Chapter Twenty – Rescue Quest

Chapter Twenty – Rescue Quest

“For a while there was a real debate across just about every country, on the nature of self-defence. Should civilians be allowed to arm themselves for their own defence? What kind of weapon can a normal person carry that goes too far? How do you split the difference between acceptable arms and unacceptable?

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–Start of a Vidtube broadcast, late 2026

***

“Alright,” I said. “Lay it on me.”

Simmons and I had moved off to the side between the gantry mechanisms holding up a pair of hovercars. We had both crossed the yellow striped line on the ground that marked the area where it was or wasn’t safe to stand while hydraulic lifts held up the cars around us, but I don’t think either of us cared at all.

“Materson and Thundercrock have gone missing. At least, they’re not reporting in.” Simmons reached into one of the many, many pockets along his belt and pulled out a small radio, not bigger than his palm and made of that off-white plastic that all cheap shit seemed to be fond of. He tapped the front screen. “No signal from their mics.”

“Okay. And who’s Meterson and… Thundercrock… is that really their name?”

He nodded. “Jeff Materson and Storm Thundercrock, and yeah, it’s his name. Two of my agents. Not the brightest, but loyal and hardworking enough. Sent them to the third floor. I caught sight of a few survivors in that area. Pair of young women, some office workers from one of the accounting firms. They just showed up on the security feeds for a little bit then were gone, but I figured they were worth trying to save too.”

I couldn’t fault him for that. “Security feeds?”

He tapped the side of his neck, the universal sign for an augment. “Neural and optic implants connected to the building. I can see through any of the building’s cameras, and any of those that belong to a store that’s under our contract. That leaves a lot of blind spots though.”

“Can you see any aliens?”

He nodded somberly. “Yes. The first two floors are crawling with them. Models Three through Six, mostly. Nothing bigger yet.”

I felt an eyebrow perking up. “You know your way around the aliens?”

“I was military before signing up here. This won’t be my first incursion,” he said. “It’s why I don’t mind the idea of leaving, even if it’s a risk. It’s better than trying to pull a last stand. Those never work out against the xenos.”

“Right,” I said. “So Materson and Thundercock?”

“Thundercrock,” he corrected. “And they went MIA. I don’t think they’re dead though, just incommunicado. They’re not the sort to go AWOL, and if they were, where would they go? Take a stroll down main street? Nah, I need someone to go check on them.”

“And you want that to be me?”

“You’re a samurai. Your sort tend to like killing xenos by the lot. It’s why I don’t mind your green ass strutting around as if you own the place.”

I snorted. “So I need to earn my keep?” I asked.