The Market

I lasted three hours assisting Cheeseburger before calling it a day. The bodies inside the pantry continued to weigh on my conscience. I knew it wasn't my fault. Nova, Father Alcor, Command, and even the old lady on the train told me the same thing. Yet my thoughts would not settle. I had half a mind to cancel Command's invite and go home, but I knew spending more time inside my head would be the worst possible thing I could do now.

That, and it would be wise not to upset the one who could throttle Cerviel's power core.

The clock said forty-five minutes remained until I would meet Command at Rockgut. It gave me some time to stroll through the market. Command would probably be five or ten minutes late if I knew her well enough. "Punctuality begins and ends with work" was one of her favorite sayings.

The doors pinged as the tram rolled into the station. Several scavengers joined me in our walk toward the tram's door. A few gave me a knowing look as we stepped off. Only those who worked the rubble, not knowing whether they'd find life or death, understood the meaning behind it.

Once the doors shut behind me, I felt the soft tug in the airflow as the tram sped toward its next destination. Some pedestrians idled around the large building I was heading to. I saw the words "Palic Mall" written on the glass doors as I stepped inside.

Visiting the mall a year ago could be quite the event. Stalls lining its halls sold anything from food to trinkets. Depending on the day, you might find a musician or comedian drawing the crowd to a random corner while little kids delighted in hovering trams traversing the halls. Little of this glory remained. More than one light flickered its dying breath as frosted walls and shuttered entrances lined the corridors. Hopes of profit were long gone. Most businesses had shuttered their storefronts in hopes of protecting what they had. Those who remained open did so out of kindness instead of opportunity. Both bored staff and diminishing clientele were on a first-name basis now. I spied more than one cashier with their faces in their display as they relaxed with their feet on the counter. Nobody would complain. The exchange of money was purely ceremonial by this point. It was little more than trying to keep up a pretense of normality. It was not odd for a shopper to leave with some groceries without being asked to pay. Odds were good they would be able to in the first place.

At least the robots still kept the floor clean. I've never seen it shinier.

"Repent, you heathens!"

Not again.

The halls carried the voice well. I knew only one person who would get on his soapbox like that. While not the intention, Father Alcor's enthusiasm could get him carried away. One would have ended in a riot had Nova not interfered.

"God accepts all who ask for His grace. Accept Him into your hearts before the demons take it away." Father Alcor came into view as I walked around a corner. While it might not have been a soapbox, he stood on a box covered in black cloth while preaching to an audience of mostly empty chairs. I counted ten heads in the audience.

"You talk big, old man," said a guy wearing a white shirt from within the audience. "If your god is filled with kindness and all things good, then why would he let all of this happen?"

"Because you damn heathens have turned away in the first place!" Father Alcor practically spat back. "The Lord will lead His flock. If the fucking flock does not listen, then it must be punished!"

Swearing, Father? I grinned to myself. Nova wouldn't let you hear the end of it if he was here.

"Then why bring us to this forsaken planet only to have us slaughtered?"

"They would have arrived regardless of where we were. Their coming was foretold thousands of years ago, written by prophets of the very deity you question! The Lord has repeatedly warned of their arrival. Failure to prevent for their arrival lies with the one who did not listen!"

"Ancient stories, old man? You base your facts on ancient myths. What's next? Proclaiming the patience of Saintess Snow White while advising we wait for somebody to rescue us?" The man scoffed. "These things are an invading alien race. We don't need mythical gods or demons to fight them back, only the power of man!"

"Woe befall those who do not seek help from their Savior!"

"There is no mythical savior to ask help from!"

"And that's why we're in this damn situation!" Father Alcor's face was turning slightly redder. "We can be saved if you damn heathens would just repent!"

"Only more Angels can save us. Not your stories!"

"More?! We had seventeen Angels when the demons first attacked. They were a fraction in the strength of what it is now, and still, they're decimating us!"

"We didn't know how the enemy fought at the time. Now we know, and Nova and Vega seem to be doing okay."

