Chapter Twelve - Shopping at the Mall (But I’m Shopping for Explosives)

“There’s been a marked increase in ‘business casual’ offerings this year. The idea being that if the zero-point-one percent are walking around in sweatpants and T-shirts, then clearly that style of clothing must be the right kind of attire to wear to work. Unfortunately for the middle-upper class, they do not possess—what my colleague has so eloquently called—the ‘fuck-you money’ that the zero-point-one percent have, and thus are still forced to wallow about in social tradition and etiquette. As such, we will not be offering a business casual option in our catalogue, and I will fire every single one of you who suggests otherwise.”

—Yanis Papadokalis, CEO of Armani Global Fashions, the year before declaring bankruptcy

***

“Manny!” Harry waved.

“Hey hey, look who it is!” Manny returned the greeting, marching over and wrapping Harry in a hug. “Long time no see! You look like a pile of dog shit.”

The security guard chuckled. “Thanks. Now, I wish we had more time to catch up, but let’s keep this short.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “This is Ben. He’s our new resident Samurai.”

Manny turned and eyed me for a moment. He was even rougher in person, with a deep scowl and some fresh scars around his face. He didn’t say anything as he finished looking me up and down, instead pivoting back to Harry. “Is he a Samurai-Samurai, or a ‘Samurai’?” He asked, raising his hands in air-quotes.

Okay, ouch. I get I didn’t look like much, but damn.

Harry cringed as I frowned. “He’s a Samurai. I’ve seen him pop in a bunch of things today.”

“Sure,” Manny responded, “but look at him. I’ve seen gangsters with better drip.” He flipped his shotgun over his shoulder and started loading shells from its attached bandolier, sparing me a glance as he did. “How long have you been a Samurai, bud?”

Wow, I really didn’t like this guy. He was beginning to remind me of my father. “I got my AI today,” I said. “We’ve been killing aliens, but it’s slow. Haven’t had time to buy any good stuff yet.”

The old marine snorted in response. “Yeah, thought so. Well, we’ll get you there. Let’s go.” Without another word, he stomped towards the front of the bar.

“Wait,” Harry called out, shuffling after Manny. “What are we doing?”

“What do you think?” Manny replied as I tramped after them. “You want to kill Antithesis, right? We’re not going to do that by sitting around with our thumbs up our asses all day.”

“Manny, stop.” Harry caught up to the marine and grabbed his arm. “We need to actually have a plan.”

“What’s there to plan?” he asked.

“We can’t just go charging out and tangle with every bunch of Antis we see.” Harry pointed at me. “Ben’s AI is linked to the cameras; it can tell us where they are and where they aren’t, which means we can find isolated pockets and take them apart piecemeal. On top of that, Ben needs to be the one getting the kills: he gets the points, he can buy more equipment.”

Manny sighed, then turned to me. “Fine. Where does the AI say we should go?”

There are significant gaps in the security camera network—however, predictive modeling suggests that there exists a collection of Antithesis in Le Savoureux on this floor. There is also a single pack of Model Threes on the floor above, but they are likely ignorable given the security of shelters on the upper levels.

Manny’s eyes widened as his augs lit up, Lynata relaying her words to him as well. “Well shit, you’re a Samurai alright.” He took on a contemplative mien for a moment before patting around his pockets and pulling an object from them. “Know what this is?”

I stared at the grenade. “Yeah.”

The marine gave a dangerous smile. “Good. I’ve been preparing for this day for a long time. Took awhile to find someone willing to sell ‘em, and longer to smuggle ‘em in, but now I have half a dozen just sittin’ around, waiting to be used.” He pulled the grenade away as I reached out to grab it. “Ah, ah, ah. Prove to me you can actually kill some Antis without blowing your own head off, and maybe I’ll let you have a couple.”

I frowned. I’d already lived this long, and he could clearly see the mountain of dead xenos behind us. It wasn’t like I didn’t know how to throw a grenade, either—I’d used them plenty of times in Mesh-shooters. Still, perhaps it wasn’t completely unreasonable for the guy to not just hand me dangerous explosives. “Deal.”

A waypoint appeared in the corner of my vision, marking the likely locations of Antithesis around the area. There were a lot below us, but only a couple on our floor. If we ignored the small group above us like Lynata said, we could easily clear this floor and then work our way down until we’d cleared the whole Shopplex. I really didn’t like the idea of dealing with that many aliens, but maybe I’d have the gear to deal with them by then. A bridge to cross when we got there.

Manny led the way, silently gliding across the floor and whipping his gun around at the slightest sound. Before I could follow, Harry pulled me aside.

