Chapter Twenty-Nine - The Popo
“Most inner-city police forces can be divided into four broad categories. These might overlap, being controlled by the same corporations, or they might be their own entities. This depends on the city, or even the area within a city.
Detectives: charged with solving crimes in the way best suited for the entity they work for.
Beat Cops: charged with keeping the peace and solving low-level disputes.
Max Tactical: charged with high-stakes, high-risk situations. Often similar to mercenaries or paramilitary groups in appearance, equipment, and policy.
Traffic: charged with keeping the peace in the air and on the roads.
Knowing how to approach each of these is what this pamphlet aims to teach you!”
--A Good Citizen’s Guide to Your Armed Protectors! 2023
***
“Uh, ma’am?”
I opened my eyes and looked around. It was hard to see, on account of the wall of water splashing against my front with enough pressure to send a normal, non-power-armoured person flying back.
I knew I wasn’t the only one benefiting from the splashing water. The civilians we’d saved took turns standing nearby, allowing the spray to wash off some of the grime. It left them wet and even more bedraggled than they had been, but at least they were clean. Gomorrah had used the hydrant water to clean herself off too. I think her suit was just as hydrophobic as my own.
I was just standing there because there was something very enjoyable about the noise and feel of so much water beating against me.
“Ma’am?”
I sighed and turned to the man calling out for me. A police officer, with a blue uniform on and white body armour over his chest, legs, and arms, made of hard plastic and likely reinforced enough to take a low-calibre shot or two.
A beat cop. The sort with an uncovered face and who carried no more than a handgun. Not a tactical police officer, or a detective; just a normal, almost-friendly face that would only beat up minorities, the homeless, and likely his wife.
Stepping to the side, I let the water move past to bathe the sidewalk and clean it off for the first time since... likely forever. “Yes?” I asked as I dripped water like a cat pulled out of a tub.
The officer shifted on the spot. His trousers were wet up to the shins. “We wanted some direction, ma’am,” he said with a gesture behind him.
The side of the street was a busy place today. Some six or so paramedic vans were parked half-onto the sidewalk, their large turbines humming as they idled, and the auto-turrets mounted above them scanned the street for potential threats.
The police cars were parked in a semi-circle around the area, lights strobing red and blue and sirens blaring with the occasional pause for an audio advertisement. The few hobos hanging around the street were long gone. This many cops in one place was bad for their business.
The civilians we’d liberated were being looked over by some EMTs. Blood pressure was being taken, skin swabs, maybe blood samples to check for whatever they’d caught while down in the sewers. Basically, the EMTs were running every test they could without bringing anyone back to a proper hospital.
Likely for the best.
“We’ve secured the perimeter, ma’am,” the officer said. “The other, ah, samurai is communicating with the EMTs. I thought we could discuss things with you.”
I winced. Now was the part where they’d ask if I had anti-crime insurance or the like. We were the ones to call the police, so we were responsible for their wages. “Alright, what’s up?”
“We have the addresses of most of the, ah, civilians. Some of them don’t have homes on record, but we obtained the locations where they wish to be dropped off. We’re ready to set out with the first batch. Ah, we don’t have enough squad cars to bring all of them back in one trip. We might have to split the group in two and leave a few cars behind as protection while we bring the first batch home.”
“Oh,” I said. “Yeah, that sounds reasonable. Gomorrah and I will be around for another few minutes, so I doubt anyone will try anything. We might be going back down soon.”
“Are there more civilians down there?” he asked. “If you don’t mind the question, that is.”
“Yeah, another group—a bit bigger than this one, I think.”
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“In that case, if you call us ahead of time, we can arrange for transportation to be there. Given enough notice, we can ensure that there will be enough cars to bring everyone back home safely.”
I nodded, slowly. “Thanks, you’re being real helpful,” I said.
“Anything for one of our fine city’s samurai,” he said. “I’ll be organizing things here. If you have any questions, feel free to contact me, or if you wish, the home office. The operators know to expect your call and give it the highest priority.” He saluted me, then jogged back to where the rest of the cars were waiting.
I couldn’t get over the absolute weirdness of talking to a cop and them not being an absolute jackass. It was like waking up to discover that the sky was, and always had been, yellow.
“Fucking strange shit,” I muttered as I walked over to where Gomorrah was standing. She was talking to a paramedic, but the conversation ended as I arrived. “Feeling cleaner?” she asked.
“Barely,” I said. “I don’t think there are enough showers in the world for that. But I’ll live with it. How about you? Done here?”
“I am,” she said. “Most of the people we pulled out of there had some sort of infection. Never the same twice. They’ll need to burn their clothes and maybe take a few long showers, but for the most part, they should be okay.”
“That’s good to hear,” I said. I noticed Shaun climbing into the front passenger seat of a squad car, the officers all smiling as they laid down plastic sheets onto their seats. “I guess calling the cops was the right move.”
“They’re not the same when you’re in a different part of the hierarchy,” Gomorrah said.
“Tell me about it. So, we’re diving back down?”
She sighed. “We are. Franny, Raccoon, how are you two holding up?”
“We’re fine,” Franny said. “Though I wouldn’t mind standing and taking a walk.”
“You’re not in a very safe location,” Gomorrah said. “And I doubt that the Sewer Dragons failed to notice the Fury after this much time. There are drinks in the middle console. And some food.”
“Yeah, this food is kickass,” Rac said. “But I’m going to need to use a washroom sooner or later, you know?”
“Ah,” Gomorrah said.
“Is your awesome car not equipped with an in-built bathroom?” I asked.
She smacked me in the stomach with the back of her hand. “Don’t be an idiot, Cat. I can have the Fury move. There has to be a restaurant or a gas station somewhere in the area.”
“Right, that’ll give Franny her walk too,” I said. “Stick together, don’t get kidnapped, and... the Fury is armed, right?”
“Obviously.”
“Then let the Fury do any shooting if it comes to that,” I said. “We’ll be diving back down into the shithole again.”
“You’re going to find that Doc Hack guy?” Rac asked.
“That’s the plan,” I said. “He seems linked to everything else, somehow. I’m hoping it won’t be too hard to figure out where he’s hiding.”
“Atyacus has a location for his base,” Gomorrah said. “A few of the Sewer Dragons we took out had it marked on their augs.”
Not the best information security, that, but I suppose it made sense. They had so many other things keeping their home under the city safe that hiding things probably felt like overkill to them. Myalis added the location to my own map, a red box a few blocks away and maybe six floors down from ground level.
“Can we reach that from above?” I asked. “Instead of navigating through the sewers again.”
“We can,” Gomorrah said. “Fancy a bit of a walk?”
“I’d rather walk here than in the sewers again. In fact, I think I’ve spent enough time in the sewers that I’m good for the rest of my life.”
“We could ride along with the police. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”
“And have every cop watcher in the neighbourhood tell the Dragons we’re coming? Nah, let’s walk over. No one will pay attention to a single person walking on street level.”
“Going invisible on me again?”
I shrugged, then flickered away from visibility. “It makes things easier.”
Gomorrah started walking along the sidewalk, undisturbed by any of the cops or the EMTs who were busy wrapping things up.
It felt as if we needed some background music. I bet there were samurai out there who had that sort of thing all figured out. Maybe Cause Player? It sounded like something he’d do.
***