Chapter Forty-Four - Sword Talk

“The term ‘samurai’ was, for the most part, a meme that became part of the standard lexicon. Early vanguards--as they’re appropriately called--were compared to feudal warriors, a new caste of expert combatants against the Antithesis threat.

Interestingly enough, there are a number of vanguard that gravitate towards a self-image very similar to the pop cultural depictions of actual samurai. From carrying swords, to cultivating a ‘gentleman warrior’ personality, they mimic the legends of the past to further their own image in the present.”

--Lecture on the Cultural History of the Ancient Warrior, Professor Hickmen, 2040

***

“Hey Rac,” I said as I sat down in the kitchen.

The girl pulled her head out of the fridge, a block of cheese in her mouth, a loaf of bread tucked under her arm, and I think every bottle of condiment in the fridge was pressed against her side. “Hmh,” was her reply.

I watched as she navigated over to the table and dumped everything onto it, then returned to the fridge to scavenge out more stuff. “What’cha making?” I asked.

“Sandwich,” she replied, her voice made echoey on account of her being halfway in the fridge.

“Cool,” I said. “Guess I’ll make one too.”

Rac returned with three packages of food, while I found some plates and some knives from one of the drawers. For some reason likely related to the kittens, there were no sharp knives left in any of the drawers, just butter knives.

Rac and I made sandwiches. It was nice.

“The ham’s the best,” Raccoon said between large bites.

I hummed. “I like the turkey better,” I replied. We had made a few sandwiches from all the meats available. Real meats too, at least according to what was written on their packages.

“So,” Rac said. She reached over and grabbed a juice box, tore the straw off the back, and jammed it through the top. She slurped loudly before speaking again. “When do you want me to leave?”

“You don’t have to,” I said. I shoved the end of my current sandwich down my mouth, then slapped a piece of bread down on my plate and reached over for the tomato paste.

“I’m not going to stick around and be one of your kittens,” Rac said. “I’m my own girl, and I can take care of myself. Also, pass the mayo.”

I passed her the mayo. “That’s alright too. But if you ever need a place to spend the night, then we’re around. And if you’re looking for work...”

“You said that already. What kind of work? All I know how to do is pick up trash.”

“Well, it happens that that’s exactly what the job I’m thinking of needs,” I said.

“What job?”

I looked up as Lucy walked into the kitchen. Her hair was a wet mop above her head, dragged down and looking kind of pitiful. She was in fresh clothes, which is to say torn up cargo pants and a stained t-shirt.

“I’m hiring Rac for a thing. Also, we need to go clothes shopping.”

“We do,” Lucy agreed.

“Later today... maybe?”

She grinned. “If the world doesn’t catch fire between now and then, sure.”

“I’ll tell the world to chill the fuck out for a bit.” I placed some meat down, then some slices of cheese which I covered in some brownish sauce that tasted sweet. Then the final bit of bread. “Want half?” I asked.

“Hell yeah,” Lucy said. She sat across from me, and for a moment there was peaceful quiet as everyone at the kitchen island chowed down. “What are we doing today?” Lucy asked.

“Myalis called some contractors this morning,” I said. “If you want, we can pop over to the museum and we can decide how to lay things out with someone there who, you know, does that kind of stuff.”

“Oh,” Lucy said. “That does sound nice.”

I nodded. “After that. Uh, depends? I have a few calls to make, and some important people to annoy. I think you could come along for some of that, but it’s a little dangerous. I’d rather you were home.”

Lucy stared, one eyebrow rising.

“Not because I don’t think you could help, I just don’t want you to get hurt, and you don’t have armour like I do, or Myalis. And you can watch over the kittens, uh,” I said. I had the distinct impression that Lucy was letting me talk more so that I could dig myself deeper than to actually hear what I had to say.

She grinned. “You’re lucky that you’re so cute,” she said.

“What’s that mean?”

Lucy shook her head. “I can come back here before you go and get all dangered up.”

I nodded. “Cool.” We finished up, and then I went over to our bedroom to grab something to wear. I couldn’t go out in nothing but a t-shirt if I wanted to be taken seriously.

I slid on my under armour after giving it a sniff--still clean enough--then stared at my armour in the shower.

It was a little bulky for everyday wear, I figured. Instead I tossed on my long trench coat and put on some of my slightly older gear. I wouldn’t be as bulletproof, but we were literally just going to meet some people here and there. Nothing dangerous. And if it came to that, I could just buy more armour on the fly.

Probably one of the reasons samurai were so damned dangerous themselves.

I returned to the main room of the penthouse to find most of the kittens making an absolute mess of everything in the name of breakfast. Rac looked deeply uncomfortable as she guarded her sandwich from the others.

“You leaving again?” Junior asked.

I reached over and ruffled her hair for the split second it took her to smack my hand away. “Yep. And I’m taking Lucy and Rac with me.”

“‘Kay,” Junior said. “So I’m in charge.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Seniority,” Junior said.

“I’m older than you!” Daniel called out from next to the stove. I suspected he was trying to make scrambled eggs.

Junior scoffed. “I’ve been an orphan longer.”

“That’s not a proper way to measure time,” Daniel said. “Nor is it how anyone should elect a temporary leader.”

“I don’t know, time since parental demise sounds like a better system than some of the ways politicians get elected,” I said.

One of my cat mechas walked into the room. “There have, historically, been stranger methods to elect a leader,” Myalis said through the mecha.

I snapped my fingers. “That’s it. Junior, you’re in charge while we’re gone. Myalis is your lieutenant.”

“Cool,” Junior said. “Can I buy weapons and shit?”

“Wait, what?” Daniel asked. “Are you serious?”

“Do you want to babysit?” I asked him.

He froze for a moment until his eggs started to hiss in the pan. “I retract my objections,” he said.

“You ready?” Lucy asked. She was waiting by the door, a knowing smile in place and her hand on the handle. She seemed eager to get going, and I didn’t have any good reason to slow her down.

“Yeah,” I said before adjusting my coat with one hand. The other was busy holding onto the sheath of my sword.

Rac and I followed Lucy out into the corridor, the girl next to me still stuffing her pockets full of packaged meat and some stuff she’d swiped from the pantry.

“Why do you have a sword?” Lucy asked.

“Because it’s cool,” I said. “Besides, I don’t want to leave this thing with the kittens.”

“Okay, but it’s a sword. You have guns. You have railguns, even. And a rocket launcher,” Lucy pointed out.

“And now I have a sword,” I said.

Lucy stared at it, then back up to me. “You need a belt for that,” she said. “Or at least something to hold it. You can’t walk around with a sword in hand all day.”

“I mean, I can, it would just be really inconvenient.”

“Why a sword anyway?” Lucy asked.

“I dunno, but I like it? It looks cool.”

Lucy slid her arm around mine and held on close. “So it makes you feel powerful? Like a giant phallic symbol, then?”

“It’s not like that,” I said.

“Oh Cat, maybe later we can play with your sword together,” Lucy murmured next to my ear.

I felt my cheeks warming. “I said it’s not like that.”

“Sounds like it’s like that,” Rac said.

“Shush you. No mocking my sword.”

“I’d never,” Lucy said. “Don’t worry, I’m sure your sword is a lot more impressive than most other swords. It certainly looks a lot bigger.”

“Damnit Lucy.”

“It’s one of those Japanese looking ones,” Rac said. “So it’s probably not good for thrusting.”

“I hate both of you.”

***