Stray Cat Strut - Volume Eight - Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

***

“If you’re going to make me do your work for you, you’d better have some serious bribes lined up,” I said. “My schedule right now is filled to bursting.”

“So is everyone’s,” Deus Ex said. “But I can sympathize a little. I rarely have a day with fewer than eighteen hours of work time lined up in it. Sundays excepting, of course.”

I wanted to pinch the bridge of my nose. I also wanted to pinch Deus Ex’s chubby little cheeks, but if she didn’t have some sort of pain-regulating cyberware, then I’d eat my hat. I’d have to buy a hat first, but the point stood. “What even is the job?” I asked.

“There are half a dozen new samurai around New Montreal, which is a feat. We usually gain one or two a year, but the global incursion and the previous local incursion increased our numbers substantially. Before you there was Cause Player, and before him Gomorrah. There have been more since. Now, telling samurai what to do is a lost cause. We don’t take well to orders.”

“You don’t say.”

“Let me rephrase that. We don’t take well to orders unless they’re reasonable and backed with a big stick. In this situation we’re both in right now, I am both very reasonable and have a very big stick.”

Could I aim the Big Gun at Deus Ex’s station and get away with it? 

“Right now, with my main body off-planet, the local samurai newbies don’t have any directions to work towards. That has, historically, caused issues.”

I perked up a little at that. “What kinds of issues?”

Deus Ex hummed. “Give someone lots of power, a complete detachment from responsibility, and the drive to act even if there’s no cause for them to act towards, and that person will find something to use their powers on. That usually means massive destabilization. We all hate the corps, but you can only blow up so many skyscrapers before it starts causing issues.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “And we don’t want that?”

“No. The other problem is that new samurai tend to, briefly, believe that they’re immortal or untouchable. Just because higher-tier samurai tend to respond to threats to newbies with violence doesn’t mean that you’re all immune to bullets to the head. Having your death avenged won’t stop you from being dead in the first place.”

That... was fair. “Okay,” I said. “So... what do you want me to do about all of this?”

Deus Ex gestured vaguely off to one side. “Babysit.”

“No,” I said. “I’ve done that for most of my life, and it was for actual babies and kids. I’m not going to do it for adults.”

The little shit had the audacity to roll her eyes. “I meant that figuratively. Really, I just need you to check up on the newbies. Make a point of showing up where they are and make sure they’re not in too much trouble. Maybe direct them towards something constructive to do that won’t get them killed. I did the same for you.”

I blinked. “Wait! You sent me on a wild goose chase all across the city that second time we met,” I said.

“Exactly,” she said with a nod. “It kept you busy and working on something that was relatively low-level. Low-risk work that was still important and gave you valuable experience.”

I was very quickly developing a headache. If I actually thought about it... yeah, Deus had helped me. She’d put Lucy and the kittens up in that hotel we stayed at for a while before getting our house. She gave Gomorrah and I a few softball missions, and then told us about Mars before the news broke to everyone else. 

Fuck, was Deus actually helpful?

“You’d be a lot easier to work with if you weren’t such a pain in the ass,” I said.

“You know, I’ve actually heard something similar before. Never saw the point in complaining about it. I get work done in a rapid and efficient manner. Your whinging changes nothing about that. Besides, what I’m asking you to do is good for you as well.”

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Yes. You’ll be forging alliances and friendships with local samurai who are close to your own rank. You’ve made friends with some that are... to put it lightly, above you. People like Grasshopper and Emoscythe. The cabal of newbies out there will eventually grow as well. It’s a little strange, but we as samurai tend to organize ourselves in little cliques that are more or less generational.”

I sniffed. “You have a generation as well?”

“Yes,” she said. “Though... most of those from this region are dead. It’s only me and maybe four, five others now.”

“Oh,” I said.

Deus Ex blinked, and I got a ping on my Augs. When I opened it, I found a semi-transparent page appearing over my vision, the window floating a few feet ahead. It was a list.

Local Newbies That Need Babysitting

Crackshot Cowboy

Gros Baton

Hedgehog

Princess (Knight)

Shy

Stray Cat

Tankette

“Why am I on that list? Wait, I get Grasshopper and like Emoscythe not needing any help, they’re established and shit, but why isn’t Gomorrah on here? She’s been a samurai for like, a week more than me.”

“She’s mature and capable,” Deus Ex said.

“And I’m not?” I complained.

She just stared.

“Sam-O-Ray and Cause Player don’t need babysitting, even if they're newer. They’ve found their niche and are smart enough not to bite off more than they can chew,” Deus Ex said. “The rest... they’re all over the place. Some need encouragement, some will need to be pointing in a workable direction, others might need to be calmed down and told to chill.” She shrugged.

“You know, I’m not the right kind of person for this,” I said. “Gomorrah would be better. And I’m not just saying that to avoid the work.” That was a nice bonus.

“Yeah, maybe. But Gomorrah isn’t as personable. She might do better with someone like Hedgehog, maybe. He seems like the sort that would take someone serious better, but for the rest? I think you’ll do.”

“I’ve got school,” I said.

“I don’t particularly care,” Deus Ex replied. I wondered if throttling her clone actually hurt the real her? 

I settled for giving her the finger. “Fuck off. I’ve got my own shit going on too.”

“I told you already, I set up a schedule that won’t interfere too much with your stuff. It’s a part-time job at most. And it’s not forever. I’m not dropping all of my responsibilities. When the next generation of samurai show up, I’ll foist them onto someone else.”

“Wow, you are transparent about this, huh?” I asked.

She grinned. “I am nothing if not honest. Anyway, here’s the schedule for the meetings.”

I got another ping, this time a calendar file with dates and times for various meet-ups. It looked like there was one every free day for the next two weeks. 

Including tonight. 

“What the hell? Tonight?” I asked. 

“Did you have anything else planned?” Deus Ex asked.

“Yes! Sex! Lots and lots of it!” I said.

The girl’s nose crinkled. “Disgusting,” she said. “This is a far better use of your time. Besides, aren’t you a lesbian? What’s the point of sex if you can’t even get pregnant from it?”

I paused. “What in the fuck are you on about?” I asked.

“If you just want pleasure, there’s drugs for that,” she said. “Far cleaner and significantly more efficient.”

“Wow,” I said. “I don’t even know where to begin addressing that.”

“You really don’t have to. In fact, I insist that you don’t. I’ve spoken about it at length with my therapist and we’ve come to the mutual understanding that I’m right about it,” she said.

I paused, rocking back for a moment. “I don’t think that’s how therapy works? You’re not meant to convince the therapist of anything. It’s not a game.”

“And that attitude is why I’m always winning and you’re here wasting time with a childless marriage.”

“I’m not actually married,” I said.

Deus Ex stared at me some more. “Wow,” she said, but she said it in a way that was dripping with sarcasm. 

“You are a mean little gremlin child,” I said.

“I’ve been called that too,” Deus said. She sighed. “Sorry. I’ve been... stressed? I tend to default to being somewhat rude when there’s a lot weighing on me. It’s a bad habit, but also one of those that’s turned out to be useful at times.”

And now she was sounding all earnest and real and shit. 

“Heh, you folded so easily,” she said, a smug grin right back in place. “Anyway, tonight you’re working with Shy. Good luck. I’ve got to go. I have more important people to talk to.”

***

Birb Note: Is... DE too much of a gremlin here?