Chapter Thirty-Two - Meat Thinking

“They’re like rats. Don’t corner them.

Hmm? Oh, you want to know if I mean the aliens or the samurai?

Both.”

--Mayor Laplace, 2028

***

“Reloading,” Grasshopper said.

“Got it.” I stepped up around her and shouldered my Bullcat. My railguns were smoking already, but they didn’t let up the fire, picking off stray antithesis on the edges. My own fire was more of a covering spray of lead that had some of the more skittish of the aliens backing off.

B.E.E.S. buzzed around in large swarms, falling onto any antithesis that didn’t look quite dead enough or piling onto the faces of the higher-ranked models to take them out of the fight for a moment.

All that racket played over the incessant drone of the resonators I’d left behind. The mobile base behind us occasionally joined in with a burst of machinegun fire or a shot from its big gun that kicked up dirt and threw a few of the smaller antithesis around.

“I’m set,” Grasshopper said.

I stepped to the side and stopped walking long enough for Grasshopper to take my place at the front and in the centre of attention. She was a better shot, and a better fighter than I was. She twirled around and nailed every bastard in sight.

“Area’s clear,” she said. “We have a few seconds.”

“Got it,” I said.

So far our tactic, if we could call it that, was to have Grasshopper move up, kill everything, then keep moving. I’d replace her at the head when she needed to reload or breathe a bit. Judging by the number of corpses we were leaving behind, the tactic was working.

“I’m going to set up another bee container,” I said. “Can you watch my back?”

“I will, no worries,” Grasshopper said.

I nodded, then sprinted out ahead and past the latest pile of dead xenos who were all merrily melting away.

Dropping to one knee, I picked up a B.E.E.S. container just as it dropped and set it off in a quick, practised motion. A fresh swarm rose up and joined the remnants of the last.

“Cat, model fours,” Grasshopper warned.

I spun, taking in a trio of those creepy tentacle fucks crawling out of the woods with their long apendages reaching out towards me. “God damnit,” I swore as I fired into the nearest. How hadn’t I heard it?

The swarm above fell on them, and I saw holes punched through them in time with Grasshopper’s shooting. The three fell.

“Probably an ambush,” she said. “They were waiting for us to reach them, but you ran out ahead. We’re going to have another wave coming... yup, right there.”

A dozen or so model threes shot out of the other side of the woods, shoving bushes aside and slipping through the tall grass before they sailed out towards us.

The mobile base opened fire while Grasshopper did the same, and the ground melted as it was caught between two deadly streams.

“Nice work,” I said as I stood in the middle of the road and waited for the convoy to reach me.

“Thank you,” Grasshopper said.

“This is weird, they’re just streaming in, but we’ve pretty much proven that they can’t reach us.”

Grasshopper ‘tsked’ and shook her head. “You’re thinking like an animal, Cat.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re thinking like a person who can think, like a mammal. When you see someone like you fail at something, you learn from their mistake and try something different. If someone tells you not to do something, you’ll consider it if they mention a sufficiently grand risk. We are animals.”

“Alright,” I said. I scanned the woods for more aliens, but couldn’t see anything. Then again, I usually only saw them when they were already charging.

Grasshopper gestured ahead towards the woods and the antithesis in general. “They are plants. They have plant thoughts. If something doesn’t work, just push harder. Roots can crack stone if they push enough. Sometimes they’ll find a route around a problem, but only by pushing at the problem from every angle.”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. They’re still pretty stupid.”

“Let’s hope they remain that way. Stupid as they are, they’re still winning, aren’t they?”

That was sobering.

Something crunching through the foliage ahead had me looking up. We were at the bend in the road, or at least we were nearly there. The curve did make it harder to see out ahead. Still, I couldn’t see what was making all the racket.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“The next one’s going to be big,” Grasshopper said. She lowered her guns to her back and let her gear reload them for her. “This will be fun!”

“You say fun, but I’m not sure we have the same definitions for it,” I said. I was smiling all the same.

As we reached the curve in the road, the antithesis waiting in ambush for us rushed out.

A few model fours on either side, a couple of dozen model threes rushing ahead of them, and two massive model sixes. The big bastards trampled towards us, not quite as fast as the model threes, but not much slower either. “Shit,” I muttered as I opened fire.

The mobile base joins in, spraying down the xenos on our flanks. They’ll be hitting us first.

Something grabs me by the scruff and tugs me back. I almost shout before I realise that it’s Grasshopper pulling me back. I glance where I stood and find a model four’s tentacles reaching towards me.

Grasshopper shoved a gun forward and into the mass of tendrils and opened fire. “Eyes all around,” she said.

“Right.” I half-turned, targeting the nearest model threes. They’re dying in droves but each shot one of them takes is a round another won’t have to deal with, and they’re making up ground.

I dropped my Bullcat as it needed to be reloaded, and fished out my Trenchmaker from my thigh pocket. I held it two-handed and fired into the crowd as fast as I could tug the trigger back.

My railguns whumped constantly, and I notice that they’re firing upwards.

I looked up, but all I see are branches, some of which are falling...

“Fuck!”

“Language,” Grasshopper gasped.

“No, stealth units, above.”

Model Nines, the stealthy fucks that can make themselves look different. In this case, they’re nearly indistinguishable from the branches they’re hanging off of. One of them leapt down, limbs spreading to reveal nasty claws tucked into what looked like a pile of leaves on the end of its branchy arms.

I ducked to the side as one hit the ground next to me. It spun around, long limbs reaching out to try and swipe at me.

I punted it, armoured boot digging into the little shit’s side and sending it flying off into some of the other aliens coming at us.

Firing forwards, I nail a couple of model threes with my next seven shots, then click on empty. “Damnit,” I swore as I shoved my gun away. Was my Bullcat loaded yet?

Would it be enough to stop the model sixes almost on us? Grasshopper was doing well but...

My hand reached down and wrapped around the hilt by my hip. Screw it, I was going to kill everything and it was going to be nasty.

I slid my sword out of its sheath with a whisper of steel on steel, then charged towards the massive xenos running towards us.

A swarm of B.E.E.S zipped around me, then latched onto the aliens turning to track me.

“Fuck... you!” I shouted as I swung.

I didn’t know how to use a sword. There was all this shit about edges and proper form and all that. But I was cheating already, so I didn’t see why any of that would matter.

My sword made a loud snapping noise, like a piece of glass cracking, and the blade sprang to life, hissing and spitting as it tugged at the air around it.

With a single large swing I took off the nearest model six’s forelimb. Then I grabbed the hilt with both hands, brought it up, and swung down even as I stopped my forward momentum by planting a boot down firm on the asphalt.

The model six slipped down the middle, its insides slurping into the hungry sword even as its forward momentum continued to carry its remains past me.

I shook my head to clear out some of the blood splatter on my visor, then I turned with another swing into the side of the next model six.

Smaller aliens leapt at me from the side, so I met them in mid-air blade first.

For the next dozen seconds, seconds which felt like entire minutes, I swung around me as though I had the world’s most dangerous baseball bat. Smacking and slicing through anything that got within a few metres of me.

Then it was over.

“That,” Grasshopper said. She was covered in antithesis remains, but looked uninjured otherwise. “Is a very cool sword.”

I nodded, breath coming in too heavy for me to trust my voice. I looked around, but all I saw were heaps of aliens and chopped up bodies.

Out ahead, the road continued on, the exit just a couple of hundred metres down.

***