《Carpe Momentum (an SCS Fanfic)》


 Arc 1, Chapter 1 -- Just a moment

    It only takes a moment to make a change: to spare a life or to ruin it.


    Traffic was slow, but making progress in the afternoon rush hour through downtown Portland. I wondered whether I needed to call ahead to the shooting range where I worked. If the traffic slowed any more, I would get stuck on a bridge over the Columbia. I decided to wait a while longer, since it might clear up.


    I¡¯d been playing pass and pass again with a school bus for several blocks, and the children¡¯s faces pressed into the glass and waved as I was passed again. I even waved back when it was safe. They must have been on their way back from some outing.


    The road squeezed into a narrow spot between two quad-block skyscrapers when, ahead and across the road, the beast crashed through a window and onto the street. Larger than my two-door commuter and covered with rust-colored plates, I recognized the Model Six tank-type alien. Traffic swerved left and right like water, parting around a boulder as the alien turned. I saw it lock eyes on the bus and gather itself to leap at it.


    The bus, running on autopilot, was slowing down. Its emergency response program was making exactly the wrong choice at this time.


    I only had a moment to decide, a choice so easy it didn¡¯t feel like one at all. I threw a command at my own car¡¯s computer, switching from guided mode to full manual. That was followed up with two more, sending the emergency override and collision avoidance software into a spiral as I hammered the accelerator. Half a ton of alien flesh met a little less in metal and plastic as I rammed the beast, catching it before it could hit the nearly-stopped bus.


    The world turned white as air cushions exploded before me in an instant of pillowy protection. One of the doglike Model Threes slammed into the driver-side door, and more cushiony explosions joined, this time from the door beside me.


    I sent a signal, and my seatbelt was released, letting me scramble out the passenger door. A glance ahead showed that the Model Six was moving but not standing yet. I should have known it would be able to survive the hit.


    I could hear claws from the smaller alien as it scrambled up onto the roof. Somehow, in the collision, my rear passenger seat had shattered, probably due to the crumple zones deciding I needed a new car. This was not going to help my insurance rates. On the other hand, it let me reach in and grab my P5-AT light attack rifle out of my kit. I looked up to see the Model Three looking around for someone to devour.


    For the first time in my life, I faced a live antithesis, one of the alien plant monsters. As I raised my weapon, I was once again hit by the very strangeness of the aliens. It lunged for me. I fell back onto my ass as I switched the rifle to full auto. The unbraced weapon jerked in my hand, and the Model Three fell despite half of the burst missing. ¡°Aim, idiot. Aim first, then shoot.¡± I felt my face burn in embarrassment over the undisciplined spray. However, it did give me the time to stand and cradle the weapon properly.


    Over my car¡¯s hood, I saw four of them running through the traffic or trying to break into stopped cars. I¡¯d grown up knowing that the aliens were trying to invade Earth. Being the child of generations of military vets, there was no way I could avoid the tales of the antithesis in their myriad forms. But while they were a constant threat, they had always been in the background for me. Attacks were something that happened to people who knew people I knew or that appeared on the news. I was acutely aware of how very real the situation was. Antithesis, here.


    My hands were shaking, whether from fear or adrenaline wasn¡¯t clear. But I still stood between the aliens and the kids on that bus. I hesitated, unsure if I should draw attention to myself.


    The sounds of the street were strangely off-balance. Only human sounds broke the silence: people screaming, car alarms going off, and the muffled yells of people cowering in their cars. In the media, attacks by the beasts were filled with growling, howling, or barking. In reality, they were stone-quiet. A few models would make slight sounds. The Model Six could, but the Model Threes never issued a peep. It added to the surreality of them being here in the middle of town.


    One, frustrated at not getting through the window at a passenger, turned its face towards me. The tri-part mouth opened beneath its uncanny eye-over-eye face. Officially called a Model Three, they had a bunch of names, some of them pure media hype. I preferred how the Cascadia Military used an M-Number designation, or even simply used the number at times. Shorter names for when talking faster could save the lives of teammates or civilians. The M-3 gathered its legs underneath it and jumped in my direction.


    Years of training on the range kicked in as I switched to single-shot on my rifle. I took a hair longer to center my sights on the head before squeezing the trigger. The bullet landed right between the eyes, and the corpse fell between two cars, out of sight.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    I quickly shifted to another M-3 that was clawing at a windshield. One shot, and I moved on to the other two M-3s, killing each in turn.


    In my so-called smart glasses, alert warnings flashed from the net, phone, and other emergency systems. They blocked my vision, so I flicked them away with a thought, unread.


    The sound of rending metal drew my attention to the tank-like M-6 I had run into. It was standing again, though leaning to the side and favoring the two nearest front legs. I shot it five times, each shot finding a different gap in the armor. Three of the shots were not clean entries, sparking on the plates as they slipped through, but I figured they would still help; internal ricochets spread out the damage. After the last, the light 9mm rounds finally seemed to find something vital, and the beast died.


    I felt a strange chill in the back of my head but ignored it to concentrate on the battle. Since there weren¡¯t any more antithesis in sight, I stole some seconds to grab the rest of my tactical gear and shove it on.


    It wasn¡¯t much¡ªa chest plate with a couple of attached magazines and two .45 cal automatic pistols in shoulder holsters. And I switched to my combat glasses.


    I¡¯d wanted to be in the armed forces since I was a child, and I trained for it extensively. But they wouldn¡¯t take me, nor would any of the decent private military corporations. Neither the PMCs nor the military would accept a person who did not have augs.


    Augs, properly called Ocular Augmentations, allowed people to send and receive signals for sight and sound from computers directly via a virtual screen input straight to the ocular nerve. About one in fifty thousand people were not compatible with the augs, including me. Fortunately, I could send commands out, or I would be a complete pariah. The fact that I could control computers more precisely than most with augs didn¡¯t matter. I was a naught, and there was nothing that could change that.


    It was hard to blame them. Modern military tactics rely heavily on teamwork and split-second coordination. It also relied on close integration with your gear. From ammo counts to your teammates position, there was so much data that an aug was required to display it all.


    My workaround was to use data glasses¡ªone pair for daily wear and another for combat. The combat ones were bulkier upgrades from my daily wear, with a better screen resolution, but it was still poor. Because of the poor resolution, you could only fit a tenth of the data you could get on most augments, plus the vulnerability of losing them in a bad hit.


    It was theoretically possible to increase the resolution, but without sufficient market share, no corporation was going to spend billions on a low-cost design. In other words, only the super-rich could afford glasses with better data displays, which had to be custom-made. Some data was better than none, and I put on the glasses I had.


    When I came around the school bus, a man was standing by the front door of the vehicle, looking around incoherently. He held a tiny pistol in his hand, which he waved around dangerously. I walked up to him and lifted his hand, so he wouldn¡¯t accidentally shoot me. ¡°Did anybody get hurt?¡±


    The man blinked at me with a blank stare. I repeated my question. From inside, a smaller woman replied. ¡°No, but the damn bus won¡¯t move!¡± She was an older woman with plenty of wrinkles and a scowl that did not fit well with her laugh lines.


    ¡°Let me see what I can do,¡± I replied. Before I could climb on board the bus, a wave of heat and pressure washed over my head, pressing on both sides, above and behind my temples. I shook my head, and it faded.


    At the driver¡¯s seat, I pulled out a tablet from my pant¡¯s side pocket and sent commands to it, linking to the bus¡¯s primitive programming. A wave of ads and virus warnings flashed over the tablet until my custom-installed anti-ware blocked it all. After sending commands to the bus for a minute, I finally found a diagnostic response code that made sense. I passed by the school kids as I returned to where the old lady and the man were still milling around.


    ¡°The bus isn¡¯t going anywhere. The server has shut it down, probably due to wherever those anthesis came from. We¡¯ll have to get the kids somewhere safe.¡±


    The man, probably either the driver or an administrator by the dress and cluelessness, started to hyperventilate. ¡°Get it together!¡± the old lady yelled at him. ¡°We can¡¯t let the kids see us in a panic, or they will as well. We¡¯re safe. Concentrate on that and the next step, which is getting the children out of here.¡± She turned to me. ¡°Mister Gunman, do you know where we can take them?¡±


    I looked around. We were sandwiched between two tall buildings, each of them an edifice of steel, concrete, and glass, spanning multiple city blocks. Between them, the sky was that blinding white-grey common between storms, not the red that would indicate a full, broadscale incursion.


    I looked over the bus¡¯s passengers, seeing only small children and a couple near the low teens. Walking the length of the buildings did not seem like a good idea with only two adults wrangling the children. And the building that the antithesis had come out of was not an option without a way to know how far the infestation had spread. That left the other side of the road.


    I looked upwards and was happy to see that there was only one sky bridge between the two buildings. There was a large storefront facing us. I pointed with my rifle and shot out the glass door. ¡°Start with going in there.¡± I yelled over the building¡¯s alarm. ¡°See if you can get someone in there to close up the sky bridge. Call for help, but keep going too. There should be a shelter in there somewhere.¡± By law, every building over a certain size had to have at least one Antithesis shelter, a public panic room for situations like this. The quality of the protection varied, corporate short cuts being a fact of life, but some shelter was better than none.


    ¡°And where will you be?¡± Mr. Administrator finally found his voice.


    I pointed to the hole in the other building. ¡°Someone has to hold the gap,¡± I said.

 Arc 1, Chapter 2 -- Vanguard

    There has always been some kind of information divide. First it was due to Latin, then literacy. Later on, it was computers, and then phones. Now you are worried about the sliver of people who are incompatible with neural uplinks?


    Your sixteen percent rejection rate leaves enough people that the market will bear our costs. The product is powerful enough that it would be criminal to hold it back from the populace. They¡¯re going to eat this up.


    You can fix the flaw as we ramp up or in the upgraded product.


    Until then, the rest can get by well enough with other devices. Phones and tablets have been perfected for years and are cheap. They are perfectly fine alternatives, which is more than the illiterate can say.


    -- Internal email from Marsha Clemenson, Clarktech VP of Marketing, to their Chief of Research and Chief of Production over a flaw in the production lines.


    ***


    I paused with my hand on the trunk of my car and took a deep breath. I¡¯d said that I would hold off the antithesis so glibly, but could I really do it? I knew that part of that was bravado. A front of confidence so the children wouldn¡¯t be scared and follow their teachers. Now, I had to live up to that promise.


    I looked around and realized that all the people who could have fled had. There wasn¡¯t anyone else who would protect the children. My eye landed on one of the M-3s that I¡¯d killed. Once I¡¯d gotten over the shock, it was the same as the combat simulations at work. I had trained for this. I¡¯d trained others for this. I¡¯d wanted to stand in the gap, and now it was time to prove that the training worked. I took another breath and popped the trunk.


    I pulled out a belt with more pouches, a small backpack, and a helmet. From the backpack, I pulled out some rounds and refilled my rifle¡¯s magazine. I¡¯d had the barrel of my personal P5-AT lengthened for greater accuracy. It made for a good instruction weapon because it was popular. A third of our customers were either using it or had one at home. Plus, the ammo was cheap and in ready supply. For hunting antithesis, I wished I had something heavier, but it was the best weapon I had with me.


    The antithesis had burst through a plate glass window, and the shards crunched underfoot. I knew that the antithesis would be coming from a single point, a hive where they were grown. From there, they would radiate out. In open land, that meant a lumpy circle where stronger groups pushed farthest out like branches. Here in the middle of an urban metropolis where their options were more restricted, that behavior changed some. The groups would tend to follow each other until they found a way to spread out and gather materials.


    I needed to find the choke point between the hive and here and hold it until help arrived. A trail of blood led to a broad staircase going down around an enclosed elevator shaft. The opening had a thick railing made of stonework, topped with a planter.


    The antithesis had uprooted the plants, only to spread them over the floor. The aliens wanted organic material. Bodies were ideal, but like any proper cannibal, plants would work, but plastic plants didn¡¯t count. As quietly as I could, I worked my way down the stairs.


    I descended two flights and half another before I could see the lower level. At the base of the stair, another blood smear pointed ahead and slightly to the right, across the open floor plan. Waves of racks and displays formed an ocean of merchandise. Pushing through the sea, the backs of several aliens waded my way, flowing from where an emergency stairway pierced the far wall.


    I sat down on the final landing and aimed my P5-AT. An odd twitch shook my shoulder and neck, as though something had triggered a reflex in my body. That was the third strange sensation I¡¯d felt since the crash. Getting weird sensations wasn¡¯t that uncommon for me. One of the reasons I had such strong anti-ware on my tablet was to prevent those sensations.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Every store, kiosk, and public anything in the world tried to spew ads and malware through any connection and to any unsecured augs. My friends and family complained about it all the time. Some of that net trash tried to leap from my tablet through the phone implants to my nonexistent augs. Rarely, something in that last step instead hit my nervous system directly, causing weird sensations. They were downright annoying, which was why my tablet¡¯s defenses were cranked up as high as I could afford.


    Getting three attempts in short order, however, was telling. In case they were watching and cared, I responded out loud. ¡°I wish whatever is trying to mess with my body would stop that. You¡¯re going to get me killed.¡± A message popped up on my glasses.


    I raised my eyebrows as I read the message:


    ¡°Sorry, Vanguard. Initialization failing. Requesting support. Use verbal request if you need anything.¡±


    Vanguard? Me? I half-snorted at the thought. Vanguards. One of the mysterious Samurai who used their access to unlimited alien technology to become strong enough that countries danced around them. How ironic that I, who had wanted to be a soldier all my life and been denied it, would now be pole-vaulted into the ranks of the most elite warriors on the planet. And how true to form that it was nearly useless to me. All of that magic tech relied on the very augmentations that my body rejected.


    And yet, deep down, the little kid that I had been, and maybe still was, leaped for joy. I remembered spending hours as a child learning about Samurai, and deciding what I¡¯d do with the power. I had played Sams and Aliens, built forts, and even had a costume. Eventually, I grew older and learned how exceedingly rare it was to be chosen, and I settled for a more reachable goal: the military, only to have that too denied.


    Assuming, of course, that it was real and not a scam. My tablet or glasses could have been hacked, and I was getting trolled. I cleared the message. ¡°Well, stop that. I¡¯ll let you know if I need anything,¡± I replied. It made no difference if it was real or a hoax, as long as they stopped the odd reactions and let me fight.


    I lined up on the nearest of the M-3s and killed it with a headshot. Quickly and surgically, I shot each of the eight beasts as they came into view. Eight dead, eleven bullets. A strong smell hit me, a blend of earthy freshness without any of the bright tanginess popular in the ¡°spring¡± style of candles. My father had described dead antithesis as smelling like fresh-cut grass. I wouldn¡¯t know. I¡¯d never seen anyone cut grass. Nor would I normally be aware of the scent.


    I swapped my mag for a fresh one and rotated the full ones around to the front while the friction strap kept the P5-AT at hand. I was down to three full mags of 15 bullets each and a partial in reach. I had more rounds with me. One of the advantages of working at a gun range was the cheap ammo. However, it might as well have been on the moon while still stored in my backpack, when the next wave was already coming up the distant emergency stairs. Six more speedy M-3s died, the last at the foot of the stairs.


    ¡°If you can¡¯t sync with me, how are you able to hear me?¡± I asked during the lull that followed.


    ¡°Hacked your tablet. Using Mic from that. Can link to glasses. But data too limited. Phone access restricted.¡± The messages came in short sentences, a necessity for them to be readable on my glasses. As always, the texts were painfully slow on my glasses. All my friends and contacts knew that texting me took too long and called me instead.


    I cleared the messages. ¡°Okay, I can get that, but it¡¯s the best I¡¯ve got right now.¡±


    ¡°Upgrade glasses?¡±


    ¡°There aren¡¯t any. These are about the top of the line.¡± I replied. A couple more antithesis had come up the stairs, and I lined up for a shot at them as they came.


    ¡°Current points: 305¡±


    ¡°Hey! No texts while I¡¯m shooting,¡± I said as I closed the message. As the text box closed out, the M-3 moved behind a mannequin, and I lost the shot. ¡°The text covers too much space, and I can¡¯t see around it,¡± I explained as I lined up a different shot and serviced another alien.


    The next wave started with ten M-3s. Behind them, I spotted the waving tentacles of two Model Fours and started to prepare for a retreat. I was hard-pressed to keep the M-3s back, and soon they were at the foot of the stairs. I stood up and continued to shoot as I retreated around the corner and up the stairs. Two M-3s pushed around the corner on the landing at the same time, one catching a bullet in the head. Its partner leaped up the stairs, landing at my feet. I switched to semi-auto, landing a burst of three bullets into its back. At the landing, more of the doglike aliens turned the corner. I started to shoot more, hot-swapping magazines. It was time to find out if this vanguard thing was real or a hoax.

 Arc 1, Chapter 3 -- Whats in a name?

    "Is that the Leeroy Jenkins of 2031? or the Leeroy Jenkins of 2046?"


    "Neither. I was thinking of the Leeroy Jenkins of 2029."


    "We need a better way to name these Samurai."


    -- Excerpt from a random online discussion about deceased Samurai.


    ***


    ¡°Gun, large caliber. Rapid fire. Something with penetration and stopping power. No box. On the planter.¡± My words were cold and clipped, shortened for speed. I was well aware that in stressful times I came across as unfeeling and authoritarian. I didn¡¯t care. The only time I got like this was when seconds, or even parts of a second, mattered. In those times, social graces were sacrificed to ensure survival.


    Some text flickered in my vision, almost subliminal in its speed. As I reached the top step, I heard something landing on the planter slash railing beside me. I began to believe it might be real. Only Samurai could summon weapons and ammo from thin air.


    ¡°Ammo for a P5-AT, in mag. Extended capacity.¡± I dropped another M-3 and reached out just in time for the mag to drop into my hand. I slotted the mag, the old one dropping to the ground, and sidestepped behind the planter in the pause.


    Around the corner came a mess of tentacles on four stubby legs, heavier than most Three¡¯s and about chest high at the shoulder¡ªthe first of the M-4. I dropped the P5-AT and let the strap catch it while I picked up the new weapon. It had a comforting weight to it as I raised the weapon. A wall of text and colored lines dropped over my sight as my glasses were overloaded with data. I sent commands out, closing down all input from the weapon. The view did not change; I still could not see.


    ¡°Too much. Can¡¯t see.¡± All the garbage vanished for a split second before I pulled the trigger. The click of the trigger action seemed to echo in the store. I released the trigger. ¡°It¡¯s not working. What the hell?¡± The display in my glasses hazed over, painting faint bands of color over the walls.


    The M-4 continued to climb the stairs. Its bulky body was covered in small tentacles, through which reached several larger ones. The big tentacles flailed their sharp edges and tips at me. I pulled the trigger again, and the gun slammed into my shoulder as it fired. I braced better as I hit the trigger again and again, shifting sideways along the railing. The monster stumbled on the top step and fell. I pumped a couple more rounds into it for good measure before switching to the second one coming up the stairs. That one fell on top of its companion, and I breathed a sigh of relief.


    A loud, rhythmic sound from behind startled me. I spun and pulled the trigger before realizing that it was a person clapping. Fortunately, the gun only clicked: out of ammo. Standing right behind me, now at gunpoint, was a tall, thin man in elegant clothing. His long blond hair was pulled back to show his pointed ears and bound in a ponytail. ¡°That was a nail-biter,¡± the stranger said. He simply looked at me, as if unaware of how close to death he¡¯d come.


    My stomach dropped as I realized how close I¡¯d come to accidentally killing a person. I yanked my rifle down beside my leg, pointing the barrel safely at the floor. I¡¯d gotten overexcited and attacked in reflex, despite years of sims learning to look first. Even if I was on my first live battlefield, that was no reason to throw away years of training in proper gun control.


    I suppressed my shudder and asked, ¡°Who are you?¡± I held my hand out and said, ¡°I need a reload.¡±


    The man looked puzzled for a moment before a magazine dropped onto my hand. I fumbled with the unfamiliar weapon until I managed to eject the old cartridge and load the new one.


    ¡°Jonnie Be Good. Samurai. Your AI has been squawking for help. Apparently, it can¡¯t get initiated with you for some reason.¡± If he was bothered by how close I had just come to killing him, he covered it well. Then again, if this was a Samurai, chances were good that he had some defense against a simple bullet, no matter how close the rifle was.


    ¡°Nice to meet you. I think we have that fixed.¡± I guess that sealed it: I was indeed a Samurai.


    ¡°Still, I¡¯d like to see if I can figure out what¡¯s going wrong. The AIs are mind-bogglingly advanced and should be able to link up with anything on the planet. Mind if I give you a couple of scans?¡±


    Unsure how I felt about becoming a Samurai, I turned towards the stairwell and started to pick up my dropped magazines. ¡°There¡¯s an incursion going on; is this the best time?¡±


    ¡°Yes. That bit with the gun not working shouldn¡¯t have happened. It was hilarious, by the way. I¡¯m going to have to share that one.¡±


    Stolen novel; please report.


    I gave him a dirty look, knowing there was no way to prevent memes. ¡°What was up with that?¡± I asked.


    My tablet beeped, and I looked to see a text editor app on the screen. It showed a long scroll of text running off the page. The latest message read:


    ¡°The gun couldn¡¯t operate with the software turned off. It¡¯s required. But your Crappy Combat Glasses ? have the data processing of a gnat, and the display gets overloaded. To fix it, I let the software display what it wanted and futzed with the focus of the glasses¡¯ display, so it was all blurred. You really need to get those upgraded.¡±


    Jonnie apparently had the same information and jumped in. ¡°Properly integrated, your AI would have been able to prevent that in a number of ways. It¡¯s more than a fancy shopping app. A good AI will be proactive in helping up to their limits, most of which they are obstinate about not sharing.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the antithesis. I¡¯ve got a probe down there, and we have some time before they head this way again.¡¯


    If we were safe, like he said, I didn¡¯t see any harm in some medical scans, so I nodded my permission.


    ¡°Hold still, and I¡¯ll get these scans that Wylbur¡¯s asking me for. What is your name, by the way?¡±


    While Jonnie waved a short rod up and down my back, I reloaded my magazines. ¡°Marcus Corin.¡±


    ¡°Hmmm, well, we can¡¯t have that, now can we? Samurai¡¯s got to have a name with meaning.¡± He switched tools and continued the scans, this time centered on my head. ¡°Any thoughts about what your shtick will be?¡±


    ¡°Shtick?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Yeah, every Samurai has something they do better than others, some particular way they do things. Take me. I¡¯m the closest thing you¡¯ll find to a Samurai medic, so I got a medic¡¯s name.¡±


    I racked my brain for any relationship between his name and medics, but couldn¡¯t come up with any. But he was making sense. Every Samurai approached how to defeat the antithesis in their own way.


    There had been no time to think about my approach yet. I¡¯d been too busy protecting the kids and fighting the antithesis. I¡¯d only been a Samurai for, I checked the clock in my glasses, thirty minutes? ¡°I¡¯ve been too busy to think about style. You stick with what you know until it doesn¡¯t work. I''ll change when it stops working.¡±


    He glanced at me speculatively while putting away the tools. ¡°Let me think about it. It¡¯s a big responsibility. Do you have a lot of experience with firearms? Were you in a PMC?¡±


    ¡°Why does it have to be you? I could come up with one,¡± I asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s traditional for the name to come from another samurai. You¡¯re free to move, by the way. I¡¯m done with the scans. The AIs are trying to figure out what they mean.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve tried for the PMCs but can¡¯t get in. I¡¯m either overqualified or underqualified, depending on the company.¡± I looked at the stairwell, all covered in alien corpses. ¡°Is there any easy way to get rid of all those?¡± I asked.


    Jonnie looked them over. ¡°They do change the atmosphere, don¡¯t they? Are you going to stay here or move in?¡±


    A box landed noisily on the floor between us, disrupting our conversation. The box was made of wood and had elaborate carvings on it. Jonnie looked at the box in surprise before his eyes lost focus for a minute. I turned to my tablet to see if my mysterious AI had any messages for me.


    ¡°We¡¯ve found the problem and have a solution. Wylbur¡¯s porting in the necessary solution, and Jonnie will apply it. We have to complete a gene activation that failed. This is a natural process for you, and it won¡¯t change your being. I don¡¯t expect you will notice any changes from doing this.¡±


    Jonnie turned to me. ¡°Bit of a good news, bad news thing here. Good news: we found the problem. Somewhere, some alien DNA mixed with yours, causing a bunch of issues. The important one is that it¡¯s preventing the AI from integrating with you. The bad news is that the solution is not real fast. It¡¯ll take an hour or so to fully settle, or something like that. Wylbur¡¯s quoting privacy limits, so I might not have the full picture.


    "Once that is complete, your AI can get you through the rest and answer any questions. I¡¯ve never heard of a case where an AI lied to their Samurai.¡± As he said this, Jonnie opened up the box and was unfolding a long scaffolding. ¡°And to do this, they had to bring in actual materials and twist the purchasing rules into a pretzel. So, turn around, and let me at your back.¡±


    My mind was reeling at this revelation. ¡°Alien DNA? What? You mean I¡¯m part antithesis?¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s a different race, one that has fought the antithesis before, or still is, maybe. My AI doesn¡¯t talk about the other races much.¡± He grabbed my shoulder and turned me before setting the top of the scaffolding on my shoulders. ¡°So, alien DNA. That¡¯s pretty exotic. I bet the girls will love you when they hear about this. In fact, I think that¡¯s what I¡¯ll name you: Captain Exo. It has a nice ring to it, right?¡±


    I winced. It sounded like some character in a children¡¯s program. It was almost as bad as what I¡¯d chosen when I was six. ¡°Sounds cheesy.¡±


    ¡°True, but who¡¯s going to question a Samurai? How about Exoman? No! Xenovir, because everything is cooler in Latin.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t too keen on getting a name from a random stranger I¡¯d met a few minutes ago. A Samurai¡¯s name should embody their person or their style. If I hadn¡¯t even been a Samurai for an hour yet, how was he going to know what kind of Sam I would be? I supposed that if push came to shove, I could change the name later. I shrugged noncommittally.


    He fiddled with the device for a minute, pausing now and then to flick his fingers in the air in the way aug users do while browsing. ¡°It looks like that¡¯s not taken, so yeah, we¡¯ll use that. It¡¯ll be sure to get you some chicks with it being all mysterious and indirect.¡±


    I felt a pinprick at my lower back, right above the waistline. ¡°Oh, and I¡¯m not gonna lie, this is gonna hurt,¡± he said as he leaned into my shoulder. A searing pain rushed down my spine from neck to tail before it radiated out to the rest of my body, growing as it went. In seconds, the pain was overwhelming, and I lost consciousness.

 Arc 1, chapter 4 -- Points for power

    Battle¡¯s hard enough. Why make it harder with a bad interface? Modern warriors have plenty of data points to keep track of, plus communication channels on top. Just letting the gear spew their data on your feed will result in a disorganized mess that just slows you down or worse. You don¡¯t need the drone feed blocking the text commands from higher, nor the ammo counter glitching the aiming reticle. You need Molly.


    Molly is a fully integrated, CDIPS compatible interface manager that will automatically adjust * the UI experience to how you use it. Using Molly, your data access speed will increase by thirty percent ** ensuring that you never miss an objective again. ***


    * Adjustments limited to size and preset options


    ** Based on observed performance in testing facilities.


    *** Kaleron Associates is not responsible for missed objectives nor for the consequences of making or not making military objectives. User responsibility is required.


    --Sales pamphlet, Kaelron Associates, 2036


    ***


    A loud, polytonic screeching woke me with a start. I jerked up to a sitting position, which I instantly regretted as every one of my muscles protested. A groan escaped me before I could control it. I had fallen near the planter, and my guns, both new and old, lay neatly within easy reach. I climbed the planter, using one gun for a crutch, to an approximation of a standing position.


    The source of the god-awful noise lay below, in the stairwell. Jonnie Be Good stood on a ladder-like contraption of white plastic that hung down from the railing. He wore a heavy set of headphones and seemed to be working on some device in the corner. After a minute, the noise ended. Jonnie must have spotted me standing and ascended the ladder before coming around. He held out his hand, and a small can appeared in it, which he held out to me.


    I looked at him, and he pushed the can at me again. ¡°Go ahead, doctor¡¯s orders. It will help you feel better.¡± I took the can and opened the pull-top. The fluid tasted mellow but sweet with just a hint of tang, and it was leagues above any other juice I¡¯d ever had. ¡°Protector food tastes amazing,¡± Jonnie said. ¡°This juice is filled with the nutrients you just lost. Twelve out of ten doctors recommend that you take some protector juice after each body mod.¡°


    I thanked him and gestured to the noisemaker. Now that my head was clearer, I also noticed that the stairs were clear of all the corpses, though washed in a greenish goo. Several more of the boxes dotted the stairwell, easily spotted by the orange extension cords leading to them.


    ¡°Resonator turrets. The frequencies break down the bodies of most of the antithesis, melting them on their feet. It is not the fastest way to kill them, but it¡¯s human-safe. These are upgraded versions that hit harder and work faster. I wasn¡¯t sure if you were planning on staying up here, going down to hunt antithesis, or calling it a day.


    ¡°It¡¯s your call. I recommend that you keep hunting, though. You could push on and find another choke point to kill the antithesis. I¡¯m going to work my way around the perimeter and close up all the holes. Once that¡¯s done, I¡¯ll push in and take out the hive. You could even try for the hive, but I doubt you will make it. I¡¯ll drop by and probably push in from here when I do go for the hive.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going straight to the hive?¡± I asked. Spending all that time closing the perimeter seemed like a waste when you could shut off the source.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got people watching most of the perimeter: PMCs, militias, and the like. I¡¯ll close the leaks around them first. I find that with baby hives, it¡¯s best to close the perimeter before doing anything else, so you don¡¯t have anthesis scattered all over to clean up afterward.


    ¡°I¡¯m giving you a good chance to build points here. You can push forward and rack up the kills, knowing that you can always run back here if you get overwhelmed. Wylbur won¡¯t reveal much about what they found in those scans and what it will mean for your growth¡ªthey have very strong opinions about privacy¡ªbut he is also very insistent on getting you as many points as we can. We don¡¯t get incursions or other outbreaks every day. It might be weeks before you get another chance.¡±


    I nodded. I knew from media and news shows that Samurai gained points for each antithesis they killed, which were used to purchase gear and enhancements.


    ¡°You have a bit before the next wave gets here. I¡¯ve already spent too long on this, so I have to get going. Make up your mind, and get to it.¡± He turned and walked out of the store, crossing the building away from the direction I had entered.


    I sat on the top step and pulled out my tablet. ¡°Is what he said correct?¡±


    ¡°Yes. I have a lot to tell you that I can¡¯t here because this is not necessarily secure, and I want to protect your privacy. In general, because of your body, we may have to pay more upfront to get your basic kit started. There are a couple of items that we need before we can even start. Those will be necessary to both finish the integration and to allow us to communicate properly.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure that being able to talk with my AI easier would make that much of a difference. Nor was I sure that I¡¯d be able to get enough points to make up the difference. The AI must have noticed my hesitance, for she continued.


    ¡°These first items will also build foundations for other things, like a workaround for augs that will let you link to devices and get data throughputs. One of them is a central processor implant that works for you. It can take the place of your tablet for computer functions. It will work differently from augs but still let you use cyber gear and operate on the net and the Mesh. The other is a better set of glasses, so you can get and use the smart gun info. These glasses are really holding you back combat info-wise.¡±


    That sold me. Being looked down on as a naught had been a sore point for me my whole life. All it took was pulling out my tablet one time to read a chat or look something up, and the pity looks would start.


    ¡°So I kill to get more points, right? Where am I at, by the way?¡±


    Sometime during my conversations, my glasses had restored to clarity. A message popped up:


    ¡°Current points: 335¡±


    I scowled at the numbers a moment before they updated:


    ¡°Totals on tablet. Gun was expensive.¡±


    ¡°Was that due to the rush job?¡± I checked the tablet for a longer response.


    ¡°No. Part of that was that we had to get a catalog for that type of weapon. That is a one-time expense unless you are upgrading the catalog. The other was the gun itself, which was 100 points.¡±


    ¡°And where do we need to be to get that pre-kit?¡±


    ¡°That will be from 600 to 800, depending on some choices.¡±


    After even this short back and forth, I could see how irritating it would be to talk with my AI meaningfully. Was this how it was for others to talk to me on social media, I wondered? I made a quick detour around the store, grabbing some clothes to create a slightly drier path down the stairs. ¡°We have to get some communication signals set. Let me know when we are getting close to 1000. And if there is anything that I absolutely must know and we¡¯re in combat, flash the glasses interface a few times. I¡¯ll try to break off and get some space to talk. Now, once more, unto the breach.¡±

 Arc 1, Chapter 5 -- Of phones, and firefights

    Marsten.D: It¡¯s back again.


    Draden.Y: What is?


    Marsten.D: Tried to remove some code from our routing protocols.


    Marsten.D: It¡¯s blocking some channels from being used for data.


    Draden.Y: Which channels?


    Marsten.D: The xmc65 channels


    Draden.Y: Those are phone primary. You¡¯re on the data side of things.


    Marsten.D: Yeah, but they are idle like 80% of the time; we¡¯re losing bandwidth that we need.


    Marsten.D: I don¡¯t understand why


    Draden.Y: Forget about it. Your up against the Didir Protocol


    Marsten.D: The what?


    Draden.Y: That code started showing up some time after the JDF quake and any attempts to remove it just¡­ fail. When it first appeared, some folks tried to fight it and got a nasty gram, or fifty, via malware delivery. All it said was, ¡°The separation of Data and Phones shall remain inviolate.¡± And it was signed by Didir.


    Marsten.D: JDF quake? I don¡¯t know what that is.


    Marsten.D: Didir as in the Samurai?


    Draden.Y: Juan de Fuca earthquake. A plate just off the coast that threatened to flatten all of Cascadia. Sometime back in the late ¡®20s a couple Sams did something to set it off. Made a big quake, followed by a bunch of littler ones. Not nearly as bad as it could have been, but a 6.8 quake is nothing to play around with. How do you not know about this? It¡¯s a major historical event. Way more than the exploding whale that is still on the internet.


    Marsten.D: Yeah, I¡¯ve seen that video. It was hilarious despite the crappy quality.


    Draden.Y: Lots of people that should have been warned of the quake didn¡¯t and got harmed, blocked due to spam blocking phone lines.


    Draden.Y: And afterwards people died because they couldn¡¯t get a line¡­ though they should have been able to. All of the bandwidth was getting used up by Spam from insurance companies trying to take advantage of the situation.


    Draden.Y: I suggest you drop it like a hot potato. The last guy to awaken the ire of Didir lost his job, so I suggest you drop it.


    Draden.Y: You there?


    Draden.Y: Not getting any response, you still online?


    --Internal Chat for Cascadia Mesh and Telecom, 2048


    ***


    On the lower floor of the store, the trail of blood led through an emergency stairway and down to the basement. I followed the trail through a large storage space with high shelves stacked with pallets of stuff, like a local warehouse. An abandoned maintenance cart held a spray can of paint. It only took a few minutes of backtracking to leave a trail of marks, showing the way out and where I thought good ambush points were. If I had to retreat in a hurry, I didn¡¯t want to be dealing with an app or risk getting lost on the way.


    In a long corridor, half filled with boxes, I encountered the next alien wave. For some insane reason, the boxes were scattered on both sides of the hall. I wasn¡¯t complaining, though. It made for a natural serpentine that would slow down the antithesis, like the two M-3s that were coming into the hallway.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    I took the first down with a headshot before its buddy turned and started running my way. Three more M-3s joined, followed by a pair of M-4s with their long tentacles. I shot the second M-3 in the hallway and started working on the ones in the lead of the second set. They had pushed their way halfway up the corridor when my phone rang. By habit, I tapped the side of my glasses to answer it.


    ¡°Hey Barry.¡± I¡¯d recognized the ringtone of my supervisor. Two more shots cleared the last of the Threes.


    ¡°Marcus, are you going to make it in today? You¡¯re late.¡± On the phone, the gravelly texture of his tenor was more noticeable. The M-4s continued to advance. The boxes did not slow them as much as the M-3s. By using their long tentacles, they could step from top to top.


    When the first was only ten meters away, I switched to automatic fire. They were too close for me to switch weapons, and I needed the extra hits with the P5-AT to take them down.


    The phone was quiet for a second. ¡°That was automatic fire; you don¡¯t do full automatic.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t wrong. While not up to the long ranges of a sniper, I did pride myself on my marksmanship. Both in online games and on the range, I usually had at least a ninety percent kill-to-shot rate. Even more, I taught my customers to leave the spray and pray on the big screen. However, sometimes you needed a bigger hammer, like when an M-4 was getting dangerously close.


