Chapter Three - Post Coital Interruptions

“Do you know what kind of opportunity the average person has?

Fuck all. If you’re not born in the right family, have the right connections, and go to the right schools, you’re pretty much stuck kissing the ass of anyone one rung above you on the ladder while hoping that they’ll slip up badly enough that you can take their spot.

Worse, your fortunes can turn in a blink. Spent ten years working your way up to middle management in your department? Too fucking bad, some shareholders decided that your entire division needs to be pruned out to meet some elusive goal or to make the curve on their graphs look a bit smoother.

Good luck starting from the bottom again. There’s no one to blame but yourself for failing to read the room.”

--Anonymous Reddit User, June 2029

***

I couldn’t decide how I was feeling.

Parts of me that I didn’t know could tingle were tingling, and I had sore muscles across my everything. Not a bad sore, but the sort from exercising a lot, which was probably fair.

I decided, after a moment’s reflection, that what I was feeling could best be described as ‘good.’ I was feeling really good.

A giggle escaped, one that was soon echoed by the person laying down next to me.

Lucy shifted a bit, then brought her head to rest on my stomach. “That was...”

“Yeah,” I agreed as I continued to stare at the ceiling. Eventually I got enough energy to bring a hand down and started to brush it through Lucy’s hair, her very sweaty hair.

“I didn’t know I could do that so many times,” Lucy said.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sore.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

We weren’t alone on the bed. There was also a very rumpled and probably unsanitary pile of blankets and pillows spread around here and there, and more importantly there was a machine.

It was a horrifying machine, like something out of some madwoman’s worst nightmares. It was eldritch and tentacled, and it looked wet and almost alive.

It was the best hundred points I have ever spent, even if it had made me question my own sanity a few times. I wasn’t even sure what time it was anymore. For all I knew a day could have passed. The details were certainly hazy enough.

Shifting my hips a little, I got into a slightly more comfortable position where Lucy’s head didn’t dig into my stomach quite so much. “That was something,” I said.

“It was,” Lucy said. “Think we can go at it again?”

I considered that for a moment. “The mind is willing, but the flesh is... not.”

She snorted, the motion bouncing her head up atop me. “Yeah.”

I smiled and continued to run my hands through Lucy’s hair, content to do nothing but that for the rest of my life if need be.

And then some jerk knocked at the door. “Hey, are you two done fucking?” Junior asked.

“Urgh,” was the most coherent response I could manage.

“I sure hope so, because there are people here for Cat. Like, lots of them. And some androids too. Shit’s annoying.”

“Tell them to go away,” I called back.

“Yeah, I tried that, you moron,” Junior said. “They’re real insistent. Some of them look important-like and they won’t fucking leave.”

I sighed. I didn’t want to leave. This place was a happy place and outside of this place wasn’t. “Tell Dumbass to shoo them away.”

“Yeah, no,” Junior said. “Look, I’m coming in. Some of the kittens are getting scared and it’s annoying.”

“Oh shit,” Lucy said as she scrambled up and off me with a sudden burst of energy. I did the same, looking for my clothes only to find that I’d left everything on the ground in a trail leading into the en-suite bathroom.

The door clicked open just as Lucy and I bumped into each other by the base of the bed.

Our friendly eldritch tentacle machine seemed to notice the excitation because it started wiggling around too, especially when the door handle wobbled a bit.

Three very confusing minutes later I was slipping out into the corridor outside our room while doing up my belt. I didn’t actually have a shirt, just the autoloader jacket, and despite having taken a very thorough and long shower with Lucy, I knew that I smelled a little.

I’d have to take another once things were dealt with.

The tentacle machine could join too.

“Where’re these assholes?” I asked Junior who looked exceptionally unimpressed by me and my antics. Her nose wrinkled up and she gestured down the corridor a ways.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“They’re by the entrance. The kittens are all off in their rooms. I knocked earlier, but you didn't reply, just made these weird ass donkey noises.”

I felt some warmth gathering in my cheeks and looked past her and towards the entrance. “Right,” I said. “I’ll go see what they want, I guess.”

I left Whisper in the bedroom with Lucy, which was probably for the best. That meant that all the armament I had was my Trench Maker, a shoulder mounted railgun and a plasma-firing gun on the other shoulder. And a tail with a thagomizer.

That... was probably enough to convince some less wholesome people to vacate the area.

I tugged my jacket on straighter and stomped out towards the living room and kitchen area. What I found there were three groups of people.

The first were a pair of serious looking men in black suits, standing ramrod straight and wearing sunglasses indoors. The second were also wearing suits, but these were patterned and a bit more colourful. They were smiling as if their cheeks were tacked in place that way. And the third were a pair of soldiers in dress uniforms with little maple leafs on their shoulders.

The three groups all elected to talk at the same time, a cacophony of noise that I couldn’t make heads or tails of.

They seemed to catch on that if they all talked at once, they wouldn’t be making much sense, but instead of taking their time they turned onto each other and started bickering between each other.

It was like something out of a particularly unfunny comedy sketch.

“Okay, everyone shut up,” I said.

I was still getting used to the idea that people respected me, adults especially, but it was incredibly amusing to see adults snapping their mouths closed just because I’d told them to. “You, with the shades. Who are you?” I pointed to the guy in the middle of the group in black suits, the one that looked in charge.

“Miss Leblanc, we are an organization charged with the protection of American assets. Upon seeing that you became a Samurai we thought it appropriate to inform you that, were you so willing, our organization could assist you in coming to your own an--”

I stopped him with a raised hand. “Just send me a fucking Email. Now who are you guys?” I asked the next bunch.

They all started talking over each other, and I could feel my post coital bliss draining away as they prattled on.

“One at a time, you fuckwits,” I said.

As it turned out, all of them were representatives of one corporation or another, each one of the eager and excited to sign me on and use my likeness to promote... everything from cereals to soft drugs and one sleezy guy said that they mostly dealt in deep fake pornography.

“Right, right I’ve heard enough, please kindly fuck off. If I want something I’ll contact you, not the other way around.”

Some of them started to protest, but Myalis, being the best, had my railgun slide out over my shoulder and it started making a deep ominous hum.

“And who’re you lot?” I asked the soldiers.

“We’re representatives of the Canadian Armed Forces, ma’am,” the one with the more elaborate medals said.

“Aren’t you guys a joke?” I asked.

“No ma’am,” he said without so much as twitching.

Well, at least they were polite. “And you want me to join up? Become private Leblanc?”

He shook his head. “Nothing of the sort. We merely wished to both thank you for your efforts yesterday and extend an offer to you. If you ever wish to join the forces there’s a place for you. We will send a recruitment package to your email address, if you wish.”

Real polite, I like it. “You know what, sure,” I said.

I didn’t intend to join, but their uniforms looked nice and I bet I could find use for one. Lucy did always say that she liked women in tight uniforms. They saluted my way and made for the exit, only to be blocked as someone shoved past them.

I stared at the newcomer, initially pissed at the gall, then I recognized them, or rather, her. Deus Ex looked on the wrong side of tired, but her armour was impeccable and so clean it could have come fresh off the alien presses. She didn’t have her whole hover system with her, probably because it wouldn’t fit inside any normal building, but she did have a few things strapped to her hips that looked like they might be dangerous.

“Stray Cat,” she said. “We need to talk.”

***