Nutrient - Value %DV
Calories - 528
Fats - 16.0 g 16%
Saturated Fats - 7.8 g 78%
Trans Fats - 0.7 g
Cholesterol - 3.8 mg
Sodium - 1.52 g 64%
Carbs - 52 g
Net Carbs - 44 g
Fiber - 8 g 32%
Sugar - 24 g
Protein - 45 g
Vitamins and Minerals
Calcium - 400 mg 40%
Choline - 16 mg 4%
Colloidal Silver - 5 g 1000% !!!
Copper - 0 mg 20%
Fluoride - 0 g 100% !!!
Folate - 1.6 mg 400% !!!
Iron - 64 mg 840% !!!
Lead - 1.1 g 500% !!!
Microplastics - 13.9 g 695% !!!
Magnesium - 64 mg 16%
Manganese - 0.4 mg 16%
Niacin - 20 mg 124% !!!
Pantothenic Acid - 0.4 mg 8%
Phosphorus - 160 mg 24%
Potassium - 160 mg 4%
Riboflavin (B2) - 1.6 mg 132% !!!
Vitamin A - 1.2 mg 108% !!!
Vitamin B12 - 0.1 mg 3150% !!!
Vitamin B6 - 4 mg 152% !!!
Vitamin C - 24 mg 28%
Vitamin D - 0.1 mg 700% !!!
Vitamin E - 0.8 mg 4%
Zinc - 16 mg 136% !!!
- Füd B?r nutritional label
***
So I just manage to find a way to feed all my kids with the points I have left, only to find a Model Three staring at us through the polycarbonate windows of the cafeteria.
“Well. That’s not good.”
You could say that. This is why most AI recommend their Samurai retain an emergency point stockpile.
“Yeah, you mentioned something about an emergency medical fund. Any reason you didn’t insist?”
I get the strong impression Chyrl would be rolling her eyes at me if she had them. Would you have changed your actions in the slightest?
“Well, no, but you could be all ‘I told you so’ right now.”
And would that endear me to you?
My lips curve into a rueful grin. “Okay, okay, you’re smarter than me.” I stop muttering to Chyrl and raise my voice so the whole Cafeteria can hear me. “Everybody, I want you to slowly back away to the exits, then get back to the shelter. Take your food and containers with you, they might come in handy. Dunno how long you’ll have to be in there, either.”
“What are you gonna do, Miss Jackie?”
I turn my grin on Willy. “Figure something out, like I always do.”
He nods, returns my smile, and hands me his pistol as he goes past. I don’t even bother to argue, he’s already got his crowbar out and he’s edging forward to lead the group heading out the cafeteria entrance. DeJuan leads the other group, a knife in each hand. I smile as I notice that the big knife he carries on his hip is still there; the ones in his hands are simple lengths of sharpened steel, no fancy curves or extra weird pointy bits. Another couple gang members, younger kids who don’t attend the school regularly enough for me to know their names, join each of them, spacing themselves through the line of kids.
The polycarbonate makes its big wobbly noise as the Model three thumps into it again, scratching at it. I look over to see it moving toward one end of the window.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Oh, no you don’t!” I holler, then leap toward it, getting right up on the far side of the window, waving my arms. It goes into a frenzy, scratching at the window and hammering its head into it. I get to see all of it right in my face, since the base of the window is like halfway up the wall, at ground level outside. The school’s built into a hill, so the cafeteria is half underground.
Why don’t you just shoot it?
I shrug as I keep waving my arms to keep the thing’s attention. “Windows are bulletproof. Well, highly bullet resistant. Part of a big push to make the school ‘safer’ and ‘modern’ back in the late twenties.”
After a minute, I look around; everybody but me has evacuated the caf. The moment I take my eyes off it, the Model Three lunges again, filling the room with that big wobbly bong sound again. I look back at it, idly wondering when the cavalry’s gonna show up and shoot this thing.
Then I remember. I’m the cavalry. I’m the Samurai. Probably the only one in Camden, maybe the only one in Philly, too. There used to be one, but that was way back; he started up before I was born, and left when I was little. Died, moved on to bigger and better things, no idea what, but he’s not here.
But now that I think about it, I remember that there is another Samurai in Camden, even if from what I remember she’s hidden in a hole in the ground over by the docks.
“Hey, Chyrl? Have we got Lab Jack It’s contact info?”
