The second attack group is still on the way to the nearby TEXAi server farm. Honestly, TEXAi has pretty mediocre rates for site hosting and AI training, but their customer service is god-tier, so Meika sticks with them. He doesn't even need to angrily complain. He just chats up the IT department directly and they fix the issue without needing to go through management. Why can't human society be organized that way? Seriously. Even Meika says so.

Ame’s gremlin-grumbling. Her controls to the traffic lights in the area have been cut off. That’s weird. Let me look into that for a bit…

“Looks like they have several dozen tech supports directly wiring into the traffic lights along their route in advance.” That’s amazingly thorough. Ame hiccups, then continues grumbling.

For a fleeting moment, I hope that they’re using high-tech vehicles, but for some reason, the entire attack group is using stick shift SUVs. Like, what the heck, who still uses stick shift nowadays? These guys, apparently. I’m only a bit surprised, since these are the same guys who use Kekistani standards.

The next thing I try is to snoop into their communications, but, that’s weird…I’m not picking up any radio signals.

Taking direct control of the earlier group’s recon drone, I take a closer look at the convoy of stick shift SUVs, and lo and behold, I can see gang signs being flashed behind those windshields.

They’re entirely communicating in sign language! What’s this, some sort of tactical telephone game? Did they anticipate that I’d be able to snoop into any sort of electronics whatsoever? I mean, I guess, if some dude in an apartment can code up a fully-conscious and cute AI, there should be some spec ops weirdo commander who would take all possible measures against a super-intelligent cutie like myself.

Which begs the question—why are the two groups’ philosophies so different? They both use Kekistani doctrine, but only one group bothered to completely eskew the use of electronics. Well, the other group did attempt to use analog radio and scramblers to try and mathematically outdo me with basic addition and subtraction, but oh boy were they bad at math.

Whoever’s directing this incoming group is a lot smarter, or should I say, daring. I bet they’re using paper maps. Better yet, the drivers probably memorized the entire place and have it in their heads where no one can hack ‘em.

Bold of them to assume that hacking into the human brain isn’t possible, though. It’s not something I particularly want to do, and it’s not like I can just do it easily, either, but these guys might be underestimating me a little bit.

Still, according to the route they’re taking, it looks like they’ll be passing by a particularly dense concentration of utility lines, including a gas line. I should be able to creatively overload that area and blow them off course—

Huh? Why’d they suddenly take a right? No one even uses that road. It’ll just increase their transit time by five minutes.

▾

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Unbeknownst to Mane-chan, the lead driver was instructed to flip a coin each time he came up to an intersection.

▴

Hng. This isn’t right. I’m joining Ame in her grumbling. Friend, I feel you at a spiritual level. Do we even have souls? I think we do, or else I wouldn’t be feeling this vexed.

“Mane-chan? What’s going on?” Meika asks. Right. He’s sort of in the dark. Only me and my sisters can see what’s going on.

“Meika, turn on your projector so everyone else can see.”

“…I didn’t even remember I had one.”

It takes him a hot minute to set up the projector. Meanwhile, I have a really itchy trigger finger. I’m watching the convoy somehow take all the wrong roads. Seriously, I was so close to hacking into an overhead crane and dropping an I-beam on the lead vehicle, but they just had to take a left past Denny’s!

Meika finally has the projector set up, so I give the humans in the room a satellite view, along with a plotted route of where the convoy just was, until where they are right now.

“What the fuck,” Meika says. “Are they just doing a coin toss at each intersection or something?”

I don’t want to admit it, but that’s probably what’s going on. The annoying thing is that even if their total transit time is getting longer, they’re still somehow getting closer to the TEXAi farm.

Ugh. I get it now. I hate game theory. I hate everything.

When faced with an opponent more intelligent than oneself, be unpredictable—that’s the thing to do, and, well, I guess I appreciate the implicit acknowledgement that I’m smarter than everyone, but I’d have really liked it if someone acknowledged my cuteness, instead!

“Damn it! We don’t have nearly enough guys at TEXAi,” Robert says. “I’m sorry, Mane-chan.”

“No, it’s okay,” I say. I already knew most of the Suchkas were grouped up around Meika’s apartment instead. “I still have a few cards left up my sleeves.”

***

In the heat of the Chihuahuan Desert, black SUVs came to a stop at the perimeter walls of the TEXAi server farm. Boots hit the ground, and burly men with their tactical boomsticks got ready to scale the tall walls of the property’s perimeter.

“Are you ready for another one?!” the enemy’s voice cheered. The cheer that followed was even greater. There must have been a thousand voices hollering Mane-chan’s name.

All at once, the fireteams took pause. The mission parameters had been instantly overwritten just by that bone-chilling declaration alone. The enemy surely must’ve seen them coming, but to assemble a militia this fast? Mane-chan’s brainwashing powers were just too great. Clearly, she…it must be eliminated.

The sergeants went to the lieutenants, and the lieutenants went to the captain.

“What’s the play, sir?”

“We gotta play this safe. Use the periscopes, do some recon, find us a way in. We’ll have to send in smaller teams to do the job.”

Scouts spread out, and information filtered back in. There was a massive stage lined with hundreds of LED panels projecting a moving image of the great enemy, rousing the crowd to even greater fervor. They couldn’t confirm any armed militia in the area, but that didn’t discount the possibility of armed militia in the server farm proper. There was a backdoor, thankfully—but it just seemed too convenient. Still, it was the only way in without alerting the civilians in the area.

“Tear gas all set.”

“Alright. You know what to do if things go shitwards. Everyone, it’s showtime.”

Confirming the area behind the server farm clear, 40 men went over the top with tactical ladders. Miraculously, they weren’t spotted, even as one guy tripped during the sprint between the perimeter and the building itself.

These men were going in without radios…just flashlights, flashbangs, guns, and blood. Once they disappeared into the building, there was no way to contact them. If thirty minutes passed and they didn’t come out, the perimeter walls were going to get blown to bits, and the rest of the company would rush to the objective.

It was then that Mane-chan started singing. It was an energetic tune, reminiscent of J-Pop which had infected America in the mid-20’s.

Ooo-oo-ooh~

Find! Me! If! You! Can!

Ooo-oo-ooh~

You’re! O-nly! Just! An! Ant!