Stray Cat Strut

Chapter Forty - Creative Kleptomania

Chapter Forty - Creative Kleptomania

"Samurai technology might very well be the most valuable thing in the world right now. But humanity is catching up. It's not fast, but it's consistent, and the more time we spend breaking down their alien tech, the faster we learn basic principles that will allow humanity to catch up, and eventually surpass, the Protectors.

Just give us a few years, a decade at most, and we will turn this world into a utopia!"

--Professor Henry, MIT, 2031

***

Predictably, the PMCs knew nothing.

In fact, they seemed willfully ignorant. They were not remembering a lot of things, and that was probably my fault.

I had questioned the group together. Once one of them insisted he couldn't even remember how long he'd been working at this location for, or what his hours were like, or how much he was being paid, the others decided to join in on the rapid forgetfulness, especially when it became clear that I wasn't going to shoot them for not giving me the answers I wanted.

It was frustrating, but at the same time, more or less understandable.

They were very insistent that they didn't know what they were defending, and I was even inclined to believe them. Myalis tapped into their augs and was able to confirm that none of them had been any deeper into the warehouse than the first dozen metres past the entrance.

That left one avenue to discover what this place was hiding, and that was checking it out myself.

Of course, I obviously assumed that the place was boobytrapped out the ass. If whomever had set this up could afford private contractors this well-equipped, then they could afford a few grenades and some string, or a few more complex options.

"I don't want to go in there," I admitted to Gomorrah.

She eyed the interior of the warehouse. "I can't pick up any obvious traps. But I also don't have anything designed for picking out traps in the first place, and I don't think traps would set off my thermals."

"So, options?" I asked.

"Get trap-disarming equipment?" Gomorrah proposed.

I took a deep breath, then shook my head. "Expensive, I bet. And I don't have a big supply of fresh points I want to spend on this. The electronics for my augs to see traps might be fairly cheap, but then again, they might not cover everything."

"So we send in some of these PMCs one at a time? We have... a decent number of them."

"Wow," I said. "That's... really fucking cold."

Gomorrah paused, then nodded. "You're right. That is a rather uncharitable way to treat people. And a war crime."

"That's never stopped us, but I'd rather keep the war crimes aimed at the aliens, not... well, these chumps aren't innocent, but they're not exactly evil. If they'd shot Rac up for real, then sure, but they didn't hurt me or mine."

"So we leave this to the professionals?"

I flinched back. "No way," I said. "They'll take forever and we might never learn what's actually going on. Though... Alright, I'm gonna send a cat drone in. It's small, might not trigger every trap, and if it does, then it's a dozen points gone, not a huge deal."

I can get you something simple and disposable for about twenty points. Any lower and its utility would be highly questionable. It's already not going to be very impressive, armed, or capable of long-term operations.

I nodded along. Another point sink, but not a huge one this time. A box appeared next to me, and I popped the top off, aware that Rac's friends and some of the PMCs had frozen up at the sight of the box.

A fat cat ambled out of the box. It was... exactly that. A large, chonky boy of a cat drone. "Myalis, why does this drone look like it needs to go on a diet?"

Cheaper parts are often larger and heavier. This is the price of compromise.

"Huh?" I... decided not to dive into that one. Instead, I lifted the cat drone up while making sure that the fact that it was damned heavy wasn't obvious. I should have lifted with my knees. Bringing it over to the entrance of the warehouse, I set it down, then gestured within. "Go ahead."

Certainly.

The cat strutted in, tail swaying from side to side while its head scanned left and right. At the same time, a small screen opened up on my aug's display, showing me what the chonker could see. I made sure that the screen was shared with Gomorrah.

The outer parts of the warehouse weren't anything too special. There were a few bays to the side for parking their APCs and a few more ordinary vans. Further in was a small maintenance hangar like thing. I guessed that that's where the mecha were parked when they weren't terrorizing local mercs.

There was a small set of rooms to the right, and the cat drone sauntered on over there first. It was a bit of a dead end, though. The rooms had a small office at the front and a decently large break room. There was an air hockey table, a small kitchen, a couple of couches around a small TV. At the back was a locker room with a shower space and some washrooms, and to one side a small room with three bunk beds crammed into it.

So, this was where the PMCs slept and waited when they weren't on duty. The PCs in the office had scrubbed themselves already, but Myalis and Atyacus were able to tell that they were mostly duty rosters and emails from the PMC's headquarters. Everything was encrypted in both directions, but even after poking through, it was all mundane shit.

The most interesting part wasn't in that room.

In the rear-centre of the warehouse was a building set atop a large platform of scaffolds. A few weak lights underneath let us see all the way through, and the rear didn't touch the back wall, nor did the top of this building-in-a-building touch the ceiling.

"That's weird, right?" I asked.

"You mean a decently large building hidden within another so that none of the exterior walls, floors, or ceiling touches anything solid?" Gomorrah asked. "Yes, Cat, that's weird."

I could kind of guess why it was done this way. Rac has mentioned coming up through the floor. This would prevent that entirely, and Myalis said that the outer scaffolds and the metallic netting around them were electrified. Weakly, but enough to create some sort of big signal-fuckering thing.

The only way in was at the front, at the end of a metal ramp that led up to a large bulkhead style door.

I'm going to break through the door's lock now.

I nodded along, then started moving people back and away from the warehouse. I didn't think that it was actually a danger, but... well, better safe than sorry.

The cat stared at the keypad for a good long while before it went green, then the big door slid open.

Inside was... an airlock. The cat stepped in, then waited while it cycled.

I suspect that the gas the room is filled with is lethal to humans. Though it might not be on purpose.

"How's that?" I asked.

I suspect that it's pure nitrogen. But I don't have proper analysis systems on the drone.

"Then what makes you think it's nitrogen?" I asked.

The drone pointedly stared at a large pipe with the word ARGON painted on its side.

"Oh." I scratched at my neck. "Why nitrogen?"

"Argon doesn't react to very much," Gomorrah said. "It's non-flammable, and non-explosive. Probably relatively cheap as well. If you're going to preserve things, then it's maybe not the best choice, but it's not far from it. And it makes the air lethal to breathe, but if it leaks, it won't be that big of a problem as long as there's good ventilation in the space around it."

Well, this operation was looking more and more expensive by the minute.

The inner airlock door opened, and the cat drone walked into a large room that seemed to take up most of the space of this inner building. The cat stopped a few steps in and scanned its head around.

I stared.

The room had a wall covered in cubbies with glass doors. I could see all sorts of random trash in there. The rest of the room was a sort of factory space. Large robotic arms hanging from the ceiling, multiple workstations with more remote-controlled systems. Lots of hanging cameras.

"Myalis, what the hell am I looking at?"

Surprisingly, Gomorrah answered first. "It's a deconstruction space. They're taking things apart."

"Why?" I asked.

I noticed one table had a prosthetic leg on it, held in place between two vices. Small robotic arms were frozen in the act of taking off one of the plastic-like coverings.

It seems as if we've discovered a reverse-engineering lab.

***

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