Chapter Thirty-Five – Dog Gone Wrong
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Chapter Thirty-Five - Dog Gone Wrong

“At some point, the last of the Boomers finally passed away, and the traditions of the workspace largely faded with their passing. This ushered in a new era of business-philosophy, where the styles of the late 1900s were largely discarded.

In some ways, this was an improvement. Management was generally more aware of issues with the environment, with the mental health of their employees, and of the kind of issues that could be caused by social movements.

Their answers were to hide any environmental impacts, to pre-emptively fire any stressed employees, and to quash any social movements before they took off.”

--Business Outsider, 2047

***

My entire life, I’d walked into places where I really shouldn’t have been. Usually in parts of the city that weren’t welcoming to a one-armed girl whose only weapon was a sharp tongue. More recently, as a Samurai, I’d been a bit more liberal with my travelling. Running around as if it didn’t matter that I wasn’t allowed to be where I was.

It was a bit weird, but, in those moments, I was still myself.

Now I felt off. I was essentially in a costume, marching down the corridors of a complex and getting a bit lost while crossing by scientists and technicians who never gave me more than a second glance.

If they noticed that I felt uncomfortable, they didn’t comment on it at all.

My eyes twitched as I brought up a map of the facility. It wasn’t big enough to really get lost in, but there were more doors sealing off the different sections than I’d expected. Not that they impeded me much. The doors had electronic locks so laughably cheap that I probably could have broken through with a crowbar. Having Myalis break into them was just overkill.

I reached the back of the facility in a little while. There were fewer people here, and those that I saw were often sitting in little labs, or typing away in front of computers. For all the labcoats I saw, there didn’t seem to be that much science-y stuff going on.

I was expecting a whole lot more bubbling solutions and bunsen burners, but maybe I shouldn’t have been setting my standards based on pirated cartoons. There were a lot more workshop-looking places, so for all I knew the place was doing more engineering-ish science than... other sorts of science.

“God damn it,” I muttered.

Is something wrong?

“Lucy was right.”

She is rather clever, so that isn’t too surprising. What was she right about this time?

“My education’s kinda shit,” I said.

That is correct, yes. Are you considering going to school?

“Urgh,” I said. I stepped to the side and moved over towards a janitor’s closet as a trio of guys moved by. Two of them were in suits, the last in a lab-coat. They barely looked at me as I opened the door to the closet and looked inside, trying to look busy. They were heading in the same direction I’d been moving in, which was a bit annoying. “Yeah, she might be right, but I don’t know about that,” I said.

If they heard me, they’d probably assume I was on the line with someone, which wasn’t technically wrong.

Perhaps a non-traditional education then? The human propensity to teach people in groups is efficient on a large scale, but given the opportunity, being taught directly is far more effective for a given individual.

“So, like, online classes?” I asked. Those were pretty popular. We’d taken some at the orphanage whenever a new pandemic sprung up.

With the right additional augmentations, and perhaps some liberal use of certain drugs, you could cram in a few years worth of education into a few days. There are catalogues that allow you to essentially download vast amounts of information into your memory.

“That sounds fucking awful,” I said.

Or you could enroll into a local school? I’m certain some of the better private schools would love to have a Vanguard in attendance. You might not even have to wear their uniform.

“And that sounds an order of magnitude worse. Right, I’ll think about it,” I said. The three guys had moved on and around the bend, so I moved out of the janitor’s closet and set off towards the end of the corridor.

My goal was just to the left, which unfortunately is where I found the scientist and his two business buddies. I skipped back around the corner and twitched my ears to listen to them. All three were right before the door holding Katallina.

“The subject has been somewhat cooperative,” the scientist was saying. “But it could be better.”

“We don’t care about cooperation, we care about results.”

“Hey now,” business dude #2 said. “Results are the end goal, but if we can get them without risking the girl, or better yet, while getting her to want to work with us, then that would be for the best, right?”

“What, you’re planning on giving her sick days, maybe a 401K?” Jerkwad asked.

The scientist cleared his throat. “Whatever the case, the subject hasn’t actually produced anything yet. So far we’ve been trying the nice approach under the assumption that other enhanced forms of encouragement can’t be undone.”

“Enhanced forms of encouragement?” I repeated in a whisper.