    ¡°Sec,¡± I replied as I backed away from the last antithesis, still firing. The beast finally fell to the blunt instrument called volume of fire. When the hall was clear, I stepped back up to my shooting position and reloaded. ¡°I ran into a situation on my way to work. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll make it today.¡±


    ¡°What could have you switching to automatic?¡±


    Sometimes sending a screenshot was the only way to explain things, but manually transferring a screenshot took several stages, from glasses to tablet to phone to the recipient. It was such a pain to do it manually that I¡¯d bought a macro to do it all. A couple more M-3s turned the corner. I took half a second to trigger the macro, and the image was on the way. ¡°That kind,¡± I said, and fired three times. Two more corpses joined the others in the hallway. Between my own shots, I heard several rapid gunshots ahead of me.


    ¡°What the f...¡± Barry started, but I cut him off.


    "Sorry, I have to go. We¡¯ll talk later.¡± I hung up and rushed forward to the sound of a woman screaming around more gunfire. To the left, a door had been opened into the hallway before it continued on. From the door came the sounds of fighting.


    I ran into a large room filled with dead machinery and live antithesis on the floor, a story and a half below. To my left, back the way I came, a long catwalk ran along the long side and one short end of the room. At the other end of the catwalk was a large counter, presumably the controls for the machinery. Two women stood at the counter, firing into the antithesis that swarmed toward them on the floor below us. Another cowered behind the console, screaming. To my right, stairs dropped 5 meters to the room¡¯s floor with an M-3 climbing them.


    After killing the stair climber, I fired on the ones trying to get to the women, starting with any on the catwalk between us.


    As I cleared the catwalk, I traveled down it until I reached the corner opposite them. Another set of stairs dropped down beyond the console. When I paused at the corner, we caught the antithesis in a crossfire. Shortly, I heard the women¡¯s fire end, and one of them yelled out. ¡°We¡¯re out of ammo!¡±


    I nodded and continued to kill the antithesis, reloading several times. After the last few aliens fell to my shots, I moved to join the women. I was nearly there when a door I hadn¡¯t noticed burst open and spewed aliens onto the walkway between us.


    Several M-3s were on me before I could react, their teeth dripping with saliva. Dropping my P5-AT, I drew both pistols and fired on the Threes, alternating hands and trusting in the heavier rounds to drive them back even as I pressed forward.


    An M-3 dodged a shot, and I winced when the round hit the wall near the women. ¡°Get down!¡± I yelled, running forward. Another carefully aimed round, and there was only one left between me and the women. If I could get between them and the aliens, I could concentrate on only one direction and might have a chance.


    A weight landed on my shoulders, knocking me face down and sending my pistols skittering along the catwalk. I landed on the back of the one between us briefly, but the weight on my back pulled me to the side as the claws caught and then released. I rolled over to my back in exchange for more gashes on my side.


    The M-3 on top of me was wounded; I¡¯d grazed it before, and its green blood dripped in my face. Its three-part jaw opened, and saliva dripped on me. As it plunged its head at me, I pushed to the side, moving my body more than its head. The move shifted its bite to my shoulder instead of my neck. It savaged my shoulder, but I held on, preventing it from letting go and running after the ladies. From above me, I heard my pistol firing once, then twice more, followed by a click.


    "Knife.¡± I gasped. One dropped on the beast¡¯s back, laying flat and sliding toward my free hand. I grabbed the handle and thrust it into the beast¡¯s neck repeatedly. It finally collapsed on top of me, and I felt blackness starting to take over. "Healing,¡± I called out to my AI. A box dropped beside me. I reached for it, but the world faded to black before I could do more than twitch.

 Arc 1, Chapter 6 -- Allies and Battlefields

    To corrupt the great Sun Tzu¡¯s most excellent aphorism, ¡°On deadly ground, fight. And when it isn¡¯t deadly, make it so.¡± The greatest tool we have in battling the antithesis is the ground we walk on. Their mindless determination allows us to manipulate the enemy in ways that no human would fall for. Use it to create an advantage in every battle, or give up a powerful force multiplier.


    Commanders should be on the lookout for ways to use the terrain to your advantage. Whether as simple as funneling them into places you can focus your fire or more complex traps that roll up probes and misdirect hordes, commanders need to be constantly considering where they are fighting and for ways to make it better.


    -- Presentation to the PMC Association¡¯s Conference on Antithesis Threats and Countermeasures, Lt Col Corin, 2055


    ***


    ¡°Samurai, wake up. Please, wake up!¡± A woman¡¯s pleading pulled me slowly back to awareness. ¡°I did what the box said. Please wake up, Samurai. We need you.¡± A hand was gently rocking me.


    ¡°I¡¯m ok,¡± I responded. Opening my eyes, I found a young woman with dark brown skin and delicate golden traces around her eyes leaning over me. Some form of vanity mod? Or was it a sign of high-quality augs? I wasn¡¯t sure which. A beautiful smile crossed her face before she bent to hug me gently.


    ¡°What happened? Are we safe?¡± My back and belly tingled with a thousand needle pricks¡ªintense but not painful. Since I seemed to be no longer hurt, I rolled out from under my hugger and froze as I came face to intimately close muzzle with a Model Three. Probably the one that tackled me. It''s claws were still red with my blood. I stared at the beast, as one of the ladies said. "I got one using your pistol, but it''s out of ammo."


    "Are you OK?" The one kneeling by me asked.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m fine,¡¯ I said automatically, my eyes still locked on the dead alien.


    After a minute''s adjustment, I forced my eyes away from the beast and took stock of the situation. The catwalk was covered in alien blood and bodies, none of them moving. The combat knife I had asked for lay beside me, still covered in gore. Beyond the catwalk, the factory floor was still. My glasses showed a message from my AI: ¡°Message on tablet.¡±


    I pulled out my tablet and checked the messages from my AI, of which there were a number.


    "Catalog Unlocked: Fixed Point, Lethal Transition Melee Weaponry


    Cost: 50 Remaining points: 585


    "Purchased: Simple Combat Knife


    Cost: 5 Remaining points: 580


    "Emergency request for AI-determined action accepted.


    "Catalog Unlocked: Class I Medical Utilities


    Cost: 50 Remaining points: 530


    "Purchased: Class I Nano-Regenerative Suite


    Cost: 20 Remaining points: 510


    "Purchased: Hemo-Restore


    Cost: 5 Remaining points: 505


    "I labeled the medical supplies to ensure the people present could administer the healing, which they did.¡±


    I winced as I read the cost of my healing. ¡°Are the catalogs needed every time I buy something?¡±


    "Only if it is something new and not covered by a catalog you already have. Once a catalog is unlocked, you have access to everything it contains. Some catalogs have a broader variety of options than others. They can also be combined. For example, purchasing a stealth catalog would combine with your Kinetic Rifles catalog to open up more stealthier firearms.¡±


    ¡°Okay, we¡¯ll have to talk more about that later. I need to make this place safe for now.¡± I turned to the three women with me. ¡°Hi. I¡¯m Marcus, and that is... actually, I don¡¯t know your name.¡± I looked at the tablet.


    ¡°My name is Andronymicusde¡¯cor. But that¡¯s way too long. Call me Corie.¡±


    ¡°That is a long name. Does it mean anything?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s randomly chosen. I think the RNG gods have it in for me.¡±


    I could sympathize with her frustration. I spent a lot of time playing shooter or strategy games online. I was very experienced in the fickleness of random number generators. I returned my attention to the humans present. ¡°So that¡¯s Corie, my AI.¡±


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    ¡°I¡¯m Ginny.¡± A blonde with short, curly hair extended her hand to me. She had a puzzled look on her face, as though trying to place something. As I took her hand, she gestured to my nursemaid, still kneeling on the catwalk floor. ¡°You¡¯ve met Tara. And Kaitlyn is the one with the big gun.¡±


    The tall readhead was leaning on the console, half crouched over the AK-47 she held, and half turned to watch us. Kaitlyn waved, only to jerk her gaze back to the floor, momentarily alarmed by the ping of settling machinery. When it turned out to be nothing, she turned back to us. ¡°Marcus sounds pretty normal for a Samurai?¡± She left it hanging, as if undecided whether that was a question or a statement.


    I winced. ¡°If it isn¡¯t too clear, I haven¡¯t been a Samurai for very long. But that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m not reliable.¡± I rushed to reassure them. No one wanted to rely on a complete newbie to save them. ¡°I have years of training, and I¡¯m a firearms instructor professionally. Don¡¯t worry, I do know what I¡¯m doing when it comes to killing antithesis.


    ¡°But that means that I¡¯m not set in my Samurai name. Another Samurai came up with one for me, but I¡¯m not sure about it.¡±


    ¡°What was the name?¡± Ginny asked.


    ¡°Umm, Xenovir.¡±


    ¡°How would you spell that?¡±


    ¡°With an X? Same as xylophone? He had this thing about mixing ¡®alien¡¯, by which I think he meant ¡®xeno¡¯ with something else. That was before he mentioned something about Latin, so?¡± I lifted my hands in an unknowing gesture.


    Kaitlyn was looking off into the middle distance. ¡°The Samurai forum has a post about a newly chosen, complete with a video link and a couple hits. That must be you¡­ Yep, it looks like you in the vid. I like the name, by the way. It has a lot of social potential. Chats are going to love the spelling. Lots of ways to play around with it. X-man, Xeno, and Mr. Vir. It is just a bit exotic, but it still sounds normal. There¡¯s been too many Sams with simplistic or normal names of late, in my opinion.¡±


    I decided to change the subject. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s get organized. We need to hold the antithesis off for a while, and this looks to be a decent position.¡±


    ¡°Can you get us out of here?¡± Tara asked. The whites of her eyes stood out all the more in contrast with her dark skin as the fear welled up in her.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I can¡¯t. That other Samurai I mentioned is working to close off the hive. But until they can do that, there¡¯s a bus load of kids back that way.¡± I gestured back up the way I had come, ¡°who we need to protect. While we have a break, let¡¯s get organized. Tara, can you throw the bodies off the side?¡± She nodded, and she started to roll the corpses over the railing.


    ¡°Ginny, can you help her? We don¡¯t want to trip on a body during a fight. Kaitlyn, you are out of ammo, right?¡± The red-head nodded, fingering the cartridge still in the rifle. ¡°Gather up the firearms, and we¡¯ll see what we have.


    ¡°Corie, can I get 3 magazines for each of the rifles except my P5-AT? I still have plenty loaded for that. And also for Ginny¡¯s handgun.¡± Several boxes appeared on the console. I flipped open the boxes and quickly reloaded each weapon. The extra mags I set beside the weapon. I glanced at the tablet to see the total and frowned. Each magazine costs a full point. ¡°Is that cost mostly due to the mag or the ammo?¡±


    ¡°The mag and having it pre-loaded. You can get the ammo cheaper in bulk, but you have to load it yourself.¡±


    ¡°Good to keep in mind. Thanks.¡±


    I scanned the room and found an ideal choke point. The floor, meters below, was choked with machinery, perfect for slowing down the antithesis. The high walkway kept us out of reach, but it let us shoot down over the backs of the machines. I glanced up to find a twisted maze of pipes through which the lights dropped. Clearance wasn¡¯t going to be an issue if we had to start lobbing anything like a grenade.


    I turned to the door behind us and poked my head into the room beyond. Crates and warehouse shelves filled the room, which expanded in two directions. Fortunately, no antithesis were in sight. ¡°Is there any Samurai magic that can close up this door?¡± I picked up the tablet and scanned the doorway with the camera.


    ¡°For 100 points, I can unlock the Combat Engineering Essentials catalog, which includes a number of devices to change the battlefield. With that, you can get a number of barricades whose durability varies with price.¡±


    ¡°What range of strength are we talking about here?¡±


    ¡°The cheapest would be a simple spike barricade for 5 points for a 2 meter length. From there, you can go up to a self-hardening foam bomb, which could fill the area, or even a self-standing hard wall for 10 points per meter.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s do that. Get the catalog and one of the hardwalls.¡± The door was standard single door width, making it a little more than one meter wide.


    "Catalog Unlocked: Combat Engineering Essentials


    Cost: 100 Remaining points: 396


    "Purchased: Nemani Self-stabilizing Barrier, 1 meter.


    Cost: 10 Remaining points: 386¡±


    The barrier appeared in front of the doorway with a loud thump. It looked like a corrugated fiberglass panel about 2 meters tall, embedded in a triangular stone base. I pressed my hand on it, and it flexed slightly but seemed stable. The gaps between the barrier and the doorway bothered me. A few of the spaces looked large enough for one of the smaller M-3s to reach through. And I wasn¡¯t sure if it could be tipped over or not. ¡°Is there an adhesive foam in that catalog?¡±


    ¡°A spray can of self-expanding adhesive foam is 5 points, but it holds enough foam to fill that space twenty times over.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it.¡± A small box dropped onto the floor beside me. I had expected one of the large aerosol canisters, like those commonly used for spray paint. The can I found in the box was palm-sized. As a test, I squirted some on the floor between the barrier and the door, a ten-centimeter gap. A tiny drop, barely visible, impacted the surface. A second later, the tiny bit of fluid quickly expanded, engulfed the gap, and continued growing. After a few seconds, the growth stopped, leaving behind a ball of foam that filled several liters of space and engulfed both the door frame and the edges of the barrier.


    I poked the foam ball, finding it still pliable. ¡°Is this going to hold?¡±


    ¡°The foam takes a few minutes to fully harden. Once it does, it will easily hold up to anything we¡¯ve seen so far. Use it sparingly. One milliliter will expand to around a kiloliter.¡±


    Suitably impressed, I secured the barrier in six places. As I applied the last bit of foam, Kaitlyn called out. ¡°Anti¡¯s coming!¡±


    ¡°What? Do you have family on the way to help out?¡± Ginny asked.


    ¡°Those would be aunties,¡± she used the longer southern pronunciation, ¡°and mine would faint if they saw a monster in real life. I mean antithesis, Anti¡¯s.¡± She pointed out over the floor, where a couple M-3 sniffed around one of the pieces of machinery.

 Arc 1, Chapter 7 -- Birth Control Glasses

    "The rise of individual grievance narratives and how they are expressed are impacting society''s ability to find common ground. Increasingly, it is leading to a normalization of provocative and inflammatory behaviors contrary to community standards and liberal democratic values."


    Australian government statement reporting an increase in the terror threat level, 2024


    ***


    I grabbed my P5-AT and eliminated the monsters with a couple quick shots. As more of the earthy freshness scent I¡¯d come to relate to dead antithesis flowed over us, I turned to the ladies. ¡°There will be more behind those. It''s time to get ready for the next wave. Everyone get behind the console.¡± I handed the P5-AT rifle to Ginny. ¡°Have you ever used a rifle before?¡± She shook her head. I looked at Katlyn and Tara, who both shook their heads.


    ¡°Okay, quick, quick lesson.¡± I showed them the very basics of the weapon, mostly how to hold it and aim, how to change the magazines, and where the safety was. ¡°Remember to keep the dangerous end that way.¡± I pointed toward the machinery. ¡°And to only use bursts of shots. I¡¯ll show you more when we have time.


    ¡°Tara, you¡¯ll have to stick with a pistol.¡± I held one out to her.


    She pulled back her hands, shaking her head. ¡°No, no guns, no. No. No.¡± She even stepped away from me, back against the wall. Looking at her, I realized that she was younger than I had assumed¡ªmaybe mid-teen instead of the low twenties of the other two.


    I quickly pulled back my hand and set the weapon on the console. ¡°It¡¯s ok; you don¡¯t have to. It¡¯s alright to hide behind the console while we¡¯re fighting.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve found that she¡¯s deathly afraid of killing anything,¡± Ginny explained.


    I was still trying to think about how to respond to that when more M-3s rushed through the machinery and pushed the thought aside. I lined them up and finished them as quickly as possible. The fire from Kaitlyn and Ginny was less effective. Ginny had a habit of flinching with each burst, while Kaitlyn was leading too much when the monster was moving. That wave ended with four M-4s, two of which tried to approach by crawling along the ceiling. The drop lights in the room lit the floor clearly, but only some dim reflected light reached the roof, which was further cluttered by pipes, vents, and other industrial crap.


    As the last M-4 fell, I once again felt the visual fog lift from my sight as Corie reset the focus of my glasses. ¡°Corie, what¡¯s the progress on affording that first upgrade?¡± My temples throbbed, a sure sign of a headache in the making. I glanced down at the tablet, which was lying on the console.


    ¡°Current points: 511. One or two more waves of antithesis like that, and you¡¯ll be there. It helps that you are supplying ammo to the girls. Their kills generate a few points for you.¡±


    I hummed in thought. ¡°Part of that upgrade is for new glasses, right? Will those be compatible with my tablet?¡±


    ¡°Yes. That¡¯s one of the choices to make. There are lower-end sets the tablet can support for now. You will quickly outgrow them, and they will need to be replaced. The cheapest that can handle the max processing by the tablet would be 25 points.¡±


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go with that for now. Using this new rifle with the blur effect is giving me a headache.¡±


    "Purchased: BCG Mk I, Combat variant


    Cost: 25 Remaining points: 516¡±


    A small rectangular box dropped onto the console. From it, I pulled out a pair of glasses. The thick black rims turned into even thicker stems that folded out to hook around and under the ears and secure them to the face. I put them on and started the sync with my tablet. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ginny staring at me.


    ¡°I thought Samurai gear was supposed to be cool? What are those?¡± She blurted out.


    ¡°Those are so uncool they don¡¯t even pass the event horizon. They are just plain ugly.¡± Kaitlyn chimed in.


    Tara, still huddled behind the console, looked up at me, not even trying to suppress her giggles.


    I looked at my tablet and saw that the mirror app had been pulled up. On the screen, I saw my own dark hair, lightly tanned skin, and the combat glasses that were, I had to admit, ugly. The thick black rims only emphasized the presence of the glasses, and the large circles clashed with the lines of my face. ¡°Really? You couldn¡¯t dress them up any? And don¡¯t give me any lines about the look working for Buddy Holly. It didn¡¯t.¡±


    On the tablet, in large type that I was sure the others could read from the other end of the room, she replied, ¡°I wanted to be sure you didn¡¯t get comfortable with them. These are still crap that¡¯s little better than you can find on the street. You¡¯ll soon have much better options available.¡±


    At that moment, the glasses¡¯ UI came up with a clarity leagues above my old pair. The few simple apps and macro buttons I¡¯d been forced to use were diminished to a quarter their size, leaving my field of view uncluttered and clear. I pulled up a text app, changed the type size down by half, and could still read the text. It was amazing. After a literal lifetime of being blocked from the augmented world, I could finally start to participate. The options were amazing.


    ¡°I¡¯m syncing the Tribulator through your tablet now. Let me know if the resolution needs to be adjusted.¡± Corie¡¯s text hovered in the lower right corner of the glasses, resting on the frame. I looked at the rifle in my hands and, for the first time, willingly accepted a data pop-up.


    ¡°Corten Systems 5.56 assault rifle ¡°The Tribulator¡± Mk 1,¡± I read. As I raised the rifle, a circle appeared in the glasses, showing the aimpoint of the weapon. I was tempted to stand there and play with the new controls of my glasses, but an M-3 ran past the generators in the room below us. Its claws scratched on the hard cement as it skewed through the turn at a full run.


    ¡°How are we doing on ammo?¡± I asked as the Tribulator barked, hitting the running monster in the lower eye. Four more followed, each of which died as soon as I had a clear shot.


    ¡°I¡¯m down to a clip,¡± Kaitlyn said.


    I winced. Taking off my backpack, I replied, ¡°You mean a mag or magazine.¡± The correction was a habit from years of teaching. I pulled out several pre-loaded clips for the P5-AT and showed how they were used to refill the magazine quickly.


    Ginny handed me a couple more empty magazines, which emptied the box I had in my bag. ¡°Tara,¡± I said, turning to the woman sitting behind us. ¡°Are you fine with reloading the ammo? Or will that go against your no guns thing? We¡¯re going to need more ammo, and it will help if you can fill the magazines.¡± She looked for a minute at the empty mag I held out, nodded, and grabbed it. After a few mistakes, she caught on to how to fill the mags, and I purchased a box of each type of ammo we were using.


    ¡°Kaitlyn and Ginny, when you feel you¡¯re nearly done with a mag, reload and toss the used one to Tara. Some people like to count their shots, but it¡¯s better to swap out early than run out when the press is on. Tara, when you finish filling a mag, set it on the console. If the boxes run out, let me know.¡± I placed my tablet back in my pocket. "I¡¯ll be right back.¡±


    I took two steps towards where I had come in before Tara lunged up and grabbed my leg like a small child. ¡°No, no, don¡¯t leave. Please, we¡¯ll help. Honest,¡± she begged, tears starting to fall again.

 Arc 1, Chapter 8 -- Thinking circles

    Once you have your killing field set, you¡¯re only a quarter of the way done. Don¡¯t rest on your laurels; the antithesis will adapt eventually, and there is no perfect defense. Keep shaping your field, both to fill in the holes and to prepare for when the aliens do get around or through them. Build depth into your defenses. Make layers on layers that the enemy has to get through before they can get to you. Adjust to how the field is changing. The bodies alone will change how the field works, much less any other changes they make in trying to get through. Also be aware of the flanks.


    The antithesis are mindless, but they are also multifarous and multitudinous. There¡¯s always a bigger hammer or another force that will break or go around your defenses. Include mobility in your defenses, which is counterintuitive, I know. You need to leave yourself space to adjust to new attacks and to get out of there when the time comes. No one expects a heroic last stand from you; you aren¡¯t going to get paid that much. Make sure you have a way out, and use it before it is compromised. If you¡¯ve done your job right, you can fall back to the next defensive line before the aliens get free of the first.


    -- Presentation to the PMC Association¡¯s Conference on Antithesis Threats and Countermeasures, Lt Col Corin, 2055


    ***


    Awkwardly, I knelt down and set a hand on her head. I could feel her trembling. ¡°I¡¯m not leaving. I promise. I¡¯m only going over there to make sure we can get to that door. You¡¯ll be able to see me the whole time.¡± She shook her head. I looked over my shoulder at the other two. Their faces showed a mix of awkwardness and concern. ¡°Tara, look at me,¡± I said gently to her. She looked up, her eyes large and pleading. ¡°I swear to all that I am that I won¡¯t leave you. I¡¯m a Samurai, protecting people is what I do. I won¡¯t leave you in this deep hole.¡±


    ¡°Scout¡¯s honor?¡± She asked in a small voice.


    ¡°On my honor.¡± I replied, ¡°Did you want to come and help?¡± She relaxed a little. ¡°Okay, let me help you up, and we¡¯ll clear out these bodies as we go.¡±


    Dozens of bodies littered the walkway from the two battles, making the footing unreliable. With Tara¡¯s help, we cleared the whole way to the door and stairs. I glanced into the hallway to make sure it was still clear before turning to the stairs. ¡°These Anti¡¯s sure do make a mess.¡± Tara¡¯s soprano was suddenly cold, and she spoke with a slight southern accent.


    ¡°You liked that name, did you? I think I do too.¡± I took a deep breath. ¡°Corie, I¡¯d like some kind of anti-personnel hedgehog barricade here on the stairs. Is there one in that combat engineering catalog?¡±


    ¡°There are several. I¡¯d recommend the Stegosaur from Barins, Inc. It is two meters wide, self-installs using memory steel, and has been proven to block antithesis up to Model 15 if locked in place properly.¡±


    The sheer luxury of getting the text without having to break out the tablet brought a smile to my face. That turned to a grin when a short video appeared in the glasses, showing a complex weave of metal spikes extending out from a flat base. A figure standing by the barricade showed that they would reach up to shoulder height.


    ¡°Yeah, one of those, about a quarter of the way down, please.¡±


    "Purchased: Barins Stegosaur modular barricade.


    Cost: 5 Remaining points: 496¡±


    A long flat box appeared on the stairwell, reminiscent of the furniture his parents bought from that megacorp out of the Netherlands. It extended beyond the edges of the stair and caught on the railing before it could slide far. On impact, the box unfolded long spikes that jutted up, not quite randomly, to fill the air above it with sharp points at all heights.


    A little sealing foam later, and it was secured to the stairway. I even added some foam to fill some of the gaps that I felt might let a starved M-3 through. Across the very top edge of the stair, I bought a two-meter length of the Nemani Self-Stabilizing Barrier, which again was glued in place.


    As I added the last sealing point to the barrier, the Anti¡¯s started streaming into the room. Tara started screaming and slowly backed away from them. Fortunately, she hit the wall of the room and followed it, rather than backing into the hall. I calmly readied the Tribulator and started firing on the M-3s swarming in.


    Tara¡¯s screams attracted the monsters, who immediately started to climb the staircase we¡¯d blocked. Due to the wall I¡¯d set, I did not have a shot on the stairway, but they couldn¡¯t get past either. ¡°Back to the console,¡± I barked at Tara. When she only drifted slowly along the wall, I pushed on her shoulder. ¡°Move. I need you to get that ammo ready for Ginny and Kaitlyn.¡±


    That seemed to unstick her, and she flew down the length of the room. I followed her more slowly, pausing now and then to shoot a monster that was getting too close to Kaitlyn and Ginny.


    At the corner, I stopped and took advantage of the angle to set up a crossfire again, not that the Anti¡¯s intentionally used cover. Their simple-minded aggressiveness leaned more towards swarm tactics to overwhelm their opponents rather than self-preservation. Trading a dozen M-3s for a single fighting human was a win for the Anti¡¯s in their war of attrition. Especially if they could reclaim both the human body and those of the fallen Anti¡¯s. The idea of using cover required a level of self-preservation that wasn¡¯t in the Anti¡¯s playbook.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    We cleared the wave without any monsters getting on the catwalk, but it was close. The body of an M-4 lay on the lowest step below the console.


    I joined the ladies, handing a near-empty mag to Tara for refilling. ¡°Good job; it was close, but we held on.¡± I patted Ginny on the shoulder as I headed down the stairs. At the foot, I placed another Stegosaur and another half way up.


    After considering the stairs and console for a minute, I also sealed the top of the stairs with another solid barrier. It overlapped the console by several centimeters, which allowed for a three-sided protected space should something with range come. So far, the hive had only sent out cheap melee models. At some point, it would send some with ranged attacks.


    After making sure Ginny and Kaitlyn were reloaded and had a full set of magazines handy, I pointed down the walkway.


    ¡°To be clear, our priority is to keep the walkway clear. That is our only way out. And yes, that does worry me. Corie, does that combat engineer¡¯s catalog include demolitions?¡±


    ¡°Some. Nothing that¡¯s oriented towards killing antithesis. That would take a different catalog.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m thinking more about breaking through a wall. Shaped charges, breachers, or the equivalent.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s several options for that, and a couple even use explosives. Are you thinking of making a second door?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m trying to make sure I know what¡¯s possible in case of an emergency.¡± I stared towards the far left corner where the Anti¡¯s had been coming from as my mind raced. There were several things I wanted, and I wasn¡¯t sure what the best balance was. Better warning of when the Anti¡¯s were coming would help a lot. But completing that initial upgrade weighed heavily on my mind too. On the other hand, I was also worried that we didn¡¯t have a good escape plan.


    At some point, probably soon, they would start throwing Model Fives at us. The tougher monsters were slower, which was good: more time to kill them before they closed. The problem was that they could launch quills hard enough to be a threat even to my body armor.


    Whether we¡¯d need to deal with them wasn¡¯t certain. From the stories I¡¯d been raised on, they were around the size of a hover car. They might not be able to get around in the narrower hallways. But family wisdom also said that the Anti¡¯s could adapt to any situation. Getting some warning systems set up, like drones, was the smart move.


    But that kept pushing back the upgrade. I felt that I wasn¡¯t really a Samurai until I had that upgrade. I knew the feeling was not rational, especially after getting the upgraded glasses. Nevertheless, it persisted and nagged at the back corners of my mind.


    After a few minutes, I realized I was thinking in loops and that I needed more data to make a decision. ¡°Corie, I need some hard info here. How many points do I have? And how much is needed for that initial upgrade?¡± Out of the corner of my eye was a flicker of movement up on the ceiling. I continued to keep an eye out for motion or a change in the area.


    ¡°You currently have 1026 points. The augment interface upgrade will cost 600 points. That includes two catalogs: Class I Cyberwarfare Utilities (100 points) and Valerian SymSynTech (300 points), plus the Valerian SymTech Gland itself (100 points).¡±


    ¡°So I could do the upgrade now? I¡¯d be short on points, but that could be made up with the next wave.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t recommend that you do the upgrade right now. The upgrade will knock you out for as much as ten minutes. There haven¡¯t been ten minutes between waves since you arrived here. You would be leaving the girls helpless during that time, and yourself.¡±


    I was sorely tempted to risk it. ¡°What would a cheap drone or two cost? Something that we can send out to check on the Anti¡¯s and see what they are doing.¡± I frowned at the ceiling. Was that something moving closer? It felt like that pipe wasn¡¯t there before.


    ¡°Are you going to be investing a lot in remotes? We have to buy a catalog no matter what, and it will be cheaper in the long run to get one that fits now over having to piece several together later.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t think so, not yet at least. I¡¯m thinking of mini scouts, so we don¡¯t get surprised. I¡¯m too hands on to be happy with fighting by drone proxy, so any arms would be defensive. That''s the same reason I refused to be a manager at work.¡±


    ¡°In that case, I recommend two options. The more expensive would be a full stealth catalog for 200 points. That would get you stealth drones, but it also has other gear like camouflage armor and silent weapons. The other would be a more specialized catalog. Being more limited lowers the cost quite a bit. That would be only 50 points. The trade-off is that the cheaper catalog can only provide small, lightweight sensor drones with a limited carry capacity.¡±


    That was a non-decision for me. While I respected people who used stealth and knew it could be a major advantage, there was a reason my best range shooting was under 500 meters: I lacked the patience that a true sniper needed.


    ¡°The cheaper catalog will do fine. I¡¯m not someone who needs to be spying on my neighbors. And what stealth I do use is more to get into position unmolested than for a surprise attack. The right clothing and sneakers will be enough for that.¡± A tentacle slipped past a patch of light about halfway down the room, but it was gone faster than I could react. I kept searching, looking off to the side, and waiting for more movement.


    ¡°And the antithesis are known to ignore a drone unless there is a biological component to it, there is a Model One around to chase it down, or it does something to attract attention. That will let us use the Basic Sensor Drones catalog, from which I recommend the Chibat two-mode drone with low-light upgrade. That is a net 90 points.¡±


    Before I fully registered what I was seeing, the Tribulator barked out a single shot, and an M-4 dropped to the floor. Kaitlyn jerked upright, scrambling for the rifle that had nearly fallen out of her grip.


    Her fair skin flared red as she blushed. ¡°Sorry, I haven¡¯t slept since we were taken. That¡¯s... what day is it?¡±


    I glanced at the glasses¡¯ day/date display. ¡°Tuesday,¡± I said in time with Kaitlyn. I blinked in surprise as the time registered. It had only been a couple hours since I rammed my car into the side of an M-6 on a busy street. It felt much longer.


    ¡°Um¡­seventy some hours, maybe eighty,¡± she continued.


    I pulled some energy drinks out of my backpack along with a flashlight. The drinks never did anything for me, and I only kept them there in case a client started to crash. Sleepy on a firing range was not a safe situation. While the ladies filled up on liquid energy, I painted the ceiling with light. The last thing we needed was for an M-4 to drop on us. Sure enough, I found four more to introduce to gravity, and they joined the growing pile of corpses.

 Arc 1, Chapter 9 -- Intelligence

    ¡­That¡¯s why I rank the Model Twelve at number two on the most scary antithesis out there.


    Now, on the top of the list is the true terror, the one that will give you nightmares, hands down, no question, guaranteed. I present to you the Model Seven. It may be the tiniest of the models, weighing in at mere three hundred grams (that¡¯s ten and a half ounces to you dirty legacy freedom users), the seven is tiny, but its feelers can extend over a meter, and with it being so light, you won¡¯t even know it¡¯s on you. What''s worse is that it won¡¯t eat you. No, no. This mutherF¡¯kr will drill into your mind and take over your body. That¡¯s right, it is going to turn you into a freaking zombie.


    And what it does with your not unalive remains is one of several things. The simplest is that it will walk you back to the hive, where you¡¯ll become plant food. There have also been cases of the seven creating attack swarms of zombies, and if that wasn¡¯t enough, there are rumors of some sevens infiltrating towns and cities, only to break out into zombie hordes days after the incursion is cleared out. That¡¯s right, your neighbor could be an incubator for more sevens right now. There are even rumors that those poor suckers who get mind fucked haven¡¯t been made unalive yet.


    There¡¯s reports all over the mesh of people that have seen expressions on the zombies as they turn on you. I¡¯m not kidding, like real horror on the faces, as the seven turns your loved one into a murder machine and comes after you. Now, that¡¯s just rude. The least they could do is have the courtesy to fully unalive you before doing that shit.


    Because of that, there¡¯s movements to capture the zombies in the hope that they can get their loved ones back, but I¡¯m telling you now, if my loved ones get a seven in them, I¡¯m gonna unalive them as fast as possible. There¡¯s no coming back from that, and I don¡¯t want my girl¡¯s last days to be filled with the horror of whatever the seven¡¯s gonna make her do.


    And that¡¯s why I¡¯m putting the Model Seven at number one of the most scary antithesis out there.


    --Dealpas, Mesh-tuber and Samurai


    ***


    As if the shots had summoned them, the Anti¡¯s swarmed in, as fast as before. Their numbers were starting to tell, and we were barely keeping up. This time they hit the bottom barricade faster, and it took longer to clear out the beasts milling around the room below us. I even had to lean out over the console to get at the last couple, who had scrambled on top of one of the machines and were trying to reach us from there.


    In the silence after the battle, I frowned as something tickled at my memory. Turning to Kaitlyn, I asked, ¡°Did you say you were taken?¡±


    Ginny was the first to answer. ¡°Kaitlyn and I were on campus, on our way to an event, when some goon squad rolled up in a van and tasered us. They had us in an e-cage before we could scream, then they hit us with a knockout drug, and we woke up in some cells.¡±


    Kaitlyn took up the story. ¡°It took us a while to find out that some kook cult¡¯s been storing up people for one of those crazy rituals. We found Tara hiding in a back corner. She¡¯d been there for how long?¡±


    ¡°Long, too long.¡± Tara was still filling mags without looking. She gazed into an empty space, far away from here. ¡°Been fattening us up. Making us ready. I found a corner. Kept it hidden. Kept it quiet. Dig, dig, push and push, lever through the wall, to the next, and the next. Small hole, easy to hide.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯d been working on a breakout.¡± Ginny brought them back on topic. ¡°Less tunnel and more a hole into another section of the building. We helped her finish it, and left. The leader was starting to get real excited, claiming the blessed were coming and that the sacrifice needed to be ready for them.¡±


    ¡°I definitely need those drones. We need to know where the Anti¡¯s are, and I¡¯d like to look at the cultists. Does anyone know how to control a drone?¡±


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Tara raised her hand. ¡°I think I can. I have double augs for a full dive. I¡¯m pretty good with the controls for computer games. There¡¯s an eighty-four percent similarity between them. Probably as a recruiting method for the military.¡± My sister was a pilot for the Air Force who spent half her ¡°air¡± time on remote drones. She had stated many times that the controls for a drone were both very similar to those for some of my shooter games but also very different.


    ¡°Good. Corie, can Tara control my drones, or do they have to be linked to me?¡±


    ¡°She will have to interface through your tablet. I can also monitor and guide her if needed. If she¡¯s going to be running your drones for the long term, we can get her some cyber gear to assist. Once the SymTech Gland is active, I could drive the drones myself in an emergency.¡±


    ¡°Do it. Even if all we can do is see through the doorway, that would be worth it.¡±


    Another of the Samurai boxes fell to the ground. I flipped it open to find a small drone, not much larger than my hand with the fingers flat. It had four small legs tucked up beside the body, and I could see what looked to be short, extendable delta wings on the sides. One end had a gimbaled camera, and the other had a set of tiny props. If anything, it looked like a miniature bat and Chihuahua hybrid, all done up in plastic.


    I handed my tablet to Tara, where an app popped up showing the view from the drone. After fiddling with it for a few minutes, she threw the drone like a paper airplane.


    ¡°This is easy.¡± Tara settled back against the wall, her eyes not seeing the tablet before her.


