Chapter One - Staring

“Let sleeping tigers lie.”

--Cooler Versions of Shitty Old Proverbs, fifth edition, 2057

***

“Hey, bot, pass me the clickity thing,” I said with a gesture towards the repair drone.

The drone was hovering there, silent and unmoving, though I knew it had some sort of propeller thing going on because there was a constant wash of warm air coming out from its bottom. I’d purchased it when I picked up my newest hobby.

Technically, this thing could get my mech up and running in a fraction of the time it took me to do it.

Also, it wouldn’t mess up the repairs and break even more stuff while doing it. It had the schematics for the mech in its little robot head, and could fix nearly anything wrong with it, especially with access to my matter fabricator to make parts.

But that would rob me of all my fun.

The drone passed me a tool--was it called a ratchet?--and I leaned into the mech and slotted it over a small bolt.

I hadn’t jumped into this new hobby entirely unprepared. I’d bought a cheap bit of software from Myalis that gave me step-by-step instructions on how to fix this particular mech. It was telling me what to undo and where, and which part needed replacing.

It was kind of like a big three-dimensional puzzle, but one put together by a mad scientist who’d just taken a fat snort of cocaine before they got creative.

Every part of the mech was small and intricate and linked to others so that replacing one piece required that I take apart a dozen more.

I was positive that it was built this way to make sure it was as strong as possible or something. It also made it insanely fucking annoying to fix.

You know, when most people pick up a new hobby, they generally start themselves off easily, then work up to harder challenges.

“Cowards,” I dismissed, mostly because I knew it would bother Myalis.

Maybe you should work on something more your speed? Like a Jenga tower? That would have mechanical properties that even you can understand.

I laughed. “Low blow,” I said. I chewed on my lip while flicking the ratchet around, and then the bolt I’d been working on came free and the part I wanted to replace fell... right in between the armoured plates of the mech.

It clinked and clanked on its way down, and I just stared into the dark crack where it had gone. “Fuck,” I said.

I’m adding to the total projected time until the warmech is repaired once more.

A little counter that had been gently dropping as I worked flickered, and the 36 days climbed up to 39. “You really don’t have any faith in me, do you?” I asked.

I do have faith in you, Catherine. I’m mostly teasing you to keep your mood up. You’re unusually motivated by antagonism, even of the more friendly variety. But I do think that, if you set your mind to it, you’ll master this in due time.

I felt myself flushing a bit, then shook my head. “Nevermind that. Hey, repair drone, fetch that part, would you?”

The drone hovered up and above, and some parts along its side unfolded. Soon a small line snaked out and into the crack, the tip lighting up faintly with what I imagined was a camera-light combo. It had little grippers too, for grabbing onto wayward parts.

The repairs so far had mostly involved taking things apart. I’d removed a few armoured plates and disconnected a few parts. It gave me some access to the front left section of the mech where one of the Gatling guns had been.

The gun itself was... probably somewhere in Burlington still. It had been ripped clean off, hence the repair job.

“Are you taking a break?”

I glanced back to see Lucy returning with a tray. It had a can of soda on it, next to the parts I’d sent her out for.

“Just a little one,” I admitted as I leapt off the scaffolding and landed in a crouch next to her. “Thanks,” I said as I took the tray and set it down. I turned back to her, and swept my gaze up and down. Lucy was always a pleasure to look at, but seeing her in a little one-piece swimsuit was just... nice. Very nice.

Myalis had been swatting away spy drones all afternoon, and while I was pretty sure they were out here mostly to see what I was up to and to snoop on the warmech parked out front, I still felt a little jealous thrill at the thought of others seeing Lucy out here.

“Wow, I can feel you staring,” she said, lips quirking into an easy smile. “But two things. First, you’re covered in oil and gunk. And second, I’m still sore.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I laughed. “Yeah, fair,” I said as I leaned back against the scaffolds and popped the tab on the soda. “Myalis says that it’ll only take me another... month and a week or so to finish fixing this bad boy.” I gestured to the mech with a thumb.

“A month and a week,” she said. “Isn’t that a long time?”

“Eh. If I really need it, then I’ll let the drone fix it up. How long would that take, Myalis?”

Approximately three hours.

“Under a week,” I said to Lucy. Look, I had some pride, and wasn’t above lying to Lucy to make myself look less incompetent.

She smiled the smile of someone who knew and who--luckily for me--thought it was more amusing than anything else. “Hey, thought you should know, but I saw Rac in the printer room. She was making stuff for herself, I think.”

“Oh?” I asked before taking a sip. “Well, whatever. She’d been the one bringing in the most materials for the recycler. Only fair that she gets to use some of it.”

“I think she was making shotgun shells,” Lucy said.

“Wait, really?” I asked. I frowned, then navigated through my aug’s menus to connect to the house’s network--which I dared any non-samurai from trying to break into--then to the printer itself.

The machine was exactly as smart as I’d expect from a Protector-made machine. It had logs of every item it had ever made, and who had picked it up. There were some from me, a few from Lucy, and a heap from Rac.

Lots of turrets, which only made sense. We’d been producing and selling those on the side for a little bit. A lot of them were probably scattered around rooftops in Burlington, and I didn’t doubt that a few would get picked up and resold by someone unscrupulous, but they were basically free to make.

If Rac had nabbed a few herself, then I wouldn’t have bat an eye. I...wasn’t exactly paying her. Sure, free rent and a room with however many meals a day she wanted in my place was nice, but she was a little more independent than the kittens.

But there were a lot of purchases on the list that had me... curious about Rac’s activities.

“Heavy plasma shotgun?” I read. “Myalis, how did she get the printer to print that?”

You purchased a Heavy Plasma Turret Emplacement Blueprint several days ago. The gun she printed is technically meant to be mounted on a turret, so it was included in the blueprints.

“Well, well,” I said.

Not only had she bought the gun, she’d gotten ammo for it, multiple times across a few days.

There were a few other things. Some guns, a few prosthetics, but nothing insane.

I let out a long winded sigh. “I need to look into this, don’t I?” I asked.

Lucy shifted closer to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “It’s fine,” she said. “Besides, I can take care of a few of your projects... if you promise not to add too many more to my plate.”

“Projects?” I asked.

“You were helping someone become mayor, you promised to set up a free-or-nearly-free prosthetics clinic, you still need to do something about the Sewer Dragons... I think I’m forgetting a few loose ends,” Lucy said.

“Oh,” I said. “Didn’t you want to avoid touching me? I’m greasy.”

She shrugged. “We have very nice showers.”

I considered things for a moment, then let out a groan and melted into Lucy. “Fine. I’ll be moderately responsible,” I said.

Lucy laughed. “How about you do things at a reasonable pace? One problem a day?”

“I think some of these things are more than a one-day issue,” I said.

“You know, Myalis can serve as a glorified agenda,” Lucy said. “Myalis, make sure she has at least half a day off. Cat’s technically on vacation. And how is she going to find time for her new hobby if she’s running around all day long?”

Duly noted.

I frowned. “Lucy, stop telling Myalis what to do. She’s my extraordinarily overpowered bullshit AI. You’re only supposed to use her to annoy me and for kinky stuff.”

I’d really rather not.

Lucy gave me a peck on the cheek, the cleaner one. “If I feel like it,” she said, which could have meant anything.

“Right... where’s Rac now?” I asked.

Myalis helpfully let me spy on our friend by giving me her real-time location. She was a few blocks over, taking a public tram across the city.

“I should go check on her,” I said. “Person-to-person, you know?”

“After you take a shower,” Lucy said. Then she smiled. “I’ll clean your back if you do mine?”

Well, I could hardly refuse that.

***