Chapter Sixty-One - Mimics

“You shouldn’t believe just anyone’s claims that they’re a samurai. It is surprisingly easy to fake it.

One notable story is that of Snapdragon, the alias of a young man who obtained some basic body armour and some cosplaying supplies, then created a samurai persona for himself. This isn’t entirely uncommon, and there are events and groups that ‘play’ at being samurai. Snapdragon took it one step further by patrolling the streets and even participating in the periphery of some incursions.

He was discovered to be faking it when a group of Antithesis overran the position he was guarding and he was unable to procure more weapons or ammunition as samurai so often do.

Seventy-eight civilians died.

Be wary of false claimants, and don’t be afraid to ask for proof. Most samurai will provide some evidence of authenticity if asked.”

--Extract from ‘A Concerned Citizen’ series of pamphlets distributed in 2035

***

Targets Eliminated!

Reward... 25 Points

I panted for a bit, heart beating away in my chest as if I’d just spent twenty quality minutes with Lucy instead of just lightly jogging around. A ten-second fight with an alien did that, I supposed.

“Shit,” I said for a lack of any better response.

I walked to the side a bit, then moved back towards the dead alien. The Model Nine looked like someone had dropped a potted plant on the street.

“Shit,” I repeated.

You’re distressed. More so that I’d expect from you after an ambush.

I shook my head. “I’m fine,” I said. “Just... it spooked me is all.”

I glanced at the real reason I wasn’t feeling all that great. The minivan was just a few dozen meters away. The water pouring from the busted hydrant was slowing down, and over that I could just make out the car’s engine still rumbling away.

“Shit.” Third time now.

I bent over and scooped Whisper up as I started towards the van. A quick look over the crossbow didn’t reveal anything obviously wrong with it. Maybe a nick in the paint? Nothing terrible.

I set the crossbow against my shoulder and started moving closer to the minivan, looking around for more trouble. Any bushes that gave me a weird look were going to get shot.

The van’s doors were all closed, but the passenger side window was broken.

I held my breath then looked in.

Four bodies.

I didn’t stare for all that long, but it was enough to know that none of them were alive. The Model Nine had hit me like a demented blender, all claws and striking limbs. I couldn’t imagine fighting it stuck inside an enclosed space without any fancy gear. I didn’t need to imagine the results of fighting in close quarters.

Felt a little sick, honestly. “Myalis, let’s move on,” I said. “Where’s the next group of civilians?”

One block north, to the left at the next intersection. A group is moving on foot.

I nodded and started jogging over. There was no way people on foot could do anything against another Model Nine, not if one of them could wreck a car. Well, not wreck a car but... whatever.

I’ve found three Model Nine’s in your vicinity.

My boots scrapped the ground as I stopped and started looking around, Whisper already tucked into my shoulder. “Where?’

Pardon me, English is an imprecise language. By vicinity I mean within two to three hundred meters of your current location. I have been observing the area and noting any visual artefacts caught on camera. Comparing the before-and-after images occasionally reveals new objects that are likely Model Nines.

“Anything I can shoot?” I asked. I was getting into a shooty mood.

Nothing in your line of sight. The civilians are approaching one of them. It is currently disguised as a standing mailbox.

I didn’t even take time to swear, I just took off running.

Grabbing Whisper’s strap, I flung it over my shoulder, then tugged my Icarus from under my coat. The crossbow was a weapon designed to take out targets from afar, sure, but it was a precision weapon. The grenade launcher had a whole other sort of precision to it.

“High explosive,” I said as I tucked the launcher against my shoulder.

I could see the civilians, maybe a dozen of them in all. Some had rifles with them, but I doubted those would help.

A few turned around. Maybe they saw my head? My footfalls weren’t making much noise.

“Hey!” One called out.

I ignored him to scan the road ahead. Trees, some bushes, a few cars waiting in driveways. There, near the middle of the road. A bright red box, nearly perfectly square and standing on four legs, but the logos on the side were only vague splotches and the legs were at a bit of an odd angle. The more I looked at it, the more it stood out as wrong. Not so wrong that I would have given it a second glance if I was driving by or anything though.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

I raised my Icarus until the line projected over my vision landed right at the base of it. I tugged the trigger back.

Firing while running meant missing. At least with my aim it did. Which is why explosives were the best.

The fake mailbox, the sidewalk next to it, and a chunk of the grass next to that burst apart. Clods of dirt and Antithesis bits rained down across the road.

The civilians screamed.

Targets Eliminated!

Reward... 25 Points

“Any others?” I asked as I looked around for anything weird. Strange bushes, weird mailboxes, talking animals, anything that stood out, but the place just looked like a mundane street, albeit one with a new crater in it.

“Who are you?” one of the civilians asked. He was pointing a gun at the ground between us.

Nothing in the immediate area.

I nodded and lowered Icarus. Didn’t need to spook anyone into shooting me. “Hey. You guys heading to the headquarters?”

The civilians looked to each other. “Who are you?” the one in the lead asked again.

“Friendly... friendly-ish neighbourhood samurai,” I said. “Sorry about the explosion, that mailbox was an alien.”

They didn’t believe it.

I’d lied poorly before. It was one of those things you had to get good at as a poor crippled orphan kid, and to get better at lying, you had to know when someone didn’t buy it. Which was kind of insulting. I was partially invisible and had a big gun. Did they need me to hack into their augs to announce myself too?

Obviously it was the mailbox thing that stretched their believability.

I flicked off the invisibility on my coat again and tucked my launcher away. Didn’t need to give anyone a reason to twitch. “I’m Stray Cat. Based out of New Montreal. I’m here with a few others, we’re securing the civilians around here.”

Guns lowered some more. “Was there really a xeno behind the mailbox?” the guy I assumed as in charge asked.

“Yeah,” I said. Close enough. “Where are you guys headed?”

“The old arena. A bunch of us are heading that way. It’s our meeting place for when things go wrong.” He rubbed the back of his hand across his nose. “Can you tell us how things are going?”

“In Black Bear? Alright? Some casualties, but not that many.” I held myself together fairly well, I figured. “The incursion near here’s really small. We’ll have some heavy hitters around soon, but we don’t want normal folk out and about when that happens.”

“We can’t go to the headquarters. Most of us are sub-contractors.”

“I... don’t see why that should matter?” I said.

“The company doesn’t like us interfering with their things,” he explained. “We live here, but half the town’s basically off-limits to us.”

Some of the folk behind him nodded, and I started to notice that they weren’t all dressed to the nines. It was the middle of the day, sure, and I didn’t expect people dressed to impress, but these people were all in jeans and... well, normal clothes that had been worn before. Not poor, but not far from it, maybe?

“Look, the company doesn’t like you interfering, but they’d really hate it if I did. There’s another samurai by the headquarters guarding it, Gomorrah. She’s the nun with the flamethrower. She’s very good at turning the unrighteous into charcoal, and she wouldn’t leave a bunch of people waiting outside for the aliens to nab them. If the company gives you trouble later, you just reach out to me, alright?”

That seemed to work.

I figured I’d press my momentum while I had it and I took off ahead of them, heading towards the headquarters. It was only a couple of blocks away. “Myalis, can you get one of my cats to come over? It can escort them the rest of the way once it gets here. Also, where’s the old arena?”

Your P.U.S.S. Model Y is on route. As for the old arena, it’s not on any of the official maps, but I suspect it’s this building here.

A building flashed on my map.

Some older social media feeds call it the town arena. It predates the corporate acquisition of the town, and doesn’t seem to have been in use since.

“Well then, I guess we know more or less where we’re heading to next,” I said.