Chapter Nine – Sweet Schemes Are Made of This

Chapter Nine – Sweet Schemes Are Made of This

“Cringe.”

–the President of the United States, 2028

***

Class let up, and I took my sweet time making my way out. The prof, Rogers, actually came up to me and asked me if the lesson was to my liking and… yeah, it kind of was.

It was a bit more philosophy over more practical shit, but I could see how that kind of way of thinking might actually apply to a battlefield. “I liked it,” I said. “Not sure I’d want day-after-day of philosophy, though.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “We’ll likely be alternating between more philosophical approaches to tactics, actual physical education classes which will eventually include live combat simulation, and also some historical study, both of more modern battles and of some older ones from centuries prior.” He smiled, a little smugly. “It’s rare to find someone who isn’t interested in history when you’re looking at the most interesting parts of it.”

“The big battles, you mean?” I asked.

“Exactly,” he said with a nod. “Something about an ancient siege stirs the blood.”

I decided that I liked Professor Rogers. He knew what good, sensible people liked.

“If you want, we could dissect some of the battles you were in,” he offered. “It could be interesting, especially since we have you here to corroborate some of the tactical choices made moment-by-moment.”

I decided that I disliked Professor Rogers. He didn’t know what was good for him.

“Nah, I’d rather not. I’m not a tactical genius and I’d rather, uh, study better cases than my own,” I said. “Anyway, I’mma head on out. See you around.”

I scooted on out of there soon after. Almost as soon as I was out of the class, I felt my unfortunate shadow slot into place next to me. Olivia, with her supplies hugged close to her chest. “Did you enjoy your first class at CIAL?” she asked.

“Uh-huh,” I said. “One sec, I need to text someone.”

I texted Lucy a quick ‘Where’s your 🍑 at?’ and her reply was a quick eye roll, followed by saying she was at the mecha carrier, showing off the MEOW. The fat armoured mech which should have been sitting pretty inside of the Bastion.

She didn’t say who she was even showing it off to to begin with.

It was probably telling that I knew that Lucy was up to something from a one-line exchange and that had me walking a bit faster. Olivia started to jog to keep up, then I started to run, and I could hear her starting to pant as she kept up.

“Miss… Cat, why are we running?”

“My girlfriend was left unsupervised with weapons of mass destruction again,” I said. “There’s a very real chance that she’s trying to start a cult. Again.”

“Again?” Olivia asked. “Wait, cults are against school rules unless sanctioned beforehand!”

I frowned and slowed my run down to a calmer jog. I probably didn’t need to rush that much. “Olivia, you know that the rules are made up and laws don’t matter, right? They’re like, some autistic guy’s idea of writing down all of the little shit society does to not be a bag of dicks, but written down. Then a thousand years go by and now everyone thinks that words on paper are like, holy and unbreakable or something. But you can punch a cop. They have noses and everything, and they’re usually just standing there.”

Olivia’s mouth worked, and I suspected that I broke her a little because it took her a while to reply. “The samurai truly have an interesting view on how society functions,” Olivia said.

I shook my head. This was the problem with talking to folks stuck in their ways. You could point out the truth to them but the bit of their brain primed to make up excuses was faster than the one made for realizing they were dead wrong.

She’d probably grow out of it, one day. Like someone growing out of being religious or something. Or she wouldn’t, and she’d cling to it to the end. I didn’t really care either way, because she wasn’t pissing in my cereal.

We made it across the campus in good-enough time, but it was clear as we were nearing the big plaza in the middle that there was some shit going down.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

People were moving centre-wards more than away, and the closer we came, the more people were moving in that direction. What was just a few dozen was a few hundred before long.

For some reason a lot of people were posing with cookies? Making silly faces while their friends looked at them in that way that came with using one’s augs to take a picture. Some had smartphones out too, or even actual digital cameras.