Chapter Fifty-Five – Cutting To The Heart of The Moon

Chapter Fifty-Five – Cutting To The Heart of The Moon

“Are they hiding something from you?

Top Secret News says… yes! Exclusive street-side interview with two samurai reveals hidden truth! A Conspiracy is at play! Subscribe now!”

–Top Secret News, 2057

***

“Hey, thanks, eh? You saved my ass back there,” Gros Baton said.

“Yeah yeah, just don’t get too comfy about it,” I grumbled.

I didn’t mind the kid. He was polite enough. Hell, he was just a good bloke as far as I could tell. He tried, at least, and that was more than I could say about a disconcertingly large portion of the population.

My only problem with him right now was that he had his arms wrapped around my waist.

I didn’t have any issues with Rac holding onto me. She was a kid, and a girl, so it was fine, but I was getting all sorts of squicked out by this guy. I mean, it was objectively stupid. I was wearing several layers of armour. None of his disgusting boy germs were gonna escape his hairy arms and get to me, but it was still uncomfortable.

Fortunately, we didn’t have to fly far.

I shot across Saint-Jérome, then down to use some of the taller buildings to cut our line of sight from the media sorts we’d left behind. Then I gunned it, rushing out of the city at an angle and slowly curving around westward until I was aiming more or less towards where the Big Gun was.

A few minutes later we were being scanned by a dozen AA positions that looked ready to tear us apart until something pinged us as friendly. I really needed to upgrade my bike to something that could take a few flak hits before the inevitable happened, but the inevitable wasn’t happening today, and I landed in the open space before the command structure a few dozen metres from the big Gun.

“Alright, enough clinging to me, off, off,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gros Baton said as he rolled off the side of the bike. “It wasn’t comfortable for me either. Didn’t know where to put my hands. Christ, you need ‘andles or something.”

“Keep talking and I’m getting a sidecar,” I said.

“That sounds kinda fun?” he said. “I was thinking I’d get something too, ya know? Une genre de skidoo qui peut voler ou ben quelque chose d’même?”

I wasn’t sure what he was saying there, but I kinda got the mental image from his gesturing. “Uh-huh. Just make sure it’s got a good auto-pilot. Real lifesaver that shit.”

“‘Kay,” he said with a nod.

I checked the time on my augs. I was only twenty-minutes late to the start of my shift, which really didn’t explain the ‘why did you shit on my bed’ look Hedgehog was giving me as I got closer to the command centre and he stomped out.

“You finally decided to show up?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Had to save the kid from the big bad journalists. I think I’ve given them enough to talk about that they’ll leave us alone for a minute.”

He sniffed. “There’s no such thing. They’re insatiable.”

“Well shit, I was hoping some of them would at least be a little distracted,” I said. “So, how’s the gun?”

He uncrossed his arms and shook his head. “It’s doing well enough, but we’re short on ammunition.”

“Can’t you buy some?” I asked.

“Tankette has been supplying us, but her ammunition is mostly… standard. Her armour-piercing shells have had the best effect so far, but they’re not nearly as efficient as some of the more… creative ammunition you left behind.”

Hedgehog started walking towards the little room at the back of the gun, the one I’d loaded the shells in last time. “Are we out of creative things to shoot, then?” I asked. “I can buy more. Hell, I can buy a lot more, I upgraded my catalogues for just this occasion.”

“Good, good,” he said. “Phobos has been pounded all night.”

“That makes one of us,” I said.

Gros Baton choked, then started to laugh until Hedgehog turned and gave us both the stink-eye. “We’re talking about the end of the world here. Some level of seriousness would be appreciated.”