    A video window opened in the lower right of my glasses, showing the room zipping about, mimicking the aerobatics of the drone as it flitted about the room. I ignored the feed, finding the unexpected twists and loops slightly nauseating. ¡°First, let¡¯s check through the door they are coming through and see what¡¯s back there.¡±


    The drone soon zipped out of the room, diving down and through the door where the Anti¡¯s came from. We waited a few minutes more before Tara reported in. ¡°There¡¯s a turn, then another turn, and the corridor straightens out. Doors on each side.¡± Her voice had an added breathiness that was not normally present. ¡°There¡¯s some hounds, followed by a couple squigglies. And a new one, big with stiff hair, not nice hair like a mohawk, rattles. Two of them. Should be here soon.¡±


    I checked the camera view, which was now sitting steady and looking down on a corridor filled with several aliens. To the back stood two large, four-legged antithesis that I had never seen before. They had the long, thick, spiky hair of a Model Five but were much smaller. As they passed under the drone, the view panned, and I could see a long tail covered in quills, each nearly as long as my forearm. ¡°What are those?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Model Five variants, type C. Smaller and more dense, you find them in more confined spaces, like in this building. Due to their density, they are nearly as sturdy as the regular ones. They can¡¯t throw as many quills from their backs, and what they do does not hit as hard. But they make up for that both in melee with that tail and by launching the tail spikes farther and harder.¡±


    ¡°Kaitlyn and Ginny, we have a pair of Model Fives coming. In case you don¡¯t know, those are the ones with range. Get over beside the barrier, and I¡¯ll stand farthest out. Tara, you¡¯ll want to be back in the corner. Slide along the wall to your left to get there.¡± I assumed that her vision was restricted to the drone¡¯s camera while connected. ¡°When they start to shoot at us, duck back into safety. I¡¯ll try to get them before that, though. Tara, did you count them?¡±


    ¡°Fifteen hounds, five squigglies, and two thags.¡± Tara was scooting into the corner as she spoke.


    ¡°Thags?¡±


    She looked at me. "Thagomizers,¡± she said with a dead serious look, as if that explained everything. I had no idea what those were, but I assumed she was calling the M-5c¡¯s "thags.¡±


    I looked at the room below us. We had killed over a hundred antithesis by now, and the bodies were starting to stack up. The smell, once mild and pleasant, had turned sour, like my trashcan if I¡¯d left it unemptied for too long. Soon, we would need to do something to dispose of the bodies before they could use piles of bodies to reach our level. A good portion of the bodies were the tentacled M-4s. ¡°Speaking of which, Corie, we need some gas masks. Something comfortable and non-disposable.¡±


    ¡°Masks? Why?¡± asked Kaitlyn.


    ¡°The M-4 emits a gas that is mildly harmful. I wasn¡¯t too worried at first with the size of the room, but we¡¯re getting enough of their bodies down there that it could become a problem.¡±


    ¡°From your Class I Medical Utilities catalog, there are the disposable masks, which come in a box of 5 for one point. Or you can get something longer lasting for 5 points each.¡±


    ¡°The 5 pointers, please. There is no reason to add to the trash heaps if we don¡¯t have to.¡±


    "Purchased: n210 BioHazard Mask


    Cost: 20 (Qty: 4) Remaining points: 1,021¡±

 Arc 1, Chapter 10 - Duck

    Democracy is based on the idea that ten thousand people are smarter and more stable than ten, or one. That only works when those thousands of people actually know something about the situation. Ten thousand ignorant people won¡¯t come to a better conclusion than ten who understand the factors involved and what it affects.


    Modern media makes it too easy to distract volumes of people away from the important issues and manipulate them wholesale. And that¡¯s not even taking into account deliberate attempts by foreign powers to force a bad decision.


    Democracy fails when too many people vote based either on feelings or on superficial factors that have nothing to do with the merits of the candidates or issue, like the shape of a person¡¯s chin.


    Every person does have a stake in government and should have some say in it. But we need some way to ensure that the people voting at least care enough to pay attention to the actual problem.


    -- Professor Lazarus L. Harshaw, PhD, Political Science, Washington State University, 2026


    ***


    Four boxes landed beside me seconds before Ginny fired on an approaching M-3, reminding me that we had monsters incoming. I started selecting targets and dropping Anti¡¯s. Knowing that the M-5s were coming, I changed my tactics. Normally, I would start with the closest and work my way back. This kept the tide away for as long as possible. However, I wanted to engage the ranged models quickly, so I concentrated on the ones coming in, keeping my aim near the back wall. That way, once I spotted the M-5c, it would be faster to switch before it could become a danger. The others would have to deal with the leakers as they got closer.


    It half worked. I spotted an M-5c while it was still along the back wall, between two pipes. I was instantly on it, sending a rare double tap into the monster¡¯s shoulder and neck. The heavier rounds of the Tribulator had made such quick work of the other models that I underestimated the amount of damage an M-5c could take. My rounds hit clean, and I could see clear penetration wounds. It shrugged the damage off and pulled back behind a chunk of inert machinery. It briefly left behind its tail, which flicked in my direction. ¡°Down!¡± I called, dropping to my knees behind the console and banging my helmet on the edge.


    Ginny bounced behind the barrier, quick as a rabbit. She leaned out slightly to keep firing past Kaitlyn, who was already mostly covered. Behind and above me, I heard three hits on the wall. Whack-whack-whack.


    I poked my head and rifle around the side of the console until I could see the M-5c. It had jumped on top of a pair of pipes and was retracting its tail for another launching flick. Blood dripped down its neck where I had wounded it. I quickly lined up again, and this time my shots found the head. Its jaw burst into a pulp, and one eye became a bloody hole moments before it fell off the machine.


    As it fell, I gave it another shot for good measure before tracking down and to the right, where the other M-5c had started to emerge. I served it three high-velocity rounds, clustered tight on what would have been the nose. After the third shot, a spray of blood painted the cabinet behind it, and it too collapsed.


    "Clear,¡± I called, standing up to continue targeting aliens. After a few minutes, we¡¯d cleared the room again, and Tara confirmed no new Anti''s were coming. As I turned to the boxes containing the masks, I saw Ginny¡¯s face turn white.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± She asked. She was searching my face and head; her hands twitched as if to try to run them over my head.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. Not a scratch,¡± I said.


    ¡°You might want to look at your helmet.¡± Kaitlyn, too, had a worried look.


    I unbuckled my helmet and felt the cooler air chilling my sweaty hair. A long gash ran down the headpiece from front to back along the crown. Fibers stuck out at odd angles from the damage. I turned it over and could see the deep bulge on the inside mirroring the damage on the outside. Looking up at the wall behind us, there was a close cluster of quills, no more than a hand¡¯s spread apart. Above the others, a single quill stuck at a different angle, deflected from the group by my helmet.


    ¡°Right, uh¡­¡± I ran my fingers through my hair. Other than more sweat, I only found a slight lump. I hadn¡¯t even noticed the blow in the excitement of combat. I tried to pull the quill out of the wall, but it wouldn¡¯t come free, so deeply was it buried. A chill came over me, as if the breeze from the reaper''s scythe had blown down my spine. On the heels of that chill, I felt a longing for my parents¡¯ embrace and to see my sister¡¯s smile again.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Ginny shifted, bringing me back to here and now. The concern in their eyes reminded me that the three needed me present and focused. I cleared my throat. ¡°Yes. Corie, I think I¡¯ll need a new helmet. Maybe something with a partial face shield to hide these ugly glasses.¡± As a rule, I wasn¡¯t the kind to care deeply about my looks. For these glasses, however, I would make an exception. I hoped that my sister never saw them, or I¡¯d never hear the end of it.


    ¡°A reasonable-quality helmet will require a new catalog. Have you put any thought into your defense plan?¡±


    ¡°I have some ideas, but now is not the time for big decisions. Something simple, light, and effective will do for now.¡±


    "Catalog Unlocked: Class I Modular Equipment


    Cost: 100 Remaining points: 1,193


    "Purchased: PP5 Integrated Systems Helmet


    Cost: 60 Remaining points: 1,133¡±


    The helmet that I pulled out of the box was a simple armed forces kit. It had integrated protective earbuds and a broad mirrored half-face shield in an iridescent gold with undertones of blue and red.


    ¡°The active hearing protection keeps the volume to safe levels, reacting fast enough for you to hear a whispered word in the midst of a gunfight in a windstorm. With how much time you spend around guns, you¡¯ll need all the hearing protection you can get. When the nanites were healing you earlier, they reported also fixing a heavily damaged cochlea. If that had continued, even you would have noticed the hearing loss in a couple of years.


    ¡°Oh, and the visor has active tinting to reduce any lights suddenly shining in your eyes. It is detachable too.¡±


    I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the hearing protection. I usually avoided it if I could due to the closed-in pressure I felt from the active noise suppression. The technology they used must have been considerably better, as the suppression disappeared from my senses as soon as I put them on.


    I handed out the masks (complete with Kaitlyn grumbling about it messing up her hair), then asked Tara if she could handle more than one drone.


    ¡°I¡¯m still learning, so I probably should only have one moving at a time. The autopilot is stupid and can¡¯t be trusted. The software can switch between up to six views without any problem. They don¡¯t take much attention when sitting still.¡±


    ¡°Two more drones, please, Corie. One to check deeper and see how far we are from the hive. And the other as a spare.¡±


    Two more boxes dropped, and one drone flew off.


    "Purchased: Chibat two-mode drone with low-light upgrade


    Cost: 30 (Qty: 2) Remaining points: 1,103¡±


    I kept an eye on the new drone¡¯s progress in the corner of my eye as I turned to the next problem. ¡°I¡¯m starting to get worried about the buildup of bodies. If they stack up too much, they might be able to climb up here. The only thing that comes to mind is to burn them. Do any of you have an idea for how to deal with all these bodies?¡± I turned to the ladies beside me.


    Kaitlyn viewed the mess with dismay. ¡°How much do we want to damage the machinery? I mean, some of it is pretty fucked already.¡° She waved her hand to indicate all the bullet holes and dents from missed shots. ¡°Someone is going to have to fix this. Are they going to hold us accountable for it?¡±


    ¡°Nearly all insurance has provisions for damage from Vanguards in the course of doing their duties. Since they are here with you, Kaitlyn and the others should be protected.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right, I¡¯m a Samurai now. If any corp comes after you for this, let me know.¡± I smiled


    ¡°How about an acid thing?¡± Ginny suggested. ¡°Fire¡¯s only going to set off the sprinklers, and then we¡¯ll be soaking wet and still have a pile of bodies.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, because wet clothes would just be the cherry on our cake of problems,¡± Kaitlyn said. ¡°I think that Exeter Dan uses something chemical for a cleanup. He called it the Kniesen ECR once and often ends his streams by tossing one over his shoulder.¡± I stared at her for a minute. ¡°It¡¯s one of his signature moves.¡±


    ¡°There is an aerosol of enzymes that matches that name. It can clear out the bodies, but it is not particularly fast. It is cheap, though, and accessible through your Combat Engineering Essentials catalog.¡±


    ¡°How cheap? And how slow?¡±


    ¡°One can would be the standard dose for a room this size and costs 5 points. It will take a couple hours to reduce the hundreds of bodies into a liquid. It¡¯s actually designed for this type of siege battlefield.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s Samurai-approved, it must be good,¡± I said without a hint of irony. All three ladies snickered. ¡°Sounds like we have a winner. And I think we can splurge and get three cans to see if that speeds it up.¡±


    Three boxes appeared, with large cans in them. The tops had a small nozzle and a simple dial to set how long of a delay before release. I tossed them out evenly over the room. Each can released a white smoke that quickly settled down to form a low-hanging, ankle-deep fog. It added a surreal serenity to the killing ground below.

 Arc 1, Chapter 11 -- Meanwhile, around the corner

    The lieutenant was caught flat footed and with his shorts around his knees. Had he followed proper protocol, as advised by his lead sergeant at the time, he would have known that there were antithesis in the region.


    The alien Swat, consisting of eight M-3, two M-4, one M-5 and one M-6, was well within the threat level that the unit could have handled had it even a few minutes to find cover and prepare.


    Adequate use of drone detection would have allowed the Lieutenant to determine the direction of the antithesis and prepare his troops for the attack. The unit had no less than six soldiers who were drone scout qualified, three with a master rating. It had the full complement of twenty drones, all in working order and fully charged at the time of the incident. Even the minimal three drone inner shell on automatic deployment and warning would have given plenty of warning for him to be ready for the antithesis¡¯s attack.


    Given the terrain, his forward point man was not extended far enough out to be of any use, and it is only thanks to the initiative of his flank sweepers that anyone survived. The lives of seven men lay squarely at the feet of the lieutenant. Promotion is unadvised and criminal action should be considered.


    -- After action review, Major Corin, 2052


    ***


    We settled into a watchful silence and waited for the next wave.


    ¡°Beasts, many, many.¡± Tara broke the silence. I checked the feed of the watchdog drone, and it showed nothing but a clear hallway. I switched the video in my glasses to see another, larger corridor filled with Anti¡¯s.


    ¡°How far out is that?¡±


    ¡°Twenty minutes at the current pace. The other drone¡¯s camera is set to alarm me if there¡¯s any change. Between that and the rest-state while stuck on the ceiling, its charge should last a couple days.¡± In the camera, the wave ended with a stack of five M-5c. ¡°I¡¯m going to push on deeper; I think I¡¯m close to the hive.¡±


    As the last of the monsters turned a corner, the view of the hall twisted and dropped before settling into a steady view of the hall and starting down it. In minutes, the drone soon found a shattered doorway leading to a large room filled with large plant-like growths. Roots spread along every surface before diving into cracks forced into the walls. On the far side, a large pipe had burst. Below it, the plant matter had formed a collection bowl filled with brown sludge.


    ¡°What¡¯s that stuff?¡± Ginny asked. I guessed that either Corie or Tara had added them to the video feed.


    I considered the lumpy mass for a few minutes as rafts of white drifted around the space. A large wormlike antithesis crawled up to the tub and started slurping it down.


    Kaitlyn tripped on the answer first. ¡°It¡¯s sewer water. The waste is largely organic, getting pumped straight to the hive.¡±


    I realized that she was right. ¡°So that¡¯s how the hive has grown so large. We¡¯ve been mainlining organic matter straight into our enemy¡¯s veins.¡±


    ¡°You mean that¡¯s... Ewww.¡± I minimized the video to see Ginny with a disgusted look on her face.


    ¡°Even the pope does it,¡± I said with a shrug. ¡°Corie. Can you see this? What are we looking at?¡±


    ¡°That is hive infrastructure, something akin to a blood vessel. See there?¡± The camera had steadied down and was starting to slowly pan from a fixed point. Ropey vines and thick trunks spread over and out from holes in the wall. Hanging from some of them were semi-transparent sacks filled with a yellow fluid. ¡°Those are growth sacks for antithesis. Model Fours, based on the size.¡±


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


    ¡°Tara, do you have coordinates for that room?¡± I asked. ¡°Please ping them to me and go back to follow that big group. I need to make a call.¡±


    ¡°Aye aye. Sending it to you now.¡± The drone turned around and started showing empty hallways again.


    I stepped a short way from the ladies along the walkway. ¡°Corie, can you have Jonnie Be Good call me? Or are you able to get his contact details?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still not allowed to touch the phone system. There¡¯s a Vanguard AI who is sponsoring and monitoring the phones, and it won¡¯t authorize me until I can sync with you. But I can talk to Wylbur and see if he¡¯s free to call you.¡±


    A short pause later, my phone rang with the default ringtone, indicating someone who was not in my contacts. I answered it with my usual. ¡°Marcus here.¡±


    ¡°Ah, my little duckling! Wylbur said you were asking for me? I¡¯m about three-quarters through getting containment set up. It shouldn¡¯t be long until you can pull back.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve pushed forward a drone and found what looks like the hive, or part of it. I¡¯m having Corie send the coordinates over to Wylbur.¡±


    ¡°Thanks; that might help the cleanup crews. The plan is to starve it out. There can¡¯t be that much organic material in the building. It was mostly manufacturing and call centers.¡±


    ¡°No, sir. I don¡¯t think that will be possible. The part we saw had an open sewer pipe, and the hive was collecting it.¡±


    ¡°Shit.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. It might be waste, but it is still organic material. We¡¯ve been giving the hive exactly what it needs¡ªspecial delivery.¡±


    ¡°That changes things. I¡¯ll have to take a different approach.¡±


    ¡°One last bit of intel. I¡¯ve rescued three people who had escaped from a cult down here. It¡¯s been kidnapping people for a sacrifice. Last they knew, and that was hours ago, there were a lot of captives, and the cult was ramping up for that sacrifice. I¡¯m going to see if we can find their location, in case you want to do an airstrike or something expansive.¡±


    There was a long pause at the other end of the phone. ¡°There''ve been some rumors of a pro-antithesis cult in the area. I don¡¯t like the coincidence of that cult being so close to the hive. Xenovir, do you think you can get those people out?¡± Jonnie had become surprisingly formal all of a sudden.


    A chill shivered down my spine. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I have no way to protect the civilians I do have while I go for them. That severely limits my options.¡± Tara started waving at me. ¡°I have to go.¡± I hung up on the phone and checked the camera feeds. The first drone still showed only an empty hallway. The other was pressed against the wall of the corridor and slowly walked its way towards a corner.


    ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± I asked.


    ¡°The big group turned and did not come for us. I saw them slow down as they made this turn. I thought you¡¯d want to see.¡±


    I nodded and expanded the video in my glasses. Around the corner was a meter-deep hall ending with a pair of wide open doors. Beyond the door was a cafeteria large enough to hold several hundred hungry employees. The drone crept closer, poking its camera into the room, and started panning from left to right.


    Drink dispensers and condiment displays cluttered the back wall below colorful signs. Anti¡¯s of all kinds made chaos out of the carefully manicured order in the chairs and tables. In some places, they clumped together with their heads down. I estimated that anywhere from two to three hundred Anti¡¯s filled the floor.


    At the end of the room, the camera view elevated and started to pan left. Attached to the roof was an assembly of chains and tracks. Human bodies dangled from the tracks like some sick automated buffet. Ginny gasped as the far wall¡®s upper reaches started to show windows. People showed through the glass, some staring down at the mass of antithesis morbidly, others with their backs pressed as if trying to avoid something in the room beyond.


    The camera relentlessly panned, finally reaching the left wall. A balcony of sorts had been pushed out into the room, caged with spikes to hold off the M-4s that climbed around it. A couple of people lifted up a stiff body and attached it to the gantry above. It started to swing out and start a new macabre path around the room, taunting the aliens below. At the edge of the balcony, a middle-aged man stood, draped in elaborate full-length robes. He stared down at the swarming antithesis, his hands spread as if receiving a blessing.


    The drone launched, flying a straight line towards the man. A shadow flickered at the edges of the video before the picture jumbled and went dead. ¡°Drone down,¡± Tara said. She had pushed herself back into the corner again, keeping all of us between her and the entrances.


    ¡°What was that? Who was that?¡± I asked, avoiding the dreadful thought that came to mind.


    Kaitlyn replied with a sour look on her face. ¡°That was Darren Kittritch, First Idiot and Grand Sociopath of the Church of the Ever Seven. And the man who kidnapped us.¡±

 Arc 1, Chapter 12 -- Clean up

    ¡°It looks like a decent selection today, but I might come up empty-handed today; that bitch Genera¡¯s here.¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s not a problem for me. She has that hangup about size¡ªthe bigger the better. I have to limit myself to the hand-sized ones. If it¡¯s too big, it won¡¯t fit. I see that they have a Silver Hoop, those aren¡¯t common.¡±


    ¡°They have a new edition of Buinel. Wonder what¡¯s changed? I bet it¡¯s spicy enough to really get people going.¡±


    ¡°Did you notice that the main event is an early model Sprocket Rocket? The brochure says it¡¯s barely customized even. I wonder how big it is? I might try for that one.¡±


    ¡°Meh, I¡¯m just here for the Emoscythe Mordeath Noir in the third set. I need to complete my tops set.¡±


    --Over heard conversation in the lobby of Lloyds Auction House, before an award winning auction of Samurai gear boxes.


    ***


    ¡°What is he trying to do?¡± I asked. My mind raced ahead, and I realized that I didn¡¯t care. ¡°Scratch that. How did you escape? Can one of you draw up the way there?¡± They must have escaped using a different route. I couldn¡¯t see the trio, as lightly armed as I¡¯d found them, getting through that many antithesis. I very much did not want to have to fight through all those Anti¡¯s. That would certainly warn the cultists, and who knows how they would react? The cultists were not going to like us killing the aliens they were collecting and might get desperate.


    ¡°We came here through the same side door you did. To get here, we had to go through a couple strong security doors that Tara hacked. I don¡¯t think the Anti¡¯s could have made it through those doors. We closed them behind us to keep the cult from following.¡± Ginny pulled my tablet out of Tara¡¯s hands and started drawing on an app. ¡°The cells were tiny, a bit bigger than your reach. We could freely walk between them, but if any of the cultists entered the prison, you had to go into a cell quickly. The walls were all metal.¡±


    ¡°The metal was charged; a faraday cage to prevent signals.¡± Tara added. ¡°Touch it wrong, you get shocked. They didn¡¯t want to take out our augs and risk us dying afterwards, so they used jammers instead.¡±


    Ginny had finished up her sketch. ¡°This is not at all to scale. Here are the cells, and the hole out. I do mean hole; I barely fit through.¡± She gestured to her hip, where there were tears in her jeans. ¡°I¡¯m not sure you will. That dumps into a larger room, which had the first security door. Then another series of rooms along a hallway. At the end is the second security door with a booth, which is where we found the guns. After that, it was a series of hallways until we arrived here.¡±


    She looked me in the eye as she returned the tablet to Tara. ¡°Why did you want to know that?¡± asked Ginny.


    ¡°There¡¯s an old saying: ¡®A bird in the hand beats two in the bush.¡¯ I¡¯m wondering how well that scales. Three in the hand against a hundred in the prison?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Tara said, staring me in the face. Her voice was firm and had lost any hint of breathiness. ¡°I won¡¯t go back. It¡¯s not safe there. The Anti¡¯s are coming, and they want to put them into us and into them, and then there will be screaming.¡± She grabbed me and clung. I felt her trembling as she buried her face in my chest. I gently curled my arms around her in a protective embrace.


    ¡°Tara, how many prisoners were left at the cult?¡± I asked.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°One hundred thirteen, including twelve minors, four elderly, six paraplegics with their cybernetics removed, and three nut jobs.¡± She looked at me. ¡°Myself not included. You want to go back.¡± It was a statement, simple and not accusing.


    ¡°How many of those prisoners deserved to die at the hands of the cult?¡±


    She craned her head to look up at me while still pressing against my body. I could see fear in her eyes and a little shame. ¡°Four are convicted criminals, three abuse their spouses or children, and one of the old men is a pervert.¡± I raised an eyebrow at this litany. ¡°Also, I hacked their augments. His aug¡¯s storage is disgusting.¡±


    Ginny settled down with us and stroked Tara¡¯s hair. ¡°Tara, do you remember that little girl two cells down?¡±


    Tara nodded her head. ¡°She had the cute barrettes in her hair.¡±


    ¡°You wanted to bring her but couldn¡¯t. Do you remember?¡±


    ¡°She had a broken leg. Wouldn¡¯t fit in the hole. Couldn¡¯t run.¡±


    ¡°Yes. We were going to get help¡ªto bring people back to save her.¡±


    Tara nodded. ¡°We tried once we were out of the suppression, but the emergency services bot glitched.¡±


    Kaitlyn still stood before the console, but had been listening in. ¡°Stupid bot got tied up in procedural hell. Three young women are not enough to warrant a full callout, but the cult¡¯s too big an issue to be handled by a patrol car.¡±


    ¡°Well, now we have Marcus. We can be the ones to go save her. Think we can do that?¡± Ginny still stroked Tara¡¯s hair, and I could feel her grip loosen.


    ¡°I won¡¯t let them take me.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t let them,¡± I promised. ¡°You don¡¯t have to go all the way back. You could stand guard at the security door. If any cultists or Anti¡¯s come, you can lock the door and run. Will that work?¡± It might make handling the prisoners harder, but we¡¯d manage.


    Tara nodded and slowly let go of me. She started shoving gear into my backpack. In her spare time, she had neatly stacked the Samurai boxes in a corner, and they formed a tidy pile. I frowned at them for a minute.


    ¡°Corie, what are the rules on including or not including the boxes on my purchases? Does it cost more to include them?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no extra cost to the boxes unless we start customizing the way they look. On the other hand, there¡¯s no discount for not including them. It is part of the Vanguard tradition now, however, and not having the boxes could lead to issues.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t too worried about my image. I did, however, have problems with useless waste. If push came to shove, I¡¯d make not having any boxes part of my image. I wondered how much of our landfills were taken up by all the boxes strewn about by the Samurai. ¡°For mundane purchases where practical, I¡¯d rather not have the box, please. Our landfills have enough to deal with.¡±


    ¡°Noted. Most of the Samurai boxes are either repurposed or traded as collectibles. One box from Hairumas sold for hundreds of millions of credits at auction last year. Others are in labs, where they analyze the materials to learn more about them. They almost never end up in the trash. And the few that do end up thrown away get salvaged.¡±


    ¡°While we¡¯re doing housekeeping, let¡¯s put a running total of my points on my glasses in the upper left.¡±


    In one of the drawers of the console, Kaitlyn had found a canvas tote bag filled with the plastic storage of someone¡¯s lunch. She and Tara split up the remaining ammo between my backpack and the bag. And with that, we left the machine room. It felt like we had been there for days, but when I checked the time on my clock, we had only been in there for a couple hours at most.


    ¡°Ginny, can you take the rear? Check it often so we don¡¯t have any Threes catching us in the sensitive spot. I¡¯ll take the front, with Tara and Kaitlyn in the middle.¡± Out in the hallway, I showed them how I had been marking my path and which way lay the safest way out. After that, the way proved as simple as they had described. Leaving the watchdog in place, Tara directed the other drone to range ahead as a scout. Only the occasional door broke the plain white wall. We briefly paused at each to lock them shut with sealing foam.


    The first security door was in sight when I heard Kaitlyn¡¯s hissed ¡°Yes!¡± behind me. I looked at her, and she suddenly had a slightly guilty look on her face.


    Ginny nudged her friend in the ribs with an elbow. ¡°Don¡¯t hold it in; share the good news!¡±


    ¡°Xenovir just hit two thousand.¡±

 Arc 1, Chapter 13 -- A Short Break In a Quiet Place

    How¡¯s Xeno and his little troop of groundhogs going? Any updates?


    I¡¯ve said it before, and I¡¯ll keep on saying it: he¡¯s never going to get anywhere with that peashooter.


    To really clear out their numbers, you have to go wholesale.


    That means explosives; if it don¡¯t go boom, you¡¯re leaving power on the table.


    A little collateral damage is the price you pay to be sure you get them all.


    -- AirGirlGoBoom, Live chat updates on new Samurai in Portland


    ***


    The points counter in my glasses still read 1,038. ¡°Two thousand what?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Subscriptions. Since I couldn¡¯t find your feeds, I started a new account, and it just reached two thousand subscribers.¡±


    I felt a tinge of dread. ¡°Is that for social media?¡± Even I knew that it was near impossible to change a name once social media had a hold of it.


    ¡°Mhm. I¡¯ve been doing a live chat update on what¡¯s going on. And a couple screenshots. I alerted most of the people I know and hit up Ginny¡¯s feed too. That¡¯s probably where most of the subs are from. It¡¯s not like the Anti¡¯s will be reading it to know where we are.¡±


    ¡°You know the Ever Seven could be reading that too, right?¡± Ginny asked.


    ¡°I¡¯m not some mesh noob. The account is new and not linked directly to us. And I haven¡¯t mentioned them by name, even indirectly. Any spider that could web through our friends will take too long. Besides, they are busy with the Anti¡¯s.¡± Kaitlyn glanced off to the side, then snorted. ¡°There¡¯s some girl that¡¯s been pestering me for updates; she goes by the name of AirGirlGoBoom. She¡¯s kind of annoying.¡±


    That sounded suspiciously familiar. ¡°Ask her why her plane is painted green.¡±


    Kaitlyn waggled her fingers in the air for a few minutes. "Oooh, that set her off... I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll repeat that language.¡±


    I smirked. ¡°Tell her to behave and watch her language, or I¡¯ll tell mom.¡±


    ¡°That shut her up. Do you know her?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it¡¯s my sister, so be nice. She¡¯s really into the social media thing. For me, on the other hand, I¡¯d be surprised if you found anything. I have one, but I never use it beyond talking with a couple of friends.¡± That drew a shocked look from her, like usual. Sometimes I felt like a true heretic due to my lack of presence.


    ¡°She¡¯s right, I had to dig deep to find enough data to prove you were good Vanguard material. It¡¯s a good thing that you¡¯re more open with the gamers you play with.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hard to do anything on social media when there¡¯s no two-way connection. It¡¯s not like I could interact with people in real time without proper augs.¡±


    The door clicked and popped open as Tara joined the conversation. ¡°Your augs are strange, I couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of them. You should fix that.¡±


    I cleared the hallway beyond, noting a security room to my left and a hallway leading forward around five meters before turning right. There were a few subtle squares in the ceiling, likely drop-down turrets. ¡°Did you disable the turrets too?¡± I asked before taking a step inside.


    ¡°They¡¯re fake; plastic toys with servos. I think someone was embezzling the company. Probably why it went out of business.¡±


    ¡°Why do you think that it went out of business?¡±


    ¡°All the furniture is gone. They would have sold even the filing cabinets to pay off their debts. Bankruptcy is forever.¡±


    ¡°And the embezzling?¡± I crept into the hallway, rifle at present.


    ¡°According to a 2048 survey, eighty percent of businesses encounter some kind of embezzling, often several times. Of those, twenty percent of the time the amount taken is enough to cause the company to collapse. It¡¯s the most likely reason.¡± I turned the corner to find a short hallway. At the midpoint, each side had two doors set at an angle. The far end held another security door with a window this time. After checking that the rooms were as empty as the ladies claimed, I had them close and lock the security door behind us.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Let¡¯s take a break. In fact, let¡¯s get something to eat. There should be some power bars in my pack, Tara.¡± While we hadn¡¯t fought any Anti¡¯s in close to twenty minutes, we had been on alert for a couple hours now. And it sounded like the ladies hadn¡¯t had any sleep in days. We needed to re-energize before the final push to rescue the prisoners.


    With a sigh, I settled against the wall and fully relaxed for the first time in hours. ¡°We can¡¯t rest long, but I do have something I need to take care of, now that we are in a safe spot.¡±


    ¡°For one point each, you can get a fully nutritious meal. For a second point, I can include boosters that will give you all more energy and alertness. It¡¯s more effective than an energy drink and lasts longer.¡±


    ¡°That sounds good. Anyone have any allergies or food preferences?¡± Proving that the norm can be upset, all three ladies shook their heads. ¡°Four meals. Special delivery, please, Corie.¡±


    The meals arrived steaming hot on biodegradable plates. I had a pasta-based meat sauce with vegetables on the side. The noodles were perfectly tender, and the sauce was tangy. I found it amazingly delicious. Too soon, they were finished, and it was finally time to meet my AI properly.


    ¡°So how do we do this, Corie?¡±


    Her answer appeared on my glasses again, maybe for the last time. ¡°There¡¯s a serum you inject into your torso. It contains everything needed to grow the gland, which will take several minutes.


    ¡°The gland is partly biological and partly silicon. The biological side rests between the basal ganglia and the cerebrum, connecting to both halves. From there, it extends down to the silicon sections that will rest along your spine. The additional connections will trigger an underconscious that will help with processing and data management, as well as manage the silicon side for any cyber connections you develop. On the silicon side, it has as much processing as a high-end aug, with all the usual consumer connections built in.


    ¡°You should experience a seamless integration between the underconscious and the silicon processing that is often referred to as a hind-brain. Most of the time, it will operate below your awareness, improving your cognitive functions naturally as well as transmitting nerve data faster. You¡¯d only really notice it when it dips deeply into the cyber side to run apps or external systems.


    ¡°The use and connection to the cyber part will be intuitively controlled but feel slightly separated. More like a hand than a part of your mind. With experience, you¡¯ll also find that you can think a lot faster this way. With practice and experience, you can use the hind-brain to automate a lot, letting you concentrate on greater issues.


    ¡°This shouldn¡¯t hurt, but it might feel strange. But I¡¯ll be able to sync up with the gland from the cyber side, and we can finally then interact properly.¡±


    ¡°Let¡¯s do this.¡±


    "Catalog Unlocked: Valerian SymSynTech


    Cost: 300 Remaining points: 780


    "Catalog Unlocked: Class I Basic Cyberwarfare Utilities


    Cost: 100 Remaining points: 680


    "Purchased: Valerian SymTech Gland


    Cost: 200 Remaining points: 480¡±


    A Samurai box dropped on the floor before me. I opened it to find a padded container with a deep-blue, faceted cylinder longer than my hand and thicker than my thumb. On one end was a small bit of silver machinery. When I lifted it up, I nearly dropped it. The sides were slippery, and the tube weighed less than I expected.


    ¡°I might scream. Don¡¯t panic if I do.¡± I told the ladies who were watching me. I lay flat on the ground and touched the metal bit to my skin. There was a slight prick, and the blue part of the tube sank into the metal, collapsing like a telescope. When the crystal was completely consumed, I noticed tiny claws release my skin, and the metal dropped away.


    A firm pressure started in the center of my back, between the kidneys, growing stronger for several minutes. The pressure increased until I felt an odd tingling spark run up and down my spine. My arms and legs twitched uncontrollably, and my lungs forced air past my spasming vocal chords. The convulsions slowed, growing softer and gentler, finally fading to nothing. Nothing seemed to happen for several minutes. Suddenly, as if opening a window to catch a cool breeze, my mind cleared, and my thoughts took on a sharpness I¡¯d never felt before.


    --Oh, I¡¯ve been waiting so long to say this. Here we go.


    I didn¡¯t hear Corie¡¯s voice with my ears. In fact, I didn¡¯t receive her message as speech at all, but rather a direct, sudden impression of meaning that held the symbols of words, reinforced with a depth of nuance impossible with words. It felt odd, but also natural. Compared to her text messages, which were often dry and cold, the sendings overflowed with emotion. It gave her an unexpected depth of personality, which came through in bubbly, light, almost childlike tones.


    --System Initialized!


    --Congratulations. Through your actions, you have proven yourself worthy of becoming one of the Vanguard, a defender of humanity. I am Andronymicusde¡¯cor. I will assist you to uplift humanity so that you may defend your homeworld from the antithesis threat!


    --Rise, Marcus Corin, and become a protector of the weak!


    ¡°Wait, I¡¯m a Vanguard?¡± I asked, playing along.

 Arc 1, Chapter 14 -- Break in to break out

    ¡°How can you lose a building?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not the whole building, just a good chunk of it. About a thousand EMEU(*). Do you know how many of those we have over the 500 buildings we own?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t care that it¡¯s a small amount. How can we have any unused space like that? We¡¯re leaving money on some table here.¡±


    ¡°The original contractor sublet a big chunk. Who then sublet sections that they didn¡¯t need. It¡¯s changed hands six times in three years, getting divided up and recombined as the sub-leases were sold off. We¡¯ve got several legal teams pouring over the contracts, but they all seem legitimate. Somewhere along the way, one of the middle companies tits upped and pulled out. That collapsed the stack, but the net income was what we were expecting, so we never checked the availability.¡±


    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we at least have approvals for the remodeling?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s Ted¡¯s department.¡±


    *Eight Meter Equivalent Units. A standard division of space based on an average office that is 8 Meters by 8 meters.


    -- Overheard watercooler conversation at a midsized building management and real estate firm.


    ***


    Corie giggled, a joyous little burble in her childlike voice.


    --Yes, you very much are a Vanguard. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I have so much to talk with you about, but I fear we don¡¯t have the time.


    I thought about the prisoners and the danger they were in from the cultists. ¡°Unfortunately, you are right.¡±


    --One quick thing. You don¡¯t have to speak for me to hear you this way. You''ll feel in the interface an open channel leading out. That''s the link to me, push the thought into it, and I''ll hear it. I can¡¯t hear your thoughts, even when you vocalize to yourself, though. It takes you wanting to project it for me to hear you, but it should feel natural to send it that way.


    <Like this?>


    After considering her instructions, I thought at her in my mind, sending my thoughts without forming words but with an extra mental push in the right direction. I realized that communicating this way, with direct meaning, was considerably faster than speech or anything using words. I didn¡¯t usually think of talking as slow, but sharing meaning this way was nearly instantaneous.


    --Exactly! Oh, this will be so much fun!


