Epilogue

Epilogue

Grasshopper was keenly aware that the flimsy front door of Stray Cat’s home couldn’t hold her back. Still, being a samurai was, in her opinion, less about strength and more about knowing when to use that power. Too many samurai forgot that they weren’t all that different from the average man or woman on the street.

So, being a polite neighbour and friend, Grasshopper stopped by the door and knocked. Stray Cat’s home didn’t have a doorbell. She imagined that the young samurai was so busy making her house look like a giant cat that she might have forgotten to add something to let people know she had guests over.

Or, maybe that was on purpose. Grasshopper had had to deal with all sorts of rude, unwanted, and rudely-unwanted guests, especially when she was newer to the job. Her house wasn’t a gigantic cat sitting atop a skyscraper, which afforded her a bit more privacy.

Eventually someone passed by the door on the other side and stopped. It was a young woman, maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. She stared at Grasshopper who waved, then the young lady turned and screamed something to someone deeper in the home.

Grasshopper had turned down her audio-devices, the systems that allowed her to see through walls, and even her tracking systems. Privacy was a valuable commodity, and even if no one knew that Grasshopper could violate theirs, it was still rude to do so.

It took a minute, but eventually the girl was joined by another who looked to be about the same age. They chatted, looked to Grasshopper, then walked over and opened the door. “Who’re you?” the first girl asked.

“Hello! I’m Grasshopper! But you can call me Miss Hopper.”

The girls looked at each other, then back at Grasshopper.

She imagined that some of the confusion came from how she was dressed. She really loved her outfit. It was a woman’s business suit done up in dark blue with big happy green grasshoppers with itty-bitty guns all over it. She had a big bag too, one of those old medicine-bags with an umbrella hooked across the top. It was very similar to the kind of outfit she used to wear at the elementary school she worked at, but the grasshoppers on this one moved.

“Alrighty, then, Miss Hopper,” one of the girls said. “You know this is Stray Cat’s place, yeah?”

“I was counting on it.” Grasshopper grinned and she hoped it came out as more sweet than weird. “Can you tell Cat that I’m here?”

“You know her?” the other girl asked.

“We worked together a few times,” Grasshopper said.

“Wait, you’re a samurai?” the first girl asked. She narrowed her eyes. “Prove it.”

“Oh, I can do that!” Grasshopper said. She raised a hand and was about to ask her AI to buy something small when the girl pipped up.

“Buy a knife.”

“A knife?” Grasshopper asked.

The girl nodded. “A cool one.”

“Knives are dangerous,” Grasshopper said.

The girl shrugged. “So’s living.”

Grasshopper couldn’t refute that logic. “Okay, but only a small one,” she said. With a few stray thoughts to her friendly AI a box was summoned into her open hand with some sparkles and little pops of glitter.

The girls stared. “When Cat summons shit it doesn’t do that.”

“I pay extra for the effects!” Grasshopper said, rather proud of the fact. The glitter settled (it was designed not to stick and to be entirely biodegradable within under a year) and Grasshopper opened the box, revealing a little army knife. “It has a knife, two sporks, a little flashlight, and a compass.”

“Neat!” the first girl said. She plucked the knife out of the box and they toyed around with it. Finally, after a moment of obvious reluctance, she gave it to the other girl. “Cat gave me a knife already, so you know, fair’s fair.”

Grasshopper had to suppress a joyful clap. Sharing!

“Anyway, come on in, Cat’s with Lucy. Bet they’re banging while thinking they’re being all subtle about it.”

“Oh?” Grasshopper asked as she stepped in. “Is that a common occurrence?” She made a mental note to add sex-ed to her lesson plan. That hadn’t come up much when she was teaching in elementary school, but Cat’s kittens seemed to cover a wider range of ages.