Chapter Forty-Six – A Call

Chapter Forty-Six – A Call

“There are a lot of people that show up when an incursion starts. You might wonder which idiot runs towards the unending aliens swarm, other than a dutiful Samurai, that is.

The big boys though, the ones who are always on the scene first? Those are the private PMCs. Every block they clear, every building they save, every alien dead, means a whole lot of credits changing hands.”

–Colonel Robert Oxford, September 2043

***

I’d gotten stared at before. I was a teen who was missing an eye, an arm and who had ugly burns across her half her face. Worse, Lucy, the girl that I spent most of my day with, was the sort of pretty that could start problems.

I’d been the focus of attention that was unwelcome and ambivalent. I figured I was used to it.

The amount of stares directed my way when Deus Ex shot past the front barricades–and the rows of tanks and milling soldiers–and came to a hovering halt some ten meters off the ground above a sea of displaced civilians and rushing soldiers was so far off the scales that they were sending shivers down my spine.

She did something that had us dropping down only to stop the moment her heavy boots crashed into the pavement.

The teen looked around, ignoring all the people that had backed off to get out of her path. She pointed off towards a row of tents going up alongside the road. There was a wooden barrier and a line of soldiers between us and the tents and pre-fabs and army trucks. “See that van?” she asked.

“Yeah?” I said as I locked onto a row of semis.

The tentacles holding me in place let go. I jumped off in a hurry.

“There should be some gear in there you can take. Simple shit. Just take whatever and replace it as soon as you can with real gear. I’ll ping whoever’s in charge and tell them to add you to a S and R squad.”

“A what?” I asked.

She looked at me, my face’s reflection off the visor of her helmet looking down at me with a mirror of confusion. “Try not to die, alright?” She pivots around, her mechanical contraptions displacing the air with a dull thrum, then begins to hover an inch off the ground. “Oh, and don’t worry about those you saved. They’re probably fine.”

“Wait!” I called out.

She actually waited, which caught me flat-footed for a moment.

I wasn’t one to give much of a shit about social hierarchies and the like, but even my thick skull could get around the idea that a Samurai was above a normie.

“The kittens. The orphans I was with. Where are they?”

Her shoulders drooped. “I’ll make sure they’re looked after. You just worry about the opportunity you have today.”

And with that, the girl twisted around–the back of her platform opening up to reveal a whole crapload of glowing thrusters–and shot off back towards the front line of the incursion.

“What opportunity?” I asked.

I think she’s speaking of the opportunity to obtain more points. Joining a Search and Rescue party wouldn’t be a bad idea.

I looked at all the faces taking me in. Some curious, some ambivalent, others hungry in a way that made me uncomfortable. I wanted to get out of there, but I didn’t know where to head to.

Was Lucy alright? Were the kittens? I had to…

I was an idiot.

With a few flicks of my eye, I opened up a messenger app and opened it to my most spoken-to contact.

Cat: Lucy, you ok?

I licked my lips as I waited for a reply.

Lulu the greatest: CAT! Yes were ok!
Cat: Where r u?
Lulu the greatest: At a hotel. We were going to a shelter. Some guys brought us to a hotel instead. Said it was because of a samurai. Did u do it? HBU? Are you okay? Kittens are fine too!
Cat: I’m fine. I was saved by a laser loli. Talk later?
Lulu the greatest: stay safe! <3 U!

It felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I just wanted to find Lucy now, maybe spend a few minutes hugging her.

The choice was made for me though as a group of soldiers ran my way. They were older, decked in padded armour and with heavy vests on, covered in tools whose use I could only guess at. The guns carefully held diagonally across their chests didn’t need any introducing though.

They wore the typical headgear of the men and women serving in a PMC. A full face mask, breathing tubes reaching over a shoulder and into a canvas backpack. Their matte visors didn’t reflect any light, but I could still make out the rough shape of their faces within.