“Sorry, he’s not usually this bad,” he whispered.

“He’s a dick.” I replied.

Harry sighed. “Like I said before, he’s rough. A little too much time dealing with snot-nosed thieves, I think. But once he gets to know you, he’ll fight to the death for ya. Just… give him time. He’ll come around.”

I snorted, but held back from saying anything else. Harry hadn’t steered me wrong yet, and at this point I had enough experience in the service industry that I could empathize with Manny’s hatred for entitled idiots. The spoiled rich kids who shopped on these upper floors were probably even worse, and I looked just like them right now. So I simply rolled my eyes and nodded, then quickly padded after the old marine.

I tried to copy Manny’s steps, but couldn’t quite accomplish the same silent footfalls without constantly watching my own feet. I nearly stumbled a few times looking around instead, then gave up altogether when Manny gave a deadpan look back at me, clearly unimpressed with my attempt at stealth.

The drone of ad-jingles were at least a lot more obvious in the empty mall, mercifully drowning out the remaining noise of our footsteps, but also made it much harder to hear any Antithesis that might be around us. I kept my head on a swivel, watching the escalators and store entrances, but nothing stirred. We were almost to the first Antithesis marker when an ad caught my eye, causing me to stop and Harry to almost bump into me.

Manny soon noticed our pause. “What’re you doing?” he hissed. “They’re over there.”

I moved a bit closer to Manny and crouched behind a convenient kiosk, pointing back at the vending machine I’d seen. “Mind if we make a little snack break first? I haven’t eaten anything all day.”

“Fucken seriously?” The old marine raised a brow.

“What? I skipped breakfast.” As if to punctuate the sentiment, my stomach gave a loud growl of hunger. “See? I don’t want my stomach to compromise us or whatever.”

Manny ran a hand down his face. “Alright, fine, not like I’ve had a fucken thing to eat either.”

I carefully stalked back to the vending machine, quickly followed by the other two. The three of us mimed a bit back and forth, Harry and Manny eventually devolving into a game of Rock Paper Scissors, before I sighed. “Fine, I’ll pay.” I flicked through a few options on my augs, sending a few thousand credits to the machine as the security guards pointed out items they wanted.

I winced as the machine whirred and clunked, but it was a thankfully small sound in a sea of other noises. The former soldiers took positions around me, watching to make sure nothing snuck up on us, as I extracted the first few snacks. I tapped on Harry’s shoulder, passing out the haul and switching positions so he could spend a few seconds eating in peace. He then switched places with Manny, letting the old marine eat his fill, before finally giving me a chance.

I winced as the ice-cold pop can brushed against the stumps of my missing digits. The can was the only thing I’d gotten for myself—the lenticular gangster on the side of the can, firing a comically large pistol with the words “Pop Pop!” above it, was the same as the ad on the front of the vending machine, and the real reason I’d wanted to stop. My whole body shook as the can hissed open, followed by a rush of euphoria as I greedily slurped the drink down.

Fascinating. Chemical dependency is an interesting phenomenon in biological species. A natural survival mechanism, suborned by industries to create a captive consumer base. Disheartening, but sophontologically relevant across many species. As an AI, I can do nothing more than simulate the sensation, but I have found it intriguing in the past. I find it less so now that my own Vanguard is afflicted by it. I would ask that you please purchase a dose of Cleanse now.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I hummed as Lynata spoke. It’d been three days since I last had a Pop-Pop—not nearly long enough for withdrawal to truly set in, and the symptoms weren’t that bad anyways. I’d been drinking this shit for more than a decade at this point, and it’d seen me through some dark times in my life. The addiction was as psychological as it was physical, and I wasn’t sure even Protector magic-tech would be able to fix that. But if it made her feel better… “How much?”

Five points.

“Fine, buy it.”

The box appeared next to me on the kiosk I was leaning on. It was a slim thing, containing a single pill nestled in a little slice of foam. I swallowed the pill and washed it down with a sip of the pop, just for that extra dose of irony, and waited. After less than a minute, everything became sharper. My limbs became a little less heavy, and I no longer felt like shivving a guy just to get another sip of Pop-Pop. Damn, this shit really was cheating.

The nanites have also cleansed your body of the Vitaphrine’s lingering effects. You are free to consume another dose if necessary.

I shook myself out. “Nah, I don’t think I wanna do that anymore.” I refocused my attention on the security guards watching me. “You two ready to go?”

After getting two affirmatives, I reluctantly set the rest of the can of pop down and pulled the Chatter out of my waistband. We continued on our way, resuming our positions with Manny in front and Harry in the rear. As I passed Harry, however, the security guard stopped me with an arm and passed me a large candy bar, which I accepted with a grateful nod. He must’ve seen me buy only the pop for myself.

