A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: 72

A Perfectly Logical Guide to a Superhuman Apocalypse: 72

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Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Arksoul

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With the power of loaning a few ‘books’ from my personal collection to Seran for some cash, I was able to enjoy a pastry shop properly.

Café au lait with a croissant was something that I enjoyed as a snack from time to time before the world went to shit. While I could simulate it back home, since I had plenty of really good instant coffee and tons of high-grade croissant dough and puff pastry, factory-made croissant dough and puff pastry only went so far. It was too highly processed, the dough needed more protein to withstand industrial-grade kneading, and the result was something that was close to airy, but wasn’t quite there.

A real croissant is like biting in crunchy air with a golden, savory crust into fluffy, flaky insides that melted into the mouth with just one or two chews. Breathing in while chewing it should fill the mouth with the scent of a bakery and high-quality butter that was so pure and bright that it was nearly sweet.

Add that with a good, fresh coffee with steamed whole milk and a little sugar?

The best snack/treat ever.

Well, it’s a snack for me.

Most people think around five hundred calories is a meal.

“I knew that I’d find you here. Almost had this place built just for ya, in fact.” Seran took the seat opposite of mine in the café. The hustle and bustle of the city didn’t stop. The café’s front doors had two burly dudes in suits, but they let people in after a glance. Their partners were dogs in sunglasses and ballistic vests that sniffed for weapons and the like. “How are you liking Vancouver? Enough for you to consider staying around and helping us out, instead of sticking to California?”

“Consider? Absolutely. Do? Nah.” Seran rolled her eyes and scoffed. Oi, a cute girl would pout and make puppy eyes at that. That character you’re trying to emulate would go for the seduction straight away with absolute confidence with a knife ready at her back if her target decided to be reeled in. If they weren’t reeled in, she’d kill them harder. How serious are you about emulating that character you’re making, Seran?   “I’m fine with setting up an outpost… but I’ve got a good deal going and to be frank… with what’s out there, I want to be behind Maelstrom.”

“That bad?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s worse. We’ve got constant small-scale warfare all over the world, famines on the horizon, cartels pushing designer drugs, and just a few weeks ago I helped thwart a would-be Emperor becoming a literal god. One with a lot of child soldiers produced ‘naturally.’”

“…Fuck.” Seran grunted and shook her head. She leaned on the table with one elbow and looked my way with a glare. I could tell that she was trying to see if I was bullshitting. She narrowed her eyes and scrunched up her nose the same way. Still my friend. “You still have your rule against transporting WMDs?”

“Yep. Conventional arms and armor. Nothing chemical, biological, nuclear, and all that jazz.” Seran did that thing that she did whenever she was nervous. Look from side to side, hunch her back, and make herself look small. It looked almost strange with the new body. It was like a model out of someone’s wildest fantasies suddenly turning into a shy introvert that never sees the sun. “Let me guess… making designer organisms means you’ve got designer cells and viruses.”

“It’s our deterrent, but a lot of people want it to be turned into an offensive weapon. They want to use it because they don’t want to waste lives… but that’ll just let the genie out of the bottle.” Seran signed and rested her head on her arm against the table, the other arm went over her head. She was boxing her face between her forearms and honestly looked like she was trying to shrink out of the universe. I did my usual shtick and plucked the upper arm off the top of her head and pushed her back to sit properly. She did with a small frown and crossed her arms. Have some mercy on those blouse buttons. They’re fighting for their lives. Also, I’m in the line of fire. I’ll teleport those buttons straight towards your temple, if they fly at me. “They’re already saying that Maelstrom is letting loose and laying down the law and that we should do the same, since that’ll prevent the most deaths.”

I did my best to consider the situation before providing my thoughts on the matter.

