Stray Cat Strut

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.

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.

“We’re not leaving until we warn the idiots upstairs,” I said.

Gomorrah paused and half-turned to face me. “What?”

"Look, we’ve barely dented this hive. The least we can do is warn the people living here that the hive is still active and that we’re leaving. They think that they’re relatively safe, you know?”

“It’ll take more time than we have,” Gomorrah said. “Laserjack’s request sounded urgent.”

“I don’t care,” I decided. I wasn’t 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. “We’re losing more time arguing. I’m going to park the Fury out front. Once we’re 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 we’d 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 wasn’t expecting to find Charles and Paul and a few others all grouped up in the factory’s 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, you’re getting ready to pack up?” I asked. “That's good, because I’ve got bad news and worse news, and you don’t get to pick the order.”

“No, actually. We’re going to stay. Enough of us want to stay that... we can’t justify abandoning them. In either case, the vote was clear.”

I shook my head. “Well, fuck.”

“The news?” he asked.

“Bad news, the hive’s still down there. We didn’t kill it. Didn’t even reach it, really. Burned out a few aliens in your basement, but my bet is that there’s a lot more where they came from.”

Charles winced. “And the worse news?” he asked. It didn’t feel like he wanted to ask at all.

“We’re leaving,” I said. “Gomorrah and I. New Montreal’s about to get hit, the walls aren’t done, and no one’s ready to take the brunt of it. So we need to go do our thing. You’ll be all alone for a bit. I’ll make sure the ping’s still up, so maybe someone else will pop around. Or maybe Gomorrah and I can swing by once things calm down, but... yeah, I don’t know when that’ll be.”

Charles nodded along. “It’s fine. We’ll manage.”

I looked at him, with his old rig over a sweater, then at the others. A couple of them had bulletproof vests. Ill-fitting things that looked like they were police surplus from three decades ago. Their guns weren’t much better.

“Right,” I said. I heard Gomorrah stepping out of the basement. She didn’t waste any time here and headed outside to get the Fury. “I’m going to leave you some things. Otherwise you’ll all be dead in no time.”

I moved over to the side, to an open space on the floor.

“Myalis? What do we need to keep these idiots safe?”

Ideally, to relocate them. The factory isn’t a defensible location. Too many windows that are accessible to the average Antithesis model, and the area isn’t well hidden. But, if they cannot or will not leave, then automated turrets, some basic guns, and a few thrown explosives could give the locals a fighting chance.

I nodded. I didn’t have much time for shopping though. “Get me five of those turrets, the laser ones with the solar panels. No, make it eight.” They’d be able to place them around the factory, and create a kill-zone. “And... Hummingbirds. Those little flechette guns that auto-target aliens. I don’t trust these guys with proper guns. Get me some resonators too. I don’t know... a dozen? No, make it two. If they’re smart they can create chokepoints and fuck the aliens up when they slip into them.”

Understood. For one additional point, I can provide a technical manual. A simple one.

“That’s not a terrible idea,” I said.

I have been known to have non-terrible ideas on occasion.

Myalis got me everything I asked for in a set of big plastic boxes. They appeared with satisfying thunks onto the floor. “Charles!” I called out while opening one of them. I found the manual. Its first dozen pages had simple instructions, tailored for the factory, even, with blueprints and firing lines. “Hey, take this. I’m leaving that cat drone here too, it can take one or two of them out. Just... hold tight, okay? I’ll check in on you tomorrow, promise.”

Charles took the manual, then looked at the pile of gear. “This is too much,” he said.

“That’s not a tenth of the points I’d spend taking out a hive,” I said. That might have been a lie. I’d stopped paying attention to my points a while ago. “It’s worth it to keep most of you alive. Start a guard rotation, set up chokepoints, and take the aliens seriously, for the love of god.”

“Right,” he said.

I patted him on the shoulder, then ran off. I didn’t have time for drawn-out goodbyes. If they lived or died would be very much up to them now.

Gomorrah was waiting for me in her car. It was idling a foot off the ground, growling and eager to move. I jumped in, then let out a long breath.

“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 she’s 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. “You’ve been out all day. You must have a few points to spend. If we’re going to be facing off against a large horde, then now’s the time to start looking into whatever gear you need.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. That made sense. “I don’t 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. “They’ll pay themselves off quickly enough.”

I shrugged. It wasn’t a terrible idea. “What are you getting?”

“A jetpack.”

I blinked. “You’re getting a jetpack?” I asked.

“Yes. They let you fly.”

“I know what a jetpack does. That’s... okay, that’s 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 didn’t 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.

We’d 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 Family’s 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 wasn’t 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.

***