Stray Cat Strut

Chapter Nine – Sweet Schemes Are Made of This



Chapter Nine - Sweet Schemes Are Made of This

"Cringe."

--the President of the United States, 2028

***

Class let up, and I took my sweet time making my way out. The prof, Rogers, actually came up to me and asked me if the lesson was to my liking and... yeah, it kind of was.

It was a bit more philosophy over more practical shit, but I could see how that kind of way of thinking might actually apply to a battlefield. "I liked it," I said. "Not sure I'd want day-after-day of philosophy, though."

"That's fine," he said. "We'll likely be alternating between more philosophical approaches to tactics, actual physical education classes which will eventually include live combat simulation, and also some historical study, both of more modern battles and of some older ones from centuries prior." He smiled, a little smugly. "It's rare to find someone who isn't interested in history when you're looking at the most interesting parts of it."

"The big battles, you mean?" I asked.

"Exactly," he said with a nod. "Something about an ancient siege stirs the blood."

I decided that I liked Professor Rogers. He knew what good, sensible people liked.

"If you want, we could dissect some of the battles you were in," he offered. "It could be interesting, especially since we have you here to corroborate some of the tactical choices made moment-by-moment."

I decided that I disliked Professor Rogers. He didn't know what was good for him.

"Nah, I'd rather not. I'm not a tactical genius and I'd rather, uh, study better cases than my own," I said. "Anyway, I'mma head on out. See you around."

I scooted on out of there soon after. Almost as soon as I was out of the class, I felt my unfortunate shadow slot into place next to me. Olivia, with her supplies hugged close to her chest. "Did you enjoy your first class at CIAL?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," I said. "One sec, I need to text someone."

I texted Lucy a quick 'Where's your 🍑 at?' and her reply was a quick eye roll, followed by saying she was at the mecha carrier, showing off the MEOW. The fat armoured mech which should have been sitting pretty inside of the Bastion.

She didn't say who she was even showing it off to to begin with.

It was probably telling that I knew that Lucy was up to something from a one-line exchange and that had me walking a bit faster. Olivia started to jog to keep up, then I started to run, and I could hear her starting to pant as she kept up.

"Miss... Cat, why are we running?"

"My girlfriend was left unsupervised with weapons of mass destruction again," I said. "There's a very real chance that she's trying to start a cult. Again."

"Again?" Olivia asked. "Wait, cults are against school rules unless sanctioned beforehand!"

I frowned and slowed my run down to a calmer jog. I probably didn't need to rush that much. "Olivia, you know that the rules are made up and laws don't matter, right? They're like, some autistic guy's idea of writing down all of the little shit society does to not be a bag of dicks, but written down. Then a thousand years go by and now everyone thinks that words on paper are like, holy and unbreakable or something. But you can

 punch a cop. They have noses and everything, and they're usually just standing there."

Olivia's mouth worked, and I suspected that I broke her a little because it took her a while to reply. "The samurai truly have an interesting view on how society functions," Olivia said.

I shook my head. This was the problem with talking to folks stuck in their ways. You could point out the truth to them but the bit of their brain primed to make up excuses was faster than the one made for realizing they were dead wrong.

She'd probably grow out of it, one day. Like someone growing out of being religious or something. Or she wouldn't, and she'd cling to it to the end. I didn't really care either way, because she wasn't pissing in my cereal.

We made it across the campus in good-enough time, but it was clear as we were nearing the big plaza in the middle that there was some shit going down.

People were moving centre-wards more than away, and the closer we came, the more people were moving in that direction. What was just a few dozen was a few hundred before long.

For some reason a lot of people were posing with cookies? Making silly faces while their friends looked at them in that way that came with using one's augs to take a picture. Some had smartphones out too, or even actual digital cameras.

The plaza itself was full. There was a crowd of people around the Bastion. Fortunately not right up against it, because the PD guns weren't going off, but they were close enough that it was clear they weren't worried. Some white fold-out tables were set up as barriers, and it looked like they had something on them recently.

There was a weird, festive feeling to the place. It reminded me of how some mega buildings would sometimes suddenly throw a big party for no apparent reason and it would get out of hand. Someone's birthday bash turning into a whole-building thing as people let off steam.

Lucy was probably to blame for this.

I found her standing next to my mech, which was in turn standing outside of its bay, chest puffed out and holding itself in a big, tough-guy kind of stance. The MEOW was meant to take a shitload of abuse and give some back with the turreted cannon on its back.

Right now, it looked like it was being used as a prop for people to take selfies next to.

All the while, Lucy was standing a few metres away, grinning like the kitten that had stuffed its face in the cream. Then she saw me through the crowd, somehow picking me out despite there being a hundred others around, and if anything, her grin only grew smug-er.

"How did you pilot the mech out of its bay?" I asked as I came up to her and casually wrapped my arms around her waist.

Lucy laughed. "It piloted itself," she said. "I just had to ask nicely."

"Uh-huh," I said. "And is there someone you forgot to ask, while you were asking nicely?"

"Hmm?" Lucy hummed. She tilted her head to the side cutely and made a big show of thinking about it. "Maybe? Can't have been someone too important."

"Oh?" I asked as I squeezed her a little closer. "Not important, am I?"

Lucy giggled, and the sound made my heart flutter. "Sorry! I should probably have asked, but Myalis offered and I figured it wasn't a big deal? Are you upset?"

"Not really," I said. It wasn't like I was purposefully keeping the MEOW hidden or anything. "But ask anyway, next time you do something like this, just in case? Speaking of... what is this?"

"Oh! Right! I saved one for you!"

Lucy squirmed out of my hug and ran into the Bastion where she picked something up just inside. She returned with a small tupperware container that she opened to reveal... a spectacularly ugly cat-shaped cupcake next to a cookie with... smudged frosting on it.

"They're both kitty shaped!"

"Are they?" I asked.

"Hey! I worked hard on them," she protested. "I subhorned my cooking class and convinced them to bake stuff to give away. Then we did a whole... meet and greet kind of thing? But like, way less official. People took pics with the MEOW and have been hanging out here for like, the past hour."

"Alright," I said. "But why?"

"Eh, mostly I wanted to see how quickly I could get the class on my side," Lucy said with a grin. "Plus it's really pissing off the school, which I think is funny because isn't this exactly the kind of thing they wanted? Just without forms filled in triplicate first."

"They're going to label you as a troublemaker," I said.

"Oh no," Lucy replied with the fakest gasp. "Whatever shall I do? Will I have to be punished? I'm not sure if I'm ready for that part of the school girl experience."

"I don't think it counts if you're enjoying it," I said. "Do you think we can head out, or do you need more time to scheme?"

Lucy considered it, then pushed the box closer. "Give me until you're done with these? I've got to shake a few hands and play stupid in front of a few people, then we can head out!"

Well, if I was getting free food out of it, I wasn't going to be inclined to say no.

***

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