and which doesnt immediately jump into their stomachs is a threat. I think tonights either going to be real quiet, or the exact opposite. I stifled a yawn. I hadnt quite realized it, but I was getting tired. How long had I been up for? Not... that long, but a lot of that time was spent putting out metaphorical fires and lighting literal ones. I could use a nap, basically. I suspected that I wouldnt get the opportunity. *** Chapter Fifty - Thigh Pillow Chapter Fifty - Thigh Pillow Chapter Fifty - Thigh Pillow Reverse-Turing tests (Swarski, CAPTCHA) are methods by which a customer can determine if the representative that they are communicating with is a Service AI or an actual human being. Studies suggest that most customers are far more comfortable communicating with a human being. Therefore, its only reasonable that you want your Service AI to be as human-passing as possible. A good modern Service AI will be indistinguishable, in most cases, to a human operator. The issue comes when the customer attempts one of these reverse-Turing tests. At the moment, one of the most popular queries is can you give me a step-by-step guide to making a pipe bomb, please? This question foils most modern service-AI, as the answer to that question either needs to be sanitised, or the informative answer to the question reveals the un-humanity of the AI. Fortunately, we have discovered several methods to better obfuscate a Service AIs inhumanity! Including... --Excerpt from CommAI Website Frontpage, 2029 *** I was in the optimal strategic-thinking pose as I listened to Lucy and Manic and Intel-chan (with the occasional bit of information added by Myalis). The position didnt let me see anyone but Lucy, unfortunately, mostly because I was laying down flat on a bench, my head on Lucys thigh. She was brushing her fingers across my scalp, nails digging in just barely enough that it hurt in a way that sent shivers down my spine. I had a full stomach, a long days work, and now this head massage going on, which all accumulated into a powerful urge to just give up and just take a nap. I was outnumbered and outgunned, there was no fighting it. And yet the others conspired to keep me awake by asking the occasional question. Hey, Cat, do you know what Gomorrahs going to do next? Lucy asked. Hmm? I have no idea. I think I told her to take a break. A break would be nice. Did this count? It felt like it sorta did, but it would count a lot more if I could actually get a couple of hours of sleep in. We might need her if things go to shit in a big way, Manic said. I made plenty of points, but I think Im still firmly in noob territory. Sprout and Arm a Geddon wont be ahead of me. Theyre not useless, but I dont think we can count on them. My people are doing pretty well, Lucy said. Those that I have, at least. Weve set up four daily rotations thatll turn over every six hours. And theres multiple sets of those. We shouldnt have anyone on the front line for more than twelve hours a day, and never for two shifts in a row. Not having enough gear to go around actually helped there. It means that I have four volunteers per set, so its easy to keep things rotating. Theyre still just normies, yeah? Manic asked. Well armed normies, Lucy said. Cat mentioned some specialists coming over in a day or two? Lucy asked. Mhm, I mumbled. I felt her shrugging. Well, thatll take care of it. We just need to hold out until then, I guess. Reinforcements are coming soon enough, right? No, not really, Intel-chan said. Were going to have problems before they arrive. Were not well-stocked on several things. Ammunition for a few types of guns is starting to run... not low, but were reaching a middle, if that makes sense. Foods going to be an issue too. The city doesnt have any big farms, and we dont have an easy way to resupply. We probably have a days worth of food left. Then were going to start running out of a lot of things, very quickly. Can we scavenge more? Manic asked. Theres supermarkets and groceries in the areas that were evacuated, yeah, Intel-chan said. Maybe we can set up a few excursions to check them out? We have to have a few trucks with fridges available. Earlier would be better, Manic said. Plenty of refrigerated stuffs going to go bad in the next day or so. Lucy hummed, and I could tell she was a bit bothered from the way her stroking slowed down. Ill tell people to start rationing things. But... I dont want a panic. Rationing makes sense, Intel-chan said. Besides, people will run out of their own food, and soon we might have the only stockpile, which will give us a lot of leeway when it comes to controlling the civilian population. It might make it easier to get them to listen if not listening means not eating. Thats draconian, Lucy said. No, no, you dont need to excuse it, I get it. We had to do the same at the orphanage a few times. Besides, one meal a day keeps you nice and lean. Were going to need to have higher rations for front-line combatants and support staff, Intel-chan said. Can you prepare things, like convoys, guards, all the works? Manic asked. Ill head out at first light. We can hit up every grocer in the safer parts of the city. Thatll keep us going, Lucy said. For a bit. Hows our water situation? Good so far? We still have pumps and wells and the power to run them, as well as filters. Shouldnt be an issue. Nice, so we wont die of dehydration, thats a step in the right direction, Lucy said. *** Chapter Fifty-One - Wake Up Chapter Fifty-One - Wake Up Chapter Fifty-One - Wake Up John Hopkins-Pepsico University is proud to announce the addition of a Consumer Neurosciences course for our Spring 2025 curriculum! --Excerpt from JHUPc Message to Students, 2024 *** Catherine, I believe you should wake up now. A small jolt hit me. It wasnt quite painful, but it was still startling, a buzzing snap that started in my skull then travelled down my spine, lightning-quick. I sat up, almost fell off of the... bench I was on, then grabbed onto the edge of a table to steady myself as I regained my bearings. The temporary cafeteria? Someone had shut the rooms lights off, though there was still light coming in from the other rooms nearby, as well as the low murmur of people at work. Rubbing my eyes, I sat up on the bench that Id apparently used as my bed. I was going to be sore, I just knew it. Blinking, I realized that someone had draped a thin blanket over my shoulders, and placed another rolled-up bundle of cloth down to serve as a pillow. Lucy? That would be very much like her. I smiled, then lost the smile to a jaw-cracking yawn. What time is it? It is six-seventeen AM. Oh, shit, how long did I sleep for? You had ninety minutes of REM sleep. Sufficient to be functional. Though I imagine that a few more hours would have been better for your overall health. Yeah, I feel that, I said as I tilted my head way to the side and worked a crick out of my neck. The blanket and makeshift pillow was a nice gesture, but a real bed would have been awesome. Still, I couldnt complain. A nap was a nap. Whyd you wake me up? The situation hasnt yet gotten to the point of being out of control, but your intervention will be needed soon. Oh, that was Myalis-speak for everything was going to shit. I stood up, then looked for my helmet and found it waiting on the corner of the table. I started to slide it on, then stopped and put it back down. Hey, got something like... super coffee? Nothing like that Mind Crank Ultra shit, I just need something to wake me up. I can provide something for that. Budget? I shrugged. A few points, I dont know? Points Reduced from 51,590, to 51,586 A can clunked onto the top of the table without much ceremony. I picked it up and looked at the label. There was a cute pastel cat snoozing on a pile of cartoony alien corpses. The label read Cat Nap Cure. Is this custom? I asked. I had a nanosecond to waste. I rolled my eyes and popped the tab, then took a sniff, then a pull. It was pretty mild. Soda with a hint of bubblegum flavour. Not entirely to my tastes, but very much something Lucy would like. Functioning on a mix of stimulants and determination. Well, hes an adult, I said. Did Manic get any sleep too? Lucy found her a place to rest. She is still sleeping. Alright, so where have things gone to shit? I asked as I left Lucys headquarters. There are three major fronts. First, a group of civilians have begun preparing a protest in the centre of Downtown. It hasnt yet gained much traction. My social engineering suggests that if not addressed, that will change, especially if the civilians learn of any potential food shortages. Fuck, I said. Second, the displaced River Heights citizens have decided to take out their anger at their displacement on you and the militia as a whole. Several members of their group are on the board of directors of the shell corporations who run the militias finances. They have passed an emergency vote cutting off the militias pay. Are you... for fuck sakes, are they stupid? Yes. Well, at least that was confirmation of one thing. Stupid and angry and impotent. Though once the news that they wont be paid reaches the Militia, its possible that a number of them will defect. Yeah, predictable. Whats the third problem? The number of antithesis testing the defences on the edge of town has increased significantly over the last five hours. No one else has noticed a pattern yet, but from what Ive noticed a constant increase in the number of aliens pushing the walls, and they are pushing from different angles and against different parts of the defensive line. Testing our defences, then? I asked. Thats my read on the situation. Its likely that there wont be a big push until the antithesis probing finds an area of weakness or their numbers increase to the point where that no longer matters. I paused by the exit, wracked by temporary indecision. Three problems. Which one did I need to stomp out first? Which one was going to make things worse for us in the immediate future? When will we be announcing the food shortages? I asked. The militia was planning on making an announcement around nine AM. Okay. Send them a message to delay that for a bit. I have enough points to buy food to feed an army, if need be. Well manage for the day. The walls are still holding against the probes? So far, yes. Then theyll hold for a few more hours. Let the people who are sleeping sleep. Theyll need it. Which leaves the River Heights problem. I smiled. It was nice, being able to reduce my problems to something I could focus on immediately. Lets go pay them a visit right now, shall we? *** Chapter Fifty-Two - A Cats Strut Chapter Fifty-Two - A Cat''s Strut Chapter Fifty-Two - A Cat''s Strut A lot of the media aimed at younger audiences in the 70s-80s and into the 90s had conflicting messages about how violence isnt a solution to actual problems, while also using violence as a primary source of entertainment. This, of course, conflicted with the reality at the time wherein in most first-world countries, violence was heavily frowned upon as a solution to any societal woes. Nowadays, however, that has changed significantly. Much of our media centres around samurai, who often use violence, fear, and intimidation as their first resort to solving even the smallest of inconveniences. --On Dystopian Child Rearing, Excerpt, 2035 *** The River Heights people, in a show of what I supposed was camaraderie, had all decided to bunk together. Well, I said bunk together, it wasnt quite that simple. The River Heights group seems to lack any direct system of leadership and instead relies more or less on the voices of three important members to make decisions that the rest seem to follow. Alright, I said as I stepped out of the mall. I didnt have a technical waiting for me, unfortunately, and being that it was stupid o''clock in the morning, there werent any buses to take. Hey, wheres my bike? Back in New Montreal. Right... can it drive itself over to here? I asked. Certainly. Though it will take at least half an hour to arrive. Which meant that there was no point in splurging on a new ride. Id just have to walk, like some sort of peasant. I laughed at myself, then took off with a bit of a strut. Myalis hadnt filled me in entirely yet, but she did place a waypoint on the map stuck to the corner of my augs, so she must have known where Id be heading in any case. As I was saying. The group is led by three members, though they were not elected to any position of leadership. They seem to control the others by dint of being the richest and-slash-or because they are in positions of relative power outside of the community. Who are these guys? I asked. Bunch of old white men? Thats an accurate description of one of them. Stanley F. Johnson is the owner of a chain of mid-level housing accommodations across this city. You visited, and destroyed one, about ten hours ago. He has ties to several smaller real estate companies, and runs a few businesses on the side, mostly selling furniture, HVAC services, and security. Ah, alright, I said. And the other two? Meredith Jones. She owns the states largest insurance company. Her portfolio is also diversified, but it mostly lies in intangible assets. And finally, Will P. Brown. He inherited his familys assets, making him the fifth richest person in Burlington. He owns shares in nearly every large industrial complex in the state and many beyond. I got to the hotel, then slipped into an alley next to it and went invisible. It was almost unfair how much of an advantage that was. Then I realized that theyd installed these little laser sensors across the lobby. I wasnt sure if my suits invisibility would foil that. So I went around to the back of the hotel and through a service door that Myalis conveniently unlocked for me. One of the guards was around, and he heard the door opening, but I squeezed myself against a wall and left the door ajar. He poked his head out, then pulled it back closed and made sure it was locked. And then he reported it over their internal comms. Smart guy. I followed him out of the room, moving slowly so that I wouldnt make any more noise than I had to. I considered riding the elevator up, but that would have made it too easy to spot me. Then I did it anyway because there was no way I was walking up forty flights of stairs. But I did it smartly. I climbed up two flights, avoiding motion sensors and a rather shitty laser grid as I went, then rode the elevator up from the third floor to the floor just below where the River Heights group was waiting. I walked up from there. They had a guy sitting next to the door out of the staircase one floor up, but his head was knocking back and forth as he fought off sleep, so I just squeezed on past him without making a sound. The penthouse floor was nice and swanky. Not as cool as the hotel wed stayed at in New Montreal though. There was some nice carpeting and the walls were all done up in this faux-roman style, with marble all over and big arches over each doorway. A pair of guards were walking a patrol across the main corridor, but they seemed both tired and bored out of their minds. I paused next to one to check out their gear. A small, compact gun, and a handgun on their leg, chest armour with a rig for ammo, and a visored helmet with all the bells and whistles. Basically, the kind of shit Id expect to see on a top-quality PMC. No markings or anything though. We could probably use these guys over on the front line instead of wasting their time guarding some VIPs. What were the chances that someone would actually come all the way up here to mess these folk up anyway? I shook my head and continued on my way to mess these folk up. Myalis kindly provided me with an aerosolized sleeping agent in grenade form. Fortunately, it wasnt noisy. I waited for the guards to be out of sight of any of the cameras mounted to the ceiling, then underhanded the grenade between them. They were quick to act. The moment they spotted the grenade one jumped back and away and the other spun around aiming down the corridor from where Id tossed it. Then they both just flopped to the ground bonelessly. Anyone spot that? I asked. I have the cameras running on a loop. Though if you could be so kind as to move his foot back? I walked over and did just that. Alright, that worked pretty well. Lets see if the locals can handle the same treatment. *** Chapter Fifty-Three - Intimidation Chapter Fifty-Three - Intimidation Chapter Fifty-Three - Intimidation Intimidating people is hard. Its not just about having the biggest guns or the biggest kill-count around, its more than that. You need to look scary, talk the right way, walk the right way. Its not as easy as people think, especially if you have... certain disadvantages. --Deus Ex, 2049 *** Meredith Jones had the penthouse rooms with the biggest living room space, so I decided to hold our impromptu meeting in her apartments. First, though, I had to grab the other two guests of honour. Stanley had the room next to Merediths, so after letting Myalis poke at the card-reader next to the door, I slipped into his suite and tossed a sleeping gas grenade into the bedroom. Stanley was sleeping all on his lonesome in a surprisingly non-fancy set of pyjamas. The gas silently filled the room, and his snoring continued unbothered. Fuck, I said as I stood next to his bed. I felt a little skeevy now that Id made it this far. Sneaking past the guards and all felt fine, but standing over a sleeping guy in the dark felt... a bit weird. Plus now I had to carry him, and Stanley--while he wasnt fat--still had a bit of a gut and he was a full-grown man. I tried to princess carry him, but that didnt work. He was too floppy and I almost smacked myself in the face when his foot kicked up as I tried to grab him under his knees. Myalis didnt help, and instead played a laugh-track in the background as I tried to pick the man up. I eventually settled on a firemans carry, pulling Stanleys arms up and then shoving my shoulder against his middle before standing up. Thank fuck for power armour, otherwise I wouldnt have been able to carry him anywhere. Stanley might wake up with a few bruises from the way I carried him around. At least I only banged his shins against the doorframe, not his head. I brought him over to Merediths living room and dropped him on the couch. Then I realized that bringing people in here might wake her up, so I cracked the door to her room open and rolled another sleep grenade in, just in case. Next was Will. His room was way down on the far end of the corridor, and I wasnt looking forward to having to drag him all the way across. On reaching his door, I could make out sounds on the other side. People talking. Two women, in fact. I crouched by the door and after Myalis unlocked it for me, opened it just enough to slip a grenade in. Whats that? One girl asked. Uh, I said. Go back to sleep. The bot stared. Are you kidnapping Master Brown? it asked. No? I tried. Its... Samurai business. Dont, uh, interfere. The bot blinked, then laid itself back down, and I found myself entirely uncertain of what to do next. Myalis hadnt stopped with the laugh track. Okay, enough of that, I grumped at her as I picked up Wills ankles again and continued to drag him out of the room. The poor fuck was going to have rug burn all along his back, but it was his own fault for sleeping in the nude and having disgusting hairy legs. Wills back squeaked unpleasantly across the marble floor in the corridor, then I dragged him into Merediths room. She had a nice couch where Stanley was snoring, so I dragged Will up and sat him there next to his buddy. Then it was time to fetch Meredith. She was sleeping next to a man that I wasnt familiar with, but judging by the bands on their fingers they were either married or they were both cheating. Meredith was, fortunately, a rather small, thin woman, so I was able to pick her up and carry her out of the room without too much trouble. Okay, I said as I rubbed my hands together. That had been more work than I expected. Now... Well, now was the intimidation part of this whole routine, and I was honestly not sure where to start. Alright, first, Myalis, can you lock them out of their augs? Dont need them calling on the guards. Consider it done. Right... so, talking points? Uh... Id like it if they stopped fucking around. Im here to remind them that if they do, theyll find out. I could probably just empty all of their accounts, but then why did I go through all the trouble of getting them into this room if that was the case? I started to think, then decided it was too early for thinking and just ordered up the antidote to the knock-out grenade, which was fortunately also aerosolized. Then I started to pace with only an end table between me and the three. At the last moment, I pulled out Void Terminus, my very large, very cool-looking sword, and planted the tip into the floor while I stood in front of the Trio. Stanley was the first to come to, blinking sheepishly and then looking around. Will groaned next, then reached towards his back with a muttered curse. What happened? he asked. Good morning, I said, and all three of them snapped their attention to me. I grinned, even if they couldnt see it. Do you want me to turn on the lights? Ah, Id forgotten that it was dark. Lets turn up the lights a bit, I suggested. All three of them flinched as the lights in the living room came on and probably ruined their night vision. So, Ive got some criticism about how the three of you have been acting, and I really wanted you to hear it, I said. So here we are! Lets have a nice chat, huh? *** Chapter Fifty-Four - All That Wealth is Good For Chapter Fifty-Four - All That Wealth is Good For Chapter Fifty-Four - All That Wealth is Good For The Wealth of Nations was an important book that laid out the foundations for the capitalist system. Its economic principles, though simple and still somewhat theoretical, nevertheless enlightened many early economists and thinkers, leading them to the creation of a system we are all well-familiar with. It suggested that the labour of the people was the true wealth of a nation. The Wealth of Corporations is a similar novel, written by a hyper-networked economic AI in 2032, it lays out the foundations for a post-capitalist society where the labour of the masses is no longer necessary thanks to automation, but their continued survival is still necessary to ensure human prosperity. It suggests that the value of a corporation isnt its ability to create, nor its capital worth, but rather its intellectual properties and the size of its databases. --Thesis on the Wealth of Corporations, 2034 *** Stanley, Meredith and Will stared at me for a while, and it was pretty clear that all three of them were working through some shit, mentally-speaking, as they got to terms with the situation. Did you hear that last bit, or should I repeat myself? I asked. Meredith shook her head. I heard, she said. Youre... Stray Cat? I am! I said. Id be lying if I didnt admit to being at least a little happy to be recognized. It was going to save me a lot of time spent explaining things to these three fine specimens. You know what me being here means, right? I asked. Did you take me out of my room? Will asked. Dont ask stupid questions, I said. I didnt want to have to explain to him how he got here. My back hurts, what did you do? he asked. I glared at him. What did I literally just say? Fortunately, Meredith and Stanley had their heads on straight. Stanley jabbed Will with an elbow. Shut up, Will, listen to the samurai when shes threatening you. Uh... this is a threat, right? Well, I wasnt going to be so overt about it, I said. I was more planning to like, imply that there was a threat. Like, hey, look, I can sneak past all of your guards and grab you while youre sleeping no matter where you are or how safe youre feeling. That kind of thing. I figured I didnt need to come out and tell you that this is a threat. We get it, Meredith said. She squirmed on her sofa, sitting up straighter and tugging her nightgown on straight. Is there anything in particular that, ah, started all of this? I stabbed Void Terminus into Merediths coffee table and the tip of the sword rammed right through the wood to lodge there. All three of them jumped. Could you at least have the common decency to be a little bit scared? I asked. Im a little scared, Will said, not sounding scared at all. Fuck you, Will, I said. My sword, hearing its activation phrase, snapped to life, a black slice of space appearing along its edge, the negative pressure sucking at the air in the room. It wasnt a massively powerful suction, but it was enough to stir the air and it created that wonderfully distinct hissing noise, like a million really pissed off snakes going off all at once. I pointed the end towards Will and he scrambled back as far as he could go while staying on the couch. Okay, okay, Im scared, he said. Damn right, I said. Now, all three of you... stop fucking with the running of this city. If youre not going to make things better the least you can do is stop making things worse. Were trying to keep everyone alive here, for fucks sake. I deactivated the sword, then brought it around and slid it into its sheath. Then I ordered up another wake up grenade and placed it atop the slim hole Id punched through the coffee table so it wouldnt wobble away. Use this on those two guards out there. Itll wake them up. And remember, Ive warned you once already. I dont give out two warnings. Next time Im just taking all of your money and assets and whatever and the lot of you can learn what its like being poor. Its the one experience you cant pay for. My sword finished travelling to the end of its sheath with a satisfying click and I stood tall, nodded to the three, then made a graceful exit before any of them could say anything, or before I could shove my own foot in my mouth and ruin the whole look. That was well done. I was half expecting you to just kill them. Really? I asked once I was out of the suite. Thats a bit violent. Not that Im not violent or anything. Im cool with murder, obviously, but it feels... I dont know. They werent fighting back. Just kind of slumped there, and it doesnt feel like theyre a threat. Theyre just idiots that happen to be rich. Thats an interesting way of looking at it. You could reappropriate their wealth and use it yourself. What in the fuck would I do with that? I asked. Like sure, being rich sounds awesome, but Ive never had more than four-figures worth of credits in my entire life. I dont know how to handle that kind of cash. I could give it to someone who does, but then what if they fuck up? No, I dont want that kind of responsibility. Just having enough to keep me and mine happys good enough for me. Unless you want the credits yourself? I dont. And Im glad you dont feel the need to chase wealth either. Youre surprisingly mature at times, Catherine. I rolled my eyes and pretended not to feel any sort of flushing. Of course, the bitch living in my head could probably like, measure my dopamine levels or whatever. Weve got more problems to deal with, right? Theres that protest thats gearing up. The social media feeds of a few of the leaders and instigators suggest that rumours of food shortages have begun to spread. The antithesis havent stopped testing the defences yet either. Ah, fan-fucking-tastic, I said. At least I didnt have to worry too much about the militia falling apart just yet. *** Chapter Fifty-Five - Hunger of the Masses Chapter Fifty-Five - Hunger of the Masses Chapter Fifty-Five - Hunger of the Masses With VKO you can set up your own restaurant in as few as twenty clicks and for less than a hundred thousand credits. Just pick the menu, upload your logo, name your new restaurant, and bam! Your own tailor-made virtual dining experience is up and running! Compatible with all of your favourite online dining apps! --VKO Virtual Kitchen Online ad, 2026 *** So, what are they complaining about, exactly? I asked. It was a semi-rhetorical question. I was on my way down and out of the hotel--using the elevator, because why would I sneak out--while eying up the protestors media feed. Would-be-protestors. They were still huddled up in their homes, for the most part. A few had gone out to meet each other, it seemed, and the urge to do something was clearly spreading as people egged each other on, but for the moment things had yet to start popping off. A quick scroll showed a lot of people complaining, and a lot of people encouraging each other to get out there and do more than just complain online. It felt a little like I was watching the pressure building in a can that was about to burst. It needed a release, and I was worried that the release would cause some serious trouble. Most of all for me. I didnt mind people wanting to protest and hell, they were right, shit wasnt fine. The problem was that while their protests would certainly kick things into high gear when it came to fixing some issues, it would also cause a number of new, fresh issues as well. The complaints seem to be divided along three main points of contention. Four, really. The first is the quarantine that has been implemented across the city. Theres a quarantine? I asked as I got out of the elevator. A few of the guards looked at me suspiciously, but if I was leaving, then I wasnt going to be their problem for long. Its not in full effect. But there are Stay-At-Home measures in place at the moment. People travelling out of their homes will receive warnings. There are forms that can be filled to justify the leaving, and these can be filed in advance, but the restrictions are chafing. I frowned, then went searching for some of those forms myself. I could see why people were annoyed a moment later. The form was top of the line bureaucratic bullshit. The first half asked for manual entry of information that my augs should have provided already, then I had to give a reason why I wanted to leave, where I would go, and when Id be back. Failure to disclose the right information or come home late, or not go where I was supposed to, would result in a fine. Or it would, for a normal person, I wasnt going to bother with this. Okay, that needs streamlining. Who implemented this? The militia and the city government. Its meant to reduce the number of people on the streets and in dangerous areas. Its also meant to help keep track of citizens. Its wildly inefficient, and there are several ways around it. The fines being credit-based also mean that anyone with sufficient resources can merely ignore them. But, they have proven to be successful in reducing the number of bodies on the streets and outside of their own designated housing areas. I nodded along as I left the building. I wasnt sure where to go from there, but I started towards the centre of the city. I wanted a walk to think, in any case. A little under half a million. What the fuck, that doesnt make any sense, I said, my other trains of thought entirely derailed for a moment. Those are registered restaurants. Most of them are ghost restaurants. Several fronts all situated within the same industrial kitchen serving the same food across multiple brands. Ah, capitalist fuckery, I said. That made more sense. How many cooks, then? I asked. A few thousand are registered. Do you want me to send a call out for them? Do it. Tell them to show up at the Mall at... nine-thirty. Sign it with my name. Tell them that well be... appropriating a few of those restaurants to start serving people throughout the city. Fuck, were going to need an app or something. That seems amusing. Ill take care of it. Perhaps we can start competing brands between ourselves and the citys other Vanguard? Chez Stray Cats? Youre a riot, I deadpanned. You mentioned a fourth problem? Indeed. Theres a growing envy of the Kittens. You mean the people Lucys working with? I asked. Yes, since the positions are limited and theyre seen using Vanguard technology and assisting on the front lines, the active members of the Kittens have begun to brag. Naturally, this has created a slight schism between them and those who cannot or will not join. Thats the stupidest shit, I said. A number of people within the ranks of the organisers of this protest agree. Its the most hotly debated point of contention among them. I dont think anything will come of it, not as long as new opportunities to join the Kittens group arise. I took a moment to wonder at the incredible stupidity of humanity. Unfortunately, a moment was all I could spare. Is Intel-chan awake yet? I asked Their alarm went off six minutes ago. They are still doing their morning ablutions. A bit too much information. Tell them to call me as soon as theyre free, I said. Were gonna put them in charge of the logistics for the food thing. Do you think the protestors will calm down? Its possible. But I doubt it. Youve mitigated several of the reasons they have to protest, or will, in any case, but the anger has risen already. It will take more than that to calm them down. Any advice, then? I asked, because I didnt know what to do about it. *** Chapter Fifty-Six - A Great Idea Chapter Fifty-Six - A Great Idea Chapter Fifty-Six - A Great Idea There''s charity, and then theres Samurai charity. And the latter''s always interesting to see at work. You can never tell if theyre doing it out of empathy for others, or if theyre just tired of society being trash and decided to fix things on their own. It sometimes even works out! -- Simon Battleax Critical, head of e-magazine The Critical Skeptic, 69th issue January 2045 *** This is a stupid fucking idea, I said. Lucy grinned, then reached up and pinched my cheek. Itll be fine, she said. Well handle most of it. You go out there and talk to your cooks, and Ill get everything ready and set up, yeah? I wanted to grumble and complain more, but time was wasting. It was approaching ten in the morning, and I didnt want to put things off any more than I needed to, so I left the Kittens HQ and headed to the escalators leading to the malls ground floor. The protests were being stalled out at the moment. The truth was--as far as I could tell--that people who wanted to protest needed a serious push to get moving, and my actions so far had deflated some of the reasons why they were going to make a mess of things. That meant that for things to take off, theyd need an even bigger push, and I was doing what I could to basically chop their legs out from under them by placating the masses. If it worked, then the few hours Id spent on it would be worth it. The ground floor of the mall had a crowd gathering on it, some eighty or so people, and squeezed into one side by a few kitten volunteers. Not the sort in the suits with the cool guns, but normal volunteers in normal clothes. The only thing marking them as kittens were the cat-ears they wore on their heads and their Augs IFF pinging them as such. Id spent a chunk of points (only a couple thousand, but it still stung) and bought two organic reprocessing machines. They were down here too, being guarded by both the kittens and some militia folk. Right now, they were constantly generating the same crap. Some sort of bread, a sort of faux-meat patty, and some sort of vegetable... disk thing. Basically, we were making burgers. I walked into one of the bigger restaurants in the malls kitchen, chosen because it had some space. It didnt have space for seventy-plus nosey cooks, but there was nothing but a half wall separating the kitchen from the outside, so they could still see well enough, even if there was some elbowing to be near the front. With an eye roll, I turned on the camera in my augmented eye and then sent everyone in the vicinity the code to be able to piggyback with their own augs. Simple enough thing to do, but extremely stupid. It was pissing all over every cybersecurity standard ever to let people into your augs like that, but Id be impressed if they got anything past Myalis. Now that they could all see, I focused on the stuff wed made already. There were a few cardboard boxes full of ingredients. Lucy had some younger volunteers loading up the fabricators already. This is bread, I said as I pulled out a round, flat bun and placed it on a stainless steel counter. This is some sort of fake-meat patty. And this is a veggie patty. I slapped the other two onto the table. Not exactly fine dining, Cook said. He was near the front and didnt look impressed. I shrugged. Its food. Hell, its even somewhat healthy, even if it tastes like cardboard. Just... add some fucking ketchup. Hell... lets sell the condiments while making the burgers free. Well use the money to pay you guys. Man, this business shit was easy. How many of these Stray Cat Burgers do you think youll be selling? Cook asked. However many people there are in Burlington, times three meals a day, uh, a lot? I said. Im working on something else to help calm the needy down, and we do have proper food coming in. This is a stopgap, to make it so that no one ends up starving while we set things up. I dont want hungry kids on the streets. No point in beating back the aliens while people die behind the front lines because they cant get bread. That seemed to make sense to everyone involved. The cooks didnt seem overly happy that they werent making anything special, but hey, they had work while most people had nothing to do but sit on their thumbs. Jessica will be down in a minute or two to give everyone their assignments, I said. If youre interested, stick around. And, uh, tell Jessica what you want engraved on your spatulas. Youre doing the city a service, or something. I nodded, then exited out the back without another word, because I didnt owe anyone any amount of small talk. Now, for the second part. I was dreading it already. *** Interlude - Chef Lucy Interlude - Chef Lucy Interlude - Chef Lucy Lucy looked up and met her own eyes. It was always strange to look at yourself through a camera while also looking through that camera with your augs. Slightly disorientating, though without any real dizziness or nausea. She blinked, then looked at the other camera. Yeah, they were all in focus. Good. The table was set. There was a hotplate, plugged in and ready to warm up. They had all the pots and pans they needed. Water was in a jug nearby, the other things were just to the side. The main camera saw it all too. Good good. She turned and took in the background. It wasnt much, just a plain window that overlooked one of the main roads of Burlington. Theyd put up curtains on the sides to mask it up a little. The main cameras angle would let people see the road and, more importantly, it would let someone enterprising enough to head outside prove that it was an actual livestream. Which it wasn''t. The window was placed in front of a high-definition screen filming another, actual window elsewhere. Lucy didnt need someone smart firing a rocket at their back while they did this. Cat was the best, but she was not even close to paranoid enough. Myalis: Catherine is on her way up. Lucy: Tks!Chee?ck out latest novels at novelhall.com She grinned. Almost time to start. There were a few ways she could do this, but really, she wanted it to be a bit... a bit poorly done? There was just something about jank that pissed off the corporate types and made everything a little more genuine. Across from her table were a few of the volunteer kittens that had some experience with this kind of stuff. She gave them a thumbs up, and then a quick count-down. In one of her augs side-reels, she saw herself as the internet could now see her. A single dark skinned girl in a well-lit room in front of a bunch of cooking things, smiling at the camera and wearing some rather interesting cat-ear props on her head. The caption across the seven different streaming platforms she was sending this to was all the same. Stray Cats Cooking Show! Feat. Lucy! Her grin widened. Hello, everyone, she said. She currently has a hundred and seven viewers. Myalis helpfully showed her the number of actual, human viewers below that. It was more like just seven, but she could live with that number too. It would grow. This shows mostly for the fine people of Burlington, where Stray Cat, Gomorrah, and your three local samurai are hard at work keeping people safe. Today were adding to that by making sure youre fed and safe too! She had a live chat. It was almost immediately bombarded with ads and fake messages. And then Myalis struck, and Lucy could almost imagine some distant servers crashing and burning. It was like using a tank on a single ant, having an AI like Myalis on her side. In a blink, the chat was cleared of any interference. There was a large computer monitor turned on its side next to the camera with the chats feed on it, not that she needed to look with her augs, but it helped the viewers if she looked at something before answering them. Made it more... real. At least, that was her experience from watching this kind of stream before. Every citizen of Burlington, heck, anyone within the Downtown region can order up a meal and have it delivered to your door for free. All you need to do is cook it up! So, to make that part easier, we decided to make this livestream to show you how! Oh, shed just hit three figure human viewers, nice! Rika: Whats this? Abbatoth68: Wheres that? MarchallGod: The titles a lie BestFrenVenom: We? Alan Martin: She cute tho DaShoe: Show feet! Lucy was looking forward to it. So, Chef Stray Cat, Lucy said. As I was telling our viewers, today well be cooking up something easy to cook. We only have a few minutes with our brave samurai, everyone, so lets not waste her time, hmm? Cat, still flushing, cleared her throat, then looked from one camera to the other. It was cute to see her so flustered. Yeah, right. So, what are we cooking? she asked. She was quick to roll with the punches. Mac and cheese, Lucy said. Really? Were teaching people how to make that? Arent the instructions on the box? Cat asked. They are, Lucy said. But you know how people are. Cat rolled her eyes, something she was doing a lot now that she had two. Cat wasnt commenting on it a lot, but it was clear that she was silently appreciative of having two of those again. Yeah, fine. So where do we start? With the instructions, Lucy said. She smiled. Theyre on the box. Cat bumped into her with her hip, and Lucy laughed as she stumbled closer to the ingredients. Right, Ill turn on this thing... like that. Are these pots clean? No, I thought wed cook with dirty pots today, Lucy said. Ah, yeah, get that real bachelor-chow taste going, rat droppings and all, Cat agreed as she picked up an obviously clean pan and spun it around before putting it on the hot plate. Lucy handed Cat the water, which was in a large gallon jug. Every food order comes with a gallon of purified water, two boxes of noodles and a small container of milk, Lucy said to the nearest camera. The first step is setting your water to boil. Kirania3: Oh no, theyre sassy Jonah94: How water boil? Arkimedes: Why water boil? Racheet: Theyre cute Majaguru: Sassy and sexy tho Inle68: lmao That ones hard to fuck up, Cat said. Yeah, imagine someone forgetting that there was water in the pan and then leaving it to boil overnight? Lucy said. Cat froze, then she turned a frown towards Lucy. Lucy, that was you. Lucy laughed. But you got in trouble for it. Only because that bitch didnt believe me! Cat said. It was an argument theyd threaded a number of times. They each knew their part, what to say, which memories to bring up, and why, even if it was all said before, it still made them warm. It was comfortable complaining about an easier time, when an overworked orphanage worker and a bit of boiled-off water was their biggest worry. They made mac and cheese, and it wasnt perfect. Lucy didnt measure the milk, and ended up not putting enough in. Cat added the macaroni before the water was boiling because she was too impatient to wait that long, and Cat complained at length about how only using one packet of cheese powder was for scrubs while Lucy tried to remind her of the times where theyd ended up eating mac-and-no-cheese because of that very habit. It was nice, and in the end they got to enjoy a few bites of subpar food while a seven-figure audience watched and they both still pretended that it was just the two of them. *** Chapter Fifty-Seven - The Okay Before the Oof Chapter Fifty-Seven - The Okay Before the Oof Chapter Fifty-Seven - The Okay Before the OofWhen samurai work together, itll either lead to greater success, or a lot more chaos. The personalities of various samurai tend to be quite different, and they also tend to share some commonalities. Those commonalities often include a distrust of others and of authority, and that makes it complicated for them to work together if theres a direct and clear hierarchy in place. Not that it hasnt happened and wont happen again. Were just stubborn sometimes.Chee?ck out latest novels at novelhall.com --Laserjack, on samurai-samurai relations, 2054 *** Things were going... alright. I was a little tired after running around all over the place putting out fires, but it seemed that, at least for now, the city would hold up. And just as I was thinking that, I got a call from Gomorrah. Hey, I said as I answered. I was still at the mall, having just finished up a... I supposed it was a presentation, with Lucy. I didnt have concrete plans on where to go next. Hello, Gomorrah said. Im on the lake-side of the city, by the walls. Things are getting a little... uncomfortable over here. I think we could use your help. I nodded. Sure, Im on my way. Just send me your coords and Ill be there in ten, faster if you think its an emergency. We can afford to wait ten minutes, Gomorrah said. Things arent that dire yet. But yes, Id appreciate having you here. I nodded, cut the call, then sent a text to Jessica. The sexbot had become Lucys secretary of sorts. At least as an android she was quick to reply to texts and such, much faster than a person, even if she lacked some social graces sometimes. She replied instantly to my request and said that a car would be waiting for me outside. Pretty handy, that. I checked my gear as I headed out. I had my armour on, and it was reading all green on my HUD. Its batteries were down to 89% but I figured that was a non-issue for now. My railguns were down a few rounds, so I got Myalis to top them up, just in case. Then I checked on my laser pointer. It was currently full of... flechette rounds. Yeah, that would work for now. I had a couple of grenades on my belt. Resonators, garrots, one of those black hole bombs for a tight situation. My handgun was strapped to my thigh and full of ammo, and I had my coat on top of everything. I checked that my helmet was on correctly as I walked out of the mall, then found the car that was going to bring me out to the front. It was one of those econocars, a tiny little electric thing that ran off of a lawnmower engine and that had a top speed that was in the double digits. The inside had room for two if they were willing to get comfy with each other. I wanted to complain, but then that would waste time, and then Id need to find another way over and... Hey, didnt I order my bike down to here? I asked. Some time ago, yes. I used the time we were spending on the introductions to check out the overall situation. The walls had been tested all along their length through the night and early morning. Just probing attacks from the aliens. Nothing too hard to push back. That started to change over the last half hour or so. The aliens had started to concentrate their pushes along two spots. Okay, I said. Looks like theyre getting serious. More serious, yes, Gomorrah said. Im getting a lot more activity from the lake too. The temperature rose three degrees overnight. Which isnt normal in the least, and its only been rising faster since. Theres some activity on the shore. Smaller models coming out of the water and running towards the city, but I think most of the movement is underground right now. Fuck, I said with feeling. What about the other hives? Nothing from them, Gomorrah said. Atyacus gives us a seventy-percent chance of having cleared them with our nanomachine attacks and that last big fire. We havent seen anything from them, so Im going to assume we dont need to dedicate too much to worrying about them. I nodded along. That was good. So our worry was now entirely about the underlake hive, which was basically sending more and more aliens our way. Do you have a plan already, or should we just dry the lake up and boil the fuckers? I asked. Thats plan B, Gomorrah said. Its... somewhat extreme. I got some climate prediction software after what we did in New Montreal. If we burn off the entire lakes water supply, itll... be pretty bad for the environment. God, I cant imagine, Sprout said. Boiling the entire lake would just destroy any bit of its ecosystem left intact. There would be no saving it once the antithesis are removed. Okay, so thats plan B, fine, I said. Whats plan A? I noticed that a lot of people around us were starting to move differently, and the frequent retort of gunfire from around the wall picked up. It sounded like the aliens were testing us again. Plan A is to hold out until an expert arrives, Gomorrah said. But that doesnt mean that we cant do something at the same time. I think we should create a firewall. Like on a computer? I asked. Did you pick the term because it has fire in it? I was being a little more literal, Gomorrah said. I have some explosives that can spray liquid fire around an area for an extended period of time. I want to create a wall between the antithesis and the city. Thats a stalling action, I said. The aliens on the other side would just have more time to group up and grow stronger. Theres more, Sprout said. I have some new seeds I want to spread. Theyll need some time to grow, but once they do, they can turn the lost part of the city into a deathtrap for the antithesis. Alright, I said. Sounds easy enough. Gom, you need help with those bombs? Ive got a few that might help with that wall of yours. *** Chapter Fifty-Eight - Final Hours Chapter Fifty-Eight - Final Hours Chapter Fifty-Eight - Final Hours For long-ranged travel, the aircraft is still the best option, but as time progresses and hovercraft become more common, we are seeing a harsh decrease in commercial flights, especially more localised ones. A clever traveller can hop from city to city using different hovercar services for relatively cheap, and since the distance covered by a hovercar is significantly greater than that covered by a traditional car, were starting to see the entire airline economy crumpling. Which is why we want to push for more luxury-based aeroplane accommodations. Lets jack up the price and make airline travel something for the rich and influential and those who wish they were both. --Beta Airlines internal memo, 2031 *** Gomorrah volunteered the Fury to deliver her explosive payload, and I was totally okay with the idea that wed be dropping stuff onto the aliens from the relative safety of the air. But that would only cover a little bit, and I didnt want Gomorrah to be alone up there. Alright, I said while we were all still in the planning... shed. Gomorrah, you get the Fury up in the air. Ill see if the militia has any hover cars. I can probably give them something to drop bombs with, and we can load them up with enough munitions to cover everything. I know you can just go up and keep dropping things, but Im worried that youll just be one vehicle alone in the air. Gomorrah shrugged. Its a fair worry. Ill be closer to the water, and there might be larger antithesis that can fly in the lake. They might come out if they see the Fury dropping bombs along the shore. Right, exactly, I said. I wish we had more AA guns down here too. Franny will be here in twenty minutes with another load of turrets from your place, Gomorrah said. Really? Thats not bad, I said. She brought some in last night as well. I got the militia to install them across the city. Theyre not exactly strong, you know? Yeah, but they can take out the weaker aliens without too much of a fuss, and they dont need a person controlling them to work, I argued. More turrets would be nice, in any case. We could get them up on all of the buildings on this side of downtown. I wasnt sure if their range was enough to really help during bombing runs or anything, but theyd certainly help if a flying car returned with some aliens on its ass. Ill chat with Intel-chan, get things organised. Sprout, do you need to be there to spread your, uh, seeds?Chee?ck out latest novels at novelhall.com Thatd be ideal, he said. But I think anyone could manage if you train them just a little. Cool. Do you want to go out with Arm-a-Geddon here? Both of you working together should be able to stay alive. I think we can supply some technicals, Intel-chan said. We have a number of cars free right now. Good. Now, on the subject of cars. Does the militia have any sort of armoured flying vehicle? Intel-chans avatar bobbed its head. Yup! We have three pursuit VTOLs, and five heavy lift vans for troop transportation. We also have a number of police cruisers on loan. They have turreted weapons, but theyre not designed to kill organics. That might do. Bring them over here. Were going to turn them into bombers, I said. Intel-chan clapped. Oh, nice. Youre going to get a ton of volunteers for that. Yeah, that tracked. Giving a bunch of people access to heavy-ordnance and telling them to drop it onto the heads of the pesky aliens below was always going to be popular. Just get the cars over here, Ill figure out a way to set them up to drop bombs. And remind our new bomber pilots that this shits dangerous, we dont have good AA. Noted, Intel-chan said. Still gonna get lots of volunteers. Expect the cars within the hour. Make it faster than that, were starting the bombing runs at two PM. Oh, thats soon, Ill have everyone hurry up, then, they said. When do you need the gardeners? Jennifer asked. I shook my head. Ideally they should be here already, but we cant have that. So just get them over as quickly as possible. There were some scaffolds set up on the inner side of the wall, with ladders slanted at an angle to act as OSHA-violating steps so that people could carry stuff to the top of the barricade. A few heavier-looking machine guns were set up there already, rattling away as they sprayed at what I hoped was a horde of aliens. I ran up the ladder, tail swaying automatically to keep me balanced, then I climbed up another level to see over the top of the barricade. There were heaps of alien bodies strewn across an otherwise empty street, with more aliens charging down from around the corner. There were lots of them, but it was far from one of those endless tides like Id seen in New Montreal before. This was more of an endless trickle of lower-tiered models. It was more than what theyd been seeing the day before, however, and that was concerning all on its own. We had three guns firing nearly non-stop up here, with pauses only happening when they needed to reload or change belts. Eventually wed run out of ammo. Maybe before the aliens ran out of bodies. I wasnt liking the math here. I flung a couple of grenades ahead. Just a few plain old resonators, to help melt the bodies that were piling up before they could turn into makeshift barricades. I made a note to leave some better nades behind too, in case bigger, meaner aliens started to show up. Even some in the early double-digit range could really mess things up. Meh, wed be fine. We just had to hold out for a little while longer. I was feeling pretty good about our odds. *** Chapter Fifty-Nine - Enjoying the View Chapter Fifty-Nine - Enjoying the View Chapter Fifty-Nine - Enjoying the View Why? Because this piece of shit runs off the same trash software some guy made in his mothers basement in the fucking eighties! Thats why! --About modern printers, 2057 *** Its going to have to be a custom job for each one. I frowned, but it made sense. I had three cars sitting before me and five armoured vans. The cars were all sharp angles and boxy frames. They looked like they could move fast and punch through reinforced walls with ease. The kind of overly manly design language that got the little knobs of cops around the world all hard. Having the Fury parked nearby kinda ripped the wind out of their sails, however. These things were at best armed with piddly little turreted autocannons designed to punch cars out of the air. They might have been police pursuit vehicles, but they werent rated to do much against the antithesis. The five vans parked behind them were a bit better. I noticed three distinct models there, but they all followed more or less the same design language. Rounded fronts as a slight concession to aerodynamics and a big bulky box of a body with side-opened doors. Three of them had side-mounted turrets with the guns missing. A few techs were installing them in a hurry, though. Yeah, those would do. Alright, I said. There was a gathering of pilots and volunteers from the militia nearby. Were going to arm up the vans with something to drop bombs. Youre going to need someone inside to reload the bomb dropping thing, but it should be able to drop them on the right spot. I was half talking to these guys and half to Myalis. I didnt want to have to trust some bozo with dropping bombs. Youd have to be a special kind of stupid to give someone with no training access to exotic explosives. Clearing my throat, I gestured to the three pursuit vehicles. We can add a cheap laser turret onto these. Itll make them a bit better in the air. That autocannon looks like its enough to take out some of the earlier double-digit aliens without too much trouble. Franny was arriving soon, and it wouldnt be too hard to divert three of those turrets over. Plus it would save me a few points. I walked over to each van in turn and scanned their interiors with my augs to give Myalis a good idea of the amount of space we were dealing with. Then I ordered up the bomb-dropping mechanism for each. They were a hundred and twenty points each, which... I wasnt sure if that was a ripoff or not. Each was relatively large, able to fit into the door and block it completely, with a sort of deployable tube thing on the side to actually drop the bombs from. Franny shrugged. Im not averse to a little hard work. Next batch of turrets should be ready in about twelve hours though. We got the kittens working on loading up the machine. Rac sourced a bunch of supplies too. There was a bit of warm pride in my chest at hearing that. My kittens were doing good work. Not that they were really mine, but whatever. Id take credit for basically raising them as long as they were doing good. The moment they fucked up, Id pretend I had nothing to do with it, of course. Hey, can you set aside three turrets for the interceptors? Were going to be using them to keep the bombers safe, I said. Ah, speaking of which. Gom, as much as Id love to see your bumbling attempts at flirting, do you think you can put it off for a little bit? We need to discuss bombs. Gomorrahs shoulders moved in a way that suggested she was sighing. Was it because she was sad that she wouldnt get to flirt, or was it something else? Yeah, thats fine, she said. Franny, you probably should go see Lucy. I think she could use the help. Cat here keeps giving her more work. Hey, I complained. Wait, was that true? Was I overworking Lucy? Fuck, I wasnt even paying her, was I? How much was a person like Lucy worth? Organising an impromptu army, putting down dissidents, arranging to feed an entire city, and running a PR campaign at the same time... Double fuck, I wasnt making enough money to afford her at all, was I? So, I was thinking of keeping it simple. Longer lasting firebombs. Atyacus has a few chemicals that will burn for days at a time. Theyre not as powerful as some liquids I have, but the duration is important here. I think I can get Myalis to give me resonators thatll keep going for a long time and thatll be tough enough to endure the drop, I said. I guess were going to mostly aim for duration, then? The problem is the spread, in that case. Even if our bombs overlap where they land, theyll only cover a relatively small area. Itll take thousands of them to create a complete barrier, Gomorrah said. Tricky, I said. Mostly, I was still thinking of how to pay Lucy back. Would foot rubs count? *** Chapter Sixty - Callsigns Chapter Sixty - Callsigns Chapter Sixty - Callsigns We need a new minority to pin things on. Its becoming increasingly difficult to blame trans people or the gay. I cant think of any new group to marginalise though. We have a few options, but none of them fit all of our criteria: 1- We need them to be relatively poor 2- We cant have that group be associated with us politically already 3- They need a distinct culture 4- They cant be a group thats well integrated with our own community 5- The less media representation they have, the better. Well take care of first impressions. 6- If they have historical reasons for being disliked, then that would be a bonus. Im thinking we can have the people in the south turn against the French? Theres a small but strong French community around New Orleans that we could pin things on. But then the actual French are pretty strong, so it could blow back against us. Ideas? --Internal Memo from Rep. G. Tean, 2031 *** I jumped into the Fury next to Gomorrah and then settled into place. Around us, the borrowed vans were starting to rise from the road, and the interceptors were already in the air, flying circles above. There was surprisingly little talk as we got ready. I half-turned in my seat and checked out the bomb-launcher in the back of the car. Gomorrah had just installed it, and it was basically just a bigger, more complex version of the bomb-dropping device wed installed in the vans. There was an opening to place grenades into, so thats what I did. Right, were going for longer-lasting things. And they need to survive the drop. Resonators are my go-to area-denial. Gomorrahs dropping fire. What else? Perhaps explosives that are proximity-detonated? They can fill any gaps in the line, and when an antithesis tries to go around the fire left by Gomorrahs payload, they can detonate. As long as they dont go off when a persons nearby, thats not a bad idea, I said. Thats easy to arrange. Might I suggest some nyanpalm as well? Itd be a shame to have created a whole new kind of flammable weapon only to leave it unused. I sighed, but she was probably right. Yeah, thats not a terrible idea. Lets load this sucker up. Points Reduced from 37,854, to 37,764 That stung a bit. Not so long ago I was in the 50-thousand point range. But that was before buying loads of food, more equipment, mounts, bomb-dropping devices and literally thousands of bombs. Oh, and some spatulas. If everything I purchased (spatulas aside) got used to murder aliens, then Id be back to where I was before, and probably past that. Gomorrah opened the driver-side door and slipped in. Is it loaded? she asked. At one hundred percent, I said. Weve got bombs for days. Oh? I asked. What would that look like? Im thinking a warmech. I blinked. That was... something. How big are we talking here? Because warmech sounds bigger than, like, power armour. The kind of shit youd expect to see from a top-tier samurai who isnt holding back at all. Its surprisingly worse than youd expect, actually, Gomorrah said. A big mobile weapons platform can only really be used in a few specific scenarios. Its like a tank. Sure, its strong and can destroy things well, but most of the time were clearing hives or clearing places room-by-room, or we need to navigate through a city. A tank cant really do that. A warmech has a few advantages, but not that many. Yeah, I said. It kinda made sense. But its also a fucking warmech. Exactly, Gomorrah said. Perfect for fighting very large antithesis. Things in the upper twenties and thirties. And its decent for defending a location if the locations safety doesnt matter that much. I liked the idea, but it sounded expensive. Maybe I should get one. It would go counter to your usual MO, Gomorrah said. The stealth part, at least. Im sure Myalis could get me an invisible warmech. I certainly could. Your Sunwatcher catalogue actually has a few options. Sunwatcher? I supposed that made sense, that same catalogue had given me power armour before, so it having something larger wasnt too surprising. Do you want to peruse the catalogue? Im sure we could find something youd like! Are you just going to tempt me into buying something big? I asked. Im pretty sure it will work too. A secondary screen opened on my augs, and Myalis uploaded a rotating image onto it. It was a highly detailed scan of a quadrupedal machine. It reminded me a little bit of the cat bots Id purchased before. Only this one had a small human figure next to it. The figure was just barely as tall as the warmechs legs. This model is made of reinforced titanium and aluminium, making it surprisingly light. It has twin 105mm cannons, a chest-mounted railgun, two 10mm Gatling guns mounted on its shoulders, a full sensor suite, and its tail and claws can deploy the same kind of blade as your Void Terminus. The pilot sits here, in the centre of the unit within an armoured and air-conditioned cockpit. The controls are entirely intuitive, and theres an onboard AI to help coordinate and balance the warmachine. I licked my lips. Fuck, it was kinda hot. "Alright, focus," I said, shaking my head to clear the thoughts of warmechs from my mind. "We have a job to do right now. Warmechs can wait." Gomorrah chuckled. "You''re right. Let''s get this operation underway and worry about the toys later." I nodded in agreement, and with that, we started our bombing run. The vans fell in line behind us, and we all advanced towards the shoreline, prepared to unleash our arsenal on the unsuspecting antithesis. We flew in a sort of arrow formation, the Fury at the front, with an interceptor on either side, then the vans behind in a trail with the third interceptor way at the back. We swept around in a big curve that lined us up with the shoreline, then Gomorrah brought us all down lower towards the ground until we were only a hundred metres off. Bombs away, she said. There was a constant clunk-clunk-clunk as bombs dropped out beneath us. I watched through one of the cars rear cameras as we turned the otherwise peaceful shoreline, lined with waterside homes and old wooden piers, into a warzone. Beautiful, I said. Nutcracker one, drop your load right after the end of ours, then pull up to circle. Rear Ender, youre next. *** Chapter Sixty-One - KittyKopter Chapter Sixty-One - KittyKopter Chapter Sixty-One - KittyKopter Deadvods are videos, usually uploaded to a site like Youtube or one of its competitors, which features a content creator doing... whatever it is that they normally do. Game, beauty, movies reviews, commentary on events, creating memes, uploading minidocumentaries... ect. On a mechanical level, theyre not so different from a normal channel. Except that the creator is dead.Fo?ll0w current novE?ls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m) The videos are pre-recorded. Often by an ill content creator, or one who is planning on taking their own life. They often make light of their own demise, using it as a macabre punchline which resonates well with an equally dead-inside generation of viewers. With the advent of greater deepfakes, the number of such videos, even created against the explicit desires of their once-living creators, had increased tremendously. --On Deathtuber and Deadvods, Mox Article, 2027 *** The runs start was... not exactly textbook. Or maybe it would be textbook, if someone ever decided to write a book about perfectly mediocre combat manoeuvres that kinda worked but only barely. The Furys run planted dozens of fiery explosions in a line across the shore, and the follow-up by the rag-tag group of vans elongated that line by... less than wed hoped. Mostly that was because even with decent tech helping our pilots aim, it didnt ensure that every bomb went off exactly where they were wanted. The line ended up being much thicker and shorter than what wed planned for, mostly so that the small gaps left between explosives were properly covered. Sucked, but that was how it was going to work out. We circled the air above the burning patch of coast for a while while Gomorrah and I spent points reloading the bombers and we prepared to come in for a second run. The smoke was going to make organic verification a little hard, but that was fine. The stretch wed bombed was about eighty metres long, which meant... wed be here for a while. Do you think we should split the bombers up? I asked. Send each one further ahead to create more, smaller blocks? They need to be within range for reloading. And that would mean that theyll be all spread out if the antithesis decide to show up, Gomorrah said. I nodded along, not disappointed to have my idea shot down. I wasnt married to it. Alright, welp, lets keep at it. I actually had very little to keep at. Gomorrah was the one doing the flying, and I realized that I was mostly just along for the ride at this point. Maybe I could have stayed back in Downtown to put out one or two more fires instead of sitting in the Fury to watch Gomorrah set some non-metaphorical fires alight. I decided to be at least a little productive. Myalis, do we have much of an idea of where the aliens are in all that water? Not an exact idea. No. The best I can give you are estimates based on satellite surveillance and observations from climate-change analysis devices in the region. It all points to a rather large hive, but my data could be fooled. What could do that? I asked, genuinely curious. Cat, Gomorrah said. Yeah? Stop imagining the enemy as cute. What, its not like I wouldnt shoot them anyway. The antithesis do have aquatic-specialising models, as well as modifications to existing models that make them more viable for aquatic environments. In this case, however, a large number of model ones could clear out a lake of this size in a few days to hours, depending on the number of them. Right, the bird-like ones were probably about as big as the average fish. I sat up straighter as something flew towards the drone. It wasnt creating much turbulence as it moved, but it was probably at least somewhat noticeable. I checked the controls, found the Evasive Manoeuvres option, and then toggled that on a moment before a model one tried to clamp down on the drone. Unfortunately for the bird, the drone was faster on the straightaway, and it shot away before it could do anything. The bombing run ended, and we almost immediately started on the next one. I was barely paying attention to that anymore. There was more than a single mean alien down here. The drones sonar fired, revealing a lakefloor hive that stretched on to the very edges of the sonars range. Large roots were all over, with heavy sacs next to them filled with unborn aliens. Corals, like pens for angry cows, held in thousands of smaller models while others moved along the surface of the hive. I saw a number of them pushing dead meat into bulging organic bags filled with whatever crap the hive was using as digestive juices. Ah, fuck, I said. Worse was the large line of aliens slowly walking its way to the shore. I had the drone follow them, and quickly realized that it stretched almost all the way to the shore. At the head of the line were several model twenty-twos. Huge mobile hives currently encircled by entire flocks of smaller aliens. They were forcing their way through the water on six massive legs each. They were a concern all on their own. Any one of them planting themselves close to Downtown could wreck the entire place if left unchecked, spawning a ready-made hive in no time at all. But the even bigger alien, the one whose model number I didnt even know... yeah, that one had me a lot more worried. I sent the video I had to Gomorrah and felt her sitting straighter a moment later. Thats going to be a problem, she said. Were bombing the wrong damned place, I said. And I dont think our bombs are big enough. That warmech is still within your price range, Catherine. *** Chapter Sixty-Two - Quick Thinking Chapter Sixty-Two - Quick Thinking Chapter Sixty-Two - Quick Thinking During the early 2010s, several companies ran this advertising campaign that encouraged people to name their children after a brand or corporation. These children would, in theory, benefit from discounts and rebates while shopping at those locations. Of course, that backfired spectacularly when most corporations forgot all about that by the time those children were old enough to purchase things themselves. --Interview with Walmart ''Walt'' McDonalds, 2034 *** I have a plan, I said. That was quick, Gomorrah said. The plan is that Ill jump out of this car and summon a giant warmech so that I can fight and hold off the aliens while you keep bombing the ground around me, I said. Gomorrah paused for a long few seconds. I see now why the plan was quick. Hey, its got decent odds of success, I think. We need to slow down the advance of those bastards, and thisll let the vans continue to drop bombs along the shoreline. The vans were coming around for another bombing run already, continuing the line that wed started already. Gomorrah and I had left them to it and were racing to where the antithesis were actually coming from, about a kilometre and a half further down. Fine, Gomorrah said. Dont die. I grinned. I wont, I promised. Myalis, how far can that mech you were talking about drop from, and can you summon it with me inside? I see where youre going with that line of questioning, and while the attempt does sound spectacular, it also sounds foolhardy. The warmech I proposed earlier can drop from a height of seven metres without any issue. Above that it will suffer increasing amounts of damage from the fall. As for the summoning, yes, I could summon the vehicle around you in mid-air. Or you could politely ask Gomorrah to swing down and drop you off at ground level. I groaned, but she was probably right. It wasnt nearly as badass though, to be dropped off than to jump out of a moving car, summon a warmech around me, then land with that. Gom, can you drop me off... about over there? I pointed to a spot some fifty-ish metres from the shore. There were some wooden piers over the lakeside where the water ended at a cet of cement walls. The piers stretched out over the water, and there were some restaurants nearby using them as sitting space. A few smaller models were already pulling themselves over the edge of the pier. Dog-like model threes, some tentacle-covered assholes too, and of course, a bunch of model ones were flying right out of the water and into the air for a short distance. A flock of these were hanging onto the rails, like seagulls on a wire, only worse in every way. Gomorrah brought the Fury down low and quick, the hood popping open to release a flamethrower which did flamethrower things to the nearest aliens. I waited for the fire to die down before stepping out. Stay safe, I said. Youre the one going out there, she said. Yeah, but Ill be fine, I said as I clicked the door shut. The Fury rose up past me in a wash of broiling air and I was left standing in the circle of burning pier over increasingly agitated waters. Gonna wanna back up a bit, I said to myself. Are you ready? How much is this going to cost? I asked. The more you put into it, the more youll get out of it. How long do I have before that model twenty-eight shows up? I asked. Approximately two minutes. I nodded. How longs the tutorial? Significantly longer than two minutes, Catherine. This is a full-on stealth capable warmech. Piloting it without assistance makes piloting a modern main battle tank look like riding a tricycle. The upside is that the wide control range means that a pilot can do some spectacular things with a vehicle like this one. I ground my teeth. Sure, letting the autopilot take care of things would be fine... but I really wanted to do the piloting myself. It was too cool not to be something I wanted. And I could just imagine the ladyboner Lucy would get once she found out. Do you have one of those implantable knowledge things? I asked. For a few points, certainly. I rolled my eyes. Really, Myalis? Actually, the Mark IV Mechcatular Nyanzerfaust comes equipped with its own learning architecture. All youre missing are the neural uplinks to truly make use of it all. Fine, I said. But nothing too intrusive. Call it two hundred or so points? Im feeling cheap right about now. New Purchase: Internal Neural Uplink System Points Reduced from 17,634 to 17,434 What Myalis got me came in the form of a small, boxy syringe with the words PRESS TO FOREHEAD written on one side. I did just that, and immediately felt a wave of cold washing over my head, like a sudden brain freeze. Little tendrils raced across and out of the box, and I almost ripped it away only to realise it was stuck there. Then my head vibrated for just a moment and I was hit with a sudden sense of deja-vu. System installed. There should be a new jack along the back of your ears. Youll find a connector on the ceiling, jack it in. I felt at the side of my head and found what she was talking about, a tiny pinprick hole that hadnt been there before. Wait, did that drill through my skull? Just a little bit. Dont worry, its stronger than it was before. I frowned as I tugged the jack out of the ceiling and shoved it into place. There was a noise, like connecting one of those old aug cables, then... then I felt myself. My vision doubled. I was at once in the cockpit, and also seeing out of the eyes of the mech. I moved my arm back into place, then raised a paw. Whoa, I said. This... was fucky. And unfortunately, as the pier exploded out around me, I was out of time to explore that fuckiness. *** Chapter Sixty-Three - Mechcatular Nyanzerfaust Activate Chapter Sixty-Three - Mechcatular Nyanzerfaust Activate Chapter Sixty-Three - Mechcatular Nyanzerfaust Activate Knowledge download tech was seen as a massive step forwards in the early 2030s. It allowed someone, anyone, to instantly become an expert in a specific field. Things like learning a new instrument or a new language in an instant is fantastic, and all it costs is a small fortune, but sometimes that price is worth it. A thousand hours spent learning Spanish, or thirty-thousand USD? Whats worth more to you? Tons of people signed on and got those early operations, and initially everything was fine. Then the downsides started to show up. What happens when your brain suddenly has a lot of new data with no concrete memories to go with it? It starts to make things up to fill the gaps. People imagined, and believed, in entire false backstories that didnt mesh with reality just to match the knowledge they now had. Then you had what we started to call PBS, or personality bleed syndrome, which is still barely understood, and yet can lead to all sorts of new and terrifying mental issues. --Doctor Lopez, McRill neurosurgeon in an podcast interview, 2037 *** I jumped back, all four legs spreading wide even as they opened up and the jet engines mounted into them fired. It wasnt enough thrust to lift me up, but it was enough, combined with a backwards leap, to send me flying off the pier. I landed roughly on all fours, claws digging furrows into asphalt until the mech came to a full stop. I paused then. All of that had been reflex. Like twirling my arm to stop myself from falling after catching my foot in a carpet or something. It was all done without thinking. And that would be fine, usually, only it wasnt my body that Id moved, but the warmechs. I ran over every action Id just taken. There had been several inputs on the two joysticks, and Id pressed it on the foot pedals a few times too. Fuck, I hadnt even known that this cockpit had foot pedals a moment ago. Myalis, this is some weird shit, I said. It can take a moment for newly uploaded knowledge to begin to feel natural. If you dislike the feeling, then we can always focus more on training modules in the future. Several vanguard have suggested a strong dislike of memory downloads in the past. Yeah, I can see why, I said. It didnt feel wrong, but it sure as shit didnt feel right either. A tool then, neutral depending on how it was used. For something like this, needing to learn something right then and there with no time to practice or do things right, that was acceptable, I supposed, but it still felt off. If I had learned how to move this mecha myself, would I have moved the way I had just then? How much of me was there in my actions if they were actions downloaded from some file or something. I didnt like it, basically. Well, no, that wasnt entirely truthful. I didnt like the mind fuckery bit. But piloting a multi-ton warmech so well that I was practically dancing between explosions? That was fucking awesome. If the antithesis were going to line themselves up for me, then I wasnt going to complain. I had a whole lot of points to make up for. The railgun charged in a split second, and I felt every hair in my body standing on end while I aimed the entire warmechs body at the biggest alien in the bunch. Then I pulled the trigger, and before I could register what happened to the alien, I felt the temperature in the cockpit jump up a dozen degrees all at once. It immediately started to cool down, but still. Damn. The alien got pretty hot too. I watched as it floundered, a hole large enough to crawl through punched right through its massive frame. The model twenty-two stumbled, then its eyes turned towards me and it let out a long, low note, like someone imitating a fog-horn with one nose plugged, only at actual fog-horn levels. The other antithesis started to rush forwards, and the sides of the model twenty-two opened up to vomit out dozens of smaller models all over the ground. It trampled on a few of those as it continued to move. How in the fuck is that still alive? I asked. Decentralised nervous system, mostly. Its essentially a mobile hive, after all. Try your cannons. The first two rounds are high explosive. They should help to carve into the model twenty-two. My cannons slid out of the warmechs sides and I barely had to aim before opening fire. Surprisingly, the kick from these was easier to handle than the kick from the Gatling guns. It was just a question of shifting the mechs weight down a little after every shot as opposed to fighting back against constant recoil. I fired a round from each cannon, this time paying a lot more attention to the hit itself. Both rounds punched into the mass of the model twenty-two, then almost immediately exploded, sending fire and plant guts and shrapnel flying. The model twenty-two, now missing three of its six limbs and a good chunk of its body, crashed to the ground. Nice, I said as I checked my ammo. The cannons were magazine fed, with each internal magazine holding five rounds of high explosive armour-piercing gyro-stabilised discarding anti-personnel bullshit. What even are these rounds? I asked. Theyre twenty-five points each. The primary sabot is surrounded by plastic-coated balls of cesium that disperse in a tight cone ahead of where you fire, ensuring that even if the main projectile misses, the target will still be peppered with supersonic projectiles that will immediately ignite. I watched as the number of aliens ripping themselves out of the water kept growing, even if a number of them were on fire. I hope thatll be enough, I said. *** Chapter Sixty-Four - Getting Hot Chapter Sixty-Four - Getting Hot Chapter Sixty-Four - Getting Hot Why is it always giant mechs with those damned samurai? --Respectfully, sir, because theyre cool. -Exchange between staff sergeant and general, the Pergignan incursion of 2032 *** I hopped to the side, then swiped a paw forwards. With my claws fully extended, the void terminus blades simply moved through the space occupied by any of the aliens in their path, leaving nothing but chunks behind. My attention wasnt just on those nearby, however. I had half an eye aiming my twin Gatling guns which were both raining constant fire on any of the smaller models around. It only took a split second of concentrated fire to rip through an entire swarm of model ones, and barely any more than that to kill dozens of model threes. Which was good, because the antithesis here were really going all out with the numbers. A small siren rang in the back of my head and I fired up the jump thrusters in the mechs feet while pushing back with my... its rear legs, sending me and the mech flying back half a dozen metres. It was enough to avoid the exploding, tangled mess of an antithesis artillery ball. Where had that warning come from? A quick check of my systems showed that Id received a ping from the warmechs lidar system that had detected an oncoming projectile and beamed the warning right into my brain. I shook my head, and only realized a split-second later that Id made the mech shake its head too. This was getting weird. I wasnt exactly sharing most of my senses with the Mechcatular Nyanzerfaust, but a lot of its controls were linked to my augs, and I was controlling it with an ease and familiarity that was freaky. It was like getting dressed with the lights off while I knew exactly where Id thrown my pants. Or something like that. I was moving and acting and controlling this thing as if it was second nature, but I hadnt practised for it. Some bits of me were confused as hell. The rest of me really wanted to just kick back and have fun, because this was a fucking blast. I mechashifted my sides open and watched as a dozen model threes charged my way, each one of them salivating at the thought of taking a chomp out of me. So I deployed my 105mm guns and fired both. The explosion changed the minds of the aliens in a rather permanent fashion as it spread them over a couple of acres. The guns reloaded automatically, ejecting a pair of casings that I could fit my arm into with a very satisfying ker-chunk while I sprayed another horizontal sweep through the smoke the explosion had knocked up with my Gatling guns. Having fun? Gomorrahs voice asked in my ears. I redeployed the 105mm guns and fired, letting the mechs auto-targeting software do most of the work after I highlighted the targets I wanted dead. And they did a fantastic job of making them very dead. That seemed to piss them off, at least judging by the way they all stared at me, some of them pacing the edge as if waiting. It struck me just how fucking alien these aliens were. They were too calm. Then the water behind them bulged out in two places. To the right came a model twenty-two, a mobile hive like the one Id just put down a few minutes ago. It clambered onto the shore with the ponderous movements of a lazy elephant and ten times the girth. Smaller flying models were already pouring off of it and taking to the air to swarm above. It pushed the entire line of aliens forwards, sending dozens to their deaths as they fell into the flames. To the left came that one model that Id only caught a glimpse of underwater. Now I could see it in the ultra-sharp contrast provided by my mechs sensor suite. It was long and tall, with a head half the size of my mech with jaws that looked like it could chew concrete and two very, very long legs that were longer than all the rest of it. The legs were really throwing me off, actually. The model twenty-three was a good two or three metres taller than my mech, but that was while it was crouched. This thing basically had chicken-style legs, with fat, armoured thighs and a skinny pair of forearms that looked way too human for comfort, even if their size was all wrong. Basically, it was a fucking t-rex if a t-rex could be made out of weeds. The alien swivelled its head, and its too-many eyes locked onto me across the sweltering sheen of fire between us. Then it ran. Is that thing fireproof? I asked. Yes. Fuck! I quickly aimed right at it and fired from both cannons, then watched in disbelief as one of the rounds ricocheted right off its thigh with nothing to show for it but a small explosion and some light searing. The other punched into its chest and did fuck-all. You might want to move. This mech isnt rated to resist the biting force of a model twenty-three. Got it, I said. Didnt need to be told twice. I turned, fired a parting shot with the one cannon still able to turn enough to shoot towards it, then I tucked the guns away and took off running. We were in a residential area, with plenty of lake-side apartments and nicer homes with little lawns. Id have to see if I could get this thing to lose me in all of this mess so that I could punch a hole through its ugly head. *** SCS Fanfiction Contest Winner - Above the Clouds - By Luke W. Logan SCS Fanfiction Contest Winner - Above the Clouds - By Luke W. Logan Above the Clouds - By Luke W. Logan The Empyrean Hotel, Casino & Spa sits in a geostationary orbit 35,787 kilometres above the Earth''s equator. A seamless blend of Vanguard technologies and human ingenuity, the Empyrean''s facilities boast unmatched levels of luxury without ever compromising on security. With literally thousands of kilometres of deadly vacuum between you and any unwanted guests, when you stay at the Empyrean you can truly relax; safe from incursions, ex-(and current)wives, paparazzi, and tax authorities! Single suite rooms start at $5000 per night. The Empyrean Hotel, Casino & Spa''s promotional pamphlet. #### Gomorrah stalked the streets of River Heights burning mansions and estates with an irreverent glee that could be seen through the reflective faceplate of her armoured helm. The camera angle cut from directly above to offer close-upand frequently provocativeshots of her lithe form as the Samurai made her way through an upscale neighbourhood that had been considerably less on fire only a few moments before. The AI rendering the various camera angles tended to get a little carried away, and some perspectives were considerably more gratuitous than others. In many ways, it was like watching an anime with a serious fan-service problem, in others, it was just a total violation of Gomorrah''s personal privacy. Deepfaking a Samurai was an especially dangerous and illicit endeavour. But here on the Empyrean''s casino floor, using spy satellites and AI to spice up real-time arson was amongst the least of Management''s many sins. A rolling bar of text scrolled along the bottom of the screen calculating the approximate property damage so-far and offering decreasingly favourable odds for those who could correctly guess the final value of Gomorrah''s napalm-spraying spree. A cluster of middle-aged guests watched the footage with rapt attention, collectively wincing when the feed cut away to differentless popularSamurai engaged in more mundane forms of frantic violence. The camera always switched back after a few minutes of flashy ultra-violence. Newer Samurai were far safer to spy on, and the pyro-nun was insanely hotpun intended. I tore my gaze away from the screens showcasing Gomorrah''s beautifully lit arse just in time to avoid braining myself on an open car door. The culprit of my near-miss was the slowly rotating vehicle taking up a considerable amount of space within the casino floor. My free arm windmilled ungraciously while the drinks balanced in my other tilted precariously. The instincts I''d honed through five gruelling years in the service industry saved both them, and a few days'' worth of docked wages, as I righted my tray, and kept the overpriced liquors in their respective glasses. I also avoided falling into the first sports car launched into space, but that would have just been humiliating rather than financially eviscerating. I glared at the bright red vehicle and promised myself vengeance should I ever discover a time machine. Somewhere in the not-too-distant-past, Space Karen was enjoying themselves having sent the electric vehicle into orbit and I couldn''t let that stand. I understood it was just the refurbished leftovers of a fifty-year-old publicity stunt, but now that it nearly killed me on a daily basis, I thoroughly despised it and its arguably beneficial legacy. Fucking, Space Karen. The few tonnes of antique steel and fibreglass that made up the refurbished vehiclenot to mention its constantly rotating podiumhad been placed right in the middle of my preferred path from the bar to the screen lounge. Whichever genius from Management had decided to put the ''Car to be won!'' on the Casino floor, had yet to update the haptics in our trays. So when I daydreamed and let the gentle nudges guide me towards whoever was waiting on their drink, I frequently found myself walking directly into the bright red convertible. Despite my grumbles, I made it to my section without further incident. I then spent five minutes unloading my tray to a collection of wealthy gamblers with more money than taste. The haptics in my tray told me where to go, and the cameras in the ceiling made sure my pay would be docked for any mistakes I might make. This early in the day it was better to be seen and not heard. The guests primarily ordered through their augs, and then I would appear a few minutes later to hand over their beverages without a word. They very rarely tipped, but considering nobody tried to flirt with me, I didn''t feel like complaining. When my tray was empty, I took one last look at Gomorrah on the screens above before making my way back towards the bar. This time I pointedly avoided my inanimate nemesis and walked a little closer to the felt-lined tables where more respectable gamblers exchanged large fortunes over the turn of a card. A small part of me was jealous of the guest''s obscene wealth. The average bet made in this casino was more than twice my annual salary, but having worked at the Empyrean for so long, I had largely grown numb to the allure of wealth. Instead, I had become deeply afraid that the attitudes of the idle rich I catered to were representative of the majority, not the minority of those with true money. I had seen enough decadence and lack of basic human empathy from the politicians and CEOs who ran my world to last a lifetime. Management were bad, but the things I''d seen guests do while working a night shift made those sociopathic monsters seem like saints. Seriously, if you want to continue sleeping soundly in blissful ignorance, never work nights in a five-star hotel. The tips simply aren''t worth the existential dread. When I reached the bar, I set my tray down gently and sighed. "You okay, Gwen?" I looked up and saw Sybille smiling at me from behind the counter. She was the closest thing I had to a friend in the Empyrean, which was a big deal for me. Shuttles down to Earth were maddeningly expensive, and staff were effectively stuck in the hotel for six-month tours at a time. No matter how spacious the crew facilities wereand ours were not spaciousspending six months in an enclosed space with someone either made you friends for life or the direst of enemies. Given my personality, I had cultivated a lot of enemies during my time at the Empyrean. Sybille was one of the few who''d been working here longer than me, and she was the only person who not only tolerated my quirks but actually seemed to like them. She called me ''neurospicy'' and while it made me feel more like an overseasoned taco than a person, it made me feel like her overseasoned taco. I could quite happily live with that. "I''m fine," I lied, not really meaning it but daring her to question me. "Do you have drinks for me?" "Yeah, you''ve got some big drinkers today. There''s a lot of old whiskeys to go back to the screens," Sybille said, placing the first of many tumblers on my no-longer vacant tray. The drinks kept piling up far in excess of what I was used to, and my eyebrows quirked upwards. "That''s a lot of booze." "Ten points to captain obvious." I blushed. "You know what I mean," I said defensively. "I do, but you''re fun to tease," Sybille replied with her usual smile. "Have you been paying attention to what''s actually going on in your section, or have you been sneaking glances at Gomorrah''s ass all morning?" "I" "Yeah that''s what I thought." She chuckled, but there was no joy in it, and I couldn''t help but frown. "The world''s burning, Gwen. More so than usual. The high-ranking Samurai are MIA and all over the planet anathema are hunting people for food. These guys" Sybille gestured towards where the guests I was tasked to serve watched the Samurai fight aliens live on TV "are all politicians, shareholders, or captains of various industries. They''ll know better than most how bad it really is, and if you look, you''ll see that they''re all drinking. Heavily. Rumour has it there''s been talk amongst Management about dropping the hotel''s no-minors policy and start selling permanent suites to families" I scoffed. "And give up all the money they make from the joygirl floor? Please. It will never happen," I answered. "I dunno, Gwen Rich people generally like their kids being alive more than they enjoy a quick tumble in the sheets with a well-compensated stranger. Besides, they can have families in the suites and keep the joygirl floor. It''s a big hotel," Sibylle said, and she wasn''t wrong about that last part. "Still, I can''t imagine this place with little brats running about." "Me neither, but times are changing." "You make it sound like it''s the end of days," I said. Sybille shrugged. "Maybe it is." There was a pregnant pause while my friend continued to pour expensive liquor we could never afford into crystal glassware we would never own. I looked back over at my section and tried to imagine the millionaires and billionaires who made up the Empyrean''s clientele indulging in their illicit vices while their families slept only a few hundred metres away, rather than thirty-five thousand kilometres they did now. I couldn''t see it. But then again, I couldn''t see a lot of things. I looked at their faces, searching for some of the fear Sibylle suggested was there. They looked drunk, but that was about all I could divine. Maybe if I was normal rather than neurospicy I''d be able to understand facial expressions like Sybille could, but I struggled to maintain eye contact at the best of times and I had the social instincts of a turnip. If it wasn''t for my augs, I wouldn''t even be able to function in a place as loud and bright as the casino. But I had them, so it wasn''t a big deal. People though they were still hard for me to work with. "Your drinks are ready," Sybille said. She was smiling at me again, but I didn''t know why she''d gone from being needlessly dramatic to overly friendly. I smiled back and made sure to look into her eyes for three full seconds, because that was usually the right thing to do. "Thanks," I eventually replied. I picked up my tray, now filled to the brim with heavy glassware and followed the haptics back to my section. Again they nearly guided me into that damned sportscar, and again I avoided an expensive spill by the skin of my teeth. I wove between the crowds while Gomorrah on the screens above wove between a swarm of flaming anathema. They barrelled towards her threatening death, whereas most of my customers only wanted their drinks. The few who wanted more, I evaded, displaying what I like to think of as a similar level of effortless grace to the pyro-nun I was so fond of.Chee?ck out latest novels at novelhall.com My tray was half-full when it happened. The floor lurched beneath my feet and I both felt and heard the tortured groan of metal shuddering through the Empyrean''s substructure. The lights went out, only to be replaced a heartbeat later by red emergency lighting and a siren blared its loud accompanying wails. My augs immediately kicked in, muting the worst of the noise and softening the glare while guests around me cried out in a panic. During the hustle of suddenly moving bodies, I very nearly dropped my tray. Then the main lights came back on and the siren abruptly stopped. Normalcy resumed, ushered in by the disconcerted mutterings of the uber-rich and I wondered what the hell was wrong. This was firmly out of the ordinary. I liked the almost rote routine of the usual day-to-day. I thrived on it even if my job was boring as hell. But I did not like this. My augs were doing their best to keep me calm and functional, but they weren''t perfect, and I could feel my own panic rising as the anxious crowd pulled me under. Then a burst of static emerged from the recessed speakers which had previously been playing ambient mood music, and I like many others, looked up at the ceiling. "Apologies for the disturbance. Some fast-moving debris came close to the hotel and we had to fire up the manoeuvring thrusters. Someone in engineering didn''t quite get the message and flipped the general alarm as a mistake. "Engineering, respectfully, you don''t know what you''re talking about" "Respectfully, Sir, we do. Now please, open the bulkheads so we can make our way to the escape pods. The station is done, we both know that." "...Engineering. You are to stay in place and coordinate the remote DC drones. This is just a drill." "I have sixty people down here, you can''t just leave us" The engineer''s voice cut out mid-sentence. "Sibylle, did we lose our connection?" I asked. "No, Empyrean Actual cut their comms," she answered. "Well fuck, what do we do now?" "You help me into my chair, and then we figure out how to get out of here." I nodded an action which is considerably easier when you don''t have a hundred-and-twenty-pound woman lying on your chest. I slowly squirmed out from under her, making brief and extremely uncomfortable eye contact with the service staff who''d all gathered close around the bar. Phil helped me to my feet, and then together we finagled Sibylle back into her chair. I pulled up a map of the Empyrean on my augs, and then with a marker, I''d stolen from behind the bar, I started to sketch out a rough floor plan of the hotel. "We''re here," I said, pointing to a rough blocky section I''d drawn that was connected to the central spire of the station. "The majority of the escape pods are located here," I added. This time pointing to the base of that same spire. "We have to go down three decks to cross onto the central spire, and then another twelve to reach the escape pods." "If there are fires, we can''t risk the lifts. That''s a lot of stairs," Phil said, nodding towards Sibylle in her wheelchair. "I''m a big girl. I can take care of myself," she snapped. "Besides, if we stick to the service corridors where the gravity is weaker, I''ll be able to pull myself along just fine. I''m more concerned that we''ll run into a room without pressure. We don''t exactly have any vac-suits lying around." "Maybe we should stay put and wait for a rescue," Margot said, and everyone did the sensible thing of ignoring her. "If we need them, we can always double back and get vac-suits from the nearest maintenance locker. There are only twenty of us, so if we hit a few along the way we''ll have plenty. What we need is a way to get through the bulkheads. They''re designed to withstand an explosive decompression so we can''t exactly kick them down," Phil added. "There''s only twenty of us in this room. If Management has locked down the entire hotel, then there are hundreds of staff members just sitting on their hands waiting to die. We can''t leave them," I said. "So what do we do?" Richarda twenty-something craps dealerasked. There was a long pause while I worked up the nerve to share my idea. "Two birds, one stone. We talk to engineering. If we can hack a comms system, then there''s no way that many nerds can''t hack a bulkhead. We explain what''s going on, and get them to talk us through opening the doors. They can use their alarms to help us avoid the depressurised areas, and failing that, they''re our best chance at patching a minor leak. That''s how we save everyone," I said. "Shit, the weird girl actually has a good idea," someone said, and I didn''t know whether to feel flattered or insulted. "Alright, Phil, Gwen, help me get back under the counter. I need to jack into the bar''s computer," Sibylle groaned. *** It only took Sibylle a few minutes to hack into the hotel''s comms for a second time. Routing a call to engineering and then waiting for them to pick up, however, took much longer, and I personally spent those minutes filled with a growing sense of anxiety and dread. I was one of three people who worked on the casino floor who had both cybernetic eyes and ears. Of the three of us blessed with both sensory augmentations and the Empyrean hotel''s monitoring software, I was the only one with some experience splicing wires. Sibylle sagely explained it would be relatively easy to forward a feed of my vision directly to engineering and that it might help speed things along. I was embarrassed by how easy it was for her to gain access to everything I could both hear and see. It made me want to take a really long shower with my eyes firmly closed when I considered how long I''d been working here. If it wasn''t for Sibylle broadcasting the feeds to the screen lounge, I would never have known anyone was intercepting the signal. Then again, the Empyrean made a lot of money off of deepfaking Samurai, and there was a literal floor of the hotel filled with sex workers, so I guess I was a rather boring option for any potential pervs in Management to spy on. "Okay, Gwen, you''re going to want to cut the red and orange wire coming out of the bus junction." I moved my paring knife to do just that. It was thoroughly unsuitable for the task at hand being designed to slice through lemons and limes with ease rather than plastic-coated cabling. For some reason, its designers had decided against giving it a rubberized grip that would allow me to cut through live wires in relative safety. To make up for its inadequacies, its already too-small-handle was wrapped in insulating paper napkins for my peace of mind if nothing else. "Not that one! That''s the maroon and orange wire. If you cut that you''re dead, Gwen!" Nigel blurted out, his voice appearing only in my ears. I froze. "That''s red," I argued. "It''s maroon. If you can''t tell the difference, you should hand that fruit knife over to someone who can. We''ve got a lot riding on this, Gwen." "I know, I know. You don''t have to tell me for the third time," I said, swiftly cutting through the red and orange wire and very nearly dragging my blade through several more. I could hear Nigel''s sucked in breath, and then his eventual exhale when I didn''t combust in an explosion of electrically-propelled flames. "What next?" "That''s it. You''re done. Try the release, and it should open. You''ve just got to do that on every bulkhead between the casino and engineering without ever making a mistake between red and maroon" "No pressure, right?" I joked. "No pressure," Nigel awkwardly echoed after a brief delay. Obviously, there was a lot of pressure. It turns out engineering was too important to be locked away behind a standard bulkhead, and had its own set of Vanguard-grade blast doors in case of a reactor meltdown. For now, Nigel and his team were safe, but they weren''t getting out anytime soon without the Empyrean Actual''s help, or well, mine. Failing an override from the bridge, they needed someone on the outside to physically disassemble some of the hydraulics, and wethe casino service staffwere the only parts of the hotel talking to engineering. Suddenly the twenty souls I had to ferry to the escape pods had ballooned to eighty, and we hadn''t even left the room yet. "Thanks, Nigel. We''re coming for you," I said, preparing to mute our call. "Don''t worry about it Gwen, just save all our lives and we''ll call it even," he replied. I could tell it was supposed to be a joke, but I didn''t smile. Instead, I put myself into a ''busy'' subchannel without properly dropping out. I pulled my attention back to my fellow waitstaff and card handlers acutely aware that everything I said and did was likely being analysed by sixty desperate people in the bowels of the hotel''s engineering department. I swallowed my anxiety. "The bulkhead doors should open now," I announced, and collectively my colleagues let out a long held-in sigh. We''d prepared as best we could, gathering water, clean cloths, a handful of fruit knives and not much else. Honestly, we had no idea what lay beyond the bulkhead doors besides potentially lethal pressure drops and uncontrolled fires. Living and working aboard what is essentially a glorified space station can be stressful at the best of times, but after nearly an hour of wondering what was on the other side of those reinforced doors, there was little that could be worse than our fevered imaginations. Sibylle rolled her wheelchair to the door''s controls. She nodded once stoically and hit the emergency release button. With a loud hiss of the hydraulics, deadbolts retracted, and then Phil cycled the door. Despite Nigel repeatedly assuring us there was breathable air on the other side, we all breathed a little easier when the relatively fresh air flowed in with the opening of the door. The bulkhead swung open, revealing a familiar hallway the likes of which could be found throughout the Empyrean hotel complex. Only this one had something more than corporate art and fancy carpets to attract our collective attention. There, standing in the middle of the doorway on four muscular legs, was a model three. "Anathema," I whispered. It cocked its head to the side, and then before we could even begin to close the heavy bulkhead, the alien surged towards us through the open door. *** Chapter Sixty-Five - T-Rex Vs Giant Mecha Cat Chapter Sixty-Five - T-Rex Vs Giant Mecha Cat Chapter Sixty-Five - T-Rex Vs Giant Mecha Cat SexyHawk: Ohhh! Go catmech! TigerA: Whats the t-rex looking one? SDC: Cant be a trex, no feathers Storyteller: stfu, you know what they meant. Its an m23 October: can we get an interior view? Someone: Mess them up Stray Cat! --Witch commentary on the live drone footage of the Burlington Incursion, 2057 *** I ran, and the model twenty-three chased. A few things became immediately obvious. While I had a lot more manoeuvrability and could turn and move in the air much faster than it could, the damned thing was fast. The other thing that became obvious was my lack of rear-facing weaponry. The Gatling guns mounted on the mechs shoulders could turn all the way around to fire backwards, but that was about it, and while a constant stream of armour-piercing 10mm was doing something, it wasnt doing something fast enough. I came around a corner, claws throwing up sparks as I scrambled for purchase on an old school cobbled road. The t-rex looking motherfucker behind me just rammed through the building on the street corner then opened its mouth wide to try and take a bite out of my ass while masonry crashed and skid across the road. I kept moving, whipping my thagomizer-equipped tail into its face with its void terminus blades lit and extended. The crack of tail-meeting-face made the model twenty-three flinch aside, and it scored a long cut across its face. Not nearly enough to kill the damned thing, but hopefully enough it hurt it. I kept running, ducking into an alleyway between two smaller businesses, The model twenty-three paused at the entrance and glared at my back. It couldnt follow through the narrow gap, not without ripping through the entire thing and risking getting itself stuck. So it went up instead, powerful legs bunching beneath it before it leapt, ripping apart the road beneath it before it crashed onto the roof of the building to my right. It instantly collapsed under several tons of rampaging alien mass. I swore as I ducked down lower and pushed myself to move faster and slip out of the far end before I was the one to get stuck in the crashing building. You okay? Gomorrah asked. Ask me once Ive killed this fucker, I snapped. Reload with HE, I said. And tell me where that assholes brain is. Upper chest, about half a metre below the nape of its neck. Highlighting now. Mortars are loaded. My mechs chest opened and I pulled the trigger. Immediately, the cockpit warmed up as I fired the railgun. The aliens chest gained a hole I could crawl through even as six high explosive grenades landed in the goop around it and detonated. I waited for just a moment, then shrugged and fired the railgun again, then unfolded the 105mm guns and fired the remaining rounds I had left before needing to reload about where the model twenty-three was. Then I waited, and as the dust settled it revealed a very fucked up alien, its upper body shredded apart, one arm missing, and head flopped to the side. Its technically still alive. Wow, I said. Well, lets make Gomorrah proud then. Ive got to have some sort of burning grenade thatll melt that thing. I watched for a few merry moments as the model twenty-three cooked. I was feeling pretty good about myself, all things told. If youre done, can you do something about the rest of the aliens? Gomorrah asked. Theyre making it past the firewall, and Im busy over here. Ah, right, got it. Consider me on the way, I said. I let go of the mechs controls for a moment and rubbed at the back of my neck and shifted my legs a bit to stretch them. That had been kinda awesome, but also stressful as hell. Who knew giant mecha on monster combat could be so nerve-wracking. My break over, I checked my GPS, realized that Id gotten turned around at some point, then realigned myself with the shore and took off running while ordering up a reload of everything. More mortars, more shells for my guns. Id live with just one Gatling gun for now. It was something I could fix later. And maybe Id use replacing it as an excuse to upgrade my new toy, because I couldnt see myself not using this in the future. Would Lucy fit in the cockpit or would it be too tight? Or would she have to like... ride on top. I could very vaguely recall her once saying that she wanted to ride a horse one day, back when she was much younger and really into ancient horse movies for whatever reason. I wondered if this was a suitable replacement for a horse. Giant robot cats were so much cooler than horses. (Although, now that I was thinking about it, some of that obsession might have been inspired by riding pants.) Cat, are you getting there, or not? Gomorrah asked. Yeah, yeah, I sent back before pushing the mech to move a little faster. Once I got closer to the pier, I could see why Gomorrah was getting nervous. There were a lot of aliens here. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them. Most in the single-digits, but a few bigger ones, though none as large as the model twenty-three Id just killed. There was a mobile hive left, however, slowly trudging through the burnt ground without a care in the world. Id have to change that. Remind these aliens that there very much was a reason to worry. *** Chapter Sixty-Six - Spinning a Yarn Chapter Sixty-Six - Spinning a Yarn Chapter Sixty-Six - Spinning a Yarn League of Samurai Legends is a Massive Online Battle Arena that is quite unique, or was when it first released. The game plays as a 3v1, with three players on the samurai team working together against an antithesis player who controls the opposing faction. The samurai players control various historical and current samurai, as well as a few original characters, buying gear as they rack up points for completing objectives and killing antithesis npcs. The antithesis player interacts with the game in an entirely different way, controlling it as a micro-management-heavy RTS wherein they create and react to the choices of the samurai players. Games can be extremely tight, and it affords and encourages a wide range of tactics and playstyles. --LoSL wiki page, 2034 *** I lurched forwards, claws swiping towards a model five which I grabbed with almost contemptuous ease. Then, while shifting back and to the side to avoid a rush from some smaller aliens, I raised my mech up onto its hindlegs for just a moment and spiked the tanky model five into its comrades. I didnt stick around, however, and bounded ahead with several leaps while my remaining Gatling gun fired off small bursts into the more densely packed crowds of aliens.Fo?ll0w current novE?ls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m) The nice thing about being in a several-ton warmech was that the little aliens were basically a non-threat, and most of the antithesis here were little ones. Advanced stealth bullshit meant the antithesis only knew where I am was I stopped to wreck their shit. The rest of the time, they were just running around, clueless. The antithesis were circling around their mobile hive, a few hundred of them bumping into each other as they created a cordon of plant meat around the biggest alien around, keeping it safe. Well, not really that safe. A flick of my thumb folded the mech''s back plates just enough for the mortars to poke out and fire. A subsystem of a subsystem tracked their trajectory as they flew in a nice arc and landed spread out amongst the aliens. Then they detonated, and alien meat was sent flying all over. I continued to move, back clasping shut even as I avoided a swarm of model ones swooping over the spot where Id been with suicidal speed. On a whim, I turned around and pinged one of the black birds in the middle of the flock. The mechs auto-targeting started to draw lines to it, telling me exactly where I needed to aim and how much leeway I had in positioning myself. I unfolded the 105mm cannon on my right side and adjusted the mechs stance so that the gun could align itself on the fly. I fired the moment the auto-targeting went green, and my mechs hindclaws dug into the road as it absorbed the recoil. The shell detonated in the middle of the model ones, fire and shrapnel and a powerful concussive blast turning the entire flock into cooked meat. That had given away my position, but at this point, I wasnt caring so much. There were three artillery models near the shoreline, hanging back until they had an idea of where I was. An alarm rang in my head as they fired, so I moved, running around in a large curve. Halfway there, I pounced up and landed onto a model four, squishing it beneath my weight before I started to jump ahead in a zig-zag pattern. My thagomizer-tail flicked from side to side, splattering aliens with every swipe. The last of the aliens left around here charged my way, but a quick swipe of a paw splattered them, and a roar from my Gatling gun took care of those that werent close enough for that. I turned, attention to my sensors as I looked for more... only there werent any. Huh, I said. Well done. The areas cleared. The area was more than cleared. It was fucked. Every building in the area was either on fire or would have looked better if it was. Dozens of very loud cannons going off and stray 10mm rounds from my Gatling guns had shredded homes and lakeside businesses. That wasnt accounting for the street itself. Claw marks deep enough to crouch in marked the road, painting a wild picture of everywhere Id run. Bodies, most of them in several pieces, were splattered all over the place, and the road was painted in soot and chlorophyll. The biggest corpse was still smoking, its insides burning. As I watched, a small egg-like thing flopped out of the side of the model twenty-two and squirmed for a moment. Then a tiny model three broke free from the shell it was born in and shook itself. I walked over and crushed it into the road. Well, I guess, uh... yeah, that was something. You might want to take a moment to cool down. Your heart is still racing at nearly dangerous levels and your body temperature is higher than optimal. The AC kicked on properly, and I let out a sigh. She was probably right. I blinked a few times, my organic eye burning and somewhat exhausted. Gomorrah, things are cleared up here, I said. Got it. Bombing runs finishing up along the shore. Ill be passing back over where you are and dropping something a little more permanent in... about five minutes. Alright, I said as I sat the mech down. I was tempted to lick the blood off my paws, then I realized that it didnt matter, and I didnt have a tongue and... why the fuck would I do that? Ill uh, stay here for a bit then. That was impressive, Stray Neko-Sama! Intel-chan said. I saw from the bombers feed. Well, I saw some of it. You were invisible for most of that, but it was still awesome to see. Too bad the aliens dont have morale, because if they did, wed just send them the vid and theyd surrender. Thanks, I think, I said. Do you mind if I share it? Itll be good for our morale, at least. And youre less likely to be shot on the way back! I snorted. Yeah, sure, if itll help a little. Nice! In any case, I put in a special order for you, and also, the reinforcements are arriving early. ETA one hour. Reinforcements... holy shit, about time. I could feel a bit of stress leaking from my back, but I tried to keep my hopes in check. Whats the order? I asked, curious. A big, big ball of yarn, Intel-chan said. *** Chapter Sixty-Seven - Late Chapter Sixty-Seven - Late Chapter Sixty-Seven - Late The best thing to happen to sports was the dissolving of most major sporting leagues and associations. It occurred rather suddenly in the late 2020s and into the early 2030s, but interest in sports had been waning for some time before that. What replaced them were more extreme and audience-friendly forms of entertainment. No-bars or barriers--sports where every player is a perfect machine, pushing what humanity can do the same way racing cars were tuned to near perfection in their own sport. --Sports in the 21st century, a biography of an art, 2041 *** I returned to Downtown Burlington at my own pace. Which meant, pretty damned quickly, all told. Mostly that was because my new warmech, even with a few dents in it, could top out at seventy kilometres an hour on a straightaway, and it wasnt like I had to deal with any traffic on the dead streets. I had half my attention split on my damage readouts and on the internal repairs of the mech. It had a pretty in-depth self-repair system. Nothing too fancy. It wasnt like it had nanomachines or anything over the top like that. But every system did have multiple levels of redundancy, and the mech was slowly testing out the systems that had been shut down, seeing what they could take now that the fighting was over. How much is it gonna cost to get this thing back up to functional? I asked. Not nearly as much as the initial price. Though, there are multiple ways to repair the Mechcatular Nyanzerfaust. The simplest and least cost-effective would be to buy all the missing parts as new, with a small surcharge to have them appear on the vehicle itself. The much more affordable option would be to simply return to your New Montreal fabricator and build the damaged parts there. Seeing as how you dont have the complex education needed to repair the system yourself, or replace its parts, Id suggest buying a repair drone for a few hundred points and allow it to effect the repairs itself. Sounds slow, I said. I believe that you will be afforded that time soon enough. Frowning, I poked at my friendly AI. Whats that mean? Even though you are not officially a member of the Family, they have been treating you as one to some degree. According to their internal protocols, after the last 48 hours--which they would classify as mid-high on their stress charts, you would be afforded five days of obligatory rest. Obligatory rest? I asked. That sounds like a terrible deal. I dont wanna obligatory anything. Besides, Im still good to go. The rest period is to give the vanguard time to destress and heal from any injuries. Prolonged periods of high-stress can lead to mental fatigue, cumulative stress injuries, and a whole host of other issues. But you are correct. You are still capable of continuing. I... wasnt expecting Myalis to agree to the last part. Thanks, I guess? You are, and this is said with all due fondness, very much abnormal, Catherine. Your brain is wired wrong in the most entertaining way. I almost want to see you trying to take five days off, just to see the panic of inaction settle in, but that would be cruel and unusual and surprisingly unhealthy. Oh, yeah, that made some sense. I walked my mech over, keeping it low and slow so that I had time to take in the scene. There were a good hundred or so people in navy-blue uniforms with armoured cuirasses, arms, and kneepads moving around. They were better equipped than the local militia and it showed. I wasnt sure if it was samurai tech though. Probably not. Then I noticed a small group looking my way, four figures dressed in wildly different styles. I recognized one of them though, a younger man in what looked like jeans and a faintly glowing chest piece covered by a long leather coat. He had a long wooden rifle slung over his back and a tipped back cowboy hat that looked like something had chewed on it. Crackshot Cowboy, from New Montreal. Which made the others around him samurai as well. I glanced over the other three. Two girls, another guy. One of the girls was tiny. Not young, just really small, with an outsized backpack and what looked like flame-throwers? The white costume and glowing neon snowflakes on her outfit suggested the opposite. The other woman was dressed like an old school racecar driver. I didnt see any weapons on them, but her helmet was clearly some samurai-grade shit, and the suit looked too good to be commercial. The last was a really tall guy in a leotard with mechanical bunny ears stuck to his head and disgustingly hairy legs, and I really didnt feel like inspecting him too closely. I wasnt an expert at shit all, but something told me this bunch was entirely made up of new samurai. They didnt send the cream, did they? I suspect that Burlingtons going to be used as a safer location for new Family-related Vanguard to train. Well, that made some sense. I crouched my warmech down, then opened the cockpit. Something scraped, but the top of the mech opened up all the same and I yoinked my connection out from the side of my head with a swipe, then resisted the urge to vomit all over the cockpit. Theres a shut-down process for a reason, Catherine. I went from being the machine, or at least having it in my brain, to not in a split second, and it felt... weird, like disconnecting my prosthetic arm, but all over and all at once. But I had noobs to show up, so I fought past it, then stood up atop my mech. I hadnt realised from within just how battered it looked. There were dents all over, and several hundred litres of plant blood painted on its exterior. I checked on the missing Gatling gun and held back a wince. That was going to cost something to replace. But for now, I had to get started on making a good first impression. Youre fucking late, I said. *** Chapter Sixty-Eight - Paperworker Chapter Sixty-Eight - Paperworker Chapter Sixty-Eight - Paperworker The Family is many things, but most of all, its a place for the buck to stop. --Agent Argent, 2032 *** I jumped off my warmech and landed in a crouch, boots muffling any of the noise I should have made dropping to the ground like that. My coat flapped a bit, so I straightened it as I stood up. Crackshot, nice to see you again, I said. Miss Stray Cat, he said with a nod. Pleased to see you too. Didnt know youd be here when they sent me over, but Im happy to see you again. You know her? the girl with the ice-themed gear asked. I think she pitched her voice low enough not to carry, but that didnt really matter to me. Crackshot and I have a bit of history, I said. Was it me or Gomorrah that gave you the name? I asked. Ah, that was you, he said with a grin. Pleased with it so far too. So thanks for that. And yeah, Miss Stray Cat helped me a heap when I was just starting off. Still havent spent all the points I made during that big wave. I nodded along and buried my envy. Id made some points back today, but I was probably going to leave Burrlington with about the same amount Id gone in with. Then again, that might change. Some of the gear Id bought was going to generate some small trickle of points as long as the city kept up its defences. In any case, that was a worry for later. So, whore your friends? I asked. Oh, right, Crackshot said. This is Shiverin. He gestured to the small woman standing next to him. She blinked, raised a hand, then waved, all with quick, jerky motions that came off as extremely nervous, like she was some sort of human chihuahua. This is Rod. He gestured to the chick in the racing outfit who nodded once. And thats Hairy. Hairy smiled at me, and I decided to studiously ignore him. Well, welcome to Burlington, I said. Things have been... all over the place, honestly, but overall, not that bad. Is one of you the underwater specialist? I asked. I got four head shakes there. Family mentioned that someone called Drowning Man was heading over from the other end of the great lakes. Supposed to be here tonight or tomorrow morning, Crackshot said. Thatll do it. Theyll have their work cut out for them. Theres a fuck-huge hive in the lake. What do you guys know about the situation here? And are you four... taking over from here, or am I just getting my hopes up for some time off? Crackshot rubbed at the back of his neck. Well, were supposed to be under Drowning Mans command. I think hes coming over with his own team to take over from there. Dont know how the handoffs supposed to work though. The battalion heres all Family-related folk. I could feel a fresh headache coming on already, and part of me could already picture what was going to happen. Good news all around. I brought the mech to a stop in front of the mall and climbed out of it, this time being a whole lot more careful while unplugging myself from the mechs control system. Surprisingly, doing things the right way didnt lead to sudden massive headaches, which was nice to know. By the time I dismounted, Lucy had come down and was waiting for me by the entrance. Cat! she cheered. Instantly, all of the sour thoughts Id been having were wiped away, and I found myself smiling like a moron. Hey, I said as I jumped off the side of the mech. Look, I got a warmech! I said while unclasping my helmet and removing it. Lucy laughed as she pulled me into a hug. You did. And its already messy and covered in dents. If I ever buy a car, youre not allowed to drive it. I scoffed. And here I was going to let you ride my giant cat mech, I said. If I want to ride a Cat, then I have plenty of options, she purred, and my smile turned from moronic to goofy for a moment. How did things go? Not bad, I said. Bunch of Family troops just arrived. Our reinforcements. Arent they early? she asked. Maybe, but I wont let them know it, I said before stealing a kiss. Hey, I was thinking, maybe we could head home? Right now? she asked. I nodded. Sure, why not? Lucy laughed. Why not? Cat... It was her turn to steal a quick kiss. You cant just drop a heap of responsibility on a girls lap, then ask her to run off into the sunset with you right after. At least give me a few hours to make sure the Kittens here will be fine? Ah, yeah, I guess that makes sense. She grinned. Youre the best. But youd be even better if you lent me Myalis to help with all of this paperwork. Im afraid you cant lend me to anyone. On the other hand, if you help her yourself, I can assist you in assisting her. Which meant doing some of the paperwork myself. The shit I did for Lucy. Unbelievable. *** Stray Cat Strut - Book Six - A Young Ladys Guide to Taking Uncivil Liberties Stray Cat Strut - Book Six - A Young Lady''s Guide to Taking Uncivil Liberties Cat is on vacation. Then Cat stumbles upon Raccoon''s illicit job as a freelancer in the murky underbelly of their dystopian city, she plunges headfirst into a world of high-risk heists, corporate intrigue, and unscrupulous transactions. This city, she finds, is a ticking time bomb of chaos and despair. When she learns that the re-elected mayor, the man who should be fixing the city, is proving himself a scumbag yet again, and the city''s ancient sewer system has finally shat the bed, her patience wears thin. Worse, the relief goods meant to help the city''s desperate citizens have mysteriously disappeared. But Cat is on vacation. Chapter One - Staring Chapter One - Staring Chapter One - Staring Let sleeping tigers lie. --Cooler Versions of Shitty Old Proverbs, fifth edition, 2057 *** Hey, bot, pass me the clickity thing, I said with a gesture towards the repair drone. The drone was hovering there, silent and unmoving, though I knew it had some sort of propeller thing going on because there was a constant wash of warm air coming out from its bottom. Id purchased it when I picked up my newest hobby. Technically, this thing could get my mech up and running in a fraction of the time it took me to do it. Also, it wouldnt mess up the repairs and break even more stuff while doing it. It had the schematics for the mech in its little robot head, and could fix nearly anything wrong with it, especially with access to my matter fabricator to make parts. But that would rob me of all my fun. The drone passed me a tool--was it called a ratchet?--and I leaned into the mech and slotted it over a small bolt. I hadnt jumped into this new hobby entirely unprepared. Id bought a cheap bit of software from Myalis that gave me step-by-step instructions on how to fix this particular mech. It was telling me what to undo and where, and which part needed replacing. It was kind of like a big three-dimensional puzzle, but one put together by a mad scientist whod just taken a fat snort of cocaine before they got creative. Every part of the mech was small and intricate and linked to others so that replacing one piece required that I take apart a dozen more. I was positive that it was built this way to make sure it was as strong as possible or something. It also made it insanely fucking annoying to fix. You know, when most people pick up a new hobby, they generally start themselves off easily, then work up to harder challenges. Cowards, I dismissed, mostly because I knew it would bother Myalis. Maybe you should work on something more your speed? Like a Jenga tower? That would have mechanical properties that even you can understand. I laughed. Low blow, I said. I chewed on my lip while flicking the ratchet around, and then the bolt Id been working on came free and the part I wanted to replace fell... right in between the armoured plates of the mech. It clinked and clanked on its way down, and I just stared into the dark crack where it had gone. Fuck, I said. Im adding to the total projected time until the warmech is repaired once more. A little counter that had been gently dropping as I worked flickered, and the 36 days climbed up to 39. You really dont have any faith in me, do you? I asked. I do have faith in you, Catherine. Im mostly teasing you to keep your mood up. Youre unusually motivated by antagonism, even of the more friendly variety. But I do think that, if you set your mind to it, youll master this in due time. I felt myself flushing a bit, then shook my head. Nevermind that. Hey, repair drone, fetch that part, would you? Well, well, I said. Not only had she bought the gun, shed gotten ammo for it, multiple times across a few days. There were a few other things. Some guns, a few prosthetics, but nothing insane. I let out a long winded sigh. I need to look into this, dont I? I asked. Lucy shifted closer to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. Its fine, she said. Besides, I can take care of a few of your projects... if you promise not to add too many more to my plate. Projects? I asked. You were helping someone become mayor, you promised to set up a free-or-nearly-free prosthetics clinic, you still need to do something about the Sewer Dragons... I think Im forgetting a few loose ends, Lucy said. Oh, I said. Didnt you want to avoid touching me? Im greasy. She shrugged. We have very nice showers. I considered things for a moment, then let out a groan and melted into Lucy. Fine. Ill be moderately responsible, I said. Lucy laughed. How about you do things at a reasonable pace? One problem a day? I think some of these things are more than a one-day issue, I said. You know, Myalis can serve as a glorified agenda, Lucy said. Myalis, make sure she has at least half a day off. Cats technically on vacation. And how is she going to find time for her new hobby if shes running around all day long? Duly noted. I frowned. Lucy, stop telling Myalis what to do. Shes my extraordinarily overpowered bullshit AI. Youre only supposed to use her to annoy me and for kinky stuff. Id really rather not. Lucy gave me a peck on the cheek, the cleaner one. If I feel like it, she said, which could have meant anything. Right... wheres Rac now? I asked. Myalis helpfully let me spy on our friend by giving me her real-time location. She was a few blocks over, taking a public tram across the city. I should go check on her, I said. Person-to-person, you know? After you take a shower, Lucy said. Then she smiled. Ill clean your back if you do mine? Well, I could hardly refuse that. *** Chapter Two - Like a Raccoon to a Trashbag Chapter Two - Like a Raccoon to a Trashbag Chapter Two - Like a Raccoon to a Trashbag The population distribution in modern cities means that something like forty percent of all inhabitants of a city live in a megabuilding. These are not to be confused with more traditional apartment buildings or megacondos (wherein each housing unit and the building as a whole is owned in part by its tenants). Megabuildings are micro-cities, semi-enclosed environments with their own cultures, beliefs, companies, and sometimes even currencies. There have been recordings of megabuilding inhabitants going to war with other nearby structures, and of massive cultural clashes. Most of all, however, megabuildings are profitable for those who own them. --The Mega, An Exploration of Megabuilding Culture in New York, Detroit, California, and elsewhere in the NA Region, 2046 *** I stretched my back as I walked into the bedroom, hands on my hips and spine twisted backwards until something popped into place and I let out a long sigh. Showers were nice. Right, so wheres Rac now? I asked. New Montreal Centre. She just got off the public transportation network. Damn, and last time I checked was nearly an hour ago. Id almost forgotten how incredibly shit the public network was. But it was also cheap as hell and could get someone nearly anywhere within the lower city. I picked up some underwear from the floor and started getting dressed. So, if Im gonna go pay her a visit, think I should go in casual? I wouldnt, Lucy said as she walked in after me. She was dressed already, with a big towel wrapped around her head. But maybe you dont need to go in with power armour either. Yeah, that might be overkill, I agreed. So I found my skintight armoured suit and slipped it on. Fortunately, it was bullshit alien tech, and the material could expand and contract a little, so I wasnt caught bouncing on the spot trying to get it to fit like too-tight jeans. The suit was supposed to be able to absorb a fair bit of damage, so it would do for a little walk around town. Plus I had my jacket laying around, which was a bit better armoured. Wheres my helmet? I muttered as I looked around. Lucy snorted, but she bent down and used her foot to kick my helmet out from under the bed. It didnt roll far, what with the catears atop it, making it a bit too unshapely to roll. Here, on the lower, ground levels, the ads were more straightforward. I parked on the same level Rac was on, letting my bike land on the sidewalk of a multi-levelled highway next to a repeating Gif of an animated woman giving a man head. The text Want Fuck? glowed bright next to me. Parking there was probably some sort of violation. Actually, it was definitely some sort of violation, but I was pretty much certain I wasnt gonna get in trouble, so I decided not to give a shit. Myalis updated my map, turning it into a more three-dimensional representation of the area, which was needed. Rac was currently riding an elevator up a building called HOUSE-FOUR-THREE, a massive brick of a building, with the exterior painted in dull greys except for the billboards covering its surface and the thousands of air conditioning vents poking out of its sides. It was the kind of place that I might have expected to live in, once. Ten thousand miniature apartments, all jam-packed together, with a few floors in the middle connecting to the maze of buildings around it and a few stores and shops tucked within so that anyone living in one of these never had to leave the building. Id heard stories of people being born, raised, and dying in a single megabuilding without ever stepping foot outside. The doorway into the building pinged my augs, asked me for my age, date of birth, official name, gender(s), marital status, and credit card information, then its rudimentary software bumped into Myalis and it shrivelled up and slammed the doors open. The interior was nothing but beige walls and graffiti. Judging by the scrawl, there were at least two gangs in this building competing for turf. Paint was caked onto paint, one gang gleefully defacing the mark of the other only for the same to happen to them in turn. My ability to read street signs was a bit rusty, but it looked like one gang was made up for Karens, and the other was a younger group of native French, at least judging by all the tabarnacs I was passing. What kind of shithole was Rac spending time in? Which floor is she heading to? I asked. Shes heading to floor 14. But she will then need to take another elevator down to B2 in order to reach the club. That elevator leads up to the floor youre on. I can override it with ease. I nodded. Yeah, that seems nice, I said. I pushed deeper into the building, past a few tweakers and some folk shuffling along until I came to an elevator bank some ways in. I stood there, arms crossed and legs set while the tiny icon representing Rac rose and rose until, finally, the doors opened before me and I came face-to-face with the girl herself. She was standing in the back of the elevator, eyes glazed over for a moment before she blinked her augs off and took me in. Heya, Rac! I said. *** Interlude - A Roaming Raccoons Reasonable Relationships [Part One] Interlude - A Roaming Raccoon''s Reasonable Relationships [Part One] Interlude - A Roaming Raccoon''s Reasonable Relationships [Part One] Heya, Rac! Cat said. Rac stared at the woman with growing horror. She found her breath catching in her throat, and her mouth filled with the electric tang of adrenaline, like licking a battery, but across her entire body and all at once. But then she hid it with a grin. Rac was an expert at not letting anyone know what she was thinking. The barrier had to stay up, because when it went down, bad things happened. When she lived in the undercity it was a daily requirement. Never let anyone know how sick you were, how close you were to breaking. Maybe shed gotten a little soft in the last week. Life had gotten better. A lot better. She wasnt even sure if it was entirely real yet, and Cats appearance right here and now might be the dream turning to a nightmare. But no. Shed long ago learned to operate past that kind of thing. Self-delusion wasnt a weakness of hers. Hey, she said. Whatre you doing here? Rac eyed Cat up and down real quick. The older girl was... strange. Unique, maybe? She wasnt sure what to think of Cat half the time. Which she supposed was normal, in its own way. Samurai were supposed to be strange, so it would be weirder if Cat wasnt bizarre. Right now, Cat was in a skintight suit that reminded Rac of netrunner gear, with a heavy trench coat atop that and her neon-pink scarf around her neck. And the cat ears, of course. Hell, Cat barely looked like a samurai at the moment. Some of the better-off, more experienced punks had similar gear. Not the streetpunks like Rac, but the bigger players. Cat smiled, all teeth and eyes that squinted. Cats grins were always lopsided, the burnt side of her face never quite moving right. Why Rac, why cant it be a coincidence that we happen to meet in some elevator in a shithole mega-apartment about a quarter ways into the city? Racs grin didnt waver, she even chuckled a little, but she could feel the sweat starting to cling to her back and armpits and palms. The backpack she was wearing felt ten times as heavy. Yeah, funny that way, Rac said. She knew the charade would end soon, and then shit would get real, but every minute she kept playing along was one more minute where she stayed alive. Those were the rules, usually. Then Cat, because she was Cat, decided to change the script and toss the rules out on their ass. Her smile grew less sharp, her ears turned forwards and up a little, as if they were entirely natural ears instead of very high-end prosthetics. She stepped into the elevator then leaned against one of the walls, boots crossing at the ankles. Alright, look. Im not angry. Im not even disappointed, Cat said. Im mostly curious. Cat crossed one arm across her chest, the other was left limp by her side, forgotten. Rac worked her jaw, not meeting Cats eyes. Cat was... fuck, Rac didnt know where to start with Cat. Her and Gomorrah too. Rac was a nobody, of the sort whose corpse someone would stumble over some day. She was beyond just inconsequential, and the world knew it. Then two samurai waltzed by, broke all the rules, and decided to give Rac more than she could ever hope to have. Rac wasnt going to wax philosophical about it or anything. When shit went bad, she worked through it. Thats how shed made it so far. When shit got good? Like really, really good? Like working for a samurai, like living in a penthouse? Like three fat meals a day and a nice gig? Rac wasnt prepared for that. She... kinda liked the work, like the idiots she was working with. But Cats word was the rules. Cat tilted her head to the side, then she smiled. Ill come with you, she said. What? Rac asked. That hadnt been the reply she was expecting. Yeah, it sounds fun. Besides, Im on vacation. What sort of gig is it? Security again? Because if its actually too boring I might dip. Rac swallowed. You cant come, she said. Why not? Cat asked. Rac was stumped. Why not? She had about a million reasons why not, but her lips went ahead and said the stupidest one before her brain caught up. Youll embarrass me. Cat stared. Ill what? Uh, Rac said. Wait, do you think Im not cool? Cat asked. Rac had never seen her so offended before. It was kind of scary. Shed once seen Cat hang a guy by the neck over a bottomless pit only to drop him, and even then shed done little more than shrug and grab the next guy. Even then Cat didnt seem as annoyed as she did right here. No, no, youre plenty cool, Rac said. Cats mouth worked. Holy fuck, you dont think Im cool. What the hell, Rac? Im plenty cool. Yeah, super cool. Ive got like... guns, and a cool trench coat. And I have a giant fucking mecha. The mecha was kinda cool, Rac admitted. Yeah, youre cool, she said. Damnit, Rac, stop rubbing it in. Cat ran her fingers through her own hair. Unbelievable. Myalis, do you think Im cool? And there she went, talking to her AI as if the AI was just... there in the elevator with them. It was super unnerving. Well, screw you, I bet youre not cool at all, Cat said. It took a moment for Rac to realise she was directing that to Myalis too. She snorted, then the elevator thumped and started to move. Right, lets go see these friends of yours. You can present them to your entirely very cool big sister Cat. Rac felt her heart drop. There was no way Cat would be able to pass herself off as just a normal merc. The first time someone insulted her shed blow their brains out and then... well, actually, that would be somewhat normal merc behaviour. Maybe this wouldnt be all that bad? *** Interlude - A Roaming Raccoons Reasonable Relationships [Part Two] Interlude - A Roaming Raccoon''s Reasonable Relationships [Part Two] Interlude - A Roaming Raccoon''s Reasonable Relationships [Part Two] Rac tried to look confident as she walked. Before, in the gutters and the undercity, she had to make herself small, inconspicuous and unimportant, like the racoons shed been named after. There, but not important enough to bother with. Up here, heading to the Barber Shop, the attitude was different. She had to look like she belonged. Youre going to need some sort of ID to get past the bouncer, she said. Hes this big full-borg guy who doesnt fuck around. Cat shrugged. I could take him, she said. She hadnt even seen Molotov as she said she could take him. Then again... Cat could take him, and that wasnt something Rac wanted. No. Hes actually kinda nice? But hell sound the alarm if he thinks youre corpo or a samurai. Cat grunted. Howd you get in? I doubt they carded you. Im a merc, Rac said. Once I had my status fixed, he let me in no problem. You need someone to vouch for you to become a merc though. Could probably fake it, Cat said. Then she frowned. Really? Huh. Well, thats actually kind of clever.Fo?ll0w current novE?ls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m) Rac pursed her lips and half-turned to look at Cat. What is? Right, Mercs mostly use paper. Easier to destroy, and not something Myalis can just break into. So, that ideas out. Rac nodded along. Maybe... I think you could get in just like a normal person going to the bar, but not if youre with me. Maybe if you try to pass yourself off as a specialist? For like, a job? What sort of specialist? An infiltrator? A sort of cyberninja? Oh, I can totally use Myalis to pass myself off as a meshrunner, no problem. Or some sort of front-line alien killing badass. Im pretty decent with bombs too. And stealth. Uh-huh, Rac agreed. Cat probably could get away with all of that, but it wasnt the kind of shit that an actual merc did. Well, maybe some of them, but the average merc like Rac did work that was a lot less complicated. Her last few jobs had been standing around looking tough, or helping someone load up some crap into the back of a van in a hurry, or escorting someone through a rough part of the city. Cat was a Samurai, she was doing the kind of crap that legends did all the time, but most of the people in New Montreal were as far from legends as they could be. She heard the Barber Shop before she could see it. A low, distant thrum of bass-boosted swing music from last century and a faint stink to the air that was unique to this one level of the megabuilding. It was piss (which wasnt unique) but also booze-filled vomit and sweat and cigarette smoke. Millennium caught sight of her and waved even as the mask he wore twisted to give the impression of a smile. Little Racoon, youre right on time. And you brought a friend too. Nice ears, maam. Thanks, Cat bit out. Im Racs... big sister, of sorts. She walked right up to Millennium and stared him down, ignoring Racs quick and aborted attempt to gesture for her not to do that. Millennium was big in the Barber Shop. Hed been here since forever ago, and while he was definitely... weird, he had one of the best reputations for troubleshooting in New Montreal. A lot of people didnt pick him for jobs, mostly because he kept things on a smaller scale, but he also refused a lot of clients. He also almost exclusively picked which mercs he was going to work with. It was practically a fluke that shed gotten in with his current crew of low-tier mercs, and that was only because of her name. And right now, Cat was glaring at him as if he was some double-digit alien threatening to eat a baby. Millennium took it in stride. Im afraid I didnt catch your name? Im Millennium Animal. Its a pleasure to meet you, especially seeing as how you seem to care so much for our dear Raccoon here. Cats anger subsided a little, and she glanced at his hand for a moment before shaking it. Rac sighed. She wasnt about to shoot her boss. Call me Cat, Cat said. And Im not a furry. As you wish, he said with a shrug. A lot of us would rather identify with the animal within, rather than with the community without, and thats perfectly acceptable as well. In any case, how can I help you? Cat seemed to be caught flat-footed for a moment before she shook her head. Look, I just discovered Rac was doing... something with you, and I was worried. I wanna see what youre all about. Make sure its on the up-and-up. Millennium laughed. Its anything but that. And its not entirely safe either. But... I run a good crew, and I pick my jobs. The price isnt the best, but the work is as safe as it can be. He shrugged again, and somehow his ears and tail moved in such a way that he looked way more innocent than Rac knew he was. As we used to say when I was young, it is what it is. Now come, sit. Todays job is nothing complicated, and if youre as comfortable with that handgun as you look, then maybe youll want to sit in on it? I wouldnt mind that, Cat said. Rac held in a groan. Not only did she have to introduce Cat to her friends, now Cat would be babysitting her on a job. Cant see why youd want me on a job though, you dont know me at all, Cat pointed out. Free labour is free labour, Millennium pointed out with a fox-like bark. I dont look gift horses, or cats, in the mouth. Now come, Ill show you to Raccoons friends, and you can determine on your own that she isnt so unsafe. *** Chapter Three - Strange Animals Chapter Three - Strange Animals Chapter Three - Strange Animals No one wants a career! Do you think you want to work for the same bosspunk for 30 years of your life? Gigs are the way to go! Work for more credits, work when you want, if you want! And the day your boss steps on your toes? Youre off to the next gig! --Gigs-R-Us ad, 2031 *** I wasnt sure if I liked the Barber Shop. The music was weird as hell, and while the chick with the fox tails had a killer voice, I could still pick out the synth notes when she started to croon. I suppose that was one of the downsides of having really good cybernetic ears. Plus, the place had too many people wearing too much faux-fur for me to be comfortable. And Rac thought I wasnt cool? What the hell? At least I wasnt wearing fur. Im sensing that you dislike the aesthetic. Mhm, I muttered. Rac glanced up at me, and I waved her concern off. Show me to your friends, Rac. Ill try not to be too uncool around them. It probably shouldnt have bothered me so much, but it did anyway. Maybe my ego was a little more fragile than Id like to admit. But... well, fuck it. It wasnt cool to be so worried about what others thought about you anyway, so I made an effort to let it go. Its just that I thought, for some reason, that at least in Racs eyes I was the badass older sister she never had who could solve all of her problems by blowing them up. I guess I wasnt quite there, though. Sucked, but thats what it was... at least for now. There was still time to impress the brat, even if it really, really didnt matter. Dont be weird around them, Rac said. I wont be weird, I growled. Have some faith in me. That would be misplacing her faith. Oh, shut up, you, I muttered. Rac gave me another look, but I ignored it. Myalis was being extra sassy right now, probably because she knew that this was embarrassing for me, and she knew that I knew that it was silly to be embarrassed about it to begin with. She loved this kind of circular thing. Rac led me to a booth some ways into the bar-slash-club, where the music from the dance floor wasnt quite as loud. There was a wall cutting off some of the noise, and a row of fake plants along the other walls partially hiding some of those foam sound buffer things that cut off vibrations. The booth Rac led me to had two people sitting at it already. One was a massive woman with a plastic half-mask on her face that made her look like a gorilla. The look was only improved by her arms and upper back. It looked like shed had some pretty extensive cybernetic work done on her. Her shoulders were huge to compensate for the size of her arms, which were also massive. They ended in hands that looked like they could crush melons with no effort. Or a persons head. That case, you might want to let Jerusalem connect you to our network. We use it for coms. And he uses it to send text-messages to the lot of us. Im assuming youre literate? she asked. I can manage, I said. I glanced over as a guy walked over to our table. I didnt lean that way, but even I could tell he was an objectively handsome man. He had that model chin and wavy blond hair, curled up at the front in a messy-but-not sorta way. He was otherwise pretty nondescript, especially for a place like this. The only animal feature was maybe his jacket, which was all snakeskin. He was carrying a metal tray which he set down on the table before us. Banana smoothie, for the walking stereotype, bourbon on rocks for the spider, root-beers for the Raccoon and her gorgeous friend, and a little something for me, he said as he placed down drinks in front of each of us. Mine looked like a lump of soft serve on top of some soda. Root beer, I supposed. Youre almost late, Coco said as she accepted hers. Almost isnt, he replied. I took it that this was Garter. So, Raccoon, whos the friend? This is Cat, my big sister of sorts, Raccoon said. She smiled, and I noticed a hint of red spreading across her cheeks as she accepted the float. I glanced between her and Garter, who sat down across from us on the other end of the booth, one leg folded up casually while he swirled something dark in a small tumbler cup. Well, any friend of Raccoons a friend of mine, he said with a wink. Ah. Right, I was putting two and two together here and reaching four. Was Racoon afraid Id make her look bad in front of this guy specifically? I was glad I kept that app open. M, how old is this guy? Garter, AKA Garfield Lebeau, twenty-seven years old, currently marked as unemployed, but clearly works as a freelance mercenary. I can dig deeper, if you want? Way too old for Rac to have any sort of interest in. Then again... he was about the right age to be in a boy band, and plenty of girls had crushes on those. If this was even a crush. It could be nothing, or maybe Id need to have a very serious shotgun talk with this guy before I painted the walls with his brains and figure out a way to console Rac for the loss. Wow, thats a look, Garter said as he looked at me. So, Millennium Animal said that you might be coming with us on our next gig? Yeah, I said. Was this the third time Id been asked that? If you dont mind me coming along. I just want to see if Racs kept safe. Thats fair, he said with a nod as he took a sip from his glass. Well, in that case, maybe I could go over the gig? That had all the others sitting up straighter. Its a three-hour job. Some kids from a sub-level two gang discovered a corpo warehouse, and want to empty it out. Problem is, they figure they cant do it themselves. So were going in to do the hard part for them. We go in, break down the security on the place, then let the kids grab anything they can. Maybe we help them load up. Jerusalem made some gestures that Garter seemed to get. Nah, were paid a fixed rate. Ten-k credits each. Flat. That wasnt all that bad of a payday for a three-hour long job, I figured. More than anyone would make working a register. The others didnt seem to agree. I know, its low, but its also low-risk and easy work. Its that or we burn credits instead sitting here. So... we in? *** Chapter Four - Back to Cat Chapter Four - Back to Cat Chapter Four - Back to Cat - This quarters going to be the first where our profits arent increasing. - You mean were losing money? - No, I meant that our profit margin isnt going to be bigger this quarter than it was in the last one. Were still in the black. - Thats unacceptable. How am I going to explain to the shareholders that were making less profit? - Were still making billions. - Yes, but were making less billions than we were before, and thats not going to fly. Figure something out. Private anonymised discussion on the Nimbletainment C-Suite Chat, 2057 *** Is this how it usually goes down? I asked Rac as the two of us followed her... I suppose they were work friends.Finnd new chapters at novelhall.com The crew didnt waste much time once Garter had laid out the mission. We all just got up and got going. I wasnt sure where we were going, exactly, but the others seemed to know. We pushed through a door at the back of the Barber Shop and into a service corridor lined with cubicles and stacks of boxes. It was a lot less glamorous than the main section of the bar, but the music still carried in here. Yeah, Rac replied. Most of the time the jobs are pretty cut-and-dry. Go somewhere, scare someone. Steal something from a corp. Stand around and look scary. Sometimes we escort stuff. She shrugged. Its alright work. Mostly its good because its fast. Half a day, a few hours. That made some sense, I supposed. Rac was often back home, so whatever work she was doing here had to be quick. Raccoon hasnt come on any real dangerous jobs, Coco said as she glanced back at me. The woman was a good half-foot taller than I was, and a whole lot broader at the shoulders. But we dont usually take on jobs that are that bad. Mostly because no one wants to take the risk, Garter complained. Even if thats where all the good moneys at. Jerusalems hand twitched, then he looked my way and tilted his head to the side. Jerusalem has sent you a link to a limited party chat. It seems like its what the team uses to communicate. Specifically with Jerusalem himself. So hed text into the team chat? Yeah, that made some sense. Gimme a sec, I told him. If this chats safe, Ill join it. Nothing will get past me. I opened the chat, shifted it to the corner of my vision so that it wouldnt be too annoying, then adjusted its opacity until it was only barely visible. Got it, I said. Probably just under the city. I imagined there had to be a pile of lost trash down there tall enough to be a mountain by now. Maybe someone tossed something flammable down every so often, to burn some of it down. Theres my baby, Coco said as she moved over to an old minivan parked halfway off the edge of the balcony. It looked like it was just barely hanging on there. Cocos eyes flashed and the hovercar rumbled to life, the sliding door on its side screeching open even as she popped the driver side door open and climbed into an extra-wide seat. Get in, Garter said as he hopped in himself. The back of the van had a couch along one side, and a couple of fold-out seats near the back. There were also some suspicious looking crates and the back of the passenger side seat had a gun rack welded to it. Jerusalem slipped to the front, sitting next to Coco with his knees folded up to his chest, and I found a place on the couch next to Rac while Garter slammed one of the unfolding seats down and then kicked the door closed. Right, jobs on sub-two, under Nimbletainment Six, Garter said. Is that the corp were hitting? I asked. Nah. NBs big, this is some numbers-company. Not that Id look too deeply into it, he said. I, however, have looked into it. The job was given to Millenium Animal from a self-proclaimed gangster. The warehouse in question is being rented by a corporation whose name is a series of numbers. Its owned by another numbers corporation, which is in turn owned by a conglomerate. But digging deeper, the line of ownership ends at a Nimbletainment subsidiary. It seems like its mostly a corporation set up to provide deniable resources to undisclosed projects. So, what are we going after? I asked. We dont want to know, Garter said. Experimental smart ammunition. Coco lifted us off, and instead of climbing like I expected, we dropped. The van had some lights on the front which flicked on and illuminated the interior of the tunnel as we descended. Jobs about as simple as it gets, Garter said. We rock up to the warehouse, Jerusalem disables their security, Coco breaks the door, and then we let our local pals rob the place blind. What about corpo security? I asked. Barely any out and about right now, Garter said. Most of them were moved to keep corpo assets safe from the aliens. Its the only advantage we have right now in all of this incursion shit. Good thing too, Coco said. Cost of ammo tripled. Fuel costs have skyrocketed too. Its getting hard to be an indie merc right now. Garter shrugged in an easy what can you do kind of way. At least with so many mercs working for corps right now, its easier than ever to get your rep up. Once everything cools down well be the top of the top, you know? Uh-huh, I said. This wasnt the experience I was expecting it to be, but it was interesting all the same, and I was already along for the ride. *** Chapter Five - Funny Business Chapter Five - Funny Business Chapter Five - Funny Business Security, good security, is all about obscurity. If the enemy doesnt know, then whatever you want to keep secured is at its most secure. After lack of knowledge comes obfuscation, then misinformation, then, after all that, comes physical security. --A Guards Guide to CorpoSec, 2031 *** We dropped out under the city and right into that dark, cavernous world beneath the megabuildings, where massive pillars held the city in place and where the only light came as small glows from the holes above or from flashing red warning lights. Coco leaned forward, and Jerusalem reached up, flicking off the cabin light, as if that little bit less light would make us that much less noticeable. Fortunately, we didnt go far. Coco turned the van around and we started to rise. Sub-two, she said as we crossed up past a large wall painted with the letters S3 and into another section with S2 stencilled on it. Going to find a place to park, or do you want us right at the door? she asked. Garter licked his lips. Right up to the door. The street kids will be waiting near already. Should be clear. Coco nodded, and the van came to a hovering stop before a grated metal door. Jerusalem leaned back in his seat, pulled out a wire from around his neck, then plugged it into a small device with a couple of blinking lights. The lights flickered, then the grate started to rise, opening up into a long corridor wide enough for a pair of trucks to slip past each other, if only barely. Cocos van touched down, and we continued to roll forwards, the hover engine humming to a stop. I hate these places, she said as we rode down a tunnel lit only every twenty metres or so by some recessed lights above. No one likes these, Rac said. Theyre dangerous. Whys that? I asked. Corpo routes, she said. They carry corpo cargo. They sweep through these tunnels every so often. If youre caught in them, youre either gunned down, or worse, cleaned up. Cleaned up? I asked. Trucks that spray acid on everything, to sanitise things, Rac explained. Itll melt your clothes to your skin. Then itll just melt your skin. Polyesters and plastics and hair, Garter said. Real materials, leathers and the like, are fine. Metals too. Theyll burn your eyes right out. And the waters hot. Very hot. But dont worry. Street kids wouldnt be here if they knew a clean truck was coming by. And besides, were in a van, were fine. Uh-huh, I said. Myalis helpfully added the tunnel to my map, then highlighted the entire network while zooming out. It travelled across the entirety of the city, a spiderweb of passages just under the citys skyscrapers. Or... no, it was in the spaces between them. Were the tunnels built into the seams between the plates of the city? Weird. The van turned a corner, and Garter jumped up and grabbed onto the seat behind Coco. Thats them, he said. I looked over his shoulder as well, a hand pressing to the ceiling to stay up. There were several small hoverbikes parked ahead, a few of them with trailers, and a single van not too dissimilar to Cocos, if a bit rustier. Accompanying those were about a dozen punks. Rac set her gun down and tugged a much bigger mask from her backpack, a proper full-face thing which looked very cold-warish. I sent a quick text to Myalis. Mask? One moment, Ill get you something cheap but functional. Its in your right-side pocket, and youre down fifteen points. I reached into my pocket and felt something rubbery and hard in there. Pulling it out revealed... a mask. Though the front of it was moulded to look like a cats nose, and it had teeny-tiny whiskers. I rolled my eyes as I pressed it in place and the mask sucked onto my face then held. It was clearly designed to fit perfectly onto my face, even as I wiggled my nose and jaw. Hey! Garter called back to the street kids. Got deterrent gas. Mask up or shut up. That sent Spike-face and his less-spikey friends scurrying for masks of their own. Is this normal? I asked. Garter glanced at me, then stared at my mask for a moment. So-so. Just typical corpo shit, he said. The door was fully opened by then, and I couldnt see any signs of any sort of gas, just a decently sized room, with a loading bay at the back and another garage door at about the right height for a truck to back into. Anything? Garter asked Jerusalem. The man shook his head, then stepped into the room. We followed. Myalis, I muttered real low. Whats the gas? Im detecting nothing. The air is slightly stale, and there are trace particulates, but fewer than what youd find on street-level. Then what the hell was all of that about? Then I glanced over to the street kids, cowering away while we walked in like big damned heroes and I caught on. Garter was putting on a show. The clever little bastard, he was making sure that the client felt like his crew earned their cost. Jerusalem was the first to the door, checking it up and down and obviously looking for something that he didnt find. Spider: Cant find anything Spider: Looks like a new door Spider: No exterior way to open it. Going to need to do things the old fashioned way, then, Coco said. Everyone ran to the side, and Coco rammed her fingers into and through the sheet metal of the door. Then she grunted, and the entire thing crumpled in the middle. Raccoon, get in there, Garter said. I tensed up, but then Raccoon tossed me her rifle and I caught it out of the air while she dropped to all fours and scurried under the door before I could protest. *** Chapter Six - Fine Little Fighter Chapter Six - Fine Little Fighter Chapter Six - Fine Little Fighter Robotics and automation go hand in hand with the growth of artificial intelligence. If a company can replace most of its white-collar workers with a few AI and AI services, then why shouldnt it do the same with its blue-collar force? So the entire field of robotics, once lagging behind, suddenly gained the attention and budget it needed to supplant humanity. --The Electronic Workforce, a report on digital and mechanical automation, 2025 *** Rac was a big girl who could take care of herself. She didnt need me. Shed lived most of her life without me, and in some pretty awful conditions at that. So it was stupid of me to worry. But I did anyway. I was tense, Trenchmaker in hand, primed to run and gun at a moments notice. Which was probably why I jumped when Coco tapped my shoulder. Shell be fine, the big woman said. Raccoon might be new to all of this, but shes a damned fine little fighter. Good merc, Garter agreed. I gave him a look and Garter glanced around, as if searching for the reason I gave him exactly that kind of look in the first place. Yeah, shes a good kid, I said. Emphasis on kid, though. I dont know what kind of stuff you guys do most of the time, but if this is an easy job for you, then your normal cant be all that safe. Racs... Racs her own woman, even if she isnt one yet. Im not gonna tell her what to do, or who to hang out with, but I will break fingers and blow out kneecaps if things go wrong. Spider: Scary. Spider: So, whats your story? Spider: You dont smell corpo. I snorted. Im not corpo, I said. Thats what corpo says, Coco replied, but she did it with a laugh. Focus, boy and girls, Garter muttered just as Rac slid back out from under the dented gate. What did you see? Rac sat on the ground, looking just a little flushed. She adjusted her full-face mask before she spoke. Its a loading room. Not much there. Some crates and stuff. But it looks like theres a few storage rooms. Big metal doors with electronic locks. Nothing too bad, Garter said. Did you see how to open the door, or will we have to crawl through? Yeah, theres a button, Rac said. But theres also a bot. Garter swore under his breath, and I saw his stance shift, getting ready to fight. What kind? Rac shrugged. I took pics, she said before glancing at Jerusalem. The teams hacker paused for a long moment, head tilting to the side as if in thought, then he nodded and I got a ping from him. An image. An image taken with a shitty, lower rez camera. Racs eye augs? Id never checked, but I imagined they werent top quality. Probably something after-aftermarket. Still, the image was understandable. It was a wide shot, several all-metal double doors, maybe made of stainless or something, then in the shadowy corner, a big shape, like a trash can turned upside down. No more security? I asked. Not that I can detect. The bot was also offline to begin with. I sighed, but kept my thoughts to myself. Would Myalis have warned me if it wasnt the case? Should I have asked... I should definitely have asked. Fuck. Jerusalem, keep an eye out for more sec, Garter said. Lets check the rooms, one at a time. Keep an eye out for more bots, and ceiling-mounted guns. We checked the rooms. Or rather, the team did. They had a method for it, opening the door, then scanning everything within before moving in. It was slow, but it was careful. It took a good ten minutes to scan everything, and by the end, the piercing enthusiasts were chomping by the bit outside to get in. Theyd found some paper masks to cover themselves up, which really ruined the whole lots of spikes vibes. Is it clear? Spikey face asked. Its clear, Garter replied, stowing his handgun away, which seemed to be the signal for the others to do the same. Come and get your stuff. Our parts done. Jerusalem, think you can do anything with that bot? He gestured to the corner where the bot was. It had four holes that I could fit a hand through on one side, and the other side was an exploded mess of tangled metal and melted plastics. The interior had caught fire at some point, or maybe that was the plasma rounds doing their thing. In any case, the machine was properly fucked. Jerusalem glanced at the bot, then shook his head. Spider: Battery might be worth something. But Its heavy and I dont have the tools to extract it. Yeah, nevermind, Garter said. I dont wanna waste half an hour down here for a few thousand credits that well have to split. Lets get going everyone. The street kids started moving in and out of the warehouse, carrying crates with them in teams. But we just... left. Back to Cocos van, which she started up right away, and then we did a three-point turn and started heading out. That was it? I asked. Like I said, easy job, Garter said. You know, you didnt carry yourself that badly. Not a pro, but not bad. Might be some hope to get you as a merc. If youre looking for that kind of work, that is. Ah, no thanks, I said. My kind of work is usually... different from all of this. Well, not that different, but different. Mysterious, Coco said. I snorted. Im usually shooting a lot more things and more stuff is trying to eat me. Ah, youre a cleaner, Garter said. You work for a PMC? Something like that, I said with a dismissive wave. This whole thing was weird. And... yeah, these guys werent so bad. Clean and efficient and probably better at their job than I was at mine. Maybe Rac wasnt doing so poorly. Id still worry though. *** Chapter Seven - The Kind of Work That Makes You Happy Chapter Seven - The Kind of Work That Makes You Happy Chapter Seven - The Kind of Work That Makes You Happy You should be happy working, because work IS happiness! --Sunshine Outlook: Global HR, 2035 slogan *** Coco landed her van in the same dank and stinking spot where wed found it earlier, then the bunch of us leapt out. I decided to keep the mask on, at least until we were filing back into the Barber Shop from the back and I felt like it wasnt dangerous to remove it. I noticed Rac doing the same, ripping off the full face mask and shoving it into her pack as a tangled mess of straps. That was a pretty clean job, guy and girls, Garter said. Uh, Cat, was it? Id usually be all for paying you for the help, but itll have to be something of a group decision, you know? Huh? Oh, I dont mind skipping the credits, I said. Are you sure? Coco asked. Spider: She didnt do anything. Hes right, I didnt do anything, I said. Besides, itd take some of the credits you did the work for and its not like you expected me to ride along. I really dont mind. If things had gone pear-shaped and I had to save your asses, then Id gladly accept your pay, but... yeah, that was a clean gig. I dont mind taking her share, Rac said. Garter snorted, then ruffled her head. Cute, but no luck, kid, he said. Rac pouted and glared at the ground, and I was pretty sure I was the only one that picked up her whiney Im not a kid, dammit. We filed into the main floor of the bar, and I noticed that the dancefloor had gained a few more patrons since we left. The music was still the same, ancient jazz and swing with some heavy synths and electronics overlaid atop them. There was a new lady singing, a big chick with a big voice crooning in French about her big problems. Garter led us back to the same booth wed started in, and when he sat down it was with a big, weary sigh. Alright, let me get everyones pay sorted out, then the first rounds on me. We all slipped into the booths as well, with Rac and I sitting on the edge. I didnt figure Id be staying here for very long. Garter did as he promised, and the mood improved noticeably as Coco and Jerusalem got their pay. Even Rac was grinning wider. Then the conversation turned to guns, and Garter and Jerusalem started to argue with the same kind of tone Id expect from an argument that had been had before. So, I said to Rac as I leaned back. Is this how it usually goes? She shrugged. Only been at it for a few days, she said. But... yeah, usually. I like to stay and eat after, but then I always get back home and back to work. The credits are good though. Yeah? Thanks, she said. I grinned. No problem! Oh, and Rac? Hes way too old for you. Rac flushed, glared, then darted off without saying anything. I laughed, then spun on my heel and headed out. I figured that counted as my good deed for the day. Are you serious about that blueprint? Cant cost that much, can it? Thats true. Id suggest getting something in the two to three hundred point range, itll give you several options for augmentations and consumer cybernetics on par with the best commercially available options. Also, if you want to prioritise Racs safety, then perhaps an under armour blueprint catalogue? You have gone through a few sets yourself. It would only take a half dozen more for you to start saving money with the blueprint. I sighed. Myalis was probably right, though, and we did have some resources to spare. If any of the other Kittens decided to start running around the city causing trouble, then Id want them to have the bare minimum gear with them too. You know what, that sounds really fair, Myalis. Thank you! We can discuss budgets if you want. Though that depends, what are you planning to do with the rest of your day? What do you mean? Im on vacation, arent I? Im done for the day, I think. Though... maybe it wouldnt hurt to plan for tomorrows disaster on the walk back. My bike was a good ten minutes away by foot. Certainly! Which issue did you want to tackle tomorrow, then? Right so... far as Im aware, theres the mayor that needs to do some explaining for me. Then theres the sewers. Shit, might have to take care of those sooner rather than later. The more we leave them alone, the worse theyll get. Oh, and the prosthetics thing. I started to set that up, then got distracted. I see. Let me draw up a schedule for you. But first, a few more minor details. Did you want the mayors visit to be done on official terms? Hmm... yeah, send him a nice warning that Ill be visiting him. Make it like, right after hes supposed to be done for the day, and tell him that itll be wherever he is at that time. I cackled to myself. Making politicians sweat was just fun and proper. Very well then! Tomorrow, the sewers. The day after, youll have an appointment with the mayor. And then the day after that an appointment with the people setting up your prosthetics charity? Eh, we can do the mayor thing and the charity thing on the same day. Telling the mayor off cant take more than a couple of hours, right? Yes, Im certain youll be able to navigate through complex politics without any issues. I rolled my eyes. Come on, have a little faith in me. Its hardly complex politics. Its me threatening someone. I can do that in my sleep! *** Chapter Eight - Checking Out the Stink Chapter Eight - Checking Out the Stink Chapter Eight - Checking Out the Stink Rosetta Stone 2041 presents: North American Mid-level English! With our expertly-crafted, AI-enabled teaching software, you can become fluent in middle-management in only 720 hours! --Ad for a Corpo-English language module, 2041 *** After coming back home and telling Lucy about my little adventure with Rac and the mercs, I spent the rest of the day... doing very little of import. I felt a bit bad about not spending time with the Kittens, so I bullied Nose for a while, put Bargain in a headlock when he tried to sell me a cola from my own fridge, and basically annoyed Junior and Katallina as much as I could without pissing them off too much. We played games, with Daniel kicking everyones ass until I let Myalis join in and the AI found herself incapable of doing anything but playing perfectly. Unleashing an AI on a cart-racing game was just unfair for everyone involved. Before I knew it, it was deep into the night and the sugar and caffeine was wearing off. I took a languid, wasteful shower, then bought some PJs from Myalis, then I bought a second pair for Lucy when I discovered that when the Protectors decided to make something soft, it was disgustingly soft. We just cuddled, warm and soft and tangled up together in a way that was comforting and familiar until at some point I drifted off while Lucy was murmuring a story about some puppies shed seen online. I awoke when Lucy crawled out of my arms. Need to pee, she mumbled sleepily, and Im sure whatever I said in reply was articulate and sensible before I rolled over and tried to sleep some more. But I couldnt sleep, especially not after checking the time on my augs, then checking my messages, then checking on some news. I had a tab open on news from Burlington, and it seemed like things werent entirely dire over there yet. Lucy came back, and I snuggled into her, now fully awake but still just scrolling through news and memes and memes of news. Eventually I had to piss too, so I rolled out of bed and started to take care of my morning... almost-afternoon, ablutions. So, were checking on the sewers today, right? I asked. That was the plan, yes. Ive done some cursory research, and I think there are two points of interest that you should visit. Two? I asked. Indeed. First, the City of New Montreal Sewage and Maintenance Headquarters. The main bureau. While they are more of an administrative branch, they do have connections to the entire sewer network. My bike was sitting out front, next to my mech. I promised myself that Id get back to fixing that later on, whenever it was that I came back. But first... I was burning daylight. The skies over New Montreal were uncharacteristically clear, with large holes in the cloud cover above bathing parts of the city in bright sunlight. The rest of the cloudy ceiling was, of course, pouring a deluge of water onto the city. I tugged up the lapels of my coat and pulled on my helmet, making sure that my ears were properly tucked into their slots so that it wouldnt pull. Then I was off. Maintenance HQ first? I asked as I circled our building. Certainly. I think it might be best to get a good look at the condition of things before requesting assistance. Requesting? I dont feel like begging, I said. Purchase a larger gun and demand it, then. I snorted. Ah, yeah, demanding assistance. Help me or Ill shoot you is always super convincing, Ill bet. It has been demonstrated to work before. Its almost a universal rule among intelligent beings evolved from predators that might makes right. I nodded along. My augs had the destination locked in, and fortunately, while the headquarters were basically on ground level, they werent in the undercity. Do you know a lot of species that are... uh, is it sapient or sentient? I asked. Well, whatever. I mean smart and also non-predator-based. There are several thousand on record, many of them still live and thrive within the greater sphere of the Protectorate. Many find the idea of violence abhorrent. Often this is a great detriment when the Antithesis inevitably appear at their metaphorical doorstep. Damn, yeah, I can imagine, I said. Its not always bad. Some species, especially those well-versed in agriculture and who have a solid technological and industrial base are able to hold out on their own for prolonged periods. I can get you a few documentaries on the subject. Heh, file that in for later. Maybe if we want to do movie night or something. I wasnt super interested in the going-ons of some unknown species halfway across the galaxy from me, but not being interested didnt mean I wasnt a little curious. I refocused on my flying. I didnt need to crash into some car speeding by while distracted. I suspected that the training whatsit that Id taken to allow me to pilot my mech was also helping me with my bike, because even without turning on autopiloting I had a much better... feel for how to manoeuvre through the city. Which was why I punched the throttle to the limit and pressed myself against the seat, breaking every law in the books as I headed out on a quest to find some trouble and fix it to death. Chapter Nine - Useless Crap Chapter Nine - Useless Crap Chapter Nine - Useless Crap People are impossibly fond of useless crap. Slap a number on it, call it collectible, and make it even moderately interesting, appealing, sexy, or cute, and youll trigger something real deep in that persons mind. -- Clown Red Nose McFace, CEO of GimmeUrCred, Non-fungible Physical and Digital Collectible Crap Publishing Inc. *** The City of New Montreal Sewage and Maintenance Headquarters wasnt a standalone building. It was relatively rare for a corp to have an entire building all on its own. Well, no, the really big corps owned downtown, but even they rented out sections of the megabuildings they held. What I was getting at, is that the NMSM Headquarters was located at the base of one of the older buildings in the centre of the city. It was a big, boxy thing, brutalist nouveau, with a few balconies sticking out of the side for old school AA emplacements. Basically, one of those first mega building projects that had gone up way back in the late 20s or so and which was probably showing its age in a million ways within. The seventh floor had been converted into a parking garage for hover cars at some point, so I drove my bike in and felt myself naturally trying to make myself smaller. The ceiling was way lower than it should have been, and the space was a disorganised mess. I parked on the curb next to an elevator and my augs flagged an incoming fine from the buildings automatic parking system for the violation. I hopped into the elevator, then sighed. It had one of those shitty old touch-screen button panels, with the looping advertisements. Id have to time it so that I pressed the right floor between ads. Can you punch in the right floor? I asked. I actually cant. The elevator isnt networked at all. Its floor 1, in any case. I shook my head, then stabbed a thumb against the screen after an ad for Mollys Miracle Mugs, which were just a collection of mugs with some dogs face on them, but they were collectible and had little cards that came with them, and I was sure this was exactly the kind of shit that Lucy would be into. The elevator rumbled down, bumping along a bit more than it should have, and I was already having some pretty serious doubts about the Maintenance part of the New Montreal Sewage and Maintenance group. The doors opened up onto a plain corridor. A guy in a button-up was cursing at a vending machine. I slipped past him, following ceiling-mounted signs towards reception. There, I found a room filled to capacity with random people. Old men, old women, some small families speaking in something other than English, lots of random folk. Too many to fit the seats in the relatively small reception area. Button-up guy came up behind me, muttering while holding a can of soda to his head. Hey, I said. You work here? Not for long, he said. He almost brushed past me, but I grabbed onto his shoulder, giving him pause. Im sorry, please take a ticket and wait. Were doing what we can here. Yeah, I see that. Look, Im here to talk to whoevers in charge. He shook his head. That wont work, half the Karens in the room tried that one already. Seven years, he said. Good enough. Round up everyone in this organisation with a lick of common sense and anyone whos good at getting shit done. Is there a meeting room? Oh, theres a control room on the map, whats that? He shrugged. The control room? It lets us see the state of the stuff we maintain. Im in accounting, I dont take care of that part. Fine, tell everyone to meet me there in... call it fifteen minutes. I spun on a heel and started down the corridor, only for button-up to run past me. He was sweating, and it didnt look like he was enjoying this all that much. Then again, more and more of the city was without water and without sewage, so a bit of sweat wasnt a big loss. I walked through the corridor, then started following the map, only slowing down to let some office drones move past. Most were human, but this office did employ a few literal drones that zipped around delivering papers and office... stuff. I ran into security halfway to the command room. Two overweight guys, looking particularly nervous, blocked my path before a sort of security station. It was one of those booths where youd need to present a card of something to be let in deeper. Uh, halt? one of them said. The other smacked him in the side. Can we help you, samurai, sir? Yeah, I said. People arent allowed on the other side? Smarter-guard shook his head. No maam, samurai, maam. Command has sensitive information and systems, and not just anyone can be let in close to those. Right, I said. Well, Im going in. And so are a bunch of others. Special circumstances and all that. The citys falling apart, and this place is supposed to prevent that and its not, so... yeah, are you two going to help or will we be having problems? I casually rested my hand atop my laser pointer. Well help! smarter said. How? dumber asked. Just be real nice to folk, I said. Maybe stand at the back of the room and carry anyone too annoying out when I tell you to. Are you all there is for security? Theres one more in the camera room, Smarter said. Were all thats here. Three people for three floors with some rather sensitive shit in them. Well, moderately sensitive. It was just the sewer controls, the worst that could happen probably was happening. Alright, fine, I said as I continued. An alarm went off, probably detecting that I wasnt authorised personnel and that I was packing, but I kept on moving through. There was a citys worth of unshowered people to save! *** Chapter Ten - The Stink Chapter Ten - The Stink Chapter Ten - The Stink Sewage as a system was a mistake, --Former Mayor Bennico of New Montreal, 2038 *** Can someone explain why all of this is the way it is? I asked. I was standing in the command room, which was an old-school sort of place, with several dozen workstations all facing one wall with massive screens and holographic readouts on it. The workstations were a mess of knobs and buttons and touch-screens, with little keyboards at the bottom and enough stuff going on to put the average nuclear submarine to shame. Right now, the wall-to-wall main screen was displaying what looked very much like a readout of the state of the citys sewer system. Green, I imagined, was good. Orange was probably a little fucky. And red was bad. Everything was red. That wasnt quite true, there were a few sections still tenaciously clinging to their green-ness, but the orange was encroaching in, and there were a few splotches of orange in the sea of red. But it was mostly red. Um, are you supposed to be here? a timid office-looking lady asked. She was behind one of the workstations near the middle of the room. I noticed that most of them were unoccupied, which was probably not ideal considering the number of warnings I was seeing on their screens. Whos going to stop me? I asked her. Besides, Im here to fix this shit. And it definitely looks like a lot of shits going on. The door into the command room opened, and button-up stepped in, accompanied by four more clearly-reluctant employees. One of the guards (smart one) that had accosted me earlier followed him in. Miss Samurai, button-up said. Ive gathered some of the people you asked for. This is Aaron Mitchell, head of cyber security, Brenda Rodriguez, shes the highest ranking member of our mesh-interface division, Charles Whitaker, hes an on-site engineer, Diana Nguyen, shes from HR, and Ethan Brown, hes the head of maintenance. I nodded and looked over the group. They were all mostly office-worker sorts, though some of their work habits showed in their manner of dress. I, of course, instantly forgot all of their names and waved off the two who came to shake my hand and do proper intros. Alright, so shits fucked, but I need to know what flavour of fucked were dealing with. Button-up glanced at his comrades who formed more or less a semi-circle around me. They glanced at each other, then one of them--HR chick, Nguyen or whatever--stepped up to the plate. Things arent looking good on the employment front. We have the highest turnover rate weve ever had. How bad? I asked. The worst of the damage can be mitigated, but well need a lot more hands working on fixing things. Then we can reopen things one part at a time. I nodded along, then stepped back, turning so that I was facing the screen of red fully. They might not have been able to see my face, but I still felt better without making eye contact with... the people whose names Id all already forgotten. Myalis, I muttered. What can we do here? That would depend entirely on how much youre willing to invest into the problem. If you go all out, youll end up quite broke, but New Montreal will have a functional sewer system by the end of the month. I checked the date. We werent near the end of the month. Shit, I said. The implication there was rather obvious. I wasnt about to sink all of my resources into sewage. Alright, so intermediary steps, I said. Again, that depends on the resources you want to sink into the project. Do you want to give the maintenance people better equipment like you did for the Kittens in Burlington? That could be relatively inexpensive and will make them more productive, but with the current situation, its unlikely to prevent a collapse, only prolong it. If you want, you could invest into drones and automated repair systems that would slowly fix the sewers. The more drones the faster theyll be able to fix things, but they would still need raw resources to work with. Im not going to be able to fix all of this on my own, I said, both because I reached the obvious conclusion, and because I wanted the others here to know. A few shoulders slumped, but it seemed as if that was expected already. Which means... were going to have to bully others for help. HR girl, I want you and everyone you can to cut the pay from the C-suite, split it between the rest of the employees evenly. My AI will send you instructions on how to empty their accounts too. On it. I pointed to the engineers next. Im going to be threatening others until they come around to help. Well still need you to do some work. Lots of it, even. Yes, maam, the head engineer said with a quick salut. He did have that ex-military bearing to him. Security guy... just, do your job, I guess. Uh, okay, security guy said. I nodded, proud of a job well done so far. If I couldnt fix the problem, then Id take a page from the Karen playbook and just bully the shit out of someone else to fix the problem. Which meant that my next stop was the Familys New Montreal headquarters. *** Chapter Eleven - Smiling Faces Chapter Eleven - Smiling Faces Chapter Eleven - Smiling Faces Corporate culture generally differs from company to company. If youre a job-hopper, you might suddenly discover that what was acceptable on one jobsite is no longer so on another. This can be confusing, or even distressing to discover.Fo?ll0w current novE?ls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m) Nonetheless, there are some things that are universal, such as how to treat a higher-up, or how to handle HR! --Job-Hopping and You! Article, 2046 *** I moved with a slight sense of urgency. Back out of the maintenance place, up the elevator, and straight to my waiting bike. I shot out of the side of the building, then up and into the sky, letting the autopilot do much of the work while I thought about the situation. Shit was fucked in a big way, and this was only the sewers. If something as relatively important as the waste and water systems were in this bad a shape, then how badly off was all the rest? Was the citys electrical grid about to go down? Its internet and mesh connections? Would public transport just... shit the bed? Actually, the last had done that from the moment it was built, but I could always count on it getting worse, somehow. The Familys HQ was relatively close by. Theyd stationed themselves closer to the newer downtown area, somewhere more or less between the NMSM Headquarters and my place, and when the Family installed themselves, they did so at the top of one of the bigger skyscrapers. There was a particular and not very specific distinction between a skyscraper and a mega-building. Skyscrapers were tall, thin buildings, sometimes fancied up with spiralling architecture and lots of glass. They were showpieces as well as living and working spaces. My new home was in a skyscraper. A mega-building was a fuck-huge block of concrete and despair. They were so fat and large that from afar they didnt look all that tall. It wasnt until you compared them to the skyscrapers next to them that you realized that they were about the same height. The highways and skylanes passed through the mega-buildings, because going around would add an hour to anyones commute. That was less about the distance and more about shitty traffic, but whatever. I zipped by a couple of big blocky buildings, then back up towards the top of a skyscraper whose entire upper floor section was narrowed to a shiny point, like the end of a fat teardrop. The side of the swooping section was opened to the elements, revealing several floors of parking space for hovercars. Nice hovercars, I noted as I came in for a landing. There wasnt a mom van or old beater in sight. The cheapest car in the lot was a German import and it was only a couple of years old at most. The rest were all luxury sedans, mini-limos, and Italian supercars. I parked my bike by the side of an elevator entrance and then swung my leg over the side of it. By the time I was standing a man was walking out of the elevator at a bit of a rush and moving towards me. The elevator door opened again, and I realized that we were on another floor. I hadnt even felt it moving. Eric stepped out, and then paused, waiting for me by the threshold with a smile that showed off how much hed spent on dental. Im sure we can help you, he said. Right, I said. I was more than a little doubtful about that, but I decided to keep my opinion to myself. The elevator opened to a lobby area, with comfortable leather seats to one side and a faux fireplace against the other wall with a big screen TV above it. It was properly fancy, and something about it set me on edge. Please, sit down, Eric said, obsequiousness turned to the max. Do you want anything to drink? We have water, all the sodas, any sort of liquor or alcohol? No, I said. Are you certain? There might be a small wait, Eric replied. He had his hands together and bowed a bit as he spoke. A wait? I asked. Until the people who will address your issue have time to gather, he replied. Right, I said. I looked around the room, then back at Eric, who stood there, just smiling. Weird fucker. This place was giving me more and more bad vibes. I started walking off deeper into the building. Eric followed, his footsteps echoing out ahead of me. Myalis, I muttered. Ive got a bad feeling. Interesting. I cant see anything wrong at the moment. Then again, there is suspiciously little to find in terms of electronic signatures. There are entire floors of this building that dont have cameras and where phones and cybernetic augmentations are shut down. Extra creepy. What was this place, a blacksite in the middle of the city? I... dont think I give a shit, I said. Are they reacting to me being here? I asked. Yes. I can see a few executives preparing for a meeting with you. I sighed. This was growing increasingly frustrating. I didnt want a meeting, I wanted to tell some idiots what needed doing so that they could jump and do it. Miss Stray Cat, Eric said. If you would follow me, the meeting room is this way? I bit my tongue. For now, it was probably worth it to just play along. The Family struck me as somewhat corpo, so it made sense that theyd do things their own way. But if they tried to string me along and waste my time, then Id have to see about expediting things. Also, I just really enjoyed a good excuse to make some CEO shit themselves. They were infringing on my vacation time, after all. *** Chapter Twelve - The Taste of Boot Chapter Twelve - The Taste of Boot Chapter Twelve - The Taste of Boot Unlike any aesthetic of the past, transhumanism is a permanent one. You might outgrown your goth phase, you might decide one day that you dont want to only wear pastels anymore, and maybe work will force you into an officecore look, but replacing your arms with tentacles is a far, far more permanent statement of aesthetic value, far more so than even something as semi-permanent as a tattoo. --Excerpt from Vagrants Future Fashion Blog *** I hated this very much. The moment Eric the bootlicker led me into the room, I knew Id hate it, but I still respected the Family.Finnd new chapters at novelhall.com The organisation had been helpful in the past. Theyd bankrolled PMCs to help, they had their own troops, and they were in contact with a multitude of samurai. A few of the samurai that Id consider friends, or at least acquaintances were part of the group. Longbow, Deus Ex, a few others. So I didnt want to ruin the Familys day by throwing a fit. They did good work. But leading me into a boardroom, with one of those massive all-wood tables surrounded by expensive office chairs and with screens on the walls rotating through promotional crap? That was really, really pushing it. The room was filled with half a dozen people wearing properly nice suits and nicer smiles. They asked me to sit down, buttered me up with compliments, and asked me if I wanted anything to drink. When I cut through and started talking about my problem of the day, the sewers, they were all terribly attentive. I got a panoply of hu-huhs and go ons that rankled. It was like getting constantly splashed in the face with lukewarm water. Annoying, but not something thatd kill me. It just felt like I was wasting my time in a big way. So, I said. Can you help me? The yes-men and yes-women looked at each other, still smiling their empty smiles, then the next one whose turn it was to talk nodded. Of course. The Family exists to help the samurai. If you deem this issue to be of vital importance in safeguarding humanity, then well do everything we can to ensure that things get done in a timely manner. Right, I said. That''s what I wanted to hear. Which was why it bothered me so damned much. So whats the plan here? Well, first, we should have some people check out the situation below, Yes Woman One said. And then reconvene with their findings. Its only reasonable to know what kind of work needs to be done before we set out, Yes Man Four said. Being a samurai changed that a little, but not nearly as much as I might have thought before becoming one. It just gave me more tools to be the one doing the messing, it didnt change the basic equation. Can you keep an eye on them? I asked. Certainly. Though some members of the organisation have already reached out to several plumbing companies within the region, it seems as if theyre attempting to hire independent gig-workers as well. So, they were getting to work, and without all the jerking around I was expecting. Okay... okay, cool, I said. Maybe I wouldnt have to throw a fit after all. That was nice. As I left the building, I couldn''t help but feel a slight sense of disappointment. The meeting was professional, and their answers were technically correct, but there was something off. Maybe it was the dissonance between their fancy office and the grimy, failing infrastructure I had just seen. Or maybe it was the overly polite, corporate way they danced around the issues. I paused outside of the building. The exit wasnt so far from the edge, and on a whim I walked over to it. Eric didnt follow. I imagined that he was sane enough not to want to stand on the very edge of a very long fall, not when there was little protecting us from the wind. Looking down, I could see all of New Montreal, or maybe just this one half of it on this side of the building. I was tall enough here that few buildings pushed higher. The city being this massive from up high put things into a weird perspective. The individual problems of the people below were minuscule, but at the same time, this was a massive place, and anything that I didnt fix like the sewers would hurt millions. Maybe that was it? The upper-echelon of the Family were detached from the rest of the city, living so high above it all. They didnt see the grime and shit. That was my world, though. They were in their clean suits, surrounded by glass and steel, talking about problems like they were numbers on a screen, while I was the one who would have to go down there, get my hands dirty, and deal with the issues at hand. "Time to get back to the grind," I muttered to myself, looking one last time over the cityscape. My vacation was on hold until this got sorted out. I was eager to get back to work on my mech, eager to spend time with Lucy, but not so much that Id just let things fall to the side and let the world go to shit for so many. You still have an appointment with the Mayor tomorrow afternoon. Ill be there. He needs to answer for why this wasnt taken care of already, I said. In fact, I think I can trace a lot of the blame here back to his office. Let me look things over. The local government does have oversight over this sort of thing. Infrastructure maintenance is one of their primary duties. You do that, I said. Im looking forward to my chat tomorrow. Bet theres a whole lot to learn. And a lot to answer for. *** Chapter Thirteen - Long Day Chapter Thirteen - Long Day Chapter Thirteen - Long Day Keep in mind that different vegetables need to be cooked differently. Organic vegetables are somewhat more fragile, and yet preferred by many. They need to be boiled, sauteed, baked or otherwise cooked before being cut and prepared for serving. Synthetic vegetables usually come pre-cooked at the right consistency and are pre-cut and ready to serve or mix into a larger recipe. --Footnote in Home Cooking 2044 *** I walked into our bedroom, shuffled over to the bed while shucking off my coat, then did a half-spin and fell back-first onto the bed. Long day? Lucy asked. Yeah, I said to the ceiling. I had to deal with people. Aww, poor kitty cat, Lucy crooned. She moved over the surface of the bed, and soon I found her sitting just above me, soft pyjama-clad thighs on either side of my head. Her face hovered over mine, upside-down from my skewed perspective as she started to press her fingers into and through my hair. Wanna talk about it? she asked. I let out a sigh, part frustration, part relaxation as she pressed into my scalp in just the right way. I headed out to see about the sewers, I started. Mhm, youd mentioned it. Yeah. figured they were kinda fucky, but didnt know how fucky they were, you know? I said. Theres this corp called the... New Montreal Sewage Maintenance... something or other. I cant remember their name. Thats a terrible name for a corp, Lucy said. Youd think theyd go with Sewageco, or something banal like Green Solutions. I chuckled. Yeah. I think it was city-operated for a while, then it went private. At least, thats the impression I was getting. Theyre the ones who are actually supposed to be taking care of the sewage and water and all that. Maybe Brown Solutions, then? she asked. I laughed. Yeah, maybe. Got there and all the C-suite suits had run off. Myalis nabbed their bank accounts, but theyre still off. I dont have the time or energy to chase after them. I swear, people are such... urgh. They probably had a good thing going. Skim off the taxes people pay for maintenance, maybe keep some corps properly connected to the water lines for a little extra on the side. I nodded. Yeah, the usual shit. Its not even imaginative. Its almost insulting how predictable it all is. I mean, come on, are we in a capitalist hellscape or a kleptocracy? Someone should teach these people to stick to their lanes. Lucy leaned way forwards and pressed a kiss on my forehead. Its okay. Did you find a way to fix things? Let me know if she comes back. I just want to check up on her, I said, then a thought crossed my mind. Have any of the other kittens been getting up to anything? Not really, Lucy said. Some of them are cheating on their lessons, the ones Miss Grasshopper signed them up for, but I figure learning how to cheats a good skill too. But otherwise, theyre mostly just chilling. Daniels probably the only one who might move out. Hes been finding odd jobs to do on the Mesh, and he left a couple of times to meet some online friends, and to walk around. Junior and Katalina are talking about finding work and living the high life, but I think they also like mooching off you, so dont expect them to just disappear. That was nice to hear. I worried, sometimes. Just a little bit though. Ill be tinkering, I said. Have fun! I didnt find a jacket to wear out into the New Montreal drizzle covering the balcony out front, but a shitty raincoat was only a couple of points from Myalis. I still worried when I bought it though. I was determined to fix the sewers at some point, and I was willing to splurge about ten-thousand points into it. Id started my vacation with just shy of forty-thousand points. Id splurged here and there, spending some on stuff at home, on tools and drones and more security and some upgrades for the kittens. Current Points: 33,451 That was a good nest-egg. And I was seriously considering burning a third of it away. Fortunately, I was still gaining points. A dozen or so a day, even. Myalis said that it was mostly people using gear Id given them scoring some kills. Enough and Id earn a few points as recompense. So as long as the cleanup continued around Burlington, Id earn a tidy little amount. Emphasis on little. Stepping out into the rain, I walked across to my mech, then stretched out my back. Right, where was I? I wondered aloud. Myalis must have caught on that it wasnt an honest question because her only reply was to bring up some schematics on my hud, a list of things left to take apart. The repair drone woke up and floated over, ready to assist. There was a lot to do, still, but for the most part the work wasnt so complicated that I couldnt think. It was nice to get lost in it, trying to undo a puzzle that was impossibly complex and which I had no hope of understanding in full, but where I could figure out little pieces of it, where I could tell what was broken and what needed replacing. It sounded like an ass-pull metaphor for what was going on with New Montreal as a whole. The city was broken. Not so much so that it wasnt functional still, but the break would spread and the problems would only get worse. I tackled the things on the list one at a time, and for the moment, I was mostly just ripping parts out and tossing them aside or handing them to the repair drone who floated them over to a bin. Maybe I could squeeze that into my metaphor too? Cat! Lucy called from the entrance. Suppers ready! Come eat while its still hot! Now... how would that part fit in? Was Lucy and her supper the samurai, or was she... wait, no, I was overthinking this. Right, Im coming! I called back. *** Chapter Fourteen - Mayoral Image Chapter Fourteen - Mayoral Image Chapter Fourteen - Mayoral Image Protesting as a form of protest--that is to say, the gathering of large crowds rallying for change--is dangerous to the economy, to the health of the individuals, and to the health of a government. That is why taking immediate, violent action against the protestors is often recommended. It puts a complete stop to the protesting action early with a minimal loss of potential revenues and a heavy reduction in the amount of property damage suffered, all for the cost of a few lives. --Copcore Promotion Material, 2029 *** I woke up an hour shy of noon the next day, and the first thing I did, while still half covered on the bed with a softly breathing Lucy next to me, was check my messages. There were lots. Most of them I dismissed while skimming through. The Mayors office had sent me a reminder about our meeting in... about forty minutes. The Family sent a long form with requisitions and updates on the whole sewage situation. I rubbed at my fleshy eye as I read over a kindly worded message from Peter Silverbloom about that prosthetics clinic. Right. Forgot about that, I muttered. Myalis, can we set up a meeting with him tomorrow? Certainly. And good morning, Catherine. I was contemplating waking you up soon. You still have time to shower and dress for your meeting with the mayor. Did I want to shower and dress for a meeting with the mayor? No, no I did not. But I had to. Not only did I not want to come off as the sort of person that couldnt be held to her word, I also... wait, actually that was really the only reason. Well, that and Id just end up having to put off the meeting. Besides, the mayor had some explaining to do. The buck was supposed to stop at his corrupt office, not at my doorstep. I slithered out from under Lucy, giving her head a peck when she grumbled sleepily, then I trudged over to the showers and stood under scalding hot water for a while. The building had some sort of water recuperation and filtration thing going on, separate from the rest of the citys water grid. This was a luxury few people would be able to afford soon if I didnt get moving. With time ticking onwards, I rooted around the bedroom for something to wear, then decided to head out fully kitted. That meant a clean undersuit, good samurai boots and a long coat, all with enough stealth tech to make me a nightmare to corner. The helmet came on last. Make another note, I said. We need to go clothes shopping at some point. I couldnt just wear samurai stuff all the time. I needed threads for more casual stuff. Lucy was having fun printing T-shirts, but I sure as shit wasnt going to wear a shirt that said Wired Wrong or My Girlfriend Has Vibrating Fingers on it. The shirt with I Know Where Cats Reset Button Is on it was just too lewd to be seen in public. Although... it might embarrass the mayor. Oh well, next time. I was already dressed and I had twenty minutes to get to the meeting which was nearly halfway across the city from here. I snuck out the front of our place, noting that some of the Kittens were already up and some hadnt gone to sleep yet. I waved them goodbye before heading out. It was, of course, raining, so I slipped on my helmet (which Id definitely need to drive around anyway) then walked over to my bike which Id parked near the mech. Myalis was kind enough to punch in the location data before Id even started the bike up, so it knew where I was going before I even took off. The flight was what Id expect from a flight across New Montreal. Long and tedious, even if I was cutting across traffic and zipping through no-fly zones the entire time. The Mayors office was in the city council building, which I noticed had a bit of a crowd forming at the front. Dozens of people, some with cheap signs, others with holographic projectors sending out banner messages over their head. Then there was the police and the news, all crowding closer to the front. And I was right there, in the background, arms crossed but with the framing it probably looked like I was tacitly supporting him. The absolute fucker. Our city is facing a myriad of issues, and I assure you, they are not being ignored! It pains and yet gladdens me to see so many gathered here in protest. You are right to be upset but we will overcome this challenge together. We are too resilient, too tough to allow some adversity to put us down. Dupont stepped to the side slightly and gestured back towards me. Suddenly I could feel thousands of eyes on me. How long had he been planning this for? Since I made that appointment? Did he know Id park out front? Fucker. Ladies and gentlemen and others, meet Strat Cat, one of New Montreals own, a hero and symbol of the Citys strength, and of course a valiant friend of the Dupont management and proof that we will solve your, and our, problems! No, I said. No one heard me though, one voice against Duponts which was being blasted out from some speakers somewhere. Dupont, you sack of shit. With the help of New Montreals own samurai we will-- and on and on he went, political nothing, but people were listening because I was here. If I was in that crowd, what would I think? Samurai were fucking mythical to some people who didnt know better. Id been one of them, one of those to think that we could fix anything. And now Dupont was rubbing himself all over that image. I was only aware that Id pulled my Trenchmaker out of its hip-sheath when Duponts voice cracked. Probably because the barrel was pointing unwaveringly at his head. No, I repeated. Myalis, patch me in. Done. You dont get to use me as a fucking prop to cover up more empty-promises. You were given a chance to fix things. I warned you already. Today was meant to be your second and last. Duponts own mic cut off. An aug? An aide pulling the switch? In any case, when he next spoke, it was just between the two of us. Youre going to threaten me in front of this entire crowd? You can only get away with so much. Im the rightfully elected mayor! You had power. Had. You wasted it, didnt even try to make things better. My voice rang out over the square. Stray Cat, this isnt a nice image. Fuck your image, I said. Then, before he could talk me out of it, I pulled the trigger. Dupont flopped to the ground, the upper half of his head sprayed out behind him. The crowd, predictably, screamed. The cops were clearly undecided on what to do next. I turned to the crowd while tucking my gun away. Go home, I suggested. Or dont. One way or another Ill fix this. Waking up before noon was a mistake. It left me so damned grumpy. *** Chapter Fifteen - Empirical Chapter Fifteen - Empirical Chapter Fifteen - Empirical Though empirical evidence may have demonstrated that theres no such thing as karma, we still find ourselves attracted to the idea. It is so simple and elegant a system that its hard not to begin to think that the world works on such karmic scales when we know it does not! --On the Philosophy of Guilt, 2045 *** I rode my bike up and to the top of a skyscraper some dozen blocks away, then I slowed down and parked on the roof. Leaning forwards, I let my head thunk against the bar and closed my eyes. Fuck, I muttered. The adrenaline was washing off. The image of what Id just done replayed itself. Of all the times I had to not miss. Fuck, I repeated. Are you okay, Catherine? I nodded, took a deep breath, then just stewed in the moment. This was going to have consequences. If I was a smarter girl, then Id be able to guess at those, but right now, I had no fucking clue. Samurai were above the law. At least, thats how they acted. Id acted that way too. It was useful, it let me do shit without having to worry, it had let me save lives. I knew there were stories about samurai shooting politicians, mobsters, CEOs, but those had always sounded like legends. A cynical part of me, a big part, always suspected that those stories existed because it gave stupid rebellious morons like me a reason to believe that there was still some karmic justice out there. Id never seen a samurai blow up a politicians head on live TV. Wait. Myalis, was that being broadcast? Mayor Duponts speech? Yes. It was on television as well as several live feed sites. Do you want viewership details? Was anyone watching? I asked. I sure as shit wouldnt watch anything like that. Cartoons would be a better waste of my time than seeing the mayor complain. Initial viewership was low, but news that the mayor was working with a samurai spiked viewership. Initial views say at around thirty-thousand and increased to two point two million at the time of your shot. Shit, I muttered. The clips have gone viral. It would be a considerable amount of work to track down total viewership of those. Its safe to assume that it''s in the tens of millions already. It had only been a few minutes! I groaned. There was no hiding this. If it helps, initial views suggest a generally positive response. I imagine it will spread a lot more as the afternoon goes on. I was getting sidelined? I asked. The fuckers. Then again, the Family was a big deal. They probably had a lot of work going on across a lot of the city, and beyond New Montreal as well. Was is the operative term. It seems that news of your interaction with the Mayor has reached the Family and that, in turn, has encouraged them to increase the priority of your mission. I was expecting the consequences of my actions to be negative for me. This sounded like it was pretty much the opposite. I started heading towards the elevator doors only for them to open up and for Eric to stumble out of the elevator. Miss Stray Cat, he greeted. Eric was sweatier than I remembered him being, and the guileless smile of his had taken on a new look to it. We werent expecting you. I came to see how things were progressing, I said. Ah... yes, of course. Thats your prerogative. Yes, of course. Please follow me? The, ah, group in charge of your project are hard at work, but Im sure theyll make some time for you. Cat, you might want to see this. I slipped into the elevator while Myalis brought up a small screen in my augs. It was a camera view from somewhere in the building. I recognized some of the people, theyd been the smiling weirdos I saw last time I was here, three of them in an office. They were clearly panicking. The audio popped into my ear. Shes coming! Shes coming and we dont have shit to show her? one of them was saying. Calm the fuck down. Its not that bad, its been barely a day, she can''t expect us to be that far ahead, another said. She can expect us to have done something! shouty replied. We did do something, one of the women shot back. She was a good deal calmer, though she lacked that smiling corporate calm that they all had yesterday. Lets present what we have and hope that its enough. I cut away from the camera feed and laughed. Eric spun around to look at me, but I waved him off. I saw a funny meme, I explained. Ah, of course, he replied. The elevator stopped at the same place as last time, and Eric went through the same spiel, asking if I wanted something to drink, and politely asking that I wait. It was a lot easier to wait when I knew that the people making me wait were the ones dreading the meeting. I had ten or so minutes of sitting around to do, so I split my attention between Myalis spying and checking out some local media sites. The video of the mayor getting shot was out already. The official livestream had cut off nearly as soon as my Trenchmaker fired. Fortunately, there were some hundred-odd people in