Stray Cat Strut

Chapter Twenty-Three - Sludge

“In an ideal world, the Samurai’s task would be to fight the alien threat and to provide humanity with the tools to do the same.

This is not an ideal world.”

-- Professor Asimov, Lectures on the Antithesis Threat, New Oxford University 2027

***

“You could have warned me it would be that loud!” I shouted.

I did warn you.

“No, you said it would be loud, not that loud.” I rubbed the butt of my hand against my uncovered ear, my other was blocked with my shoulder, It didn’t stop me from wincing at the still-constant ringing. Forget firing my gun in an enclosed space, that bomb had been impossibly loud. At least the gunfire was one loud noise that ended quickly. The grenade I’d flung, on the other hand, kept wailing and wailing like a demented siren.

At least nothing was bashing at the door anymore.

The aliens were probably just as stunned as I was. If they had better hearing than a human that... well, then that wasn’t the case anymore.

I dabbed at both ears to make sure they were blood-free, then worked my jaw a little until my ears popped. Had there been a difference in pressure too? Besides the sound thing? Whatever, it didn’t matter. I had been having a bit of fun gunning aliens down from the relative safety of the elevator, but I still had to get a move on. The idiots wouldn’t save themselves.

I shook my head and tried to ignore the fading ring in my ears as I pulled out my gun and held it poised before me. “Alright Myalis, open her up.”

The doors squealed open. A torrent of green and black sludge seeped in past the door and into the tiny crack between the elevator and the floor proper. There was enough gunk that some of it flowed in.

“What the shit?” I stepped back then got onto the tip of my toes as the sludge rolled closer. “What is that?” I asked. The doors were still only opened a crack but I couldn’t see anything alive on the other side, just a floor covered in a few centimeters of liquid gunk.

Those are the remains of the Antithesis adversaries that had been waiting for you.

“They were gooped?” I asked.

Don’t you know what a resonant frequency does?

“Yeah, it’s not this,” I said as I gestured at all the blood and flesh and other bits that looked like they’d been passed in a blender. The doors finished opening, revealing a hall with a dozen skeletons strewn across the room with little more than tattered muscles still attached to them. Some had holes in their skulls and bodies, those that I’d shot before, but the rest were fresh and new.

I wrinkled my nose and stepped in the goop so that I could stick my head out of the elevator. Nothing. At least, nothing alive.

“God, that did a number on them,” I said.

Indeed. Do you want your new point total?

“Yeah, whatever,” I said.

Targets Eliminated!
Reward... 80 points!
Current points: 192!

“Was that all of them?” I asked as I moved over to one skeleton with too-loud splish-splashes. My shoes were basically fucked if the goop didn’t wash off. My pants too, while I was at it.

Doubtful. There are probably dozens of them on this floor alone. The Antithesis tend to be fairly thorough with their scouting.

“Why?” I asked. “The scouting I mean.” Leaving little pockets of survivors here and there didn’t exactly harm them, I didn’t think.

Biomass. Each kill is marked with a pheromone. Each large gathering of plantlife, patch of fertile soil, source of food and so on as well.

“Hungry, aren’t they?”

Interminably.

I moved out of the little lobby area, careful not to make too much noise as I moved. A plaque on the wall named six or so companies that had sections of the floor, with arrows pointing off in the right directions to get to their offices. The plaque tried to connect to my aug-gear but I turned away.

“Now, if I was an idiot, where would I be?” I muttered.

Shrugging, I found a corner to pause at where I had a decent line of sight, and pulled out the little radio Simmons had handed me. It took some fiddling to get the thing to work, but soon enough I had a lock and Simmon’s voice came pouring out of it.

“Samurai?” he asked.

“I’ve got a name, you know,” I said.

“And you never gave it to me and I don’t have time to quiz people about it. Are you done?”

I stared at the device. He was a lot more bold when I wasn’t around. “No. Just got to the right floor.” I hoped it was the right floor. “Ran into a dozen or so critters that needed a send off. So I was a bit busy too. Do you know where your idiots are?”

“Northern side, close to the Finan-Tek offices. Come back quick whether you find them or not. We have a developing situation that could use some resolving.”

“Got it. Was that all?” I asked.

“It was. Simmons out.”

“A developing situation?” I asked the empty air. “That sounds fun.”

The Vanguard are often called upon for things beyond their original remit.

“Story of my life,” I said. “Come on, let’s go.”

I am literally in your head. You don’t need to tell me to go with you. I’m along for the ride already.

The Finan-Tek offices were, according to the signs hanging from the ceiling, way off on the other corner of the building, which meant that I had a bit of a walk to get there. A walk past other offices that all had glass walls and lots of that sort of useless ‘cool’ furniture that start-ups love. Who needs seven couches in an accounting office?

I felt myself growing nervous as I moved with only the distant cracks and booms of a small war outside and the squelch of my wet shoes to accompany me.

“Hey Myalis. That alien juice isn’t bad for me, right?”

It is somewhat toxic. But the drugs still in your system should negate the worst of it, and I suspect that by the time the toxins have time to settle you will have replaced a few of the organs they put at risk.

“What if I’m not keen on replacing my body bits?”

I didn’t peg you as a body purist.

I snorted. “Fuck no. Give me all the cool cyber parts. I’m just wondering, there have to be a few Samurai who aren’t into that.”

There are all sorts of methods to improve yourself. It would be difficult to fail to find one suitable to any given person.

I heard the twin cracks of a gun going off ahead. “Let’s shelve that one,” I said.