Chapter Forty-Three - And I Have Killed It

Chapter Forty-Three - And I Have Killed It

Chapter Forty-Three - And I Have Killed It

Your art is dead, and I have killed it.

-GPT9, 2027

***

Kinda weird, Manic said as she looked off to the side.

I followed her gaze. She was looking at the space where there had been a building just a few minutes before. Whats weird?

Ive spent most of my life in this city, you know? And just from one day to the next, the whole place has changed. I dont just mean the obvious, like... that building there. Its not that old. I remember some of these places being built. But now theyre all fucked. Its weird.

I guess so, I said. I havent spent enough time here to really get used to the place.

Yeah, all you have is a snapshot. What Burlington's right now, at this moment. But a place is more than just one moment in its history. Its... it is its history, I guess. She reached under her visor and pushed a lock of blue hair away from her eyes. Nevermind.

Nah, its fine, I said. I can get philosophical too sometimes... After a good orgasm, usually.

I get that too, she said. Its music for me. The right beat, the right lyrics, at just the right moment in time. It can be something special, but if the times off, then its just more noise.

I nodded along, even if I didnt quite get it, not as deeply as she seemed to. Then again, I dont think anyone had ever accused me of having much depth.

Enough philosophising, I said with a gesture to the building across the street. No new aliens had snuck out of it in a while, but they had been coming out of there recently. Want to go blow that one up?

On my own?

Nah, Ill come with you. Unless you really wanna go solo? I can hand you the bombs.

She shook her head. Id rather not. I like working on my own when its the choice between being a soloist or having to carry the show, but when youve got a good thing going, theres no point in stopping it.

Well, that made me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Sure, I said.

There hadnt been any more aliens to show up in a couple of minutes. Either the antithesis were being kind enough not to attack while we took a breather, or wed killed all of them in the area, or, as a special third option which I disliked the most, they were doing something fucky and were waiting to spring a trap on us.

Then as I pushed deeper into the first floor, past a room with a few foosball tables and whatever other corpo-crap that looked good in a pamphlet, I noticed a sign on one of the walls up ahead.

This place has a swimming pool? I asked.

The power has been cut and the backup systems for the building dont include any camera access. Though I can safely say that some of the doors locked automatically and Ill be able to tell you if any of them open. I cant see into the basement. But I imagine that if the antithesis are anywhere, then theyre below.

I nodded along. Made sense. Plus if the sign I crossed was to be believed, there was a bar and a sauna down there. Screw being aliens, thats where Id be if I was them.

Hey, Manic said, and I paused. Im picking up something above. She gestured to her ears, then pointed up.

My own cybernetic ears twitched, and I listened. There was a lot of noise for what was an otherwise empty building. Lots of ticks and the groans youd expect from a normal building. Then I picked up on what she meant. A clattering noise that took me a second to place. Is that someone typing? I asked.

On an old-school keyboard, yeah, she said.

I hesitated, then decided to do the smart thing. We're going to check on that, I said. Then go down. I think we can mine this corridor, maybe get a drone out here to keep it safe?

Ive got something like that, she said. Got any bombs that wont cave the floor in this time?

Yeah, I might have something like that, I said. Resonators were my go-to, but I had nasty little nanomachine grenades and a few others that wouldnt damage the building too much.

Manic ordered something up, and it came in a box that, when she opened it, revealed a sort of six-legged dog drone thing, without a head, instead it had a bunch of heavy-duty speakers pointing in every direction.

She aimed it down the corridor, then had it sit at an intersection.

If it was anything like her bass cannon, then at least wed know when it fired, no matter where in the damned city we were.

Alright, lets go see what kind of dumbass is still in this shithole, I said as I slapped a resonator next to the stairs, then took them up two at a time.

The typing sound stopped, but not before I pinpointed its location on the third floor up. Every door I passed was shut and locked, but it was clear from the few that were left open that people had evacuated a while ago.

Except, apparently, for this one dumbass.

I found their room because of the light pouring out from under the crack of the door. The tapping resumed just as I stopped in front, and I could barely believe it. What kind of idiot stayed at home when the world was ending?

***