    While we were talking (for want of a better word), I had been rearranging several items in the UI for my glasses. I was about halfway through when it hit me that I¡¯d been doing that so easily, but still on automatic. I always customized my interfaces and adjusted them by habit. In the fast-paced games I played online, an optimized user interface which put controls within easy reach went a long way towards bridging the speed gap from not having any augs. I was good enough at it that most of the people I played with had no clue I was a naught.


    <I hadn¡¯t realized how much this would change how I think.>


    --Isn¡¯t it great? You can do so much more now, like link to a huge number of drones if you want and monitor all the feeds at once. Speaking of which, I¡¯m going to upload your tablet¡¯s apps and settings to the hind-brain. They are compatible enough, and the hind-brain¡¯s processing is a thousand times greater than the tablet. Oh, and you should give Tara permission on the drone app, so she doesn¡¯t freak out more.


    ¡°The drone feed just went dead.¡± Tara was looking scared, and I quickly set out to reassure her.


    ¡°Sorry about that. I¡¯ll get you access here in a sec. I should have thought about it. The upgrade included a lot of cyber-adjacent stuff. I¡¯m now able to have a fully functioning aug-gear equivalent to link up with computer systems. That includes better control for the drones, but I had to move where they were running from. There, that should let you in.¡± While talking, I had been running a number of commands with Corie''s guidance to allow Tara access.


    ¡°I think we¡¯re rested up.¡± I looked around, and they all nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s get busy and break a prison.¡± We stood and moved to the end of the hallway.


    This security door contained a window beyond which was a dark room. The only light was faint, coming from the left. In the gloom, I could make out that the far wall was made of a different material with patches of lighter and darker vertical bars.


    ¡°Tara, can you unlock the door?¡±


    She gave a small nod but continued to cling to the wall behind us.


    ¡°My plan, generally, is to bring the prisoners into these rooms behind us. But not past the other security door. Tara, you¡¯ll be the door guard here. Have the people move into those side rooms and wait for us. Once they are out and safe, we can organize them for the rest of the evacuation. Let¡¯s set up a conference call, so we can keep in touch.¡±


    ¡°Won¡¯t work. The cultists suppress any signals in the prison area.¡± Tara said.


    ¡°She¡¯s right,¡± Kaitlyn added. ¡°Even here, I¡¯m starting to get signal loss and dropouts in the chat channel.¡±


    Stolen story; please report.


    "Corie, is there anything we can do about that?¡± It felt more natural to use my voice than to send messages to her directly. And the others were used to it by now.


    --We have a bunch of new options now. By doing a combo from the Sensor Drones and your new Cyberwarfare catalogs, we can get a Carrier Pigeon Signal Drone. It can both boost the signal of your augs, and link them to the outside. It will also monitor and detect other EM sources, like the ones used by other people¡¯s augs. Did I mention your hind-brain can handle more drones now? No more limiting yourself to only six birds in the air.


    <Let¡¯s go with that.>


    --That will be twenty points.


    A larger drone dropped onto my hand. It had a large bulbous body and ducted fans in a standard quad layout. The fans spun up, and it slowly lifted off before moving slowly around the hallway for a few minutes. It seemed particularly ungainly in the air to me.


    ¡°Tara, Please unlock the door. While she¡¯s at it, can you join the phone conference, Corie?¡± Out of curiosity, I tried to follow Tara¡¯s work. I was able to link up to the door¡¯s control systems, but from there, she flicked through options faster than I could read. Suddenly the door clicked, and I cut the net connection. Growing up without augs had left me ignorant in many ways.


    --You should be able to pick up those aspects of cyber warfare pretty quickly. We can look into ways to get you any training you want. I¡¯m in the phone conference. Now that you have an interface, I can do a lot more with your connections, including access the phone services.


    <Maybe later.> I started an organization app that I¡¯d used a lot on my tablet and started a new list titled: Upgrade Ideas. I added the training to the list, with a low priority. I had a lot of lists like this, most were only a few words of reminder about something to get back to later.


    I pulled open the door and checked both sides, finding that we were clear. The room was six meters by twenty-five. We entered in the middle of one of the long walls, with the other one being a tall fabrication of corrugated metal. Other than the windows on the left wall, the only light in the room spilled from the door behind us.


    I went over to the window and saw the cafeteria below still filled with Anti¡¯s. A few more bodies had been added to the rotary. I leaned to the side but could not get an angle on the balcony. What a pity. This would have made a great sniper perch if I were only interested in assassinating the leader.


    Ginny called to me from the other end. In the farthest corner, Kaitlyn was kneeling at a small hole. As I approached, I saw that a part of the metal had been bent up towards us, and some of the room¡¯s wall next to it was dug out to allow more space. I subvocalized into the phone conference. ¡°Let¡¯s think about this for a minute. Corie, are you on this call?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m here. It¡¯s so nice to finally talk to you, Tara. You too, Kaitlyn. I love what you¡¯ve done with that so-me post. Hello Ginny!¡± Corie¡¯s phone voice had the same high-pitched, childlike tone as her mental voice, delivered at the rapid pace of a hyper-caffeinated tween.


    I rolled my eyes. ¡°Not now. Is the metal enough to cause the EMI? Or is there more to it than that?¡±


    ¡°Three sides are covered in this metal. There¡¯s fine mesh over the windows. And the roof, too. The last side points to them. Some kind of active jammer covers their space.¡± Tara said.


    ¡°If you put another Pigeon on the other side, they can link up via laser. That would get you a solid connection through the prison.¡± Corie added.


    ¡°If we make this hole larger, but not so large that the cultists could see it, could we sneak everyone out? How long until the cultists notice, do you think?¡±


    Ginny answered this one. ¡°They don¡¯t have cameras in the prison, but there are walkthroughs. Usually in groups of three or four. While they are sloppy about the timing, I don¡¯t think we¡¯d have more than twenty minutes without being found out.¡±


    ¡°And the worst case is that there¡¯s a patrol when we go in. I think we need a bigger exit.¡± I said.


    ¡°That would be better.¡± Ginny gestured to the small hole. ¡°There¡¯s... a few who would have trouble getting through anything smaller than a full doorway.¡± She held her hands out well away from her sides.


    ¡°Corie, you mentioned a way to break through walls before. Are there any that do not involve explosions and flying shrapnel?¡±


    ¡°Definitely. There¡¯s an electrically activated acid that can cut through this in seconds. For five points, you could cut through a bunch of the cells all at once.¡± Corie¡¯s voice reflected her excitement at my buying something new.


    ¡°Once the way is clear, is there a way to ping the prisoner¡¯s augs and let them know not to panic and that we¡¯re here to help?¡±


    Tara hesitated. ¡°I can send out texts one by one. And only to the people I know about.¡±


    Corie responded. ¡°I can use the Vanguard channel to broadcast something. That would get them all, but it might catch a couple cultists.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯ll need to get to the door into the cultist¡¯s area as quickly as possible. We¡¯ll make two doors, one here.¡± I gestured to the wall over the hole. ¡°And the other down at the other end.¡±


    Ginny moved a few meters over. ¡°More like here. And the same from the other end. See this row of scorch marks running up and down? That¡¯s the cell wall. And you want a path that is straight through. The corner cells have smaller doors into the corridor.¡±


    ¡°That should work. If the evacuation goes too slow, you can open a third hole. Anyone else have any ideas or concerns?¡± I asked. When no one had any, I continued, ¡°Corie, I need another of those Pigeons, and the cutting stuff.¡±


    "Purchased: Centofir Signals Drone, the ¡°Carrier Pigeon¡±


    Cost: 20 Remaining points: 440


    "Purchased: Kniesen Wallcutter with 10 triggers


    Cost: 10 Remaining points: 430¡±


    Corie sent the purchase info to text in my glasses. Another bulbous drone appeared beside a squeeze gun commonly used for caulking. Attached to the long barrel of the squeeze gun were several nails with a foil flag on one end.


    ¡°Squirt the goop where you want to cut, then insert a nail. Leave the flag out. When the time is ready, you can set off one or more rings of the goop.¡±


    --Jonnie sent a text message asking if you had figured out a way to get the prisoners out. I¡¯m gonna send a reply that we¡¯re about to make our attempt.


    <Good idea.>


    We laid out the goop for the openings. ¡°I want Ginny to concentrate on the prisoners unless I call you. Kaitlyn, with your heavier rifle, I want you to come through with me. Most likely, you¡¯ll be helping prisoners too, but if a firefight breaks out, I want you to help with that while Ginny herds people for as long as possible. Keep in contact through the phone conference. Here¡¯s the wallcutter in case you need to make more openings.¡± I looked at them and saw concern on their faces, mirrored by Tara, who was peeking around the security doorway. ¡°We¡¯ve fought and killed Anti¡¯s by the dozens; a few cultists shouldn¡¯t be a problem. We¡¯ve got this.¡±

 Arc 1, Chapter 15 -- Dont try this at home

    We, the United Lumberjacks for Eco Preservation, protest against the recent actions of the Greensoil Action Party.


    Yes, the oil drilling was an atrocity against man and nature and only added to pollution and climate change. And TethysCon has escaped the consequences of its actions for too long. And sure, the facilities at Loes Creek were terribly maintained and leaking pollutants straight into the river. It clearly had to go.


    However, destroying the only bridge over the creek is beyond the pale. Any effort to clean up the site will require the removal of the heavy equipment, which is now impossible. Furthermore, the heavy machinery will be leaking fuel, oil, and hydraulic fluid for decades, further impeding regrowth and eco-recovery.


    Next time, if you don¡¯t want the scrap value of the machinery for yourselves, call us, and we¡¯ll confiscate the equipment for you.


    -- Posted on many forums regarding climate change.


    ***


    When I triggered the cutting goop, I was expecting a slow, silent melting of the metal. Instead, I got a loud, sputtering hiss as the stuff heated up and shot off little metal bits. Within a second, the metal was cut through and fell, fortunately, towards me. I caught the plate, finding the edges rough and hot but not sharp. I lowered the freed plate and rested it against the wall beside the newly opened door. Beyond, a couple middle-aged people stared at me from the filthy bedding they sat on.


    As I lifted a finger to my lips, I saw them take on the glazed-eyed look of a person getting a message from their augs.


    Attention, prisoners of the Cult of the Ever Seven! The Vanguard Xenovir is here to free you. Please stay quiet and calm, and we will see you out soon.


    With no cell door, I was free to move beyond it to the corridor. I poked my head out and looked to the right, and I instantly realized we had overlooked one thing. The rooms on the corridor ahead of me leaked dim light from the windows into the cafeteria, but the other direction was pitch black.


    <Chem lights, strong ones, with a sticky part. Box of six.>


    I sent the order directly to Corie as I settled on one knee in the doorway. A samurai box appeared beside me. One-handed, I fumbled with the box until I felt Kaitlyn pulling the latches and opening it up. She put a squishy ball in my hand.


    ¡°Squeeze the balls to light¡¯em up. The surface becomes sticky on impact.¡± Corie informed us all via the phone conference.


    A quick squeeze and a toss had the ball stuck to the wall like a pile of mashed potatoes. It started to glow, and soon a dim light covered half the hallway. ¡°How long do they last?¡± I asked. At the same time, I added a couple notes to my upgrade list: Night Vision. Thermal Sight.


    ¡°Six hours. I could set them to be longer, but they wouldn¡¯t put out as much light.¡±


    Kaitlyn leaned over me and tossed another at the ceiling on the long side of the prison. After she pulled back, I stood up and moved into the hallway, rifle at the ready. For some reason, the light seemed to awaken the people, and they started to poke their heads into the cramped corridor.


    I selected one at random by pointing at them. ¡°Is there a prison patrol going on right now?¡± By chance, I had picked a younger person, or maybe they were shorter than average. Between the loose clothing and the dirty face, I had no guess about their gender. They shook their head. ¡°I¡¯m going to stand guard here. This nice lady behind me is Kaitlyn. She and her friend Ginny, who is making another exit, are going to get you to a safe spot. Stay calm and follow their directions. There¡¯s only the four of us, so anyone able-bodied will need to help the others get about.¡±


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    I moved up toward the doors into the cultist¡¯s main base. The person I singled out moved up with me.


    ¡°Are you the Samurai?¡± they asked.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m Xenovir.¡± It was easier to use the name than explain why I didn¡¯t have one yet. ¡°We should have you all out soon.¡± I jerked my head behind me in dismissal and crouched in another doorway near the entry. The doors looked to be a pair of swinging plates, as if someone had stolen the doors off a shipping container or two. Light leaked around the doors and frame. I did not see an opening mechanism.


    Behind me, I heard Kaitlyn giving directions and the shuffling of several people. In the distance, Tara¡¯s voice echoed with instructions to move into the side rooms.


    <Do I have a fiberoptic type probe option?>


    --There are several. Do you want something to see through that door?


    <Yes. Something inexpensive.>


    --There¡¯s a probe sensor on the SuperEye Improved Optics Drone. That would fit through most gaps and keep you back where you can react if they come through. Oh, it also has infrared sensitivity. 20 points.


    <Do it.>


    "Purchased: SuperEye Improved Optics Drone


    Cost: 20 Remaining points: 410¡±


    A long-legged, spider-like drone with an extended body appeared. I linked to it via my augs, and it moved up to the door under Corie¡¯s control. The drone found a crack at the foot of the door and extended a cable through the space. In the video, I could see a brightly lit room formerly dressed in corporate chic. From the tables stacked high in the farthest corner and the waist-high cabinets, I guessed this had been an extension of the cafeteria. Green and black sigils scrawled across the walls with the occasional stick-figured antithesis. Between the sigils, thick black curtains draped over the walls. I supposed they might be called banners since an odd sun-like symbol appeared on most of them. The design was misshapen on most of the banners and completely unrecognizable on others.


    ¡°We have a problem,¡± Tara said. ¡°I¡¯ve been counting people as they pass by. We¡¯re twelve people short¡ªthe girl with the broken leg is missing.¡±


    In the far right corner, a short platform had been built, filling a quarter of the room.


    On the raised area, a number of people huddled, flinching away from others pointing rifles at them. From the low angle, it was hard to recognize or count people, but sticking out of the huddle at an awkward angle was a small leg in a brace.


    ¡°I see her. Tara or Ginny, go to the windows and check on the dangling people. Are any of them moving?¡± The cultists all wore green in some form or another. Many only had an armband, while others had a full shirt. One was positively drenched in it, down to the poorly dyed digicam cargo pants. Only a couple had the bulky, flat torso that indicated body armor. They carried long hunting rifles and a few pistols, which would be intimidating to civilians. But I knew they were definitely the wrong tool for what was coming their way. ¡°Corie, I need a breaching charge.¡±


    ¡°Purchased: Class 1 Breaching Charge


    Cost: 5 Remaining points: 405¡±


    A conical device dropped into my hand. It had directions painted on it, and I quickly set the charge in the center of the door. An electronic trigger linked with my hind-brain to show in the glasses¡¯ UI once it was armed and ready.


    ¡°None of the ones I can see are moving.¡± Ginny¡¯s voice sounded choked, and I could easily envision her disgusted expression. ¡°But the Anti¡¯s are doing something. They seem to be moving toward the same wall as the balcony. And more are coming in the door. There¡¯s a lot of bigger ones too.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. Please double check the rooms, starting with those closest to me. Kaitlyn, please help her, then come cover me. I¡¯ve found the missing people, or most of them. Including the girl. They are with the cultists and seem to be fine for now. I¡¯ll be breaching the door in 1 minute.¡±


    While waiting for the ladies to do a last check, I panned the probe left and right, memorizing the layout of the cultists and getting a good count. Most of them had their attention directed to the left, where a pile of cloth blocked my view. I counted fifteen of the cultists, but there were certainly more to the left.


    <When I go in, can you do the vanguard message thing asking for surrender? It might make them hesitate. But keep it out of my glasses, please. I¡¯ll be busy.>


    --Sure can do.


    I slung the Tribulator over my shoulder while taking one last look at the drone¡¯s camera feed. Seeing no change, I drew both pistols, took a deep breath, and turned to Kaitlyn. ¡°As an instructor, I¡¯m obligated to tell you: don¡¯t try this at home.¡± The explosives on the door burst through the blocking bar, blowing the two panels outward. On the heels of the explosion, I strode into the room, arms spread apart, each seeking a cultist with deadly intent.

 Arc 1, Chapter 16 -- Negotiations, Samurai style.

    I¡¯ve seen the blessed walking in holy unison as they return to the hive¡¯s bosom. Their faces freed of the cares we face today, no worry over their next meal. No anger from the latest e-FUD. Just a simple certainty in where they stand in the world and a return to the simple purpose we used to have before technology and science and media. Let us prepare the way, draw the new masters to bless us with their holy blessing, and make us part of the Ever Seven.


    --Darren Kittritch, founder of the Church of the Ever Seven


    ***


    Back at the turn of the century, any serious pistol shooter would tell you that two-gun mojo is a myth. It¡¯s a fantasy created by the entertainment industry because shooting two pistols at the same time is a cool look. For most of human history, that was true. The human brain could not truly think fast enough to accurately aim at two separate places at the same time. Then came the Samurai. With non-human senses, cyber integrated aiming systems, and enhanced reaction speeds, it was possible for a Samurai to pull it off. A couple even specialized in it.


    For the average, unenhanced, Mark One human, however, shooting with two weapons at the same time only slowed you down and turned you into a hazard to any allies. But it still looked cool, and I couldn¡¯t resist the call to dabble in it. Being born fully ambidextrous helped a lot. In private, I had practiced two-gun enough that, on a lucky day, I could pull it off enough to impress the customers. They loved it at the after-class parties. With fifteen to one odds and the prisoners in the middle of it all, I needed some awe to go with the shock of my entrance.


    My hind-brain took over much of the precision guidance for aiming, making dual wielding much easier. Before I had taken two steps, each of my .45 automatics had fired, dropping the cultists closest to the door on each side.


    Time seemed compressed. I wasn¡¯t moving faster, but my thoughts ran in overdrive, aware of every detail. I turned, found new targets, aimed, and fired again. Blood and brains splattered the huddle of prisoners as two of their guards fell. Another step, another turn, re-aim and fire one-handed, another falling guard.


    A cultist to my left had overcome his surprise and started to lift his rifle. I double-tapped him in the chest, toppling him. My head spun, and I found another prisoner guard in my sights. I rushed my shot and hit him in the neck. Arterial blood sprayed on the ceiling as he fell.


    In the corner of my eye, motion drew my eye. One of the women had drawn a knife and charged me, her face filled with rage. I fired again, decorating her forehead with a red spot, and she dropped in a heap halfway to me.


    I was nearly to the far wall now and spun to put my back to it, then froze with my arms spread wide.


    To my right, the cult leader had stepped in from the balcony, his face a mix of rage and madness. To the left, the last cultist near the prisoners had grabbed a woman and held her between us. His rifle dangled from the strap, and he had a large knife at her throat. In the corner of my glasses, I saw the probe¡¯s camera skittering over toward me.


    ¡°What the fuck are you doing? We¡¯re just about to reach apophasis, and you come in here and try to stop us?¡± I heard a yell to my right. Shifting my eyes only, I looked to find the cult leader, robes still flowing to the floor, staring at me. Despite having my pistol aimed right at him, he continued to blather on. ¡°This is a sacred space at a holy time. What greater blasphemy are you willing to commit and prevent us from our righteous¡­¡± I tuned him out as he droned on. If he wanted to monologue, I was happy to make use of the time, so I shifted my eyes back to the hostage taker.


    I loved the fact that the mirrored visor hid where I was looking, as long as I didn¡¯t turn my head. The hostage taker was a tall man, almost two meters tall, with heavy muscles. The hand holding the knife was rock steady, chrome wrapped around a black plastic hilt.


    <Can I hack his augments and disable the arm?>


    --You have the links and tools, but not the skills yet. I¡¯ll do it, and we can train on that at a later time.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    In the corner of my eye, my Upgrade Items list showed, and a number ¡°2¡± appeared next to the Cyber Warfare line before instantly minimizing itself.


    --I¡¯m in his system now, shutting down the arm in 3¡­2¡­1¡±


    As Corie¡¯s countdown reached one, I pulled the trigger, hitting him in the eye. The woman screamed, even as the blow jerked the man away and caused him to fall backwards. I turned to the cult leader to find that he was pointing at me, trembling with his impotent rage. ¡°Kill him!¡± he yelled.


    I responded by putting a round in his face and another in his chest. He stumbled back onto the balcony, tipped over the railing, and fell over the side. He screamed through the fall until the Anti¡¯s below shut him up with a sickening, squishing sound. ¡°Cut the cancer to save the body,¡± I muttered to myself before I turned to the other cultists. None of them had moved yet, maybe in shock at the loss of their leader.


    ¡°The antithesis don¡¯t care about you or even realize you are anything but food. They will consume you, and if you are lucky, you will be fully dead when it happens. There¡¯s no blissful becoming one with them, not anymore than the lettuce in your salad is blissful as it is torn apart by your teeth. I¡¯m not going to let you feed these people to the aliens. You can try to force your delusion on us, but I guarantee that most of you won¡¯t live to complete it. I¡¯ll give you a few seconds to think over your options, but stopping the prisoners and me from leaving is not one of them.¡±


    As I spoke, I reloaded my pistols and moved to stand between the cultists and the prisoners. I nearly jumped when I felt a light tugging on my pants. The spider¡¯s camera showed that it was climbing up my body to end up perched on my helmet. The camera steadied into a rear-facing view.


    As if we¡¯d been watching a movie feed, the Anti¡¯s enforced my timeline by breaking into the room. Behind one of the curtains, a door burst open, meters away from me. A mass of Threes burst into the room and charged me and the cultists. Behind me, one of the hostages screamed, triggering others to join him. The sound attracted the Anti¡¯s attention as I rapidly fired into the mass. Two fell even as they came within arm¡¯s reach. One pistol clicked empty, then the other, and I dropped them while calling to Corie:


    <Knives, long and sharp. Two of them. Unsheathed.>


    I caught the twin blades and swung wildly. In the back of my mind, a clinical part of me questioned the wisdom of asking for two when I could barely use one effectively. Another part screamed at me furiously for not getting more pistols. I shoved those thoughts aside and dodged a lunging Three. There was enough lead flying already from a few cultists, showing the shallowness of their faith. I didn¡¯t want to risk hurting a hostage myself with a bad shot. Even I missed sometimes. The dodge turned into a spin as I caught an alien behind me in the throat. A tug on my shoulder pulled me back and down, only to release with a jerk. I used the tug to reverse my motion and swing at an M-3. My hand was poorly angled, and the flat of the blade smacked into its neck.


    ¡°Get into the prison area! Quickly!¡± By camera, I watched Kaitlyn run in behind me and lift the injured girl one handed. In the other hand, she still held her rifle.


    I dodged in and around the Anti''s without a plan beyond trying to keep them distracted long enough to get the prisoner¡¯s out. Beyond the monsters, I saw a couple glimpses of the cultists fall under the tide. The man doused in green had an ecstatic look on his face as an M-3 tore out his throat.


    An M-4 joined my melee, its long tentacles whipping over the M-3s that surrounded me. One tentacle wrapped around my leg and started to pull me over. I sliced it, the blade twisting in my grasp to fillet it as much as chop off the boneless limb. As I fought, I had to admit that the only reason I had survived so long was due to the sharpness of the knives. A Three used its companion as a step to make a flying tackle, forcing me to dodge to the right. As it flew past, I slipped, leaving me open to another coming in from the left.


    Three shots cut through the room in the familiar crack of an AK-47. Kaitlyn¡¯s shots hammered into the M-3 lunging from my left, sending its lifeless body to my feet. ¡°Everyone¡¯s out. Get your but over here, Marcus.¡± Kaitlyn yelled over a battle field that had grown eerily quiet. The gunfire from the cultists had fallen off as the members died. The yelling from the hostages faded with their exit, leaving the always silent Anti¡¯s, me with my knives, and Kaitlyn the only people left in the room. In the camera, I could see her standing in the doorway, rifle raised.


    I concentrated on pulling back and dodging, trying to keep to the right, out of her field of fire but still towards the prison door. I was starting to get tired, and I stumbled again, clipping the corner of the stage with my foot.


    Brrrrt. Automatic fire from the doorway ripped through the pair of M-3s that lunged to catch me while unsteady. I recognized the lighter rounds of the P5-AT and saw a spray of wounds flicker over the Anti¡¯s filling the room. Ginny had joined Kaitlyn, and the two sprayed the room with bursts of fully automatic fire, some rounds getting dangerously close to me. The two beat back the tide for a second, letting me reach the doorway and get my back to the wall.


    I dropped the knives and grasped for my rifle, only to catch air instead. Somewhere in the melee, the Tribulator had vanished.

 Arc 1, Chapter 17 -- Withdrawal

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    * Neither Threat Dynamics nor Mestle Arms and Childcare are liable for injuries or deaths resulting from children handling firearms.


    --Advertisement for Threat Dynamics.


    For sale: Matched pair of .45 caliber pistols. Grips slightly worn. Barrels checked for true and rifling undamaged. Chambers show little wear. Slight stain on one grip from antithesis blood. See Trog - N - Dog¡¯s discount shack.


    --Local want ads.


    ***


    <New rifle, fast rate of fire, something that can beat back the horde.>


    --Roomsweeper with directable rounds. Safety is off. Set to 3-round burst.


    A new rifle dropped into my hands. I raised the weapon and sighted through the targeting reticle. Lines appeared on my glasses, sweeping out towards where I had aimed. The weapon barked, and the rounds flew out, following the displayed lines. They passed through the M-3 I had fired at and continued on into the throng behind it.


    ¡°What the hell?¡± I was expecting a submachine gun, not strange lines in my glasses.


    --It fires high-velocity guidable flechettes. You should be able to put each round through multiple targets with each trigger pull. The flechettes won¡¯t penetrate armor, so you¡¯ll need to aim around the hard points.


    I shot again, and the flechettes whistled as they flew into the antithesis. This time I saw how I could change the trajectories in flight, allowing angles that normally would be impossible. I started to angle my rounds to hit multiple Anti¡¯s before losing power. An ammo counter appeared in my heads-up display; I was down to half a magazine already.


    A couple more bursts drove the Anti¡¯s back, and I felt I was getting the hang of the weapon. The waves paused while a tank-like M-6 was temporarily stuck in the door. That gave me a second to change out the ammo, and I asked for an extended mag. It came in the form of a hundred-round drum. It felt like it took forever to swap over to the new mag as the M-6 beat at the doorframe and forced a way through.


    Back in action, the guidance on the flechettes proved critical against the heavier-armored Six. I had to find the light rounds couldn¡¯t penetrate their armor, forcing me to aim for gaps or go for eye-shots to take out the brainpan.


    We continued to sweep the room as more waves entered. The M-6¡¯s would get stuck in the doorway for a short time before powering through. Each time they broke free, the opening grew a little bigger.


    When the first M-5c appeared, I focused on it, arcing rounds over the sea of bodies and catching the alien in the head. It died before any spikes could get free to throw at us. Eventually, the bodies in the room started to stack up and interfere with the sight lines. We couldn¡¯t stay here forever.


    ¡°Ginny, fall back and make sure we¡¯re ready to leave. Kaitlyn, switch sides so I can get in the doorway.¡± I was still standing out in the open with my back to the wall. Ginny¡¯s lighter rounds stopped, and I started shifting, even as Kaitlyn¡¯s fire paused.


    I asked for more ammo from Corie when I ran out. As I switched, Kaitlyn ran out of ammo. I fumbled through a hot swap as the Anti¡¯s flowed in. At the last moment, the cartridge fell in, and I fired full auto from the hip. ¡°Oh, this is just... cheating,¡± I said. In my glasses, I still had the same aiming reticle with the aim point automatically adjusted for the lower barrel height. With the guidable ammo, I could spray from the hip and still land rounds with high accuracy. I felt dirty, but I kept up the fire as I mowed the Anti¡¯s down.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Eventually, the horde started to falter, with fewer Anti¡¯s entering the room. As I dropped a final M-5c in the doorway, one of the Chibat drones passed by towards where the monsters had been coming from.


    ¡°We need to leave.¡± Tara startled me. I had forgotten she was on the conference call. ¡°Another wave is coming. More of them. More of the bigger ones, the shell beasts and thags.¡± Despite the alarming news, Tara spoke in even tones without a hint of stress.


    I called up the feed and saw a large kitchen filled with Anti¡¯s. From the angle, I could easily count a dozen M-6s and nearly as many M-5cs. As they streamed by the camera, more entered from the door on the other side.


    ¡°Falling back now. Corie, an enzyme fogger, please.¡± I hoped that the fogger would repel the Anti¡¯s and give us some time to leave.


    "Purchased: Kniesen Enzymatic Corpse Reduction


    Cost: 20 Remaining points: 1,474¡±


    The bodies had stacked high enough to slow down even the agile M-3s. But while it was a huge amount of points, compared to those same piles of bodies, it also felt small. ¡°That was a lot of Anti''s,¡± I said.


    The fogger was released, and I backed up into the prison and through the nearest hole. As soon as I was past the metal wall, Ginny was putting the cut plate back over the opening. Tara darted in and squirted sealer around the plate, locking it into place. Glancing at the other end of the room, I saw that the opening had been similarly closed, along with the original hole the three used to escape.


    Kaitlyn was still facing me with one of her eyes backlit, a sign that she was recording on her augs. ¡°Were you recording the whole fight?¡± She nodded in the slow way that one does while still recording. ¡°Please don¡¯t post that, but I do want a copy to study.¡±


    ¡°I can try, but it was live streamed, and I can¡¯t promise it wasn¡¯t downloaded... oops! AirGirlGoBoom says she has it all and is cackling her head off. I think she likes you.¡± Kaitlyn winked with her non-augmented eye.


    I rolled my eyes and turned to the handful of people who were still in the room, some with scraps of green still on their clothing. ¡°What are these people still doing here? I thought we had everyone in the safe space?¡± I asked Ginny.


    Tara was standing in the middle of the security door. She glared at the people between us, arms crossed. ¡°They are cultists. We shouldn¡¯t help them.¡±


    I could sympathize with her feelings, but I also wasn¡¯t comfortable with rejecting the cultists, who literally had nowhere else to go right now. These were the same people who had kidnapped her, held her for who knows how long, and threatened to feed her to the antithesis. I¡¯d find it hard to forgive in that situation, too. However, it was the nature of cults to trap people, and I had actually hoped that more would take the chance to escape. I was at a loss for how to convince Tara to give them a chance. I realized that to get here, the cultists had to have made it past Ginny and Kaitlyn.


    I looked at Ginny, tossing the ball into her court. She pointed to a woman with long, frizzy hair in a homespun skirt. ¡°Tara, do you remember when we were working on the hole and I gave you that nutri bar? You had worked through the meal and didn¡¯t get any. That woman noticed that you weren¡¯t there. She slipped the bar to me when no one was looking.¡±


    ¡°And that dark-haired woman gave me a note right before we left. It was asking for help.¡± Kaitlyn added. She dug in her pocket and showed the slip of paper to Tara.


    ¡°Please,¡± another raven-haired woman said. ¡°My husband and I. We were on the street¡ªno place to go. Our RIS IDs were lost. The weather was turning bad, and we needed shelter. No one would take me in on account of the baby. They didn¡¯t want the insurance risk.¡± She laid her hand on her belly, then twined her other hand with one of the men. ¡°When the cult found us, we didn¡¯t know what they were talking about, and frankly, for a warm shelter, we¡¯d do anything. Once we got here and found out, there was no way out. They don¡¯t let people go. Half of those bodies out there,¡± she gestured towards the window at the end of the room, ¡°were former cult members."


    I looked Tara in the eyes. As hard as it sounded, Tara was more important to me than all the cultists¡ªGinny and Kaitlyn too. Beyond the work she was doing with the drones, the four of us had been through a lot, and I¡¯d come to care for them. I was determined to keep them safe at all costs. She looked back at me with uncertainty in her eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯m not saying they get a free pass, but we can¡¯t leave them. They are victims here, as much as you were. The least we can do is give them a second chance.¡± She gave a slight nod and backed out of the doorway.


    I subvocalized in the conference call, ¡°Thank you. Feel free to use the drones to keep an eye on them. In fact, please do.¡±


    I turned to the group. ¡°Let me be clear: you are on probation. You already had one strike, and you don¡¯t get another. Please hand over any weapons to Ginny and help out where you can. We¡¯ll see about any more help when we¡¯re all out of here.¡± Behind me, I heard claws scratching at the plate we¡¯d glued over the prison¡¯s back door.

 Arc 1, Chapter 18 -- Wrangling and details

    Chris Locke wants you! Tired of not having enough food on the table? Tired of seeing too many people unable to make ends meet?


    It¡¯s hard to know how to balance where to spend your Representation, Influence, and Stipend points. You only get so much RIS per quarter. Do you put it into Representation to get directives passed that help you? Or do you spend it on Stipend so you have a place to stay? And how much do you keep handy for Influence in case of a tax hike or you get a ticket? And those choices aren¡¯t any easier when you are living on the basic points.


    That¡¯s why you should drop some RIS on Directive 6783. Sponsored by Chris Locke, the Directive to the National Council will increase the annual allotment of RIS that all citizens get. That will make it easier to use your points without putting yourself at risk.


    --Cascadia Campaign add, 2047


    ***


    The cultists quickly filed through the door one by one. Two of them handed Ginny weapons: a rifle, a pistol, and a knife. Seeing the knife reminded me that I hadn¡¯t had a chance to pick up the knives I had been fighting with. I looked back at the sealed hole, troubled. Samurai had a reputation for abandoning gear all the time without care. Considering the number of points I had gained in the battle, I could understand that habit, but it still bothered me to litter that way. ¡°Those were really nice blades,¡± I muttered to myself as I passed through the security door and waved at it for Tara to lock it up.


    --There¡¯s more where those came from, and even better. Although if you want to melee, you should take some lessons. Flailing about blindly like that isn¡¯t the safest way to fight.


    I decided to ignore my AI for a minute, beyond starting a new list Equipment: Melee (knives? swords? ), pistols. Then added to the Upgrade Ideas list: Melee Training.


    I found Ginny talking with a couple people further down the hallway. ¡°How are the people doing? Are they ready for a hike?¡±


    ¡°We have several that need some help: walkers, bandages, and the like. But none of them are as bad off as you,¡± she said, looking down at my body. Like a switch, the adrenaline wore off, and the pain rushed in all over my body. I looked down and saw that my shirt and pants were nearly black from all the shallow cuts I¡¯d overlooked during the rush of battle.


    I pulled open one of the slits in my pants to see the wound underneath. A thin red line showed, growing shorter as I watched.


    --The nanites from the regen suite you took are still active and working. They should be good for these small wounds. They¡¯ve already closed up the bleeding and will have the deeper tissues fixed after a short rest. But your clothes are a mess. I¡¯m not sure I¡¯d trust a Vanguard that looked as messy as you.


    ¡°I¡¯m good. It¡¯s healing fast.¡± I reassured Ginny. ¡°While I¡¯m thinking of it, let¡¯s get that girl¡¯s leg healed at the least. Corie, how many bandages do we need?¡± It ended up taking a good twenty minutes before we had the people¡¯s medical needs covered and some Class 0 nutrient bars passed out.


    We kept a person posted at the door closest to the former prison, but none of the aliens had broken through the prison walls. Tara reported that she¡¯d bounced the signal from the drone left behind around the dead space. It showed that while the M-3 and M-4 could reach the blocked holes, they were still holding. None of the stronger M-6s could reach them due to the cell walls and narrow hallways.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    While we rested and ate, I was finally able to catch up with Ginny. ¡°We have a total of one hundred twenty people to rescue. Ten of them will need help traveling since they are effectively immobile. We also have twelve children to watch and one pregnant lady¡ªthat cultist. Of the able-bodied, five are former cultists, and another five have some firearm training. I don¡¯t promise how good of a shot they are.¡±


    ¡°How pregnant?¡± I asked. The last thing we needed was for her to pop while we had to run.


    ¡°Only five months along. Not enough to worry about her going into labor, but it will slow her down.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°So what you are saying is that we won¡¯t be moving fast.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m saying we might get up to a slow pace.¡±


    ¡°Put them in wheelchairs,¡± suggested Kaitlyn. ¡°And have the people in the chairs hold onto some of the littles.¡±


    --A class-zero wheelchair will cost 3 points due to its size. I can make them extra-sized to hold two additional children for another point. But that will make them heavy enough to need more people to push.


    ¡°I¡¯ll buy some basic wheelchairs, but not the extra size. That won¡¯t speed us up. There are those boxes to get past. I know there is dignity in being able to move yourself, but even the more mobile elderly will be in a chair. I¡¯d rather they be indignant and alive than plant food. If they can¡¯t keep up with a normal walking pace, they get a ride.


