Chapter Forty-Nine – I’m Cat and You Are Watching Deep Space Ballistics!

Chapter Forty-Nine – I’m Cat and You Are Watching Deep Space Ballistics!

“Today, we’re going to see how these watermelons fare against this discarded samurai railgun we found by the Ohio incursion zone!

Stay tuned!”

–Youtube video transcript, 2032

***

The bomb went off, then, in less time than it took for two neurons to connect, the projectile it launched was ramming into Phobos’ surface.

“Fuck yeah!” I cheered as we got a big-screen view of the strike. Tankette had brought her tank around and installed a little projector on it. Major Tinwhistle had found a large white tarp and had it strung up between two cranes.

Sure, this was probably the kind of shit that ought to be classified or something, but it felt wrong not to have the entire group witness the fruits of their labour.

Engineers were whistling, workers were cheering. Someone had broken open a case of beer and they were being passed around. Another had set up a bar-b-que and cheap hot dogs were being roasted. It made the entire place feel like a party.

It was deserved. These guys and gals had spent hours working on the Big Gun. Without them, this moment wouldn’t be happening. It was a rush job, done with no time to spare. I looked around and saw plenty of baggy eyes and slumped shoulders. These people were exhausted, but they were also happy for the moment. Proud, at least.

I turned my attention back to the projection. Our strike was creating a moving wall of dust and debris away from the point of impact. A small stud of a mushroom that was slowly expanding against whatever gravity Phobos had going for it.

The spots where the Keiretsu nukes had hit had taken hours to clear out, and they’d left a few massive craters behind.

I had to wonder what our hit had done… but not for long, because the screen split and the right side was replaced by a 3D diagram of the moon’s surface. Lots of numbers were thrown up on screen, but it didn’t take a geologist to see the spiralling cracks moving away from the point of impact, or the way our shot had dug a hole right into the moon.

“What’s that bit?” I asked as I pointed up to where it looked like there was a second explosion way deeper in the crust.

I was surrounded by most of the other samurai in our group, but it was Major Tinwhistle that answered. “Spalling,” she said.

Let me draw up some pathing predictions.

New lines appeared, showing where the chunks blown out of the back of the crust would have gone.

“The moon’s surface is tough, like a shell, but the interior is likely all antithesis, with tunnels and structures dug into the moon, but also large roots and veins and arteries as well as organ-like structures within the moon,” Grasshopper said. “We’ve likely done more damage with our one strike than the previous wave of drones managed to accomplish.”

“Damn,” I said. I was feeling a bit of that pride too. It looked like we’d done the equivalent of popping the alien with a small-calibre bullet that broke up inside of them.

Having shot a few bigger aliens with small arms in my day, I knew that it wasn’t nearly enough to bring one down. But it was damage.

Then the diagram view zoomed way, way out, and I got to see the sheer size of Phobos compared to the tiny pinprick we’d stabbed into the moon’s side before the image winked out.

“We shot an elephant with a bb,” Hedgehog said.

“And next we’ll see if we can’t poke a match into the elephant’s hide,” Gomorrah said. “And if that doesn’t do it, we’ll try something else.”

“She’s right,” I said. “Our job isn’t to finish the job, I guess. It’s to keep poking holes, ripping bits off, and slicing off chunks of the moon.”

“The predictions are still in our favour?” he asked.

I shrugged, but Grasshopper confirmed it to me a moment later with a serious nod. “Seems like it.”

Hedgehog seemed a little restless. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot without ever standing still. “Fine. We need to set up a watch rotation on the Big Gun. And we need to set up a continued escort with the rest of the army. People will be asking questions soon, about why the advance has stalled.”

“Yeah. I bet that even with everything we’ve done, there will still be leaks,” I said. “It makes sense to keep a watch going. One or two of us here at all times?”

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“Two is better,” he said. “Some… would consider trying something against a single samurai. Any one of us could be distracted. But two? That’s a much bigger ask.”

“So, who’s available for the watch, then?” I asked.

“I can stay tonight,” Tankette replied.

“I can as well,” Hedgehog said. “Don’t have anything to return to right now, so I might as well.”

“I’ll be staying for a few more hours,” Grasshopper said. “I can set out a small camp. I have a camping supplies catalogue with all sorts of goodies! You’ll feel right at home!”

Major Tinwhistle looked between the lot of us, then shrugged. “I need to get my men moving by morning. But the brass will want to guard this site too. This is a Canadian Army site now, which means that we’re going to have corporate rats sticking their necks in any moment now.”

“We can probably warn them off,” I said. “Maybe have an aug pop-up letting people who come close enough know that this is an area under samurai surveillance.”

“That might just encourage them,” Tinwhistle said. “You’ll be letting them know that there’s something worth investigating.”

“I guess, yeah,” I said. “But if information leaks, then isn’t it too late?”

Gomorrah cleared her throat. “If that’s the case, then we need a distraction. Something plausible. Maybe even something you can build near our site that’ll leak on purpose and which will make the army and us look bad.”

“You wanna make us look bad?” I asked.

“Just to make the attempts to hide what we have more plausible,” Gomorrah said.

Major Tinwhistle nodded. “It’ll have to fit with the equipment we brought over. Maybe… a mass grave? Those always piss off the media.”

That sounded properly messed up. “Okay,” I said. “I guess… dedicate a shift to dig what looks like a mass grave. That’ll be our cover story. Do we need to go deeper? Make up reasons for it?”

“No,” Gomorrah said. “If we don’t have a ready excuse, then those investigating the site will have to do the research themselves, and it’ll lead them nowhere.”

“Okay,” I said. I really wasn’t cut out for this kind of game of deception. “Can I leave that up to you, then?” I asked both women. Gomorrah and the Major both nodded. “Will you be staying overnight too?”

“Not if I can avoid it. I wouldn’t mind coming in first thing in the morning. What about you? First thing in the morning in Catherine time is… around noon?”

“I mean… yeah,” I admitted. I glanced up. It was well past the early evening right now. All of the various attacks we’d launched at Phobos had been nearly an hour apart from each other. The next squeeze from the Collider would probably be in three or so hours, and I bet there were more drones on the way. Our own next strike was only minutes away too. “So, we’re gonna set a clock and fire the Big Gun every time it’s off cooldown?”

“It’s not very hard to automate, everything is there for that already,” Grasshopper said. “I just wanted to make sure that first shot was special.”

“Heh, alright,” I said. I stretched, then looked over the crowd. The party was well underway now. It seemed like all of the tension had drained out of the group and they were celebrating as best they could. Major Tinwhistle was making a concerted effort not to notice the alcohol, or the lingering smell of weed in the air. “Well, in that case, I think I’ll be heading back out.”

Grasshopper giggled. “You might want to catch up to young Miss Raccoon quickly, then,” she said.

I blinked, then looked around again. Wait, where was Rac? For that matter, where was that little Frenchman?

One moment… I have discovered your companions’ location. They’re right over here.

Myalis painted a marker on my vision, one that led quite a ways away from the centre of the camp next to the Big Gun and closer to some of the big machines.

I stomped my way over. If that kid was hurting Rac, I’d smack him around, Samurai or no. Fortunately, as I approached, my ears twitched and I made out the sound of giggling. Rac’s giggling.

When I came around the corner, I half expected to find something inappropriate going on, but they were just sitting next to each other on the tracks of a bulldozer, both with a glass bottle in hand.

“Oh, hey,” I said. Well, shit, way to make myself feel awkward.

***

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