Stray Cat Strut

Chapter Fifty - Emoscythe

“Things have gone to shit, as expected, but New Montreal’s not doing too bad.

The Corporate State of Ontario’s fucked. Quebec city has started full on drafting, and Manitoba is... actually, nothing’s changed there. It’s 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.

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 gun’s breech.

“Myalis, is this some sort of joke?” I asked.

I find it funny.

“You’re 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 it’s 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. It’s a Vanguard’s vessel. You won’t have to worry about the safety of the passengers, not against lower-tier threats.

That was a relief.

I pulled up the regional map and scanned it while I waited. The wave wasn’t broken. Far from it. It looked like it had met a few pockets of resistance here and there and had flowed around those. On meeting the main defences where the wall was meant to be, the horde couldn’t continue. So instead it was spreading out and back, a few small tendrils sneaking back into the city.

Those would be trouble. They’d probably start looking for survivors and those too slow to evacuate, or they’d set up hives right on the edge of New Montreal. We didn’t need aliens growing right on our doorstep.

I searched for the pin that marked Gomorrah’s position and found it somewhere to the north of me, closer in towards the wall. The area around her was orange and green, with fewer aliens around.

The area I was in was mostly orange too.

I zoomed back out, then took in the city as a whole. The blockage bridging the gap in the wall kept New Montreal safe. The other side of it was entirely green. Orange and red tendrils reached out to that border, but it looked as though they were holding firm.

The city beyond the wall was a mess of oranges with an equal number of green swatches and red ones.

“Is it just me or are they moving slower?” I asked.

It’s likely that the antithesis, or at least those capable of thinking that well, have realized that they don’t have the strength to reach what they consider to be the biggest threat.

“That’s good, right?”

They’ll likely either regroup for a more concerted effort against their threat, or root themselves down and try to outproduce the threat. In all likelihood, the antithesis will try to do both.

I swore under my breath, then refocused on the task at hand. I couldn’t save everyone, or do that much about the larger situation. So I’d do what I could then and there, and let someone smarter than me worry about the bigger picture.

A noise from above had my ears perking up, and I half-turned as a shadow slid overhead and spun around.

A hovercar, a big one.

The hovercraft spun around as it lowered itself towards the road, so I got a good look at it. It was stubby and square, painted in all-black with silver highlights over the many skulls and spikes that decorated it. Landing gear hissed out of the bottom of the craft, even as a few turrets mounted on the ends of its stubby wings turned and blasted a few of the aliens still on the street.

The ship landed with a heavy thump, engines still humming. A door on the side slid open and a figure stepped out, even if they were still a metre off the ground.

Black skirts shifted around the armoured form of a thin girl with pale skin. She blinked and glanced around, her braided twintails slipping off her shoulders as she took in the street. Then her attention locked onto my flak cannon and she just stared, confused, as the cats loaded a new shell.

“Emoscythe,” I said. “Didn’t think you’d be the one to show up,” I said.

She turned and looked right at me. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking. “It’s Emoscythe Mordeath Noir,” she said.

Ah. I was thinking that she’d be a stuck up pain in the ass. I grinned. “Sure thing,” I said. “Is there enough room in there for about twenty or so scared civilians?”

She nodded. “There’s room. I was told that Grasshopper was hurt?”

I detected some actual concern there. “Yeah, she’s injured. Alive and stable, but I’d rather see her on a bed than on the front lines right now. She needs a doctor or two. You know her?”

“Most people don’t deserve the gift they’ve been given,” she drolled. “Grasshopper... might not be one of those people. Even if she’s bizarre.”

She had enough makeup on to black out every window on a skyscraper, I wasn’t sure if she could start casting stones about people’s bizarreness.

“I’ll get Grasshopper and the civvies out,” I said. “Can your ship keep the road cleared?”

“I’ll manage,” she said. She reached back to the ship even as a staircase unfolded itself from the side, leading to the doorway she’d jumped out of. Emoscythe grabbed a pair of long black sticks that I guessed were some sort of weapon.

Good enough. I wasn’t 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. “Transport’s here,” I said. “With Emoscythe along for the ride too.”

“Emoscythe Mordeath Noir is nice,” Grasshopper said. “I’ll be happy to see her. She’s 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 wasn’t 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. “I’m sure you’ll make more friends, Cat,” Grasshopper said. “It’s important to make friends while you’re still young and have a reason to spend time with your peers. It’ll become increasingly difficult to do as you age.”

“I’m 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 she’d 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 didn’t hug her or anything. “I’m glad you came. I think you’ll 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.

***