I finished the snack just as we approached the Antithesis site marked by Lyanata. It was a fancy-looking restaurant, just another one of the revolving eateries that took over this space every few months, selling bland—and staggeringly overpriced—items that they passed off as food to their rich patrons. The current iteration was some sort of French cafe, filled with cutesy little tables and a neglected salad bar in the corner. A large portion of the restaurant was obscured by curtains drawn around most of the booths, but movement could still be discerned through the gaps. Some Model Fours were brushing aside curtains with their long tentacles, dragging abandoned plates of food off their tables to be consumed by Model Threes, while something larger stalked in the back of the cafe.

“The fuck is that?” I asked.

“Model Five,” Harry and Manny said in unison.

Biological warfare Model, frequently seen in conjunction with Model Fours. The quills covering its body can be individually launched at a velocity sufficient to pierce modern body armor—although it would struggle to puncture your own clothing—and it is capable of emitting a toxic gas from a series of organs integrated into its tongue.

“Fuuuuck, I really don’t wanna go anywhere near that thing.” I murmured, watching the bear-sized monstrosity casually brush aside a serving cart with its bulk.

Antidotes for its toxin can be purchased at low cost, and it is not nearly as armored as a Model Six. You can do it!

Before I could ask Lynata for a few doses of antidote as a preemptive measure, Manny interrupted. “Good thing we don’t have to get near it; I’ll just toss in a grenade or two.”

As the old marine reached for the door, Harry grabbed his arm. “Wait, you should let Ben throw it, let him get the kills.”

“No way, I’m not just going to give ‘em a concussion grenade,” Manny whispered back. “For all I know, he’ll throw it wrong and send it right back at us.”

“Then let him deal with it himself. He has Samurai firearms.”

“Alrighty then,” Manny said, taking on a vicious smile as he turned to me. “How about it, bud? Wanna charge in there, guns blazing? I’ve always wanted to see a Samurai up close and personal.”

I glanced at the pack of murderous Antithesis in the restaurant. “I think I’d prefer it if you just tossed in the grenade.”

Manny snorted. “Thought so.” However, instead of doing just that, he gave the front of the cafe a once-over. “On second thought, maybe not. Too much glass—would just shred us when the grenade goes off. Tell you what,” he said, crouching back down and pointing at the Model Five moving around in the back. “If you two deal with the Antis in the front, I can go long and probably get it far enough that it won’t blow up in our face. Take out the big fucker and some of the others over there.”

Harry nodded along, bringing his head up just enough to see over the windowsill. “That could work. We push in, Ben and I suppress the Fours at the front while you throw it. Ben, that salad bar should protect you from the blast—run for that as soon as you get inside. Manny, that big table over there looks like solid wood; could probably take some shrapnel. I push it over when I get in, and you join me behind it after throwing the grenade.”

I paid rapt attention as the two talked tactics. It was a big change-up from the last few hours, where I’d just been rushed from one situation to another with little more than time to buy equipment. We actually had a cohesive plan, one made by former soldiers who actually knew what they were doing, and that made me a lot more confident in the whole thing. After a few finishing touches, I bought a round of toxin antidote pills for the three of us, then we stacked up on the door. Harry reached over and opened it with one swift motion, and I rushed in.

I immediately hung right, firing my Chatter one-handed as I sprinted for cover. The unaimed burst did little more than nick one of the Model Fours, but it distracted the xenos long enough for the security guards to charge in without notice. Harry put a few well-placed shots in the nearest Model Threes, knocking them down before throwing over his designated table and ducking behind it. Manny, meanwhile, pulled the pin and threw the grenade like a baseball, sending it in a perfect arc into the back of the restaurant, where it smacked the Model Five in the face.

The bestial Antithesis roared and unleashed a volley of quills in our direction, most of which mulched the cafe’s booths or left thumb-sized holes in the bulletproof glass behind us. One punched into my blazer just above my heart, throwing me backwards and driving the air from my lungs as the Samurai-grade protection tightened around the impact. I sprayed down a charging Model Four in front of me and desperately dove back into the measly cover offered by the bar, not wanting to be exposed at all when the grenade went off.

Manny, meanwhile, popped right back out from behind the table and continued firing at the aliens around us. The crazy marine cackled maniacally as he emptied his shotgun, ducking down at the last instant as a deep concussive crack filled the space. A hail of clattering quills and a mist of green blood was flung in our direction, and I glanced out to see that the Model Five had been pulped by the grenade. Sharing its fate were a small number of Model Threes and a collection of splintered tables in a ring thirty feet wide.

