Chapter Thirty-Eight – The Rat and the Hungry Tiger

Chapter Thirty-Eight – The Rat and the Hungry Tiger

“The System started in 2022.

Fortunately, we like speculating too!”

–Documentary except from an interview with the creator of “The System,” 2029

***

The city hall’s entrance was a grand and ostentatious place, tax-paid marble, bribe-paid paintings, a few repossessed statues on plinths. It was genuinely nice. Very intimidating.

I walked past men and women in suits, who often stopped to stare. I don’t know if it was my armour or Rac’s Racness. It was sort of disappointing that I wasn’t making any noise as I moved. It would have been appropriate to clang and clunk with every step.

There was a small line before the reception desk, a long counter with inch-thick glass over it and some secretaries behind. Three of them currently served some forty-odd people in three columns.

I considered cutting to the front, but that was just rude. I was here to scare big important politicians, and most of those in line looked like normal folk. Middle-class people in their Sunday best, clutching paper documents and staring off into space with the boredom appropriate for someone waiting in line.

The woman behind the bullet-proof glass was overweight, her third chin decorated by a couple of gaudy infomercial necklaces, and her eyes was very obviously focused on anything but the man standing before her.

“Why’re we waiting?” Raccoon asked.

“Because it might make things easier in the long run,” I said. I couldn’t help but notice the security guards gathering on the edges of the room. They were eyeing me the way a rat might eye a hungry tiger.

The guy at the very front moved out of the way, walkin off with a huff. One of the people ahead of us spotted me, then stepped aside and shifted to the next line over. Awfully kind of them. That left us one person behind the front.

“What?” the man asked in a low hiss.

The fat woman behind the desk spoke with the low drone of someone who had no shits to give. “You brought the document in duplicate, but it needs to be in triplicate, and these are dated for today. The deadline is today, which means that it’s too late.”

“Isn’t it inclusive?” the man asked. “This is unreasonable! If I don’t have this, where will I stay?”

“There is a nine month waiting period for an affordable housing unit. Please see form AF80. Can I help you with anything else?”

“You… argh,” he groaned before stomping off.

I looked at Rac and she shrugged. “I ain’t ever filled out any paperwork before.”

Fair enough. I stepped up to the counter. “How may I help you?”

“I’m looking for… whoever’s in charge here,” I said.

“That’s not this department,” she replied.

“Well then, which department would know where the mayor’s office is?” I asked.

She frowned. “The mayor’s office is on floor eight. You need an appointment to visit him, which you can obtain from the–”

“Okay, cool,” I cut in. “Look, the city’s about to be in a heap of shit, and I’m trying to stop that from happening. Can you buzz the mayor and tell him I’m coming? That might smooth things over.”

“Miss, this isn’t the department for that.”

I was pretty sure shooting her would complicate things. “You’re real useful, aren’t you?”

“Insulting a government agent is an offence,” she droned.

I wasn’t allowed to insult the people here? “Um, go fuck yourself? At least that way you’ll burn some calories.”

“I could call the guards,” she snapped.

I blinked. She still wasn’t looking at me. A twitch of my augs and I was in her system and… she was watching a soap opera. I flicked that off, and she jumped a little, blinked, then refocused on me. “Fuck your guards too,” I said. “What are they going to do? Shoot me? I have a space sword… bitch. Come on, Rac.”

I took off, heading towards an elevator bank at the far end of the room.

“You lost that one,” Rac said with obvious good humour.

The author’s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“I didn’t summon a live grenade in her lap, which is a victory for my self control,” I said to soothe my pride.

A guard stepped up before us, still a dozen metres ahead. He looked a pinch nervous, but ready to try and stop me.

“Get in the elevator,” I said. Rac nodded, so I stepped away from her, angling slightly off to the right.

The guard moved to stand where I’d be walking now.