“That’s downright insane. There’s a difference between an invincible girl scout and designer viruses delivered right down the enemy’s throat as a preemptive strike.” Maelstrom did was right even when it hurt the entire world. As far as I was concerned, she had the right to use her power. Hell, she was probably one of the few people on this planet that deserved it. “The only way that’s allowed is if you’re protecting your own territory. We already saw what happened when that broke down. Just look out the windows… somewhere not here, I guess.”

Seran snorted and tried to snatch my croissant, but I valiantly fended her off.

Things were quiet for a second.

But the conversation as anything but good.

“We’re inoculating ourselves and vaccinating against everything we plan to throw out there. Everyone’s convinced that it’s only a matter of time before we’re attacked, and they’re honestly right… and my party and my people will lose power the moment that happens.” That’s the catch, then. Seran was never one for fighting. Running away and sheltering in place was her preferred method of doing things, just like me. Still, though, Seran had a penchant for caring for other people. Get past the weird traits and you get a genuinely good person who’d help others as a matter of fact. Marching off to war? Preemptive strikes? Seran would never, yet that was the only way she’d retain power and keep things sane. If the war came to Vancouver, they’d deploy the weapons anyway, and it’ll succeed… and those who died before that happened would be because of her. “The only way I can hope to avoid that is by bringing in the new aristocrats, but they’re already hated by most people here. All I’ll be doing is delaying things for a few years, until the disease vectors are unleashed anyway.”

After a few moments of careful consideration, I provided my best answer to Seran.

“Have you considered just washing your hands of things and just retiring? Great place in California. I’ll help you move whatever you’ve got.”

Seran paused, looked at me, and thought about it for a while, before slapping herself in the face.

“Fuck… I got too fucking attached to this place. I can’t even think of saying yes.”

“Damn, that’s really rough, buddy. Looks like that’s out of the picture, then.” I scratched that possibility off, while Seran basked in the gloom and doom of finding herself incapable of just running away. Horrible situation, but since I’m a great friend, I decided to help out. “How about something else, then? Strong strike teams, teleported by yours truly, to fight and win? Maybe, bring in the Aristocracy for the fun of it. Let’s all bond over killing Nazis.”

Seran… blinked at my statement.

“That could work.” She put a finger on her chin and looked at the table. Her free hand tracing something out that didn’t bother trying to figure out. Usually, it’s just scribbles. I preferred to just stare into the distance when deep in thought, but Seran had to do something. “You’re right. We’re trying to build alliances when we should start with bridges and smaller inroads. We need to normalize relations first and a common enemy would be the best choice.”

“Yep. You’re too used to doing things fast, probably because you’re still living in modern times. Outside of this city, it’s back to warlords and city-states, and diplomacy’s gone back to that speed, too.” Seran nodded at my words, before standing up suddenly. She looked at me, and I grunted while finishing off my coffee and my croissant. I can just come back tomorrow to get what I need. “Where are we off to?”

“House Edel of the aristocrats. Our only trading partner and main diplomatic channel.” Seran walked over to my side and pulled out an honest-to-god smartphone out of her suit pocket and gave me a marker on an electronic map. I worked so hard to get GPS from Parvati and she just has it in her back pocket. “And, you’re not completely correct, Egress. Speed is a massive factor. We can’t waste time, especially when we have to contend with foes from within and without.”

“Heard.” I agreed and moved us both over to the spot on the map that she showed me.

There was a scream of surprise from the guards at the gate at our appearance, but only from one of the guards.

The other one in front of the iron-wrought gate raised a hand our way while the other went to a pistol at his hip.

“Halt, declare yourselves! This is the property of House Edel!” No sooner did the guard say those practiced lines did he recognize Seran. “Mayor Seran!? What are you doing with this unknown and unsanctioned superhuman!?”

Sanctioned?

Must be their system of registering and using people with powers.

“I have a proposal for Lady Edel, and she bid me to come as soon as I am able to provide her with an answer. I have it now.” Seran put a hand on my shoulder and looked at me. “This is my friend, Egress, and I’ll vouch for him. Hold me accountable for whatever he does. I trust him.”

