Chapter Fifty-Four – The Flames That Burn With Purpose Light The Way to Heaven

Chapter Fifty-Four – The Flames That Burn With Purpose Light The Way to Heaven

“When the system is corrupted you don’t patch it. No reasoning. All burn.

All things rot. Code or creed. But the fire? The fire is the product of rot and its very end. The alpha and the burning omega.”

–Footage of a Cultist of Flame prior to his self immolation, 2032

***

When I checked the group text we had going on, I discovered that Gomorrah had taken charge. That surprised me less than it maybe should have. She did have that kind of attitude, and neither Shy nor Nya seemed the types to want to take charge.

Actually, no, Nya would take charge, and make it everyone’s problem.

It was actually a clever way of doing things. Maybe I could learn a thing or two from the weird cat-woman, because if I started to act like she did, maybe people would foist less responsibility onto my back.

In any case, Gomorrah wanted to meet at this ritzy little cafe. It was on the topmost floor of one of the smaller skyscrapers in the city centre. It was barely fifty floors tall, and looked pencil-thin compared to all the much larger buildings in the area.

The cafe was wedged in a corner of the building, with massive windows giving a pretty nice view of rainy old New Montreal. I parked the Bastion in the nearest free spots and was happy to note that the rooftop parking had exactly three other vehicles. Gomorrah’s Fury. Shy’s beaten up old sedan, and a slick Japanese-style recumbent skycycle.

It was a slick black and red, with… well, it had vents on the front that looked suspiciously like cat ears and about a thousand ‘nya’ stickers slapped onto the sides.

I parked the Bastion nearby, settling it down gently so that I didn’t kick up too much dust. I didn’t want to have Gomorrah chewing my ass because I’d gotten her ride dirty. It did look pretty slick and clean with a layer of rainwater on it.

Stepping out of the ship, I ducked my head down and darted for the nearest entrance into the cafe, fighting against the strong winds that blew this high up.

Once I was in, I realized that the place was empty. It shouldn’t have been, there was a timetable by the entrance that clearly showed that it ought to have been full, but other than a pair of waiters lingering at the back by the entrance to the kitchens, it was empty except for one table all the way in the corner.

I walked over. “Am I late?” I asked.

“The time I gave you for the meeting was half an hour before it was due to start,” Gomorrah said as she looked up to me. She didn’t look impressed. “Any yet, yes, you are still late.”

“Oops,” I said unapologetically as I pulled out a seat next to her and slumped down into it. “Sup?” I asked Nya and Shy.

“Nya-hello!” Nya said.

Shy just gave me a little wave. She was geared up a little differently. A long black coat, which was usual, and I could tell that she was rocking a pair of large shotguns under that, but she had a full-faced mask that looked like a smiley face. It still looked high-tech, and I imagined it was pretty expensive.

“Nice mask,” I said.

“T-thank you,” she muttered.

“So,” I said with a clap. “Lemme order something and then we can start?”

There were pastries and half-drunk coffees on the table already, and the sight of that was reminding me that I’d skipped breakfast. There was a small touch-screen in the middle of the table to order from, so I tapped through some options and ended up with something large and unpronounceable, a mix of Americanized Italian and barista jargon, and a chocolate-almond croissant.

I licked my lips as a waiter brought the drink over. It was tall, covered in four different sauces, and had enough calories to feed a family of six for a week.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked.

Gomorrah eyed me, and without a mask on she was really able to ooze disapproval. “See that megabuilding over there?” She pointed out one of the big windows.

I squinted. It was a megabuilding on the outer edge of downtown, one of the smaller commercial-only buildings. “I see it,” I said.

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“That’s Rama Corp’s headquarters for New Montreal,” Gomorrah said. “Or a few floors of the building are.”

“Alright,” I said. “So we’re gonna pay them a visit?”