Chapter Forty-Four – You Talk Like an Old Lady

Chapter Forty-Four – You Talk Like an Old Lady

“To: Marcus, COO
From: A. Sherpa, Head of Data & Player Analytics
Subject: Q3 CRA Metrics

Speaking of which…”

–Memo between Velvet Wheel Upper-Management, 2057

***

“So, where are we going now?” Nya asked.

I frowned as I considered it. We were back in the Bastion getting buckled into the ship’s cockpit. It was still relatively early. Seven-ish in the evening, actually. I wasn’t hungry, and I wasn’t in a hurry to get anywhere. I had classes in the morning, but like… I wasn’t going to sleep for a while still, so it felt kind of weird to just go back home right now.

Then again, I could go snuggle with Lucy, that was never a waste of time.

“Hey, Nya, how long are you going to be around New Montreal for?” I asked.

Nya shrugged. “A couple more days? Until the ronin back at Nya’s home start asking that she comes back. They have already, but not in a very serious way. They’ll call Nya when the world is ending or something. Oh! Does Stray Cat want to visit Japan?”

“Uh, maybe one day,” I said dismissively. So, I had Nya’s… presence for a couple more days, at least.

She wasn’t all that bad. Not great or anything, but not that bad. I kinda felt like using the fact that she was here. Being a samurai opened a lot of doors. And the doors it didn’t open, I could usually blow off their hinges. Having a top-tier samurai along? That seemed like it would only make it even easier to get what I want.

“Hey, Myalis, where was the last Conclave thing held?” I asked.

You have access to the internet. You can look it up yourself.

“Yeah, but it’s so much easier to ask you,” I said.

Nya giggled. “You have a weird relationship with your AI friend,” she said. “Nya feels like she’s friends with hers.”

“What’s your AI called?” I asked. “And are they a massive, sarcastic pain in the ass?”

“Nya’s AI is Nya!” Nya said.

I… could have guessed that, actually. “Uh-huh,” I said before opening a browser. I typed in ‘when was the last NM crime conclave’ into the search bar, then tapped enter. The first three hundred results were ads, and after that, it was mostly nonsense.

Oh, fine. Seeing you trying to navigate even primitive technology is tortuous. The conclave that you’re seeking took place in the Velvet Wheel casino on the south shore of New Montreal.

“Thank you!” I chirped before punching that into the ship’s navigation. It was a fair ways away, on the far southern end of the city. If we had to use normal travel to get there, it would take a few hours to arrive, but flying a straight line across the city cut the time down to just under twenty minutes.

We took off, leaving the building with Gros Baton and Hedgehog (and Rac) behind and taking to the stormy skies. It was raining a bit harder than usual, which mostly meant that there were raindrops the size of fists coming down and splattering against the Bastion’s side as we shot across the city.

Nya started talking about food. Apparently the local stuff we had here was ass compared to the food back where she was from, though she liked the poutine and complimented Lucy’s cooking, so I didn’t need to see if the Bastion had ejection seats.

We made it to the casino with minimal fuss. I wouldn’t admit it to her, but Nya was actually kind of funny sometimes.

The Velvet Wheel was a massive facility. Only six or seven floors tall, but it had a large footprint, taking up a chunk of the southern shore. There were several parking facilities around the casino itself, which stood as a sort of glittering, all-gold wheel.

The outer sections were all curved around, forming a massive circle with bridges in the centre reaching out towards a central pillar, like spokes on a wheel. The central tower rose up to thirty or so floors above ground level, with a huge sign with the casino’s name on it.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author’s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

I circled the space, aware that the entire time, we were being scanned and pinged by security. A few hover cars took off and trailed after the Bastion after a minute or so. Little armoured cars with roof-mounted turrets and the casino’s name and logo slapped onto the side.

There were parking garages nearby, but I settled for bringing the Bastion down by the front of the building. It scoured the ground clean of dust, throwing it up and away as I landed with a thump in front of a valet-parking station just a few metres from the front entrance.