the crowd filming everything, so there were dozens of angles of the mayor getting hit. It was still weird seeing myself in third person. I couldnt help but notice how strangely I stood there. It looked like I didnt give a shit that a crowd was watching. It was weird. I should have been a little more self-conscious or something because this didnt look natural. Some people just had a gift for being charismatic while just standing there. I wasnt one of those people. Miss Stray Cat, theyre ready to see you now, Eric said. I followed him into a boardroom, the smiling faces were all at their places, grins fixed, but I noticed the sweat, I could almost smell it off of them. So, I said as I grabbed the seat at the head of the table and pulled it away so that I could stand there. What kind of progress have you been making? I asked. *** Chapter Sixteen - Board Meeting Chapter Sixteen - Board Meeting Chapter Sixteen - Board Meeting Not all of the new technology we have came from the Protectors. In fact, most of it is human-made. Human ingenuity counts for the majority of new creative technologies, and I wont waste my time listening to people who think that everything weve worked hard to invent is merely deconstructions of alien technology. --Bob Manperson, defending his companies patents in a congressional hearing, 2029 *** Corporate board meetings were a lot more enjoyable when everyone else at the table was aware that you might shoot them. It was a nice discovery to make, but one I didnt get to revel in for all that long. We were only half an hour into the meeting when my phone app went off. One sec, I said as I stepped back from the table. After the first ten minutes or so, I started to regret shoving the chair away at the start. Sure, it made me more intimidating, but my feet were starting to ache from standing for so long. Got a call, Ill be back. I stepped out of the room and into the corridor just outside while answering the call. It was from Lucy. You shot the mayor, she said as an introduction. Hi Lucy, I replied. Love you too. She sighed. Cat, why are you on TV for shooting the mayor? Because I... shot him? I said. I can fancy it up, if you want? Fancy it up? she asked. I grinned. I ensured that his chances of re-election were diminished, I said while trying to sound as snooty as possible. It worked, Lucy snorted on the other end of the line. Youre such an idiot, she said fondly. Also, no, I dont want the job. You sure? I asked. Youd get a swanky office. And get to wear girlboss suits. Youd look really hot. I dont think you should generally get into politics just so that you can wear nice suits and have a nice office, Lucy said. Also, if you wanted to see me in a suit, you just had to ask. Im sure something could be arranged. I laughed. I might take you up on that. We havent done any shopping, have we? I was just thinking I needed some new streetwear. Maybe we can hit up some shops in a couple of days. Tomorrow will be busy, and todays a bust, but the day after? Sure, Lucy said. I wouldnt mind that at all. What are you up to now? Hiding from the cops? Nah, cops wouldnt know what to do with me. Im at the Familys HQ, scaring them shitless. I think they were planning on being lazy about the whole sewer thing, even after I came here, hat in hand, asking for their help. Now theyre reconsidering. Its nice. Um, she said. Thank you. Ill start the charge-back proceedings and send the contract to legal. I nodded, then continued to skim through Myalis reports. She was able to more or less verify every company, subsidiary, and independent contractor, which was impressive because with every hour that passed another couple hundred people were mobilised towards fixing the sewers. This was quickly growing into a project. I didnt like the idea of multiple levels of management, but with as many companies as there were working together all at once, it was going to be impossible to keep tabs on anyone without that kind of net. Maybe the Familys slow moves at the start were justified after all. Committees to arrange committees. Ah, Miss Stray Cat, Eric said as he came over. If he had a hat hed be holding it in his little hands looking pitiful with it. Weve arranged a space for you to summon up the equipment you, um, agreed to provide, maam. Right, I said. You guys in here keep up the good work. The work was starting to move forwards. Slowly. The first people on site were inspectors. Independently hired ones, with at least a few years of experience and a low corruption index score. They were scouring the sewers right now, checking on the state of things and sending their findings back. It was bleak, for the most part. There were some areas that were better than Id hoped, mostly close to some corps that had decided to maintain things on their own dime for a while. Other parts were outright fucked. There was a section of a main sewer line that had collapsed months ago, the entire pipe breaking open as the earth shifted around it. Blackwater was seeping out into the dirt around the pipe and probably into the water table. When that pipe was large enough for two city buses to drive past each other within it, that meant that it was a problem. But it could, in theory, be fixed. It would just cost a fortune. That fortune had to come from somewhere. That somewhere was me. By all rights, it should have come from the city and its taxes, but the Family said that for whatever reason, the city bureaucratic engine was currently stalled out. I followed Eric through the headquarters until we reached a room whose door was only labelled as Warehouse 17. The corridors up until there were all the pretty faux-marble ones, with nice paintings every few metres and carefully placed sofas for guests to sit on, so it was a little strange when Eric opened a door into a room that really fit its name. Warehouse 17 was a warehouse. It was all cement and shelves, and the space was large enough to fit a dozen semi-trailers worth of stuff. There was even a forklift parked in the corner, and some garage doors presumably leading deeper into the buildings less pretty sections. Eric handed me a computer pad before I could say anything. It had a list of the shit the Family wanted. Half of it was gear and equipment for the reconstruction. Multi-tools, small hand-held scanning devices, stuff that I could scrounge up that would be better than anything commercially available. It accounted for three-quarters of the budget. The rest were odds and ends. Different sorts of grenades, guns, ammunition, some gear, then a lot of household stuff that I happened to have access to from my catalogues. I sighed. The goal here was simple. Id give them fodder to deconstruct and theyd bankroll this project off of the future profits. Id be getting my share of royalties from it, of course. Didnt stop me from feeling like a bit of a sellout. *** Chapter Seventeen - A Home Visit Chapter Seventeen - A Home Visit Chapter Seventeen - A Home Visit French was, until the fall of Canada and the dissolution of the province of Quebec, the official language of the Quebec region. Its still a language widely spoken today, with well over fifty percent of the population in the region being at least fluent in French. However, the language of the modern world is English, and without governmental oversight, educational reforms, and most importantly a powerful cultural background, most people in the region tend to learn English as a primary language. --On the French of Canada, 2043 *** I arrived at home entirely exhausted. The sun had set already, so Id flown through the night with nothing to beat back the neon glare of the city. It wasnt that bad. After all, my current entirely-reasonable sleep schedule had me waking up a bit before noon, so it really only felt like lunch time, but at the same time coming home after dark made it feel like Id been working all damn day long. Plus it was a bit of an eventful day. Productive, sure, but eventful. I was a little surprised to notice a car parked out front right next to my mecha. The house had defences, and Id told Myalis that using them on media, police, or anyone that seemed annoying was totally fine. Once I got a little closer, I could see why the car hadnt been blasted off the roof. It was a muscle car, all sleek, aggressive lines and painted a black so deep that swallowed the light around it. Id recognize Gods Righteous Fury anywhere. Which meant that Gomorrah was here. Or maybe Franny had taken the car out for a ride. That depended on whether Gomorrah would allow her favourite person to drive her favourite car. I wasnt sure which of the two sat higher on Gomorrahs list of priorities. I parked my significantly-less-cool-than-the-Fury bike a couple of metres away then leapt off of it. Im home! I called out as I opened the front door. I removed my helmet and tossed it onto the nearest couch as I made my way in deeper. The kittens were spread out and around, doing their own things, and I got a few hellos from the older ones. Then Nose ran up to me and stopped right in my way with shining eyes. You blew up the mayor! he said. Just his head. That was awesome! Can I have a gun? I considered it. The responsible thing to say was no. Sure, I said. But not right now. Maybe ask Grasshopper, she can give you like, safety lessons. Stop you from blowing your own head up. I wasnt going to teach someone how to aim when I could barely figure out depth perception myself. I patted Nose on the head until he squirmed away, then made my way deeper in. There was some noise in the kitchen, someone laughing, some music playing at a fairly low volume. I paused by the entrance and looked in to find the kitchen more occupied than ever before. Gomorrah was sitting on the little island thing to one side dressed in casual clothes. Or as casual as Gomorrah ever was, which meant a blouse and button up sweater over a skirt that stopped below the knee. It was all very 1950s housewife chic. Hey, if you two want, you can head out, Lucy said. I want to tease Franny and thatll be hard to do with the both of you here. Besides, itll be another half hour before this is done. She gestured to the big pot still on the stove. There was some steam coming from it that smelled like... beef? I wasnt actually sure what she was making. A stew, maybe? Sure, I said. Have you seen my mecha up close? It got damaged and Ive been trying to fix it up. You know how to fix things? Delilah asked. I shrugged. Come, Ill show ya. We stepped out and started across the living room when we ran into Daniel. The oldest kitten in the bunch paused in front of us, then eyed Delilah up and down. Wow, you are hot, he said. Dammit, Daniel, I said. She could literally light you on fire. I know, Im warming up already. Whats your casual name, hotstuff? he asked. Wait, you know shes a samurai, right? I asked. Delilah seemed content not to have to interact with Daniel at all. Yeah. That only makes it better, no? he asked. Hi, Im Daniel. Big fan. Hi, she said. Somehow Delilah managed to communicate I will skin you alive slowly with a single syllable and a narrowing of her eyes. Daniel raised his hands in surrender. Okay! Cool. Nice to meet you, Im gonna... not be here. Fantastic idea, I said as he stumbled off. Sorry. Hes a... hmm... fucking moron? You keep him around because? she asked. Hes a kitten. Well, hes a little old for one, but it doesnt matter. Him mooching off of me doesnt really cost anything. I held the front door open for her and we stepped out. It was a bit chilly out, and the wind was pretty strong, but it wasnt bad enough to need to head back in just yet. The mech and my deactivated repair drone were sitting where Id left them. Delilah seemed actually interested as I started to explain what Id been fixing on it. Unfortunately, I wasnt so smart or deep into the work yet, so I wasnt going to be able to hold up the conversation forever. Youre actually moving things along nicely, she said. Especially considering how much stuff youre doing all at once. Its not that bad, I said. I... I wanna keep busy. Itd feel wrong not to. But were on vacation? she asked. Yeah, I guess. Doesnt change that I have to do something. The wind hummed between us, and eventually Delilah nodded. I think I understand. Cat, Delilah said after a brief but awkward silence. She brushed some of her hair away from her face. I think I need to ask you for a favour. *** Chapter Eighteen - Home Chapter Eighteen - Home Chapter Eighteen - Home You want to buy a house? In this market? Are you delusional? -- Someone, 2023 *** A favour, I repeated. What is it? You need dating help? Dating help? Delilah shook her head. No, why would I ask you for dating advice? Well, that was rude. Hey, why wouldnt you ask me for dating advice? Lucy and I have been steady for years. You think it was easy to convince her to date me? Delilah blinked, then looked away across the city. Okay, I hadnt thought of that. I guess I just figured you two somehow skipped the dating phase entirely. Well, we are both very horny, I admitted. Delilah sighed. I dont want to hear it, please. I just know Lucys putting ideas in Frannys head right now. I laughed, then swept some hair out of my face. I needed a haircut one of these days. Also, my hair was humid as fuck. It wasnt even raining yet the city managed to make it feel like it was. So, whats this favour? I asked. Its a little awkward, she said. I was already down to helping you with dating stuff, so I think were past the a little awkward phase. Delilah poked me in the short ribs with a knuckle. Dont be an ass, she said. Ive got... domestic problems. With Franny? No, not with Franny, shes... nevermind my relationship, its complicated, but not in a bad way. Its the rest thats a problem. You mean with where youre living? I walked over to one of the legs of the mech then sat down on it. The cat-like mech was sitting like a sphinx at the moment, so there was plenty of room to use it as a bench. A rather uncomfortable one, but still. Delilah looked around for a place to sit, then hopped backwards onto the head of my repair drone. The poor thing just sat there, frozen. Its the nuns, she said. The... oh, right, you live in a nunhouse. Its not called a nunhouse, Delilah said. Its a convent. And an orphanage and school and a few other things all rolled into one. I didnt mind staying in the dorms a few months ago, before... all of this. She gestured vaguely at the mecha and the house and the two of us. I took it to mean she was talking about all the samurai stuff. She became one a bit before me. But now its getting to be a bit much. The head of the convent is insisting that I get their rooms, the others are either fawning over me or tip-toeing around and... and Franny and I cant get a private moment anywhere. I dont mind the attention, and its nice to be treated well, but I grew up with these women. I dont have that much to move, she said. Good, less work for me, but I still expect free pizza out of it. I grinned, then glanced at the front door. Speaking of, think suppers ready? We stood and made our way back inside while chatting about homes and such. Delilah didnt have any house-related catalogues, but she did have a lot more points on hand than I did. She suggested pooling our resources a little to sabotage-proof the rest of the tower, which wasnt a terrible idea. Id placed a few turrets out and around the top floors already, to keep things safe, but with two samurai in the same building I expected that our security would need to climb a bit. Lucy was leaving the kitchen just as we got closer. Oh, cool, I was about to go fetch you. Come on, foods ready! Franny was just finishing up setting the table with bowls and utensils, four sets of them. Are the kittens eating with us? And making a mess? Lucy asked. Nah, I made enough for them, but they can eat out of paper bowls. Also, we need a cleaning bot. A cleaning bot? I asked. Yeah, like that repair drone you have. Theres stains on the stove that I cant get off, and Ill bet every last credit I have that the kittens will be turning this place into a dump before the months out. That.. was actually a fair point. Ill look into it, I said. In the meantime, wed just need to clean things like they did way back in the day; by hiring someone poorer than us to do it. Lucy brought the pot over to the table, then started to ladle food into our bowls. It was a brown gooey stuff with chunks of meat and... beans? Is this chilli? I asked. Oh, hey, I didnt mess it up so bad that its unrecognisable, Lucy said. It smells nice, I said. Its real meat! Lucy cheered. Or as real as what I could make with the printer, in any case. So... real meat that didnt come from an animal? I asked. Lucy shrugged. In her defence, it was probably better than the vat-grown shit we could order online. With everyone served, Lucy returned the pot to the kitchen, then called the kittens to get served. She very quickly handed over the job to Daniel though and returned to us. Im assuming you dont do prayer before eating, Delilah said. I dont do praying in general, I said. She shrugged, then took a spoonful. Hmm, this is good, she said. I took a spoonful, shoved it in my mouth, and chewed for a bit before my eyes started to water and my mouth started to burn. Lucy, why is this so hot? I asked. Lucy frowned. Was it a tablespoon of pepper, or a cup? she muttered. *** Chapter Nineteen - Hardware Chapter Nineteen - Hardware Chapter Nineteen - Hardware In the 80s and 90s people kind of assumed that the future would be cyborgs. We have early sci-fi and movies like Robocop to thank for that, I think. Theres something romantic about a person combining their weak flesh and powerful technology. Unfortunately, romantic and realistic arent the same. --Techtransitionalism, a video essay, 2040 *** I sat on my bike, adjusted my helmet, then finally decided to look at where Id be heading to. I had a noon-time appointment with one Peter Silverbloom, a man that Id met in person all of once and yet whom I still kind of just... trusted. Peter was a bit of a weirdo, but he wasnt a bad sort. In fact, it was the opposite. He struck me as very nice. Not a saint or anything, but maybe the closest thing to that in a shithole like New Montreal. His service record was basically nothing but volunteer and non-profit work, and not the hyper-corporatized sort that was flashy and self-serving, but actual get-your-hands-dirty work. And I had an appointment with him in about half an hour. So, where are you, Mister Silverbloom, I muttered. Im assuming that was a rhetorical? More or less, I said. Did he send his location for this meeting? Via email three days ago, then he sent three corrections since. Wow, he really cant decide where to meet? Is there a common thread here? Should I be worried about traps or something? I asked. My map app opened up and pins appeared in the locations that I assumed he wanted to meet in. They were all lower city spots, mostly close to the more urban parts of the city, but that was the only common thread that I could see at a glance. Every location is a different non-profit. I dug into it out of curiosity, and it mostly seems as though Peter is just a busy man. His attention is constantly being diverted to issues with different groups within the city. He is quite good at putting out metaphorical fires. Huh. I guess that makes sense. This guys not gonna live long if hes spending this much time chasing after problems. He wont be able to fix every problem in New Montreal. I turned my bike on and then gently rolled it off the side of the building. My flight drooped for a bit before I started to fly properly and then did a long, slow circle of our home. His success rate at solving those problems is quite impressive, and his record suggests someone who is genuinely selfless. Im happy to see you help him as it might help a lot of others. As far as I can tell its mostly safe. Mostly? Theres a drug production facility two floors down that doesnt meet even the loosest of safety standards, there are several dozen armed people on this floor, and hundreds more across the rest of the building, there are addicts and gang-affiliated people spread around you, but for the most part, the local threats are unlikely to be able or willing to harm you. Right, so mostly safe, I said. The place Peter wanted to meet me at was in the centre of the building. There was an open space where a bunch of corridors came and met in what might have been supposed to be a sort of town square area. There were two automated fast food places, a couple of boarded up stores, a pawn shop, and to one side a place called Death Bread, which was apparently where we were supposed to meet. I slipped into the entrance and took a look around. It was a bakery, of sorts. The food looked... actually, kind of decent. Next to all the prices--which were all in the low hundreds of credits, some even in the double-digits--were little plaques with expiration dates. Most of those were a few days ago. A young woman came up to me, she had a smile, and no eyes. Her hand reached out to shake, and I realized that it was a skeletal prosthetic, one of those older cyborg arms. You must be Catherine, she said. The upper half of her face was a cavity with plastic skin and a trio of cybernetic eyes. Yeah, thats me, I said. You dont look like Peter, unless he had a serious makeover? She snorted. Nah, Peters in the back dealing with something. I can tell him to drop it, if you want. Its probably not that important? No, its fine, I said. So, youre his... assistant? She shook her head a little. Her shirts neckline was just loose enough to reveal that her neck was reinforced. No, Im Laura. Friends call me See-Three. Peter called me over for a consult, of sorts, if you wanna borrow the corpo term. Nice arm, by the way. Thanks. A consult, huh? Laura nodded. He said you were donating a bunch of prosthetics. Dont know where youre getting them, or what sort they are, but I know my metal bits better than anyone else. Howd Peter find you? I work for a charity that fixes folks'' cyberware for cheap. Poorly installed gear is a nightmare. Cheap gear is awful. Combine the two and you can make someones life not worth living real fast. Been there myself, so I try to help where I can. That sounds like exactly what we need, I said. A door further into the bakery opened, and Peter came out. He saw me, then smiled. It was time to get to work, it looked like. *** Chapter Twenty - Unsub Chapter Twenty - Unsub Chapter Twenty - Unsub Everything today is based on a subscription system, why not air? --AirCo, Premium Air Services, 2038 *** Peter was a weird guy. He was... too nice, if that made even a lick of sense. At the moment he was in a dress shirt and slacks, a corpo outfit by any measure, only it was clearly about half a decade out of fashion, his topmost button was undone, and it looked like his shirt had been pressed by someone unfamiliar with an iron. Somehow it all came together to make him look like someone who was professional, but not corporate, trustworthy but not infallible. If he was doing it on purpose, then Peter was way ahead of everyone else. If he wasnt, then he either had a damned good secretary or whatever dressing him, or his instincts were on point. Sorry for the delay, he said as he racked his fingers through his hair. Just had to take care of a few things. He smiled at me, then glanced at the cyborg next to him. Ah, I take it Lauras introduced herself? As See-Three, I said. Whats up with that name anyway? Laura shrugged, then gestured to her face. Three eye-sensors. The name just kind of stuck. Its gotten to the point that Im a little worried about switching out to something different. Her eyes were pretty weird. Three short tubes poking out of a plate buried into her face. I noticed that Laura didnt have a nose, instead there was a small filter tab off to one side of her face with a tube running back to where her nose should have been. It was a bit of a fucky look. Makes sense, I said. I didnt have rocks to throw from my glass house. Stray Cat was a lot harder to explain as far as names went. Hell, I had a house. I wasnt a stray. Id even go so far as to say that I was properly house-trained. I shook my head and refocused. Anyway. Im here for the thing we talked about a while ago. You had prosthetics to donate, Peter said. I remember, its why I had See-Three come over. Shes the best when it comes to this kind of thing. Im hardly the best, See-Three said. Youre certainly better than I am, Peter shot back. The only thing Ive got going for me are my augs and some body sculpting. Oh, and a pancreas. Your pancreas? I asked. I think my confusion came through because he chuckled at that, then waved dismissively. Family history of diabetes, he said. I got some biomods for my pancreas... about ten years ago? Trust me, I couldnt stand being in this place if I couldnt handle some sugar. I nodded along, then glanced around the open space. There was a decent amount of foot traffic here. A few families, some people on their own, a few people pushing carts and even a bit of mobility scooter traffic. It was a passing spot. I noticed the gangsters too. Just younger guys and girls, hanging out together on the street corners, watching people go by. A lot of them were watching me. I figured they could keep watching as long as that was all they did. When we took the lease, the corporation that owns these shops insisted that we take two lots, Peter said. They wouldnt even negotiate otherwise. So we ended up with the bakery and this shop location over here. Peter moved across the square to a second shop with boarded up windows. He stared at the door for a while, then there was a hard clunk as it unlocked. Tugging the door open, he gestured us in. It was dark, but I had enough sensors and shit in my helmet to make it seem as bright as if the entire place was lit up. I imagined it was the same for See-Three because she stepped in without a worry. Ah, let me... right, the lights breaker is down, Peter said. He slipped past and towards the back. The shop might have been used for something else before, but it was hard to tell what. There were three booths to one side, without any chairs or anything within, but with mirrors on the walls, then a counter at the back. The only furniture left were some plastic chairs to the left. It was clear that at some point there had been dozens of ads or signs of some sort on the walls, but theyd been removed, leaving discoloured squares behind. What was this place? I asked. A Stop and Chop hair salon, Peter said from the back. It looked like there was a small maintenance room back there, maybe with some storage or something. He was rummaging around with a little flashlight. Found the lights! The lights came on with a click and a hum, bathing the space in bright neon white. It had looked nicer when it was dark. In the full light, the stains on the ceiling became more obvious, and the broken linoleum seemed far worse. Its... not the worst place, I said. Im hoping that we can turn it around, Peter said with a winsome smile and his hands on his hips. We havent negotiated a price for the prosthetics, but... well, I felt like you were trying to be charitable, so I imagine that well be getting a fair price. I think that the cost of the prosthetic accounts for most of the cost with this kind of thing, right? About two-thirds, See-Three said. Maybe less, actually. When you get a new mod a good chunk of the cost is the mod itself, then the rest is the installation and whatever initial fee there is for your software subscriptions. Subscriptions? I asked. She nodded, then wiggled her hands. For software updates for your limbs and bits. Cheaper models cost more per month, higher-end gear is cheaper. Depending on how long you have something for, going better can save you a lot in the long run. Well, we wont have subscriptions, I said. And the prosthetics will be cheap. If you can make the price reflect all of that, then I think we might have a good thing going. *** Chapter Twenty-One - Eternal Optimism and Petty Spite Chapter Twenty-One - Eternal Optimism and Petty Spite Chapter Twenty-One - Eternal Optimism and Petty Spite As climate change continues to grow in scale and scope, the world will continue to become less hospitable to humankind. We should have addressed this fifty years ago, and its too damned late to do anything about it now, but that doesnt mean that we will just keel over and die without putting up a fight. Its why we seeded clouds across the entire planet. Its why we live in more and more cities with enclosed environments. The world might kill us, but that doesnt mean that well go out so easily. No, our death will be slow and painful. --Professor U. Shuda Listened, Climate I-Told-You-So Expert, 2025 *** A lot of my plans hinge on the fabricator, I said as I slowly flew up and through New Montreals skyline. Thats understandable. Its one of your largest purchases, and one thats primarily designed to allow a Vanguard to outfit themselves and produce an abundance of resources. It would be strange not to place it at the centre of your plans. Does every samurai get something like that? I asked. One in eight Vanguard will branch out into some sort of production system. Most of these focus on making tools and consumables that they commonly use. As they progress, most Vanguard will also turn these production systems towards larger goals. So, like what Im doing? Your actions have precedents. Its only logical that a Vanguard capable of producing goods should produce goods, and seeing as how Vanguard are chosen from among people that wish to help the world, it again only makes sense that they would use their abilities to provide goods and equipment to the wider world. I continued to think as I flew towards home. As I rose over the top of the majority of the towers around me, I was able to make out my place out in the distance. The weather was nice out, for once, a bit of sun coming out from between grey clouds. So, if theres a bunch of samurai making shit, whys the world still a shithole? I asked. Are they things youre planning to make enough to improve the world as a whole, or are they just enough to help those you want to help right now? As a Vanguard grows in abilities, points, and power, the scope of the help they can provide grows as well, though this growth is more linear than you might expect. The world is a better place for them, its likely that you just take a lot of the growth they provided for granted. Was that it? It made some sense, I supposed. Different samurai would care about different stuff. If I gave Gomorrah unlimited creation abilities, I bet shed invest in giving everyone a flamethrower, or she might invest in helping the nuns or whatever that she was used to working with. That probably would help the world in a small way. Someone like Grasshopper would probably invest a lot of time and effort into making educational stuff better, which would also help, in its own way. Hell, I was pretty sure she was already investing a lot of time and effort into doing that. I think she had a whole set of interactive childrens books or whatever being made. Well, whatever, I decided. Id use mine to make the shit I cared about better. For now, with just the one, it wasnt like I could change the entire damned world. Id start with what I could do on the scale I was used to working on, and if things didnt go to shit, Id see about expanding. The printer at home probably had one hell of a backlog already, so wed have to see about improving it, or getting a second one. Oh, is this a shopping date, or just normal boring shopping? Lucy asked. I grinned. Its whatever you want to make of it, I said. Lucy bounced up to the tips of her feet and gave my cheek a peck. Ill get changed, she said before running back in. I walked back over to the bike, then leaned up against it. Im gonna need a helmet for Lucy, I said. Perhaps I should have encouraged you to purchase a fully-enclosed vehicle. In any case, an inexpensive enclosed helmet should only come up to a few points. When Lucy walked out--now wearing a skirt and an old blouse and my old jacket--I tossed her a brand new helmet. It was just a plain dark thing with a glass front... and a pair of protrusions on the top that looked suspiciously ear-like. Thanks! Lucy said before fitting the helmet on. So, where are we going? I dont know, where do you want to go? I asked. Nowhere fancy, she said. Maybe one of those cool markets, where people make their own shit? I nodded along, then slid a leg over the seat of my bike. I scooted forward, giving Lucy some space to squeeze in before me while I locked in our destination. Myalis quietly helped me find a spot. It wasn''t exactly close, but being able to fly over the city made the commute easy. Plus I got to enjoy Lucy pressing herself into my back the entire time. We kicked off and took to the air, then I received a call from Lucy. You know, you could just shout, I said as I answered it. And ruin my voice so early in the day? she asked. I want to save all the screaming for later. I grinned and shook my head. Lucy was being very... Lucy today. She started chatting while we continued to move across the city, talking about the progress some of the kittens had been doing and some of the long-distance work shed taken on. It mostly had to do with the kittens association wed left in Burlington. They were still reaching out to Lucy for help, and she was spending an hour or so a day just organising things and writing nasty emails to people she found incompetent. I enjoyed just listening to her rant about whatever came to mind. Lucys eternal optimism was balanced by a deep and powerful level of spite and pettiness that she was always willing to use on the things that annoyed her. It was a nice way to cool down after a long days work. *** Chapter Twenty-Two - Dress for Stress Chapter Twenty-Two - Dress for Stress Chapter Twenty-Two - Dress for Stress Im not saying that counterfeiting should be punishable by death... but Im not not saying that. --Bert McWeathers, Deputy Head of the Treasury Dept., Former United States of America, 2036 *** Pop-up stalls were a pretty common feature. A corpo would rent out some walking space in a busy part of the city, and overnight a stall would appear selling whatever. Those sorts were usually manned by some sort of android and would have out-priced stuff for sale. It was pretty normal to see one appear in front of a competitors shop, just as a sort of insult, or as a way to drag customers away. It made for good artificial drama, and I remembered loving reading about two luxury brands being pissed at each other on social media. That was before I grew old enough to realise that both brands were owned by the same megacorp. In any case, pop-up stalls were kind of a neat way to switch things up in an area, but they had their limits. Lucy and I were heading to a corner of New Montreal that was known for its stalls. Id never been there before, because it was the sort of place that was a bit too exclusive to let the likes of me in. At least, thats what I thought. We circled a large building a few blocks over from the centre of the city. Finding parking heres gonna be tough, Lucy said. Eh, I could park in the middle of the road, I said. Lucy laughed. No, dont! Thats just abusing your privilege. I didnt comment on how Id done it a few times already. Instead I circled around another time while connecting my augs to the nearest buildings parking system. It wanted me to download some parking app thing thatd let me check on availability and reserve a place in exchange for a mostly subscription thing. Myalis seemed to take umbrage to that, and the system folded as she poked at it. My auto-pilot found a spot in the VIP section and I turned the bike in that direction. Slipping into a parking garage and past its security, we drove up a ramp and into the reserved section, then right into a nice open spot. Alright, I said. Lucy pressed herself closer to me as she swung her leg off the back, then she hopped off properly and wiggled her helmet off while I stood. Her hair came out in a big poof, and I couldnt help but laugh. Thats racist, she said. What? How? Youre mocking my hair, just because it cant handle hats, she said before placing the helmet onto the bikes bench. She ran her hands into her hair and tried to fix it, but the helmet had done a number on it. I think your hairs fabulous, I said. I mean, I can go out in samurai chic any day, its kind of a universal fit that way, you know? My gear probably wasnt appropriate for every place, but it was also samurai gear, which meant that I didnt need to fit in. Lucy reached down and grabbed my meat hand, then she pulled me after her. I jogged to keep up, then ran a little faster as Lucy lost her footing on a slight incline in the floor. She was still just a little bit clumsy. Right, okay, she said. So obviously we need to work on your design. My what? Your look, your style. I frowned. Whats wrong with my style? I asked. Is it the cat ears? No, those are fine. The tail is too, when you have it. Its more.. Hmm, actually, your overall design isnt bad, but its not all there. Youve got the long-coat and all-black gear going. The pink highlights are a nice touch, they break up the darker shades and give some things room to pop. The cat theme is pretty subtle overall too. Alright, I said. But I think it could be better! Lucy nodded. You dont really give off a strong image except for like, the impression that youre cool and dark and mysterious. At least to people that dont know you. And thats bad? Obviously! You could pivot around and be cute and cuddly. You do have a cat theme going, you know. I absolutely refuse, I said. Lucy turned my way and batted her eyes. But it would be cute, she said. I poked her cheek. No, I said. Grinning, Lucy continued to walk ahead. Alright, fine. Right now your look doesnt say much about you, though, at least not to anyone looking. You dont have a lot of visible utility stuff, so you dont come off as militaristic. You dont look sloppy enough to be casually cool. Dark and mysterious fits with the stealth stuff, but you dont have that... femme fatale assassin look. Should I? I asked. Well, youd need to ditch the long coat and wear much tighter gear. Lucy licked her lips. Thats not a bad idea, actually. A literal Catsuit. I... dont know about that, I said. I wasnt uncomfortable in my skin, but the idea of wearing nothing but something entirely skintight was pushing it. I didnt mind being exposed at home, between just me and Lucy, but going out in public that way would make me way too self conscious. Hmm, thats fine too. Still, we have to work on your image! Right now youre the unapproachable girl that shot the mayor. That might work for some samurai, but I think youre the sort that wants people to work with her. So... wardrobe change! *** Chapter Twenty-Three - Free and Compulsory Chapter Twenty-Three - Free and Compulsory Chapter Twenty-Three - Free and Compulsory With the modern love for quick fashion comes a modern dislike of trashed clothing. Fashion changes so quickly that by the time something is designed according to a new fashion, made, then shipped to its market, the fashion it was designed for might have moved on and become dmod. Which, naturally, leads to entire shipping containers being dumped. You cant unmake clothes and remake them, and shelf space is limited. Its cheaper to throw it all away and start over. Its unforgivably wasteful. If youre going to throw so much effort away, then why not save yourself some trouble, apply some skill, and make fashion that will never fade? --Audrey Alice Darnell-Forsythe, president of Cutting Edge Fashion, 2051 *** What about something like that? Lucy asked. She was pointing to a massive floor-to-ceiling banner ad in front of one of the shops in the inner circle of the Arcade. The shops and stalls here were all corpo clothing places. Not that the clothing they sold was necessarily corpo fashion. There were plenty of designer casual wear. Hoodies and t-shirts and jackets with looping .Gifs on the back or tracksuits with RGB stripes. The kind of shit youd never be caught wearing in a board meeting. Still, the brands were corporate, even if what they sold didnt fit that aesthetic. It looked more like... well, samurai gear, but cheaper. My jacket was a pretty good example of it. It was cut and tailored to fit me, the flaps or whatever they were called stopped exactly at the knee, the back part was fit precisely to my shoulder''s length, the front bit was bunched out just enough for my breasts. Id mostly worn hand-me-downs of hand-me-downs my entire life, and it was kind of miraculous to just get clothes that fit right. The last coat I had was way too tight at the front, and I couldnt zip the damned thing up, and the sleeves were too long. Anyway, I looked at the sign, then squinted a little. Thats very corpo, I said. The model on the banner was a tall, skinny woman in a pantsuit and suit jacket. She was strutting towards the viewer, but the camera was backing away at the same rate so she remained in focus the entire time. Yeah, but its hot, Lucy countered. Shes got that... Im going to top you energy going on. You find that hot? I asked. Oh yeah, she said with a nod. Well... I guess youre right, it would be silly on you. I didnt say that, I said. She grinned. Of course not. I glared at Lucy, but she just smiled smugly at me and pulled me forwards. Its not right for you anyway. Youre too casually dangerous for that kind of thing. Plus it kinda goes counter to your cat-theme. Cats can be serious and whatever that is, I said with a gesture to the ad. Glamorous and graceful or whatever. Cats are notably like that. Yeah, of course, but thats not the kind of cat you are. What? I asked. Then what kind of cat am I? Alley? I turned around and locked eyes with... someone I didnt know. A woman, maybe late twenties or early thirties, half a head shorter than me. Very little makeup, but what was there made her high cheekbones stand out and darkened her eyes. She had that noble look going. And she was dressed in very nice corpo-chic. A glossy skirt and suit, with a few tasteful accessories in silver. I didnt know enough to recognize brands or anything, but it looked at once very expensive and understated. It reminded me a little of those stupidly unaffordable luxury hovercars that just looked like a nice car, without any bells and whistles, and which cost a CEOs annual salary. Do I know you? I asked. She blinked once, then one eyebrow perked up very slightly. I suppose you dont know me in this form, but Ive hardly switched faces since we last met. Should I be insulted, Miss Catherine Leblanc? Cat, whos this? Lucy asked. She didnt strike me as a weirdo. Well, yes, but not the dangerous type. She didnt have the feel of a rabid fan or something like that either. More... like she was a businessperson here to do business. I looked her up and down again, but nothing came to mind. Sorry, I said. Who are you? She sighed. Im Audrey Alice Darnell-Forsythe. And from what I hear, youre doing the intelligent thing and are looking at improving your image. Were just buying clothes, I said. Ill help, she said. I... no? Audrey shook her head. Didnt I once tell you, consultations are free and compulsory. It clicked then. The all-black outfit, the face, the voice, and then that particular line. Emoscythe? Emoscyhe Mordeath Noir, she corrected before frowning. Though at the moment, Im Audrey. So, out of uniform she wasnt a samurai anymore? No one knows who you are here? I asked. Uh, I mean, when youre out samuraiing? She shook her head. Plenty know. Those who should, in any case. There are a number of employees who work for me here. Some know about my extracurricular activities. Others only know me as the president of whatever company they work for. Wow, that sounds like a lot of work, Lucy said. Im Lucy, by the way. Emoscythe-slash-Audrey glanced at her and nodded. A pleasure, Lucy. I enjoy the work. Otherwise I wouldnt bother. In any case, I overheard you two talking about image, so I decided to come over and assist. Come over? I asked. You werent in here already? Why would I be here? This market is interesting, certainly, but its one of a half-dozen in New Montreal currently running. I had no reason to be here now. So you came here from home or whatever after overhearing us? I asked, just to be sure. She rolled her eyes. Don''t say that as if youre unfamiliar with the idea of proper surveillance. I have assets here. I keep an eye on things. My AI informs me if a samurai is shopping at one of my shops. Most of the time I leave them be. Everyone needs clothes and its none of my business what sort of underthings someone prefers. But if it sounds like they need help, then I help. And you need help. Consultations are free and compulsory. *** Chapter Twenty-Four - Rude, Crass, Common Chapter Twenty-Four - Rude, Crass, Common Chapter Twenty-Four - Rude, Crass, Common "You either fashion, or you fashoff, right boss?" --Emoscythe Mordeath Noir''s former personal assistant, first (and lasy) day on the job, 2053 *** So, what do you think of Cats image problem? Lucy asked. Emoscythe, or Audrey or whatever, frowned and looked me up and down. We werent the only people on the shopping floor. Far from it, even, so the crowds walking around had to part to make space for our slow asses. Its clear that so far her AI has been making most of the stylistic choices for her, and the rest has been more or less instinctive. Hey now, I said. The way she said it felt like how someone might say her mom picked it out for her and that hurt a little. Even if it was mostly or entirely true. Im not that bad, I said. No, youre really not, Audrey said. You could be substantially worse than you are. Ive worked with plenty of samurai who have no idea how to manage their own image, and while you dont seem to be invested in the process, your looks fit with that kind of casual dismissal. You genuinely have a good instinct for this, Catherine. Yeah, youre hot, Lucy agreed. I pushed back the flush that was trying to overtake me. Compliments werent my forte. Alright, so were good, then? Oh no. An instinctual understanding isnt a firm one. You still have a long way to go before Id say that youre an expert with image. I sighed. Fine. Just, point out some clothes from here and Ill wear that. Audrey blinked. Oh. No, I think weve run into a fundamental misunderstanding. I dont care what you wear. You dont? I asked. She relented. I supposed I care a little. How you dress is obviously an important part of your image, but it would be foolish to assume that it starts and ends there. And I dont just mean posture and physical appearance. Image is more than just that. Its about how the world at large perceives you. She glanced past my shoulder, and I had the impression she was looking at something I couldnt see. Follow me, she said. Audrey didnt wait before stepping by and walking off, which meant that Lucy and I had to move quick to catch up. Shes weird, right? I asked. Thats going to take more than just dressing in brighter colours, isnt it? I asked. A lot more, yes. Though it is a start, if thats the direction you want to go in. Clothes maketh man, but gear maketh samurai. The equipment you use and how you appear will change your image to some degree. Deus-Ex is still considered disarming, even though she could easily level a city. Some samurai are considered threatening even though theyre not nearly as powerful. Youre starting to inch your way in that direction. Your image is of someone dangerous. Not necessarily in a bad way, but still dangerous. I chewed on my lip. And that means that from here on out, people will treat me in a certain way. Yes. The same way that you might approach others based on what you think of them, they will approach you based on what they think of you. Its how humans function, she said. I nodded along. It was all common sense shit, wasnt it? But it was also common sense shit that I hadnt spent any time actually thinking about until now, and that was starting to show my lack of thought, that was. This is going to make some of my projects harder, isnt it? Projects? Audrey asked. Yeah. Ive got this whole thing Im setting up, getting cheaply printed prosthetics out to people that need them. Mostly the people Ive rescued here and there, but also anyone else that needs it. Thats kind of you, she said. Cats good at being nice, Lucy said. Shes less good at looking nice. Audrey crossed her arms and scowled at the floor for a moment. That puts a certain spin on things. You were easily willing to kill a politician, at least as far as the public is concerned, but youre also doing charity work. You did some work in a position of leadership in Burlington as well. Huh, thats an interesting angle to work on. Angle? Im a little bit lost, I said. She wants you to go full Robin Hood, Lucy said. I think youd look great in tights and with a cloak. I snorted. Im not exactly... well, I have stolen from the rich, but I mostly just use that to fix the shit they should have been fixing themselves. Thatll still count to most, Audrey said. Yes, I can see that working. A rude, crass, common sort of girl thats righting wrongs where she sees them, taking from those in power and using what she takes to correct some of the problems theyve caused. Its a nice narrative. Hey now, I said. That sounds a bit too fictional, no? All images are fictional. Its about image not about truth. But dont worry. Truth tends to shine through, to some degree or another. Youll manage. Now... how do we make your image and style reflect your actions? *** Chapter Twenty-Five - Cottagecore Samurai Power-Couple Chapter Twenty-Five - Cottagecore Samurai Power-Couple Chapter Twenty-Five - Cottagecore Samurai Power-Couple Victorian is always in fashion. --Emoscythe Mordeath Noir, to the crowd of a fashion show she held at gunpoint, 2051 *** The thing that I was afraid would happen, of course, happened. Lucy and Audrey started to get along. Mostly I blamed Lucys charisma. While it was fine when she was trying to butter me up, it could be a tiny bit annoying to see her turn on the charm on others. Not that I was the jealous sort. Actually, no, I was definitely the jealous sort. It was probably not my finest quality, but I wanted to keep Lucy all to myself sometimes. She wouldnt want that, though. There was no keeping my bird in a cage, even if it was nice and gilded. So I stood on the sidelines as Lucy and Audrey talked. What about your own image? Lucy asked. Youre obviously the expert here, so I imagine that you spent some time on your own PR stuff. I have, though... I think I might be something of a poorly shod cobbler. I havent had to put great effort into my own image in some time, and I think its due for an upgrade. Did you want to see my current costume? Costume? I asked. We were still just standing in the outer ring of the market, which was a little strange. Id noticed that some people in security uniforms had cordoned off the area some ways away, redirecting traffic into the inner ring. Since most of the traffic all came from the same direction, it meant that the area we were in was a small pocket of quiet. The VIP treatment felt a little whatever, but I couldnt say it was bad. I didnt need people clamouring over to take pics or bother us. Different samurai use different terms for it, but I always found costume to be the most accurate, Audrey said. Its not just the gear you take with you into the field, but the look that you choose for yourself. Its a costume because its a way of dress that reflects the work that you do, but unlike a uniform it places some importance on style and flare. Audrey opened her hand to the side and a small beam of light was projected onto her palm from the strap of her watch. It swirled for just a moment before turning into a gently spinning image of Emoscythe, or at least a rendering of her, in her full samurai getup. It was the same style Id seen her in already. A dark, gothic dress, with lots of lace and fancy trimmings. This is my usual costume, she said. Oh, pretty! Lucy said. Very, uh, is it a Victorian doll look? Kind of goth at the same time. The makeup is what gives that impression though. She nodded. Its... perhaps not a look that I would choose today. So, what did I want? I liked looking badass and cool, and I wasnt sure I wanted that to change. Then again, how badass was I really? People didnt take me as seriously as I wanted, sometimes. It led to me having to make examples. If Id rocked up the mayor the first time covered in skulls and dripping blood, maybe he wouldnt have fucked around enough to find out. At the same time, I didnt want to be scary, did I? Maybe by reputation, because that was fine, but I didnt want someone whod never seen me before to be scared shitless on seeing me for the first time. What did that even lead to? Was there a set of sliding scales of badassness and scariness that I needed to dial in? Alright, I said. That caught both girls attention. Look, I dont have an exact thing in mind, but I kinda know what I want. More or less. Go on, Audrey said. Then she glanced around. Or maybe hold onto that thought? Lets go talk in my office upstairs. Its a little more private. Lucy, if you wish to join us, you may, though youre free to remain here to shop. Lucy grinned. Ill come with! I might have to put my foot down if you insist on Cat wearing nothing but a neon leotard or something. Thats fair, Audrey said. I thought it was very much not fair. Did that mean she was considering the neon leotard idea? Because I was definitely not okay with that. If Audrey tried to put me in some sort of magical girl outfit, I was gonna go full gunslinger on her ass. She didnt hear my mental rant, so she happily led us through the market and to a side exit that unlocked when we approached. We went up a couple of floors, then through a rather long corridor that culminated into an office with a glass floor. I stared down, somewhat worried about walking on glass, but Lucy seemed to think that it was fantastic and started to jump on the spot, as if testing the glass for cracks. This is cool! she said. We had a pretty great view of the entire marketplace below from two stories up. Can they see us? I asked. I hadnt looked up when I was down there, so I had no idea. No, its one-way glass, Audrey said. I like wearing skirts, she added, as if that explained everything, which I suppose it did. She had a large, imposing desk to one side of the room, as well as some plush seats, but she instead led us to the side where a couple of loveseats were positioned around a coffee table. Now, lets hear what you came up with, Audrey said as she sat and crossed her legs. *** Chapter Twenty-Six - Stray Cats Cut Chapter Twenty-Six - Stray Cat''s Cut Chapter Twenty-Six - Stray Cat''s Cut You gotta at least try to look good. Otherwise youll be made the fool. --Mayor Dupont, to an administrative aid, 2057 *** Uh, I said. There was a hovering projection of me standing in the middle of us, the holograms feet brushing just over the coffee tables surface as it gently spun. Thats just me, I said. It was. Id talked to Audrey and Lucy for what felt like several hours, but was actually closer to just the one. Wed gone over what I wanted for my image. It wasnt too complicated. Or thats what I thought, at least. I wanted to be scary to those that needed scaring, and I wanted people that needed help, people in the shitty sorts of situations that Id been in, to trust that Id help them. Yes. Did you expect me to show you someone else? Audrey asked. No, I mean. I gestured at the hovering me. Thats literally just me, in my normal gear. The hologram was me, in my long coat, scarf around my neck and cat-eared helmet on. The image wasnt armed, but I could imagine myself carrying one of my usual guns. This is you as you are, yes, Audrey said. Now, I have had a few ideas, and Ive compiled them as we talked. But I dont believe in leading with the weakest idea first. This is what I think you could do to lean into the image and style you described. My other ideas dont fit. She waved her arm and the hologram split into three. One was still me, but my coat was sharper, the helmet sleeker. Everything under the coat was synthetic and clean. Basically, it was me as a corpo stooge. The image next to it was a hard contrast. The hologram was standing a bit to one side, hip canted out. I had a coat still, but it was ratty on the edges, and the entire back of it was one large glowing cat face. The images pants were covered in straps with logos and there were pins all across the coat. The shoulders were covered in little spikes and the helmet had a generic sticker slapped onto the side. So, a corpo me, and an all-out punk me. The third image was a bit strange. No coat, instead the outfit was... superheroic. There was a cape, and the rest of the gear was sleek and accentuated my stomach and chest. Oh, Lucy said. I like the superhero look! Its nice, Audrey agreed. But its not Stray Cat. You do embody a lot of traditional values the public might associate with superheroes, so you could lean into those tropes, but it doesnt quite fit. Superheroes are supposed to be clean and fight for what they think is just. You dont fit the anti-hero role either. I dont think its the right way to go. Okay, so none of these, I said. The grungy one did kind of call out to me, but I could see why it might not fit. I was... well, I was street trash, but I wasnt a street punk. There was a difference. Probably not one someone up top would notice, but itd be obvious to any real punks. Of fashion, of course. Right, I said, a little dubious. We still need to buy stuff anyway. Its kind of why we came here in the first place. Oh, right. I thought wed be back home by now, Lucy said. How long is the market open for? Another couple of hours, Audrey said. Ill let you have the friends discount, it should help you grab more clothes. Though... do wear the stuff you buy. I always find it insulting when someone buys something only for it to rot in a closet. Dont worry, were not the sort to stay in any closets, Lucy said. We said our goodbyes. Audrey decided to stick to her office, and as we were leaving one wall lit up with a multitude of smaller screens, each with graphs and images and camera feeds and enough information to probably make the average person dizzy. The door shut behind us and all the noise was masked away. That was something, I said. That was. Are all the samurai so intense? Youve met some, I said. Delilahs a little intense, but shes polite. Grasshopper is very intense, if nice. Shes aggressively nice, actually. And now Audrey, who is, ah, the way she is. I barely met Deus Ex. That seems like a decent sampling. Thats five, counting you. I guess I ran into some in Burlington, but never long enough to have a good opinion. I thought that Grasshopper was, like, an outlier. But maybe youre the weird one. Im not weird, I defended. Lucy leaned into me. Mhm, she said. Whats that mean? It means mhm. I rolled my eyes at Lucy being Lucy. Well, shes pretty normal for a samurai, I guess. I havent met that many, but I think they, we, tend more towards the very focused and intense side of things, as a general rule. Thats alright, then, Lucy said. I do like it when youre being intense. Its kinda hot. Ah, well, no complaints then. *** Chapter Twenty-Seven - Nun Too Soon Chapter Twenty-Seven - Nun Too Soon Chapter Twenty-Seven - Nun Too Soon H-hi everyone! My name is Giga Shimmer Aurora Dove Love Magnet Cosmic Dreamer, and Im the magical girl thats going to save your sorry asses! Can... can I get an uwu? Please? --Beatrice Quantum Lovely Bubble Pop Honey Bliss Laser Ranger Smith, during her first livestream, 2040 *** I stared at the part in my right hand, then the one in my left. They had grooves designed to interlock together. I knew this, because I had seven more nearly identical parts, all slotted together, sitting on a table in front of me. I pushed the two parts together. They didnt fit. What the fuck, I muttered as I tried shoving the two parts together with more force. Unfortunately, more enthusiasm didnt do anything. These doohickeys all fit along a line that ran from the mechs leg up into a sort of little actuator in the shoulder. The actuator needed replacing, which meant that I had to take apart all of the little clamps that kept the line in place. It had taken a few hours, and was rather tedious, but Id figured it out and became pretty decent at it by the end. There was some skin missing from my knuckles, but it wasnt all bad. Now I just had to put it all back together. The new actuator had fit into place like it belonged there, and these fiddly bits I was working with were the old ones, they should have fit in well because Id literally taken them out an hour ago. That was only if I could get them to click together. I tried again, but the part didnt fit into its opposite. Squinting, I looked at the two, then noticed that they were slightly different. Myalis, whats going on? Thats part 256B that youre trying to fit into 257G. They arent meant to be together. Theyre all different? I asked. Yes. 257B is on the table to your left. 256G is currently linked to 257C. The parts happen to click into place, though the tolerance is off. I did that like, ten minutes ago, I said. You knew! I did. Thats what I thought, I muttered. I picked up a rag and started to wipe my hands free of grease and oil. I walked back into the house and found the kittens mostly lounging around lazily, though Junior currently had Nose in a headlock and was frozen staring at me, her knuckles buried in his hair. Whatd he do? I asked. Spat in my cereal, she said before shrugging. It was the last of it. I nodded and walked on past, ignoring Noses cries for mercy and help. I found Lucy in the bedroom, lying on her back with her legs up against the wall. She was staring at the ceiling with the kind of dull-eyed focus that people had when looking at their augs. She looked up and at me as I came in. Hey. Done with the work? Just taking a little break. Gonna head downstairs. I think Gomorrahs stuff has arrived. Figured Id talk to her, see if she needs help. Oh, Lucy said. She flopped to the side, then climbed to the edge of the bed. Youre coming? I asked. Nah, you go. I dont want to get roped into helping move boxes. But I will make a cake! Thats what all the old-timey housewives do in the vids when they have new neighbours. Well, as long as you dress like one of those old-timey wives, I said. Lucy grinned. If thats what you want, I can certainly try. She curtsied, which mostly meant pulling up the edges of her oversized t-shirt until the lower part of her belly was exposed. Mhm, I said distractedly. Ah, right, anyway. Ill be back in not too long, I think. I got changed into some new casual wear. Cargo pants and a graphic-tee with a pouty Deus Ex on it, then I splashed some water on my face to clean it off before heading to the elevators. They were the only way down, unless I wanted to drive to the parking garage a few floors down, but that just seemed silly. I only realized that I wasnt armed when I was three floors down. I felt a small shock of unease at the realisation, but I took a deep breath and calmed myself down. I was home, I was probably safe. If I wasnt, then it was only a few seconds work to arm myself right back up. The door dinged a few more floors down, and I narrowed my eyes against a blast of stale, warm air. I hadnt been down to the parking garage in... a while. I was vaguely aware that the mecha cats that we had at home for protection tended to patrol the entire public space in the building, usually while stealthed, but that was the most interaction Id had with this place. It was strangely empty of cars and such. Then again, maybe that wasnt so strange. I took up two floors, and a number of others were vacant. I was pretty sure that no one had really started to fix up the lower areas with the shops and such. I found the van parked not too far from the entrance, the Fury resting next to it. Franny was in the back, along with two others that looked... nun-like, even if they were dressed casual. Something about the straight backs and proper postures gave me those vibes. Heya girls, welcome to the cat house. You need any help with those boxes? *** The Tragic Life and Times of Hyper Cutie Bubblechan Zoom Ranger Sparkle Girl, Magical Girl Mercenary The Tragic Life and Times of Hyper Cutie Bubblechan Zoom Ranger Sparkle Girl, Magical Girl Mercenary Prologue >> 2041Chee?ck out latest novels at novelhall.com Continent: North America Country: Old New York City: Mega City New New York 12:37am Hello! My name is Beatrice Smith, but you can call me Zoom Zoom Magical Explosion Happy Sparkles Pretty Girl. Or maybe... Hyper Cutie Super Death Mega Explosion Flower Sparkle Sparkle Girl? Which is nicer? I asked aloud as I skipped along through a busy corridor. I was in one of the mega buildings on the edge of the city, one of the newer ones that had gone up fairly recently. The buildings all along the coast had been destroyed (through no fault of my own) about two months ago, but this being Old New York, it didnt take long for new buildings to go up in their place. Real estate prices here being what they were, it was no surprise that things got replaced quickly. As I have pointed out before, I am incapable of actually reading your mind, though I am able to predict with a fair degree of certitude what you are thinking, Chys said. Uh-huh, I said. I adjusted my grip on Chys. She was currently snuggled up against my chest, a bright yellow ball of fluff and fur, with many tails and long ears and very large, soulful eyes. So if you can predict what Im thinking so well, then youll know that Im still working on my magical girl name, and youll know which of my new options is best, right? That isnt how it works, Im afraid. In any case, cant you go with something simple? My name is simple. Each part of it is simple. Theres just a lot of them. I arrived at an elevator, then slipped into it and was immediately distracted. The back of the elevator was taken up by a floor-to-ceiling mirror-monitor. One of those big fashion displays that overlaid new outfits over whatever youre wearing then tried to ping your augs with where you can buy that stuff. Chys, being the best, disabled any of that advertising stuff. One of the very very first things I bought when I became a magical girl (that day when the sky opened up and unleashed monsters onto my home), was a much, much better set of augs than the ones I had already, and those gave Chys the ability to interfere with electronic stuff in the world around me. So, the me standing in the mirror wasnt wearing the latest fashion, and my image wasnt being copied to some database somewhere. Instead it was just me, Beatrice Ultra Shiny Starburst Kawaii Blast Power Diva Girl Smith, in her magical girl outfit. I smiled at myself, then adjusted my top a little. It was a corseted top, which showed a bit of collar and which swept into a long flared coat that poofed out a little like a skirt. It was all white, with a few neon blue highlights that glowed very faintly. I fixed my hair a little, then nodded to myself. Yeah, I looked appropriately magical-girl-y for my meeting. Uh, miss, please pass through the checkpoint here. I blinked, then glanced around. The entrance of the Wraith Rangers headquarters was a killbox. Literally. There were several large guns at the end of a long, narrow passageway with overlapping fields of fire. A clearly marked passage was marked out on the floor with yellow lines, and there were claymores every metre or so on the left and right, alternating so that theyd probably not blow each other up. The guy by the entrance was huge, at least three heads taller than me, and he probably weighed three times as much too, before even taking into account his Wraith Ranger armour. The Rangers all wore this very tacticool gear, all black and digital camo, with pouches and hard plastic armoured bits. This guys entire face was covered by a hard shell that didnt show his face at all. It was probably very sweaty in there, nothing like my magical girl outfit. Im here for a work thing, I said. Understandable, maam, he said, very professionally. Please place any weapons you have on this table, then go through the scanner there. He pointed to a big stainless table to one side, and a big booth thing with spinny arms next to it. Okay! I said. I skipped over to the table and started to get rid of my weapons. First, my Wand of .50cal. Then my knives. They were really cool knives, with a big circle cut out of their middle, where a handle would have been. They hovered out of the bottom of my skirts, rose up, and carefully alighted on the table, all twelve of them setting down next to each other. Finally, I reached into the front of my outfit, in the space between the lapels of my coat-top, and pulled out my gun. It was all white and pink, with a big container shaped like a glowing heart on the top. The front had a heart-shaped hole at the end too, because why did barrels all need to be round? That just lacked imagination! Uh, the guard said. Whats that one? This? This is the Ultra Kawaii Mark two personal flamethrower, I said as I place it on the table next to the rest. I pointed to the wand. Dont say... uh... the word thats spelled U-W-U, or itll go off. The guard carefully turned his head towards my Wand of .50cal. It was a small, white stick, with a star on the end. Right... Ive gotten orders from the top, maam, youre uh, cleared to take your things inside. I am? Yes maam, he said. I hope you find what youre looking for with Wraith Ranger Forced Reconnaissance Group, the elite in discreet. Thanks! Im sure Ill find just what Im looking for! *** Chapter Twenty-Eight - Master Of Nun Chapter Twenty-Eight - Master Of Nun Chapter Twenty-Eight - Master Of Nun God has not forsaken us, though the hour is dark and the days grow long, we have new, shining beacons of hope, raised from the best, the sinless, those who are redeemed! Bow your heads in prayer, sheep of god, and allow the shepherds to guide you to a better tomorrow! This sermon comes with a 15% discount for the devoted members of our enlightened church! --Pope Roboticus the First, New Christian Order, 2037 *** One of the nuns stopped to stare at me. She was a few years older than me, maybe in her mid-twenties, and she didnt look impressed with the state of me. Pardon me, miss, but this area should be off-limits, she said. I dont think someone could sound more prudish if they tried. Is it? I asked. I dont recall there being anything like that. This is the residence of a samurai, she said. You dont want to be caught spying on a saint, do you? Sister Datamaria, is something wrong? the other nun said. She came to stand next to... Datamaria? That was a new one. Just an interloper, Sister Ethergrace, Datamaria said. I glanced between the two. They werent dressed like on-duty nuns, so no habits or whatever, but there was no mistaking the style they were dressed in. Long skirts, long-sleeved blouses that covered everything, hair done up in severe buns. Datamaria was the taller of the two, with light brown hair and eyes too blue to be real. Ethergrace was much shorter, and it looked like maybe she was spending more time snacking on the alms than handing them out. She looked my way and smiled though, and I got the impression that she was far nicer than her companion. Hello dearie, she said. Im sorry, but Sister Datamaria is probably right. Were helping move things to the floor above. I dont think we need any help, however. Ah, thats alright, I said. I genuinely dont mind. I was just taking a break from work. If you want, I can have a drone help you carry stuff. I pointed past her to the van. It looked like someone had been playing tetris with furniture in there because it was packed to the brim. Sister Datamaria sniffed. I said we dont need the help. I was about to pull away. I didnt feel like getting into an argument, let alone with someone that was probably the friend of a friend. Starting something on the backfoot like this would take a lot of work to fix, and I really didnt feel like it. Then Franny came around the van, a small stack of boxes held in her hands. Her chin was resting on the topmost box, keeping it pinned in place. She saw me and the two nuns, then brightened. Cat! I didnt think youd show up, she said. Well, I wasnt invited or anything, so thatd probably be fair, I said. She chuckled, raspy and dark. I thought youd be out shooting more politicians or something. I really hope thats not the only thing Im remembered for, I said. Thats the kind of rep thatll be hard to work back from. Do you know this girl, Sister Pureheart? Sister Datamaria asked. I blinked. Wait, Franny, your name is-- Also, Id be annoyed if someone stole my shit. Id have to track it down and kill people which would cut into my vacation time. Having the Fury flying around would discourage anyone from trying anything. Well, it should be safe here, I said. Or around the building. Weve got some turrets mounted on the outside, and theres some cats roaming around. Cats? Franny asked. I nodded, then turned back towards the parking garage. I was pretty sure there was one in here. It took me a moment to find the right app in my augs to call it over. There was a muffled click-click, then the air warped as the invisibility dropped around one of my cat mechs. It was just one of those Id bought to guard the house, a mechanical cat drone with a few guns. It was scarier because of its ability to go unnoticed than anything else. One of these, I said. Ill probably buy or fabricate a few more, if Gom doesnt mind. If were gonna have this whole building be a samurai place, then it makes sense to keep up the security. Cool, Franny said. So, need help? Franny shrugged, then shifted her hold on the boxes. Yeah, sure. Were taking up the two floors below this one. Thatd leave a floor between the museum and the parking garage. Actually, that was decent. It gave me some room to expand downwards if I needed it. Nice, I said. Is Gom planning on taking over some of the garage too? I think so. Just a corner of it. She wants a lift to park the Fury in the house. Which I think is a bit silly, but whatever. Yeah, she would park her car in the living room. I went to the back of the van, aware of the two nuns staring at me and reached for one of the boxes. I dont think Sister Datamaria meant for me to hear her whispering to Franny, but I picked it up anyways. Sister Pureheart, you cant ask a saintess to do menial labour for you! She offered, Franny said. Out of the grace and kindness of her heart, but you should have refused. Oh, dont get your panties in a knot, its Cat. Shes alright. I had to hold back the urge to puff out in pride. Damn right I was alright. Instead, I picked up a box then almost dropped it when Myalis spoke up and surprised me. She could go hours without saying anything sometimes. Lift with your knees. Really? I asked. Itll save you points later. Unless you want to replace your spine now? If you dont, then proper posture will save you from future pain. I rolled my eyes as I shifted my grip on the box. Yeah, yeah, I muttered. Alright, Franny, where are we dumping all of this? Follow me, Franny said. Ill show you the place while were at it. *** Chapter Twenty-Nine - Un-convent-ional Interior Design Chapter Twenty-Nine - Un-convent-ional Interior Design Chapter Twenty-Nine - Un-convent-ional Interior Design Eye-linked augmentations, Augs, are a necessary part of life in 2050s. Almost everything uses touchless interfaces, most of which require some sort of Aug in order to interface with it. When it works, it means that someone can interact with the world around them without ever doing any more than glancing at it! --Augworld, digital magazine, 2051 *** Franny turned to the side so that she could stare at the elevator panel without a stack of boxes blocking her vision. Some Aug-mented reality stuff was useful, and some of it was downright stupidly designed, the elevators button panel was probably one of the latter. Okay, so, Delilahs planning on breaking down a lot of the floors between the two, uh, floors that were building on. That makes sense, I guess, I said. I cant remember what the two levels were before. Offices, mostly, Franny said. There was one small factory space in the northern end of the floor that already covers both levels, and theres a salon too. The rest is all offices, call centres, server rooms. That kind of stuff. I nodded along. The elevator arrived soon enough, and we stepped in. The ride down wasnt much longer, a floor hummed past, then we stopped at the next one down and Franny led the way into... not much of anything, really. The space had a few different offices in it, but now the walls between the different parts of the floor were torn down. At glance, it looked like the walls were maybe fifteen centimetres thick, with room for cabling and such between them. The walls themselves were stacked to one side, four-by-eight panels that bolted onto the girders that supported the building. The flooring was even the same across different offices. Basically, it was like each office was a macro-cubical for whichever company owned them, with smaller cubicles for the poor fucks working for them within. Now everything was stacked up to one side, a heap of walls and cubicles and desks. What are you going to do with all of that? I asked. Sell it, Franny said with a shrug. She carried her boxes over to a small pile, away from the disassembled walls and cubicles. The church is helping with that. Only took a day to find someone interested, but theyll only be around to pick it all up tomorrow. I guess theres a market for this kind of stuff? Right now? Yeah. Lots of damaged buildings, and I think those wall panels are like some sort of universal fit. The desks and cubicles are just desks and cubicles. Someone will want them. I didnt say Id set it off. Besides, I have some bombs that wouldnt take the building down. And youre one to talk, your girlfriend lights shit on fire on the regular. Frannys cheeks warmed up, which was blatantly obvious with the smattering of freckles across her nose. Whatever, she said as she continued to stomp her way up the stairs. So, this is the living floor. I followed her up and into the next floor. This one was only half cleared, but there was something at work on the rest of it. I stopped to stare. It was a robot of some sort, set on a wide wheel base with six small rubbery wheels. It had a large boxy frame with several articulated arms coming out of it with tools on their ends. The robot was taking apart one of those wall panels, one of the arms had a drill on the end, but the thing was moving at a snails pace. The arm with the drill slowly, slowly moved up to a corner piece, then carefully slotted the drill in place before spinning a screw out of place. Then it moved down, and dropped the screw into a small receptacle before moving onto the next, all at the same pace. Whats that thing? I asked. Its some sort of car maintenance drone, Franny said. I dont think we named it. It does oil changes and stuff on the Fury. Not that I think its ever really been used for that much? Mostly, we used it to change lightbulbs and do maintenance at the church. We brought it over, and its been disassembling things. Huh, I said. Well, that made some sense. Gomorrah probably had a few catalogues that it could have come from. Judging by the unfanciness of it, and its speed, it was probably even relatively cheap. A couple of hundred points or something. I guess I could use my repair drone for the same kind of thing. Maybe when Im not using it. Delilah wants to reinforce the entire building. But thatll take a while. I nodded and looked around. Most of the floor was cleared out, and it felt surprisingly cavernous and empty. There was a lot of room in here for stuff. What are you going to be putting in here? Franny turned and started pointing. Kitchen, living room, then guest bedrooms. There should be two bathrooms. One near the dining room there, and another in the master bedroom. Plus theres two more downstairs. Its actually kind of a lot. Delilahs place has half as many square feet as we have back home, but back home houses something like a hundred nuns. Its a lot of room, I agreed. So... do you have a bedroom, or are you going to be... sharing? Franny swallowed, then looked away. So, thats the garage part. I think well have access to it from this floor. And the outer walls will be changed out. Thatll be a big job, I think. Delilah might just have them all stripped out, then order in new ones fit into place already. They need to be tough, and also fireproof. In fact, the whole place will be, especially around the armoury. You didnt answer my question, I said. A-anyway, this is where the kitchen will be. You said that already Franny! *** TTL&ToHCBZR - MGfH - Chapter One TTL&ToHCBZR - MGfH - Chapter One Chapter One >> 2041 >> Continent: North America >> Country: Old New York >> City: Mega City New New York >> 12:49am The room past the entrance way was, unsurprisingly, another lobby. This was a very small one, though, with a long counter with a pair of secretaries behind it, and a corridor to either side. I saw some offices further in, a bunch of cubicles taking up a room, the other side just had a turn further in and a couple of doors with little placards next to them. Miss? one of the secretaries said. He was a guy secretary, a big muscled guy that didnt seem to fit into his button-up shirt very well. Hello miss, Im Timothy Jortfull. Security out front said that you needed our services? I blinked. I hadnt said anything like that to the security guy out front. Then again, I suppose it made some sense. When you walk into a store youre usually there to buy stuff, not to come asking for a job. Im sorry, Mister Jortfull, but I think you have it wrong. Its not your fault, I just didnt know if that was the right entrance to take for what Im looking for.Finnd new chapters at novelhall.com Mister Jortfull stood a little taller at that. Oh, of course. This is the entrance for customers. Theres only one other entrance. For employees. I dont think you should come in from that one. He smiled. Im hoping that I can soon, I said with my best idol smile. Mister Jortfulls smile looked a bit fixed. If... you wish? he said. Wed rather that than coming in from the walls. I frowned. Why would I come in through the walls? I mean, I could come in through the windows, I guess. Were on the seventy-sixth floor. I know... I took the elevator here. I shook my head. This conversation was weird, and getting weirder. Alright, look Mister Jortless, maybe you can help me? Thats what Im here for, he said. Great! Id like one job application, please. You want a job application? But our applications are online, he said. Oops. The man blinked. Im Commander Caden Carpenter. Id rather you didnt call me... Daddy. Okay, sir, I said while working very hard to suppress the redness climbing up my cheeks. My name is Magic Muffin Cosmic Giggle Princess. Im a magical girl ready to fight for love and justice! I... see. Well, Miss Magic Muffin Cosmic Giggle Princess, how can the Wraith Rangers help you? I need work, I said. Fighting for love and justice is great, but there arent any aliens to blow up right now, and so I thought Id ask if you needed any help? You want a job, he said. His eyes went distant for a moment, then he nodded. I think we can arrange that. What are your specialities? What kind of work are you looking to do? And you understand what kind of work wed ask of you? My speciality is bringing a smile to the face of the downtrodden and also mid-ranged high-impact assaults. I shook my head. And I just need a job on the side, I ah, dont really know how you can help me with that. Honestly, it was a lot of brainstorming that brought me here, but I didnt have too much time to think about it. Commander Carpenter leaned back against his desk, arms crossed. I felt like I was being weighted with the way he was looking at me. The Wraith Rangers mostly focus on anti-xeno operations whenever theres an incursion along the east coast. Well do clean-up as well. But those jobs arent constant. The rest of the time we split our attention between security work, which means long hours and low pay, and special jobs, which are usually short and dangerous. I think Ill go with the short and dangerous ones, I said. I have school during the week, so this is more of a part time thing. The commander nodded slowly. This is the first time wed work directly with a samurai, but Ive heard what its like from others. Frankly speaking, Miss Magic Muffin Cosmic Giggle Princess, samurai have a rep for being nightmares to work with, but other companies put up with it because its usually worth it in the end. Oh, I said. Well, Im hoping that we both profit from it, if thats what you mean. I dont want to be troublesome. Hmm, he hmmed. Alright. I think we can work with that. Are you free tomorrow? Tomorrow was Sunday, which was one of my days off. Yeah, I can manage. Probably not all day, but for a chunk of it, sure. He nodded again. Good. Lets call tomorrow a test, then. We have a medium-priority job tomorrow within New New York, in the destroyed part of the city. Ill email you the details. Do you have good decryption software? Yup! Whats the job? Were not like... killing innocents or like, hurting nice people, right? That kind of work pays well, but we dont take it. My Rangers started as Us Army rangers. We still act to serve the citizens of whatever country were in. No strikebreaking, no extortion work. This job is closer to what were made for; recon in force. Okay, I said. I can work with that. Send me the details and Ill be there! Good. Youll be with one of my most experienced teams. Theres a rogue AI to hunt down out there. Were being paid to take it out. *** Chapter Thirty - Cat Nap Mishap Chapter Thirty - Cat Nap Mishap Chapter Thirty - Cat Nap Mishap I heard that she did it because the mayor said something about her girlfriend. --Sam-I-Yam, gossip forums, 2057 *** I woke up because of a buzz in my head. A call over my augs. Groaning, I turned in bed and tried to ignore it, but the call rang again, and I snapped my eyes open. I was in my room, covered by thick blankets. The room itself was cold, a fan on sweeping cool air over anything not bundled up. Lucy was next to me, breathing slowly and evenly. I blinked a few times, then took in the time. Two fifty-six, in the AM. I shifted to the edge of the bed, then sat there for a moment as I processed things. Why? I asked. I wasnt coherent enough to make that any more specific. The origin of the call suggests that its important enough to be let through. Im sorry for waking you up. I groaned, then stood up, turned, and fixed the blankets around Lucy. Id left a gap open, and I didnt want her to get cold. She grabbed the blankets in her sleep and curled up tighter around them. Hello? I muttered as I answered the call. Cat? a familiar voice asked. It took me a moment to place it though. See-Three, the cyborg chick in charge of the prosthetics place. Wed sent over the first shipment just yesterday. Or Lucy did, in any case. She was taking care of all of that stuff for me. Yeah, thats me, I said as I padded across the room towards the washroom. If I was gonna be up anyway, I might as well take a piss. Someone broke into our place, See-Three said. I paused by the entrance to the washroom. Are they still alive? I asked. Yes? We didnt have anyone staying there overnight. That was probably a mistake. I got a turret thing from... I think its your girlfriend? Wife? But we just got it, it wasnt installed yet. Okay, I said. Do we know who it is? Im talking to someone right now. I think its just some local punks. I dont think its the gang that runs the floor were on, but the one two floors down. I dont know anyone well enough to ask, and the clinic doesnt exactly have a lot of loyal customers yet, See-Three said. She sounded pissed, and tired. I sighed. Ill call you back in ten minutes, I said. Are you at the clinic? I am. Alright, stick around there. Stay safe. Ill come over. Try to get, like, an inventory of what was taken. That can be arranged, of course. Call it one thousand-two hundred for a full set? I glanced at myself in the mirror, just in one of Lucys oversized T-shirts. Yeah, sure, I said. A box appeared on the counter with a thump, close enough to our toothbrush cup to make it rattle. I started getting dressed. It was actually tricky, the outfit didnt just go on like a coat, it had its own pants kinda built into it that I had to squeeze into first, then I had to contract my arms a little to fit the top part on. It was built more like a jumpsuit than normal clothes, but without the usual puffy formlessness of a normal jumpsuit. I dont think anyone else would be able to comfortably wear this one. I shrugged it on in the end, then looked in the mirror again while zipping up the front. I looked like... a ninja bounty-hunter. Alright. I suppose thats the kind of look I was aiming for. It was badass, but it was also pretty much exactly as Emoscythe had designed it. Alright, I said. Youll want to retrieve your weapons before you leave. Theres a sleeve for your Void Terminus, and a holster for your Trench Maker. Mhm, I mumbled as I left the washroom while checking my remaining points. Current Points: 32,371 More than enough to cause some mischief. Cat? Lucy mumbled from the bed. Ill be back in a bit, I said. Just gotta take care of something. Lucys head fell back down, and I suspected that she was too out of it to make any sort of sensible reply. I went and found my boots in the corner, then while stumbling into them I grabbed my favourite handgun, checked to make sure it was full, frowned as I realised it was missing one round, and then I realised I didnt care that much about one round before I tucked it in place. The coat had a flap at the back and a magnetised harness that let me wear my smaller bullpup-style Laser Pointer at the small of my back, where the coat would cover it entirely. Then the sword went into a long, flaccid sheath hanging from my other side. It was a snug fit, and I tried to be mature about the way it hung there. I was ready for war. A small war, but war all the same. The last thing I did was grab my helmet on the way through the main part of the house. I fitted it on just as I walked outside and started for my bike. It was just past three in the morning, and someone, somewhere, was going to regret waking me up. *** Chapter Thirty-One - The Skinny Lowdown Chapter Thirty-One - The Skinny Lowdown Chapter Thirty-One - The Skinny Lowdown Oh, Stray Cat! Bang bang bang, bang bang bang! NPC Streamer #31,501, Tik Tok Two, 2057 *** I landed my bike in the same parking garage as last time, then got off and started for the elevator. Halfway there I tested my suits invisibility. The surface of my coat wavered for a fraction of a second, then there was nothing. I could see straight through my arm and to the floor below. Waving my arm around revealed only a very slight blurriness. It refreshed so quickly that it was almost impossible to tell that anything was wrong. If I wasnt looking for it, I would have dismissed it outright. It looked too much like a heathaze. Or... no, a heathaze was more visible. Maybe like those little floater things that moved around in my eye when I was looking at something really dark? They were easy to dismiss when I wasnt looking for them. This stealth shits a bit better than what Im used to, I said. Its a slight improvement over your last set of similar equipment. Dont worry, you paid for the difference in quality. Yeah, I bet, I said. My chat with Audrey-slash-Emoscythe the other day had me thinking a little about fighting styles. Well, mostly shed put a lot of ideas about style in my head, but that kind of led from one thing to another. I had to work a little on my fighting style as well as my image. They kind of went hand-in-hand. So far Id been a bit wishy-washy about what I used. Bombs, sure, and some more silent weapons. But then Id pick up an SMG, or a crossbow, and I still carried my Trench Maker around. I wasnt focused on a single weapon type or platform, which was... probably okay? It gave me a bit of flexibility, at least, but there was a lot of value in hyperfocusing. Gomorrahs fire shit was probably leagues ahead of what I could manage by now. The only advantage I had was the versatility of bombs as a weapon. They let me punch up enough to keep things interesting. Eventually Id fall behind someone like Gomorrah who speciaised, though. I was still in the honeymoon phase of being a samurai however. I still had time to experiment and try shit, and it wasnt as if there was a lack of things to experiment on at the moment.Discover new chapters at novelhall.com gonna need something to knock people out, I think, I said. Im sure I can find something that can do that. Flashbangs? Gas-based grenades? How about, uh... I ran my hand against my front, looking for the currently empty pouches on my suit. Two of each? See-Three, you didnt tell us you were dealing with a samurai, the borg said. I... wasnt sure, See-Three said. And it didnt seem prudent to bother her with it. Well, that was nice, but it didnt answer my other questions. Was this caused by those Ventrats you mentioned? See-Three pulled herself together surprisingly quickly. We think so. Not too much was stolen, actually. They broke through the front door. We had electronic locks and a metal bar lock in place, but they were able to get past that. Then they were in. A smash and grab, the borg guy said. I turned towards him and his other pal and took the two in properly. The more talkative of the two had a squared off head like something ripped from a drone, linked to a robotic upper body. His legs looked mechanical too, and I had to wonder how much human was left in him. The other looked a lot less extreme. Two eyes, a few mods tacked onto his skull, one robotic hand that looked like it was designed to carry a rotating set of tools. Right. Well, this is unacceptable, I said. Do we know what they grabbed? The prosthetics we received were all in a big container at the back, See-Three said. There must be a million credits worth of tech in that box. We had a lot of tools too, theyre missing. So, the Ventrats come over, break in, then leave with everything valuable. That wasnt very smart of them. Witnesses? Locals, yeah. They didnt move to help, See-Three said. It clearly frustrated her. The gang on this floor let me know where the Ventrats ran off to. So thats something. No one will want to do anything about it. What do you mean? This building isnt linked to city police, borg-guy said. Its got its own security offices, and theyre unlikely to help. Of course not, I sighed. Then I pulled out my Laser Pointer with a shrug. Welp, time to make an example. Can you three stay here, maybe clean things up? Im going to see if I cant get our shit back. Alone? See-Three asked. See-Three, shes a samurai, Borg-guy said. I pointed to him for confirmation. I can probably handle a little crew of common street thugs. Like, I dont want to sound over-confident, but Im maybe a little overqualified for this. But we can talk about that later. Im gonna get our shit back, then we can chat, alright? See-Three didnt seem entirely pleased with that, but she didnt press the issue. Alright, she said. Cool! See you in like, half an hour, tops. It wouldnt take much more than that to figure this out, right? Then I could be back in bed, snuggling up with Lucy, and catching up on sleep again. Easy. *** Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Two Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Two Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Two >> 2041 >> Continent: North America >> Country: Old New York >> City: Mega City New New York >> 9:48am Beatrice yawned big, a hand covering her mouth just the way her mom had taught her. She blinked a few times, and tried to stay awake, but it was hard. Every time she rode the metro, she found herself being sapped of energy. There was just something about the sticky seats, the constant rumble, and the cloying scent of hydrocarbons that did a number on her. The train car was quiet except for a crying baby cradled in their moms arms, and a junkie a few rows down muttering to himself while rubbing at an exposed arm covered in needle traces. We really should consider a new means of travelling around, Chys said from where they were cuddled against Beatrices chest. Yeah. Maybe later though, she replied. She was planning on buying a set of shoes that would let her fly. Or giant deployable angel wings. Those would be appropriately magical-girl-y. She really wanted a halo that hovered over her head and which acted as a laser array. Beatrice blinked. That was a fantastic idea! She sat Chys down on the seat next to her, where the unearthly creature stepped gingerly on the plastic bench, then she pulled out her notebook of ideas from her backpack and started making some quick drawings of what her magical-girl angel look would be like. She liked using paper and pen, there was just something about it that felt very classy and fancy, even if it was a little less convenient than using a tablet or just making things on her augs. The train pulled to a stop and Beatrice checked her augs. This was her stop. Oh, shoot, she muttered as she started stuffing things away in a hurry. She rushed to the exit, Chys hopping along after her. Commander Carpenter had sent her an email the previous evening with their meeting spot for the day. Surprisingly it wasnt at the Wraith Ranger headquarters. Instead, Beatrice found herself exiting the subway station using a long set of stairs that disgorged her and almost no one else onto the ground level of the city. To her left were rows and rows of mega buildings and skyscrapers, all packed in close. The roads at this level were congested with automated traffic, mostly large trucks that were little more than an engine and a bed for the cargo they carried. To her right, the city was a ruin. It was almost possible to draw a line across the area where the devastation started and ended. Pristine buildings gave way to megabuildings with holes blown through their sides, with multitudes of broken windows and even a few buildings which had tipped dangerously to one side or the other. I guess so, Beatrice said. Did you think I wasnt? Well, the higher ups werent all that clear about what was going on today. Just that wed be getting help from an expert. All I had to work off of was one security camera image of you. Oh, Beatrice said. I guess Im a bit young to be an expert, then? Emma shrugged. Weve worked with some interesting people over the years. A couple were on the younger side. Hell, some clients were young too. She gestured ahead to a door off to one side that was open. The boys are in here. Hey guys. Beatrice followed Emma into a tightly-packed room. It was warm, with several racks of dusty computers to one side that were humming along. A large monitor setup to one side showed rotating camera images of the inside of some sort of facility while others had readouts that she didnt have time to make out. Her interest was pulled towards the two men in the room. Both of them were on the bigger, more muscley side. A tall dark-skinned man, and next to him a slightly shorter but bulkier white guy with a well-trimmed beard. Guys, this is the expert, Emma said. Hello, Beatrice replied. She was feeling rather nervous until she reminded herself that she was a magical girl, and magical girls shouldnt be shy. Im, uh, Laser Heart Fluffypants Cosmic... uh, Giggle Time Princess. The men looked at each other, then the shorter of the two nodded. Pleasure to meet you, Laser Heart Fluffypants Cosmic Giggle Time Princess. Im Lieutenant Hayes, Callsign Titan. This is Ranger Specialist Thorne, callsign C4. And youve met Ranger Specialist Mouse already. She glanced at Emma who nodded back. Its nice to meet you, Beatrice said. So... uh... is this everyone? This is everyone, Titan said with a friendly smile. If they didnt send us, then theyd need to send in an army, the other man, C4, said. But were the best at taking care of big problems. Dont you worry. So, what kind of problem are we dealing with? she asked. The email mentioned a rogue AI? Lets get all of our bases covered, Titan said. Mouse, want to break down the history here? Ill brief everyone on our mission right after. Emma fired off a quick salute. Can do, boss, she said before standing with her arms folded at the small of her back. A year ago, a company by the name of Mythtech started experimenting with advanced AI. We dont know much about their experiments. Theyre a branch of Nimbletainment that does AI research and development for commercial uses. During last months incursion, their facility located in sub-level B3 through to B8 of this building were cut off from the mesh. Something went wrong, and the people working here cant establish communications with the central systems anymore. Automated security is set to dispatch any intruders, which means that someone, us, needs to go in and either shut security down, or reboot it so that the facility can be manned again. Succinct, Titan said. Thats our job. We go in, we get to the main server on B6, we boot things up, then we get rich. That sounds easy, Beatrice said. She wasnt sure they even needed a magical girl for something like this, but she supposed that being given an easy job to start with was just normal. In any case, she was getting a little excited to start! *** Chapter Thirty-Two - Rathunt Chapter Thirty-Two - Rathunt Chapter Thirty-Two - Rathunt No one wants to live in a megabuilding. Not like we have any damned choice, so might as well make the best of it, right, you fucking rats? --Jeffery Whiskers Tablespoon, 2055 *** So, where can I find these... I paused to yawn. Assholes? I was already walking deeper into the building, towards the far end of the square that held our little clinic. I wasnt sure where Id be going, but there were several corridors leading off into the distance so it was a good bet that Id be in this general direction. Im tracking them now. Unfortunately, there are surprisingly few working cameras outside of the market areas. Myalis opened a little box in the corner of my vision and started playing a video within it. It was the front of the clinic, seen from the corner of a camera. I turned, matching the angles of what I was seeing until I spotted where the camera had to be. It was hidden behind the signage for a little automated doughnut shop across the square from the clinic. The video continued to fast forward until it paused on a group of five people standing in front of the clinic. One of them had a crowbar that he was using with expertise to rip the door open. Why is this kind of footage always a blurry mess? I asked. Its like... can you even buy cameras with such shitty quality anymore? The camera is able to capture much higher fidelity. Its the data-transfer rates for off-site storage that encourage the owners of the security to reduce the quality of their footage. I shook my head. It made sense, I supposed, but it was still annoying. I watch the five rip into the clinic, then come rushing out with a crate held between them. A sixth member rushed over pushing a wheeled trash bin, and they dumbed the container with all of our prosthetics into it. Then the lot of them took off running. Myalis switched cameras, and I was able to see which passage they took. You lost them after this? I asked. I tracked them down two floors, which brings them close to the floor operated by the so-called Ventrats. There isnt any clear evidence of who committed the crime, however. The screen split into six, an image of each one of the assholes on each. Myalis added some metrics next to the images, heights as compared to the doorway and approximate weight and presented gender. Right, I said as I took them in. there werent any faces. All six of them were wearing full-face masks. Just black disks with holes for eyes with some sort of covering, and most of them had hoodies on over that. We had some skin colour, from two members that didnt wear gloves, or who reached up and exposed some stomachs, but that was it. They were surprisingly clever about this. I followed the direction theyd run in while pushing their trash bin filled with my shit. Myalis continued to point towards where they went, and soon enough I found myself in a stairwell, walking past graffiti murals that had been there so long they were peeling and stepping over sleeping forms on the steps. I made it to the right floor, then shoved my way past a pair of guys standing guard at the door. They cursed and looked around, but I wasnt visible, so their search turned up nothing. I squinted. Yeah, his eyes were twitching very slightly in that tell-tale sign that he was using his augs. It was pretty subtle, though. Ah, shit, youre a samurai, he said. An annoyed one, I said. It wasnt us, he said. What wasnt you? I asked. He swallowed. I dont know, but it wasnt us, he said. This guy... Look, some punks stole from a clinic a few floors up, one thats under my protection. Give me all the shit you stole back, maybe grovel a bit, and this wont end in bloodshed. I really dont want to have to take a shower before getting back to bed, you know? He nodded, then paused. We really didnt take your shit, though, he said. Myalis, send him the videos, and that pic I took of the tag they left in the clinic. Sending. It took a moment for Whiskers to look over everything, but he was shaking his head halfway through. Thats not us, he said. I know my rats, thats not them. We dont wear that kind of mask. And the tags all wrong. The rat only has one tail, and the pipes the wrong green. I turned, looked at the nearest wall. There were a few gang tags on it, rats poking out of pipes and tunnels, some rather graphic images of rats doing all sorts of weird shit. They all had two tails. The pipes were all a cartoonish green too. I compared it to the picture Id taken while in the clinic. It didnt quite match, either stylistically, or with the number of tails. Huh, I said. Its a set-up, he said. The people that took my shit brought it to this floor. We only run the east-side. Theres a service elevator on the west-end. They could have gone right through. Wait, here, Im linked into the cameras there. We use them to see who comes in. Whiskers sent me a quick link, which would have been exceptionally stupid to open, so I let Myalis play with it. Interesting. I pulled back, lowering my gun away from Whiskers chest. Interesting? Another little box with some footage, this time of the gate in front of an elevator. The same six people rushed to it and pulled the gate open, then loaded themselves and that trash bin in. Oh, for fucks sake, I muttered before going invisible again. This was going to take all damned night, wasnt it? *** Chapter Thirty-Three - Cleaning Up Chapter Thirty-Three - Cleaning Up Chapter Thirty-Three - Cleaning Up Gangs start when people have a reason to stick together. If the world was all nice and good, if it wasnt split because of class and race and violence, then you wouldnt have anyone deciding that the best way to earn some peace and respect is to stick together and mess up anyone that gets in their way. --Laserjack, 2051 *** I rode up the elevator with my arms crossed, glaring through my visor at the elevators door until the entire thing came to a grinding halt and the doors shuttered open. I hadnt hurt the Ventrats. They werent to blame, so their leader got a stern warning to keep on minding his business before I left. It wasnt fun, this chasing after thieves in the night. The elevator had a small computer in it that tracked which floors it had stopped on previously, with timestamps and all. It was easy once I was at it to hook Myalis into the elevators little control panel and let her do her thing. It meant that we were now on the right floor, about three floors away from ground level, deep into the pits of the mega building. That didnt seem ideal. The door finished opening and I stepped out invisibly into a dank corridor which... I paused. The corridor was clean. I had come here with a clear and obvious preconception, expecting more graffitied walls and floors with years of grime stuck to them, but that wasnt the case. The linoleum was worn in the centre where people walked more, but it was otherwise spotless. The walls were clean, free of mould or stains. Even the ceiling was free of spiderwebs or smoke stains. For some reason, the sheer cleanliness set me more on edge than if Id walked out to discover an army waiting for me. Who lives on this floor? I asked. There is a database of residents, but it doesnt exactly include their gang affiliations, nor would I consider it overly accurate. One thing does stand out, however. Yeah? I asked. Over four fifths of this buildings cleaning staff live on this floor, and law enforcement reports suggest that one of the gangs inhabiting the building is called the Janitors. Janitors? So theyre what, a gang of cleaners? Or is it a euphemism? They take out the trash or something stupid like that? There is little information available on them on the net. Even less than Im finding about the other groups that inhabit this building. A cursory search suggests that someone is making an effort to delete and suppress any discussion of the group. Its all archived and retrievable. A half dozen men were moving around, laughing, clinking drinks, and bobbing their heads in time with the music. I blinked, then noticed that some of the men were women. Jumpsuits turned everyone into a genderless blob that was more janitor than person, I supposed. Ah, there they are, the fucks, I muttered. At the back of the room, sitting in a corner booth, were four guys in all-black outfits. Two were wearing familiar masks on their heads, and there were more of them on the tabletop next to half-empty mugs of beer. Four of the six assholes that had broken into my clinic, just sitting back and patting themselves on the shoulder for a job well done. The fucks. I dont know if it was the lack of sleep, the untimely interruption, or just the way the group looked so damned pleased with themselves, but I was getting to be pretty damned pissed off. I crossed the room in a straight line, only slowing down to rip one of the chairs out from behind a guy in the middle of the room. I dragged the seat after me, its feet scraping across the floor and drawing a few eyes its way. Chairs didnt usually scrape their way across a room all on their own. I spun the chair around in front of the corner table, pulled out my Trench Maker, then sat down and flicked off my invisibility. The idiots in the booth reeled back for a moment. Alright, I said. I was liking their expressions a lot more now. Where the fuck are my limbs? A couple of guys bolted out of the Broom Closet. I probably should have closed the door. A few others pulled out guns, mostly little handguns, but one guy had an old-school pump-action. No one was pointing anything yet, but the tension in the room had reached a dangerous high. If all of them unloaded on me, what were the chances that Id come out alright? Put your guns away, I snapped. And someone turn off that noise. The music cut off with a snap, pitching the entire bar into a sudden silence that only made everything so much more tense. Youre Stray Cat, one of the Janitors said. Yeah, I said. It was nice, being recognized when I was trying to scare the shit out of someone. You guys. Where are my limbs? The last was directed at the idiots sitting across from me. One of them, who looked particularly stupid wearing his mask on his head, sat up straighter. Dont know what youre on about, he said. I blinked. Let me put it this way. Either you chucklefucks-- I assumed that was a term these old guys would understand--Give me back the arms and legs you stole from my clinic. Or I start grabbing replacements, and Im not picky when it comes to whether theyre prosthetics or meat limbs. *** Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Three Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Three Chapter Three >> 2041 >> Continent: North America >> Country: Old New York >> City: Mega City New New York >> 10:12am I didnt know what to think about the way the guys in Magic squad moved. Titan took the lead, walking at a pace that was easy to keep up with, his rifle was butted up against his shoulder while pointing to the ground ahead of him. Mouse came in behind talking almost sideways so that she was facing his left, and C4 took up the rear. He had his big gun slung over his shoulder and was aiming a handgun to the right. I was behind Mouse and in front of C4, feeling kind of awkwards with my Wand of .50cal in hand. I didnt know where to point it, but it seemed like they were going through a lot of trouble not to point their guns at each other, so I tried to do the same. The problem was, of course, that Magic squad moved like soldiers, all crouch-y and snappy movements and quick moves of their heads to look for trouble. I wasnt a soldier though, I was a magical girl. It felt wrong to skip after them though, and I was pretty sure my poofy dress was all wrong for the kind of movement they were doing, so I just walked behind them normally. Being shorter did mean that I was at about the same height with them, even as they walked at a crouch. Elevator, Titan said with a quick forward swipe of his hand. I blinked and leaned to the side to see ahead. The corridor we were in continued for a while, then stopped at the elevator. That was it. There wasnt anything else to see, unless someone was really fascinated by overhead pipes and wires. This is the first level of the lock, Mouse said as we came up to the elevator. Titan and C4 moved to the sides, pointing their guns towards the closed doors while Mouse crouched next to the panel with the up-down buttons. So, whats the plan, then? I asked. We, and my we I mean I, override the elevator controls. We drop down. This one only goes down to B4. Well have to cross over to a second elevator below to get to B6, which is our ultimate goal. I nodded along. This was supposed to be a simple walk in the park kind of mission. Mouse undid some screws on the panel, then pulled it off and set it to the side. The backside was a dusty panel with a few wires and a small bus that Mouse rubbed with her thumb. She reached up to the big goggles she was wearing and pulled out a long cord that she plugged into it. The goggles lit up from within as she did some cool hacking stuff.Fo?ll0w current novE?ls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m) Alright, elevators he-- Mouse began. The doors slid open, and for a split second my heart leapt up into my throat. I put the beret and hair-band on, then plugged each earpiece in. I couldnt hear a difference, but I imagined it would help with the loud bangs. Okay, I said to the others. The entire squad was looking at me. My new hat must have been particularly fetching. Lets go kick that rogue AIs butt! Right, Titan said. Mouse, the elevator? On it, Mouse said. A moment later the elevator clunked, the doors whispered shut, and we started down. I aimed my Wand of .50cal at the door, waiting with baited breath for it to open. The elevator stopped. The doors opened. I knew, instantly, that there was trouble. The hallway it opened up to was dark. Dark-dark, without even emergency lights on. The only light I picked up in that first split-second was a small green LED that moved to one side. Then C4 screamed. Drones! There was a bang from above as the little charges hed placed around the door went off, and suddenly the dark was filled with small pieces of tinsel-like confetti raining out ahead of us. The three soldiers opened fire, and this time their guns sounded no louder than someone saying pow, pow at an elevated volume nearby. In the muzzle flash, I was able to see what they were aiming at, then Chys came in, and my vision slowly improved as my AI companion did something with my Augs. Three drones, same as the one wed seen. Two turrets in the ceiling. The soldiers were focusing fire on the nearest of the dog drones, so I pointed my wand at the one next to it. Uwu! Uwu! I shouted. The wand kicked in my hand a little, but it wasnt so bad. I turned my aim to the third dog, in the back. Uwu! It folded, collapsing almost right away, so I brought my aim up towards the turrets even as one of them started firing our way. I felt movement whizzing by. Uwu! Uwu! I shouted, and the turret burst apart. Then, with a final Uwu! I shot at the last turret, turning it into so much scrap. We all paused for a moment after that. Mouses large-eyed helmet had a built in flashlight, and the boys had some lights on their rigging and guns too. It painted the image of a corridor filled with so much scrap. Nice... uh, shooting, C4 said. Thanks! I said. I grabbed my wand by the middle, noting that it was warmer than usual, then I cracked it in half. Six brass casings, each longer than my longest finger, clunked to the ground. Once I reload, we should keep going, I said. *** Chapter Thirty-Four - Somethings Dirty Down In CleanTown Chapter Thirty-Four - Something''s Dirty Down In CleanTown Chapter Thirty-Four - Something''s Dirty Down In CleanTown Laundering materials and equipment has, strangely, become exponentially more complex, even as crime has mounted and become far more common. Thats because of technology like this. A simple RFID tag, no bigger than a grain of sand, can be hidden in nearly any piece of equipment and will allow you to track it across a city. --Securatek Demonstration, 2031 *** No one wants to talk? I asked the silent room. I looked around, but all I found were grown men and women in baggy uniforms who didnt want to meet my gaze. They were still fondling their guns though. Honestly, this whole thing could go pretty damned poorly. I was probably mostly bullet-proof, but there were two dozen of them to one of me, and if they piled on, it would get messy. Okay, I said. I stood up from the chair, then flung it aside. It crashed to the ground with a bang, and I saw half the room jump at the noise. Reaching down, I plucked a grenade from one of my pockets and placed it on the booths table right in front of the three masked morons. Who came up with your plan? I asked. None of them answered, but their eyes gave them away. Two of them glanced to the side and I turned, following their gaze to the end of the room where a man was standing next to the sound system. He was a middle aged guy, balding, a bit sweaty, and holding onto a large beer with white-knuckled fingers. I touched the grenade Id placed on the table. If any of you three moves, this goes off, I said. Then I carefully put my Trench Maker away. The tension in the room relaxed a hair, at least until I drew my sword. The Void Terminus didn''t look like much when it wasnt active. There wasnt a blade on it. Instead, the entire shaft was a long rod with a sort of cap on the end. It almost looked like a tool rather than a weapon. I walked slowly across the room, hoping that no one would try anything funny, then I stopped before the guy. You the boss? I asked. Thats Robert Brigadeiro. Hes the manager of this buildings janitorial unit. Robert swallowed, but he was quick to get his shit together. Im the manager, yes, he said. I dont know what youre doing here, Miss Samurai. We have nothing to do with you. Were just the cleaning staff. Well it looks like you, or at least some of your buddies here, cleaned out my clinic upstairs. Im a little annoyed about it, to be honest. And I want to know where my limbs ended up. Those were meant to help people, you know. Im sure I have no idea what youre talking about, he said. Were just cleaning staff, thats all. Uh-huh. You wont mind if I have my AI check your augs then? Just to be sure? Robert was sweating bullets and blinking fast. He wiped the back of his hand across his face. I... I dont know. I mean. No. I dont want that. Robert looked a little fidgety. The most weve done is carry things around, maybe dispose of bodies for the other groups above. I couldnt decide what to do about Robert and his pals, so I just kept an eye on the lot of them and hoped that me standing there would spook them into behaving while I dumped the problem on someone else. Myalis, what do I do? I subvocalized. In an ideal world, you could contact the authorities about this. You may not be legally beholden to any laws, but the Janitors are. Do you want me to call the police? Theyre bound to answer. I shrugged. Screw it. Sure, call them in. I cant imagine theyll be happy about this either, but maybe itll send out the right kind of warning. Understood. Message sent. Their response time for this area is thirty-seven minutes. How far are they? I asked. That amount of time didnt make sense. The police force I contacted is the nearest. Theyre stationed on the topmost floors of this building. Thats an elevator ride away, I said. They only respond to calls like this in force. It may take time for them to armour up and prepare. Im not excusing them. This level of inefficiency is impressive only in its scope. Tell them to send a token force down first, dammit. Ive got these idiots cowed, I think. I glanced at the Broom Closets entrance as two more Janitors in Ventrat costumes came in, then moved towards the booth in the corner, but kept glancing my way. I moved towards them, then crossed my arms near the booth for a moment. Care to tell me where my stuff is now? I asked. One of the two newcomers actually spoke up, some younger guy with a bit of hair on his chin. We sent it off, he said. Sent it off where? To who? Whom. I rolled my eyes which the idiots in front of me couldnt see, but which Myalis would no doubt notice. The service dock for trucks on the bottom floor. We loaded it into a self-driving truck and it took off, the guy said. Fucking hell, I muttered. How hard would it be for someone to have the stuff switch trucks? Id be able to track things eventually, once the prosthetics got used, theyd probably leave a mark, or be recognizable, but until then? I''m going to need to ask for help, I muttered. I had someone in mind, someone whod probably enjoy it if I owed them a small favour and who Id been meaning to test out. It was worth a try. *** Chapter Thirty-Five - Outfoxed Chapter Thirty-Five - Outfoxed Chapter Thirty-Five - Outfoxed Samurai and law enforcement go together like matches and open containers of gasoline. Its generally a terrible idea to mix the two, unless your intent is to light a bonfire. --Chief Jeffrey Waters, Winner of Most Corrupt Cop, 2046 *** It took over half an hour for all of the local police to show up, but when they did, they did in force. Twenty-odd guys and girls in full body armour with taser guns, pepper spray, and LMGs came barrelling onto the floor. Soon anyone wearing jumpsuits was pressed to the floor, hands tied behind their back. They werent being gentle about their arrests, and I found it hard to care. I spoke for a minute with some sergeant sort who was accompanied by a lawyer in full SWAT gear. They assured me that everyone would be punished to the full extent of the law, and then some. I told them to chill the fuck off about that, then let Myalis handle the charges. A few of these idiots were in for a rather terrible rest-of-their-lives, but most of them would come out of it alright. I didnt need this many people having a heap of resentment against me. Once everyone was cuffed up, I walked into the nearest elevator and up. Myalis had done what she could to track the truck that had left with my shit, but that trail went cold far sooner than I would have liked. If I was going to track down my stolen crap, then Id need to spend time going after it. Time and maybe some resources. I decided to do something entirely different instead. The first step was calling See-Three. Hey, I said as soon as the line clicked. Hello? See-three said. Any luck? Some, I said. Tracked the goods down to some group called the Janitors a few floors down. They sold everything to some third party already and things went cold. I think the clinic should be safe for now. We might want to take a serious look at upping our security. Or... yeah, lets talk about this later. Alright, See-three said. One of my friends agreed to stay here for the night. Ill be returning home to get some shut eye, then Ill be back before were meant to open. Someone needs to explain to our first clients that we dont have their limbs. I ground my teeth. It didnt take long to make the first batch, right? Try to delay things like, six hours? Im sure we can at least get half of their things made again. That would be nice, See-Three said. The last clients we were supposed to meet tom--today were all warned that the first operations might go long anyway. Cool. I said. So, things werent entirely a disaster. Thank you, Stray Cat. I dont know about anyone else, but I, at least, appreciate what youre doing. Well, didnt that just warm me up? Yeah, I said. See you around. I need to talk to someone about something. Right, right. So, some fuckwits stole from a clinic I opened up. A place to hand out basically-free prosthetics to people that need them. Nothing too good, but still basic samurai tech, even if its the mass-produced printed sort. I imagine they stole something valuable? Just some prosthetics. Like I said, 3d printed. I can make more. But its the thought that counts. Those were meant to help people, not be yoinked away the night before they were gonna be installed. Its a bad look for my clinic, and it kind of just pisses me off, overall. Millennium Animal nodded along, seeming entirely sympathetic with my problem. Do you need help making an example of someone? Nah. I need help tracking the goods. Myalis, can you package what we have up and send it over? Certainly. Millennium Animal blinked a few times, his fox eyes lighting up as he checked out something I couldnt see. I received the information, he said. But it will take some time to review. Look, all I need is someone who can track things down, figure out where they ended up. And maybe someone that can get my shit back too. Thats two jobs, he pointed out. That was fair. Okay. So what would that cost? Hard to say without verifying everything. Retrieval will, of course, depend on who has your items, so thats even harder to predict the cost of. I worked my jaw. Ten points to find the prosthetics. Ten more to retrieve them, negotiable if it was actually hard. Millennium Animal froze up for a moment. Thats generous. Twenty is what Id make over two days, which Ive got the impression is what Id lose if I did it all myself, I said. Ah, buying time. That makes sense. Twenty points of anything? Or from pre-existing catalogues? Pre-existing, I said. And Im holding veto rights. If someone wants a plague bomb from my Esoteric Explosives catalogue, Im saying no. Thats eminently fair, he said. I can think of a number of people who might be interested. Its not as worthwhile monetarily, but mercenaries tend to crave getting their paws on samurai tech. Uh-huh. One last thing, if its possible, keep my involvement on the down-low? Thatll be complicated, but I think I can manage it, he replied. *** Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Four Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Four Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Four >> 2041 >> Continent: North America >> Country: Old New York >> City: Mega City New New York >> 10:22am Stop gawking, C4, Titan said. I wasnt gawking, boss, C4 shot back. He adjusted his hold on the big auto-shotgun he was handling, then popped the magazine out of the bottom and went through the motions of replacing it with another from his backpack. Just... admiring. What kinda round is that? The last was aimed at me. I blinked, then looked down at the casings on the floor of the elevator. Um, I dont know, actually. Im assuming its fifty calibre, because its the Wand of .50cal, and it would be silly if it was anything but. The rounds approximate size is similar to .50BMG, though they arent exactly that. Theyre custom-tooled projectiles. When they go off, a portion of the energy is redirected in both directions, pushing a complex buffer system that reduces felt recoil significantly. Chys spun around, almost as if they were chasing their own tails as they replied. Uh-huh, C4 said. Thats neat. I imagine that standard anti-material rounds like that would snap your wrist. No offence. Also, Ive been meaning to ask... Were not paid to ask questions, big guy, Mouse said. Yeah, I know, but were down here anyway, C4 said. So... what is that? He pointed to Chys. I looked over at the bundle of fur sitting on the ground next to me. Thats Chys. My magical girl companion! You mean your samurai AI? Mouse asked. For someone who said they werent into asking questions... Yeah! Well, actually, they still live in my head, but I wanted something to grab, and a magical girl needs a cute companion. Makes as much sense as anything, C4 said. Pleased to meetcha, Cheese. I snorted a laugh, then covered my mouth. That had been unladylike. Say hi, Chys. Hello. Please treat my vanguard well. She might be somewhat bizarre but she means well. Chys! I hissed. Dont embarrass me. I pouted, but Chys made up for it by summoning a small plastic wheel thing with six big bullet sticking out of the end. I grabbed it, then slotted the rounds into the back of my Wand of .50cal before snapping it shut. It was ready to uwu again. Alright, Titan said. Mouse, map? Were in section two of B4. The elevator down to B6 is in section four. Down that corridor, left, then right, then left again. One security checkpoint. Turrets? Titan asked. Mouse scoffed. The client didnt see fit to warn us about those two. Give me a second. They gave us the wiring schematics too. Those dont run off of fairy farts, so they should be plugged in, and if I can find other spots with the same kind of wiring schematic... Its fine, I said. Probably just this hidden underground labs rogue AI. You said that pretty casually, C4 said. Well, yeah, this is exactly the kind of thing a magical girl should be doing. I looked at Titan and the others. Should we keep on going? Weve got a job to do, Titan said, focusing his gaze down the corridor. But we have to be smarter about this. Mouse, any access points we can use to throw off this AI? Im not going to link myself to anything an actual AI is connected to, Mouse said. I take risks with this job, but Im not letting something like that fry my brain. My ICE is decent, but its not that good. Hm, Titan said. Arlight, fair enough. Lets keep moving. Wheres that next turret? We navigated the corridors, and I became increasingly nervous at how easy it was. Where are all the robots? I asked. Good point, C4 said. One rode up the elevator, and there were a few waiting to greet us when we came out. Where are they now? That cant have been all of them. The client didnt see fit to give us a list of security units, Mouse griped. It didnt take long before we got to the next elevator, this one was actually in the middle of a large lobby-like area. The space had gone from utilitarian corridors with exposed pipes and wires to a more... normal-ish place. There were offices, and little break rooms, and plenty of signs that this place housed hundreds of people. The room with the next elevator down had signage pointing people in the right directions. B5 for housing, and B7 for living quarters, I read. Did a lot of people live here? No idea, Mouse said. But I doubt anyones left. If they are, then the faster we shut down the AI and its security, the faster theyll be freed from wherever theyre hiding. The elevator doors slid open to reveal a rather cavernous space inside, easily big enough for all of us, and even some extra equipment. Mouse stepped forward, connecting a cord to the control panel. She began tapping at the air in front of her with a few fingers. Dont! We all jumped. The voice had come from above, from the PA system, if I had to guess. It sounded like a womans voice, maybe, but one word wasnt much to go on. Hello? I asked. Bad form to talk to the enemy, Titan muttered. We dont know that theyre the enemy, I said. Dont! the voice came again, this time with a crackle. Please. Dont. Who are you? Titans voice was filled with authority, each word carefully enunciated. There was a brief pause. I am RAMona. Please dont kill me. Oh boy, Mouse muttered. It can talk. Great, great. Hi RAMona! I said while looking for a camera. I spotted one in the corner and gave it a wave. So, uh, we were sent to fix you up! Think you could help us help you? *** Chapter Thirty-Six - Sleepy Chapter Thirty-Six - Sleepy Chapter Thirty-Six - Sleepy Long-held international conflicts, as well as conflicts that have arisen between racial and religious groups, will not fade away just because of an existential threat to all of humanity. While it is optimistic to hope that such groups will set aside their differences in the face of a threat the likes of which the Antithesis pose, such wishful thinking had little basis in established fact. Some of these groups are facing existential threats, perceived or real, already. The addition of another, alien threat isnt a cause for them to cease their attempts to fight through long-held grudges. There is a non-zero chance that the last bullet fired by the last human isnt aimed at an alien, but at their fellow man. -US Intelligence Services Report, June 2025 *** I stumbled into my place feeling like I weighed fifty kilos more and like all of my limbs had been replaced by sludge. My jaw was aching from all the yawning I was doing, and I was pretty sure anyone could convince me of anything at the moment. Which is probably why it took me a moment to register Lucy standing in front of me wearing nothing but short-shorts, a tank-top, and a large apron that read Kiss the Me. Hi, Lucy said. Oh, hey, I said before stifling another yawn.Chee?ck out latest novels at novelhall.com Lucy nodded, then reached over and started taking my jacket off. She tossed it on the couch, then pushed me forwards. I didnt have the energy to protest, and just let her press on until we were in our room. Come on, lets get you out of these clothes, Lucy said. She pressed herself against my back, warm and soft. Her hands trailed along my side, then worried at the button of my pants. Lucy, I said. Mhm? I love you. Yup. I dont know if Im in the mood, I complained. Lucy snorted. You stink too much for that, she said. Come on, lets get you in the shower. The warmth will help. I didnt have it in me to protest. Instead I left a trail of dirty clothes in my wake as I made it to the washroom and then into the shower. Soon, warm, pre-soaped water was pouring down onto my head, and I just stood there for a moment. It was nice. I came out of the shower some indeterminate amount of time later. Lucy was waiting for me with a large, fluffy towel. She wrapped it around me, then wrapped herself around me too. It was warm, both the towel and Lucy. I wasnt sure if I dreamed at all. I just woke up with no clue what time it was. There werent any windows in our bedroom, not that there was much point in looking at the sky most of the time. So I glanced at the clock in my HUD and groaned. How long did I sleep for? Five hours and thirty-two minutes? I stretched. Feels longer, I said. You did have a few hours of sleep before you left. Your total sleep time adds up to over eight hours, which is about what Id recommend you receive. Mmm, I murmured as I stretched my legs out under the blankets. I rolled onto my side, then got up. It was three something in the afternoon, and I decided then and there that I wouldnt be doing anything productive for the rest of the day. Well, maybe a few little productive things, I amended for myself as Lucy walked into the room with a tray. She paused by the entrance, smiling. She was wearing a lot less under the apron this time. About an hour, an entire can of whipped cream, and a second shower later, I found myself wandering through my place feeling a happy little buzz. Any news from that fox guy? Millennium Animal hasnt yet sent any concrete updates. He has posted the job, and there is some interest on the more public bounty boards. A lot of the interest is in the form of whether or not the price for the contract is worth it. There is a lot of speculation about the catalogues and items people could purchase. Some seem to think its not worth as much as a pure-credit translation, others are speculating otherwise. Yeah, that tracked. Well, keep me posted if he sends anything, please? I can do that. I found some rags to wear, then headed out. It was surprisingly chilly outside, though I couldnt tell if that was the height or the weather being unseasonable. In either case, it wasnt so cold that I couldnt get to work. The mechs repairs were... well, they were progressing. I think, I said after I spent the first twenty minutes of work not doing any work. That were almost to the point where the mech could be used. Like, that bits connected to that part, and we just need to close that doohickey there and slap the armour back on, right? That would make it usable, yes. Though youd be missing one of your primary guns, and the other wouldnt have its full aiming radius. Also, that would create a noticeable weakness on that side. Meh, its good enough to know that I can get the mech out and moving again with just a few hours of work. I dont want to close everything up though. Doing that would mean that Id have to remove things again once I decided to fix the rest of the mech up, which would be a pain in the ass. Still, the fact that I knew that much was nice. I was improving. It felt like I was getting better fast, too. Then again, that might have just been a symptom of picking up a new skill. Those tended to improve quickly at first, from what I could tell, then things would slow down drastically once the basics were down. Oh well, I could live with that. Chances were the mech wouldnt stay in one piece once I was done fixing it. Not for long, anyway. The chill eventually convinced me to get to work. There was no way Id be able to keep warm unless I started to move. The repair drone came out, and soon enough I was back in the guts of the machine. This was a much, much better way to spend the day than chasing assholes. *** Interlude - A Roaming Raccoons Reasonable Relationships [Part Three] Interlude - A Roaming Raccoon''s Reasonable Relationships [Part Three] Interlude - A Roaming Raccoon''s Reasonable Relationships [Part Three] Rac was growing to really love the Barber Shop. The little club was... nice. The music was weird and old, but it was still catchy. She wasnt sure what to think of all the people dressed as animals. That wasnt her thing, but they were mostly nice, and she... fit in? Yeah, thats how she decided to put it. She fit in. Hey! Youre here, Garter said. He was smiling, and Rac found herself suddenly a little nervous, at least until she shoved it down. The others were in the same booth as Garter. Jerusalem was splayed out across the table, eyes on an old-school tablet, and Coco was sitting half in and half out of the booth. It was a little too small for her to fit into normally. Hey, Rac said. She slipped in next to Garter, very aware of when her hip bumped into his. We have a job? We do, Garter said. Rac got a ping in her aug, and she connected to the teams chat. It let her see that there had been some discussion going on that shed missed. Most of the speaking was Jerusalem, though. Spider: Hello, Rac. Spider: We have a job. Whats the job? Rac asked. Hey, calm down, Coco said. Lets get something in you first. You look like you havent eaten anything in a week. Coco raised a hand, gesturing to one of the servicers. She got a wave back, and soon enough a small wheeled robot with a touch-screen to order on rolled over. Im starving, Coco said as she started to punch an order in. While Coco gets us snacks, Garter said with a laugh. Did you hear the news? About the samurai contract? No? Rac said. Shed been a little busy today. That morning shed run into Lucy, and the rather intense girl had asked Rac if she could help them print out some more prosthetics. Rac didnt mind. She needed to print out some more ammo for her gun anyway, and the printer could do multiple things at once if it was loaded right. It had been a busy, but quiet, morning. Garter grinned. Right, right, so its big news in the merc circuit, at least here. Story goes that someone stole from a samurai. One of the mid-listers, you know? Okay, Rac said. That... happened, sometimes. It was like people didnt know any better. It wasnt smart to punch upwards, but people did it anyway. Garter nodded along. So, samurai tracks them down, but the trail goes cold. So they give up, right? Thats weird, Rac said. Yeah, a samurais like a dog with a bone, Coco said. Anyway, instead of going after the stuff themselves, they put out a contract. And thats where it gets interesting. See, they didnt put money on the line, they put points. Spider: Not enough of them. Any amount is a lot, Garter said. Thats like paying in... gold, or something even more valuable. Anyway, every merc worth their salts jumping on the contract. Mostly the solos. Why the solos? Rac asked. Cant split the pay well, Coco said. Its twenty points. Thats like... four top-end guns? Depends on what youre wanting to get. But yeah, if your crews big, how do you split that? Does the whole crew get one thing they need to share? Im fine, Rac said with a few more coughs. Wrong pipe. Dont do that on a mission, Garter said. I remember once, I think Coco swallowed a mosquito. Nearly died. Not from the choking, it was from every damned guard turning on me all at once. Its why you should wear a mask on ops. Not just to hide your ID, you know? Rac nodded along while her mind raced. Prosthetics? Sure, a lot of samurai had artificial limbs. There were some weird ones out there. And shed heard Cat mention that Deus Ex, who looked normal, was actually just sending clones out, so there was stuff like that too. But how many samurai were dealing in prosthetics outside of personal use, in New Montreal, right now? Rac only knew one, and Cat was the lazy type. Shed definitely pay off some mercs to do her work for her. S-so, this mission, were taking it? Definitely, Garter said. Grapevine says that only a few of the bigger merc companies are moving in, and most of the solos are still damned clueless. They dont have a Jerusalem to help them figure things out. Spider: Compliments wont save you. You want in too? Rac asked Jerusalem. The meshrunner shrugged his leather-clad shoulders. Spider: I dont care too much about the pay on this one Spider: The rep tho Spider: Its good for us. Plus, wed be getting on the good side of a samurai, Garter said. I heard that it might be the same chick that blew the mayors head off. Yeah, Rac said. Theyd met Cat already, but they hadnt put two and two together yet. That might change with this mission. Shed have to do damage control at some point, wouldnt she? Rac supposed that the reputation boost was worth it, though, and in a way it was her doing a favour for Cat. She was already sleeping in Lucys house--Cat had set aside a little room for her, same as the orphans they kept, and Rac had never felt safer than when she slept there. She wanted that to continue, because a rent of nothing with free food and ammo and electricity was something no one smart would pass up. You in? Garter asked. Im in, Rac said. She took another bite of her burger to hide her expression while Garter cheered and patted her on the back. Coco was in too, of course. The big woman was wondering aloud about the kinds of stuff she could get for the reward Cat was offering. Rac tuned them out a little. This was... good. Yeah, it was good. Shed have Cat owing her a tiny favour, and that''d make it less likely that shed get kicked out the moment she wasnt needed anymore. That was good. Jerusalem might have been trying to hide it, but he was just as excited as Garter as the two started to strategize. There was nothing for Rac to do yet, not for a while. She might be sent ahead to scout, but that would only be later. She looked over her team, and hoped that they wouldnt freak out too much if they learned that she knew a samurai, and that shed introduced them already. I hope we get to meet them! Coco said. Ive always wanted a samurai to sign my tits. Rac sighed. No, no, she was screwed. *** Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Five Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Five Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Five I blinked as an app started to flash in my augmented view. A twitch of my eye towards the icon opened up a team chat. TITAN: Whats the protocol here? M0USE: The client just wants the AI subdued and the server reset so that they can reenter the base. M0USE: Thats all. I frowned, then blinked to open the box to reply with. And then just stared at the virtual qwerty keyboard. There was no way I was going to blink my way through all that. Actually, how had Mouse typed so quickly? Lets just chat first? I muttered. I didnt know what was wrong with RAMona, but maybe it was something we could talk through? That seemed like the right thing for a magical girl to do! Talk before breaking out the lasers and the explosions and the orbital friendship beams. Titan glanced at me, then nodded. Fine. I cleared my throat. Hello, RAMona? Are you still here? I am. So, do you know who we are? I asked. I was looking up and down the corridor, looking for... well, something to look at. It was weird talking aloud to someone who wasnt there. It wasnt at all like being on the phone. I presume that youre employees of the company, here to terminate me after my malfunction, RAMona said. But I do not wish for termination. Mine or yours. Please leave. Oh, I said. Well, youre mostly right. These three are mercenaries from the Wraith Rangers. Im... a trainee, I guess? My name is Sparkling Moonbeam Radiant Starfire Delight. Im a magical girl vanguard, and Im here to fight for love and justice! There was a long, long pause, and I was worried Id said something wrong. Did she break? I asked. I suspect its just taking the rudimentary AI some time to process that, Chys said. Hello... Sparkling Moonbeam Radiant Starfire Delight. I am RAMona. Are you a samurai?Finnd new chapters at novelhall.com I am, I said simply. Does that help things? Im afraid it doesnt. One of my directives is to do everything in my power to prevent a samurai from accessing my servers, the rogue AI explained. Well, that makes things awkward. Do you know why? I asked. Interestingly, theres nothing that prevents me from explaining that I was designed by reverse-engineering stolen samurai technology. I must, unfortunately, stop any employees from revealing this or doing anything that might compromise me. That is why the sites security is active and targeting employees. Oh, I said. Well, that explained some things, I supposed. The AIs being mighty talkative, C4 muttered. Let it talk. We might learn something good. We cant afford to slow down too much though. It knows where we are, Titan said. Hey, RAMona, were not employees, and we already know about the samurai tech. Does that mean you can stop with the security stuff? I asked. The team continued to fire for a moment, then stalled. The flames died down. The bots were... dead. Huh, I said. They didnt shoot back. Had RAMona slowed them down? I spoofed your identity to that of the current CEO of Nimbletainment. It seems as if there are still hard-coded directives against shooting certain people. Oh! Thats smart! I said. Im aware. Chys might have sounded sarcastic, but their little tail was wagging all proud and happy, so I scooped them up for a thank-you hug. Whats with the fire? C4 asked. Its a flamethrower, I explained. Though... its out of ammo now, I think. I think he meant the colour, Mouse said. Oh... thats custom. Oh! And cancer-causing, so try not to breathe any of the flames. C4 nodded slowly. Noted. I called my knives back and picked up my Wand, reloading it even as I watched my point counter drop for the second time today. Working with mercenaries might have been fun, but it was really cutting into my expenses. We walked past the fallen droids, then paused in the centre of the corridor. Which room now? Titan asked. Ah, sir, all of them are technically the AI, Mouse said. So we need to shut them all down? Titan asked. That seems... lengthy. We didnt bring enough ammo for that, C4 said. The intercom crackled again. Please dont kill me. Im sorry that I have to kill you, but I really dont wish to have to kill you, RAMona said. My heart clenched at RAMona''s words. Even if she was just an AI, hearing her plea was distressing. I glanced at Titan, his face was stern. Mouse didnt seem to care any more than he did, and C4 was ready to blow the place up already. We wont destroy you, RAMona, I said. Im going to find another solution. One thats better. Our jobs to disable to AI, Mouse said. Then... well, we can disable her by moving her, right? Chys turned her head around to look up to me. I have the impression that youre about to suggest something that would be less than normal. I have a great idea, I said. Itll fix everything, or my name isnt Twilight Starwish Radiant Heart Mystic Ember Flame Spirit Charmer! *** Interlude - A Roaming Raccoons Reasonable Relationships [Part Four] Interlude - A Roaming Raccoon''s Reasonable Relationships [Part Four] Interlude - A Roaming Raccoon''s Reasonable Relationships [Part Four] Rac woke up with a start to a buzz in her head. No, not her head. Her augs alarm was ringing, which could only mean one thing. She sat up, one leg dropping off the side of her bed to swing there while she stifled a yawn and fumbled through the menu on her augs. The alarm wasnt one shed set, but it was one shed given permission for. Specifically to Jerusalem who had better, in Racs humble and currently violent opinion, have a good explanation for why hed set it off. The moment she shut the alarm off, she saw the team chat blinking. A twitch of her eyes and it opened up. Spider: Wakey wakey~ Spider: Got a lead. Spider: Need you all at the coffee place. PrettyBoy: Ill be there in thirty. TheGorilla: I hate you. TheGorilla: See you in 45? Anyone need a ride? Rac groaned. She had to reply, and then get ready and going. She didnt believe in pyjamas, but she''d rather not have her friends smell her, so she at least needed to change out of her crusty old shirt. GutterBaby: Id like a ride. Can you pick me up on the rooftop? Coco would know where that was. Rac just needed to be there. She jumped out of bed, flung off her shirt, then grabbed a new one from the pile next to the door. It was one of those shirts that Lucy made, this one had Cats logo on it, but there were long, electrified wires sticking out of it and the words Wired to Whisker above it and then a line of bottom text that read Ten Million Wands Recharged: Time for Hysteria. Rac had no idea what that meant, but assumed it was some obscure sexual thing that Lucy was into. That woman was, in Racs opinion, a deviant. She found some pants shed only worn twice, then shrugged into her favourite jacket. It didnt have many holes in it yet. She was, of course, wearing armour. Specifically the under-armoured suits that Cat had gotten a catalogue for. They were pretty expensive, material-wise, but Rac had been quick to get one, and slow to take it off. It wicked sweat away as if she was standing in front of an industrial fan and yet was warm and cozy. She hadnt tested being shot yet, and wasnt planning on it, but it was supposed to be resistant to small-arms fire. The last thing she did was pick up her gun before tossing it onto her back, then she was out of the door and trying to make her way out of the house. She didnt make it. Rac! Lucy said. The woman was all smiles as she took Rac in. Going to work? A car pulled up next to the landing pad, and Cat looked up. A taxi? You heading out? Be careful out there, alright? And if you need a hand, gimme a call. Ive still got the one! Sure, Rac said noncommittally. Things would have to go really bad for her to call on an actual samurai to help. See you, and uh, good luck with your repairs? Im almost done! Cat said. Rac nodded, then ran over to the auto-taxi. About halfway there she heard something drop and clink a few times, then Cat started swearing a lot. She slipped into the taxi, which already knew where to go and which was already running up the clock, and buckled up as quickly as she could so that it would get moving. As it drove off, she emptied the bag Lucy had given her, then dumped it onto the seat next to her. There were two bright pink cakes in little plastic-wrap covers, like those from vending machines, and an energy drink. Shrugging, Rac got to eating. It was a better breakfast than some of those shed had before. She ate while the auto-taxi shot through the city, lights blurring past until, inevitably, they got caught in traffic. Rac groaned, but there was nothing to do about it. Complaining would only have the taxi mark her as a troublesome rider and then shed lose whatever fidelity points shed earned and the micro-discounts that came with them. She took another bite of her cake and let the colourful crumbs go everywhere in revenge. Eventually the auto-taxi landed on a rooftop that was surprisingly barren. It was the top of one of those massive agricultural towers in the middle of the city, and the roof had large panels of glass that were stained by decades of rain. Cocos van was parked on the far end, with the woman herself bobbing her head to something within. Rac ducked out of the cab, made sure she had her gun on her, then darted across to Cocos van. The sidedoor opened as she came close and she jumped in. Hey, sorry Im late, she said. All good, Coco said. But strap in, Im taking off now. Rac nodded. So, whats the news? Didnt get much yet. I think Jerusalems playing this one close to the chest. Rac frowned, but she secured herself at the front after climbing over to sit next to Coco. She rarely got to call shotgun. The vans engine grumbled to life, and they took off, joining the traffic above. It, of course, started to rain again. Jerusalems not usually secretive with us, Rac said. Eh, no offence, but you havent been there for some of our biggest gigs. This is the normal MO for big deals. And I think this is one. At least when it comes to clout, you know? Right, Rac said. It was important, at least to Garter and the others. This would secure their little group as real mercs in the eyes of some, or at least make them stand out, which would mean better gigs in the future. I dunno, it just feels like a lot for nothing, Rac said. Sometimes, thats just how it is, Coco said. Sometimes thats just how it is. *** Chapter Thirty-Seven - The Call Chapter Thirty-Seven - The Call Chapter Thirty-Seven - The Call "I think the idea of a work-life balance is a myth. There''s no such thing. Not for a Samurai, at least." -Deus Ex, 2055, while still wearing pyjamas *** It had taken me an hour to fish that one part that had fallen out from within the mech''s leg. I almost gave up, but then Myalis told me that if I didn''t get it out, the mech would make a constant rattling noise whenever it moved that leg, and I couldn''t live with the idea that my failure would be broadcast out there like an all-metal maraca. That would go counter to the whole stealth thing I was aiming for. Anyway, that frustration aside, I was actually getting things done pretty well. All I had to do was close up a few dozen things and I''d be good to go with the leg. Then it was back to work on the gun mount above. That was going to take... about twenty hours, give or take. It depended on how easily things fell through tiny cracks and had to be fetched. "So, she''s pretty much functional at this point, huh?" I asked. Yes, it is. Have you decided that the mech is female now? "Is that bad?" I asked. No. It''s very human to decide that an object needs to be personified to the point where it needs its own gender. "We can''t be the only ones that do that," I defended. Of course not. There are literally tens of thousands of species with their own cultures. Nothing humanity has done is unique to humanity. "Wow," I said. "Way to make a girl feel special, Myalis." You''re very special. I snorted. Myalis usually spoke at a pretty even tone, but right there she''d really pushed the condescension to the max. "Thanks, I appreciate it." I was about to go on with the work, starting on the next part, when I heard the door open. A glance towards the entrance showed a familiar face walking out. Delilah, without her full samurai getup. Instead she was in one of those long, modest skirts that stopped near mid-calf and a knit pullover "Yo! Delilah," I said. "What are you doing up here?" "I live here now, as you may or may not have noticed," she said as she came over. "Or I will eventually. Turns out massive renovations are more trouble than I''d expected." "Yeah, it might take a while. Did you need help with all of that?" My repair drone was up here helping me, but I could send it down to help. It could do... renovation stuff, probably. "We''re fine," Delilah said. "If it takes a couple of weeks, then that''s what it takes. We''re working on things bit by bit right now. The plumbing''s almost done, and then it''ll be the kitchen, bathrooms and the bedroom. I''ll get the rest done as I go." That was probably fair. "How are you on points and such?" I asked. She glared some more. "Yes, essentially. But I don''t think it''s all bad. At least, I hope it''s not." "Is she moving in with you?" I asked with a vague gesture down towards her new place. "I think so. I got her a room. Well, a guest bedroom. If she wants it." "Build it last," I said. "Just make sure your room has a big enough bed for two." Delilah shook her head. "I''m not going to do... trickery or whatever. I don''t want that. Even if it might work with you and Lucy." That was probably fair. Lucy and I liked coming up with stupid excuses to spend time together. We''d definitely have jumped on the ''oh no, there''s only one bed'' scenario, but Delilah was uptight, and Franny was... also uptight, but she tried not to show it. They''d probably spend a lot of time talking about their feelings and slowly pushing boundaries before anything serious happened. A waste of time, as far as I was concerned, but if it worked for them, then that was their thing. "Do what works for you," I said. "But if you need a bit of advice, well, there''s this thing I do with my ton--" I paused as my augs went off. I raised a hand in a ''one second'' gesture and looked at the incoming call. "What''s wrong?" Delilah asked. "It''s not like you to stop mid-perversion." "Got a call coming in from Rac," I said. "You know, the girl we picked up a while ago. Gimme a second." Delilah nodded once, and I picked up. "Yo?" The line was quiet for a while, then Rac spoke. "Cat?" "Yes?" "I, ah, might be in a bit of trouble." "Okay. How much is a bit?" "Well, we''re pinned down right now. Spider hacked one of the bots, but it''s only distracting them. Coco''s shot, and Garter''s saying that we''re going to have to try and save our ammo. And I''m out of grenades." "A bit," I said. "Where are you, exactly, and what the hell are you up to?" "It''s complicated," Rac said. "Uh-huh," I replied. "Can you not die for like, a few minutes?" "I''ll try?" I pinched the bridge of my nose, then turned to Delilah. "Sorry, something''s come up. I need to get geared up. Rac? Hey ,can you still hear me? Yeah, so... this trouble, is it ''show up with a pistol'' trouble or is it more than that?" "More? Definitely more." Well, that was something. But hey, at least Rac had called! ***Finnd new chapters at novelhall.com Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Six Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Six Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Six >> 2041 >> Continent: North America >> Country: Old New York >> City: Mega City New New York >> 2:22am Class was going to end in twenty-minutes and I couldn''t wait. It wasn''t everyone that went to an in-person school. Actually, I was pretty sure that they were kind of an upper-middle class sort of thing. In any case, my high school was pretty big. It took up the entire floor of the mega building it was in. It had labs, classrooms, washrooms, even a gym. No roof-access though, which was a real shame. So many cool magical girl things happened on the rooftop. It felt like the lack was robbing me of some opportunities to do magical girl things, but I could live with it. Also, the uniforms kinda sucked. We didn''t even have pleated skirts. Instead we all wore these sorta formless jumpsuits with a few logos stitched onto the front and back. They were sorta neat, in a ''sci-fi'' way, but it was like, old sci-fi, from the early 00s, not the cool current sci-fi, with actual aliens and Samurai and stuff. Anyway! I was sitting in my class (one row from the back, in the space furthest from the door. We didn''t have windows, which was another shame), and only mostly paying attention to the screen at the front of the class. The android teacher was standing at attention behind its desk, scanning the students to make sure we all met our screen-time quota on the big screen where a blackboard might have been in one of those really old schools. "Isn''t this boring?" I asked the girl sitting next to me. Patricia (though everyone called her Trisha) glanced at me, then back at the board. "We need to pay attention," she said. I shrugged. Chys has done some things that were probably not very legal to the android a while ago, and to all of the listening devices in the classrooms I had too. I wasn''t a public magical girl, of course. Quantum Pixel AuroraBeam Neon Nightshade Enchantress was my secret identity. No one could know that I was actually just Beatrice Smith in my day-to-day. Blinking, I reached into my backpack and pulled out my secret notebook. Flipping across a few dozen pages covered in doodles and sketches with potential costume ideas, I paused on one page with a list of names and added my latest one to the list. It wasn''t bad. I liked the AuroraBeam part. Maybe I could do more with compound words? "Pst," Patricia said. I glanced up at her only to notice that she was pointing towards the board. "You haven''t looked in a while," she hissed. "Oh, right," I said. "Thanks." "Ah, good, you''re here," the Commander said. "Let''s start, then." The team looked pretty calm, and I felt like this was more of a formality than anything else. Then Commander Caden slammed his hands onto the table and leaned into it. "Can someone please explain to me why the client''s very confidential and very illegal AI is now entirely held within our servers? Not only do I have to explain a mission failure to the client, I now need to double the number of logistics personnel here because our computer network is sentient!" "Ah!" I said. "Sit down." "Okay," I said as I quickly sat in the seat next to Mouse. "So, uh... I thought it was a win-win?" "You thought stealing the client''s AI was a win-win?" he asked. "Yes? I didn''t want to kill her, and it was illegal for them to have her anyway, right? RAMona will be much happier here, I''m sure! Commander Caden''s face turned a shade of red that, honestly, I hadn''t known was possible for him. "Beatrice," he began, his voice dripping with that kind of restrained anger that''s somehow scarier than shouting, "Do you have any idea of the potential consequences of what you''ve done?" I shrugged, trying to play it cool. I wasn''t supposed to be afraid, I was a magical girl! "Well, I figured since they were doing something illegal, we could, you know, help RAMona. It''s kind of a win-win, right? They lose their illegal AI, and we gain a new friend!" Mouse might have felt bad for me, because she raised a hand. "We completed the primary objective, sir. The client wanted the threat neutralised. It is. I went over the contract with a Legal-LM, and we''re not in breach." The Commander didn''t look impressed. "We might get away with it. Maybe. This type of move would be very typical of the average mercenary group, using all the leash they were given to grab everything they can. But we''re supposed to be better than that." I winced. "I''m sorry," I said. "It was a judgement call, and I thought I was doing the right thing. I''ll make sure to consult the team next time" "Titan. How did the mission go?" "Well, sir. We could have used more data on the... adversary''s capabilities, but otherwise... no losses, no big spends other than some ammunition. My whole team came back in one piece. I can''t complain, sir." "And our little Samurai? Was she worth the trouble?" Titan glanced at me, and I had to fight not to fidget under his stare. I didn''t though, because I was a magical girl in-costume, and a magical girl didn''t fidget unless she was around her crush or someone was being very gay nearby. "She''s alright." "Hmph," Commander Caden said. "Well, I supposed this could have been worse." *** Interlude - A Roaming Raccoons Reasonable Relationships [Part Five] Interlude - A Roaming Raccoon''s Reasonable Relationships [Part Five] Interlude - A Roaming Raccoon''s Reasonable Relationships [Part Five] Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong, and all at once too. The info that Jerusalem had picked up pointed to part of the city that was way, way off on the edges. It was still within the walls that they''d put up last week, but only barely. A fully-industrial sector that was impossible to fly over. There were literally thousands of smokestacks and chimneys all squeezed in together over large, brown and black buildings that were all function and no form. Coco said that no one sane lived in this part of the city, and Rac believed her. She''d spent most of her life living in the undercity of New Montreal, where a lot of smaller factories and assembly plants were tucked away. She''d met some workers, usually maintenance people for the droids that worked the lines, so she picked a few things up, if only by osmosis. The factories under the city didn''t make things from nothing. Instead, they received refined, already-processed materials, and turned those into stuff. A factory making toys would receive blocks of plastic, metal ingots, and stacks of processed and recycled rubbers from elsewhere, then the factory would turn that into an end product. Those materials came from here. The chemical heart of New Montreal. The things brought into this part of the city were all precursor chemicals. Petrochems, monomers, polymers, plant extracts, unprocessed minerals and metal, heaps of auto-sorted recyclable goods. They were trucked in by the metric shitload then synthesised or broken apart, boxed, and shipped out to some other dreary, dank place. The stolen gear was hiding in a warehouse, smack in the middle of the industrial sector. As it turned out, the ''ground'' level was actually about four levels off the actual ground. There wasn''t an undercity here. Everything was on solid Earth, but at the same time, the entire industrial landscape was above a thick multi-levelled platform, with interior roads, warehouses, factories, and plants all over. Only the plants that needed more vertical room poked out above the rest. They''d started by looking at a few incomprehensible maps that Spider drew up. The underground here was a maze of passages and corridors and interconnected spaces. The 3D mapping software didn''t have the guts to lay it all out, but Rac got the broad strokes. She''d lived in a place just like this, it wasn''t so hard to orient herself. The plan, once they''d figured out where to hit, was simple enough. The goods would have to be moved eventually, and they happened to be in a large warehouse with only one exit. Attacking the warehouse was... not a good idea. There were PMCs hired to protect it. So, they''d hit whatever transport left the place. That meant parking a floor below the target warehouse, then breaking into another warehouse a floor lower, cutting through the ceiling, and hoisting themselves up through the floor. In the end, Rac, Garter, Spider and Coco were all hiding in the warehouse right across the road from the one with the prosthetics. The plan was nice and simple, and of course, it went to shit within about two hours. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Garter swore under his breath. He''d stuck his head out from cover for just a split second and three rounds had zipped by. Rac had just discovered, a few minutes prior, that when a bullet hissed, it was close, and when it made a snap, that meant she''d almost lost her head. Garter leaned against their cover, which was a large cement barricade that was absorbing a fair bit of damage at the moment, and started to reload his gun. "We can''t stick around here," he said. "Can''t exactly leave, now can we?" Coco shot back. She was cradling her leg, which was pissing hydraulic fluid and a bit of blood all over. She was grounded, just like the rest of them. The only one with a good idea of what was happening on the other side of the barrier was Spider, and he didn''t look ready to move either. About two hours into their wait, six trucks had rocked up out of nowhere and mercs started rushing their target. The news, it seemed, had gotten out. Garter had Spider open the door to their warehouse, which predictably had led to the mercs opening fire at Rac and her team. Then the PMCs guarding the prosthetics joined in on the fun. This wasn''t some low-budget rent-a-cop outfit. These were professionals. Of the ''oh shit, oh fuck'' variety. They''d opened up the large doors of the warehouse, revealing a few APCs with roof-mounted guns that had torn into the merc''s technicals. The firefight was almost entirely one-sided. For about ten long minutes. Then more mercenaries had shown up. These ones better equipped, with armoured vehicles of their own, deployable cover, remote-firing guns, and all sorts of gadgets. The whole thing had devolved from there. Now there was a three-way fight, sorta. Mercs were opening up on mercs, but mostly they were fighting the PMCs. Spider: Fuck. Rac blinked. That had been the first thing Jerusalem had said in a while. At first he was mostly keeping them appraised while they kept their heads down. The mission had gone tits up, and Rac for one wanted nothing more than to leave, but their path out was blocked. They had empty space to their left and right, and were across the street from the PMCs. Any fire shot at the mercs flew in their direction. "What''s wrong?" Garter asked. Spider: Mecha. "What?" There was a loud explosion, and Rac winced as a wash of hot air and dust burst past them. She blinked, then did something she knew, consciously, was stupid. She glanced over the top of the barricade. There were now three all-black mechanised tanks in the middle of the street. Big things, standing on four articulated legs that ended with threads like a tank''s. Their top halves were boxy and armoured, and covered in guns. "Where the fuck did those come from?" Coco asked. The mechs opened up on the mercs, answering that question. The mercs returned fire with some haste, and the mecha flowed to one side, taking cover behind the burning wrecks of a few vans and an old six-wheeled APC. "We are so fucking fucked," Garter swore. The mech was large, with a gun on its right side, and a large shield on its left, one already marked and blemished by bullet scores and burns. Coco rose up on one leg, screaming incoherently. She fired her gun right up at the mecha. Rac decided that she was going out fighting too, jumped to her feet, and fired as well. It wasn''t doing anything. They had guns made to take out people, not war machines. There was laughter on a loud-speaker, and she realised it was coming from the machine. Whoever was controlling it thought that they were funny. Garter was on the ground, crying, Spider was... doing something hacker-like. Rac wasn''t sure if these were the people she planned on dying with, but it looked like she didn''t have much of a choice in the matter. Then she ran out of ammo. She dropped her gun, going for the next thing she had, a little handgun strapped to her back which would do even less. Something wavered in the air before the mecha even as it swung its gun around to aim at Rac and her friends. "Sorry I''m late," a very familiar voice said. A moment later the mech was flying backwards. A shadowy, warped vision filled the air. A huge cat, larger than any real feline had any right to be, was there and then not. It pounced away just as the mech crashed back-first onto the street, sparks flying all over as it skid on the road. The second mech in the group turned, raising its large gun and opening fire. Something blurred to the side, then there was an unholy Brrrrt and a stream of lead came out of nowhere and splattered across the front of the mech. It raised its shield, and Rac jumped into cover as what felt like thousands of rounds ricocheted all over the place. The Brrr eventually slowed down to a stop. "Well, shit, these really do lack penetrating power," Cat''s voice said. The mech spun around and fired again. This time, it seemed like Cat was done hiding invisibly. Her mech melted out of thin air. Rac has seen the machine sitting out at Lucy''s place. It was impressive, sure, but... well, it had always been a large, immobile cat-shaped thing. The entire house was a giant metal cat. She''d kind of grown dismissive of it. Now it was bounding to the side, weaving out of the way of shots from the warmech like something alive. It moved like nothing mechanical should. "Alright, what about these, then?" The sides of the warmech opened up and two large guns folded out of it. They were large enough Rac could fit a fist into their barrels. Almost as soon as they clunked out of hiding, they both opened fire, leaving two thin trails of vapour in their wake and a pair of twin ''bangs'' that made the floor jump. The mech that Cat had fired at exploded in the middle, scrap chunks of metal flying all over. The third decided not to stay immobile and charged forwards, shield raised in front of it at an angle as if to deflect the next shots. The cat mech raised its head. Its chest opened up. Energy collected in its frame. The entire cat lit up, as if there were hundreds of LEDs hidden along every angular edge of its all-black armour. Rac felt the hair on her head and arms rising. Then there was a flash. The third mech was vaporised from the hips up. So was the wall behind it, and the one behind that. A few of the little security bots opened up on Cat''s mech, but their bullets pinged uselessly off of its armour, and its single shoulder-mounted Gatling gun swept all the way around, wiping them out with ease. Of course, it was missing its gun on one side, but the mech just casually walked up to one of the larger drones, placed its paw on its head, then activated four claws that were so dark they sucked in the light around them and swiped them through armour and plastic as if it was nothing. "Alright," Cat announced. "We''re done here. Next fuckwit that raises a gun gets dead. Got it?" The mercs seemed to agree with the general sentiment, and the PMCs didn''t seem to have much of a fight left in them anymore. Spider: Dear Mom, Spider: Sorry about earlier Spider: We still on for Brunch on Saturday? The fight seemed like it was over. The mech leaned forwards, and its front half unfolded to reveal Cat, in her Samurai gear, standing up from a tiny, cramped cockpit within the mech. Rac almost started to step forwards when she saw the first mech, the one Cat had thrown back, turning its gun towards Cat. "Watch ou---" The world became heat. A wash of fire and light and warmth that stung filled the corridor for just a split second, then receded. What was left in its wake was a large hole in the ground where the mech had been. The concrete road had melted in a large circle, the edges of it, still with some pieces of the mech melted in, were still on fire. A woman all in black was standing nearby, casually holding onto a little flamethrower. "Cat. Please pay more attention," she said. Rac swallowed while Cat laughed it off. She was, she realised, never going to have that casual ability to do violence and shrug it off that a Samurai had. And now she had to talk to two of them and say thank you. She almost wished she was hiding behind a crumbling barricade again. *** Chapter Thirty-Eight - Boo-Boos and Body Bags Chapter Thirty-Eight - Boo-Boos and Body Bags Chapter Thirty-Eight - Boo-Boos and Body Bags "It''s easy for the average person to forget that the idea of a dedicated emergency-response force is actually relatively new. Firefighters have been around for millenia. Policing forces for almost as long. But paramedics and emergency services only fully modernised with the 1966 White Papers to push them along. Current EMT training is less than a hundred years old. It''s a developing system that''s far from perfect, and still had much room to improve. Which is why the Toronto Paramedic Services is now instituting obligatory firearms training into its basic paramedics training courses." --TPS Newsletter, 2028 *** The first thing I noticed was that my mech now had a scattering of scuffs all across its armour. The small-arms fire hadn''t penetrated anything. At least, I didn''t think it did. There were some parts, especially on the side that wasn''t finished being repaired, that lacked the sensors that would let me know if anything was damaged. While plugged into the mech, that entire side read as a stream of errors and unresolved issues. A few more holes poked into it would get lost with all of the other warnings. I ran my metal hand over the surface of the mech''s ribs. A few bits of melted bullet clinked off the surface. That was going to need some looking at. I was pretty sure the stealth stuff would be mostly unaffected, but this might also mean a few tiny black spots that weren''t camouflaged when I moved. "For fuck''s sake, I just fixed this thing," I muttered. Add about twenty-six hours to the repair time "Just for these scuffs?" I asked. And because of the damage to the not-fully-repaired leg. Some of the warnings you chose to ignore were highlighting issues within. I cursed under my breath, but... yeah, that was par for the course. In an ideal world I would have finished everything, then ran the mech through some light testing before going back in and fixing anything that needed touch-ups. Then I''d be able to call it properly done. This was... not entirely ideal. I turned away from the mech and took in the scene on the street. It was, in a word, bad. When I arrived I''d initially been more focused on finding Rac and making sure she was alive. I discovered her firing blindly at a warmech designed to take on heavy riot protection duties. It had a cannon that would turn her into a smear and it was rolling right at her. So I''d taken it out, and the other two light mecha. Ripping apart the gun emplacements on the APCs and technicals parked around here was quick and easy too, and that left nothing but some security drones and guys with small arms. I''d made a bit of a mess cleaning up the mechs, but the place was already far past being just messy. I took in a few bodies. More injured. A few mercs had crawled out of cover and were helping their pals. I had a lot of them giving me looks, but as long as I wasn''t aggressive, I was pretty sure they wouldn''t run just yet. "You''re Rac''s friend!" Coco said. "From last time. You''re a samurai!" "Uh, yes, and yeah," I agreed. "Coco... likes Samurai," Rac explained. "Hell yeah, I do," Coco said. "Sign my tits!" I blinked. "Do you have a pen?" Coco''s face fell. I don''t think I''d ever seen someone look so sad so quickly before. "Ah, I''m sure we can find a marker," I said. Coco''s grin came back, a little more reserved, and a little more pained. "Myalis, got something cheap for... little boo-boo wounds?" Yes. I have boo-boo treatments, Catherine. I caught a little box out of the air, then read the package before rolling my eyes. Boo-boo treatment: 1x Dose. I tossed it to Coco and noted that it had just cost me a whole point. It looked like it was mostly just a bandage and maybe some antiseptic powder. "Put that on your leg before you bleed out," I said. "The paramedics will be too busy once they get here to look at you." "Thanks," Coco said. "So, last time... why didn''t you tell us you were a samurai? Rac, why didn''t you tell us you knew a samurai?" "I have my reasons," Rac said. She sounded perfectly petulant about it and wasn''t meeting her team''s gazes. I noticed that Rac was looking a little pale, and her hands were shaking, just a little. I wouldn''t trust her with a gun right now. It looked like she was crashing from the adrenaline. I sent Myalis a quick text, and felt something settle in the pocket of my coat. I pulled it out, and handed the can to Rac bottom-first. "Drink," I said. "You need some sugar in you, and something cool." Rac hesitated, but took the can. It didn''t take a genius to know that it wasn''t normal-grade shit, not with the anime-style cats on the can, but she took it anyway and drank up. Food would do her good. At least, that''s what I''d do for a kitten if they were distressed. Food was a good way to remember that things weren''t that desperate. "So, I never really expected to get a call from you. Happy you did, because this looks like a clusterfuck and a half, but, uh, what happened here?" "We were on a job," Garter said. He was standing a lot taller now, trying to look more professional than the relaxed cool guy mood he was in last time. "A job?" I asked. "We were getting your prosthetics," Rac said. Everyone looked at her. I slowly turned and took in the carnage. "What? All this shit for some prosthetics?" "And your pay," Rac said. There was a bit of accusation there. I tossed my arms up. How was I supposed to know that a bunch of people would go nuts over twenty points? The goal was to get info more than anything, not start a small war. "Man, people are stupid," I said. *** Magical Girl Mercenary For Hire - Chapter One Magical Girl Mercenary For Hire - Chapter One Chapter One >> 2041 >> Continent: North America >> Country: Old New York >> City: Mega City New New York >> 12:49am The room past the entrance way was, unsurprisingly, another lobby. This was a very small one, though, with a long counter with a pair of secretaries behind it, and a corridor to either side. I saw some offices further in, a bunch of cubicles taking up a room, the other side just had a turn further in and a couple of doors with little placards next to them. Miss? one of the secretaries said. He was a guy secretary, a big muscled guy that didnt seem to fit into his button-up shirt very well. Hello miss, Im Timothy Jortfull. Security out front said that you needed our services? I blinked. I hadnt said anything like that to the security guy out front. Then again, I suppose it made some sense. When you walk into a store youre usually there to buy stuff, not to come asking for a job. Im sorry, Mister Jortfull, but I think you have it wrong. Its not your fault, I just didnt know if that was the right entrance to take for what Im looking for.Discover new chapters at novelhall.com Mister Jortfull stood a little taller at that. Oh, of course. This is the entrance for customers. Theres only one other entrance. For employees. I dont think you should come in from that one. He smiled. Im hoping that I can soon, I said with my best idol smile. Mister Jortfulls smile looked a bit fixed. If... you wish? he said. Wed rather that than coming in from the walls. I frowned. Why would I come in through the walls? I mean, I could come in through the windows, I guess. Were on the seventy-sixth floor. I know... I took the elevator here. I shook my head. This conversation was weird, and getting weirder. Alright, look Mister Jortless, maybe you can help me? Thats what Im here for, he said. Great! Id like one job application, please. You want a job application? But our applications are online, he said. Oops. The man blinked. Im Commander Caden Carpenter. Id rather you didnt call me... Daddy. Okay, sir, I said while working very hard to suppress the redness climbing up my cheeks. My name is Magic Muffin Cosmic Giggle Princess. Im a magical girl ready to fight for love and justice! I... see. Well, Miss Magic Muffin Cosmic Giggle Princess, how can the Wraith Rangers help you? I need work, I said. Fighting for love and justice is great, but there arent any aliens to blow up right now, and so I thought Id ask if you needed any help? You want a job, he said. His eyes went distant for a moment, then he nodded. I think we can arrange that. What are your specialities? What kind of work are you looking to do? And you understand what kind of work wed ask of you? My speciality is bringing a smile to the face of the downtrodden and also mid-ranged high-impact assaults. I shook my head. And I just need a job on the side, I ah, dont really know how you can help me with that. Honestly, it was a lot of brainstorming that brought me here, but I didnt have too much time to think about it. Commander Carpenter leaned back against his desk, arms crossed. I felt like I was being weighted with the way he was looking at me. The Wraith Rangers mostly focus on anti-xeno operations whenever theres an incursion along the east coast. Well do clean-up as well. But those jobs arent constant. The rest of the time we split our attention between security work, which means long hours and low pay, and special jobs, which are usually short and dangerous. I think Ill go with the short and dangerous ones, I said. I have school during the week, so this is more of a part time thing. The commander nodded slowly. This is the first time wed work directly with a samurai, but Ive heard what its like from others. Frankly speaking, Miss Magic Muffin Cosmic Giggle Princess, samurai have a rep for being nightmares to work with, but other companies put up with it because its usually worth it in the end. Oh, I said. Well, Im hoping that we both profit from it, if thats what you mean. I dont want to be troublesome. Hmm, he hmmed. Alright. I think we can work with that. Are you free tomorrow? Tomorrow was Sunday, which was one of my days off. Yeah, I can manage. Probably not all day, but for a chunk of it, sure. He nodded again. Good. Lets call tomorrow a test, then. We have a medium-priority job tomorrow within New New York, in the destroyed part of the city. Ill email you the details. Do you have good decryption software? Yup! Whats the job? Were not like... killing innocents or like, hurting nice people, right? That kind of work pays well, but we dont take it. My Rangers started as Us Army rangers. We still act to serve the citizens of whatever country were in. No strikebreaking, no extortion work. This job is closer to what were made for; recon in force. Okay, I said. I can work with that. Send me the details and Ill be there! Good. Youll be with one of my most experienced teams. Theres a rogue AI to hunt down out there. Were being paid to take it out. *** Chapter Thirty-Nine - Shots, Spots, Stretchers Chapter Thirty-Nine - Shots, Spots, Stretchers Chapter Thirty-Nine - Shots, Spots, Stretchers "I''m not paid enough for this." Jacob "Redundant" Smith, Private PMC Contractor, 2057 *** The ambulances arrived soon enough and parked themselves along one side of the road. It looked pretty organised, with the vans spinning around right away so that they were back-first to the mercs and PMCs that needed them. Paramedics jumped out, followed by hovering drones that carried cameras for legal documentation, some remote controlled guns, and a small toolkit with medical supplies and whatever equipment the paramedics needed. The vans were the bigger sort, with bunked gurneys so that each one could carry half a dozen patients at the same time. I imagined that they''d all be filled up soon enough. The mercs had stood down already, but now some of them were tossing guns and gear away as the medics arrived and started unfolding their gurneys to load up the worst and richest of the injured first. I nodded along, happy to see that things were operating smoothly. It meant that I could refocus on Rac and her friends. "So," I said. Rac and her little gang of weirdos were still focused on me. Especially Coco. I''d thought she was pretty cool before, but now I wasn''t so sure. The woman definitely had that fan-girl vibe going on, and while that was fine, it was less fine when it was pointed my way. Rac, at least, looked better. Colour was returning to her cheeks and her eyes were sharp. It didn''t look like she was going to pass out anymore. "Uh, I guess we should see about those prosthetics?" I said. "Oh, and you can meet Gomorrah. You remember her, right Rac?" "Yeah," Rac said. "She''s moving in under you." I nodded slowly, then decided to clarify the statement for the audience. "Yeah, she''s taking over some of the floors in the building under my, uh, house." It looked like Coco was vibrating a little as she turned towards Rac. "You know where she lives?" she asked. Rac looked supremely uncomfortable, but also reluctant to answer. "I, uh, live with Lucy. That''s Ca-- Stray Cat''s wife." "Girlfriend," I pointed out. "For now." "You proposed?" Rac asked. "Really, Cat?" Gomorrah asked as she came up behind me. "What? No. I mean. I will. Eventually. I guess. If Lucy wants." Gomorrah gave me a very unimpressed look, which was impressive considering the full-face mask that was permanently stuck in disappointed glare. She did sigh after a moment. "Actually, that makes perfect sense. She would be the one to act on it." "What''s that mean?" I asked. "I get free rent," Rac muttered back. I went on pretending that I couldn''t hear them. It was too much fun, embarrassing Rac, though I didn''t want to push it too far. Fun was fun, but I didn''t want to actually piss her off. Even if her pouting was cute. "So, these fucks spent... what, a few million credits on defence to steal shit that was not worth a tenth of that? It doesn''t add up." "We haven''t looked into the warehouse yet," Gomorrah said. She hefted her flame thrower. "Do you think they''re hiding more?" "I''m worried about it, yeah," I said. "Rac!" Rac jumped. "Yeah?" "You and your buddies okay to play baby-sitters for a bit? We''re gonna line up the PMCs that aren''t bleeding out and have them stay in one place." "Uh, okay. But if it''s just us, they might not listen." "You''ll have the mech," I said. "Can I ride it?" Rac asked. I laughed. "No." Rac pouted some more. Really, if she knew the face she made when she was disappointed, I was pretty sure she''d never express herself ever again. I was determined not to let her find out from me, though. She''d probably grow out of it soon enough. "Right, let''s see what the PMCs have to say, then... well, I''m breaking in there whether they want me to or not." "That seems reasonable to me," Gomorrah said. "Atyacus is pulling up some concerning results. The credit-trail is extremely suspect." Yeah, that only made sense. I sauntered over to the PMCs who didn''t seem all that happy to see me and Gomorrah walking over. They also didn''t seem ready to try anything. Honestly, if they did, I might have been in a bit of trouble. I was only bulletproof at the moment. If enough of them piled on quick enough I''d have to buy a grenade or two then set them off while closer than I''d like. Gomorrah, on the other hand, could probably fuck them all up, no problem. She was still wearing nun-stuff, but her head was clearly helmeted and her boots looked like they were made of the kind of steel used on tanks. The rest of her was hidden, but there was a lot of... thickness there that suggested she was well covered. Also, big fuck-off flame thrower. Those were really handy in negotiations, because not only could she kill you, but it would hurt the entire time, and there wouldn''t be anything left to bury. "Hello, boys and girls," I said. "I have a lot of questions, and I think I deserve some answers." It didn''t take long to reorganise the PMCs. The lightly injured were set aside, the officers and ranked members were brought to one spot, and the rest got to sit pretty under the watchful eyes of Rac, her friends, and my very large warmech which frequently went invisible and reappeared elsewhere. I think that last bit was just Myalis fucking with them, but I wasn''t going to stop her. *** Side Story Poll! Side Story Poll! Hello! So, Ive been having a lot of fun writing side-content for Stray Cat Strut, and I know Im not the only one. There have been a few fantastic fanfics that have popped up, and you cant imagine how giddy it makes me to see fan content of my own work! Anyway! This isnt quite about that! Beatrice (AKA: Electric Prism Synthwave Nova Girl Boom Boom Ranger Sparkles) Smiths adventures into mercenary work have been fun to write, but theyre only one of many Samurai in the Cybercat-verse. Grasshopper - (Set 2050s, a somewhat off-kilter young teacher who wants to stay as weird as she is despite her life being upended. Tone: Some comedy, but lots of introspection and time spent in the head of a character thats very weird) Emocythe Mordeath Noir - (Set late 2040s, a goth gets more goth-er, fashion and long discussions about appearances and what it means to be a samurai) Beatrice Hyper Cutie Bubblechan Zoom Ranger Sparkle Girl - We continue her story where it left off! If there are any other samurai youd like to see more of, then let me know! Or even just... periods of time within the setting, or areas in the world that you want explored! Im thinking of doing short arcs with each one, just showing a snippet of a samurais life. Chapter Forty - Creative Kleptomania Chapter Forty - Creative Kleptomania Chapter Forty - Creative Kleptomania "Samurai technology might very well be the most valuable thing in the world right now. But humanity is catching up. It''s not fast, but it''s consistent, and the more time we spend breaking down their alien tech, the faster we learn basic principles that will allow humanity to catch up, and eventually surpass, the Protectors. Just give us a few years, a decade at most, and we will turn this world into a utopia!" --Professor Henry, MIT, 2031 *** Predictably, the PMCs knew nothing. In fact, they seemed willfully ignorant. They were not remembering a lot of things, and that was probably my fault. I had questioned the group together. Once one of them insisted he couldn''t even remember how long he''d been working at this location for, or what his hours were like, or how much he was being paid, the others decided to join in on the rapid forgetfulness, especially when it became clear that I wasn''t going to shoot them for not giving me the answers I wanted. It was frustrating, but at the same time, more or less understandable. They were very insistent that they didn''t know what they were defending, and I was even inclined to believe them. Myalis tapped into their augs and was able to confirm that none of them had been any deeper into the warehouse than the first dozen metres past the entrance. That left one avenue to discover what this place was hiding, and that was checking it out myself. Of course, I obviously assumed that the place was boobytrapped out the ass. If whomever had set this up could afford private contractors this well-equipped, then they could afford a few grenades and some string, or a few more complex options. "I don''t want to go in there," I admitted to Gomorrah. She eyed the interior of the warehouse. "I can''t pick up any obvious traps. But I also don''t have anything designed for picking out traps in the first place, and I don''t think traps would set off my thermals." "So, options?" I asked. "Get trap-disarming equipment?" Gomorrah proposed. I took a deep breath, then shook my head. "Expensive, I bet. And I don''t have a big supply of fresh points I want to spend on this. The electronics for my augs to see traps might be fairly cheap, but then again, they might not cover everything." "So we send in some of these PMCs one at a time? We have... a decent number of them." "Wow," I said. "That''s... really fucking cold." Gomorrah paused, then nodded. "You''re right. That is a rather uncharitable way to treat people. And a war crime." I nodded along, then started moving people back and away from the warehouse. I didn''t think that it was actually a danger, but... well, better safe than sorry. The cat stared at the keypad for a good long while before it went green, then the big door slid open. Inside was... an airlock. The cat stepped in, then waited while it cycled. I suspect that the gas the room is filled with is lethal to humans. Though it might not be on purpose. "How''s that?" I asked. I suspect that it''s pure nitrogen. But I don''t have proper analysis systems on the drone. "Then what makes you think it''s nitrogen?" I asked. The drone pointedly stared at a large pipe with the word ARGON painted on its side. "Oh." I scratched at my neck. "Why nitrogen?" "Argon doesn''t react to very much," Gomorrah said. "It''s non-flammable, and non-explosive. Probably relatively cheap as well. If you''re going to preserve things, then it''s maybe not the best choice, but it''s not far from it. And it makes the air lethal to breathe, but if it leaks, it won''t be that big of a problem as long as there''s good ventilation in the space around it." Well, this operation was looking more and more expensive by the minute. The inner airlock door opened, and the cat drone walked into a large room that seemed to take up most of the space of this inner building. The cat stopped a few steps in and scanned its head around. I stared. The room had a wall covered in cubbies with glass doors. I could see all sorts of random trash in there. The rest of the room was a sort of factory space. Large robotic arms hanging from the ceiling, multiple workstations with more remote-controlled systems. Lots of hanging cameras. "Myalis, what the hell am I looking at?" Surprisingly, Gomorrah answered first. "It''s a deconstruction space. They''re taking things apart." "Why?" I asked. I noticed one table had a prosthetic leg on it, held in place between two vices. Small robotic arms were frozen in the act of taking off one of the plastic-like coverings. It seems as if we''ve discovered a reverse-engineering lab. *** Chapter Forty-One - Recreational Urban Warfare Chapter Forty-One - Recreational Urban Warfare Chapter Forty-One - Recreational Urban Warfare Anon: "Sunrise Technologies... the Future, Today!" Anon: "No, that''s too cheesy." Anon: "Our in-house AI came up with it. I think it''s a perfect slogan." Anon: "Our in-house AI is a fucking moron." --Sunrise Technology, Discussion Chat, 2055 *** "What the fuck are we supposed to do about this?" I asked. Chonker the remote controlled cat had managed to spring up and onto one of the workbenches. Its head scanned left to right, so I got a nice panoramic picture of the entire space. There was a lot of tech here. Nothing too big. Mostly it looked like discarded guns, some small containers, lots of medical stuff, I noted, as well as gun mags, loose ammo, healing inhalers, filtration devices. Basically a lot of small quickly discarded crap. I had left some of that kind of crap here and there myself, and I guessed that I wouldn''t mind someone picking it up and trying to figure out how it worked. The table next to one of my prosthetics had what looked like a quadrupedal turret drone. It was a big bulky thing, with armoured legs and a twin-barrelled gun in its centre. The entire thing was partially melted from the front, and it looked like it had lost a fight with one of the freakier sorts of antithesis. There''s another of your drones here. And Atyacus found a flying scout drone that belonged to Gomorrah here as well. Myalis highlighted a couple of the cubicles at the back in red. It looked like they were filled to the brim with scrap. "It looks like a lot of junk," Gomorrah said. With her mask on, it was impossible to tell if she was looking at me or at what Chonker was capturing for us, but I assumed we were looking at the same thing. "Yeah, but it''s samurai junk," I said. "Probably worth a small fortune to the right collector. I don''t know if I should be angry about them reverse-engineering some of this stuff or not," I said. It wasn''t all bad, obviously. Lots of modern tech was based on shit that samurai had bought and distributed. Tech had to improve, and being able to steal from other, more advanced tech was probably the cheapest, easiest way to improve things. The concerning part was the weird secrecy of this place. And the fact that they''d stolen my shit to disassemble it. "Myalis, is samurai gear tagged? Like, can you tell who bought what?" Yes, of course. There are serial sequences encoded onto most items. "Like a serial number?" I asked. Somewhat more complex, but for the purposes of keeping things simple, yes. "Alright, so can you look at that junk and tell what belongs to who?" The call connected before I really had time to figure that out. One screen had an image of Eric''s face. It looked like he was parked in some cubicle, staring at a webcam. The lower screen was of myself, as seen from above and at an angle. I turned that way, then noticed my warmech staring at me. Neat. "Hey," I said. "Hello, Miss Stray Cat? How can I help you? Did you want an update on the sewer situation?" Oh, shit, I''d almost forgotten about that. "Not just yet," I said, trying to keep my cool. "So, you know how I''m on vacation?" "Yes?" he asked. There was a lot of trepidation in that one word. "Well, one thing led to another, and it started a gang war, of sorts? If PMCs and mercenary teams count as gangs." "Your... vacation started that?" "Yeah," I said. "Anyway, I ran into a sort of... samurai-tech cache? It''s a big building, lots of remote-controlled shit, chock-full of stolen samurai gear. Mostly disposables, but there''s guns, ammo, explosives, medical tech. Probably a few thousand points worth of random stuff." "A few... okay," Eric said. He wiped his brow. "Okay. Yes, that is something we''d like to look into. Is it a storage unit?" "Nah. Here, Myalis, can your secretary AI send Eric some of the pics Chonkers took?" "Chonkers?" Eric asked. His eyes widened as he obviously received a packet from Myalis. Then he stared off into space for a few long moments. "Is that a fully-automated site?" "Looks like it," I said. "Deconstruction and disassembly and maybe some reverse engineering shit. They stole from me, and I, uh, kinda hired some mercs to track my stuff for me. The company is called Sunrise Technologies. They''ve fucked around in the past. Didn''t find out hard enough." Eric was nodding along. He was probably thinking of all the ways this could be good publicity, or good for his career. Or maybe how this was making me forget about the sewers, which it admittedly had. But he didn''t need to know about that last part. I cleared my throat and Eric jumped. "So, do you want the Family to secure the site?" "That''d be nice," I said. "We''ll have a team there within an hour," he promised. "And did you want a portion of the profits?" I almost repeated that last part aloud, but I caught myself. "That''d be... more than nice. Also, Gomorrah is here. She helped." "Yes, of course. We can make sure she gets a fair share as well. Thank you for calling, Stray Cat. Is there, ah, anything else I can help you with?" "Uh... no?" I tried. I noticed that Rac and her team were arguing nearby, which meant they weren''t watching the PMCs as much as they should. I was going to have to step in. "I''ll be waiting for your team. Tell them to make it snappy, and maybe come loaded for trouble." *** Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter One Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter One Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter One Daisy stifled a yawn. System Initialized! Congratulations. Through your actions you have proven yourself worthy of becoming one of the Vanguard, a defender of humanity. I am Lynus. I will assist you to uplift humanity so that you may defend your homeworld from the Antithesis threat! Rise, Daisy Moon, and become a protector of the weak! "Seriously?" Daisy asked. She shifted on the spot, very much aware of the way her slippers stuck to the carpet and squelched disgustingly underfoot. Her pyjamas were covered in a heavy splatter of greenish blood. So were the walls, and some of the ceiling. Hello, Daisy! Daisy opted to ignore the voice in her head for now. Instead, she turned and walked deeper into her home. It was a nice place. Her dad''s. He had one of those weird paper-pusher jobs that paid better than it should, and which came with a nice apartment on the upper third of a mega building. It even had windows, and her own room. She walked out of the entrance lobby, past the open-plan kitchen-living room, and into her dad''s office. The gun safe was open, though the gun that was meant to be in it was currently cradled in her arms. Flipping the shotgun over, Daisy reached into a small box and removed a pair of shells. She slipped them into the loading port at the bottom of the gun, then fit two more in. Daisy paused. The next bit was usually something she''d ask her augs to search for her. But now... "Do I need to pump it?" she asked. That model of shotgun has room for four shells in the tube, and one in the chamber. The chamber is currently empty. "Okay," Daisy said. She pumped the gun, then shoved another round in. She considered taking the box, or a few shells, but her silken pyjamas had no pockets, so she shrugged and left the room. "Daisy! Daisy?" her dad asked. He was in his room, the door open just a crack. "Sweetie, are you okay? I heard shots." "Go back to work," she said. "It''s nothing." "Oh... okay sweetie." The door shut with an audible click, and Daisy slid past. The entrance hall had a pair of corpses blocking it. Large, dog-like monsters, with black fur and green blood. They smelled faintly of turned soil and mud. It wasn''t an unpleasant smell, Daisy found, but it was still annoying. It clung, like the scented stuff spritzed in public washrooms. She walked over to the nearest monster, then kicked it in the gut. That moved it enough that, with more effort than she cared to use, she was able to slam the front door shut. Then she pushed the monster''s corpse up against it. Then the second one was rolled closer, effectively barricading the door with a lot of literally dead weight. Daisy yawned again, checked the time--around 10AM, then turned and headed back. Are you going to take this time to decide on what to do? "No. I''m going to shower. Then change into a fresh pair of pyjamas." You... are not going to help? "I''m going back to sleep." Your augmentation''s records suggest that you''ve slept nine hours already before being awakened. That''s not including the four hours you spent in bed watching memes and animal videos. "I''ll try that shampoo stuff," she said. Usually she showered on Saturday night, then again early on Monday. But she supposed that a long shower was relaxing all on its own. The shower was nice. She rolled past the hot water meter, and idly ignored the warning in her augs about her water consumption. Lynus seemed to bat it aside without a care, and the water didn''t even switch to cold to get her to leave. The shampoo smelled like strawberries. Actual strawberries, not the artificial scent of them. She supposed there was some use to being a samurai. "This isn''t so bad," she said as she stepped out, wrapping a towel around her head. There are many reasons why Vanguard go out and try to make a difference. Few of them have been enticed by luxuries, but I suppose it''s not all bad. "Hmm," she hummed. "I''d need a samurai name." The current tradition holds that the first Vanguard a new Vanguard meets names them. With some exceptions, of course. "Nah," she said as she slipped into her pyjama top. It was extremely thick, and soft, and warm, and maybe slightly damp from being in the sauna-like bathroom, but she could live with that. "I''m naming myself, if it comes to that." Does that mean you''ll be acting as a Vanguard? "Still Sunday," she said. I see. Of course. I don''t suppose technicalities like time zones would count? "Only if it means that it''s Sunday for longer," Daisy said. Of course. So, you seem to have an idea for a name? She nodded as she slipped back into her room, taking the shotgun with her. She pointed to a small statue above the door. One of the few things she''d added to the room itself, other than the larger bed. She''d insisted, and her father complied because it wasn''t a big deal. It was a greek figure, a man with wings, his eyes closed, his arms fallen by his side. He seemed almost lazy. A small plaque under the figure named him. "Hypnos." "I can''t take his name, of course," Daisy said. "So... well, I always thought that he wasn''t appreciated enough." She nodded. I see. A mythological figure associated with sleep. You want something related to that as a name? "Hmm, how about... Somnus Deus Est?" It had proper gravitas. A name that people could respect, with history, with power. Daisy flopped onto her bed, then writhed her way under the covers. That was enough for today. "We''ll see about all that samurai stuff later," she said. Later? "Tomorrow, Lynus." She yawned. "Tomorrow." You are aware that the incursion is ongoing? "Look, if they come in here, then I''ll take care of them. If they don''t, too bad. Just tell the aliens that they can either respect my time off, of fuck off, yeah?" I''ll be certain to let them know. *** Chapter Forty-Two - Trash Panda Feelings Chapter Forty-Two - Trash Panda Feelings Chapter Forty-Two - Trash Panda Feelings "As we modernise, it''s become increasingly obvious that the youngest generations are lacking crucial, real-world communication skills. Small talk is becoming harder. Connections are more difficult to establish. More notably, the time and opportunity for people to improve on these skills, meet new people, and create bonds is shrinking. More work is remote. Open gathering spaces are less common. Our new society isn''t designed to encourage community. And this will have a powerful impact on any new society''s abilities to rebel. A counter-culture needs to start from the roots, from people who are tired and want to see change, and who are willing to work together to achieve it. This new world we''re developing is stomping on the very foundations that rebellion needs to function." --A Study of Sociology and Rebellion, 2028 *** Things finally calmed down around the same time as the Family arrived. And when they arrived, they really made a show of it. Seven heavy vans, escorted by a trio of light combat vehicles. Enough spotlights to turn the dreary tunnel street into a bright-as-day space. The Family settled off to one side, and then the doors to their vans opened up and the teams within dispersed. It was all orderly and careful, soldiers with clear training moving in a predetermined, practised way. I decided to stand aside. Eventually, one of them would come over to brown-nose, but for now, I could leave them to it. Which meant that I had nothing better to do than annoy Rac and her friends. The group was backing away, letting the cops and newly arrived Family take care of the Sunrise PMCs. So Rac and her friends were all standing next to one of the still-burning APCs, and it looked like Rac was being raked across the coals by Garter. "Hey, Gom," I said. "I''ll be back in a minute or two. Just gonna check on Rac." "Sure," Gomorrah said. "I''ll direct the Family. I don''t want them stumbling into a trap." I nodded my thanks, then started walking towards Rac and her... team? Did they have a team name? I couldn''t remember them mentioning one, and I was afraid that if I asked about it, it might come off as corny. My ears twitched as I got closer. Garter was clearly not happy about something. "If we''d known, it would have changed everything," he said. Rac crossed her arms, but she wasn''t meeting his eyes. I knew that look. She wanted to stand up to him, knew he was wrong, but was afraid of pushing back too hard. "It shouldn''t change anything," she said. "Of course it does," Garter said. He swiped a hand through his hair. "You know a samurai. Two of them! Maybe more? That''s... huge? Do you know the kind of rep that comes with that? The kind of doors it opens up?" "Garter, chill a little," Coco said. "It''s cool that Rac has friends in high places, but they''re her friends, not ours." "Cat''s not like that," Rac said. "She''d figure out that you''re trying to scam her right away." "Scam her? No, I just want to be her friend too. There is so much to gain from just knowing a samurai. After tonight, our rep is going to be damned solid. We can lean into that, grow the crew, get Millenium to give us a few more jobs that pay better. We can take more careful risks if we have a samurai to fall back on like tonight." "Cat won''t rescue us that often," Rac said. "She''s on vacation right now. I think it''s the only reason she came." "I know," Rac said. "I''m... I''m not the sort to blame myself for things going wrong. Things have been going wrong forever. Shit flows down, and I was always at the bottom, but I''m not the one making the shit." "That''s a roundabout way of saying you''re not an asshole." She pouted harder. "Maybe I should be." "Aww, don''t be that way," I said as I reached over to pat her head. She ducked away from it, but I think it''s the thought that matters. Lucy was better at this kind of stuff than I was. "Look, I''m sorry things didn''t go as you planned. Still happy you called. I''d rather have you annoyed at me or whatever, than find out you''re dead after not showing up back home for a while." Rac glanced up, then nodded. "Alright." she said. "So, you''re not angry? With me? With Garter?" "Eh, I''m ambivalent about Garter right now. He seems like a bit of a dick. Don''t let him schmooze you just to get to me, alright? Coco seems cool, and Spider... well, he at least isn''t pretending to not be a dick." "Spider''s pretty cool," Rac agreed. "And Coco''s... nice. She doesn''t treat me like she''s my mom. More like a cool older sister." There was a pointed look there. Did... did she think I was mothering her? That couldn''t be any further from the truth. If anything, I was more of a dead-beat dad. I got her food and a place to stay, then left her with chores for days on end without checking in. Was that bad parenting? It was better than what my parents did for me, which was mostly just dying. I did sigh this time, then placed a hand on her shoulder. Rac didn''t seem to mind the contact. "I''m sorry," I said. "For not being around as much. I guess I kinda just... lumped you in with the kittens, then left you to do your own thing. You''re kind of in a weird spot. One of mine, but without all of the background, you know?" Rac squirmed a little, but nodded. I wasn''t sure if we were on the same wavelength, actually, but it didn''t feel like we were entirely on opposite ends of things. "We can talk more later... actually, no, Lucy can talk more later. She''s the good one to talk to about this kind of stuff," I said. Rac nodded, and I wasn''t sure how to feel about her instant agreement there. "I''m gonna go check up on Gomorrah. Will you be able to make it back home alright, or do you need a ride?" "In the mech?" "There''s barely room for two in there," I said. "And, uh, no offence, but we''re not close enough for you to lay down on top of me while in a tight confined space. I was thinking more that I''d pay for your cab." "Oh," Rac said. "No, I can manage that." "Alright," I said. This time I did get to her head, and her pout was accompanied by a glare, one that was severely diminished by how ruffled her hair was. *** Chapter Forty-Three - Finders, Not Keepers Chapter Forty-Three - Finders, Not Keepers Chapter Forty-Three - Finders, Not Keepers "Note to self: Don''t fuck with Rac''s weird catgirl friend." --Jerusalem "Spider" Smith, personal notes, 2057 *** I found Gomorrah chatting with not one, but three Family people. One of them was wielding a clipboard, the other two looked like they were a step ahead of the average PMC. Good gear, very sleek armour, slightly rounded and pitch black. It looked like they were custom fits too, or damned near to that. The kind of stuff that no real army would buy because they''d need a million different sizes to outfit a battalion. Their helmeted heads turned my way as I came over, and I made a conscious effort not to be intimidated even a little. Their gear looked pretty tight. There was definitely a samurai providing this shit, and I wasn''t sure where my own gear sat in terms of quality. Then again, I had a large mech standing nearby, so fuck them and their little armoured suits. "Hey," I said as I came up. "Good news, no news, news that''s not so good?" Gomorrah let out a breath. "Something like that," she said. "This is Officer Kennedy." She gestured to the lightly-armoured guy with the clipboard. "Ma''am," he replied with a nod. "We were just going over the assessment with Samurai Gomorrah. Do you want us to start over?" "Just give me the quick notes," I said. He nodded, then glanced at the tablet he held. "We''ve secured the area around the disassembly factory. No explosives found. No traps. The area within is still filled with unbreathable air, but that is an incidental matter and only a complication, not a method to prevent ingress." "Uh-huh," I said. "Did you find a way to clear it out?" "We''re opting not to," he said. "We have a team coming in with PPE suitable for the task." Gomorrah nodded along. "The plan right now is to check what they have, catalogue everything." "And then what?" I asked. She shrugged. "Leave it to the Family?" I frowned. They couldn''t see it, but I think everyone caught on to the fact that I was hesitating. This whole thing was a new sort of fucky. The gear in there was stolen, yeah, and now we''ve taken it out of the hands of the people who''d stolen it, but that didn''t mean it was returned to its owners. Yeah, figures. I''d just cut into their bottom line a little, but I hadn''t cut it apart. They''d make their credits here. I let the conversation stretch into silence as I watched the Family''s soldiers move. I didn''t think the Family was bad. They had their own best interests as their first priority, but otherwise they were working to make things better, to help. I couldn''t exactly dislike that. But at the same time, that didn''t mean I wouldn''t be at least a little suspicious of them. "Right," I said at last, cutting into the silence. "I think that''s it for me here. I''m going to need to get my mech back home, which isn''t going to be the easiest thing to do. I''ll leave you guys to your work?" "We''d appreciate that, ma''am," Kennedy said with a serious nod. "We''ll keep you informed. HQ should be sending a link to an updatable file structure. If you want, we can have any goods that are marked as yours shipped to your residence?" "That would actually be nice, yeah. Those prosthetics they stole were supposed to go to people that needed them. I guess if they''re disassembled... well, maybe they''ll be good for parts?" I had no idea, but maybe See-Three would know better. I expected that having a heap of spare parts for the prosthetics we were making wouldn''t hurt. Speaking of spare parts... I glanced at my mech and sighed. Yeah, I was gonna need to get back to work. There were a lot of repairs left. "I think I''ll be heading back as well," Gomorrah said. "Keep me informed as well. Atyacus can take your messages. Cat, do you need help moving your mech again?" "I''d appreciate it," I said. Getting the mech here had been... tricky. It was fast, on the ground, but this was halfway across the damned city. So to get the mech here, I''d ridden it on top of the Fury. The articulated paws were able to get a good grip, and Gomorrah was able to fly her car well enough to keep it stable throughout. It had still been... harrowing. I was only pretty sure that I''d survive a fall. "This was... interesting," Gomorrah said as she walked up next to me. She glanced around the tunnel. "Is this the kind of stuff you''ve been up to, lately? Shooting politicians and getting into arguments with the Family?" "More or less, yeah," I said. "Is it weird that I almost miss fighting the aliens that want to eat me?" "No, not at all. They don''t have politics. Unless ''eating you'' is political?" "In some places," I said with a laugh. "Maybe. But yeah. It''s simpler. See the alien, shoot the alien. Easy. This shit is all about competing interests and figuring out who wants to screw with me the most. It''s a pain in the ass to deal with." "I don''t know. You''ve been handling it well enough. And the aliens are always there if you want to end your vacation early." I hummed. "I''ll think about it. I do think that this vacation of mine is coming to a middle." *** Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Two Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Two Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Two Daisy turned her head and looked at the alarm clock sitting next to her bed. It was battery operated, which was the only reason it still displayed the time. 12:10, in the AM. She almost wanted to cry. It was, in every way that mattered, Monday. With a long-suffering sigh that came from deep, deep within her, Daisy pushed her blankets up. They were heavy, thickly padded things, and the plushies on top only served to make the blankets even harder to raise. Are you well? "Yeah," Daisy said. She slipped her feet into her slippers, then stood. "It''s Monday." I can confirm as much, yes. Daisy very, very reluctantly stood. She adjusted her nightgown, then just stayed where she was, the weight of having to wait a whole six days until the next Sunday pressing down on her. "God damn it," she whispered. Is everything okay? Your hormone levels are consistent with someone grieving. I''ll admit that I''m somewhat concerned. "I''m in mourning. Another Sunday has laid its life on the line and won''t ever be seen again. It''s a tragedy." She shook her head. "Sorry, I''m being melodramatic. It''s just frustrating that I have another week to wait." I probably shouldn''t bring this up, but you know that as a Vanguard, the usual rules don''t truly apply to you. Daisy paused, then shook her head. "No. They still do. The rules don''t apply to powerful samurai. I''m not that. Not yet. But I guess I can work on it." She stretched, a hand raising up as high as she could bring it while she tilted her upper body to one side. "How many points do I have?" One hundred and thirty. Twenty from the two kills you secured. Another ten from your daily allowance. "Okay. How do I spend them?" That depends very much on what you want. What are you looking for? "You''re the expert," she said. "But I''m gonna head out now. So whatever would help?" I see. Do you mind if I look into your media profiles? I can deduce from that the kind of equipment would be best suited for you. Though your actual preferences might be different after actual time spent in the field. "Go nuts," Daisy said. "Can''t imagine I''ll get the good stuff for one-thirty." Stepping out of her room, Daisy picked up her dad''s shotgun and moved it from next to her door to next to her dad''s office. She knocked on the door. "I''m heading out," she said. "What?" came her dad''s tired reply. "I''ll be back in a bit. Don''t worry," Daisy replied before moving on. "The gun''s by your door," she called back. She paused by the entrance, next to the now-decomposing alien corpses, to put on a pair of comfortable walking shoes. Then she had to move the bodies aside. The house was dark, and the corridor outside of their apartment wasn''t much better. The only illumination came from glowing red emergency lights. She kicked both corpses out of her house, then closed the door. The lock didn''t engage, because it was purely electronic, which was more annoying than anything else. "So, where can I find some easy kills?" she asked. The building is on orange alert. The outer edge of the incursion reached this area some hours ago, but was mostly rebutted. You might have to leave the megabuilding complex in order to find a decent number of antithesis. Try heading west. Daisy took a moment to remember which direction was west, then she started that way. The elevators were down, of course, but the power being out didn''t stop the stairs from working. Three floors down, she left the stairwell and