Just as we had planned, the three of us jumped out of cover right after the grenade detonated, laying into the remaining xenos as they attempted to shake off their collective concussions. I took my time aiming, putting controlled bursts into the center of the bigger Models until I received points for the kill, then moving on. When my Chatter ran empty, I palmed it and pulled out one of the other pistols in my pockets, doming a Model Three attempting to pounce.

“Hah hah, nice one!” Manny shouted to me, slamming shells into his gun as fast as possible and putting down anything that got close. When Harry took over, clearing the space immediately in front of them, the old marine dropped his shotgun and pulled a second grenade out of his pocket, throwing it through the kitchen doors at the very back of the restaurant. A single Model Four exited the kitchen just in time for the explosive to go off, turning the tentacled alien into chunks of calamari.

Harry and I took turns putting down the few remaining Antithesis, while Manny marched into the kitchen and declared it clear after firing a single round into whatever was still alive back there. I tallied up our kills, using Lynata’s handy points counter to make sure that everything was actually dead, then gave a thumbs up to the other two in lieu of actually speaking. I could barely hear anything through the ringing in my ears anyways.

“Not bad, not bad.” Manny practically yelled as he approached me, slapping me on the shoulder. “You’re pretty good after all.”

“Thanks, and you’re not too bad for an old dude.” I shot back.

The marine guffawed. “Not too old to kick your ass, so watch your mouth. Still, good work. And Harry—” he turned to the other security guard, “—here I thought all that security shit had made you soft. I think you’re an even better shot than me!”

Harry huffed and puffed as he walked up, having finished checking all of the Antithesis bodies. “I don’t know how you can be so excited after all that. That table didn’t do anything to stop those spines—if it hadn’t missed us, they would’ve gone right through us.”

Manny waved it off. “Bah, it still missed us. God, I’d forgotten how fun it was to kill Antis.” He turned back to the scene of devastation at the back of the restaurant, holding out his hands like he was taking a picture. “I think I’ll make this my new screensaver. Has some good feng shui, or whatever that shit is.”

I was starting to think that Manny wasn’t quite sane. “Riiiight.” I said. “So, have I ‘proven myself’ now?”

The old marine stopped and gave me a shrewd look. After a second of contemplation, he swiped a mug off one of the few remaining tables and handed it to me. “Throw this over there.” he said, indicating the back of the restaurant.

I stared at him, then shrugged and gave a half-hearted throw. The mug didn’t go quite as far as I had aimed, shattering after bouncing off one of the alien corpses littering the floor.

Manny shrugged. “Meh, good enough.” He lifted one leg and rested it on the salad bar, pulling up the pant cuff and revealing another grenade tucked into his boot. With a little flourish, he extracted the explosive and presented it to me, doing all but bowing as I took it from him.

“Seriously, that’s it?” I asked.

“I could always take it back, if you want.”

“No, no,” I responded, stashing the grenade away in one of my back pockets. I glanced over to Harry, who had finally finished catching his breath. “So, anything else we need to do here, or are you alright with moving on?”

The security guard nodded. “Works for me. Manny?”

After getting another affirmative from the marine, we exited the cafe and breathed in the comparatively fresh air of the rest of the mall. After checking that none of the Antithesis spots had moved substantially, I called for a short halt. I was just north of two hundred points now, which meant that I could afford something or another that was better than my current duds. Just as I was contemplating whether or not I should buy some stuff for Manny and Harry, too, a sharp bang went off somewhere above us, shaking dust from the ceiling tiles.

“What was that?” I asked at the same time as Manny perked up.

“Hey, they must’ve found my little booby-trap.” The old marine smirked. “Dumb fuckers.”

An ear-piercing, electronic warble suddenly filled the space. Lights flashed overhead as a robotic voice droned over hidden speakers, “Attention, attention: a fire alarm has been activated in the building. Please proceed to the stairwells and exit the building.” The message repeated a few times before switching over to an even more annoying alarm.

“Ah, yeah, forgot about that.” Manny yelled over the din. “Honestly surprised it didn’t happen sooner; grenades and fire alarms don’t exactly mix.” He calmly finished reloading his shotgun as he gestured to the flashing lights. “Give it a few minutes and they should shut off, just keep your eyes peeled to make sure nothing sneaks up on us in the meantime!”

I nodded and covered my ears in a vain attempt to drown out the noise. That was when I felt it: a faint tremor in the floor, growing steadily more violent over the course of a minute. I finally dared to stick my head past the glass bannister next to an escalator, and what I saw below us made my blood run cold.

We had alerted the horde.