Chapter Fifty-Nine - Looking Like a Big Damn Hero

“There are Samurai who chose not to fight.

It’s crazy. They’re the protectors of humanity. How else are you going to get your face on cereal boxes and your logo on panties unless you’re out there kicking alien ass?

But no. There are these assholes who have the powers of gods who just want to chill out in some Nation of Florida beach house, or who want to pretend to be normal people as if we’re not depending on them!”

--Internet commentator, July 2058

***

Unlike the last shelter, this one was obviously built to be accessed by as many people as possible in as short a time as possible. The entrance was behind a pair of large double doors that lead into a sort of concourse. It reminded me a bit of the entrance into a subway, only without any of the stairs and a lot more trash heaped against the corners.

The door itself looked like something out of a movie. Huge, with rivet heads the size of my fist set in a square frame split down the middle. I guessed that they were meant to slide open.

There was a panel off to one side. I figured that was how the door was meant to be opened, but I didn’t want to try that yet. “Think you can knock for me?” I asked.

I’m literally inside your head. Any knocking I do would be quite interesting for your cranium.

I rolled my eyes. “I mean, there’s got to be a way to ping the people inside to tell them to open up, right?” I looked around, but other than some tipped over trash cans and waist-high barriers casting long shadows, there wasn’t anything alien around.

Even the Antithesis had better things to do than hang around in an empty area that glowed with flat neon light.

I can. For the record, what you are doing might not go over well with all of the people in the shelter.

“Why the hell not?” I asked.

Some humans have been noted to prefer more certain odds over those that they can’t calculate, even if those odds might be worse. The chances of them surviving in the long term if they remain in the shelter are low at best. But coming out of there and travelling out of the area of the incursion has a higher initial risk of being fatal. Afterwards, once they’ve reached safety, that risk drops to next to nothing.

That... made an uncomfortable amount of sense. If it were me in there with the kittens, would I leave? The outside probably felt like some sort of nightmare to them. “Got a solution to that?”

The issue is mostly psychological. There are ways to address it. Overriding people's fear is probably the easiest. Unfortunately, that would require a lot of... for a lack of better terms, presence. If you had an army at your back, they would listen. Or if you had overwhelming technology, like Deus Ex at your beck and call, then they would be assured that you can take care of them despite the increased danger.

I scratched at the side of my nose. That... kind of meshed with some of my own experiences. Getting the kittens to do anything was impossible for some people. They could sense when some of the volunteers were pushovers. And yet they’d snap to it if Lucy asked or if I threatened them with an ass kicking.

There were some others who got the brats to behave. One of the more common human caretakers was an ex-nun of some sort. The woman had a tongue that would make a drill sergeant look like a pansy.

I didn’t have the time or the tongue to scare a thousand-odd people into compliance. I did have the ability to buy shit though.

“Myalis. Is there a disguise catalogue? One where you can buy stuff that’s fake for less than it would cost to buy the read deal?”

There is. I don’t think it has ever been used before. Most Vanguard are content to wait to buy a real version of whatever they need.

“I don’t have the points for that. I want... are there any guns and such I can mount onto Dumbass? Like, big scary ones?”

Yes. From your current catalogues you have plasma and small kinetic arms.

“Right... I’ll need two more Dumbasses. Can they have numbers on them or something?”

That won’t even cost you more points.

New Purchase: Type One GG3R Stealth Drone. Two Units
Points Reduced to... 813

That stung a bit, but I now had three Dumbasses around me. Two of them had numbers stenciled onto the end of their legs. A large ‘2’ and ‘3’ under the word ‘Dumbass’ in cursive. Myalis was being cute again.

“Right, now that fake stuff.”

This is certainly a plan.

I rolled my eyes as a new notification came up.

Class I Decoys Unlocked!
Points Reduced to... 763

“Right,” I said. “Let’s cut to the chase. I need some big guns for my two new dumbasses. And I need a fuck-huge gun for myself. Something that’ll tell people in no uncertain terms that they shouldn’t fuck with me.”

I can’t decide whether I enjoy you being creative or if I dread it. No boxes, I assume. You wouldn’t want proof of your duplicity laying around.

I nodded.

New Purchase: Decoy Model Five Rotating Antimatter Canon
Points reduced to... 663

The price had me wincing. And then a gun appeared by my side. One that was nearly as long as I was tall and that hovered at waist height. It looked like it was made of melted steel, all covered and rain-drop-like except for large cutaways that revealed a set of five wrist-thick barrels inside.

It had a pair of handles that looked just about right for holding it at hip-height. “Nice,” I said.

The actual gun would cost you nearly seventy thousand points.

I choked. “What? How?”

It’s a tier three antimatter weapon.

I scrunched my nose, and looked at it, then at the much smaller, much less awesome plasma rifle I had. I would need to grind a bit, I guessed.

“Right, we need things for the Dumbasses.”

Might I suggest giving the gun you currently have to one of your drones? The mounting for it is fairly cheap.

“Yeah, sure,” I said.

New Purchase: Decoy Drone-Mounted Rail Cannons. Two Units.
Points Reduced to... 653

New Purchase: Stealth Drone Universal Gun Mount
Points Reduced to... 603

Two large chunky... gun things appeared. Dumbasses one and two skittered under them, then stood up. They still only reached up to my knees, but now they had glowy barrel things mounted on their backs.

The last unit was more like a saddle with a couple of arms on it. They looked like the drone’s normal legs, but a bit more spindly. Dumbass, the first of its name, came up to my side and rubbed itself against my leg until I dipped down and placed the plasma rifle atop it. Little arms grabbed the gun and then clicked in place around it.

Dumbass shifted around a bit, testing the new weight, then it circled around me a few times while pointing the gun every which way.

“Yep. Super intimidating,” I said.

It can probably still aim better than you.

“Ouch,” I deadpanned before grabbing onto the antimatter cannon. The fake antimatter cannon. “Why is this thing hovering?” I asked.

The original, non-decoy model weighs in excess of fifty metric tones. Dimensional shunting is required to house parts of it.

“Uh huh,” I said. I wouldn’t start to pretend that I knew how that worked. “So, let’s get those doors open and greet all the nice people stuck in there.”

Do you want me to ‘knock’ first? I can send a message to their gear to expect your arrival.

“What will you send?” I asked suspiciously. She had fooled me twice already.

I read the box filling my vision, then nodded. “That works.”

Sending. Sent! And now opening!

The doors shifted just an inch with a noise that sounded like one of those recordings of the last glaciers cracking. Even with just an inch open I caught a whiff of sweat and the unforgettable smell of too many bodies in one space.

“Time to put on a show,” I said.

***