Chapter Two – It Doesn’t Say No Parking

“In the sprawling metropolises of 2152, the Parking Enforcement Authority wields power rivaling the megacorporations themselves. Equipped with drone fleets, AI surveillance, and jurisdiction over the most valuable commodity—space—they issue fines that bankrupt families and impound vehicles with surgical precision. No one dares contest their authority; to cross them is to risk social credit annihilation and permanent vehicular exile. In a world of endless expansion, their control over where you stop determines if you can ever go.

Starring AI recreations of Humphrey Bogart, Katharine Hepburn, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Scarlett Johansson!”

–Trailer for Post-post-post Cyberpunk movie: the Car Cop, coming to theaters June 2057

***

There was a problem that I hadn’t considered when I bought the Bastion and that was that the damned thing was fucking enormous.

Being big was mostly a feature. It was a transport, and its largeness meant I could fill it with several tons of angry warmech. That was cool as fuck.

What wasn’t as cool was trying to find parking.

“C’mon, there’s not a single open space?” I complained as I flew a third slow circle around the parking building on the edge of the campus.

The CIAL campus was a city. A small one, but a city all the same. It was just to the west of New Montreal, with the Saint-Louis between the campus and the massive metal pillars holding up the plates that New Montreal sat on. There were a few bridges across, and some of New Montreal spilled out on this side of those bridges, but for the most part, the campus was its own thing.

That meant several hundred large buildings set up in neat, corded rows, then a larger, proper campus with a dozen more buildings that couldn’t stick to a single style. They were mostly all glass and steel, with gardens around them and lots of walking space, but some of them were a little more post-post modern, looking like abstract bunkers.

Very cool and all, and probably inspirational to the sheep that went to class in one of those every day, but not at all helpful with my current issue.

“Can we leave the Bastion hovering?” Lucy asked.

“I mean, I guess, but I don’t want to,” I said.

Then I shrugged and pulled up and away from the parking building. The roof was covered in cars, which left no room to park in, but mostly I was concerned that the Bastion was a smidge too heavy.

Turning the ship around, I drove it out towards the central campus, then reached out and pulled the lever to unfold the landing legs.

I lowered the ship down gently, and came to a careful landing.

I was pretty sure I’d just parked between a massive library and the school’s administrative building.

Part of me hoped that I wasn’t accidentally sending a message by placing an obviously dangerous vehicle right in front of the skyscraper that served as the school’s admin building, but if they decided to read into it, that was on them.

“Cat!” Lucy complained. “There are paving stones out there. You’ll crack them.”

“I mean… it’s a bit late to complain? We’ve landed already,” I said. “Besides, if they didn’t want me parking here, they could have put up a no-parking sign.”

Lucy shook her head, but unbuckled herself all the same. “Sec,” she said after standing up. A few seconds later, she nodded. “Sent a text to the vice principal. Not that I think he’ll need it.”

“Yeah, I bet,” I said. I paused to look at the screen. The space I parked in was a large plaza ringed by those fancy school buildings. It was pretty much clear of cars, though there was a tram going by. I double-checked to make sure I wasn’t parked on a tram-line, but it seemed like we were safe.

I was pretty sure that if it came to it, the Bastion

would win in a head-on collision with a train, let alone a tram, but I didn’t wanna risk it anyway.

I shrugged, then picked up my jacket on the way out of the cockpit–or was it a bridge if it was large enough to stand in?–and slung it on before catching up to Lucy by the side entrance. “Ready?” I asked.

“Yup!” she said. “You know, you’re not allowed to bring guns onto campus.”

“I… parked a tank here, you think they’re gonna freak out about a couple of guns?” I asked. I wasn’t even going in with that much. I had my Laser Pointer, a compact bullpup SMG slung down by the small of my back, and my Trenchmaker was tucked in a thigh holster by my side.

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Oh, and I had a few grenades in my coat pockets, but whatever.

The door opened and fresh, cold air swept into the Bastion. Lucy laughed as the wind whipped around us, but the pressure soon equalized and I hopped out ahead of her, then reached back to help her down the slight ramp.

We were being stared at, which I figured wasn’t too surprising. A lot of people were moving around on foot, or riding these little motorized bike things around at a pace not much faster than walking.

“Oh, uniforms,” Lucy said.

“Yeah,” I replied. The school, university, whatever, had a uniform. It seemed somewhat lax. Black and red and white were the colours of the day, and it looked like the students either had their pick from a selection of coats and pants and skirts and blouses, or there was some sort of hierarchy that I wasn’t aware of in how they dressed.

“So, did your guy tell you where to go from here?” I asked.

Lucy snorted. “My guy has just replied to my text. He asked me where we parked, said a shuttle was on its way to ferry us over, and then said ‘nevermind.’ I think we caught him off-guard.”

I shrugged. So, we were off to a great start, then? Keeping paperpushers off their toes was the best way to handle them.

“Oh, there he is!” Lucy said.

I turned and followed her gaze to the admin building. It was a skyscraper, or what might have passed for one a hundred years ago. Thirty floors, mostly glass, and with a sort of massive tear-drop shape. The front doors were opened at the moment, and a skinny man was jogging out accompanied by two others who were obviously guards, and what looked like an aid.

The man was a thirty-something sort, maybe forty? With that kind of super-thick hair that only came from people who had implanted fake hair in to cover up a balding patch. His suit was white, with a thin red trim along the edges of the cuffs and lapel and with the CIAL logo proudly pinned to his tie. “Samurai Stray Cat, I presume,” he said as he slowed down. He was a little out of breath, but not too badly so. “And Miss Lucy Leblanc, I’m happy to see you.”

“Huh?” I asked.

Lucy glanced at me from the corner of her eye and grinned.

That… that was my family name, not hers. I glanced away and tried not to allow myself to blush.

“Hi! You’ve got to be Vice Principal Imgreen,” she said while extending a hand to shake.

The vice principal shook, then he looked at me, flushed a little, and just bobbed his head in something like a nervous bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. When I heard that there was even the faintest potential for us to have a samurai student, why, I was overjoyed.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Of course! It would be the third time in CIAL’s history that an alumni of the university becomes a samurai,” he said.

That was… actually, kind of a lot? Samurai weren’t exactly growing on trees. There were maybe a couple million of us on Earth? I wasn’t sure about raw numbers, but for more than one to come from the same school was pretty big. Not like, statistically impossible or anything, but still, a lot.

“That’s cool,” I said. “I’ll have to look into them.”

“Ah, yes,” he replied with a grin that looked as fake as his hair.

The vanguard in question have passed away. The most recent one in 2044. Only one of them was actively a student of this school when they were chosen to become a Vanguard. The other had left the academic lifestyle some time prior and is only considered an alumni post-mortem.

Now that was appropriately dark and kinda fucked up. It was a little weird that it reassured me.

“Please, follow me, I’ll show you around the campus. Ah, you may leave your… vehicle parked where it is, of course. We can assign some campus police to watch over it.”

“Nah, that’s fine. It’s got point-defence weapons,” I said.

The explanation didn’t seem to reassure the poor guy, and I think that Lucy caught on because she was holding back giggles.

“Anyway, show us this campus of yours. I think Lucy’s interested in your… cooking classes? What’s different about cooking classes at a university compared to like, at a community centre anyway?”

The vice principal’s mouth worked, but he rallied and was soon going on a spiel that I had a hard time caring about.

The things I did for love.

***

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep