Chapter Twenty-Nine – The Popo

Chapter Twenty-Nine – The Popo

“Most inner-city police forces can be divided into four broad categories. These might overlap, being controlled by the same corporations, or they might be their own entities. This depends on the city, or even the area within a city.

Knowing how to approach each of these is what this pamphlet aims to teach you!”

—A Good Citizen’s Guide to Your Armed Protectors! 2023

***

“Uh, ma’am?”

I opened my eyes and looked around. It was hard to see, on account of the wall of water splashing against my front with enough pressure to send a normal, non-power-armoured person flying back.

I knew I wasn’t the only one benefiting from the splashing water. The civilians we’d saved took turns standing nearby, allowing the spray to wash off some of the grime. It left them wet and even more bedraggled than they had been, but at least they were clean. Gomorrah had used the hydrant water to clean herself off too. I think her suit was just as hydrophobic as my own.

I was just standing there because there was something very enjoyable about the noise and feel of so much water beating against me.

“Ma’am?”

I sighed and turned to the man calling out for me. A police officer, with a blue uniform on and white body armour over his chest, legs, and arms, made of hard plastic and likely reinforced enough to take a low-calibre shot or two.

A beat cop. The sort with an uncovered face and who carried no more than a handgun. Not a tactical police officer, or a detective; just a normal, almost-friendly face that would only beat up minorities, the homeless, and likely his wife.

Stepping to the side, I let the water move past to bathe the sidewalk and clean it off for the first time since… likely forever. “Yes?” I asked as I dripped water like a cat pulled out of a tub.

The officer shifted on the spot. His trousers were wet up to the shins. “We wanted some direction, ma’am,” he said with a gesture behind him.

The side of the street was a busy place today. Some six or so paramedic vans were parked half-onto the sidewalk, their large turbines humming as they idled, and the auto-turrets mounted above them scanned the street for potential threats.

The police cars were parked in a semi-circle around the area, lights strobing red and blue and sirens blaring with the occasional pause for an audio advertisement. The few hobos hanging around the street were long gone. This many cops in one place was bad for their business.

The civilians we’d liberated were being looked over by some EMTs. Blood pressure was being taken, skin swabs, maybe blood samples to check for whatever they’d caught while down in the sewers. Basically, the EMTs were running every test they could without bringing anyone back to a proper hospital.

Likely for the best.

“We’ve secured the perimeter, ma’am,” the officer said. “The other, ah, samurai is communicating with the EMTs. I thought we could discuss things with you.”

I winced. Now was the part where they’d ask if I had anti-crime insurance or the like. We were the ones to call the police, so we were responsible for their wages. “Alright, what’s up?”

“We have the addresses of most of the, ah, civilians. Some of them don’t have homes on record, but we obtained the locations where they wish to be dropped off. We’re ready to set out with the first batch. Ah, we don’t have enough squad cars to bring all of them back in one trip. We might have to split the group in two and leave a few cars behind as protection while we bring the first batch home.”

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah, that sounds reasonable. Gomorrah and I will be around for another few minutes, so I doubt anyone will try anything. We might be going back down soon.”

“Are there more civilians down there?” he asked. “If you don’t mind the question, that is.”

“Yeah, another group—a bit bigger than this one, I think.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“In that case, if you call us ahead of time, we can arrange for transportation to be there. Given enough notice, we can ensure that there will be enough cars to bring everyone back home safely.”

I nodded, slowly. “Thanks, you’re being real helpful,” I said.

“Anything for one of our fine city’s samurai,” he said. “I’ll be organizing things here. If you have any questions, feel free to contact me, or if you wish, the home office. The operators know to expect your call and give it the highest priority.” He saluted me, then jogged back to where the rest of the cars were waiting.

I couldn’t get over the absolute weirdness of talking to a cop and them not being an absolute jackass. It was like waking up to discover that the sky was, and always had been, yellow.

“Fucking strange shit,” I muttered as I walked over to where Gomorrah was standing. She was talking to a paramedic, but the conversation ended as I arrived. “Feeling cleaner?” she asked.