There Are Many Tokyos In Flower

Chapter 16: Where It's Okay To Be Strange

It took every ounce of self-restraint Martin had, every lesson learned in a life filled with carefully controlled violence, to not laugh in their faces.

"Are you two really here to arrest me?" Martin asked.

"If it comes to that," the security guard said.

And that was entirely too much for Martin. He cracked his neck, then his knuckles, and gave them a winning smile. "You two? Tell me you brought backup."

"Why?" the taller one asked. "It's not like you're carrying anything more than street-level cybernetics. Hell, you're so poorly equipped you have to be followed around by a BIRD."

Martin realized he might be missing something important in this conversation. "BIRD, care to fill in the missing context?"

"The mall cop here thinks she'll be able to shut down your cybernetic implants with ease. Having to use a drone to comply with Neo Tokyo's demand to record your day-to-day affairs is a sign of low-status poverty in a cyberpunk commune," BIRD explained.

"Right. And how does she expect that to help her in an actual fight?"

"She does have a metal arm," BIRD noted.

"Titanium bones with starship-hull grade steel plating," the guard added.

"But does she have a metal shoulder?" Martin asked.

"Why is that important?" both BIRD and the security guard asked.

"Let me give you a visual aid. I won't even lift a finger. You're going to take a swing at me, and I'll tell you what happened after you hit the floor," Martin said, and he patted his left cheek rather... cheekily.

As if the narrative pun set her off, the security guard took a step forward and swung her fist at Martin's head. There was enough force behind it that the blow had landed, it might have dented his skull if he left his head where hit was.

Which, of course, he didn't. Her fist passed just in front of his face, close enough Martin could have read the serial number on her artificial hand. And passing through empty air, the fist swung past and pulled her off her feet. She spun and fell, rolling away as she hit the street.

"Centrifugal force," Martin said. "It's the same force keeping our feet on the ground. The trouble for you, is putting a bunch of armour plating at the end of your arm makes it awfully heavy. Not so bad if you're just doing a jab, but get angry and try for a haymaker, and you risk putting yourself off-balance. You're going to have to practice putting your foot out further to compensate for it."

Martin paused, about to begin a more detailed explanation, when he saw the security guard lying on the ground was crying. It wasn't pain, at least not physical pain. People who break, sprain, or scrape something grab the injured part, a reflex to protect a wound from further damage. The security guard, instead, had both hands now pressed against the street, and was shifting herself into a sitting position, with her head hung low and her hair now covering much of her face.

"Martin? What the hell?" Rin asked from the cafe door. She cut across the sidewalk until she stopped next to the security guard, and crouched down next to her.

"What is it?"

"Are you making fun of her disability?" Rin asked.

"Don't see a lot of humour in amputation," Martin remarked. He frowned, and looked over at Rin, just beginning to realize. "Is this common here?"

"A lot of people with disabilities come here," Rin said, as she helped the woman sit up. "Most of the world, even in this day and age, they aren't all that accommodating towards things they don't know much about. It's why Mars is now a refuge for cultural misfits, like the steampunk and dieselpunk communes down there, or the merfolk on the water moon. A place like this, it's where people like me, or her, can actually be normal."