"Okay?!" I turned my troubled gaze to Father Alcor's as his face turned a deeper shade of red. "You call the current situation okay? Foolish imbecile, do not let your forked tongue speak of things it knows fuck-all about. You see only the Angels, bravely wielding God's weapons as they stand against the forces of Hell. Your perception of them is limited to fighting robots and smiling faces.

"You don't see behind the scenes. You haven't seen them carried out of the machines on stretchers, their bodies drained of force by the very mechs they pilot. You haven't held their hands as they lie in bed, whimpering in pain as you watch helplessly. You haven't heard them cry, mourning every life they failed to save as they vow with all their might that they'll do better, knowing they can't." Father Alcor's eyes briefly met mine. "So don't speak of that which you know nothing about, heathen. The Angels aren't fighting the forces of Hell. They are clawing for survival. Their might won't save Asbestos. Neither will they defeat the hellspawn. The evacuation ships will merely buy us time. The demons will follow as their ruler commands it. Only the strength of the Heavens can save us, and none of you carry that within you!"

"You're full of shit!" The white-shirted man yelled as I turned away. I had come to the mall to avoid thinking about my work. Hearing it debated at length was the last thing I needed to hear.

I hope you had more than one beer in mind. The thought was interrupted by a fleshy bump crying a quick yelp. "Oh, I'm so sorry." I said.

"Sorry, I... wait, Vega?" Only now did the top of a blond curly bob come into view. Two eyes too small for the glasses they framed greeted me when I looked down.

"Huh, Command?"

"Ugh, you know it's Cymmand when I'm off the clock. And don't sound so surprised. We made plans, after all."

"Yeah, but..."

"But?" The hazel eyes narrowed.

"But I can't wait to spend some time with you."

"Good save. Say, help me carry some groceries along the way?"

"Using your friends as a pack mule again?"

"What, you'd expect somebody as delicate and frail as me?" she asked in a mock, quivering tone while widening her eyes. It only heightened her cuteness.

"Don't strain yourself. You know nobody buys the act anymore."

"Tell me about it. The evacuation ships can't come fast enough. I need more victims, err, I mean gullible people, in the world."

"That will only work if the ships have some shops."

"There had better be. This many frustrated people with no outlet? Any shop owner there will have his stock sold out in record time."

"Assuming anybody has any funds left."

She waved the thought away. "Nothing a credit card can't fix."

Thud-thud-thud

The triple vibration cut off my reply. My eyes immediately turned toward the transparent ceiling. It wasn't just me. The soft murmur in the mall had died down to silence as everybody waited with bated breath. Everybody knew what the triple thud meant. It was only a question of what followed. An announcement? Telling everybody to chase toward the nearest vault as Nova and I raced toward our mechs? But Cerviel was damaged... would I even be able to fight? What if another marquis, or worse, shows up? Would Nova be able to handle it by himself?

Thud-thud-thud

I squinted as I tried to spot any trace of the red stars. Which direction was the cannons firing in? North? East? I might be able to use the wreckage of Sopoid to attack the demons. It would work well if Nova could provide oversight support. The Halilut or Aipil dome might do the same if they attacked from the south.

C'mon... A dull pain in my fingers made me relax the grip on Cymmand's grocery bags, if only a fraction. Where are you...

Thud-thud-thud

"Hmm, no message." Cymmand fingered her display before sliding it back into her pocket. "Guess the cannons might be able to handle it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yup. Bootes is currently on duty. He's a bit on the paranoid side, so he would have called if he was worried." She humphed as she picked up her groceries. "Besides, you're off duty, too. Cerviel's in no shape to be fighting."

"I guess that's true."

Thud-thud-thud

"Vega?" Cymmand peeked over her shoulder. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"We're not as helpless as you might think."

"Yeah, you're right." I nodded, slowly taking a step forward. "Nova would probably say the same thing."

"You know it! Forget about the demons. Tonight, you get to rest."