Stray Cat Strut Chapter Thirty-Two - Rathunt

Chapter Thirty-Two - Rathunt

No one wants to live in a gabuilding.

Not like we have any damned choice, so might as well make the best of it, right, you fucking rats?

--Jeffery Whiskers Tablespoon, 2055

***

So, where can I find these... I paused to yawn. Assholes? I was already walking deeper into the building, towards the far end of the square that held our little clinic. I wasnt sure where Id be going, but there were several corridors leading off into the distance so it was a good bet that Id be in this general direction.

Im tracking them now. Unfortunately, there are surprisingly few working caras outside of the market areas.

Myalis opened a little box in the corner of my vision and started playing a video within it. It was the front of the clinic, seen from the corner of a cara.

I turned, matching the angles of what I was seeing until I spotted where the cara had to be. It was hidden behind the signage for a little automated doughnut shop across the square from the clinic.

The video continued to fast forward until it paused on a group of five people standing in front of the clinic. One of them had a crowbar that he was using with expertise to rip the door open.

Why is this kind of footage always a blurry ss? I asked. Its like... can you even buy caras with such shitty quality anymore?

The cara is able to capture much higher fidelity. Its the data-transfer rates for off-site storage that encourage the owners of the security to reduce the quality of their footage.

I shook my head. It made sense, I supposed, but it was still annoying. I watch the five rip into the clinic, then co rushing out with a crate held between them. A sixth mber rushed over pushing a wheeled trash bin, and they dumbed the container with all of our prosthetics into it.

Then the lot of them took off running. Myalis switched caras, and I was able to see which passage they took.

You lost them after this? I asked.

I tracked them down two floors, which brings them close to the floor operated by the so-called Ventrats. There isnt any clear evidence of who committed the cri, however.

The screen split into six, an image of each one of the assholes on each. Myalis added so trics next to the images, heights as compared to the doorway and approximate weight and presented gender. Right, I said as I took them in. there werent any faces. All six of them were wearing full-face masks. Just black disks with holes for eyes with so sort of covering, and most of them had hoodies on over that. We had so skin colour, from two mbers that didnt wear gloves, or who reached up and exposed so stomachs, but that was it.

They were surprisingly clever about this.

I followed the direction theyd run in while pushing their trash bin filled with my shit. Myalis continued to point towards where they went, and soon enough I found myself in a stairwell, walking past graffiti murals that had been there so long they were peeling and stepping over sleeping forms on the steps.

I made it to the right floor, then shoved my way past a pair of guys standing guard at the door. They cursed and looked around, but I wasnt visible, so their search turned up nothing.

This was a residential floor, which ant a square grid of corridors lined with doors that had numbers on them. The Ventrats, as it turned out, werent making much of an effort to hide where they were hanging out.

I found a group of so dozen or so younger people, all dressed in black and frequently wearing plastic rat masks all hanging out in one of the dead-ends to one side of the floor. The walls behind them were covered in images of rats, all done in a sort of cell-shaded style, often with large green pipes.

It was a miracle that a Nintendo hit-squad hadnt wiped them out already.

I slipped between a few of the Ventrats by the entrance of the dead end, then stepped over a few more deeper in that looked like they were knocked out by whatever shit they were plugging into their own veins.

I wasnt surprised by the drugs. I was surprised by the amount. The Ventrats were doing well for themselves. Interestingly, I didnt notice much by way of cybernetics. Maybe one or two eyes, or so costic mods, but no borgs or even a cybernetic arm or leg in sight.

My gaze kept sweeping over the group. Sothing was... off, here. These people looked either sleepy, or just tired. That fit with the hour, I supposed.

Moving deeper into their little corner, I found that the apartnts at the end of the hall had the walls between them ripped out to create a much bigger floor space. That was probably their main hangout. The interior had a few fridges, so couches, and a very expensive entertainnt system pressed up against one wall.

A shirtless man with whiskers tattooed to his face was sitting on a big ass couch, one leg over the arm, a hand resting on a fuck-huge revolver.

That the boss? I asked.

According to his NMPD criminal record, this is Jeffery Whiskers Tablespoon, the leader of the Ventrats.

I blinked. Fucking, Tablespoon?

I didnt pick his na.

I couldnt imagine that Whiskers here picked out his family na either. With a na like that, I might also have considered a life of cri. I kicked his shin, and Whiskers jumped, blinking fast as he took in the room.

Reaching down, I plucked his gun away and tossed it to the far end of the room, then I pulled out my Laser Pointer and aid it at him. He stared at the floating gun, mouth agape, and didnt seem to know what to do about it.

So, in a show of rcy, I uninvisibled myself. Hey, I said.

Who the fuck are you? he asked. He was awake now.

Just the friendly neighbourhood Stray Cat. Wheres my shit, Whiskers?

Whiskers looked around, but his buddies werent as quick to move as he was. He looked for his gun, then started to reach for another gun left on a side table nearby. I poked him in the chest with the end of my rifle. Who are you? he asked as he fell back.

Soone that was woken up at a stupid hour of the morning to deal with your morons. Wheres my shit?

Whiskers fell back into his seat and looked at . Really looked at . Did the seventh-floor fucks send you? he asked.

Hes actually looking you up now.

I squinted. Yeah, his eyes were twitching very slightly in that tell-tale sign that he was using his augs. It was pretty subtle, though. Ah, shit, youre a samurai, he said.

An annoyed one, I said.

It wasnt us, he said.

What wasnt you? I asked.

He swallowed. I dont know, but it wasnt us, he said.

This guy... Look, so punks stole from a clinic a few floors up, one thats under my protection. Give all the shit you stole back, maybe grovel a bit, and this wont end in bloodshed. I really dont want to have to take a shower before getting back to bed, you know?

He nodded, then paused. We really didnt take your shit, though, he said.

Myalis, send him the videos, and that pic I took of the tag they left in the clinic.

Sending.

It took a mont for Whiskers to look over everything, but he was shaking his head halfway through. Thats not us, he said. I know my rats, thats not them. We dont wear that kind of mask. And the tags all wrong. The rat only has one tail, and the pipes the wrong green.

I turned, looked at the nearest wall. There were a few gang tags on it, rats poking out of pipes and tunnels, so rather graphic images of rats doing all sorts of weird shit. They all had two tails. The pipes were all a cartoonish green too. I compared it to the picture Id taken while in the clinic. It didnt quite match, either stylistically, or with the number of tails. Huh, I said.

Its a set-up, he said.

The people that took my shit brought it to this floor.

We only run the east-side. Theres a service elevator on the west-end. They could have gone right through. Wait, here, Im linked into the caras there. We use them to see who cos in.

Whiskers sent a quick link, which would have been exceptionally stupid to open, so I let Myalis play with it.

Interesting.

I pulled back, lowering my gun away from Whiskers chest. Interesting?

Another little box with so footage, this ti of the gate in front of an elevator. The sa six people rushed to it and pulled the gate open, then loaded themselves and that trash bin in. Oh, for fucks sake, I muttered before going invisible again.

This was going to take all damned night, wasnt it?

***