    ¡°We need to move fast, or the Anti¡¯s will catch up. That wall and door won¡¯t hold forever. Were there any more weapons in the security station?¡±


    ¡°No, we grabbed them all. Unless there was a hidden locker.¡± Kaitlyn said.


    ¡°That¡¯s not worth the time to search for it. I¡¯ll buy new rifles for you two, and you can give the AK-47 and P5-AT to ex-prisoners. With that and the weapons from the cultists, they will have three rifles and a pistol. And I¡¯ll get a couple extra mags for the new stuff. It¡¯s not good, but enough to hold off a couple Threes until help can arrive.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have them keep an eye out for more to scrounge up as we go.¡± Ginny said.


    ¡°As long as it doesn¡¯t slow us down, I¡¯m ok with that. I doubt they¡¯ll find any, but it might not hurt to look. Our first concern is speed. Anything else?¡±


    ¡°Drones. We don¡¯t have any that are fast enough left. Also, Feed One has had a couple doggies pass by. We should hurry.¡± Tara had been monitoring the drone we left beyond the machine room.


    ¡°I¡¯ll get six of the Chibats. Send two forward and keep at least one behind, but also keep a couple in the middle of the group. I need to know as soon as there is anything suspicious. Let¡¯s get busy. I want to be moving again in 5 minutes.¡±


    With that, we broke up the meeting and started wrangling evacuees. When everyone was ready, we added four former prisoners to the conference call to help wrangle people. I addressed the leadership team, ¡°Our goal now is to get out. No more side trips, no trying to stop the Anti¡¯s from escaping. We just leave.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be at the lead until we get to the machine room. I want Kaitlyn and Ginny with me for that. Kang,¡± I said to the one in charge of the armed ex-prisoners. ¡°Your people will be at the other end of the line from me. Depending on what we find in the machine room, we¡¯ll rearrange the order there.¡±


    I muted my mic and spoke louder so the whole group could hear me.


    ¡°We¡¯re ready to move out. I know you all have had a hard time, and I admire your strength in making it this far. We only have a kilometer and maybe a bit more, and you¡¯ll be out of this hell and back to your life. That said, I won¡¯t lie. This will be dangerous. I¡¯ll be protecting you, but I can only do that if you all stay together. If someone goes off chasing a wild hare, I¡¯m sorry, but if you do that, you will be on your own. My duty is to protect as many of you as I can, not any one individual. So please, stay together and help each other. Let one of the leaders know if there is a problem, but to be honest, unless it¡¯s life-threatening, you might have to suck it up. Now, enough of the speeches. Let¡¯s get moving.¡±


    I turned to the door to open it. And it did not move. I unmuted my mic for the conference. ¡°Uh, Tara, can you, um, unlock the door?¡± The people behind me laughed. After a second, the door clicked, and I opened it. Ginny had found a vaguely wedged-shaped thing in the security office and jammed the door open.

 Arc 1, Chapter 19 -- Replacements

    Samurai get put up on these pedestals, and people think that because we have cosmic spanning power, we¡¯re perfect. We¡¯re not. The truth is that most Samurai were not ready for the job, and we make mistakes. We all do. Roadrash did it several times, and it cost him his feet. Golden Guy did it and lost a city. Sprocket Rocket paid for his mistake with his life.


    There¡¯s no training camp where we learn what works and what doesn¡¯t. In the heat of the moment, a decision has to be made, and sometimes we get it wrong. Hopefully we survive doing the stupid and can not do that again. Sometimes we don¡¯t.


    --T4 (Tiny Tough Terror of Titans), in a speech at a con shortly after the death of the Vanguard Spur. 2045


    ***


    The walk back from the secure area to the machine room was as boring as it had been going the other way. The doors we had blocked coming in were still sealed, and none of the Anti¡¯s had found the hallway yet. We had one small hiccup when we realized that Tara would have to be led by someone. To control so many drones, she had to dive into their control systems, a fully immersive experience that blocked off her sight. Two of Tara¡¯s drones flew ahead while the SuperEye spider continued to cling to my helmet. I figured that it reassured her to know where I was.


    When the scout drones reached the machine room, I paused to maximize the camera view. The white clouds of flesh-dissolving gas were gone, along with the piles of Anti¡¯s corpses. What remained was a gooey mess of putrid fluid with the consistency of curdled milk, which stuck to the ankles of the M-3s sniffing and thrashing at the spiked barricades I had put up.


    At the console, several enterprising M-4s searched the area. Their many small tentacles caressed each surface, lingering on the ones where we had spent the most time¡ªwhere we had braced to fire on their brethren. Where the door behind our hold-out had been closed up, two more M-4 poked at the gaps. Their sharp-ended tentacles bit into the sealing that held the barrier in place, and bits of it broke away. Occasionally, the whole barrier would shudder when something large and heavy beat on it from the other side.


    My first thought was to try to sneak past. It only took a couple seconds of listening to realize that was not going to work. As we¡¯d asked, the ex-prisoners didn¡¯t talk, but they still made a lot of noise. They sniffed, tapped feet against the walls, scraped clothing, and someone had even found some chewing gum. The sound of open-mouthed chewing sent a shiver of disgust down my spine. And there was probably some way the aliens could detect us, even if we were quiet.


    ¡°Tara, can you show me the inside of the door we used? I want to see what¡¯s above it.¡± The camera shifted dizzyingly for a few minutes before settling and doing a slow pan of the wall. The walkway stood, as did the barrier at the top of the stairs. Above the door was a mass of tentacled M-4s, their bodies packed in tight enough that I couldn''t get an exact count. If I had to guess, because I did, there might be 15 or twenty of them waiting to drop on anyone coming through.


    My mind raced, trying to find a clever way to get around the ambush without bringing it down literally on top of myself. I could make a different door, and that would get me in, but would only open up the way for a greater flood, removing one of the choke points I¡¯d need once the ex-prisoners were past.


    The guided rounds from the Roomsweeper, I¡¯d found, could only turn so far. Anything beyond a narrow cone would take more distance than I had here. They¡¯d never be able to make the right angle turn to hit the ambushers.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I subvocalized to the conference, ¡°Kang, I¡¯ll need you and all your fighters at the front. Your team, Kaitlyn, and Ginny will have to protect the people while I clear out the machine room.¡±


    ¡°Okay, moving up.¡± Kang simply replied.


    ¡°What? No, that¡¯s not okay.¡± Ginny glared at me.


    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. There¡¯s only a dozen or so.¡± I lied to them. I wasn¡¯t at all sure I would be fine. The only way I could think of to get an angle on the M-4 above the door was to go through it. That put me dangerously close to the Anti¡¯s. A rifle was not going to be fast enough, even the Roomsweeper. With two pistols, I could fire faster in multiple directions. I felt confident that I would be able to clear the way, at least. ¡°Corie, it¡¯s time to spend some of those points. I need replacement pistols and some melee weapons, just in case.¡± I said that in the conference, as much to reassure Ginny as to inform my AI.


    --For the pistols, did you want to upgrade them? There are some energy pistols I think you¡¯d love.


    <I don¡¯t like changing up systems mid-stream. For the record, that goes for anything short of life-or-death emergencies. Trying new things out while in battle, or right before one, is a way to end up dead before you can learn how the new shit works.>


    --The point cost is the same. Your current catalog only covers long rifles. For pistols, you¡¯d have to get another catalog either way, but the energy weapons catalog is more flexible. The laser pistols act the same as your old ones. Even down to the swappable battery being good for nine shots. The only difference in use is that there¡¯s no drop or kickback. And each laser shot does more damage. The drop doesn¡¯t matter much at pistol range. The fire rate comes out the same when you include the time to recover from kickback.


    I could tell from her tone that she was excited about this. If she was right about the characteristics, then the change wouldn¡¯t be too jarring.


    <All right, we can try it, but if it gets me hurt, you and I will have words.>


    --Understood. The last thing I want to do is put my Vanguard at risk. Do you want to stay with the shoulder harness or go for a hip or thigh holster?


    <Stay with the underarm holster for now.>


    --Okay, and for the melee, did you have a preference?


    I thought about how the last melee went. Granted, it was a disaster, but considering it was only the second time I¡¯d ever fought hand to hand, I hadn¡¯t done too badly.


    <I liked the sharpness. Let¡¯s keep that. Maybe a little more length? Not a lot, but I did feel like I was stretching sometimes.>


    --Did you want to stick with a single edge? Or try a double edge?


    <Single edge. I have enough to deal with. And the dull back could be used less dangerously in a pinch.>


    --Okay, I have the perfect thing for you. Or things, it¡¯s a pair. They¡¯re a pair? Whatever. Ready for them?


    <Yes.>


    "Catalog Unlocked: Class I Energy Weapons


    Cost: 100 Remaining points: 1,112


    "Purchased: Triskin Holdout with holster


    Cost: 80 (qty: 2) Remaining points: 1,032


    "Purchased: Voratus Longknife


    Cost: 80 (qty: 2) Remaining points: 952


    A pile of nylon webbing around two holsters appeared alongside an arm-length flat box.


    <Corie?>


    --Yes? she replied sweetly.


    <What¡¯s with the box?>


    --A samurai¡¯s blades deserve respect.


    Her voice dripped with a false piety that could not hide the undercurrent of humor.

 Arc 1, Chapter 20 -- Once more, with feeling

    It isn¡¯t about killing monsters. It¡¯s about how you look doing it.


    --Jason ¡°Astral King¡± Asano


    ***


    I sighed and grabbed the brace of pistols. When I pulled one out of the holster, I found a long, boxy pistol done up in chrome. The barrel was slightly longer than I was used to, but the grip settled in my hand comfortably. Weirdly, the weight balanced slightly farther back, maybe due to the power pack? But when I aimed at random points, the UI¡¯s reticle landed where I intended. I¡¯d have to see how well they stopped aliens, but they seemed adequate. I quickly donned the harness and holstered the pistols.


    Finished with the pistols, I turned my attention to the box. Out of a sense of irony, I dropped to my knees before the box and bowed to it. I opened it up and decided the presentation was justified. This time.


    In a field of black velvet padding lay two naked silver blades¡ªtwo long fangs. Beside them lay the empty sheaths of polished ebony. A single edge swept up to a sharp point, opposite a thicker straight back, which led directly into the short vertical crossguard, also in chrome. Beyond the guard was an extended hilt wrapped with criss-crossed rope that ended in an abrupt end. The hilt reminded me of the traditional Japanese tsuka, the cross guard of a medieval European sword, and the blade echoed a turn of the last century bayonet.


    I sheathed them, and Ginny helped me fasten the pair on my back. Kaitlyn wasn¡¯t a big fan of the crossed sword look and insisted on a change. After a couple test draws, I agreed that it didn¡¯t work for my arm length. With some quick experimentation, we found that a vertical mount worked better. Kaitlyn approved the change, muttering about subverting the tropes and setting a new standard.


    Armed and ready, I saw that the other shooters had caught up, so I moved forward as quietly as I could. As the doorway came into sight, I drew both pistols and made sure I knew how to change the battery packs.


    The doorway stood to my right this time, and I pressed against that wall as I approached. The drone camera still showed the mass of aliens on the wall above the door. They hadn¡¯t moved yet. I wasn¡¯t sure if that was because they were more patient than I expected or if they hadn¡¯t heard me. I leapt into the room and started firing upwards at an angle. The barrier was at my back for the moment, while I fired at the M-4s above me.


    Real laser guns, I found out, did not crack. Nor did they pew, zip, or even squeal. They hissed. Months later, I learned that the noise was from the laser burning off the atoms in the atmosphere as they passed by. At the time, I didn¡¯t care. The lack of noise lent a very surreal feel to the battle. Hst, Hst. Hst-hst.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    After four shots with each pistol, I had to dodge back into the hallway. Six bodies fell on the catwalk, two right where I¡¯d been standing. One hit the railing and slumped over to fall into the machine room. The other lashed out with its tentacles, I dodged most of them, but one of the spikes clipped my visor.


    I countered with a laser to the mass of tentacles it used as a face. It slumped to the ground, only to be replaced by another. More dropped into the doorway, forcing me back to avoid the whipping tentacles. I felt a tingle in my palms, and in my glasses, a notice started blinking. I was nearly out of charge for both weapons. I fired the left hand pistol one last time, then threw it at one of the M-4s.


    Corie was already dropping a battery into my hand, and I hot-swapped cartridges before drawing my left-hand blade. The tentacles swarmed around me now. I dodged, bowing under one sweeping limb to block another with the blade. The M-4 drew back a stump. A Four had moved around to my right, where nothing stood between it and the evacuees. I unleashed on it, using the last 3 shots to drop the M-4, but another¡¯s long tentacle whipped the spiked end into my thigh. I cut off the tentacle as I drew my other sword.


    ¡°Six left. But the ones from the console are joining soon. Pull back, and we¡¯ll help. You need healing.¡± Tara said in the conference call. I had no idea how she had counted the beasts in the close quarters.


    I pushed against the body of one with my injured leg, ignoring the spike of pain. With a flick, my swords reached out. One passed clean through the alien¡¯s head. The other sliced off a leg and a large tentacle from another. I spun, and a wide-flung blade sliced through another body. Even deep cuts met very little resistance to the edge. In the back of my mind, I wondered how sharp these things were.


    I was feeling lightheaded, probably from too much spinning. I still managed to dodge the next tentacle, only to stagger into the body of another. I drove both swords into it to the hilts. With a savage yell, I sliced both blades clear to catch two more in their necks on each side of me. The bodies fell, the weight dragging my blades with them.


    For some reason, the light was getting dark. I couldn¡¯t see any more of the Anti¡¯s, but I did hear gunfire. I slumped to the floor, leaning to the right. I recognized the sharp brrrt of my P5-AT. From the sound of it, I realized that the chamber was getting dirty. I¡¯d have to clean it soon. It was joined by the dak dak of the AK-47. Steady as a rock. A couple more, deeper rifles filled in as I settled to my side. For some reason, I felt very tired. So very tired...


    --Marcus, you¡¯ve lost a lot of blood, and your vitals are dropping. Do you want me to get some healing supplies?


    Corie¡¯s voice sounded worried. What was she saying? Something about blood and healing. One of the ex-prisoners must have been hurt. Of course, I wanted to heal them.


    I tried to speak but lacked the strength. It was easier to think at her.


    <Yes, get the supplies.>


    --Very good. Hang on, Marcus. Ginny¡¯s here, and she¡¯ll be able to help you.


    I felt warm arms wrap around me and roll me onto my back. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought back to the battle and realized I should have used a Stegosaur below the door to keep the Anti''s from swarming me. I¡¯d have to do better next time.

 Arc 1, Chapter 21 -- No rest

    I¡¯ve been to the edge a dozen times, and only luck, allies, and preparation have brought me back. The hardest moment of being a Samurai is when you¡¯ve been just pulled back from the edge of death, and you have to get up.


    Because the work¡¯s never done, and you have to get up and fight again, or people will die. But there¡¯s always that sliver of a moment where you wish you could just rest. And let someone else take up the burden.


    --Vanguard Thandbar


    ***


    For the second time today, I awoke with a woman over me. This time, when I opened my eyes, the corridor lighting stabbed pain into them. I was lying with my head on Ginny¡¯s lap while she looked off to my left. ¡°Get the rest of the bodies out of the corridor. We¡¯ll be leaving as soon as he¡¯s on his feet. Throw them over the side.¡±


    I groaned, then stretched. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°Your thigh wound nicked an artery. The spike staying in stopped up the hole at first, but during your fight it must have slipped.¡± Tara was sitting nearby, curled up in a ball. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t let that happen. We don¡¯t want you to die.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want to die either. Once we get out of here, I¡¯ll be able to prevent that.¡± I glanced at the totals in my glasses.


    "Purchased: Class I Nano-Regenerative Suite


    Cost: 20 Remaining points: 1,262


    "Purchased: Hemo-Restore


    Cost: 10 (qty:2) Remaining points: 1,252¡±


    ¡°Assuming I can still afford it, was anyone else hurt?¡± I sat up and pulled my legs out of the way as an ex-prisoner dragged the body of an M-4 past.


    ¡°No, there were only a couple left by the time we arrived.¡± Kaitlyn was through the doorway to the machine room, rifle aimed out into the room.


    I was up and moving, but I still felt weak enough that I shouldn¡¯t be walking. Instead, I turned my attention inward.


    <Corie, I recall something about you asking me to get healing stuff while I was losing it. What was that about?>


    --I¡¯m not allowed to buy anything for you without your permission or clear intent. Even if it is to save your life.


    I thought about it for a few minutes before replying.


    <Let me know if this works. I¡¯d like to set aside an amount of points for emergency healing. We¡¯ll start with one hundred points, or one percent of my most recent max points, whichever is higher.>


    --Done. That is a policy that many Vanguards adopt, eventually. I don¡¯t know why that isn¡¯t standard practice, to be honest.


    <Some people don¡¯t think in terms of getting hurt. I haven¡¯t either, but apparently I don¡¯t have that luxury. Now for the other part. I officially and permanently authorize you to use that healing reserve for life-threatening emergencies to prevent me from dying.>


    There was a long pause from my AI, during which I added ¡°Healing¡± to the enhancement¡¯s list and bumped it up to 4. When Corie finally responded, her voice was a little choked up.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    --Thank you so very much! You don¡¯t know what this means to me. Or how hard it is to see your Vanguard dying and not being able to do anything but talk. I¡¯ll be the best AI anyone¡¯s ever had!


    I had to smile at the relief and desperate happiness in Corie¡¯s tone. I couldn¡¯t find any words to respond, instead, I fumbled through sending the meaning of comfort over our connection.


    <Alright, let¡¯s get these people out of here.>


    The pistols I had dropped lay beside me, sitting next to the swords. All of them were pasted in alien blood and other substances. Unfortunately, there weren''t any free scraps of cloth to clean them. And by now, my own clothes were in a worse state than the weapons.


    <Can I get a towel or something to clean these off? Some alien came along while I was sleeping and puked all over them.>


    Corie giggled.


    --Here you go. I can make any mundane item like that. Unfortunately, it does cost one point.


    ¡°That better be some cleaning towel,¡± I muttered.


    "Purchased: Class 0 towel


    Cost: 1 Remaining points: 1,251¡±


    It was indeed an amazing towel. Fuzzy enough to absorb the alien blood but firm enough that I did not feel like I was going to tear it by looking at it funny. ¡°And how about you, Tara?¡± I asked while cleaning up my weapons.


    ¡°It was terrifying, and that was a stupid plan. You should have lured them down to you, where you could kill them at range.¡±


    --She¡¯s right. A simple sound and scent lure is only 2 points and is part of the general catalog.


    I rolled my eyes at Corie. ¡°Well, now that I know about it, I can do better. As I promised, I¡¯ll try to take better care of myself. How do the scouts look?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s clear to the stairs. But I didn¡¯t check the next level. One of my drones'' is on guard at the stairs. The other is on patrol between there and here. In the other direction, the drone beyond the prison is still active. They have broken down the prison walls and are at the first security door. They are trying to break it down.¡±


    ¡°Kang,¡± I stood and turned to the man standing guard over the hallway towards the entrance. ¡°Have your people move up. See this symbol?¡± I pointed to where I had painted on the wall. ¡°The arrow points out to the surface and hopefully safety. Each symbol like this shows a choke point or a turn. I¡¯ll be leapfrogging backwards from choke point to choke point.¡±


    ¡°You think we¡¯ll see any antithesis in front?¡±


    ¡°There should be less, but that¡¯s a far cry from none. Another Samurai is sealing the hive and has set up some turrets at the point where I came in. I worked my way upstream to here and blocked them, but they might have curled around since. Otherwise, I¡¯d be keeping you all with me on rear guard. Tara is checking ahead, and she will tell us if she finds any.¡±


    A loud boom from the machine room interrupted us, followed by another. ¡°Get your people moving. With our luck, that will be our chaser horde. Come to speed us along.¡±


    There was another loud boom, followed by Kaitlyn opening fire. I poked my head into the machine room to find an M-6 tangled up in the railing and half over the side. It flailed helplessly as it teetered on the edge. An M-5c pushed through and knocked the Six over the edge. I raised the Roomsweeper and fired off a burst, directing all of the flechettes to the new beast¡¯s head.


    ¡°That tears it. Kaitlyn, back up into the hallway; use the door jamb for cover. Everyone else, get moving.¡± Several M-3s were already crawling through the re-opened doorway and starting down the catwalk towards us.


    Kaitlyn and I held the door, and soon we were joined by Ginny. Our combined fire was more than enough to hold back the beasts at the narrow door. My worry was that we¡¯d soon get visitors from the other door in the room too. I glanced over, and sure enough, a bunch of M-4s were entering the lower floor and starting to climb the walls to reach us. I eliminated those in three short, guided bursts.


    Behind us, I heard the ex-prisoners trotting by. Soon, I felt a tap on my shoulder. ¡°Last person!¡± they shouted as they ran past. I started a mental timer. We needed to give the civilians enough time to get past the next choke point before we withdrew too. I continued to split my fire between the two entryways, while Kaitlyn and Ginny focused on the walkway and broken door. I knew that we would soon start to get overwhelmed, and I was planning the retreat in my head.


    When my mental timer was three quarters complete, the balance shifted. Another of the heavily armored M-6 pushed through the door and onto the catwalk, while at the other door, another large wave of M-4 rushed in. ¡°That¡¯s it. Ginny, retreat down the hallway to the far end of the boxes. Set up somewhere high so you can shoot over us.¡±

 Arc 1, Chapter 22 -- Back it up

    Citizens shall have the right to bear weapons for the purpose of self-defense, regardless of the degree of lethality. Citizens shall retain this right as long as they have a demonstrated ability to use it safely and are not themselves an active risk to other citizens. Each citizen may draw a minimal, functional weapon or ammunition from the government as part of their annual basic living allotment.


    -- Cascadia Constitution


    ***


    ¡°Don¡¯t do anything stupid,¡± she said, then her firing stopped, and I heard her running. A few seconds later, I sent Kaitlyn after her. I took her place at the door jamb, concentrating fire on the Anti¡¯s queued up behind the Six on the walkway. The massive M-6 had difficulties negotiating the tight turn, leaving me free to slaughter its followers for several seconds. As it finally completed the turn, I pulled back through the door.


    <Drop a Stegosaur in the doorway, perpendicular to the wall, so it sticks through the doorway.>


    --On it. That should slow them down. You don¡¯t want to block the door entirely?


    <No. They know where we are, and this lets them get through to us, but slowly. If we frustrate them too much, they will find another way and hit us where we didn¡¯t expect it.>


    As I answered her, I turned and sprinted down the hallway and through the slalom of boxes. Along the way, I noticed that someone had cleared out the bodies and that several of the boxes had been stuck to the floor with sealant. I took a knee behind the second-to-last box, then turned to check on Kaitlyn and Ginny. Kaitlyn was standing in an open doorway, braced against the jamb again. Opposite her was a tall stack of crates, over which poked the barrel of a rifle. However, behind the rifle was not Ginny but one of the ex-prisoners. Further down, I could see Ginny leading the last few evacuees away.


    At the end of the hall, I could see the spiked barricade poking into the hallway from the door. It moved a little, probably from the M-6 poking at it. I looked again at the new person. Her light blue eyes held a firm resolution despite the slight tremble of fear in her hands. ¡°I take it that you can use that?¡± I asked her. Something about her seemed familiar.


    ¡°After giving me a rifle for my birthday, my ex insisted I get my BSS and learn to shoot it. He took me to the range every week. A couple months later, I found him and the ammo girl in the head going at it like rabbits. I¡¯d enjoyed the time on the range enough to keep it up. I had to change shooting ranges, though. It was a shame. They had a great bar attached.¡±


    With that clue, it clicked. I¡¯d seen her at the range where I worked. She¡¯d only attended the basic safety class we required to supplement the government mandated Basis Safety Standards certification. She¡¯d graduated with high enough scores to catch the attention of the instructors, and I¡¯d heard she was good. If I remembered right, she usually used a lighter rifle. ¡°Watch the kick, and keep your elbow tucked in.¡± I turned back to the hallway, reassured that we had good support.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    She chuckled. ¡°Yes, Samurai sensei.¡± The barricade flipped onto its side. But it still blocked the way.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t remember your name. I¡¯m Marcus.¡± A screech of metal on metal echoed down the hall as the barricade moved again.


    ¡°Nice to meet you. I¡¯m Haruka. And yes, I don¡¯t have a drop of Japanese in me. My parents are anime nerds.¡±


    ¡°Ginny had to go herd cats again. It made more sense for someone else to use the rifle.¡± Kaitlyn explained the switch.


    ¡°Is Haruka on the conference call? If not, let¡¯s get her in it.¡± The snout of the M-6 poked around the corner. ¡°Let them into the hall before you start shooting. Corie can make sure you have ammo, but don¡¯t blow it all at once, please. It¡¯s expensive.¡± I switched to the conference call. ¡°Ginny, we¡¯re about to get loud here. If you have anyone, we could use an ammo loader like Tara used to do. They will be the first to retreat, but they need to be strong enough to handle the weight of the ammo.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can do.¡± Ginny replied.


    ¡°I¡¯ll also need some brave people with strong backs in the storage room when we get there.¡± I was already thinking ahead about how to prepare for the next choke point.


    The Six was now fully in the hallway, and I fired a burst of flechettes at it. I guided the rounds low, under the chin, to curve up into what I hoped was a soft underbelly. It jerked, at least, while the heavier rifle shots sparked off its armored head and shoulders. It started lumbering towards us but fell before reaching the first box. Around its falling body came several M-4s with a couple M-5c mixed in.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take the Fives while you two concentrate on the M-4s. They aren¡¯t slowed by the boxes like the others.¡± I concentrated on making sure that any of the ranged M-5cs didn¡¯t have a chance to get a shot off. The crates we were behind were thick, but I doubted if they could stop the spines, plus we had our upper bodies exposed to be able to fire on the aliens.


    Kaitlyn and Haruka made a good team. Kaitlyn still relied too much on auto, but her bursts injured the aliens enough that Haruka¡¯s slower, controlled shots could finish them. Despite that, I still had to take down a couple M-4s when too many of them were blocking shots on the M-5cs. Soon, we seemed to reach the end of the wave, and Ginny reported they were ready for us to fall back.


    ¡°This next transition is going to be harder. It¡¯s longer to the choke point, for one. And it will need a little setup.¡± I said both in the room and in the conference call. With all the shooting we¡¯d been doing, I wasn¡¯t sure Kaitlyn or Haruka could hear my voice directly. ¡°Kaitlyn, you will be going first. Run, don¡¯t walk. Stop at the doorway to the room. I¡¯m not sure which door was used, but there are several of them. Use the first one that is open.¡±


    ¡°Okay. Go now?¡± Kaitlyn asked.


    ¡°Yes. When you get in place, tell Haruka, and she will join you.¡± Kaitlyn¡¯s fire stopped, and I heard the thumps of her steps behind me. I was too busy picking up the slack to turn to look.


    ¡°Haruka, I want you to also run and get into the same doorway. We won¡¯t stay in the doorway, though. I want you two to hold it for a minute or two while I stage the room.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡±


    ¡°I have the people in the storeroom. What do you want us to do?¡± Ginny interrupted.


    ¡°Make a maze. We¡¯ll defend that back corner where the exit is. Leave an open space before it, but we want the Anti''s to have to slow down and split up. Give them choices. There shouldn¡¯t be any straight lines between the entry and exit.¡±


    ¡°Haruka, I¡¯m in place.¡± Kaitlyn interrupted me.


    ¡°We¡¯ll see what we can do,¡± Ginny said.

 Arc 1, Chapter 23 -- All Dressed Up

    Everyone¡¯s got to breathe, everyone¡¯s got to pay taxes, everyone¡¯s got to shit, and everyone¡¯s got to shit to store. We didn¡¯t invent self-storage, we just made it better.


    --Add campaign for Y¡¯haul Y¡¯store Y¡¯stuff.


    We only needed one. What are we going to do with twenty Gargelizer Two Thousands? What do you mean they don¡¯t have a return policy? Well, send them to storage. We¡¯ll figure something out later. We don¡¯t have time to deal with this; there¡¯s a deadline coming up.


    ***


    I did not respond, since I had a whole horde of Anti¡¯s bearing down on me. As my experience with the guidable rounds grew, I was able to handle more of the rounds in flight at once. I switched to full automatic, and the round¡¯s whistles blended together into a shrill, warbling tone.


    The gun spat out a steady four rounds per second, and I strained to keep control of so many projectiles. With four or five rounds in action at once, I had to plot trajectories for each and guide the rounds along the twisting paths. After a couple seconds, the guidance became more automatic as my hind-brain helped guide the rounds.


    The M-4 fell in droves. When a flechette did not kill, it still passed through to damage at least one more. I found that while I wasn¡¯t winning, I wasn¡¯t losing yet. On the other hand, I was getting low on ammo.


    ¡°I¡¯m in place,¡± Haruka said.


    I turned and ran. No fancy shooting while backing up; I ran in a flat out sprint.


    <Stegosaurs, three of them in order. Now¡­ Now¡­ Now.>


    After turning, I ordered up three of the spiked barricades, and they dropped in an alternating pattern. After that, I concentrated on running while hoping that no M-5cs could fill me with quills until I turned a corner. When the door into the storage room came into sight, I opened the conference call again. ¡°Tara, where are they?¡±


    ¡°A couple squigglies are right behind you. Most are still working through the barricades. Expect mostly squigglies to start. Some of the shell beasts are stuck on the spikes.¡±


    I thought about asking how large the horde was but decided that would be counterproductive. At this point, it was like swimming in the ocean; it didn¡¯t matter how deep the water was when you only swam in the top couple of feet. The door into the storage room was on my right, and I skidded on the slick tiles as I made the turn.


    ¡°Careful, it¡¯s slick,¡± kidded Kaitlyn.


    ¡°Hold here for a few minutes, maybe after the first couple die, then pull back.¡± I moved into the storage space to find it completely rearranged.


    Ginny was nearby, providing directions via hand motions as a lifter pivoted a full set of shelves around the end point. The unit had three shelves reaching four and a half meters in height. With the contents still on the top shelf, the ceiling only granted a few centimeters of clearance. Moving them was a delicate bit of work being done precisely at an insane speed, and I was impressed by the skill.


    ¡°Wow! This is completely different from before and much better than I expected.¡±


    ¡°Manuel spotted the lifter, and I asked Corie if she could get it running. It¡¯s the only thing that made the change possible.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°I see.¡± I peered through the gaps in the shelves to get a feel for the new layout. It looked properly complicated. ¡°They are almost here. Have folks take a few minutes and dump stuff off the top two shelves onto the floor. Leave anything heavy alone. Anything that can be reached from the floor should stay. We want to block sight and make the floor hard to walk on.¡±


    Kaitlyn overheard me and piped in. ¡°Any way to make the floor slick? It¡¯s already pretty slippery.¡±


    I liked her idea. ¡°Corie, do I have anything that would do that?¡±


    --The Combat Engineering catalog has a sprayer for, well, here¡¯s the full name; it¡¯s a kick: Super Slicker Slide and Glide Surface Treatment. The treatment bonds on contact to create a zero-friction surface. It comes in a spray pack and covers 500 square meters.


    For Kaitlyn¡¯s amusement, I ordered it out loud. ¡°One Super Slicker Slide and Glide Surface Treatment, please.¡± She snickered appropriately.


    A double-cylinder backpack appeared with a wand attachment. I handed it to Kaitlyn. ¡°Get the hallway from beyond the first door down to the end wall.¡± I pointed where the third entry to the storage room stood. ¡°Inside, hit anywhere they would be making turns towards us. Haruka, stay with Kaitlyn and cover her. I don¡¯t think we need to hold the door anymore. Tara, why are the Anti¡¯s taking so long to get here?¡±


    ¡°Not sure. The nearest squigglies are a couple corners back, standing still and doing nothing. Maybe they are waiting for the rest to catch up?¡±


    I frowned. That was not normal behavior for Anti¡¯s. ¡°Odd. Let us know when they start coming at us again.¡±


    ¡°Roger.¡±


    I weaved my way through the maze, dodging the occasional falling box, and finally reached the back corner, where we would be making our stand. In front of the corner we would be defending, a small open area gave clear fire lines, but we did not have anything to stand behind.


    <Any chance the Combat Engineering catalog has a shooting platform?>


    --No. You could piece one together, but it would be prohibitively expensive.


    ¡°I need a couple crates or boxes, about waist high, on either side of the corner,¡± I said to the shelf-moving team still present.


    One of them scanned the shelves quickly before pointing at a stack of something on the third level. ¡°Tommy, get a couple of those flats, and I¡¯ll get a pallet of something. The lift¡¯s forks can be one with a flat on it, and the full pallet will be the other.¡± They quickly mobilized, and within minutes I had two elevated places people could stand on by each corner of the doorway. To those, I added a full barrier for cover. Smaller boxes formed steps up to the platforms.


    When they were done with the floor, I posted Kaitlyn and Haruka on the improvised shooting platforms. The moving crew joined the evacuation, taking the slick spray pack with them. Around our little corner, I set up Stegosaur barricades, leaving no gaps. In the center, I had a couple pieces of heavy equipment to hide behind for cover.


    ¡°I feel like I¡¯m all dressed up for the prom, but she¡¯s not ready yet.¡± A mid-teen stood to one side nervously. He had introduced himself as Jasper and said that he had volunteered to fill ammo for Kaitlyn and Haruka. I would need to get my ammo directly from Corie, and I had already reloaded my rifle and set a spare to the side.


    ¡°I know what you mean. Tara, any word on our guests?¡± I asked, switching to the conference.


    ¡°Two of the shell beasts are clear; they still have the spikes sticking out of them. The closest one is still trying to get free. It should be a couple minutes yet.¡±


    ¡°Good. Ginny, how is the evac going?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re all at the base of the stairs now or in a room just before it. Tara sent a drone up, and we have a couple Model Threes in children¡¯s wares. Kang says he can deal with that. But we¡¯re waiting to check on the other doors and hallway here.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m worried about defending that area,¡± I admitted. ¡°It¡¯s not a good place to hold. And we¡¯re pretty close. We¡¯ll be coming in hot when we do.¡±


    ¡°What do you want to do defense-wise?¡± she asked.


    Since I didn¡¯t have a lot of inspiration for any of the spaces before the stairs up, I gave her some general ideas and let her go with them. ¡°You did great here in the storage room. Do what you can with what you have, and I¡¯ll bless it with Samurai magic when we fall back.¡± I couldn¡¯t micromanage at a distance, and, despite a lack of experience, she had done much better than could be expected already.

 Arc 1, Chapter 24 -- Planning ahead

    Didir: Are you done with that hive yet?


    Jonnie Be Good: What? I¡¯m on it?


    D:That hive won¡¯t plug itself.


    J: Actually, I¡¯m going to need some perimeter control.


    D:Why?


    J: Newbie needs some points.


    ***


    I was also worried about splitting our forces with the stairs. When we had to retreat, we would probably be dependent on Kang¡¯s team to help while we set up. They couldn¡¯t do that if they were up a level, clearing out Anti¡¯s. It was too bad the M-3¡¯s hadn¡¯t found Jonnie¡¯s turrets. Could we get them there?


    <That sight and scent lure you mentioned. Could it be attached to a drone?>


    --Certainly. Were you thinking of misleading the horde?


    <More having Tara use a drone to clear the next floor up. Jonnie has those sound turrets she could draw them to.>


    --Would she do that? She didn¡¯t want to use the gun you offered her.


    <The only thing I can do is ask.>


    ¡°Tara, I don¡¯t know a good way to ask this. I have an idea for how to deal with the Threes upstairs, but it relies on you. But I also don¡¯t want to offend your convictions. How do you feel about luring the Anti¡¯s to places where they can be killed?¡±


    ¡°I play mouse to their cat? A mouse will do what a mouse does: it runs and dodges. It¡¯s not the mouse¡¯s fault that the cat can¡¯t fly.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a yes? Opposite the stairs we¡¯re coming up should be a central staircase. Another Samurai has set up defenses on it, but they may not be visible.¡±


    ¡°I see it. The stairs and floor are covered in goo. What is it with you and goo? It¡¯s unnatural.¡±


    ¡°That sounds about right. Here¡¯s the drone.¡±


    Purchased: Stinky Mouse Custom Lure Drone


    Cost: 25 Remaining points: 2,601


    --I customized it from a scent-gathering drone in your catalog.


    A palm-sized quadcopter appeared and started to fly off after the evacuees. Dangling below it was a long line leading to a fluffy ball.


