Chapter Forty-Four – Sword Talk
byChapter Forty-Four – Sword Talk
“The term ‘samurai’ was, for the most part, a meme that became part of the standard lexicon. Early vanguards–as they’re appropriately called–were compared to feudal warriors, a new caste of expert combatants against the Antithesis threat.
Someone made the comparison to the ancient samurai, and despite some glaring inconsistencies between the actual samurai and the vanguard (notably, the vanguard don’t answer to any lords or government) the term stuck.
Interestingly enough, there are a number of vanguard that gravitate towards a self-image very similar to the pop cultural depictions of actual samurai. From carrying swords, to cultivating a ‘gentleman warrior’ personality, they mimic the legends of the past to further their own image in the present.”
–Lecture on the Cultural History of the Ancient Warrior, Professor Hickmen, 2040
***
“Hey Rac,” I said as I sat down in the kitchen.
The girl pulled her head out of the fridge, a block of cheese in her mouth, a loaf of bread tucked under her arm, and I think every bottle of condiment in the fridge was pressed against her side. “Hmh,” was her reply.
I watched as she navigated over to the table and dumped everything onto it, then returned to the fridge to scavenge out more stuff. “What’cha making?” I asked.
“Sandwich,” she replied, her voice made echoey on account of her being halfway in the fridge.
“Cool,” I said. “Guess I’ll make one too.”
Rac returned with three packages of food, while I found some plates and some knives from one of the drawers. For some reason likely related to the kittens, there were no sharp knives left in any of the drawers, just butter knives.
Rac and I made sandwiches. It was nice.
“The ham’s the best,” Raccoon said between large bites.
I hummed. “I like the turkey better,” I replied. We had made a few sandwiches from all the meats available. Real meats too, at least according to what was written on their packages.
“So,” Rac said. She reached over and grabbed a juice box, tore the straw off the back, and jammed it through the top. She slurped loudly before speaking again. “When do you want me to leave?”
“You don’t have to,” I said. I shoved the end of my current sandwich down my mouth, then slapped a piece of bread down on my plate and reached over for the tomato paste.
“I’m not going to stick around and be one of your kittens,” Rac said. “I’m my own girl, and I can take care of myself. Also, pass the mayo.”
I passed her the mayo. “That’s alright too. But if you ever need a place to spend the night, then we’re around. And if you’re looking for work…”
“You said that already. What kind of work? All I know how to do is pick up trash.”
“Well, it happens that that’s exactly what the job I’m thinking of needs,” I said.
“What job?”
I looked up as Lucy walked into the kitchen. Her hair was a wet mop above her head, dragged down and looking kind of pitiful. She was in fresh clothes, which is to say torn up cargo pants and a stained t-shirt.
“I’m hiring Rac for a thing. Also, we need to go clothes shopping.”
“We do,” Lucy agreed.
“Later today… maybe?”
She grinned. “If the world doesn’t catch fire between now and then, sure.”
“I’ll tell the world to chill the fuck out for a bit.” I placed some meat down, then some slices of cheese which I covered in some brownish sauce that tasted sweet. Then the final bit of bread. “Want half?” I asked.
“Hell yeah,” Lucy said. She sat across from me, and for a moment there was peaceful quiet as everyone at the kitchen island chowed down. “What are we doing today?” Lucy asked.
“Myalis called some contractors this morning,” I said. “If you want, we can pop over to the museum and we can decide how to lay things out with someone there who, you know, does that kind of stuff.”
“Oh,” Lucy said. “That does sound nice.”
I nodded. “After that. Uh, depends? I have a few calls to make, and some important people to annoy. I think you could come along for some of that, but it’s a little dangerous. I’d rather you were home.”
Lucy stared, one eyebrow rising.
“Not because I don’t think you could help, I just don’t want you to get hurt, and you don’t have armour like I do, or Myalis. And you can watch over the kittens, uh,” I said. I had the distinct impression that Lucy was letting me talk more so that I could dig myself deeper than to actually hear what I had to say.
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She grinned. “You’re lucky that you’re so cute,” she said.
“What’s that mean?”
Lucy shook her head. “I can come back here before you go and get all dangered up.”
I nodded. “Cool.” We finished up, and then I went over to our bedroom to grab something to wear. I couldn’t go out in nothing but a t-shirt if I wanted to be taken seriously.
I slid on my under armour after giving it a sniff–still clean enough–then stared at my armour in the shower.
It was a little bulky for everyday wear, I figured. Instead I tossed on my long trench coat and put on some of my slightly older gear. I wouldn’t be as bulletproof, but we were literally just going to meet some people here and there. Nothing dangerous. And if it came to that, I could just buy more armour on the fly.




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