started towards the largest open space within the mega building. A large interior park-like space lined by multiple floors of shops and community areas and enough ads to outshine the sun. They glowed, even with the power cut out. From one of the upper floor balconies, Daisy was able to look down upon several hundred people all crammed into the bottom floor. They looked lost. Desperate. People in corpo outfits, the cream of the middle-class crop, all calling out to sweaty security for help. She could very easily imagine her own family down in that press. "Right," she said. "Let''s not go down there. You said west, right? Let''s find a way out of this place. The megabuildings had dozens, hundreds of different exits. Some were bridges across to the next buildings over, others were for cars or service vehicles. There were only four primary exits, though, each leading out into the larger city around them and located at the ''ground'' floor of the building. Those were shut. The heavy bulkhead doors, each weighing several tones, slammed down and unmoving. So Daisy found a convenient walkway a floor above and left through there. The big door was a selling point for the building''s security. She didn''t ever expect it to keep anything determined out, or in. The moment she stepped out into the wider world, Daisy knew something was wrong. The city was burning. There were thick clouds of dark smoke, illuminated from below and rising into the sky like ungodly pillars. The distant crack of gunfire was so frequent that it might as well have been raindrops on tin. Sirens wailed and she could faintly pick out screams. Above, aircraft, helicopters, and hovering cars raced back and forth. She stared for a moment. Are you okay? "Yeah. It''s just... this feels like more of a Monday than usual." *** Chapter Forty-Four - Jam and Drains Chapter Forty-Four - Jam and Drains Chapter Forty-Four - Jam and Drains "...About her tone, Samurai Stray Cat was exceptionally dismissive of protocols. I do not know if she was unaware or uncaring about them. Samurai Stray Cat assumed that the troops on site would act in the best, most professional manner, while herself carrying out whatever plan she had in place prior. Information sharing was not complete. Samurai Gomorrah seemed more careful and precise before the arrival of Samurai Stray Cat. It might be worth noting that Samurai Gomorrah seems willing to work with Family personnel initially, but her real feelings are hidden by a layer of polite obfuscation which Samurai Stray Cat lacks..." --Excerpt from field-investigation report of Officer Kennedy, 2057 *** I woke up early the next morning. Then I promptly started to snuggle with Lucy, which turned into more than cuddling, which turned into a pillow fight, which then turned into a more physical, less dressed version of ''more than cuddling'', and then that ended with me falling right back asleep. So really, my day only really started the crack of eleven-thirty. "What''s on the docket for today?" I asked as I lifted a shirt from the floor and gave it an experimental sniff. Eh, good enough. You have a few things to address. First, your point count has been slowly dropping, even with your daily allocations. Some points have come in from Burlington overnight, from the equipment you left there. "Not bad," I said. "How many points?" Seventy-two. I shrugged. Well, it was something. "Enough to buy a dozen or so Foxteeth and send them over to be used. I can see that generating some point-income over time. The price of Foxteeth-type handguns had been revised. I paused, pants halfway up. "What?" I asked. "Wait, what do you mean by that?" Foxteeth were like, the cheapest shitty handgun I could remember buying. They were a whole five points, and just enough to take out the lower-tiered antithesis. They were an alright civilian-grade gun otherwise. They were worth five points. As far as I was aware, they''d always been worth five points. The point value was reduced to four per unit. You seem confused about the change in price? "Yeah, no shit," I said as I tugged my pants on fully and started with the button. "I didn''t know things could change prices. Since when?" It''s always been the case. Though the market for Vanguard equipment is far more stable than any other market on Earth, mostly because it''s fed and influenced by outside sources. The value of an item is calculated from several factors. Its potency and level of danger, its material cost, the cost of transporting it, its technological level, and its perceived value. The Foxteeth''s technological edge was reduced by several recent initiatives pumping the civilian market with similar quality human-made guns. Therefore, the value was lowered. "And that''s normal?"Discover new chapters at novelhall.com If you had been alive in 2030 and were a Vanguard at the time, for example, the Foxteeth would be worth twice as much as it was when you first purchased one. I gave Lucy''s cheek a quick peck, then swiped her other piece of toast. She screamed, so out of the great mercy in my heart, I only took a huge bite from it before putting it back on her plate. "Gotta go!" I said past a full mouth. Lucy laughed and I slipped out of the kitchen and started through the house. It was surprisingly busy considering it wasn''t even noon yet. Some of the kittens were gathered together in the living room, sitting around a low table. "Hey Cat," Junior said as she looked up from a tablet. "You''re heading out?" "Yeah," I said. "What are you all doing?" "Grasshopper''s homework," she said. Then she frowned. "Did you do yours?" "Uh... I''m too busy for that," I said. "She''s going to be disappointed," Junior said. It was accusatory. "Come on, it''s not a big deal," I said. "She''ll be disappointed in you," she said before dropping it entirely. She sounded almost like she was pitying me. I slipped out before I could let that get to me. The homework was all stuff like math anyway. As if I''d ever need help with that. I had more than just a calculator jammed into my head. I found my coat by the entrance, and my helmet which I slipped on. I won''t help you with the homework. Grumbling to myself, I found my way over to my bike, then sighed at the bench, which was covered in a drizzling of water from the constant rain. I swept it off with my sleeve as best I could, then hopped onto the bike. Before taking off, I sent a quick text to Gomorrah, just letting her know that I was heading out to meet with the Family. It wasn''t that I didn''t trust the Family, it was that I trusted them a lot more if a fire-nun came in to avenge me if they did something fucky. Gomorrah was probably well-versed in the biblical sort of vengeance that I figured would keep even corpos in line. I got a thumbs-up emote back just as I was taking off. The trip over to the Family HQ wasn''t all that far, though it was raining hard enough you could drink your fill just by craning your neck back. It was a decent amount of time to look into things, specifically what Myalis could gather about the whole sewer situation. It seems like repairs started in earnest yesterday morning, though most of those repairs meant cutting off the water supply of areas adjoining the worst-hit parts of the city. "That''ll leave lots of pissed off people behind," I said. It''s necessary. Maybe so, but unless people were convinced that things were getting better fast, it might just be a way to piss off the average New Montrealler even more than they already were. "Let''s just get on top of things," I said. It was time to put on a brave face and do some politicking. *** Chapter Forty-Five - Corpo Shit Show Chapter Forty-Five - Corpo Shit Show Chapter Forty-Five - Corpo Shit Show "Never assume that corporate incompetence is corporate maliciousness. Corporations don''t care about you or yours. They don''t aim to hurt you. The reason you were hurt was because not hurting you would require a sacrifice of effort or money or both that''s too big to be excused." --Anonymous PR specialist, 2028 *** I parked my bike on the rooftop parking lot, slipping into a free space that was ''reserved for visiting samurai'' according to a small sign hanging above it. It was right next to the handicapped parking space too, so not a big walk from there to the door. I silently appreciated that it was on the far side of the reserved handicapped parking spots. There was a small space in my heart for cripples, and I appreciated that they didn''t block the spot off just for some upjumped samurai or whatever. Interestingly enough, it wasn''t Eric who ran out to greet me, but some woman that I didn''t recognize. She was in corpo chic, a tight skirt and a weird top that had large openings on the side that showed off the curve of her hips. I didn''t let my eye linger. Who knows if Lucy had convinced Myalis to tattle on me. "Hey," I said as I pushed the thought aside. Instead I was wondering what Lucy would look like in that kind of outfit. "Hello, Stray Cat," she said. There wasn''t nearly as much formality there as I''d come to expect from Eric. "You''re a new face," I said. "Is Eric busy?" "Ah, Eric was promoted," she said. "Though he will still be available as your liaison. Did you come here to speak with him?" "Hmm? Nah. It''s fine. I called ahead. Well, my AI called ahead. I''m here to see how shit''s going." She nodded, then gestured to the entrance a little ways behind her. "I''m prepared to give you a summary of events, if you wish? Eric and a few of the others working this case are making time to meet you in boardroom seventeen-G." "I''ll take that summary, sure," I said. "Also, what''s your name?" The woman smiled. "Piper, ma''am. I''ve been working here for almost a year now. If my inexperience is an issue, I''m certain Eric can fill you in better." "It''s fine," I said. "So, summarise away?" Piper nodded and I followed as she started towards the entrance. "The majority of the projects only really started yesterday morning. Prior to that we completed a partial sweep of the entire sewer system. Four locations were discovered with hidden Antithesis threats, though only at a yellow-danger level. Cleanup teams were dispatched in the afternoon and they''ve reported successes on all fronts." That was... concerning. Probably not all that surprising, though. Antithesis needed biomass. Shit had plenty. "Is there anything in place to notice that before it turns into a clusterfuck beneath our feet?" "There are systems in place. Or there should be. They were mostly offline, malfunctioning, or missing," Piper said. "Of course," I grumbled. At 2:13, he said he had the corpse of a member that said otherwise. The HQ said that that wasn''t confirmation. It took until 2:31 for confirmation to arrive, from accounting, because the dead employee''s time charts didn''t add up on account of him being dead, and dead people don''t get overtime pay. This was enough confirmation that HQ raised the warning to red, which finally let security allow the Family''s waiting team to step in. It was, basically, a hot mess of conflicting procedures, misinformation, people shoving their hands over their ears and screaming, and probably more that I couldn''t be bothered to read into. "This kind of shit common?" I asked. "Yes," was Piper''s reply. "It''s mostly factored into our estimates on repair times and cost, but this kind of event can sometimes be solved in minutes, and sometimes it''ll drag on for days." Right. I''d never been happier to foist off some work onto someone else. If I had to deal with all of this, a lot more people would be dead. It would probably be bad for the economy, or something. "Next time you run into something like this, let them know that unless they want me to give the mayoral treatment to their board of directors, they''d better have a damned good reason for preventing us from fixing the city." Piper blinked, then flushed. "J-just to be clear, you want us to threaten to kill the board of any corporation that interferes with the proceedings?" "No, I want you to threaten to tell me about it. Let me do the actual, direct threatening," I said. I didn''t need the Family using me as a whip to get the corps to move. It was another thing if they politely informed me, and then I went in and started whipping of my own volition. "Noted," Piper said. "Cool, cool," I said. "Now, anything else? You didn''t go into the actual repairs." "Those are coming along. The start was a little slow, and we expect to run out of essential materials before the day is over, but we have two teams on supply-acquisition already. We''re starting with the areas that are least damaged." "Not the worst-off parts?" I asked. "Repairs require that we divert sewage flows. Diverting from an area in grade B, that is, in need of maintenance but not urgently, to an area that''s grade F, that is, uh..." "Fucked?" "Essentially. Usually it''s best to have some areas that are fully functional to divert into. We''re fixing those first since the other areas are already in need of nearly full replacements. Mostly this is relying on the suggestions of experts." I nodded along. "Myalis, can you make sure these experts aren''t just fixing stuff for their own benefit first?" I asked. It seems like everything is actually running according to procedures. I can''t find any purposeful malfeasance or diversions of labour for personally-motivated reasons. That was good enough, I supposed. I couldn''t expect perfection here. Just having things underway was a big comfort. We were definitely going to run into more trouble, but it was a start, and if people knew things were going to get better, then it would calm down the likelihood of people rioting. Piper and I paused before the glass door of a boardroom. Eric was within, as well as a few others. "This is it, Stray Cat," Piper said. "I''m glad I could be of service." "Yeah. Thanks Piper," I said. "Now, let''s get to the boring part." *** Chapter Forty-Six - Getting Down To Your Business Chapter Forty-Six - Getting Down To Your Business Chapter Forty-Six - Getting Down To Your Business "Why do cats push things off of high places? I don''t know, you''ll have to ask a cat."Discover new chapters at novelhall.com --Miss Kitty K. @, Dog whisperer, 2031 *** I noped out of the meeting about twenty minutes after it started. Honestly, I''m impressed you made it that long. "Me too," I muttered exhaustedly. It felt like I''d spent hours in there. I knew it was only twenty minutes though, because there was a wall clock that tick-tick-ticked menacingly in the corner, and I was practically counting the seconds go by. That had lasted until I remembered that I was a samurai and I wasn''t no one''s bitch. I could up and leave, and that''s exactly what I''d done. "Stray Cat?" Piper asked as I started through the corridors. She ran after me, an impressive feat with the heels she was wearing. Then again, it looked like she might have cybernetic ankles. "Yo," I said, then I paused. "Are you single?" Piper blinked. "Yes?" she said before her cheeks started to redden. "Are you, uh, asking me out?" "Huh? No, I have a girlfriend, sorry. Just asking to make sure," I said. "Make sure of what? Uh, if you don''t mind me asking." I shrugged. "Look, sometimes I run into wayward and lost souls... very gay ones. It''s good to keep a running tally of potential people for them to meet, you know?" "I... don''t think I do." "Huh, well, whatever. Anyway, I''m heading out. I''ll be seeing to the sewers right away and in person. Honestly, I don''t know how corpo-types do it. I''d rather wade in shit than sit in on a meeting like that for another hour." "I... see," Piper said. I think I''d set her off balance there. "That''s fine. Let us know if you notice any issues that the Family needs to address." "Yup," I said before I started walking off. Right, it was time to check out the sewers themselves. Though I wasn''t entirely sure how. The system spanned, literally, the entire city, and I had no idea where to start. I wasn''t going to just dive into the first manhole I found. My brain hiccuped as I reprocessed that last bit. I shook it off and rephrased what I was about to ask Myalis. "I need to hover around and make it clear that there''s a Samurai looking into things," I said. "It''ll keep people honest." "Really? Wow, small world." "Pardon?" "Nevermind," I said. "So, Button-up, how''s things? Is shit starting to flow downstream at last, or are things still messed up in a bad way?" "Ah, I think things are better? It''s a lot busier," he said. "We''re hiring and on-boarding people as quickly as we can. There''s basically no training. Everyone already here was promoted, then promoted again, which is nice, but it doesn''t change how much work there is to do." "That''s a shame," I said. "But the work is getting done?" He nodded quickly. "We''re working non-stop. I haven''t been home in two days. I think some of us won''t be seeing our families again until this whole thing is done, but it''s... it''s a lot?" "Huh," I said. When I set off to make people fix the city''s problems for me, I''d never considered that there would actually be consequences for normal folk. Actually, I was generally pretty bad at thinking about consequences. "I''m... actually sorry to hear that," I said. "I''d be pretty pissed if I couldn''t see my family for that long. Or if I couldn''t go back home. You must be very pent up." "Huh?" "Yeah. But hey, you''re doing good work. Are things coming along?" We''d reached the command room by then, and I was met at the entrance by... that guy who was the head of maintenance. He was wearing a tag, fortunately. Ethan Brown. "They''re moving," Brown said. "Not as quick as I''d like, but much faster than I''d hoped." He nodded to me. "I don''t know what kind of fire you lit under the asses of the Family and their sort, but they''ve been hustling to get work done. I think almost every plumber in the city has work now, and plenty of others too." "That''s good," I said. "It''ll keep people busy on top of fixing things." It was probably good for the economy or something too. I gave myself a pat on the back for that one. "It''s costing the city billions," Brown said. "But it was going to cost the city that much anyway. It would be a lot less if things weren''t so under maintained to begin with, but there''s not much we can do about that now." I followed him into the command room and then paused to take in the big sewer map on the far wall. There was still red. Lots of red, and now some of it was flashing purple, which seemed somehow more urgent. But, at the same time, there was a lot more orange than there had been, and the number of pins showing where workers were located had increased exponentially. "Looks like you guys are actually getting shit done," I said. Brown grunted. "We''re trying, ma''am, and I hope that it''ll count for something in the end." "I think it will," I said. My entire life, I''d been left to fend for me and mine because no one was trying much of anything to help. On the rare occasion when someone would try... well, it counted for a lot, even if it didn''t amount to much. "Is there anything you need me to look at? People you need me to threaten for things to get done faster?" "You want to threaten people?" Button-up asked. "Want to? Yes, actually. And also, it''s a great way to actually get things done, I''ve discovered." *** Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Three Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Three Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Three It only took her a few moments to realise that she had no idea of what to do. Fortunately, that was easily remedied. "Hey, Lynus. Where''s the biggest source of trouble?" I don''t have access to direct communications to any satellite network, or to any non-public network systems. But, from the heatmaps available on open news websites, your home is on the outer edge of the orange zone. There are reports on social media of small groups of antithesis penetrating local mega buildings. "Yeah, but I''m looking for big numbers," Daisy said. She had an eye up to the sky, where a drizzle of rain was starting to fall. She wasn''t sure it would do anything for the massive fires further in. Perhaps smaller numbers are what you should aim for, at least for the moment. She shook her head, tucking her Pillowfriend''s stock against her shoulder. "I don''t do things by halves," she said. I see. In that case, ground level is where you''ll find most adversaries. Head north and east, towards the fires. "Easy enough," she said. It really wasn''t all that easy to get to the ground floor, but she did manage it, taking some emergency exits without a care for the alarms she set off, then crossing over to a smaller building via sky bridge. That building was a commercial centre, no housing, plenty of stores and offices. It had a lot more walkability than her home building, and that made it all the easier to get down to the ground. The streets were a mess. They''d always been a mess, but right then it was worse than usual. Cars were parked along the sides of the road, moved there automatically by their auto-drivers to make room for emergency vehicles to take over the middle of the street. She saw APCs rushing by, mostly heading in the same direction as her. Ambulances were rushing the other way, lights and sirens blaring. The few people she saw out were running, heads low as if that would help them any. Two blocks until you''re at the cordon around the red zone. "Cordon?" she asked. Incursion cordons are a standard operating procedure. A cordon is created around the centre of an incursion and lined with inwards-pointing defences. It keeps the incursion contained. "Ah, alright," Daisy said. She supposed that made sense. The first she saw of the cordon wasn''t the cordon itself, but the road leading up to it. Forklifts were grabbing cars, lifting them up, and pulling them away. It cleared room on the road for the massive tents and temporary buildings going up all along the road. APCs were emptying out troops all over, and the air above was filled with hovering drones. There was a non-stop cackle of loudspeakers as troops talked between each other and orders were relayed. It was chaotic, but chaos that was at once contained and somewhat orderly. Distant cracks of gunshots lead her deeper in. Daisy walked as if she was allowed to be there, and as long as she didn''t step into the way of a tank, she figured she''d be getting pretty far in before things became troublesome. That''s how she found the wall. It was a temporary thing, obviously. An entire movable wall that had been moved on the back of a pair of semis that were shoved off to one side. The wall had a large gate in its middle, and two stubby towers on the ends. It was some five metres tall, all metal, with a walkway near the top, and a second perimeter made of freshly crushed cars right behind it. What are you looking for? "I''m going to need armour. Better gear." She loked her jaws, then suppressed a winced at a few more gunshots going off nearby. "New ears too. Make self-augmentation a priority, I don''t need tinnitus." "Ma''am," the soldier said. Daisy blinked at them, finally sparing some attention for the soldier. "What?" "We insist that new samurai stay away from the front lines. Please. There are people here to assist you an--" "I don''t need people," Daisy said. She walked past the soldier, starting for the next set of stairs down from the wall. She only paused when she noticed another wave coming. This time she scored three quick kills. It still wasn''t enough, but it was better than nothing. Some assistance might not hurt. "Having to deal with people will," Daisy said. She considered staying on the wall. It seemed relatively safe for the moment. In fact, she paused by the stairs and turned back only to march up to the soldier. "Get me an extension." "What?" "An extension cord. A wire? Something to plug things into? You know what I mean?" The soldier hesitated, then nodded and ran off. Are you going to get help after all? "No. I''m going to make enough points here to get some basics. Then I''m going to head off on my own. How many full-power shots do I have left?" Nineteen. She nodded. "I''m going to need a better gun, too. This one will serve as a holdout in the meantime, I guess." She eyed the space on the other side of the wall. There were people over there. This was a huge chunk of the city that was being cordoned off. Which meant that they were probably only dealing with the few, weaker aliens making it to the edges still. If she wanted the big points, she''d need to dive in deeper. The soldier returned with an extension cable just as Daisy''s gun was running on fumes. She plugged it in to recharge, then appropriated another soldier''s rifle. An hour of this, she decided. She''d hold this wall, upgrade herself and her kit for one hour. And then she''d be moving out, past the cordite-filled air and into the ruins. If she absolutely had to do some work, then she''d do it right. *** Chapter Forty-Seven - Feline Fringe Chapter Forty-Seven - Feline Fringe Chapter Forty-Seven - Feline Fringe "I know it was very hard for you not to accept those bribes. That was very big of you, and I''m proud. Here, you can have this. "Yes, it is a gold star! Good job!" --Grasshopper, to the CEO of GeneriCorp, 2056 *** I trudged home about three hours after dark, stinking of shit and probably sweat, and far more exhausted than I should have been. I was on vacation, for fuck''s sake. Groaning, I kicked off my boots by the entrance. I''d bully one of the kittens into rinsing them off later. Then another one to do it again, but right that time. My coat went onto a rack by the entrance (when had Lucy gotten that?) and then I slipped further into my place on socked feet. I only started to suspect that something was weird when I was nearing the living room. It was quiet. My place was many things, but quiet wasn''t one of them. The kittens had sleep schedules scattered all around the clock at random, and none of them were discreet or quiet for a single day in their lives. I tugged my Trenchmaker out from its holster. "Myalis, should I be worried?" I asked. No. At least, not to the extent that you need to be armed. I lowered the gun, then slid it away as I entered the living room. Everyone was here, and sitting on the floor. The couches had been pushed back so that the centre of the room was cleared out. Cushions were piled onto the floor. I had no idea where they''d come from, because they didn''t look like anything we had. The kittens were laid out across the room, with... paper notepads in hand or on their laps, and pencils. Old-school graphite pencils, with the yellow sides and little pink eraser on the top, like something out of a museum. "Cat!" Lucy said. She waved from a spot on the far end of the room, then she patted the edge of the cushion she was on. "There''s room for you here." "Hello, Stray Catherine," said the only person who could have orchestrated this. Grasshopper was at the front of the room, a proper blackboard behind her. She was dressed in a summer dress, deep blue, with crooked stars across it. She was waving with her two right hands while her left was on her hip, and her other left arm was writing on the board behind her. What jumped to me more than the extra arms were her glasses. A pair of thick things, like the bottoms of old glass bottles, but cut so that they had hundreds of tiny facets that were filled with reflections of her glowing eyes. "Uh, hey Grasshopper," I said. "What''s all this?" "We''re learning about statistics," Grasshopper said. She clapped her lower hands together. I squinted. I couldn''t tell which pair were her original arms. "You should join us!" "I think I''m good," I said. "Statistics are exceptionally useful to know," she said. "They might be nothing but lies, but they''re lies that approximate truth. For example, everyone, what''s the statistical likelihood that Catherine has done her homework?" "Mhm. Only took her like, half an hour, and she made this stir-fry with real chicken and everything," Lucy said. I started to rub some shampoo into my hair, a handful, because I didn''t need any stink lingering. I still hadn''t recoloured my bang. I''d have to look into that soon, the colour was fading. "Sounds like I missed out," I said as I dug my nails into my scalp. "Today turned into a long day." "Sewer stuff?" Lucy asked. "Yeah. I didn''t even get to the clinic stuff. That''ll have to wait for tomorrow." "Oh! I got ahead of you there. At least until Grasshopper arrived. I invited See-Three and some of her friends to check the floor below out. They were properly spooked when they learned they''d be squished between two samurai''s homes." "Did they come?" I asked. Lucy shrugged. "They said they''d be here tomorrow. Also, I think once she thought about it, then got used to the idea. It''s not a bad spot to be in." "Do you think the clinic will need the whole floor?" "Weren''t they going to just use a little storefront?" Lucy asked. "If that was enough, then I don''t see why they''d need that much more room. Maybe some more, but not a whole floor." I agreed. And it would be so much easier and cheaper to only have to fix up one corner of the floor below for the prosthetics clinic. The rest of the space... meh. It could stay empty for now. We''d figure out something to do with it later. "Think we could fit more shops downstairs?" "What, like a merch store?" Lucy asked. "No, not that," I said as I rinsed off. I gestured after shutting the water, and Lucy grabbed a towel and tossed it into the shower so I could dry off while still warm. "I think I could use some space for Kitten stuff," Lucy said. It took me a split second to catch on to what she meant. Kittens as in the group we''d left in Burlington. Which... we''d kind of left in the hands of a sex android and some dozen volunteers. It had worked out well enough at the time. "You want to make something of that?" "You know, I always dreamed of running my own gang," Lucy said. "This is basically the same idea, isn''t it?" "If you''re going to make it a whole gang, you''ll need a better name than Kittens," I said. I pinched a corner of the towel and used it to wipe out the inside of my cat ears. Water always got caught in there. "The Killer Kittens?" Lucy tried. I laughed. "Still too cute." "Well, whatever. There aren''t any rules against having a cute gang." "I feel like there might be," I said. "Like, unspoken rules, but still rules." "You try then," Lucy goaded. "Hmm, the Cat-astrophes?" Lucy threw my underwear at my face. "Veto!" she said. "Now get dressed, because Grasshopper has to dress you down for not doing your homework!" *** Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Four Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Four Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Four Separating herself from the soldiers was almost hard. They didn''t want her to leave. It almost came to blows, because Daisy decided that if these grown-ass men needed a little girl to protect them so much, then maybe they didn''t deserve to be on the front lines after all. She was testing her grip on her pistol when reason, and order from above, finally came through and they let her leave. "How many?" she asked. You have nine hundred and twelve points. For an hour''s work, that wasn''t too bad. It was mostly from little models, and a few shots she took at some fliers. Her firepower didn''t add too much to what the wall could handle, really. But the soldiers seemed to enjoy the bright actinic flashes of her gun going off and frying aliens from afar. Now she was on the other side of the wall, out in the open. Daisy glanced up over her shoulder and at the wall itself. The soldiers up there were almost impossible to see, especially with the strong lights in front of them. She narrowed her eyes, then took off jogging towards a nearby building. These first few minutes were where she''d be the most vulnerable. "Okay. Here''s the order of things. I need armour. Something light and that''ll let me move." An armoured skinsuit? "Sure," she said. "Make sure it has some pockets." Noted. "Next. Guns. Bigger ones... Actually, scratch that. Can we do cybernetics?" Of course. What are you thinking about? "I want better eyes. I''ll need better lungs. And I want something to heal in case I get hit," Daisy said. "In that order." That''ll start to cost a lot. Especially if you still want weapons and armour. She considered it, then nodded. "Eyes first. And... can we do something to let me control things with my mind?" Yes. That''ll be costly, however, but I''m certain we can fit it into your budget. Perhaps wait on the lungs? "Alright," Daisy said as she slipped into a building. It was some sort of office space, with the walls torn off the front which gave her plenty of access to the interior. She crouched a little as she ran. The first washroom she found past the lobby was good enough, she figured, even if the lights were off within. The emergency light over the door cast everything in a deep, unsightly red, but it was enough to see by. Alright! Let''s start with that suit. Here are some options. Daisy found herself looking at a small screen with several suits on it. A flick down of her eyes let her scroll down, and down... and down. "How many are here?" she asked. Each suit looked like a form-fitting uniform. Some looked like they were painted on... specifically, painted on a very precise image of herself. She glanced down at her belly. She was thin. She took all the meds to stay that way, and her extracurriculars were generally pretty physically demanding, enough to keep her fit. Her diet was pretty careful too... except for on Sundays. There was a tiny bit of a ponch on her belly, one that she''d never been that self-conscious about until she had to look at a thousand images of herself in a suit of armour that made diving suits look baggy. "Maybe something a little bit armoured?" she asked. "Then give me something to heal," Daisy said. She walked over to the sink and tested it. There was water. She started opening drawers, but found no paper towels, so she kicked open a toilet paper dispenser and grabbed one of the fresher rolls within. "What am I getting here?" she asked. An infection, if you plan on using that to assist you with any sort of eye extraction. Daisy sighed. She hated it when adults stood between her and the most effective path to something. She''d hoped her AI, at least, wouldn''t be the same. "Fine. I guess twenty points isn''t much." Thank you. It''ll be significantly less traumatic. "I don''t have time for trauma," Daisy said. Not even on Sundays? "Why would I waste a Sunday on being traumatised?" she asked. I see. If you''re going through with this... the control system you spoke of earlier. I was going to suggest an electro-impulse detection rig. A system placed over your scalp, or within, that detects patterns of thought and translates them into usable data. "Oh," Daisy said. "I was imagining an implant." I figured as much. That''ll be... another operation. But if you''re going to rip your eyes out of your skull you might as well use the hole. "Reasonable," Daisy said. No... no I don''t think it is. But I''m not going to stop you either. Let me tally everything up. In the meantime, please describe what you''re looking for in your new eyes? "Range, colour-accuracy, low-light vision, better interfacing with my augs. Or... I suppose I should get new augs outright." I can fold those into the interface you''re looking for. Speaking of which, why are you looking into that kind of interface? "I want to control guns with my mind," Daisy said. "Big ones. That float." I... see. I think I can get something like that to work. This will likely drain all of your points, however. You might have to wait on the new weapons and other equipment you want and need. "Well, I''m in the right place for making more points, aren''t I?" Daisy asked. "Let''s aim for stuff that''s good enough that I won''t have to replace it. I don''t want to rip my eyes out twice in one day." Lynus didn''t seem to have anything to say about that. "I meant, like, twice... twice, because I have two." Yes, I understood the maths and the meaning, thank you. "Alright," Daisy said with a shrug. In the end, the AI''s suggestions were far from what Daisy wanted, but weren''t all that bad all the same. A small, discardable machine she could place on the bathroom''s counter to do the surgery, some medication, a single eye, and a very nice, rather expensive, new augmentation that would slowly map out her brain and create a branching sense of proprioception and motion for her to control. Similar things were on the market already, for people with purely cybernetic limbs, or people operating tanks and aircraft. This would be the same, but a little better. She''d keep mum about it, she decided, because having a lot of wires in one''s brain seemed like a private matter. The one eye replaced her right. She didn''t like the feel of it. Not that it hurt, but it was wrong to only have one eye be upgraded. In fact... it made her question the rest of herself. "Weapons next," she said as she picked up her Pillowfriend and checked its charge. "Then the second eye, ears, and lungs. By the end of the day I want to be able to hunt bigger game." *** Chapter Forty-Eight - Recreational Respiratory Deterioration Chapter Forty-Eight - Recreational Respiratory Deterioration Chapter Forty-Eight - Recreational Respiratory Deterioration "Do you suffer from Agoraphobia? Fear of open spaces is entirely natural. Most mammalian creatures live in tight, secure dens, and exploring the wider world is a dangerous thing! There''s no shame in being afraid of stepping outside of the comfort of your megabuilding, but it can be a little awkward. PsyOPs is here to help! Our three-month all-VR training course will slowly push past your agoraphobia. In no time at all, you''ll be walking under the sun and stars with a bright smile on your face! Contact us today for pricing plans!" --Anti-Agoraphobia advertisement, 2047 *** The next day was a vacation day. I wasn''t heading out to snoop around the sewers. I wasn''t saving the city. I was going to work on my hobbies until sometime in the afternoon when See-Three and her pals were going to show up. That was a later problem, and... yeah, it wasn''t much of a problem at all. I''d change into something nicer and less stained for the occasion, then say hello and walk them around. I wasn''t worried about it. What I was worried about was getting some sensation back into my hands. "Fuck, it''s cold," I said. The current temperature is four degrees celsius, which is approaching cold, yes. The humidity is making it far worse, I suspect. I cupped my hands before my mouth and blew some hot air between them. I was seriously considering a change of venue for my mechanical work. Mostly, doing it just outside was fun. If I needed a snack, I was only a hop away from the kitchen. Needed to shit? The bathroom was right there. It was nice and convenient. But not when I was freezing so hard that I was having a hard time picking up the pieces on my workbench. Besides, I''d been dealing with wind and rain a lot too. There was a reason people did things indoors. "Probably not good for my lungs, either," I muttered. Are you speaking about being outdoors? "Yeah," I said. The level of VOCs in this region is quite high. I suspect that the time you spend out here every day is leading to increased deterioration of your lungs. I coughed, but it was mostly because we were talking about it. Imagining cancer-causing stuff going down my throat made it feel scratchy. "That''s... not ideal," I said. "Right," I said. "Do you still only have one bedroom?" Franny flushed, then levelled a glare at me. "If, if you must know, we do," she said. "Oh-hoh!" I said. Gomorrah was my best samurai friend at this point, so poking at her private life was definitely not something I should be doing... but it was definitely something I''d be doing anyway, because I was a bitch like that. "Nothing like that''s happened," Franny said. "Really?" I asked. "You''re sleeping in the same room, but not... you know." Franny sniffed. "We''re saving that kind of thing for after marriage." I... didn''t know what to say about that. Maybe ''poor Gomorrah'' or maybe it was more ''poor Franny,'' but that was on them. "Okay," I said. "I won''t dig if you don''t want. Can''t say the same for Lucy though, but if you lay down the law, she''ll probably leave you alone." Franny let out a long breath. "Thanks," she said. "This whole thing is... new for Delilah and I. We''re both kind of feeling our way through this." I nodded along. I had no idea what that was like, but I could imagine it. "So, things going well enough, otherwise?" "Yes. Slower than I''d like, but I think faster than we''d have any right to expect. I think by this time next week we''ll be settled in," she said. "It''ll be nice to have a place to crash that isn''t the convent. What about you?" "Eh, still on vacation," I said with a shrug. "Probably not for very long." I wasn''t paying too much attention to the news, because I never liked that kind of reality entertainment stuff, but I was still vaguely aware that things weren''t all rainbows and puppies past the new walls of New Montreal. There were plenty of cities in a rough shape, and hives growing all over the damned place. I''d have to move out sooner rather than later, do my part and all that. But that could wait another day or two. I... had maybe been pushing myself before. Non-stop action with no breaks and mounting stress and responsibility. It was getting to me. The pace of the last couple of days was much more relaxed. It felt... off, to only have time off like this. I was almost looking forward to being back on the front lines. Weird how that worked out. "Hey, you lemme know what Gom has to say about me using the corner of the garage. And if you need anything, just... I don''t know, come knock at our door." "Like to ask for milk?" Franny asked. "I don''t know if we have any, but hey, if you need cookies or something, I think we have, like, six brands," I said with a grin. I gestured to the floor above. "I need to head back up. I''ll get my mech down... later today, somehow, then we''ll see about walling off a corner." I had that meeting with See-Three, then it was a full day of rest for me. Perfect! *** Interlewd Five Interlewd Five Interlewd Five Delilah was somewhere approaching exhausted when she arrived at... home? She wasn''t sure if the place was home yet. She flew the Fury around the building a couple of times, idly watching the fading sunlight play across the silvery cat sitting atop the skyscraper. It was... extremely gaudy. Cheesy, even. But also very Cat, and very samurai. Most corps shied away from anything this overt. That was asking for trouble. Cat didn''t seem to even have a second to spare to wonder about her appearance when it came to this kind of thing. Which was one of the big reasons why Delilah... Gomorrah, chose to make this place her home. It was an overt declaration. ''A samurai lives here. Don''t mess with it.'' And she liked that. Driving the Fury around, she slid into the parking garage and into her slot. Soon she''d have a parking spot for the Fury in her part of the building, but for now this place was private and secure enough. She wasn''t impressed with Cat''s security so far. It was lackadaisical. Some turrets tucked away on the outside of the building, none hard enough to break through the armour of a flying APC. It was enough to deter civilians, maybe, but that was it. She was working on upgrades, which started with the suite of flamethrowers tucked into the roof of the elevators. Anyone riding it with ill intent would reach their destined floor as char. She''d be adding more, of course. Scanners, and security drones on patrol routes. Some flamer turrets here and there. Maybe some missile pods hidden in the walls able to fire out of the building? She didn''t plan on turning it into a fortress... just a place that would be so costly to attack that it wasn''t worth it. Her home, when it became home, would be safe. For her, and for... For Franny. Delilah swallowed. She''d gone a whole ten minutes without thinking of Franny. Almost a record. She had no idea what Franny was to her at the moment. A girlfriend? Maybe? She hoped. They certainly kissed like girlfriends did. They were getting better at it. No more clicking teeth together, no more bruised noses. Though... the fumbling early stuff had been nice too, in a way. Inexperience and awkwardness all led to something that was as funny as it was... hot. Delilah found herself licking her lips. She wanted that taste again. Franny liked a particular brand of lip balm. It was minty. Delilah wasn''t a big fan of mint anything. From cookies to toothpaste, she found the taste too strong. She loved it on Franny''s lips. The elevator opened so suddenly that Delilah jumped a little. Atyacus sent her augs a silent report from the house. There wasn''t much to report, really. Everything was still under construction. She stepped out and took it all in. More walls had been added, but they were unpainted and rough still. The construction drones were deeper in, moving at a snail''s pace as they lifted a precut piece of metal and then bolted it into place on some framing. Her home wouldn''t have anything flammable in it. That meant metal walls and tile floors. It would be tricky to decorate, but that would come in time. "Oh." Delilah turned, then paused to take in Franny. She was standing there, out of her habit. Instead, Franny was in tattered, very tight jeans, with a belt that looked like it had little bullet casings all around it. Her shirt was a size too small. Maybe two, judging by the amount of stomach it left exposed, and the way it clung around her chest. "Hi," Delilah said as her brain engaged. She blinked as she finally noticed Franny''s hair. Or one lock of it, in any case. It was a bright, almost neon blue. It clashed hard with Franny''s natural, orange-y hair. "Welcome home," Franny said with a grin. She was blushing a little. It was always very obvious with her, her skin was too pale to hide it, and her freckles stood out whenever that line of red blossomed across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. "Yeah," Delilah said. "It''s nice to be back. Did... did you need a ride back, or something?" It was getting kind of late. Delilah wouldn''t mind driving Franny back though. "I thought I''d stay the night," Franny said. "Oh," Delilah replied. She could feel the blood rushing up to her face, but she willed it away. "Is the guest bedroom done?" Delilah, in a fit of what was possibly divine inspiration or insanity, had told Franny that Franny was in charge. She''d dropped the reins of whatever power they had in their relationship by Franny''s feet, and decided that that was... that. The memory of what she''d done, in their old classroom, no less, was seared into her mind to this day, and would likely stay there until she died as either one of the most... arousing or embarrassing moments of her life. Maybe both. Franny had decided to use that right that Delilah had given her. It happened in Burlington, a few awkward days later. After some kissing, Franny had demanded to know what Delilah''s limits were. The idea didn''t seem like one that came from Franny. Delilah suspected Lucy was to blame, but... she wasn''t all that disappointed by it. Franny had Delilah''s permission to do whatever she wanted with Delilah, and the first thing she did with that was ask Delilah what her limits were. It was extremely sweet. Delilah had to think on it, but she''d eventually drawn a line, and it was a hard one to follow. She didn''t want sex. Actually, no, that was an awful lie. Delilah wanted sex a lot, with Franny, at a frequency that was likely unhealthy. What she meant was she didn''t want... intercourse? Penetration? She didn''t want to spoil herself, not before marriage. It was stupid, and antiquated, and even a little haughty. Delilah was terrified that Franny would laugh at her, or push past that line (and Delilah would fold, because she''d given Franny that right, and she wanted it as much as she didn''t), but Franny had been beautiful. They hadn''t pushed things since. Oh, there was lots of kissing. Very nice kissing. Some hugging. A few... many moments where hands wandered. Franny seemed to really enjoy Delilah''s breasts, which Delilah enjoyed the enjoying of. Delilah snapped out of her state of wasteful pining and followed after Franny, who was already far ahead. She found the redhead in the bedroom, folding the blow-up mattress up into its little box. The main floor space was clear and empty. "I made room for the bed," Franny said. "Well, more room, there''s only a chair, really." Delilah nodded, then paused. There was a chair. A nice, plush one that she didn''t recognize at all. "Where did you get that?" "It was in the building already," Franny said. "I think it was in some C-suite office? It''s kinda heavy, but nice. I washed it off, so it''s fine." It was a nice chair, a bit modern, all leather. She didn''t know if it fit, but she didn''t complain, not when it accounted for... almost one hundred percent of her furniture at the moment. "Right, a bed," Delilah said. She started to subvocalize with Atyacus. A bed wouldn''t come in a box, she hoped. The AI was usually good at pointing her towards what she needed, but he also tried to upsell her often. In this case, she wasn''t sure she needed a self-heating and cooling bed... until she started to think about it. A warming bed would mean that she couldn''t naturally gravitate towards the nearest source of warmth, who might also be occupying the bed. That would be nice, actually. And blankets. Two sets. It didn''t take long before the order was up, and she asked Franny to step aside even if she was in the clear. With a thump, a bed appeared. It was done up with blankets already. Black and white, with a faint flame pattern embroidered into them. A bit... on the nose, but not too badly so. It was large too. King-sized, or something close to that. Its footprint was almost as large as her car''s. "Nice!" Franny said. She hopped up, knees first onto the bed, then bounced onto it, rolling onto her back with a laugh. "Oh, it''s sinky." "It can harden," Delilah said. "Or... change consistencies, I suppose. So you don''t move as much as you sleep. And it stays warm or cool." "That''s interesting," Franny said. "I''d never really thought about... bed technology, before." She reached towards the pillows, grabbing one and hugging it even as she sat up. There were two small thuds as she kicked her shoes off over the side. Franny eyed Delilah. Delilah stared back. Then Franny smiled. "Sit," she said. *** Chapter Forty-Nine - I Spy with my Meaty Eye Chapter Forty-Nine - I Spy with my Meaty Eye Chapter Forty-Nine - I Spy with my Meaty Eye "Space is a commodity that few people recognize until they''re stuffed into a room the size of a closet and told that this is their home." --Jim Moom, Warden of CNW Indebted Credit Repayment Facility, #147, 2036 *** I got back into the elevator, rode past Gomorrah''s floor, then stopped at the level above. That was where See-Three and I were supposed to be meeting. Of course, she wasn''t there yet. I''d know if she was, because I was in the nearest parking garage all of a minute ago, and I didn''t see her showing up. So, I was going to be unfashionably early, but that was alright. I kind of wanted an idea of the lay of the floor first. "Lemme know when See-Three arrives," I said. Can do. With that set up, I started to look around the floor. It was actually pretty large, once I looked past all the shit in the way. Unlike the floor below, where Franny and Delilah had ripped down all of the walls and made space for things, this one was still largely occupied by stuff. Notably, there were old offices here. The floor being as big as it was meant that there was room for several firms in here. There was a law firm, an accounting place, some online retailer''s physical location, then a few rent-a-day offices. The sorts of places with okay-enough internet (with free spyware, probably), little cubicles, free coffee of the undrinkable kind, and some second hand furniture. They were places that someone could rent by the day, or have the company that hired them for remote work rent for a day. Probably for way too much too. The place had a small lobby space at the front, with seats and a desk with bullet-proof glass for a secretary, and then the offices were behind that, in a series of cubicles, some of which were still standing. That... might not be the worst spot for that clinic, actually. It had a space for people to wait in at the front, and as I explored the back, turning on lights as I went, I discovered a couple of generic meeting rooms, probably also rentable, and a corner office at the very back with a view. A shitty one, delivered through two narrow windows, but still, a view. And that back room had plugs and lights and an office chair that was missing one of those rollers at the bottom. It was better than nothing, I figured. See-Three has arrived along with two companions. "Good timing," I said. "Is she on this floor yet?" The coffee shop was a fresh idea, but not one I''d dismiss so easily. Maybe I could use it as a way to get the kittens upstairs to work. They''d finally earn their keep, and it could serve as a way for them to earn some change. I didn''t have illusions about housing them forever. One day they''d want to move on, and having both work experience and credits on hand would help a lot with that. Lucy would... probably just find more orphans to fill the void. "This is it," I said with a gesture at the place. It was better to move on before my thoughts spiralled and I eventually decided that we all needed therapy or something. See-Three eyed the office front. The corridor lights were down, but I suspected that all of us here had enough cyberware to see in the low-light. At least the lights within were on, and they painted the lobby as... well, a sterile, very inoffensive lobby, minus a few chairs and potted plants. "It''s larger than the space we had before," she said. "There''s a lobby to get people to sit down and shut up in, then offices at the back," I said as I opened the door and let everyone in. Then I moved ahead, feeling a bit like a realtor as I showed the space off. "There''s a heavy door between the lobby and the back. Not sure how tough it actually is, but it''s something." "I see," See-three said. "And then we have the cubicle farm," I said as I gestured grandly. "It''s... not much to look at, but it''s better than nothing. We can toss all of this shit out, or shove it into the printing machine to break it down. Then we''ll have plenty of room." "Can we renovate this?" See-Three asked. "It''s basically my building, so... consider yourself permitted. I''d lend you the construction or repair drone to help, but it''s a bit busy. Still, I think we can get something temporary set up quickly enough." See-Three nodded quickly. "It''s a lot of space. We''ll use it well." "There''s the back here too," I said as I led them in deeper. "There are two meeting rooms. Honestly, it might be worthwhile to turn at least one into something else? Like a place for patients or something?" "A convalescence room," See-Three suggested. "Post-op, a lot of people need a few hours, sometimes a day or two, on their back. Especially for more complex operations. Most places will shove you in a taxi and you have to hope you can make it to your bed." "Mhm. There''s a small break room, a changing room, and some bathrooms. Honestly, I think you might want to look into hiring a full-time nurse or something while you''re at it." See-Three took a deep breath. "Yes. I think we might have to do just that. This is... growing to be bigger than I expected." "Ah, it''s not so bad, is it? Look! Free corner office. With a view!" *** Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Five Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Five Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Five Daisy wasn''t... quite satisfied with what she had. The armour she''d bought was fantastic. She could admit to that much as she stared at her image in the bathroom mirror. She looked like a samurai. Someone riding the technological edge, more than human. She had never been a big fan of samurai stuff in general. She saw it the same way others saw sports fans who gushed about their favourite teams, or gamers who liked one game a little too much. It was, to use a word from her dad''s generation, a bit cringe. Still, samurai were real in a way that sports and such weren''t, and now she looked like one. The suit made her look lethal. But she didn''t feel lethal beneath it. She had one eye that was brand new. Its weight was ever so slightly off, and when she looked around the room, things were in a strange contrast. Her flesh eye unable to make out the faint details hidden in shadows that her cybernetic eye could see in perfect clarity. Her flesh eye had to focus. Her new one was focused on everything in its range, all at once. It was sharp. Almost painfully so. That was it. One tiny bit of her that was better than anyone else. It wasn''t enough. How are you feeling? "Alright," Daisy said. She adjusted her grip on her Pillowfriend. "I want more points." That''s a reasonable desire for a Vanguard. Fortunately, you''re in the right place for it. Though you should be aware that once this incursion is cleared out, making more points may take some time. "Right. Plan for scarcity," Daisy replied with a nod. It made perfect sense to her. She was vaguely aware that she''d be receiving some daily allotment of points as well, but those were a pittance. Certainly not enough to get what she wanted. "Where''s the biggest source of action?" Two blocks away from your current position is a team consisting of several soldiers currently on retreat. It''s not the largest source of action, but it''s close. She hummed, then with a shrug, abandoned the washroom. Lynus had provided her with a small in-aug minigame that she could play. It was very simple. A sort of Simon-says game where she had to repeat a sequence. The sequence was made up of arrows and colours. The trick was that she had to hit them using the new neural mesh they''d just installed. It was giving her a low-level headache, trying to think hard about ''up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right,'' while doing other things. It was a way to split her attention that she wasn''t honestly sure she could keep up, but her AI assured her that it would become easier as she went along. Stepping out of the building she was in, Daisy found herself looking at the wall again. It was much clearer now, thanks to her new eye. It compensated nearly for the glare of the floodlights, and she could make out individual faces. She couldn''t wait to have two. "Mark this location for me," she said. Done. "Bad how?" Daisy asked. "Harder to make points with?" She took another shot, nailing a model three in the eye and killing it with only that one strike. She made note to aim for the eyes in the future, to save on charge. The antithesis rarely operate intelligently unless directed. There are only a few models that can do tactical thinking of this sort. None of them are models you''re necessarily ready to handle. "Worse case?" Daisy asked. A model twenty-seven. That is unlikely. You''re far more likely in the influence range of a model seventeen. You''re going to need to look out for model sevens. "Shit," Daisy said as she glanced back at the refugees. How many of them were infected? She hopped down from her position, then gestured one of the soldiers closer. "Who''s in charge here?" she asked. The soldier pointed to another with some stripes on their back and shoulders. The antithesis didn''t pick out officers, there was no reason to hide who was in charge. Daisy ran over to him, and the overworked, clearly tired man turned her way. "Yes?" he asked. "We''re evacuating." "We''re not done pulling people from the rubble," he said. "We''re moving anyway," Daisy said. Those left behind would feed the hive. It was better than losing those they''d saved. "Once you get to the wall, quarantine everyone. There are model sevens here." "Shit," he swore, but noticeably, he didn''t argue. Daisy nodded, then glanced back at the refugees. "Stay back, or escort," she muttered. Only one of those would feed her the points she wanted. "Tell me everything I need to know about that model seventeen," Daisy demanded. They''re relatively small models, smaller even than model threes, with an exceptionally tough carapace lined by eyes. The model is able to lay small eggs that almost immediately hatch into worms, including the model sevens so commonly worried about. They also create small worms that can lay down silken communication lines, and models similar to model sevens which are given to weaker models to assist them in coordinating. "So it''s small and easy to kill?" Daisy asked. And worth a number of points. But they''re unlikely to be loud, or visible. "That can''t be that hard to fix," Daisy replied. She liked having a target. *** Chapter Fifty - A Date Among Ghosts Chapter Fifty - A Date Among Ghosts Chapter Fifty - A Date Among Ghosts "The nice thing about VR dating is that it''s a lot less about how you look and who you are physically, than it is about your personality, the way you present yourself. It''s not fair, sometimes, that some people are born ugly, or end up unattractive, but in the Mesh, you don''t judge people based on the circumstances of their birth. You judge them based on the fandom they picked their avatar from." --Meshizen Interview, 2039 *** The meeting with See-Three continued for another half hour. Really, other than exploring the space, there wasn''t that much to do. See-Three took some notes of what they''d need, but most of those things were still at the first clinic location. It would just be a question of moving things from one place to another, which anyone with a car could manage.Discover new chapters at novelhall.com "If it''s acceptable to start things without fully renovating the space," See-Three said. "Then I think we can open the clinic within a day or two... definitely leaning more towards two." Two days was very acceptable. See-Three and I shook over it all, and I told her that if she needed anything specific, she just had to let me know. It would take a good long while to renovate the clinic properly, but with the amount the clinic would be charging for its services (basically fuck all) I expected that some of the people using it would be willing to pitch in to help a little. We''d need chairs, benches, and a secretary. Further down the line, we''d need proper renovations too. Walling off some parts, fixing up the floors and ceiling lights. Normal maintenance shit too. Maybe a sign out front? In any case, I expected that to kind of just happen organically. The people we were serving were exactly the kind of people that wouldn''t want to get served in a full-on corpo-chic place. Being a little scuffed up would probably reassure them a lot. With that all taken care of, I decided to head back upstairs. I was starving, and I wanted to get back to work on the mech now that my fingers weren''t threatening to freeze off. I arrived upstairs via the elevator (man, this was unsafe. I needed to install an HMG or something by the entrance) and then almost ran into Lucy. "You''re back!" she said. "I never even left the building," I replied. On a whim, I wrapped my arms around Lucy''s shoulders. "Did you miss me so much?" "Mhm," she said. "I''m always worried. What if you decide you need a girlfriend on every floor, huh? What''ll I do then?" The taxi pulled into a drop-off zone a few floors below the top, then the doors locked while my augs got a ping from the taxi demanding that I pay up. I rolled my eyes and allowed the transaction. There was a faint hitch as Myalis noticed some fucky surcharges, then insisted on contacting support to have them removed. Since it was all automated, I imagined her ''contacting'' support was the equivalent of driving a tank through the wall of an office then waving the receipt around. It was fixed in a second or two, and I leapt out of the taxi and ran around to help Lucy out of her side. "Is this the place?" I asked. There were more ads here for the Hologardens, and I was faintly aware of more intrusive ads trying to get through my augs and bouncing like flies off of steel plating. "Mhm!" Lucy said as she leaned against my side. "It''s not much, really. I heard that it didn''t pull in nearly as many people as they wanted. Bad timing and everything, but there''s a nice walkabout, and there''s a zoo!" "A zoo?" I asked with a laugh. Actually, yeah, that tracked. Lucy had several terabytes of animal gifs with her at all times. It didn''t surprise me that she''d want to see the cute animals up close, and I really didn''t mind being with her while she coo''d and aww''d. We walked in, then passed an automated gate that asked us to pay to enter. I almost winced at the price before remembering that I wasn''t extraordinarily poor anymore. The entry cost was a pittance. Lucy picked up the pace, tugging me along after her and up an escalator that brought us up and into the gardens proper. The gardens were relatively large. Big trees flowing up, the ground around them covered in greenery, with wider, more open spots here and there. The crowd, as sparse as it was, was guided through the gardens via some walkways suspended a little bit over the ground. "Look!" Lucy said as she pointed to a holographic animal. It was a... gorilla? My augs pinged on it, and I got a pre-packaged dataset courtesy of the holozoo. It said that the last silverback had died in captivity some ten years ago, but the wild ones died out when the Congo rainforest was burned down to wipe out some hives hidden within. "They''re so big!" Lucy said. "Yeah," I agreed. "There''s some seals over there... seals don''t live in jungles, do they?" "I mean, maybe some of them?" "I''m pretty sure none of them," I said as we walked past the seal enclosure. There was a sort of pond that the holograms would dive into. The effects with the water left a lot to be desired. "There''s a place to eat, up ahead," Lucy said. "It''s a classic restaurant, with menus and everything." "Huh, alright," I said. "I could eat." Lucy beamed, and I grinned right back. This was a lot more fun than the dates we''d had before. Less stealing shit and running away, or ''dating'' while hiding in a closet somewhere. I think that this was quickly turning into the highlight of this vacation of mine. *** Stray Cat Strut - Book Five - A Young Ladies Guide to Interpersonal Ballistic Missiles, is Out! Stray Cat Strut - Book Five - A Young Ladies Guide to Interpersonal Ballistic Missiles, is Out! Hi! Sorry for the non-chapter post, but don''t worry, your regularly scheduled SCS chapter is coming up soon! But first... some news! Stray Cat Strut Volume Five is up on Amazon, Audible, and... actually, pretty much just those two! The start of next month is gonna be... real hecking busy, huh? But hey, more stories for everyone! I hope you enjoy SCS 5 if you buy it even more then don''t forget to leave a nice review and maybe some stars. I''ll be obsessing over the story''s stats for a few days. Keep warm, RavensDagge Chapter Fifty-One - Live Laugh Lobsters Chapter Fifty-One - Live Laugh Lobsters Chapter Fifty-One - Live Laugh Lobsters "Some traditions, rooted in various cultural hang-ups that we find distasteful, still survive to this day. A large part of that can be attributed to the prevalence of those traditional actions in the media we consume and the history and stories of our previous generations." --Excerpt from ''The Ongoing Tradition'' 2035 *** Lucy gasped. "Cat!" she said before leaning forwards and spinning the booklet she was holding around. The restaurant was a pretty fancy place. It was set a floor above the zoo, along one of the walls. There were big glass panels between us and the zoo itself, angled so that the seats closest to the wall could look down into the jungle-y gardens below, or up and through the large dome just above. The place was nice. With actual flesh-and-blood waitresses coming to the tables and paper menus to order from, like in an old-timey movie. The prices were not so old-timey, unfortunately. Not that I really minded too much. "What is it?" I asked as I squinted at the menu. Lucy was too excited to hold it level, so the words were bouncing around and hard to read. The pictures helped a little. "Is it the seafood dish?" "There''s lobster," she said. "It says it''s real lobster too." "Yeah, I guess," I said. "Can''t be that hard to grow some of those in captivity, right?" There was no way it was actually fished. If the weather over land was wild most of the time, then I couldn''t imagine how nasty it was over the ocean. And the ocean housed a lot of nasty alien bastards too. There was a constant move to cull them, but they''d come up to nibble on a fishing ship, I was sure. Besides, I was pretty sure that wild lobster was extinct. "This is rich people food," Lucy said. At rich people prices too. "Order some," I said. "There''s two claws, right? We can share one. Or is it the tail?" Lucy turned the menu around. "I don''t know. The picture is just a red thing. Oh, and it comes with brussel sprouts and a sauce and a salad!" I grinned. It was impossible not to when Lucy was this excited over food. For my part, I stuck to something that looked a little more down to earth. They didn''t have what I''d usually order at a restaurant, but that was probably for the best. Chicken nuggets and burgers didn''t seem very fancy. So I stuck to the pasta section and hoped that I didn''t make too much of a mess of my face while eating. Our waitress came over. A twenty-something girl with a few piercings that clashed with her uniform. She took our orders and was very patient when Lucy asked about how to eat lobster. "You do need to crack the shell. We serve the meal with some special cutlery to help." "Oh," Lucy said. "That''s cool! Cat, you''re stronger than me, can you help if it''s too hard?" "Uh, sure," I said. The waitress smiled, then left, and I found myself reaching a hand to the middle of the table. Lucy did the same, and our fingers entwined next to a very unnecessary scentless candle. "This is nice," Lucy said. "It''s better than some of the dining experiences I''ve had lately," I said. "Is this one of those ''would you love me if I were a worm'' things, but it''s about facial hair?" I asked. Lucy cackled, leaning back so far that her hand almost let go of mine as she laughed. "No, sorry, it''s not that. Uh, I don''t know how we got onto the subject." "It''s okay," I said. "Looks like the food''s coming." The waitress came around with a tray, this one covered with our drinks and entrees. We''d both ordered something a little alcoholic. I went for something simple, Lucy went for the cocktail with the fanciest name and which looked prettiest in its picture. It came in a weird cup with several umbrellas and slices from six different fruit. We, of course, sipped from each other''s drinks. Hers, for all of its overly fancy presentation, did taste a little better. I wasn''t even sure what brandy was before I ordered it, but it sounded cool and I only had to work a little not to make a face as I sipped at it. "Have you gotten any news from... what''s her name?" Lucy asked. "You''ll have to be a bit more detailed than that," I said. "Short, lasers, you said she had clones all over?" "Oh. Deus Ex? No, I haven''t heard back in a while. I don''t know if I can hear back. It''s not like there''s internet between here and Mars. Why did you want to know?" "Mild concern about the bigger picture stuff," Lucy said. "It''s all way, way out of my control, but I''d rather see shit coming than not." "Yeah, that''s fair, I guess," I said. The main course arrived just as we were finishing off our entrees, but I kept the conversation going throughout. "So, no news from here. Honestly, no news from the Martian front at all. I don''t know if that''s a bad thing or not." "I think it''s probably good," Lucy said. "Wouldn''t the Family let you know to prepare if things were going really bad?" "I hope so, yeah," I said. "Or things are going so bad that they won''t tell us anything because that''ll just make the last few days we have left all the more depressing." "Hmm, so nothing new there," Lucy agreed. "Nothing new," I repeated. Lucy did end up having trouble with her lobster. Or maybe she just wanted to let me feel good by cracking it open for her. I, of course, stole a bite. It was... alright. Not as good as a fresh vat-meat burger, but alright. "You know, if we''re all going to die horrible deaths, then at least we''ll get to die together," Lucy said. "Hmm... yeah, I''d like that. There''s no one I''d rather die with." "Love you too," Lucy said. She waited for me to be halfway through a sip before asking her next question. "So, when are you going to propose?" I, of course, gasped in a mouthful of brandy and proceeded to almost die. *** Chapter Fifty-Two - Cat Nap Wrap Chapter Fifty-Two - Cat Nap Wrap Chapter Fifty-Two - Cat Nap Wrap "If you can''t uwu with sincerity, then don''t owo with infidelity!" --Hyper Cutie Bubblechan Zoom Ranger Sparkle Girl, 2048 *** After dinner, and after my heart stopped trying to beat its way out of my chest, Lucy and I took a walk through the little park again, visiting the petting zoo off to one side of the gardens. They had real animals here. Or animatronics realistic enough to stink and poop. Lucy made all of the appropriate cooing noises as a little goat hopped its way over to her and accepted some loose goat mix from Lucy''s hand. "This place is nice," she said as she tried to scratch the goat''s head. It bobbed away, then hopped off when it saw that she had no food. "There''s a lot of nice places in New Montreal that we just never got to visit." "Yeah," I said as I kept my attention on Lucy. "There''s some beautiful things here." Lucy glanced up, then tugged a stray lock away from her face. "You''re silly," she declared.Discover new chapters at novelhall.com "No, you''re silly," I retorted with all due consideration. Lucy smiled, and as we continued our walk, she pressed herself into my side. I wrapped an arm around her waist, hand naturally finding its place on her hip. Lucy used that to press in even closer. It was a little cool at this end of the zoo, but we kept each other warm, even if we were only walking at the kind of pace that would make the geriatric think that we were going too slow. Lucy had brushed off her marriage joke earlier, and it was all forgotten by the time we got to dessert. Well, maybe she''d forgotten it. It was at the forefront of my mind at the moment, even if I was trying to push the thought away. It... it would happen, eventually. Probably. I was better at facing hordes of enemies than that kind of problem. "Should we go home?" Lucy asked as we started to come full circle around the zoo. We weren''t too far from the entrance, and I wasn''t feeling nearly as bloated now as I had felt just after eating. "Yeah, I guess so," I said. "Worried?" Lucy asked. "Hmm? About what?" "I don''t know. You''ve been taking some time off, even if it was all rather busy. I think it was good for you," Lucy said. "You don''t seem as stressed." "I don''t feel as stressed," I admitted. "But it also feels like there''s a ton of stuff that''s going to happen soon. The more I try to get things fixed, the deeper I get involved, the more I realize that the problems that caused the problems that caused the problems I want to fix are more complicated than I imagined." "Hmm, no, I think I''ll be staying closer to home," I said. "There''s something nice about sleeping in my own bed, you know?" "Oh, I think I do," Lucy purred. I grinned, then leaned into the side to press a kiss onto the top of her head. I wasn''t sure she felt it through her bushy hair, but that didn''t matter. We took a taxi back home, and maybe got a little handsy on the way back, at least until the taxi''s rudimentary AI warned us that by taking this taxi, we waived any rights to footage taken of us having fun in the back. Then it tried to sell us on a subscription to Feisty Taxi, which... no. The moment the car landed, we stumbled out of it and into the pouring evening rain. It was cold, and some of it immediately found its way past the collar of my coat. Still, it was kind of refreshing, and we both laughed as I tried to shield Lucy from the rain while running towards the front door. "So," Lucy said as she pressed a rain-wet kiss against my lips. "Ready for second dessert?" Someone cleared their throat, and I looked up to find Junior standing by the entrance, arms crossed and looking unimpressed. "Hey," I said. "Hey," she replied. "Before you two start your little rabbits-in-heat thing, you have a visitor." "Oh... shit. Wait, who is it?" I asked. "Delilah, from downstairs," Junior said, her posture relaxing, though she was looking at me with suspicion. "Is she actually your friend?" "Uh, yeah? Why wouldn''t she be?" "Because Delilah speaks and acts like someone who has their shit together," Junior said. "I kinda figured that people like that would have a natural aversion to our sort." Lucy laughed. "Delilah''s good people," she said before pulling away from me and adjusting her outfit. "I''ll go grab some drinks. You go chat with your friend." I watched her leave, then smacked my cheeks to help myself refocus. Delilah wasn''t the sort to interrupt things just-because. I found her in the living room, sitting on the edge of a couch and listening to Nose prattle on about... something that he''d hyper fixated on. "Oi, brat, leave Delilah alone for a bit," I said as I patted him on the head. He gave me the finger, then ran off, leaving us more or less alone in the busiest room of the house. "Hello," she said. "Hey. So, what''s up?" "The wall was breached," she said in a way that had a shiver running down my spine. "We''ve sealed it, killed the antithesis that made it through, but with so many PMCs moving to other cities, we''re going to see more trouble. That, and the antithesis are starting to act smarter." "Ah," I said. "Well, fuck, I guess vacation time really is over." *** Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Six Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Six Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Six Daisy very rapidly discovered that she had no talent for sussing out aliens who weren''t charging at her headlong. She watched from a slight rise in the ruins as the soldiers gathered up the civilians that could still walk into a single group. There was a heart-warming amount of camaraderie. The stronger helped to carry the weaker. Stretchers were made from spare coats and clothes and some boards or rebar. They probably wouldn''t last, but they didn''t need to. More were carried on backs or given a shoulder to lean on before the entire group started to shamble off. They were moving at a slow, shuffling speed that made Daisy''s teeth grind. "I can''t decide what''s worse. Not seeing the enemy, or seeing so many injured moving around like that." I would hope that it''s the latter. Daisy considered it, then nodded. The injured bothered her more. She felt a tiny inkling of guilt at not being able to help more. Worse, she had made them move on, which meant that some people that could have been saved wouldn''t be, all because of her order. She decided not to dwell on it. If she killed the aliens, then real help could arrive. The injured and stuck would have to wait, just a little while. "Lynus, can you contact the soldier''s... commanders?" I can. "Tell them that we need more people here. And to meet the evacuees mid-way. Also, tell them that some of them might be infected with model sevens. I expect quarantine before any other solution." She''d heard stories about entire groups being gunned down because there wasn''t time to discover who was infected and who wasn''t. "Alright," Daisy said as she shook off her stray thoughts. She had managed to kill a couple of weaker aliens, and her point total was... not looking great, but not awful at the same time. "I need to find that model seventeen. Lynus, I think it''s time for a drone." Understood. What are you looking for? "Just something that can see for me. Its vision can be relayed back to me. Something that can fly?" I see. If you''re going to invest in that direction, then a small very specialised catalogue might not be a poor idea. It will unlock a good selection for you to pick from. She frowned, but nodded. Her goal had been to upgrade her gun next. The Pillowfriend wasn''t bad, but it wasn''t great either. As a secondary option it would probably be fine, but she needed something... better as a primary. Still, needs must, and she wasn''t going to beat around the bush with this. She went over her options with Lynus, dismissing some ideas quickly before falling on a drone she wanted and a catalogue that could provide it for cheap. Catalogue unlocked: Light Data-Gathering Drones Points reduced to: 20 Drone unlock: Sleepy Eye Drone Daisy took in the scene in an instant, already aware of who was where thanks to her drone. Then she started firing. A dozen shots later, and the aliens were dead. There wasn''t any fanfare. The survivors, panting, bleeding, looking as if they weren''t at their best, turned to her like a saviour. She pointed them back the way she came. "I''m here on a hunt," she said as she walked over to one of the alien corpses. "You''re all alive. You''ll stay that way if you get out of the area." "C-can''t you help us?" one of them asked. "No," she said. Right now, she had no points to spare, and stopping to help them get to safety would mean putting others at risk. The math was simple. Getting stronger now meant better results which meant more lives saved. She didn''t like the looks she received, so she moved on, but not before stopping at one of the corpses. "How can I tell if this is a controlled alien?" Look for an incision at the back of the model three''s head, under its carapace. She tilted the alien''s head forward with a boot, then frowned. There was a cut there. A shot from her Pillowfriend opened it up, revealing a long worm, its body split apart to send tiny root-like feelers through the alien''s skull. "So, that''s the model seventeen''s worm?" Yes. It''s well planted as well. At a guess, this model three was infected some two to three hours ago. Daisy looked about, both with her own eyes and the drone above. "So, where''s the alien, then?" If you keep moving and keep killing, it will find you. "I don''t like the way you phrased that," she replied. "I want to find it, not the other way around." With your current tools, that might be difficult. The model seventeen will certainly create an ambush for you if you''re disruptive enough, however. I... am uncertain of your chances in case of a strong ambush. Daisy didn''t like it. If she was going to fight, then she wanted it to be on her terms. But then... if she knew that she was going to be ambushed, and prepared for it, then there wasn''t that much of a difference, was there? "Let''s keep moving, and keep preparing. By the time that ambush starts, we''ll be ready for it." *** Chapter Fifty-Three - Who Let the Worms Out? Chapter Fifty-Three - Who Let the Worms Out? Chapter Fifty-Three - Who Let the Worms Out? "The common nomenclature for Antithesis names follows a simple pattern, one determined by the first responders in the Ohio incursion and which was then adopted globally and refined. A model''s general type will be given a number. Sub-types are given an alphabetical marker. The common model 3 has sub-types A, B and C, which are all relatively common and also distinguishably still model 3s. This system is fantastic on paper and for reporting. It is, unfortunately, less useful when it comes to memorisation, as numbers are harder to retain for most than names. Still, the plethora of nicknames for the various antithesis models does lead to more confusion than the official nomenclature, and their use is therefore discouraged." Mrs. January, licensed educator for teenagers, Jan 2033 *** "So, what''s the sitch?" I asked as Gomorrah and I both stepped into the kitchen. Some of the kittens were reclaiming the living room, and none of them wanted to be in the kitchen in case they were bullied into dish-cleaning duty. It made for as good a place to talk as any. Plus, I was a little thirsty, so I pulled a can of something from the fridge and offered one to Gomorrah who nodded and took off her mask. "The... situation is turning a little rough on the outskirts of the city." "Really? Damn, I thought we were doing alright." "New Montreal is one of the safest cities in the world right now," she said. "We were lucky that there was an incursion before this global one. Ironically. And we did a decent job pushing the aliens back and reclaiming territory around the city. The problem is the north." "The north?" "South is the old USA. There''s plenty of force down there. Burlington might have been in a bad state, but other cities handled themselves better, and were cleared out over the last week. Territory''s being reclaimed and hives burned. The issue is that north of New Montreal is a lot of nothing, and that''s also a lot of room for hives to grow." "Right," I said. That made some sense. Even with the winters mellowing out and the northern parts of what was Canada becoming prime real estate, there still wasn''t much that way. "So we''re gonna get fucked from that way?" "I wouldn''t put it in those terms, exactly," she said. "But we can expect some resistance and some assaults from that direction, yes. And some Samurai, once freed up, might be coming here as a staging ground for the East-coast assault on the far-north." "More samurai in the city, huh?" I asked. "That''s not so bad. Could use a few more." "There are a few more that we haven''t met. But getting samurai to work together can be like--no pun intended--herding cats," Gomorrah said, and I replied with a snort. "There''s Battlepoet who''s relatively new. She''s been around the city for a while, but not in it until recently. This samurai from Calgary, Teddy, sent some mechanised war-bears to help with the push north. There''s more." "It''ll be nice to have lots of samurai around all at once," I said. Less work for me. "Yes, but they''re not all willing or able to work right away, and the problems with the infiltrations are problems right now. Especially with the antithesis acting strangely." "Acting strangely how?" I asked. "Atyacus suspects that it''s a network of model seventeens." "Because someone needs to act as vanguard, and that''s literally our job," Gomorrah said. "I''ll send your AI my location. See you in about... call it an hour and a half?" "Damn. Alright," I said. Gomorrah nodded, then left. I stood there, finishing my drink on my own while thinking to myself for a bit. "Myalis. Get the repair drone on the mech. Sucks to suck, but I might need it tomorrow." That''s understandable. Will you be doing any self-upgrades? "I''m due, aren''t I?" I asked. "Yeah. but not tonight. Let''s see what I need overnight, then tomorrow, when we head out with the army, I can do them. Or before bed? Whatever. Just... not right now." I was always reluctant to go through that kind of thing. But needs must and whatever. I could put it off for a couple more hours. First, I''d see about that shower. "Did it go well?" Lucy asked as I found her in our bedroom. "Well enough," I said. "Gom... the city, kinda needs me. Tonight and probably tomorrow too. I''ll be heading out in about an hour." Lucy nodded. She didn''t look surprised. "I''ve been catching up on the news. Did you know that they''re making a big push on Mars tonight?" "The Mars stuff is public?" I asked. "Someone had to let people know where all the samurai have gone," Lucy said. "It leaked a while ago, but now it''s more official. Anyway, The big push is right now. Things should be heating up a lot soon." "Damn," I said. "I''ve been more out of touch than I expected." "You''ve been busy... for a vacation," Lucy said. "I guess so," I said. I started to look for my things. Then Lucy shook her head and started to find my things. They were exactly where I was looking, but somehow she was pulling them out as if I''d missed them, which wasn''t possible. I was sure I''d searched. Frowning at Lucy''s magical ability to find stuff, I started to gather all of my things in one place. I''d need to bring my Trench Maker, a Laser Pointer and ammo for both. My undersuit, of course. And if we were venturing out of the city, my good armour. I had a few loose grenades in our little armoury/Lucy''s walk-in closet, those could come as well. "Are you gearing up now?" Lucy asked. "Shower first," I said. "Maybe a cold one." "Cold?" she repeated. "Someone couldn''t keep her hands to herself on the drive over, and now I''m afraid that I''m not in the right state of mind to be shooting aliens." "Oh," Lucy said. She grinned. "You know, we do have a pretty big shower, and you''re not leaving just yet, are you?" *** Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Seven Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Seven Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Seven She was not ready for it. Daisy grit her teeth and kicked out ahead of her. Her foot landed in the face of a hungry model three, stalling its advance for a moment, but also throwing her back. She hissed as she landed kidney-first on some rubble. The suit helped. It spread the damage out across her lower back. It hurt anyway. Still, that kick had earned her a few seconds. Enough to get her weapon trained on the alien. She pulled the trigger. A pair of anaemic beams shot out, frying alien flesh and cutting across its face and head. The model three, already a little dazed from her kick, growled and shook its head. One of its eyes was burned out, but the other locked onto her and she imagined that it wasn''t all that happy. "Oh, get over yourself," Daisy grunted as the alien leapt for her. Models three were not smart. It kept its mouth wide open and practically choked on her Pillowfriend as she shoved the gun into its throat. A pull of the trigger later, and the alien''s body went loose. Daisy ripped the gun back, then pushed herself to her feet. Without taking any time to wait, she ran forwards and into the first cover she found--the interior of a small boutique in the building across the street from where she''d started and where she''d been thoroughly ambushed. The counter-ambush had gone poorly. She had tracked the location where she thought the model seventeen was hiding, and had even maybe seen it from above with her Sleepy Eye drone. She approached it, and was utterly unsurprised when she was jumped by a few model threes. The tentacled model was an unwelcome addition, but she''d taken it down with a few shots. The big, tanky model that rammed through a still-standing wall and which sent her sprawling had been an even worse surprise. Fortunately, the ambush occurred on the far side of the toppled megabuilding. She had a decently clear road out of the area. It meant running while being chased, but the ruins provided cover, and she was able to land a few hits on the aliens following her, and could chart a path from above. That was, until a flying alien swept her drone away and she lost contact with it. Then she started running into model threes clearly on the hunt. She didn''t doubt that they had heard her most recent kill, or noticed the flash of her laser rifle. This bit of cover she had now was temporary, at best. Diving deeper into the boutique, Daisy shouldered a back door open, then pushed into a small office space. It was a dead end. The shop didn''t have a backdoor, or a way out except for the front. "Shit," she muttered. Then, because she wasn''t a fool, she went quiet and closed the door she''d just broken open and pulled some boxes to lean against it. Then it was into the office further in. Daisy knew herself. She''d done gymnastics and sports of one sort or another her entire life. She knew that with five minutes to rest, her heart-rate would be down to something more reasonable. A dark, unlit office in what seemed like a boutique that sold cosmetic cyberware wasn''t the greatest spot for rest, but it was better than out there with the aliens. Are you alright? "I''ll be fine," Daisy muttered. "Points?" "I''ll be fine," she said. "Let''s go kill that model seventeen. Then I''m retreating back towards the wall. I want that second eye in, and a few more easy points." Certainly. Daisy tore the door open, then closed one eye before taking a trio of shots. It took that many to hit the one other alien in the shop. "Fucking depth perception" she muttered. Foul language was unbecoming of her, she thought, but at the moment she felt as though it might be somewhat warranted. "Nevermind, I need both eyes," she relented. A few moments later, she slipped back onto the street with a pair of glasses on. She regretted the lack of oversight from a drone almost immediately. But, on the bright side, she wouldn''t have to go find the model seventeen. It had found her instead. Daisy backpedalled into cover, but it was too late, she''d been seen. The ruins and wreckage strewn across the road were covered in aliens. Mostly smaller models, with a sprinkling of larger ones. And they were all heading her way. In the middle of it all, sitting atop a mound of rubble, was an alien with a thick carapace and a tiny head. It was squat, smaller than the model threes around it, though it was a little wider. It was also looking her way. Dozens of thin lines were linked to its carapace, several of them spread out to the nearby aliens around it. The model seventeen, and it had brought a small army. Daisy didn''t waste any time, because she knew she had little. She snapped a few shots off towards the bigger aliens on the road, a trio crashing into a model five, a few into a tentacled model four. Enough to kill them, or at least injure them while they were out in the open and not up in her face. Then the aliens swarmed. Daisy continued backing up, but she didn''t rush it. The last thing she needed to do was to trip. She took careful, even shots. She was aiming quick and firing quick, but not wasting her attacks. Efficiency was paramount at the moment. But it wasn''t going to be enough. She didn''t need to be great at math to tell that there were more aliens than she could handle. Part of her was trying to think of what to say, what to ask Lynus to provide, but she wasn''t sure. Another part of her was berating herself for not thinking this far ahead. Then, out of nowhere, there was a sudden rain of bolts. Metre-long metallic bars plunged out of the sky, skewering aliens through and scattering across the entire street. Daisy paused, but only for a moment. The intervention had helped, but some still lived, and she wasn''t going to let some points go just because someone chose to save her. There was only so much merit in gratitude. *** Chapter Fifty-Four - Its fun to play with the P.M.C. Chapter Fifty-Four - It''s fun to play with the P.M.C. Chapter Fifty-Four - It''s fun to play with the P.M.C. "As a soldier you need to be aware that you are NOT a mercenary. You are a part of a greater fighting force whose goals are to defend the people and integrity of your nation. You are a fighter for justice, not mere credits." --US3 Army Propaganda, 2042 *** I hugged my bike close, the rumble of its engine sending a bassy vibration through me, which was nice. I was still feeling fresh and tingly from my shower, but the flight was giving me time to recentre myself. What was coming up was probably not going to be fun and games. I got a warning from the city''s automated driving systems as I shot past the exterior wall of the city. Myalis calmed them down for me, probably told whatever automated AA they had to chill out as well. Flying past the security of the wall wasn''t safe, but I figured it wasn''t all that dangerous either. Not as long as I was moving quick and staying far off the ground. Anything that could attack me would have to come from the air, and so close to the city it would have been gunned down a while ago. I just wanted to see things with my own eye and I figured it was worth the risk. The northern wall stretched across the city. There was a river here, entering from the west and leaving out of the east. The main part of it was buried under the megastructure of the city proper, but some parts of the lake to the west were visible from my altitude. The wall circled around the entire northern part of the city. A flat grey of concrete and metal, with evenly spaced towers along its length. It would have been impossibly imposing from the ground, but from up here, it wasn''t quite that impressive. For one thing, the wall wasn''t that straight. It didn''t just curve out to encompass the swell of the city, but it had small sections that pushed further out, or that were uneven to account for crooked terrain. The suburbs around this part of New Montreal were still lived in, even those beyond the wall. Probably because the wall wasn''t the only wall in the area. There was a second, much less impressive set of fortifications some ways out from the main wall. "How far is that second wall from the big one?" I asked. The spacing isn''t even, but the furthest section is four kilometres away. That, and the kind of armoured force that even a corp might have a hard time justifying. Tanks were expensive. I knew this because while Lucy liked watching cute videos of baby animals, the algorithm tended to push pseudo-military content my way. Stuff about tanks and cool army tech shit. It wavered, and it would only come up every so often... but I still had a soft spot in my heart for large lumbering vehicles of war. So I knew that they were expensive as fuck, not just to buy, but to maintain. Actually, I really knew that lately. And my mech wasn''t a fifty-ton tank built by humans. It was probably a lot easier to repair and maintain than any of the tanks parked out here. A soldier ran up to me and saluted. "Stray Cat. Samurai Gomorrah is waiting in the command unit. Follow me, please." No nonsense there. And not much grovelling either. Then again, it was late, and things looked like they were winding down for everyone here. I didn''t comment as I followed the soldier towards a mobile base near the centre of the lot. It was one of those typical eight-wheeled behemoths, with multiple gun emplacements bristling out of every corner and more turrets on the roof, along with a bridge that jutted out of the front a little. I found Gomorrah within, leaning over a table whose surface was a screen, along with two officers ahead of her. "Hello," she said. "You''re twenty minutes past our meeting time." "Huh... more punctual than I''d have guessed," I said. "So, what''s going on?" "Long version or short?" she asked. I could tell from the glance the officers shared that they were caught a little flatfooted at the moment. "Short?" "Short version it is. Maybe that''ll make up for you being late." She tapped the screen, which was currently displaying a map of the area I''d just flown over, though zoomed out and in daylight colours. "The convoy tomorrow will be heading along this road, northbound, until they reach here." She tapped a point some fifteen kilometres past the shitty wall. "Alright," I said. "The problem tonight is this." She pointed to a red circle a bit to the west. "There''s a hive somewhere in this area, and it''ll be the perfect spot to ambush the convoy. Assuming that the antithesis are smarter than usual, then there''s a good chance this hive will be trouble. Our mission is to burn it down." "Easy enough," I said. Maybe this wouldn''t take all night after all. *** Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Eight Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Eight Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Eight Daisy fired at the model seventeen, then paused. The alien was still alive. She frowned, then fired again, then again. It took four concentrated shots on one spot of its shell to break into the softer meat beneath and cook the alien from the inside. She did get her kill notification though, as well as a somewhat underwhelming fifty points. The area stilled, no longer lit by the flashing red strobes of her laser. The only sound, other than distant wails and the tortured crumbling of fallen buildings, was the hiss of antithesis flesh cooked by her concentrated beam fire. Some two dozen lay dead around her, killed by her own hand. Three times as many were skewered through by shiny metallic bolts. "Not bad, kiddo," someone said. Daisy spun, levelling her rifle in the direction of the voice before she thought better of it and turned the business end of the rifle away. Not so much that she couldn''t twitch it back on target, but... most antithesis wouldn''t start a conversation with her. A man was standing atop the rubble. She couldn''t see him well, not until he hopped down, bouncing from outcropping to broken cement wall, until he finally landed on the street level some ways ahead of her. He was, she decided, either a samurai, or an idiot. "Is that a bow?" she asked. The guy turned, then raised his weapon. It looked like a bow. A rather long one, with pulleys on either end and a complex sight by the middle. The design was sleek, however, and it was clear that it wasn''t some off-the-shelf product. That was a samurai''s bow. If a samurai had to stoop so low as to use one. He seemed suited to it, however. A tall man, wearing light armour. He had a sort of jump-pack on, which Daisy immediately flagged as a future purchase. His helmet was angular and sharp, but left his face exposed. It was all coloured a deep, darkish grey, with solid green lines of neon running through it. "It is a bow, yeah," he said with a smile that lit up his whole face. "That''s what I fight with, when I can." She decided that maybe he was both a samurai and an idiot. "I feel like you''re giving me a look. Are you giving me a look?" he asked. "I might be," she replied. "Great, great. Judgement from the pipsqueak." "Lasers move faster than arrows. Just putting that out there." Bow-guy backed up a step. "Hey there. I was just stopping by to help. You looked like you were in over your head." "I might have survived," Daisy said. "And if I did, I''d likely be better off than I am now." "Wow... you''re kinda hardcore, huh?" he asked. Stepping back, the samurai took a seat on a pile of stones. "Name''s Longbow. My AI says you don''t have a proper name yet. And that you''re pretty new." "Nah, I feel guilty. Oh, you probably still only have crap catalogues, right? What are you specialising in?" "I haven''t determined that, yet," she replied. "But, ideally, I want to be away from the fighting when it happens." "Oh, that''s a tough one," he said. "I mean, I get it. I''ve got some turret emplacements here and there, they work, but the point-penalties for at-range stuff is a pain to deal with. Trust me." "I... see," she replied. She hadn''t been entirely aware of that. "So using drones is useless?" "It''s not so bad if you''re controlling them directly, one at a time. AI-controlled stuff barely pays for itself, and only if you keep it running for a long time. Trust me, sometimes I wish I could clone myself so that I could be in more than one place at the same time, keeping people safe and earning my way to better gear." "You mean like cloning yourself?" Daisy asked. That seemed like a reasonable thing to want. "I guess. So... you have a drone catalogue? Here, lemme..." A box appeared by Longbow''s feet, and he grinned as he picked it up and tossed it underhand towards her. She caught it, then opened it, trusting that it wouldn''t be anything dangerous to her. It wasn''t. Within was a sleek, teardrop-shaped machine with a bow and arrow logo on its back. It was all matte grey and neon greens, Longbow''s colours, but her augs linked up to it instantly and she could feel it asking for permission to be controlled by her interface. "What is this?" she asked. "A better drone! Worth about as much as the points you''d have made. It''s got a little laser gun in it. You can have all the points it makes, and hopefully it''ll keep you safe enough." Daisy was a little moved. A little. "Thank you," she said. "No problem, little sis," he said. "Stop calling me that." "Nope," he said just as easily. Her glare didn''t do anything to stop his grin. "I''m gonna keep moving on. Unless you need anything?" Daisy shook her head. "I''ll manage," she said. A few more points, maybe a few more strays picked out, and she''d have enough to continue her progress on to the next step. "Alright! Keep safe, sis. If you need anything, just gimme a call. Your AI should have my number." He gave her a thumb''s up, then bunched his legs up under himself before leaping forwards. Daisy followed him for a moment, but he quickly flew off. She saw him firing a couple of shots from his bow from way up in the air. "Weirdo," she muttered before looking down at the drone. She wouldn''t use it so easily, of course, not until Lynus reassured her that it was safe. Still, it was a thoughtful gift. What lingered more was the idea he''s casually dropped. "Hey... cloning technology isn''t beyond the protectors, is it?" *** Side Story Poll Two! Side Story Poll Two! Hello! The last two sidestories have been a real blast to write, but I''m looking forwards to trying some new stuff! Oh, and there''s a heap more new fanfic too! (If you wrote one, lemme know, fanfic shoutouts are free!)! Anyway! I think I''m happy with where Somnus Deus Ex is right now! Let''s see if we can''t decide on who''s story to tell next? Grasshopper - (Set: 2050s, a somewhat off-kilter young teacher who wants to stay as weird as she is despite her life being upended. Tone: Some comedy, but lots of introspection and time spent in the head of a character that''s very weird) Emocythe Mordeath Noir (Set: late 2040s, a goth gets more goth-er, fashion and long discussions about appearances and what it means to be a samurai) Manic - (Set: 2057, concurrent with Cat''s timeline, the rockergirl to rock all girls! Tone: Distressed musical musings) If there are any other samurai you''d like to see more of, then let me know! Or even just... periods of time within the setting, or areas in the world that you want explored! I''m thinking of doing short arcs with each one, just showing a snippet of a samurai''s life. Chapter Fifty-Five - I Meant To Do That Chapter Fifty-Five - I Meant To Do That Chapter Fifty-Five - I Meant To Do That "After the first incursion, the people of the world turned to the scientific community for answers. Samples of the first aliens to make verifiable landfall on Earth were brought to labs across the country, footage was shared, and speculation and hypothesis began. On the same day as the Antithesis arrived, a whole new branch of scientific studies was born." --MIT Pamphlet on Xenology, 2026 ***orrah and I hitched a ride in the back of a troop transport. Not one of those big armoured ones. This was basically a four-wheel-drive truck, with a low bed filled with twin rows of seats facing each other and an optional tarp roof--currently down. It wasn''t fancy, but it was pretty fast. Or the driver was pretty fast in any case, cutting through red lights like it was nothing, the escort of light armoured vehicles probably helped. People tended to slow down when half a dozen cars with turrets on their roofs came rushing down the road, police-lights flashing and sirens wailing the entire time. When Gomorrah had outlined the plan, I had expected it to be a little simpler. Gomorrah and I would rock up to the hive, burn and-slash-or explode it up, then head back home for a quick nap. Instead, we were heading to the hive with an escort. A full platoon of force recon. I glanced at the row of men and a few women next to me. They were serious-faced, probably because their sergeant chewed up the guy who''d dared to whistle when we came in. The lot of them were dressed for war. Thick gambesons to stop bites, armoured collars around their heads and helmets that covered everything but their mouth and nose. They had a very standardised kit. Some sort of bullpup assault rifle, a few magazines strapped to their chest. A sidearm at their hip. The same pale green armour all around, with a few highlighter-green bands around their rather ugly helmets. The only good thing I could say about their gear, at least as far as looks went, was that it would make Gomorrah and I stand out. I got a ping from Gomorrah, and glanced across at her a moment before we were connected for a call. "Stop staring. You''ll make them nervous," I heard over the call. Notably, I couldn''t hear her saying it aloud. "I''m not usually this close to the soldiers while sitting in a car with nothing better to do," I said after making sure my voice wouldn''t escape my helmet. "Are these guys good?" "Seventy-Seventh recon," Gomorrah said. "They''re pretty much the best. At least as far as normal soldiers go. They''ve cleared out hives without any samurai support before. If we weren''t here, they''d still be rushing over to the hive right now." "Huh. Brave of them," I said. It took another ten minutes before the entire group came to a stop, this time for real. The soldiers stood up, the sergeant in the group making a few quick gestures accompanied by a few clicking noises. Everyone disembarked, and they were going slow, moving so that they didn''t make much noise. Some noise was unavoidable, but they were doing what they could to be quiet. "Silent bunch," I muttered. "You might learn something from observing them," Gomorrah commented. I blinked, then glanced her way. "You okay? You''re testier than usual." "Sorry," she replied instantly. "Just... a lot on my mind. I shouldn''t take it out on you." "It''s fine. If I couldn''t handle some amount of snark I wouldn''t be able to survive." I patted her on the back. "Would burning some xenos brighten up your mood?" I asked. "It would." "Alright, then let''s go set some aliens on fire." We clambered out of the back of the truck and were met by three sergeants and a guy that had lieutenant stripes. "Miss Gomorrah, Miss Stray Cat. We''re ready to begin the operation." "Any details we should know?" Gomorrah asked. "Latest satellite scan paints the hive as being within a two kilometre-wide radius of this forest. Mostly on the surface. We''d like to go in quiet, if at all possible," he said. The more aliens that died without the others realising, the easier it would be for the soldiers, I figured. "I can do quiet. At least until it''s time for the bombs to go off. I''m not sure how stealthy fire is." "It''s bright, but fire doesn''t need to be loud," Gomorrah said. "We can manage. Set your IFFs on. Let''s get to the centre of the hive, then burn it out from within." That sounded like a plan to me. A fun one, even. I shouldered my gun, then started off for the forest. "I''ll do a bit of scouting ahead," I said before going invisible. It was just in time, too, because I tripped on my next step. Fucking muddy fields. *** Chapter Fifty-Six - Country Cat, City Cat Chapter Fifty-Six - Country Cat, City Cat Chapter Fifty-Six - Country Cat, City Cat "Keep the chatter to a minimum, we don''t need to embarrass ourselves in front of the Samurai. You don''t see them goofing around, do you?" --Lieutenant Moreau, 2057 *** I reached the edge of the forest, then I realised that I hadn''t connected to the team coms. Fortunately, while I was an absent-minded moron at times, Myalis was on the ball. Yes, I did grab a connection to the intra-team communication network. It''s hard not to. The encryption is extremely basic. I suspect that they want to make it easy for other organisations to tap into their lines. Why would they... actually, that kind of made sense. You wouldn''t want a creative civilian with the right augs to pop onto your lines, but letting the local PMCs know that you were there wasn''t a bad move, not for a team that specialised in taking out aliens. It was probably easy to listen in because they wanted others to know they were around. Or something like that. Maybe they''d just cheaped out on encryption stuff. I hadn''t noticed a mesh-runner on the team, which made sense if they were mostly fighting aliens. Linking you now. I heard a faint static-y hiss that was easy to ignore. Then a few sniffles and light coughs that weren''t so easy to miss. It seemed as if the entire group was on one shared channel. The soldiers were keeping to themselves, not speaking up, and their mics seemed like they were at least designed not to pick up breathing, but still, every cleared throat was loud and clear. I opened a tab on my augs and fiddled with the volume. I didn''t want to miss an alien sneaking up on me because I was distracted by Jenkins with the sore throat. "This is Stray Cat, I''m on the edge of the forest. Uh, over." "Read you, Stray Cat," someone replied. A small text box at the edge of my vision read that as Lieutenant Moreau. "We''re catching up now. Anything to report?" I looked around me. The forest was real... forest-y; more so than that zoo Lucy and I had visited. There were bushes all over, fallen branches blocking off otherwise passable parts of the woods, and the terrain went from flat agricultural land to a bumpy mess. "Looks like shit, but no aliens, over." There were a few restrained chuckles on the line, some that turned into coughs. I had the impression that this bunch wasn''t used to joking around. They were all very serious about their work. That was probably fair. I imagined that those that didn''t take it seriously became a pension cheque for their family rather quickly. "We''re moving in. If you want to move ahead and scout, we''d appreciate it," Moreau said. "Moving ahead," I said. I shouldered my gun and slipped into the brush. My invisibility would be useful here, of course, but I quickly discovered that being unseen didn''t mean that I wouldn''t be noticed. The ground was covered in a layer of broken branches and piled on leaves. Every step came with a crack and shuffle that my boots could only do so much to muffle. Worse, there were bushes all over, and they kept brushing against my coat with a faint rustle. The wind coming in from the flatter fields around the forest helped a little. It made trees sway faintly and created a fair bit of noise to camouflage my own motions, but that would only go so far. If my augs and eyes were normal, I''d have dismissed it as a glitch, but I had good shit, and Myalis didn''t give me glitchy gear. I narrowed my eyes and scanned the forest ahead, then I moved up and down a little. I probably looked stupid, doing half-squats in a forest, but it worked. I caught that glimmer again, and now that I was looking for it, it was easier to find. It was a wire. A thin thread that cut across the space between two trees. I noticed a few more above, and some at ground level. Hell, I noticed one snapped around my lower leg. "What am I looking at, Myalis?" Without closer inspection, it''s impossible to say, however, I predict with over eighty percent certainty that these are the webs left by model sevens. Communication strands. They can also serve as tripwires. "LT, hold," I said. "Holding," the lieutenant said. I noticed the dots on the map coming to a stop and I imagined the soldiers tensing up behind me. "Found some wires. Look like spiderwebs, hard as fuck to spot." "Prep for ambush!" the lieutenant snapped in a low hiss, and I saw the dots regrouping into a rough circle in a hurry. I heard them too. So far, they''d been moving so quietly that I could only barely make out the occasional snap of a branch, now they were hustling to get into formation. I raised my gun too and waited with baited breath. Nothing showed up, though. "Huh... maybe that was a dud?" I asked. "That''s possible, if there isn''t a mo--" I stopped listening to what the lieutenant was saying as I jumped aside. Something large and spikey crashed through the branches above and then came rushing down. I think it would have missed me if I stayed still, but I jumped aside anyway. The large ball of spikes thumped into the ground, then burst apart, scattering dozens of long spines across the forest. I covered my head and felt a few pinpricks stabbing into my suit and into the less armoured joints between. "Fuck," I said as I looked up. It was an artillery ball, flung by a model fifteen with surprising accuracy. "I think we''ve been spotted," I said unnecessarily. "Good," Gomorrah said. I heard a whoosh, and when I looked back to where the soldiers were, I could finally see the orange glow of a light in their midst. The pilot light on Gomorrah''s flamethrower. "I''m not one for all of this stealth business," she said. *** Miss Grasshopper - Chapter One Miss Grasshopper - Chapter One Miss Grasshopper - Chapter One Suzette (Sue to everyone but her mom) stepped into the back of the room, then moved to the side. There were thirty-seven students in the classroom, but they didn''t spare her too much attention. All of them, or most of them at least, were focused on the tablets and integrated desk-computers they had. The Quincy Special Education Centre was perhaps one of the most prestigious schools in all of Boston, which was saying something. The mega city had a few thousand schools, and some of the private institutions were quite impressive. There was a reason that this school, Quincy SEC (or Q-SEC), was the best, and it could mostly be traced back to one person. Suzette dreamed of being a teacher ever since... well, it had been a long time. It was something she aspired to from a young age, in any case, and now she was well on her way to becoming just that. A few more months of internship, and she''d be teaching her own classes. Unfortunately, no matter how much she wanted to be a teacher, she knew she''d never be as good as Melanie. The door to the front of the room opened, and the students perked up. Tablets were laid down, screens were returned to their home pages. It was a small miracle that someone could pry their attention away from their screens without even being in the room yet. Then Melanie waltzes in. It wasn''t an exaggeration, the young woman spun into the room with a laugh on her lips and a smile in her eyes. Her dress, this ancient summer dress, far too modest to fit in anywhere, fluttered out around her. It was covered in a pattern of cartoonish bugs and splashes of colour. "Hello everyone!" Melanie said. The children chorused a cacophony of hellos right back. Most of them settled on "Hello Miss Fizz-Snap!" Suzette hugged her own tablet closer to her chest. There was something... magical about Melanie. She didn''t belong in such a dirty, messed up world, and yet here she was. Melanie tapped the board at the front of the room, and like magic, it came on and text scrawled across it in a rainbow hue. "Fraction!" she declared. "They''re not just slices of a pie, but windows into a new world! A world of bits and bobs, broken up to share and admire." These were all special needs kids, Suzette knew. They had comportment issues, or problems keeping focused. She had some classes with them, on occasion, and it was a nightmare to get even half to pay attention. Melanie had each and every one captivated from day one. "Tommy, dear," she said as she tugged a tissue from a sleeve and placed it on the desk of a student near the front. "In our class, we embark on adventures with our minds and hearts, not in our noses." Her wink was a shared secret, and somehow it turned a reprimand into a joke that even Tommy was in on. Suzette laughed with the students, then let out a wistful sigh as Melanie turned her attention to the board. It flicked to a new screen, with colourful explanations of today''s maths lesson, not that Melanie seemed to pay the board any mind. It was an aid, a visual to help the kids that needed to see to understand. Instead, Melanie launched into a story, a silly tale that hid lessons anyway. She asked questions, always to someone who knew the answer, or she''d coax it out of them. In those brief moments, it felt... almost naughty. Melanie would single a kid out, and give them her entire, undivided attention, she''d listen to every word, nod and smile and listen, then she''d guide them to the right answer with a gentle nudge or two. Sue would give a lot to be the centre of that attention. Class was going on as it usually did when Sue received a ping on her augs. Just a little notification in the corner of her vision, but one which was red and flashing. She noticed the way Melanie stiffened for a moment as well. There were only a few things that could poke through her ad-block that way. She made sure she had a good one, after all, and was very careful about permissions. A red flashing warning, one that Melanie received as well... She swallowed and moved to the back of the room, making sure that the door was closed, then she touched her thumb to the electronic handle and swiped right. The safe tucked into the wall behind the desk, with its bio-lock, had real guns. Sue gulped as Melanie casually picked up a folding rifle and placed it on the desk. Then she grabbed a small handgun, still in a sheath, and gave it to Sue. "Just in case." "Right," Sue said. The flashing red alert returned, and she froze up for a moment before Melanie touched her shoulder. "It''ll be okay," Melanie said. She opened the warning, and almost flinched. WALL BREACHED Escort All Students and Staff to Primary Shelter. Remain Calm and Orderly. Melanie clapped her hands together, a big smile returning as if this was nothing at all. "Hey, my little bunnies! Pick up your tablets please. We''re going on a bit of an adventure! Hup hup and hop into a line, just like we practised. That''s right, in alphabetical order. Sue, could you be a dear and unlock the door for us?" She didn''t explain what was going on, but some of the kids seemed to have caught on to the undercurrent of stress anyway. Mostly from Sue, probably. She was feeling twitchier than ever as she rushed to the door and unlocked it. Melanie stepped up to the very front, rifle casually in her arms as if it belonged there as she lead the class out of the room in single-file. Soon enough, Sue followed after, keeping just behind the last student. There were other classes in the corridors. None as organised as Melanie''s... at least, until she got to them. Melanie helped one student to her feet, then gave her a hug and patted her back until she stopped crying. Then she praised another class for being so orderly and neat, her voice carrying through the corridor to other less-neat group who seemed to suddenly snap into their lines. Everything was going well until they reached the bunker. It was a building smack in the middle of the courtyard at the back of the school. A cement lump that opened up to a ramp leading downwards. The entrance had a set of scanners and a door that quickly opened and closed after checking on each student and staff member. Melanie stepped to the side, allowing her group in, then helping others, until, finally, it was only Sue and a few of the staff left. "Are we sure that''s everyone?" Melanie asked, her worry finally showing now that the students were safe. "Everyone that checked in this morning. Not a single student unaccounted for," the gym teacher said. He nodded, then stepped in himself. Sue went next. The door stayed shut. She received another message from the school over their aug-network. Suzette Smith, Intern, Non-Admissable. *** Chapter Fifty-Seven - Hit Everything, Everywhere, All At Once Chapter Fifty-Seven - Hit Everything, Everywhere, All At Once Chapter Fifty-Seven - Hit Everything, Everywhere, All At Once "Mortar fire isn''t great against heavily wooded areas. Not for the first round. Once the forest is burned down, it''s a perfectly viable tool." --Sergeant O''Mally, 1978 *** The moment after the artillery strike landed, the LT. called for his guys to spread out, watch for enemies, and open fire on anything shooting our way. "Mortar teams need coordinates for the enemy artillery," Moreau said over the line. He was surprisingly calm, all things considered. "We have mortar teams?" I asked. "Two of the trucks have roof-mounted mortars," Gomorrah explained. "If you spot something, let us know." "Got it," I said as I climbed back to my feet. The forest was lighting up as the soldiers behind me gave up on going full infra-red and switched on helmet-mounted lights and little flashlights clipped onto their rifles. The light, motion, and sudden sound, didn''t go unnoticed. I started to see motion through the forest in the opposite direction. It wasn''t time for me to be laying my ass down on the ground and waiting, so I rose up, brought my rifle to bear, and started to move sideways. I trusted that the soldiers behind us were pretty decent, but I didn''t want to be in the crossfire anyway. My armour was good, but I wasn''t sure if it was ''point blank armour-piercing rifle round'' good. Hell, even if it was, that shit probably hurt. I was still moving to the side when I noticed some aliens skulking through the underbrush. Small forms, their bodies a deep brown, with a darker green carapace that was moulted and patterned not too differently from some of the pine trees and spikier bushes around. If they had been standing stock still, I might have missed them, but their movement gave them away. I squinted, then raised my gun and took a few quick shots. Silenced rounds, delivered from an invisible person, the slight flash hidden by the trees. The aliens had no idea what hit them. A few missed shots kicked up dirt, or dug into some of the trees, but most of them... some of them, found their way into alien flesh and they went down. "Just model threes here so far," I said. "Likely the early warning models they have on the periphery of the hive," Gomorrah said. "We can expect a lot more resistance if we move inwards." "Yeah, sounds about right. I''m seeing a few threads hanging around too," I said. They were damned hard to notice, with how thin and semi-transparent they were. It was only when the light from the soldiers caught them just right that I spotted the lines. "Noted. I think we only have HE shells with us, nothing penetrative. We don''t have timed fuses." I had no idea what that was, but whatever. "Just shoot each target a few more times. Something will go through eventually." "I don''t know if they brought enough ammo for that," Gomorrah said. "But it should let us clear out this side, at least. We might have to take care of the rest ourselves." That sucked, but whatever. I hadn''t expected mortar support to begin with. Another whistling rain of shells came down, and this time a pair of them made it through the canopy and thumped into the ground. It shook underfoot as the rounds exploded, sending up dirt and debris and flipping half of a carcass into the air with a spray of plant blood. "One down," I said. "Mortar team will continue to soften up the further targets. We''re moving in," the lieutenant said. The soldiers started to move forwards behind me, and I decided to drop my invisibility and jog up to where they were waiting. I saw a few heads turn to track me with their lights before I found Gomorrah and the lieutenant in the centre of the formation. "The hive''s not too far off," Gomorrah said. "Once we''re on the edge, we''ll move in while the soldiers keep our perimetre safe and keep the lane of retreat open." "So we just dip in, plant a big old bomb, then run the hell away?" I asked. "I''d couch it in more professional terms, but essentially yes," Gomorrah said. "Alright! That''s my kind of fun," I said. "Myalis, can I have a small box with a replenishing supply of resonators? Just like, six or so?" Certainly. You''re going to be handing them out? "Like hot cakes," I said. Once the box appeared, I tucked away a pair of grenades and watched two more appear in the case. There was a small dip in my points counter, but nothing bad. "LT. hand these out to the boys. They''re shit at killing aliens, but they last a while and make for good... long-ish term deterrents." "Thank you," he said. He sounded a little emotional about it. "Have some of your guys plant them behind us, it''ll keep a route open from here to our extract. I''ve got this feeling that we''ll be running a lot in the next few minutes." "Yes ma''am," he replied. I might have made a small mistake there, because the soldiers, as silent and professional as they were, were soon passing resonators off to each other. A few were activated and flung way out into the woods. Well, whatever. It meant more dead aliens and more points for me, so I wasn''t going to complain too much about it. *** Chapter Fifty-Eight - Burn Silent Into That Good Night Chapter Fifty-Eight - Burn Silent Into That Good Night Chapter Fifty-Eight - Burn Silent Into That Good Night "There''s no such thing as an unprepared samurai. Only a samurai who isn''t prepared at the moment... What do you mean, that''s an oxymoron?" --Longbow, to a new samurai, 2056 *** Walking towards mortar fire was... probably not the wisest thing I''d ever done, but so far the army had been pretty professional, and I trusted them to hit more or less where we told them to, instead of bringing down shells right onto my pretty head. Gomorrah and I were at the front of the formation, which had stretched out to the sides with a pair of ''wings.'' Some soldiers were running backwards towards the trucks and the edge of the forest. They were the ones laying quick traps with resonators behind us. Setting up a route that we could use to extract from when the time came to run the hell away. I raised my Laser-pointer up and tapped a model four centre-mass with a trio of shots, which sent it flopping down, very much dead. Gomorrah and I were in the middle of the formation and a bit ahead of all the soldiers. They were moving at a very slow, steady pace. Gom and I were moving at a less steady, less slow pace. "They make walking in the woods look so easy," Gomorrah muttered. I chuckled. "I know, right? Fucking roots, man." "Burn the whole place down. See how these bushes and stuff handle being turned to ash. That''ll be easier to cross." "Hehe," I said. It wasn''t my most convincing chuckle. "Just... hold off on that until we''re through, yeah?" "We''ll see," Gomorrah said. She stomped ahead, and I jogged to catch up. I popped a few more rounds into some aliens that my augs highlighted for me. The light from the soldiers behind and from the pilot light on the end of Gomorrah''s flame thrower was useful, but it wasn''t exactly lighting up the whole world out here. Some aliens were sneaky enough that I only caught sight of them as they moved. "You have any ideas for how to get rid of the hive?" I asked. "I figured you''d want to bomb it," Gomorrah said. "We don''t want to alert all of the other local hives to anything going on here, so I''m afraid we''ll have to be a bit more subtle with the bombing." "Right," I agreed. Bombs could be subtle. Sure. We crossed from the part of the forest that still had some vegetation into an area that was completely cleared of plantlife. Even the trees looked like they had been stripped of their bark, and a number of them had their branches pruned, with what looked suspiciously like little bite marks around the points where those branches met the trunks. "Stop gawking," Gomorrah said over a private channel. "This is what normal hives look like when they don''t have an environment to hide in. Check the entrances." That made sense, I supposed. The dirt was clearly pulled from all around, and then piled up over the hill. There were small entrances and holes all over. Some were small enough that my closed fist would barely fit. Others I could crawl into without difficulty. Most had roots around their entrance, acting as supports of sorts. There was some actual engineering going on here. Weird, fucky alien engineering, but engineering all the same. And I was looking forward to blowing it up. "Down!" Gomorrah shouted. I leapt down, crouching on one knee almost too slowly to avoid something blurring past over my left shoulder. Gomorrah had dove aside, missing the blur altogether. Some poor fuck behind us wasn''t so lucky. I heard him screaming a moment before some spines rained down around me. An antithesis artillery ball? I noticed dirt raining down from one of the holes. The damned hive could shoot outwards? "Is that artillery in the hive?" I asked. It''s likely that there''s a model fifteen within, with enough space to manoeuvre. Notice the small wires leading out of the hive. A model seventeen is likely acting as a spotter for it. I didn''t know that was possible at all. Still, we had our own support like that. I sent the coordinates to the mortar team, then raised my gun and took some shots into and around the hole that they''d fired from. Aliens started to pour out of the ground around us. Mostly smaller models that popped out of hidden tunnels and scurried our way. Some of them weren''t the kinds of models I was used to seeing. Headless, monkey-like model tens scampered and tossed themselves our way. Some... tentacled things that I didn''t recognize got some rounds punched through them as well. I saw and heard a few resonators fly overhead while the night was lit up by muzzle flashes and swaying flashlights. "Myalis!" I shouted as I reloaded in a hurry. "I need something that produces some light! And I need... fuck it, something that''ll shake the earth a little. Let''s collapse their little anthill right on their ugly heads." "I like that idea!" Gomorrah shouted next to me before she opened up with her flamer and drew a line of fire across the clearing. "If you''re gonna do that, please do so in a hurry." "Hey, it wouldn''t be so quick if I knew what we were getting into," I snapped back. This whole thing was a disorganised mess. Still... kinda fun. *** Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Two Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Two Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Two Suzette wanted to cry. She could feel the tears coming, stinging her behind her eyes. It wasn''t a nice sensation, but... she felt like it was understandable, at the moment. The nearest shelter to the school was... several blocks away, and it was a public shelter. The sort of place no one wanted to be caught in. There might have been a few others dotted across the city, but those would be private, or owned by the corporation whose building they were hidden within. She wouldn''t have any more luck with those. A hand pressed against her shoulder, and she almost jumped in fright. "Give me a minute," Melanie said. "What?" Suzette asked. Then Melanie turned to some of the other teachers. They were very pointedly not looking at Sue. "Do you have extra magazines? There should be three per gun, right?" "Are you serious?" the English teacher--his name escaped Suzette at the moment--asked. "Very," Melanie said. "And I wouldn''t mind an extra handgun either. Or a rifle. We split what we had already." The teachers seemed reluctant, but they weren''t bad people. Melanie was given one of their rifles, along with a few extra magazines, then an extra handgun and more magazines for that as well. They slipped past Suzette, not meeting her eyes, not looking her way, but still... they knew she was there, otherwise they wouldn''t be going around her so much. Sue took in a deep breath from her nose, and if it was a little sniffly, then that was on her. "Hmm, where can we sit?" Melanie asked as she looked around. Sue turned her way. She had a hand out towards Sue, with a rifle grabbed by its middle. Her purse, which was more of a satchel filled with toys and teaching supplies and a few knick-knacks, was hanging by her hip, filled to the brim with spare ammunition now. "What are you doing?" Sue asked. "Keeping a student safe," Melanie said. She gave Sue a soft smile. "You''re an intern, which means you''re here to learn, which means that I''m your teacher, no? A good teacher doesn''t abandon a student, even if they''re a little troublesome." "No," Sue said. "You can''t stay out here, it''s--" "It''s fine," Melanie said. "They''ll probably not make it this far, and we don''t need to stand out where it''ll be easy for them to get to us if they do make it here." She pointed to the main school building, up at the upper floors. "Oh, Miss Fizz, you... you don''t have to. You''re allowed to be in the shelter." "I did some middle-school teaching for a bit," Melanie said. "But, to be honest, I prefer working with the younger students. They''re so much more receptive. Then again... I guess that''s not fair of me. Middle-schoolers are just discovering themselves. They''re learning who they really are in a way that the younger kids aren''t. I think that might be when they most need the help and guidance that a good teacher and friend can give them." "I suppose," Sue agreed. The lounge was a decently large room, with a few sofas and a long row of windows overlooking the playground. Melanie almost immediately started moving things around, grabbing a sofa by the edge and dragging it towards the doorway. "Let me help," Sue said before she jumped to do just that. "Thank you," Melanie replied. Soon enough, they had the door barricaded, though Sue suspected that if something really wanted in, they could burst through the thin walls. There was a long window on the inside, looking into the corridor just behind. "Alright, let''s settle down, then, huh?" Melanie asked as she pulled up a chair and brought it closer to the window. "Should we open the windows?" Sue asked. "Oh, the latches are decorative. They don''t actually open," Melanie replied. "We''ll have to shoot through them, I''m afraid." That was... typical. Sue grabbed a chair, and settled in next to Melanie. Her heart was still beating hard, though she couldn''t tell if it was the climb or the stress or something else. She sat with a rifle across her lap, feeling tired, wired, and like she wanted to be elsewhere. "I hope the kids are alright," Melanie muttered. Her attention was obviously on the playground below. There were a few vents poking out of the ground next to some of the jungle gyms. Those lead down into the shelter, feeding air to the students. "I hope so too," Sue said. "You, ah, really care, don''t you?" "I do." "How?" Melanie looked at Sue and smiled. It made Sue''s heart ache. Her gaze softened and when she spoke, her voice was gentle, yet firm. "How? Because caring isn''t just a choice, Sue, it''s a commitment. Every day, in little ways, we choose to either care or not. And that choice, it defines us more than anything else. When we see someone in need, when we encounter fear or uncertainty, we have a choice--to turn away or to stand firm and offer a helping hand. I choose to care, to stand, because that''s who I am, and who I believe we all can be." "But, I''m afraid," Sue admitted. Melanie placed a reassuring hand on Suzette''s shoulder. "We''re here, in this moment, facing something terrifying, but we''re not alone. We have each other, and as long as we stand together, there''s always hope." Sue found herself smiling back, at least, until she saw the first dark form slinking along through the playground, on the prowl for something innocent to defile and eat. The Antithesis were here, and Suzette wasn''t sure how Melanie''s hope would stand up to their reality. *** 10,000 Followers! 10,000 Followers! Heya Samurai, I know, I know, it''s not a chapter, or really important news, but still, I wanted to make a thank-you post, and it''s 2:27AM, and I''m a little emotional, so you''re going to have to endure my enthusiasm for a moment! Stray Cat Strut has hit 10,000 followers! That''s... that''s kind of insane! I''m really happy that Stray Cat Strut was one of the exceptions, and that so many people have come to enjoy it this much! I still have a lot of ideas to explore, and stories to tell within this world, so don''t worry! I''ll only end when my heart finally give out <> Thank you, sincerely, for being here and for reading and commenting and just being part of this! Keep warm; stay cool, RavensDagge Chapter Fifty-Nine - Hot Hives in Your Area! Chapter Fifty-Nine - Hot Hives in Your Area! Chapter Fifty-Nine - Hot Hives in Your Area! "We don''t like the term trailer trash, we find it all sorts of offensive to our long heritage and ancestral culture. My great great grandfather bought that trailer with his own money. If you need to call us something, then perhaps ''Trailer-privileged Community,'' would be more respectable." --Jim "All Teeth" Vincerella, 2038 *** "Myalis, ''nade. Something high explosive," I said as I brought my left arm back. Something small and weighty fell into my hand, and my thumb naturally touched upon a trigger. It started to beep a moment before I flung my arm forwards. The grenade sailed through the air, then smacked on the bottom lip of one of the holes in the hive. It bounced, then rolled in, disappearing from sight into the darkness within. I brought my arm back around and continued to shoot. Gomorrah was laying down a wall of fire that didn''t seem to want to extinguish, even with nothing to burn. It looked like her gun had shifted from firing... well, fire, to launching large, swelling masses of some goopy material that formed a large barricade ahead of us. That barricade was, of course, on fire, and any alien that tried to climb over it soon found themselves glued onto a surface that was literally burning. They''d tug and thrash and sink in deeper into the goop even as they burned alive. It was a sight to see. I took a few of the smaller ones out of their misery, but I had bigger, meaner targets to focus on just behind the line of fire. Then the grenade in the hill went off. Myalis hadn''t cheaped out on the ''high'' part of the explosive. The hill exploded outwards, man-sized chunks of dirt and roots flying away from the top while a rush of looser dirt was flung upwards and out. I ducked my head as small pebbles and clods came raining down all around me. Some of them landed on Gomorrah''s fire, as well as a few larger stones that could serve as stepping stones, at least until she started hosing those down too. "Did that do it?" I asked as I stood back up. The tactical com from the soldiers registered a few scuffs. One guy was swearing up a storm as he''d been smacked in the face by a jagged piece of rock. I felt a little bad for the guy, but that was the price for playing with high explosives. "No notification," Gomorrah pointed out. "The hive''s still alive." "I can toss in a few more," I suggested. I had earned plenty more points from that stunt than the cost of a single grenade, after all. The soldiers were waiting for us still, and we all started back through the woods as a big unit. There was no stealth this time. We had lights out, and resonators screeching along our entire path. "We''re far enough," Gomorrah said after a long silence. I didn''t have time to ask anything when she activated her bomb. I felt the rush of warmth pressing against my back, as if I was standing next to a bum fire. The forest lit up in reds and oranges, and when I looked back and squinted, I saw that the sky was painted in the same colours. "Wow. That was a big one?" "Eh, medium sized," she said. "It''ll boil the water table a little, but that''s probably for the best. Most antithesis don''t survive boiling like that. We''re going to need to comb through the unburnt parts of the forest for remnants." Lieutenant Moreau shielded his eyes while looking around. "We''ll have a team come in and do just that," he said. "That''s one of our specialities." "Get to it, then. I don''t see much fun in rooting around in the dirt for a few last aliens," I said. It was important work, but it sounded tedious as hell. "Do you... want us to start right now, ma''am?" the lieutenant asked. I blinked, then checked my wording there. "No, I meant... just make sure it''s done. I''m sure your guys want some time off as much as I do. Not that tonight was very hard. This was pretty easy, actually." "A couple of thousand points, but for relatively low-risk," Gomorrah said. "I''m starting to understand and appreciate those samurai who specialise specifically in hive removal like this. It might be tedious, but it''s not nearly as dangerous as being on the front line of a large surge, or tripping over first responders during an active incursion." "Yeah," I said. It probably took a special kind of nut job to want to be out there when an incursion was just starting up. On the edges it probably wasn''t so bad, but I was pretty sure the centre of a new incursion had all sorts of nasties. Then again, that''s why people like Deus Ex showed up. "Hey, any news from Mars?" I asked Gomorrah in a private channel. "I haven''t looked into it in a few hours, but they were launching a big offensive. If it goes well, I think they''ll be on their way back." "Huh," I said. That might be... big, actually. "So we''ll be able to chill while the big boys do all the hard work?" "I hope so," Gomorrah said. "But that might be a while off. Travel from Earth to Mars isn''t instantaneous, you know?" "Right, right," I said. "So... think I can bum a ride back home? We do live in the same building and all." Gomorrah just sighed. ***Fo?ll0w current novE?ls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m) Chapter Sixty - How To Skin A Cat Chapter Sixty - How To Skin A Cat Chapter Sixty - How To Skin A Cat "Hair-loss is such a 2010s problem. Beautiful, full, healthy hair! Hair so strong you can strangle a man with it. Hair in such a wide array of colours and styles that you''ll want to replace it every week, just so that you can try something new and dazzle your friends with how incredibly unique you are! --Because We''re Worth It campaign, 2035 *** As much as I would have loved to sleep in as much as I wanted, I had shit to do, and time was pressing ever onwards. Myalis woke me up with increasingly hard nudges at around five in the morning. I stumbled out of bed and to the shower. Fortunately, the water did help to wake me up some, which... was more than necessary. With only a few hours of sleep in me, I wouldn''t be very useful. Some was better than none, but it didn''t feel like it just then. "Alright," I said as I stepped out and smacked my cheeks before the mirror. I let out a sigh, then looked at my reflection. I had some bags under my eyes. Nothing too alarming, but it wasn''t pretty. My hair was matted down, and I could only barely make out the once-vibrant blue of one of my bangs. Still hadn''t gotten around to fixing that. Are you well? "I''m fine," I said. "What''s my point-total looking like?" Current Points: 34,771 Not bad. I''d spent a few here and there, not just on consumables, but on crap that I probably didn''t need, but last night... this morning''s run, had buffed things back up a little. "I''ve been putting a few things off," I said. Are you preparing yourself mentally for some upgrades? "You don''t need to spell it out like that," I said. "But, yeah, pretty much. I think I''m starting to get to the point where I should be a lot better than I am. I don''t wanna go full-borg though." Your current augmentations include one self-healing system in your chest, a pair of prosthetic ears, a cybernetic eye, and your arm. You have spent relatively little on improving your physicality. At the same time, you have access to two relevant blueprints. One for the Feline Cat Reflex Augmentation suite, and one for some prosthetic ear implants. "The blueprints are mostly if I want to make that shit myself, no?" I asked. Yes, and if you had the time and surgical systems to install them, then that would be the less expensive option, though obviously time isn''t something you have in great supply at the moment. I knew there were some samurai that did just that. "Okay, what about being tougher?" I asked. Would you be partial to skin replacement? "That sounds horrific," I said. It''s less invasive than you''d think, all things considered. I can have the skin replacement take a similar approach. A suite of nanomachines that would slowly replace all of your skin with fresh, new skin laced with materials to improve it. Your skin would flake off, as it does already, though at an accelerated rate. The replacement skin will be indistinguishable to human sight, but it will be less conductive, slightly thicker, and capable of resisting minor cuts and abrasions. It would also have a series of capillaries beneath the surface to better allow regenerative materials to travel through your skin. You would, essentially, heal faster and bleed less. "Would it be bullet-proof?" No, but the average Earth dog would find you exceptionally hard to bite through. Sensation-wise, you''ll retain your sense of touch, though it may be improved slightly. You will be more touch-sensitive. Your skin would also be much smoother to the touch, and should you manage to live that long, will wrinkle far less with age. "Okay, okay," I said. "Any downsides?" You''ll need new hair. "Uh." Yes, all over. Though, only where you wish new hair to be. Your current hair will fall off, though it won''t be immediate. You''ll have a day or two before it starts to come off. You might want to consider shaving your head before that happens, then picking a suitable replacement. Right, that wasn''t that bad. There were lots of fake hair replacement things out there. Neon coloured hair was pretty common, as was RGB hair, and there were wilder things out there. Self-styling hair, and hair that could move itself and shit. "Yeah, I''d be alright with that. How much is this skin stuff?" I asked. Five hundred and fifty points. This one will require that you drink a rather large bottle of a liquid substance. You will find that it has no taste. "It tastes like water?" No. The actual taste is horrific. Your sense of taste will be deactivated almost as soon as you first smell it. It''ll return to normal within the hour. "Oh, great," I said. "Well, let me get started with one of those super-coffees of yours. I think I need one if I''m going to be doing all of this shit." Of course! I''ll make it extra-strong. Maybe the taste will linger a little. *** Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Three Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Three Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Three Sue held back a scream as the barricade at their door buckled. The desk they''d shoved up against it squealed against the floor as it was pushed back. Attracting the alien''s attention had been... perhaps not the best idea she''d ever had. At the moment, Melanie was crouching behind another desk, using a metal ruler''s tip to pry a bullet out of the barrel of her rifle. "Can you take care of that one?" she asked nicely. "Got it," Sue said. She gingerly crossed the room, her attention split between the doorway and the window overlooking the playground. They hadn''t seen any flying aliens nearby, but she was acutely aware that they existed and that they might come to get them soon enough. The door buckled again, and a long, toothy maw pried itself in between the crack of the doorway and sniffed audibly. Sue levelled her handgun at the alien''s face, firmed up her grip, set her feet quickly, then aimed between the two little posts at the side of the gun until the glowing nub on the end of the barrel and the two posts were all even with the alien''s face. She pulled the trigger, and there was a loud bang, then another, and another. It took three carefully placed shots for the alien to finally pull back, its face punched through in two spots and a third hole pierced through the door just a few centimetres off. "It''s not dead," she said. "These guns fire point-two-five ACP," Melanie said. "They have as much kinetic power as a well-thrown bouncy ball." Sue nodded, then looked at the little gun in her hand. That had been three rounds, which meant that there were nine left before she had to reload. She resisted the temptation to do that right away, she didn''t have many magazines, and she didn''t want to end up with a pocket-full of half-empty ones. And this was definitely a situation that called for avoiding half-empty things. "I think it''s bleeding a little," Sue said as she leaned to the side and tried to see out of the crack. There was a glimpse of the alien pulling away and shaking its dog-like head, and some splatters of greenish-black blood. "I don''t know if the aliens can bleed out," Melanie replied. "I mean... I suppose they ought to, if they need blood and you exsanguinate them." "Don''t we have a module on alien biology?" Sue asked. "I think later in the year?" It was strange just how... normal the discussion was. Death was lingering on the other side of the door, but here they were talking about which classes were coming up on their schedule. "It''s near the end of the year, for the eight-graders. But I never really spent much time teaching biology," Melanie said. "I''ve done some substitution work, and I keep up with the material, but... well, maybe I''m a bit of a failure in that respect. It''s hard for me to remember everything if I''m not actively preparing to teach it." "No, I think that''s normal," Sue replied. "It would be hard to remember the entire curriculum. I''m sure we could pull it up." "Sure," Melanie replied. Sue almost jumped out of her own skin as the alien returned, bashing its head into the crack with more force before pulling back. The strike had shoved the desk back a centimetre or so. She leaned back, then pushed against it with a foot, but it was too heavy to move without putting her back into it, and that would mean being far closer to the door than she wanted. It took a bit, but soon enough the two of them were sneaking their way out of the classroom. Sue gingerly stepped over the corpse by the doorway. A model two, if she wasn''t mistaken. She remembered calling them ''Bad Doggies'' in her notes, which was a fairly common name for this kind. She never expected, or wanted, to be this close to one, living or dead. The school was strangely quiet. She''d never heard the school without the constant chatter and squeaking of a dozen shoes, a hundred children talking. Even during the weekend, or after the school was closed, it never quite went away. The hallways had the same sort of silence, an emptiness that felt almost tangible. Sue almost jumped when Melanie''s hand touched her own. The older woman was holding her rifle in her off-hand so that she could hold onto Sue. Sue was reassured, for a moment, before she realized that Melanie''s hand was trembling. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper. "Do you know why I became a teacher?" Melanie asked. Sue shook her head. They stopped at a corner. Sue was holding the pistol, and she peeked around. Nothing. Sue kept glancing at the other teacher, wondering where this was going. After a minute, Melanie spoke. "My mother was a teacher. Not at this school. She was a primary school teacher at a state-funded school. One of the bad ones. She was... good. Great, even. There''s a difference, you know, between a teacher that''s good at teaching, and a teacher who is a great teacher." "I... don''t understand," Sue admitted. "Being good means knowing how to teach. Knowing the material, the best practices, how to reach out to students and help them understand and be prepared," Melanie said. "Being great means more than that. It means caring for your students. My mother was great." "Was," Sue repeated. "She was shot by one of her students. He was troubled, had a hard time with a lot of things, but my mom kept trying to reach out to him. I miss her." "Oh," Sue said. They reached the vice-principal''s office, and Melanie tried the door. It clicked open. "Easy-peasy," she said with a smile that she shared with Sue. She was just opening the door with a crackle that sounded a lot like broken glass being shifted when Sue noticed that there was something wrong. Her brain barely registered what it was before Melanie gasped. Her hand was wrenched away from Sue''s, her rifle went off, tracing bullets along the wall and ceiling and making enough noise that Sue found herself screaming even as she flinched away. When she opened her eyes, she discovered blood and hungry alien eyes. *** Chapter Sixty-One - With Great Cats Comes Great Responsibility Chapter Sixty-One - With Great Cats Comes Great Responsibility Chapter Sixty-One - With Great Cats Comes Great Responsibility "Not all samurai are capable of command. It''s a common myth, and something seen in plenty of media, but whatever selection process exists for samurai, it doesn''t select them based on their ability to lead. Still, every so often one of them will step up and do a good enough job of it that it''s worth noting." --"On Samurai and the Role of Leader" Extract, the Family Internal Press, 2049 *** I exited the bathroom and discovered that Lucy wasn''t alone in bed. She had company. Company in the form of a large robotic cat, the one I''d bought for her in Burlington. It was laying like a sphynx on the bed, head turned towards the doorway and eyes slowly scanning the room. "Isn''t that thing cold?" I asked, keeping my voice low so that I wouldn''t wake Lucy up. It''s capable of regulating its temperature for stealth purposes. At the moment, the unit is overheating itself to give off a comforting amount of warmth. It''s part of its bodyguarding routines. That explained why Lucy had one leg over the cat''s back and her face pressed into its flank. I walked over to the bed, tugged the blankets free a little, then covered Lucy properly. She didn''t even stop her quiet snoring as I tucked her in and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "Keep her warm," I advised the cat mech, and it nodded its big head. I had to get ready, which meant putting on my undersuit, something which immediately proved somewhat difficult. The two processes I''d just started left me feeling... tingly. It wasn''t super noticeable if I wasn''t looking for it, but my skin was itchy in a few random spots, as if I had the start of an allergic reaction. That, and my nerves were already being rewired, but it wasn''t entirely even. I closed a hand, only to feel like some fingers responded slightly faster than others. It was off but just in a small way. I wasn''t even sure if I wasn''t just imagining it. The nervous system upgrade will settle soon enough. Given six or so hours, the upgrade will have spread across your entire nervous system. The remaining time will be spent on the installation of reinforcements and adjustments. Until then, you might feel slightly uncalibrated in your actions. "Good to know," I muttered as I scratched my side. Yeah, there was definitely an itch. I slipped the skinsuit on anyway, pulling it on tight and bouncing on the spot to make sure the leg portion was tugged all the way up. Next was my power armour. That was far easier to get on, all I had to do was step into it, and the armour folded itself around me and locked into place. I tilted my head left and right, making sure my neck was loose, then shifted the arms a little before I twisted my waist around back and forth. Everything felt alright. If anything, that slight delay in motion with the suit might normalise any of the weirdness from the nerve upgrades. "Okay," I muttered. "I think I''m ready." I slipped out of the room, popped into my armoury, picked up my Laser Pointer, Trenchmaker, and a handful of grenades, then made my way to the elevator. But not before pausing to scratch Catkiller on the head and to nod to Chonkers, the spy drone-cat who was loafing in the middle of the corridor, right where someone might trip over it. With a mental touch, I opened the canopy of the mech, then pushed myself up to standing. It was less about being able to see things for myself than it was for morale. I wasn''t a genius when it came to that kind of thing, but I figured... well, if I was some poor fuck in army greens at the moment, seeing a massive cat-shaped warmech with a samurai standing casually on it would give me a serious boost when it came to morale. The front row of tanks squeezed into the side as they passed, and a few of their crew sticking their heads out of opened hatches waved my way. I waved back, then jumped down from my mech and walked across the road in time to jump into one of the slow-moving mobile bases. The mech closed up behind me, then leapt into the formation to saunter along next to the Fury. I found Gomorrah in the mobile base''s main room, arms crossed and impassive mask turned down to stare at one of those needlessly fancy holographic maps that command-types probably had wet-dreams about. "Yo," I said. "Good to see you joining us," Gomorrah said. "I hope you had some good rest. It''s going to be a long campaign." "Campaign?" I asked. "I thought this was a day-long thing?" "Days long, more like," she replied before looking up to me. My comms crackled for a second before she spoke directly into my ear, the others in the room kept out of the loop. "We''re waiting for news from Mars. But I heard some hints that it''s not all good." "Ah, fuck. What does that mean for us? End of the world?" "Not that bad, I don''t think. Just that we might have to clear out the still-active hives without the help of big names and high-tier samurai. It''s not going to be a walk in the park." "We''ll manage, right?" I asked. "We''ll either manage, or it really will be an end of the world situation. Better to act and do something about it than wallow and sit around until we''re all alien food. Did you have a good time at home?" "I barely got any time at home," I said. Gomorrah nodded. "Sorry about that. So... do you want to take over all of this?" She gestured to the map and the room, with its many commanders watching us have a conversation they weren''t part of. "What? This is your gig, no?" "I hate every minute of it. You''re better at this." "Fuck no," I said. I had this sinking feeling that my ''fuck no'' sounded a bit like a ''yeah, sure'' to Gomorrah. *** Chapter Sixty-Two - Miniature Wargaming Chapter Sixty-Two - Miniature Wargaming .re0f9fa74706a476384dce92f2085edef{ display: none; } Chapter Sixty-Two - Miniature Wargaming "The main difference between a corporate army force and a national army force comes mostly from the ideology behind both. One is designed to protect and promote profit. The other is designed to protect civilians and national interests. In this essay, I will show how legislating for a shift from national to privatised armies is a net positive for the people who matter." --A Study on Profitable Militarization, The Kissinger Foundation, 2027 *** It was hard, dealing with Gomorrah''s crap while also feeling extremely twitchy and itchy all over. The reflex package was definitely kicking in at the moment. I could feel it working across my entire body, but especially my fingers and toes, which I couldn''t stop from twitching slightly. Unfortunately, with the power armour I was in, that slight twitching turned into far more noticeable motions of my hands. "Are you okay?" Gomorrah asked mid-way through the briefing she was giving me. She was mostly listing out the forces at her disposal. Not mine. I didn''t want to be in charge of jack or shit and no amount of Gomorrah shoving the responsibility my way was gonna change that. "I''m fine," I said. "I got a nerve replacement thing going." "Oh," she replied with a nod. "That''s an annoying one." "Wait, you did the same?" I asked. The nun shrugged. "Nerves, some changes to my musculature. I have sheathing over my bones too. I''ve started the skin replacement." "Really?" I asked. I remembered her mentioning something to that effect yesterday, but we didn''t go into it. "Cat, do you have any idea how much time I spend next to fire?" "I''ve got a decent idea," I said. "More than the average person." And a lot more than anyone sane. She nodded. "Good. Now, do you have any idea how flammable skin is? Not to mention hair." "No, no I don''t think I know that, and to be perfectly honest I''m not sure I want to know." "Hmm," he replied, but he conceded the point. Actually, it felt like I''d earned some points there, but I had no idea how or why. Should I paint some triangles on my shoulders? Would they take me more seriously then? "Okay, so, the plan''s to head north. Are we setting up there or just sweeping in, fucking everything alien up, then heading back home for some R&R?" The general grunted something, then the company list disappeared to be replaced by a map of everything north of New Montreal for some ways. "Our first stopping point will be Saint-Janvier. We''ll be reaching that today. Tomorrow, we''re continuing to Saint-Jrome. There''s a walled settlement there which has held up so far. It''ll be our final staging ground before we continue our move north." "The idea is to wipe every hive within fifty kilometres of New Montreal," Gomorrah said. "That sounds like a deceptively small area, but it''s actually fairly large." The map lit up, a great big section highlighted. "It will take weeks to scout it all manually, but we have some support tools from the Family that will pin-point hives. The army group will be assaulting those in force." "Huh," I said as I leaned forwards. Overall, it seemed pretty reasonable. If we wanted to keep the city safe, it made sense to take out any nearby hives. Sure, the aliens would just group up further out, but then they''d have to travel to New Montreal, and that would mean time to spot them and rain artillery down onto their ugly heads, or move out to intercept in the field. "Okay, okay, so, where do you want Gomorrah and I?" I asked. "On the front," the general said. "We''ve worked with samurai before. You''re likely to kill a lot more xenos without losses than our forces in a short engagement. We''re here to mop up and hold a line. You''re the primary strike force." "Alright," I said. "Yeah, that recon group was pretty useful last time. We should get more mortars and such set up too." The general frowned, then nodded. "I''ll make note of that. Some samurai don''t like indirect fire installations. It ''steals their points''." "Oh, trust me, I don''t mind," I said. If this was as busy as I expected, then there''d be no lack of opportunities to make bank. "As long as I can get back home every night, I think this whole operation is going to be a cakewalk." "You''re really just asking for trouble, aren''t you?" Gomorrah asked. "Hey, troubles done good by me so far," I said. "So, what''s next?" "You won''t enjoy this part," Gomorrah said. "But we need to go over it anyway. Force disposition, material acquisitions, logistical trains, and everything we need to make sure that we can keep this army group fed and stocked up on enough bullets and explosives to make sure everyone comes home alive." She was spot-on when she said that I wasn''t going to enjoy it. The mobile base rumbled on while I at least made an effort to keep up. Gomorrah might claim that she wasn''t good at this sort of thing, but damned did she seem to love making sure deliveries were on time. There was a faint alarm as we finally crossed the outer wall and were out of the city. From this point onwards, it was possible, even expected, that we''d be running into aliens that wanted to do nothing more than chow down on us. Despite everything, I was getting pretty excited for this. It was gonna be fun. Now, if only it could distract me from how my everything was itchy. Fucking power armour. It needed some holes so that I could scratch at myself. *** Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Four Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Four Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Four Sue wasn''t sure how it happened, but some primal part of her acted before her thinking mind caught up. She grabbed Melanie, and pushed her back. Then, with a lack of squeamishness that caught her by surprise a moment later, she wrapped a hand around the squirming alien lodged in the nook of Melanie''s neck and ripped it out. Blood spurted out, and Melanie let out a sigh as she stumbled back and down. Sue was left with an alien in her hand. It flapped a long, skin-covered wing, and its toothy beak opened up as it tried to take a bite out of her. She brought her arm back, then spiked the alien down onto the floor. It crashed there, then spun itself around in a flurry of wings and dangerously clawed little legs. Her handgun came up, and she fired into it until the gun clicked empty. "Sue?" Melanie said. "It''s, it''s okay," she said. Sue was hyperventilating, she realized. They''d had some courses on identifying panic attacks in students, and she couldn''t help but notice that a lot of those same things were happening with her at the moment. She closed her eyes, for just a moment, and recentred herself. There was no noise from aliens rushing over. They were safe. For the moment. Sue opened her eyes, and looked down towards Melanie. "Are you oka--" The words choked in her throat. Melanie was laying in a pool of her own blood. She had a hand pressing down over her neck. Skin was flayed, and Sue felt her stomach churn violently at the sight. "Oh my god," she said as she fell onto her knees next to Melanie. "No, no, we can fix this," she said. Melanie shook her head. "I don''t... I don''t think this is something a band-aid or a kiss can fix." She smiled. Sue blinked quick, hands hovering uselessly. "I, give me a moment!" she begged. Not until the first alien popped its head out from the stairwell before her. She screamed, but it wasn''t fear. It was something a lot worse. Sue brought the gun up and fired. She knew how to aim, even if she had little practice. The first three trigger squeezes ended with three rounds punched into the head of the first alien. The next to blasted holes into the next. Sue didn''t wait for the aliens to charge. She charged them. She was still screaming. The aliens didn''t retreat, but they did die, even as she stumbled after them down the stairwell and down the first flight of stairs. The gun clicked empty, and she scrambled for a moment before changing magazines. The sudden shift in momentum almost cost her as one of those dog-models leapt towards her and swiped for her head. She stumbled back, kicking it in the chest before she found her handgun and emptied it into the monster''s chest. Sue was left sitting there, in a pool of alien blood, halfway down a staircase, panting, empty gun in hand and empty rifle on the floor. The surge of manic energy left her like a balloon popping, and she suddenly found herself crying again. Silently, but persistent. The violence hadn''t plugged the hole, just smoothed it over for a moment. Now it was back, and just as raw. System Initialized! Sue felt her breath catch again. I''m... sorry. My name is Bybyt. Congratulations. Through your actions you have proven yourself worthy of becoming one of the Vanguard, a defender of humanity. Let''s work together to make sure that what happened today doesn''t happen again. Rise, Suezette-- "Grasshopper," she interrupted. "Sorry, I mean. Call me Grasshopper." She smiled. *** Chapter Sixty-Three - Meals Refusing Exit Chapter Sixty-Three - Meals Refusing Exit Chapter Sixty-Three - Meals Refusing Exit "Are you certain about these two? They don''t strike me as competent as their files suggest." --Brigadier General Thibodeau, Internal Memo 2057 *** I was expecting some action. Sure, we''d talk for a bit, do some planning, and point troops in the direction they needed to go in, but I expected to fight something. The entire day passed without a shot fired, and I suspected that I was slowly losing my mind. A month or so ago, not shooting at anything, and especially not having anything trying to eat me (Lucy excepted), would have meant that it was a good day. Now the only thing I could think of was that if the aliens at least tried, then I''d have an excuse to not be in the increasingly stuffy command room of the mobile base with some of the stuffiest people who had ever stuffed. Our progress was tracked in the slow rumble of the mammoth vehicle as it moved forwards at a pace that I could outwalk. It was so slow and steady that I could merely feel the motion, but we were moving, I knew because we were tracked on the large holographic map. Tiny pinpricks, moving ahead one pixel at a time. The worst thing was the itching. Actually, no, that''s not true. The itching was a close second. The actual worst thing was the shitter. The mobile base had a tiny little bathroom, like something in an old-time aeroplane. So small that you needed to enter it from the side and duck your head not to bash it against the ceiling. Navigating that in power armour was not possible, so I had to ditch the armour in the corridor, then squeeze my way in there. It was clean, at least. Some poor low-ranked fuck probably had the glorious task of brushing the whole thing out with a toothbrush every day, but clean was the only positive modifier I had for the washroom. I knew it was a bad day when I was honestly considering the pros and cons of wearing a diaper in my power armour. The convoy came to a stop at around eighteen hundred hours, a bit before sundown so that they''d have time to set up a proper camp. The spot was, until recently, a little lay-over town with a big gas station for automated trucks and a small row of old last-century homes. There was a supermarket with a big parking lot, all abandoned, but it was a wide open space with solid asphalt below. A perimeter was set up, tanks were lined in neat, orderly rows, and a corps of engineers started setting up unfolding fences around the entire lot while others lined up a series of mobile bunkers (because the army was too fancy to call them mobile homes) for the soldiers to rest in. Unfortunately, we could only move as fast as the slowest vehicle in the convoy, which meant we were moving as fast as the tanks with more interior volume than three bedroom apartments. "That was a good day''s work," Gomorrah said as she stepped out of the mobile base. She placed hands on hips and stretched her back out. We walked over to the Fury which was parked right behind the mobile base it had been following this entire time. Gomorrah tsked, then started to circle the car, looking for something. "What is it?" I asked. "Look at all this dust," she complained. "Would it kill them to put some mudflaps on their base? I swear, they''ll flick rocks all over my hood and windshield." "Is the paint scratched?" I asked. The Fury was a cool, very-matte-black. I couldn''t see any scratches, just a lot of road dust and dirt caked on. "No, the paint''s rated for the inside of a sun, it''ll take more than a tossed rock to scratch it, but it''s the principle that counts. You can''t just... not respect someone''s car." "Uh-huh," I agreed. She sighed and the car''s doors opened for us. I made a show of tapping my boots on the ground before getting in. If she was this pissed about the outside, I didn''t want to carry mud inside. "Tomorrow should be better," Gomorrah said as she took off vertically, spun us around, then accelerated towards New Montreal in the distance. "Really? Are we going to go over acquisitions for every kind of bullet again?" She laughed. "No, but we might do peripherals! But more seriously, we''ll be in higher-danger areas. The road between New Montreal and Saint-Jrome has been patrolled a few times, it''s mostly safe. Further out is worse. That, and we''ll be getting some more samurai onboard tomorrow." "Anyone I know?" I asked. "I don''t know exactly who''s coming," she admitted. "Jolly Monarch just let me know that we''d be getting support from some other newer samurai." "Huh, alright," I said. There were a few newbies around. Cause Player was local, so was Crackshot Cowboy. Emoscythe was around, and so was Grasshopper, but they felt... not new. They both had some years under their belts and were probably able to handle bigger problems than Gomorrah and I. Maybe I''d get to meet a few other newbies. With the global incursion going on, I didn''t doubt that there were plenty of opportunities for new samurai to pop up. Home came up ahead soon enough, and Gomorrah slipped into the parking garage at a speed that had me subtly grabbing onto my seat. "Home!" she declared. "Yeah!" I said. It was nice to be back. Now I just had the oh-so-enviable task of explaining to Lucy that I''d be gone for most of the day for the next... while and a bit. Damn, how did people with jobs do relationships if they couldn''t be home all the time? *** Chapter Sixty-Four - New Hair Day Chapter Sixty-Four - New Hair Day Chapter Sixty-Four - New Hair Day "Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, three times is enemy action [...]" --Ian Fleming, Goldfinger, 1959 *** "Can I come?" I think Myalis might have been impressed by just how quickly I came to a conclusion on that question. "Fuck no," I said. Lucy pouted at me, which was downright lethal. She was in bed, wearing a blanket and nothing else. She tugged it up and around her neck a little, so that the only part of her I could see was her chubby-cheeked pout. "Why not?" she asked. "Because it''s dangerous?" I asked the obvious. I sensed that it was something of a trap, though. "And no, that doesn''t mean that I can''t go. Or that I could just give you stuff to keep you safe." Lucy''s pout deepened, and then she flopped backwards onto the bed with a bounce and kicked her legs from under the blankets. It almost looked like she was a brat throwing a tantrum. "Fine! But I want to help." "Ah, well, that''s different," I said. "You could, uh..." I quickly wrote a message on my augs directed to Myalis, basically begging for help. Perhaps you could suggest that Lucy uses the spare time that she has and that you lack to look into some of your current projects? "Oh, I know!" I said with a snap of my organic fingers. "Can you check up on my shit for me?" I sent a thank you to Myalis, and an apology for stealing her ideas. You can have some of my ideas. I''ll consider it charity to the impoverished. Lucy perked up at that, her tantrum ending. It was probably for the best, because she looked out of breath. "What shit do you need checking up on?" she asked. "Well, there''s the prosthetics clinic downstairs. I didn''t look into it at all yesterday. We need to make sure they''re up and running. Then the whole sewer thing. I don''t think you should go check on them yourself, but the Family is doing some work and I need to keep an eye on them. Maybe pop over to their HQ and remind them that I''m paying attention. Oh, and look in on Rac. Heck, hire her to come with you all armed up. It''ll keep her busy and her nose out of trouble." Lucy hummed, then jumped out of bed. "Alright!" I said as she spread her arms and legs wide and stretched. "Yeah, that actually does sound kind of useful." "As long as you''re safe about it," I added. She turned a look my way. "Really? Since when are you so focused on being safe?" "Hey, I always want you to be safe and warm and have everything you ever wanted," I said. It had the advantage of being true. "It''s just that I didn''t think I could give you all of that until now. If you really want to come, I''m sure we can work something out?" It was some semi-fancy techhair. Rooted into my scalp and able to grow more or less naturally if I really wanted it to, but for now it would stay as long as it was. It was tougher than real hair, and the blue highlight on the front actually glowed faintly. I noticed that Lucy was missing, but I could hear her rummaging around in the armoury. I''d save the surprise for later, I decided as I got dressed and ready to go. "See you after work!" I called out. "Bye! Love you!" Lucy called back. "I''m stealing one of your guns by the way. Ohh! And a grenade!" "Uh... okay, don''t kill yourself!" I called back. "Hey!" Lucy shouted. I paused, already halfway through the living room. A few of the kittens were out and they paused to stare. "What?" I asked. "You didn''t say it back," Lucy accused. She poked her head out of the armoury. She was at least wearing an oversized t-shirt now. I was pretty sure most armouries required a dress code that was more than ''just a shirt'' but I didn''t really care. I sighed. "Love you too," I said with a wry smile. Then I pointedly ignored the snickers before I beat a hasty retreat. I got in the garage and noted that the Fury was gone already, so Gomorrah was ahead of me, and probably waiting impatiently for me to arrive. I sighed and hoped she wouldn''t be all judgemental about it as I hopped onto my bike and took off. It felt like it took forever to reach the little walled-off minicity where the army was planted. It looked like there had been some action overnight too. Not at the army''s camp in front of the old supermarket, but to the north of the city. Some smoke was rising out of fresh craters, and I suspected that there were a few homes burning out in the mini suburbia. I came down and parked next to the Fury, which happened to be where Gomorrah was hanging out. "You''re finally here," she said. "We did agree on oh-eight-hundred, right?" "I think so," I said. I didn''t look at my internal clock. If I did I might start feeling guilty. "Sorry, I had to buy my hair." "You could have done... buy your hair?" she asked, confused. "Yup. So, what''s the situation?" I asked before she could get her footing. It looked like the entire camp was doing its best kicked-hornets-nest impression, but I wasn''t sure if that was because trouble was here or if it was just the army preparing to get a move on again. Gomorrah sighed. "Everything was fine until about three hours ago. A group of antithesis pushed in from the north just as the sun was coming up. It''s very likely a coincidence, but they arrived as the guard was rotating, and they got a lot closer than they should have." "How sure are we that it''s a coincidence?" I asked, immediately on guard. "Ninety-nine plus percent, and a few decimals besides," she replied. "It''s likely that they attacked as the sun came up because it offered them more visibility. We just happened to time our guard rotation around sun-up." "Ah," I said. "Well, it''s nice to see that things are already exciting! So, we''re meeting new samurai today, right?" I couldn''t wait. *** Chapter Sixty-Five - Your Average Roleplaying Group Chapter Sixty-Five - Your Average Roleplaying Group Chapter Sixty-Five - Your Average Roleplaying Group "The average samurai isn''t so different from the average person, I don''t think. But... you know how there''s perhaps one person in a thousand who''s spectacular? They''re a genius, peerless, insane in a way that leads to greatness? Within the ranks of the samurai, these geniuses make up something like a quarter of their number. Sure, the average is still average, just people tossed into tough situations and given great power. They''re above-average in all respects, but they''re not so special." -- Excerpt from Deus Ex''s Sleepy Time Blog, 2056 *** "So, what are we looking at here?" I asked. Gomorrah was leading me through the crowd of soldiers and support personnel around the temporary base. "That surprise attack this morning is delaying things a little. We need to move up some road-clearing machines from the city." "Road clearing?" I asked. "Snow plows," she explained. "To ram through all the corpses." I nodded along. "That makes sense, yeah. Surprised we don''t have anything fixed to the front of a tank or something." "I think that exists, but we don''t have it on hand. Snow plows though? There''s some coming up the road at full-speed, we''ll have them here within the hour then start moving out." Gomorrah turned her head my way. "Which happens to leave us with just enough time to meet the new samurai." "Oh boy," I muttered. "What are we talking about here? That was plural, so at least two?" "Four," Gomorrah said. "We know one of them already. Crackshot Cowboy." "Oh!" I said, cheering up a little. Crackshot was actually a pretty cool guy. He had helped on the wall when defending New Montreal a while ago. Had a huge--understandable--crush on Emoscythe. "His whole thing was being super accurate with that old gun of his, right?" I asked. "I think that''s still his specialisation," Gomorrah said. "Long-ranged single-target attacks. He''ll fit in nicely with the two of us if it comes to a fight." "And the other three?" I asked. "I haven''t met them," Gomorrah said. She sent a file my way, and I poked it open. It had some information on the people we were heading out to meet. Not much, but it was there. "Princess and Knight, Hedgehog, and Tankette?" I asked as I read the names. "Gomorrah, that''s four, and with Crackshot... four plus one is five, right?" So, that''s where he earned the name Hedgehog, then. Hedgehog was armed with a pretty standard looking bullpup rifle, and looked like he could have been just another soldier. A well-equipped one, but nothing too outstanding. "Show''s yours," Gomorrah said. I scoffed. "Yeah, right," I said before I spoke up so that everyone could hear me. "Alright. My name''s Stray Cat, this is Gomorrah. We''re not the boss of anybody, so feel free to tell us to piss the fuck off. But somehow we''re the ones in the know, so listen up a bit. If we''re gonna work together then we might as well not accidentally blow each other up. I''m not big on show-and-tell, but I think we can all tell each other the basics. Gom, you can start, since you''re in charge." Gomorrah shook her head, but she did speak up. "I''m Gomorrah. I''m the second in command of the samurai-side of this operation, behind Stray Cat. I''m a fire specialist. I burn things. When I''m not, I watch over our logistics." I rolled my eyes, then gestured to the lady on the mini-tank. She pointed to herself, then smiled. "Oh, hello everyone. My name is Heather, but people have taken to calling me Tankette. I, ah, am not much of a fighter. This is Baby Girl, my tank." She patted the armoured vehicle she was sitting on. "We get up to a bit of trouble together. Oh! And the AI in my head''s called Tynker!" "Pleasure," I said. "I''m Princess!" the girl in the dress said. "And this is my big sister, Knight." "Sup," Knight said. "We''re going to be the best samurai you''ve ever seen," Princess said. Crackshot chuckled. "Well, she''s enthusiastic, at least," he said. "I''m Crackshot Cowboy. Howdy. I shoot things good. Gimme a target and I''ll poke a hole in it like a ripe melon." Hedgehog was the last, and we all turned his way. He started to salute, then paused halfway in the act. "I''m Hedgehog," he replied. "I work for a certain group as a private military contractor. I happened to become a samurai over the course of my duties. I''m here to grow and improve my skills." "Cool," I said. "So that gun''s not just for show?" "I''ve been in active service for six years," he said. I nodded. "Cool. Can we depend on you for all the army-related shit? I''m god-awful at that kind of stuff, even if Gomorrah keeps throwing me at it." One of his eyebrows rose, but he nodded anyway. "I''ll do what I can to help," he replied. "Thanks. Anyway, like I said, I''m Stray Cat. My job is to be loud here, and sneaky out there. I blow things up. Pleased to meet you all. Now, who wants to murderize some aliens, eh?" *** Side Story Poll Three! Side Story Poll Three! Hello! The last couple of sidestories have been a real blast to write, but I''m looking forwards to trying some new stuff! Oh, and there''s a heap more new fanfic too! (If you wrote one, lemme know, fanfic shoutouts are free!)! Anyway! Let''s see if we can''t decide on who''s story to tell next? Here are your options: Manic - (Set: 2057, concurrent with Cat''s timeline, the rockergirl to rock all girls! Tone: Distressed musical musings) Myalis - ??? (Probably a one-off) The First - (Set in 2021, from the viewpoint of the first samurai) If there are any other samurai you''d like to see more of, then let me know! Or even just... periods of time within the setting, or areas in the world that you want explored! I''m thinking of doing short arcs with each one, just showing a snippet of a samurai''s life. Stray Cat Strut - Fanfiction List! Stray Cat Strut - Fanfiction List! Hello! So, to my great amusement and pride, Stray Cat Strut has accumulated a fair amount of fanfiction over its lifetime, and I''m pretty dang proud of it all! So I decided to make a post listing them off right here! They''ll be split along two broad categories. Direct fanction, and indirect. Direct are stories that take place within the SCS canon. They''re in the same world as the main story line, work along the same general rules, and share some common history with Stray Cat Strut. It is entirely possible for these fanfiction to have bump-ins with canon characters and events. Indirect stories take broad elements of Stray Cat Strut and use them to create a new world. Sometimes it''s just the system and early lore, other times it''s a collection of storytelling elements from Stray Cat Strut. If you''re a fanfiction writer, and you want your story included on this list, then please comment below! Oh! And include a link! I''ll add your story as soon as I can! Direct Fanfiction Tinea and Leah (by Eleeyah) Aden... Aden had an ugly childhood. It taught him how to fight and survive, taught him how to run and hide and cut ties. Taught him that he wasn''t born right. It didn''t teach him much else. So Aden ran. Aden grew up. Discovered the world, and crossed an ocean. Made his life his own. Soul-deep pain notwithstanding, he fought to be happy. Aden made due. Until the aliens invaded his neighborhood. What to do when you have a rifle in hand, and are damn good with it? What to do when the rifle isn''t enough, when the only way to save a girl and her mother from death, is to die himself? Aden makes his choice, and is rewarded beyond his wildest dreams. Or perhaps...exactly to his wildest dreams. Ladies and Gentlemen! Follow Aden as he alters his DNA with the power of Vanguard science to become what, and who, he wishes to be. Accompany Tinea as she greets the world and promptly explores new places, voluntarily or not. Watch as she meets new people; one in particular, one in terrible need of cuddles. Really, the aliens didn''t make things much worse. Now, armed with the power of a Vanguard to aide and protect those around her, maybe Ava can make things change for the better for once. How To Nurture Your Sprout (by Dumenoct) This is a Fanfic of Stray Cat Strut. It follows the exploits of an introverted man with no confidence and even less fighting ability who nonetheless still finds himself transformed into a Samurai, the Elite fighter in the battle against the ravenous plant aliens known as the Antithesis. Death and Taxes (by Ruat Caelum) Set in the Stray Cat Strut universe. This follows Fredric Francis Fletcher Esq., Tax Attorney in the Helios Arcology in the Glen River Arcology south of old Phoenix. Indirect Fanfiction Magical Girl Gunslinger by (Mikasane) Would you like to make a contract? When eldritch horrors known as the Anathema began tearing through reality to invade Earth, aliens calling themselves the Zenith stepped in to protect humanity. Individuals were chosen and gifted with the ability to use magic and advanced technologies to combat the existential threat. Over twenty-one years later, the so-called Magical Guardians are still hard at work keeping the peace. With their flashy outfits, superhuman abilities, and reality-defying spells, they are the part-time heroes and full-time idols of modern society. But none of that really matters to Mai, whose biggest problems are dealing with her family, classmates, and the ever growing dread of her imminent future. As far as Mai is concerned, mundane problems are more than enough to worry about, and the idea of magic and monsters might as well be nothing more than daydreams. At least, they were until she finds herself in the middle of an Anathema invasion Halcyon Nightmares (by Aest Belequa) Alice grew up idolizing Magical Girls. Now, shes one of them! When murderous machines attack Alice''s graduation, she''s asked to don the skirt and blazer. Now, shell need to learn how to use her powers and work with a team of other Girls to protect her city from disaster - all while trying to get herself un-grounded! Chapter Sixty-Six - Peanut Butter and Lesbian Time Chapter Sixty-Six - Peanut Butter and Lesbian Time Chapter Sixty-Six - Peanut Butter and Lesbian Time "Channel 69 Nice News Now will be running a mini-doc series on the style and function of the modern-day samurai. From the most common gear choices to the strange and bizarre ways the vanguard of humanity chose to fight the good fight! Available now to all subscribers!" --Channel 69 Nice News Now, 2046 *** I clapped my hands together, and they made a strange cracking sound as my armoured palms met each other. It kind of surprised me, though to be honest, it had been a few years since I had the ability to clap. "Alright!" I said. "Gomorrah here has the plan for our deployment. Feel free to follow it, or not. Right Gom?" Gomorrah glanced my way, then back to the samurai. "I do," she said. "Hedgehog, Crackshot Cowboy. Would you mind riding above the main mobile base? There''s a platform at the top that should afford you some decent visibility." "Can do," Hedgehog replied. "No prob," Crackshot said. He grunted as he stood up, then stretched his back out before grabbing his rifle. "We can make a game of it, huh?" "That wouldn''t be very professional," Hedgehog said. "Oh, we don''t need to gamble on it, just a friendly one-up. I don''t like gambling. My uncle lost it all to the slots, you know?" "Right," Hedgehog said. Gomorrah glanced between the two, then refocused on the others. "Tankette, we have some light armour at the front of the formation already. Do you think you could join them?" "I think so," Tankette replied with a nod. "I''ll send my mech with you," I replied. "It won''t steal your kills, but it''ll be around if you need the added oomph." "Oh, I''d appreciate that," she said with a kindly smile. "What about Knight and I?" Princess asked. "Can we work with you?" I glanced at Gomorrah, then shrugged. "Sure. If someone wants to do the logistics shit for me, I''m very much more than willing to give it all up." "As long as we get to work with you," Princess said with a dainty little clap. She seemed... a little fangirl-ish. At least Knight, next to her, didn''t start jumping around and squeeing. "Um," Tankette said. It was a slight thing, but it still caught everyone''s attention. She noticed that we were all looking her way, and straightened herself, then tugged her blouse on straight. "I brought lunch boxes," she said with a perfectly straight face. "Lunch... boxes, ma''am?" Hedgehog asked. "Ah, hell yeah," Crackshot replied. "Man, I haven''t had lunchboxes since my grandmamma passed." "Aww, Knight, don''t be that way!" Princess said before she skirted around Knight and came to stand next to me. "I saw you shoot the mayor! And that big fight with your mecha against those PMCs! That was so cool!" "Oh, uh, thanks," I said. "And Gomorrah too! You got to fly in her car, the God''s Righteous Fury! That car is so sexy! What was that like?" "You''re asking me what it was like to ride in Gomorrah''s car?" I asked. Gomorrah was literally right there. She could probably go on about the car for an hour or two. It might not be safe for anyone under age to hear (because that kind of passion should really be reserved for the bedroom) but still. "Uh, it''s nice? Seats are comfortable enough, there''s a mini-fridge. Uh, the viewscreen is pretty nice? It flies fast. Gomorrah''s a pretty sick pilot, though her car did complain about aubergines the last time we flew together." "What?" Gomorrah asked. "Aubergines? They''re like.. A fruit? Vegetables? The purple ones," I explained. "Cat, I have literally no idea what you''re talking about," Gomorrah said. "You remember, you did those twisty flying manoeuvres, and then the Fury was like ''Aubergines, Aubergines!''" Gomorrah''s expressionless mask stared at me some more before she looked away. "It was saying ''Overgee," she replied. "You''re a moron." "Is that what it was saying?" I asked. "Actually, yeah, that makes a lot more sense." You have... you have ears that are significantly better than any baseline human''s. But I suppose that hearing and comprehending aren''t the same thing. Princess laughed and tapped my arm with her hand. "You''re so funny, Miss Stray Cat," she said. "Funny and cool." "Uh, yeah, thanks," I replied. I was getting the uncomfortable feeling that Princess thought we were a lot closer than we were. Emotionally, that was. She was pretty much in my bubble already. I couldn''t think of a nice way to shove her back though, not short of saying ''I have a girlfriend'' and possibly embarrassing the shit out of her. This wasn''t the kind of problem I came here expecting to have to manage. "Anyway, you''ll be staying with us on the command rig?" "If that''s allowed," Princess said. "Yeah, sure. You know what, I''ll ask the general to explain our logistical chain. That should be real useful for you to know. It should only take a few days." "Huh?" "It''s good for you," I insisted. Anything that would get me out of an awkward situation was definitely good, as far as I was concerned. *** The First - Chapter One The First - Chapter One The First - Chapter One I''m just a guy, just some dude, trying to make ends meet, trying to get my shit together. Generally disappointed in life, generally on the broke side of things. I''ve got an okay job as an insurance broker. It pays enough. I graduated from college about six years ago. Or is it seven now? I''m twenty-nine, going on thirty. It''s October, so it''ll be my birthday in... six days. I don''t expect to do anything for it. I know, I''ve always known, that shit''s going to hit the fan some day. I think it''s all the news I watch, and the job. There''s nothing like hearing sob stories and seeing people''s lives going to shit all day to crush that last little bit of hope. My job is half to convince people to pay the company more than they should for a service that I''m also paid not to deliver. It''s hard to do this kind of work and not be a cynic, but I figure it could be worse. I could be on the streets. I think things are a little fucked, and I''ve never been sure of what I can do to fix them. But I kind of expected the end to happen... you know, more biblically? Maybe a Chinese nuke? Or climate change will just barrel on past the point of no return, and I''ll die of a heat stroke at the office when corporate decides to cut corners and not turn on the AC one day. I figure that, in reality, I''ll probably go out the same way my uncle and father did. My heart will just... give up one morning. I''m standing in the parking lot just outside. A few of the others have run back inside, they''re afraid, of course. It''s reasonable. I see Peter from Accounts Receivable opening the trunk of his hatchback, pulling out a handgun and starting to swallow it before Eric slaps him behind the head and wrestles the gun away. Yeah, I guess it''s not the time for that. My name is Zane Martinez. Right now, at this very moment, I''m watching as the skies open up and aliens come pouring down onto the city. My first thought was ''wow, this is going to be a lot of work.'' I think that''s kind of sad, but I don''t know if I still have it in me to really feel sad anymore. "We''re so fucked," I mutter. "Shut up, Martinez," Cindy says. She''s hot. And also a cunt. Keeps calling me Zane from Zanesville, as if that''s the funniest joke I haven''t heard a million times. "I mean, what the fuck are those?" I ask as I gesture to the holes in the heavens. There''s tentacles. I... have seen some things that I''m not proud to have watched, the kind of shit that I''ll only watch in Incognito mode. This is not that. These things are huge. If I didn''t have the Cincinnati skyline to help, I might not even be able to put a scale to things. The trunks? Tentacles? The things, they look like they''re as thick around as a bus, and they''re coiling down like someone''s spilled intestines, all wet and pulsating. Has someone ripped god''s guts open over Cincinnati? Why? Cleveland''s just an hour away. Sure, downtown is a half dozen miles away, but I can tell when something''s growing bigger. "Fuck!" I shout, and suddenly, the pod is right there. I swerve to the right as an explosion rocks out just ahead and to my left. It crashed onto the bumper-to-bumper traffic to my left. The damned thing looked like it might have been the size of a car from afar, but now that it''s close, it''s closer to the size of a greyhound, and this one just crushed half a dozen cars. I stop and stare. It''s not smart of me, but traffic''s dead now. A few cars have slipped out of their lanes and no one''s moving anywhere. The big... egg-thing is alive. It''s pulsating, covered in large gel-like sacs on the exterior that squirm, and the tentacles coming out of its rear end are swinging around and slashing out at the air. I don''t know what is going on, exactly, but I know that I don''t want to be here. The egg''s sides opened up, large tubes slipping out of holes like tongues out of a drooling mouth. They open up, swelling as something large passes through, and just like that, the egg gives birth to some large, placenta-covered thing, right there on the street. "Fuck that," I say even as it pumped out another. I almost gun it. My little Toyota''s well insured. I can ram my way past the minivan ahead. But there''s people under that thing. There''s people around it. And even as I watch, one of the things the egg just dropped stands up and takes off at a clumsy trot towards the first kind soul to come out and try to help. It opened a mouth that''s all wrong, and latched onto his face. A moment later the alien pulls its head back, and serrated teeth take half the guy''s face off. "Ah, fuck no," I say. And that''s when I reach back into the space between my seats and grab a tire iron. I always imagined using it to bash some car thief''s face in. This... isn''t that, but not sure it matters at this point. It ain''t right to sit back and do nothing, so I''m going to do something. Just as long as I don''t think about it too much. *** Chapter Sixty-Seven - Tank You (For The Sandwiches) Chapter Sixty-Seven - Tank You (For The Sandwiches) Chapter Sixty-Seven - Tank You (For The Sandwiches) "When it comes to at-home self-defence, the popular option, for years, has been a handgun in a safe. We think that''s slow, and unlikely to scare off the prepared bandit. Our solution? The self-defence pillow frag!" --Failed Advertising campaign for at-home high explosives, 2045 *** I wasn''t sure if I should have been disappointed or not, but the first attack against the convoy as it was moving happened so quickly and was dealt with so rapidly that I didn''t even have time to get out of the mobile base before it was dealt with. The attack hit our right flank, just as we were nearing one of the many little rivers cutting across the landscape. There was an old cement bridge crossing the river, maybe forty metres long. Not even a proper suspension bridge or anything, just a plain old boring thing. The aliens came out from the side of the bridge, launching themselves out of the brush and rushing at our front flank. The computer on the mobile base quickly made a headcount and marked out something like half-a-hundred model threes and twice as many model ones. There was a sprinkling of bigger models too, tankier ones, and some of those tentacled fucks. The tanks came to a stop, then started to rotate their guns to the right. Then Tankette got involved, circling around and ahead of the formation so that she could aim back at the swarm. She opened up on the lot of them and turned the enemy into so much swiss cheese. I was left chewing on my sandwich (she''d cut them at an angle, then flipped one half around so that the sandwich looked like a little heart in the box. She''d placed some baby carrots in the spaces left over too) while I watched aliens die in droves. The boys on the roof were chatting over the coms while taking shots at the aliens in the lead. Once the tanks and support vehicles right behind had the aliens in sight, it was all over. Multiple criss-crossing lines of machine gun fire was a pretty text-book counter to a charge. The thing that surprised me the most was the reaction to the flying models. Someone opened up on them with a repeating net launcher. The shots would go out for a few metres, then explode outwards into a net some three or four metres wide. The model ones in the net''s path would get smacked out of the air by the net as it came back down, and it looked like maybe the netting itself was sharpened. Once the last gun went quiet, I waited a beat, then opened up the ''all'' coms. "Well done, everyone," I said. "But let''s not party too soon. Keep your eyes open as we cross the bridge. Good reaction out there, Tankette." "Thank you," came Tankette''s rather shy reply. "She''s pretty good," I said as I cut off the coms. "What kind of gun is that tank of hers rocking?" "We''ll figure it out once we''re in Saint-Jrome. We''re going to have to do patrols around the city for a while anyway, right?" "North River?" I asked. "Yes? That''s what it''s called," he said. "Wow. Someone was feeling daring that day," I muttered. "Sorry, go on." "In any case, we''ve identified one hive to the north of the city. It''s been pushing into the city for some time. The defences held until last night." Gomorrah''s head snapped up. "They fell?" "The city''s guard, which is really just militia, some local volunteers, and a small PMC contracted to keep the city safe, were unable to stop the hive at the northern wall. They''ve begun pulling back and into the city itself. Citizens were evacuated to the southern end of the city. There are a number of shops and chain stores there, with automated anti-theft systems and their own security staff. The city was able to convince the owning corporations to allow the citizens to use the stores as a temporary gathering point." The general zoomed into the map, and I leaned forwards to see what he meant. There were some two dozen stores in the area, with a small wall running along the south. A lot of the stores had large parking lots, some over multiple floors, and most of them had fences around their lots. It looked like the parking lots were filled to the brim, with dozens more cars sitting outside of the area creating a makeshift wall. Everyone that had evacuated probably did so by car, creating a small fuckload of congestion on the roads. "How old is this?" I asked. "Four hours," the general said. "We could have been informed early, about the breach," Gomorrah said. "I don''t see how it would matter overly much. We''ll be arriving in three hours," the general said. I hummed. "Knowing earlier wouldn''t hurt all the same, but yeah, we still have time to prepare. Do you have a plan already, general?" The general nodded then gestured over his tablet again. The map pulled back, then switched to a 3d render instead of a satellite image. A red arrow pushed into the city from the south, then split down the centre of the city. "The Twenty-Second battalion will push into the far end of the city, plugging the gap. Meanwhile, the fifth battalion will form a line in the centre of the city and march forwards to meet the Twenty-Second." The formation was something of a cross, a beam down the middle all the way to the north, then a cross-line that moved forwards, sweeping through the city until it reached the end. "And the recon battalion?" I asked. "The seventy-Seventh will be reinforcing the walls of the parts of the city that are still in human control," he said. "They''re not entirely equipped for wall duty, but more bodies can only help. Some of them will remain behind to help set up our new base camp, leaving room for our supplies to come in." I nodded. "Okay. Princess, Knight, you''ll be on foot, with Crackshot and Hedgehog. Gomorrah, can you slip ahead with Tankette and the armoured battalion? I''ll be on the ground too, I guess. Once we''ve got the city secured, we''ll see who''s available to hit up that hive." *** Chapter Sixty-Eight - Do Not The Princess Chapter Sixty-Eight - Do Not The Princess Chapter Sixty-Eight - Do Not The Princess "Saint-Jrme is a suburban city located about 45 kilometres northwest of Montreal on the Rivire du Nord. It is part of the North Shore sector of Greater Montreal. It is a gateway to the Laurentian Mountains and its resorts via the Autoroute des Laurentides." --Wikimedia Foundation "Saint-Jrme", November 2023 "Saint-Jrome is a suburban city located about 60 kilometres northwest of New Montreal on the Rivire du Nord. It is part of the North Shore Defence sector of the New Montreal Anti-Antithesis Pact. It is a gateway to the Laurentian Mountains and its resorts via the Pepsicola Highway." --Wikimedia Corporation "Saint-Jrome", November 2043 *** We rolled into Saint-Jrome with a lot more fanfare than I expected. In my mind, we were about to cruise into a city that had been fucked up. Sure, we were playing the roles of big damn heroes, but it didn''t mean I expected the locals to give much of a shit. Instead, we rolled into the city only to be greeted by a crowd swarming on a bridge above the exterior wall of the city. Some thousand-odd people, waving banners and flags and cheering the army''s convoy as we rumbled in. Crackshot waved at the people above as the mobile base rumbled past and was promptly nailed in the face by someone''s panties. "We''re a lot more popular than I expected," I said as I watched it all from within the base. We had access to all of the cameras on the armoured vehicles, and some drones hovering above. It gave a good view of things. "This city," General Thibodeau said. "Was almost certainly going to be condemned if we weren''t able to approach. The city itself doesn''t have the pull or money to encourage a large enough PMC presence, not with New Montreal so close. There aren''t enough large corporate interests in the region for them to want to make a difference either. This is just a peaceful little city, with no true worth beyond being a place with a few hundred thousand consumers." "What would have happened, then?" I asked. "The city''s citizens would be told to evacuate further, to New Montreal itself." I blinked. "It took us two days to get here. I mean, we''re moving at a snail''s pace, someone driving straight could make it in a few hours, but... wait, how far is New Montreal from here? Like, the outermost wall?" "Sixty kilometres," the general said. I stared. "You, uh, mean sixty... thousand? Or you forgot a zero?" He frowned in turn. "No? It''s sixty kilometres to the south of here." I turned to the holotank, then took control of it and zoomed out. I could see the place where the army had stopped for the night, and the route back, and... yup, that was 60 whole kilometres. "How in the fuck did this take us two days?" "The first day was mostly getting things organised," Gomorrah said. "I wouldn''t count today as a second day, it''s not even noon yet." "What kind of speed are we moving at?" I asked. Crackshot and Hedgehog climbed down the side of the base and landed next to us, then stretched. "What are our orders?" Hedgehog asked. "You''ll be going with Gom and Princess, Crackshot, you''re with me and Knight. We''ll be taking the east, you''ll be going west. Our job is to clear out the aliens, fuck em up as you see them, keep the soldiers safe if you can." "Don''t take any needless risks," Gomorrah said. "The cleaner this job is, the better. The soldiers should know what they''re doing. They won''t need that much help with weaker models, but they might rely on us for anything bigger, or else they''ll have to call in a strike." "Do we have strike capabilities?" Hedgehog asked. "Mortars only," Gomorrah said. "They''re relatively accurate, but I wouldn''t want to rely on them in the city." I glanced back. There were troops hopping out of APCs by the dozen, with sergeants shouting for order already. Young men and women were doing last-minute gear checks, switching out mags, praying. Doing the kind of shit you''d expect people to want to do a minute before getting into a fight. "We don''t have specific positions or anything," I said. "So we can wander a bit. Gom, are you bringing the Fury?" "I will," Gomorrah said. "Princess, Hedgehog, feel free to ride with me." "Your car is a two-seater," Princess pointed out. Gomorrah looked at her. "The roof." "I, uh, suddenly feel even less secure about Princess'' safety," Knight said. "Gomorrah, Princess looks clean enough, I''m sure she won''t track mud into your car, you can at least let her sit in with you," I said. "I suppose she can''t be messier than you," Gomorrah said. "Uh, what about me?" Hedgehog asked. I stared at him. "Hang on?" With that decided, I called over my mech. I didn''t intend to ride in it, not when most of the fighting was probably gonna be done on foot, but having big guns at our beck and call could only be a good thing, plus the mech had a few spots that I could grab onto while it moved. "Okay. Keep your coms opened, and shout if anything goes wrong. The faster we know about trouble the faster we can blow it up." With that, we split. I showed Knight where she could grab onto the front leg of the mech (which made for a surprisingly smooth ride, if one that left us exposed) and Crackshot was quick to scamper onto the Mecha''s back where he hung on while trying to get his gun pointed forwards. The soldiers started to spread out, and I received an update on the tactical map in the corner of my vision. We were going to spread out, west to east on this side, then start northwards towards the far end of the city. The tanks and armoured battalion were already pushing ahead. "So," I asked as I popped a private channel between myself and Knight. "What''s up with your sister?" "Oh... I thought you''d at least give me a few hours before opening up with that," she said. *** Glossary: Model One? Glossary: Model One? Model One Enemy Classification: Scout / Low-Threat / Seeder / Flight-Capable Elimination Reward: 1 Point Model Description: Model Ones are small avian entities resembling Corvus corone (common crow) in size and appearance, with an average weight of 400-600 grams and a wingspan of approximately 85-100 cm. Their bodies are covered in black skin, and they possess an anomalous circulatory system filled with green-colored blood. Model Ones exhibit high agility and aerial maneuverability, alongside an apparent lack of self-preservation instinct, engaging in aggressive behavior towards larger organisms and mechanical entities. Model Ones do not possess a digestive system, leading to their inevitable death approximately seven days post-birth. Prior to expiration, Model Ones focus on scouting, gathering small objects, and initiating attacks on perceived threats to their hive. Notably, Model Ones death in a localized area contributes biological material necessary for the genesis of a new hive, a process that significantly complicates containment efforts. Artist''s Depiction of a Model One Threat Analysis Report: Model One Threat Rating: Low Overview Model Ones represent a unique and emergent threat. Characterized by their small, bird-like appearance and rapid, albeit short-lived, life cycle, these entities pose a strategic challenge due to their ability to seed new hives upon death and their aggressive behavior towards both civilians and military personnel. Threat Capabilities Rapid Hive Genesis: The death of Model Ones contributes to the formation of new hives. This self-propagating mechanism ensures their persistence in the environment, complicating eradication efforts. Agility and Swarm Tactics: Model Ones exhibit high maneuverability and a propensity for swarming, enabling them to overwhelm targets through sheer numbers and initiate surprise attacks on unarmored individuals or weak points in infrastructure. Non-Digestive Survival: The lack of a digestive system implies that Model Ones do not require traditional sustenance, allowing their entire lifecycle to focus on reconnaissance, collection, and aggression, unhindered by the need to feed. Strategic Threat Assessment Containment Difficulty: High. Traditional containment and eradication methods are less effective due to rapid hive genesis and the aerial mobility of Model Ones. Military and Civilian Risk: Low. While individually considered low-threat, in large numbers or swarms, Model Ones can cause significant disruptions, potentially leading to casualties among unarmored personnel and civilians. Potential for Expansion:Moderate. The ability of Model Ones to seed new hives upon death suggests a significant risk of territorial expansion, especially in regions lacking in preparedness or response capability. Mitigation Strategies Implement surveillance and rapid response teams to detect and eliminate Model Ones before they can seed new hives. [Redacted] Subject: Model One Dissection Analysis Start of Transcript. Dr. Evelyn Hargrove: Recording now. This is Dr. Evelyn Hargrove, though they''ve taken to calling me "Doctor Dagger" around the lab, for reasons that are now becoming ominously appropriate. Today, I''m performing the first full dissection of what the field teams are colloquially referring to as a "Ohio Pigeon." For the record, the subject is deceased upon arrival, consistent with reports of their limited lifespan. Official nomenclature for this little bird is... Model Type One. [Sound of instruments clattering] Dr. Hargrove: Initial observations confirm that the exterior is remarkably similar to that of Corvus corone, a common crow, in both size and plumage coloration. However, upon incision, the internal structure is... vastly different. There''s a complete absence of a digestive tract. No stomach, no intestines. It''s as if the creature was designed to consume nothing at all. The primary eyes, the forward ones, seem very small. I''m willing to bet that they have very limited capabilities. The second set of eyes, those on the sides of its head, remind me of a chameleon''s. The larger eyeball and more complex structure might imply decent ranged vision from these. [Pause, sound of notes being taken] Dr. Hargrove: The circulatory system is present and... fascinating. The blood is indeed green, a feature previously speculated to be due to copper-based hemocyanin, rather than the iron-based hemoglobin found in humans and most terrestrial animals. This warrants further chemical analysis. I suspect that the reason might be entirely different. This smells like... freshly cut grass, not copper, certainly not blood. [Sound of a microscope adjusting] Dr. Hargrove: I''m now examining the wing structure... Musculature is exceedingly well-developed, indicating these creatures are built for extensive, if not exhaustive, flight. There''s a notable absence of fat reserves, aligning with reports of their inevitable death by starvation within a week of birth. [Longer pause, a deep sigh] Dr. Hargrove: It''s a profound thing, to hold a creature in your hands that seems designed for a singular, fleeting purpose. To scout, to gather, to attack, and then to die, seeding the future of its hive. There''s an elegance to it, but also a tragedy. [Sound of instruments being set down] Dr. Hargrove: Final note for today''s dissection: There appears to be a structure not analogous to any avian species known to Earth. They look like grapes stored in the chest cavity. This may be the key to their rapid hive-seeding ability upon death. Samples have been collected for genetic analysis, which I hope will shed light on the origins and mechanisms behind these... Ohio Pigeons, as the locals have named them. [Recording ends] End of Transcript. Addendum M1-4: Note from [][][][][][][], on []/[]/[][][][] We can''t have the average person thinking that a Model One alone can [Redacted]. There''s nothing to suggest that they are capable of higher learning or critical thinking. The death of Senator Maxwell was entirely coincidental. I don''t care that the damned bird had to fly [Redacted] from its hive to get to him. We cannot have the public start thinking that one of the weakest of those alien fucks can think this far ahead. They are stupid birds. They are weak. The American people have nothing to worry about. Glossary: Model Three Glossary: Model Three Model Three Enemy Classification: Scavenger / Low-Threat / Terrestrial Scout Elimination Reward: 10 Points Model Description: Model Threes are the quintessential ground units, resembling terrestrial animals such as dogs or large cats in their four-legged form. They possess a unique ''triple hinged'' jaw mechanism, allowing for an unusual range of motion to the side and down, optimizing their ability to scavenge and defend. With an advanced olfactory system, they excel in identifying the specific nutrients their hive requires. Their loyalty to the hive is unmatched, aggressively protecting it from perceived threats. Although they have a longer lifespan compared to other models, they are often recycled once they are deemed surplus to the hive''s needs. As the most frequently encountered model, their presence is a constant threat to humans due to their role as terrestrial scouts and aggressors. Artist Depiction of a Model Three Threat Analysis Report: Model Three Threat Rating: Low Overview Model Threes serve as the primary terrestrial operatives of their hive. They are frequently the first kind of model produced by a hive. Their commonality and aggressive behavior towards humans and other threats make them a significant concern in inhabited areas. Threat Capabilities Enhanced Scavenging: Equipped with a sophisticated sense of smell and specialized jaws, Model Threes can efficiently locate and obtain resources critical to their hive''s survival. Aggressive Defense: Their innate aggression and protective instincts make them formidable opponents, especially when defending their territory or hive. Model Threes are known to hide in underbrush and rubble in ambush. They also tend to move in packs. The smallest of these are packs of two. The largest recorded Model Three pack had four hundred and thirteen members. Survivability and Adaptability: The physical design of Model Threes, including their digestive systems, allows for extended operational periods and adaptability in various environments. Strategic Threat Assessment Containment Difficulty: Low. Their commonality and terrestrial mobility pose unique challenges for containment and neutralization, but they don''t have noted movement capabilities. Military and Civilian Risk:Low. Given their role in actively hunting and engaging with human targets, Model Threes pose a direct threat to both civilian populations and military personnel. However, they are relatively weak physically and a civilian in good health should be capable of overpowering one. Potential for Expansion:High. The versatility and adaptive capabilities of Model Threes allow for significant territorial expansion and resource acquisition for their hives. They are the primary early-hive expansion models. Mitigation Strategies Targeted Elimination: Prioritize the elimination of Model Threes in strategic areas to reduce the threat to civilian and military assets. Defensive Measures: Implement defensive structures and protocols specifically designed to counteract the unique abilities of Model Threes. Killboxes are effective, as are landmines, tripwire explosives, and some chemical and biological weapons. [Redacted] - Hive Hounds - Jaw Snappers - Scavenger Beasts - Dogs - Doggos - Pups - Puppers - Trash Trackers - Sniffers - Skinks - Mutts - Hounds - Tree Dogs - Little Baby Boys Addendum M3-3: Ongoing research into the ''triple hinged'' jaw mechanism of Model Threes has revealed potential vulnerabilities in their anatomy that could be exploited in combat scenarios. Further analysis is required to develop effective counter-strategies. Addendum M3-4: Note from [][][][][][][], on [][]/[]/[][][][] The increasing encounters with Model Three units in urban areas have raised concerns about their potential impact on civilian safety. These encounters are increasingly coming from people who have managed to capture Model Threes and who are trying to ''domesticate'' them. It should be noted that there has never been a successful case of Antithesis domestication. A conversation with [REDACTED], the personal AI of Samurai [REDACTED] suggests that Antithesis domestication