I suspect that it’s a euphemism for torture.

“Oh,” I said. “Well, that makes this a whole lot more justified.”

I spun around the corner and brought my brand new grenade launcher, the Icarus, up to my shoulder. The stock was actually quite comfortable. A menu appeared in the corner of my vision with the different options for explosives laid out in an easy-to-use wheel menu.

I selected ‘Fragmentation’ because I figured HE might accidentally blow up the girl in the next room over.

“Hey, do you have permission to be here?” Business dude no. 2 asked.

I raised my off hand in a wait-one-moment gesture.

Would the fragmentation go through the wall? I wasn’t entirely sure.

“Hey!” he repeated.

“Shut up, I’m deciding how to shoot you,” I said as I flicked through the menu a bit more.

Jerkwad turned to the scientist sort, then pointed a finger right at me. “Who’s this? Is she one of yours?”

“No sir, she, uh, might be a contractor?” the scientist asked. He really didn’t sound certain.

I flicked the menu over to the knock-out gas option. Worse case with that I’d put the girl and her dog to sleep. No biggie.

“Are you an idiot?” Jerkwad asked. “You can’t just let anyone in here.”

I rolled my eyes, then brought the gun up. It made a handy little red line appear in my vision, arcing where the grenade would go. So I made it overlap with Jerkwad’s head. A squeeze, and the Icarus shook three times as a trio of grenades thumped out of it.

The first smacked Jerkwad in the side of the head and sent him tumbling down with a scream.

I snorted as the hall filled with the hissing of pressurized gas. “Sleep tight, assholes,” I said as I lowered the launcher and started forward.

They looked like they wanted to protest, but were too busy stumbling around drunkenly to do anything of the sort.

By the time I reached the door they’d been standing before they were on the ground, drooling and insensate. “Can you break into their augs?” I asked Myalis. “Kinda curious to know who these idiots are.”

Easily done. Anything you want to know in particular?

I thought about it. “No, not really. Just empty their bank accounts.”

Into your own?

“That makes me sound greedy. Split it into thirds? A chunk for me, one for Gomorrah, and the rest to the girl.” I poked the door. It was a heavy metal thing, more fit for a prison than a room. The electronic lock next to it flashed green the moment I glanced at it. Myalis’ work, I guessed as I pulled it open.

Just like Deus Ex’ scans showed, it wasn’t a very large space. Half the room had a few cupboards and some chairs. The other half had a cot and a little toilette behind a thick plastic wall.

A girl was on the cot, her head rising as she looked over at me.

She glared.

I stepped in and closed the door. “How’s the gas in here?” I asked.

I suspect the air on her side is filtered, otherwise she would be knocked out already.

“That’s annoying,” I said. “How long will we have to wait?”

The gas is meant to stay around an area for some time. It’s more effective that way. I should note that, while I’ve shut off the facility’s security, there's a chance someone will notice the bodies.

I nodded along. “Hey, kid, can you hear me?” I asked.

She glared harder, which was a yes in my book. A dog’s head rose up from the blankets next to her. They hadn’t killed the mutt. That was nice.

“Right,” I said. A flick through my augs and my disguise flicked off. “My name’s Stray Cat. I’m a friend. You ready to blow this joint?”

She’s not a Vanguard.

I froze for just a second. “You sure? Wait, yeah, of course you are. Then....” I moved closer to the glass door. No matter what, I’d still save the girl. “Hey, kid, you were near another samurai during that incursion, right?”

She swallowed, then got up. Her outfit had been replaced by some scrubs at some point, all off-green and tacky looking as hell. “Who the hell are you?”

“Oh, great, another kid with an attitude,” I muttered. “This day’s just perfect.”

***

Since this'll be the last post of the month...

Backlog as of Today! Unposted
Cinnamon Bun: 69657
Stray Cat Strut 15754
The Agartha Loop 13007
Secret 3256
Total 101674

Bit sad that my backlog's not bigger, but I posted more Agartha than I wrote this month, and I just barely kept up with Stray Cat Strut's chapters.

Oh well! Join the patreon if you wanna jump ahead! At the $5 tier you get access to everything, including the Discord where we talk plot every day, and where you can take part in crafting the next silly story! Also, I get to pay rent!

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