Chapter Sixty - Religious Exemption

Name:Stray Cat Strut Author:
Chapter Sixty - Religious Exemption

Chapter Sixty - Religious Exemption

"While it isn't the opinion of this author that removing governmental religious exemptions was one of the leading contributors to the fall of Old America, one must admit that the changes to the laws that gave religious organisations the ability to not pay taxes did coincide with other massive changes in the cultural and economic state of the Western world.

However, I posit that the Corporate Tax Exemption--the laws allowing sufficiently large corporate entities to avoid taxation outright--was a far greater harbinger of the end of the Old American way."

--Doctor C. Thumbs thesis on the Fall of Old America, 2046

***

"Okay, can everyone hear me?" I asked.

"Mhm!" Grasshopper said.

"You woke me up for this," Gomorrah replied.

"Ah, yes?" came Tanket.

"Affirmative," Hedgehog said.

"Howdy there," Crackshot said.

"We can both hear you here!" Princess said.

And I didn't need to glance over to Gros Baton next to me to know that he could hear me, even if he was still distracted by the last of his poutine. "Okay!" I said. "First, uh, sorry for waking you up or whatever."

"I don't mind," Princess said.

I went on right past that. "But yeah, big news! Phobos isn't out of the race just yet, but it sure as shit ain't looking good." The monitor showed us the moon in all of its fucked up glory. Honestly, calling it a moon now was a lie. Phobos had given up the pretence of being a lost space rock and was just a fuck-big alien hive now with large chunks of moon being held around it like million-ton shields.

Keiretsu drones were swarming around Phobos, and more of them were arriving every twenty minutes or so. Not to say that there weren't any losses. Space around Phobos was also swarming with aliens. Little fliers zipping around, lumps of twitching alien matter, and a disturbing number of what looked like very organic 'spitting' guns that were knocking out drones as they flew by.

Even as I looked, a small chain of itty-bitty explosions ran across one of the bigger tentacles. They seemed tiny on the monitor, but I imagined that each one of those explosions was big enough to take out a house.

We'd given Phobos a brown eye and knocked a few teeth loose, but that fucker was still coming. "Alright, so, time for an update," I said.

"Go on, we're listening," Grasshopper said.

"The Tesla Collider went off right after we hit Phobos with a new type of round, and the moon kinda... exploded. Now it's a big tentacle-y mess. The Keirestsu drones are messing it up as we speak. Since the innards are exposed, that means a lot of damage is being done directly to the hive."

"Is it over then?" Gomorrah asked. "Or nearly over?"

"I don't think so. We've ripped off a full third of the moon, but that still leaves a neat fuckton of moon behind," I said. "And we've got new problems to worry about."

"Oh boy," Princess said.

"You've had longer to think about it," she returned. "And I think we mostly trust your opinion... to a limited degree."

"Well thanks for the vote of confidence," I said before I reached up and pinched the bridge of my nose. I had a stress headache coming on. "Look... we've been handling Phobos on our own. I mean, for our region, at least. The Big Gun's done what it needed to. We can keep on shooting at Phobos until it's right on our doorstep because each shot peels a little more away and helps some. But this attack right on top of us? Yeah, I don't see why that needs to be our problem alone."

"You think we should get outside help?" Crackshot asked. "I'm sure some locals won't mind helping. Emoscythe would certainly help."

"Her, and anyone else that's willing to help at all," I said. "There are a few others around New Montreal, yeah? Hell, there should be a lot of others around here. We can get some from elsewhere in too. The global incursion is calming down, isn't it?"

"We'll have to involve the Family," Gomorrah said warningly.

"Well, tell them that if they don't help they'll have to rebrand themselves into the Orphanage, because there won't be enough survivors to call themselves a Family of anything," I said.

Gomorrah chuckled darkly. "I'll talk to them, then."

"I know just about every samurai that lives around here," Grasshopper said. "I make a point of making contact with as many as I can, in case they need help. I can start sending little 'hellos' to all of them, just in case."

"That'd be nice," I said with a nod. "What else? Maybe... ah fuck, we're going to need to put out a call on social media for anyone willing to help. And to warn people to keep their heads low for the next couple of days."

"Not it," Princess said.

"Same," Craskshot said.

"Pas moi," Gros Baton added.

"I'm not suited for that," Hedgehog said at the same time as Gomorrah said, "No."

"Ah..." Tankette said as she was caught out. "I don't know..."

"That leaves Cat," Gomorrah said.

I blinked. "No it the fuck does not," I snapped.

"Tankette can help you, I'm sure."

"Aren't nuns supposed to be kind and helpful?" I asked.

She was quiet for a few seconds. "My religion demands that I abstain from social media?"

"No it doesn't! You bitch!" I snapped.

But it was too late, wasn't it? That stress headache wasn't going to disappear after all.

***