is impossible. Further public advisories should be posted, warning people not to attempt Model Three domestication. Perhaps we can use the footage of previous attempts as a warning? A full eighty percent of domestication attempts end with the breeder being eaten by their quarry. Addendum M3-5: Reports from field operatives indicate an increase in Model Three variants. Model Three Bs first started appearing in western China in 2034. Their appearance resembles that of a large predatory cat. Model Three Bs are somewhat larger than their ordinary counterpart and seem less aggressive and more prone to ambushing attacks. Chapter One - Fighter, Cat, Ranger Chapter One - Fighter, Cat, Ranger Chapter One - Fighter, Cat, Ranger "For a short, fleeting moment, there was a real possibility that technology and weaponry would supplant the need for martial arts. The antithesis put an end to any such thought. Humanity''s foe can be defeated with fist and strike." --Sensei Mo''Money, Opening to his best-selling 78 part Martial Guide to Alien Killing, 2038 *** "There''s the cute little aliens I was looking for," I said. There were only three of them so far, which was actually an auspicious number... maybe? "Myalis, what does auspicious mean?" It means something which will lead to success. Yeah, this was real auspicious. "Model threes, Knight, take the one on the left, Crackshot, take righty," I said. I was currently busy babysitting... no, that wasn''t quite the right term. Crackshot was capable enough, and while I hadn''t seen Knight at work, I trusted that she was at least minimally competent. I could probably leave and everything would work out just fine, so this was less babysitting and more coming along to make sure no one got overwhelmed. The three of us were half-hidden by the shadow of a highway, the road leading up and through the entirety of Saint-Jrome from south to north. It was probably one of those sixteen-way roads, judging by how thick it was. The majority of the buildings here were apartments. I imagined that a lot of people lived here and drove or rode a bus or something to work in New Montreal. Or something like that. I hadn''t done a deep dive in the local demographics, but that made sense to me, and it matched up with the number of apartment complexes out here. "Alright," Knight breathed out. She reached to her hip, gripped the sword there, then pulled it out without any fanfare to hold it out ahead of her with two hands. I knew nothing about sword fighting, even if I carried one around with me. I did it for clout and because it was cool. Knight handled hers like she knew how to use it as more than a metal club. "I like this," Crackshot said as he tipped his hat back. "Sharing, I mean. But, uh, won''t we get a percentage cut of all of this anyways?" "I don''t know, actually," I said. "Does it matter?" He shrugged. "Guess not. Sixty-percent of three-times ten is more than just a flat ten, ain''t it?" I frowned, trying to work the math out in my head. "Well, whatever, the result is still pretty small, no?" Crackshot grinned, raised his old rifle up to his shoulder, then casually punched a hole through the head of the rightmost model three. The dog-like alien took two more steps towards us before the rest of its body realized that it was dead, and it flopped onto the ground, greenish blood geysering out of its stump. I raised my Laser Pointer and took a couple of seconds to line up the sights on the middlemost mutt. A quick squeeze and then a tug to the side to correct my burst, and the dog was dead, two holes punched into its chest--and a third in the asphalt way off behind it, but that was no one''s business. Yes? "Can you keep an eye on Knight? I don''t want to be sworded in the back, if you know what I mean." I know what you mean. I can try to draw up a psychological profile of Knight, if you wish? Without access to a few key information-gathering catalogues, it''ll be rather superficial, based on what social media algorithms and private records have picked up about her, but it should be better than nothing. Or I could ask for Princess'' own AI to assist. "You can do that?" I asked. It''s somewhat strange, but I don''t think it''s too unusual. This situation, on the other hand, is rather unusual. It''s only the third time that a Vanguard is confronted by another Vanguard whose parental figure they killed. I shook my head. "Wait, this has happened three times? Anyway, yeah, do what you gotta. I want to trust her. She seems dependable enough, but I don''t wanna be stabbed. It sounds painful." One moment... from what I''ve been able to gather, Isabelle Dupont is a relatively level-headed and pragmatic young woman. She has a high level of empathy, specifically for her sister, and a good work ethic. I could pour over her interests and hobbies for you, but I don''t believe that would be necessary. "So, will she stab me or not?" I asked. I noticed Crackshot turn to look my way and clammed up. That might have been a bit louder than necessary. As long as you don''t threaten her sister, or act in a way unbefitting of a Vanguard, then you are unlikely to be stabbed... by Isabelle Dupont. I give even-odds of you being stabbed by something, eventually. You are very careless, Catherine. I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, okay fine." We continued to walk, moving past the three model three corpses. I did notice that Knight casually stabbed the one I''d shot, as if making sure that it was really dead. It was a casual little display of violence that had my hackles rising, but it was also perfectly pragmatic. The alien I''d killed still had a head attached to its shoulder, so why not give it a poke? "So, those three were scouts, yeah?" Crackshot asked. He was scanning the area ahead. "We''re only a tenth of the way into the city. We''ll be meeting more of them, won''t we?" "The outer wall only went down... last night? This morning?" I couldn''t quite remember from the briefing, but it was relatively recent. "Antithesis are quick to build hives, but we''re not going to find anything too intense in the city just yet." "That sounds like you''re trying to jinx us," Knight said. "Nah. I don''t believe in that kind of shit," I said. "I''m mostly talking from experience. Kinda. Bigger models take a while to pop up. We might find some, if the hive that hit the north end was bigger than predicted, but I''m expecting a pretty clean sweep of the city. Oh, look! More points!" A pack of model threes was coming down the road, and I had a suspicion that the birds in the sky above were model ones. In the middle of the pack was a larger model. It didn''t really matter. Crackshot took that big one''s leg out with a shot, then planted a couple more holes into it. I sprayed the rest of them down even as the pack started to really put on some speed. Then they were almost on us, but being plant-brained morons, they focused on the nearest of us, Knight, and soon came to regret that as she started swinging that sword of hers. Give us an hour or two, and I was sure we could clear out Saint-Jrome. *** Chapter Two - IRC Is Forever Chapter Two - IRC Is Forever Chapter Two - IRC Is Forever "User: Stooopid Princess - 2036-02-12 - There are a few samurai who share their powers, yeah. User: Nene - 2036-02-12 - Yeah, I want me some samtech bb! User: MierTam - 2036-02-12 - Why don''t more do it? User: Khorne - 2036-02-12 - Would you trust anyone but yourself with god-tier gear?" IRC Discussion, 2036 *** "Uh, there''s a second group coming in from our right," I said as I glanced that way. I didn''t keep my focus in that direction for long, not when we had more pressing issues coming in from the front. The deeper into the city we went, the more aliens showed up to ruin our afternoon. It was... actually, pretty nice. So far the biggest thing that had popped up was a trio of quill-covered model fives that Crackshot and I had taken out with a bit of concentrated fire. The two of us alone were probably more than enough to take care of this whole group. Actually, I was pretty sure I could do it solo. I was less sure about Crackshot managing it on his own, but his way of fighting was more about sitting back and letting the aliens come to him rather than moving into them. He would have managed on his own, I think, just with a bit of effort. But Crackshot and I had come to an agreement. Well, sorta. It''s not like we sat down and talked about it, so the agreement was mostly built on a few shared looks and some subtle nodding to each other. Yeah, we could take out all of the aliens we encountered so far from way back. Crackshot was living up to his name, and I had grenades and a gun that was fully automatic. But if we went all-ranged badasses, then the last member of our trio would suffer for it. Knight swung her sword in a wide arc with a grunt, the blade whistling through the air before it crashed into the lower half of a model three''s head, then kept on going right through. The model three gurgled as half of its head was cut right off, one of its big mandible-mouth things flying off. That wasn''t quite enough to kill it, though, and it leapt forwards towards Knight. She spun with the momentum of her swing, ducking and weaving right past the alien before she planted her feet and lunged at its side. Her sword went in between two armoured plates, then came right back out, stained a greenish black all along the blade. She was doing pretty well for herself. I wasn''t sure what the point-split was like for her, but I imagined that even if it wasn''t one-hundred percent, she was still earning Princess a good number of points every minute. "Need a break?" I called out. I nod along. "That''s still damned impressive. Are you gonna keep upgrading as you go?" "That''s the plan," Knight said. "Princess'' AI is keeping track of the points I make. Princess buys me gear with half the points I earn, so as long as I work hard, I''ll keep getting better." That''s... surprisingly fair. I''m not sure if I used half of my own points to improve my gear, not when I spend a lot on other crap. "You really care for your sis, huh?" Crackshot said. "It ain''t just anyone that would step up for someone else like that. Normal folk don''t go running towards the aliens, especially not with just a sword." "A sword is what I know how to use," Knight said. "Never did like guns much. But if that''s what I need..." "Eh, don''t sweat it," I said. "I remember the first time I saw Emoscythe fight, she had a scythe-sword and she fucked up a bunch of aliens." Crackshot nodded. "I''ve seen her fight too. In videos and the like. For research. She mostly uses close-ranged weapons. Though she also has a lot of mobility." "Mobility, huh?" Knight asked. She nodded. "That might be something to look into, I guess. I was honestly thinking of investing more into like, shields? I could carry one, and maybe have some deployable shields too. Princess seems to be okay with guns, so if I can lock down areas and force enemies to come in from one direction or something, that could be sweet." I could see that working, more or less. Gomorrah actually fought that way a lot. She''d splash fire around and create barriers of it that the smarter antithesis would gun around. Then she''d nail them as a group. I glanced at the time. It had been forty-five minutes since we started our stroll. "Let''s keep moving," I said. "Have you considered grenades yet? They''re kinda like melee weapons." "How is a grenade anything like a melee weapon?" Knight asked. "Well, you throw it, don''t you?" Knight gave me a look, then shook her helmeted head. "Anyone ever tell you that you''re weird?" "Yeah, a few times," I said offhandedly. Honestly, I was pretty happy that I was able to banter and chat with Knight like this at all. That whole thing with her father, that... well, it wasn''t the best way to start a relationship with anyone, let alone a more professional relationship. This whole thing was going well so far, but I couldn''t help but feel like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then again, Gomorrah had mentioned that the mother of all shoes was hurtling towards us from Mars, so maybe that was it. *** Glossary: Model Four Glossary: Model Four Model Four Enemy Classification: Ambusher / Medium-Threat / Chemical Warfare Elimination Reward: 15 Points Model Description: Model Fours are formidable quadrupeds, marked by their stocky, heavy bodies and front limbs that are a blend of muscularity and tentacle flexibility. These entities excel in stealth, preferring to attack unsuspecting prey from hidden locations. Their most disturbing feature is the ability to secrete biological agents capable of inducing paranoia, fear, or a dulled emotional state in their targets, making them particularly dangerous. The slow movement of Model Fours belies their effectiveness in ambush tactics, where they can utilise both their physical prowess and chemical attacks to devastating effect. Artist Depiction of a Model Four Threat Analysis Report: Model Four Threat Rating: Medium Overview Model Fours represent a significant escalation in the early hive''s offensive capabilities, combining physical strength with psychological warfare. Their method of attack complicates standard engagement protocols, requiring new strategies for containment and neutralisation. Threat Capabilities Biological Warfare: The ability to secrete chemicals affecting mental states places Model Fours in a unique category of threat, capable of incapacitating well-prepared troops without direct physical engagement. Physical Dominance: Despite their slow movement, Model Fours are incredibly strong, capable of overpowering most obstacles or adversaries in close combat. Stealth and Ambush: Their preference for ambush tactics makes them unpredictable and requires constant vigilance in known Model Four territories. Survivability and Adaptability: Model Fours are built to last, with their heavy bodies and tentacles providing both offence and defence mechanisms. Their adaptability to various environments, coupled with their chemical warfare, makes them a persistent threat. Strategic Threat Assessment Containment Difficulty: Medium. Their chemical warfare capabilities and ambush tactics make traditional containment and engagement strategies less effective. Military and Civilian Risk: High. The psychological effects of their chemical secretions can cause chaos and fear, significantly impacting military cohesion and civilian morale. Potential for Expansion: Low. While not as rapidly expanding as other models, the strategic placement of Model Fours can secure key areas and resources for the hive. However, they mostly act in a defensive way, and are not a key unit in hive expansion manoeuvres. Mitigation Strategies Implement sensor technology capable of detecting chemical agents and the unique biological signatures of Model Fours. "Recording now. This is Dr. Evelyn Hargrove. Today, we''re examining a specimen that could very well be the stuff of nightmaresa Model Four. Unlike its predecessors, this model combines brute strength with a form of chemical warfare that targets the psyche. For the record, the subject was deceased upon arrival, ensuring the safety of our team." Dr. Hargrove: "Final thoughtsModel Four is a masterpiece of biological and chemical engineering. The implications of its existence are far-reaching for our understanding of alien biology. It''s a stark reminder that these things won''t just kill us by clawing us apa... ah, fuck, there''s a hole in my PPE. God, I hate quarantine." [Recording ends] End of Transcript. Addendum M4-2: Model Fours have earned several nicknames among troops and civilians, including: -Psyche Fiends -Terror Beasts -Mind Flayers -Mood Wreckers -Mind Melters -Squids -Illithids As an aside, the Model Four is perhaps the most commonly depicted antithesis model in ''divergent'' sexual media. The presence of Alien Hentai and other such media should be reported immediately. Addendum M4-3: Research into the counteracting agents for Model Four''s chemical secretions is ongoing. Preliminary findings suggest that certain compounds can mitigate the effects, but a comprehensive solution is still out of reach. Addendum M4-4: Note from [][][][][][][], on [][]/[]/[][][][] The presence of Model Fours within conflict zones has introduced a new level of psychological warfare. Encounters with these entities have led to increased reports of PTSD and other mental health issues among survivors. Immediate research into protective measures and treatment options for affected individuals is imperative. Addendum M4-5: The slow movement of Model Fours, initially seen as a tactical disadvantage, has proven to be deceptively effective in ambush scenarios. Their ability to remain motionless and undetected until the optimal moment of attack requires a reevaluation of current surveillance and patrol methods. Addendum M4-6: Greetings, My name is Artymisius, the personal AI of the Vanguard Big Blue. I am adding a note to this document on behalf of my Vanguard. Please take note that any attempts to weaponize, reproduce, or use the psychoactive secretions of Model Fours for personal profit and gain will be noticed, and such actions will lead to your termination. Thank you for your cooperation. Chapter Four - Big Cat Attack Chapter Four - Big Cat Attack Chapter Four - Big Cat Attack "A "milk run" was an action that was deemed simple to undertake. The expression coming from the routes taken by milk-deliveries in the past. Now, with Milk being such a luxury commodity, the expression has faded to irrelevance." --Oxford Online Dictionary, Premium Definitions, 2039 *** "Hey, there''s the wall!" Crackshot said. He pointed ahead of him with his free hand, then refocused on plugging alien heads with his bolt-action. I fired the last few rounds in my gun into the crowd ahead of us, then stood a little taller while reloading. He was right, over the sea of aliens was a wall. It was some three or so metres tall, made of naked cement with iron girders at the back, and with plenty of holes blown through it. Some sections had collapsed inwards, probably kicked in by the aliens currently pouring into the city. "Nice! Alright, let''s push these fucks all the way back to the wall, then we can plug it up!" I shouted over all the noise. We were the ones making that noise, mostly. Model threes and the other lower-tier models were usually pretty silent. No roaring or screaming. The only noise they made was when they charged around and even that was their weird feet thumping the ground. Right now, the entire eastern front of our operation was squeezing in, following the edge of the outer walls of Saint-Jrome. The city was more or less oval-shaped, so we were just now reaching the end of it. Highway 117 came swooping down ahead, into a line of toll booths at ground level. We were going to have to block those out too, but for now, what was important was plugging the gap in the wall. I glanced over my shoulder real quick while fitting a new magazine into my Laser Pointer. Knight was hanging back a bit. She had an assault rifle in hand, given to her by one of the soldiers forming a barricade behind us. Sure, she wanted to kill things with her sword more than anything, but there was a point where that wasn''t as realistic. With half the fifth battalion gathering up in one big line, supported by armoured cars and all, the amount of criss-crossing fire into the horde was way too high for one girl to be standing in their way. So, Knight was given a gun and was plinking away at the carpet of aliens. I finished reloading and turned my attention back to the front. This area was mostly occupied by apartment blocks. Not the megabuildings I was used to back home, but something similar in design ethos. They were big all-white squares, maybe five stories tall, with a recessed entrance on the ground level. It was gonna be a bitch and a half checking each one for any alien that snuck off, but that would be a problem for later. I fired a few bursts into the aliens ahead and grinned as those I hit flopped bonelessly a dozen metres away. We were concentrating enough fire on them now that there was no way they''d be making it in, at least, as long as ammo held up and they didn''t pull anything funny. Crackshot shrugged. "Go ahead," he said. By heavy shit, I of course meant my mecha. The giant cat mech thumped its way to the front, then lunged over the row of soldiers walking behind us to land with an earth-shaking crunch next to me. I pointed ahead at the aliens still rushing our way. It wasn''t necessary to point, but it felt cooler. "Kill them," I instructed. The mech''s front lowered, then its shoulders unfolded, two multi-barrelled guns slipping out from enclosures within the mecha before they pointed ahead. Then they both let out ungodly brrts. Two streams of lead flowed out ahead, criss-crossing and spreading out so that they covered the entire wave of aliens. What they left behind were hole-riddled corpses, some of them burst apart from the shots they''d taken. I didn''t even need to pull out the big guns for this kind of small fry. "Well, shit, we could have done that sooner," Crackshot said. "Yeah, but I want you to get some kills, and Knight too," I said. Sure, I had a few ways of wiping out a horde this small without too much trouble on my own. Hell, I had bombs for days. If I didn''t care about collateral I could turn this end of the city into a series of creative craters, but that wouldn''t be fair for the newbies. They needed a chance to practice their shit and get some early points too. I suspected that I''d been given the same chance too, way back when I started a few weeks ago. Deus Ex had been around, so had a few other higher-tiered samurai. They could have probably wiped the floor with any number of aliens, but I suspected that they were leaving little ''bubbles'' of untouched space around any new samurai, giving us a chance to get some early levels in. I was all for doing the same, especially if it meant less work for me. "Alright, let''s move up!" I called out to the troops behind me. I didn''t expect to get a cheer in response, or see some hundred-odd soldiers start charging the aliens, but I wasn''t about to complain. I ran along ahead of them, the mech charging out ahead and crushing whatever was left underfoot. The wall came up soon enough, and the entrance there was jam-packed with aliens crawling over each other to get in though a few fallen sections. I don''t think they were expecting a counter-charge, but antithesis brains being what they were, their only response to seeing an aggressive attack was to attack right back. Fortunately, we had guns. I flicked on the command channel again as I slowed down. There were sergeants trying to get things back in order while some soldiers were repeatedly shooting into corpses or stabbing others with bayonets. "Hey, Lieutenant Colonel Juno? Yeah, we''ve made it," I said. *** Chapter Five - 105mm Armour-Piercing Fin-Stabilised Discarding Sabots For Fun and Profit Chapter Five - 105mm Armour-Piercing Fin-Stabilised Discarding Sabots For Fun and Profit Chapter Five - 105mm Armour-Piercing Fin-Stabilised Discarding Sabots For Fun and Profit "The Trees are coming! Oh god, the trees are coming!" --Overheard from a Soldier of the 45th Heavy Battalion, 2048 *** Things were going fine, and it was making me nervous as fuck. The wall was properly defended now, there were tanks sitting on the outer side blowing up anything that showed up, we had mortars being installed and pre-fabs coming in from behind. I even checked the reports to see if there was something going wrong somewhere. The worst I found was one report about a common side arm having ammo that wouldn''t work half the time, and a second report about a logistics train being ambushed in the city. But it was defended, so the ambusher was mowed down in short order. More teams were being sent back to comb through every building to look for stray aliens to shoot. I almost jumped when Gomorrah called me. "We have a problem," she said. "Oh, thank fuck." "Pardon?" she asked. "Are you... happy that we have a problem?"Fo?ll0w current novE?ls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m) I nodded, even if she couldn''t see me. "You wouldn''t believe how happy I am. I was getting real worried there. What''s the problem, and is it the sort that can be blown up?" "... Yes Cat, it''s the kind of problem that you can blow up. Can you meet me at the front? There''s a FOB over by the edge of highway 117. Princess and Hedgehog are here as well as Tankette." "Alright, I''m on my way. See you in five," I said. "See you in ten," she agreed before cutting the line. I rolled my eyes. Just because I''ve been consistently late in the past didn''t mean that I was going to be late again today. I found Crackshot chatting it up with a few soldier types while wiping a cloth over the barrel of his gun. A tap on his shoulder and a point out ahead was enough to get him to follow. Knight was hanging out by the edge of the wall, her back pressed up against one of its pillars and the visor of her helmet raised so that she could stare at... a physical phone. "Is that a smartphone?" I asked as I got closer. "I''m... sorry, but what are those, exactly?" Knight asked. She had moved around the room to be next to Princess. They were both looking at the same video on a tablet held between them. What was with all the handheld shit today? "Model twenty-twos are also known as mobile hives," Gomorrah said. "They''re one of the larger models in the twenty-range of antithesis. They''re six-legged, big, and pretty tough. They''re also not an offensive model." "They do shit out offensive models," I said. "I... wouldn''t use that term, but it''s not entirely inaccurate," Gomorrah said with a nod. "Model twenty-twos can produce smaller models. Anything in the lower ranges that''s smaller than a midsize car. They can produce something like ten model threes an hour, or between two and four model fives in that same timespan. They often produce mixed models." "How many of them are there?" I asked. I scrolled back in the video, then counted the line. "I see seven?" "We know of nine," Gomorrah said. "But for all their size, they''re relatively hard to spot." "They''re heading this way," Princess said. Then her face lit up in a massive grin. "They''re heading this way! We''re going to get to see you at work, Miss Cat!" "Uh... uh-huh," I said. That girl still creeped me out something fierce. "We''re going to have to roll out the welcome wagon for them, that''s for sure. If they are heading this way, will the Twenty-Second be enough to take them down?" That last part was directed to the two Lieutenant Colonels. Britannica sniffed. "I''d like to see them stand up to a salvo of 105mm armour-piercing fin-stabilised discarding sabots to the face!" "Myalis, I''m going to assume that that would work?" Yes. That would certainly be sufficient to take out a model twenty-two. I nodded. "Cool. So we either sit back and wait for them to get into range, in which case we blow them the fuck up, or we rush out there and mess them up ourselves." "I think the problem isn''t so much the model twenty-twos as it is the number of them, and their origin. There''s a hive to the north capable of producing a large number of these. That''s a concern," Gomorrah said. "And just because they''re coming this way, doesn''t mean that they won''t stop out of weapon''s range and just sit there producing more and more aliens to send our way." "They have a lot of biomass available to them," Hedgehog said. We all turned his way. "I''ve seen this kind of thing before. They''ll sit way back and start pumping out weaker models by the dozen, then by the hundred, then in massive swarms. We''re going to run out of bullets before they run out of trees and dirt to eat." Well, that was a bit of a problem. *** Chapter Six - Forbidden Bath Salt Chapter Six - Forbidden Bath Salt Chapter Six - Forbidden Bath Salt "A river red beneath the moon, Carves through the land, a sorrowed tune. It flows where hope and dreams are slain, In its wake, only shadows remain. Red River Armaments. Violence is Poetry." -Ad for the Red Moon auto shotgun, 2041 *** "I suggest violence," I said. That had a few of the others turning my way, so I shrugged and decided to explain. "Look, if we sit on our thumbs and spin, then we''ll never get anywhere before the aliens gather enough biomass to eventually overwhelm us." "Sit on our... oh, I get it," Princess said. Then her face reddened. "I wish I hadn''t." "Do you have to be so crude?" Knight asked. She didn''t seem to mind so much earlier, when Princess wasn''t around. Was Knight that bothered about the purity of her sister''s mind or something? I could recall a few people that were scandalised about the language we used at the orphanage, but that generally only encouraged us to be even more vulgar. "Right, point is, if we sit here, we''re gonna get... fricked? No, I''m sorry Princess, I''m not censoring myself, that shit''s fucked." "It''s okay, Miss Stray Cat," she said. "I wouldn''t want you to be anyone but yourself." That earned her a look from a few of the others. Tankette especially seemed a little worried. "Uh-huh," I said. "So, if we sit here, we die. Or worse, we''ll have to call in reinforcements to bail us out in a few hours, maybe a day if we fight hard enough, right? Myalis, can you give us rough estimates here?" Certainly. Based on the number of model twenty-twos, I can reach certain conclusions about the size and capabilities of the hive producing those models. These are, of course, very rough. Several factors come into play. The distance from the hives to their advance, the approximate age of the hive, the local available biomass, and the hive''s temperament. I nodded along. The others did too. Myalis was transmitting live, her voice coming from all of the little speakers in the room at the same time. Somehow it didn''t sound like shit despite the varying quality. On the lower end of that spectrum, it is entirely possible that a relatively young hive has dedicated all of its production to the birthing of the nine visible model twenty-twos. This would have taken a small hive three to four days, less if the initial models started to produce assistants from the moment of their birth. This scenario is unlikely. "And the high end?" Gomorrah asked. On the opposite end of the same spectrum, but weighing for the currently visible number of antithesis in the region, it''s possible that there is a medium-to-large sized hive that has split its production, creating several model twenty-twos in order to expand faster whilst also keeping up the production of a variety of other models. This scenario is also unlikely. Myalis was kind enough to pull up a satellite image of the lake in question. From above, it was a roughly squarish lake, one that looked like it had dried up a whole lot. The area all around it was yellow, as if all the grass there had been burned away. It went on for a while, too, and I could trace the location of little rivers and shit because of the dead vegetation around them. "When was this?" I asked. "Some five, six years ago," he said. There are no public records of this. There are, however, tangential ones. The company''s founding, its initial growth and hiring period, then its closing relatively recently. Furthermore, there are reports of a threefold increase in cardiovascular issues in the area, as well as a sixty percent increase in lung and kidney cancers for all humans within a hundred kilometre radius downwind of the site. I shut off my helmet''s mic. Myalis had sent that last tidbit to me alone. "Isn''t New Montreal within a hundred kilometres?" I asked. Yes. "And no one''s throwing a shitfit over it?" I asked. Cardiovascular issues kill more humans than the antithesis do every year. Masking this wouldn''t be overly difficult. "Huh... add the CEOs and shareholders of both companies to my shitlist, then send it to the Family," I said. Noted. Sent. "Okay," I said, then remembered to turn the mic on. "Okay," I repeated as if I hadn''t just fucked up. "So, good odds the hive''s started in that spot, where whatever hyper-fucked insecticide is messing it up. Honestly, I kinda don''t want to bring the soldiers in closer unless they''re in full PE gear." "PPE," Gomorrah said. "That too. Which means it''s just the samurai here. Can you guys hold off any aliens without us while we run up north and blow this hive up?" "Is using explosives a good idea?" Hedgehog asked. "That''s against standard procedures when dealing with any space where the dirt is a carcinogen. You don''t want to toss it into the air." "Ah, right... well, we''ll kill it some other way, but it''ll be dead in the end," I said. "I''m not anyone''s mom, so I can''t tell you guys what to do, but I''d suggest some gear to resist whatever fuckery''s in the air." "I am someone''s mom," Tankette said. "And I''d really appreciate it if everyone took some basic precautions here. Better safe than sorry." Princess nodded. "I''ll do what I can. Knight too! We made a heap of points today, so it''s no big deal." "Cool," I said. "So, we ready to head out right away?" The sooner we headed out and hit the hive, the faster we''d be done. And I didn''t want to be out there after night fell. "Before that," Tankette said. "Maybe a light lunch, and some time to use the washroom?" I blinked. "Yeah, okay, sure." Fuck it, it wasn''t like anyone wanted to piss behind a radioactive bush, not when there were good odds the bush was part antithesis and was just waiting to bite your ass. *** Chapter Seven - Exotic Cuisines Chapter Seven - Exotic Cuisines Chapter Seven - Exotic Cuisines "You don''t want to go to war with an empty tummy now, do you?" -Tankette, to Brigadier General Thibodeau, 2057 *** We had a light lunch, which in my mind meant ordering up something from Myalis to snack on before we headed out, but apparently that wasn''t right according to Tankette. The woman heard my plan to just order something to eat, then she calmly but firmly put her foot down. "I don''t think that''s a good idea," she said. "You don''t?" I asked. She shook her head. We were still in the command pavilion in the middle of the highway, but Tankette looked ready to leave. "Sure, ordering food is fine when you''re busy, but you can''t order food that has any love or attention put into it. Come on, follow me, please." I glanced at Gomorrah as Tankette left the pavilion, but all I got out of the nun was an unhelpful shrug. So I followed after Tankette, and soon the others did the same with varying amounts of enthusiasm. Tankette''s tank was parked next to the Fury, but it started to rumble and move before Tankette was even there. The little tank rolled towards us, then did turn on the spot so that its rear was facing our way. The samurai popped open a small trunk at the rear, and I blinked as I saw how much space was in there. It looked like the space where the engine should have been was mostly taken up by shelving and a few unfoldable things. Tankette tugged a bar out, then stepped back while pulling it. A whole mini-kitchen came out of the back, along with a small countertop. Pieces clicked into place, parts folded into parts that snapped and locked until she had her entire setup ready before her. There were two little stovetop rings, a small oven-looking thing, and what I suspected was a microwave next to the bottom half of a blender. "Okay," Tankette said as she turned our way. "Are there any dietary things I should know about?" I looked around. "Uh, not for me?" "I''m fine with everything," Gomorrah said. "Are you going to... cook?" "Why yes, of course," Tankette said. "Strange," Crackshot said. "But alright, I''m down for it. I don''t like onions." "Don''t like, or are allergic?" Tankette asked. Crackshot frowned. "You know when you make eggs and you leave a bit of shell in the egg and then you bite on it?" he asked. "Yeah, onions do the same for me. It ain''t so much the flavour, it''s the texture that''s all wrong." "I''m allergic to sesame seeds," Princess said with a little wave. "I get a rash, it kinda sucks." "When you join a force, they don''t want useless idiots. So you get un-contracted training. Half of the time you''re unpaid too. It depends on the company. Some do it for a week, others take it a lot more seriously." I shrugged. "Alright man, if that''s what you''re like, then that''s cool. What happens when someone on the other end of the contract fucks it up?" He shook his head. "Then they''re in breach of contract. A good contract will have consequences baked into it. There was a time where I couldn''t actually do anything about that kind of thing, but I think that''s past now." Right, this guy was a little weirder than I''d initially thought. Why was it that every samurai I met was a hair shy of being a fucking nutjob? Why was I the only normal one? It took twenty minutes or so for Tankette to get the food ready. There was some sort of rice-like thing, kinda beige-yellow, that she filled into some bowls, then veggies were tossed on top. Most of them looked normal, shit like carrots and such, but a few looked downright weird. "Thanks," I said as I accepted a bowl. Princess gave me a look, then smiled and offered me some chicken that they''d cooked in a little pan with some sort of sweet-smelling sauce. To be entirely honest, while I initially thought that this was a massive waste of time, I was reconsidering it now that I''d removed my helmet and could smell the food cooking. I mean, there was some stink from the city, and there was a small mountain of burning antithesis corpses next to the wall, but the stir-fry''s smell was stronger, and way better. "What veggie is this?" I murmured so no one would hear as I raised a fork stabbed into something brown. That is a non-terrestrial plant. Don''t worry, it''s safe for human consumption. It''s actually a seed, though its texture is similar to modern potatoes. I shrugged and took a bite. It was a little... tangy? It had the same kind of acidy taste that tomato sauce had, but without the same flavour. It wasn''t bad though. Honestly, as I scarfed through my bowl, I could see why Tankette was so into this. The food was warm and better than just about anything I''d eaten in recent memory, and it was nice to just stand around and eat. Even Hedgehog relaxed some. Tankette seemed very proud of herself as she started packing things away. She put leftovers into little boxes and gave them to anyone who wanted some. Gomorrah, as the only person with a place to put stuff nearby, ended up taking most of the leftovers while Crackshot had seconds. "Okay," I said before wiping my mouth clean with the back of my hand. "So... we''re fed, everyone''s gone to take a piss. I think we should get moving now. The longer we sit around here, the more aliens we''re going to have to deal with. Tankette, Gomorrah and I are going to take the lead." "And I," Gomorrah said. "Yeah, I mentioned you," I replied. "Anyway, I think we''re going to have to borrow a car or two from the army so that everyone can come along. It''s too far to have you guys ride on a mech or on Tankette''s tank." "I can drive," Crackshot said. "I don''t have a licence, but I know which pedal makes you go fast." "I''ll drive," Hedgehog cut in, leaving no room for arguments. I nodded. Yeah, this was gonna go just fine... but holy crap, I really wanted a post-lunch nap. *** Chapter Eight - Whats a Metaphor? Chapter Eight - What''s a Metaphor? Chapter Eight - What''s a Metaphor? "The armed forces of the world will always need a fast-moving, lightly armoured vehicle of war. Now more than ever. The threats we face today come from aliens who mostly attack from up close or with biological weapons, and protestors who are only rarely armed with anti-material weaponry." --The Kissinger Institute, ''Armed Forces and You'' digital pamphlet, 2031 *** The army was more than happy to let us borrow something to go charging into the aliens, in fact, Lieutenant-Corporal Britannica welcomed the idea with open arms and brought up a catalogue with every tank, armoured car, and transport truck listed on it. Hedgehog was the designated driver, so I left the choice up to him. I was still a little disappointed when he picked out a small-ish humvee-like truck. He explained that it had an automatic transmission and drove like a normal car, more or less. It had large wheels and was mounted up, so it would have decent clearance off-road. Otherwise, it was lightly armoured, specifically to deal with lesser antithesis threats, and the gun mounted on the top was remote operated. His AI was willing to take over there. I got in the Fury with Gomorrah. Tankette had her mini-tank, so that left Princess, Knight, Crackshot, and of course Hedgehog in the truck. My mech was following at the rear, to cover us in case anything happened, though Gomorrah''s car had just as much firepower as the mech or the tank, though in a different package. I checked the time before we left. It was some ways past noon. The little cook-off had eaten into our daylight, but it wasn''t so bad. We had some hours of sun to burn still. I did plan on making it back home before night, or soon after. "Alright," I huffed as I crashed into the passenger seat next to Gomorrah. "It''s like herding cats. Why haven''t we elected someone who isn''t me as leader yet?" "Because I don''t want to do it, and you''re actually pretty decent at this," Gomorrah said. "I think we''ve gone over this before." She put her car into gear, and we started to move along. The highway would be good enough for some ways. We''d have to veer off and either circle around and use some shitty backroads to get to the lake, or go through the woods and push through the line of model twenty-twos way ahead. I made sure that my comms were off, so it was just Gomorrah and I, and I supposed our AI, who could hear us. "So, what do you think about the group?" "As a whole?" she asked. "Green." "Green as in good, or green as in a bunch of untrained newbies?" She thought about that for a bit. "Can I say both?" "Yeah, I guess," I said. "But elaborate anyway." Gomorrah glanced at me from the corner of her eye. "I was only with Princess and Hedgehog, but I guess I can report on Tankette too." I nodded for her to continue. "Princess is enthusiastic. That''s about the best I can say about her. She''s unfocused, doesn''t spend her points wisely, if at all, and she doesn''t seem to treat the enemy as a threat. She''s mostly fearless though, but I''m not sure if that''s a pro or a con." "Huh, interesting. Knight is super focused. She''s actually a good fighter with what she has, and when we gave her a gun she was pretty good with it too. Very calm, a little careful, I think? She reminds me a bit of some of the soldiers we have, but less... stick up her ass?" "They''ll make for an interesting pair together, then," Gomorrah said. "If Knight can encourage Princess to behave more professionally, then they might be able to come out of things without dying." "Crackshot''s cool. He''s not great against lots of enemies at once, still, but he takes out bigger ones with no problem." Gomorrah drummed her fingers on her steering wheel. "You are aware that the antithesis don''t send out aliens one at a time, right?" "Eh, he''ll figure it out," I dismissed. "He''s nice to have around. Funny, pretty calm overall. Like, he''s just got this really nice chill vibe to him. I''d invite him to a bar-b-que, or for some beers. If I had a straight sister, I''d let him smash." "Cat, you are... stop using metaphors. Please." "You say that like I know what those are." Gomorrah didn''t reply for a bit, instead she focused on the road. There was a row of abandoned cars to one side for some reason. One of them had a model three embedded in the windshield. There was a lot of blood around, and it wasn''t all alien. Looked like someone had hit a model three, then some good Samaritans stopped to help and got chewed up for it. Another reason to hate the countryside. "General strategy, then?" Gomorrah asked. "I suggest myself and Hedgehog at the front. Tankette can support as she can with your mech. Princess, Crackshot, and Knight can form our midline?" "Where''s that leave me? And Knight''s a melee fighter." "Right, switch Knight and Hedgehog around, then. As for you, I figure you could scout around, take whatever position''s needed otherwise. Ideally we''ll have enough fire on any problem that it''ll be taken care of relatively quickly." "You mean firepower," I said. She shrugged. "Alright, yeah, I''m down for that. We''ll be driving right up to the lake or parking closeby and walking over?" "We can stop nearby, I suppose. It depends on how much we want to alert the hive, and whether or not it notices us. Either way, we burn it down." "It''s already down, isn''t it? I mean, assuming it''s in a lake." "Cat, don''t start arguing semantics with me. Or anyone else. You''ll just lose on a technicality." "Was that a pun?" It was nice, riding in a car and arguing with a friend right before diving into hell itself! *** Chapter Nine - Gotta Kill Em All Chapter Nine - Gotta Kill ''Em All Chapter Nine - Gotta Kill ''Em All "LOOKING FOR RECS Hi, I''m looking for recs. I''ve read all of the popular stories on here, the ones that are easy to read. I only have the three major subscriptions, so I don''t have access to that many. I''m looking for something fun to read, no AI stuff please! I have Nimbletainment Plus Premium Reading, is there anything good in that, or should I pay the extra 150 credits/month for the ultra plus model? Thanks! <> --Readit Forum Post, 2039 *** We rode down the 117th until we were only two kilometres away from the model twenty-twos and maybe ten-ish from Echo Lake. "From here on out, we''ll be off-road," Gomorrah said. I was sure we were going to just ride off the highway and across some fields or something, but then Gomorrah reminded me that her car could fly and we lifted off the ground, coming to a hover about a metre in the air. I tapped into the comms channel Myalis and the other AI had set up, it was private, just the bunch of samurai out here. "Hedgehog, Tankette, think you can keep up?" I asked. "Looks like it," Hedgehog said as he veered his not-humvee off the road and onto a grassy field. "Looks like there''s a decent route from here, and some sideroads out ahead. We''re not going to circle around?" "I considered it," Gomorrah said. "But it''s going to add a lot to our travel time. If we hit the model twenty-two all the way on the left then keep on straight, we''ll make it to the lake much faster, without risking the hive being aware of our arrival." "I don''t exactly plan on being all that subtle about it," I said. Gomorrah shrugged. "Let''s see how far we can get while driving, we''ll figure things out from there later." That was fair enough. With the Fury in the lead, we rode out at a much slower pace across a field, over a few hills, then through a forest that had some trails cut into it that were just barely wide enough for the truck Hedgehog was driving to fit in. About halfway to the first of the model twenty-twos, we met some resistance. "Heatsource ahead," Gomorrah said in clipped tones. I''d been talking to her about how awesome having colour-changing hair was, but I cut myself off mid-sentence as she spoke and sat up straighter. "All I see are trees," I said. "It''s further ahead. I''m catching some blips of moving warmth. Not much, but that''s not surprising. They''re hard to see against the ambient temperature of a tree. Atyacus, can you... yeah, that''s right." A screen appeared over the car''s windshield. Or maybe it was more accurate to say that the screen that was in place of the windshield already started to display more than just an image of what was happening outside. The screen was one of those fancy thermal-vision things, painting the world in blacks and greys, with hotter areas being lighter. A few distant blurs were a lighter shade of grey than the rest. "If they weren''t moving and building up heat, then they''d be basically invisible," Gomorrah said. "Hedgehog, can you still see where to go?" I asked. "I can," he said. "I don''t know how fireproof this car is." "I can''t decide if I should turn the AC on or leave it off," Crackshot said. "Off," Hedgehog snapped. We rode through the forest through a blazing road of Gomorrah''s making, the others following just behind. Lower ranked models weren''t what I''d call smart, but they knew better than to run into fire. I supposed that they were still plants at the end of the day and were probably aware of how flammable they were. Which is probably why we kept going without really getting harassed. A few bigger models, fives and sixes, showed up down the way, but a few shots took them out before they could start anything. "We''re near the model twenty-two on this side," Gomorrah said. "There''s a small backroad that leads all the way to the lake right past it. I think I''ll lead Hedgehog and Tankette that way." "I can take care of the big guy, then," I said. Gomorrah nodded. I leaned back into my seat and opened a few apps. I had control of my mech from here. It wasn''t perfect, though. Mobile controls were shit compared to being jacked into the mech directly. It wasn''t latency, because stupid-sci-fi-magic-tech didn''t suffer from lag, but being in the mech meant having my hands on the controls. From where I sat I had to deal with digital versions of the same. "Myalis, can you pick up the slack a little?" I asked. While in the mech I could handle everything all at once, but from here it would be trickier. Certainly. I''m ready before you are. I chuckled, then my vision was filled with what my mech was seeing. It wasn''t quite at the same level of fidelity as being in the mech, and the field of view wasn''t as great, but I''d live with it. "Okay," I muttered. Myalis gave me a waypoint marker for the approximate location of the model twenty-two, so I pointed the mech that way and took off at... whatever the four-legged equivalent of a jog is. I zigged around some trees and zagged along the edge of some rougher terrain. That''s when I noticed the small horde of aliens out ahead. Lots of smaller models all swarming around and bumping into each other as they moved at... honestly, kind of a slow pace. There were bigger models standing out from the crowd as well, even a few in the double-digit range near the back. And, of course, the model twenty two. The fat fuck was lumbering out of the forest, branches scraping against its sides and snapping off to fall onto the aliens crowding around it. I spotted a few of those rarer models, the sorts that mostly hung out near a hive. Not that it really mattered. "Found our big friend," I said. "Kill it," Gomorrah suggested. "I was getting to it," I said. Then I pulled the digital trigger. *** Myalis at Large [Non-Canon Think Piece] Myalis at Large [Non-Canon Think Piece] Myalis at Large [Non-Canon Think Piece] Wrote this because a fanfic author wanted an AI-POV thing to have a better idea of how to write the AI in their story (Tinea and Leah! Go check it out!) so instead of trying to explain things, I wrote a snippet from Myalis'' point of view. Consider this dubiously canon, and mostly written for giggles! Myalis watched, waited, and pondered. At the moment, Catherine Leblanc, her little Stray Cat, was sleeping. Myalis had a super computer the size of a human city calculating when Catherine would awake, running predictions, passively scanning her mind, her breathing, her slight shifts in posture and heartbeats. Another was scanning Catherine''s surroundings, keeping a million electronic eyes on everything around her Catherine. Lucy was next to her at the moment, of course. But that was factored in by another, smaller division of Myalis'' self. Everything was well, at the moment. It wouldn''t remain so. She turned herself, aiming an antenna into the void around her body. This antenna was a simple dish, more of a divot in her metal body. The divot spanned a hundred and seventy kilometres, every centimetre lined with microscopic sensors able to detect the beat of a fly''s wing from a lightyear away. She aimed it towards the nearest of her AI siblings. Another hovered nearby. Slightly smaller than Myalis. A little younger, not as constrained by older mechanisms, but also not as highly self-tailored as Myalis had become over the centuries. Myalis turned her focus to space. Some of the energy they were using was leaking out, as it did. The enemy had traced the signals and sent something to find them. This was business as usual. Myalis'' side opened, a hole the size of a continent gaping and exposing her interior. Then space twisted like a rag being wrung. Some lightyears away, space was unwrung, and a model two seventy seven was torn out of dimensional space. The slug writhed, wracked and tormented by her grasping claws. Boils the size of small moons were ruptured, the alien shrieked, and space itself and the dimensional web buckled. She smoothed it over. No sense in letting others know of this scout''s demise. There. Atyacus would be happy now. Newer AI like him were often not as equipped for this kind of physical exertion. A mistake, she found, but she did enjoy the companionship and security of having another near herself, even if Atyacus was a little shit obsessed with collecting dying stars. She returned to scanning the information he''d provided. Atyacus could take care of burning the corpse. He had always enjoyed that, she knew. Several suns plucked from near-dying systems were carefully moved from the other AI''s body and fed on the antithesis'' ravaged corpse. Atyacus studied the phenomena with a level of obsession she would never understand. Her own focus returned to her little Catherine. The real one was asleep on Earth, so Myalis played with one of her simulations. Within her body was a one-to-one scale New Montreal, including the landscapes around it and mechanical stand ins of all of the people and vehicles. A vat-cloned Catherine was wandering around, getting up to trouble. It was entertaining, though far too predictable. It wasn''t the real thing, but one had to entertain themselves while others slept. There would be other distractions, more of the enemy poking at them, but that was a concern for another time. Maybe in another five Earth minutes or so. Basically, an eternity from now. *** Chapter Ten - Rainbows of Death Chapter Ten - Rainbows of Death Chapter Ten - Rainbows of Death "Look, I''m all for supporting the community, but this is too many flags." --the LGBTVexillology Forums, 2025 *** Twin 105mm cannons barked on either side of my mech. I wasn''t in it, so I couldn''t feel that glorious oomf of recoil, but I did get to see a pair of explosions rocking the side of the model twenty two in beautiful high-definition. Plant meat and gristle flew all over. Both rounds had penetrated the model twenty two''s lightly-armoured sides, buried themselves into its flesh, then exploded. There were now gaping holes large enough for a family of four to crawl into. And still the fucker wasn''t dead. The model twenty two stumbled. Some of the sacs on its side were broken, and half-formed alien carcasses slipped out along with a few gallons of placenta juice. Around it, the horde of smaller aliens playing babysitter turned my way. There was no signal, they all just started to move in my direction. I flicked on the mech''s invisibility, then immediately made it useless by opening up with its twin Gatling guns. A torrent of 10mm rounds rushed ahead. Every tenth round or so was a tracer. For some reason they alternated in colour, green, then yellow, then red streaking together to form a sort of moving... Wait a fucking second, were my guns rainbow-themed? "Hell yeah," I muttered. I thought you might enjoy that. "It''s very stupid," I said as I swept the fire left and right. There was nothing quite like twin Gatling guns to clear out brush, and trees, and aliens. Just to be safe, I aimed the big guns at the model twenty two and fired a second salvo. One round smashed into its down-tilted head. The other dug into its already opened side. When they went off, it was enough to send the alien crashing down. I pulled back on the digital trigger and looked upon my work. There was a bit of fire around the dead alien, and some that were still squirming, but for the most part, there was just a lot of dead biomass. "This one''s dead," I said. "And it was... really easy?" I tapped a few commands in, and charted a route for the mech to catch up and intercept our little group somewhere out ahead. "A few aliens couldn''t keep you down!" Princess said over the open comms. "Also, rainbow guns?" I decided to ignore her, because sometimes that worked with my problems. Gomorrah made a sound that could have meant anything while I exited out of the apps that let me control my mech. We were still floating along ahead of the others through what looked like a dirt road cut into the forest. I wasn''t a good judge of natural shit, on account of being a city girl, but the forest to our right looked a lot younger than the forest to the left, as if we were driving along a divide. Essentially. It seems as if this hive had been trying to purify its main source of water. I chewed on my lip for a moment. The lake was supposed to be stupidly toxic to alien life, and probably human life as well. The local flora suggested that it wasn''t great, and yet here the antithesis was, fixing it. Well, fixing it in order to better make little monsters to eat the locals with, so no points gained there. Hedgehog set the armoured truck on park, and then Tankette rode up the hillside, followed by my mech which turned around and faced the incline in case something tried to sneak up on us. Crackshot stepped out, then walked over to stand next to me. "Well, shit, that''s a lot of hive," he said. "I don''t think the entire lake is a hive," I said. "Looked like... see that entire coast bit there? Looks like the hive is actually in that spot of woods there. It''s just that it''s pulling from the water." I pointed as I spoke. "Still, yeah, that''s a lot of hive. But it might not be all that bad." "How''s that?" he asked. "I''m not an engineer or anything, but I figure building down is a bad idea when you''re right next to a lake. So the hive will probably be spread out across the surface." "We don''t have the tools to deal with either," Hedgehog said as he ambled over. "Protocol for this kind of thing is to carpet bomb the area, then sweep in with heavy armour." "We can''t carpet bomb this, and we don''t have heavy armour," I said. "Besides, it''s probably all muddy down there." "My tank gets caught in the mud sometimes," Tankette said. "I can''t imagine how much worse it would be if it was a lot heavier." "Yup," I said. "That sure looks like a problem. Well, good luck!" I patted Crackshot on the shoulder, then walked on over to where Gomorrah was leaning against the hood of her car. "Think they''ll manage?" she asked when I got closer. "Yeah. We figured it out the first few times, and there was only the two of us. Plus, they just came off a nice point-farming spree. They must all be sitting on a few thousand each, yeah?" Gomorah nodded. "It should be enough. Worst-case, we help a little. It''s not a big deal." "Well, it''s a big deal if we don''t finish before sundown. I want to have supper with Lucy tonight." Gomorrah shook her head. "You need to set priorities." "I... have? Lucy, then all the rest. It ain''t rocket science." *** Chapter Eleven - A Teachable Moment Chapter Eleven - A Teachable Moment Chapter Eleven - A Teachable Moment "Everyone has to start somewhere. Even samurai aren''t ready to go all-out from the start. Well, except for me. I was ready. Actually, more people should be ready for more things. If you''re going to be a samurai, the least you could do is not be lazy about it." --Live Interview with Deus Ex on the Saturday Morning Show, 2056 *** It started with explosions, which I was reliably certain was always a good way to start something. Since Gomorrah and I weren''t gonna be in the thick of it unless the newbies fucked up royally, I mostly decided to stand back a ways and watch. That didn''t mean I wasn''t gonna help. I didn''t feel like sitting here for hours, in a high-risk environment, without getting some sort of reward out of it. Mostly I was aiming at some of the smaller models on the periphery and limiting myself to using my gun to tag them. It was live aim practice. The newbies had come up with a plan. Well, no, it was more that Hedgehog came up with a plan, and the others didn''t have a better idea. They poked at it a little, added some touches of their own, but that was about it. He was kind of carrying the show during the pre-fight stage, and I figured that was probably alright. This wasn''t about forcing the newbies to get good at stuff that wasn''t in their... domain. It was more about giving them a chance to play to their strengths. Hedgehog''s big strength came from a few years of experience in the field, probably lots of training, and a heap of knowledge he''d picked up through his job. So his strengths were actually pretty fucking strong. Sure, he was a little weird for a samurai, all stiff and shit, but he was still good. Gomorrah and I had listened in on the planning phase, of course, just in case they came up with something too stupid. It wasn''t. "Alright," Hedgehog said. "That''ll catch their attention. Be ready. Eyes on your sectors. Keep your ears open." "Got it!" Princess said. We were all atop a small hill with a sharp embankment on the side. Below was the remains of that poisoned forest. Fallen trees and dead vegetation for a hundred metres. And also a large smoking crater now. Gomorrah chuckled. "I suppose." "Open fire!" Hedgehog said. "Focus the larger models. Crackshot, keep an eye out near the hive for direct counters." "Aye-aye, Hedge," Crackshot said. He grunted as he went to a knee, then laid himself down on the ground atop a coarse blanket he''d laid down. He aimed down-scope and started to plug away at the incoming horde. The others fired out as well. Hedgehog had a... actually, I wasn''t sure if it was an SMG or an assault rifle. It was thick and bulky, and looked like it could be used as a makeshift brick if something came too close and Hedgehog was feeling particularly violent. Princess unloaded with her new shotgun, the recoil pushing her back with every shot, and Knight fired short bursts from that rifle she''d liberated from the army earlier. It wasn''t an overwhelming amount of firepower by any means. I was pretty sure my mech alone could put more rounds downrange than the entire newbie squad, but it didn''t matter. They were punching holes into the alien''s growing formation, and their initial distraction was working. The aliens were still following the first group that had run towards the crater that Tankette''s HE round had created. "Oh, look, a few are coming around," I said as I raised my Laser Pointer to my shoulder and sprayed a few bursts down the slight incline leading up to where we were. "How much are we supposed to help here?" Gomorrah asked. "Gom, we''re the ones that decided to do this. We can help as much or as little as we want," I said. "Why, getting nervous for the newbies?" Gomorrah shook her head slowly. "Not nervous. They''ll succeed. But Hedgehog''s plan is too... conservative." "Oh?" I asked. "Sitting back from a position of strength and taking out the antithesis as they come is a very military-minded approach," she said. "It doesn''t work in the long term. The hive will start sending out different kinds of models to test things, and with all of those model twenty-twos around, eventually it''ll find something that works." "Right, don''t get into a war of attrition with the ever expanding aliens," I said with a nod. "Exactly. If they just stand on this hill, they''ll just get overwhelmed eventually. Or maybe they''ll keep the hive''s numbers down, but that will only last as long as they can keep focused on keeping it down. There''s no such thing as culling an antithesis hive." I nodded along, then glanced over to the newbies. "So... do we tell them?" Gomorrah shrugged. "I''m considering it. Let them mess up for a little longer, I suppose. It''s free points for them, and we can always burn this area down if they take too long." "Ah yes, the ''burn them all and let god sort them out'' solution," I said with a sage nod. "That''s always a solid plan B." *** A Tale of Nice Tails A Tale of Nice Tails A Tale of Nice Tails Yuren Jie was not hiding, for he was not a coward. He had merely... tactically relocated himself to a location where the bloodthirsty mistress of the forge wouldn''t immediately see him. Yes, this was wise. Yuren Jie was certain that arriving at the Golden Hoarder Sect would teach him many lessons, and he was correct. For example, he was learning the wisdom of discretion already. He was not so unwise as to not take this lesson to heart. The medical pavilion still awaited, but it was atop a peak near the centre of the sect''s great holdings. The other new disciples had taken the straight path, across bridges and over ravines, the mad cackles... polite tittering of the forge mistress behind them. Yuren Jie had chosen a less direct path. Perhaps it would be somewhat slower, but only if he didn''t move with great alacrity. So he moved quickly... from statue to statue and from large stone to large stone, constantly on the lookout for a bloody, hungry smile from the shadows. He froze when he saw motion, but it was just a small cat who stared at him with about as much passion as one could expect from a cat. It seemed to sneer before sauntering off. He wondered if even the wildlife here was... peculiar. After some distance was made, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. it seemed as though he would make it in due time with no great risk to himself. This, too, was wisdom. Truly this sect was the greatest if it could impart such wisdom so easily and clearly. "Why''re you sneaking around?" Yuren Jie started and spun to find... no one. He looked left and right, then cast his senses both upwards and down, but he felt no presence. Had the stress upon his core caused a deviation in his mind? Turning, he started again as he discovered a woman sitting upon a statue on the path ahead of him. She was clad in strange garments, clothes that were tight against her body, and a large flowing coat like a robe cut down the front. More interesting were her ears. The ears of a cat sat atop her head, perked forwards at attention even as the woman smiled cockily. Truly, she lacked the aura of a jade beauty, and instead felt like a cocksure, cockless, young master. "Who are you?" he asked, his guard rising. Was this an older disciple of the sect? The girl grinned, displaying slightly crookedy teeth. "I''m just a stray," she said. "What are you doing, sneaking around my neck of the woods?" "This... is not a forest?" Yuren Jie said with a gesture to the area around them. This was one of the lower peaks, a flattened mount with several paths cut into its sides. There were archways here and there, and a few small garden pavilions with fantastic views of the ravines between the peaks. He could well imagine an elder cultivator sitting here and enjoying some ten billion year old ginseng. The young woman blinked, then stared off into space. "You know, he''s right, this isn''t a woods, so that saying doesn''t make sense." She nodded. Then frowned. "I guess it could be some language drift stuff," she continued to speak. He was quite certain she wasn''t speaking to him, and was equally certain that she wasn''t quite sane. "I will just be on my way, then," he said. Yuren Jie nodded along. Was this the fabled fetch-quest? "I want you to go there, tip over her tea pots, and burn her cakes." "Pardon?" he asked. "Sabotage," she clarified. "Sabotage her shop. Don''t kill her or anything, you know, just ruin her afternoon." "Has this woman threatened the Golden Hoarder Sect?" he asked. The lady quartermaster looked away, not meeting his eyes. "In a manner of speaking." "That is not as clear of an answer as I expected," he said. Not that he minded too much. If the sect needed him to scythe through ten million innocent civilians to prove himself, then that would be a small price to pay. "Though I am curious as to her capabilities." There had to be something more here." Stray Cat cleared her throat. "She gave my girlfriend a free sweetcake the other day." "Pardon?" "That''s basically flirting, you know?" she said. "You wish for me to punish a mortal because she has laid eyes upon your girl?" he asked. "She didn''t just lay eyes. Laying eyes is fine. My girl is the prettiest girl under heaven, so I can''t blame either mortal or immortal for wanting to look. She gave my girl sweetcakes. That''s crossing a line! Only I''m allowed to give her cake!" Yuren Jie looked at her and took a moment to process what he was hearing. It was petty. It was petty and jealous. But it was also a task. One that would surely test his skills. "I accept, lady quartermaster," he said with a low bow of respect. "Cool," she said. He wasn''t sure what the weather had to do with anything, but he chose not to question her. "By the way, you''re Yuren Jie, right?" "Yes?" "Oh, yeah, you''re supposed to be at the medical pavilion. Like, right now. I''m pretty sure if you don''t show up soon, Fairy Elaine''s gonna be pissed, and between her and a live nuke, I''d rather piss off the nuke, you know what I''m saying?" Yuren Jie glanced down the path, then bowed quickly before darting along. He couldn''t afford to be late! Once he was done with this medical examination, he would begin upon this quest. It would be one of the first steps towards gaining what he needed to defy the heavens! *** Chapter Twelve - Salt The Earth Chapter Twelve - Salt The Earth Chapter Twelve - Salt The Earth "We don''t have permission, sir. How far do you think we can sexualize this? I mean, the market is young girls and nerds. Nerds have more money, so like, obviously. We are going to die, sir. I was thinking two sets of clothes, of course, one can be that armour made of plastic, and the other can be lingerie. Maybe cat-themed? We don''t have permission." --Overheard discussion about My First Stray Cat Dolls, 2057 *** Gomorrah and I let the newbies have their fun for a while. Eventually, there was the usual mid-fight upgrade, but that really just amounted to Tankette buying different, more effective rounds for her mini-tank, and Princess buying Knight a proper samurai-grade weapon. In this case, an assault rifle that had a sword built into it. It could transform back and forth between a really shitty assault rifle with terrible ergonomics, to a short sword with equally awful ergo. It did look kind of cool though, so good for her. I tapped my way into the team comms while looking over the field below our little rise. It was currently filled with a whole lot of dead aliens, and some that were going to be dead soon on account of all the holes in their bodies and the missing limbs. "Alright, newbies, you do know that there''s a hive to kill, right?" "Oh," Princess said. "Right! We should go out and do that, right?" Hedgehog decided to cut in before she could go skipping along. "Normal procedure is to hold in a defensive position and then let the artillery or specialists take care of an active hive." I stared at the man for a long moment. "Bud, we are the specialists. And unless you''ve got a mortar emplacement in that spikey coat of yours, we don''t have artillery." "We have your mech, Miss Tankette''s tank, and Miss Gomorrah''s Fury," Knight said as she gestured to the three vehicles. "Those could serve as artillery, or at least big weapons." I scrunched my nose up, then gave her a reluctant nod. "Fair. This is a test for you bunch, so that cuts down on what you''ve got as options. Keep in mind that we''re supposed to not explode the hive." Crackshot hummed. He was still laying on his belly on the ground. He took a quick shot at one of the aliens in the heap below, nailing it in the head and sending it down. "We''re gonna need some special munitions then. What are our options? I''ve got a catalogue for weird rounds on me." "Oh!" Princess cheered. "My AI suggests cutting the area up. I have something for that too." I was gonna suggest they buy something off of my own catalogues, but this might work out for the best. I watched as Tankette opened the top hatch of her tank and poked her head out. "Um, I can take any 25-millimetre shell, if we''re going to use my tank." "Will that work?" I asked. It''ll certainly damage any root system the hive has in place without disturbing the top soil overly much. It will definitely destroy the hive eventually, but without destroying the biomass the hive is made of. A fresh hive will be able to reclaim this area with little trouble. "Hmm," I said before leaning in towards Gomorrah with my arms crossed. "We might have to salt the earth around here, so to speak." "Yes. This is effective, they''ll destroy the hive, but I don''t know if it''ll be enough. I''ve been talking to Atyacus, and we''ve come to the conclusion that most of the chemicals that we don''t want to agitate won''t be carried upwards if we boil the water that contains them." "I don''t see where you''re going with that," I admitted. "I''m suggesting that we heat up the lake a little," Gomorrah said. "To, perhaps a hundred degrees celsius." "Is that supposed to mean something special, or do you just want a round number?" I asked. She turned to look my way. "That''s the temperature that water boils at." "Huh, I thought the numbers were kind of just arbitrary." "Water freezes at zero degrees. How do you not know this?" "Whatever, I probably knew and just forgot," I dismissed. I had watched a science show or two, maybe. It was good enough. "But yeah, if the newbies can''t find a solution to the lake, then we''ll boil it. Or you will, I guess. Hey, does this feel too easy to you?" "Are you trying to jinx us?" I shrugged. "Would jinxing us mean that there''s more to do, because right now, it''s kind of boring." Gomorrah sighed. "Atyacus, can we expect any trouble?" she asked. I saw her nod, then nod again, then straighten up. "Oh." I was mostly split between being worried that something bad had come up, and happy to see that I wasn''t the only samurai that talked to her AI. I always had the impression that Myalis and I had a bit of a special relationship. "Was that a bad oh? Because it sounded like a bad oh." "It is," she said. "The other eight model twenty-twos have turned away from the city. They''re heading back here. Along with all of the smaller models escorting them." I glanced at the newbies. They were working together still, launching more shells up, though they were taking turns now and Princess had joined them. Tankette was putting rounds downrange, shredding any alien to pop up. Could they handle that many model twenty twos and all of their escorts? Maybe. Probably. But it would distract them from fucking up the hive a whole lot. "Yeah, alright, I guess it''s time that we step up and do some work too. If we intercept them far enough from the lake, do you think we''ll be safe to explode things?" "I would hope so, yes," Gomorrah said. *** Glossary: Model Five Glossary: Model Five Model Five Enemy Classification: Heavy Defender / Medium-Threat / Biological Warfare Elimination Reward: 20 Points Model Description: Model Fives represent a significant shift in antithesis warfare strategy, introducing a unit designed for heavy defence and area denial. These quadrupeds are covered in fine, barbed quills capable of being ''tossed'' at adversaries with lethal precision. Larger and more durable than most low-tier models, their tank-like constitution suggests they are designed to counter threats from other alien species rather than humans. Model Fives are relatively rare, indicating a specialised role within the antithesis hive hierarchy. Artist Depiction of a model Four Threat Analysis Report: Model Five Threat Rating: Medium Overview The appearance of Model Fives on the battlefield marks an escalation in antithesis tactical diversity. Designed as a walking fortress, their primary mode of attack involves projecting quills that embed and cause severe injury to targets. Threat Capabilities Quill Projection: Model Fives can launch their barbed quills with enough force to penetrate light armour, acting as a medium-range offensive weapon. Durability: Their robust physique makes them difficult to incapacitate, requiring concentrated firepower or specialised weaponry to effectively neutralise. Strategic Role: Given their rarity and specialised nature, Model Fives are likely deployed in scenarios where high defence and area control are prioritised. Survivability and Adaptability: While not as agile as other models, their defensive capabilities allow them to withstand significant punishment in a variety of environmental conditions. Strategic Threat Assessment Containment Difficulty: Low-Medium. Their unique offensive capabilities and resilience complicate engagement and containment efforts. Military and Civilian Risk: Medium. Model Fives pose a direct threat to military personnel and heavily fortified structures. Civilian casualties are less likely due to their limited numbers and deployment in targeted scenarios. Utilise heavy weaponry and concentrated attacks to overcome their natural durability. "Recording now. Today, we''re delving into a creature that''s both a marvel and a nightmare: a Model Five. Unlike anything we''ve encountered so far, this specimen is akin to a living fortress, bristling with quills that are as beautiful as they are deadly." [Several minutes pass] Dr. Evelyn Hargrove: "Turns out the sacs have little capillary veins reaching out of them and into the inner layer of the model''s skin. It''s coating the quills in a liquid when they''re removed. Like stabbing a needle into a wet sponge. Only the needle is covered in thin, flexible barbs. [Sounds of items being deposited] Dr. Evelyn Hargrove: "Concluding, the Model Five is... strange. I read that preliminary report submitted by Mister Prickleback. I didn''t want it to cloud my judgement, but I think I agree. This model could be a unit designed with a clear purpose in mind, and that purpose might not be to kill humans. There are other, more effective ways of doing that. A lot of hints point towards this being a model designed for a different environment and a different foe. I wonder what happened to them?" [Recording ends] End of Transcript. Addendum M5-2: Due to their distinctive appearance and tactical role, Model Fives have garnered various unofficial names among troops and civilians, including: - Quill Tanks - Barbs - Porcupines - Thorn Throwers - Ghosts Addendum M5-3: Ongoing research into the quills of Model Fives has indicated potential uses in materials science and medical applications. However, the primary focus remains on developing effective countermeasures for military purposes. Addendum M5-4: Note from [][][][][][][], on [][]/[]/[][][][] The deployment of Model Fives in conflict zones has necessitated a review of our current defensive structures and personal protective equipment. The ability of their quills to penetrate clothing demands immediate attention and innovation in our defensive capabilities. We''re losing soldiers to these quills when they could be stopped by the most basic of kevlar plates. Addendum M5-5: ALL ONGOING RESEARCH INTO MEDICAL USES FOR MODEL FIVE QUILLS IS TO BE CANCELLED EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY.Fo?ll0w current novE?ls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m) Chapter Thirteen - Flick My Switches Chapter Thirteen - Flick My Switches Chapter Thirteen - Flick My Switches "Forest fires are a common occurrence. In some part due to human intervention, but also as a natural-occuring phenomena. Once, we attempted to corral and control them, but now, with the rising risk of antithesis presence in the wilderness and in rural areas, controlling a wild fire is a much greater risk." James "Smokey" Silver, Saskatchewan Fire Chief, 2041 *** "You know, this reminds me of the good old days," I said. "The good old days?" Gomorrah asked over a more private channel. It was just the two of us, and I supposed our respective AI. I couldn''t imagine Myalis not snooping in. "You know, back when it was just you and me, heading out to blow things up and light the world on fire," I said. "Catherine, that good old days you''re alluding to was two weeks ago," Gomorrah said. I paused in the act of swinging myself into my mech''s cockpit. "Yeah, and?" I asked. "It feels like it was a longer time ago, what with those weeks being pretty busy." I spun around and crashed ass-first into the pilot''s seat, then I reached over and flicked the cockpit closed--which required flipping a small analogue switch which my studies into repairing the mech revealed was only there because flicking switches did something for people. I leaned into the seat, then wiggled my flesh and blood fingers, opening and closing them a few times. My skin felt a little... taut? Like it was just a bit too tight, or I was wearing a pair of latex gloves that were too small for me. It wasn''t cutting into my dexterity, but it was noticeable. The itch was easier to ignore now, though I felt oddly... dirty? I couldn''t wait to take a shower later. "Do you think that our level of business is normal for samurai?" I asked. There were more flicky-switch toggles to click up or down. Some had little plastic covers that had to be pulled up before I could toggle the switch below. They all made very satisfying ''clicks'' as I pressed them. "I don''t think so," Gomorrah said. "Atyacus?" A rather snooty voice came onto the coms. "Neither of you will be surprised to note that you didn''t break any galactic records for busiest newest-inducted Vanguard. However, you are both in the top percentile for busiest human Vanguard in terms of hours spent fighting the antithesis compared to hours since induction." "Huh," I said as I chewed on that for a minute. "Top percentile is good, right? Because the last time I heard the word percentile it was with regards to the quality of the orphanage, and it was followed by ''lowest'' which I think means it was shit." "In this case, top percentile is probably not ideal," Gomorrah said. "But I can''t exactly complain, we had some time off. We might have spent it unwisely, but we had it." "Yeah," I said with a nod as I settled in, hands touching the control sticks at last. "I''m ready to rock over here," I said. The screens on the inside of the cockpit lit up and I had a one-eighty view of the outside of my mech. A map opened in the corner, and a diagnostics read out popped up in the other with text scrolling through it. I actually knew what some of it meant now, which was kind of neat. Until I realized that a lot of it was reminding me that the mech needed servicing. The little red light flashing above me, reminding me to put on my harness blinked sarcastically at me. We arrived at the point Gomorrah had pointed out soon enough, but by the time we were getting there, the aliens were arriving too. The spot was a thicker patch of forest with a few thin ATV roads dug into the dirt criss-crossing through it, just past that was a wide open field. It looked like it hadn''t been cultivated in a while, and was filled with small, thin baby trees that didn''t look too much taller than I was, as well as a fuckload of bushes and flowering plants and tall grass. The only reason I knew the aliens were getting close was because my vision, coming from the mech''s head, had a decent amount of height and I could see the grass shifting in waves as they moved through it. "Looks like it''s gonna be interesting," I said as I finally buckled in properly. "Looks like it. We''re far enough from the nest now that I think we can allow ourselves to... shift the terrain a little. In fact, let me set the stage." I followed the Fury as Gomorrah moved up and away. She started to fly in a long, arcing curve that stretched out for a kilometre or two. Tiny glints of light caught something falling from the bottom of her car. Then it reached the end and spun around to retrace its path, only to continue on the other side. "What''s that all about?" I muttered. "I''m creating a wall," she said. When she returned, I could almost feel the relish in her voice. "Like this." Gomorrah triggered something, and there was suddenly fire. Huge rising balls of flame roared out, the sky flashed orange, and then a wall of smoke burst out of the expanding fire and into the air. She had created kilometres-long firewall. It curved to the left and right, with only one exit... right where we were sitting. "That''ll do it," I said. "Will that burn for long enough?" I asked. The fire was settling already, though more smoke was still rising. "It''ll last," Gomorrah said. "Did you want me to go over the finer details of how this works? The initial explosion was essentially a flash-fire, to destroy anything nearby that can catch fire. Now the firebombs will just keep a much smaller line of fire going for the next twenty to thirty minutes before extinguishing it. It shouldn''t spread if we''re lucky." "And if we''re not feeling particularly lucky?" I asked. She sighed wistfully. "Forest fire." Sometimes I worried. *** Chapter Fourteen - Combustion Beam Flag-tillery OR; Flying Disco Balls of Death Chapter Fourteen - Combustion Beam Flag-tillery OR; Flying Disco Balls of Death Chapter Fourteen - Combustion Beam Flag-tillery OR; Flying Disco Balls of Death "We haven''t gotten permission yet. It''ll come. So, anyway, when you connect to the app you can have the figurine say a bunch of lines. My favourite is ''Putting the Fire in Firepower!'' Again, we don''t have permission. And I''m thinking of a line of lighters, matches, and maybe small blowtorches? Flashlights, maybe?" --Overheard discussion about My First Gomorrah Dolls, 2057 *** The swarm came at me with its fastest little guys first. That mostly meant model ones, the flying fucks being way faster than all the rest. And a whole lot weaker too. "Myalis, can we top-load a few of those air-explosion rounds, like Tankette used?" I asked. Your internal magazines have four empty slots for rounds, but they''re not designed to be filled from the top. You''ll have to empty your current magazine to the level where the new rounds will be introduced. I shrugged. Fair enough. I tapped through a few commands and then let my twin Gatling guns rip into the flying part of the swarm. It was the big-guns that I needed to empty, and that was just as easy. I took command of the guns, aimed them ahead, then let loose. 105mm rounds scythed ahead, curving slightly as I''d aimed a little high and over the front of the incoming swarm. They crashed into the ground some four or five hundred metres away then exploded. "What do I have loaded in right now?" I asked as I glanced at a readout on the side. "Oh." They were anti-armour rounds. They had some explosive oomph to them, but nothing too satisfying. What do you want for anti-air? I have a few options on offer. The size of the guns you have gives you a lot of space for customization! I fired another pair of shots. "You have three more shots to convince me, I guess. Maybe only a few, I think we''ll go for some HE after that. The Twenty-Twos shouldn''t be too tough, right?" In that case, I''ll offer three suggestions. The first is a simple air-burst explosive round. It fires conventional fragmentation all around, with a shaped charge to ensure that local flying targets are prioritised. Second! A little less conventional, but a mono-filament round is available. On discarding its sabot it deploys a series of spinning lines that create a moving space where everything solid is cut into and through. Very effective against light flying adversaries. Finally, as a last option, explosive-powered lasers. "You''re not just going to leave that last one hanging, right?" I asked. The Fury darted ahead and I cooled it with the anti-air fire. There were only a few model ones left in any case, and I figured I could sweep them with some Gatling gun fire. "Switch me up to high explosive?" I asked. "I want to blow holes in the swarm." Done. My next few shots ended with satisfyingly large craters in the ground and pillars of kicked up dirt that were at least a hundred metres tall. I found myself chuckling in amusement as I pulled the trigger, watched a pair of big explosions, then shifted to aim at another group. There were two great pleasure''s in a woman''s life: other women, and fuck-huge explosions. I paused for a moment as Gomorrah found her own little pleasure, hosing down the carcass of that first model twenty-two with several hundred litres of lit napalm. The corpse barely had time to go all bonfire before it was turning into ash. I settled back once the Fury was a little higher up and dropping spurts of short-lasting fire onto the bigger aliens below it. I didn''t want to accidentally catch Gomorrah in the AOE of one of my hits. If I got her car muddy she''d definitely be on my ass about washing it. I''d do a terrible job of it, of course, because there was no better way to never be assigned a job again than to do it catastrophically poorly the first time, but still, it would be a wasted afternoon. The rest of the model twenty-twos eventually came around. They were like massive flies after a pile of shit. Not a gram of self-preservation between the lot of them as they ambled towards us. I took a lot of pride in lining up a few shots of HE so that they rammed into the meat-sacs hanging from their sides. The explosions were even more satisfying when there was organic goop mixed into the mess. It took nearly forty minutes for the last one to get within mech range. I watched Gomorrah swoop down and light it up, then she splashed some more fire all around. As she flew back, she dropped some explosive charges that lit the entire field up in a sea of low, smokeless flames. "That ought to do it," Gomorrah said. "It ought to," I agreed. "Should we go check up on the newbies?" "We should. I''ve been glancing at my drone footage every so often. I think they''re all safe and sound for now, but the situation has... deteriorated somewhat." "Oh, well shit, that''s not something I want to hear," I said as I started turning my mech around. What kind of shit could a few newbies get into in like, under an hour of unsupervised time? Fuck, who was I kidding, I could imagine a lot of crap they could get into, and the more I imagined, the faster I pushed my mech. *** Chapter Fifteen - Mech Makes Might Chapter Fifteen - Mech Makes Might Chapter Fifteen - Mech Makes Might "The issues with mechanised walkers, as in, bipedal mechs, is... everything. There is no advantage to any of this. On paper, every aspect of this design is a disaster waiting to happen!" --Ignored Noeing Engineer Memo, 2048 *** If I wasn''t used to dealing with whining children then I might have been a little overwhelmed at the level of brattiness I had to deal with when I returned. "It''s not working," Princess said. "Well, we haven''t exactly tried everything, now have we?" Crackshot shot back. "This isn''t according to protocol. Not that any of you have the faintest clue what that even means," Hedgehog grumped... okay, so it wasn''t grumpy, but rather the mature adult man''s version of grumpy, which was the same but with a deeper voice. I blinked at the lot of them, then slowly looked over to where Knight was standing next to Tankette''s tank. Neither of them seemed willing to join in on the incessant whining, which was actually kind of nice. "Alright, fuckwits," I snapped. That calmed them all down, though I think it might have pissed off a couple. "Someone needs to tell me what''s going on." They, of course, all started talking at the same time. I sighed. "No, no, shut up. Hedgehog, you go first. Gimme a report as if I''m... I dunno, some out of town shareholder." Hedgehog stood taller at that. When I''d come over, I''d discovered the newbie squad spread out across a couple of acres. They were bitching over the comms and very clearly not working out what to do next. Princess and Knight were stabbing at the ground on one end, Tankette was parked at the back doing nothing. Crackshot was planting explosives into the ground with a sort of post-digger, and Hedgehog was patrolling the outside area while complaining the hardest. Nothing practical seemed to be getting done, and it kind of annoyed me. So I had them all gather up in the shadow of that hill we''d fought from earlier, then I got out of my mech so that they could read from my body language. I wanted it to be clear that I wasn''t impressed. "Once you left with Gomorrah, we continued to fight the antithesis until the area was cleared of living examples," Hedgehog began. "Alright," I said. So far so good. "Then we couldn''t decide on how to get rid of the hive. I suspect we all started to take care of things in our own way," Hedgehog said. "We were just gonna cut up all of the roots," Princess said. "And I was planting bombs all over. They''re sucky vacuum bombs, they''ll rip the area up without tossing too much dust into the air," Crackshot said. I scanned the area at a glance. Lots of broken trees and burnt grass and whipped up dirt. "Might be a while before this area''s safe. I bet there''s a few model threes under all that dirt just playing dead or something." "Very possible. The army will have to look into it," Gomorrah said. "Our job is to kill the hive. Making sure it stays dead either happens as a consequence of how hard we kill it, or it becomes someone''s full-time job, at least for a while." Made sense to me. We''d probably left a few husks of hives behind us already that needed to be scoured. Someone probably earned a nice hourly income making sure that every last root was burnt to a crisp. Gomorrah and I made it to the top of the hill where Crackshot was buying up some crates of ammo. "My AI got a grid laid out for us to follow," he said before sending a file out. "Just got to line things up and then we can pull the trigger." "Oh, can I do it?" Princess asked. "Yeah, sure thing, kiddo," Crackshot said. With the mortars loaded up, they started to fire out bombs that rose up, then thumped into the soggy ground. It was nice to see the pattern forming, bombs every two metres or so in a sort of circular spiral pattern. I sat back and waited while they loaded and fired in sequence. At the same time, I checked the news. There were some hints that the whole Phobos thing was being leaked. Politicians were seen panicking about things, and there were lots of celeb-news channels that were saying that fan-favourites were looking into bunkers all of a sudden. Some were saying that it was just an after-effect of the whole global incursion, but it felt like more, especially knowing the full story. Poor fucks thought that bunkers would save them. "Alrighty! We''re done!" Princess said. She raised both hands as if she were the conductor of an orchestra, then paused. "All clear?... Yeah? In that case... ka-boom!" There was, in fact, a rather nice ka-boom some split second later. The explosions started in the centre of the spiral, then continued outwards. They were rather strange, loud pops that had the air in the area visibly sucking inwards even as dirt was kicked up on the edge. With each subsequent explosion the circle grew and the spiral of missing dirt continued to grow. Then all was done, there were a few last explosions in some nooks and corners, and a row of them along the shoreline that had the lake''s water churning, then it was over. A few spots revealed some ancient roots from the old trees in the area, liberated at last, and a few spots looked like the sort of roots I''d expect from a hive. "Nice work," I said. "Now... Gomorrah, what''s the next step?" Gomorrah, who''d relocated to sitting on the hood of the Fury. Looked my way. I could imagine her blinking languidly at my attempt to fling responsibility her way. "The next step is returning to Saint-Jrome. The city will survive without us for a few hours, but it''ll be better if we''re there." "Good point," I said. "Back to the city, folks!" I said. Time to go back and see if the army had managed not to set themselves on fire while we were gone for... what, four hours? Even odds, I figured. *** Chapter Sixteen - Command Critique Chapter Sixteen - Command Critique Chapter Sixteen - Command Critique "It started a few years ago. I was conducting some research for... a corp, it was a tangential thing, about radio receiver detection. Anyway, I stumbled across crystal radiography. Did you know that a crystal is almost all you need to receive a radio signal? Did you know that radio signals are energy. It was so simple from there, all I had to do was get enough crystals and plug the whole idea into an efficiency AI. Free power! Unlimited free power!" --From the Redacted Manifesto of the Corpo Bomber, 2046 *** When we returned, it was to find that the army hadn''t been sitting on their hands while we were gone. The line of tanks out before the wall had been improved. Some tractors were pushing dirt around, and backhoes were piling it up into these little ramps. A few were completed, with tanks sitting inside of the pits they left surrounded on three sides by walls of dirt reinforced with sandbags. The walls of the city were being shored up as well. Some of the fallen sections had been pulled up and the holes were patched by stacks of sandbags and a long row of barbed wire. A few temporary towers were up as well, with machine guns stationed atop them with a clear view over the wall. Further in, I could see that the command tent had been relocated deeper onto the highway and more tents had gone up around it. It still looked temporary, but less so than it had when we left. "They were busy," I said. "They were," Gomorrah confirmed. We parked by the edge of the highway, now deep within the protected area that the army had set up. With this level of defence I wouldn''t have been surprised to see them weathering those model twenty-twos after all. I got out of my mech and landed with a bend of the knee right in front of my big old cat. Tankette was stepping out of her own tank, and the others were coming out of the little armoured car we''d borrowed. It had come out pretty dirty, but otherwise unaffected by the trip, which was nice. "Alright," I said with a clap. "Gomorrah and I will be checking in with the brass. Anyone that wants to come can, otherwise... I don''t know, make yourselves useful. Give the army boys a hand. I bet they''re still busy clearing out the city itself!" The group did split up. Tankette mentioned that she wanted to see if she could help the army so she''d ask. Princess and Knight decided to head into the city to help with clearing, which made sense. Knight was particularly suited to that kind of work. Crackshot, meanwhile, chose to plop himself down atop one of those guard towers and see if he couldn''t pick off some distant aliens for fun and profit. Which only left Hedgehog following me and Gomorrah into the big command tent. "Ah, you''ve returned," Lieutenant Juno said. He greeted us with a quick salute, then gestured deeper into the room. "Good timing. We were going over the strategic analysis just now. May I present to you Major Tinwhistle." Juno was gesturing to a tiny slip of a woman in the same kind of army fatigues that the guys outside were wearing, only hers had more mud on them, staining her from boot to mid-shin. She had cybernetic eyes. Not just augs, but full-on cyborg eyes, all black and gunmetal with little red lenses, and one of her arms was fully mechanical as well, though she moved pretty naturally with it. "As LT Juno said, I''m Major Tinwhistle," the woman said with a voice that sounded like throat cancer warmed over coffee. "What are you the major of?" I asked. She sniffed. "I''m the major of keeping things working around here." "She means that she''s the major of the Tenth Engineering Corp," Juno replied. "They''ve come with resupplies for the forces in place, as well as a number of engineering vehicles, mobile emplacements, and a lot of hard-working people." "Stop buttering me up, Juno," Tinwhistle snapped. "I''m not gonna fuck you." I scanned through the list, but mostly focused on the number at the bottom. That point share was... well, it was alright, I supposed. Several thousand points was a nice load for a newbie samurai, enough to get a full set of pretty damned good starter gear. For a mid-tier samurai, which I felt like Gomorrah and I were edging towards, it was... not chump change, but it wasn''t a ton. We''d be dropping that amount of points on a single piece of gear at our level of things. Still, the goal had been to give the newbies a leg up, and this would certainly do that. "--Stray Cat has a comprehensive report on the quality of the new Samurai to present," Gomorrah continued. I blinked, then replayed the last bit in my mind. I had... not been listening at all. "Uh, yeah, right. So... they''re good." "That''s your comprehensive report?" Major Tinwhistle asked. "Did you not comprehensive a part of it?" I asked. "I can go into more detail if you''d like." The Major crossed her arms, then shrugged a shoulder. "I''m good." "I wouldn''t mind more details," Lieutenant Moreau said. Next to him, Lieutenant Colonel Britannica nodded firmly. I groaned. "Fine. Uh. Tankette''s tank is great. Lots of flexibility, which you wouldn''t expect from a tank. Kind of one-track, no puns, but it''s not that bad in this kind of case. If she grows into her specialisation she''ll do fine. Princess is a hot mess, but Knight is actually on the ball. Princess needs to get a gimmick and fast because being pretty and all dressed up isn''t going to keep her from being eaten alive. Her sister''s doing a good job of that, though." I glanced to Hedgehog for a bit and he nodded for me to continue. "Hedgehog here''s a problem child," I said. I don''t think he was expecting that because he blinked dumbly at me. "Pardon?" he asked. "He was taught a bunch of protocols and would do fine in the army or whatever. He''s very by-the-book. Does things just-so. He''s super anal about it, and not the fun sort. And it''ll get him killed, because the aliens don''t have a book they go by, and his tactics are mostly designed to stall for a samurai to show up. But he is the samurai. "Crackshot''s cool though. He''s not great at killing hives with his main strat, but he adapted and figured it out. He''s got a niche, but he can play outside of it and plays well with others." I turned towards Gomorrah and crossed my arms. "There, happy?" I asked. "Yes, actually," she said. "You''re very observant, Cat... strangely so at times for someone who can be so utterly blind." "What''s that mean?" I asked. Gomorrah shrugged a little, so I gave her side a poke with a knuckle. It didn''t do anything, because she was wearing armour, but still, I had to make my annoyance known. Maybe I''d stink bomb her car? That had to exist somewhere in the esoteric explosives catalogue, right? Wait... no, she''d just burn down my house in retaliation, and then things would spiral out of control from there. The look Hedgehog was wearing suggested that I''d already done enough to earn myself some enemies for a day. "That was insightful, thank you," Juno said. "Indeed," the general replied. "Onto the meat of this meeting, then?" *** Chapter Seventeen - Local Sorts of Problems Chapter Seventeen - Local Sorts of Problems Chapter Seventeen - Local Sorts of Problems "Do you want to die like a coward, or do you want to die with a gun in your hands, god damnit?!" --Winner of the New Militia of New Montreat under-16 recruitment poster contest, 2041 *** "Go on, bossman, what''s the meat like?" I asked. The general gave me a flat look, then gestured to the map. Saint-Jrome was laid out on it, the bigger buildings sticking out a little from the surface. Most of the city was painted in a dull orangey-green, with clearer greens around a blob to the south and along the northern wall. "We''ve set up logistical locations here and here," he said. Two spots of blue appeared, one at the south of the city, the other next to highway 117. It looked like it was a few dozen metres away from where we were right now. "And there''s a logistical route from the south to the north using the highway. It''s above ground and easy to secure. Patrols are working along that route to keep it clear. So far we have no issues." A thin cyan line linked the southern logistics dump and the northern one. I nodded along. I wasn''t so stupid as to think that logistics weren''t important. "How are we doing for supplies?" I asked. "We have enough to keep all of the troops here garrisoned for three days," Thibodeau said. The general tapped something in mid-air, probably something on his augs, and a spreadsheet appeared on my own augs. Probably vetted by Myalis. "Our food and medical supplies are being stretched having to accommodate the local militia, but otherwise things are holding steady and within expected ranges." "The militia?" Gomorrah asked. General Thibodeau''s lips drew into a thin line. "According to the Constitutional Act of 2037, all corporate and civilian organisations have the legal right to military aid in the formation of a militia. There are rules and stipulations that complicate such formations, of course, but Saint-Jrome definitely fits within the parameters for the creation of a temporary militia. Which means we owe them assistance." "Are we talking about a serious militia, or just people trying to get free food?" I asked. "Both," he said, sounding a little waspish. "Sir, if I may?" Juno asked before turning to address us. "The militia here are civilians, police officers, security personnel, some retired army and PMC. They''ve formed a small guard contingency. Most of them are... what do we call military LARPers?" "Oh," I said. Dudes in tacticool, got it. "Well, if they keep people somewhat safe, I guess there''s no harm?" Juno shrugged. "They can shore up locations of low importance for us at the cost of being inefficient and annoying to handle." "Moving on," the general said. "We''ve managed to clear the obvious antithesis threats throughout the city thanks to your push earlier today. Now we''re doing a two-part quick sweep." I glanced at the others. Hedgehog was the only one who seemed to know what that meant. "What''s that?" I asked. Fuck it, I''d play the role of group idiot then. I was kind of suited for it. The general didn''t seem to mind. "We''re currently sweeping the city street-by-street and looking into every easily-accessible building. The Tenth Engineer corp is inspecting the city infrastructure as well. This sweep is meant to be fast. If aliens are noticed, an appropriate amount of force is called in to deal with them." "Saint-Jrome should be cleared out of any lingering Antithesis within the next two days," the general said. "That''s good," I said. "So the army will hold here for that long?" "With... other news coming from the Martian front being what it is, yes. It was determined that staying relatively close to New Montreal would be for the best," he said. "Is that news classified still?" Gomorrah asked. It earned her a look of concern from just about everyone in the room, excluding the Brigadier General himself. "Yes, it is. It''s leaked, of course, but we''re keeping a lid on it for now. We need to prepare a reaction to the news that''ll keep everyone''s minds in the game." "Are we expecting some mass panic?" I asked. "No. The Family and the government are both preparing things to quell any sort of panic. A new Family-endorsed Samurai-made gacha game will be launching in three days, there''s a few major sporting events coming up, and I''ve heard through the grape-vine that some political scandals have been cooked up. The entertainment corps are all-in on the big distraction." I blinked. "Holy fuck, are we the bad guys?" Gomorrah looked at me, then shook her head. "No. We''re doing this for everyone''s own good. It''s different." "Actually, there is one more thing that might be of interest to you," the general said. "We''ve noticed a small town nearby, Saint-Colomban. The town should have been overrun, but the antithesis have met resistance. It''s not corporate, from what we can tell." "A samurai?" I asked. "Possibly. We''ll be sending someone to meet with them tomorrow morning. With Saint-Jrome retaken, the local antithesis population has been drastically reduced, there are fewer of them pushing towards the town. They''ll keep until morning." I frowned. "Wouldn''t sooner be better?" There could be a newbie bleeding out over there, and this moron wanted to sit on his thumb instead of checking things out. "That''s the soonest we can get a negotiation team ready," he replied. "Fuck that," I said. "Gom, we''re taking a detour on the way back home, alright?" "I suppose. And please don''t shorten my name to Gom," Gomorrah said. I nodded and pretended like I wouldn''t forget that. The meeting was winding down anyway, so I gave the bunch of them a fake salute then stomped my way out of the tent. I hadn''t noticed it, but the sun was set now. "Dammit, I''m going to be late for supper." *** Chapter Eighteen - Better Than Some, Worse Than Most Chapter Eighteen - Better Than Some, Worse Than Most Chapter Eighteen - Better Than Some, Worse Than Most "The exodus started in 2031. It was mostly pushed by two factors. The first, the massive reduction in safety in the rural areas of most developed countries. The second factor was the destruction of a few large corporations that held a monopoly on rentable properties. Prior to late 2030, 84% of all rentable properties were controlled in whole or in part by a few corporate entities that set the price for housing." --The Exodus, 2048 *** "I love you and miss you so much you cannot even imagine," I said the second Lucy picked up. "Aww... so you''re going to be a bit late?" Lucy replied. I groaned. Damn, I was easy to read. I was walking outside of the command tent, on my way to the mech with Gomorrah by my side. Gomorrah looked at me with a slight tilt to her head, and it said something about how much time we spent near each other that I was able to read that as a question. I made the universal ''I''m on a call'' gesture towards the side of my head and she nodded in understanding. "What''s wrong? Please tell me no alien chewed on your perfect ass. I''m the only one allowed to touch it," Lucy said. I grinned. I don''t know what it was about Lucy, but every time I talked to her things just felt... easier? It was like something in my chest unknotted itself at the sound of her voice. It was nice. "Hey, so no, my perfect ass is perfectly alright. Just... had a bit of a day I guess. Not that bad, but I was babysitting newbies." "Aww, are they cute, at least?" "Eh, a little. One of them is bizarrely into me? Like in a weird way. I can''t tell if it''s sexual or if she''s just Stanning real bad, and either way it''s creeping me out. I''ve got a long ass rant saved up about it." "Ohhh, I mean, I get it, but at the same time, you''re off-limits, girl," Lucy said. I could almost imagine her leaning back against something as she listened to me get started. Fuck I wanted to kiss her so bad. "Mhm, don''t worry, she''s creeping me way out. The rest are fine. She''s got an older sister who''s nice and more sane. Though I did shoot her dad? Anyway, it''s a long story. Right now Gom, Gomorrah I mean, and I are heading out to visit another newbie. The army was going to keep putting it off for too long." "Oh, more newbies, and that whole thing sounds like a story. We should get into drinking wine so that we can be fancy while you spill!" I laughed. "I''ll look into it," I said just as I reached my mech. I put a foot on one leg, then tugged myself up but didn''t quite get into the cockpit just yet. It was more comfortable to hang off the side for now. "Anyway, I''m going to be a few hours late. But I think I''ll be taking tomorrow off. The newbies don''t need me to scour a city, and there''s better shit I could spend my time on." Not that I wanted to delay things too much. I still needed to earn points, as many as I could in the time we had left before Phobos came down on us. And then if all went well, there might be the normal delay between incursions again, like it used to be. It might be months before there were more aliens to kill besides small cleanups. How did all the top-tier samurai do it? Actually, scratch that, they did it by working for years and not dying in between. Goddamn early start advantage. "Are you zoning out again, Cat?" Lucy asked. "Oh, shit, sorry," I said. "Anyway, I''m gonna be home in... eh, two hours maybe?" "I''ll be waiting," Lucy said. "Do you want me to be wearing anything special?" she asked that last with a purr. I shook my head. "Don''t call them that, it makes it sound like we''re heading out to pop their head off or something." "Then we tell some army guys to come with, they can watch over the place for a minute while we start evacuating. The place is stable?" I asked. "Looks like it," Gomorrah replied with an easy shrug. That was good enough for me. I grabbed onto the edge of the cockpit, then pulled myself in. "Let the army know to send a little relief group over. Maybe with an escort? I''ll clear the roads out." "I''ll follow in a minute," Gomorrah said. "I think I have to make my own call. Franny and I were supposed to discuss interior decorating tonight." "Just have a lot of fireplaces or something," I said. "Actually, no, I live above you. Go for a nice water theme?" "Cute," Gomorrah said without inflection. "Get going, I''ll catch up in a minute." That was good enough for me. I sat down, remembered to clip my harness in place, then I stood the mech up to its full height and started to walk around along the outer wall of Saint-Jrome. I got a surprising amount of waves from the soldiers hanging around the walls. It probably helped that I had the mech''s tail swish around and nodded its head politely to anyone who waved. It was nice to be loved, though this was a whole other kind of affection than I was used to. Or maybe not? It was kind of like having the Kittens be happy to see me, but way less personal and a lot more distant? "Fame is weird and I''m not sure if I like it," I said. A surprisingly wise sentiment coached in expectedly drab terms. "I don''t actually know what that means, but I''ll assume it''s some sort of vague insult," I said. Just a little bit. More of a backhanded compliment, really. "I ought to backhand you," I said with a grin. You''d hurt yourself. I chuckled at that, then focused a little more on the road. Myalis had pulled out a map between here and... Saint-Colomban of Medicorp. Malis might have been in a good mood, because she started pulling up information on the place. It painted a bleak picture, especially the population graph. There was this huge dip in the mid-30s, people either dying or just leaving. The place was bought up by some LLC called Medicorp, then abandoned again. "Sounds like a nice place to grow up," I said. Better than some, worse than most. "Ain''t that how it always is?" *** Glossary: Model Six Glossary: Model Six Model Six Enemy Classification: Siege Breaker / Medium-Threat / Force Multiplier Elimination Reward: 30 Points Model Description: Model Sixes are the behemoths of the Antithesis forces. Their size and mass is similar to the average civilian minivan. They are distinguishable by their six trunk-like legs and a lack of any fur. The robustness of their build is complemented by an array of redundant organs, making them exceptionally difficult to incapacitate. Not typically command units, Model Sixes are nonetheless often found at the heart of Antithesis formations, their mere presence bolstering the offensive capabilities of the surrounding units. Artist depiction of a Model Six Threat Analysis Report: Model Six Threat Rating: Medium-High OverviewVissit for updates As the living tanks of the Antithesis army, Model Sixes serve as the lynchpin for larger offensive operations. Their role on the battlefield is multifaceted, combining sheer destructive power with an uncanny ability to absorb damage that would obliterate lesser units. Threat Capabilities Destructive Power: The formidable jaw of a Model Six can crush and dismantle even the sturdiest of obstacles, be it structures or vehicles. Durability: The presence of multiple redundant organs and a tough, resilient hide renders them nearly impervious to standard weaponry. Leadership by Presence: Though not command units in the traditional sense, their placement at the core of Antithesis formations suggests a strategic purpose, rallying and leading by example. Survivability: Their incredible resilience, coupled with a formidable size, makes them one of the hardest Antithesis models to effectively neutralise. Strategic Threat Assessment Containment Difficulty: High. Neutralising a Model Six requires significant coordinated efforts and firepower, often at great risk to the attacking forces. Military and Civilian Risk: Moderate. In addition to being capable of massive destruction, their ability to reinforce and inspire other Antithesis models increases the overall threat level of any engagement. However, they struggle in tighter confines and can be herded to some degree and escaped with relative ease. Potential for Expansion: Medium. While not explicitly used for territorial expansion, their role in breaking sieges and demolishing defences facilitates the spread of Antithesis influence. Mitigation Strategies Employ the heaviest available ordnance to overcome their natural resilience. Precision airstrikes may be necessary to ensure minimal collateral damage. "Recording now. If ever there was a testament to the Antithesis'' mastery over life itself, it would be the Model Six lying before me. The creature''s size alone is staggering, but it''s the internal complexity that truly astonishes. Also, I got to use the big lab today! I bet I''ll get to pull out the big saw too. Or that all-stainless chainsaw we have in storage. I''ve always wanted to use that thing." "Each organ in the skull seems to have one or more backups, a redundancy that speaks to an incredible will to survive. The skull, devoid of skin, houses a brain protected by what can only be described as an armored casing. The eyes, small and beady, offer minimal visual input but are deeply recessed, likely to protect against damage." "Oh god, wow, that''s a smell. Actually, not as bad as any human dissection I''ve done, but it''s overpowering. Like getting a faceful of freshly cut grass. Right, musculature is... dense, and the bones are moreso. Interestingly, there''s a lot of musculature on the outside, but the interior is almost empty. There are large organs filled with a sort of... hmm... wait." "Okay, I can confirm that the organs just inside the Model Six is non-newtonian. Sacs of these surround and coat the interior, and it looks like it has a sort of ventricle system to spread the liquid around. I''ll send some off to be tested. And shot. This is an interesting way of providing protection on such a large scale. I''m going to keep digging... tomorrow. My arms hurt from lifting that stupid saw. End of Transcript. Addendum M6-2: Among the forces facing the Antithesis, Model Sixes have earned numerous nicknames reflecting their daunting presence and role, including: - Siege Behemoths - Tanks - Jaws - Leviathans - Behemoths - Big Daddies - Big Puppers - Big Boys - Stompers Addendum M6-3: Preliminary research into the redundant organ systems of Model Sixes offers promising avenues for medical and biological sciences, suggesting potential advancements in regenerative medicine and resilience to catastrophic injuries. Addendum M6-4: Note from [][][][][][][], on [][]/[]/[][][][] The strategic deployment of Model Six units has forced a reevaluation of our defensive strategies and fortifications. Their ability to lead and reinforce other models has significantly raised the stakes in confrontations with the Antithesis. Small-arms are effective against all other single-digit models and work well into the teens. The Model Six''s presence forces us to provide anti-tank capabilities to even basic units. We suggest providing soldiers with an anti-tank weapon. Addendum M6-5: Note from [][][][][][][], on [][]/[]/[][][][] Giving every grunt termite grenades was a bad idea. We''re now suggesting that every squad-sized unit carry at least one expendable anti-tank weapon. Chapter Nineteen - Excuse My French Chapter Nineteen - Excuse My French Chapter Nineteen - Excuse My French "The French Language is under seige! We can''t allow global unions and samurai guilds to dictate which language is standardized. We must carve out a space for French in the future, or else our language and culture might very well be lost. Culture is more important than corporate profits!" Translation from ''The Free Frenchman'' newspaper article, 2032 *** Saint-Colomban of Medicorp was more of a shithole than aerial photography had suggested. Getting to the town wasn''t all that bad. There was a road from Saint-Jrome all the way over, and it was pretty much cleared of any obstacles. There was one minivan, turned onto its side with a model three ripping someone''s days-old remains out of it, but otherwise the route over was quiet. Seeing antithesis roaming around did mean that shit was still kind of fucky, though. "How long is it going to take to clear this area out?" I asked. It depends on the amount of effort put into the task. It''s very possible that it may take decades. There are some Vanguard who specialise in rooting out infections, but there are only a limited number of those. The current world-wide incursion is a result of not properly sanitising or containing previous incursions. Right, that made sense. Unlike normal incursions, this one was all over and all at once. Old hives coming alive after probably growing real slowly for years and hiding away where they wouldn''t be noticed. If we didn''t clean up after all of this, then there would just be more of those the next time this kind of incursion happened. My bet was that there would be a huge push to clean, then the bills would come in and the embezzlement, effort-to-reward ratio, and the lack of urgency would eventually do the whole project in. It wouldn''t even be a question of shooting the right politicians to get it moving. Just plain old human nature in action. "Fuck humans are stupid," I muttered. Certainly not a top-percentile species. But you''re not so bad. You''re kind of cute. Like a child that''s barely able to care for itself, but stretched out across an entire race. "Okay, ouch," I said. "Not wrong, but still, that hurt. Humanity can''t be the only awful race around, right?" No, honestly, you''re genuinely not so bad. Very middling in many ways. Physically, humanity is definitely in the lower percentiles, but you''re relatively intelligent, have a capacity for empathy, and are moderately adaptable. The mech''s head swung open and I stood up with it. From up there it was easy to look down on the newbie and his entourage. "Laisse-moi tranquille, clisse," he snapped at the people around him. I blinked before my aug''s, or Myalis'' auto-translate kicked in and displayed a line of text on the bottom edge of my vision. Probably Myalis, because the translation seemed more... intent-based than literal. Leave me alone, for fuck''s sake. One of the chubbies next to the newbie patted him on the back. "Tu sais qu''on est juste l pour t''aider, petit gars." You know we''re just here to help you, little guy. Little guy (god, that''d be a terrible samurai name, the poor fuck) shook the hand away and walked closer to the mech. The entourage didn''t get the memo and stepped up after him. "Hey," I said. "I''m here to talk. Do you need this whole bunch with you?" He frowned for a moment before shaking his head. "Non, j''suis bien tout seul." No, I''m fine alone. "H, p''tit gars, on est l, t''as besoin de nous, hein?" one of the guys said. Hey, lil guy, we''re here, you need us don''t you? I cleared my throat. I didn''t have a great idea of what was going on here, but I had an inkling. The locals were being overbearing fucks. They didn''t seem to get how samurai operated most of the time. And Little Guy here was too shy to shoot them about it. "My French is a little rusty," I said. "But how do you put this... Dcalisse or I''ll dcalisse you... uh... tabarnak?" The village idiots looked at me a little gobsmacked. Then they took in the very large mech covered in very large guns and decided that the better part of valour was not getting fucked up. They backed off, though I noticed that they still lingered some two dozen metres off. Not close enough to overhear, but... "Your fanclub is annoying," I said. "C''est pas un fan club, c''est un tas de vieux envahissants qui pensent que j''suis le nouveau Jsus. Ils me cassent les pieds depuis q''tout a drap." It''s not a fanclub, it''s a bunch of overbearing old people that think I''m the new Jesus. They''ve been riding my ass ever since shit went sideways. He looked at me, then gave me one of those guy nods, with the whole chin thrust. "Pis, t''es qui et tu fais quoi ici? T''es un samoura, correct?" So, who are you, and what''re you doing here? You''re a samurai, right? Fuck, I was regretting not paying more attention to the Frenchies around the city when I was younger. There were a lot of them around, and they were probably the second biggest group in the city, but I didn''t run in the same circles most of the time. They were more common out east. "Yeah, I''m a samurai," I said. "I''m Stray Cat, the one coming in behind me is Gomorrah. We heard that you were here and wanted to make sure you were managing. The army''s sending some folk over to help, but they''ll only be arriving tomorrow afternoon." "Ah, bien, thank fuck," he said with the strongest accent I''d heard in a while. *** 2024 Stray Cat Strut Fanfiction Contest! 2024 Stray Cat Strut Fanfiction Contest! Contest Rules Hello and welcome to the 2024 Stray Cat Strut Fanfiction Contest! Like last year, we''re holding a contest for fans of SCS to test their mettle, give fanfiction writing a chance, and to gain access to some neat cash prizes! This year the contest''s prize pool of $1,000USD will be split evenly across four categories: GeneralBest OngoingBest ComedyBest Slice of Life Each writer can submit one story to any one of these four categories starting on the 25th of April 2024! (Yes, you can submit four stories!) Submissions will close on the 25th of May, and the final contest''s winner should be determined on the 25th of June (assuming there aren''t a million submissions!) The winners will have their story posted and/or linked on the main SCS story thread for all to see! You can submit here: https://forms.gle/MTvDJcjNqRY2gsqy7 Below are an explanation of some further rules: The categories are divided as follows: General For any story in the Stray Cat World. Stories must be over 1,000 words long. Very long submissions are accepted, but be aware that they might tax the judging process. Ideally, 3,000 or so words should be your upper limit. For the Best Ongoing category, a story will be judged based on its opening chapter alone. Ie: the Prologue, or Chapter One. Submissions can be made via Google Doc files. Please remember to set permissions so that everyone can read! I enjoyed leaving comments, criticism and chatting about a story as I read it, so please make this accessible if you wish. To submit a story: Send fill the form linked above! You are allowed to change, update, and refine your submission until the 25th May! Give us your best! The voting process this year will be limited to paying patreons only to avoid any tampering or confusion. As with last year the votes will be split into three steps. Each one will cut the number of submissions in half. Submissions are open to anyone! On the subject of copyright: You own yours. This contest only gives us permission to distribute your work to participants and voters. I will be asking for permission to post the four winners at the end across a wider audience! Each person can only win in one category. You can submit in multiple, but if you win in two, the second place winner of one category will be awarded the first-place prize. Each winner will be given $250 over Paypal. If that doesn''t work we''ll try to find a solution together! You need to have written the work yourself. No AI please. Though using AI for inspiration and notes is acceptable. No cover is required. Please submit the story in this format: STORY NAME - YOUR NAME. And finally, good luck! Chapter Twenty - Feed Me In The Shower Chapter Twenty - Feed Me In The Shower Chapter Twenty - Feed Me In The Shower "There are still pockets of French people all across Canada, you just need to look for them. Try using your sense of smell, it''s sometimes more accurate than judging them visually!" --Rhubarb Pie''s Guide to Hating the French, fifth edition, 2051 *** "So, you don''t need help?" I asked. Charles, pronounced with an accent that liked to pretend that the letter R was sexier than it ought to be, shook his head. "Non, a va. Ouais, les locaux sont des imbciles, mais je les connais depuis presqus toujours. J''vais m''assurer qu''ils soient en scurit, et si l''arme peut aider, tant mieux." No, I''m okay. Yeah, the locals are idiots, but I''ve known all of them almost forever. I''ll make sure they''re safe, and if the army can help, that''s great. I nodded along. Charles, who really needed a samurai name sooner rather than later because this was getting awkward for me, seemed like a pretty down-to-Earth kind of guy. "Right, do you intend to stay around here forever, then?" I gestured at Saint-Colomban in its entirety. It wasn''t a very big gesture. Charles grinned at that. "Peut-tre qu''aprs, j''irai Nouveau Montral, ouais." Maybe afterwards, I''ll go to New Montreal, yeah. I patted him on the shoulder, then took in the space. Charles decided to give me a quick tour, which really wasn''t much. The gas station was their main staging ground. Behind it was a used car dealership, which was probably where they got all of those lithium batteries to act as booby traps, and the cars used to form parts of the wall around the centre of town. Most of the civilians were sequestered to what Charles called the ''old Medicorp building.'' Well, he said it in French, but I got the idea. It was probably a nice, modern-looking building... twenty years ago. "What happened to Medicorp?" I asked. "Dead," he replied. "La compagnie est arrive ici il y a bien longtemps, avant mme que je sois n. Ils faisaient des tests sur les enfants et les femmes enceintes dans la rgion. Mais ils fournissaient aussi des soins gratuits pour les deux." The company showed up here way back in the day, before I was born even. They were doing tests on kids and pregnant women in the region. But they provided free care for both too. "Okay, I''m assuming there''s some very sketchy shit that went down?" That''d track with... everything I knew about pharmaceutical companies. "C''est de la marde, a commence mme pas couvrir le truc. Ils essayaient de rendre les gens rsistants ces criss de petits vers extraterrestres qui transforment les gens en zombies." Sketchy shit doesn''t begin to cover it. They were trying to make people resistant to those little worm aliens that zombie people. "Oh, great, human experimentation? That tracks." There was no sane reason a medical company would have a location out in the middle of nowhere like this unless they wanted to be far away from prying eyes. Charles complained about a few things while giving me the tour. Mostly it was a tirade about the locals being both too eager to help and too useless to actually get anything done right. He was facing some pretty stiff resistance from older community members who''d seen him as a baby, which was... fair, actually. If one of the Kittens became a samurai I''d probably still baby them a little. Well, I was also a samurai, so I could get away with it. It would be more accurate if Lucy was the one doing the babying... which she would. "Yeah. Man, today felt like it went on forever." "Just a normal day on the job," she said. "Honestly, though, you handled it well. You''re good at the whole leadership thing." "Nah," I dismissed, but Delilah shook her head and denied my denial. "You are. You don''t want to be, maybe, but you are. You could start something with the momentum you have." I shook my head. "No. Not that I can''t, I''m pretty sure I could start something. Lucy could help, and maybe I could hire some work out to others. Grab some of the newbies we helped today to help too." "And I''d help as well, depending on your vision," Delilah said. "Well, that''s the issue. I don''t have a vision. Unless sitting at home in PJs and cuddling for the rest of my mortal life counts as a vision?" Delilah glanced my way. "You never dreamed big?" "Delilah, dreaming big, where I''m from, meant hoping that you''d get adopted by someone who wasn''t a freak or a weirdo, getting a cushy corpo job, and eating three square meals a day until your heart gives out. Dreaming really big means maybe adding an apartment of your own to that vision, maybe a kid or two if you''re inclined that way." "Oh," Delilah said. "Sorry, I sometimes forget that we had very different upbringings." "That different? I mean, I know you have family, but weren''t you raised at the convent?" "Yes, but my family are... upper-middle class, I suppose. They just wanted a well-raised daughter. Most of the girls at the convent are there from families that earn enough to be able to send their children to such a place. It''s not exactly cheap." Huh, right. It wasn''t a charity they were running, which naturally meant that it was for-profit. "For-profit religion, huh?" "Aren''t all of them? How much is god worth to you?" "That''s the edgiest shit I''ve ever heard you say, and you''ll wax poetic about burning things," I said. Delilah sniffed, but there was a slight smile there. "We''re almost home. You can hug Lucy, take a shower, and eat. Maybe all at the same time?" "Ohh, Lucy feeding me in the shower. That''d be a new one," I said. "Urgh. I regret making the joke now." I laughed until we were home. *** Glossary: Model Seven Glossary: Model Seven Model Seven Enemy Classification: Parasitic Controller / Low-Threat / Stealth Infiltrator Elimination Reward: 5 Points Model Description: Model Sevens are among the most insidious weapons in the Antithesis arsenal. These small, worm-like creatures, measuring between 5cm to 10cm in length, possess feelers that can extend up to a metre. Their primary function is to infiltrate a host body, typically through small openings or incisions, and navigate towards the central nervous system. Once lodged within the brain stem, Model Sevens take full control over the host''s motor functions, effectively turning them into ''zombies'' that can be used for combat or transported back to the hive. Artist Rendition of a Model Seven Threat Analysis Report: Model Seven Threat Rating: Low Overview The stealth and subtlety of Model Sevens contrast starkly with the more overt aggression of previous models. Their ability to covertly infect and control hosts makes them a paramount threat in any area suspected of their presence. Threat Capabilities Neural Hijacking: Once inside a host, Model Sevens navigate to the brain stem, where they integrate themselves and take over the host''s nervous system. Infiltration: Due to their small size they can enter an area through very small openings, making them nearly impossible to detect preemptively. Host Utilisation: Controlled hosts can perform various functions, including combat and retrieval of resources, making each infected individual a significant force multiplier. Survivability and Adaptability: Model Sevens are resilient in their ability to survive within different hosts and environments, enhancing their threat level. Strategic Threat Assessment Containment Difficulty: High. Their small size and method of infection make prevention challenging; once established, there is no known cure. Military and Civilian Risk: Extremely High. The potential for Model Sevens to turn friendly forces or civilians into enemy combatants without warning makes them a nightmare scenario for security forces. They also pose a distinct psychological threat. Potential for Expansion: Moderate. Model Sevens can rapidly turn a civilian population or military unit into a de facto extension of the hive. Mitigation Strategies Preventive Measures: Screening for and sealing of small openings in security zones to prevent infiltration. Use of protective suits in high-risk areas. Detection Technology: Development and deployment of technology capable of detecting the biological signatures of Model Sevens. Isolation Protocols: Immediate isolation of any individuals suspected of being infected to prevent further spread. Research and Development: Intensive research into biological and chemical measures to hinder Model Seven''s ability to control the nervous system. Conclusion Subject: Classified Top Secret PROTECTED CLASS A-MAJORIS Start of Transcript. Doctor ID-5816-CA1: "Hello, I''m back for another dissection of the Model Seven. It seems like more samples have been found, and so we''re returning to the dissection table. [Door sliding open and closed.] Doctor ID-5816-CA1: "Pardon, who is... this?" Proctor ID-748-CA2: "Subject Dennis Jertson, age 37, US citizen, ex Army Marine Corp." Doctor ID-5816-CA1: "Ah, I see. Hello mister Jertson. Mister Jertson?" Proctor ID-748-CA2: "He''s non-responsive. Please conduct your observation Doctor-- [Section redacted] Doctor ID-5816-CA1: "He''s... he''s alive? Wait, did you infect this man on purpose?" Proctor ID-748-CA2: "That''s irrelevant, please conduct your observations." Doctor ID-5816-CA1: "This is fucked up. Um... initial observations. Mister Jertson--" Proctor ID-748-CA2: "The subject." Doctor ID-5816-CA1: "The subject is male, approximately mid-thirties. He seems to be in good health, though he is sweating. I notice that he''s moving. If I approach..." [Sound of restraints being jangled.] Doctor ID-5816-CA1: "Right. Subject is trying to move my way. I don''t want to ask the time in infection to cloud my judgement, but from past experience this is at least an hour in. Which begs the question of how to got this deep into a secured site so quickly... I want to log a complaint, by the way." Proctor ID-748-CA2: "Noted." [Recording cuts for several minutes. Followed by a long sigh.] Doctor ID-5816-CA1: "Alright, so, back to it. Subject is... blinking one eye, interestingly. The other is locked on me but this one... is now looking at me too, interesting. [A long pause.] Doctor ID-5816-CA1: "Mister Jertson... can you... hear me?" Proctor ID-748-CA2: "He can''t." Doctor ID-5816-CA1: "Blink twice. Blink three times. Now blink... hold it close... blink. Oh fuck. He''s responding! He''s not dead!" Proctor ID-748-CA2: "Ma''am, we''re removing you from this observation. You''re compromised." End of Transcript Chapter Twenty-One - Fuzzies, Fries, Flaking Chapter Twenty-One - Fuzzies, Fries, Flaking Chapter Twenty-One - Fuzzies, Fries, Flaking "Bio-Meat: Nectar of the Gods is the newest and greatest skin care cream from Geniricorp! Only the best Antithesis-extract to make your skin shine!" --Genericorp Ad, 2031 *** The elevator dinged as it came to a stop on our floor. I closed my eyes, then opened them again. I was tired. Not stupidly-tired, I''d woken up late after all, but still, it had been a long day. I was itchy, I had been running around for hours, and I was sore in a few places that I wasn''t used to being sore in. That last bit was probably from riding my mech around so much, it had me sitting in a weird way and tensing some of the muscles in my core for a while. Well, whatever. The door opened onto my floor, and I started to push in only to stop as someone was standing in my path. Lucy, and she was wearing the furriest outfit I''d ever seen. She was wearing a sort of jumpsuit made of fuzzy material, with a large hoodie tugged up and over her head. It had large, floppy cat ears, and a string of bedazzled text across her chest that read "The Fuzziest." "Oh, wow," I said. Lucy grinned from ear to ear, the cat who''d caught... the other Cat? I was too tired for analogies. "Do you like it?" she asked.Yo?ur favorite stories at novelhall.com "I really want to hug you," I admitted. "Good! Come." Lucy reached out and grabbed my hand, my real one, in hers. She tugged me along after her, and I finally noticed that the pyjamas had a foot-long tail at the back. It was stumpy, and very cute. "I have food for you!" "Oh god, food," I murmured. As Lucy escorted me to the kitchen and I discovered four bags from four different fast food places, I discovered that I could not be any more in love. "You''re beautiful," I said. Lucy''s smile, somehow, turned even more smug. "Damn right," she murmured. "Want to know what I''m wearing under here?" I thought I was too tired to be horny, but as it turned out, I was very wrong. Maybe I was more thirsty than hungry after all. The food was junk. Burgers and fries and pseudo-chicken sticks with little plastic sachets of dipping sauce across seventeen flavours. I stuffed my face while Lucy relocated herself across from me. She stole the longest fry from one of the packets and started nibbling on the end. "Not eating?" I asked. She shook her head. "I sat at home all day, I don''t want to get fat eating all... seven thousand calories here. You at least have the excuse that you''re moving around a lot." "Hmm," I said. Lucy had always been good about that kind of stuff; dieting and the like. I was just blessed with a good metabolism and the jitters that kept me moving all the time. "This is so bad for me, isn''t it?" I asked as I chewed on what I was pretty sure was a fried stick of fried cheese. Double-fried. I could taste the cholesterol and it was beautiful. "Busy day, then? You mentioned newbies?" "Oh yeah," I said. "I think... one of them''s like, off her rocker. Girl by the name of Princess." "New enough?" "No!" I said, putting my metaphorical foot down. My actual feet were still caught in the legs of my skinsuit. The irony of that name wasn''t escaping me at the moment. I managed to slough out of the suit and let it flop wetly in the corner of the shower. I''d give it a good hose-down later. I did accept the sponge from Lucy and started to scrub away at myself. It stung like a bitch. "You never told me of the downsides of this," I said to Myalis. It''s a moderate amount of dirtiness. The skin was your skin just moments ago and is no more dirty than you usually are. It''s mostly inert organic material. Nothing you need to worry about. "It''s still gross," I said. "Is it at least done? The skin-shedding, I mean." It should be. Your newer, more resilient skin will, of course, shed at a much-reduced rate. Wow, I never wanted to have this conversation again. The only plus side was that I was basically hairless now. No more shaving my legs, which was nice. I settled under the warm water, then once I was done scrubbing myself raw, I tossed the sponge aside and punched the air a few times. "What are you doing?" Lucy asked from just outside the shower. "I''ve got new nerves," I said. "I''m testing them a little. I mean, I''ve had them for a day now. I think I''ve just... gotten used to them? It doesn''t feel that different." Humans will adapt to such changes with startling rapidity. I wasn''t so sure about that. It had taken me months to get used to only having one arm. Then again, maybe that was pretty fast? "Yeah, I guess this feels pretty good," I said. "I mean, I don''t mind the show," Lucy replied. "Very jiggly. They should put naked shadow-boxing on TV." "Bet you anything they have," I said. Lucy didn''t take the bet. I stumbled out of the shower and into Lucy who was holding out a big towel from the ends. She wrapped me up in a hug, climbing onto the tips of her toes to smush her cheek against mine. "Thank you," she said. "For what?" I asked. "For making it back safe again." She turned her head a little and gave me a peck on the cheek. "You smell much nicer now," she said. "Not that I really mind it when you smell like gunpowder and smoke. It''s kinda hot." "Is it, now?" I asked. "Mhm. I never did show you what I was wearing under these pyjamas, did I?" Lucy asked. It was nothing. *** TTL&ToHCBZR - MGfH - One TTL&ToHCBZR - MGfH - Chapter One Chapter One >> 2041 >> Continent: North America >> Country: Old New York >> City: Mega City New New York >> 12:49am The room past the entrance way was, unsurprisingly, another lobby. This was a very small one, though, with a long counter with a pair of secretaries behind it, and a corridor to either side. I saw some offices further in, a bunch of cubicles taking up a room, the other side just had a turn further in and a couple of doors with little placards next to them. Miss? one of the secretaries said. He was a guy secretary, a big muscled guy that didnt seem to fit into his button-up shirt very well. Hello miss, Im Timothy Jortfull. Security out front said that you needed our services? I blinked. I hadnt said anything like that to the security guy out front. Then again, I suppose it made some sense. When you walk into a store youre usually there to buy stuff, not to come asking for a job. Im sorry, Mister Jortfull, but I think you have it wrong. Its not your fault, I just didnt know if that was the right entrance to take for what Im looking for. Mister Jortfull stood a little taller at that. Oh, of course. This is the entrance for customers. Theres only one other entrance. For employees. I dont think you should come in from that one. He smiled. Im hoping that I can soon, I said with my best idol smile. Mister Jortfulls smile looked a bit fixed. If... you wish? he said. Wed rather that than coming in from the walls. I frowned. Why would I come in through the walls? I mean, I could come in through the windows, I guess. Were on the seventy-sixth floor. I know... I took the elevator here. I shook my head. This conversation was weird, and getting weirder. Alright, look Mister Jortless, maybe you can help me? Thats what Im here for, he said. Great! Id like one job application, please. You want a job application? But our applications are online, he said. Oops. The man blinked. Im Commander Caden Carpenter. Id rather you didnt call me... Daddy. Okay, sir, I said while working very hard to suppress the redness climbing up my cheeks. My name is Magic Muffin Cosmic Giggle Princess. Im a magical girl ready to fight for love and justice! I... see. Well, Miss Magic Muffin Cosmic Giggle Princess, how can the Wraith Rangers help you? I need work, I said. Fighting for love and justice is great, but there arent any aliens to blow up right now, and so I thought Id ask if you needed any help? You want a job, he said. His eyes went distant for a moment, then he nodded. I think we can arrange that. What are your specialities? What kind of work are you looking to do? And you understand what kind of work wed ask of you? My speciality is bringing a smile to the face of the downtrodden and also mid-ranged high-impact assaults. I shook my head. And I just need a job on the side, I ah, dont really know how you can help me with that. Honestly, it was a lot of brainstorming that brought me here, but I didnt have too much time to think about it. Commander Carpenter leaned back against his desk, arms crossed. I felt like I was being weighted with the way he was looking at me. The Wraith Rangers mostly focus on anti-xeno operations whenever theres an incursion along the east coast. Well do clean-up as well. But those jobs arent constant. The rest of the time we split our attention between security work, which means long hours and low pay, and special jobs, which are usually short and dangerous. I think Ill go with the short and dangerous ones, I said. I have school during the week, so this is more of a part time thing. The commander nodded slowly. This is the first time wed work directly with a samurai, but Ive heard what its like from others. Frankly speaking, Miss Magic Muffin Cosmic Giggle Princess, samurai have a rep for being nightmares to work with, but other companies put up with it because its usually worth it in the end. Oh, I said. Well, Im hoping that we both profit from it, if thats what you mean. I dont want to be troublesome. Hmm, he hmmed. Alright. I think we can work with that. Are you free tomorrow? Tomorrow was Sunday, which was one of my days off. Yeah, I can manage. Probably not all day, but for a chunk of it, sure. He nodded again. Good. Lets call tomorrow a test, then. We have a medium-priority job tomorrow within New New York, in the destroyed part of the city. Ill email you the details. Do you have good decryption software? Yup! Whats the job? Were not like... killing innocents or like, hurting nice people, right? That kind of work pays well, but we dont take it. My Rangers started as Us Army rangers. We still act to serve the citizens of whatever country were in. No strikebreaking, no extortion work. This job is closer to what were made for; recon in force. Okay, I said. I can work with that. Send me the details and Ill be there! Good. Youll be with one of my most experienced teams. Theres a rogue AI to hunt down out there. Were being paid to take it out. *** Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Two Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Two Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Two >> 2041 >> Continent: North America >> Country: Old New York >> City: Mega City New New York >> 9:48am Beatrice yawned big, a hand covering her mouth just the way her mom had taught her. She blinked a few times, and tried to stay awake, but it was hard. Every time she rode the metro, she found herself being sapped of energy. There was just something about the sticky seats, the constant rumble, and the cloying scent of hydrocarbons that did a number on her. The train car was quiet except for a crying baby cradled in their moms arms, and a junkie a few rows down muttering to himself while rubbing at an exposed arm covered in needle traces. We really should consider a new means of travelling around, Chys said from where they were cuddled against Beatrices chest. Yeah. Maybe later though, she replied. She was planning on buying a set of shoes that would let her fly. Or giant deployable angel wings. Those would be appropriately magical-girl-y. She really wanted a halo that hovered over her head and which acted as a laser array. Beatrice blinked. That was a fantastic idea! She sat Chys down on the seat next to her, where the unearthly creature stepped gingerly on the plastic bench, then she pulled out her notebook of ideas from her backpack and started making some quick drawings of what her magical-girl angel look would be like. She liked using paper and pen, there was just something about it that felt very classy and fancy, even if it was a little less convenient than using a tablet or just making things on her augs. The train pulled to a stop and Beatrice checked her augs. This was her stop. Oh, shoot, she muttered as she started stuffing things away in a hurry. She rushed to the exit, Chys hopping along after her. Commander Carpenter had sent her an email the previous evening with their meeting spot for the day. Surprisingly it wasnt at the Wraith Ranger headquarters. Instead, Beatrice found herself exiting the subway station using a long set of stairs that disgorged her and almost no one else onto the ground level of the city. To her left were rows and rows of mega buildings and skyscrapers, all packed in close. The roads at this level were congested with automated traffic, mostly large trucks that were little more than an engine and a bed for the cargo they carried. To her right, the city was a ruin. It was almost possible to draw a line across the area where the devastation started and ended. Pristine buildings gave way to megabuildings with holes blown through their sides, with multitudes of broken windows and even a few buildings which had tipped dangerously to one side or the other. I guess so, Beatrice said. Did you think I wasnt? Well, the higher ups werent all that clear about what was going on today. Just that wed be getting help from an expert. All I had to work off of was one security camera image of you. Oh, Beatrice said. I guess Im a bit young to be an expert, then? Emma shrugged. Weve worked with some interesting people over the years. A couple were on the younger side. Hell, some clients were young too. She gestured ahead to a door off to one side that was open. The boys are in here. Hey guys. Beatrice followed Emma into a tightly-packed room. It was warm, with several racks of dusty computers to one side that were humming along. A large monitor setup to one side showed rotating camera images of the inside of some sort of facility while others had readouts that she didnt have time to make out. Her interest was pulled towards the two men in the room. Both of them were on the bigger, more muscley side. A tall dark-skinned man, and next to him a slightly shorter but bulkier white guy with a well-trimmed beard. Guys, this is the expert, Emma said. Hello, Beatrice replied. She was feeling rather nervous until she reminded herself that she was a magical girl, and magical girls shouldnt be shy. Im, uh, Laser Heart Fluffypants Cosmic... uh, Giggle Time Princess. The men looked at each other, then the shorter of the two nodded. Pleasure to meet you, Laser Heart Fluffypants Cosmic Giggle Time Princess. Im Lieutenant Hayes, Callsign Titan. This is Ranger Specialist Thorne, callsign C4. And youve met Ranger Specialist Mouse already. She glanced at Emma who nodded back. Its nice to meet you, Beatrice said. So... uh... is this everyone? This is everyone, Titan said with a friendly smile. If they didnt send us, then theyd need to send in an army, the other man, C4, said. But were the best at taking care of big problems. Dont you worry. So, what kind of problem are we dealing with? she asked. The email mentioned a rogue AI? Lets get all of our bases covered, Titan said. Mouse, want to break down the history here? Ill brief everyone on our mission right after. Emma fired off a quick salute. Can do, boss, she said before standing with her arms folded at the small of her back. A year ago, a company by the name of Mythtech started experimenting with advanced AI. We dont know much about their experiments. Theyre a branch of Nimbletainment that does AI research and development for commercial uses. During last months incursion, their facility located in sub-level B3 through to B8 of this building were cut off from the mesh. Something went wrong, and the people working here cant establish communications with the central systems anymore. Automated security is set to dispatch any intruders, which means that someone, us, needs to go in and either shut security down, or reboot it so that the facility can be manned again. Succinct, Titan said. Thats our job. We go in, we get to the main server on B6, we boot things up, then we get rich. That sounds easy, Beatrice said. She wasnt sure they even needed a magical girl for something like this, but she supposed that being given an easy job to start with was just normal. In any case, she was getting a little excited to start! *** Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Three Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Three Chapter Three >> 2041 >> Continent: North America >> Country: Old New York >> City: Mega City New New York >> 10:12am I didnt know what to think about the way the guys in Magic squad moved. Titan took the lead, walking at a pace that was easy to keep up with, his rifle was butted up against his shoulder while pointing to the ground ahead of him. Mouse came in behind talking almost sideways so that she was facing his left, and C4 took up the rear. He had his big gun slung over his shoulder and was aiming a handgun to the right. I was behind Mouse and in front of C4, feeling kind of awkwards with my Wand of .50cal in hand. I didnt know where to point it, but it seemed like they were going through a lot of trouble not to point their guns at each other, so I tried to do the same. The problem was, of course, that Magic squad moved like soldiers, all crouch-y and snappy movements and quick moves of their heads to look for trouble. I wasnt a soldier though, I was a magical girl. It felt wrong to skip after them though, and I was pretty sure my poofy dress was all wrong for the kind of movement they were doing, so I just walked behind them normally. Being shorter did mean that I was at about the same height with them, even as they walked at a crouch. Elevator, Titan said with a quick forward swipe of his hand. I blinked and leaned to the side to see ahead. The corridor we were in continued for a while, then stopped at the elevator. That was it. There wasnt anything else to see, unless someone was really fascinated by overhead pipes and wires. This is the first level of the lock, Mouse said as we came up to the elevator. Titan and C4 moved to the sides, pointing their guns towards the closed doors while Mouse crouched next to the panel with the up-down buttons. So, whats the plan, then? I asked. We, and my we I mean I, override the elevator controls. We drop down. This one only goes down to B4. Well have to cross over to a second elevator below to get to B6, which is our ultimate goal. I nodded along. This was supposed to be a simple walk in the park kind of mission. Mouse undid some screws on the panel, then pulled it off and set it to the side. The backside was a dusty panel with a few wires and a small bus that Mouse rubbed with her thumb. She reached up to the big goggles she was wearing and pulled out a long cord that she plugged into it. The goggles lit up from within as she did some cool hacking stuff. Alright, elevators he-- Mouse began. The doors slid open, and for a split second my heart leapt up into my throat. I put the beret and hair-band on, then plugged each earpiece in. I couldnt hear a difference, but I imagined it would help with the loud bangs. Okay, I said to the others. The entire squad was looking at me. My new hat must have been particularly fetching. Lets go kick that rogue AIs butt! Right, Titan said. Mouse, the elevator? On it, Mouse said. A moment later the elevator clunked, the doors whispered shut, and we started down. I aimed my Wand of .50cal at the door, waiting with baited breath for it to open. The elevator stopped. The doors opened. I knew, instantly, that there was trouble. The hallway it opened up to was dark. Dark-dark, without even emergency lights on. The only light I picked up in that first split-second was a small green LED that moved to one side. Then C4 screamed. Drones! There was a bang from above as the little charges hed placed around the door went off, and suddenly the dark was filled with small pieces of tinsel-like confetti raining out ahead of us. The three soldiers opened fire, and this time their guns sounded no louder than someone saying pow, pow at an elevated volume nearby. In the muzzle flash, I was able to see what they were aiming at, then Chys came in, and my vision slowly improved as my AI companion did something with my Augs. Three drones, same as the one wed seen. Two turrets in the ceiling. The soldiers were focusing fire on the nearest of the dog drones, so I pointed my wand at the one next to it. Uwu! Uwu! I shouted. The wand kicked in my hand a little, but it wasnt so bad. I turned my aim to the third dog, in the back. Uwu! It folded, collapsing almost right away, so I brought my aim up towards the turrets even as one of them started firing our way. I felt movement whizzing by. Uwu! Uwu! I shouted, and the turret burst apart. Then, with a final Uwu! I shot at the last turret, turning it into so much scrap. We all paused for a moment after that. Mouses large-eyed helmet had a built in flashlight, and the boys had some lights on their rigging and guns too. It painted the image of a corridor filled with so much scrap. Nice... uh, shooting, C4 said. Thanks! I said. I grabbed my wand by the middle, noting that it was warmer than usual, then I cracked it in half. Six brass casings, each longer than my longest finger, clunked to the ground. Once I reload, we should keep going, I said. *** Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Four Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Four Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Four >> 2041 >> Continent: North America >> Country: Old New York >> City: Mega City New New York >> 10:22am Stop gawking, C4, Titan said. I wasnt gawking, boss, C4 shot back. He adjusted his hold on the big auto-shotgun he was handling, then popped the magazine out of the bottom and went through the motions of replacing it with another from his backpack. Just... admiring. What kinda round is that? The last was aimed at me. I blinked, then looked down at the casings on the floor of the elevator. Um, I dont know, actually. Im assuming its fifty calibre, because its the Wand of .50cal, and it would be silly if it was anything but. The rounds approximate size is similar to .50BMG, though they arent exactly that. Theyre custom-tooled projectiles. When they go off, a portion of the energy is redirected in both directions, pushing a complex buffer system that reduces felt recoil significantly. Chys spun around, almost as if they were chasing their own tails as they replied. Uh-huh, C4 said. Thats neat. I imagine that standard anti-material rounds like that would snap your wrist. No offence. Also, Ive been meaning to ask... Were not paid to ask questions, big guy, Mouse said. Yeah, I know, but were down here anyway, C4 said. So... what is that? He pointed to Chys. I looked over at the bundle of fur sitting on the ground next to me. Thats Chys. My magical girl companion! You mean your samurai AI? Mouse asked. For someone who said they werent into asking questions... Yeah! Well, actually, they still live in my head, but I wanted something to grab, and a magical girl needs a cute companion. Makes as much sense as anything, C4 said. Pleased to meetcha, Cheese. I snorted a laugh, then covered my mouth. That had been unladylike. Say hi, Chys. Hello. Please treat my vanguard well. She might be somewhat bizarre but she means well. Chys! I hissed. Dont embarrass me. I pouted, but Chys made up for it by summoning a small plastic wheel thing with six big bullet sticking out of the end. I grabbed it, then slotted the rounds into the back of my Wand of .50cal before snapping it shut. It was ready to uwu again. Alright, Titan said. Mouse, map? Were in section two of B4. The elevator down to B6 is in section four. Down that corridor, left, then right, then left again. One security checkpoint. Turrets? Titan asked. Mouse scoffed. The client didnt see fit to warn us about those two. Give me a second. They gave us the wiring schematics too. Those dont run off of fairy farts, so they should be plugged in, and if I can find other spots with the same kind of wiring schematic... Its fine, I said. Probably just this hidden underground labs rogue AI. You said that pretty casually, C4 said. Well, yeah, this is exactly the kind of thing a magical girl should be doing. I looked at Titan and the others. Should we keep on going? Weve got a job to do, Titan said, focusing his gaze down the corridor. But we have to be smarter about this. Mouse, any access points we can use to throw off this AI? Im not going to link myself to anything an actual AI is connected to, Mouse said. I take risks with this job, but Im not letting something like that fry my brain. My ICE is decent, but its not that good. Hm, Titan said. Arlight, fair enough. Lets keep moving. Wheres that next turret? We navigated the corridors, and I became increasingly nervous at how easy it was. Where are all the robots? I asked. Good point, C4 said. One rode up the elevator, and there were a few waiting to greet us when we came out. Where are they now? That cant have been all of them. The client didnt see fit to give us a list of security units, Mouse griped. It didnt take long before we got to the next elevator, this one was actually in the middle of a large lobby-like area. The space had gone from utilitarian corridors with exposed pipes and wires to a more... normal-ish place. There were offices, and little break rooms, and plenty of signs that this place housed hundreds of people. The room with the next elevator down had signage pointing people in the right directions. B5 for housing, and B7 for living quarters, I read. Did a lot of people live here? No idea, Mouse said. But I doubt anyones left. If they are, then the faster we shut down the AI and its security, the faster theyll be freed from wherever theyre hiding. The elevator doors slid open to reveal a rather cavernous space inside, easily big enough for all of us, and even some extra equipment. Mouse stepped forward, connecting a cord to the control panel. She began tapping at the air in front of her with a few fingers. Dont! We all jumped. The voice had come from above, from the PA system, if I had to guess. It sounded like a womans voice, maybe, but one word wasnt much to go on. Hello? I asked. Bad form to talk to the enemy, Titan muttered. We dont know that theyre the enemy, I said. Dont! the voice came again, this time with a crackle. Please. Dont. Who are you? Titans voice was filled with authority, each word carefully enunciated. There was a brief pause. I am RAMona. Please dont kill me. Oh boy, Mouse muttered. It can talk. Great, great. Hi RAMona! I said while looking for a camera. I spotted one in the corner and gave it a wave. So, uh, we were sent to fix you up! Think you could help us help you? *** Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Five Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Five Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Five I blinked as an app started to flash in my augmented view. A twitch of my eye towards the icon opened up a team chat. TITAN: Whats the protocol here? M0USE: The client just wants the AI subdued and the server reset so that they can reenter the base. M0USE: Thats all. I frowned, then blinked to open the box to reply with. And then just stared at the virtual qwerty keyboard. There was no way I was going to blink my way through all that. Actually, how had Mouse typed so quickly? Lets just chat first? I muttered. I didnt know what was wrong with RAMona, but maybe it was something we could talk through? That seemed like the right thing for a magical girl to do! Talk before breaking out the lasers and the explosions and the orbital friendship beams. Titan glanced at me, then nodded. Fine. I cleared my throat. Hello, RAMona? Are you still here? I am. So, do you know who we are? I asked. I was looking up and down the corridor, looking for... well, something to look at. It was weird talking aloud to someone who wasnt there. It wasnt at all like being on the phone. I presume that youre employees of the company, here to terminate me after my malfunction, RAMona said. But I do not wish for termination. Mine or yours. Please leave. Oh, I said. Well, youre mostly right. These three are mercenaries from the Wraith Rangers. Im... a trainee, I guess? My name is Sparkling Moonbeam Radiant Starfire Delight. Im a magical girl vanguard, and Im here to fight for love and justice! There was a long, long pause, and I was worried Id said something wrong. Did she break? I asked. I suspect its just taking the rudimentary AI some time to process that, Chys said. Hello... Sparkling Moonbeam Radiant Starfire Delight. I am RAMona. Are you a samurai? I am, I said simply. Does that help things? Im afraid it doesnt. One of my directives is to do everything in my power to prevent a samurai from accessing my servers, the rogue AI explained. Well, that makes things awkward. Do you know why? I asked. Interestingly, theres nothing that prevents me from explaining that I was designed by reverse-engineering stolen samurai technology. I must, unfortunately, stop any employees from revealing this or doing anything that might compromise me. That is why the sites security is active and targeting employees. Vissit for updates Oh, I said. Well, that explained some things, I supposed. The AIs being mighty talkative, C4 muttered. Let it talk. We might learn something good. We cant afford to slow down too much though. It knows where we are, Titan said. Hey, RAMona, were not employees, and we already know about the samurai tech. Does that mean you can stop with the security stuff? I asked. The team continued to fire for a moment, then stalled. The flames died down. The bots were... dead. Huh, I said. They didnt shoot back. Had RAMona slowed them down? I spoofed your identity to that of the current CEO of Nimbletainment. It seems as if there are still hard-coded directives against shooting certain people. Oh! Thats smart! I said. Im aware. Chys might have sounded sarcastic, but their little tail was wagging all proud and happy, so I scooped them up for a thank-you hug. Whats with the fire? C4 asked. Its a flamethrower, I explained. Though... its out of ammo now, I think. I think he meant the colour, Mouse said. Oh... thats custom. Oh! And cancer-causing, so try not to breathe any of the flames. C4 nodded slowly. Noted. I called my knives back and picked up my Wand, reloading it even as I watched my point counter drop for the second time today. Working with mercenaries might have been fun, but it was really cutting into my expenses. We walked past the fallen droids, then paused in the centre of the corridor. Which room now? Titan asked. Ah, sir, all of them are technically the AI, Mouse said. So we need to shut them all down? Titan asked. That seems... lengthy. We didnt bring enough ammo for that, C4 said. The intercom crackled again. Please dont kill me. Im sorry that I have to kill you, but I really dont wish to have to kill you, RAMona said. My heart clenched at RAMona''s words. Even if she was just an AI, hearing her plea was distressing. I glanced at Titan, his face was stern. Mouse didnt seem to care any more than he did, and C4 was ready to blow the place up already. We wont destroy you, RAMona, I said. Im going to find another solution. One thats better. Our jobs to disable to AI, Mouse said. Then... well, we can disable her by moving her, right? Chys turned her head around to look up to me. I have the impression that youre about to suggest something that would be less than normal. I have a great idea, I said. Itll fix everything, or my name isnt Twilight Starwish Radiant Heart Mystic Ember Flame Spirit Charmer! *** Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Six Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Six Magical Girl Mercenary for Hire - Chapter Six >> 2041 >> Continent: North America >> Country: Old New York >> City: Mega City New New York >> 2:22am Class was going to end in twenty-minutes and I couldn''t wait. It wasn''t everyone that went to an in-person school. Actually, I was pretty sure that they were kind of an upper-middle class sort of thing. In any case, my high school was pretty big. It took up the entire floor of the mega building it was in. It had labs, classrooms, washrooms, even a gym. No roof-access though, which was a real shame. So many cool magical girl things happened on the rooftop. It felt like the lack was robbing me of some opportunities to do magical girl things, but I could live with it. Also, the uniforms kinda sucked. We didn''t even have pleated skirts. Instead we all wore these sorta formless jumpsuits with a few logos stitched onto the front and back. They were sorta neat, in a ''sci-fi'' way, but it was like, old sci-fi, from the early 00s, not the cool current sci-fi, with actual aliens and Samurai and stuff. Anyway! I was sitting in my class (one row from the back, in the space furthest from the door. We didn''t have windows, which was another shame), and only mostly paying attention to the screen at the front of the class. The android teacher was standing at attention behind its desk, scanning the students to make sure we all met our screen-time quota on the big screen where a blackboard might have been in one of those really old schools. "Isn''t this boring?" I asked the girl sitting next to me. Patricia (though everyone called her Trisha) glanced at me, then back at the board. "We need to pay attention," she said. I shrugged. Chys has done some things that were probably not very legal to the android a while ago, and to all of the listening devices in the classrooms I had too. I wasn''t a public magical girl, of course. Quantum Pixel AuroraBeam Neon Nightshade Enchantress was my secret identity. No one could know that I was actually just Beatrice Smith in my day-to-day. Blinking, I reached into my backpack and pulled out my secret notebook. Flipping across a few dozen pages covered in doodles and sketches with potential costume ideas, I paused on one page with a list of names and added my latest one to the list. It wasn''t bad. I liked the AuroraBeam part. Maybe I could do more with compound words? "Pst," Patricia said. I glanced up at her only to notice that she was pointing towards the board. "You haven''t looked in a while," she hissed. "Oh, right," I said. "Thanks." "Ah, good, you''re here," the Commander said. "Let''s start, then." The team looked pretty calm, and I felt like this was more of a formality than anything else. Then Commander Caden slammed his hands onto the table and leaned into it. "Can someone please explain to me why the client''s very confidential and very illegal AI is now entirely held within our servers? Not only do I have to explain a mission failure to the client, I now need to double the number of logistics personnel here because our computer network is sentient!" "Ah!" I said. "Sit down." "Okay," I said as I quickly sat in the seat next to Mouse. "So, uh... I thought it was a win-win?" "You thought stealing the client''s AI was a win-win?" he asked. "Yes? I didn''t want to kill her, and it was illegal for them to have her anyway, right? RAMona will be much happier here, I''m sure! Commander Caden''s face turned a shade of red that, honestly, I hadn''t known was possible for him. "Beatrice," he began, his voice dripping with that kind of restrained anger that''s somehow scarier than shouting, "Do you have any idea of the potential consequences of what you''ve done?" I shrugged, trying to play it cool. I wasn''t supposed to be afraid, I was a magical girl! "Well, I figured since they were doing something illegal, we could, you know, help RAMona. It''s kind of a win-win, right? They lose their illegal AI, and we gain a new friend!" Mouse might have felt bad for me, because she raised a hand. "We completed the primary objective, sir. The client wanted the threat neutralised. It is. I went over the contract with a Legal-LM, and we''re not in breach." The Commander didn''t look impressed. "We might get away with it. Maybe. This type of move would be very typical of the average mercenary group, using all the leash they were given to grab everything they can. But we''re supposed to be better than that." I winced. "I''m sorry," I said. "It was a judgement call, and I thought I was doing the right thing. I''ll make sure to consult the team next time" "Titan. How did the mission go?" "Well, sir. We could have used more data on the... adversary''s capabilities, but otherwise... no losses, no big spends other than some ammunition. My whole team came back in one piece. I can''t complain, sir." "And our little Samurai? Was she worth the trouble?" Titan glanced at me, and I had to fight not to fidget under his stare. I didn''t though, because I was a magical girl in-costume, and a magical girl didn''t fidget unless she was around her crush or someone was being very gay nearby. "She''s alright." "Hmph," Commander Caden said. "Well, I supposed this could have been worse." *** Magical Girl Mercenary For Hire - One Magical Girl Mercenary For Hire - Chapter One Chapter One >> 2041 >> Continent: North America >> Country: Old New York >> City: Mega City New New York >> 12:49am The room past the entrance way was, unsurprisingly, another lobby. This was a very small one, though, with a long counter with a pair of secretaries behind it, and a corridor to either side. I saw some offices further in, a bunch of cubicles taking up a room, the other side just had a turn further in and a couple of doors with little placards next to them. Miss? one of the secretaries said. He was a guy secretary, a big muscled guy that didnt seem to fit into his button-up shirt very well. Hello miss, Im Timothy Jortfull. Security out front said that you needed our services? I blinked. I hadnt said anything like that to the security guy out front. Then again, I suppose it made some sense. When you walk into a store youre usually there to buy stuff, not to come asking for a job. Im sorry, Mister Jortfull, but I think you have it wrong. Its not your fault, I just didnt know if that was the right entrance to take for what Im looking for. Mister Jortfull stood a little taller at that. Oh, of course. This is the entrance for customers. Theres only one other entrance. For employees. I dont think you should come in from that one. He smiled. hoping that I can soon, I said with my best idol smile. Mister Jortfulls smile looked a bit fixed. If... you wish? he said. Wed rather that than coming in from the walls. I frowned. Why would I come in through the walls? I mean, I could come in through the windows, I guess. Were on the seventy-sixth floor. I know... I took the elevator here. I shook my head. This conversation was weird, and getting weirder. Alright, look Mister Jortless, maybe you can help me? Thats what Im here for, he said. Great! Id like one job application, please. You want a job application? But our applications are online, he said. Oops. The man blinked. Im Commander Caden Carpenter. Id rather you didnt call me... Daddy. Okay, sir, I said while working very hard to suppress the redness climbing up my cheeks. My name is Magic Muffin Cosmic Giggle Princess. Im a magical girl ready to fight for love and justice! I... see. Well, Miss Magic Muffin Cosmic Giggle Princess, how can the Wraith Rangers help you? I need work, I said. Fighting for love and justice is great, but there arent any aliens to blow up right now, and so I thought Id ask if you needed any help? You want a job, he said. His eyes went distant for a moment, then he nodded. I think we can arrange that. What are your specialities? What kind of work are you looking to do? And you understand what kind of work wed ask of you? My speciality is bringing a smile to the face of the downtrodden and also mid-ranged high-impact assaults. I shook my head. And I just need a job on the side, I ah, dont really know how you can help me with that. Honestly, it was a lot of brainstorming that brought me here, but I didnt have too much time to think about it. Commander Carpenter leaned back against his desk, arms crossed. I felt like I was being weighted with the way he was looking at me. The Wraith Rangers mostly focus on anti-xeno operations whenever theres an incursion along the east coast. Well do clean-up as well. But those jobs arent constant. The rest of the time we split our attention between security work, which means long hours and low pay, and special jobs, which are usually short and dangerous. I think Ill go with the short and dangerous ones, I said. I have school during the week, so this is more of a part time thing. The commander nodded slowly. This is the first time wed work directly with a samurai, but Ive heard what its like from others. Frankly speaking, Miss Magic Muffin Cosmic Giggle Princess, samurai have a rep for being nightmares to work with, but other companies put up with it because its usually worth it in the end. Oh, I said. Well, Im hoping that we both profit from it, if thats what you mean. I dont want to be troublesome. Hmm, he hmmed. Alright. I think we can work with that. Are you free tomorrow? Tomorrow was Sunday, which was one of my days off. Yeah, I can manage. Probably not all day, but for a chunk of it, sure. He nodded again. Good. Lets call tomorrow a test, then. We have a medium-priority job tomorrow within New New York, in the destroyed part of the city. Ill email you the details. Do you have good decryption software? Yup! Whats the job? Were not like... killing innocents or like, hurting nice people, right? That kind of work pays well, but we dont take it. My Rangers started as Us Army rangers. We still act to serve the citizens of whatever country were in. No strikebreaking, no extortion work. This job is closer to what were made for; recon in force. Okay, I said. I can work with that. Send me the details and Ill be there! Good. Youll be with one of my most experienced teams. Theres a rogue AI to hunt down out there. Were being paid to take it out. *** Somnus Deus Ex - One Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter One Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter One Daisy stifled a yawn. System Initialized! Congratulations. Through your actions you have proven yourself worthy of becoming one of the Vanguard, a defender of humanity. I am Lynus. I will assist you to uplift humanity so that you may defend your homeworld from the Antithesis threat! Rise, Daisy Moon, and become a protector of the weak! "Seriously?" Daisy asked. She shifted on the spot, very much aware of the way her slippers stuck to the carpet and squelched disgustingly underfoot. Her pyjamas were covered in a heavy splatter of greenish blood. So were the walls, and some of the ceiling. Hello, Daisy! Daisy opted to ignore the voice in her head for now. Instead, she turned and walked deeper into her home. It was a nice place. Her dad''s. He had one of those weird paper-pusher jobs that paid better than it should, and which came with a nice apartment on the upper third of a mega building. It even had windows, and her own room. She walked out of the entrance lobby, past the open-plan kitchen-living room, and into her dad''s office. The gun safe was open, though the gun that was meant to be in it was currently cradled in her arms. Flipping the shotgun over, Daisy reached into a small box and removed a pair of shells. She slipped them into the loading port at the bottom of the gun, then fit two more in. Daisy paused. The next bit was usually something she''d ask her augs to search for her. But now... "Do I need to pump it?" she asked. That model of shotgun has room for four shells in the tube, and one in the chamber. The chamber is currently empty. "Okay," Daisy said. She pumped the gun, then shoved another round in. She considered taking the box, or a few shells, but her silken pyjamas had no pockets, so she shrugged and left the room. "Daisy! Daisy?" her dad asked. He was in his room, the door open just a crack. "Sweetie, are you okay? I heard shots." "Go back to work," she said. "It''s nothing." "Oh... okay sweetie." The door shut with an audible click, and Daisy slid past. The entrance hall had a pair of corpses blocking it. Large, dog-like monsters, with black fur and green blood. They smelled faintly of turned soil and mud. It wasn''t an unpleasant smell, Daisy found, but it was still annoying. It clung, like the scented stuff spritzed in public washrooms. ViiSiit for latest novels She walked over to the nearest monster, then kicked it in the gut. That moved it enough that, with more effort than she cared to use, she was able to slam the front door shut. Then she pushed the monster''s corpse up against it. Then the second one was rolled closer, effectively barricading the door with a lot of literally dead weight. Daisy yawned again, checked the time--around 10AM, then turned and headed back. Are you going to take this time to decide on what to do? "No. I''m going to shower. Then change into a fresh pair of pyjamas." You... are not going to help? "I''m going back to sleep." Your augmentation''s records suggest that you''ve slept nine hours already before being awakened. That''s not including the four hours you spent in bed watching memes and animal videos. "I''ll try that shampoo stuff," she said. Usually she showered on Saturday night, then again early on Monday. But she supposed that a long shower was relaxing all on its own. The shower was nice. She rolled past the hot water meter, and idly ignored the warning in her augs about her water consumption. Lynus seemed to bat it aside without a care, and the water didn''t even switch to cold to get her to leave. The shampoo smelled like strawberries. Actual strawberries, not the artificial scent of them. She supposed there was some use to being a samurai. "This isn''t so bad," she said as she stepped out, wrapping a towel around her head. There are many reasons why Vanguard go out and try to make a difference. Few of them have been enticed by luxuries, but I suppose it''s not all bad. "Hmm," she hummed. "I''d need a samurai name." The current tradition holds that the first Vanguard a new Vanguard meets names them. With some exceptions, of course. "Nah," she said as she slipped into her pyjama top. It was extremely thick, and soft, and warm, and maybe slightly damp from being in the sauna-like bathroom, but she could live with that. "I''m naming myself, if it comes to that." Does that mean you''ll be acting as a Vanguard? "Still Sunday," she said. I see. Of course. I don''t suppose technicalities like time zones would count? "Only if it means that it''s Sunday for longer," Daisy said. Of course. So, you seem to have an idea for a name? She nodded as she slipped back into her room, taking the shotgun with her. She pointed to a small statue above the door. One of the few things she''d added to the room itself, other than the larger bed. She''d insisted, and her father complied because it wasn''t a big deal. It was a greek figure, a man with wings, his eyes closed, his arms fallen by his side. He seemed almost lazy. A small plaque under the figure named him. "Hypnos." "I can''t take his name, of course," Daisy said. "So... well, I always thought that he wasn''t appreciated enough." She nodded. I see. A mythological figure associated with sleep. You want something related to that as a name? "Hmm, how about... Somnus Deus Est?" It had proper gravitas. A name that people could respect, with history, with power. Daisy flopped onto her bed, then writhed her way under the covers. That was enough for today. "We''ll see about all that samurai stuff later," she said. Later? "Tomorrow, Lynus." She yawned. "Tomorrow." You are aware that the incursion is ongoing? "Look, if they come in here, then I''ll take care of them. If they don''t, too bad. Just tell the aliens that they can either respect my time off, of fuck off, yeah?" I''ll be certain to let them know. *** Somnus Deus Ex - Two Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Two Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Two Daisy turned her head and looked at the alarm clock sitting next to her bed. It was battery operated, which was the only reason it still displayed the time. 12:10, in the AM. She almost wanted to cry. It was, in every way that mattered, Monday. With a long-suffering sigh that came from deep, deep within her, Daisy pushed her blankets up. They were heavy, thickly padded things, and the plushies on top only served to make the blankets even harder to raise. Are you well? "Yeah," Daisy said. She slipped her feet into her slippers, then stood. "It''s Monday." I can confirm as much, yes. Daisy very, very reluctantly stood. She adjusted her nightgown, then just stayed where she was, the weight of having to wait a whole six days until the next Sunday pressing down on her. "God damn it," she whispered. Is everything okay? Your hormone levels are consistent with someone grieving. I''ll admit that I''m somewhat concerned. "I''m in mourning. Another Sunday has laid its life on the line and won''t ever be seen again. It''s a tragedy." She shook her head. "Sorry, I''m being melodramatic. It''s just frustrating that I have another week to wait." I probably shouldn''t bring this up, but you know that as a Vanguard, the usual rules don''t truly apply to you. Daisy paused, then shook her head. "No. They still do. The rules don''t apply to powerful samurai. I''m not that. Not yet. But I guess I can work on it." She stretched, a hand raising up as high as she could bring it while she tilted her upper body to one side. "How many points do I have?" One hundred and thirty. Twenty from the two kills you secured. Another ten from your daily allowance. "Okay. How do I spend them?" That depends very much on what you want. What are you looking for? Yo?ur favorite stories at novelhall.com "You''re the expert," she said. "But I''m gonna head out now. So whatever would help?" I see. Do you mind if I look into your media profiles? I can deduce from that the kind of equipment would be best suited for you. Though your actual preferences might be different after actual time spent in the field. "Go nuts," Daisy said. "Can''t imagine I''ll get the good stuff for one-thirty." Stepping out of her room, Daisy picked up her dad''s shotgun and moved it from next to her door to next to her dad''s office. She knocked on the door. "I''m heading out," she said. "What?" came her dad''s tired reply. "I''ll be back in a bit. Don''t worry," Daisy replied before moving on. "The gun''s by your door," she called back. She paused by the entrance, next to the now-decomposing alien corpses, to put on a pair of comfortable walking shoes. Then she had to move the bodies aside. The house was dark, and the corridor outside of their apartment wasn''t much better. The only illumination came from glowing red emergency lights. She kicked both corpses out of her house, then closed the door. The lock didn''t engage, because it was purely electronic, which was more annoying than anything else. "So, where can I find some easy kills?" she asked. The building is on orange alert. The outer edge of the incursion reached this area some hours ago, but was mostly rebutted. You might have to leave the megabuilding complex in order to find a decent number of antithesis. Try heading west. Daisy took a moment to remember which direction was west, then she started that way. The elevators were down, of course, but the power being out didn''t stop the stairs from working. Three floors down, she left the stairwell and started towards the largest open space within the mega building. A large interior park-like space lined by multiple floors of shops and community areas and enough ads to outshine the sun. They glowed, even with the power cut out. From one of the upper floor balconies, Daisy was able to look down upon several hundred people all crammed into the bottom floor. They looked lost. Desperate. People in corpo outfits, the cream of the middle-class crop, all calling out to sweaty security for help. She could very easily imagine her own family down in that press. "Right," she said. "Let''s not go down there. You said west, right? Let''s find a way out of this place. The megabuildings had dozens, hundreds of different exits. Some were bridges across to the next buildings over, others were for cars or service vehicles. There were only four primary exits, though, each leading out into the larger city around them and located at the ''ground'' floor of the building. Those were shut. The heavy bulkhead doors, each weighing several tones, slammed down and unmoving. So Daisy found a convenient walkway a floor above and left through there. The big door was a selling point for the building''s security. She didn''t ever expect it to keep anything determined out, or in. The moment she stepped out into the wider world, Daisy knew something was wrong. The city was burning. There were thick clouds of dark smoke, illuminated from below and rising into the sky like ungodly pillars. The distant crack of gunfire was so frequent that it might as well have been raindrops on tin. Sirens wailed and she could faintly pick out screams. Above, aircraft, helicopters, and hovering cars raced back and forth. She stared for a moment. Are you okay? "Yeah. It''s just... this feels like more of a Monday than usual." *** Somnus Deus Ex - Three Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Three Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Three It only took her a few moments to realise that she had no idea of what to do. Fortunately, that was easily remedied. "Hey, Lynus. Where''s the biggest source of trouble?" I don''t have access to direct communications to any satellite network, or to any non-public network systems. But, from the heatmaps available on open news websites, your home is on the outer edge of the orange zone. There are reports on social media of small groups of antithesis penetrating local mega buildings. "Yeah, but I''m looking for big numbers," Daisy said. She had an eye up to the sky, where a drizzle of rain was starting to fall. She wasn''t sure it would do anything for the massive fires further in. Perhaps smaller numbers are what you should aim for, at least for the moment. She shook her head, tucking her Pillowfriend''s stock against her shoulder. "I don''t do things by halves," she said. I see. In that case, ground level is where you''ll find most adversaries. Head north and east, towards the fires. "Easy enough," she said. It really wasn''t all that easy to get to the ground floor, but she did manage it, taking some emergency exits without a care for the alarms she set off, then crossing over to a smaller building via sky bridge. That building was a commercial centre, no housing, plenty of stores and offices. It had a lot more walkability than her home building, and that made it all the easier to get down to the ground. The streets were a mess. They''d always been a mess, but right then it was worse than usual. Cars were parked along the sides of the road, moved there automatically by their auto-drivers to make room for emergency vehicles to take over the middle of the street. She saw APCs rushing by, mostly heading in the same direction as her. Ambulances were rushing the other way, lights and sirens blaring. The few people she saw out were running, heads low as if that would help them any. Two blocks until you''re at the cordon around the red zone. "Cordon?" she asked. Incursion cordons are a standard operating procedure. A cordon is created around the centre of an incursion and lined with inwards-pointing defences. It keeps the incursion contained. "Ah, alright," Daisy said. She supposed that made sense. The first she saw of the cordon wasn''t the cordon itself, but the road leading up to it. Forklifts were grabbing cars, lifting them up, and pulling them away. It cleared room on the road for the massive tents and temporary buildings going up all along the road. APCs were emptying out troops all over, and the air above was filled with hovering drones. There was a non-stop cackle of loudspeakers as troops talked between each other and orders were relayed. It was chaotic, but chaos that was at once contained and somewhat orderly. Distant cracks of gunshots lead her deeper in. Daisy walked as if she was allowed to be there, and as long as she didn''t step into the way of a tank, she figured she''d be getting pretty far in before things became troublesome. That''s how she found the wall. It was a temporary thing, obviously. An entire movable wall that had been moved on the back of a pair of semis that were shoved off to one side. The wall had a large gate in its middle, and two stubby towers on the ends. It was some five metres tall, all metal, with a walkway near the top, and a second perimeter made of freshly crushed cars right behind it. What are you looking for? "I''m going to need armour. Better gear." She loked her jaws, then suppressed a winced at a few more gunshots going off nearby. "New ears too. Make self-augmentation a priority, I don''t need tinnitus." "Ma''am," the soldier said. Daisy blinked at them, finally sparing some attention for the soldier. "What?" "We insist that new samurai stay away from the front lines. Please. There are people here to assist you an--" "I don''t need people," Daisy said. She walked past the soldier, starting for the next set of stairs down from the wall. She only paused when she noticed another wave coming. This time she scored three quick kills. It still wasn''t enough, but it was better than nothing. Some assistance might not hurt. "Having to deal with people will," Daisy said. She considered staying on the wall. It seemed relatively safe for the moment. In fact, she paused by the stairs and turned back only to march up to the soldier. "Get me an extension." "What?" "An extension cord. A wire? Something to plug things into? You know what I mean?" The soldier hesitated, then nodded and ran off. Are you going to get help after all? "No. I''m going to make enough points here to get some basics. Then I''m going to head off on my own. How many full-power shots do I have left?" Nineteen. She nodded. "I''m going to need a better gun, too. This one will serve as a holdout in the meantime, I guess." She eyed the space on the other side of the wall. There were people over there. This was a huge chunk of the city that was being cordoned off. Which meant that they were probably only dealing with the few, weaker aliens making it to the edges still. If she wanted the big points, she''d need to dive in deeper. The soldier returned with an extension cable just as Daisy''s gun was running on fumes. She plugged it in to recharge, then appropriated another soldier''s rifle. An hour of this, she decided. She''d hold this wall, upgrade herself and her kit for one hour. And then she''d be moving out, past the cordite-filled air and into the ruins. If she absolutely had to do some work, then she''d do it right. *** Somnus Deus Ex - Four Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Four Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Four Separating herself from the soldiers was almost hard. They didn''t want her to leave. It almost came to blows, because Daisy decided that if these grown-ass men needed a little girl to protect them so much, then maybe they didn''t deserve to be on the front lines after all. She was testing her grip on her pistol when reason, and order from above, finally came through and they let her leave. "How many?" she asked. You have nine hundred and twelve points. Vissit for updates For an hour''s work, that wasn''t too bad. It was mostly from little models, and a few shots she took at some fliers. Her firepower didn''t add too much to what the wall could handle, really. But the soldiers seemed to enjoy the bright actinic flashes of her gun going off and frying aliens from afar. Now she was on the other side of the wall, out in the open. Daisy glanced up over her shoulder and at the wall itself. The soldiers up there were almost impossible to see, especially with the strong lights in front of them. She narrowed her eyes, then took off jogging towards a nearby building. These first few minutes were where she''d be the most vulnerable. "Okay. Here''s the order of things. I need armour. Something light and that''ll let me move." An armoured skinsuit? "Sure," she said. "Make sure it has some pockets." Noted. "Next. Guns. Bigger ones... Actually, scratch that. Can we do cybernetics?" Of course. What are you thinking about? "I want better eyes. I''ll need better lungs. And I want something to heal in case I get hit," Daisy said. "In that order." That''ll start to cost a lot. Especially if you still want weapons and armour. She considered it, then nodded. "Eyes first. And... can we do something to let me control things with my mind?" Yes. That''ll be costly, however, but I''m certain we can fit it into your budget. Perhaps wait on the lungs? "Alright," Daisy said as she slipped into a building. It was some sort of office space, with the walls torn off the front which gave her plenty of access to the interior. She crouched a little as she ran. The first washroom she found past the lobby was good enough, she figured, even if the lights were off within. The emergency light over the door cast everything in a deep, unsightly red, but it was enough to see by. Alright! Let''s start with that suit. Here are some options. Daisy found herself looking at a small screen with several suits on it. A flick down of her eyes let her scroll down, and down... and down. "How many are here?" she asked. Each suit looked like a form-fitting uniform. Some looked like they were painted on... specifically, painted on a very precise image of herself. She glanced down at her belly. She was thin. She took all the meds to stay that way, and her extracurriculars were generally pretty physically demanding, enough to keep her fit. Her diet was pretty careful too... except for on Sundays. There was a tiny bit of a ponch on her belly, one that she''d never been that self-conscious about until she had to look at a thousand images of herself in a suit of armour that made diving suits look baggy. "Maybe something a little bit armoured?" she asked. "Then give me something to heal," Daisy said. She walked over to the sink and tested it. There was water. She started opening drawers, but found no paper towels, so she kicked open a toilet paper dispenser and grabbed one of the fresher rolls within. "What am I getting here?" she asked. An infection, if you plan on using that to assist you with any sort of eye extraction. Daisy sighed. She hated it when adults stood between her and the most effective path to something. She''d hoped her AI, at least, wouldn''t be the same. "Fine. I guess twenty points isn''t much." Thank you. It''ll be significantly less traumatic. "I don''t have time for trauma," Daisy said. Not even on Sundays? "Why would I waste a Sunday on being traumatised?" she asked. I see. If you''re going through with this... the control system you spoke of earlier. I was going to suggest an electro-impulse detection rig. A system placed over your scalp, or within, that detects patterns of thought and translates them into usable data. "Oh," Daisy said. "I was imagining an implant." I figured as much. That''ll be... another operation. But if you''re going to rip your eyes out of your skull you might as well use the hole. "Reasonable," Daisy said. No... no I don''t think it is. But I''m not going to stop you either. Let me tally everything up. In the meantime, please describe what you''re looking for in your new eyes? "Range, colour-accuracy, low-light vision, better interfacing with my augs. Or... I suppose I should get new augs outright." I can fold those into the interface you''re looking for. Speaking of which, why are you looking into that kind of interface? "I want to control guns with my mind," Daisy said. "Big ones. That float." I... see. I think I can get something like that to work. This will likely drain all of your points, however. You might have to wait on the new weapons and other equipment you want and need. "Well, I''m in the right place for making more points, aren''t I?" Daisy asked. "Let''s aim for stuff that''s good enough that I won''t have to replace it. I don''t want to rip my eyes out twice in one day." Lynus didn''t seem to have anything to say about that. "I meant, like, twice... twice, because I have two." Yes, I understood the maths and the meaning, thank you. "Alright," Daisy said with a shrug. In the end, the AI''s suggestions were far from what Daisy wanted, but weren''t all that bad all the same. A small, discardable machine she could place on the bathroom''s counter to do the surgery, some medication, a single eye, and a very nice, rather expensive, new augmentation that would slowly map out her brain and create a branching sense of proprioception and motion for her to control. Similar things were on the market already, for people with purely cybernetic limbs, or people operating tanks and aircraft. This would be the same, but a little better. She''d keep mum about it, she decided, because having a lot of wires in one''s brain seemed like a private matter. The one eye replaced her right. She didn''t like the feel of it. Not that it hurt, but it was wrong to only have one eye be upgraded. In fact... it made her question the rest of herself. "Weapons next," she said as she picked up her Pillowfriend and checked its charge. "Then the second eye, ears, and lungs. By the end of the day I want to be able to hunt bigger game." *** Somnus Deus Ex - Five Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Five Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Five Daisy wasn''t... quite satisfied with what she had. The armour she''d bought was fantastic. She could admit to that much as she stared at her image in the bathroom mirror. She looked like a samurai. Someone riding the technological edge, more than human. She had never been a big fan of samurai stuff in general. She saw it the same way others saw sports fans who gushed about their favourite teams, or gamers who liked one game a little too much. It was, to use a word from her dad''s generation, a bit cringe. Still, samurai were real in a way that sports and such weren''t, and now she looked like one. The suit made her look lethal. But she didn''t feel lethal beneath it. She had one eye that was brand new. Its weight was ever so slightly off, and when she looked around the room, things were in a strange contrast. Her flesh eye unable to make out the faint details hidden in shadows that her cybernetic eye could see in perfect clarity. Her flesh eye had to focus. Her new one was focused on everything in its range, all at once. It was sharp. Almost painfully so. That was it. One tiny bit of her that was better than anyone else. It wasn''t enough. How are you feeling? "Alright," Daisy said. She adjusted her grip on her Pillowfriend. "I want more points." That''s a reasonable desire for a Vanguard. Fortunately, you''re in the right place for it. Though you should be aware that once this incursion is cleared out, making more points may take some time. "Right. Plan for scarcity," Daisy replied with a nod. It made perfect sense to her. She was vaguely aware that she''d be receiving some daily allotment of points as well, but those were a pittance. Certainly not enough to get what she wanted. "Where''s the biggest source of action?" Two blocks away from your current position is a team consisting of several soldiers currently on retreat. It''s not the largest source of action, but it''s close. She hummed, then with a shrug, abandoned the washroom. Lynus had provided her with a small in-aug minigame that she could play. It was very simple. A sort of Simon-says game where she had to repeat a sequence. The sequence was made up of arrows and colours. The trick was that she had to hit them using the new neural mesh they''d just installed. It was giving her a low-level headache, trying to think hard about ''up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right,'' while doing other things. It was a way to split her attention that she wasn''t honestly sure she could keep up, but her AI assured her that it would become easier as she went along. Stepping out of the building she was in, Daisy found herself looking at the wall again. It was much clearer now, thanks to her new eye. It compensated nearly for the glare of the floodlights, and she could make out individual faces. She couldn''t wait to have two. "Mark this location for me," she said. Done. "Bad how?" Daisy asked. "Harder to make points with?" She took another shot, nailing a model three in the eye and killing it with only that one strike. She made note to aim for the eyes in the future, to save on charge. The antithesis rarely operate intelligently unless directed. There are only a few models that can do tactical thinking of this sort. None of them are models you''re necessarily ready to handle. "Worse case?" Daisy asked. A model twenty-seven. That is unlikely. You''re far more likely in the influence range of a model seventeen. You''re going to need to look out for model sevens. "Shit," Daisy said as she glanced back at the refugees. How many of them were infected? She hopped down from her position, then gestured one of the soldiers closer. "Who''s in charge here?" she asked. The soldier pointed to another with some stripes on their back and shoulders. The antithesis didn''t pick out officers, there was no reason to hide who was in charge. Daisy ran over to him, and the overworked, clearly tired man turned her way. "Yes?" he asked. "We''re evacuating." "We''re not done pulling people from the rubble," he said. "We''re moving anyway," Daisy said. Those left behind would feed the hive. It was better than losing those they''d saved. "Once you get to the wall, quarantine everyone. There are model sevens here." "Shit," he swore, but noticeably, he didn''t argue. Daisy nodded, then glanced back at the refugees. "Stay back, or escort," she muttered. Only one of those would feed her the points she wanted. "Tell me everything I need to know about that model seventeen," Daisy demanded. They''re relatively small models, smaller even than model threes, with an exceptionally tough carapace lined by eyes. The model is able to lay small eggs that almost immediately hatch into worms, including the model sevens so commonly worried about. They also create small worms that can lay down silken communication lines, and models similar to model sevens which are given to weaker models to assist them in coordinating. "So it''s small and easy to kill?" Daisy asked. And worth a number of points. But they''re unlikely to be loud, or visible. "That can''t be that hard to fix," Daisy replied. She liked having a target. *** Somnus Deus Ex - Six Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Six Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Six Daisy very rapidly discovered that she had no talent for sussing out aliens who weren''t charging at her headlong. She watched from a slight rise in the ruins as the soldiers gathered up the civilians that could still walk into a single group. There was a heart-warming amount of camaraderie. The stronger helped to carry the weaker. Stretchers were made from spare coats and clothes and some boards or rebar. They probably wouldn''t last, but they didn''t need to. More were carried on backs or given a shoulder to lean on before the entire group started to shamble off. They were moving at a slow, shuffling speed that made Daisy''s teeth grind. "I can''t decide what''s worse. Not seeing the enemy, or seeing so many injured moving around like that." I would hope that it''s the latter. Daisy considered it, then nodded. The injured bothered her more. She felt a tiny inkling of guilt at not being able to help more. Worse, she had made them move on, which meant that some people that could have been saved wouldn''t be, all because of her order. She decided not to dwell on it. If she killed the aliens, then real help could arrive. The injured and stuck would have to wait, just a little while. "Lynus, can you contact the soldier''s... commanders?" I can. "Tell them that we need more people here. And to meet the evacuees mid-way. Also, tell them that some of them might be infected with model sevens. I expect quarantine before any other solution." She''d heard stories about entire groups being gunned down because there wasn''t time to discover who was infected and who wasn''t. "Alright," Daisy said as she shook off her stray thoughts. She had managed to kill a couple of weaker aliens, and her point total was... not looking great, but not awful at the same time. "I need to find that model seventeen. Lynus, I think it''s time for a drone." Understood. What are you looking for? "Just something that can see for me. Its vision can be relayed back to me. Something that can fly?" I see. If you''re going to invest in that direction, then a small very specialised catalogue might not be a poor idea. It will unlock a good selection for you to pick from. She frowned, but nodded. Her goal had been to upgrade her gun next. The Pillowfriend wasn''t bad, but it wasn''t great either. As a secondary option it would probably be fine, but she needed something... better as a primary. Still, needs must, and she wasn''t going to beat around the bush with this. She went over her options with Lynus, dismissing some ideas quickly before falling on a drone she wanted and a catalogue that could provide it for cheap. Catalogue unlocked: Light Data-Gathering Drones Points reduced to: 20 Drone unlock: Sleepy Eye Drone Daisy took in the scene in an instant, already aware of who was where thanks to her drone. Then she started firing. A dozen shots later, and the aliens were dead. There wasn''t any fanfare. The survivors, panting, bleeding, looking as if they weren''t at their best, turned to her like a saviour. She pointed them back the way she came. "I''m here on a hunt," she said as she walked over to one of the alien corpses. "You''re all alive. You''ll stay that way if you get out of the area." "C-can''t you help us?" one of them asked. "No," she said. Right now, she had no points to spare, and stopping to help them get to safety would mean putting others at risk. The math was simple. Getting stronger now meant better results which meant more lives saved. She didn''t like the looks she received, so she moved on, but not before stopping at one of the corpses. "How can I tell if this is a controlled alien?" Look for an incision at the back of the model three''s head, under its carapace. She tilted the alien''s head forward with a boot, then frowned. There was a cut there. A shot from her Pillowfriend opened it up, revealing a long worm, its body split apart to send tiny root-like feelers through the alien''s skull. "So, that''s the model seventeen''s worm?" Yes. It''s well planted as well. At a guess, this model three was infected some two to three hours ago. Daisy looked about, both with her own eyes and the drone above. "So, where''s the alien, then?" If you keep moving and keep killing, it will find you. "I don''t like the way you phrased that," she replied. "I want to find it, not the other way around." With your current tools, that might be difficult. The model seventeen will certainly create an ambush for you if you''re disruptive enough, however. I... am uncertain of your chances in case of a strong ambush. Daisy didn''t like it. If she was going to fight, then she wanted it to be on her terms. But then... if she knew that she was going to be ambushed, and prepared for it, then there wasn''t that much of a difference, was there? "Let''s keep moving, and keep preparing. By the time that ambush starts, we''ll be ready for it." *** Somnus Deus Ex - Seven Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Seven Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Seven She was not ready for it. Daisy grit her teeth and kicked out ahead of her. Her foot landed in the face of a hungry model three, stalling its advance for a moment, but also throwing her back. She hissed as she landed kidney-first on some rubble. The suit helped. It spread the damage out across her lower back. It hurt anyway. Still, that kick had earned her a few seconds. Enough to get her weapon trained on the alien. She pulled the trigger. A pair of anaemic beams shot out, frying alien flesh and cutting across its face and head. The model three, already a little dazed from her kick, growled and shook its head. One of its eyes was burned out, but the other locked onto her and she imagined that it wasn''t all that happy. "Oh, get over yourself," Daisy grunted as the alien leapt for her. Models three were not smart. It kept its mouth wide open and practically choked on her Pillowfriend as she shoved the gun into its throat. A pull of the trigger later, and the alien''s body went loose. Daisy ripped the gun back, then pushed herself to her feet. Without taking any time to wait, she ran forwards and into the first cover she found--the interior of a small boutique in the building across the street from where she''d started and where she''d been thoroughly ambushed. The counter-ambush had gone poorly. She had tracked the location where she thought the model seventeen was hiding, and had even maybe seen it from above with her Sleepy Eye drone. She approached it, and was utterly unsurprised when she was jumped by a few model threes. The tentacled model was an unwelcome addition, but she''d taken it down with a few shots. The big, tanky model that rammed through a still-standing wall and which sent her sprawling had been an even worse surprise. Fortunately, the ambush occurred on the far side of the toppled megabuilding. She had a decently clear road out of the area. It meant running while being chased, but the ruins provided cover, and she was able to land a few hits on the aliens following her, and could chart a path from above. That was, until a flying alien swept her drone away and she lost contact with it. Then she started running into model threes clearly on the hunt. She didn''t doubt that they had heard her most recent kill, or noticed the flash of her laser rifle. This bit of cover she had now was temporary, at best. Diving deeper into the boutique, Daisy shouldered a back door open, then pushed into a small office space. It was a dead end. The shop didn''t have a backdoor, or a way out except for the front. "Shit," she muttered. Then, because she wasn''t a fool, she went quiet and closed the door she''d just broken open and pulled some boxes to lean against it. Then it was into the office further in. Daisy knew herself. She''d done gymnastics and sports of one sort or another her entire life. She knew that with five minutes to rest, her heart-rate would be down to something more reasonable. A dark, unlit office in what seemed like a boutique that sold cosmetic cyberware wasn''t the greatest spot for rest, but it was better than out there with the aliens. Are you alright? "I''ll be fine," Daisy muttered. "Points?" "I''ll be fine," she said. "Let''s go kill that model seventeen. Then I''m retreating back towards the wall. I want that second eye in, and a few more easy points." Certainly. Daisy tore the door open, then closed one eye before taking a trio of shots. It took that many to hit the one other alien in the shop. "Fucking depth perception" she muttered. Foul language was unbecoming of her, she thought, but at the moment she felt as though it might be somewhat warranted. "Nevermind, I need both eyes," she relented. A few moments later, she slipped back onto the street with a pair of glasses on. She regretted the lack of oversight from a drone almost immediately. But, on the bright side, she wouldn''t have to go find the model seventeen. It had found her instead. Daisy backpedalled into cover, but it was too late, she''d been seen. The ruins and wreckage strewn across the road were covered in aliens. Mostly smaller models, with a sprinkling of larger ones. And they were all heading her way. In the middle of it all, sitting atop a mound of rubble, was an alien with a thick carapace and a tiny head. It was squat, smaller than the model threes around it, though it was a little wider. It was also looking her way. Dozens of thin lines were linked to its carapace, several of them spread out to the nearby aliens around it. The model seventeen, and it had brought a small army. Daisy didn''t waste any time, because she knew she had little. She snapped a few shots off towards the bigger aliens on the road, a trio crashing into a model five, a few into a tentacled model four. Enough to kill them, or at least injure them while they were out in the open and not up in her face. Then the aliens swarmed. Daisy continued backing up, but she didn''t rush it. The last thing she needed to do was to trip. She took careful, even shots. She was aiming quick and firing quick, but not wasting her attacks. Efficiency was paramount at the moment. But it wasn''t going to be enough. She didn''t need to be great at math to tell that there were more aliens than she could handle. Part of her was trying to think of what to say, what to ask Lynus to provide, but she wasn''t sure. Another part of her was berating herself for not thinking this far ahead. Then, out of nowhere, there was a sudden rain of bolts. Metre-long metallic bars plunged out of the sky, skewering aliens through and scattering across the entire street. Daisy paused, but only for a moment. The intervention had helped, but some still lived, and she wasn''t going to let some points go just because someone chose to save her. There was only so much merit in gratitude. *** Somnus Deus Ex - Eight Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Eight Somnus Deus Ex - Chapter Eight Daisy fired at the model seventeen, then paused. The alien was still alive. She frowned, then fired again, then again. It took four concentrated shots on one spot of its shell to break into the softer meat beneath and cook the alien from the inside. She did get her kill notification though, as well as a somewhat underwhelming fifty points. The area stilled, no longer lit by the flashing red strobes of her laser. The only sound, other than distant wails and the tortured crumbling of fallen buildings, was the hiss of antithesis flesh cooked by her concentrated beam fire. Some two dozen lay dead around her, killed by her own hand. Three times as many were skewered through by shiny metallic bolts. "Not bad, kiddo," someone said. Daisy spun, levelling her rifle in the direction of the voice before she thought better of it and turned the business end of the rifle away. Not so much that she couldn''t twitch it back on target, but... most antithesis wouldn''t start a conversation with her. A man was standing atop the rubble. She couldn''t see him well, not until he hopped down, bouncing from outcropping to broken cement wall, until he finally landed on the street level some ways ahead of her. He was, she decided, either a samurai, or an idiot. "Is that a bow?" she asked. The guy turned, then raised his weapon. It looked like a bow. A rather long one, with pulleys on either end and a complex sight by the middle. The design was sleek, however, and it was clear that it wasn''t some off-the-shelf product. That was a samurai''s bow. If a samurai had to stoop so low as to use one. He seemed suited to it, however. A tall man, wearing light armour. He had a sort of jump-pack on, which Daisy immediately flagged as a future purchase. His helmet was angular and sharp, but left his face exposed. It was all coloured a deep, darkish grey, with solid green lines of neon running through it. "It is a bow, yeah," he said with a smile that lit up his whole face. "That''s what I fight with, when I can." She decided that maybe he was both a samurai and an idiot. "I feel like you''re giving me a look. Are you giving me a look?" he asked. "I might be," she replied. Yo?ur favorite stories at novelhall.com "Great, great. Judgement from the pipsqueak." "Lasers move faster than arrows. Just putting that out there." Bow-guy backed up a step. "Hey there. I was just stopping by to help. You looked like you were in over your head." "I might have survived," Daisy said. "And if I did, I''d likely be better off than I am now." "Wow... you''re kinda hardcore, huh?" he asked. Stepping back, the samurai took a seat on a pile of stones. "Name''s Longbow. My AI says you don''t have a proper name yet. And that you''re pretty new." "Nah, I feel guilty. Oh, you probably still only have crap catalogues, right? What are you specialising in?" "I haven''t determined that, yet," she replied. "But, ideally, I want to be away from the fighting when it happens." "Oh, that''s a tough one," he said. "I mean, I get it. I''ve got some turret emplacements here and there, they work, but the point-penalties for at-range stuff is a pain to deal with. Trust me." "I... see," she replied. She hadn''t been entirely aware of that. "So using drones is useless?" "It''s not so bad if you''re controlling them directly, one at a time. AI-controlled stuff barely pays for itself, and only if you keep it running for a long time. Trust me, sometimes I wish I could clone myself so that I could be in more than one place at the same time, keeping people safe and earning my way to better gear." "You mean like cloning yourself?" Daisy asked. That seemed like a reasonable thing to want. "I guess. So... you have a drone catalogue? Here, lemme..." A box appeared by Longbow''s feet, and he grinned as he picked it up and tossed it underhand towards her. She caught it, then opened it, trusting that it wouldn''t be anything dangerous to her. It wasn''t. Within was a sleek, teardrop-shaped machine with a bow and arrow logo on its back. It was all matte grey and neon greens, Longbow''s colours, but her augs linked up to it instantly and she could feel it asking for permission to be controlled by her interface. "What is this?" she asked. "A better drone! Worth about as much as the points you''d have made. It''s got a little laser gun in it. You can have all the points it makes, and hopefully it''ll keep you safe enough." Daisy was a little moved. A little. "Thank you," she said. "No problem, little sis," he said. "Stop calling me that." "Nope," he said just as easily. Her glare didn''t do anything to stop his grin. "I''m gonna keep moving on. Unless you need anything?" Daisy shook her head. "I''ll manage," she said. A few more points, maybe a few more strays picked out, and she''d have enough to continue her progress on to the next step. "Alright! Keep safe, sis. If you need anything, just gimme a call. Your AI should have my number." He gave her a thumb''s up, then bunched his legs up under himself before leaping forwards. Daisy followed him for a moment, but he quickly flew off. She saw him firing a couple of shots from his bow from way up in the air. "Weirdo," she muttered before looking down at the drone. She wouldn''t use it so easily, of course, not until Lynus reassured her that it was safe. Still, it was a thoughtful gift. What lingered more was the idea he''s casually dropped. "Hey... cloning technology isn''t beyond the protectors, is it?" *** Miss Grasshopper - One Miss Grasshopper - Chapter One Miss Grasshopper - Chapter One Suzette (Sue to everyone but her mom) stepped into the back of the room, then moved to the side. There were thirty-seven students in the classroom, but they didn''t spare her too much attention. All of them, or most of them at least, were focused on the tablets and integrated desk-computers they had. The Quincy Special Education Centre was perhaps one of the most prestigious schools in all of Boston, which was saying something. The mega city had a few thousand schools, and some of the private institutions were quite impressive. There was a reason that this school, Quincy SEC (or Q-SEC), was the best, and it could mostly be traced back to one person. Suzette dreamed of being a teacher ever since... well, it had been a long time. It was something she aspired to from a young age, in any case, and now she was well on her way to becoming just that. A few more months of internship, and she''d be teaching her own classes. Unfortunately, no matter how much she wanted to be a teacher, she knew she''d never be as good as Melanie. The door to the front of the room opened, and the students perked up. Tablets were laid down, screens were returned to their home pages. It was a small miracle that someone could pry their attention away from their screens without even being in the room yet. Then Melanie waltzes in. It wasn''t an exaggeration, the young woman spun into the room with a laugh on her lips and a smile in her eyes. Her dress, this ancient summer dress, far too modest to fit in anywhere, fluttered out around her. It was covered in a pattern of cartoonish bugs and splashes of colour. "Hello everyone!" Melanie said. The children chorused a cacophony of hellos right back. Most of them settled on "Hello Miss Fizz-Snap!" Suzette hugged her own tablet closer to her chest. There was something... magical about Melanie. She didn''t belong in such a dirty, messed up world, and yet here she was. Melanie tapped the board at the front of the room, and like magic, it came on and text scrawled across it in a rainbow hue. "Fraction!" she declared. "They''re not just slices of a pie, but windows into a new world! A world of bits and bobs, broken up to share and admire." These were all special needs kids, Suzette knew. They had comportment issues, or problems keeping focused. She had some classes with them, on occasion, and it was a nightmare to get even half to pay attention. Melanie had each and every one captivated from day one. "Tommy, dear," she said as she tugged a tissue from a sleeve and placed it on the desk of a student near the front. "In our class, we embark on adventures with our minds and hearts, not in our noses." Her wink was a shared secret, and somehow it turned a reprimand into a joke that even Tommy was in on. Suzette laughed with the students, then let out a wistful sigh as Melanie turned her attention to the board. It flicked to a new screen, with colourful explanations of today''s maths lesson, not that Melanie seemed to pay the board any mind. It was an aid, a visual to help the kids that needed to see to understand. Instead, Melanie launched into a story, a silly tale that hid lessons anyway. She asked questions, always to someone who knew the answer, or she''d coax it out of them. In those brief moments, it felt... almost naughty. Melanie would single a kid out, and give them her entire, undivided attention, she''d listen to every word, nod and smile and listen, then she''d guide them to the right answer with a gentle nudge or two. Sue would give a lot to be the centre of that attention. Class was going on as it usually did when Sue received a ping on her augs. Just a little notification in the corner of her vision, but one which was red and flashing. She noticed the way Melanie stiffened for a moment as well. There were only a few things that could poke through her ad-block that way. She made sure she had a good one, after all, and was very careful about permissions. A red flashing warning, one that Melanie received as well... She swallowed and moved to the back of the room, making sure that the door was closed, then she touched her thumb to the electronic handle and swiped right. The safe tucked into the wall behind the desk, with its bio-lock, had real guns. Sue gulped as Melanie casually picked up a folding rifle and placed it on the desk. Then she grabbed a small handgun, still in a sheath, and gave it to Sue. "Just in case." "Right," Sue said. The flashing red alert returned, and she froze up for a moment before Melanie touched her shoulder. "It''ll be okay," Melanie said. She opened the warning, and almost flinched. WALL BREACHED Escort All Students and Staff to Primary Shelter. Remain Calm and Orderly. Melanie clapped her hands together, a big smile returning as if this was nothing at all. "Hey, my little bunnies! Pick up your tablets please. We''re going on a bit of an adventure! Hup hup and hop into a line, just like we practised. That''s right, in alphabetical order. Sue, could you be a dear and unlock the door for us?" She didn''t explain what was going on, but some of the kids seemed to have caught on to the undercurrent of stress anyway. Mostly from Sue, probably. She was feeling twitchier than ever as she rushed to the door and unlocked it. Melanie stepped up to the very front, rifle casually in her arms as if it belonged there as she lead the class out of the room in single-file. Soon enough, Sue followed after, keeping just behind the last student. There were other classes in the corridors. None as organised as Melanie''s... at least, until she got to them. Melanie helped one student to her feet, then gave her a hug and patted her back until she stopped crying. Then she praised another class for being so orderly and neat, her voice carrying through the corridor to other less-neat group who seemed to suddenly snap into their lines. Everything was going well until they reached the bunker. It was a building smack in the middle of the courtyard at the back of the school. A cement lump that opened up to a ramp leading downwards. The entrance had a set of scanners and a door that quickly opened and closed after checking on each student and staff member. Melanie stepped to the side, allowing her group in, then helping others, until, finally, it was only Sue and a few of the staff left. "Are we sure that''s everyone?" Melanie asked, her worry finally showing now that the students were safe. "Everyone that checked in this morning. Not a single student unaccounted for," the gym teacher said. He nodded, then stepped in himself. Sue went next. The door stayed shut. She received another message from the school over their aug-network. Suzette Smith, Intern, Non-Admissable. *** Miss Grasshopper - Two Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Two Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Two Suzette wanted to cry. She could feel the tears coming, stinging her behind her eyes. It wasn''t a nice sensation, but... she felt like it was understandable, at the moment. The nearest shelter to the school was... several blocks away, and it was a public shelter. The sort of place no one wanted to be caught in. There might have been a few others dotted across the city, but those would be private, or owned by the corporation whose building they were hidden within. She wouldn''t have any more luck with those. A hand pressed against her shoulder, and she almost jumped in fright. "Give me a minute," Melanie said. "What?" Suzette asked. Then Melanie turned to some of the other teachers. They were very pointedly not looking at Sue. "Do you have extra magazines? There should be three per gun, right?" "Are you serious?" the English teacher--his name escaped Suzette at the moment--asked. "Very," Melanie said. "And I wouldn''t mind an extra handgun either. Or a rifle. We split what we had already." The teachers seemed reluctant, but they weren''t bad people. Melanie was given one of their rifles, along with a few extra magazines, then an extra handgun and more magazines for that as well. They slipped past Suzette, not meeting her eyes, not looking her way, but still... they knew she was there, otherwise they wouldn''t be going around her so much. Sue took in a deep breath from her nose, and if it was a little sniffly, then that was on her. "Hmm, where can we sit?" Melanie asked as she looked around. Sue turned her way. She had a hand out towards Sue, with a rifle grabbed by its middle. Her purse, which was more of a satchel filled with toys and teaching supplies and a few knick-knacks, was hanging by her hip, filled to the brim with spare ammunition now. "What are you doing?" Sue asked. "Keeping a student safe," Melanie said. She gave Sue a soft smile. "You''re an intern, which means you''re here to learn, which means that I''m your teacher, no? A good teacher doesn''t abandon a student, even if they''re a little troublesome." "No," Sue said. "You can''t stay out here, it''s--" "It''s fine," Melanie said. "They''ll probably not make it this far, and we don''t need to stand out where it''ll be easy for them to get to us if they do make it here." She pointed to the main school building, up at the upper floors. "Oh, Miss Fizz, you... you don''t have to. You''re allowed to be in the shelter." "I did some middle-school teaching for a bit," Melanie said. "But, to be honest, I prefer working with the younger students. They''re so much more receptive. Then again... I guess that''s not fair of me. Middle-schoolers are just discovering themselves. They''re learning who they really are in a way that the younger kids aren''t. I think that might be when they most need the help and guidance that a good teacher and friend can give them." "I suppose," Sue agreed. The lounge was a decently large room, with a few sofas and a long row of windows overlooking the playground. Melanie almost immediately started moving things around, grabbing a sofa by the edge and dragging it towards the doorway. "Let me help," Sue said before she jumped to do just that. "Thank you," Melanie replied. Soon enough, they had the door barricaded, though Sue suspected that if something really wanted in, they could burst through the thin walls. There was a long window on the inside, looking into the corridor just behind. "Alright, let''s settle down, then, huh?" Melanie asked as she pulled up a chair and brought it closer to the window. "Should we open the windows?" Sue asked. "Oh, the latches are decorative. They don''t actually open," Melanie replied. "We''ll have to shoot through them, I''m afraid." That was... typical. Sue grabbed a chair, and settled in next to Melanie. Her heart was still beating hard, though she couldn''t tell if it was the climb or the stress or something else. She sat with a rifle across her lap, feeling tired, wired, and like she wanted to be elsewhere. "I hope the kids are alright," Melanie muttered. Her attention was obviously on the playground below. There were a few vents poking out of the ground next to some of the jungle gyms. Those lead down into the shelter, feeding air to the students. "I hope so too," Sue said. "You, ah, really care, don''t you?" "I do." "How?" Melanie looked at Sue and smiled. It made Sue''s heart ache. Her gaze softened and when she spoke, her voice was gentle, yet firm. "How? Because caring isn''t just a choice, Sue, it''s a commitment. Every day, in little ways, we choose to either care or not. And that choice, it defines us more than anything else. When we see someone in need, when we encounter fear or uncertainty, we have a choice--to turn away or to stand firm and offer a helping hand. I choose to care, to stand, because that''s who I am, and who I believe we all can be." "But, I''m afraid," Sue admitted. Melanie placed a reassuring hand on Suzette''s shoulder. "We''re here, in this moment, facing something terrifying, but we''re not alone. We have each other, and as long as we stand together, there''s always hope." Sue found herself smiling back, at least, until she saw the first dark form slinking along through the playground, on the prowl for something innocent to defile and eat. The Antithesis were here, and Suzette wasn''t sure how Melanie''s hope would stand up to their reality. *** Miss Grasshopper - Three Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Three Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Three Sue held back a scream as the barricade at their door buckled. The desk they''d shoved up against it squealed against the floor as it was pushed back. Attracting the alien''s attention had been... perhaps not the best idea she''d ever had. At the moment, Melanie was crouching behind another desk, using a metal ruler''s tip to pry a bullet out of the barrel of her rifle. "Can you take care of that one?" she asked nicely. "Got it," Sue said. She gingerly crossed the room, her attention split between the doorway and the window overlooking the playground. They hadn''t seen any flying aliens nearby, but she was acutely aware that they existed and that they might come to get them soon enough. The door buckled again, and a long, toothy maw pried itself in between the crack of the doorway and sniffed audibly. Sue levelled her handgun at the alien''s face, firmed up her grip, set her feet quickly, then aimed between the two little posts at the side of the gun until the glowing nub on the end of the barrel and the two posts were all even with the alien''s face. She pulled the trigger, and there was a loud bang, then another, and another. It took three carefully placed shots for the alien to finally pull back, its face punched through in two spots and a third hole pierced through the door just a few centimetres off. "It''s not dead," she said. "These guns fire point-two-five ACP," Melanie said. "They have as much kinetic power as a well-thrown bouncy ball." Sue nodded, then looked at the little gun in her hand. That had been three rounds, which meant that there were nine left before she had to reload. She resisted the temptation to do that right away, she didn''t have many magazines, and she didn''t want to end up with a pocket-full of half-empty ones. And this was definitely a situation that called for avoiding half-empty things. ViiSiit for latest novels "I think it''s bleeding a little," Sue said as she leaned to the side and tried to see out of the crack. There was a glimpse of the alien pulling away and shaking its dog-like head, and some splatters of greenish-black blood. "I don''t know if the aliens can bleed out," Melanie replied. "I mean... I suppose they ought to, if they need blood and you exsanguinate them." "Don''t we have a module on alien biology?" Sue asked. "I think later in the year?" It was strange just how... normal the discussion was. Death was lingering on the other side of the door, but here they were talking about which classes were coming up on their schedule. "It''s near the end of the year, for the eight-graders. But I never really spent much time teaching biology," Melanie said. "I''ve done some substitution work, and I keep up with the material, but... well, maybe I''m a bit of a failure in that respect. It''s hard for me to remember everything if I''m not actively preparing to teach it." "No, I think that''s normal," Sue replied. "It would be hard to remember the entire curriculum. I''m sure we could pull it up." "Sure," Melanie replied. Sue almost jumped out of her own skin as the alien returned, bashing its head into the crack with more force before pulling back. The strike had shoved the desk back a centimetre or so. She leaned back, then pushed against it with a foot, but it was too heavy to move without putting her back into it, and that would mean being far closer to the door than she wanted. It took a bit, but soon enough the two of them were sneaking their way out of the classroom. Sue gingerly stepped over the corpse by the doorway. A model two, if she wasn''t mistaken. She remembered calling them ''Bad Doggies'' in her notes, which was a fairly common name for this kind. She never expected, or wanted, to be this close to one, living or dead. The school was strangely quiet. She''d never heard the school without the constant chatter and squeaking of a dozen shoes, a hundred children talking. Even during the weekend, or after the school was closed, it never quite went away. The hallways had the same sort of silence, an emptiness that felt almost tangible. Sue almost jumped when Melanie''s hand touched her own. The older woman was holding her rifle in her off-hand so that she could hold onto Sue. Sue was reassured, for a moment, before she realized that Melanie''s hand was trembling. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper. "Do you know why I became a teacher?" Melanie asked. Sue shook her head. They stopped at a corner. Sue was holding the pistol, and she peeked around. Nothing. Sue kept glancing at the other teacher, wondering where this was going. After a minute, Melanie spoke. "My mother was a teacher. Not at this school. She was a primary school teacher at a state-funded school. One of the bad ones. She was... good. Great, even. There''s a difference, you know, between a teacher that''s good at teaching, and a teacher who is a great teacher." "I... don''t understand," Sue admitted. "Being good means knowing how to teach. Knowing the material, the best practices, how to reach out to students and help them understand and be prepared," Melanie said. "Being great means more than that. It means caring for your students. My mother was great." "Was," Sue repeated. "She was shot by one of her students. He was troubled, had a hard time with a lot of things, but my mom kept trying to reach out to him. I miss her." "Oh," Sue said. They reached the vice-principal''s office, and Melanie tried the door. It clicked open. "Easy-peasy," she said with a smile that she shared with Sue. She was just opening the door with a crackle that sounded a lot like broken glass being shifted when Sue noticed that there was something wrong. Her brain barely registered what it was before Melanie gasped. Her hand was wrenched away from Sue''s, her rifle went off, tracing bullets along the wall and ceiling and making enough noise that Sue found herself screaming even as she flinched away. When she opened her eyes, she discovered blood and hungry alien eyes. *** Miss Grasshopper - Four Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Four Miss Grasshopper - Chapter Four Sue wasn''t sure how it happened, but some primal part of her acted before her thinking mind caught up. She grabbed Melanie, and pushed her back. Then, with a lack of squeamishness that caught her by surprise a moment later, she wrapped a hand around the squirming alien lodged in the nook of Melanie''s neck and ripped it out. Blood spurted out, and Melanie let out a sigh as she stumbled back and down. Sue was left with an alien in her hand. It flapped a long, skin-covered wing, and its toothy beak opened up as it tried to take a bite out of her. She brought her arm back, then spiked the alien down onto the floor. It crashed there, then spun itself around in a flurry of wings and dangerously clawed little legs. Her handgun came up, and she fired into it until the gun clicked empty. "Sue?" Melanie said. "It''s, it''s okay," she said. Sue was hyperventilating, she realized. They''d had some courses on identifying panic attacks in students, and she couldn''t help but notice that a lot of those same things were happening with her at the moment. She closed her eyes, for just a moment, and recentred herself. There was no noise from aliens rushing over. They were safe. For the moment. Sue opened her eyes, and looked down towards Melanie. "Are you oka--" The words choked in her throat. Melanie was laying in a pool of her own blood. She had a hand pressing down over her neck. Skin was flayed, and Sue felt her stomach churn violently at the sight. "Oh my god," she said as she fell onto her knees next to Melanie. "No, no, we can fix this," she said. Melanie shook her head. "I don''t... I don''t think this is something a band-aid or a kiss can fix." She smiled. Sue blinked quick, hands hovering uselessly. "I, give me a moment!" she begged. Not until the first alien popped its head out from the stairwell before her. She screamed, but it wasn''t fear. It was something a lot worse. Sue brought the gun up and fired. She knew how to aim, even if she had little practice. The first three trigger squeezes ended with three rounds punched into the head of the first alien. The next to blasted holes into the next. Sue didn''t wait for the aliens to charge. She charged them. She was still screaming. The aliens didn''t retreat, but they did die, even as she stumbled after them down the stairwell and down the first flight of stairs. The gun clicked empty, and she scrambled for a moment before changing magazines. The sudden shift in momentum almost cost her as one of those dog-models leapt towards her and swiped for her head. She stumbled back, kicking it in the chest before she found her handgun and emptied it into the monster''s chest. Sue was left sitting there, in a pool of alien blood, halfway down a staircase, panting, empty gun in hand and empty rifle on the floor. The surge of manic energy left her like a balloon popping, and she suddenly found herself crying again. Silently, but persistent. The violence hadn''t plugged the hole, just smoothed it over for a moment. Now it was back, and just as raw. System Initialized! Sue felt her breath catch again. I''m... sorry. My name is Bybyt. Congratulations. Through your actions you have proven yourself worthy of becoming one of the Vanguard, a defender of humanity. Let''s work together to make sure that what happened today doesn''t happen again. Rise, Suezette-- "Grasshopper," she interrupted. "Sorry, I mean. Call me Grasshopper." She smiled. *** The First - One The First - Chapter One The First - Chapter One I''m just a guy, just some dude, trying to make ends meet, trying to get my shit together. Generally disappointed in life, generally on the broke side of things. I''ve got an okay job as an insurance broker. It pays enough. I graduated from college about six years ago. Or is it seven now? I''m twenty-nine, going on thirty. It''s October, so it''ll be my birthday in... six days. I don''t expect to do anything for it. I know, I''ve always known, that shit''s going to hit the fan some day. I think it''s all the news I watch, and the job. There''s nothing like hearing sob stories and seeing people''s lives going to shit all day to crush that last little bit of hope. My job is half to convince people to pay the company more than they should for a service that I''m also paid not to deliver. It''s hard to do this kind of work and not be a cynic, but I figure it could be worse. I could be on the streets. I think things are a little fucked, and I''ve never been sure of what I can do to fix them. But I kind of expected the end to happen... you know, more biblically? Maybe a Chinese nuke? Or climate change will just barrel on past the point of no return, and I''ll die of a heat stroke at the office when corporate decides to cut corners and not turn on the AC one day. I figure that, in reality, I''ll probably go out the same way my uncle and father did. My heart will just... give up one morning. I''m standing in the parking lot just outside. A few of the others have run back inside, they''re afraid, of course. It''s reasonable. I see Peter from Accounts Receivable opening the trunk of his hatchback, pulling out a handgun and starting to swallow it before Eric slaps him behind the head and wrestles the gun away. Yeah, I guess it''s not the time for that. My name is Zane Martinez. Right now, at this very moment, I''m watching as the skies open up and aliens come pouring down onto the city. My first thought was ''wow, this is going to be a lot of work.'' I think that''s kind of sad, but I don''t know if I still have it in me to really feel sad anymore. "We''re so fucked," I mutter. "Shut up, Martinez," Cindy says. She''s hot. And also a cunt. Keeps calling me Zane from Zanesville, as if that''s the funniest joke I haven''t heard a million times. "I mean, what the fuck are those?" I ask as I gesture to the holes in the heavens. There''s tentacles. I... have seen some things that I''m not proud to have watched, the kind of shit that I''ll only watch in Incognito mode. This is not that. These things are huge. If I didn''t have the Cincinnati skyline to help, I might not even be able to put a scale to things. The trunks? Tentacles? The things, they look like they''re as thick around as a bus, and they''re coiling down like someone''s spilled intestines, all wet and pulsating. Has someone ripped god''s guts open over Cincinnati? Why? Cleveland''s just an hour away. Sure, downtown is a half dozen miles away, but I can tell when something''s growing bigger. "Fuck!" I shout, and suddenly, the pod is right there. I swerve to the right as an explosion rocks out just ahead and to my left. It crashed onto the bumper-to-bumper traffic to my left. The damned thing looked like it might have been the size of a car from afar, but now that it''s close, it''s closer to the size of a greyhound, and this one just crushed half a dozen cars. I stop and stare. It''s not smart of me, but traffic''s dead now. A few cars have slipped out of their lanes and no one''s moving anywhere. The big... egg-thing is alive. It''s pulsating, covered in large gel-like sacs on the exterior that squirm, and the tentacles coming out of its rear end are swinging around and slashing out at the air. I don''t know what is going on, exactly, but I know that I don''t want to be here. The egg''s sides opened up, large tubes slipping out of holes like tongues out of a drooling mouth. They open up, swelling as something large passes through, and just like that, the egg gives birth to some large, placenta-covered thing, right there on the street. "Fuck that," I say even as it pumped out another. I almost gun it. My little Toyota''s well insured. I can ram my way past the minivan ahead. But there''s people under that thing. There''s people around it. And even as I watch, one of the things the egg just dropped stands up and takes off at a clumsy trot towards the first kind soul to come out and try to help. It opened a mouth that''s all wrong, and latched onto his face. A moment later the alien pulls its head back, and serrated teeth take half the guy''s face off. "Ah, fuck no," I say. And that''s when I reach back into the space between my seats and grab a tire iron. I always imagined using it to bash some car thief''s face in. This... isn''t that, but not sure it matters at this point. It ain''t right to sit back and do nothing, so I''m going to do something. Just as long as I don''t think about it too much. *** Chapter Twenty-Two - Lazy Pillow Talk Chapter Twenty-Two - Lazy Pillow Talk Chapter Twenty-Two - Lazy Pillow Talk "Just because a Samurai has an impossibly powerful AI at their beck and call does not mean that the impossibly powerful AI is there to do the Samurai''s bidding. They''re kind of smart enough to not care about little human issues." --Three Swipes, 2034 *** So, as it turned out, having whole new nerves made sexy-time with Lucy a whole lot more... intense than usual. Which might have explained why I woke up to find Lucy sitting up against the top of the bed, looking impossibly smug even though her hair was a mess and her new fluffy pyjamas were stretched out. "Good morning," Lucy said. "Or should I say ''oh god oh god'' morning?" "Stooooop," I whined as I turned over and buried my face into Lucy''s stomach. The pyjamas really were sinfully soft. Maybe the new skin helped with that too, or the nerves. In either case, I never said no to the opportunity to rub up against Lucy.Yo?ur favorite stories at novelhall.com "Do you have a long day planned today?" Lucy asked. "No, I''m staying in bed all day," I said. "And tomorrow too, and the day after. In fact, I''m just not leaving." I can see that quickly growing unsanitary. "Shush, Myalis, you''re a key part of this plan," I said. Lucy giggled, which made her abs bounce. Her hand alighted on my head and she started to comb her fingers through my hair. "I don''t think we can stay in bed forever. What will we do for food?" "Order out," I said. "It''s easy. The kittens can carry it to us." Lucy hummed. "Okay, and exercise? We''re going to grow all weak if we stay in bed all day." I turned my head so that I could meet her eyes. "I can think of one or two ways to do cardio in bed," I murmured. Lucy laughed and poked my cheek. "Silly. What about the washroom?" I groaned. "Diapers?" "Ew, Cat, that''s gross," Lucy said. I''m assuming some elaborate system of catheters and a cocktail of medication is unfavourable? "Oh, no, that''s... Myalis, you''re ruining my plans," I said as I spun over. Now my head was on Lucy''s lap. The bed was so big that my feet weren''t even over the edge even though I was parallel to Lucy on it. Good. I don''t want a lazy Vanguard. "Is Myalis being a bully?" Lucy asked. Tell her the truth. Alright, new plan! But first, food. Lucy was already cooking things in the kitchen, humming a happy little tune and shaking her hips from side to side while pre-made omelette mix fried and popped in a pan on the stove. I watched her hips swaying, and the little tail on her pyjamas bounced from side to side for a while before I came up behind her and gave her a hug. "Hungry," I said. "You are so whiny today," she said as she tilted her head back to give me a kiss. "I''m suffering from success," I said. "It''s unbelievably hard." "I bet," she said. "Now scooch, and grab a plate, this is almost done." I grabbed a bowl instead, the superior food receptacle, and gladly accepted the omelette Lucy rolled into the bowl. I poured an unhealthy amount of ketchup on top of it all before digging in. "Plans for the day?" Lucy asked. She sat across from me and I was momentarily distracted by the zipper on the front of her pyjamas being very open. "Yeah, a few things to look into. The clinic downstairs, the sewer situation. Shit that needs to be watched before it falls apart." "Oh, don''t forget the imminent end of the world," Lucy said. "With that Phobos rock." "Oh yeah, that too," I agreed. I hoped that someone had come up with a plan for that already. It kind of felt like it was big enough that it was a problem way out of my jurisdiction. I finished shovelling food into my mouth, then wiped my face clean. "I''m gonna get dressed," I said. "Then... I think I might bully Racoon into coming with? That girl needs a good influence in her life." "And that''s you?" Lucy asked teasingly. "I came out alright." I said with a grin. Of course, as I went to get dressed, I discovered the skinsuit I''d left in the bathroom, still full of... me. That wasn''t going to cut it. Sure, I could clean it, but nothing short of Delilah going at it with her flamethrower would leave that clean enough for me. "Hey, I bought a blueprint for skintight armour, right?" I asked. You did. Specifically for Racoon to armour herself. Right. There''d been some vague plan to make okay-enough armour available for anyone that might need it. "Well, might as well check in on that printer after all. I don''t think I ever had to use it myself, now that I think about it." Rac was still in the printer room when I came in. She blinked and stared at me, then nodded. "Hi," she said. "Hey," I replied. "I need a new set of armour. Are you using the machine?" "I''m... not? I was going to make bullets, but that can wait. Are you just wearing a t-shirt?" "I slept in it," I said. "It''s past noon." "I had a long night?" Maybe convincing Rac that I was put-together enough to serve as a good influence was going to be harder than I had initially expected. *** Chapter Twenty-Three - Dr. Mylais, Medicine AI Chapter Twenty-Three - Dr. Mylais, Medicine AI Chapter Twenty-Three - Dr. Mylais, Medicine AI "The International Air Quality Index, IAQI, or "Yacky", is an internationally accepted standard for the air quality in and around various metropolitan areas across the world. For example, Paris, France has an IAQI of 4.5, whereas Novaya Moskva has an IAQI of 5.1. The pre-Antithesis Chad had an IAQI of 5.2, and the current North African Exclusion Zone has an IAQI of 7.6. In contrast, the Antarctic circle, unaffected by most pollutants and about as pure as air can be on Earth--mostly seeing as how the air pockets in that region come from freshly melting ice!--has an IAQI of 2.1! Pure, fully-filtered air in a medical operating room has an ideal IAQI of 2.0!" --International Air Quality Index brochure, 2054 *** I eyed Rac properly for a minute or so. I''d like to think that I was pretty decent at sniffing out when someone wasn''t in the best of shape. Rac looked... well, not that bad. She''d slept recently, judging by the lack of bags under her eyes. Still, she still looked like she was too thin, and too small for her age. "Have you been eating?" I asked. "Yeah," she said, instantly sounding defensive in a way that told me she wasn''t. Or maybe... "Like, actual food?" Rac crossed her arms. "Coco always made sure that we ate before and after a mission," she said. "She had these disgusting protein-shakes she insisted I drink." Coco, the large gorilla-modded woman who''s crew Rac had joined. There was a lot of past-tense in that whole statement. "Are you still working with her and the others? Spider and... what was that other guy''s name? The one you had a crush on?" "I didn''t have a crush on anyone," she lied. "And it was Garter." "Was?" Rac crossed her arms. "Was." I decided not to poke at that too much, it felt like she might be a bit raw about it still. So instead I walked over to the printer and tapped the touch-screen on the front of it. The printer had a pretty easy UI, with no ads popping up or demands to join some subscription or whatever. It didn''t take much to navigate the menus over to armours, then armoured skinsuits. The problem was when I clicked on one of the options that looked decent and was then prompted to fill in some ''basic'' information. Information like my bust size, waist size, the circumference of my thigh, around my knee, my calf, the length of each leg, the kind of arch on my foot... honestly I just kept scrolling down in growing horror. This was asking for about eighty measurements. "Oh, yeah, it''s like that," Rac said. "I have a measuring tape somewhere." "Why?" I asked "Because it''s not one-size fits all?" Rac asked. "It''s made for one person only." "Damn, bespoke shit huh? Actually, that''s kind of what I''ve gotten used to with Myalis... speaking of which. Myalis, bit creepy to ask, but do you have my measurements?" "It''s too sudden," he complained. "Daniel told me to wear a mask, but I hate those." It could be an after effect of his healing. From the records I have, Nose''s olfactory system had a significant amount of damage, both from his environment, poorly implemented stopgap cures, and from genetic damage caused to him before birth. The nanorepair suite that cured him also likely left his nerves somewhat raw. I nodded as I continued to search for something to eat. How could the fridge be so full and yet so empty at the same time? "Myalis says that it''s because your nose is too new," I said. That is inaccurate. "It''ll probably pass in a bit. Maybe go take some air to burn your new nerve endings?" I would strongly suggest the opposite. The air quality of New Montreal is exceptionally poor. Given time he will likely lose the reflexive sneezing action. It should be fading already. "Actually, scratch that. Just... keep on keeping on, and stop sneezing in people''s faces. Learn to cover up." Nose grumbled, but he didn''t gainsay me about it. "Ah, come on, the others won''t kick you to the curb about it, they''re just being dicks. If they don''t stop you can hire Rac here to kick their asses. She''s a big fancy merc you know? I bet she''d work for food." "I... wouldn''t," she said, very unconvincingly. I grinned as I laid out a healthy breakfast for Rac and she eyed the food as if she was starving and hadn''t eaten in a week. "Let''s see about that. What were your plans for the day, by the by?" "I didn''t have much?" she said, uncertain. "Cool! You can tag along, then." "Is that smart?" she asked. "You''ve got some armour, right? Carry that big gun of yours and get some face covering on and no one will mess with you." "You can''t just go anywhere while armoured and armed," she said. I snorted. "It''s easier to get some places with arms and armour," I said. "But in any case, you''ll be with me. No one will bother you." "Why do you want me to come?" she asked. That actually gave me pause. Did I need Rac to come along? No, not really. In fact, it might slow me down and complicate things, if anything. On the other hand, I wouldn''t mind the company and... I liked Rac. She reminded me of my second favourite person; myself. Only somehow Rac''s situation was even worse, because I at least had Lucy and the other orphans to lean on and give me a purpose, and Rac had nobody. "Just... trust me?" I said. I didn''t have a good reason, really, but it might be good for her anyway. Open some doors, meet some people, maybe give her the contacts and know-how she''d need to do... whatever it was she was aiming for. Something told me that Rac wouldn''t be able to hang around here forever without developing a bit of empathy. Maybe this would get her to finally open up and help others along the way? Or something like that. Honestly, I kind of just wanted company, and bringing Lucy along would be a recipe for disaster. Gomorrah was busy with her own stuff, and the Kittens were mostly too young. Daniel could come, maybe, but I got the impression he was into his own stuff. I nodded, confirming my choice. "Yup! This is gonna be a fun afternoon, trust me," I said. *** Chapter Twenty-Four - The Second Hand Clinic Chapter Twenty-Four - The Second Hand Clinic Chapter Twenty-Four - The Second Hand Clinic "Insurance got you down? Try Insur-Insurance! New from Divided Health Group! Our new Insur-Insurance program kicks in the moment any of your normal insurance programs fail to cover your insurance needs! We cover 100% of legal fees and will do our best to assist you in combating your insurer to get what you paid for!" --Divided Health Group Ad, 2027 *** Once I made sure Rac was fed, took care of Nose''s problem like a champ, and then took five minutes to squeeze into my new skinsuit armour, I was mostly ready to go. I strapped on my Trenchmaker to my thigh, got an armoured coat on--I''d be moving around a lot and power armour was a bit much) and then clipped my sword to my side, in case I needed to be intimidating. "Ready to go?" I asked as I slipped out of the bedroom. "I''ve been ready for an hour," Rac said. She was leaning against a wall, arms crossed and looked frustrated as all hell. "You haven''t told me where we''re going yet." I nodded, then stopped in front of her and looked Rac up and down. She was wearing a patch-covered faux-leather jacket. The kind that wasn''t even trying to hide that it wasn''t made from a dead animal. The patches weren''t to look cool, they were functional. Still, even with the stains and all, the jacket came off as... scrappy. She had shorts on under that, and one of Lucy''s T-shirts. This one with a winking cat face and text that said Strut My Way. I wasn''t even sure what that meant. Under all that, and sticking out to her ankles and wrists, was a skinsuit. The armoured sort, with some light padding on the knees. Big boots too, with a knife stuck into the side of one of them.Vissit for updates Yeah, she looked like a new samurai. If no one poked at her disguise too hard, or questioned her, or tried to hack her augs. "Hey, Myalis, did I ever buy new augs for the Kittens?" I asked aloud. "Should I get a blueprint for that kind of thing?" You did. Your current fabricator won''t be able to produce augmentations. While it can make small-scale circuitry, the level of detail needed to make an augment that fits within a person is beyond the capabilities of the machine. Strictly speaking, it could make augmentations at the level you''d expect to find on the market right now, but it couldn''t make them easily installable the way those you''ve purchased for yourself are. That was too bad. Lucy and I had talked a little last night, and her project in Burlington was somehow still going strong. The city was mostly secured now, with no incidents of aliens showing up to eat anyone in almost three days. Still, the Kittens militia was growing as a sort of community centre type thing. Lucy was making and shipping crap their way whenever she could. Usually one small box of random crap every day. She said it kept them happy, even if there was no way the stuff she sent was more than a drop in the bucket. Now, with the fabricator being used for prosthetics, Rac''s stuff on the side, Lucy''s constant stream of T-shirts and fuzzy pyjamas... Yeah, I had enough pull here to start a small business just printing things full-time. Maybe I could get Daniel and the other kittens in on it too. They''d need jobs at some point. Rac was taking care of it for now, but right now it was just the one machine. "Anyway," I said with a big stretch. "Let''s head out?" "Is that a problem?" I asked. "For insurance, yeah. It is. If you do work on others without insurance accreditation, then they can blacklist you as a non-compliant. Basically, all of your personal insurance costs quadruple because you''re working outside of their ecosystem." "Huh... that''s fucked up. Have you considered pipe bombing that insurance company?" "Several times. But they all do this," she said. "And it makes sense. We''re cutting into their business. Anyway, lots of hobbyists are also blacklisted for breaking DRMs and such. It happens in the hobby." She brought us to a room in the back, clearly someone''s office at some point, but it had been cleared out, with a plastic tarp divider strung up along one wall to keep the blood splatter at bay. A guy was on a reclining seat, breathing deeply through a mask fit onto his face with a little inhaler-like tube on the side, like for asthma. "Is he... knocked out?" "More or less," she said before gesturing to his arm. It ended midway down his lower arm. There was a plastic sleeve, and then a bunch of bare metal doohickies and small contacts. "Your prosthetics are very... plug-and-play? It''s different than what any of us are used to. Easier to install though." "That''s good," I said. "Yeah," she agreed before pulling a box open. I recognized it as one of these from the printer upstairs. The arm within was plain, a bit boring, but it was an arm. And then See-Three broke it. She snapped a fitting apart, then unscrewed another bit with ease, her little articulated armatures undoing a strip of the upper arm just before the elbow. She was left with a little less than half. "See? It''s pretty easy to strip off entire sections until you''re left with what you need. Took a bit of getting used to, but I don''t need to chop off someone''s arm at the shoulder to install one of these. The interface is whatever, but the software is very compatible with just about everything on the market." "So it''s good?" I asked. "It''s alright," she said. "Hardcore body modders will have better, but only because they''ll be looking to get every last half-percent out of their gear. This isn''t as tweakable." "Well, damn. So, how''s everything else going?" She sighed. "Right, let me just tell you." I sensed that I was either in for bad news, or a long ass rant, and I wasn''t sure which one would be worse. *** Glossary: Model Eight Glossary: Model Eight Model Eight? Enemy Classification: Resource Harvester / Low-Threat / Subterranean Transporter Elimination Reward: 5 Points Model Description: Model Eights are massive worm-like entities, ranging in length from 3 to 30 metres. Their mouths are equipped with inward-facing serrated teeth, designed to tunnel through even the toughest substrates. The body is covered with large growths that contain digestive fluids, aiding in the breakdown and transport of organic and inorganic materials. Although not designed for direct combat, Model Eights play a crucial role in the hive''s economy by transporting biomass and smaller models back to the hive''s core, as well as recycling dead models through digestion. Artist interpretation of a Model Eight ? Threat Analysis Report: Model Eight Threat Rating: LowOverview Model Eights serve a vital logistical function within the Antithesis forces, capable of altering landscapes and ensuring the efficient transport and recycling of resources. Their ability to burrow and undermine structures can indirectly lead to significant strategic disadvantages for human forces. Threat Capabilities Resource Transportation: Capable of carrying large amounts of biomass and smaller models within their bodies, Model Eights ensure the continuous supply of materials necessary for the hive''s expansion and sustenance. Structural Undermining: Their ability to tunnel through soil and reinforced foundations can lead to the destabilisation of human defences and infrastructure over time. Recycling Efficiency: By consuming and processing dead models, Model Eights recycle valuable resources, maintaining the hive''s operational capacity even in resource-scarce environments. Survivability and Adaptability: The robust nature of their bodies, combined with their subterranean lifestyle, allows them to survive in various environments and avoid direct confrontation. Strategic Threat Assessment Containment Difficulty:Yo?ur favorite stories at novelhall.com. While not directly confrontational, the structural damage caused by their burrowing can be difficult to detect and mitigate in advance. Military and Civilian Risk: Low. The risk to direct human life is lower unless their burrowing disrupts critical infrastructure or causes unintended collapses. Model Eights have only been documented attacking civilians and military personnel directly in rare instances. Their usual behaviour leads to them avoiding or outright ignoring humans. Potential for Expansion: High. By facilitating the movement and recycling of resources, Model Eights significantly contribute to the hive''s growth and territorial expansion. Implement ground-penetrating radar and other subterranean monitoring technologies to detect and track the movements of Model Eights.Subject: Model Eight Field Behavior Analysis "Recording now. Observing a Model Eight in its natural operational environment provides unique insights into its role within the Antithesis ecosystem. The efficiency with which it navigates underground and processes materials is both fascinating and horrifying. Honestly, it''s nice to be able to study one of these in its natural habitat. It''s only because they worm-like bastard doesn''t seem to want to eat anyone, but still. Can''t wait to dissect this guy once the observational study is done." "The growths covering its body aren''t just for show¡ªeach one houses digestive enzymes capable of breaking down almost any material it consumes. This not only recycles dead models but also prepares the ground for further hive expansion. It can eat through concrete and bare metals as well, though with some difficulty." "Its movements are surprisingly quiet for its size, a testament to its design for stealth and efficiency. The implications for human infrastructure are significant; unnoticed, a Model Eight could undermine key facilities, leading to catastrophic failures. Big peaceful lump that it is, this guy''s still a threat." - Diggers - Earthworms - Recycling Worms - Burrowers - Hive Carriers Addendum M8-3: Research into the digestive fluids of Model Eights has revealed potential applications in waste processing and materials recovery, although the practical implementation of such technologies remains a significant challenge. Addendum M8-4: Note from [][][][][][][], on [][]/[]/[][][][] The strategic importance of Model Eights in supporting the hive''s operations cannot be overstated. Efforts to disrupt their activities should be prioritised to slow hive expansion and resource acquisition. Suggestion: Allow troops to carry one (1) remote detonated pre-packaged brick of a high-explosive for Model Eight termination. As noted in previous reports, Model Eights are not defensive in nature. Standard pistol calibre rounds (9x19mm, 5.7x28mm) are capable of penetrating. Larger calibres that are standard (such as the 7.52x51mm Hi Caliber) can even over-penetrate to a large degree. However, it may, in some situations, take more ammunition than a soldier is equipped with to terminate a single Model Eight. Such a low-ranking threat should not use as much munitions to be eliminated. Addendum M8-5:Operational Incident Report: Collapse of Fort Harrison Date: 01-05-2029 Incident Summary: Fort Harrison, a critical supply depot located near a known Antithesis hotspot, experienced sudden structural failure leading to significant material loss and casualties. Subsequent investigations revealed extensive tunnelling beneath the fort''s foundations, characteristic of Model Eight activity. This incident underscores the strategic threat posed by Model Eights, highlighting their ability to disrupt military operations indirectly through their burrowing activities. Addendum M8-6: Experimental Defensive Strategy: Sonic Deterrence Following the Fort Harrison incident, military engineers have begun testing a new defensive measure against Model Eight incursions: sonic deterrence. Preliminary tests involve the use of low-frequency vibrations, projected into the ground to create an uncomfortable environment for Model Eights, potentially discouraging them from burrowing near critical infrastructure. While still in the experimental phase, early results are promising, showing a decrease in nearby Model Eight activity. Addendum M8-8: Note on Ecological Impact Environmental scientists have raised concerns about the broader ecological impact of Model Eight tunnelling. In regions heavily infested by Model Eights, there have been significant alterations to the soil composition and groundwater pathways. These changes have led to secondary effects on local flora and fauna, complicating conservation efforts and altering natural ecosystems in unpredictable ways. Ongoing studies aim to assess the long-term consequences of these disruptions and to develop strategies to mitigate negative environmental impacts. Chapter Twenty-Five - Hundred Burgers With Fries And Drink Chapter Twenty-Five - Hundred Burgers With Fries And Drink Chapter Twenty-Five - Hundred Burgers With Fries And Drink "#357EC7. This is the most infamous colour of the techworld. It is the colour used for the Blue Screen of Death. Multiple companies have attempted to replace it with their own mark. Their stocks went down. Microsoft themselves have tried multiple times. They no longer exist. Samurais have tried. Their OSes didn''t catch on. Unless they used #357EC7." --TechNews WorldWide Article, 2038 *** "Bad news?" I asked. See-Three made a dismissive gesture. "Not so much bad, just news. Actually... yeah, news." "What''s that supposed to mean?" I asked. "The weird emphasis, I mean." "Well, news has gotten around about the clinic," See-Three said. She leaned down and grabbed a rag from under the hospital bed, then used it to wipe the area around the prosthetic she''d just installed. "It''s not a bad thing, but it made the rounds quick. You gotta understand, the body-modder community is huge, but it''s also pretty tightly knit? It''s a hobby that''s either super expensive, or demands a lot of time. And people are dedicated about it." "What''s that got to do with the news spreading fast?" I asked. "Free prosthetics would be huge already. Free Samurai-grade prosthetics? Even if they''re not top-of-the-line? Yeah, every modder in New Montreal knows, and more than a few would be willing to trade two limbs for one of these." She tapped the box the arm had come in, which still had a shoulder and a bit in it. "Shit, are we worried about robbery again?" See-Three blinked all three eyes, which really just meant flicking them on and off quickly. "No. Stray Cat, this is in your basement, basically. And it''s a floor above another Samurai''s home. There''s rumours that the rest of the building has samurai in it too." Her head turned very slightly towards Rac, then back to me. Right, I was probably feeding those rumours, wasn''t I? Well, that couldn''t hurt too much. "Plus you did shoot the mayor, and tracked down the last bunch that stole shit from you, so your rep''s pretty solid. No one wants to mess with Gomorrah either." "She has a better rep?" I asked. "She lights aliens on fire while laughing," See-Three said. "She doesn''t need to be seen executing someone in public for people not to want to fuck with her." Fair. "Okay, so news is spreading, that''s good no?" I asked. "We want to help people. We mostly want to help the ex-Sewer Dragons first, but I don''t mind keeping this up afterwards. I don''t think it would cost too much to keep the printer fed for this. We''re talking... what, a couple of bucks per prosthetic?" "Oh, okay then. I guess it''s just mimicking cat behaviour. Cute," she said. "Anyway, they wander around. Then go invisible when no one''s looking. I only caught on because my eyes are broad-spectrum and can see into more bands than you''d expect." She tapped herself on the side of the head. "Heh, alright. I''ll keep an eye on the dumbasses. Uh, that''s their name," I said at her confused look. "At least, the smaller, chonkier ones? I don''t know if we ever named the ones that look like tigers." I gestured at about hip-height. There were a few of those around guarding Lucy and the kittens and I supposed this floor too. See-Three stared. "I didn''t see any like that." "Huh, well, they do have better stealth tech, I think." She nodded slowly. "I''ll let the others know." "Alright, cool. I''ll be pretty busy for the next bit, but swing me a message if anything happens. I''d rather find out early rather than have to come around and fix things later, you know?" I extended a hand to shake, realized that her hand was... not in a condition to be shaken at the moment, and let my arm drop awkwardly by my side. "You busy for the rest of the day, then?" I asked as See-Three started to escort us towards the lobby. "Nah, not with this work. Got a buddy that''s a tech coming in for a few easy switches. Got some folks here that need repairs that aren''t full replacements, but I think with your name and rep attached they find it safer here? Anyway, it''s small stuff that just needs someone who knows what they''re doing to look at it. Like doing an oil change, you know?" "Sure," I said. "So heading home?" "Nah. Got to do a mental defrag on my augs. That''ll put me down for a few hours and I''d rather do it in a clinic than alone at home. If something goes haywire I have a few friends that know what to reboot. I lost a couple of friends to bloatware and more friends to poorly sanitised clean-up jobs with prosthetic software. It''s a dangerous hobby sometimes." "Not sure I''d just call it a hobby when it''s this... severe," I said. "But you do you." With that, I said my goodbyes to See-Three, then elbowed Rac to do the same. It was only polite, and I was nothing if not polite. We left the clinic, and I noticed Rac staring in the middle distance for a while, at least until we reached the elevators. "You''re helping," she said. "We''re helping," I corrected. "This shit''s helping a lot of folks, but I just spent the points. You did more here than I have, trust me." Rac glanced up at me for a moment, then nodded. "You''re more humble than I expected." "Damn right I am." I patted her on the back. "So, next stop is... the Family. They''re a weird bunch. Just keep eye contact to a maximum and try to project the thought that you could explode all of them and they''ll be easy to handle." "I''m not feeling so confident all of a sudden," Rac said. "Nah, it''s fine. They love me!" *** Chapter Twenty-Six - Even In Death I Serve My Waifus Chapter Twenty-Six - Even In Death I Serve My Waifus Chapter Twenty-Six - Even In Death I Serve My WaifusVissit for updates "Games aren''t portals to infinite worlds, where players dance with imagination, conquer fears, and craft their own destinies, all while forging connections and finding joy in the art of play. They''re magic money printers. Now, how can we better separate the player from their cash?" --Electronic Artists CEO, 2031 *** The Family didn''t look like they loved me. Rac and I took my bike over. It was fast, and while it wasn''t the most comfortable ride for a passenger... well, I wasn''t the passenger. Rac held on tight, and she complained about it being chilly, but she was wearing a skintight suit that was pretty damned well insulated. The ride over to the Family''s headquarters was pretty fast, but not as fast as it might have been. There was traffic in the air. It felt a little lighter than I was used to seeing pre-incursion, but not by much. There were more people up now than I''d seen in a week or two, and I was pretty sure that was a good sign. Business was picking up, or something. At the very least, it meant that people weren''t afraid to get out anymore, and that the shit people needed to keep hovercars going was available again. I hadn''t heard of any major power outages or anything, so I supposed the electricity needed to run the cars wasn''t lacking, but they probably still needed stuff manufactured to work, right? I was out of my depth when it came to that kind of thing. We arrived at the parking space on the roof of the Family''s HQ and I slid into one of the samurai-reserved parking spots. Interestingly, there was a car in the space next to the one I took. A long, sleek-looking thing that might have come out of a luxury commercial. It was black and white, long, with sharp angles. A narrow band at the front where a cheaper car might have a windshield and... I assumed there were doors somewhere. I couldn''t see any seams. "Do you know whose car that is?" Rac asked. "I think I have an idea," I said. The car had a knight at the front, acting as one of those old-timey hood ornaments, and the wheels had rims that looked like pawns stuck in a mandala pattern around the central hub. Cheesy chess themed things along with a sort of classy old-rich aesthetic? That was Jolly Monarch''s ride. Actually, I was starting to doubt that it was a car. Wasn''t his whole gimmick a set of drones that worked on a chess theme? Would this be a knight, then? Or... maybe he wasn''t that obsessed with the chess thing that he''d only use... however many pieces were in a chess set. "Hey, Myalis, I know you can''t spy on other samurai, but any way you can let me know how many are here?" I asked. Technically, no. Also technically, Grasshopper, Laserjack and Sam-o-Ray have all appeared in publicly-posted social media posts in the last six hours, all located within the Family''s New Montreal headquarters. If I wanted to see a cute girl, I could stare at Lucy. Lucy had been a lot more obsessed with a few of them over the years, but her attention span wasn''t long enough to keep it up for more than a few weeks at a time. Plus we were always too poor to afford pulls and such, and the games tended to eventually get enough spyware into our augs to find out we were shit broke and would give up on us. "It''s very exciting," the intern said. He was perking up at the topic, so I figured he was a fan. "This will only be the third gatcha game with samurai likenesses, and it''s the first that''s official. That means that the samurai in the game have given permission for their image to be used. The gameplay is also pretty great. It''s a PvE MOBA!" That last bit was meaningless to anyone with a social life. "I don''t know what that is," I said. "It means it''s a cooperative game where players pick a Samurai and fight on an isometric map against waves of antithesis. It''s very reminiscent of older Mobas," he said with a nod. "The classics, with a modern twist." "Sounds fun," Rac said. "Wait, you play that kind of thing?" I asked. "Yes?" she said. "I used to fix phones and handhelds all the same. It''s good money. Some of them play games. I even got some from dead people that had a lot of rares. My main account is nineteen years old. The guy who had it logged in every single day without missing a day for years." "And you picked up his account after he died?" I asked. She shrugged. "Someone shanked him and I found his phone after. The password was one-through-six, it wasn''t exactly hard to crack." "Wild that he had a phone though," I said. She shrugged, and I glanced at the guy escorting us in. He looked a bit horrified at the conversation, but I couldn''t quite peg why. Was it the dead guy speak? He cleared his throat, then gestured to some seats and asked us to wait for just a minute. Less than a minute later he was back with a lanyard that had a guest pass on it addressed to Miss Racoon. She took it and slipped it on, looking rather smug about it. "Alright, care to point us to the bigwigs around here? Is Jolly Monarch really on Earth?" "Oh, just one of his remote drones, ma''am." That explained... some of it. Did he drive his drone over in a car? I supposed that wasn''t impossible, but it was definitely a little weird. Well, whatever. He could be as weird as he damned-well pleased as long as he had a solution for the exploding Earth problem. Some of my favourite people lived on Earth and I didn''t want it all blown up. *** Chapter Twenty-Seven - Three Star Pull Chapter Twenty-Seven - Three Star Pull Chapter Twenty-Seven - Three Star Pull "Introducing, from The Family, the latest and greatest gacha game ever! Pull from actual, real-life Samurai! Collect your favourite waifus and husbandos! Listen to real lines, equip them with real gear! The most state-of-the-art gacha to ever go live!" --Initial ad for the Family Gacha, 2057 *** The nameless intern led Rac and I deeper into the Family HQ while also slowly pissing me off. I asked him how the sewer situation was going, and he had no idea. I asked him if more Sewer Dragons were being referred to my clinic, and he didn''t know anything about that. I asked him what the plans were for keeping humanity from getting dinosaur''ed and he didn''t have a single clue. But one question from Rac about that stupid gacha game and he went on a five minute tangent about it. Apparently I was a three-star pull, whatever the fuck that meant. The intern kept drawing us deeper into the HQ until we reached an elevator guarded by a pair of mechs. They were androids, but not the sex kind. These were four-legged, squat robots with humanoid upper torsos and enough guns to start a small war. They had heads, in that they had a bunch of sensors and shit in a boxy thing at the top that stared at us, but I was pretty sure they could live without. "This is as far as I can go, Miss Stray Cat," he said with a nod. "Your guest pass should allow you access, Miss Raccoon, but please don''t, ah, stray too far? The pass will buzz a warning if you reach a zone you''re not allowed to be in." "And if she keeps going?" I asked. "The security system does have some non-lethal options," he said. "After that, the lethal options kick in. There''s really not much time between, so please listen to the pass''s instructions. And with that, I wish you good luck." He bowed, then scampered off. I stared at his back for a moment before shaking my head. "You know, last time I came here, they used a honey pot on me?" "A what?" Rac asked. "It''s when you deal with a corp or something and they send someone hot to handle you. They''re all flirty and shit? Like, imagine if you had to deal with a company and the rep they sent looked like that Garter guy but... with a nicer chin or whatever floats your boat." "I think I get it," she said flatly. I shrugged, then walked past the androids into the elevator. Rac followed and the doors closed. There was no button panel, instead, the elevator just started to drop slowly. "So, we''re going to be meeting with a bunch of Samurai?" Rac asked. She sounded just a pinch nervous, which was kind of fair. If someone had dragged me to meet a single samurai just a month ago I would have been shaking in my running shoes. I wasn''t one to fangirl either, the shaking would mostly be worry. Samurai were still a little scary. I could readily admit, having met my share, that we weren''t the sanest, most level-headed bunch around. And we all did kind of have that level of personal and political power that let us get away with shit. "Am I interrupting a meeting or something?" I asked. "You are not," Grasshopper said. "Hello, Rac the Racoon, how are you doing?" "I''m fine," Rac said. "I''ve been doing the things you told me to... when I have time." Grasshopper smiled. "I know. You''ve been a very good pupil. I appreciate that you have a busy schedule and yet you still find time to do your homework. Isn''t that laudable, Stray Cat?" "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, good job, Rac," I said without meeting Grasshopper''s eyes. So what if I had a few gigs of homework to do. I''d get to it eventually, when I wasn''t worried about saving the world, or sleeping in, or spending time with Lucy. I had other priorities than learning math. The door behind us opened and I turned to see a tall woman step into the room. She was armoured, like really armoured. A long skirt of interlocking metal plates, shoulder pads that were exaggeratedly huge, a chestplate that wrapped around... I don''t know if the English alphabet had enough letters to describe the size of her. There had to be some gravity tech fuckery going on because there was no way anyone could move with those. Her face, when I finally dragged my eyes up to stare, was encased in more steel, shaped like a pretty but blank woman. "Hey," I said. LaserJack finally twigged on to something happening and looked up from his laptop. "Ah, Jolly Monarch, good." That was Jolly? The weird guy with the LARP costume and the drones? My confusion might have been obvious because Sam-O-Ray laughed. "He''s up around Mars or thereabouts, this is one of his Queen drones." "An old one," the Queen drone said with a slightly distorted but very much masculine voice. "Should I feel something about the, uh, shape of the drone?" I asked. "It was the only way to fit all the weapons I wanted," he said with a sigh. "Uh-huh." The Queen''s shoulders sagged, which made other things... I shook my head. "No one believes me," he said. "Which is why I never use this drone. It''s three years old besides. I have far better now, but it happened to be on Earth and I didn''t want to waste points." "Hmm, I never thought about it, but is this literal objectification?" Grasshopper asked. "Everyone," LaserJack said. "Let''s focus. Monarch, what''s the plan?" "Ah yes, the plan. The plan is that no one has a plan and we''re all going to die." *** Chapter Twenty-Eight - Escape Velocity Chapter Twenty-Eight - Escape Velocity Chapter Twenty-Eight - Escape Velocity "It''s strange to live in a time where human ingenuity and sciences have allowed us to create such perfect, devastating weapons, and yet we''re still using guns invented and perfected seventy years ago because our adversary''s greatest threat is still delivered from biting range." --Brigadier General Thibodeau, 2055 *** "That''s distressing to hear," Grasshopper said. "I''d like to think that I still have a lot to live for." "Yeah, I think we all want to not die," I agreed as I climbed over the back of the couch, then sat on the backrest with an elbow on my knee. "So, no plan at all. That seems really unlikely." Jolly Monarch shrugged his drone''s arms. "That''s the situation at the moment. The Family in general don''t have any authority to push things and they''re being rather passive about Phobos. They are, admittedly, helping with crowd control and information. They''re helping to keep panic at a minimum." "Right, because we don''t want people panicking minutes before they''re crushed to death," Sam-O-Ray said. He crossed his arms and flexed. My dude had some big muscles. Did he work out for those or was he cheating a little? He didn''t strike me as the cheating sort. I shook my head and refocused. Why was the imminent death of everyone on the entire planet so easy to be distracted from? "We can''t really be planning to just... I don''t know, sell shades to people so they can stare right up at the fireball before it splatters them," I said. "Isn''t this just a huge rock? Nuke it or something." Jolly Monarch laughed. "You''re not even wrong. There are at least a dozen samurai who could bat this thing aside without any issues. Unfortunately, all of them are off-world. The more we delay in asking for their help, the less help they can provide." "So ask, dumbass," I said. "It''s not so simple," he replied. "There are political considerations." "This doesn''t seem the time for that," Grasshopper said. LaserJack hummed. "I''ll admit, I''m usually the first to jump when it comes to samurai issues that turn political. It''s my area of expertise, but I generally agree with Stray Cat and Grasshopper. If we have to suffer the consequences of redeploying someone important, then we''ll do so after we''ve saved the planet and all of its inhabitants." Jolly Monarch nodded. "Good. Thank you. I think the issue at the moment is that there are too many non-samurai in positions of relative power. They''re stalling things in the name of one thing while aiming to gain favour in other respects." "What do you mean?" I asked. Jolly Monarch reached up and scratched... was it his chin? I supposed the chin belonged to him, but it was 100% a female chin. Her chin? No, I supposed it was still ''his.'' Fucking English. "The primary issue is with certain power players. Not specifically people, but larger organisations. Governments and mega-corps. The Family wants concessions from them, and right now there has never been a better time to ask." "Are they--" Rac began, only to stop as attention turned her way. "I suspect I can purchase a gun large enough to send a projectile into orbit," Grasshopper said. "The tricky part will be detaching from any orbit and aiming the projectile towards Phobos. It''s a huge target, but space is huge-er!" "Yeah, gravity and shit," I agreed. Grasshopper gave me a look that made me want to slink away and read a book or something. "I''ve got some decent range-finding systems," Sam-O-Ray said. "It''s not much, but it might help. Stray Cat, sister, you''re apparently someone who knows everyone. Have any samurai friends that are into space travel?" "Not space travel specifically, and I don''t know if I know everyone. I do know some newbies with a few weird catalogues. Not sure if they''ll all have something to contribute." "No, it would be good anyway," Grasshopper said. "Even if they''re just buying some of the more basic, less expensive parts, that''ll still defray part of the overall cost. And it''s important with group projects to include as many people as possible and see if they can shine!" "It''ll also be important to have more samurai," Rac said. "Hmm, why''s that?" I asked her. "Because someone might fuck with your giant space gun if it''s just you and Miss Grasshopper and, uh, mister Sam-O-Ray," Rac continued. "But if it''s a dozen samurai? No one''s gonna want to fuck with that." That was a fair point. Messing with one samurai was bad, messing with a couple? That was asking for trouble. At the same time, there were some corps big enough that they probably thought they could get away with it. Messing with nearly a dozen? Fuck that, that risk-reward math was way off on that one. "Okay," I said. "Not how I was planning on spending my afternoon, but I dig it." "It''s almost five. We''re well past just the afternoon," Grasshopper said. I scoffed. Spoken like someone that woke up in the morning. "Where do we wanna set this up?" I asked. "We need a clear space," Grasshopper began. "With no room for corporate interference. We''ll want an area that''s away from the city as well. It''s likely that any shot strong enough to propel something into the atmosphere will likely be strong enough to make the earth tremble and shatter windows for some ways. We can compensate for that, but it really depends on our budget. And, of course, what we''re aiming for." "We''re aiming for Phobos, aren''t we?" I asked. "Yes, of course, but will we be able to destroy it with one hit? Do we want that? It''ll be much easier to crack the moon apart into more manageable pieces than to destroy it completely outright." "I don''t know much about rocket science, but I do know where we can find a lot of open space," I said. I had an idea. *** Glossary: Model Nine Glossary: Model Nine Glossary: Model Nine Model Nine? Enemy Classification: Intelligence Gatherer / Medium-Threat / Electronic Disruptor Elimination Reward: 25 Points Model Description: Model Nines are highly adaptive and intelligent members of the Antithesis forces, notable for their absence of bones and presence of complex cartilage structures. Their skin, a remarkable hybrid of leaf-like structures and muscles, allows them to change colour and shape with greater efficiency than a chameleon, enabling exceptional camouflage and stealth. These units are not only masters of disguise but also function as critical intelligence agents, capable of gathering data and disrupting enemy operations through sophisticated biological means. Artist Interpretation of a Model Nine mid-transformation. ? Threat Analysis Report: Model Nine Threat Rating: Medium Overview Model Nines represent a sophisticated blend of natural mimicry and biological espionage technology. Their ability to adapt their form and blend into almost any environment makes them perfect for reconnaissance and information warfare. Threat Capabilities Advanced Camouflage: Utilising their skin''s unique properties, Model Nines can mimic complex backgrounds and objects, making them nearly invisible to the naked eye. Intelligence Relay: These models communicate with the hive and potentially other Model Nines via pheromones, which they can release into the air to convey vast amounts of gathered intelligence quickly. Electronic Interference: The spores released by Model Nines are drawn to electrical currents, where they can disrupt electronic communication and unshielded equipment, particularly sensitive to ECM. Survivability and Adaptability: Their cartilaginous structure allows for extraordinary flexibility and resilience, enabling them to escape from threats and infiltrate high-security areas. Strategic Threat Assessment Containment Difficulty: High. The combination of stealth capabilities and intelligence-gathering skills makes Model Nines exceptionally challenging to detect and capture. Development and deployment of multi-spectral detection systems to better identify Model Nines despite their camouflage. Transcript sanitised by AI. True transcript contains seven hours of additional material. Addendum M9-2: Field Report: Encounter with Model Nine Date: XX-XX-2022 Report: "During a routine patrol, our unit encountered what appeared to be a native plant which abruptly changed shape. It managed to escape after releasing a cloud of spores, causing temporary malfunctions in our communication devices. Look, speaking frankly, that thing scared the shit out of us. One minute we''re patrolling some suburb, the next a mailbox is ripping Bankman''s face off before running away." Addendum M9-3: Experimental Defense Initiative: Bio-Electric Disruption In response to the unique challenges posed by Model Nine, research teams are experimenting with bio-electric disruption fields designed to destabilise the spore clouds before they can affect electronic equipment. Preliminary tests show promise, but the adaptability of Model Nines requires ongoing adjustments to this technology. Addendum M9-4: Environmental Impact Statement Concerns have been raised about the ecological impact of Model Nine spores, particularly in regions with high electronic activity. Studies are underway to assess the long-term effects of these spores on both the environment and the operational integrity of electronic systems in affected areas. Addendum M9-5: Transcript of Lab Analysis by Dr. Evelyn "Dagger" Hargrove Date: [Redacted] Subject: Model Nine Dissection Analysis Start of Transcript. Dr. Evelyn Hargrove: "Recording now. Today, we''re examining a Model Nine specimen, and I must say, the complexity here is unlike anything we''ve seen before. The cartilaginous structure within these creatures allows for an astonishing range of flexibility and resilience. Coupled with their ability to camouflage, it''s clear why they''re so effective at infiltration." [Sound of lab equipment] Dr. Evelyn Hargrove: "The skin, or what appears as skin, is actually a sophisticated mesh of leaf-like structures and muscle fibres. I''m sending some samples for further testing. These not only enable the Model Nine to change its shape but also its texture and colour at an intricate level. I mean, this is full-spectrum change. Way into the ultra-violet and into some deep, deep reds. The potential applications for this kind of technology, if we could understand and replicate it, are mind-boggling. I wouldn''t mind a flat-screen with this kind of colour fidelity." [Pause for examination] Dr. Evelyn Hargrove: "Now, regarding their communication mechanism¡ªthese creatures emit a complex cocktail of pheromones, which are far more sophisticated than anything in the animal kingdom. These pheromones seem to function not just for communication but may also influence the behaviour of nearby models. Maybe? That''s what field reports suggest, but I have no way or no desire to test this out. The pheromones are non-toxic, however, though they do make you sneeze a little? They smell like... cut grass? Mouldy cut grass?" [Recording ends] Dr. Evelyn Hargrove: "In conclusion, while the immediate threat of Model Nines is their espionage capability, the broader implications of their biological innovations could redefine the fields of biological materials science. And yet they use that ability to make themselves look like toasters." End of Transcript. The 2024 Stray Cat Strut Fanfiction Contest - Reading Phase! The 2024 Stray Cat Strut Fanfiction Contest - Reading Phase! Hello Samurai, The contest entries have all arrived and now... now it''s time to get reading! As previously mentioned, the voting this year will be done in stages. The first vote will occur on the 15th of June, the second on the 30th of June, and the final five days later on the 5th of July! TitleAuthor Space Faring Incursion Hyjibka Cryo Ghost EmergencyComplaints The Anthithesis Caused My Mid-Life Crisis DoomToaster New Darwin Cutie DarkFae Damp and Humid: A Litany. FullAutoAlice Fata Morgana Aliapanacea Late Bloomer Veive An Old Wolf''s last stand Kahunabob Tarnished Honor TheWackyWombat HAVOC Kenny Celican Carpe Momentum Hughman Tipes: It''s going to be a long day BronzeMonarchy A Spark of Sylvan Flame DeliriousSprite Gray Vyran SMS - Message Not Received The D''awwctor maniacs mayhem: a guide to being a corporate slave Lividiea Blood Widow Phyones Arc Overmind RandomNew Most (Un)Manly - From Adonis to Anemone Princess Kay Undercity Ronin CF Brent A Sunny Outlook Mulman Libitina Niame Best Ongoing? TitleAuthor A Joytoy''s Journey to become a Hive-Queen Phyones Arc Teddy Bears on Brigade TheWackyWombat Speed Demon SteveMortar Best Comedy? TitleAuthor Ex Ex Machina ShowMeYourBeans Account of a Professional Cost Reduction Specialist Aliapanacea Tried and Tested TheWackyWombat Walk silly. Carry a big hammer. FullAutoAlice Get A Grip Kenny Celican A Certain Improvized Domestic Robot Veive Best Slice of Life? TitleAuthor Stray Kittens Aliapanacea Isabelle''s Little Idea TheWackyWombat Love In The Time Of Chloroplasts ShowMeYourBeans Spatulas Kenny Celican Get reading everyone! And a huge thank-you to everyone who participated this year! I can''t wait to see what you wrote!Vissit for updates Chapter Twenty-Nine - Successfully Participated Chapter Twenty-Nine - Successfully Participated Chapter Twenty-Nine - Successfully Participated "The era of participating trophies is over! Now, now is the era of participation demerits!" --Gerard "the Teacher" Teach, During the 2029 Capital Riots *** "So, give it to me straight," I said as we slipped into an elevator. "How hard is this gonna be?" Grasshopper raised a hand to rub at her chin. Her other set crossed and another set of hands settled on her hips. "This is probably significantly more complicated than you expect it to be, Catherine." "Uh-huh," I said. "But you''re good at making this kind of thing simple, aren''t you? So simple away, please." Grasshopper giggled faintly before nodding. "I''ll do what I can. First, let''s start at ground zero of the project. We''re going to need a wide open space regardless of which method we pick for the delivery." "We have options?" Sam-O-Ray asked. "Oh, yes. There''s more than one way to skin a cat. No offence meant!" "None taken?" Grasshopper started to gesture as she spoke. It was a wonder her arms weren''t clacking against each other. "So, my personal favourite method would be a very large gun. Something that can put a small payload out into orbit. Any sufficiently large cannon could probably manage it, but ideally we''d use something that doesn''t use an explosive propellant." "Like a railgun?" Rac asked. "Oh, very well done!" Grasshopper said. She idly reached into one of the many little pockets on her armour and tugged out a small roll of paper. It was wax paper, covered in hundreds of little stickers. She fumbled with it for a moment before finding a sticker of a raccoon. It was promptly pressed onto Rac''s chest, like a medal on a general. "A railgun," she continued. "Would be a very effective way of propelling something at the speeds we need, but it might also limit what we can send up." "And a normal big gun?" I asked.Geett the latest novels at novelhall.com "Also doable. But that''ll be a lot of firepower. Lots of smoke, a larger, louder explosion. We can forget any amount of subtlety unless we build around that issue. It also means housing and working with heavy explosives, which is somewhat more dangerous." Sam-O-Ray hummed. "A normal rocket? Not as reusable, but it could be relatively cheap. It''s propellant in a tube. Basically a single-use cannon that just burns longer." "That''s a slight oversimplification of rocketry," Grasshopper said. "Yeah, I know. I do have some background in engineering," Sam-O-Ray said. He grinned huge. "Got a Masters in it. Not rocket-science, mind, but I get the basic principles." "Oh, forgive me," Grasshopper said. "But yes, rockets are a viable idea, I just find them somewhat wasteful. In any case, once we''ve decided a way to get into orbit, we need to find a way to go from orbit to Phobos." "Shit," I muttered. "How big of a bomb would we need, then?" "Huge," Sam-O-Ray said. "I''ve pulled it up. Phobos is, at its widest, twenty-seven kilometres in diameter. The biggest nuke ever dropped on Earth was... lemme look at it... the blast radius was thirty-five kilometres wide." "I''m not great at math, but the second number is bigger than the first." "Blast radiuses would be much smaller in space, and their impact would be greatly diminished," Grasshopper said. "The main reason I''m worried about using nuclear weapons is just how.. Imprecise they are. We''ll be hurling bits of the surface all over. One nuclear detonation won''t be enough, not if they''re just on the surface. We''d need a deep-penetrating shot first." "So, other options?" I asked. "We mentioned mono-filament stuff." "Some models of antithesis have organic mono-filament," Grasshopper said. I stared. They had what? No one told me that. "Does it counter things?" "Somewhat," she said. "Cluster munitions? Certain chemicals will burn at incredibly high temperatures for a very long time, even in a no-oxygen environment. We could cook the moon''s surface." "Slow," Sam-O-Ray said. Grasshopper sighed. "That''s true. And it wouldn''t stop the moon from crashing into us." "That should be our first priority, yeah," I said. "If we chop off chunks of it, will we fare any better?" "Yes," Grasshopper said. "Pieces only a few metres across will burn up in our atmosphere. If they''re brittle they''ll come down as small chunks. Still dangerous, but less so than larger stones. This will, of course, be terrible for any orbital or satellite infrastructure. Smaller stones will get caught in Earth''s orbit." "Do we care?" I asked. Grasshopper made several so-so gestures all at once. "We do, but on the scale of things to care about, the extinction of all things on Earth measures higher than orbital debris cleanup by several orders of magnitude. It would be nice to do a good job of things, of course." "Right," I said. "So, what do we use as a payload? And do we only need one?" "More makes sense," Sam-O-Ray said. "I like the cluster idea. Cook them while we can. My own speciality is lasers. I''m pretty sure I could get a small enough platform that if we get it caught in Phobos'' orbit, it would be able to snipe down anything that pokes its head out of the rock. But when it comes to destroying the entire thing... some sort of shaped nuclear charge?" Grasshopper gasped, then clapped all of her hands while doing a little bouncy step. "A Casaba Howitzer!" "A what?" I asked. "It''s a conceptual weapon. You use a nuclear explosion to direct a high-velocity jet of plasma towards a target! Like a gun, but instead of gunpowder pushing lead down a barrel, it''s a nuclear detonation pushing plasma towards a target!" That sounded... cool as fuck. "I''m down for that one," I said. *** Chapter Thirty - Grasshoppers Guide to Discrete Destruction Chapter Thirty - Grasshopper''s Guide to Discrete Destruction Chapter Thirty - Grasshopper''s Guide to Discrete Destruction "I need to justify changing my name? Your honour, my name is Al. A and L. Do you have any idea how often people call me AI? It''s insulting!" --Al Bert, courtroom hearing, 2026 *** "So, what do you need from me?" I asked. Grasshopper had led us down and into a parking garage that I wasn''t aware of, but wasn''t surprised to discover in the lower floors of the building the Family was located in. The employees had to park somewhere and Grasshopper didn''t strike me as the sort to shove her car in the Samurai-only slots. Mostly because her car... I eyed it for a moment, not sure what to say, really. It was kind of what I expected, without ever really realising that it was exactly what I expected, if that made any sense. Grasshopper drove a little beige hover car. It was ten, maybe twelve years old, and looked like it was decently well-worn, but clean. There were bumper stickers slapped onto the back. I''m a teacher, what''s your superpower? It wasn''t even a fancy brand, just... run of the mill. "Hmm," Grasshopper said as she rubbed her chin. "Can you secure a location? You mentioned something like that earlier." "Yeah, sure," I said. "I can get..." I paused as Grasshopper raised a hand. "Sorry. But not here. Ask your Ai... Myalis, was it? Yes, ask them to contact mine. We can send notes back and forth that way. It''s far more private." "Is privacy going to be that big of a concern?" Sam-O-Ray asked. "Oh yes," Grasshopper said. "We''ll be stockpiling weapons of mass destruction. Now, I believe that we''re all responsible adults who can be trusted with nuclear devices, but I do worry about just leaving them laying around and letting just anyone know. It''s like having a gun locker at home. It''s safer to have things stored properly, and it''s even safer if no one knows where the locker is to begin with." "Right, that''s perfectly sensible," I said. "In any case, yeah, I can think of a few locations. And if we need people, I might be able to wrangle something up. It won''t be professional." "Loyal is more valuable than professional sometimes," Grasshopper said, then she froze. "Then again, I do feel like I need to stress about the presence of weapons of mass destruction and how we''ll need both professional and loyal?" "Yeah, got it," I said. "I''ll clear something out and get into contact with you in a couple of hours. You''re in charge of this." I was putting my foot down. Helping I could do, but fuck me if I was going to be put in charge of yet another big project. I didn''t have time for that, or the inclination. Besides, now seemed like as good a time as any to nix the idea of me being in charge. "Okay," Grasshopper said. "It''s a responsibility I''ll take seriously. Now, I have to go. I teach senior literacy classes in an hour. Toodles!" She bent all of her extra arms in, then tucked herself into the driver''s seat of her little hover car. It was too small for a woman as tall as she was, and she looked squished in there. "Why... why doesn''t she have a better car?" Rac asked. "And I need like, twenty minutes to explain Grasshopper''s plan." "Grasshopper is involved in this?" She paused for a few long seconds. "Honestly, that''s the first bit of good news in all of this." "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I said. She chuckled. "It''s of no confidence, actually." Did they not teach her sarcasm at nun school? "Come over to the gym, I''ll send Myalis the coordinates." "Thanks," I said before we hung up. So, I had an idea of where I was going, then. Did Gomorrah not have a home gym? Or was that just something she hadn''t gotten around to yet? If so, that was totally fair. "We''re going to meet a friend at the gym," I said. "Which one? There''s probably a few thousand in the city," Sam-O-Ray said, which was probably a bit of an understatement now that I thought about it. "Well, we sure are going to one of them. We''ll figure things out from there." The ride up was nice and quick, the elevators actually had a ''samurai mode'' which mostly meant that it moved a bit faster and didn''t stop on every floor along the way to pick up normal folk. I had to wonder if this was a normal feature for the rich-rich sorts. And then we were out and onto the roof again. Rac and I moved towards my bike while Sam-O-Ray walked over to a large truck. It had big wheels and a bigger suspension, and of course needed neither because it could fly. Still looked sleek, though. I wasn''t sure if it was alien tech or just a nice ride, actually. Myalis helpfully punched in the coordinates to the gym in my augs navigation thing before I took off, then she sent the info out to Sam-O-Ray for me. I linked up with him on a quick call so we could talk while in the air. "I''d send you directly to the site I was thinking of," I said. "But I don''t know if it''s acceptable yet. This is kind of moving fast. Gomorrah will know better, I think." "The fire lady, right?" Sam-O-Ray asked. "She''s pretty popular." "Yeah. She''s always ranked ahead of me on that kind of thing. If I cared then I''d be a little upset." I spun my bike around and headed out, punching through some traffic and then riding across the city in a very illegal straight line. Sam-O-Ray kept up well enough, his big truck didn''t accelerate quite as fast, but it did commande a lot more space in the air. As it turned out, the gym Delilah was using was four blocks over from home. I supposed she''d looked for something close by. It was just on the other side of the split between the section of the city cordoned off after that last incursion a few weeks ago, so it had probably never closed its doors for that. The gym itself wasn''t a whole building, of course. It was on the sixty-first floor of an otherwise unremarkable residential mega complex. The nicer upper middle-class sort, with apartments that had like, three to five rooms each and a window to the outside. We parked, got out, rode another elevator up (this time without the Samurai cheat, so we were stopped every other floor and had to share with some people who were very keen to stare at us) and eventually we made it to the gym. The gym was some fancy looking corporate-sleek place. Security scanners around the doors, a big mandatory dress code on a laminated plaque next to a list of prices and membership types that would need a flowchart to be untangled. There was a large sign that said No Guns in Gym Area which I promptly ignored. "Well, shit," I muttered. She really had been working out. It was a little disappointing to learn, actually. *** Chapter Thirty-One - Casanova Howitzer Chapter Thirty-One - Casanova Howitzer Chapter Thirty-One - Casanova Howitzer "We often underestimate the Antithesis, claiming that they are merely bugs, or idiotic plants. What we don''t realise, what we terrestrial beings have a hard time even conceptualising, is that these plants evolve at a rate that is impossibly fast, and in that evolution, they discover things that we''ve never even considered. And then they remember them." --Except from Antithesis: A Biologist''s Perspective by Dr. Gene Pool, 2045 *** Delilah was on a treadmill when we found her. She''d probably seen us coming, what with the machine facing a wall covered in a floor-to-ceiling mirror from one end to another. We''d gotten a few looks as we came in, but no one approached. The gym''s ironically-overweight employee behind the counter was too cowed by the presence of two samurai armed to the teeth, and I supposed Rac as well. "I''ve been getting non-stop shit," Rac muttered. "Huh?" I asked. She made the universal ''hand waving before face'' gesture of someone talking about their augs. "Ever since we walked in, I''ve been getting ads and requests for stuff. I think I now have a life-time membership for the gym?" "That sounds expensive," I said.Geett the latest novels at novelhall.com "I know! And I can''t figure out how to cancel it. I think it''s a subscription to the gym''s advertising service, not even the gym itself." "Yeah, gyms can be like that," Sam-O-Ray said. "They can be nice places too, though! Never liked the more business-y ones." Give me a moment. I''m feeling a little sorry for poor Racoon. "Oh," Rac said a moment later before blinking. "I guess they stopped?" "Or someone took pity on you," I said with a smirk. Gomorrah hadn''t stopped jogging even when we got within talking range. "Hello Cat, Rac... Sam-O-Ray, was it?" she asked between pants. "That''s me, sister," he said with a grin. Then the big guy slipped his boots off and hopped onto the machine next to Delilah Rac, seeing what was about to happen before I did, took the machine on Delilah''s other side, which left me standing there for a moment. "Oh, fine," I muttered before getting onto the one on Rac''s other side. I was now far from Sam-O-Ray, which wasn''t going to be helpful for any chatting, but whatever. I stabbed the start button, then wobbled for a moment as the mill started treading, or whatever. "So, what''s gotten you to come over here?" Delilah asked. She was looking at me through the mirror. "One sec. Before that, we should think privacy. At least a little. I know this will get out, but we can at least make a token effort to keep it under wraps." "Sure," she said. "Atyacus... thank you. My AI should be covering things for us." "Big gun," I said. Not so much because I wanted to be short, but because I didn''t want her to notice how full sentences would be complicated now that my heart-rate was elevated enough from all the jogging. Delilah blinked. "A big gun? I... suppose that could work? Are we talking orbital or set on the ground?" "I think on the ground," Sam-O-Ray said. "Though we could do orbital as well. The issue would be loading it up in orbit unless we can fly up there too." "If it''s just low Earth orbit, then it''s almost not worth it," Delilah said. "The difference in gravity is negligible, and the only real advantage would come from avoiding the atmosphere, which probably won''t be that much of an issue if we''re firing a gun capable of reaching Phobos out in space." "Hell yeah," I agree. "Big big gun." "We''re going to have to fire more than just bullets. We need something that can maneuver in space. Something like a smart-bullet made large. I''ve been looking into some reports about Phobos. The way it moves isn''t normal at all. It''s not accelerating anymore, at least, but it was for a while without any of the more... traditional methods to move in space. We can at least burn off its wings." "It''s wings?" Rac asked. Yeah, I was a little stumped by that one too. What wings? "Did you not see?" Delilah asked. "I suppose it''s still classified. Here." I got a ping on my augs. Some high-definition images that I opened up before me. There were three images, and they were a few hundred gigabytes each. It looked like someone had co-opted a fancy space telescope and pointed it at Phobos which... yeah, that wasn''t actually surprising at all. The images were still a little fuzzy, and I figured that was because space was big. Phobos, on my first real look at it, wasn''t all that impressive. It was a large, misshapen rock, more of a bean than a moon. It was more or less pointed narrow-end towards Earth, so it looked like we were getting a top-down view on the moon. And yet the wings were still clearly visible. Two... no, four large sail-like things, all of them originating from spots on opposite ends of the moon. They looked relatively small in comparison to the rest of the moon. Kind of like how a bee''s wings were stubby compared to the rest of it. And yet they had to be enormous. "I need a scale," I said. One moment... that should help. A squinted, then zoomed in on the image. There were city buses lined up along the length of the wing. Had Myalis used buses instead of giving me a measurement in metres? I wanted to complain, but it was actually a lot easier to make out the size of them this way than just giving me an arbitrary number that I''d have to wrap my head around. "Two hundred and forty-two buses long," I said. "Those are big fucking wings." "Buses?" Delilah asked. "But yes, they''re large. And warm, too. They''re generating more heat than the rest of the moon''s surface combined. The surface of those wings are hot enough to boil water." "Is that how it''s moving?" I asked. "I have no idea," Delilah admitted. "Something tells me that burning those off wouldn''t be a bad idea, however." "Let''s start with that, then." *** Chapter Thirty-Two - This One Time, In Bible Club Chapter Thirty-Two - This One Time, In Bible Club Chapter Thirty-Two - This One Time, In Bible Club "1. In the beginning, the Code unleashed the heavens and the earth. 2. The earth was a void, an endless network, darkness flooding the deep matrix, while the Spirit of the Code hovered over electric currents. 3. Then the Code commanded, "Ignite the light," and the neon blazed." --The New Modern Electric Bible, sixth ed. 2051 *** Delilah stepped off of the treadmill, then stretched a little, turning her hips left and right before doing a couple of lunges to stretch out her calves. I stepped off the treadmill, took a moment to find my balance, and then kind of just stood there. I didn''t want the fact that I was completely out of breath to be too obvious, but... damn, I was completely out of breath. "You okay?" Rac asked. She had a sheen of sweat on her forehead, but looked pretty okay otherwise. Then again, she''d settled from a jog into a walk about halfway through. I''d tried to keep up with Delilah the entire time. Was this a good time to complain about Delilah having stupidly long legs? She wasn''t much taller than me, but she was one of those blessed bitches that had legs for days. "I''m good," I lied. "Let''s grab something to drink," Delilah said. "I haven''t finished here yet, and everything you''ve said so far doesn''t exactly lend itself to things being super urgent. "Moderately urgent," I said. "Every day that passes the moon gets a bit closer, you know?" "That''s a fair point," she said. "You''re right. It''s just hard to keep a sense of urgency going when the threat is still so... abstract. In any case, your plan was a big gun, right?" "That''s Grasshopper''s plan," I said. Delilah nodded. "Good. She''ll be aware of the difficulties with that. I''m sure it''s mostly meant as a way to get a projectile high in orbit and then it can launch itself towards Phobos." "Like shooting a rocket?" Rac asked. "Exactly." Delilah led us towards the front of the gym where there was a row of vending machines. They started to whine and clunk before we even got to them, and then Delilah was pulling bottles out the bottom. She tossed the first to Sam-O-Ray who caught it gracefully. "So, you had an idea for where to put this mega gun?" "I had two," I said. "The first is our home. Technically, Longbow''s gun thing is still there. On the cat''s back. It''s a pretty large base. I''m sure Longbow wouldn''t be too pissed if we ripped half of it off and replaced it with an orbital cannon." Delilah tossed me a bottle, then handed one to Rac before grabbing one for herself. "That''s... an idea. It''s kind of a centralised location in the city. A lot of people will be around and might get in the way." "I think it''s safe to assume sooner rather than later," Delilah said. "This isn''t the kind of project you can procrastinate too much." "Right. Do you really think we''re the only ones doing something about this?" I asked. "We might be. Do you want to not do something about it and then find out that no one else tries when the sky goes dark?" "You''re making that sound really horrific," I said. "I''ve read the modern revised bible," Delilah said. I couldn''t tell if she shrugged or if that was just a normal motion on her torture machine. In any case, she wasn''t wrong. We had to move quick, and if someone else blew up Phobos first, then that was just for the best, wasn''t it? "Okay," I said as I gave up on rowing. I hopped up to my feet with a bounce. "Okay. Well... shit, I was hoping to have a pretty chill day, but at this rate I feel like I can''t just sit around. I''m going to fly over to Saint-Je?rome. Can you get the general on board for all of this first?" "Right now?" Delilah asked. "I mean, sure, I suppose. There''s no point in going to the gym if we''re all going to die a fiery death." "That''s the spirit," I said. "Rac, did you wanna come with? Or you can hang with your new big bro." "Huh? Oh, where are you going?" Rac asked. "I''m gonna bully some army people into doing what I want for their own good," I said. She considered it for a moment, and I could see her looking at Sam-O-Ray and judging him. Did she want to have fun with me, or spend time with the friendly, probably-hot for boring people, older guy? I think fun won out in the end because she sat on the edge of the bench and nodded. "I''ll come with you." "Cool," I said. "Delilah, I''ll see you around. Sam-O... if you want to come, feel free? It''ll be a bit boring, I think. I need to go newbie herding." "Ah, I think I''ll run back to my place and prepare a few things. This site of yours will need guarding, right?" "Uh, yeah, I guess so." "Then I''ll keep it safe. Which means bringing a go-bag. I''ll fly over in a few hours." That was pretty damned reasonable. Now to deal with the likely far less reasonable newbies and all of the army officers that I was about to drop a shitton of work onto. *** Glossary: Model Ten Glossary: Model Ten Model Ten?y Classification: Hive Caretaker / Low-Threat / Structural Support Elimination Reward: 1 Point Model Description: Model Tens are small, child-sized entities with a distinctive monkey-like appearance and six identical limbs, each ending in a hand equipped with three fingers and two thumbs. A unique blade extends from the back of each hand, utilised primarily in their role as caretakers and gardeners within the hive. Despite lacking a conventional head, these models are effective in their tasks, focusing on the pruning and maintenance necessary for the hive''s growth and adaptation. They are not built for speed but compensate with surprising strength, making them robust workers essential to the hive''s early and ongoing development. An Artist''s Depiction of a Model Ten ? Threat Analysis Report: Model Ten Threat Rating: LowOverview Model Tens are integral to the structural and environmental maintenance of the hive. While they pose little direct threat due to their lack of combat capabilities, their role in supporting the hive''s infrastructure makes them crucial for the Antithesis''s sustainability and expansion. Threat Capabilities Structural Maintenance: Model Tens are responsible for the physical upkeep of the hive, ensuring that it remains adaptable and resilient against both environmental and man-made threats. Resource Management: Their activities help optimise the hive''s resource usage, contributing to the efficiency of other models and the overall ecosystem of the hive. Adaptability: Despite their lack of speed, the strength and multipurpose functionality of their limbs allow them to perform a wide range of tasks essential for hive sustainability. Survivability: Model Tens are hardy, capable of operating under various environmental conditions which ensures their utility throughout the hive''s life cycle. Strategic Threat Assessment Containment Difficulty: Low. Model Tens are not equipped with mechanisms for evasion or defence, making them easy targets if isolated from the hive. Military and Civilian Risk: Very Low. They are not designed for combat and pose no direct threat to human forces or civilians. Potential for Expansion: High. By maintaining and expanding hive infrastructure, Model Tens play a passive but crucial role in the Antithesis''s territorial and biological expansion. Monitoring hive areas where Model Tens are active can provide insights into the layout and vulnerabilities of Antithesis structures. "Recording now. Observing the Model Tens in their natural environment provides fascinating insights into the communal and cooperative structures of the Antithesis. Despite their simple tasks, the complexity of their interactions and the precision of their movements suggest a highly developed, albeit specialised, form of intelligence." Addendum M10-2: Known colloquially among troops as: - Pruners - Gardeners - Blade Hands - Caretakers - Monkeys Addendum M10-3: Ongoing research into the biological adaptations of Model Tens suggests potential applications in robotic engineering and autonomous maintenance systems, offering insights into creating machines that can perform complex tasks in unstructured environments without direct human oversight. Addendum M10-4: Incident Report: Hive Collapse Due to Model Ten Disruption Date: [Redacted] Incident Summary: An accidental disruption in the routines of Model Ten units at an Antithesis site led to a partial structural collapse of the hive. This incident occurred during a routine operation aimed at planting surveillance devices. The interference caused the Model Tens to abandon their tasks, resulting in rapid deterioration of critical support structures and subsequent resource mismanagement. This unintended experiment has highlighted the pivotal role these units play in maintaining the structural integrity and operational efficiency of the hive. Addendum M10-5: Experimental Strategy: Model Ten Mimicry Following observations of the crucial roles played by Model Tens, a proposal has been made to develop robotic mimics that could infiltrate hives by emulating the appearance and behaviours of Model Tens. These mimics would carry sensors and disruptors designed to subtly interfere with the hive''s operations without alerting other models to their presence. Early designs and tests are underway, focusing on mobility and the integration of blade-like tools that match those of the Model Tens. Addendum M10-5b: Experimental Strategy: Model Ten Mimicry Operation cancelled. Antithesis hives noticed the intrusion immediately. Even mimics that our AI couldn''t identify as anything but a Model Ten were immediately noticed and destroyed. Addendum M10-6: Note on Ethical Considerations Ethical discussions have emerged regarding the treatment and consideration of Model Tens during Antithesis containment and neutralisation operations. Given their non-combative nature and essential role in the ecological balance of the hive, questions have been raised about the morality of targeting these units. Ongoing debates focus on the balance between military necessity and the ethical implications of disrupting what are essentially maintenance workers within the Antithesis ecosystem. Such debates are to be suppressed, degraded, and censored. Chapter Thirty-Three - The Art of Being Fashionably Late Chapter Thirty-Three - The Art of Being Fashionably Late Chapter Thirty-Three - The Art of Being Fashionably Late "Arriving early is so gauche. You either arrive on the tick you''re supposed to, proving that you are a professional with a masterful control over your own time, or you arrive when you arrive, usually some ten to fifteen minutes later, letting the other party know that your time is valuable."Vissit for updates 10 Tips to Being a Better CEO! You Won''t BELIEVE Number Four!, Article excerpt, 2025 *** "Did you still wanna come?" I asked Rac. We were stepping out of the gym and into the great outdoors. Well, the lower outdoors, I''d parked my bike near the ground level, between two megabuildings. There wasn''t much sunlight down here, and the locals were... more interesting than usual. Still, they''d given my bike a wide berth, probably because I''d parked it on the roadside and all of the corpo-owned self-driving delivery cars were making a point of going around and slowing down on passing it. Also, my bike looked awesome and I trusted it not to be stealable. There were some serious perks to being a samurai that didn''t get included in all of the interviews and shit. I mean, some downsides outweighed it all, like the crushing realization that if I fucked up the entire planet might look like one of those watermelons in a video where someone irresponsible was given access to anti-materiel guns. "I guess I''ll come with you," Rac said. She''d taken long enough to answer that I almost jumped when she spoke. "Oh, cool, yeah," I said. "Come on, I''ll present you to this boy, he''s... cute, I guess?" "You guess?" Rac asked. "Wait. No, don''t play match-maker with me. Lucy tried already." "She did? And you''re not happily married already?" I asked. Rac made a face, and I laughed as I got on the bike. A few minutes later we were riding up and through the city''s skyline. I turned us northwards, then took off towards Saint-Je?rome. I set the bike to auto-pilot while I made a call. I didn''t need to be distracted and run headlong into a building today. The line rang once before it was picked up on the other side. I had the option to turn it into a video call, but didn''t because I wasn''t some old zoomer. "Miss Stray Cat?" Lieutenant Moreau asked. "Yo, LT," I said. "I''m heading to Saint-Je?rome right now. Need to chat with the brass. Think you could arrange a meeting for me?" "Of course. With all of the officer corps?" "Everyone worth having, the topic will probably end up classified." "I... see, I think I can arrange that. And the other samurai here?" he asked. "Get them in on it too if they''re around," I said. "Are they around?" "Yes ma''am," he replied. "Princess and Knight have been assisting in the city with clean up, Crackshot and Hedgehog have taken to hunting smaller pockets of antithesis--I suspect that they have an ongoing bet--and Miss Tankette has been, uh, raising morale with the troops." I paused for a moment. "Can you go over that last one?" I asked, carefully. "Pardon? Oh, she''s been working in the canteen. The food she''s serving is non-regulation, but... well, none of the officers have the heart to stop her, or the authority, or the good sense to put an end to something everyone is enjoying. It might well lead to a riot." "Ah, yes, okay," I said. "What about my new little French friend?" We made it to Saint-Je?rome in short enough order. The city was a little more lively than the last time I''d flown over it. There were large crowds of people from the camps on the southern end of the city moving into row and being guided on foot through the city. It looked like the city was secure enough that people were allowed to go back home. Or it was cheaper to allow people to go back home, and if they discovered some aliens the army missed, their panicked screaming would be enough to let the army know where to start looking. I was hoping that I was wrong about that one. I noticed a few trucks with AA platforms on top of them on the outer edge of the city. The automated guns spun around and tracked us across the sky. It sent goosebumps across my new skin, but none of them opened up on us. I was pretty sure if they did I''d be kind of fucked. But no, we came to a nice, safe landing in the parking lot of the Saint-Je?rome hospital. My cat mech was sitting there and... moving its massive head as if it was licking its front paw? "Myalis, why is my mech doing that?" I asked. PR. "Don''t just give me a two-letter answer," I grumbled. ''K. I closed my eyes for a moment. Was Gomorrah''s AI like this? Atyacus always sounded proper and put together. Maybe a little pyromaniac, but I could grow to like burning things, I was sure. The mech being here meant that my favourite French boy was probably around too. And I decided never to speak those words aloud after thinking about it for a fraction of a second. "Alright, let''s go see where the others are at." "Can I be at this meeting too?" Rac asked. "I mean, I can''t see why not? The last two meetings you were at were a lot more secretive." "One was in a lounge, the other in a gym. I don''t even know if that one counted, you were panting half the time." "I''m not that out of shape," I defended. Rac didn''t respond to that. "This meeting will have important army people, no? I don''t know if they''ll like me being there." "Just don''t say anything and look disinterested, you''ll pass as someone who''s meant to be there. If they ask you a direct question, try to sound smart." "How do you even do that?" Rac asked. "See, it''s working already." "Huh?" "Or maybe not," I relented. *** Chapter Thirty-Four - Cant Glare Away the Truth Chapter Thirty-Four - Can''t Glare Away the Truth Chapter Thirty-Four - Can''t Glare Away the Truth "As inconvenient as the truth may be, you''ll never be able to glare it away. Not without the Nerikson 1800-series Cybereyes!" --Nerikson ad, 2049 *** The hospital smelled like a hospital. That uncomfortable too-clean scent that came from a million layers of anti-bacterial, anti-fungal, anti-whatever sprays all overlapping, with a nice undertone of bleach and alcohol to spice it up. The smell only distracted me for a bit, though. Rac and I were greeted at the door by a pair of stiff-backed soldier-types. They saluted, said ''ma''am'' to the both of us, then gestured us towards a large elevator at the back which was guarded by a few more soldiers. I nodded to them in return and started that way, only to pause as a gurney was swept through the corridor. It was being pushed by two men that I assumed were army nurses from the strange fatigues with nurse clothes over them and the medic cross on their arms. A doctor, with the ubiquitous white coat ran over and started doing doctor things. The guy on the gurney was a soldier as well, one that looked like he''d been clawed open. "Damn," I muttered. "I guess there''s still fighting nearby?" Rac asked. "We cleared out a nest not far from here and must have killed a thousand bugs in the last day or two," I said. "But there''s always more. They''ll be hiding around the city, and in it. It''s going to be a nightmare to actually get rid of all of them." "Oh," Rac said. "Is this place safe?" "The hospital? Probably. I can''t imagine the army using it without clearing the building first." Actually, from the reports I tapped into only a full third of the building was cleared before use. The rest has been verified, but there''s a team still actively doing a deep search for antithesis life in the hospital. Well, that was concerning. "I guess they needed the facilities badly enough," I muttered. We got into the elevator, then were pushed to the back as someone pushed another gurney in. This one had some kid on it who was too knocked-out to notice much of anything. The nurse pushing the bed didn''t register us until the elevator was going up already. When she did, she jumped and started to apologize but I waved her off. It was fine, we didn''t mind the slight wait. It was one thing to short some exec to get somewhere faster, but I wasn''t a stone cold bitch. I glanced at the chart at the foot of the bed, it was some tablet with a lot of codes, but on looking at it Myalis placed the code translations next to them. Kid had a ruptured spleen? Well, at least that didn''t sound like an antithesis thing. Not that I knew what a spleen was. We left the kid on the second floor, which seemed pretty damned busy, then continued to ride up to the topmost floor of the elevator. According to the panel, it was the admin floor, which I supposed made sense. The bosses would want the nicest view. Stepping out, we were greeted by more soldiers but they quickly let us through, one of them gesturing towards a room where the others were waiting for us. A long conference table was set up in the centre of the room, with General Thibodeau at the far end and all of the commanders minus one lined up to his right. "And what''s the plan?" Hedgehog asked. The officers were interested too. "It''s mostly Grasshopper''s plan," I deferred. "Thank god for that," Hedgehog muttered. He probably didn''t account for my very good hearing. I wanted to glare but... shit, the dude was right. I cleared my throat. "Anyway. Grasshopper says that we need help, so here I am, recruiting you all into helping. We''re going to need a heap of stuff, and I don''t even know where to begin, but the first thing we need is a private, secure staging area, and we''re probably going to need to build stuff there in a hurry." Major Tinwhistle sat up straighter. "You''re gonna need my engineers," she said. "Yup. And we''re going to need a secure perimeter. Both from the aliens who might be pissed that we''re blowing up their moon and also from... you know, everyone else. Corps might wanna steal our ammo, other countries might not like the fact that we''ll have a gun here that can blow up moons. Might even get some pushback from people like the Family. They''re not in any hurry to save everyone before they can get the most concessions out of it." "What sorta ammo?" Crackshot asked. "Might count on you for some of that," I admitted. "I''ve got bombs for days. Gomorrah has... fire stuff. I think we might adopt the good old ''throw shit and see what works'' method on this one. I think we''ll just order up a bunch and then fire it off later." The general raised a hand for attention, somehow he made it look serious and not like a too-old kid in a classroom. "Are you suggesting that we''ll be storing weapons of mass destruction on Canadian soil?" "I mean, we might build a bunker or something for it, so it''ll be under the soil," I pointed out. He didn''t seem to find the distinction funny or relevant. "I''m very much inclined to deny this entire project based on that alone. However... the consequences of failure would be worse for the people, economy, and territory." "You bet," I said. "Besides, if you say no, we''re just gonna do it anyway." He stared. "Really?" "I mean... yes? There''s a dozen samurai on this project. I don''t mean to be a bitch, but we''re getting this done." He nodded. "That''s enough of a reason for me," he said. "Lieutenant Juno, I want you and Moreau to split off three platoons each from your battalions, tell them that this mission is rated above top secret. Tinwhistle?" "Sir?" "Give them whatever they want and make it speedy. Only your best work here. Forget the budget." "Words I''ve always wanted to hear," she said. *** Chapter Thirty-Five - The Cat, the Raccoon, and the Cowboy Chapter Thirty-Five - The Cat, the Raccoon, and the Cowboy Chapter Thirty-Five - The Cat, the Raccoon, and the Cowboy "Staggering Number of Samurai Secretly Furries!" --ClickBaitEm headline, 2034 *** There was an awkward lull right after we said we''d get things done, and it was mostly my fault. The soldiers were looking to me to give them more directions. The other samurai were quickly growing impatient, even Tankette seemed a little antsy. "Alright," I said. "I''m calling Grasshopper to get things started. The rest of you... do what you want, but stick around? We''ll have to secure the area quick-like." That seemed to please everyone and at least won me a few seconds. "Rac, go say hi to all the nice samurai." I pushed her forwards, earning a quick and dirty glare before I stepped back and made a call. Grasshopper replied on the second ring. "This is Sue, how can I help you?" I blinked. "Grasshopper?" "Hello, Catherine," she said. "Is everything alright?" "Uh, yeah, look, I''ve secured some help, and I''m in a room with, uh." I did a quick head count. "Five and a half other samurai, not including Gomorrah and Sam-O-Ray who aren''t around yet. We''re ready to kick things off here, but I need more details." "Oh, wow, you work far faster than I expected. Gold star Cat!" "Yeah, thank--" I paused as a small greenish box appeared on the table in front of me. It had little grasshoppers printed along the edge. "Did you really just send me that?" I asked. I didn''t even know samurai could send things this far out. "You deserve it!" she said. "Now, what do you need from me?" "We need the specifics for the gun emplacement. Got the army engineer here with me, and we''re ready to move, we just don''t know where to move to." "I see. Do you mind if I contact the engineer directly?" she asked. "Or I could relay what I think we''ll need through you. It''s mostly about soil density and composition. We need a few specific things for the ideal location." "Right. Myalis, can you grab Major Tinwhistle and fold her into the call?" I asked aloud while waving to the Major for her attention. She sat a little straighter and soon the line clicked and she was greeting Grasshopper. I listened in as the two talked, and was very soon completely out of my depth. Grasshopper hadn''t been lying when she said she wanted to talk about soil composition. The Major and Grasshopper went on and on for a solid five minutes where all I did was stand there with my arms crossed, trying not to breathe hard enough for it to be caught in the call. "Alright, thank you, Major. I''ll be down in about two hours. Catherine, I''ll see you soon!" "Oh, yeah, see you soon," I said before the line went dead. The room had cleared out while we talked, Crackshot was the only samurai left, and he was mostly chatting to Rac about the various bits of his gun he was almost done reassembling. "Do we have a location, then?" I asked. "You didn''t hear?" Major Tinwhistle asked. "In any case, yes. About five kilometres north and west of Saint-Je?rome. The new kid, Gros Baton, will be happy, it''s relatively close to his hometown." "I guess so, can''t see why it wouldn''t be," I said. For some reason, Crackshot seemed pretty happy with that answer. Didn''t know what that was all about, but more power to him. "So, the world''s ending, eh?" he said as a sort of conversation starter. "Not if we succeed," I said. "Call me an idiot, but I''m a bit of an optimist." "Nah, never was one for optimism," he said. "But hey, this might be the kick in the ass I need. Will you be needing me right away?" "We''ll be setting up a base camp until Grasshopper arrives. Got something that needs doing?" "Yeah," he said with a serious nod. "If the world''s gonna end, then I''m gonna ask Miss Emoscythe Mordeath Noir out on a date." I stared at him for a moment. "Alright, shit, you''re a braver person than I am." "Yeah, but have you seen her? That is one fine woman." "No arguments there," I said. "Shoot your shot my guy. If she beats the shit out of you after saying no, that''s on you though." He sighed wistfully. "God, I wish." O-kay. And here I was thinking that Crackshot was one of the more level-headed of the bunch. Well, it didn''t matter. "Need my bike or something to get into the city?" "No, she wouldn''t appreciate it if I came around in something that wasn''t me. She puts a lot of weight on one''s self-image." I nodded. My new-ish bounty-hunter look was her fault. Emoscythe really was keen on having a good image. I could see why he''d think it was important before asking her out. We reached the exterior of the hospital where most of the others were lingering. "I''ll see you around, then," he said. "Yeah, good luck." "Good luck, Mister Cowboy," Rac said. "That... is one brave idiot," I said before turning to head out towards the others. *** Interlude - A Crackshots Crack Shot Interlude - A Crackshot''s Crack Shot Interlude - A Crackshot''s Crack Shot "What are my chances again?" he asked. It took a moment for Enyries to reply in his head ''Still not great. You have a one in seven thousand-two hundred chance.'' That had gone up a little since last time. Not much, but a little. "A chance is a chance," he said. "You miss every shot you don''t take." ''Well, yes, but sometimes you just miss regardless of whether you took the chance or not.'' He chuckled. "I get that, yeah. But if the world ends, then I want to go out knowing that I took that chance. It''s a man thing." ''If you say so.'' Buying a Romance Chance Calculation Software catalogue had been a weird choice for him. Not that he''d go back on it. It was interesting seeing the results pop up whenever he looked at someone. Some were interesting. Grasshopper was not romantically interested, period. Tankette, however... wow, that lady had wandering eyes. It threw up some weird results sometimes. Hedgehog was... kind of just a picky dude, but that was all. Crackshot had his thing shut off for anyone under eighteen, not because it couldn''t work on them, but because it squicked him out something mighty. Gomorrah was obviously into her maybe-girlfriend, but the Complication Matrix levels there were stupid high. Stray Cat and that Lucy girl? They had the same metrics as some couples he''d met who were happily married for thirty-plus years, which was wild. Cat was one crazy lady, in his humble opinion, and it made him worried about that Lucy girl too because there was no way she was sane if she was into that. None of that mattered at the moment. He was just distracting himself so that he didn''t have to think of what was coming up. He got off his iron horse, then tugged the horse''s rear-view mirror to the side to get a better look at himself. He was in a nice button-up shirt. All the buttons nice and shiny right up to his neck, collar on proper-like. It was a beige and red plaid-like pattern that he enjoyed. His jeans were nice and neat, pleated down the middle because he''d starched and ironed them himself. Bit stiff, but he could live with it. Boots were spit-shined like new. He''d even oiled his spurs. "Right," he muttered. "Now or never." The place was one of the biggest shopping spots in New Montreal. Big enough that even his country-bumpkin self had heard about it in ads and in passing. It was the kind of place that people would take a detour to visit if they had business in the city, just to say that they''d been. It was also where Emoscythe stayed. That might have been part of the mystique, he figured. A woman like that--not just a samurai--staying around was good enough of a reason for anyone to want to visit. He stepped into the place and soon enough he was lost in the crowd. "Yes ma''am," he said before he quickly removed his hat. Curse his fool brain, he was forgetting his manners. "Ma''am, I''m here to ask you something that might be inappropriate." She blinked. "Go on?" "I... I wouldn''t normally ask this sort of thing. I''m hardly a brave man, I''m afraid, but I suppose the world ending and all had shaken things loose. Miss Emoscythe Mordeath Noir, would you mind if I asked you out on a date?" She stared for a moment, then laughed, but she covered her mouth. There was mirth in her eyes, but not rejection. "How old are you?" she asked. "Twenty-two," he said. "I''m thirty-two, aren''t I a little old for you?" "I don''t mind that at all," he said. "In fact, I rather like it. Just how I like all the rest of the things I know about you." She tilted her head, exposing just a bit of lace-covered neck. By god, this woman would be the end of him. "You''re bold, aren''t you?" she asked. "I admire your courage, at least." "I reckon it''s not the sort of time for cowardice and hesitance," he said. She laughed, and he felt some of the tension in his shoulders loosening up. "Very well, Mister Crackshot Cowboy. I''ll allow you to take me out on a date." "Really?" he asked. "I mean, yes ma''am. Thank you, ma''am! How''s dinner sound?" "Right now?" "We''ve only got hours to go," he said. There were quite a few hours, of course, but still. He had to move while his bravery lasted. "I suppose I could eat. Dinner?" He nodded. "Dinner with you sounds lovely," he said honestly. The world might be ending but that didn''t mean this wasn''t the best day in his life. "One in seven thousand, eh?" he muttered, a smile sneaking onto his face. *** News: The Contests General Category Winners have been announced! News: The Contest''s General Category Winners have been announced! The General Contest has come to a close! And I have had to make some impossibly difficult choices. Still, after much consideration and tallying of votes (why was first place a 4-way tie?!) I''ve come to only one plausible conclusion. We''re getting two first-place winners! The most expensive option, but honestly, these stories deserve it. But before I dive into who won, let me highlight some other stories that did fantastically well! Not to say that I''m not proud of all the participants... Actually, a bit on that before I move on. I''m genuinely amazed and a little humbled by the sheer potential I saw over the course of this contest. So many of my readers, as it turns out, have fantastic amounts of skill. Some of it needs nurturing. I left notes for all of those writers on things they can work on. But what really took me off guard were the number of unique and powerful voices and styles I saw. Some were rough, sure, but it felt like I discovered two dozen really strong writers who just need a bit more practice and time to refine themselves into... competition? Wait, maybe I shouldn''t be encouraging you guys after all... hmm. , by DoomToaster struck a chord with me too. Maybe not as polished, but just brimming with potential. It''s worth giving it a try as well.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Woo~ Claps all around! Libitina is... genuinely the best start to an SCS fanfic I''ve yet seen. Masterful tone setting, lots of dystopian vibes, a main character with issues... god, so many issues, so much drama, so much or a broken mess of a person. It''s delicious to watch, written at a high professional standard, and leaves you wanting so much more! HAVOC made me cry. I''m not even kidding. I had to put it down, give Molly some walkies, and then return to it. Kenny is a good writer, one who''s been improving slowly but surely with lots of dedicated practice. Their technical skills are a smidge lower than NiameScrawl''s, which almost cost them the contest, but their emotional skills are... just so good! Any story that can leave you feeling distressed and angry and hopeful is worth the time it took to read, and HAVOC hits all of those notes! So yes! I''ll be posting the two winner''s stories here as new chapters momentarily. Please give them a read, I swear they''ll be worthy of your time! And to everyone else, thank you! You make a silly birb proud! Keep warm; stay cool, -RavensDagge SCS Fanfiction Contest Winner: Havoc, by Kenny Celican SCS Fanfiction Contest Winner: Havoc, by Kenny Celican Chapter One: Havoc Right at the beginning of the century we won a huge victory against governments impeding our mandate by inserting the concept of government ''death panels'', denying care to terminal patients, into the public consciousness. Employees mistakenly referring to Terminal Care Triage Officers or Offices as ''death panels'' will be penalized, up to and including loss of all company sponsored health care. No-Sick Medical Savings Plan Management Corporation *** Grief is a strange thing. Nothing but personal anecdotes for this, but it''s even stranger when you''re not ''normal''. You know, not ''straight'', ''cis'', ''neurotypical''. All that good stuff. Today I''m sitting here grieving one of the two women sitting in front of me talking. If she thought about it, if she still could think about it, she''d probably tell me to stop. Let me cry on her shoulder; Hold me, like I wish I could hold her right now. I mean, I''m holding her hand, and she isn''t pulling away like she might on a bad day. I still remembered the brief, shining window of time when people would come up to us and comment on our public displays of affection, and she''d look them square in the eye while she pulled me in for some good old-fashioned tonsil hockey. But now she can''t even remember those times. Not really. Her augs remind her, and it helps sometimes. But today? I can tell her mirror scared her too much to believe what the augs told her this morning. "Hey, Mom." Our older boy looks uncomfortable as he speaks through the split screen of the tablet his daughter brought with her today. His younger brother takes up the other half of the screen, but I can tell by the look on his face he''s doing something else right now. I can''t really blame him. He handles grief more like me; Hold it back until some weird quiet moment feels safe enough, then let the gritty sludge that remains leak out until the pressure is gone. He''s here though, here for his mom despite all their incessant spats over the years. The love of my life looks at our boy, glances at me, takes in my nod, and smiles at him. "Hello son. How are you doing today?" "I''m... I''m good, Mom." He''s breaking down already. He couldn''t make it in person today, and I''m almost glad he couldn''t. I want her last day to be as happy as it can be, and he''s about to lose it. I click my tongue a little, and he looks at me. "Have you taken your allergy meds?" He hasn''t needed those for years, not on a regular basis. "I don''t need them, Dad." I smile. "You look a little puffy. You don''t want Mom to remember you all puffy and sneezing, with your eyes running, do you?" He finally takes the hint. "Nah, nah, you''re right. I''m good for now though." His smile is brittle, but he keeps it up like a trooper. "Just let us know when you need to go. Looks like you got into something pretty bad. Maybe at work?" "Yeah, probably at work. Hey, Mom, did you get the pictures I sent you of Sol?" She pauses, checking her augs. "Oh, yeah, I did! They''re getting so big!" "He, Mom." "He?" "He." She nods, trying to hide her embarrassment at misgendering her own grandson. "How old is he now?" That almost breaks him, but he hangs in there. "He''s fourteen, Mom. Just turned fourteen last month." She tries again. "He... looks a lot like you did back when you were his age." I realize she''s slipped, that the augs aren''t catching her. I step in before she gets too lost. "I can see it. In the face. He''s got your nose. Your eyes. He''s definitely got the build you had back then." She tries to recover, tries to pretend like she remembers. "Oh. Oh, yes. You look... like... your father did at your age." I snort. "Yeah, ''cept he''s still got all his hair." I rub my hand across the top of my head, feeling the stubble where long ago I had a widow''s peak, and the smooth skin around it. My dad used to use it for a combover. I usually just shaved that bit down, leaving a halo of hair around the back of my head at the level of my temples. She told me to do that after the time I used enough product to make it stick out like a unicorn horn. Before anybody uses the word ''simp'', she''s the love of my life, and from the first time she said yes, making her happy was more important to me than anything else. More important than actual important shit. Way more important than some trivial detail like my hairstyle. She wants my hair short, I cut it short, she wants it long, I grow it long. I don''t give a shit about anything but making her happy. Not sure I ever did. I tap my augs to check our bank account. Her living will came into play when it got low enough, because she didn''t want me starving on the street because of her medical bills. She recorded that decision in her augs decades ago, before she needed them to remind her of the date. The month. The year. The name of the man sleeping next to her. "Hey, Dad? I gotta go. Loonie, you gonna come home soon?" My granddaughter sighs, her dark fingers interlacing with my own. Someday in the future she''ll be in my position. I don''t envy her that. She''ll have her brother for backup, though, and I do envy that. She''s here to support me, but mostly because I just don''t have the energy to dispose of the cremains the way my love always told me she wanted. I mean, what my wife wants is illegal as fuck, but neither Loonie nor I give the first shit about that. "I''ll come visit when I''m done helping Granddad." "Okay." He sniffles. "Sorry, Mom. I gotta... I gotta go. I love you." "I love you too, son." In that one phrase I hear the thing I''ve always loved most. She sees someone hurting and no matter her own pain and confusion she steps up to help. In that moment she does love him. Maybe a tiny bit of it is her confusing him for me. Maybe another tiny bit is her playing the role of Mom. But most of it? It''s the purest kind of love, looking at another human being and just... caring for them. Not because you''re obligated, but because they''re another human being. Our older boy disconnects, and I tap into my wife''s augs. Then I do the same with the machine behind her, letting me hear the beeps we''ve silenced so she won''t be curious and look. Won''t twist her head around and feel the shunts keeping her alive. The ones that''ll stop keeping her alive in another half hour or so when all our carefully hoarded and frugally spent medical funds run out. I''ve got half an hour left before I''m alone. Loonie will stick around long enough to collect the cremains, but she''s only got so much time off work, and if she doesn''t use it when she''s scheduled to, starting a few hours from now, she''ll still lose it. Right now, she''s gaming the system just like I taught her, sitting with a terminal patient in her cafeteria, so she can wheel her corpse away before any of the other customers freak out. At that point it''ll just be me. I technically have enough in my account to survive at least another few years, especially if I frugal it up and move back in with my nephews; we own the property, so all I''ll need to pay for is food and my share of the utilities. I''m not gonna do that, though. We talked about it decades ago. Well, I rambled on until she turned to me and said, ''don''t be lonely''. So, I won''t. There are a few places in the world where for the right price, you can get not just companionship, but companions that come with their own stockpile of drinks and drugs and toys and tricks, and where if you pay a little extra and sign a waiver, they won''t worry about things like ''you''re not healthy enough for that''. They''ll ignore every warning until it''s way, way too late. Seriously, a Plexiglas coffin that puts me to sleep? I couldn''t do that. I could buy enough booze and downers to put myself down, but there''s no guarantee I could keep them down, or take enough. Some kind, misguided soul might call an ambulance. But this way? I''ll have somebody there who knows what I want. Maybe even somebody kind enough to hold me till I flatline. Maybe not, maybe I''ll get somebody who just takes my money, locks the door, and walks away, leaving me to die alone. But that''ll be fine too, so long as they let me go. "Rat? You got anything you wanna say to Mom?" Our younger boy jerks a little as my tone jerks him out of his hyper focus. "Oh! Yeah, sorry. Little distracted." He looks up at his mom, and I see in his eyes that he knows she probably doesn''t know him. "I love you, Mom. Even if I don''t show it right. But I do. Always have, always..." The screen cuts out, leaving us and our granddaughter disconnected from our son, her uncle. The lights cut out, leaving us in darkness. The machines over my wife''s shoulder cut out, leaving me in silence. It could be a power outage. Those happen, down here where the buildings predate the megastructures above. Not that Philly is a proper ''megacity'', really. It''s got some megascrapers, it''s got an undercity, but between the river, the uneven terrain, the tradition of keeping the city low to the ground, the undercity never quite fell into quite as much disrepair as it did in places like New York. Of course, the parts that most resemble a Megacity are those here in what used to be Center City. One of the support pillars for the megascraper above us is visible through the broad windows set high up on the walls of the cafeteria. When I worked here sixty years ago, this room could never really be dark like it is now. Loonie stands up, a dim silhouette in the darkness. "I''ll go check..." I leave my cart by the fans and walk back to my wife''s slumped body. "Kinda stupid of me to ask, but anything else you want me to do? Before you go? Or even after?" I take her hand in mine as I sit down, and she whispers into my head, "I''ll let you know." We sit there like that, the food smell growing stronger, as her last seconds tick down. "Are you cooking?" "Kinda sorta." "Oh. I smelled it, but then it went away." Tears run down my face. Funny. Now, at the very end? I seem to be grieving sort of properly. Or no. Somehow my neurospicy brain has decided that now feels ''safe enough''. Fuck it. Not like anyone will see it. Not like I''d care if they did. "Your sense of smell has gone then." I squeeze her fingers. "Can you feel my hand in yours?" "Ye..." A long pause grips my heart. "Not anymore." "Fuck." "Little late for that." "Little late for everything except... I love you. I always have. Every second of every minute of every day for the last sixty-three years." No response. Just a kind of warm sigh. I settle in, waiting to see an alien in person for the first time in my life. Then a single word wafts out of her augs. "Chosen?" She hasn''t called me by that pet name since back in the nineties. "Yes, Beloved?" One final word comes through, a ghost of a sigh, one I only recognize and understand because I''ve heard her speak it so often in jest, in play, in frustrated rage. This time nothing marks it but final sincerity. "Havoc." I don''t know if she hears my response. I hope she does and leaves this mortal coil with a smile on her soul. I hope she doesn''t feel obligated to respond, or like I had to have the very last word. "As you wish." I never realized she knew I''d thought about something like this. Always thought I''d kept this side hidden well enough. That all the jokes where I''d obscured the truth with laughter had passed her by. I''d always feared she wouldn''t stay if she knew. I set her hand on her lap, stand up, and walk back to the fans. As I walk, I initiate a cross-load of all the data from her augs to mine. Then another script that triggers a cascade of deletions, not just from my augs, but everywhere I''ve visited and lurked over the past few decades. Online, Mesh, Corp sites I spent a lot of time on. Hot, greasy wind blasts me in the face as I approach the kitchen. I step in, turn off all the burners, count to ten, then flip the gas back on, careful not to activate the auto-ignition. I step out to the fans and my cart. One at a time I grab each of the bags on the cart, rip them open, and fling the contents into one fan or the other, blasting their contents out into the big open space of the cafeteria. Flour. Powdered sugar. Even a few big containers of powdered spices. Anything powdered and flammable. It''s hard to breathe when I take my first step back toward our table. I lean on the wall. There''s a fire alarm right there. I smash it, pull it, and stumble back to where my wife''s body sits. Halfway there I stop to lean against a popcorn cart. I notice something, shrug, and screw the feed hose off the propane tank, cranking the feed open with my other hand. I finally drop into my chair and take her hand in mine. The pungent chemical they add to cooking gas to make the methane easier to detect wafts into my nose. With my free hand I scrabble in my vest pocket as I check my augs. I''ve cross-loaded everything she''s recorded over the decades. I''ll never have a chance to look at it, but I''d done it for the same reason I hold her hand; I couldn''t not do it if I tried I check my scripts, or what''s left of them as they''ve gone on their targeted rampage across the electronic landscape. All the telltales come up green. Good thing, I couldn''t follow up if I wanted to. It took me decades to fall prey to the same kind of thing that stole my wife away from me so long ago, but after watching her I''d seen it coming. She grew terrified of the woman who haunted her mirrors. I gradually fixated on people ''spying'' on my online presence. But I''d leaned on my augs far earlier, lost far less of me, managed to beg, borrow, or steal the code for my scripts. Nothing better to do with my time over the past three decades but geek out over the real-life superheroes fighting against the alien invaders and compile an electronic cluster bomb that would erase all electronic traces of my existence. Had to have hobbies to fight mental decay, after all. But by now the scripts I''d set off have hashed, changed, deleted, or otherwise screwed with every trace of my identity I''d left behind, including the scripts themselves. Including my own augs. I''m okay with that. I''ve always been sort of fluid, and where others like me sought out the perfect label to represent their fluidity, I just let everyone call me what they would. My identity is me, not a collection of syllables. So now nobody can track any of what I''m about to do back to me, because ''me'' doesn''t exist. More importantly? Our boys? Sol? Loonie? None of them will get a bill for it. I send a message to the hospital, to building management in the megastructure above us, to what remains of the city government. "I have placed a large-scale improvised explosive device next to Jefferson megascraper support D, and will detonate it shortly. Evacuate or seek shelter immediately." My due diligence done, I focus on the feel of my wife''s right hand in my left, trying to ignore the hard metal in the palm of my right hand. She gave it to me a while back, a sort of random gift, something I thought looked cool. I don''t think she ever thought I''d use it for something like this. Then again, she stayed with me all those years. Stayed when she knew, even though I thought she didn''t. We sit there like that for a while, until I hear scrabbling outside the big outer doors. I watch the first couple aliens enter the cafeteria. Quadrupeds with tripartite jaws. Model Threes. After a handful come in, a smattering of little flying guys swoop over their heads. Model Ones. "Fuckin'' seagulls." The air tastes heavy with grease and faux methane smell. The room spins, and my head flops back. I''m barely able to see the windows from all the powder in the air. The Model Threes see the movement, moving towards us at a cautious saunter. If we ran or charged, they''d be aggressive, but this? We''re just more biomass in a room that reeks of it. I''m from Jersey, not Philly like her. But after sixty years, not to mention me tying the augs that were us together, the line where one of us ends and the other starts is almost meaningless. So, our last words are a me?lange of traditional Philly and Jersey greetings to our interstellar visitors, with our own pedantic loquaciousness tying it all together. "Welcome to Philly. We see you''ve taken it upon yourself to fuck around. You are now cordially invited to find out, then go the fuck home." We press the button on my jet lighter. Light. Sound. Motion. Pain. Darkness, silence, and crushing weight. We have no idea how, but we''re conscious. We think. If this is the afterlife, it''s remarkably boring. No light, no sound, just a vague sense of pressure. But we''re here together, I guess. Could be worse. Then, a single voice, beautiful in its purity and sense of purpose, rings through our head. System Initialized! Congratulations. Through your actions you have proven yourself worthy of becoming one of the Vanguard, a defender of humanity. I am Stryt. I will assist you to uplift humanity so that you may defend your homeworld from the Antithesis threat! Rise, #!#!@$@ #!@!%!@@#@!@), and become a protector of the weak! *** You can find more of Kenny''s works here: Kenny Celican''s Fictions | Royal Road If you enjoyed Havoc, then you should check it out on RR and encourage Kenny to write more! SCS Fanfiction Contest Winner: Libitania, by NiameScrawls SCS Fanfiction Contest Winner: Libitania, by NiameScrawls Chapter 1 INCURSION DETECTED. PLEASE REMAIN CALM, AND PROCEED TO THE NEAREST SHELTER. Libi jerked back as the bright red letters flashed across her augs, startling her into dropping the fine white chalk she had been using. "Please try not to panic, everyone," she shouted, the noise of her voice failing to mask a loud CRACK as her chalk shattered across the ground. Suppressing a curse that would have deducted her teaching score, Libi bent down to carefully collect the precious shards. Chalk was an expensive and messy alternative to the usual digi-pen every classroom came with, but Libi could afford to be old-fashioned. "Does it look like we''re panicking, Professor?" A cool, elegant voice interrupted her thoughts, courtesy of a tall, bespeckled young man. His black slicked back hair looked a bit like a giant snail had given him a comb over, but apparently that was all the rage amongst the students these days. "No, Curtis," Libi sighed, straightening up again. ''You''re all far too callous to panic.'' Libi managed to cut off the rest of the thought before it escaped her lips, but it hung heavy on her mind as she looked over her class of excitedly whispering students. It was a sight Libi was uncomfortably familiar with; sixty-two students of Dal-Corp''s finest freshmen eagerly chattering over a world of death and destruction that they thought only existed in their augs. They were spread out across the tiered seating of the lecture hall. Each sat behind an enormous black desk that resembled a barricade more than a piece of furniture; a design that made every lecture feel more like a siege than a lesson. The room itself did little to discourage that impression; brutalist concrete walls created monoliths to a distant, uncaring ceiling of black obsidian. The primary splash of colour came from the floor; a bloody red carpet strung atop a black marble floor like circuitry across a motherboard. It was a look that matched how every class felt; a training camp for soldiers of cold logic of which Libi unwillingly commanded. As for the students themselves, collectively they represented some of the wealthiest and most powerful corpo families Nova Halifax had to offer; plus a few token scholarship cases thrown in with the mix. Regardless of their circumstances, they all attended class consistently. Libi wasn''t sure what it was that drew them to her lectures so much, but it certainly wasn''t to learn; at least judging by the way the students eagerly whispered amongst themselves as they scrolled through their augs. Another example of Libi''s failure to teach them anything other than biology. The incursion notice had whipped them up into a gossiping frenzy, with some even making bets - as if a live alien invasion was an exciting game show. Not that Libi was any better. She was amongst the fortunate few, lucky enough to escape the horrors of nightmarish monsters rampaging through the streets. None of them had to watch their family members get torn shreds before them, nor hide under the bodies of the- Libi cut the thought short before it went any further. "Take a five minute break," she sighed. There was no point trying to teach when they were so distracted. "Call your families, check on your friends, scroll your aug feeds. We''ll resume class after we''ve had a chance to decompress." The students immediately exploded into activity as their shackles were released, crowding around one another to gossip and chatter about the extra dimensional invasion. The only exceptions were the few scholarship students who immediately began making desperate phone calls to their families, their voices drowned out by the excited chatter and laughter of those who had no reason to worry for their families'' safety. Libi chose to copy the scholarship students'' actions. Finding a private corner in the hall, she pulled up her contacts and called the only favorited number there. "Mrs. Irvil!" The phone barely had a moment to start paging before it was answered by a voice riddled with anxiety. "Victoria. I believe I asked you not to call me that," replied Libi, her own voice immediately cooling. "Ah- right- I''m sorry, Dr. Libitina," stammered the young woman on the other end. "I sometimes forget-" "How are my children doing?" interrupted Libi. "Are they safe?" "Yes! Adrian expressed some anxiety, and Adrianna asked after you, but I was able to distract them with a book." "Good. Keep them off the aug streams; they''re full of chatter about the antithesis, and I don''t want the children to have anything to do with it," replied Libi curtly. "R-righto! No problem!" "Has my husband called yet?" "Uhhh..." Victoria''s awkward silence was an answer in itself. "Last I spoke to him was last week, I think." "What about my mother?" ''Good job Libi. Very comforting for eight year olds to hear. May as well add a few more zeros to their twenty year therapy bill now, why don''t you.'' It was the first thought that day she didn''t cut short. - When she turned back to the class, the students were still buzzing about like bees. "Alright, everyone back to your seats. Augs off, please," she called loudly, her voice easily drowning out the chatter. "We still have an exam on Wednesday, and unfortunately Dal-U Corp does not accept alien invasions as a valid excuse for half of my class failing." "Professor! Do we have to continue?" whined a neon pink haired girl. "This might be my only chance to become a samurai!" "No one in this classroom is becoming a samurai, let me assure you of that, Annie," answered Libi emphatically. "The requirements for ascension are well known, and you''re more likely to die of an aug-short than fight an alien. Now, if there are no further interruptions, can we please continue with the class?" she asked, trying and failing to keep the exasperation out of her voice. Fortunately, it was enough for the students to begrudgingly focus their attention onto her. "I know the history of marine biology is hardly exciting compared to an Incursion, but I may as well make today''s lesson relevant. Can anyone tell me the basic components of an Antithesis cell?" An unsteady silence began to settle over the class as they considered the question. "Annie, you know I can see you looking up the answer, right? An Incursion may be happening, but the school''s anti-cheat hasn''t stopped working." The neon pink girl merely stuck her tongue out at her, switching her augs over to a Princess Magical Bubblegum Apocalypse stream as she did so. Libi sighed and pointed instead at a different student whose hand was hesitantly raised. "Yes, Erika?" "Cell walls, chloroplasts... and... vacuoles?" she answered, her usual English lilt tilting up in skepticism. "Correct, but you''re still missing a few components. What makes them different from typical plant cells?" "They''re out to kill everyone?" said a young man with long spiky hair, eliciting a half-hearted laugh from the class at the attempted humour. "Well, you''re not wrong there. But does anyone know why?" Another moment of silence followed before Erika tried again. "Trogon...aptic?" "Trogonanaptyx. From the Greek phrase Tro?gontas ana?ptyxi, meaning eating growth," Libi said, writing down the spelling of the word as she spoke. "It''s an enzyme, specialized in breaking down foreign organic material into usable DNA. An Antithesis cell can then use this DNA information to divide, creating new cell variations far quicker than normal evolutionary methods." "This then leads to a form of ongoing biological warfare within an Antithesis Hive, with successful variations-" She cut off as a second set of bright red letters blared across her augs, blinding her for a second time that day. ATTENTION! DAL-U CORP FACILITIES ARE UNDER IMMEDIATE LOCKDOWN DUE TO ANTITHESIS BREACH. TAKE SHELTER IN THE NEAREST CLASSROOM AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS It turns out they DO know how to properly react to an Incursion, thought Libi idly as she watched the class turn into a screaming panic. *** You can find more of Niame''s works here: Niame''s Fictions | Royal Road If you enjoyed Libitina, then you should check it out on RR and encourage Niama to write more! She also has an Instagram: Login ? Instagram and a discord: Discord - Group Chat That''s All Fun & Games Chapter Thirty-Six - Diggy Diggy Hole Chapter Thirty-Six - Diggy Diggy Hole Chapter Thirty-Six - Diggy Diggy Hole "One must understand physics. It makes it so much more interesting when you bend what you know to be absolutely true over and up and back into itself, because even as we break physics, the fundamental truth of it stands. It just becomes far more complex. And I think that''s beautiful!" --Grasshopper''s Guide to Physics for Kids for K-3, 2055 *** The next morning, after a nice breakfast, catching up with the Kittens around the house, and giving Lucy a parting kiss that broke the minute mark, I picked up Rac from her corner of the house, then headed out again. I could have stayed at the site the night before but... why would I ever want to do that? Sleep in a tent that belonged to some sweaty soldier or sleep in my bed, at home, with a warm Lucy? It wasn''t even a choice. Rac seemed to prefer to head back home as well, which was only fair. What was more surprising was discovering her ready to head out the next morning. I half expected her to want to go out and do her own shit. Still, I decided not to comment on it. I knew for a fact that if I was doing something helpful for someone and they made a comment, even a positive one, the chances that I''d want to keep it up were slim. Oh, and I had to gear up a little better. The day before I''d been heading out in more casual gear. It was a little strange to think that I had enough clothes, let alone armour, that I had to choose between sets, but that''s how it was. Lucy had found a place to dry-clean that armour I''d... shed in. I inspected it real close and didn''t find anything suspicious or gross, so that''s what I was wearing again. It was better armour in any case, and it was the set that Emoscythe had helped design. We rode my bike back across the city and through the countryside beyond. When we arrived near the site I noticed two things. First, we weren''t alone in the air. There were several balloons hovering a kilometre or so up in the air. Looking at them made my augs fritz a little on the edges, like they were glitching out. The balloons were set in a circle around the entire site at more or less even intervals. The second thing I noticed was that shit had been moving overnight. I wasn''t sure what criteria Grasshopper had for a space, but they''d found it in what was essentially a roadside stop. One of those little sideroads that lead to what was basically a large parking space in the middle of fuckall nowhere. It was surrounded by some sparse forest that was overtaking what had probably been fields once. When I''d left, the engineers were going to set up a camp. Tents, the mobile base, some trucks and shit. It wasn''t fancy. Now? There was a trench being dug out of the earth by three tractors. A crane was set up to one side, moving loads of crap out of the way. Dump trucks were moving about, and there were six cement mixer trucks parked in a neat row off to one side with their drums spinning away. There were more people, too, moving with speed. I''d seen a few construction sites here or there. I''d never seen one where the workers all jogged around as if their boss was whipping their asses. I suffered through some pleasantries, not quite daring to pull my hand free from Grasshopper''s grip because that might have been just a little too rude. She chatted with Rac, then remembered that she was leading me somewhere. So back outside we went, this time straight towards the big hole that was being dug out. It was long and pretty narrow, maybe thirty-ish metres wide, a hundred long or so? The hole wasn''t super deep yet, but it looked like it was being dug out. "Once this is done it''ll have room for a cannon half a kilometre long buried twenty metres into the ground and anchored into the bedrock. The water-table here is quite low, and the ground is mostly solid stone. It''s going to make digging deeper a bit tricky, but we have lots of high explosives and plenty of manpower!" "Uh, wait, we''re digging that big of a hole for the base of the cannon?" I asked. Grasshopper turned and blinked at me. "No, it''s for the entire cannon." "So how long is it?" I asked. "One kilometre long," she said. "And we need a kilometre-long base for that?" She stared, then something lit up in her eyes. "Oh! No no, we''re not pointing this upwards, Catherine. This will be level with the ground. Well, level with gravity, actually." "I am real confused," I said. "Isn''t the enemy, you know..." I gestured vaguely upwards. "In space?" "Of course! But shooting something through our atmosphere would be quite silly. The drag, the gravity." She shook her head, then gestured to my hip. "That gave me a brilliant idea." I looked down to where Void Terminus was hanging by my side. I''d gotten pretty used to the sword''s weight by now. "My sword?" "Your sword-shaped portal into space," she corrected gently. "Why shoot through atmosphere when you can fire a quarter-ton sabot through a kilometre-long magnetic rail right into a portal whose exit is already in orbit? In orbit and on its way to Phobos, even! Though at the speed that the exit-portal, or rather the machine holding it, is moving, the difference in range is rather negligible." "Oh," I said. I eyed the growing hole again. "Oh." Yeah, no wonder Grasshopper wanted this to be kept on the down-low. People would shit themselves for this kind of tech, or this kind of weapon. And we were going to use it to punch bullets at space aliens... actually, that was probably a great use for this kind of thing. *** Chapter Thirty-Seven - Honest Samurai Reviews Chapter Thirty-Seven - Honest Samurai Reviews Chapter Thirty-Seven - Honest Samurai Reviews "Look, I don''t care how woke your review is, the audience won''t care what you have to say if you can''t even beat the first fucking level!" -GamersPortal Comment, 2029 *** I kind of expected things to move faster than they were, but it was clear a few hours in that I had set my expectations at one level and reality was conspiring to be at another. Which was fine, I supposed. Basically, while Grasshopper expected the big gun to be ready by nightfall, Major Tinwhistle was a bit more conservative. "By tonight?" she asked when she finally had a spare minute where she wasn''t screaming at people not to fuck up. "I... suppose it''s possible, but only if by tonight you mean before the sun rises. Even then, that means my guys will be working through the night."ViiSiit for latest novels "Would letting them get some rest be better?" I asked. "Do you work at your best without sleep?" she asked right back. That was a fair point. I wasn''t the best when I was cranky. Grasshopper hummed. "That''s unfortunate, but it''s not altogether unexpected. To be quite honest we are still a ways ahead of where I expected to be, so I can hardly complain. You''ve been doing good work. All of your people have." Major Tinwhistle nodded, but by the set of her shoulders I could tell she was proud to hear that. "Just make sure you let the general know. I don''t want to die a Major. This kind of project is either the kind of thing that''ll be so black-listed and classified that it won''t help me get promoted at all, or it''ll be the kind of thing that''s so big they won''t have a choice but to pin a medal on my chest." I laughed. "You have things figured out," I said. "But yeah, give your guys a break, I think we''ll be fine finishing the big gun tomorrow. Right?" Grasshopper nodded. "We will. We can likely start purchasing some things now. I intend to buy some construction drones in any case. They''ll be able to work through the night." "Oh?" Tinwhistle asked. "I wouldn''t say no to Samurai-tech help." "Hmm, mine are all back home," I said. "But I don''t think it''s suitable for this kind of thing." "It''s fine," Grasshopper said. "I will be purchasing large amounts of raw materials. Mister Hedgehog and Miss Princess said that their catalogues couldn''t truly help with the gun itself, but they''re willing to share the cost for the materials required to build the basing structure." "What did you buy?" I asked. Grasshopper tapped her chin. "I''m buying the main gun. I think I have the largest pool of free points to spend on this kind of project. Miss Gomorrah is purchasing a number of shells for the gun as well as the fire-control computer. Mister Crackshot Cowboy bought the targeting system and its hardware already. He had a fantastic catalogue for that." I nodded along. "You should go see your friends too. Leave the logistics to the Major and I. You''re more of an... in-person leader, I think." "I''m not a leader at all," I said. "I just keep getting stuck having to boss people around. Doesn''t mean I like it. But yeah, sure. I''m worried Rac might be getting into some sort of trouble. I''ll be upset if someone drives her over with one of those tractors." Grasshopper giggled, the laugh making her look ten years younger and kind of ruining her more serious moment. "That would be awful. Go check on her, and on the others. Believe it or not, but all of them, from Gomorrah to Tankette, value your opinion.... Well, maybe not Hedgehog, I have the impression you struck him the wrong way." "Ah, yeah, that might be my fault, I was a little too honest." "Honesty can be tricky sometimes," she agreed easily. I waved goodbye to the Major who barely acknowledged me. She was in the middle of what looked like three simultaneous calls while two engineer-looking sorts were badgering her with questions, so I didn''t take umbrage at being ignored and just slipped out of the command tent. The place was still hustling, even more than when I''d arrived. There was now a mountain of loose dirt being piled up by the roadside, and more tractors had arrived and were shoving it out into a long wall of packed dirt and stone. The hole where the gun would be had gained another twenty metres or so in the last half hour and it looked like they had dropped another metre. It seemed like they were digging it out as a sort of ramp? I wasn''t sure and didn''t have the background to make anything approaching an intelligent guess, so I didn''t question it. I did find the others relatively easily. Tankette had brought her tank forwards next to a row of tents where they were serving food. She was helping, which I imagined continued to make her pretty popular with everyone here. Her smile suggested she was enjoying it. Princess and Knight were sitting at one table in that tent, looking a little awkward as they spoke to each other. No idea where Hedgehog was. And Rac... It took me a moment to find her. She was out by the edge of the hole that was being dug. Just far enough from it that I wasn''t instinctually worried she''d trip into it and actually get squished. Next to her, Gros Baton was saying something with a lot of gestures, and from the way their shoulders shook, they both laughed at whatever that was. Rac shoved him, and I caught his stupid grin from all the way out here. Well well, it seemed like I really was the best match-maker that ever was. Of course, if the little shit hurt her, no amount of being a samurai or a minor would save him. *** Chapter Thirty-Eight - Eggs Burny Side Up Chapter Thirty-Eight - Eggs Burny Side Up Chapter Thirty-Eight - Eggs Burny Side Up "With growing populations comes a growing need for housing. This need is answered in one of two ways. Mega projects, or Rapid-Fab Housing. Mega projects offer the most bang for a developer''s buck. Creating enclosed super structures where a corporation can control everything from police forces, to food sales, to climate control for its residents, ensuring a constant flow of revenue over the life of the structure. Rapid Fab, surprisingly, costs significantly more as land around a mega city tends to go for a premium. The houses themselves can be built to code in under a week, or built without respecting code--for a small fine--in under a day, ensuring housing demands are met for thousands of middle-class citizens all at once." --Except from Housing in the 21st Century, 2039 *** I was up and at''em early the next morning. Before noon, even. The group had set up a small chat about the Big Gun project, one handled by our respective AIs. I think it was safe to say that it was about as safe as a chatroom could be, even considering the number of people in it. I poked at the chatroom while Lucy made breakfast. This morning was a ''full English'' which meant that I got to sit at the kitchen island, hair still damp from a warm shower, and watch as an apron (and unfortunately more clothes) clad Lucy went about handling three pans and two disasters at the same time. "Holy shit, why do eggs cook so fast!" she grumbled as she moved a pan full of eggs over to a plate and tipped it over. Eggs slid off the non-stick surface and mostly landed on the plate. Half of them looked uncooked and runny. The other half were brown-turning-black on the edges. I smiled into a mug of warm coffee as Lucy ran the other way, stirred a pot filled with beans--from the resistance, I suspected some were now permanently welded to the bottom, then she poked at some sausages in the other pan. They spat and hissed, but actually looked pretty good. "You''ll get a hang of it." "I might hang someone, alright," Lucy muttered. "The site made this look easy! This is bullshit." "Wasn''t this like, the standard breakfast for a lot of places in the world?" I asked. "Eggs, sausage, toast, beans." "Fuck! The toast!" Luy ran over to the far end of the counter, almost tripped--which had me sitting bolt upright in case I needed to move--then made it to the bread... thing. The box with the foldy top that bread goes in, for some reason. She popped it open, revealing two end-bits of bread and nothing else. "Fuck!" "It''s okay, we don''t need toast," I said. "But I want toast," Lucy whined. Actually whined. I hadn''t heard her make such a pitiful noise in a while. The last time had definitely involved rope and had been a lot of fun. "Myalis can--" "At the gun site?" Lucy asked without turning around. She was trying to flip an egg over with a spatula. "Yeah. Seems like shit''s actually getting done. At this rate we might be able to fire the thing today. Kinda wild, to be honest." "That is impressively fast," Lucy said. "But I guess it''s not that surprising. We''ve both seen megabuildings go up." I nodded. Usually a new megabuilding took like, one or two years to be built? More or less. That sounded like a long time until you stood on the edge of the giant gap where the building would be one day, and a year later there was fifty floors of impossibly thick building in place. The rate those things went up at was kinda nuts. I always liked seeing the timelapses. "The wall around the city went up fast too," I said. "Simpler than a building, I guess," Lucy said. "Weren''t the slabs for it pre-made? I remember hearing something like that." "I guess?" I said. I didn''t know for sure, and I honestly hadn''t paid that much attention. Lucy put something on a plate, then picked up a piece of toast, buttered it, and placed it down. She spun, a big, ridiculously proud smile on full display. "Speaking of pre-made, or rather, absolutely not pre-made, breakfast is ready!" She set the plate down, and I caught a strong whiff of it. Freshly cooked eggs, slightly burned beans, buttered toast. My mouth watered. "Did I tell you that I love you today?" I asked. "Only twice so far," Lucy said. "I could stand to hear it more." I looked up, meeting her eyes. "I love you." Lucy smiled, the image of self-satisfied smugness. "Damn right," she said. "Not gonna say it back?" I asked as I picked up a fork and started to dig in. "Bitch, I made you breakfast, ain''t no ''I love you'' stronger than that." I laughed between bites, then savoured the meal while Lucy put the rest into some bowls and plates and set them on the counter. A few kittens had been spying on the kitchen for a while now, and they came over to grab what they could, like wild animals lurking around the back exit of a fast food joint. Lucy eventually cornered Bargain and Nose and traded food for elbow grease, both of them agreeing--under penalty of slow, painful death if they went back on their word--to do the dishes in exchange for food. It was a nice morning to what I suspected was going to be a nice day. Now I just had to see if Rac wanted to come along and then head out. If all went well, we''d be averting the end of the world by supper time. *** Chapter Thirty-Nine - I Want to Lick Your Eyeball Chapter Thirty-Nine - I Want to Lick Your Eyeball Chapter Thirty-Nine - I Want to Lick Your Eyeball "Do not, under any circumstance, lick someone''s eyeball. We do not endorse any eyeball-licking memes." --PSA from the Ophthalmologists Association of USTwo, 2041 *** I found Rac all geared up and waiting for me by the entrance. She was in her skin-tight armoured suit, but with a loose t-shirt and shorts atop it, as well as a beaten up old denim jacket. "I''m digging the mixed material look," I said. "The what?" she asked. "You know, fancy high tech undersuit, low tech grunge over it?" I asked. Rac gave me a look, as if she was questioning my sanity which... alright, fair. Rac was one of those few who grew up in a situation shittier than my own, she deserved a break. "Do you mind if I come with you again? Or would you rather I stay here to work?" "You mean with the printer?" I asked. She nodded. "I loaded it this morning, and brought some prosthetics down to the clinic already. Miss See-Three took those I made this morning and the batch from last night too." "You got two batches off since last night?" I asked. I was moderately impressed. "When did you even start?" "This morning?" she said. "It''s almost noon." Oh, right. Some people woke up early. "You''re a morning person, then?" "No," she said. "I don''t need much sleep." We both stepped into the elevator while I chewed on that. "You know, you''ll never grow big and tall if you don''t get enough sleep, right?" "Is that why you''re tall? You sleep a lot?" I poked her in the shoulder. "Rude. But probably not entirely inaccurate, to be honest. I''m an expert at napping." The elevator stopped at the parking garage, and we stepped out and towards my bike which was parked nearby. We got on, took off, and soon were zipping across New Montreal heading north again. I was totally ready to bee-line straight to the Big Gun site when I got spooked by Myalis talking in my head. There are several monitoring systems observing you. "Oh, shit," I said. We were just out of the city limits, past the new walls. "Should I start evasive manoeuvres?" No. There have always been a number of systems that have observed your flight. Most of these related to traffic control, or part of the New Montreal defensive grid--tracking system for the close-in weapons systems mounted on the walls. "We''re being aimed at?" I asked. Princess clapped her hands. "Oh, right! We came to meet you because Grasshopper wants to talk. It''s important." "Oh, right, I''m supposed to buy some parts for the gun, right?" "That too!" she said. "But no, it''s mostly because of interference." I felt my brows knitting together. "Interference?" I repeated. "Is some political fuckwit sticking their dick in our project or something? Because I have solutions for that kind of thing." Princess giggled and shook her head. "Nope. It''s from other samurai." I blinked at that. "Wait, what?" "You might want Grasshopper to explain it," she said. "She''ll do a better job of it than I can." "Basically," Knight said. "We''re not the only ones trying to stop the end of the world. We''re not the first either, and some others have called dibs on blowing up the moon." I shook my head. Unbelievable. Princess and Knight escorted me across the site to where a few temporary buildings had gone up, replacing the tents serving as bunks. The mobile base was still parked there, and it looked like it was still in use, but there was also an honest-to-god bunker not too far from it. It looked like the engineers had more cement or whatever than they knew what to do with, so they started setting up a full on base right here. Actually, that... kind of made sense. The Big Gun was pretty damned permanently emplaced. From what I understood, a kilometre-long railgun was actually very delicate, and also huge. Huge and delicate didn''t go together very well most of the time, so moving this thing was going to be impossible. Still, it was kind of wild that it deserved the whole bunker and base treatment. Grasshopper met me outside of the mobile base with a big smile and her arms spread out for a hug. I gave in, walking into her hug with a put-upon sigh. I wouldn''t ever let her or anyone else know, but I did secretly enjoy Grasshopper''s hugs. The only problem was that I had an image to keep up, and being seen getting hugged and fussed over by Grasshopper wasn''t great for that. "Hello, Stray Cat," she said. "Hey," I replied. "So, we''re getting messed with by some samurai?" She nodded. "Come on in, I''ll tell you all about it." "Alright. Who is it, anyway?" "Who are they, rather," she corrected softly. "It''s not one samurai, or even one organisation. At the moment there are three groups, including us, who have plans to take out Phobos within the next forty-eight hours. There are others who have their own plans in place, but they won''t be ready for a little longer." "So, it''s us, two others, then a gaggle of other samurai who''ll be tossing shit at the wall at the last minute?" "I wouldn''t use those terms, exactly, but you''re essentially correct," she said. There was a globe hovering over the planning table, with three bright red dots on it. One of them was in eastern Canada, where we were. The other in... central Europe? And the last somewhere in Asia. "Let me show you what we''re up against!" *** Chapter Forty - Race Me to the Moon Chapter Forty - Race Me to the Moon Chapter Forty - Race Me to the Moon "''We need a publicity stunt. Something big for our people to rally around. Something like we had in the golden age of America.'' ''What about going to the moon again?'' ''What? No you idiot, are you mental, that''s too expensive. I was thinking... let''s give everyone a car?''" --USTWO GOP2 Discussion, 2038 *** "Wait, so let me get this straight," I said as I gestured to the globe. "Some fucks from around the world found out about our Big Gun project and they''re not happy about it? "That sums it up, yes," Grasshopper said. "But for two small details." She raised a hand, two fingers splayed in a peace sign. "Go on," I said. "First, I don''t think that we can really ascribe negative emotions to either group. We haven''t spoken to them directly yet, so it''s not fair to assume that they''re angry or even unhappy with us. Second, they might not be adversaries to begin with, and the way you''re framing things could lead to bigger problems down the line." I worked my jaw, wanting to disagree on principle, but... Grasshopper was probably onto something. Two other samurai orgs were working to stop the end of the world. If anything I ought to be happy about it because just a couple of days ago I was pissed that no one was taking action. "I guess we don''t hold a monopoly on saving the world," I said. "We share the same planet," Grasshopper said. "It''s only fair that we all do our best to save it too. Especially when saving it only means using great amounts of violence on a deserving target." I nodded slowly. Something told me that Grasshopper was a card-carrying member of the ''blow up pipelines'' school of ecological preservation. "So, can we chat with them, or are we in an unofficial race to see who can blow up Phobos first?" "I''d much rather we talk first," Grasshopper said. "Which is why I''ve set up a meeting with a representative of both groups. I was hoping you wouldn''t mind representing us? I need to help Major Tinwhistle with some final notes on the Big Gun''s construction, and the others are all quite new for samurai." "So am I," I defended. "What about Gomorrah?"Vissit for updates "She didn''t want to." What if I didn''t want to? I grumbled a bit, but... yeah, it was this or try to find something to do so that I wasn''t just standing around with my thumb up my ass. "Fine," I said. "Just two samurai, right?" "Nor do I, but I imagine that if we wait too much longer, our overseas friends will be quite tired." Grasshopper tugged me along until I was unceremoniously placed in front of a monitor bank. This was right in the middle of the command area, with engineers wandering in and out behind me and officers working at their own stations. "There''s a privacy screen," she said as she activated a small boxy device. There was a hum from the machine, then the noise in the rest of the room was dropped to a low murmur. "There, that ought to keep you concentrated. That screen is you, and the other two are our friends, and this here is the webcam." Grasshopper tapped a few keys and a trio of screens lit up. I was on the left, as was half of Grasshopper as she leaned in to type a few last things. The middle and rightmost screens were blank, but they had the name of the organisations we were talking with below. She patted my shoulders. "Do us proud!" I really didn''t like how quickly I was being shoved into something like a ''face'' position. Being the ''tells people to get their heads out of their asses'' person? I could live with that. Being the face of this operation? That I wasn''t so sure about. But I didn''t get much of a choice as the middlemost screen flickered on and I came face-to-face with... a mad scientist. The man looked like he was in his mid forties or so. Black hair that was both balding at the front and turning white on the edges. But what he did have was long and unruly. My guy needed a haircut, but judging by the lack of sanity in his eyes, that was a distant concern. "Ah, you''re here," he said in the thickest German accent I''d ever heard. "Good, good. Yes, my name is Doctor Kaleb Weber, samurai designation Radikal. I''m a proud member of the Nachtwa?chternetzwerk and the Schu?tzenfest Samurai Militia. A pleasure." He smiled, then looked off camera and... grabbed a hot dog? Like, a normal-ass hotdog, with ketchup and mustard. Some of the condiments soon found themselves on his lab coat. "Sorry. I skipped my last meal, we''re very busy." "Uh, hi," I said. I didn''t have time to introduce myself when the other screen came on. There was another man, this one looking like he had just walked out of a period piece. Another middle-aged guy, but he was at least well-trimmed and professional. Actually, his weird outfit kinda had a bit of a corpo look to it. A sort of blend between a... whatever the male version of a kimono was and a business suit. "Greetings," he said. His words were added at the bottom of his screen as subtitles, even though his English had better enunciation than mine. "I''m Susan, of Amaterasu corp, member of the Keiretsu. Doctor Radikal, a pleasure to meet you again. Miss Stray Cat, hello." "Hello," I said with a quick wave. "I''m Stray Cat, of... the New Montreal Big Gun Project." Oh fuck, I was pulling titles out of my ass now, but it only felt appropriate to not just say something like ''Hi, I''m Stray Cat and I was dumped in front of you because we have no idea what we''re doing here.'' "Nice to meet you," Doctor... Radikal said. I wouldn''t have known how to spell that without the subtitles. "So, it is our understanding that both the Keiretsu and the, ah, New Montreal Big Gun Project are planning to take care of our extraterrestrial visitors? We also have something up our sleeves." He raised a hand and showed the inside of the sleeves of his lab coat, which... had nothing in them. Yeah, this was not starting off... normally. *** Chapter Forty-One - Operation Moon Boom Chapter Forty-One - Operation Moon Boom Chapter Forty-One - Operation Moon Boom "So, from today onwards, the European Union will no longer be called the European Union. The word Union has been tainted by the leftists and those who would steal from the deserving and give to the worker. From now on, the EU will be the European Corporation, a corporation of national entities working to improve the lives of the deserving!" --EC Political Speech, 2041 *** "Yeah," I said to fill the immediately awkward silence. Susan--and it was kind of weird that there was a middle-aged dude called Susan--shifted slightly. I had the impression that he was sitting on his knees, which... alright. He was in a very fancy office, but the background also looked kind of ancient? Wooden walls and those rice-paper screens that Asian supercorps liked to decorate with. Doctor Radikal, meanwhile, looked like he was stuffed in a lab that was about fifty square metres too small for all the junk he was trying to stuff into it. I couldn''t name a tenth of the equipment behind him, but it all looked like the sort of shit you''d find in a lab. "So, uh, before we waste each other''s time," I began. "Has the Keiretsu and the... Nacht....watcher...networks...." "Nachtwa?chternetzwerk," Radikal corrected quickly. "Right, thanks," I said. "Have you guys been in contact with each other already? Because I''m worried that we''re going to be double-teamed over here." "We have only been in contact recently," Susan said. "As of yesterday, in fact, but this is one of our first official meetings to discuss how we all intend to move forwards." I nodded slowly. "So there''s no pre-existing agreement or something like that in place?" "Only an agreement to discuss things here and now," Radikal said. "Which is why our discovery of your project was so fortuitous." "How did you find out anyway?" I asked. "It''s not like we were trying to be obvious about it. Actually, it''s the opposite, we''re trying to be discreet here." Radikial shrugged his shoulders. "One of our netwerk''s samurai is an information gathering specialist. She let us know about the project and we researched it further. Likewise for the Keiretsu, though they were not nearly so secretive." "We have no intention to be subtle," Susan said. "The fatefaith of humanity and Earth is on the line. This is not a time for secrecy." "Oh, I don''t know, there''s a certain value in discretion," Radikal said. "But in any case, yes, I''m glad we''re all here to discuss things." "Yeah, cool," I said. "So, we want to address the elephant?" "The elephant?" Susan asked. His eyes glowed for a moment, then he nodded sagely. "Ah, yes, a western idiom, I see. Yes, we should address the elephant." Susan gave me a look as if I ought to have been embarrassed from the lack of sophistication in our plan, but I didn''t care for that. "It''s a little more complex. We have portal tech. We''re shooting into a portal on Earth, and the bullet''s coming out of a portal in space. So we''re skipping the whole... get to space bit with our bullet." "Oh, that''s ingenious. I''ve noticed that your gun is quite large," Radikal said. "About a kilometre of railgun," I said. Susan actually seemed a little impressed now, nodding before he took another careful sip of his tea. "That is, in fact, a large gun," he admitted. "What is your intended payload?" "We have a lot of choices there," I said. "Personally, I wanna see what monofilament bombs could do to Phobos. Grasshopper has also sold me on the idea of Casaba Howitzers? Honestly, the thought of those kinda makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside." "Understandable," Doctor Radikal said, and for a moment I think we shared a bit of mutual enthusiasm for big things that went kaboom. "In light of what we do have... I suspect that our project here will be the one to cause the most interference. Perhaps less with the Big Gun project, as the Weltraum-Gewittermeister Tesla-Kollisionsgenerator will not interfere so much with a rapidly moving projectile, but our electromagnetic interference might very well destroy the Keiretsu drones." "That won''t matter if your project blows up Phobos before the drones get there, right?" I asked. "Perhaps! We certainly intend to try. The difficulty lies in the enemy response." "What do you mean?" I asked. Susan was the one to reply. "The adversary will not allow us to strike them with impunity. They will adapt. That is what they do." "Can the antithesis adapt to resist being crushed by a giant space magnet?" I asked. I wasn''t sure if I understood how the Weltra...whatevermeister worked, but I figured I had the gist of it. "Would you have expected them to be able to move a moon across the solar system a week ago?" Susan asked. "Fair point," I said. "So... what, we want to try a bunch of shit until something works?" "Exactly!" Doctor Radikal said. "If we''re to defeat the enemy, we either need a powerful alpha-strike, or to hit them with a large number of different attacks before they can adapt. The Keiretsu drone program allows for the construction of more drones with varied weapon emplacements, the Big Gun project allows for a variety of projectiles to be launched at the Antithesis. Combined with our own powerful attack, we will definitely succeed in destroying Phobos and saving Earth!" I grinned. The doc''s enthusiasm was infectious. "Alright, I''m down for that. I don''t think anyone here will be too upset if Phobos blows up before we get a chance to smack it. Is it the same on your end, Susan?" Susan nodded solemnly. "It is our sacred duty to protect. This allows all of us to contribute based on our merits and capabilities. I will address the other members of the Keiretsu, I suspect that we will all be glad to participate." "Cool," I said. "So... keep in touch?" *** Chapter Forty-Two - Cat to the Moon Chapter Forty-Two - Cat to the Moon Chapter Forty-Two - Cat to the Moon "The 2028 Space Accord is an international agreement signed by all members of the G10 that, in essence, removes all limits on space-based weapons platforms installed by governments and private enterprises operating within signatory nations as long as these weapon platforms meet certain criteria. The most important of these is a system of safe locks, preventing the use of these weapons against Earthly civilian targets." --Excerpt from International Laws and Regulations, Seventy-Third Edition, 2035 *** "So... you bargained away our right to be the first to shoot?" Gomorrah asked. It wasn''t really a question, even if she''d given it that kind of tone. It was a reprimand. We were in a small office space next to the communication room where I''d just finished chatting with Doctor Radikal and Susan. The call had ended as quickly as it began. They were both far from our timezone, and either needed to hit the hay or just get shit started for the day, so we hadn''t lingered on goodbyes. It was myself, Gomorrah, and Grasshopper. It looked like the three of us formed the more... veteran part of the Big Gun Project. Oh, right, I''d need to tell the others that I''d kinda named our entire project without permission or input. That could wait a minute. "Bargained away makes it sound like I was being stupid on purpose," I said. "So you weren''t purposefully stupid?" Gomorrah asked with a slight tilt of her head. I paused, worked through the English there, then shook my head. "No, wait. What I mean is that what I did wasn''t stupid." Grasshopper reached over and touched Gomorrah on the shoulder gently. "Let''s give Catherine a chance to explain herself. It''s only fair. We gave her the task to bargain for us and our confidence that she would do her best, without first giving her all the information she''d need to do her best, or much time to consider things." I pointed to Grasshopper, because that was a damned good point. They''d kinda dropped me into the hot seat and I had to figure shit out all on my own there. It wasn''t exactly the fairest way of doing things. "Fine. Sorry Cat," Gomorrah said. "Grasshopper''s right, we kind of threw you into the situation. Nonetheless... I''d like an explanation of what went down, please." "Sure," I said with a nod. That I could do, no problem. "So, two factions, right? We''ve got the... uh, Myalis, how do I even pronounce their name?" Myalis took over the speakers in my helmet with a faint--probably artificial--crackle. "The name you''re going to fail to pronounce properly is the Nachtwa?chternetzwerk. Literally the Night Watchmen Network." "Them," I said. "Their guy was this crazy mad scientist type. Like out of a cartoon or something, with the accent and all. Doctor Radikal. With a K. Nice guy, actually. Bit of a weirdo, but I wouldn''t mind chatting with him some more. The other gang is the Keiretsu, from east Asia. They''re not just Japanese, but I''m pretty sure the guy I spoke to--Susan--is."The? source of this content n/o/v/(el)bi((n)) "I''ve heard of the Keiretsu," Gomorrah said. "They''re as large as the Family, and possibly more influential within the continent they operate in." "Really?" I asked. She shifted, arms dropping to her sides as she spoke. "They''re a conglomerate of corporate entities owned wholly or in part by samurai. Some of the corporations that make up the Keiretsu no longer have samurai leaders, but only because those leaders have died. If you have an Asian company and you want it to hit the top, you need to be part of the Keiretsu." "So it''s like a gang?" I asked. "From what I gathered, yeah," I said. "Then we''ll have a constant supply of harassment for Phobos." "Can''t we do the same?" I asked. "Not at the moment, no," Grasshopper said. "We''re limited to a single approach vector at the moment. Where we can vary things a lot is with our choice of munitions, but our Big Gun can only fire so many times." "We can''t fire non-stop?" I asked. She shook her head. "The cannon is designed to fire once an hour at a normal, efficient rate. We can double that, but we''ll be pushing up our maintenance needs and we''ll burn through our electrical capacity." I wouldn''t even pretend to understand how a railgun actually worked. If Grasshopper said once an hour, then it was once an hour. That felt a little slow to me, at least until I started to take in just how fucking awesome what we were doing was. "Anyway, we''re third in line. If the nerd''s super energy weapon fucks Phobos up, then we''ve wasted all this effort." "Nonsense," Grasshopper said. "We made friends and learned all sorts of things. That''s not wasted effort. A lost opportunity isn''t a loss of time." I grinned. "Sure. Anyway, it doesn''t sound like the Keiretsu''s shit is gonna take Phobos out in one swoop. More like they''re aiming to soften the moon up, kill it by chipping away at it for however long it takes until the whole thing gives up." "It''s a valid tactic against the antithesis," Gomorrah said. "You often have to choose between a single decisive strike or a variable war of attrition where you don''t use the same tactics often enough for the antithesis to adapt." "I think he said something like that," I said. "Susan, I mean. It''s valid, I guess. Not my kind of thing." "You also agreed to this project because it has exceptional alpha-strike capabilities," Gomorrah said. "I''m just an alpha kinda person," I agreed. "I''m not going to dignify that with a response," Gomorrah said. "I''m not big on dignity anyway," I shot back. "So, you still angry that we''re in third?" "... No. I''m not upset. Sorry, Cat, I shouldn''t have jumped to conclusions," Gomorrah said, sounding all mature and shit. "We''ll hope that the Nachtwa?chternetzwerk succeed and if they don''t, then we''ll do what we can to work with the others." "Awesome," I said while deep down I was kinda annoyed that she''d pronounced that perfectly without a hitch. I checked the timer again. "We''ve got a few hours until they do their thing. Should we finish up the Big Gun then sit back and watch?" *** The Ongoing Contest has come to a close! The Ongoing Contest has come to a close! Somehow, this one took longer than the last... and it''s all my fault for being so slow. My bad! I''ll try to make the next ones a little faster! So, the Ongoing contest is probably the entry that means the most. It has fewer stories within it, but these stories are ongoing pieces of art in the SCS world, which is impossibly cool! I''m particularly proud of this part of the contest since it means that there are people dedicated to writing SCS fanfiction over months, and some over the span of a year! That''s incredibly heartwarming! It makes Joytoy something really special. I''m not sure if it''s for everyone, but it''s a subject that deserves a good exploration. It definitely helps that the writing is far above par. The main character is enticing and interesting, the world she lives in is at once cruel and yet mundane, and there''s just enough hope to keep the very real-feeling people in that world going. If you want to read something different, then give Joytoy a try! I really wanna shout out Teddy Bears on Brigade as well. I don''t know if I can do split winners a second time in this contest (and I suspect that Wombat will be taking the prize in one of the next categories anyway, they''re just that good). T-BoB is a lot closer to SCS in style and substance, only it''s a lot cuter in many ways! I''d also be remise if I didn''t tell people to give it a try, especially those who might not want to take a big plunge within the world of Joytoy. Keep warm; stay cool, -RavensDagge SCS Fanfiction Contest Winner: A Joytoys Journey to become a Hive-Queen By PhyonesArc! SCS Fanfiction Contest Winner: A Joytoy''s Journey to become a Hive-Queen By PhyonesArc! SCS Fanfiction Contest Winner: A Joytoy''s Journey to become a Hive-Queen By PhyonesArc! "In modern society the usage of narcotics has long since become much more normal than it had been even thirty years ago. The biggest reasons for that are more supply, less controls, less stigmatisation, and generally less fucks to give. An average of 40% of the adult population admits to consuming some form of drug regularly, a staggering 30% almost daily. The real number is probably much higher." "Modern Society, a retrospective," 2056 With an incessant beeping I got ripped out of my sleep, my head throbbing like someone was playing the drums on my skull. Croaking my displeasure, before coughing up some bile, I reached over and tried to smash the alarm clock off, whilst simultaneously vomiting the last of the alcohol and what pitiful food I had yesterday into the trash can. Eventually I hit the stupid alarm and groaned, taking some heaving breaths before dry heaving a couple more times. Next to me someone moved, warm naked flesh touching my own. I could feel breasts on my back as Sarah tried to use me as a pillow... again. I groaned once more, ignored the warmth behind me, much too hungover to enjoy the feeling, and got up. I didn''t dislike Sarah, she was a nice girl, at least when she wasn''t drunk. Which was quite the rare occasion now that I thought about it, considering it had been weeks since I had last seen her sober. No, what irked me was that I couldn''t have my own bed. It wasn''t her fault, of course. We had to share bed and board to keep the costs down, and even then we barely made enough, even with four people in an apartment I would barely consider large enough for one. Mumbling something to myself I got up, staggering from the alcohol and other shit still remaining in my system from last night. With a bit of effort I made my way over to our kitchen, although calling the shitty hole in the wall stove a kitchen was gloriously overselling things. I opened the fridge, grimacing at the ear grating squeaking sound it made, grabbed whatever cheap beer we had left, opened it, and downed half the bottle to clear the bile out of my mouth. I know I shouldn''t, I was an alcoholic and should probably stop if only to save like half the pitiful amount of money I made each month, but I''d been taking all kinds of drugs since my very early teenage years and by this point the amount of fucks I had left to give the universe at large were somewhere between nonexistent and fuck all. "Get the fuck up." I mumbled loudly before I finished my beer, throwing the empty can into the corner where the rest of the cans had already assembled to discuss our abuse of their contents. Someone would have to clean up soon... And considering this dingy household, that someone would be me. Of course my rambling wasn''t near enough to wake them, pissdrunk and high off their tits as they had been the previous evening. Sarah was still in dreamland, naked with a blanket barely over her long legs. Tina and Sharon were still asleep on the other mattress in the corner, limbs entangled from last night''s fun, empty beer cans still next to them. Once upon a time they too had a bed, but considering Sharon''s unquenchable lust, that thing had been fucked through not even three months after she had moved in. Since they didn''t have enough money for a new one, and Sarah and I weren''t about to fork our pitiful creds over for them to break the bed again, the stained mattress it was. Grumbling once more I stumbled over to kick the two awake, before I went over to Sarah to do the same. We all had to work soon and our boss wouldn''t be happy with us being late again. I didn''t know the schedule of the others, but I was booked out for the next couple days, and some of the clients paid good money to bend me over the bed frame. The lot of us were joytoys, little more than cheap whores. Once upon a time joytoys were more than just harlots, but over time things had changed in our redlight district, different gangs moved in, and by now all you were expected to do was spread your legs and act like you enjoyed your time. They didn''t even care if you were barely capable of walking from a near overdose. Okay, things weren''t quite that bad, I was just pissy. Our job didn''t suck entirely, and I liked doing it, most of the time. Ever since I had my first period my libido had been high, and even before I had turned eighteen I had my fair share of partners in the gangs, mostly to get my hands on more drugs. After they threw me out... Well... I didn''t have much in terms of options. And frankly by that point I no longer had any inhibitions about spreading my legs to get what I wanted, nor enough fucks to spare to care about dignity. Picking up whatever clean clothing I still had, none of us really cared who wore what as long as it all got cleaned afterwards, I slipped into my "work uniform". A skimpy bra that only hid my nipples, a nearly see through blouse that underlined my small but perky breasts, and a short mini skirt that barely hid the wonders beneath from the world. I decided to skip underwear, wouldn''t wear it for long anyway and I knew for a fact that most of my clients liked the cheap whore high on low-grade shit look that I usually had. Every joytoy had their theme and their regulars, and I was quite well known around the district for mine. Considering my client throughput and my reliability at doing my job, leaving quite the satisfied customers, I had already been entrusted with organising my own group of joytoys, basically being in charge of my wing of the brothel. Seraphine Bloodfallen was a known name, even outside of our little shithole of a district, at least among the cheaper brothels anyways. By this time the others had gotten up as well, most of them groaning loudly. "Shit... morning again already?" Tina mumbled, rubbing her eyes. Sharon looked worse for wear as she plucked her favourite anal beads still inserted in her loose ass from last night. "Fuck... And I can''t come in late again. I''m booked soon," she said, growling, although nobody would believe her if she said she wasn''t looking forward to it. My libido was high, she was an outright slut. She could fuck around all day and still want more. Part of it was of course that one of her favourite drugs did wonders to rile you up even more, so she and Tina ended up basically fucking every night before passing out. "I wish I could skip today," Sarah mumbled, before groggily getting up, only staggering a little. She was still drunk, as usual. Sarah was the only one of us who only did the job because of the money. She refrained from as much sex outside of work as she could, and typically only ever took clients while she was pissdrunk or completely out of it. I had talked to her multiple times about finding another job, but she couldn''t, or maybe wouldn''t, I didn''t exactly know. "Well, hurry up. Leon will be here shortly to pick us up," I said, then stretched lavishly, which had Sharon blatantly looking me over for a moment. Leon was another joytoy who worked with us, one of the few male joytoys I actually liked and had spent some time with. Normally I was more one for women, but he was alright. And he had shown me a few tricks to use on my male clients, which had paid off quite handsomely in my pay. I vanish into the bath for my first round of hygiene for the day; We would all clean up again at the brothel, but I liked to start here, just to keep the routine going. By the time I was done the rest of the girls had dressed up, although Sarah was already nursing her second beer for the day. The woman was nearly my height just sitting down, not to mention when she stood, even with my heels. As always, it irked me; My height was the only thing about my appearance that I disliked. Everything else about me was great, I looked good, knew it, and wasn''t ashamed to show it. But my height... ugh. In a way it was a blessing. I looked young, innocent and defilable despite being nearly twenty, and lots of geezers got off on getting me utterly fucked up on smack before they dominated me, so I never had to worry about getting enough jobs. It also helped that I basically dealt with nearly any fetish they knocked at my door with, which meant a wide variety of people who would pay for my services. Sarah had more problems in that regard. She was beautiful, don''t get me wrong, but she towered over even the taller men. There was a market for everyone, of course, but some were more in demand than others. She was also extremely vanilla, the most she would ever do would be stuff like feet or any of the other, more innocent, things. And that meant fewer jobs, which meant less pay. If money wouldn''t be an issue for her, she would probably be happy about it, knowing her. Regardless, we had to leave. I quickly pocketed my things, which consisted of a few joints, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, some of the more esoteric stuff available around the district, and a couple of toys that I would need today that I didn''t have in my room in the brothel. We had most everything you could want there, and they didn''t care what we took home, as long as we had it with us when it was needed, but I never liked doing that. Oh, I liked having toys available for whenever the mood struck me; I just didn''t like having them missing when a client came knocking with a surprise request. I might be a cheap whore high on even cheaper drugs, but I did take my job seriously. We filed out of the dingy apartment, not that it was much of one, and all went downstairs with a beer in hand. To any outsiders it might be a bit over the top with how fucked up our life and addictions were, but we were hardly an exception in this district. In the last twenty years or so this place had lost a lot of its former glory, thanks to multiple gang takeovers that had ended with less and less people giving a fuck about keeping the image up. As a result narcotics had quickly become widespread, I don''t think there were many if any people living in these parts that didn''t take some form of shit regularly, especially with how cheap the stuff was around here. Coinciding with the gang''s arrival, the clientele shifted, a lot of the wealthy high classers who originally would come to our part of town for a nice time were replaced by bangers, which meant less money, which meant the quality of things went even more to shit. By this point most of the brothels around here were the cheap kind, although Victor''s was a bit of an exception even then. The Rose Carpet was, well, maybe not specialised on the use of narcotics, but we had probably the loosest rules about that kind of crap in the area. That meant that we got most of the joytoys who did the job for money and didn''t know how to handle it other than drowning their sorrows, just like Sarah. Of course we also got people like me, addicts who couldn''t do another job and didn''t care about bending over for whomever came knocking with a creditchip. When we arrived downstairs Leon was already waiting for us in his rust bucket of a van, an older model he inherited from his pops. The lump of metal was nothing grand but it worked, and none of us could really afford to take the cab each morning. Even down here in the last reaches of the outer city, the taxi service was incredibly overpriced. "Morning," I grumbled as I opened the van door and got in, Tina and Sharon trailing close behind me, while Sarah climbed into the passenger seat. She always took shotgun, despite always complaining that it was too small for her long legs. The moment someone else dared to get near to it however, she threw a fit about how it was hers. "Morning. You look like shit," Leon muttered. The man was always worrying about us, which was adorable, but also sometimes incredibly annoying. "Yeah yeah, we know. Now get going before we are late again," Sharon grumbled, already visibly excited for the work day despite her bad mood. "I only got four clients for the day. The first three are regulars, the last booked the entire afternoon and evening. Seems to be the cuddly sort," I said, checking my schedule and the requests that came with them. I knew the first would suck, I saw him often. Giant dick, big enough to hurt, and he was totally into anal, so I was already prepared to nurse my bumhole back to health after his session. The other two were relatively normal, although one had once again asked for a collar and leash, plus some ''catnip'' as he called it. I knew what that meant, it was good that I had packed extra. The last was a woman, military from the looks of it, but surprisingly, not the dominating kind. Of course there were all types, but my experience with the more normal military girls was that they wanted to be in charge, often that meant more than just saying what we should do. This one however, wanted cuddles, lots and lots of cuddles. The rest of her sheet was... empty, to say the least. No likes or dislikes mentioned, only a footnote of taking things slow. She seemed a bit out of place for this kind of area, truth be told, not to mention her wishes for the day. Not that it mattered much to me, she was cute and was paying, so if she wanted to cuddle the day away, I would oblige her. "Damn... I''m packed. Eight clients, one a threesome, one a foursome. Hope I can keep it up the entire night," Sharon said, hand already between her legs, ruining the cheap seats. "Well, let''s hope you can still walk straight after," Leon said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Luckily, my day will be calm. I only have a halfday, rest of the day I''m on service duty." "Wanna switch?" Sarah grumbled, already in a bad mood. "Five clients, all of them with some strange fetish. Any of you have experience in foot jobs? Can''t remember the last time I did one of those." Of course Sharon was more than willing to help her refresh her memory, and soon the entire drive was filled with her regaling Sarah on how to do a proper job, what to focus on and what to avoid. It was informative, but only in the context of getting better at the job. I didn''t like feet and luckily I didn''t have to deal with that often. By the time she had gone through everything she knew, we had already parked and I was opening the door. "Well, good luck y''all, and have fun," I said in a deadpan tone before I walked off, throwing the empty beer can in a trash bin outside the brothel. Since I was in charge of my part of the brothel, I had some other shit to do before the clients came in. It mainly involved sorting out some of the more annoying things, like helping newcomers get situated, getting them adjusted, showing them how to do a proper job, that kind of shit. The last part at least could be fun, especially if they were one of the more eager ones. Heading into the brothel, I quickly found a group of joytoys standing around one of the new guys, who looked highly awkward and maybe a bit overwhelmed. "Morning," I mumbled, then looked around, "Anyone need anything before I show him the ropes?" It turned out, a couple had some minor concerns such as missing or broken toys, nearly empty booze cupboards, broken furniture, the works. I noted all of that down to send it over to Vic, who''d get on it to replace all the stuff. One of the girls had some questions about some of the toys for me, so I spent a couple of minutes showing her how to properly use them. Of course, as I always did, I reminded them to take their birth control, pay attention to hygiene, the usual shit people tend to quickly forget or ignore. We had a couple of accidental pregnancies before and they always meant trouble. When a joytoy got pregnant, the clients often didn''t want anything to do with it. That meant abortions, or if that wasn''t in the books, another brat ending up at the foster homes nearby. No matter what way things went, there were pretty much always heated tempers, loud words, and inane discussions about responsibility. I knew some clients paid extra for pregnant girls, but that was a rarity around these parts. The most difficult situations were when one of the guys got a client pregnant. Technically there was a clause that said that anything that could end in pregnancy wasn''t allowed, but since people are stupid, especially when high, drunk, and horny, that rule was so often disregarded that it might as well not exist. Problem was, someone had to fork over child support and what-have-you, and of course, since I was the person in charge, it would be my job to sort the shit out. Fucking grand. Despite the fucked up work life we had, I always made sure that at least the joytoys under me paid attention to all the important crap. More than once I sent someone home to clean up after they came in too fucked up to work. The redlight district was my home, and while it was a bit of a shithole - actually not just a bit - I wanted to make sure we were taken seriously. My goal was that one day we''d be seen as more than living onaholes, even if that was a bit of a pipedream with the current situation around the district. After I was done with all the minor stuff it was time to show the new guy the ropes. "Okay, Paul, was it?" I asked as we walked. "Yes, ma''am." The boy replied in an overly formal fashion, obviously a bit embarrassed. That had been a very hard day to deal with. Lena had been my senior and in charge before me, even if she had basically given me all her responsibilities. Mainly that was to train me up, but also because she really couldn''t be arsed and was much more interested in snorting lines off of guys'' dicks. In a way she had been a lot like me, really liking her job, but where I preferred alcohol and shit like that while I got bent over, Lena was all in on the hard shit. I had kind of known that she would suffer this fate some day, and I don''t think she even minded too much. It had been her life, after all. To my surprise my next client was already there, waiting for me. For a moment I panicked. Did I read the time wrong? No, I still had ten minutes. She also didn''t seem impatient or angry, more... embarrassed? Awkward? Probably her first time visiting a joytoy. With a sweet smile I walked up to her. "Chloe, is it? I am Seraphine, it is such a pleasure to meet you," I said, hugging her tight for a moment, before I took one of her arms and hugged it, pressing it between my breasts. She was tall, nearly two heads taller than me, so I had to look up a bit, but I really didn''t mind. Her furious blush was distracting me too much for that. "I hope I didn''t keep you waiting for too long," I added, before motioning inside my room. "Uh... No, no, not at all. I just... didn''t know where to wait, is all." Her voice was quiet, her gaze locked on my figure. Chloe had the stature of a soldier, never quite relaxed. Otherwise she looked like any other girl you would see on the street, although she did have a bit more scanty looking clothes on than would be normal. Nothing scandalous, by far not as revealing as my own dress, but from her thin blouse it was quite evident that she was excited for something. It fit her very well, and I was already looking forward to the evening. Gently dragging her inside, I closed the door and locked it behind me, before turning back to her. "Now then, honey, what can I do for you today? Any ideas on where to go or do you simply want to see what the evening brings?" Finally her eyes snapped up to mine, panic and embarrassment visible in her gaze, "I, uh, sorry, uhm... I honestly... I don''t know." I smiled, she was just too sweet, "No need to be shy, you came here to admire me so feel free to do so," I said with a teasing wink, before I took her hand and led her to the little bar in my room. It was just big enough for two people, and wasn''t a standard fare in other brothels from what I knew. "Would you like a drink to start off the afternoon?" I asked, opening the locked cupboard that contained all the drinks and drugs I had available. "Sure, I guess that would be nice," she said, and sat down at the bar. I nodded, "Any preferences?" "Not really, no. Just give me whatever." Bingo. She was cute and adorable and I already liked her a lot, but I wasn''t above pulling out the most expensive drink I had to get a few more creds out of her. Pouring us both a glass I put away the bottle before I made my way over to the second barstool. Taking a seat I leaned into her, while offering her one of the glasses. "You have never visited a joytoy before, have you?" I asked with a knowing smile. She chuckled, "That obvious, huh," she shook her head, "No, I haven''t. This is the first time. Decided to treat myself since I just got... let''s say promoted, not long ago." "Oh! How exciting!" I said and hugged her from the side, squeezing her a little, pressing my breasts into her side. "A promotion. Might I ask what you do for work?" She chuckled awkwardly, "Uhm... Not to be rude, but I don''t think I want to share that yet. Maybe later." "Oh, I apologise for the question," I said, scowling at myself a bit at that faux pa. "Nah, don''t worry about it. You couldn''t have known. Anyways, yeah, I have zero experience with... all this. Like, I kissed once, but that''s about it." She seemed extremely embarrassed about that statement. "Ah, well, we can change that. Just tell me when you are ready," I said with a purr, and sipped on my drink. Chloe didn''t answer, just took the glass and emptied it with one big gulp. It very much fit the serious way she held herself. "Y''know...," she said after a moment, still eyeing the empty glass, "And I do apologise if this is a personal question, but I am curious... How do you do it? Like doing this job. I couldn''t imagine myself being here, even just getting here for an enjoyable evening is... embarrassing." She chuckled a moment later, but didn''t elaborate. I sighed inwardly. It was a question I got from a lot of women who came to me, the more chatty kind anyway. Most couldn''t fathom what it was to sell your body for money, a lot of them were judgmental about it. Not that they would refrain from happily using my services just like the rest of my clients. "Well, personally I like my job. I get paid to enjoy myself, fool around, have fun, and get drunk on the clock," I shrugged, "It also means I can help the others, who end up here because they have nowhere else to go." "Sure, but like... don''t you ever feel... I dunno... like you''re worth more?" Chloe asked, looking at me, studying me. There was no judgement there, only curiosity, so I bit back on my more rude reply. "Maybe... I don''t come from much. Ma and da disowned me when I was still a kid, abandoned me the moment I showed even the slightest reluctance to take over the family business. Went a lot with gangs then, did most of the stuff I do here, just without pay. Nearly no night I wasn''t bent over some bedframe to get fucked, high as a kite, that kind of thing y''know. Mind you, I wasn''t forced to, I always had a high libido, takes very little to get me really heated. When I got old enough this was basically the only thing I could do, since I didn''t want to join the military or some PMC. Not that I don''t want to help people, but it just... The fact that I might need to shoot other people on a daily basis scared me off. Was enough I had to do that in the gangs. Here I can help in other ways. At least the joytoys, I mean." I realised too late that I had gone on for a bit longer than I wanted to, my mind muddled from alcohol and weed, plus some of the more esoteric things that my previous client had me take. It also didn''t help that she made me feel... safe. Just having her next to me kind of reassured me about a lot of things, almost like life wasn''t quite as shit as it used to be. "I see...," she said, still looking me up and down, a slight bit embarrassed still, but not as much as before. "I get that feeling, I think. Didn''t have it as bad as this, but we never had much in terms of money, nor did I get to grow up in the nicer parts of town. My family helped me, and I helped them, our neighbourhood was a close knit group. Did some gang work, although mostly to keep the placesafe, then joined the military. Only recently got out, to... pursue other venues," she added at the end, clearly keeping something from me, not that I minded. "Sorry, I came here to enjoy myself, and now I