I can send Mych your information and ask her to contact you.
“Please?”
A few moments later my new augs ping, and when I accept the connection, Lab Jack It starts speaking before I can even say hello. “I’m a little tied up at the moment. What did you need?”
I suppose we do only know each other because we’re Samurai. “There’s a Model Three trying to get into the school?”
“You’ve got access to my Catalogs. You out of points already?”
“Uh… kinda?”
“How do you even run out of points? Do you need a gun? Bullets?”
I realize right then that I’ve still got WIlly’s pistol tucked into my pocket. “Nah. Thanks, I forgot about that. Sorry to bother you.”
She kills the call the moment I say ‘sorry’. I stuff the rest of my faux Füd B?r into my mouth, then mutter out, “so how do I get rid of this thing?”
Chyrl paused slightly before answering. How experienced are you with handguns?
“Uh, you point them at something and pull the trigger?”
Well. I suppose there are worse… what are you doing?
I stop mid-pose, holding the gun like one of the gang members with the grip turned sideways. “Uh… isn’t that how you’re supposed to use a gun?”
Never mind then. She projects an image of somebody standing with their feet shoulder width apart, holding a gun out in front of them. I copy that pose, and the Model Three goes into a bit of a frenzy as I point the gun at it. Still not getting through the window, though. Not any time soon, at least.
“This feels so dorky.”
Possibly, but it also keeps you from breaking your wrists. Not to mention helping you hit your target.
“Dorky’s good. I can live with dorky. Um… I’m really not eager to open one of the side doors,” I nod to the doors at one end of the windows, ”to let that thing in. Or for me to get out to shoot it.”
Do you know where there’s a roof access?
I nod, remember she can’t see me, and say, “Yeah.” Then I get a bright idea. “Oh, hey, do you think I could maybe lure this thing away from the school a little bit?”
I can tell when you nod, Jackie. I have access to all your sensory data. As for luring it away, the only things that attract Antithesis are biomass and non-biomass objects which actively attack them.
“Huh. So food, or maybe drones or androids?”
Exactly.
I think for a few seconds, then realize exactly what I need to do. First I back slowly away, headed for the door into the south door into the hallway. The Model three tracks me the whole way, scrabbling and smashing it’s head into the polycarbonate the whole time. Just as I move to where I can’t see it, and it can’t see me, another one joins it.
“Yeah, hope that one doesn’t get too many buddies. One or two the window should hold, but a dozen of them it might not.”
I sprint up the steps, then down the hallway, wincing when I realize the windows in the breezeway still haven’t been replaced, and a Model One could fly in at any moment. I try to crouch while running, and manage to avoid falling over until I’m through the breezeway. I hop down another flight of steps, ignoring whatever’s banging against the emergency doors. Those things got welded shut way before I was born, ain’t nobody getting those open any time soon.
I get to my room, grab a fresh pair of emergency hammers and my two wheeled dolly. I slip the dolly under a full box of Füd B?rs and wheel it up the steps, back to the breezeway, and duck as a Model One comes flying at my face. It smacks into the wall, and without thinking I turn and hammer the spiked end of my hammer into it.
Target Eliminated!
Reward... 1 Point
I sprint across the breezeway again, then to the classroom in the very middle of the hallway, the old dolly rattling along in front of me as I do. A few seconds work and I’m in the room, a bit more and the window’s open, leaving a five foot drop to the roof of the cafeteria.
Don’t tell me this is the only roof access?
“Nah,” I whisper. “It’s just the only one that I can drop down instead of having to climb up.” I stop for a second. “Sugar honey iced tea.”
What’s wrong?
“How well can Antithesis hear things?”
Chyrl makes a kind of humming noise inside my brain. That depends entirely on the Model, but so far we’ve only seen very basic Models around here. Better than a human, but not all that much. Why?
“‘Cause if I drop this out the window, it’s gonna make a huge racket when it hits the roof.”
You could try lowering it with the dolly?
“I’m not sure if I’m strong enough for that. Besides, even odds it just tips off the front and makes noise anyhow.”
Chyrl sighs. I could get you some rope?
I think about that for a half second. “Can you get bungee cords?” When she makes an affirmative noise, I say, “okay then, gimme some bungee cords.”
