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 that’s 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 won’t 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. I’d seen some high-tech looking places on my media feeds, of course. Who hadn’t? But stepping past the door next to Longbow’s 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. Longbow’s assertion that this cost approximately thirty-thousand points wasn’t 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 Longbow’s toys later.”

“Can I keep a recording of you saying that?” Longbow’s 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.”

I shook my head. “I swear, if I find a vid online of my saying anything like that, I’ll find you, and then I’ll kick your ass.”

Longbow laughed. “Right, right. Fair enough. I wouldn’t wanna ruin your rep so soon anyway. Roof access is at the back. Do you have anything to move the car?”

“I’ve got bombs?” I said.

“That’ll do! Good luck, Stray Kitty!” The speakers shut off with a clunk before I had time to tell him off for being an ass.

He wasn’t all that bad a guy, which just made it harder to be pissed at him.

“Are all Samurai like that?” I asked.

Of course not. All Vanguard are quite unique. Though the criteria by which a Vanguard is chosen does mean that they will usually be amicable towards others like them. There are entire communities of Vanguard who work closely together.

“Cute,” I said.

You don’t have to join any of those, of course. More than half of all Vanguard work on their own while still keeping in contact with others. The ‘lone wolf’ is rather common among the chosen.

I found the roof access at the back, just like Longbow had said I would. It was a heavy door, with a wheel in its centre that I had to press all of my weight against to turn.

The moment I opened it I was slapped in the face by a torrent of rainwater. I screwed my eye shut and barred my teeth for a moment before glaring outside. The door led right onto a little section of the roof with waist-high rails around it and what might have been a great view beyond that if I could see more than ten paces ahead.

“Do I have glasses available? Or a hat?” I asked.

Not in any of your current catalogues, no. Sorry.

“God damn,” I said. I yanked my hair back and tied it in a quick bun, which was always a pain to do one-handed, but it would keep it out of my face. I grit my teeth and jumped out, shoes splashing on the floor a moment before I pulled the door shut behind me. “All this stuff had better be waterproof,” I said.

No worries. All of your equipment should be fine in this weather. I would advise against catching a cold though.

I nodded, then tore my mask off. It was annoying already, but wet it just became a pain in the ass to deal with. The landing had access to a little parking lot, the sort where VIPs could park their Maserati for maximum visibility, and a little staircase that led up to another, higher section of the roof.

That’s where the AA gun’s platform was, so that’s where I went. The stainless-steel steps clunked underfoot as I moved up and onto the taller roof, then I kept low as I looked around. No aliens. At least, none on the roof directly. I could see flocks of them flying off in the distance, but they weren’t an immediate concern.

The car sitting on its side atop the slightly-raised lip of the gun position was.

I was expecting some sleek hovercar left behind by some douchebag, but the hovercar was more of a hover soccer-mom van, and one in bad need of a bit of fixing up. The front end was crumpled against a cement post poking out around the edges of the moving part of the platform. There had been some guardrails around it, but the hovervan had torn most of those off.

Still low, I moved around and towards the driver’s side. The airbag had gone off at some point, and someone managed to pry the door open. The bit of blood on the pleather seat didn’t hint at any good news for the driver.

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. “There’s no driving this thing off,” I said.

Do you know how to drive?

“Can’t be that complicated,” I said. “But it doesn’t matter. This one’s fucked.”

I looked around for an easy way to move the car out of the way, but there wasn’t a convenient crane or forklift just sitting there waiting for me.

“We’re 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. It’s more of a ribbon, but it’s not special, and the way it's designed should allow you to unwind it without any danger. What are you thinking?

“I’ll 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. It’s 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 you’re looking for. And it’s a chain of interlocking graphene blades. It’s more than strong enough to do what you seem to be thinking.

“Cool. Well, give me one of each, and we’ll try and see how my idea works out.”

I’m certain there are better ways of moving the car.

“Yeah, but my way is fun!”