Don’t bother planning for eliminating an Antithesis incursion in the Underlake. There’s no way that they will be able to get down there. It’s completely sealed, and it could never happen.
Besides, we's have to bring in additional personnel, and we don’t want external PMC’s to know the details of our operations. I don’t have the personnel we would need to plan for an incursion, and we don’t have a Samurai on staff to pick up the slack. It’s just not worth it. If I hear you talk about this again, there will be consequences. You are wasting man-hours on something which will never happen. It’s impossible.
Focus on riot prevention, like you were instructed.
* CWM Vice President of Security Operations, Rick Baker, to upper management personnel, during the construction of the Underlake.
Luke
Targets Eliminated!
Reward... 25 points!
Current points: 56!
More bodies packed the doorway, starting to form a wall. Luke could hear noises coming from outside, as more Seven-afflicted former people tried to get to him.
“Z, get up! I need your help!” Luke yelled, as he thumbed the magazine release on the ancient pistol he held. “Grab that metal SMG by your leg. I’ve got ammo for it and this gun in the back room. Quickly!”
Luke practiced marksmanship regularly in Meshspace, and occasionally in the real world, although getting the chemicals necessary to produce smokeless powder was expensive and difficult. Luckily, at such a short range, hitting a minimally mobile zombie in the head was relatively easy. He’d only missed twice.
As he loaded his second of three magazines into the ancient Colt and thumbed down the slide release, his friend stumbled through the back door to look for the supplies they’d need. “Holy shit, Luke. What the fuck is going on?”
“The fucking aliens are here. Model Sevens. Zombies. They got the rest of your crew. I’m sorry.” Luke yelled back, lining up the sights again on yet another Seven moving towards the door. “We can get out through the roof hatch in the back. But you need to grab my shit and load it into my duffel. We’re not coming back. I’m blowing the self destruct once we’re gone.”
Z yelled from the back room, “What’s the code for your safe?”
Luke replied, “11920, then the pound sign. Hash, for you kids. Sorry.”
“Got it. Okay, give me five minutes.”
Luke shot another walking corpse in the head as it clumsily tried to climb over the bodies of its friends. “Intayis, I need options for what I do when I leave. How does this Samurai shit work?”
Lucas, you amass points by destroying Antithesis models. Those points can be spent to unlock catalogs, which contain items such as weapons, armor, explosive devices, medical care, or far more exotic supplies. There are millions of catalogs. Did you have something in mind?
“I’ve got two guns. Those will work for now. But I need to be able to purchase ammunition, and I need something to make things uncomfortable for these aliens when we leave.” Luke said softly, as he aimed into the top of another zombie’s head as it moved between the gap and the ceiling.
Targets Eliminated!
Reward... 10 points!
Current points: 66!
You are now at sixty-six points. Most Tier 1 catalogs cost fifty points, although some more expansive catalogs cost up to one hundred and twenty five. Where would you like to start?
“I need bombs. Something to melt aliens, something to burn aliens, something to draw them in, and something to quickly turn them into pulp. Is there a catalog which can do that?”
Yes. I would suggest a somewhat popular catalog utilized by Samurai. Class I Esoteric Single-Use Explosive Devices. It is only fifty points.
“Perfect. I’ll want something to draw them in, and then something to turn everything in this old building into mulch, remote detonated. Just make it happen."
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Luke shot three more aliens in the head, bringing his points total up to 81 and his magazine down to three shots, while completely blocking the airlock doorway. He took a breather, and saw new notifications scroll by.
Targets Eliminated!
Reward... 15 points!
Current points: 81!
New Purchase: Class I Esoteric Single-Use Explosive Devices
Points reduced to… 31!
New Purchase: Mark I Concussive Satchel Charge!
Points reduced to… 21!
New Purchase: Mark I Audio-Scent Lure!
Points reduced to… 16!
Z walked back into the room, duffel in hand, to see two small boxes materialize from nowhere and clatter onto the ground. He stared. “Uhh. Luke?”
“Yeah, Z?”
“Are you a wizard?”
“Nope. But apparently, my old ass is the old ass these weird aliens found to save the day. Don’t worry, Captain Arthritis is here to rescue you, fair maid. That’s my Samurai name, ya know.”
