NOVEL NEXT 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. It’s 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 Ludlum’s, “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 girl’s 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. “She’s alright,” Speedy said. “We’re here for Burke.”
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.
“That’s 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 I’d 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? It’s 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.
At the front we came to a space with a small ladder leading up a floor. Speedy waved me ahead and I tossed Dumbass up ahead of me before climbing up after it.
The bridge, as it turned out, was similar to the tent where I’d met Major Hunt. Tight, with technology that probably cost millions casually stuffed in every possible corner. In the middle of the room was a wire-thin man in a uniform that didn’t quite seem to fit right, he was looking at a blank table before him as if it was the most captivating thing ever.
Want me to slip into the base’s systems?
“Sure,” I muttered.
My vision shifted a moment later and things began to appear. The table skinny was staring at had a three-dimensional representation of the block we were on, with a slow tide of orange slowly leaking across the other nearby streets towards us.
“Sir?” Speedy asked as she made it to the top of the ladder.
The man blinked, looked up, then jumped. “Oh, oh yes. Um, you’re dismissed private.”
Speedy gave him a half-hearted salute. “See you round, kitty cat,” she said before dipping down and out of sight.
The man’s face blanched and he bowed at the waist. “Please forgive my subordinate’s indiscretion. She will be reprimanded for it and her pay will be docked.”
“Uh,” I said intelligently. “Nah, it’s okay? She’s cool. Helped a bunch with squad... fifty one?”
He nodded, a motion so violent that it was almost another bow. “Yes, very well then, as you wish.”
“Right,” I said. “You wanted to see me?”
“Indeed. I’m Colonel Burke. Cleanse, Fourth Division and... and none of that really matters,” he said. “Now that you’re here, I was hoping to ask you a small favour on behalf of the corporation?”
“Shoot,” I said. It was probably the first time a corporation asked me a favour, if I didn’t count random terms of service politely asking for my soul as favours.
“We have a lot of civilians to process. Procedure is that we do it all on-site at the first convenient moment, which happened to be here and now, even though the area will soon be an orange zone.”
“That sounds monumentally stupid,” I pointed out.
He wiggled his hands around. “It’s procedure,” he said as if that explained everything.
“And you need to do it?”
“If we don’t obtain proper identification of the civilians, and proof of danger, then we can’t invoice them for services rendered,” he explained.
I blinked. Of course they were going to charge each one individually. They had to make enough to afford their giant mobile bases and tanks somehow. “And if I tell you that we don’t have time for that.”
“Protocol trumps nearly everything. The exceptions are demands from certain VIPs and, of course, a strongly worded... suggestion from an active Samurai in the field. Especially if that suggestion comes with a warning.”
I think he’s trying to encourage you to threaten him.
“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, ma’am?” he asked. He was smiling now, like someone in on the joke.
I decided not to say that it would annoy me if they didn’t 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. “You’re a sneaky one, huh?”
He grinned at me. “I’ve 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. I’d give them some toys but I bet there are protocols for that too.”
He nodded along. “I’ll make note of it. Thank you, Samurai.”
I gave him a salute that made Speedy’s look downright textbook. “I’m going to go kill a few more xenos. Can you try to get everyone moving fast-like?”
“We’ll 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, ma’am?” one of them asked. “What’s Gomorrah?”
I gestured at about headheight. “Yay tall, stick up ass, looks like a nun. Likes fire... a lot.”
“You mean the other Samurai? She’s by the west flank ma’am.”
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 she’s 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.
***