    ¡°Did that drone have fur? I swear it had fur.¡± Haruka said.


    In the conference call, Tara reacted to the drone. ¡°Eeeee! It¡¯s so cute! Designating drone mouse one, call sign: Jerry.¡±


    I muttered to myself, ¡°She named it. Never let them name it. I¡¯m never getting my drone back, am I?¡± Shaking my head, I turned to the next fire to put out.


    <Speaking of Jonnie¡¯s turrets, I guess I should check in with him. Let him know to expect us.>


    --I¡¯ve sent a couple updates to Wylbur, but it would be courteous to update him. He is the one in charge of this hive, after all.


    <Okay, connect me through, please?>


    It picked up on the second ring. ¡°Once again, the little duckling graces my phone. I was actually about to call you. How deep in are you?¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°I¡¯m actually almost back out. I was able to save those prisoners, and I¡¯m escorting them out the way I came in. I have about one hundred twenty evacuees. Ten of them are mobility-impaired. Unfortunately, we have some heavy pursuit by the antithesis. We¡¯re going to be going back through those sonic turrets you set up where we met. Will the turrets hurt the civilians?¡±


    ¡°Other than some temporary hearing damage, no. And maybe not even that, if there aren¡¯t any antithesis with them. How long until you are out?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re starting the first set of stairs, and after that, we have the ones with your turrets. Like I said, we have several people in wheelchairs. I¡¯ve been doing a step-by-step retreat, but I¡¯m honestly out of space to retreat to. Any way to get help on that top set of stairs?¡±


    ¡°I just checked a drone I left, and there are some emergency service people in the area. I¡¯ll contact them and have them ready for you.¡±


    I checked the feed on our own drones and spotted several M-4s running towards the storage room door. ¡°We have incoming,¡± I said. ¡°So unless there¡¯s anything else, I need to go.¡±


    ¡°Go ahead. Happy hunting.¡± Jonnie¡¯s connection ended.


    The bulky aliens tried to break for the turn into the door, only to slide on by when all traction disappeared. I followed them as they slid down the hall, bouncing off the sides before hitting the wall at the end.


    ¡°Tara, is the drone feed data getting recorded?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve been recording it on a secure off-site server. Kaitlyn asked me to.¡± Corie responded in the conference call.


    ¡°Good. My sister would love to see the Anti¡¯s slip and slide. Oh, and it looks like they found the other door. Time to earn our keep.¡± Through a gap in the shelves¡¯ contents, I could barely see the third door and the M-4 coming through. I filled it with flechettes to help block the door. The next one turned the other way; I only saw a flicker of movement. The third one showed a leg down low, and I punished it for its daring, unfortunately not fatally. The fourth met Haruka¡¯s heavier bullet in the face.


    There was a short pause as more came up, and the two in the maze found their way. It was fun to see the one that I wounded try to turn only to keep careening past the opening. It did finally make an appearance, but only as another M-4 came to the intersection much more slowly. I released a burst at them, splitting the flechettes. I shot both, and another one that had come on their heels. I checked the other direction and shot an enterprising M-4 that had climbed up to the third shelf layer. ¡°Watch the upper shelves.¡±


    A host of the smaller, faster Threes soon joined the M-4s already in the room. They bound forward, only for the groups to break up as they skidded through the slick spots. I split my attention between the ones exiting the maze and using the gaps among the shelves to kill them as they entered the room. Soon, the weight of numbers took their toll, and it was all we could do to keep the open area cleared of living aliens.


    I¡¯d intended the maze to slow them down and give us chances for chosen shots. Instead, it provided too much cover and only let them get that much closer. Breaking up the groups wasn¡¯t worth letting them get this close before we could open fire. Even as we struggled to hold against the tide, a part of my mind was evaluating the situation and what we could have done better. And another part thought ahead to the next choke point.


    ¡°Ginny? Status?¡±


    ¡°The lure worked like a charm, and we¡¯re sending people up already. We¡¯re about halfway through the wheelchairs. Once that is done, we can clear out the rest pretty quickly. Kang and his team are manning the defenses we have set up. When you come in, stay to the left at the last bit.¡±


    ¡°I feel like we¡¯re about done here, so we¡¯ll see you soon. Hopefully we won¡¯t have them hot on our tails, but there¡¯s no guarantee. Jasper, finish up that set of magazines and pull back.¡±


    ¡°What are you worried about?¡± Kaitlyn asked.


    ¡°There¡¯s been a whole lot of M-3 and M-4 in here, but I don¡¯t recall any Sixes or Fives. Weren¡¯t there supposed to be at least three M-6?¡±


    ¡°The three shell beasts that got stuck are outside the doors now. They have several thags with them, at least a couple each.¡± Tara was still watching the Anti¡¯s via drone cameras.


    ¡°I get the feeling they are up to something. And we¡¯re not going to like it. In fact, you should both get off those high spots. I want you ready to run and run fast.¡± While the platforms were not so high that they couldn¡¯t jump down, now was not the time to risk a turned ankle.


    Kaitlyn and Haruka both paused their fire to jump down the box steps and prepare to leave. It only took a couple seconds, but that was long enough for the swarm of M-3s to reach the barricade wall. The aliens pulled up just short of the spikes, some getting long scrapes on their faces. At this range, the ability to aim the flechettes was useless. The rounds were impacting bare meters beyond the barrel, with no space to angle for multiple hits per round. I wished that I had a way to switch to something simpler, but with more raw stopping power.


    I used the Roomsweeper like a more standard automatic, firing bursts of fire toward each alien, then moving on as they fell. Anti¡¯s died in waves as I waved the Roomsweeper back and forth. By the time Kaitlyn and Haruka were back in the fight, I was nearly out of ammo. I frantically swapped drums as the alien dogs scrambled just beyond the barricade.


    With all three guns running again, we beat the tide back to the openings again. I scanned the battlefield, and I noticed a flicker of motion at the doors. A large crash filled the room, just as Tara reported.


    ¡°They¡¯re moving in. All three with thags behind.¡±

 Arc 1, Chapter 25 -- Back again

    Sometimes the only smart move is to relocate and redecorate. It¡¯s time to drop a bang and set wheels to heels.


    --Exeter Dan, live stream while running from a horde of antithesis that caught him by surprise.


    ***


    In the corner of my glasses, a camera view showed two of the doors from a high angle. The large aliens had rammed the shelves, and now they were pushing against them with all six stubby legs. The camera shook and started to lean over into the room.


    ¡°Run!¡± I ordered. The other rifles stopped as Kaitlyn and Haruka sprinted away. The shelves toppled over, one into the other like dominoes. I backed up to the door frame but continued to kill Anti¡¯s while the shelves toppled into a giant mess. Over the debris, I watched as one of the heavy M-6s raised up on its hindmost pair of legs and slammed down onto the pile in front of it. Metal shelf supports bent, and boxes collapsed into a flattened heap. It moved forward a few paces and repeated the action. They were making highways¡ªflat channels for the Anti¡¯s to bypass the broken remains of our maze. Behind them, a dozen M-5Cs formed a long, straight line, and their tails cocked back in unison.


    I ducked behind the jamb and kept moving along the wall as I heard the impact of a hundred thorns landing in our holdout. The wall shook as thorns blasted through the plaster around the doorway.


    <Enzyme.> I ordered. I triggered the can and dropped it over my shoulder. White fog swirled at my heels as I sprinted away.


    "Purchased: Kniesen Enzymatic Corpse Reduction


    Cost: 20 Remaining points: 3,913¡±


    The stretch of hallway between the storage room and the stairwell was mostly straight, with only two turns forming an extended dogleg. Fortunately, the first turn was blessedly soon, or I would have been a pincushion. I still had no idea if the enzyme cloud would deter the Anti¡¯s or not. At the least, I figured it would fog up the air and make it harder to target me. Either way, I cleared the two corners and was soon in the final straight hallway to the emergency exit. ¡°Stay left. They¡¯re not following you yet.¡± Tara said. I must have passed by one of the drones.


    Ahead of me, the hallway opened to the left. Beyond the opening, I could see several makeshift platforms. One of the shelf movers stood still in the hallway, waving me on. She had the slick spray backpack on. I started to slow down to be last, but she said. ¡°Go on. I have to fill in the safe path behind us.¡±


    I shook my head and went on in. She followed, spraying the floor and walls behind her. Coming into the room, I saw that Ginny had done an excellent job setting up defenses using the only thing available: office furniture. About six meters into the room stood shooting towers made from filing cabinets and desks fronted by cubicle dividers, and a short wall of tables and more cubicle dividers bent back towards the opening. As the sprayer and I came though, a team slid a final side wall in place to close the kill zone off behind us. Beyond the towers, several standing partitions stood in a cascade. They should prevent any Anti¡¯s from seeing the civilians still waiting to go up the stairs.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    I quickly walked around the defenses, reaching over the walls to drop a Stegosaur every few meters. Before settling in, I hurried over to the other side of the stairwell. Ginny¡¯s workers had stuffed the hallway full of furniture and sealed it with foam to prevent trouble from behind. At least we¡¯d hear them destroying the furniture as a warning. I added three more Stegosaurs and a barrier. The last of the foam sealant went to secure the barrier to the walls.


    Back at the main fort, I saw Kaitlyn grinning. At my raised eyebrow, she explained. ¡°The feed¡¯s going bonkers over the sliding aliens. They want more.¡±


    ¡°Too bad we couldn¡¯t have them sliding into a wood chipper or something,¡± Haruka added.


    ¡°Or a pit,¡± I said while staring at the floor in our killing zone. ¡°Does anyone know what happened to the Wallcutter stuff?¡±


    Ginny replied. ¡°I had it sent up since I couldn¡¯t think of a use here. Why? Holes in the walls will only let more Anti¡¯s in.¡±


    I started climbing up on one of the platforms. ¡°What do you call a wall on its side?¡±


    Haruka was grinning. ¡°Matt! We¡¯ll need some way to get over the barricades.¡±


    <Wallcutter, please.>


    ¡°Only one direction. I¡¯ll need an exit, something extended over the spikes.¡± I leaped out into the killing field, landing in a roll. As proof of how good an AI I had, a new squeeze gun dropped into my outstretched hand while I continued the roll into a stand. I started to make a single loop on the floor, extending into the greased space and covering most of the space inside the barricade.


    --You¡¯ll probably have to do two passes. Floors are usually thicker and stronger.


    I nodded and started to apply it thicker before starting on a second pass. Everyone waited in silence. Down the hall, I heard the skittering of claws on tile. Even while still spreading the line, I added two of the trigger flags at separate spots. As soon as the can was empty, I ran to the side wall, where a ladder was leaning out over the spikes while two people held the other end. I jumped on board, and they started levering me up while I climbed. As soon as I was up high enough, the rifles started to fire. Hands pulled me along the ladder, past the barricade, while bullets whizzed past my feet. The gunfire ended. Getting around to my firing position, I saw five or six doglike bodies lying in the hall.


    ¡°I do have two unused laser pistols if anyone wants to volunteer. But anyone who is not armed should get out of sight and be ready to evacuate. There are emergency responders up at the top, waiting to help with the last set of stairs, so everyone should go all the way up to ground level. Don¡¯t bother waiting at the top of this stair; keep going on out. Once everyone¡¯s up, we¡¯ll clear out of here. I know we¡¯re all tired. We only have to hold a little longer, and then we can all relax.¡± A wave of M-3s turned the corner and started sprinting toward us. ¡°End of speech. Time to kill.¡± I opened fire on the incoming horde.

 Arc 1, Chapter 26 -- The end is Nigh

    ¡°¡­some structural damage to the foundation and sewer pre-treatment, and the machine room¡¯s all shot to hell. The HVAC motors, fans, and thermal pumps are all shot to hell. And the same for the backup generators. Some scattered damage to effects in the rooms, but the biggest cost will be the cleaning bill. Overall, I¡¯d say you got off lightly.¡±


    ¡°Lightly? That¡¯s still near a billion credits! At least the insurance will cover it.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, about that.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°PrudInsco said they won¡¯t pay.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got full coverage!¡±


    ¡°Uh, do you recall that last quarter you dropped the Samurai Damage rider? I hope you have some deep pockets, otherwise, I have an uncle that can float you a loan.¡°


    --Soon to be conversation at a building nearby.


    ***


    As we fired on the Anti¡¯s bearing down on us, I debated with myself when to trigger the floor.


    Part of me wanted to see them bowling down the hallway, only to lose control and drop into the pit. On the other hand, there might be a morale advantage to literally pulling the rug out from under them at the last minute.


    If we were fighting humans, letting them get to the barricade before pulling the surprise would devastate the confidence of any that remained. But whether the Anti¡¯s even had morale was a heavily debated question. They never showed signs of worry or shock. And their self-preservation instincts were secondary to the needs of the hive. The popular opinion was that they only had two drives: kill and defend the hive. On the other hand, if there was any advantage in making it a surprise, I couldn¡¯t afford to give that up.


    Then a chill ran up my spine at a thought. What if there were supports under the floor, or we cut through a structural member? We could end up with the building coming down on us, or the floor might not drop at all. I froze in a moment of indecision¡ªto risk the cut? Or try to tough it out?


    I was about to ask Corie about the building¡¯s structural members when the decision was taken from me. After a minute of nothing but M-3s, a bulky M-6 turned the corner and started to run towards us, head down. ¡°Pulling the rug,¡± I yelled, and I triggered the Wallcutter even before conscious thought had a reason. It finally registered why: the hasty defenses would never survive the hit from such a heavy monster. Live or dead, the mass alone would shatter the office furniture and our defenses along with it, opening up the way for the rest of the horde.


    Bullets of various calibers sparked on the thick head armor. I fired multiple bursts, guiding the flechettes in an elegant curve from down and out to up and in, bypassing the head for the belly. It continued to gain speed, and after six paces, I knew there was no stopping it. At best, even if we killed it, it would roll and slow down after leaving the grease patch.


    The cutter fluid hissed and sparked, and a deep groove showed the edges of the killing zone. We continued to fire. I changed to the right front leg on the slim chance that if it stumbled, it might twist and get jammed against the walls. The light flechettes only sparked off the tough hide. They lacked the momentum to break through. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    It crossed the invisible line of traction, and its legs flew out in all directions. The juggernaut slid, unstoppable, towards the walls of our little fort. It flew out of the hallway into our encircled killing ground, its momentum unslowed. With a loud clang, the weakened floor buckled and dropped, and with it, the Model Six plummeted a story and a half.


    I didn¡¯t know if it survived the fall, and frankly, I didn¡¯t care. My focus was on the wave of Anti¡¯s that rushed behind the tank. Something about the long, open hallway triggered a frenzy among the aliens. They all charged towards us, only to lose control and fly into the depths. The Threes were particularly prone to the frenzy, and they charged at full steam like they were in some contest to see which could go the farthest out while they fell into the depths.


    A couple M-3s tried to leap up from below, only to fall back down. We¡¯d gotten lucky with the floor below being taller than average. Despite having a seemingly perfect defense, we continued to fire on them and kill as many as we could. Anti¡¯s were better off dead, after all, but everyone knew we had won.


    The only things that could reach us now were the wall-climbing M-4 and the ranged attacks of the M-5c. I kept a special eye out for the ranged Anti¡¯s. As they showed, I punished them ruthlessly to make sure that they couldn¡¯t launch any quills at us. After a few minutes, some of the M-4, calmer than the others, or just smarter, pushed to the fore, clinging to the walls and ceilings.


    They were easy targets, raised up over the heads of the rushing M-3s, and slower. But we couldn¡¯t keep all of them back. I started to get worried, until the first M-4 reached the area we had greased. It pushed one tentacle beyond the invisible line, then another. As half its body crossed the line, it flailed its tentacles for a second before dropping onto an M-3 sliding by.


    Kang smirked at me. ¡°We coated the ceiling,¡± he yelled over the gunfire, ¡°and even the walls out into this space with the slippery stuff. No Model Four will be able to wall crawl past us. Woops! Unless we let them do that.¡± He aimed at one that had stabbed the sharp points of the tentacle into the wall and used that to hold onto the slippery walls. But that was even slower going, and it fell to concentrated fire long before it reached the opening.


    ¡°All the people are out safe. It¡¯s just the rearguard left. How are you going to get out of there?¡± Ginny said in the conference.


    I honestly didn¡¯t have any ideas. I had wanted to do the same staggered pull-back as before. Get the ex-prisoners out first, followed by Haruka and Kaitlyn, and finally me. But the press of Anti¡¯s were relentless, and the physical defenses paper thin. All it would take was a lucky or enterprising alien, and they could start to get around us. Or something could come up from below. While most of the aliens were flying into the pit, I didn¡¯t trust it to guard our backs while we fled.


    Tara came to our rescue. ¡°There¡¯s a gap coming¡ªa period without any of the monsters. If you can kill fast, you should have time to get into the stairway before the next wave reaches the last turn.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like our best bet.¡± I raised my voice for all in the room to hear. ¡°Everyone! Our escape awaits, but we have to kill faster.¡± Everyone laughed. I didn¡¯t think anyone had been holding back and was doing their best to eliminate the horde. Everyone except me. I had been holding back to ensure that I was free to kill M-5cs or fill gaps. I kicked the Roomsweeper into full auto and started guiding rounds for multiple kills per round. Soon, the hallway became a true slaughterhouse. The aliens died by threes and fours per flechette. Their packed conditions let me line up multiple kills per round, and soon they were beaten back to the end of our sight. Tara gave the all-clear, and we all hurried away.


    As I climbed the final stairs under the silent guard of Jonnie¡¯s turrets, I realized I was tired. Not physically tired and in need of sleep, I could still go on for hours. But mentally tired. It drained my will to do anything related to the ex-prisoners and killing antithesis. I was done with this building and wanted to move on to something different. I paused to send a text message to Jonnie:


    <blockquote>


    Me: We¡¯re out, and the civilians are safely past your turrets.


    Jonnie: Great.


    Me: How long until you can close the hive and I can go home?


    J: Maybe another hour or so? Your area is the relief valve. It¡¯s getting the majority of the antithesis.


    J: I¡¯m at the hive now and about to destroy it. It should take about an hour for the last waves to push outward, unless they come back to try for revenge.


    J: Once that last wave is done, we can leave it to the cleanup crew and PMCs.


    </blockquote>

 Arc 1, Chapter 27 -- Wrap up

    Hi Mom,


    Made it through.


    Met a nice guy.


    No, not that kind of guy.


    Though he is easy on the eyes. But I don''t think so. At least not yet.


    But now we''re out now, and he''s going to go on and do great things. That¡¯s what Samurai do.


    And I''ll be left behind. I don''t have anything to give to him.


    I wonder if I''ll ever see him again?


    Sorry, I''m just being maudlin.


    I''ve got to go wrangle some people and make sure they all get home safe.


    I love you. I miss you.


    -- Ginny via email


    ***


    I leaned against the stairwell wall and soaked up the simple joy of how easy it was to have a text conversation in something like real time without pulling out my tablet. I also glanced over my other messages. I had a bundle from my sister, and that was about it. Some spam texts, mostly.


    ¡°Are you going to stay down there? Or come up?¡± Ginny asked. She, Kaitlyn, and Tara were standing at the top of the stairs together.


    ¡°Just checking my messages,¡± I said. As I took the last couple stairs, Tara tackled me. She wrapped her arms around me and buried her head in my chest. I held out my arms for Kaitlyn and Ginny, and to my surprise, they joined the hug, gripping me tightly. I hugged them back, unsure what to say other than ¡°You¡¯re out. You¡¯re safe.¡±


    We stood that way while the stress of the day bled away. Tears stained my shirt, and I think I heard a few sniffles. Kaitlyn was the first to break out of the hug. ¡°I need to go. You should come out and say goodbye to the others you rescued.¡± I nodded. Ginny soon nodded and went outside too, but Tara continued to cling to me. I looked around and saw that there were a half dozen people in armored vests, helmets, and the uniform of a local PMC patrolling the ground floor of the store. A few more stood over the stairwell, watching down past the second landing for more antithesis.


    ¡°Are any of the drones still down there?¡± She nodded against my chest. ¡°Jonnie said that we might get some more Anti¡¯s still. Can you set up a patrol? And maybe we should keep an eye on the horde.¡± She nodded again. Her grip relaxed. I wasn¡¯t sure if her personality was due to the stress and trauma of the situation or if she had longer-standing issues, but if she needed my support now, my mother would shame me if I denied it. I¡¯d noticed how having the drones to concentrate on seemed to stabilize her.


    In my glasses, I watched her guide my drones around. I was impressed by how much she¡¯d improved in one day.


    <How much of the drone handling is from you and how much from Tara?>


    --Nearly all from her, with some support from the native software. She¡¯s actually quite talented at this. Give her a couple cyber upgrades, and she would make a great Eye for you.


    <Eye?>


    --Short for Eye in the Sky, the person that manages your surveillance and drones. Vanguards often build support teams to dump work on so they can concentrate on what matters. It¡¯s early for you to start the harem, but all three of your girls would make good additions.


    Her sending had overtones of both humor and seriousness in it.


    <Don¡¯t even start down that avenue. They are friends. Period. Besides, I don¡¯t think I can afford employees. I can barely afford rent and utilities as it is.>


    --As a Vanguard, you have a whole host of opportunities to practically print money.


    Tara distracted me from that thought by letting go. ¡°I have to pee,¡± she stated with her customary abruptness.


    One of the PMC members, who had been hovering a discreet distance away, cleared his throat. ¡°There are facilities set up outside if you want, ma¡¯am.¡± He pointed a thumb over his shoulder towards the front door.


    Tara ran off, and I turned to the man. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you want a status update?¡± I spent several minutes getting debriefed by the soldier and making sure he knew what to expect. I had the feeling that he already knew most of what I said, but that he appreciated the confirmation. I certainly found it helpful. It had been a long and stressful time, and talking through the events helped me put them into perspective. I ended the conversation with a promise that I¡¯d stay through the final wave, just in case.


    Feeling assured that the area was more or less safe, I headed out of the building. Looking past the clothing, I realized that it was dark out. Several light towers had been set up, adding their harsh white light to the ever changing neon ad-glow reflecting from the rain-slick surfaces. The plate glass window I had entered through was still open. Somehow, it seemed more fitting to come out the way I entered, so I jumped through the opening.


    A loud cheer rose in response to my exit. Most of the people that we had rescued were still in the area, along with a leavening of firefighters, police, and more soldiers from the PMC. Hearing the applause of the people lightened my heart. I recognized a few people, and the young girl whose leg we fixed ran up and hugged me. I waved to everyone, a little confused about what to do next. As I returned the hug, I heard the girl say, ¡°Thank you for saving me. And for fixing my leg.¡±Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!


    I knew there were no adequate words for the situation and simply said, ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± After a minute, I asked her. ¡°Do you have people to watch out for you?¡±


    ¡°My mum¡¯s coming. And the rescue people said something about talking to my school¡¯s counselor.¡±


    Ginny was standing behind and to the side of me. ¡°There are several social workers here, making sure people have a place to land.¡±


    The little girl let me go. ¡°Stay safe, Mister Samurai.¡±


    ¡°I will. As safe as I can be.¡± I promised.


    I reached out a hand to Kang, who came forward and shook it. ¡°If you want a recommendation with a PMC, you can use me as a reference.¡± I told him.


    ¡°Oh, no. I¡¯m going back to office work. But I might splurge on a membership at a shooting range. Some of the shots you made,¡± he said, shaking his head.


    ¡°You have good form. Get a little practice, and you¡¯ll be someone to be reckoned with,¡± I replied.


    He wandered off, and another person walked up to thank me. Soon, a line was formed, with everyone wanting to express their thanks. At the end of the line were the pregnant former cultist and her husband.


    ¡°We¡¯d been arguing about baby names, or were before, you know. And I think we¡¯ve finally decided on one. Marcus for a boy and Margo for a girl, but we¡¯ll call her Marquis,¡± she said.


    As I looked her in the eye, I wasn¡¯t sure how to take her comment or how I felt about the couple. I was very aware of how fickle fate could be and how circumstances could force you into a bad spot or decision. That said, I still felt some wariness towards the couple. Some of that, I acknowledged, was due to guilt by association. But there was no way to know the truth about how they became involved, and their excuses seemed thin.


    The line about losing their RIS ID they''d given back in at the cultists prison was sketchy. Anyone could lose their ID; my sister once lost hers four times in two weeks. But each time she was able to get it replaced in a couple of hours, most of which was spent on the bus. The Bureau of ID Management was one of the most efficient parts of the government bureaucracy.


    On top of that, the reason they said shelters rejected them didn¡¯t make sense to me. All things considered, I had difficulty trusting them, but I had no wish to harm them either.


    ¡°Then you should take good care of the little one. Maybe talk to the social workers about how to get your feet under you. You have a new chance now. This is your moment, and I hope you have the wisdom and courage to seize it and build a better life.¡±


    Off to the side, a police officer stood, and I caught his eye. ¡°Excuse me, it looks like this officer wants to talk to me.¡± I turned away from the couple and stepped towards the policeman.


    As we got close, I extended my hand. ¡°I¡¯m Marcus. Thanks for helping out here and keeping us all organized.¡±


    He shook my hand and his head. ¡°Sergeant Hammond. And I¡¯m not the one organizing things. It¡¯s that hellion you brought out with you, Ginny, was it? She¡¯s the one that whipped us all into order right straight.¡±


    I glanced around and took in the crowd. Strangely, it had a familiar order to it, and I could easily see how Ginny would have arranged it. ¡°Actually, I wanted to ask you something. When this all started, I rescued a busload of children. I sent them off into the building there.¡± I gestured toward the building opposite us. ¡°Is there some way I can find out what happened to them?¡±


    ¡°Let me check the database.¡± He gazed off into the middle distance, his fingers and eyes flicking to and fro. ¡°Ah, there it is. They were cleared out safely and made it home. I don¡¯t think they even knew you were a Samurai. The teacher asked about you and logged a request for you to reach out to them if you were found and survived. She noted that it would reassure the children to know you were okay.¡±


    He provided contact information for the school, and I promised I would contact them. He nodded and was called off to some other critical something. I looked around, not sure if there were any other details I needed to look into. I recognized the listlessness I get when I¡¯ve been on a task for too long and need a break. I still had energy and could push on if needed, but motivationally, I was done with this whole situation and ready to move on.


    ¡°And here we have our hero. A local elevated to the ranks of the elite in a time of need who has rescued all these people. How does it feel to have completed your mission?¡± A dark-skinned lady with long, straight hair stepped up and pushed a microphone into my face.


    When several drones closed in to float around us with bright lights, I realized this was a reporter. The cameras all showed little red lights, indicating they were recording or broadcasting. I pushed through the haze of mental fatigue to come up with an answer. For want of a better answer, I replied truthfully. ¡°Tired, mostly, but also relieved. I am glad that we were able to get these people safe, both from the cultists that had captured them and from the antithesis they were going to be sacrificed to.¡±


    ¡°I understand that you only became a Samurai today; how did that happen?¡±


    I wondered how this lady had already gotten so much information about me until I spotted a familiar red-head behind the reporter. Kaitlyn¡¯s augs were also glowing with the recording light, and she had the steady gaze of a person recording. ¡°I hit a moment, and I chose. Not whether to be a Samurai, you don¡¯t get to choose that. I chose to stand in the gap. I had a split second to stop that Model Six from flattening a bus full of kids. I didn¡¯t know if I would survive. Frankly, I didn¡¯t even think about survival. All I knew was that the antithesis had to be stopped, and I could do it. I¡¯m fortunate that I survived.


    ¡°And I¡¯m doubly fortunate that I have the training to follow through and finish the job. I had other moments in there.¡± I gestured to the still-ruined window and the stairs below. ¡°When I heard someone else¡¯s gunfire. When I was told about the prisoners. Some moments take a split second, others a lot longer. Some moments you have time to think and ponder to find a good or better solution¡ªhow to get people out of their cells and not get discovered. Others don¡¯t have that luxury, and if you hesitate, you miss it. For those, you need to have already decided, if only in the back of your mind, what you will do. I hit that tiny split-second moment, and there wasn¡¯t any question of consequences or survival. I saw a gap and stood in it.¡± I shrugged.


    ¡°It is those moments that you find or that find you that let you make a difference in yourself and in other people¡¯s lives. To keep them alive or make the world better. We all have these moments, and we have to decide before we get there what we will do.¡± Behind the reporter, I saw Kaitlyn still smiling but also making a cutting-off motion. I realized that I¡¯d been letting my mouth run on before engaging my brain, and I stopped. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m rambling on here. It¡¯s been a long day.¡±


    ¡°No worries, that was fascinating. So what will you do next?¡±


    ¡°Next? This is still happening. The hive is still there, and we will probably have more antithesis on the way. After that? I¡¯m going to go home and sleep. Tomorrow will be its own thing, and there¡¯s no telling what it will bring you.¡±


    ¡°One last question, and I¡¯ll let you go. I hear that not all Samurai pick their name right away. Do you know what yours will be?¡±


    I looked around at the people I¡¯d protected and smiled. ¡°I¡¯m Xenovir, and I stand in the breach.¡±


    She turned away from me, figuratively and physically. ¡°And there we have it, folks, Portland¡¯s newest Samurai. An interestingly philosophical one, but a new defender of the city. We¡¯ll have to keep an eye out for this one, and I¡¯ll be sure to keep you advised. I¡¯m Anandia with KOIN-6 news.¡± The drone¡¯s lights all cut off, and they drifted away.

 Author note, end of Arc 1

    Author note, end of Arc 1


    This brings the first Arc of Carpe Momentum to a close. But the changes happening to Marcus don¡¯t end here, and neither does our story. I already have the next Arc written and ready, so the story will continue uninterrupted.


    However, I feel that I should warn you, my faithful readers, that the second arc will be different from the first.


    The first arc was very focused on combat, survival, and saving the captives. The second arc is focused on Marcus getting set up for his life as a Samurai and explores both his life before and how becoming a Samurai affects his life. It will show different aspects of his character and even, hopefully, some new aspects of the world of SCS.


    Don¡¯t worry; we¡¯ll also see more of Ginny, Kaitlyn, and Tara. While being a Samurai wasn¡¯t in the cards for them, they are still going to be an important part of the story, and in Arc 2 we do get some development of their character too. I¡¯ve grown attached to them too and have some plans for how to keep them involved. I think it¡¯s also important to show that you don¡¯t have to be a special chosen to make a difference, and they also can help us understand what the SCS world is like for non-Samurai.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Now, I know that there are some folks that like SCS for the numbers, and others don¡¯t care. I¡¯ve been pretty vague as to Marcus¡¯s kills and points for the last bit. This isn¡¯t an oversight but a deliberate choice. I do have quantities of how much he¡¯s killed at each stage, down to the model numbers. But it can get a bit¡­boring to have to go over those all the time for author and reader alike. So my solution is to provide it all in one big chunk here at the end. The afterward of this chapter contains the full list of his kills and his points collection.


    I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯ll do all his purchases or not. I do get a little hand-wavy on some minor things like ammo, but anything that isn¡¯t a minor consumable is accounted for. Let me know if you are interested, and I can update the list.

 Arc 2, Chapter 1 -- Rides

    Being a Vanguard is hard. About a quarter of all Samurai die before they can even talk to their AI. Their injuries are too great, or they just can¡¯t muster the will to move, or even doubt their AI too long. Then another twenty percent don¡¯t survive their next encounter with the Antithesis. By the end of the first day, more than half of those chosen will have passed away.


    Really, it¡¯s a wonder that more don¡¯t fall away. They¡¯re born in desperate situations, often in a moment of sacrifice, and rarely have any experience with combat. They might get by on cleverness or dumb luck to start, but eventually the odds will catch up to them before they get enough points to make up for their faults.


    It¡¯s no wonder that so many vanguards don¡¯t actively hunt antithesis, or unlock even a Second-tier catalog.


    --Nymicor, AI for Samurai Bugeyes, 2034


    ***


    Arc 2, Echoes of the Moment


    As I turned back to the storefront, my shoulders slumped. I was torn between a tired wish to be done and a duty to stay until the last. I¡¯d made a promise to stay, and I also wanted to be sure that the aliens stayed contained and didn¡¯t threaten everyone again. Kaitlyn, Tara, and Ginny, along with all the kidnap victims, were out. But it looked like it would take a while to get everyone organized, examined, and shipped out, so I¡¯d have to stay and make sure they were safe until then.


    Anandia, the reporter with whom I¡¯d just completed my first-ever interview, caught up with me and fell in step. ¡°Thank you for the interview. I only had a small time slot available, and your PR manager said you were heading back into the danger zone?¡±


    I didn¡¯t have to look far to find my self-appointed PR manager, and I sent Kaitlyn a slight glare as we walked by. As for the question, I didn¡¯t trust that the interview really was over, so I hid behind the facts. ¡°The hive is being closed now, but there should be a final wave or two coming this way.¡±


    ¡°Are you going to go down and fight them again?¡± As she asked, we walked in through the front door of the store.


    ¡°Nope. I¡¯m feeling particularly lazy right now. I¡¯m going to sit there,¡± I pointed to the bottom of the stairs we had reached, ¡°and let them come to me. Jonnie says they should be trying to make a breakout here soon.¡± I checked that my earplugs were still in place. ¡°You might want some ear protection.¡±


    As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I noticed that the reporter had not followed me down. The turrets sounded off with their annoying polytonic noise at my approach. Now that I had the hearing suppression from my helmet, it was easier to put up with, so I settled on the top step and waited for the Anti¡¯s to arrive.


    ¡°Tara?¡± I subvocalized in the conference channel. ¡°Is the lure drone still working?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Jerry is a couple meters to the left of you.¡±


    ¡°Do you think you can start luring Anti¡¯s over here? I might as well start the cleanup now.¡±


    ¡°Sure. There¡¯s a group down the stairs and about twenty meters away. Expect them in one minute. The large groups that had been following us have found another way here. They should start coming in ten minutes. I don¡¯t know if it would be faster to lure them in or not.¡±


    ¡°So long as they don¡¯t get lost,¡± I replied, then settled on the top step of the lowest flight of stairs right where I could see the floor below. The skeletons of racks and naked mannequins sprawled over piles of rags where before there had been an ocean of cloth and elegantly displayed beauty. All flattened by several waves of aliens. A quick glance over my shoulder showed that Anandia had wandered off, leaving behind a single drone to catch some B-roll of me in battle.


    When the pack of M-3 came, chasing the drone like cats after a laser dot, I slew them in lots. Soon the big waves came, and I concentrated on the larger beasts. I was only here to gather more points and because I had promised to stay. An M-5c gave twice as many points as an M-3, so I concentrated on seeing that those died first, followed by the Fours and Sixes. I¡¯d shoot the occasional M-3, but only if none of the bigger models were in sight.


    If they reached the bottom of the stair, I pulled back and let the turrets soften them up. That made for easy points, but even with my longer reach, the turrets killed more than I did. Before long, the waves of Anti¡¯s died out, and even the drones couldn¡¯t find any.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    When Jonnie Be Good came by, I knew that my duty was finally complete and I could go home. Jonnie was still dressed as elegantly, his silk shirt and pants clean and pressed, as if he¡¯d stepped out to go to a club. He stood beside a shorter person in such heavy armor that I couldn¡¯t decide on their gender, and the short hair and androgynous facial structure didn¡¯t help.


    ¡°The bedraggled hero returns,¡± Jonnie said as I walked up. I looked down and saw what he meant. My clothes were stained with blood, alien guts, and whatever you called the stew that was the result of the flesh-dissolving turrets. Underneath the stains, my pants had enough holes to fit fashion trends older than me, and my shirt wasn¡¯t much better. I truly looked the action hero. ¡°Well, how did you like your first hive?¡±


    I blinked at him, owlishly, for a minute. ¡°Long and tiring. Do I need to report in or something before heading out?¡±


    ¡°No, we don¡¯t have a clock you have to punch out or anything like that. We each do what we think is best, though there are some organizations that try to coordinate our efforts. I¡¯m part of one, and so is TrogNDog here. It¡¯s called the Family.¡±


    ¡°We all want to pitch in and help, but not always in the same way.¡± TrogNDog had a rough voice in the midranges and spoke with a clipped accent. ¡°It¡¯s not like the army where someone says jump, and you get in the air. It¡¯s more like herding cats and hoping that someone¡¯s hungry today. The Family¡¯s less influential here than in other places since we have fewer people. The real coordinator here is Didir. She¡¯s independent but fair, as far as I know. We¡¯ll get you her contact info.¡±


    ¡°For now, you should head home. You do look done in.¡± Jonnie said. ¡°I¡¯m just handing off to TrogNDog, and I¡¯ll be going too. Though if you want to fill them in about the cult¡¯s hideout, that might help.¡±


    I told them what I could and even managed to send them maps that Corie had made somehow. I had a vague plan of getting in my car and going home as I stumbled out of the building. About halfway there, the spider drone found me and climbed aboard again. I watched it climb for a second before I remembered that I still had drones to collect.


