Chapter Eleven – Iron Spines

Chapter Eleven – Iron Spines

“This is going to be a fabulous merger, I’m telling you.”

“I know! It’s a match made in heaven.”

–Discussion between MetalArms CEO and CFO before their merger with Noeing in 2031

***

The mall hadn’t changed much in the last hour or so. It still felt like a terrible place to be holding any sort of meeting, especially out in the middle of the food court where anyone could spy on us.

Then again, we weren’t planning to do anything too skeevy, were we? And a bit of public accountability couldn’t hurt. I imagined it was the same reason why most companies didn’t hold important meetings where anyone could overhear them.

Sprout was waiting at one of the central tables already, back bent over a trio of tablets which he was poking at and studying carefully. Next to him, a man in a militia uniform was standing at attention. He had a few pips on his chest which suggested that he had some sort of rank in the organisation.

Surprisingly, they both had frappuccinos next to them.

“Hey boys,” I said as I came over.

Sprout looked up, then smiled weakly. “Oh, hello,” he said.

“Ey! Sprout! Haven’t grown too much since I left?” Johnny asked as he flopped down onto the bench next to Sprout, wrapped an arm around the much smaller man’s back, and pulled him into a bro hug.

“No, not really,” Sprout said. “Like, really not much. The amount of points I make from my plants is kind of pathetic.”

“How’s that?” I asked.

“Huh? Oh. Well, you know how it is. They’re not directly used by me, so I don’t get as many points from them. But hey, passive point income is nice, they’re mostly paying for themselves now.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” I said. I cleared my throat. “Anyone see Gomorrah around?”

“She’s coming,” Sprout said. “She went to the northern entrance. There was a small wave pushing at the barricade over there and she cleared it out. I, ah, heard some concerns about fire?”

“That sounds like a reasonable concern to have around her, yeah,” I said. That didn’t seem to reassure him much. “What about Manic?”

“Whether or not she comes is up to her. She doesn’t strike me as someone who does meetings,” he said.

I nodded. “And you?” I asked the militia man standing next to our little table.

“I’m here as a representative, ma’am,” he said. “If you need anything relayed to the General, I can assist you. I’m linked into the militia’s net as well, I can pull up information for you.”

That made sense. The General probably wanted to keep tabs on us as well. “Alright. Well, while we’re waiting on the others… Myalis, can I get some sort of mini-projector?”

Certainly. There are a few inexpensive options available. I imagine you don’t want something permanent?

“Just something cheap would do,” I said.

Ten points later, A box appeared on the food court table and unfolded itself. A projection sprang to life above it, of a stylized cat head with a grenade pin in its mouth and a cybernetic right eye. It was even in my colours, pink and dark blue.

I chuckled. “Nice.”

I’ve been working on it for entire milliseconds. It’s a more refined version of some of the logos I’ve seen attributed to you online.

People were drawing shit about me online? That was kinda weird.

“You talk to your AI out loud?” Sprout asked.

I blinked. “It’s, um, for your benefit. I want to show you what a good AI-Vanguard relationship looks like.”

You are, to put it into terms you’d understand, so full of shit.

“Anyway, Myalis, my dear, my pal, my buddy, can we have a wireframe of the city?”

The projection changed to a loading screen, which was a depiction of a kitten running after a ball of yarn, then it snapped back to a map of the city, each building sticking out as a set of thin wire-like lines.

Sprout leaned forwards. “Okay. Nice. We’ve blocked off these streets here, here, and all of these out entirely. We have patrols that check and see if the barricades are still working, but that’s about it.” He pointed to some roads which highlighted them in green.