New Purchase: Class 0 bungee cords, varying sizes
Points reduced to... 1
A surprisingly large Protector case with my paired spatula symbol pops into existence next to me, almost the size of my box of Füd B?rs. I pop the top, and there’s a whole variety pack of cords inside. “That’s a lot of bungee cords.”
That is, in fact, one point of Earth-make economy bungee cords. You ought not trust your life to them, but they should bind the box to the dolly well enough. She pauses. Before you begin working with them, you might want to put your hood and gloves on.
“Gloves?”
Check your pockets.
I dig into my pockets and find a set of gloves the same color as my jumpsuit. What with intending to go outside, I pull my face mask down over my face, then reach around and pull the hood of my jumpsuit over my head. I snug it down until only my face mask and integral shades are exposed, then slip the gloves on. They’ve got snug elastic at the wrists, just like the jumpsuit itself. I’m not sure, but I think they kinda slip together, almost like they’ve got magnets in them or something.
“Chyrl?”
Yes, Jackie?
“Did my jumpsuit just seal itself?”
You don’t think I spent multiple hundred points on a bodysuit for you and only got you a comfy jogging outfit, did you?
As I start wrapping the bungee cords around the box, hooking them to the dolly to keep them in place, I ask, “it’s airtight?”
Obviously not, since you have a breathing mask, but that mask is the only place where air goes in or out. It will also wick liquid away from your skin and allow it to dissipate into the atmosphere through the fabric at your wrists, but only when the gloves are off.
“Fancy.”
Since you seem to enjoy running as a hobby, which is far more exercise than some Vanguard take, I thought it best to encourage that. Also, being sealed means Antithesis cannot detect or track you by scent.
“Nice. Thanks.”
De nada. I think it’s secure now?
I put another pair of cords around the box, just to be sure, then look at the window, which is a couple feet above the floor. After thinking for a moment I flip a couple chairs over to use the backs as ramps. It’s not the most elegant solution, but a minute later I have the wheels of the dolly out the window. Despite the best efforts of the dolly and box to pull me out the window, I manage to slowly roll it down the wall until the wheels touch the roof.
Which is right when something thumps into the side of the box hard enough to knock it over. Before I can think I slip out the window feet first, wincing as an ugly crunch comes from under my feet.
Target Eliminated!
Reward... 1 Point
I look down to see the remains of a Model One stuck into the box and stuck to my running foot. I quietly say, “tell me you got me some kinda special feet, too?”
Hardly. Simply the best Earth tech feet of that variety. Were I to get you prosthetics equivalent to your jumpsuit, you would have realized long since.
I shrug and whisper, “okay, fair.”
A few moments of careful work extricates the Model One corpse from my foot and the box. At a loss of what to do with it, I lean into the room and yeet it at the box of bungee cords hard enough to flop the lid closed.
You’ll have to deal with that eventually.
“Yeah, but for now if it’s only mostly dead, it’s stuck in a box, and it’s not stinking up the roof.”
Fair point. It’s also not exuding pheromones to attract other Antithesis.
“Good to know,” I say as I carefully, quietly pull the dolly over to the edge of the roof, wincing at each quiet squeak. When I get within a few yards of the edge, I notice a Model Three in the park across the street and crouch, hoping it hasn’t seen me. The polycarbonate window below me letting out a double wobbling bong every few seconds, I lay the dolly down, slip the bungee cords off the box, and open it, revealing a couple dozen shelf displays of Füd B?rs. I grab one, totally getting ‘Extreme Fiesta’ at random and not because it’s my least favorite flavor.
I slip up to the edge, peek over to see the two Model threes still growling and scratching at the armored window, then pull out a Füd B?r and yeet it as far away from the building as I can. It lands in the middle of the street, a solid forty or fifty feet from the edge of the building. The rhythmic polycarbonate percussion pauses, then starts up again.
“Huh?” I peek out again, and neither Model three has taken the bait. Maybe it’s too far away. I pull another Füd B?r out and throw it at the near side of the street. Another pause, but no joy. “Why?”
Perhaps the wrappers on the B?rs are keeping the food scent contained?
I shrug, grab another Füd B?r, and pull the wrapper off before tossing it at the hole through the fence. This time the pause is longer, and when the percussion starts up again, it’s moved a little bit to the side, not directly in line with the hole in the fence. It’s also a little faster, more of a triple beat than a double. I peek over, and both Model threes have moved along the window to where a third has joined them.