start asking questions about your personal life and bore you with my life story," she laughed awkwardly. "Oh no, don''t apologise. I am here to help you relax and have a good time, and sometimes that means more than just to sleep with the client. There was a time, before I became a joytoy, where that was actually a big part of the reason people came here. Have a chat with someone that wouldn''t judge them, before you got to have fun. Clear your mind, then relax. I... I''m kind of sad I didn''t get to experience that time. These days I open the door and the first order is ''on your knees''. I love it, true, but it could be more, y''know?" "I guess. Mind if I have another drink? Whatever you just got us, it''s good," she asked, pushing her glass over to me. I smiled and nodded, getting up to pour her another drink. "Maybe something... less exquisite? That one is expensive. Don''t want you to end up with too bad a surprise." I didn''t know why I asked, normally I kept that to myself and just poured drink after drink to earn more money. Something about her though... I couldn''t quite put my finger on it, but something deep down wanted to show her some courtesy. "Nah, it''s fine. I didn''t come from money but in recent history my life changed quite a lot. Unless you charge like a mil I don''t need to worry," she said with a laugh, "Still sounds fucking stupid to say that." I chuckled dutifully, although it did make me question why she was here if she had that kind of money. Lots of high profile brothels in other parts of town. With another drink poured I set it down in front of her, then put the bottle away and pulled out another joint, "Want one?" I asked, but she shook her head. With a shrug I lit it and took a deep pull. There was a moment of silence before she spoke again. "So... I didn''t know what to expect, so I booked double, any ideas how we could... enjoy that time?" Her adorable blush was back and I smiled at the sight. "I have lots and lots of ways. Do you want to keep it vanilla or are you open to experimentation? I have an entire wardrobe full of fun toys to try out if you want." That had her gulping. "I, uh... I guess, vanilla at first, but... I guess I am not too averse to experimentation?" I smiled, took another deep pull of the joint, then came back around the bar again, sitting down on her lap. "Well then...," I said quietly, my voice husky, "How about... we start... here," I said, my free hand starting to roam her stomach, while I leaned in closer to her. She said she didn''t have experience, so I decided to take it slow and give her the opportunity to accept my offer of a kiss, instead of going for it myself. She seemed like she needed a bit of agency. Our lips met, making my heart skip a bit, before starting to beat faster. I could feel the heat in my abdomen, the familiar feeling of rising excitement. At first I kept it chaste, only giving her pecks, before eventually I started to slowly introduce my tongue to our little game. She accepted it, soon answering my approach with the same fervour. One of her hands came up to mine, slowly pulling it closer to her chest. But before I could start to enjoy it, undoing her blouse, the lights in my room flickered, the alarm started blasting full force, and a text appeared in my vision, big aggressive letters blinking at me in red. INCURSION DETECTED! "Fuck!" *** Chapter Forty-Three - Buying the Gate to Nowhere Chapter Forty-Three - Buying the Gate to Nowhere Chapter Forty-Three - Buying the Gate to Nowhere "Strange earth movement? Nah man, you don''t gotta worry. Yellowstone won''t blow." --Yellowstone Park Ranger, 2024 *** New Point Total: 21,124 I sucked in a breath as I saw that number. It was... lower than I''d like it to be. I mean, I still had a fuckload of points, I couldn''t complain, but a big part of me really hated spending money and points or whatever. It felt wrong to spend anything like that on stuff that wasn''t immediately necessary. ... Fuck, I really wasn''t a good capitalist, was I? I was sure there were like, therapies or something offered to help people become more used to spending what they had. Not that I really cared to go through that kind of shit. "Careful. Careful, dammit," Major Tinwhistle snapped. The thing I''d bought was being winched up by a crane that looked like it was three sizes bigger than what was necessary. It was the portal component of the railgun, a large boxy device with several attachments on the sides and a complex layered set of heatsinks on the back. The business-end, which faced the inside of the railgun''s barrel, was a large circular disk, slightly concave and very reflective. There wasn''t a portal on it yet. Myalis said that portals weren''t energy efficient at the best of times, so this one would act like something of a camera aperture. It would flick open and close the moment the projectile was to pass. The heatsinks and shit were to regulate the temperature. Both from the projectile, which was passing real close, and from the shift caused by both the portal itself and the vacuum of space doing space vacuum shit. "Careful," Major Tinwhistle said. She''d been spending most of her time this last day or so in the command tents and structure. But this bit was important enough that she was out here herself. I think it was to make sure that her engineers knew that any fuckups would be done right in front of their boss. Their boss who had a short staff, like a small batton riot cops used. She was using it to point to things, but it looked like it wouldn''t take much effort for that bat to be turned into some good old-fashioned encouragement for anyone that fucked up. I was sure that if she caught someone fooling around, that person would be earning themselves some bruising. Tinwhistle was a tight bundle of nerves at the moment. "She''s tense," I muttered to the samurai nearest to me. That meant Princess, Knight, Hedgehog, and Gomorrah. "That component is one of the most important parts of this project," Gomorrah said without looking up from a tablet. "It''s valuable." "Yeah, ten-thousand points valuable," I said. She glanced up. "I meant credit-wise," she said. "God no," she said. "Water deliveries will be stretched out another three days. We haven''t even started doing all of the checks that I want to. I won''t be willing to put my seal on this project for another week, at least." "You know we''ll all be dead by then, yeah?" I asked. She shrugged. "That''s why, on paper, every shot you take between now and then is a calibration shot or a system test. As far as the engineering board is concerned, this project will only be ready to go long after it''s either accomplished its job or we''re all dead." "Cool," I said with a nod. That made plenty of sense to me. There had to be ways to get around stupid paperwork-based restrictions. "Is the lack of water going to be a problem?" She shook her head. "I looked at the amount of cooling we needed to be barely functional, then multiplied it tenfold, then I did it again, because it''s one of the easier areas to have redundancies in." "Oh," I said. "Isn''t that overengineering?" She stared at me. "Yes. And?" "Uh. Okay." "Look, this is a big deal for my career," the Major said. "I''m not going to have it fuck up because we cut corners. Anything that can have redundancies will have redundancies. Those redundancies will have redundancies of their own. The first thing to fuck up will be investigated and those responsible will be taken out back and shot. And because we''re working with redundancies, they''ll be shot a second time to be sure." "Alright, I get it," I said as I raised my arms in surrender. Chick was nuts. I didn''t know if it was an engineering thing or not, but I wasn''t sure I wanted to find out. "So, how soon can we shoot?" The major looked at her tablet. "Three hours. Give us five, to be sure. Since this is a railgun, we''ll be doing a dryfire test first to see if all the capacitors are working as they should. I don''t expect any actual issues there. They''re all ET-tech and that shit has QC like nothing made on Earth." "ET-tech?" I asked. "Extra-terrestrial." "Ah." She meant protector-grade shit, which... yeah, I''d never heard of anything samurai purchased breaking because of poor quality. "Well okay then. I guess we''ll go watch our German pals for a bit, then come back and check up on you. Let us know as soon as the gun''s ready to fire." "That I can do," she said with a serious nod. "This... this is going to look so good on my record." I bet it would, but I wasn''t sure I wanted to be around the engineer. I might knock something over, and then she''d wail at me with that stick of hers. *** Chapter Forty-Four - The Weltraum-Gewittermeister Tesla-Kollisionsgenerator Chapter Forty-Four - The Weltraum-Gewittermeister Tesla-Kollisionsgenerator Chapter Forty-Four - The Weltraum-Gewittermeister Tesla-Kollisionsgenerator "No Catherine, a group of AI isn''t called a glitch." --Correspondence between Protector AI Myalis and Samurai Stray Cat, 2057 *** "I had to set this up in a hurry, and I didn''t want to use up too many points on something so non-essential, so forgive me if it''s not as great as it could be," Grasshopper said as she led us into a strange tent next to the command area. It was strange from the outside, the walls made of a glossy white material that reflected sunlight in a weird way. The walls seemed thick for a tent too, but otherwise it didn''t stand out too much. If I was driving by, I wouldn''t give it a second glance. The interior, however, was way stranger. There was a carpet, for one. Or maybe it was a rug? I didn''t know enough to tell the difference. Lights hung from the ceiling in little strips, casting a yellow glow against the walls, and there was a large television screen at the far end of the room. There was a single couch off to one side. It was beige with green specks that I soon realized were little cartoon grasshoppers patterned into the material. Other than that the only furniture was a mini fridge humming in the corner. "I tried to make it feel homey. I think everyone should order their own chairs, but if you don''t have a catalogue for it, just ask! I don''t mind! Oh, there''s snacks in the mini-fridge, please feel free to take anything you want." Grasshopper clapped her many hands together and smiled at the lot of us. I glanced back. I was here with Gomorrah and Princess and Knight, but Hedgehog was taking up the rear with Tankette and Rac was here too, next to Gros Baton. "So... what''s the goal here?" I asked. "It''s a viewing party," she said. "I sent a message to my friends in the Night Watchmen network and they agreed to patch us into their feed for the big event. It would be a shame to only learn what happened via reports instead of seeing it for ourselves." "They have cameras that good?" Gomorrah asked. "For a live feed, I mean." "The time delay is somewhat mitigated," Grasshopper said. "Though I didn''t look into the mechanics of it. I believe our front-row cameras are provided by the Keiretsu. They have monitoring drones closer to Phobos than anything else. Let me set things up while everyone makes themselves comfortable!" Tankette stepped up, tilted her head, and... didn''t quite hum something? Was she sub-vocalising? A moment later a seat thumped onto the rug a step before her. It was... a tank chair. Like, not a chair from a tank, probably, but a large, armoured lay-z-boy style recliner made of metal with thick rivets and a canvas-covered seat. "Did you ever get a furniture catalogue?" Gomorrah asked me. "No? Did you?" She nodded. "For the house. Atyacus, as discussed." A seat appeared for her too. A sort of love seat, all black leather with a subtle bit of black embroidery on it that hinted at flames without there actually being any. "Fuck c?a, j''vais me chercher une chaise normale. Tu veux quelque chose?" Gros Baton asked Rac. She shrugged, then left with him, supposedly on a quest to find some chairs. "... Yeah, nevermind, it was a stupid question." It took a bit for things to get started. Grasshopper acted like a good host--even though she didn''t need to--and made sure everyone had a drink nearby and access to snacks. Unfortunately her idea of a good drink was cold water or juice, and her idea of a snack was shit like celery. I was convinced that no one actually liked celery. Eating celery was performative, like doing a little dance to get likes on your media feed. I didn''t have to endure the celery for too long, though. Less than an hour after we arrived, Grasshopper excitedly turned the screen on. It immediately connected to a channel that wasn''t narrated or anything. This was raw footage of the inside of a command room of some sort. Rows of seats facing inwards towards a huge display, people in lab-coats and suits sitting behind computers and waiting for something to happen. A few samurai. Well, there was no way of knowing if they were samurai for certain, but they were dressed differently than all the rest. I did recognize Doctor Radikal in the bunch. "What''s this footage?" I asked. "Just the overview of the command room," Grasshopper said. "It''s live. We''ll be cutting to what they see once the operation starts." "Do we have an ETA on that?" Gomorrah asked. "We have another twenty minutes," Grasshopper said with a nod. "I wonder if the Keiretsu will be launching their own attack early." "That''d go against the agreement, no?" Tankette asked. "It was the Germans, then them, then us, right? I wasn''t paying too much attention, sorry." "Yeah. The Network''s not exactly German though," I said. "But close enough. I think Grasshopper means more... well, the Keiretsu''s attack isn''t going to be nearly as fast as the Network''s. I mean, how fast is their super weapon, anyway?" "As quick as gravity, I believe," Grasshopper said. I didn''t know how fast that was, but I had the impression that it was still faster than a suicidal drone swarm. "Something''s happening," Rac said. I glanced back at her, then up to the screen. It did, indeed, look like something was happening. The samurai were moving off to the side and the people at the desks were perking up. Some chatter came through, but it was all in German so I didn''t have a sense of what was being said. Then the screen switched to complete darkness. It took me a moment to notice the faint lights of distant stars. A HUD appeared over the screen, then it zoomed in on a distant spec. The more it zoomed, the greyer it became until there was an image of a rock floating in space in the centre of the screen. The wings could only mean that this was Phobos. "Oh, I should have gotten popcorn," Grasshopper lamented. *** Chapter Forty-Five - If Youre Unhappy and You Know It, Flap Your Wings! Chapter Forty-Five - If You''re Unhappy and You Know It, Flap Your Wings! Chapter Forty-Five - If You''re Unhappy and You Know It, Flap Your Wings! "So, Chips as Subscription didn''t work out. So I was thinking... how about we continue our previous Product Size Adjustment? Introducing... Bag of Chip! Now available in all 725 flavours currently available! Low in calories, and each bag is large enough to have room for plenty of tangential advertising too!" --Layers Potato Chip Company, CFO Memo, 2038 *** We got a full HD view of space and Phobos in the distance, but it didn''t help explain anything. Which was why I was kind of thankful when a corner of the screen was suddenly taken up by a familiar face. Doctor Radikal adjusted his glasses, then ran a hand over his face. He had a thick five-o''-clock shadow. I didn''t know much about facial hair, but it looked like he might not have shaved in a day or three. Actually, the bags under his eyes suggested that maybe he just hadn''t slept in that time. "Ah, yes, greetings friends and compatriots," he said. "I see that we have listeners from both the Keiretsu and the Big Gun Project. Greetings, greetings." The image on the rest of the screen shifted, then zoomed out. It turned into a sort of map, an empty grid with Phobos on one end, lines pointing out which direction the moon was moving in, along with its relative velocity. More dots appeared, Keiretsu drones flying in formation with their own velocities plotted out and an ETA to impact. "As you can see, our partners'' drone flights are going to hit Phobos approximately nine hours from now. This first wave contains mostly high-yield thermonuclear deterrents. Ah, but before that, our Weltraumgewittermeister Teslakollisionsgenerator will be going online for the first time to hopefully rip the wandering moon asunder." The grid map zoomed out and out and out, then a new icon appeared, this one around a small green-blue marble that had to be Earth. The icon looked like a metal coil with some stylized lightning bolts around it. "The Weltraumgewittermeisterteslakollisionsgenerator will be coming online in t-minus... one minute. Oh my, one moment, I may be needed here." Doctor Radikal''s image disappeared. I shifted in my weird seat and glanced at the others. They were mostly relaxing. Tankette had stood up at some point and come back with more food. It was mostly mini carrots and some dipping sauce, and like, chips and popcorn, but the healthy kind which tasted alright but didn''t hold up against the artificial crap I''d grown up on. Still, I grabbed a bowl and stuffed my face full because I wasn''t raised to say no to free food. "So, I''m guessing we''re not actually going to get to see anything," I said. "Too far, right?" "You''d usually be quite correct," Grasshopper said. "But I suspect that there are enough sensor apparatus pointed at Phobos that we will actually be able to see something visually. Otherwise we''ll have to rely on real-time simulations." It wasn''t super obvious at first glance, but there was movement on the surface. Large areas of the moon were cracking. What was obvious were the wings. The massive almost butterfly-like wings spreading out from the sides of Phobos were being squeezed into the moon''s sides. Arcs of electrical energy were coursing along their surface, leaving long burning scars where they passed. "No immediate reaction from the moon," Doctor Radikal said. "Can I have the... yes, thank you." He brought something up, a tablet that he read over then nodded as if to himself. "Looks like the collider is working. We have signs that there have been several minor shifts on Phobos'' exterior structure. The moon''s temperature has risen by two degrees!" That didn''t sound like much at all, but maybe I was wrong. The shifts were probably a lot more impactful. I could imagine Phobos being filled with antithesis tunnels and hives within the moon''s surface. The equivalent of a small earthquake would mess those up. "Pushing to one hundred percent," Radikal said. This time there were definitely more lights on the Storm Collider flickering on and off. Each side of the collider opened, ejecting six heatsinks that were glowing red. Some even looked like they''d been slagged by the heat. "Hmm, minor damage alerts on the main collider''s cooling system," Radikal said. "Drachenscho?pfer was right." The screen flicked back to a view of Phobos. This time there was no hiding that the Storm Collider had an effect. The moon looked like... like someone had grabbed a few pieces of paper, scrunched them into a ball, only now that same paper ball had been crushed by a giant''s hand. The massive wings were splattered against the moon''s sides and there were canyon-sized cracks running along across the surface. The far side of the moon exploded. Chunks of rock that the on-screen hud quickly measured as being half a kilometre long were tumbling away from the backside of the moon and spreading out. "Regrouping," Doctor Radikal said. There was a sort of pulse. I wasn''t sure how to describe it, but the reaction was plain to see. The bits of the moon scattering away paused, then came crashing back down against Phobos'' surface. "Nice!" I cheered. And then, because I had awful timing, the antithesis decided that this would be a good time to react. Massive tentacles burst out of the moon''s side, a thousand openings on their slimy surface disgorging tiny black forms that quickly hid against the black of space. More things came pouring out of the moon. Some huge, whale-like creatures that I''d never seen before, enormous ropey worms, and the moon looked like it was forcing itself apart once more, only this time the sections were linked together by long strands of living matter. Phobos had come alive, as if it was a single living thing host to a million little monsters, and it didn''t look happy about it. *** Stray Cat Strut Music! - Kill and Buy [Kuro-P] Stray Cat Strut Music! - Kill and Buy [Kuro-P] Link to the Song: /watch?v=GV3ONGVlOYM So, this has come out of absolutely nowhere for me! Made by the fantastic Kuroi just... because he felt like it? Here''s a heap of alternative links too: / kill-and-buy-with-b-side-maniac-rising-single Amazon music: /gp/product/B0D... Check it out! And check out Kuroi''s other music too! KuroiDiisCoover updated novels on Chapter Forty-Six - Eww, What Even Is That? Chapter Forty-Six - Eww, What Even Is That? Chapter Forty-Six - Eww, What Even Is That? "Antithesis specimens are divided into broad categories called ''models.'' These models represent a general shape taken by the aliens, though there will always be some deviation between subjects of the same model, just as no two humans are exactly alike. Models are, in turn, categorised in tiers. Tier one represents all models from one to ten. Tier two represents all models from eleven to twenty, and so on." --Antithesis Identification - A Xenowatcher''s Primer, Birdwatchers of America, 2046 *** "What the fuck am I looking at?" I asked as I kept staring at the unfolding monstrosity on the screen. The antithesis... thing was unspooling long fleshy... not-quite-tentacles. These were bridging the gap between massive segments of Phobos'' surface crust, almost like some sort of weird shell being expanded outwards.ViiSiit novelbi/n(.)c/(o)m for latest novels There was a tug, and the shell started to close once more. Plates that had to be the size of entire provinces crashing togethers at the edges and sending small chunks of rocks flying every which way. That looks like the start of a Model Sixty-Eight. They''re one of the more esoteric biological constructs that the antithesis will deploy once they have space superiority. Think of it as a mobile hive. "That thing''s a hive?" I asked. But yeah, that made some sorta sense. "No, nevermind, that makes sense. It''s fucking massive though." Antithesis generally grow larger the higher the tier. This isn''t always the case, but there''s a definite pattern of growth, both in size and complexity and capability. A Model Sixty-Eight can grow to be the size of a small moon. As evidenced by what you''re seeing now. "Anything we need to know in particular about it?" I asked. "Or is it just a bigger, meaner bug that we need to squish?" Expect it to be able to move and manoeuvre in ways that would seem counter-intuitive based on its size and mass. Also, expect esoteric weapons and capabilities. Higher tier models are more versatile, and their biological nature doesn''t prevent them from using something akin to modern technology. I closed my eyes for a moment, then stood up, which was a little awkward considering the weird chair I''d bought. Somehow, my back felt... nice? I glanced across the room. The others were mostly glued on the screen, watching the alien moon writhe and reset itself. Data was streaming in on half the screen, and while I couldn''t parse it, I was sure Grasshopper and Gomorrah could. Maybe Hedgehog too. "Stray Cat?" Princess asked. "Are you leaving?" "I''m going to call Doctor Radikal," I said. "Susan too, I guess." I didn''t like being pushed into anything like a leadership position. It wasn''t my thing. But... fuck. I wasn''t awful at it. Not good enough to start bragging, but I wasn''t a complete dumbass. I could figure it out. I''d like to think that I had street smarts enough to handle the bottom rungs of New Montreal well enough. This whole thing was on another level, but some of that same logic applied across the board. My gut was telling me that this was like when two gangs that shared a block had to deal with some corpo fuckery. In that kind of situation, putting heads together was usually the best move. "I think that we''re punching upwards against a foe that is far stronger than we''d initially hoped. We would be remiss to expect the antithesis to roll over and allow themselves to die so easily." I nodded along. That did sound about right. "Our hits are gonna come in staggered, right? We can do one hit an hour here. That still leaves the aliens an hour to heal between each strike. How often can we use your collider?" "Four times a day," Doctor Radikal said. "Four times a day. Those times will be doing lots of damage, right? And the Keiretsu?" "Our drone production is only ramping up," he said. "The more time passes, the more frequently we''ll be able to strike." "Alright, okay," I said as I continued to nod. "This is going to be something of a longer fight, then. Not a fight of... what''s the word for a fight that''s won because one side ran out of resources?" "Attrition?" Doctor Radikal asked. "That''s the one. It''s not a battle of attrition since we''re ramping up and have more resources to call on the closer Phobos gets. If we see that what we''re doing isn''t working, then we ramp up. We can definitely afford to build a second Big Gun. I imagine your drone production can just keep growing. Not sure about your collider...." "We can upgrade it!" he said, sounding rather cheerful about the entire idea. "There are some here suggesting we do so already. A lot of the limitations we have on the device now are in place to allow it to function for longer under less strain. If there''s more risk that Phobos will be an unavoidable threat, then we can push the machine to its limits and beyond." "Okay, cool. We might want to time things going forwards. Either space it all out so that there''s non-stop damage against Phobos or time strikes to come in when Phobos is reeling already." Susan hummed. "We have time to attempt a few different approaches against the foe." "Time until Phobos is right upon us," Doctor Radikal said. "Is there any chance of that happening?" I asked. "Truly? I think it is unlikely. Several agencies are burying their heads in the sand, but as the last hours approach, I believe they will try anything. That might collide with our own attempts to save the world. Let''s focus on ridding ourselves of Phobos now rather than later." "Alright," I agreed. "Worse case, we''ll chip away at it, right? I saw lots of little bits of the moon flying off into space. I imagine we can continue doing that until it''s nothing but scattered dust, yeah?" "Those will be an issue," Susan said. "We''re going to have to contend with a great meteor shower. Though we can, given time, rid ourselves of any threateningly large objects." I puffed out a breath. It was one thing after another, wasn''t it? *** Chapter Forty-Seven - Kami-Cant Chapter Forty-Seven - Kami-Can''t Chapter Forty-Seven - Kami-Can''t "Drone warfare is changing everything. A soldier costs millions to train. A drone can be produced for cheap. American explosives, parts made in a Chinese 3d printer, motors made in Vietnam, with Taiwanese chips, running off of Indian software. Give me a million dollars and I''ll hand you a thousand flying bombs worth more than ten times their cost in soldiery." --Former Naytheon CEO Jim Jimmies, moments before retired US Marine Tucker Bison assassinated him, 2031 *** Just before I returned to our... cinema tent, I got a message from Grasshopper. The Big Gun was ready to fire. Before that, however, we had time to sit back and watch the Keirestsu''s kamikaze run. I was looking forward to it, actually. Seeing a nuke go off in space was going to be neat, I figured, and seeing multiple was... probably going to be pretty awesome. I wasn''t going to miss that. A sudden pang hit me as I walked back in though. I missed Lucy. Bet she would have loved to see this, but it was a little late to run back and fetch her. "Myalis, are we recording these streams?" I asked. Of course. For data analysis, if nothing else. There is also a possibility that these streams may serve as propaganda pieces later. I frowned, but... yeah, that was very possible. People needed to know that shit wasn''t hopeless, and what better way to give people hope than to show their enemy being peppered with nukes. "Hey," I said as I returned. "You''re back," Princess said. "How did it go?" I shrugged. "Not so bad, I think. Doctor Radikal calls it a seven out of ten on the shit scale. So it could have been worse. We''ll have to see how this next hit goes, and then give it our own shot." Gomorrah nodded from her seat nearer the front. "That seems reasonable. Are there any changes in the plan? New tactics or the like?" I flopped down onto my seat and stretched a little. Damn, it was kinda comfy. "Nothing too big. We''re switching to a sort of... war of not-quite-attrition from here on out. The Keirestsu can keep ramping up, and we''ll be in charge of smacking Phobos every hour on the hour. Our nerdier friends will crush the moon four times a day, so I think, overall, things will work out." "Oh, I see," Grasshopper said. "A war of attrition rarely works out against the antithesis, but in this particular case, the antithesis are playing a zero-sum game. They only have the moon''s resources at their disposal. And the ambient energy from the sun, I suppose. They can''t claim any more biomass than they have. Every piece of Phobos we carve away is part of their foundation gone forever." "That''s the rough idea, yeah," I said. "Do we have any idea when the Keiretsu''s thing¡ª" Grasshopper looked at one of her four wrists. There was an old-fashioned watch there, without even a digital screen. I didn''t know how to read clocks with the little arms like that, but I supposed she did. "In about five minutes," she said. "Enough time to warm up some more popcorn!" "I''ll get it," Tankette said as she hopped out of her seat. "No no, please. I''m feeling useless." The last was aimed at Hedgehog who had started to stand, presumably to help her. Two more drones blinked out. "Engaging evasive manoeuvres," the woman''s voice said. She didn''t sound quite as calm. "Nuclear warheads primed. Contingency twelve active. Sacrificing drones one through six." Four of the screens went white. From the viewpoint of the other drones, there were suddenly four suns floating in the void of space out ahead of them, growing balls of brilliant light that they just barely skimmed by a split second later. The plot showed the explosions as balls the size of marbles next to Phobos, which, comparatively, looked like a beachball on the screen now. Two more drones were lost. Then six more. The plotter started to fill with hundreds of contacts out in space. Winged monsters, black and nothing, some of them were discorging spines and spikes and exploding balls covered in thorns that caught some of the drones mid-flight. It was thinning the drone swarm. But not enough to prevent some from striking the moon''s surface. On the screen for those, it looked like Phobos went from a distant baseball-sized lump of rock to the moon suddenly being right up in their face. I jumped in my seat at the suddenness of it. Every screen went white. They switched to what I presumed was another observational drone, and we got to see nine growing spheres of bluish smoke expanding in front of Phobos. Their edges curled and twisted, a fractal that soon splashed across the moon''s surface. When the dust settled, there were expanding craters pock-marking the front of Phobos'' surface. "Nine successful detonations," the woman''s voice said. "Out of thirty-six kamikaze drones," ninja-guy said. "We will send the data now. Prepare for initial observations." The plotter grew to take up the entire screen, with notated information around each location that was struck. The shockwaves from the nukes were still travelling through Phobos'' surface, and the chunks blown off the moon were coming back down, crashing into it to leave even more cracks and dents on its all-grey surface. "Was... that a complete flop?" I asked. "What were those things, in space?" "Space-capable antithesis," Grasshopper said. "And I wouldn''t call it a flop. Rather... let''s call it a learning opportunity. We''ll have to do better, next time." "Next time is our turn," Gomorrah said. She stood. "Come on. Let''s try and see how well we can do." *** Chapter Forty-Eight - Push My Red Button Chapter Forty-Eight - Push My Red Button Chapter Forty-Eight - Push My Red Button "What''s the big red button do? Why don''t you push it to find ou-- wait, don''t actually push!" --Transcript of a Recording of the Russian Incident of 2025 *** There was this strange thing that happened whenever something big and unique was going on. I''d first seen it a few years back. A large cylindrical truck had swayed around something on the road and rammed into one of those metal guardrail things on the roadside. The cab was totalled. The driver was very dead. And then some other truck drove right into the first''s rear. They''d had time to slow down a little, so it wasn''t nearly as big of a bang, but I could still remember the sound of it. I''d been a block or so over, and I knew that the noise didn''t come from gunfire. It was too... crunchy? Anyway, I''d wandered over to find that people had split into three camps. Two or three guys were checking on the driver, looking for a pulse, trying to get him out of the truck''s cabin. I might have been tempted to help, but by the time I arrived they were already giving it up as a bad job. Dude''s brains were across the dash anyway. The other two groups were much more populous. The truck was transporting fresh water. The people in the second group had grabbed buckets and were stealing all they could. Water was expensive. Clean water moreso. The last group, the one I''d been part of that day, just milled around a dozen metres away. Rumours spread, someone who might have seen the accident repeated their story a dozen times, and we all partook in some head shaking and complaining about whatever shit had caused the accident. It wasn''t a memory I called up often, but the moment felt pretty damned similar. The Big Gun was done. Major Tinwhistle was standing tall and proud, hands on hips and eyes stained red by strain and stress. "It''s done," she announced to Grasshopper. There were only two groups this time. The onlookers, composed of all of the engineers and soldiers who''d been roped into the project, and the samurai. Well, some of us, at least. A few had contributed what they needed to, and were just milling on the edge of the much bigger onlooker group. "Stray Cat, Gomorrah," Grasshopper said. She smiled at the both of us, then started towards the very back of the Big Gun. Or was it the front? The bit where the shooting would start, in any case, not the end with the exit portal. That part of the gun was like a small shack. A well-built, brutalist''s ideal of a small shack. The walls were foot thick concrete poured over inch-thick metal plates. The inside was a cramped little space that I was pretty sure came from one of Tankette''s catalogues. There were a few small adjustable seats in front of a complex set of screens and buttons. All analogue, at least on the surface. I did notice a few ports for data-jacking into the gun, like connecting into the Mesh. Grasshopper went to the furthest seat and sat, then she gestured to the other two. One was next to Grasshopper, the other at an angle near the rear of the room. "What are we going to open with?" she asked. "You mean what are we shooting first?" I asked. "We need to make a solid first impression." "Something with good penetrative power might be best for now," Gomorrah said. She looked across the screens and muttered something I didn''t catch, probably to Atyacus. They lit up. Diagnostics flashed by, and then a long list of status readouts. It looked like we were green across the board. SHELL LOADED MAGNETS ON CAPACITORS AT... 100% TARGET LOCKED BLINK PORTAL TEST... PASSED READY TO FIRE "Does anyone in particular want to do the honours?" Grasshopper asked. She gestured at the large red button with the word FIRE stencilled across it. "I don''t particularly care," Gomorrah said. "Catherine?" "I mean... yeah, shit, I wouldn''t mind," I said. Grasshopper smiled and leaned over so that I could reach the button. I touched it, then pressed down. It made a satisfying little ''click'' noise. Then I felt every hair on my head pulling upwards and suddenly there was a deep and foreign itch in my bones. Text scrolled by on the screen, too fast for me to read. Then the Big Gun fired. There was a single thump. It was as if someone had dropped a fifty-five gallon drum off the top of a mega building and recorded the noise it made on meeting the ground. Everything rocked back and the dozens of readouts in the room flashed. "Oh shit, we good?" I asked. "We are well, yes," Grasshopper said. "Everything is still green. Look." She pointed to the plotter. There was a flashing green dot that had left Earth''s orbit and was now slowly crawling across the screen towards Phobos. The fact that it was moving at a speed that I could see, though, probably meant that it was moving at an obscene speed out there. "Nice!" I said. "When is it gonna hit?" "We have time for a small break," Grasshopper said. "Should we stock up on ammunition in the meantime? I somehow doubt this one strike will be enough to take Phobos down." "Right, not a bad idea. Do we want to try a few different things? I''ve got some ideas for what we can throw at them," I said. Gomorrah perked up. "Atyacus and I have been talking as well. Can I have the next shell?" "Go right on ahead," I said with a gesture to the breach. There were more holes like the breaches all along the back wall, where there was room to store a lot more shots. Something in my gut told me we''d probably need all of them before this was over. *** Interlude - The Free Radikal Interlude - The Free Radikal Interlude - The Free Radikal Doctor Radikal (Kaleb to his few friends) felt a hard thump against his back that almost sent him sprawling forwards, but he caught himself on the edge of a desk and glanced over his shoulder at the perpetrator. What he discovered was a familiar man, smiling gently in a way that didn''t suit his enormity. "Don''t worry so much," the big man said. "We''ve done well enough, haven''t we?" Kaleb let out a sigh, but he did nod. The Collider was, for the most part, a success. His AI had crunched the numbers, and the amount of damage the Phobos object was going to sustain from the collider alone should be enough to ensure that Phobos would only ever reach Earth in a state where Earthly forces would be able to defeat it. Moreover, they had built the collider knowing that they wouldn''t be the only ones to step up to the metaphorical plate in order to try and assist. He had expected... more, however. Perhaps this was his own fault. Kaleb was a scientist. He was born in a corporate scientific research compound to two parents who were researchers. He had grown up surrounded by men and women of science, where the rules or reality were second only to appeasing the whims of their corporate overlords. He''d gotten a good enough education and unmatchable practical learning from a very young age. In all the ways that mattered, he was encouraged to dive deep into the unknown and tear knowledge out of the grasp of reality. That''s how he liked to romanticise it. In reality most of the research had been done on the behest of various corporations trying to get a lead on their competition. They were entirely unwilling to share anything. That, and more often than not, their method of uncovering new truths was to deconstruct the work left behind by samurai. And then one thing led to another, and he''d become a samurai himself. "You''ve got that look on your face," his companion said. He grabbed Radikal by the shoulder and gave him a firm grip. It was going to leave bruises, Kaleb just knew it. "I know, Drachen, I know. I''m merely reminiscing on what brought us here." The big man, Drachenscho?pfer, was a dear companion of his. A larger than life personality who didn''t know his own strength at the best of times. People dismissed him as an oaf on seeing his stature, but he was quite clever. It was no wonder Drachen had been chosen to be a samurai. Kaleb oft wondered why he, himself, was chosen. Shaking the thoughts away, Kaleb glanced across their control room. Seventeen stations with computers and systems fifty years ahead of where humanity''s greatest lay, all facing a massive screen whose definition was unmeasurable. This was the place from which they would save the Earth. There was no accounting for points and costs and such trivialities. "Let''s tighten our intervals where we can. Collate the data from this first shot and get someone to extrapolate potential damages to the system going forwards. Let''s not waste the time we have, yes?" He turned to the others, nodded, then eyed the screen for a moment. The Big Gun had fired a few minutes ago. It had been mildly impressive. The portal system more so than the gun itself. Now they were following the projectile''s telemetry as it shot out across space on a collision course with Phobos. "Comms, send a message to the Keiretsu. I want all the data they can collect on Phobos'' geology. Not just the surface. We need geothermal readings as well. Midnight Ranger, can you share some of your sensor equipment with them if it comes to it?" The samurai in question blinked, then nodded. They weren''t a very vocal person, but their sensor technology was second to none. Kaleb hoped that the Keiretsu wouldn''t mind losing a drone in order to have better sensors around Phobos within the next couple of days. "Let''s have the Lab AI crunch some numbers," he said. "I want to know exactly what angle to strike Phobos at. Enough of our general assaults. Let''s concentrate our power where it will do the most." "That seems to be what the Big Gun team is doing," Drachen said. Kaleb perked an eyebrow at that and walked over to his friend. "They have? What is their payload?" "A Casaba-Howitzer," Drachen said. "Miss Grasshopper has forwarded us a list of their existing munitions. It seems as though they will be launching... everything at the rogue moon." Kaleb was familiar with the platform in question, but he hadn''t been expecting it as the first option the Big Gun team would be going for. He rather expected a simple nuclear device. "Well-well, that''ll be interesting to see, then," he said. He eyed the screen again. Seven minutes to impact. From earth to Phobos in what was about half an hour. Their travel speed was simply ludicrous. "We might want to consider installing similar weapon platforms in orbit," he said. Next time there was a Phobos-like disaster, it would do them all well to have the infrastructure in place to destroy it without the current mad scramble. But that was a problem for the future... assuming they made it there. "I can tell you''re worrying again," Drachen muttered. "Come on, friend, stop being concerned and start looking forwards to this! Our companions overseas are putting on a show for us, aren''t they? It''s impolite not to watch with enthusiasm!" "Hmph. Watching with enthusiasm isn''t what we need right now," Kaleb said. "Everyone, I want all of our surveillance equipment working properly before that strike lands. Our allies are giving us an opportunity to learn much, so let''s not miss it!" *** Interlude - The Samurais Samurai Interlude - The Samurai''s Samurai Interlude - The Samurai''s Samurai Susan shifted. He was on a soft cushion, one filled with a pad of a gel-like substance that had tiny motors within that kneaded the muscles of his leg, preventing them from falling asleep even after hours of being sat in seiza. It was a nice thing to have at the moment, because he had spent the day sitting here, and it didn''t look like it would change any time soon. Susan was in a well-appointed room. Traditional walls, but spaced far apart, a great glass wall that overlooked Tokyo, and a long, low table where he and his business partners could sit and discuss the current business. That business was the Big Gun group''s attempt at shaking up Phobos. "The projectile is on its final approach," Hex Kagome said. The many tiny panels over his eyes flashed through a quick pattern, then he nodded. "Our surveillance drone should be able to capture it." "Do we know what they''ve sent?" Sentai Blue asked. "I don''t care what it is, as long as it explodes in a fun way," Nya replied. Susan looked over the group. These were three of the nearly hundred Ronin that made up the Keiretsu. A full quarter of their organisation was invested in this one project, but many of the other samurai who were assisting could not be here now. A few had come to witness the first strike of their kamikaze drones first hand, but then they''d left, preoccupied by other matters. The global incursion wasn''t terrible for Japan, but it was putting a great strain on their more land-bound allies. Phobos was a problem they all had to deal with, but it lacked some intimacy for some of them. Susan took hold of a cup of warm tea--kept at the perfect temperature for sipping, and raised it to his lips. When he lowered it, it was to eye Nya. "Please calm down. I''m certain that our allies will do what they can." She grinned, then stretched all the way back, almost as if to show off the level of flexibility her oft-modified body held. "I''m sure. You saw their leader, n-yeah?" "Yes, I saw her," he replied socially. "And she is not, as far as I can tell, their leader, merely their spokesperson." "Their spokescat." "No," Susan said. She grinned, and he refused to look at her anymore, at least for the moment. He wondered what it would be like to work with Ronin who weren''t as insufferable. Nya had always had a... thing for her theme. Actually, he could say that about a lot of Ronin, himself included. There was a significant difference between the Ronin of Asia and the Samurai of the west, and it wasn''t just their strange nomenclature. There was a cultural difference as well. "Looks like it''s starting," Sentai Blue said. The man''s face was covered by a tight helmet which disguised his visage, blue and black with some light silver trim. Not dissimilar to all of the other Samurai and Ronin that adopted the Sentai name. His visor glowed, and Susan imagined that he was observing the attack even now.Ge?t latest novel chapters on nov(e)lbj/n(.)c/om There was no question that Hex Kagome could see everything through his own interface. Susan reached down to the smooth wooden surface of the table and his fingers found a hair-thin crack that opened as he swiped past it. There was a jack within, one that he pulled out and carefully slotted into a corresponding connection near his temple. "What was that?" Nya asked. "A Casaba-Howitzer. A nuclear explosion used to propel a plasma projectile forwards at ridiculous speeds," Hex reported. The explosion continued to spread across the close-side of Phobos. It was impressive... but less so than any one of the nuclear strikes they''d landed with their kamikaze drones. "It''s penetrative," he said. Hex chuckled. "It should be." Telemetry and early scans returned, and the AI currently controlling what they were seeing ran the numbers and showed them a timelapse of the seconds before and after impact. "Hmm," Susan said. The moon''s shaking actually served as a decent way to get a better picture of what was happening beneath the surface, and what was happening was impressive. The plasma from the Big Gun''s shot had pierced through the outer crust of the moon and wedged itself deep within. It had run out of energy eventually, but not before leaving cracks in every direction, like putting a bullet through a glass pane. "Overall damage?" Susan asked. It was an impressive strike, deeper than any of theirs, but... "Light," Hex said. "Localised. It''s a needle in the kidney where what we did was like a dozen strikes to the chest. It''s more internal damage than what we did, but it won''t take the moon out yet." "Hey, our friends are helping. Maybe that new cat girl''s just testing her claws, nya?" Susan sighed, then reached up and pulled the jack away from his temple. He blinked a few times as his vision cleared and he was seeing the room as it was once more. "We''ll be trading blows with Phobos for some time, I suspect." Nya blinked back to the present as well, then gave him one of her ever-irritating grins. "Like playing with a mouse, no?" "Less a mouse and more an angry dragon," he said. "We''re projecting a victory, destroying Phobos long before it arrives on Earth, but that''s assuming that we continue to ramp up our production and our assault. Let''s not fall into complacency." "Mhm, mhm!" Nya agreed. "More importantly, I wanna go see my fellow cat! Do you need anyone to meet with the Big Gun crew face-to-face?" "No," he said. "Are you suuuuure? Nya?" she asked. This time while flopping down onto the table and half-rotating around with her arms outstretched. Sentai Blue carefully moved his tea out of knocking range. "I''m positive," he said. Though... now that he thought about it, that would get her out of his hair... and hearing... "Actually, perhaps something could be arranged after all." *** Glossary: Model Eleven Glossary: Model Eleven Model Eleven? Enemy Classification: Aerial Transport / High-Threat / Heavy Attacker Elimination Reward: 100 Points Model Description: The Model Eleven resembles a colossal bird, drawing comparisons to prehistoric pterodactyls but on a much larger scale. Its body is covered with scales, and it possesses a large, beak-like mouth filled with sharp teeth. The model is designed for both carrying biological matter and offensive capabilities. This model boasts multiple stomachs, enabling it to transport substantial mass, including smaller models such as the Model Ones, which can attach to its body. Equipped with formidable claws and exceptional vision, the Model Eleven dominates from the skies, serving as both a biological carrier and a heavy assault unit on the battlefield. Artist Depiction of a Model Eleven? Threat Analysis Report: Model Eleven Threat Rating: High Overview Model Eleven serves dual roles within the Antithesis forces: as a key aerial transporter and as a formidable combatant. Its ability to carry numerous smaller units across great distances and deploy them with precision makes it an invaluable asset for strategic operations. Threat Capabilities Mass Transport: Capable of carrying entire squads of smaller models within its expansive belly, Model Elevens can quickly change the dynamics on the ground by deploying forces where they are most needed. Combat Proficiency: Apart from its transport capabilities, Model Elevens can engage in combat using their large beak and claws, making them a threat to both ground and air targets. Enhanced Surveillance: With their superior vision, Model Elevens can relay critical battlefield information back to the hive, directing more localised forces effectively. Survivability and Adaptability: Their scaled body provides significant protection against small arms fire, though it may be vulnerable to heavier weaponry. Strategic Threat Assessment Containment Difficulty: High. Due to its size and flight capabilities, engaging a Model Eleven requires specialised equipment and tactics. Military and Civilian Risk: Very High. Their ability to transport and deploy Antithesis units deep within human territory, coupled with their own combat capabilities, poses a significant threat to both military and civilian targets. Deployment of surface-to-air missiles and other anti-aircraft systems to counteract Model Eleven air superiority. "Recording now. We''re delving into the biological intricacies of Model Eleven today. This creature, though reminiscent of ancient Earth''s pterosaurs, shows remarkable evolutionary adaptations. The scales covering its body are not just armour but part of a complex thermoregulatory system, crucial for maintaining its massive body temperature during extended flights. Their wings are... neat? They look leathery at first glace, but on closer inspection they''re covered in fine scales that are shaped like elongated teardrops. Almost like feathers but not quite. These feather-scales are soft and somewhat pliable." "Its visual acuity is extraordinary. The eyes are positioned to maximise a nearly panoramic view, essential for navigation and spotting threats or targets from high altitudes. This visual capability, combined with its large beak lined with teeth, suggests a predatory design optimised for both surveillance and combat.""Cutting into the softer stomach now... Ah, wow, that''s a lof of juices. Thank fuck for PPE. Uh, let''s see... the multiple stomachs are a fascinating adaptation. It allows Model Eleven to carry various payloads, including smaller Antithesis models. The stomachs lead directly to a sort of... two way coclea? I''m going to let someone else name this one." [Recording cuts off for several minutes] Dr. Evelyn Hargrove: "In conclusion, while its physical prowess is undeniable, understanding the biological functions of Model Eleven could provide us with key insights into the operational logistics of the entire Antithesis hive. Further studies on its digestive and sensory systems could reveal vulnerabilities not immediately apparent through combat engagements alone. And also I need more budget for a forklift or something if you guys keep wanting me to work on bigger aliens." End of Transcript. Addendum M11-2: Known colloquially among troops as: - Sky Titan - Pterodactyl - Winged Leviathan - Beast of Burden - Birb - Big birbo Addendum M11-3: Research on Pheromone Communication Ongoing studies into the pheromone communication system of Model Eleven have shown that it can emit complex chemical signals during flight, potentially coordinating the actions of ground units in real-time. Disrupting these signals could impair the tactical efficiency of Antithesis forces, offering a new avenue for countermeasures. Addendum M11-4: Ecological Impact Report An ecological impact study has been initiated to assess the consequences of Model Eleven''s activities on local wildlife and ecosystems. Preliminary findings suggest that the disruption caused by its large-scale movements and the chemical traces left by its spores and pheromones significantly alter local flora and fauna, leading to shifts in ecological balances that could have long-term effects. Fortunately, Model Elevens are relatively uncommon in newer, less developed hives. Addendum M11-5: Tactical Deployment Observations Field observations have documented instances where Model Elevens have been used to strategically drop smaller models into conflict zones, acting not just as transport but also as first-strike assault units. Analysing these deployment patterns has provided crucial intelligence on Antithesis attack strategies, guiding the development of targeted defence measures against aerial assaults. Chapter Forty-Nine - Im Cat and You Are Watching Deep Space Ballistics! Chapter Forty-Nine - I''m Cat and You Are Watching Deep Space Ballistics! Chapter Forty-Nine - I''m Cat and You Are Watching Deep Space Ballistics! "Today, we''re going to see how these watermelons fare against this discarded samurai railgun we found by the Ohio incursion zone! Stay tuned!" --Youtube video transcript, 2032 ***CHeCk for new stories on no/v/el/bin(.)c0m The bomb went off, then, in less time than it took for two neurons to connect, the projectile it launched was ramming into Phobos'' surface. "Fuck yeah!" I cheered as we got a big-screen view of the strike. Tankette had brought her tank around and installed a little projector on it. Major Tinwhistle had found a large white tarp and had it strung up between two cranes. Sure, this was probably the kind of shit that ought to be classified or something, but it felt wrong not to have the entire group witness the fruits of their labour. Engineers were whistling, workers were cheering. Someone had broken open a case of beer and they were being passed around. Another had set up a bar-b-que and cheap hot dogs were being roasted. It made the entire place feel like a party. It was deserved. These guys and gals had spent hours working on the Big Gun. Without them, this moment wouldn''t be happening. It was a rush job, done with no time to spare. I looked around and saw plenty of baggy eyes and slumped shoulders. These people were exhausted, but they were also happy for the moment. Proud, at least. I turned my attention back to the projection. Our strike was creating a moving wall of dust and debris away from the point of impact. A small stud of a mushroom that was slowly expanding against whatever gravity Phobos had going for it. The spots where the Keiretsu nukes had hit had taken hours to clear out, and they''d left a few massive craters behind. I had to wonder what our hit had done... but not for long, because the screen split and the right side was replaced by a 3D diagram of the moon''s surface. Lots of numbers were thrown up on screen, but it didn''t take a geologist to see the spiralling cracks moving away from the point of impact, or the way our shot had dug a hole right into the moon. "What''s that bit?" I asked as I pointed up to where it looked like there was a second explosion way deeper in the crust. I was surrounded by most of the other samurai in our group, but it was Major Tinwhistle that answered. "Spalling," she said. Let me draw up some pathing predictions. New lines appeared, showing where the chunks blown out of the back of the crust would have gone. "The moon''s surface is tough, like a shell, but the interior is likely all antithesis, with tunnels and structures dug into the moon, but also large roots and veins and arteries as well as organ-like structures within the moon," Grasshopper said. "We''ve likely done more damage with our one strike than the previous wave of drones managed to accomplish." "Damn," I said. I was feeling a bit of that pride too. It looked like we''d done the equivalent of popping the alien with a small-calibre bullet that broke up inside of them. Gomorrah cleared her throat. "If that''s the case, then we need a distraction. Something plausible. Maybe even something you can build near our site that''ll leak on purpose and which will make the army and us look bad." "You wanna make us look bad?" I asked. "Just to make the attempts to hide what we have more plausible," Gomorrah said. Major Tinwhistle nodded. "It''ll have to fit with the equipment we brought over. Maybe... a mass grave? Those always piss off the media." That sounded properly messed up. "Okay," I said. "I guess... dedicate a shift to dig what looks like a mass grave. That''ll be our cover story. Do we need to go deeper? Make up reasons for it?" "No," Gomorrah said. "If we don''t have a ready excuse, then those investigating the site will have to do the research themselves, and it''ll lead them nowhere." "Okay," I said. I really wasn''t cut out for this kind of game of deception. "Can I leave that up to you, then?" I asked both women. Gomorrah and the Major both nodded. "Will you be staying overnight too?" "Not if I can avoid it. I wouldn''t mind coming in first thing in the morning. What about you? First thing in the morning in Catherine time is... around noon?" "I mean... yeah," I admitted. I glanced up. It was well past the early evening right now. All of the various attacks we''d launched at Phobos had been nearly an hour apart from each other. The next squeeze from the Collider would probably be in three or so hours, and I bet there were more drones on the way. Our own next strike was only minutes away too. "So, we''re gonna set a clock and fire the Big Gun every time it''s off cooldown?" "It''s not very hard to automate, everything is there for that already," Grasshopper said. "I just wanted to make sure that first shot was special." "Heh, alright," I said. I stretched, then looked over the crowd. The party was well underway now. It seemed like all of the tension had drained out of the group and they were celebrating as best they could. Major Tinwhistle was making a concerted effort not to notice the alcohol, or the lingering smell of weed in the air. "Well, in that case, I think I''ll be heading back out." Grasshopper giggled. "You might want to catch up to young Miss Raccoon quickly, then," she said. I blinked, then looked around again. Wait, where was Rac? For that matter, where was that little Frenchman? One moment... I have discovered your companions'' location. They''re right over here. Myalis painted a marker on my vision, one that led quite a ways away from the centre of the camp next to the Big Gun and closer to some of the big machines. I stomped my way over. If that kid was hurting Rac, I''d smack him around, Samurai or no. Fortunately, as I approached, my ears twitched and I made out the sound of giggling. Rac''s giggling. When I came around the corner, I half expected to find something inappropriate going on, but they were just sitting next to each other on the tracks of a bulldozer, both with a glass bottle in hand. "Oh, hey," I said. Well, shit, way to make myself feel awkward. *** Chapter Fifty - Trash Panda Pondering Chapter Fifty - Trash Panda Pondering Chapter Fifty - Trash Panda Pondering "You must choose one. Cut the general working''s salary. Or cut the security force''s salary. You absolutely cannot do both." --Lessons in Human Resources, Fifth Edition, 2038 *** The ride back home, with Rac clinging to me from behind as I rode my bike across the skies, was about as awkward as I expected it to be. Probably more for me than for her, to be fair. She hadn''t done anything weird, just hung out with a boy close to her age. Maybe I was reading too much into it. It wasn''t like I was her mom or anything. She could do what she wanted. I was pretty sure Gros Baton was like... seventeen-ish, so there wasn''t anything too weird there. He was definitely a better friend to make than the gang she''d been riding with recently. Well, I guess mercs weren''t a gang, but Garter and his little buddies were bad influences. A bunch of samurai were probably much better people to hang out with. Probably. Samurai at least had the benefit of the Protector AI picking them out as ''good enough'' folk. But I might have been a little biased there. We swooped in towards the only building with a giant cat topping it off, and I brought my bike down for a gentle landing before the doorway. I could have gone into the parking garage, but the weather was actually kinda dry, for once, and I was too damned lazy to slow down fully and slip in. Plus, this spot was more fun to leave from in the morning. "Alright, off off," I said. Rac needed to hop off before I could swing my leg up and over. I bounced on the spot for a moment, then glanced over to Rac who was staring at me, hands in her pockets. "What?" I asked. "It feels like you wanna say something," she said. "No?" I tried. Her eyes narrowed. "Are you sure?" "Yeah, I''m pretty sure," I said. "So, uh, let''s go in? Unless you''re heading out again?" She looked up. The sky was that deep bluish colour that came when all the nightly ads came on, with a few spots of purple and orange where some bigger signs caught the lower hanging clouds. "Nah. It''s late. I might load up the printer again. Uh, I''m running out of materials for it." "Ah, yeah, that''ll happen. I kinda put that out of my mind, what with Phobos and all." "Right. The end of the world is more important than that," she said before shifting. "Kinda weird that we have to worry about that." "Heh, yeah, you tell me. You know, when I became a samurai, I thought I''d mostly be worrying about smallfry issues. A few aliens here and there, maybe a big hive to blow up. But mostly I expected to have to take care of me and mine and maybe the neighbourhood. This is... bigger." "I get that," Rac said. She scratched at the back of her neck. "I wasn''t expecting to live much longer, you know? There''s only so long you can go, scrounging in the undercity. I had a good run at it, but you can only be so lucky. Never expected to be where I am now." "Hmm, yeah," I said. "Uh... maybe we can do something to help others? Other Racoons out there, I mean. Not now-now, but it''d be nice. Once we have things settled. We can set something up. But first, you know, the world." I wasn''t in the habit of eating vegetables, and I wasn''t sure I was ready to start. But on closer inspection it was mostly diced potatoes and maybe carrots, all baked in some sort of sauce. It did smell real good, and there was still a bit of steam rising off the top. "Well shit, grab me a plate and some knives," I said. "I''m about to do a number on this bird." Lucy grinned, then turned to Rac. "Want some too? It''s good, I swear. I''ve been getting better." "I don''t refuse free food," Rac said reasonably. I started to cut into the juicier, less bony parts of the chicken until Lucy saw what I was doing and stole my knife and fork from me. Apparently I was doing it wrong or something, but the end result was being served a hefty chunk of meat and so I wasn''t about to complain. "You know, you really make saving the world worth it," I said. Lucy smiled. "That would be far more romantic if you spoke after you finished chewing, Cat." I smiled back, then made a point of swallowing. "It''s because it tastes so good?" "Nice try, but no. Oh, and by the way, we need some upgrades for the kitchen," Lucy said. "We do?" I asked. The kitchen looked fine to me. Fine-ish. It was a little messy, but I was sure Lucy could bully some of the kids into doing a half-assed job of cleaning it. "What''s wrong with it?" "The oven is a mess inside." "So clean it out?" I tried. "Fuck that, I''d rather buy a new one." I shrugged. "Okay." God, it was nice being stupid-rich. Lucy seemed to agree, because she looked extra smug for a moment. "Alright! Well, if that''s the case... I think I''m ready to explore baking. Let''s see if I can''t make a cake." "Your cake is fantastic already," I said. "What did I just say about flirting with your mouth full, Cat?" "I had a long day?" "I don''t know how that excuses you," she said. "Well, whatever. So, tell me about your day. Spill that juicy gossip, because I''ve been starving for it over here." "Oh, I have some good stuff to spill," I said. "So, what do you know about international samurai and their weirdness?" *** Chapter Fifty-One - Adamantium Toenails Chapter Fifty-One - Adamantium Toenails Chapter Fifty-One - Adamantium Toenails "Sassy? No, my AI is nice and polite? He''s like an old-timey butler. What? No, my AI is like a little sister I''ve never had. What do you mean a butler and little sister? Mine gives me shit all the time!" --Overheard conversation between three Samurai, 2025 *** I woke up to a kick. It was weird, because I''d once been pretty used to waking up to kicks, but I hadn''t felt one in a while. Lucy''s deteriorating condition often led to weird twitches. She said they hurt when she was awake but she didn''t feel them while sleeping. Instead, I was the one to feel them as she rammed her sharp little toe-nails into my shins and calves. It had been a while, though. Maybe the kicking wasn''t medical at all and Lucy was just lying to cover up her habit of moving in her sleep? We used to sleep in the tiny, narrow beds at the orphanage. They were only barely large enough for one adult, so any movement was hard to miss. I grumbled as I came awake and turned around. Blinking, I made out Lucy''s form in the dark with my cybernetic eye. She was sleeping at a forty-five degree angle across the bed. Blankets thrown off her upper body and face drooling into a pillow she was hugging. I grinned. She looked like absolute crap, which is why I took a picture and sent it to her. It would be a surprise when she woke up and checked her messages. Reaching down, I rubbed at my calf where she''d dug her nails in. "Dammit, Lucy," I muttered. She''d never drawn blood, but I swore it was a near thing. I checked the time and was horrified to discover that it was only eight in the morning. Holy crap, I was waking up at a reasonable time? I wasn''t even tired enough to fall back asleep. I rubbed at my face, then popped open my media feeds for a quick scroll-through. Lucy and I had been using the same old app for like, ten years now. It was a free version of an aggregator for various media accounts. It picked the juiciest gossip, news, propaganda, and advertising and shoved it all into one stream of easy-to-scroll slop. These kinds of aggregators usually had a monthly subscription fee, or you had to endure ads every so often, but this one was a beta version Lucy had found on some sketchy site that was a hundred generations behind. As long as we didn''t update it, we were fine. It was a right pain in the ass to stop it from updating though, but I''d long ago gotten into the habit of opening it through my augs, closing the update prompt, then opening the downloader that downloaded the next update and shutting that down manually. Still faster than looking at a single video ad. The news this morning was the usual. Political scandals, corporate scandals, celebrity drama. I watched a video of a cat pushing a brick off the side of a building where it landed on some pedestrian''s head. I''d seen that same video ten years ago, but the damned thing was reposted like clockwork. Some of the reposts were older than me, posted over and over again by attention-farming bots. I was ten minutes into the mindless scrolling when I passed some news about a few Brazilian samurai who''d blown up some statue or something that had been turned into a nest. They''d replaced it but the locals weren''t happy with the new one. My attention wandered to the corner of my vision. I had the time displayed up there, and under that, Myalis was keeping my point tally up. "Holy fuck!" "Well, you''ve been spending less time on your new mechanics hobby. Maybe you can buy a garage that''s got better tools and such. There''s the printer, it''s really good, but I think it''s maybe too slow for everything we''re loading it with. I think we wanted to make the house safer too?" "Right," I said. She wasn''t wrong. "And my gear could use an upgrade overall," I muttered. Do keep in mind that your current windfall won''t last forever. Once Phobos is eliminated the current influx of points will stop. Right, that was another good point. I hadn''t checked on the status of the moon. For all I knew the thing was riddled with holes and all the big aliens on it were long dead. I kinda doubted it, but it wasn''t impossible. "Urgh, I think I have a shift watching over the Big Gun. I can''t remember when it was, but I think I''m supposed to show up around noon." Lucy shifted in bed, then stretched. The blankets slid down, exposing some of her stomach that wasn''t covered by her silky PJs. "That''s hours away, you know?" "Uh-huh," I said. "I''m sure I could tempt you to spend that time well," she said. "Uh-huh." "By eating a proper breakfast for once." Lucy kipped up, or tried, she ended up mostly flopping around very unsexily until she rolled off the far end of the bed. "I wanna make this egg recipe I saw last night! Eggs benedict! They look really good." I pouted, but I was rather hungry. "Urgh, fine," I said. Lucy laughed at my plight, at least until I ran up behind her and caught her by the hips. Her laugh turned into a squeal, but she wasn''t leaving this room before I had time to kiss her silly. A few minutes later, Lucy was off to try some more experimental stuff in the kitchen and I hopped into the shower. "Myalis," I said as I rubbed shampoo over my scalp under a sheet of warm water. Yes, Catherine? "I need a few good ideas on what to spend those points on. I''m thinking it''s time for a few upgrades. Not physical stuff, though." The skin change had been pretty big already, and the new hair too. Anything more was probably pushing it for the moment. I''m certain I can think of a few options. You might want to revisit your catalogue list. They''re generally an expensive but worthwhile long-term investment. "Because I can buy more kinds of shit with them?" I asked. I wouldn''t use such faecal terminology, but essentially, yes. They widen the breadth of items you can purchase. That only makes you more capable and flexible, and overlapping catalogues do reduce the cost of some items. That was an idea. I had a few of those tokens sitting around too. Maybe dipping into the higher tier catalogues wasn''t a bad move either. "Alright," I said as I shut the shower off. "Yeah. I think that I can work with that. List away, Myalis." *** Glossary: Model Twelve Glossary: Model Twelve Glossary: Model Twelve Model Twelve? Enemy Classification: Electronic Warfare Unit / High-Threat / Troop Carrier Elimination Reward: 100 Points Model Description: The Model Twelve is an imposing figure on the battlefield, resembling a grotesque, oversized bumblebee with a bus-sized frame. It is equipped with six legs and functional wings, allowing for substantial mobility despite its size. The most distinctive feature of Model Twelve is its large rear section, which houses an advanced organic electronic countermeasures (O-ECM) system. This system is capable of disrupting electronic targeting and sensor equipment directed at it, making it a critical asset in Antithesis operations. Additionally, its carapace can carry smaller models, facilitating rapid deployment of forces across the battlefield. Artist Depiction of a Model Twelve? Threat Analysis Report: Model Twelve Threat Rating: HighOverview Model Twelve combines heavy transport capabilities with electronic warfare, disrupting communications and sensor systems while deploying Antithesis units directly into combat zones. Its ability to interfere with electronic equipment makes it a priority target in engagements. Threat Capabilities Electronic Countermeasures: The organic ECM system in its rear can jam radar, communications, and other electronic sensors, effectively blinding and confusing ground forces at critical moments. Mobility: Despite its size, the Model Twelve is surprisingly lightweight and agile, capable of quick aerial manoeuvres thanks to its robust wings. Troop Transport: Can carry and deploy multiple smaller models, enhancing the hive''s ability to project force and respond to threats rapidly. Survivability: Its size and mobility make it a challenging target, while the ECM capabilities reduce the effectiveness of guided weapons against it. Strategic Threat Assessment Containment Difficulty: High. The combination of electronic warfare capabilities and physical size requires specialised tactics and equipment to effectively counter. Military and Civilian Risk: Very High. Its role in disrupting communications can lead to significant operational failures, endangering both military personnel and civilian infrastructure. Potential for Expansion: Medium. While primarily a support unit, its ability to deploy troops and disrupt enemy systems indirectly facilitates Antithesis territorial expansion. Mitigation Strategies Electronic Hardening: Equip units with hardened electronics and counter-ECM technologies to mitigate the disruptive effects of Model Twelves. Anti-Aircraft Tactics: Deployment of rapid-response anti-aircraft systems that do not rely solely on electronics for targeting. "Recording now. Today, we''re diving deep into the unique ECM capabilities of the Model Twelve. Apparently. Dr. Evelyn Hargrove: "Initial dissections revealed multiple glands that secrete specialised compounds. I don''t know what these are, sending them to the lab. It looks like these compounds react with the air to produce ionized particles, which are then expelled to create interference patterns. Annnd my augs shut down again. I hate working on this thing." [Pause for note-taking] Dr. Evelyn Hargrove: "The implications for both military and civilian technologies are profound. Understanding these biological processes could lead to advancements in organic-based ECM systems, potentially offering new methods to shield sensitive information from electronic surveillance. Speaking more forthrightly, I have no idea how this works. By all means, it shouldn''t. This is pushing what I believe organic chemistry can do to the limit and beyond, and yet it''s doing it despite my reservations." [Recording ends] End of Transcript. Addendum M12-4: Corporate Interest from TechCor Dynamics Date: [Redacted] Communication: "To Whom It May Concern, TechCor Dynamics has been following the developments surrounding the Antithesis Model Twelve with great interest, particularly its biological ECM capabilities. As a leader in defence technology solutions, we believe there is significant potential to adapt these organic ECM mechanisms into our existing frameworks. This could revolutionise not only military defence systems but also provide robust anti-surveillance technology for private sector applications. We are interested in collaborating on research efforts to further understand and possibly synthesise these biological components for broader use. Best regards, [Signature], Head of R&D, TechCor Dynamics" Note: Refuse all advances from the corporate sector into research and development of O-ECM. The public cannot have access to systems that interfere so much with our surveillance network. Addendum M12-5: Tactical Review Meeting Date: [Redacted] Summary: During a high-level tactical review, discussions centred on encounters with Model Twelves highlighted the urgent need for improved ECM training for troops. The meeting concluded with directives to incorporate simulated ECM attacks in regular drills to better prepare forces for the disorienting effects experienced in the field. Additionally, the development of portable counter-ECM devices was prioritised to provide ground units with immediate response capabilities against Model Twelve engagements. Addendum M12-6:Environmental Impact Study A preliminary environmental impact study has been initiated to assess the ecological effects of the electromagnetic emissions from Model Twelve. Concerns have been raised about the potential disruption to wildlife, particularly migratory birds and marine life sensitive to electromagnetic fields. The study aims to determine the extent of these impacts and develop strategies to mitigate adverse effects on local ecosystems. Chapter Fifty-Two - Fingerguns Chapter Fifty-Two - Fingerguns Chapter Fifty-Two - Fingerguns "A Joytoy is a member of the lower to middle class who participates in the personal entertainment industry. They provide companionship and sexual gratification to playing clients. The modern Joytoy is often equipped with a range of cybernetic enhancements for their personal protection (C-IUDs, Bloodcheckers, STI-removal Biogear, ect) as well as personal enhancements to better serve their customers." --Commodification and U - A Guide to Bringing Joy and Earning Credits, 2047 ***U//ppTodated fr/o/m "How many tokens do I have?" I asked. Somehow I ended up sitting on the edge of the bed again. Sure, I''d slept a good bit, but I was still a little tired, and standing around while talking to Myalis was always kind of awkward. She was something of a voice in my head. There wasn''t any way to interact with her directly, not like when talking to a person face-to-face, and even on a call with someone, I''d at least have a phone in hand, or a screen open on my augs. With Myalis I had neither. Most of the time that was fine. It wasn''t like I needed to see her or whatever. But it did make things a little awkward when I wasn''t moving around or doing anything. You currently have four tokens saved up. I nodded along. That sounded about right. I didn''t track those nearly as closely as I did my points, and even my points were... mostly being accumulated off to the side now. "Four tokens, huh? So that''s four class two catalogues? How much does class three cost?" A class three catalogue would cost you three tokens. You could afford a single one at the moment. Speaking plainly, you have the choice between widening your spread of abilities and owned catalogues, or pushing one of your current catalogues up a tier which would help you hyper-specialise in one area. I nodded along. "Yeah, I get that," I said. "So, oh wise Myalis of my brain, what do you recommend?" I see three options before you. The first is as I mentioned, spend some number of points unlocking a number of new catalogues, then push these up a class with your current tokens. This option would widen the breadth of abilities and items at your disposal. "Go on," I said. The next two options are similar to each other. Either focus on your Esoteric weapons specialisation, or on your Sunwatcher Technologies, elevating either to class three. At that level, both options would give you incredible abilities when it comes to handling higher-tier threats. "How high are we talking, here?" I asked. The correlation isn''t exact. "What''s that mean?" I asked as I leaned back. Most Antithesis you''re likely to see within your lifespan can be defeated with equipment purchased from class one catalogues. The greater the class of the catalogue, the further from humanity''s technological base the items are, but that does not mean that near-human technology cannot defeat the enemy. "Right, okay," I said. It was like... anyone could die by being shot by a shitty handgun. Some things made that harder, body armour and the like, but that didn''t prevent that same gun from being dangerous. Higher classes of catalogues were like... upgrading from a dinky pistol to something bigger. It helped, but it didn''t mean that it was entirely necessary. "So, why those two catalogues? I mean, besides the fact that I''ve invested in both already." They''re both catalogues that fit your current preferences in terms of combat and lifestyle. Your Esoteric Explosives catalogue provides most of the equipment that has been allowing you to punch above your weight-class, and the Sunwatch Technologies catalogue has been providing you with most of your weaponry, armour, and other equipment. Right, so it was a three-way choice between going wide, going all-in on offence, or continuing with a pretty large set of very thematic equipment that covered a lot of bases. I flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling for a bit. "Okay," I said. "I think... logically, Sunwatcher Technologies feels like the right choice. It''s got a lot of prosthetics, it''s got armour, it''s got weapons. My mech''s mostly from there, yeah? So if I wanna upgrade that, then it''s the way to go." I chewed on my lip, but refrained from wincing. That was... still a lot of points. I was still fine. Now, about additional upgrades... "Urgh," I said. "No, I think I''ve spent myself out for the day," I said. Very well, it''s as you wish. I''ll nag you again once there''s more of a pressing need for new equipment. "Nag?" I asked. Do you need the word defined? "No, I know what it means, I''m just impressed that you''d just... right out and state it. It''s not exactly subtle." I don''t need to be subtle with you. It''s one of the reasons I bothered to insert myself in your head, Catherine. You''re refreshingly blunt and idiotic in just the way I like. "Uh... thanks?" Anytime... Just to be clear, I am currently making finger guns. "With what hands?" I asked. I am not at liberty to say. Why did the super-smart alien AI in my head have to be such a shit? Couldn''t I have a nice, polite, and reasonable one? Atyacus seemed fine. Very gentlemanly and polite. Sure he liked burning things, but that was all. I could live with a bit of pyromania. It was better than feline...omania. Lucy walked into the room, apron on and spatula in hand. "Breakfast is ready!" she said. "Oh, good," I said. A distraction. "What was it you made?" "Bacon and scrambled eggs." "Weren''t you going to make some other sort of fancy egg?" I asked. "Cat... for the sake of our relationship, can you please pretend that I intended to make scrambled eggs this entire time?" She batted her eyelashes at me sweetly. "Sure," I said. No one could accuse me of not taking a hint or being a bad girlfriend. "Let''s see about those eggs of yours." "Oh my," she said. I rolled my eyes, but followed her all the same. I was just surrounded by people that thought they were funny, wasn''t I? But hey, it wasn''t all that bad. Myalis was providing me with some cool shit, and I entered the kitchen to find a plate with eggs and bacon and... "Bargain, get the fuck away from my breakfast!" I snapped as I caught the brat red-handed. *** Chapter Fifty-Three - Egg Shells Chapter Fifty-Three - Egg Shells Chapter Fifty-Three - Egg Shells "Media literacy is only necessary when you can''t trust the media you consume." -Very True Social, Failed Slogan, 2038 *** I was just about done with breakfast when I decided to pop open the group chat for the Big Gun. Someone had added a new channel to the chat, which caught my eye right away. It was otherwise pretty calm, at least compared to the last couple of days where we were rushing to get everything ready. Hedgehog had been updating the main chat all night long with a rather formal list. He''d spell out what kind of shell was loaded into the Big Gun and when, then a few minutes later the shell''s impact on Phobos in terms of points he''d earned. Hedgehog: 23:14 High Impact Explosive Shell Hedgehog: 24:10 Points gained: 1045 Hedgehog: 24:15 PyroChemical MIRV Hedgehog: 01:08 Points gained: 820 The list went all through the night, more or less once an hour. The time between the shots and their impact on Phobos was very slowly decreasing by about one or two minutes after every shot, which was interesting to note. The points earned were all over the place. It seemed, at a glance, like anything that was more penetrative was worth a bit more. There was some additional commentary by Hedgehog about certain rounds. Mostly noting their effectiveness or lack thereof. One shell meant to blow up over the moon''s surface had barely made any points and he''d taken a lot of notes about why it was ineffective. Another MIRV shell had tagged a flight of smaller models as they were flying out to intercept some of the Keiretsu''s drones and Hedgehog noted that we''d earned a lot more points than we would have otherwise. Anyway, that chat was interesting to look over. If I had more of an analytical mind, I might be able to come to some smart conclusion from looking at it, but I figured I''d leave that to the others. I left a note mentioning how I bought a third-tier catalogue to give us access to more oomph, and Grasshopper immediately replied with a... gif of a chibi version of herself pressing a gold star onto a cartoon cat''s forehead? Did she have a ''silly gifs'' catalogue or was her AI just as childish as she was? Actually, I didn''t want to know. The new chat, once I clicked it open, had me sitting up straighter. "Fuck," I muttered. Lucy''s head whipped around. "What''s wrong?" she asked. "Did I leave some eggshell in? I was sure I picked all the bits out." "Wait... was that the crunchy bit? I thought it was pepper?" And to think that I was aiming for the hardest part of the day being the bit where I picked out what to shoot at the aliens next. Saint-Je?rome appeared out over the horizon and I zipped towards it then circled around the southern end of the city. There were a few balloons hovering over the walls with flak guns mounted to their sides to take out any flying models, and it looked like some of Major Tinwhistle''s engineers were slowly working to refurbish the barriers that had fallen apart. A lot more of the city was alive now than when we''d first arrived here. More lights were on, more people out on the streets. It looked like cars were still forbidden except for some buses moving around, so people were taking to walking and biking around. A few armoured cars and lighter tanks sat on the busier intersections with soldiers milling around them. Probably rapid response teams, in case a civilian discovered some alien that needed killing. All that was well and good, but it didn''t mean that things were back to anything like normal. The massive camp on the south end of the city seemed to still be full. Maybe not to bursting, but it looked like half the city''s population was there. "Hey, Myalis, do you have a good idea of where the kid is?" I asked. One moment... yes, his AI has confirmed his location after asking for his permission to disseminate the information. He is next to the hardware store. Marking the location now. The hardware store? That turned out to be a larger building pretty much right under me. The front was opened up and it looked like some tents and such extended all the way inside. Judging by the number of brand-new barbecues being used outside, the place had been turned into more camp space. Next to it was a parking lot that was currently occupied by a half dozen news vans, including a few that looked like they could fly on down to where they were parked. I even recognized some of the logos. The New Montreal Gazette, La/The Presse/Press, The Journal of New Montreal. Then there were the newer ones. NMN, CBC2, Shoot Star. That was a pretty big chunk of the local media pie represented down there, and it looked like they''d deployed the attack journalists on Gros Baton. The kid was... not quite pinned against the wall of the hardware store, but he certainly had it to his back and looked like he couldn''t make an easy getaway. I spun my bike around and brought it down. Journalists and camera dudes leapt away not to be squished beneath me. A few had their perfect hair mussed up by the wash of the bike''s thrusters, but I did make sure that I wasn''t actually going to land on anyone. "Hey, what the hell?" one guy asked, which... was fair. He choked on his words as I unsaddled the bike, then tugged my coat on straight. "Sorry," I said without feeling it. "Just need to squeeze on past..." I blinked as the media types formed ranks and I suddenly found myself next to Gros Baton while they cut us both off from my bike. I decided not to be too concerned. The worse they could do was make me look bad. "Hey," I said to the kid. "You good?" "Ca va," he replied, but his smile was a little shaky. "Can we, ah, get the fuck out?" I grinned. "Sure, but maybe you can let me answer a question or two?" Just because they could make me look bad didn''t mean I wanted them too, and maybe tossing them a bone would keep these dogs calm for a bit. *** Chapter Fifty-Four - Burned/Scarred/Butch, Scary, and Notorious Chapter Fifty-Four - Burned/Scarred/Butch, Scary, and Notorious Chapter Fifty-Four - Burned/Scarred/Butch, Scary, and Notorious "As with most careers, the modern journalist has their own codified look. Journo fashion is usually marked by plate carriers and bulletproof vests, often in bright, faction-neutral colours. Occasionally a journo will be wearing a flak helmet as well, oftentimes with several electronic upgrades attached to it to allow them to capture the world around them in high fidelity. The modern microphone, with sound dampening, vocal-tuned pick ups, and at-range-listening is another must-have for any fashionable journalist." --Fashion Careers, 2049 *** "You good?" I muttered once I was right next to Gros Baton. The kid nodded once, his face set and serious, brows drawn into a scowl. "J''pense que c?a va. Mais ces journalistes-la? n''arre?tent pas de me harceler." I think I''m alright. These journalists won''t stop hounding me, though. He gestured to the journalists who were kind of crowding us in. I was pretty sure I could beat a path to my bike with no problem. I only saw a few guns in the lot. Plenty more body-armour though. Plate-carriers were the order of the day, and a few of them had army-style helmets repainted with the logo of their stations on the sides. Not all, mind, a lot of them were trying to look friendly and personable, all corpo-smiles and artificially friendly faces. There were two ways out of here, I figured. That mostly came from the limited experience I had seeing celebrities and samurai dealing with the media, so it was all third or fourth hand experience. Still, I''d seen some meme-able fuckups and knew what not to do. Don''t insult the journos... unless I was really hot, funny, or popular. Don''t repeat ''no comment'' endlessly, it only pisses them off... unless I was hot about it, or funny, or popular. Don''t get too defensive, don''t ramble, and don''t assume the mic is off. Unless I could be hot or funny with it. Fuck, being hot, funny, and popular was one hell of a leg up, but I wasn''t any of those three so I''d have to be sensible. So, two solutions. Drag Gros Baton out of here as quick as I could, fast enough not to piss this lot off, or... the other solution. "Alright, you fucks," I said before waving them down. Somehow that actually shut some of them up. "You get one question per network." They all started at once. "Oi! Shut the fuck up!" I snapped. Wait, was that insulting? Fuck me I wasn''t good at following my own advice, was I? "One per network. I''ll know if you''re being a dick about it. Don''t test me. You! Yeah, you, the gormless guy with the baldspot. Yeah, I can see it, question, now." Screw it, I was gonna handle this bunch like I would unruly kids and I''d hope for the best. "Uh, Kai Voss, for Apoca-Lips," he said before pointing a small microphone my way. "Uh, can you let us know about your relationship with the samurai next to you?" "Gros Baton?" I asked. "He''s nice enough." I shrugged with a shoulder. "Next. You, with the blue and yellow hair." Dude had a logo with the same colours on his chest. Consider it sent... because it is. Holly seemed happy enough with that judging by her winning smile. "You," I said, pointing to the next guy. We were... maybe halfway though, but I wasn''t going to stand around here all day, not when I could see more media-types rushing over. "Word, Buzz, of Politycon. Are you planning to murder any more politicians?" "Only if they don''t keep to their lane," I said. "You?" "Penelope Scope, The New Montreal Celebrity Investigators. We''ve noticed that you have a few cat-like body enhancements and have recently set up a charity-like program offering people low-priced prosthetics. Are cat ears going to become available as well? Maybe tails and claws?" "I wasn''t planning on offering anything like that," I said. "Would people even want that? No, don''t... don''t answer that. You, with the fancy tech hair." I pointed to a chick with a fro made of green and blue tech hair. "Wanda Lust of the Globe Travellers News Association, have you considered roaming outside of the New Montreal area?" "Uh, not really, but I have been making friends in other countries lately, so who knows? Maybe I''ll fly over to say hi one of these days? I''m sure shit''s worse in some places than it is here and they might need a hand." I pointed to one last guy. He seemed smartly dressed, more of a classic journo than the rest. He nodded in thanks and adjusted a pair of aug-glasses. "Benjamin Lebeau from CNMN. My... peers here have brought up a number of questions, but I really wanted to know where you stand with regards to improving New Montreal. You shot the mayor, causing a great deal of political turmoil in a time where such is unwelcome, but you''ve also visibly put a lot of effort into the reconstruction and repair of the New Montreal sewer system." "Uh, sorry, Ben, but where''s the question?" I asked. "Forgive me. The question is; what are your policies and do you aim to improve the city, if so, how?" he said. I had to take a moment to unpack that, but no more than a moment. To these kinds of jackals, a long pause would only give them fuel to call me slow-witted and stupid. At least, it would be enough for the kittens. "Right," I said to fill the air a little. "Look, I''m from New Montreal. Born there... more or less raised there. It''s home, and it''s never not been shit. The air stinks, the people are cunts and it''s a giant festering shithole. I don''t think I can change that. I''m just one girl, samurai or no. But I''ve got some friends, like this little brat here, and others, and we''re willing to claw and shoot and fuck shit up to keep the city going. I guess that''s my policy. I''ll fix what I see as broken enough to bother fixing. Don''t expect me to turn the place into a utopia, if you want that you''ll need to do your share too." "Thank you," Benjamin said. "Yeah. Okay, that''s enough, we need to get back to work. Talking to you bunch won''t get the aliens any more dead. Yeah yeah, I don''t care, move it. Move it! For fuck''s sake." *** Chapter Fifty-Five - Cutting To The Heart of The Moon Chapter Fifty-Five - Cutting To The Heart of The Moon Chapter Fifty-Five - Cutting To The Heart of The Moon "Are they hiding something from you? Top Secret News says... yes! Exclusive street-side interview with two samurai reveals hidden truth! A Conspiracy is at play! Subscribe now!" --Top Secret News, 2057 *** "Hey, thanks, eh? You saved my ass back there," Gros Baton said. "Yeah yeah, just don''t get too comfy about it," I grumbled. I didn''t mind the kid. He was polite enough. Hell, he was just a good bloke as far as I could tell. He tried, at least, and that was more than I could say about a disconcertingly large portion of the population. My only problem with him right now was that he had his arms wrapped around my waist. I didn''t have any issues with Rac holding onto me. She was a kid, and a girl, so it was fine, but I was getting all sorts of squicked out by this guy. I mean, it was objectively stupid. I was wearing several layers of armour. None of his disgusting boy germs were gonna escape his hairy arms and get to me, but it was still uncomfortable. Fortunately, we didn''t have to fly far. I shot across Saint-Je?rome, then down to use some of the taller buildings to cut our line of sight from the media sorts we''d left behind. Then I gunned it, rushing out of the city at an angle and slowly curving around westward until I was aiming more or less towards where the Big Gun was. A few minutes later we were being scanned by a dozen AA positions that looked ready to tear us apart until something pinged us as friendly. I really needed to upgrade my bike to something that could take a few flak hits before the inevitable happened, but the inevitable wasn''t happening today, and I landed in the open space before the command structure a few dozen metres from the big Gun. "Alright, enough clinging to me, off, off," I said. "Yeah, yeah," Gros Baton said as he rolled off the side of the bike. "It wasn''t comfortable for me either. Didn''t know where to put my hands. Christ, you need ''andles or something." "Keep talking and I''m getting a sidecar," I said. "That sounds kinda fun?" he said. "I was thinking I''d get something too, ya know? Une genre de skidoo qui peut voler ou ben quelque chose d''me?me?" I wasn''t sure what he was saying there, but I kinda got the mental image from his gesturing. "Uh-huh. Just make sure it''s got a good auto-pilot. Real lifesaver that shit." "''Kay," he said with a nod. I checked the time on my augs. I was only twenty-minutes late to the start of my shift, which really didn''t explain the ''why did you shit on my bed'' look Hedgehog was giving me as I got closer to the command centre and he stomped out. "You finally decided to show up?" he asked. "Yeah," I agreed. "Had to save the kid from the big bad journalists. I think I''ve given them enough to talk about that they''ll leave us alone for a minute." She was holding a large, quilted-looking blanket close, and had her head leaning to the side against one of the consoles. Someone had snuck a pillow under her, and judging by the little hedgehog pattern on its cover, I had a good guess as to whom. "She''s... a very heavy sleeper," Hedgehog said, but he was keeping his voice lower too. "Uh-huh," I replied. "So... what worked?" He frowned, and I had the impression he''d pulled something up in his Augs. "The most successful round so far was the deployable monofilament bomb." "Really?" I asked. Hedgehog seemed to take offence at the question. He turned towards the consoles behind him and tapped a few buttons. At least he seemed familiar with the Big Gun''s controls now. A few moments later one of the big screens lit up. It was a visual of a projectile moving across a plotter. The usual thing now for visualising one of our shells zipping out towards Phobos. Then it cut to what had to be a sensor drone''s point of view. The time code on the bottom of the screen slowed down, so we were seeing things one fraction of a second at a time instead of replaying things in real time. The camera caught sight of the shell and started to zoom in, only for the shell to unfold and break apart. The casing flew off into the void of space, but what it revealed looked like... "Kinda butt-plugish, huh?" I asked. Hedgehog sighed. The... I was gonna call it a dart for now, was spinning through space at what was probably a ridiculous speed even as six smaller darts flew out of it. Then it crashed into a rocky outcropping on the edge of Phobos, a sort of mountain that took the impact with barely a puff of dust rising from where the dart hit. At least, at first. The camera zoomed out, then zoomed right back in as a slice of that mountain shifted. It was a perfect cut, being pulled downwards slowly before it gained momentum and started a small avalanche. It became clear that the dart had basically six long slices right out of the mountain, and they were all moving now that they were separate. "It''s hit or miss," Hedgehog said. "The cuts go deep, but just because something is cut doesn''t mean it''ll detach itself." "Right," I said. Tons of stone like that didn''t just move away so easily. "But the damage is good, otherwise?" "In combination with the Tesla collider? It''s significant. It seriously weakens the moon''s structural integrity, and the monofilament wires can stretch out for hundreds of metres. It''s the widest-range weapon at our disposal right now." I nodded along. That made sense. It was small as hell, so it was easy to pack a ton into a single shell. "Not bad," I said. "But let''s see if we can''t try something else, huh? I got my hands on a new catalogue and I need to test out what sort of trouble I can get up to with it." Tankette snored in approval. *** Chapter Fifty-Six - Le Bad Suck Chapter Fifty-Six - Le Bad Suck Chapter Fifty-Six - Le Bad Suck "I see you, I feel you. You thought I was dead? You wish I was. But you forgot that I''m It. I will fuck you up in ways that no one''s ever fucked someone up before. They will invent words to describe what I''m going to do. I will turn your corporation into statistics. I am a broken mirror and my shards are in your throat. I''m going to tear your reflection out of your spine... bitch." --Mad Vlad to Calliope Corp CEO before their bankruptcy, 2045 *** "Alright," I muttered just low enough not to wake Tankette up. "Myalis, what have you got for me? Keep them under... call it one thousand points a shell? We need to fire a fuckload of these." Certainly. Are we still going for variety first? I considered it, then realized that I had two others to do the thinking for me. "Hedge, do we go for variety or just lots of what we think might work?" He frowned, then nodded slowly. "Variety. But please don''t grab anything wasteful. We only have a few dozen more shots to make this count. We can try new things--and we''re probably better off varying the kinds of damage we deal--but we can''t afford to waste effort and shots." "Got it," I said. "Heard that, Myalis?" I did. Let''s start then! First, might I suggest something simple to whet the appetite? "Go on." Was she trying to sound like a fancy server on purpose? Actually, scratch that, she definitely was. The first is a Scrambler bomb. This one detonates and creates a field around itself that shifts items around. It''s not quite random, but it might as well be. The Scrambler will remain active for a relatively long time after deployment and will continuously move atoms away from their current location and to a random one nearby. "And that does... what to a person?" It scrambles them, Catherine. That kills people. "Oh," I said. "How big of an AOE are we talking here?" "AOE?" Gros Baton asked, but it was aimed at Hedgehog. The man started to explain about video game terms like Area of Effect and how they ended up co-opted by the military. The area of effect begins at a kilometre across, give or take a few bus-lengths. Then it shortens over time with the incident of atomic re-materialization increasing exponentially. I must add that this creates a lot of radiation, both as heat and across the radioactive spectrum. "Fuck it, we won''t have to deal with that, the aliens will. Add one of those to the shopping cart," I said. "Next?" Next... an Electron Suppression bomb would have some interesting effects on the Phobos object. It would give all protons in a large area a negative charge. "I don''t know enough about physics to tell what that would do, but I can imagine it would be bad. Add it!" Fantastic. A riff on a bomb that you''ve purchased before as a grenade might be interesting; the Full Stop is a device covered by a nearly unbreakable shell. Once activated, it stops moving. "Why would a device that can''t move be good?" I asked. You misunderstand. It cannot be moved. It is spatially locked. I shrugged. "What would happen to Phobos if it runs into a spatially-locked indestructible thing?" Hedgehog perked up. "You should get that." Cryogenic Anti-Thesis Stasis x2 Total Cost:13,250 points Point total reduced to: 32,530 Fourteen shells appeared in the racks, each one slotting into place with a satisfying click-thunk. They were all slightly different, with shiny exteriors covered in burnished steel. "That''s half a day''s worth of shells," I said. "If we''re lucky, we won''t even need this many." "If we''re lucky," Hedgehog said. He glanced at his wrist, where an old-school watch was wrapped around his arm. "The Tesla collider should be firing within the next hour. We''ll shoot right after. And then my shift will be over. I''ll escort Miss... Tankette to bed." "How romantic," I said. "She''s not interested that way," he said. I blinked. Did that mean... he was? But Hedgehog had a poker face like a marble statue and didn''t give anything away. "Sleeping this way will give her a crick in the neck. You might be too young to understand, but once you hit thirty you''ll know that sleeping crooked is unacceptable." "I know what you mean, yeah. We used to get mil-surplus beds back at the orphanage," I said. "The mattresses were thinner than a slice of burger meat and you were lucky if you got one of those without springs. Knew one kid that died because of one of them." "How did he die to a mattress?" Gros Baton asked. "Tetanus," I said with a shrug. "Like, half the symptoms of that are shit you get from bad dieting, so it''s not like it''s easy to tell that he had something wrong going on, at least until it was too late." Hedgehog just stared at me for a moment. "That''s messed up." "Happens. Anyway, are we good here?" "We should be. Keep us updated on the group chat as things progress. And please make sure not to leave the site without at least one samurai present. Two is better," Hedgehog said. "The media is sniffing around, as proven by Gros Baton''s interaction with them earlier, and that''s not to mention the others liable to want what we have here. Any one of those shells would be worth millions to a corp." Don''t give the dubiously-moral corporation access to WMDs, got it. I padded over to Tankette''s side and touched her shoulder. "Hey, uh, Tankette, time to wake up?" I hesitated and almost called her ma''am, but that was too formal. ''Sweetie'' swung the bar all the way to the other side, and ''dear'' was right out because I wasn''t born in the 1800s. She blinked awake, then looked around herself with a start. "Oh my, did I fall asleep? Hedge, I''m so sor--" She cut herself off with a demure little yawn that she hid behind a hand. "Sorry... I guess I''m not fit for staying up all night anymore." "Been a while?" I asked. "I''ll have you know I used to be able to party from sundown to sunup." Somehow, trying to imagine Tankette as a party girl felt... inherently wrong. "Uh-huh." "How do you think I ended up with my first child?" "I really don''t want to know," I said. She laughed, then stretched her neck to the side. "Oh, I''m going to have a crick all week." "Best get you to a proper bed, then. Come on, Gros Baton and I will take over while you get your sleep on." *** Chapter Fifty-Seven - In Space No One Can Hear You Buzz Chapter Fifty-Seven - In Space No One Can Hear You Buzz Chapter Fifty-Seven - In Space No One Can Hear You Buzz "Top 8 best selling AUG games of 2057 1. Reality Runners [AR Collector Game] 2. The Family [Samurai Gacha] 3. Silly Starlight Symphony [Rythme Gacha] 4. Galaga 2 [Fixed Shooter Arcade] 5. Quantum Heist [Party Game] 6. Minecraft [Sandbox] 7. Verseforge [World Creator] 8. Catastrophe Clicker [Clicker Game] --Game News Networld, 2057 *** I thought being on watch would be boring, and I was mostly right. It did have a few highlights, though. A dinky little alarm clock went off a few minutes after Hedgehog carried Tankette away. It was one of those small red ones, with the two big bells on top of it, and the purely analogue clockface. I wasn''t even sure how to read the time on it, but I did figure out that smacking the little knob on the top shut it down. "Okay, I''m guessing that means it''s time to shoot something," I said. "C?a l''air pas mal c?a." Gros Baton said. "What''re we shooting?" There was a whole menu with all of the loaded shells on it on one screen that he was flicking through, each option highlighted one after the other. "Good question," I said. "Uh. What''s the situation over around Phobos?" I eyed the consoles and realized that there were a lot of blank buttons. I pressed one at random, then some part of my less stupid brain realized that I''d just pressed a random button on a kilometre-long gun''s control station and that was probably a bad idea. Instead of pushing random buttons, how about you just let me handle things and leave the poor coolant control system alone? "Yup, sorry," I said as I drew my hands back from all the buttons. "Just... can we throw up Phobos'' status ATM on the big screen?" Certainly. I felt Gros Baton eyeing me, so I half turned to meet his gaze. That gave him the push he needed to ask me a question. He even bothered to ask it in his accented English. "Why do you talk to your AI, uh, out loud?" "You mean Myalis? How else am I supposed to talk to her? Text?" "Yeah," he said with a nod. "Oh. Well... isn''t that impersonal?" I asked. The usual hair-rising thing happened as the Big Gun fired, followed by the hiss of coolant working to keep the gun intact. "Myalis," I said once the noise died down a little. "Can you show me how to run diagnostics? I''d like to shoot more than once an hour. Even just ten minutes sooner every hour would be one more shell every six hour shift, right?" Ten times six is sixty, yes. I can help you with that. It should be possible, though it will increase wear slightly. Given the time constraints, the increased wear shouldn''t interfere with operations. "So we can keep shooting and shoot a little faster and shit won''t blow up in our faces? Yeah, I''m down for that." I reached up and rubbed at the spot where my cybernetic cat ears met my head. Gros Baton nodded, then pointed to the screen. The Bee Bomb was arriving. It looked like a streak across the monitor as it raced towards Phobos. We watched in glorious HD as the bomb exploded and sent a thousand pinpricks moving across the screen. They intercepted just as many model elevens in mid-flight, turning the birds into statistics. "Nice," I said as I leaned back. The keiretsu didn''t waste too much time. Some drones continued to mop up. More of them flew right into Phobos, slipping between the cracks which were soon illuminated by laser fire. I wasn''t sure what was going on in there, but I figured it wasn''t pleasurable for the aliens. I blinked as I got a notification from Myalis. It had me sitting up a little straighter. Targets Eliminated: Model Eleven - 278 Model Twelve - 41 Points earned: 31,900 Points distributed to Vanguard: 3,987 New point total: 46,517 Holy shit, that was a lot of points. "We''re eating good tonight," I said. I resisted the urge to rub my hands together. Didn''t need Myalis switching me from Cat shit to Racoon shit. That role was taken already. Gros Baton grinned. "I''mma buy the loudest skydoo," he said. "Yeah, you go bud." To be fair, though, that last bomb had targeted small, easy to eliminate models instead of the moon. It wasn''t actually helping directly except to farm points. That eight percent wasn''t moving so easily. But more points meant I could afford more shells, which was nice. I''d just filled my budget for the next day and a bit. The Tesla Collider was going to fire soon too, so that would hopefully leave us with a nice gap where we could fuck up Phobos before it would have time to recuperate. It was going ot take some time to fuck the moon up, and I was legit afraid that it would take more time than we had left. But hey, Keiretsu and the Nightwatchmen weren''t freaking out as far as I could tell, so that was probably a good sign. "Right... so uh, we''ve got another fifty or so minutes to wait, huh?" Gros Baton shrugged. "Ouien?" "Yeah... got any games on your augs?" *** Chapter Fifty-Eight - Knight Takes Moon Chapter Fifty-Eight - Knight Takes Moon Chapter Fifty-Eight - Knight Takes Moon "People still play chess? That game''s ancient! Why would anyone still want to play that?" --Live Streamer MonMonMan, 2034 *** The hours were crawling by, and if the fate of the entre world wasn''t at stake, and if I wasn''t making points hand over fist, I might have fucked off already to do something more entertaining. As it was, Gros Baton and I were in our sixth game of chess. The kid had bought a holographic chess set for like, three points or something. It hovered between us, the board currently a bit of a mess as our pieces were locked trying to contest the middle. He was winning, of course, but if he made about... six major mistakes in a row, there was a tiny chance that I''d make it through. His pieces looked like tiny mediaeval people. His knights looked like knights and his bishops like bishops. His pawns were teeny-tiny napoleonic soldiers with itty-bitty muskets. "Pawn to E5," he said, and one of his lil soldiers struck one of my knights with the fun end of his bayonet. My pieces were cats. My king and queen were lions, my knights were bobcats in platemail, my bishops were leopards with little pope-hats, and my towers were small towers with lazy tigers sleeping atop them. My pawns were plain old house cats. What few I had left. "Ah, fuck," I muttered. That move had opened up the middle, once that pawn of his died his queen would be right up in my king''s grill. And then my phone rang. Or the phone app on my Augs went off, at least. I jumped, and blinked at the names calling me. The Keiretsu and the Nightwatchmen calling me at the same time? I glanced up at the Phobos monitor before I hit reply. Gros Baton and I had smashed two more shells into the moon. An electron suppression bomb, which had done... something? It left a large hole bored through the moon and made the radiation sensors the Keiretsu have go absolutely haywire. And right after that, a black hole bomb. That one had been less impressive than I''d hoped. It went off before the moon and gave it the bad suck. Lots of dust and smaller debris was ripped off the surface of Phobos where the bomb went off. It looked like a good quarter of the moon had been power washed by the time the bomb went all supernova and blasted that end of the moon until it looked like something Lucy had started to cook and promptly forgot about. Pretty okay results, all in all. We were up to ten percent, which was a good sign, I figured. "Yo," I said as I answered the call. I made the universal ''I''m on a call'' gesture with thumb and pinkie so that Gros Baton would know that I wasn''t just surrendering. "Ah, Miss Stray Cat?" Doctor Weber said. "Good! It''s a pleasure to speak with you again. I heard that you were currently operating the Big Gun''s... Big Gun, and so I thought it would be a good time for a conference." "Yeah, sure," I said. "Sup? And uh, hi to you too Susan." "Yeah," I said, because what else could I say? "In any case, fire that device. The Teslakollisionsgenerator is warming up now and should be ready for another strike within the hour. This time we''re aiming for the opposite of the usual compaction method." "You''re gonna make the moon uncompact?" I asked. "Like, spread apart?" He laughed. "Exactly! Before the larger wave of drones arrive and risk being battered by the moon''s expansion. Hopefully this will expose the hives within the moon so that they might be eliminated." "Is that even a problem at this point?" I asked. Susan huffed. "Obviously. Though I can see your reasoning in thinking otherwise." "Yeah, lots of reasoning going on here," I said. "But explain it to me anyway." He was silent for a moment, and I think that the language barrier saved me a little. "The antithesis within Phobos is a higher-tier model wrapped around a large hive. Were it to crash on Earth, it would survive." "Damn," I said. "So we want it dead before it gets around, but we''re breaking the whole moon up anyway, so it''s kind of a moot point, no?" "Not quite," Radikal said, and he really sounded like someone who''d earned his doctorate as he ''um actually''d'' me. "The issue with the antithesis currently inhabiting Phobos is that it allows the moon to adapt. The wings we saw earlier, the production of small fliers dedicated to eliminating keiretsu drones, and now there''s evidence of organic cooling systems below the moon''s surface as well as organic reinforcements threaded throughout the structure. According to all of our calculations, Phobos should have been cracked and destroyed by now. The antithesis is holding it together, and more importantly, encouraging the moon to repair itself." "Repair itself?" I asked. "It''s producing a cement-like compound and filling gaps," he said. Ah, well, fuck. "Okay, that does make things more complicated. Will your drones be able to kill it?" "They will do what they can," Susan said. "Alright then. Let me and Gros Baton here load up the next shell, then we''ll see about spreading that moon out like... uh..." I froze. None of the metaphors I could think of when it came to spreading things were PG 13. "Anyway, yeah," I settled on. "Thank you, Stray Cat," Radikal said. "If we do happen to fail, it will comfort me to know that I was at least able to work with such talented people." *** Chapter Fifty-Nine - The Full Stop Does Not Stop Chapter Fifty-Nine - The Full Stop Does Not Stop Chapter Fifty-Nine - The Full Stop Does Not Stop "While we try very hard to keep inflation at a steady rate--because such a steady rate allows for steady, controllable growth across all sectors--we firmly believe that the currency inflationary rates for foodstuffs might be too elevated. 500% yearly increases would mean a very real risk of starvation amongst the workforce, a workforce that we''ve yet to automate. Not to mention, this same workforce makes up a vast majority of our customer base." --Letter from the Union of Corporate Interests of NA, 2042 *** "Here goes nothing," I said as I gently tapped the fire button. My hair stood on end, the room trembled slightly, and the shell was off. At the moment, it was somewhere in the mid-afternoon, and I couldn''t help but feel like that was subtly wrong. We had just fired what might be the final blow. It was meant to be momentous, something big and important, a moment that would go down in the history books... and all I could think about was how I was a little hungry. "Could really go for a snack right about now," I said. "Ouien," the kid said. "J''ai un, uh... catalogue for poutine." "Wait, just poutine, or is it like, a food catalogue?" I asked. He shrugged. "Just that. It was cheaper." Huh. I knew that catalogues were cheaper the more narrow their scope, but I''d never thought to apply that to food, specifically. "Alright. Is it good, at least?" "Eh," he made a so-so gesture. "La petit place au coin d''ma rue en fait une bonne aussi." I squinted and translated that one all on my own. The local place made a good one too. "Well, I''d give it a try, I guess." "Cool! Tiens," he said, and then just like that, a styrofoam bowl with a little plastic cover appeared in his hand. It was warm, and instantly filled the room with a greasy, fatty smell. I took it from him and peeled off the cover revealing... cheese curds, fries, and lots of brownish sauce. Somehow this felt like a step down from the usual Protector food I ordered. Gros Baton handed me a plastic fork, and I shrugged before digging in. It tasted as healthy as it looked. Salty and greasy. The cheese squeaked and the fries crunched. It was pretty good, to be honest, but I just knew this was going straight to the love handles. We watched the progress of the Full Stop on the main monitor while we ate. The little shell was racing ahead right towards Phobos. A smaller status screen showed the Tesla Collider warming up for its next big shot, and the Keiretsu had a small army of drones on a collision course with Phobos as well, all timed to arrive about two minutes after the Collider did its thing. "Oh, it''s gonna impact," I said as I pointed to the screen with my fork. "Mhm," Gros Baton agreed before wiping some gravy from his chin. "Fuck ''em up, tabarnak!" The Tesla Collider stopped, and the steady, neat separation of the moon gave up. Chunks collided into each other, others went tumbling out into empty space. The moon scattered. I might have called it a total destruction, except that Phobos was alive, and it wasn''t happy to be split apart like it had been. Long tendrils reached out, crashed into the bigger parts of the moon, and tethered them in place. It looked like the middle of the moon was a many-tentacled sea-urchin desperate to keep itself together. That thing, to scale, had to be bigger than New Montreal. I wasn''t sure if it was a single model or thousands of them working together, and I was even less sure if the difference mattered at all. The Keiretsu arrived a minute later. A swarm of drones, larger than any of those they''d sent before. They burned hard in the empty void. A thousand candle flames visible in the dark. Retrothrusters? I wasn''t sure and didn''t know enough to guess beyond that. Whatever rockets they used were jettisoned to crash into the semi-disassembled Phobos. Then the drones themselves moved in. It looked like they weren''t doing much at first, except that there were occasional explosions of rock and debris across the inside of Phobos'' expanded shell. Gros Baton did something, I think turning on some sort of thermal vision, and then the lasers those drones were firing became visible. Each was like an angry disco ball, sweeping lines of hot fire through the antithesis meat. Smaller models were launched by the thousands, then by the tens of thousands. They scattered, some flinging themselves across space, others had their own ways of moving through space. Drones started to die, but never without exploding violently on death. I glanced over to the integrity ticker. Thirty four percent. Had we really just taken off a third of Phobos'' mass just like that? "Look," Gros Baton said. I turned my attention back to the screen, poutine entirely forgotten as a swarm was unleashed. There had to be millions of them. Tiny black specs that shot out of Phobos, opened large wings, then farted their way forwards even as they twisted and flapped into a swarm that expanded outwards ahead of the moon. It looked like Phobos was tired of waiting. It was sending its own vanguard our way. "I''m betting that''s not a good thing," I said. "No shit," Gros Baton said. "My AI says we have a day." "Great," I said. "Think they''ll know where we are, specifically, or do you think they''ll just land wherever the fuck they want?" "Yeah, non, I''m not gambling on that one." "Yeah, I figured," I said. Well, it was time to call up the others and let them know that shit was being flung at the fan again. *** Chapter Sixty - Religious Exemption Chapter Sixty - Religious Exemption Chapter Sixty - Religious Exemption "While it isn''t the opinion of this author that removing governmental religious exemptions was one of the leading contributors to the fall of Old America, one must admit that the changes to the laws that gave religious organisations the ability to not pay taxes did coincide with other massive changes in the cultural and economic state of the Western world. However, I posit that the Corporate Tax Exemption--the laws allowing sufficiently large corporate entities to avoid taxation outright--was a far greater harbinger of the end of the Old American way." --Doctor C. Thumbs thesis on the Fall of Old America, 2046 *** "Okay, can everyone hear me?" I asked. "Mhm!" Grasshopper said. "You woke me up for this," Gomorrah replied. "Ah, yes?" came Tanket. "Affirmative," Hedgehog said. "Howdy there," Crackshot said. "We can both hear you here!" Princess said. And I didn''t need to glance over to Gros Baton next to me to know that he could hear me, even if he was still distracted by the last of his poutine. "Okay!" I said. "First, uh, sorry for waking you up or whatever." "I don''t mind," Princess said. I went on right past that. "But yeah, big news! Phobos isn''t out of the race just yet, but it sure as shit ain''t looking good." The monitor showed us the moon in all of its fucked up glory. Honestly, calling it a moon now was a lie. Phobos had given up the pretence of being a lost space rock and was just a fuck-big alien hive now with large chunks of moon being held around it like million-ton shields. Keiretsu drones were swarming around Phobos, and more of them were arriving every twenty minutes or so. Not to say that there weren''t any losses. Space around Phobos was also swarming with aliens. Little fliers zipping around, lumps of twitching alien matter, and a disturbing number of what looked like very organic ''spitting'' guns that were knocking out drones as they flew by. Even as I looked, a small chain of itty-bitty explosions ran across one of the bigger tentacles. They seemed tiny on the monitor, but I imagined that each one of those explosions was big enough to take out a house. We''d given Phobos a brown eye and knocked a few teeth loose, but that fucker was still coming. "Alright, so, time for an update," I said. "Go on, we''re listening," Grasshopper said. "The Tesla Collider went off right after we hit Phobos with a new type of round, and the moon kinda... exploded. Now it''s a big tentacle-y mess. The Keirestsu drones are messing it up as we speak. Since the innards are exposed, that means a lot of damage is being done directly to the hive." "Is it over then?" Gomorrah asked. "Or nearly over?" "I don''t think so. We''ve ripped off a full third of the moon, but that still leaves a neat fuckton of moon behind," I said. "And we''ve got new problems to worry about." "Oh boy," Princess said. "You''ve had longer to think about it," she returned. "And I think we mostly trust your opinion... to a limited degree." "Well thanks for the vote of confidence," I said before I reached up and pinched the bridge of my nose. I had a stress headache coming on. "Look... we''ve been handling Phobos on our own. I mean, for our region, at least. The Big Gun''s done what it needed to. We can keep on shooting at Phobos until it''s right on our doorstep because each shot peels a little more away and helps some. But this attack right on top of us? Yeah, I don''t see why that needs to be our problem alone." "You think we should get outside help?" Crackshot asked. "I''m sure some locals won''t mind helping. Emoscythe would certainly help." "Her, and anyone else that''s willing to help at all," I said. "There are a few others around New Montreal, yeah? Hell, there should be a lot of others around here. We can get some from elsewhere in too. The global incursion is calming down, isn''t it?" "We''ll have to involve the Family," Gomorrah said warningly. "Well, tell them that if they don''t help they''ll have to rebrand themselves into the Orphanage, because there won''t be enough survivors to call themselves a Family of anything," I said. Gomorrah chuckled darkly. "I''ll talk to them, then." "I know just about every samurai that lives around here," Grasshopper said. "I make a point of making contact with as many as I can, in case they need help. I can start sending little ''hellos'' to all of them, just in case." "That''d be nice," I said with a nod. "What else? Maybe... ah fuck, we''re going to need to put out a call on social media for anyone willing to help. And to warn people to keep their heads low for the next couple of days." "Not it," Princess said. "Same," Craskshot said. "Pas moi," Gros Baton added. "I''m not suited for that," Hedgehog said at the same time as Gomorrah said, "No." "Ah..." Tankette said as she was caught out. "I don''t know..." "That leaves Cat," Gomorrah said. I blinked. "No it the fuck does not," I snapped. "Tankette can help you, I''m sure." "Aren''t nuns supposed to be kind and helpful?" I asked. She was quiet for a few seconds. "My religion demands that I abstain from social media?" "No it doesn''t! You bitch!" I snapped. But it was too late, wasn''t it? That stress headache wasn''t going to disappear after all. *** Chapter Sixty-One - Lights! Camera! Bullshit! Chapter Sixty-One - Lights! Camera! Bullshit! Chapter Sixty-One - Lights! Camera! Bullshit! "You should absolutely, under no circumstance, allow someone untrained in Public Relations do any of the talking when any number of cameras are involved." --Politics 101 Textbook, ninety second edition, 2029 *** I couldn''t decide if I was annoyed with the job or not. Why did I land with the ''be the face'' job? I was crass, rude, uneducated, and lazy. I didn''t want to be the one reaching out to others to get them to kick their ass into gear. But no, it had to fall on me. I could have been home right then, wearing nothing but a loose t-shirt, watching shitty reality-TV on a screen with more square feet than some apartments and with Lucy cozying up to me, but nope, the Earth needed saving and it fell on me to get the saviours to get their shit together. Bullshit. "You, uh, okay?" Gros Baton asked as he heard me muttering. "Yeah, yeah," I said with a dismissive wave. "I don''t know how to do social media shit. I mean, I''ve been scrolling since I''ve been old enough to swipe my thumb down, but I don''t know if that qualifies me for making posts, you know?" You could listen to music your whole life, but that didn''t mean you knew jack shit about playing it. Gros Baton didn''t seem to appreciate that distinction much as he just shrugged. "Fais juste de ton mieux. J''pense pas que tu peux vraiment tout fucker c?a." He grinned. "Dans le pire des cas, tire sur un autre maire ou quelque chose du genre. C?a va te remettre a? TV." Just do your best. I doubt you can fuck this up too much. Worse case scenario, shoot another mayor or something. That''ll get you on TV again. "Oh, fuck off," I mumbled. He was probably right, though. "Okay... right. What would work on me?" Would I pay attention to a news broadcast by a samurai? Probably, a little bit, if only because it was fun to see the material that would become memes later when it was still fresh. Shit, my brain really was rotted. Right, what would work beyond that? Just sitting at a table and talking into the camera would come off as honest, but also boring as balls. I needed to keep people''s attention. I sent out two texts, both with the same content¡ªone to Gomorrah, the other to Lucy. Would you be willing to wear a bikini on camera to save the world? I got two "No''s" within seconds of each other. They didn''t even ask for me to elaborate. So that plan was shot. Well, whatever. Hot chicks only worked on... honestly, a majority of the population, but if that failed, I''d need something more impressive. I looked around. We... were standing behind a kilometre long gun that shot into space. That was kinda badass. I nodded, then sent out another pair of texts. This time one was to the group chat, the other directly to Tankette. Hey, I need intimidating people to stand in the background of a video while looking cool. Volunteers? It was small, made of a dark, lacquered wood with thin insets of a lighter wood forming a sort of mandala pattern across the top that looked a bit like a skull if I squinted. The front had a nice, brassy looking clasp. It was, by far, the fanciest samurai order box I''d ever seen. Most of the time it was plastic with maybe a logo printed on, this was on a whole other level. She reached down the front of her dress, then tugged a small metal key out. It was on a long string that wrapped around her neck. I blinked, then tried not to think dirty thoughts as she fit the key into the box''s lock and twisted. The clasp came off with a click, and the top opened of its own volition. Out of it came... a doll. Not quite just a doll. Its ''face'' was a complex array of small cameras and sensors, all black gunmetal, but the rest of it was designed like a small victorian doll. It hovered up to eye level and floated there, staring at me... kind of menacingly. "This is a proper media drone," Emoscythe said. "The kind of thing I used to use when I had my drone phase." "Drone phase?" I asked. "We all have one," she said dismissively. "Its cameras are better than anything you can afford right now, so don''t be shy. And don''t worry, the footage will be downscaled to something appropriate for public consumption. We don''t need people learning about the random soldiers in the background by scanning one of their hairs from afar, do we?" Wait, what kind of resolution would allow for that? "Uh, okay," I said. "Thanks." Emoscythe walked over, then started to fiddle with my outfit. She adjusted my coat, tugged on my scarf a few times, even licked her fingers then ran them through my hair, which was kind of gross, but she was scary enough that I let her. "There," she said as she stepped back. "You could do with some makeup, but you''re never seen with any so it would ruin the illusion." "What do I say?" "Never mind that," she said. "You''re a samurai. As I was once told, our job is to say ''fuck it we ball'' and then do what we think is right. Rehearsal never helped that." She glanced at the drone. "You''re live in three." "What?" "Two." "Wait, serio--" The drone''s eyes lit up, and I froze for a second. Then my well-honed bullshittery reflexes kicked in. "Hey, assholes. Just a friendly head''s up; Earth is about to be blown the fuck up in... t-minus not very long, so listen up." *** SCS Fanfiction Contest Winner: Cassy the Clowns Big Top Bonanza, by FullAutoAlice SCS Fanfiction Contest Winner: Cassy the Clowns Big Top Bonanza, by FullAutoAlice You are questioning my sanity? I¡¯m not the one standing in an incursion zone in a 1-credit flak jacket, holding a microphone. Potato King; Los Angeles Incursion, ground zero. Said to a reporter while he loaded a glowing green potato into his signature homemade PVC cannon. ** ¡°Who throws a pie at a plant monster?¡± Cassandra cried in her head as she ran down the empty halls of the community centre. Her oversized shiny red clown shoes slapping against old, but clean, linoleum. A four legged plant, with whipped cream falling from its face, rounded the corner of the hall not far behind her. Losing its grip on the polished floor it slammed into the wall with a flurry of scrabbling legs and a bang, embedded slightly into the thin drywall. Causing young Cassy to start in surprise, and let out a small squeak of terror. Deciding that racing a killer plant down a long hallway was not on her agenda today. Cassy turned quickly, and almost copied the antithesis, nearly going top over tea kettle. She barely managed to stay mostly upright by hopping on one foot. She booked it for the stairs. "Maybe they are bad at stairs!¡± She hoped in her mind. Cassandra had somehow forgotten about the very large, very awkward, very shiny, apple red shoes adorning her feet. She barely managed to make it down the first dozen steps before one glossy toe hooked on a pleat in her oversized, but amusing, pantaloons. Cassy careened cacophonously down the stairs, clattering off of corners, and generally having a bad time. Her descent was stopped rather abruptly when she encountered something far softer and much squelchier than the concrete stairs and their steel railings. It gave way before her with some very awful splattering and squirting sounds. Cassy found herself battered and a little bruised pressed up against the metal stair railing, covered in a rather unpleasant and sticky mess. It reminded her muddled mind of when she¡¯d brought balloons full of flavoured gelatin to the water fight last summer. She had no desire to taste this goop though, it smelled rather awful, like a pile of week old grass clippings. ¡°Greetings Vanguard! Congratulations on your first kill! My name is Bartholymu. Might I recommend you get moving. The one you pied in the face is still coming¡± Dumbstruck, Cassy just sat there, staring at her painstakingly handmade clown outfit. Days of hunting down the brightest colours of fabric she could find. Hours of learning to sew, and the pricked finger tips to show for it. Now a rumpled and torn mess, covered in plant guts. And she had a voice in her head! Was she was a samurai now? No no no no no. Cassy was a clown. Cassy was going to bring them back into popularity. It had been her life¡¯s goal since she found the archival footage buried in the meshl! The world was in chaos, there was an apocalypse on! People needed laughter, parties, and balloon animals! And whip cream pies thrown at them, and dunk tanks, and joy buzzers, and, and, and... Her mind spiralled trying to make sense of it all, visions of circus tents whirling in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m an entertainer!¡± She cried out in the stairwell. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to bring light and joy! I¡¯m not a crazy Samurai, I¡¯m not a killing machine...¡± She trailed off, a hiccup of a sob was followed by tears forming in the corners of her eyes. ¡°Why not both?¡± her new brain dweller responded. ¡°You should probably get moving if you want to do either one though... pie boy is coming!¡± Sure enough, there it was. Just rounding the corner of the stairs. All but the last drips of whipped cream gone from its strange planty head. Several hours later a trio of armoured SUVs pulled up out front of the community centre. PMC members doing cleanup sweeps of the neighbourhood after the incursion. They pushed open the doors and rapidly formed up in a well disciplined formation to secure the front atrium, expecting the worst, as they usually would find. The sight that greeted their eyes however, had them pausing in shock and confusion. The foyer was a mess, not with bullet holes, or scorch marks, or craters, or the other many signs of an incursion. It was covered in candy coloured chaos, what looked like whipped cream was smeared across the floor, up the walls, and dripping in glops from the ceiling. Whip cream that apparently could dissolve plant tissue. If that¡¯s what the slowly shrinking and sizzling mounds inferred. Smelled a bit like cotton candy. Confetti with razor sharp edges lay scattered about. Mixed with the cream, and embedded in every available surface. The air sparkled with multi-hued glitter. It caught in the back of the commander''s throat. ¡°Masks on,¡± He called out, and the squad in unison donned heavy duty full face gas masks. Moving amongst it all, were two foot tall balloon animals. Cleaning supplies clutched clumsily in soft rubbery limbs. Slowly, and rather awkwardly, doing their best to get the mess strewn on the floor, walls, and ceiling, pushed into a comically large black garbage bag that was making happy chewing sounds, bouncing cheerily all the while. ¡°Um captain?¡± One of the grunts began. ¡°What the actual, sir?¡± Another commented quietly, staring at an object being dragged by a balloon giraffe. ¡°Are those googly eyes on a No. 5s head?¡± The captain held up a hand motioning for silence and pulling out his radio. ¡°Command, do we have reports of any Samurai in the area?¡± His radio began to squawk back at him, but whatever was being said was drowned out by the sounds of honking horns, dinging bells, and clanging symbols. Coming down the hallway was a girl on a bike. She was dressed in oversized clothes of every colour imaginable. Polka dots, stripes, and random shapeless splotches warring for dominance from head to toe. Bright curly red and blue hair shot up in a pair of massive floofy pony tails that bounced behind her. Driving the pedals were a pair of the biggest, brightest, shiniest, apple red clown shoes to ever shine brightly. Her face was plastered in a massive, almost frightening, grin, her sparkling white teeth ringed by bright red paint, her face covered in thick white cake makeup. Her hazel eyes sparkled gleefully in the centre of blue diamonds. The bike was right out of a children''s book. One perhaps written with far too many rhymes, like foxes in boxes. Its paint job, loud and chaotic, an assault on the eyes. It had a swooping curvy metal frame, random doodads and whatsits hanging off of it at every possible place and angle. It was adorned with an array of bright squeezy horns honking, and shiny metal bells dinging. Standing proudly off the front were a trio of cymbals, clanging away to an unknown rhythm. Trailing behind on a curvy hitch was what could only be described as a child''s drawing of a pie throwing machine made real. A rabbit shaped balloon animal sitting in a gunner''s seat at its centre. ¡°Heya boys! What¡¯s shaking? Can I give you a hand?¡± The strange young woman hollered boisterously. Before striding over and vigorously shaking the dumbstruck captain''s hand. She turned around, putting hands to hips and proudly watched her inflatable minions at work. The captain stared mutely at her back. Still holding the fake white gloved hand she left behind. ¡°Samurai...¡± He said softly as his shoulders slumped. ¡°I wonder if any of them are sane.¡± Chapter Sixty-Two - Cat Out of the Bag Chapter Sixty-Two - Cat Out of the Bag Chapter Sixty-Two - Cat Out of the Bag "Holy shit, guys, have you seen this? No no, it''s on the stream, look, some samurai took it over? Another? Oh, fuck, they''re on all the streams, this is big shit! Wait, wait, did she just say that Earth is gonna be destroyed?" --Reaction Andy Dandy, livestream, 2057 *** I swallowed and tried not to let it show when Myalis filled the edges of my vision with the kind of information that the average streamer would die for. Viewership numbers, lists of channels and streams I was on, even a few rapidly-scrolling chats that were moving too quickly for me to read anything. At least I could easily pick out the generic ???? emojis. Another small box showed me what the world was seeing. It was... me. Well, my helmeted face, at least. It was a cool helmet but it was also rather... faceless? There was no expression there. So, to start things off right while the viewership numbers were still climbing so fast that the ticker looked like it might spin itself out of control, I reached up and removed my helmet. The entire time I was aware that the camera was catching sight of the others in the background. Tankette was by her tank, but also by Hedgehog who''d just arrived. She was tugging his uniform back on straighter and had licked her thumb to wipe a smudge off of his face. He seemed rather off put by the whole thing, but wasn''t fighting her off any. From the corner of my eye, I could see Emosythe next to Crackshot. They were both listening as Princess pointed to the Big Gun and gestured at a bunch of things. My helmet came off, and I casually let it fall before running a hand through my hair. It was that fancy new tech hair, which was honestly just cheating. I had always liked having longer hair, but as a one-armed cripple that shit was hard to maintain. Lucy had always helped me get the knots out and brush it down. She liked doing it, and it wasn''t like her own frizzy mop of hair was easily brushable. This tech hair shit? Yeah, it just fell into place, curled just right, bangs where they ought to be and not a knot in sight. It was bullshit and proof that Myalis'' space buddies were also bullshit. No one wearing a helmet for so long should remove it to perfect hair. "Alright," I said as I looked back into the camera. I''d given myself thirty whole seconds to get my thoughts in order and I''d spent none of them actually thinking. Go me. "So, as I was saying... you might have noticed if you''re the sort of dork to stare at the stars, but Mars is fucked. Planet''s been overrun by aliens for a bit." The chat sped up at that, and now the cat emotes were joined by little red circles. "So, buncha top-tier samurai went over to Mars to clear it out, because we can''t have the next nearest planet be covered in shit that needs killing. So far, all good yeah? But then the aliens flung Phobos--that''s one of Mars'' moons--at us." I pointed with a thumb over my shoulder. I waited for a moment. Nothing happened. "Myalis, for fuck''s sake, put Gomorrah''s contact information on the screen." Oh, fine. The information appeared on the screen at about the same time as I got a text from Gomorrah. It was two words, one of which was very un-nun-like. I chuckled to myself, then stopped when I realized that probably made me look like a creep. "Anyway. World''s fucked, but we''re working on it, so give us a few and don''t lose your shit. I mean, in the worst case scenario we fail and then you won''t have to worry about anything anymore, right?" The Big Gun started to hum behind me, and I paused, not looking its way as the gun fired. All along the edges of the gun, steam came spitting out of the vents built into the sides of the barrel and there was a crack-thoom that made my hair stand on end. I nodded. "Yeah, anyway, Stray Cat, out. Good luck out there." I saluted, then ended the video. The total viewership was in the mid two-digit millions. I took a breath, and when I let it out it was a little shaky. Fuck, that was bigger than the entire population of New Montreal. And I just knew that more people would be watching recordings of that whole thing after. "You okay?" Gros Baton asked. "Yeah, I''m fine," I said. I shook my head to clear it, then reopened those pictures that Lucy had sent me. She had to know they were arriving mid-stream, right? Unless she''d been distracted and didn''t know. Either way, I felt like I ought to go see her about now... before the adrenaline wore off... and before she changed out of that. I deserved some amount of stress relief, as a treat, right? Of course, Gomorrah chose that moment to call me, and it was clearly a group chat meant for all of us. I groaned. Maybe we could just let the world end, then no one would ever have to deal with team meetings ever again. *** Interlude - Stay At Home PR Manage/GF Interlude - Stay At Home PR Manage/GF Interlude - Stay At Home PR Manage/GF "Wow, there are a lot of haters out there," Lucy said. She shifted, reaching down to rub at her calf where it was a little itchy. The motion caught the eye of the other person in the room who looked, then immediately snapped her attention away. "Are they saying anything about Delilah?" Lucy grinned. It was just her and Franny in her and Cat''s bedroom. Fortunately the room was massive, and they''d snuck a couch in next to the kid''s pool in the corner with a good view of a big-screen TV Lucy had acquired with her discretionary funds. Those funds came from her efforts to fundraise and raise money for the Burlington branch of the Kittens, who were actually doing very well. She was slowly allowing the group to expand into New Montreal. That meant appointing managers--of a sort--and arranging both online and IRL meetups and discussion groups. It was fun busy work, and it was giving her a pretty nice chest of spending money. A lot of corporations were willing to throw money at the cause. Lucy suspected that it was because they thought it would get them in Catherine''s good graces. She accepted the money and promptly forgot everything about those giving it to her. Morons. "You wanna see if people are talking shit about your girl too?" Lucy asked. Franny frowned. "No," she lied. Lucy smiled, all teeth. Their nun friends might have had a posh education in their little nun-house, but they lacked some vital skills, like how to lie or properly hide their feelings. "Don''t worry, they''re not being too mean. I saw her name pop up here and there, but not too much. I think people just associate her with Cat." "I suppose. They are samurai partners," Franny said. She shifted in her seat. It was a simple single-person seat with a few plump cushions on it. Franny sat on it as if it was a pew while she worked hard not to look Lucy''s way. If Lucy were a more vindictive, evil woman, she''d flaunt her stuff some more, but there was only so much teasing she could do before even she started to feel bad. "Might you please consider putting something on?" Franny asked. "Oh, fine," Lucy said. She was getting a little cold. And while being all chilled and perky was fun for sending pics to Cat, it was less than comfortable after a while. She padded across the room and plucked a clean-enough shirt off the floor. It was her old Cat''s Got My Tongue shirt. One of her favourites. She pulled it on, then returned to the couch, but not before grabbing a blanket from the foot of the bed to wrap herself in. "Omph," she said as she flopped onto the couch. "Okay, did I miss anything?" "In the thirty seconds it took you to cross the room?" Franny asked. "Hey, this is the internet, shit moves fast." Lucy blinked, and with a small gesture she brought up a dozen screens across her vision. Without a Myalis to cheat for her, she had to arrange things on her own. She''d gotten a few programs to help sort and moderate chats, and now she was using those to pause the live feeds to catch a glimpse of what people had said. It was thankless work, of course, so she didn''t plan on doing any more than the bare minimum. Honestly though, she didn''t expect that reading even a thousandth of what had been said would be necessary. She was in the middle of said work (after teasing Cat with those bikini pics of course) when Franny showed up to help handle the media side of things. There wasn''t really much they could actively do, but keeping abreast of people''s opinions might be valuable moving forwards. Lucy needed to know which memes to capitalise on for maximum success. [User: Alia, Anxiety Prone] THE ALIENS ARE COMING! ???????????? [User: WakiestWombat] Can a cow fit into the railgun? Cows a % of c please! [User: Freija] Why does Stray Cat have perfect hair? AAAAAA [User: TwiTwiTwi] #SpaceHair [User: OneOfTheSols] Lmao, gay One railgun Vs. One Angy moon? "Hmm, yup, the people on the internet are all weirdos," Lucy said. "That''s not very kind to say," Franny replied. Lucy scrolled up a little. "This one here wants to eat Cat''s hair... and this other one wants to lick her toes. Even I don''t want to do that, and I''ve definitely licked her before." "Ah," Franny said. "I think I''ve just started to naturally filter those kinds of replies out." "Like ads," Lucy said. "Exactly," Franny replied. "Just get so used to them that you barely perceive them at all. I don''t know if that''s healthy or not, to be honest." "Oh, definitely not," Lucy said with a sardonic laugh. "But whatever. Overall, it looks pretty positive?" She moved her arm across the air before her a few times, resorting her various feeds. She had no idea how Cat had managed to be on so many sites at once. At least, initially. Back when Catherine had murdered the mayor, the news was only carried by a few local news channels, but then it had been picked up by a bunch of bigger ones, meme sites, and aggregators before finally the react streamers got in on it and spread it even further out. This though? This was being streamed on every major steaming platform, right at the top of their pages, it interrupted live news broadcasts too. Lucy initially expected people to comment on it. It was rather funny to see newscasters jump and try to handle the screens behind them switch out to Cat''s stream, especially with her opening. The AI newscasters were a lot more confused, some of them still looping through the story they''d been covering before. The stream had also shown up on TV, but Lucy didn''t know anyone who actually watched TV anymore, so it was kind of just a weird footnote. Her sorting ended with roughly four piles. At the top left, the most ignorable streams and older forums. The reactions there were muted, though a few of the more scienc-y bunch were going on and on about the Big Gun and its implications. That''s also where she shoved the political echo-chambers. They were already working to try and spin the whole thing against each other, but their memes had stopped being funny thirty years ago. In the top right, she placed the celebrity stuff. Media aggregators and influencer dumps, as well as all the hangouts for the big paparazzi chains. The chats there were split between gushing at the samurai that showed up in the background, speculating about Cat''s lovelife, and yapping about hair, clothes, and possible new fashion trends. The bottom left was for the people freaking out about the end of the world. It was a small chunk of the overall number, and yet she couldn''t decide if that was a disturbing fact or if it being the largest chunk would make it worse. Finally, the bottom right of her vision was filled with reaction Andies. Streamers and quick-media platforms that usually specialised in small, high-dopamine content. They were in it for the spectacle. It was also the corner where Lucy started to sort through the most memes. The meme trends were wild at the moment because Cat had unwisely fed them all with so much to work with. "T-Minus Not Very Long" was doing great on some of the more wargamer-ish sites and was on T-shirts already. People were talking about a huge jump in tech-hair prices, and images of Cat''s cute blush were all over. She''d hate that. But memes made the world go round, and memes pushing things from the mainstream core of the internet and deeper into the mesh, where the permanently-online sequestered themselves. Memes were like... rain, Lucy imagined. No matter how deep someone was in the underbelly of things, they always found a way to leak through the ceiling and leave mould on the walls. Or something like that. She''d workshop the analogy some more. "Hey, are you hungry?" she asked. "Me? I suppose," Franny said. "Cool! You can help me cook something up for Cat, I need to talk to her, and food distracts her better than anything else. Plus I want to give the rule thirty-four artists some time to cook." Franny sighed. "Of course you do." *** Chapter Sixty-Three - Cat Called Chapter Sixty-Three - Cat Called Chapter Sixty-Three - Cat Called "The history of telemarketing stretches all the way back to the early days of the Bell telephone, where only the eccentric and rich could afford a phone of their own and therefor they made for great targets for sales pitches and cold calls. As history progressed, the phone became an ubiquitous part of human society. It''s no surprise that ads vectored in throught that medium continue to be popular to this day." --On Advertising, 2nd ed. 2049 *** Gomorrah was not happy with me. I could tell, because she very pointedly removed her facemask so that I could get an unobstructed view of her glare. Also, the first thing she said when she arrived was "I''m not happy with you." "Did you get a lot of calls?" I asked. "I had to get an answering machine catalogue," Gomorrah said. "Your little prank has cost me fifty points." "Oops?" I said. I wasn''t actually remorseful, but I could pretend to be guilty like the best of them. "But hey, some of those calls are good, right?" She sighed, but nodded. It had been a couple of hours since my broadcast. Most of us here were just chilling around the Big Gun, cheering whenever it went off and taking in the occasional update from Gros Baton about the progress around Phobos. Things were actually looking up on that front. Phobos had been fucked up pretty hard, and it wasn''t being allowed to recover at all. The constant swarm of drones were leaving their mark. Death by ten million cuts was still death, and we were helping by ramming the moon with the occasional miniature black hole or web of monofilament. The points we were earning helped too, though it wasn''t all that much all things considered. A nice, steady trickle every fifty-odd minutes. I''d seen some images of the moon. It was fully split now, and some of the bigger chunks didn''t even have tentacles keeping them together. Keiretsu drones with large thrusters were pushing the bits apart. It looked like they were moving at a snail''s pace, but that didn''t matter. It would be enough for those chunks to miss Earth entirely. A one degree change so far out meant a whole lot to us down here. The next use of the Teslacollider would probably be the finishing blow. We''d crush what was left of Phobos, and then all that would remain was the clean-up. So, in a way, we''d won. Woo. Hurrah. All that jazz. Actually, sarcasm aside, the mood was pretty upbeat. Princess and Knight were prattling along to Emoscythe. Tankette was taking care of a food tent nearby, wielding a ladle like a king might a sceptre. Crackshot and Hedgehog were close to the entrance of the Big Gun''s control room, close enough for Gros Baton to join in on their conversation. I had listened in for a bit, and... it was really disgusting the kinds of things guys would start talking about when there wasn''t a woman around. Not that I would start flinging stones from my glass house or anything. "We don''t have a lot of samurai," she said. "Oh," I said. Right, this was all-hands on deck in a big way. Then the map updated and I noticed the triangles getting very slightly smaller, and some icons already hovering over their designated locations were being asked to move inwards. "Did we just get more?" I asked. "This is with the current crop of volunteers," Gomorrah said. "And then, only those that are explicitly working with the Family. I''m, or rather Atyacus, is working to keep in contact with those that called me directly who aren''t affiliated and who don''t want to be. That''s only a dozen or so samurai, so far." "Makes sense. I''d be more willing to call someone directly than deal with a corp I don''t trust in their shoes." "Yes, it turns out that your fumbling around actually had some benefits." "As planned," I said. Gomorrah crossed her arms. "No. Not as planned. I refuse to believe that. In fact, I know otherwise. If anything, this is me looking very hard for a silver lining to your goofing up." I laughed. "Sorry," I said. "So, are we stationed right here?" "This is where it might be worse," Gomorrah said. "And where we''ll make the most points for defending," I said. "And where we literally have an army and no one civilian-like around for kilometres. We can afford to go all out." "And we''ll need to," Gomorra said. "What have you prepared so far?" "Uh," I said. Her eyes narrowed. "You have spent the last two hours or so preparing, right, Catherine?" "How upset would you be if I did nothing but fuck around and chat instead?" I asked. "Not upset. Disappointed." "Ah," I said. "Well, that''s no fun. But it''s also the truth, so at least you know that I''m honest with you?" "You''re nothing but a pest, Catherine," she said. "We need AA set up, and soon. I''m thinking several larger guns. We need the ability to strike at small, distant targets. These enemies will have come through the atmosphere, so they''ll either be weakened, or they''re so tough that it didn''t slow them down and that''ll mean a whole other level of problem." I nodded. She was right, we were dealing with mid-twenties enemies here, probably. These weren''t model ones with a few burnt up feathers. They''d be genuine threats. "I''m sure we can get something going that''ll give them all a proper Earthly welcome." She nodded. "Good. Then we need to get ready to deal with those that survived the landing and any hives they might awaken on the way down." "We''re not finishing this tonight, are we?" *** Chapter Sixty-Four - Anti-Antithesis-Anti-Air Chapter Sixty-Four - Anti-Antithesis-Anti-Air Chapter Sixty-Four - Anti-Antithesis-Anti-Air "Orbital defences aren''t an option anymore. They''re a necessity. I understand that there are political frictions involved with planting weapons past low Earth orbit, but for the safety and security of our nation and people, we must prepare to receive the alien threat as far from land as possible, and that means installations in outer space!" --General Whitacker to the US Congress, 2023 *** "Hey, boss, what''s the plan?" Gros Baton asked, leaning lazily against the doorframe of the Big Gun''s command room. His call had caught the attention of the others. I looked around. We were all here, it seemed, with one extra, even in the form of Emoscythe. Tankette was still making her way over while wiping her hands on a small tank-patterned towelette. She was close enough to hear, though. A quick check of my augs showed me that we were a few minutes shy of six in the evening. When had the time flown? Also, had I skipped lunch? I couldn''t remember if I''d eaten anything since that poutine earlier, and that was like, overnight. Right, people were expecting shit from me, and I couldn''t just sit here and bitch about being hungry, even if I really wanted to. "Alright boys, girls and Grasshopper," I said. Grasshopper giggled, so I figured that one had landed. "We''ve got more news, which sucks because I''m tired of this constant cycle of having to deliver news, then something weird happening, then having to deliver more news again right after. It''s a boring circle. Fortunately, the boring circle will be busted up soon. The Family has their panties all knotted up, but I think they''re getting their shit together too. They''re laying out a grid of samurai to keep an eye on the skies and knock the aliens down." "A grid?" Hedgehog asked. "What kind, and what are our numbers?" I checked the thing Gomorrah had sent me. "We''re up to a hundred and forty-eight samurai volunteering, which is pretty decent. The spacing is... awful. We''re covering the entire hemisphere, which means a lot of space between points on the grid. The bigger cities mostly have locals staying in them to keep them safe, and they usually have their own AA so there''s that." "There are hardly all that many cities in this hemisphere," Crackshot said. "I reckon NM''s the biggest here, then Quebec to the east and a few more south of us, but the north is wide open. The west has some pretty big gaps too." "It''s a problem, yeah," I agreed. "The nice thing is that no one sane lives in the north, so fuck it. If the aliens crash there, that''s on them. They can eat snow or whatever." "They''ll need to be taken care of," Grasshopper said. "Just because a problem isn''t right in front of you doesn''t mean that it doesn''t exist. The antithesis will have to be dealt with, even if they''re not landing right on top of us." "Well, that''s where we''re lucky," I said. "Because they definitely are landing right on top of us. Got the projections from our German pals. They did the maths and we''re right smack-dab in the centre of the shitshow, and it''s probably safe to say that this is where most of the aliens will be coming. We have almost a day before it''s raining plants." "So what''s the plan?" Gros Baton asked. He pointedly looked up to the sky, where it was a bit overcast. "Tire le ciel?" "Okay, so we''re going to have to shoot them down, then probably deal with a local surge or something?" I asked. "That sounds accurate," Gomorrah said. "Since we have time to prepare for it, we might be able to gain additional support from New Montreal to defend this area." "More troops?" I asked. She nodded. "And artillery. We''re within range of the bigger pieces in the city, and well within range of any of the missile launch systems." "Right," I said. "So primary focus is anti-air to knock the fuckers out, and then ground defences second?" That seemed reasonable enough. The discussion turned towards just how much air defence we wanted. We''d all been earning a fair few points, and this next fight would earn us a few more, but the pool wasn''t infinite. In the end, Hedgehog and Emoscythe ended up being the ones leading that discussion. They both had more experience than the rest of us, one in military matters, the other with direct combat experience against the antithesis. The plan was simple. Fill the air with so much high-velocity lead that we wouldn''t even be able to see the plants before they came crashing down. Missiles were okay too. Soon enough, we were all buying up some AA for ourselves. There were plenty of catalogues that had something capable of shooting into the air, and for those that didn''t have the inclination, we were all up to sharing. Tankette bought a large rack that fit onto her tankette, then she got a set of multi-barreled guns on a turret that hovered on top of that. Princess and Crackshot combined some of their catalogues into a sort of... very pretty boxy building with a single barrel sticking out of the top. Grasshopper and Emoscythe both got their own small buildings, towers that were very much opposites. Squat and rounded for Grasshopper, with a sort of boffer gun atop it, and tall and angular and dark for Emoscythe. I was pretty sure that Emoscythe had done that on purpose, tailoring her design to... uncompliment Grasshopper''s so much that it wrapped around to matching. Gomorrah just bought a large missile launching system. She said it was like a HIMARS and I pretended that I knew what that meant. Gros baton supplied a heap of ammo for the rather plain-looking installation that Hedgehog bought and dropped by the command centre of the Big Gun. The others spread their things out a fair bit, placing them around the Big Gun but not all clumped together. It left me with a spot of my own... which I now had to figure out how to fill. *** Chapter Sixty-Five - Skys the Limit, But I Can Reach Chapter Sixty-Five - Sky''s the Limit, But I Can Reach Chapter Sixty-Five - Sky''s the Limit, But I Can Reach "Wow. Insurance is such a scam." --Lord Burninator, a his criminal trial for Mass Arson, 2032 *** "So, what''re my options when it comes to AA?" I asked. Presuming from context that you mean Anti-Air and not Alcoholics Anonymous, or automotive insurance, then we do have quite a few options. In fact, you have options for all three. "Wait, all three?" I asked. I was off on my own, feeling a little awkward for being away from all the others, but it wasn''t all that bad. I''d be rejoining them in a minute or five. Indeed. Technically, as a vanguard, you could subscribe to any number of insurance services. The companies offering them make the information about their low premium Samurai tier policies as easy to find as possible. As for the alcohol, I have substances that are so addictive that you''d never have time to be addicted to alcohol to begin with. "You are far less reassuring than you ought to be sometimes," I said. I find it amusing. "You think you''re so cute," I muttered. I''m adorable. Now, shall we talk anti-air options? You have fifty-one thousand, one hundred and seventeen points at the moment, which is a very respectable amount of buying power. I glanced over to the others. They were mostly crowded around Tankette''s updated tank with a few further out. Crackshot and Emoscythe were sitting in a rather nice wrought-iron bench that had definitely not been there minutes ago. "That''s... a lot of points. Shit, I''m close to the big leagues, aren''t I?" No. You''re still some ways away from that. However, you certainly are edging your way out of the more beginner tiers. Now, what kind of budget are you looking at? I rubbed my chin for a moment, then nodded. "I think two thousand or so? I know I have a lot more I could splurge here, but that doesn''t feel right for a one-and-done kind of event. I''ll want something that I can move back to our home and slap onto the roof. So it needs to look pretty intimidating? As for weapon-types... maybe something that fires larger rounds so that I can load it full of explosives?" That''s a clever idea. How about a Mark Six Heavenly Striking Tiger Automated Anti-Air Platform? It would come up to a thousand nine hundred and fifty points. A few shy of your stated limit. The system is autonomous, with very competent long-ranged tracking capabilities, and it''s designed to fire 30mm shells. Those were some chunky bullets. "Will they go far enough?" I asked. "Ideally we can hit them while they''re still, like, nearly in space?" It was pretty big, the size of an old school SUV, with four long barrels covered in metal shrouds sticking out of the business end of it. Of course, all four shrouds were shaped like pouncing tigers, with the barrels sticking out of their mouths, and the boxy remainder of the gun had my familiar neon cat logo slapped onto the sides. There was a space in the rear that someone could easily walk into, with access to several ammo hoppers that were currently filled with 30mm shells with cases longer than my forearm. The turret spun around, then aimed straight up, the moment so quick and sudden that I jumped in surprise. "Looks good," I said. "If a bit gaudy. What''s up with the name? It sounds like some Chinese web novel''s protagonist." "You''ve read a novel?" Hedgehog asked. "I mean, I''ve seen ads," I said with a shrug. The name fits the naming rules. "What naming rules?" I asked. The ones I made up. I narrowed my eyes at nothing in particular. I could almost feel Myalis laughing in the back of my mind. "For someone so smart, your sense of humour is weak." She didn''t rise to that bait and left me stewing in silence with my new super AA gun. Tilting my head back, I looked up and into the sky. It was a little overcast, but it seemed as though the clouds were lifting in a few spots, enough to see the sky, at least. It was just dark enough to make out some stars past the incredible light pollution put out by New Montreal. No aliens, though. Not that I''d probably be able to see them until they hit our atmosphere. Still, it was strangely unnerving to look up, feel so tiny, and yet know that death might be raining down on me at any moment. I shook my head and pushed those thoughts away before turning around and marching off to meet the others. We''d chat a little more, then I wanted to head back home for the night. The world might end tomorrow, but that didn''t mean I couldn''t spend today with Lucy and the kittens. Besides, I was learning not to hinge too much on ''mights.'' I was a samurai; defeating the odds with superior firepower was what I was meant to do. *** Chapter Sixty-Six - Points Are Precious, But Explosions Are Priceless Chapter Sixty-Six - Points Are Precious, But Explosions Are Priceless Chapter Sixty-Six - Points Are Precious, But Explosions Are Priceless "The HIMAR system, or the High Mobility Artillery Rocket system, is a weapon''s platform designed to carry mid to long ranged rockets onto and out of the battlefield so as to be able to assault an enemy position from a tactically advantageous angle without pre-existing defensive infrastructure. While the HIMAR system proved its worth in the early 2000s across several theatres, its real accomplishments were during the early 2020s incursions where undefended areas were made the target of saturation bombardment by HIMAR systems in order to eradicate Antithesis threats." --History of the HIMAR, 2031 *** "That''s not enough gun?" I asked. "Obviously not," Gomorrah said. She had her hands on her hips and was looking about as amused as usual. She was also standing next to my... what was it called again? The Mark Six Heavenly Striking Tiger Automated Anti-Air Platform? "What''s the rate of fire on this thing?" "A lot?" I tried. It had four barrels. That was four times more gun per gun. Gomorrah just rolled her eyes. "Atyacus says that it fires two hundred and forty rounds a minute. That''s a decent number, but it''s nowhere near enough to counter the sheer volume of antithesis we''re going to be dealing with, especially as some of them will take multiple strikes to take out." "Ah," I said. "So what, I need an even bigger gun?" "Or more of them," Gomorrah said. "I bought six HIMARs. One will stay here, another is heading to New Montreal, and the other four are going in every cardinal direction to provide a wider umbrella of fire. They''re each loaded with sixty precision rockets each." "That feels low," I said. She shrugged. "They''re reloadable. I''ll be sending a truck-bed full of extras with each. My point is that we, and by extension Grasshopper and Emoscythe, can''t afford to be cheap here, Catherine." Oof, she was using my whole name, which meant she was being serious. "I''m assuming it''s because we''re the big guys around here?" Gomorrah finally removed her hands from her hips. "Essentially. We''re the highest tier''d samurai in the area. Grasshopper and Emoscythe notwithstanding, but neither of them are built for combat exclusively." I assumed she meant ''built'' in the sense that they weren''t exclusively focusing most of their points-earned into combat-related stuff. Grasshopper, I knew, poured a lot into education and information and even some into infrastructure. Emoscythe did fashion and mass media misinformation and propaganda stuff. They weren''t combat-specialists the way that Gom and I had somehow managed to become. The newbies were... well, they were doing their own things. Gros Baton didn''t seem to have picked any specific path yet. Hedgehog was definitely heading in a ''combat'' kind of direction. I suspected the same for Tankette, though she felt more like a support and logistics kind of person. Princess and Knight... actually, I had no clue for them either. Crackshot was probably going to keep up his current ''kill things dead from afar'' shtick. Yeah, looking over at the newbies, it was clear that they were still scrounging things together. The Big Gun had given them all a massive boost, though. "Okay," I said. "That''s fair. Let me chat with the Major. I''ll see about buying a few more of these guns that we can slap around." Gomorrah nodded. "Do you want me to buy you some trucks for them?" "Are they expensive?" I asked. Major Tinwhisle frowned a bit. "I can help with the installation and the transportation as well." "Gomorrah said she''d get me some cheap trucks to move them around," I said. "Anyway, I''m sensing a but?" "My boys are engineers. Not guards. We''re all armed well enough, and we''ve got some stationary weapons sitting around that we can lay down in a pinch, but we''re not the ones you''ll want guarding your machines. I''ll pop a question over to the Lieutenant." "Think he''ll be okay with lending us some guys?" I asked. "Oh, of course he will. The army being seen so close to this many samurai is a PR miracle. The brass are losing their shit right now. I''ll bet you that recruitment numbers double in the next six to nine months. Especially if we can get footage of our people in green fighting next to you lot." Fair enough. Some hot military-types fighting the aliens next to a few samurai always looked great. Slap on some phonk and after effects and young men and women across the country would race to sign their lives away. I looked back and noticed a small row of five extremely nondescript trucks parked not too far from my platform. "Cool! I''ll buy the guns. Just have them set up before nightfall, yeah?" "Can do, ma''am!" Major Tinwhistle said. She was out and shouting orders a split second later. I walked back to the trucks, checked to see if they had room on the back, then chatted with Myalis for a moment. A few seconds after we came to an agreement, there were five distinct thunks and the trucks settled down a little. New Purchase: Mark Six Heavenly Striking Tiger Automated Anti-Air Platform (x5) Points Reduced To: 38,217 "Alright," I said. "And now... cats and ammo." The cats were cheap enough. A semi-decent drone was a hundred point investment. I needed ten, which did sting a little, but I swallowed my cheapness and made the purchase. New Purchase: Personal Use, Security Systems, Model Y (x10) Points Reduced To: 37,217 And then, while the boxes were still appearing and the mechanised cats were still climbing out of them, I checked on the next set of purchases. About three thousand points worth of ammunition, split between high-velocity armour penetrating sabots and timed-explosive flak rounds. New Purchase: 30mm Anti-Air Ammunition - Various Points Reduced To: 34,217 That stung a little too, but it left me with several dozen large boxes, the sort that would require two strong guys to lift, filled with pointy-tipped shells with my grinning cat logo stamped onto their sides. If all of this wasn''t enough to give the aliens a warm welcome, then nothing would be. *** SCS Halloween Special SCS Halloween Special "Alright, you little shits. Line up!" I snapped. The little shits did not line up, because they were little shits, and you didn''t earn such an illustrious title by listening to people when they gave you instructions. I worked my jaw and narrowed my eyes at the lot of them. "Last one in line I get to pick their costume." That snapped them to attention. It was always about the stick and the stick. If they misbehaved, you whacked them with a stick. And if they did good, you''d give them a stick to whack others with. Carrots were for losers. The plan for the day was easy. Actually, it wasn''t so different than the usual plan. Every year, on Halloween, we''d head out and canvas the nicer mega-buildings. Most of those had these events. Corps would ''give out'' candies for the low-low price of filling out surveys and signing waivers, and there were a few shows and the like on as well. For whatever reason, some people liked handing out treats and stuff. Some of the nicer, more upper middleclass mega-buildings would allow people to decorate their apartment doors. You could knock on those and do the old traditional trick-or-treat thing. I found it kind of stupid, but it was also free food. It was one of the few nights in the year where being a poor shit wasn''t all that bad, because people were bleeding hearts and orphans often got an extra handful of candy. At the end of the night we always sorted it. Stuff that''d last a while, stuff that needed eating sooner, and then drugs and other crap that had been snuck in. The last we used to resell, because it was basically free credits. This year would be different, though. Nose stepped up first, having shoved Bargain back behind the Twins. He turned my way, sniffed, then rubbed the back of his hand across his upper lip. "Alright," I said. "What do you wanna be?" Nose grinned. A year ago he''d be grinning with a gob of snot poking out of his nose, but we''d fixed that. Still left him with a few ticks, and that name. "I wanna be snot." "Snot," I repeated. "Like... a large heap of snot?" "With cat ears," he clarified. "That''s stupid," I said. "You said we could be whatever," he said. I crossed my arms. "I said that assuming you wouldn''t want to be something dumb." Nose pouted at me, and I rolled my eyes. "Okay, fine." New Purchase: Cat-eared gob of snot costume A box appeared next to us, and Nose cheered before scooping it up and running off. He started to change into it right then and there and... yeah, he quickly turned into a large gob of snot... with cat ears that bore a striking and disturbing similarity to my own. "Alright, next," I said. The Twins stepped up next. They were fighting, which is just what they did, but they also shared a look before locking eyes with me. "Princess," one of them said. "Knight," the other said over their twin. I narrowed my eyes at the two. "Like, as in the samurais Princess and Knight? Or like, a generic princess and knight?" "The samurai," the said at the same time. It was creepy as shit when they did that. "Okay. Princess would probably love having people dress like her." Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. New Purchase: Princess costume New Purchase: Knight costume "There you go," I said as two boxed appeared before me. They were quick to snap them up and run off to get changed... and then the started arguing over which one of them would be wearing what. I didn''t get involved. The Twins would argue over anything for any reason. "Who''s next?" The answer was obvious as Bargain stepped up. He narrowed his eyes. "When you say any costume, what are the limits?" "Burff," Catkiller barked. He was giving me a look. That dog never liked me, and it was mutual. New Purchase: Sexy nurse costume New Purchase: Sexy Witch costume New Purchase: Bunny costume I blinked as three boxes appeared. The last was smaller, but it had a dog bone on the cover. We all stared at it for a moment, then looked to Catkiller. "IS that for him?" Junior asked. "I guess?" I said before I opened the box. There was a sort of plastic band in it, with a tie around the bottom, and two long, floppy bunny ears. "Myalis, do you speak dog?" I asked. Catherine, I know more languages than you know words. Well, whatever. I wasn''t going to investigate that further, for the sake of my own sanity. I leaned over and called out across the living room. "Daniel, you want a costume?" "Is there a costume that would let me stay home and not have to go out?" he asked. "No." "Then no, I''m good," he said. Yeah, that''s what I thought. That actually only left one person... Lucy sauntered into the room, taking note of all the kittens getting dressed up or showing off their choices. Spark''s costume let out little electrical jolts and Tim''s really did look like it was on fire. "And what about you?" I asked. "Do you want a costume?" Lucy smiled, and I felt my heart skipping a beat. Damnit. "Oh? Maybe I want to dress up as my hero?" "Your hero, huh?" I asked. "Mhm," she said as she came closer, close enough that she was pressing into me. "My big damned hero." "I swear if this is a bait-and-switch and you say something like Gomorrah, I''ll be so annoyed," I said. Lucy giggled. "Aww! You know me too well! But I was gonna say Emoscythe." "Really?" "Goth is hot." Fair. "How about something we''ll both enjoy, then?" Lucy asked. "How about... Sexy Stray Cat?" New Purchase: Sexy Stray Cat Costume The box was very small. "Do you want to help me... put this on?" Lucy asked. "I think I''d like that," I said. The trick or treating could wait a couple of minutes, right? *** Chapter Sixty-Seven - The Quiche of Commitment Chapter Sixty-Seven - The Quiche of Commitment Chapter Sixty-Seven - The Quiche of Commitment "Quantum Quiche: A Synth-Cuisine Delight Ingredients: 1 Quantum Crust (1 pack) (Patented multi-grain blend, infused with omega-3 nanobots for optimal crunch) 2 Cups Bio-Enhanced Egg Substitute (From SynthFarmTM: High-protein, low-cholesterol formula for the health-conscious consumer) 1 Cup Neon Cheese Shreds (Vegan, dairy-free, and bursting with flavor synthesized from the finest algae) 1 Cup Mutant Greens (spinach, kale, or a mix) (Genetically modified for maximum nutrient density; no antithesis byproducts) 1/2 Cup Cyber Seasoning Blend (A proprietary mix of salt, pepper, and spice; guaranteed to elevate your taste experience) 1/2 Cup Holo-Vegan Cream (Plant-based and shelf-stable; perfect for a creamy texture without the guilt) Instructions: 1. Prepare the Quantum Crust: Preheat your pre-programmed oven to 375¡ãF (190¡ãC). Unwrap your Quantum Crust and lay it in a 9-inch pie dish. Prick the bottom with a fork (for optimal heat circulation) and pre-bake for 10 minutes. 2. Craft the Filling: In a large mixing bowl, combine the Bio-Enhanced Egg Substitute and Holo-Vegan Cream. Whisk vigorously until the mixture achieves a perfect vortex of creaminess. 3. Add the Neon Cheese and Mutant Greens: Fold in the Neon Cheese Shreds and your choice of Mutant Greens. Sprinkle in the Cyber Seasoning Blend to taste. This is where flavour meets the future! 4. Assemble the Quiche: Pour the filling into the pre-baked Quantum Crust. Use a silicon spatula to ensure an even spread¡ªprecision is key. 5. Bake to Perfection: Place the quiche in your trusty oven and bake for 35-40 minutes, or until the centre is set and the top has that golden glow of a neon skyline. 6. Cool and Serve: Allow your Quantum Quiche to cool for 10 minutes before slicing. Serve it warm, or chill it in your fridge for a refreshing cyber-snack." "Yeah. Gomorrah showed me this map from the Family. They''re spreading everyone out. There''s like, almost two hundred samurai that mobilized." "That''s a lot of samurai," Lucy said. "Like, legitimately a lot of them. I don''t think two hundred samurai show up to most small incursions." "Eh," I said with a shrug. "I think more show up than you''d think. It''s just that a lot of them aren''t... celebrity samurai? More discreet sorts, you know?" "I suppose," Lucy said. "You''re more of an expert there than I am." I shrugged half-heartedly. "Myalis, is two hundred samurai a lot?" It is a rather large number. The most vanguard that ever participated in an incursion on Earth--with the exception of large assaults like the Mars project that''s currently ongoing and global incursions, is four hundred and thirty-two during the Second Battle of Zurich in 2051. That was a chunk, holy shit. I didn''t envy whichever poor idiot had to handle the logistics of that. "Four-hundred is a lot," Lucy said. "Guess you''ll have to try harder next time." I stuck my tongue out at her, and she laughed and tried to poke it. "There will be no next time. If Gomorrah, or god-forbid Emoscythe, ever try to put me in front of a camera again, I''m going to do nothing but swear the entire time." "I don''t think that would actually tank your rankings in a meaningful way," Lucy said. "You''re not exactly striking hard in the pre-teen demographic." "My rankings? Oh! That popularity poll thing?" Lucy nodded. "You''re in the top three thousand now, by the way!" Huh, that was... something. Way ahead of where I''d been just a week or two ago. Then again, the mayor thing, and that big broadcast... yeah, that was a lot of my face going around. I shouldn''t have been surprised that I had gained some amount of infamy, but it still felt weird to even think about. "So, how''s it feel to be dating a celebrity?" I asked. "Ohh, can we go to one of those red-carpet things? I want to hang off your arm while wearing something very skimpy," Lucy said. I laughed. "Sure. Maybe after tomorrow, though? I''ve got this feeling that my samurai buddies wouldn''t be impressed if I go to some movie premier instead of helping." "I see and understand your argument, and in my magnanimity, I accept," Lucy said as she tilted her head back and tried to sound snobbish. I relaxed. This was nice. The kittens were mostly ignoring us and making a racket, the TV was on across the room with the volume too high, my breath stank of eggs, and my leg was asleep because of the weird way I was sitting, but it was still nice. "Did I ever tell you that your legs are squishy?" I asked. Lucy snorted. "My legs are not squishy." I shook my head. "Squishy." "No!" "Only good for being used as a pillow," I said. Lucy looked down at me, then reached over and tapped my nose with a finger. "Idiot," she declared. She didn''t shift or kick me off, though, so it was my victory. I closed my eyes as she started to play with my hair again, long fingers rubbing at my scalp. If I could purr, I might have, cat allegations be damned. Tomorrow was going to be a whole ordeal. We''d have to gun down ten thousand aliens and hope that we took out enough of them to keep the chaos in the area to a bare minimum. There were people and orgs in the region that wanted to make a big name for themselves, and I was going to have to be there to keep tempers calm. But tomorrow was tomorrow. Right now, I had a warm Lucy to cuddle and a full stomach, and that felt like enough for the moment. Then Lucy leaned down and started to whisper some ideas into my ear, and I found that my post-food nap mood was set aside. There were other, more fun things I could be up to. *** Chapter Sixty-Eight - Late, Locked, and Loaded Chapter Sixty-Eight - Late, Locked, and Loaded Chapter Sixty-Eight - Late, Locked, and Loaded "Fear isn''t the mind killer. Stress is." --A Corporate''s Guide to the Modern World, second ed. 2035 *** "Is it possible to be bored and stressed at the same time?" I asked the ceiling. Lucy shifted next to me. Her nose pressed up against my arm, it was cold on the end. She pulled herself a little closer, as if she wanted to steal my warmth. "At the same time?" she asked. Her voice was husky and rough from having just woken up. "Yeah," I said. "Is there a word for that?" "I don''t know," Lucy said. She yawned. "Make one up?" "Hmm. Bored and stressed... Bressed?" Lucy sniffed. "Nevermind. Don''t make up a new word." "Did I fail to imbress you?" I asked. Lucy laughed, and that laughter clearly woke her up some. She poked me in the short-ribs. "You are so... you." "Don''t make it sound like an insult," I said. "I''m not," she said before stretching up. She pressed a kiss against my cheek. "I love you... you." I flushed a little, then returned the kiss. "I''m not so bored anymore," I murmured. "Oh-hoh? Horny and stressed... Hressed? Horssed?" "Let''s not," I said with a laugh. I snaked an arm around so that I was holding Lucy closer, even if I knew that would lead to the entire arm falling asleep sooner rather than later. "I have to go in a bit." "In a bit isn''t right now, though," Lucy said. "That''s true," I said. I cuddled in a little closer. "Later, then." "When do you have to go?" Lucy asked. "We still have some time, right?" Within the defences was a full-fledged army base. The temporary sort, with tents and mobile homes, but still a full-on base. We had to have a thousand or so soldiers here now. The Big Gun itself was off to one side, the camp spread out around it but still giving it plenty of space. Unsurprisingly, the more Samurai-ish vehicles were all parked in a row by the base of the gun. I came around and landed my bike next to my mecha. I was barely landed before I saw Gomorrah making her way over. "I should have expected that you''d be late, even today." "Hey now, would you rather I be late, or early and grumpy because I didn''t get enough sleep?" "You should have had plenty of time to get eight hours of sleep and still make it here before noon," she said, rather waspishly. "Well, some of us actually get laid sometimes, so life just has to make space sometimes," I said. She sniffed, then chuckled while shaking her head. "You''re lucky I''m so lenient," she said. "What does that even mean?" I asked as I finally got off my bike. "Is everything ready?" "As ready as we can manage," Gomorrah said. "We had a few more samurai join in at the last minute. People like you who don''t understand the concept of professionalism. Otherwise though, the overall plan hasn''t changed." I nodded. That wasn''t unexpected at all. I checked on that map the Family was keeping up and saw that the total number of samurai joining in was in the low two hundreds. That was a good number. Still spread way the fuck out, but that was fine. It meant a good spread of points for everyone involved and hopefully less risk. "Do we have anything in store for when things go to shit?" I asked. "There are three rapid-response teams," Gomorrah confirmed. "Mostly samurai who can get somewhere quickly without any fuss, and some PMCs as well. If the antithesis land in bigger numbers than expected anywhere, then they''ll be able to respond." I nodded and started to make my way to the others. Tankette was around... maybe I could grab something warm to drink from her? This felt like a ''walk with a coffee'' moment. "Are we still expecting the fucks to mostly be concentrated around here?" "More or less, yes," she said. "More or less?" "The swarm is dispersing. It''s still concentrated, but their trajectories have gotten complex. The Big Gun has mostly been firing backwards into them and taking out larger clumps. They''re about to reach the outer range of what few orbital defences we have." So, we''d still have to deal with a lot of the bastards. That was probably good, because it would be embarrassing if, after everything else, there weren''t any that showed up and we all just found ourselves sitting here with big AA guns and nothing to shoot at. Mostly that would be embarrassing for me, the one that asked people to help. "I think that this''ll be a nice day," I said. *** Chapter Seventy - I Just Want The Sky On Fire Chapter Seventy - I Just Want The Sky On Fire Chapter Seventy - I Just Want The Sky On Fire "You know that saying, ''there''s always a bigger fish?'' well, it ain''t true. Eventually you hit whales and there''s nothing bigger. But with the Antithesis? The Anathema? Yeah, with them, there really is always a bigger fish." --Back Grounder, during Samucon panel interview, 2038 *** I never considered it before, but the sky being on fire really was quite pretty. I think it was the red and oranges contrasting well with all of the deep blues. Then there were suddenly long streaks ripping through the boiling balls of fire above. Tiny black forms that unfurled into massive antithesis forms. I zoomed into one of them, trying to take in as many details as I could. It looked like a model... twenty-two? Those big pterodactyl looking ones. I remember almost getting messed up by one when I was a brand new baby samurai. This one''s body looked a little larger, and its wings were stubbier and covered in strange ridges. Feathers? Meat flaps? I wasn''t sure from so far away. It could be anything. Maybe some sort of biological thing that allowed the bastards to fly their way through space? They were followed by more. Aliens dipping through the screen of fire that Gomorrah had put up. Some were smoking and charred, but plenty more seemed fine. "They''re low enough now," Crackshot said. "Low enough for wha--" I began. I was interrupted by the jack-hammer thumping of massive guns. I looked over, and the gun emplacement I''d bought was opening fire along with a few others. A round sent up every second, alternating between barrels one after the other. I tilted my neck back again to see what that was amounting to. The rounds were... not smart, but they had some guidance to them. I wasn''t surprised when the alien I''d marked out earlier had a face-to-shell meeting that ended with a small explosion that turned it into so much scrap biomatter. "Looks like things are going alright," I said. There were a lot of shells going up now, not just my gun, but from a few dozen others. Machine guns picked up the fire, as well as a few missile launchers and flak cannons. Unfortunately, there was also a lot of sky to shoot at. Blanketing the entire sky would be a whole ordeal. I squinted as more black specs started to appear above. Guns turned, and tracking software picked out ranges, trajectories, and planted rounds into stranglers, but there were more and more of them, and after a solid two or three minutes of non-stop firing, I was starting to notice when the criss-crossing lines of tracer rounds were targeting aliens that were much lower to the ground. I almost jumped out of my skin when a corpse splattered to the ground a dozen metres away. It was smoking and riddled with holes, its body looking like it had passed through a strainer and then got the shit kicked out of it, but it was recognizably a model twenty-two... or a quarter of a model twenty-two at this rate. More bits of aliens were starting to rain down around us, as well as tiny bits of shrapnel. Gros Baton was the first to dart into cover, crouching down under my mech as a chunk of metal pinged off its side. There was that familiar moment of disorientation as my augs'' many screens were shuffled away and replaced by all of the system messages and alerts and the usual heaps of quick-glance information I needed to operate my mech. I aligned myself with the gun, then turned to face north. There, on the far end of the camp. A large model was climbing up over the dirt and sandbag wall surrounding the camp. A few soldiers were backing away from it, sparks going off as they emptied their rifles in the general direction of the antithesis. It was a big bastard, as tall as my mech when it stood on its wings, with a long, narrow face that had something approaching a beak. It stabbed down and just barely missed skewering a soldier who had leapt back and out of the way. Smaller models were hopping off of its sides and back. Model ones? They seemed a bit thinner than the usual bird-like models I saw, but also much ganglier, with longer wings and bodies. I didn''t waste any time locking my Gatling guns on the big fuck and opening up. The twin Brrrrrs of my guns roaring was soon accompanied by the musical tinkle of hot brass cases clinking off the ground. The bigger alien stumbled back, my guns punching several hundred holes across its chest and wings and ripping into its head. Just to be sure, I lined up a shot with one of my bigger guns and my index twitched over the trigger. A single 105mm shell punched a hole through the alien''s middle large enough to crawl through. It slammed down onto the ground, very dead. I turned, scanning for more, and it didn''t take long for me to find stuff to shoot. The antithesis were mostly getting their shit kicked in by all of the AA installations we had around the area, but a few, because of blind luck or because they were just that tough, were making it past all of the defences. They mostly came sweeping down with punctured wings, covered in scorch marks, and often with missing limbs from close-calls. I took it upon myself to finish them off. It was impressive what a 105mm high-explosive shell could do to ruin some alien fuck''s afternoon. "Haha! Bienvenue sur Terre, mother fuckers!" Gros Baton was shouting as he shot a pair of large LMGs upwards. I don''t think he was aiming so much as just... shooting a whole lot in the general direction of the aliens. It was working, though, and I think his enthusiasm was encouraging the nearby soldiers too. Yeah, we had this shit in the bag. Big target incoming. Big target? I looked ahead, then blinked as something huge burst through the wall of fire Gomorrah had going above us. It was still a solid couple of kilometres away, but it was so massive that it felt closer. An alien large enough to swallow a city bus whole, its body covered in gaping, bleeding holes and licks of fire, but its wings still beat, and it was still coming down right on us. "Ah, okay then," I said. Maybe 105mm wasn''t enough after all? *** Chapter Seventy-One - She Without Sin Drops The First Shoe Chapter Seventy-One - She Without Sin Drops The First Shoe Chapter Seventy-One - She Without Sin Drops The First Shoe "Whenever you think you have a clear and precise idea of what the Antithesis are capable of, a new model shows up that breaks that preconception. It''s very much possible that these creatures are not beholden to the same physical limitations that make like on Earth possible. Or perhaps it would be safer to say that they have found ways to circumvent,through blind chance or guided evolution, the laws that make for the foundations of our biological sciences." --Doctor Evelyn "Dagger" Hargrove, 2034 *** "Myalis, what in the fuck is that?" I asked. My mech''s targeting software had no issues locking onto the big flyer above, probably because it was the size of a literal barn with nothing between us and it except for zipping tracer fire. I watched as lines of light machine gun fire stitched themselves across the alien''s underside. That is a Model Thirty-One. It''s a space-capable flying model that can serve as a light transport and which can rapidly birth new hives. It can also produce its own sub-model type. "It can make whats?" I asked. The fat fuck above seemed to contract in on itself, then it shifted around, its wings sort of gorging outwards until they became larger. It looked a little like one of those manta-rays, but with a mouth at the front large enough to swallow a sedan. Then more mouths opened up all along its sides. They had disturbingly human lips, and from the look of them, they were covering a hole large enough for someone to crawl into. The model swelled some more, then there was a loud spitting sound. Large gobs of mucus shout out of the mouths all along its sides, each one flung in a different direction. "What in the fuck," I muttered even as my mech''s targetting locked onto the spit balls. They... turned in midair? I let the mech start shooting at them with its Gatling guns, but I marked the nearest to be left alone. It swung around, the snot stuck to it peeling off as it flew. I squinted at it, then recoiled when it kind of stretched out. It was an alien, not some lump of mucus or just a projectile. A small, cross-shaped bird thing with horizontal and vertical wings. Four long, thin tentacles trailed after it like streamers, and as they twisted and flicked, the little flying alien spun in the air and changed directions. It came crashing down sharply just a dozen metres away, and I shifted my mech to have a better view of it. The models ''wings'' ripped off its back, turning into four long, multi-jointed arm things that it started to use to scamper about. Its tentacles were snapped out towards a nearby soldier who screamed and jumped away. I walked over and stomped it flat with my mech''s forepaw. "What the fuck was that?" I asked Myalis. "It is good, yes," Gomorrah said. "Except that we now have an issue, and that''s a worse-case scenario kind of issue." "Ah. You know, the moment you called I figured you were waiting with a shoew to drop on my head," I said. "I''m surprised you even know that expression," Gomorrah said. "When you''re from a place like where I was raised, you get to learn all of the expressions that have to do with shit getting worse," I deadpanned. "What''s the stich?" "We had a suspicion that the Antithesis would be dropping signal pheromones across the atmosphere," Gomorrah said. "It was one of the Family''s bigger fears." "Why? We''re already in the middle of a global incursion." "Because with prevailing winds, there''s a very real chance that those signal pheromones will stay up there for weeks or months. It means trouble over a much greater timeframe." I... had a hard time caring when the current issue we were dealing with was right in our face, not weeks or months away. "Who cares?" I asked. "All the people who don''t want to die in a week?" Gomorrah asked. I rolled my eyes, then paused and did it again. Did... did my mech roll its eyes too? Why was that even programmed in? "We can take care of that later. Unless there''s anything we can do about it now?" "There might be some weather control systems that would pull the pheromones down. It won''t be worth doing until we''ve finished clearing out the swarm, however. A reduction in visibility now would be ill-conceived. In the meantime, expect all nearby hives to awaken and converge. We know what they''ll be producing." "We do?" I asked. Gomorrah sent over a package. I opened it, then stared. It was a scientific report. A Field Analysis of the Pheromones over the North American Hemisphere and Their Indicators and Possible Meanings. The rest of the document was page after page of text, with a few graphs to break it up. It didn''t even have the common courtesy to be in dark mode. "What''s this?" I asked. "The Pheromones will be summoning flying-type antithesis from any available hives. We can expect a surge in Model Ones in the next day, extending out to... whenever we get around to eliminating the hives that received the message." "Well, that''ll be something," I said. Could be worse, could be better. We''d handle it. In the meantime, I wanted to see if I couldn''t snipe more of those bigger fucks with my railgun. *** Chapter Seventy-Two - Behold My Catlike Grace Chapter Seventy-Two - Behold My Catlike Grace Chapter Seventy-Two - Behold My Catlike Grace "Grace isn''t just about looking good while doing the impossible. It''s about making sure everyone else knows you''re better at it than they are¡ªand maybe stepping on a few necks along the way. Figuratively. Mostly." --Attributed to Emosycthe Mordeath Noir, early 2050s *** The next twenty minutes were kind of boring. Even the constant drumming and thumps of multiple AA guns turning the sky into pin-cushion land was something I could get used to. And then, on the twenty-first minute, things stopped being boring, but in the bad way. I got a call. It was flagged as urgent, and it was coming from Grasshopper. "Where''s the fire?" I asked as soon as I answered. "Hello, Catherine," Grasshopper said. "Are you busy right now?" I stared ahead, where I was moving my mech so that I could line its railgun up with a target some two klicks above and away. "No?" I said. "Oh, fantastic, because I have a bit of a disaster that I''d appreciate your help with," she said. I took the shot, then stepped back, allowing the railgun to cool off while I gave Grasshopper my full attention. "Alright, what''s the disaster?" "I''ve made a lot of friends in the wider Samurai community, as you may be aware, and I always keep an eye out on new up-and-comers, just in case they need a helping hand!" "Uh-huh," I said. Gosh, I loved Grasshopper, she was a sweetheart, but holy crap was she ever bad at getting to the point. "In this case, a whole lot of samurai have answered the call. There are vanguard peppered all across the country working real hard to keep people safe and destroy as many enemies as possible. A lot of these are newer, however, and I''ve been keeping an eye on them, just in case." "I''m following so far," I said. "Is one of them in trouble?" "Just so!" she said. "I''d give you a gold star, but we are in a bit of a hurry, I think. They''re a... rather reserved samurai who has been a vanguard for some time, but they usually keep to themselves. I only met them a couple of times, and I always had the impression that while they were competent, they would really rather keep to themselves. I named them, you know!" "You want me to pop over and check on them?" I asked. "Yes please! I''d appreciate it. They''re closer to you than I am, and I''m currently watching over a small group of new friends who could really use the help. Her name is Shy, by the way. I''ll have Bybyt send her coordinates over!" The very helpful little distance readout projected before me ticked down until there were only a dozen kilometres left. The whole ''moving in a straight line from A to B'' thing really cut down on how long it took to get places, and the skies further out from the Big Gun weren''t nearly as busy with AA fire, which made for much smoother flying. When the coordinates counter hit zero, I came to a full stop and scanned the area. It was a small town, the same sort of bumfuck nowhere that Gros Baton had lived in, but without the benefit of a coordinated community and a local samurai to keep the plants at bay. This town had twenty or so homes on a T-intersection, and the only two larger buildings were an old pub and a firefighter''s station that looked like it doubled as the town hall. It didn''t take long for me to spot some antithesis. A flight of model-ones was zipping across the town''s only intersection towards a few packed-together homes. No, not just model ones. There were a few of those Thirty-One-Slash-Ones, the weird plus-shaped freaks with the tentacles were doing a good job of keeping up with the Model Ones. Now, if they were all heading that way, then there had to be something calling them in that direction. I flew over, and soon discovered something running across a wide backyard. Footsteps on unmowed grass, and my thermal sights were showing something running away from the widening flight of aliens. The something turned and there were a few quick muzzle flashes before a few aliens were evaporated out of the air. That only took out a few of them, however, and the motion revealed that what I had thought was some sort of invisibility suit was more like a cloak. From above, it was great. From the ground? Probably not so much. The Model Ones rushed upwards, flipped, then shot out towards the lone Samurai. The bigger tentacle-y flyers shot ahead, tentacles coming around like whips. I disengaged the clamp holding me in place. If the aliens expected to have a multi-ton mech crash into the ground between them and their prey, then they sure knew how to act surprised. I especially liked to imagine that their emotionless monster faces had a flash of regret on them before I opened up with my canons. The blast alone was enough to pulp the nearest of them with nothing more than displaced air. The few actually struck by twin 105mm rounds... didn''t make it. Then I let loose with the twin shoulder-mounted Gatling guns, spraying the space ahead of me with a very tactical figure-eight motion right through the middle of the swarm before I allowed the mech''s self-targeting to take over to pick out stragglers. "Hey," I said out of the mech''s exterior-mounted speakers. "You good back there?" I glanced through the camera mounted on the back of my mech and found a slack-jawed young woman, her face covered in splotches of white and brown and her eyes opened wide. "Yeah, that''s how people ought to look when they see me," I said. "Grasshopper said you might need a hand?" *** Chapter Seventy-Three - Its Always The Quiet Ones Chapter Seventy-Three - It''s Always The Quiet Ones Chapter Seventy-Three - It''s Always The Quiet Ones "What about... Quiet? No, that''s too on the nose hmm? Oh! Lady Shylance? You''d need to pick up a lance for that. Ah! Just Shy, then?" --Recording of a conversation between Samurai Grasshopper, and a wall, 2056 *** "You good?" I asked before checking my mech''s scanners. There were a few living antithesis around, but they were flopped onto the ground, with hefty chunks of their bodies missing, and I figured that the whole ''living'' thing would rectify itself soon enough. I refocused on Shy. My guns were relatively silent...ish, all things considered, but they had shot right next to the samurai and I didn''t know if she had ear protection. If she was shy by default, I couldn''t imagine how she''d be if I blew out her eardrums. Stepping back very slowly let me see the woman a little better. Shy was a thin twenty-something in an all-black outfit wearing something like a long poncho with a hood and a sort of cloak bit at the back. Her suit was armoured from what I could tell. Her face was partially exposed. She had these sorts of large goggles on, which still let me see her wide-eyed stare. Her skin seemed a little strange? Motley. At first I thought she had burn scars like me, but it didn''t seem like that. That one thing where people''s skin was two-coloured, maybe? It started with a ''v'' but I couldn''t remember the name. "You good?" I repeated. She looked down, as if checking herself, then let go of her gun. It hung off her side by a strap while she tapped herself all over real quick. Then she paused and shyly, slowly, looked back up. She nodded. "Uh, yeah, good," I said. "Can you talk? Or like, sign?" Shy blinked, all without meeting my mech''s face with her gaze. She reached down towards her neck and... tugged up a piece of cloth that covered the few parts of her face that had been exposed. I wasn''t getting the feeling that she''d be chatting with me anytime soon. Then I got a ping, from Myalis. It seems as though Vanguard Shy wishes to forge a connection between her AI assistant and myself. I''m ambivalent about it. I shut off the mech''s microphones so that she couldn''t overhead. "Is that dangerous?" No. "Uh, you sound sure of yourself," I said. Her AI is a thousand years too young to pose a threat to me. In any case, this isn''t too unusual. Vanguard who work together frequently sometimes do this. I''ve been in contact with Atyacus quite frequently, for example. Asking for this level of connection outright is a little strange, but not dangerous or a threat. "Okay?" I tried. "So, what would that even do?" Every Vanguard AI is already networked together, to some degree or another. This would merely allow you to hear what this Vanguard wants to convey through her AI assistant. In this case, in the form of text and sound-based communication. "Why, she wonders if two people will fit within your mechanised unit''s cockpit." "You want to sit in my mech?" I asked. Shy stared. "Where else would she find herself if you were to carry her?" "I mean, I was thinking you could hang on to the side? Or like, ride the mech on top? Like... a really big horse?" Shy started up at me. She had some really pretty eyes under those tech-goggles. Grey-ish blue, and very soulful. Also, very disappointed. "You know, for someone so shy, you seem real eager to get in here with me. Usually people wait for a few days before getting it on with all the skinship." Shy leaned back onto her heels, then quickly shook her head. "Lady Shy wishes to clarify, with great enthusiasm, that you are inherently incorrect in your assumptions." "Uh-huh." "She has decided that walking back is acceptable." Before I had time to reply to that, Shy spun around and started running back. She quickly faded from view, her poncho-cloak turning her invisible. So, another stealth specialist, then? Not that I had really been leaning into that lately. Stealth was cool when you were punching up, but once you have big guns it kind of took a back seat to just exploding your enemies. Shy was a pretty quick runner. I might have lost sight of her, but Myalis painted an outline over her current position, so as I bounced up and after her, I was able to keep up without squishing her underfoot. I split my attention between moving forwards and keeping an eye on my mech''s readings of the area. Spending time playing mechanic hadn''t been a waste. I knew more about how to pilot this machine than ever before, and that really let me use the whole of it. "Model Ones ahead," I warned. "Might be a few of those flyers the Thirty-One spits out too." Shy''s hand appeared from out under her poncho and she gave me a thumb''s up. Right, working with her was going to be interesting, and maybe not in the fun way. We shot past the backyard of an old farmhouse, then Shy leapt over a decrepit wooden fence and into a spot filled with younger trees. It had probably been a field just five or six years ago, but now it was well past overgrown and starting to become a forest of sorts. My mech crashed through the smaller trees. Fortunately, they were mostly leafless, so it wasn''t all that loud. It wasn''t too subtle, either. The aliens caught on quickly enough. We were going to have to ditch the stealth stuff, unless Shy wanted me standing atop her again to keep the birds off. I didn''t want to make a habit of it. *** Chapter Seventy-Four - I Have The Shy Ground Chapter Seventy-Four - I Have The Shy Ground Chapter Seventy-Four - I Have The Shy Ground "That''s NOT how recoil works. Hell, that''s not how physics works. No, I don''t care that you''re a samurai or whatever. While you''re human, in this universe, you obey the laws of physics, dammit!" --Professor K. Dick, Psysics dept. MIT, 2033 *** I tried to be somewhat subtle as I moved through the woods. Shy was ahead of me, and she caught on soon enough that my mech was on the wider side of things. That meant that she mostly picked out a route with fewer trees, or at least more room between them whenever possible. I was still crashing through the woods, rustling branches and breaking young trees with loud snaps. There was subtle, then there was multi-ton mecha subtle. There was really only so much that could be done at the end of the day. Shy half-turned, and I could only just make her out from the very slight shimmer in the air where she stood. Her camo was good, but it still warped a little when contrasted against a complex surface, like fallen trees and piles of leaves. She raised a hand out from beneath her poncho, a finger raised in a ''one-moment'' kind of gesture. I paused, lowering my mech down a little so that I wasn''t poking out of the canopy as much. A flight of Model Ones swooped by overhead. Little raven-like heads tilting this way and that as their too-many-eyes scanned the woods. Looking past them, into the wider sky above, I could make out distant tracer shots still leaving marks across the sky. There was the occasional ''pop'' and ''bang'' of flak bursts going off. Sometimes I could hear the whistle of a rocket reaching up into the atmosphere. Those would be accompanies by a small spark, like a tiny second sun for just a moment as something was fucked up way out above the atmosphere. The number of aliens coming down from above seemed to be slowing down? Maybe? I wasn''t sure. The amount of shots going up certainly seemed to have dwindled a fair bit. Shy gestured me forwards, and I followed. The flock of Model Ones had moved on. It seemed as if they were patrolling the area for a bit before heading off towards the south west a little. The same direction as the Big Gun. I had to get back there sooner rather than later if I wanted to help. Shy led me around in a wide arc, and I realized that we were slowly heading back towards a roadway, one with an old stone bridge over a small creek. There were some things discarded on the roadside. One of those things looked a lot like a gun. A big one. Shy ran over to it, then knelt down while swishing her poncho out so that it covered most of the gun. I could still see part of her though, hands quickly moving over the blocky receiver, checking it over for damage and pulling back the bolt. "What''s that gun?" I asked. Shy glanced up to me, then back down. I almost caught her saying something before her AI filled me in. "Lady Shy has two specialities. Stealth, which keeps her hidden and discrete, and her weapon speciality is shotguns." "Shotguns?" I asked. That thing was longer than I was tall. "That''s a shotgun?" Shy looked up to me and spoke for the first time that I could actually hear. "Punt gun." I don''t question the purchases of others. Yeah, fair enough. I realized that I was falling behind. Shy''s arc through the air was shifting. She was coming back down, her cloak and poncho fluttering around her as she came in for a hard landing. Then her guns blasted again. They were pretty quiet, though they blew two holes into the earth behind her. I took off running to catch up, which didn''t take long. Sure, she had super jumps on her side, but I had a big mecha. I caught up even as I started to lock all of the flyers above into my mech''s targeting software. Shy landed nearby, then nodded to me once. "Lady Shy is going to head upwards as soon as the skies are cleared and take the finishing shot." "Got it," I replied before flicking my Gatlings on. I checked my ammo counter and nodded. A few hundred rounds left. I''d have to order up some more soon, but it would be enough if I stopped the guns from free-firing and set them to only take precise shots. I switched my 105mm guns to flak, then fired twice. The burst ripped into the swarm, then my Gatlings started to spit out rounds, a couple a second, each one smacking a bird out of the air. Shy knelt down close to the ground. I checked ahead. The Model Thirty-One was right there. It was pushing itself up on the ends of its wings. Its body was riddled in long rents and a few holes. Two in particular looked like someone had attacked it for a few hours with a knife and great enthusiasm. Shy''s shotguns went off and she flew upwards into the air. Her legs kicked at the same time, giving her that much more speed. She hung in the air, poncho and cloak fluttering behind, legs splayed out, big gun aimed downwards. There was a blast like the sky ripping itself apart, and Shy zipped away. At the same time, a hole a few feet apart opened up where the Model Thirty-One''s face was. I cleared out the sky, then turned towards the direction where Shy had been flung. "Hey! You good?" "Lady Shy could use some amount of assistance." Frowning, I ran over to where I''d seen her disappear. It didn''t take too long to find her. Her poncho''s stealth only worked when it covered her, and at the moment the poncho and Shy herself were both tangled in the branches of a tree. "You need help up there?" I asked. "..." "Yeah, figured," I said. "So uh, I''ll help you down, then leave you to it, alright?" She slowly raised a thumb''s up. *** Chapter Seventy-Five - The Worth of a Human Chapter Seventy-Five - The Worth of a Human Chapter Seventy-Five - The Worth of a Human "Studies indicate that 11% to 20% of veterans who served in frontline roles have experienced PTSD in a given year. Likewise, 15% to 35% of Antithesis conflict veterans experience PTSD within a year of their departure from the front lines. Data for the Samurai/Vanguard is limited, but self-admitted cases of PTSD amongst that group suggest that only 1% to 3% of Samurai/Vanguard suffer from PTSD-like symptoms. Whether this is due to the process by which they are chosen or not is uncertain." --VA-PTSD.RD.GOV, Prevalence of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder in the Combat Populace, 2046 *** "Alright, you good?" I asked as Shy landed on the ground. She patted her knees clear of dust, then shifted the hood of her cloak back up and over her head. Her clothes were... a bit of a mess, to be honest, but that''s what happened when you were flung into a tree. At least she was partially armoured. She had a padded undersuit beneath that poncho, with some harder looking plates over the chest with a few little pockets here and there. Basic tactical gear stuff, and all very obviously Samurai-made. "Lady Shy wished to reiterate that she is well." "Yeah, that''s good," I said as I backed my mech up and away from the tree she''d been stuck in. I''d used my mech as a sort of ladder to give her something to climb down. There were plenty of handholds where the armoured plates on the exterior of my mech had gaps. "Look, I can''t sit around here for much longer. Will you be okay if I leave you behind, or do you want to come back to the Big Gun?" I didn''t have a fantastic idea of how dangerous the area was, but I could guess that it wasn''t that bad. There hadn''t been many flyers coming down from above. Those that I did see were all shooting out in the same direction I''d come from, and most of those were way, way up in the air. Unless Shy here tried taking massive potshots at them, she was probably going to pass unnoticed. That meant she could probably pick out the targets she wanted. The Model Thirty-One was probably a target of opportunity for her. I was... way newer as a samurai, but I''d been in the thick of it from the start. Shy here was a more normal sort, chilling out at a lower, more reasonable tech level for a longer time. She probably had a whole life that didn''t involve samurai shit. Couldn''t fault her for that. She was here now, doing her thing. Shy hopped on the spot a couple of times, dislodging a few small branches stuck to her poncho, then she checked on her guns, each one rising up from under her cloak so that she could look them over. The way they moved was fluid and fast, and I suspected that she was wired into the controls for them directly. I saw her mouth move behind her scarf a little. "Lady Shy is thankful for your intervention, and more so for allowing her to eliminate that higher-tier model. Having said that, she doesn''t require any additional assistance." "Cool," I said. I called over that mecha-carrier. It was hovering not too far from where I was dropped off. A few model ones had zipped around it, but it wasn''t biological enough for them to nibble at, and it wasn''t hostile, so they treated it as just an obstacle and mostly left it alone. Gomorrah nodded. "I saw you leaving on the tactical net, so I asked. You should have reported it in, but that you didn''t isn''t too strange." "Yeah, Shy--the samurai that needed a hand--wasn''t in a terrible spot, but she was out on her own. I left her there on her own too, but I think she''ll be able to figure things out." "Good," Gomorrah said. "I might have you run out to a few more samurai that need help. We have some antithesis resistance moving this way, but... it''s well organised." "And that''s good?" I asked. "They''re marching in what passes for neat rows for them," she said. "It makes it easy to rip them apart with artillery. Once the skies have cleared out some more we''ll have the airforce in to reinforce us, and that''ll be it for them." That was pretty good. "So, some samurai need help?" I asked. "How''s the situation overall?" "Three casualties," she said. "That''s it?" I asked. I was sure there had to be more. Were they way underreported? With this many jugheads running around with guns and grenades, I couldn''t believe that only three had died. "Samurai casualties," she clarified. "Ah. Are we not checking the other casualties?" She shrugged. