Chapter Fifty-Seven – Broadcast Necromancy

Chapter Fifty-Seven – Broadcast Necromancy

“-Okay… okay, so this might be a bad idea, but hear me out.

-No!“

–Overheard discussion about My First Stray Cat Dolls, 2057

***

I got back home a bit after Lucy and discovered her slumped back on the couch, looking exhausted.

“You good?” I asked.

“Hmm,” she replied before cracking one eye open. “I gave a speech.”

“Was it good?” I asked.

“It was great,” she replied.

I smiled. “I wish I was there.”

“Nah,” she said with the laziest little wave of her hand. “You’re too… you. People wouldn’t have listened to me as much. Maybe more? I don’t know. Too much to think about.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Are you okay?”

Lucy yawned, then nodded. “Just tired. Public speaking kinda sucks.”

“I just imagine them all naked,” I lied.

Lucy snorted and made a weak attempt to kick my leg, but I hopped back and out of range. “Idiot,” she muttered.

“Your idiot,” I confirmed. “Do you need help getting to bed?” I knew my Lucy well enough to tell that she wasn’t in the mood for anything fun in or out of bed, but she did look like she could use a few hours of shut-eye.

“If I go now I’ll wake up at like, four AM and won’t be able to sleep, then I’ll be cranky all day. Nah, better to stay up. I’ll watch some slop on TV and get one of the kittens to make me some grub.”

“Slop with slop,” I said with a nod. An old favorite. “I’mma head out, then. I haven’t played with the Nyanzerfaust in a hot minute. Thing’s never going to get reassembled if I don’t put some hours in.”

Lucy nodded. “Go have fun with your big toys,” she said.

Laughing, I slipped out of the room, moving to the side to let two running kittens pass. Making it to the garage, I found myself… kind of quiet?

Like, in my head. There was a lot to think about, a lot of shit going on all at once. Lucy’s big recruiting pitch was going to have consequences whether it worked or not. The gang thing was a whole situation. The conclave was going to need more organizing. I’d need to contact some people, call in some favours.

Then there was the little stuff I had to look over. The sewers, the prosthetics clinic. Maybe helping Tankette or Shy or both move in.

The kittens, the brats living here, were starting to have a future too, and I’d need to help them with that as well. But that felt like a more distant problem for the moment.

What else? The gangs, the corps, the other samurai, the government, the people?

There was a lot of shit circling around inside of my head.

“Myalis, can you find a good radio channel?” I asked.

I’ll find whatever’s least awful. Human music leaves a lot to be desired.

“Does it?” I asked. “Well, I’ve never been musically inclined, but I’m afraid that if you make me listen to some perfect alien music, it’ll ruin the taste of my trashy earth stuff, you know?”

I think I understand. There’s something enjoyable about seeing imperfections.

I snorted. That was definitely a jab. Too bad I was too imperfect to understand it. Myalis found a radio channel that was half talkshow, half music, and somehow no ads?

Or… maybe Myalis was clipping out the ads and playing music of the exact same length in the space where the ads would be. That felt like something she could do.

A few minutes later, seven ads about cat foods played in a row, so she was definitely fucking with me.