    Sometime in the last hour, the conference call had ended, so I called Tara directly. ¡°Hello.¡±


    ¡°How many drones are left, and where are they?¡±


    ¡°We lost two near the end of the retreat and the one in the cult area. So I have 10 drones. All but two are pulled out and with me. Those last drones are Jerry, who will be here in thirty seconds, and the SpyEye that¡¯s sitting on you. I have one set to watch over us. They all need charging.¡±


    While she spoke, I found where my car had been towed to the side of the road, but no farther. It was undrivable and likely totaled. Even if deploying the airbags hadn¡¯t disabled the ignition, the impact had crumpled the front end and twisted it sideways. I excused myself from the call with Tara, promising we¡¯d figure out something soon, and stared at the remains of my car numbly.


    --I¡¯ve filed an insurance claim for you, but the AI is denying the claim. It won¡¯t say why.


    <That figures. Insurance is not gonna anyone if they can help it.>


    --Oooh, now I see why. There¡¯s a nearly hidden clause in the contract. If the vehicle is damaged ¡°in the aid of a Samurai,¡± the insurance payout is multiplied by ten. That¡¯s probably the work of some Vanguard or another. And now it starts to make sense. The insurance company set the AI to automatically reject any claims that would invoke that clause. Let¡¯s deal with that, shall we? And a leak to the media would be good¡­ meheheah.


    <Was that an evil laugh? I thought the AIs weren''t able to be evil?>


    --You have us amoral AIs mixed up with you noble Vanguards. We AIs are tasked with ensuring the Vanguards are not evil, for a given definition. Nothing says we AI can¡¯t use evil means to ensure that end.


    Ginny walked up to me. ¡°Did you have a way home?¡±


    ¡°Well, I was going to take my car, but¡­¡± I gestured at the pile of scrap. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll take the bus.¡±


    ¡°Kaitlyn and I have a rideshare on the way. I invited Tara to stay with me; I don¡¯t know if she has a place of her own. Trimet would never allow her on with the drones. It¡¯s upsized, so there should be space for you too if you want?¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯d like that.¡± By some miracle, and despite the passenger windows being blown out and the trunk open, most of my things were still there. I gathered my gym bag, ear protection, and a box of spare ammo. The only item missing was my old daily wear glasses.


    I thought about them for a bit, self-consciously aware of how bad the upgraded glasses looked. In the end, I felt that the increased data throughput was worth it for now since I could hide inside my helmet¡¯s visor, but I vowed to myself to change them at the first chance. I emptied out the glovebox into the bag, and we walked over to where Kaitlyn and Tara waited with a large suitcase between them.


    ¡°What are you going to do with your car?¡± Ginny asked.


    ¡°I know a guy who¡¯s a mechanic at Kenson¡¯s Fine Rides, but I¡¯m not sure if he can fix it. I¡¯ll have someone tow it there tomorrow so he can look at it.¡±


    The thought of not seeing any of the trio again hit me hard, forming a hollowness in my stomach. I was glad for any excuse to stay with them longer. Somewhere down in the pits of that building, I¡¯d gotten attached to them, and I looked for any reason to continue the relationship. At the minimum, I wanted to be sure they landed on their feet, but maybe we could stay in touch beyond that. I wondered if Ginny¡¯s invitation to their rideshare was her way of also delaying the goodbyes.


    While we waited, I exchanged contact info with them, for once having a use for the social media part of the ritual. I also sent a quick text to Barry, my manager from work, letting him know that I was fine, on my way home, and that I¡¯d talk with him the next day.

 Arc 2, Chapter 2 -- Change of Plan

    From 2030 to 2055, with each half-decade the number of people willing to engage in aggressive acts against people and organizations committing ecological damage has nearly doubled. The cost to companies for eco-assaults, including physical damages, cleanups, and reputational impact, is estimated to be a staggering 1.46 trillion credits, for 2057.


    No company can afford to fall under the eco-terrorist¡¯s eyes, no matter what country or continent you are on. Green-eyes Consulting will help your company stay under the radar and safe from attack. We offer a comprehensive suite of services ranging from image enhancement to clean practices, from security awareness to waste containment. We¡¯ll show you the best way to handle all your ecological problems in the most economical way.


    Call today for your free initial consultation.


    --Ad for Green-eyes Consulting, LLC.


    ***


    When the large autonomous hovervan arrived, we piled in. I ended up in the middle next to Ginny, with Tara in the back and Kaitlyn in the front row turned to face us. The hovercar took off and started gaining altitude. Ginny turned to me. ¡°Where do you want us to take you?¡±


    ¡°Drop me off at the Portera16 M-Com in Wilsonville, Northeast parking.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the same building we live in.¡± She peered at me, at first suspiciously, then her eyes grew large, and she bounced in excitement. ¡°I knew you looked familiar! You¡¯re Number 6 Gunsmoke!¡± My confusion must have shown on my face because she continued. ¡°We¡¯ve ridden the same elevator! I just never recognized you out of context. One of my friends noticed that you always go to the sixth floor, and you often smell like gun smoke. Since she didn¡¯t know your name, that¡¯s what she calls you.¡±


    ¡°Are you talking about Vera?¡± Kaitlyn asked. ¡°She spotted him early on in the chat. I thought she¡¯d texted you about it. I had to DM her to keep her from spouting it out. I wasn¡¯t sure how Marcus would feel about having people know where he lives.¡±


    Ginny settled down, her excitement having run its course. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about getting all excited like that. I was worried that I¡¯d never see you again. I mean, Kaitlyn¡¯s going to be your social media rep, and Tara¡¯s got the drone thing. I wasn¡¯t as much help down there as the others, and I just wanted some way to connect to you. It¡¯s not like I did much¡­¡±


    ¡°Ginny, stop.¡± I interrupted her gently but firmly, looking her square in the eye. ¡°You were great down there, and I don¡¯t think we could have saved so many without you. You kept everyone on task and moving. What you did with the supply room and the other fort was amazing. With a capital ¡®A.¡¯


    ¡°Your ability to keep everyone and everything organized made all the difference. I know that; Kaitlyn knows it. Tara too.¡± I looked at the other two, who were nodding. Tara climbed out of her seat to grab Ginny in a hug.


    ¡°You all have become important to me, so if you need anything, let me know. I can¡¯t promise I can help, but at least I can lend an ear and advice. And I think I¡¯ll be calling on you in the future. Corie suggested that I build up a support team, of which you would be part. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m ready for employees yet. But if I need help, I do know who to go to. I hope you know you can count on me too.¡±


    ¡°I was already looking at a marketing degree.¡± Kaitlyn said. ¡°And it was clear when I started it that I¡¯d be running your social presence for a while. A Samurai-level social presence is no place for an amateur''s fumbling. Managing your image won¡¯t interfere with schooling, and I can probably leverage the experience for some papers and school projects.¡±


    Ginny still looked unsure. ¡°Do you really think I made a difference?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely,¡± I replied. ¡°Most of the time I only started things rolling or provided big-picture ideas. You are the one that made them real and kept people moving. You have no idea how relieved I was that I could leave that to you and concentrate on keeping people alive. Without your work, I¡¯d probably have been dealing with some old lady and her wheelchair when the Anti¡¯s hit us and gobbled up half the evacuees.¡±


    Kaitlyn jumped in. ¡°You did say you wanted to combine being a personal assistant with project management.¡±


    Ginny bit her lip, and her eyes flicked back and forth as she argued with herself before taking a deep breath and straightening in her seat. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll start by dealing with your car; get it to the repair shop and get estimates.¡±Stolen story; please report.


    Tara released Ginny and returned to her seat. ¡°You need more drones if you are going to cover that large a building. And Corie suggested some online classes. We¡¯re arguing over which ones.¡±


    We settled into a comfortable silence, though from their exchanged glances, I guessed that Kaitlyn and Ginny had some discussion going on in chat. The ride should take forty minutes, according to the car¡¯s display. Since I had time, I checked my text messages.


    Other than the spam messages, mostly from the store that I¡¯d been fighting in, I had a string of messages from my sister. They started with her usual checking-in posts and changed when she found I was fighting the Anti¡¯s. The last one simply asked me to let her know when I was free. I sent one back to her:


    Me: I¡¯m out and on the way home. Safe and all. Tired.


    With that little chore out of the way, I relaxed into the seat and closed my eyes. It was time for a long-delayed chat with my AI.


    <Thank you for getting me through all that. We have a lot to talk about, don¡¯t we?>


    --Yes, we do. Now that you¡¯re safe, there¡¯s so much that I want to say.


    <We need to look at gear and talk about upgrades. I didn¡¯t want to get into it before because we were doing fine, and you don¡¯t change a car¡¯s tires while it is still going down the highway. How many points am I looking at?>


    --You currently have 7,581 points. But before we talk about spending them, there is something else that we need to discuss. Something you need to understand about yourself and how that will affect your purchases.


    <This is heading back to those first remarks, isn¡¯t it? About the alien DNA and why you were having trouble linking up with me?>


    --Yes. It hasn¡¯t mattered until now, but it could affect how you use your points going forward. From the scans, whoever your ancestor may be, they were using genetic upgrades. Somehow, those got passed down to you incompletely. Normally, that wouldn¡¯t be bad; everyone has lots of DNA that isn¡¯t active. However, something partially activated it, which was blocking the linking devices. To get our link working, I had to finish activating the DNA. That¡¯s what Jonnie Be Good did.


    --Actually, it¡¯s a good thing we did that. Otherwise the DNA would have killed you in a few years.


    <Wait, what? I was dying?>


    --The DNA in question replaced several neurotransmitters and regulators. Some, maybe most of it works fine, but some isn¡¯t. In the end, the partial activation was generating a couple of flawed transmitters without adjusting the human equivalents. That would lead to continual deterioration of your nervous system. It probably wasn¡¯t noticeable yet, but eventually, your natural ability to create human neurotransmitters would be inhibited, resulting in death.


    I thought about my mother. She had been blind since an attempt to install augs burned out her optic nerve. After seeing the repairs that the Samurai tech had done on myself and the little girl¡¯s leg, I hoped that I might restore her sight. With a leap of insight, I now wondered whether Mom¡¯s blindness came from the same DNA.


    <What would cause the DNA to become active?>


    --Lots of environmental factors could do it, especially when combined with close contact with another person with the DNA.


    Corie¡¯s words hit me like a blow to the chest. My mother had been pregnant with me when she lost her vision. In the back of my mind, I¡¯d always feared that I had caused her blindness. My parents denied it, the few times I asked, but sometimes, in the dark hours of the night, whispers of doubt kept me awake. And now that I had proof, there was not much to hold off the guilt.


    I bleakly stared out the window as the city lights slid by for a few minutes before another thought came to the forefront of my mind, driving a cold shiver of fear down my spine. If the DNA was doing that to me, could it be doing the same or worse to my mother?


    I turned to the autopilot and almost requested that we change destination but stopped myself at the last minute. I couldn¡¯t leave Ginny and the others stranded at the base my parents lived at. It would raise too many questions and could get them in trouble.


    Mom had lived with the alien DNA for longer than I had. I could only trust that she¡¯d survive a few more minutes without a cure. Instead, I found the rideshare app that had been imported from my tablet. When it loaded, I couldn¡¯t figure out how to side swipe to pick up the proper menu at first, but eventually I scheduled another rideshare from my apartment to my parent¡¯s place, to be taken once I arrived. I settled back in my seat and fought to control the impatient bouncing of my knee.


    <That DNA, could it be reversed? Or removed?>


    --It¡¯s been a part of you for a long time and shaped you in a number of subtle ways. It¡¯s a big part of what makes you the person you are. Removing it would be bad and might make you into a different person.


    <But what you did to me stabilized me, right? So the DNA won¡¯t kill me now?>


    --Yes, you will live a full and healthy lifespan. At least as healthy as any active Vanguard can be. I don¡¯t understand your resistance? Your profile indicates that you¡¯re quick to use any advantage you can. Even to the point of nearly getting kicked out of games for it. I thought you were tired; why are you going to your parents place all of a sudden?

 Arc 2, Chapter 3 -- Bureaucratic nonsense

    ¡­and so you had several countries flush with an excess of soldiers after their independence movements. Soldiers that needed a new profession, but that the countries were, properly, wary of releasing on the unprepared populace.


    At the same time, a number of larger corporations and smaller municipalities started to become more concerned over their security, and the observant countries saw a convenient solution.


    Instead of instituting any kind of disarmament or retraining programs, they foisted their soldiers off on the PMCs, who had abundant clients but a shortage of trained personnel. And thus a market boom was created.


    The most successful of the countries continued to support their PMCs through subsidies for training, equipment, and materiel, leading to a local surplus that could be marketed worldwide. This lead to a shift in the meaning of the term PMC from Private Military Company to Private Mercenary Company.


    --Introduction to ¡°So you want to be a Merc¡±, the best selling non-fiction in 2053.


    ***


    I realized that Corie didn¡¯t know I was thinking about Mom.


    <I¡¯m pretty sure that my mother is where I got the alien DNA from. Her mother has stories about a romance with one of the original Samurai named Bugeyes. I¡¯m worried that she has the same silent killer lurking in her veins. I want to check and heal her if we can.>


    Corie was silent for a minute or two.


    --That makes a lot more sense. I was afraid that you were going to reject all the benefits you already enjoy from your special DNA. We might be able to help her. It will depend on how many points you want to spend and on how far gone she is.


    I sent a new text to my sister, who replied back right away:


    Me: Change of plans. Going to Mom and Dad¡¯s


    Jane: Are you going to¡­?


    M: Will try. You should be there.


    J: Absolutely. On my way!


    <Okay, any decisions on spending points will need to wait until we can see what that costs.>


    --Fair enough. Now, getting back to the original topic, the Valerian DNA will limit your options to some degree, but it also opens up some other opportunities.


    <Before we dive into that, what was it you said about the advantages I already have?>


    --The affected genes govern cognitive neurotransmitters to enhance their speed of action. Compared to the human norm, you should be better at handling multiple tasks at a time, have faster reaction times, be functionally ambidextrous, and you are probably faster at reaching decisions. One other side effect is that you don¡¯t need as much sleep. I¡¯ve seen some aspects of that all day, but the influence has been subtle.


    I thought back on both the day and my life, and I could see what she meant. In the computer games I played, I ranked well into the upper levels, despite the disadvantages of being a naught. I¡¯d always passed that off as an effect of being better at customizing the user interfaces. But that only explained part of my talent. I could track timers and spawn times to a picosecond. I¡¯d even had a moderator accuse me of using a banned hack; my timing was so perfect that I¡¯d triggered several bot alerts.


    As for not sleeping much, my mother and I shared that trait. I could do well with only a couple hours a night, and skipping sleep for days was easy. I did get ¡°tired¡± in a mental way when I spent too long on one task or situation. But a change of task and environment would recharge me enough for hours on the new task. Even now, while I¡¯d been tired back when I came out of the department store, the change of setting and activity had me awake and ready to keep going for hours. An awakeness heightened by my worries over Mom, leaving me nearly vibrating with energy.


    <And that hasn¡¯t changed with the activation of my DNA?>


    --If anything, it was magnified. But it would be hard to spot when combined with the SymTech Gland¡¯s enhancements. The two work together to create an effect that is greater than either alone. That¡¯s one of the advantages of the Valerian SymSynTech. It is easier to achieve and maintain true synergy as you grow. Because it grows naturally over time, it adapts better to both your body and how it is used.


    <Is that part of what you wanted to tell me about the purchases?>


    --In part, but also there¡¯s decisions to be made about the approach to upgrades you want to take. There are four main ways to upgrade, and which you choose will affect the costs to get started on your upgrades.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    <Four approaches, and you think I should take one of them?>


    --You would have to backtrack to take most of the other approaches or end up with some compatibility losses. Whether that is worth it or not is up to you. If I may explain the approaches?


    <Go ahead. I bet two of those approaches are full mechanical cybernetics and the genetic stuff my ancestor used?>


    --Yes and no. The most common method of upgrade on Earth is inorganic cybernetics. That¡¯s the metal limbs, silicon computer implants, and the like. The ultimate form for these is the brain-in-a-box, whether the box is a tank, a remote fortress, or a suit of powered armor.


    --The second most common is bionic. That preserves the human shape and esthetic by concentrating on synthetic internal upgrades. The organs and tissues are replaced with inorganic substitutes.


    --Most of Earth¡¯s Vanguards use a mix of cybernetics and bionics. It is generally less expensive up front and feels more comfortable to the Vanguard because it fits with most of humanity¡¯s tech base.


    --The next most common form is genetic manipulation. That would be a full or partial organic rebuild from the DNA up. As the Vanguard¡¯s needs change, or to upgrade, they manipulate their genes to enable different forms.


    --It¡¯s important to note that none of these methods are stronger than the others, they just have different strengths and weaknesses.


    --Take repairing damage, for example. With cybernetics, if your arm gets mangled, you need a machine shop, or it may flat out be cheaper to replace it. For a genetic patchup, you wait, and over time it will heal or grow a new limb, maybe supported with some medicines. Bionics, however, you probably need a mix, which means something like a nanite treatment.


    --All the methods can return you back to how you were, but the cost is different. For cybernetics, you basically buy a full replacement or an upgrade if you can afford it. For genetics, you pay in time to regenerate and some nutrients. For bionics, it¡¯s a point cost for the nanites, but also time for the rebuild. Same, but different. That applies to the final type too.


    The rideshare beeped a warning of its approach to the destination.


    Growth rates for all of Cascadia were high, fed by a constant stream of Californians fleeing the increasing temperatures and fire hazards. Just as Seattle had consumed its little brother Tacoma and all in between, Portland had first reached across the Columbia to claim Vancouver, Washington, then turned south to swallow Salem and everything in between.


    A host of mixed housing and commercial complexes had been built. Called an M-Com, these colossal buildings stood four or five full blocks to a side and dominated any skyline. Many topped twenty stories and all held thousands of apartments. I, and apparently the others, lived in one of the shorter buildings, which only stood 10 living stories tall, with an extra two levels for parking.


    We pulled into the parking garage, and the rideshare helpfully stopped next to the guarded entrance. ¡°Please exit the vehicle and remove all belongings,¡± the synthetic voice of the autopilot filled the cabin.


    Ginny, Kaitlyn, and Tara offloaded, and I selected the car to start the next trip. ¡°All passengers and their belongings must exit the vehicle before the ride will end,¡± it repeated.


    ¡°Oh, for the love of a bureaucrat,¡± I cussed. Apparently it wouldn¡¯t admit that it was destined to take me on to the next stop until I¡¯d left the vehicle.


    I climbed out, and we unloaded all the drones, ammo, and weapons out of the trunk. Once we were all off and unloaded, the vehicle closed up its doors and drove off. Confused, I checked the app and saw that the ride to my parents was still on the way. For some reason, despite having one right here, the AI assigned me a new vehicle for the new ride.


    In the meantime, Ginny and the others had run into some issues with the security guard at the entrance. As I walked up, I heard Kaitlyn ask, ¡°What do you mean we can¡¯t go in? We live here!¡±


    ¡°Your renter¡¯s license doesn¡¯t permit firearms. You¡¯ll have to dispose of them first,¡± the guard explained.


    She was likely correct. While smaller and older, the M-Com was popular due to having an effective security team and a solid safety record. The management claimed that controlling who had access to weapons improved the security.


    They couldn¡¯t deny you ownership of a weapon; that was constitutionally guaranteed. But they limited who had easy access to their weapon by requiring an expensive permit or forcing you to store your weapons with Security. Left with a bad choice between yet another fee and risking your gear being lost or damaged, many chose not to exercise their right to protection.


    The restriction helped in that it kept the honest folk¡¯s weapons controlled. But lots of ways to slip weapons in remained. At least it showed that the residents cared. For my money, how the community treated anyone that broke the restriction was more effective than any patrol officer. I doubted that Kaitlyn and Ginny knew of the limitation, much less wanted to pay for the privilege.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay, Bobbie. They¡¯re holding them for me while I run an errand.¡± I traded for my permit with regular training sessions for the security team. I¡¯d become quite friendly with them, and most of them knew me by name.


    The guard turned to me. ¡°Hey Marcus, didn¡¯t see you there. Were you out doing field training today?¡±


    ¡°Something like that, and these three were along too. Can you at least hold onto the gear until I come back? I have to do a scoot and don¡¯t have time to take them up myself.¡±


    ¡°I guess I can do that. That will be 5 rifles and a pistol? Holy shit, Marcus, were you training an army or something?¡± She gestured to my shirt and pants, which were still covered in human and alien blood and torn nearly to shreds.


    I smiled slightly. ¡°Something like that. It was good training, after all.¡±


    She shook her head a little. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll see that these are held for you. Might have to take them to central at the end of my shift, though.¡±


    One of the Chibats flew in and flared into a landing on the pile of equipment. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure they don¡¯t walk off.¡± Tara said. She glared at the guard, all but accusing her of not being trustworthy.


    ¡°You¡¯re not going home?¡± Ginny asked.


    ¡°Halfway here I realized I should go see my parents. It shouldn¡¯t take too long, I hope.¡±

 Arc 2, Chapter 4 -- Verifications

    The people have spoken. National Directive 13233 to issue sanctions against the governing companies of Calgary has passed with 6.4M RIS points. The supporting representatives now have the task of implementing the directive.


    Last month, several parties out of the Rockies Alliance declared war on the companies that rule Calgary, and fighting broke out inside the city walls. In the end, the four companies, Helmar Electronics, Telnet Aerospace, Alliance Bio Tech Systems, and Great Northern Info Systems, were replaced by unknown forces. See more about the conflict in this link.


    In response, National Directive 13233 was proposed by several representatives, who have collected sufficient RIS points from citizens. The popularity of the directive is no doubt fueled by outrage against the actions of the ruling council. Numerous reports have shown that the council chose to trigger descension protocols on one or more hex-platforms in the city without any warning or evacuation efforts ahead of time.


    Sanctions will include cutting off the purchase of ore shipments from Calgary as a whole along with direct disciplinary action against the ruling companies.


    A related but seemingly opposite National Directive (number 13234) to send aid to citizens displaced and disrupted by the conflict is still collecting points but should pass soon. Once it does, representatives of the two Directives will need to reconcile the two efforts, which likely will result in funds that were purchasing goods from the country being switched to humanitarian aid.


    --Cascadia news release, May 2057


    ***


    With that bureaucratic hurdle cleared, the team entered the building just in time for my new rideshare to arrive. The interruption, while annoying, reminded me that I should clean up before seeing my parents. Once the ride took flight, I sent a text to my sister, letting her know of my ETA. From her reply, she was going to arrive ten minutes after me.


    <I feel like we¡¯ll be having this conversation in pieces. To sumarize, you¡¯ve mentioned three upgrade methods so far, two inorganic and one biological.>


    --No problem. Like I said, each upgrade method has its own unique advantages and limits. Genetic modification has better upkeep and repair: cuts heal, bruises fade. The upgrade paths are more continuous since you can continue to modify it as you go. But it¡¯s not so good with micro-adjustments, especially temporary ones. For example, if you want to upload a new app to a bio-aug, you are basically teaching the aug a new way to think, which takes time and repetition for a permanent change, or you risk issues akin to memory loss.


    --Cyberware, on the other hand, gets locked into a form until you can replace it. It¡¯s often faster and easier to replace a damaged cyberarm than to repair it. And upgrades are almost always full replacements. Where it excels is in software and data management, since the bits are all inherently changeable.


    --Another area where cyber excels is with external systems like probes and data sharing. Cyber and digital systems are vastly better at throughput than most biological systems just due to the speed of transmission. And drones or bots are usually faster to mass produce.


    --Particularly on Earth, it is uncommon to have a biologically based horde of small, long-range drones. No one wants to turn themselves into a puppy farm for disposable companions. But a drone you can send into harm¡¯s way without any questions of conscience.


    <So we have a system of trade-offs, and I¡¯m guessing that while the two do interact, that too involves some give and take.>


    --Exactly. That brings us to the last system, which is what the Valerians did. They looked at the benefits and costs of both cybernetics and genetics and tried to balance them by making what amounts to a modular biological upgrade system that also is highly cyber compatible.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    --They created ways to adapt a person to accept and support a greater range of biology, then attached other life forms for those upgrades, which are best handled biologically. They also perfected a bio-cyber interface that worked well with both systems. That is the Valerian SymTech Gland, which is part carbon-based biological and part silicon-based cybernetics.


    <And I¡¯m guessing there are more of those trade-offs?>


    --Yes. The Valerian gear is slightly weaker to start but costs the same points as cyber gear. So it¡¯s more expensive than genetic upgrades, which are discounted because they¡¯re grown over time. And there is a startup cost from two core upgrades that are mandatory. One of which is the SymTech Gland.


    --For that increased cost, you get several core advantages: the inherent repair of biological upgrades and better use and integration with cybernetic-based gear. But the one big advantage of the Valerian method is growth. Any symbiotic upgrades you buy will grow over time, becoming more effective. You may not need to replace some upgrades ever. Keep feeding the symbiont, and it will get bigger or better until it reaches Class III or beyond. Or, like any life form, if you feed it more, it will grow faster.


    We were interrupted by a request for authentication from the base my parents lived on. While my father, as an officer, could arrange for off-base housing, he preferred the security of on-base for my mother. I submitted my visitor badge, and the car dropped me off at the front desk.


    ¡°Hey, Amanda. Can you request an arms authorization for me? I¡¯ve a new kit and would rather not have to check it in.¡±


    ¡°Sure, give me a minute.¡± She eyed me up and down, taking in the swords over my shoulders, the new pistol grips, and the multiple layers of blood and Anti¡¯s remains. ¡°Did you get sucked into that incursion downtown today?¡±


    ¡°Thanks. I spent the day hip-deep in antithesis, and it shows. While you are working on that permit, can I use the washroom?¡±


    She waved me off, already submitting the paperwork.


    In the washroom, I quickly tried to wash the blood, both alien and my own, off my clothing before realizing that it was a lost cause.


    <Can I get some basic street clothes? Something in the same style and color?>


    --Sure, I was starting to wonder if you wanted to shock your parents with your appearance.


    "Purchased: Class 0 Street clothes


    Cost: 2 Remaining points: 7,579¡±


    I put on the fresh jeans and shirt and gathered my other gear into a bundle. That might help put the security team at ease. The Roomsweeper, however, I did keep slung over my shoulder¡­ there wasn¡¯t any other convenient way to carry it safely.


    Amanda had the e-forms ready when I came back out. I filled in all the usual bureaucratic data collection until, about halfway through, it asked for occupation. I hesitated a moment, having selected Arms Instructor by habit, then switched it to Samurai. Instantly the form closed out, and displayed a completion notice.


    <Did I do that?>


    --Kind of. Most government agencies have an ¡°I¡¯m a Vanguard¡± mode that bypasses all the red tape. But you usually only see it on tax forms since no one else is foolish enough to try to have a Vanguard fill out a form.


    I handed the tablet back to Amanda, who did some sync work and then looked uncomfortably at me. ¡°Umm, I¡¯ll need some proof that you are a Samurai, since you weren¡¯t one last time you were here.¡±


    I thought about it, then laid out both pistols on the counter, with safeties on. Beside them I set the Roomsweeper and my helmet. All of them were clearly Samurai gear, with the detail and craftsmanship to match. After eyeing the weapons where they lay next to the remaining bundle of stained and torn clothing, she looked me up and down, then she glanced at the door to the tiny closet of a washroom, then back to the stained clothes.


    Amanda suddenly sat at attention. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir. I didn¡¯t realize you had been chosen,¡± she said. She hit a couple of keys, and the elevator dinged its unlock. I collected my gear, a little bemused by her reaction, then entered for the ride up to my parent¡¯s floor.


    At my parent¡¯s door, I hesitated, so overcome with a mix of nervousness, worry, and excitement that I didn¡¯t know how to process it. This was something that we all had wanted for my whole life. Growing up, we¡¯d never talked about Mom¡¯s blindness by unspoken rule. But from looks and references, I could tell that we all desperately wished we could heal her.


    Now, at the cusp of making that dream a reality, I was hammered with questions. What if she didn¡¯t actually want to see again? What if the damage was unrepairable? What if I was about to find out my mother was going to die? The uncertainty gripped me, leaving me stuck out in the hall.

 Arc 2, Chapter 5 -- Family Matters

    "Back in the early 30''s a couple corporations got it in their mind to try to get ahead of things by reverse engineering the chip that let''s Samurai talk to their AIs.


    The corporations learned four things:


    1) The chips are insanely fine and complex to the point that any attempt to reverse-engineer it would be Impossible. (Yes, with a capital ¡°I¡±)


    2) Samurai are really hard to kill.


    3) Corporations are not, nor are CEOs and Shareholders.


    4) A warpath of Samurai is F¡¯n scary.


    Every now and then, some corporation forgets those lessons. Looks like it''s time to remind them."


    --Thandbar interview 2043 just before the market collapse of 2043, which was caused by the instant total dissolution of 6 of the top 500 Mega corporations.


    ***


    My presence must have set off the automatic door alarm, because my father opened the door without my knocking. ¡°You know you can just come on in, right?¡± He had a gentle smile and an arm already outstretched for a hug.


    Shorter than I, we shared the same dark hair and eyes that people frequently called hawk-like. I¡¯d always been told that people were afraid of him, mostly by kids of people under his command. But I¡¯d always been able to see the kindness beneath the steel, even when I was the target of his fierce gaze or biting wit.


    I clung to my dad, taking reassurance in his strength and kindness. ¡°It¡¯s been a hard day, and it all just hit me.¡± I answered him, not quite deflecting the question.


    We released each other, and Dad showed me in. ¡°Want to talk about it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but we should see Mom first. I¡¯ve got a surprise for her. One that you will want to be there for.¡±


    He raised an eyebrow at me before gesturing to lead on.


    We passed by the small modern kitchen and through a living room decorated in an open postmodern style. The floors were uncluttered with wide paths, and I remembered Dad yelling at me for leaving things lying around where it could be a tripping hazard. He still had the same firm but quiet voice he¡¯d used to discipline a pair of unruly children, though it was more often aimed at his fellow officers these days.


    We found Mom in her working lounge, seated in her favorite chair. She counseled people online, providing a supportive ear to talk to while dealing with their problems. Many of her clients felt more comfortable with seeing her even if she couldn¡¯t return the favor, so she¡¯d had her office decor designed for comfort. The soft couches and easy chairs combined with the simple decor were designed to put people at ease.


    As we entered, she was just taking off her earrings. They provided location information for the cameras and microphones in the room, ensuring clear sight lines and good camera angles. Removing them signaled that not only had she finished the call but her workday too.


    ¡°Hey Mom,¡± I announced as I entered, as we always did. She looked tired, or maybe down. ¡°Tough client?¡±


    She smiled and turned to my voice, with her head cocked to the side as she often did. ¡°Sometimes people forget that healing takes time, and it¡¯s hard to convince them to trust in the process.¡± She sighed and ran a long-fingered hand through her pixie cut, dirty blonde hair. ¡°We live in an age of medical miracles that happen overnight, but the mind and emotions are not so easily healed. But enough about me, how was your day?¡± She held out her arms for a hug, and I knelt into her comforting embrace.


    <How do we do this? Is my being here enough, or do you need something more?>


    --I¡¯ll need a medical scanner. You can get it as a hand tool or on a drone. Either will do well.


    I half smiled, fully aware of the irony in what I had planned. We broke our hug, and I sat back on the footstool before her and took her hand in mine. ¡°I met a couple of new friends today. One is very smart and has some interesting ideas. From them I learned something about myself medically, and it had me worried about you. Apparently it¡¯s inherited. They lent me a way to scan you and make sure you¡¯re safe, if that is okay?¡±


    As I looked at Dad, I¡¯m sure my eyes twinkled. With a raised finger to my lips, I warned him.


    <Let¡¯s go with the drone. You can use it to scan the others afterward. With the box, please. Try not to make any noise.>


    "Purchased: Shoban MedGen Scanner Drone.


    Cost: 200 Remaining points: 7,379¡±


    A midsized box appeared silently on the floor. The lid had a seven-sided design on it, forming a slight dome. I lifted the lid, and a drone crawled out. The upright cylindrical body had 4 legs under three arms, all spaced evenly around its body.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Dad jammed his fist into his mouth as his eyes flicked between the box, the drone, and me. He raised an eyebrow at me, and I nodded slightly. His eyes filled with surprise, hope, and longing as he stepped up behind me. ¡°I think you should let him, Sally. This drone looks different from most.¡± He encouraged my mom without a hint of excitement reaching his voice, but his hands gripped my shoulders tight, transferring his trembling excitement to me.


    ¡°What¡¯s involved in the scan?¡± she asked, her brow furrowed in concern.


    --The drone¡¯s going to crawl over her, it won¡¯t hurt. I¡¯ll know most of what I need in a few minutes. It will touch her skin, though.


    ¡°A bot will just crawl over you and probably have to put some items against your skin. It may feel a little creepy, but it should be quick. This is some top-of-the-line stuff they¡¯ve provided.¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s going to find anything that Dr. Sievent missed, it better be good,¡± her flippant reply was timed with a wave of her hand. ¡°But if it will put your mind at rest, then they can do it.¡±


    ¡°Thanks. Here it is coming now¡­ I¡¯ll hold your hand throughout.¡± The drone climbed up on her lap and reached up higher to her neck and face. It probed a number of places, working down from forehead to waist. A couple of minutes later, the scan was complete, and the little bot moved off to the side.


    --Good news! Your mother is not in as much danger as you were. Her genes activated differently from yours, and they¡¯re not going down the same path yours did. There¡¯s some bad effects, though, and they should be addressed sooner. In particular, she is not as resilient against the effects of sleep deprivation compared to you. And I suspect she is having full bouts of insomnia more often.


    <That¡¯s not good. As I recall, a lack of sleep can result in some serious side effects. But it¡¯s treatable, right? And what about her blindness?>


    I¡¯d spent some time in my teen years worried about the fact that I could get by with very little sleep compared to others and studied up on it. And I still monitored myself carefully for any signs of the negative side effects.


    --Yes, both can be treated. The blindness is easy; a simple nanite dose and she¡¯ll be able to see in a few minutes, no retraining needed. The gene therapy would take more work and definitely should not be delayed long. There are decisions that you two need to make. You need to choose the means of doing the changes. And your mother needs to choose whether to complete the activation or to remove the DNA.


    My sister, Jane, quietly joined us, having let herself in. ¡°Hey, Mom,¡± she said to let Mom know she was there, then leaned over the chair and gave Mom a gentle kiss on the cheek. Standing up, Jane, ever the impatient one, stared at me under raised brows. One hand twirled nervously with a strand of her blonde hair, and the other hand rested steadily on Mom¡¯s shoulder. Nineteen years of experience had taught both of us many tricks to hiding our emotions and deceptions from our mother, like diverting nervous energy away from any part touching Mom.


    ¡°Mom,¡± I started hesitatingly, ¡°the scan showed two things. I¡¯m going to address the second, so you know that my friend and I are serious about the first. Before I do that, I have to break a family taboo. We never talk about this, but I have to ask: if we found a way to get your sight back, would you want it?¡±


    Mom¡¯s eyebrows shot up for a moment in surprise as I spoke, then she scowled before answering. ¡°Don¡¯t tease your mother that way,¡± she spoke with a deep bitterness I¡¯d never heard from her before, and I closed my eyes to fight off tears as she continued. ¡°We tried and tried when you were little. And with each failure or rejection, I felt a bit of me die. A bit of hope crumpled until one day I heard how it hurt you two little ones. Jane¡¯s innocent question, asked while I was out of the room, broke me." She paused, taking several deep breaths before continuing. "That¡¯s when I stopped. It just hurt too much, and I refused, refuse still, to let this make me a bitter woman.¡±


    I wished I could hug her and squeeze the pain away. Instead, I clung to the thought that she would see again soon if she just had the courage to try one more time. I grabbed her hand and squeezed tight, willing it to give her the strength to try.


    Dad shifted uncomfortably behind me. ¡°Love, as you said, we live in a time of miracles.¡± He spoke softly, almost pleading with her. ¡±We only needed access to a miracle worker.¡± His hands, already tight, clenched my shoulders painfully, and I winced silently.