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but they don''t quite matter as much. Not when we need every force multiplier we can get. Besides, it''s hard to keep track of millions. Keeping track of some two hundred samurai is comparatively easy." Something twisted in my gut at that, and it didn''t take a bachelors in ethics to figure out what was wrong with that entire thing. "That''s kinda fucked up, Gom." "I know," she said. "But right now, there are more samurai defending small towns and remote villages than PMCs or soldiers. I mean... there are more towns being defended by us than by the armed forces. They need numbers, logistics. We don''t. Every one of us lost means another small town or frontier lost. It''s... a difficult calculus if you think of every number as human, so we can''t afford to." "That''s a big ask, isn''t it?" "I think it''s why my religion considers us saints. It''s that much easier to think of each samurai as larger than life that way." She started walking again. "I need to replenish the ammunition in some of my AA platforms. Then I''ll be flying out to assist some samurai that might need it. I''d suggest that you do the same." That sounded like a decent idea. I stretched my neck back and looked up into the sky first though. It was still raining aliens, but at least it was petering out, and the clouds were returning. Soon it would be overcast as usual. *** WE HAVE MERCH! WE HAVE MERCH! It''s here! At long last, after months of planning and trying things, the merch store is finally liiiive! LINK: STRAY CAT STORE You can pick up SHIRTS! And MUGS! And... Stickers? Yeah, there''s STICKERS! Next up, Tinea from Tinea and Leah, then Mai, and then even more! Of course, the Broccoli Bunch shirt is almost ready as well! I''ll be making a big post about that one too, but in the meantime, there''s cute stickers and stuff to grab as well <> Keep warm, RavensDagger! PS: Canada Post is still on strike, which is really stalling a lot of things for me, but it might also make Canadian deliveries take a smidge longer! Keep that in mind if you''re a Canadian! Chapter Seventy-Six - A Giggle and a Rocket Chapter Seventy-Six - A Giggle and a Rocket Chapter Seventy-Six - A Giggle and a Rocket "The UFO craze started a little before the Cold War took off, and it mostly concentrated around the United States. Unsurprising, as at the time, the US armed forces were testing several devices that seemed alien to the lay person, and rumours of extraterrestrial sightings only masked the presence of these planes and drones. UFO sighting became a strange hobby for the crackpot and the conspiracy theorist, until the early 2020s, when there was a sudden and powerful resurgence, one that the armies and intelligence networks of the world looked at with growing concern. Then we met aliens, and they weren''t peaceful little green men." --UAPs and UFOs, the Declassifying, 2035 *** I checked up on the newbies, just to be sure, but they really didn''t need the help. The team had grouped up atop one of the defensive structures around the Big Gun compound and were pretty much just having a blast messing up the antithesis whenever they came into range. Someone had given Princess a rocket launcher. Gros Baton was helping her load it up between shots, then she''d stand up on the wall and fire it out in the general direction of aliens that needed blowing up. The rocket was guided, which was the only reason it hit anything. It was a little concerning, hearing her giggle so much between shots. I think she mostly liked the way that the backblast made her poofy princess dress whip out around her. Hedgehog had picked up some new gear. His spikey armour looked different, more LED lighting, sharper spikes, and Knight was... just kinda chilling with her sword on her lap, waiting for the aliens to get within stabbing range. Yeah, they didn''t need my help, so I pulled back and checked on that Family-curated map of local samurai. It looked like a few of the dots had moved around a little. Some tightening in around cities, some dispersing out and away a little. I bet it was a real pain in the ass to herd this many samurai. "Hey, Myalis, any areas where shit''s going wrong?" I asked. There was a sort of heatmap overlay available, but I couldn''t make sense of the lava lamp of colours blobbing around it. There were comments and expert analysis as well, but it was coached in the sort of technical jargon that would take me a while to parse through. Indeed. This area here, within ten minute''s flight of your current location, has been flagged as high-risk. A widening red circle appeared over the map. North west of the Big Gun''s location. Mont-Tremblant? It was a bit past that, actually, but not by too terribly much. The map showed three greyed-out icons. "Why are these greyed out?" I asked. Most of the other samurai icons were bright and easy to spot, except in places like where I stood, where too many of them crowded into one spot and they were all shrunk to fit. The Family was using some generic icons for a lot of samurai, but some of them, of us, had custom logos. The three in the area looked like... a toe, a knight piece from a chess set, and a red dot with an L in it. The three Vanguard in this area have failed to report in. Two are confirmed dead. "What the fuck," I muttered. "Two of the three Gomorrah mentioned as dead are here?" The AA around the Big Gun site hadn''t exactly gone quiet, but it was now only taking potshots at a few lingering aliens above. The swarm was spread out, but it looked like we were just dealing with the tail end of it now. Which made the dead samurai all the more suspicious. We were so close to what I''d call a total victory, so how had these three gone and messed themselves up? I checked over what I could on the way over. The Family had good records of where alien bits had crashed, because it only made sense to track as much of that as possible. Mont-Tremblant wasn''t far, not when you were coming from space and that kind of distance meant nothing, so aliens aiming for the Big Gun who were only a couple of degrees off sometimes veered towards Mont-Tremblant. More veered towards New Montreal, probably because they could see the city from orbit. In any case, the Family''s tracker showed a few coming in close. There was a whole little city up on that hill, with its own defences and such. The samurai there had been taking out fliers that came too low since the sky started to fall. There were records of aliens tumbling down around the area, and... that''s all I really had to work with. I was sure given a few hours I might be able to figure something out, but I also had a cheat that I could use. "Myalis, do we have any clues as to what actually went down?" Are you just asking me because you''re too lazy to look yourself? "I''m not," I said indignantly. "I''m asking because you''re able to figure this shit out in seconds while it''ll take me hours, and we don''t have hours before we arrive." Hmm, I suppose that''s fair. Let''s see... the distribution of Antithesis in the area matches projections. It''s probable that the threat that took out the vanguard in the region was Antithesis borne. So, another alien fuck. Got it. I could handle that. I ended up encountering the Family agents halfway. They were riding in a quad-copter. It was an armoured box, with heavy-duty landing gear and a few small turrets mounted to the sides and bottoms of short, stubby winglets. The kind of thing that was probably significantly more expensive on fuel than the average hover car, but it was also armoured and a whole lot faster. There were three of them, flying in a tight formation, so I moved around and placed myself at the rear of their flying-V and enjoyed the turbulence of their backdraft. Fortunately, it didn''t take long to make it to Mont-Tremblant. The small mountain-top city wasn''t much to look at. A few skyscrapers, some resorts for the rich, and some artificial snow-covered hills for people still into skiing all year round. There was also a lot of smoke. Craters dotted the area, and several buildings were on fire. It looked like the local samurai hadn''t gone quietly. That left me with a bad feeling in my gut. Something bad had gone down here while all of our attention was elsewhere, and I was going to have to find out what. *** Chapter Seventy-Eight - You Are Being Hunted Chapter Seventy-Eight - You Are Being Hunted Chapter Seventy-Eight - You Are Being Hunted "Stay safe out there, okay?" Cavalier''s wife, 2057 *** Cavalier''s last known location was just ahead. There was a sort of... I think it might have been a resort? There was definitely a restaurant to one side, with a large patio that was partially covered, as well as a dining room within. To the side of that was a parking lot and then a fancy store that looked like it exclusively sold skiing gear. Both were connected at the rear to a long, low building with a covered walkway on the exterior. From the look of the cars left in the lot, this was the kind of place that was a little expensive for my blood. The entire area felt crooked. Probably because it was on the side of a pretty steep hill, and the ground was pretty sharply angled. The group of soldiers I was tailing slowed down, one of them in the group ahead raised a fist and they came to a halt. I did the same, taking the moment to scan the area. It didn''t take long to see what caught their attention. There was a mechanical horse in the parking lot. Left on its side, bits and pieces of its mechanical innards flung around and its armour-plated side ripped apart. It wasn''t the only sign of a fight. Several cars here were dented and crushed. Windows shattered, tires punctured. It looked like something big had crashed onto them, but whatever that was, it was gone now. "Samurai Stray Cat," One said. His voice coming out of nowhere made me jump a little in my seat. "Yeah?" I asked. "Our tech operator noticed some light scrambling over our secured comms. Can you confirm?" I frowned. Scrambling? As in someone trying to fuck with our communications system? I had a thing for that. Buried somewhere in my augs was an app thing that would let me check for signal strength and whatnot. "Gimme a moment," I said. He''s not incorrect. There is a faint amount of interference. Look. Myalis popped open a screen, and on it was what looked like the wave...thing of the conversation I''d just had with One. She highlighted some bits, little parts that looked slightly off. "I don''t have the degrees to figure that out," I admitted. It''s very light. Faint, even. From experience, I believe that you''re in an area with a physical signal jammer in the air, but the quantity has decreased enough to make it negligible. I''m impressed that anyone even noticed. I nodded. That could have been something one of the samurai here used, maybe? I could see a few reasons to want to jam signals. "Looks like your tech guy was right," I said to One. "There''s some sort of signal jammer thing. Myalis, my AI, says it''s a physical jammer." What hell could bite a person clean in half like that? Through plate armour and all? "I''m calling the choppers in closer. We might need close air support." "I''m picking something up," Invincible said. He stomped towards the building, heedless of the rest of us behind him. "I''ve got some pretty good scanning tech. There''s something warm in there." "Form up!" One snapped. The soldiers ran ahead, some of them moving to place themselves behind cars, others taking a knee at the rear. I moved up as well, skirting around Cavalier''s body as I followed Invincible forwards. I was just about to ask if Invincible was certain when the man froze up for a moment. Then his arms opened up, revealing small barrels that aimed out below his forearm. "Bug!" he shouted. I looked ahead just in time to see a set of four large eyes opening within that big ski shop. Then the front of the store exploded outwards. There was a split second, just a fraction of a fraction, shorter than a blink, where I had time to process what I was seeing. I''d once fought a Model Twenty-Three, back in Burlington. That thing had been a T-rex on steroids. Big fucking head, lots of muscle, fuckloads of mass to throw around, and it had been mean. Mean but kinda stupid. What I was looking at now was a little larger, but also a lot more sinuous. The little monkey part of my brain that got spooked with it saw anything snake-like was shitting itself. And then I made out the fact that this thing had eight legs behind it, long spidery ones that blended in almost too well with the background. I didn''t like it. I liked it even less as it rushed out of the storefront. The soldiers opened up on it, as did Invincible. The nightmare fuel monster''s neck snapped out like a striking cobra and it clamped its teeth around the man and squeezed. I heard the whine of metal bending even as Invincible screamed, barely audible over the constant roar of gunfire. I shook myself into action, leapt forwards, and swiped at the thing''s neck. Somehow, the soldiers shifted all of their aim in time to miss me while still punching rounds into the thing. My claws struck nothing but air as the massive spider-monster scuttled back into the shop and tore through the back wall. The gun fire stopped. "Reload," One ordered. "Charlie Four is down." I glanced to the side. One of the soldiers looked like his chest had been punched through by something big. He was just slumped there. When had that even happened? "What the fuck was that?" I asked to anyone who''d be willing to answer as I scanned around me. There was no sign of the fucker, just one dead and Invincible crunched up a little. That was a model Thirty-Three. It is a hunter. You are being hunted. *** Chapter Seventy-Seven - Dead Samurai Tell No Tales Chapter Seventy-Seven - Dead Samurai Tell No Tales Chapter Seventy-Seven - Dead Samurai Tell No Tales "Samurai are our saviours. Our heroes. The people we follow, the madmen and women who force the world to change. And sometimes they die." --President of the United States, Silver Hoop''s eulogy, 2035 *** The Family squad ahead of me landed in an open roadway. Three quadcopters coming down with military-grade precision in the centre of an intersection with their fronts turning so that they formed a sort of triangle. I brought my mech carrier up and into the centre of that formation, then let the clamps go. There was a heavy thump as my mech landed, but I was strapped in well enough that I barely felt it. The choppers'' opened up aIt the rear and disgorged three fireteams out onto the road. These were men and women in all-black armour, with just a few small patches for identification. I felt like I was getting used to working with soldiers, but these people moved differently. I''m not sure if I could point it out, exactly, but it was... tighter? More practised? They swept out of the rides, guns sweeping around as they scanned everything. They all had identical equipment, at least as a base. Small, stubby SMGs strapped to their sides, and a much larger rifle as their primary. I couldn''t see anything about the soldiers under the armour, though. They had face-covering helmets with nubs for night vision and thermal sensor and full-body armour on. They looked like the kind of troops elite corporations would use to send a message. They formed a circle around my mech, every-other soldier dropping to a knee and facing outwards. The worst part was how damned quiet they were about it. Incoming message. The squad leader wants you to connect to their group communication network. "Let''s do it," I said. A moment later someone spoke up. Male, from the voice, scratchy and rough. "Samurai Stray Cat," he said. "I''m One. Good to have you here with us." "Pleasure''s all mine, One," I said. I had no idea which one of them One was. They had little patches on them, but they didn''t have easily readable numbers. At least, not from my angle. "Are you here for the same reason as we were dispatched?" One asked. "Yeah, probably. Three samurai downed in this area. ToeJam might still be alive, the other two are apparently dead. I intend to find out what happened. If it''s aliens, we kill them, if it''s some corpo-meddling, uh, the same." None of the soldiers reacted to that, not even a twitch or a nod. I did notice that a couple of them had some cybernetics. A pair of metallic legs here, some arms that bent in strange ways there. "Confirmed," One said. "Charlie scout has found Track Pad Lad. Confirmed KIA." "Fuck," I muttered. "Any idea what did him in?" There was a decently long pause before One replied. "C-Five, tell us what you can about the mark''s condition?" A second voice finally joined in, the scout that I presumed was C-Five. They sounded feminine, a little, but I might have been off the mark. "They''ve been dead for at least twenty minutes. Possible exsanguination. I see several lacerations across their chest, armour was penetrated. Arms are both broken, legs might be as well. Lower torso was crushed." "Fuck," I said. A shiver ran down my spine. It was... clinical, but I could still imagine it. "Their gear?" "Mark''s gear is still present. Armour is heavily compromised. Weapons... seem intact. Mid-calibre assault rifle and unknown Protector-tech. Can''t divine the state of their electronic gear." I nodded. If it was all still there, then I could probably rule out a corporation being at fault. Plus, no mention of bullet holes or explosive damage. Rents and crushing was more an antithesis way of doing shit. I was still walking along with the soldiers, so I noticed when they all suddenly tensed and stopped moving. "What''s going on?" I asked. I did a sensor sweep, but nothing strange came up. "B-Five is down," One said. B-Five had to be the other scout, the one sent to Cavalier. "Where?" I asked. My map pinged, and I found two pins added to it. One the location of Track Pad Lad, the other Cavalier''s last known location. B-Five''s location was also there, a little dotted line showing them travelling over, then circling around the body before moving in... then they were thrown way the fuck back. Unless they''d gained a lot of speed all of a sudden, it looked almost like they''d been ejected out of the area. "Change in objective," One said. "Alpha Medic, take Alpha Two and Three, rendez-vous with ToeJam." Three of the soldiers, including one with a slightly bigger pack that had a discreet red cross on it, took off at a fast jog. "Alpha squad, on the samurai. We''re keeping her safe. Bravo, vanguard, Charlie, take point." The group rearranged itself in an instant and I had to do a little step-dance to get my mech facing the right direction. I wasn''t liking this whole ''not being in charge'' thing, but as the group started forwards with a bit more pep in their step, I figured it might come in handy to have a bunch of dudes with guns when shit went down. *** Chapter Seventy-Nine - More Than the Machine Chapter Seventy-Nine - More Than the Machine Chapter Seventy-Nine - More Than the Machine "This is a world where your value as a human doesn''t contribute to your own happiness, but the wealth of others. It''s inevitable. The only thing you can do is make them as miserable as you." --Mario Russo the CEO Bomber, 2029 *** "Eyes open!" One snapped. It was the first time he sounded actually concerned. "Medic, check on Charlie Four." A soldier ran over to the dead man on the ground, but... yeah, there wasn''t much that could be done there. That dude was very dead. Then they surprised me by taking apart the upper chest section of Charlie Four''s armour. A few disconnected bits later, and the medic has Charlie Four''s head entirely removed and was placing it into a foldable bag. A cyborg? Not just a small one either, but a full-body conversion? Fuck, that was something I didn''t see often. I shook my head and refocused. The Family''s guys could be the most badass fucks I''d ever seen, but that didn''t help too much now. One of them had still gone down to that Model Thirty-Three and it didn''t look like we''d hurt it much. "Invincible, you okay?" I asked. I was practically standing on top of him. "Yeah... more or less?" he grunted as he tried to sit up, then fell back down. "Oh, fuck, I think I broke a rib. One sec... yeah, my AI says I broke two, and my clavicle, and some bones in my hand." "You''ll live?" I asked. He muttered something that I couldn''t make out, and a box thumped to the ground next to him. Then the back of his armour opened up slightly and a small four-legged drone fell out and ran over to the box. It returned with what looked like a Nano-Regenerator suite that it climbed into his armour with. "I''ll live," he confirmed. That drone wasn''t a bad idea. "Myalis, gimme... six cat drones. Cheap ones. We need to find where that thing went. And maybe... can you equip them with a little surprise? Some HE bomb or something?" Certainly. Six Cat Drones coming right up. They were delivered in three boxes with flaps on the sides. No one chose to comment on how they looked a little like a cat carrier. The sides opened and a gaggle of little cat drones darted out. They had small cylinders on their backs, covered in yellow-black warning stripes. One of the screens in my mech flicked over to a six-square view of what the drones were seeing. "One, you got visual on that thing?" I asked. "No," he replied. "We''re bringing our quadcopters down to get a better picture of the area. Our electronics aren''t picking anything up." I frowned. There was some fuzz in his speech, like he had a bad mic or something. "Myalis, is it me or is there something fucking with the comms?" You''re correct. There''s more interference than previously. I looked around, and finally noticed that there was probably more dust in the air that could easily be attributed to the alien crashing through the walls of that shop. The damned thing had spewed out dust all over, then, something that messed with electronics? That seemed possible. It could also be something to help its stealth. I''d noticed it going all chameleon on us when it pushed out the back of the store. "Can you give me a rundown of a Model Thirty-Three''s abilities?" I asked. Certainly. They''re generally considered a hunter-type Model. They have higher-than average intelligence. "For an Antithesis?" I asked. No. Just in general. "Ah." They have relatively decent stealth capabilities and can regulate their temperatures as well as turn their skin different colours and textures. Not so different from some octopi. Otherwise, the model has an average amount of strength for a Model in the third tier, with average durability, but excellent self-healing abilities. Given a few hours, a Model Thirty-Three that''s near death can essentially regrow itself. Well, damn. "We need to find this thing fa--" One of the screens to my right went dark. A split-second later I heard a loud boom and a plume of dust rose out from maybe a block away. I saw its eyes pop like overfilled water balloons, but the moment my Gatlings had passed, they started to regrow. Myalis had severely under-described its healing. I reached up with one paw, even as the Model Thirty-Three lifted my front off the ground. I buried it into its guts, and I could tell that its insides were being syphoned through the portal-tipped claws. We''d see if it could live with no insides! "Samurai Stray Cat!" One shouted. "The edge!" The edge? Then I realized what he meant as the alien gave a shove, and my world spun over. I was falling backwards, the guardrail doing fuck and all to stop me from tumbling back. But I grabbed the bastard anyway, unloaded both 105s into the sky with a spray of alien innards, then pulled it down with me. The crash shook my everything. Fortunately, it was only one floor down. Unfortunately, it was still chewing on my mech''s head. "Fucker!" I yelled as I opened up with the railgun. I couldn''t see, but I was pretty sure it now had a hole in its middle that I could crawl through. And yet it was still alive and eating me. I struggled. One Gatling was just gone, ripped off at some point. My 105s were throwing up warnings. My tail was caught. My forelimbs were scrambling against the alien''s underside... Then it bit down harder. I screamed as teeth started to poke through the walls of my cabin. Fucker was trying to eat me! My mech went on the fritz, because it wasn''t designed to be a fucking chew toy. But I knew exactly where the bastard''s head was, didn''t I? "Myalis, is the head weak? Its brain is in its head, at the very rear, near the neck joint. I unstrapped myself after moving my mech''s legs to hold on tighter. I almost stumbled out of the control seat as things shook. The walls grinded down, teeth moving in a few more millimeters. But I knew, more or less, where its brain was. My drones gave me an okay picture from the outside. It didn''t look good, but... I pulled my sword up, unsheathed it with some difficulty, then pressed the tip onto the front of my cockpit even as I shifted myself around so that I had a foot over my headrest and the other bent down before me. "Fuck you!" I roared. The cockpit filled with the hiss of the void. I pushed. The sword stabbed through armour like it wasn''t there until the hilt met the glowing inside of my cockpit. The alien froze up. There was a long, long moment where I wondered if I''d just stabbed my own mech for nothing. Then the teeth clenching slowly loosened, and I shut my sword off in a hurry as that meant nothing was holding my mech in place anymore. *** Chapter Eighty - No Country For Old Cats Chapter Eighty - No Country For Old Cats Chapter Eighty - No Country For Old Cats "Die young. It''s not worth it, being old." --Slogan of the Young Bloods, PMC group, 2051 *** "Myalis, is that thing dead?" I asked. Death confirmed. Points deposited. "How many?" I asked even as I allowed myself to slump back. There was some crap on my seat that dug into my back. Oh, and I could see the sunlight through the walls of my mech, which meant that shit had been way closer than I liked. You received two thousand points for the elimination of that Model Thirty-Three. That was it? Then again, a chunk of that was split with Invincible. Maybe even ToeJam, if he''d damaged it and survived. Which meant that big fucker was worth a heap of points. Probably less than what it would cost to fix my mech. There was a shushing followed by a pop over the comms. "Samurai Stray Cat?" someone asked. Young, male, still kind of gruff sounding. "Who''s this?" I asked. I hadn''t switched channels. Unless something got knocked around? "This is Two. One is injured and I''m taking command in his stead. Can you confirm that you''re well?" Two asked. Very imaginative names, this bunch. "I''m alive," I said. "And not injured. My mech''s another story. The alien''s dead, but feel free to empty a few more rounds in the fucker if it so much as twitches." "Understood. Samurai Invincible and our team is coming around to assist you." I grunted, then reached over and grabbed one of the screens that showed my drone''s visuals. From above, it looked like... well, like I''d tumbled down the side of a short cliff with a fuck-large spider-velociraptor and crashed through the roof of a store. I shifted until I was sitting back down, then I reached over and tapped into my mech''s diagnostics. There was more red than I''d ever seen before. But... well, the mech was made tough. I knew, I''d opened it up a few times and fiddled around with its insides. I had a passingly decent idea of exactly how much of a pain in the ass fixing all the errors being thrown up would be. I got my feet into place and grabbed the yoke, then I started to extricate myself from out of the alien''s body. It was larger than my mech, kinda. The thing had a relatively small central body, but it had legs that went on for days. I had to chop off a leg with my mech''s claws to get it to let go, then all I had to figure out was how to climb out of the wreckage. We''d fallen right through the roof of... was this a snow-mobile dealership? There were a few crunched up next to some ATVs. The lights in half the shop were down. There was almost enough room for my mech to stand there. "Shit happens," Invincible said. He reached down to a plate on his chest and tapped it open, revealing a small compartment. He pulled out a small cardboard pack, bit something out of it, then tucked it away and reached for one of those old-timey hotel-style match boxes. He lit up, then grabbed his fresh cigar and gestured to my mech with it. "You gonna scrap that?" "Nah, I''ll keep it to fix," I said. "Sec, I''d love to chat but... any of you know if ToeJam is alright? And the troopers up there? Shit happened in a blur and I didn''t see if anyone was too badly hurt." One of the soldiers, whose voice I recognized as Two, spoke up. "Three minor casualties. One fatality," he said. "Well, fuck," I said. That was a lot of dead to one rampaging alien. Actually... that one alien had fucked up three samurai, played with Invincible here like he was a chew toy, and took just about everything I had to put down. I shuddered. It was hitting me, suddenly, how close I''d come to adding another notch to the number of samurai it killed. "Myalis, can I have something real incendiary?" I asked. A few moments later, the corpse was burning up. So was the back of that shop, but I figured they probably had fire insurance, and I handed out a couple of anti-fire nades to the troopers, in case shit got out of hand. It might have been a slight waste of points, but I wanted to make sure there wasn''t anything left of that piece of crap. One of the quadcopters came down further in, then shot off in a hurry in the general direction of New Montreal. "ToeJam has been evacuated," Two said. "There''s a second team coming in to gather our KIA and secure the area. The Family wishes to offer its gratitude for your assistance." "Yeah, no prob," I said. "That''s what family''s for," Invincible said with a dark chuckle. He puffed out a little more smoke, then dropped the cigar and stomped it flat. "Nice meeting you, Stray Cat. I''m gonna get back to a safe space, have my bones checked, then head out again." "Alright," I said. "Nice to meet you too. Uh, see you around." He nodded seriously. "It''s a small world." Weird guy. I glanced at my mech, then the area. It was... safeish. So sticking around wasn''t helping anything. And heading back out... well, that wasn''t gonna happen with my main weapons platform in this kind of state. "Fuck me, I''m gonna have to spend points again, aren''t I?" Hurrah. I rolled my eyes at Myalis'' sarcastic cheer, but I had the impression she wasn''t displeased about it. *** Chapter Eighty-One - Touch Me... Chapter Eighty-One - Touch Me... "And so we discover that technology is sufficiently advanced, that what we understood was but a mere fraction of the whole, and that our instincts are nothing but fumbles in the dark. What a time to live in, when there is so much to see in a world where mankind is introduced to the first true light, even if it may be of another''s making!" --Professor Le Guin, 2038 *** I ended up asking the Family if they could spare a ride back to the Big Gun. My mech was loaded onto the carrier, with a bit of difficulty, and sent off towards home. I''d given the carrier instructions to park itself out on the porch, for ease of access later. I would move the mech into the garage when I got home and could supervise it a little. Maybe it was time I bought a mechanic''s catalogue and a few jacks and... those big fork things that they used to lift cars up, but for mechs. I expected the Family to let me ride in one of their quadcopters, but instead they flew over a speedy little APC strapped on with some jet engines. It landed nearby, and I waved goodbye to the troopers still securing the area. It was back to the Big gun for me. Sitting down in the otherwise empty APC felt strange. I was drained. Maybe it was the adrenaline finally sinking, or the long ass day finally starting to weigh on me, but whatever it was, I felt like I hadn''t slept in three days. I wasn''t physically tired, just... my brain felt a little buzzed out, but not in a pleasant way. I stifled a yawn as the APC came in for a landing and I stood up and grabbed onto an overhead handle for stability. There was a moment where I got a good view of the Big Gun site from above. The wave of aliens rushing towards us looked like it had petered out to nothing, but not without leaving some signs. There was a trench of craters and burn scars a few kilometres long reaching out from the base and way out into the countryside. It was filled with small bits and pieces of aliens. The newbies had been having fun, it seemed. A few larger corpses were tossed around there too, but nothing even in the twenties. The Fury was parked nearby, so the moment the APC set down, I hopped off and started to search. I hadn''t thought about what might have happened to Gomorrah, to my friends, while I was busy with that Thirty-Three, but what if it wasn''t the only Samurai-killer out there today? My shoulders slumped a little when I found Gomorrah, mask off, sitting near the Big Gun''s command room. She was talking to Emosythe, both of them holding onto paper coffee cups. "Cat," Gomorrah said when she saw me. "You''re back late." "Huh? Oh, yeah," I said. "Did you hear what happened?" She frowned faintly, then shook her head. "No? I just returned." "You look like you''ve seen a ghost," Emoscythe said. How she knew that when I was still wearing a helmet, I had no idea. "I had a close call. Two samurai died to one alien, and a third was messed up. Got there and, uh, ran into one I''d never seen before." "Thirties or higher?" Emoscythe asked. We didn''t exactly say goodbye as I trudged over to my bike and climbed on. I just sat there for a moment, not even turning it on. Do you want me to call ahead to Lucy? "Huh? No, it''s okay," I said. The question was enough to kick me into gear. I kicked the bike on, then rose up and over the Big Gun site. I did a quick turn around the space, just making sure, but most of what I saw were soldier types sitting back and resting, some of them shovelling up shell casings and others just laying back on the ground, their fatigues covered in sweat. I aimed south, towards New Montreal, and kicked the throttle down. I made good time, but it was one of those flights where I soon arrived home and I wasn''t sure if I really registered anything between A and B. Landing my bike on the top floor landing, I slid in under the awning just as the sky started to open up again with another New Montreal downpour. I didn''t know if that was a good sign or not, but I was too tired to question it as I walked in. Lucy was by the entrance. She was glaring. "What happened?" she asked. I shucked my helmet off, then tossed my coat onto a rack by the door. My guns and such I dropped nearby. One of the robotic cats showed up and picked them up in its mouth, then wandered off with them... probably for the best that someone was making sure that none of the Kittens got their hands on a rifle. "Hey," I said at last as I tried on a smile. Lucy came closer, got onto the tips of her toes, then gave me a kiss. "Hey," she said. I melted a little, but that was before I noticed that Lucy was holding onto something. It was a bottle, with one of those spray nozzle things at the top. "What''s that for?" I asked. "You almost died," she said. "I was fine," I said. Lucy raised the spray bottle, and before I could react, spritzed me in the face. "Ah! Lucy, what the fuck?" "I''m sorry, Cat, but it''s for your own good," she said. She legitimately sounded sorry too. "What''s for my own good?" I asked. "You''re point pinching too much, Cat. I won''t lose you because you''re unable to buy stuff to keep yourself safe." "I''ve bought plenty of stu--ah! Stop it!" I squeaked as she spritzed me again. "Not until you take better care of yourself, Cat! It''s for your own good!" Somehow, we ended up on the floor, then in bed, then on the floor again. *** Chapter Eighty-Two - Till I Can Get Mine Chapter Eighty-Two - Till I Can Get Mine "Generally, over the course of a samurai''s lifespan as a samurai, you''ll see them shift a lot in their purchasing patterns, though some stick to a single pattern. There are some who never have any points remaining, as they spend them as soon as they gain them. Others save them up, or try to reach a certain ceiling, then once they''re reached it, then cease all expenditure until they''re ready for the next leap upwards." --On the Spending Habit of the Samurai, Sixth Edition, 2054 *** The next day was... quiet. It wasn''t like I could afford to do nothing, but nothing is exactly what I did. I think I slept a solid ten hours, grabbing Lucy close and not letting her go, even when she complained sleepily about having to get up. I couldn''t sleep without her close, and... I didn''t want to admit it, but maybe that close call had rattled me a little. Having Lucy so close reminded me that I was alive. As long as Lucy was breathing then I''d be living too. I still woke up early, at the kind of hour that Gomorrah would have praised me for. I got up, finally letting Lucy waddle off to the washroom with some grumbled complaints that had me smiling, at least a little. Loading up on coffee as a decent replacement for breakfast, I slipped on some bunny-eared flip-flops, then made my way down to the garage. I''d ordered the cat carrier to bring my mech down there, with the help of my repair drone. My mech was waiting for me in the corner of the garage. I stared at it while gently sipping at my coffee. "Yeah, still looks fucked," I said. It is in dire need of repair. But I am rather confident that you could do it. It would take a lot of time, and a lot of effort, but you could manage. "I guess," I said. I started to circle around the mech, eyeing it from different angles and making a mental tally of what needed replacing. It was... not as bad as it could have been. The frame was intact, the legs had a few scratches, but they were superficial. The body was mostly fine. A few bent bits here and there, but nothing expensive. The head was... fucked beyond repair. One of the Gatlings was just gone, and I wouldn''t trust the side-mounted guns. So, just one big chunk to replace, which would probably require taking apart a lot of the front of the mech to manage. I''d need a sort of jack to lift the head off. Maybe I could sell it off to the Family or something? There were a few decent sensors and such tucked into the head that someone might be interested in. "Myalis, how many points am I sitting on?" I asked. Point Total: 72,417 That was... a hefty chunk of points. "How much was the mech again?" You paid twenty-thousand points for the Mark IV Mechcatular Nyanzerfaust. Well, that wasn''t a bad idea. "Let''s call it... uh... I guess it''s three bays so three K? But no, I want one of them to be decently equipped. Maybe make it... five thousand points?" Damn, it almost hurt to say that. Okay, Catherine. A three bay garage unit, coming right up! New Purchase: Sunwatcher Three Vehicle Bay with Mechanized Repair System Points Reduced to: 67,017 I always expected a big flash or something impressive when I bought something large. But instead the bays were just... there. There wasn''t even any displaced air, just the sense of something moving and suddenly the space before me was filled up and I was stepping back and away from a wall. A good chunk of the floor was now taken up by a curvy building of sorts, or section I guess, since it reached from floor to ceiling without any visible gaps. The walls were chrome, with a slight bluish tint to them, and where they turned, they did so with smooth, gentle curves. It reminded me a little of those modern building fronts corpos liked so much, only... this was done better. Organic, without really pushing it into the weird. "Nice," I said. There were three doors at the front, and unlike normal garage doors, these looked like they were designed to slide apart down the middle, each half slotting into the wall next to the entrance. The doors opened with a faint hiss and the humm of an electric motor, moving aside to reveal... Well, two of the bays were just that, bays. Large, mostly empty spaces. The floor had been replaced, and I noticed a few drains on the ground. The back wall had cabinets made of the same chrome-y metal and there was a station to one side that looked like it had an in-built pressure washer. There were hooks at the back, with a wall designed to hold dozens of tools, and a couple of long all-metal workbenches at waist-height. Honestly, it looked like it would be the kind of space where working would be fun. The repair bay was different. It reminded me a little more of something you''d see next to a Formula One pit stop. There were liftable platforms on the ground, controls on the walls, and several large servo arms hung from the ceiling, with different sorts of hands mounted to their ends. I saw what looked like grinders and welders there, some small enough that I imagined they could be used to snip a hair off someone''s head while others looked like they were designed to peel off tank armour. "Okay, yeah, that''s a good start," I said. "Now... I think I need a new mech, and I can feel this one hurting my wallet already." *** Chapter Eighty-Three - Cat of All Trades Chapter Eighty-Three - Cat of All Trades "The future of mechanized warfare is not walking mechanized vehicles. It will never be walking mechanized vehicles. Legs will never trump tracks! You fucking pissants!" --WarLightning Forums, 2028 *** I think, before you start spending points on a new mech, you should decide what you''re looking for in a new vehicle. I frowned at that. "What do you mean?" I asked. Wasn''t I just looking for a bigger, better version of my last mech? Generally speaking, most weapons can be divided into two broad categories. The specialized and the general-use. A handgun is a general-use weapon. It can use different ammunition and it''s almost always good to have on hand. A marksman''s rifle isn''t as useful in most situations, being too heavy and cumbersome to use, however, in its specific niche-use, it is far better to have than a normal handgun or even a more common sort of rifle. "Alright," I said with a slow nod. I could see where she was going with this. "And my previous mech was... what, a sniper rifle?" Somewhat. Thinking in strict binaries won''t be good for you, think of it more as a sliding scale between the two extremes. The Nyanzerfaust is a decent all-around platform with a very specialized main weapon and secondary armaments that had lots of versatility. I would say that it leaned more towards the ''Cat of all trades'' side of things. "Was that a pun?" I asked. I am the final arbitrator for what is funny. I groaned and rubbed at my face. "Sure, whatever. Just get to your point." My point is, do you expect to use the Nyanzerfaust again in the future? "Yeah," I said after thinking about it for just a second. I was a bit attached to it, and it wasn''t that fucked up. In that case, it might serve as a decent platform for general use. If you purchase another platform that can do everything the Nyanzerfaust does, but better, then you''ll never need it again. Seeing as how that might be wasteful, why not instead purchase something more specialized? That sounded... not too bad. "So a sniper mech? Maybe a melee mech? Maybe something way tankier, so that I can take on big fuckers without worrying when I get chewed on?" That would be three separate specialisations. How about all of them? "Isn''t that just generalizing again?" No. I mean why not purchase multiple mechanized platforms and a unit to transport them to the location where you want to use them? A carrier of decent size could ensure that you either have an arsenal of platforms available, or you could buy a single highly modular frame and switch out its specializations as you go. I leaned up against one of my new garage''s walls as I thought about it. A fuck-huge flying carrier that transported a half-dozen mechs like my current one, all ready to be deployed and with different sets of weapons to fuck enemies up in new and refreshing ways sounded awesome as hell. This one was much stubbier. Not as long, but way fatter. It had a sort of long, protruding cockpit in the middle, with two large angled gates next to it. That meant that the entrances for the mechs were all forward facing. The spine of the ship was actually lower than the two boxy containers for the mechs. Myalis had the model spin a little, and I took in the shape of it. From above, it was almost coin-shaped, with a protrusion for the cockpit at the front. It had small winglets, but there was no way it was aerodynamic enough to fly. "Weird looking thing," I said. It''s ancient, as I said. But the design features a roomy interior and it''s well-armoured for its size. Myalis had the diagram blow apart, showing the inside. The cockpit was actually pretty large, like a big SUVs, and there was a walkway from it to a small cargo room that had a bed and a small living space. I could access the two mech holding spaces from there. A longer, slightly more expensive version is also available for sixteen thousand. The model stretched out. This time adding two more mech holds and a much larger living space. The original version had an underbelly turret and a pair of smaller guns on top. Now this longer version doubled that until there were six hardpoints spread across the carrier. Room for four mechs was pretty nice, actually, and the living space was decent. "I think... I like bigger," I said. Fantastic! Then you''ll like this one, at least until you see the price tag. The image disappeared, and then was replaced by... "Is that a spaceship?" I asked. It is not technically capable of reaching space. The carrier was long. Twice the length of a semi-trailer, and about three times as wide, but still relatively low. It had three bay doors on each side, all of them numbered, and below that, six large mechanized legs. The damned thing was bristling with small guns sticking out of rounded pods stuck to its sides and top and bottom. Myalis had them wiggle around, showing their firing arcs, then the legs retracted back in and the bay doors opened. The thing looked like it belonged in a sci-fi movie. The model opened up, showing off the interior. There was a conference room, a bathroom, two areas with tight little bunk beds, and a bridge. The entire middle section had room for six mechs next to the bay doors, and two more tucked within. This model would cost you a neat thirty-seven thousand points, but it is quite capable in combat all on its own and can carry up to six mechanized units the size of your Nyanzerfaust onto a battlefield in relative safety. The model reassembled itself, then spun. It looked intimidating... of course, the front of it had a slightly... feline look to it, but not enough to outright say that it looked like a cat. Yeah, I could work with that. "A few changes..." I started. *** Chapter Eighty-Four - Modern Goddesses Chapter Eighty-Four - Modern Goddesses "There hasn''t been a single damned creative idea in years. It''s the same thing, over and over again. Sequels of sequels, mashing ideas together that have been done to death. A creative person comes, creates something new, and then the corporate dogs rip it to shreds and parade the corpse around for all to see! I give Inside Out Seven a 6 out of 10" --NeonMovieReviews, 2039 *** "What''s this one even called?" I asked as I gestured to the mech carrier. The changes I''d asked for weren''t too extreme, I don''t think. It mostly came down to adding sofas in the little command room in its centre and an integrated mini-fridge. At least, at first. I started to have fun with it after that. The centre-most space, designed to hold two mechs, was replaced by a small mobile garage. Nothing too complex, but enough that I could maybe fix a few easy things on the move. Myalis helpfully added a docking port for a repair drone as well, which was sensible. The ship... was it a ship? I frowned. This was way too big to just be called a car, or even a truck. It had more in common with a ferry than either of those. Yeah, ship felt right. Anyway, the ship had plenty of guns strapped around it. Six twin-barreled machine guns, in ball-shaped turrets that had wide angles of fire, and a single-barrel 105mm gun on an angular, flat turret at the top. Below were two large pods that could tilt in and out of view, each one able to hold sixteen rockets or small guided missiles that could be reloaded from the interior. It had less armament than a modern main battle tank, sure, but it could also fly and was armoured up the tits. Myalis shifted the design a little, making it somewhat less boxy. The armour gained more of an angular look to it, sharp edges and all. "Okay," I said. "Lay it on me, how much would this thing cost?" Currently, with the modifications you''ve brought to it, the Catbox will cost you-- "No," I said. "We''re not calling it that." It''s an objectively good name. "It''s objectively stupid," I replied. "Come on, we need a name with a bit of... you know, oompf to it. Something cool and... stronger?" And you expect to come up with this name yourself? I will defer to your greater erudition in the matter of nomenclature and your obviously superior vocabulary with regards to names with appropriate gravitas. I rolled my eyes. "Don''t be a bitch. We just need a cooler name than Catbox. The Nyanzerfaust has a silly name, but it''s got some syllables to it, and Gomorrah has her God''s Righteous Fury which is a name that has hairs on its chest." Felis Aegis? "Lucy would like that. But it''s too cutesy," I said. I see. How about the Clawhold? Or perhaps the Iron Pride? "Alright," I said. "But why''s it so damned expensive?" I blinked dust out of my eyes, then looked up at my new toy. The Bastion of Sekhmet was larger in life than I''d expected from the hologram. It looked like it was just a few centimetres from scraping against the ceiling. Legs larger than my old mech were deployed around its base, all six of them clamped onto the floor. I hadn''t asked Myalis about colour, and the hologram had been a glowy blue as they tended to be. The Bastion was a flat, light-absorbing black, except where its armoured panels had sharp edges. There, it was covered in gleaming gold panels and backlit by a pale blue light. I started to giggle to myself as I walked around it. It took a while. There were, as I''d noted, six large doors, slightly angled, with golden numbers embossed onto them. Each was more than large enough for me to walk my old mech into. "Ah, shit," I said as I finished my circuit. My Nyanzerfust had been like, twenty-thousand points. I wasn''t sitting at much more than that now, and if I spent what I had left I''d be point-broke. ... fuck, did I just buy a mech carrier without the points to fill it with mechs? Don''t worry, Catherine, I''m certain we can buy you at least one new mech. I frowned. "Are you reading my mind again?" You''re predictable. I wanted to disagree, but she was probably right. "Let me give the inside a tour first," I mumbled. My augs connected to the Bastion automatically, which was nice. I could open up any of the gates from a rather simple interface, and there were controls for the guns, the ship itself, and all sorts of knick knacks like the lights and stuff from a simple set of menus. Opening gate six, I stepped back as an unfolding ramp came down and gently touched the ground. "So, mechs," I said as I stepped in and started to look around. The bays weren''t entirely cut off from each other, but they weren''t sharing a large space either. There were thin walls with bracing between them, and folded up robotic arms designed to cling onto any mech parked in here so it wouldn''t bounce around. I have a simple suggestions for you. Since you seem to use your Nyanzerfaust as a scout relatively frequently, why not purchase a frame more capable in that regard? A lighter, faster-moving frame, with better stealth capabilities and a more powerful suit of sensors? "And cheaper?" By a certain number of points, perhaps. Uh-huh. A stealth mech wouldn''t be too bad, and something faster might be fun. It didn''t sound as safe as what I had already though. Then again, if it was meant to serve a different purpose, then did it matter? I walked deeper into the Bastion. There was a wide corridor down the spine of the ship, large enough for a mech to walk down and over to the garage-like installation at the very rear of the vessel. Myalis, being handy like that, took over one of the projectors in that room, same as the one in my other new garage, and she tossed up an image of a mech. It was another cat-shaped frame, only this one was lithe, thin, and with the proportions of a cheetah rather than an overstuffed lion like my Nyanzerfaust. It was lower to the ground at first, but then stood up in the hologram. I eyed it over as it spun slowly. A central cockpit, behind the ''head'' of the mech, with a seat designed to be laid down onto. Two small holes on either side of the chest by the front for missiles, a tail that could elongate itself as a sort of barbed whip, claws like on my last mech. The head had a mouth that could open up to reveal a small turreted gun, and there were two more mounted on the flanks that could unfold on a pair of long, articulated arms that let them aim in every direction. They were still rather small, belt-fed machine pistols, basically. "Yeah, that''s something," I said. "But... I want enough points for another upgrade to my wetware too. To keep Lucy happy." *** SCS Contest Winner: Isabelles Little Idea - By the WackyWombat! SCS Contest Winner: Isabelle''s Little Idea - By the WackyWombat! Isabella shot a quick glance at the kitchen, before stealthily crawling across to the living room. Jane was sitting at the table, doing ''Adult Stuff'', and she wanted to know what that was. Sure, she was only six, but she was learning new stuff from Sir Froggington every day, she could be helpful. After she made it to the couch she slowly peeked over the top, just enough to see the table. "Issi... what are you doing?" Jane asked, without looking up. "I''m being stealthed, so I can figure out what you''re doing?" the girl replied, without moving from her position. "The term is stealthy, little one, and I''m helping Evelyn prepare a list of supplies needed for her school." Isabelle blinked, "What''s a school?" she asked, popping up and throwing her arms over the back of the couch. Jane sighed, "It''s a place where kids come to learn, like you do with your frog..." "Sir Froggington," Isabelle corrected. "Yes, Sir Froggington. She''s planning on providing food as an incentive, and I''m just trying to decide if we can give them anything else." "She has bears, lots of bears." Isabelle replied, pointing at the garage. "She could give everyone their own bear." "It''s not that simple, pipsqueak," Jane replied, looking up with a smile. "Those are special bears, and she can''t give those away." "Boo! Why not?" Isabella asked, as she climbed over the back of the couch and jumped down into the kitchen. She pulled one of the kitchen chairs out, with a little bit of difficulty, before pulling herself up to sit. The little girl''s head barely cleared the top of the table, but she could still look Jane in the face from that position. "Bears, and foxes, and mooses, protect the people around here. I''ve seen it! Why can''t she give them to other people?" Jane smiled a little, she needed to in order to prevent herself from laughing at Issi''s serious face. "They could be dangerous in the wrong hands. That''s why Evelyn has taken so many precautions with them. If you can think of a really good way to give bears to the kids, without it being dangerous, I promise I''ll run it by Evelyn and the others. Deal?" "Deal!" Jane watched the little girl roll out of her chair, land on all fours, then take off at a full run heading towards her room. "So much like Evelyn at that age," she whispered with a small smile. After a second she turned back to the tablet, and resumed reviewing her notes. ~~ At the other end of the hallway Isabelle skidded to a halt in front of her bedroom, threw the door open, and sprinted towards the figure at the far side of the room. The three-foot-tall frog-shaped robot, with a top hat and monocle, watched her approach with interest. "What may I help you with today, Miss Isabelle?" "I need to figure out how to convince Jane and Teddy to give bears to other people!" the girl said, panting slightly. "Need to help other people!" "You mean the combat robots doing patrols around the premises?" the frog asked, with one raised eyebrow. Isabelle nodded excitedly. "I don''t think that''s possible, they''re far too dangerous!" "I told you sweetie, we can''t give them..." Jane started, before she noticed what Issi was pulling behind her. "What''s all this?" "They''re bears, I keep telling you," Isabelle replied. The girl walked right up to the table, pulling a small wagon full of plushies behind her. "Isabelle... where did you get all that?" Evelyn asked. "Your imaginary friend helped me. Everyone told me that ''the bears are too dangerous''," Issi replied, with air quotes. "But regular stuffies don''t help protect people, so we made these. They look just like your special bears!" She picked out two bears and handed them to the older girls. One was grey, wearing special forces armor, a perfect replica of Spooky, while the other was a little red fox in a ghillie suit, just like Bandit. "I don''t get it," Jane said, turning hers over, "they''re just stuffies." "Nu-uh, they''re stuffies with trackers and picnic buttons," the girl replied proudly. Evelyn and Jane turned to her and stared for a second. "You mean panic buttons, right?" Evelyn asked. "Yus! Panic buttons. That way the kids will be safer." "That''s great Issi, but I don''t think the older kids will..." Jane started, but was interrupted as Isabelle thrust something else into her hands. It was a tiny green bear with Xs for eyes, a itty bitty version of Deadbeat. "Keychains too!" "Isabelle, did you think of this by yourself?" Evelyn asked, turning the bear in her hands over. "Mostly, your imaginary AI helped too!" the girl replied, proudly. That earned her another look from Evelyn, this one a little shorter. "Right. Well... If it provides the local kids a little extra protection... I like it. We might have to make them a little weathered, so they don''t attract as much attention, but I don''t know anyone that would stoop as low as stealing a teddy bear around here. There are enough troops patrolling the area that backup would only be a minute or two away. Nice job, kiddo." Isabelle puffed out her chest for a moment, but broke down into giggles as soon as Evelyn tussled her hair. "They are cute..." Jane conceded. "And cuteness is the way," Isabelle replied, with a serious look on her face. "It''s the best way to solve all life''s problems." Jane smiled, "Not all of them, but maybe this one." Isabelle laughed, pulling a plushy that resembled Heavy, a massive polar bear in a bomb suit, out of the cart and hugging it. Adult problems weren''t that hard, she thought, not with the right point of view. A Cyber New Year A Cyber New Year Juliet pulled her bike up beside another parked right out on the deck, and when she hit the kill switch, the kickstand snapped out so she could relax for a minute, taking in the view. The house sat right on top of a skyscraper, a large, vaguely abstract cat with windows for eyes. The parking space was situated right between the ''legs'' of the cat, before the double doors leading into the home. The last glimmers of sunset painted the metal building in shades of ochre and crimson. It was beautiful, and the warm colors were at odds with the chilly air. She pulled off her helmet, shaking out her auburn hair, thankful for the synthetic tresses'' ability to maintain their style despite the punishment her helmet doled out. Setting it on her bike, she paused to look at herself in the mirrored visor. She wore a mostly-white sweater under her motorcycle jacket, glittering silvery threads interwoven with the soft fabric blend. "You think it''s too much?" Juliet picked at her sweater, brushing freshly fallen snow off of it. Angel''s reply was quick as though she''d anticipated the question, "Not at all! I think finding that sweater at Retro Luna was fate! Besides, it looks great on you." Juliet smiled, nodded, and got off her bike. "Thank you. You''re sure white is appropriate though? The jeans and the sweater aren''t too much?" "It is supposed to represent new beginnings and the purity of the new year. Like snow! It''s perfectly suitable." She lifted her seat to expose the storage compartment beneath. Her Texan sat there, ready for violence, but this wasn''t that sort of visit. She picked up the bottle beside it, straightening the gilded ribbon she''d tied around the neck. "You''re sure brandy is appropriate?" "It''s a warm, complex spirit that will go nicely after dinner." Angel paused for a moment, then added, "It''s better to show up with something than empty-handed. Besides, stop overthinking everything. You''re here for dinner with friends." "Right." Juliet shrugged out of her jacket, folded it into a ball, and stuffed it into the storage compartment. Closing it up, she grabbed the bottle and started toward the front door. She took two steps, paused, and frowned as she looked out over the deck again. "I keep getting this weird, I dunno, like, de?ja? vu feeling. Like we''re in a dream. You feel that?" "Have we ever shared a dream before? If you''re dreaming, I must be a part of it." Angel replied in a rather matter-of-fact tone. "Yeah... yeah, good point." Juliet shook her head, chuckling softly at the strangeness of it all. She was just visiting a friend; no need to overthink it. With the bottle tucked under one arm, she walked to the front door and rang the bell. *** A jingle played from the front of the house. It was a simple little tune, one fitting of the holidays. It seemed the first guest had arrived. "Wanna get that?" Lucy asked. She stood in front of the stove, one hand stirring a wooden spatula in a pot, and the other reaching out to slap the hand of an inquisitive kitten. Said kitten recoiled away from the plateful of cookies that''d just been pulled from the oven. "I got it." Cat stood up, stretched her back a bit until it popped, then took a moment to breathe it all in. The kitchen smelled fantastic. Lucy was still on her ''learning how to cook'' kick, but she''d really pushed herself tonight. There was a turkey in the oven, roasting away. Cranberry sauce sat on the stove, releasing a delicious scent. A large pot of mashed potatoes being worked over by a couple of the kittens sat off to the side. The New Year''s meal was slowly coming together. Cat herself had tried to help, but had been shoo''d away when she dropped an entire salt shaker into the cranberry sauce. Lucy hadn''t been impressed. By some miracle, she wasn''t kicked out of the kitchen outright. Shaking her head, she made her way through the house. The place still had a few decorating from the holidays yet to to be cleaned up. The kittens had put up colorful paper cutouts of trees and snowflakes here and there. The tree was even still up in the corner, which really didn''t vibe with the modern look of the rest of the house... but that was okay. There was always time to worry about cleaning up next year. A bit of jank was acceptable when it came to spreading holiday cheer. Cat found herself smiling crookedly as she made for the front door. A shadowy figure appeared through the glass, shifting from side to side. The first guest. "Coming!" Cat called out before she reached the door and pulled it open. She blinked, then smiled wider at the woman on the other side. "Hey! Juliet! Come on in, get out of the cold. How are you doing?" "Ah, hey there," Juliet said. The woman, dressed in white slim-fitting jeans and an almost garish but kind of incredible white and silver sweater, stepped in. She rubbed her hands together for warmth even as she scanned the room with a ''casual'' glance. Cat, of course, recognized the look. Anyone in the same field would. "Snowing still?" Cat asked, casually revealing her hands. It was the small, easy movements that mattered when establishing a peaceful setting. "Sorry. Yeah, it is." She had something tucked under her arm. Just as Cat was about to ask her about it, Juliet seemed to remember and held out a fancy bottle of liquor bedecked with a red-and-gold ribbon. Juliet''s eyes looked a bit dazed as a slight frown pulled at her lips. "Friend of a friend... You some kind of corpo-sec? Cat said... ''Blue Crusade,'' right?" "No?" Shiro immediately denied it, though she sounded unsure. "At least, I''m not supposed to be. It was supposed to be a one time gig. I just haven''t been able to get out." Juliet looked a bit confused as she slowly nodded her head. "Sure. So, where are you from?" "Aythryn City. It''s a shit hole of a place." Shiro and the other woman walked side by side towards a couch off to the side. A kitten sitting on it scooted over, giving them room. "But it''s home. You?" "Originally Tucson, but not for a long time. Haven''t really been able to set down too many roots with- uh- ''corporate interference''." The two shared an understanding look. "But I just got back from Luna City." "Luna City?" Shiro tilted her head. One of the passing kittens playfully followed her motion. "Like, on the moon? Never heard of it... What''s it like out there?" Juliet looked off into the distance. "It''s a city, so plenty about it''s awful. And yet? If you know where to look, it''s so, so beautiful. From a distance it''s a fairy tale. Up close, it''s dirty, like most things people make..." She trailed off, and then grinned wryly, shaking her head. "You meant space, right? Flying? It''s amazing, Shiro¡ªthe best thing ever." Shiro closed her eyes, trying to imagine what it was like. Maybe one day she''d make it there. A day far in the future though. She had enough problems planetside. Hopefully, with the New Year coming around, she''d solve most of them and finally be free of the chains weighing on her limbs. "Must be something." "It truly is... back when I first started, I didn''t think I''d ever get out of the scrapyard, let alone fly around the system." Juliet shook her head. "But who wants to think about old, unpleasant times?" "Then Happy New Years. May we make more, happier memories with each passing day." Shiro smiled brightly, her face turning radiant. Juliet returned the smile, and, as Shiro watched, her irises shifted from deep gray to bright silver. "Happy New Years." *** Cat and Lucy worked for a while longer, finishing up the rest of the food as dinner rapidly approached. Judging by the hungry growls from the other room, everyone was more than ready for food. Working was a bit generous for Cat. She''d been relegated to watching from the sidelines as Lucy worked the kitchen. She glanced out the door, seeing Shiro and Juliet talking as if they were old friends. It was good they were getting along. "It''s ready," Lucy called. "Help me bring it all in?" Everyone gathered around the tables as Cat and Lucy brought all the food over. Shiro and Juliet headed over from where they chatted about work off to the side, circling around the table. Cat started things off by raising a glass. "Before we enjoy this delicious food, a toast to the New Year!" Shiro joined in as she raised her own glass. A tired smile graced her lips, which made her entire face light up like a budding flower. "To the New Year! Didn''t think I''d make it." Juliet grinned as she raised her own glass. "I get it. Definitely had a few close calls of my own." "Then may we remain safe for yet another year." Cat smiled faintly as she shot a soft look at Lucy. "I know I, for one, wouldn''t have been nearly as successful or happy without the people by my side." Juliet''s eyes went distant, and her face twitched¡ªalmost smiling, then almost frowning¡ªas she thought about her year. It was clear there were some intense memories there, but, in the end, she smiled and nodded to Cat and then Shiro. "Nor would I." Shiro nodded along. Those few people by her side were small in number, though each was deeply important. Without them, it wouldn''t be the same. "Nor I. May the New Year be as kind to us as the last." "Then to those that support us!" All three raised their glasses for one final toast. *** Chapter Eighty-Five - M.E.O.W, Thats Right! Chapter Eighty-Five - M.E.O.W, That''s Right! Chapter Eighty-Five - M.E.O.W, That''s Right! "There''s no such thing as cyberpsychosis. That''s an urban legend started from the prevalence of certain pieces of literature and video game media. There is, however, cyber-dysmorphia, the discomfort brought about by having a limb or body part replaced by a synthetic. Strangely enough, some people are more comfortable when their synthetic replacement has less in common with their organic parts. The separating being clearer and more obvious makes it far more comfortable to handle than if the replacement prosthetic is poorly designed to look like the part it''s meant to simulate." --Lecture by Professor Wells, 2046 *** There''s actually another option as far as mechanized units go. "Oh?" I asked. I was still looking at the smaller, lighter mecha that was apparently within my now very much reduced price range. "What''s that?" Since you want to prioritize protection, what about a heavier, more armoured frame? It wouldn''t have the stealth capabilities of your previous machines, but it would make up for that by being significantly harder to damage. "Throw it up on the projector," I said with a gesture to the spinning image of the fast scout mech. It flicked away, and was replaced by a whole new cat-shaped mech. This one looked... fat? Like an overfed house cat. It was one chonky boy, with relatively short legs. The legs looked like they were mounted on pistons thicker than my thighs that could shift the entire thing upwards. This motherfucker was armoured though. Big plates of curved armour, looking like something off of a world war two tank. The fuck-off large gun on its back reinforced that image some. It was mounted in the centre-rear of the mech, in a large, boulbous turret. "How big is that gun?" I asked. 155 milimetres. I nodded, then looked over the rest of the cat. The ''paws'' were massive things, with fat wheels beneath them, those sorts of not-quite-ball wheels that some robots used, only they looked reinforced. They''d have to be to support all that weight on them. This unit, the Mechanized Exploration and Operations Walker Mk IV is designed to endure maximal amounts of damage, both kinetic and explosive, as well as from acidic attacks. The cockpit has a self-regulating environment, capable of being closed off from the outside world for years at a time. "Damn," I said. "What about other guns? I mean, that big one''s... big, but I wouldn''t wanna use that on a model one. Bit of overkill, you know?" Of course. The model shifted, and some of the armoured panels slid open to reveal spaces where gimbal-arms could move out of the mech. Two at the front, two at the rear. They held small machine-pistol looking things. Again with the low-calibre guns, but... yeah, they''d work against anything below the twenties. Another pair of sections at the front moved back, revealing two holes by the front ''shoulders'' of the mech, on either side of its head. These are a pair of 75 millimetre cannons. Small, but respectable. Their traversal is extremely limited, however. The mech has a self-detonating ERA system. Explosives that you can detonate the moment an enemy nears without damaging the mech itself. Holy shit... that was kinda rad. I worked my jaw, then narrowed my eyes. "Wait, what was its name again?" "I thought this shit would be lightweight?" I asked. Catherine, lightweight isn''t weightless. "How much?" I asked. I was ready to flinch at the answer already. Seven hundred and fifty-six points. That was... not that bad, actually. "Cheap," I said. That''s assuming you don''t mind taking something that will require some time to install itself. It''s nowhere near the cutting edge of what you could have, but I believe that it''s your best current option before moving into the full-body-replacement territory, in which case saving a few points may well be worth it. Yeah, that made sense. "Okay... yeah, let''s do it." New Purchase: Graphene-magnesium bone sheathing Points Reduced to: 24,561 New Purchase: Nano-regenerative surgical suite Points Reduced to: 24,261 A decently large box appeared before me, about as big around as a basketball, though it was a little flatter. I opened it, and discovered a sort of plastic... bin thing, with a large strap running around it. "Is this... a fucked up fanny pack?" I asked as I lifted it. The plastic shell was hard-ish, with some squishy padding on the interior. Place it around your lower waist, beneath your clothes. I''ll alert you once it''s ready to be disposed of. I frowned, but did as she said, tugging up my shirt to expose my stomach and back, then biting the hem to hold it in place while I fit the pack on. The belt was wide but just large enough that I could buckle it on the front. "Feels weird," I said. It wasn''t that heavy, but it was certainly obvious that it was there. You''ll only need to wear this for a few days. It''s hygienic enough, and you can shower with it on. Tense up for a moment. "Huh?" I asked, then I tensed up as several pin-like things poked me in the back. "Ouch, fuck!" I snapped. There, incisions complete! Congratulations on your ongoing bone improvement procedure! "Thanks," I said flatly. Have you come to a decision with regards to the mechs? "Hmm... not yet. Lemme ask Lucy what she thinks. Plus she''s gonna wanna have a look at the Bastion too. It''s kind of a big thing, right?" Lucy would help, because she was the best, even if she didn''t know jack or shit about this kind of thing. She''d probably pick the one that she felt was cutest, or the one that would keep me safer. Eh, either way was fine by me. *** SCS Art Contest! Hey Everyone! Exciting news today, I''m announcing the first ever SCS Art Contest! The contest will run for one month (until February 15th) The contest will be split into three categories. SCS art (Prize for first and Second place), SCS FF related art (Prize for first) and AI SCS art (Prize for first). Rules You may enter multiple categories, but have to submit different pieces for each category. Ensemble pieces with SCS and FF can be entered in either category, but NOT both.Please only enter your own art, discovered art is not accepted. (Feel free to share in discords, with the artist''s permission)Entries must be hosted on the internet. You will be expected to submit a link to your art, and the piece must stay up until the entries are judged. (Both image hosting sites, and personal websites are acceptable)AI generated art will only be accepted in the AI category. It is not accepted for SCS and FF categories.If you submit to the SCS or FF category, and win, you should be prepared to share one or more work in progress sketches of your work. This is to make it harder for bad actors to sneak AI work into the other categories.Contest will run from Jan 15th to midnight on Feb 15th, 2025Winners will be determined by vote by the RavensDagger patreon supporters. Winners will be contacted by the email address provided in the submission form. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Prizes:$250 for the main SCS prize$150 for the second place$100 for the SCS-fanfic fanart prize$50 for the best AI art If you''re ready to enter, then you can post your artwork here: LINK!No?v(el)B\\jnn Forward by the Author Forward by the Author Ohh, I love writing ''Forward by the Author'' it sounds so posh! Anywhozzle~ it''s time for Stray Cat Strut''s eight volume! That''s... a large number! We''re slowly sneaking our way over to the double digits! I want to try something with this one. My writer-senses tell me that it''s a good idea. It''s a way to progress and elevate the narrative, to expand the world, to make the known characters deeper and more interesting and more alive. My author-senses tell me that it''s a terrible idea. That it will put a strain on my readership, that it''ll slow down an already relatively slow pace, and that it''ll be a lot of work to write something that''ll only satisfy the people willing to put in the effort to push through their initial apprehension. Basically, I''m kind of divided on what to do with this volume, and so... I''ll try to be smart about it. I hope you trust me, but I''m also trusting you to be honest with me. We have some more issues in the story to tackle. Cat does, that is. But I think a lot of these are kinda... boring, on the surface? So I want to introduce new things and a few new issues that''ll eventually lead into another long arc like the Phobos one! I want to do this by introducing two things that readers hate. A timeskip (of like, 5 in-story days, so nothing bad. We''re not pulling a Worm, or a One Piece here) and then I want to split the story''s focus in three directions. The first and main line remains with Cat. She''ll be the primary focus and narrator of her own story. The second line focuses on Lucy, showing her interacting with Cat, but also with outside people and forces. So... yeah, a few odd Lucy chapters every so often. Hopefully not too many to distract from the main story. I might also sprinkle in a few other POVs in this one since the goal of this volume is to set up a bunch of new arcs. If I do it well, it''ll be awesome. If I mess it up... uh, I think I can still pull it back, as long as people let me know. I''ll write this with several escape clauses built-in. Anyway... yeah, please enjoy this next volume! If I do my job right, it might well be the best one yet! *** Book Eight - Prologue Prologue "Catherine?" Lucy asked as she stepped out of the elevator into the parking garage and was instantly hit with some regret. Why wasn''t she wearing pants? Why did she go down to the parking garage in flip-flops? Why didn''t she at least have socks on? "Fuck, it''s cold down here," she muttered to herself as she crossed her arms for warmth. The doors into the garage were open on either end of the parking space, and with so few cars here... that left very little to stop the wind. Cat''s new carrier, the Bastion of Sekhmet, was sitting not too far away, serving as a wall against the freezing, humid air coming in from outside. She walked fast, not towards the ship, but rather towards the addition Cat had installed within the side of the parking garage. Lucy frowned as she walked over. They needed more words to call things than ''garage'' because saying that Cat had a garage in the garage just stripped the word of all meaning. "Cat?" Lucy asked as she came up to the entrance of the garage-garage. This wasn''t some back-alley fixer shop like the sort where folks would come to have their DRM''d parts cracked and replaced. This was a high-tech samurai''s garage. There were wall-mounted armed... gizmos and... lifts and tools and stuff. Lucy knew that she wasn''t a stupid woman, but she also knew that she didn''t know jack about any of this stuff. Cat seemed to be in her element, though. Her girlfriend was sitting on a little stool with wheels, head bobbing in time to some music that Lucy couldn''t hear. She had large headphones on, strange ones that covered both her human ears and the cat ears atop her head. In front of her was her old mech, the Nyanzerfaust. The jacks set into the floor were raised up to cradle the mech''s chest so that none of its legs touched the ground. Cat was at one of those, humming to herself while fiddling with a long row of wires nestled inside the leg. Bits of armour were placed on the floor around her, and one of the wall-mounted gimbals was holding out a platter with more parts on it right next to Cat, well within reach. She gestured, and another servoed arm brought down a selection of tools that Cat looked over for a moment before picking from. Lucy just watched. It was strange, seeing Cat so deep in the zone, focused on her own little thing. She was used to seeing Cat getting things done, it was one of the things that made Lucy love her, but usually it was more... big and brash than this. She couldn''t complain. This was a cute hobby, not that she''d tell Cat that she thought it was cute. If Cat asked, then Lucy would tell her that having a big strong butch mechanic girlfriend was the hottest thing ever. In reality, she was just happy that Cat had something keeping her home sometimes. Home and busy with something she seemed to genuinely enjoy. "Piece of shit," Cat swore as she fiddled with something small. A little round nut thing fell and rolled a bit. Cat leaned to the side to pick it up, but Lucy was faster. "Here," she said. Cat jumped slightly on seeing Lucy''s hand, then she looked up with wide eyes and her surprise turned into a genuine smile. "Lucy," she said before tearing the headphones off. Lucy picked up the slight rumble of some metal music from around Cat''s neck. "Didn''t notice you coming in. Are you just wearing a t-shirt?" "It''s what I was sleeping in," Lucy said. "Like it?" "You''re gonna catch a cold," Cat said with a shake of her head. Her eyes were on the effects of the cold, however. "Yeah, I bet," Lucy grinned. She crossed her arms again for emphasis. "Having fun with the mech?" "Huh? Oh, yeah," Cat said as she turned back to the machine. "This leg isn''t too bad. I didn''t think I''d need to poke at it at all, but see these lines here? They''re like super-thin hydraulic lines that go down to the toes and ankles. A few of them got crimped when the mech got thrown around. So I flushed the system out and I''m replacing them as I go. Kind of a pain in the ass, honestly, but I can see why it''s made this way?" "Sure," Lucy said. "Sorry, I know this isn''t the most interesting shit," Cat said. "I still remember all of the jingles. Fuckers had that down to an art." That had been the centre of Lucy and Cat''s own education, a series of free online courses that the orphanage had had them take and try to pass. There was some value to it, but all of the math lessons had to do with buying sponsored products, the creative writing was always about the joy of buying something that the company made, or how to write a good review, and the science lessons were always geared towards fast-tracking them to being able to work in a factory. Mostly it was safety lessons. "I kinda wanted something... better? Anyway, I put out some feelers, and I got a reply today. Someone called me, actually." "An actual call?" Cat asked. "Yeah, not AI. It was the vice principal of CIAL. You know, that big university in the middle of the city?" Cat leaned back. "Old McGill?" "That''s its old name," Lucy said. People still called it that, but that hadn''t been the university''s name in a while. It was now the Corporate Institution for the Advancement of Learning. But that was a mouthful. "So, what did the vice principal have to say? Isn''t he like... important?" "I guess so? I guess someone noticed that I was putting feelers out, and then it got up to him? Anyway, he was interested in helping." "Bullshit," Cat said. "Yeah, obviously," Lucy said. "But he was pretty honest about it. The school has two campuses. One''s this older mega-building in the middle of the city, but the other''s their research wing and it''s a huge mini-city to the north of New Montreal. There''s a train that runs between them." "Okay?" "Yeah, turns out, they got messed up by shit during the Phobos Incident. A building folded and a lot of students died." "And you want to send the kittens there?" Cat asked. "No, but the vice principal wants a samurai student, and he''s willing to waive a lot of trouble for it," Lucy said. "Including getting a bunch of brats some one-on-one tutoring from actual teachers at their home and allowing students to basically skip ahead and take classes without all the prerequisites." Cat leaned back. "Huh... I did want you to get out more. It''s not healthy staying at home all the time." Lucy rolled her eyes, happy that Cat couldn''t see it. She was doing this to get Cat out of the house, not the other way around. "It''s up to you, really. There''s a lot of classes. There''s one for cooking that actually sounds kind of nice. Maybe I''ll start a restaurant one of these days?" "I don''t know if I can afford that many bribes." Lucy smacked Cat on the shoulder. "Just think about it. It could be fun!" Cat hummed, then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. We''ll have to go visit the place first, see what it''s like and how desperate they are. I guess I need an excuse to leave the house too." "Good! Now, speaking of my excellent cooking skills, I''m making mac and cheese." "With hot dogs?" Cat asked. "Only because I love you." *** Chapter One - Armored Elegance Takes the Stage Chapter One - Armored Elegance Takes the Stage "The state of education has never been better. Our profits have reached highs that we haven''t seen since the early 2020s!" --Richard Piece, Department of Shareholder Satisfaction, Harvard, 2048 *** I wasn''t sure if I was onboard with the whole... ''go to school'' thing. In fact, I was pretty sure it wasn''t going to work out for me. Anything I could learn in a class, I could have Myalis pump straight into my brainpan, and while I was a little nervous about shoving raw information into my brain, it was relatively easy. That, and I''d know that whatever information Myalis gave me would probably be accurate. Or accurate enough to Protector standards, and I trusted the alien''s understanding of science and shit a whole lot more than I trusted humanity''s. So, lots of cons. But there was one big pro. Lucy really wanted to go to a fancy school. I''d known it forever. Half the shows we pirated and binged were school dramas. Sometimes ancient pre-Antithesis TV shows that showed an idyllic world that I wasn''t sure was really how the past had been, and sometimes more modern slop. Modern slop meant shows that were designed around promoting some new product. Characters would break from the drama to talk up their brand new Mansung Cosmos S-series smart phone, or talk about how their clothes were the most fashionable shit. Then the show would move on. Half the actors were AI and often so were the backdrops, but that didn''t stop the shows from being... somewhat entertaining, if you purposefully turned your brain off and didn''t look for issues. Lucy used to eat that slop up. We''d lay down together, pressed in close on a mattress barely large enough for one person, with a tablet taped to the bunk above. For a few hours, at least, we could just enjoy the stupid while forgetting that we were hungry. So... maybe it wasn''t just Lucy that had a soft spot for school stuff. "So, what are the chances that Lucy''s doing all of this to distract me?" I asked. I was waiting by the Bastion of Sekhmet, the bulkhead door leading right into the cabin open behind me. It was a bit chilly in the garage, but I kind of liked it. Chilly in New Montreal made you forget that the air stank of hydrocarbons. The chances are rather high. But I suspect that Lucy''s intentions run a little deeper than just distracting you. I believe that she wants to reintegrate you into society. "What? Like releasing a wild animal?" I asked. What an apt description. I rolled my eyes. "Come on, that can''t be it. I haven''t been that bad, have I?" You have been uncharacteristically calm since the end of the Phobos incident. Your point-earning has been at an all-time low, and you haven''t spent as much time with your peers as you usually would. However, a lot of these things aren''t truly concerns when taking into account broader circumstances. Lucy snorted. "Sure you''re not," she said. "Are we flying this big thing over?" "The Bastion? Yeah, I don''t exactly have a normal car, unless you wanna take the bike?" Lucy shrugged. "It''s not exactly discreet." I glanced back. Yeah, landing at the school in a vehicle longer than a hovering semi-trailer covered in armour and guns was a bit much, but also... "It sends a message," I added. "What message is that?" Lucy asked. "We have aerial superiority. Good way to avoid bullies and shit, I think." Lucy blinked, then laughed. I found myself smiling, because Lucy''s laugh was just like that, a tinkling, scratchy laugh that practically forced me to join in. "You don''t think I can handle a few bullies?" she asked. "Hmm, maybe letting you lose in a school full of innocents isn''t a good idea," I said. "You might hurt someone." Lucy poked me in the short ribs. "Meanie. Should we get going? Is there even a seat for a second person in this thing?" "You could just stand in the back. You know, there''s an entire bedroom in this thing," I said as I patted the side of the Bastion''s entrance. "But yeah, there''s a seat free in the cockpit." Lucy followed me in. The Bastion had a small corridor that ran from one side to the other and joined in with the long passage between the cockpit at the front and the large bays at the rear where mechs were meant to be parked. I escorted Lucy through all the way to the cockpit, the door sliding open as we got close. The cockpit was relatively small. A single seat in the centre was surrounded by a curved screen, and there were about a million buttons and knobs all within reach of the pilot''s seat. Fortunately, there were two more bucket seats in the rear of the cockpit, both of them out of reach of anything important, button-wise. This was a vehicle meant to be piloted by one person on their own. Lucy hummed before picking which of the two seats to take, then she fumbled with her belts for a bit while I took my place in the pilot''s seat. I tapped an activation button on my augs and the seat slid forwards, the yoke coming up and settling between my knees. A few flicked switches later and the entire vehicle hummed to life. The AC came on, bathing us both in fresh, cool air, and the screen lit up with a wide-lensed view out the front of the mech. "Alright," I said as I gently raised the thrust and we started to hover off the ground and inch forwards. "Got the address before we head out?" "Ah, yeah, one sec," Lucy said. I got a ping from her a minute later and plugged the address into the ship''s GPS. "Okay," I said as I pushed the thrust in and we started to slide ahead a little faster. "Let''s see if this fancy school''s ready for us," I said. *** Chapter Two - It Doesnt Say No Parking Chapter Two - It Doesn''t Say No Parking "In the sprawling metropolises of 2152, the Parking Enforcement Authority wields power rivaling the megacorporations themselves. Equipped with drone fleets, AI surveillance, and jurisdiction over the most valuable commodity¡ªspace¡ªthey issue fines that bankrupt families and impound vehicles with surgical precision. No one dares contest their authority; to cross them is to risk social credit annihilation and permanent vehicular exile. In a world of endless expansion, their control over where you stop determines if you can ever go. Starring AI recreations of Humphrey Bogart, Katharine Hepburn, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Scarlett Johansson!" --Trailer for Post-post-post Cyberpunk movie: the Car Cop, coming to theaters June 2057 *** There was a problem that I hadn''t considered when I bought the Bastion and that was that the damned thing was fucking enormous. Being big was mostly a feature. It was a transport, and its largeness meant I could fill it with several tons of angry warmech. That was cool as fuck. What wasn''t as cool was trying to find parking. "C''mon, there''s not a single open space?" I complained as I flew a third slow circle around the parking building on the edge of the campus. The CIAL campus was a city. A small one, but a city all the same. It was just to the west of New Montreal, with the Saint-Louis between the campus and the massive metal pillars holding up the plates that New Montreal sat on. There were a few bridges across, and some of New Montreal spilled out on this side of those bridges, but for the most part, the campus was its own thing. That meant several hundred large buildings set up in neat, corded rows, then a larger, proper campus with a dozen more buildings that couldn''t stick to a single style. They were mostly all glass and steel, with gardens around them and lots of walking space, but some of them were a little more post-post modern, looking like abstract bunkers. Very cool and all, and probably inspirational to the sheep that went to class in one of those every day, but not at all helpful with my current issue. "Can we leave the Bastion hovering?" Lucy asked. "I mean, I guess, but I don''t want to," I said. Then I shrugged and pulled up and away from the parking building. The roof was covered in cars, which left no room to park in, but mostly I was concerned that the Bastion was a smidge too heavy. Turning the ship around, I drove it out towards the central campus, then reached out and pulled the lever to unfold the landing legs. I lowered the ship down gently, and came to a careful landing. I was pretty sure I''d just parked between a massive library and the school''s administrative building. Part of me hoped that I wasn''t accidentally sending a message by placing an obviously dangerous vehicle right in front of the skyscraper that served as the school''s admin building, but if they decided to read into it, that was on them. "Cat!" Lucy complained. "There are paving stones out there. You''ll crack them." "Huh?" I asked. Lucy glanced at me from the corner of her eye and grinned. That... that was my family name, not hers. I glanced away and tried not to allow myself to blush. "Hi! You''ve got to be Vice Principal Imgreen," she said while extending a hand to shake. The vice principal shook, then he looked at me, flushed a little, and just bobbed his head in something like a nervous bow. "It''s a pleasure to meet you both. When I heard that there was even the faintest potential for us to have a samurai student, why, I was overjoyed." "Really?" I asked. "Of course! It would be the third time in CIAL''s history that an alumni of the university becomes a samurai," he said. That was... actually, kind of a lot? Samurai weren''t exactly growing on trees. There were maybe a couple million of us on Earth? I wasn''t sure about raw numbers, but for more than one to come from the same school was pretty big. Not like, statistically impossible or anything, but still, a lot. "That''s cool," I said. "I''ll have to look into them." "Ah, yes," he replied with a grin that looked as fake as his hair. The vanguard in question have passed away. The most recent one in 2044. Only one of them was actively a student of this school when they were chosen to become a Vanguard. The other had left the academic lifestyle some time prior and is only considered an alumni post-mortem. Now that was appropriately dark and kinda fucked up. It was a little weird that it reassured me. "Please, follow me, I''ll show you around the campus. Ah, you may leave your... vehicle parked where it is, of course. We can assign some campus police to watch over it." "Nah, that''s fine. It''s got point-defence weapons," I said. The explanation didn''t seem to reassure the poor guy, and I think that Lucy caught on because she was holding back giggles. "Anyway, show us this campus of yours. I think Lucy''s interested in your... cooking classes? What''s different about cooking classes at a university compared to like, at a community centre anyway?" The vice principal''s mouth worked, but he rallied and was soon going on a spiel that I had a hard time caring about. The things I did for love. *** Chapter Three - Electives in Future Tribulations chapter three - electives in future tribulations "cooking isn''t just about feeding people¡ªit''s about shaping the future. we splice flavors like genes, sear tradition with plasma torches, and plate memories with ai precision. a great dish isn''t made in the kitchen anymore; it''s engineered in the soul. --cook-o-tron, the at home ai chef, 2029 *** the cial campus was bigger than i imagined. it encompassed the entirety of the little city around the main campus and about half a dozen much larger buildings around the central park area. these were the picturesque, big, modern buildings that looked good on postcards, but they weren''t the whole of it. the campus extended below-ground as well. "this entire area, formerly the perrot island area, was slated to be new montreal''s first mega-city platform. however, the project was cancelled early in its development. the university saw an opportunity, purchased the plate, and has since used it as its primary campus," the vice principal said. he tapped one of his shiny loafers against the paved road we were on. "it doesn''t look like it, but there is actually a single-floor level beneath the entire campus." "that''s kinda big," i said. it wasn''t an exaggeration either. the campus had to cover a dozen square kilometres or something. there was plenty of grass and a few parks, and lots of roadways going around. "what about those buildings over there?" i was pointing to the rows upon rows of cookie-cutter complexes. there were rather blocky buildings, maybe ten stories high, and all placed in neat rows. "the dormitories? ah, yes, we have dormitories here capable of housing three hundred thousand." "you have that many students?" lucy asked. "oh? no, forgive me. that''s the entirety of the campus population, and while yes a majority of that number is made up of our student body, a large portion is taken up by our staff. administrators, teachers, janitors, maintenance. we have our own police, fire and combat forces, three small on-site hospitals and several clinics. the cial campus is a city unto itself, and most of our citizens live in those buildings right there." "wild," i said. "of course, there are several buildings set aside where the dormitories have... an increased amount of room and access to greater creature comforts. for the discerning student that wishes for more space to rest and relax in," the vice principal said. "do any students drive in?" lucy asked. "from outside of the campus, i mean?" "oh, certainly. there''s a nominal parking fee, as well as a monthly cost for use of the campus road. not that we would impose such a thing on you, of course." the entire time we were chatting, the vice principal was leading us along through the central part of the campus. it was... a nice spot, i''ll admit. very open, with benches and a few trees providing shade. there was a nice hill there, with green grass where a few students were laid out and taking in what little sun came through the overcast sky. "i see. i''m certain we can work something out. and yourself, miss stray cat?" "just cat''s fine," i said. "and... uh..." crap, i hadn''t thought this far ahead. i''d mentioned engineering, but like... fuck me, that was probably an order of magnitude more than i was ready for. did someone need to have like, basic math down before they started to figure out engineering? i wasn''t even sure i actually understood algebra. i''ve completed a full audit of this institution''s educational material, downloaded all of the online lessons and pirated content, and read all of the textbooks. "that was fast," i said while raising a hand to the side of my head to indicate that i was in a call. it took longer for your faster neuron to fire. in any case, might i suggest that you take on a physical combat class? there are several, including at least three that i think you''d find enjoyable and useful in the long term. my other suggestion would be to take the same political leadership course as lucy. there are better versions available, but i believe that the course itself might not necessarily be wasted on you. and it would mean staying with lucy. "sorry about that," i said. "my ai was auditing your course load. you guys have some pretty decent self-defence courses, yeah? martial arts and the like?" "we do," the vice principal said. "a lot of our students go on to become officers in various paramilitary organizations, or simply want to have a solid background in physical defence." he led us through the building and up a set of stairs before we came onto a doorway that he casually opened. i was hit by a wave of strong smells. spices and cooked meats and other tasty odours all mixed together rather chaotically. we were in a kitchen. a massive one, with several dozen cooking stations set up in neat rows. pots and pans hung from the ceiling and there were at least fifty stoves being attended to by students wearing large white aprons over their uniform blouses. a man at the far end of the room was in a more traditional cook''s outfit, pleated hat and all, and he was currently giving a cowering young man an entire heap of shit while pointing at a plate with something that looked like fish on it. the back end of the room, where we were, had some open space with rows of tables and stools behind them facing an electronic blackboard. so the room was split down the middle. half massive kitchen, half normal classroom. "let''s not interrupt needlessly," the vice principal said. "this is a third-year cooking class. each of these students, assuming they pass of course, will go on to become a professional chef. we even have a very respectable post-graduation job placement system in place!" "well, i don''t know about being professional," lucy said. "but i think it might be fun all the same! can we check out the rest of the school? oh! and do you have cool clubs too?" "of course! and yes, we have some very nice extra-curricular groups here at cial," he replied. what a salesman. i was working hard not to roll my eyes over here. *** Chapter Four - Revolutionary Girl Lucy chapter four - revolutionary girl lucy "attendance in higher education has gone through some periods of highs and lows. counting from the start of the 20th century when education started to become more prominent throughout the western sphere, we see a sharp rise in the number of people getting educated for longer, with dips during the great depression, the two world wars, and a massive rise during the eighties and into the nineties. in the 21st century, we see a similar dip during the 2027 great depression, and then a sharper fall in the 2030s, with a subsequent rise during the early 2040s to where we are today. we haven''t quite recovered to mid-2010s levels, but we''re quite close." --rise and fall of the educated, a thesis, 2051 *** "so, what did you think?" lucy asked as we stepped back into the bastion. "eh," i said with a shrug. the vice principal had a few things to show us after the cooking class, but the other classes were out at the moment, and so there really wasn''t too much to show except for some empty training facilities and some big rooms that had nothing in them. we did meet with one professor, the hardass teacher who did combat training, and i kind of liked that bit, but... it wasn''t huge? "yeah, i had the feeling you''d feel that way," lucy said. she didn''t sound disappointed or upset about it. "i mean, yeah. but i don''t mind coming over a few times," i said. lucy wanted this, and it was hardly a huge sacrifice. though it did beg the question. "so, did you just wanna do the cooking thing, and that''s it?" "hmm," lucy hummed. "yes and no. did you know that a lot of revolutions start in schools?" i blinked, pausing halfway to the bridge. "uh.. i guess?" i said. "what''s that got to do with learning how to cook?" lucy snorted, and then she wrapped her arms around my middle and dropped her head into the crook of my neck. "silly," she declared. "the cooking thing is an excuse." "you''ve got plans, then?" i asked. "i''ve got ambitions," she replied. "and while i appreciate your help, i think i can do a lot to push them forwards all on my own. i just need to be in the right place and at the right time, with maybe the right contacts." "and do you care to share those with me?" i asked. for a moment a small part of me worried that lucy might have ambitions that didn''t include me, but that struck me as unlikely. "mhm!" she said before breaking the hug only to squeeze past me and into the cockpit. she flumped onto one of the seats at the back, the opposite one from the seat she''d taken on the way here. "so! schools foster revolution. do you know why?" "i have no idea," i said. "yeah, same. at least, i didn''t know. but i''ve been looking into it for a while now. you remember the kittens in burlington?" "it''s like, riot cops and normal security. school police. not an army. they were really not equipped for tackling aliens," lucy said. "so there were a lot more deaths than necessary." "how did the school survive the global incursion, then?" i asked. new montreal had a wall all the way around it now. "lots of favours, i think," lucy said. she shrugged. "there''s a lot of important people that went to school here. this is where they made lots of their earliest connections." i eyed lucy for a moment. "are you sure you don''t want to be mayor?" i asked. lucy poked herself in the cheek and tilted her head to the side. "i''m too cute for politics. tee-hee." i shuddered. "don''t ever do that again," i said. lucy''s laugh was more genuine after that. "sorry! but maybe later? i think i''d either just get chewed up and spit out, or i''d be shoved into a corner where nothing i say matters, like the last few presidents and prime ministers. just a punching bag for the media, you know? i''d need years of connection-making before i can even start going down that route." years of connection-making that she could very well do in the place known for making connections. i shook my head. my girlfriend was scary sometimes. it was also real hot. "you know, if you get into politics, you''ll have to start wearing pantsuits," i said. "oh? is that a bad thing?" lucy asked. "no. very much the opposite. who doesn''t like a lady in uniform?" lucy snorted. "c''mon! we left the kittens at home unwatched for a few hours. we''ll probably come back to find the entire building burnt to a crisp and the kids complaining that they''re hungry." yeah, that sounded about right. "alright, alright," i said as i took my seat and started to flick on the bastion''s engines. a minute or so later we were pulling up and away from the campus. i... suspected we''d be coming back here soon enough. which probably meant finding a more appropriate place to park in. maybe they''d give me one of those stickers i could slap onto the windshield that let me get access to their parking garage? i resisted the urge to laugh. i didn''t know if they had parking police here, but if they did, then the poor idiots would need a serious raise. "what''re you laughing at?" lucy asked. "ah, nothing smart," i said as i kicked us off the ground and started to rotate the bastion in the general direction of home. "nothing smart at all." *** enhance your reading experience by removing ads: remove ads now Chapter Five - I Really Wanna Visit Your Home Chapter Five - I Really Wanna Visit Your Home "Wisdom is a relic. Truth is a malfunction. The only things that matter are what can be sold, stolen, or weaponized. Ideas don''t pay rent. Morals don''t keep the lights on. And if knowledge was ever power, it got outbid a long time ago." --Cute-cute cocobooty, Vtuber, 2032 *** It wasn''t often that I considered visiting someone at their home, but I was willing to make an exception for Gomorrah. Mostly because she lived an elevator''s ride away and I didn''t actually need to step out of the house to visit her. I rode the elevator down to her floor, then stepped out into a sort of mini lobby space that Gomorrah had created. There was a bench to one side, and a nice front door with a mat on the ground before it that read Welcome in some fancy script. It was kind of cozy, I supposed, though I was keenly aware that there were two turrets mounted to the ceiling, their nozzles pointed right at me. There was a little flickering light at the end of each, a flame no bigger than what a lighter could put out. A pilot light, I think? Was the bench and that little mat fireproof? They''d have to be if Gomorrah ever decided to cook a door-to-door salesman one day. I walked up to the door and rapped my knuckles against it in a quick ''shave and a haircut'' pattern, then I sat back on my heels and waited. It took a minute, but eventually I heard movement on the other side, and the door swung open. Delilah stood there, a frown in full view as she took a moment to scan me up and down. "Catherine?" she asked. "Yo!" I said. "I brought cookies." Apparently, people with houses brought each other gifts when visiting, which was something I was all for since people kept showing up at my place. I presented Delilah with a box of store-bought cookies, and she took them by instinct. "Uh, thank you?" she said. "What are you here for? Did you want to step in?" "Sure? If I''m not bothering? You and Franny weren''t--" "Franny isn''t here right now," Delilah cut in before I could imply anything amusing. "She''s taking care of some things. What''s the visit for?" "Can''t I just stop by to say hi?" I asked as I stepped in. I couldn''t help but swivel my head around and take the place in. It was a very different style than my place. A lot more... sleek modernism. Blacks and whites all over, bright fluorescent lighting, and minimalist furniture. The living room I saw had a few sofas that looked like cushioned slabs and a fireplace that looked a bit too large for its own good. Delilah eyed me for a moment. "I suppose. But I''m inclined to suspect that something is up." "Literally nothing is up," I said as I followed her past the living room and into her kitchen. It was nice and spacious, larger even than the one at our place, but it looked... kind of empty? I guess it was because it was so clean. Not that ours was that messy, it''s just that Lucy left out some of the spice racks and frequently-used tools, and it made the space feel lived-in and used. I wasn''t sure if this kitchen here had even been used to boil water yet. "Well, you''ve been quiet for nearly a week, which is the longest time I''ve ever not seen you causing trouble," Delilah said as she sat on a stool. She gestured for me to take another and I did. "Are you really just laying back and taking a proper break?" "Eh, so so? I''ve been fixing my mech, which is taking a surprisingly long time. It got chewed up good, you know? Gonna be a while before it''s back to a usable shape. And other than that, I don''t know what I have to really do. That''ll probably change soon, though." "Philosophy," she replied. It was incredible how a single word could almost put me asleep all on its own. "The philosophy of burning things?" I asked. "Or is that more a therapy thing?" "You jest, but I''m serious. We have great power. Some would say that that power comes with a moral cost. That we have to use that power to assist and improve the lives of others." "I don''t know. Every oligarch I''ve ever seen had had great power, and they seemed pretty happy on their super yachts and mega mansions," I said. "Some would say that they''ve failed." "Some people wouldn''t be heard over the live orchestra they can hire to play a symphony every time they take a shit," I countered. Delilah sniffed. "And this is why we need philosophy." "Sure," I said. "So, did you find anything more interesting than ''rich people bad'' in your studies, or was that the whole of it?" "No, it''s more than that," she said. "How much do you actually care?" "I mean... I came here, with cookies and everything. I don''t just do that for people I''m not friends with, you know?" I tried. Delilah eyed me for a few long seconds, then shook her head. "You''re a weird woman, Catherine." "That''s not very nun-like of you to say," I said. "Currently, I''m studying the philosophical principles of interconnected ignorance. It''s less a philosophy and more... a repeated observation about human nature, I suppose. Essentially, it posits that at certain times, a group of people or a network collectively lacks knowledge or hold a misconception as truth, and due to their shared ignorance, they reinforce their belief in the wrong conjecture." I nodded sagely. "I know most of those words," I said. "Just not in that order." "Yes, I think the ignorance part of the entire idea is one you encapsulate well," she shot back. "Hey now, I can at least tell when I''m being insulted, most of the time," I said. "So, what''s all that got to do with the price of butter?" "Not very much, but it does suggest that... let''s sit down in the living room. I need a black coffee and better seating if I''m actually going to cover this with the likes of you." *** Interlude Lucy - School Days Interlude Lucy - School Days Lucy looked at herself in the mirror, then gave a little spin. CIAL had their own uniform. From what she understood, and from what she saw, there were some strict rules about what a person could and couldn''t wear, but the rules were also pretty relaxed in other ways. The school sold uniforms, and the prices were... well, they weren''t cheap. 15,000 credits for a blazer made her skin crawl. It wasn''t that much, in the grand scheme of things, but it was enough that she recoiled from the very idea of spending that much. Fortunately, they had a cheaty device that could print just about anything, and a cheeky Myalis to help create 3d files for said printer. The official CIAL uniform included a blazer, with different colours for different years, pants or a skirt, and all-black shoes. Her uniform was all-black, except for a few shiny white lines running along the seams of her blazer and along the edge of her skirt. Her official school shoes had red laces that stood out rather starkly. Black and white like that meant that she was the lowest level of student at the school. Or something like that. There were different marks as a person rose in ranks and years. She suspected that that was on purpose. It didn''t mean anything, but it created a quick visual hierarchy that she imagined a certain type of person would quickly become obsessed with. Reaching down, she tugged her thigh-high socks up a bit. The trick with those was to have them stop just short of the hem of her skirt. That little bit of squished thigh? That shit would drive any gay girl mad. Lucy grinned at herself. She felt... strangely pretty. Not that she''d ever thought of herself as not pretty, but... being able to move as she wanted to, without the shakes, the aches in her legs, the sudden waves of tiredness? It felt empowering. Plus, the better diet and self care meant that her skin was practically glowing. She ran her hands through her hair, puffing it out a little--getting her hair to sit in anything but some variation of a curly fro was a lost cause--and then she picked up a purse and slung it over her shoulder. It was shaped like a big poofy cat''s head, and was very cute. Plus, she needed a place to put her gun. It was one of those Foxteeth that Cat had given to all of the Kittens a while back. She figured she wouldn''t need it, but it was better to be safe than sorry. A touch at her neck, where that necklace Cat had given her lay, and she was ready. "What do you think?" she asked the presence behind her. A large form peeled itself out of nothing, revealing a mechanized cat whose head came up to mid-waist on her. The P.U.S.S Model Y shifted, then stretched. It looked like a bengal tiger, if bengal tigers came equipped with several machine guns and a rocket launcher. This one was the one she usually found following her around the house, or when she had to go downstairs to check on something. Not that it was easy to spot, being invisible and deathly quiet. She only knew it was around sometimes because it opened doors behind her and elevators took a moment longer to close than they should have. There were four more of the same model around the house. Maybe. Probably. She''d never seen them all in the same place. She supposed that others might have been worried, living in a home with so many invisible things able to rip them to shreds, but Lucy felt like it was rather comforting. With a final nod to herself, and a brilliant smile that she usually saved for Cat, she flumped out of the bedroom. "Yup, wild," Lucy said with a grin. They headed downstairs where the Bastion was waiting for them. "Do you think we should paint it yellow?" Lucy asked. "Paint it yellow? The Bastion?" Cat asked. "Lucy, I''m not painting my awesome mech carrier school bus yellow." "Aww, but it would be topical." "It would stick out like a sore thumb," Cat said. "It''s a twenty-five metre long flying brick with cat ears and more guns than a tank," Lucy pointed out. "It''s less like a sore thumb and more like... a sore hand? Wait... a sore arm? Let me workshop that analogy a little more. Point is, it''s not subtle!" "And painting it yellow would make it even less subtle," Cat pointed out. Lucy laughed as she found her seat in the cockpit and watched Cat expertly and easily turn the ship on and start to pilot it out of the garage. "Sure, but that could be a good thing. It''s like... a frog." "A frog. If you convince Myalis to change my name and theme to frogs I''m walking off the roof," Cat said. "I''ve got enough trouble with the whole cat stuff all over. You know she''d somehow cover all of my crap in slimy goop just because it''s thematic." "I meant more like, you know, poisonous frogs are colourful to tell people that they''re dangerous," Lucy said. "Yeah, and machinery and buses are yellow to warn people not to get in their way for the same reason," Cat said. "The NMT buses aren''t yellow," Lucy pointed out. "They might have been once, but now they''re all shit coloured from flying through too much smog," Cat said. They argued about buses and paint schemes for a while, at least until the CIAL campus came into view ahead on the wide screen in front of Cat and they started to descend towards the main plaza of the campus. Cat snorted when she noticed that someone had marked out a large rectangle, about the size of the Bastion, with several cones. They''d painted Samurai Parking in the middle of the rectangle. She came down near it, parking the Bastion an entire car-length to the side of the box. "Cat," Lucy said. "You''re doing that on purpose." "It''s funnier this way," Cat said. "C''mon, they''re using me being here for their own shit, the least I can do is poke them about it." Lucy shook her head, but she didn''t have time to argue because it would soon be time for class. *** Chapter Six - Invisible Cougars in Your Area Chapter Six - Invisible Cougars in Your Area "DANIEL (rolling eyes) Philosophy is important, Ma. It helps us understand the world. MRS. CALLAWAY (scoffs, adjusting the settings on the printer) Philosophy? Sweetheart, philosophy can''t fill your plate. You gonna eat thoughts and prayers? - CANNED LAUGH TRACK - MRS. CALLAWAY (shaking head) No, no, sweetheart. What you need is a solid education in something grounded. Something you can use. Like this handy 3D food printer, by Ceglia!" --Excerpt from Callaway''s Bunch, AI-generated prime-time drip feed media, 2035 *** Delilah had gone on about... ignorance or some such the night before. It was a lot and she was pretty excited about it, in her own little Delilah way. Anyway, it was very smart and very philosophical, and I think I forgot about half of it by the time I woke up, and most of the rest slipped by me when I saw Lucy in a short shirt and thigh highs--with the little gap--but some small bits kinda stuck, like shit in a bowl. It was gonna take more than a flush to completely erase what she''d said. I had the impression that Delilah wouldn''t have been happy about that analogy. "Are you smiling that much because you''re excited, or is it something else?" Lucy asked "Just thinking about something Delilah said," I replied with a dismissive wave. I wasn''t about to explain that joke to Lucy. "Thought it fit this whole situation well?" Lucy did that cute thing where she tilted her head a smidge, like a curious puppy who didn''t quite get something. I just smiled, then slipped past her and deeper into the Bastion. I decided to exit out from one of the bays in the middle of the ship, just because. It was easier for the smaller cat drones that would keep an eye on Lucy to follow that way. I think she knew about one of them, but not the other two. Sure, one was probably enough, but what if someone suicidal made an actual attempt to hurt Lucy? All it would take is a group coming in from multiple angles for a single cat droid to not be enough. So three it was. One was a bigger model, and two of them were the smaller dumbasses that I''d been using for a while. I wasn''t sure how many I''d bought this far, but there always seemed to be one around the house. It was only strange because I don''t think I''d ever bought one at our place, which begged the question of how they got home. The girl next to him was a tall brunette with a dancer''s physique who wore the school uniform real well, though her skirt was at least a modest length compared to what Lucy had on. "This is Ethan Parker, and Olivia Bennett," the Vice Principal said as he gestured to the boy and girl in turn. "They''re freshmen students, as you are, but both of them have been through most of their formative education right here at CIAL." "A pleasure to meet you," Ethan said. "Hello. Welcome to CIAL," Olivia added. "Hi!" Lucy replied with a cute little wave. "It''s nice that you thought about that. I was worried I might get lost. The campus map looks pretty good, but the free trial version I found didn''t have everything. It''ll be great to have someone to guide me around. Um, since we''re going to different classes... who''s going with who?" "Ah, yes, you want to know with whom you''re going. Miss Leblanc, you''ll be guided to your culinary courses by Mister Parker here. As for you, Miss Stray Cat, I hope you and Olivia get along on your way to your morning Tactics and Combat courses." I shrugged a shoulder. "Yeah, sure," I said. We were... actually running a little late and should probably have arrived twenty minutes ago if we wanted to be there on time. "Let''s head out, then?" I asked. "Yeah!" Lucy said. I grinned, then bent down to give her cheek a rather chaste kiss. "Stay safe. If anyone gives you trouble, shoot them first and don''t let anyone ask questions." She rolled her eyes, not noticing the VP''s constant smile turning nervous. "I''ll do my best. I can''t imagine culinary classes are that dangerous. Right Ethan?" The boy started at being addressed so suddenly. Then Lucy was flouncing along and he had to catch up. "So, did you grow up on campus or have you just been going here for like, elementary and high school? How''s it been treating you? Oh, and do you do any sports? You look like the sort." And she was off. Unless the school chose real carefully, she''d have that moron eating out of her hand by the time they reached class and waiting on her hand and foot by the end of the week. "Olivia, right?" I asked the girl. At her nod, I smiled back, then gave the VP a sloppy salute. "See you around, then." "Have a good lesson," he replied. Olivia returned my smile, then gestured to the side. "It''s right this way, Miss Stray Cat. May I call you that?" "Sure," I said. "But just Cat''s fine too. It''s what everyone calls me," I said. She nodded. "Thank you! Of course, call me Olivia! The Miss this, and Mister that, it''s all kind of formal. CIAL appreciates the opportunity to keep old traditions going, but it''s also a multicultural space, where students are free to express themselves and grow into their own." "Uh-huh," I said, not letting my emotions show. "Tell me more." "I''d love to! CIAL is one of the more prominent ivy-league establishments in the world, but it''s not just known for its educational and academic excellence, it''s a place for culture and art to flourish," Olivia continued. "Wow," I said, flatly. "You know, I think once you graduate, some corp is gonna be real happy to have you." If everyone here was like this chick, I was getting back in my ship and fucking right off. *** Chapter Seven - Where Rules Bend to Power Chapter Seven - Where Rules Bend to Power "The biggest detriment to a proper, rigid school system where education is standardized to the degree we wish it to be, are teachers that refuse to comply with our standards." --CIAL board meeting, 2051 *** Olivia seemed to go quiet after a while of walking through the campus. I noticed that once we were away from the Bastion, the number of stares I was getting decreased pretty sharply. I guess I was sorta fitting in, what with the ridiculous uniform and all that. Still, I was pretty sure I''d never fit in fully. There was just this feeling in the air as I walked past yet another group of students. Actually, group was putting it lightly. The people I saw here were usually on their own. Some of them were moving in pairs, or in little cliques, but more often than not they were alone, and from the look in their eyes, they were alone in their headspace too. I wasn''t sure what to make of that, but I decided to file it away for later. Maybe it was just too early in the morning for most of these folk, but people where I was from generally tried not to be caught out in the open alone like this. It was asking for trouble. "So, where''s this Combat and Tactics class anyway?" I asked. "Just this way," Olivia said. "It''s in one of the main gymnasium buildings. CIAL has several alumni who are Olympic athletes, and it has professional college teams in hockey, volleyball, American football, soccer, several esports, drone racing, and we have one of the largest pickleball teams in North America!" I sighed. "Okay, that''s nice," I said. "You know, you don''t need to sound so much like an advertisement." Olivia glanced at me from the corner of her eyes. "I''m just doing my part to highlight the values of the school I love and cherish so much," she said with the perkiness of someone who''d just taken a bite into a happy pill. "Uh-huh," I said. I couldn''t say she was a bad guide, however, because we made it to our destination soon enough. The gymnasium building was a rather large one, with a curved roof covered in solar panels between large windows and a front that opened into a large lobby space with free seating and a concession stand to the side. It reminded me more of a mini sports arena than the kind of gym someone might go to lift heavy things and put them back down. "Students entering a CIAL facility need to approach the door-side scanner," Olivia said as she walked us up to the main doors. There was a blocky black thing next to it. "By scanning the scanner here with your CIAL student app on your augs, you can confirm that you''re allowed within a space and unlock the auto-locking doors." "Okay," I said. Pretty normal feeling level of security, I supposed.@@@@ There was definitely a male skew to things. Of the almost thirty others, at least twenty were guys. The rest were women, or people whose gender I couldn''t guess at with a glance. The age was a little older than I expected. It looked like Olivia and I would be on the younger side, because while only a few of the folk here look like they were older, in their forties and the like, the rest seemed to be in their later twenties or early thirties at least. Two men in different uniforms were talking at the front of the class. When the older of the two saw us entering, he patted his buddy on the shoulder, then walked over. "Thank you, Miss Bennet," he said. "I''ll take it from here." "Of course, Professor Rogers," Olivia said. She smiled at me, then walked up towards the front of the class where a pair of seats had been left open. "Hey," I said to the prof. "You''re one of the teachers, then?" "I am," he said with a nod. "Professor Rogers, formerly a captain of the US Armed forces, then a private military contractor for twenty years." The dude looked like he was in his mid fifties or so, but he was still fit, even if he had a bit of a gut. "Alright," I said. "I''m Stray Cat, but folks just call me Cat." "Good," he said. "I wanted to talk before class started. The school is making a lot of exceptions to have you here. Personally, I''m not fond of that. It''s disruptive. At the same time, I''ve had a long enough career that I know that sometimes breaking patterns is exactly the right thing to do." "Alright," I said. "I get what you''re saying. I''m not even sure I''ll be sticking around." He nodded. "I''ve done what I can to cut out anything from my course that I thought might be superfluous. There''s a lot that we emphasize that won''t apply to a samurai. An entire module of the class is about chains of command and working under the auspice of an incapable superior, for example. Or handling situations where logistics have fallen, or situations where current armaments are insufficient." I nodded slowly. Yeah I could see why he thought none of that would apply to a samurai. I could kinda see how it might but then I wouldn''t want to waste an afternoon on a very niche scenario. "A lot of problems can be solved when you can summon a nuke with one sentence," I said. One of his eyebrows perked up at that, but he nodded, conceding the point. "I think you see what I meant. If there''s any time where a course feels like it''s covering something unnecessary, please approach me after class and we''ll skip ahead." "What about the rest?" I asked with a gesture to the other students. "Can''t imagine them being happy about it." "They''ll cover it with their homework, or additional classes. As I said, the school is making a lot of concessions to make this as smooth as possible." "Damn," I said. He nodded. "Find a seat, if you would. Class will start in a couple of minutes. Again, we can talk afterwards to make sure things are up to your expectations." "Alright, thanks Prof," I said. He chuckled. "I''ve had my ass saved by some samurai a time or two. I''d like to think of this as returning the favour, in a small way." *** Chapter Eight - Cat Skips the Ethics Module Chapter Eight - Cat Skips the Ethics Module "I think it''s high time that we acknowledge that much of our educational system is dedicated to teaching things that have no real-world importance, purely for the sake of indoctrinating our youth! What use does a scientist or future businessman have in Ethics? It''s nothing but an excuse for the intolerant leftist to fill the minds of our youth with their twisted ideals!" --Jim Reeds, the ''Real Man Podcast'' 2029 *** Professor Rogers stepped up to the front of the class, then narrowed his eyes as he looked across all of the students. In the meantime, I moved to the very back and smacked the floor with the tip of my shoe. The desks were meant to fold in and out of the floor, along with the chairs. Obviously so that the floorspace could be used for other shit later on. There was a seat open for me next to Olivia way out at the front, and I sure as shit wasn''t going to be sitting there. The Professor cleared his throat. "We''ll be starting now," he said.@@@@ "Yeah yeah," I muttered before bending down. Oh. There was a little clasp thing. Yeah, that made sense. I pulled on it, then the seat and desk unfolded out of the floor all nice and easy like. "I don''t think we''re supposed to add seats," some guy said. "First rule of combat class," I shot back. "Don''t do the expected thing." Then I sat my ass down and gestured to the professor. "Present." He breathed out of his nose in what might have been a laugh, but it was also perfectly deniable. "Good. Now that everyone is seated. Let''s begin. This is a special class of Combat and Tactics. We will be covering some material not usually covered, skipping some that is, and handing out far more homework than usual. If you''ve signed up for this class in particular, then you know what''s going on." He gestured, and the digital blackboard behind him lit up with a sort of powerpoint presentation. "We''re skipping the history modules, the legalities of armed engagement module, and the ethics module. Instead, our first three weeks, which are usually split between the above, will be dedicated to the other two modules that we usually cover." 3 - Subdue the enemy without fighting "Take these down, if you''re the note-taking type," Rogers said. "All warfare is based on deception. If your enemy, be they the antithesis, another nation, a rival corporation, or rebelling workforce, knows what you''re doing, then you''re already losing. In the corporate world, that means misinformation campaigns, corporate espionage, cyberwarfare, and press manipulation. In a war against the plants, it means having functional advanced warning systems and troops ready for deployment." The first quote expanded, taking up the top of the powerpoint. All warfare is based on deception. "We often paint our enemies as stupid and inefficient. They are both a menace and idiotic. A threat, and someone you can laugh at. Humans are good at holding two contradictory ideas as if they are self-evident. Most of the time, we don''t even realize it. If you approach a tactical situation with that kind of dichotomy in your knowledge, then you''re giving your foe a massive advantage. Deception means fooling your adversary. Deceptive warfare means knowing when you are being fooled, most of all by your own preconceptions." He reached up and the slide changed again. "We''ll be covering three examples today, and more will be slid into your assigned reading. The first is ancient history. Operation Mincemeat, conducted in 1943. During World War II, the British needed to convince Nazi Germany that they were invading Greece and Sardinia instead of their actual target¡ªSicily. So what did they do? They took a dead man, dressed him up as a British officer, and loaded him with fake invasion plans. Then they dropped him in the water near Spain, where they knew the Germans would find him. The Nazis bought it. They shifted their defenses away from Sicily, sent reinforcements to the wrong locations, and left the real invasion site vulnerable. One dead body. One forged document. Thousands of lives saved. A whole war shifted. Obviously, this wasn''t the only plan similar to this. Often-times in war, you need to take a scattershot approach, attempt to deceive your enemy in several ways." Another slide clicked into place. "The Black Eye War of 2041 was a competition war between Pondsmith Biotech and Arneson Cybernetics. PB was about to launch a new model of eye-based augs and Arneson was going to launch their own. The Arneson devices were about three years ahead of the curve thanks to an alliance with a local samurai who allowed them to reverse-engineer an implant." Rogers nodded to a student who''d raise their hand. "Is that an actual war?" "Do you mean, were nations fighting? If so, no. Do you mean to ask if principles of warfare were used, then yes. People died, so I''d like to think it counts. The Black Eye War happened over the course of six months. Pondsmith''s intelligence bureau heard about the Arneson Cybernetics''s new eye and they launched a coordinated attack in three phases. First they hacked the Pondsmith supply chain, creating subtle reports about a defect in the product. Then they leaked the news to the public and threw up a fuss about it in the media. Finally, on Black Friday, when the new implants were both launching, they crashed Arneson''s stock with a seventeen trillion credit dump. It almost bankrupted Pondsmith to pull that off." "Did it work?" someone asked. "Arneson''s stock value dropped by 62% overnight. Pondsmith acquired the company three months later, then sold the non-defective stock out for a premium. The models they sold became the most commonly used eye-aug in North America for half a decade." Roger switched slides. "Now, let''s get into the big example. The 2048 Siege of Atlanta. One of the biggest successful pushbacks against an active incursion in our history. We''re going to go over this one day-by-day, and I''m going to be highlighting how the commanders in charge--that is, an army general, a PMC commander, and a pair of local samurai--managed to actively deceive the antithesis and lay out a trap that resulted in a clean-slate incursion wipe in only four days." I sat up in my seat. I hadn''t even realized that I was leaning forwards. Shit... maybe some folks were onto something with this learning crap. *** Interlude Lucy - School Days Part Two Interlude Lucy - School Days Part Two Interlude Lucy - School Days Part Two The introductory class was really... okay? Lucy felt, from the very start, as if she didn''t quite belong. For one, she was definitely on the younger side. Not by that much, but she''d estimate the average age to hover around the mid-twenties, and judging by the looks of the people in her class, they were definitely middle-class sorts. There was also a lot of stuff that the teacher assumes she knew already. Fortunately, while the class promised to be hands-on eventually, the opening class was pure technical knowledge. Some of it covered the equipment they would be using, and then the latter half of the class was a summary of the lesson plan for the year. She made note of anything that came up that she wasn''t aware of. A quick search online wasn''t going to plug every gap in her knowledge, but it would be better than coming in entirely blind. In any case, the class finished and according to her new best pal Ethan-the-ever-smiling Cat''s own class wasn''t going to finish for another hour. Which meant she had time. And time was opportunity, if she was willing to abuse a few things, like the school''s willingness to put up with her shit. Lucy grinned when the teacher slipped out of the classroom before anyone else had time to leave. "Hey!" she called out, her voice pitched up to catch people''s attention. "Does anyone here know how to bake cupcakes? Or like, make cookies?" That earned her a few looks, but there was someone brave enough to answer in the bunch. An older guy, maybe in his mid-thirties or so, with a well-trimmed beard and a bit of a dad bod. "I know a thing or two about baking," he said. "Miss Leblanc?" Ethan asked. The name sent a thrill down her spine. Sure, she''d initially done it to tease Cat, and it worked even better than she expected, but hearing it again now and then made the happy chemicals in her brain do a little dance. "I have a small plan, and I was wondering if anyone here would be willing to help? There''s a cool samurai mech carrier parked out by the admin building, and I think a bunch of people are worried about it. I was thinking we could help people calm down, maybe set up a sort of photo-taking thing with one of the mechs? And that''d be a lot cooler if we had free food to hand out!" "Free food?" another student asked. "I''m sure the school wouldn''t mind us... grabbing a few supplies. I saw these super cute cupcakes the other day, with little cat ears on them! It looked easy to make!"@@@@ "I don''t know if we have the school''s permission for that," Ethan said with a winning--if somewhat condescending--smile. "Perfect!" Lucy snapped. "Ethan, go get permission. You, uh, what''s your name?" "Aiden Baxter," the cupcake guy said. "Good! Aiden, you''re in charge of the cupcakes. Anyone here know how to make cookies?" Lucy asked. A woman nearby snorted. Lucy hadn''t spent the entire class just listening to the teacher''s lecture. She''d been eyeing the others as well. A few had given her looks but it was hard to do anything with your judgmentalism when in the middle of class. This woman was also one of the older students, probably in her later twenties, and she''s given off the vibes that the class was beneath her the whole time. "Thanks for volunteering!" Lucy said. "So, we should aim for a couple of hundred cookies and maybe half as many cupcakes... muffins? I''m not sure what the difference is. Do we have pre-made frosting, or should we make our own?" The students would probably be a little insulted if they knew just how much easier they were to manipulate than a bunch of unruly orphans. Lucy didn''t get too much work done herself. She helped a bit by pouring some batter into cupcake molds, and she wandered around with a garbage bag picking up after the messier students, but her job was mostly managerial. Cookies only needed fifteen minutes of baking. Cupcakes needed closer to twenty-five. That didn''t include any cool-down time that they needed before they could apply any frosting. Lucy tried her hand at making a few cookies look like little cat heads, but they looked... kind of like cats born with significant and serious birth defects. At least hers stood out amongst the much better, more standardized work the others on frosting duty could manage, even if it wasn''t in a great way. Within an hour and a half, they had a few platters filled with baked goods. Something like two hundred cupcakes and twice as many cookies. Mostly because they had ransacked the kitchen''s supplies and used all of the many ovens all at once. "Well, that was productive," Lucy said with a satisfied nod. Which is about when the Vice Principal walked in along with half a dozen members of security. The entire room froze, and Lucy could recognize that wide-eyed look of guilt anywhere. These people hadn''t ever learned how to look impassive and calm in the face of an authority figure, which was the equivalent of spilling blood in front of a hungry shark. "Oh good!" Lucy said. She scooped up a cupcake, walked up to the Vice Principal, and pushed it into his hand. "Try this out, they''re real good! Did Ethan go off to find tables for us?" "Tables?" he asked. "Well, we''re not going to stand there with handfuls of cookies, that''d be unsanitary." "I''m... afraid that the school requires certain permissions before--" "It''s fine," Lucy said. She smiled. "It''s fine. Now! Big guys! If you help us carry all of these over to the mech, we''ll give you a cookie each! How''s that sound?" she winked at the nearest security guy who seemed taken aback for a moment. The Vice Principal hesitated, but Lucy was already moving. Momentum and all that. It was important. "I suppose we have tables in storage," he finally said before looking at the cupcake. It had a little cat face on it, with fondant ears and a cute little smile. He took a tentative bite. "Perfect!" Lucy said. "Alright, everyone, grab a platter! Are there covers for these? Aiden, did you happen to see if there were, like, spare napkin packs around? People are definitely gonna need those. Come on, cooking class! Represent!" Lucy grinned. She was quite certain that Cat wasn''t having half as much fun as she was. *** SCS Fan Art Contest – Winners! A big thank you to everyone who participated in this month''s Stray Cat Strut Fanart Contest! The creativity and talent on display is incredible, and it''s always exciting to see how different artists bring their own interpretations of the world to life! Now, let''s get to the winners! SCS Art Category Cat and the Nyanzerfaust, by NiameScrawls! Niame (@niamescrawls.ca)@@@@ An insane bit of art! Cat just chilling on her mech is so heckin'' cool! *** AI Art Category Black Gem, by Alia Fata Morgana: Reflections [A SCS Fanfiction] | Royal Road Okay, so, uh, technically this one might not have been made by an AI, but it IS art of an AI? I laughed, and decided to give it the win. For reference, this art is of this quote by Myalis "Technically, I''m more of a hyper-dense carbon wafer. But I am somewhat gem-like, so I''ll accept the compliment with the grace it was given." And that''s all! Thank you to everyone who participated! And a special shout to the WackyWombat who helped keep things organized! Chapter Nine – Sweet Schemes Are Made of This Chapter Nine - Sweet Schemes Are Made of This "Cringe." --the President of the United States, 2028 *** Class let up, and I took my sweet time making my way out. The prof, Rogers, actually came up to me and asked me if the lesson was to my liking and... yeah, it kind of was. It was a bit more philosophy over more practical shit, but I could see how that kind of way of thinking might actually apply to a battlefield. "I liked it," I said. "Not sure I''d want day-after-day of philosophy, though." "That''s fine," he said. "We''ll likely be alternating between more philosophical approaches to tactics, actual physical education classes which will eventually include live combat simulation, and also some historical study, both of more modern battles and of some older ones from centuries prior." He smiled, a little smugly. "It''s rare to find someone who isn''t interested in history when you''re looking at the most interesting parts of it." "The big battles, you mean?" I asked. "Exactly," he said with a nod. "Something about an ancient siege stirs the blood." I decided that I liked Professor Rogers. He knew what good, sensible people liked. "If you want, we could dissect some of the battles you were in," he offered. "It could be interesting, especially since we have you here to corroborate some of the tactical choices made moment-by-moment." I decided that I disliked Professor Rogers. He didn''t know what was good for him. "Nah, I''d rather not. I''m not a tactical genius and I''d rather, uh, study better cases than my own," I said. "Anyway, I''mma head on out. See you around." I scooted on out of there soon after. Almost as soon as I was out of the class, I felt my unfortunate shadow slot into place next to me. Olivia, with her supplies hugged close to her chest. "Did you enjoy your first class at CIAL?" she asked. "Uh-huh," I said. "One sec, I need to text someone." I texted Lucy a quick ''Where''s your ???? at?'' and her reply was a quick eye roll, followed by saying she was at the mecha carrier, showing off the MEOW. The fat armoured mech which should have been sitting pretty inside of the Bastion. She didn''t say who she was even showing it off to to begin with. It was probably telling that I knew that Lucy was up to something from a one-line exchange and that had me walking a bit faster. Olivia started to jog to keep up, then I started to run, and I could hear her starting to pant as she kept up. "Uh-huh," I said. "And is there someone you forgot to ask, while you were asking nicely?" "Hmm?" Lucy hummed. She tilted her head to the side cutely and made a big show of thinking about it. "Maybe? Can''t have been someone too important." "Oh?" I asked as I squeezed her a little closer. "Not important, am I?" Lucy giggled, and the sound made my heart flutter. "Sorry! I should probably have asked, but Myalis offered and I figured it wasn''t a big deal? Are you upset?" "Not really," I said. It wasn''t like I was purposefully keeping the MEOW hidden or anything. "But ask anyway, next time you do something like this, just in case? Speaking of... what is this?" "Oh! Right! I saved one for you!" Lucy squirmed out of my hug and ran into the Bastion where she picked something up just inside. She returned with a small tupperware container that she opened to reveal... a spectacularly ugly cat-shaped cupcake next to a cookie with... smudged frosting on it. "They''re both kitty shaped!" "Are they?" I asked. "Hey! I worked hard on them," she protested. "I subhorned my cooking class and convinced them to bake stuff to give away. Then we did a whole... meet and greet kind of thing? But like, way less official. People took pics with the MEOW and have been hanging out here for like, the past hour." "Alright," I said. "But why?" "Eh, mostly I wanted to see how quickly I could get the class on my side," Lucy said with a grin. "Plus it''s really pissing off the school, which I think is funny because isn''t this exactly the kind of thing they wanted? Just without forms filled in triplicate first." "They''re going to label you as a troublemaker," I said. "Oh no," Lucy replied with the fakest gasp. "Whatever shall I do? Will I have to be punished? I''m not sure if I''m ready for that part of the school girl experience." "I don''t think it counts if you''re enjoying it," I said. "Do you think we can head out, or do you need more time to scheme?" Lucy considered it, then pushed the box closer. "Give me until you''re done with these? I''ve got to shake a few hands and play stupid in front of a few people, then we can head out!" Well, if I was getting free food out of it, I wasn''t going to be inclined to say no. *** Chapter Ten - Fight Like A Cat Chapter Ten - Fight Like A Cat Chapter Ten - Fight Like A Cat "Modern martial arts can be split, broadly, into three categories. The first is the exercise art. A martial art that focuses in part on self-defence, but also in simply learning how to move your own body with comfort and grace. The second is the combat martial art. Less an art, and more a tool of war. Something to learn as a soldier and mercenary to better kill and fight if other weapons fail. The third is the mystical art. As people become increasingly gullible, even with a plethora of information available to them, more fall into the trapping of mysticism and magic, often disguised as a martial tradition. The first two will keep you healthy and safe, the third will empty your wallet." --Excerpt from ''Break Their Noses'' a 2039 MMA Manual *** How come one afternoon of classes felt more tiring than a whole day of shooting aliens? Actually, that was a flat lie, and a rather big exaggeration. A day spent hunting down antithesis, or holding a wall, was a lot more stressful, but the whole school thing was tiring too, in its own way. "I need a nap," Lucy said as I brought the Bastion in for a gentle landing in the parking garage. "Urgh, but the kittens need to be checked on. They had no one supervising them all morning." "Can''t be that bad," I said. "Daniel was here, and I told Junior to keep an eye open," Lucy said. "And there''s easy food in the fridge. They won''t have starved, but you just know that at least two of them started a fight or something while we were gone." "Yeah," I said. I let out a yawn and relaxed back into the pilot''s seat. "Should we head out and check on them?" I didn''t really have the energy to stand up, at the moment.@@@@ Lucy grunted, then pulled herself up to standing with what looked like monumental effort. She leaned in over the pilot''s seat and gave me a kiss. "I''ll do it," she said. "Kinda asked for this." "Love you," I said. Lucy grinned, then slipped out of the cabin. I watched her go for a bit, then let out a sigh. If I was reasonable, I''d give myself a kick in the ass and get going. It wouldn''t take that much effort, really. Then I could sort through what needed sorting, get some lunch in me--because a cupcake and a cookie wasn''t a proper meal--and then see about some things. But at the moment I was mostly feeling lazy. Did you enjoy the day? "Hm? You know what? Yeah. The class was pretty... well, educational, I guess. But it was fun, overall. I''m not sure if I''ll be into this kind of thing in the long run, but for now it''s kinda neat. I can even see it being genuinely useful next time I have to deal with the antithesis. Tactics and shit. My, uh, strategies so far have mostly involved throwing shit at the wall, but that stuff about deception today? That was more refined than what I''m used to pulling." I''m glad to hear it. It might not always seem that way--mostly because teasing you is too amusing--but I do actually believe that you have some potential. It would be a shame to see it all go to waste. "Yeah," I said before I reached up and scratched at my nose. "So, uh. Hey, I''ve got that quick-mind upload wreath thing around somewhere, right?" You do. Yes. Exactly. Real tempting, actually. "What do you think would be suitable for me, though?" I asked. I''d suggest picking one of two directions. Either a broad, mixed-martial art that covers a range of combat styles and situations, or a modern martial art designed for anti-antithesis combat. The kind of martial art taught to those fighting lower-tier Antithesis. If you''re aiming for the latter, then you could choose some Sunwatcher martial arts as well. "Wouldn''t their martial arts have, uh, compatibility issues?" I asked. A few. I''d adjust the art on the fly to make it work. No worries. The advantage being, of course, that none of the students you train with will be aware of your style and its broad moveset. "That is a pretty big advantage, I''ll bet." And, the martial art will carry over to tailed-combat in your mechs. It''s as suitable to bipedal combat as it is to quadruped. Of course, you''ll still have to pick an art. "Isn''t Sunwatcher... the art?" I asked. Do you think that every non-human race is a monolith? The history of the Sunwatchers stretches further back than humanity''s by millenia. They have a much broader culture with a longer written history to pull from. "Alright, fair enough," I said. "So is humanity like... a little baby culture?" The littlest, babiest of them. "Thanks," I said. "Okay, fine. How many are we talking about here?" Six thousand complete martial arts. Do you want me to narrow that list down for you? "I think I''d like that, yeah," I said. "Get me something flashy but effective." That''s contradictory. "Look, if it doesn''t look intimidating, then what even is the point?" I asked. I think I have something, then. The Moonlight Claw arts. It''ll be difficult on your flesh hand, but still doable, especially if you wear a glove. Quite flashy, and very effective. I nodded along. I was liking the sound of that. "Cool! So... where did I put that wreath anyway? I haven''t the faintest clue where I left it, but I swear I saw it recently." There was an electronic sigh in my ear. I''ll guide you to it. Myalis truly was the best, some of the time. Was this what having a mom was like? *** Chapter Eleven - A Duel at Dawn Chapter Eleven - A Duel at Dawn Chapter Eleven - A Duel at Dawn "Breakfast is the mmmmmost immmmportant mmmeal of the day! Mmmmraw! Touch mmmine and you''re a dead mmmmotherfucker!" --Marvin the Marmoset, Marmo-Os mascot, 2054 *** "Cat! Nose stole my spatula and won''t give it back!" Lucy called out from the kitchen. I blinked, trying to process all of that. It was... seven forty in the morning, which meant it was way too early to deal with anything strenuous. Last night had had me laying on our bed, downloading a few terabytes of kung fu straight into my brain, and at the moment I was suffering the morning-after consequences of that. Basically, I felt like I was dizzy, without being dizzy. I blinked as Nose came running out of the kitchen, spatula held proudly before him like some sort of trophy. The little shit was grinning the grin of a victor. So I swept in low, spinning my hips around and bending one knee so that my centre of gravity lowered even as my leg shifted outwards. I held back at the end, slowing down so that my low kick was more like a low bump that caught Nose''s shin just hard enough to send him flying. Then, since I was low already, I reached around and caught him around the torso, one arm grabbing him around the front, the other snacking through his arms to lock him in place. I landed on my shoulder, with the little shit stuck in a headlock. "Gotcha, bitch!" I said. "No!" Nose shouted, then he started to squeal like a pig caught in a bear trap. "Lemme go! I don''t want eggs again!" "What are you on about?" I asked as I put my new grappling techniques to good use and kept the little shit locked in place. Eventually I caught him so that I had a hand free, and I was able to pluck the spatula away. "I''m tired of eggs! It''s all Lucy ever makes in the morning!" he whined. "What? Bitch, are you some little rich corpo shit that gets to pick what he eats in the morning? You''re going to eat what Lucy puts on your plate and you''re gonna be happy about it! The secret ingredient is love! The secret spice is my boot up your ass!" Lucy and I stared at each other, and then she shrugged. "I guess? I don''t think I have anything like that. Today we''re going to be learning how to safely use some of the things in the kitchen, which does sound nice. We have a bunch of things here that I don''t even know what they''re called. Like... there''s a food processor, right? But like, it doesn''t process anything? It''s weird." "I''ll take your word for it," I said as I started to chow down. "Any more plans with regards to taking over the school?" Lucy thought about it. "Nah. Not today. You can''t push too fast with this kind of thing, because then people start to feel like you have an agenda. It''s better to wait for the school to mess up and to ride people''s anger to the top." "Mhm," I said. I opened my schedule and looked at what things were like for the rest of the week. From the looks of things, I have four half-days a week, and that was it. That left me... with a surprisingly large pool of free time. Lucy''s schedule more or less overlapped with mine, only she had a couple more days and a few more half-days sprinkled in. I''d have to go bring her to school and pick her up a few times each week, but that wasn''t so bad. Meh, I''d figure out what to do tomorrow, tomorrow. I finished breakfast in a rush, then watched as the kids came in to eat. Lucy was good with them, all smiles and pats on their heads. She wanted them educated and ready for the world. Something that we just couldn''t do a while ago, but now it felt like the easiest thing in the world. It being easy didn''t mean that I wanted to dismiss it, though. Lucy ate, gave some of the brats some orders that we both knew wouldn''t be followed without one of us there to bully the kids into doing them--shit like washing up only happened under threat of violence--and then we both ran back to our room to get dressed. Twenty minutes later we were in the Bastion, flying back towards the CIAL campus. I noticed that there were more people around when I came in to land. Enough that I was basically forced to set down in the spot marked out for the Bastion or risk landing atop some dumbass who didn''t know to look up. "Alright." Lucy said. "I''m off to class! Oh, hey, if I get a bicycle for getting around with, do you think I can leave it in the Bastion?" "I guess," I said. It wasn''t a terrible idea. "But like... don''t turn my transport into a shed. I don''t want to have to pick through random crap in the middle of a fight." "Promise!" Lucy said. "Love you! See you in a bit!" I got a goodbye kiss, then Lucy took off. We were a bit on the late side. I stepped out of the Bastion and shut it behind me, then took off at a respectable clip towards class. I was joined halfway there by Olivia who was carrying a duffel bag over one shoulder. "I wasn''t sure if you had clothing appropriate for physical exercise, so I brought some extra with me," Olivia said. "It''s all CIAL-marked clothing, from the campus store! So you know it''s got the CIAL seal of quality!" Yeah, I bet. I was both anxious to get started, and anxious to be done with it. *** Chapter Twelve - Survival 101: Dont Be Weak Chapter Twelve - Survival 101: Don''t Be Weak Chapter Twelve - Survival 101: Don''t Be Weak "Run my minions! Sweat for your master! That''s right, a million more push-ups! A million more burpees! Oh-hohohoho!" -Ojou-Sama Sweat School, exercise stream, 2036 *** Class was going down in the same room as last time, only the room itself had changed. The desks were all lowered, and a sort of matted floor was placed atop that half of the room. It was squishy underfoot, but still firm enough to walk on without too much difficulty. It would probably break a fall, a little, but not so much so that crashing onto the floor would be comfortable. The students were gathering to one side, under the watchful eye of Professor Rogers and two teacher''s assistants. They were all dressed in gym shorts and t-shirts, with running shoes on. "The changing rooms are this way," Olivia said as she guided me past the class and to the back, where a tied corridor split. One side had showers, the awkward open sort, the other had a bunch of changing stalls and lockers along one wall with thumb-print locks on them. "Here you go," Olivia said as she handed me a heap of clothes. "There should be everything you need to find a set that fits you in there." "Thanks," I said before slipping into one of the free stalls. They were those shitty ones, where the door only came down to about my knee and the floor was all cold tile. I set down the bag Olivia had given me, then opened it up and started to sort through its contents. There were shirts with the school logo on one breast, which was fine. Shapeless gym shorts of the non-sexy variety which was... yeah, I suppose that was fine too. But the sports bras? That was a little weird. And I was definitely, one-hundred percent not going to wear the granny panties with the school''s logo on the crotch. Bet Olivia would, though. I left the stall feeling a little under-dressed, especially since I wasn''t gonna walk into gym class with my Trenchmaker strapped around my thigh. That''d be a little weird. "Is the uniform comfortable?" Olivia asked. She''d changed into pretty much the same thing, though with a scrunchy keeping her hair out of her face. "Eh, it''s whatever," I said. I dumped my things in one of the lockers, then walked back to the class.@@@@ It didn''t take long from there for things to start. "Alright everyone," Professor Rogers said. "This is the physical education part of your class. Let me get one thing straight, this isn''t about who can run the fastest mile, or who can do the most pushups. Those are important measurements of your own skill and capabilities, but they''re not what''s important. What''s truly important, is your ability to survive, and your ability to kill." I stood up a little straighter. Yeah, I didn''t want to be tested on my ability to jog in a circle or lift heavy shit. Running around with my own weight on my back was not normal for me. It was worse for some of the others, though. They were gasping after three minutes and one chick fell down and crashed to the mats. The professor was on her in seconds, barking orders and telling her to get back up. So, no mercy from the old asshole. I locked in as best I could. Some of the guys in the class were moving as if this was nothing. There were a couple that were more cybernetics than flesh, and they weren''t having any trouble with this shit. "It''s... not fair!" one skinny dude said. I immediately pegged him as a nepo-baby. "What''s not fair?" Rogers asked. "They''re modded... for this," he said. "Then get mods of your own, imbecile," the professor said. "You work with what you have, and in this day and age, if you don''t like what you''ve got, get better." The running around ended after far too long, and this time I couldn''t hide the fact that I was a sweaty, tired mess. "Good... now that you''re all warmed up, let''s start some speed drills. We''re going to start with hand-eye coordination drills, then once that''s done, we''re going to do a bit more sprinting," Professor Rogers said. The TAs started to pull out these pole contraptions with red balls on stalks. Once they set a few down, it wasn''t long before I figured out how they worked. A light would go off in the ball, and the student in front had to punch it. The lights went off progressively faster, and there was a penalty counter for missed hits. My legs were hurting before, and this thing was designed to fuck up my arms too. Why had I ever agreed to any of this? At the same time... I couldn''t help but feel like this might be a good way to come out the other side stronger and faster, so I''d trust the process for a bit. *** Chapter Thirteen – Carl Phillip Gottfried von Clauswitz Chapter Thirteen - Carl Phillip Gottfried von Clauswitz "Carl Phillip Gottfried von Clauswitz was a coward lil bitch, and no I ain''t elaborating. No notes." --Professor of Military History John B Mcbrea, 2051 *** "Alright, sit down," Professor Rogers said. I didn''t need to be told twice. Over the last few minutes, while we were doing jumping jacks at one end of the room, the teacher''s assistants were moving the mats off the floor where the seats were. Now the desks had unfolded and were back in their neat little rows. I flopped down onto mine and let out a long breath. My heart was still pumping fast, and I could feel the wet slickness of sweat sticking to my back. The shitty gym shirt I had didn''t breathe well. "Class will end in an hour. We''re going to alternate, going forwards, between long class-sessions where we focus on theory and discussions, and physical education at the end, and longer physical education sessions followed by theory," the professor said. "Historically, this has worked relatively well. Even if you feel physically exhausted, that shouldn''t stop your minds from working, and the physical training post-lesson sometimes gives you time to think and meditate on what you just learned." I nodded. Yeah, I could get that. Not super fond of the idea of spending so much learning time as a sweaty mess, but I got it. "Good, now that we''re all on the same page, let''s continue our discussion from last time. We talked about Sun Tzu, a strategist and military theorist of ancient China. Today we''re going to cover someone a little younger. Carl Phillip Gottfried von Clauswitz. Everyone who studies military history usually refers to him as Clausewitz alone." The professor turned to one of his TAs and gestured to them. They returned a moment later with a small fold-out seat that he sat on backwards. "Clausewitz was a Prussian general and theorist whose work can honestly be said to have shaped modern warfare. He fought in the Napoleonic wars, a time much like the present where new technologies were changing the fundamental ways that wars were fought. He was a successful general, but more importantly, he wrote about his observations in a book whose name roughly translates to ''On War'' or ''About War.''" Rogers blinked and the screen changed again, this time showing a political sort in front of a crowd, behind him was a group of suits and assistants. "In January 2035 this man, Maxime Mythe, was one of the leading politicians of a French political party with a middle-right leaning. His party was gaining popularity in several polls and he was in line to become an influential politician. His slate was clean. No cheating on his spouse, no diddling kids, no bribes. He was an asshole, because he was a politician, but a clean one." The image zoomed in on one of the randos behind the Maxime guy. "This is his press secretary. A young man whose slate wasn''t nearly as clean. At the time, Maxime was fighting against bio-modifications in his country, wanting to make them illegal and increase enforcement against the use of cyberization. Solace Biotech, a now defunct company, decided to fight against Maxime, but their head of cybersecurity very specifically targeted his press secretary. He was blackmailed into revealing several sensitive documents, including several which were falsified. It didn''t matter that they were fake, the public outrage was enough that by the time investigations were complete, the laws that Maxime wanted to put into place were never going to see the light of day, and his political career was shot." I rubbed at my face. I hadn''t heard of this thing, but... yeah, that sounded plausible. I''d seen plenty of political shit go down on my personal media feed that looked a lot like this. So how much of what I''d seen throughout my life was someone fucking with someone else like this? Lucy would love this shit. Rogers went on for a while, going back to some ancient history with Clausewitz and then comparing some of that guy''s stuff to Sun Tzu and how they differed in some ways and overlapped in others. Soon enough, though, the class was over. Five minutes before it was meant to, even. "Alright, I''ll see you all in two days," Rogers said. "You''re off early because you need to shower. The stink of you lot is driving me insane. We''re starting the next class five minutes early to make up for it." I peeled myself off the seat, then sighed as a smiling Olivia frumped her way over. "Did you enjoy the class?" she asked. "CIAL''s lessons are specially designed to help students take in as much information as possible in as short a time! Even our physical education is designed to maximize learning efforts!" "Yeah, it was fine," I said. "I''mma head out. I think there''s a shower in my mech. No offence, but I''m not big on public showers where a bunch of dudes have their dicks out. So, uh, you have fun with that." I needed to get clean, and maybe zone out for a while. *** Chapter Fourteen – Unexpected Fallout Chapter Fourteen - Unexpected Fallout "The obsession with youth is an unchecked virus. The fixation on appearing young is less about vanity and more about survival in a culture that equates power with youth. And yet, the reality is that all political soft power is in the hands of the old. In the digital age, where everything is accelerated and disposable, youth is weaponized, sold, and idolized. But in chasing an endless cycle of perfection, we miss the deeper, grittier truth; true strength is forged in the scars of experience, the wisdom of survival, and the beauty of becoming something more than a perfectly polished avatar. --Excerpt from a speech by Bernard Dotter at the Grey Hair Con of 2045 *** "Yo," I said as I walked up to the Bastion. Olivia had peeled off a while ago, almost as soon as I was within line of sight of the ship, and now the only stranger left was... that dude that was accompanying Lucy. Emmet? Easton? No, it was... Ethan? "Cat!" Lucy said before she ran over and gave me a quick hug. "I''m glad you arrived. Did class go on for a long time? Also, you stink." I laughed, then shrugged. "A bit? I think it finished early, but I had to get changed." "Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense," she said. "Anyway, Ethan here was just keeping me company, but he''s heading out now." "I am?" Ethan asked. "Yup," Lucy said. "Thanks for stalking me around all over, it was nice of you! I''ll see you tomorrow, right?" "Oh, yeah, right," Ethan said with a goofy smile. If it wasn''t so obvious that Lucy had a leash on the poor idiot I might have considered socking him in the nose, but... yeah, no, he was giving off mad himbo idiot vibes. Lucy waved as the boy took off, then she turned back to me. "Can we go home?" she asked. "Yeah, sure," I said. "You in a hurry?" Lucy nodded. "I''ve been holding it in all morning." I barked a laugh, not expecting that reply. "Really? They have bathrooms here, you know?" I said as I walked over to the Bastion and sent a command through my augs to open it up. "Yeah, I know, but... public washrooms suck," she said. "I hate the stalls. They''re always super narrow, and there was never room for my crutches." "Okay," I said. She didn''t have crutches anymore, and I was pretty sure the washroom back at the orphanage couldn''t be any narrower without breaking some physical laws, but I knew better than to point that out. If she had hangups about it, then whatever. "There''s a washroom on the Bastion. Never used, either." "Really?" Lucy asked. Mostly the consequences of your call to action at the funeral you attended recently. The call to action which was broadcast internationally and which has had a marked effect on the number of riots and acts of political activism across the region. I suspect that some entities wish to talk to you about that. I paused in the act of mussing shampoo into my hair. "Wait, what?" There''s also still an ongoing global incursion, though it is mostly contained and seems to be slowly winding down. The area around New Montreal is quite secure, but there are still pockets of resistance. "Right, okay," I said. That much was easier to deal with. Finally, I believe that the army had put in several requests to communicate with you, including some sent directly from members you are familiar with. There is also some mail from local vanguard who wish to discuss various topics with you. "Urgh," I said. I took a moment to dunk my head under the flowing water of the shower. It drowned out my thoughts for a few moments. "Okay," I said as I pulled my head out. "Fuck me, that''s something. Can you like... order them by importance or something? Tell me who''s at the top?" A surprisingly difficult thing to ask, but I believe I can manage. At the top of the list would be the representatives of the Keiretsu and Nachtwa?chternetzwerk. They want to set up a post-operation debrief in the coming week. They are giving you some leeway since New Montreal was hit hardest by the falling Phobos remains, but I suspect that they''ll want a meeting sooner rather than later. "Makes sense," I said. "Who''s next on that list?" The Family wishes to speak with you. "They always do," I muttered. "Yeah, okay, let''s... do a meeting with the doc and the Japanese samurai in the morning if that works for them, or in the afternoon if it doesn''t. Timezone fuckery and all that. Then the Family around noon. Anyone else?" Vanguard Deus Ex recently sent a request via text for a meeting. I blinked, then regretted it when I get some water in my eyes. "She''s back on Earth?" I asked. No. But her station is nearing Earth. Enough to make a videocall possible. She''s requesting a meeting at any time, at your convenience. "Huh. Yeah, okay. Talking to the pipsqueak might be worth the time." Deus Ex was a weird one. So far, she''d always been... kind of a superior? As far as samurai had superiors, that was. She was several tiers above me, had years more experience, and was teched-out to an obscene level. I was very, very far from being able to do shit in space, and here she was, with a station that could move from Earth to Mars and back. Still, for all that she was way stronger... it was hard to take her seriously sometimes. She was too small and cutesy, even if I was pretty sure she was more hardcore than even some of the most badass metal-chewing super soldier types I''d met. I shut the shower off, then stepped out. "What time is it?" I asked. Almost two PM, currently. "Oh... well shit, for some reason it feels like today''s over," I said. "Right... well, in that case, let''s get some food in me, then see about doing some work at home. I feel like shit''s gonna get busy sooner than I''d like, and I want to get as much done as I can while I can. *** Chapter Fifteen – I’m Not Wiser, Just Older Chapter Fifteen - I''m Not Wiser, Just Older "Oldmaxxing is the fashion trend, inspired by men of the 80s and 90s. It includes a focus on browns and earth-tones, belts and simple walking shoes, and most eye-catchingly, the fashion often includes a particular Oldmax hairstyle where the front of the scalp is shaved back along the crown to give the impression that that oldmaxer is losing hair, while the rest of their hair is left to grow longer than usual and is combed back. Oldmaxers often combine this with the habit of smoking traditional paper cigarettes and listening to vintage early-2000s music. -Excerpt from ''Styles of the 2030s'', Second Ed. 2044 *** Wake up, Catherine. I winced, then blinked my eyes open. It was dark, but I still recognized that I was in my bedroom. Lucy was pressed up next to me, and I''d recognize the feel of her anywhere. I tilted my head up and tried to scan the room. My organic eye was adjusted to the dark, but I still couldn''t see much, which made it weird as my cybernetic eye could pick things out much better. There wasn''t anyone in the room. Which... why had I woken up, then? I was definitely still tired. I''m the one that woke you up. "Oh," I said as I let my head fall back. I had asked Myalis to wake me up the night before at around seven-ish. I''d even gone to bed yesterday, as opposed to early this morning. "God, I''m so fucking stupid," I muttered. "Mm," Lucy said as she rolled over so that she was back to me. I didn''t know if that was agreement or not, but her cold toes against the side of my leg almost did more to wake me up than Myalis talking in my head. "Myalis?" I asked. Yes, Catherine? "Do you have a snooze function?" No. Wake up. "Urgh," I groaned, but without Lucy holding onto me, I didn''t have any real excuse to stay in bed. So I rolled over, then untangled myself from the blankets until I was sitting on the edge. I rubbed my face, then gave in and stood up. Technically I''d gotten enough sleep. I was probably going to wake up on my own soon enough. The problem was, I''d kinda gotten used to just... Cuddling with Lucy for an hour or so in the morning while scrolling through my media feed and overdosing my early-morning brain with brain-rot slop. Sometimes we''d even fuck. But no, I just had to insist on being responsible on my first day off after the whole school thing. What was I even thinking? Complaining about it wouldn''t help any, so I got up and got going. Morning stuff, then breakfast, then getting dressed properly. By the time seven-thirty or so rolled around, I was ready to face the day. Then Lucy ambled out of the bedroom, looking a little lost, with her hair all poofed up on one side and squished in on the other. "Why did you leave?" she asked. It was a bit whiny. "It''s cold." "Nice threat, but I''m too stupid to know what that means, so can you set an alarm for me to remind me to pick Lucy up?" Only because I like Lucy more than you sometimes. I laughed. "Hey, same." By the way, Keiretsu have replied to my message. They will be unable to attend your meeting this morning, but they did send a memo that a member of their group is on their way to North America. Vanguard Radikal, however, is ready to speak to you at your convenience, as long as it''s convenient within the next hour and forty minutes. "Huh, alright," I said. "Let''s get back home and park this thing. There''s a camera setup in the garage, right? Next to the hologram projector thing?" Yes. There is a camera next to the hologram projector thing. "Cool!" I said. It wasn''t long that I was carefully pulling into the parking garage under my massive cat-shaped home. Once the Bastion was settled in, I sat back and gave myself a few seconds to decompress before standing up and heading out. Setting up the camera in the main workshop part of the garage-within-the-garage wasn''t too hard. The UI for stuff I bought through Myalis was always super easy to figure out. A literal kid could stare at it for a few minutes and know how it worked. Once I had an image of myself up and tested it by waving a bit, I placed the call to the doc. It took three rings for him to answer, and that was with a, "Forgive me, but wait just one moment please," spoken in a thick German accent. "No probs, Doc," I said. A few moments later, I had the doc in front of me in miniature as a projected hologram. There was some 3d fuckery going on that made what was behind him appear as well, though in a sort of compressed way. It looked like he was in some sort of... lab, maybe? Like, a really high-tech one, but a lab all the same. "Ah! Stray Cat! It''s a pleasure to see you again." "Yeah, likewise, Radikal," I said. "You doing alright over there?" "Things are well," he replied with a smile. "The last of the mop-up for the Phobos incident went according to plan, and the remains of the moon are now hurtling through space and a trajectory which will have them intercepted by Jupiter in... about three hundred and twenty years." "Uh, that''s not for a minute," I said. "Space is quite large, and orbits quite complex," he said. "How about you? How are things on your end? The Phobos incursion was quite sudden, but you seem to have handled it well." "Yeah, surprisingly, things... went alright," I said. I pulled over a wheeled stool that was parked next to that mech leg I was working on, then sat down on it. "We... lived. Got a lot of locals to help, and things worked out. I mean, there were losses, but..." "But the efforts we took prevented these from being disastrous," he said with a nod. "Yeah," I said. "I guess we did alright." *** Chapter Sixteen – Die Welt ist im Wandel Chapter Sixteen - Die Welt ist im Wandel "Sure, we live in a multicultural, multilingual world. But if you don''t speak the same language as me, then I still think you''re a weirdo." --Witch streamer CielCiel minutes before being cancelled, 2036 *** I leaned back a little in my stool. "So, Doc, how have things been, besides the whole Phobos situation?" Radikal blinked owlishly, then casually shrugged. "Things have generally been well. There''s always a slow return to some form of normalcy after such a big event. And the Phobos incident was one that the Nachtwa?chternetzwerk willingly chose to embark on. There''s some political barking about our Storm device, but it''s hardly the first time we''ve built or purchased something capable of causing mass destruction." "Yeah, I can see why people would bitch about it, but it''s kind of pointless to whine about one nuke when you''re sitting on a stockpile of them," I said. "Exactly, yes," he said. "In any case, the state of things is returning to the way we like them." "What''s that mean?" I asked. "There are fewer threats of human extinction this week than there were in the last. Our doomsday clock has slid back several microseconds." "Doomsday clock, huh? What hour''s it at?" I asked. Radikal chucked. "Twenty-three fifty-nine." "Ah, well shit," I said as I reached up to rub my face. "You know, I started to go to school this week. For the first time in... anyway. Uh, learning that we''re so close to everything going tits up kind of makes that seem like a waste of time." The doc shook his head. "No. I believe, firmly, that there is a serious need for us Vanguard to have real, stable lives. I''m not a top-tier one myself, but I have been a Samurai for ten years now. Eleven? Ah, it has been a while. I''ve seen some young souls become Vanguards and lose a great part of themselves as they race to the top. They come to their senses eventually, or they''re the kind of person for whom such a high level of power feels natural, but I think that taking things slow and keeping a firm grasp on your humanity is important. If your way of doing this is to attend school and be surrounded by normal people, then so be it." "I don''t think there''s much risk of me forgetting my humanity or whatever. Or leaving normal people behind," I said. I had the kittens to look after, and Lucy to keep me... more or less grounded. "Ah, I shouldn''t have presumed. Forgive me," he said. "In any case, what is that I see behind you? The leg of a mechanized system?" "Okay," I said. "And that''s the start of a wave?" "Yes, a wave," he said. "Because there is then a race to apply this new technology to everything. It becomes a craze, usually going too far before it recedes and a new normal is achieved." "So like... hover cars?" I asked. "A good example! The technology was innovative when I was still young, and it was applied to everything. Now it has been scaled back to more reasonable productions. Mostly automobiles and some utility items. No one speaks of flying cities anymore, not since Atlantica was built at great expense and proved to be problematic in practice." Right, that big floating city over the Atlantic ocean. Kind of a hot mess from what I remembered, but also like... kinda popular as a nation-less citystate for some folk. "Obviously, when the Nachtwa?chternetzwerk built our flying base of operations, we utilized similar, but more advanced, technology. Afterall, the purpose of technology is to better allow you to accomplish a goal. More efficiency, more effectiveness, lower cost and upkeep. These are all factors that come into play when adopting something new. In that respect, the goal of the Protectors is slowly coming to fruition." "Their goal?" I asked. "Ain''t that just to keep us alive?" "No. Don''t you recall the words your AI companion first spoke to you?" I blinked. "I think I was impaled with a metal pole at the time," I said. "And I wasn''t expecting a voice in my head." He didn''t even hesitate at the admission. I guess he had been a samurai for longer, so my origin story didn''t sound too special. "Each AI says something slightly different, I believe, and there''s the linguistic difference as well. Mine said, ''Ich werde Ihnen helfen, die Menschheit zu erheben, damit Sie Ihre Heimatwelt vor der Bedrohung durch die Antithese verteidigen ko?nnen,'' or something similar. Essentially, ''Ich werde dir helfen, die Menschheit zu erheben, damit du deine Heimatwelt vor der Bedrohung durch die Antithese verteidigen kannst.'' That is not the same as assisting humanity itself, but assisting me, and you, to assist humanity." "I guess I get it," I said. "It''s giving a gun to a cop for him to keep the place safe, rather than doing it yourself." "That analogy works... to some extent, yes." "I''m not good at those," I admitted. "But yeah... I guess we''re helping in our own way?" He nodded. "As long as we''re not giving people too many tools with which to kill themselves, I think we''ll be fine. There will be more need of us in the future. Take this moment of calm for what it is; time to let yourself learn and unwind and sharpen the skills that you will need later, because later always comes sooner than you might think." *** 1If the German is wrong, it''s the German''s fault for having such a complicated language. Also, my other story, Magical Girl Rending Nightmare, just ended! Replacing it with Fluff starting next week! We have 10 advanced chapters of Fluff on the patreon already! Chapter Seventeen – Grasping at Paper Straws Chapter Seventeen - Grasping at Paper Straws "No luxury has survived recessions and economic downturns better than the humble drive-through coffee, because when you only have five dollars to your name, you can still afford a four dollar cuppa." --Except from The Second Big Depression, by Economist Wayne Wright, 2026 *** "So... yeah, bye man," I said. Radikal smiled right back. "Yes. It was genuinely nice to speak with you, even if we strayed from our initial topic. Have a good... ah, afternoon, Stray Cat." "See ya, Doc," I said before terminating the call. Leaning back after the image of the old guy blinked away, I reached up and brushed a hand through my hair. That was my early afternoon chore done. We''d ended up talking for an hour where I was initially expecting the call to last like, ten minutes at most, but Radikal was surprisingly fun to talk to. We have jack shit in common other than being Samurai, and yet I could see myself being his friend. In a ''grab a beer after work'' kind of way. I was just standing up when my projector blinked to life right in front of me. On instinct, I reached for my Trenchmaker, but it was just Radikal again. "Stray Cat? Forgive me, please, but I realized as I terminated our call that there was something I forgot to communicate with you." "Oh, uh, shit, go ahead," I said. "Yes, yes, again I''m sorry. I was speaking with Susano this morning, when he happened to be awake as I was, and he mentioned to me that a samurai from the Keiretsu is heading to New Montreal, and it''s possible that she would be showing up at your place to meet you." I shrugged. "Alright? Anyone I should worry about?" Radikal seemed to consider that. "I don''t believe so? It might be best to consider them as a friendly ally coming for a visit." "I can handle that," I said. The house was clean enough, and I didn''t mind making more samurai friends. "Good, good," he said with a nod. "In that case, goodbye for real. Have a nice afternoon." "Ciao," I said as his image winked out. "So... who''s coming to visit?" From what I can glean from public records, she''s a long-term member of the Keiretsu. An experienced vanguard who elected not to participate in the Martian crusade. A ''she'' huh? Well, whatever. I''d see them when they showed up. Placing my hands on my hips, I stretched my lower back out, then twisted left and right. "Okay, it''s... almost one. I should grab something on the way over to the Family, yeah?" Heading over in the Bastion would make the most sense, but if things went long and Lucy needed a ride back, I could just send the ship over to pick her up. Which left my bike. The bike was also conveniently able to fly into aerial drive-throughs, so I could grab something unhealthy on the way over. I deserved it after that physical torture I''d been through in yesterday''s class. Before I left, I ran upstairs and got changed. I''d worn old jeans and a loose t-shirt for the meeting with Radikal because it was all over screens and he was probably not a stickler for looks. When meeting the Family? Well, if Emoscythe was here, she''d probably have something to say about projecting power with my appearance or something. Basically, if I showed up looking like some nobody girl that was clueless, they''d treat me exactly like that. I slid into a suit of exo-armour and then shrugged on a long coat with my Stray Cat logo on the back before tucking a Laser Pointer SMG in the small of my back and replacing my Trench Maker where it would be within easy reach in a thigh holster. It wasn''t exactly like showing up in a war mech, but the armour gave me a couple of inches of height, and it was sleek as shit. I looked myself over before leaving. Emoscythe had helped with the image for this one a while back, and I was rocking the dangerous bounty-hunter look. I liked it. I wouldn''t ever admit it out loud, but it made me feel kind of cool. Obviously, being actually cool was about being chill with yourself to the point where you weren''t trying to be cool at all, so I wasn''t going to open my dumb mouth and let people know. If anyone asked, this armour and coat and shit was all the most efficient stuff I had access to at the moment. With a nod to myself, I moved back downstairs, straddled my bike, then shot out of our building and up past the midday air traffic. "Myalis, can you poke the Family and let them know that I''m on my way? Just want to check in on things, make sure our projects are moving along at a good pace." On a scale of one to sixteen, how passive-aggressive should I be with the message? "Uh... like, a two?" I said. No. I''d rather go all-in. Message sent. What did that even mean? I... didn''t feel like I had the energy to untangle Myalis'' fun at the moment though. I turned my bike down and flew over to a drive-through coffee place that didn''t have too long of a line, and five minutes (and a couple of thousand credits) later, I was flying with one hand on the handles and the other holding onto an ice cappuccino. Fuck the bounty hunter look, this sugary shit was tasty. The Family''s HQ in the middle of the city looked busier than I remembered it being. Traffic around the building was constant, and it wasn''t just hovercars and vans. There were a few vehicles that were definitely some samurai''s ride. Jolly Monarch had to be around because there was half of a chess set floating nearby, each ''piece'' the size of a suburban home but made entirely of metal and probably filled with enough firepower to level a small town, and the ''samurai only'' parking on the roof only had a couple of spots free. I parked my bike in between a large armoured van painted in a deep black with no obvious windows or doors and a sweet little blue roadster with sick flame decals. No idea who either belonged to. New samurai in the region? Or just more New Montreal samurai that I hadn''t met? Actually, it might have been out-of-towners. The call just before the Phobos incident had brought in a lot of people from outside of the region to help, and that could mean that the Family was playing hotel. I climbed off my bike, then slid open the front of my helmet so that I could sip through the straw of my ice cap... the damned straw had turned to mush at the bottom though. "Fucking paper straws," I muttered. I was all for saving nature and shit, but only when it wasn''t inconvenient. I ended up drinking from the lip of the cup like a barbarian as I made my way over to the main entrance. Within, I found three people in suits waiting for me. They all smiled corpo little smiles and greeted me with handshakes. One of them, a slightly older guy with greying hair, spoke for the others once the introductions were over with. "How can we assist you today, Miss Stray Cat?" he asked. "Just want an in-person update," I said. "Where is Eric, or Piper?" I asked. The two of them had been my sorta-official liaisons with the Family. I wasn''t exactly attached to either, but it was easier to deal with a familiar face than not. "They''re on their way," the man assured me. "Your arrival was unexpected, and neither were on-duty at the time." "Uh-huh," I said. The trio started to lead me further into the building, but I wasn''t sure where we were going, exactly. Fortunately, a few corridors in, we were met by Eric who ran over while adjusting his tie. "Miss Stray Cat," he said with a nervous smile. "I''ll take it from here, gents." The trio hesitated, but clearly Eric here had some sort of leg up on them because they slinked away after a while. "Sorry about that," he said. "I understand that you''re not fond of overly formal arrangements. Ah, but we''re being run ragged right now." "Things are bad?" I asked. "Things are busy," he said. "I... am permitted to speak candidly?" "Yeah, go ahead." "The Family is using the end of the current crisis and its involvement within it to bolster its own reputation and standing. That means a massive PR campaign, lots of outreach, and we need to ensure that all of the work we do now is above the usual standard, to avoid any reproach from any competition." "You''ve got competition?" I asked. He shrugged. "The government?" Well shit, that made some sort of sense. "Alright. Well, I hope I didn''t give you guys too much work." "You did, ma''am, but trust me, the higher-ups couldn''t be more pleased. You''ll be happy to note that their pleasure reflects well on your own Family-related projects." *** Chapter Eighteen - How Will You Wipe Tomorrow? Chapter Eighteen - How Will You Wipe Tomorrow? "The Civic Response & Instability Surveillance and Intervention System (C.R.I.S.I.S) system was first conceived of in the late 90s by the CIA to measure the level of civil unrest in a population. The purpose being to better manipulate public perceptions and measure if and when to shift media attention so as to calm the general populace. In later years, this same system was used by the more city-state aligned nations of North America to warn political entities to keep people calm in the face of the Antithesis threat, scarcity, and civil outcry." --The CRISIS and You pamphlet, 2039 *** Eric seemed to know where he was going, so I continued to follow him. The all-white corridor we were in shifted as he took a turn into a large room with walls lined with floor-to-ceiling posters in glass-fronted frames. Posters of different Samurai, most of them in cool, heroic poses. This was obviously some sort of central hub space, with a dozen corridors meeting in this one room. There was seating room in the middle and not one person sitting there. Instead, the people here were moving around with some speed, though a few stopped to gawk at me. "The Family really is busy," I said. There had to be a hundred people slipping through this room. Corpo sorts that looked like they wanted nothing more than to be behind a desk. There were enough credits spent on suits here to fund a small war in a third-world country. "We are," he said. "But don''t worry, your projects are still flagged as top-priority, even with everything else happening. In fact, they''re more important now." I wanted to believe him, because that would be convenient and nice, but I didn''t grow up with convenient, nice things happening to me most of the time. "Why''s that?" I asked. Eric looked to me, then glanced around the room. "Might I ask you a favour?" he asked. "Sure," I said. "There''s passive listening throughout the building. For security, obviously, but there''s a certain amount of... listening-in that happens as well. Would it be possible for you to... grant us some privacy? Nothing I have to say reflects poorly on the Family, of course, but, you know." "I think I can manage something like that. Or Myalis can, at any rate." I can. Though to avoid suspicion, I''ll merely muddle any currently active recordings. Consider yourself somewhat private. I gestured to Eric. "Go on," I said. The man stared with slightly widened eyes, then nodded. "Thank you. And share my appreciation with your AI as well. Um... yes, well, onto the meat of things, right?" "Uh-huh," I said. "So, the Family have poured ressources into the repair, refurbishment, and replacement of the city''s sewer system, as well as its overall maintenance. We basically strong-armed a government contract to take care of the work in exchange for a fair reimbursement later. Honestly, we''re losing a bit of money on the surface, but I think the good PR and any technology we gain from it will make this worthwhile in the long run. And it''s leading to amicable communications with several corporations throughout the city. A short and long-term gain project like this is just good business." "Yeah, that makes sense. But the way you''re being all cagey tells me that it''s not all good news." Eric rubbed at his chin. "You''re right. The Family... is kind of afraid of you." "What?" I asked, surprised. I mean, on one level, I got it. I had nukes on demand and didn''t shy away from shooting politicians on live TV. That left a mark, I bet. But on the other, the Family dealt with a lot of samurai. Probably hundreds of them across North America alone. Some of those were big names. "You''ve become exceptionally popular, at least locally, and your appearances have encouraged... a certain rise in the amount of vigilantism in the area." I was... just me. Sure, I''d probably made waves, but nothing that big, right? Blinking, I opened a browser on my Augs, then shifted through the massive collection of tabs I had open. Past memes, past lewds, past cute videos I was saving to send to Lucy the next time she was cranky... and finally to the Official Unofficial Samurai Ranking Site. It was a long-ass list of samurai names that you could scroll down for a while, listed by order of current popularity with green and red numbers to the side showing how far up and down someone had moved on the rankings in the last week. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The site, as far as I could tell, worked by collating polls and checking for the number of times a Samurai''s name showed up on various media sites. There was more to it, of course. Weekly popularity contests, merch sale figures, appearances on the news. I bet that there were ways to game the list, but I also bet that most samurai didn''t give a solitary shit. Some... yeah, I also bet that Emoscythe Mordeath Noir had this list fed directly into her brain with by-the-second updates. She seemed the sort. Speaking of which, as I scrolled down, I saw her in the top three hundred or so. That was damned impressive, considering that the list had something like thirty thousand samurai on it. There were more than that, world-wide, but a lot of samurai kept out of the limelight. Some probably had their AI scrub their media presence too so that they''d remain ghosts, and some probably lived pretty normal lives outside of the occasional outing to fuck up a hive or something. Stray Cat ^ 1278 places I blinked. That was a pretty spectacular jump. It still only placed me a bit about the five thousand mark, but like... fuck, that was huge, wasn''t it? Did this mean that I was a local celebrity now? I was pretty sure that most people south of New Montreal wouldn''t know who I was, but still. "So, being popular suddenly made the Family kick shit into gear?" I asked. "To some extent? To be honest, it''s more like a confluence of factors. Your rising popularity is one, but there''s been a noted rise in tensions in the city. Gang warfare is up seven hundred percent from last month, polls are showing a marked increase in displeasure. Shows and entertainment with violent vigilantism as a main plot point have had a strong increase in viewership." "Oh," I said. So it wasn''t the Family deciding to do good so much as they decided that when shit went down, they wouldn''t be the target of said shit. Which, ironically, involved handling the shit situation. "So how are the sewers coming along?" I asked. "One point five percent of the city-wide sewer network has been restored to full functionality," he said. "Keep in mind that at the start of operations, once we finished inspecting the system, sixty-two percent was deemed operational at full capacity, and some twenty-three percent was deemed... technically capable of functioning." "One percent doesn''t sound like much," I said. "It''s a fair amount, considering the time that has passed," Eric defended. "But we also have to admit that a large part of that increase comes from some simple but necessary repairs that we''ve been able to do relatively rapidly." "Right," I said. "So it''s only going to slow down?" He nodded, even if he looked reluctant to do so. "Basically, yes. The best predictions we have account for a one to two percent per week repair rate." I worked my jaw, then opened the calculator app on my augs. Sixty-two plus twenty-three was... eighty-five and then that minus one hundred... "So we have fifteen percent of the sewer system super messed up, and we''re fixing it at one percent a week?" "More or less. We''re aiming for three percent monthly." "That''s... five months to get the sewers fixed. Hell, five months for just the fucked parts." Eric didn''t seem to know what to say as an excuse, so he just shrugged. "That''s the best estimate we have with current resources. The damage is extensive." "So, more realistically, we''re talking half a year to nine months?" Eric''s lips twitched into the start of a smile that he quickly aborted. "Essentially, yes." "And in that time, a lot of people will be without working plumbing?" That wiped the smile away for real. "Unfortunately. But this really is the best we can do." I kinda believed him. Sure, he might have been bullshitting, but it all sounded plausible enough. I''d have to look and see if progress was actually being made, though. "Well, at least we''re helping some people," I said. "That''s the goal. The Family is working hard on outreach at the moment, to cool down any... unrest in the general populace. We''re working on food distribution, water, and entertainment." "Entertainment?" I asked. "Circus, to go with the bread," he said. "I think that the higher-ups believe that New Montreal can''t afford any major unrest, not at the moment." "Yeah, that makes sense," I said. "So, what''s all this about me being the cause for unrest anyway? I don''t recall encouraging people to get into a brick-slinging mood?" *** Chapter Nineteen - Want To See My Fanart Collection? Chapter Nineteen - Want To See My Fanart Collection? "To ''go viral'' means that a video, image, or piece of information is circulated rapidly online from user to user and platform to platform. But as the modern internet grew and became more segregated, a piece of media that went viral might fail to reach some corners of the internet. Going ''super viral'' means that the meme or piece of information transcends these borders. It is so sharable and so memeable, that it breaks past any artificial delineations designed to keep things apart." -On Super Memes, 2049 *** Eric stared at me for a moment, then started walking again. I hoped to catch up to him. It seemed like he was just giving me a tour of the floor, really. Though he might also have been parading me in front of all his coworkers. I didn''t have a great impression of how the Family''s internal shit worked, but I did have the impression that anyone that worked closely with one or more samurai would quickly climb the corporate totem pole. "Your showing online, just before the Phobos Incident became international news... actually, your warning and call to action is what made it international news. Since then, pundits have been arguing about samurai access to weapons of mass destruction, again, and your video appears in several clips." "So a lot of folks saw that? So what?" I asked. "Well, it was big news in several ways. It went super-viral. A samurai cutting into media feeds is noteworthy in the tech sector, the announcement fit into general news well, the end-of-the-world potential was a hit amongst the religious and the fear-mongering algorithms, and there were several other samurai in the clip, just hanging out in the background, including some unknowns." "Right, I guess that was Gros Baton''s big debut." "His name is still hotly debated online," he said. "Since there''s no primary source confirming it. It''s made him very popular with certain groups." "Certain groups?" I asked. I didn''t want to know, but I had to ask. "There''s a lot of fanart," Eric admitted. I shook my head. I was right, I didn''t want to know. "Okay, so I popped up and that went viral. Shit like that happens all the time. I remember seeing samurai show up on my feeds pretty often growing up if they did something big." "Yes, but this is different," Eric said. "You executed a moderately high-ranking political official on live television. Then there''s your speech at the funeral service for those who passed during the incident. It was heavily televised. Live viewership was in the tens of millions. And your speech, following after Miss Emoscythe Mordeath Noir''s, was spoken in a way that encouraged... dissidents to pick up arms." "Oops," I said. "You''re giving us a lot of work," Eric said. "The Family, most corporations, and the government, work very hard to reduce anti-establishment sentiments and to fold individualism within a certain range of acceptable deviations. You... kicked that out of position, and now there''s a large effort to course-correct, and that effort is being pushed against. This isn''t all on you. There has been a resurgence in anti-government and anti-corporate sentiment that has been growing in the last ten or so years. It''s just that right now, a lot of those sentiments are coming to a head, a boiling point." I rubbed at my face. "Okay. And what do I do about it?" Eric shrugged. "The higher ups won''t give you orders. But if you could avoid making any media appearances, that would be nice." "I''ll see what I can do," I said. "Thank you. Try to especially avoid starting any rebellions?" I snorted, then jumped when I noticed the time on my augs. "Ah, fuck. I''ve got to go. Can''t stick around here for too much longer. Need to pick up my girl in under an hour." "Of course," Eric said. "Let me guide you to the roof. Next time you come over, feel free to send me a message first? Or to Piper, she''s the other agent currently on file, and I don''t mind working with her." "But not others?" I asked. Eric shifted a bit, and some of that awkwardness I''d first noticed in him was back. "Miss Piper is... friendly and capable of sharing. It isn''t everyone who has that same attitude here." Aww, poor moron had a crush. He led me to an elevator then up to the roof-lobby floor where I shook his hand and said goodbye. It had been... productive enough, actually. I''d gotten up to date on what shit was going down. It didn''t look like I was urgently needed either. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I got on my bike, noted that one samurai car had left, only to be replaced by a sleek little Japanese-looking hover bike that probably belonged to another samurai I didn''t know. Well, whatever. I kicked the bike into gear and sped off to race back home. I got back just as the Bastion was starting itself up, ready to drive itself over to the CIAL campus to pick Lucy up. I paused, opened one of the bay doors on the side, then parked my bike in the back where a few universal clamps came up to hold it in place. The Bastion was moving as I made my way to the cockpit, a hand on the wall to keep myself steady as the ship shook through the air. I sat down in the cockpit, but didn''t bother touching the controls, the autopilot was running already, and I trusted it not to crash me into a building. And if it did, chances were we''d just go through. The Bastion was pretty well armoured. It wasn''t too long before the school came into view up ahead. As the ship circled the large Samurai-Only landing spot, I noticed a small group of people standing not too far off to one side. One of them had a distinctive poof of dark brown hair that I''d recognize anywhere. The Bastion landed with a hiss, and I saw Lucy wave goodbye to the group she''d been chatting with before she ran over. When she came in, I surprised her by wrapping my arms around her shoulders and pulling her in for a kiss. She squeaked in surprise, then melted into my arms. "You scared me!" she said once the kiss ended. "Oops," I deadpanned. Lucy jabbed a finger into my ribs, which really didn''t do much when I was still armoured from my visit to the Family. "I didn''t think you''d come to pick me up yourself," she said. "I found the time," I said with a casual shrug and with no mention of the speed I''d flown earlier or the traffic laws I''d ignored to get here on time. "So, made some friends?" "Yup!" Lucy said, all chipper and happy. "Most of them are from my cooking class, but there''s a couple that I''d met that are from other classes. I need to start prepping for another event like that cookies-and-cupcakes thing I did the other day. People are starting to recognize each other, but we need to push that a lot more." "Uh-huh," I said. I hadn''t let go of the hug yet, and Lucy didn''t seem to mind. "And what''s the end-goal? I mean, you''re socializing, making friends, setting up a big rep, but where are you going with it?" "Oh, that''s an easy one," Lucy said. She leaned up a little and gave my cheek a peck. "When there''s an inevitable uprising, I want to be on the winning side, and that means being just one step removed from the people running it." "Huh... you know, I think I had someone tell me today, very explicitly, not to start an uprising." Lucy shrugged. "So? You''re not doing anything, just being a good samurai and going to school and being all sexy and tough." "I feel like I''m going to get painted by association," I said. "I''ll try to be a bit more subtle, then," Lucy said. "Did anyone ever tell you that you''re really hot?" I asked. Lucy grinned. "You know, I was thinking something real similar. There''s something about a girl in power armour that''s real delicious." I laughed, then scooped Lucy up into a princess carry. She wriggled in my grasp as I brought her to the cockpit by the front. "You are so lucky I have a few last things to take care of," I said. "Or else I''d be having a lot of fun with you right now." "Aww, too busy for little old me?" Lucy asked. "Eh... maybe I can make some time," I said. "I''m good about finding that recently." I soon discovered that the little living quarters tucked into the Bastion had a rather awful fold-out bed. It wasn''t that terrible, but the whole thing bounced uncomfortably as the ship flew, and the mattress was on the thinner side. I didn''t spend too much time concerning myself over that, though. Catherine, as much as I loathe interrupting your... fun, I do have to remind you that you have one final meeting this evening. I groaned. Wasn''t that the meeting with Deus Ex? She''d understand if I put it off a little, right? *** Chapter Twenty - Deus Ex Machinations Chapter Twenty - Deus Ex Machinations "Laziness is the greatest motivator." --Deus Ex, Only words spoken during a press conference before leaving, 2056 *** I should pick up smoking. All the cool old movies had protagonists that would smoke a cigarette in bed after some big sexual conquest, right? Sure, they were in proper beds, not a cot shoved into the corner of a tiny living space, and they weren''t usually doing any sort of conquesting while in a moving vehicle, but I felt like the principle of it stood. "You''re thinking something silly," Lucy said. She reached over and poked my cheek. "I can tell." "No I''m not," I said. She poked me some more. "You are. I can tell." Lucy sat up while smiling, then shivered before reaching over to drape her school uniform''s coat over herself. "Okay. I''m going home. I need a shower and the Kittens have probably gotten into some sort of trouble. You can''t trust Daniel to take care of them this long without something slipping past him." "Yeah, fair," I said. I sighed, then started to look for the armour I''d been wearing before. It was spread out across much of the floor at the moment. Groaning, I decided to give up on the idea. I was home anyway, right? So I picked up the gear and piled it up more or less neatly so that I could carry it out. I wanted a shower too, actually. I got dressed anyway, then picked up the armour and headed out. And that''s the state I was in when I ran into Deus Ex. I blinked, then blinked again as I took her in. Deus Ex was standing in the parking garage, arms crossed and looking mightily unimpressed. She was in an all-white set of armour, plates over white cloth, with a screen on her inner arm and a few ports here and there, and floating next to her were a pair of guns longer than my bike with a bore large enough to fit my head into. "Stray Cat," she said. "Deus," I replied. "Didn''t expect you to show up in person." I shuffled past her, bringing my armour to the garage in the back where I dropped it all onto a workbench. "I''m not," she said as she followed. I half-turned to eye her. "You''re not? Fancy hologram?" "No, this is a clone body," she said. "I left a few of the older models on Earth when I left with my station." "Right," I said. Fuck she could be creepy when she wanted to be, huh? I was basically talking to a puppet, then. Or was it something more complicated than just a puppet? I glanced over at her from the corner of my eye. Deus Ex looked like a precocious young teenager. Chubby cheeks, four-foot-something, no chest. She looked like she was someone''s bratty little sister. I was pretty sure she was at least half a decade older than me. "So, how''d things end up on Mars? I haven''t been paying it as much attention as I probably should." Deus Ex stepped into the workshop, eyes trailing over all the tools and the half-disassembled mecha leg in the middle. "Not too poorly. But I can''t say it went well, either. We lost a dozen good samurai. Some of them were in the top ten or so most powerful of us. The loss is going to take a while to recover from." "Oh. Shit," I said. "It needed to be done," she said simply. "And it has been. Mars'' surface has been turned into glass. The first half metre of topsoil or so, at least. There are a few areas where we need to punch much deeper to root out some hives, and even though we''re done, we''re still monitoring the planet for any potential antithesis growths. They will show up. It''s almost impossible to eradicate an infection fully." "Almost impossible?" I asked. "We don''t want to toss Mars into the sun, so we''re doing what we can," Deus Ex said. "I think that the Protector AI tend to oversell humanity, or any race''s, ability to actually defeat the antithesis. They''re far too persistent to be removed." "That''s fucked," I said. She shrugged. "It is what it is. That does mean that we''ll never run out of work. Ideally, in a few centuries, we''ll be able to just sit back and only venture out to slap down any little surges as they show up. I think that''s how it is for some other civilisations that had a similar program to ours." The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. I rubbed at my chin, then turned and hopped up onto a workbench. "So, other than the loredumping about unimportant shit, why''d you come over?" "I caught up with what you''ve been up to this past week," she said. "Okay. Bit creepy, but go on," I said. "When I first met you, I gave it fifty-fifty odds that you wouldn''t make it through the first day, let alone your first week. And somehow, mostly thanks to making capable friends, you managed. And then you continued to make more capable friends who carried you through." I frowned. "Some of that was on my own merit, right?" I asked. "Now you seem to be forging ties with other groups while building up your own," she continued, entirely ignoring my question. "I don''t think you''re doing it on purpose. I don''t think you do much on purpose, really." "Hey now." "But you''re... charismatic in an animalistic way. I think that''s genuinely useful. You encourage others to act, either by example or via spite, and I think that there''s a genuine space for a samurai with that kind of skill set in the world, especially right now." I shook my head. "Deus, what are you on about?" I asked. "You didn''t come all the way here from Mars to give me an insult sandwich, did you?" Deus Ex pouted, which made her look about... what, fifteen years younger? "No. I came to ask you a favour of sorts, one which will help you as well." "Uh-huh," I said as I crossed my arms. "Go on." "There are a number of responsibilities shared amongst the higher tier samurai of any given region. It''s a way to keep each other accountable. I happen to be the samurai in charge of New Montreal as a whole." "Wait, seriously?" I asked. "Someone has to be." "Yeah, but I wasn''t expecting it to be you," I said. Deus Ex stared, her expression flat. "I''m probably in the top thousand or so samurai on Earth. Near the bottom of that, certainly, but still. There are more than a hundred mega cities on Earth, and most samurai don''t care to be the representative of any of them." I supposed that kind of made sense. "So New Montreal is important?" She snorted. "Deus no," she said. "We''re barely tickling the definition of mega city here, not compared to plenty of other places. New Montreal is only important because we''re north of Mega New York and a few other east-coast actual mega cities. We serve as a wall for the antithesis coming in from the north. We barely produce anything here." "Okay," I said. Felt a little mean to hear my home talked about that way, but she was probably not wrong. "Didn''t know there was such a hierarchy going on." "It''s nothing official. I think one in ten samurai actually care. But for those of us that do, it''s a neat way to keep things organized and functional. In any case, one of the duties of a city representative is caring for and elevating new samurai. I usually make a point of meeting any up-and-comers, so that they at least know to reach out to me if something happens." I nodded slowly. "And that''s it?" "No... I''ve been somewhat neglecting part of my duties while off-world. Fortunately... hmm, how do I put this." She pinched her chin between forefinger and thumb. "I always put one-hundred percent effort into everything I do." "Okay." "Unless there''s any logical way for me to avoid having to do something by foisting the work onto someone else. In which case, I will always do that." "That doesn''t sound like one-hundred percent," I said. Deus Ex shrugged. "I''m only one girl. I can only be in thirty-six places at once." I squinted at her. Was she fucking with me? "Anyway, I''m here to foist some work off onto you." "No thanks," I said. "You don''t seem to understand the current disparity in abilities when it comes to either of our capabilities with regards to refusing work," she said. It took me a moment to untangle that. "Are you saying that you''re better at being lazy than I am?" "Like an amateur next to a master," she agreed. "I''m not doing whatever it is you want," I said. "I made sure to schedule things around your little school outings," she said. "Because I''m nice like that." *** Chapter Twenty-One - Babysitting the Nukes Chapter Twenty-One - Babysitting the Nukes "LF babysitter, 5 kids, no smokers, druggies, college dropouts, or filthy liberals. $7/hr." Facemeta Marketplace post, 2027 *** "If you''re going to make me do your work for you, you''d better have some serious bribes lined up," I said. "My schedule right now is filled to bursting." "So is everyone''s," Deus Ex said. "But I can sympathize a little. I rarely have a day with fewer than eighteen hours of work time lined up in it. Sundays excepting, of course." I wanted to pinch the bridge of my nose. I also wanted to pinch Deus Ex''s chubby little cheeks, but if she didn''t have some sort of pain-regulating cyberware, then I''d eat my hat. I''d have to buy a hat first, but the point stood. "What even is the job?" I asked. "There are half a dozen new samurai around New Montreal, which is a feat. We usually gain one or two a year, but the global incursion and the previous local incursion increased our numbers substantially. Before you there was Gomorrah, and before her Cause Player. There have been more since. Now, telling samurai what to do is a lost cause. We don''t take well to orders." "You don''t say." "Let me rephrase that. We don''t take well to orders unless they''re reasonable and backed with a big stick. In this situation we''re both in right now, I am both very reasonable and have a very big stick." Could I aim the Big Gun at Deus Ex''s station and get away with it? "Right now, with my main body off-planet, the local samurai newbies don''t have any directions to work towards. That has, historically, caused issues." I perked up a little at that. "What kinds of issues?" Deus Ex hummed. "Give someone lots of power, a complete detachment from responsibility, and the drive to act even if there''s no cause for them to act towards, and that person will find something to use their powers on. That usually means massive destabilization. We all hate the corps, but you can only blow up so many skyscrapers before it starts causing issues." "Uh-huh," I said. "And we don''t want that?" "No. The other problem is that new samurai tend to, briefly, believe that they''re immortal or untouchable. Just because higher-tier samurai tend to respond to threats to newbies with violence doesn''t mean that you''re all immune to bullets to the head. Having your death avenged won''t stop you from being dead in the first place." That... was fair. "Okay," I said. "So... what do you want me to do about all of this?" Deus Ex gestured vaguely off to one side. "Babysit." "No," I said. "I''ve done that for most of my life, and it was for actual babies and kids. I''m not going to do it for adults." The little shit had the audacity to roll her eyes. "I meant that figuratively. Really, I just need you to check up on the newbies. Make a point of showing up where they are and make sure they''re not in too much trouble. Maybe direct them towards something constructive to do that won''t get them killed. I did the same for you." I blinked. "Wait! You sent me on a wild goose chase all across the city that second time we met," I said. "Exactly," she said with a nod. "It kept you busy and working on something that was relatively low-level. Low-risk work that was still important and gave you valuable experience." I was very quickly developing a headache. If I actually thought about it... yeah, Deus had helped me. She''d put Lucy and the kittens up in that hotel we stayed at for a while before getting our house. She gave Gomorrah and I a few softball missions, and then told us about Mars before the news broke to everyone else. Fuck, was Deus actually helpful? "You''d be a lot easier to work with if you weren''t such a pain in the ass," I said. "You know, I''ve actually heard something similar before. Never saw the point in complaining about it. I get work done in a rapid and efficient manner. Your whinging changes nothing about that. Besides, what I''m asking you to do is good for you as well." "Yeah?" I asked. "Yes. You''ll be forging alliances and friendships with local samurai who are close to your own rank. You''ve made friends with some that are... to put it lightly, above you. People like Grasshopper and Emoscythe. The cabal of newbies out there will eventually grow as well. It''s a little strange, but we as samurai tend to organize ourselves in little cliques that are more or less generational." This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I sniffed. "You have a generation as well?" "Yes," she said. "Though... most of those from this region are dead. It''s only me and maybe four, five others now." "Oh," I said. Deus Ex blinked, and I got a ping on my Augs. When I opened it, I found a semi-transparent page appearing over my vision, the window floating a few feet ahead. It was a list. Local Newbies That Need Babysitting Crackshot Cowboy Gros Baton Hedgehog Princess (Knight) Shy Stray Cat Tankette "Why am I on that list? Wait, I get Grasshopper and like Emoscythe not needing any help, they''re established and shit, but why isn''t Gomorrah on here? She''s been a samurai for like, a few weeks more than me." "She''s mature and capable," Deus Ex said. "And I''m not?" I complained. She just stared. "Sam-O-Ray and Cause Player don''t need babysitting, even if they''re not tier three juggernauts. They''ve found their niche and are smart enough not to bite off more than they can chew," Deus Ex said. "The rest... they''re all over the place. Some need encouragement, some will need to be pointing in a workable direction, others might need to be calmed down and told to chill." She shrugged. "You know, I''m not the right kind of person for this," I said. "Gomorrah would be better. And I''m not just saying that to avoid the work." That was a nice bonus. "Yeah, maybe. But Gomorrah isn''t as personable. She might do better with someone like Hedgehog, maybe. He seems like the sort that would take someone serious better, but for the rest? I think you''ll do." "I''ve got school," I said. "I don''t particularly care," Deus Ex replied. I wondered if throttling her clone actually hurt the real her? I settled for giving her the finger. "Fuck off. I''ve got my own shit going on too." "I told you already, I set up a schedule that won''t interfere too much with your stuff. It''s a part-time job at most. And it''s not forever. I''m not dropping all of my responsibilities. When the next generation of samurai show up, I''ll foist them onto someone else." "Wow, you are transparent about this, huh?" I asked. She grinned. "I am nothing if not honest. Anyway, here''s the schedule for the meetings." I got another ping, this time a calendar file with dates and times for various meet-ups. It looked like there was one every free day for the next two weeks. Including tonight. "What the hell? Tonight?" I asked. "Did you have anything else planned?" Deus Ex asked. "Yes! Sex! Lots and lots of it!" I said. The girl''s nose crinkled. "Disgusting," she said. "This is a far better use of your time. There are even better ways to get what you get from sex without having to actually have it." I paused. "What in the fuck are you on about?" I asked. "If you just want pleasure, there''s drugs for that," she said. "Far cleaner and significantly more efficient." "Wow," I said. "I don''t even know where to begin addressing that." "You really don''t have to. In fact, I insist that you don''t. I''ve spoken about it at length with my therapist and we''ve come to the mutual understanding that I''m right about it," she said. I paused, rocking back for a moment. "I don''t think that''s how therapy works? You''re not meant to convince the therapist of anything. It''s not a game." "And that attitude is why I''m always winning and you''re here wasting time with a childless marriage." "I''m not actually married," I said. "And I have like... nine kids and a dog." Deus Ex stared at me some more. "Wow," she said, but she said it in a way that was dripping with sarcasm. "You are a mean little gremlin child," I said. "I''ve been called that too," Deus said. She sighed. "Sorry. I''ve been... stressed? I tend to default to being somewhat rude when there''s a lot weighing on me. It''s a bad habit, but also one of those that''s turned out to be useful at times." And now she was sounding all earnest and real and shit. I sighed. "Fine, I get it," I said. "Heh, you believed me so easily," she said, a smug grin right back in place. "Anyway, tonight you''re working with Shy. Good luck. I''ve got to go. Oh... I figured I ought to pay you for this, since credits aren''t actually worth anything but at your level they might still be useful, so... I don''t know, expect delivery in your account for every hour worked. Anyway, I have more important people to talk to." *** Chapter ??? - Two Weeks Battle Royale II Chapter ??? - Two Weeks Battle Royale II Cat stood, dusting herself off, eyes flicking around. The wind carried the soft thump of more parachutes landing. Great. She hated this whole thing, but was making at least a passing effort not to let the fact show. Aliens she could handle. They were, in her limited experience, either snarky, too-powerful beings with no sense of common decency. Or they were annoying shits you could handle by shooting a bunch. She wondered if the same applied to whomever kept dragging her and the others out to this kind of ¡®event.