Chapter Eight - The Cats Who Were Herded

“The Family is a strange organisation. It’s one part a corporate entity whose existence revolves around assisting samurai and acting as a logistical support base for them, and one part a club for samurai to hang around at.

The organisation is unique in several ways. Notably, it’s one of the few corporations whose size has changed frequently over the years. The occasional death of high-ranking members costs the organisation much power, but the influx of new members brings in more than enough to counterbalance the loss.

--The Observer’s Report, Jul-2047 “The Family”

***

When I was told that there’d be a meeting with a whole heap of samurai--hosted by the Family, no less--I was expecting something pretty extravagant as a venue. Maybe another hotel at worst. In my mind, though, I imagined I’d be visiting another space station or something equally awesome.

Lucy had been super jealous last night when I’d recounted my visit to Deus Ex’ home. She spent more time asking about that than she did worrying about the massive, planet-wide alien invasion that was about to go off right on top of us.

She really did have her priorities in order.

We spent a few hours in PJs, just chatting until, between one blink and the next, I fell asleep. Lucy woke me up with fresh toast and slightly burnt eggs and a kiss that took my breath away.

I really wished that I was back home instead of here. Then again, Lucy was going to spend the day moving the kittens over to the new house, so even if I could stay, it wouldn’t be all naps and shower sex.

I shook my head to refocus. As pleasant as those daydreams were, they weren’t productive.

The Family had a building in New Montreal. A boxy thing, with no windows and what looked like thick walls. It would have stood out from the rest of the city based on its size alone. It was squat and short and entirely hidden from the main city. The base was placed on the ground, beneath the huge platforms that held up New Montreal.

I had to dip down below street level and along a main road that was filled with large cargo vehicles going back and forth to reach the base. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why they’d decided to build down there. Maybe privacy? But if they’d built above, where every other building in the city was, it would be much easier to slip in without notice.

Did they not have the budget for a nice place? I really doubted it. The Family had a bunch of samurai working for them, they could just kick some corporation out of one of the towers and take the spot over it they really wanted to.

I sighed. When did I start spending so much time thinking about real estate? It was such a boring, adult thing to think about.

My hoverbike glided towards the side of the building, and part of the wall slid to the side to let me into a large parking space.

A few of the cars here were definitely samurai-owned. The Fury was sitting pretty next to something that looked like a mechanical stingray, and next to that was a large bulbous vehicle covered in windows and with a complex control seat in the middle of it.

I parked my bike in a free spot then disembarked even as a small head-sized drone hovered over to float near me. “Greetings, Miss Stray Cat. Are you here for the meet and greet?”

“I guess I am,” I said.

The drone spun. “Please follow me.”

I glanced around, but there weren’t any other people around, just a well-maintained parking garage. I was spending a lot of time in those lately.

Following the drone, I stepped into an elevator then waited as it shot down a few floors. Way faster and smoother than a normal elevator, I noticed idly. The doors opened, and the drone hovered out into a lobby. An archway to the side led into a large room with a hodgepodge of desks and seats and couches, all more or less pointing to a half-stage at the end of the room.

There were samurai here already.

I recognized that girl in the green armour, Grasshopper, hanging off a wall in a weird squat, a can of soda in one hand with a straw leading up into her mask. She saw me staring and waved.

Sam-o Ray wasn’t too far from the entrance, speaking with Gomorrah with wide, happy gestures.

Deeper in, I made out Jolly Monarch talking with a man in a neat suit that I didn’t recognize.

There was another that I didn’t recognize sitting towards the front of the room, a boy maybe a year older than me, in some fatigues and with a rifle across his lap. Cause Player was speaking to him, perched on a stool that looked reinforced.

“Hey,” Gomorrah called out to me. “You showed up, and actually on time.”

I sniffed as I walked over. “Why do you say that? I’m not late to stuff. I arrive when I arrive.” I nodded to Sam-o Ray. “Hey big guy, how’re you doing?”

“Ah, I’m well, Stray Cat. From the sounds of it you live up to your name,” he said with a grin. He had his helmet stuck to his belt, right next to a large handgun. I glanced around the room and noted a lot of guns and weapons just casually strapped on here and there.

“It’s grown on me,” I said. “If I can use it to get away with some shit, then it’s all the better, right? Look at Gomorrah here, she can use her name to excuse her pyromania.”

“I am not a pyromaniac,” Gomorrah lied.

“Sure,” I said. “So, when can we expect this thing to start?” I gestured vaguely towards the stage.

“Soon enough, I think,” Sam-o Ray said. “I don’t think we’ll have more than twenty samurai showing up.”

“Just twenty?” I asked.

That was a lot of samurai, more than usually gathered in any one place as far as I knew, but it was still just twenty people.

“More will show up once the action starts,” he said. “But trying to wrangle us is like trying to wrangle cats. I think we’re lucky that even this many will show up.”

“Was that a cat pun?” I asked. I couldn’t decide if I was offended or not.

He laughed. “No no, it’s just the way it is. There aren’t as many of us around as you’d think. And not all of us are keen for a big fight you know?”

I glanced back as a few more samurai entered the room. Two that looked like they were in plain clothes, with only a couple of tools and guns to show that they weren’t normal folk, and, behind those two, a young woman in an all-black goth-punk outfit walked into the room. She had a long polearm hanging off her back.

So, not everyone showing up looked like a total newbie samurai, but a lot of them were obviously not geared up for a big fight.

Then again, maybe they had very subtle gear. Not everyone needed power armour or flame-resistant nun outfits to get the job done.

The room wasn’t even starting to feel crowded when someone clapped their hands at the front.

“Guess the show’s about to begin,” Sam-o Ray said as he glanced over. “Gonna find myself a seat before the good ones are all taken up.”

I nodded, and followed Gomorrah to a sort of boxy couch left off to one side. It was strange having a room with a dozen different kinds of seats, but it did make it feel a little less like a formal meeting.

“Hello everyone,” the guy up front said, his voice carried around the room by a bunch of tiny speakers mounted near the ceiling. “I’m LaserJack, a mid-tier samurai and member of the Family. For the moment, I’m also in charge of New Montreal’s response to the oncoming mass incursion, or at least the samurai-related part of that response. Do note that that does not mean that any of you answer to me. I’m just going to be doing my best to direct and guide you to where you’re needed most. I can also be called upon in case you need support, additional equipment, or if you have important information to relay to the others.”

He checked over the room to see if anyone had any complaints, then nodded.

“Good. Now, before anything else, we will all be working with each other a lot in the coming days. I thought it would be appropriate to go around and introduce ourselves. I know it’s a bit... childish, but having a name to put to a face, and an idea of each other’s capabilities, might help a lot down the line. I can start, of course!”

And with that, our strange little meeting began.

***