In 2034, Jia Tran was working as a mid-level Trimet manager and proposed a new take on the situation. The problem with mass transit, she posited, was the simple fact that it took longer to get from where you were to where you needed to be. This was due to the simple fact that mass transit could not be everywhere. And the more the transit tried to be everywhere, the longer it would take to get there, due to having to stop along the way so many times.
Speed lines, like express trains, only helped some, because you still had to get to the speed line and then from the speed line to your destination. You still had to walk to the bus station, take a mass line to the speed depot, then reverse that to get to where you needed to go.
Jai’s solution was the express bus. Half rideshare and half mass transport, the express buses were twenty- to thirty-person hover buses dedicated to longer rides. An AI collects the start and end points to form spontaneous bus lines with only the stops needed for the riders. Transits were limited to ones that could not be completed on a standard line under a threshold, generally an hour.
Despite being a paid service, this quickly caught on with the middle class since it was nearly as quick as driving or getting a single-use rideshare but cost less, and they could feel better about the environment at the same time.
--High school report
***
“How long has he been doing that?” Ginny asked.
“Since our food came,” Tara said. “It’s creepy.”
I turned to him directly and waved in a cheesy “Hi Mom” wave. He had the good grace to grimace but did not stop recording us. I cocked an eye at him, then waved my hand near my neck in a director's cut motion, at which point he nodded, stopped recording, and cleared his table.
“I don’t mind the recording so much; I’m not doing anything wrong, so they can watch all they want. It’s the other reactions. I don’t know what to do when someone goes all Samgush over me. They’re looking at me as if I’m all special, but I still put my shoes on left one first, just like they do.”
“I do the right one first,” Tara said.
“Me too. See? You really are a freak. But the real question is, do you tie, then switch shoes, or are you one of those heathens that do the double switch?” Ginny grinned at me. Tara nodded her head seriously in agreement.
“If we’re going to descend into absurdity, I’m going to call Jonnie.”
“You do you, heathen.” She took a sip of her soda.
I rolled my eyes, then selected Jonnie’s contact in my app. It picked up immediately and filled my ears with the sounds of a woman’s moans, over which Jonnie’s voice spoke. “This is Jonnie, and I’m definitely not being good right now.” The moans increased in tone and speed. “In fact, I’m being downright naughty. I’d invite you to join, but you aren’t on the list. If your problem can’t wait, then you can explain to Didir why she should contact me.”
The line clicked, and another voice took over. “Dammit, Jonnie, if you dump another salesman on me, I’m going to flame you so hard even you will feel it.”
“Uh, hello? This is Mar…Uh, Xenovir, I’m trying to reach Jonnie Be Good.”
“And for some infernal reason, he’s using me as his answering service.” She had a gravelly voice, which emphasized her frustration. “You’re that Samurai he named the other day? I saw the interview, and you seemed like a nice young man. What in the world would possess you to call Jonnie?”
“I don’t know how I got connected to you, but he’s the only Samurai I know, and I had some questions about how we work.”
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She scoffed before answering. “He’s set himself to privacy mode, and for some reason, whenever he does that, all his calls forward to me. Which is probably a good thing. If it’s help you are looking for, Jonnie is the last place to get it. At best he’ll either pass you off to someone at random. If he’s bored, he might even send you in the wrong direction.
“I’m Didir. What kinds of questions do you have? If I don’t know the answer, I can probably put you in touch with the right ones to answer it.”
I dimly recalled Jonnie mentioning her as the local coordinator for Samurai. She clearly had a biased opinion of Jonnie, but I’d only known him for a few minutes. If she coordinated their efforts, she must be a Samurai herself, and her advice would be as good as any, I supposed.
“I’m doing some planning and realized that I’m going to need either a mountain of credits or a slightly smaller stack of points, or maybe both. I know that I can sell stuff I buy, gear and blueprints, and such. But where do I find contacts for who to sell it to?”
Something I said must have seemed funny, because Didir choked on a half-laugh. “Seems like every new Samurai leaps into some get-rich-quick scheme sooner or later, but you’re ahead of the curve. You only became a Samurai the other day, right?”
“Just yesterday. This morning I was nearly invaded by corporate reps, and I need to upgrade my place to keep them out. That means credits or points in quantity.”
She hummed a second, “Let me guess, you spent all the points you made yesterday on some BFG or something, and now you need points. If you take advice, mine is this: incremental changes will do you better in the long run.”
“Actually, it was only one nice gun, but several other upgrades. I still have some points and a couple catalogs of stuff that the mega-corporates would love to own, but I don’t know how to find buyers. Especially ones at the universities. I figure I can leverage what I have for the credits I’ll need to secure my place.”
Didir hummed in my ear briefly. “You sound like your head’s on straight. Just be careful you don’t burn out. I can’t help with finding buyers. The ones to talk to about that are the Change League. They run an online service called The Exchange that matches up Samurai and companies who want to buy their gear or blueprints, based on a bidding method. They’re usually better organized than this. Haven’t they been in touch with you already?”
I recalled the short talk with Trinidom. “They dropped off a data packet, but I haven’t had time to go over it yet.”
“For Antithesis hunting, I’m your best contact. Between my own overwatch and the report hotline, I’m the first to hear of any outbreaks and will know who’s available to respond. We don’t have any hot spots right now, though. The military might have something in the works, but they haven’t asked for help yet. I can’t send people until they do. What is your transportation looking like? I heard you had an issue with your car.”
I grimaced. “I’m limited to mass transit for a while or rideshares. Why does that matter?”
“Mostly in how fast you can respond and how far away. Portland’s responsible for about 70 thousand square kilometers, and I have to cover that with who we have in the city and the suburbs. I need to balance response times to threat levels.”
“I’ve ordered a new car, but that will take a week or two to get ready.”
“That will help. In the meantime, I’ll need to know what type of work fits you. We can do an interview some time, but for now I’ll send you a questionnaire and let you go talk to the Change League while I go to bed.”
We said our goodbyes and ended the call. Since Ginny and Tara were talking about something related to school, I opened the packet Trinidom had given me. The Change League claimed to be a network of Samurai focused on enabling Samurai to “achieve their goals.” That sounded strangely vague, but the information did talk about The Exchange and also had some contact information, both for the group as a whole and for Trinidom specifically.
“Well, I need to get home and go to bed. I have class tomorrow.” Ginny distracted me before I could start another call. I glanced at the clock and realized that it was nearly midnight already. We cleared up and signed up for an express bus. While we waited, I decided that a text to Trinidom might be more polite due to the hour.
Me: Not sure if you are still up or not; it's not time-critical. I need a contact for someone at Cascadia U. Does the Change League have a rolodex for people like that?
After a few minutes without a response, I sent a follow-up.
Me: Probably too late for you. I’m open for you to call me in the morning if that’s more convenient.
***
Once back at my apartment, Tara stood in the living room, eyeing the door suspiciously with her arms crossed. I sighed, wishing I could just go to bed. However, I’d promised, and Tara would not be able to rest until we’d done something.
We spent a short time coming up with some small improvements to the apartment’s security, including a couple of discrete turrets inside and out, a dedicated drone outside for monitoring the door, and a new lock. Five hundred points and two catalogs later, and she was finally able to relax.
I also felt a weight lift when we installed the last change and closed the door. I hadn’t realized how much the corporate invasion had affected me. The defensive measures wouldn’t keep out a skilled hit squad or even a determined group of M-4s, but they should provide warning and keep out the average corporate drone or crazy.
Tara quickly settled onto the couch and soon was breathing deeply in sleep. I spent another hour progressing with my cyber warfare lessons before turning in.