Drat, I wanted to swindle some people with some steaks and spices, but Seran just hooked me onto a diplomatic team.

“Just consider me as a transporter. I’ll stay under watch and not use my power on the premises, unless in an emergency.” The guards eyed me up as a threat, but nodded at Seran. “Go on ahead, I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks.” Seran gave a nod and I followed just over her shoulder looking as intimidating as I could, while two guards flanked us into the mansion.

Wonder if they’ve got a chandelier in the foyer?

Those always look pretty cool.

…

It was a 7/10 mansion, but it seemed to focus on being practical for the cold climate, so I would personally give it an 8/10. No chandelier at the entrance, the servants are all in suits, and there’s no oil paintings anywhere. Plenty of taxidermized animals, and some cool vases and wooden furniture that looked pretty good, but overall no red lush rug on marble floor. Also, there were no signs of a private zoo on the premises, or a helicopter pad, or even a vintage car collection. Heck, they barely had a couple of actual soldiers on the premises and they weren’t even in power armor.

Guess even a bunch of self-styled supremacists who tout their lineage as better than the rest of the population can have it tough.

Damn, I probably can’t have these guys pay out the nose for my work.

Thankfully, though, they actually had a room for meeting visitors that was suitably awe-inspiring. Broken plasma weapon in a glass case, destroyed power armor in a stand, and a few shreds and pieces of several costumes. All in all, House Edel knew how to intimidate and show off their martial prowess… and they also served fresh tea and maple-flavored butter cookies.

If they can serve both of that post-apocalypse, they deserve the bump to 8/10.

We entered through a side door from the foyer, while another set of double-doors for the rest of the house opened for the host to enter.

I had to raise my eyebrow at the pure-white haired young lady that entered completely in a blood red suit.

Seran rose to greet her, while I was already standing behind the sofa over her shoulder, so I didn’t have anything to do.

“Seran, a pleasure to see you again. I see that you’ve found your old friend. Or, perhaps, did he find you?” There was just a touch of arrogance in the tone. The lilt was on the lighter side, but still deep and authoritative. I’ve worked with female dictators before. Some went the femme fatale route and played into beauty and charm. Others were like this lady and looked to intimidate and be cool. Whoever paid more, I liked more. “Lady Samantha Edel. Charmed to meet you, Egress.”

Handshake and not an offer to kiss the back of her hand.

Firm handshake, but not desperate. Practiced and steady.

Leaning on the cool side, but also hard-working and confident in her own home.

Definitely someone that I’m willing to work with from my experience in this first meeting.

“Sorry for the trouble of coming here so quickly, but you said to give you an answer… and I’ve got it now.” Seran spoke while shaking the lady’s hand. She was a bit fast and furious with her speech, but she laid it out without seeming completely desperate. “We have our issues and our concerns with one another, but we also have a common foe. I propose teams of our people working together and striking out at them before they can become a threat that would see us take advantage of one another.”

“So, your answer is to lay the foundation of working together and to gamble with both our futures on good relations blossoming forth. Hm. I must admit, it’s a fine idea… and quite possible with the inclusion of your fearsome friend here.” Lady Edel took a seat and leaned forward on her knees. Seran mimicked her. Though she spoke of me, she kept her eyes on Seran. Hm. I had a feeling that this lady was older than she looked… and a lot more lethal than her casualness suggested. I took note that a lot of the pieces and parts that were turned into trophies looked really, cleanly cut. “And, what will you ask of us for this opportunity, mercenary? We must both pay you, to be assured even treatment, correct?”

Normally, I’d take that question as a sign to step in and start haggling… but I was here for a friend.

This is Seran’s ballgame.

Or, hockey match.

Whatever.

“Ask Seran. She’s the lead here. I’m just here to make what she wants happen.”

That earned me a raised eyebrow from the possibly old lady, while Seran looked at me with shining aglitter.

Don’t worry, buddy.

I’m going to mooch off you like you wouldn’t believe.