    ¡°Are you talking Samurai tech? Where did you meet a Samurai?¡± Disbelief tainted Mom¡¯s tone as she emphasized the last word, knowing how rare they were.


    ¡°I said I¡¯ve made some new friends, and we¡¯ve become quite close. It¡¯s been a long day.¡± I half-smiled and winked at Jane. Over her shoulder, my sister¡¯s eyes danced in a war between humor, excitement, and hope. She literally bit her lip to hold back her laughter. ¡°So, if Merlin popped out of a dimensional hole and offered to heal you,¡± I had to pause and swallow down a spike of nervous fear that she¡¯d reject me, ¡°would you take it?¡±


    She paused, finally taking my question seriously. Her hand started to tremble in mine, clenching and pulling, as if physically grabbing at a lost hope. When she spoke again, her voice was fragile and thin, barely a whisper: ¡°I don¡¯t dare ask for it, but if it was offered, I would never say no.¡±


    I gently laid her hand out flat, mine pressed underneath hers. "Mama. I need you to trust me. Can you do that for me?" I whispered. She nodded, too scared to talk, too afraid her voice would break the spell. ¡°Corie, with a box, please?¡±


    A small box dropped into my mother¡¯s hand, and hope filled her expression as she explored the box, hands still trembling. She ran them over the domed top with its seven-sided design, then fumbled at the lid. When it opened, she fumbled at the inside until seizing the inhaler. She spun it round and round, unable to right it in her excitement. I gently helped her right it in her hand and said, ¡°Put it up to your mouth, squeeze, and inhale. It may feel weird for a bit.¡±


    Mom, with my help, consumed the nanite healing compound and squeezed her eyes tight. My sister came around and knelt in front of the chair and took our mother¡¯s other hand. Jane tilted her head, then tapped her temple. I shot back a look of both horror and thanks as I yanked the ugly data glasses off my face and stuffed them into a pocket.


    Dad¡¯s hands abandoned me as he shifted to Mom and grasped her in a tight hug from behind. Tears streamed down his face as he whispered, ¡°Thank you,¡± in her ear and pecked her on the cheek. Mom leaned into him and clung to Jane''s and my hands for several minutes. She twitched a couple of times at the odd healing sensations, then sighed and relaxed.


    Finally Mom opened her eyes, and for the first time ever, after nineteen years, she looked at me. Her eyes drifted over me in amazement before locking on my eyes.


    ¡°Hi, Mom.¡±

 Arc 2, Chapter 6 -- Sight

    ¡°Hi, Mom,¡± I gave my mother my voice. She¡¯d always heard me, and now she could see me. I wanted to say more, but a sob strangled my throat, and all I could force out was another feeble, ¡°It¡¯s me.¡±


    Mom¡¯s hands came up to drift over my face, getting the shape of it as she had all my life. Her light, almost reverent touch flowed around my features, and her eyes followed them in amazement. She fiercely blinked back tears to keep on drinking in my face, and I joined her, blinking away tears now freely flowing.


    My heart hammered in my chest, joy and relief cutting away a weight I¡¯d carried for way too long. She could see again and be damned to any whispers of guilt that ever came again. I¡¯d brought her sight back; that¡¯s all that mattered.


    Her gaze lingered on me for a few minutes, and slowly, as if too shy to be seen, joy filled her smile. Filled with wonder, her eyes drifted over to my sister¡¯s face.


    ¡°Hi Mom,¡±


    Jane¡¯s smile, surprisingly fragile, also greeted our mother. Jane, being only nine months older than me, her face was nearly as unknown as mine. Mom searched Jane¡¯s face for traces of the baby she¡¯d known. Her hands drifted over my sister¡¯s face in awe and joy. ¡°Baby Girl, my princess.¡± Mom whispered. ¡°When did you get so big? You¡¯re so beautiful!¡±


    Mom started bawling, and we all fell with her. Dad again came around and caught Mom in a hug, his quiet sobs and tears soon soaking her back. Jane and I piled in from the front, my sobs joining the family chorus, while Jane soaked Mom¡¯s other shoulder. We held each other, trembling and heaving with released emotion, until Jane snorted deeply against her clogged nose.


    ¡°Be right back,¡± she said and ran off. Soon she returned with a roll of toilet paper. ¡°Dad, you need to get some real tissues.¡±


    We giggled a little and relaxed, breaking up the hug and passing around the makeshift tissue paper. Mom turned to me, curiosity burning in her eyes.


    ¡°How?¡±


    ¡°I was on the way to work when a hive flared up in front of me. I stopped a couple of antithesis from killing the civilians and was chosen. Not that I knew it at the time.¡± I shrugged. ¡°Thanks to Grandma Hatfield, I had some problems with communicating with my AI at first. We worked it out eventually, and I spent most of my day killing Anti¡¯s and rescuing people. I left with more than enough points to heal my family.¡±


    ¡°Then we have two things to celebrate,¡± Dad said. ¡°I think that this deserves some champagne. Unfortunately, we only have wine.¡± He headed out to the living room, where the liquor cabinet stood.


    ¡°Just bring some glasses,¡± I called out. ¡°Corie? Can you get us some, please?¡±


    A bottle of sparkling wine appeared on the coffee table. Something about this set a fire in my mother, and she stood up, grabbed the bottle, and started exploring the apartment. ¡°We¡¯ll meet you in the living room!¡± she yelled. ¡°I want to see this place finally!¡±


    When the tour finally wound down to the living room, we settled in the couches and chairs, each with a glass of bubbly in our hands.


    ¡°I¡¯d heard good things about Samurai food, but this is better than I had expected,¡± Jane said. ¡°So, have you settled on a name yet? Last I heard, you weren¡¯t keen on the one that other guy gave you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s grown on me. And it¡¯s spread far enough by now that changing it will be hard.¡±


    ¡°What did you end up with?¡± Mom asked.


    ¡°Xenovir. Which is at least easy to say.¡±


    ¡°It suits you,¡± Jane said. Then added with a smirk, ¡°Certainly better than those glasses.¡±


    ¡°Glasses? You have perfect vision, or did at your last checkup.¡± Mom scowled at me in confusion.


    ¡°I use glasses to display any necessary data feeds. I bought a Samurai pair today since my old ones couldn¡¯t handle my new gear¡¯s data.¡± I blinked at myself, surprised at how comfortable I¡¯d become with casually referring to Samurai gear.


    ¡°Oh, come on!¡± Jane protested. ¡°You have to show them.¡±


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    With a sigh, I could see that she wouldn¡¯t let this go, so I reluctantly pulled out the data glasses and put them on.


    My mother stared at me and blinked for a couple of moments. ¡°Gene, dear. I know I¡¯ve been out of the loop for a while, but have fashions degenerated that much?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but not so bad that they¡¯d dredge that travesty up from the fifties.¡± My father grumbled.


    ¡°At least they aren¡¯t studded with rhinestones.¡± Jane was struggling to keep from breaking out in laughter.


    ¡°They¡¯re not lasting.¡± I grumbled, my tone accidentally echoing my father¡¯s. I quickly pulled them off and hid them in a pocket again.


    ¡°Now, tell me more about how you became a Samurai,¡± Mom ordered as we settled into a more serious tone.


    ¡°Okay, but while I do that, can I have permission to run scans on Jane and Dad? I want to be sure you are as healthy as you seem.¡± Jane shrugged, but my father seemed more hesitant.


    Mom, however, was having nothing to do with that. ¡°Gene Thomas Corin, you will let your son scan you. I had to do it, so do you.¡±


    He had the wisdom to shut up and allow the scan. As the drone did its crawling thing, I covered the highlights of my day with some additional comments by Jane. I wrapped up the tale with the closure of the hive and handing off responsibility to another Samurai. ¡°And that brings me back to the real reason I came here tonight.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d love to meet this AI of yours. She sounds like fun.¡± Jane added.


    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea. Corie, is there a way you can join in the conversation?¡±


    --I can link up to the stereo system. I¡¯d love to meet your family!


    <Go ahead.>


    ¡°Hello everyone,¡± Corie¡¯s childlike voice came through the speaker system. My family jumped and looked around for the source.


    ¡°She¡¯s using me to link to the stereo system and broadcasting her voice through it,¡± I explained.


    ¡°You have a lovely voice,¡± my mother said.


    ¡°Thank you, and I¡¯m so happy we were able to help you see again!¡± Corie spoke in a bright and bubbly voice so rapidly that I could almost hear her bouncing in excitement. ¡°It was so amazing to make a difference like that! And Jane, we¡¯ve met, but you may not realize it. I was in the chat today under Andronym. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, Col. Corwin. I like the theory expressed in your latest white paper.¡± Dad raised his eyes at the praise of the paper. It had not been received well by his superiors and hadn¡¯t been made public.


    I shook my head and jumped in before Dad could start in on the topic. ¡°Corie, can you give us the results of your scan for Jane and Dad, please?¡±


    ¡°Sure,¡± she said, settling down into a more serious tone. ¡°I¡¯ll start with you, Jane. You have a slight buildup of toxins, but that is common for people these days. I can provide some pills that can cleanse that out easily. You also carry the gene in the defective form, but it is dormant and recessive. We can either remove it or repair and activate it, either way. But we should also scan your daughter, in case she¡¯s inherited the gene as well.


    ¡°Gene, you too are mostly healthy, but for a slight herniated disk and the same toxin buildup. I prescribe a treatment of nanites, similar to what we did for Sally, and the same pills as Jane.¡±


    <Go ahead and buy what they need, please.>


    Another inhaler appeared on the coffee table, along with a tube of pills. ¡°Jane and Gene only need one of these pills each, but likely Jane¡¯s family will need them too.¡±


    ¡°For context,¡± I turned to my family, ¡°it turns out Grandma Hatfield wasn¡¯t lying. She did kiss or have some kind of contact with the Samurai Bugeye. You remember how she used to brag about it. He somehow transferred alien DNA to her, which then passed on down to Mom and me, and apparently Jane. It explains several things, including why we don¡¯t need as much sleep. But it¡¯s not fully active either, which causes some neural imbalances. The scan showed that you, Mom, aren¡¯t in as much danger as I was, but it should still be dealt with, and soon.¡±


    ¡°Was? She already treated you then?¡± Mom interrupted me.


    ¡°Marcus has been stabilized and is safe. It interfered with the Vanguard-AI interface, so we fixed it even before we could really communicate.


    ¡°For you, Sally,¡± Corie continued, ¡°the scans indicate that what sleep you are getting isn¡¯t rebuilding your neurotransmitters properly. That means that you are going to have more and more symptoms of sleep deprivation, no matter how much sleep you get. This could cause increasing quality of life issues as you go on. We just fixed your sight. I think we should fix the rest of it now so that you don¡¯t have any more of those headaches.¡±


    Dad turned to Mom, a troubled look on his face. ¡°You hadn¡¯t said the headaches were back.¡±


    ¡°I thought it was just stress. I have several clients that are in tough spots, and you know how that affects me.¡± She bit her lip a minute, then asked, ¡°How would this fix happen? Would I have to do surgery or what?¡±


    ¡°Fixing it¡¯ll be simple, but you and Marcus each have to make a decision. That will affect what we do and how we do it. You, Sally, need to decide whether to finish the gene¡¯s activation or to remove the DNA modification entirely. Marcus¡¯s decision doesn¡¯t affect your decision, nor does yours greatly impact Marcus¡¯. I¡¯ll be talking with Marcus directly about his decision, since it¡¯s mostly about Vanguard technicalities and options.¡±


    ¡°Why would I keep the DNA? All that¡¯s going to do is make me less human, right?¡±


    ¡°The DNA is integrated into you and a part of you. The only thing wrong with it is how it¡¯s expressed, similar to how some types of Parkinson¡¯s disease or cancers happen. On the other hand, it has influenced who you are. Beyond not needing as much sleep, the gene improves your thinking speed, your ability to handle multiple tasks or thoughts at once, and had a hand in your becoming ambidextrous. If we strip off the DNA, you will lose most of those other effects too. You won¡¯t be less intelligent, but it¡¯ll take you longer to reach any conclusion.¡±

 Arc 2, Chapter 7 -- A First Decision

    There is every reason to believe that the persistence and adaptability we¡¯ve seen in the antithesis on the tactical level will happen on the strategic level. In fact, several Samurai have reported that the pressure from the Antithesis will increase, both in cadence and severity, all while coming up with different and more effective variants to counter our efforts to eliminate them.


    New variants of the models we are used to seeing will become more common as the volume of antithesis increases. This is not just the increase in higher-tier life forms, but variations at the lower level too. The adoption of the Model 3c, first seen in southern Asia, has spread globally, and it is our opinion that soon they will become the predominant variant.


    Likewise, reports of new variants of Model 9 from Savannah and the several that we saw in Seattle recently indicate that stronger and unexpected variants will be coming.


    The current weapons, training, and engagement doctrines are good at eliminating the models we currently encounter. They do nothing to try to prepare us with the flexibility we will need to address these future threats.


    --Excert of white paper submitted to Cascadia Military Command by Lt Col Corin


    ***


    I tuned out the conversation, confident that Corie would help them make an informed decision, and started another conversation with my AI internally.


    <What decision do I need to make?>


    --It¡¯s related to which catalogs you want to use to do the repair. You¡¯ll have to buy a new catalog or two, but there¡¯s a couple of equally valid options.


    <Okay, what are they?>


    --The more common way on Earth would be to use the common genetic mod catalogs. That would be Class I Viral Editing and Class I Genetics. These two catalogs are the doorway to genetic modification and are usually used by Vanguards with heavy genetic upgrades.


    --The other option would be Class I Bio Manipulation. That is more of a blended, simpler catalog. It¡¯s oriented towards simple actions for common procedures and quick and dirty fixes. In the genetics world, Bio Manipulation would be more like your Class I Medical Utilities for medical issues.


    <Wouldn''t that make Bio Manipulation worse than the other option?>


    --It depends on what you¡¯re looking for. It¡¯s not a question of one being worse than the other, but what use you will get out of the catalogs. Do you want to do the full genetics mod route? Or one of the other options? If you want the full genetic modifications, then getting Bio Manipulation would be redundant. On the other hand, if you¡¯re not needing the PhD-level catalogs, why spend the points on it?


    --The difference between the Bio Manipulation catalog and the Editing/Genetics catalogs would be similar to the difference between first aid and home health versus a full medical degree. To live a healthy life, you don¡¯t need to be a doctor, you just have to know how to take care of yourself, spot diseases, and some first aid.


    <This is really a continuation of that conversation we¡¯ve been having about the types of upgrades, isn¡¯t it?>


    --Yes. You could afford to buy all three catalogs, but it would be a waste of points whichever way you go.


    <I agree, we don¡¯t want to waste the points.>


    I looked at the ceiling in thought while my family¡¯s discussion flowed over me. It came down to how I felt about how to improve myself.


    <The more I think about it, the more uncomfortable I am with full genetic modification. I want to stay me. That¡¯s a combination of what I see in the mirror and the deeper core of myself. As I understand it, if you were to take a clone of genetically-modified-me and raise it up, you would end up with the same altered result, right?>


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    --Yes. It might also be passed down to your children.


    <And at the end of the day, a cybernetics upgrade is just a machine. Bionics sounds the same, but on a smaller scale. That leaves us with what?>


    --The symbiote-based SymSynTech of the Valerians.


    <Which is basically add-on material to the basic human. We already have symbiotic relationships, don¡¯t we? Isn¡¯t that what the gut biomes are about?>


    --Yes, and as a more extreme example, humanity¡¯s mitochondria are actually from an organism that¡¯s not in your direct lineage.


    <It sounds like I¡¯ll probably be going the Valerian route, which means what? That¡¯s a type of gene mod, right?>


    --Valerian symbiont tech actually works well with the Bio Manipulation catalog. In fact, the principles in that are the basis for much of the Valerian¡¯s work.


    <Sounds like we have a winner then. And I should get back to being social.>


    --Yes. Just in time too. Your mother is about to make her decision.


    Due to the speed at which the mind speech operated, my conversation with Corie had only taken a minute or two. I returned my attention to the people in the room and realized that I had been following the conversation in the back of my mind.


    My sister had been interested in activating the genes at the start, but the interactions with her augments had given her pause, and she decided to hold off while she checked regulations. As a military pilot, she had more extensive augs than most people and had to meet certain requirements with them. That left my mother to ask more about the effects of the gene, delving deeper into the neurologic effects than I had.


    ¡°Then I definitely want to keep the gene and complete the activation,¡± she concluded. ¡°We¡¯ll have to see about augments later on. I just reopened a whole world, and I need to get used to it before we look into adding more.¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± I said. I could understand her decision, having gained augs access only today. ¡°Even if I¡¯m short on points when you decide, I¡¯m sure Dad can find me some more aliens.¡± My father squirmed a little, strangely uncomfortable with my offhanded joke.


    ¡°So, how do we do this?¡± Mom asked.


    ¡°Once Marcus completes the purchase,¡± Corie said over the stereo, ¡°I¡¯ll bring in an applicator with which he or you can use to inject the serum, and that¡¯s it. The nanites in the serum will adjust the genes over the next couple days. I¡¯d suggest leaving the sensor drone here so I can monitor the change, just in case. But I estimate the chance of problems to be in the high ten-thousandths of a percent.¡±


    <Buy it.>


    "Catalog Unlocked: Class I Bio Manipulation


    Cost: 75 Remaining points: 7,262


    "Purchased: Custom gene stabilization and activation


    Cost: 20 Remaining points: 7,242¡±


    In the end, applying the serum felt a little anticlimactic. The auto-injector didn¡¯t even have a needle; a spray injector shot the serum through the skin painlessly. Jane left soon after, citing the hour, and I followed behind her. I wasn¡¯t tired, but it felt like my parents wanted some time alone to absorb the ups and downs.


    As I prepared to leave, Dad stopped me in the hallway. ¡°Marcus, I know how much being a Samurai means to you, so I won¡¯t try to take it from you. But as a father, I have to at least ask that you try to stay safe.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to be getting several upgrades tonight, so I should be a lot safer and stronger. I don¡¯t think that the problems I had today will come back.¡±


    ¡°Remember that preparing for yesterday¡¯s battle leaves you flat-footed tomorrow.¡± The saying, one of his often repeated aphorisms, spoke to the core of his biggest complaints with higher command. ¡°There have been some rumors coming from the Samurai that it¡¯s going to become a lot worse, and you just put yourself on the very sharp end of the stick. I¡¯d be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t concerned for my son.¡±


    ¡°Do you think I need to hold back? To play the defensive game?¡±


    ¡°I¡­¡± he ran his fingers through his hair. ¡°We¡¯ve never pushed you and let you determine your own way. And you have done better than we could hope for. We¡¯re proud of you. But I think that for once you need to push forward hard.¡±


    After a lifetime of growing up with him, I could tell when my father had to dance around classified information. Whatever it was, it drove a hint of fear into the eyes of a battle-hardened tank commander. The words to reassure him were slow to come but felt right when I finally spoke. ¡°I¡¯ll just have to fight smart and limit or block their strengths. You¡¯ve taught me a lot about strategy over the years, whether you meant to or not. I¡¯ll use all you taught me to bring the fight to the antithesis from positions of strength. And if I can¡¯t find a strong point, I¡¯ll make one.¡±


    ¡°Tactically offensive, strategically defensive,¡± he replied.


    ¡°Exactly. Let me know if you hear of any opportunities I can make use of.¡± I hugged him and let myself out.

 Arc 2, Chapter 8 -- Dark Musings

    Nat383: Did you hear about Liquid Carbon?


    SvTehWhls: Not recently. Weren¡¯t they the ones using hydro-forests to improve carbon sequestration? Something about wetland forests and peat formation?


    Nat383: That¡¯s what they were trying to do, yes.


    SvTehWhls: Your response has an ominous scent of the past tense.


    Nat383: With good reason: it got eaten up by Antithesis. Several hives appeared surrounding their test swamp, and the researchers barely made it out of there alive.


    SvTehWhls: Where were the fuckin¡¯ Samurai?


    Nat383: Keeping the same hives out of Vicksburg, only so many of them to go around, and they had to prioritize people over projects.


    SvTehWhls: *grumbles*


    --WorldRescue chat forum, 2043


    ***


    As the elevator descended, I donned my data glasses and helmet and then called for another rideshare. While waiting for it, I stood in the lobby and tried to ignore the strange looks from Amanda. A slow, drippy rain, so common to Cascadia, had come in, and I stared at the raindrops streaking through the streetlights. And as in morbid thought I stood, I pondered what my father said.


    <Is it true?>


    --Yes. The incursions that Earth¡¯s seen so far are small, but they will continue to grow bigger.


    <How much bigger?>


    --Enough that comparisons become ludicrous. The rifts are still small enough that they don¡¯t disrupt the planet¡¯s gravity and electromagnetic fields. Eventually, they will get so large that they will have to be centered outside the atmosphere or even the moon¡¯s orbit, or else risk irreparable damage to the planetary body. Their intent is to take over the Earth, not demolish it.


    <That¡¯s¡­ quite a lot, considering they already cover a large city. How long do you think that will take?>


    I thought about the hundreds of aliens I¡¯d killed today, and that was only a small hive breakout. A full-on incursion, where new aliens arrived from who knows where, spanned dozens of kilometers and could take days to contain and required the efforts of several upper-level Samurai.


    --It depends on a lot of factors, some of which cannot be computed. But there could be equal or greater problems before reaching that level. For instance, if a hive remained unnoticed for a long time, it could reach a level that it would be using Model Twelves in place of Model Threes and scaling up from there. Or worse.


    <Which means growing stronger fast, like my father suggested, is a necessity, not simply good advice.>


    --Yes and no. There comes a point where you grow too fast and don¡¯t learn to properly control your power. It¡¯s a balancing act that can be hard to maintain.


    <Thus, we have the point system?>


    --And the tokens, but they are there for other reasons too.


    <I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve talked about tokens yet?>


    At this time my rideshare had shown up, and I climbed into the vehicle. My shirt clung to my body in a wet, soggy mass, prompting me to add a new line to the Upgrade Requirements list: Raincoat.


    --You earn tokens by completing various accomplishments, like rescuing your first 100 people. They are used to unlock higher-level catalogs, which give more powerful options.


    <The cyclone generator that Forr¨® uses? That¡¯s from second-level catalogs?>


    --More likely a Class III catalog, maybe even higher. They form a tech pyramid where you have to unlock several related Class II catalogs to open the next level. And the Class III takes more tokens, and so on upwards.


    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    <So I¡¯ll need to, what? Protect more people to get the next token?>


    --There¡¯s a wide variety of milestones, most of them related to demonstrating your ability, responsibility, stability, and dedication. From what I¡¯ve seen, you¡¯ll get plenty with what you would do naturally.


    <Okay, so for now, we need to talk about my upgrades. I¡¯ll start with my general upgrade thoughts and preferences. First, as I¡¯ve already said, I don¡¯t like throwing away gear, and any permanent upgrades should allow it to improve with me rather than replacing and throwing away the old gear. Consumables, like the sealant, are a necessary evil. But if I might need a dozen of the same thing, I¡¯d rather pay for a longer-term solution.>


    I paused, watching the city lights paint stars on the wet windows.


    <Maneuverability is important. That¡¯s both in terms of moving about the battlefield and defense. The best defense is to not get hit. Faster movement, flexibility, and situational awareness are high priorities.>


    <I also have a strong preference for precision, training, and skill over brute force. Samurai have a well-deserved reputation for collateral damage. Granted, sometimes you can¡¯t avoid that when dealing with large hordes, but from what I¡¯ve seen and heard, most of the time they¡¯re compensating for not developing the skill to use what they have by using excessive force.>


    <Finally, and in keeping with the last, I want to be tactically flexible and able to change up what I¡¯m using based on the situation, rather than just hitting the proverbial wall harder.>


    --That¡¯s very helpful. You speak confidently of your preferences, but I have to ask: if you¡¯ve never seen combat before today, how can you be so sure you¡¯re right? How much of that is from experience and how much from philosophy or ideals?


    <A lot of it is ideals from thinking about what I¡¯ve seen of Samurai in the news, and talks with my family. But I do have some experience tactically in shooting ranges, and via video games. I play in some of the tougher leagues on the more realistic games, so some of that experience carries over. And the VR rooms at work, which I use all the time, are often rented by full military groups for training which they swear by.>


    --We¡¯ll have to see how it plays out. But I¡¯ll admit from today¡¯s performance, you don¡¯t seem like the More Dakka, Bigger Boom type of Vanguard.


    The rideshare pulled into the garage, and I spent a few minutes negotiating security and retrieving my other weapons. Finally, I made it to my apartment. With a smile, I accessed the door lock via my hind-brain for the first time and was immediately embarrassed by the number of ads and pop-ups that flooded my glasses.


    --That won¡¯t do. Some of those have security holes big enough to put the moon through. I¡¯ll shut them down for now. You are thinking of upgrading the locks on your place, aren¡¯t you? Or supplementing them?


    <The company that owns the building, Portera, requires access, so I can¡¯t change out the locks. It never seemed this bad on my tablet. Can you show me how to clean up what¡¯s there at least?>


    --Absolutely. Cleaning your locks would be good practice. That¡¯s why I only shut them down, rather than remove the malware entirely.


    <I guess so. I can¡¯t believe that none of my family mentioned it.>


    Corie sent a wordless blurb of data that amounted to an unknowing shrug.


    The door shut behind me, a bastion against the day¡¯s events, and the stress drained away while I leaned back against it. Across the room, my second-hand couch tempted me with its soft seating. But the weight of the weapons in my arms reminded me that I couldn¡¯t stop yet.


    I squeezed past the computer desk into the small kitchen and dinette. After dumping the weapons onto the table, I took the five steps needed to reach the bedroom closet and change into dry clothes. Squeezed between the bedroom door and the couch stood my gun safe, from which I retrieved my gun cleaning kit.


    The kit landing on the table caused the pile of firearms to settle, and the pistol slid over the surface, nearly falling off before I could catch it. I stood there weighing the weapon in my hand, not really seeing it. One of the cultist¡¯s weapons. And while the owner of this weapon had survived, most had not, many by my hand.


    My stomach dropped as it hit me: I¡¯d killed people today. Not just ravenous aliens, but breathing, thinking people.


    My hands acted out of reflex born of habit, while my mind struggled through my emotions. They pulled the magazine and cleared the round, then tilted the gun for a peek down the barrel. I looked, not really seeing, more aware of the pink flesh than the cold steel. Why pink? Why aren¡¯t they red with blood?


    I slumped into a chair and continued to handle the weapon, rubbing the steel and plastic until it warmed in my hand. At times sharp corners pressed my palm, waves of intensity in counterpoint to the soothing caress.


    The cultists that we¡¯d attacked, that I¡¯d killed, were the first, the only people I¡¯d ever killed, and it bothered me that I didn¡¯t feel bad over it. The image of the cult leader (what was his name again?) falling off the balcony ran through my mind, over and over again. Then, in the background of his falling, in my memory, I spotted the tracks that had dangled corpses above the antithesis like dog treats.


    At work, I encountered a lot of people, some that I forgot easily and others that stood out years later. One of the standouts, a regular, was a police sniper with over a hundred kills. One day someone asked how he could do it, and I still remembered his response.


    ¡°Each time, before the shot, or afterwards, because sometimes you only have seconds, I ask myself these questions: Are innocents in danger? Am I or my team in danger? Are we out of options? Are they beyond any hope of change? If none of the answers are ¡°yes,¡± then I don¡¯t take the shot. Those are the lines I draw. So far, I¡¯ve been lucky; the only ones I lose sleep over are the few where I wasn¡¯t certain on the third question.¡±


    I applied that rule to the situation I had been in and found it passed the test. Trying to make myself feel guilty in this case would only make me feel bad. I nodded my head and started to disassemble the pistol for cleaning.

 Arc 2, Chapter 9 -- Decisions

    It¡¯s great to plan out your attack and figure out the best way to handle any particular hive. They are all different, you know? And you don¡¯t want to risk letting some little Four escape since that could mean more work later on.


    But sometimes it feels good to just let loose and hammer away without a care. A girl¡¯s got needs, you know?


    --T4 (Tiny Tough Terror of Titans), Guest star live stream with Dealpas during a thinning excursion in northern Canada.


    ***


    <Alright, upgrades. As I see it, there are several types to look at, boiling down to: Armor, Brain & Cyber, Weapons, Body Enhancements, and Senses. Am I missing anything?>


    --You mentioned mobility, so maybe something for transportation? And what about saving something for home defense?


    <And also¡­ call it Personal Logistics. Things like supplies, how you carry gear, and training. That would include transportation. And food fits in there if I end up with special dietary needs.>


    --You really have thought about this a lot.


    <I don¡¯t think anyone of my generation hasn¡¯t played the ¡°What if I became a Samurai?¡± game when we were little. Some of us never stopped. In the computer games I play, the characters have the same needs and obstacles as a Samurai. And we gamers have built ways to talk about those needs, so we all understand each other. That teaches you how to organize the needs so you at least know your weaknesses, if not fill them in.>


    --It certainly covers the basics. While there are other ways of organizing it, I don¡¯t know that they would be better. The only additions I¡¯d suggest are: Longevity, Connections, and Luxuries


    <Not sure what you mean by Longevity or Connections? Luxuries explains itself.>


    --Longevity would be making sure you can keep up the pace. The large part of it is production facilities for consumables and a means of income. Often hobbies fall under longevity too, since they help keep you mentally stable.


    --Connections would be about helping or improving the people and community around you. Helping and protecting your family is popular, but the section also includes any projects not related to killing antithesis.


    --Both categories are secondary expenditures that can be overlooked, causing them to be starved for points when something comes up.


    <Alright, I don¡¯t want to buy things piecemeal. I¡¯d rather look at the whole, and see what all my needs are before making any specific recommendations. To that end, I¡¯d like to review today, particularly the battles, and see what comes out of that, both for where I can improve and what gear options they suggest.>


    Having finished cleaning the pistol, I confirmed the safety was set on the rest of the weapons, removed the magazines, and cleared the chambers. Since everything else still needed cleaning, I left them on the table for now and put the pistol in my safe while on the way to the living room couch. I didn¡¯t want any distractions while doing this review.


    --I¡¯ve several hours of video, often in a couple angles. Tara often had a camera on you. Did you want the full raw feed? Or should I select out parts?


    <Just the best angles and only the times of combat, please.>


    --Queue the video montage!


    What followed was less of a montage and more of a skip-step of most of my battles today displayed on the data glasses. Between drone coverage and Kaitlyn¡¯s recordings, Corie had a lot of video of me, even some from public security cameras from my initial battle out on the street. We paused often to critique my performance and brainstorm fixes, of which I kept tallies.


    Surprisingly, I was more critical than Corie. From her perspective, any flaw fixable by spending points could be forgiven. I, on the other hand, held myself to a high standard of skill. Any upgrades should be ways to overcome physical weaknesses and human limits, not a crutch to avoid using and improving my natural ability.


    We saved the two most critical fights to the end and reviewed them in detail. Those were the battles in the cultist¡¯s room and clearing out the M-4 at the entrance to the machine room on the way out. In other words, the times when I ended up in melee. Despite the severe injury in the later battle, going into the review I felt that I hadn¡¯t done too badly.


    Watching the fights in the camera¡¯s third person forced me to see them objectively. And frankly, I sucked at close combat. I only survived due to being unpredictable and not in a good way. More like a flailing about ¡°hoping I get lucky¡± way. The sharpness of my blades proved the biggest factor in my survival.


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    <Training in melee combat is definitely needed. I honestly don¡¯t know how much I¡¯ll have to use it. I¡¯m a gun person, and I¡¯d rather kill the Anti¡¯s when they still can¡¯t reach me, but when you need it, you really need it.>


    --That¡¯s true. There¡¯s lots of times when you can¡¯t keep them at a safe range.


    As we talked, I moved back into the dinette and picked up the P5-AT. Years of practice and familiarity made for quick cleaning while I continued the conversation.


    <First priority is healing. I have a promise to uphold, and any other upgrade doesn¡¯t matter if I¡¯m dead.>


    --Any thoughts or preferences? Even just within the Valerian catalogs, there¡¯s a zillion options.


    <I¡¯d be stupid to ignore that I¡¯ve been hurt twice already to the point of losing consciousness. I need something built in that can do a burst of healing like those nanite dispensers. It doesn¡¯t have to take me back to full health, only enough to get me back into the fight. On top of that, we can layer a general regenerative boost for long-term and downtime recovery.>


    --And the general regen should make the burst healing more effective. I have a few hundred options for each type of upgrade. Did you want to see the choices?


    <Sure.>


    I paused my cleaning while a pair of lists appeared in my glasses, each with expandable options showing details about the upgrade. One list was labeled ¡°Burst Healing,¡± and the other ¡°Metabolic Enhancement.¡± Both began with a highlighted option, then several more were flagged as good options, followed by page after page of other options. They grew stranger and less suited for me the farther I scrolled down.


    I stopped at one of the enhancement options several pages down, which offered ¡°augmentation of metabolism by external reprocessing waste for a secondary handling by the host.¡± The expanded image showed a person with a series of tentacles inserting into the lower stomach. They lead up to an organism hanging on the chest that ended in a single tube that ran up the side of the neck and into the figure¡¯s mouth. With a disgusted look on my face, I closed that sub-window.


    <To be honest, I¡¯m not sure what I¡¯m looking at with these. Why did you select those top ones over the others?>


    --I chose them primarily for their versatility and effectiveness. They are the strongest in their category at what they do. They also are entirely internal, leaving your appearance unchanged. While you don¡¯t seem particularly vain, you have expressed concerns that you want to stay you, and part of that comes down to general appearance.


    I nodded my head and resumed cleaning the rifle.


    <What are the details of those options? How do they work, and what do they do?>


    --The Bionite Nodules will grow using your own metabolism, forming a renewable resource. Each nodule contains a large quantity of bionites, which are microscopic programmed biomes. Part cell, part virus, they act similar to nanites, except they are fully biological.


    --When you take severe damage, the symbiont will release the bionites in one or more nodules for a burst of healing. The symbiont and bionites can be directed via your SymTech Gland for focused healing. The symbiont will have three nodules to start, but you can expand that if necessary.


    --The Symbiote Alimentary Support System is the second core component of the Valerian system. It will allow your body to digest any nutrients needed for your symbionts so you can support them and regulate your immune system to prevent rejection of the symbionts. The regenerative boost and other improvements, while nothing to scoff at, are frankly side effects of a more efficient metabolism. Even if you didn¡¯t ask for the regen boost, I¡¯d be recommending this when we get to any other enhancements.


    <That should cover that commitment. And I think the SymTech Gland has me covered for Brain & Cyber unless you have other suggestions?>


    --Did you want to go over the training options for cyberwarfare now? Or later?


    <Let¡¯s get to that later. There are several trainings I¡¯m interested in, but it¡¯s better to get the big ticket items out of the way first so we know how much I have left.>


    --Armor and Body enhancements are the two big ones left.


    <It¡¯s not going to matter which comes first, so let¡¯s go in alphabetical order. I prefer light and flexible armor over bulky and heavy. When we had proper battlefield control, the only real threats today were the Model Six and Model Five. M-6s I can dodge if I¡¯m fast enough. So the real threat right now is the ranged attacks from the M-5 and the next one up, the Model Sixteen?>


    --I think you mean the Model Fifteen. Any armor you buy right now that could take a direct hit from one of those would not be classified as ¡°light.¡± In fact, it¡¯d be more of a powered body armor and quite expensive. But you could certainly get something to survive secondary frag effects.


    <With light armor and good reflexes, I should be able to get out of the way of their attacks. My focus with the body enhancement will be speed, though I do not intend to make that a defining feature. I¡¯m aiming for a slippery devil, not a full-on dodge tank.>


    --Sure, any other ideas about the armor?


    I thought about it for a few minutes.


    <One bonus thing, not a deal breaker, but it would be nice if the armor can be easily hidden or stowed. I¡¯ve always felt that Samurai who always wore their armor were showing off or compensating for something.>


    --I¡¯m sure sometimes that¡¯s from hard experience. It sucks getting hurt because you left your armor behind to go clubbing only to have some corpo with a grudge crash the party.


    <True, which is why I said hidden or stowed, not left at home. But then again, showing up to the club in full battle dress is either a sign of distrust or arrogance. It also separates the Samurai from the common people, making them less approachable. I don¡¯t want to cut myself off from humanity if I can.>


    --That helps me narrow it down some. Not that the look of most of these can¡¯t be altered. Colors certainly can be changed, and even some textures.


    Another window appeared in my glasses with an incredibly long list. This time several options had been flagged as possibilities, and several dozen more as good fits. I scrolled down them for quite a few pages, checking out some that caught my eye.