Chapter Thirty – Model Six
byChapter Thirty – Six
“-this will mean a decrease of one to two percent on next term tertiary stocks.”
“That’s barely acceptable. Can we lay off some chaff, cut that corner a little tighter? I want to break even at least.”
“I’ll see what we can do, sir. Our next issue is the New Montreal Incursion. It’s landed close to some of our properties. The initial damage assessments don’t look good.”
“Weren’t those buildings still under construction?”
“Yes sir.”
“Then toss it to the insurance division. Tell me about the upcoming holiday season. It’s going to be Christmas soon.”
“Of course, sir.”
–Dickson Tech Enterprises. Owners of 2517 Trudeau Avenue. Current time minus one hour.
***
I tried being quiet as I moved.
Tried was the wrong word. I was quiet. Years of sneaking out from my shared room at the orphanage, days spent trying not to be noticed until I grew a backbone.
I was damned good at moving silently.
It’s why I think none of the aliens spotted me as I hid behind a counter.
The entire floor, or at least a chunk of it, was dedicated to a food court. There were about ten or so restaurants lined circling the middle of the floor, with tables and chairs laid out all around next to the windows.
That, on its own, wasn’t too special. I’d been in my share of places like this in malls and such.
Automatic pizza places, traditional tofu shops that had the traditional acne-faced teen employees.
Then there were all the usual chains. McDonalds and Burger King and such.
Unfortunately they were all closed just then.
The two dozen model threes and the half dozen model fours dragging dead fry cooks across the floor gave away the reason.
They were gathering all the bodies over to one side, where a bridge connected the building over to the next one over.
There was an entire network of passages connecting buildings together. That wasn’t anything new. Those connections being used to yeet the dead to the streets below, on the other hand, that was different.
“Shit,” I muttered as I pulled back behind the counter I was using as cover. I’d initially moved to use the main paths around the edges of the building, like I’d done on every other floor, but seeing so damned many aliens had encouraged me to find another way around.
As it turned out, all the maintenance corridors linked to the back of the various restaurants, probably so that they could stock their fridges and shit without bothering their clients. I’d picked a nice hiding spot next to the till of a Noodle Zen shop to do my snooping after coming in from the back.
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