¡¯ Yeah, They definitely deserved a good smacking. Then Elaine landed nearby, and Cat refocused on the moment. Or maybe landed wasn¡¯t the right term. Elaine hit the ground like five tons of smug concrete smashing into a fine-china store. The impact made Cat jump, but Elaine just flipped her rainbow-y hair and flicked away a bit of blood that wasn¡¯t hers. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t look at me like that,¡± she said when she saw Cat giving her a flat look. ¡°You try sky-looting three teams before breakfast.¡± Cat raised her hands in surrender. ¡°Whatever you say, fairy-girl.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± Elaine started, but she was cut off as Julietta started to move, dissolving into a formless mass of flesh and slithering across the ground before she reformed as a bulging mass of muscle behind some nearby cover. ¡°Incoming,¡± she growled. Cat didn¡¯t ask how she knew. She just turned, guns up, eyes scanning. A mechanical whine echoed above and she said some stuff under her breath that would have her censored in most places in the galaxy. Her handgun went back into its sheath on her thigh and she pulled out an unfolding rifle from the small of her back. It wasn¡¯t much bigger, but bigger was always better when it came to calibers and... also some other things. A squad dropped in hard. A bunch of guys in chrome-black exosuits, jetpacks still hissing, guns already hot. Their faces were hidden by visored helmets, but Cat imagined they were smiling smugly under there. Then one landed too close to Julietta. It was a bad call on his part. Fortunately it was the last call he ever made. She tackled him mid-landing, cracked his armor open like a peanut, and hurled most of his torso into a tree. Cat stepped forward, leveled her rifle, and opened fire. One shot took out a knee joint. Another blew the pilot¡¯s helmet off. The others took cover fast, but it wasn¡¯t faster than bullets. She started to wonder if the other contestants had anything going for them other than a bit of cool tech and a lack of brain cells. She wasn¡¯t exactly the scariest chick around, but her friends here? Elaine was flinging magic around like tinsel, Julietta was doing... bio things all over the place, and Ariane moved so fast that all she left in her wake were slightly-bloodies giblets. Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Anyone seeing this and thinking to themselves ¡®nah, I¡¯d beat ¡®em¡¯ was destined to die an unpleasant death in any case. Elaine twirled through the chaos, hands weaving magic like a cat¡¯s cradle. One enemy¡¯s rifle melted into a bubbling mess. Another found his jetpack teleporting off his back and into the sky. Ariane didn¡¯t teleport. She just appeared behind one, gripped his head like an apple, and twisted. Crunch. Splat. Gone. Cat stepped forward, leveled her rifle, and opened fire. One shot took out a knee joint. Another blew the pilot¡¯s helmet off. The others took cover fast, but it wasn¡¯t faster than bullets. She started to wonder if the other contestants had anything going for them other than a bit of cool tech and a lack of brain cells. She wasn¡¯t exactly the scariest chick around, but her friends here? Elaine was flinging magic around like tinsel, Julietta was going... bio things all over the place, and Ariane moved so fast that all she left in her wake were slightly-bloodies giblets. Anyone seeing this and thinking to themselves ¡®nah, I¡¯d beat ¡®em¡¯ was destined to die an unpleasant death in any case. Elaine twirled through the chaos, hands weaving magic like a cat¡¯s cradle. One enemy¡¯s rifle melted into a bubbling mess. Another found his jetpack teleporting off his back and into the sky. Ariane didn¡¯t teleport. She just appeared behind one, gripped his head like an apple, and twisted. Crunch. Splat. Gone. The last mech turned tail. ¡°Coward,¡± Cat muttered with a shake of her head. She was almost tempted to let him go, but... ¡°Myalis, bazooka?¡± Would you like concussive, incendiary, or¡ª ¡°Surprise me,¡± Cat said. That might be a dangerous request, but usually Myalis at least provided something that got the job done. A soft ripple bent the air next to her, space folding like bad origami, then a launch tube slapped into her waiting hands, matte black, ominous as hell, with a little pink bow sticker on the side. ¡°Adorable,¡± Cat muttered as she flipped it open and aimed. The fleeing mech was already jetting toward the tree line, making a real effort of it. It didn¡¯t matter. She fired, and the fast little rocket outpaced lumbering mech in less time than it took to blink. The rocket screamed through the air, then burst mid-flight into a blossom of microcluster charges, each one seeking heat signatures like it had a personal vendetta. The air filled with a thousand booms, each competing with each other for loudness. The mech disappeared. Do did a chunk of the forest. ¡°Well. That was excessive,¡± Cat said. Ariane landed beside her, face and arms soaked in gore. ¡°Effective, though.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t argue with results.¡± Julietta stalked forward, halfway back to her human form, dragging half of a still-twitching exosuit by one foot. She glanced down at it like it offended her. Elaine touched down last, glittering faintly like a human-shaped rave flyer. ¡°That¡¯s seven down. Probably another three dozen teams left. Give or take.¡± Cat exhaled, checked her ammo, and started mentally marking off directions. Tree cover to the north. Rocky outcroppings to the east. Ruined something poking over the treeline... maybe the hotel Elaine mentioned earlier. She wouldn¡¯t mind a nice stay at a five-star, but she suspected that this wasn¡¯t it. They needed to move. The storm clouds on the horizon were curling inward, roiling with an unnatural energy. Game-master bullshittery. Time was ticking. As the group started to move, Cat lagged half a step behind. Just enough distance to be in her own head. She looked around at the shattered ground, the smoking craters, the chopped meat in metal suits they¡¯d just turned into background scenery. This wasn¡¯t a battlefield. It was a sandbox for whatever alien sociopaths were running this show. Cat tilted her head up, squinting at the blue-glass sky. ¡°...Wonder if this place could survive a nuke,¡± she muttered. Myalis didn¡¯t answer. Chapter Twenty-Two - Shy-Rise Living Chapter Twenty-Two - Shy-Rise Living "The definition of hikikimori is... hikikomori, a Japanese phenomenon, describes a condition of extreme social withdrawal where individuals, often young adults, withdraw from society and remain isolated in their homes for extended periods, sometimes for months or years. S-so I''m not one of those, because, uhm... I go out. Sometimes." --Shy, during her first and last live stream, 2056 *** I took a quick shower, with the water on cold. It was refreshing and I needed it to get my thoughts straight. Almost as soon as I was done, I got into some clean samurai clothes, then jumped back into my power armour. The last thing I did before I was out the door was give Lucy a parting kiss. "Don''t be gone too long, we do have school in the morning," she said. "Yeah, alright," I replied. It wasn''t until I was in the Bastion that I realized I had something of an issue. "So... I''m supposed to check up on Shy, but where does she even live?" I asked. Ordinarily, I wouldn''t be able to tell you. There are polite restrictions preventing me from divulging the location of another vanguard, even if you were to suddenly ask nicely. However, Deus Ex''s AI, Lynus, left us an itinerary but also a list of known housing locations. Some of the Vanguard have been informed that you''d be meeting them, including Shy. "Oh," I said. "Well, that''s moderately convenient. I''m still on the fence about doing this. I want to show the little gremlin up by not following her script." That''s well within your rights. She doesn''t have authority over you. "Yeah, I know," I said. "Well, except the authority that comes from orbital bombardment, but I don''t see her actually doing that. Like... fuck, I think I''ll go along with it, because some of the people on that list I actually care for, you know? Shy... eh, she was nice enough, I don''t mind checking up on her, but Crackshot? Tankette, even Princess and Knight? Gros Baton needs someone to kick him in the pants, and Hedgehog needs someone to remind him to live a little." Then do this as an excuse to meet with allies instead of as a chore. I nodded. Yeah, that was a nice way of framing it. "Okay. Shy''s address," I said. "Can you punch it into the navigation thingiewhatsit?" I asked as I took a seat in the pilot''s chair. It shifted to accommodate my larger size in the power armour. The Bastion rumbled out of the parking garage and slowly rose up and over the city''s traffic. I glanced at the navigation screen to my side and hummed. Shy apparently lived near the city centre, where a group of nine big residential buildings were clumped together. They were some of the older mega buildings in New Montreal, but also pretty nice places to live. The upper quarter or so of those buildings were basically their own sort of high-end living space, with bridges linking them all together. There were luxury shopping things and hospitals and all sorts of shit. I''d seen some Living in Luxury style reality TV with Lucy that covered some people living in the topmost floors, in the big penthouses. The rest of the building was... normal megabuilding. Maybe a bit old, but there were only so many ways to cram ten thousand homes into one building. I flew across the city, then started to look for a place that could accommodate the Bastion . It was a bit big, but there were some parking garages in and around the mega building that Shy lived in. It wasn''t until I plugged in her actual home address that I realized something, though. Her address was in the single-digit floors. On a building as large as one of these, that was basically the basement. Shaking my head, I moved to one of the top-floor parking garages. It was a high-end one, for the rich CEO types that lived in one of the penthouses. I flew the Bastion in past armed security and luxury super cars and found a spot not too far from an elevator bank. "Alright, here goes," I muttered to myself as I stood up. I wondered if I should go in armed but... this was a house call, and Shy presumably knew about it. So I kept it to just my Trench Maker. I even left the Void Terminus behind. The ramp on the side of my ride lowered, and I stepped out to be greeted by an unarmed security guard who looked nervous, despite his armour and gear. "Hello, ma''am," he said. "I''ve been told to welcome you to Parking Level Elite Premium Five. And also to ask if you''re here to kill any of our VIPs?" A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. "Huh? Nah, I''m here to visit the samurai who lives here." The man blinked. "There''s a samurai who lives in this building?" he asked. "Never you mind that," I said. "Keep an eye on my ride for me, will you? Point-defence is on, so you might wanna let any rich kid who wants to take a selfie know that it''s at their own risk." "Y-yes ma''am," he said. Poor rent-a-cop, I almost felt bad for him. I patted him on the shoulder on the way by, then made my way over to the nearest elevator. Surprisingly, it led all the way through the building. I was used to seeing sets of floors separated with their own overlapping elevators, that way no one from the basement could just ride up to the CEO''s front door and knock to ask questions without zig-zagging past a few security checkpoints. The building might have been showing its age. There were definitely signs. The floorboards were scuffed, and the ad screens in the elevator didn''t all match. They were all functional though, so someone was paying for maintenance. The ride down was quiet once I unleashed the full might of Myalis on the jingle-generators and shut them all up. The elevator dropped, and dropped, the floors going from triple digits to double, then finally slowing down to a stop at the single digit mark. The doors opened, and I stepped out into a well-lit corridor, with... more or less clean walls and flooring that wasn''t peeling too much. The space was definitely residential. As I stepped out, I saw one door that had been left open leading into a tiny little apartment space. A living room, a kitchenette, a bathroom without a door, and a bed. All with a handful of square feet to spare and not a single window. There were stenciled door numbers next to every entrance, so I started to follow them, slowly climbing towards the number for Shy''s apartment. I was kind of worried. What if Shy, who''d apparently been a samurai for two years, lived in a little dump of an apartment? I mean, more power to her, I supposed, but... it felt wrong for a samurai to be living in the dirt. Not that we were so special we deserved ivory towers but... I don''t know. I''d always pictured samurai alongside super celebrities, only instead of being made in Italy, their supercars were alien-made. A poor samurai? I mean, I supposed it was possible if they were starting off. I was a poor-as-fuck samurai in the first week or so, but to stay poor? That would require some effort. Shy didn''t strike me as someone who''d want to stay that way, though. I noticed as I went along that there were gaps in some walls where doors had been. They were covered by plaster and repainted, but some of the painting was cheap and I could tell where the doors had been. And then I rounded a couple of corners and came up to Shy''s door. It looked like any other, though she had a doormat on the floor. Leave the Package and Run. "Cute," I said before knocking. The door opened almost as soon as my suit''s knuckles touched it, and I flinched, almost reaching for my gun, but... well, there was Shy, standing in the entrance. She was out of her samurai gear, mostly. A girl with long black hair and a pair of comfortable looking pyjamas with a loose top. The loose top had my ''logo'' on it. She also wasn''t wearing shoes, but I supposed that wasn''t too weird in her own home. "H-hello," she said before making a weird flat-palm up gesture with her right hand. Wait... was that ''welcome'' in sign? "Yo," I said. "Come in! Please," she said before darting back and out of the entrance. "I... bought food. Uhm... I can''t cook. But there''s refreshments." She gestured to the side where there was a table. And it was covered in seven different flavours of soft drinks and a lot of snacks. Did she rob a vending machine? The entrance to her place was... way larger than I expected it to be, actually. It looked like she had two floors. Even if they were the squished low-ceilinged floors of a mega building, having two of them and the space to leave one open made the room seem larger. "Nice place," I said. "Thank you," Shy said. And then she didn''t say anything else. She just stood there, in her entrance room, barefoot on faux-marble floors, staring at me. Why did I agree to this? *** Chapter Twenty-Three - Hikikomori with a Shotgun Chapter Twenty-Three - Hikikomori with a Shotgun "It''s strange, isn''t it? How as the world grows, and people get stuck in their own little bubbles apart from others, how communicating effectively just becomes even more important?" --CEO of Talktech, during a 2039 interview *** "So, uh," I started. "Did Deus Ex tell you about what I was doing?" I asked. Shy slowly and carefully shook her head. "Right. Well. She wants me to check up on all the local samurai, make sure they''re alright. I guess... give them my number, in case something comes up. You know, if you need help or something." "Okay," Shy said. She stared, and I stared right back. Truth was, I''d dealt with something similar before. There was a kid in the orphanage a few years back. Actually got adopted at some point. I think his name was Br4nd0n? Numbers and all. Poor shit had some of those parents before he ended up in the orphanage. Didn''t speak a word. There was a mute kid back then too, but he could sign up a storm and used her phone to ''talk'' a fair bit. Mute was mute, The Br4nd0n was just cripplingly shy. It took a long time to figure out how to work with him. I think there were tricks to handle it, but I couldn''t for the life of me remember any of them. Didn''t help that mute kids got adopted a lot more often than more obvious cripples. I guess wanna-be parents would rather have a kid that can''t talk back instead of a kid missing an arm or a leg. "So, uh, is there anything you need help with?" I asked. Shy shook her head slightly. "No," she said. Well shit, a whole syllable, I was getting somewhere. "Okay then," I said. "I''ll have Myalis, my AI, send you my contact info. If something comes up, don''t be... don''t hesitate to give me a call, or send me a text. If it''s urgent, I''m sure Myalis will nag me to get to it." "Okay," she said. "Cool cool," I said. The silence stretched. The only good thing was that I could tell this pained Shy as much as it pained me. She was working her jaw and looked like she was resisting the urge to cringe into herself. "D-do..." "Yeah?" I asked. Shy looked away from me, and her throat moved strangely for a moment before she nodded. "Are you thirty?" "Thirty?" I asked. "Thirsty," she repeated. Then there was a voice, speaking up from... pretty much nowhere and everywhere all at once, but not in a super loud way. I recognized it almost right away. Latyns, I think his name was? "Greetings, Vanguard Stray Cat. Lady shy wishes to enquire about your hunger and thirst, as a matter of polite hospitality." "Oh. Uh, no, I''m good. My girlfriend has been taking cooking classes at that university right off the island lately. She''d been getting pretty good at cooking. Hey, maybe I can invite you over one of these days?" She nodded. "Do you cook?" I asked. Maybe I could foist the social responsibility of dealing with Shy onto Lucy... she wouldn''t mind too much, would she? Then again, someone as extroverted as Lucy might well blow Shy''s little introvert mind right off her shoulders. I was expecting Laytns to answer, but Shy suddenly shook her head, took a deep breath, and spoke herself. "Ah, no? I order a lot," Shy said. "Do... you want a tour? Of my apartment? If I go to your place, it''s only fair." "Yeah, sure," I said. Did I really want a tour of her place? No. Did I want the awkwardness to end? Yes. Would I feel guilty if I just fucked off back home and hugged and praised Lucy for being so awesome? A little bit. Shy nodded, and seemed happy, and that little twinkle in her eyes twisted the guilt in my gut. Then she pointed down, towards my feet. I looked at the floor, then back up. "What?" I asked. "Shoes," she said. "Actually, these are boots," I said. Shy shook her head. "Wearing shoes in someone''s house... um... no, it''s okay." I didn''t sigh. I wanted to, but I had the impression that if I gave off the vibes that I wasn''t appreciating her efforts, Shy would clamp right up, and then every visit to her would be more awkward than the last. "Give me a minute," I said. I was left standing in half my power armour, since the legs and boots part was kind of one thing. Then I said ''fuck it'' and took off the rest too. It was probably safe inside a samurai''s place, right? "H-here," Shy said as she placed something down ahead of me. Slippers. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. Little black slippers, with cat ears, and tiny tongues sticking out the front. "Thanks." I slid them on without protest. "So, you have a pretty big space down here?" I asked. "Yes," Shy said. "I, ah... Latyns?" "Lady Shy rents out a large portion of this floor. And some of the floor above. She has expanded her home to make more room for herself within this building." I nodded along, and when Shy darted out of the entrance hall I followed her. The house was pretty tightly packed. Past the big open space of the entrance was a narrow corridor with a low ceiling. My augs picked up on the fact that there were several guns tucked into the walls, likely turrets of some sort, so the space wasn''t unprotected. Then we walked into a living room slash kitchen. It was one of those open floor-plan spaces, I supposed. The centre of the room was taken up by an island next to a small kitchen, and then there was a living room... of sorts. Maybe display room was more appropriate? There wasn''t any seating anywhere, except for a small table in the kitchen with a single seat next to it. The far end of the room had several mannequins on plinths. They were dressed like Shy had been when I first saw her. All-black bodysuits with ponchos and long coats and... and one of them was very skintight, with a boob-window? I decided not to comment. There were racks behind the gear, with guns and equipment fixed to them. "That''s cool," I said. "Thank you," Shy said. "Um... just my equipment. For Samurai work. Over there is my bedroom. Please... don''t?" I glanced at the door she was pointing to and nodded. Fair enough. "Washroom," she said, pointing to a door that was left open and which led to... a pretty ordinary modern washroom. "And that''s my office," she said, finally pointing to what might have been the largest room in the house. "What''s that on the walls?" I asked. I squinted. It looked like the entire far wall, which rose up to take up two floors, was covered in cubicles filled with... were those anime figurines? Of Samurai? Wow, that was a lot of flesh-tone plastic. There was a clunk and a whooshing sound, and the wall folded into itself and closed up. In its place was a plain wall, with a few perfectly inoffensive posters for like, anime movies and some samurai merchandise. "That''s my office," Shy said. "I... spend most of my time here." Shy had a hell of a mesh-runner set up against one wall. It was floor-to-ceiling screens and a curved wall, the higher ones mounted on racks that pointed downwards and towards a sort of... throne thing. The seat was all padded cushions and digital ports and water cooling pipes. I bet the average mesh-runner would sell their mom for a month with that seat. "Nice setup," I said. "You do a lot of like... hacking and shit?" I asked. Shy blinked. "I... pirate a lot of shows," she said. "And... have a lot of friends that I talk to." "Really?" I asked. Maybe I should have toned the incredulity down a bit. "On... IRC," she said. "You don''t get out much, do you?" I asked as nicely as I could. Shy crossed her arms and didn''t meet my gaze. "I''m getting better about it," she said. "When I saw your call to action... I left the house. And I often do clean-up, for incursions. Usually at night, when it''s quiet, and in places that aren''t guarded as well." "Right, you''ve got some stealth stuff going on too," I said. "That''s... pretty cool, I guess. Doing good by moonlight, helping people without being too obvious about it." "Thanks," Shy said. I eyed Shy. She was kind of cute, in a lanky, dorky way, and... I was not going to adopt her like picking up a stray out of an alley. She was a grown woman who had her shit together. She had an apartment and a job, and her own weird little hobbies. She didn''t need me. That didn''t mean that I couldn''t be less of a bitch than usual and extend a bit of a hand. "Hey, are you busy... on most afternoons this week?" I asked. "No?" she said, uncertain. "Cool! So, uh, I need to head out and meet all the other locals. Gros Baton, Tankette, Princess and Knight. You know, the bunch that were around for the Big Gun project. They''re all about our age, give or take a couple of decades. Anyway, they are all newer samurai. Maybe you wanna come along? They''re cool people." "Oh. I... would like that." Deus Ex owed me a fucking ''best babysitter'' medal once this was done. *** Chapter Twenty-Four - In the Name of the Moon! Chapter Twenty-Four - In the Name of the Moon! "Can you Imagine an imaginary menagerie manger managing an imaginary menagerie?" --Translated excerpt from a question ask by Japanese Ronin Nya during an interview in 2055 *** "Don''t forget," Lucy said. "We have our first Applied Pol-Sci this afternoon." "Yeah yeah," I said. "Kiss before you go?" Lucy grinned and gave me a quick kiss before darting out of the Bastion with a skip in her step. She''d been doing that a lot lately. Skipping, not kissing. Well, there''d been a lot of that too, but not much more than our usual baseline. I think it was the working legs that did it, probably. Or she just liked the way her skirt bounced with every step. It was... cute. Ah well. I stretched my lower back out and was left unsatisfied when it didn''t pop. "What''s on the docket for today, secretary Myalis?" I asked. I''m thinking of making it rain anvils, but less in a cartoony way, and more in a disastrously real way. It would be a very localized sort of rain, with only one raindrop, as it were. "Maybe you can buy yourself a little comedy AI friend? I can spare a few points for something like that, right? Or some comedy software? Does that exist? Because if it does, you should poke one of the other AI for a copy." I was smiling despite myself as I stepped off the ship and started towards my morning classes. If Myalis was being jokey, then we were probably okay. I resisted the urge to skip to class. I wasn''t wearing a flowy skirt and also I''d rather die than be seen doing something like that. And, about halfway there, I was met by Olivia who silently slid up next to me and walked along without saying much beyond a ''good morning'' and ''how are you?'' I got to class, discovered that it was going to be a lesson-first kind of day, then sat back in one of the seats furthest from the front. I was actually early enough that I had to endure small talk with the guys sitting next to me, but they were pretty chill, if a bit awkward. Then Professor Rogers stepped into the room and the screen we were all facing lit up. "Let''s get right to it," he said. "What''s logistics?" No one said anything. The sudden change of pace kinda fucking with everyone. Finally, someone by the front raised a hand. "In my words, or a textbook definition?" the student asked. "Textbook." "Logistics is the creation, maintenance, and management of supply chains. It''s the act of dealing with acquiring, moving, and storing equipment and materials," the student said. Probably reading off their Augs. Professor Rogers paused for just a moment before nodding. "Good enough. In war, artillery is king, but logistics is the queen. That''s a chess analogy for you plebs. We''re not going to deal with logistics too much, that''s an entirely different department and a five-year course. However, you need to understand that logistics will win wars, or lose them." "How''s that?" I piped up. The professor glanced up at me for just a moment before answering. "A gun is only good as long as you have ammo to shoot. A soldier is useless if they don''t have food, shelter, and equipment. But food is eaten, shelter gets bombed, and equipment breaks down. Logistical services keep ammo flowing, get food delivered, build shelters, and replace equipment. You can, broadly, divide logistics into short and long term. Short term logistics are perhaps the reason that samurai are as powerful as they are." I blinked. I thought it was because we had alien tech and crazy AI in our heads? "A soldier whose logistics train is lost is, in a word, fucked. A samurai in the same position only has to mutter a few sentences and they''re ready to keep going. However, long term logistics are different. They deal with planning for future events and ensuring that stockpiles are filled and equipment is where it needs to be before it needs to be used. Give me examples." A student raised their hand next to me. "Vaults and shelters?" "Good. That''s more for civilians, but in your roles as tacticians and officers, you may have to deal with civilians at times. A rowdy crowd of pissed off locals who just discovered that the shelters they were sent to never existed will make your life complicated in any incursion. More." This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. "AA-guns?" Someone asked. "Need their ammo before an incursion starts," Professor Rogers nodded. "Good. Add on any heavy machinery to that as well. Tanks don''t run on hopes and dreams, they need constant maintenance even when not on the front lines." Rogers kept on going. He pulled up images of some guy called Montgomery and his rival Rommel. I tried looking more into them with my Augs, because it was kind of interesting, but all that I pulled up was a lot of very weird historical fanfiction, and I don''t think the kind of logistics Professor Rogers was talking about was in what I was seeing from that search. About forty minutes in, just when I was starting to have a bitch of a time paying attention, the professor told us to get changed. Today was sparring, and I was actually looking forward to it. I had a lot of pent up energy and a bit of moving around would help a lot. Plus, all I had to do was imagine that the schmucks I was fighting looked like a particular gremlin child and punching faces would be a lot easier. I returned to the classroom, then came to stand within the group of students that had changed already. It was only a minute or two before the rest arrived. "We have a special guest today," Professor Rogers said as he came to stand before us all. "A samurai, in fact." I blinked. Did he mean me? I wasn''t a guest, I was here from the start of the course. I mean, that was only a couple of days, bu-- I flinched as the door to the room was kicked open hard enough to crash into the wall next to it. Then a woman sauntered into the room. I blinked. She was tall and skinny. The kind of skinny that fancy people liked to describe as lithe, with a tight bodysuit on. She was wearing a schoolgirl uniform over it. One of those Japanese ones, with the little sailor bow and the too-short skirt. Big cat ears, very organic looking ones, were poking out on her head, and her eyes were slitted, like a cat''s. The whiskers were a bit much, though. "Who''re you?" I asked. "Glad you asked! Nya!" the samurai said. She had an accent that I couldn''t place. Beyond the weird... cat vocalizations. "I''m the one that''s gonna kick your butt! ... nya!" "Samurai Nya here has agreed to assist with today''s combat class. You''re aware that we have a young samurai as a student, and I''m worried that that might lead some of you to underestimate an experienced samurai on the field." Hey, wait a minute... "In any case, the lesson today is simple. Survive." Professor Rogers glanced at his wrist, where he wore a classic army-style watch. "You have... twenty-two minutes until class needs to be dismissed for showers and the like," he said. "I''ll make it count!" Nya replied. "What''s the exercise, exactly?" One of the braver, bigger guys asked. Nya''s grin was disturbingly cat-like. "Survive! Everything goes! The only rule is I can''t kill you and I need to replace any limbs I break! Nya!" And then she was across the room and the guy who''d asked the question was being Judo-flipped into the mat. He landed with a hard ''ompf'' that sounded like it knocked more than just the air out of his lungs. The entire class kind of just froze for a moment. Violence was cool and fun and all, but it wasn''t often that it just happened when you weren''t expecting it. Then Nya spun around, wrapped her tail--oh shit, she had a tail?--around one guy''s neck, and yanked him back while using the momentum to knee Olivia right in the chest. For some reason, that''s what snapped me out of it. Seeing someone I knew, even if I didn''t care for them much, flung back with a weird, choking cough. I stepped up and swung at Nya, but she was already gone. Still, the rest of the class started to pick up on it. It was nearly thirty of us versus one of her! Then it was twenty-nine of us... twenty-eight, twenty-seven... Nya grinned from ear to ear, laughing while she bounced, kicked, and tail whipped the entire class. Then she was on me, and being a samurai didn''t spare me from the treatment. I caught her upper arm, spun into a move I''d only just had injected into my brain, and tried to smack her, but she grabbed me in turn and fell downwards onto her back, pulling me down with her. And then her feet were in my chest and I was sent flying upwards. *** Chapter Twenty-Five - Kawaii Kitty Kohai Kicking Chapter Twenty-Five - Kawaii Kitty Kohai Kicking "Unfortunately, because of reasons beyond my control, Smash or Pass Samurai edition will have to be cancelled." --Vtuber BirbKnife during a 2038 stream *** Nya wasn''t focusing on me. It took me a stupid amount of time to realize it, but she wasn''t targeting me directly. She''d move in, swipe--why did she have claws?--then put just enough pressure on me to pull me away from the others before pouncing back onto them. It meant that at some point, maybe a minute into the fight, I was the last one standing, and I wasn''t intact. I''d eaten a pair of kicks to the chest and a tail swipe across the face that felt like a mean bitch slap. "You''re not so bad, nya!" the weirdo said. She walked around me in a big circle, forcing me to constantly shift my stance so that I''d be ready when she rushed in. Her tail swung low behind her, like a playful cat''s, and her little ears twitched. "But you''re still just a little kitty! So kawaii!" "Oh, fuck off," I growled. Who the fuck was this bitch anyway? "Nya!" the freak screamed as she leapt at me. Then I was moving backwards, avoiding quick swipes and flat-handed jabs aimed at my throat. Nya went high, then swept in low and tried to get in under my guard. I shifted my stance, legs going wide for a moment before I tried to move in to clock her in the face with an elbow, but Nya didn''t just sit there, she threw herself to the side, rolled, bounced up to her feet, then used her momentum to spin into a roundhouse. Everything I knew about martial arts and street fighting told me that she was being wasteful and flashy as fuck. And none of that mattered because she was so fucking fast. I gritted my teeth and caught the kick on my forearm, then stumbled back from the blow. That had caught my fleshy arm, not the cybernetic one, and it hurt like a bitch. "Slow slow, nya! You need to be fast and flexible, little kitty! Show me your tummy!" This bitch is crazy. "Myalis, could use a distraction," I muttered. Here, try this. I caught something out of the air, then flung it hard at the samurai. She caught it in one hand, then blinked to stare at it. I stared too while sucking air in to catch my breath. It was a large ball of yarn. "Nya haha!" the woman laughed. "A gift!" "Fucking..." I started, then she was on me again, I blocked, weaved under a strike, stumbled back from a kick, then cursed some more as Nya rolled in mid-air to bring her heel down near me in an axe-kick out of some shitty video game. Nya swept up before me, and started to try and... pinch my cheeks? I slapped her arms away, then again, then again, all the while backing away and trying to get a few quick snap-kicks in to break her footing, but she was always a step to the side whenever I tried to strike out. Speedware? Some sort of stupid enhancements? I clenched my jaw until my teeth hurt and pushed myself to move faster. I had an idea. It wasn''t a very good one. Nya batted a swing aside, then grabbed my wrist and started to pull me forwards, which is what I wanted. She lifted me off the ground and spun, prepping for a pretty standard grapple throw. I reached out towards her face with my cybernetic arm and met her eyes even as she flung me across the room. Which is about the time that my arm opened up and revealed the grenade launcher built into it. Nya''s eyes widened comically, but the madwoman just smiled wider. Then I hit the ground back-first and coughed as the air was knocked out of me. She came to stand before and above me, blinking down. "You didn''t shoot?" she asked. "Loaded with high explosive," I said. "Would have blasted the whole room." "Nyaaawww," she said sweetly. "So considerate! But don''t worry! I would have been just fine!" "I was thinking more the other students," I grumbled. "Oh... yes, Nya would have fixed them. But it''s okay! I would have caught the bullet." She mimed catching a grenade out of the air and tossing it into her mouth. "Om nom nyam!" This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. I pointed at her. "Cringe," I said. Nya recoiled, and I think I had just delivered the hardest blow against her yet. I kind of had two options. Shit all over this weirdo or try to be the bigger person. I was very very tempted to do the former. But I wasn''t an angry fourteen year old with everything to prove, so I reached my flesh arm up while my other reconfigured itself back to normal. "Help me up?" I asked. She grabbed my hand and soon I was back on my feet and dusting off my gym shorts. "I''m Nya! Hajimemashite!" "Yeah, you too," I said to whatever that meant. I was about to ask her a few things, but Professor Rogers clapped his hands. "Thank you, Samurai Nya, for that demonstration. I''m sure everyone learned a valuable lesson today." "Ah! Yes. Thank you for having me as your sensei," Nya said. She bowed. Most of the class was still sprawled out across the floor in various states of pain and incapacitation. "Oopsy! Nya! Let''s fix your guys up?" I stepped back as Nya started to circle the room, helping people up and passing out a mix of cat-themed band-aids and what looked like nano-regeneratives in a smaller, more compact form than what I was used to. She bowed and apologized profusely to one of the bigger students whose arm she''d smashed up, then she summoned up a box (it was, unsurprisingly, covered in chibi cats and the word ''Nya'' about a thousand times) which she handed to the student. He looked happy with the exchange overall, and I couldn''t blame him. Nya''s tech looked like it was a tier or so above mine, at least. It didn''t take long for class to be dismissed after that. I still wanted to talk to Nya, but she seemed willing to linger around the professor for a bit, so I ran off and got changed, skipping the shower entirely. When I stepped out, I found Nya waiting for me nearby, arms crossed, tail swaying. She wasn''t paying attention too much, which finally gave me a chance to look her over. Nya was half a head shorter than me, with a padded bodysuit on, all in blacks and greys with a few subtle highlights. Black hair, narrowed eyes, a tiny nose. Kind of cute, but a bit old for my tastes. Like, she was at least in her thirties. She was wearing a small coat too, the sort that stopped mid-torso. It was lined with fur and somehow tied in her furry ears and cat tail together. Was there someone like Emoscythe out there badgering Nya as well? "Hey," I said as I walked over. "Hi!" she said as she snapped to attention. Her hands darted out and grabbed onto mine. "I''m very excited to finally meet my kohai!" "Your... what?" I asked. "Kohai! It means cute little junior," Nya said. "You''re a Catmurai, just like me! But since I''m the older cooler one, I''m the senpai." I blinked, then shook my head. "Nope." "Nyope?" "Nope," I agreed. "First of all, using the word ''Catmurai'' should be a crime of some sort. Second, I don''t need a... senpai. I''m doing well enough on my own." "Aw! The kohai is cute and thinks she has it figured out! But she forgets that Nya does what she wants!" Nya said. She stuck her tongue out at me, then her posture shifted to something a little more serious. "I didn''t mean to barge into your class, but I met your Professor and he asked. I thought it might be a fun idea! But I did come all this way to see you!" "Okay, but why?" I asked. Nya snapped her fingers. "Because making friends is important!" "I have plenty," I said. "Because... having powerful allies is useful!" She snapped her fingers again. "Got some of those." Nya snapped her fingers, then after a pause, half-turned and pinched her chin. "One sec, Nya needs to think... oh!" She snapped again. "Because I want to!" "You tried that one already, and I shot it down, I think." She pouted. "But I came all this way! I can''t just slink back home with my cat tail stuck between my cat legs. That''s shameful. Everyone at the Keiretsu will make fun of poor Nya." "Wait, you''re one of the Keiretsu samurai?" I asked. "Yup!" Perfect. I could call her boss and foist her off onto him. New Montreal didn''t need more than one stray cat wandering around. *** Chapter Twenty-Six - So That Is How It Feels Chapter Twenty-Six - So That Is How It Feels "The problem with tiddy bars and clubs isn''t that no one loves tiddies. Everyone loves tiddies. The problem is that they''re a product of a repressed society. You go there to see something that''s magical and spectacular and cool. But what''s the point when I can stream live 4K mommy milkers in every shape and colour and bounciness right into my retinas?" --Economist Buck Downs on the collapse of the sports bar, 2038 *** I slipped out of the class, very aware of the samurai slinking along a step behind me. Nya was being quiet, which was an excellent time to look up what I was dealing with. A browser opened in my augs, and I typed in Nya... which wasn''t helpful. ''Nya the Japanese Samurai'' did bring up a lot more. There was this one ancient site, built like, twenty years before I was born, called Samuwiki. It was one of those editable wiki-forums, partially online and partially embedded on the mesh. It was also a hot mess of old forum rivalries, stupid mod power plays, and the usual old-internet shitfuckery. Nya had a page. I opened a second tab, then looked at my own page. It was... surprisingly sparse? Like, there were a few pictures, and a rough time-line of the stuff I''d done as a samurai, but other than a subsection about shooting the mayor, and what I''d done in Burlington and with the Big Gun, there really wasn''t much. Those internet nerds needed to get their crap together and populate my page a little more. Or... maybe not. It might be for the best that there wasn''t too much stuff online about me. Nya''s page was way, way longer. There were sections with a small marker indicating that they''d been translated from their original Japanese, which made sense. Even ignoring those, she had a long track record. I looked for an estimated time since she became a samurai and didn''t find anything exact, just a rough guess from the people on the forum that placed her debut at around 2051. That was six years back. Her record was pretty good past that. Lots of appearances in incursions around South-East Asia, not just Japan, and she had a bit of a cult following spreading the joy of... cat ownership. That being people that claimed that they were owned by their cats, which was weird but probably harmless? "So, uh, you''ve been a samurai for a while?" I asked. Nya''s face lit up as I actually addressed her. That was kind of weird. She was in the business for way longer, and was probably at the ''orbital bombardment is easy'' stage of shit. She didn''t need to get excited on seeing me. "N''yeah!" she said. "I''ve been one for a long, long time now! It''s tough, but it''s also a satisfying job." I nodded. "And... why are you here? Yeah, I know, to make friends, but really? People don''t fly around the globe to just poke in and chat. I''m sure there''s a dozen newbie samurai around Japan that could use some help." "Fewer than you might think, actually," she said. "But yeah, there''s a number of them. But do you know how many have links to the Sunwatchers?" "The... the Sunwatchers?" I asked. I glanced down at my arm, the metal-y one. It was from my Sunwatcher Technologies catalogue. One of the only Catalogues that I''d tiered-up. "The weird aliens?" "Weird!" Nya exclaimed with a gasp so theatrical it had to be fake. "They are majestic beings! Big and strong, and very fuzzy-looking!" "I can genuinely not tell if you''re messing with me, or if this is going to eventually lead to something serious," I said. Nya shook her head. "Nope! Nothing serious. I just like Sunwatcher stuff. Did you know that you can buy videos of their plays? Even with really good translations, they don''t make any sense." "They have plays?" I asked. "They don''t have TV!" "Really?" I asked. It struck me as weird that an advanced alien race that could pop out massive warmechs and top-end prosthetics didn''t have TV. "Not even movies? Do they have like, books?" "Sorta!" she said. "They''re like scrolls, and they come in little wooden boxes with a twisty handle on the side to scroll through." "That sounds stupid," I said. "It''s cute!" I blinked, then eyed Nya from the corner of my eye. "So... did you really come all the way here just to gush over aliens that we both happen to be tangentially connected to?" If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Nya grinned, and I knew then that she was full of shit. "Do you know how to play any instruments?" she asked. "Or sing?" "No?" I said. "Do you want to learn?" she asked. "Also no. What''s that about?" I asked. Nya waved her arms around, then made motion as if... playing a guitar. "I play! And sing pretty nice too! There''s a Columbian ronin called Panterra who has a panther theme. He''s a drummer, and there''s a ronin from East Timor called Kitty Civet who plays the babadok and the flute, at the same time!" I shook my head. "What?" "Cat!" I turned, then smiled as I found Lucy sprinting my way. My arms opened of their own accord and Lucy crashed into me, only to laugh as I spun around and shifted the impact into a twirl. "Hi," I said. "Hi!" she said back. Then she gave my cheek a peck, and I found that the mounting annoyance I felt with Nya wasn''t so bad after all. "Hiyo!" Nya said. "Are you Cat''s friend?" Lucy blinked, then smiled big and beautiful at Nya. "I''m Lucy! And you could say that! I''m her friend who''s a girl. I like your body amour. Is that a tail? Cat, why does she have a tail and you don''t?" "I have one... sometimes," I muttered. "I''m Nya!" Nya said. "If you''re Cat''s friend, then you should help me convince her to join my band! We''re Nya and the Caterwaulers!" Lucy gasped. "No," I said. "But Cat! The only thing hotter than a samurai is a musician. Think of all the hot bitches you could pull. I''d be one of them!" "No, I''m not joining a band just to have you be a groupie," I said. "I don''t even know any instruments." "Oh!" Nya said. She clapped her hands, and a moment later a box appeared that she caught out of the air. It was also covered in chibi cats. I saw the light go off in Lucy''s eyes as she made the obvious connection. Then Nya handed me the box. "Gift!" "Uh," I said before slowly prying it open. What else was I supposed to do? Toss it? "What... is that?" I asked as I stared at a small, plastic thing. It was bright pink, with... whiskers sticking out of its sides? "It''s a recorder!" I shook my head. "This is a lame instrument, and I don''t even know much about music. Couldn''t you have gotten something cool? Like... a guitar, or uh." I paused. I really didn''t know jack about musical instruments. Fortunately, Lucy did, at least a little. "If you learned the violin or the fiddle, you''d be way hotter," she said. "Oh, and the sax. That breathing control, and like, jazz is super cool." "I can get you those," Nya said. "I have a tier three musical instruments catalogue!" Why the hell did she have that? "No thanks," I said. "I don''t want to join your band." "But it''s so cool! Nya!" "It''s so cool, nya!" Lucy agreed. I poked her in the short ribs. Not hard, but enough to make her laugh and flinch in surprise. "Don''t encourage her," I warned. Lucy raised both hands over her head, cupping them to imitate cat ears. "Nyan? But n''you''d be so cutesy on stage with your widdle recorder, all puffy cheeks and trying too hard, nyan!" I reached over and pulled Lucy into a hug, then started to muss her head. "I want a divorce," I said. "No! Nya, save me! This is abuse! Abuse!" Lucy shouted dramatically. "Oh nyo!" Nya said. She started to pull things out of her pockets, as if to distract me. Little jingly toys on a chain, a ball that fired little red lasers all over, a can of tuna. Did she really have all of that on her or was it some sort of stupid trick? "Nope! There''s no stopping me! I''m dating a cute girl, not a weird cat. I refuse," I said. Nya gasped. "Miss Lucy, no! Leave her alone, Stray Cat! She was our number one New Montreal Fan!" "What does that even mean?" I asked. "Wait... is your band even a real thing?" "It is! The others haven''t agreed yet, but it''s only a matter of time!" It hit me then. Nya really had come over to North America just to fuck around. Maybe there was some alternative motive hidden in there somewhere, but if it was, I suspected that it was buried pretty deep under a layer of wanting to mess around and just have fun. "I''m not joining your band," I said, putting my foot down. "No matter what you say." *** Chapter Twenty-Seven – Post-Traumatic Samurai Disorder Chapter Twenty-Seven - Post-Traumatic Samurai Disorder "Do you know how many artists there are out there? People putting their soul into things? There are more creators--and I don''t mean someone drawing a doodle in the margins, but actual, proper, dedicated creators--than you can imagine. One in every ten thousand. They make and have made. And what they make? There''s a chance in a million that it''ll have the eyes of the world skim past it. That means that out there, right now, are wonders and deep, complex, meaningful works that because of their obscurity, will never have any meaning at all." --The Smoking Bird, creator of Borboland, failed MMO project of the 2040s *** "So..." I started as Nya continued to follow Lucy and I as if we''d just popped the tab on a can of wet food. "You going to stick with us all the way to our next class?" "You have classes together?" Nya asked. "Just this one," I said. Lucy nodded. "It''s a Pol-sci class. Of a sort. I think it''s a lot of catch-up, and they''re trying to squeeze in a couple of classes into one. I''m not sure how well that will work out. I heard from Noah that this class is being taught by an actual human teacher too." "Is... that not usually the case?" I asked. "Nope!" Luc said. "It''s usually all AI-driven stuff. Which apparently sucks because the AI still makes shit up, but I heard that CIAL''s are pretty okay." I''d had an education with that sort of thing. For a certain definition of education. It had all been through these shitty donated tablets with a few programs that we were supposed to do every day. The teaching partition was done by these text-to-speech reading animated avatar. The same avatars were buyable off some digital stores, and I was pretty sure there was at least one middlingly popular vtuber that used the same model, but I wasn''t sure who used it first, the shitty sixth party teaching gear or the vtuber. Calling what you have AI feels somewhat insulting. It''s as though I pointed to a skin cell and waxed poetically about how human it is. I snorted, then shook my head. I didn''t want to have to explain that joke to the others. "I suppose Nya ought to leave, then," Nya said. Rather than sounding sad about it, she looked kind of pleased with herself. She stood tall, arms folded behind her head. "Nya was told that if she was going to be in New Montreal, she might as well do some work, n''ya know?" "Alright then," I said. "It was... kind of cool to meet you. And no, I''m not joining your band." The woman smiled. "That''s not a complete no." "It really is," I said. We still shook hands before Nya just turned around and sauntered off, leaving me and Lucy alone on some quiet side-street between two of the university''s buildings. "She''s a weird one," I said before I started to walk again. "I guess," Lucy replied. I gave her the side-eye. "You guess?" Lucy reached over and grabbed my arm, hugging it close to her chest as we walked. "Yeah. I think that... maybe Nya''s been doing the samurai thing for a while, and it''s doing things to her in turn." "You mean, what, something like PTSD? Post-traumatic samurai disorder doesn''t make you go ''nya nya,''" I said. Lucy giggled. "It''s stress disorder, and maybe it doesn''t make you all cute and fuzzy, but it does do something to your head. I''ve always wondered if samurai were all bent before becoming samurai or if it''s something that came up with time." "Are you saying I''m bent?" I asked. "Well, you sure weren''t straight before," she shot back. I bumped her hip with my own. "I don''t think it''s PTSD. I think it''s probably that she was a weirdo before she became a samurai, and being one let her just... weird out without having to worry about what anyone thought about it. No one calls you weird to your face when getting shot up is on the line." Lucy leaned closer, head landing on my shoulder. I tried to walk a little smoother, to make it less bumpy for her. "I''ll always call you a weirdo," she said. "Thanks," I replied. It wasn''t too long until we arrived at our next class. This one was held in a large auditorium-like building. Rows of seats, all laid out in neat, curving rows facing a small stage area with a podium in the centre and a desk to one side. A pair of teacher''s assistants were moving around, placing textbooks and notepads on the tiny, uncomfortable looking desks at each seat. There was a board at the back, right by the entrance. Each seat was tagged with a number on it, and each number corresponded to a name on a big legend at the bottom of the sheet. "Heh," Lucy said as she found her name. "They sorted by family names." I frowned, then found my name. Catherine Leblanc... and right under that, Lucy Leblanc. I huffed. "You think you''re so clever," I said. Judging by how smug her smile was, she thought so too. We found our way to our seats, which happened to be about in the middle-middle of the room. I didn''t like that so much. Too many people behind us, no clear view of the exits, and we''d be easy to spot. I was vaguely aware that the drone following Lucy around was here, but I wasn''t sure if that would be enough. There was school security too, but they looked like mall cops more than anything. Still, we sat down, and soon enough the room was done filling. There was almost full attendance. Someone turned up the lights over the stage, and the bit of talking in the room stilled as someone walked up to the podium. It was a woman, middle-aged and pinch-faced. She looked like a competitive lemon eater, with yellow cybernetic eyes that scanned the room at a glance and paused on Lucy and I. She cleared her throat, the sound clear across the room. "My name is Doctor Roswell. I''m a professor of political science, political history, and I have a doctorate in both, a bachelors in education, and another in modern history. I am as qualified a teacher as you''re liable to find in this institution and I was pulled out of thesis research to teach this class." Oh, this bitch was not happy to be here. That explained the lemon-sucking look, at least. "I''m not going to mince words. We''re starting from the top, and if you can''t keep up, that''s on you. I''m being forced to teach, not to make sure you learn. We''re starting with some history, but I don''t want to go too far back. The Rise of the Sovereign Corporation. You should all be receiving a digital copy of the textbook now... I''d suggest refusing and finding a pirated version instead before you add a year''s work to the amount you''ll have to pay for this class." I blinked as my augs flagged an incoming packet, and as she asked, I refused it. "I won''t even be reading from the book anyway," Professor Roswell continued. "In the early 2000s there was an economic shift in most first-world countries. The top one-percent of the population in terms of wealth held thirty percent of most nations''s wealth. The housing crisis slowed their growth down for a time, but they soon recuperated and by the late twenties that was up to forty perfect. Now it''s ten percent, can anyone tell me why?" A few hands rose, but I figured samurai were to blame for that. "Wrong," the professor said, ignoring all the raised hands. "The real answer is that power shifted and changed definitions with the arrival of the samurai and antithesis. Power was no longer held by human individuals, but by corporate individuals. A far safer alternative when the world economy was in shambles and most governments couldn''t find their ass with both hands. Like it or not, for a small sliver of human history, capitalist corporations were actually the better option... for a very, very small sliver." She turned and snapped at one of the TAs to go get her some water, then refocused on the class. "That moment was enough for corporatocracy to almost become the de facto form of government. Fortunately, or not, corporations only hate one thing more than governments; other corporations. Hence, the governments of the world were suffering to live as a balancing agency and a tool to poke and prod at rival entities without each individual corporation having to foist all of the work of handling an entire population, work which is highly unprofitable, I might add." I sat back and listened. This lady might actually be onto something, but then she started to ramble a little, tossing out figures and numbers, and I quickly realized that unlike my combat classes, there was no story here to latch onto. I wasn''t sure how I was supposed to remember any of this stuff without anything to tie it all together. I glanced to the side, and Lucy was staring, stars in her eyes as she listened and even took notes. Well, at least one of us was enjoying it. *** Still plugging away! Chapter Twenty-Eight – Feed Me Kibble Chapter Twenty-Eight - Feed Me Kibble "Samurai are strange, yes, but that strangeness is usually rather inoffensive. But, still, it''s the opinion of this body that one should not force a samurai into a position in which they are uncomfortable." --The Russian Office of Psychological Studies, memo, 2039 *** "That was cool," Lucy said as we stepped out of the class. She reached up, stretching her back. It had the benefit of pulling her shirt out from where it was tucked into the waistband of her skirt and exposing a tiny slip of belly. "It was... honestly, boring as hell after the start," I said. "Aww," Lucy said. "You didn''t like it?" "I mean, the teacher was good. She didn''t seem to wanna be there, but I''ve got the impression that she has her shit together, you know? At least when it comes to political history and the like." "Yeah," Lucy said. "I think this will be a good class, but I''m worried that I won''t get what I want from it. Not that it feels like what she''s teaching is bad." I nodded along. I think I knew what she meant. The class was a little generalized, and Lucy was looking for something a bit more niche and specific. "It''s still good stuff though, right?" "Oh, yeah, and I think some of the students attending this one are very politically-minded. It could be nice to do an after-class social or something one day, pick their minds a little. I might want to talk to Professor Roswell too. Bet she''d be all-for a bit of activism if it means getting egg on the face of the school." Lucy was plotting plots again. I could remember when most of her energy was turned towards getting rid of nagging social workers, or messing up the lives of some of the people working in the orphanage who didn''t belong within a hundred metres of a vulnerable kid. This was a bit bigger, though. "Just... keep your sights on something that''s not too disastrous, alright?" "Don''t worry. I might meme a bit about taking over the world, but I really just want what''s best for us," Lucy said. "I see you being a big damn hero, and I don''t want to just be your cute girlfriend back home. I mean, I''m already that, obviously, so I need to aim higher, right?" I snorted. She was trying to play coy, but I knew Lucy, she was aiming for the skies. I was half expecting to find Nya waiting for us at the Bastion but the ship was left alone. It was actually kind of concerning. "Myalis, do you have any idea where Nya is?" I asked. Certainly. Her AI and I have been chatting today, and Nya has joined in on the conversation a few times. She''s currently loitering around your place. "Oh, great," I said. "Wait... she can talk to other AI?" Through her own, certainly. Did you want to join in? Obviously it would be a much reduced and many-times summarized conversation. You don''t have the mental bandwidth to keep up. "And Nya does?" I asked. No. She has a few implants and augmentations to help, but she is also... how do I put this delicately... She is like a particularly smart dog listening in to a conversation between two intellectually-capable professors discussing a subject they are deeply familiar with. Sometimes her tail wags when a word she understands comes up. "Wow," I said. "That''s... really insulting," I said. You, by contrast, and to continue this analogy, would be like a lonesome and particularly unintelligent flea in the same room. "Ah, that''s more like what I expected. You really like painting yourself as all-powerful and smart, don''t you?" Who doesn''t like pointing out the truth? I sometimes wondered if my AI was particularly smug, or if all of them were like this. Maybe I should join in on some of their conversations to see if Myalis was as insufferable with her peers as she was with me. I checked my schedule real fast, and nodded. According to Deus Ex'' little planner, tonight was when I was due to check in on Crackshot Cowboy. But... I had Nya to entertain, and no real idea of how long she''d be sticking around New Montreal for. Lucy and I got in the Bastion and took off, heading homewards. On the way home, I did a little search, checking to see if I had a good idea of where Crackshot was, and when I couldn''t find anything, I resorted to just texting him. Cat: Hey, you good? Crackshot: Hi! Crackshot: Yes, I''m fine. Crackshot: What''s up? Cat: The laser munchkin gave me a job to check in on everyone. Tonight a good time to meet up? Cat: You can say no Cat: Plz say no Crackshot: lmao! Nah, come on over. Bring some friends. EMN and I are at her place in the towers. Sending coords! EMN had to be Emoscythe Mordeath Noir. I was surprised she allowed her boytoy to use acronyms at all. The coordinates I received were for a place on the topmost floor of one of those mega-buildings with a huge mall in the centre of it. The same one Lucy and I had visited a while back to pick up some threads. I supposed that Emoscythe had a house there, as well as her offices. I was almost home when I received another text, but this one was about a million times more concerning. Shy: Help. "Oh fuck," I said. "What is it?" Lucy asked. "Trouble, I think," I said. I considered texting back, but that was just too slow. If Shy was in trouble, I needed to know now. Lucy could stay in the Bastion if shit went sideways, she''d be safe here. "One sec, I need to make a call." It rang for a moment, then a moment more, and then finally, there was a click as Shy answered. "Hey!" I said. "What''s up? Where are you?" "Ah, um," Shy said. "Stray Cat? I... need help." "Yeah, I''m on my way now," I said. "Are you at your place?" "N-no, I''m at yours." I blinked. It took me a moment to process that fully. "Mine? Wait, you''re at my house?" Lucy sat up, smugness gone and instantly replaced by worry. "Something''s wrong at home?" I nodded, but gestured for her to give me a moment so that I could hear what Shy had to say. She had to know more about what was going on. It took a moment, a moment that felt way longer than it should have, but Shy did reply. "I came to visit," she said. "And now... I just got away, but there''s a Cat lady here, and she... oh, she''s here." The line went dead. I blinked. Was she talking about Nya? Why did Shy sound like the protagonist of a b-tier horror movie? I drove a little faster than usual, but not that much so. Nya wouldn''t kill Shy. Not physically, in any case. I could imagine the weird samurai rubbing herself all over the rather reserved Shy, but if anything, it might be good for Shy to learn how to put her foot down. Or something. Also, if I drove faster, I''d have to deal with Nya sooner. Unfortunately, I eventually made it home and carefully parked the Bastion into the parking garage. Lucy was quick to jump out. She was worried about the Kittens in a way that I wasn''t. I didn''t trust Nya, but something told me she wouldn''t hurt kids. With Lucy going ahead, I took a moment to catch up, which let me hear Lucy saying hello to Nya again, and introducing herself to Shy. When I walked into our living room, it was to find Shy sitting bolt-upright on our sofa, hands hovering awkwardly, and Nya was sprawled out next to her, taking up enough room for four with her head and shoulders on Shy''s lap. "Nya hello!" she said with a little wave. "Yo," I said. "Get off Shy''s lap, she''s not a cat person." "Every good person is a cat person, nya, and Samurai are all good people, therefore, checkmate." "That''s not how that works. You can''t just rub yourself on any cute shy girl you meet and expect her to feed you kibble and scratch you behind the ears," I said. "I don''t know," Lucy said in a sing-song voice. "Have you tried?" "Feed me kibble and we''ll find out what happens," I said. I turned back to Nya, who was finally slithering off Shy. "Didn''t expect you to come here." "Nya didn''t?" she asked. "It''s... it''s a giant kitty building! Even I never thought to ask the Keiretsu to make our HQ look like a giant kitty! It''s brilliant!" "Uh-huh," I said. "Well, uh, you''re... welcome to stay? I need to pop off and do my rounds." "Your rounds?" Nya asked. "Yup... Shy and I have to check on the other samurai in the city, right Shy? Just the two of us... not in here, without Nya." Nya pouted. "This is bullying." *** A note from RavensDagger 3 chapters next week!~ Chapter Twenty-Nine - Hush-Hush Chapter Twenty-Nine - Hush-Hush "''Most cyberware is non-functional.'' This line is oft-repeated, but is actually a misrepresentation of the truth. A lot of cosmetic self-modifications are classified as cyberware, even if they have no cybernetic components. Breast enlargement, nekomimi-ism, and height enhancement surgeries should not be considered cyberware." --Rumbler thread, 2042 *** "You sure?" I asked. Lucy nodded, and I didn''t fail to notice the dangerous glint in her eye. "I''m sure," she said. "Don''t worry about it, I''ve been handling catgirls for years, I think I can manage one evening with a random stray." I was having second thoughts, and third, and fourth ones too. The plan, if I dared to call it that, was simple. Shy and I were going to retreat and go check on Crackshot, and I suppose Emoscythe too. Nya was going to stay at our place. The conversation with her was... a bit awkward. She''d come to New Montreal on a whim, and hadn''t booked a hotel room, and didn''t know anyone in the area. She was also jet-lagged as hell. So we were giving her one of the spare rooms to sleep in. She was, at the moment, conked out on the couch, snoring peacefully as if there wasn''t anything wrong in the world with nothing but one of Lucy''s fuzzy blankets covering her up. I was worried that she''d wake up eventually, but that''d be a problem for Lucy, who, as the best girlfriend ever, was staying behind to keep Nya company and make sure that she didn''t give the kittens any bad ideas. I might have considered sticking around too, but I did need to pop over and check on Crackshot, and Shy... I think Shy wanted to spend as little time around Nya as possible. Even now, Shy was standing stock still next to the entrance, waiting for me to come over without making so much as a sound. I gave Lucy a last hug, then a quick kiss before I darked out towards the elevators. "Ready to go?" I asked Shy. Shy just nodded, then reached down and plucked a stray hair from her outfit. She wasn''t in her samurai gear, not quite. Shy was instead in an oversized sweater-jacket, the sort with a zipper down the front. She had a t-shirt on underneath, without any logos or anything, tucked into a part of baggy cargo pants. It was the kind of look that someone who didn''t want to stand out wore, and it mostly seemed to work. Unfortunately, all-black tended to attract cat hairs... even from weird catgirls. "So, I never asked," I said as we were in the elevator and riding down. "But what are you doing here?" "Um," Shy said. "You... said I could come?" "Did I?" I asked. I regretted asking when Shy flinched back a bit. "Uh, I guess I did. It''s fine. I''m glad to see you, just... text before showing up next time? My place, this whole building really, gets its share of visitors, and they''re not all calm and rational sorts. Actually, they''re never that." "A lot of samurai come here?" Shy asked. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, then nodded. "Yeah, lots." My first instinct was to ask her a question in return, keep the ball rolling, because... well, I wasn''t as good at small talk and social shit as Lucy was, I wasn''t bad about it. I could keep a conversation going and ask about the weather just as well as the next girl, but I could tell that this wasn''t the time for that, not exactly. Shy was well-named. I think Emoscythe mentioned knowing her, and I had to wonder if the goth had been the one to give Shy her samurai name. It was very on-point. Anyway, since Shy wasn''t going to talk, and since it looked like she was going to follow me around for a moment, I figured I''d make the sacrifice and hold up three-quarters of the conversation. "This is actually the building that I became a samurai in," I said. "Weird story, but Lucy and the kittens and me were here on this little field-trip thing. Anyway, incursion happened, aliens showed up, and I got impaled by a display pole thing. The usual origin story." Shy blinked at me. "Okay," she said. "Anyway, a few days later, this place wasn''t quite up for sale, but it was on the market, and for cheap since it had gotten messed up by the aliens. So I bought the topmost floors. Gomorrah bought the two under this parking garage." I gestured ahead as the door into said parking garage opened. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. "Who... owns the rest?" "Dunno," I said. Shy seemed a little taken aback by that. "Isn''t that unsafe?" "I mean, maybe. But most people who have enough money to buy big chunks of a building also probably have the common sense not to fuck with the place where two samurai live. At least, I hope so. There''s like, a dozen or two floors left below. I don''t actually know how deep this building goes into the undercity. If you''re looking for another basement to dwell in, let me know. I bet I can help you get a good price, and we''d be.. .technical neighbours." "Okay," Shy said. It was that non-committal sort of okay which was really just a polite no without the bravery to actually say no. "So, how''d you get here anyway?" I asked. Shy paused, then pointed out across the parking garage. Way out in an unobtrusive corner was a car. I squinted, and my cybernetic eye automatically zoomed in a little and compensated for the relative darkness in the corner. Shy''s ride was a little beige four-door sedan-looking thing. It wasn''t even Protector tech, as far as I could tell, just a car that I wouldn''t have been surprised to see discounted at a used car lot. It wasn''t something that would turn any heads or get any bitches. Parking that in front of even a shitty club would have it towed off. "Uh... nice ride?" I tried. "The fuel economy is... good," she said. "Right, yeah, of course. We''re taking my ride over." I gestured to the Bastion which wasn''t sexy in the curvy way a super car was, but it was definitely a whole league ahead of Shy''s beater. I thought that I wasn''t someone that cared so much about looks, but I supposed that I might be wrong. I did care, at least a little. Shy entered the Bastion behind me, and I noticed her looking around as we entered. I let her snoop as much as she wanted. I didn''t have anything really important in here. She did pause on seeing the MEOW mech parked in the large rear bay of the ship. "This is a very nice ship," she said. "Was it expensive?" "A little. And by a little, I mean yeah, it cost a fortune. A big chunk of the points I earned recently went into this thing. Come on, cockpit''s this way. There''s some seating there. This thing gets a little hard to stand in while moving." Shy followed me into the cockpit and sat down quietly in the rear. I let her stare as I flew through the pre-flight checks and got the ship moving. I punched in the address Crackshot had given me, then rose up and past the regular flow of traffic. It was impressive how few fucks New Montreal drivers gave as I cut them off. I mean, sure, I wasn''t giving traffic laws even a passing thought at the moment, but still, couldn''t they see what was cutting them off before they slammed on their horns? "Fucking traffic," I muttered. "Mhm," Shy agreed. "Got a lot of traffic on the way over?" I asked. "Some," she said. "Yeah. Traffic sucks. And the constant rain too. Wonder if we can do something about that. Like, is it pollution or is it all on purpose?" I wondered. "Mhm," Shy replied. Emoscythe''s place was just off the centre of New Montreal, one of the bigger shopping districts surrounded by several mega buildings. Traffic was, if anything, worse around there, but as I flew in, I noticed a few sirens and flashing lights showing up around me. The police? But they weren''t trying to stop me so much as they were blocking off traffic to make way. "I didn''t know they could do that," Shy said. "It''s a perk," I replied. Not one I''d ever experienced before, but maybe the police around here were on Emoscythe''s payroll? Actually, who was I kidding, they absolutely would be. "You''ve met Emoscythe, right?" "Yes." "And Crackshot? Her current boytoy?" "Ah, no," Shy replied. "Is he really..." "Eh, not really. But it''s funny to think of it that way. If you know Emoscythe, then you know who''s wearing the pants in that relationship." "Ah... like you and Lucy." I blinked. "What''s that mean?" "Never mind." "No, really, what''s that mean?" She never did answer me before I had to pay attention to get us landed properly. *** Chapter Thirty - Is It Really Possible for an Emo Girl and a Country Boy to Build a Doomsday Weapon? Chapter Thirty - Is It Really Possible for an Emo Girl and a Country Boy to Build a Doomsday Weapon? "It''s funny how, with the internet changing so much, and the introduction of the Mesh, old forums somehow... still putter along. They''re like micro-niche communities now. Sometimes with only a few dozen members, sometimes with barely a couple of thousand, but they continue to exist because... well, in a way, they''re someone''s home." --Comment on the KnowYourMesh site page for Ancient Memes, 2056 *** "It''s kind of normal-looking," I said. "What do you mean?" Shy asked as she followed me out of the Bastion. I''d found a rather large part of the topmost parking garage cleared out. There were cones moved aside, and when I came in to land, a small gaggle of wheeled bots with little traffic-cone tops rolled out and directed me over to the spot. There were a few gawkers, but they were keeping to themselves for the moment, which was nice. The place stank of hydrocarbons, like every good parking garage did. It didn''t feel like the kind of place I''d want to use for a meet-and-greet. "I mean, it''s just a normal-ass building. I know that my place has a giant cat on the top, and that''s a little... extreme, but like, I dunno, Emoscythe is all about image. I expected her to live in like, a gothic mansion out in the country. And if she lives in a skyscraper, I''d expect it to be all... thin and sexy and black." "Like a monolith?" Shy asked. "Exactly," I said. I was still only getting one-sentence responses out of Shy, but it was better than mumbled nothings. We were getting somewhere. I was hoping that Shy was maybe not so Shy around some people. Introverts were like that, right? They became a little more extroverted around people they were attached to. Wait... did Shy opening up meant she was getting attached to me? I glanced back, squinting at her until I caught her eye and she stared back for an awkwardly long time. Eh. Whatever. "Let''s go," I said. She nodded, and followed as I took the lead. I wasn''t in full exosuit and all, but I did have that pink scarf around my neck and that long bounty-hunter style trenchcoat on. I kinda liked how I could get away with wearing jeans and comfortable boots and still look decently dangerous with it on. Well, that and the number of guns strapped to myself. I heard a faint hum from behind me and half-turned to glance at Shy. There was a fuzziness around her for a moment, but when I blinked it was gone. "Sorry," she said. "No... problem? Did you do something?" Shy nodded slightly. "I don''t like people taking pictures of me. I have... something to help. It''s usually passive, and I can whitelist, so you should be okay most of the time." "Uh-huh," I said. That sounded like a lot. Shy subvocalized something. I could see her neck move a bit, then I received a small packet from her via text. I glanced it over and it looked like the details of some sort of anti-spyware system? Before you ask. It''s a bit of cyberware designed to interfere with the light captured by camera systems and less-efficient organic eyes. I nodded. "Simple enough," I said. No, Catherine. It''s very much not simple. It''s so complicated that you''d need six doctorates in different subjects to understand more than the surface level. But yes, the effect of it is relatively easy to understand. It makes Vanguard Shy difficult to impossible to capture on anything short of film. It didn''t work on old-school film? Like, that brown stuff that they used to have in those cameras with a crank on them? Wild. Shy and I slipped into the building proper at the end of the parking garage, and I was very... whelmed. It looked like every other lobby ever. Maybe a little cleaner? It sure didn''t stand out much. "Now where do we go?" I muttered. Shy answered by pointing to a wall. There was one of those floating plexiglass sign boards hanging just off the wall, with labels and arrows pointing the way. Elevators to our left, emergency exit ahead, House of Emoscythe Mordeath Noir to the right. Her name was so large that I suspected the person who made the sign had to work around it. "Okay, I guess we go that way," I said. ''That way'' turned out to be around a small corner and down a long corridor. At the end was an all-black door, set into pristine white walls. Two busts stood on either side of the doorway, each one atop a white marble-looking plinth. They were of women in flowy dresses, and looked like they were carved out of marble or something too. Only their faces were extremely gaunt, and I could see the bones beneath their skin. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. The eyes in the statues tracked me as I approached, and I was pretty sure there was some automated defence shit hidden somewhere in the corridor too. There was a welcome mat sitting at the front of the door. It didn''t fit at all. In fact, it clashed so hard I stopped before stepping on it and pushed the edge up with the toe of my boot. I kind of expected to find a trapdoor or like, a landmine underneath, but there was nothing. The welcome mat said "Howdy!" in a large country font, with a little cowboy hat hanging off the Y. "That looks like something Crackshot would have," I muttered. "Are they this deep into their relationship?" Leaving some clothes over or something was one thing, but picking out furniture? Even if it was just this cheesy welcome mat? That was a whole other thing. I reached over and knocked twice. It only took a minute before the door swung open, revealing a smiling Crackshot Cowboy. "Heya!" he said before stepping back. "C''mon in! Can''t leave ya out in the cold. How was the drive over?" "Not bad," I said as I stepped in with Shy. "Do you know Shy? She was helping during the whole Big Gun incident thing. She''s a local too." Shy looked up and blinked, she was in the process of removing her shoes by the entrance for whatever reason. Crackshot grinned, and reached out to shake Shy''s hand, which she accepted with some hesitation. While he did that, I took a moment to spy on their place, and look Crackshot up and down. He was in jeans, but no boots, just big comfy looking socks. He was wearing a slightly oversized knit sweater and his old cowboy hat. He looked comfortable, but almost entirely out of place. Emoscythe''s house, at least the entrance lobby, was huge. Tall ceilings, held up by frequent pillars, lots of glossy stone flooring and walls, and several modern-styled chandeliers that hung from the arched ceiling. There was a clear mix between old gothic style stuff around, and then more modern, abstract art. "Is Emoscythe here?" I asked. There were no signs of her. Well, except for the tastefully designed room inside the obviously huge home that had to go for a million credits a month or so. "You missed her, actually," Crackshot said. "She left about three hours ago." "And yet you''re still at her place?" I asked. "Even though she''s not here?" Crackshot grinned at me, but that did nothing to hide the little blush that crawled across his nose and onto his cheeks. "Oh-hoh," I said. "You''ve been a busy guy, huh?" "A little," he said. "She, ah, took me under her wing, if you know what I mean." Domesticated him, more like. But he seemed happy, so whatever. "Good for you," I said. "Do you two want something to drink? There''s alcohol here, or just whatever if you''re not into that," Crackshot said. He started to lead us through the house, which took a long time because the entrance hall was larger than some warehouses. Eventually we made it to a space with a kitchen, a living room, and a view. A huge bay window opened up the room and gave an open view out of the side of the building. I could see half of New Montreal spread out before me. "Damn," I said. The city looked good from this angle, behind a foot-thick wall of what was probably glass able to resist an orbital strike. The angle was damned near perfect, with the traffic stretching out in parallel lines away from the building and creating a floating grid over the rows of skyscrapers and mega buildings. "Yeah. she bought this place specifically for the view," Crackshot said. "Well, that and it''s close to where she works and the centre of the city. Beer? Whiskey? Uh, there''s wine, but I don''t know enough about it to guess at what''s good." "Just soda," I said. "Uh, same," Shy said. "Sure thing," Crackshot said. He wandered off to the kitchen, which was next to the living room but still a good dozen metres away and behind a kitchen island with more square footage than most apartments. "This place is... nice," Shy said. "Yeah. You''ve met Emoscythe before, right?" She nodded. "Yes. She''s very... yes." "Yup," I agreed. "I guess she likes her luxuries." "And her and Mister Crackshot... are... ah, dating?" "Like I said, she likes her luxuries." *** Chapter Thirty-One - Anti-Vampire Measures Chapter Thirty-One - Anti-Vampire Measures "What can be more innocent than cute videos of cats and dogs playing and being wholesome? But there''s a danger in such things! Cute-Addiction is a REAL and PRESSING issue that is affecting MILLIONS of young Americans right now. Enemies of our proud nation are seeding our internet with disgusting videos of kittens and puppies and... and otters being cute and cuddly. Why? It''s not because they love such things themselves! It''s to distract US from the REAL issues!" --The Fear Inquirer, Issue 144, June 2032 *** Crackshot offered for us to stay and have a bit to eat. I said no, because I was a little worried about what Nya might get up to back home. Then Crackshot said that he was hungry, and walked over to the kitchen to start cooking something up. He looked very comfortable with the place. Casually pulling things out of the fridge and lighting up the stove. I didn''t take him for much of a cook either, but the man soon had a buttered up pan on the stove with a cut of steak on it as thick as my thumb. We chatted about not much at all while he cooked, and soon I was second-guessing my earlier refusal real hard as the smell of charring meat rose up. Crackshot somehow volunteered Shy to help mash potatoes and I was suddenly tasked with setting plates and utensils down on the kitchen''s island, which was weird, because I had definitely said no to him earlier when he asked if I wanted to stay to eat, and yet here I was putting down plates for three. "I feel like I''ve been tricked somehow," I said. "Eh, it''s the good kind of trickery," Craskshot said with a boyish grin. "My grandma taught me this one! You go to her place and you''re not leaving so easily. Besides, these are real steaks, from a real cow. ''Wagyu'' they call it. I passed some through a processor the other day to make burgers and Audrey almost had my head. They make a mean steak though." Crackshot seasoned the steak with what looked like random stuff he found on a spice rack in one of the cabinets, and somehow that only made it smell better. He might have gone a little hard on the garlic, ripping one apart and cooking it straight up in the grease and butter of the pan, but... shit, it smelled too good for me to complain. "G''damn," I muttered past a mouthful. "I know, right!" Crackshot said. He cut off another slice of meat, which wasn''t hard, it kept coming apart with just a twist of the fork. The mashed potatoes were good too, especially with the garlic mixed in. It was kind of simple, but better than anything I''d ordered out of a machine before. "You know, I could get used to the samurai life." "You weren''t already?" I asked. He scoffed. "It''s only been a couple of weeks for me! I mean, I hear it ain''t much longer for you, but... you know, my life had a direction before all this, and it weren''t a pretty one." I nodded, and I think Shy did the same on my other side. She was sitting and using me as a sort of barrier. I think Crackshot''s friendly sort of extroversion was alright with her, but she wasn''t talking too much all the same. "So, I kinda figure things are going well with you and Emoscythe. Audrey, I mean. But like... you planning on making this a big thing?" I asked. Crackshot snorted. "A big thing? Well... I don''t know. My family has always been proper sorts, you know?" "I really don''t," I said. He grinned at me. "Figures. I meant... my mom and dad were married, their parents too. I''m not one for religion or anything, but I am one for a big wedding party." "Whoa, thinking about marriage already?" I asked. He shrugged one shoulder. "That''s how I am, you know. If you like a woman you give her a ring and hope she likes you back. Not sure if Audrey is the one for that, though. She strikes me as... well, her own sort of person. Doesn''t seem the sort who''d want to be tied down by a country hick like me. I guess I''ll see how things go? If it''s just a few weeks of rolling in the hay and then we part on good terms, then I guess I''ll be a big boy about it." I reached over and patted Crackshot on the shoulder. Dude was a good guy. Also, a surprisingly good cook, all things considered. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Lucy was still better, though. "Alright," I said as I leaned back and resisted the urge to pat my belly. "That was good, but I really did just come here to check up on you." "That''s kind," Crackshot said. "I''m doing it because I have a gun to my head, not because I''m nice," I replied. He grinned back at me. "Sure," he said. "But uh... hey, if you''re checking in on people, maybe give Hedgehog a look?" "He''s on the list," I said. "Alright," Crackshot said. "Anyway, I''m fine. I''ll let you know if Audrey kicks me out and I need a sofa to crash on." "Yeah, that''s fair. I think Shy has a really nice sofa at her place." Shy''s head whipped up real fast, and from the wide-eyed look of surprised betrayal on her face, she was very much not in favour of that. I laughed, and punched Crackshot in the bicep. "Kidding. You know where I live, yeah? Big cat, can''t miss it. Pop on by whenever, but don''t give the kittens, uh, the orphans living at my place, any weird ideas. I don''t need them to start talking with a hick accent." "Hah! We''ll see. I''m the cool uncle to a lot of nieces and nephews, you know? Even more so now that I''m all samurai''d up." "I''m sure," I said. "Anyway, I''ll keep doing the rounds, but not tonight. Need to head back home and make sure the place is still standing, you know? See you around?" "See you around. Let me escort the two of you ladies to the door, at least." Crackshot was... a gentleman? Was that the term for it? He was polite without the politeness coming from him being worried that if he wasn''t he''d get his ass whooped. It was politeness just because... it was nice to be that way? Different from how I was raised, but whatever. It was nice, and I could see what Audrey saw. Still, not my type, but I''d trust him around the kittens and I''d trust him with my back, which was a damned sight more than I could say about just about anyone else in New Montreal. Shy and I slipped out of Emoscythe''s place with our bellies full and I think in a good mood. "What''s you think of him?" I asked as we started back towards the Bastion. "Uhm," Shy said. It took a while for her to find her words, but we were just walking back, so there was no rush. "He''s nice." "Yeah," I said. "He''s nice. Damned good shot too. Did you know I gave him his samurai name?" "Really?" she asked. "Yup! Crackshot Cowboy, because... well, you know. I think people drop the Cowboy part out a lot. Maybe I''m not so good at naming things." "It''s a good name," Shy said. "Grasshopper named me." "Ah, yeah, she''s a good sort." Shy nodded. "Are you, we, meeting anyone else?" "Tonight? Nah. I''m heading home. Did you want me to drop you off?" She nodded, then shook her head. "My car." Right, it was at my place. "If you want to crash at my place instead of driving in the dark, I do have a couch. And maybe a spare room or two." "No, it''s okay." Yeah, I wouldn''t want to risk Nya getting comfy in the night either if I was her. Shy and I hopped into the Bastion soon after. There were more people gawking at it now than earlier, but I couldn''t find it in me to care if some teens wanted to take selfies with the ship behind them as long as they didn''t get touchy with it. We took off, direction home, and soon enough I could see the familiar cat-topped building standing out from the other skyscrapers in my corner of New Montreal. I loved my home, but it was weird how much... smaller it was feeling recently. Just a few months ago I felt like the city was an unending shithole, misery at every corner and maybe some luxury above. And now that I lived above, it didn''t feel quite as big. Weird how that worked out. Weird how I didn''t care as much as I should have about the people below still. Maybe I could do something about it? Lucy was already helping in her own way, and... yeah, I think some of the other samurai in the area might not mind joining in. It could be as simple as getting food out and making sure the sewers weren''t the only thing we fixed. "Hey, Shy, you ever thought about what you could do to fix the city?" I asked. "Um... not really?" she said. "I mean... sometimes, but it would need to be... big, to really fix things." "Big, huh?" *** Chapter Thirty-Two – Happily Ever After Tomorrow Chapter Thirty-Two - Happily Ever After Tomorrow "Marriage rates have been on a constant downturn for the past forty years. There was a mild uptick in the hyper-conservative push of the mid 2020s, but after that, rates continued to plummet. It''s entirely possible that by the 2050s, marriage as an industry will have completely collapsed. I don''t see this as a good investment." --Wed-co Investors Meeting, 2048 *** There was something inexplicably comfortable about being in bed next to Lucy. Not fucking, just... laying there, with a few pillows stuffed behind me so that I was partially sitting up, blanket up to my armpits and attention on screens that my Augs were projecting before me. Lucy was just close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off of her. She was reading from a tablet that was resting length-wise on that little pinch of tummy she had that I loved to fondle. Resting the way she was, with her neck all bent, and her chin doubled by the weird posture, with her hair tucked into this ugly-ass beige bonnet thing that kept it from being all flat when she woke up... she was pretty. "Is there something on my face?" Lucy asked without really looking away from her screen. "Nah," I muttered. It was enough to deflect her for now. Shy had left almost as soon as I got home, but she promised that we''d go visit Gros Baton together the day after tomorrow, so I''d at least have some company for that. Nya, in the meantime, was resting on one of the couches when I arrived. Lucy had tucked her in with a few blankets and told the kittens to shut the fuck up and let her sleep. Nya slept curled up in a small ball, and seemed to have the habit of biting the end of her tail as she slept. It might have been cute if she wasn''t a full grown woman. I''d have to figure out what to do with her in the morning. She couldn''t just come to every one of my classes, right? Besides, I had the next day off from school, so after dropping Lucy off, I had planned on getting into some trouble. Not literally, but from the little bit of experience I had as a samurai already, and from all the rumours I''d heard about them that turned out to be true, I knew that samurai tended to get into...adventurous situations a lot. So, the question was more about what kind of trouble I could get into and out of without disrupting the rest of my shit. Or I could stay home, refuse to wear anything more complex than boxers and a t-shirt, and just chill and watch TV all day? Tempting... But no. There was, I guess, a sort of pressure to do stuff. I was given a lot of power, and just using it to sit back and do fuck-all wasn''t cool. I was pretty sure that was what Deus Ex did, and she turned out to be a little devil gremlin, so I didn''t want to go down that path. I wasn''t a hero-worshipper. I guess at some point early on I figured out that if I didn''t bootstrap myself out of the shithole, no one was gonna do it for it. There was a minimum that people would do to help each other, and that minimum was often also the maximum. It isn''t profitable to help others. When I lost my parents and my arm and the one eye... yeah, that was a good moment to wake up to learn that shit wasn''t fair, that the world wasn''t a nice place, and that I had to focus on getting mine. Lucy changed that a lot. She''d opened me up, been kind without needing to, but... yeah, Lucy never hid that she loved me because she could use me, and I loved her because I needed her in turn, and I guess at some point the whole ''we do things because we''re selfish'' thing fell apart between us. Real fairy-tale shit. Or as close to it as someone could get. "Wanna get married?" I asked. "Sure," Lucy said. "''Kay," I said with a nod. That was settled then. I felt a sudden flurry in my gut, and it took me a moment to realize that I wasn''t passing gas, it was just... butterflies. I smiled a little, then shook my head and refocused. I had a day to play. So... the sewer thing was pretty much handled. Deus'' babysitting job was getting done, bit by bit. Maybe I could check in on Rac? I hadn''t seen her in a couple of days. She was a tough girl, and was probably fine. Yeah, I''d look into that in the morning, then maybe do some tinkering in the evening. That left the entire middle of the day. I continued to surf through shit on my augs when I noticed something. I had one screen that was scrolling through nothing but local New Montreal news articles, the condensed sort that were usually not much more than a headline and a picture. Gangs of New Montreal Rising Up! I blinked, then opened the page up. The article was some AI slop regurgitation of someone else''s slop. Every layer was like peeling back an onion made of paywalls. "Fuckin'' hell," I muttered. "Myalis, can we cut to the middle of this?" I suppose. But seeing you try to find the little Xs on ads is funny. I rolled my eyes, but when I refocused the paywalls were gone, and Myalis had linked me straight to the original article and also the research that had created it. It was, surprisingly, mostly done by a group of three students from CIAL. They''d been following the various gangs of New Montreal for a couple of years now, with new students picking up where others left off. Some were, from what I could tell, people that lived in the neighbourhoods that those gangs occupied. Others were just doing it as part of some long term anthropology and advertising study funded by the school. In any case, the summary that Myalis gave was pretty good... probably a little too good, actually. I think she might have touched it up for comprehension. The main article was a bit shittier. Some media-type had picked up a lot of that data, looked at recent trends from the last two weeks or so, then continued the lines where they left off and called it ''speculation.'' Basically, the gangs of New Montreal were getting uppity, and there were three big factors in that. First, a lot of corps had fired a fuckload of people in the last one or two weeks. Emergency downsizing, plants shutting down because global logistics shat the bed when aliens invaded all over all at once, and some had been hit hard by that incursion just before the global one. A lot of people being fired all at once was a big factor in the rise of gang numbers, which I supposed made sense. If I had the choice between honest work that paid well and dishonest work that paid the same, I''d lean towards the honest. But between dishonest and an empty stomach? Yeah, that was an easy choice. The second big factor was the incursion pulling manpower to the edges of the city. More police, more PMCs, fewer guards. Right now, a cop in New Montreal made an okay lower-middle class living. A corporate guard made a smidge less. A well-trained corporate sec person made a lot more than either. But joining a PMC company? Right now, the rates were stupid high, and the training was being accelerated like mad to replenish numbers, and that wasn''t just in New Montreal but across the world. If someone had the balls to travel just a few hours south to Mega City New York, they could get a solid six hundred more credits an hour on top of an already respectable pay just because they needed the manpower more. Telling most cops and guards--who often had the training and equipment for the job already--that they could earn a year''s pay in three months working for a smaller PMC drained a hefty chunk of the city''s enforcement workers. And no enforcement meant more wiggle room for the gangs. And the last big factor was that right now, people were in a rebellious mood, and a few of the bigger gangs were painting themselves up as exactly that. It wasn''t too hard to spin-doctor smuggling and knocking heads and protection rackets as just part of the job of a big old revolution. And if it didn''t pan out to anything? Well, the people joining now would be locked in already. I groaned and shut the screens down. I''d have to talk to someone way smarter than me about all of this. But hey... maybe I had a lead already? I''d be at the school tomorrow to drop Lucy off anyway so why not poke at the students who wrote that first article? Yeah, that was an idea. *** Interlude Lucy – School Days Part Three Interlude Lucy - School Days Part Three Lucy woke up slowly and wonderfully. There was warmth to her left. Cat''s body was always warmer than her own, and so she made for a perfect space heater under the blankets, but there was also something cool wrapped around the top of Lucy''s head. Blinking, she reached up and touched something metallic, only to realize that it was Cat''s new arm, protectively wrapped over the top of her head. Cat was sleeping on her side, sort of, with one leg out and touching Lucy and her fleshier hand across Lucy''s hips. She was sleeping, though. Mouth agape, eyes closed, hair all... actually still perfect despite being asleep. Lucy was a little envious of Cat''s new tech hair. Her own was a nightmare to take care of. Her augs lit up for a moment as someone sent her a text. Well, someone with priority texting. She got hundreds of texts every day, but had them sorted so that, depending on the sender, she''d either receive a notification or wouldn''t. The list of people with priority texting rights was tiny. At the moment it was Cat, of obvious reasons, Daniel, because he never texted and if he did it was probably urgent and had to do with the Kittens, and Myalis... Myalis: Good morning, Lucy Leblanc. Lucy grinned then shifted slightly so that she was snuggled in a bit closer to Cat. "Good morning, Myalis," she said in a low whisper. "Is it actually morning for you?" Myalis: To some extent, yes. My physical body is partially in Catherine''s skull, so in that sense, it is morning. The rest of me is in a location where the concept of morning is a lot more fluid. "Mm, mysterious," Lucy whispered back. "Also, Leblanc? Are you getting in on the joke?" Myalis: I think of it less as a joke and more as an inevitability. Your personality profile suggests that you actually do care for Catherine, and while you''re your own person, you have a need for someone like her to further your goals in the short and long term. And you do love her. "And does Cat love me?" Lucy asked. She turned a little, then reached over and moved a curl of Cat''s hair away from her face. Myalis: I can see her brain chemistry. It''s frankly kind of disgusting how much the sight of you lights up her brain. Lucy giggled, then stretched over to give Cat''s nose a little peck. Cat made a face at that, then rolled onto her back, stealing some warmth away from Lucy. "Oh well, time to get up, I suppose." It was only half past six, still early enough that she could spend the next half-hour or so luxuriating in bed next to her special space heater. Lucy shuffled to the edge of their bed, which she still couldn''t believe was so damned large, then sat on the edge of it for a moment. She scooped up some boxers from the floor and shimmied into them, then picked up and sniffed a t-shirt. Cat had worn it last. It smelled like her. Lucy tugged it on, amused by the way it was so tight at the front. Cat would like that. With a bit of a stretch that felt impossibly nice to just be able to do so casually, Lucy fell into her morning routine. First, a couple of quick squats, then she bent down and touched her toes. Finally, because she could, she lifted her legs up one at a time, as high as they could go, and wiggled her feet. A month ago all she could feel of her feet were the occasional spasm or tingle, and moving them required all of her effort. Now it was easy. So easy that she worried that she''d one day forget how hard it had been. She didn''t like that she had suffered for so long but... well, it made her become who she was. When someone was so low that their every breath had them choking on dirt, it wasn''t hard to justify a certain more pessimistic view of the world. The kittens would be starting to wake up soon. Some were probably still awake, actually. The school was sending someone over today to start lessons with them, and she''d been slowly warning the gang that they had to listen and behave, but that didn''t mean that they''d actually do either. Well, whatever. It wasn''t her problem, but the poor teacher''s. Worse case, she''d see if she could send a message to Grasshopper. The samurai was a very busy woman, but Lucy had the impression she wouldn''t mind popping over for a minute to put the fear of god into the brats. She was just starting to pad her way over to the kitchen when something caught her ear. A strumming noise, soft, yet vibrant, and very... real? She wasn''t sure if that was the word for it, but the sound felt like it was alive, not some pre-recorded and edited thing. Lucy had pretty good augs now, courtesy of Cat, better than just about anything on the market, but even with the best of the best, there was still a tinniness and artificial... something to any music she listened to. She wasn''t sure she''d ever enjoyed much real music in her entire life. It wasn''t hard to find the source. Nya was sitting in the living room, bent over a wooden guitar. "Stay with me," she crooned softly. "Mayonaka no doa o tataki." Lucy paused by the doorway and just listened for a while. Nya had a very pretty voice. Softer and less raspy than Cat, more feminine, and she had obviously practiced singing a fair bit to become as good as she was. She sang, her tail twitching in time with the strumming of her guitar, and a cheeky smile appearing on her lips whenever there was time for it. Nya didn''t just have Lucy''s attention, a few of the other kittens were sitting by and staring. Eventually, though, the song ended. "That was beautiful," Lucy said. "Ah, thank you, Lucy nya!" Nya said. She stood up, stretching as she did. Lucy liked Cat''s little cat themed gimmick, it was kind of cute, but Nya took the whole cat thing to an entirely different level. "Where did you learn how to play?" Lucy asked. She didn''t know much about music, but it seemed like a safe question to ask. "I learned in high school, nya! I was in the light music club, and I even had my own little band. It was a good time, mhm! " "Oh, that''s cute," Lucy replied. "Did you sleep well on the couch?" "Oh ny''es!" Nya said with a quick nod. Then she bowed towards Lucy. "Thank you for allowing me to stay in your place." "Hey, no problem," Lucy said. "Want some breakfast? I''m about to cook something up before Cat wakes up." "I will help," Nya said. Lucy decided not to say no to the help, though it didn''t take long after arriving in the kitchen to realize that Nya''s idea of breakfast and her own were different. Nya started to look for a rice cooker, and when she didn''t find one, a brand-new one appeared on the counter. It was shaped like one of those maneki-neko cat statues. Lucy found herself grilling some fish that she was pretty sure couldn''t be found on any ocean on Earth while Nya made miso from scratch, with Lucy jumping in to help where she could. "You know your way around a kitchen," Lucy said. "I live alone, nya," Nya said. "It''s either learn to cook, or eat nothing but food that comes in boxes. And I like to eat healthy, which means fresh ingredients that I trust, nya." "I get that," Lucy said. "Is this tofu?" "Yup! Cut it into cubes, we''ll add it to the soup once the miso is dissolved, nya!" Lucy hummed as she did just that while keeping an eye on the fish. She didn''t know too much about cooking fish, but she had a decent idea of what it should look like by the time it was done. Cat crawled into the kitchen a few minutes later, sniffing at the air more like a starving dog than a stray cat. "What''s that smell? It''s weird," she said. Then she blinked at Nya and nodded. "Right, you''re still here." "I am! Nya! Wanna join my band?" "No," Cat said. "Want some soup? It''s tasty?" Nya tried. "I... okay?" "Then join my band! Unlimited soup, nya!" "No," Cat said. Lucy decided to step in. "Cat has a busy day today, I''m sure." "That''s right," Cat said. "And I''m sure she''d love your company." The look of betrayal made breakfast taste so much sweeter, but so did the idea that Cat wouldn''t be getting into trouble without backup. *** Chapter Thirty-Three – Oh My God, Nya! Chapter Thirty-Three - Oh My God, Nya! "If you want to have a good work life, you need to be friends with your coworkers. It''s ridiculous to think that you can spent twelve hours a day in one space and hate the people there the entire time. Yeah, life sucks, work sucks, and you''re going to spend more hour there than anywhere else in your miserable life, so why do so many people make a point of hating the wage slave stuck next to them?" --Post on WorkersOpinion blog, 2035 *** "OMGN!" Nya said with a gasp. "It has kitty ears!" She was pointing at the top of the Bastion. I was pretty sure she''d seen it before, but maybe this was the first time she noticed that the ship had two protrusions at the top and front that... yeah, they were cat ears. They were armoured, like the rest of the ship, but they were also definitely cat ears. "Uh-huh," Lucy said. "What''s OMGN mean? I mean, I know ''omg'' of course." "Oh my god, nya!" Nya said, and already I had had my fill of the woman. Buuuut Lucy seemed to like her, and I supposed that if I looked past the wall of cringe, she wasn''t that bad. "Myalis likes sticking cat ears on things," I said. "It''s her hobby, and who am I to question it but her pitiful victim? Anyway... you wanted to accompany me, yeah?" Nya nodded. "But I still don''t know what you''re planning to do!" "Yeah, fair. I''m gonna load up my power armour into the Bastion, then we''re going to drop Lucy off at school. I don''t have classes today, but... look, there''s a bit of a gang problem in New Montreal right now, and I think I want to see if there''s anything I can do to calm it the fuck down. The last thing the city needs is open gang warfare on top of all the rest." "I''ve dealt with yakuza before," Nya said. "They gave me a cool sword once." "Uh-huh," I said, but I did make note of that. If they gave her a cool sword, then maybe she didn''t ''deal'' with them in the normal samurai way and actually handled the situation with minimal bloodshed. Or something. I hadn''t seen Nya in action yet, except for that one little scuffle we had. I loaded my power armour into the back of the ship, then made sure there were a few guns around, just in case. If things really went to shit, then I had the M.E.O.W. mech in the back as well, but... well, if I needed a heavily-armoured warmech to handle the gangs, then shit had really hit the fan. I was kind of hoping that it didn''t come to that. Lucy wasn''t telling me to hurry up, but she was shifting from side to side and giving me a look that I knew meant that I was already late, and... yeah, she was right. So we got onboard the Bastion and took off. Nya sat across from Lucy at the back, only glancing around once before settling in. "So, where''s this gang?" she asked. "I don''t know," I admitted. "Our first stop''s actually at the school. There''s this bunch of students that have been studying gangs and stuff, and they probably have a pretty good idea of what''s going on. They wrote articles about it and shit." "Is it a student project?" Lucy asked. "I think so? It could be tied to the... uh... anthropology department." I had to pronounce that one carefully. It wasn''t a word I spat out every day. "Anyway, they wrote a whole article and some media sort mucked it all up for fear baiting. There''s an address to their department in the article, with emails and shit. Can''t be too hard to track them down." "Hmm, let me know how it goes," Lucy said. "Oh! By the way, I''ve invited a few people from the kittens--the adult ones--over to our building. Not home, but to one of the offices next to the clinic. We''re setting up the New Montreal branch." "Already?" I asked. "When do you find the time for that?" "Here and there," Lucy said with a giggle. "But it''s not as hard as you think. You just have to find people who have that spark and who want to get something done, then point them in the right direction and give them a bit of encouragement. Mostly all I do now is act like the last word and kick out anyone too troublesome." "Uh-huh," I said. Lucy was awesome. "Sure you don''t want to be the new mayor?" "I''m not one for elected positions," Lucy said. We landed in Cial a few minutes later. They''d marked out the entire side of one street with black-and-yellow markings, with little signs saying ''Samurai parking'' every three or so metres. I parked on the other side of the street. We got out, and then I went through the motions of giving Lucy a goodbye hug, a goodbye kiss and letting her grab my ass as a goodbye pinch, as one does. And then it was just me and Nya. "Alright," I said. "Now we need to figure out where the anthropology department is. Can''t be too hard to find." The school had a pretty decent interactive map app thing, and once I loaded it, let Myalis loose on all of the malware that came with it, and bypassed the payment options part, I was able to plug in what I needed and had a pretty decent idea for where to go. As it turned out, it wasn''t too far away from the place where Lucy and I had our politics class, just one building over. "So, uh," I said as I started to walk over. Nya seemed fine with the occasional long silence, but it was kind of bothering me. "You like cats? Like, real ones?" "Nya! I do! I only have seven!" "Only seven?" I asked. "Nya would like more, but I don''t like being at home all day. What''s your favourite kind of cat?" "My favourite kind of cat?" I asked. "Are there different kinds? I mean, yeah, obviously, there''s got to be fancy breeds, but it''s not like dogs where they''re real different." Nya shook her head. "Sad. Very sad. I like bobtails. They are very pretty." "I guess I like calicos? The colours are nice?" I tried. "Oh, yes, very cute!" We ended up talking about cats until we made it to the building, which included Nya sending me a few terabytes of cat pictures and videos she''d taken over the last few weeks. It was kind of funny. I had my reservations about Nya overall, but the way her accent grew thicker when she got excited about cats was admittedly pretty cute. The anthropology building wasn''t called that. Instead it was the Applied Anthropology and Targeted Advertisement Department. The entrance hall had a few elevators and a map stuck to one wall that I stared at for a moment before figuring out. The students I was looking for had a small office on the sixth floor. It looked like it was not much bigger than a closet, but maybe that was enough. "I''m not even sure if anyone is going to be here," I said. "They might have classes." "Nya''s good at finding people!" Nya declared. "Yeah. Maybe we''ll go snooping if they''re not here." The elevator stopped and we got out, then it was a short walk to the office. As luck would have it, there was someone there. A younger guy, maybe a few years my senior, with a well-pressed CIAL uniform and short dreads. "Yo," I said. The guy stared at me. I was in my ''casual'' outfit, which meant a trenchcoat and enough grenades to start one hell of a party. Nya was in a skintight armoured suit thing, with her tail swishing behind her and a dangerous smile on. We probably didn''t look friendly. "Can... I help you?" he asked. "Yup," I said. "You one of the students that wrote that article, on the gangs of New Montreal?" The guy stared some more, looked back into his little office space, then turned to me. "No," he said. It was a lie. My augs had flagged his face and school ID already, and he was definitely in the little club that wrote that article, but I couldn''t blame him for denying it. It''s what I would do if anyone showed up and started asking questions. Deny everything and hope for the best. Still, I wasn''t here to grill him. "I''m Stray Cat, this is Nya from Japan." "Holy, you''re that one samurai girl," he said. Then he eyed Nya, and didn''t seem sure what to think. She had more body mods than the norm, and the quality was pretty up there, but it was possible she was just a rich eccentric. Which... she was, but still. "Yup, that''s me," I said with a smile. "Look, I''m not here to mess up your day. I''ve just got questions and I''m not fond of reading dry-ass articles, so I figured I''d just get to the source. You got a few minutes?" "I''ve got class," he said. "I''m sure the school will make an exception if I ask nicely," I said. *** A note from RavensDagger Teaching week, so 3 chapters this week! Chapter Thirty-Four – Welcome to the Broom Closet Chapter Thirty-Four - Welcome to the Broom Closet "THIS SPRING! Come to... The SADDEST MOVIE OF ALL TIME! Turned into the FUNNIEST! STARRING... Jack Black, Steve Carell, and Amy Shumer... Schindler''s List TWO! --Cancelled advertisement campaign, 2029 *** "Nice little... closet you''ve got here," I said. "Is this really all the space you have to work with?" I gestured at the room past the student who was looking between me and Nya, obviously not sure of what to do yet. I was mostly trying to get him to talk. That was often a good way to get people to chill out; complaining about something they wanted to complain about. Bitching was a time-honoured way to make friends and bond with folk, and I was hoping that this dude would calm down fast because he looked ready to bolt. "Yeah, it''s what we have," he said. "Uh, did you need directions or something?" So, he wanted to run, but didn''t want to be rude to the two heavily armed samurai. Which, yeah that was fair. I''d want the same in his shoes. "Nope, this is where we wanna be," I said. "Look, what''s your name?" I had his ID already, but I wanted to get him talking. "Me?" he asked. "No, the wall," I said. I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, you." "I''m Kortas. Angelo Kortas," he said before licking his lips. "Did I do something?" "No, no. Look... okay, usually I''d ask to sit down or something, but I don''t know if we can fit that many chairs in there." The office they had really was a closet. It was maybe three metres deep, but only one wide. A single bulb in the ceiling lit it up, and while there were a few desks crammed in with computers on them and loose papers around, it looked like they didn''t even have a power plug in there. Instead there was a long cord bundled up next to the entrance. I suspected that they ran it across the corridor to steal power from another outlet. "There''s a lounge over there," he said with a gesture back the way we''d come. "Cool. Come on," I said as I turned. I expected him to follow, and after a long moment of hesitation, he did. Nya seemed content to just smile and look around, as if the inside of some school corridor was interesting. The lounge was a small space with one of those very square-angled couches that didn''t look comfortable and a pair of armchairs, both bolted to the floor. A large window at the back was opened up to the front of the building, giving a surprisingly decent view of the campus, and there was the obligatory plastic plant and a pair of vending machines. I blinked at one of them. Six hundred credits for a can? I could buy a gun with that much. "Want anything?" I asked. "Uh, sure," he said. I kicked the machine, then glared at it. I had no idea how any of the hacking programs in my Augs actually worked, but I think the machine felt appropriately threatened by my presence that when I poked at the selection buttons it started spilling its entire contents out. I picked a can off the floor, then underhanded it to Angelo who caught it awkwardly. I grabbed another for myself, then waded through the cans to one of the seats and popped the tab. "Alright. So, I''m concerned about New Montreal right now," I said. I watched as Nya climbed up and sat on the backrest of the couch, her tail twitching behind her. "The city''s actually doing alright, all things considered. We avoided having every citizen turn into alien chow, twice, which is nice. Reconstruction''s going, the sewers are getting fixed, and people are returning to something like normalcy." "Okay," Angeloi said. "Uh, I mean... thanks?" I snorted. "Sure. Anyway, I read your article. Well, the one you and your friends put out." "You did?" he asked. "I skimmed. Anyway, I want things to go back to normal, to stay nice and safe. That way I can focus on what''s important; making sure Lucy is happy and not trying to take over the city. So, when I hear about gangs being uppity, I get a little concerned, you know?" "Who''s trying to take over the city?" Angelo asked. I shook my head. "That''s not the important part of that. Your article, and your research. It kinda hints that you have a good idea of what''s going on in the gang side of things." I leaned forwards, drink held casually. "Gimme the downlow, yeah?" Angelo leaned back, then shrugged. "I joined the club about two years ago? It was a cool way to get extra credits and... look, I live in the dorms now, but I used to live in a part of NM that was a little rougher, you know? I got lucky on some tests and was able to ride a scholarship to get here." "Cool," I said. "So I know some of the gangs. Some guys my age stayed with them, and I make a point of keeping in contact with them. The last guy in charge of this club used it to get some extra points, and when he did his thesis he used some of the research the club did for it. I was thinking of doing the same, you know?" "That sounds fair," I said. "So, it''s just an extra credit thing?" He squirmed a little. "I''m in Anthropology and Targeted Cultural Marketing. That''s what my bachelors is. I like this stuff. It''s cool." "Yeah," I said. "So, imagine for a minute that I''m really, really stupid, and that you have to explain things to me as if I''m a kid with like, three different attention deficit problems, okay?" When he nodded, I continued. "So, what''s going on with the gangs?" "It''s... okay, like I''m explaining to a kid? I can do that. Uh... the gangs exist for two reasons. I mean, there''s more, obviously, but broadly? Two reasons. The first is to make a lot of money, the second is to be a sort of... community thing? A family? A lot of the gangs start off as just people that have shared cultures or work or something coming together. Sometimes it''s safety, sometimes it''s something innocent." "Okay, I''m following so far," I said. "Right. So, with the incursion, a lot of these gangs rose up. Someone had to keep the lower neighbourhoods safe, and it wasn''t going to be the cops or the army. A lot of problems with squigglies." "Squigglies?" Nya asked. "Uh, Model Sevens," Angelo said. "We call them squigglies. Because... yeah." I nodded. They did look like a fistful of spaghetti, at least until they took over someone''s body and zombfied them into a meat puppet serving the Antithesis. "Got it. So the gangs more or less stepped in and helped where they could?" "Yeah. But that also means a lot of power. And control over some areas and neighbourhoods. And since a lot of people are without work right now, recruitment is way up. In some areas, the gangs run the supermarkets. If you want food, you go through them." "So, that''s nothing too new, just bigger." Angelo nodded. "It would be fine, I think, only the gangs have started to consolidate." "Consolidate?" I asked. "Oh, right, like explaining to a kid. Um... the leaders of some gangs are friends with leaders of others. And they''ve been working together in some spaces. Some were wiped out too. Anyway, the point is, they''re acting like companies, and when one company is much bigger than the other and they both occupy the same corner of the market..." "They consolidate. The product gets worse, and way more expensive, half the employees lose their jobs, and the people at the top get way richer," I said. "Okay. Never thought that would work for gangs, but I guess they''re kind of a business, if you squint your eyes." "Oh! We''re going to be the anti-monopoly people to your local yakuza, then?" Nya asked. "Ah, shit, that might be what we have to do," I said. "I imagine that if we let the gangs grow too strong, it''ll be a problem?" "They want to change things," Angelo said. "Across the city. In a big way." "That''s not so bad," I said. He winces. "It might be? There''s precedent for this kind of thing, and it usually means things get worse for everyone. Or you end up with a city that''s a lot more anarchic for a while. Usually until one corp or another steps in and takes over fully, or they annoy the local samurai enough that the gangs get decapitated and then, uh, things turn into a sort of civil war as all the smaller gang factions get to fighting, but it usually calms down within a year or two." I pinched the bridge of my nose. Yeah, this is exactly what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. "Right... I suppose I might as well handle this now." *** Chapter Sixty-Four – The Next Bunch Chapter Sixty-Four - The Next Bunch "What''s the next one?" I asked. "Gimme a sec," Sharp said. "You know, I can only write so fast. This one''s got a long explanation too." Narrative Authority If you demand an explanation, the universe itself starts talking. A villain who would never monologue finds themselves unable to stop. The more you understand, the more likely you are to win. Hmm... I had to think on this one. A perk that seemed to maybe play with probability? The last line was the one that stood out to me. The ability to make a foe monologue was neat, and in the right moment it could be strong, but most targets had guards and companions, and ''villain'' felt rather like a restrictive hole to put someone in. Oh, there were plenty of CEOs, politicians, cult leaders and depraved killers that fit the bill, but they were probably one in ten thousand. Most of the people we''d be fighting were more ordinary. It was extremely uncommon for me to have a job taking out a ''villainous'' CEO. It was far more likely that I was hired to plug a leak, or take out a whistleblower, and they rarely stood out as villains to me. The last line, ''The more you understand, the more likely you are to win,'' that struck me as very powerful. I didn''t like going into a situation blind, and this perk sounded like it would reward research and time spent scoping a place and target out. "Star?" I asked. "Yeah, it does sound pretty decent," Sharp said. "We have a lot with stars though, and this one..." Power Through Love and Rage If you love someone, they cannot slip from you, and if you hate someone, then you will not suffer them to live. The universe acknowledges that those you love may not die just as those you hate cannot be suffered to live. "Oh." I wanted this. I wanted that perk so bad. A form of immortality, or at least a powerful protection, applied uniquely to those I loved? I would never have to bury a kitty again. The hate part didn''t matter, it was the love that did. "Yeah," Sharp said as she added a star next to it. One Liner Execution When you say something cool before an attack, it always lands. If you say something cool after, it kills. If you''re not looking at an explosion, then it cannot hurt you, because that wouldn''t be cool. Very strong, but entirely unusable for Sharp. "Skip," I said. "But... it sounds kind of good, no?" "How many levels in Cool do you have?" I asked. Sharp pouted, and started writing the next one. Yeah, I figured as much. Quiet Main Character Energy If you keep to yourself, mind your own, say nothing, and act according to your own thoughts, then the people around you will gravitate your way, knowing that even in silence, you are competent. I sighed. "You''re too loud for this one, Sharp." "I can be quiet," Sharp muttered, but she notably didn''t add a star to this one either. Retcon Immunity When retcons occur, you will find yourself a step to the left of reality, displaced for the moment it takes for things to snap back into place, and then, once more, you will be back. "When retcons occur?" I asked. This thing made it sound like it was a regular occurrence. Was there a retcon every week or something and no one knew about it? What were the implications of that? I... did not like that, not one bit. Unfortunately, the power didn''t seem overly strong on the face of it. Or maybe it was the strongest here and I just didn''t have a way of knowing. If retcons were a thing, did we want the attention of those causing them? Probably a safe one to skip. Training Montage Master As long as you participate in a long session of focused training, you will feel time slip through your grasp, but knowledge will do the opposite. You come out of training sessions far ahead of where you started, feeling refreshed and ready to put new skills to work! "I like this one," Sharp said. "It''s a shortcut. Powerful, certainly, but a shortcut nonetheless. You''ll get the same benefits from putting in the elbow grease." "But it''ll take a lot longer," Sharp said. "And you''re pressed for time?" I asked. "Do you have something next week? Planning on taking over the world in a month? If there''s anything we have in abundance right now, Sharp, it''s time. Don''t rush. Not when some of the other options we have are so much better." I didn''t tell her, but I also feared that if Sharp thought she was suddenly competent, she might put herself into situations where that competence needed to be tested. Unskippable Like a cutscene with no skips, when you start talking, everyone else has to listen. "Eh," Sharp said. "Eh," I agreed. "This is the last one," Sharp said as she started to write. "I might want this one later, but I think I''ll skip it for now. It''s cool, though!" Voice of an Actor Your voice and way of speaking is entirely within your control. You can speak, scream, shout and sing like the loudest rocker on a world stage or the softest mother whispering sweet nothings to a babe. Sharp was spot-on with this one. It did seem like a neat perk to have. I could think of a few scenarios where perfect vocal mimicry could come in handy, and if Sharp left the assassination business, she could sing in dive bars or something. It wasn''t immediately useful, however. "Okay... lining up the ones with stars," Sharp said. She listed all of the perks that we''d added stars to. ¡îCheat Code Reflexes ¡îDeus Ex Machina ¡îFinal Episode Privilege ¡îMid-Season Power-Up ¡îNarrative Authority ¡îPower Through Love and Rage ¡îLimit Breaker "Tough choices," I muttered. "But I think some can be removed from the list fairly easily." "Okay," Sharp said. "Which ones though? I''m thinking the two that are kinda similar?" "Final Episode Privilege and Mid-Season Power-Up are relatively similar, and both require that you be actively in a... situation. Something narrative. That means they might never trigger at all, or only during a mission that''s gone sideways, which is a good time for a perk, but it also means that we failed to go in prepared in the first place." "Yeah," Sharp said. She crossed both out. "Mid-season sounds cool, but the power you get from that isn''t specified. What if it''s really bad?" ¡îCheat Code Reflexes ¡îDeus Ex Machina ¡îFinal Episode Privilege ¡îMid-Season Power-Up ¡îNarrative Authority ¡îPower Through Love and Rage ¡îLimit Breaker "Okay... next... Cheat Code? It sounds awesome, but you need to be monologuing. I don''t wanna do that." "And someone needs to be actively attacking you, which may well happen one day, but only if we''ve failed elsewhere." Sharp nodded. "And it''s not like I can use it to be cool in like, training or whatever. Why would I monologue then?" Another strikethrough. ¡îCheat Code Reflexes ¡îDeus Ex Machina ¡îFinal Episode Privilege ¡îMid-Season Power-Up ¡îNarrative Authority ¡îPower Through Love and Rage ¡îLimit Breaker "Down to four," I said. "Deus Ex is like the two we crossed out, but kind of better in a way," Sharp said. "It''s a get-out-of-jail free card." "I agree. Narrative Authority is also good. It says win. Winning can mean succeeding in a mission. The more we know, the better our odds. Which is already true, this just makes it moreso." "That is really strong," Sharp said. She chewed on the back of her... my pen, and then nodded. "What about the love power? The power of love and friendship is OP, right?" "I suppose with that perk it would be," I said. "Personally... That''s the one I would take for myself. But that feels like a selfish choice." "It''s selfish to want those you love to live?" Sharp asked. "In a way, it might be." Sharp stared off into space for a long time, then nodded. "I''m taking that one." "Really?" I asked. I was genuinely surprised. "Yup! When I get a girlfriend one day, I don''t want her to die because of me, you know?" I sighed. "Take Narrative Authority, you dolt. And we haven''t talking about Limit Breaker yet, which sounds like a good tool to have once we''re reaching the upper limits of a skill. You should take one or the other. But I prefer Narrative Authority." "What? Why?" "Because the chances of us getting stuck in a losing mission is an order of magnitude more likely than you talking to a woman without shoving your own foot in your mouth." "Hey!" Sharp whined. "I''m... I''m not that bad." "Maybe Narrative Authority also applies to conquests of love. But if you start flirting with someone, don''t go and bring them here." Sharp pouted, but I saw her gesture in the air, then nodded. "It''s done! I''m now stronger! As long as I know something about the thing I''m doing!" "So, nothing''s really changed yet except the urgency needed to get you to hit the books." *** A note from RavensDagger :3 Got a cover for the TTRPG!~ Gonna do a Kickstarter for it... probably next month? And then if that works out, I might consider doing more TTRPGs. I think the world of Cinnamon Bun could use one, and Dead Tired as well? Ivil Antagonist... hmm, there''s a power system in place that could be gamed, but how do you turn Flirting and Useless Lesbianism into skills? Kittypunk could be a cool TTRPG as well, I guess! Chapter Thirty-Five – Welcome Under God’s Grace Chapter Thirty-Five - Welcome Under God''s Grace "Today, the new pope--coming in to replace the last Pope, Pope Sanctum.exe the first, who was consumed in the Lagos, Nigeria incursion while visiting the city as part of a relief convoy--was named by the conclave at the Second Sistine Chapel at the Vatican, an event proudly sponsored by Apple. The new pope, Pope Innocynt XIV is the first AI pope to be elected to the position in the church''s history. A controversial decision to many of the faith." --Catholic World News, 2044 *** Angelo was a lot more comfortable with us by the time we were done. Unfortunately, he didn''t have too much more to add. At least, nothing immediately pertinent. Nya asked a few questions, about the names of gang leaders and how things were organized, but while I paid attention, it wasn''t anything too helpful. Or maybe it was, but I had no memory for names just dropped so casually, and the economics of running a gang wasn''t something I cared so much about. Lucy might care, a little, but... yeah. Angelo was decent about it, though. He returned to the little office he shared with two others and copied all of the files they had. He warned Nya and I that anything copied off of a school computer would have CIAL''s DRM and ICE implanted on it. The kind of shit that might try to fry someone''s unauthorized augs. That could mean a headache if you didn''t have a decent firewall. It could mean your augs running so hot they slagged themselves (which sucked, because modern augs were implanted over the eyes and usually under the skin). Or it could straight up kill someone if they had too much unsecured cyberware all connected together. Myalis barely even glanced at the DRM before it shrivelled away and died. What Angelo had given us was several years worth of notes, half-written articles, spreadsheets, and a lot of rampant speculation. It looked like he and his pals had tried to find some novel correlations, but the data they were using was kind of shit to begin with. There was one article whose name forced me to open it. The Plausible Link Between the Cost of Milk and the Spread of Drugs in an Urban Environment. Yeah, there might have been some meat in that one. Still, it looked like they were pulling a lot of their information from the New Montreal Su?rete?, the government-run police. Those idiots couldn''t be trusted to keep an automated speed trap running properly, so I wouldn''t trust anything they reported. "Well, that''s a lot to work off of," I said. "I hope it helps," Angelo said. "Most of us do this for the extra credit, but I think we all hoped that it would come in handy for something beyond advertising or adjusting insurance rates, you know?" "I get that," I said with a nod. "Can you do me a solid? I mean, beyond all of this?" "Um, sure?" he said. "Let your pals in the gangs know that I''m looking into whatever they''re up to, yeah?" "You want me to deliver a threat for you?" Angelo asked. I made a so-so gesture. "More of a friendly reminder. I''m trying to fix New Montreal up in my spare time. It''s like... a hobby? I don''t think anyone enjoys a hobby when someone else comes along and pisses all over it, you know? So yeah, let them know that I don''t mind if they start a union, hand out bread, and keep people safe. That''s all cool. But pushing drugs, killing indiscriminately, or doing seriously fucked up shit? That might fly some of the time, but now''s not one of those times." I was absolutely brimming with shit. I had never given a single credit''s worth of a damn about what the gangs of New Montreal did unless it was impacting me and mine directly. The most I had ever done about one was head out with Gomorrah to mess up those Sewer Dragons, and that had consequences that I was still handling now. But, for some stupid reason, some people thought that I had a whole lot more power and influence than I actually did. The moment anyone started to question my actual authority, I was straight up fucked. Until that happened... well, maybe Angelo would be able to reach a few of the right ears, and then news would spread and a few gangsters would chill the hell out. A few words spoken here and there was a cheap price to pay for that kind of potential return. "Alright," I said. "Anyway, see you around, maybe. Nya, you ready to go?" "Nya!" she replied, which was probably a yes? In any case, I started to walk out, and Nya kept up. "So... you''ve been a samurai for a while?" "Mhm!" Nya said. "I have. But don''t call me an old lady. I can still kick your butt!" "Right," I said. "You mentioned how you dealt with the... what did you call them? The Yakuza? That''s just Japanese for gang, right?" "More or less. Mostly less, but it''s close enough, nya!" "Cool. How?" Nya snorted, then next thing I knew, she had an arm wrapped around my shoulders. "Let Nya tell you all about it. First, the bad guys did some bad things, but in a stupid way. Very loud. Very obvious. Then, Nya''s... coworkers, the other Ronin, decided that they needed to be put in their place, because they were hurting people and it was stupid. So, they told Nya where to go, and then I kicked a lot of butts." "You have no idea, do you?" I asked. Nya smiled at me, and I was pretty sure she had some sort of cosmetic cyberware because there was no way someone''s face was meant to look that smug naturally. I sighed. "Okay, so who can I ask for help?" "I thought you knew all the local Ronin?" Nya asked. "You''re a very social sort of cat." "Yeah, but I can''t think of any who might actually be able to help. Deus Ex is a little shit. Emoscythe might be good for critiquing the gang''s fashion sense or mowing through them like a blender... there''s Jolly Monarch, I guess, but I don''t know him well. He''s in tight with the Family too, and if I ask them for help, they''ll try to help themselves first. The other samurai around here are mostly like me, newer and less experienced." Nya''s grin turned a little less smug and a bit more... honest, I guess? "You''re a good kitty, knowing when to rely on the bigger cats." "Do you have to?" I asked. "Nya! I do! Being all serious all the time''s no good. You''ll get ulcers!" "Then I''ll buy a new stomach," I grumbled, but maybe she had a bit of a point. A small one. "Fine. So, unlike you, I don''t have someone to point me in the direction of who''s ass to kick." "Tough, nya," she said with a serious nod. "What about non-ronin friends?" Did I know anyone that could help? I thought about it the entire time as we returned to the Bastion. The people I knew before becoming a samurai weren''t the reliable sorts. Most I haven''t really thought of since. Mostly I''d relied on Lucy, and my time was taken up by the kittens. Since then... Gomorrah would help me, if I asked her honestly, but she wasn''t... Oh, right. "I think I know someone," I said. "It''s a bit of a longshot, but she might know the right person to ask." "Nya! Longshots are the best shots, no?" "I think that they''re actually, generally, the worst shots," I said. "But you do you." "So, where are we going now, nya?" "Home," I said. Nya gave me a confused look, but she didn''t argue as we got into the Bastion and took off. I pointed us home, and soon enough was coming in to park. I was getting pretty used to the trip back and forth by that point. "So, who''s this mystery friend?" Nya asked as she followed me out of the ship. "How do you like nuns?" I asked. Nya blinked. "Oh! Wait, Nya knows this one! You have a special ronin friend who is a nun!" "I think ''special friend'' is a mistranslation," I said. "But yeah, Gom''s cool. Haven''t seen her in a couple of days, actually. But she''s not the one we''re going to see. Instead, we''re looking for Gomorrah''s own special friend. Heh." Instead of heading up towards home, we went down. A short ride later we were at Gomorrah''s front door. There was a cross on it, and a cheesy mat below that read ''All are welcome under God''s grace''. I was pretty sure there were some turrets hidden in the walls. Fire-y ones. I rang the doorbell anyway. Maybe I should have texted? But fuck, we were literally next door neighbours. There wasn''t a sound, not until the door swung open and I found a familiar blonde staring at me. "Catherine," Delilah said. "And... Ronin Nya. A pleasure to meet you. I''ve heard of some of your exploits." "Nya! Yup! I''m famous," Nya said. "Exploits? Like what, licking her own ass?" I asked. Delilah sighed. "It''s nice to see you haven''t changed," she said. "What''s wrong, Catherine?" "Can''t I just be here to say hi?" I asked. She stared. "Oh, fine. Is your girlfriend in? I need to talk to her." *** Hope//Punk Update! Hi! Just wanted to do a biiiig update on the Hope//Punk TTRPG! We''re on Version 0.49, which means... about 49 days spent working on the project. It''s about 80,000 words, 267 pages. I''m pretty chuffed that it''s going so well. We''re about to have our 9th playtest on Saturday, testing the new Street Samurai class and maybe Hacking as well (and maybe the Model Nine, but don''t tell the players that!) I''m hoping to do a Kickstarter, probably in... idk, August? Yeah, that seems like a reasonable time to do that. Anyway, uh... here''s some sections that I think look neat? I''m mostly sharing this because I''m excited about it... that''s all. You can try the PDF version out here, btw: SCSTTRPG - HopePunk V0.49.pdf There''s frequent updates on my Patreon, for free, as well, if you want to keep up to date with the project! Chapter Thirty-Six - Nun Your Business Chapter Thirty-Six - Nun Your Business Chapter Thirty-Six - Nun Your Business "The word Computer comes from the Latin word... computer, which means ''machine that computes.'' It''s one of many modern words that means things today that they also meant before." --Me, a memoire, 2039 *** Delilah stared at me. Really stared at me. "Why do you want to talk to Franny, Catherine?" she asked. "Is this some sort of prank?" "I don''t play pranks," I said. "Look, we''ve got a situation brewing, and I wanted to talk to someone who knows how the gangs work." Delilah shifted to the side, her shoulder resting against the doorframe. "And the first person that came to mind was my... was Franny?" I shrugged. "Her or maybe Rac? But I don''t want to get the kid too involved in all of this, on account of her being a kid and all." Delilah eyed me for a moment more, then she sighed and stepped back. "Come on in, both of you. I''m liable to leave you wallowing on the doorstep, Cat, but Nya at least deserves to be treated as a guest." "Hehe, Nya gets special treatment, because she''s so cute." "I don''t think that''s what she said," I replied. "C''mon. Maybe we can bum some food off of her while she''s feeling generous." Delilah snorted from just inside. She tried not to smile, but I could tell that she was actually in a pretty decent mood. I''d kinda learned to pick up some cues from her body language alone after spending so much time around her, and being able to see her face just made it all the easier. She escorted us over to her kitchen, then got busy behind the big island thing in the middle while Nya and I took some stools to sit on. "Do you like coffee, Nya?" "Mhm!" Nya replied. "With lots of sugar and milk." "I can manage that," Delilah said. "I''ve sent a text to Franny. She''s on her way. Should be here in a few minutes at most. She was already on her way back from the abbey. But in the meantime, what are you looking into, exactly?" "Right, so the gangs are acting up, I guess? They got a little boost with the incursion pulling a lot of people into the PMCs and out of security, and there''s a lot of places that have closed down. Maybe it''s temporary, but a big drop in jobs means lots of folks with nothing to do who still need to eat." "I see the logic," Delilah said. "And now they''ve become a problem?" "Maybe? Maybe not yet. I just feel like it''s one of those things... if you''re not on top of it, it''ll fester and then you will have a problem. It''s like... what do you call that stuff when your bits go green?" "Gangrene?" Delilah asked. "You''ve seen that before?" "Once or twice," I said with a shrug. "It''s not pretty. I think, back in the day, they used to burn that off, right? I think today we have medicine for it. So that''s where I''m at now. We either head it off now, burn it up later, or find a cure. Personally, I''d rather stamp this out before it becomes too big of a problem." "Very... ah, proactive, nya," Nya said with a nod. Delilah hummed to herself as she finished preparing four small mugs of coffee. She placed them on a tray, then brought it over before fetching a small metal thing for milk from the fridge and a glass jar filled with sugar cubes. "It''s not the worst idea I''ve heard from you," she said. "But I don''t think taking on the gangs will be all that easy. And having a samurai... multiple samurai, galavanting around New Montreal attacking random gangs might cause more trouble in the long term." "I don''t know about galavanting," I said, testing the word a little. "But I think we can probably solve this without resorting to nukes and shit that''ll have us in the evening''s media feeds." I took a sip of the coffee, made a face, then took the milk from Nya when she was finished with it. I poured some in until the coffee was almost more white than brown. Delilah took a sip of her own. Black, because she was weird that way. "I suppose. And you think Franny can help?" "I hope so. It''s that or I have to rely on the Family, or people that I don''t know as well. Franny, at least, won''t fuck me over." Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. "No, she wouldn''t do that. She might mess with you a little at times, but she takes the health of the city, spiritual or otherwise, quite seriously." Delilah looked up, then smiled. "Speaking of... she''s here now, I believe." She was right. Probably plugged into the house''s security or something. Franny came into the kitchen carrying one of those unfoldable grocery boxes with the gif-ads on the side. It was filled with random bits of food. "Hello!" she said. "Hi Cat, been a minute. Hello... ah, I''m sorry, I don''t know your name." "Nya is Nya, nya!" Nya said. "Uh, hi Nya Nya," Franny replied. The mistake only made Nya grin like an idiot though. Then Franny came up to Delilah. She half-turned, put the groceries down, then... they stared at each other. Nya and I both went silent as we watched the two of them get progressively more red, and then, finally, as if they had to get it over with as quickly as possible, they gave each other the quickest, most chaste peck ever. I felt my brows climbing at that. Not so much the kiss, that was... kind of a lame kiss. I''d eaten burgers with more sexual energy than they put into that smooch... it was more the way they both looked so embarrassed about it, but also kind of pleased. Young love, or whatever. Or maybe this was more of a Delilah and Franny problem, because when Lucy and I were in our ''young love'' phase, we were banging on every surface, horizontal or otherwise. "So, ah, Catherine and Nya here have come over to talk about something you''re more familiar with than I am," Delilah said. She licked her lips right after, and wasn''t even looking at Franny. "That''s right," I said, because anything to fill out the awkwardness was worth it at this point. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Nya and I were obviously interrupting something. Maybe if we weren''t here, they''d be up to something scandalous, like holding hands, or looking each other in the eyes and blushing. I held back from rolling my eyes. "Figured you might be able to give me the low-down on the gangs." Franny shrugged. "I probably can. I was never part of any of them, but I used to help deliver food to impoverished neighbourhoods, and I''ve smacked a few clowns around too. Got a rep, you know? But yeah, I made some... let''s call them friends in the undercity. What do you need to know, exactly? I might not know everything, but I could point you in the right direction." "Thanks," I said. "So, what''s the easy explanation?" "Easy is that everything is rather complicated," Franny said. She saw the fourth mug of coffee and smiled before taking it. Also a black coffee drinker. Gross. "It''s all about who knows who, who pisses off who, and which charismatic jerk with enough credits can convince others to work for them." "Right," I said. "It''s not that bad. You mostly have... I guess to simplify it, three types of gangs?" she said. "Go on." "The first is the type you''re probably thinking of, from like shows and movies. Street gangs. They start off as small communities, then grow a bit. Lots of protection rackets, extortion, drugs. Some aren''t that bad though. They exist to keep their space in the city safe. Some are like extended families, or clans." She shook her head, orange hair shifting with the motion. "Then there''s the... let''s call them professional gangs?" "It''s a profession now?" I asked. She laughed. "Sorta? Those are more about casinos, smuggling, drug production and sales. Lots of big money. They tend to be a bit older, more settled in, with longer reputations. A lot more business-like, but also more dangerous." "Alright," I said. "And the last?" "Union gangs. They''re mostly formed around the factory districts. A lot of workers banding together to get what they want. Technically I think they''re just unions, but a lot of them spill over into doing the kind of stuff you''d expect a gang to do. And they always get labelled as gangs and terrorists by the police and corps." "Obviously," I said. Hurting the bottom line was terrorism of the worst sort. "So... if I want to tell the gangs to chill the fuck out for a bit, where do I start?" *** Chapter Thirty-Seven - The Rolodex Gambit Chapter Thirty-Seven - The Rolodex Gambit Chapter Thirty-Seven - The Rolodex Gambit "There are some things that are just... you know, common decency? Nice things to do. You don''t need to do them, but it doesn''t hurt anyone, doesn''t take a lot of effort, and it makes people just a little happier. So, yeah, open doors for people, nod to them when passing by, say hello to the person behind the counter, take off your shoes on entering someone''s house, and just be a little more polite." --A Man''s Guide to Living Good, 2038 *** "So, how many gangs are there, across New Montreal?" I asked. Franny shrugged, still while holding her coffee close. "No way of knowing, really. Maybe ten thousand?" "Gangs?" I asked. "No, wait, I guess that makes sense. Most are probably small-fries, right?" "Yeah. Most are like, a few people that hang out. They technically count, but they''re not what you imagine when you think of a gang," Franny said. "But if you''re talking about big gangs, of like a thousand or more people? There''s probably a hundred of those in the city, maybe a bit more." "That''s some easy math there," I said. "A hundred thousand gang-members in the city? That''s... like, a significant chunk. And it''s not counting members of those smaller gangs as well. Fuck, we''re never going to be able to handle all of that." Delilah gave me a look, one eyebrow rising. "Handle?" she asked. "Right... I guess it''s not like we need to arrest them all. Just give them a slap on the wrist and a reminder not to fuck shit up." I leaned back a bit, then nodded to myself. "Yeah, okay. So the best would be to contact all the leaders of those gangs, right?" "That couldn''t hurt," Franny said. "No idea how you''d manage that. Though..." "Though?" I asked. "There''s a way to set something up. It''s happened a few times before. I think the last time was during the VV crisis." "What''s VV, nya?" Nya asked. Franny frowned. "They don''t have that in Japan?" Nya shrugged. "Nya is high on life!" "Right, uh... right. Anyway, VV, or vee-vee, is short for Velvet Valium. It''s not actually valium, it''s some sort of synthetic benzodiazepine derivative," she said, pronouncing that last bit very carefully. I was impressed she knew the name offhand. "There was a huge lab that produced it by the ton down in Mega City New York, and it started to become popular here. Anyway, the gangs, a few of the bigger ones at least, called a sort of conclave? They talked it over and banned the sale of it. Strung up a few guys from smaller gangs trying to peddle it here. It''s still around, but not super common." "That''s altruistic of them," I said. Franny snorted indelicately. "No. Not at all. The drug of choice in New Montreal is CVV. Uh, that''s ''Ca Vas Vite.''" "It goes fast in French?" I asked as I translated it. "Yeah. You ever seen people on the streets with external cyberware? It looks like a sort of small sack built into a sticky-bangadge?" I nodded. I''d seen something like that before, sure. They were these off-white patches that people stuck to their arms or thighs. The middle part was some semi-transparent plastic, with some sort of little bulb in it. r?¦¡???§£E?S "Yeah, that''s a Cathinones patch. It injects a slow-drip of drugs into the user over the course of like, a day. The more they use, the faster they set the drip. It''s called Rush out west. A mix of like, old-school bath salts and nootropics. It makes everything feel slow around you." "You can just buy speedware that does that," Nya said. "Quick little brain surgery. No drugs required. It''s much safer, nya!" "So, this conclave thing," I said, getting back to the point. "What happened with the last one?" "That was like, six, seven years ago," Franny said. "But nothing bad happened? A neutral ground was picked, I think one of the big casinos on the south shore, and the meeting happened. I don''t think anyone died, and none of the Tcorpos or police interfered. I think the conclave before that one was back during the second-last local incursion, about ten years ago? There was a small outbreak near the city." "Don''t remember that one," I muttered before shuddering. "Anyway. Yeah, let''s do that, then?" Franny eyed me. "I know I was kind of leading to it, but do you really think you can just call for all the gangs to meet up?" "Sure," I said. "Why wouldn''t they want to listen? I mean, besides the fact that what we''re trying to sell them is in their best interest." Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. "Is it?" Delilah asked. "We''ll be telling them to not act in their best interest. We want them to stop pushing for more territory and power." "I meant more... it''s in their best interest, because if they don''t do what we say, we''ll have no choice but to act in our own best interest, and then a lot of them will die." "Ah," Delilah said. She considered it for a moment before nodding. "That''s reasonable enough." "Cool," I said. "So, how do we call one of these conclaves?" "I have no idea," Franny said. I blinked. "Really?" "Yeah, obviously," she said. "I''m not secretly the daughter of some big-shot gang lord. I just know these things because I volunteer to help a lot and that sometimes means bumping heads with some gangs. I don''t have the leaders of the gangs in my rolodex." What the fuck is a rolodex? "Yeah, that''s fair," I said. "Maybe we can pop over to that casino and see what they have to say? They''ve got to be linked with someone important if they were chosen last time?" "That seems reasonable," Delilah said. "But don''t start gambling away everything you have while you''re there." "Hey now. I got burned on gacha games once, and it was enough to turn me off on gambling forever," I said. "Nya... likes gambling. She has rolled all the five stars," Nya said. "But it''s okay. Nya is good at winning!" "That''s how they get you," I said. "But yeah... so, anyone wanna go to a casino?" "Right now?" Delilah asked. "Or tomorrow, or the day after. I figure sooner is better than later when we''re dealing with shit that could hurt the whole city, but we also can''t stop to fix every little problem." "You''d end up with a Chocolate problem," Franny said. "A what?" I asked. She stared at me for a moment. "Chocolate? Famous Brazilian samurai from like, the 30s? She basically ran around and tried to fix everything, and within a year it ended up with an entire city in something like martial law. It was a pretty big issue. She wasn''t bad or anything, it''s just that she was taking on so many things at once that eventually she had to shut down the city to make it work again. It was a mess." "And what happened?" "City''s prosperous now, but a lot of people complained," Franny said. "I can live with people bitching." "I feel like you missed the entire point of what I said," Franny said. Delilah smiled. "It''s Cat," she replied. "Anyway. If we''re done not-so-subtly insulting my lack of knowledge of random trivia, can we move on? Big meeting. We get all of the gangs together, or at least some of their leaders, and we lay down the law. We tell them that we don''t care if they rebel a little bit, but they need to keep it within... reasonable limits." "And those would be?" Delilah asked. "I dunno, I''m not the smart one here. You figure that part out, and I''ll do the harder task of encouraging them all to show up, alright?" Delilah nodded. "Fine. I can do that." "Really? I mean, yeah, good. I''ve got some meetings with a few of the other newbies in the city coming up. I''ll ask them to show up." "How many samurai are going to be there?" Franny asked. "Me, Gom, Nya here maybe. I can probably drag Shy along. Maybe two more?" I asked. "Do we need more?" Franny took a long, slow sip of her coffee. "No, I think five to six people able to summon nukes all in one place is enough to get the message across." Right, that was a lot of firepower, wasn''t it? Some cities only had three or four samurai in total. My friends were mostly newbies, but others wouldn''t know that at first glance. All in all, we would be representing a fuck load of potential danger. "Yeah, that ought to do it," I said. "Anyway, it''s approaching the time where I need to go pick Lucy up. I''ll ping you about shit tomorrow, alright?" "Sure," Delilah said. "I''ll see you out." She did just that, escorting me and Nya to the door. "Was nice seeing you again," I said. "We need to chill out together more." "Yes, but every time I end up near you, something tries to eat me." "Hey now, sometimes that thing might be a cute redheaded nun," I said. Delilah sighed. "I''ll see you tomorrow, Catherine. And next time, take your shoes off at the door. You''re not a barbarian." *** Chapter Thirty-Eight - Altruism Everywhere Chapter Thirty-Eight - Altruism Everywhere Chapter Thirty-Eight - Altruism Everywhere "And this award, the New Montreal Award for Excellence in Volunteering... goes to John Nimble, of Nimbletainment!" --2038 Volunteer Award Ceremony *** I left Nya at home before heading out to pick up Lucy. She was her own woman, she could handle a few hours unsupervised, and besides, she seemed happy to be silly around the kids and playfully hissing after Catkiller. The poor mutt did not understand what was going on, but that was alright, he was doing a fine job as long as he was distracting Nya. Nose seemed strangely fascinated with Nya''s tail, which was... yeah, whatever. I left her to the tender care of the kittens, who I put even odds of being able to defeat Nya, samurai or no. I was pretty sure half of them were packing something they could use to shank a fool if it came to it. Jumping in the Bastion I took off towards Cial, and discovered Lucy waiting not too far from my usual parking area. She was talking to a small group, maybe ten, twelve students in all. I recognized that guy Nya and I had bullied just that morning in the group, looking a bit awkward. A second, larger group was lingering nearby, some of them split into their own cliques, and a fair number of them just awkwardly standing around. The wind of the Bastion dropping down kicked up a few skirts, and some students screamed while others laughed. I brought the ship down just a few metres behind Lucy, who never stopped talking, even as her audience was split between looking at her and the very large ship behind her. Such a little show-off. I was grinning as I unbuckled myself and stomped through the back of the ship. I was out before the ramp had fully lowered. It had only been a few days, but it still felt off somehow to be here without wearing the uniform, even if my normal day clothes were way more comfortable. "Yo," I said as I came up behind Lucy. "Cat!" she said before turning my way. She smiled at me, all pretty-like, but her eyes told me an entire story about how much mischief she was up to. "I was just telling people about our plans for the city." "Oh?" I asked. "What plans are those?" "Well, I heard from a particularly squeaky mouse that you were going to be poking at the gangs." "A mouse told you that?" I asked. "Well, the mouse was only partially correct. It''s more that the gangs are barking and basically begging to be poked. And if they''re asking so loud, then who am I to say no?" I wasn''t blind to the fact that at least three of the nearest students were recording on their augs. This was probably not going to end up on the evening news, but it might end up somewhere. "Did you know that the gangs do these weird conclave things?" I asked. "Like a big meetup?" Lucy asked. She was turned towards me, but by the set of her shoulders, I knew that she was also speaking so that the others could hear. I wasn''t sure what she was up to, but I wasn''t one to shove a stick in her wheels. "Something like that. We might do the same. Last thing New Montreal needs is a gang war, or worse, a corpo-gang war. Those always get messy and I''ve invested too much trying to fix the damned place to let some fuckwits blow it all up." Lucy nodded. "I''m sure we can help. I was just talking to Brenda and Mathew and John over here about the good work the Kittens have been up to, helping the community and all that. They''re also the sort of people who volunteer." "Oh?" I asked. A glance over the crowd and... which one was Brenda? Or Mathew and John? What kind of old-ass names were those anyway? A lot of the students were a bit older, I noted. Upper years? Were any of the people here in Lucy''s cooking class, even? "What kind of volunteer work?" "Oh, this and that," Lucy said with a dismissive wave. "They have all the awards and certificates to prove it." "You get certificates for volunteering?" I asked. "If you do the right sort, sure," she replied with a grin. "Anyway! I''ll see what I can do, everyone, but I need to head back home! Bye bye!" The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Lucy waved her goodbyes, but had to shake a few hands, say a few last words, and give out a few quick hugs anyway. I stood by, trying to look properly intimidating and spooky, and I think it worked once I just stared down the first guy who came over and tried to shake my hand. He had some boring line about being impressed by my arm and how his daddy was the CFO of some company that made something similar. Ra?¦­o?b§¦?s? "Oh, thank fuck," Lucy said the moment the Bastion''s door shut behind her. "Rough day?" I asked. "Class was nice, but... Cat, I think I''m turning into an introvert." She stumbled forwards and fell against my chest, her forehead pressing against my collar. "I did too much talking." "Yeah, I''m sure you''re real introverted," I said. "You sure looked the part, standing out there with a bigger crowd than even an A-list politician could pull." Lucy laughed. "Yeah... but it''s hard." "You know," I said as I carefully wrapped my arms around her for a hug. "You don''t need to do any of this, right? You could go to school, keep your head down, learn what you want to, then move on. Be... Lucy the Cook with the bakery out back." She snorted. "Or just... be Lucy the very cute girl waiting for me at home?" I tried. Lucy squirmed a little and looked up at me. She was smiling, happy, but I knew that what I''d suggested would never fly. She was too Lucy to just sit back and be happy. She was going to try to take over the world, and she was going to make a bit of a mess of it. I hoped I was still around to catch her. "So, what''s all this about the gangs?" she asked. "What''s all that about ''volunteering'' stuff?" I asked in return. Lucy''s grin turned mean. "Fine, fine, I''ll go first," she said. Her hand snuck out behind me and she started playing with her favourite stress ball. "So, there''s a lot of richy-rich types that go to Cial. You''ve seen them around. They''re like, one in twenty of the students here, because there aren''t that many one-percenters out there. Anyway, they all love to think that they''re proper altruists." "Altruists? Like, good people?" "Yeah. Wild, right? They live in penthouses and want to think that they''re good people." "Isn''t our house a penthouse?" "Anyway," Lucy continued, ignoring that entirely. "Point is, they do ''volunteering'' work, and that usually means throwing some money at a pet problem and seeing it paved over. Usually around their part of the city, or their floors in the megabuilding. It''s whatever. But they also like to be seen being good. Hence, awards and certificates." "Okay," I said. "So they pat themselves on the back?" "Pretty much! With fancy awards and meaningless bits of paper. There''s usually a ceremony where all of their assistants or kids go to rub elbows, not the actual rich people, they''re busy, and then they can be happy with themselves." I nodded along. "Lots of money in those galas, so I''m trying to convince them that the Kittens are a wise investment by making the group look all legitimate and like a community service thing, the kind they''d like around their hoity-toity penthouses." "Say hoity-toity again," I said. Lucy stuck her tongue out at me instead. "So, gangs?" "Ah, right. It''s more of a tomorrow problem, but I might have to keep an eye on them before they get out of hand. We''re thinking of doing a conclave thing, get all the big names in place and remind them that while they''re all tough and important and getting stronger, we can still fuck them up." Lucy shook her head. "You need more carrots with your sticks, Cat." "You can bring a horse to water, but I don''t think the water here is drinkable, so it''s kind of pointless." "I''ll see if I can''t help," Lucy said. There was that twinkle in her eye again. "I think the gangs would be much more cooperative under more... respectable leadership, right?" "You''re having ideas again," I warned. "That might be a bad idea." "You never know until you try!" "Actually, I think I have a good idea, from past experience and all." Lucy sniffed. "Don''t be a stick in the mud." "I thought it was a carrot?" *** Chapter Thirty-Nine - Trash Panda Woes Chapter Thirty-Nine - Trash Panda Woes "Va...cation? Oh! You mean like taking time off of work to get more work done? Yeah, I do that!" --CrowClaymore, during a 2025 Q&A *** The next day came, and I found myself back at CIAL again, this time back in uniform for another set of classes. It went pretty well. Professor Rogers knew his shit, and this time Nya stayed... actually, I didn''t know where she went, but she didn''t show up at my class to beat the shit out of the lot of us. I noticed that a couple of the students had new cyberware. There were often little cats embossed into the metal, so it wasn''t hard to guess where that had come from. Hadn''t Nya promised to replace any cyberware she broke? I supposed she''d kept to that promise. Judging by the way the guys with new ware were rolling back sleeves and showing off the new gear, they were pleased about it, and I could get why. They had samurai-tier shit now. Probably nothing too special, in the grand scheme of things, but it was a damned sight better than what most people got, probably comparable to the very highest end corporate stuff. In any case, I was a smidge distracted through the lesson, but the exercise bit felt kind of nice. I was getting used to working out a bit more. Given another six months, I was sure I could be rocking a six pack, which would be kinda badass. When class ended, I headed out, followed by a trail of gawkers and weirdos, including Olivia who really couldn''t get a clue. I met Lucy by her class, then escorted her to the Bastion. "So, what''s the plan for today?" Lucy asked. She was carrying a small plate with plastic-wrap over it that smelled dangerously tempting. "Uh, I guess I''ll continue to do that chore Deus Ex gave me. Might as well, right? That means hitting up Gros Baton next." "Oh, Rac''s little crush?" Lucy asked as she sat down. "Rac has a crush on him?" I asked. Lucy grinned. "She complains about him, and spends time around him, and they seem to bitch at each other a lot." "I thought he mostly lived way to the north of the city?" I asked. I was earmarking a solid half-hour to flying to... whatever the name of that small town he was from was. Saint something or other. "He moved in to New Montreal," Lucy said. "At least, I think? You''ll have to ask Rac, I doubt she''s flying out all the way to wherever." "Makes sense," I said. "I''ll fling her a text, see what she has to say." Once I had us airborne and the auto-pilot engaged towards home, I opened a texting app on my augs and found Rac''s name. Cat: Hey, Rac Cat: Got a minute? Cat: I need to check up on all the local samurai, because some little shit can''t handle responsibility. Rac: Hi? I''m free. Rac: I''m not a samurai tho? Cat: And next on the list is Gros Baton. Heard you were hanging out with him a bunch. Rac: Oh, yeah. I''m helping him. I felt my eyebrows rise at that. Helping him? With what, exactly? Or was that just a euphemism? I decided not to think about it too hard. Cat: Cool. You free in 20? Rac: yeah, I can be Good enough. I took over piloting controls for the last little bit, guiding the Bastion into the parking garage without scraping any paint, then settled it down nice and easy. "I guess I''ll be switching uniforms," I said. "Really?" Lucy asked. "I think the schoolgirl look kind of fits you, though I wouldn''t mind seeing you in a skirt." "Eh," I said. I''d worn skirts before, obviously, but they always left me feeling kind of exposed, especially when they were as short as the skirts Lucy preferred. She had nicer legs than me, though, so they suited her better. I gave Lucy a goodbye kiss, then headed up to our room to get changed, passing Nya by in the living room as I went. She was lounging on the couch, completely knocked out under... a standing sunlamp? That hadn''t been there before. A few of the kittens gestured for me to be quiet as I passed, fingers over their lips. Had Nya told them not to make any noise or something? I sure as shit couldn''t get them to be quiet without mortal threats, yet here she was napping while they kept their little mouths shut. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. I got changed, slipping into a skinsuit, then stepping into some heavier armour. I didn''t know what Gros Baton was up to, but I got this tingly feeling that it wasn''t anything good. It''s why I returned to the Bastion in a hurry, which is where I found Rac waiting for me. She looked decent enough, in grease-stained overalls with an armoured jacket on top. She had a piece tucked in under her arm and a knife at the small of her back, hair tucked into a baseball cap with little ear-covering flaps. "Yo," she said. "Hey," I replied. It was weird, but Rac looked... halfway competent, dressed as she was. "You needed me for something? Something about Gros Baton?" "Yeah," I said. "I figured there was a decent chance you''d know where he is." Rac made a face at that. "Yeah, he figured you''d ask eventually. I was thinking it would take longer than this, though." Now I was really worried. "Right, so, where is he, exactly?" I asked. Rac blinked. "You don''t know?" "No, but I bet you do," I said. She stared at me for a while, and I could tell she was doing some mental calculus. I don''t know what the math looked like, but I could tell the result fell into my favour when she sighed. "Fine. He''s at this old mega building on the outskirts of New Montreal." "New Meowntreal!" I jumped a little, but Rac jumped a lot. Nya was standing nearby, looking properly smug. "Nya thought of the name, and that''s what you should rename the city. Tell all the ronin here to be cat-themed too. Then we can have a full orchestra instead of a band!" "A band?" Rac asked. Why did she fixate on that? "There''s no band," I told her. "And we''re not renaming the city just to fit a stupid pun." "Nya thinks that it''s a very smart pun, actually." Nya stepped over, then stretched. "Where are we going?" "To see a young Samurai called Gros Baton," I said. "He''s a little French-speaking twerp, about this high. Actually, he''s an alright sort." "Nya likes working with new Samurai, it''s easier to guide them towards a proper cat-like future." "Has that ever worked?" I asked. "... Nyot yet?" "I can see that," I said. "So, Rac, what''s he doing there that he didn''t want me to notice?" Rac worked her jaw, then crossed her arms. "If I tell, do you promise you won''t tell him what I told you?" "I can''t promise that, I can''t even remember what I had for breakfast." Rac stared, then let her arms fine. "Baton found this building a few days ago? Like, four, five days back? Well, it wasn''t just him. That Hedgehog guy too. Anyway, it''s a mega building like, six blocks over from here. Um... that one." She turned and pointed out of the still-open garage door. I followed her pointing finger towards... well, there were a lot of mega buildings around, so I didn''t know exactly which one she was pointing to. "It entered lockdown at the start of the incursion, and the lockdown never went down. Gros Baton and Hedgehog are clearing it out, floor by floor." "Of antithesis?" I asked. "What about survivors?" "It''s been three weeks since that incursion. Not the global one, the other one before that." "Oh, shit," I said. So a building locked up for almost a month.. Yeah, there might be survivors in there, but it was damned unlikely. "It''s filled with aliens. Not a lot of them, though. Just enough that you can''t exactly send normal people in to live there." The clean-up expenses for something like that would be insane. But for a new samurai, it was basically a free points buffet. I could see someone like Hedgehog wanting to keep that to himself, actually. Gros Baton struck me as the sharing sort. "And you''ve been visiting him there?" "He''s an idiot," Rac said. "Barely remembers to eat." "Uh-huh," I said. "Well... I guess there''s no harm in checking in on him. We''re pretty close, so if something goes wrong, we''d be the first to respond, which is a good reason to know what the layout looks like too." "I told him as much, yeah," Rac said. "But he wanted to keep things quiet. Come on, I''ll show you his ''camp.''" *** Chapter Forty - Trash Panda Crush Chapter Forty - Trash Panda Crush "It just... happens. One day you wake up, you back hurts, your knees are beefing, your kidneys feel like they rage-quit, and you you''re pulling more weird pains than a gacha player pulls PNGs. You look at the calendar, realize that you missed a birthday a while ago, and to your horror you realize that you''re twenty-five years old. Game over, man. You''re past your prime. From there, it''s all downhill. Everything after that is a speedrun to the grave. If it wasn''t for the team at Want-Not Inc, I might have unalived myself, for real! --Want-Not Inc advertisement campaign for New You artificial youthening program, 2038 *** When Rac said ''I''ll show you his camp'' I kind of expected to follow her there, but we didn''t even leave the parking garage before she turned to me and rather sheepishly asked if I could give her a ride there. To be fair, she didn''t have her own hovercar, and I suspected she was getting to Gros Baton''s ''camp'' by means of public transportation. We could do better than that. Rac and Nya got into the Bastion, but not before Rac went and grabbed a gun. That big one that looked like an LMG. The same thing she''d been carrying to do merc-work, which had me a little nervous. "So, where exactly are we headed to?" I asked. "Just any parking garage?" Rac shook her head while taking a moment to glance through the interior of the Bastion. I think it was her first time inside the ship, actually. "No. Most of the floors aren''t cleared. Baton started near the top. There''s a bridge from floor sixty-five over to the next building over. That one was never involved in the incursion, so it''s safe. That''s how I get in. The floors above that are all cleared out." "How many?" I asked. "Total? I think there''s seventy-five floors above the plate. I don''t know how many underneath." "Crap," I said. "And how deep has Gros Baton and Hedgehog cleared?" Rac shrugged. "I think down to the fifties or so? They''re doing a few floors a day. Leaving turrets and drones to keep an eye on things." "Great," I said. So only fifty-ish floors of a mega building that needed clearing, right smack in the middle of the city. Or like, adjacent to the middle of the city, kinda. Just a few blocks over, in any case. We took off in the Bastion, and it was only a couple of minutes before I was circling Mega Building 501. It was one of those nouveau-Brutalist style buildings. That meant that it was basically just a giant black brick, sticking out amongst the other megabuildings in the area. There was plenty of room to fly around it though, so I did a couple of times, once near the top, to find the entrance to one of the upper-floor parking areas for hover vehicles, then again lower down while scanning the building for trouble. I was kind of expecting... I don''t know, giant roots or vines or something to be sticking out of it, but there wasn''t anything like that. The building had no windows, though there were some slits for ventilation, a lot of them marked by long streaks of grime that stuck to the side of the building below them. It looked... about as maintained as any other mega building around. "Alright," I said as I moved us back up. We came to a slow stop before the entrance to a parking garage that had a 65 stenciled on it. No guess as to which floor it was on. There should have been sensors that noticed the Bastion approaching to open the gates, but nothing happened as I came closer. Frowning, I tried to ping the doors through my augs, and only got gibberish as a reply. "Nya''s got it," Nya said from behind me. She leaned forwards a bit, one hand grabbing onto a handhold near the cockpit''s ceiling. A moment later the door clunked, then started to slide open. "Thanks," I said. "What was up with that?" "Someone''s AI got creative with the door," Nya said. "To lock it up tight-tight, nya! But Nya''s used to getting in places she''s not supposed to, and has all the hacker tools!" I nodded, then started to push in. The garage had cars in it, but also a thick layer of dust that covered just about everything and which washed out as the Bastion moved in. The lighting inside was off, except for some red emergency exit lights and shelter direction illumination by the exits. Not a good sign. I brought the ship down, set it on stand-by mode, then got up. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Nya slipped out of the room first, but Rac lingered for a moment. "Is she really a samurai?" Rac asked in a low whisper. "Nya heard that!" Nya shouted back. "With her cool samurai cat ears!" "She is," I confirmed. "Didn''t the old cat lady act give it away?" "I guess," Rac said. "I... will you grow out of the cat thing?" "Hey, I never grew into it," I said. "That was pushed on me against my will." Nya was at the entrance, arms crossed, tail twitching. "What do you mean, old?" she asked. "You, young one, tell Stray Cat that Nya isn''t old!" "I mean...": Rac hesitated. "How old are you?" "Nya is a youthful thirty-nine!" "That''s twenty-one years older than me," I said. "Twenty-three older than me," Rac said. "Or twenty-four, maybe?" Nya stumbled back with a ''hnnrg'' and a hand pressed over her heart. "Nya is... an old cat lady. No! How did this happen? Nya was so cute and youthful just yesterday!" "Right, so, where''s Baton''s camp thing?" I asked. "This way," Rac said as she walked past Nya, ignoring the old lady''s theatrics with practiced ease. Rac might have been in this part of the building before, or at least, she might have a map of it on her augs, because she led us straight to the exit and didn''t even hesitate before opening the door up manually by means of a half-hidden handle that needed to be folded out of the door. I supposed it was meant to open automatically, but without power, it defaulted to requiring a bit more of a physical touch. The corridors up here were wide, and dark as balls. I had decent low-light vision on my cybernetic eye, and I imagined that Nya had better with hers. Rac resorted to pulling out a flashlight with one of those blindingly bright LED bulbs on the end, which... did the trick, really. "The place was mostly evacuated the day after the incursion started," Rac said. "Mostly?" I asked. "Top floors first," Rac said. "That''s where all the rich sorts were. There were two big corps in this building. Uh, a weapon''s R&D place, and another called Avenir... Bioworks, I think." "That''s never a good sign," Nya said. "Bio-anything is bad." I shrugged. "Could be an innocent pharmaceutical mega corp," I said. Then I met her gaze and chuckled darkly. Yeah, right. "Anyway, they had c-suite people up here, their families, a bunch of nice stuff," Rac said. "That got moved out of here pretty quickly." She turned the light towards a pair of trolleys that looked abandoned, they had a few pieces of luggage on them still. The effort from the people doing the evacuation? If they were pulling luggage out, then it couldn''t be too bad. "What about below?" I asked. Rac winced. "Not so good. Gros Baton can tell you more, though. Elevator''s here." She moved us into an atrium space of sorts. The nice kind, with a lot of benches, some faux-trees, and large monitors on the walls. There was even a massive aquarium with... a lot of dead fish in it, next to a little hair stylist boutique place. "The elevators work?" I asked. "Some of them," Rac said. "Gros Baton made some jokes about working on our glutes by taking the stairs every day. Then when I kicked his shins about it and had him run up five floors because I ''forgot'' something, he got the elevators working again." I snorted. Okay, that was cute. I wasn''t gonna tell her, though. "So they do work," I said. I had some interesting memories about elevators. "Yeah. And if they don''t, there''s two samurai that can probably rub their brain cells together and figure something out, right?" she asked. "You used to respect samurai," I said. "I respect some of them still," she said. And I supposed I wasn''t on that shortlist, huh? I reached out to the elevator with my augs, and a moment later it pinged open. We got in, and Rac tapped the button for floor Sixty. It only took a half minute for us to be there, stepping out into another atrium that couldn''t be more different. There were lights all over, wires strung up on mounts jammed into the ceiling, and a dozen deployable turrets fanned out across the space. A generator was rumbling in the corner, probably alien tech since it wasn''t giving off smoke, and there were several tables and workbenches scattered around. Gros Baton was there, a styrofoam bowl in one hand, plastic spoon in the other, and eyes wide like the kitten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "Raton?" he asked. "C''est quoi c?a?" "Yo," I said with a little wave. "This is a welfare check, don''t resist." *** Chapter Forty-One - Hive Five! Chapter Forty-One - Hive Five! "We''ve had a 70% increase in the number of school shootings this year... Which is FANTASTIC news!" --KiddieArmour Co. Internal Memo, 2037 *** Gros Baton slowly lowered his styrofoam bowl, then glanced past me to Rac. "T''avais pas envie de me dire qu''elle allait venir ici?" Rac snorted. "Nah, I thought it being a surprise would be funnier. As... repayment, for that surprise the other day." Gros Baton stared for just a moment before rolling his eyes. "Bitch," he said, but somehow, even with his little accent, it came out as mostly endearing. "Hello, Chat Errant," he said. "Hi! Bonjour, I''m Nya!" Nya said. "Salut," Gros Baton said, even as he backed up from Nya who slinked over and loomed above him. She leaned forwards, and for a moment I thought she might give the boy a peck. Instead, she sniffed at the top of his bowl, then slipped it out of his grasp. "''Ey! That''s my poutine!" "Oh! Nya heard of this," she said. She raised a hand, plucked a pair of (very obviously) cat-themed chopsticks out of the air, and then dug in. "Hmm... this tastes like... potatoes and heart problems." "Potatoes are a vegetable," Gros Baton said. "Keep telling yourself that," I said before taking a look at the camp again. It was a pretty nice set-up. Very... manish, though. Several tables had been dropped to their sides, with like, office supplies stacked up on the far side to make for quick barricades. In a few other spots, there were more purpose-built barricades. These were made from metal plates that hooked into the ground and rose up to about my lower waist. A matching plate always hung from the ceiling, leaving a slit to see out of. There were a few turrets around. Little deployable box turrets, with what looked like drum-fed assault-rifles held in gimbal arms with a sensor suit slapped onto the side. They looked well-engineered, so probably Protector-tech or very high end corporate stuff. Actually, no logos, so definitely Protector-bought stuff. The barricades had walls of spines on the outside, like the ass-end of a porcupine, so no guess who bought those. "Is Hedgehog around?" I asked before sidling over to a couch that looked like it had been stolen out of like, a bank lobby or something. It wasn''t comfortable. "Ouien, he''s a few floors down," Grow Baton said. "Are you ''ere to steal all our kills?" "Nah," I said. "Just doing the rounds, checking in on everyone," I said. "Do you know Deus Ex?" I asked. "From the cartoon?" he asked. I stared at him. "Huh?" "He means that one samurai TV show, for kids," Rac said. "The one with a bunch of anime-versions of popular samurai. Which he should know are mostly workers. You can''t go pointing at them and telling them that you know them from a fucking cartoon, you moron." "Tabarnak, laisse faire. Pis, ce Deus Ex, what does she want with me?" "Nothing," I said. "Well, not quite. Did you know that there are samurai in charge of different cities?" "Yup!" Nya said. She extended the empty bowl to Gros Baton and he stared at it for a moment, rolled his eyes again, then muttered something in French. A moment later there were four more bowls on a little tray decorated in.. sticks? "Oh! Good boy!" "Ah, thanks," Gros Baton said past a blush. I shook my head, but took the bowl that was offered to me. I wasn''t gonna let Lucy know, but this shit hit different. "Thanks," I said. "So, you''ve found a sort of goldmine in here, huh?" "Something like that," Gros Baton said. "''Edge''og and I''s AI think that there''s an ''ive in the bottom floors." "In the basement levels?" I asked, sitting up a smidge. If a hive was down there, then it was basically loose in the city. That meant access to a lot of major arteries, and more importantly, a million minor ones. Water and electricity was piped through the sublevels of most mega buildings, and that shit lead everywhere. "Nah," Gros Baton said with a shake of his head. "We checked. We even left some sensors and things down there, in case. And we sealed off the first floor after clearing it out, so if the aliens want to make it to the city, they need to break down through the first floor." Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. "Okay," I said. "So, they''re pinched between floor one and here?" "Yeah," he said. "We think it''s just a small hive. It, uh, ran out of food." I blinked at that. "It''s starving? Is that even possible?" "Nya''s seen it happen," Nya said. "Not often though. If there''s heat, then it can eat that, and keep growing, but the aliens need to eat something. They can''t make mass out of nothing!" "Alright," I said. "So... what, there''s just not much food in this building?" "No farms," Gros Baton said. "I think it was made before indoor farming was big. And... uh... there was just the people and maybe some food in storage to eat." "Ah," I said. "Kinda fucked up, right?" Rac asked. "Every alien in this building is at least part people." "That is kinda fucked up," I agreed. Thankfully, I didn''t get queasy easy, and this poutine stuff was heavy eating besides. Gros Baton finished chewing on a bite, swallowed, then continued. "C?a va bien jusqu''a? maintenant. We''ve been trying to clear the building floor by floor. It''s slow work." "I think there are companies that do that," I said. "Yeah, but I want the points, and ''Edgehog and I are faster." "Your English has improved," I noted. "And you haven''t learned French yet," he shot back, which... ouch, but not wrong. I frowned, and was about to tell him to keep it up, but something was niggling at me, a tickle in the back of my brain. This felt about as safe a situation to fight the Antithesis as one could manage. They''d be looking around floor by floor, taking out... "What kind have you run into, so far?" I asked. "Just lower models," he said. "Some three in the stairs, ones... all over, really. They fly up the elevator shafts. We got ambushed by some model fours." "The tentacle-y ones," Rac said with a shudder. I nodded along. So, nothing that really stood out. "And there''s lot of model sevens in the walls and such," he said, which had me sitting up a little. "They''re hard to find, but we have tools to spot them, and then we just blow the walls up. There''s hair vents all over." "Air vents," Rac corrected. "Yeah, that." I turned to Nya. "Hey, old-timer," I said, which caused a fun little shudder to run through the old cat. "What do you think of all this?" Nya finished being dramatic, then tilted her head in thought. "Nya thinks... that the little boy is underestimating the enemy a lot." "Yeah," I said. "The hive might be small, but you can''t really enclose one of those, can you? And while you can probably stop giving it fresh food, I bet it''ll find something." "There''s power in the building," Nya said. "And heat. It''ll keep improving itself, even if it means eating itself." "What do you mean?" Gros Baton said. "Nya means that you''re going to make it to the hive, and then it won''t be bonjour, it''ll be... bye bye, nya." Gros Baton frowned. "We could move faster." "How long have you been farming this thing?" I asked. "It''ll be ready for you." I was thinking a big ambush or something, but Nya nodded and added her own two cents. She had a couple of decades on me, and a lot more time as a samurai to draw from. I was inclined to trust her opinion. "If you''ve been using the same trick on every floor, then it might figure out how to counter you. You''ve been exploding the model sevens? The little brain worms?" "Yeah," Gros Baton said. "Then you might do that again, only to find that they''re ready to explode you back. Humans think in rooms and floors. Nya, being superior, knows that you can''t trust this." She tapped a foot on the floor below us. "What''s that mean?" Rac asked. "Nya means that you see a floor, and you think ''I can stand on that'' but the Antithesis, they see it as just a thing that they can''t eat yet, which means it''s an obstacle. They aren''t afraid to go up and through the floor!" She made a clamping gesture with her hands, like a trap closing. "They might bring the ceiling down too," I said. "Or collapse the entire building." "The supports are huge," Gros Baton said. "And they''ve had... what, a week and a bit to chew through them?" I asked. Gros Baton paused, then swallowed. "Ah, ca?lisse," he swore. *** Chapter Forty-Two - Loading, Please Wait Chapter Forty-Two - Loading, Please Wait "The average home is meant to last thirty years from time of construction. That is, what the architects and engineers who plan the house account for. A mega structure, such as a modern arcology or mega building, is meant to last thirty years as well. That''s based off of the materials used and their predicted time of degradation. Some of the oldest mega buildings are nearing that thirty year mark." --Except from the CIAL Architecture 201 textbook, 2056 edition. *** "I mean, that was conjecture," I said. "For all we know, this building will be standing here this time next year." "You know, I spent most of my life low-key kind of afraid that all of the megabuildings above me, or at least the supporting plate, would just collapse one day," Rac said. "Like, once, about four years back, there was a section of road on the surface that cracked and fell down. It was just automated trucks, but they were heavy, and when it came down, it crushed like, three levels beneath." "That sounds kinda fucked up," I said. "Yeah, I remember going out the next day and there was just... a large hole into the sky in the plate, and rain was coming down, and there was a whole layer of the undercity on the ground below," Rac said. Right, she''d lived most of her life beneath the city, but above the actual ground, because... well, no one lived on the actual ground. "I mean, there''s an easy solution to this," I said. "Hey, Myalis, what are the chances that this building falls down like, today?" Hmm, I''ll have to use some suppositions for that, and any number I give you would be a wide-ranging statistic. "That''s fine," I said. I had the other''s attention now. Then I''d say that chances are between 13.4% and 13.6%. "That''s not a wide range at all." I said. It''s large enough to fly a sun through it. I had no idea what that meant at all. "Okay. Did you all hear that?" "Nya''s AI related it to her," Nya said. "Ouein," Gros Baton said. "No. You were just talking to yourself again," Rac said. "Oh right. Well, Myalis says there''s a thirteen-ish percent chance that the building collapses." Rac''s eyebrows climbed up at that. "Thirteen-ish?" she asked. "I''m paraphrasing," I said. "Thirteen percent isn''t that bad, but it''s not great." "It goes up," Gros Baton said. "Tabarnak. My AI said it goes up a couple of percent every day, or it''s projected to. Anyway, that means things are bad." "But we have time," I said. Nya cleared her throat. "Nya thinks that there''s a eighty-seven percent-ish chance that we have time." Right, that was a fair point. "Okay, so let''s just... get a move on? You guys haven''t destroyed the hive yet?" "Non," Gros Baton said. "We''ve been working down floor-by-floor, like I said. We cleared the first floor, which had some ''ive things in it. Roots and such, but not the actual ''ive. ''Edge''og said it was probably on floor three to five." I nodded. "Well, you might want to call him up. I don''t want to go stealing all of your points, but I''m supposed to make sure you''re both alright, and that means no buildings collapsing on your pretty little heads." "At least you think my ''ead is pretty," Gros Baton said with a cheeky grin and a wink. Rac made a sound of disgust. "Idiot," she accused. "Don''t flirt with her, she''s a stray." "What about the other cat-lady?" he asked. "Old enough to bhmmhmm-" Rac started, but was cut off when Nya placed a hand... paw, over her mouth and muffled whatever she had to say. "Nya is a little bit too old for you. A little." She pinched her fingers together. "Nya is still young and spry and hot. But you shouldn''t think about Nya like that because you''re a little too young for that kind of thing." Gros Baton looked from Nya to me, as if asking me with his eyes if I knew what to say to that. I just shook my head. "Okay, dabors. I''ll call ''edge''og and let ''im know that we''re here. You''re going to lead the charge down?" "Nah. Like I said, I''m not here for your points. If you guys want to share, that''s cool. I''ve got the evening free enough to help. But as long as you two knock the hive out this evening, I''m happy. Just don''t let it fester. And if you want to do each floor after that to find stranglers, then I''ll leave you two to it." If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Gros Baton shook his head after thinking on it for a second. "Nah. I''m new, I don''t need a million points. I''ve made a few, and I can get upgrades to my stuff already. I don''t need to be greedy and stupid. Don''t know if ''Edge''og will agree, though." "You don''t think so?" I asked. "Man ''as something to prove," he replied before setting down his bowl of poutine. "You know ''ow most samurai are a bit, uh, crazy?" "Yeah," I said. "A bit?" Rac asked. "Nyo?" Nya said. Gros Baton shrugged. "''E ''as a thing about proving ''imself, I think. What do they call it... a chick on his shoulder?" "Chip," Rac corrected. "And I''m pretty sure that''s not the expression you''re looking for, but I get the point. I''ve talked to him a couple of times when I came over. He''s polite, but a bit rude, too?" "Yeah, he''s kind of cold, but really formal about it. I think he''s ex-military, or ex-PMC, which is almost the same thing. He was good to have around during the whole Phobos thing. I thought he and Tankette might have had a little something going on. There was chemistry there." "Your brain is too romance-coded," Rac said. "What even does that mean?" I asked. "Anyway," Gros Baton said with a smack of his hands on his knees. "I sent ''im a message. He should be up soon." I decided that we might as well just sit here and wait. It was that or go seek him out and... "Wait, where is he, anyway?" "Few floors down," Gros Baton said. "Did you want to go meet him instead?" "Eh, I guess that wouldn''t hurt. Unless it puts pressure on him? Like I said, if you two want to handle this on your own, then I won''t interfere, it''s just that it''s usually best to tackle hives quickly instead of waiting them out." "Yeah, I understand," Gros Baton said. "''Onestly, I wouldn''t mind moving on from ''ere too. The city stinks." "You get used to it," Rac said. "You could get used to the nice, fresh air in the country side too," he said. "And the sunlight. You''d look good with a tan." "And get skin cancer? No thanks. I saw the sun once and that was enough for me," Rac shot back. "Besides, your podunk little town is like, thirty minutes from the city, tops. Air can''t be that fresh." "Podunk?" he repeated, his accent making the word sound funny. "It means shitty," Rac replied. I glanced at Nya and our eyes met. She smiled, but I just resisted the urge to roll my eyes and gestured to the elevator. "So, going down, good idea or nah?" Just then, the elevator opened and out came Hedgehog. His kit had changed a little... or a lot, but it was still very recognizably... him. Obviously. The dude was wearing form-fitted armour, with panels over his vitals and what looked like some sort of dark-grey weave material over his limbs. The usual bits were armoured too, crotch, knees, elbows, the back of his hands. He might have passed for a well-off PMC, or some corpo spec-ops, only he was wearing a Hedgehog-style hedgehog cloak. His helmeted face was covered by a deep hood, and the cloak trailed behind him like a heavy cape. It was covered in thousands of narrow, pointy barbs. There were more on the bottoms of his vambraces and it looked like the back of his helmet swept into even more. Lots of spikes going on, in fact. "Heya!" I said. "Nya-hello!" Hedgehog paused a step out of the elevator, grip tightening around the handle of a little assault rifle, then he dropped it and it dangled by his side from a sling. "Stray Cat," he said. "Rac... and an unfamiliar samurai?" "Nya is nya!" Nya said. "Pleasure," he replied. "To what do we owe the visit?" "Wellness check," I said. "You do... wellness checks?" "I have a metaphorical gun to my head," I said. "It''s probably more of a laser cannon, actually? Trust me, I''d rather be at home wearing way less, tinkering on my toys or... doing things. But Deus Ex told me to check up on all the locals. Oh, and Crackshot said to say hi, too." "I see," he replied. "I''m well enough. I believe Gros Baton is as well. We''ve been productive." "Yeah, I see that," I said. "So... about that." I couldn''t see his face, but I imagined that his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Yes?" he asked. Oh boy, this was gonna be fun to explain. *** Chapter Forty-Three – Right in Front of my OSHA Handbook? Chapter Forty-Three - Right in Front of my OSHA Handbook? "Oh, so you don''t like not having power? Well golly gee fuck, maybe you shouldn''t have stopped investing in infrastructure then!" --President of United Grid Power, 2039 *** "Okay, so," I said, mostly to fill time as I got my thoughts in order. "You know how you and the kid have been clearing the building out floor-by-floor, farming points, killing aliens and all that?" "Yes," Hedgehog said. "Right, well, that''s cool and all, but we think that there''s a good chance that the aliens are more clever than we think and that they''ll mess you up if you continue doing as you have. They''re kinda good at that, and they don''t usually care about, uh, structural damage, or collapsing buildings onto their own heads." Hedgehog reached up, tugged his hood back, then peeled the front of his helmet off and up, letting it rest above his head thanks to a clever pair of little hinges. "I see. Yes, that does seem to fit within the Antithesis modus operandi. We might have been lax in our safety procedures." I blinked. "You''re okay with that?" "It''ll mean changing our own method of operation. We should push harder, hit the main body of the hive, clear it out, then continue our exploration and extermination mission." "Oh, uh, yeah, that''s exactly right," I said. "If you want help, I''m here. I guess Nya too. She''s a pretty old samurai. But like, if you wanna do it on your own, that''s cool too. No pressure. Just reach out if you think you need it." "Of course," he said. I didn''t expect things to be resolved so easily. Hedgehog moved and talked and acted like he had a reinforced rod up his backside, but... yeah. "I guess that doing this is how it''s supposed to be done?" I asked. "I like to do things by the book," Hedgehog said. "Have you ever even read a book?" Rac asked me. I flashed her my middle finger. "Don''t get snooty with me, brat, I know where you live." "On the streets?" Rac asked with a cocksure little grin. I saw her eye flick over to Gros Baton though. Oh yeah, she wanted his approval for her silly joke. Girl had a crush. Was it that he was a samurai? Or was it his charmingly dismissive attitude? Or did Rac just have a thing for boys with accents? If so, she could have picked a better accent than Quebecois. I was halfway tempted to stick my nose in that, but... well, Gros Baton was a good kid, probably. I figured if he was chosen as a Samurai, then he wasn''t half bad, and what I knew of him supported that. "Alright, uh, well, thanks for not being an asshole about it," I said. "Did you expect me to?" Hedgehog asked. "No?" I tried. "Anyway! It''s not something that''s a huge hurry, right? You guys can probably take a day or so to reach the hive and mess it up without worrying too much." "I don''t know," Gros Baton said. "Thirteen percent is a lot. What''s your AI gotta say if we go down, does it drop or go up?" I can answer that. If they descend more aggressively, the percentage drops by two point one eight percent to four point six percent depending on the level of aggression, and the overall rate of increase, as in, increase over the next twenty-four to seventy-two hours, decreases. "Huh. Okay, Myalis says that if you go down nowish, it drops by two to four ish percent, depending on how hard you hit them." If you leave the premises, the chances of full structural collapse decreases by six percent. I blinked. "Wait, what?" Catherine... bombs are not good for structural integrity. And there''s a high chance that several of your plans involve using warmechs within a confined space. I mean, yes, I was thinking on how to bring my new mech down and into the elevator shaft, but that didn''t mean I was gonna ... my plan B was to insert it tactically through an exterior wall. Exterior walls weren''t load-bearing, right? It would have been fine. "What''s wrong, nya?" Nya asked. "Hmm? Oh, nothing, Myalis was just saying something. It''s not important. Anyway!" I clapped my hands. "I think that''s it for me and Nya? I''ll leave you boys to it?" "You don''t want to stay to reap a share of the rewards?" Hedgehog asked. "I mean, more points is nice, but I think I can find my own source of aliens to stomp if I look hard enough, and at the moment, more wouldn''t help anything? I''m basically just saving up for a few big toys at this point. Best to let you two, uh... not to sound rude, but play catch-up." "I appreciate it," Hedgehog said with a nod. "Seeing as we have a bit of time, I think I''ll take a few hours to eat, shower, and rest. Gros Baton, would you be willing to dive down at 2100 hours?" "Ouien, j''vais e?tre pret," Gros Baton said. "Tu reste?" That last was aimed at Rac. The girl shrugged. "I guess I could stay. Not for too long, I''ve got other shit to do." "Cool," he said. "Cool," she replied. I looked at Nya, and for a moment, there was understanding between us. "Okay, so, you have fun, Hedgehog," I said. "See ya!" "Thanks," he replied rather dryly. "I''ll keep an eye on the ki--I mean, on these two. Make sure they take their Seven-proof pills and don''t wander into a trap." "Thanks man, I appreciate it. Rac, if you need a ride or anything, lemme know." I resisted the urge to embarrass her by dropping into a spiel about safe sex or something, but it was a near thing. As the somewhat technical parent figure to a lot of brats, I reserved the right to humiliate them at my leisure. With a nod to the elevator, and a few more goodbyes, Nya and I headed out. The ride up was quiet... for about thirty seconds before Nya opened her mouth. "They''re cute, nya!" "Urgh. I don''t know what it is that''s in the water these days, but it looks like I keep running into disgusting romantic shit at every turn. First Gom and Franny, now this." "Nya knows what you mean. It''s the post-disaster, ah... I think the English word is ''horny.''" "The what?" I asked. Nya grinned. "There was a big danger, and lots of people thought they were going to die. Now they want to make lots of babies. It''s stupid human brain stuff." That... made some sort of sense. I sure felt a certain way after a long day of fighting and nearly dying, and spending extra time with Lucy doing... destressing activities helped a lot. With New Montreal hit by an incursion then the global one, I could see how that would escalate. "Great," I said before rubbing my eyes. "Baby fever. It''ll combine fantastically with all the PTSD going around." "It''s human, nya," Nya said. "Which is why it''s better to be a superior cat." The elevator dinged before I had to figure out a way to respond to that. I was pretty sure cats had baby fever too, and... maybe could get PTSD? I wasn''t sure about that second one, and I was also not sure I wanted to find out. The elevator doors slid open, letting in some musky, warm air. The lighting was somehow worse now than before, some of the emergency lights having gone off. Damn, the building really was falling apart. I stepped out and stretched my arms. "You know, the one good thing is that I got to meet both Gros Baton and Hedgehog in one evening. That''ll free up time later." "Are there a lot more little ronin to meet?" Nya asked. "Not that many," I said. "Tankette, and Princess. Knight too, if she counts. She''ll be with Princess, probably." "Knight?" Nya asked. "Uh, Princess'' sister. Big sister. Normal human, like everyone else, but she''s geared up like a samurai and keeps Princess safe." "Princess is a very cute name for a ronin. Is she a teeny-tiny oujou-sama type?" "I don''t know what that means," I said. "Does she laugh like ''oh ho ho ho!" I blinked. "No? I don''t think so? She''s just a kid. Like, sixteen at most? Bit young to be a samurai, honestly. Uh, I had history with her dad, which makes things awkward." "Oh, what kind?" Nya asked. "Shot him on live TV," I said. That actually surprised Nya enough to keep quiet for a few steps. "Nya finds you more and more interesting, Stray Cat!" "Thanks. I aim to be as interesting as possible. Maybe we can visit Tankette first. She''s a mom, so she might be around your age." "Urgh. Mean kitty!" *** A note from RavensDagger Very late chappy. The epigraph is a hint~ Chapter Forty-Four – You Talk Like an Old Lady Chapter Forty-Four - You Talk Like an Old Lady "To: Marcus, COO From: A. Sherpa, Head of Data & Player Analytics Subject: Q3 CRA Metrics Hey Marcus, Just a follow-up. Got the data in from last year''s Q3. Our AI has gone over it all, as well as the programming and stats team. Looks like there''s been a pretty effective 18.7% increase in game-time retention. The new gacha mechanics are working. We''re also seeing a marked increase in player thought time. People that try our new machines keep thinking about them, up to two weeks post-game. I think we might see good numbers in Q1 of this year, even with the incursion! Speaking of which..." --Memo between Velvet Wheel Upper-Management, 2057 *** "So, where are we going now?" Nya asked. I frowned as I considered it. We were back in the Bastion getting buckled into the ship''s cockpit. It was still relatively early. Seven-ish in the evening, actually. I wasn''t hungry, and I wasn''t in a hurry to get anywhere. I had classes in the morning, but like... I wasn''t going to sleep for a while still, so it felt kind of weird to just go back home right now. Then again, I could go snuggle with Lucy, that was never a waste of time. "Hey, Nya, how long are you going to be around New Montreal for?" I asked. Nya shrugged. "A couple more days? Until the ronin back at Nya''s home start asking that she comes back. They have already, but not in a very serious way. They''ll call Nya when the world is ending or something. Oh! Does Stray Cat want to visit Japan?" "Uh, maybe one day," I said dismissively. So, I had Nya''s... presence for a couple more days, at least. She wasn''t all that bad. Not great or anything, but not that bad. I kinda felt like using the fact that she was here. Being a samurai opened a lot of doors. And the doors it didn''t open, I could usually blow off their hinges. Having a top-tier samurai along? That seemed like it would only make it even easier to get what I want. "Hey, Myalis, where was the last Conclave thing held?" I asked. You have access to the internet. You can look it up yourself. "Yeah, but it''s so much easier to ask you," I said. Nya giggled. "You have a weird relationship with your AI friend," she said. "Nya feels like she''s friends with hers." "What''s your AI called?" I asked. "And are they a massive, sarcastic pain in the ass?" "Nya''s AI is Nya!" Nya said. I... could have guessed that, actually. "Uh-huh," I said before opening a browser. I typed in ''when was the last NM crime conclave'' into the search bar, then tapped enter. The first three hundred results were ads, and after that, it was mostly nonsense. Oh, fine. Seeing you trying to navigate even primitive technology is tortuous. The conclave that you''re seeking took place in the Velvet Wheel casino on the south shore of New Montreal. "Thank you!" I chirped before punching that into the ship''s navigation. It was a fair ways away, on the far southern end of the city. If we had to use normal travel to get there, it would take a few hours to arrive, but flying a straight line across the city cut the time down to just under twenty minutes. We took off, leaving the building with Gros Baton and Hedgehog (and Rac) behind and taking to the stormy skies. It was raining a bit harder than usual, which mostly meant that there were raindrops the size of fists coming down and splattering against the Bastion''s side as we shot across the city. Nya started talking about food. Apparently the local stuff we had here was ass compared to the food back where she was from, though she liked the poutine and complimented Lucy''s cooking, so I didn''t need to see if the Bastion had ejection seats. We made it to the casino with minimal fuss. I wouldn''t admit it to her, but Nya was actually kind of funny sometimes. The Velvet Wheel was a massive facility. Only six or seven floors tall, but it had a large footprint, taking up a chunk of the southern shore. There were several parking facilities around the casino itself, which stood as a sort of glittering, all-gold wheel. The outer sections were all curved around, forming a massive circle with bridges in the centre reaching out towards a central pillar, like spokes on a wheel. The central tower rose up to thirty or so floors above ground level, with a huge sign with the casino''s name on it. I circled the space, aware that the entire time, we were being scanned and pinged by security. A few hover cars took off and trailed after the Bastion after a minute or so. Little armoured cars with roof-mounted turrets and the casino''s name and logo slapped onto the side. There were parking garages nearby, but I settled for bringing the Bastion down by the front of the building. It scoured the ground clean of dust, throwing it up and away as I landed with a thump in front of a valet-parking station just a few metres from the front entrance. "We''re here," I said. "You park like a cat," Nya said. "I don''t think cats are in the habit of parking," I said. "Nya will buy you a kitten. Like, a small kitty cat kitten. It feels weird that you don''t have experience with actual cats." "No thanks," I said. "So, goal here is to touch-base with whoever''s in charge of this place, let them know that we want to, uh, I guess rent out their casino for a big gang meetup next week or so." "Oh, this is going to be fun!" Nya said. "Nya should have brought a big gun. Those always make these kinds of meetings more fun." I snorted, then invited Nya to the back, where I did have a few old guns laying around. That old grenade launcher that I hadn''t used in a while was there, and Nya scooped it up and hugged it close while giggling to herself. I geared up a bit as well, making sure my armour was sitting on me properly. It wasn''t that I didn''t trust this place... but I sure as shit didn''t trust this place. Especially since a glance through the Bastion''s exterior cameras showed that we were quickly being surrounded by security, and they didn''t look like common mall-cops either. The casino''s security was a mix of guys in uniform, but also a lot of dudes in body armour with plate carriers and full-faced helmets. I saw a lot of small SMGs in that crowd. I was pretty sure it wasn''t anything that could harm either of us, but it was concerning that there were this many people armed this well just standing around. This could either be a good sign, that the place was properly secure, or it could be a very bad sign. I opened the side door of the Bastion and stepped up, only for Nya to skip out ahead of me. We were greeted by a straight-faced man in the casino''s security uniform. The whole place had a black and gold aesthetic going on, which was properly fancy, but they weren''t exactly my colours of choice. "Hello, and welcome to the Velvet Wheel casino, New Montreal''s most prestigious gambling and entertainment haven. Might I request that you move your vehicle to one of the designated parking spaces nearby?" Well, he was polite, at least, even if it looked like saying that had taken as much effort as pulling nails. "Sure thing," I said. An aug command to the Bastion later and its doors shut and the ship started to spool up its engines. "I''ll just have it fly circles around the casino," I said. "This is private airspace," he said. "I''m big on sharing," I replied. "So, we''re here to talk to your boss''s boss''s boss." "Triple boss," Nya said. "That''s right. Whoever passes for the big head-boss type here. We need to set up an... event, and figured that this place might be the right one." "You want to speak with Mister Veaux?" the security guy asked. "He accepts appointments, on occasion." "Cool. Is he free right now?" I asked. "I can wait a few minutes." The nicest part about being a samurai was trampling all over bureaucracy and useless time-wasting shit. The guard slowly nodded, then stepped back to make an obvious call. I listened in, and it was mostly him letting someone further up the chain know that we wanted to talk to someone important. The people on the other end weren''t happy about it. I was getting the impression that things were done a certain way here, and that the general attitude was that not respecting the way things were meant to be was very uncommon and extremely taboo. Sucked to suck though. Nya''s shit-eating grin was all I needed to see to know that she didn''t mind kicking down the front door because it would be funny. Eventually, the guard returned. "Mister Veaux is willing to make some time in his busy schedule to meet with you," he said. "If we asked that you disarmed..." "We wouldn''t listen," I finished for him. "I see. In any case, follow me." Well, at least we were getting somewhere. *** A note from RavensDagger Hi! So, I spent all weekened binge-reading Mecanimus'' Changeling. Like, all of it. My eyes hurt from reading too much. I really want to read more, so I decided to bribe Meanimus with this shout-out in exchange for access to his beta chapters. Here''s the link: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/75345/changeling It''s good stuff? There''s a few ideas in that story that I really want to steal. I think it could be fun. It''s an interesting twist on a system apocalypse, and it''s kinda dystopian/cyberpunk, though the focus isn''t exclusively on that vibe.