Chapter Fifty-Seven - Before the Storm

“Times change, weapons change, but the fundamentals don’t.

You have no idea how hard it is to armour someone up so that a piece of metal moving really fast can’t kill them. In the eternal arms race between projectile and armour, the projectile has one hell of a lead.

We keep that race going. This year we introduce civilian-grade class seven armour. Able to stop even a DMR round dead in its tracks. We also introduced a new 9.50mm AP round which can brush through class seven like it’s tissue paper.”

--Mestle Arms and Childcare Division head, 2039

***

“You know, I’d appreciate any advice you can give,” Jimothy said. He rubbed at his chin, where there was a bit of stubble. Not enough to be like... hot guy on a poster stubble. He looked more like someone that needed to shave. Then again, I wasn’t really keen on facial hair.

“How long have you been a samurai for?” I asked. It couldn’t be too long if he didn’t have a name. Then again, Gomorrah had gone around without one for a bit.

Jimothy shrugged. “About... four hours now? Five? I don’t know, the day’s been pretty busy.”

“Huh,” I said.

“Yup. Was back home, minding my own, when some monsters roamed over. I lived by Hitchen’s Brooke, out to the east of here. Nice little community. Anyway, I thought we were right done for when the aliens started showing up in the morning.”

“You decided to stay there?” I asked.

“We were packing still. We decided to move as a big group. Smart thing to do, you know? More people means more protection, but also more chances of getting help if something goes wrong. But it also means that we were slow. Couple of retirees over there, you know? Not the fastest tool in the shed.”

I wasn’t sure if that was how the expression went, but I didn’t have the credentials to second guess him. “Yeah, fair. So you took a stand or something?”

“Mmmhm, with my great-grandpa’s Mosin. Took out a few beasties. Then this nasty tentacle’d fuck, pardon my French, showed up. Ate nearly every round I had. Grabbed me by the leg and I only got out of there because I gotta a knife in my pocket. It did let the others get to safety.”

“You’re a brave one,” I said.

He chuckled. “Didn’t you have to do the same?”

“Well, no, I only had to kill two of them.”

“Just two? You got off easy.”

“I only had one arm at the time, and a piece of pipe,” I defended.

He grinned. “Now that makes for a better story.”

I patted him on the shoulder. “It’s not all about the story. Just getting the job done, keeping your folk safe.”

“I don’t know about that. This pretty samurai lady showed up a bit after. She... gosh, she was something else.” Jomothy was blushing a bit, which was... something alright. “We got to talking. Well, she talked and I shut my trap and listened. She said that having a good and proper image is one of the most important things you can do as a samurai, to get recognized easily. She didn’t wanna name me though.”

I frowned. “Wait, was that Emoscythe?”

“Miss Emoscythe Mordeath Noir, yes,” he said. The way he spoke her name made it sound like something fancier than it was.

“Right, yeah, she’d say something like that. Anyway, my advice isn’t about image, alright? Just shoot the enemy dead, then kill the next one. Keep yourself safe too, I guess. Maybe buy a helmet so that people don’t think you’re insane when you’re talking to your AI.”

“Ah, that’s a good idea, I guess,” he said. “Don’t know how I’ll incorporate a helmet into my look though.”

“Life finds a way,” I said. “Or your AI can, at any rate. If you want to play into the gimmick... I guess big guns and woodcraft stuff. Knowing how to track and find hives will be damned important in the next bit.”

He nodded. “I’ve gone hunting before. I’m a fair shot too.”

We both paused as the ground shook. One of the nearby buildings decided to give up the ghost and collapsed. Fortunately there were a few buildings between it and us, so the dust cloud went up instead of out.

“We’re going to need to get into position. So, you shoot things well?”

“I try,” he said. “Might get a thing or two to help my aim.”

That sounded like a waste of points to me. “Get a bigger gun too,” I said, thinking of the rifle Grasshopper had.

“I’m rather keen on keeping this one. Do you think that’s alright?”

I blinked. “I guess? Maybe you can get your AI to modify it a bit? Adding sights doesn’t make it a new gun, right?”

“I guess not.”

“And switching out a part or two can’t hurt either. It can be one of those... ship of Theseus things. Besides, bullets are half the reason guns are good at killing things, right? The gun’s only the delivery method. Try firing black hole grenades or something out of that thing.”

Jimothy blink. “I hadn’t thought of that. Enyries is saying that it’s a workable idea. Don’t have many points yet though.”

“You’ll earn plenty,” I said. I glanced towards the city. Something was happening. There was a distant rumble, and I noticed most of the PMCs around us starting to move with a bit more alacrity. Whatever break we had was over. “Get to somewhere you can shoot from. And stay alive. You can’t try to date the cute goth girl if you’ve been eaten.”

Jimothy grinned sheepishly. “Sure thing. Maybe once we’re done here you can give me advice on how to talk to girls, yeah?” He waved, then ran off to join some PMCs while gesturing to one of their lookout towers.

Did... I not count as a cute girl? What, just because I was wearing a metric ton of armour? It had boob plates!

Grumbling to myself, and deciding that I’d commiserate with Lucy later--because she’d think it was funny, if nothing else--I returned to the centre of the area I was meant to protect. “Alright, Myalis, we need mortars. I’m thinking six or so of them? In a rough line. We can load them up with something that goes boom in a big way. Oh, maybe some sort of frag rounds? Really punch holes into the bastards.”

There are a multitude of flavours of fragmentation rounds. Though, seeing as how you’ll likely want to avoid collateral, perhaps proximity-detonated macro-fragmentation shells?

“Sounds hot. And we have plenty of points to spend,” I said. More explosions sounded out, from behind and before the gap. I glanced back and spotted a few artillery barrages starting to open up. The arcs they were firing in were landing shells only a few hundred metres deeper into the outer city.

How close was the wave?

Six mortar systems, coming right up.

Six light thumps sounded around me, and I jumped back as six boxes, as big as I was--armour and all--appeared next to me. Then twelve more thumps sounded and a gaggle of cat mechas unfolded themselves and ran around so that there were two per box.

The cats grabbed onto little handles and lifted the boxes up, then started to move across the area.

They’ll set up the mortars. Each team has twenty rounds already, though you’ll want to replenish those eventually.

“Can we auto-buy new rounds as they’re depleted?” I asked.

That is certainly an option. Do you wish to?

“As long as it doesn’t break the bank.”

The nearest cats opened up their case, which unfolded into hydraulic legs and a long tube with a case next to it and a bunch of measuring doo-dads and what I suspected were recoil-tubes to absorb any impact when they fired. These were less mortars and more small artillery pieces, I realised.

A bunch of PMCs and militia-folk were staring as one of the cats opened the breach, loaded in a shell, then hopped onto two legs and started to turn a little adjustment wheel to point the barrel sky-wards.

“Nothing to see here, folks,” I said. “Just some robotic cats about to do some weird shit.” That was mostly aimed at the one guy who was very clearly filming with the augmentation covering an eye.

Cat, you might want to direct your attention to the Family’s map.

I frowned and did just that.

There was a lot of red. More than even the initial wave had. “What the fuck.”

It seems as though this second attempt will be somewhat more numerous than the first. More diffused too. Expect to see an increase in higher-ranked Antithesis.

“Shit,” I said. Suddenly, I felt like maybe a few mines and some mortars wasn’t going to be enough.

I saw Gomorrah running to the front, and within a half-second, I was doing the same. We needed to break this wave, or else the streets of New Montreal, of my home, would be flooded with alien filth. Again.

***