A voice spoke insistently from Luke’s viewscreen. Lucas, you were selected based on your actions, proximity to the Antithesis threat, and your anticipated ability to adapt to the changes. And you don’t have arthritis any longer. The nano-regenerative suite took care of that.
Luke palmed his face with his left hand. “And that’s Intayis.”
Zim grinned. “And you said you’d never get married. Now you’ve got a cute chick living in your head. Intayis, are you sure you want to shack up with this crusty old booger?”
I’m quite sure. Although, I will state to you both that I am observing additional Antithesis closing on your location. We should vacate the area.
Luke removed the partially spent magazine, stuck it back in the magazine pouch, then slammed a full one home. “Got it. Okay, Z. Out through the roof. You’re riding shotgun. We’re driving Betsy back to The Compound. Call the gang leaders and ask them to meet us there. I’ll call the guys over in the Market and ask the same.”
Zim grinned a sardonic smile and saluted. “Got it, Saint Luke the Almighty, and Intayis the brain worm. I’ll meet you up top.”
Luke opened the two containers. One contained a large brick of what looked like plastic explosive with a simple detonator wedged into the top of it. The other, a small sphere with some hand controls. Easy enough.
He moved into the back room, hit the activation button on the sphere, then tossed it under the bed. Child-like whimpering noises started coming from underneath his bed. Luke then activated the satchel charge, which displayed “Pairing successful” on its small, dot matrix screen.
“Intayis, can you blow the satchel at the best time? I want to catch as many of these things as possible.” He could hear the aliens working to get through the wall of bodies in the airlock. Luke guessed it would be a few minutes before the aliens got inside. He’d be long gone by then.
I can do that. I’ll monitor your security camera feeds and detonate at the proper time.
“Thanks. Let’s blow this joint.” With Mind Krank still rolling through his system, it was easy to pull himself up through the rarely-used roof hatch. What he saw up there was not encouraging.
Hundreds of Model Sevens were moving towards the front end of the building. The pile of three corpses still burned merrily in front of his shop, and the zombies gave them a wide berth. Luke looked up towards the “sky,” the acrylic ceiling of the Underlake, where a muted glow led to a soft light suffusing the area. Hundreds of conical concrete pillars reached up towards that false sky like teeth of the abused Earth, holding up their world. Nothing moved above, thankfully.
Moving towards the back of the building, Luke saw it was clear. Zim had already jumped down - it was barely more than a couple meters from the roof to the ground - and was pulling himself into the passenger seat of Betsy.
Jumping down, Luke pulled himself into the driver’s seat, and started up the old pickup. Betsy had begun her life in 2025, as one of the early generation electric pickups sold in the old United States. At some point in the 2040’s, life on the ground had become too much, and she’d rolled over. All the airbags had deployed, the roof had crumpled in, and the bed was twisted slightly, so the owners had junked her, and she’d made her way into the Underlake.
But Luke saw that Betsy was a good old lady, so he had cut off her truck bed, sawed off the roof supports, and welded a flat block of steel to the frame. Now, Betsy was an open-topped flat bed truck. No rain in the Underlake means that a roof is just for cosmetics or privacy.
Reaching into the center console, Luke grabbed a pair of goggles and tossed one to Zim. “You’re on shotgun, pipsqueak. Now, let’s get out of here. Intayis, give me some incendiaries. If you think that the aliens are coming from the Pits, I’m going to light some on fire on my way up North. And, if you can get The General on the line, I’d appreciate it. We’re going to need to let him know the whole Underlake is going to be hiding behind his walls soon. I’m sure the old bastard is just going to love hearing about how right he was, and how we’re all in need of his help.”
Calling now. Also uploading an optimal route into your navigation system. And there’s a box of basic incendiaries on your right. They are a basic, time-delayed incendiary. Hit the button on the top, and five seconds later, they’ll detonate.
New Purchase: Firecrackers, Box of 20
Points reduced to… 6!
Feeling like a million credits in a way only special alien drugs could make him, Luke slammed the gear selector down into drive and put his foot to the floor. The old truck whizzed off into the gloom, leaving behind Luke’s shop for the last time.