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 don’t 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.

That doesn’t mean that there’s 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 wasn’t 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.

“I’m 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... don’t die, alright?”

I couldn’t help but grin a little. “I’ll do what I can not to.”

“Do more,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to take care of the kittens on my own.”

“Meh, you’d 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.

I’d 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.

One moment, I’m moving your vehicle closer.

I brought an arm around Lucy’s shoulder and pulled her into my side as we waited. It didn’t take very long that a sleek black car pulled up before us. It wasn’t a sport’s car or anything, but it was really nice. I could imagine an executive being chauffeured around the city while doing... taxes, or whatever rich people did.

“Looks like that’s our ride,” I said as I moved up to the back door and opened it up for Lucy. I even gestured her in with my new arm.

She laughed and climbed into the back before I followed her in. The moment the door was closed the car started to move, and a chime sounded from somewhere.

“Welcome, honoured customer, to Charon Limo-Taxi. This is vehicle One-One-Seven serving the New Montreal region, and of course, serving you,” a smooth, feminine voice said.

Lucy oooh’d. “Fancy. Do you know where we’re going?”

The chime sounded again. “Your destination has been entered as the Rose Briar Museum. Warning; this location is within a yellow-incursion zone. The Charon Limo-Taxi cannot guarantee the safety of our honoured clients within that area.”

“That’s fine,” I said.

I figured, from Lucy’s profile, that she would enjoy this treatment a little more.

A glance over at Lucy, who had found a screen to poke and prod at, proved that Myalis was essentially spot-on.

I leaned to the side, shoulder pressing into Lucy’s. I took off my helmet, figuring I wouldn’t need it in the car of all places, and I allowed my new ears to twitch a little. They made combing my hair a real pain in the ass, not that I did much to care for my hair at the best of times.

The taxi wove into traffic, and seemed to insist on following every law in the book. Gomorrah would have gotten us there already.

I was almost dozing off when I felt the car tip down and blinked awake. We were dropping towards the skyline, buildings rising up around us, many of them torn and shredded, others sporting car-sized holes in their sides, or with the corpses of antithesis creatures jammed into them.

It was a surprisingly busy area, with hover-platforms slowly working their way up the buildings with orange-wearing indentured workers aboard. Clearing crews, I guess, searching out and disposing of any dead aliens.

If they were around, that meant that most of the aliens were dead.

The taxi turned and spun around the top of a rather familiar building.

The knot in my stomach at seeing the museum was unexpected, but maybe it shouldn’t have been. Lucy’s fingers slipped through mine, and her grip tightened.

We came down for a slow and gentle landing on one of the cleared landing zones on the roof. There was only one other car there, though judging from the streaks and boot prints covering the ground, there had been plenty of people around recently.

It was, of course, raining, because it was always raining. Fortunately, it was the slow, weak sort of rain that was more annoying than anything. Just scattered drops, smacking the ground and the windshield with intermittent taps.

The car shook a little on contact with the ground.

“Charon Limo-Taxi wishes you good luck in your business dealings. We shall be here, awaiting your return,” the taxi said.

I opened the door and slipped out, then helped Lucy out.

Reaching into my coat, I pulled out my gun, the new one that was meant to be stealthy. “Here,” I said. “It’s called the Victorious. It fires smart rounds, so you don’t need to aim too much.”

“Uh?” Lucy asked.

“Just in case. There’s a safety thing, uh, I think it’ll 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 I’d just handed her a sick puppy.

“In case you need to shoot something,” I said. I’d 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 that’ll 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.

“Don’t 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. “I’m 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, you’re kinda cute when you’re 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.