I pull back. “Why haven’t they spotted me yet?” I whisper.
Along with eliminating scent trace, your jumpsuit has very simplistic optical camouflage, specifically in the wavelengths of light Antithesis use for vision. So far, since they’ve seen nor smelled nothing up here, they’re just trying to get to the last place they saw moving biomass.
“Handy.” I pull the wrapper off the next Füd B?r, then empty both its flavor packet and the packet from the B?r I tossed at the fence all over it. I lean over, hoping my camouflage suit will keep them from noticing me, and lob the extra flavored Füd B?r right in the middle of them, hoping that if I can get them to eat one, they’ll maybe follow a trail of them away from the school. At least as far as I can throw them.
The Füd B?r bounces off the head of one of the Model threes as it pulls back, and the thing goes a little berserk, like it’s trying to claw its own head off. “Yeah,” I whisper in sympathy, “Extreme Fiesta do be like that.”
In its panicked attempts to get the Füd B?r smeared across its face off, the thing headbutts one of the other Model threes, which lashes out, grabbing the Füd B?r enhanced Model three’s head in its jaws and biting hard. A sickening crunch echoes through the street.
Target Eliminated!
Reward... 10 Points
“Shit, that’s a whole day’s points right there.”
It is.
I pull Willie’s pistol out of my belt, taking it in a two handed grip and leaning out to see if I can shoot one of the Model threes before they notice me. The alien that offed its partner and got me points by doing so is lying on its side, clawing at its mouth with both front and back legs. I don’t see the other one until the sound of something climbing the fence catches my attention. I turn just in time to see the third Model three leap from the top of the fence toward the edge of the roof.
Without thinking about it, I twist around and pull the trigger. Chyrl was right, I definitely do not want to try to fire even a little pistol like this one handed. I’m not sure where I hit it, but it jerks in midair, and almost falls short of the roof. As it scrabbles to try to get on the roof, I line up on its paws, and the moment it pokes its head over the edge of the roof I pull the trigger again. It jerks again, then slides off the roof, landing with a crunch and a waft of something that smells almost like fake avocado.
Target Eliminated!
Reward... 10 Points
When I lean over the edge of the roof, the other Model three has ripped its own jaw off and is scraping at the roof of its mouth. I take careful aim and fire one more time. Then I do that again, since my ‘careful aim’ wasn’t good enough. Finally, I walk over to stand directly above it, aim downward, and Willie’s last bullet goes right into what passes for its braincase.
Target Eliminated!
Reward... 10 Points
As I slip the gun back in the waistband of my jumpsuit, Chyrl shouts, look out! Into my ear. I leap backwards just in time for the Model one that would have brained me to hit my arm instead. My arm hurts like a bitch, almost like the time a kid wound up and punched me in that spot, but the Model one is lying on the ground trying to right itself. I grab one of my hammers, leap over, and bring it down on top of the thing. Another couple swings and it’s down.
Target Eliminated!
Reward... 1 Points
“Y’know, that’s getting kinda…” I’m interrupted by a series of impacts on my back, and one to the side of my head. I scream and throw myself backwards to land on the thing I can feel scrabbling at my back. It crunches and squishes, and if I feel like I just laid down on something the size and stiffness of my facemask, I think I’m bruised, not really injured.
Target Eliminated!
Reward... 1 Points
“Interrupting!” I roll over and look to see three more Model ones crawling toward me like creepy little winged demons. Both hammers out now, I smash each of them until they stop moving. One of them manages to get its jaws around my jumpsuit, but I punch a hole through its body big enough to convince it to stop that shit before it breaks the skin.
May I?
“Go ahead,” I groan.
Targets Eliminated!
Reward... 3 Points
On the one hand, I’m not unhappy about getting enough points to feed the school for another few days, or even a stockpile to save up for my Cooking Implements Catalog. On the other hand, she does not need to sound quite that chipper when I’ve just had the snot beat out of me by a bunch of chihuahua sized hunks of flying greenery.
Catalogs unlocked:
Class I Medical Utilities
Class I Minor Cooking Implements
Gear:
Class 0 Racing Prosthetics
Mark I Omni-Protective Bodysuit
Mark I Experimental Scientific Augmentation Package
Mark I Experimental Medical Scanner
Propane (and propane accessory)
Chyrl’s Cookbook Collection
Class 0 bungee cords, varying sizes
Points: 37