300 Far Future Ch. 10 – Some Backup Requested (1/2)

”-and that's the summary, My Queen. An infestation of Class Three or Class Two, depending on how far and deep it goes. A little bit beyond the hourly you assigned me, and, um, I don't really want to try all those numbers at this time.”

Mr. Personality's pale tan eyes studied mine in the holo, rapidly going over the file I'd sent him. ”I'll send it on up to Juris, and they'll deploy a fire team.” The video certainly would help.

”Make a note that all illumination in the video is under darklight, and it's totally dark from Gloam down there.” Because I was recording the video from what I was seeing via devilsight, like. ”But I smell and I need new clothes, My Queen. I'm gonna go contemplate my navel for a few hours, and then I'll see about tracking down those other two or more packs that came out from this swarm.”

”Juris would like you to stay on station while they assemble a fire team and guide them down.” Meaning stay put, it wasn't actually a request.

My eyes, which were drooping, rose again. This guy definitely knew how to work the system. Then again, Juris didn't get a bomb dropped on them like this all the time, and it was time to have some fun, I guess. ”Uh, if you review my route in and out, there's no way they are going in that way. They'll never fit.”

”Their problem.” And mine.

”Fine. I get overtime, hazard pay, bounty on any kills, a bonus based on eventual size of the hive for discovering it, and someone better bring me a new shirt and pants.”

”I'll put in the paperwork.” And he seemed to be the master of paperwork.

I lolled my head back, and began to zone, ignoring the early morning skulkers throwing looks at me as I sat there on a public bench in the remains of my clothing.

Just another day as a Termite, I grinned to myself. I'd already flipped a bunch of advances when my Renewal came at midnight, so I was doing something right...

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”Miss Sama Rantha?”

I heard the hum come down and pause next to me. I opened my eyes and turned my head, and the snappily-uniformed rider on the hoverbike floating there, the target of a lot of very curious eyes, looked me over in grave interest from behind his visor.

”That would be me,” I agreed with a nod. ”What brings a nice boy like you down from Upspire?”

He grinned despite himself. ”Kapitalist Kourier. Delivery?” He held out a box to me, and his clipboard.

I took them both, stared at the receipt.

Delivery from the Mentat Auction House. One standard-size Klos-Fyt Sym-tactical Masspack; one Psicrystal-intended gemstone, uncut; and one complementary pair of Mentat shirt and pants, thank you for your business.

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I snorted despite myself, thumb-printed, eye-blinked, and it recorded the double verification of delivery. I handed it back. ”Got a card?”

He swiped at his Band, mine blinked, and I looked at Niles Fergal's data. ”Got it. Have a safe trip up.”

”You know it!” He kicked the bike, and it rose straight up into the air towards the hover lane a hundred yards above, where TC took it and yanked it into the flow of traffic smoothly.

Ignoring everyone watching, I slit open the synthi-board box, and lifted out the Masspack.

I'd already verified what was inside as soon as I grabbed it, otherwise I'd've inspected it before I gave him back the receipt. I lifted out the crysmesh of the Masspack, only rated for a hundred pounds of weight offset, but that was enough for me. It was more for the storage room for the homeless girl.

I put my fingers inside, found the shrunken non-living items there, hooked them with my Vajra, and pulled them out.

You didn't fuck with expanded dimensional spaces, as it was an open invitation for the Warp to pop that little bubble of space and reach out and introduce themselves to you... as well as a good chunk of the surrounding area. Shrinking stuff, on the other hand, was a perfectly viable solution, you only need a dash of inertialess to compensate for the weight and mass, which didn't go away, but that wasn't too hard.

I let the shirt fall down... dark navy blue, white lettering around pictures of a brain, front and back, gen-cotton, just an average t-shirt.

Mentats think first, shoot laterandMentats do it in their heads.

Uh-huh...

The pants were synthweave, bleeding off heat, still insulating, and sticking skin-tight as they did so. I lifted an eyebrow at the lettering on the seams on the sides... Mentats follow the lines.

My Queen had a sense of humor, was punishing me, or just had no taste. I couldn't decide which of the three fit. Possibly all three.

I shrugged, tore off my pants with my Vajra while I had the shirt in front of me, and the hot pants slid right up without me laying a finger on them, to the dismay of some of the watchers. My shirt kind of fell away, cut apart in a flash of gold light like the pants, even as I was pulling the new shirt down over my head.

Technically I was perfectly clean due to my Vajra, but I still wanted a bath. Ah well.

I wasn't really wearing shoes, just leather straps which those glancing at would mistake for sandals, as my skin was as hard to punch as metal, and more absorbent... and having improper footwear on would interfere with my lightfoot and my Tremblesense. I didn't normally walk on the ground, per se, so there was no issue with my footprints.

And if I had black goth toenails, I had black goth toenails. I could always paint them.