Chapter Twenty-Seven - Walk the Walk

“Notice: We need new books for the K-2 classes. The phonetic alphabet books we have right now are all animal-based, and the teachers are tired of having to stop every few letters to explain that certain animals (B for bee, C for crab, E for elephant, J for Jaguar, P for Penguin ... etc) no longer exist. It’s causing some of the kids a lot of distress.

Thank you.”

--Notice posted on Teacher Group Chat, 2029

***

I stood there with Intel-chan’s occasional remark and the updating report from the screens for all of five minutes, before I decided that I would be more of a front-line kind of general.

“I really want to be shooting things,” I said. The mobile base was a block away from the front line, not that the antithesis had breached the line just yet. There were more and more of them showing up though, some half melted, dying before they even got close enough to be worth shooting, others looking almost entirely intact. I suspected that we’d missed some chambers and tunnels underground.

Not a big deal, we could stomp them out once they came closer.

The militia were out in full force, which while nice to see, was also a little worrying. What would happen when they tired out? I couldn’t expect to hold them at full attention for hours on end. The volunteers under Lucy were going to take up some of that slack. Already I could see where a number of them were waiting on the front lines, with about half of them holding back for the moment, but they’d tire out too. Probably faster than the militia, really.

Basically, the best case scenario for us was a single, big flood of aliens that led to a single, big fight. If the antithesis decided to turn this into a prolonged siege, then the people working to keep Downtown safe wouldn’t be able to keep up.

We were human. We got tired, hungry, and jittery. Even most companies understood that sixteen hours of constant labour meant a hard decrease in the quality of that labour.

The antithesis didn’t have that concern. Sure, individually I was sure some of them would tire, but it didn’t take a hive sixteen hours to create a fresh batch.

“If you want, you can climb on the roof and shoot at the walls,” Intel-chan said. “We’re only a couple of hundred metres away.”

As if I could land a shot at that kind of range. “Hmm, no, I think I’d rather be close up to the front lines.” I looked at the screen that had... well, calling it troop-movements would be lying since neither side had anything like troops, but it was close enough.

The tide of antithesis was being somewhat agreeable at the moment with the way it lurched towards the most heavily-defended parts of our perimeter.

“Oh hey, the nun’s fighting a model thirteen.”

I whipped my attention around until I found the right screen. It was a screen-camera view of the front. Everything was covered in fire, which was rather predictable with Gomorrah involved. The nun herself was jumping to the side and rolling, showing surprising manoeuvrability for someone wearing a habit.

Ahead of her, half on the wall, was a huge model thirteen, one of those rare aliens with three tubular bodies linked together by long appendages. It was holding itself off the ground with some tentacles while others were moving so quickly the camera had a hard time capturing them as anything but artefacts.

I could see where they hit though. Asphalt cracked and chunks of concrete exploded apart.

Gomorrah returned literal fire, bathing the monster in flames which seemed to make it all the more energetic.

She was good, dodging back and weaving around strikes that I was pretty sure would have splattered me.

The model thirteen slowed, slumped, then fell to the ground, a burning wreck that Gomorrah nonetheless covered in more fuel as if to make sure nothing was left of it but ashes.

“Fuck,” I said.

“Big payday!” Intel-chan said.

“What?”

The anime avatar grinned. “Do you have any idea how rare model thirteen footage is? That’ll be worth a pretty penny for me.”

“You might not be able to spend that pretty penny if there are model thirteens on the battlefield,” I pointed out. “Wait, what are they doing out here?”

The non-traditional structure of the hive, combined with our vector of attack might have moved the model thirteen to search for a threat outside of the hive. They rarely survive long once disconnected from the hive structure, so it’s uncommon to see them on the battlefield. Nonetheless, this battlefield is right atop of the hive itself. We are likely to start seeing more.

And there was no way the normal folk out there were prepared to deal with a double-digit alien.

“Myalis, I need to know where the next one of those will be popping up. I’m going to intercept if I can, and send Gomorrah if I can’t. Maybe... let’s divide the front into thirds? Sandwich Manic between Gomorrah and I.”

The main front was, conveniently, placed along three larger roads that crossed the city from west to east, so we’d basically each get a spot. The mobile base was parked in the middlemost of these, which was fine. Manic was newest, she might need the additional firepower.

I started to walk out. “Intel, you’ve got my number, yeah?”

“I’ve got it!” Intel-chan said with a thumb’s up.

“Keep in touch if anything happens,” I said. I opened a secondary screen in the periphery of my augmented eye and let Myalis play around with it for a bit. Soon enough I had a well-laid out list of statistics, an antithesis heatmap, and the IFFs of all of our troops.

The position of all of the other samurai were there as well, with little logos for all of them, and a big L in a heart for Lucy too.

“Thanks,” I said.

It costs me little and will allow you to make better, more informed choices. Speaking of which, there are a number of things you could purchase to improve the defensive capability at the front.

I nodded along as I slipped through the mobile base, then jumped out of one of its side entrances. It was guarded by a single militiaman who looked like he was a year or two younger than me and who was swimming in his loose uniform.

I hoped that the reason he was back here was because the General was trying to keep his less experienced folk out of the firing line.

“Let’s see how things are going at the front first,” I said. After all, most of the things I could purchase would start working right away, at least if they were things like more cat drones and additional mortars and the like, which is what I suspected Myalis was aiming for.

I walked across the street, noting that it was nearly empty near the barricades but further in, behind some cement half-walls, a number of people were loitering. Most of them had armbands, yellow, brown, green, but a few were just standing around and watching. Were they gawkers?

Some had equipment around, and I caught one group using the first floor of a restaurant as a staging ground for a big community kitchen.

So, we had logistics this close to the front? A few ambulances were sitting idle not too far off, with nervous EMTs (with white and red armbands) standing near.

Catherine. A trio of model fifteens have been sighted heading towards your part of the defences.

Model fifteens... those were the nasty artillery models that could spit out large, explosive seed things that sent fragments all over the place. Not the toughest of the antithesis, but annoying, and they’d force our defenders into cover while the weaker models charged forwards.

“I’m on it,” I said as I picked up the pace.

This wasn’t the time to be strutting around and taking in the sights. I ran through an alleyway, and found it blocked off at the end, which was nice, we didn’t need the aliens slipping around things. Less nice was that I had to jumpjet my way over the obstruction to land on the road I’d be defending for the moment.

At the far end, a pile of debris, old cars, and chunks of metal welded together into the semblance of a wall stood between Downtown and the aliens. A few holes were cut into the defences so that stationary guns could be pointed out through it. Those were rattling already, and I saw a number of people running around with cases full of ammunition while above, one of Gomorrah’s angel-drones spat a line of fire onto what I imagined were some well-cooked aliens.

Yeah, this was more like it. Much more fun than waiting in place and telling people what to do.

***